I love KLove.  I mean, I love it.  It's a national Christian radio station (check it out at klove.com and find a station! it's worth it.) and they're doing a challenge where you have to listen to Christian music ONLY for 30 days.  No cheating.  The goal is to see if it changes your life.  When I told my hubby that I was doing this, he laughed and asked how that's any different at all from what I already do.
It's so wonderful to listen to good music every day that isn't going to make me sad.  The DJs are funny.  Actual funny DJs who aren't talking about gross things or illegal things or things that make me nervous.  They're laughing about things that I laugh at; like the other day when they were having people call in and tell how their body reacts when they get nervous.  One girl said she actually snorts.  Randomly.  And she demonstrated.  On Mondays the morning folks have Make a Difference Monday every week when people call in about how someone has made a positive difference in their life, or if they've done something to help someone else.  Wednesdays are Wow God Wednesdays where people call and tell their stories about how God has come through in their lives in ways that make your jaw drop. 
I mean, come on.  There's no way I'd turn the channel from THAT and go to... grossness.  Don't even get me started.
So I didn't consider myself as really attached to this challenge thing until today, when I was in a restaurant where they were playing country music.  I laughed at the "heart felt" videos, and really found myself getting impatient with the music.  It had no message.  No feeling. It made my face smile for a minute, but  I got bored quickly.  Then, we went to another place and I heard an old song that I loooooove, and sang along with as long as we were in the store.  It was in my head for a while.  Didn't like it.
So I went back to my little desk and turned on my little radio and heard a song that made my heart smile, not just my face.
Much better. :-)

Saying "So long."

Today was a sad day. One of my very best work friends has moved on from the glories of working for DSS, and today was her last day.  Big sighs all around!  It was a fairly productive day, but all I really wanted to do was sit in her office and chat, since I know I won't be seeing much of her now. 
But that got me thinking.
Thinking about the seasons of friendship.  Of course, we know as adults that all relationships are seasonal.  Some relationships (like siblings and spouses) are for your entire life, and your go through seasons within the relationship, but I'm talking about the kind of seasonal where tulips only last for the spring.  The summer camp kind of friendship.  You've never been so close to a person as when you're spending your every waking minute with that person, and you're convinced that you know every single detail about your BFF's life, and they know everything about yours.  It's the kind of friendship that breaks your heart to have to physically leave each other's side at the end of camp.  (Please keep in mind while reading this that I never went to summer camp; I'm only going by other people's stories and Parent Trap.)
I pondered that a lot today.  I acknowledge as an adult that friendships can't last forever.  They just... don't always do it.  As I hugged my dear friend goodbye and we walked to our cars at 5:02pm today, I could feel the finality of the final moments of this season of our friendship. 
But as I was driving away, a ridiculously relieving thought came to my mind.  Maybe ALL friendships are the first kind of seasonal.  The one where they last your entire life, but come and go.
It felt like the end of an era (to quote Friends), but I found great comfort that another era is just around the corner.  An era of texting, and meeting at the mall, and catching up on facebook.  And after that, there are more eras to come. 
So Monday morning I'll head back to work, having not moved onward or upward.  I'll go back to my regular routine, and enjoy the era that I've got with the wonderfully fun coworkers around me.  I'll work hard, and maybe laugh a little too, and we'll miss our university-bound friend.  We'll leave her office door closed until, in a couple of months, someone else occupies the space. 
So if you've recently bid a friend "Adieu," remember dear friends: tulips only last for the spring, but they'll be back next year. 

Exercise! It's funny!

I'm not in the best shape of my life.  That is QUITE the understatement.  I try not to pay too much attention to numbers on a scale, but... it's hard to miss an expanding waistline.  I've been trying to do the simple things: you know, parking farther away (but within a safe distance).  Walking the long way around the office to get to the front desk (being careful not to stop and chat with too many people, as this defeats the purpose).  I've even been known to do a few squats when I have to pull something out of a bottom drawer of my filing cabinet (actually I wasn't known for that, as that has been a secret until just this moment).  I like to think of myself as a... constant exerciser.  Whatever that is.
The other day it came to my attention that my Hubby's parents have an elyptical machine, not being used, in their basement.  So after some smooth talking I made a trade: I could borrow the machine, in exchange for my box full of Our State magazines.  Trade complete.
I hope to not alarm you when I say that having the eucalyptus (unicorn? I keep saying it wrong) in my house did NOT put me magically in better shape.  However, let me just tell you how it made it painfully aware of how OUT of shape I really am. 
The first time I got on the machine, I only made it a minute and a half.  After that, I was afraid that I wouldn't make it to my bed to collapse.  Sigh.  I'm more than a little ashamed, but the truth shall set me free!
This truth makes me feel better. I've ridden the unicycle (eucyclops? wrong again) almost every day since then, increasing my time by only a little or none at all, determined not to push myself too far.  Tonight, I rode it for a whole seven minutes! Wahoo! I traveled like 3/10 of a mile, at 3 miles per hour.  Okay, fitness guru I am not.  BUT, that's improvement, right?  I mean... right??
The important thing is that I'm taking steps (circular though they may be) in the right direction. I'm still not paying attention to the numbers on the scale (until I think I'll see something good), and I haven't noticed any differences in the waistline just yet.  But I'm making progress.  And that, my friends, is the name of the game.
And in reference to the title of this blog: It really is funny.  Don't worry so much about results! Remember to giggle at yourself now and again. It helps. :-)

I'm an old lady.

I was recently called out for crocheting while I watched Matlock.  I have two things to say in my defense: one, at least it wasn't Murder She Wrote (although I prefer it); and two, I wasn't alone.
But while I'm talking about it, I had an epiphany while I was crocheting today.  I'm working on a new pattern which I've never tried before.  It's a lovely tan hat (lovely, as in, I REALLY LIKE it), and I'm very nearly finished.  I was stitching away when the verse from Psalm 139 popped in my head: "He knit me together in my mother's womb."  While I know I wasn't knitting (this time), it occurred to me how very personal God's relationship is with me.  He's my Creator. Creative.  How interesting.  And I think I'm still a work in progress.
So all the times when I'm rebelling, I can feel Him having to get me back on the right track.  I never imagined this as painful to Him until I had to pull out a few layers of pattern because I'd made a mistake a few rows back.  All that progress, gone.  All that time and energy, wasted. 
But was it really?  I don't think so. Because when it came time for me to reach the point of my mistake again, I didn't make the same mistake.  And that, my friends, is grace.
So today I'm feeling very thankful that, even though I think I'll always be a work in progress (until I reach Heaven), I'm not going it alone.  I have a pattern (the Bible), and a wonderful Guide who will show me my mistakes, help me correct them, and teach me how to avoid them in the future.
God's really great. :-)

Snow and ice and more snow

Snow is kind of like my image before God.
Before it starts, I'm dirty. Muddy. Sinful.  And down comes the snow as beautiful as salvation to cover it all in beauty.  Suddenly I'm spotless! Beautiful! Captivating!  Now and again I allow myself to get muddy again; footprints from dogs and people and cars and such. I allow sin into my life again and again, despite the damage.
Inevitably though, I realize the pain to my soul's landscape, and allow my heart to rest and be healed by another layer of grace and snow.  And the mud has disappeared all over again, and I'm once again captivating.  Even the deepest footprints are eventually filled and covered.  Beauty reigns.
In my analogy, the snow remains.  Not because of temperature, but because of love.  The grace that covered my ickiness in the first place remains.  It stays right where it is until death, when we must take our clean and spotless selves before our maker.  Suddenly it's baren and dry again, because we've taken all we have to offer.
Don't worry, friends.  All is not lost.  The snow in the atmosphere cleaned up the air.  The snow on the ground moistened the soil.  And when we reach Heaven, eternal Spring, Our souls blossom full, bright, forever.
I love the anticipation!
Happy snow day, friends.

Luke says "I like the mountains."

I couldn't agree with him more.  As we were driving down Old Fort Mountain in western NC last weekend, I was looking at the splendorous view and noticed something.  The mountains are really, truly beautiful.  The colors, the height differences, the landscape; just gorgeous.  But if you're standing half way up one, or even on top of one, it's hard to appreciate the beauty of your particular mountain because you're in its midst.  On the flip side, if you're standing in the valley beside the mountain, you still don't have a good vantage point.  It's kind of like sitting in the front row of a movie theatre; you get the general idea of what's happening, but you have to crane your neck to get the full picture.  The good spot to viewing a mountain is on another mountain, on the other side of a valley.  It's the valleys that make the mountains so beautiful. 
So true in our walks with God as well.  It's wonderful to be up on that mountaintop experience, feeling close to God.  It's dreadful to be in the middle of the valley, stuck where you feel far away and forgotten.  But when you're on your way up again and take a look back, you realize that you have to experience the lows to appreciate the highs.  Just another parallel in nature to our relationship with God.  It's almost as though He designed it that way.  (sarcasm. so you know.)
Have a lovely day!

I was on the radio today!

I was listening to my favorite radio station, K-Love, which is a national show.  The lunch time dj, Sterling, was talking about the simple things that make us happy.  You know, like fresh sheets and chocolate bars and such things.  I had a thought, so I called the number and.... she picked up!  How exciting!  So I told her the following story.
When I was little, my dad worked as an accountant.  Sometimes he had late nights, and a few of those times my mom would let me stay up late to wait for him to come home.  And on fewer of those nights, he would bring me home a present.  It was never anything big, but small things like french fries from McDonald's, things like that.  Anyway, one night he came home and had forgotten to bring me a special prize. So, he called me over to his desk, opened his briefcase, and brought out a beautiful, never-been-used, sharpened #2 pencil.  I, being a preschooler, had never had a pencil of my own before, let alone a beautifully sharpened one!  My mom let me draw a little that night, then was surprised when I remembered it the next day.  Ever since then, my favorite writing utensil is a freshly sharpened pencil.  I try not to be wasteful, so I don't sharpen my pencils often, but when I do... man alive.  It makes me smile, and think of my Dad, every time.
Do you have a simple pleasure?

New year, new lip (it's not what you think)

Picture this: It's five in the morning on New Year's Day.  The Hubs and I rang in the New Year by our almost-two-year-old's crib side, begging him to sleep.  After hours of persuasion, we all finally snoozed for a couple of hours all piled up on the bed, until just this moment.  The child, beloved and precious, has had enough of Mom and Dad, and decided to show it by thrashing and flailing about.  First, a knuckle punch to the inside of my right eyeball.  I blinked repeatedly, trying to ease the pain, and had finally regained sight when, out of nowhere, came the head-butt.  In the moment, several things flashed through my mind.  First, I didn't think he could aim that well, but he must have aimed. Second, I think this hurts more than I think it does.  And third, I wonder if my mom's awake because I think I'll need ice. 

Moments later, the pain set in.  And I felt the oozing down my chin.  Nice.  Flash forward a couple of hours, and now I'm sitting with an ice pack over my lip, curled up sleepily while my precious mother occupied my baby boy with a puzzle.  I looked at my sister for comfort, and asked "Does it look bad?"  I waited for her sympathetic response, wondering what sweet words she would have to say that might make me laugh at this whole situation.  Her response: "Yes."  She smiled, and pointed out that she can't lie.  Thanks, sis.
So all of our family pictures from New Christmas Year's have me with a big fat lip, or me glancing to the right, or me kissing the boy.  Call it art if you want.  I call it the most memorable New Year's Day of my life. 

I hadn't previously made any New Year's resolutions and hadn't planned to.  But maybe I should.  Maybe it should be... learn to block better.

Happy New Year's.

My very first blog

Okay, so, I give up.  Years upon years of resisting the blogging "thing," and I finally concede.  So what now?  I have my own little page, my own little web address, and my own little voice.  What to do?  The opportunities are endless. 
Allow me to, first, introduce myself to you, the nameless to whom I am writing.  I'm an almost 30, married,  working Mommy of one.  I hear I'm a part of Generation Y, which makes me tech savvy and forward-thinking.  Apparently.  I'm a Jesus-lover, before anything else, and my good Friend will likely be the topic of most of my blogs.  All the other blanks will be filled as we get to know each other.
So hi. :-)  Nice to meet you.