Unjustified Justification

I have a hyper-sensitivity to criticism. I really hate it.

I know that people say that you just have to let that stuff go. I agree. But I'm really bad at that. I mean, Epic Fail bad.

Here's my usual process when some says or does something really hurtful: First I spend awhile being offended and hurt. Then I try to be practical and evaluate whether there's any truth in what's been said. But the part that annoys me the most is that even if I determine rationally that the person is wrong, I can't seem to let go. I play over and over in my mind what I would like to say. Basically, how I would defend myself.

This compulsive need to justify myself is sinful. I know. It boils down to pride. I want to prove myself right, even when the rest of the world has moved on. I would totally go up to someone and present a defense for something I did or said in 8th grade if I thought they wouldn't think I was insane.

Sometimes I try to remind myself of what a great example Jesus was for us in this area. If anyone had a reason to justify themselves, it was Jesus. There he was- left his THRONE in HEAVEN to try to talk some sense into HIS CREATION during the brief years before the KILLED him. He spoke in parables specifically so that not everyone could understand. He wasn't at all concerned about his image. Didn't care if the aristocracy thought he was crazy or ridiculous, or worse yet, a heretic.

And he knew what was on the line. Jesus invited a poor reputation and we can only assume that was because he didn't care what people thought about him. He knew that the truth seekers would find the truth. And by his own words and actions, it seems that Jesus didn't allow himself the luxury of concerning himself with everyone else. He left it at that.

Oh, that I could learn this skill from my Jesus. It's not my job to assure that everyone understands me and my thoughts and my actions and my motives. Nor is it my job to understand everyone else's thoughts, actions, or motives.

It's my job to be faithful. To do justly and love mercy and to walk humbly with my God.

Waiting for the Beeping

I am sitting at my computer in the spare room in my workout clothes. It's 8:50 on a Saturday morning. I'm waiting for the gas tank truck to come beeping past my house. I was going to do a yogalates video (I know, right? If you're a girl, that's a cross between pilates and yoga; if you're a boy, it's an exercise video) first thing so that I can get in my third workout this week and so that I can put my workout clothes in with my weekly load of laundry.

But then I was awakened this morning by the beeping of the gas tank truck and THAT reminded me that I need a refill and I can't start the video until I get the refill, because otherwise I have to interrupt my workout to run frantically from my living room (in the back of the apartment) to the bedroom (in the front of the apartment) to wave them down, which isn't always effective in getting the driver's attention but IS always effective in making me on edge the whole workout, straining to hear the tell-tale beeping.

So, again, here I am at my computer, telling you, O Mysterious Cyberspace Blog Reader, the mundane details of my life; listening to "Then" by Brad Paisley; thinking about making oatmeal for breakfast when I get to that point in my morning (gas refill; workout; shower including cleaning the shower for the first time in forever while I'm in there; start laundry; THEN I get breakfast) and listening for the beeps.

In other news, last night I had a Diet Dr. Pepper. It was really wonderful. DDP is my all-time favorite drink in the world. And as you no doubt know, such things become more significant when one is being deprived of them. In all of my travels I have only twice ever seen a DDP outside of the confines of North America. Strangely enough, the first time was in a small cafe in Cambodia, of all places. It was run by a North American and though I don't recall the details of why they chose to import that particular drink, I do recall quite vividly my abounding joy as I partook.

The other time was at a party I attended at the home of the American ambassador to Ecuador during my first month in Quito. Lest you overestimate my political importance, let me assure you that said party was a potluck for the newly-arrived Americans in Quito. I thought it was ironic that at this US embassy party, we had to pay for the drinks and bring a dish to share. But hey, whatever. I likes me a good potluck. And it was a small price to pay for some DDP.

I hear beeping...

Random Thoughts Since My Life Isn't Currently Producing Blog-Worthy Material

-A hummingbird buzzed by my head while I was hiking with the 7th grade in Mindo, Ecuador. It sounded like a mini-helicopter right by my ear. I could feel the breeze from his little tiny wings. It was the coolest interaction I've had with nature in a long time.

-My microwave died and I've been making do without one. Tonight I wanted to heat up some milk for hot chocolate, so I put the milk into a bowl to heat in my toaster oven (because the mug is too tall to fit in). Then when it was hot, I proceeded to spill hot milk all over my counter as I tried to pour the milk from the bowl into the mug. I did not cry.

-This weekend I attended the wedding of a friend and coworker. It was really nice. I've decided that one of the most pressing reasons that I want to get married is so that I can no longer be forced to stand up with the other single women for the bouquet toss. Worst. Tradition. Ever.

[Editor's Note: in the bride's defense, she tried to change the tradition and offered the bouquet to whomever could answer a trivia question first, but none of us could, so she resorted to the toss]

-I tried out a new recipe Friday for per nil pork in the crock pot. I got it all ready and turned it on low before I left for school. I was a little concerned that there might not be enough liquid, but double-checked the recipe and I'd followed it correctly. After school I returned to a heavenly smell in my house, but found small, charred, black hockey-pucks where I had left boneless pork chops a few hours earlier. It was sad. I had to make spaghetti for my guests instead.

And this brings us to the end of my random thoughts for the evening. Over-n-out.