I'm Not Always Nice: Friday Confessional

I know this may be shocking *cough, cough* but I'm not always nice. I often say things that I shouldn't say. I talk about people that I have no business talking about. I am weird enough to think that I know where someone is coming from and where they should go.

What? Did I just say that?

Ask anyone I work with. I don't always think before opening my mouth and blurting out something that was better left unsaid. Sometimes this is between me and one person...and sometimes it's between me and a group. And then I die a little on the inside because I can't believe I've said whatever came out of my mouth. And I wonder why I didn't leave those words inside my head where no one could hear them.

I get so worked up over being heard or feeling validated or just having the darn last word that I can't seem to help myself. It is not an attractive quality. I think I'm slowly changing this but it is challenging and feels like trying to nail jello to a tree most times. Think about that.

Keeping it real with Friday Confessional.

My Person

I miss my person. She's totally too far away. She has a sweetie now that I've never met. I have a sweetie that she's never met. That's really weird and the world is no longer rotating correctly. My person understands what I do because she loves ears too. I can call her and rattle off a string of acronyms with a couple adjectives thrown in and she knows what kind of day I had. She's who I would call to help me move a body if I were so inclined to murder someone. Which I'm not. Even if I am Italian. She is too though, so it's not an unreasonable request.

She's smart. She's funny. She keeps me on the straight and narrow when I start to board a crazy train of thought. I can be completely transparent with her and never feel judged. She is giving and loving. She has a heart for animals - the mere thought of an animal in pain or who doesn't know love upsets her. She likes me, however, despite my hunting family. My person is fiercely loyal. If I were the bar fighting kind of girl, I'd want her next to me holding a pool cue. Is that how you have a bar fight? Forgive me, DH and I just watched Roadhouse this past weekend and my ideas may be a bit skewed.

We went to a ridiculously great hockey game together and screamed until we couldn't talk. We spent weeks hanging out at our places in Friendship, Shadyside, Squirrel Hill and Bloomfield drinking gin and tonics and talking waiters into bringing her peanut butter. She was with me both times when I was crapped upon by birds and once when I was attacked by a beach umbrella while trying to change clothes in Maine. We watched a Super Bowl that Da Burgh won while I explained some football basics and our city erupted around us. She was the keeper of the aspirin and the pretzels. She adores chocolate and peanut butter together. If you try to eat her mashed potatoes she may injure you. I once threatened to stab her with my fork if she spoke one more time during Grey's Anatomy. She swears that we watched How Green is My Valley but I'm convinced 4 years later that it's a conspiracy because I have no memory of any of it.

We sweated and crammed and moaned and laughed through 4 years of classes and clinic. We considered killing each other the semester we were living together, had all of our classes together and were in clinic together.  We would IM each other from our bedrooms to meet in the kitchen and make some mac and cheese. I had the honor of throwing her first surprise party ever...and we almost ran out of tequila before she got there thanks to a friend's ridiculous margartita recipe.

She's who I call when I have good news and when I have bad news. She's seen me at my best and my worst. We haven't seen each other in over a year and it'll be another 4 months before we get to see one another again. She is amazing, wicked smart, beautiful, tenderhearted and I would be lost without her.

My person, I love you all the houses on the street plus a million ABRs.

Let Tomorrow Take Care of Itself...or something like that

Sundays are some of my favorite days. Sundays include sleeping a little later, lazy afternoons, lunch sitting on patios while enjoying the fall breeze, updating this here blog, catching up on TV that I missed through the week, spending time with DH, and last but not least, going to church.

This morning I watched service from my bed - this is technology, people. Unfortunately for me, technology petered out on my this morning and I missed the last part of service. But what I saw of service was Amazing. Amazing. It might not have been if that had been you watching it. For me, it was just what I needed.

I've been mulling over last week's sermon on holding loosely to money and being generous with what He has given us. I've always been a giver but not always in ways I should be. I like to shower the people I love with things, sometimes big and sometimes small. Since I moved here a couple years ago I haven't been able to do that as much. Finishing grad school was one of the biggest accomplishments of my short life, but it came with a large financial price. It's not insurmountable, but it's daunting for sure.

I was humbled enough in my journey to take advantage of Crown Financial classes at 121 Community Church this past spring. It's good stuff, people. To someone who doesn't come from my spiritual background, my debt may look like one more part of life or it may look like the worst position to ever be in. But I know it for what it is. It could cripple me except that I know there is freedom from this if I do what is asked of me.

Despite all of this, God has blessed me in ways, yes financial ways, that allow me to give to others where it is needed. That would be a huge difference between what I used to do with money and what I didn't do with money. So what's the big deal? Hoarding is just as bad as being in debt or giving recklessly. He has blessed me and I don't necessary want to give it away.

Yep, I'm resisting. I had found my security in my money in the bank. I know better - it's not my money, it's His. And when I let money take the place of God as my source of security the only thing that happens is that worry and anxiety take over. Which brings us back to today's sermon about anxiety and worry. These can be related to anything but for me when I let the money run the show anxiety starts it's song and dance. It's a seductive dirty dance.

Luckily I'm getting better at turning away and focusing on what He's asked me to do.

I Feel Like Joe Banks: Friday Confessional

Do any of you know who Joe Banks is? Because I feel like him this week. Do any of you ever get exhausted by work? I love my job. But it is mentally and physically exhausting being parents gateway to understanding hearing, hearing loss and therapy. Especially when sometimes you wonder if anything is getting through.

This week has been that type of week. Today will be back to back craziness. I'm sure I'll have some wonderful patients and some that make me work extra hard.

Starbucks doesn't make coffee strong enough for this.

Link in, blogging friends!

Humble Pie

Something I often forget to be: humble. Something I am often without thinking about it: prideful.

It's so easy to do, build ourselves up. Think that what we do is more important that someone else's goals or achievements. "I can do that better. I can test better, write up results faster, find better deals, run faster, save more money" Pride sneaks up on us. It grows and grows until it's all around us and we didn't even see it's gestation.

Now that's not to say that pride in all aspects is a bad characteristic or trait or value. Am I proud of my doctorate degree? You bet. Am I proud that I'm fiscally sound compared to where I was when I moved here? Oh yeah. Am I proud when I make a tough decision that may not benefit me and there is an easier less moral alternative present? Yup.

Am I proud when I finish a work-out and compare myself to someone else who didn't work out or not as long? Yeah. Am I proud when I can run faster than a friend? Sigh....yes. Am I proud when I make a decision that should be second nature as a Christian but I struggle through it anyway? Ok, ok, I get it.

Where does it end? In my case it ended this afternoon, once again.

When I started running almost two years ago I could only run a minute or two at a time before stopping to breath. As my running times and distances increased I went back and forth between being utterly amazed and really proud of myself. I started to see the similarities and metaphors present in scripture regarding running and what a race it is to be a Christian. One of my favorite versus is Hebrews 12:1-3:

1 Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.(New American Standard)

I felt like I had a physical action that personified my walk in faith. Thinking about this verse and the way it applied to me would often help me through a run. But even with this background, pride still has a way of sneaking up on me.

This afternoon my running partner and I unexpectedly attempted an 8 mile run. In 95 degree heat. With rising humidity. And an infinitesimal amount of cloud cover. And I failed in a big way. Barney might even say it was legendary, but in a horrific way. I had been feeling really smug about how well we had been running. Even feeling like I was a better runner than other people I know because I was running a better mile time than they did. 

See where I went wrong? I could have been proud that I was running a faster mile than I have in the past. I should not have been proud that I was running faster than someone else. Because this better runner only ran about a mile and a half out of six this afternoon. God poured lead into my legs and mud into my lungs. I couldn't have kept going if there was a bear chasing me. My absolute fear of bears in my dreams and that long sordid past is for another post.

The point is that my unjustified pride was ballooning out of control and needed to be blown up. God's good like that, always knowing what I need. He's given me many things that I can and should be proud of and He doesn't hesitate to humble me when I need it. He's good like that. 

I'm Homesick: Friday Confessional

This time of year is my favorite time. I love the shift from hot sticky melting days to cool breezes, golden sun filtered through changing leaves and scarves being a serious every day must have.

This is also the time of year that I miss home the most. It's funny saying I miss home because here in the Deep South is home. But Yankeeland is also home.

And this time of year makes my heart hurt for a porch swing, a Yuengling and my dad puttering in the garage. I need to stand in a yard on the edge of a wood and smell how it's changing by the second, preparing for snow and sleep.

For brief seconds of time I feel suspended, like I can't draw enough breath to keep going without the promise of giggling on the couch with my mom, hugging my godbabies and hearing about their day and laying eyes on my grandparents. Without being wrapped in a blanket, inhaling woodsmoke and listening to a high school band while the football announcer strains to be heard above them.

I have a wonderful life here. I love my job. DH is the best man I have ever had the privilege of dating. I feel selfish for being homesick when my everyday is kind of freakin' extraordinary. But I'm still homesick, all the same.







On a side note, all you blogging friends, link up for Friday Confessional! Check out Kristen's blog, A Little Something For Me for the details.

Why I Love Wednesday

Wednesdays are my favorite day - it's my day off every week! And I can tell you from experience that Wal-Mart on a Wednesday morning at 6:45 is as quiet as it's gonna get. I love being able to take my time and not be elbow to elbow with weekend shoppers.

Ashley and sweet Savannah came over to hang out for a bit after my run. Savannah is such a big girl now and so sweet! She loved playing with Roomie's Pup. And the Pup loved her. It's so nice to catch up with a good friend! Ashley was encouraging me to consider taking my sugar cookie skills into the business arena. Thoughts, anyone? I know I've asked this in the past, but I think about it more and more. The fact I had a dream that I was on Top Chef Just Desserts last week isn't helping things.

To help woo Fall along I pulled out the crock pot this morning and made some Fiesta Chicken and am working on a shredded pork made with rootbeer - thanks KW for the recipes! The chicken was so good made this way - usually when I try to make a shredded anything the meat is dry and tough - it was so juicy and tender! The best part of the recipe is that you can really make it however you like it. All the basic recipe includes is chicken breasts, a can of cream of chicken soup, a can each of black beans and corn drained, a cup of salsa and 2 tbsp of taco seasoning. You could totally start with chicken and soup as the base and put whatever floats your boat in there. I stuck it on high for 4 hours and it was amazing!  It makes a lot too, so come Friday night DH can choose whether he feels like some slightly spicy chicken or sweet and tangy BBQ. I like to have options for him! If you haven't checked out Crock Pot Girls, go browse their site for a while. The recipes are a little overwhelming since they all sound amazing, but I'll be trying them slowly over the next months.

Laundry is done and the dishes are clean. Maybe I'll take a nap....Man, I love Wednesdays.