Princess Cough-A-Lot

(Disclaimer! This is not a serious post, and I'm sure you need a good laugh just as much as I do. Please do not be offended.)

I hate coughing.

It sounds so gross. Especially when you... well, I'm not going to get into the nasty details, you know what I mean.

I wonder if Jesus got sick when He was alive. Did He get the sniffles or have a coughing fit in the middle of bible class (like I did in my Diagnostics class... sorry girls!)? Or when He sneezed, did He say in his reverend, Southern-Baptist-like voice, "I Bless Me"? (The voice I hear in my head sounds like Louis Armstrong and Jafar mixed together.) As awful as this sounds, I can see Him walking alongside His donkey, barefoot, and all of a sudden a dust cloud comes in from Egypt (Pharaoh's always trying to stir up trouble with his crazy false gods, accordingly named god dust-in-the-wind [too bad he wasn't from Kansas] and peek-a-choo, [because he peeks around the pyramids and blows dust over to Jesus to make him sneeze. You know why the Red Sea parted? Because god peek-a-choo blew].

So as Jesus is walking along, minding his own business, when love came and hit him.. oh sorry, I was listening to "Orange Colored Sky" by Michael Bublé. Speaking of Mr. MB, he is no Frank Sinatra. I don't care how gorgeous people say he is, but he looks like Matt Dillon and Matthew Morrison had a love-child and Justin Timberlake wanted to join in on the fun.

So here is Jesus, talking to his Daddy telling him about his day, a dust cloud makes its way into his nose and he sneezes. Does he pull a Kevin Bacon and "jump back" like I do? Or, does he levitate and say, "Oh Dear... me." (haha) and have to descend himself down? Maybe the angels bring him a pure white tissue made from the lamb they just sacrificed up in Heaven. My problem is that whenever I sneeze, I tend to say certain words. Mine kinda comes out like "sacrebleu"; Lumiere would be proud. Sometimes those words kinda sound like a curse word, which is bad. So then I feel bad because I inadvertently said a curse word while trying to force the little demons of a sneeze out of my nose. I heard that in some culture a long time ago, if you sneeze, it was because you were trying to get rid of a demon that was in your body, so you sneezed or coughed him out. I just wish that I could do the same for the demon that appears once a month. She's not the least bit nice to me at all, and instead of taking her aggression out on Eve, because we all know she's long gone, us females have to suffer things like that and childbirth.

That's another thing. I was talking to a close friend who was (rightfully) complaining that her son (still in the easy bake oven) was wrapping his feet or hands or something around her false ribs. Owie. I would smack the little twit if that was me.... well, maybe not. I mean, he really doesn't know better, right? Yeah. Because boys are simply angels. Pshh.. my star-spangled banner tushy. They're as much of an angel as they're foreheads are shiny. Okay, bad example. If they are truly a boy, they're all gross and sweaty and that causes their foreheads to be shiny. So maybe shiny like a bald head. Haha. Whoever thought that was a good idea should have forgotten it. They look like something that I cannot say in this blog, so I will let you have the endless imagination of playing the guessing game. Bald-headed men remind me of Mario Batali, with their chef hats, chef jacket, pants, and bright orange crocs. No man should be seen in bright orange crocs.

Who thought of crocs?

Because I am bored, I looked it up. You're welcome.

According to the very reliable (ha!) source of Wikipedia, crocs were invented by George B. Boedecker, Jr. They were originally intended as spa shoes. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure that I would not enjoy being pampered just to slip into a plastic/rubber hybrid and accidentally slip on something. They are not comfortable (people lie) and they are not well insulated (my feet rarely sweat). I would much rather prefer those little bunny slippers.

This is what I get for being sick. My mind goes into overdrive and somehow correlates Jesus to Michael Buble to childbirth to crocs. Talk about random.

Wanna hear a joke? Okay, ... read a joke?

Why did the chicken cross the road?

Give up?

I don't think you did.

But I'll tell you anyway.

It was because he had a cough that he got from Princess Cough-A-Lot and he saw Jesus, so he ran out and asked to be healed. And Jesus healed him, without a magic wand.

That would be a sight to see - Jesus with a magic wand. Because He is perfectly capable of performing miracles on His own, after all, He is Jesus. He is God. He is the Healer. But there is something interesting about Jesus in a Humphrey Bogart top hat, Superman cape, and a magician's wand. Maybe He thought of bunny slippers.

But back to Jesus with a wand.

Jesus doesn't need to swirl around a magic wand that was spritzed with glue and rolled in Tinkerbell's fairy dust to perform miracles. He doesn't need a cape, or a top hat, or even shoes. A lot of people (accidentally) assume that Jesus looks like the "Jesus" we see in the movies - Swedish, with dirty blond hair, shaved beard, pure white clothes, and a purple sash. In reality, Jesus looks like what we associate with a Middle-Eastern terrorist, minus that diaper of a fortune teller's hat and a crystal ball. He doesn't need all of that stuff.

He came to us in human flesh, just like everyone, born of a virgin (owie), lived a perfect life (no one else has done it), and died for our sins. Our sins. Woah. I have trouble at times forgiving people because of whatever reason, but He did because He wanted to save everyone of us. (Yes, even your little brother/sister who you think Satan created just to torture you.) He lived this wonderfully perfect life and died on a cross. Another owie. I remember learning at my old church that crosses were about 4.5 feet high. I'm not exactly sure how tall Jesus was, and Google has come up with some pretty varying estimates. Google said that the tomb was somewhere around 6 feet long, so he needed to be shorter than that. One site suggested he was no more than 5 feet tall, due to their speculation that if he would have been taller, the bible would have remarked on it. Who knows. The point being is that He couldn't have been much taller than the cross, causing Him to be in some serious pain.

And He did that for me? No joke? No abracadabra crap? Cool beans, and sign me up.

Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes through the father except through Him. We have all endured something wrong in our lives (we're humans, it's our nature to screw up), but Jesus is always here to pick us up and help us to get back on the right track. Even when Satan tries to sneeze us back into sin. Even when we feel like we are the biggest failures in the world, Jesus loves us and reminds us that we are not alone. Satan just likes to screw with our minds. Been there, done that.

This Princess of God will take Jesus over Satan any day.

Sorry for such the long post. I hope you have enjoyed it! :)

Much love,
klc.

Orange Colored Sky

"Life is about not regretting anything, but learning from those experiences and moving forward as a better person, inside and out."

I love jazz music. When life gets crazy and unexplained, I tend to listen to it's soothing melodies and harmonies to calm my nerves and help me find peace in my heart. There are some that help me relax, others make me want to dance around my room in a big "twirly" dress and spin around like I'm a five year old ballerina. One of my favorite is "Orange Colored Sky". Above all songs I may say I love, this is by far my favorite. I'm pretty sure I will sing this song at my wedding to my future husband. It speaks to my heart in so many ways, especially in regards to my faith in God.

"I was walking along, minding my business,
When out of the orange colored sky,
Flash, bam, alacazam, wonderful You came by..."

God's love is like falling in true love. When I feel like I am all alone and life can no longer go on, Jesus finds a way to sing a song in my heart that I cannot ignore. Yesterday's "unconventional" post was a little outside of my normal cheery/happy/optimistic realm, but you have to take the raindrops to have sunshine.

Also, I came across an important revelation last night - prayer works. As much as I like to deny this fact, and throw a temper tantrum when He doesn't bless me with the funds to buy another pair of shoes or another purse, I know that God is up in Heaven, listening to my prayers and answering them in His own perfect way. We do not always hear the "alacazam" part, but I know that He always answers our prayers - may not be right away, may not be the answer we want to hear, but He knows better than we do. I was thinking about this earlier - if I were in His shoes (yes, God wears shoes, Tom's in fact, because He wants to help donate a pair to a child in need), I would completely fail at making the right decision for myself. That would be like me being deaf and blind and trying to cross the street without any assistance. I would meet Jesus quicker that way, lol.

If I could describe God's love for me at this moment, it's "...orange colored, purple striped, pretty green polka-dot sky; flash, bam, alacazam..." love. It's like being picked up and given a spinning hug. It's like homemade vanilla ice cream. It's like reading a book that you can't put down. It's incandescently satisfying. It's brilliant. Everyone should experience it.

How great the Father's love for us,
how vast beyond all measure,
that He would give His only son,
and make a wretch his treasure.
...
I will not boast in anything,
No gifts, no power, no wisdom;
But I will boast in Jesus Christ,
His death and resurrection.

Much Love.
klc