I always knew this guy was top notch. I mean, pleading with the Lord and having him grant your wishes to keep your language in tact, successfully taking instruction to build water vessels, seeing His finger make stones shine endlessly...this is one seriously cool guy.
Now, I'm pretty sure building vessels that are tight like unto a dish cannot be easy. And, given that these suckers were the as long as a tree is tall...whoa. That probably seemed insurmountable to him and his brother at times.
Last night, however, a different part of the story hit me:
Ether 2:24 For behold, ye shall be as a whale in the midst of the sea; for the mountain waves shall dash upon you. Nevertheless, I will bring you up again out of the depths of the sea; for the winds have gone forth out of my mouth, and also the rains and the floods have I sent forth.
He knew how heinous the trip would be...but he still did it. In a completely submerged, tree length, air-tight boat. Hero.
(Ah the joys of daily scripture study...thanks for the pep talk M.M.)
Friday, May 28, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
The ballot is in...
Hmmmm. I have mixed feelings. For a Gaga tribute, it was relatively normal. In fact, I down right enjoyed the first number. But, seriously? A mother/daughter Poker Face? Weird. But gorgeous. As for the story lines...I'd have to agree with TE: enough with the highlighting Kurt's choices. Move on and just crank out the great music, please.
My fave line: "How'd your dads come up with the name Rachel?" "They were big FRIENDS fans." LOVE that my two favorite shows are linked.
(Bring on Regionals. Can't wait for it...next week looks all sorts of crazy.)
My fave line: "How'd your dads come up with the name Rachel?" "They were big FRIENDS fans." LOVE that my two favorite shows are linked.
(Bring on Regionals. Can't wait for it...next week looks all sorts of crazy.)
Monday, May 24, 2010
Some days...
"Some days, it doesn't pay to get out of bed." I've heard this said countless times in my life. Today, I'm living it.
Exhibit A: This is the sight that greeted me in P-town this morning, on the 24th day of May, 2010.
That's right. Three inches of snow at my house. What the? Should have walked right back into my house, marched up to my bed, and climbed back in.
Exhibit B: At 11:51 AM, I received an email that began like this:
"Dear Karen,
Your application has been reviewed. Unfortunately..."
Need I go on? Remember my snooty post a while back about formalities? Here we go again. Thanks for wasting my time again, Y.
Exhibit C: (no pic available) Today, I'm fighting with Comcast. They're doing a digital conversion next month, which is great and all, except they forgot to tell any of us what in the free world to do to prep for it. Sure, they emailed me two months ago, but have they done anything since? Nope. Then, on Saturday, the creepy warnings of TV death scrolled across the bottom of my screen. Whatev. I slammed the chat-room door in my virtual Comcast analyst's face about a minute ago. Completely unhelpful. Seriously. Maybe I should put Kate on the case...
So, here I sit, at 12:36 PM, comatose in my cubie. Revving up the neurons needed to turn the page on the DU paper today, I see this...
This kid, 13 years old, climbed Everest. Really? I'm pretty sure I was barely surviving simple conversations with boys, having finally mastered the urge to wear only full-on sweatsuits to school, and memorizing a list of prepositions for Austin's English class. Not climbing the highest peaks of the world. That's it. Where's my bed?
Exhibit A: This is the sight that greeted me in P-town this morning, on the 24th day of May, 2010.
That's right. Three inches of snow at my house. What the? Should have walked right back into my house, marched up to my bed, and climbed back in.
Exhibit B: At 11:51 AM, I received an email that began like this:
"Dear Karen,
Your application has been reviewed. Unfortunately..."
Need I go on? Remember my snooty post a while back about formalities? Here we go again. Thanks for wasting my time again, Y.
Exhibit C: (no pic available) Today, I'm fighting with Comcast. They're doing a digital conversion next month, which is great and all, except they forgot to tell any of us what in the free world to do to prep for it. Sure, they emailed me two months ago, but have they done anything since? Nope. Then, on Saturday, the creepy warnings of TV death scrolled across the bottom of my screen. Whatev. I slammed the chat-room door in my virtual Comcast analyst's face about a minute ago. Completely unhelpful. Seriously. Maybe I should put Kate on the case...
So, here I sit, at 12:36 PM, comatose in my cubie. Revving up the neurons needed to turn the page on the DU paper today, I see this...
This kid, 13 years old, climbed Everest. Really? I'm pretty sure I was barely surviving simple conversations with boys, having finally mastered the urge to wear only full-on sweatsuits to school, and memorizing a list of prepositions for Austin's English class. Not climbing the highest peaks of the world. That's it. Where's my bed?
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Today I'm about the videos...
Only one more, I promise. I just had to kick this one out there again. I know, I've already made it clear that I'm a serious Gleek. Here's proof that the music is what makes it worth watching. (Til you're hooked, and you start caring about the characters too.) This is one of the stars of the show, before it came out. She started in the roll of Little Cosette in Les Miserables at age 8, and then grew into the roll of Eponine until recently. Now, I know I'm also a broadway musical fan, but peeps...check this. Goose bumps. Every time. Hit it, Lea...
HILARIOUS neuropsychologist
I have forwarded this puppy around once before. But it is STILL hilarious. I wish I could see this guy in person...and I ain't even married! Enjoy.
Mark Gungor, I salute you.
Mark Gungor, I salute you.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
Undeniable miracles
So, if you're in my life, you've probably heard me rant about the myriad of miracles I have seen regarding this stinking thesis. (I have decided to wait until the thesis is over to post about these momentous occasions en mass.) Well, yesterday, I forgot about them. I'm pretty sure HF and the blessed souls in charge of helping me through are thinking, "Seriously? Attention span of a gnat? That's all you can give us, 30 year old!?!?"
Sadly, sometimes, yes. Yesterday was one of those times. As I sat down to fail at writing my thesis for the I-don't-know-how-many-eth time, my spirit dragged. Really? It's actually going to be this hard? Bah. So, I moped my sorry can out to my car having stroked a mere three sentences in two hours. Tears began to threaten the cheeks as I cruised back down 900 East.
Some time later, while chatting with my mom, it dawned on me that I had been horrifically careless about my rings 3 hours earlier when I needed lotion during ward prayer. I'm particularly attached to one of them, so, naturally, my readily-surfaced emotions kicked in, causing my voice to quiver.
Moms always know when there is something wrong, but, for some odd reason, I always try to hide it anyway. I should know better than that...Dispirited Karen is a wuss. I felt like a 6 year old as I allowed her reassuring words of the increased likelihood of finding it tomorrow (when I might not be so riled) to flow in one ear and directly out the other. I continued to ransack my closet three times over, knowing I'd left the ring unceremoniously stuffed into the pocket of my now-hung-upside-down jeans...to no avail. I'd had it. The energy being spent on keeping the flood-gates in tact pittered out, and the tears prevailed. Sensing that I couldn't really be consoled, she offered what should have been an obvious choice: pray for help in finding it.
Friends, I'm here to testify that He is there, tirelessly waiting for you and I to turn around and greet Him. What happened next can only be done justice in very precise form:
Sadly, sometimes, yes. Yesterday was one of those times. As I sat down to fail at writing my thesis for the I-don't-know-how-many-eth time, my spirit dragged. Really? It's actually going to be this hard? Bah. So, I moped my sorry can out to my car having stroked a mere three sentences in two hours. Tears began to threaten the cheeks as I cruised back down 900 East.
Some time later, while chatting with my mom, it dawned on me that I had been horrifically careless about my rings 3 hours earlier when I needed lotion during ward prayer. I'm particularly attached to one of them, so, naturally, my readily-surfaced emotions kicked in, causing my voice to quiver.
Moms always know when there is something wrong, but, for some odd reason, I always try to hide it anyway. I should know better than that...Dispirited Karen is a wuss. I felt like a 6 year old as I allowed her reassuring words of the increased likelihood of finding it tomorrow (when I might not be so riled) to flow in one ear and directly out the other. I continued to ransack my closet three times over, knowing I'd left the ring unceremoniously stuffed into the pocket of my now-hung-upside-down jeans...to no avail. I'd had it. The energy being spent on keeping the flood-gates in tact pittered out, and the tears prevailed. Sensing that I couldn't really be consoled, she offered what should have been an obvious choice: pray for help in finding it.
Friends, I'm here to testify that He is there, tirelessly waiting for you and I to turn around and greet Him. What happened next can only be done justice in very precise form:
- I scanned the closet floor one more hopeless time to be sure I hadn't missed anything.
- I turned and walked out of the closet.
- I said to my mother, "You're right, I should pray about it."
- I turned back around and blinked repeatedly as I stared at the ring on the floor of the closet, EXACTLY where I'd been looking not 3 seconds earlier.
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