Flushin' Float

"Now when He was in Jerusalem at the Passover, during the feast, many believed in his name when they saw the signs which He did. But Jesus did not commit Himself to them, because He knew all men, and had no need that anyone should testify of man, for He knew what was in man." John 2:23-25


I’ve never quite understood exactly what the above verses mean, though I’ve heard people offer explanations a time or two. Lately I’ve been thinking about commitment–the risk involved, of being hurt, etc. But I don’t know how this could play into these verses, if at all.

The week was extremely busy and really hasn’t let up even now. I’m just taking a mowing break to get a little something to eat. I realized around 3:00 that I hadn’t eaten anything yet today, so I had some leftover meatloaf and potatoes and some of the pineapple upside down cake I finally made last night. I really should be at the school working in my classroom–Tim said he’d go and help me work there this weekend–but there are things to be done here, too. Time is running out now, and my list of things-to-do is getting longer. It could take two weeks just to get ready for school, and that’s just one of the things that has to be done.

Thursday night, we went to the William Carey College Dinner Theatre for "Some Enchanted Evening", a musical revue of the songs of Rodgers and Hammerstein. The Carey theatre department is really very good, and we try to go to their productions as often as we can. Sometimes in the summer I go for days at a time without getting dressed, and when I have to finally do it, I blow the task out of all proportion. It takes me hours to settle on an outfit. I finally chose one and put it out on the bed before getting in the tub, and when I got out Lizzie had played in it and left a greasy spot from the Town House crackers she was eating. Hannah, my fashion consultant, vetoed the second outfit, which I thought looked really good, actually-- a white cotton skirt with pink and maroon flowers and a white shirt that tied at the waist. She gave her seal of approval to the third one–beige sweater, beige skirt with orange and pink flowers-- but I asked Tim anyway. Great, he said. You look great. So I asked him if he would say that even if he really didn’t think the outfit looked good on me. He admitted that he would not tell me if he thought the outfit wasn’t right for me. Obviously I won’t be able to ask his opinion of my attire.

I just took an IQ test and I only got 75% of the questions right. I guess I could blame it on the fact that I’ve pushed a mower all day in 95 degree heat, but really those questions were just extremely difficult. If Grady, Bill, Clyde, Joey, and Butch are all standing in a line left to right, and if Butch is third in line but is not standing by Joey or Grady. . . Well, after a few of those, I just guessed. It’s my lowest score yet, and it makes me mad enough to maybe attack the Mensa test sometime this weekend. The summer’s almost over, so I can’t put it off much longer.

Yesterday, I was reading a book and came across the term "Milquetoast". I’ve always heard that used, but never knew its origin so I looked it up. (I’m trying to do better at keeping a notebook with me when I read to write down things I want to look into, or things I notice or wonder about, lines I’d like to remember, and mostly the author’s use of words or terms.) Anyway, it seems Caspar Milquetoast was a comic-strip character with a timid, unassertive nature. Now I know.

I wonder when Lizzie will get over the wreck we had back in January. Every time we go somewhere on a rainy day, she’s a nervous wreck. Yesterday we went to Hattiesburg–it was storming, as it has done here almost every day this summer–and she kept saying, "Who’s going to keep me safe?" We did see a wreck, a car that had lost control and crashed in the median, and that made her cry again. After she calmed down a bit, she asked "Is this a flushin’ float?" I couldn’t figure out what in the world she meant, but finally realized she was trying to say "flash flood". We’ve been watching the weather channel a lot lately and she must’ve heard it there. She does say a lot of funny things. Our pool has algae in it right now, and she keeps asking if the "allergy" is still in the pool. It’s terrible timing, too, because she just had started jumping off the diving board by herself with nobody waiting at the bottom to catch her. She was never timid in the water until this year. I don’t know why, but it has taken her until now to get comfortable in the deep end.

Lizzie will go to school this year, and I am having a big problem with it emotionally. Mama and Daddy send school money to all their grandchildren every year, and this year Lizzie got an envelope, too. It came in the mail today, and I teared up when I got it out of the mailbox. We bought her nap mat yesterday and some school clothes. She’s still my baby.

This morning Tim and I were reading in the living room while the girls were still in bed. He was reading some parables, and I was reading about Rehoboam and Jeroboam and while he was talking to me about the dispersion and the synagogues, an incredibly intense feeling washed over me that I can’t begin to describe. It’s a feeling I’ve been having for years, but the last few weeks it’s been coming more frequently and it’s almost to the point of being physically painful, yet it is a nice feeling. I almost don’t even want to try to name it because I don’t want to use a word that has ever been used before. It’s too good to use a second-hand word for. It’s contentment, satisfaction, peace, love, joy all knit together, as the four of us are knit together. And it’s good to the point of being physically painful.