Lots to say!

How much time do you have?  I've got about twenty minutes to share with you everything I want too.  So much has happened.  SO, if I talk way to fast or ramble too much, it's just cause I'm excited (more excited than I usually am) and I want to get everything out.  I know you're sitting there going "Why don't you wait till you get off work?"  I'll tell you why, because I'll forget everything I want to tell you.  I was up at 2:44 to take care of some bizniss and almost got on the computer to tell you, so since most of what I wanted to tell you is still fresh here we are! lol

Okay, first, it does not escape me how blessed I am.  And, I don't mean that in a nonhumble way, quite the contrary.  Through the whole wonderdog ordeal, God has shown me just how blessed I truly am.  From all the post on facebook, to everyone just sending me their prayers and love.  It has been truly wonderful!  That's the great thing about having spiritual friendships verses regular ones.  I get texts throughout the day asking me how I am doing (and the family too) and that the person is praying for me.  So awesome.

Okay, secondly, Monday, I was praying to Jesus and Mary all morning.  Then, as I leave for work, the rose bush has a bloom on it.  So I thanked St. Therese.  Came home from work, still one bud, took Lizzie to the vets for the last time, came home, still one bud.  Then, we had to go to Jaime's scout thing and there were two buds!  I knew St. Therese had my back.  The vet couldn't have been more wonderful.  The whole process of leading Lizzie home was so amazing and so bittersweet.  The vet even stayed with us after the final shot.  He didn't have to do that.  Such a very compassionate man.

Then, yesterday, I go to adoration.  I needed Jesus.  I sat down in front of him like I always do.  And, my conversation to him went something like this..."Dear Jesus, Dad, I just need your help.  I know we did the right thing but my heart hurts so much.  I need a sign.  Yes, I know I shouldn't have to ask you for one, but I really need a sign.  I need to know that she's okay.  That she knows how much I love her.  And, I need to know that she loved me.  Please, don't have George tell me again.  He's suppose to say those things so it's hard to really believe him.  (He laughed at that one)."  So, I just sat there and became quiet in my head or as close to quiet as I could get.  The next thing I know, there's a tap on my shoulder.  I look up and there's this woman I've never seen or met before and she says "what is your name?"  I tell her then she says "I'm going to pray for you."  I was BLOWN AWAY!  I had my sign!  Boy does He work fast when He wants too! lol  I was so happy (but immensely tired) the rest of the day.

Sure, I still have crying moments.  Sure, I'll always love and miss my Lizzie the wonderdog, but through it all, My Dad is there for me.  He knows exactly what I need when I need it.

God is so awesome!


Whew!  Okay, that's just about everything!
Until next time,
Wish my dear, dear, sweet friend, Cindy McKenna happy birthday today!!!  She's one of God's greatest treasures :D

Love,
Me

Update

There are really no words that I have that can thank you enough for the outpouring of love we have received with our beloved wonderdog Lizzie.  Somehow, thank you just doesn't seem weighty enough but it's all I can say, so thank you.  I love you all.

As for our wonderdog, well we have news and it's not good.  We found out yesterday that it is cancer.  Most of you have already gotten a text or a call and have been absolutely wonderful.  The word is that it's just a matter or weeks, if that.    We spent much of the day in tears.  I went to the vet's to get a new prescription and I had George text me a list of questions to ask the vet b/c I can hardly remember what to ask while I'm trying to ask it.  I was so distraught, I barely got out the first question before I broke down.  I just handed the lady the iphone (as the vet was in surgery) and she went to the vet with all the questions.  They were so awesome.  One of George and my main 'issues' if you will is wondering if we did something wrong.  Apparently, that's normal.  And, no, we didn't do anything wrong or not enough.  Cancer is cancer and creeps up in animals just like it does in humans.  Cancer sucks. 

One of the blessings I received yesterday, among all that I received yesterday, happened while I was at Kroger.  I look a fright, I'm sure, as I had just spent the morning crying.  Just left the vet's where I broke down.  So, I'm at Kroger's looking for food, no meat mind you and I'm basically just wandering up and down the isles not really paying attention to what is going in my cart other than it not being meat.  In one of the isles, I came across a friend of mine.  And, in true friend fashion, she says "you don't look so good" lol  She was one of the people I texted about Lizzie.  She gave me exactly what I desperately needed.  She gave me a hug.  We didn't spent hours talking in Krogers chatting.  Just a minute or two actually and it was exactly what I needed.  Such a gift from God.  See, George was at work and while I was keeping him abreast of what was going on, we couldn't really hug it out.  God is so awesome and always, always amazes me.


Now, the kids and I, mainly Sarah and I, came up with a plan before Lizzie goes to 'the farm'.  We have been using the term 'the farm' as Lizzie knows something's up.  She knows she's not herself.  She's been at the vet's so often, I'm pretty sure she knows the term 'the vets'.  So, we talk about her going to 'the farm'.  The kids know exactly what and where 'the farm' is.  But, it makes it a tad easier.  Not much mind you, but a tad.  I learned at the vet's that people do different things.  Some, leave the ashes there, others take them home.  My other gift from God yesterday, came from my Sharon.  She sent me the most beautiful email that brought me much comfort.  And, knowing that I'll see her in less than two weeks doesn't hurt either! lol  So, here's the plan...when our beloved Lizzie can no longer eat, we will take her to 'the farm'.   Then, we will bring her ashes home and she will be placed on the bookcase.  She likes to sleep in front of bookcase a lot, so there is where she will stay. 

Not that I'm happy about any of this mind you, but having a plan helps.  It's not like I'm all excited, on the contrary, but having a plan helps.  So, now is the waiting game.  In the next week, we are going to give Lizzie the wonderdog an early birthday present.  Everything she loves to eat!  So, that will be bittersweet, but I'm looking forward to it.

So, that's the update.  That's what's going on with our wonderdog.  So, if you see me breaking down, looking sad, that is why.  We are losing a very important member of our family.

Until next time,
How's your lent going?

Love,
Me

Place witty quip here

I've never been one of those people who look at pets as their kids.  Ever.  I have kids who sometimes act like animals sometimes, but that's different. 

We had a dog growing up.  "Smokey".  He was my sisters dog.  He stayed in the kitchen on his mat.  He really wasn't a dog you interacted except to take for a walk.  He didn't play fetch or anything, just laid on his mat.  Then, one day, my mom sat me on the couch (I was in seventh grade I think) and told me that he passed away.  Not long after (or right before as my memory is a bit cloudy) my mom sat me on said couch to tell me that my Godfather, my favorite uncle was in a horrific accident and was in a coma.  I told her, I'm not sitting on the couch ever again if she asks, it's always bad new.  FYI, my uncle is okay.  He's still my favorite too.

But, I digress.  As an adult, I've had a dog, a puppy here or there that we ended up having to give up for adoption for different situations.  My one dog, sunshine, who I loved more than anything ran away and broke my heart.  I looked forever for her.  But, I've never had a dog till death do us part.

I had been wanting a dog for years.  That's what you do when you have kids, you get a dog.  Not a cat.  A dog.  I don't like cats.  While they're beautiful, they're sneaky and jump up on things.  No thank you.  Dogs only.  Five years ago I looked at different rescue organizations.  And, after a while, I found Legacy Boxer Rescue.  See, George and I know our limitations.  Raising kids takes a ton of patience which I don't exactly possess in spades.  So, training a puppy was out of the question.  We went to the local petsmart where LBR was going to be that day and there was this dog, Liddy in one of the cages.  Liddy had part of her lip tucked in her teeth.  I thought she had a jaw problem and fell in love with her on the spot.  Who else is gonna want a not perfect dog?  Turns out, her jaw was fine.  That look, which we dubbed her Elvis, was just something she liked to do.  After the application and home visit process, Liddy was ours.  We didn't like the name.  I wanted the new name to be something close so she would recognize it so we came up with Lizzie.  Short for Elizabeth.  St. Elizabeth to be exact.  It just worked out that way.

Lizzie was abused by a breeder.  We found out later that the parents (I think one was the breeder) threatened the kids if they didn't get good grades the dog would go, and go she did.  She just had a litter right before we got her.    We're almost positive that the abuser was a woman.  I say this b/c Lizzie has never really taken to me.  Well, the best she can.  She constantly give George and the kids kisses.  Me, maybe twice a year, if I'm lucky.  But, right after we got her and she got into the Halloween chocolate, it was me she wanted.  She tried to put her whole 50lb (at the time she was 50lb) body into my lap.  She knows that I'm her mama.  She would always thump her tail.  A true boxer has their tail docked.  Not her.  She has it all.  She's always happy.  Even when I would come in the room.  So, kisses aside, I know she at least liked me.

Lizzie will be nine in June.  Sadly, my Lizzie won't make it.  It is doubtful that she'll make the weekend.  See, in January, she started getting sick.  And, of course we took her to the doctors.  When I called to check on her, I was at a loss to say who I was.  I was more than just her owner.  No, I was and am, her mama.  We've made weekly visits to the doctors.  They're amazing.  So compassionate.  They never fail to tell me how wonderful Lizzie the wonderdog is.  How she's such a sweet girl.  My girl is sporting two lumps, one on her face and the other on her chest.  We're awaiting the results, but the doctor is positive at least one is a tumor.  She no longer can walk.  She hobbles and hops.  She was diagnosed with hip dysplasia.  She can't put her back right leg down.  She can't get up on her own.  When she goes outside to take care of business, she looks behind her now, a few times, to make sure I am there.  Usually, when she would finish she would run across the yard and into the house, sometimes skidding.  It was so cute to see.  Now, she hobbles...slowly.  She tries to go a little fast, but she realizes that she's different, that something is wrong.  So she sleeps most of the day.  All the anti-inflammatory and pain pills and antibiotics aren't working.  She's not getting any better.

I've been praying to St. Francis and St. Maximilian Kobe as well as Jesus and Mary.  But my heart is still breaking as is my husbands, (who is my consummate rock) and the kids hearts.  Lizzie the wonderdogMema, just this past July. It doesn't matter whether it's a person or an animal.  Hurt is hurt and grief is grief and death sucks the big one.  Yes, I know she'll be out of pain.  Yes, I'll know she'll be in a better place.  But me, and my family...we'll still be here, mourning her loss, always loving, and always missing her.

I know it's silly, but this past week, one of the things that brought me a smile was a rather open debate on animals and souls and heaven.

All I can tell you is that it made me smile.  I don't know if dogs go to heaven.  Fr. Tim has the answer.  I remember years ago, he said the answer in his homily.  And, the truth is, if the answer is "no", I really don't want to know.  I'm choosing to believe, that when I eventually pass away (probably from a broken heart), that Lizzie will be there, thumping her tail, excited to see me, and give me lots of kisses.  Until then, I just hope she knows how very much and how very deeply her mama loves her.  That while she is not my child, she is not just a dog either.  "What then, is she?" you ask.  She is mine.

Until next time,
love each other.
Love,
Me

Movies, Music and Lent

As I mentioned a few posts ago, I like movies.  Scratch that.  I love movies.   When it comes to movies, George will tell you that I have no taste (he forgets that I picked him! lol).  Sure, I love some movies that everyone else does.  But, I also am not a fan of others that got rave reviews...i.e. LA Confidential (how Kim Basinger got an oscar is beyond me!  I say it should've went to Minnie Driver) and Gone With The Wind...SPARE ME!  I've learned to tell people "I appreciate it for the cinematic masterpiece that it was for it's time" but HELLO, talk about a downer of a movie!  Depressing!  One thing after another goes wrong and no happy ending!  I also watched movies that people found funny, but I just ended up feeling bad for the main character (There's Something About Mary and Meet the Parents).  While I found moments of funny, I didn't find them laugh out loud, just sad for the person being made fun of.  Yes, I know it's a movie and all acting, but still.

Lately, I've watched a movie that won a Razzie award.  For those of you who don't know what the Razzie's are, it's an award for the worst movie, actor, actress, et al of the year.  It's the anti-oscars.  I watched the movie called All About Steve.  Now, George will tell you that the only reason I like it, is because it stars my friend Sandra Bullock.  No we're not friends in real life, but in my head, yes.  I'm also friends with Jennifer Aniston.  I will not see anything that has Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolie in it.  Home wreckers, I tell ya!  You want to leave your wife, be a man and leave your wife, don't cheat on her.  They don't need my eight dollars.  Well, neither does Jen, but I've got her back, lol.  I also won't see anything with Tom Cruise in since he went off the rails.  But, I digress.  I've love Sandra Bullock and her movies ever since she did Love Potion no. 9 waaaaaay back in the day.  Sure, some weren't her best (28 days) but I don't think All About Steve is one of them.

Her character, Mary Magdalene Horowitz, resonates with me.  She works at the local newspaper as the person who creates the crossword puzzle.  Therefore, she knows a lot.  She also knows a lot of useless information, minutiae.  She meets a guy through a blind date set up by their parents and she basically follows him.  Thus, becoming the butt of the joke, the main part of the story.  She took his initial words "I wish you could come with me" or something to that effect, literally.  But as I watched this movie, I saw myself in her character.  She talks a LOT.  She talks just about as much as Anne Shirley in Anne of Green Gables.  She talks as much as I do.  At one point, when she's in the turning point of the movie, the feel good part, she says "words have meaning.  Words hurt."  And, later in the same scene, when in a rant she says "he was my ticket to normal."  Then, when asked, "why do you want to be normal?"  She says, "I don't".  Those lines stuck with me.

The first quote about words, it made me remember my teenage years and how being on the receiving end, words hurt.  Then, as I thought more, I realized this lent thing.  It's a lot of work.  Sure, I can be easy and just go through the motions, but Jesus didn't go through the motions when he went on the cross so...My words hurt just as much as the words I heard when I was a teenager.  I talk a lot about my work and the couple people that like to cause drama.  I like to say "I don't gossip, so listen good the first time", and I mean it as a joke, partly.  I can get sucked in to the drama fairly easily.  I can easily get on the bandwagon and joke (not really joking) about these people.  Then, there are days when my faith comes into play (sadly, not everyday) and I try to resist talking about these people.  I have gotten better, though.  When they irritate me, I bite my tongue and say a Hail Mary.  When I want to say something, I smile and nod and say a Hail Mary.  But, sometimes, most of the time, my humanness comes through and I fail.  Becoming who I was created to be is hard.  And, then I remember, it's not suppose to be easy, just worth it.

The second quote, about being normal, I loved b/c I'm not normal.  I spent my entire childhood and all of my twenties and part of my thirties wanting to be normal.  Then, St. Jude's and chrp made me realize that I am normal.  I'm my version of normal.  I dance to the beat of my own drum.  Heck, I have my own orchestra.  Then, they're are songs about not being normal like "Make your own kind of music" by the Mama's and the Papa's or "Pork and Beans" by Weezer.  "I Don't Want to Be" by Gavin Degraw and "Free to Be Me" by Francesca Battisteli, and a whole host of others.  And, to be quite truthful, I don't think normal exists.  Sure, everyone wants to belong.  Everyone wants to fit in.  Somewhere.  It's just finding that group of people who appreciate you for your uniqueness that's not easy.  But, eventually, we find them, even Mary Horowitz.

Lent is about being who I am, just a better version of myself.  Lent, is about being who God is calling me to be.  And, the coolest part is that even when I falter, on a daily basis, as I always do, He still loves me.  Whether I eventually become who He is calling me to be or not.  Whether I become the world's version of normal or not, He still loves me.  He will always love me. 

So, if you get a chance, watch All About Steve.  No, it's not the greatest, but it's enjoyable. 

Until next time,
Be yourself.  Don't worry about what the haters say.  As long as you like you, that's all that matters.  And, hey, I like you.  Just, the way you are!

Love,
Me

Drama, Bob and Forgiveness

Wow. I know it's been a while. And, I've had so much to tell you! But, as usual, when I sit down to tell you, it doesn't seem all that important now. The last few weeks have been busy, busy, busy! Work drama and family drama--Maria is now sporting a boot on her left ankle. It's a sprain, she'll be fine. Lizzie the wonder dog has been pretty sick and now diagnosed with hip dysplasia. Jaime left this morning for his Band trip to LA (cue, LA is a great big freeway, put a hundred down and buy a car in a week maybe two they'll make you a star). I miss him already. And, it is my very favorite time of year...LENT!!!

I spent some time at one of my favorite stores on Wednesday. Sacred Heart Books and Gifts in Plano. I went to get one thing and I didn't spend a ton! lol I love it there b/c it's not a store where you can run in and out. It's so peaceful. I stayed for about a half hour. And there, I found something I really, really wanted to share with you. I thought of you as soon as I saw it.

I looked it up when I got home. It's called the Holy Spirit Cross. Now, I'm sure there's a dove above the cross, I just didn't see it to take the picture. All the ones I found on the web have one. But here's what struck me...look to the right, under Jesus' left hand. See how God's hand is holding Jesus? That struck me. You can't see it in this pic as Jesus' hair is blocking the way, but God has a moustach. Huh. Never knew that. I've never pictured God. I mean, I talk to Him. He's my Dad. But, I've never pictured Him or thought about what He looks like. Jesus, that's easy. I've seen Him all my life. But God, pretty cool to have an image. Now, I'm not saying that's what God looks like, but this artists interpretation I thought was pretty cool.  Oh and for all of you that I keep telling and never get to see it...look under Jesus' ribs, under His heart...its the outline of Mary!  You can see the outline of her Mantle!

I stood there for a while just looking at this cross. I even made it my desktop background. There's something about it that is just stirring to me. It looked at first, like God was the cross, but as I looked more, He is on the cross as well. God is truly always with us, in every joy and every sorrow.

Speaking of sorrow. When I pray the Rosary (not as often as I should) I realize there are four more mysteries, but I am always drawn to the sorrowful ones. For those of you who don't know, or don't remember, the Rosary is Jesus' life. It's all the Gospel's in one. It's Christmas and Easter all in a prayer. It's beautiful. The sorrowful ones focus on the Passion of Christ. I just am drawn to them. I don't know why I like those over all the others they're great also). Check them out sometime! And, speaking of the Holy Spirit, I wanted to share with you and the world, just how COOL BOB IS!!!! On Sunday, my class took a tour of the church and then went back to class. We talked about confession again, since there was confession that afternoon. I have a student who hadn't taken advantage of this sacrament since the third grade. I talked to the class, specifically her, about going. I've mentioned it to her before, but today I said "If you want, I'll go with you. I won't go in, but I'll go with you." And, she said "yes"! She and her friend and I went to confession. She had a bunch of questions and Bob and I answered them all. Her friend asked if I had an examination of conscience from the retreat. I said no, but I had the iconfession app! lol Some of the parents laughed. I told them look it up, it was approved by the Vatican! It's a cool app! So I left my class in the very capable hands of George and my aide and took the girls to confession! Afterward, the student said she felt better! I was flying high the rest of the day! Bob is so amazingly awesome! He never ceases to amaze me!

Then, there's another picture I wanted to share with you. It's one of my very favorites...

This picture just stirs me. Look at Jesus'hands. See how He is not just holding the guy? He's grasping at him as if to save him. He's grasping at him to hold him up. Now, look at the guy. See the remorse in his face? See his feet? See how they aren't even holding him up? That guy, he's the Roman soldier who nailed Jesus' to the cross. The picture is called "forgiven". It's so beautiful. Just look at it. Really look at it. What does it stir in you? Me, it makes me feel loved. It makes me feel that forgiveness, His forgiveness is truly real. It's not just words. If Jesus can forgive the guy who nailed Him to the cross, if Jesus can forgive St. Peter for denying Him, He will forgive me for all my transgressions. Forgiveness, it is truly real.

In this season of lent, I wish you peace. I wish you growing and stretching to whom He is calling you to be.

Until next time,
Sit with Jesus for a while. He, and I, miss you.

Love,
Me
Lent is a time of growing and stretching and being reminded of who we are called to be. As I told my friend yesterday while we were having a particularly trying moment..."He never said it would be easy. He only said it would be worth it!"

Movies, Books, Fr. Tim and Zombies

I love movies. No really. I love watching them. Some of my favorites I've watched what seems like a gazillion times. I love quoting movies, referencing movies, you name it. One reason (one of like a bazillion) I fell in love with George was that when we started out friends, we both liked an obscure 80's teen movie that I could watch with no volume and do the entire dialog (Some Kind of Wonderful). Over the years, I found that there is a movie quote to fit just about everything I'm feeling at any given time (to the kids "you're killing me, Smalls!" from The Sandlot to various ones that George and I just love or found hysterical "I'll see you when I see you or I'll see you another time" from I Love You, Man.) There's quotes for breakfast (usually said after breakfast but technically works after any meal.."I could of had churriso and eggs!" from Midnight Run hysterical movie).

To no surprise, our kids love movies too. In fact, years ago, we created the movie game we play at dinner. One person will come up with a movie quote and whoever knows it raises their hand. Quote person calls on someone and whomever gets it goes next. This results in either a)bouts of laughter (most of the time) or b) irritation and yelling b/c insert name of kid here is never calling on me only insert name of other kid and my hand was up first (sometimes). On the whole though we have fun.

There are quotes that hit close to home that remind me of me. My CRHP sisters will tell you...."If you only knew how much I want to say but don't! Give me some credit will you!" Anne Shirley from Anne of Green Gables.

Sometimes, well, lots of times, I do movie quotes in my head. I was at work the other day and someone said 'garnish' and in my head I said "That caviar is a garnish!" from You've Got Mail. I cracked myself up. I learned a long time ago that not everyone gets my humor. They can appreciate it sure, but not always get it.

I remember growing up watching movies and the feelings that were tied to them. We watched the Sound of Music every year around Thanksgiving. Why does Rolf turn out to be a tool? Sheesh! I remember watching The Great Santini. We couldn't watch that movie very often it was pointed out that The Great Santini was a mirror image of my father. Meh. Depends on the day or his mood. While he wasn't always the greatest or Ward Clever, he wasn't exactly Bride of Chucky either. I learned very quickly that I don't like scary movies. Suspensfull, yes. Scary, no. I loved romantic movies, comedy's, drama. They were an escape for me from the perils and pitfalls of being an awkward child/teenager looking for acceptance.

As I grew up, I fell out of movies somewhat and more into books. Historical romance books to be more specific. Most anything by Julie Garwood or Jude Deveraux. I love how they were usually set in Ireland. How the hero didn't look like a perfect Norse God. No, he usually had some sort of scar on his face that rendered him unattractive. The women are always strong, but don't realize how strong they are at first. These books became great escapes for me. Then, I came to St. Jude's Catholic Church. The more I learned about my faith and myself, those romance books gave way (not entirely) to books about my faith and Catholic studies to deepen my understanding of who I am, why I'm really here, and what is expected and asked of me. Some days this brings me much joy. Other days, not so much.

I've taken to reading (what is now one of my very favorite blogs) from Fr. Tim, my beloved Priest http://frtimsreflections.blogspot.com/. They make sense to me and I enjoy them. Except when I notice myself in them in not a good light. I mean, who wants to look in the mirror and see a zombie looking back at them? Today was such a day. In the blog he writes "Unity is not an achievement that, once accomplished, it decorates the trophy case. It is a choice made every day. “I choose to love you with the differences that we embrace as opportunities to love.”" How do I do that? There are people I see that I don't like. At all. That as my Mema would say are full of piss and vinegar. I work with such a person. Seriously?! Seriously?! In order to further God's plan, I have to love this person or embrace her as an opportunity to love? What the flagnogg (from Monsters vs. Aliens!)

But then, as I ponder those words, I thought Does God realize what He's asking me to do? Does He see the unfairness of the situation! Then Bob (for you new readers, Bob is the Holy Spirit. He and I are on a first name basis). Gently reminds me how God sent His son down here. How Jesus was not exactly well loved by everyone. How when He did nothing wrong, His death was called for over that of a known murderer. Yet Jesus loved everyone, even through the unfairness of it all.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am not saying I am like Jesus. Not even close. I am a sinner, He was not. But what I think is cool here is that God and Jesus both knew what was going to happen. That they saw the unfairness of it all. That they had to deal with hate. Yet, Jesus chose to love everyone. How could I not at least try to do something that God is asking me. And, it's not like He's asking just me to do it. No, He's asking each and every one of us. So, that really isn't unfair then, is it? Sure, I have to go to work in a situation everyday that is totally unfair. But I am called to love this person. So, I've decided there are different levels of love. I can love her b/c she is a child of God. Hey, it's a place to start, right?

And, sure, it would be easy to say I've "suffered enough for the heaven of heavens" from the Song of Bernadette. But who hasn't? None of us have had perfect lives. No, that perfection will come in the next life. Sure, I can dwell on how bad things get, or I can look in the mirror and when I see the zombie staring back at me, I can choose to change the zombie back into the child that God created. After all, aren't we all a work in progress?

Until next time,
I wish you some zombie moments for that is when we begin to change.

Love,
Me

What a weekend

So, I just spent the weekend with eighty 13/14 year old girls. And, I lived to tell about it!

God is amazing! There is no other way to say it. These girls, some my girls (either my child or in my class) are just amazing. We arrive there late at night on Friday, about 10pm. The other chaperons and I are exhausted. The girls are tired. We get into our cabins and get ready for bed (after the introductions and welcome by the amazing Pines staff). There's two chaperons and 20 girls to a cabin. One would think that they would be so exhausted that they'd go right to sleep. One word be wrong. Oh so very wrong. lol The lights finally went out around 20 after twelve in the morning and by twelve thirty all were asleep.

I'm not the best sleeper, my loving husband will tell you this. I get a few hours a night. I wake up constantly to go to the bathroom. And, mind you it's not a quick in and out type thing. The business I have to attend to is a relatively quick memo, not a long report. However, when I am done with the memo, I go to wash my hands. This is where my OCD kicks in. I wash my hands. Dry them off, and on the way out of the bathroom, realize I forgot a line in the memo and write it. Then wash my hands again. This process happens about three times. Then, if I'm washing my hands (always with soap) and my fingers hit the back of the sink under the faucet, I have to wash them again. At times, this routine can be very frustrating. This weekend, I woke up at two to write the memo. They have automatic paper towel dispensers that make me feel like a Jedi. However, at two in the morning, no amount of waving your hand in front of the sensor works b/c it's almost completely dark. Luckily, I found some paper towels on the sink. Then, Saturday night, I got wise and took the flashlight with me and shone it on the dispenser and Jedied the dispenser once more :D I washed my hands about a thousand times this weekend. What made the ocd worse is that it was well water. Why was this a problem? B/c it feels like the soap is never off your hands! lol

My favorite part of the weekend (there are so many! Confession, adoration, the Eucharist) was this hill. For those of you on the weekend who are reading this, you probably thing I am now certifiably insane. I complained the ENTIRE weekend about this hill and now I'm telling you it's my favorite part. My Carol will tell you how much I hate walking with God. It's HARD! My idea of roughing it/camping is a hotel with warm towels, heated pool, and room service. Walking with God is not like that. It's beautiful, but hard. Much like labor. It hurts like crazy but then joy follows. But, I digress. There was this hill. It was steep. It felt like I had to walk that hill every five minutes (not actually, but in Gina time that's what it felt like). Halfway up the hill (mind you it was steep but not a big hill) my knee would start to really hurt. And, as I walked the hill with the chaperons I would say things like "my butt better be smaller by the time I leave here!" or "every time I go up this hill I better be losing a dress size!" I also told the girls I only run when being chased. And, when lagging behind, I said "I only have to be the second slowest, not the slowest." At one point up the hill late Saturday afternoon, I turned my backside towards a friend of mine and asked her if it was getting any smaller. No such luck. lol The point here is not that I complained. Which I did. In spades. But that I did it. I hated this hill. I hated it with all that I have in me, yet I walked it. I needed to climb it to get where I needed to go. That's like walking with God. Sure, it's hard, but as I've said before, the company is awesome. He get's me where I'm suppose to go.

Saturday night was rough and I texted my Patti goodnight (as she was on the trip as well but in a different cabin). In saying our goodnights,I shared with her some things and she told me to talk to Mary about it. That Mary would take care of me. That night, I poured my heart out to Mary. I silently cried to her and I fell asleep talking to her. Although I still got up once to go to the bathroom, it was the best sleep that I had had in weeks. Mary covered me with her love and held me in her Mantle.

God showed me a lot about myself this weekend. Not that I'm a complainer. I already knew that. But, he showed me true friendship and pure love. He showed me His grace and His mercy. He showed me beauty. In no short supply, He showed me Himself. He is constantly reaching out to me. I just have to take His hand. God is good all the time.

Until next time,
I wish you many steep hills with God. They are amazing. Feel free to complain.

Love,
Me