To Whom it may concern,
I will pray for whomever and whatever I feel like. If I want to pray for the crack in the sidewalk then I will get on my knees and pray for that crack to be gone in the name of Jesus. If I want to pray for the fallen in Paris then I will do so. No one owns my emotions but me..and sometimes I am unable to fully understand what makes me feel the way I do. The same goes for hashtags. I will hashtag #meatballs and I will hashtag #PrayForParis and it’s really none of your business. #GetYoFaceOutMyPrayersandHashtags ∞
To Whom it may concern,
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I can sometimes be captain obvious with my advice to my 3 amazing girls. These are 20 things that I think about but don’t think I’ve ever said.
Ok, let’s play a game! I got the letter “P” Something I hate… Pleather. It makes my thighs weep. Something I love… Plastic..think about it. Plastic rules the world. I’m communicating right now with it. It’s water proof. It can be shiny..or not..depending on your needs. Thinking about investing all my money in plastic futures. […]
Ok, so I think it’s time we all got something straight. I don’t want to “smell it”. Not your watch band. Not your dinner. Not your dog. Not your hands….for the love of god NOT YOUR HANDS. Not your leather jacket. Not your second hand smoke. Not your puppies breath. Not your coffee breath. Not your bad breath….breath shouldn’t smell. Not your car exhaust. Not your underarms. Not your curry based food. Not your old trash. Not your grandmas old chair. I DON’T WANT TO SMELL IT. A coworker asked me to smell their watchband this morning and before I could react shoved it in my face. I almost threw up. In what world is that remotely acceptable? So, what have we learned this morning? I DON’T WANT TO SMELL IT!!! ∞
Night Sleeping Requirements:
Is the pillow cool enough? Are my legs positioned so they don’t put too much weight on each other? Can I hear anything? Are my arms tucked in nicely and not at any odd angles? Can I stop thinking about the day’s events? Is enough of my body out from under the blanket so that I don’t overheat? Is my alarm set? Is Jennifer Aniston happy? Are my toes safely tucked in to hide them from monsters?
Morning Sleeping Requirements:
Is the surface vaguely horizontal and not entirely made out of hornets?
So, this coworker of mine ends every conversation with laughter. It’s always about work so there really is no reason to laugh. I’m just standing there feeling uncomfortable, so I laugh too. And there we are, both laughing, having no idea why. Good times right? We are in a meeting today with the whole team […]
1 – I am finally resigned to the fact that I was in the best shape of my life at two. You would hardly of recognized me then. 2 – No matter how hard I try, 5’6″ will never be 5’10”. I will always walk on the high part of the hill. I am not […]
If music be the food of love, play on
Just seven years ago, if someone had told me that I’d be writing for Christianity Today magazine about how I came to believe in God, I would have laughed out loud. If there was one thing in which I was completely secure, it was that I would never adhere to any religion—especially to evangelical Christianity, […]
Originally Posted March 18th, 2011 to Facebook. Tuesday August 6th, 1985 My girlfriend and I found out she was pregnant and on March 14th, 1986, a beautiful baby girl was born and adopted by 2 wonderful people. I was lucky enough to spend 2 days with my daughter before kissing her goodbye and wondering if […]
Alan Jackson sings “He Stopped Loving Her Today” at George Jones funeral. He didn’t give a speech. He didn’t ask for attention. He walked on stage and did George Jones proud. This is how you do it.
I haven’t listened to this song in many years. I’ve heard it, but haven’t really listened to it and taken the time to really let it sink in. When Alan Jackson takes his hat off and sings the last line…it broke my heart. What a song, what a performer and what a moment. ∞
One of my favorite songs ever.
Everybody’s Got It On The Inside
Randall Bramblett Band Version
Glen Pridgen Band Version
I’m getting off the elevator as a young punk looking kid is getting on and we bump into each other. I smile, he smiles, and then as I’m walking away he calls me a “butt monkey”. So I jumped back in the elevator with him and rode all the way up to the eighth floor. He seemed very uncomfortable. ∞
I love this picture. My girl and her Swing dress.