Master Yoda's Conundrum:

Chelsey is wondering...

...about happy mediums.

Is there such a thing as a happy medium?

Is there such a thing as a medium?

Is there such a thing as happy?

Hmmmm

A misunderestimation, and good news for the fish

Well, as you all know, Bush is only going to be president for a few more days; and though not everything he has done was memorable, he has certainly left us with a substantial volume of memorable quotes. Don't get me wrong: I'm not picking on the man--I have nothing personal against him: bad grammar and misspeaks (whatever the heck they are) can happen to us all, and after all, he is a politician and a product of the American Education System....

I'll resist comment: it would ruin it. Some of my favorites:

"I'll be long gone before some smart person ever figures out what happened inside this Oval Office,"
-- to Israeli journalists in Washington in an interview published May 12, 2008

"There's an old saying in Tennessee -- I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee -- that says, fool me once, shame on ... shame on you. Fool me -- you can't get fooled again,"
-- Nashville, Tennessee, September 17, 2002

"I want to thank my friend, Senator Bill Frist, for joining us today ... He married a Texas girl, I want you to know. Karyn is with us. A West Texas girl, just like me,"
-- Nashville, Tennessee, May 27, 2004

"I just want you to know that, when we talk about war, we're really talking about peace,"
-- Washington, June 18, 2002

"Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we," -- Washington, August 5, 2004

"I remember meeting a mother of a child who was abducted by the North Koreans right here in the Oval Office,"
-- Washington, June 26, 2008

[Ok, ok, I know I said I wasn't going to comment, but, heck! I had no idea the national security crisis was that bad!]

"I know the human being and fish can coexist peacefully,"
-- Saginaw, Michigan, September 29, 2000

"Too many good docs are getting out of the business. Too many OB/GYNs aren't able to practice their love with women all across the country,"
-- Poplar Bluff, Missouri, September 6, 2004

[Uh, me here again: all I have to say is, "WHAT?!"]

"Rarely is the question asked: Is our children learning?"
-- Florence, South Carolina, January 11, 2000

"You teach a child to read, and he or her will be able to pass a literacy test,"
-- Townsend, Tennessee, February 21, 2001

"Those who enter the country illegally violate the law,"
-- Tucson, Arizona, November 28, 2005

"They misunderestimated me,"
-- Bentonville, Arkansas, November 6, 2000

I'm not blogging.

I feel guilty that I haven't blogged since the sixth.

So here I am. Blogging.

Hey, if Elisabeth can blog about cottage cheese and snow boots, at least I can blog about not blogging!

There, I've done my duty to my blog. Ok then...I'm, uh...gonna go back to not blogging now. See ya 'round...

I'm so weird

I'm so weird.
This morning I was awakened by my cell ringing--not by its usual alarm clock ring of the Hallelujah Chorus (why the heck did I pick that ringtone to wake me up?), but by its actual phone ring.

"Hello?" I sat up groggily.
"Uh, Chels, I have kind of a weird question..." the voice at the other end said.
Nothing new. "Shoot," I replied, rubbing my eyes.
"Uh...What's the plot of Much Ado About Nothing?"

Oh boy; you ask me this in the morning?

"Umm," I mumbled, "you'd better get a pen and paper..."

Five complicated minutes later, I was done. And I don't think she understood quite everything--and I don't think I was quite clear, either; it is, after all, Much Ado About Nothing. She should be very happy that she wasn't asking for the plot of The Comedy of Errors, or Midsummer Night's, heavens forbid.

Which brings me to my point: I think I'm the only person I know who would get a call in the morning, asking for the plot of one of Shakespeare's craziest play. I'm just weird like that, that I know stuff.

Yeah, I have mad skillz.

They've fallen and they can't get up; or, The Lakeland Disaster; or, "Whoops..."

So, the Fresh Fire Ministries website has put out another statement, after all these months. Apparently Todd Bentley is filing for divorce, refuses counseling, and is NOT down with being held accountable for his actions. As my friend Andy says, hard to resist an "I told you so"--but this is as close as I'll ever come, I think; I might not have the gift of compassion, but I'm not heartless.

I'm just glad there's now one less joker on the streets, leading people astray. Now everyone, not just people with a bit more discernment than others, can see the truth for themselves (I hope).

I pray for the redemption of Bentley, for real this time, and for the countless others he's impacted--for "good" or "bad".

Musings

I've been writing lately again. Not the scribbling I do here; I mean really writing. I haven't done it in years...

I used to write pages and pages in my storybook every day--I would carry that thing around with me everywhere, I was never seen without it. When I was younger, some of the things I wrote were not very nice... Let's just say I was definitely too young to be writing about them, but I had an even worse outlook on life than I do now (imagine that! --This was all B.C. of course.). Then, I got serious about God, and grew disgusted with myself as I realized what I was writing. And I made Him a promise: I told Him that I would never write again unless it was something He gave me. And so I haven't written in two years.

You have no idea how much that hurt--it was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I felt like a sculptor that had only finished half of a statue, then didn't complete it. I had five or six major stories on my drawing board at the time--and I was more than half way done with many of them. But they all went into my filing cabinet of stories, and I haven't thought about them since. (Well, not too much...)

Until now.

God has been giving me, in little glimpses, pictures. And the pictures are telling me how I can still finish my stories--but with different endings, that glorify Him.

One of my stories that I started about five years ago when I was learning to play guitar is about a kid who can play, but is stuck in a group home, and is roomies with a kid who has Down's Syndrome. Originally, the main point of the story was the guitar; that was before I got a baby brother with Down's. Now, I'm getting all sorts of ideas...

Another story was about a Deaf girl and her hearing mother who do not understand each other. The hearing girl becomes friends with a hearing girl who has a Deaf mother. I've met more Deaf people now, and I understand the culture better--I wouldn't have been able to finish the story adequately if I'd have finished writing it seven years ago when I started.

And poems have been coming too. On Christmas night, I told Jesus that I wanted to give Him something, but I didn't know what. Then I realized that I wanted to write Him a poem--but I told Him that I couldn't do it without Him giving it to me (Funny how that works, isn't it?). It normally takes at least fifteen minutes for me to write a poem, and then I fix and finagle with it some more. I was done in five minutes, and I haven't touched it since.

God is good, even when it seems like He's trying to take something beloved away from us; maybe He's just holding it back until the right time...

And maybe I'll post some poems here, if I get the chance.