God Bless You Guy...

**I wrote this three years ago...I no longer run, unfortunately, but I saw this post from all those years ago and wanted to share it again...I miss God Bless You Guy...

My friend and I run at 6am, three times a week.  It's early...very, very early.

This is how it goes...

I wake up at 5:40.

I pray that she'll cancel.

I check my phone for texts.

Nothing.

Or, sometimes there's a sweet text saying something like "See you in the morning" or "I'm game to run if you are!"

I put on my running clothes and check my email while I drink some water.

I search high and low for my keys.

I give up and borrow Alex's keys.

I listen to a Christian radio station and sing all the way to our meeting place about 3 miles from my home.

I’m not late, but my friend always beats me.

I hop out of my car and act excited to be running at 6am.  And by act, I mean I'm acting.  

I could win an academy award for all the acting I do at 6am!

We stretch and talk and then I stop acting and I'm actually glad we're running.

It's fun to hang out with a friend first thing in the morning.

Especially a friend that doesn't mind that your hair is frizzy and that your face is covered with pillow creases...but maybe she can't see them in the dim light of pre-dawn.

We finish stretching and head out...chatting as we go.

She runs faster than me so she does more of the talking...I listen.

She must think I'm a very good listener, but really, I'm out of breath because she's running fast.

I'm learning to be a better listener.

About two thirds of the way through our run, I begin to feel like stopping.  I'm tired.

It's right about then that we cross paths with "God Bless You Guy".

He's awesome.

He's an older gentleman who's dressed for work.  I imagine he works in an office.  We think he's walking to the bus stop.  We don't know.  We are running and can't stop to ask.

As we approach him he smiles at us and says in a very cheerful strong voice, "Good Morning ladies!  God bless you!"

We reply:  "Thank you!  You too!"

Then we always say to each other, "He's awesome!"

It's wonderful to receive a blessing so early in the morning when our strength is waning.

We continue on our loop back to our cars.

The run is over and we stretch and chat before we leave.

I say a little prayer of gratitude for "God Bless You Guy" as I drive home.

I wonder if he knows we look forward to seeing him.

A blessing is a wonderful thing to give another person.

It takes very little effort but can mean the world.

"God Bless You Guy" inspires me to be a blessing to those I meet...he reminds me that just a few kind words can give a person the boost they need to keep on going!

Proverbs 16:24

Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body. 

A Day of Fashion-Impairedness Awaredness...

If you're fashion-impaired and you know it hug a zucchini! 😀

The day began with an exchange between my husband and I about what he was wearing.

We don't know what we're talking about when it comes to fashion.

Plain and simple.

The conversation went something like this:


Alex: "Heth, does this color go with this shirt?"

Me: "No"

Alex: "This?"

Me:  "That's better, but..."

Alex:  "How about this, I like this"

Me:  "I don't know"

Alex:  "I'm wearing it"

Me:  "Are you meeting with anyone important today?"

Alex:  "No"

Me:  "Good"

Alex:  "Wait, I don't think this looks right"

Me:  *sigh of relief* "Change the shirt, that's the issue."

Alex:  "Yes, That's much better"

I really don't know if the shirt was indeed the issue or if the pants were the issue. Surely there is SOMETHING that can be worn with that shirt, right?  He's worn it before...

The ironic thing about that morning was that I was preparing to go with my 73-year-old mother to Portland, Oregon to shop..for clothes.

(the reason we shop in Portland is because there's no tax in Oregon, so we save almost 9% right off the top after spending $40 on a tank of gas...I know, I know)

My mother and I were shopping for clothes for our trip to Europe.

One must dress appropriately in Europe as I understood it...

I didn't actually know because I hadn't been there yet.

But I needed boots.  

I don't know how to wear boots or rather, what to wear them with, but we were going in winter, so boots were important.

And pants.

And sweaters.

And a necklace because, don't laugh, I didn't know how to wear necklaces.  

"Put them around your neck" I was told.

It's not that simple when you're fashion impaired.

Trust me.

I'd put them on and they looked all wrong.  

Just wrong, I can't explain it.

The wrong length, the wrong size, the wrong metal color--you name it.  It was that kind of wrong.

So we went.

And knock me down with a feather,

I bought all kinds of cute things and tall boots that zip up and have a cute buckle thing, and a necklace and earrings and sweaters and pants...

Because my 73-year-old mother helped me.

Which, honestly, worried me.

Will I look like a page out of the polyester section of the old Sears catalog?

Had I lost all sense of age appropriate sportswear?

Wait, did I just use the word "sportswear"?

Had I, in fact, turned into my mother?

And did I mention that as I was picking out a sweater and mulling over colors she told me that I don't look good in red...as I stood there staring at her in my red jacket...

I argued with her then...

"What are you saying?  I'm wearing red, I look good in this!"

"Well, not really"

"Seriously?  You're telling me this now?  You let me leave the house in a coat that looks awful on me?"

" ... "

wow mom.

Note to self...tell someone they're wearing a bad color BEFORE they leave the house to go out...

*sigh*

There are worse things to be I suppose...

Fashion impaired is a pretty benign condition in the grand scope of possibilities...

I could be my husband... asking ME for fashion advise...

ha!


p.s. - This was written a couple of years ago and while I still consider myself fashion impaired, I have made great advances in my quest to lose the title.  I have been studying fashion pins on Pinterest...and by studying, I mean, looking at outfits and marveling at the beauty of the choices...the harmony of color and style. And I have to say, I love good fashion...I'm always impressed when people can just DO it, put great looks together and not think twice about it.  I am getting better at it...I really am...and getting dressed is becoming a joy, rather than a really bad guessing game!

A Crown of Glory?

A crown of glory?
A righteous life?
hmmmm....

I went to my second hair appointment in my quest for "au natural".

My hairstylist said, (and I quote), "You will be mostly blonde when you leave here today."
I choked on my own spit.
"Excuse me?"
"Well you want to go gray and you're 98% gray on top of your head."
My inner dialogue uttered words I won't type here...

Here's the thing...
I need to change my attitude.
I associate gray hair with age when, in reality, the two are not necessarily related.
Let's be honest...
If I had never dyed my hair, it would have been "old lady gray" fifteen years ago, when I was FAR from old.
I would have been salt and pepper for most of the past 20 years.
But I did dye my hair...
And now my leap into reality is taking me straight to white.
I'm bypassing gray altogether.
*sigh*

I'm a Pollyanna by nature so let's examine the bright side...
It's an adventure.
It's a leap out of my comfort zone, and it's proving not to be completely uncomfortable (who knew?).
It's a shock (translate: I gasp every time I pass a mirror and realize it's me).
It's a mid-life-crisis-sized change in my appearance, without the crisis!
I get to be blondish for a short time...and from what I hear, that might be fun!

And add to those positive things, Proverbs 16:31.
Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained in a righteous life.
What a nice encouragement...a crown of glory.
The righteous life part still has me scratching my glorious head of graying hair.
I'm far from righteous and I know there are lots of unrighteous gray heads in this world.
As I did some research, though, some commentaries explain that gray hair is counted as gain in a righteous life and is accursed by a wicked man living a long sinful life.
As the gray (white) hair takes over my head, I pray I will live up to the glorious blessing.
I'm thankful that God addressed the "issue" in His Word.
He is so good...

Would any over-dyed ladies like to join me in waving the white flag?
The water's fine...

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