Tapestry blog

Ok, so now I'm a regular (every other week) on the Tapestry blog that's mentioned below. I'll still try to keep this one up, but let's be honest, I don't do a good job at that. Maybe one day I'll change. Maybe. One day. Come on. It's a possiblity.

tapestry blog

If you're looking for me, I've blogged on a different page this week. It's a Christian women's blog called Tapestry and has some pretty cool stuff.

a Christmas gift

In light of the season of giving, I offer you just one picture (yes, the octopus is carved from the book) from this wonderful website. It's amazing what a book can do to you (and I do love books), but it's more amazing what these people can do to books. Enjoy!

dreaming answers to questions unknown

So, I'm one of those who can't watch anything or read anything without being convinced that it might happen to me. We watch some movie where the husband turns out to be some serial killer and the wife had no idea, and I'm questioning my husband on his whereabouts last night. Yeah sure, he's going to kung fu, but can I call and make sure he showed up?

Or I'm reading a book right now about a married woman who falls in love with another man about 20 years into her marriage. Suddenly, I'm wondering if my husband and I will fall into a rut where it's just all familiar and habitual, and then one of us fall in love with someone else.
"How can we keep this from happening?" I cry out. My husband just smiles knowing that next I'll be sure that one day we will have to leave this planet due to the massive amount of pollution and leave a little robot here to clean it up. I like to look at all this entering into things as amazing empathy, not crazy. Others may disagree.

A few nights ago, I had a dream. Inspired by both this wondering how our love (and we are in love now which makes the possible loss more tragic) will survive and my wanderings in trying to figure out what to do with my life (you know, "it'd be great if someone would just hand me the plan" type of thoughts), I dreamt something that helped me see what I already knew. Life is a journey and it's work, but it's worth it because the alternative is just not good. You'll see.

The Dream
People start talking about how we are going to have to leave Earth. It's going to blow up, be swept by a tidal wave, or something. The reason for leaving is fuzzy, but you can pick anyone of those Armageddon type movies to fill it in.

We all pile into spaceships, and they get us onto another planet (and, no, I don't even really watch Sci-fi). In the midst of all these people, I lose my husband but have two friends with me. I stick close to them.

We are in a building with conveyor belts and escalators zooming everywhere. The first thing the booming voice tells us to do is to step onto one of the numbers that is gliding past on one of those belts. The numbers are all out of order, and as we step on a number, we are popped back off. The voice explains that if the number is already taken we must try again. My friends and I try again. Two more times and we all have numbers. I am 257.

Standing on those numbers, the belt zooms us up to another room. The voice now says we must choose our job. At random, we have to step on any one of the many spots on the floor. My friends and I all put our feet on the same spot with no idea what will happen. We are informed we are now Runners. I don't like to run.

We zoom up to another room and have to get new shoes. Running shoes. I'm not into running. They take my running shoes off of me (the ones I own and never run in). I like those shoes, but they say they'll give me better ones. The give me a new pair, but they're ugly. They say mine will go somewhere else. I guess someone who doesn't need to run will get my beat-up pair. I hate to run.

I am then turned loose on my assignment. Walking through a room, I see my husband. I yell his name. He says, "My name is 734." I tell him that he's my husband.

"I'm so glad to see you," I say. "I missed you so much."

"No, I don't have a wife. They are going to give me one later though," he responds. "I am a doctor. You are not on my list, 257. I must go to my patients."

Whoa. I guess I missed the brainwashing room, but he didn't. I let him walk away from me.

A day or two later, I am in my truck making deliveries (I guess Runners don't always run, hallelujah), and I see my husband on the side of the road. He is laying in the ditch, and he has cuts all over him. In that way you know in a dream, I know his new "wife" did this to him. I go over to him and help him.

The booming voice tells me that I must leave him there. "No, he's my husband and he needs help," I tell that stupid voice.

"This is in the plan for him. You must leave him," the voice says.

"Leave him to die?" I ask. "No, he's my husband."

"He's not your husband, 257."

"Yes, he is. We were married on earth, before God, and what God has put together, no man can tear apart."

I grab my husband, and we flee back to earth. Because I know, in that way you know in dreams, that this has all been a lie. There was no reason to leave earth, my husband and I really are one, and I can't just arbitrarily be told what to do with my life. Besides, I hate to run.

solomon summaries

I have a friend who has started Solomon Summaries. What is it? Well, to quote them, "Solomon Summaries is like CliffNotes for Christian books." They look at new and classic Christian literature and then send you an 8-10 page summary. You can glean the wisdom of centuries of Christian work within minutes. You can see which ones you really want to delve into and which ones might not be your cup of tea. Either way, you'll be able to familiarize yourself with the Christian terrain out there from classics to contemporary thinkers. You know it's better than being so familiar with the nightly TV schedule!

The great thing is that during their Beta launch period, you can join for free. I'm a bit behind in writing about this and the free trial only lasts through December 1, but it's still worth it to give it a little looksey.

So, here's the website. Enjoy getting a peek at what's out there.

facing pony fear

On Sunday's, I help out in the preschool area at my church. We have this large group teaching time when the kids come out and hear a Bible story in a theatrical format. The main star of this time is Bible Story Bob—a cowboy who loves to tell those little youngsters about God. His sidekick is a horse named Big Puddin'. Now this horse is usually inhabited by a fifth grader, and it is a rather impressive costume. A little too impressive at times. Because to some children, there is nothing natural about a four to five foot tall horse that stands on two legs and looks like a stuffed animal come to life. That's just plain spooky to a few.

A new kid came this Sunday, and he lost it over the horse. I took him around the side where he couldn't see that darn horse, but he was convinced we needed to flee the area, perhaps the church or even the state (my interpretation of the desperation he was exhibiting). I tried talking him down as he pulled on my hand and kept saying, "Come on. We need to go. Let's find my mommy." I told him that we'd just stay there, and then go back to class when the horse was gone. I told him that his mommy was in her class too, and it'd be better if she could stay. He wasn't crying. Just a bit panicked. So, I figured the situation would ease in time.

That's when he started saying something new: "We don't need to be afraid of ponies." Ah, self-talk from a five-year-old. I didn't say the phrase first, so it must be something he's heard at home. I don't know if he's often scared of ponies, or just often plain scared, but the fact that he was talking himself down was, well, good and strange.

So, I told him that what he was saying was true. That Big Puddin' was a nice pony, and we didn't have to be afraid of him. He kept repeating those phrases for the next five minutes as we waited it out.

I then suggested that he close his eyes as we walked past the horse to line up with his class to go back. He let me cover his eyes, but just as we got in sight of that pesky, furry thing, he pulled my hand away. He held on tighter to me but looked at the horse, which was doling out hugs and high fives to his fans. "We don't have to be afraid of ponies," the kid said. He began to shake a little while facing his fear but kept up his mantra.

I handed him off to his teacher, and he went on his way. I went on mine. But today, as I face the fact that I've been unemployed for a few months now and no closer to getting a job, that I've sent out some writing and not heard back (except for one that has decided to cease publication--hopefully not after reading the quality of submissions they were getting), and that the jobs I wanted most are the ones that I get turned down for (for random reasons like someone suddenly decided to come back so they're going to hire within and no longer have an opening), I must remember that "we don't have to be afraid of ponies"—or rejection, or following our dreams, or sitting still while we wait to figure out what those dreams even are. If a five year old can look a fearsome, cuddly costumed horse in the face, then so can I.

loser?

So, I lost the contest and didn't get the job. And I'll confess, I'm having trouble distinguishing between losing and being a loser. For all of us that have a little trouble with that kind of stuff, I've decided to write out five reasons that I'm not a loser:

1) My mom still loves me. Oh, wait...does that count? Actually, it doesn't, does it? I think it actually might be a step in the wrong direction. Not that you loving me isn't great, Mom, but you know, you kind of have to love me.

Ok. Do-over.

1) I still got over 6k votes. Now, I am aware that some of those votes could possibly be from one person voting multiple times. But I know that one person didn't vote 6000 times (not even my momma loves me that much). So, there were a few thousand out there that who were behind me.

2) I still like to write. They may not have hired me to write, but I can still do it on my own. They can't take that away. They can take everything else, but they can't take that.

3) I still like to be overdramatic. See #2.

4) I still crack myself up. And yes, I'm ok if I'm the only one smiling at me and my wittiness. Besides, I'm pretty sure at least a few of you think I'm funny too (or at least my mom does).

5) Losing doesn't actually equal loser. Yeah, that's a hard one in this society, but I'm learning slowly that who I am is more important that what I have accomplished. We can define ourselves by our roles (and right now I have little to define me when it comes to employment), but all of that has little to do with who Jamie, or Laura, or Kim, or Judy (that's my momma) really is. I've been working on being myself lately, and I'm starting to see that I can't be me until I break away from what people expect (or more often, what I think they expect) and just make a fool of myself being me. So, if I think that losing equals being a loser, then I have a definition problem. Because I simply am not a loser. No one is (well, maybe no one except for that guy that really is only loved by his mom--ok, not even him).

So fair thee well, and don't listen to the lies when they try to get you down. Call your mom instead (unless she's one of those guilt tripping crazy moms), then you should call someone you know will give you a little pick-me-up. Or dance around the living room like a crazy person to your favorite song. Either one usually works for me.