Living Life Together

Almost everyone in my Life Group was out of town this weekend, so we canceled our meeting tonight. Instead, I joined another Life Group for the evening. After a bit of trouble finding the house (my fault for assuming that the street one block from 33rd would be 32nd!), I arrived just in time to begin.

I was welcomed warmly into the group–that was small that night because several of their members were also gone. It was myself, one of my good friends, our youth pastor and his wife, and another couple that I don’t know very well.

It was wonderful–I love that I belong to a church that opens their lives to one another. Our little “catchphrase” is “Living Life Together”–and that’s truly what occurs. Even though I didn’t “belong” to that group, I still belonged. I was welcomed. I was given the freedom to share, to cry, to pray. We chatted for quite a while afterward, informally. We talked about marathon running and the origins of the band “Black Sabbath” and teased about women always spending forever talking (while the men kept asking each other question after question after question.) After our youth pastor and his wife left, my friend and I could just chat on the couch for a while longer–our hosts didn’t mind.

We got to catch up on life–talk one on one. It seems we don’t get that too often anymore now that I’m not sponsoring at Z-360 with her any more. Now almost all our visiting time is with little siblings or quasi-siblings hanging around. Nothing like how we used to be able to chat while setting up the room for Wednesday night services. So it was nice to just enjoy conversation.

This is just one of the many things I love about my church–I love my own Life Group, but I love that I can drop by any other one and be with people who care for me and will pray for me. I love that I have a family and quasi-family within my church that “hangs out” all the time. I love that I have sisters like my friend who I can be real with. I love that I can share my heart with the body and know that they value and guard my heart.

That’s what the church is–it’s people, living together, together being conformed to the image of Christ. None of us individually can truly reflect the glory of God–but as we all live together in Christ, God begins to reveal Himself to, in, and through us.


Unabashed Packrat

I’ve been a packrat since my earliest childhood–saving everything, generally for the sake of “projects”. I could throw away those little boxes that the decongestant comes in, but who knows? I might need them for a project someday. I could throw away those panty hose with runs–but there are lots of projects that could use them. So I keep almost anything.

I’ve started to get a little better about throwing things away–pantyhose, for example. I’ve discovered that I don’t really end up using the pantyhose for anything. It just sits in my drawer making me have to sort through everything to find a pair without runs.

Other things, though, are still hard. I save the boxes the decongestant comes in–and recently used six of them to create a divided pencil holder/storage thing for my bookends (that I made from corrugated cardboard salvaged from work). I save toilet paper tubes–and use them to keep stray cords manageable–or to hold the plastic sacks that I get from Walmart. I stuff the sacks into the toilet paper tube and drop the whole tube into the bottom of my trash can. It keeps the sacks contained and available to use as trash can liners whenever I take out the trash.

And then there are the things that I go out of my way to collect. I do a fair bit of laminating at work, and at the top of each sheet of lamination is a 10×30 inch strip of clear plastic that doesn’t have anything inside of it. I felt loathe to throw it away–especially when I noted its similarity to transparencies. I use transparencies on occasion when I’m scrapbooking, but they’re pretty expensive to use regularly. This on the other hand…it’s free, and I’d throw it away otherwise.

So I have a paper bag full of laminating waste.

I haven’t done much scrapbooking since I gathered it, so it’s just been sitting in my closet. I considered throwing it away, but decided not to–after all, you just never know when it might come in handy.

Then recently, I’ve been reading Marla Cilley’s (the FlyLady) book Sink Reflections. She talks about her “Control Journal” inside and recommends that readers make one of their own using a 8.5×11 three ring binder. She talks about putting your routines inside page protectors so that you can use a dry erase marker to mark off each step as you complete it. I like the idea, but abhor the thought of using that large of a notebook for my Control Journal. I prefer using half sheet notebooks for anything that I’m going to be carrying around with me regularly. Besides which, my planner (which I will begin using again when life demands–when I get back to being a student after my brief respite into the leisurely life of the working woman ;-P) uses a half sheet, and it’s much easier to let everything be consistent.

But, as far as I know, there aren’t page protectors for half sheet binders. Or if there are, they’re bound to be pretty expensive. As I puzzled over this issue, the thought struck me–“Why don’t you make your own using the laminating stuff? Brilliant idea.

So I cut the laminating stuff into 8.5×11 sheets, folded them in half and punched three holes along the open edge. There you have it–page protectors for half sheets. At no cost.

I begin to think that being a packrat really does pay off.


Built in Barometer

Yesterday was a beautiful day, with blue skies, sun shining, just warm enough, with a brisk breeze but no humidity. This morning, I woke up to a gray sky

and muggy, unmoving air. But was I surprised? Of course not. I knew yesterday that the weather was changing–due to my nifty built in barometer.

I discovered the barometer a couple of weeks ago when I had to go home from work because I was feeling ill. I couldn’t explain why I felt so awful–or exactly what it was like–but I felt awful. My head hurt and my ears were ringing and the rest of me just felt queer.

I went home and went to sleep. The next morning, I was just fine–but a huge storm system had rolled into town.

Realization began to dawn. I started to watch to see if a pattern would emerge. And emerge it did. Before any change in the weather, my sinuses and ears would get plugged–creating a massive headache. My allergy medicine would seem to stop working after only four hours or so. After four hours to a day of discomfort, the symptoms would disappear and I’d be just fine.

It makes sense, if you choose to think about it. Due to allergies and perhaps something more, my sinuses are continually plugged–and my eardrums have perpetual pockets of fluid surrounding them. So, when the pressure outside changes, it takes a long time to equalize the pressure inside my sinuses and ears. Thus, I feel sort of like you do when you’re gaining or losing altitude in an airplane. My ears get that really full feeling, and my head starts aching. Only since I have so much gunk in my head, chewing gum or yawning doesn’t really help. I’ve just got to wait it out.

I used to want to build my own barometer, but I never seemed to get the supplies I needed. (Someone was always throwing away my trash stash before I had everything together! Grrr…) Recently, my younger sister made herself a barometer–I was pretty covetous until I realized that mine is infinitely superior to hers. She has to remember to look at hers in order to figure out what’s going on with the pressure. Mine has auto-alerts!