Too Much Information?

I don't like surprises. I especially don't like scary surprises, like the one that Matt the Landscaper told me about today. He was showing me what his team had accomplished, then happen to mention that they had found a 3-4 foot snake in one of the front flower beds. He also said that he thought it was a copperhead. These were not comforting words to me. The word "snake" is bad enough, but to further identify it in such threatening terms was certainly not helpful.

So, the question remains - was I better not knowing in the first place? Was this information too much information?

There was little chance of my working in the flower beds, but it is a possibility - or should I say was. Now I have to consider that maybe the snake will get tired of the shade and want to work on its tan on my front sidewalk. Maybe it will want to tour the inside of my house and sit by my back door. Maybe it will decide to become people-nivorous and bite me, thus ending my illustrious half-marathoning career. Maybe it will invite all its snake friends to my house and this will become snake heaven.

So, maybe it is good that I know about this group of snakes (because as Matt said, "We didn't get a chance to kill it. It probably was a baby and went back down in its hole, but you know if it's a baby,there's bound to be a mama and daddy somewhere. Thanks, Matt). Maybe it's good information because now I will become a educated predator with the goal of murdering this family via snake deterrent (whatever that is - Matt said I could get some at the store - I guess the Snake Deterrent Store).

Therefore, tomorrow I shall be at Home Depot learning all about snakes and how to deter them from my yard, but the question remains - when is information too much information?

I don't know, but this bit of information I would appreciate knowing - how will I know when the snake and its family and friends are gone?

Monday

Busy, busy, busy. The book I've had reserved from the library finally became available. I got 8 miles in, which is good since I'm planning to do 13 next Sunday in the Georgia Half-Marathon. I got back to Curves after a week, which is good, since I found out today what my waist measurement should be (no comment). I got a few packages mailed which hopefully will bring a smile to the recipients. I got a shower, washed some clothes, and cooked supper.

Aren't Mondays great!?

The Blessing of Resurrection

Today is Easter, the sole reason for my faith, because it is the day I celebrate my victory over death. Yes, it's my victory because Jesus Christ died and rose alive again, providing a way for me to live eternally. Every day I understand a little more what that means.

I once thought that eternal life began once I died on this earth. It wasn't until recently that I fully realized that because I have accepted God's eternal promise through Jesus Christ, eternal life begins now, this very moment. This moment just continues forever. Life isn't on hold until I draw my last breath - it has begun and will never end. It just changes attributes. Once upon a time, I was an infant; I've now grown to middle-age, and one day I will live happily ever after in Heaven.

Now that spring is officially here, I begin to look at the plants in my yard. Some survived the winter, some didn't, and some are in question. But that's another example of eternal life, because just as my plants are in all stages of life, so are we. What may look dead on the surface, may not be; and even if it is dead to us, it was once alive and will be again in another fashion.

My life has had a lot of twists and turns. There have been days of indescribable joy and days of inconsolable loss. But the gift of eternal life makes it all make sense. Any day is one of a countless number - which makes them all the more valuable because each day builds on the previous, whether it was a good day or not.

I guess what I'm trying to say it that at 50, some things are finally beginning to make sense (thanks to prayer, patience, and a good therapist). I know where I've been and I know what's ultimately ahead; the important thing is recognize each day that I have as the gift that it is.

That's the blessing of resurrection - knowing without a doubt that each day means life - eternally.

Home Again!

Our week-long vacation in Carmel has to come to an end. We stayed in Oakland last night so we could catch the early non-stop back to Nashville. It was a great vacation - Steve played golf everyday and I wrote and read and edited. I think we both enjoyed what we did.

It's nice to be home again. It's nice to sleep in my own bed. It's nice to unpack and wash clothes and sit in a soak in my own bathtub. For me, that's a nice thing about vacation - coming home.

Now, if Shaggy the Cat will just let me sleep tonight, it will be the perfect ending to a great vacation.

A Tale of Two Ladies With No Names

Today I had to say goodbye to the housekeeping lady at the resort. I really tried to get her name today - (okay, I didn't try hard enough). I met her the second day we were at the resort, and was in the room every time she came in to clean (okay, so I didn't get out much). Anyhow, we chatted as she did her thing. She was very sweet, and I think it gave us both a lift for those few minutes. Today she said, "I will be very sorry when I come back on Monday and you aren't here." I responded by telling her how much I appreciated talking with her every morning. I feel really blessed for having met her.

On the other hand, back in Nashville, Molly was having her own encounter with a nameless lady. Last night she and nine of her friends were having a surprise party (at Molly's house, which we own) for a friend. Around ten o'clock they went outside to her carport to bash a pinata. A few minutes later, the next-door nameless neighbor lady came over, threatening to call the cops if they weren't quiet. This is the same neighbor lady that threatened to call the cops when Maribeth had gotten a new puppy who wouldn't stop barking (this was the day she brought it home - she wouldn't even give him a chance). I'm not saying that Molly and friends weren't loud - maybe they were and maybe the lady (lives alone, middle-aged, no kids) goes to sleep early. I'm just wondering if calling the cops is the first thing to do if you're trying to meet the neighbors. Molly has lived in the house three years, and the only times she sees this woman is when she is threatening to call the cops? Luckily for mean lady, the neighbors on the other side of Molly have 3 kids, and are usually up until 2 am.

I guess there's no real moral to this story. We all have our nameless ladies that can either be the bright spots or low points in our lives. Maybe they are put there for a reason - to teach us something, to bless our lives, or just to make our lives a little better or more interesting.

I know why the cleaning lady was a part of my life - I'm sure Molly would like to know the reason for hers!