Kinda Like It, Kinda Hate It

When my big boys were young they invented the saying, "Kinda like it, kinda hate it." It was a description of how we feel about certain slightly weird foods, like McDonald's pickles. Or black jellybeans. You get it? It was the perfect expression for that little phenomenon in life when you're attracted, for some inexplicable reason, to something kind of yucky. I guess some would call it "acquired taste," but I loved the term my boys made up. We even had a song for it. You just sing it to the tune of "Camp Granada." Kinda like it, tch tch tch, kinda hate it, tch tch tch...

Maybe it's because, for me anyway, things stick in my craw if I don't quite understand them. Not things that are way over my head, like how a computer works, or even a radio for that matter. But things I kind of almost get, but not really. Like what exactly is that yucky pickle taste? And the smell of the black jellybean in my nose that maybe reminds me of... rootbeer?

Some things are intriguing/repulsive because of their weirdness. For little kids it's monsters, for bigger kids maybe the opposite sex? How about insects, and many other animals--strangeness! Sometimes even other people are so different from me, my family, my friends, that they just seem--undecipherable. I used to just ignore them, pretend they weren't there.

But lately I have been realizing that the God I feel relatively comfortable with (in a reverential way) is also the God that created all this strangeosity. Giant spiders, flounder eyes, and people with tiny noses...all His designs. I seriously used to think I could categorize things from my surface-y point of view, and one of the categories was, "doesn't count." Like as if I can make that call.

Just Happy to Be Here

I love my blog. It's so nice, when at the end of my rope, there's a place to unwind and let my thoughts out. It is also a bit of a discipline, to get things aired without disclosing too much (it being public), and also just to try to fit vague ideas into words at all.

I am a stiff-necked woman. In the Bible God refers to the rebellious Jews as being "stiff-necked." My neck is seriously messed up, physically. It crackles and pops and gets stuck, and sometimes I think the Lord may be pointing out my spiritual condition with this discomfort.

I also love to play piano. I am finally reading "Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain," at the suggestion of my artist son. In it the author discusses the aspect of being totally absorbed in what you're doing. Like when you're behind the wheel, thinking about all kinds of things, and you suddenly realize you don't remember driving for the past several miles. That is how playing piano can be sometimes too.

As I was practicing the other day, an unusual thought came to me. I think it was underscored in my Bible/prayer time, though I don't remember the words. What occurred to me at the piano was the proposition that, perhaps, I was unteachable. This was a shocking bit of news. I have always regarded myself as one who seeks out mentors and teachers, a collector of wisdom and advice...but maybe it has been only on my terms...

I have been struggling quite a bit with some relationships in my life (like everyone else, I guess). But the hard one is with a child of mine. I am always wanting him to change. I am always thinking of him as being unteachable. The idea appeared in my mind...that maybe...I was the one who needed to learn the lesson. And that somehow, (this may not be correct) if I were to become teachable, then so would he.