10 Things that Keep My Job Interesting

10. Blind people tell me I'm beautiful.
9. Dirty Old Men are always asking me for a hug.
8. After work, I get to go to class smelling like bacon (if I'm lucky) or dog pee (if I'm not!).
7. Pet owners think I enjoy feeding treats to their slobbery dogs with my bare hands.
6. Ranting phone messages from paranoid old men who think that the salt in our food counteracts their Viagra.
5. Finding out that the state does renew driver's licenses for 92 year old women without a vision test.
4. Prentending to eat (and enjoy!) cookies made by LOL's (little old ladies) who can neither see well enough to clean a kitchen nor smell well enough to know when the cookies are "done."
3. Homebound clients who never get their meals because they're out walking their dogs.
2. People with calendars from 1972 on the wall telling me they've "been meaning to clean the place up" and will get to it "soon."
1. Finding out that I'll never be tomorrow who I'm not practicing to be today.

I'm Angry

Last December, I was sending out a letter to the volunteers who help deliver Pet Food for Meals on Wheels clients. I am the coordinator for this program, and the letter was written from me, signed by me, with personal thoughts and wishes for my wonderful volunteers. I gave it to my boss, who immediately skimmed it, said, "looks fine," then as I turned to copy it, added, "you know you can't say 'Merry Christmas' on there." What?! Why can't I? Because she's not a Christian, I can't say Merry Christmas? I didn't push this issue, but it didn't set well with me either. I didn't change the letter to "Seasons Greetings" either, I just ended with a general "Sincerely." Today, I was working in a different area of our building where a note is posted for some of our volunteers reminding them about a special offer for our clients. It was signed cheerfully by one of my co-workers, "Happy Halloween." Maybe later, I'll write a post about how I feel about Halloween, but just suffice it to say that the notion that it is not okay for me to wish someone a Merry Celebration of the Incarnation, the coming of my Lord and Savior with grace and peace to all men, but she can, without fear post a public comment saying "Happy Celebration of all things Dark" makes me angry. Humph!

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time, Holly's VCR broke, and she wasn't going to be able to tape Survivor or Gilmore Girls, and this was truly tragic, so we drove to Walmart to look for an inexpensive replacement. That's when we found it. The most fabulous VCR known to man, and ... it was on sale! It's blue with read and white buttons and a yellow door to slide the tapes into, and the best part yet ... the remote control. Yes, the remote control is a Pokemon stuffed animal with feet labeled "Play" and "Stop" and hands labeled "FF" and "Rew" and a tummy labeled "power" (that's a different post!). Then, Holly got engaged and got to register for new stuff and decided she no longer needed a Pokemon VCR. That's how it came to be in my possession. But, my roommates also own their own VCRs that are not quite as fabulous as this one, but since they're already plugged in, we haven't moved them. That's how this fabulous piece of equipment came to be sitting in the chair in my room tonight and the subject of this blog. It's just sitting there and Pokemon looks bored.

Yom Horton

In high school, it was Heather Sue who first instituted "birthday week, " organizing my friends so that I had a card or gift to open each day of the week around the big day. When I went off to college, she continued the tradition by sending me "birthday-week-in-a-box" with gifts and cards labeled to be opened one at a time the week leading up to the blessed event. Observing this phenomenon, my college friends labeled my birthday "Yom Horton" because they say it is a birthday that lasts longer than a Jewish holiday. Last year, my Fort Worth friends took Yom Horton to a whole new level with what felt like a week long extravaganza. Complete, of course, with a tiara that lit up and blinked! This year, my plan has been to be a bit more subdued about this latest anniversary of my birth, but the best friends in the world have already spoiled me rotten and it's not even 10:00 a.m. yet. Thanks for the phone calls, e-cards, and surprises on my car this morning! Y'all are the best. Oh! I have to go. They just made the announcement over the P.A. at work that we need to blow out candles in the break room! ;-)

Tired Head

My dad uses a phrase I'm pretty sure he picked up from Sports Talk Radio - "Tired Head" - It's his expression for anything that just wears him out. Long, detailed discussions about inconsequential things give him tired head. Chick flicks give him tired head. People with little common sense give him tired head. Today, I have tired head. It's becoming a common condition about this time on Tuesday and Thursday mornings as I leave a class called Philosophy of Religion. I am not a good circular or abstract thinker, and this class really calls upon me to do a lot of that. Philosophy of Religion gives me tired head. So do people who are unaware that the universe does not revolve around their schedules. Animal lovers who allow their pets to take priority over people give me tired head. Busy signals give me tired head. PawPaws driving 50 on the highway in the Left lane give me tired head. What gives you tired head?

Rant Against Mr. Poopyhead

I have a friend who is serving as a missionary in an undisclosed location who writes emails back to us in "code" to disguise distinctly Christian or religious language. Her "code" word for Satan is Mr. Poopyhead. I had a very hard time with this one at first. It just makes me feel silly to say it, but the more I've used it, the more I realize that it really is appropriate. While he may be a formidable foe, there is an infinite chasm between his power and that of our Infinite, Almighty God of Glory, the very One we call Father. Lately, I have experienced seasons of doubt and discouragement in my own life, times of trial that seem to come just when there is much work to be done for the Kingdom. Then, just in the last week, I have visited with three different couples, specifically with wives of men in ministry, whose families are being attacked and the primary weapon is shaped as a big old fat lie. It's truly disgusting. I get so tired of seeing, young, godly families and homes under such vicious attack. Then, I must ask myself what part I am playing in this battle? Am I providing the support that they need to continue to fight boldly by lifting them before the Father confidently? It is remiss of us to ignore the truth about this war. It's real and it's raging, and we pretending like it's not happening is only serving to further the cause of darkness. Shed light in dark places by proclaiming truth. Jesus came that we may have life abundant ... it is the thief that comes only to steal, kill, and destroy. I read a quote this morning that said that God does not call us to things that bind us, only to to things that set us free. Walk boldly in obedience and seek freedom, for yourself and for those God's given you to pray over. Frustrate Mr. Poopyhead. Greater is He that is us than he that is in the world. I long for us to be people of the Word of God, standing firm on the promises of God, confident that It is alive and active and sharper than any two-edged sword. Precious Saints, do not surrender. Your witness, your integrity, your families, the lives of your friends are at stake. I pray you will stand firm, holding up the shield of faith, being confident that He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it.

Psalm 42, My Style

I took this morning off. I didn't set my alarm. I woke up about 30 minutes after church started. I lay in bed, enjoying the quiet of the house and talking to the Lord about some of the things on my heart. I got up slowly, enjoyed reading and writing leisurely. It probably seems very unorthodox to skip church to spend time with the Lord, but deep in my spirit, as I prepared to sleep last night, I was aware that more than I need to be with my brothers and sisters this morning, more than I needed to see or be seen, I needed to hear from the Lord. He is so kind to come and meet with us when we call upon Him. In my reading, my attention was turned to Psalm 42 this morning. I have been meditating on it, and I plan to continue to keep it before me this week. This is the way it spoke to me this morning ...

As the deer pants for the water brooks, so my soul pants for You, O God.
Just like a deer gets really thirsty and can think of nothing but finding a cool, refreshing stream, so my soul thirsts for a refreshing sense of Your Presence, Lord.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God; when shall I come and appear before God?
The innermost part of me is crying out for God, for the true and living God who is able to move and work on my behalf. When can I come and know His presence again?
My tears have been my food day and night, while they say to me all day long, "Where is your God?"
Grief and sadness have become a way of life for me while others stand around and mock me, asking me about God's whereabouts in the midst of my tears.
These things I remember and I pour out my soul within me. For I used to go along with the throng and lead them in procession to the house of God. With the voice of joy and thanksgiving, a multitude keeping festival.
I remember how things used to be and I pour it all out again. I remember how I used to go with a crowd around me into worship, leading others even, into the house of God. My voice was raised with others in joy and thanksgiving.
Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him. For the help of His presence.
Hey, Self, why are you so down? Why are you so restless and doubting? Put your confident expectation in God, for you will praise Him again. You will join and lead the flock in praise and thanksgiving again. You will praise Him for the way that His presence helped you from despair.
O my God, my soul is in despair within me; therefore, I remember You from the land of the Jordan and the peaks of Hermon, from Mount Mizar.
Father God, my heart hurts and my spirit is downcast; therefore, I remember you in the midst of my exile and captivity, in this place where you are not readily visible.
Deep calls to deep at the sound of your waterfalls; all your breakers and your waves have rolled over me.
These things seem to drown me at times, but then you come, and your words, your peace, your truth rolls over me.
The Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime; and His song will be with me in the night, a prayer to the God of my life.
The Lord will command that I see and know his gracious goodness, his unfailing love during the day. His song will be the lullabye that lets me rest peacefully in the darkness, my confidence in these truths will be a prayer to Him, the God who holds my life.
I will say to God my rock, "Why have you forgotten me? Wy do I go mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?" As a shattering of my bones, my adversaries revile me, while they say to me all day long, "Where is your God?"
I will say to God, my stronghold, my secure place of rest, "Why does it feel like you've forgotten me? Why must I endure this season of grieving because of an enemy that is so much less powerful than I knwo you are?" My adversaries look down on me and keep asking me where My God is.
Why are you in despair, O my Soul? Why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God for I shall yet praise Him, the Help of my countenance and my God.
Hey, Self, knowing all of these things, why are you holding onto that despair? Why do you let those weak enemies get to you? Put your confident expectation in God for you will praise Him again. He is the one who makes your face glow with peace and confidcence. He is your God!

Psalm 126

This weekend, I attended a simulcast at Travis Avenue Baptist Church where Beth Moore spoke to us about the message of Psalm 126. Here's what is says ...

When the Lord brought back the captive ones of Zion,
we were like those who dream.
Our mouth was filled with laughter,
our tongue with joyful shouting;
Then they said among the nations,
"The Lord has done great things for them."
The Lord has done great things for us;
we are glad.
Restore our captivity, O Lord,
As the streams in the South.
Those who sow in tears shall reap with joyful shouting.
He who goes to and fro weeping, carrying his bag of seed,
shall indeed come again with a shout of joy,
bringing his sheaves with him.

I won't try to summarize the messages of the weekend for you, but I will say this one thing that is on my heart as I continue to meditate on this passage. As someone who has not traditionally cried easily or often, I have found myself growing increasingly emotional in life, especially about things regarding the precious work of God's grace in my life and the lives of people around me. This has frustrated me at times because I wasn't used to crying and my own tears made me uncomfortable. This weekend, I can't help but think that if there is anything worth crying over in life, the Word of God and the desire to see Him working and moving around me is worth the "shame" of tears. :-)

Laughs A Lot

A new friend stated an observation yesterday that made me ... well ... it made me laugh. :-) We have been studying together for the last week, in preparation for a Philosophy midterm tomorrow morning. Philosophy is not my favorite thing, and trying to think philosophically often gives me "tired head" as Big Dave would put it. However, as we were leaving a study session yesterday, my friend observed, "Kristen, you strike me as someone who likes to laugh a lot." I don't know why this was so funny to me -- maybe because for those of you who know me well, you recognize that this just might be the understatement of the century. It reminded me fondly of the husband of one of my dear friends. He and I did not hit it off initially, but down the road, he told me, "Kristen, you just laughed all the time, and I know that life is funny, but come on, it's not that funny!" I took that comment to heart and thought on it a good, long while. Eventually, I quit worrying about it, but when a similar observation was made yesterday, I began to think on it again. Is there such a thing as laughing too much? Maybe. Do I fall into that category? I think not. Here's my conclusion. There are a few things in life that are very serious and should be treated as such. The rest of life is just fodder for comedy and blogging. Just in case you were wondering, I took a quiz a few weeks ago to find out which Care Bear I most resemble. The results are in. The Care Bear I have the most in common with is ... (drum roll please) ... Laughs-a-Lot Bear!