The Worst Preacher’s Wife Ever Presents: P.M.S Conference, May 2014

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**DRUM ROLL PLEASE**

The 1st Ever, Ever, Worst Preacher’s Wife Ever’s P.M.S. Conference and Retreat is here! There’s only room for 12 and it will Never Ever cost less than this one time. You get to spend the weekend in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains with room, meals, and four sessions (plus a lot of extra surprises) for only $180!!! (Does not include travel)

Email me to save your spot: mizweatherby@yahoo.com

(This is for Preacher’s Wives only.)

With Great Platform Comes Great Criticism ©

My husband is a cowboy preacher. He isn’t just a cowboy preacher. He IS a cowboy. He lives and breathes cowboy.

My man received this e-mail today:

“Every once in a while you are truly inspirational. The stories about
you sometimes get in the way. I love it when you are totally focused
on preaching God’s Word not the latest rodeo escapades. You have a
gift; stick to it……..Thank you.”

Number one:

Don’t. Mess. With. My. Man.

And the other number one is:

God did not choose ANYBODY to be criticizers. Even when the criticism is veiled as a kindness.

I have seen that a great platform comes with great criticism. We get these messages all the time. I do not understand. If you don’t like something…Don’t read. Don’t listen to it. Don’t look at it. Or by ALL MEANS….send tacky e-mails.

ALWAYS BE YOURSELF UNLESS YOU CAN BE BATMAN

I met the cutest three year old little guy yesterday. He was nervous and shy. He looked down at the floor and hid under his cowboy hat.

His parents introduced him to me and tried to get him to shake my hand and say, “Nice to meet you”.

He would not budge.

I knelt down in front of him and told him that he didn’t have to shake my hand. I understood that there were a lot of people in here. A lot of new people, and it was a little bit stranger danger in here.

He held up a small, plastic Batman for me to see. He put Batman’s cape over his head and said, “Batman is hiding.”

“Oh…Is Batman scared?” I asked.

He nodded his head yes.

“It’s okay to be scared when you go some place new with a lot of people you have never met. There are a LOT of people in here. I get scared in here too sometimes.” I told him, then I asked, “What’s your name?”

“Batman,” he said, softly.

“Are you sure that’s your name?” his dad asked.

“Yes! It’s Batman.”

I told him that I thought about changing my name sometimes. I didn’t tell him that I want it to be Lovie. Lovie didn’t seem as cool and brave as Batman.

“So…If you changed your name to Batman, and I sometimes think about changing my name…What do you think is a good, new name for me?”

He thought for a minute and then said confidently, “Spiderman.”

Cool.

I’m pretty sure I’m okay with being called Spiderman.

“Awesome!” I said. “I like it! Can we shake hands and say ‘Nice to meet you’ now?”

He shook his head ‘yes’ and stuck out his tiny hand.

“Nice to meet you, Batman.”

“Nice to meet you, Spiderman.”

 

batman!

Karma Is An Eyebrow Waxer

I have recently lost some weight and I have one group of jeans in my closet that I am hoping to fit back into some day and another group that I am continuously pulling up and make no sudden moves while wearing them for fear that they will drop to the floor.

Thursday, I went shopping for a couple of new pairs of jeans. I never can find jeans that fit right, so I had pretty much decided that I just don’t like jeans.

I try on several  thousand pairs of  jeans and they either fit me like grandma pants or my butt cleavage is hanging out.

I’m about to give up when I have an epiphany. My two most favorite pairs of jeans in the history of me were jeans that someone had given me and they were guy’s jeans!!!

I race to the men’s department and find several pair of jeans that look pretty gender neutral, yet still cool, and then race back to the women’s fitting room.

As I am trying on my man jeans…..Trying to have some nice relaxing time to myself….A lady comes into the dressing room next to me. She begins talking REALLY LOUDLY on her cell phone.

Her name is Suzanne. Her husband’s name is Mark. Her horse shoer’s name is Brian. (Brian is who she is speaking very loudly on the phone with.) Suzanne is thinking about buying a new horse for some girl, who’s name I actually can’t remember, to ride. The horse is, apparently, a pretty amazing show horse but it needs special shoes. Suzanne needs to schedule Brian, the horse shoer, to come shoe all of her horses but if she buys the show horse, she is going to sell another horse, but she doesn’t know if she is or not, so she guesses she should just call Brian back when she figures everything out.

So…From the protection of my very own dressing room where my peace and happy are being ruined, I say, “SSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And then. I am afraid. To leave. The. Dressing Room.

I finally leave without any confrontation with Suzanne and TWO fabulous pairs of guy jeans that neither look like grandma pants or reveal all my butt cleavage to the world and I absolutely LOVE them.

The next day I have my eyebrows waxed. I enter the salon with two okay eyebrows that just need a little shaping up. The eyebrow waxer sends me back into the world with only one and a half eyebrows.

I’m pretty sure that eyebrow waxer’s name is Karma, and I have a suspicion that she was watching out for Suzanne….

Desiderata

Desiderata (Latin: “desired things”) a 1927 prose poem by American writer Max Ehrmann (1872–1945)

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass.

Take kindly to the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

DON’T BE A SUCKER

Most clergy and their families carry a heavy load. It is a life of giving where the whole family ends up being involved by proxy. Members of clergy are generally givers and a large number of people take advantage of their giving nature by sucking the life out of them because “it is their duty”.

October is Clergy Appreciation Month. You can learn more about what Clergy Appreciation Month is, why it is necessary, and what you can do here: http://www.thrivingpastor.org/cam/

And, at least for the rest of this month, be a giver to your clergy and their family. It will be more appreciated than you could ever imagine.

Don’t be a sucker.

Thank You Sir For Pissing On My Flowers

I love cars. Rowdy cars. I am particularly fond of jacked up trucks and old muscle cars.

My husband knows this about me and on Facebook he said, “Some people bring flowers to their wives…I just tag pictures of jacked up trucks for mine”, and then he shared a picture of the biggest, rowdiest, jacked up truck you ever saw! It was awesome!

Then…Some party crasher had to say, ” That one is jacked up in more ways than one.”

This immediately has the potential of ruining my husband’s thoughtful gift to me, so…I do the only thing I know to do.

I reply, “Hey! We’re trying to make some love over here.”

Thinking the situation is avoided and oh, so ever grateful that my husband knows my love-language, I continue about my Facebook business. My heart happy and my mind full of  visions of  jacked up trucks.

Moments later there is a notification and guess who has commented yet again! “Surprised you’d even have the energy to do that, looks like you need climbing gear to get in the thing.”

To that, I would just like to say: Thank you, sir, for pissing on my flowers.

If you, also, are a flower pisser, stop it. Right. Now.

“Pay no attention to what the critics say. A statue has never been erected in honor of a critic.” -Jean Sibelius

Kiss My Good, Kind Heart

We drove the twenty minutes to our home in silence. Both of us lost in thought. Over time, I have learned that this means he is making plans and thinking about beer, pizza, horses, and sex. I, on the other hand, had once again had a trigger that flashed me back to all of the mistakes and bad choices I have ever made in my whole, entire life. And let me just tell you, when I mess up, I mess up big!

As we pulled up to the house, I thought to myself, “I am a really bad person.” Over the years, because of those mistakes and bad choices, people have made me feel that way. Unforgivable.

I mentally started going through the list of bad things I have done, making myself feel worse and worse. Then I thought of one particular instance and I also remembered that during that same time I had given my bed to someone who needed it. I moved on to a different bad choice and then remembered that during that time, I had shared my groceries with a family who was going through a hard time. After that, I started thinking about all of the good things I had done. When my friend lost his dad, I made dinners for him and his family and sent flowers and helped them shuffle their kids. I let my friend, who is a single mom, live with me absolutely free when she got in a bad situation. I thought of thing after thing that I had done that was good and kind.

As he turned off the truck, I thought,  “I am NOT a bad, unforgivable person! And all of you people who have made me feel that way can kiss my good, kind heart!” Then we went inside and had a beer and some pizza and talked about horses and we….well….ya know…..

Dear Sunday Morning,

 

You suck. I hate your stinking guts. Almost every week, you do me wrong and I am just about tired of it.

Almost every time you come around, I get exhausted and cranky. You make my husband and I get crossways and my children whiny. Why do you insist upon doing this???

I think it would be best if you just went away. Please leave us alone.

You can probably just let Sunday afternoon pull a double shift from now on. Or better yet…We can just have two Mondays in a row, because, frankly, right now, I even like Monday more than you.

Love,
T.W.P.W.E.