love is in the air

Pikes Peak looked like a giant Frosted Flake yesterday morning as I walked to church, and I couldn't help but smile... snow! in AUGUST!!! I love Colorado!

All of my belongings are now scattered through my house, and I'm working on a new to-do-list of painting and unpacking and organizing... I love three-day weekends!

The complete second season of House is now out on DVD, just in time for me to get caught up before the third season begins next week. I love technology!

I have bug bites on my arms and neck from getting a little too carried away in my weed-pulling this weekend. I love living in my own house!

A phone call at 11:30pm Saturday night. An unexpected visitor (and shopping companion!) last night. A phone call at 7:30am this morning. Three different emails waiting for me when I arrived at work. I love my friends!

Movie suggestions from Mom. A hammer drill (on loan) from Dad. Accidental phone calls from my almost-two-year-old nephew. A Hello Kitty drawing from my nieces. A camera-phone pic from my brother. I love my family!

I'ts Monday after lunch, and I'm in a good enough mood to recognize and enjoy all these wonderful blessings. I love Dr Pepper!

and in my spare time, i foil would-be shoplifters at the 7-11

There was a point several weeks ago when I thought that taking my time to move out of my old apartment and into my new house was a good idea. Needless to say, I have changed my mind. It was a beautiful theory that now haunts me as I dwell among the boxes that I swear are multiplying on their own, and in rabbit-like quantities. My days at work are consumed with thoughts about the work waiting for me at home, and I spend my lunch breaks creating detailed "to do" lists that even as I'm writing them I know won't ever be completed. It's the pinnacle of my moving insanity -- the only thing I seem to be accomplishing is a bunch of lists of things I need to accomplish. No matter how many details I try to set down on such a list, something always comes up that I didn't think of and I get sidetracked from what I intended to do: old friends move away, new friends start to call, girl friends need to talk, boy friends need to cry... and before I know it, packing or unpacking more boxes is the last thing I have time to do.

So I caved in to my moving delirium this week and hired the services of "Two Men and a Truck" to move the heavy large objects from my apartment. As advertised, two men drove up to my apartment with a big truck yesterday morning; a portly black man named Cliff and a very thin and wiry Hispanic man named Luis (for a visual aid, think Abbott & Costello). They were very friendly and got to work right away, shrink wrapping my couch and orange armchair (they left the white chair uncovered, though... odd...), my corner china-cabinet, my Total Gym... everything. And then they saw the bedroom furniture -- and there were audible gasps. I had to take a few minutes to reassure them that the bed and dresser could be fully dismantled and weren't nearly as heavy as they looked, but even then their eyes were wide and their heads ever-so-slightly shaking back and forth in disbelief.

Three hours later, the piles of furniture and boxes in my new house were so out of control that I had to move boxes of Louis L'Amour books out of my kitchen to get to the box of pots and pans so that I could cook dinner. Even then, the only empty place in the entire house to sit and eat was the stairwell!

And if this weren't enough, I have suddenly found myself moonlighting as "Super Amy, Guardian and High Protector of David's Sunflower Seeds at the 7-11." Yes, yes, it's true -- I caught a shoplifter redhanded at the 7-11 the other night. (Sigh.) See what I mean? Something always comes up to keep me away from those to-do lists... and it's exhausting!

Still, the end is definitely in sight -- it's kind of like being trapped in a caved-in mine, and then someone finally drills through the rubble to provide me with oxygen, Gatorade and a Martha Stewart Living magazine. There is still drilling and digging to be done, but I can finally see my way out. After all, I did manage to assemble my large and very comfy bed last night, so no more sleeping on an air mattress! And as my head sunk into the feather pillow, and I breathed deeply, relishing the cool 65 degrees of my new air-conditioned bedroom, I thought to myself, "It will all be over s..." ZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

a d'backs victory... and other holy moments

I admit it -- I was moping last night. Well, all day, to be perfectly honest. In one short conversation Sunday night all my excitement about moving into my new house just went completely down the drain. One of my new roommates bailed, and I was instantaneously body-slammed by a cruel new financial reality. Not fun. Not fun at all. Of course, there are other fish in the sea, they say, so I shouldn't lose any sleep over the one that got away. But this wasn't just a fish that fell off my hook as I was trying to reel it in -- this was a fish that jumped out of the icebox in the back of my truck as I was driving away from the riverbank after a long day of fishing and wriggled its little scaly body all the way back down to the water. I guess I should've remembered to close the icebox lid.

So yes, I spent the day moping, worrying, and all the other stupid, self-centered things we fallen humans do when things don't go the way we want them to. I know I was at work for nine hours yesterday, but I don't remember doing a bloody thing to earn my paycheck. I just remember scribbling away on a legal pad, trying to think of new waters to explore in my search for another elusive roommate fish.

The irony of my wallowing is that all the while I was "counseling" a friend of mine to remember God's promises and provision. We were emailing about Abraham and Isaac, about the difficult choices we have to make, about the seemingly impossible ways God asks us to trust Him, and I have to admit, I was talking a pretty good talk, but that very moment I knew I wasn't walking it. My hot air is renown (I'm a piper, after all), but my ability to relax and inhale isn't. I talked for hours encouraging my friend to trust God's provision, and all the while that legal pad full of my own provisional ideas was staring me in the face. So I shut up, took a deep breath, and chucked that legal pad in the trash. It was a holy and insecure moment.

What does all of this have to do with major league baseball, you ask? Well, not much, except that the D'Backs exciting victory over the Cubs last night (or as one Cubs-fan coworker more aptly put it this morning, the slaughter) shook me out of my doldrums and helped me refocus my attitude. There I was, sitting in the empty library of my new house, listening to the game through a phone conversation with my mom (they don't broadcast Arizona games here in Colorado), and as I found myself rejoicing over the final out, I realized that what I should really be rejoicing over was the very spot I was sitting in. God had brought me to this house! He hadn't lost track of me -- He knew right where I was sitting. He not only knew, He cared. He's always cared. He always will care. He cares even more about me than I do about the Diamondbacks. It was a holy and humble moment.

And then, just to put His special explanation point on the day, it began to rain. We haven't had rain in quite a while, but it came last night, and the coolness and relief it brought made me almost giddy. Rain has always been God's special calling card for me, His way of saying "And just to make sure you really understand that this is Me talking and that I always keep my promises..." I sat on the back steps of my new house, my bare feet getting wet as they stuck out from under the eaves, and I laughed at myself for all my stupid moping. It was a holy and peaceful moment.

God does provide -- He always has, and He always will. He provides absolutely everything we need -- whether it's a job, a home, a roommate, a soulmate... or just a good baseball game and a bit of rain.