And here we go!

My son is into this, as is a friend. Now it's my turn. Since I'm nearly ten years older than our friend and, naturally, even older than my son, I feel rather silly--like this is something that only youngsters do. As you can see from my current title, I don't consider myself a youngster anymore; however, I do consider myself to be more confused than I've been in my thirty-nine previous years. On one hand, I know I'm in good company, so that's a comfort. On the other hand, I'm not usually known to fit the mould, so the fact that I pick now to do so is distressing.

About me. I find that I like to talk about myself more than is healthy or tolerable. I mostly talk about things that frustrate or confuse me--hence, this blog. If you happen upon this, you may want to tune out pretty quickly. If not, maybe you'd like to join me for the forty-something ride I'm on and join in with anything that may strike you in any particular manner.

But I digress.

As you've figured out, I'm a middle-ager. I feel as though I can just now call myself that because I just turned 40 last May and I plan to stick around to be at least 80. I know I have no control over that and that I might not make it to 40 and nine months, which I will be on Valentine's Day. (Wow, when have I counted the months to my age?) But I can dream, so I will. I don't really think, though, that not making it to 80 would be so bad for me. I just don't want to die before my parents. I've seen that situation several times and I love my parents too much to have that happen to them.

Speaking of parents, I am one three times over. "My Three Sons" is the joke amongst folks who find out my parental status. Being alone in a house with four men is, at best, full of surprises (for example, who knew my calm, quiet, nineteen-year-old Bible college student could drive 104 in a 65 MPH zone and, even more, all but get away with it as far as MY version of state law is concerned) and, at worst, laundry- and dirt-enhanced. (How is it that these men, left to their own devices, can take out a relatively clean house in two hours or less?) Our responsible middle son just did get a job at the local fast-food restaurant today. Our youngest son is just plain weird. He has artist written all over him. We love him; we just don't understand him!

My husband works at a crane company--disgraceful when you consider his woodworking talents, but, considering his family circumstances, a most responsible move. He's terribly quiet and sometimes, I think, more than a little frustrated with life. I love him, but he himself is frustrating at times. (Now I sound plain mean.) He was handed a lot early in life and he tries to do everything he can TO be responsible (as I mentioned), but sometimes I wish he were spontaneous. I never have to worry about him parasailing or anything, but then again, I never get the thrill of watching him parasail and loving every minute of it, either. He's way too safe. It's like life is made up of going to work, coming home, going to work, coming home. And worrying. He's the one who flipped when we found out our oldest was going 104 and he's the one who flipped again when our middle one went out with friends last night for the first time since he's gotten his license. I took both situations more calmly than he did--not that he became belligerent or anything. He just dreams up what could happen more often than I do. Maybe I'm apathetic.

In other words, we're the odd couple.

I'm the librarian at the local high school. To be honest, teaching isn't my cup of tea. I love the kids. No, I'm not kidding. I just don't like how our government dictates our schools. I'll be honest, being the librarian is BORING to me, but that's not my biggest frustration. My biggest frustration is that I can't really help these kids. I can't discipline them (they count how many referrals they receive and then compare notes with their buddies) and I can't outright give them the one thing that really counts. Sad thing is that I'm not really sure how I would if I could.

See, my faith matters a lot to me, but I come from a line of personal faith--you know, it's between you and God and no one else. Now I realize that that's hogwash. This is something that everyone has a right to know about--and no, I'm not talking about the religion of it; I'm talking about the relationship with Jesus. We've taken the easy road around that for so long that we can't even relate to one another, much less someone who is not visible. And when you go there now, you're either a fanatic or you're a do-gooder. We Christians have really missed the boat on what we're supposed to be doing. I'm not trying to bash anyone or anything. I just wonder how we expect people to be drawn to Jesus when we're more concerned about how people look and act before we decide they're worth it. (This has been brought on by several different events that have occurred in the past 48 hours as much as anything; of course, I have a lot of those 48 hours, I think.)

I'll probably go on and on about many things that I'm wrestling in my faith. That's for another time.