I have been through a dark storm at my job and have questioned often why God would lead me to such a place once more. After all, I am so very tired. I want a place where I can contribute. I want a place where I am welcomed. I want a place that is stable and healthy and honest. This is definitely not what I have experienced since walking in the doors that first day.

However, this day I know the why of it...at least in part. There is another child of Christ who has been hurt and broken and beaten down at work. A change in leadership brought about an unexpected change in how she was treated. I noticed the change and have puzzled over it. I even found myself in the uncomfortable position being caught in the middle of her messy situation. I have worried a bit and wondered what I could do or even say.

Yesterday was the breaking point for her, a time when she truly despaired of her future and wanted to flee. I didn't stop her. After all, I would be a hypocrite had I done so. I was, however, able to support and encourage her with words laden with the authenticity born by my own battles at work.

As I spoke to her, I found myself marveling at the mighty act of peace God has wrought in me over where I am. I still struggle with whether it is right to remain in a place where I question the integrity of its leadership and where the most unhealthy dynamics flourish. However, I cannot deny that God has been light to the darkness there.

For the third time, I found myself being able to comfort and encourage another sister in Christ. Over and over, I see small changes that have come about by remaining steadfast in my commitment to excellence and integrity. I have finally learned to stop trying to please people at work or caring over much about how I am perceived or even appreciated.

Since the middle of December, I have gone to work each day with the mind set that I wish to work heartily for the Lord. I have set goals based on what I believe I can accomplish despite the restrictions and limitations I face. I have steadily build a solid platform for whatever comes next, whether I am the one doing the work or not. And I have been incredibly productive at producing high quality work. While much has happened that practically scoffs at my labors, I have found satisfaction in knowing that I have given a solid witness. Oh, how I have learned to turn the other cheek.

It was an honor, therefore, that my experiences and lessons might be a comfort to another. We do not always get to see the hand of God at work. What grace He bestowed upon me to glimpse for but a moment some of the why of my life!

I am cold. I have been nudging the thermostat up all evening. At my last check, it read 76 degrees. And I am still cold.

I called B to tell her that. She is miserable with the 400th cold she has had since Thanksgiving, and yet I wanted her to know that I am cold.

Now, I have way too much blubber on my body to be cold. Truly, it is a veritable mystery. I mean, really, think about it. 76 degrees is enough to send me to my knees, to cloud my mind and tremble my limbs. 76 is stinking hot for me.

So, please tell me...why is 76 so blasted cold just now?

On this day, many moons ago, God gave life to my dear friend B. That was a good day.

This day is a day to celebrate her life. It is also a day to be thankful for the love she has poured over me, the encouragement she has showered upon me, and the chastisement she has gently given me. It is a mighty work of God that she walked into my classroom one day.

I have learned of the fragrance of Christ from her. I have learned of light and salt. I have learned of forgiveness and acceptance. I have learned of faith.

I have learned trust, friendship, and sacrifice.

I have learned love.

When I was there at Christmas, the days passed with things that needed to be done taking priority over my desire (albeit a selfish one) to fill them with games and movies and copious amounts of B time. One morning, I took Kashi for his morning walk, grumpily thinking about how I had had practically zilch time to spend with B when I was sleeping beneath her own roof. Well, I walk back inside and find the B has set the DVD ready to start a movie I had brought for her to see and had set up the game Sorry for us to play. I walked back inside to a great big gigantic "I Love You" from a woman who never ceases to amaze me at the magnitude of the gift God gave me in her.

I could spend a week with her wearing my Dallas Cowboy lounge pants and she would not bat an eyelash. I could fall asleep on her couch in the afternoon when she needed help getting ready for visitors and she would only hope that the vacuum would not disturb me. I could eat up her sumptuous peanut butter cookies, leaving her a quite empty jar, and she would be glad that I enjoyed her cooking. I could cry and question and whine a bit and she would accept the place where I am. I could slaughter her in Scrabble in my ruthless attempt to break the 700 mark in my score and she would play me again and again. I could guffaw loud enough to turn heads and garner stars and she would revel in my laughter. I could be ill and tired every day of our friendship and she would stay by my side and wish me well.

Yes, oh my yes! This day is a good day.

Tiger Woods is winning. All is right in the world.

94 grams. Fancy has lost three tail feathers. I am not sure how much they weigh, but could I not ascribe a gram or two more for that sake?

This evening was so very wonderful. I managed to get to my bible study with the help of the pastor who teaches it. You see, I really have rather rotten short term memory. Those brain cells seem to be those most affected by those things wreaking havoc in my body. I make lists. I plan. I set up reminders. I used electronic aids. Still, I forget.

The pastor, bless his heart, emailed me several reminder, the last one in all caps. Even so, I had come home and crawled into my pajamas and thrown myself on the couch before I remembered once more that I was going to make my way to the bible study come rain or sleet or snow.

The bible study, as I have mentioned before, is one my writing student's mother found on the Internet. It is taught by a Lutheran pastor and attended by members of his congregation. It meets every other week when not in conflict with the church calendar, i.e., that is not during advent or lent. Oh, yeah, the people who come are all quite old.

When G and I first arrived, I looked around, felt stupid for crashing some geriatric gathering, and wanted to leave. However, half way through the bible study I realized what a privildege it was to be with folks who still hungered for the Word of God after an entire lifetime.

The pastor teaches as if it were some sort of seminary class. Well, at least he teaches straight from the bible, giving historical and theological background. Each time I go, I am blessed by my time there. I am challenged by God's Word. And I revel in the time of study.

Anyhow, G picked me up and off we went. I was keen to get there because this was to be the only one before Lent begins, which means that we wouldn't be meeting again until after Easter. Since this was a one-timer, the pastor was teaching on a separate topic, rather than continue our study of Isaiah. He chose to read about the Ethiopian Eunuch in Acts 8. Read that chapter and then Isaiah 53 (where the Eunuch was reading by the side of the road) and then in Isaiah 54 and 56 (where he most likely continued reading).

If you read in Acts, you learn that this nameless official of the court of Candace (a rank, not a name), you would learn that he was coming back from Jerusalem where he went to worship the Lord. Now, if you are like the Pastor, you would remember how Deuteronomy tells us that eunuchs were not allowed in the temple. And if you carry a layout of the temple in your mind, you would remember that the court of the Gentile was the outermost place. So, you would realize that this was a very disappointed man having been rejected in his attempt to worship the god he had been reading about in the Isaiah, the purchase of which points to his commitment to to discovering truth given the outlay of monies that purchase would have involved. However, all I knew was that he was on his way back from Jerusalem...that is, it was all I knew until Pastor started teaching.

The Holy Spirit sent Philip to meet the eunuch. When the apostle heard him reading, he asked him to share. The passage that follows in Acts is a quote from Isaiah 53, the passage of the suffering servant.

He was oppressed and He was afflicted, yet He did not open His mouth; like a lamb that is led to slaughter, and like a sheep that is silent before its shearers, so He did not open His mouth. By oppression and judgment He was taken away; and as for His generation, who considered, who considered that He was cut off out of the land of the living, for the transgression of my people to whom the stroke was due?

The eunuch was moved by hearing of Christ, seeing how He, too, was rejected and He, too, had no hope of descendants. He asked Philip, probably rather tentatively, if, given that there was water nearby, there were any reason why he could not be baptized. He probably was expecting to be rejected once more. However, Philip replied with the Truth that the eunuch should have encountered in Jerusalem. All that was necessary was for him to believe in Christ.

He confessed his belief and was baptized. The Holy Spirit whisked Philip away. And the eunuch went on his way rejoicing.

Pastor asked us how Luke could have known that the eunuch went on his way rejoicing. A good question, eh? He posited that perhaps the eunuch, thrilled by what he had discovered in chapter 53 of his Isaiah scroll, kept reading, especially since he had a long drive home in that chariot of his. If he did, he would have read how God would use the barren one to establish His generations. The eunuch was barren. Another connection.

If he read further, he would have found that the text written 700 years before he took a breath were the lines that shaped his life. In chapter 56, he would see that God would preserve justice, far from treatment the eunuch found at the temple. He would see that God would have the foreigner welcomed and the eunuch given a name and a house within His walls and generations beyond him. Justice. A Name. Belonging. Future Generations. Promise after promise that spoke to the empty corners of the eunuch's heart.

Still, that is only supposition, right? How did Luke know that the eunuch went on his way rejoicing? Well, tradition among early Christians holds that this eunuch went on to become the father of the Coptic church in Ethiopia, one of the oldest expressions of Christianity that survives to this day, a church from which came Clement of Alexandria, Origen, and Athanasius. It is a church hard pressed on all sides, yet one that has stood fast against the rise of Islam to hold to the Truth of God's Word.

2,000 years later, I am reading in God's Word of a man who read God's Word written 700 years before him. I am reading of the power of faith even when faced with absolute opposition. I am reading of a man who was nameless and barren and had no place. Yet God had a plan. He spoke to Isaiah for all the generations to come. He also spoke to a single man. And He spoke to me.

The eunuch was in the desert, literally and figuratively, when He was quenched by the Living Water of Christ. The eunuch's life had been as God had purposed to bring him to a point where he was reading a scroll of Isaiah on a road at a time and place that was perfect in God's time and in God's plan.

Is not God's sovereignty a marvelous and wondrous mystery?

Fancy has slipped down to 83 grams. I just do not know what is her problem. She has definitely started to molt, which is a stressful time for her. However, she has never made it above 103 grams and her normal weight is 115. So, 83 is incredibly dangerous. I am worried for her. Short of shoving food down her beak, I do not know what to do...

I am not a Monday person. I cannot seem to start a week feeling anything other than tired, exhausted, and a bit frustrated. I cannot manage to go to bed early on Sunday evenings. I find myself tackling chores or reading a book late into the evening. I work some and get in a bit of organization. Seemingly, I do anything but get rest.

Now, from Friday evening until Sunday evening I do plenty of resting. Truly I cannot do much else. I sleep long hours, lounge on the couch, take naps, and rest some more. Still, Sunday evening finds me lingering awake until well after midnight.

I practically leap for joy on Monday holidays. I actually have not worked at a place that observed them in a long, long while. My current employer only observes two besides the big ones (Labor Day and Memorial Day). Today is one of them.

I read books all day. I napped twice. I was a bum.

So, will I get to bed at a decent time so that my Tuesday is not a Monday? Let's hope so...

I was quite dismayed to find last evening that Fancy weighed 97 grams. After all, she is going in the wrong direction.

Well, I cannot begin to express my frustration when I arrived back home from leading my father back home to pick up Fancy, weigh her, and discover that she now weighs 90 grams! What is wrong with her? Did she feel neglected while Dad was here?

I have been trying to decide if Fancy is molting or not. She has lost four wing feathers and two tail feathers (all while she was still 101 grams). She has also lost some body feathers. Around her neck, on her cheeks, and her on her crest, she does have some new feathers coming in. However, I haven't found a mass of feathers lining the bottom of the cage and flying around the room. When she molts, she does get stressed and looses weight, but nowhere near to the degree that Madison did. And...when she did, her usual weight loss was a mere 10 grams. 97 grams puts her nearly 20 grams below her usual weight.

ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I also really wanted to watch the Packers/Giants game, but I am so tired that I fell asleep some time during the first quarter and slept through the entire second quarter and half-time. Fancy did take a nap with me, tucked beneath my chin.

I wish I understood what she needs to get back to her usual weight...

My father got lost on the way home. This was not a good ending to a good visit (a visit made better by the fact that he bought me seven movies from the $5--it has dropped from $5.50--DVD bin at Wal-Mart).

His Garmin Nuvi 660 stopped navigating. Once he realized that he was in trouble, my father turned around and made his way back toward my house. Only...he over shot it by a few miles. Somehow he ended up at a movie theatre, parked his car, and asked someone to use a cell phone. I am thankful that one man took pity on him and called me.

Once I met up with him at the theatre, we had to go searching for his car because in all his confusion over being lost, he lost track of it. My poor father was literally blue with cold when I found him standing outside the theatre. He shivered beside me in the car as we wove our way through the aisles until we found his car and then dropped his keys four times trying to make his cold-stiffened hands work.

The plan then shifted to his coming home with me one more night. After getting gas for his car and for mine and picking up a hamburger from Ruby Tuesday's (a compromise since I did not want to go to a restaurant in my Dallas Cowboy lounge pants), we headed home and watched two more movies: Outbreak and True Lies.

He is in bed asleep now. I drew a map that would take him between my house and his in the hopes that he can get home tomorrow. However, I am not sure if putting him on the road without his cell phone (he forgot it at home) and without his Garmin (remember that is not not working just now) is the best idea. I thought about driving him half-way home, but I am not sure if my step-mother would meet me.

She is angry about all this. She thinks he broke the Garmin, but I know that he did not. All he did was change the navigation setting from Fastest Time to Off Road. You see, on the way here, he ended on up on beltway (never a good thing) and wanted to avoid doing so again on the way home. In truth, I was the one who actually changed the setting. So, if changing a setting is what broke the GPD unit, then it is my fault. This is actually the second one he has had because the first stopped working just a couple of weeks after he got it. I personally think that it is not the right unit for him. While my Magellan sometimes is fussy about entering addresses (and downright troublesome at this intersection near B's house), I think it is more user friendly for someone who needs repetitive actions to reinforce his memory.

For example, each time I route to a place on the Magellan, I am given the option of four navigational settings (Fastest Time, Shortest Distance, Most Use of Highways, and Least Use of Highways). On the Garmin, you set the navigation in a tool menu that is three screens separated from the routing menu and that process has to be repeated each time you want to change it. I just choose the navigational preference as a part of my routing.

Dad is 66 (I think...I need to do the math and it is much to late for mathematical computations). He is entirely too young to be having these problems...but he will not go to see a doctor about it and my step-mother will not take him either. She complains that he stays in the house too much...but really...if you got lost when you went out, wouldn't you choose to stay home? Being lost is quite frightening and a bit depressing. Because of the MS, I struggle with navigation myself when it comes to new places or those visited infrequently. I understand the fear and the frustration and the self-recrimation. I don't blame him for staying home and playing Spider on the computer.

I also happen to think that it must be terrifying to be my father right now...to know that his mind is failing. Oh, he is young...much, much too young for this.

My father is over this evening (he is braving my germs). We are in the midst of another movie marathon. Thus far, we have watched The Breach, Casino Royale, The Gauntlet, Turner and Hooch, and The Bourne Ultimatum. We have many more to get through if we are to finish the pile my father brought with him.

For dinner, I made him some of those triangle pasta stuffed with spinach and mozzerella cheese (the last of them I have on hand), steamed broccoli and carrots (made with the steamer B's mother gave me for Christmas), and a wild greens salad with dried cranberries, feta cheese, and sunflower seeds. He found the meal to be rather tasty. Having a raspberry fruit chiller for dinner was sublime to him. I think I have made another convert of those delicious frozen treats.

The only down side to this current movie fest is that even though he came over in broad daylight and with the assistance of his Garmin, it took my father over two hours to make a 45 minute drive. I welcome the company, but I fear I should not keep encouraging him to visit.

Snow!

Fancy is hovering around 101 grams. That is 14 grams less than her normal weight. For those of you who are not mathematicians, that is nearly a tenth of her body weight. On a bird, a tenth is a huge proportion. I can feel her keel bone so clearly whenever I hold her.

When I arise in the morning (after I have forced myself to leave the bed), I don my clothing, let Kashi outside, and retrieve Fancy from her cage. She perches on my shoulder while I eat and finish getting ready. Then I put her back in the cage, whisper sweet nothings into Kashi's ear, and leave my babies at home. When I return from work, Kashi goes back outside and Fancy perches on my shoulder again.

My evenings are spent reassuring either Kashi or Fancy that he/she is loved and cherished. Sometimes Fancy falls asleep on my chest, tucked up beneath my chin. Kashi will sleep at my feet to re-assert his claim to top pet in the household. Sometimes Fancy hangs out on my knee or foot as I stretch out on the couch, preening herself from wingtip to toe. But, sadly, sometimes she merely huddles and shakes and assumes the most pitiful affect imaginable.

I do not know if getting another bird is best for her, because she has reverted to treating me like her flock once more. I just don't know if being alone all day is what is keeping her from being able to get back to her normal fighting form. Is she merely taking a while to gain her weight back or is her heart breaking most of the day?

I wish I knew...

~~~~
NOTE: Kashi does not like me to sweep anything, either with a broom or with my hand. He will attack both in protest. Fancy, it turns out, vehemently protests when I brush my hair. She scolds me most energetically, pecking at the back of my hand in between her tirades.

Neither of my pets understand that I am the one in charge.

SIGH

You know the adage "anticipation is half the fun"? How true is that in your life? I, for one, have most often found that the anticipation is nearly all the "fun"--all because what I anticipated never quite realized into what I had envisioned.

That is until now.

I have kept meaning to write of my culinary joy. For months I have meant to set down on the screen how I feel about my new knife. You see, for a couple of years, I have wanted a santoku knife. For many years now, I have been working on establishing a knife collection ever since my brother gifted me with a set of Henckles steak knives. I then got a tomato knife and a boning knife. Next came a butcher's block for storage. I had thought that my favorite "knife" was going to be my kitchen shears (they fit so perfectly in a small spot in the center of the block), but I was wrong...so wrong.

I was down to two slots left. One is for a cleaver and one was the size of a chef's knive. I knew what I wanted there. I wanted the santoku. It is ubiquitous on cooking shows and always seems to be a very effective tool for the on-screen chef. The way their hand could curl around the handle and be supported off the surface of the cutting board was so compelling to watch. The santoku comes with a straight surface or one with little divots that make whatever you are cutting just fall off the knife quite beautifully. I am not sure if I would ever use a cleaver (though I still want one to finish up my collection), but I just knew that I would use that santoku.

I told myself that if I were to ever get a job, that the knife would be my celebration gift, even though after 13 months I had absolutely no business spending money on anything that was not absolutely necessary. Still... I really wanted that knife.

Well, in the nearly six months I have had my beloved knife, I have never ceased to marvel at how much having it actually exceeded my expectations and anticipation. Holding it is ever so comfortably. Chopping is a breeze. What more could you want? Well, I must add that I even feel a bit empowered when I am using it to prepare my food.

Seriously, now, I truly think that if you cook at all and do not have one you should pop out and fetch one post haste. Just don't forget to check for the divots!

B's grandmother was laid to rest today. She is now with Jesus.

I saw her at Thanksgiving and again at Christmas. She was lively and loving and asked after my trip from Virginia. I could not know then that 13 days later she would be dead. If nothing else, her death is a reminder to cherish the time you have with those you love.

I won't even pretend to say that I knew her. But I do know of her son. And I know her granddaughter. While I was visiting both holidays, I saw her son care for her in a loving and diligent manner, much as he has done for his family. For over a decade, I have been the recipient of her legacy in the loving gift that is B's friendship.

B's grandmother had a beautiful and enduring footstep on this world. She walked with Christ. She cared for those around her. May she now rest in His arms.

My 'Boys did not show up for the game. Sadness abounds...

W was married today! For a very long time I have thought she would make someone a good wife, a true and loving partner. God thought so, too.

There was a time, a while ago, when W was deeply hurt by some fellow Christians and circumstances she could not understand. She wrapped herself in darkness and embraced every brimstone, fire, and damnation verse of the bible. She could see no good in the path God chose for her. Yet, she walked by faith, even if her steps were a bit hesitant at times.

His ways are not our ways. His timing is not often as we would choose ourselves. But both are always for the good. Always!

I praise God that He brought W and J before Him this day in a union that will honor Him, a union that will certainly be a witness and testimony of the grace of His Son Jesus Christ.

It was a crazy busy day with another mailing to wrap up before the post office closed at 9:00 this evening. It was a day filled with hasty design and printing for a last minute item. It was a day marked by stuffing and sealing and labeling.

It was marked by another donation of luggage for the foster children so that they would not have to move from home to home in garbage bags.

It was marked by yet another last minute, near impossible task.

And it was marked by the first real opportunity to present and discuss my strategic vision and communications plan for the agency. For one whole hour, I was able to revel in analysis and planning and weighing how such strategic direction might benefit the agency. It was simply wonderful.

I had nary a spare moment for my lunch or a Dr. Pepper, but it did not matter. Then came the icing on the cake: my writing student came over for dinner and a movie (actually two of them).
It was great to see her and to hear a bit about college. After such a day, I just wanted to relax and savor the day. Doing so was far, far better with company.

Oh, yeah...I should note that she found the spinach stuffed pasta triangles tasty!

When I was with B, I learned that she could not easily recycle her paper board. Since I can, I flattened all that I could find and brought it back with me.

I swaggered a bit with her about my recycling efforts, even knowing that she composts. I wondered this morning if perhaps I had no ground to stand upon. You tell me...

Every other week, I put out a bin stuffed with recyclable materials: glass, plastic, aluminum, newspaper, cardboard, and paperboard. I have gotten to the point where I put out my trash can every 6 to 8 weeks. The time extended from 4-6 weeks because I started saving all my junk mail and paper to take to work since there is a big shredder there and the paper is recycled. So, where trash goes, I have about one kitchen-sized bag a week. Is that still too much? Should I have so much recyclables? The Gatorade I enjoy so much comes in big plastic bottles. Should I give it up? Should I be trying to reduce my recyclables?

But, I wonder if I am not doing enough. I do not throw out my scraps; they go down the disposal. Should I try to compost them? I do not have very many. Would it make a difference?

I teased B about how much she stuffs in her dishwasher. Frankly, I think it is too much for cleanliness. My dishwasher is a small one to fit in my microscopic kitchen. I do not always use it, since I pretty much use the same dishes again and again. But...should I be stuffing it more?

My quarterly water bill averages about $25. There is only me to shower. And, since I prefer to blanch myself while bathing which is hazardous to my health, those showers tend to be around 5 minutes. I do tend to wait until I have large loads of laundry before I set out to clean my clothes. But is that enough?

I use CFL bulbs, but B unplugs her appliances and electronics. I don't really do that. She also turns off lights when she leaves the room and rarely uses her porch light. I leave my porch lights on all night. But then again, she has G. I am alone. I should do more.

I thought I was green enough to brag, but perhaps not. Are you?

I am delighting in the gift that is T. God has showered down blessings on me. I was having a bit of a bad day, a bit low in spirits. I had to pop out of the office for a bit, so thanks to my good friends at Sprint, I was able to get in touch with T. What a felicitous call it was.

T. is taking piano lessons. I heartily believe that this is a good thing for her and something that is altogether satisfying to know my dear friend is finding joy in music of her own making. Well, by and by when I called T was practicing. What beautiful timing. She serenaded me whilst I was driving, brightening my entire day.

Sharing song is a special thing. It is a moment where you shed self and revel in the music. It does not matter if you sound wonderful or play to perfection. What matters is the sharing.

T didn't worry about how she sounded or if all the keys were struck perfectly. She was giving me a gift. None of that mattered.

I thank God for the woman He created in her and for bringing her into my life.

I have been remiss in reporting that the stars are aligned in a strange and unusual fashion just now.

How do I know this? I am on this really, truly amazing win streak in Scrabble against B. I have been winning game after game after game. While she has not much enjoyed my success since it means the lack of hers, I have had enjoyment aplenty for the both of us.

I am not sure why, but tiles have been falling into bingos. The high score ones have come my way. I have even gotten a few question mark ones, tiles that usually go to B.

I am trying to break 700 in my ranking, but that might mean B dropping into the 300's...and I panic whenever I fall below 600. I ought not to aspire to such lofty places when it means my dear friend must stay in the basement to do so.

Still, since over the past year the loss has more commonly been mine, I am enjoying the shoe being on the other foot!

I am still really stiff, with all my bruises now turning a sickening green. I guess I could try out for "My Favorite Martian" should there be a remake. The inside of my right arm, the part that was dragged along the railing as I tried to stop myself, is still really swollen. I would think that I broke something except that if I did, it would bend in the wrong place. I am not much good right now. Sleepy because the pain wakes me up. Grumpy because I am in pain.

Prime Dr. Pepper time, right?

At least the debacle gave me the opportunity to reorder the books on that shelf...silver linings...

Okay, I am not backing away from my post of a few days ago, but I will say that I discovered that there is such a thing as financial resolutions.

I am not making any.

However, I did read this interesting article about things you can do to save money. One was to eat out of the recesses of your pantry more often. I can do that.

I poked around a bit and choose a few things to eat that would qualify. I even moved them to the lowest shelf in the cabinet just above my cutlery so that I will not forgot. Two of them are things that my dear friend T let me have when she was cleaning out her kitchen this past summer. The potatoes are expired...but...well...how can dried potatoes expire? I am sure I will be fine.

For the sake of honesty, I shall admit that there are no soups in that collection of eat-first-items. I am avoiding them.

Did you know about financial resolutions? They seem not to be so new. Are they there because Americans stink at saving money compared to many other nations? Perhaps they exist because we are in a colossal mess in our economy due to poor fiscal stewardship in the part of those who took mortgages that were beyond those means and the irresponsible lenders who allowed them to do so?

Hmm...financial resolutions. What would you resolve, were you to be resolving financially speaking?

No resolutions for me this year. None. Nada.

Nor shall I reflect on all those from last year that are still pending. That would be too discouraging. I shall finish them. I shall. However, I most assuredly shall not foray into the realm of resolutions ever again.

I shall hope for a more productive year. I shall hope for victory over debt. I shall hope for a deepening of faith. I shall hope for peace with God's will.

I shall strive to be the fragrance of Christ to those around me, to be light and salt to them.

May that be enough.

~Selah