Confessions of a (Non)Military Wife

So Casey is shipping out. In less than a week. To a place far, far, away. I'm so very thankful for the opportunity I feel the Lord has provided us to take care of some financial burdens we have both had for quite some time. By the time he gets home next year, if everything goes as planned, we're looking for the following to have happened:
(a) All of our revolving (aka credit card, student loans, car note, etc.) debt will be completely paid off.
(b) We'll both be skinnier...him from the profuse sweating, I'm sure, and me because of my intent to rejoin a gym somewhere.
(c) We'll both be very savvy in the area of overseas communication via webcam and skype.
(d) We'll have some money in our savings account (to this point, we have said, 'savings? what savings?'...) :)
(e) We'll be closer to one another.
(f) We'll value the time we have together much more than we do even now as newlyweds.
(g) We'll be spiritually stronger because of all the Lord will have brought us through.

The Bible teaches that "In his heart man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps." Every single thing on this list may not happen exactly like we have planned it out, but I'm so thankful for the saying (and the truth behind it), "Where the Lord guides, He provides." I believe He has guided us to this choice and I am excited (though sad at the thought of being thrown back into singlehood for the next little bit) about the changes in our future that this job will make possible. I'm trying to look at a one year sacrifice as a huge investment in the quality of life we'll have in the future.

So...enough said for now. I'm going to remain positive and upbeat...if it kills me. I've cried enough for a lifetime in the last 48 hours alone, and I am determined to be positive, if for no other reason than to help my husband stay strong. I promised to honor him, obey him, and submit to him on the day I said 'I do' and I intend to do just that. I'm so thankful for his guidance and his willingness to sacrifice to provide for our family. I love this man so much!!! :)

Deep Thoughts....not by Jack Handy


I was out of town this weekend and had the chance to visit the church where I grew up—boy, did the Lord know just what I needed…in Sunday school the pastor taught out of the book of Luke; most of you are probably familiar with the story of Mary and Martha. I know I’ve heard it preached probably a hundred times, but Sunday morning something hit just right…

How often do we end up like Martha, overwhelmed with everything on our plates? Usually we hear this passage taught in the context of Christian service (working in the nursery, singing in the choir, teaching a Sunday School class, you name it)—but think about life in general. Grades to be entered. A spouse to love. Kids to feed. Laundry to fold. The car to wash. Bills to pay. The grass to cut. Phone calls to make. Just thinking about everything that has to be done in the time between my morning alarm and my evening shower sometimes is just too much to handle. I feel like Martha when Jesus described her as “careful and troubled about many things.” As I look back over my day and wonder just how I survived it, it hits me. Where did the Lord fit into my day? Did he? I didn’t pray when I got up. I didn’t set the alarm to make time to read scripture before I got ready for work. I sure don’t feel like it by the time I finally make it to my bedroom in the evening. I’m on extended day, so forget about any extra time between classes or during a light planning period. I focus so much on my work that I forget about worship. We were created to worship the Creator; the disciples were chosen to love first, and then serve. I get it backwards so many times and too often I’m satisfied naming the name of Christ when, in reality, I haven’t even spoken to Him—besides a quick blessing before I eat my cereal on the way to work or a quick prayer to thank Him for the near-miss on the interstate—in who knows when? Martha missed it, but Jesus reminds her that Mary knows what this relationship is all about—“One thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part…” Don’t get so caught up in the overwhelming parts of life that we forget about the Omnipotent One who longs to spend time with us and settle our spirits before a hectic day.

“41And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things:
42But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.”

A Love Hate Relationship

I'm reminded of the move, 10 Things I Hate About You (oh, how I miss Heath Ledger!)...just some thoughts running through my head today (among other things!) I am blessed beyond measure, blessed beyond my wildest dreams, blessed inexplicably....

I hate....

• When he has to be gone for more than a day...heck, more than a few hours!
• When he's feeling bad but won't let me take him to the doctor
• When he gets discouraged
• When he doesn't get to talk to the babies
• When things don't go as planned and they're totally out of his control
• When he says something that didn't come out just right (not because of how it makes me feel, but how broken he's going to be if I let him know it)

I love...

• Waking up next to him in the morning
• When we both get hysterical about something random
• When we have movie nights with all three of the kids snuggled up together
• When he buys me a SmartWater without me asking
• When he buys me flowers
• When he rubs my back
• When he looks at me randomly and says, "You're so beautiful."
• When he looks at me randomly and says, "I'm so glad I married you."
• When he looks at me randomly and says, "You're the best wife."
• When he works on the car...a car..any car...and lets me watch (or help!)
• When he cuts me off in the middle of a conversation and says, "looklooklooklook" at a classic car (yes, I really do love it!)
• When he initiates the conversation about us matching for church on Sunday
• When he writes something about me on facebook and calls me right away to ask me if I've looked on the site
• When he says in the darkness, right before sleep, "scoot over here and let me hold you."

Get Your Kicks on Route 66...or Hwy 27, whatever works....

We got home from the beach last night around 11pm. You should know that the trip down to Panama City Beach took us approximately 7 1/2 hours...give or take. Going home? We left the condo at 9:30am local time (10:30 GA time) and got home at 11:02pm last night. That's right, folks...12 1/2 hours later we arrived in Georgia at what had to be, at that time, the most beautiful house I'd ever seen. It's amazing how a sore bottom and ears weary of hearing children fighting in the backseat can transform any place into 'home, sweet home!!' What made the trip take so long? Well, let's see...

(a) a one-hour long stop at Alvin's Island for souvenirs
(b) a gas fill-up and potty break.
(c) a stop to re-secure the cover on dad's wheelchair (it turned itself on and almost rolled out of the back of the pickup; good thing it was pinned down.)
(d) a stop to move the cooler off the top of my car after the whistling almost sent Casey and me to the nuthouse....I couldn't take it!
(e) another potty break
(f) another fill-up that turned into a snack break
(g) hot boiled peanuts. On the side of the road
(h) a trip through Blakely, Ga, looking for lunch. The Garmin (Serena is her name) took us to three restaurants that don't actually exist (Casey said, 'wouldn't it be funny if this second restaurant (Mama's Place) were at somebody's house?)...when Serena said, 'arriving at location on right,' we looked to the right..and saw a house. With no sign. Grr.
(i) another fill-up
(j) leap frog so dad could get in the front after Serena tried to take me down a dirt road that didn't look right at all. Dad and his faithful atlas decided it was time to comandeer the course.

I wish I could have gotten to a keyboard on the way home last night to record some of the conversations in the backseat...but given the fact that (a) I was driving and (b) it is now illegal for people my age to do anything on a cell phone while driving except make and receive phone calls (good for them....hard habit to break for me, I admit.), I had to wait until now.

For those of you who were previously unaware, my father invited us to accompany them to the beach for a few days for a nice getaway and so that my bonus babies could spend some time with their other cousin, Evan (visiting here from NC for a couple of weeks). Off we went. For the trip down to PCB, Casey and I had the girls and MeMa and Papa had the boys. We swapped on the way home so everyone could benefit from the newly installed (thanks to Casey) portable DVD players in MeMa and Papa's truck. Somewhere around ArmPit, Georgia, I got put in the driver's seat because Brenda (aka MeMa) was falling asleep at the wheel. Off we went.

The following conversations are in no particular order...but a couple of them made me almost lose control of my vehicle...and one or two were as convicting as a sermon...so there ya have it.

Do you have fast glue?
Corbin and Evan both got wooden swords at the beach (I'm not sure whose idea this was, but....yeah.) Casey and I both bet that they wouldn't last 10 minutes once we got home before they got broken. We were both wrong. Corbin broke his sword before we ever left the Sunshine state (aka FL.) In his attempt to repair said sword, the following conversation ensued:

Corbin: Evan, check in your pocket to see if you have any fast glue.
Evan: I do not have any fast glue at my home.
C: But check in your pocket to see if you have any fast glue.
E: But I do not have any fast glue at my home.
C: That is not the question!

Let's Wrassle!
Somehow we got on the discussion of the military and the army, and Corbin asked Evan if he knew the song, "I'm in the Lord's Army." Evan confirmed that he did. They started singing the song. In case you missed VBS, Children's Church, or Children's Choir for the last several years, here are the lyrics:

I may never march in the infantry,
ride in the cavalry,
shoot the artillery,
I may never zoom o'er the enemy
but I'm in the Lord's Army (Yes, Sir!)

I'm in the Lord's Army (Yes, Sir!)
I'm in the Lord's Army (Yes, Sir!)

I may never march in the infantry,
ride in the calvary,
shoot the artillery,
I may never zoom o'er the enemy
but I'm in the Lord's Army (Yes, Sir!)

Simple, right? (Yes, I hear some of you singing along! Way to go!)

Now...for the alternate lyrics (brought to you by my nephew and Bonus Baby)

I may never march in the infa'try,
ride in the calvary,
shoot the utilities,
I may never wrassle (not wrestle...that's what people up north do..down here they wrassle) the enemy,
but I'm in the Lord's Army.

Just so you know, Evan made sure to add his credentials (I guess in an attempt to validate that these were indeed the words to the song..."One time I went for 4 days to 2 Vacation Bible Schools!") Who knew?

The A Word...
I'm not sure how, but the kids discussed EVERYTHING....including profanity (not sure how it came up....but I veered them in a different direction as quickly as possible.)I think it started when I mentioned not watching a particular movie without the TV Guardian because of all the bad language. Corbin told Evan that "Becky doesn't use bad words because she goes to church. Like, every Sunday. Like, all the time. Except that one weekend when she had to miss because my daddy was sick. And he was upset because he couldn't go to church."

It's amazing that even little kids associate every part of your life as a whole and they know what should and shouldn't go together. They recognize hypocrisy (even though they may not know what the word means) when they see it, even though we may call it "making an example," "teaching a lesson," or even "being an adult." Kids see right through it. Someone told me one time they liked me better than someone else...when I asked them why, their response was, "because you act the same all the time, no matter who's around." Wow. I don't say that to my credit. That's my goal in life...as a teacher, a wife, a daughter, a bonus mama, a sister, and ultimately as a Christian. I don't ever want anyone (especially the three sets of eyes...well, six if you count my nieces and nephews) to be able to look at my life and recognize that I'm churchy when it's church time (or when it makes me look good to some) and worldly when it's to my benefit. What a checkup for me. I have some changes that need to be made...soon. Disclaimer...this blog is aimed at noone in particular, (well, except me.). Promise, cross my heart. It was more convicting to me than anything. Please don't read into it about who I'm judging and who I'm trying to act better than. I'm not. If the shoe fits and you feel it's time for a change in your life, good for you---put the shoes on and walk around in them. If you get a laugh out of what Corbin said and nothing more, good for you. I'm glad I could make you laugh :)

So...now we're home. There is schoolwork to be done. Ansleigh volunteered (I promise!) to mop the kitchen floor this morning. She threw in a cabinet cleaning for good measure. Skyla helped me scrub the toilet and the tub, mop, and refill the toilet paper holder. She has appointed herself as MeMa's new housekeeper. Ivy came in and volunteered (again, promises..no coaxing!) to mop the bathroom floor. I let her. And I'm okay with that. :) On to fixing lunch for the motley crew and doing some more laundry. :)

Education from a 7 year old

So, it's not profound....but I have thought about it about 10 times this weekend, so I thought it warranted a blog.

I was doing laundry (and if you would ever like to come help me with this mountainous task, feel free. :)). Like a good launderer, I always check pants pockets. One time I found a note from my hubby telling me how much he loved me, placed there right before I collected his clothes for the washer...how sweet :) Most recently, I was washing Corbin's clothes. He is not nearly as careful as my Casey is about cleaning out his pockets, so I wanted to make sure that no clothes (or washing machines) got ruined by a stray marker or ink pen.

From my ventures in the laundry room, I have surmised that you can learn a lot about people by what they keep in their pockets. Priorities, goals, even philosophies on life. These, you'll find, are much different in the lives of children than they are in the older folks' lives. In Corbin's pockets this particular go-round? Well.....

A die cut of a holly leaf: Every day is a holiday. Daily life should never be mundane; the day doesn't have to have a national holiday attached to it to be special; rather, celebrations are in the eye of the beholder. Find a reason to make the day special.

A rubber ball: Never be too busy or too old to play. There is a time and a place, of course, but in practically every situation there is an occasion to revert back to younger years. Make a game of household chores. Make a scavenger hunt out of filing. Create a fun lab in the kitchen while making brownies. Dogpile your husband with the kiddos while you're getting ready to leave (yes, we did....and we learned that from now on, all dogpiles will happen in the middle of the bed so as not to have small children rolling off of said pile onto the floor...)

Four slips of perfume/cologne samplers from Kohl's: Always smell good. That seems pretty simple, but it escapes people at times. Good hygiene is just good practice. And it's not bad on the ladies, either (we walked in to Eric and Marie's the other night and Marie and Ashley both commented on how good my Casey smelled....and he does. Like 99.8% of the time. Yummy.) :)

A white ninja figurine: Always be ready to fight for what is important...or go incognito as necessary. :)

Ode to my Bonus Babies

I have spoken...written...typed....prayed...) in great depths about how blessed I am to have such an incredible husband, and I am. He and I were talking last night about how thankful we both are to have one another. He is so good to me....well, don't get me started, because that's not why I'm here today. :)

One of the added "bonuses" (no pun intended) of getting married to my sweetheart was the three stepchildren I got in the deal. I hate the term stepchildren, so we decided a while back (before we even got engaged, really) after overhearing a sweet little old lady who had "bonus grandchildren" that I would be a bonus mama and they would be bonus babies. When I explain that to people, it usually gets a grin from whomever I am talking to. :)

So I have three. Bonus babies, that is. They are all incredibly special and I want to make sure they hear it often. And see it often. And know, without a doubt, that I don't consider them something I "had" to accept if I was going to marry their daddy....they were indeed a bonus.

Casey asks me all the time (as a matter of fact, we had this conversation just yesterday) if I regret marrying him. if I have had second thoughts about the deal I was getting. if the kids ever get to be 'too much' for me. Each time I say "not at all!" And I mean it. Absolutely, it has been an adjustment. I have to get used to, especially now that we have the kids full time for the summer, having someone around all the time. The adjustment is bigger, I suppose, given the fact that I have lived all by myself for the last 7 years of my life. That said, I love the change. I love my life. Every single part of it. I have been given an incredible gift in my husband. I have been given three phenomenal gifts in the three children that I call my own. :)

Ansleigh is the oldest and the most sensitive in the crew. She amazes me with her maturity, but she still enjoys being a little girl in a lot of respects (as I type this, I'm sitting at work with both my girls sitting in front of me. Ansleigh is painting her toenails and has her teddy bear in tow.) I'm thankful for that, as I teach way too many girls who are trying to grow up too quickly. If you ask Ansleigh if she's ever going to get married, she will look at you with a look of absolute disbelief and say, "Nuh-uh. I'm going to live with my daddy forever!" Ansleigh loves her own space, but she likes to hold my hand sometimes when we go to the store. She makes me feel loved. She has made it clear that she loves me, but she was the hardest to win over in the beginning...not in general, but when the time came that she realized she may have to share Casey with me. I knew once I had her approval that life was going to be okay. She doesn't realize it, but she's Casey's emotional bodyguard in a lot of ways. She has helped guard his heart, I think. They say kids are a good judge of character, and I hope that's true, since she has accepted me as part of her life. Ansleigh is shy beyond belief, but if she thinks nobody's watching she'll dance with wild abandon--literally. It doesn't take much to bring a tear to her eye--a dog who has escaped his pen, an umbrella broken by accident, the thought that she has disappointed someone or made them uncomfortable, or even a look of disapproval from me or her daddy--will do it. She's only 12, but she gets sarcasm. In a way that some of my high schoolers don't. I remember with a smile a conversation that took place between Ansleigh and my daddy a few months ago after they had cleaned out the garage together:

my dad: "Ansleigh, I have a bone to pick with you."
Ans: "um...what?"
dad: "when we were in the garage yesterday. You killed some of my spiders. They were very special to me. I want to know how you're going to take care of that."
Ans: "You want a cricket?"

And that's just the way Ansleigh is. I connect with Ansleigh in a way that I can't really explain. I know I'm not her mom, and don't desire to take that place in her life--but I am so very thankful for the relationship that she and I have. I have seen kids who refer to their stepmom as "my dad's wife" as almost an insult, a refusal to accept her as a relative. I am blessed.
And that's just the way my Ansleigh is.

Ivy and I have a physical connection. People in general are suprised at how much we look alike, and the amazement grows when they learn we are not biologically related. Our eyeballs are the same size. :) Ivy has one of the most carefree spirits of anybody I've ever met, and she is amazed by everything. I have literally heard her cry out in amazement upon seeing a flower in bloom on the side of the road that wasn't there the day before. Ivy is my most "touchy feely" b.b.; she'd be perfectly content to lie on top of me while we watch movies...in fact, she has done just that. She wants to hold my hand all the time--even when we're all cuddling in the bed watching a movie. She asks me if she can play with my hair (which is just fine with me!) and she tells me she loves me all the time. She loves looking at my jewelry (for that reason, I think she's got some of mama June in her, too!) and not many days go by that she doesn't ask to wear my earrings. Ivy is artistic. She sees shapes and beauty in ordinary, everyday things. She told us a month ago she was going to ask for an elephant for her birthday. And she wasn't kidding. (I don't know if Amber realizes this or not...but I'm here to advise her that Mr. Elephant will have to live in Greensboro...) She can draw, and even at 9 years old, what she draws looks like what it's supposed to look like. Ivy loves everything--clothes, purses, Polly Pockets (Pollys Pocket? no idea...), kitties, puppies, markers, shoes, people, sleeping, and life in general--and I don't think she takes anything for granted (except for the fact that, for her, she is the center of her own world! The only thing that surprises her, really, is when I don't drop everything I'm doing to cater to her right away :)) I'm watching her sit in the front of the auditorium at work right now...when she caught my eye, she flashed an instant, genuine smile...and that's just who she is.

Corbin, in the words of my father, "just looks like you want to squeeze him." When he smiles his eyes join in--literally--and he is just fun. Where we see packing boxes, Corbin sees a robot waiting to appear. He kisses me on the cheek and forehead about 38 times a day and tells me I'm "the best bonus mama ever." I never wonder if I'm loved in Corbin's eyes, because he tells me every day...multiple times. He cringes when his daddy kisses me, but he peeks through his hands to see if it'll happen again. Corbin fits in the nook of my arm on movie nights and loves to cuddle. Corbin is tireless and will run until his legs wear out. He loves everything superhero; if he can't find one, he'll transform himself into captain something-or-other (complete with cape and dagger). He wants to be just like his daddy; I remember Casey finding a shirt and tie combo one weekend and finding another one in Corbin's size. Corbin's eyes lit up as he realized that he was "going to be handsome just like daddy!". Today, boy day is happening at our house while me and the girls are at work. I don't know what they're doing, but it's going to be filled with fun, video games, and all things man. Corbin is thoughtful; he made a card for Casey on Sunday when he was so sick, and he is often the initiator of "get well soon" and "happy birthday" cards around the house. He has begun asking to help me cook and fold laundry, which is just fine with me. We have learned together how to make sweet tea and have had math lessons with my measuring cups. He is a quick learner. He likes to fold towels, even though he doesn't quite have the hang of how to make them look like rectangles yet. :) Once he realized that I didn't mean a "smoochy smoochy" date, he asks when we're having Corbin-Becky day. He informed me before we got married that he was going to start calling me Beck...and sometimes he does. He is usually the first one to tell me that dinner is fabulous and thank me for cooking (and of course, the girls follow suit...they're so grateful, and that makes me proud to know them.)

All in all, life couldn't get much better. Most people who get married talk about how blessed they are to marry the love of their life. I get to one-up them and say that not only did I marry the love of my life, I got three beautiful children in the process. :) I'd say God's been pretty good to this girl.

Death of an Office Chair

My office chair has officially gone to be...wherever the final resting place of fallen furniture happens to be. Serves her right, I suppose--she tried to kill me about three weeks ago (I have no logic for why my chair is a "she," other than the fact that "chair" in Spanish is a feminine noun. Grammar lesson for the day.) Yes, the bucking bronco disguised as a seemingly harmless (and comfortable) office chair tried to throw me off her back in a futile attempt to exact revenge on humans in general. Since that time she has attempted to also maul or permanently disable my assistant principal, a social studies teacher, and the special education coordinator.

I will survive. I will also get myself another office chair with no ill will towards the human race. :)

I hate him.

With a passion. He is conniving, evil, devious, deceitful, rebellious, prideful, hateful, cowardly, and mean. He preys on the weak and even tries to weaken those who are strong in their faith. The Bible says that he roams about the earth like a lion, seeking whom he may devour. He doesn't like it when we take a stand, and he absolutely hates it when we pray together.

Mrs. Lisa and Bro. Johnny have been talking about prayer in Sunday School and how effective it is. The Scripture teaches us (in James, I believe), that "the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man (woman, couple) availeth much (for the good of the Kingdom of God). They mentioned to us last week that Satan has been attacking their household--their family--their foundation--because he doesn't like what they're trying to do. Apparently he moved to Covington after he left Loganville.

I hate it the way that he plays on fears, anxieties, our past failures, our own self-esteem (or lack thereof), our tendency to self-preserve, and I hate how he attacks those that are trying to do right. I hate him for his desire to steal, kill and destroy... but I'm thankful that I have The Mighty One to do battle for me when I can't defend myself. I'm so blessed to have a husband that is humble enough to pray over us both and beg God for protection when we sense satan's claws creeping up too close to us and even more grateful to have married someone who recognizes such attacks for what they are.

I'm here to put Satan on notice.

Dear Satan,

I see you. I hear your attacks. I have seen you destroy families, tear marriages apart, and weaken the bonds of faith through your efforts. I am sick and tired of it. I feel your presence in the conversations and daily temptations we experience and in the pessimistic thoughts that result from them, and I will not let you win. I waited too long, sought God's will too hard, and care too much about my marriage to let you get a foot in our door. You cannot have our children. You may not have my husband. You will not destroy me or the testimony the Lord has given us. No matter what it takes, we will keep praying. We will keep begging God for help. We will continue to rebuke you in His name. We will pray over the precious children God has allowed us to borrow for a time--we will pray that they will be mighty warriors, sold out for Our Father, and hedged in with the protective wall of prayer we have built around them. We will fight you with every ounce of strength that is in us, and, when that's not enough, we will cry out to Our Creator (and yours too, in case you forgot) for help. We will claim the promises that no weapon formed against us will prosper. Please don't forget that your days are numbered. You may have won small skirmishes in my life or in the life of my family, but you will not win this war.

Sincerely,
Becky

Whew. I feel better. What a joy it is to know that, according to the Love Letter the Lord wrote us (aka the Bible), we win. satan loses. simple as that.

Lessons Learned

I fell into the trap. You know, the "those dang foreigners can't speak English well and I don't want to deal with them" trap. The story unfolds on a sunny, clear day in the middle of May in Conyers, GA. I walked into Target. You know, this place:

You should know first my mission (this becomes an important part of the story later, so read on).
Shortly after our honeymoon, we went to Target to use some of our gift cards and get some things for the house. I had calculated how much we had, and was surprised when we had to pay as much out of pocket as we did. I realized on the way home that night what had happened--I had banked on getting a credit from returning some of our gifts (we'd gotten doubles of some things, yadda yadda). I called to see if it would be possible to (a) return said gift items and get a gift card; (b) "return" some of the items we'd just purchased (not physically, but on paper); (c) "repurchase" those items using the gift card and (d) get a credit back to my bank account for that amount. She said she wasn't sure but to come in and try. (Are you thoroughly confused? It confuses me just talking about it.)

Back to yesterday (you remember, sunny day, blah blah). I walked into Target and saw the lady at the customer service counter. She was helping another customer and I noticed right away (a) her skin tone and (b) her heavy accent. I admit it. I thought in my head, "she's never going to be able to understand what I need to happen. I wonder if I can diplomatically request someone else to help me...aka an American." Yes, that's exactly what I thought. Judge me if you like--I'm just being honest.

May, as her name happened to be, came over to see what I needed. I explained everything to her. I'll have you know that May took good care of me. She made sure I got everything I needed, including some finagling on her part to make sure that I got the full amount that I'd paid originally (despite the fact that some of the items we'd purchased were now on sale.) She did so efficiently and in the most friendly manner possible. Holy cow. I walked out of the store with my head a little lower than when I had come in.

Lessons learned for the day: (and at this point, I'd like to put in a plug for a book I've read, Sophie's Heart. There is a part of the book that is along the same lines.)

• Most "foreigners," "extranjeros" as they are called in Spanish, are not stupid. Lack of understanding of any particular language does not constitute lack of knowledge in general. I have three college degrees, but if I went to Yugoslavia right now I'd sound like a babbling idiot. I have spoken to plenty of American-born, American-bred folks who couldn't fight their way out of a wet paper sack, if you know what I mean. :)
  
• Having a heavy accent on the hearer's part also does not necessarily translate (pardon the pun) into the need to speak slowly and loudly on the speaker's part. Just because someone's speech gives away their native tongue (or land) doesn't mean their ears don't hear English (even our Southern drawl) perfectly fine.
• I agree that, if you come to America you should learn English. Not because it's "our country," because technically we weren't here first, but because it's the official language of this nation. (If I were going to live in Costa Rica I would learn...well, that's a bad example--I already speak Spanish. If I were going to live in Brazil, dear friends, I'd learn Portuguese.) That being said, I count it a privilege that I was born here. I'm thankful for the freedoms we have as American citizens to worship our God, educate our children, raise our families and care for our loved ones (for the most part) as we choose. I do not take it lightly that thousands have died to defend those rights, even if they may not personally believe in them. One of the blessings we have as a nation is the fact that people in other countries desire to be here. I'm not sure, but I don't think that Afghanistan, Mexico, or Ireland has people beating down their borders to get in (I may be wrong, but...) Just because I was born here doesn't mean I think "we" are the only people entitled to be here. I believe there should be control on immigration and such, but for those people who have taken the steps to be here legally and desire to become a fruitful part of our citizenry (is that a word? probably not.), I say welcome. :)
• May was a really nice lady. :)

So I'm looking....

...for date ideas. I said from the beginning of mine and Casey's courtship that our date life probably looked like no other couple's (of course, I realize too that this may be an overly optimistic statement...the Bible does say that there is nothing new under the sun, but what you hear about date nights rarely mirrored ours during the time before we got married.)

Just a quick opportunity to put a picture of me and the best thing that ever happened to me, outside of salvation:




Oh, we enjoyed what most would call typical dates--he took me to Longhorn's after our photo session for the church directory (this was before we even *technically* started dating, but we had had "the talk" ("Do you like me? "Um..no...well, maybe...why, do you like me?" "Yes, very much so." "Oh....well, yeah--I do too....as long as you're sure." "So now what?" "Um...let's pray about it." <--this went on for a month before we became "official.") :) We double dated with Holly and her boyfriend at the time...we went to the movies a few times. Those? Normal. We also took the kids to Wal-Mart. We came to my apartment and watched movies until one, two or all five of us (us + 3 kids) fell asleep, and then Casey or Casey and Corbin or Casey and all three kids would get up and go home. We traveled to Greensboro to pick up the kids, have ice cream, and take them back to their mom's house. We chaperoned youth outings and sat together. We went to my dad's house to help out or just hang out. We also went to the Farmer's Market looking for produce for his dad's store. We went looking at motorcycles, trucks, and hot rods. He came to see me at work for no particular reason. We went to Waffle House and had some of our most personal, informative talks until 2 am or whenever he had to leave for work. He stopped by my place to get soup and a sandwich on his way to work. These dates? atypical, I think...and I loved every one of 'em!

Now. We're married. for a whole month now. Now that we're back from the honeymoon and don't have to worry about curfew (other than knowing that I have to get up for work the next morning), I find that as long as one or both of us are working full-time jobs outside the home, dates will have to be a more concerted effort. It gets very easy to find that, by the time we get home from work, look at the mail, figure out our schedule, put gas in the car, run errands, feed the dog, and cook or warm up something for dinner, it's late. I look at the clock and want to spend uninterrupted quality time with my hubby, but the ticking of the clock reminds me that, in a very short amount of time, I need to be rested because (as Bro. Johnny says,) "6am comes awfully early!" I don't want to get in the rut of work-home-responsibilities-supper-cuddling-bed every day.

This is where you, my faithful reader (are there any of you out there?), come into play. I looked online some today (a very limited amount--our school firewalls consider anything with the word 'romance,' 'sexy,' or 'date' to be off limits....so that cuts out most of my googling for date ideas.) for some ideas. I need more. things like...

Romantic Dates
Fun Dates
Cheap/Free Dates
Quick Dates (aka with little/no preparation needed)
Long Dates (aka those that may take lots of prep time, but last a long time)
"Get to Know You" Dates (aka those focused on learning rather than just the aim of spending time together)

Thoughts?

Technology is an incredibly useful tool. When it works. I did not realize just how much I rely on my cell phone until recently, and I find that I'm practically paralyzed without it. No matter how much I may scream from the rooftops that I'm not in bondage to my cell phone (yes, I sound like an addict..."i don't need my cell phone. I can stop using it anytime I want."), I don't go anywhere without it. Ever.

I decided (apparently subconsciously) that I would see just how durable my cell phone was on Saturday evening. Yes, these things have come so far that surely they can withstand going for a swim in a glass of sweet tea. Ah, naivete...how optimistic you are. I tried, to no avail, to dry out said phone. I spoke to it, caressed it, prayed over it, nothing. I even checked the little sticker inside the battery pack that tattles to the Verizon folks as to whether or not it is simply "broken" or has suffered the ominous water damage. It's still intact, but my phone still will not work.

No fear, I have insurance. I called Verizon to inform them of the damage and to ensure that I am insured. They assure me that I am, and transfer me to the Asurion folks to process my claim. My deductible: $89. The original price I paid when I upgraded to this phone: $189 -$100 rebate card =$89. Phooey. Well, that won't happen till payday. Options? I still have the Verizon Dare in the junk drawer at the apartment...which leads me to my second story of the day.

Dare apparently wasn't listening to all the church services I made her attend, as she appears to be possessed by one of Satan's legions. I noticed in September of 2009 while trying to send a text message that I kept pressing the button in the lower left of the screen (note to self..never buy a phone again that is entirely touch screen.)...then I noticed it wasn't me. I would try to send a text...dial a number...look at pictures...change the wallpaper....and no matter what I pushed, the button in the lower left of the screen would light up. Then it happened. I put the phone on the seat beside me and noticed it lighting up on its own. I locked the phone. Guess where the unlock button is on the screen? You got it. Dare unlocked herself and proceeded to try and send a text message. I called the Verizon folks to see who their local chaplain was and the guy on the other end told me I needed to update my phone by dialing *228. "sir, I can't." "Why not?" "Well, the screen is totally unresponsive and I can't press anything." "Oh, (sounding a bit puzzled), I see. Let's try something else. Go to the settings and tools menu and try to calibrate your screen." "Um...I can't do that." "You can't? (sounding exasperated at this point) Why not?" "(big sigh here) Because my screen is totally unresponsive and I can't press anything." "Ohh...ma'am, I can't help you. You'll need to go to a Verizon store." So I did. In the bathroom at the Verizon store Dare decided the whole store needed to hear the last voice message I had received, so she unlocked herself and opened up the song I got from one of my students. I promptly got embarrassed and bought a new, exorcised phone with no problems.

Dare is at it again. I have a phone (aka security blanket) that does nothing but sit here. Luckily I have her locked and she is staying that way, but for all the good she's doing me I could have just brought a brick with me to work. Oh, the joys of technology.

Friday...whoo, Friday. Different set of kids working on AP exams, same Testing Coordinator (aka me) waiting patiently for them to finish. I just read Mrs. Leanne's post about her mama, and it made me wax nostalgic (I don't ever wax anything, so listen up!) about my mama...and then I got to thinking about how blessed I am with Mother's Day coming up.

Mother's Day can be a little tricky for me. The Sunday before mother's day was when my mom 'graduated'--aka got a brand new body and got to go home to be with her Creator--12 years ago. Some years I handle it with gusto and some years, ..well, not so much. My goal is for 2010 to be one of those 'gusto' years. I admit, I have fallen down on the job--not one card have I bought for any of the mamas in my life...but they say phone calls are more special anyway, so we're going to fly with that thought.

I'm a pretty blessed individual, if you ask me (go ahead, ask me!)--A lot of people get the chance to spend their lives being loved and influenced by an incredible mom...I have had six.

My biological mom, Angelia Brown Phillips, was the best mom I ever could have asked for. Ever. She never raised her voice at anyone (except that one time in high school when some telemarketer was trying to take advantage of her naive daughter--that would be me--and she got him on the phone. I'm glad I wasn't him.) Mama had a quiet faith; she didn't get to go to church a lot in the last few years she was alive because of her health, but every bit of advice she ever gave me was grounded in God's word. I remember sitting with her on more than one occasion and her begging me never to start drinking or smoking. Some people ask how I turned out as well as I did, and besides the Lord, I believe that it had a lot to do with the fact that her and daddy never threatened. They both told us growing up that there would never be anything we could be that was "too bad to come home for." That's not to say they didn't put the fear of God in us or spank us when we needed discipline, but we knew that no matter what, we would work it out. There was no threatening, but rather a pleading for us to do right. It worked. Mama wasn't a good housekeeper, but she worked a full-time job (not to mention the one-hour-each-way commute), so when she got home in the evenings she was more concerned with making sure she talked to daddy about how his day was, talked to us about our day at school or work, and spending time with us than she was with making sure there was no dust on the TV. I appreciate that more than I can say. I told my mom everything (even the time I got my cartilage pierced right before my 18th birthday without telling her...eventually I couldn't handle the guilt and showed her..her response? "Well, if that's the worst thing you ever do then I'll consider myself a success as a parent..but I don't want to be here when your father finds out.") and she was my best friend (save your sermons--I know parents and kids aren't supposed to best friends---but you know what I mean.)---I see girls walk through the halls of RCHS every day who talk about how much they loathe their mom, and I just want to grab them by the shoulders and say, "if you had any idea what it was like to be without her you'd shut your mouth."...but that's something you can't possibly understand unless you're there. We bought cookie sheets for mama for Mother's Day the year she died and we never got to give them to her. I used those cookie sheets up until a few years ago and I thought of her with every batch. :)

My Kansas mama, as I affectionately call June, has been in my life since around 1992. She and David were a couple at church that we had met---I don't know if it was the bright colors she always wore or the jewelry that made her fingers sparkle...it could have been the fact that she kind of took me under her wing not long after we met. Whatever it was, Mama June quickly became a huge influence in my life. In 1994 my brother found out he had Hodgkin's Disease. From March until November of that year, mama and daddy were at the hospital with him a few times a week in Augusta for chemotheraphy and radiation; so that I wouldn't be left at home or have to miss school, I would stay at David and June's house for a week at a time. I noticed that, no matter what day it was, there was always an adventure at their house--David was out working somewhere--trucking, mechanicking, cutting the field, or something else--and June was working on a project...quilting, sewing, planting, painting, or making a set of curtains out of something she had found in the storage closet. She cooks three times a day even now--it may be something small and simple, but you can be guaranteed that she's going to cook at least one part of every single meal..homemade biscuits, corn in the microwave (I mean corn on the cob, y'all--she knows how to make it in the microwave and it's yummy!), or pork chops on the grill. I don't think there's anything that she doesn't know how to make. June got saved not long after I met her, and she absolutely inspires me to be a better Christian. She is a phenomenal example of what a helpmeet is supposed to be for her husband, and she has a servant's heart like you wouldn't believe.

My Aunt Betty has got to be one of the sweetest ladies on the planet. She's my mom's oldest sister, and is old enough to have been my grandmother. I've known her my whole life, but after mama died she unofficially adopted our family. For a long time after that May she would bring meals over (for some reason, I noticed that the green beans she brought always came packaged in a Country Crock butter tub. Every. Single. Time.) :) She calls me, my brother, and my dad on a regular basis to check on us. She still makes million dollar salad for daddy on occasion because she knows he likes it. I get a card for every holiday (including my birthday, the most important holiday of all!) and she sees to it that I get invited to all of the family events. She was one of the people who had to give their stamp of approval on Casey before I could marry him, and I'm so glad she's been a part of my life the way she has. Aunt Betty has the market cornered on southern hospitality and she has made sure that I got my fair share of lessons in southern charm as well. She always makes sure I know that I'm being prayed for, and I'm confident that her prayers have been a huge contribution to the way some of my life has turned out.

My stepmom came into the picture in Christmas of 1999. Dad told me he'd met someone on the internet (yes, you read that right!) and I met her in the summer of 2000 right before I was leaving for my first mission trip to Costa Rica. I knew not too long after that that dad was going to marry her, and, as awkward as I felt about this new woman in my life, I saw a sparkle in my dad's eyes again that died when my mama did. For so long after mama died, I watched my dad just 'exist.' When Brenda came into the picture, I saw him gain an ounce of two or hope that life might just go on. Brenda is talkative (much like me) and you never have to question where you stand with her; I appreciate this personality trait in her because 99% of what she thinks, she says (if she can remember it that long :)). She wants to know all about my life (even the little details) and that shows me that she's interested in me. That makes me feel important. She has a heart the size of Montana...or Canada, better yet. There's not a thing in the world she wouldn't do for me--or dad--or my brother--or almost any Joe Blow off the street, because she's just that generous. She gives some of the best backscratches in the world, and doesn't get offended at all if you stick your feet in her lap and ask her for a footrub (and I have, on many occasions!) She is good to--and for--my daddy and I love her for that. She loves me and Greg like we came from her, but she's always been sensitive and has made sure that we know that she's not trying to take my mama's place. I appreciate that so much about her.

I met Mrs. Lisa seven years ago when I first started coming to Light of Calvary here in Conyers. I was drawn to her family for the way they seemed to bond with one another, and I think I remember calling my dad and saying I had met the white Cosby family. Over time, Mrs Lisa became another mom-away-from-mom that I could go to for advice, support, or just to cry. I appreciate so much the way that, no matter what question I have for her, she always answers with scripture. I yearn to have the Biblical knowledge that she does. She loves her husband and children beyond words and would fight for them to the death, if that's what it took. They are her absolute priority and you can see that in the decisions and sacrifices she makes. Through her Sunday School class I have learned a lot about what being a good wife means (though, at the time I was in her class, I remember being a little pessimistic as to whether or not I would ever get the chance to put into practice what I had been taught!)

Most recently, Mrs. Toni has come into my life. I'm thankful to say that I have a mother-in-law, not a monster-in-law :) Mrs. Toni struggles so much with her health and what she wants to say often comes out either garbled or not at all. That being said, she never ceases to put a smile on my face. She calls Casey a lot and tells him the she loves him and me (even if, at times, she can't remember my name...'Female' works just fine for me!) When she sees me at church, she always has a smile and a hug. She has had a huge part in the way my husband has turned out, and for that I am thankful--she and my father-in-law helped create the best husband this girl ever could have asked for. Mrs. Toni doesn't get around very well but still finds a way to keep her house clean, and that is a challenge to me to do better. She reads the Bible all the time and when I visit their house I often see scripture posted on the refrigerator, on her mirror, or by her bed and I am encouraged.

For the second day in a row, I want to say I am blessed. I am thankful for the women that the Lord has put in my life, and I consider it a privilege that some of each of them has contributed to who I am. Happy Mother's Day!!

Well....I'm sitting here watching my AP kiddos try and rack their brains to pass this English Literature exam. Boring from my side of the table, and I'm glad I'm not them!!

That said, I was thinking about my sweet husband this morning and I thought I'd brag about him for just a bit (yes, we're still honeymoonin'..and I hope we are in 10 years..20 years..50 years!) :)

We've been married a little over a month and pretty much every day he does or says something that makes me drop my jaw and wonder what I did to deserve such a wonderful husband. He affirms me several times every day about how beautiful, smart, talented, and hardworking I am (I've said it before and I'll say it again---there are days that I know I screwed up. I know there are times that I look like junk. I have imperfections and things about me and my body that I want to change--but he looks in my eyes, looks me up and down, or inspects what I've just cooked, and somehow sees beyond all that and tells me I'm incredible. Somedays it just makes me want to cry.)

If you've known me for more than about 12 minutes you know I'm not a good housekeeper. One of the things he mentioned to me before we got married (not a request, but rather a passing statement) was that he loved having the bed made up. I'm not a bed maker...but it makes him happy, so I've made an honest effort to build this into my daily routine. If he's still asleep when I leave for work in the morning, I make it when I get home. If he has to get up for a job at the same time I do, he ALWAYS helps me make the bed. The last couple of weeks have been crazy for me at work with testing and stuff, and I have come home on more than one occasion to a bed that's already made and tidied. That, to me, is huge--I consider housework a woman's job..nay, privilege--and when he takes care of something like that for me, it tells me he loves me(yes, I'm about as anti-feminist as they come--but I cannot wait for the day when this is my full time job--it's what I believe we as women were created to do and I love doing things around the house and for my husband that make him feel taken care of.)

Last Friday Casey walked into my office at work with lunch because he knew I hadn't had time to stop and eat. He handed me a bag, and said, "I know you've been a busy bee this week...so I got you something." I opened it up to the little figurine below. He then pulled a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back and said (rather sheepishly), "I got these for ya too..." I seriously almost cried.

Yesterday was beyond stressful (not sure why it hit all at once..maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was the lack of sleep (about 5 hours the night before), or maybe it was the fact that I literally had to be two places at once and couldn't figure out how to make it happen)..I had to be at work by 7; I stayed there till 4:30, went to the apartment with Casey to pack some things, went to church to help Caleb with math, stayed at church for revival until 10 (downstairs in the nursery, no less), went home to take a shower and lie down until Casey got back from the store. Needless to say I was beyond exhausted by the time I got back to my humble abode! :) When I walked in the kitchen at home I found this note:

I walked into our bedroom and saw a made up bed (that I had nothing to do with!)...what a nice treat! I got a shower and laid down until Casey came in, then got up to help him put up groceries. I tried to make him something to eat, and he told me to go lie down. I'm stubborn. This is another fact that you know about me if..well, you've ever come in contact with me for more than 8 minutes! Casey went to change into his PJs and I kept doing what I was doing. He came back out with a trash can from the bedroom he was emptying, looked at me, and said, "you're not obeying." That may seem harsh or belittling to some, but holy cow. I begged God my whole life that He would send me a spouse who would be firm enough to overcome my independent spirit, anbd Casey does just that when he feels it's in my best interest. That doesn't make me feel controlled, it makes me feel loved. I went to lie down and he came in a few minutes later, before he ate his dinner, so we could pray together and I could go ahead and go to sleep.

What a sweet man. What a blessed life I have. What an incredible God I serve that He knows exactly who and what I need and provides it every time!!! :)

As I sit here watching a handful of students try (hopefully) their hardest to write an essay worthy of a score of 200+, I was looking back at a blog that I posted about 6 months ago….there have been updates, and I smiled as I read it and thought about just what God has done….in honor of that, I thought I’d repost and add a few things...
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June 4, 2009
Work? Who wants to work when there's blogspot? (If I could get on facebook from here I'd be there, too.) :) I was just looking back over the last several posts and realized that a year ago, I blogged from this office about my new job. It's been a whole year that I've been out of the classroom and in a new position. That being said, it's been an eventful year...both on campus and off.Workwise, I've learned so much.

• I worked with a PHENOMENAL group of people--many new to our campus and some veterans--and was blessed to make some great new friends (Cathy, Heidi, and Holly...you guys are the best..even though you will probably never see this post!) :) I look forward to continuing to learn, do things better, and make new friends next year.
  I started grad school and am almost done. I kept a 4.0 somehow or another and got inducted into Phi Kappa Phi. How this benefits me, other than an extra line on my résumé, I'm not sure. Nevertheless, the Lord has helped me. Praying for help through the next 12 days and 7 assignments. I finally graduated! I have sought an administrative position, but the Lord has seen fit to keep me at Rockdale for another year (and possibly longer). Through the course of the first semester of 2009-2010, I learned SO much about having to rely on the Lord as well as being content no matter the circumstances (Paul wrote, “I have learned that in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.” That had to be my go-to verse so many times last semester when I was simply overwhelmed at all that was ahead of me. Six months later, I’m still alive.
• I've gained a stalker. Well, I don't know that I'd go that far...well, maybe I will. His name is Shakim. He was a freshman this year so he'll be with me for 3 more years. I took down all the cards he drew for me--I think I counted about 20. Casey suggested I start a scrapbook to give to his mom when he graduates. Shakim hugged me every morning at the front door (where I had duty), found me at least one more time throughout the day (either in the cafeteria or in my office) to give me another hug, and told me on a regular basis that he "likes me very much" and "likes white women." I love it. Shakim still comes to see me on a daily basis and makes a point to hug me. On the days when he has art, I still receive a card from him. Sometimes it has words about how we’re buddies, and sometimes it’s just a picture. Either way, it reminds me that someone is thinking of me.
• I baked. A lot. No, really. I also had to defend the Fridays when (a) I had no groceries, (b) got in too late to bake, or (c) forgot that it was Sweet Shoppe day. I tried to follow in Tracey's footsteps. Sometimes I was successful and sometimes I wasn't. Sweet Shoppe day? What’s that? I have seriously fallen down on the job. Sad. I should bake this Friday.
• Speaking of baking, I learned how to make homemade fried chicken this year when it was requested that I bring it to the Carey's house as a "congratulations-you-had-twins-and-I-want-to-help" gift. A special shout out to Stacey for her Crocker advice and moral support through the whole process. Stacey, Stacey, Stacey. Moral support doesn’t even begin to describe what you’ve been to me over the last several months. I’m so thankful she agreed to be my matron of honor (and I hope I’ve fulfilled my promise thus far not to turn into a bridezilla as my day approaches!). Stacey, I love you more than words can say and I’m thankful you’re my friend.
• I made decisions not to suspend kids who very well deserved it. They probably have no idea what the term grace means, but it just makes sense in my life--God's given me grace more times than I can count and I'm thankful. For some, I looked back on their reactions to said grace and probably should have suspended them. For others, I'm glad I made the decision I did and that they took heart to the second..third...fourteenth chance they were given. Grace….greater than all my sin. The Lord chooses not only to forgive me each time I fall, but to pick me up and dust me off. Time and time again over the last several months I have seen specific instances of grace played out in my own life. Lord, thank you for forgiveness.
• I almost had to confront angry magnet parents when I forgot to order late AP exams. Again...the Lord handled it and things got taken care of; mercy was shown when I had to admit my mistake to my principal and the magnet principal....I didn't get yelled at, not even once. I'll have you know that I’m actually ahead of schedule with the AP exam this year…can you believe it?
• One word: Roz. Holly, you know who/what I'm talking about.
• I was humbled on more than one occasion. One time that specifically comes to my remembrance was graduation test week...I felt about like I'd have to get better to die but couldn't take off; Heidi took over to get things done for me that I absolutely could not do. Again, a picture of God's mercy. (There was a lot of "God art" going on in my office this year.) I miss Heidi this year. I have had to do lots on my own. I don’t think I realized just what a huge help she was. Heidi, thank you again for all your work last year. It didn’t go unappreciated.
• Though I wasn't in the classroom, I had the chance to build some relationships with former students. I was given the opportunity to laugh with, counsel, pray with, and comfort them in a way that reminds me that God wants us as Christians to have LIFE ABUNDANT. That's the best way I know to describe it. Mel, Kayla, Quimichia, you guys are the best. I mean that. As my former students are moving on and graduating, I have fewer and fewer students who know me well enough to ask for advice or stop by for a chat. I miss that. Whether or not I’ll ever return to the classroom remains to be seen; I do know that my ultimate desire is to make an impact on this generation of youth. I want to leave a footprint in their lives that is filled with the blood of Christ, and I want them to know that there’s something different about me because of what He did in my life.
• I had a colleague come into my office, close the door, and, without being asked, pray for me in my capacity as testing coordinator (I think I had exams scattered all over the floor at the time..). I almost cried. Neodesha, you have no idea how thankful I am for you.
• I had a group of ladies promise to plan my bachelorette party when the time comes, quiz me about "the new guy," and threaten his life if he doesn't treat me right. Myra, Khalisha, Neodesha, Therese, Monica...you guys are awesome. I am thankful that you'd take an interest in my life. Casey proposed on December 5th in my daddy’s front yard….the bachelorette party is still planned, now that I’m officially getting married. Casey has indeed treated me right and won my heart. Oh, he’s so good to me—I love him more every day , through every hug, every conversation, and every mundane decision that has to be made about daily life. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with him!
• I got to watch a young lady walk across the stage at graduation who was given less than a 20% chance to do so. This young lady is proof that miracles happen, and reminds me on a daily basis that I have absolutely, positively no reason to complain about anything. I have never seen Raven without a smile plastered across her face, even when I could tell her body was racked with pain and it was all she could do to sit through a class or meeting. I am thankful for her example of thankfulness. (And in her words, at graduation, she was preparing to "blow this popsicle stand." :)) Sadly, Raven passed away in September of 2009. It is rare that you see such a young person who makes such an impact in such a short time on earth. This year’s Black History Show was dedicated to her, and she wrote a book before she died that has since been published. Raven’s legacy lives on in the hearts of many of our students, and it is good for me to read this on the days when I feel like a pity party would be the best thing for me. Who am I to complain? What right do I have to say that life is hard or that I can’t go on? If the Lord gave such a small, frail, sweet Raven the strength and perseverance to continue her journey until He called her home, how can I think He would not take care of this sparrow?
  

Yeah. Good stuff. God's been awesome to me and I'm so thankful. And now I should get back to moving all my furniture "3-5 feet away from the walls" (you do the math...my office is about 10 feet by 15 feet....add in the all the furniture, and there's no way this will happen. They'll have to be satisfied with "walking room.")
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