Overwhelmed

Last night we had our Easter program at church. We always do a pretty big presentation with a musical play. This year was no different.
I was telling the kids today, over lunch, that I can't really watch it while it's happening, because I might just bust out bawling. The whole story is overwhelming to me.
In our world of instant entertainment, our kids have a hard time grasping the reality of what they are seeing.
Sure, that's just a man playing the part of Jesus.
Sure, that's just fake blood on his body, and they are not really nailing Kevin to that cross.
But the reality is that the REAL Jesus was beaten so bloody that he wasn't even recognizable.
The reality is that they pierced His holy hands with spikes, and nailed His torn body to a cross, where He had the humiliation of hanging for all to see.
But the part that overwhelms me, is that when He took upon Himself my own sin, which made Him unpleasing to His Father, God forsook His own Son.
For me.
For you.
God laid on Him the iniquity of us all, so that by His stripes, we would be healed.

There is a penalty for sin. God says that penalty is death.
Eternal death.
But I don't have to pay for my sin, because Jesus did it for me.
How is it possible to feel so overwhelmingly unworthy, and so very thankful, at the same time?
I don't know.
But I do.
Do you?

Does This Jet Pack Make My Butt Look Big?

So I heard on the radio the other day that we have finally caught up with the Jetsons. Apparently, a jet pack has been invented for the masses.

I'm assuming that you will have to sign a legal waiver along the lines of, "I __________, being of sound mind and body, (for the moment) do hereby release __________ from any and all legal responsibility concerning the stupidity that shall herewith commence, as I strap my body to an explosive, highly flammable device, and attempt to break free of the gravitational force which God hath so graciously bestowed upon our planet, although, if the force could be released, ever so slightly, I would not weigh as much as I currently weigh...(wait, that's another agreement.) ...I won't sue if I run out of gas, hit a bird, get a bug in my eye, collide with a jet-liner, or choke on a cloud."

I was telling Shawn about it, and mentioning that, if money were no object...

Don't you love sentences like that?

If money was no object...

If I had all the money in the world...

I would pay off all my bills, fund a cure for cancer and stupidity, and buy my husband a jet pack.

So then we started talking about the beauty of owning this wave of the future.

He could leave for work and get there in 15 minutes, instead of an hour.

He wouldn't need much of a parking space.

It would get great mileage.

Or would it?

Just what is the weight limit on this thing, anyway?

Look What I'm Learning To Do!

Not Me! Monday (ladies only!)

It has been awhile since I did a Not Me! Monday. Mostly because I always do everything as planned, and never do anything embarrassing.

Riiiight!

Anyhow, Not Me! Monday is the genius brain-child of MckMama, and is a great way of telling others about our imperfections and foibles.

So here goes:

This week, I was not having so much pain in my feet that I poured paraffin wax in zip lock bags to put my feet inside. And when my feet were NOT in the bags of hot wax and I was NOT lying back in the dark, on the recliner, I did not hike my right leg into the air to squeeze the bag around my foot to distribute the remaining melted wax.

Ladies do not "hike" their legs up into the air, and I am a lady.

And certainly, while said leg was NOT hiked in the air while I did NOT squeeze the bag of hot wax, the still-melted wax did NOT run out the bag, down my inner left thigh, and onto the seat of the recliner.

And while the hot wax was NOT running down my left thigh and onto the seat of the recliner toward my, uh, er, um, "place," I did NOT start scooting up the back of the recliner, but not quickly enough. And I did NOT! sit there while the remaining still warm wax came to rest against me, and with my eyebrows raised, say, "Huh!"

Life Triumphs Over Death

I live in the forest.


I am surrounded by life.


Trees, flowers, birds, squirrels, deer, racoons, possums, skunks, foxes, coyotes, snakes, fish, leaves, and vines are seen regularly in my neighborhood.


By this time of year, the whole outdoors has begun to look brown. Just brown. Leaves, fallen after the last pick-up of the season, litter the ground, the vibrant colors a distant memory. They are brown. They are dead.


But new life awaits.


Green and yellow happiness has arrived.


Life has triumphed over death.

She Hangs Her Undies Out To Dry

If the pain radiating from my foot, from whence my husband dug out a splinter is any indication, we might be in for some warmer weather soon.
I actually did a little sunbathing today. (you know, in between school lessons and hanging laundry out on the line.)

Speaking of laundry, I'm pretty particular about what I hang. I love the smell of freshly washed sheets on my bed, especially if they smell like trapped sunshine. I like to hang towels out to dry, because they smell so clean after my shower, but I'm not crazy about the stiffness. I hang them anyway. I don't usually hang jeans, because when they come off, they look like they can stand on their own, and that scares me. Every once in a while I hang out a load of colors.

But I never,

NEVER

hang out underwear.

There are just some things folks don't need to see.

But today I made an exception. Today I hung the undies out to dry.

(I hung them on the side of the line away from the neighbor's house, where they won't be seen, though!)

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Hailey on the Tomorrowland Speedway ride in 2005

Hailey on the Tomorrowland Speedway ride in 2010