My Pastor Husband has a very hard time parting with books. He also has a hard time saying no, when people offer him their old books. Which means I found some interesting ones while helping to empty shelves.
Yep, Tramp for the Lord. I showed it to Ben and it went something like this:
Ben: it's not what it sounds like. It means going door-to-door...
Me: I bet it does...*wink*
Life in the Parsonage, people. It's never dull.
And this is about 1/4 of the pile(s) of books lieing or laying (who can remember) around the parsonage.
The great thing about blogging is the recording of insignificantly-significant events. Like: We are finally getting around to re-painting Ben's office/study (which is just off our living room in the parsonage) and I thought it had to be at least 7 years that I've lived with our awful choice of green. Side note: Yes, that was a super run-on sentence, but I prefer my blogging, to sound like me. I speak in run-on sentences. I couldn't really remember how long its been the same color as a John Deere tractor, so I typed it into my blog search box and BAM up pops my post about painting the office green. Turns out, it's been 6 years. It took us 6 years to work up the courage to 1 - pick another color 2 - remove all the books and book shelves. The primer and brushes are bought, and I pick up the paint tomorrow. So by Monday I should have lovely light gray walls to show you. *Exciting*
I've been thinking about time. And how bad I am at it. I am not the best manager of time. I'm just not. Every night I go to bed thinking, "big fat fail today, but TOMORROW, tomorrow I will use my time better!" And then I don't. I procrastinate and procrastinate and then hurry-like-crazy. Even when I am functioning is a sort-of-not-waste-of-time manner, I feel like I'm wasting time. To plod along like I believe normal people do, you know: Time Managers, seems totally do-able. But then it's not. In reality, although I do waste a lot of time, I know that much of what I do only feels like time wasted, and IS REALLY NOT TIME WASTED. *yelling* Just kidding. Not yelling. I thoroughly enjoy planning ways to manage my time well. I've got printable schedules and itemized to-do lists, all in pretty colors. In case pretty colors will help me with my time problems. Umm, they do not. But anyways. It's part of who I am. Maybe God will redeem it. Maybe it's who I will always be. Either way, now it's written down so that when I am old and can't remember my husband, he will read me my blog and remind me who I am. Or was. And then we will die when we are old, at the very same moment. They should really make a movie like that... Just kidding.
This morning my husband asked me what I blogged yesterday. And then I had to slap my forehead with my hand because I totally forgot about it yesterday. My bad. It was bound to happen. I read some interesting stuff on the internet today. Some made me laugh, some made me sad. Some made me think that there is scary junk out there. Ebola. Lot's of it made me think that people are pretty...dumb. Or blind. Or both. I think I will not be reading things on the internet for a few days. And then I write nonsense on the internet. Irony is the spice of life. I'm just gonna sign off now, and still count this as a post. *high-five*
Last night as I was driving (way past my elderly bed-time) to pick up my 7th grader from a "dance" I heard this song on the radio.
And suddenly, I was 13 years old. Sort of. I remember 7th grade dances. I can't remember who I danced with though, and that's sort of bugging me. Hello Alzheimers. I do remember this was one of my FAVORITE songs. It makes me laugh now, because I can't quite remember how my 13-year-old-self interpreted those lyrics. Bah. I'm almost positive I never caught this particular video on MTV, because it probably would have ruined the whole song for me. Maybe. Or I would have thought they were awesome. Who can remember?!? It kinda ruins it now. Dang it. Whenever I drive Noah and his friend home from the dance, I like to ask 20 questions. I'm sure they love it. Their vague answers are a sure sign. It's weird that having a 7th grader makes me feel like a 7th grader...and an old lady all at the same time. I should volunteer to DJ, and share all my favorite Jr. High and High School songs, I'm sure everyone would love it. Or at least the parents that graduated in 1996 would. Next year.
Today I cleaned and rearranged the stuff in our kitchen cabinets. I probably called Ben on three separate occasions to tell him my progress and explain where I was putting stuff. He listens and praises my efforts...even though he can't really possibly care about the cabinets, especially while he's trying to work.
I may have picked the easiest man to be married to. He didn't quite choose as wisely as me, I mean the easiest wife probably doesn't make you listen to how she moved the toaster to a different section of the counter. *Seriously, I'm that exciting*
Anyways, I made myself a playlist of some of my current favorite songs. Ya know, to listen to while I cleaned cupboards. You do that, right? No?!? Hmmm...it's possible I'm more awkward than I thought. Who knew.
On that playlist is the song Broken Together by Casting Crowns. I probably listened to 10 times today (it wasn't a very long playlist, I underestimated how long cleaning out cabinets would actually take.)
After about the 7th time through it, I you-tubed it so I could catch the lyrics better. It's lovely. And so representative of all marriages, no matter what stage you're at. We all hit times of "drought" in our marriages because so much of life can demand our attention away from each other. It's tricky finding that balance.
The song is right. We are all broken people. We don't complete each other, Jesus alone completes us. It's so much easier to give love and grace when we each see our own brokenness. I don't have to complete him, and he doesn't complete me. The pressure would kill us. "The only way we'll last forever, is broken together."
I also listened to Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds (the Elton John version because it's my favorite) 10 times too. See: Broken.
Wife to Ben, who also happens to be the Pastor of a sweet little church in a tiny little town. Mama to three boys and little Lucy. We live in the parsonage, 27 steps from said little church. This is the journey...it involves lots of run-on sentences.
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