Itching to tell you....

Lice.

 

 

 

It was all I knew at college.

 

 You say?

 

 

 

Yeah. Lice.

 

Monsters Outside of Me.

 

Monsters University.

 

That was my identity.

 

Every weekend we would hit the church buses and head to different areas off Chicago, visiting kids and their families and taking them on the church bus the next day for a wonderful day of games, Sunday School, and long rides back into Chi-town. The trip from Chicago to Hammond was not always easy, but we did it for the love of the people who rode on the bus.

 

However, lice was a problem.

 

Not always. We had many wonderful families that would invite us into their homes and share a meal with us, let us watch some TV and chat, or just enjoy the company of each other.

 

Then there were other houses. Same atmosphere, but with a few extra visitors. Houses infested with things that you could see on the heads of the little ones who were always the most affectionate. BIG hugs. Laying their heads on your shoulder. Nestling up against you on the rides to and from church. Those hugs were precious, but the sudden feeling of impending doom that would come over you when realizing that the head of hair was also infested with creatures of pure terror was hard to ignore.

 

Sunday nights and Monday mornings were so often spent buying lice shampoo (which we could find in the bookstore located next to our textbooks.) Garbage bags were kept in the bottom drawers of our dressers and many a time you could find us wrapping up our beddings for a few weeks, doing some hot hot laundry, and burning our hairbrushes with the plan to finger comb the next day until we could make it to Meijer for a brand new toy.

 

Ok, it wasn't this large.

 

 

I was overly paranoid about lice when I got out of college. Why? Because I always had it. Lice have always loved my hair, so I knew what it was like to feel dirty all of the time. Having lice doesn’t make you a dirty person, but you sure do feel like it at the time.

 

My fondest “louse memory” was when my best friend Crystal and I had just entered a Denny’s bathroom near my house whilst on holiday (sometimes I like to sound British.) I had leaned over the counter to fix my eyeliner when I heard that familiar gasp.

 

“Kendra. I don’t know how to tell you this.”

 

“WHAT?!?!”-----INSERT FEAR AND LOATHING

 

“I see something in your hair.”

 

The tears started to well. I was so tired of it. :sigh: “Just check.”

 

Lo and behold, she did check. And lo and behold, I did have. I used what little money I had for a kit, went home, and we sorrowfully bonded as she lovingly pulled little clear eggs out of my hair for three hours.

 

We were a pair of grooming monkeys, I swear it to you.

 

"Make sure it is nowhere to be found!"

 

The first several months out of college, I checked my hair every Sunday night still. I had new bedding, I had new brushes, a lot of new clothes, and even had my hair did.

 

But I still thought I carried what was once my biggest burden, even when I had been pulled out of the atmosphere and new that I was “clean.”

 

I still do that to do this day….in more ways than one.

 

Some people call the acceptance of grace a “cheap grace.” That God through His Son Jesus Christ was able to erase the sins of His children from the past, present, and the future. This is not cheap grace. This is unconditional love. This is true grace.

 

We refuse it so often.

 

We accept Christ, but we continue to check for the burden we carried for so long. The things we’ve done, the thousand little things we carried with us for so long, we think they’re still there even though we’ve been “cleaned.” This is not a “free pass” for a life of cheap thrills but a beautiful release into a life of service through understanding just that….grace.

 

 He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings.

And he hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God: many shall see it, and fear, and shall trust in the Lord.

 

There is no point in carrying what has already been taken away.

Walkin' on broken birds.

“I’m in love I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it! Babe, I’m gonna scan some Clorox Wipes. I stinken love me some Clorox Wipes.”

 

Registering for a wedding. Does it get any better than this?

 

After hours of hearing how “we need to register for fine china, don’t register for a camera because they’re all discontinued,” deciding that we are in DIRE NEED of a Soda Stream, and hearing the ever-so-clever argument from your man-child-fiance of why in the world he scanned 47 Tide-To-Go pens…..I was ready to start focusing on decorating our future home.

 

Precious.

 

The movie. I scanned the movie Precious. I like that movie.

 

I’ve never seen that movie. I should probably add that to my registry then….

 

Decorating, oh yes! Decorating. I’ve found that I like browns.

 

Maybe because I’m going to be a nurse, and we’re the only people who get excited about poop.

 

 

 

Also, I love birds.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I hate REAL LIVE birds. They are utterly terrifying. Every time I see one of those big crows picking at road kill along the highway I can see him look up at me and say, “YOU’RE NEXT.”

 

 

 

Fake birds. Décor birds. Those adorable love birds that are on canvas paintings, place mats, shelves.

 

Target has so many birds.

 

I just love those stinken birds.

 

I found the birds.

 

“I’m scanning this.” I picked up a beautiful white ceramic bird, already planning where I would put it on those wall shelves we just scanned in aisle 13. This will make a great shelf bird.

 

“Scan the other one too so we can have both,” my love crooned to my right.

 

Now, I was going to scan the other bird.

 

But everyone keeps telling me that I need to practice submission. The more that they mention it, the less submissive I become and the more I hear Destiny’s Child singing “All the women, who independent!” singing somewhere across Target’s majestic rows and SUDDENLY….I lose my desire to scan the other bird.

 

“I will scan the other bird if I want to scan the other bird,” I reply with a smile. He rolls his eyes. He knows me well. “And you’re lucky because I want to scan the other bird.” Not breaking eye contact, I single-handedly scan that precious fowl and sit it back down submissively/defiantly back on its Target-made perch…not carefully enough to where it was steady and lo and behold, the bird lost its desire to live and went crashing to the ground, exploding into fifty pieces.

 

:cue laughter of fiancé:

 

:also cue maniacal face of the manager who just happened to be standing a few yards away:

 

 

 

I don’t blush often, but I definitely did here. I gave up my will to scan and gave control back over to my loving man-friend who inevitably let it go and didn’t mention it again. NOT! Any bird he found after that he would hold it in my face and say, “Miss Kendra, why isn’t my daddy coming home tonight?”

 

I don’t like being humbled.

 

That’s exactly how it is, isn’t it?

 

The moment we get defiant, the moment we get humbled.

 

An attitude ain’t pretty. Getting humbled is even uglier. The JerBear was just trying to be nice, helpful even, but I wanted to be in control, because by golly I’m always right. Or maybe just not teachable?

 

Let the words of my mouth, and the meditations of my heart, be acceptable in Thy sight.

 

Brings on a whole new meaning after humility sets in.

Drug-induced awesomeness.

Let’s talk talent.

 

I don’t have it.

 

Wit? Yes.

 

Brains? Only a minor amount.

 

Talent? Oh sweet Moses.

 

No.

 

Talking to someone about Pinterest reminded me of the bitterness I harbor for all of the talented people. This includes Facebook. You ruthless mother of pearls who post “I tripped today and made this scarf” or “I got bored today and made this glass-blown vase.” As I told that same sweet someone, I tried to ‘trip’ and make a chiffon flower for my wedding….FAIL. I now use it as a loofah!

 

 

 

 GUESS WHAT?!?! I GOT BORED TODAY AND ATE A WHOLE BAG OF CHEETOS!

 

Speaking of which.

 

I am ill. This constant change in weather/temperature/school closings is the worst for my asthma. I am a Walking Dead stunt double and during these times MOST people lose their appetite. “I can’t eat, I’m too sick….” I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THAT. The only Dr. I want to see is Pepper and the only thing I want to nurse me back to health is the half-pound Reese’s chocolate my mother gave me earlier. Which disappeared and left the wrapper. Weird.

 

I am fairly good about doing without soda. I am not boasting. FAIRLY GOOD. Sometimes I convince myself that if it’s half a can of Sprite it’s not really soda, it’s more like sugary water with bubbles….but when I’m sick, I throw caution to the wind and drink my weight’s worth in fountain pop from the gas station down the road. Seriously.

 

 

 

It’s so easy to convince myself that wrong is right when I’m at my weakest.

 

Oh no. It’s starting to settle in that I’m trying to make a life’s application to bronchitis and sinusitis. Why can’t she just tell a story without peeling back the core of my soul?

 

I am the daughter of Tammy McBee, who makes a spiritual application to the movie Blades of Glory, even when it’s very apparent that that is definitely NOT the goal.

 

So yeah, I have to do this.

 

Anyway, I am good at convincing myself that soda is definitely ok, even healthy, when I am ill.

 

I do that with my quality of character when I’m going through a tough time.

 

When I’m going through a trial or struggling with something, I become selfish. Maybe I’m not as patient with people, maybe not as caring and considerate to view the feelings of those around me, maybe I even convince myself that something that is terrible for me might just be a good thing that makes me feel better.

 

However, I feel like poop trying to exercise that mess off when my lungs clear up, just as I realize my mistakes all too late when I do come out of my trial and see the decisions I’ve made and the way I’ve treated people.

 

When I start to feel sick, I need to start mentally preparing myself for the binges. And with that mindset, I need to apply that to everything else. We’re either going through a struggle, coming out of a struggle, or about to go into a struggle. With that knowledge, we need to keep a mindset to not let the struggle destroy us.

 

You guys got this.

 

I just need to finish my Reese’s Puffs first.

 

 

Breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

"I know what I want....but it's not on here."

"Well, ma'am, if you tell me what you want, I'd be happy to get it for you."

"I'm just gonna have to tell you what it is that I want and you're going to have to tell me what meal it is on this menu."

"All righty then....."

"I want one piece of catfish, fried, an egg over medium, turnip greens, steak fries, and a pancake."

"Oka-"

"And bring me a biscuit and a corn muffin. Blackberry jelly."

"Sure thing."

"What meal is that?"

PROBABLY ONE FOR SOMEONE PREGNANT WITH TRIPLETS!

"Well, ma'am, it's not exactly a meal, but if that's what you want to eat, I'll put it in for you."

"GOOD. Bring me a coke."

Ahhh....I love these people.....if you've waitressed, you know what I'm talking about. We have eight hundred million meals on our menus. Eight. Hundred. Million. Followed by 74 sides to choose from. In all of this delectable madness, some people make their own weird meal, and then complain when they get a $17 bill.

"You were supposed to help me out."

"I did the best that I could with what you ordered, ma'am. That's the cheapest way to ring it in, I assure you."

"Then take the pancake back."

OH. OK. SO WE NOW HAVE A RETURN POLICY ON THE PANCAKES. I wonder if you brought a pancake back within thirty days, as long as you have the syrup bottle, IF YOU WOULD GET YOUR MONEY BACK.

Mother of pearls.

There's a lot going on in my head during times like these. The whites of my knuckles are now showing. I am squeezing my pen so tightly than ink has exploded out and is running down my arm. Beads of sweat are streaming down my face and you can see that one vein popping out of my forehead in an attempt to control my rabid animal nature from coming out at this blessed creature before me.

Nope.

This is what I look like.

"Sure thing. Sorry for the inconvenience."

I want to be angry. I want to be mad. I want to ask what she expected when she threw out that order on her sweet Baptist waitress.

I really can't though.

She picked and chose what she thought she wanted out of the menu, but she didn't like the end result. The price she had to pay.

Ha.

I do that too.

I have a Bible.

It's a pretty awesome book.

When I say I'm a Christian, I take that Bible into my life as a whole.

But I treat it like a menu.

I pick what I want out of it, tell God I want it that way, and if I don't like the price I have to pay for those choices......something's a bit different in the end result.

I can't take it back.

Pondered that today in class.

Stings a little, but it holds a lot of truth.

When I say I'm a Christian, I take it all. The whole thing. Not just what I want out of the Bible. Not just the things that make me all warm and fuzzy inside.

I've done that for a long time though.....might be a good time for a change.

Urine trouble...

“Kendra….just go!”

“I DON’T WANNA! EVERYONE’S WATCHING!”

“Don’t think about them. The sooner you go….the sooner we leave.”

Oh, really? You think I’m falling for that?

I was in and out of the hospital as a kid. Seriously. All the stinkin’ time. I knew that on Thursdays they had everything pizza with green peppers and that on Tuesday nights my favorite nurse Barb would come in with chocolates shaped like bells and give me a handful before clocking out for the night.

But this was new.

I was having some kidney issues, not that I even knew what the heck that meant at the time, but I was a wee chitlin and now in a big metallic-looking room being told to pee on a table.

Pee on a table.

Yes, because that’s natural for a child….to pee on a table.

And for the joy of humanity, let’s invite a group of med students in to observe and report!

So there I am….lying on a table, maybe six or seven years old, surrounded by some white-coated infidels (who I now know actually cared) waiting for me to do the simple act of urinating all over myself.

Can you believe I refused?

I am an ugly crier, always have been, and I can just see the med students writing in their clinical journals about me, “I was able to experience a procedure today with one pediatric patient who had the scariest scrunched up face I have ever seen, in my professional opinion…”

“I AIN’T GOIN’.”

I was not stubborn by any means.

Mom was there.

“Kendra, the sooner you go, the sooner I will get you McDonald’s.”

Well, the windows of heaven did open! Somehow I managed to find the inner bladder angel and destroy the table beneath me.

TMI? Suck it up, readers.

I was but a wee babe.

And shortly after, just as she had promised, after they got me showered up, I was sitting at a table with a Big Mac and fries.

Blessed be the name of the Lord.

I think about that moment a lot. I don’t have too many fond memories of the hospital, or the procedures I had done, but I do remember that one a lot and laugh. I laugh at how much it applies to my life now.

I pee on tables pretty often.

Haha!

No.

However, that procedure that day was to help me, it seemed terrible at the time, but it was definitely for my benefit. Only when I was given something that I wanted did I follow through with what was best for me.

See where I’m going here?

In my walk with Christ, He has me go through a lot of things, deal with a lot of situations, handle a lot of different people and circumstances, all for my benefit. He leads me in paths I normally would not walk through and areas in my life where I normally would not travel. When He presents me with these options, I refuse at first, thinking, What will you do for me if I do this for You?

What a sad way to build a relationship with Christ. Thinking that we lead a life in which He owes us something…how corrupt is that thought process?

If you do or don’t believe in God, or are not a follower of Christ, even though I would hope and pray that you would be one day, you can apply this to any relationship. We’re constantly looking to “get something out of” every circumstance in life.

How selfish.

How misinformed are we?

Every day, every moment that we wake up, is a new opportunity to live outside of ourselves. To live for others and to do things that make us uncomfortable, but will make us better in the future. We are not owed anything…and even though our debt has been paid, we ought to live our lives out of thankfulness and gratitude by the chances we’ve been given. My mom would've taken me to McDonald's either way, but how nice would it have been for the surprise of getting it after doing what I was told....instead of remembering twenty years later that I was too stubborn and demanded it instead?

Pee on that table, folks. Pee on that table. ;)

We Wish You a Merry....NO.

City sidewalks....busy sidewalks....

BANG!

Again my closed eyelids grimaced along with the rest of my body as I realized that my loving mother was YET AGAIN waking me up with the banging of metal pan lids and Christmas music.

It's August.

Oh dear.

My mom.

Precious woman.

Light of my life.

Christmas sadist.

That woman loves Christmas. Every day of every week of every month, growing up and even now, you can walk into our house and hear Christmas music playing. Burl Ives, Dolly Parton, Kenny Rogers, anyone with a voice on a record played throughout my childhood. Into my later "tweenage" years our cassette player had Alabama and Reba McEntire crooning out Silent Night.

I WISH IT WOULD'VE BEEN SILENT.

And now we have the joys of furthered technology. She found out what Pandora was!

Oh hooray.

At any time, anywhere, in any situation, the lyrics to Silver Bells are playing in my head.

Being in mental health this semester of nursing school.....it makes me believe I'm under a St. Nick psychosis, also known as Krismosis Kringlosis. (Yeah, I did that. So sue me.)

She drives me nuts. And everything's themed! At one point of time we had ELEVEN THEMED CHRISTMAS TREES throughout our house! We had a laundry one by the dryer, a patriotic one near the window because we're American, we had a Santa one FULL-SIZED....ON A TABLE.....right in front of the television! THERE IS NO LOGIC THERE?!?!

I must say when carolers come to the door, I usually answer with a ketchup covered chef's knife and ask them if they can come back in twenty minutes. Ain't nobody got time for Christmas.

My favorite movie is the Grinch. I never watch the end. I enjoy his personality before "the change."

Yeah, not a fan these days. The Merry-time overload I had growing up did me in.

It is precious though. She starts decorating for Christmas by October and come Thanksgiving it looks like a Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer projectile vomited all throughout our Winter Wonderland of a house.

It's her favorite season! As much as she drives me BONKERS, I can't help but appreciate how much she enjoys the season of said holiday.

When that adorable little Poinsettia-loving, Christmas cookie baking, present-wrapping extremist says, "But honey....I LOVE CHRISTMAS! It's THE BEST SEASON!" I respond with, "But there are so many other seasons to be enjoyed! Emphasizing on this one HAS RUINED IT FOR THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE!!!!"

Hahaha.....but wait, how many times do I do just that in my life? I'm in a season of life, whether difficult or wonderful, that should be appreciated, and I've begun "dragging out the christmas lights" way too early ahead of time?

Are you with me folks?

Perhaps you do it too.

Single people or even dating people, are you so wrapped up in the pursuit of marriage has taken you away from the ministry you have NOW, the loved ones you have NOW, the opportunities you have NOW?

Moms and dads, are you so focused on building a financial future and safety net for your kids that you've forgotten that they're with you NOW, they love you NOW, they need you NOW?

These are just a few examples...mirroring my own issues...I can think of so many! I get so focused on my career as a nurse, I forget the ups and downs of nursing school, the fun of clinicals, the friends being made, and what I could be doing NOW! (Are you ready for me to throw away my CAPS button?)

Jesus Christ rebuked Martha as she prepared for an evening of fellowship with her sister Mary in Luke 10. While Mary lay at His feet, Martha, in frustration, busied herself with the preparations she felt was "needful" for the coming hours with her Friend. In this frustration, she begs Him to encourage Mary to join Martha, but He tells her that Mary is doing the "one thing that is needful", and that was fellowship with Him in the moment. Mary took full advantage of that season of the evening, the time she had with Christ...and He blessed her for it.

Don't forget what is needful....enjoy your season. NOW.

Ohio Doesn't Have Burger Kings.

Road trips.

I love them.

But life is hard sometimes.

I suffer.

I am a fairly healthy human being. I exercise, I eat healthy, I don't do fast food much at all.

Then there's road trips.

I have a general rule: On the way to and from Point A and Point B, you may stop and purchase food to consume wherever you want, whenever you want, with no judgment.

This is an awesome plan.

During this time my body mentally prepares itself, and the cravings begin. I am not pregnant, but I have pregnancy cravings. My body starts to tremble, my mouth begins to salivate, and I get a rumbly in my tumbly.

During this time, I may want anything from a Mr. Pibb to fried pickles to a Whatchamacallit. 

But I have to have it, whatever it is.

Let me say this again....I HAVE TO HAVE IT. My cravings are not satisfied until justice is served and I am chowing down on whatever deliciousness my starving imagination has come up with.

This time, it was a Whopper from Burger King.

Oh I'm gettin' me a Whopper.

I was on my way home from North Carolina. I was in Virginia and I thought to myself, "By Ohio I shall be near lunchtime, and for lunchtime I shall have a Whopper, or else someone shall inevitably die."

It's a 12-hour road trip. Many cravings come usually, but this was one craving, one craving only, it was specific, and it was GLORIOUS.

WELCOME TO OHIO! OH MY SOUL! THERE IT IS! I'm here! I had seen a thousand million trillion Burger Kings along the way, but I had set my goal to Ohio, so let the task of finding a food exit with that voluptuous red font written all over it begin.

First exit. Awesome....a KFC, a McDonald's, and a Dairy Queen.

Well that's disappointing. Must I push on? Of course. Mission yet to be accomplished.

Next exit: Dairy Queen and a Wendy's. That's just unnecessary.

Next: Another KFC and Dairy Queen. Do these people not like beef? Moses.

Next, and next, and next, and next exit goes by. WHY DOES OHIO NOT LIKE BURGER KING?!?! 

By this time my pulse has gone up, I'm feeling feverish, and I'm hallucinating about burgers with ketchup and mayonnaise and thinking of how I would t-bone a minivan at this point if it meant I was going to get my sandwich.

I got a text about a tornado warning....WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN TO ME?!?!

:insert delay due to trying to survive the cloud apocalypse that followed and then rain crashing into my vehicle with the force enough to take the feathers off of birds that got stuck in the storm:

I like run-on sentences.

Exit again, nothing. Another exit.

Now I'm angry. I'm yelling at the state of Ohio, yelling at the drivers with Ohio license plates, screaming that "They Don't Have Respect for the King" and that "They can't have it their own way because they're communists."

VICTORY! Burger King, next exit.

I pulled into the stupid drive-thru still angry. So angry I didn't even care at this point. It'd been two hours now. So I ordered.....grumpily.

I ate that sandwich bitterly. There was nothing wrong with it, but I felt the state of Ohio had wronged me for making me wait until my stomach had begun to eat itself from the inside out to get what it wanted.

Woe is me.

I naturally fall into a victim mentality when things don't go my way. Why did someone treat me that way, why didn't this situation go as I planned, why do bad things happen to me?

Instead of looking at each instance as a set of events that create one major purpose for my life, I focus on the small instances that don't matter for eternity.

When Christ faced the cross, He didn't want to. He prayed that if possible, God would let some other situation occur where He wouldn't have to die. He was human, He wanted to live. But He ended with, "Not My will, but Thine be done." He strayed away from the victim mentality that we were BORN with, and overcame it by seeing the big picture.

That road trip was one of the best things that's happened to me in a while, and I shouldn't have let something so trivial ruin its ending.

Whether it was a Whopper of a problem or not. ;)