We are not mere mortals.

I read this by C. S. Lewis and, like a lot of his writings, it empowered and inspired me.

"It is a serious thing," says Lewis, "to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare.

(Here's the best part.)

All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no 'ordinary' people. You have never talked to a mere mortal."

It's true.

We move one another to life or death with our words and the way we treat one another.

We are so much more than ordinary people and should treat one another as such.

This is hard to do when I need God's help just to show me how to love Him, much less everyone else.

How many opportunities have I missed or even destroyed?

How many times have I failed my Lord in this area?

In rejecting others, even ignoring others, I've rejected and ignored Him.

Matthew 25:45
⁴⁵"He will answer them, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me—you failed to do it to me.'

No one is ordinary ... not even close.

"Explain to me ... this conspiracy against me."

Quoted from one of my favorite bands, Paramore. I couldn't have said it better.

Exhibit A:
Second edition of unsubscribed-to "American Baby" magazine, Sneak Peek Ultrasound Company, Enfamil advertisement and coupons, Gymboree coupons.
Why, oh why, must you and I continue to tangle over this issue? You creepy, evil "coincidence," you, I will beat you down.

I know I'm too old and this is no longer a possibility. Now, leave me be.

Getting Baby advertisements and magazines in the mail + Being a (ahem) mature woman = Ridiculousness

Exhibit B:

Remember? 5K in two weeks?

Rain + Running = Having to do one of Jillian's stupid DVDs & nearly having a heart attack when I run that 5K

Exhibit C:
Sale on Edy's Slow-Churned French Silk Ice Cream ... perfect timing.

Rain - Running + Ice Cream = Failure ... Happy Failure

Exhibit D:
Since I started watching this series about a month ago (yes, five seasons in one month), my life has come to a stand-still. I have decided it's either demonic or deeply spiritual. I am totally addicted. And, now the series is over this season. Ugh. What will fill this void? "24," you have big shoes to fill.

LOST + Raining + No running + Edy's French Silk ice cream = Pure Awesomeness

Add in the sushi my husband brought me this afternoon = Perfection

Procrastination

I am not a procrastinator.

Not at all.

When I am given a task, I complete it as quickly as I can so that I have one less thing to think about. This brain can only hold so much information. I'm a realist and know what I can handle.

That's why it makes it so hard for me to understand those who are procrastinators.

Why would anyone wait until the very last second to complete something they've known about for weeks or even months?

My mind just can't comprehend it.

Really, I think it boils down to we only procrastinate with those things we have no desire to do, no passion for.

Even me, the non-procrastinator.

For example, this non-procrastinator ... me ... is running a 5K in two weeks and is completely unprepared. Running + Me = No passion. However, if I was preparing for a eat-a-thon, I would be totally ready.

There are always things in our lives that we have no passion for that we still have to do, like laundry and grocery shopping, which are my typical Monday duties. Boo. I hate them. But, my family must have clean underwear and milk or I am a bad mother and wife. I must say, I do have a passion for my family. Otherwise, if I were living alone, I would just eat Stacy's cinnamon and sugar pita chips with water. Not much grocery shopping involved there.

There's a little procrastinator in all of us. How true is this video! Watch it. It's only a little over a minute. I'm sure you can wait a little longer to do what you were going to do.

I will get my stuff done today ... after about six LOST episodes.

Not sure about her logic

We had a late night last night.

K Belle was the first to claim the shower.

As La Petite Belle waited, she complained about having to take a shower, saying it was too late.

I tried to reason with her and told her that if she didn't take a shower before bed, she would have to wake up early and shower before school.

She came up with this solution:
"How 'bout I take 4 showers tomorrow night?"

I had to explain to her that it doesn't work like that.

I want to be hated.

Blessed are you when men hate you,
when they exclude you and insult you
and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man.
Luke 6:22

After reading this passage, I had these questions:

Do men hate me?

Have I had anyone hate me because of my stance for Christ?

Has my stance for Christ been bold enough to make someone hate me?

Or am I too concerned with being politically correct or not offending anyone?

Too concerned with making others uncomfortable?

The Message says it this way,
"Count yourself blessed every time someone cuts you down or throws you out, every time someone smears or blackens your name to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and that that person is uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—skip like a lamb, if you like!—for even though they don't like it, I do . . . and all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company; my preachers and witnesses have always been treated like this."

I am considered "blessed" when others hate me or cut me down because of my faith.

God likes it. All heaven applauds.

This is disheartening to me because I don't know if I can say anyone has ever hated me for my faith in Christ.

Oh, I've had people hate me. Trust me. But, not hate me for what I should be hated for.

I should be hated for Him, not for who I am.

Are you hated?

I was never fond of bow-heads until now.

I told this precious baby's daddy, Beau, to make sure he carried her under an umbrella as to not get her hair wet. He gave me that look.

Spoiled much?

Not the good stuff

Two sets of good china sit in my china cabinet. So pretty to look at; so scary to use.

Grandma's china doesn't get used much ... holidays mostly.

Beau and I have only used our fancy, discontinued Lenox china that we registered for over 15 years ago two times. Still trying to complete the entire set, seeing as a cup and saucer set is $65.

But, it sure is pretty ...

I often think if I don't start using this good stuff, I never will.

I had the perfect opportunity last Friday night.

Beau and I hosted one of four fancy dinner parties at our house. It's all part of a small group, titled "Restaurant Wars," where we "compete" against three other couples for the title of "Biggest Glutton for Punishment" "Best Restaurant." We are each required to cook a four-course gourmet meal and then the guests judge us.

I am a pretty competitive person, however, I would like to just get through this experience without having a nervous breakdown or accidentally piercing my husband with a steak knife.

I'm not sure I realized what I was signing up for when I agreed to do this.

Yeah, I can cook. I'm a pretty good cook. I'm an excellent cook for 4-6 people, but for 12-14, I turn into Gordon Ramsay (minus the expletives).
I kinda freak out. Just a little.

I freak out especially when I realize 45 minutes before the guests are supposed to arrive that I don't have enough potatoes and have already started to boil the ones I did have.

I nearly killed myself driving to Winn Dixie in a monsoon to pick up a bag for just four more potatoes. Of course, I got behind every grandma who could barely drive on a sunny day, much less in a thunderstorm.

Freaking out causes me to make rash decisions like deciding to put a little milk in my mashed potatoes, when the recipe doesn't call for milk. Then, they're runny.

I asked Beau what I should do. He said, "Add more potatoes." No, duh. No time for that. They thickened up a bit before I had to serve them, but weren't the best they could be.

Another rash decision was adding gravy thickener to my madeira sauce to hurry up the thickening process. Sauce got clumpy. I ladled out all the little clumps. Stupid.

Cooking in a small kitchen with four bodies (two waiters) also can be stressful. We were often in each others' way. So much so, that Beau (the one who said we shouldn't use Grandma's china because someone might break or chip a piece) was the one that broke the top to the sugar bowl. Let's not talk about it.

I took no pictures until the end due to the freaking out part and pictures were the last thing on my mind.

All the guests seemed to enjoy themselves and complimented the chefs on their dishes. There are some things to tweak for next time, but all in all, it was a good night.

This was the end result.

This was officially the dirtiest my kitchen has ever been. I ran the dishwasher four times and still had left-over dishes in the sink the next day.

And, I may need to rethink using the good stuff ... at least for Beau's sake.

Every Little Girl's Dream

What I learned from this story:

1. La Petite Belle needs to work on her spelling. I did inform her that "asome" is totally different than "awesome."

2. No mention of a prince - great for a nine-year-old. But she is "rich."

3. She once again amazes me with her security. No self-esteem issues here.

4. The fact that she still refers to herself as a princess is precious. She's still quite innocent and I love that.

Now, you're just messin' with me.

As I get older and realize my days of, as Prissie says, "birthin' babies" are over, I often rethink decisions that were made in the past to make this final. Final. Forever. No more babies.

This was a joint decision between Beau and me a long time ago after La Petite Belle came along.

It was logical. It was practical. It was the right decision.

I still think so.

But, even though I do think it was the right decision, I still get these feelings that come and go. You know the ones ... where you want another baby ... REALLY want another baby.

You even talk to your husband about adopting, but realize it's not a possibility.

Now, don't start feeling sorry for me. I'm OK ... really I am.

But, it doesn't make it any better when someone gets me a subscription to this magazine.

Yep ... got the welcome issue in the mail this week.

I think I know who the culprit is, but she denies it, even though I think she's just paying me back for getting her a subscription to "More" magazine ... the magazine for women, ages 40+. Hey, she's over 40. That makes the magazine for her, right? (shhh ... she's in denial and constantly says "you know what they say about payback, don't you?" ... sounds suspicious to me)

Whoever it was, thanks for nothing.

Don't think I'm not looking forward to a lot more alone time with Beau.

'Cause I am. I really am.

All I ever needed to know ...

I learned from the remains of two Dove chocolates.

Yeah, I ate some. So what. It was dark chocolate anyway so it doesn't count. It's healthy, you know.

I realize you can't read what it says, so here goes.

Prepare yourself for great insight and wisdom.

Dove chocolate #1 - "Don't look back, you've already been there."

Think about that one for a while. Pretty good, huh?

Dove chocolate #2 - "A pessimist is really an optimist with experience."

Ain't that the truth.

Told ya'.

With Dove, it's chocolatey goodness and a nugget of wisdom all in one.

Thanks, Dove.

You inspire me to eat more chocolate.