Counting our Chickens

I decided we needed a date so last night we went to check out The Green Mesquite, a barbeque place in Austin that had been on Diners, Drive-ins and Dives, and also sold pulled pork barbeque.  I'd been craving pork so off we went, to find this place we had never found before.  After circling the block four times, Jeremy finally found a parking place to pull into -- I was SO glad he was driving and not me as he can parallel park and I'm not so sure I can.  Into the tiny place we went and right back out the back door to their outdoor eating area where live music was blaring so loud it was hard to have a conversation.  As Jeremy said, "For cow people, it wasn't bad."  It will at least hold me until I can get some really good barbeque in Memphis in a few weeks.
While we were talking over the music, our conversation drifted to various things like baseball, politics, funny stories from work, and then to the fact that our DVD player has been messing up and Jeremy wants a Blue-ray.  I think working at an electronics store has spoiled him for life to all things simple when it comes to electronics.  I pointed out that I desperately need new tires and brakes on my car and he needs to have his checked because more often than not it sounds like it isn't going to start. . . and it's getting worse.  He pointed out that he knew all that, but . . .

Well, let me give you some back story.  We got a letter in the mail several weeks ago from our life insurance company telling us that they were being taken to court and that if that person won, everyone who had a policy with them would get a pay out.  I don't know if we'll get anything or really how much even though Jeremy said it could be up to $12,000.  I'm really honestly not holding my breath for it.

He is.

He keeps slipping into conversation, "when we get that check we can . . ."  I keep pointing out that he's counting our chickens before they hatch.  He says he knows, but wouldn't it be nice if . . .

Yes, it would.

Rain

I asked Jeremy last night as we were preparing for sleep on the night of our sixth anniversary, "Do you sometimes feel that we pray for rain but leave the umbrella at home?"

I know my faith has grown a lot over the last year.  Over the last two years.  Over the last three years.

Three years ago in August was when we started trying to get pregnant.

Two years ago we found out I had PCOS.

One year ago we found out the next step was fertility treatments -- and we found out Jeremy had lost the job he loved.

They always say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.  And I do feel stronger.  I just wonder if my faith isn't quite strong enough.  Am I acting like I believe God will give my husband a teaching job for this fall?  Am I acting like I will get pregnant?  I'm praying for those things all the time.  So, as I pray for rain, do I take my umbrella with me like it's actually going to happen . . . or am I leaving it at home because I don't really believe God listens?

Just a thought.

Priorities

One of the days of camp training, our manager led us in an activity to help us figure out our priorities.  He asked us to take four small pieces of paper and write our top priorities, one on each piece.  Then, he said, "Something bad has happened and you just lost whatever you wrote down as number four."  He continued in this way until he told us we had lost all four things we had written down.  Unfortunately for him, this activity didn't really work for me.  You see, God is my top priority, so when he said that  my top priority had been lost, I knew it wasn't true.  No matter what happens in my life, God is a constant.  I can't lose Him.  It made me feel good to know that as I thought about it, it felt true.  God is number one in my life.  Just in case you want to know, Jeremy was number two and friends/family were number three.  I couldn't really think of a number four.  The whole point of the activity was to make sure we knew what really mattered.  I do.

On another note, as a follow up to a post from several weeks ago about my co-worker who thought she was pregnant, she's not.  She was telling us that she felt so sad even though she hadn't really wanted kids to begin with.  As she had started to accept the possibility of being pregnant, she had come to terms with it.  She said her husband just couldn't understand why she was crying.  I could.  I pointed out that I could empathize with her -- she had just gotten a bit of a taste of what I've been going through for the last three years.  I do feel bad for her.  Maybe we're more on a level playing ground now and can get along better as we work together another year.