Sunday, October 25, 2009

Secrets of a Pandora Junkie

I love Pandora. For those of you not in the know, Pandora is a wonderful online radio website that allows you to create your own stations based on artists you like ( I have somewhere in the realm of 12 stations, and pride myself in being a connoisseur of great music: John Mayer, Sigur Ros, Ingrid Michaelson, etc. etc. 

Then I was suckered. I don't know when it started, but one day a Miley Cyrus song didn't make me immediately cringe, change the radio station, and grunt something about "teen pop music". Then I began to actually LIKE the song - then to hope that it would be on when I got in the car! I was ashamed. Eight year-olds everywhere idolize this girl. That alone means I should NOT be a fan! One afternoon when preparing dinner while Jeremy was still at work, I couldn't get it out of my head. I needed to hear it. So I stooped WAY low. I created a Miley Cyrus Pandora station. 

I got past the guilt of the situation and was enjoying my time cooking and jamming to Miley and Jonas Brothers, when I heard the garage door raise. I could NOT be caught jamming to such an abomination!! I sprinted to my computer, sliding across the wood floor, just in time to click the "Michael Jackson" station as Jeremy strolled in the door. He was thrilled to find me listening to his favorite station, and I got a big kiss and major props for musical good taste. 

I was a faker. 

Later that evening I felt so guilty for deceiving my husband, that I decided I had to confess. As we climbed into the car, I began "Babe, I have to tell you something. But you have to promise not to think less of me, ok?" A look of slight panic and worry spread across Jeremy's face..... "When you came home earlier, I wasn't really listening to Michael Jackson. I changed it so you wouldn't catch me"..... long pause before I gathered the guts..... "listening to my Miley Cyrus station!!" 

Jeremy laughed so hard he didn't speak for 5 minutes.

So now it's out in the open. I kinda like Miley Cyrus. Just had to write a confession to get it off my chest. 

Don't judge too harshly ;) 

Monday, October 5, 2009


I really need to be grading papers. Like really, really, REALLY (ya, 3 reallys) need to be grading right at this moment. But I've had a thought running through my mind that I feel compelled to share, so I will spare 5 minutes :)

My mind is very musical. This is both a blessing and a curse, because I don't think I'm ever awake without a song in my head. The curse comes in when an absurd song like MC Hammer's "You Can't Touch This" rules my brain for DAYS. The blessing is when something like this happens.

My brain has been playing Ingrid Michaelson's "Breakable" on repeat for a while. Excuse the graphic-ness, but these are the lyrics tumbling around in my brain:

"Have you ever thought about
What protects our hearts?
Just a cage of rib bones
And other various parts.
So it's fairly simple
To cut right through the mess,
And to stop the muscle
That makes us confess.

And we are so fragile
And our cracking bones make noise
And we are just
Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys..."

This skips my mind to Psalm 103... "As for man, his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field; for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more."

Funny thing is I think about this more than I think is normal. I can't help it, I study anatomy. It baffles me that anyone can study the intricacies of our bodies and doubt that there is not only a creative designer of it all, but One who actively continues to make us function!

They say you should never buy washing machines with the fancy computerized buttons, because they're so complicated something's bound to go wrong soon, and it'll cost a bundle to fix it. Instead you're better off with grandma's old crank-the-dial washer, because it's simple and solid as a rock. Our bodies are more complex than millions of expensive-computer-washing-machines put together. Why don't things go wrong more? Why don't hearts stop beating more often when there's so little to protect them? What keeps us from just falling apart at the seams?

This has been mulling in my mind.... breakable...breakable...breakable girls and boys....

I woke up this morning genuinely thankful that the Lord allowed me to keep breathing through the night. Today I'm keenly aware that the only reason my lungs still fill is because He continuously wills them too. My heart still beats because he breathes into it. And for a purpose. He breathes into me for Him. How do I miss this so often?

Tonight the house is quiet - Jeremy's working late and the dog is at my sister's - yet I can hear a complex symphony in the silence. My heart beats rhythmically because it's still in my chest. My lungs fill and empty because the air is still allowed in. My soul flutters and dances and sings a beautiful melody for my Creator and King, because I can't leave out the rest of the verse:

"But the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children, to those who keep His covenant and remember to do His commandments."

Breakable...breakable...breakable girls and boys.... Saved from perishing for a purpose.