Anyway, with a sad sigh, I opened my Bible and ended up at the end of Isaiah and grabbed onto these verses with both my hands:
"For just as the new heavens and new earth that I am making will stand firm before me," (GOD's DECREE:) "So will your children and your reputation stand firm. Month after month and week by week, everyone will come to worship me," GOD says.
I let that verse wash over me and give me hope.
Then I turned back one page and underlined this:
"Look ahead with joy, anticipate what I'm creating...
- no more sounds of weeping in the city
- no cries of anguish
My people will be long-lived as trees, my chosen ones will have satisfaction in their work.
They won't work and have nothing come of it, they won't have children snatched out from under them...
For MY PEOPLE (like, me, Jane?) are plantings blessed by God, with her children and grandchildren likewise, GOD BLESSED.
Before Jane calls out, I'll answer.
Before she even finishes praying, I have heard.
End of random thought.
What 5 Words Would I Want People To Use To Describe Me?
(Good golly. I'm watching Reba while I type this and *snort* too funny.)
(Oy. I love Van.)
(There I said it.)
(I'm not ashamed.)
(Not one bit.)
OK. Five Words.
(Uh, I posed this question on facebook and know what was interesting? The females who responsed, listed 5 descriptive words, and the males who responded each wrote a 5 word sentence. ie: "I bow to Ben's greatness." or "Don't cry for me downhere." or "Gee what a swell guy.")
My five words?
The five words I want people to say about me?
That I am:
- decisive. Wait, no. I mean abrasive. No, I mean sweet. Whatever. Four words are enough.
(Go, Barbara Jean, go. *snicker, snicker* She just, well, I guess you should be here. And be divorced. )
Sorry. This post is taking HOURS. So many distractions; Reba. Van. Cheyenne. Kiera. and so on.
AnyWAY, the thing about having 5 words describe me, is that I need to spend time everysingleday working on becoming those things... they don't just happen. I have to sacrifice time and energy that I'd spend on fun stuff, like, say, organizing my image files or reading 800 page trashy novels to do athletic things like run marathons or hot things like install false eyelashes.
So by now I guess you've figured that the above list isn't my real one. Because come on.
My five words are:
and that I rock as a mom.
And the two words that I definitely do NOT want anyone to use to describe me?
SELFISH. SHALLOW. SELF-ABSORBED. Ooops that was three. (Clearly, I am not going to get the "learned" tag. ) Funny, eh? I have a blog. Hey, look at me! Pay attention to me! Read my words! Lookit my pictures! Me! Me! Me! Yes. I totally see the irony. The day I cancel my blog is the day you know I've arrived. I will have become my 5 words.
So. I wrote a buncha words in my journal regarding Bible verses and prayers and then wondered what I was supposed to do to become more godly, compassionate, prayerful, encouraging and generous. How do I practice that? Like if 'athletic' was one of my words, I'd know I'd have to put on my sneakers and go shoot hoops at the elementary school. But how does one devote time and energy to becoming more generous?
Whilst I was pondering this, the phone rang. Twas my middlest-born. He was at the local video store, returning that collection of DVD's I watched the night before.
He had hopped out of his truck and ran in, leaving his truck running. Somehow, the driver's door closed, then locked...
"Mom? What should I do?"
On Saturday, I was driving through the intersection at Glover and 72nd and the memory of having three separate vehicular emergencies at that corner flashed into my mind. Each time I found myself stranded/stuck, I called my dad. And each of those times, he came right on over. I called him before I even called BCAA.
And that reminded me that I hadn't added Max to my BCAA plan yet. I meant to do it this summer once he got his license, but forgot. So I made a mental note to do that for him after the weekend.
And that also got me thinking about who my kids' first call is to... and luckily, how every time Clint has called, I've been able to respond. And thus far, Max has called me first as well. And, again, each time, I've been free to help him.
And that gave me a moment of peace regarding my parenting on Saturday afternoon while I was waiting for the light to change and the train to go by.
So now it's Sunday and Max is stranded and I'm free.
"I'll bring up your spare key. Where'd you put it?"
"It's broken. It snapped this summer and I haven't got a new one cut yet."
"Well, OK. I guess we'll have to phone BCAA. I've got to be there, though, so that I can show the guy my card and ID."
So I drove over to the video store, called BCAA and waited 70 minutes for the expert-at-breaking-into-cars guy show up. Above was my view.
Max drank a gator aid, I took photos. Like I was a news reporter.
So thankful it wasn't raining.
"I'm not taking to you about this."
"This" being anything.
When he finally arrived, looking alot like the Midnight Tow Truck Driver, I walked over to him with my government issued photo identification, my Visa care and my BCAA membership card. (Just like the lady on the phone told me to.)
"Nah, I don't need to see your card. He's your son, he's locked his keys in his truck. You've probably sacrificed at least an hour of your time to sit here with him and look after his problem. You're a good mom. You can go, I'll look after him from here."
He looks into the front of Max's truck and sees an XBox game.
"So, before I open this up. Whadda think about that game? Any good?..."
I sucked back tears, got in my truck and drove away.
It still makes me get all puddly when I think about it.
There is power in words, people. We have to say nice things to each other more often.
That guy? That twenty-or-thirty-something-year-old who may or may not have been a Christian? Was used by God to give me a word of encouragement in the middle of a quiet-not-family-filled-holiday-weekend that I so badly wanted/needed. My wondering how I could practice being generous or godly or whatever it was I wanted to be, was answered by a stranger.
I want to be more like that guy.
Used by God while doing his job.
Speaking of guys and jobs, Congrats to Mark on winning "Entrepeneur of the Year" award in BC (Real Estate/Construction). Here is his magazine spread, with my amateurish efforts at blurring out his/my last name and his company's name.
(My promise when I started this blog was that no one would ever be able to google his name and get linked to pixnprose. Thus, the blurring.)
The boys are uber proud... we discussed his win at length during Thanksgiving dinner and Drew's taking the magazine to school tomorrow to show his marketing teacher:
On Saturday, I'll rent a car and drive over to Prince Edward Island to take a peak at the Atlantic Ocean and tour Charlottetown.
Mostly (about 90%) I'm excited.
Three things I'm thankful for:
It's not like all the leaves on the tree slowly transform from green to gold to orange to red. Oh no. Some branches jump straight from green to red, while other sections just stay green. It's like those green branches are rebelling against change. They are hanging on to the 'old colours' as long as possible. And even though red is NOT green, it IS lovely. And once they accept the inevidable, the whole tree will be stunning. But until then, those green branches look a little silly here in the midst of fall.