Something-life-crisis

I ate a Little Debbie snack cake. I ate two, actually. I haven't eaten one in probably twenty years. I know why: they're disgusting, and they taste like plastic. I am watching a movie, on television, that isn't Lifetime, and hasn't been in theaters. This means it was never good enough for either.
I bought a ridiculously expensive bottle of Essie nail polish; it's called "Lady Like," as if I'm really going to accomplish something.
I bought a Zumba Ultimate Transformation kit. I eyeball it warily. I've yet to unwrap the DVDs. I just figure that if I'm going to wear the leggings (which were last week's brilliant idea), I'm going to have to do something about these thighs.
I keep looking online at spas and getaway trips to resort lodges with glossy pine beams on the ceiling and pictures of women resembling Stepford Wives enjoying glasses of wine.
I am back and forth on whether or not I want bangs again.
I am determined that I have to get rid of my minivan. It only makes me feel older.
Older. The same feeling I get when I look in the mirror each morning and see bags and gray hairs. I remind myself that I'm still young and hip. I have a Kindle.
I feel a little crazy, but I wouldn't call it a mid-life-crisis because I don't know how old I'll live to be. How does anyone know when their mid-life is? I never understood that.
Nope.
I'm turning 30.
In 5 days.
Please pass the Xanax.

Unconditional Love

The best kind of love is the kind that is free. It does not require stipulations, it does not change, it does not lessen. I am certain I've felt two, solid instances of this type of love in my life thus far.
I think the most common example of this kind of love is felt when a woman becomes a mother. For me, it happened the moment I discovered, after peeing on countless sticks and seeing countless pink plus-signs, there was a person growing within me. It was a two-fer, in my experience...I hadn't 100% trusted in Jesus yet, but I realized He loved me enough to give me a new life. He loved me that much, even though I hadn't lived my life for Him. Through months of discomfort, uncertainty, nausea and what felt like a million trips to the bathroom, I awaited the moment I'd look into the face of this little creature I loved more than anything before. No other love before that can measure up to it; the feeling is, for lack of other explanation, euphoric. Sadly, the love from child to mother doesn't always follow suit. Don't get me wrong, I think my kids love me, and I think they love me a ton. At this age. I'm all they have, I'm their lifeline to everything they've known in their brief time on this earth. I just know it will change. I know they will be angry with me, someday, and they will claim to not love me. Two of them have already "hated" me at some point. I know they don't mean it...but what I'm saying is, the love isn't the same. My theory is that they'll discover this type of love later in life...I can't remember loving anything unconditionally when I was a kid, either. But I remember feeling unconditional love, from my mother.
I think it's tough for people to love unconditionally. It's natural for humans to put conditions on things. "I love you when..." or "I love you, except..." This is why, I think, God gave us animals. In Genesis, God creates Eden and gives Adam the responsibility of looking after all the animals, forming a bond between man and four-legged-creature that has continued for centuries. My dogs love me unconditionally. They follow me throughout the house with their eyes, and if I leave their line of sight, they'll move to a new position so they can see me again. When I stir in the morning, when they hear my movement, they begin to whine with anticipation, waiting for me to pat my hands on their heads for the first time of the day. Their backs grow rigid and their eyes wary with suspense whenever a strange person approaches me. They'd lay down their lives for me, any day, any time, unconditionally. It's sort of how I'd lay down my life, any day, any time, unconditionally for one of my kids.
Dogs (or any pet for that matter) are a great example of unconditional love, because "stuff" doesn't get in the way.
The thing that taints unconditional human love, when it does happen, is "stuff." Money, possessions, greed. You can't take it with you, anyway. When I last looked at my best friend, Sarge, I felt my last dose of his unconditional love for me. In his deep brown eyes, I knew that nothing in life had satisfied him more than the bond we shared. When marriages end, and couples sever their ties and create new lives apart, it's the greed, the bitterness, and the argue over "stuff" that surfaces. The love wasn't unconditional.
When a loved one dies, their "stuff" becomes a breeding ground for anger and contempt. For jealousy, as one sibling discovers that another sibling will fight them for a material possession. For betrayal, as deep secrets are discovered and relationships are forever wounded. The love wasn't unconditional.

So, friends, my point on this Saturday morning is to strive to find the moments of unconditional love you've experienced in your own lives. If you're a mom, maybe you already know it. If you have a pet, maybe you know it. Maybe you have experienced a different form altogether. Whatever it is, find it. Think of all the things in this life we will have, or consume, or even think we own, and know that it is only temporary.
Love is the only thing you can take with you.