Some heavy cream & skim milk= Half & Half

So this afternoon, as I was waiting in the middle school parking lot, I had a good cry and spoke with a irreplaceable friend.

Aside: My friend is incredible. It is truly hard to find a friend who really "gets" me (if I can be excused for using such a term). A few years ago when my heart sister (again excuse the juvenile term) moved away, I was torn apart. I don't give my heart easily, and for her to leave was a crushing blow. For several years now I thought I would not find another person who could love and accept me like my Dallas bound friend. But I was wrong. God brought another friend into my life who, like Dallas girl, understands me. Both of them love me and my quirks, my strengths, my thoughts, my innermost me. Neither one is afraid to tell me when I'm wrong. Or that I have a giant booger hanging out of my nose. But more than that, they don't love and accept me in spite of my weaknesses, they love me for them--as part of who "me" is. Remind me in moments of lamentation how fortunate I am to have been blessed with two friends like that.

She felt my indignation and heartbreak, encouraged me, and got me back on my feet. I dried my eyes quickly and smiled before the kids came out. They got in the car, bouncing with exciting middle school news ( all about "Mr. So & So, and Mrs. So & So who had her gallbladder out today, and this kid in gym class....."). As I listened I turned contemplative.

My son brings me to uncontrollable giggles and makes me cringe in fear. I see so much of me in him. This is the conversation we had driving across town to drop my daughter at dance:

"Mom, I don't like motorcycles."

"Oooo, I do! But I understand, because it can be scary."

"No it's not that. It's just that I don't ever want a motorcycle."

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm afraid that I would want to be reckless and drive crazy--you know, when I'm a teenager."

I love it! He cracks me up! That is exactly like something I would say. That conversation was the catalyst for deeper contemplation of my sweet, no-so-little boy. Like me, he is fiercely loyal. Once he chooses to trust you, he will give you his all; however, don't take that lightly. He does not easily forgive betrayal. And thus begins the cringing. That is me. Is it hereditary? Or has he watched my actions? It has taken me years (or I guess I should really say it has taken God years to teach me, to drag me kicking and screaming in my indignation) to learn how to become more forgiving. I don't give trust lightly. I don't give my secrets, my heart lightly. I take betrayal very seriously. It has taken much work, many hours, and gallons of tears to be where I am today. I have already seen this tendency to react severely to betrayal within friendships and the one boy/girl relationship he's had. Whether or not someone has truly betrayed him is really not relevant. His perception is key. And again I cringe.

I hope for him that learning forgiveness comes more easily to him than it did to me. Something in his favor is that his history is not my history. Although his life has been far from perfect, I believe, I hope, he has fewer obstacles to overcome than I did.

Father, please let him walk an easier path than I.


On the lighter side:

I don't think I'll ever be able to keep my purse clean. I try! I really do! But it doesn't matter how many old receipts, old tissues, wrappers from who knows what that I throw away, the next time I take a peek inside, it's filled again. Ah well, just accept it MJ.



I was in the bathroom at work today, and I looked in the mirror. I made a startling discovery! My face has gotten so fat that I have jowls. ARG! *sigh* I've decided never again to look at my whole face all at one time. The small compact mirror I carry in my purse shows only enough of my face at one time to fool me. If I look at just one part of my face at a time, my eye for example, I look quite beautiful and definitely not fat. Not fat eyeballs here. Thank You Annie, for my tool of deception!