I wonder why birds’ feet don’t freeze in the winter?
What I mean to say is I want a bowl of cornflakes. I don’t really want a bowl of cornflakes; I want warm chocolate chip cookies, but I don’t have any of those and I’m trying not to eat much of that kind of stuff anyway.
My brain is done. It is connecting random firings of half-awake neurons and processing them without a time stamp.
Sounds like maybe it’s going postal. And it’s doing it to the soundtrack of little bits of songs to which I don’t know all the words. Not that that’s a hindrance in any way. I’ll just keep singing the same dozen words or so over and over again.
And over again.
I am going to eat rice krispies and watch youtube videos about how to pack a suitcase.
I figure I’ll be snoozing in no time flat.
We sat motionless,
side by side
as the sun came up
and the world spun ’round.
I didn’t say a word
and neither did you
and we each pretended
to be alone,
lost in parallel galaxies
that shared little common language.
I wished you would laugh
and you wished I would stop.
We both wished the other
would go find a nice hobby,
or growing heirloom roses from cuttings
or maybe building flying machines
out of leftover lawnmower parts.
“I’m not going anywhere” I announced
to nobody in particular.
“Neither am I”you whispered to the sky.
And it struck me that this could go on for a while.
My to-do list is slowly dwindling.
By the time I leave for Brazil next Thursday, everything that really has to be done will be done. I don’t know if that means the list will be completed; it’s probable that I’ll yet add things to the list, and just as probable that I’ll decide that some things weren’t as important as I first thought.
The to-do list helps me get ready. But it can’t really help me be prepared.
I don’t even know what prepared looks like.
Expectations are a mixed bag on this deal. On one hand I don’t know what to expect, so I’m not really setting myself up to expect anything. But on the other hand…I have very high expectations. I can’t explain to you how it is possible to have no expectations and high expectations at the same time. But somehow, it’s true.
I guess maybe I’m expecting this to be more than I could ask or imagine, since God is a more-than-I-can-ask-or-imagine kind of Person. But that means expecting more than I know how to expect. Which, of course, I can’t do. And yet I can.
Today the iPhone 6 was released. People get in line for these things, expecting a newer version of the iPhone to be a better version of the iPhone, hoping it can wow and amaze them. We can kind of imagine an iPhone 6 before we have it, and maybe even an iPhone 7. But can you imagine an iPhone 24?
You can probably believe an iPhone 24 will one day exist. You expect that it would be pretty awesome and probably do more than you can currently imagine any phone doing. But…you have no realistic grid for that “more”.
I have no realistic grid for this trip.
I just know it’s going to be “more”.
I’m writing this late at night. I know that’s not really any big news; I often write late at night. But tonight I got waylaid by Apple’s iOS 8.0 update to my iPhone.
I was reminded that there is a reason I don’t usually do major updates without major supervision.
In a nutshell, I lost all but one of my photos from 2014. I don’t know why it left me with one random photo of a recipe I found in a magazine at the optometrist’s office back in June. Maybe it’s a sign from God that I really need to make that recipe. The bigger bummer was that I lost all my more recent photos of the GrandSparks, including those from when GS3 was born.
After doing a little research, I think those photos still exist, but they are lost in some iCloud drive that I didn’t know to say I didn’t want. I usually say no to everything because I don’t know what any of it is, but this time I guess I didn’t. And until the update to Yosemite, those photos are in iCloud jail.
Good thing I have them all backed up on my computer and on an external hard drive, huh?
It’s annoying to lose those photos. But even if they don’t reappear when Yosemite is installed (and I can assure you I will NOT be doing that update myself), they’re really more misplaced than lost.
It’s a first world problem.
My knee is a little achy tonight. I went to see the Ortho Guy today and he once again poked me with the little tiny pinchy needle so that I wouldn’t feel it when he poked me with the giant needle and aspirated 20ccs of fluid out of my knee joint and then shot another dose of cortisone in.
I already feel somewhat better because the removal of my personal knee water balloon means some of the stiffness has been relieved. And by the time I go back to work on Saturday my knee will likely be feeling much more normal. It aches now because, you know, needles jammed in places meant to stay all tidy and enclosed.
But pain with a purpose is always far more bearable than pain that just hurts.
As far as I can tell, that is true of every kind of pain. Pain of the body, pain of the soul. It all hurts, it’s all redeemable, but pain with a purpose comes wrapped in hope, and contains a gift that is unwrapped by perseverance.
God never wastes a thing we give Him access to in our lives.
We may judge some things as too trivial, too ugly, too dark, too appalling, too deserved, too unchangeable to be redeemed and used to benefit us and the kingdom of God. But God never judges them that way. He can reveal Himself through anything.
Including ouchy knees and misplaced photos.
The pile of papers at my elbow is starting to get ridiculous.
It’s been growing for about two months. Much of it, although not all, is related to the Brazil trip. I need it where I can find it at a moment’s notice. And so it’s stayed there, and every now and then it grows as I print off something new. Next week I’ll sort it to make sure I have with me whatever documents I’ll need on hand.
Until then, I’ll leave it in its current state of organized chaos. It may be messy, but I have an idea where things are in that pile.
I have more spots like that than I care to admit. They are messy, but I have an idea where to find what I’m looking for. What drives me nuts is when I have no clue where to find what I’m looking for.
Like the box of Brio trains that has to be somewhere in this house. Spark Jr. and the Sparkettes played with them when they were young, and last year I wanted to get them out for the GrandSparks. Except I couldn’t find them. Nearly turned the house upside down looking for them. I still don’t know where they are.
My dresser upstairs has long ago lost its surface space. It’s the catchall spot for the things I’ve acquired that I need to pack for the trip. Like some basic first aid and medicines like Pepto, melatonin, and Airborne. A neck pillow so I have a fighting chance of sleeping on the plane (I never do on international flights and I hope to change that this time.). The info about my vaccinations. Travel-sized toiletries. A couple of boxes of Clif bars.
For all I know there may be small animals living amongst the piles on top of my dresser. Other than cats, that is.
And it’s all so strange to think that in a week I’m going to tidy up these piles of papers and paraphernalia and pack it all where it needs to go…and then those spaces will be empty.
That’s a strange thought.
I don’t think I’m ready to really think about it yet.
The universe is full of options, and every day you get to decide which ones you’ll choose.
Raisin bran or Capn’ Crunch? Television or a book? Ranch or blue cheese? Music or quiet? Under or over?
Occasionally I hear people say “I didn’t have a choice.”
But really, that’s not true. You always have a choice.
Sometimes the choices stink, however.
After all, the lesser of two evils is still evil.
Some options are unpalatable, and so we say we don’t have a choice. What we really mean is that only one option is tenable in our eyes.
And sometimes only one option’s consequences are acceptable to us, and so we say we have no choice. What we really mean is that we aren’t willing to pay the price of choosing any other option.
Every day we get to choose to live. We get to choose joy. We get to choose generosity. We get to choose gratitude. We get to choose faith. We get to choose to forgive. We get to choose to love.
We get to choose. And in choosing, we take charge of our internal landscape.
Choosing is a privilege and a responsibility. Our choices reflect what we value and honor.
And just in case you were wondering…
Refusing to make a choice is a choice, too.
You know one of the things I like most about God? He never sits in heaven wringing His hands, afraid to do things because someone might interpret them the wrong way, or might think poorly of Him….even though He’s absolutely free to do those things.
He is who He is, and makes no apologies for it even when others become offended by Him. He is fully Himself, with no reservations.
He is really, truly free. He is the most free person I know.
I want to be like that. I know it’s possible, because Jesus modeled this for us perfectly.
He was fully Himself with others. He didn’t bow to their demands and expectations, even when His life depended on it. His heart and mind were set on the goal of pleasing His Father, and He would not be swayed from it.
Even if it offended others.
Even if it disappointed others.
Even if it might get Him killed.
The yes in His heart towards His Father was too strong to entertain saying yes to anything that competed.
I want the yes in my heart to be that strong.