Alert and Oriented (x4)

Anyone who has read my blog has probably determined (from all 10 or so of my posts) that I am obsessed with Yorkshire Terriers. I've wanted one for at least 20 years. But limited finances and the farm kid in me can't pay $900 for a dog. Especially a dog that doesn't herd cattle, guard my door or do my dishes and cook for me. The first Yorkie I ever experienced was way back in the day when I was a supervisor for America West Airlines. At that time, AWA did not allow onboard pets, kenneled or not. A young woman (old teen? 19? 20 tops?) had smuggled a teeny tiny 6 week old Yorkie pup onboard in her pocket from El Paso. It was a red-eye going from ELP to ABQ to LAS and there she was changing plance and ending up in Portland. She smuggled it in her pocket. We're talking about a 20 oz. puppy here. And the flight attendant caught her. My thoughts were that since she was already enroute, to let her go ahead and take it...it was SO little...no one would ever have known the diffe

When I fall short, when I sin (which is an archery term that means "to miss the mark") I tend to do one of two things (and on reflection usually BOTH of them, in this order): 1. Justify (It wasn't my fault; I only did it because ________; At least I didn't kill someone, drive drunk, beat my kids, have an abortion...you get the idea) 2. Berate myself over and over again, obsessing over what a loser I am and wondering what God should do to punish me. Now, I miss the mark quite often. It's usually not intentional. I say usually here, because frankly, sometimes in the heat of the moment I give way to anger and vent and in that moment it feels good. Really. Good. To. Yell. And then immediately afterwards the dialogue in my head starts in: "How do you expect God to forgive you? You are never, ever going to get a handle on this. You blow it all the time. What kind of wounds are you inflicting on your kids?" Even after I confess and repent, this nagging little

....with 10 of my closest friends. Friends who hold me up when I can't hold myself and make me be accountable when I'm holding on to something I shouldn't. Friends who are my soft place to land and my safe place to tell my heartsongs to. Friends I can cry with, I can laugh with, I can be with without having to be on guard. It occurred to me as I looked around the room at these beautiful women that because I can count EACH of them as friends, true friends, I am probably among a privileged few (I'm guessing less than 5%) who have so many they can call "Friend." God ministers to my heart through these women and we all take the most tender and gentle care of each other. Here's to you, ladies....you are captivating. You are valiant warriors. You are beautiful and wonderful and all I want to be when I grow up. You are hot mommas. You are some of God's best works....I love you all!

Ok....I'm a sucker for reading and chocolate, so I'm posting the meme from Linda , aka Lidna.... 1. List three things you would do with a chest full of gold (assuming you got to keep it!) I would give a bunch of it to build our new church building/community center, I would put my kids thru college and I would get a little tiny Yorkie 2. List three charities/missions/organizations you support (and why). My church, Compassion International, most anything that supports servicmen & women, including fire and police 3. List three ways you have volunteered your time/services. Youth ministry, lots of church stuff, band/soccer/track/(any school thing my kids are in) boosters 4. List three things you keep "hidden" when company comes over. All the stuff on my desk gets thrown into a laundry basket and put in my closet, I hide the Guitar Hero remotes and I spray all the doorways with pledge so it smells like I've been dusting. 5. List the last three things you've lost

First off, I have to tell you how absolutely stoked I am (yes, stoked--I am a child of the 70's): Linda from http://www.2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com/ (I can't figure out the cool html stuff and Amy's busy now) visited my blog and left a comment. I could just DIE! I think we are TSAB....both mid 40-ish, ministry assistants, Yorkie lovers, moms of teens, trouser jean afficionados.... Speaking of Yorkies, try hard, REALLY hard to envision this: Momma's got her check from Uncle Dub. Momma's got 4 chillun's. Consequently, in part because of said chillun, Momma's check was p-r-e-t-t-y nice. Momma's check's already in her bank account. And I found THE absolute bestest cutest of all time Yorkshire Terrier puppy the other day. One ear points up, one tips down. I named him Spike. He's just a little ball of love-fluff-furkid that I could just scoop up and take home. But I didn't. (See Momma weeping and gnashing her teeth here). Momma jus