When the Music Plays in the Background

Yes, it has been seven months since I've last posted. Blogging is an interesting thing. While I often have lots to say, I constantly contradict myself in deciding whether or not to post it. Sometimes it's too personal, or I'm afraid the person I'm referring to will read this post, or that no one will relate to what I'm saying and my followers will slowly whither away to nothingness. But I recently had a dear friend ask why I wasn't blogging anymore and that she missed my posts. 

She actually missed me! 

And that feeling of being missed is what every human truly desires most. To be accepted and loved and taken for who we really are. Selfishness and rudeness and dirtiness all wrapped into this imperfect human body. And I decided to start posting again. Because I may not be able to make a huge difference in this big 'ole crazy world, but I can write this one post, this one day, and reach out to somebody. 

If that's all I do, I'll at least do that.

Matt & I went to Richardson (north of Dallas) this weekend for his annual birthday weekend at Mama D's (his momma). We were very much looking forward to this trip, but on his birthday (OF ALL DAYS!!!), we shared in a not-so-enjoyable event. I know your curiosity is absolutely attacking you with an overwhelming desire to know SO BADLY what that event was.

But you won't know.

So...that's it.

It was bad.

So, we're driving to Dallas with a cloud of doubt and frustration and hurt raining on us the whole way. and this is where I interject how very, immensely glad I am to the Lord for giving me a husband who doesn't pout and cross his arms and stamp his foot and stick out his bottom lip like I do. B/c while I am the maturest of ladies in most areas, I can throw a mean hissy fit and hold a grudge for entirely too long. 

(I'm working on it. I think.)

B/c while I was expressing all my plethora of frustrations, Matt was sticking up for those whom had hurt him. At one point I yelled, "Would you just let me defend you without taking the other side?!"

But eventually his optimism rubbed off on me, and we ended up having a really splendid weekend.

Mama D & I shopped at every Ross & Marshall's in the 20-mile radius surrounding her home, we all ate some amazingly unhealthy, delicious food, we slept in every day, and we watched our Shih-Tzu try all weekend to catch Mama D's weiner dog's tail with her teeth.

And then while packing to go home, I wanted to throw another one of my infamous fits b/c I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to face the awkwardness and discomfort that awaited us at home. I didn't want to put my big girl pants on and "suck it up". 

(And here's where the inspirational music builds) Because I began thinking of the single mother with two little kids that we'd just visited who was going through a divorce and how much she probably didn't want to return home after a vacation either, but how she no longer had a husband to support her. And how strong she had to be for her kids. (And then the music got louder) as we were passing a cemetery outside of Dallas on Easter Sunday b/c there I saw an old gentleman get out of his truck and walk towards a grave site with pink flowers in his hand. And suddenly the music crescendoed and I realized how very trivial our situation was. and I thanked the Holy Spirit for the swift kick in the backside he was giving to me.

 It's a very amateur lesson to learn, but for every instance where you feel you have it really bad, there's always someone who has it worse.

"Here's to all the walking wounded."