If I Just Touch Him

Today I was reading in Mark (chapter 5) about the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years. Something about this story has always struck a cord with me.

And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years. She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse. (Mark 5:25 & 26)

Can you imagine her life? By Mosaic Law she was considered unclean - unable to touch anyone or anything without "infecting" them with her uncleanliness. She spent 12 years of her life as an outcast, skirting the edges of society. Worse yet, because she was unclean, she wasn't allowed to enter the temple to make her sin offerings. For twelve years her religion told her she was unworthy to approach God and ask Him to forgive her sins.

And no one could help her. Can you imagine?

Her husband (if she had one), her friends, her family... all afraid to touch her. I wonder if, at the end of twelve years, there was even anyone still left who cared about her?

The clothes she wore, the blankets she slept on, the food she prepared - ALL of it was filthy. All of it was garbage. Worse than worthless. Unclean.

And then, one day, after going to every healer she could find, only to discover they all failed her, she heard about another Healer - One with the power of God at His command. Can you imagine?

When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his
cloak, because she thought, "If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed."
(vs. 27 & 28)

'Just a touch,' she thought. Only there was no "just" about it. She risked everything - risked the wrath of the crowd and putting the mark of "Unclean" on the robes of the Unblemished One.

She knew she was worthless; unworthy. She knew she had no right to expect anything from this Teacher who could see into people's lives and work healing AND forgiveness. She had nothing to offer Him but the curse of being unclean.

What if she went to Him and He rejected her? What if He saw the filth of her life and was repulsed? How could a man so holy possibly stand to have such ugliness in His presence?

'Just a touch, just a corner of His garment. Just breathe. Just do it.' And then...

Immediately her bleeding stopped and she felt in her body that she was freed from her suffering. (vs. 29)

Could it be? Is it real?

Freedom!

Freedom from the weakness of chronic blood loss and anemia. Freedom from suffering. Freedom from exile. Freedom from loneliness. Freedom from shame. Clean.

At once Jesus realized that power had gone out from him. He turned around in the crowd and asked, "Who touched my clothes?" "You see the people crowding against you," his disciples answered, "and yet you can ask, ‘Who touched me?’ " (vs. 30 & 31)

And here is where my heart stops every time.

I like to believe that Jesus knew she would come to Him that day - that He sensed her working her way through the crowd.

'Come on, my daughter,' I imagine Him silently encouraging her, 'I have freedom and healing here for you. Just come. Just touch Me. All I have is yours if you would just reach for Me.'

I can imagine His secret little smile as she thought, 'Just a touch,' and made her way through the throng of people. I can imagine the love bubbling up inside Him as she reached out in faith. I can see the sweet compassion that softened His face when He transformed her suffering into joy.

And then He turned to her, and asked her to acknowledge what she had received - Who she had accepted. And He waited.

But Jesus kept looking around to see who had done it. Then the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell at his feet and, trembling with fear, told him the whole truth. (vs. 32 & 33)

He waited for her to acknowledge Him and what He had done for her. He waited to hear her say, "It was me, Lord. I was unclean, but You healed me."

Scripture says she fell at His feet and told Him the whole truth. I suspect she poured out all of her shame, all of her fears and all of her pain. And all of the joy of a captive who has been set free.

He said to her, "Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed
from your suffering." (vs. 34)

Daughters of the Most High God! Can you imagine? I can.

Because I've been there.

I've been ashamed, outcast, unclean. I've quietly snuck through the crowds of people clamoring for my Lord's attention - feeling as though I have no right to approach Him and ask for anything.

I've been that woman who wanted just a corner of His garment, just a piece - and I was just as startled when He turned to me and gave me all of Him. I've fallen at His feet and told the whole truth and I've heard Him say, "Daughter, your faith has healed you."

Mount Bethany Blew (it).

The kids were driving me nuts. I have no job. Life is AGGRAVATING me. The last two conversations with the ex had already set me on edge. I can't sleep. I am BORED out of my mind. I'm restless. I feel useless.

All pathetic excuses for losing my temper when there is no excuse.

I blew it. BIG time. I don't even know if I had the right to be mad.

Why?why?why?why?whywhywhywhywhyWHY!!!!!!!!!!! Do I let it get to me?? So that no matter what I say, I look like a RAVING LUNATIC, instead of a civilized human being?

There was zero evidence of Christ in me. None. Urg.

Fetus Fridays - The Dirty on Diapers

I'm going to do something fun for a change. =)


Mayhaps you've heard of her, mayhaps not, but Fabulous AmyBeth (from Ministry So Fabulous) and her Fabulous Roomie are going to be asking baby-related questions every Friday until Fab Baby makes an appearance.

Since I've had four of the precious little angels I figure I have a few opinions... =) So, without further ado, today's question is:

Here’s the question from Roomie and I for this week: Is it possible to begin stocking up on diapers even now, two months before Baby arrives? That’s our biggest (financial) concern, so we’d like to begin buying a pack a week or so. The only thing we’re concerned about is wondering if Baby will end up being allergic to whatever kind we buy therefore leaving us with a whole lot of unusable diapers on our hands. Is this likely to happen or can we safely start buying them? And, what general diaper purchasing advice do you have for us?

There are three issues with buying early 1) the allergy thing (though most babies won't have any reaction at all), 2) the fit - my babies all had thin thighs and certain brands (like huggies) didn't fit them right, other brands don't fit well on fatter-thighed babies and 3) the growth factor. In the first few months Baby will be growing so quickly it is impossible to predict how many of what size diapers you will need ahead of time.

My three full-term babies (my oldest was born 12 weeks early) were large enough that newborn diapers barely fit from birth. You could stock up on a few cases of size 1's only to discover that Baby grew so fast you only needed one of them.

Info I would have KILLED to know beforehand:

Major growth spurts tend to happen on the threes (especially for nursing babies) ... 3 weeks, 6 weeks, 9 weeks, 3 months, 6 months... of course it isn't an exact science, but it gives a generalized idea.

One of the biggest will happen right around 6 weeks - nothing scarier to a new breastfeeding mom than to discover that baby is hungry ALL THE TIME. Don't worry, you're not running out of milk s/he is just working to increase the supply. =) A lot of breastfeeding moms quit at 6 weeks for that reason.

At birth, breast-fed newborns should pee once for every day of life for the first week. So a three-day-old is perfectly fine if s/he only wets three times that day. After a week, all babies breast or bottle fed should be wetting 7-10 times a day, but don't expect the diaper to feel FULL. A full-feeling diaper probably has 2-3 wettings in it. Ew (sorry, that thought grosses me out).

A lot of people will probably suggest you just take the unopened diapers back if they aren't the right size/brand for your baby - but I HATE dealing with "customer service" because they are rarely very "service" oriented.

Honestly, if you want to "stock up," I would start out with a package of Newborns and 2 packages of 1's... then I would suggest getting a loadable gift card to wherever it is you plan to buy diapers (wal-mart and target are a LOT cheaper than Babies 'R' Us or grocery stores). That way you can get whatever brand works best and whatever size you need - and when you have some money to spare, just keep adding to the card. Or have a couple so you and Roomie can each carry one.

I bought my diapers at wal-mart and thankfully my kids all did well with the wal-mart brand. I only let them pee once in the diaper anyway so if the diapers didn't hold a lot, I wouldn't have noticed. Oh, and once Baby is out of size 1's, buy CASES. Size 2's and 3's will fit a lot longer than Newborn and 1's.

Of course... you could always do cloth! =)

The best, absolute BEST advice I can give for diapering, though, is Bourdeaux's BUTT PASTE. Yes, that's what it is called. =) It can be a tad expensive, but oh so worth the price. It works better than any other diaper rash cream out there. Target has little travel packs to go in diaper bags, three packs for $1, in their sample-sized section (oz for oz they're cheaper than the smaller tube of Butt Paste sold on the shelves).

I was so happy to be done with diapers, who would have thought I'd willingly think about them again? =)

Peace... like a river?

Have you ever looked at a river and then wondered how a river could ever be a synonym for peace? It seemed like the strangest thing to me for the longest time... but not anymore.

This morning, a friend (thank you Sallye) emailed me some questions and I responded in email, but I thought I would also share my answers here.

What does peace look like in your life? What does it feel like?
How do you know you have it and how do you know when you don't. What steals it from you?

My vision of peace is going to sound strange I suppose…

Peace, for me, isn’t a lack of pain or struggle. For a long time, I thought that was what peace had to be and if I couldn’t feel that, I was missing the boat.

I was wrong.

Peace for me is when I sit down amidst the wreckage of my life with no one else but God and KNOW, despite the shattered hopes, dreams and promises, that every bit of me is worth something because God says I am.

Peace is waking up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and going back to sleep with the surety that joy comes in the morning.

Peace is the sound of pages turning as I find verse after verse from a book that is over 2,000 years old that still has all the answers to the hurts and shame that live deep inside me.

Peace is knowing that even at my worst, even in the depths of self-pity and loathing, there isn’t a single thing I can do out of hurt, fear or rebellion that will keep my Father from wrapping His arms around me and loving me.

Me!

The most pathetic, wretched, stubborn sinner you could come across, and God loves me. How could I not feel secure in that?

Only sometimes I don’t. And life feels empty and alone. And miserable. When I am missing my peace there isn’t any joy that comes in the morning, just barrenness of spirit. But when I have it? Oh boy. I still cry, I still hurt, but I know that God has something better planned for me and that the best is yet to come.

And still…

...there’s this voice inside me that whispers horrible, insidious little things. This voice points out everything I’ve done and everything that has been done to me and says, “You will never be more than that.” I listen to that voice more often than I should because… well, because there is a tiny glimmer of truth within all the lies.

See, on my own, I never could be more than the broken, wounded monster of a woman that my experiences have made me. But I AM NOT ALONE.

Glory to the God of heaven and Lord of my heart, I am not alone.

The day from... well, you know.

It's been a day. A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. I can't deny it, and don't really want to. What would be the point?

Before you think I'm about to go off on one of my nasty pity-parties, I'm not. Already done and over. (heh, I guess that isn't any better, though at least my two readers will be spared the misery).

There's the job thing and the husband thing and a whole host of other "things" that cloud my vision and stand between me and God - when I let them.

Truth is, I've been doing a lot of letting lately.

I don't have a lot of words today... it has been a battle from the moment I woke up and I am tired. I'm going to go praise God for getting me through it in one piece and then I'm going to try to sleep it off and start again tomorrow.

Home...

What signifies "home" to you? Home is more than just place to live, it is a place of securityand rest. Home is sometimes the only place where you can be entirely yourself. For most people, home is a house or apartment or RV or wherever they happen to keep their clothes and sleep at night.

My house is not my home. It is the same house I lived in with my husband and no amount of new paint, "new" furniture or new decor can erase the memories. I sleep on the livingroom couch because I cannot sleep in what was once my room. I tried for nearly a year, and between the accusations of being a lesbian because I have a female roomate and the nightmares, my own room is intolerable to me.

My mom's house isn't home either. It isn't my childhood home and although I love my mother very much, everything about it is foreign and I can never shake the "guest" feeling.

My church used to be the closest thing I had to home (on this earth anyway). I felt safe and I felt real there. I was given a key a year and a half ago when I took on the S.S. Director role... and I used to go there sometimes in the middle of the night to just sit in peace - to pray, to vent, to rest. I walked into the Sanctuary on Sunday mornings and it was a sanctuary.

Now it isn't. And now I have no place I can call "home." Even when I'm the only human being in the church, it doesn't feel safe. A year ago, I loved church and couldn't imagine ever leaving. Yesterday, I realized that I dread church every Sunday and seriously entertained going elsewhere.

My husband comes to my church. And he sits in the same pew, and even when I get up and move, he moves with me. He touches me before/during/after service and follows me everywhere during potlucks/fellowship times. Now he wants to be more "involved" and maybe even teach Sunday School (say WHAT?).

I walk into the sanctuary on Sunday mornings and I feel confined, restricted and sometimes downright panicked. My stress level is so high, I find myself throwing up at church almost every week. And worst of all, I have to wear this mask because it doesn't feel safe to be real.

I want to go HOME.

Still Wrestling...

Forgiveness is a pretty huge "thing" isn't it? Do we ever stop wrestling with it?

So... it is pretty clear to me that I can't "forgive and forget," at least not the big stuff. No matter how hole-y (not to be mistaken with holy) my memory can get, I just can't make it :::poof::: and disappear. Is that wrong?

No. I don't think so.

Forgiveness is so much bigger than simply forgetting. It is also bigger than just sweeping things under the carpet. And you know what else?

Forgiveness is NOT absolution.

I think that is where I have found myself tripped up lately. I was convinced I hadn't really forgiven my husband because I was unwilling to free him from blame for what he did to me and to our family. I thought that my inability to say, "don't worry about it, it's no big deal, it's ok" meant I was unforgiving.

But it didn't. It doesn't.

When God forgives us, He doesn't say, "it's ok. It's no big deal." Because it isn't ok. It IS a big deal, and while we shouldn't wallow in guilt for the rest of our lives, we should never, EVER stop regretting our sin or feeling responsible for it.

God's forgiveness isn't a Get Out of Jail Free card... because it wasn't free. We can't ever forget that our sin doesn't just go away when we repent. Our sin nailed Jesus' hands and feet to the cross. Our sin cost the Sinless One His life. We don't have to do anything to earn it, but Someone had to pay for it.

So what does that mean for human forgiveness?

I'm still working out those details... but for me, I think it means that I have to acknowledge that the other person has hurt me and acknowledge everything that pain has cost me. And then say, "it isn't ok, and I hold you responsible, and I don't know that I can ever trust you, but I'm going to willingly give up my right to punish you."

"Right." Exactly.

When someone harms you, you have the right to prosecute them to the fullest extent of the law - in spiritual as well as secular courts. When you forgive, you hand that right to demand spiritual punishment over to Justice and let Him sort it out. No one can take that right from you, or demand you give it up. It must come from a completely willing heart.

And once that is done, you've forgiven. You don't have to leave your doors unlocked for a thief, you don't have to believe every word of a liar, and you don't have to put your body back in the hands of an abuser.

I don't have to put my body back in the hands of an abuser in order to say "I forgive you." However, I might have to consider changing a ringtone or two. =)

Wrestling with... forgiveness.

Most of us have cell phones and most of us have phones that allow us to individualize ringtones for each person in our phonebook. My phone allows me to use mp3s as ringtones and with a micro-memory card I can use any or all of the mp3s I have saved on my computer. Technology is so cool. =)

And I bet you're looking at the post title and looking at the post and thinking... "what does this have to do with forgiveness?" Quite a lot, actually.

See, I have this lovely ringtone feature which I enjoy immensely, but which has prompted some questionable behavior. Today it made me question my ability to forgive.

I pick songs like "you're so vain" and "they're coming to take me away!" and "you're a mean one, mr. grinch" for people who are... difficult. I hear a certain ringtone and, without ever hearing a word the caller has said, I start making assumptions. I roll my eyes, get my dander up and go on the defensive before we even reach "hello."

Hmm... is that forgiveness?

:::sigh::: I don't suppose so.

Problem is, I don't have any real answers for what it really looks like to forgive.

I grew up hearing the old addage of "forgive and forget." God can do that. He forgives us and He casts our sin as far from us as the East is from the West (Psalm 103:12). He remembers our sin no more (Hebrews 8:12). For an all-knowing, all-powerful God, that is a pretty amazing statement, don't you think?

Granted, there's a lot of theological debate about what it really means for God to "forget" sin, all depending on what side of the eternal security fence you sit on, but most people would agree that once we are forgiven, God does not hold our sins against us.

Can we say the same thing? I don't think I can.

(more to come)

Bouncy-bouncy... RANDOM!

I'm feeling a bit random today... not rant-y (I know you're breathing a sigh of relief =), just all over the place. So if I jump from one thought to another, don't say I didn't warn you. =)

My kids are driving me nuts. Summer isn't even half over and they spend 99% of their day outside unless they've lost the priviledge and I am still having a hard time coping. The revolving door for drinks, bathroom, snacks and tattling is at the heart of it. I am about to go:

BONKERS! Totally nuts! BONKERS! No ifs ands or buts-buts! BONKERS! Someone's stealing the show... hey kids! I've gotta go go go! Things are getting out of control! Uh. Yeah. I watched waaaaaaayy too much Disney Afternoons as a tween/teen. LOL. (See I told ya I was being random). I need a job.

I am having some very vivid and somewhat disturbing dreams lately... they aren't memories, or anything nightmarish, just uncomfortable. This is part of the reason I haven't been sleeping well.

The dreams have all been centered around difficult conversations with people who I haven't really thought about or concerned myself with for a long time. They're people I've essentially forgotten and certainly don't think about.

And yet the conversations are pretty deep, and pretty important. And the dreams always start with this desperate feeling of urgency. Weird. Psycologists would say I feel unresolved or conflicted about these people (I feel an eyeroll coming on)... but how can that be when I don't think about them at all? Oh well, they're just dreams.

Speaking of feeling conflicted...

Do we ever outgrow that warm rush of pleasure that comes along with the words "I am proud of you."? Will I ever outgrow the feeling of acute embarrassment and (almost) shame at those same words?

I did something incredibly hard the other day and I was a mess of conflicting emotions. On one hand I was relieved and on the other I felt completely worn down. Then someone I look up to told me that she was proud of me and it took everything I had not to lose it. (I cry all over the place in private, but I do NOT cry around other people, not ever). I was so pleased, but at the same time ashamed.

And you know what? I am flat out sick and tired of making myself miserable all the time. How ridiculous! Someone said something nice and rather than accept the compliment, I had to waste it by thinking up reasons it couldn't or shouldn't be true.

This has got to stop. I know this isn't coming from God and isn't what God has in mind for me. Lord, I am so tired of being my own worst enemy. Help me find true humility rather than the false humility of self-deprecation.

And... there was something else I was burning to write about earlier today (well, yesterday since it is now well past midnight) and it is :::poof::: no where to be found in this brain of mine. So it will wait until tomorrow. I wonder who I'll get to talk to in dreamland tonight.

Wrapping it Up With Wide Open Spaces!

This is the 16th and final I AM Bible study lesson.

Wow, it has been some ride. I'm going to have a lot to say with this one, so bear with me.

Girls, there are pillars our God is setting under our faith so that it will be
one that does not shrink back nor is shaken. The idea that God is ENOUGH, that
He is sufficient in every way so I don't have to be is absolutely
foundational for me in a way I didn't comprehend before He led me down a very
difficult road.

I wonder sometimes if our society really understands what "enough" means. What does it mean to be filled to the point of absolute sufficiency? A place where there is never too much and never too little? I suppose to me it means that when it comes to God's power there will always be exactly what I need, exactly when I need it. If I seek God I will never be left wanting.

That is so hard for me to remember sometimes... so hard to apply on a day-to-day basis when it feels as though I am always running on empty.

But I've learned, I am not empty because God can't or won't fill me, I am empty because I haven't asked Him to.

Before this past year, I subconsciously believed I set my own pillars, that I
had to be strong and in control so the house wouldn't come tumbling down. So
when the house did crumble in a most unexpected way I was left amidst the rubble
holding on the only thing which still stood - the pillar of salvation. What is a
girl to do when the walls fall in? The worst thing is to try to rebuild that
thing on the same sand as before.

I suppose the only thing we can do is hold on to Jesus until the storm passes, and then keep holding on to Him rather than what's fallen when it is time to rebuild.

Easier said than done though. I've had the ground washed out from underneath my feet more times than I can count and what I want more than anything is to pick up the pieces and rebuild... but what's the point in rebuilding something that can't stand?

What is the point in clinging to things that can never be enough?

Well, ok, I know the point. They are comfortable. They feel safe. We are fooled into believing they are all we have that has value. And letting go feels like giving up everything that makes us feel secure. Which is no fun.

So what was Moses saying in his prophetic song ["The Lord is my strength and
song, and He has become my salvation; This is my God, and I will praise Him, My
father's God, and I will extol Him." Exodus 15:2]? God has become my Jesus. He
is my deliverance, my safety, my wide open spaces, my unbinding, my Promised
Land.

GOD is my promised land. Just had to say that again. Wow. Before this study, I don't think I ever looked at it that way before. God is my freedom and my endless possibilities. God is my opportunity and my hope.

If I'm honest with myself, I have to admit that I have pretty much lived a life devoid of hope. It was especially bad a few years ago, but even now, I don't allow myself to hope that things might get better. I don't allow myself to dwell on the possibilities. Sometimes I wonder if I really believe that God has the best in store for me rather than "make do."

More of the head knowing what is true and the heart struggling to catch up, I suppose.

I cried like a baby as I pictured Moses on that mountain looking over the
Promise. In my own imagination, I believe Moses' death came just as in the song,
"Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face. And the things of
earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His Glory and Grace." As the
earthly Canaan dimmed, the unfading one appeared. Oh, that we could all go out
in such a whisper.

I cried too. Ok, so I'm still crying. Thank God I can touch type or I would have some serious editing to do.

Sometimes I look at heaven as just another check box on the Christian to-do list. How can that be?? But for some reason, Lisa's description really reminded me of the glory that's waiting.

As bad as life here on earth is... and, as good as it can be, the best is yet to come.

What is one thing God has taught you through this study?

Only one? I guess the title of the study says it all - I AM, so you don't have to be. Over and over and over through this study and the months I've spent working through it, God has shown me that I have to let Him be enough - I have to let HIM, rather than everything else in my life, fill me up if I actually want to be satisfied. The lesson is still in progress, but I'm getting there.

Stupid people shouldn't breed....

I know that this isn't very Christian of me, but why do people insist on being exceptionally stupid on national holidays?? Why do holidays, where we are supposed to celebrate everything that is good in America, become an excuse for people to show off everything that is bad in America?

Incident #1 - A GROWN WOMAN leaves her TODDLER in the road as a large parade truck struggled to negotiate a turn - all so said woman could get at a piece of candy thrown from one of the previous parade trucks. Thankfully the little guy got himself out of the road in time, but c'mon people! Is a 5c piece of candy really worth it??

Incident #2 - Three teenage boys were arrested not more than 10 feet away from where my kids and I were set up to watch fireworks. Why? Because they were walking around selling drugs to people right there in the field. Children everywhere. Police everywhere. Selling drugs. Brilliant.

Incident #3 - Probably a dozen or so other people were arrested for gang fighting throughout the night. In a nice, wholesome suburban neighborhood in a classic Americana small town. These people came out to celebrate the holiday by beating each other to a bloody pulp. God bless America.

Incident #4 - I was driving home from the fireworks display on a scenic highway with a cliff face on one side and a drop to the river on the other. My kids were sleeping in the back seat and I was rockin' to my favorite Christian station, Air1.

Then, some less than intelligent human being decided it would be a hoot and holla' to throw a flaming, spurting firework over the cliff at my van. Had there been someone in the other lane I would have plowed into them as I swerved. Or... I would have had to drive right over the top of the thing as it shot sparks at my gas tank. Choices choices.

My mom and a friend of mine were also driving home on that road and also had fireworks thrown at them. Seriously, what is wrong with people? I could hear them laughing as I drove by. I repent of the words I was tempted to yell back at them.

Thank-you Jesus for protecting my family.

The exciting life of the unemployed!

*The job hunt still isn't going well. And yes, I even looked at Wal-mart. I just sent out another dozen applications and/or resumes so we'll see what next week brings. Oy. There's a lesson in this somewhere, but it is a mighty uncomfortable one.

*Please pray for my kids... their last visit with their father went badly and they're struggling. I could use some prayer too. This is the most time I've spent with my kids in a long time and my parenting skills clearly need some work. (But please, don't pray for the "P" word. It always backfires. =)

*After a little over a year, my church has a new pastor!! The previous pastor and his wife were very important people to me and my children. They are deeply missed. However, the new pastor and his wife are amazing people. They are more than I ever hoped and prayed for and our church is incredibly blessed to have them. Thank you God!

*Also in church news... so much to do, so little time. VBS starts in two weeks and I think I got put in charge of decorating. This is a baaaaaad thing. I love to decorate, I'm even somewhat good at it. However, I tend to get a bit neurotic about it. Lord help me (and the people who have to live with me)!

*I am definitely delaying grad school for a semester. And as anxious as I was (am) to get back in school, I feel a huge weight lifted just by knowing that I don't have to get everything done in the next three weeks. I have three months to let God work, which means I'm less likely to panic and take control back again. Glory hallelujah!

*I.Don't.Like.Heat. Yes, I know, in comparison to other parts of the country, the lower 90s temperatures we've been "enjoying" in the PNW aren't all that hot. And it didn't help that it literally went from being in the 50s to being in the 90s in a matter days. But there is a reason I live in Oregon and scorching HOT is not supposed to be part of the deal. I DO NOT HAVE AIR CONDITIONING!!!! Yes, I have perfected the fine Oregon whine. lol.

See, the sun and I don't get along. For one thing, I am one of those people who burn even when its cloudy. And then I blister. And then I peel back to white. And then it starts all over again. And while sunblock usually helps with the burning, it doesn't prevent my other sun problem - I break out in hives. Seriously. If I spend too much time in the hot summer sun, even with sun block, my skin develops these nasty hives-turned-welts everywhere, even under my clothes. Ick.

*Yawn. I'm tired. I'm not sleeping well these days and my kids are still waking up at zero-dark-thirty. If I don't wake up with them, they get into all kinds of mischief. So. That's it for now. I'm going to try to go to sleep at nearly midnight when it is still EIGHTY degrees. (Did I mention the lack of A/C?) Exciting huh?