Shredder...Finally!

I bought a shredder! I've talked about doing it for a couple of years now. I know. It's not a big purchase. Why did I wait so long? I have no idea. I didn't think about it while at the appropriate stores, I guess. But I have one now! It's great! I used to make stacks of shreddable papers to take to work to shred there. Or I would indulge my pyromaniac side and light a match, hold over the sink, and burn the account number or whatever else until water was required.

Not any more!

I own my own! It is sitting proudly plugged in, already about half-way filled with it's first load of little white strips.


I love life's simple pleasures.

Words of Praise

Why is it so hard to accept praise? I don't mean when we've worked hard for something and are given hard-earned accolades. Neither do I mean the condescending kind that comes with a "good work" pat on the back. (You know what I'm talking about!) I mean, the unexpected kind that you feel unworthy of.

I was given a compliment today. At first I was in shock. "He's kidding, right? or somehow mocking me." That was my first thought. But I know this guy a little bit, and he's not the mocking type. I deflect the compliment and move on. But no, he does not receive my deflection and brings the spotlight back to me. At this point, I'm uncomfortable. I feel there are at least two others there that are MUCH more deserving of his words than I am and yet he's ignoring them to shower me. I stumble through some sort of acknowledgement and the conversation takes a natural turn.

A little while later, it comes up again! I try to turn the compliment to those that are more worthy. He does not allow me to do so. Instead, he puts both of his hands on my shoulders and repeats his words. I know he was trying to get his point across, to impress me to receive what he was saying. It wasn't even that big of a deal. The topic I mean. So why couldn't I just say thank you?

This incident made me think of Christ. My complimentary friend is a Christian, so it is natural that he is shining for Christ. I'm not sure if he was being intentional in that regard or not, but my thoughts went towards Him nonetheless. I'm not worthy of Christ's love. I feel like dirty rags in his presence. I wonder why He is showering me with His love. There are times I try to deflect it. Other times I put it off on other people. Sometimes I even refuse to acknowledge it at all. I know this hurts Him, yet I cannot seem to help it! Eventually Christ puts His hands on my shoulders, looks me in the eye and impresses me to accept His love. It is not forced, but the knowledge of His love is made perfectly clear. His desire to love me is known. I then bask in it. Humbly crawl towards it and say "Thank you, Lord!" for that is all there is to say.

The reason I'm not married...

I've been recently informed the reason I'm not married is because I do not make out enough. I was politely told if I would simply make out with random men, then I would be married by now.

Much better!

We've all been forced to scrunch ourselves into one of the miniscule airport chairs for a long period of time while we're absolutely exhausted. I was in this situation on Monday in the Chicago Midway airport. I had a 3 and a half hour layover. I'd been up since 3 that morning to catch my flight and, due to odd sleeping patterns, was working on about 2 hours of sleep. When wonder of wonders, my bleary-eyed gaze comes across one of these...
ah, bliss.

What a mess!

My sister just jumped in the shower. We're running a little (2 hours) later than we intended and are trying to get out the door. As soon as I could tell she was in the shower, I went in to do some things in the bathroom (yes, girls do this all the time). I stepped in a quite large and quite cold puddle of water. What?! I quickly realized that the shower liner was not inside the tub (the person that last used it must have taken a bath instead of a shower) and the water was cascading all over the bathroom floor!

What a mess!

Scary!

I was sitting in my parents' living room, chatting with Mom. Angela listening to our plans for the holidays (as always, they revolve around my school schedule) and looking at the calendar with us. Dad comes from the kitchen and bangs on the open connecting door. We glance up startled and quickly realize he is trying to get our attention because he's choking! Talk about heart stopping!

Mom starts doing the Heimlich and I stick my fingers down his throat to dig out as much as possible. In a matter of nanoseconds we realize we need help. I call 911 and we send Angela next door for the neighbor. (Mom is smaller than Dad and having trouble giving the Heimlich. Our next door neighbor is a larger man.)

We've got Dad's arms up and I'm pounding on his back while giving our pertinent info to the nice (and calm!) lady that answered our emergency call. Meanwhile his lips are turning blue and he's bright red and pale white all over his face. Throughout all of this, he's coughing up pieces of chicken. Before Angela even gets across our front yard, it all comes out and he begins to breathe normally. Still on the phone, we cancelled the paramedics and began wiping tears.

Man, talk about scary!

This situation reminded me of God's love. I mean, the entire thing happened in about... five minutes maybe? But it is something I will remember forever. God's love is about second chances. It is about starting over having learned a new lesson. Sometimes a lesson I have to re-learn again and again, but learning it nonetheless. Sometimes the particular lesson is that I am loved. A simple one, but extremely emotional at the same time.

I am loved.

On the road...again?

I haven't even been home a week and already I'm leaving again! Don't get me wrong. I'm excited about visiting my parents in Dallas and Julie in DC, but this is a lot of traveling for a girl that likes home! As much as I love summer and the fact that I don't have to get up before the crack of dawn each day, I think I will be ready to go back to work. Just so I will have a routine again!