Tag, I'm it! - Bible Style

I was tagged by my Dad the other day and thought I would do a different twist on it. The tag was to pick up the nearest book, but I decided to go downstairs and grab my Bible instead to see where it would lead me. Here were the "rules"....
Pick up the nearest book, (of at least 123 pages). Open the book to page 123. Find the fifth sentence. Post the next three sentences. Tag five people.

I opened my Bible to the page and it was the book of Leviticus. I thought the rules said fifth paragraph when I first read it, so I had already decided to do that by the time I reread the rules and realized my mistake. But then after a few minutes I realized I was on page 125, not 123...maybe I need to put my glasses on. But seeing as that what I read really spoke to me, I think it's best to stick with that. Besides, it's actually shorter to do the paragraph than it is to do the few sentences.

You shall not hate your fellow countrymen in your heart; you may surely reprove your neighbor, but shall not incur sin because of him. You shall not take vengeance nor bear any grudge against the sons of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself; I am the LORD. Leviticus 19:17-18

It's amazing what reaches out to me at the time I need it. Last night was particularly rough on me when a customer I did a dog adoption with last week came in and started going off on me, accusing me of things that I didn't do. It certainly didn't help that a few other customers were around watching the whole thing...and those who were interested in adopting dogs promptly left the area. When she left, I cried for a couple of minutes, wiped my face and held a puppy to cheer myself up and comforted myself with the knowledge that I did nothing wrong. But last night I started brooding over the situation and I couldn't fall asleep for a bit because my mind kept wandering the things I could have said if I was just that bold and could care less about being fired. I kept telling myself "stop brooding, Mary" but my mind kept going back to that moment, and I could feel myself getting angry and again I was thinking of snarky comments I could have told her. Eventually I was able to focus on a much happier thought and it was enough to get my mind off the situation...moments later, I finally fell asleep.

This morning when I read this passage because of my mistake in reading the tag rules, I couldn't believe how timely it was. Do not hate, do not take vengeance, do not incur sin because of the person, do not bear a grudge...what powerful words! I wasn't wrong in feeling hurt or even upset that someone would treat me in such a way, but I was wrong in brooding over it and I was wrong in allowing my mind to come up with "put you in your place" comments. It's a reminder to me that I can do nothing on my own...I need God to be able to stand up.

It was a huge relief to me when after reading that, the grudge I bore against her was no longer there. Deep in me, I knew that the quick-growing bitterness was wrong, but I think I needed that clear, in your face passage to really point it out to me. Instead of remaining angry at her, I'm now just saddened for her. What is going on in her life that makes her so angry that she takes it out on me? I don't know, but I pray she finds the healing she needs.

Perhaps my mistake in reading the rules wasn't a mistake after all.

Let Her Eat Cake

Last week was a bad week. On Monday I had a huge endometriosis flare up that lasted a few days. Wes said perhaps I should go back to the doctor since the flare ups are getting worse and lasting longer. This, of course, means surgery. But because we can't afford surgery, my options then become either bearing with the pain or going back on birth control to help alleviate the pain. Birth control is obviously the choice I don't want being that we want children...but I'm so desperately tired of being in so much pain every single month. So while it was a back and forth of dealing with pain and discussing my disdain for the possibility of returning to birth control, the week crept by until Saturday was here.

There was I was, sitting at my desk working my shift for the Humane Society when a girl who is an employee at the store I work out of comes up to me and says "I'm having a girl!" I respond, completely clueless, "you're having a girl?" Yes, she says, she's five months pregnant and thought everyone knew! Apparently I'm the only one in the store who didn't know. So she's all "yay! I can buy pink things" and all I could squeak out was a "congratulations" for the unwed mother. It certainly didn't help when later that night as I was throwing out the trash, I saw her smoking a cigarette.

Then Sunday happened when during prayer request time in Sunday school, I found out that a couple was pregnant for the third year in a row with their third child. I about lost it and right after prayer I had to make a dash for the bathroom before I started sobbing right in the middle of the lesson. One church sister hugged me right after Sunday school while another one reminded me that talking about things might help make whatever the struggle easier to bear. But how do I tell someone "yeah, someone else is pregnant and I'm not" without coming across like some bitter jerk? So I just remained quiet. Wes came a moment later and simply said, "babies?" to which I nodded yes. He put his arm around me and I buried my head in his neck in an attempt to hide my crying face from the rest of the church. But in my attempts to not draw attention to myself, I guess I wound up drawing attention to myself. Another church sister hugged me long and hard, which was greatly appreciated. Though not completely myself, I was feeling better by the end of church service.

I told Wes that I wish I could just be happy for people but it's so hard. I am happy for them, but at the same time, I'm just so angry. Not at them, it's not their fault that I can't have children. I'm just angry at the situation I find myself in. I'm unable to relate to the young, married women of the church since they either have children or they're about to have children. I feel lonely in the conversations that revolve around kids and while I usually use the time to strike up conversations with the men, I feel lonely in that sense too since several of the men are seminary students and are discussing things that I can't necessarily relate to either...and there is where I feel lost since I've always found it easier to talk to men since the conversations are seldom about kids. So this once talkative woman now finds herself awkwardly silent...completely clueless as to how to converse with people anymore. And to everyone who says that children will come my way...that's pretty easy to say when it's not your tubes being blocked by an incurable disease and you're not sitting there wondering how on earth a country expects people to pay $30,000 in just a few months to be able to give a child a home. I told Wes that maybe for part of his applied ministry class, he could work on a ministry that reaches out to those struggling with infertility...but then I corrected myself since the ministry would only really reach out to me and him in this small church of ours.

But then there are times I don't get myself because certain moments leave me feeling grateful to not have children. I mean, I doubt I'd be able to go to school in the fall and start fulfilling my dream of working with elephants if I was currently pregnant or already had a baby. But then I think to myself that surely I'd be able to do both...right? Ok, let's be honest with myself, I probably wouldn't be able to do both. Which dream do I pursue? Which dream do I let go of? Do I let go of the dream of motherhood and have to explain for the rest of my life why I don't have children? Or do I let go of the dream of working with animals while silently craving that time that "could have been"? Why can't I have my cake and eat it too? Why do I have to choose?

It's my birthday on February 9th. I'll be 27 years old. When I was in my early 20s, I figured I had so much time ahead of me. Now I'm in my late 20s and time is running out for this endo-ridden body. I'm going to get myself a cake for my birthday and eat it. I guess in light of not being able to have that option with life decisions, I can at least do it for my birthday. Though every year passing reminds me more and more of one dream slipping through the cracks, I will do my best to celebrate it. I just find myself at a loss on how I'll do just that.

Photo by Mary King (me)

Twenty Eight Years Old

Actor Heath Ledger died today. Technically yesterday, I suppose, since it's 1am here. It caught me off-guard really, which struck me as odd since I'm not exactly this huge fan of his. I liked him in A Knight's Tale and somewhat enjoyed Casanova...and only recently found out that the hideous picture of The Joker was actually him. And yet I couldn't turn away from news reports and I found myself sad over the news. Possibly because it's a name I know, possibly because I realize that as I get older, I'll recognize more and more names of people who die (when I was younger, I hardly knew any of the names), possibly because of the fact he's leaving behind an 18 month old little girl who will only know her daddy by his movies and interviews...but honestly, it wasn't until Wes said something that I realized why it struck me so much. Heath Ledger was 28 when he died. Why is it that his age is what got to me? And what comment did Wes make that made me realize why his age was the thing that made me sad? Wes said, "he was my age." Wes rarely has anything to say about celebrity deaths. The most he ever talked about one was Steve Irwin. Not that Wes went on about Heath Ledger...that was really all he said on it. I doubt he meant it to be as personal as it sounded, but it's quite something to hear of a person your age die...it makes you think about your own life. What if it were cut short this very instant?

My heart grieved for Ledger's former fiancee, Michelle Williams. I realize that they were no longer romantically linked, but she's still the mother of his child. She is 27 years old, the age I'll be in two and a half weeks. That makes her my age. I'm sure our similarities end there. But I couldn't imagine me, a near 27 year old, hearing about the death of my 28 year old husband...the man I share my life with. What would I do? I know the pat answers about being strong and moving on, blah blah blah. That's a lot easier to say than actually live through. I hated those answers when struggling to deal with the grief over my grandfather's death. But this would be my husband. I realize that he would be in heaven, but there is a real devastation over losing your spouse....the person you've become one with. It's no longer "one"...but tragedy struck and tore it in two. This is part of the reason why I've become so afraid of death.

What saddens me even more is the evidence that Mr. Ledger was not a Christian. We know how this story ends. And there is where the story differs between 28 year old Heath Ledger and 28 year old Wesley King. I thought to myself several times this afternoon and evening, "Heath knows the Truth now, whether or not someone shared it with him." It breaks my heart that there are people who only know the Truth upon death. Wes and I are blessed beyond belief to be saved by the grace of God. We absolutely don't deserve it. But for us there is hope, there is a peace we have...there is life for us. So if I were to receive word that my husband passed away, I know where he'd be. That wouldn't make life on earth without him any easier, but at least there is hope in the midst of devastation rather than a hopeless devastation. It boggles my mind that God would choose to save broken and poor Wes & Mary, rather than rich, famous, and influential Heath Ledger. And it's an eye opener too, because I sometimes sit here frustrated at how easy these celebrities have it...never needing to worry about money, not living paycheck to paycheck, not having to put off taking care of a medical concern because of finances, adoptions are expedited...it's enough to make me want to cry sometimes. But then something like this happens and I'm reminded that Wes and I have been given something far greater than any of that. Why us? Why did God choose to save and protect us? I don't know. But boy am I glad He did!!

Twenty eight years old. That's my husband's age. That's Wes. Life is so short.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed and am going to snuggle up next to my husband. There just doesn't seem enough of a lifetime to do that.

Photo by Mary King (me)

Finding "Home"

Wes and I visited Gainesville, FL last week to tour the school I'll be attending in the fall. It's a congested college town, home to the University of Florida and Santa Fe Community College (where I'll be). And while it wasn't this great town filled with lots of stuff to do, nor was it anything close to resembling an actual city, I really did like it. It's kind of a center point for many things, with the Ocean, the Gulf, Jacksonville, and Orlando each a little over an hour away.

Aside from Gainesville, we also took a day trip to St. Augustine, which is along the east coast of Florida. We walked along St. Augustine beach while I dipped my feet into the Atlantic Ocean (seen in the picture). The town was so beautiful and historic, largely untouched by commercialism like so many other popular beach locations in Florida. Yes, there was still some touristy stuff, but it seemed more like the snowbird and local Floridian tourist spot rather than the spring breakers. As we walked along the beach, I was just so content and told Wes how I cannot wait until we have our dog Jiko again and can take her walking along the beach with us (the entire town, including the beach, is extremely pet friendly) while we enjoy crab cakes and lemonade.

Wes and I have desired to move to Florida since we first honeymooned there in 2000. We feel so at home there...the heat, the lush beauty (I love the sight of palm trees)...it even has a distinct smell to it, most likely coming from the vegetation. Ok ok, and also possibly due to the fact that it's home to Walt Disney World. But seriously, Florida just feels like home to us. So being able to visit where we'd eventually be living was so awesome...so peaceful...so homey. I have become increasingly excited about our upcoming move which is only a few months away!!

I love that feeling of peace that God gives...the one you get when you know you're at home. Not that Gainesville will be our permanent home (as we will likely move to Pensacola for a couple of years after I finish up at the one school before finally settling into Orlando), but it's just Florida in general. And now I have to wait to go home...and that's the hard part. But it will be worth the wait!!

For more details on our trip to Florida, visit my other blog.

Photo of the Atlantic Ocean by Mary King (me)

Just.Need.Sleep.

I apologize for not writing in some time. Holiday season is a tough time to be in retail, and it makes my free time few and far between. And the free time I do have has a couch calling out to me with a mug of hot cocoa and a movie I've already seen a gazillion times.

I'm so tired, it's not even funny. I'm not getting enough sleep, and even when I get a full 8 hours, it feels like I haven't gotten any. It's increasingly more difficult to get out of bed in the mornings to get to work...particularly with these holiday hours. And if all of my on calls are used next week, which I'm anticipating they will be, I'll be working 50 next week. And my second job wanted me to work an extra shift next week on top of that (to which I had to decline). It wouldn't be so bad if it was all at one job. But getting up really early in the morning to work one job, and hopping on a bus to work until night at a 2nd job is really taking its toll on me. In only a couple more weeks, Christmas will be over. I hate that I am not enjoying the season as I should be and that I'm losing focus on what it's all about. But these customers really wear me out....because it certainly doesn't help that customers try to convince me of what a horrible person I am just because they can't remember that Christmas is always on December 25th.

Our Christmas program at church is in a couple of weeks. I'm part of the singing ensemble, I'm part of a drama, and I'm singing a solo. I'm trying to memorize it all, remembering if I should harmonize here or there, who I speak my lines after, and not mixing up the words with "Oh Come All Ye Faithful" with "Oh Great Light of the World." I was practicing my solo with Scott and between being embarrassed that I hadn't memorized the song yet, and that I still am not comfortable with the key it's in, and the frog in my throat, I wanted to just sit there and cry. I got in the car with Wes after practice and said "I did awful" convinced that the guy who is playing guitar for me who knows music is going to regret letting me sing, especially when practice is followed by the question of "so how do you think practice went?" (you know that question that's asked rather than coming out and saying "yeah, you didn't do so great." But that's no one's fault but my own). But how did it go? Umm, in a nutshell? Just kick me out of the program now. It will save everyone a lot of trouble. But all I could say was "it's getting there," silently hoping that the words might be true. It's not that the Christmas program is too much to handle. Hardly. I've memorized and sung way more than this before due to being a vocal music major in high school, so this is not beyond me at all. I just don't sing much anymore, particularly after I had a hurtful experience in a previous church that had me packing up and hiding my vocal chords. This is the first time in several years I'll be doing a solo and I'm terrified I'll be going through a deja vu.

And then there's all the school stuff...just not believing in myself. Believing I'll fail public speaking and I haven't even attended orientation yet! Freaking out about the possibility of feeding a live rat or mouse to a snake in herpeculture. I don't mind snakes at all, in fact I quite like them, but I truly love rodents.

Why am I experiencing so much self doubt lately? I keep telling myself that I can rise above this all. But I feel broken down and defeated. What should be a joyous time of year is becoming quite a trying one...and they're obstacles that seem somewhat trivial. But when they're one right after another, it's enough to make me want to sleep away the entire season. Todd preached a message last month on being joyful in our trials and the message has replayed in my mind over and over again. I recently asked God to help me find that joy.

Then last week we took Eggnog to the vet and discovered his bladder stone is gone. Our baby is not crying out in pain every few minutes just to use the bathroom and he's gaining back the weight he lost. This stone was too big to pass on his own and yet it's not in his little body. Our vet smiled big at us and said "Merry Christmas." In the middle of so many little things going wrong, God gave us a Christmas miracle.

It's been a daily battle for me here to not give in. It has helped me to keep thinking back to last Thursday when I nuzzled Eggnog and told him over and over again how happy I was for him. And tonight, I picked up Mocha and whispered to him "just be with me, I'm so worn down." As if he knew what I said, he kissed my nose, plopped down on my chest, and promptly fell asleep, breathing in and out with my arm wrapped around him. It was 20 minutes of peace.

These aren't exactly the examples of joy that are being referred to in James when he says "consider it all joy." But it was like God was providing a very tangible way for me to reflect on it. It's really hard to find my confidence, let alone joy, in the midst of all this self doubt....especially when I know the problem is with me. It's not some external problem that can be solved so I don't have to deal with it. But I know God will use this time so that when I look back, I can remember how God pulled me through. And I know God will use this time to mold me and to have me grow in Him. There is joy in that.

And really, I'm excited about the Christmas program. It has helped me maintain some level of sanity in the midst of a season I hate to work.

"Consider it all joy." I'm really trying.

Little Wonders

Our lives are made in these small hours - these little wonders - these twists and turns of fate. Time falls away, but these small hours - these little wonders still remain.

Back in June 2004 I had the opportunity to participate in a tour at Disney World called "Dolphins in Depth." The three hours was devoted to learning about the dolphins, their anatomy, their training sessions, and their conservation (and conservation of marine life in general). Approximately 30 minutes of those three hours were spent in the water with the dolphins. I had always wanted to simply touch a dolphin. Touch one, that's it. And here I was, in a wet suit, in the water with two dolphins. There were eight of us on the tour and we split into groups of four and each group was with one dolphin. While my group was rubbing down a dolphin, he opened up his blow hole and sprayed me in the face. A couple of teen girls from the other group saw and were "eww"-ing themselves to death, while I stood there laughing and smiling. We all received photos of us and our dolphin and after the tour ended I told Wes that nothing could ruin my day. I couldn't stop smiling and my cheeks hurt tremendously. When I brought the photo to work after returning home, one of my coworkers commented on how truly happy I looked. I can honestly say that it was one of the happiest moments of my life and thinking back on the experience still brings tears to my eyes. Some people have looked at me like I am crazy..."it's just a dolphin and it was just 30 minutes!" But it's a really big deal to me.

I have wasted too much of my life looking for the next grand moment...the moment that will sweep me off my feet and take my breath away. You know, the moments that are Grand Canyon-like where my husband all of a sudden transforms into the hero from some chick flick where everything he says and does is perfect. But that isn't reality. The reality is that my husband and I are both sinners and we don't have someone writing a script for us where we can always say the right things at the right time. My life isn't a series of one grand event after another. It's a series of small events that have grand meaning in my heart. Yes, there are grand events that have happened in my life that were truly some of the best moments of my life. Getting married would be one of them. But I've also found that I need to pay attention to the little moments...the moments that may mean nothing to someone else or may not last very long. I can't let the moment pass, I need to treasure them because I can never go back in time and relive that moment. Sure, I may have similar experiences in the future, but I will never relive that exact moment in time.

I am camera happy and one of my favorite photo subjects are my guinea pigs. I spent about an hour on the bed with Eggnog one day as I snapped photos of the two of us together. Not the easiest thing to do when you're holding the camera with one hand and you have a critter who is anxious to explore. So many of my pics came out blurry. But I love them because it captured a moment we had together...a moment that I felt peaceful and happy. My favorite picture of that day was captured right when he licked my nose. It's horribly out of focus, but I don't care. I will never forget the feeling I had when he turned to kiss me. The same is true for the little moments I share with Wes. I'll never forget the feelings I have when I get an email from him, or he picks a little flower for me, etc. Those moments just seem to make the bad go away.

Grand moments are awesome, but it's the little moments that make up most of our lives. We need to focus on them, not ignore them while waiting for the next big thing. Don't just stop and smell the roses. Study that rose, know it, remember it....cherish it.

All of my regret will wash away somehow,
but I cannot forget the way I feel right now.

Dolphins in Depth photo by Disney
Eggnog & Mary photo by Mary
"Little Wonders" lyrics (in italics) by Rob Thomas

What time is it?

I'm currently reading Terri Irwin's book called "Steve and Me: Life with the Crocodile Hunter." It's such a bittersweet book, reading about all these happy and lovely memories, but knowing ultimately how it's going to end. One part caught my attention in specific...when Terri and the kids were in Tasmania and Bindi had purchased a new watch. Out of nowhere, Bindi looks down at her watch and says "it's twelve o'clock." They all stopped to consider that it was twelve o'clock and moved on. Soon after, Terri received the news that Steve was killed...and time of death had been twelve o'clock, the moment Bindi looked at her watch and called out the time. Earlier in the book, it was mentioned how Steve had fallen off a piece of machinery as though something knocked him off...it happened to be the very moment when his mother was killed in a car accident.

I thought back to the day my grandfather passed away. How we received the phone call from one of my aunts around 4:30am telling me his breathing had changed and we needed to get out there. We got up, got ready (and I grabbed extra clothes so I could stay with my family a few days), and headed out. Being that the drive was around 45 minutes to an hour, we had to stop at a gas station since we were low. I was feeling quite panicked, and found it difficult to even breathe. While Wes was pumping gas, I looked at the clock...5:15am. All of a sudden a wave of sadness came over me. The panic was gone, I could breathe normally again, but I was overwhelmed with sadness. We finally arrived at the house around 6am or so and my mom came outside to meet me. She told me he died at about 5:15am.

And even though I never knew this man personally, I can recall all the details going on when I learned of Steve Irwin's death. It was late and I was tired and was ready to go to bed. Wes was already asleep and all the lights were off and I was on the computer wrapping up. I was about ready to shut down the computer when I just felt an urge to stay online for another hour. Being that it was already around 12:30am, there wasn't exactly a lot happening in the online world so it made no sense for me to think that I needed to stay up that extra time. But the urge remained so I played around on Yahoo games for awhile, bored out of my mind and wanting so bad to go to sleep. Approximately an hour later, I got off the games, refreshed my home page and a picture of Steve Irwin appeared with a blaring headline that read "Crocodile Hunter feared dead." A few minutes later, another headline appeared confirming that it was, in fact, Steve Irwin who died. While he had passed away over a day prior to the headline appearing, we were just receiving word of it in the States. I remember covering my mouth so I wouldn't wake up Wes with my sobs. But it brought me right back to when I was sitting at a gas station, looking at a clock that read 5:15am.

It's a bit eerie, isn't it? To have a moments in which you don't know why you're noticing something or feeling something, but you just notice it or feel it. But sometimes I wonder if this is God preparing us for moments that we need to be ready for. Moments that can rock our world, moments that seem to suspend reality for us...is God cluing us in to what's ahead? And don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about some psychic ability. That would be absurd to peg me as that kind of believer. But I am not ruling out the possibility that God can and some times does do things that are clues to what we need to be ready for...particularly if it's something that will deeply affect us.

I had no appetite when my grandfather died. We all went out to eat that day as a big family and I couldn't finish even half of my meal. I remember a comment being made to me that I should eat since someone else was paying for me. But I just couldn't get the food down...otherwise it would come right back up. I could barely sleep for days and when I did sleep, I had dreams that haunted me. Though I never knew Steve Irwin, I cried for days on end after his death...being that what he did was something I felt so deeply about. I'm sure many of those tears were also from unresolved grief over my grandfather. However in the midst of both of those situations, and others, I was comforted by the knowledge that somehow, at particular times, I had been prepared. I was prepared for a storm I was about to face. I won't sit here and pretend that my sadness over Steve Irwin is matched with that of the rest of the Irwin family. Hardly. But I bring it up because of my own experiences of noticing the time of things...and seeing how others have experienced it as well when it was mentioned that Bindi took notice of the time.

Do I believe that God will always give me some divine revelation prior to an event or right at the moment of an event when I haven't yet learned of it? No. But I do believe there are times when God gives us a sign in order to prepare our hearts...as if He were saying "there's something you need to know...here's a small insight." And not that I believe there's something going to happen every moment that I want to know what time it is...but I've also learned to not ignore something God is very clearly putting in front of me.

Photo of tv preview by Mary King (me)