"The Shack" by WM. Paul Young

This book was a strange journey. I am not sure how I feel, as a whole, about it so I will just report my observations and conflicting emotions. I initially hated the book, then found it intriguing. Some parts seemed comforting while others were disturbing. At times, the dialogue is juvenile. In real life, I've never heard one grown man use words like, "silly" or "pea brained" when speaking to another grown man. Also, the author tried too hard to make the trinity appear relatable to humans; it sounded insincere. The conversations again and again ended up in laughter but nothing was funny. It did, however, create some beautiful images, in my mind, of life. It likens our lives to a colorful garden that has yet to be finished. The garden is in chaos but is beautiful still. I love that. It also spurs one on to forgiveness; that is what spoke to me the most. I think it sounds confusing and false because it attempts to explain or depict things that are inexplicable. It goes into much conversation and detail about the trinity, God's love, and the code by which He lives. Any explanation of these things cannot fit into our minds. It is something that God must reveal to us in pieces, and even then it is hard to understand. There has been controversy about this book. Some have suggested that it is spiritually misleading. I was warned not to read it because it "sent one woman to an insane asylum." While I don't presume to know the details of this woman's life, I find a suggestion like this, in and of itself, insane. Overall, it was one man's incredible journey, and like every work of fiction, has its strengths and weaknesses. The things you take away are priceless. They are almost worth the strange journey to obtain them.

Books I've Read, "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" by Robert Louis Stevenson

I see why this story, written by Robert Louis Stevenson, is a classic. Yes, it is creepy but not too creepy. It is an amazing story, weaved in such a way that leaves you hanging on to every word. Many people know this story, or watered down derivatives of it, but many have never actually read it. I recommend it. Every day there is a war inside each of us. Do I simply deal with the woman, on the phone, who almost hit me or scream some obscenities? Do I help that person who looks in need or continue on my busy way? Do I lie or tell the truth that might get me into trouble? This story simply puts those two sides of every person into actual characters that answer to the names, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. It is worth the few hours it'll take to read.

http://www.amazon.com/Jekyll-Robert-Louis-Stevenson-ebook/dp/B002H9XSRE/ref=sr_1_11?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1261605026&sr=8-11

Books I've Read, "For One More Day" by Mitch Albom

This book, what can I say, it...left in me a deep desire to raise my kid; to really raise him. This book is about a middle-aged man who tries to committ suicide but in so doing receives a gift, one more day with his late mother. It is a story that makes you wish you were back in your parent's kitchen, after a long day of playing in the snow, eating a grilled cheese sandwhich repetitively dipped in tomatoe soup. It charges me to make my son's memories of life valuable. I am a single mother as one of the main characters, Posie Bennetto, finds herself to be. Much like me, she never intended to raise her kids alone but alone she is. She loves her kids. It spurs me on to simply, make memories.

http://mitchalbom.com/

Books I've Read, "Even Now" by Karen Kingsbury

This story is gripping. It is about lost love, mistakes, peace, and true forgiveness. Karen takes you on a trip; a difficult trip. As I read it at work, my eyes brimmed with tears. I choked them back to answer the phone (I am a receptionist whose boss doesn't mind me reading), then quickly returned to the story that made my heart ache. I recommend it to those who feel strained in their own family relationships. It deals with deep hurt and injustice. I loved it. It left me emotionally spent but also refreshed. I can't say that about many books. Below is a link to a full description of it.

http://www.karenkingsbury.com/books/series/LostLoveSeries/evenNow/

The Old Couple

When Alex and I were engaged the first thing we had to do was get a marriage license. We were so hopelessly in love and were excited about the task. With stars in our eyes, we headed down to the courthouse. To get to the right place, we had to walk down a very constricting hallway. The paint was drab, the tile devoid of color and the employees were just the same. There was a mix of smells. I remember stale cigarette smoke, harsh cleaning products, and cynicism, lots of cynicism; the place was rank with it. But no matter how depressing the place was, I and my husband-to-be were not phased by it. We were resolute in our decision to marry and with giddy smiles announced, "We would like to get a marriage license". The less than friendly government worker behind the counter handed us the necessary paperwork and directed us to a waiting area which was nothing more than a few broken chairs seemingly from the 1960's. Without hesitation, we filled out the paperwork and handed it back to this henchman of the state. She glared at us as our cloud of romance encircled her, I believe she choked on it, then stamped out papers and sent them to be processed.

Today Alex and I, now husband and wife of 8 years, walked down a very similar hallway. It had the same drab paint, the same colorless tile, and of course the same cynical smell. The reason for our visit had changed a bit though, we carried with us our signed divorce papers. This time the minion behind the desk was almost intolerable. She was an old woman, poorly dressed and missing a tooth in the front. She was tired of her job and I was tired for her. On this visit there was no more romance encircling us, just disappointment. We were no longer hopeless romantics we were just hopeless. We had come to the end. The woman sat there almost chiding us for having been so foolish to believe our marriage would last or at least that's how it seemed. After forking over the necessary dough, we were told to sit down and wait for our case number.

As we waited I looked down the hall at the pews resting along the wall in front of the courtrooms. There was couple after couple sitting together. Some of them were obviously there for the same reason we were; their body language conveyed that without question. But i saw one couple that I remember and will probably always remember. A very young couple; they both looked to be about 18. They were dressed in their Sunday best and by the looks of it, didn't have much money. They were there to be married. She had her arm tucked under his kind of like in the old days when a gentleman would offer his arm to a woman and she would gracefully accept. That's how she was holding onto him. Her head was rested on his shoulder and her other arm held tight to him as well. He leaned into her and rested his head atop hers. They were so happy. I saw it; the same romantic cloud, the same hopeless love, the same resolve. I wanted to warn them. I wanted to tell them that it's not all it's cracked up to be, to think it through, to turn and run for the hills. But then I was reminded of another couple very much like this one but without all the gooey love stuff.

The couple I am remembering were scheduled to be married on a Wednesday afternoon around 1 p.m. It was a very informal wedding. Heck, the groom had to convince his boss to let him off work early so he could attend! On the way to the wedding both the bride and groom admitted they weren't even sure that what they were doing was right. There were no clouds of romance, no lavish decorations, or long ceremonies. They were asked only one question, "Do you?". But they had a secret. They had what a lot of people don't have these days, commitment. After each answered the question with a, "yes", the couple started a life together that would last for 63 years. They went on to have three beautiful children, who grew up to give them 5 beautiful grand kids, and even one great grandchild. They built a life together that lasted until June 11, 2002 when the man died, his wife by his side holding his hand. She was always by his side, supporting and loving him, as she had learned to do over the years. Five years before his death, the man declared to his wife, "Mommy" (that's what he called her) "I never told you that I love you, well I do". And every day after that until he died at the age of 100, he kissed his wife and told her, "I love you."

With that in mind I kept my cynicism to myself and smiled at the sweet couple. Whispering a prayer of hope for them, I returned to my seat beside my soon to be ex-husband and began to think of the old couple who had lasted for so long, the couple with the 3 kids and the 5 grand kids of which I am one. That couple was Doc and Clara Bailey, my grandparents. They left a good legacy for me. An example of real love, the kind that lasts forever...and with it they also left me a little hope. (below: my grandparents on their wedding day. Pic 2 My grandparents on my wedding day 63 years later)

The Aching

It's funny... the things you learn from pain. Everybody has pain. Whether it be great or small we all experience pain. And even though we try to comfort ourselves by appreciating the fact that so many others have it worse than we do...it still doesn't lessen the pain...not even a little bit. Why is that? I think pain was designed to make you aware of danger. Meaning if you couldn't feel pain you might not realized that you just leaned against the burner and are about to loose your hand. Follow me? So I think it was intended to alert you to something that would hurt you so that you can stop it. But what about the kind of pain that we can't escape? What about emotional things...the loss of loved ones...the loss of a career...the loss of a dream....the loss of a friend...the loss of a lover? What do you do with that pain? I mean if you're leaning against a burner you quickly stop before there is any damage. But with matters of the heart...pain doesn't come until you're already too deep into it to protect yourself. Hmph.

Let me first say that I have, by no means, cornered the market on pain but over the last few years I have discovered what it's like to feel loss...in more ways than one. I have lost so much and continue to loose. I know what it feels like to ache in the most hidden places of your soul. To ache so hard that your body responds the only way it knows how...to curl up into a fetal position, the very basic of comforts, and scream and wail until there is not a tear left inside. It's funny how, even as an adult your childlike instincts can be very strong. David understood that pain. You know, David from the Bible, in Psalms?

So much has transpired in my life. As the aching in my heart got too great to bear I turned to old faithful...the Bible. l flipped open the Bible and arbitrarily landed on one verse. The page was full of words but my eyes saw only 4 of them. "He restores my soul...." (Psalms 23:3) The tears poured down my face. "He restores my soul..." There has been so much going on in my heart and my mind, it's amazing that somebody would WANT to be invited into the madness of my soul with only one purpose...to restore it.

They're Back

Okay to tell you this mini story I must tell you something rather embarrassing about myself. I have this annoying little quark, where whenever I laugh unexpectedly or for a long time, I get hiccups. You know...the really hard kind that make your chest hurt.

Alex (my soon to be ex-husband) and I used to laugh together a lot. Usually because we were sharing our events of the day or our observations of others. I have a way of weaving a comical scenario and so does he, so we commonly laughed together. Every once in a while (more often than I'd like) I would laugh so hard that I would get hiccups, which would send Alex into an unsympathetic wave of laughter. Who could blame him for his jeering? I thought it was entertainment worthy myself.

Anyways, today my son was saying a simple phrase but he was testing out a new character voice while doing so. He was saying something about "the empire is at hand". It made me laugh so hard I began to hiccup. It was then that I realized I hadn't had the laughing hiccups in over a year. For whatever reason they had disappeared but now...for whatever reason they're back.

I'll take that as a good thing.

Cherish

A Sweet Moment

I had one of those "write about it" moments. You know, the kind of moment that you...uh write about? Here goes.

On Thanksgiving of 2007 my son and I were in Colorado Springs visiting my sister and her best friend, Chris. It was bedtime and I was desperately trying to get my son to get comfortable in a different bed, in a different house, in a different state where almost everybody he loved was awake and having fun in the other room. No dice. He cried and cried. I was about to cry myself because, at the time, things in my life were so overwhelmingly sad and my heart was broken. I prayed for wisdom and strength not to loose my temper or not to join him in his wailing. What came to mind was the song, "Baby of Mine" from the movie Dumbo. It was one of my favorite songs as a kid and my son had recently seen the movie.

I couldn't, for the life of me, remember the words but I hummed the tune anyway. In short order, he became silent. With the added soothing technique of stroking his hair he was calm, quiet, and sleeping in no time. Over the last year and a half the comfort of that song has meant a lot to the both of us. When I tired of singing the song, I tried to sing other things but my son would having nothing to do with those other songs. Instead, he insisted on "Baby of Mine".

We popped in a movie the other day which started with the music video of "Baby of Mine". He looked at me with glee on his face and said, "Mommy, that's the song you sing to me". Then he excitedly climbed up in my lap and rested his head on my shoulder while I stroked his hair and sang along. It was such a sweet moment. The look on his face was priceless. He didn't say it like this but what he meant was, "that is OUR song". And he just really wanted to be in my lap while it played. We played it over and over again. He rested in my lap until we were done. A simple melody brought us such a sweet moment.

Welcome

Welcome to my blog. I have been blogging via MySpace and Facebook for quite some time but have just begun this site devoted to the art of blog. I am anxious to hear how it works for you. Please feel free to comment on the functionality of the site. Does it work for you? How does the layout look? Are my blogs somewhat interesting? And also leave ANY comments you may have about how I may better improve the site, as it is a work in progress.

My blogs are usually anecdotes about my day, or my life. Sometimes it's just something sweet my son did or a short note about a quirky professor. Some might be a little dark as I've experienced some difficulty in my personal life, but I guarantee that even the dark ones will be worth the time you take to read them.

Enjoy,

Cherish Shalom

Rock Whacha Got!

The doctor told me yesterday that I should have my tonsils out. He began to describe some unlikely but possible side effects. The first thing he said was there might be uncontrollable bleeding that would lead to hospitalization. The next thing he mentioned was that it might change my voice to a higher pitched or squeaky voice. The third thing I totally forgot because as soon as I heard that my voice might change I shut down. I've never really liked my voice. When I hear it on a recording or over video I've always shuttered and secretly chastised myself for not having a more "lady like" voice. But the thought of my voice changing, in any way, left me feeling totally different. I was feeling protective of my voice. Because after all it is MINE and I want to keep it the way it is!

I've always hated the way my arms look. I've also had people make fun of my feet (big for a girl) and I have hated a lot of things about myself for a long time. Then I thought, "wait, why do I hate my arms? They work. At least I HAVE arms, at least I HAVE feet". There are some people that have neither yet they live a happy life. During my marriage I watched the man I loved drool over women that had completely different body types then mine. That destroyed me because I couldn't be what he wanted. Since then I have desired to be lighter up top, darker skinned, and overall much more slender (with smaller calves I got these dang soccer calves). But I got to thinkin'...why would I want that? My body gets me to work, to school, and home again. My body also gave me my son. Heck, I'm even able to run 3 or 4 times a week. I clean up nice so who cares if I have a tan or look good in apple bottom jeans and don't even get me started on those stupid boots with the fur. I HATE that trend. I like being me. So what if I'm pasty? I glow in the dark, it's true but should I feel bad about that?

Here's a little inspiration to all you who want to loose weight. Every time you feel too tired to go walking or running, just think at least you CAN walk. What if you were laid up in bed for 5 months and couldn't do a thing? I'm pretty sure that once you got your walkin' papers you'd be gone with the wind. So when you feel too tired to exercise, just remember this blog and GO DO IT! If you hate the way your butt looks in those jeans, be thankful that you HAVE a butt to put in those jeans (however tiny it may be :o) And if you got TOO much boot (by your own standards), just rock whacha got as ONLY YOU CAN!

Love ya,

Cherish Shalom

P.S. In the pic above I felt so pasty and fat after seeing this picture...women, we are too concerned about our looks!