a boot load

In order to alleviate some confusion produced with the last post, I'm coining a new phrase:

boot load - /'boot lohd/ - 1 - N - a large quantity, specifically an amount that might come over the tops of one's rubber boots, if one were to step down; 2 - N- enough to fill one's boots; 3 - V - to be boot loaded - to be overloaded with work; to be overcome; to be filled; 4 - V - to be stuffed into the trunk of a car (usu. when dead)

Where did February go?

Wow. I can't believe that it's actually March.

It's the 5th of March. and 'tis the season of papers and exams...

I don't have much to say today, except that I've been busy with school stuff. Part of me looks forward to being done University for the term, but part of me dreads finding a summer job.

In the meantime, before I decide whether or not I'm happy or sad to be almost done, I've got a whole boot-load of papers to write. One of which I should start now.

I'll see y'all on the flip side....

immense frustration (or) to laugh or to cry?

This week is shaping up to be one of the most frustrating weeks on record, but also one of the strangest. So many things have gone wrong this week, that I just shake my head!! It's reading week, but nothing has stopped except school: I still have to work. I'm leading at church. CARS STILL BREAK DOWN.

There should be a law that says something like this:

cars cannot break down during school holidays.

That would be wonderful. I'd really like that. This has been my day/week so far:

I spent a large amount of time last week trying to find a pianist: NO ONE was available. It was ridiculous! I had called EVERYONE that I could think of: I even phoned my room-mate's mom! No one could do it. We had practice on Wednesday without a pianist. (sidenote: this practice turned out to be a LARGE GONG SHOW anyway, for various reasons including the recent purchase of electronic drums. I'd never played with them before, and they are a good deal different than playing with REAL drums. It was brutal. But I'm learning. end side-note) We prayed on Wednesday for a pianist, and on Thursday, TWO people phoned me, and said that they would be available! It was an incredible God-thing.

All this to say that I needed to drive out to church this morning, and put the chord charts in my new keyboard player's mailbox. And then I was going to go out to a friend's volleyball game: Kristy plays for Red Deer, and they're playing at provincials in Edmonton. So I was going to go....

EXCEPT, that when I got in my Jimmy, and drove it to 7-11, I discovered that the tire was flat. VERY FLAT. And then I tried to pump it up.
Except that the air-pump was broken.

So I thought to myself: I'll just change the tire.

Except that the tire is bolted to the undercarriage of the Jimmy, and I would have had to crawl underneath the truck to un-bolt the tire, to get at the jack, to lift the truck, to loosen the bolts, to take off the tire, and put on the new one...

Hurrah for cell-phones, and a second big-hurrah for Dads!! (see below)After having an interesting little dicussion with the East-Indian lady at 7-11, I walked home.

There was no music at church for my wonderful pianist, and I missed the volleyball games.

I don't know whether to laugh or to scream. Laughing is winning, so far. At least I'm not stranded on a road in the middle of nowhere. I have a pianist, and God will work out the rest. He has so far..... I spent about 30 minutes at KalTire (which is a wonderful place. Everyone should buy tires there. They even gave me popcorn to eat.), got my tire fixed, and dropped off the music at church (2 hours late). BUT... it's all worked out.

I'm going for a nap!
~~~
As a WONDERFUL distraction, I have been looking up some of my favorite worship bands on the net, and
if you feel so inclined, go to http://www.myspace.com/brentonbrownmusic and listen to 1077. This is a great parable, and you'll really like it. I guarantee it.

death: a lament

Last night, one of my friends told me that her fiance's mom had died. An hour ago, I hung up the phone with a guy on my band who told me that his wife's mom just died. That's 2 moms, in less than 24 hours. In one case, it's been an incredibly painful waiting game. In the other, an unexpected, sudden event. I can't really say that I understand, although I have experienced both, because each situation is different.

Death is so painful, rendering the living helpless and dumbfounded. Even though I wasn't close to either of these people, my heart aches for the living, and the journey they've begun. I sat in bed last night, wondering what God's reasons were. I feel like I've been struck dumb. What do you say? What can you say?

And so here is my cry of frustration for the families who have lost mothers, grandmothers, and aunts; for the grandchildren who will never meet grandmothers, for the marriage pictures that will be missing a mother. Here are my tears for the pain that they feel, for the hurt in their hearts, for their sleepless nights and long tiring days.

But here also is my cry to God -- to heal, to bring peace, to use this event to change lives. It's my cry of frustration and anguish, but also of hope and of trust. All I can do from here is give it to God. And so this is my prayer: that these deaths would serve God's greater purpose, and lives would change as a result.

God, be near your hurting children.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.
Ps34:18.

For You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.
Ps56:8

Hippos sweat blood

I don't know how many of you have seen a hippo -- I've seen a few at the zoo -- and man are they strange.

They're big and they smell funny, and they poo everywhere, but more than that: THEY SWEAT BLOOD.

The first day I saw some hippos, I was in Thailand, and it was one of the hottest days I can remember. June or July, and a bunch of us went down to the "Crocodile Farm" to see the sights. All this to say, it was HOT, and those hippos were hot, and when they're hot, they sweat blood.

It seeps out of their skin, and beads on their hide, and then when they get into the water, it slowly dilutes, making the water pink, until it finally disappears.

My Booster Juice cup did this to me today. And I was somewhat less than impressed.

On Tuesday, I went to Booster Juice in anticipation of not being able to have supper. I planned it all out, and I bought 2 -- one for now, and one for later. I put the one for later in the cup-holder in the back seat, because, with the weather as cold as it's been (-15), it's like a freezer.

I used to work at Booster Juice, and I'd freeze my stuff all the time, pulling it out when I was late for class.

Unfortunately, they don't make cups the way they used to, and when I opened the back door today, (much to my dismay!!) my cup had "sweated" red raspberry blood all over the cup, in the cup holder, and down the edge of the door.

And thus, I liken Booster Juice cups to hippos. Unfortunately, hippos are probably easier to clean up after, because I had to cut the cup open to get my slush out, and then mash it into a travel mug so that I could take it back out to my truck:

Woe is me.
Next time, I'm going to just buy one.