An exercise in insanity

Let's say you're a generally happy person. Let's say, hypothetically of course, that in a given week a person is of average happiness for 5 days, has a great day 1 day, and has a bad day 1 day. That's 14.3% of the time that your happy, the same that your sad, and 71.4% of the time it's business as usual. So that's pretty good I think. Now add a significant other into the equation with the same stats. Someone that you care about deeply. Someone who shares in your joys and sorrows. Who you share a deep connection with. Uh oh. All of the sudden it's likely that you'll have two good days during a given week because if this other person is having a great day on a day that you're average, chances are she'll pull you up to her level of happiness. Remember, you share in each other's joys...Bonus! You just doubled your good days! But, chances are her bad day will fall on one of your average days too and you'll get pulled down in the dumps. Doubled bad days too. So the real question is on the days when you're super happy and your other half is bummed, what happens? Now let me first say that whatever put each person in their respective moods must be even for there to even be a question. Obviously if one person is happy because they found a dollar and the other is sad because a relative died, they're going to shift toward the bad day. But assuming all things are equal, what happens on this day? Do they go north or south?
You could say that it depends on the type of person each of them are, but I think it has more to do with timing. It all hinges on who speaks first. The first speaker will bring the listener to their level. The lesson here is, ALWAYS SPEAK FIRST WHEN YOU'RE IN A GOOD MOOD. That's your new rule. Live by it.
But there's an even bigger problem. Sure your spouse or significant other is a person that can bring you up or down, but I'm guessing (and just guessing at this point) that your children are the same way. Add another person in there and you're really playing with fire. If you have 3 children, you're in danger of never having a good day the rest of your life. But, it's possible you could never have another bad day as well. I wonder what happens if you have twelve kids?

Ok, so I realize this post didn't make any sense, but this is my blog. So I can write whatever I want!

Tomorrow is the baby shower. It sounds kind of funny, but I'm really excited. Not because I'm excited to be at the shower (I'm not even going during the actual event), but this means that we're close to having the baby! And all of these people are coming which means that we really are having a baby! They wouldn't come if it wasn't going to happen, right? Sorry, just a quick bout of nervous father-to-be again. Goodnight.

In a nutshell...

It's tough to cram your thoughts on a profound subject into a nutshell.
A few weeks ago I was asked to speak as a Witnessing Steward at church on Oct 29 (this Sunday). I'm supposed to talk about what the church means to me and the importance of giving (not necessarily monetary donations, but general giving of money, time, and talent).
I almost didn't accept the request because I'm just not all that sure of what my relationship with God is right now. But maybe that's why it's so important that I do.
Today, I finally got around to thinking about what to say and it really made me think about why it is that I'm in the church. After the miscarriage, I was really screwed up. I didn't know how bad it was until I had made it out of the darkness. But looking back, I was lost. Before that time, I would have thought that God would be my comfort in the times of trouble, my beacon in the storm. But when I got there, He wasn't. I felt abandoned and lost with no guidance and no love. My relationship was not what had I thought it was. I wasn't nearly as strong as I had believed. But here I am, on the other side. Not once did I ever doubt the existence of God, but just what He means to me and I to Him. I'm still not sure. But the exercise today, of writing about what the church means to me made me go back to the days when I was just a preacher's kid in small-town Iowa. When God was good and people were real. The world was black and white.
But what I am thankful for is the foundation that upbringing provided. I am so engrained in the church and the church engrained in me that not even the worst of the worst could separate the two. We miscarried on a weekend and the very next Sunday, there we were, back in church. I was angry at God. But there I was, sitting in the pew. And that's what sustained my faith. Not reason, not love, but merely habit. Normalcy. Thank God for that. Without that habit of going to church, I may have been lost.
The church is my family. It always has been. Even when I didn't want it to be. That's the life of a PK. So now that I'm grown and have a home and family of my own, I find comfort in the family aspect of the church. And that's the point.

Not The Same

It's been a while since I wrote anything. Mostly because I've been busy with all the changes around here and the traveling for Grandma's funeral. Life seems very strange right now. Almost like a wool blanket is covering the whole world and we're all just trying to peer through it to see the sun.
It was so nice to see the family while in Iowa. It's really unbelievable how close all of the cousins are. I don't think many families are like that. We all just really like each other and truly care about one another. The whole funeral and everything around it was just weird. The viewing was probably the strangest. So many people came from many of the different periods of Grandma's life as well as many others just to support the family. But it had the air and atmosphere of a party, all while my grandmother was lying in a casket. Dead. She didn't even look like herself. I guess the bodies of the dead never really do. There is an indefinable vitality that gives a living person their distinct 'look' and I guess that leaves when they die. I'm glad she didn't really look like herself.
Grandpa held up better than I thought although most of that can be attributed to confusion due to his stage of Alzheimers. It's so tough to see him in that state of frustration since he can barely hold a 3 line conversation with any clarity. Maybe the loss of memory will protect him from the loss of his beloved. One can only hope. It was reassuring to see glimpses of the 'old' Grandpa that I love so dearly. Brief flashes of recognition and personality are all that remain of determined and wonderful man. Such is life. Ashes to ashes they say.
Leaving him so far away tears me apart. If only I could visit every day, perhaps that would help dull the pain that I'm sure rushes back to him with each flash of remembrance that Donna is gone.
The past year has been the best and worst of my life. I'm generally a pretty even keel kind of person, rolling with the punches and never deviating too far from center. But this year has been nothing but peaks and valleys. It's as if I'm being stretched to my limits. I can't quite rejoice in my successes nor wallow in the darkness because before I know it the tide has changed and dragged me with it. In two days I celebrate the third anniversary of the best day of my life followed quickly two weeks and two days later by the first anniversary of the worst. I can't believe it's been a year. When does the healing begin?