Of Secretaries and 7-Eleven

The secretaries at Grace are pretty awesome. I walk into the office today to make copies of the first movement of Beethoven's Sonata in C minor... which has absolutely no relevance to anything.

"Hey you almost college girl."
"Hi Heidi."
"Hey, I see you have a new printer."
"Yeah, sure do, when do you leave for college?"
"Oh, August sometime."
"How long are you staying?"
"Eh, three years-ish. I've got 40 credits out of the way already."
"Wow. Why didn't they have that kind of deal when I was young??"
"Have you ever heard that song (hums the tune to old quartet song)"
"I would have complained about the college credits to someone for you, but I wasn't alive. And yeah, my grandparents used to have a CD of that..."
"Grandparents?!? ...I'm not THAT old yet."
"Oh...sorry. Why is the printer beeping at me?"
"It wants you to take the paper out of it."
"Um. That's kind of ironic. Isn't it's entire reality built around being useful with paper?"
"Well yes, but this is quite the snobbish printer."
"Ah...so printers are developing personalities now, eh? Pretty soon we'll be paying for them to have therapy sessions."
(Secretaries giggle...Heidi leaves office.)

(In the hall...hilarious 7th grader)
"I didn't know you had glasses."
"I don't. Technically."
"Why are you wearing them then?"
"Only for headaches and mega-reading."
"That's cool. It's almost like a fashion accessory...the glasses I mean. Those are cute pants."
"Oh, thanks..."
"Did you get them at the mall? I think all cute things come from the mall."
"I'd disagree..."
"Well most things then! We should go shopping together again!! Anyway, got to go. Bye!"

(On the way home, stop at 7-Eleven...at the counter, follow conversation occurs.)
"That'll be $1.69"
(Hands little old man at the cash register money)
"Out of $1.75... Say, that's Pina Colada and Cherry, right?"
"Yup, sure is."
"Oh, those are the best kind of Slurpees."
"I completely agree."
"You know what makes them even better though?"
"What?"
"A shot of rum!"
"Oh...well..."
"What? You don't believe me? You should try it."
"I'm only 17. It'd be illegal."
"Oh, that doesn't matter. Back when I was a boy we didn't worry about laws like that, and I'm still alive."
"Maybe so, but I don't need alcohol..."
"Why not?"
"Well, a friend of mine once told me, 'Heidi, you're not missing anything by not drinking. Boring people drink to act the way you do all the time!"
(Silence)
"$0.06 is your change. Have a nice day."
"Thank you sir."
"But I'm telling you! If you ever get yourself some rum, you should try it! It'll change the way you think."
(Walks out of 7-Eleven)

(Laughs and thinks..."Yeah, I bet it'd change the way I think...")

And this is life. Little stuff like that makes it all the more amazing. That is all.

Spring Time Chit-Chat

Okay…I need to be writing a research paper. My mind won’t hold still, so I’ve rather been amusing myself with old pictures and stories.

Something kinda-ish jumped out at me today, and it made me chuckle. I was reading in 2 Corinthians where Paul is talking about how if he must boast, he chooses to boast in his weakness because then it’s pretty obvious that success comes not from his own power, but rather from the power given to him from Christ.

This’ll make more sense in a minute, but doesn’t God have such a great sense of humor? He takes our biggest fears and insecurities, and those are the things he uses to grow us. I find that so ironic and hilarious. Happy little story from childhood…

If we go back to my elementary years, guess what my biggest fear was...? Piano. I’m serious. It was my enemy. In Kindergarten, my mom used to bribe me with M&Ms to practice. By second grade I demanded money. That request didn’t work out so well…

I freaked out whenever people asked me to play in public. Third grade recital, I pretended I was sick all day. Even did the whole “thermometer under the heat lamp” thing. Only problem; it was a mercury thermometer, and I got it too hot, so it broke, and there was mercury all over.

Yeah. I got in trouble for that one and still had to play at the recital.

Oh dear. Anyway, I hated playing in front of people. I would force my whole family into the basement whenever I practiced so they couldn’t watch me. I was a weird little kid.

Second story. We need to go back to the early debate days. My worst fear in Jr. high and the beginning of high school? Talking in front of people. My parents decided to remedy this with debate. I cried every week for a month on the way home from class. (Siblings can testify to that.) I tried to convince my parents that debaters were all mean and cruel nerds that were at least partially insane. They didn’t buy it.

So…I was thrown into this mob of people who thought it was “fun” to talk about stuff like taxes and politics. Yuck. (Somewhere in the last three years I was nerdified myself. And now somehow get tricked into doing all the public rep stuff whether it be for classes, organizations, events... Oh well.)

I just find it highly amusing that the two things I hated and feared the most (performing music and speaking in public) are now two of the things I do the most. And are also two of the things I’ll be studying in college.

It never ceases to amaze me how God takes our biggest insecurities and turns them into strengths so that when we succeed, there ain’t nothing we can do but give all the praise back to him. So let me continue to boast in my weakness, for God’s grace is made all the more wonderful when I, in and of myself, can do nothing but freak out and fail. That was Heidi’s thought of the day.

Well, that, and that canned mandarin oranges are better than canned pineapple...

He was assigned a grave...

"...with the wicked, and with the rich in his death, though he had done no violence, nor was any deceit in his mouth."

Sometimes it's when we're weakest, when we fail the most, when tears are far more fitting than smiles, and rain is greater than sunshine that God becomes most evident. It's when I'm at my worst that God's grace seems so much stronger and his kindness surpasses the few words held in my vocabulary.

It's when my heart breaks for my own selfish hypocrisy and pride, for my failure to love other people that my Father comes to me and...he. still. loves. me. ... me.

Why? I've spent days and nights in sorrowful solitude wondering that. Why should this girl so full of greed and hatred stand in the name of a perfect man and be called righteous? What right do I have to accept grace that I can never repay?

When my helpless state glares at me, I cannot help but tremble at the thought of mercy, of forgiveness... of love. I recoil at the thought of my stupidity and imperfection... but even through all this, my heavenly Father still offers me grace through the death of his own son.

Dear God, why? Why love? Why grace? Why forgiveness? Why mercy? Let me endure forever with unquenchable thirst, incomparable anguish, unremitting evil... it's what I deserve.

But no. I am loved by God and so I am offered hope.

I try to understand. I can't. No one can fully understand and grasp the expanse of God's love. I my not know why, but I'm thankful. How can I say thank you? All I have is so menial. I give my life, for it's the most I have, but even that wanes in comparison.

It's times like this one when I cannot help but fall to my knees with tears streaming down my face crying "Abba." Speechless again I fall in the presence of God's love.

"Surely he took up our infirmities
and carried our sorrows,
yet we considered him stricken by God,
smitten by him, and afflicted.

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed." ~Isaiah 53:4-5