Are You There God? It's Me, Dawn

You know how it feels better to blame other folks...to pass the buck?  I mean, I don't say that that's what I'm doing, but it is.

Like when I break up with a guy, my friends and I get on the phone and talk about how horrible/stupid/immature/dumb/idiotic (you get the picture) that particular guy was to have let a prize (ahem) such as myself go.

But then I have to subscribe to the common denominator theory.  As in...who's the common factor in all of these undesirous endings?

Ummmm...me.

So I was thinking the other night about the guys I've dated over the last five years and they are all strikingly similar...so why exactly was I expecting a different result with each one?

Guy #1: very recently divorced
Guy #2: in his 30's and living on a friend's couch
Guy #3: in his late 20's and living with his parents
Guy #4: very recently divorced
Guy #5: in his late 20's and living with his parents

Wow.  So I just dated the same guy in different skin huh?  And nothing against those that live at home, but I'm very independent and what I have, I fought and scratched for...so it's just not a good fit.  But why would I keep dating that same guy?

I guess it's time to tweak the formula...any suggestions?

I've been cooking like a champ.
The temperature is supposed to dive into the single digits this weekend.
Uh oh.
I knew I was right to worry about my incredible winter expansion.

Elastic waistbands all around!

*mumbling to self* Must keep working out.  Must keep working out. Must keep...

So I've been feeling super domestic lately.

I've been cooking lots of healthy foods...washing and ironing...cleaning and whatnot.

There's good and bad to this.  The bad is that I'm always washing dishes.  Always.  It's like I go to bed and while I'm asleep, the sink grows dirty dishes.

The good is that it reminds me of times with my grandma when I was growing up.  I spent every summer with her when I was a kiddo.  She was all about cooking healthy foods (her maxim was to always have a meat, starch, and veggie with every meal...I still do that to this day) and spent a ton of time washing and ironing.

She and I would hang out in the basement while she spent hours ironing.  I'd usually have my roller skates on and would roll around through the clothes drying on the line.  We'd talk about everything under the sun, she and I.  We had fun together.

I thought I'd hate all the extra domestic duties, but when I think about how it ties to the past and, more specifically, my past...it kinda becomes fun. 

My grandma passed on in 2000, but who knew this extra chore would make me feel so close to her?  I think it's pretty cool.

Do you do anything now that you used to do with a family member?  Is that why you do it?  If you've got kids, what do you do with them that you did when you were a kiddo?

So I figured it was time to get a pet.

I mean, I love animals (and they love me, by the way), I need some company around the house, and I'm always jealous of my friends and their cute doggies.

So I got a fish last Sunday.  I figured that'd be a good start.

It was pretty fun...watching his (her?) cute little fins flapping about.

But then Thanksgiving came.  I went to see the fam for a few days.  And now the fish is dead.

Before you ask:  yes, I fed him...yes, I changed the water...sucker's still dead.

So I should probably wait a while on the doggie huh?

Wonka wonka wonka wonka.

"What's that?", you ask.

Remember the video game Pac Man?  Remember that sound Pac Man made as he weaved his way around the grid?

That's that sound.

Now imagine me on Thanksgiving.  With a table full of yummy food.  And another table full of desserts.

Wonka wonka wonka wonka.

That's the sound I'll make as I tear up those tables.

What are you looking forward to eating most?

Sunday’s church service was a doozy.

One of those where you’re sure if you had to speak, you’d just burst into tears.

Know what I mean?

Worship was off the chain…then the testimonies.  Oh dear Lord.  They didn’t tell us that they were doing this.

A pastor from Uganda who our church helps financially.  One of our pastors who’s preaching at our church less, so that he can preach more all over. 

Then three sets of parents got up to talk about their kids and the children’s poor health.

It was a straight up slobber fest in there by the time all the parents had spoken…they were so gracious, humble, and full of faith.

The last kid was who got me.  He’s got what I got…except I’m fine for the most part and he’s barely hanging on to life.

I call it “this thing”.

I’ve got this thing where part of my white blood cells go missing sometimes.  I just found out about it within the last ten years. 

This kid was three…and wasn’t expected to live much longer than that.

He’s been in hospitals more than he’s been at home…and I just have to watch what I eat and keep clean hands.

It’s an odd dichotomy right?

We’ve got the same thing…why is it killing him and I’m fine?

That’s a tough question to ponder.

Even tougher?  What if it were killing me?  Would I still praise God?

I take my health for granted…what are you taking for granted?

I've been going for runs lately and absolutely loving this weather (in the 30's in the morning!) and the little kids walking to school and the folks out walking their dogs (on the leash, praise God).

Do you ever look with wonder at the beauty of trees...and their colorful leaves?
How about the squirrels (I know) that are fattening themselves up for the winter?
And the crispness of the wind on your face?
Or the comraderie of the "runner wave" with strangers?
And the music that the fallen leaves make as you run over them?

It all reminds me of one of my new favorite songs by Robbie Seay Band:

Go outside
And praise the God who mapped the stars out in the sky
Gather ‘round with those who love and sing
He is our King

When I go for my runs in the morning and everything is so beautiful outside, I think about how amazing God is.

About how He had enough foresight to make our world beautiful.

And I'm thankful.

Well...I'm doing it.

I'm going to talk to my family about Christmas. Last year I agonized over the excess of my family.

I'm the cheap one in the fam...but in reality, I still spend a lot of money. My family's the kind that has a mound o' gifts under the tree at Christmas. That family whose kids don't appreciate what they have...tearing through gifts without so much as a thank you.

So I'm going to tell them that I don't want gifts this year...and that I'm not giving gifts. As simple as that sounds, I chickened out last year, because that statement will likely garner questions of my sanity.

I'm going to tell them that I'd rather they give that money to charity instead. That we're doing alright here in the land of milk and honey...and downright wealthy in terms of the inhabitants of the world.

I'll even tell them that if they want to get me something for tradition, they can get me a book...I love to read.

Anyway, here's the link to the blog from last year: "struggling".

Enjoy!

Conversate?

Not a word.

Just keep in mind that I'm not saying that this actually happened.

You know how I've been trying to save the Earth and all?  Well, one of the easy changes was to not leave lights on when I wasn't in the room.

I live in kind of a big house...but it's an old house.  So logistically, the light situation isn't easy.  Switches are in the most random places.

Anyhoo, in the interest of not killing myself by falling down the stairs, I'd been leaving an upstairs hallway light on...but I've stopped doing that now.

Please remember that I'm certainly not saying that this actually happened...it's more of a heads up.

Because a person as cool and hip and amazing as myself would never walk, in the now pitch black hallway, smack into a door.  Seriously...a person like me?  Wouldn't have walked into said door so hard that it left bruises.

I mean...not that it actually happened.

This is more of an alert for the less coordinated of you out there.

You've been warned.