Poor Amos

I know he is only a canine, not even human....he has four feet, not two, and eats what they call "food" but smells like old, salty meat but I pity him. I do. The last few weeks I have engaged in some part time work activity that has called for me to actually be in an office like most working citizens. I like the little "community" here at the office as I was surely starting to get a little lonely in the confines of the condo/office but I just hate hate hate to leave little Amos at home with nothing but an antler to chew and a ragged frisbee. He follows me to the door when I leave and looks at me with the longest, saddest eyes that just seem to plead with me as I slowly leave. I don't think I can do this too much longer. I know he is but a dog but he has truly been my one friend during my quiet work days at home for the last several months. He even watches Rachel Ray as I type away on my laptop. "They" say dogs don't have a reference for time. For instance, if he is in the house alone for 5 minutes or 5 hours he doesn't know the difference and he get's excited to see me either way when I come home. This doesn't comfort me though. I sense that he is slowly growing apart from me to where soon he won't even need my high pitched greetings and belly rubs to make his tail wag. He is about done with me...I can tell. So, should you be on Peachtree today stop in and give Dr. Amos - The Famous dog - some lovin. I know I can't choose a career based off of my ability to see Amos but I won't lie to you....it's a grave factor in my decisions.

Sinking but I love it!

Ever since I heard this song a few months ago the words will not leave my head. They are good words to have my head stuck on so I am not complaining. Certainly better than the recent pop hit stuff that gets caught in my head. Then yesterday someone sent me something that had a clip of every one's idol, Oprah, in which she said in some kind of words that she couldn't be a Christian or something because God says he is a jealous God. He does. There is a lot more context that I couldn't even give you but it is in Exodus, Chapter 20. Hopefully, the 4pm daytime diva did a little more investigating after her statement. I, on the other hand an so thankful for His jealousy.

The words of the catchy song say this:

Written by John Mark McMillan/ASCAP/CCLI/©2005 John Mark McMillan
www.thejohnmark.com

He is jealous for me
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight
Of His wind and mercy
All of a sudden I am unaware of
These afflictions eclipsed by glory
And I realize just how beautiful You are
And how great Your affections are for me

(CHORUS)

We are His portion and He is our prize
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes
If His grace is an ocean we’re all sinking
And heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest
I don’t have time to maintain these regrets
When I think about the way
That He loves us

(CHORUS)
What neat words to have stuck in my head, right? Well, I only relay these words because recently I have found a gratitude for His jealousy. Everything in this world and specifically, our affluent society, seems to reach for a piece of my heart everyday. This isn't exclusive to just your typical modern day stimuli like a stone house with a big yard, with a white picket fence, and a fast-flashy car and latest biggest designer sunglasses. Those things are obviously fine and all and they can grab anyone but I am speaking more specifically to even the little things and even the good things. Whether it is time spent volunteering or exercise or success or Starbucks - they can each have their way of becoming our own little, tiny, sneaky idols. So in a world with so much to offer I am so thankful that God's love is a jealous kind. I am grateful that He wants me to be satisfied in Him alone without the help of anything else. I like that He wants all of me. I am comforted that He is not okay sharing my adoration.

The few words that really seem to stick are these: If His grace is an ocean we're all sinking. I am happily sinking in this case and so thankful that I could just drown in grace and be better for it.

As American as Cracker Jacks

We are the epitome of your typical American tourist with a fanny pack and white socks this week. It has only been 7 days and Brad and I are so deep into Olympic hooplah that we have abandoned all house chores and anything normal like teeth brushing (kidding). There are piles of clothes in my room that are starting to stink and I haven't seem my sink since this weekends cookies I made. It's bad. It's even affected Dr. Amos. Today I changed his camo collar to his bright RED American collar. Patriotic is his second middle name. The worst effect of our seeming obsession is the lack of sleep. I mean, come on......couldn't they plan these things at a more "American" time like 8pm? When we were eating tacos and watching the display of lights and matching people last Friday for the opening ceremonies we were first mistaken and we thought they were live. The husband says to me "Gosh, we are so egocentric. Of course, we would get the Opening Ceremonies live when it is 7:30 am in China." Well, we were wrong but I sure wish we were right because these 2.5 weeks O'Fun are wearing us out. Tuesday night we waited to watch the American lady gymnasts unhappily accept the silver medal until wee in the morning hours. Lastnight we thought we might be safe....no events of interest but as soon as we start hearing Bob Costas talk we are glued. Saturday we even watched ladies handball. LA-DIES-HA-NDB-ALL. Yes, that's what I said. And then water polo.

Anyway, it's only every four years that we can deprive ourselves from sleep for an entire month so we're okay with it. We're eatin applie pie, drinkin beers and loving being American! And P.S. . . we are going to attempt to set my little sister up with Fishy-Phelps. Oooh la la!

So, in case you wonder....why do those girls immediatly shower right after their synchonized dive? Here is your answer.
And did you hear how many stinkin calories Mr. Phelps has to eat a day to turn on the heat in the pool? 12 THOUSAND!!!! Off to watch gymnastics.

A little trivia for you...Which ambitious young Atlantan tried out for the Opening Ceremonies in the 1996 games? Which same little girl didn't make it?

Perfect evening

Brad and I just had church on the couch on a Monday. I don't have adequate words to express what this message does to me but I know it moves me and comforts Brad and I today in so many ways. Find an hour and listen but you have to finish the whole message.

www.northpoint.org/messages

Go to the second cd cover titles "Home Free - Even me". Go to the second message titled "Fruitcake and icecream."

Grab a tissue and let grace get you too.

Here's how it went...

It was your typical steamy, North Atlanta Wednesday afternoon...about 3:17p.m. to be exact. I was doing as every job seeking applicant does after a potential suitor....relaying every little detail to the husband. After all, he makes better decisions than I do and can see clearly through my fog. There may have been a tear but not due to the most recent job offer but due to everything else. You know, what does this mean? Do we even like ramen noodles? How will our kids go to college? Did I miss my boat along time ago? Was there ever even a boat? Do I deserve to walk this earth and enjoy it's splendor amid my apparent uselessness ?(side note - this "fog" has me a little gloomier than normal but it shall pass. No worries.)

I pull into the Raceway to top off my 1/2 full massive tank. I mean, if I am not bringing in the big bucks at least I can save a few cents by filling up outside the perimeter. $3.82 a gallon perpetuated what was about to ensue.....along with my current state of confusion. I slide my debit as they dont take our beloved AmEx that is hopefully earning us a stay at a sweet Hilton somewhere tropical and far away. My throat grasps for hydration and for that soothing burning feeling of a diet coke. I resist and then I cave. I head for the convenient store to get a 69 cent diet coke with a splash of cherry. I love to make my own drink. I think I am addicted to control. I consider for but a second the fact that I should wait for the gas to stop before I get my oasis of carbonation. You know, gas thieves are on the increase. I survey the crowd. No gas thieves I am sure. Yes, some times we do judge books by their cover. All the while I am still relaying to Brad every ounce of thought that has entered my brain in the last 10 months over the phone. Poor Brad. And yes, maybe still a tear or two (this is part of the story later. I am not needing sympathy.) I decide against the coke. Line was too long. Plus, I can feel at least good about the fact that I will not kill my body with all the chemicals in DC ( I don't know if this is true but last weekend I was at a friends house who is a painter. Her "statement" for her artwork is carbonation + pigment. She chose this statement because the carbonation in the DC that she uses mixed with her paint allows the painting to basically be immortal. I am not sure what the art word is but it is almost indestructable and never fades. Something about her statement has me thinking against my daily desire for the burn of a cold DC???) I head for my car. Insert key. Turn. Turn the AC all the way up as I had already half melted just from walking to and fro the convenient store for no coke. I continue to blab to Brad and pull away. Normal.

4 seconds later I hear the most horrifying crumpling noise. My heart races. My tears stop. I look all around at the crowd previously surveyed. They are looking at me. Bye Brad....Ill call you right back...A bird must have just hit my car. I look. There is no car in my vecinity to have had an altercation with and no dead birds....no cement blocks or inanimate objects I could have hit. Nothing. Fight or flight??? I flew.

As I pull onto Mansell road people are stool looking at me. I call Brad back to tell him all is okay and he doesn't answer. I find out later he was praying that we could cover the cost. This little man is chasing me down the highway so I pull over. I probably shouldn't have normally. I roll down my window and in broken english he tells me "pump on car." Huh??? I paid all 80 something dollars for my 1/2 tank of gas. I get out of the car and walk around to the other side to calm the man down. I see "pump on car." Literally. Seriously. Really. There was a gas pump with a 10 foot long tube attached to my gas tank. I look back to see the crowd...now two businesses away.... still staring and pointing at me. As anyone who attempts to drive off with the gas pump would do I pull out the pump, screw on my cap and carry the pump and 10 foot tube back to the station....tears full on now. I am not sure how the next few minutes transpired. They were fast and blury and all I know is I was told I could leave. They asked if I needed to go to the hospital since apparently my face looked like I'd been hurt. I had. The last several months have left me a mess. My heart hurts. I want to be used. I want to be part of a story. No, I don't need the hospital. I don't really know what I need.

I know....this is where I lose you. See as my previous boss and friend would always say..."Waffles and spaghetti." No, not for supper. For women and men. Men can keep everything in a nice little square. Nice and compartmentalized. Not me. Not most women. The fact that I drove down Masnsell Rd with a gas pump connected to my car has to do with the fact that I am lost and that I am needing purpose. My head is foggy and it can't see clearly and it surely can not make rational decisions or large decisions about jobs and direction. I know half of you don't get that but the other half of you do and it is so true.

On the sunnyside of life...Even after my gas station folly I was still offered a part time job working with my parents as the "Marketing Manager." of their company. Nice title. And I get to see my mama and dad a ton. And, I get to meet with people during the day which has certainly been missing the past several months. And for now, I have Monday's and Friday's off... though hopefully, I will find some other shenanigans to keep me busy and out of trouble on those days. I am excited about this opportunity. I miss being around people during the day. Too much of anything is never good my mama always said. And lately, too much of "me" has just worn me out. So , I start Monday with some formal training on linens. Yes, linens. But I don't think of it as linens...I think of it as a way to "bring luxury to your everyday life!" I am ready for this! Oh, and, I will also be doing some sales training with another company. I am super pumped about this opportunity even though it may start out a little slower than I would like. Check out the company: www.teamenthusiasm.com. My picture and bio will be up soon. I love that I will get to train and teach others how to succeed. I know I have not been a success-phenom recently but I know how to get there....God just has me being a little refined right now. After all of this, I know more how God created me, too. And just knowing that a little more gives me the confidence that I can do anything!

And, the even-sunnier thing.....I don't have to pay to replace the gas pump.

Our favorite things

Let me tell you about some of our favorite things of late.
1) The half mile wooded stretch on Vermont street near our neighborhood. You see, Amos-dog is cherished. Brad and I just adore our little "pup pup". Most of the time we agree that Amos was the best addition to our marriage. Yes, often, we will agree, too, that Amos is killing our relationship. How does that happen? This happened recently when Amos jumped on the forbidden place, our bed. I let him stay there because I was wanting Brad to pay me some attention and then what do you know....Amos squatted and let the flood gates open. This was not a good night.
But at least twice daily Amos gets a walk. Our favorite route winds through the classic homes of Brookhaven. Most of the walk is shaded by the large Oak trees and other varieties that I can't say but that Brad can tell me all about. We all love when we come to the the little wooded area off Vermont. We illegally let Amos off the leash and he hops through the monkey grass chasing butterflies and anything else that flies. This is a Bagwell favorite place. Brad and I follow Amos pretending for a brief moment that we live near the woods and we venture to get lost in them as often as we can. Something about the outdoors for the three of us. It just does it!

2) Dinner with mama or anyone else that should care to cook for us. One negative implication of a career based out of the home is that after the work day - I don't want to be home. Much less, I don't want to cook or clean or do anything that I should enjoy. But we also get pretty tired of eating out. We have a few staple eateries that we seem to frequent. There is also a hidden goal to try to eat at these fine establishments for less than $14. This is near impossible but it is a fun game. So anytime mama or anyone else's mama wants to cook...even if it is a grilled cheese sandwich - we are thrilled! We'll drive the 40 miles round trip just to sit at a table (that's the other thing....we don't really have a table) and enjoy a healthy, delicious home cooked meal. It is delicious just by the fact that I didn't have to think, prepare, plan or cook it. I do love to cook so don't feel too bad for Mr. Brad or our marriage. I just don't look forward to it after being home all day and not seeing the outside world.

3) Brewster's at night after the walk through the wooded stretch. We used to walk just to walk....you know, to get the heart rate pumping a little after dinner only to come home and feel light and free. Then we discovered a secret. It's actually not that much of a secret as every dog in a 2 mile radius seems to know about this trick. If you take your dog to Brewsters they will give the dog companion the cutest little "doggie cup" of ice cream with a dog bone on top. Amos knows by instinct if we do not turn right at the first street that we are headed to the ice-cream haven and he automatically starts skipping. I don't mind telling you, too, that he is surely the center of attention at the ice cream parlor. He sits and waits patiently while other ice cream lovers admire his cuteness, knowing he is about to devour some creamed ice and a little cookie bone! He dances and twirls the whole way home all fat and happy. Unfortunately, this little habit of ours sort of takes away from the "exercise" aspect of our nightly walks. Oh well, life is short.

4) Thunderstorms and heat lightening at night.

5) The anticipation of the fall season. This favorite has nothing to do with the obnoxious heat of the summer that we are experiencing currently and everything to do with fried chicken and the windows open in our condo and tailgating with family and rowdy friends and pumpkin spice lattes at Starbucks and slightly chilly nights and the joy in recalling a splendid wedding that took place last fall. Brad and I both love change. He deals with it much better than I do but it is a fact about us ..... we like change. Yes, mama, I may not embrace it but I like it and Brad is teaching me how to actually wrap my arms around it. So what a better way to enjoy change then to literally watch the Beauty of the world around us change from bright and brilliant to confident and bold the way it seems to happen in the fall. Much of our conversation on our nightly walks seem to surround the nearing fall season and all the smells and memories that follow....

6) So You Think You Can Dance. No explanation. We have every episode saved on our Tivo and I have threatened Brad with divorce if one is erased. Secretly, he loves them too. After an episode we try our latest favorite move in the empty space in our bedroom. I am not kidding. Don't let Brad tell you otherwise. We LOVE it. I am going to be Chelsie Hightower for Halloween and Brad is going to be Twitch. Enough said.

And.....things we don't like:
1) Finding a job.

Off to continue with the one thing that seems to suck the life out of me but hopefully tonight there will be a thunderstorm right before our walk through the woods on the way to Brewsters as we discuss the nearing fall season and the latest couple kicked off of SYTYCD.