Jessica's Blog
Monday, April 14, 2008
It's Called A Beautiful Letdown ~*~ Only to Someone Else
Friday was shopping day (yes, it's taking me this long to post a happening!). The grocery shopping is sort of my job, sometimes Mom does it, but it's usually me who does the that and any extra errands. I like the job, it's a fun outing, and sometimes I can squeeze in going to the library to get a movie, a Starbucks, or maybe a quick stop at the crafts store! Generally, I take at least a couple of kids with me, if I'm really feeling peppy I'll take all seven! Mike comes of course, he's always my favorite shopping "buddy"!
On the way home, we stopped at Target for something extra. Another fun stop anyway, Mike and I like to go there to look for movies. We got our stuff and got in line. There were two girls in front of us. I couldn't help but listen to their conversation...
The one girl was relating her "guy" problems to the other. She had quite a few, probably from juggling too many guys. The other girl listened intently, related her similar problems right back. I started observing little comparisons, between those two girls and me. Both of them looked as though they had been to the tanning salon several times already, their nails were perfectly Frenched, hair looked as though the wind wasn't blowing at all that day. Tons of gaudy make-up, I think half of their lip mass was painted on. From everything else, I figured that they were on their way to a party. Both of them reeked of cigarette smoke. Which was sad in itself, neither of them looked older then 18-19 years old. Their whole appearance, everything from the way that they dressed, to what they had on their face, conveyed everything that was self-centered... it was clear that they only had them to worry about.
I smiled when I looked down at my nails, hacked off the day before so I could do my embroidery work and bread baking without the pain of long nails. Did I envy those girls? No, not one little bit. I was thinking on the way home of all of the things I noticed, and I thought out loud when I told my brother that I was glad I wasn't like either of them.
Of course I'm a girly-girl, I do my hair everyday, and wear make-up, and paint my nails, toe nails included. I do everything that makes me just look like, well a girl! But there are distinct differences in just making your self look like a girl, and trying to make yourself into something like that.
I know sometimes people look at me and wonder why I am still here. Occasionally even talk to me as if I can't stand being in the house with so many children, regardless of how much they know I love them. They know all of that, but when am I going to get out and take care of me? Well, never.
I was thankful that God never gave me the opportunity to become that way. I'm glad that I'm not a "party girl". I like my short nails and the fact that I can go outside and get my hands dirty. I love taking all of my brothers and sisters with me to the grocery store and the library.
I love being here, and like looking like a "worked" girl. I don't want my hands to look as if they had never seen a dish brush, or had never been stabbed a few times with a sewing needle, or burned taking dinner out of the oven. I don't care if my hair isn't sprayed perfectly into place because I have been chasing kids all over creation.
I'm thankful that I don't have "guy" problems. The only guy I will ever have is going to be a "Mr." and I am going to be the "Mrs.". If girls looked at dating and guys that way, they wouldn't have to stand in line and consult on what do do with harry, moe and mac all at one time.
My idea of a wild night is to stay home and drink my chamomile tea and watch my corny British comedies! In the end, thank you God for making me what I am.
~*~Jessica~*~
On the way home, we stopped at Target for something extra. Another fun stop anyway, Mike and I like to go there to look for movies. We got our stuff and got in line. There were two girls in front of us. I couldn't help but listen to their conversation...
The one girl was relating her "guy" problems to the other. She had quite a few, probably from juggling too many guys. The other girl listened intently, related her similar problems right back. I started observing little comparisons, between those two girls and me. Both of them looked as though they had been to the tanning salon several times already, their nails were perfectly Frenched, hair looked as though the wind wasn't blowing at all that day. Tons of gaudy make-up, I think half of their lip mass was painted on. From everything else, I figured that they were on their way to a party. Both of them reeked of cigarette smoke. Which was sad in itself, neither of them looked older then 18-19 years old. Their whole appearance, everything from the way that they dressed, to what they had on their face, conveyed everything that was self-centered... it was clear that they only had them to worry about.
I smiled when I looked down at my nails, hacked off the day before so I could do my embroidery work and bread baking without the pain of long nails. Did I envy those girls? No, not one little bit. I was thinking on the way home of all of the things I noticed, and I thought out loud when I told my brother that I was glad I wasn't like either of them.
Of course I'm a girly-girl, I do my hair everyday, and wear make-up, and paint my nails, toe nails included. I do everything that makes me just look like, well a girl! But there are distinct differences in just making your self look like a girl, and trying to make yourself into something like that.
I know sometimes people look at me and wonder why I am still here. Occasionally even talk to me as if I can't stand being in the house with so many children, regardless of how much they know I love them. They know all of that, but when am I going to get out and take care of me? Well, never.
I was thankful that God never gave me the opportunity to become that way. I'm glad that I'm not a "party girl". I like my short nails and the fact that I can go outside and get my hands dirty. I love taking all of my brothers and sisters with me to the grocery store and the library.
I love being here, and like looking like a "worked" girl. I don't want my hands to look as if they had never seen a dish brush, or had never been stabbed a few times with a sewing needle, or burned taking dinner out of the oven. I don't care if my hair isn't sprayed perfectly into place because I have been chasing kids all over creation.
I'm thankful that I don't have "guy" problems. The only guy I will ever have is going to be a "Mr." and I am going to be the "Mrs.". If girls looked at dating and guys that way, they wouldn't have to stand in line and consult on what do do with harry, moe and mac all at one time.
My idea of a wild night is to stay home and drink my chamomile tea and watch my corny British comedies! In the end, thank you God for making me what I am.
~*~Jessica~*~
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Never, never, never, never, never...
I get the Elisabeth Elliot newsletters in my email every morning, when I find a really good one I always save it for later reading. I was digging through some of my saved newsletters the other night, and found this:Forsaken? Impossible
Twice in my life I have heard Christians claim, in all seriousness, that God had forsaken them. This is an impossibility. Does Christ live in us? He does. The living Christ dwells in the heart of every true believer--He in them and they in Him. There are no words which adequately describe the intimacy of this relationship. Jesus, in his last recorded prayer for those whom the Father had given Him, asked "that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and thou in me...that the love thou hadst for me may be in them, and I may be in them" (Jn 17:23, 26 NEB).
Twice in my life I have heard Christians claim, in all seriousness, that God had forsaken them. This is an impossibility. Does Christ live in us? He does. The living Christ dwells in the heart of every true believer--He in them and they in Him. There are no words which adequately describe the intimacy of this relationship. Jesus, in his last recorded prayer for those whom the Father had given Him, asked "that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and thou in me...that the love thou hadst for me may be in them, and I may be in them" (Jn 17:23, 26 NEB).
Jesus Christ, in the extremity of his agony on the cross, asked why God had forsaken Him. In becoming sin for us He experienced a terrible alienation from his Father, a sense of total dereliction. God did not and could not forsake the Son who was one with Him. He cannot and will not forsake us who are not only his sons and daughters, but also the dwelling-places of his only begotten Son. "I will never, never, never, never, never (the Greek has five negatives) leave you or forsake you," is his promise. At times we may be overcome with a feeling of helpless forsakenness. This is surely not from the loving Father, but from the father of lies. The best way to answer that "father" is the way Jesus answered when tempted by Satan: "It is written." Take God's own promise with its five negatives and hold on.
I loved reading this, that bit of scripture is one of my very favorites. It is a never swaying reminder that no matter what, we are never going to be alone. Even when things are so low, you just can't see the light at the end of the tunnel; when people who say they're you friends, still up run the other way; when you feel like there is no one else there... He says "I will never, never, never, never, never forsake you". No matter what the deciever trys to tell us, we have that wonderful promise to hold on to.
~*~Jessica~*~
I loved reading this, that bit of scripture is one of my very favorites. It is a never swaying reminder that no matter what, we are never going to be alone. Even when things are so low, you just can't see the light at the end of the tunnel; when people who say they're you friends, still up run the other way; when you feel like there is no one else there... He says "I will never, never, never, never, never forsake you". No matter what the deciever trys to tell us, we have that wonderful promise to hold on to.
~*~Jessica~*~
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Obsessive Compulsive? Maybe. Maybe Not.
I was reading an article this morning, I don't usually read articles related to medical anything, but this one caught my eye. It was about people who are compulsive "hoarders". Not people that just save some things (come on, everyone does that), but people who will practically bury themselves in their house with junk. People who are truly afraid of throwing someting out, not matter how obvious it is to another person that they will NEVER need it. These "doctors" will actually dedicate their career (or a portion of it) to understanding why someone is a true, dedicated pack rat. It's amazing what people will study.
They do brain scans, compare brain waves, and even compare all of the 23 (I think it's only 23!) chromosomes in the DNA of so many people. With tons of different behavior studies, psychologists and psychiatrists and so on trying to figure out why these people are so obsessed with "hoarding" stuff. Why they feel they have to save every little thing because "they might need it". They want to know how to "help" these people out of what is to them, a disorder. It is a disorder, in a respect, but they are looking in the wrong place for the answer.
I think what kept me reading this "why are they a pack rat" article anyway is I wanted to see what words would be mentioned. Words like "fear" and "control". I think the word "fear" was used, but not in the context I was looking for. The best reason they had so far is that part of issue is genetic. Oh fine, there's something new; they have a nut for a relative.. that must be what the problem is. They have a degree to say something like that?
I have known, and still know, people that were/are pack rats. They had to save every little thing. Their house became unusable because of how they lived. Every corner, every square inch of floor was covered with stuff that should have been put in file-13 a LONG time ago. Stuff stacked to the ceiling. They could no longer sleep in their own bedroom it was so filled with junk. Personally, I never looked to see if the bed was even visible.
I never considered them to have a disorder though that needed to be analyzed by a scientist. We knew what the problem was. Their "stuff" made them feel safe, made them feel they were in control. It's like that verse in the Bible, how we shouldn't store up earthly treasure... because our treasure is in heaven. But they don't know that. I believe that these people, in the back of their minds, think that all of this stuff you can collect on earth is going to save them, or keep them safe for now. Because, really, if you don't want to believe in God, something has got to keep you safe, right?
I know others (let's be honest, these people are scattered about all over the place like a disease), they may still be little clutter-buggy, but their security is not quite coming from how much stuff they have, but more from how much it's worth. Money makes them feel safe, valuable things make them feel safe. A good job makes them feel safe. They could never ever give those things up, because goodness gracious, what if something goes wrong!? There is no possible way for them to trust something they can't see, and that's God. For something to be safe, it has to be visible and tangible. There is no "minds eye" for them, they have to put their trust in something that they can see... and for some, this is taken to a height labeled "hoarding".
I'm not a scientist, but those people that were being analyzed, I bet not one of them was a true believer.
They do brain scans, compare brain waves, and even compare all of the 23 (I think it's only 23!) chromosomes in the DNA of so many people. With tons of different behavior studies, psychologists and psychiatrists and so on trying to figure out why these people are so obsessed with "hoarding" stuff. Why they feel they have to save every little thing because "they might need it". They want to know how to "help" these people out of what is to them, a disorder. It is a disorder, in a respect, but they are looking in the wrong place for the answer.
I think what kept me reading this "why are they a pack rat" article anyway is I wanted to see what words would be mentioned. Words like "fear" and "control". I think the word "fear" was used, but not in the context I was looking for. The best reason they had so far is that part of issue is genetic. Oh fine, there's something new; they have a nut for a relative.. that must be what the problem is. They have a degree to say something like that?
I have known, and still know, people that were/are pack rats. They had to save every little thing. Their house became unusable because of how they lived. Every corner, every square inch of floor was covered with stuff that should have been put in file-13 a LONG time ago. Stuff stacked to the ceiling. They could no longer sleep in their own bedroom it was so filled with junk. Personally, I never looked to see if the bed was even visible.
I never considered them to have a disorder though that needed to be analyzed by a scientist. We knew what the problem was. Their "stuff" made them feel safe, made them feel they were in control. It's like that verse in the Bible, how we shouldn't store up earthly treasure... because our treasure is in heaven. But they don't know that. I believe that these people, in the back of their minds, think that all of this stuff you can collect on earth is going to save them, or keep them safe for now. Because, really, if you don't want to believe in God, something has got to keep you safe, right?
I know others (let's be honest, these people are scattered about all over the place like a disease), they may still be little clutter-buggy, but their security is not quite coming from how much stuff they have, but more from how much it's worth. Money makes them feel safe, valuable things make them feel safe. A good job makes them feel safe. They could never ever give those things up, because goodness gracious, what if something goes wrong!? There is no possible way for them to trust something they can't see, and that's God. For something to be safe, it has to be visible and tangible. There is no "minds eye" for them, they have to put their trust in something that they can see... and for some, this is taken to a height labeled "hoarding".
I'm not a scientist, but those people that were being analyzed, I bet not one of them was a true believer.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Hollywood Gone Feminist~*~
I noticed something yesterday that I had never noticed or thought of before. Father of the Bride (the 1995 version with Steve Martin) somehow temporarily made it's way into the VCR yesterday afternoon, I thought 'Oh, I haven't seen that in a while'. Thinking about the movie for a minute, I realized the difference between the old version and the new one. In the old Father of the Bride (with Spencer Tracy and Elizabeth Taylor), Kay (Annie in the new one) was just going to get married and be a wife and a mother. I couldn't exactly recall if that was stated in the movie, or if it was just assumed by the watcher. No, after I thought about it, it was just assumed by the watcher that Kay did not have a career to worry about... she was 'just' getting married. I don't even think that the movie was done where she had an interest in one, or talked about it in any part of the movie at all.Inevitably, the movie was remade, but what was the big change? The bride was suddenly a career woman. She wasn't going to quit or stop going to school simply because she was going to have a husband to take care of. In fact, that was a big worry on the parents part that she would end up stuck with a freelance working husband and four kids with nothing on her part.
Fast forward to the sequel of the newer version when Annie has her first baby, again what was the worry? That they were saddling themselves with a kid before her career had 'taken off'. To top the storyline, Annie is not only not going to stay home to take of her new baby (movie goers would cringe at the thought of that), she was offered a higher position, which was going to be the start the career she had always dreamed of.
I found the comparison very interesting. Back in the 1950's, unless a woman was a single mother, no one ever thought of a woman having a career outside of her home and marriage. That movie was a good old-fashioned comedy. After 40 or so years go by, it's no longer 'interesting' to the average audience to watch a girl get married and be JUST a wife and a mother. No, now they need to cater to the society that has come, the age of the woman in the office. After mentally scanning some old versions vs. new versions of movies, I found the same thing.
Again, I went down a quick list of movies that have come out within the last year, and in at least 90% of them, the central female character has a career ( if not an 'excellent' one), has her kids in school, or is single and just has a great job, is very very pretty, very well educated, ultra independent with a smart mouth. Or even worse, she is a half naked something-or-another-with-a-gun running around with a body so filled with muscles you'd think it was a man and not a woman. Those are just things in some of the movies that I have noticed, but you get the general idea.
Some of the best old shows done were based on the events of a woman in the house. One of my favorites, I Love Lucy. Even though Lucy sometimes thought that she wanted a job outside of the home, what did Ricky say he wanted? A wife to come home to, and a Mother for his children. I love all of those old shows....
~*~Jessica~*~
