deep dreams, my thoughts on Shark Week, and why Joanna Gaines stole my life (or, another Friday ramb

My dreams get stranger and stranger. Last night, I dreamt that I let my husband cut my hair, with his clippers. He was taking huge chunks out of the side of my head, but when all was said and done, it looked fantastic! After that, we both attempted to fit into our old clothes. I was determined to fit into my green prom dress from 1988, and my husband was attempting to stuff himself into the tuxedo he wore at our wedding. Then, I was suddenly at work, but had to get up and leave with my sister to go get my urine samples. My urine samples were in enormous fiesta wear bowls! Filled to the very top! And lavender pot pourri was floating in it. My sister, I think, added that nice touch. And I was supposed to carry these bowls to my car and then drive with them, and I kept thinking, "can somebody give me a lid, or at least some saran wrap, to cover these with??? There is no way I won't spill this!"

I shared this dream with my husband, in great enthusiasm as I do, because I am convinced they mean something deep and profound, always. "What do you think?" I asked. "Well, I think the hair cutting means that you should trust me because I am always right." I thought about that for a moment. "Interesting. But I don't think so. I think I just need a haircut." So I moved on. "Well, what about the fact that we were trying to fit into clothes of our youth...huh??? What do you think that means???" And I was thinking, ya know, that it was pointing to a kind of a longing for going back to a time in our lives that was less stressful. My husband's take on it? "I think it means your husband's fat."

Anybody else out there disappointed with Phelps vs. Shark? Just curious. I mean, the title was misleading, don't you think? Should have been Phelps vs. Simulated Shark. And of course my husband is all like, "What did you think? They were going to put him in the water with a real shark??" And well, yeah. I guess I did. That's my problem with Shark Week. It's boring. I don't want to see a man in a cage or learn about where sharks swim. I think, if I am being honest, I want to see someone either get real close to being eaten, or, well...flat out eaten. Is that weird? I think there is something wrong with me.

So we have been juggling one car this summer because my husbands's car took its final breath in June. And you know, I have to say, that for the most part, God has been so faithful with taking a lousy situation and pulling out the good. On the days my husband takes the train to work, I am left with no excuse for making it to the 6:45 am Mass. And not only do we save on gas, but I get to pick my husband up from the train station later that day, which has dug up the sweet memory of me as a young girl sitting in the Buick station wagon riding with my mom to the Scarsdale train station to get my dad. I had forgotten we did that. I had forgotten that time with my mom, and how I would watch the men in business suits with brief cases file out of the train, and how I would search the crowd for my daddy, and how my mom would sing to each man as he walked by, "little man, you've had a busy day!" Now I get to sing that to the men filing out of the train. And if you are wondering...yes...I actually do sing. Only, men? They don't wear suits anymore. Too bad.

My husband and I decided it was time to buy our first home the same year we sent our first off to college, so naturally, the car died too, and my daughters cheer team will most likely go to Nationals in Florida two weeks before Christmas. Amazing we didn't choose to become financial Counselors. I mean, really. We have such a natural gift of wisdom and common sense when it comes to money. These are the moments when I start to look around the house looking for something I can sell. Anyone looking to buy a dog? Or a dirty Ikea couch? Or my green prom dress? Or a candle from TJ Maxx? I only lit it a few times. If you are interested, message me and I'll get you a fair price...like $450,000 for all of it.....or maybe we can do a trade? Two dogs and an Anthroplogie latte bowl and apron collection for the cost of braces for my daughter? Make an offer. I am open.

The other night we experienced the rare occasion of both myself, and my husband, in bed at the same time...reading. I felt like a TV sitcom couple. Back when TV shows had couples that were man and woman and actually married. My husband was reading Saint Augustine. I was reading The Magnolia Story. And if you knew nothing about the two of us, you now know everything.

Which leads me to the fabulous Chip and Joanna Gaines. I like to call her Jo Jo. We are tight like that. I bought the book because it was 30% off, and because I heard a clip of Jo Jo on Hallie Lord's podcast talking about how she heard the voice of God. The book is an easy read (well, easier than Saint Augustine, but, whatever) and fun if you enjoy Fixer Upper. But what I love about this book are the threads of God's glory through out their story. A story of ups and downs, highs and lows, but ultimately, one with family at the center. One that is built on good character, hard work, honesty, love, and generosity towards others. One that is written by the hand of God. And they recognize that. And with each chapter I read, I hear myself saying, "That's so me!" or, "Oh my gosh, I had that happen too!" or "That is sooo totally what I think!", and so the bottom line, really? Joanna Gaines stole my life.

I received a beautiful e mail recently from one of my biggest encouragers ever, who after reading this post said, " I wrote this e mail through a blur of tears because I know this story, and it is your story and my story and the story of so many of us." And well, isn't that just so true? Isn't that why I think Jo Jo Gaines stole my life? Isn't that why we gravitate towards truth? Isn't this why when we are honest with one another, and tell it like it is, we feel a huge weight lifted, and we are able to say "I get it"? Because our stories may have different characters and plot lines, and perhaps your story has one more car than my story and a bigger bank account, but at the end of the day? Our stories are all the same. They are all the story of a hot mess person trying to figure out who the heck they are apart from God, until they realize..."oh wait...that is not how it works!!!!" Every story, recognized or not, is laced with the threads of God's intricate handy work. His beautiful design.

Because really, if you think about it today, and really search out those moments you have had that seem a coincidence, or seem like good karma, or seem like you were just in the right place at the right time....did you ever consider that it had nothing to do with you or luck, but everything to do with God? That's what I think.

And now my husband just announced he has an appointment with the urologist at 3pm. Urologist, people! My dream!!! I asked him to please share my dream with him about my fiesta bowl urine sample. Clearly....this is the voice of God and I am some sort of urine prophet. I knew that dream was deep.