Polish Wedding Wedding Polish

Posted on August 25, 2013 by Jan C. Johnson

Last month Greg, my younger son, married his lovely fiancée. I looked forward to the celebration with great joy, Katie being as sweet and precious a prospective daughter as I could have hoped.

Mere hours before the rehearsal, though, we almost had to postpone the whole wedding.

The problem?

My nail polish.

Come on, this is serious. I was packing for a two-day stay in Denton and simultaneously trying to enhance my glamour factor.

Being a total klutz at nail polish (it’s right up there with hot surfaces), I fixed my toes first. A coral-pink shade topped by a glitter layer which, if I do say so, looked pretty fetching. Then, while I was practiced up, I tackled the fingers. Knowing my klutziness, I chose a sheer, opalescent shade for my hands. If I can’t get all the stray polish off my fingers, it doesn’t show up too badly.

Being left-handed, applying nail polish with my right hand is, to say the least, awkward. So I did my left hand first. Then I allowed plenty of time for it to dry, so I wouldn’t mess up my left hand trying to polish the right-hand nails.

Meanwhile Eric, my firstborn and Greg’s best man, arrived from Killeen and offered to drive me to Denton. Oh good. I can just put the polish on my right hand in the car.

So I ferried my suitcase and hanging clothes to the car, in between rushing around to grab almost-forgotten items. When it was time to leave, I could not find my sheer nail polish anywhere. I had packed the coral and glittery ones, along with a bottle of clear polish, in case my toes needed repair. But where was the pretty opalescent stuff? Gaaah! I had to leave with only one hand manicured.

This was an unmitigated disaster. Because it’s all about how the mother of the groom looks, right?

Eric and I found the wedding venue, decorated the tables for the dinner, and went to our hotel to change.

Once at the hotel, I made do using some of the clear polish to remove the beautiful opalescent polish from my left hand. Then I managed to apply the coral stuff (no glitter) without getting any of it on my fingers… at least, not past the first knuckle. Fine. I’ll just keep my hands moving so if they are in a photo, they will be blurry.

Brent joined us in due time. The rehearsal went great and the dinner ran smoothly. Smoother than my nails, I can tell you. On the wedding day, the family and all the guests gathered. Brent escorted me to our seats. Moments later, my handsome son stood at the front of the crowd with a stunningly beautiful Katie and their worship pastor. Suddenly Greg seemed to morph from a young man into a skinny third-grader. Do all moms feel this way when their kids marry? I blinked, and he was a grown man again, love and commitment in every aspect of his face and voice.


What a marvelous weekend, working on decorations together, getting to know Katie’s family better, sharing these two who now belong to all of us as well as to each other. My family keeps growing. What a blessing!

Hm… maybe a wedding isn’t all about how the mother of the groom looks.

Thanks for reading,
Jan

I hope you’ll join me for coffee over at Rachel Anne’s Company Girls.
Also, some of my friends are sharing tales of summer renewal, refreshment or release. I’m linked up with them at the Soli Deo Gloria party.

Posted in I Remember When... (my OWN stories) | Tagged , , , , , | 19 Comments

Belief, Faith, Trust

Posted on August 19, 2013 by Jan C. Johnson

I work with words all the time. Lately I’ve been thinking about three words that are all related but don’t share the same meaning. Namely, “belief,” “faith” and “trust.” Many times, in talk about everyday things, any of the three would do. But when you get down to the nitty-gritty of the spiritual realm, the distinctions between them come into play.

Being sort of picky about expressing my meaning clearly, especially when it’s about something of eternal importance, I try to use just the right words. With that in mind I set out to understand the difference between belief, faith and trust, particularly in the context of the Christian faith.

Here, I’ll share my notes with you…

Belief is an intellectual agreement but may not be internalized. A belief could simply be an opinion. I believe that hummingbird flying around in the yard is a Thalurania refulgens, but I could be wrong. Does it matter? Not really.

But suppose a particular belief of yours–an important one–is true. Does believing the truth benefit you? It depends on whether or not you choose to act on that belief. You may believe smoking is bad for you, but that won’t keep your lungs healthy if you chain-smoke three packs a day.

As a spiritual example, consider what the apostle James wrote: “You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that–and shudder.”

Clearly, the demons’ belief in God doesn’t put them in his good graces, since they are still working against him.

Can you imagine how much trust THIS takes?

Faith builds on belief with action. Belief may agree a jet will get me safely to Denver, while faith actually walks into the jet and sits down. In the Christian faith, you believe that God means what He says in the Bible and you act on that belief. My relationship with Jesus started when I agreed with him that I had failed to live up to his perfect standard, and asked him to forgive me. I committed myself to follow him, flaws and all. I “got on the jet,” as it were.

Faith moves you to act, but aren’t you sometimes afraid to do the thing you know you should? I sure am. Faith may be plagued with fear, doubts or worry, but still acts despite these nuisances. With experience, I’ve become more comfortable obeying Jesus’ instructions. As he keeps promise after promise, my faith has grown to more often illustrate the third word…

Trust confidently expects Jesus to do what he says he will do, for me. I have spent some time pondering the difference between Faith and Trust. In my mind they are almost the same, but trust is always characterized by calm confidence. Going back to the jet example, Faith could worry all through the flight to Denver and hold its breath during the landing sequence. Trust is more likely to sleep or enjoy a book, never giving a thought to possible danger.

It’s worth noting, though, that both Faith and Trust arrive safely in Denver. The difference is in how much each enjoyed the flight.

As near as I can figure (and I’m no expert), the bottom line is your attitude toward Jesus…

Belief: Jesus exists, but I’m not sure I want anything to do with him.
Faith: I want to obey Jesus and I will, but I’m afraid I may fail, or not like the results.
Trust: I can do whatever Jesus wants me to because he’s got my back. I’m safe.

Growing from belief to faith to trust is quite an adventure. Frequent slip-ups and general human frailty being what they are, I expect to spend the rest of my life at it.

What about you? Have you taken a leap of faith? How did Jesus come through for you?

Thanks for reading,
Jan
This week I am linking up with Jen for the Soli Deo Gloria party!

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How Healthy Weight Loss Almost Got Me Into Deep Yogurt with the Department of Homeland Security

Posted on August 6, 2013 by Jan C. Johnson

Two of our dear friends, a young couple from Venezuela, gained US citizenship recently. Since this is a really big deal, we determined to attend the ceremony.

Complicating our trek to the US Citizenship and Immigration Services office was a light rain that had been falling for more than a day. Rain, in July? We really needed a good rainfall, but even a drizzle takes its toll on commuter traffic.

We took umbrellas and I even threw my ugly blue nylon jacket into Brent’s car. Brent had “won” the jacket when he and the boys were at the Oklahoma D-Day paintball game years ago. A vendor threw prizes out into the crowd, and the package Brent snagged turned out to be a women’s size extra-large rain suit. This immediately became a hot potato that none of them wanted anything to do with. They finally used HazMat tongs to take it to the car, and managed to get it to me without touching it. I didn’t especially want it either, but I keep it in case of emergency.

Anyway, thanks to the squirrelly traffic it took us just over an hour to drive the forty-ish miles to the USCIS office. When we parked, the rain had backed off but it was still sprinkling. Fearing the industrial-strength air conditioning common in government buildings, we used our umbrellas. Rationale: you don’t want to get wet before going into government-issue air conditioning. Believe me, you’ll end up as a popsicle.

Inside the airlock we found a dispenser prominently offering umbrella bags. Taking the hint, we bagged our umbrellas so we wouldn’t drip all over the shiny floor. These we got to juggle while we went through a miniature version of airport security complete with metal detector, a measure I should have expected but didn’t.

When the security guy told Brent to remove his belt I got slightly worried. See, thanks to my Fitbit and a focus on lightening up my menu, I’ve lost about 14 pounds from around my middle this year. That morning I wore my black skinny jeans, now a good two inches too big around the waist, and a much-needed belt.

Knowing my belt buckle wouldn’t get through the metal detector, I took the belt off and put it in the plastic bin with my umbrella, phone and Kindle. Ooops, and my Fitbit. Then I had to scooch through the metal detector and on around the conveyor, surreptitiously hanging onto a belt loop so I wouldn’t lose my pants. At last my purse and bin rolled out of the airport-style X-ray machine.

Now all I had to do was lift the hem of my blingy drapeneck top enough to feed the belt back through the loops, while somehow neither flashing the crowd or, again, losing my pants. I managed this delicate operation with more haste than grace, and without looking at the Homeland Security people. If they were watching I just didn’t want to see the expression on their faces, you know?

In due time the ceremony started. Even I found it pretty emotional, and I was born here. I can only try to imagine the feelings of the 97 people from 35 different countries who were being sworn in. I mean, even with all her faults the US is an amazing nation.

Brent and I enjoyed hanging around afterward, congratulating some of our freshly minted fellow citizens and taking photos of our friends beside their new flag. We had never attended a naturalization ceremony before, and I came away with a fresh appreciation for this land.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better go shop for some black skinny jeans.

In my size.

Thanks for reading,
Jan
PS: I am linking up with Jen and the Soli Deo Gloria sisters, as well as Rachel Anne and my Company Girl friends.

Posted in I Remember When... (my OWN stories) | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 19 Comments

Waste Not. . .

Posted on July 23, 2013 by Jan C. Johnson

I grow carrots in my little backyard veggie garden. In the last three years I haven’t had to buy carrot seeds… I let the carrots provide them for me. Here’s the top-secret, fancy-schmancy procedure…

1. Plant a lot of carrot seeds, water frequently, and wait for the plants to grow.

2. Pull up a few plants whenever they seem big enough and/or you need some carrots.

3. In summer, get busy and forget about the garden for a week… or five.

4. Now, notice a few plants have bolted and begun to bloom.

5. Cut most of the pretty Queen Anne’s Lace-like flowers for indoor enjoyment.

Carrot blooms: Pretty AND Practical

6. Back in the garden, the remaining flowers will mature and go to seed. Like this…

Such an Awkward, In-Between Stage

Such an awkward, in-between stage

7. And later, like this…

This hardly looks like a flower cluster any more

Yike, it hardly looks like a flower cluster any more.

8. And finally, like this…

Carrot Seeds. NOT Alien Bugs.

Carrot seeds. NOT alien bugs.

9. Collect just one or two medium-size clusters to plant at will. Between those seeds, and the ones that fall to the ground without your knowing it and sprout on their own, I can almost guarantee you will have plenty of carrots for the next season.

10. If you want to be really organized, plant or scatter carrot seeds in patches, a few dozen at a time, every couple of weeks. Around North Texas with our mild winters, carrots grow year round. A little frost doesn’t seem to faze them.

Now you are back at step 2, pulling up carrots as needed and letting a few plants go to seed during warm weather. Repeat indefinitely.

I love how nothing in a garden needs to go to waste. You can even pull up the spent plants and compost them to improve the soil, or use them to mulch around the rest of your plants.

Thanks for reading!
Jan
PS: By the way, the top-secret procedure works for lettuce and other crops, too. As a matter of fact, I have a couple of nearly-ripe grape tomatoes out there, sprouted from a grocery-store tomato that got too soft to use. Waste not, want not!

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Poll Results: Thank You

Posted on July 19, 2013 by Jan C. Johnson

This is a bonus post to share the results from “Post #200: YOUR turn.”

I knew it… I just knew it. You people would rather laugh at me than absorb my great literary or philosophical thoughts. I see how it is.

So far, the results from my July 8 poll show that in the Favorite Category question, Goofy Stories about Random Mishaps took 42% of the votes. 50% counting the sentiments expressed under “Other.” That’s more than twice the second-place category, “Thoughts on Two Wheels.”

Now that I think about it… my bicycling ability being what it is, many of those posts are also cross-categorized under the “mishaps” department. Which I extrapolate to mean about 65% of you are just waiting for me to embarrass myself yet again.

Fine.

Okay, I admit this didn’t surprise me much. The result that did startle me was for the second question, whether you prefer variety or would rather see a single focus for this blog. I expected the results to be fairly close. However, a full 87% of you said to keep the variety. Of the “Other” answers, all said pretty much the same thing, except for one responder who was merely impressed at my figuring out how to insert a poll.

Not one single person wanted me to change the variety of topics. Not one.

So, you asked for it. Don’t worry, you’ll keep getting it. . . the good, the bad, the ridiculous and the ugly.

But I can’t resist putting in one great philosophical thought… I’m learning that while expert advice is often valuable, it ain’t the Gospel. No expert can know all the variables that pertain to you. So, respect and listen to the experts in your field, but don’t just blindly follow everything anyone tells you.

Thank you again for taking time to respond to my little surveys! I will leave the voting open in case you missed the post earlier or you would like to share it with someone else. (The link is just below the title, or you can simply back up two pages.)

Thanks for reading… and for talking back to me!
Jan

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Empty Collar

Posted on July 15, 2013 by Jan C. Johnson

One afternoon last week I took my scruffy old yellow Lab mutt to the vet… and came home alone.

AggieWe adopted Aggie when she was about six months old. Her wide, goofy smile and mellow disposition won all our hearts.

Shortly after she joined the family I took her to obedience school, where we learned to walk together with a leash. She was a model student, sitting whenever I stopped and doing “Aggie, down” to perfection. She could “Stay,” too. When I was ready for her to move on, the signal was “Aggie, free!”

But to graduate, the dogs had to “Sit / stay” for one minute, and “Down / stay” for three minutes.

Three minutes might as well have been an eternity. Before I could say, “Aggie, free!” her enthusiasm always got the better of her and she “busted” with half a minute to go.

Aggie never did graduate.

And yet, she overcame her early lack of education to become a top-notch “therapy” dog–for the family, at least. As she panted into even the crabbiest face, no bad mood was deep enough to withstand her adoring stare. Soon we would be rubbing her thick fur and feeling as if all was right with the world again.

Aggie wasn’t perfect, though. Her youthful quirks included chewing on wood, starting with the lattice-work around the deck. I’m convinced she numbered the slats and removed them one by one to eat. She ate the bark off our firewood,too. Every log ended up somewhere in the back yard, utterly naked.

More amusing was her uncanny ability to balance on her hind legs. Stand around eating a piece of cheese, and there she’d be–nose just below your elbow, front paws neatly folded as she kept her eyes on the prize. If you stepped away she would just follow you, still on tippy-toes.

I thought this was all cute and harmless until the day I got called out for a quick errand, just as I had fixed two Sloppy Joes and set my plate on the kitchen counter. I grabbed my purse and dashed off, leaving Aggie inside. When I came back, nothing remained on the counter except a perfectly clean plate, right where my lunch had been.

From then on, we kept food well out of reach.

As Aggie aged her hips failed her and cataracts clouded her brown eyes. By 15 1/2 years, she developed diabetes, lost weight and became both blind and deaf. Everything startled her. Seeing my girl so timid and lost broke my heart…

So last week we made one more trip to the vet. I didn’t know whether or not I would bring her home, but I knew I was going to feel guilty either way.

People can adapt to disabilities and work around them, but Aggie couldn’t understand what was wrong. I didn’t want her to be afraid any more. That’s what made up my mind.
Empty collar

From the day you adopt a pet, you know this other day is coming. I held her while the vet sedated her. I leaned down with my cheek against her head so she could feel the vibration as I told her, “Aggie, you’re the best dog.” Then the final injection and her faithful heart came to rest.

Aggie, free.

Thanks for reading,
Jan
PS: Next time I will share the results of the poll I took last week. You can still go back one page or click here to give me your input. I value your opinion.
Jan

PS: I am linking up with Rachel Anne and the Company Girls to share some coffee and a hug.

Posted in Grief Anticipated | Tagged , , , | 15 Comments