Random Item A:
Well, the big news that I have not been allowed to blog about yet (since September, folks!) is finally out. Yay! My baby sister is getting married! For the record, it has not been a real secret. We just haven't wanted to spread the news around the W.W.W. yet. Lots of people made guesses about it, but since I am the gatekeeper, I didn't publish their comments. (By the way, you might notice that I don't ever publish any comments on the other blog that mention this blog. That's only because I want to keep this one personal and separate from work.)
Random Item B:
I am feeling very nostalgic about Jackson's birth. I just look at this little man running around my house and I cannot believe how my life has changed in the last two years. I keep thinking about being in those childbirth, infant care, and breastfeeding classes with Janelle and Sunni and our hubbies. We had no idea what we were in for. And even a year ago, we couldn't have imagined how much the babies would grow and develop such distinct personalities from then until now. I feel so blessed to have an almost-two-year-old. This is my favorite stage by far. It really does keep getting better.
Random Item C:
My mom is teaching Breaking Free in Houston this semester. It got me thinking about all the things that happened in my family's life in the years that led up to that study. I generally look at the whole of my life and think of it as having been very happy. But I guess today I took a close look at everything that went on during my high school years - everything that the enemy threw our way - and those four years were unbelievable. Unbe-stinking-lievable. Not in a good way. And the things that happened in those years weren't even sin-induced crises. I think they helped lead to my own sin-induced crisis, but that's another story.
What is weird to me now is that I don't remember ever crying out for help. I don't remember talking about the pain I was in or about how stressed out my heart was. I think "stressed" is a good word for it. I know I talked to my parents, but I kept a whole lot of that away from them. I didn't confide in any youth worker and ask for prayer. There were some that reached out to me, but I refused. I felt so sad this morning when I realized that. And it wasn't for lack of friends or godly adults who would listen. I just didn't open up about the real stuff. Maybe I did those things, but I can't really remember them. In fact, I remember trying at about age 15 to train my heart not to ache. I felt pathetic for hurting. Man, that was healthy! Why on earth did I do that? I kind of want to go back and beat my teenaged head against the wall. It's funny because I would never do that now. I am all about talking it out!
Another person's head I'd like to beat against the wall? Well, he's not an actual person. I won't do him the honor of mentioning his sorry name in this blog post, but I'll be very happy for the day when I see Jesus beat his head against the wall of hell. Even though we turned out alright and we saw God's faithfulness, what he did to us stunk. That is not even close to a good enough word for it.