I've Moved!

  To readers of my blog. If you, for some reason enjoy reading my blog, I have moved my scribblings over here: https://thisismylifebgg.wordpress.com/blog/ . This site will be here to redirect you there until further notice.

What I did this Week: well last week and a little this week

  Last week, I started a sewing project that I will probably look back on as a landmark achievement in my career as an amateur seamstress. Unless, that is, I become really good one day and work for Chanel, which is highly unlikely.

  I present, for your viewing pleasure, a Wonder Woman baby dress.

 

I needed to practice my applique skills, so I made a uniform for my night job.

 

 

 

 

Trending on Twitter: #IfYourDayIsBadAlwaysRemember

  Every time I have tried to come up with a weekly blog post, I either get bored of the idea before I start it, or I get bored of posting entries so similar they all start to blend to together. Lately though, I have been inspired, to try a weekly blog post that does not involve an overload of photographs. Especially as my photo-heavy posts have become less and less in the past few months. Only next week will tell how committed I am to this literary venture.

  I present for your reading pleasure (or displeasure if you do not like my ramblings) “Trending on Twitter”. Every week I am going to pick a trending hashtag and write about it. There were a couple of interesting ones to choose from today, especially since the Democratic National Convention is underway this week. I think, though, I have written enough about politics this year, and I do not really want to tackle a major social issue on short notice. Politics and feminism might be interesting subjects, but they tend to be inflammatory as well.

  For this week’s entry, I will be using #IfYourDayIsBadAlwaysRememer. I am pretty sure someone on Twitter’s creative staff came up with that hashtag to promote positivity on the internet. There are plenty of ways to encourage people in 140 characters or less.

  It would be easy, and incredibly clichéd, to say life is good and seeing the world as wonderful place is only a matter of whether or not you see the glass as half full.  There are times are times when that is certainly true. At other times, days are bad, and that is okay. Life is not a Macy’s Day parade. We have to cry, and feel pain, and get sick, and go to funerals. The world is a messed up place, and inescapable bad days will come and they will have to be endured. Pizza and rock-and-roll will not ultimately make anyone’s sorrow go away.

  As a Christian, I know I will have bad days. And I know that God is with me to carry me through my struggles. I also know there will be an end to the pain and sorrow on this earth: I can look to Christ’s coming as that end. I am going to have bad days. There will be many times in this life when I am not happy. But when I have bad days, I can look beyond my unhappiness to the eternal joy waiting on the other side.

Trip to the Beach

  This post is a couple of weeks overdue, and that is because I put off editing picture as long as I possibly can. Even if editing simply means resizing pictures.
  Anyways, a couple of weeks ago, my Dad and I went to the beach to go fishing. We ending up getting stuck in the sand and consequently ran out of time to actually fish. After we dug the car out sand I took some pictures. I know this area of Texas is notorious for having ugly beaches, and there are times that certainly is true. But if a body is willing to drive a little further south than Galveston, the beaches become tolerable if not actually pretty. Here is some photographic evidence of that fact.

 

 

 

And here's a nice beachy song to go with those pictures.

 

 

Something New

  I have hated dishes for many years. I will not try and soften that sentiment by saying I strongly disliked them. I hated doing the dishes and there is no way around that fact. In the past, I have written an ode to my hatred of dishes and said that people who claim they like washing dishes are liars. That was very immature of me.
  In spite of my hatred of dishes, I find myself doing them quite often. In my family, we siblings trade chores in the kitchen from week to week. One week, my responsibility will be to wipe off the table and counters; the next week I will be in charge of sweeping. And, of course, sooner than later, it will be my turn to wash the dishes. While I will do the dishes when it is my job, I will be sure to let everyone around me know that I am not enjoying the task before me.
  Last week, my turn to do dishes came around yet again. I decided, this time, that I would try something different. Lately, I have been convicted about complaining while I wash the dishes. Whining about dishes is not constructive, or uplifting, and it is definitely not godly. So last week, every time I went to the sink to wash the dishes, I kept my mouth shut. Complaining does take effort, and I figured I would put that effort into finishing my task.
  I also prayed. In retrospect, I could have prayed to find washing dishes enjoyable, but I did not. I just prayed that God would allow me to get the dishes done quickly and that He would control my mouth. God did both of those things. He also did more for me than just keep my mouth shut. By His grace, He helped me to see I genuinely have no reason to complain about doing the dishes. They are a part of life. While they may not be fun, they are certainly not awful. Then are plenty of far harder things I could be tasked with doing.
  I still dislike dishes. Maybe I should now pray that I will like washing them. But right now, I am happy to see that hatred softening, by the grace of God. Perhaps I will one day come to place where I relish washing dirty plates and pots and pans. Or perhaps, in my bumbling humanity, I will completely reverse any progress made in my attitude towards dish-washing. At the end of the day though, I was reminded that God is more than willing to help me in every aspect of my life. And He is so ready to pour His grace on me. Even in something as mundane as dishes.

What I did this Week: It was the Forth of July

  This past week has been busy and beautiful and broken. Here at its end I am having trouble remembering exactly how it started. One of the consequences of not journaling.

  Sunday morning found my family and I in Oklahoma. For the first time this year, all the cousins on my Dad's side were together. We had a lot of fun.

 

  Sunday afternoon found my family back in God's country with all my cousin's on my Mom's side of the family, also for the first time this year.

 

  Monday was the 4th of July. Shopping and picnicking happened.

 

   It is hard to say no to books.

 

  In the afternoon, some of us cousins decorated my oldest cousin's house. Because among family members, small acts of vandalism are tokens of affection.

 

   Tuesday I came home to find this masterpiece had come in the mail.

 

  Wednesday, I bought some patterns.

 

  Thursday, I tried out a new muffin recipe, and the results were pretty good.

 

  Yesterday, I got the lamest fortune with my takeout.

 

  Personally, this past week was good. It was really good. I got to spend time with people I love as well as get things accomplished. Nationally though, this past week has been horrible. It seems that every morning I woke to some new brokenness. I keep wanting the world to be better, and yet I live under the shadow of knowing it never really will be. This darkness may be a small and passing thing, but people are a part of this darkness, and it hurts to know that. This is going to sound silly, I needed to get that Switchfoot album when I did. It reminded pain is a part of life. It always will be. And yet pain is where God's goodness is the brightest. Its where His love is the loudest. The wound is where the light shines through.







God Does Not Need You to be Right

  As long as the church has been around, its members have fought. There are multiple instances in the New Testament where its writers address the quarrels that have sprung up among the believers. In the two thousand years the church has been around, not much has changed. Christians still disagree over many things. Those disagreements lead to arguments. And arguments usually do not lead to the resolution of the disagreement in question. They usually end by infuriating those involved.
  There is, in all men, a deep-seated desire to be right. While it at times springs from a passion for truth or a love of justice, it more often than not stems from pride. In his book Mere Christianity, C. S. Lewis says of pride, "There is no fault which makes a man more unpopular, and no fault which we are more unconscious of in ourselves. The more we have it ourselves, the more we dislike it in others." Pride is ungodly, and it is ugly.
  Christians are allowed to disagree. They are people and so it is bound to happen. However, Christians are supposed to be known by their love for one another. This means, if they must disagree, they have to do so civilly. While there is certainly a fair share of examples of violent disagreement among church members, believer's squabbles tend to be polite.
  With those polite squabbles, there are many times when believers disagree on rather unimportant things. And they walk away from their disagreement believing they are right and the other is "Oh so wrong!" Then they will chalk the other's short-coming up to a lack of good theology, or weak spirituality, or ignorance, because naturally, they are superior. Not through any merit of their own, of course, but because God has seen fit to show them that much more grace. When it boils down to it though, they are right, and the other person is wrong.
  There are times, when I think I need to be right to prove that God is right. And I do not need to be right, because God does not need that from me. He needs me to follow Him. To obey and honor and glorify Him and love Him with every fiber of my being. But He does not need me to prove anything to anyone for Him. If anything, He needs me to open to the possibility that I am wrong a lot of times, and that others might be right. Being a Christian means kicking over my holy cows, loving God with all my heart and loving my neighbor as myself. All at the cost of my pride. And many times at the cost of my being right