face to face with this heart of mine

Voice Post

2009-04-18T00:43:35Z

"I Told You So"

I dunno why all the strange little beeps are included . . .

Voice Post

2009-04-18T00:23:29Z

Be warned - me singing "On My Own" from Les Miserables.

An Obituary for Mr. Sense

2005-07-22T16:13:45Z

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Mr. Common Sense. Mr. Sense had been with us for centuries. No one knows for sure how old he was since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such value lessons as knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, a penny saved is a penny earned, and that life isn't always fair.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not kids, are in charge, and spare the
rod - spoil the child).

His health began to rapidly deteriorate when well intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. - Reports of a six-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. It was hastened by the ruling of the Supreme Court that equates free speech as free expression such as burning the American flag.

Mr. Sense declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer aspirin to a student; but could not inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense worsened terribly when a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot, she spilled a bit in her lap, and was awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; criminals received better treatment than their victims; and terrorists at Gitmo were provided better food than the elderly and poor in America.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust, his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by two stepbrothers; My Rights and Ima Whiner. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he is gone.

janeausten @ 2005-07-21T12:52:00

2005-07-21T17:53:21Z

Now, this poll is a little racy for me, but, I did promise wurmwyd that I'd post it for him to respond to. (As though we don't already know!) So, feel free to jump right in and respond, too.

[ ] Kiss me
[ ] Hug me
[ ] Fuck Me
[ ] Love me
[ ] Hate me
[ ] Lie to me
[ ] Be true to me
[ ] Hurt me
[ ] Sing with me
[ ] Dance with me
[ ] Let me make a move on you
[ ] Make a move on me
[ ] Date me
[ ] Go out with me
[ ] Please me in more ways than 1
[ ] Let me kiss you?
[ ] Watch a movie with me?
[ ] Let me borrow your car?
[ ] Be my gf/bf?
[ ] Be there for me?
[ ] Buy me a drink?
[ ] Bring me around your friends?
[ ] Give me a massage?
[ ] blow me/eat me out?
[ ] Take me to the club?
[ ] Let me be your first for something?
[ ] Get drunk and make fun of me?
[ ] Take care of me if i wasn't feeling good?
[ ] Let me take care of you?
[ ] Re-post this for me to answer your question

for shelly!

2005-07-21T13:22:16Z

Are you a reader? Do you like books? Want to talk about books you liked and didn't like and all that jazz? Join _bookish_!

G'head now. Join.

G'head.

Gon'.

GO!

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

2005-07-20T13:21:51Z

This post is spoiler free.

So I stayed up late to finish Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. My goodness, what a read. I have to say it's one of my favorites of the series. And I have to say that I was correct about my plot predictions, as well. (Much to my dismay, that is.) By the by, should anyone like to further discuss the topic, shoot me an e-mail to jenna [dot] czaplewski [at] gmail [dot] com. I trust you know how to dechiper that code. I don't want to spoil anything for anyone who does not want to be spoiled.

Now I face the daunting task of selecting which book to read next. I go through this every time a new Harry Potter book comes out and I finish it. I feel like nothing is going to compare to Harry Potter and I'm sure some well-deserving books get the shaft because of my bias. I'll have to go through the bookshelves downstairs tonight.

No work for me tonight - yay! Instead Mom and I are resuming Wednesday Movie Night with "Mr. & Mrs. Smith." I want to see it, she doesn't. This should be interesting.

Speaking of Mom, she's been rather cranky of late. I need to tell her it's my PMS week, not hers! ;)

update

2005-07-19T21:43:16Z

And even as I begin this, I wonder to myself if any of you out there really give a damn. It's been nearly a week since my last update. I could have fallen off the face of the earth by now and not heard from any of you! Tsk, tsk, children. How you hurt my feelings!

Anyway. I'm around. Working, living, reading. Yes, I'm reading Harry Potter and I'm very anxious to see how things work out. But I'm not done yet so no one spoil me or else I'll throw the world's largest temper tantrum. And that just ain't pretty.

I bought a new computer for home. It's lovely and quiet and actually allows me to run more than one program at once. I can browse the internet without fear of things just shutting down. And it wasn't too bad price wise. Mom doesn't seem to be getting on with the new machine all that well, but that's just too damn bad. She'd best stop complaining before I yank the new one out, give her back the old crappy one and keep the new one all for me! ;)

Work is work. I come in, I do what they ask me, I go home - where my life truly exists. Last week's review really hammered home a few things. That who I am and my self worth aren't determined by my job. That I know what I'm worth and my bosses will never acknowledge that. That I'm damn good at what I do and my past "mistakes" keep getting thrown at me because they have nothing else to say. That I deserve more than I'm getting here. That God will truly always have a plan for my life and I need to trust in Him when things are bad and He will see me through. That cuddling with a warm puppy is excellent therapy for a crushed spirit and wallowing.

I had a last minute babysitting job last night which earned me $35. I'm putting that toward tickets to "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat." Claire has finally learned to say my name and heaven help me those kids have my heart. All of them. There's nothing better than watching a soon to be two-year-old run around with cookie on her face and her little butt cheek hanging out of her diaper. Unless it's hugs and kisses from kids you adore with all your heart who say "I love you, too, Jenna" when you tuck them in. Priceless. Trust me on that.

Tonight I need to do some things at home and call Jim. He's back in town and called me on Sunday, but I was at my Dad's and I haven't gotten to call him back yet. And there must be Harry Potter time, friends. Must be.

janeausten @ 2005-07-14T22:08:00

2005-07-15T03:12:31Z

What it boils down to is that I work for assholes and bitches. Nothing I ever do will ever be good enough for them. Once again, my past so-called "errors in judgement" from 18 months to a year ago were brought up in my review. Along with bogus claims that I "spend too much time on the internet." Which is bullshit. I love how I get accused of doing something I didn't do and then, when I defend myself and have the gall to say that there's an explanation (try fucking pop-ups and spams you rat bastards) I get looked at like I'm crazy.

There's more to the story. And perhaps I'll be up to posting the whole shebang tomorrow. For now, I'm upset. I managed to hold everything together long enough to get home where I started crying and then had to stop to go babysit. But now bed is calling, I'm puppy sitting so I've got Macca to curl up with. I plan on crying and wallowing tonight and then starting tomorrow new.

Oh yeah, and my "raise." Fucking 2%. Thanks for the extra $500 a year, fuck mooks.

Good grief, Charlie Brown

2005-07-14T16:07:04Z

Saturday: I order a new computer from Dell for Mom and me. I got a great deal and, let's face it, my 1998 Compaq is shot to hell. It was time for a new computer. After I received confirmation of my order, I go out to the living room where Mom and Gramma are sitting, and I say "I've ordered us a new computer!".

Monday night: I get home after puppy-sitting and talk to Gramma. In the course of the conversation, I tell her that the new computer I bought will be shipped and arriving this week. Since she's the only one home during the day, she needed to know because she'll have to sign for it from UPS. She grunts a wordless acknowledgement to me.

Wednesday: Gramma calls Mom at Michelle and Paul's house to say that UPS has tried twice to deliver packages that have to be signed for but no one was home when they tried. (She was home - she was just in the basement or outside or refusing to answer the door.) Then she bitches because she'll have to "rearrange her schedule" on Thursday so that UPS can make the delivery between 10:30 and 2.

Thursday morning: I get a phone call from Mom who is absolutely livid. Gramma called her at Michelle and Paul's this morning and asked her to come over to the house while she finished some yard work in case the UPS guy was early. Mom packs up Macca (it's extremely taxing and difficult to drive with him as he constantly wants to sit on your lap as you drive) and goes to our house where Gramma finishes her 15-minutes of yard work and then asks Mom why she didn't tell her that we bought a new computer. Mom says that I told her, which is true, and Gramma just huffs. Then Gramma tells Mom that she can leave now and proceeds to go back outside in the back yard to clean the lawn mower. (Does anyone know what happens when UPS has tried 3 times to make a delivery that has to be signed for and are unsuccessful each time?)

What it boils down to is money. Gramma is pissed off because she thinks Mom and I have money that we're (a) hiding from her, (b) lying about or (c) mismanaging. But, dammit, it's MY MONEY. I'm the one who sits in this cubicle five days a week to earn it and if I want to use $20 a month to buy a new computer, then, dammit, I will!

janeausten @ 2005-07-14T10:16:00

2005-07-14T15:16:31Z

My desk is a disaster zone.

And I'm loving it.

janeausten @ 2005-07-14T08:51:00

2005-07-14T13:53:03Z

Mom and I watched Hotel Rwanda last night. Powerfully sad movie. And, after seeing it, I'm 100% in agreement with Jim when he told me that watching that movie would make me wonder what good the UN is. He couldn't be more right.

'An estimated 800,000 Rwandans have been killed in 100 days.'

Be a Lifesaver

2005-07-12T17:31:38Z

This is one of the families I help in my job. If you're able and interested, please help.

Gabby's Lifesavers

janeausten @ 2005-07-09T14:21:00

2005-07-09T19:28:48Z

Hey, gefiltebitch? Have you heard from Jess or anyone about how her surgery went? I'd've e-mailed you, but I don't have your address. Fill me in if you know, okay? Many, many thanks!

janeausten @ 2005-07-08T11:46:00

2005-07-08T16:48:04Z

I love you Jessa. You're in my thoughts and prayers and I hope everything goes smoothly. You are truly one of my best friends.

So much love for you.

Big Brother is Watching

2005-07-08T16:09:10Z

I work in an industrial park. Really, I do. The ground floor is still used as a warehouse and there are times when the entire building shakes and rumbles with the move of equipment. And there are trains that come into and out of the building. It's noisy and all that good stuff. But there are many other businesses in the office. Our business, for example, has the majority of the third floor and we had it completely gutted and rebuilt to be as lovely as it is today.

This morning, I arrived at the office and stopped off on the first floor to use the restroom since I didn't think I'd make it upstairs. And as I sat down, I looked up and, on the wall directly in front of me was a sign that read "BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING."

And I thought . . . is he enjoying the view?

O_O

janeausten @ 2005-07-08T09:29:00

2005-07-08T14:29:36Z

Lord God of the Nations, we are reminded of the uncertain world we live in by the bombings in London yesterday morning. These terrorist acts bring great sadness to our hearts and suffering to the victims of these explosions. We pray that you would extend your mighty hand and stem these acts of violence. Frustrate the plans of those who plot the deaths of innocent civilians. Save the lives of the injured. Comfort those who mourn. Be our rock when the world is shaking. In the name of our Savior who came into this world of death and uncertainty to give us life and security we offer this prayer. Amen.

janeausten @ 2005-07-06T10:29:00

2005-07-06T15:32:20Z

You Are 74% American

Most times you are proud to be an American.
Though sometimes the good ole US of A makes you cringe
Still, you know there's no place better suited to be your home.
You love your freedom and no one's going to take it away from you!

How American Are You?

What makes you happy?

2005-07-06T13:41:57Z

1. Falling in love.

2. Laughing so hard your face hurts.

3. A hot shower.

4. No lines at the supermarket

5. A special glance.

6. Getting mail

7. Taking a drive on a pretty road.

8. Hearing your favorite song on the radio.

9. Lying in bed listening to the rain outside.

10. Hot towels fresh out of the dryer.

11. Chocolate milkshake (or vanilla or strawberry!)

12. A bubble bath.

13. Giggling.

14. A good conversation.

15. The beach

16. Finding a 20 dollar bill in your coat from last winter.

17. Laughing at yourself.

18. Holding a newborn baby.

19. Midnight phone calls that last for hours.

20. Running through sprinklers.

21. Laughing for absolutely no reason at all.

22. Having someone tell you that you're beautiful.

23. Laughing at an inside joke.

24. Friends.

25. Accidentally overhearing someone say something nice about you.

26. Waking up and realizing you still have a few hours left to sleep.

27. Your first kiss (either the very first or with a new partner).

28. Making new friends or spending time with old ones.

29. Playing with a new puppy.

30. Having someone play with your hair.

31. Sweet dreams.

32. Hot chocolate.

33. Road trips with friends.

34. Swinging on swings.

35. Making eye contact with a cute stranger.

36. Making chocolate chip cookies.

37. Having your friends send you homemade cookies.

38. Holding hands with someone you care about.

39. Running into an old friend and realizing that some things (good or bad) never change.

40. Watching the expression on someone's face as they open a much desired present from you.

41. Watching the sunrise.

42. Getting out of bed every morning and being grateful for another beautiful day.

43. Knowing that somebody misses you.

44. Getting a hug from someone you care about deeply.

45. Knowing you've done the right thing, no matter what other people think.

janeausten @ 2005-07-05T09:00:00

2005-07-05T14:06:31Z

I had a friend in college named Laura who I have since lost touch with. We stayed in contact for about a year or two after I graduated, but then, it just seemed as though she dropped off the face of the earth. She always had a soft spot for being contacted. She told me once, shortly before we lost touch, that she was tired of "having to be the one who contacts her friends." She felt that she was always reaching out, always trying to set up some kind of get-together or some such thing, and she didn't like it. She wanted them to reach out to her, too. And maybe that's why we lost touch. Maybe the burden of reaching out to Laura had shifted permanently to my shoulders and I just didn't follow through. But, the point is, I know what she means. I know how she feels.

Maybe this is just hormones or tiredness talking or something, but, to a large extent, I feel like the friend who has to reach out. And if I don't, well, then I don't talk to or communicate with or see my friends. And let me say, speaking from experience, it sucks. It's hurtful. It feels like those people who you feel so close to and care so much about only remember you or talk to you when they have time. When you push yourself back in front of them and jump up and down shouting for a bit of their time and attention. Then, as my grandmother often says, the light bulb goes back on.

I don't know. I'm tired. I'm a little cranky at having to come back to work. But, still, I know how Laura felt. And it really sucks.

janeausten @ 2005-06-30T15:10:00

2005-06-30T20:48:30Z

Over the past few weeks, Sarah and Eric had been getting to know one another. There'd been casual lunches in his office that served as mini vacations in the midst of stressful days and weeks. There were romantic, candle-lit dinners at some of the most expensive restaurants in Scuro. Late night private movie screenings, Sunday morning coffee, midnight ice cream runs.

And, of course, the mystery of just who Eric was and how he knew so much about her. Most of the time Sarah didn't think about it, a trick that surprised even her. But it was always on Eric's mind. The communications from Sarah's mother were coming with greater frequency and Eric knew he wouldn't be able to put her off for much longer. She wanted answers, updates, action. And if she didn't get it from him, she'd quickly and easily replace Eric Finnegan with someone who would kill Sarah Nube.

But tonight was different. Today Sarah was embedded in her work, bent almost double over notebooks, papers and her keyboard, the light coming from her flat at two-thirty in the morning was one of the only lights on in the entire building. She barely looked up at the knock at her door. In fact, the first time, she didn't even hear it. Then she wondered just who in the world was knocking on her door at this time of night. Pencil tucked behind her ear, Sarah padded barefoot to the door and pulled it open.

"You don't check to see who it is first?" Eric asked, staring at her.

Sarah blinked and closed the door. "Who is it?"

Eric laughed in reply and she opened the door again. "What's up?"

"You're not going to ask me in?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry." Sarah stepped aside and admitted him, closing the door behind him. "so, what's up?" She barely acknowledged him, brushing past him to get back to work.

"Hey," he said softly, catching her arm as she passed. He pulled her back to him and stooped to kiss her.

As usual, Sarah found herself breathless from his kisses. "Hey yourself," she replied with a soft smile, pressing up on tip toe to kiss him again. The pencil fell from her ear and clattered to the floor as she lifted her arms around his neck.

Eric pulled back gently and looked into her eyes. "What're you doing up so late?"

"Working," she replied, her tone suddenly serious as she pulled out of his arms and bent to reclaim the pencil and head back to her desk.

Eric studied her. She sat perched on the edge of her chair as she consulted a notebook page before poising her fingers over the keyboard. Her hair was swept up into an unkempt pony tail and she was wearing a pair of worn and faded blue jeans with a grossly oversized tee-shirt. He couldn't help but smile. She was beautiful. A serious, concentrated expression on her face and features. Eric crept up behind her and gently rested his hands on her shoulders.

"Sarah," he said softly, half-heartedly attempting to get her attention.

A soft, distracted grunt of acknowledgement was his only reward.

Eric smiled, intent on getting her attention one way or another. His hands travelled slowly down the sides of her arms as he leaned forward, pressing kisses to the curve of her neck and shoulder. "Stop working, Sarah," he whispered and she paused.

"But I -" she began to protest, but Eric pulled the chair back, turning her to face him.

"No," he said, taking the pencil from her hand and tossing it without care onto the desk. "Stop working, Sarah." He knelt in front of her and let his hands cup her face as he kissed her again.

Sarah meekly protested, but quickly gave in. There was something different in this kiss. Something she hadn't felt from him before. His hand was moving down her side and sliding around her waist to pull her flush against him. She leaned into him and parted her lips, deepening the kiss. Eric's hands were moving again, this time finding their way under her shirt and moving upwards. He nudged her arms and tugged it off of her, lowering his mouth to her neck and chest. Sarah let her hands run through his hair and leaned against the back of the chair for stability.

It was strange, but Sarah didn't feel uncomfortable in front of Eric. She wouldn't have let any other lover do this to her. She didn't have the perfect body and, in fact, she didn't particularly fancy herself as attractive at all. But she had no doubt of Eric's desire for her and she found it so easy to let go in this moment.

"Eric?" she asked him softly, waiting until his eyes met hers to continue. "Stay tonight," she whispered, a little unsure. They hadn't spent a night together yet. Hadn't given in to desire or passion.

He wrapped her legs about his waist and kissed her, getting to his feet with her wrapped around him, raining kisses on his face. Sarah's heart was pounding and her body was rushing to feel him. She nuzzled his neck, biting her lip and, unable to resist any longer, rocked her hips against his in a slow grind. Eric stopped moving and she could hear the sharp intake of his breath.

"Sarah," his voice was gravely and deep. "You can't do that if you don't want me to loose my mind." He backed her up against a wall and was trying to catch his breath, looking at her, noticing the glow in her cheeks, the darkness of her usually bright eyes.

Held secure in his grip, Sarah planted her hands on his shoulders and rolled against him again - deeper, harder, slower this time, biting down hard on her lip as the shocks of sensation ran through her. Eric couldn't stop himself; he ground himself hard against her and she gasped, her fingers pressing into his shoulders. Her breaths came in heavy drafts as she pulled recklessly at his shirt to get it off of him. She couldn't keep up with were Eric's hands were roaming; Sarah only knew that she wanted to feel him, taste him, have him now.

"Hurry," she prodded, pleading.

"But I want - " he started to protest. Wanting this moment, this first time, to last, to be special.

"Eric," she half growled, half yelled his name, bucking hard against his hips, feeling his body respond the way she wanted, even if some part of his mind wanted this to move slowly. "Later," she gasped, kissing him hard and deep. "For now, hurry," she pleaded again against his mouth.

Eric lifted her, quickly finding the way to her bedroom and collapsing on top of her, kissing her hungrily, delving deep into her mouth, then down her neck and across her collar bone. Sarah reached at his waist, pushing at his slacks just as he was tugging at her jeans.

Sarah's hand tangled in his hair as he kissed a path up the side of her neck, licking at her ear lobe and sinking into her. Her body arched to his, wanting this so badly she could barely remember to breathe. Everything felt perfect to Sarah. The way he held her, kissed her, moved inside of her, brought her to such sweet and complete bliss.

And the way he held her in his arms, nuzzling her, exploring her skin, her body, her eyes, before slowly, sweetly making love to her all over again.

janeausten @ 2005-06-28T14:32:00

2005-06-28T19:35:47Z

And so, last night, I ventured back into the world of dating and relationships. To be honest, I tried to talk myself out of going for much of the day. But I simply couldn't come up with a good excuse not to go and, frankly, I'm glad I went. Jim (the date) and I have been e-mailing one another for about a month and a half and we finally met up at Barnes & Noble last night. We both showed up early and, before we realized it, we had been talking for three hours. He's very, very funny and intelligent and easy to talk to. And I like him. I think he likes me because he was amazed at how quickly the time passed especially for a guy with a short attention span, or so he said. That and he was the one who suggested "doing this again sometime, with some kind of structured activities or events," so I'm taking that as a good sign.

Work is work.

The end.

Prayer and Paul Harvey

2005-06-28T13:53:02Z

"I don't believe in Santa Claus, but I'm not going to sue somebody for singing a Ho-Ho-Ho song in December. I don't agree with Darwin, but I didn't go out and hire a lawyer when my high school teacher taught his theory of evolution.

Life, liberty or your pursuit of happiness will not be endangered because someone says a 30-second prayer before a football game.

So what's the big deal? It's not like somebody is up there reading the entire book of Acts. They're just talking to a God they believe in and asking him to grant safety to the players on the field and the fans going home from the game.

"But it's a Christian prayer," some will argue.

Yes, and this is the United States of America, a country founded on Christian principles. According to our very own phone book, Christian churches outnumber all others better than 200-to-1. So what would you expect - somebody chanting Hare Krishna?

If I went to a football game in Jerusalem, I would expect to hear a Jewish prayer.

If I went to a soccer game in Baghdad, I would expect to hear a Muslim prayer.

If I went to a ping pong match in China, I would expect to hear someone pray to Buddha.

And I wouldn't be offended. It wouldn't bother me one bit. When in Rome . . .

"But what about the atheists?" is another argument.

What about them? Nobody is asking them to be baptized. We're not going to pass the collection plate. Just humor us for 30 seconds. If that's asking too much, bring a Walkman or a pair of ear plugs. Go to the bathroom. Visit the concession stand. Call your lawyer!

Unfortunately, one or two will make that call. One or two will tell thousands what they can and cannot do. I don't think a short prayer at a football game is going to shake the world's foundations.

Christians are just sick and tired of turning the other cheek while our courts strip us of all our rights. Our parents and grandparents taught us to pray before eating; to pray before we go to sleep.

Our Bible tells us to pray without ceasing. Now a handful of people and their lawyers are telling us to cease praying.

God, help us.

And if that last sentence offends you, well . . .just sue me.

The silent majority has been silent too long. It's time we let that one or two who scream loud enough to be heard . . . that the vast majority don't care what they want. It is time the majority rules! It's time we tell them, you don't have to pray; you don't have to say the pledge of allegiance; you don't have to believe in God or attend services that honor Him. That is your right, and we will honor your
right. But by golly, you are no longer going to take our rights away. We are fighting back . . . and we WILL WIN!

God bless us one and all . . . especially those who denounce Him. God bless America, despite all her faults. She is still the greatest nation of all.

God bless our service men who are fighting to protect our right to pray and worship God.

May 2005 be the year the silent majority is heard and we put God back as the foundation of our families and institutions.

Keep looking up."

And to that I say AMEN!

Lost, Gregory Maguire

2005-06-27T18:23:12Z

I can never quite tell how I feel about Gregory Maguire or his books. I've read three of them now, Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, Wicked and Lost, which I just finished now. One would assume that I enjoy the books and the author if I keep reading them, but, on the other hand, they are somewhat tedious to get through. Maguire is like Tolstoy - he supposedly writes for the masses, but it's hard to decipher the syntax and grammar and vocabulary much of the time.

Lost was the most funny of the three books I've read, probably because it's set in modern times, as opposed to the land of Oz or the 16th Century. So I did laugh and I found portions of the book to be quite witty and engaging. And the plot was interesting - things developed slowly, but the last 100 pages were really, well, gripping. But Maguire puts in a lot of detail and snooty observations that are entirely uneccesary, which makes reading the book frustrating at times. Nevertheless, there are some really great plot twists.

I'll give it a 3 out of 5.

janeausten @ 2005-06-27T10:41:00

2005-06-27T15:43:51Z

It gives me such a warm, comforting feeling to know that my co-workers and supervisors care about my health and well-being.

Me (talking to Marilyn): Good morning! How're you? Did you have a nice weekend? *sitting down with effort and suppressing a yelp*
Marilyn: I'm sore, but I don't know why. How're you?
Me: Sore. *laughing* But I do know why. I re-injured my back.
Marilyn: Does this mean you'll be walking around here in a daze again this week?

Ahhh, such concern! I bet you're all jealous of my situation.

for Jessa

2005-06-27T14:36:12Z

"I am God, the God of your father," he said. "Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for I will make you into a great nation there." (Genesis 46:3)

Has your heart ever been filled with fear and great distress? If you have ever waited in a hospital bed the night before a serious surgery or spent a fretful night wondering where your child was, perhaps you have known such fear. Fear often troubles our hearts when we do not know the future.

Jacob had known fear and great distress before. Fear had caused him to divide his household into two groups as his brother, Esau, had approached with four hundred men. Would Esau still be angry and want to kill him for stealing his birthright?

Jacob also had known the great sorrow a parent feels over the loss of a child. He had thought his beloved Joseph had died more than two decades before.

Jacob could easily look back and see how the eternal Lord had guided and protected him. When he had faced his brother with a trembling heart, Esau had graciously received him. When his heart had doubted the words of his sons, the carts and the comforting words that Joseph had sent had reassured him that his son was alive. Having seen all these blessings of God, could this great patriarch still have fear in his heart?

Every human being is born with a sinful heart that easily gives in to fear, and Jacob was no exception. So God spoke to him: "I am God, the God of your father. . . . Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for I will make you into a great nation there." The same God who had guided him throughout his life would not abandon him now. Whatever fear troubled the heart of Jacob was driven away with the comforting words of God, "Do not be afraid."

You and I can look back over our lives and see how God has blessed us. But that doesn't mean that our hearts cannot faint from fear today or in the future. Even the patriarch Jacob needed the constant reassurance from God that he did not need to be afraid. So whenever our hearts are touched by fear, the same God who spoke to Jacob's heart speaks these comforting words to our hearts as well, "Do not be afraid."