Rambo's Rampages...

I faced my worst nightmare the other day, guys. The make-up aisle. It is the closest thing to hell that my mind can conjure up currently. I don't know how many of you get paralyzed by excessive choices, but I DO. When I walk into a restaurant for a nice dinner out and they hand me a menu that's really 4 volumes of a freaking World Book Encyclopedia put into one, I go blank. Instant overload. I'm all I'm not quite sure how to cure that or if it's even possible. All I know is that usually I end up eating whatever Ben has ordered for me.  But, this time, in the make-up section I was alone. ALONE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. Did you see the picture???? And that's just ONE of the aisles! Multiple aisles, guys. Multiple. Aisles. Encyclopedia-kind-of-full aisles to choose from.  *hides head in shame* It took me 45 minutes to pick out a foundation. And all the while I'm coaching myself, "Okay, you can do this. Just breathe. One thing at a time

It's Friday night. We've just returned home from taking the kids to the 4-H fair. A trip I was especially able to enjoy because I had the confirmed knowledge that Theodore's nurse would finally be returning to work tonight after 2 1/2 long weeks of vacation. Two and a half weeks of 24/7 Theodore care for me; long nights on the not so comfortable couch, long days because of the long nights. But tonight was THE night.  My bed, my glorious bed awaited.  And it WAS oh so glorious. It's Saturday morning. I slept better than I had in, well, 17 days. I go to greet our sorely missed nurse, wanting to ask about her vacation home, but before I can say a word, I hear, in her Tobagonian accent, "I tink you have dose fly eggs all over your kit'en floor." I did. But at least I had slept in my own bed. It's 10:30 am on Saturday morning. The kitchen has been thoroughly scrubbed, washed, vacuumed, cleared out, disinfected, lit and burnt to a crisp. Theodore

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. - Matthew 5:6 O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. Thus I have seen you in the sanctuary beholding your power and glory. My soul will be satisfied .... Psalm 63:1-2, 5 Sometimes I feel like I'm doing it all wrong. All of it. No matter how hard I work towards accomplishing something, it inevitably falls short in one way or another. I have been weighed. I have been measured. And I have been found wanting. Over and over again. Whether it's parenting or wife-ing (????) or teaching or organizing - you name it, I claim it. And even if all goes smoothly I'm left with a feeling of frustration or emptiness, wondering why I even put my hand to it in the first place. Did it really matter? I mean.. let's be honest. Did it REALLY matter?  Because if I were doing it

"We want our work to be known and our impact to be memorialized. And it will be, but by God alone. No human can give us accolades that will satisfy the  deepest longings of our hearts. We search vainly from others for the acclaim that only God can give." - Sara Hagerty, "Unseen" I don't know about you, but the older I get the more my life seems to be filled by disappointment after disappointment, one unsuccessful venture after another, failure followed by failure. And up until about 5 years ago I could have listed you a MYRIAD of things that qualified as my biggest fears, I could guarantee you that unsuccess was not one of them.  But now it is. Top of the list, number one for x weeks in a row.  Unsuccess. Under appreciated. Unseen. I'm still surprised by this. By the fact that it is. Surprised at how deeply and coldly it runs through me; how it has a hold.  It's not because I'm a mom (stay-at-home) or because