Food for thought

Each day I find myself either thinking – or saying to someone – “Wow, my brain hurts.” But why? It’s not a headache, I didn’t get a 2x4 to the head, and I didn’t smack my head getting out of the car. But seriously – sometimes – my brain HURTS. And I’m left to wonder – in this day and age of non-stop activity – do we actually experience brain overload and brain drain?

As human beings in the 21st century – we no longer have down time. My brain is never fully “turned off,” so to speak – so there is no chance for it to relax – and really, few of us completely relax at all. If I’m watching TV – I’m folding laundry. If I’m driving somewhere – I’m making calls I couldn’t earlier in the day. If I’m washing clothes I’m also baking cookies, chatting online (sshh) and answering emails. And because of all that – I get tired because my brain gets tired – and it hurts.

Part of this between-the-ears fatigue – I found out after a little research – has to do with the energy consumption of the brain. Though it only contains two percent of our body weight, our brains use up to as much as 20 percent of our energy. TWENTY PERCENT! No wonder I feel like I’ve been smacked around by a semi-truck at the end of the day. Not only are my bones getting old and weary but my brain needs a rest, too!

And – even though we’re constantly told that we only use 10 percent of our brains – well, I don’t believe it. God has a purpose for everything, and I know that every part of my brain has a reason for being there and a function (some of you out there – well – I’m not so sure).

The human brain is amazing. The intricacies of it can only be understood by its Creator – and will remain a mystery to us. But being rundown and overloaded can cause some real stress – and even our brains needs a rest. So turn off the TV, walk away from the computer, and let your brain get some sleep.

To be a film, or not to be a film, that is the question...

I’d promised myself I’d never blog about the same thing twice…I was clearly delusional. Again – the wonders of Wal-Mart never cease to amaze me. So, on a trip to good ‘ole Wally’s – with specific items in mind that I needed to buy – I of course bought those forbidden items I didn’t need. Why oh why do they put out a $5 DVD bin? Of course, on my way from OJ to shelving – it caught my attention.

As I sit here on my couch, dead tired from moving the last couple of weeks, I’m thinking – wow, how many personalities do I have? Why does a woman my age need First Blood, The Secret of Nihm and All The President's Men? But I realized that all (and you aren’t gonna know how many) of the DVDs I bought fit into two categories – either a movie, or a film. In recent conversations with one of my roommates, we realized there is a huge difference between the two. It goes something like this:

Gone With the Wind – Film
Legally Blonde – Movie
Back the Future – Movie
Rear Window – Film
Citizen Kane – Film
Napoleon Dynamite – To Be Determined

So, what constitutes a film, and what constitutes a movie? For starters, the mere presence of black and white means nothing. Case in point – well, any Three Stooges movie. And it goes without saying that if a main character was first seen in cartoon form, or at any point dons a cape – well – he or she is in a movie, definitely not a film.

And while I could go on and on about the differences – perhaps it’s best to make a concise list of all thing things a film is NOT…at least in my world.

A film is NOT…

· Based on a pint size comic book character that puts on a mask and suddenly speaks like Barry White (………cough……..The Dark Knight…….double cough).
· Shot in any portion underground, where ridiculously sized turtles answer to an overgrown rat, eat pizza like there’s no tomorrow, and bear the names of dead artists.
· Set in a place that doesn’t exist, or one that you really wish didn’t (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory…while an excellent book…the movie remake with Johnny Depp…EWE)
· Shot in dream sequences.
· Something you wish was shot in dream sequence.

Simpler times?

In a sad attempt to pretend there is a window in my cell, I keep a large photo from 1932 hanging on the wall where I work. It’s a great shot – a group of blue collar guys, hundreds of feet up in the air, just enjoying their lunch during a day of construction on the Rockefeller Center in New York. They’re relaxed, chatting, and smiling – and the soaring cityscape beneath them looks more like a grouping of doll houses.

Photographer Charles C. Ebbets was hired to document construction of the Rockefeller Center in 1932. This particular photo – “Lunchtime atop a Skyscraper” – has always been one of my favorites. The men appear to be perfectly at peace with their feet dangling off the 69th floor of the GE Building. Each time I look at this photo I discover something new. Even today it dawned on me that the dark masses behind the last man on the right are the trees of Central Park. I stare at this picture often, and try to view it through “new” eyes.

The Jumeirah Essex House on Central Park South can be seen in the background – only open a year at the time of the photo – yet it remains one of North America’s most luxurious hotels 77 years later. To stay in this hot spot today, which is centrally located between Broadway and Central Park, the price tag is approximately $600 per night, per person – nearly half of these men’s yearly wages in 1932, and about the price of a car at that time.

I often look at this picture and wonder how many of these men lost everything they had when the stock market crashed three years earlier? How many of them once wore suits to work each day, or even supervised the construction of sites similar to the one they were working on? How many of them had been searching for months – maybe years – for a job to provide for their families, and finally landed one that would put them in of the most famous photos of the era?

I’ve had this picture a few years now – one of my favorites – and I enjoy looking up from my screen once in a while to take it in. The photo is nearly 80 years old, and I’m sure the men photographed have passed, but to me – this photo represents what our country was founded on. The freedom to sit atop a skyscraper in progress – even amid a time of financial uncertainty – with the hope and belief that our country would once again be prosperous.

Averages from 1932

New house: $6,510.00
Annual wage: $1,650.00
Gallon of Gas: 10 cents
Rent: $18.00 per month
Loaf of Bread: 7 cents
Pound of Hamburger: 10 cents
New Car: $610.00

God's Timing IS Sweet

August is a month when one of my siblings will celebrate their wedding anniversary – specifically, one of my older sisters. At the time she got engaged, my 9-year-old perception of the situation may have been slightly…off. All I knew was that some random punk with big floppy hair had swooped down out of nowhere and decided to take my sister away from me. Yes, I was young…and perhaps I didn’t fully understand the world of adults (even 19-year-old ones that thought they needed to get married). Either way – this boy posed a threat – and after they were married he even had the audacity to move her 15 minutes away from where I lived. I vowed in my 3rd grade heart that someday he would pay for stealing my big sister. Instead – almost 25 years later – I spend the majority of my free time with their kids. Oh the irony.

But as I thought back on that August day so many years ago, the song that someone sang at their wedding kept coming back to me – “All in His Own Sweet Time.” I didn’t really listen to the words of that song on their wedding day – I was too busy shooting fiery eye darts at the groom, a.k.a. my soon to be brother-in-law. But I never forgot the name of the song – I only remember actually hearing that title – and now 23 years later it makes sense to me. While this song is a popular song for Christian weddings, it really rings true for the believer no matter your circumstances.

God does plan for all things to come to pass in his own sweet time. According to Proverbs 3, we are commanded to not lean on our own understanding – and that includes the timing of events in our lives. If you type in the word ‘sweet’ at dictionary.com more than 25 definitions pop up. The meanings that seem most appropriate to the thinking of this song are 1) Pleasing or agreeable; delightful, 2) Amiable; kind or gracious, as a person, action, etc., and 3) Dear; beloved; precious. God’s timing truly is sweet – for He knows the plans He has for us – and as it says in Philippians 1:6 – He will be faithful to complete the good work He began in us. And while it may not always seem that we can survive the timing of events and situations in our lives, His mercies are new each morning. God doesn’t allow “accidents” in our lives – everything is for His purposes.

And His sweet timing is perfect…it even allows sister stealing brother-in-laws to grow on you.

My NOT so Secret Identity...

So – as most everyone knows – we live in the presence of a SUPER Wal-Mart. I’m not too sure what’s super about it – other than that you need a tram to get from your car to the front door, and that it makes me feel SUPER weird to have raw hamburger sitting next to a TV remote and car battery in my shopping cart. But of course – that didn’t stop me from turning into a drone and going there myself.

During my latest excursion to Wallingdales, I had some free time on my hands and decided to browse. I started in the bakery, moved slowly into produce, and then the dry groceries. A quick glance in the dairy section, the frozen section, and an Olympic sprint past the baby items. But by the time I had gotten to electronics, something began to hit me. I was looking in my cart, comparing what I was about to spend, and horror set in. “Look at this stuff,” I thought to myself.

There was a plethora of randomness in the items I’d picked up – frozen burritos, $5 t-shirts, potato salad, a moon pie, a Nascar hat (NOT for me), Kool-Aid packets, and hot dogs. And while it was random, its common theme confirmed something I had never been aware of. Yes, I was shopping late at night while hungry, and therefore not making the wisest nutritional choices. And yes, no one over 12 should be drinking Kool-Aid or that Tampico liquid death. But, I was in fact – an undercover redneck.

One glance in my cart and it would have looked like the two most important things in my life were my microwave and my TV – one to cook ALL my food, and the other to watch my shows, ALL starring Jeff Gordon.

Now don’t get me wrong – I come from a long line of “colorful” necked individuals. Most of my cousins on my Mom’s side were born wearing wranglers, refer to any vehicle as a “rig,” and think that John Deere should have been a state senator.

So there I was – in line at Wallys at midnight – horrified to discover my secret identity. And after loading up my car and heading home – there was only one thing for me to do. I drowned my sorrow of this new found knowledge in Iced Tea and baked beans…and watched a half hour of The Nashville Network.

Sleep...glorious sleep...

So it’s nearly 1 a.m. – I’m eating cold pizza, drinking a Squirt and watching Murder She Wrote (and no, I did not lose a bet, I actually watch this show). It’s still close to 85 in the house, and even with my ceiling fan at Mach 1 – I feel like I’m trying to sleep on a flaming Weber grill. I’m reminded of a news story I read once about Jim and Tammy Baker’s estate – which included an air conditioned dog house. Oh, the injustice.

After several commercials (and admittedly functioning on four hours sleep), I finally understand that all products bought and sold are just part of one large conspiracy. If I were to need Cymbalta (which the commercial also informed me is advertised in Redbook), an unfortunate side affect would prompt a trip to Walgreens for Depends. The need for Depends would affect my ‘self esteem’ – thus causing the need for Botox injections – a little boost of confidence. The Botox would then call for a trip to Macys to pick up some virtual reality sunglasses to hide the affects of the initial shots…you see where it’s going. I blame Oprah for this conspiracy– mostly because she’s a weirdy who creeps me out.

So I digress…and now I’m watching the Golden Girls. I want more than anything to sleep, but even the furniture feels hot, what in the world? Another trip to the fridge reveals what I was afraid of – it has become a to-go box graveyard. Thankfully one of my roommates put a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup in the freezer – the perfect snack to wash down the pizza.

These commercials are killin me. Seriously people, how exciting can it possibly be to clean the shower, eat raspberries, or fight gingivitis? If only I had known years ago that a glass of Tropicana juice would bring a spouse…wow…would have been drinking gallons of the stuff. I also would shave my legs hourly, because apparently Venus Razors for Her make you a great volleyball player, surfer, and Olympic Frisbee tosser. Oh no – Ashlee Simpson – now they’ve gone too far, but thankfully she’s the last commercial during this torture session.

Well, off to bed – once again. And hopefully I’ll spend the next six hours watching the inside of my eyelids…

Baptized in Christ...once and for all

Last night I was baptized for the second and final time. God changed my heart at the end of 2007 – and of course – my life. And as I predicted, I was baptized last – which gave me a lot of time to sit and think as the seven before me gave their testimonies and shared what God had done in their life. I thought back on the 31 years before I knew Christ, and the sin that I was a slave to. I thought about the people I love who I’d lost my temper with, didn’t keep my word when I promised I would – those I loved so dearly but sinned against and devastated. I cried when I thought of the things I’d done that I wanted so desperately to erase, of hurts that I knew others had forgiven, but that I had continued to carry the guilt of before I was saved.

As all these things raced through my mind God reminded me of an unchangeable fact – I am a new creature. Who I was – I’ll never be again. Who I lived for (myself – the old me) is gone. It struck me that I am changed, regenerated, saved. I’m saved – which means I’ll never be lost again…ever. While the ebbs and flows of life will be close to unbearable at times, I have hope. And though in the morning I may feel completely confident in Christ, and by the end of the day wonder if He’s still there – I’m saved. My feelings mean nothing when weighed against God’s attributes and His Word – His faithfulness, mercy and grace.

As the people before me dwindled, and my turn to get in the water was quickly approaching, I was overcome with the truth that our Heavenly Father sought me. The Almighty God bought me with the most precious price, His Son – and because of that – He knew exactly what it would take to turn my eyes to Him. I saw God as my Father, who had lovingly disciplined me – knowing that the pain of the discipline would result in my ultimate joy, satisfaction and redemption. I thought of the years that I had feared death, that I had spent with the guilt of my sin on me daily, trying to live each day packed full of regret from the day before. But all that was behind me – and I looked ahead…hopeful.

When my name was finally called – after weeks of butterflies and thinking – I stepped in the water and felt – fearless. God reminded me why I was there – to glorify Him. It didn’t matter if I cried, if I looked horrible without make-up, or how crazy my hair was when I got out of the water. What mattered was that Christ be glorified, and that His name was exalted as a powerful savior who came to this earth to die so that I could step in that water – more than 2000 years later – and declare the magnificence of His changing power.

I praise God that He saved me – that He sought me – that He was merciful and gracious to me. I thank God that He has forgiven me of my sin – that He has changed my heart – and given me hope. And amid the hope and joy – I’m sobered – and reminded of the need to be in constant prayer for my loved ones who don’t know Him. God didn’t wait for me to cry out to Him – but He let me hear Him calling me. I pray that He does the same for those I pray for…who I weep over with hopeful tears, looking to the day that they too will be baptized and glorify His name.