a thought.

i think i would like to be an eccentric poet when i grow up
only understood by three others
my husband one of them
if this were so, i wouldn't mind that all the rest stared at me
and said
what a queer one she is

God talked to me in church today...

(surprising, eh?)

The passage was 2 Timothy 1:7-14, and Darren was talking about the calling of God on our lives. Darren kept mentioning how following God's call is not an easy thing to do, but once God has called you, it's like there is absolutely nothing else you can do. He compared it to being in love with someone and saying not "I can live with them" but "I can't live without them".

I started thanking God for the call he's given me, for how excited I am to do something, go someplace, to Ireland, to Rwanda, to Russia, to Guatemala, to India. But then God asked me, "Are you willing to serve me when it's boring? Are you willing to not go somewhere exotic? What if I tell you to live in the States?"

And my heart sank.

And I didn't know what to say.

I went to bed smiling last night

and it didn't make sense.

It was 2 in the a.m., and I had just barely studied for two hard tests I have later on today. I had had a crazy busy hectic day at work, I hadn't done anything productive all day, and instead of trying to fill 2 more hours with possible productivity, I filled it with cover bands.

So it didn't make sense that I should be smiling as I fell asleep, thinking to myself, satisfied, "That was a good day."

But I did.

Why?

I was happy. Happy because I was thinking about the awesome future I know God has for me somewhere. Happy because I am so grateful to him for friends who build me up and encourage me. Happy because it was in the 50s outside. and just Happy because I wanted to be happy.

Does that make sense? I don't think so. But I don't think it needs to.

the Dark Knight (or, Why I Want to Marry a Superhero But Not Take Our Children To Their Dad's Movies)

I watched the Dark Knight this afternoon. Happy! Whenever I see an action movie, the inevitable result is that I want to break down the door of the theatre and start spraying the lobby with machine gun fire. When I see a superhero movie, the inevitable result is that I want the superhero for my birthday. (Except I don't think I'd want the Incredible Hulk. But I haven't seen that, so it doesn't count.)

I bet you were expecting a movie review. HA! You're in for a surprise, suckers.

Wouldn't it be amazing to marry, or at least date, a superhero? (Sorry to all the guys reading this ... this is quite a girly post. Oh well - I'm prone to it sooner or later.) Think about it. How awesome would it be to be swooping through the sky with your favorite superhero (Batman, Spiderman, and Superman are all equal to the task)? Or speeding in and out of traffic on Batman on his Bat-bike? And who can resist how super-sexy Batman's deep voice is? Or how cute and nerdy Spiderman is? Or how all-around amazing Superman is? Don't you want them to be your man? I want 'em for my birfday.

But this lovely train of thought was somewhat (albeit, only briefly) spoiled during this afternoon's viewing. Alternately, I spent my time mad at an incompetent mother. While this is pretty harsh wording, you'll see why. A woman in our row had brought her three young boys. While yes, they're boys, and therefore apt to like action movies, the youngest couldn't have been older than six.

And yet, there he sat, and watched the Joker elaborately describe his brutal scars, watched mucho vehicles blow up, watched people fight with weapons and in hand to hand combat and face moral dilemmas. Not to mention someone's nasty face [I give out no spoilers]. I will admit, his mom did take him out after one especially gruesome scene (for a six-year-old), but then she brought him back! And he sat huddled there on her lap, whimpering. We could hear him whimpering! It's a PG-13 movie for crying out loud! Did you really think your little boy could handle it??


I liked it.
Although, according to the previews, the end is near.