Viva Las Vegas

We are headed to Vegas today for the Hubby’s business trip.  In fact, I’m typing this from the airplane, but won’t post it until we are in the hotel.  All the kiddos are hanging with MawMaw this weekend, and I suppose are already at the zoo visiting Nikita the polar bear.  Monkey seemed a little unhappy that we were leaving him, but that lasted only as long as it took us to get in the car and back out of the driveway.  He was blowing kisses, complete with the full Mwuuu-ah that I so adore.  He’ll likely be fine until bedtime; hopefully MawMaw will remember the proper evening routine, and he’ll get get his 3 books, the “snug as a bug in a rug,’” his goodnight kiss, and Sampson’s goodnight kiss as well.  (For those of you wondering, Sampson is his teddy bear... and he requires the same evening routine as Monkey, sans bath.)  

Tonight’s activities include dinner with one of Hubby’s business partners and wife, and then it is off to see the Elvis Cirque du Soleil show.  Very “uptown” according to the Hubs.  I am looking forward to the alone time with him, even if it is sprinkled with some business.  

This is my third trip to Vegas.  Hubs was concerned how I would possibly be entertained, especially since tomorrow he will be working throughout the day.  I’m not a drinker, I don’t gamble, and it is, after all, Vegas.  :-)  There is plenty to do that doesn’t include debauchery, I say.  The people-watching alone will entertain me for hours on end.  I get an endless kick out of the brides in their full wedding regalia battling it out with the one-armed bandits.  I chuckle at the grandmas loaded down with their good luck charms and fighting over “their” machines.  

I never cease to be amazed by the varied temperaments you can see in the casinos.  On my last trip to Vegas, my friend and I tried to go outside for a little fresh air in between meetings, and we somehow ended up in the garage area where the tour buses drop off and pick up the hotel guests.  It was there that we witnessed the most spectacular fight between a bus driver and a guest.  This particular guest was riding a scooter due to her size, and was heading down the handicapped ramp are a rapid pace.  There was a blind gentleman (and I stress the word gentleman, because had I been he, someone may have been whacked with my cane) trying to make his way down the ramp.  He was moving cautiously, because he was obviously not accustomed to this very long ramp and its many turns.  As I was saying, Scooter Lady came tearing down the ramp, and clearly didn’t want to wait for the gentleman to get out of her way.  Her scooter was equipped with a VERY loud horn, and she began beeping and yelling at him to “MOVE!”  He barely escaped her, but she obviously had other things on her mind... like the bus driver at the very end of the ramp that was siting on one rail with his feet on the rail across from him.  I must pause here to explain that this ramp was super long, and that it was set up much like a line for a ride at an amusement park.  Walk, turn, walk, turn, walk, turn.  The poor bus driver was several hundred feet away, and had ample time to move.  That didn’t stop Scooter Lady from bellowing at him to “Get the bleeeeeep out of my way!  Move it, Mister... I’m HANDICAPPED!!”  He didn’t snap to attention, because I’m sure, much like my friend and myself, he was pretty shocked that she had just nearly taken out this blind gentleman all the while wailing on about HER handicap.  His seeming lack of concern for the Scooter Lady’s handicap caused her to lose it...and I don’t mean a little bit.  She’s cursing and screaming that he had better get out of her way.  The ramp is for the handicapped, which SHE happens to be, not for lazy bleep bleep bleeps who are trying to put their feet up.  Everyone else may have been stunned speechless, but not Mr. Bus Driver, who had apparently had about enough of guests being rude to him.  He started yelling back at her, and told her he would move when she was close, but he wasn’t hurting anyone and she could just shut her extraordinarily loud mouth.  They had some fantastic back and forth which only escalated when he loudly called her the ‘B‘ word and then jumped down in the bus lane where she couldn’t follow him and disappeared.  My friend and I were there, mouths agape, when she yelled at him that he’d better get back up there and give him her name so she could turn him in.  She then began screaming bloody murder at anyone in her path that bore a slight resemblance to anyone that could possibly be a bus driver.    I’ll admit, calling her the ‘B’ word was way out of line... but anyone witnessing the event could certainly feel his pain.  We hung around just a little longer to see if anymore drama would ensue, but she ended up on a bus.  We did see the bus driver poke his head from between 2 buses in the back with a big grin on his face before we had to head back into our meeting.  Like I said... there’s always something to do in Vegas!

I’m still shocked that Hubs, who travels to Vegas on business at least once a year has never been to the Bellagio.  He explained that he’s not a chick, and has always travelled there for business, not romance, so there was no need to go see a bunch of fountains.  “But it is GORGEous!” is always my reply.  This trip, he’s going.  It helps that our hotel (we’re staying at the new Aria) is right by the Bellagio... so I won’t have to drag him kicking and screaming very far at all.  

*Sidenote*  The lady in front of me is watching Toy Story 3, and I have to say... I’m a wee bit jealous.  I failed to grab a magazine for this flight, and even though I remembered my lovely Mac, I didn’t remember that it has a DVD player, so didn’t bring any movies.  I haven’t seen Toy Story 3, and I’m afraid that will have to be remedied very shortly.  I have a toddler; I can totally justify the purchase.  

Alright, this post is already ridiculously long... so I’ll wrap it up.  I’m sure I’ve sufficiently bored anyone who may be reading my flight ramblings anyway.  Maybe I’ll take a little nap....

Confessions

God's been speaking to me a lot the past couple of weeks, but I have struggled with what to write because everything seemed a little too personal.  It was personal, not in the sense that it was private... more that it was personal because it was touching so many raw nerves because I was in the wrong.  Accountability is such a necessity, especially among believers... but that doesn't mean we enjoy seeing our faults under a microscope.  Sometimes, we would really rather sweep them under the rug and pretend they don't exist...or is that just me?

I'm involved in a women's Bible study at my church.  We are currently doing Beth Moore's study called "A Woman's Heart: God's Dwelling Place."  It is a study about the Temple.  It sounded intriguing when I signed up, but I have to tell you... it has been a real struggle for me.  It is intriguing... but it is HARD.  The daily homework is difficult, and it requires a lot more time that the studies I've done in the past.  Not only that, but anything that could interfere with me getting the lessons completed, has.  First, Monkey had a nasty case of croup.  Then, due to his recent insistence on lots of kisses, and his failure to always close his mouth as he comes in for said kisses, resulted in me getting his hacking cough.  My hacking cough turned into a mild case of pneumonia.  By the time my antibiotics kicked in, he came down with yet another case of croup, albeit a milder one.  Now he's getting more teeth, and the snot abounds... as does the biting, and general crankiness of a teething toddler.  Snow days, sickness, exhaustion, doctor visits, technical difficulties with the video portion of the study...you name it, it has happened.  Homework got behind, messages got lost, and to be honest, I didn't even want to do the study any more.

Prior to last week's group session, I bit the bullet, and got my homework done.  I walked into the meeting room thinking I really hadn't taken away anything from all that work.  I didn't get it.  Studying the detailed instruction on how the temple was to be constructed, from the brazen altar, to the lampstand, to the basin, to the golden altar... it's good information to know... but what in the world was He trying to tell me?  I felt stupid, which is not a feeling I relish, and I just was ready to call it quits.  I prayed at the beginning of each session for God to speak to me through this study, just like I'm supposed to, and I just felt like He wasn't.  I haven't experienced such silence from Him, especially not when I'm studying His Word.  I have always walked away with something new, which, no matter how many times I've read certain scriptures, never ceases to amaze me.  What was the deal??

We had two video sessions that week, to make up for the technical difficulties of the week before.   Midway through the first session, it started to make sense just why so many of us seemed under attack throughout this study.  The lesson was on the symbolism behind the materials used within the temple.  The brazen alter was made of acacia wood, and then overlaid with bronze.  It is the alter where sin sacrifices were made.  As we spoke of the wood, the verses in John (and please forgive me, because my Bible is not next to me, and the actual verse escapes me) where we learn about branches being pruned were referenced.  He cuts away the branches that don't bear fruit, and they are thrown into the fire, but here's what I somehow missed before... he also prunes the branches that are bearing fruit, so they'll produce more good fruit.  I've probably read that verse a hundred times.  Beth Moore talked about how, as women, we will hold onto those branches till there are splinters in our hands, trying to keep them as they are... refusing to be pruned.  If we're producing fruit, then hey, leave those branches to me.  Why is it that we are so willing to let God have the stuff we don't want anymore, and so UNwilling to let Him have everything?  Is He sovereign, or isn't He?

I have a control issue, which I'm sure is shocking to everyone that knows me.  (That's sarcasm, people.)  I don't like to relinquish control to anyone, and sadly, that has included God.  I can go to God with the super big stuff. The stuff that no mere mortal can manage... that is all His.  I can lay those things at His feet, and have faith that He will manage it.  Why does it seem to take so much more faith to let Him have every other little bit, the good and the bad alike?  Why do I hesitate to talk to Him about the mundane detail of my every waking moment?  He knows the number of hairs on my head; do I really think I'm sneaking stuff past Him?  If I really believed His word, every part of it, I would be on my knees, broken before Him, every single chance I got.  Ouch.  The sin of prayerlessness... I know, and have always known that my prayer life is a huge part of my relationship with God.  The Bible says I should pray without ceasing, but did I ever acknowledge that not praying was a sin?  Did I ever confess that sin?  Have I ever looked at it in that light?  I know that I have a peace when my prayer life is as it should be, but did I ever realize that maybe it isn't about me?  That maybe it pains Him when I don't trust Him with the minutia of my life?  Don't get me wrong, being in communion with Him will always result in blessings, but if that if the only reason you're praying, well... you're missing the point.

I left last week broken, and needing to confess so many things to Him.  I was excited to get back to the homework, excited to hear what else He had to tell me.  Before I knew it though, I was right back in my rut.  Like the Israelites before me, I am a ssslllloooooooooooooooow learner.   I make the same mistakes over, and over, and over again.  Just to drive home the point, towards the end of this week's homework, (which I put off until right before our group meeting this morning) there was a lesson about Jesus being our intercessor.  He wants to intercede for us.  When I don't ask, He doesn't intercede.  Well, duh.  He wants to intercede for us... His death and resurrection was the final sacrifice, and His holiness is what allows us to speak directly to the Father, because His blood covers our sin.

My sin is great.  It is huge.  I have "been in the pit" as Beth Moore so often says.  Heck, I've dwelled there for giant portions of my life... but guess what?   I am forgiven, and not believing that He has forgiven me, despite my tremendous lack of worth, is a slap in the face to the Father.  What more does He have to do for me to get it, for me to have faith that what He promised, He fulfilled?  Trust me when I tell you, I have a lot to confess.  I have a lot to repent.  This will take some time, to go through all of this muck and lay it at the feet of the Savior.  I'd better start now... there's no time to waste.  Thank heavens for His grace.

One last thing... today we were talking about Moses, Aaron, and Hur.  During the battle with the Amalekites, as long as Moses' arms were holding up his staff, the people of Israel prevailed.  When he lowered his arms, the Amalekites would start to win.  Aaron and Hur helped hold up his arms when he grew weary so that the Israelites could win the battle.  God could have given Moses supernatural strength so that he could do it on his own... but that wasn't the point.  You need the support of your fellow believers.  One of the study questions was asking who our support was.  I am blessed to have a husband who holds me up.  I am blessed to have a family who supports me...even more blessed that they are a family that I wasn't born into, but have grafted me in much like Gentile believers have been grafted in to God's chosen people.  That being said, I have gained a new support system as I go through this study.  To the ladies I have come to love during this study, thank you for being my Aaron and Hur.  It has meant more than you could know.