Three Years, People!

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I realized today that it has been THREE years since I last had a carbonated beverage. That works out to 1,095 days. That’s a long time for anybody but especially for me.

My life has changed quite a bit since that day on April 28, 2012. Back then, I was gainfully employed at Affinion Benefits Group, having worked there for five years. I had absolutely no idea that less than a month later, I’d be having that meeting with HR where they’d inform me that I was being downsized.

I haven’t always made the wisest choices concerning nutrition, but I count that as one of the best I’ve ever made. I don’t really miss carbonation, though every now and then I still get a craving for one of those Mexican cokes with cane sugar. And yes, I still dream about drinking cokes from time to time. Don’t ask me what the dreams mean or why I’m still having them. That question is above my pay grade.

A lot can happen in three years. According to statistics, the majority of you out there reading this will be looking for a job in another 2-3 years, as the average job stint is now slightly longer than 2 years. So get those resumes out and do all that fun stuff like spell-checking and proof-reading and updating.

I know this will probably sound like a Sunday School answer, but I have truly found that the only constant in a world where nothing is constant is Jesus. He’s still the same yesterday, today, and forever. He’s still as faithful to keep His promises today as He was way back in 2012.

I’m trying to do better about drinking more water. Some days I do well and others– well, not so much. I read somewhere that if you cut out all beverages and drink only water with meals, you eliminate 20 percent of your calories. That’s if you want to shed a few pounds.

 

 

Has It Really Been 22 Years?

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In case you’re wondering what 22 years is referring to, that’s how long it’s been since I went on an actual date. With an actual girl. To a place outside my imagination.

At first, that thought was horribly and mind-numbingly depressing, but later I saw it as a blessing. More on that later. Back to the sad me.

I’ve never kissed a girl. And no, I have not nor will I ever kiss a dude. Blech!

I’ve never even held hands with a girl outside of prayer groups. And yes, I was one of those guys who tried to strategically place myself next to the girl I liked right before the prayer started so I could hold her hand. Notice how I said “tried.” Key word there.

But you know what?

I’m still blessed.

I’m still living my miracle.

How?

I have known nights where I didn’t think I could hold on until the sunrise. It was then I felt my Abba’s arms encircling me, holding me tight. There is not a moment when my hand has ever slipped out of the firm grip of my Father’s strong hand.

And yes, I have known the sweet kisses of grace and the embrace of mercy unfolding over and around me. I know what it is to be desired by the Great Lover and ravished by Sweet Words of Love. I know Jesus sings over me nightly because His delight is in me.

So I am as blessed (or more so) than people with far more impressive dating resumes who have found their dream-mate.

I know I was, am, and will always be the dream in God’s heart, the apple of His eye, the one He adores, and His beloved son in whom He is well pleased.

That is so much more than enough for me.