Jordan’s Stormy Banks

Sickness, sorrow, pain and death are felt and feared no more

There is no rhyme or reason that we as mortals can think of for the death of a small child, but today the impact of such a death is rippling through my office. One of my co-workers has a wonderful wife and two beautiful girls. A little after 8:00 this morning the younger of his two children went in for a heart catheterization in her 10th week of life. After beginning the anesthesia, Ella Cate’s heart stopped beating. Her doctors worked for over an hour to revive her, but could not. As I learned of this painful news, I was reminded of my favorite hymn – “On Jordan’s Stormy Banks.” The third and fourth verses especially spoke to me of the promise we have as Christians looking into Cannan’s happy land:

3. No chilling winds nor poisonous breath
Can reach that healthful shore;
Sickness, sorrow, pain and death,
Are felt and feared no more.

4. When shall I reach that happy place,
And be forever blessed?
When shall I see my Father’s face,
And in His bosom rest?

I am bound for promised land.

May we all take a moment in our busy days to realize that the stormy shores on which we stand are but a fleeting moment in our Christian life. We ARE bound, WE are bound, we are BOUND for the promised land.

Metamorphisis

Franz Kafka may have penned the novel, but folks, I’m here to tell you that my house lives the story. Recently my sweet roommates and I have been fighting an uphill battle of us vs. the roaches. Right now the roaches are putting up a strong front, but little do they know that we are closing in on them from all sides. We have sprayed, we have squashed, we have washed, we have sealed, and we have screamed. Now we are bringing in the Realtor to show him the HUGE cracks in our kitchen wall. There is at least, and I’m really not kidding, a 4 to 5 inch gap between the bottom cabinet and the wall. You can actually see the pipes! The abyss behind the dishwasher should have its own zip code and I believe a cross-eyed two year old could have hammered the back boards to our cabinets closer together.

Last night sweet Caroline pulled out the utensil drawer to retrieve a knife – simply to cut her honeydew – and sitting there on our forks was specimen number 483…the roach. She sprayed…it ran…she followed…it died. A small victory for us, but it had the final word as we had to wash the entirety of our utensil drawer. I feel like every shadow has now metamorphosized into our worst nightmare – Not only are they getting more numerous, but they are growing in size! Pray for our safety and sanity as we battle our unwelcome house pests.

Golf

Okay so for those of you who do not know…I have dabbled (emphasis on dabbled) in the realm of golf for about 3 or so years.  Do not be deceived by the length of time because in that period I believe I have only played – serious full length games – maybe 10 times.  So please feel free to join me as I laugh my head off at the following scenario.  I was informed about a month ago that I had been placed on the Wells Marble and Hurst team for a Jackson Young Lawyers Association golf tournament!  Yeppers folks, today at 1:00 I will be teeing off (lets pray I can remember how to do that since the past year I have been working simply on my swing at the driving range).  I am under the impression that the others in my crew are not so steller themselves.  Should be a good time, but I am having flashes of Happy Gilmore run through my brain this morning.  (Please don’t let the dude from Price is Right show up…I really just might go ballistic!)

Old homes

I LOVE my new house at 1120 Quinn in Jackson, but living in an older home that sits on Yazoo clay can be interesting at times.  Case in point – the dishwasher.  Now the fact that I even have a dishwasher is fantastic, however it does have one flaw.  When you open the door to the dishwasher it only opens about 20% of the way.  You have to forcefully push down on it in order to access the bottom shelf.  The hysterical part…and this actually scared the ever living daylights out of me the first time…is that when you push down on the door, the right-hand under-the-sink cabinet door pops open!  It’s like a large version pop-up book.  I died out laughing.  As soon as I can get pictures of the house loaded on here, I will show the world the amazing “Pop-out Dishwasher/Door Combo!”

KFC

For those of you who are not aware: I am moving to a new home over the weekend and thus have had little time for sleep, exercise or anything non-moving related.  Last night was no exception.  I got off work around 6:00 (four secretaries were out and that is just NOT acceptable for our attorneys) and changed into my grubbies to begin another evening of assisting my new roomies in moving out of their respective dwelling abodes.  After ascending and descending several flights of stairs toting a kitchen table, dresser, t.v. stand, the HEAVIEST coffee table in the world, odds and ends boxes, lamps, oriental rugs, and a partridge in a pear tree – I needed food!  Elizabeth, new roomy #1, asked if I was dying of hunger or just slightly hungry because there was more moving to be done.  I replied that I wasn’t at the point of death as of yet, but was entering the panic zone of hunger pains.  We all decided to head for KFC, the nearest cheap meat and potatoes place to us at the moment. 

On the way over there we had all decided what to order so we could get in and out of the drive-through quickly.  Imagine my frustration, shock and immediate anger to have the scratchy little voice on the other side of the order box tell me “Um, yeah, it’ll be 18 minute wait on all chicken orders.”  WHAT IN THE WORLD!!!  18 minute wait on chicken at KENTUCKY FRIED CHICKEN????  Unfortunately for KFC my carpool headed to McDonalds.  Not as satisfying, but quick.  Maybe we should call and reserve our chicken before going to KFC!

The good citizen

When we were all in elementary school, there was an award for good citizenship. An award that was given to students who thought of and helped others. In the adult commercial world, one just doesn’t see the good citizens like they used to. I have indisputable evidence, however, that they do exist.

Every day during my lunch hour I drive 10 minutes to my home to eat a cheap and fast lunch while watching the second half of Law and Order. Tuesday of this week was no exception. I left work at 1:00, drove to my house, fixed lunch, watched the show, cleaned up, set the alarm, grabbed my phone and locked the door. As I took the three steps from the door to my car I realized that in my hands where a pink phone and keys were to be, there only resided the gleaming hot pink phone…alone…no keys. Yes, if you scan the list of deeds in the above sentence, you will find that getting the keys from the key rack was not included.

So I took inventory. The alarm was set. The door was locked. I have no spare keys for the house nor the car. I am in 4 inch heels and a dress. I begin to think of all openings in the house that I might be able to slip through, but all of the windows are set high on the walls of the house and I would definately need a boost to reach them. I remembered that I had opened my bedroom window last night (my roommate can only survive if it’s at least 75 to 80 degrees at night!). I walk to the front of the house where my bedroom window faces and pushed open one side. Good, now for a stool. Ladies and gentlemen, I walked my happy self over to the very full trash cans, dumped all the trash on the yard, toted the empty can to the window, kicked off my heels, turned the garbage can over and proceeded to stand on it in order to crawl through the window.

I had succeeded in getting my head and one leg through the window (yes, I am flashing the entire neighborhood) when a mocha colored Crown Victoria approaches my house. I hear an elderly woman’s voice screaming at me…”we are going to call the police if you don’t get out of there!” Yes, I was being chastized for “breaking into” my own home. I stuck my head out the window and leaned back to see the car and screamed back, “it’s my house, I’m not breaking in!” The woman’s response was “oh! we didn’t think you looked like a robber, but you never know!” I smiled and waved as they drove off.

I did make it into the house, although it ended up being more of a climb, drop, fall process into my bedroom. I ran down the hall and turned off the alarm while it was still in the warning beeping sequence.

There are still good citizens out there, it just takes acts of uncommon and blatant ridiculousness to pull them out.

First posting!

Ok, so now that there are too many balls in the air and not enough phone minutes to farm them out, I decided to create my own blog.  There will be more to come, but I wanted to get something posted before I go to my Kentucky Derby planning party this evening.  While you’re waiting for me to post again (you know you don’t have anything better to do…check out my sister’s postings: mixonitup.wordpress.com !  Enjoy.