There are only four things I’ve ever wanted to be. Well, that’s not completely true, I’ve wanted to be many things including: a fire fighter, police woman, bionic woman, wonder woman, teacher, and a country singer on the Grand Ol’ Opry. I was planning on being the next Loretta Lynn, but I wasn’t a coal miner’s daughter; I was a World War II veteran & retired plywood mill worker’s daughter. That never fit into a song quite like I needed it to. One of my earliest memories is of me sitting in my slanty-floored kitchen on a little yellow chair (that I still have out in my garage) and singing to my parents. I sang of how much I loved them. I realized today that my singing praises to them paved the road to praising Jesus. They were my world and it was so natural to sing of such things about them. Why is it more difficult to do the same thing with Jesus when He loves me a bajillion times more than my parents even could?
So, what I meant to say is that there are four things I consistently wanted to be when I grew up: a wife, a mom, a picture taker, and storyteller. Those last 2 are hugely influenced by my hours and hours of looking at the family photo albums and making up stories about the people in the pictures. Then later I was influenced by all the biographies I read back then. I always wanted to have an exciting life so that I could write a book all about me. Millions of young girls would line up to read my book(s). I have since realized that my life is pretty boring. No major challenges to overcome. I haven’t had to hide away in an attic during the war, or hidden any persecuted people in the walls of my home, or traveled west to explore the great beyond, or survived in an igloo for months on end. (Although that last one sounds like it has the potential to be either boring or exciting.)
I don’t know what to call myself. I am a mom. That’s not doubt. Not sure if I’m a good one or a bad one, though. I am still a wife, but not currently functioning as one. Does that even make sense? No? Well, my husband and I are not divorced, but we aren’t living together as a married couple. We’re not even friends right now.
I realized today that I have lost a couple of my good friends. They’re not completely gone or misplaced, but they’re just not as present as they once were, both physically and emotionally. That saddens me greatly.
I also realized today that I have made a new friend in my Spanish class that has met Jesus. She was once a living zombie, but He gave her life. It’s a beautiful story.
I don’t have a conclusion to this entry. Just felt like writing one.
And now for a completely unrelated photo, I bring you this:
Check out the cookie hanging out on Lenn’s shoulder. Why is there a cookie there? And what is he doing with his hand? These are questions I’d ask if I weren’t so afraid of the answer.