Random, Disconnected, Bullet Point Thoughts . . .

  • It is February 23rd here in Central Texas, and I am wearing shorts . . . not because I’m a teenage boy that refuses to wear pants no matter the temperature, lest anyone need clarification. I’m wearing shorts because it’s HOT in Texas. I love me some spring y’all, but it’s too soon for it to be almost ninety degrees.
  • With that heat comes humidity. And with humidity comes my crazy big hair. My hair has always been wavy and thick and kind of hard to manage, but I swear it has changed some in the past few years and is wavier and crazier than ever before. It grows exponentially larger with each percentage increase in humidity. It’s fantastic. And yes, I have a whole barrage of products I use to help manage this crazy mop on my head. At this point I need no suggestions.
  • Speaking of products . . . for most of my life (i.e. the first 40 years) I owned pretty much nothing in the way of skin care. I washed my face twice a day with Dove soap. I’ve never slept in my make up (when I wear it which is only a couple times/week) . . . not in high school, not in college . . . and I used basic drug store moisturizer and sometimes sunscreen, and as I’ve already said, I washed my face twice a day religiously. Enter my 40s, and stupid things like fine lines and wrinkles, uneven skin tone, and the like . . . suddenly, I wish I owned stock in Ulta. The reason is evidenced by the photo below. I do have lines I won’t cross in the name of at least trying to age with some grace. Clearly buying every face product ever made by Clinique is not crossing that line. This is my life now, multiple face products and things like skin cycling. It’s some kind of ridiculous, but it is what it is. (And please don’t try to sell me face “stuff”. I’m not in the market.)
  • While we’re on the topic of self-care in your 40s, let’s talk about preventative “maintenance”. This is not a topic, I’m super comfortable about being vocal about because privacy, but nothing about breast cancer or heart disease or type 2 diabetes is private. Ladies (and gentlemen), you need to be going to the doctor yearly. You need to be doing the appropriate preventive care, mammograms, bloodwork, skin checks, colonoscopies, etc. Taking care of your body is not a sin, and preventative care does not show a lack of faith. I’d say quite the opposite. God has given us so much in the way of medical wisdom and preventive care, and while we certainly don’t hold those things above Him, I believe it is our responsibility to take care of ourselves as much as we can here on this earth. Call and schedule that appointment. It may not be the most fun, but it is so important.
  • On another note, let’s talk about podcasts. I listen to a variety . . . Christian based marriage, theological, true crime . . . I’m here for it all. I started listening to a podcast last week entitled The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill. If you’re an evangelical Christian, you know what I’m talking about. Going into this podcast I was skeptical. I have no love lost on Mark Driscoll, but what I wasn’t looking for was a Driscoll bashing session. I actually do have points where I agree with him, but overall I find him crass, disrespectful, and crude. Having said that, I have no use for being critical simply for the sake of being critical. Thankfully, that’s not what this is. Instead, it is, a cautionary tale of holding pastors and evangelists up as celebrities, of the abuse of authority, and the dangers in idolizing any man or woman. And make no mistake, I think the idolization of men and women is prevalent in western Christianity. Respect is important, but also, we need to test everything against the authority of God’s word, and if it doesn’t line up, it has to go. If at any point we see any man or woman as never being wrong or having the inability to be wrong, then we have a huge issue. All that to say, in a world where it seems like more and more pastors are struggling with moral failures, that, whether we like it or not, do extensive damage to our witness to a lost world, there are lessons to be learned from Mars Hill but not only from Mars Hill. We’d be remiss if we don’t step back and evaluate what has gotten us to this point. That got some kind of serious real quickly, but I encourage you to listen to the podcast in its entirety. I didn’t agree with everything, but it made me really stop and think.
  • And . . . on a lighter(ish) note . . . basketball is over, at least for high school, and I’m kind of sad. We’ve kept track of not only our boys’ and girls’ teams at our school, but of all the teams in our district. Yesterday, I listened to our high school girls’ game on a “radio”/internet broadcast because I wasn’t able to go to the actual game and because that’s who I am now, a full-fledged basketball mom (my niece was playing along with some of my son’s friends so I had reason to listen). And while y’all know I am the biggest champion for letting my kids grow up, I cannot believe that Andrew is almost finished with his freshman year in high school. What is happening? He’s going to be sixteen soon, and y’all I need all the prayer because I’m not ready for him to be behind the wheel on his own. As far as basketball goes, there’s always college and NBA games, and I’m sure we’ll fully enjoy some March madness around these parts. But goodness this school year has flown.
  • Last but certainly least, my sciatic nerve is giving me fits once again. Specifically, I have piriformis syndrome . . . go ahead and look it up and then thank me for over sharing. Seeing as how this whole post is TMI why not??? One might think it’s just something that happens with age, but let me be real clear here, it is 100% because I don’t stretch. This has been happening to varying degrees for over 10 years because I do intense workouts that require stretching, and then I fail to actually stretch. Why? I don’t know. I don’t want to??? I honestly hate stretching. I stretched today because there’s nothing like trying to get the cows back in the barn after the door has been left open (speaking from the experience of someone who maybe left a gate open once or twice in her younger years) . . . maybe I’ll learn, but probably not.

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