bipolar mom shares her insights on everyday life

Posts tagged ‘Sunday School’

Three Things Part III (at least)

Today, I’m having a kind of “blech” day.  Woke up that way.  Hate it.  So, rather than focus on what is wrong, why I feel this way, I thought I’d go back to the Three Things Lists.

Three Things I Don’t Like

  1. There is no weight loss program named a Carbs Only Diet.
  2. The St. Louis Bread Co. across from church on Olive.  Never seem to get the orders “quite right.”
  3. Non-stick skillets that lose their non-stickiness.

Three Things I Like:

  1. Sleeping with the windows open and the fan on.
  2. The Beatles
  3. Teaching Sunday School, hearing the kids laughing, and seeing their big smiles
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Thanks. (I think.)

Many times it is obvious when you should say, “Thank you!”  For example, when someone opens a door for you.  If you don’t, the considerate person may actually shout out, “You’re welcome, Your Majesty!”  (I don’t think I have to point out that when the doors are automatic, you don’t have to thank anyone.  You may feel like a Jedi, though.)  Sometimes, however, a statement that is meant to be a compliment, it may make you raise one eyebrow in confusion.

Yesterday, I taught the middle school Sunday School class.  We had roughly twelve in the class, and they were awesome!  I loved every minute of it.  We were discussing friends, and what the Bible says about friendships.  I did ask them what the word, “adversity” meant.  When they didn’t know, I grinned, and sang, “Are you smarter than a 42-year-old?”  They laughed and I explained the meaning.  Then later, the kids would read the Bible verses aloud, and I would forget the beginning part, or the ending, and I would say, “Well, I am guessing your memory is better than a 42-year-old’s!”

At the end of class, one of the students said, “Mrs. Farmer, you don’t look middle-aged!”  Woah.  Middle-aged?!?!?  I don’t feel middle-aged.  Am I really “middle aged?”  Well, I guess if I make it to age 84, I am.  I am planning on making it past that, but if you make it to 84, people do tend to think, “She had a good, long life.” 

So, while I massage my arthritic knees and drink my prune juice, I guess I’d better start looking for a nice long-term care facility.

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