Idea of the day:

Wedgies are fun to say, uncomfortable to have.

hehehehehe wedgie

Friday turned out to be a pretty busy day.

I showed up for work around 8:30. A few phone calls, a trio of articles, and I was home by 4 p.m.

See, I was to cover a school board meeting that night at 7, and to keep my time card within respectable overtime limits I had to hit the road early (so I could stay out late.)

So, I got home, leisurely made some coffee and just relaxed. With my steaming mug o' Joe, I settled in on the couch and watched some Oprah (Hey, don't judge... I have four channels. It was either her, Judge Judy, Judge Judy copycat or Montel. I chose Oprah.)

That day's episode was a how-to seminar for the single ladies of America.

"Do these things and you can catch yourself a man, American women."

As I chuckled (and secretly took notes... hehehehe), I lifted the coffee cup to my mouth.

Wooo wee, it was H-O-T!!! The mug equally as scorching. It was so hot, I didn't want to hold the mug too tightly at the risk of searing off my fingerprints.

SIDE NOTE: In any seminar, FFA event or lunch meeting I have ever attended, they talk about the importance of a firm handshake. Web of the hand to web of the hand and hold securely for one pump up and one pump down. Then let go, lest you be labeled a creep.

Well, the loose grip got me that day. As I gingerly juggled the cup... it slipped out of my hand and splashed hhhhoooottttt coffee all over my lap and chest.

And time froze. Coffee arced out of the cup. If the arc had been bigger, I'm pretty sure some surfer could have totally hung ten on its curve. The cup slipped from my hand and floated mid air as the liquid came up and over the side of the cup, ribboned downward and splashed like Shamu on to my lap... there was so much liquid that it slid all over the couch, in between the cushions and soaking me down to my socks.

Everything was wet: me, the carpet, the couch... yep... that's everything.

Blah.

You know? I had a meeting in an hour. I didn't have time to be cleaning up a mess, changing clothes and trying to get coffee out of the upholstery.

No time for this mess.

Yet, I had created it.

Ooooh, how I wished I could have turned back time and not spilled that coffee.

That seems to be a common wish of mine.

After I screw up, I immediately want to go back... back when things were good...

Back before my hamper smelled like Starbucks.

And back before I hurt someone's feelings with a flip comment, put God on the back burner to watch a 10 p.m. showing of Everybody Loves Raymond, and wasted valuable time on nothing.

I screw up a lot.

But it kind of helps me be a better lover of people and a better forgiver. If I could go back and prevent the stupid things I did, then I could give the appearance of perfection.

And I'm not perfect.

I don't mean to mess up... but I don't not mean to mess up either.

Sometimes my screw ups are just what I need to remind me that I'm forgiven. Sometimes my "no take back" messes and stains are a reminder that although I really made a mistake, and it hurt, and I don't like the consequences... and I think I'm going to be scrubbing out the mess forever...

"The Lord will have compassion on Jacob; once again he will choose Israel and will settle them in their own land........

On the day the Lord gives you relief from suffering and turmoil and cruel bondage, you will take up this taunt against the king of Babylon:

How the oppressor has come to an end! How his fury has ended!....

All the lands are at rest and at peace; they break into singing."(Isaiah 12)

Isaiah is a book full of judgement and scary scary consequences for Judah and Israel's (and mine) sin... but there's also the story of release.

They were released from that captivity.

Isaiah talks about the coming of Jesus.

It talks about the future Kingdom.

This morning we sang It's Well With My Soul:

My sin, oh the bliss of that glorious thought. My sins not in part, but the whole, was nailed to the cross and I bear it no more. Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord, oh my soul.

Because of Jesus, I'm free from sin. It's still there, and I can still sin... but through His sacrifice, I'm forgiven... and through the Holy Spirit, I have the power to overcome and rejoice.

Hence the word redeemed.

So... if I could go back in time... then... well?

I guess I wouldn't know all about that redeemed business.

Plus, I think after all that scrubbing, my carpet is cleaner than before.

Funny how that happens.

:)