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Being the daughter of, and working for the man who wrote a book on marriage titled, “Love and Respect,” has made it impossible to ignore the word respect and what it means to me. I will admit, Ephesians 5:33 is not a passage many of us women jump for joy when reading. “However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband.” Eph. 5:33 I have had to ask myself this question and would …
ru’mi-nate: to chew the cud; to muse; to meditate; to think again; to ponder
In April I attended a writers conference where I ran into a familiar face. I was in Michigan where I grew up and the face was an old friend from college in California. It was like being seven years old again and seeing your second grade teacher at the grocery store. Wait, why are you here? You only belong in front of a chalk board!
I remember the first time I heard Jack Johnson. It was my junior year in high school and I was visiting my brother at Westmont College. We were driving on the 101 just outside of Ventura and he put on a bootleg burned CD of Johnson’s acoustic stuff.
I knew California was going to be different than Michigan, and in terms of music, I think Jack Johnson was my first “cross over” musician.
Last week I heard the little “pop” sound on my computer and realized someone was “chatting me.” It was an old friend who had just recently broken up with his girlfriend. After e-chatting for a bit, I decided to run one of my little theories past him. He resonated with the portion I shared and said I should write it up. So here goes…
Awareness of lower-back pain can be heightened when you have to wait through a couple bands at a concert before the real band goes on stage. Surprisingly I enjoyed and haven’t been able to stop listening to the newest album from the band SeaBird that opened this week for Needtobreathe.
(Kind of a lame band name, but I love them, and I am a loyalist. Needtobreathe for life.)
I wasn’t going to post this “Ask Joy” response because I was really tired when I recorded it and I hope whoever asked the question doesn’t feel like I am un-empathetic…it’s just those lazy eyes that kick in when I am fatigued.