Rain to Bow
“It was pouring all the way here, just pouring. Those kids were soaked.”
Rain, rain, rain. Days of rain, weeks of rain, dreariness, wet decks, sidewalks and pavement shiny wet from growling skies.
She thought she’d never get here, the trucks throwing water in vicious intent, trying to drown her in gray.
Then rain gives way to sunset reclaiming earth under broken clouds, lost ghost ships slowly sailing through tree tops tipped with gold, mists rising randomly– ancient native spirits signaling silently hill to hill.
A rainbow, wide, bright, the purple dominating in neon! It’s gone, where did it go? Over there! See it doubled, a reflection of itself over our back yard, arching side to side and back again, a promise, protective, just for us.
Do you have your umbrella? Watch your step, drive carefully, see you tomorrow, thanks for coming.
The air is heavy, too warm and damp, resisting surrender to sun day after day after day. Finally, late today, sun after canceled games and ruined cookouts, yellow light instead of gray, a hope of cool fall nights crouching around the next corner or the next or the next or the next.
I work overtime against my will, the load increases, relentless and demanding. I’m in artificial air, aware of thunder, not of sun.
Finally, color. At last, open windows, fresh air. Soon I’ll sleep to crickets’ song, not AC’s hum. Freshness, breathe on me in my soul.
Going nuts at work
The workload is crazy, the phones are nuts. That’s why I’ve been AWOL on the blog for a couple of weeks. I’m putting in consistent overtime for a few weeks. It’s amazing how much more it wears now than it did 15 years ago. Amazing.
I’m getting home anywhere between 8 and 9 every evening, leaving me time enough to check out the trivia on Facebook, throw out a few comments on posts 7 to 8 hours cold and go to bed.
We were notified this week that any vacation time left needs to be scheduled or lose it. Holidays are coming up and I could be turned down if I don’t make my reservation. So in October I reserved a four day weekend over the 24th-25th, am taking a Monday off early in November, scheduled 5 hours for a dentist appointment and have 23 hours remaining for flu or early clock-outs, the latter of which is unlikely since I’m on phones to 6:30 whether they ring or not or even if there’s no paperwork.
The only thing I plan on moving when I take those days off is the thumb on the remote. I am brickin’ it. I really need to start some crochet projects and actually may do that but am leaving the schedule open for the option of nothing, big fat nothing.
I am so stressed.
So. That’s what I’m up to. Right now, Honey is catching Zs. He has to get to work by 6:30, that’s A.M., tomorrow for his company’s annual big event. I need to crash so I can get up and clean bathrooms and fix lunch for the new small group luncheon at 11.
Ready, crash. See y’all later.
Did I hear that correctly?
After being interviewed by the school administration, the prospective teacher said: ( —-borrowed from one of “those” email forwards )
|
I love a good story….
Whenever I hear a good one, a laugh out-louder, I think of my dad and how he never tired of hearing and telling a good ol’ knee slapper. The rest of us had our own opinions of his reruns and several people would see him coming and scoot out of the way. Others would humor him and listen to what they knew was coming and laugh anyway for the lost-count time.
Dad’s gone almost 18 years now, but I can imagine a two minute out-louder, his head back, his big hand slapping a knee over a joke making its way around the email circuit. I think I’ve seen it before and if Dad could adopt it I would hear it again and again.
A thank you to Jim Knowles for keeping it in circulation.
UNDERWEAR IS IMPORTANT!!
If you don’ t laugh out loud at this one, call the morgue and reserve a table, because you are dead….
Always wear clean underwear in public, especially when working under your vehicle…
From the Northwest Florida Daily News comes this story of a Crestview couple who drove their car to Wal-Mart, only to have their car break down in the parking lot. The man told his wife to carry on with the shopping while he fixed the car in the lot.
The wife returned later to see a small group of people near the car. On closer inspection, she saw a pair of male legs protruding from under the chassis. Although the man was in shorts, his lack of underpants turned private parts into public ones. Unable to stand the embarrassment, she dutifully stepped forward, quickly put her hand UP his shorts, and tucked everything back into place. She took a deep breath and stood up boldly to face the crowd.
She looked across the hood and found herself staring at her husband, who had been standing idly by.
The mechanic, however, had to have three stitches in his head..
The Blue Bowl
Mom didn’t have much worldly wealth. One of the few things she had that she treasured was a china bowl. I have no idea where she got it, if it was something her mother or another relative had, or if she acquired it at yard sale for a nickel. It was a heavy bowl, blue on the outside, white on the inside, straight up and down sides, no rim, hard for little girl hands to handle with confidence. Maybe there were some flowers somewhere on it but I’m too lazy right now to call one of the sisters and ask. They don’t call me either. Another post.
One of the things we did not have growing up was a dishwasher. I take that back. We had three — us. The bowl must have been just the right size for mixing or serving, therefore she used it frequently and she was proud of it. So much so that we just knew we were unforgiven and out of the will if we so much as cracked it. When it was time to wash The Blue Bowl, life became slo-mo, sound faded into a background hum, tension increased when one of us had to handle it out of the rinse water. You drop it, you die on the spot, the parents get off without questions, no arrests, no time served. Life was bad enough when anything was spilled or something broken — “we just can’t keep anything!!” or “another mess to clean up!!”– it was a feeling in the pit of the stomach….
On other occasions in my life, I’ve felt that same lurch deep in the gut. We all know the feeling when thoughtless words add another brick to a wall, when an email can’t be pulled back, when the person you’re talking about is standing behind you, when “sorry” can’t erase the disappointment, when Humpty Dumpty is swept into the dustpan.
Once that bowl or another treasure is smashed, it’s never the same. If it can be glued, the cracks forever tell the story of what you did. When it’s people that are damaged, Holy Spirit can make it like new. When my little girl broke a chunk out of an oval bowl that was part of my wedding china set, the look on her face broke my heart. “It’s just a thing, Honey. Don’t worry, I think we can glue it.” And we did. You should have seen the look on Eric Barrows’ face when years later he picked it up by the glued piece and it snapped off. Where’s the camera when you need it?
Mom was not a screech or an unforgiving shrew. She had other sorrows that caused her to attach too much to a few things. Over The Blue Bowl, there would have been disappointment but nothing permanent. Okay, years later she might have mentioned it out of the blue, pardon the word play. But she always knew people trumped things. Again, I have no idea why she valued it to the point that she did. However, a big however —
When we moved them from the house to a nursing home and disbursed their belongings, keeping some things, sending some off to auction, none of us girls wanted The Blue Bowl. You would think there would be some sentiment over it. For me, I didn’t want the phone call in 40 years asking me if I still had it.
I have no clue what happened to it but I pity the person who ever breaks it.
It’s a pick-your-project weekend
I’m taking a break from preparing the church body, trumpeting the end of the age. Both are valid in the setting of prophetic events surrounding us, but this is a 3 day weekend and since life is proceeding as it has been, and the sun is shining as it is supposed to, and I’m frazzled from work, I’m temporarily swimming to shallower waters close enough to see the shoreline. Not that I’ve given up on my passions, Perry Stone has some hot new material out I want to order and there’s something I want to order from Sid Roth as soon as I can. In the meantime, tomorrow I may (or may not–I’m moody) report on the latest sermon. BTW, I think I’ll refer to Preach as RevRan instead of the former. Call it a whim, but I think it sounds a tad more respectful.
As for today, I look around my house at the projects begging for attention and am teetering on being overwhelmed. It’s not possible to get more than two of them under control in one day. The quick solution for the kitchen is dragging in the hose. Not a practical option. The loosely defined office in the far corner of the third bedroom can only be classified as tortured neglect, and my closet taunts me with “we dare you to come in here unarmed.” Add to that Honey took the speakers to the shop to update, is waiting for a part, and if Fed-Ex isn’t delivering the part today, there will be no DVD entertainment all weekend. (11:55 – yay! part delivered!)
Until the speakers are restored, I can’t run Rocky & Bullwinkle (lower lip sticking out in a pout mode) or anything else for that matter on the DVD player nor on my computer because it says I need a stupid plug-in which I may have to cave on. I’ve never — not once — had good luck downloading anything without an error message, pulling hair, and getting help. But I’ll (deep breath) try one more time.
Later…
The kitchen and refrigerator are properly exorcised of demon possession, a load of whites is waiting in the dryer, I’ve run the dishwasher twice plus hand washed enough extra dishes to turn my nails transparent, and I have reloaded the books that were stacked on the dining room table all week and temporarily stored all 140 DVDs and an embarrassingly high number of VHS tapes we haven’t replaced with DVDs yet. A few years ago we got a new higher quality $50 VCR to replace the one we bought for $500 in 1986. All that’s left on the dining room table is the 9″ TV from the second bedroom that needs a converter box and antenna. It’s not that important to clear the table completely since we don’t eat in the dining room unless we have guests. But it’s nice to see the top once in a while.
The closet still lays in wait plotting my doom, the so called office remains pitifully unusable, and Honey’s on the way home from the wood shop. Tomorrow we nap after church, Monday we grill. Life is laid back at the Brock house.
Happy long weekend.
Judge not? Or not?
Do we gloss over wrongdoing and refuse to see it in order to not be criticized for judging?
1. A friend in the church is involved in a sexual relationship with a non-spouse. Do you point out the behavior? Yes! Good grief! Do you love this person? Do you care if he or she is killed on the highway and plunged into hell? If so, do you pat yourself on the back because you didn’t judge?? Do you really in your heart of hearts believe in eternal security, that we can live like hell and go to heaven because we were baptized at the age of 10? Paul talks to the body of believers. He tells us to judge sin, pray for, and speak to the wrongdoing and he tells us how. If the sin continues, we are to refuse fellowship with that person. That’s Biblical. That’s harsh in today’s PC society and unfortunately, PC church, PC schools, PC workplace. I hate PC.
Please note that we are also instructed in forgiveness and reconciliation. But there is a definite structure. The sin must be identified and dealt with much like a deadly contagious virus.
2. Someone has an obnoxious behavioral trait or nine, something listed on the caution signs in the previous post. See Matthew 7:1-5. If God has helped you overcome that or something similar and equally damaging, you recognize the same condition in someone else, and you can speak more gently with the advantage of experience, helping another conquer the same thing, supporting in prayer. It’s okay. Just one warning, if your sign is Harsh or Sharp Tongue, you may want to pray about it long and hard before you open your mouth.
You’ve discerned a need. You can identify and treat the need without being judgmental. You can take it to the bank that you’re going to get criticized, probably from the brethren, certainly from the unsaved. Knowing this opens a door of opportunity to study the subject of judgment, alone or in a group, when it’s discernment, when it’s gossip and criticism and when it’s a necessary tool in the ministry of the Body of Christ for purification and growth. Steel on steel polishing off the warts and turning the flab into muscle.
Are we in an exiting time or what?
