I’ve been thinking a lot about dressers, but from a whole new direction, a theological direction. 

I have a beautiful handmade walnut dresser. Complete with tongue in groove/ dove tailed drawers.  Large square knobs make it easy to open and add a great art deco feel.  I have a very stubborn dresser ideology that I must share.  The top drawer is of most importance.  I call it the pantie drawer.  In the pantie drawer you are likely to find any and everything that must be kept safe.   To this day I keep my best jewelry in a divided drawer compartment tucked safely between the rows of panties, slips, bras and tights.   My children know to never get into my panty drawer.  The top drawer is off limits; a safe place that I call my own.

The most important is always in the top drawer.

Right turn here…

God is number one in my life.  I have always ascribed to an ideology of prioritizing my God over all else.  I have instructed women to put God first, then husbands then children.  In fact if you ask my children they will tell you they are third place in my world.  That might sound harsh, but in all actuality it has given my children all the security they ever needed.  To know and grasp that God is number one, daddy is second, tells them that they do not have to be concerned about a broken family.  In today’s world that goes a long way.  But two days ago my practice to put God first and my ideology of the dresser collided and rocked me theologically! 

Collision…

I was given the privilege to sit under a DaySpring guest teacher for one hour.  His teaching-the Gospel; my favorite subject.  The cold hard facts that Christ took on humanity, suffered, died, buried, rose on the third day, ascended and will return!

Indisputable, irrefutable, undeniable!  News, the good news, the only news that really matters! 

And then he painted a word picture about God’s place in our life.  He started…and my world moved!

Picture a dresser.  We say God is the top drawer.  But I contend that God is the dresser and everything else (drawers and all they hold) should fit into the dresser.  God is not the top drawer, He is the dresser.  Think on that…

Oh my, had I been lumping God in as one of many things I juggle?  He is first in my life, but really He is my life.  Not just first, He is everything. 

Now I am not saying I have never thought of God as my all in all.  I have!  I do believe that.  But all these years I pictured him on a list, the top of a list, but a list just the same.  And I wonder what misguided thoughts I have had because of this small deviation, from true theology.  The truth of the matter is just as our speaker said, He is not number one in my life, and He is my life. He is not the top drawer of a dresser, He is the dresser. 

It is a subtlety, but it’s the small things that mislead, that cause us to stumble.  

The question is not where is God in my life… the true question is…Is God my life or just a part of it?

I see people lamenting on FaceBook & Twitter that with the onset of fall, they are forced to pack away the flip flops, the sandals, the Chacos. Are you kidding me?  I love summer as much as anyone else but once Labor Day comes and goes, I pull on the boots!

Boots totally rock.  I am a self-proclaimed shoe aficionado.  And of all shoes, boots are the best!  Short boots, tall boots, black boots, snow boots, Wellies, cowboy boots…there isn’t a boot I don’t like. 

So here it is mid-October and I find myself on the prowl, the hunt, the mission of finding this season’s greatest new boot.  I think, no, I know it has to be a short cowboy boot.  But not a designer cowboy boot, (that would be kind of lame for a girl in a cow town in the south), no it must be the real deal, purchased at a real cowboy boot store.  Cavender’s in Springdale, here I come!

Of course I have no intention of using said authentic boot for its created purpose.  I live in a neighborhood; I don’t ride horses or sling hay (or whatever you do with hay).  I have morning chores but I do those in my slippers. 

No, I intend to wear these boots with denim dresses, jean skirts, maybe even with a pair of Victoria Secret’s Pink Sweats (not pink, black), tucked in the shaft.  I have dozens of pairs of tights that will be perfect with my new boots!  And of course I must get a micro-floral dress to match.  Side note, buying clothing to match accessories is perfectly plausible.  Trust me I have a degree in Fashion Marketing and I would never lead you astray. 

Now the big decision, color????   I’m thinking red…

At the park entrance stand this sign.  I have never paid too much attention to it.  Oh I read it, but honestly I must concentrate on leading a very strong willed dog, and keeping my aging body from tripping.  To add a third responsibility of watching for falling limbs is just beyond my capacity.  After all even while watching will I really be able to see it falling?  I have yet to see a falling branch.  I see branches that are fixin’ to fall and ones that have fallen, but I have never seen one in descent.  I have however seen many falling stars, (but they have a long way to travel so I can catch a glimpse of them). And falling stars rarely injure anyone, but are fun to watch.   

This sign was added to our park after the ice storm of 2009, when many trees were damaged.   Honestly I think it has been a waste of taxpayers’ money. Who will truly dodge a falling branch?  It is so unlikely.  It should say listen for falling branches, now that I can do.

One particular day, as I was walking and not watching for falling limbs, I came upon this…

Now I am not sure this is what the sign expected.This blocked my path, and it caused me stop & think, (well I didn’t actually stop, I turned around).

This ‘falling limb, could have really hurt someone had they not been looking.  And could they have gotten out of the way in time, even if they had been looking?

Then I wondered what are the falling limbs in my life that I should be watching?  What are the predictable danger zones for me?  What are my key areas of weakness  that cause me to stumble?  The most irresistible fleshly desires of the wicked carnal self? (Too dramatic??  Perhaps a bit over the top, but I bet you know what I mean.)  Distracting habits  that block my path?  That could cause injury to me or others?

This fallen limb brought me to a moment of clarity.  If I don’t watch for falling limbs I could be hurt, but more than likely I could create an obstacle to my path or the path of others. 

If  it distracts, or causes a detour, it needs to be watched, and watched carefully. 

I share an issue with millions of American women-food.  Some of us eat too much and the wrong things, some of us eat too little.  But both sides of this coin are dangerous.  One end of the eating spectrum,  can lead to heart disease, joint issues, back pain, death.  The other end of this spectrum can lead to organs that stop functioning, hair loss, joint issues and even death.  Why is it that something we must partake of can be so distracting? 

Other addictions are most difficult in their own right, but cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, sex, all of these are not life sustaining so one has a choice of abstinence.  This is not a choice with food, ugh!  Sometimes I just wish I never had to eat again.  But that would be as foolish as the community of Springdale cutting down the trees, so that falling limbs would not exist.

God created food, and He gave usthe sense of taste.  Food is to be enjoyed.  It is not just to sustain my life, like breathing does (I personally receive no joy from breathing, but give me a peanut buttered frosted brownie, and now we’re talking). 

So what’s a girl to do?  I am at the end of my tricks, my solutions, my diet plans.  At this point, I am ready to surrender.  Not to give up, but to give ‘it’ up.  Stop trying to control or fix this issue on my own.  It is time to just completely surrender this area to Him.  The creator, the one who knows me best.  The only one who is not surprised that I am at this place and that it took me this long to get there.  He knows what is best for my health, He knows what weight He desires for me, He knows what size I should be, what I should eat, when and how much. 

So this struggling girl is starting a new adventure.  I trust Him with this area.  It’s gonna be a moment by moment trust decision. 

Anyone else up to the challenge of surrender?  What’s your distract-or?  Let’s watch for those falling limbs together.

Perhaps my favorite three little words ever uttered by my sweet, John.  It was a snowy day and he had stayed home from work. 

I was a stay at home at the time (hardest & best job ever), and once the roads cleared, John agreed to drive me to TJ Maxx (I don’t drive in snow…ever!)

I had just one item I wanted (needed, I’m sure) and it was at TJ Maxx.  And y’all know if you see something one day at TJ and you don’t get it that day or the very next, it will not be there.  Well that was right where I found myself.   I must make my way to TJ!

John does not care for TJ Maxx (sacrilege, I know).  I kind of feel the same way about Best Buy.  But I cannot understand how anyone cannot like TJ, come on, it rocks!

Usually John drops me at TJ and makes his way to Best Buy. But on this particular day he walked in with me, and I was no more than past the purses when he called to me. 

I waited… I was expecting to hear…

Make it fast!

Headed to Best Buy!

Remember the budget!

Just one thing!

 And then he uttered three little words that made my heart melt, my head soar, and my soul lift

Get a cart.

A cart!  Did he just give me permission to arm myself with the greatest invention known to the shopper?  How empowering to stand with hands around that plastic coated handle, purse buckled in the seat ( this way I can focus on shopping not shoplifters), and one empty cart beckoning for product. 

My dream come true.  A man who says, Get a cart. 

Gentlemen, anyone can say I love you, but few of you say…

Get a cart. 

I love my man!

Never, Ever, EVER, feed your dog Beanie Weenies.

I make the best Beanie Weenies.  I bring pans of Beanie Weenies to the office and in 20 minutes they are all gone.  In fact I have hosted 2 Beanie Weenie luncheons.  They are quite the talk of the office. 

Here is my secret recipe:

Oscar Meyer all beef wieners-cut perpendicular to the ends of the hot dog.

Fry in butter.  Make sure both sides get good and brown.

Add 2 cans of Van Camps Pork-n-beans in the frying pan

Add liquid smoke

 Serve with buttered bread

 Even though I am the world’s greatest Beanie Weenie maker, John does not care for them.  He says it makes him feel poor.  So I serve them when he won’t be home for dinner.  The rest of my family has the good sense to know these are a delicacy and should be savored.

 But I am warning you…never ever, ever feed Beanie Weenies to your dog.  Even if you are out of dog food; don’t do it. 

You will be sorry.  I know.

 A few years ago as I sat at my desk working away, I received a frantic call from my Allie, (age 16).  She was clearly impaired by some event taking place in our home.  She sounded like she was holding her nose.  She quickly expressed that I must get home immediately.  She and Dawson were trapped in my bedroom and starving to death.  They could not get to the kitchen because there was dog poo ALL OVER THE HOUSE (I have used all caps, because I need you to remember this point, it will be important).

I had only been at my new job a few months, and I wasn’t quite sure what the professional protocol was for leaving work early for what was clearly a family emergency.  How could I let my children stay trapped in my bedroom holding their noses and starving to death?  This must be attended to immediately.

Now at this point you must know that my family has a panache (isn’t that a fab word), for the dramatic.  And yet even though I knew that I wondered as I drove 25 miles to our home, what in the world was I going to walk in to?  Was there really dog poo, ALL OVER THE HOUSE?  And why?  Why had the dogs gotten so sick? Would this require a trip to the vet.? Would I have to call in Hazmat to clean the house? 

And then I remembered.  And I began to laugh.  In fact I was laughing so hard tears were filling my eyes and I could barely see the road. 

 I remembered that we had run out of dog food and I had fed our two dogs Beanie Weenies the night before. 

 I called Allie, and in between hysterical fits of laughter I finally communicated what I had done. 

And she replied, well you deserve this mess, and I’m not gonna help you clean it up (as if I ever had any hope of that, she did after all call me home from work).

Well the rest of the story is this… there was not dog poo ALL OVER THE HOUSE.  It took me moments to clean up our home, light candles and feed the starving children in my bedroom.

But it was worth it, it made me laugh to the point of tears.  And anything is worth the laugh it brings.

 But please never ever, ever feed your dog Beanie Weenies!