witty

My Mac Fund

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macbook-pro

Note: the following is in jest. I hope you won’t take any of this seriously (unless you’re feeling REALLY generous).

I’ve started my Mac Book Pro fund. Obviously, the idea is for me to FINALLY buy a Mac and end the days of PC frustration forever. Also, I will be 20% more hip. Alas, me not being able to grow a proper beard cost me 20% hipsterness so these would cancel each other out.

I accept all major forms of payment (and even the minor ones, too). I accept Visa, Mastercard, American Express, Checks and (most of all) CA$H. I do like CA$H.

I’m hoping that writing these blogs on a Mac will make me 20% more creative and witty and (hopefully) profound. I’d be able to get my Mac on (and not in a super-creepy stalker-y way- nooooooooooo)

But seriously, what I want for Christmas is to be content with what I have. To live in gratitude and thanksgiving. To know that if I have God and nothing else, I have as much as if I had God and everything else.

I’d also like some whirled peas. Think about it for a minute and you’ll get it.

 

On a Night Like This 2

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image
Guess where I am? No really . . . take a wild guess.

Downtown Franklin, you said? How ever did you guess that? It’s not like I go there at least once a week, right?

Oh wait. I do.

I had the new Court Yard Hounds album as the soundtrack to my trek from the Brenthood all the way to my favorite place on earth. And it’s not Disney World.

I had my favorite meal, corned beef and cabbage, at my favorite place to eat, McCreary’s Irish Pub. Just about everybody knows my name there, and I love it.

I detoured from my usual next step. Instead of shlepping over to Frothy Monkey, I hoofed it over to Sweet CeCe’s, where they did not, as usual, have my very favorite flavor– Southern Sweet Velvet a.k.a. Red Velvet. I nearly cried.

Not really. I just got Hershey’s Chocolate instead and managed to not fall over dead from extreme disappointment. Life goes on.

I got in my Quality Frothy Monkey Time, don’t you worry. I sipped on fruit tea and got caught up on my annual Bible reading plan.

This year, I’m reading through the New American Bible, a Catholic translation complete with all the deuterocanonical books. Or apocryphal, if you please. I read through most of Job, quite a bit of The Book of Wisdom, and a few chapters from Luke.

My lesson from Job? It’s better to keep quiet and make your friends wonder if you’re an idiot than to open up your mouth and prove it.

The Perfect Weather continues. It really feels like a sneak preview of fall, soon to arrive after another stint of hot stinky humid weather. And more rain. I’m eagerly anticipating the changing colors of leaves, crisp morning air, bon-fires, hayrides, corn mazes, good conversations with friends old and new, and– best of all– for Jesus to once again dazzle me with His love for me.

I may check out my favorite house to make sure the current tenants are taking good care of it for me. I may suddenly burst into a Dave Barnes song. You just never know with me.

I think the reason that I’m not filthy rich is that I’m already quite attractive, extremely witty, and brilliant. I would be most unfair for me to add immense wealth to that. So I stay broke as a kind of public service to all of you out there who would otherwise either die of mortal envy or perish from lusting after my hot bod.

God is whispering sweet nothings to me in the night air. I can feel His love and pleasure over me like a sort of comfy old blanket that keeps my heart warm. May you feel the same.

My you know fully the love your Abba has for you this and every night to come.

Baggage Part I: Letting Go

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Who doesn’t have baggage? I certainly know I do. I’m pretty sure anyone who is over the age of 5 and who still has a pulse has accumulated some kind of baggage over the years.

What is my baggage? Probably right now, I’m carrying around the constant need to be validated, affirmed, approved, and liked every single moment.

I find myself at the end of conversations thinking I’ve said or texted the absolute wrong thing and ruined the relationship. Things like, “Did I really just end the conversation with ‘Text me’? Is it even possible for there to be a lamer ending to a conversation?”

I think I let go of a little bit of my baggage tonight. I think I’ve finally come to the point where I may not trust myself to keep my relationships alive, but I know that God will keep the right people in my life for as long as they need to be there.

I’ve mentioned before that I am a work in progress. I’m 4o and my dating history reads like a black comedy or a tragedy (either one works, so take your pick). I haven’t had a real girlfriend since I was 5 (her name was Carrie, by the way).

I think I’m more comfortable with my own path and not trying to hijack God’s plan for someone else. I’m learning to enjoy the process and the journey and not be so OCD about the destination.

I think I’m learning that I don’t have to be clever or witty (or even overly coherent) for God to speak through me.

I’m finally learning to be patient with my own process and who I am becoming. I’m more patient with the shortcomings of others, because I’ve seen so much of my own and I’ve seen how very strong God can be in my weakness.

What is your baggage? You have a choice. You can either hold on to your shame and guilt and fear and anger or you can hold onto Jesus, but you can’t hold on to both. And yes, I borrowed that one from Mike Glenn.

You don’t have to carry that baggage forever. You don’t have to let it define you or be a pemanent part of your wardrobe. It all begins with saying, “I can’t do this anymore. I need you, Jesus, to take this and carry it for me.” It may be a process, but it’s so much fun to feel the weight fall off.

May you find that what you’ve carried all this time is one day no longer a part of you. May you find more and more freedom in Christ. May you hear and believe the words at this very moment that “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Amen.