Well, I didn't really want to turn 26, but I did it anyway. Then again, I didn't want my birthday to come and go without me turning 26, because that would just be messed up. And, I have to say, so far 26 is alright.
I had a short business meeting in Shreveport yesterday, so with all the driving and such, it was almost like having the day off. Then, I treated myself to a drive-thru daiquiri before going out for crawfish with a big bunch of friends, because, really, what fun is it to live in Louisiana if you can't have the occassional drive-thru daiquiri and a big pile of crawfish?
Good times.
*Charles Dickens
1. Do you live in a house, an apartment or a condo?
A green house - not to be confused with a greenhouse, although my plants are looking better than ever, but I think that's because I live with a hortaculturalist.
2. Do you rent or own?
rent - nothing like throwing that money away each month
3. Does anyone else live with you?
Micah and Sarah (and a few birds in the attic)
4. How many times have you moved in your life?
A lot. Ten times, if I've counted correctly. You would think I was in the millitary or something. (I'm not.)
5. What are your plans for this weekend?
I going to lovely Nacogdoches to spend time with the fam.
Okay, I'm finally caving: I want a free iPod Shuffle. Don't you want to help me? Come on...tomorrow's my birthday, so you have to be nice to me. Here's what you should do: Go here and complete 1 offer. Please. I'm begging you. It's for the kids. (Okay, I made that last part up, but it would put a smile on my face if you would help.) You want me to be happy, right?
I guess it's the looming birthday. Maybe it's the recent conversations I've had with a few people about the past and the future. I suppose it could be too much interspection. Whatever it is, I've been thinking a lot about the future and what it might hold for me. Okay, I'll admit it: I've not only been thinking about it, I've been worrying about it. What am I going to be doing 6 months from now? What about a year from now? Five years? Should I plan to buy a house in a few years? Should I move away from Monroe? If so, where? All these questions have been on my mind lately.
But God has a way of sending strange messengers into my life. A few weeks ago, I got a note from someone who, I'll be honest, I didn't really want to hear from. But that one little note that I hesitantly read, reminded me that worrying does nothing and that God has always taken care of me in the past and will continue to do so.
Then yesterday, an amazing thing happened: I was sitting in my office working, when this little old man came in. I figured he was looking for someone else and needed directions to their office, but instead, he came in and sat down at my desk and started asking me questions about his mortgage. I was annoyed at first, because this man was not a customer of my bank and I had Important Work to Do. As he started telling me the details of his case, I figured he was either lying, crazy, or just badly confused. But I listened. He told me all about how he had paid his home off in the 60's, but had refinanced to save his business when some of his employees at the car dealership he owned had stolen several cars and left him high and dry. "But the Lord provided for me then, and I know He will now," he said.
He is 80 years old. He told me his life story. When he was 5, he really wanted a bicycle, but knew his mom couldn't afford it. Then he saw a bike in the trash pile in "the white neighborhood" where his mom worked for $2.00 a week. He asked the lady of the house if he could have it, and she said he could for $1.50. His mom scraped the money together for him, and he got his bike and repaired it. "The Lord always provides," he reminded me.
He went on to tell me how becaue he had that bike, he was able to get a job. For 3 years, he rode that bike back and forth from home to the car dealership where he worked from the time he was 8 until he was in his mid-twenties. He started out at $6 a week: a sum he could barely comprehend. He began washing cars and later learned all about mechanics, so he could help provide for his mother and sister.
I could go on with more stories - he did - about World War II, and now, taking care of his wife, who is ill - and every part of the story, I would be thinking, "there's no way I could deal with that," he reminded me (with a big smile on his face) that the Lord provides.
This is the kind of story I'm usually really cynical about. Working in a bank has made me really skeptical of sad stories, because, frankly, a lot of people make stuff like that up to tug the ol' heart strings and try to get a loan that -this time- they're going to pay back, even though they've never paid back any other creditor. This man was genuine. He wasn't telling me about his trials to make me feel sorry for him. He was rejoicing at the hard providences that had made him a better man.
Unfortunately, his mortgage problems were nothing I could really help with. I gave him some advice that will hopefully get things straightened out for him. He left thanking me for all my help. Little did he know what an encouragement he was to me. He was right - when I look back over times in my life when I just couldn't imagine anything good would come out of it, I can now see an abundance of good things that have come about.
Mr. Fox was right - the Lord always provides. May He continue to provide for Mr. Fox...and for you and me, too.
My computer at home has been possessed by the prince of darkness. I can use my computer at work but while I'm at work, well, I'm working (present moment excepted, of course).
Self-tanner is not a good look for me. If I wasn't so afraid to put it on my face, it might look a little better, but right now, I have darkish (for me), slightly steaky arms and legs and my normal glowing neon-white face. If I could find some self-tanner that was a little lighter, it might look better.
Most summers, it doesn't bother me to have such fair skin. I've learned to be fairly comfortable with it, but sometimes I wish I was just slightly darker. It really got to me in junior high, when all the other girls would go lay out in their back yards coated in Crisco (I'm not kidding). They would come to school crispy at first, but it would turn into a great tan. I didn't need the Crisco. I can burn without the aid of any partially hydrogenated substance. But I'd go lay out so I could be like all the other girls. I'd burn. I'd peel. I'd turn white again. It's the story of my life.
By the time I was in highschool, I'd learned the value of sunscreen. I'm not saying I didn't get burned every year, but I didn't actively invite it as I did in junior high.
Now, I try to get a little sun here and there - you know, Vitamin D, and all - I don't want to get the Rickets. I'm not trying to get tan, though. I know it's a lost cause. I was hoping that this could be the summer of self-tanner. I don't want to be especially tan, just tan enough to take the edge off. I guess some things just aren't meant to be messed with: you don't tug on Superman's cape, you don't spit into the wind, and you don't try to make skin this white look tan.
Get out your sunglasses. I'm back to the glow-stick legs.