Gucci Jesus

Do you ever notice how, whenever you see a photo of Jesus, he looks like a Gucci model? Or, at very least, a handsome frat boy who looks like he lost his razor?

Here, Jesus made a stop at Olan Mills:

Seriously, though, have you ever stopped to think about what Jesus really looked like? Not what white Europeans wanted him to look like, but what he really DID look like?

Today in church there was a song and along with the song there was a video of Jesus (yeah, who woulda thunk!) looking like a Gucci model. Instead of concentrating on the words of the song, I whispered my musings to Scott and he nodded his head in agreement. 

Popular Mechanics magazine featured an article in 2002 about what the scriptures say about Jesus' appearance. They even give us their interpretation of how he looked, which is definitely alot more Jewish looking:

Anyway, just something I was thinking about. When I think of Jesus healing the sick and casting out demons, I think of the white Jesus, the guy who is so attractive the ladies are all scratching their heads, wondering why he's still single.

I suppose in the end it doesn't matter, because God's point in sending Jesus was not to win a beauty contest, but to "seek and save that which was lost."

In reality, Jesus wasn't attractive and people thought he was a loon. I like to think that, if I were lucky enough to be alive during the span of time that Jesus was here on earth, I would have accepted him with open arms. But in all honesty, would I have treated him with the same amount of disdain and distrust he got from most of that society?

Probably.

T Bag, I'm getting old.

I walked up to an unsuspecting crowd of seniors yesterday in the Target food court simply because I couldn't resist their politics talk. I was floored when I learned 3 out of 4 of them were voting for Obama! The lone republican in the group and I high-fived it. Actually, I held out my hand and he didn't have a clue what I was trying to do, so I had to say, "high five!" I waxed poetic about the perils of the bailout and I watched their eyes glaze over as they wished for death. I have that effect on people when I start talking politics, you know.


They told me they didn't care so much about the bailout; they'll be long dead before the proverbial malodious excrement hits the fan. "It will all be on their shoulders," the lone Republican mused, pointing at my red slushy-faced children.


I sort of matched the seniors yesterday. We couldn't resist the magnetic pull of Target on our walk, so I walked in and ordered some treats at the food court, shorts, black socks, tennis shoes and all. (I know, Kiki and Blogstalker, I am not so good at the fashion thing. I need some pointers.)


We went to a fun kids' park today with my crazy cousin and her four children. The fourth is still gestating, but how fun is THAT to say!





























There was a man in line at Chic fil A who told me I had a leaf in my hair. "Want me to take it out?" He asked in a soft whisper. I turned around and it was as though I were staring into the eyes of T-Bag from Prison Break!



I told him he could take the leaf out of my hair and then I prayed to the Lord that he wouldn't slit my throat.



I've been watching too much of the boob tube. And for the love of Pete and Martha, did I not TELL you I am a freak magnet?????????



But really, Prison Break? SOOOOOOOOOO good.



Asher really needs a stuffed animal. I turned around from serving organic oatmeal with fresh milk from the cow out back (or fruity pebbles, you make a guess) to Lucy. I found him canoodling with the flatware. Hey, didn't Laura Ingalls Wilder get one solitary shiny penny for Christmas? The kid will survive:

writhing neuron

I am feeling less and less like a writhing neuron these days and more and more in control of my obsessive thoughts.

We've been taking walks, stopping to gaze at our reflections in a puddle left over from the rain. Asher looks for puppies and Lulu looks for kittens. Gosh, they are cute, perched in the safety of their stroller, pudgy, sticky fingers pointing and marvelling.

My house is organized!

I've lost another pound, because I've been exercising EVERY morning (yes, pushing a stroller full of 55 pounds of kid up and down very steep hills for 40 minutes is exercise), and I've also been having a protein shake and LIMITED sweets.

I've been reading my Bible, which is a new thing to me.

I've been telling myself I just need to chill when the kids are asleep, and enjoy my clean living room and read a book.

I don't HAVE to do A,B and C today or call 18 people or tick off ALL the things on my to-do list. Because, you know, it will be there tomorrow!

I've kept myself OFF of blogs and news sites and political sites. And it's done WONDERS for my psyche. I've realized that spending ANY time on the computer while the kids are up is not how I want to spend my time. It's not how I want them to remember me spending my time, or how I want to remember spending my time when they are big and grown.

So, with all that, there isn't alot of angst and drama to write about.

Boring for you, but I sure could get used to this.

party food

Ok, tooney belles (what I call Lucy when we are feeling conspiratorial), what shall I serve at my jewelry party tonight?

Remember when I told you I would rather be eaten by a vampire with newly-sharpened teeth than to host one of these God-forsaken parties? I was wrong. I want free jewelry and I wanted to have people over. So, here we sit.

I am thinking a fresh fruit mixture and those little cheesecake bites that come in that gingham wrapping from Costco, and I am also thinking some pita chips and hummus and rootbeer in bottles, coffee, and some sort of sherbet/ice cream punch if someone wants that. Thoughts? It always seems like I make so much food and no one eats it anyway.

I painted the closet doors in my bathroom. I will have to take a picture to get opinions on what colors to go with for the shower curtain. Ah, my life, so many tough decisions.

I actually called Scott at work the other day, telling him I found some organizers for the sock drawer. He just paused and started laughing. I guess I was unduly excited about that sort of thing, but it's exciting, right?

Right?

I really don't have alot to say. Asher is finally starting to talk a little bit more, and OH MY GOSH HIS FEET ARE DISGUSTINGLY DIRTY.

He is laying on the bed next to the computer desk and he looks like a little ragamuffin.

I need to clean the floors.

About my snarky comment about the woman bragging about her home bith. I'm jealous, ok? She was probably just sharing her experience with the rest of the world, but I am sensitive about it. I am jealous of people with normal pregnancies and births, since I never got that. BUCK UP RACHEL. IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL.

Except I have issues when it comes to all that, and then I think how stupid my "issues" are in light of the crap that other people have to deal with, and so then I paint things around my house and organize and take Lucy to preschool and remember that things like that are just small things and I really, really do need to get a grip.

Lu told me my rearrangement of her room looked "funny". I said, "Funny, strange?" "No, Mom, just funny," she replied. "But you mean funny, like strange!" I persisted. "No, Mom, you're teasing me. Stop obsessing about it."

And with that, she flounced out of the room.

Lu made me do it

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so funny

Scott sent this to me and I had to share. Watch this.

Note all of the different faces at the end of it. It's SO funny! Whoever came up with this is extremely witty and creative. Aren't the estimates of all of the politians involved spot-on?

Is anyone else SO ready for the elections to be over?

well, hello, there!

I REALLY want to spout off about how reading about someone brag about their perfect home birth makes me want to vomit. Really, it does. I just want to say, "You are SO lucky you didn't have a prolapsed cord that required an emergency c-section or that your baby didn't have birth defects." But instead, I click away and write a snarky comment on my own blog. That's legal, right?

I have been busy wrangling a 3 year old's emotions and making sure the 1 year old doesn't get trampled in the process.

Here are our photos from our trip! It was WONDERFUL! (If you click on the photos, you can see them in a larger window.)

see you on the flip side

My cousin sent this to me, and I realized how many changes I HAVE been making for the better in my life. It feels SO good to tell people "no" when I don't want to do something or feel uncomfortable with something.

It's so interesting to me how at first saying "no" makes you feel like you're mean or a bad person. And then, slowly, you realize that if you don't say "no", you will become angry and anxious and never able to say "yes".

Yes, it has taken me almost 30 years to realize these things. Better late than never, right? I have had 3 different exchanges in my life within even the last week where I definitely had to tell someone, "No." Even now I question my decision, but deep down I KNOW I made the right choice, regardless of how those people feel about my "no". At times in the process I've been downright discouraged and sometimes a tad lonely, but I see a pattern of having friendships that are NOT give and take, and I'm tired of it. Friendships where I am actually told, "This relationship needs to be about me." Wow. How do I find these people?

So it's gradually changing, and the unhealthy relationships are being replaced by healthy ones.

We have our new roof now! I am lazy right now and it is raining, but I will post a picture soon. It looks good!

We leave in a few days to go to California. One of my best friends married one of Scott's best friends, and, well, it's been too long! So off we go! We're leaving Asher with Scott's mom and stepdad and leaving him brings up all sorts of OCD tendencies and anxiety, but I know if I DON'T do it then I will never be able to let go.

Rationally, I know he'll have a much better time with them, and it works out better logistically. Earlier this week I was having visions of all sorts of things happening to him. These visions aren't based in reality (thank you, OCD), as Scott's mom is 856 times more careful with the children than I am. He smiled a bit when I pointed that out.

I don't have alot more to say, so while it's raining where you are, think of me on the beach.

Wow

http://english.aljazeera.net/news/americas/2008/09/200891133339749344.html

DMV

I was just going to write a post about how my friend in California desperately wants a c-section to delivery her second baby girl, since her first birth was so traumatic and she took months and months to heal. I told the story to Scott and he replied, "So let me get this straight. She can kill her baby; she just can't have a c-section? Aren't they all about choice out there?"

My husband is great. Witty and funny and we just work. But my rant will have to wait for another time, because, well, honestly? I'm just tired of it all.

Back up to last Thursday, the day that catapulted my thoughts on all of this. I was waiting with the kids at the DMV for new tags, because ours were stolen.

To my right was a man in his seventies who claimed that Sarah Palin was sent by God to save our nation. He also ascertained that the world would end sometime after January 1, 2009. He told me that God had revealed that to him. First of all, God WOULD do something like that. Isn't it Jesus himself who said to not even bother trying to figure out when these things will happen? So to simply rule out the last 3 months of 2008 would seem to be something He would do.

Anyway.

I was inwardly giggling, and then the Jeff Daniels look-alike to the left of me started spouting about how people in this world are evil and he wanted to get his new tags and electrify his truck so that the next time someone tried to steal them they'd get a surprise. He also informed me that he was at the DMV so the cops wouldn't beat him with a club when they pulled him over. I started laughing. Is that wrong? The guy was hilarious.

Anyway, as our tickets were called and I looked at the sleeping faces around me, I wondered if this is what death's waiting room looks like.

The DMV is the great equalizer: you HAVE to go there to get things renewed or you'll get arrested. The DMV cares not whether you are living on a trust fund, trying to feed 3 hungry children on one meager income, or just got your license. The DMV is a hungry beast waiting to be satiated. You can't get to DMV nirvana (walking out the door) until you settle your debt. For me, it was $3.50.

We can talk politics, religion, gay rights, abortion rights, poverty, Aids in Africa, sexism, racism.

We can talk Target deals, birth control, gun rights, roofing colors.

But at some point, that screen is going to flash. And it's going to be number 38, or 75, or 115. And at that point, you'll meet the One who will ask you to account for your decision for Him or against Him.

You won't have political pundits, or friends who agree with you, or self-help books. You won't have your google email account or your beautiful children to show what good you've contributed to the world.

As I sat there and reflected and realized that there was an entirely different set of people in that room not 2 hours ago, I stopped tapping my foot on the dirty floor. I was sobered to realize that many of those people in that room with me had consciously chosen a decision against God.

Was it too late? Could I influence them for Him in any way? Could I show them how great He is?

I believe that we choose to focus on so many other things because it anesthetizes us from having to make a choice.

I was talking with a friend in my kitchen a week ago, and I was congratulating her for sticking with a particular belief even though she wasn't entirely sure she was believing it all. I shared with her my struggle to commit to Jesus Christ as the way, the truth and the life.

"Well, I think most people like to waffle back and forth on things because it prevents them from having to make a choice."

This friend's way of looking at the world is always compelling, and her words rang in my ears several days after we talked.

I offered an elderly couple at the DMV our seats, and I told an angry-looking teenager he could go ahead of me. Then, a man who had been complaining about the teenager "budging" asked me if I would like to sit in his spot, and he traded me tickets. He apologized for being a jerk, and he complimented Lucy and Asher on their behavior.

"She's going to preschool at our church this afternoon, and she's so very excited!" I said, wanting Him desperately to know that there were indeed nice people in churches.

I am so frustrated that I lack the courage to be one of those people at the gas station who hand out tracts. But then, I guess to me that tactic seems so forced and non-committal.

All of these things we spend our time and passion on will eventually be dust, do you know that? Ever since that day at the DMV I am seeing things differently. I feel myself pulling back a bit from political arguments and trying to convince others that Jesus Christ is on my side, and that a certain political viewpoint I hold is His, too.

Who does that eggrandize, Him or me?

The DMV is the great equalizer.

So is the end of this life.

John 14:6
Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."

registration fun

It was so fun today, going into the kids' room and hearing the SPICE GIRLS playing. Oh my goodness, my daughter surprises me. Lucy and Asher both were dancing away to Mel B.! Scott joined in and it was priceless. The moments of life, eh?



Question for you. You are telling your newly-engaged self what to register for, what not to register for. What do you tell yourself?



Here's mine:



No, Rachel, do NOT register for cheap things just because you don't want your wedding guests to have to spend alot of money on you. Remember at your shower? When you oohed and aahed over the dish set because it seemed like a big gift for one person to buy, and then you remembered that the dish set was only $10 and it lasted, oh, 3 months?



And another thing: THE COLANDER SHOULD HAVE BEEN STAINLESS STEEL.



WHY, GOD, WHY did you register for those horrendous sepia-toned jungle photographs? Really, why?



And the towels, oh, dear, the towels. You registered for 2 bath towels. And 2 wash cloths. That's it.



********

So that's why I spent $190 at Target today.



Your turn!

if you needed a laugh...

This is PRICELESS! Did you all see Piper licking her hand to groom her brother?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GliQjmuf8_s&feature=related

cue that cheezy fiddler on the roof song

Seriously, when did she grow up?

you?

You ever have one of those days where you were supposed to get a lot accomplished, but instead the kids have played a very violent version of "restaurant, let me take your order please and then push you over, Asher" most of the morning and you've read a book? And you fed them the cheap kind of macaroni and cheese for lunch and really really hoped it was nap time? And you don't know how much longer you can handle a teething toddler? And then you felt guilty because you shouldn't be having these thoughts? And your bed is calling out a sweet melody to you?

You feel blah but you're not sure why; you're anxious but you're also tired. You have been pacifying these emotions with food. And that makes you more depressed, because you've consumed the calorie allotment for the day in one measly morning.

You need to go to the DMV, but you really don't want to wait at the DMV with a toddler and a preschooler. You also need to call people back and schedule appointments, etc., but you don't feel like talking on the phone. And then you feel more guilty.

Why do I feel guilty for having a lazy day?

What is the antidote?

my abortion soap box

I had a talk with a friend about one-issue voting.

If I had one issue it would be abortion. Do you know why? The answer is simple: If you value nacent human life, then you are wont to value all forms of human life. And the fact that you value all forms of human life will most likely necessitate the fact that your governing style will reflect that.

All of this broo-haha about Palin's daughter having a baby? Let me tell you this: some would say that they want women to have the right to choose. You ever notice, though, that there DOES seem to be some judgement when the choice isn't your local Planned Parenthood?

And do you ever notice how we never hear about the awful pain many women who have had abortions face, even decades later? No. It's all about the right to choose, to do what you want with your body. It's a quick fix; you just aren't informed about possible complications in bearing children in the future or the agony you'll face in knowing you made that decision.

Go, women's movement!

I have been enjoying my days. LOTS of organization going on around here; you wouldn't believe it! Our garage needs help, but otherwise, I actually know where things are!

If you haven't gotten the Stephenie Meyer series about the vampires, GET IT. It is that good. Thank you, Jess! Off to read the book in my CLEAN house! (Still can't get over that one.)