Happy Little Trees

I love to work out. I live very close to a YMCA, so I can just pop across the street and get my workout groove on. I normally use the same types of machines at the Y. I really like using the new elliptical/space machine (not the official name). But it makes my feet go a bit numb. I'm not sure why.  But it's a bit more challenging than your run-of-the-treadmill elliptical. And--it makes me feel like I'm running on the moon.

When I do a workout, I feel so much better. My body needs it. My body craves it. But sometimes, the busy bee and couch potato that live inside of me just refuse to work out. I wish I could get those two in gear! Then, I would be like Miss Universe or something.

The first time I had a wedding bouquet, I was about four years old. I think someone actually gave it to me during the reception. I'm not sure I really caught it, but I have a picture documenting it. I kept what was left of that bouquet for many years in my keepsake box.

When I finally reached the age of a wedding guest that was the legal age of marrying, the bouquet toss became an extremely embarrassing affair. I hoped that I would be in the bathroom during that time or anywhere but in arms reach of someone dragging me to the toss. All the single ladies were gathered as a spectacle for the rest of the group to watch. I hated the pose where the photographer would make us raise our hands in the air pretending to want it. I usually wound up hiding in the back just hoping the moment would pass so I could refill my punch.

At a certain point in my 20s, I decided that I would no longer fear the bouquet toss, but I would seize that bouquet every time. If I had to play the game, I was going to win. At one event, I was so eager to grab it, I made a fellow single lady bleed from my fingernail skimming her wrist. After that, I decided maybe fierce aggression at a wedding was not a good look.

I attended a wedding last weekend, and I got a bouquet again. It was pretty much by default. At our friend's wedding a few years ago, she and I have a picture together pretending to fight over the bouquet.

There wasn't an official toss, but the bride was kind enough to let me have the bouquet in a Mean-Joe-Green-Coke-Toss kind of fashion. It was a special catch--because I knew she'd been there like me many times. It felt like I was being handed the baton or something. I don't know if this means that I've had enough bouquets in my possession, I will finally get married, but whatever the case, it's a lovely bouquet and it's stayed fresh all week.

I like the concept of Groupon, but there seems to be a disconnect between me and it. Good deals are great, and I am drawn to them like a bug to a light. But I struggle with actually using the Groupon. Perhaps that is the purpose of the concept. It lets people envision that they will actually use all the services--and then they never have time to.

I bought a Zumba coupon, and I was determined to use it. I had to make sure that $20 was not wasted!

I've been to class a total of three times now. It's a bit interesting. The weirdest part is the Zumba facial expressions. The instructors looks a bit like they are on a Shakira video and the people participating look a bit like they are in shock. I try to block that part out and move whatever body part they tell me to move to the correct beat. Somehow, I leave sopping wet with sweat.

I love to move to music, so it does help me to move, but I am very afraid that someone is getting a secret Zumba video that is going viral and officemates are gathered around laughing--and I am the center of the video. It's probably not happening like that, but the possibility is always there.

I've been listening to a morning radio show on the way to work. The focus this week has been on heaven. When I got bored with the daily request for donations for the non-profit program, I turned onto the local Christian station and heard a familiar song, but this time, I paid attention to the words. The focus of the song was about achieving all your goals...now what?

All of those things together struck a chord in my heart...suppose I check off all my goals... Suppose my bucket list spills over with completed tasks. Suppose I have adequate food, clothing, and a job... Now what? What else is left?

The song said over and over, "Your love. Your love. The only thing that matters..."

The radio program beckoned, "There is more to life than just what we see on Earth."

Life can seem like a constant race or goal or unmet desire. But when I take a step back, what really matters? What will last beyond my final early breath?

The love of God is eternal. Heaven is forever.

My priorities have to be refocused on a daily basis--well, maybe a hourly, no-- minute-ly, no-- secondly basis.

REFOCUS.

It's not a bad thing to have goals or dreams. I believe God puts those in our heart. But the main goal is Christ.

Where is your focus today? What is overtaking your mind and/or your time? How does that fit with God's agenda?
(questions I am asking myself)

The cool thing is when I am able to able to refocus--things are much better. I like knowing a big God watches over and cares for little me. (oh, and you, too--no worries.)

1) Run faster.
2) Do a backbend kickover without hospitalization.
3) Pray more.
4) Read more.
5) Figure out what constitutes classic pieces of clothing for me.
6) Get better sleep.
7) Figure out where my affordable dry cleaning place should be.
8) Spend more time with YoungLife kids.
9) Put God's word on my heart and mind better.
10) Dance and/or sing each day.


Thirty-six, I bid you adieu.
It was a pretty good year for me and you.
We met some new friends and had some adventures.
I'm still aging, but I don't yet need dentures.

This could be the year I finally settle down.
Meet a good-hearted man from a nearby town.
Or it could be the year I sail the seas,
On a Disney cruise to some place like Belize.

Whatever treasures the next year holds,
I know good & well I'm not that old.
I still got some glamour; I still got spunk!
The haunting of forty will not put me in a funk!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

It started out with a free rainbow slinky. I love slinkies. They bring back good memories of childhood trying to get that crazy thing to travel smoothly down our staircase. But this slinky led me on a bad path.

I remember I was visiting an off-campus college bookstore trying to get some used textbooks for a better price. While there, I was lured to a credit card representative that would give me a free rainbow slinky and discounted plane tickets for signing up. Little did I realize, that those "free" items would costs me thousands and thousands of dollars in the years to follow.

My purchases were maintained and orderly for many years. I knew what debt was--my father was an accountant. I knew I didn't want it. So, I would faithfully pay off each balance.

Life took some unexpected turns in my early twenties. I left my teaching job in North Carolina to move home and pursue a more advanced degree. Then, within a month of making this decision, my father was diagnosed with cancer.

We moved to Houston for his treatment. I started going to a large church that was very welcoming and loving, but also filled with many people who seemed to have way better paying jobs than I ever had. And at that time, I had no job.

So, Houston had all kinds of new adventures and possibilities. And I had few funds. I did not want to keep asking my parents for money, so I used my plastic. The balance wasn't horrific, but it was like a starter kit. Then, I found myself in a relationship with a someone who tried impressing me with fine food, gifts, and trips. After the impressing stage of the dating relationship was over, we started splitting our costs 50/50. My half was pretty much plastic.

After the big spender got cut from my life, the plastic became my emergency spending account. And it seemed like there were always extra emergencies.

Years later, my church went through a campaign to raise funds for a redo of our sanctuary. We were asked to pray about how to give extra. I kind of felt like my contribution would be like the widow's mite. I still prayed about how much to give and was given a number that was a little uncomfortable. And then in frustration--or maybe in obedience--I got out all my bills and sat with them spread out all over the floor. And I prayed and cried out to God asking for help.

I prayed about becoming a more cheerful giver--which seemed a weird thing to do when you are trying to pay off debt--but it was a very crucial part of the lesson I learned. I've had many great examples of cheerful givers in my life. And I've been challenged by people who live this out.

The way I see it, God has all the money in the world, and he chooses how to distribute it. That money can shift from one hand to the next. If I have a lot of it or a little of it, it's not mine. It's God's. And what he does entrust me with, I need to be wise about how I use it. (note: I am still not the queen of wisdom in this area)

Sometime after I prayed, I was pretty much miraculously blessed with a new job and a raise, and I made a decision to get control of the plastic. I felt those things were an answer to prayer and God taking care of me. I'm happy to say, as of last Friday, the plastic is now paid in full! I'm no longer an American statistic. It feels good.

I want to thank God for being gracious to me by teaching me how to grow wiser and more discerning in the crazy world of money. Our world is full of lures, and shiny, plastic money can help bring temporary relief--but I warn you, it comes with a high interest rate. Be careful and prayerful. (I feel a bumper sticker coming on!)

College students: avoid the rainbow slinky!!!

I want to go to the rodeo, but somehow life keeps holding me back. I had a few opportunities at the beginning of the rodeo season, but I did some other things...and now, I have a pending trip home with very few days left to visit the bulls and cowboys and fried food fixers.

Honestly, I'm almost in a panic. I have to get to that rodeo!

I feel like a cowgirl version of Cinderella. To complete that storyline, I also don't have any boots to wear! Do you know how embarrassing it is to be a Houstonian without a good pair of boots? I bought a pair of boots several years back that have been worn until the heels are just wonky and both unfixable and unwearable.

If you've never been to the rodeo, you have to go. You need to get over the traffic and the crowds and the funky smells, and just take it in. The rodeo is the place where country comes to town. I know I can get some good fried crawfish some place else, but I really want it from the rodeo. I want to see those high school kids chase the calves and get pulled all over Reliant. If I miss the rodeo, it's like skipping a monumental seasonal change--like missing the Starbucks Holiday drinks or something.

Rodeo, one way or another, I will be there with boots on. Regardless or not of bippity-boppity-boo sweeping a wave of bedazzlement cowgirl glory on me -- or if I just have to wear some city slicker wear, I'm going.