I had a blog post all laid out in my head about this afternoon’s trip to Victoria’s Secret. But I just can’t write it. Not yet. Not when the wounds are still fresh.
After my necessitated return trip there tomorrow, I won’t be visiting that store ever again. And none of you can make me. To whomever thoughtfully sent me the VS gift card, bless you. I know you thought you were doing a kind and loving thing for me. You couldn’t have known the torture I’ve endured. I’m truly not as ungrateful as it’s gonna sound.
Still working on our taxes. Nina keeps tripping over my piles of receipts and documents on the floor by my desk. She’s just trying to get a piece of gum out of my desk drawer, poor thing. “Are you still doing your Texas?” she asks. We’ve talked about the difference between taxes and Texas. She wants to say the word “taxes” but it keeps coming out “Texas.” Praying we survive Taxes and can still go to Texas.
Speaking of, I’ve been struggling today with a little thing I like to call “Believing God.” If you’ve been around (here, that is) for awhile, I’ve been going back through my old Bible studies, soaking up stuff I learned once upon a time, asking God how I can apply these truths anew. I just (re)finished Stepping Up, and as I thought about which one to (re)do next, Believing God just popped out at me. Popped out and said, “How ’bout you start believing God a bit more, sister? For some reason, you’ve been thinking lately that your stack of bills, your to-do list, and your blah-blah-blah are out of God’s league. How ’bout you rethink that? ‘Cause there ain’t no such thing as out of God’s league.”
I did a downright crappy job of believing God today. My word. So tonight, I begged and pleaded. “God, help my unbelief. Help my unbelief. Help my unbelief.” (and then I said it about 16 more times) I am happy to report that I’m choosing to believe Him right now. My circumstances haven’t changed, but that’s beside the point.
God, I believe You.
And before I forget, the b-r-a in Sunday’s post was 90 cents at the thrift store. Thank you.
Saturday was good. Thanks for praying! I met some sweet people, and my talks went well. Several gals came up and told me that what I said really resonated with something going on in their lives at the moment. That’s when I know God gave me the words I prayed for. One of my favorite parts of the day–when I came out of the auditorium after it was over and sat down at my book table. I looked up, and across the way was one of the guys who had been serving food/cleaning up. He was leaning back in a chair, completely engrossed in a book. The cover caught my eye. It was a bit scandalous.
Gabe just got home from training some folks to update their new website and offered to exchange my VS stuff for me tomorrow. He told me he’d just say, “Hey, I need to return these. They don’t fit me.” Can you imagine?
I played wiffleball with 7 kiddos this afternoon. They’re all 10 and under and impressed by how far I can hit the ball. They are less impressed by how long it takes me to get around the bases.
What other random items can I spew at you? I’m just trying to avoid the t-a-x-e-s.
So, I filled out an NCAA Tourney Bracket. I joined BooMama’s ESPN group if anyone’s interested. If any of you knew me back in the day, you can testify to the fact that I was a sports fanatic/lunatic with a capital F/L. Not so much anymore. Not sure what happened. Life, I guess. I haven’t filled out a bracket in a few years. And I haven’t watched a single second of college basketball all year long. I’ll probably win. Because back when I watched every game that ever aired all season long (and then watched multiple editions of SportsCenter highlights every night), my bracket performance was typically pitiful. This should be interesting.
And this blog post should be interesting. But it isn’t. So I’m out.
Happy Tuesday, Twiddlebugs! Oh, and if yer Irish, Happy St. Patty’s Day!