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Yesterday Ro and I took her kids and went to the Indiana State Fair. As previously blogged, we both have a problem when it comes to elephant ears. During fair time, it’s our reason for living.

We got the lemon shake-ups. We got her kids a huge corn dog and chili fries. We got these fried, powder sugar covered dough balls that promised to be as good as elephant ears. (SUCH. A. LIE.) And then we got Emmy a funnel cake and us an elephant ear. Needless to say, after all that, we were a sticky mess. (Especially after *someone* decided to dump sugar all over my leg… πŸ˜‰ )

So off to the hand washing station. Whoever came up with this is a GENIUS! No more futile wiping with a dry napkin that just shreds and sticks to your hands. No more digging ice out of your drink and hoping no one sees you being so uncivilized. No more planning attacks on unsuspecting mothers who are carrying baby wipes. There are now stations with running water! And soap! And paper towels!

Now here comes the snag: both Ro and I have very specific hand washing habits because people are disgusting. So we don’t just turn on the water, wash our hands, and then USE OUR CLEAN HANDS TO TURN OFF THE GERM-RIDDEN FAUCET! We both push down on the paper towel levers first, then wash our hands. I then rip off the first paper towel, use it to turn off the faucet and to get another paper towel down, then dry my hands. Ro, on the other hand, leaves the water running while she dries her hands, then she uses the same paper towel to turn off the faucet.

She then turns to me and says: “Do you ever have to fight with yourself over which is worse to waste: the extra paper towel or the water?

YES!

It’s sooooo much work being this neurotic. But at least we have each other. πŸ™‚

Sisters at heart

Listening: ‘She is Love’ by Parachute

Reading: ‘Surprised By Hope’ by N. T. Wright

Feeling Guilty: For having a donut for lunch. Somehow I doubt that is on the list of good foods to eat.

Thinking: I will make my way back. Someday.

How to Annoy Me: Drive 10 miles under the speed limit, don’t pay attention at stop lights, and swerve all over the road while obviously looking for something in the passenger seat. Pull the SUV over and find whatever it is, DOCTOR, before I call the cops on your ass.

How to Charm Me: Call me and invite me to the state fair so we can finally indulge in our elephant ear craving.

Quote of the Day: What we say about death and resurrection gives shape and color to everything else. If we are not careful, we will offer merely a “hope” that is no longer a surprise, no longer able to transform lives and communitites in the present, no longer generated by the resurrection of Jesus himself and looking forward to the promised new heavens and new earth. – N. T. Wright

1000 Words: P1171584

I am not perfect. Nowhere near it. But that is okay.

I make mistakes. I fall flat on my face. But that is okay.

I say the wrong thing. I make the wrong choice. But that is okay.

Because it isn’t the falling that matters. Everyone falls. Some people do it quietly so no one notices. Others set off a 21 gun salute so that the entire world sees their shame. Everyone lies. Everyone breaks promises. Everyone finds themselves doing things they swore they never would. Everyone hurts other people. That’s part of life and part of allowing other people to come into contact with you. Because we are all broken.

I am a glorious ruin, just like every other person who walks this planet. None of us is perfect. But at the end of the day, it is the people who get back up and try again who earn my respect. That is the type of person I want to be. Not the type of person who wallows in her guilt and continues to let others tell her what a screw up she is. But the type of person who stands back up and says “I messed up and for that I am deeply sorry. But now we have to keep on moving.”

I am not proud of decisions I made in the past. But I am proud of how I have handled myself since then. Making me feel guilty for things is not hard. There will always be something I could have done better and if any of those things is pointed out to me, I tend to beat myself up for them. But I have realized that that helps no one. I have realized that just because I am not groveling and whipping myself with chains that it doesn’t make my repentance and sorrow any less real. I don’t have to prove to people how sorry I am by completely putting my life on hold and staying in bed for weeks. In fact, I think that these things are merely putting on a show.

Repentance means doing what you can to ensure that the bad thing you did doesn’t happen again. And that is what I have been doing. I have been working to become the type of person that is strong enough not to let the wrong person near her. Who is strong enough to say “no” or “get the hell away from me”. Who is strong enough to risk hurting someone’s feelings or making them mad in order to do what is right. Who is strong enough not to allow alcohol to cloud her judgment. Who is strong enough to know when she is being lied to.

My identity is not in what I have done in the past. My identity is who I am – and am becoming – in Christ. I will not let past mistakes or labels define me. I will not let other people’s opinion of me become my reality. I *will* get back up and try again.

Why do we fall? In order to learn how to pick ourselves back up.

1. A friend who takes your side and has the guts to tell you when you’re wrong.
2. One item of clothing that instantly makes you feel twice as beautiful and half as nervous.
3. The occasional good cry, for no particular reason.
4. A man who just cannot get enough of your body.
5. At least as much pay as the guy at the next desk who does the same job.
6. A same-size friend with an incredible closet.
7. A really hot, really fast red car. Failing that, really hot red shoes you can run in.
8. The expensive toilet paper.
9. To sometimes lie back and take, take, take in bed.
10. A grandparent equivalent: wise, huggable, all ears.
11. A life in which you play the starring role.

Things I Have Found πŸ™‚

My keys. My cell phone. My shoes. My school books. My coffee mug. My teddy bear. My faith. My choir music. My driver’s license. My car. My hope. My good black bra. My ability to trust. My glove. My friends. My extra long sheets. My chapstick. My heart. My self-respect. My confidence. My copy of Hollywood Reviews. My way. My ballet slippers. My dreams. My glasses. My favorite blanket. My bathing suit top. My paycheck. My balance. My Hello Kitty lipstick case.

My inner strength.