The Prayer of Jabez

This is OLD news, but I was in a craft store yesterday and they had the 'Prayer of Jabez' cross stitch. I hate that prayer...Or, not the prayer itself, but the cult following it seems to have generated. My grandmother has the plaque in her living room, and gave me a copy of the book. Pam and I discussed it when I was in Waco, and came to the same conclusions. Most of the "blessed company" don't like it either. Here it is in all its glory:

And Jabez called on the God of Israel saying,

Oh that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain." I Chronicles 4:10 NIV

(The NKJV translates it as keep me from harming others and causing them pain -- which actually makes the prayer better, in my opinion)

I'm not going to do a major pan here, because I haven't read the book yet. Maybe I'll borrow my sister's copy -- I chucked mine. Marla, did you or the Thinklings take that one on?

Here's the prayer I think should be substituted:

"Two things I ask of you, O Lord;
do not refuse me before I die:
Keep falsehood and lies far from me;
give me neither poverty nor riches; but give me only my daily bread*
Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, 'Who is the LORD?'
Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God."
Proverbs 30:7-9.

Here's the link to what the Thinklings had to say about the Prayer of Jabez. Read the comments too.

*I missed transcribing that line. It's my favorite because it's also in the Lord's Prayer.

"Don't associate with her. She's a social climber." (Spoken with the same inflection as: "Their uncle is in trade, and lives in Cheapside.")

Says the woman sitting with her two standard poodles to her obviously older and slightly infirm husband.

Today is going to be another somewhat stream of conscience entry.

Lent is going by really slowly. I gave up reading anything but my Bible and various commentaries. (Except on Sunday...I'll allow myself some leeway -- last Sunday I spent an hour or two skimming through the "Jane" Sections of C. S. Lewis' Third book in the Space Trilogy. (Oh why is the name escaping me?) He has a lot of insight into the modern woman's views of marriage, and I like to read them. I identify with Jane quite a bit. It helps that she's my age.

Speaking of book characters, I am now older than most of my favorite heroines. I'm older than Anne of Green Gables until she goes off to teach, I'm way older than Jane Eyre, somewhat older than Elizabeth Bennett and Emma Woodhouse. I'm not older than Valancy Stirling (from another L. M. Montgomery Book), but she was an old maid until she turned thirty. It's a shock to re-read your favorite books and feel ancient! I'm also older than every girl in every musical I'll ever do...Except maybe Eliza Doolittle. I think they say she's twenty five.

That Hideous Strength. That's Lewis' third book.

My sister is happily situated in her new place. I've been by every other day or so to hang out. Last night she and one of her landlord's daughters helped me turtlewax my car. It looks so nice now! And slippery. I keep losing hold of the door handles. We then watched "Return to Me." I didn't like that movie the first time I watched it, but its growing on me. It seemed to be missing something. I love the old guys. They make the film. My thought after last night was, She flies all the way to Rome to stay for less than a week?

My friend is very upset today. Her daughter is leaving for college next fall. Recently my friend has been beside herself because her daughter is up in arms about being treated "like an adult," but still wants to live at home and have her parents pay for everything, and watch her dog when she goes to visit her boyfriend out of town. She left town this week, skipping school and missing work, and my friend's husband said that she needed to either come home, or move out. She's opted to move. My friend is very upset, and her husband is upset. They both want to do the right thing, and they want their daughter to become a mature adult. Keep them in your prayers as their house is in turmoil.

Oh, and I have to sing the praises of my beyond-friends, Pam and Ken in Waco, who spent several days sorting my stuff, drying it, and putting it back together again. I don't know what I would have done without them there, as the "faithful stewards" of my meager possessions. I owe them about four days of labor, several tanks of gas, and at least one dinner for two. I know "stuff" isn't that important, but if I ever have a stable life again, I'd like to gather my few things around myself. I was most worried about my scrapbooks -- the only irreplaceable things in the whole unit -- but thanks to their foresight, they were wrapped in plastic trash bags and escaped any damage. Thank you Thank you Thank you. Anyone who lives in Texas and wants stay at the best bed and breakfast in the world with the nicest owners, go to Valley Vista Bed and Breakfast in Valley Mills. I've stayed there myself, and it's a log cabin with a great view of Hill Country Texas. There's my plug. But really, Pam and Ken are the best people (Ken is so nice he endured six hours of Pride and Prejudice the last time I was in town...And Pam is always kind enough to humor my endless opinions on every subject, and then get me to actually look at what I think I'm saying. I guess you'd have to have been there for our three hour talk about marriage.), and founding members of "The Blessed Company."

Golden hour has hit. Everything is so pretty! It was 90 here today--unseasonably hot. I don't own anything except for work clothes anymore. I may have to go find a sundress or something for the few hours I'm not in a suit, or a tacky hoe-down cocktail outfit. Circle skirts and western shirts may look alright on some, but they make the petite look shorter and dumpy. Blargh. They are changing out uniforms soon...To different blouses and western skirts...

So that's all I can think of today.

I was reading a little more of William Barclay's Commentary today at lunch. I bought two new ones at a book sale at a local church...so I'm now working my way through the letters of John, Jude, Peter, and James. I came across this quote, "A man's own character will necessarily be necessarily determined by the character of the god whom he worships."

What does "my" god look like to other people, and how does "my" god affect my own life. In the Bible I find a God (old testament and new) that goes out of his way to find people, go where they are, and bring him back into relationship with Him. I often feel that I'm running around in circles trying to find him with little measurable success. I often fear a god who doesn't want me, and stands back with his arms folded waiting for me to mess up so he can guilt me into knowing how horrible I am, and how far away from his standard. God has told me that he will help me with my weaknesss, supplying me with his own strength to overcome them, or using them to let himself shine through.

There's hope. The more I read of my Bible, and talk to mature Christians, the more I'm able to see who God really is, and how far off this god is in my head. It takes a concerted effort each time to push away that god, and remind myself who God has revealed himself to be. Maybe I'll never "feel" God's love or forgiveness on a regular basis, but I'll be able be able to trust that he has given it. And I hope that the other god will someday get out of my head...

I made a bet with my manager last night. If the bartenders think that we're the supurfluous ones, bring on two cocktail waitresses on a moderate night and let us do both -- run the restaurant and the bar. Two of us are trained as bartenders. Not to shove it in their faces or anything, but it gets a little old having the bartenders act as if we're bothing them to get drinks made. Last time I checked, that was their job!

Lots of random thoughts going through my head....My storage unit in Waco had a water main break under it. Luckily my unit was on the uphill side and only got an inch of water. My boxes got wet, and all of my custom framed art is ruined, but my furniture seems to have escaped damage. My loveseat is on castors and didn't get wet at all (Good thing too, it's from 1840). Adrian and the Scobells spent hours over there yesterday pulling stuff out of the water and taking it home to be washed, dried, opened, spread out and ironed (in the case of whatever art they can save). I'm petitioning for a month's rent free at least, and I'm starting a letter campaign to get reimbursed for the artwork. Custom framing is expensive. I'm not sure what the talley was last night, but I think its edging around $1,000. My diplomas and high school letter shadowbox are in bad shape, and my needlework is wet ... the stretching and framing of that piece alone was $250.

Rich people (as a gross overgeneralization) stink. We had a group of three dozen lawyers in last night. They had a private party in the bar. No one wanted to wait in line for a drink, so they'd shove their way up to the front and talk to the bartender like he was 1)stupid, and 2) hard of hearing. Then the leader came to me. The hors-deuvres toothpicks weren't "working" for him. I told him it was finger food anyway, and was probably ok to be uncouth. He wasn't alright with using his hands, so I had to go find some silverware. The leader's wife ventured into the dining room to check out their tables. There were a couple of kids with their parents at the two tables near them. Older children. Like 14. "What are they doing here? WE had the decency to farm our kids out so no one would be bothered by them (including themselves I'd imagine) Well, how much longer are they going to be eating? Can you hurry them along a little?" Oh yes. She was a charmer. Another table of them, once they'd finished in the bar, went through 8 bottles of wine. They stayed until almost 11. Then they wanted after dinner drink, "What do you have? What kind of port? Which is the dryest (usually the oldest is a safe bet. More of the sugar has converted to alcohol)?" Being the dutiful waitress I am, I went into the bar and tasted all the ports with the bartender to make sure we found the dryest one. The other table saw the first table's drinks and decided they wanted some too. It took me forever to get to Wendy's house for daquiris. After a night like that, we both needed one.

Speaking of strange but true, a friend of mine works at a restaurant in the daytime. The last few weeks, everytime she goes into work she's been instantly angry. She's in a great mood on her way there, and when she walks in the door, poof. She went into work a few days ago, and there was a lady, in the kitchen, swinging a crystal over the bread counter where the cooks were working. She was muttering to herself. My friend went into the dining room to call a manager. The lady came into the dining room, and began walking around the room, swinging the crystal and muttering some more. Then she pulled out a forked divining rod and waved it around the room. My friend couldn't take it anymore and asked her what she was doing. The woman looked up and over my friend's head, eyes kind of unfocused. "I'm searching for negative energy. It's what I do. It's my gift." She had been hired by the restaurant to "search out the bad mojo." The place isn't doing as well as the owner hoped. My friend had to go get a cup of coffee to chill out enough to work. Welcome to California!

Eight days until payday again. Hours are so slow. This pay period I'm living off rice, beans, granola, and dried apricots. And lots of water bottles. I found a britta at the thrift shop a couple of weeks ago. I just keep refilling... I'm not starving, of course. Not really. But I am getting tired of granola. And I'm just not very proficient at cooking beans by microwave. I haven't figure out the pre-soaking. Wild rice takes forever to cook. Did you know that? I'd always done minute-rice. Wendy gets mad because I don't come steal food at her place. I'm getting very creative at eating work-approved leftovers: the last of the bar hors deuvres, a bowl of soup before they dump the pots, a take-home meal at the end of the night (two meals there), the last three pieces off cheese and one decimated grape cluster off the wine and cheese platter. And if I'm really in the mood to splurge, and get off my first job in time, I'll go have a meal in the Employee dining room. I know those meals come out of my next paycheck, but sometimes a girl needs meat. I made the mistake of eating the rich leftovers of the lawyer group last night, and a bowl of heavy-cream based clam chowder. After almost a month of a no fat, almost no meat diet, it just about did me in. I have to credit God with the happy coincidence that landed Mary Hunt's "The financially confident Woman" book in my lap. If I hadn't stumbled across that book in the church library on finances I would have no idea how much money I have, how to manage it, stay within budget, and not depend on credit cards when money gets tight. And God isn't without mercy. Somehow, about the time I'm getting really really tired of granola, and would kill for something that isn't bulk and from the health store, someone will tip me just enough for a little splurge...a cheeseburger, or a pepsi. A tiny splurge keeps you from getting too discouraged. And spring break is near! One more week of slow, maybe two...then the money will be rolling in! And rolling back out. Still have those pesky student loans....

Something happy, something happy. My ledger has balanced to the penny three months in a row. How's that for impressive. I haven't bounced anything even as close to the edge as I've been these last few months, because I know where everything is and where it's going! No small victory for any of you who know where I was during college. Darn irresponsibility bighting me in the behind.

Two more auditions in the next three weeks. One for a cruise line, and one for Disney. How would you feel if I blogged from, say, Tokyo?

Final Score: Rachel 3, Cat 1

Victory! The cat didn't get up this morning until I did. But because I wasn't up with the cat, I overslept.

The only greatness to which a Christian can inspire is that of being the slave of God.
~William Barclay~

My blind date.

Ha. And you guys thought I was actually going to post something. Not a chance given the discovery that people can find me through my blog. I will say this though...he's very tall, attractive, literate, and has travelled a lot. How's that for a tease?

Score: Rachel 3, Cat:0

I think Cai is finally getting the picture. He mewed, he scratched, but with far less protest than the previous mornings. I might actually get a decent night's sleep in a few days.