Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Smell

Smells. I have a particular part of my memories that are linked directly to smells. Kim's the same way. Makes it nice. Scientists say that we store our first memories through smells. We must because we have no knowledge of language yet. There are times that I smell something, I can't place what it is exactly, but very definite emotions grip me. Sometimes even physical reactions. I can concentrate and smell things from memory.

I remember the smell of the nursery at Pathway Baptist Church. I was three. Very definite smell. Kinda musty. When I smell that smell, I can see the black and white linoleum, the pictures on the walls, the plastic rocking horse, the old ceramic sink in the bathroom. Feel the sensation of seeing my mother at the door after a separation of hours. The elation. The absolute joy. It was like I had forgotten her and then there she was. Looking for me. Smiling at me. Reaching to pick me up.

I remember the smell of my mother. Light, powdery, sweet. The smell was most potent on her neck. I remember laying my head on her shoulder as she carried me. I can see the freckles on her neck. Hear the hum of her voice in her throat. See her hands. A few months ago in Dollar General, I caught her scent. Stopped me dead in my tracks. I scooped Gracie up and asked if she could smell it. "That's what Bubbe smelled like Gracie. That's her smell." And just that quickly, it was gone.

I remember the smell of my godfather, Mike. He wore cologne or musk. When he would come visit, Kim and I would sleep in the den and he would sleep in my bed. (bottom bunk) When he left, I would beg Mother not to change my pillowcase. He smelled like laughter and fun. His eyes were bright blue and he had fluffy hair. (It was 1978.) He drove a motorcycle and married a woman who looked like a tree frog. I have no idea what happened to him.

I remember the smell of Chris when we first kissed. He smelled like man. Warm, strong, tentative, gentle.

I remember the smell of the house my mother died in. Misery, blood, death, decay. It makes me see it again. Kim and I would chew Trident Tropical gum to block some of the smell. Now the smell of that gum is ever connected to that place. Pain.

I remember the smell of Brendan's cloth diapers that he slept with like a security blanket. Liquid Lysol, fabric softener. I can remember standing next to his baby bed, watching him sleep. I remember feeding him his first baby food. I remember falling asleep with him in my arms. Playing peek-a-boo with his cloth diaper. Mother called it his 'ether diaper' because as soon as you put it to his face, out he went. Lovely.

I remember the smell of our first apartment. My first place of my own.

I remember the smell of my grandmother's green, fake leather couch. The seat lifted up and you could keep coloring books under it.

I remember waking up at my Granny's house smelling her homemade biscuits baking. And she was always singing or humming. I remember watching my PaPa eat the biscuits by sopping up some kind of dark syrup.

I remember the smell of my Aunt Pam. Clorox and ammonia. Very clean.

I'm reminded of the Scripture that says "We are the aroma of Christ to God." That's 2 Cor. 2:15. My footnote says, "That we are a sweet aroma to God means that He delights in us and in our lives." I am connected to God in every way. He sees me. He hears me. He smells me.

I am resting. Lying back in His arms, breathing Him in. He loves me. He is drawing me to Himself, changing me. He enjoys being with me.

Will we smell in heaven? What does God smell like? Is it a smell you can taste? A smell that evokes emotion? A smell that completes every other smell? Oh, I can't wait. If heaven smells anything like my Mother, my Granny's homemade biscuits and my husband... well... I'll have died and gone to heaven.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Notice!

Calling all women:

This Saturday, December 1st, at 4:oo pm we're decorating the sanctuary for Christmas and preparing for Communion.

What does this entail, you ask?

Putting up 2 trees
Decorating said trees
Putting up garland
Decorating said garland
Putting up wreaths
Setting up the Advent table and wreath
Ironing Communion cloths

And if I remember (big if), I'll make coffee. Bring a snack if you want. And please don't make me do this all by myself. I'd love the company.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Football Overload

My football quota is filled. I have been at Kim and Scott's for 3 1/2 hours. And I've been watching football the whole time. Kentucky/Tennessee, Florida/Florida State. Sheesh. The Auburn/Alabama game won't start for another 35 minutes. I may have to go to Kim's room and watch Sleepless in Seattle.

Maggie asked me why we even came, "cause you know you don't care anything about it." She's right of course but it's a tradition. And Kim said I had to come. So here I am. Blogging.

I really am having a good time. Just a little whiny. I get to visit with Terri, Michelle and Kim. That's always fun. And there's good coffee. And Michelle's homemade salsa. Yum.

I think I'll play Mah Jong.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

Thanksgiving Aftermath

I feel sick. Too much squash casserole. Too much broccoli salad. Ugh. I want to puke. Looking back, I honestly didn't think I ate too much. But it must've expanded. Like rice in a pigeon. If I explode, Kim, you know what to do. I've cleaned out most of my closets and my sheds. Take care of my children. And please, don't tell them that their mother died from a casserole overdose.

Now I bequeath my earthly possessions:

To KimHill, I leave my bathroom scales... wait, I don't have bathroom scales. Sorry.

To Missy, I leave any kale that may be found in my fridge.

To Ginger, I leave a money belt to keep track of funds.

To Laura, I leave my diary... don't laugh too much.

To Mona, I leave my retarded dog Molly, maybe you can teach her where her food bowl is.

To Jenny, I leave my front loading washer and dryer. Enjoy.

To Paige, I leave three books that I've started and never finished.

To G, I leave my secret stash of Prozac for those hard winter days.

To Burt, I leave all the books that we've borrowed and never returned.

To Les, I leave a deep freeze full of dead cow. ( for when you come out of your vegan phase)

To Terri, I leave 10 bottles of partially dried out nail polish.

To Amber, I leave my Led Zeppelin cd's. Maybe you can learn to love the real classics.

To Boo, I leave my shop-vac. You have a child now, you'll need it.

To Jawan, I leave my copy of Napoleon Dynamite. Watch it til you like it.

To Jessica, I leave my computer. Then you'll see what true power is.

To Kim, I leave my children. Have fun.




Well, in case I digest instead of die, you get nothing. Sorry.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Well, I finally sat down and changed my playlist. I like it a lot. Hope you do, too.

Right now, as I type this, Chris is playing the guitar that's hooked up to the amp. Maggie's got her guitar trying to keep up and Brody has his guitar... small, plastic, circa 1965 with cartoon characters on it. They're all playing.

The windows are open letting in the bright sunshine and perfect temps of a lovely day. The house is clean. The yard is clean. I have a couple of scented candles burning. I'm writing. It's really a lovely moment. Just thought I'd share it with you.

I need to go to the store for a couple of things but I'm reluctant to leave this moment. The store can wait.

Monday, November 19, 2007

Completely Random

Random is the new catch phrase apparently. I made it up though. Truly. Me.

I just have a few randoms thoughts. Here goes:

1. Love Paige's playlist. Beginning to hate mine. Need to start over.

2. Mona and I think alike. Don't be afraid. Well, maybe you should be. We both HATE laundry. It's never done. You think it is and then someone finds a pair of shorts and puts them into the newly emptied hamper. Oh no. I don't think so. Grrh. We have both, at seperate times, without speaking of it, told our families that we're having 'naked day' so that I can go ONE DAY without dirty clothes in the house.

3. Last night at the Thanksgiving Dinner, Burt and I totally matched. Navy CPC sweatshirts and jeans. We cracked up. Twins! I told somebody to take our picture... I could put it on my blog. Great idea! So, Leslie whips out her cell and snaps the picture. Only to inform me that she had no way of sending it from her phone. Hmmm. Les, why did you take our picture then? You are of no use to me anymore. Good-bye.

4. My children have been quietly playing with each other for 3 hours only to burst into the house griping and holding body parts that someone has slapped. Joy.

5. Long division. Maggie. Not working.

6. We're eating with Adam and Jessica tonight. I'm sooo excited. We always have such fun.

7. I just realized that I'm still in my pajamas. I should go do something about that.

8. Have I had any water to drink today?... Nope. Well, I guess I'll be peeing into the wee hours of the morning since I'm about to go drink myself sloshy.

9. I'm having trouble containing my Christmas excitement. I cannot wait to put up the tree this week. We have to wait until the day after Thanksgiving though. It's tradition. Oh, it's going to be so much fun! I should buy gumdrops for the kids to string together for garland. That would be pretty. And maybe a little sticky.

10. Brody looks like a girl. He MUST have his hair cut. I was going to take him this week but the shop was closed cause an SUV drove into the building. Ouch.

11. Have I mentioned that Act of Congress has a cd now. Awesome! Love it. You must buy one. (Act of Congress is Adam's band)

That's all. Gotta go now. Must clean myself up for a fun night.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

By the way, Kim (my sister) has come back to the land of the blog with a vengeance. Her link is to the right.

Yard Sales

We had a yard sale yesterday and today. Yard sales bring out the crazy people. Most of the shoppers are normal but there are a few... well, that are just weird or plain old selfish.

One old lady, cantankerous woman, asked me what size clothes I wore then told me to try on a jacket for her cause she didn't want to take her coat off. When I got the jacket on she looked at me in it and let me know that it didn't close all the way because I'm obviously bigger than her. Stupid woman.

This same woman looked at one of Amber's expensive Madame Alexander dolls. She let me know that it was not a Madame Alexander. It was not in its original clothes and it was not in good shape. She said it was dirty too. I told her that's why it's priced at $40 and not $400. I think after all of that she spent about 45 cents. Stupid woman. Later, the doll sold to woman who collected dolls. She was thrilled at the deal.

One lady looked at a box... a box... of Monet 'Water Lilies' dishes marked at $20 and asked if I'd take $5. Are you smokin' crack? No, I will not take $5. "Now go away, cause I no like you no more!" (said w/ a Latin accent)

Then a guy comes up and wants to just buy 2 place settings out of the box. Umm... no. Nobody bought the dishes so I'm donating them to Women's Ministry to use at luncheons.

Another lady spent $9 on clothes and then shoplifted a 25 cent jump rope. I would have given it to her if she'd asked. And it was not a mistake, I watched her bury the jump rope in one of the bags.

One man used the 's' word twice in a 2 minute conversation and then told me "God bless you" as he was leaving. I found that a tad inconsistent.

Another man drove up in his car that was decorated with 4 Auburn flags, an Auburn tag on the front and some kind of Auburn thing dangling from the rear view mirror. He had on an Auburn hat, and Auburn shirt, Auburn shoelaces and a gold Auburn necklace. So, quite humorously, I asked "You an Auburn fan?" He looked right at me and very seriously answered "Yes ma'am." Totally missed the joke. Completely. I felt kinda sorry for him. Maybe he'll find a good deal on a sense of humor one day.

I abhor getting ready for a yard sale but I like the actual selling part. You meet nice people and not so nice people. You get to help people sometimes. It was good. And I made almost $100! Ain't nothin' wrong with that.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Crafts

A little frustrated... I want to do crafts with the kids. Fun stuff. Christmas stuff. I get all excited and then look around.

Where would we do these crafts? The nasty kitchen table? The living room floor that's covered with laundry and toys? How about the school room? (aka 'the only clean room in my house')

Then there's the inevitable whining that happens because it's so close to bedtime.

Forget it. Totally not worth it. Not today anyway.

Monday, November 12, 2007

Superiority

Burt's sermon Sunday was very good. I know that sounds very poorly described but I'll explain a bit more in a minute. I always learn something from Burt's sermons but I don't tell him that because he'll ask "You liked it? What was it about?" I hate that. Like he's trying to catch me in a lie. Like I'm just trying to make him feel better. He should know by now that I never do anything just to make him feel better. He's got all the arrogance he needs. But he is used by God. God has used him in my life in more ways than I can count. I appreciate him. Now on to the sermon.

Sunday he talked about prejudice. I was so glad that I don't struggle with that cause I know he made people uncomfortable. Yeah, right. I was deeply convicted about all my little ways that I am prejudiced. All the standards that I obviously meet and you don't. Silly things, stupid things, pointless things. But those things are the very things that cause strife in the church.

For me to think, even in passing, that by doing anything a certain way brings about the desired result then I have to be saying that those who don't do it the same way are wrong. And they're not just wrong but judged. Condemned. It doesn't matter if I tell them that or not... they know it. They feel it.

Kim, Angie, Elizabeth and I had a great conversation about this. About the utter arrogance of thinking that I don't hurt my brothers and sisters in Christ this way. Because I do. And when no one calls me on it, I begin to think that I'm right. And that path is ugly.

I love the church. I really do. But I know that sometimes I love myself more and if you get in my way, I may just have to make you feel inadequate and useless to justify myself. I hate that. I HATE that. I want to love. I want to support, encourage and edify... but I don't always. And the reason for it is pride.

"So who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God, Christ Jesus our Lord!" The only answer is the gospel. Knowing that I'm way worse than I can imagine and yet loved more than can be understood. If I really believe that then you can call me on my sin, on the careless things that come out of my mouth and hurt you, and it doesn't destroy me. I am free to apologize. I am free to own my sin because it no longer defines me.

God has shown me areas of my life where I feel superior. Where I am so used to defending myself that it's second nature. If God has called me to do something I'm not the one who's responsible to defend it. God is. It's his calling. If God has given me a responsibility, I'm not the one who owns it, he does. If my attitude hurts another believer, than I am wrong. My actions may not be wrong but my heart is.

So I guess what I'm saying is... if I have hurt you. I'm sorry. If I have ever made you feel unloved and unneeded, please forgive me.

I plead with you to ask God what it is in your life that you use against other people. What careless things have you said, or not said, to cause pain? He will show you if you ask. I think it's time we ask and time to repent.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Saturday, November 10, 2007

I have a fever. My head hurts. I'm missing the Bazaar at church. There's a dead hamster in a box in my kitchen waiting to be buried and Chris is in Anniston. My life sucks today.

Friday, November 09, 2007

Sunday, November 04, 2007

Another List

I love lists. I am what is known as a 'list person'. Anita is a 'list person' I believe. I sometimes make lists just so I can mark things off and feel like I've accomplished something.

Things I want to do before I die:

1. Learn to Tango. Can't be with my husband, he giggles too much when he dances.

2. Go to Europe: Paris, castles in Germany, Pompeii, etc.

3. Make a documentary of my Dad's life. He's very interesting. Does anybody have a really good movie camera I can borrow?

4. Have a book published.

5. Write a book. This should've been #4 I guess.

6. Learn Spanish.

7. Learn more German. Was ist das? Meine namen ist Crissy. Guten nacht.

8. Plant and cultivate a good vegetable garden.

9. Go to the Louvre in Paris. I know that seems like it should just be part of #2 but it's not. I would fly over there for a day just to be able to go to the Louvre.

10. Listen to Yo-Yo Ma in person. This could also apply to other true artists. Not just favorite bands but artists. After being around Adam and seeing him perform, I realize that witnessing a true artist is a rarity. Adam may be blushing but, sorry, I can't help it. Someone who is genuinely gifted makes you feel the music in a way you never would have without them. They feel it to the very core of who they are. It's a beautiful experience to watch them enjoy what is pouring out of their soul. It's a gift to be allowed to participate even as a spectator.

I have other things I'm sure that I want to do. These are just the things that come to mind right now. I may never do them but it's nice to dream.

What do you want to do before you die?

Glimpses

Okay, okay... I know that I've posted twice already today but I cannot help myself. I can hear my mother calling me narcissistic. For some reason I think people will read it. But sometimes I just gotta. There's a line from You've Got Mail that I love. It says something along the lines of sending thoughts into the void. I like that.

My two oldest children took Communion today for the first time. It was a deeply profound moment in time. We take Communion very seriously at our home. It is a sacrament. It is a mysterious way that we are fed by Christ. I'm sure someone more brilliant than I could attempt to explain it. Come on, G... give it a shot.

Anyhow, my kids spent most of yesterday thinking on it and repenting. Trying to prepare their hearts for worship. It helped that I iron the Communion cloths and since it was Chris' turn, we were in charge of cutting up the bread. We, quite literally, spent hours getting ready for today. And thinking about Christ's amazing gift of love and sacrifice. His body broken for us. His blood spilled for us. Why? We are a stubborn and selfish people. We don't even want to think about Him. And yet He pours out His life for us.

Luther prayed straight from Psalm 119:94 when he prayed " I am yours; save me." I am yours; save me. I am yours; save me. Over and over. I never tire of it. Psalm 119 is a treasure that I never understood.

But I begin to get a glimspe of the truth that the law is not evil. The law is good. And not just because it shows me my need of Christ. "Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in your law" Verse 18. God's boundless character is there to be discovered.

"Let me understand the teaching of your precepts; then I will meditate on your wonders. My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word. "

The law does not save me. Only Christ can save me. I am now free from the chains that bind me to the law and I am free to obey it. Without fear of consequence of failing, which I will inevidably do. I can see His face in His word. I can know His heart in prayer. These things I do out of love... not fear.

"I run in the path of your commands, for you have set my heart free. " Psalm 119:32

New Playlist

I changed my playlist up some. The month has changed. The time has changed. And it all makes me want to listen to my favorite classical 'tunes'. Try listening to Itzhak Perlman and not wanting to Tango or say "hoo-ha".

Chopin is so lovely I almost want to cry. A little piece of heaven.

Yo-Yo Ma. Give him a listen. You too will be amazed. Man, I want one of my kids to play cello.

If you don't like classical music, wait a bit... my list will change eventually with my mood.



Hey, I just checked KimHill's blog and she changed her playlist too. I swear, we're like twins separated at birth.

A Real Date

I have the priviledge of being married to Chris Sharp. As most of you know, he is the best man in the world. I know some of you think that your husband is the best but, really, I just feel sorry for you because obviously, you have no real point of reference. Anyway...

I got to go on a real date with my husband Friday night. We got dressed up a bit, we abandoned the children and went to a concert. A real concert! And not just any concert, a Derek Webb concert! Chris loves Derek Webb. He references him often because Webb has a way of putting things into words that Chris has long held to be truth. We went on a trip last spring to D.C. and Pittsburgh and the only music we listened to was Derek Webb. That would be, let me see.... 26 hours of car time. The kids know every song on all 5 Cd's by heart. Even Wedding Dress.

So as you can tell, we had a marvelous time. We met another couple. We relaxed. We sang. We had conversation that had nothing to do with kids, bills or responsibilities. Wonderful. Or as KimHill and I say, "Good times."

If you have small children, I encourage you to go out. Maybe not once a week, but as often as possible. Don't neglect your spouse because really, they are the other half of your soul.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Eating Crow

What happens when you think you know something, insist that you know something and then find out later that you were wrong? You eat crow.

Well, I have my platter of breaded, battered, fried crow (the only desirable way to eat it). Fork in hand. Here goes...

We went to see Peter and the Wolf today. As I remember the story from being a little girl, long time ago, Peter captures the wolf, they kill it and save the duck. Children's Theater showed Peter 'capturing' the wolf and taking him to the zoo. I was appalled. How dare this post-modern society change the very essence of the story?!?!

Crow time: After careful research, that is exactly what happened in the original story. I was totally thinking of another story. Maybe Little Red Riding Hood or The Three Little Pigs. Good over evil... that sort of thing.

Hello, Soapbox. May I climb up and rant a bit? Oh wait, I can't. I am apparently an idiot. Never mind.

Grateful Introspection

Sometimes when a person is expressing gratitude, others call their words a "humble brag". Ty explained this to me. The person is a...