Yesterday I had a work meeting...the kind where the big bosses call and want to take you to lunch at a fancy steakhouse kind of meeting. I put on my spiffy shoes and drove up north while letting my brain play funny tricks on me...thoughts of 'maybe I'll be ubering home because I'm being fired' to thoughts of 'maybe I'm getting a totally big raise'.
No über was needed and the raise wasn't totally big and there is a fancy new title and lots of sweet words were spoken and a really great swordfish was eaten for lunch so yeah, it was all good.
Happy New Year.
I've been feeling lately like I don't belong...not all the time, but some of the time. I feel it sometimes with work, that I'm on the fringe but not in the midst. I feel it at parties if I don't know anyone. But most of all, I've been feeling it at church.
A lot of that is me. I'm married to a church worker and have spent more time alone in church (with a houseful of squirmy boys) than I have with him sitting by my side. And now, I'm often truly alone in church due to boys and that whole growing up and moving away thing that they insist on doing, and I'm feeling those same feelings of aloneness that I felt when we were first married.
The difference now is that I believe there is a reason for those feelings...and I'm just trying to keep my heart focused on that. That the worship is not about me being comfortable and social...but more about me being quiet and in His word.
It's a reminder to me that church isn't about a 'feeling' and it all comes back to me listening...with both ears open. But sometimes I forget that as I'm slipping into a pew alone.
It's not easy though.
It's a super rainy day in SoCal today...the words super rainy are used to describe a steady flow of raindrops that fall from the sky for more than 30 seconds. It's a novelty here and the word on the street is that this is going to be a wet winter.
I knew it was coming yet didn't make it to Costco yesterday and had one rather grumpy teen grumbling over the fact that we are out of both eggs and bread. Add it to the list of homemaking failures, my son. Add it to the list.
I suppose a great mother would have made homemade oatmeal or maybe even pancakes but I'm not trying to win any awards any longer so I handed him a bowl and a box of lucky charms.
I'm sitting in a quiet house today (in my pj's) and will be dashing out for a fun, much needed girlfriend lunch soon.
Gotta love girlfriends who listen to you overanalyze everything and then tell you to move on.
At some point I'll run to the store in order to make tomorrow morning a little bit happier for one of my boys and I'm thinking tonight is a good night for soup. Probably chicken tortilla soup...the pioneer woman posted a yummy sounding one a few weeks back, so I think I'll go with a variation of that.
Plus it'll make the house smell really good and since it's a basketball night, it can be eaten in shifts.
Brian had X-rays done of his wrist yesterday and has two more weeks (and probably two more after that) in a cast. He's bummed but the Dr is super happy with how he's healing...slow and steady wins the race.
Unless you're 17 and just want to play basketball your senior year in high school.
The Christmas decorations have come down and the house feels so bare. And yellow. It is in dire need of a fresh coat of paint and I'm thinking February is the time to do it. I've got a long girls weekend coming up as well as a work trip to Florida so once both those are behind me, I think I'll spruce this little house on this little street up.
Still yellow because it makes me happy, but maybe a little different shade. We'll see.
Well, here I go out into the wild wet yonder.
Cute boots? Check.
I guess I've covered all the bases, right?