Tomorrow

Tomorrow is a very special day. My sweet, precious, lovie (ok... stoic, tough, rifleman) husband and I will celebrate our 9th wedding anniversary tomorrow. 11 years ago (July 31st) was our first date. We were high school sweet hearts. Although we went to junior high and high school together, we didn't really meet until we were both interns at the local fire department during high school. Yes, hubby and I both had aspirations of fire careers, and even went off to college and took fire science courses together. The Lord has had different plans for us though. Sometimes it's been difficult, sometimes trying and ridiculously hard. We've tried to give up a few times but that too was not in His plans. I believe we are coming out the other side of these tough times. Our meager 9 years together has prepared our hearts in ways we didn't know possible. Looking back to the early days, everything is clear now. God's path cultured and scored our lives so that we could hold tightly to Him and to each other for the impossible feats we were about to endure. We have been so blessed.

Too Soon

I spoke (blogged) too soon about not being worried "per se." I am now worried. Not that my worry does anyone or anything any good. I hate the unknown. Give me a crappy life or a really lame set of cards to play in life and I'll scrape by--I'll manage. But NOT knowing what I'm dealing with (ie-what will happen in the next 2+ weeks) is about to make me insane. I already have trouble sleeping. I am always fatigued. I can nap during the day, but try not to. At night though, even if I'm exhausted my brain just keeps trekking....and I say to myself, "Self: Please just shut up and go to sleep already." That rarely does the trick though. I got myself several good books to take with me up there while I am just sitting, waiting. Daddy said he'll come stay with me the first couple nights so I don't have to be alone. He has no idea how much that means to me. Dad and I have been together in many a waiting room, just waiting. Not wanting to talk, just needing to be.... not alone.

The Bebes

Do I talk about my kids enough? I always swore that I would never be that parent who cornered a friend with an accordion of kid pictures out of my wallet...and I never have. But I still talk about my kids far more often than I'm sure any normal person wants to hear. So be it. I like my kids. They keep me on my toes, keep my blood pumping. Although sometimes I feel like this:

Big bebe is at Grandma's. She's been home a week from camp and has spent 5 nights at Gram's. She's very much enjoying being a princess bebe up there. It's a slower pace than our house. She's getting very independent too, which is good. For a long time she was very timid and quiet. She's finally coming out of that shell a bit. She's making fairy houses with sticks and strings and fabric and anything else artsy she can get her hands on.

Middle bebe is quite the opposite. She's a thug. A big beautiful brute of a child, with the best tanned skin and bright blue eyes. She's going to be a looker for sure. She told me today she has another loose tooth (this would be the 7th or so in the last 3-4 months.) Great. She wiggles it for me and yes it's wiggly, but maybe has a couple days until it's good and ready to come out. I watch her walk in to the bathroom and try and yank it out. It's doesn't come out all the way and now there's blood everywhere. Gross. I cover my eyes and tell her she's on her own. As I'm walking away I also tell her that she better not ever get hurt because mommy can't deal with blood or guts. Does that make me a bad parent? Who'd think that my DREAM job is to be a nurse and work on a medi-vac? Maybe I should rethink that dream.

Bitty bebe is now a biter. She likes to sharpen her fancy new teeth on my collar bone, the edge of her crib, Gerber biter biscuits, her sisters, and now her bottles. I know we're not supposed to put babies to bed with a bottle, but some things just happen anyhow. Like this one. Now I'm really a bad parent. I'll get over it. So bitty bebe bites her baba so that the WHOLE BOTTLE leaks all over her bed. Then she'll whine because she's sitting in a puddle in the middle of her crib. Lovely. So when I make her a new baba I only put 2 ounces in (thinking I'm smart and going to out-wit this bebe.) I am wrong. Now she bites the baba but instead of drinking it she holds it upside down and WATCHES it ALL leak out. Who's child is this????

And why do they all have to be so darn cute?

Batta-Bing and Good Memories

And the race is on.... met with Hubby's neurosurgeon today. The MRI was gnarly, to say the least. Poor Hubby's pain control has been almost nonexistent. He's always in pain and now we know why. Six weeks after the initial surgery one would expect significant improvement. Hubby's only gotten worse and we're going on month 10. The MRI today showed that one of the screws in his back has caused a bone spur....and that bone spur is spurring right into a nerve. Batta-Bing! The MRI also shows no fusion of L5-S1. This is not Hubby's back, but is very similar: Look closely at L5-S1 as compared to the other areas. It is dark which indicates a diseased disc. In Hubby's case there is a cadaver bone acting as the new disc, but it hasn't fused together yet.He'll be admitted to Stanford in a week and half--Monday the 4th. Hubby and I had lots of questions. The last surgery and recovery was SUCH a nightmare, we needed to be SURE this was the right thing to do. Hubby asked his neurosurgeon, Dr Cecil Chang many things. And then he asked, "Is it going to work this time?" And Dr Chang said, "You and I will do the very best we can do. And the rest is up to Him." And he pointed up towards heaven. Oh I think I love this little old doctor man even more. Isn't he cute? In addition to being VERY smart of course, Cute-ness is second.So then Hubby got teary, which meant as soon as I caught onto that, then I was getting teary too. We're quite the pair.

This is what they'll do to Hubby's back:

Now since I'm posting about Stanford, I want to share a little love story with you. Love as in between people and their friends, love between a Savior and the sick. A little background first: My mom and dad were both raised in strict catholic households. Dad grew up in Seminary at St. Joseph's, and mom ended up at Dominican College. She was going to be a nun, and he a priest. Hmmm...things didn't end up that way, but that's where their roots were planted in any case.

Mom and dad both withdrew from the active church life sometime before I was born. I wasn't raised in any church because of this, but they never spoke badly of church or faith or God. Something must have happened, but to this day I still don't know what it was. I figure if they wanted me to know they would have told me by now.

So fast forward several years and mom is getting ready for her bone marrow transplant in 2000. It will be done at Stanford. She'll be in the hospital for at least 6 weeks after the transplant, but then she'll need to live the next several months within 5 minutes of Stanford. They looked for a place to rent, but it needed to have specific accommodations. Mom's immune system would be so weakened that they would need to be able to easily control the air flow, air quality, have a stove, etc. And it needed to be a very clean place. They eventually did find a little place, everything was set, and then the owners decided they couldn't rent it after all. This was just a week or two before mom's transplant. No pressure or anything.

Mom had a dream that night that dad called some of his old seminary buddies to see if they had any suggestions. St Joseph's burnt to the ground ( I think, either that or it fell down during the 89 earthquake--can't remember) and was never rebuilt. So all St Joseph's alumni and such were now part of the bigger seminary at St Patrick's in Menlo Park, which is very near to Stanford. So this wasn't a long shot at all, they might very well have some good ideas.

So dad called up an old seminary fellow, who happens to be the president at St Patrick's now. Told him the story of what's going on with mom, and what they are looking for. Oh and the Lord is GOOD and powerful and tad bit sneaky! ( I like it!) Turns out some of the Priests were on sabbatical for an extended period of time. The whole west wing of St Patrick's was un-occupied. (Keep in mind dad was looking for a suggestion, not an answer) They would be happy to offer mom and dad one of the living suites for as long as they needed it, rent free of course. Only problem was that although it was a large suite, there was only a kitchenette. Mom needed a stove, because ALL of her food and liquids needed to be boiled for a lengthy period of time so to keep pesky little germs away. But there was the seminary kitchen that was staffed with the most precious little nuns who cooked all the meals for priests and crew, they'd be happy to accommodate mom any way she needed. I mean really---if you have to trust some earthly body to wash and boil your veggies...wouldn't you like it to be a sweet little nun???

And so that's what they did. And it was perfect and wonderful and so soothing for them to be there....for all of the physical things of course, but also mentally and spiritually be nurtured there surrounded by God and some of his most devoted followers. St Patrick's also has a library. Dad was able to spend MANY hours there when he needed to just escape. Once mom was well enough to go outside (with her BIG MIGHTY mask on) she hung out with the gardeners and the landscaper. Mama's soul was always in the garden. Here's some pics of St Patrick's. Isn't it a beauty? I told mom it looked like she was living in a castle:

Somewhere I have a some pictures of Mama there. One when all her hair fell out. She didn't want her face in the picture, but wanted a picture of her bald head. My uncle was able to take a silhouette of her and it is breath taking. And beautiful. Another one she is standing next to an angel statue, and she held her breath and took off her mask and put it on the angel. It's so cute. I have to figure out how to scan those pics into my computer and then I'm going to post them.

Oh it's good for me to have good memories of Mama, and good memories of Stanford, fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, and this sweet story that reaffirms that He can and will see us through anything, and make it so much better than we could have ever imagined.

MRI for Two, With a Side of Fear?

My MRI came back fine. I was hoping they wouldn't find anything extra or anything missing in my noggin. Lucky me, it's all just as it should be. The lab test though came back particularly skewed. Interesting. I think we're onto something here. New medicine, and more tests to come....

Hubby was at Stanford yesterday, and then had his MRI this morning. Before he even left the area, he was scheduled for a consult with his neurosurgeon tomorrow morning. Yikes. Crap. Shooooooot. The quickness and somewhat urgent nature of the appointment has me anxious. I'll be going up there with him tomorrow. This appointment could very well turn into a pre-op appointment and not just a consult. I think they are going to move on this ASAP.

Now my wheels are turning. I'm not worried per se. But more anxious and wondering how everything is going to play out. My boss knows that surgery will be soon, so that's good and work will be ok. I can keep tabs on things from afar, and I've saved up PTO. My bebes will probably be mostly at Grandma and Grandpy's, but maybe shuffled around a little amongst friends and Mama Hen's too. The big bebes will be ok, but what about bitty bebe? I think I'll probably have to get a hotel up there near the hospital. I just won't have the energy to drive that far away each day to get there. Or maybe I could bring bitty bebe with me and pawn her off to family who live closer to the hospital. Hmmmm..... His last surgery he was in-patient for 7 days. I anticipate this one will be the same, if not a bit longer. I had really hoped we'd get a small vacation in before all this. But then, I'm more of a home-body anyhow.

The real estate these days is really the buyers market. We'd also hoped to get into a home soon, and not just be renting. I think that too will need to be put off. I just can't fathom trying to do any of the looking, paperwork, or moving while he's laid up after the surgery. Maybe we'll get lucky and prices will continue to drop. Wouldn't that be nice? I don't even want to look at what's on the market, 'cause then I start to get attached and get my hopes up. Can't be doing that.

Hubby hooked up my i-pod to my car stereo. Very cool. Just short of driving myself insane with all the unknowns right now, I sang my little heart out in the car today while driving home from work. Good music, nice and loud, not a care in the world.....and now I've lost my voice. Hahaha. "Oh Meg, are you sick? You don't sound so great." To which I reply, "No just sang at the top of my lungs to beat them fears back into submission in this worry-wart head of mine. Thanks for asking!"

Ooohh my sassiness is back with a vengeance!

Whoa Cowboy!

Wow. I am tired but happy. That's a combo I'll gladly take. So tired, I'll let the pictures explain the majority of it all....

First...Hubby and I went and saw Jefferson Starship play Friday night. Not all of the original members, of course, but some of them and some new ones. They put on a great show in a small local venue. I LOVE live music. Love Love LOVE. Didn't get any pics of the band though, sorry....

Picked up Big bebe from camp today. She was all smiles and happy grime. Mmmmm....love it. Her pillow, though sent to camp white, came back brown-paper-bag brown.

Went to the Rodeo today. SOOOO much fun. Left bitty bebe with Grandma. It was an all day event, and never a dull moment. Hubby and I got hats today too--something we've wanted for a while. And when is a more appropriate time than a rodeo to get them??

The girls and I liked the barrel racing the most, and the kids riding the sheep a close second. Notice the glasses in this pic (my favorite, by the way.) I found it was too crowded on my face to wear the new hat and the glasses. Just before we left, I went to use the restroom. That restroom I'm afraid is the final resting place of those beloved glasses. I abandoned them absentmindedly on the top of the toilet paper dispenser. I don't think they'll be there if I return. =(

My dad came too. This was the pattern of the shirt he wore. Whoa. Really. Whoa. He made a special trip, about an hour away, to find and purchase this lovely shirt. Although it is of cowboy style and cut, the colors are very much channeling the 70's. LOUDLY!

Hubby should have been born on a farm 100 years ago. It's just his element. The last part was the bull fights. EEEK! Not my favorite, but absolutely fascinating...and SCARY! (Minor disclosure here: one man, a clown, in the rodeo did get gored and got a broken leg during this part. Really he could have died. Although I would never wish any ill will on anyone, there is some small part of me that thinks "Go Bulls!")

But I must say the most moving part of the day was before the final event. Some of the cowboys and clowns gathered in the middle of the arena, bent down, and said a prayer together. Nothing quick or fancy. It was a good long 2-3 minutes. I love this delicate yet not subtle outward expression of faith. AMEN!

CoGro Broken Me

I steam cleaned the living room and dining room rugs this evening. Fun! No really...it's like magic. With the number of little feet and visiting little feet that trek through this house, watching those stains just be erased is a BEAUTIFUL sight. Ahhhhhh....

Hubby is on the mend at least for the time being. He's had a ridiculously rough week, but think he's going to pull through on this round just fine now. I am breathing again.

And with my worried self temporarily put on the back burner, my silly self is begging for attention. I have a group of friends that I meet with, and our unofficial name for this meeting time/group is 'covenant group.' I think it would be really cool to come up with a snazzy group name. Kind of in the same light as Brangelina. So similarly we could be CoGro. But that's kind of boring. Maybe we could take the first letters of our names and make it spell something witty? But we're a group of consonants and no vowels. That's too bad. We should recruit a vowel person! Are you with me?!?!? No? Fine. BMKN and sometimes J and no more C? That's still boring. Eerily if you take the first 2 letters of the main 4 folks' names it would spell BROKEN ME. Eerie. Especially given my recent blog topics. Ok.... so maybe that's a bad idea, perhaps I need to go a different route. I remember when I was 5 and another Meg and I had a club called the True Blue Tree Club. We thought we were really something special. And we were. Special. For sure. Ok.... I gotta keep thinking on this one.

In closing, I'll tell you that I had spinach dip, bread, coconut and pineapple juice, and heath bar ice cream for dinner. I LOVED it. Although now that it's all mixed up together in my belly, I'm not sure that was a wise combo. Bitty bebe just got her 5th tooth. Hubby and middle bebe are on a "date night" tonight and went to see a movie. So cute. I even ironed her little clothes. She and hubby are going fishing tomorrow. He asked if I wanted to come too. I do like the IDEA of fishing and relaxing, but the whole fish thing itself kind of ruins it for me. I am anxiously awaiting the results of my MRI. Hubby is back up to Stanford tomorrow, before fishing, one step closer. I worked on an excel spreadsheet at work today for HOURS. Stupid. Who would send $1M and not attach backup as how to allocate the funds? The government. That's who. Drive me insane! So I am tired, and have a fairly good shot at getting a good night's sleep tonight.... Yay me! Onward.....

Like Father Like.....

I cannot begin to recount the last 24 hours. It's something out of a horror flick, and each moment I'm praying it's all a nightmare and I'm about to wake up. Hasn't happened yet. Today is also dear hubby's birthday. I attempted to be funny this morning and said to him, "Happy birthday Lovie. Of all my husbands YOU are my favorite!" I got a half smile out of him for that. Middle bebe baked daddy a cake. She was so proud of herself and it came out quite nicely too. I did remember to get his birthday presents a couple weeks ago, but forgot to get wrapping paper. So his presents were pleasantly femininely wrapped in yellow girlie flower paper. But to top things off HE then comes strutting down the hallway nekid as a jaybird. Crap... he really has lost his mind "What are you doing?" Now we get the full smile from him and he says, "It's my birthday, thought I'd put on my birthday suit." Ya know, they say you'll marry someone like your father. Who knew the trait they'd have most in common was this?

Dirt, Camp and Crappy Keys

Picked up Middle bebe from camp...this is what she looked like. I said "please tell me you took at least one shower?" and she giggled, "yup, two." Well apparently God made dirt and dirt don't hurt. Talk about ring around the tub when she was done with her bath after that.

Then dropped off of Big bebe for her camp this after noon. After a few snafus she did get there. Can you tell she LOVES it when middle bebe insists on being in the picture too? DRAMA.

This little gadget: which some refer to as a key, has made my life hell today. HELL. So NOT feeling it. I love that I have a car that runs, has air conditioning, windows that work, and I am good about taking it in for tune ups and oil changes. Long forgotten are the times of old crappy cars that would poop out and hubby would jimmy it this way and that and it would run again. No such luck with these new fangled cars and their electronic computer crap. This only delayed what, 3 things today? A funeral, getting Big bebe to camp, and meeting with a group of friends tonight. Gimme a break!!! I wonder if it could have anything to do with this?

Family Pictures

Oh dear. Things are getting messy. I think I'm losing him. Just a little bit more every day. Oh my. I want to grow old with him and sit on the front porch sipping iced tea and watch the sunset. I knew when I was a wee-child that I wanted kids. I didn't know it would happen so soon after high school. I never imagined that I would marry my high school sweetheart. It never crossed my mind that momma would die. My family picture has always been different than what I have anticipated. So with a very meager attempt to smile here are some "pictures" of hubby and me. Just as we should be:Together....

Albeit not the norm, or fancy, or anything spectacular. But just as we are for the most part: simple, silly, genuine, and together.

Scattered

I am scattered today. I almost peed my pants at work today because I was laughing so hard. I think it actually made a scene. Oh well. I couldn't help it. I did keep from peeing my pants, but surely laughed entirely too loud for a quiet, efficient business office. If I could only blog about what made me laugh...but I dare not. It's totally inappropriate. For shame!

My broken finger's splint now sports a sassy little soccer player on it. Really dressed things up a bit. I mean, if you have to have a broken finger, why not double the fun with a finger puppet? Right!?!?!?

Stopped by dad's today. When I pulled up I could see him in the kitchen window. I took a minute to make a phone call, and then went to go inside. The door was locked. Odd. I knocked. No answer. Usually dad will open the door before I even get out of the car. Not this time. I went and got the hide-a-key (shhhh it's a secret) and let myself in. Dad had been busy. He had ALL the fans going in the house and 2 new HUGE air conditioner thingies. It was like walking into a wind tunnel--really. I called "Daddy?" and he answered... "I'll be right there." A few moments later he appears in the hallway, wearing just his shorts. Cute. I said "are you hot" meaning all the fans. And he says "Yeah, I was doing paperwork at the kitchen table naked, but thought I'd put pants on now." Thanks for the visual dad. He kills me.

I saw this cartoon today and I was totally reminded of hubby. The effort's always there 110%, but sometimes things still don't go his way.
(Disregard bad grammar and inappropriate apostrophe.) It's still funny.

Ask and You Shall Receive

I think my migraine is sitting out there, just on the horizon....watching my every move...waiting. So I'm feeling a little discombobulated. (Yes that's a word. My momma said so. I think she made it up herself which is kinda fun.)So this blog posting may be a bit choppy. But so be it.

My fears about hubby are back. Oh and how I love him so the fear just seems to be eating me alive. He's got PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder.) It's not from war or combat, but from some other closer to home things that have happened. He's also a volunteer fireman here in our little town, a job that he LOVES. But being in a small town means that more often than not, our firemen are likely to run calls on people they know. He's been on self-inflicted gunshot wounds to the head of a high school buddy of his. Worked CPR on a dying old man, while his childhood teacher sat peering over his shoulder crying, pleading for him to not give up. He's worked fully involved house fires that burnt everyone inside, people we had had lunch with the day before. He's been on motorcycle accidents which are some of the worst. Last summer it all started to catch up with him though. In three weeks, he ran three calls, all were vehicle accidents, all three people died, and he knew each one of them. One was of these was a young girl L. L was a girlfriend of a fellow fireman. L was different and the beauty of her soul was captivating. She had just BEAT brain cancer. BEAT it. She was hit by a drunk driver as she was walking home from her boyfriend's house. Hubby was the one who found her...down at the bottom of the ravine, with a deep laceration from under her ribs to her hip bone. He rolled her over so he could carry her back up to the road. He found 2 things: one that she was dead, and two that he knew her. When we went to her funeral, the memory card they handed out had her picture on it. In that picture she was wearing the same sweatshirt she was wearing when she was killed. Hubby hasn't been the same since. So the PTSD comes in waves and is more prevalent during other stressful times, and lack of sleep. I got a call on Thursday from someone who had seen him and they said that hubby "was not good." I booked it home. He'd had a panic attack, and his panic attacks are frightful. That was Thursday, today is Sunday and he's ok today. I know that he's worried about his surgery coming up. Mentally I don't know that he will make it. Either to the surgery or out of the surgery. =(

Friday was middle bebe's birthday. She's a fire cracker baby. She got to ride in the parade and eat pancakes at the fire house. Uncle J took her swimming. (4th of July is difficult for me for a few specific reasons. Oddly enough each of my bebe's birthdays is either on the anniversary day of a death of someone, or is directly related to a death. More on this in another post....) Saturday we had some little friends over to Petroglyph for some painting and sandwiches and cupcakes. The rest of Saturday was spent packing to send middle bebe to camp on Sunday. It was go go go. Here's a picture of bitty bebe on the 4th. Isn't she cute?
We made it to church today and parts were good, other parts not so much. I was though particularly moved by the closing song. Make me, mold me, fill me, use me. I give my life to the potter's hand. Plus it's a very pretty song. Make me, break me is what I was praying. I so badly want to be in control. I know I need to be broken and knit back together. I was feeling very good about this openness with God. I did not mean for him to take it literally though. (Is he up there just laughing at me?) I went to get bitty bebe from the nursery at church. As I walked in I was struck with how cute she was and I was in awe. Then I was struck by the door that was closing whether I wanted it to or not. Right on my knuckle. YEEEOOOWWWWW! Flipping finger. That's what my recent cursing like a sailor self said in my head. But it wasn't my flipping finger, actually, it was my pointer finger. It caught right on the part of the door where the locking part sticks out to latch. So. Moral of this story. Ask God to break you and he'll break your finger. Ok, so maybe not exactly like that, but come on. My finger is broken. And that is LAME.


Middle bebe (right) and her best friend Little B made it to camp this afternoon just fine. They were SO excited. Next week big bebe is going. Next year I've got to plan this better and send them the same week. Oh that would be a beautiful sanity rescuing week.

On a side note, cause life likes to pull a quick one-two once and a while. Think good thought for me if you would. Prayers would be appreciated. I go in this Friday for my own MRI. 2 things actually that both warrant an MRI. So they'll check 'em out at the same time.

I'm getting to bed early tonight. Hoping that migraine doesn't creep any closer. Hoping I'll be a nicer more level headed person in the morning when I wake up. Praying that peace and rest and resolve find a happy little home in my soul tonight.

Present

I like people. And I like that people are different and unique. I not only like, but I am genuinely interested in and respectful of people who are raised differently that I have been. I like to hear people's stories and have my eyes opened to a whole new perspective. It keeps my thinker thinking, my wheels turning, and I appreciate it and am so thankful that God made us individuals. I am amazed at the creativity and glory and joy that went into making each person.

I am also amazed that my views of a person can change so quickly. I make every effort to think of their alternate actions as being bad actions, but that that doesn't make them a bad person. The effort is there but I am failing at believing it...more and more often.

I can deal with and enjoy a wide variety of people. I don't need them to be just like me. But I am FLOORED when there is a general oblivion to life and to feelings. I don't think everyone needs to agree, but why do people have to be SO disrespectful? I believe strongly that it is imperative to live in the moment. TO BE PRESENT. I think our souls are already very vulnerable, and to not be aware, presents an entirely new avenue of evil to reside and make its way in.

To me what this means is don't be drunk, don't do drugs, don't seek any forms of mind altering behavior. It also means to me that we need to know our audience. And yes, it should be to our audience of One. But to me we are all children of God and if we purposely disregard the thoughts and feelings of those around us, then we are not honoring our audience of One. If we are oblivious to the life and needs of our fellow Christians, what are we being oblivious for? To keep our eyes on God? Does God want us to be oblivious? I don't think so. I believe we are called to be present and nurturing and obedient.

My struggle comes when I feel someone has intentionally stepped over the humane, respectful boundary. I don't know how to deal with them.

A friend of mine, I believe, has made a horrible choice, and her child was unfairly put right in the middle of it. She was oblivious to those around her and has severely wounded some relationships, including innocent, fragile child bystanders. It makes me sick. She may be oblivious to the outside world, but let me tell you, the world has a perfectly clear picture of her now.

I went to the movies with some friends for a girl's night out. There were 5 of us and we sat up near the front of the theatre. There was a homeless man seated just behind us. I didn't mind. I thought how nice for him to be able to get to take a break and see a movie. He quickly fell asleep and started snoring. This was annoying but I tried to remember that this is probably the most restful sleep he's had in a long time. THEN we hear what sounds like a soda spilling. Hmmm... no, turn around and this man is so drunk and has his peter out and is peeing all over himself and the seats around him. Seriously?

I work so hard to keep in the right mindset and be accepting and encouraging, welcoming and understanding of all people in all walks of life. And here are two totally different circumstances in the last 4 days that have me ready to throw in the towel. I do pray continuously that the Lord would have me know His will and that he would reveal, even a small portion of what I need to do, or what I need to learn in these situations. These are heavy on my heart. Like heavy HEAVY. I don't know what else to do. So I pray pray pray......