Do you know you're prayed for?

I bet you didn't know that I pray for you.  I have hundreds of readers from all over the world, and I don't know most of you, but I pray that all who read my blog would be encouraged, uplifted, challenged and know they are loved and important. 

But sometimes, as I'm led, I do pray specific prayers for you.  Yes, YOU.  The one behind the screen of their desktop, with kid's snotty fingerprints all over it, the one I don't know. 

You.

The one with the back problems, or the chronic fatigue syndrome.  I pray for you, the one who feels guilt or a parenting decision and you, the one who feels bad about yelling at her kids today. 

I pray for you, the one who just lost her job and wonders how she will make rent.  I pray for you, who wonders if you even have enough gas money to get you to school.

I pray for the one who can't stop crying because something hurts and the one who can't stop smiling, trying to hide that everything hurts.

I think and pray for you the one whose fears and anxieties control every aspect of your life.  I pray for you who can't muster up the courage to pursue your dream.

You.

I'm praying for you, the one who just found out her parent has cancer and you, the one whose husband just said he's addicted to porn. 

The one whose child is not progressing as they should and the one whose child is spewing hate towards you.  I pray for you whose child is no longer earthside.  I pray for you as you make difficult parenting decisions regarding your teenager.  I pray for you who longs for a child to hold.

I pray for you, the one who feels ugly all the time, the one who hates her forehead and the one who believes her life isn't worthwhile unless she can fit into 'that dress' and get rid of 'those hips'. 

I pray for you as your grapple with the aftermath of abuse.  I pray for you, the one whose life is riddled with anger, yelling, raised voices and violence. 

I pray for the one who greets her husband with a torrent of critical words every night and the one who sends arrows of jealousy as you look in envy at your neighbor's perfect life.

You.

To you who thinks God hates you, He's distant, He's forgotten you; I pray for you.

I pray for you, who still feels the pang of your abortion, you who drowns in the guilt of the secet affair you had, and I pray for you who holds a dark secret that you just can't bring to light.

I pray for you whose husband who ignores you with a busy work schedule.  And you, the one with no husband at all.  I pray for you, with the husband on the couch, uninvolved.

I pray for you as your husband criticizes your cooking, your cleaning, your mothering skills and critques your physical body.  I pray for you, the one who is sure she's 'fallen out of love with her husband' and found her true love instead.

I pray for the one who looks like she has all her shit together, but really masks the pain with an addiction.  And you who contemplates if life is worthwhile.

You.

I pray for you who is overcome with depression and you, the one who feels worthless and you, the one who wonders just exactly how you will end your own life. 

I pray for you who lurks in the shadows of shame, you who hides behind the mask of pretension and you who covers her eyes and wishes the pain to go away.

I don't pray for you because I think I'm better than you.
I don't pray for you because I know the right answer.
I don't pray for you because my life is peachy.

I pray for you because I care about you, love you and want the best for your life.  I pray for you because I've been there.  Because I AM THERE.
 
So, from ME, the one who doesn't know you, the one who doesn't have it all together and has dealt with many of the above issues....and ME, the one who doesn't know how and why prayer works, but knows that God loves you and cares for you and has the best plans for your life....I'm praying for YOU! 

And I mean that.

Photo courtesy of thereformation.net

My first 5k: Juicy details included.

I like running.  A lot.

But I never sign up for any races.  I hate failure and I really didn't want to be the last person to cross the finish line. 

There.

I said it.

Anyways.  About a month ago, my girlfriends convinced me to do a 5k with them.  I trained jogged 11 times in preparation for the 5k.  I wasn't expecting anything great, but I wanted to finish under 30 minutes.  Or I wasn't going to do the race at all.   That was my goal.  

What I got instead, was an amazing morning, with some of my best friends, great competition, comradery, laughs and the best sense of accomplishment. 

I was pretty nervous the two days before the race.  I DID NOT WANT TO FAIL. Period.  As I listened to my ipod the night before, and blasted Eminem (don't judge, best tunes to get you jacked), I had two thoughts.

One, This is your first 5k. Many people walk their first 5k, so it's OK if you have to walk as well.

Then, the second thought, Go out there and kick some booty!  You have no excuse. Rock this tomorrow. DO IT!

I listened to the latter thought, thankfully.  Maybe if I was listening to Michael Bolton I would've entertained the first thought a little longer.  But nope, Em had my head bobbing, my foot tapping, my mind envisioning, my adrenaline lifting, my face smiling and my head ready.

The 5k participants - Dressed up in our Rosie the Riveter garb

Running the route

Just crossed the finish line! I did it!

My baby was waiting for me.  Even though she had no idea what had just happened, I was so happy to hold her, sweat and all!

The three 5k runners.  We're all nursing mamas and we joked about how many sports bras we were wearing! ;)

I'm content.  I wish I would've pushed it a little more, especially to get out of the slow clump of people at the very beginning, but I just chalk it up as a learning experience.

Finish: 27:51, 104th place out of 452 overall, 40th place out of 311 women, and amazingly I made it into the top 10 of women ages 20-29!

New goal: 26:something??? :)

I can't wait for the next one!

Do you exercise at all?  In what way?  Have you ever run in a race?

What a craptastic day.

I had a most divine day yesterday.  I did. 

Although it was filled with appointments and teaching piano lessons, which were great and uneventful, my day ended with a GNO.

A girls night out.  Good food, good drinks, good laughs.

I'm not huge on 'I need to get out of the house to keep my sanity' because mostly, I'd rather stay home with my husband and baby and cuddle and talk and watch PBS.   The only thing that could make me seem more boring than that is if you put some embroidery floos in my hands (no offense to my most excellent embroiderer friends-I'm inspired by your work).

Last night while out with my girls, I realized that it is good for me to talk with other moms and hear what's going on in their lives.  We also like to talk about other non-momish things.  I love my girlfriends, and after a night with them, I always feel encouraged and refreshed.

I guess that all of yesterday's good was preparing me for today's not so good, but not horrible, day.

I was stockpiling goodness.  I probably should've stockpiled some more.

Today, I spent all morning running around the house, cleaning, doing dishes and laundry and taking care of a little girl named India. 

This little girl named India, started to go to the bathroom, so I quickly took off her pants and diaper and rushed her to the toilet to do her business.  I use a thin, flushable liner to catch her poo.  If she happens to poop in her diaper, I just take it off and flush it down the toilet.  No rinsing the diaper.  Easy peasy.  And most of the time, she comes to me, starts pooping a little, and I get her to the toilet, where she does her duty, and we have no mess. 

After she is done, I put the disposable liner in the toilet, flush and put on a new diaper and liner. 

I did all that, except the flushing the toilet part. 

We went back to playing, when I noticed she had to go again.  Quickly, I ran her to the toilet.  While I was trying to set her on the toilet, I was juggling the poopy diaper in my other hand...and it wasn't firm by any means, if you know what I mean. 

Wiggling 9 month old with a poopy butt in one arm, Mama with fresh clean clothes on and nasty diaper in the other hand.

Ooooh, you know this is going to be bad.

Because of my multi-tasking, I was totally deserving of having that diaper not only fall and slide it's way down my pant leg, but through the course of trying to avoid it, it landed on my nice, fuzzy slippers and I then smooshed it all over the bathroom floor.

Yuck.  After she was finished on the potty, I tossed the liner in the toilet, and was so quick to get the shitake off me that I rushed to change her and me, and forgot to flush.  Again.

I had already started the laundry, so I had to do another load, with just my pants and slippers.

Sigh.  This day had started pretty stinky in every way.

We had it set up that while I was teaching piano lessons and Dallas was officiating baseball this afternoon, India's grandma Shelly would babysit her.  Unfortunately, Grandma Shelly had to cancel due to illness.  India's never had a non-family babysitter, but I called my neighbor to see if her daughter could come over once she was finished with school.  She said yes. 

Babysitter crisis averted.

Next, I get a phone call from a number I know, expecting it to be someone I really like talking with.  Instead, it's someone that I don't enjoy listening to, so I was a little peeved that I was 'tricked' into answering.  There was a miscommunication between us, we went around on the issue for a while, and I was already feeling feisty, but I held my tongue.

Whew.  At least I didn't make a mess with that one.

About 25 minutes before one of my afternoon students was going to come, I went into the bathroom to brush my hair and put on a little makeup (maybe for the first time today), and I noticed that I hadn't flushed the toilet after India had gone to the bathroom. 

So I flushed.

And apparently, putting two disposable liners in the toilet is a bad, bad, bad idea.  Like, plug the toilet bad.


The water rose pretty high, but it was contained.  I went to change the laundry (remember my poopy slippers?) and came back to a poo-water flooded bathroom.

In just 5 minutes. 

Enter choice words.  I think I literally said, "oh shit"!

Just callin' it what it is.

Apparently, the toilet had been running.  I would stop it, then it would start again, flooding the bathroom even more.

India was as curious as all get out, and threw a complete tantrum when I made her sit in her least favorite spot, her exersaucer.  All she wanted to do was play in the water.

I threw every rag and junk towel that we own onto the bathroom floor. 

Then I decided to flush again.  And again. 

And oops. 

It was a disaster zone.  Less than 20 minutes before my piano student was coming. 

Screaming child.  Mama with no makeup.  Poowater bathroom.  Second pair of slippers full of diluted poo-ness.

In between leaving play by plays on Dallas' voicemail and trying to comfort India I noticed my piano student had arrived - early!  I quickly closed the bathroom door, and started piano lessons.

Lessons went good, and India's babysitter was great too.

As soon as lessons were over, back to the bathroom I went, sloshing up cold poowater with rags while thinking, "There has got to be a better way to do this!  Like, maybe some fuel and a torch"!

And here I sit, writing, eating barbeque potato chips as my dinner, waiting for my poor knight in shining armor to come home, to a nasty bathroom, in a couple of hours after officiating a double header and working over 12 hours yet again today.

And maybe dreaming that is was still yesterday and I was out eating yummy food with my cute girlfriends.  

Was my day that awful?  No, there was lots of great parts to it and I've had worse.  But it sure did make me laugh and say, this day surely was craptastic, in the literal sense of the word!

Now, excuse me, I'm off to find a working bathroom!