Sunday’s Super Bowl ads did not disappoint
You knew I would be watching the Super Bowl.
Because TV is involved. And:
I also did some adulting last weekend. We took a family trek to Pettitis to look at planters. For other “I’ve-been-living-on-a-bunk-bed-in-NYC-can’t-drive–and-never-owned-a-plant-until-35-years-of-age”, a planter is the thing you stick the plant in so it doesn’t blow over.
Let me continue this thoughtful explanation for you. The planter thingy holds the topiary thingy which is not, as I first thought, “a green Snowman thingy.”
I have grown people. Grown.
Apparently, so has the 10 year old population of Chagrin Falls. For Seb’s birthday party next weekend I asked what kind of cake he’d like. “Uh mom, kids don’t like cake.”
Perhaps what God meant to say was, “When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away cake.”
I also recently calculated that I’ve been a parent for 43,800 hours. So, according to Malcolm Gladwell (and Ryan Macklemore) I’m way past the 10,000 hours mark. I should be a pro.
I am not.
I went to the dentist last week. As my very nice sadist, sorry dentist, put a rod in my jaw bone, I had time to just sit and think.
As the late Ephraim Levy once said (nod here to my fellow Hello Dolly fans) “Money is like manure, it should be spread around helping young things to grow.” I thought about that.
And thought about how our greatest strengths are usually also our greatest weaknesses. At least mine are.
How Eric recently became an elder at Fellowship Bible. And how to reference both Frozen & The Crown with that news:
And how Brad Pitt, my husband mind you, must have it so hard being handsome and underestimated in life. Read it to believe it.
And wondered why the world puts pressure on early dating after hearing how toxic Selena Gomez found her “young love” with Bieber and how John Mayer did a number on Jessica Simpson (read this NYT profile for yourself).
I don’t think I missed out on anything by starting dating at 30. And agree with Salma Hayek who says she’s grateful she was “a late bloomer” in her personal life, because by then “she knew herself properly.” She married at 39. See the movie “Runaway Bride” for fuller commentary on this idea.
If God brings you someone earlier in life, and you’re ready for that, be grateful. But if He doesn’t, God’s not “being mean” by withholding for a time. I wish I’d been spiritually mature enough back then to understand and believe that.
As Joni Eareckson Tada puts it, to paraphrase, “forego the instant coffee in the hotel room for a Heartwood latte later on.”
I married my Heartwood latte 5 years ago February 7th. And wouldn’t change a thing:
And since I’m living my high school years at 40, I couldn’t resist this nod to High School Musical: The Musical Series as a love song for my Eric. As you can see, Miss Margaret Joy was just thrilled to be a part of this:
In hour 2 at the dentist I moved on from ruminating about God, Brad Pitt, and singleness and pondered Tim Keller’s January 29th “Meaning of Marriage Devotional” about marriage not being for only our private happiness but being a “public good”.
Next, I comforted my dental anxieties by remembering that my hero, C.S. Lewis, also had a thing about dentist/sadists:
“What do people mean when they say, ‘I am not afraid of God because I know He is good’? Have they never even been to a dentist?”
“It doesn’t matter when you grip the arms of the dentist’s chair or let your hands lie in your lap. The drill drills on.”
It would also help if before my appointment, my dentist / sadist has thought to tell me I’d be on a “soft diet for 6 weeks.”
I got tired of my thinking / complaining and subsequently played my “Playlist for Pain”:
Yes, love is action. It spilled from His veins and gives us a love, to borrow from J. Lo, that “don’t cost a thing.”
Which is something to remember on Valentines Day as we sing “La Vie en Rose”, consume our Dove hearts, and remember that “there is no one like our God“, cue Ein Kolheinu: