Cornstarch and Cuss Words

Cornstarch and Cuss Words

So our youth group is having a bake sale every Sunday until Jesus comes (or October 8th, whichever) and naturally I had to hit up my “home away from home” in order to do my part in fundraising.
And, because I don’t do anything easy, I needed cornstarch to make a scratch made chocolate meringue pie.
And, because I needed to save 0.49 on the cornstarch that was on the top shelf pushed back to the produce section, I needed my handy helper/spider monkey son to scale the shelving to get it for me.
But, because he couldn’t even reach it, I stepped in and gave him a boost.
And by boost, I mean a slight twist that turned into me feeling every muscle wrap around my hip bone and rip simultaneously.
Um, clean up Aisle 5.
Labor Day took on a whole new meaning for me this year.
I mean, all I really wanted was to sit on my heated toilet seat and wipe my butt pain free.
I hadn’t planned on popping oxycodone from Jason’s recent surgery.
I certainly didn’t plan on him asking me, “Are you stoned?
Nor did I enjoy Cinderella’s “You Don’t Know What You Got, til It’s Gone” to the tune of Poison’s “Every Rose Has It’s Thorn” being on repeat in my head…
maxresdefault Poison
I mean, what’s not to love about 90’s hair bands?

Biofreeze, heating pads, flat backin it, random cuss words were my companions this weekend.
I wish I could be holy and say I claimed healing scriptures over myself and was ready to plead the blood of Jesus over my infirmity.
That’s what I should’ve done.
But sometimes it’s hard.
I mean, school starts, the eclipse, Hurricane Harvey, poor Joel Osteen, the nurse in Utah getting arrested, now Irma…Lort.
Sometimes every negative thing I take into my small mind just gets absorbed in my soul and it’s too much.
And may I say, regardless of how you feel about Joel Osteen…
Here’s my PSA: I’m not responsible for what Jojo does or doesn’t do.
Praise God, as my mamaw Phoebe would say, “You just take care of yourself, and you’ll have plenty to take care of.”
That’ll preach.
Anyway, this weekend of forced rest, ironically falling on “labor day” I couldn’t help but get too far from this simple scripture.
I’m not even carrying heavy burdens.
Everything is really great in my life.
My kids are healthy.
My marriage is amazing.
My parents are alive, involved, and steps from my house.
I have a wonderful job that I truly love to go to every day.
I love my friends.
But sometimes…you get tired.
The working and lunches and meetings and responsibilities and friends and sports and church and, and, and…
Maybe all the stuff in your life is adding up.
And you’re weary.
God showed me this weekend (with the encouragement of my precious husband and pain pills) that it’s okay to rest.
In fact, our Father is calling us to.
He’s the only true rest that can be had.
When everything is great but we’re overwhelmed.
When everything is going wrong and we feel like we can’t catch a break.
When the day to day has run you down.
Simply come to Him.
And rest.


I’m a book-shelving, former tap dancer, wanna be writer, singer, and banjo player, mother of 4, wife of 1, follower of Christ, walking in the shadow of the Proverbs 31 woman and redeemed by the grace and love of an Almighty God… just living the dream.

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