People are just so…

“People are just so… human.” – Autumn Dawn Leader

Infuriating?

Exasperating?

Seriously screwed up?

Fallen?

I remember that idiotic book that came out some decades ago entitled, “I’m Ok, You’re Ok.” I have always wanted to write one in retaliation titled, “I’m not OK, and neither are you!”

I know, it is a very Christian term to use the word “fallen” to describe humanity. But, look at the world, PEOPLE! I’d say that fallen describes people better than any other word. Fallen below what? Well, as a Christian, I believe fallen (FAR) short of the glory of God. But, whatever you believe (and, I am seriously not wanting to get into any theological debate of any sort – there are other places to do that…and, I repeat, that place is NOT my blog), humanity is a wreck, and the condition is most easily seen when more than one of us decides to engage with any other one of us. Because, as I have said before, no one has an untainted perspective. We carry our messed up selves into every interaction, whether casual or more intimate. What a recipe for potential disaster.

This sounds depressing, doesn’t it? Well, I would say, you are reading my blog, aren’t you? However, while there is great potential for disaster, there is also a decent amount of potential for great good.  And, while I am most definitely NOT what anyone would dare to call a “people-person”, there are one or five of you (give or take 2 or 4) who I am so very grateful for, and this pre-posthumous existence is made better because of your existence.

People are just so…

Loved.

We certainly aren’t very lovable. But, my my, when I think that Perfection clothed Himself with humanity for me. Wow! The death, the pain He suffered… unimaginable in it’s fullness and entirety, but – had it been me (who has no fear of death, who welcomes it as the end of the pre-posthumous existence), I’d have been thinking… “But, soon the suffering will be over!” The thing that gets me, that amazes me, is that He chose to be human – with all the weaknesses and frailities and potential for massive screwed-uppedness. He did that (and didn’t screw up) for me… to raise me above my humanity.

This post went a bit further than I had planned. I trust it went exactly where it was meant to go.

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Everybody Hurts…

…sometimes.

Last night, for an event at my church called Jobel’s@7:07, I sang my cover version of the R.E.M. song “Everybody Hurts”, accompanied on guitar by the cosmically talented Mr. Bob Breeze.

The night was all about suffering, you see. Something that, well, if you’ve read many of my posts, you know I am not a stranger to.

I like this song, and I feel I did an overall good interpretation of it (it’s good; watch the vid, people!)…AND I certainly understand the lines that talk about days and nights being too long and feeling like one has had too much of this life. But…

It’s that encouragement to hang and hold on that gets me.

Oh, I know I’m not alone. I know that not everyone suffers from depression and mental illness, but – it’s true that – EVERYONE does hurt, sometimes. And, while many do not suffer with severe depression, anxiety, etc., there are quite a few who do. So, in these regards, I am not alone.

I also know that I am not alone when it comes to having an amazingly supportive husband, a few dear and precious friends, and a loving, saving, God of hope and healing.

Oh, yes. I am certainly not alone.

And yet… sometimes holding/hanging on is more than difficult; it is excrutiating.

And, I know…

I’m not alone.

Just The Thought Of Me (or “Why I Believe In Miracles”)

image

My day was made this morning when my husband texted me from work to let me know that the thought of me had, well, turned him on (I won’t share the exact verbiage for those with more sensitive sensibilities…suffice it to say, his jeans were a bit tight).

Later, when I met him in town, I was delighted to see “that look” in his eyes when he caught sight of me walking toward him; “that look” is just something that is impossible to fake.

It amazes me. We’ve been married nearly nine years. And, as so often happens with men, he has aged well…while, as so often happens with women, I have not (it isn’t fair, I know…it’s life). To have him still (genuinely and sincerely) think of me that way, to have just the thought of me causing him to feel that way…well, WOW. It doesn’t make sense. It defies logic. It’s awesome, and I am soooo blessed! If I didn’t already believe in miracles, this would do it.

Beauty Is A Beast

First of all, I want to thank those of you who have started following my blog. I really appreciate you taking the time to read (and sometimes even comment) on what I take the time to write. I recently moved my blog from Posterous (which was more like PREPOSTEROUS) to the lovely WordPress here…and, well, it’s been a good move. And, I wanted to mention and say thanks to you who are coming along for the ride. If you have a moment, I’d be thrilled if you’d check out my music and, if you have the evil Facebook, if you’d “like” my Facebook Page I would be seriously delighted (encouraged, happy, my day would be made).

Anywho (enough of my gratuitous shameless plugging), today I want to talk about the ugly business of beauty. Don’t worry, I’m not going to lament about the media and sterotypes and all that stuff (which I, and others, have lamented long and loud on many occasion in various ways and sundry manners) but, rather, talk about some practical matters to do with the mop on my head known as… hair.

In my (too) many years on this sphere, I have worn my hair in a number of different styles. Some have been good, while some others have been not so fabulous (the 80’s have a lot to answer for). I think it was most popular, however, in the times when it was very, very long (but very very long and very very young always seem to go together…and I’m no longer even young, let alone very very). Every time I got a wild hair (pun intended, of course) and decided to cut it short I ALWAYS regretted it (with many tears) UNTIL my asymetrical cut. With it, I finally found a short cut that looked…well, good, actually.

Now, then…comes a couple of months ago and my husband says something to me that lets me know he’d really like me to grow my hair out again. I literally panicked. Growing hair out of a layered short cut is an ugly nightmare. It goes through what feels like ages and ages of stages (rhyme not intended but, oh well, free poem, no extra charge) of varying degrees of U.G.L.Y. (you ain’t got no alibi…other than you are growing out your hair, of course…). I thought, surely, growing hair out of an asymetrical would be an even worse case of dishevilled wreck until it would look anywhere close to decent again. However, I was saved from actual decision making by having no funds to go to the hairdresser to get my hair done. I steeled myself: I was going to have to embrace ugly.

However, I have some rather shocking news to share with you. Since deciding to (or being forced to decide due to necessity – when I say I am a starving artist, I mean it… food and clothes for the kids are more important…do you feel guilty yet for not checking out my album, singles, etc… what are you waiting for? Oops, sorry…gratitutous plugging – pathetic pity party – creeped in again…I do apologise profusely…moving right along), I have actually had more good hair days than bad ones. Oh sure, now, ugly has visited… but, so has creativity and ingenuity….and, I don’t just mean hats and headbands…although, those are good, too.

Headband

So, a little over a week ago, I donned a headband and thought… hmmm…ok, this works. But, then…ouch! I got a headache from the thing pinching the sides of my head.  But, I suppose, it’s like the pain from wearing highheels, isn’t it? Beauty is a beast.

So, then we come to Friday night of last week… and I have a “suddenly moment”.  I’m sitting on the sofa, and I run my fingers through my growing hair… and I essentially do what might be considered the female equivalent of  “the comb over”.  I flip my part to the other side!

The Flipside

The Flipside

I picked up my phone to see my reflection and thought, ‘Ooh, that’s not too bad’, and I snapped this little visual. When an ad break finally caused my husband to turn away from the TV to look at me, he exclaimed (with a certain look that I love in his eye), “Oh! Hello there!”

I smiled back… seductively, as is my wont to do when he looks at me that way, and responded, “So, you like it then?” To which, with conviction, he said, “Oh, yeah.”

And, I knew… I had it! The way to survive a bit more of the beastly growing hair out experience.

I wore my flipped-out-comb-over hair to church on Sunday and got a compliment off of someone who has exceptionally high beauty standards (his wife is gorgeous, and so is he for that matter) U’h, here I am sure I should put in a reminder that God does not look at the outer appeareance but, rather, at the heart…  it was just really nice to get that surprise compliment from someone so sparing with praise of that sort.

I think this is the first time I have “flipped out” and had it be a positive thing.

So… do I recommend an asymetrical? Yes. By all means. It’s funky and cool. It’s also surprisingly not so horrendous to grow out of (when the time comes to do so…all good things, and all that).

Do I think beauty is hard work? Most of the time, yes; it can be painful and frustrating and down right demoralising.  But (and I do love a big but, don’t you?), sometimes, just sometimes, the beast’s teeth are slightly less sharp than at other times, and we should celebrate and be thankful for those times (thus this post, which I hope you have enjoyed reading as much as I have enjoyed writing).

Oh, yeah, and last point: isn’t it good to know that not ALL “comb overs” are a bad thing?