Shout Out to Twila!

I am obsessive.

Really, really obsessive.

But only about certain things.

Music is one of them. When I find or hear a new song that I love, I play it to death. To. Death. To the point of me hating it. Like, I will burn a rut in a CD. It's crazy. I am bestest friends with the repeat button and an iPod playlist.

(does anyone else obsess like this???)

Well, I'm currently hooked on a song. I'd like to take you back to 1985. I was six years old. The average cost of a new home was $89,000. The average price of a new car was $9,500. Gas was $1.09 per gallon. A stamp was $0.22. John Gotti had Paul Castellano killed and a lady named Twila Paris wrote the song "He Is Exalted."

I don't know how or why, but I am feelin' this song. I love it. I have always loved it. I love everything about it: the words, the chord progression, the harmonies. All of it. And we're singing it this Sunday.

I don't know why I'm so addicted. I think because it's basically all about exalting our God and just telling Him how wonderful He is. I mean, can you really ever tire of that?

"He is exalted, the King is exalted on high.

I will praise Him.

He is exalted, forever exalted, and I will praise His name.

He is the Lord, forever His truth will reign.

Heaven and Earth, rejoice in His holy name.

He is exalted, the King is exalted on high."

It's such a simple song. But I love it.

I.

Love.

It.

I pray the Lord uses it this week in our Worship Service.

Now, I need someone to really update it. Just make it crazy relevant (instrumentally and vocally.) I mean, we can always improve, right?

Is Travis Cottrell, Travis Ducette, Paul Baloche, Brooke Fraser or Charles Billingsley reading this?

Oh, no?

Ok then.

Never Say Never

You know....there are a few phrases I've always been pretty sure I'd never say in my lifetime. For example,

"Sarah, can we go to ANOTHER Dave Matthews concert?? Pleeeeeeeeeeeease???"

or

"I really think you should just try a spiral perm."

and

"When are we going to incorporate snakes during our Worship Services??"

If I did happen to use them, you would know something is very wrong. Very, very wrong. However, a phrase came out of my mouth last night that normally I would have categorized with those listed above. This phrase not only brought complete and total confusion, but also a medium-sized panic attack........and a bit of "dry mouth."

Sarah asked me to take a little bleach and water mixture and clean the rubber seal of our washing machine. It's a front loader and that seal completely surrounds the opening. It stays wet and if not treated properly and routinely can develop minor amounts of mildew. Well, ours had about two or three little, tiny mildew specks. So, I took a toothbrush and my mug of cleaning solution and off I go. It literally took less than 30 seconds and it was all gone.

Well, we had both noticed an odor from the washer. And I thought after this cleaning, it would be gone. Well it wasn't and I began to become concerned. Did we have a leak somewhere? Was something blocking water flow? Who knew?

I'm certainly no appliance repairman. A mechanic? Sure. Can I change the springs and seats in a faucet? Without a problem (shout out to MommaMize.) Can I hang window treatments? Absolutely!

Ahem....

But appliances are where I have to draw the line. So I begin to do a little more research within the body of our washer. Now, keep in mind, this washer was really expensive so I'm reluctant to do anything outside of cleaning the seal and the cartridge where you put all the washing solutions. We've already had to replace the motor board because of power surges to the tune of $300, so I didn't really want to mess anything up.

And then it happened.

The phrase I never thought I'd say.

In a million years.

"Sarah. Can you come in here? I think there's a snake in the washing machine."

I was completely stricken with fear. Mostly because I have a VERY LONG and VERY TUMULTUOUS history with snakes. The moment I said it, Sarah immediately put her shirt (like a face mask) over her mouth. Sorta like she was about to puke at the mere mention of the word. She then says, "What are you DOING??? Call you dad and tell him to get over here NOW!!!! CALL HIM!!!" She started speaking at elevated tones as if I was threatening to throw it on her.

I assure you, I would not EVER touch a snake (especially in a Worship Service.)

My mother, a different story - but not the Worship Service part.

Sarah says, "I'll bring you a knife!!!"

(yes, because that's what I want. I bleeding snake that's trapped in my washer.)

I said, "no, no, no, just bring me a bamboo skewer (what the....) or some tongs!!!" At this point I'm borderline yelling too. And I kept ordering Sarah to stay in the laundry room with me. Not sure what preggy was going to do. EXCEPT, she totally tried to close the door to trap me in there.

I'M SO SURE.

So, I have all my tools ready to make the move. I kept thinking, "how am I going to do this???" What if I can't grab it? What if it slithers away? (Sarah would never do laundry again, by the way.) I knew I had to act quickly.

It was go time!!!

I reached in, grabbed it with the tongs, took a very, very deep breath (you know, because you can't breathe when you're doing stuff like this) and pulled it out.

I started running toward the sink. Why you ask? I have no idea. Especially when the door to the back porch was next to the washer. Sarah of course breaks and runs (read: waddles with purpose) into the living room yelling that she's going to go into labor.

I drop the snake into the sink.

Only to find that it wasn't a snake.

It was an infant sock. It had fallen in between the seal and the barrel and had been soaking in water (and never dried) for TWO AND A HALF YEARS. The stink was unbelievable. Repulsive. Thankfully, it was never near our clothes being washed. It was a white sock that had turned brown and green.

And it totally looked like a little snake curled up in the washer.

No lie.