This past weekend got me to thinking. Although I didn't do much of it, I was reminded how much I love dancing. I love loud music, too. They both go way back for me. The problem is I've enjoyed them at times and in settings in my life when I shouldn't have, and that's left a stain on my impression of them. When I "got my act together", I threw parts of me away. Some of it was becoming a mother, I guess. But why should a husband lose his lover because she's become a mother? Why should strippers reign supreme in the art when it was given to the secrecy of one man and one woman committed eternally to each other?
I have a whole range of things to write about on another day regarding the way we drive ourselves into the ground with busyness, losing the passion that drives us, feeling like we're righteously sacrificing our desires. It may seem a good notion, until our partner disagrees. I see married men (three I can specifically think of right now) around, attractive men who aren't "womanizer" types and would hardly consider jeopardizing their families for a romp. BUT they look distracted, like they're lacking something, maybe lonely, feeling unneeded. If we assume that those guys should "man up", we're probably wrong. He's likely trying; men are vulnerable also. When we lose our physical connection with them, we sever part of the cord that binds us.
I've written before how I desensitized myself with the "just do it" attitude. I wouldn't ask another woman to do that, but I can ask her to be an opportunist. He may be rude, presumptuous, a gawker - deriving his pleasure from attributes of other women. For some men enough is never enough; I get that. I believe for the most part though that the things which drew us together have been cast down after various offenses have separated us. What did he tell you turned him on when he first knew you? Have you let it go or are you enjoying turning someone else on with it? Both are equally wrong.
Listen, I of all people know that our hormones fluctuate, sickness and sadness come and go, tiredness runs rampant. But when those "good" hormones are flowing, be ready to jump on the wagon (or "in the truck") and make a new experience that sets his world on fire. I'm giving "myself" advice right now ...because I'm finally in a place of comfort and passage after all that's happened.
The idea that the marriage bed has any perversion attached to it is quite a feat of the devil. Like anything in life, we can take it too far. In this case, anything that involves visualizing the involvement of a third party is pure destruction, leaving room for self doubt, jealousy, greed, and eventual actuality - involving other people is satan's playground.
All that said, what about YOU makes YOU feel sexy? For some women, it's lingerie. For others, it's long nails or high heels. I don't particularly rock any of that. I do like my hair. I like the way it feels on my body. Hygiene matters and the details of their personal manifestations make for interest. Some people think my bra size indicates others weapons in my cache, but something in my mind has disconnected that sexual appeal while nursing those 7 babies. That's all right though because I'm all about core, so much so that I feel way more sexy when I've worked out my trunk, even if my arms and legs are still "plump". Something about hips appeal to me which is one reason why I love him to approach me from behind at a store, even if its just to talk behind my back. Now ...I KNOW you didn't want to know that, but my question to you is, "What turns YOU on?" Give serious thought to it. We try to be good wives and turn him on, but he really isn't turned "up high" until we're turned on to the same degree. Do what makes you feel confident and bear a big ole smile while you're doing it, not a naughty smile, but a delighted smile ...afterall, he is yours.
Make it a challenge. I have other thoughts on the "challenge" idea, but today it means that we cease being a couple when we cease to please in the most basic, personal ways. I'm gonna go for it. I'm not sure where it'll lead. I'll guard it from filth, but I'm sure it will involve dancing and things I tried to push away (that were never bad on their own). I won't ever be a feast for the eyes naked; haven't been since I brought that first nearly 10 lb baby into existence. I have terrible stretch marks, severe vericose veins, recently occurring cellulite, skin breakouts worse than some teenagers, a scar from a C section, and the list goes on. I could hide under a veil of "conservatism" and just be done with anything but simple sex (which has its own good value, BTW). I actually have an opinion about conservative garb such as the Amish wear. Those women of child bearing age seem not to be fighting vanity but to be covering transgressions of lax health standards ...simply put, they're fat.
"My" fat isn't going to melt away quickly but I continue to help it along. While that transition is happening, I can come up with all kinds of "costumes", if you will, to play up my remaining "good qualities". "Camouflage" is probably a more appropriate word. Is that not what we do daily with make-up and good fitting clothes? Why not have fun with it and pass that fun onto the love of our lives, whether we "like" him all the time or not? There's a chance he would be more "likeable" if he had the release of perfect pleasure with the woman he vowed to mate with for the rest of his life.
Calling him a pervert because you have other priorities, or you have guilt, or you have an "image" in your mind to maintain, or you don't like it to begin with ...is, quite frankly, "your" problem (and mine). So ....we can do all things through Christ ...let's get to doing "them". :)
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
A 21 Year Old, Her Mother, and Atlanta
Let me say first that I am honored that Megan would want her mother involved in the celebration of her 21st birthday. Her father was hurt that his participation wasn't highly sought after, but it really did turn into a girls' night out and I know she would've never let loose if he were within sight - even for the tamest of dance.
I got up Saturday and was driving south before long. Most of you should know by now that Megan lives near our families just south of Atlanta. Mike's sister, Aunt Mandy, and I go way back to middle school. She coordinated the event with the 27th birthday of a mutual friend of theirs. She also volunteered to be the DD. There were plans for almost 20 of us to meet up for dinner at some higher end place in the city, but it was to be of no avail, so the core group for Megan's party just sat it down at Longhorn. We made some great selections and getting to see Alabama put 2 scores up before we left got my night started out nicely.
Watching improv was to be the highlight of the evening. Indeed, it was. I'm hardly a pessimist, but I had reservations about just how entertaining it would be. Their couches and audience participation set up a cozy atmosphere of barrier removal. I burst out laughing, slapping my hands together ...even when I didn't want to. There was one girl in particular I have nothing less than anticipation for her stardom. Her name is Lauren ...(so I can say I told ya so). A perfect impersonation of Jimmy Stewart was done by "Mark", who also happens to be black, proving his exceptional abilities. I'll be looking for him, too.
When it was over, there was some cuttin' up and picture taking 'til everyone could decide where to gravitate to next. We set out following one of the guys (even though he wore those creepy white elf shoes which was Pied Piperish ;) to a hangout familiar to him. The guy carding took a close look at Megan's and overemphasized his "stamp" of approval, even though she lacked 2 hours being 21 - very cool of him. Like any place around 10 pm, it was low key to begin with. Megan was coerced to the floor early on, showing some of her "zumba" skills (chuckles) in her teal green dress and nice new boots and ...birthday bling.
I've yet to mention Aunt Jennifer, my brother's (ex) wife but my (forever) sister (not "in-law" but "in-love"). She was also a DD and had brought along her 21 year old friend. We worked the spectrum of ages very well. Jennifer and I spotted a good "viewing" corner quickly and set up camp with purses and coats. At The Improv, I'd hit on a good Oktoberfest, Fat Tire, (which a guy at the bar thought was funny to hear me say ...I should've told him a few more things :/ ). There were plenty of guys who didn't have a problem with "fat tires"; but I sat in the corner for nearly 3 hours, people watching with Jennifer. We saw things that we thought we should "learn to do" and ...some things that made us ...well ...flinch.
Apparently, corner sitters are magnetics for people who need a challenge. Thanks to my dear daughter, I got not 1 but 2 "lap" dances by young men who by all appearances "had some practice at it". On Megan's behalf, I'll say she had NO idea that's what would happen. On MY behalf , I'll say that they were nothing like the videos Mike found on the computer of male lap dancing. AND I did hold my purse like an old lady to keep some space and I think I even hit one of them with it. All 3 of us "old ladies" could've done well for ourselves but we kept it decent and accountable.
We didn't do any bar hopping because once the place was packed upstairs and down, I guess no one had any real reason to leave. Sometime before 2 am, we all decided the crowd was too aggressive and it was time to mosey on back. 4 of us stopped to eat, but I didn't have anything. They didn't let me live that down, since it's some kind of sin NOT to eat at Waffle House, but I felt so good and had such BAD hickups and ...was bent on not wasting the leftovers from Longhorn. Some time before 4 am, Megan and I crashed in my niece's bed. The "deed" was done: she'd gotten into a real bar - didn't get even close to drunk, danced her herself tired, and got to witness firsthand the indecency that comes in the wee hours of partying. Some people might have a problem with how we rang in her year but I know different. She learned something.
Sunday, first full day of 21, she slept 'til noon. We sat around in our PJs and talked with Aunt Mandy 'til 3 pm. (I said it while I was down there, but it bears repeating, "I like her (Mandy) more every time we get to talk," which is rarely.) We drove over to Mom and Dad's for an hour or so. Dad was building as usual and Mom was driving my cheerful little niece, Maggie, around on the 4 wheeler. Megan wanted to do the "mature 21", so some of us regrouped and went out for Mexican. I managed to squeeze in a prayer. I think it was a surprise to the crowd on the whole, but I thanked God (not flipantly, but with a smile) for the "survival" of the night before and asked for help that we live the week by that thanks.
Then there were two, Megan and me. She had begged earlier in the day that Mike approve my spending the night with her at her place, before returning home. So, we rode around a little looking for something else to do. I make no apology that I bought her her first "Irish Carbomb", although she was none too impressed and I had to finish it. She always defaults to the theater and the new "Footloose" was showing at 10 pm; so although it's not "family friendly" in my view, as 2 adults we enjoyed the dancing and music ...especially, since we were the only ones there. Yes, the Harpers shut another place down. And, yes, we danced all the way down the steps and out the door when it was over. Another yes, Megan is a well adjusted, reliable, fantastic adult with an angelic coutenance. One more yes, I like the woman we've helped fashion and whom God has abounded.
I got up Saturday and was driving south before long. Most of you should know by now that Megan lives near our families just south of Atlanta. Mike's sister, Aunt Mandy, and I go way back to middle school. She coordinated the event with the 27th birthday of a mutual friend of theirs. She also volunteered to be the DD. There were plans for almost 20 of us to meet up for dinner at some higher end place in the city, but it was to be of no avail, so the core group for Megan's party just sat it down at Longhorn. We made some great selections and getting to see Alabama put 2 scores up before we left got my night started out nicely.
Watching improv was to be the highlight of the evening. Indeed, it was. I'm hardly a pessimist, but I had reservations about just how entertaining it would be. Their couches and audience participation set up a cozy atmosphere of barrier removal. I burst out laughing, slapping my hands together ...even when I didn't want to. There was one girl in particular I have nothing less than anticipation for her stardom. Her name is Lauren ...(so I can say I told ya so). A perfect impersonation of Jimmy Stewart was done by "Mark", who also happens to be black, proving his exceptional abilities. I'll be looking for him, too.
When it was over, there was some cuttin' up and picture taking 'til everyone could decide where to gravitate to next. We set out following one of the guys (even though he wore those creepy white elf shoes which was Pied Piperish ;) to a hangout familiar to him. The guy carding took a close look at Megan's and overemphasized his "stamp" of approval, even though she lacked 2 hours being 21 - very cool of him. Like any place around 10 pm, it was low key to begin with. Megan was coerced to the floor early on, showing some of her "zumba" skills (chuckles) in her teal green dress and nice new boots and ...birthday bling.
I've yet to mention Aunt Jennifer, my brother's (ex) wife but my (forever) sister (not "in-law" but "in-love"). She was also a DD and had brought along her 21 year old friend. We worked the spectrum of ages very well. Jennifer and I spotted a good "viewing" corner quickly and set up camp with purses and coats. At The Improv, I'd hit on a good Oktoberfest, Fat Tire, (which a guy at the bar thought was funny to hear me say ...I should've told him a few more things :/ ). There were plenty of guys who didn't have a problem with "fat tires"; but I sat in the corner for nearly 3 hours, people watching with Jennifer. We saw things that we thought we should "learn to do" and ...some things that made us ...well ...flinch.
Apparently, corner sitters are magnetics for people who need a challenge. Thanks to my dear daughter, I got not 1 but 2 "lap" dances by young men who by all appearances "had some practice at it". On Megan's behalf, I'll say she had NO idea that's what would happen. On MY behalf , I'll say that they were nothing like the videos Mike found on the computer of male lap dancing. AND I did hold my purse like an old lady to keep some space and I think I even hit one of them with it. All 3 of us "old ladies" could've done well for ourselves but we kept it decent and accountable.
We didn't do any bar hopping because once the place was packed upstairs and down, I guess no one had any real reason to leave. Sometime before 2 am, we all decided the crowd was too aggressive and it was time to mosey on back. 4 of us stopped to eat, but I didn't have anything. They didn't let me live that down, since it's some kind of sin NOT to eat at Waffle House, but I felt so good and had such BAD hickups and ...was bent on not wasting the leftovers from Longhorn. Some time before 4 am, Megan and I crashed in my niece's bed. The "deed" was done: she'd gotten into a real bar - didn't get even close to drunk, danced her herself tired, and got to witness firsthand the indecency that comes in the wee hours of partying. Some people might have a problem with how we rang in her year but I know different. She learned something.
Sunday, first full day of 21, she slept 'til noon. We sat around in our PJs and talked with Aunt Mandy 'til 3 pm. (I said it while I was down there, but it bears repeating, "I like her (Mandy) more every time we get to talk," which is rarely.) We drove over to Mom and Dad's for an hour or so. Dad was building as usual and Mom was driving my cheerful little niece, Maggie, around on the 4 wheeler. Megan wanted to do the "mature 21", so some of us regrouped and went out for Mexican. I managed to squeeze in a prayer. I think it was a surprise to the crowd on the whole, but I thanked God (not flipantly, but with a smile) for the "survival" of the night before and asked for help that we live the week by that thanks.
Then there were two, Megan and me. She had begged earlier in the day that Mike approve my spending the night with her at her place, before returning home. So, we rode around a little looking for something else to do. I make no apology that I bought her her first "Irish Carbomb", although she was none too impressed and I had to finish it. She always defaults to the theater and the new "Footloose" was showing at 10 pm; so although it's not "family friendly" in my view, as 2 adults we enjoyed the dancing and music ...especially, since we were the only ones there. Yes, the Harpers shut another place down. And, yes, we danced all the way down the steps and out the door when it was over. Another yes, Megan is a well adjusted, reliable, fantastic adult with an angelic coutenance. One more yes, I like the woman we've helped fashion and whom God has abounded.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
What Could've Been
It's 2:30 am and Miranda was due home an hour and a half ago. She has become good friends with a guy who is 3 years older than she. When he asked her to go to a big fair to see a group they both like a lot, we said yes, but Mike and I told her we would go on our own and just "be" there. See, we aren't fans of sending our children out to test the waters in their own one on one "spaces". It turned out that night both our boys' teams scheduled ball games. Mike misses a lot of them on the road, so after he'd sent Miranda a thorough and sincere message, we let her go alone, but not before he told him to "bring his baby home safe".
It's 2:52 and she's here. They had such a good time at the fair that he asked her to go to another concert tonight. For the life of me why we felt okay to let her go just because there would be several of them, I don't know. Since Mike is in Maine, it was up to me to have the talk with him about drinking and purity accountability. Soon after I began, he took off his sunglasses to look me eye to eye, which I considered a high form of respect. As they were leaving, he said they were meeting up with someone with a bigger vehicle. An alarm should have gone off, but I was helping McKala find something that was lost before she headed off to camp with Megan (who'd just arrived from Georgia AND with a tremendous "mess" her German Shepherd mix had made when he'd became frantic earlier).
She just kissed me and went to bed. She called and said the woman who was driving had disappeared as soon as they got there and would not admit how much alcohol she'd had. When they confronted ...she sped off, leaving them in downtown Charlotte (1 1/2 hours from here). As I was getting all this information from Miranda, one of the guys got in touch with his aunt who was leaving to get them, but from more than an hour away. I should've just left and gone for them myself and that's what Mike is going to say when he reads this. I'd busied myself tonight exchanging seasons in Macklynn's closet and drawers. When I finally sat down, thoughts began to course through my mind of them "alone" together in a parking lot and being prime candidates for predators. I did the concert scene in Atlanta, so that's my perspective. Apparently, this is a nicer area.
She probably went to sleep with a smile on her face. So, there she was, 50 degrees outside, while McKala and Megan are at one of the best camps anywhere all snug in their Cabela's sleeping bags. As I looked over at Madalynn asleep on the couch beside me and Macklynn asleep on the loveseat, I suddenly felt a huge pang of guilt. I know she's almost grown, but she still depends on our protection and I flat out dropped the ball. Turns out the conversation in the cold of the parking lot and under brotherlike protection, she had a better time than at the concert - like some sort of adventure, I suppose. It wasn't for lack of my prayers of hedge around them.
I hope her dreams are sweet right now. When I got the call that they were on their way, my wall was taken with flood waters. It wasn't that I didn't believe that God would handle this. It was just that I was so utterly thankful. I have an iron stomach and am almost never nauseous (as shown by the thickness of my physique ;), but I really thought I would vomit. When they finally got here, she was laughing and trying to get out quickly. He was thinking of "getting out of dodge". First I asked him if he'd met my Pitbull who was trying to make her way in while Miranda was getting out. In all seriousness though, I told him I didn't care what time it was. He did what I asked him to do. Their plans had fallen apart but the most important one stayed in tact. How could I be mad? He got her here undamaged and I thanked him for it.
4:05 and it's time for me to sleep. I'm still wondering what all I'll learn from tonight, but I'm having a hard time getting past the idea of stomping the driver's rearend for selfishly indulging and belligerently refusing to allow another driver, then leaving our not even 17 (until next week) year old in the city on a cold night. I'm certain the young woman needs prayer ...so y'all do that for her ...just in case I ever come face to face with her and beat her senseless ...not really, but it sure sounds good right now.
It's 2:52 and she's here. They had such a good time at the fair that he asked her to go to another concert tonight. For the life of me why we felt okay to let her go just because there would be several of them, I don't know. Since Mike is in Maine, it was up to me to have the talk with him about drinking and purity accountability. Soon after I began, he took off his sunglasses to look me eye to eye, which I considered a high form of respect. As they were leaving, he said they were meeting up with someone with a bigger vehicle. An alarm should have gone off, but I was helping McKala find something that was lost before she headed off to camp with Megan (who'd just arrived from Georgia AND with a tremendous "mess" her German Shepherd mix had made when he'd became frantic earlier).
She just kissed me and went to bed. She called and said the woman who was driving had disappeared as soon as they got there and would not admit how much alcohol she'd had. When they confronted ...she sped off, leaving them in downtown Charlotte (1 1/2 hours from here). As I was getting all this information from Miranda, one of the guys got in touch with his aunt who was leaving to get them, but from more than an hour away. I should've just left and gone for them myself and that's what Mike is going to say when he reads this. I'd busied myself tonight exchanging seasons in Macklynn's closet and drawers. When I finally sat down, thoughts began to course through my mind of them "alone" together in a parking lot and being prime candidates for predators. I did the concert scene in Atlanta, so that's my perspective. Apparently, this is a nicer area.
She probably went to sleep with a smile on her face. So, there she was, 50 degrees outside, while McKala and Megan are at one of the best camps anywhere all snug in their Cabela's sleeping bags. As I looked over at Madalynn asleep on the couch beside me and Macklynn asleep on the loveseat, I suddenly felt a huge pang of guilt. I know she's almost grown, but she still depends on our protection and I flat out dropped the ball. Turns out the conversation in the cold of the parking lot and under brotherlike protection, she had a better time than at the concert - like some sort of adventure, I suppose. It wasn't for lack of my prayers of hedge around them.
I hope her dreams are sweet right now. When I got the call that they were on their way, my wall was taken with flood waters. It wasn't that I didn't believe that God would handle this. It was just that I was so utterly thankful. I have an iron stomach and am almost never nauseous (as shown by the thickness of my physique ;), but I really thought I would vomit. When they finally got here, she was laughing and trying to get out quickly. He was thinking of "getting out of dodge". First I asked him if he'd met my Pitbull who was trying to make her way in while Miranda was getting out. In all seriousness though, I told him I didn't care what time it was. He did what I asked him to do. Their plans had fallen apart but the most important one stayed in tact. How could I be mad? He got her here undamaged and I thanked him for it.
4:05 and it's time for me to sleep. I'm still wondering what all I'll learn from tonight, but I'm having a hard time getting past the idea of stomping the driver's rearend for selfishly indulging and belligerently refusing to allow another driver, then leaving our not even 17 (until next week) year old in the city on a cold night. I'm certain the young woman needs prayer ...so y'all do that for her ...just in case I ever come face to face with her and beat her senseless ...not really, but it sure sounds good right now.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Busted
We just got home from Michael's team's first victory and Macklynn's first Ultimate (no tackle) Football. Macklynn managed some bloodshed anyway ...figures. In trying to check my messages on Facebook, I'm flashed with "not accessable right now" ...hmmm ....that figures too after "someone" sent my private messages from the weekend to my husband while he was in New England. Since I know a lot of "smart" people, it could've been any number of engineering graduates, hackers, networkers, or maybe my dear old husband "keeping a clean house".
"What's to hide, Michelle?" you ask. Well, I didn't think that much, but reading the sincere and heated debate with a hardcore Atheist in retrospect doesn't look so good. I loosened up to appear more personable. He hinted at something more than the issue at hand several times. I ignored some of it or answered wisely that my husband works hard and has been quite the fighter lately. My pitfall was a comment (to a brazen statement) made in sarcasm. I really set myself up for it with my terminology, but my reply was "sex with an atheist ...wouldn't that be an ironic downfall". I meant that he was working on entrapment to use against me and my arguments. For all I know, he already has, since it's laid out nice and clear on my husband's computer.
The real problem is that Mike, knowing all the time thatI had given to the conversation, asked that I let him read it. I knew I hadn't stepped out of line but panicked when I realized I had "let" that guy talk to me in such a way. I panicked and deleted all the overfriendly comments he made ...while Mike was watching them disappear ...not good. I had been able to overlook the insinuations because, to be honest, most men when in conversation long enough, resort to some kind of flirting. I felt like he was really trying to throw me off my points (which were coming fast and furious). "Our" men can't possibly understand how hard it is for us women to have plutonic talk with other men. Getting "hit on" during serious conversation is aggravating and ...distracting at the same time and ...they know it. I suppose I've developed a kind of desensitization, or have I?
The other problem is that sometime over the years of marital woes, I began to appreciate the attention of men. (To be honest, I've been that way since I was old enough to understand the effect a woman can have on a man, so my unfortunate husband "inherited" this "me".) I don't just mean the "get down on it" attention, but the conversation (not from married men, mind you) that recognized my intellect, humor, and opinions. It's ever so easy to give yourself away a tidbit at a time. So, was I falling into that pit again even though my original intentions were nothing but pure? Satan knows me well and sends penetrating darts of his personalized poison for me when I sway from my own "policies". I'd determined not to have any "private" messages with men. I broke my own rule in the name of defending my Christian beliefs. I could've gotten lost on the way (and obviously someone else thought so, too). That's why the Bible talks about the narrow road ...which is getting more and more narrow as I get nearer to my own end.
I've mentioned this before but I need to draw it back from the "library" and recite that the ideal defense from the act of "accepting" flirtations is to not desire the "approval" to start with. To not "need" acceptance is to be walking in line with God's will day in and day out. We are our most beautiful selves when He is shining from every aspect of our humanity. The next defense is that of having a solid reassurance of love and respect from our own partners.
The last sentence of my last blog was about trust. It's profound that my own words have been leveled against me. Mike should be strikken with doubt and is, but somehow is also enjoying the level playing field. I said it this morning and will say it again: that perhaps I should thank my Atheist "ex-friend", who lasted all of 3 days, for contributing to the onset of the most excellent evening "experience" that Mike and I have had in a couple of years. I guess we're more strange than I thought ...no, not in some twisted way but in our way of conquering the world.
Point from all this is ...God's presence is all seeing but someone else's might be, too. Keep it real, right, and ready to reveal ...because you might just be asked to ...and if you've failed to be loyal, your life could change overnight. Mine is on the upswing, believe it or not, but is so busy with sports, season change, another rash of birthdays, and attention to mental astuteness (and boys to our girls) that I can't keep up the pace with my Facebook Friends, who truly, for the most part, are my real friends. I love the ideal of balance but I have to own the ebb and flow that my life takes. While I'm "busted", I might as well slink away for a while, but I plan on coming back bigger and better.
"What's to hide, Michelle?" you ask. Well, I didn't think that much, but reading the sincere and heated debate with a hardcore Atheist in retrospect doesn't look so good. I loosened up to appear more personable. He hinted at something more than the issue at hand several times. I ignored some of it or answered wisely that my husband works hard and has been quite the fighter lately. My pitfall was a comment (to a brazen statement) made in sarcasm. I really set myself up for it with my terminology, but my reply was "sex with an atheist ...wouldn't that be an ironic downfall". I meant that he was working on entrapment to use against me and my arguments. For all I know, he already has, since it's laid out nice and clear on my husband's computer.
The real problem is that Mike, knowing all the time thatI had given to the conversation, asked that I let him read it. I knew I hadn't stepped out of line but panicked when I realized I had "let" that guy talk to me in such a way. I panicked and deleted all the overfriendly comments he made ...while Mike was watching them disappear ...not good. I had been able to overlook the insinuations because, to be honest, most men when in conversation long enough, resort to some kind of flirting. I felt like he was really trying to throw me off my points (which were coming fast and furious). "Our" men can't possibly understand how hard it is for us women to have plutonic talk with other men. Getting "hit on" during serious conversation is aggravating and ...distracting at the same time and ...they know it. I suppose I've developed a kind of desensitization, or have I?
The other problem is that sometime over the years of marital woes, I began to appreciate the attention of men. (To be honest, I've been that way since I was old enough to understand the effect a woman can have on a man, so my unfortunate husband "inherited" this "me".) I don't just mean the "get down on it" attention, but the conversation (not from married men, mind you) that recognized my intellect, humor, and opinions. It's ever so easy to give yourself away a tidbit at a time. So, was I falling into that pit again even though my original intentions were nothing but pure? Satan knows me well and sends penetrating darts of his personalized poison for me when I sway from my own "policies". I'd determined not to have any "private" messages with men. I broke my own rule in the name of defending my Christian beliefs. I could've gotten lost on the way (and obviously someone else thought so, too). That's why the Bible talks about the narrow road ...which is getting more and more narrow as I get nearer to my own end.
I've mentioned this before but I need to draw it back from the "library" and recite that the ideal defense from the act of "accepting" flirtations is to not desire the "approval" to start with. To not "need" acceptance is to be walking in line with God's will day in and day out. We are our most beautiful selves when He is shining from every aspect of our humanity. The next defense is that of having a solid reassurance of love and respect from our own partners.
The last sentence of my last blog was about trust. It's profound that my own words have been leveled against me. Mike should be strikken with doubt and is, but somehow is also enjoying the level playing field. I said it this morning and will say it again: that perhaps I should thank my Atheist "ex-friend", who lasted all of 3 days, for contributing to the onset of the most excellent evening "experience" that Mike and I have had in a couple of years. I guess we're more strange than I thought ...no, not in some twisted way but in our way of conquering the world.
Point from all this is ...God's presence is all seeing but someone else's might be, too. Keep it real, right, and ready to reveal ...because you might just be asked to ...and if you've failed to be loyal, your life could change overnight. Mine is on the upswing, believe it or not, but is so busy with sports, season change, another rash of birthdays, and attention to mental astuteness (and boys to our girls) that I can't keep up the pace with my Facebook Friends, who truly, for the most part, are my real friends. I love the ideal of balance but I have to own the ebb and flow that my life takes. While I'm "busted", I might as well slink away for a while, but I plan on coming back bigger and better.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Someone in Mind?
This has been on a napkin for days, so it's not intended for any one person. If anything, I have succumbed at times and is WHY taking it from me is plausible. My spell is newly broken and could easily be reversed without consistent guard. When we post, do we have someone in mind? Even in our wholesome way, are we trying to impress a particular individual with our togetherness? "Your favorite sin will do you in", even when it's almost imaginary with its harmlessness. If all of us out here could read your thoughts, would they be pure or ...enticing?
Admit to yourself when you've entered into a friendship that is the sacred ground of 2 other people or that of you and the person you love. Do you crave a response from that new or old interest? Are you gonna lie and say: no, she's fat; he's ugly? Hollywood divorces prove that beauty binds nothing. Friendships see far beyond the mortal. And THAT is why they are dangerous to existing commitments. This is the kinda thing we can't exactly put our finger on, sorta like soft porn, not knowing what it'll turn into until the deal is done and we're hooked.
Along the same line of thought, are any of us allowing ourselves to be a distraction, a consolation, a backup plan. Funny how I left the question off the last sentence, as if it's a statement. Do we fancy that there is a destiny, maybe a 20% chance that the current arrangements of our "friend" isn't going to change for the better? Reality is something more like 80% against us, unless, of course, we've seduced someone with no moral boundaries.
Why do we use our persuasions - feminine wiles, as well as masculine pull; our talents; our intellect; our humor ...to gain, to take, to consume, to romanticise? Why do we think we're helping someone when we're drawing them away from a vow ...into our enchanted world? Why aren't we using the genius that lies within to ...give? That means setting presidence, BEFORE we meet someone. That means keeping it open, counseling woman to woman, man to man. Don't kid yourself. You're human and fallible. Your best intentions quickly go south, unchecked. To whatever extent I've named you, I likely am worse. If all this if freaking you out, know there are others who are soberly facing an undeniable dilemma. We don't have much to call soley our own in this world; let trust be one of them.
Admit to yourself when you've entered into a friendship that is the sacred ground of 2 other people or that of you and the person you love. Do you crave a response from that new or old interest? Are you gonna lie and say: no, she's fat; he's ugly? Hollywood divorces prove that beauty binds nothing. Friendships see far beyond the mortal. And THAT is why they are dangerous to existing commitments. This is the kinda thing we can't exactly put our finger on, sorta like soft porn, not knowing what it'll turn into until the deal is done and we're hooked.
Along the same line of thought, are any of us allowing ourselves to be a distraction, a consolation, a backup plan. Funny how I left the question off the last sentence, as if it's a statement. Do we fancy that there is a destiny, maybe a 20% chance that the current arrangements of our "friend" isn't going to change for the better? Reality is something more like 80% against us, unless, of course, we've seduced someone with no moral boundaries.
Why do we use our persuasions - feminine wiles, as well as masculine pull; our talents; our intellect; our humor ...to gain, to take, to consume, to romanticise? Why do we think we're helping someone when we're drawing them away from a vow ...into our enchanted world? Why aren't we using the genius that lies within to ...give? That means setting presidence, BEFORE we meet someone. That means keeping it open, counseling woman to woman, man to man. Don't kid yourself. You're human and fallible. Your best intentions quickly go south, unchecked. To whatever extent I've named you, I likely am worse. If all this if freaking you out, know there are others who are soberly facing an undeniable dilemma. We don't have much to call soley our own in this world; let trust be one of them.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
A Little at a Time
I was in the house alone after that sweet Crimson Tide victory. Miranda and Michael went to see if they could get the old Jeep Wagoneer started in the shed. McKala was showing Macklynn how to rope ...her. Madalynn was trying to catch the barn kittens and was convinced the one that climbed the tree needed rescuing. Wait a minute, I wasn't alone; Melody was in here somewhere very unhappy after I tanned her hide for not being honest with her brother. Now, she's "bounced back" and is downstairs playing the Wii with him, while 3 of the others have gone to fill the gas can and Madalynn is throwing that puzzle together faster this time.
Vertigo started my day and now that a sore throat has set in, I know that I've been had, so I might as well sit here and write some of what I intended to night before last. In my pursuit of temperance/balance, that "little here and little there" thing, I was reminded once more yesterday in the car as I listened to "Slow Fade", one of my all time favorite songs. Then there is, "And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up," in Deuteronomy not just once, but twice. For those of us who aren't "fans" of the Old Testament, please remember that Jesus did not undo the old but made it possible to perform by grace.
I've always felt like I needed a "program'', someone gone before me who can reassure that it's attainable. Problem is that no one at no time in history has been "me". No one else has been married to my husband. No one else has mothered my children. No one has had my variables going into September 25, 2011. No one else has the elements of your life either. That leaves one Supreme Source for guidance to those of us who finally realize we're meant to live individually, not comparing to anyone but to our own best.
Specifically, you know how I feel about "teaching" a little here and a little there. I think it's the best way for the longhaul regarding anything and everything. "Bible"? I've addressed this one, too. So, how about "debt"? I get some kind of thrill paying a whole chunk of something off at one time. More realistically, paying an extra $20 or $50 steadily gets it done. "Cleaning"? It's kinda hard to know how often something needs to be cleaned, especially if it involves weather, sickness, or guests. Sometimes when I'm getting "ready for town", I just get down and clean my toilet inside and out, even though it's not an allotted scrubbing time. Maintenance is just that, "maintenance," and the need for it varies, so it becomes a mindset instead of a planned event. Today, we did a quick "sweep" of the house before watching college football because I couldn't be comfortable if someone had shown up ...while we were just sitting there. Now, if I'm feverishly doing something else, I don't always "see" the small stuff. As a matter of fact, I'm so used to scanning the floor for the sake of baby safety that I regularly miss cobwebs and dirty windows. Cobwebs are something that Mike "does" notice, so I try to "pay mind" to them. That thought gives way to marriage.
You'd just about have to not know me to not know what's gone on with mine beginning in early 2010. Mike has gone the extra mile in every aspect of our relationship since then. Thing is that I haven't. I've waited for emotions to return. I get a glimpse of them sometimes, but I quickly return to fear and defensiveness. When I do do something that I know he prefers, enjoys, or appreciates; I get feelings from seeing his satisfaction. As a matter of fact, there should be a way on the keyboard to make that wholesome grin with the bottom lip pressed up against the top. That look is really growing on me. Little by little, we are becoming a couple again. We were divorce's ideal victims. Somewhere in the middle, (truthfully, from the beginning) intimacy has not been accurate in my mind. And that thought gives way to daily physical health. In congruence of the two, I've got to mention how "neat" it was when it came to mind that I should add spices to my coffee; then I was reading an article for Mike's health and discovered that the ginger I'd considered is at the top of the list for keeping my blood thin and circulation good. I love it when God's design kicks in and we crave something we need. The fact that this spice is a "warming" one should aid me in my wifely encounters ;).
I've only held onto weight after pregnancy like this one other time. I don't "perform" in my marriage confidently when I know deepdown I'm not trying all that hard to return my body to optimum health. When I'm "holding onto" my changeable inadequacies, then I'm "holding out" on my husband. We have a frontier to conquer and I'm weighing down the wagon. I'm pleased with the little progress I've made. I believe slow and steady weight loss is the key, but it's also very easy to get off course, to think today doesn't matter that much, like there's always tomorrow ...that's what the "tempter" is best at.
Play, pray, learn, teach, maintain, make contact, make love today ...and when it doesn't go the way you planned, laugh it off and wake up tomorrow, thanking God for another day to put your best foot forward. Your best IS good enough. Only you can let you be convinced otherwise.
Progression, 2 steps forward and maybe 1 back. Regression, 1 step forward and 2 back. We forget that a frivolous purchase can mean a pattern of debt, that an extra glance can mean the beginning of addiction or an affair, that an extra bite can mean greed that we wear, that a selfish deed can start the break in a heart, that an overlooked mess can turn into filth, that waiting 'til Sunday to be fed the Bible means it's probably not "Living", that not storing up might mean the end to the unprepared, that looking past the sins of our children today will cause them to suffer tomorrow. "It's a slow fade ...people never crumble in a day." None of us are standing still. Are we moving forward or backing up? And how are the ones around us affected by it? Because we know they are, whether we take the time to acknowledge it or not.
Vertigo started my day and now that a sore throat has set in, I know that I've been had, so I might as well sit here and write some of what I intended to night before last. In my pursuit of temperance/balance, that "little here and little there" thing, I was reminded once more yesterday in the car as I listened to "Slow Fade", one of my all time favorite songs. Then there is, "And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up," in Deuteronomy not just once, but twice. For those of us who aren't "fans" of the Old Testament, please remember that Jesus did not undo the old but made it possible to perform by grace.
I've always felt like I needed a "program'', someone gone before me who can reassure that it's attainable. Problem is that no one at no time in history has been "me". No one else has been married to my husband. No one else has mothered my children. No one has had my variables going into September 25, 2011. No one else has the elements of your life either. That leaves one Supreme Source for guidance to those of us who finally realize we're meant to live individually, not comparing to anyone but to our own best.
Specifically, you know how I feel about "teaching" a little here and a little there. I think it's the best way for the longhaul regarding anything and everything. "Bible"? I've addressed this one, too. So, how about "debt"? I get some kind of thrill paying a whole chunk of something off at one time. More realistically, paying an extra $20 or $50 steadily gets it done. "Cleaning"? It's kinda hard to know how often something needs to be cleaned, especially if it involves weather, sickness, or guests. Sometimes when I'm getting "ready for town", I just get down and clean my toilet inside and out, even though it's not an allotted scrubbing time. Maintenance is just that, "maintenance," and the need for it varies, so it becomes a mindset instead of a planned event. Today, we did a quick "sweep" of the house before watching college football because I couldn't be comfortable if someone had shown up ...while we were just sitting there. Now, if I'm feverishly doing something else, I don't always "see" the small stuff. As a matter of fact, I'm so used to scanning the floor for the sake of baby safety that I regularly miss cobwebs and dirty windows. Cobwebs are something that Mike "does" notice, so I try to "pay mind" to them. That thought gives way to marriage.
You'd just about have to not know me to not know what's gone on with mine beginning in early 2010. Mike has gone the extra mile in every aspect of our relationship since then. Thing is that I haven't. I've waited for emotions to return. I get a glimpse of them sometimes, but I quickly return to fear and defensiveness. When I do do something that I know he prefers, enjoys, or appreciates; I get feelings from seeing his satisfaction. As a matter of fact, there should be a way on the keyboard to make that wholesome grin with the bottom lip pressed up against the top. That look is really growing on me. Little by little, we are becoming a couple again. We were divorce's ideal victims. Somewhere in the middle, (truthfully, from the beginning) intimacy has not been accurate in my mind. And that thought gives way to daily physical health. In congruence of the two, I've got to mention how "neat" it was when it came to mind that I should add spices to my coffee; then I was reading an article for Mike's health and discovered that the ginger I'd considered is at the top of the list for keeping my blood thin and circulation good. I love it when God's design kicks in and we crave something we need. The fact that this spice is a "warming" one should aid me in my wifely encounters ;).
I've only held onto weight after pregnancy like this one other time. I don't "perform" in my marriage confidently when I know deepdown I'm not trying all that hard to return my body to optimum health. When I'm "holding onto" my changeable inadequacies, then I'm "holding out" on my husband. We have a frontier to conquer and I'm weighing down the wagon. I'm pleased with the little progress I've made. I believe slow and steady weight loss is the key, but it's also very easy to get off course, to think today doesn't matter that much, like there's always tomorrow ...that's what the "tempter" is best at.
Play, pray, learn, teach, maintain, make contact, make love today ...and when it doesn't go the way you planned, laugh it off and wake up tomorrow, thanking God for another day to put your best foot forward. Your best IS good enough. Only you can let you be convinced otherwise.
Progression, 2 steps forward and maybe 1 back. Regression, 1 step forward and 2 back. We forget that a frivolous purchase can mean a pattern of debt, that an extra glance can mean the beginning of addiction or an affair, that an extra bite can mean greed that we wear, that a selfish deed can start the break in a heart, that an overlooked mess can turn into filth, that waiting 'til Sunday to be fed the Bible means it's probably not "Living", that not storing up might mean the end to the unprepared, that looking past the sins of our children today will cause them to suffer tomorrow. "It's a slow fade ...people never crumble in a day." None of us are standing still. Are we moving forward or backing up? And how are the ones around us affected by it? Because we know they are, whether we take the time to acknowledge it or not.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
To Raise a Son
So I posted a picture of Michael Jr's work and play clothes hanging on the porch and stated it saddens me that these kinds of clothes are hardly necessary anymore for an American boy. Maybe it sounds like I think I've got it all figured out. Posting that I've got this one (kid) doing "that" and another one doing "this" portrays an image of unfaltering industriousness. I don't wish for anyone's envy, but I do hope people will consider who their children are becoming "now" AND that children don't always age out of "phases".
No, things here are not all about baby animals, blooming flowers, rekindled romance, sweet aromas, and "all knowing" parenting. I have a "sunny" disposition with everybody, but I lose my cool with my own husband. I often have to push our children to cooperate. I was enamored for years with "classical" teaching, waiting for natural persuasions to bear results and have come out of the haze to realize practicalilty has its place and it's not on the bottom of the totem pole. Things pile up. Days go by. I forget how high my calling is. This week it struck me hard that Michael will be 16 in a little over 2 years. Realistically, I have only that time to finish impartation of what really matters and to be a woman he can respect ...as she is and not only as his mother. In the same breath, I must remember that lifelong lessons are taught a little here and a little there ...as little eyes watch to see if we mean it.
Michael went into Sheetz to get a slushie after his practice last week. At the door, he realized there was a young woman (with no particular attraction for him ;) behind him, so he backed up (with no grandeur) to offer it to her before himself. It startled her. All of us in the car giggled at them, but it stayed with me for a while - first that he did it without me whispering, "Get it," ...second that she didn't anticipate it. It seems that fathers aren't teaching their daughters to (what's the word I'm looking for? I don't care for "expect", "command", "demand") "FEEL" WORTHY of gentlemanly mannerisms. True chivalry is dying. Bravery, accountability, anonymous charity, sweat and blood are passing away from the American fabric. We aren't content with small houses and meager provisions.
Are we "grooming" our children to be what we want them to be, to be "happy", OR to have HEART to change the shriveling strength of America? Are we considering the alternatives? Just this past weekend McKala, 14, was given a serious offer to undergo equestrian training in Wyoming upon graduation, then to become staff at a children's camp here in North Carolina. It was a true circumstance of being in the right place at the right time with the right attitude and reputable history. Megan calls home from Georgia with questions still and my answers always boil down to my "right place, right time" philosophy. It's not "my" philosophy at all really; it's simply being in God's will on all levels. I foresee Miranda's future out in the "wide open" working with living things, plants and animals, but she also has an instinctive interest in history relating to current events and politics. Melody has natural musical abilities but claims she'll be an ER doctor (and does have the stomach and wits for it). Point is: I don't know what lies ahead. I don't need to know. I need to make sure they're the kind of people who will succeed with honor and lean on their Maker for understanding.
I got a sample of Michael's maturity the day after he had a football injury and I was bottle feeding not only his calves, but also McKala's. I realized one of them had the "bloats" and Michael was the only "big" kid available to me. He limped down to the stall, identified it as McKala's, and rode with me to glean information from a local farmer to remedy the complication, #1 cause of sudden bovine death. We drove back quickly, cut our garden hose, and Michael maneuvered it into the 1 month old calf's stomach to physically release the trapped air. As he dillied with it to find a new pocket, the pain he was experiencing was as evident as the growing distortion of his shin and calf. (Had we used compression it might not've been so severe.) He wasn't far from writhing and later in the ER, said the pain rivaled the 17 stitches he required when he nearly scalped himself sledding. I asked him in the stall if we needed to get medical attention right away (fearing it was broken) but he said almost in tears (of torment) that, yes, he was hurting badly but the calf was going to die, so he "had" to stay right there. Miranda arrived soon and took over so I could get Michael the comfort he needed. She successfully got the hose in 3 more times over a 2 hour span and saved its life. We brought Michael back on crutches and topped the calf off with oral penicillin and a cup of mineral oil. It was especially pleasing, after the surprising death of the one last week, to wake the next morning and not be able to differentiate the sick one from the others. Perserverance is a beautiful thing, but not quite as beautiful as the unity of a family moving into action on the behalf of another member.
Of course, Michael has "gone country" with the rest of us. We had a funny discussion about it the day he went into Sheetz and he told the girls he doesn't need to "dress" country to prove he's country. He does clean up well and pulls off a good city boy look. I like that we can transition that way ...in a way, "being all things to all people". When "God talk" goes on, I see a lot of young men who automatically jump in the box of the desire to become a preacher when they get sincere about their faith. Problem is that not everyone makes for a great evangelizer. Believe me; I've seen enough to know. Michael is not much for the 3 Rs anyway. We will cover the fundamentals. And yeah, he's sports solid, but I think he's got a little something different in store for this world.
I won't promote my own agenda with Michael, but I will recognize the obvious. By the way, I'll admit he flies under the radar, hoping to go unnoticed when a job isn't done efficiently. That said, imminent danger ignites him, sparks heat that gets him off the couch. He has a soldier in him. Ballistics, marksmanship, pyrotechnics, and weaponry put a light in his eyes like nothing else does. He watches it, does it, talks about it. I wouldn't dare persuade him of a different avenue because of my own fear. I learned all about it a few years ago watching Megan's flyovers, dipping in and out of our "hollar". We need good guys dispersed in every occupation because there are people who won't "hear" The Truth unless they "see" it lived out beside them. I tried to explain that to a Jehovah's Witness this week. People need "the real deal". If you're pretending, half committed, just stop it. Reevaluate and turn it all over to Christ ...because it is that easy.
I don't have an equation to raise your child right. The only common thread I am sure of is that God knows what well rounded means for your child and you are given the keys to the answers. Just please remember that without discipline and real work, a child won't be well adjusted; he'll arrogantly expect everyone to adjust to him. If he has no fun or reward (notice I didn't say "bribes") to look forward to after his hard work, it's all really null. If the fun never involves you, then don't expect to be much of an influence on him or her.
Funny I started out on a different course with this writing, but I was swayed to present something else, so I hope someone out there somewhere finds what they're seeking. If not, it makes for mighty fine diary documenting for me and mine.
No, things here are not all about baby animals, blooming flowers, rekindled romance, sweet aromas, and "all knowing" parenting. I have a "sunny" disposition with everybody, but I lose my cool with my own husband. I often have to push our children to cooperate. I was enamored for years with "classical" teaching, waiting for natural persuasions to bear results and have come out of the haze to realize practicalilty has its place and it's not on the bottom of the totem pole. Things pile up. Days go by. I forget how high my calling is. This week it struck me hard that Michael will be 16 in a little over 2 years. Realistically, I have only that time to finish impartation of what really matters and to be a woman he can respect ...as she is and not only as his mother. In the same breath, I must remember that lifelong lessons are taught a little here and a little there ...as little eyes watch to see if we mean it.
Michael went into Sheetz to get a slushie after his practice last week. At the door, he realized there was a young woman (with no particular attraction for him ;) behind him, so he backed up (with no grandeur) to offer it to her before himself. It startled her. All of us in the car giggled at them, but it stayed with me for a while - first that he did it without me whispering, "Get it," ...second that she didn't anticipate it. It seems that fathers aren't teaching their daughters to (what's the word I'm looking for? I don't care for "expect", "command", "demand") "FEEL" WORTHY of gentlemanly mannerisms. True chivalry is dying. Bravery, accountability, anonymous charity, sweat and blood are passing away from the American fabric. We aren't content with small houses and meager provisions.
Are we "grooming" our children to be what we want them to be, to be "happy", OR to have HEART to change the shriveling strength of America? Are we considering the alternatives? Just this past weekend McKala, 14, was given a serious offer to undergo equestrian training in Wyoming upon graduation, then to become staff at a children's camp here in North Carolina. It was a true circumstance of being in the right place at the right time with the right attitude and reputable history. Megan calls home from Georgia with questions still and my answers always boil down to my "right place, right time" philosophy. It's not "my" philosophy at all really; it's simply being in God's will on all levels. I foresee Miranda's future out in the "wide open" working with living things, plants and animals, but she also has an instinctive interest in history relating to current events and politics. Melody has natural musical abilities but claims she'll be an ER doctor (and does have the stomach and wits for it). Point is: I don't know what lies ahead. I don't need to know. I need to make sure they're the kind of people who will succeed with honor and lean on their Maker for understanding.
I got a sample of Michael's maturity the day after he had a football injury and I was bottle feeding not only his calves, but also McKala's. I realized one of them had the "bloats" and Michael was the only "big" kid available to me. He limped down to the stall, identified it as McKala's, and rode with me to glean information from a local farmer to remedy the complication, #1 cause of sudden bovine death. We drove back quickly, cut our garden hose, and Michael maneuvered it into the 1 month old calf's stomach to physically release the trapped air. As he dillied with it to find a new pocket, the pain he was experiencing was as evident as the growing distortion of his shin and calf. (Had we used compression it might not've been so severe.) He wasn't far from writhing and later in the ER, said the pain rivaled the 17 stitches he required when he nearly scalped himself sledding. I asked him in the stall if we needed to get medical attention right away (fearing it was broken) but he said almost in tears (of torment) that, yes, he was hurting badly but the calf was going to die, so he "had" to stay right there. Miranda arrived soon and took over so I could get Michael the comfort he needed. She successfully got the hose in 3 more times over a 2 hour span and saved its life. We brought Michael back on crutches and topped the calf off with oral penicillin and a cup of mineral oil. It was especially pleasing, after the surprising death of the one last week, to wake the next morning and not be able to differentiate the sick one from the others. Perserverance is a beautiful thing, but not quite as beautiful as the unity of a family moving into action on the behalf of another member.
Of course, Michael has "gone country" with the rest of us. We had a funny discussion about it the day he went into Sheetz and he told the girls he doesn't need to "dress" country to prove he's country. He does clean up well and pulls off a good city boy look. I like that we can transition that way ...in a way, "being all things to all people". When "God talk" goes on, I see a lot of young men who automatically jump in the box of the desire to become a preacher when they get sincere about their faith. Problem is that not everyone makes for a great evangelizer. Believe me; I've seen enough to know. Michael is not much for the 3 Rs anyway. We will cover the fundamentals. And yeah, he's sports solid, but I think he's got a little something different in store for this world.
I won't promote my own agenda with Michael, but I will recognize the obvious. By the way, I'll admit he flies under the radar, hoping to go unnoticed when a job isn't done efficiently. That said, imminent danger ignites him, sparks heat that gets him off the couch. He has a soldier in him. Ballistics, marksmanship, pyrotechnics, and weaponry put a light in his eyes like nothing else does. He watches it, does it, talks about it. I wouldn't dare persuade him of a different avenue because of my own fear. I learned all about it a few years ago watching Megan's flyovers, dipping in and out of our "hollar". We need good guys dispersed in every occupation because there are people who won't "hear" The Truth unless they "see" it lived out beside them. I tried to explain that to a Jehovah's Witness this week. People need "the real deal". If you're pretending, half committed, just stop it. Reevaluate and turn it all over to Christ ...because it is that easy.
I don't have an equation to raise your child right. The only common thread I am sure of is that God knows what well rounded means for your child and you are given the keys to the answers. Just please remember that without discipline and real work, a child won't be well adjusted; he'll arrogantly expect everyone to adjust to him. If he has no fun or reward (notice I didn't say "bribes") to look forward to after his hard work, it's all really null. If the fun never involves you, then don't expect to be much of an influence on him or her.
Funny I started out on a different course with this writing, but I was swayed to present something else, so I hope someone out there somewhere finds what they're seeking. If not, it makes for mighty fine diary documenting for me and mine.
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