Standing to be Sharpened.

It was always a chore to sharpen my pencils when I was little.  Standing on my tippy toes and reaching up as high as I could in hopes of actually fitting the pencil into the hole was an accomplishment.  For not only was the pencil sharpener stationed up high, it was stationed in a precarious spot at the top of the basement stairs.  One off balance movement and a face-plant kiss at the bottom of the stairs would have been my greeting. 

I am constantly being challenged by a friend about my attitude and actions.  She may not realise this.  However, I love hearing her stories, about her past and present, and the fresh way she looks at life.  Each time she always has something profound for me to contemplate, and each time my attitude is given a postive tweaking where needed. 

   Henri Nouwen once said, “The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing… not healing, not curing… that is a friend who cares.”

I miss my girls deeply, Laura and Jenny.  So much any more we are all busy with life and school.  But that’s understandable, we can all be awful at keeping in touch at the same time.  One thing that never will change is how much I love them, appreciate them, and cherish their friendship in my life.  I think we have all experienced the lows and highs together, and I can’t imagine anyone else having shared those with.  I’m so glad God has blessed me with these girls, and that no matter how much time has passed, whenever we talk or see each other it’s like we have never been apart for long.
 
I look at my life and think about how many times I have been off-balance and face planted to the floor.  How many times God has had to take me and put me through the sharpener, nor realising just how dull I’ve become.   The situations, the stories, the constant reminders of how my attitude should be, God has placed people in my life to be my sharpeners.
 
Sometimes it hurts, sometimes my pride is beaten, and sometimes I shake my head in disbelief at how I have behaved. 
But thankfully, God never fails in bringing something to my life that helps me back to form.
 
For everyone stands to be sharpened every once in a while aye?
     
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I Need A Minute

 I love listening to the Cleveland Indians games.  Almost like hearing the trains at night, it’s comforting.  Brings back good memories, and helps me fall asleep.  There were many nights that I would hear the announcer’s voice (Tom Hamilton),  and knew exactly what Dad was listening to.  In the car as he was driving us places during the summer time there never ceased to be a moment he would flip on 1100, and a game would be on.  Either that or it was listening to Rush Limbaugh.  It’s these type of moments where it almost feels like Dad is sitting next to me, listening. 

 As I was lugging all my stuff out of the dorm room, I cried a bit as I got to my car.  Everyone’s dad was there to help pack and load..and it was my pity party moment.  I am going to have to get use to this, won’t I?  When I graduate, when I get married, when I buy a house, all the big occasions that I’ve dreamt of ever happening, I won’t have him here.  Each occasion I will probably have a ‘I need a minute to miss him’ cry. 

As I was working today, I had a ‘Famous Deli Lines’ phrase moment.   My customer inspired me to write my top 10 answers that I have gotten through out the years.

 ‘How would you like this sliced?’

10.)  Chipped but not thin. (hmmmmmmmm)

Definition of chipped:  falling apart.  I don’t know how to make that not thin.

9.)  Slivered

8.)  So I Can Taste It!!!!!!

(normally a customer says this with a deep emphasis on the word TASTE. )

7.)  I Don’t Care!

(okie dokie, I’ll hand it to you in a chunk.)

6.)  A pound is a pound no matter how it’s sliced.

I feel this answer could be the start of a new Shakespeare inspired play called, ‘Hamless’.

5.)   Wafer thin.

Everytime I hear this, I think of vanilla wafers, and it instantly makes me want to buy some.

4.) Thick like Bologna. 

(Now if I were to be very sarcastic, I could just chuck out a a whole 10 lb bologna horn and ask, ‘This thick?’)

3.)  Just Right!

My just right? Or your just right?

2.)  In Pieces

I almost got the food processor out for that response.

1.)  Half of Thick

That was what was said to me today, I looked at him, met the challenge, and sliced the perfect slice first time.  I now know what half of thick looks like.

I love people.

Finale

This is the last week of my first year in school.  I almost wished it away at times at the beginning, and towards the end I wished more time could be added.  I said my goodbyes to my kiddos for the year, numerous hugs and laughs.  From Kaela and I warning the girls that if they don’t use the restroom while we had them available, they would have to pee in the woods (we went for a walk in a state park).  To the girls reassuring us that they could do that, and finally really needing to use the restroom and trying to pee in the woods; however, they came up to us soon after saying,  ‘We can’t!!! We don’t know how!’ .   I about busted a gut laughing so hard!  These past couple days I’ve attended 5 pizza parties, I don’t think I can eat any more pizza.  My friends have declared, because they have so many more meals left, that they are going to buy large pizzas to eat, and they need everyone to help out with it.  Did you hear my stomach groan just then?

It’s been a week of events.  My friends and I gathered around the tv at 4 am on Thursday to watch the Royal event of the century!  William and Kate getting married.  I really enjoyed celebrating the event with 22 billion other people.  Though the reaction on facebook was a sad day, when I saw people that I love bashing them because of past history.  When attitudes like that come up, it puts me on the defensive; indeed,  I think about how much America has done to others because we aren’t the victims anymore,  at times we are the offenders.

Last night President Obama came on and declared that Osama was dead.  I have a gut feeling that the people who were bashing the wedding, are in fact celebrating right now.  The fact for me is that I don’t know what to think.  I was writing a letter to my friend this morning, and said ‘I never realized just how much weight I had on my heart when I knew he was alive, and I can feel that weight gone, it’s like I’m not holding my breath waiting for another attack to happen…amazing how one person’s death can bring such a sense of relief and also fill a whole nation with terror.’  But the fact is, it’s not over yet, and I can’t rejoice in the death of a person, but yet my sense of justice is also coming into play saying,  ‘finally, some restitution for those who have suffered so much from all that he has done everywhere.’   As much as I would like to say this is the end of a chapter in the book, I wonder at the affect this will have and what the can of worms we have now opened, will look like.