Karma

Karma is a Hindu/Buddhist term to cover what the Bible tells us…we reap what we sow.    It doesn’t matter what reasons one uses to malign, belittle, harass, incite hate, bully, or degrade others…if you do it, you’ll pay.   Chances are, the more you talk, the more “facts” you have wrong, anyway.    Call it what you will:  “They needed it,” “Just making people aware,” "exposing," or “karma.”   The fact is that it’s revenge, and it’s spiteful.   If you are involved in it, you also will reap what you sow.  

I know I don’t always sow good seeds, but I hope that I will always strive to be a better person, not give in to human nature and seek revenge when I’ve been wronged, or when I just perceived I was wronged, when really it was just that the truth hurt.   And often…the truth does hurt, especially when it hurts someone we love.  

Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, that he will also reap.   

Galatians 6:7

Beloved, do not avenge yourselves, but rather give place to wrath; for it is written, “Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,” says the Lord.  

Romans 12:19

Tuesday

In the last few days, I’ve talked to two of my friends who have recently lost a lot of weight.   The first friend, I’ll call her Salena (because that’s her name) lost 75 pounds in about six months.  She breezed into an office I was visiting, and I was amazed at how great she looked.   She’s lost several dress sizes, and I asked her how she was doing it…very low carbs.    Most of her carbs come from fruit.   She said she cut originally cut out the carbs for health reasons, and found that the benefits have been very worth the sacrifice.  

A second friend, whom I’ll call Jacque because…yes, you guessed it, that’s her name…has lost 100 el-bees.  She has a lap band.   Like Salena, she told me how much better she felt, and like Salena, she looked great!    I didn’t have to ask her if she ever regretted her decision…she was happy!

El-bees?   Lbs.  Pounds.   But you knew that.

I want that!   I want to feel better!   When it comes to diets, I am not good at sacrificing, and I am not good at suffering…but I am suffering with the plight of carrying extra weight and sacrificing things I’d like to do but can’t/won’t because of my weight.    The big question is:  Which suffering sacrifice will be more worth it in the long run?

Of course, I know the answer.

Now to figure out which way I can live (live being a key word) the rest of my life.   Low carb?   Lap band?  Count calories?   Count fat?   Core Plan?   Weigh-down?      And then there’s walking in freedom…I’ve come to realize that freedom is much more than just controlling the appetite.

Yesterday was a beautiful, happy, successful day, and I am very thankful.  

Monday Musings

Dear Blog:

March is upon us!   I believe that I will make an entry for every day of March.  Thirty-four...that is 34...entries in a row.   Why, I do not know…it's just an idea I had.    There’s only 31 days in March, you say?   Yes…but I am starting the “every day” posts today.   I know you are excited, Dear Reader.

Dear March:

You are here so soon?   I greet you a year older and a few pounds heavier than the last time we met.   You are a welcome sight…even though it’s been a mild winter, I’m very ready for spring.

Dear Spring:

I see you are arriving early on the tail of a very mild winter.   Please, let’s have no repeat of last year’s April 27^th tornadoes.   In fact, can you keep the severe storms to a bare minimum?

Dear God:

I know it’s really You in control of all things, including weather.   I will endeavor to trust You…always.

Dear Diet:

Ah, there you are….another Monday appearance!    This time, I will be fighting to keep you around…to make you a way of life and more than just a daily battle.   :::winning:::

Dear Ole Boy:
I love how you have a song for everything, and how you change the words and make them so funny...and how you sometimes put my name in your songs.   But...waking me up with "Wake Up, Little Floozy" might not have been one of your better ones.

Well Known Secrets

I used to lie about my age.  I did it in a way that folks knew I wasn’t really 33, yet they knew they weren’t going to find out exactly how old I was, either.   My sister has never minded telling how old I am.   She’s been known to add a year or two, just for kicks.  (Makes me want to kick her!)   I have to admit that I still don’t like the sound of my age because, well, it sounds old.   A quick look at my face in the mirror reminds me that, indeed, I am…old.

This morning, my birthday morning, I woke up with a headache.   When I got up and moved around, it got worse.   I whined to Ole Boy that my head was hurting.   He said, “No wonder.   It’s 48 years old.”

There, I said it.  I am 48 today.

It really does sound old, doesn’t it?

I’m having a Facebook birthday party…it’s kinda neat to get lots and lots of birthday wishes.   I never, ever do the birthday thing in a restaurant.   (Well, there was that one time my dad thought it would be funny and pulled that on me...servers singing, off key and loud…I was not amused!)    But a FB “party” is a good thing.   Now if only I had some cake…KK’s doughnuts will do as a very nice substitute, though.

Speaking of cake, I started a diet yesterday.   Today, obviously, I believe I’ll take a break.   It’s my birthday, after all.  And Thursday, another break because of an office party.   I’m going to ignore The Biggest Loser’s “No Excuses” motto tonight.   As we all know, any excuse will do…at least for me.    Then, Friday?   Who starts a diet on a Friday?   Somebody who dies, maybe?   I really don’t think it will be me…unless, of course, I’m dead.    And if I keep eating like I do…well, never mind.

I would never go on The Biggest Loser.   Have I blogged that before?   Probably.   I’m old.  Bear with me, I’m going to say it again.    I think I could do the extreme exercise…if Bob Harper were yelling at me, threatening to break both my legs, and after I woke up from passing out, or perhaps tossing my cookies.  But I have too much dignity…or pride…to ever go on national television in my underwear, or in those halter top/bra things they make the contestants wear during weigh in.   Is that really necessary?    Men and women!  Put on a shirt!!! 

How do you make writing about the woes of yo-yo dieting and losing weight funny?   Is it believable…is it even conceivable that we can laugh about being fat and somebody doesn’t get offended?   I’m going to give it a try…when I finally have two days in a row that I stick to a diet, that is.   You can relax, Dear Reader, that won’t be this week. 

PS:  I’m irritated that in order to make a post on Blogger today, I am forced to use Google Chrome.  A prisoner in my own blog!  Not cool, Google.   Makes me want to check out WordPress.

Monday Musings: The Nashville Edition

Dear Birthday:

I celebrated you early in Nashville this weekend.   You may now roll quietly by…

Dear Ole Boy:

Sometimes, you just catch me by surprise.   You did that this weekend by giving me a gift that I mentioned I’d like to have months ago…and you remembered!   (See below.)

Dear Tennessee:

If I could no longer live in Alabama, I’d choose you as my home.   However, my rebel yell will forever be “Roll Tide!”

Dear God:

I saw so many different faces this weekend, and none of them looked alike.   Your creations are amazing.

Dear Hoodlum-looking Young Man:

If you don’t, at some point, look at your buddies who are wearing their pants below their butt cheeks (just like you) and think to yourself “You really look stupid!” I don’t know if there’s any hope for you worry about you.

Dear Other Young Man,

I don’t think the girl you were with appreciated being subjected to your “pants on the ground.” I sure didn’t!  Crack is whack!!   I don’t think you were trying to be cool…maybe you didn’t realize it…but didn’t you feel a draft??

Dear Cock of the Walk Server:

I don’t think you really deserved a tip, but we left you a decent one anyway.   Somehow I feel ashamed to not leave a gratuity even when you have done nothing to merit it.

Dear Antique Archeology:

I expected your new Nashville store to be much larger.

Dear Young Mother:

I realize she scared you running out in the parking lot…but if you don’t stop yelling at her like that, I promise one day you will regret it, and you won’t be able to take any of it back.

Dear Drury Inn:

Great idea about the shower gel/shampoo/conditioner dispenser in the shower.   I won’t fall for that trick again.  I just hope my hair recovers!

Dear Golden Corral:

What?   No breakfast pizza AND no chocolate fountain?!  Hmph!!

A few months ago, I mentioned that I'd like to have a small camera for my purse.   There are times I'd like to take a picture, but my camera is too big to lug around everywhere I go, and I miss some pretty good photo opps.    Ole Boy remembered, and he got me one...here are some pictures I took this weekend with my new camera....

The flowers are from the Opryland Hotel, Nashville

 

My last view of Nashville Sunday Morning as I was leaving...It was snowing and it was very pretty.

Keg Springs Winery Vineyard

Monday Musings...The Answered Prayer Edition

Driving to work this morning, I was thinking about what to share for Monday Musings; Whitney Houston and addiction came to my mind.   But as I kept thinking, my mind wandered back to a time when my step daughter, Jen, lived with us.   A strong spring storm had rolled through early one morning, and straight lines winds had taken the power out for my whole neighborhood.

My parents had power, so Ole Boy and I went to their home as soon as it got dark to spend the night.   Jen decided to brave the darkness and stay put.   Around 10 p.m., Ole Boy and I went back to the house (with flashlights) to check on things and give Jen another opportunity to come with us.   Again, she declined.

Later that night, after I got settled into bed at Mom’s, I was taking to God, saying my nightly general prayers, and something odd happened.   For just a split second, I saw Jen in the darkness of her bedroom, and a light was shining on her.   It was so quick, then it was gone, but I was sure of what I’d seen.   I said a quick prayer for Jen’s protection, and went on to sleep.

Early the next morning, we went home, and the first thing I saw when we pulled in was the carport door wide open with the screen door propped open.   My first thought was that Jen was pulling a teenager stunt by smoking in the house, and the door was opened to air out the smoke.   Jen was still asleep in her room when we went in.  We woke her up, and the first thing she asked us was why we’d come back later the night before and shined our flashlight on her.    We told her we hadn’t.   I asked her why she had the door propped open.   She didn’t.

Upon closer inspection of the door, we could see where a crow bar had been used to pry open the door.   Jen told us that at some point after we left, she awoke to a flashlight shining on her face.   She sat up and said, “Hey!  What are you doing?”  then she heard footsteps retreating.    Her original thought was that we’d come back, but she wondered if something else was going on.   She didn’t have a phone in the bedroom to call us, so and she blockaded herself in her room and went back to sleep.    

I’m not sure what I would have done in the same circumstance, but I’m almost certain going back to sleep wouldn’t be an option.   

Some may think I’m crazy, but in my heart of hearts, I know God was showing me Jen so that I would pray for her protection…and protect her He did.  In addition to protecting her, not one thing was missing from our house.   I am so grateful.

Monday Musings...

Dear Monday:

Stop staring me in the face on Sunday night.

Dear Diet:

Ah, here you are making your normal Monday morning appearance!  Think you might hang around until tomorrow?   How about just hanging around through tonight?  

Dear Shoals Area:

Wow!  That buy-one-get-one-free coupon at Logan’s Roadhouse!   I was irritated a little surprised that at 11:06 a.m. on Sunday there were no parking places.    Are those peanuts encased in gold?   Nah…but those rolls are about as good as gold, yes?

Dear Dead Ends:

I left you in a mound like a worn out wig on the floor of the hair salon.   I don’t think I’ll miss you.

Dear Roscoe:

You do NOT own this house!

Dear Dr. Wacko’s Mad Lab Wonder Dough:

I only pretended to get you for the kids.  

Dear WalMart:

Really?  You don’t think that a super store three miles from a super store isn’t just a little ostentatious?  How about greedy, then?

Dear New York Giants:

Woooo Hooooo!

Birthdays and Hearing Issues...

I woke up grumpy again today.   It’s probably not the “winter blahs” considering we haven’t had much of a winter.  I think the weekend will be therapeutic thing for me, even if it is a rainy one.  What’s better for doing nothing?    I have a birthday coming up, but I’m really not too antsy about it…even if I do only tell my age under duress, or when my sister tricks me into telling it by telling folks I’m older than I am, which compels me to “correct” her.   If that ever happens again, I’ll just remind her that making me older makes her older as well, and she’s in a whole ‘nother decade.    ::::snicker::::

If I were honest, I’d have to say that my inability to change is what bothers me most of all.   I’m really glad the Apostle Paul let me know I’m not alone:   “I do not understand what I do.  For what I want to do, I do not do, but what I hate, that I do.”   (Romans 7:15)  Yep.  That’s me.

This morning I stopped for a very fattening breakfast tea at Jack’s.   I hate it when they don’t put the lid on tight, and my drink spills down the front of my clothes on the first attempted sip.  It did not help my mood a’tall; but by the time I got to work, I was thinking I’d probably be able to make it through the day, and it appears I was right.   Speaking of Jacks, I don't know why "sweet tea" sounds like Dr. Pepper, nor how "bacon and cheese" can be misunderstood as "sausage."   Could just be me.

Some mornings I wake up and want to give up.   On those days, if it were possible, I wouldn’t even hit the light switch.  Nor bother getting dressed.   I’d just stay at home, curl up with Roscoe and ignore the world.   Today would have been a good day for it.   However, I do see a blue sky…and it looks like it’s going to be a good day in spite of myself. 

It occurs to me that I have as much right to my opinion as others do to theirs...politics, religion, whatever.  When presented with the facts, I can draw my own conclusions.   If you don’t agree with me, that simply means that I don’t agree with you, either.    People talking about “haters” are often “hating” louder and more obnoxiously than the ones to whom they are responding.   Some things, left alone, would garner a lot less attention.

I have written some of the best blogs…all in my head.   “Best” is a relative term, depending largely upon how and to what it’s compared.   I freely admit that some of them are probably best unsaid…