I’ve Got a Hankering for iPod

This past weekend my husband and I took a strole through the mall to see if we could score some free stuff. A couple of major department stores were giving away free sample cosmetics, and after the week I’d had, I was up for some free pampering. After I scored a free sensational, salubrious, and soothing facial, Zack and I bummed around the mall again, mostly for the people-watching and change of scenery.

Upon wondering into one of the more pretentious stores, we saw to our right a gathering of young people, likely about to graduate high school this spring, around a large machine in the clothing section. We turned to see what all the brouhaha was all about, and to our surprise, one of the young gentlemen was swiping his credit card, not in an ATM or snooty soda machine, but in an iPod machine.  That’s right, an iPod machine.

Now, tell me, Posse… if America is in the worst economical state it has ever been since the Great Depression, with no sign of a rebound… *pause for dramatic effect*   …I’m not saying, I’m just saying.

Yesterday’s Epiphany

Back in my later days of highschool, I had a list of all the things I wanted to do during my lifetime. It wasn’t so much a list of goals or career choices contained within a 5 or 10 year period. I had those lists too, but one in particular was dedicated to specifically to the subject of excitement.

I had forgotten until yesterday when I attended the funeral of a woman who was not only known for being a tireless lover of God and servant of the church, but for being a lover of “play”.  When she first hired her administrator 15 years ago, she said, “I know you are a woman of God and that you pray, but do you love to play? Ministry is hard work, and if you don’t know how to play, you become burnt out… and boring.”

After Zack and I left the funeral, I couldn’t help but mull that statement over in my head, not because it was a new concept, but because I always had that philosophy until a couple of years ago when life got so busy with ministry that I had all but forgotten about what it’s like to take on a new type of excitement. I used to snowboard, jetskii, take random road trips in the middle of the night, snowmobile, tackle as many of the most enviggorating rollarcoasters I could find on the rare occasion when I could visit an amusement park. In a pinch, I would even band together with friends on a desperate search for some kind of a hill to sled on, even if all we had for sleds were pieces of cardboard or stollen lunch trays from the cafeteria.

Today, though anxious to play a little myself, I have been in bed since yesterday afternoon with a wave of exhaustion and a pounding headache. Instead of playing, I’m thoroughly enjoying the Planet Earth series, whilst occasionally dreaming up how I plan to decorate my house when we have enough money to do so.

If you’ve never seen Planet Earth, you have to! At this moment, I’m highly entertained by a sequence on baboons, only found in the Etheopian highlands and putting together yet another list- “places I have to see.”

Things I Learned This Month

-Shocking fact: I’m supposed to put on approximately 35-40 lbs during pregnancy. I’m also told that I am to put on only 2-5 of those pounds during my first trimester, but I’ve beat that statistic like it stole something! … In other words, I have a few pounds to spare… quite a few, actually. 

-Did you know that by 11 weeks, a baby in the womb can already hear? In fact, babies at this stage are 1 1/2 inches long and can move on their own.

-For those sporting long hair, cutting one’s hair in the first trimester is a great idea. Yes, it helps for a self-esteem boost, but primarily gives you breathing room when you’re hugging the toilet day and night, ruing the fact that you still haven’t nailed down exactly what your body wants to eat, but reminding yourself that not eating is too close to child abuse to be an option.

-Everything smells bad. Everything.

-People’s advice about what to do during the toughest nausea is well-meant. It doesn’t help, but it’s sweet of them to offer what they can (smile and say things like, “Thanks, that could work.”)

-No matter how you feel, complaining is useless, especially considering the fact that you get a kid out of the deal. What could be better than that?

Yes, Please. I Love Humble Pie.

As humbling as this is, the motivation for my post today is purely mercenary. My husband and I are in financial jam and we need help.  Aside from the fact that we’re raising our own support as full-time missionaries, a good chunk of funds that were supposed to head our way never actually did. But as it always happens, the bills never seem to forget, and thus we are in the hole.  We have a goal of raising about $3,000 in the next month or two, and have chosen to be faithful with what we’ve been given and then trust the Lord to provide.

If you are able/willing to help at all, we would greatly appreciate it!! How? My husband has a paypal account, so you can easily click here. 

Thank you.

the rumors are true

A serendipitous turn has occurred in my life… savoring a hint of irony. I am pregnant; sixweeks pregnant to be more precise, though every online due date calculator seems to have a different idea about how many weeks I am along. I have to say that I am thrilled beyond words to be a mommy, but let me tell you, there’s nothing quite as nauseating as the thought of broccoli or onions. Ugh… even typing those two harmless little words makes me nervous I might have to put this post on pause to take a quick vomit break. In fact, the word vomit doesn’t gross me out nearly as much as those two words that I won’t attempt to type a second time.

I’ve been home all day, which is good since I can scarcely do more than sleep, and bad since my dog is super energetic and assumes that I am going to take her for a walk every time I move my foot to the right or the left more than an inch at a time.  I took her out for a brief stint in our ginormous back yard just to see the psychotic look on her face when she has space to run in as many circles as she can. She’s now gratefully planted at my feet, leaking with satisfaction.

My husband is now rescuing me from cabin fever, so I’m off. Buy me stuff if you want! I have a universal wishlist at amazon.com!!

Holy Frijoles!

Snow flakes are actually falling from the sky here in Kansas City!

Remembering Solomon

Good morning, Posse.

I woke with a bit of an ache in my stomach from a late dinner last night… AND NO! I’m not pregnant. Somehow, being married all of a sudden creates this suspicious glance to the belly area by onlookers and aquaintances, as well as a thought process after a stomach ache complaint that is generally entirely unnecessary. (For the record, asking a woman if she is pregnant goes down in the female book of pet pieves as one of the most rude questions possible).

All that to say, I slept in and am feeling much better, and now am sipping my french press and thinking about how kind it is that the Lord gave us the Bible. I’ve been reading Proverbs 2 for the last several days; prayer reading it, more accurately.  

If you’re not familiar with it, it’s the writing of King Solomon (the king who asked for wisdom and first displayed his brilliance in a case between two mothers, one whose infant had died and the other who had an infant of the same age, but was kidnapped by the first mother- each claimed their right to the child, until Solomon quite horrifically discovered the identity of the true mother by offering to cut the baby in half so each woman could “share” the child. Obviously, the true mother relinquished her right in the desperate plea to save her child’s life, and Solomon knew she was the real deal).

Well, it’s this king who is writing to his son, Lamuel in the book of Proverbs. He takes all that he’s learned to plead with his son to grab hold of wisdom, and in Proverbs 2:2-5 he says,

 …”So that you incline your ear to wisdom, and apply your heart to understanding; yes, if you cry out for descernment, and lift up your voice for understanding, if you seek her as silver, and search for her as for hidden treasures; then you will understand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of God.”

For this last week, I can’t get Proverbs 2 out of my prayers to the Lord. I keep thinking about how pleased God was that Solomon could have asked for anything he wished, but his cry as a young man was wisdom, and I can’t help but think the same for my life. Instead of just reading the Scriptures and nodding my head in agreement, I use the language in my prayers to God right out of the passage. Solomon pleads! He uses some strong imperatives: “incline”, “apply”, “cry out”, “lift up your voice”, “seek”, “search”… 

The reward? Understanding the fear of the Lord, and actually finding that you are beginning to know how God thinks, feels, acts. That is outrageous.  So onward and upward?

Bah-rum-pum-pum-pum

Have you ever noticed that drummers in the contemporary Christian music scene that only play to fill in for different bands have that same fixed expression on their face, as if they’re thinking, “Feed the kids, feed the kids, feed the kids, feed the kids…”?

I Love Lucy

Good morning, posse (which is what you shall be hence forth called as a reader of this blog)!

It is currently a lovely morning at the Hensley household. It is currently 8 a.m., and I sip my cup of french press, carefully crafted by my husband who is now out on an errand of obtaining breakfast for the two of us and our new addition to the family. No, I’m not speaking of some unborn child in the womb- we’re still enjoying the loveliness of married life without children.

No, the addition I speak of is curled up quietly just a few feet away from me. Her name is Lucy, and though I’ve had a few less-than-excellent experiences of dogs in my life, yesterday was not one them. After a few hours of brainstorming, grading, syllabus writing, and doing other “administratorish” things, I grabbed a short break to take one of those online “what dog is right for you?” quizzes just for fun. I came across some adorable breeds that, though perfect for me, we not perfect for my wallet, and felt a little inspired to keep searching.

Yes, I am a dog-lover. More importantly, I love big dogs. I mean, if you’re going to have a dog, get a real one! Little yappy dogs that act more like cats are an entirely different species altogether, as far as I’m concerned. There have only been about 2 small dogs that I have EVER relinquished affection to with sincerity. One is has spent the last few years going from cute to becoming a miniature monster, and the other I met only a few months ago. Her name is Gaia, and she has been the only small dog to force me to reevaluate my opinions on the poodle breed.

However, yesterday was a day of casual suggestions to the hubby that led to a trip to the humane society. I had been hoping for a boxer, but the only boxers that caught my eye were a mere 11 weeks old, and though puppies are cute, I have learned the hard way that they require nearly as much skillful parenting as a human child. Two years ago I instantly fell in love with a German shepherd whom I named Festus. His puppy charm glazed over my judgment and I bought himfor a mere 50 bucks.  He turned out to be a great dog, but with a BIG personality and proceeded to grow larger and larger until he weighed 75 lbs and finally became too much of a handfull for me, a full-time Bible school student with a part-time job. Festus was graciously taken by my parents to care for, but within a year he was more than they could handle, and became someone else’s beloved pet.

Yesterday, however, was a bit different. Zack and I chatted about buying a dog, and we looked on the humane society’s website just to see if anything caught our eye. We found a picture of a dog who was adorable, but still had no intention of making the decision right then and there. However, my curiosity led me to drive to the shelter down the road for a more complete idea of what was available. When Zack joined me later, none of the dogs stuck out to us until the last aisle. It was where they put the bigger dogs, most of which were barking and jumping obnoxiously. Zack and I exchange the eye-roll that meant we couldn’t take it much longer, though many of the dogs were pretty cute stuff. As we approached the end of the line of cages, there she was: “Blossom”.

She sat quietly but alerted to our presence. Looking at the description on the cage we saw that she was a 2 year old boxer cross who had been housebroken. She was shy, and had been transfered from another shelter,  so not too much was known about her other than the fact that she has been previously fixed and was ready to go home with us that day if we wanted her.

The moment I knelt down to her level, she leaned her body against the gate to get a good scratch, and Zack and I melted at her sweetness. We asked to take her out to the play area to see what she was like interacting with us, and the moment we got out there and I knelt down to pet her, she leaned up against me and burrowed her face into my stomach. No bouncing, no barking, no pulling, no running around to get a sniff of all the new smells outside her own pen… she just snuggled.

It didn’t take us long to fall in love and we signed the paperwork. It wasn’t until after we began to chat with the staff that we found out her picture was the one we saw on their website earlier and had fallen in love with. We paid the cash and took her home beeming. She is still getting used to her surroundings and new name ‘Lucy’, but she is phenomenal at letting us known when she needs to go out, and stayed quiet all night while we slept. However, I know all too well how dogs can change over time, so we have already begun practicing some serious Caesar Milan techniques, and it is astounding how fast she responds with confident compliance!

We scored.

Staring at the Tsavos

Well… I’ve recently returned from a sucessful honeymoon, during which my husband and I made it to the Field Museum in Chicago. Our one purpose: to see if the legend of the Tsavo Maneaters’ ability to strike fear into even the most stout-hearted, though long dead, was indeed true. We walked boldly up to the glass diorama, and I exclaimed “Staring contest! You and me- NOW!”, quoting my favorite Will Ferrel SNL skit. I held the gaze of the taller of the lions until bordem led me to admire the taxidermy and spout off how weird it was that both of these male lions never grew manes.

The bottom line: I ain’t scared. I’m a little disappointed, but sorry, cats- you just don’t got it anymore.