Last summer I posted a blog about my possessed Toyota. It’s called Trevor Christine if you need to catch up. It occurred to me that some people may doubt the validity of my story. So I decided to prove it. The proof quest took some time because, well, I kept forgetting to document the odd behavior until I was driving. Or maybe Trevor Christine knew what I was up to and foiled my attempts? Hmmm. Continue reading
Eden
Two commandments
seemingly at odds with one another.
How to keep one
without completely breaking the other? Continue reading
The Book of Mormon in the church building
Here’s the story about the Book of Mormon in the church.
My mom felt inspired to write her testimony in a Book of Mormon and give it to one of the ladies she visit taught. The person she wanted to give it to had not been to church for a long, long time. This lady decided to stop attending church before I was even born. And we all know that truly is a long, long time ago.
Sweet dreams
Occasionally I dream of my mom. I can no longer see her face but I can feel her presence. I simply know it’s her. Lately, when mom does come to visit in a dream it’s with the “she’s not really gone. She didn’t die. She was not as sick as we thought,” theme. I get this hope inside me. You know, like the hope Rafiki gives to Simba about Mufasa. Simba chases after the aged simian and the audience thinks, “Oh, I hope Mufasa is really alive!”
I wake up as disappointed as Simba when he looks at his reflection in the pool of water. Mom is gone.
When she does make an appearance in my dreams she usually talks to the family. Or helps us out. We tend to keep her pretty busy. Some things never change.
I experienced a rather stressful weekend last week. Not bad stress just busy stress. I kept busy from quitting time on Friday to Sunday afternoon. At times, I felt overwhelmed. Sometimes inadequate. I questioned if I am really cut out to do the job asked of me. Thankfully, I was so busy I didn’t have much time to devote to self-doubt.
By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around I felt exhausted. I gave my best and prayed it was good enough. That night I had a momma-dream. This time we just hugged. It was a long embrace that lasted until I woke up.
It was enough.
I received the strength I needed to face my week. Yeah, I got this.
ok
Every Monday should be a holiday
Every single Monday
should be a holiday.
Then nobody
would dread a Monday.
Of course,
the evil day
would then be
those darn Tuesdays.
Coworkers
would ask you –
is it a case
of the Tuesday blues?
And I’m sure
we would get greedy –
four days off
sound better than just three.
So why not
include Friday?
Yeah, the weekend will be
Friday through Monday.
And Tuesdays
will have the Tuesday blues.
A three day work schedule
for me – how about you?
And that my friend
is why every Monday
cannot always be
a blessed holiday.
© 2013 ck’s days
This and other fine poems available on Amazon
No offense, Mr. Ligety
I’m not into the Olympics. This will become painfully obvious the more you read this post.
I’m barely aware of the fact the Winter Olympics will soon start in Russia. I’ll become aware of it when the games start to preempt my television shows.
So when NyQuil started running commercials featuring Ted Ligety I giggled.
When did the Olympics begin allowing Dr. Seuss characters to compete? How many times will announcers say something such as “Ligety lickety-split!”? Or “Ligety – lookity him go!”?
Surely, it’s not just me.
It’s probably just me, isnt’ it?
Sometimes ignorance provides the most fun.
Pacing
Anxiety and worry
I tend to wear on my shoulder
Still I carry on
like a frightened soldier.
Sleep will not come
for the troubled and concerned heart.
The load is heavy
when adversity will not part.
A rut in the floor
will be impressed soon enough
as I search for answers
primarily filled with love.
Answers elude me
when I try to find them alone.
This is more than
I can ever do on my own.
My troubles make me
pace a thousand times or more
but no peace comes
until my knees hit the floor.
The answer comes,
“Your troubles I will keep.
Rest now child,
it is time for you to sleep.”
© 2013 ck’s days
This and other fine poems available on Amazon
My past two months – YouTube version
On November 17, I received a different calling in church. Callings are responsibilities and assignments. It’s our opportunity to serve in church. I found out about the change on October 25 – right before I left town for the weekend. It was a long drive to Manti. To eliminate gossip I couldn’t tell anyone the news quite yet. And I didn’t. It about killed me. Okay, not really. Just being dramatic.
I’m not a good secret keeper and if anyone paid attention to my Facebook fan page they would have known the secret.
First, I served in my old calling for 4.5 years. I’m a little disappointed I didn’t make a full 5 years. This was the first inclination change was a coming for little old me. I felt sad to leave my girls.
I told you I’m dramatic.
As I waited for it all to become official, I had many mixed emotions. Sad to be leaving. Excited to be starting. Nervous to be doing. That kind of thing.
That’s when I reshared this gem. To be honest though, I’ve shared this one before so this may have been overlooked as a secret slip.
That has been my theme song. You know, in a religious sense. I felt I had done all I could do. There was nothing more to give. I could detect some backsliding happening. For the benefit of the young women, it was time for me to move on.
So, my last post reflected the future. The unknown. What soon approached.
Okay, not all of this song applies to me. I kind of had to change it to “Journey coming to pass” to make it a little more applicable. But that first line kept ringing through my head. I needed courage. I still need courage because I’m not a very courageous person.
So, I’m not the best secret keeper. Luckily nobody cracked my sophisticated code.
