I have been trying to get back into the word per my mentor's suggestion for some time now.  I have read the book of Ester, and doing it on my own, I just wasn't fulfilled.  I have been attending church for some years now in another city.  It takes me 35 min one way to get there and is not the denomination I grew up in.  They don't seem to study the Word at all as far as I can tell, unless they are in a theology class.  In general, I don't know that these congregates would know if Ephesians is in the front or the back of the Bible because I have never seen them use one.  This has been disheartening to me as I was raised Baptist. 

Baptists, we love reading the Bible.  When I was little there were songs about the books of the Bible, games to see who could find scripture the fastest, stars given out for memorized verses.  We sang passages in choirs, we read from it every Sunday in Sunday School and in Big Church.  Everytime we turned around we needed our Bibles.  I was given one by the church in third grade, it was a children's version with pictures through out.  And on Christmas Eve, 1990, I was given my first adult Bible by my parents.  It had no pictures and had my name engraved on the cover. 

I have kept all my secrets in that Bible.  I have notes I wrote to my best friend during worship services.  Notes that children left me at middle school retreats in Gatlinburg.  I have a rose petal from my Grandaddy's funeral.  I have goals I set for myself while at Camp Crestridge as a counselor.  I have passages underlined over and over in the books Paul wrote.  I have verses marked with bookmarks made from Sunday School lessons that are nothing but a slip of paper with a verse on it.  My Bible was useful to me constantly.  And yet, somewhere in my late teens, early twenties, I slowly, but surely stopped reading, using, filling it treasures.  I even found a church that didn't use the Bible...how unbelievable.

I am ready and willing today to read, use and begin filling my Bible once again.  This morning's sermon was on the Love of God.  Ephesians 3:19 "and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled up to all the fulness of God."  The pastor noted that no matter what we have done, no matter how bad the sin we think there is, that God's love surpasses every sin, every knowledge that we have as humans.  I was really glad I had my Bible with me to participate in the service.  Turns out, I had that passage marked...it's like seeing an old friend again.  Comforting...like coming home. 

I read some more.  And the book of Ester, well, Ester is about courage. 

Courage comes in many forms.  It shows up like Ester's, in a court at a banquet when everyone is watching: to face a great fear and have great faith.  It's when someone dedicates their life to a greater purpose like joining the military during wartime.  It happens when a drunk decides not to drink today.  It is when we go to God and ask for forgiveness.  It is our heart breaking so we can find what it means to truly love someone. To be able to unconditionally love someone for all that they are, were and will be.  To love someone inspite of their flaws, quirks or mental illness.  It is loving our enemies.  Courage comes from the Great Love.  The Love that God has for us.  Courage is a spiritual principle that God has given us.  It takes lots of courage to love such a fallible creature as a human. 

Courage is being willing, willing to let God have all of me.  Giving Him the good, which is the easy part.  And give Him the bad which is harder.  I don't want people to know about the bad parts, especially God.  I am arrogant enough to believe that He doesn't already know.  But it's a lot like going back into the store and telling the lady behind the counter that I am sorry I stole the Smurf figurine from her Riches Store.  It's just not something I want to do.  It is embarrassing.  It is acknowledging that the bad stuff actually happened and sometimes that I did the bad stuff.  To be frank, I've done a lot of bad stuff that I am not going to tell you about...ever.  And I mean, I don't know about you, but I want God to think the best of me.  I want God's approval.  Luckily, He takes the bad in stride with the good. 

Courage is committing to God as a partner in life.  It's being able to scream, kick, cry, say ugly things at God.  It's about telling God all the innermost parts of my thoughts and emotions.  I am so selfish by creation. My experience is that it takes the spiritual fortitude to overcome selfishness. I have found the Great Love hidden under my selfishness & self-centeredness.  When I get out of the way of God, the Sunlight of the Spirit shines through me.  I am able to have the courage that it takes to do great things and experience the Greatness of God. 

I haven't read another chapter yet mostly that is because I am still stewing on the last one.  Ester goes through this process of making a decision, asking for prayers on her behalf and taking action.  I am amazed at how I have read just a few chapters and how much Ester has accomplished.  First she was chosen, which took a year.  Then she became queen.  And now she has to save her people.  But there is no time line on those. 

How did she know that the message from Mordichai was real?  How did she lay out the plan?  How long did it take her? How much did she agonize over the results of her actions?  How many times did she try out the plan only to fail?  While the author has detailed knowledge about Ester, he/she has left out some of the details.  Real Life details that is. 

When I go to a movie, it takes an hour and a half for the boy to get the girl.  An hour and a half and they live happily ever after.  It took me four and a half YEARS to decide I wanted to marry my husband.  YEARS...

When I read a book, it takes a couple weeks to come to a conclusion.  So Ester, in just a few chapters which took me all of 30 mins to read at a slow miserable pace, has been given her fate and is taking action.  Surely...surely...taking leadership roles in my own life will take longer and with more failures than that. 

The actions that I have taken just today are: a) sign back up for weight watchers, b) go to the gym even though I really don't want to c) write out a prayer and stick it to my bathroom mirror that says:

My Creator, I am now willing that you should have all of me, good and the bad.  I pray that You now remove from me every single defect of character which stands in the way of my usefulness to You and my Fellows.  Grant me strength, as I go out from here, to do your bidding. Amen

That took me almost a month to accomplish. 

Ester is faced with great terror.  Not just for her people, but for herself.  She is to be executed by the King's order. Great terror...

Fear is a nasty thing.  It twists around inside of me.  It shows its face in so many ways in my life.  The greatest fear I face that manifests repeatedly in my life is abandonment.  And when I believe that someone close to me will leave me...forever, I lose my composure.  When I remember someone who has abandoned me, I feel agony that can surface as anger, sadness, confusion.  Once the wound of abandonment is reopened, it takes a while to heal back again.  And I smart off to my friends.  I cry in my bathroom alone.  I look in Ester to find the answer. 

Ester did two things when she learned of the great threat Haman had established against her.  First she asked for prayers and fasting from Mordachi and his people.  Second she took action ensuring her life from the King.  Prayers and action.  Two constants in my life. 

O Lord hear my prayers.  Heal me where I am hurt.  Give me great strength in times of great fear.  Grant that I may be Your servant to those whom you place in my life.  Thy will, not mine be done. Amen

Prayers and actions. 

Thanks be to God.

So the King Baby turns the power of being King over to his right hand man.  Being totally inexperienced he gives it up to the bad guy.  The bad guy's name is Haagar aka Hilter.  This dude has serious control issues.  He sends out a death sentence for the Jews.  Ester's Uncle Mort tells her to go, go to the King and beg, beg for her life and the lives of her people. 

What must she be thinking? First you tell me not to say anything about who I am and now you tell me to say something.  WTH?  Ester has got to be in a panic.  Here she is finally getting slightly comfortable in her royal surroundings and you want me to throw it all away? 

Life or death dear woman, life or death.  I was threatened with a life or death scenario once.  I was stalked by terror, bewilderment, frustration and despair.  My head was swimming, like I was caught in a spiral of emotions that just got worser.  I chose life.  It meant giving up everything I had known and walking a different path.  It meant having the courage to know the difference.  I didn't actually know the difference I just knew it was something different and anything was better than death! 

Life or death...

Cosmetics...what does that mean?

He found favor with Ester and gave her cosmetics and servants...

Ester's real name is Hadassah, which means myrtle.  Myrtle branches signify peace and thanksgiving.  Hadassah.  If we met a woman with a name as such would we consider her Jewish?  The way I pronounce it in my head the name sounds Arab.  Turns out there is an entire Jewish Women's group called Hadassah.  She is from the tribe of Benjamin, this makes me happy because Benjamin is of Rachel, thus Ester must be a great woman if her lineage is of Rachel.  Rachel was strong, beautiful and patient.  Some of these qualities would make a great queen. 

Bathed in myrrh.  I compare myrrh to Chanel No 5.  It is the most expensive perfume I own and I can only imagine being bathed in it for six months.  A year the women were prepared for King Baby.  They were doused for a year.  I wonder if they are also given a trainer and maybe a shopper who picks out fine clothes for them?  Cosmetics is just the outside of the woman.  It is the "trappings" so to speak.  Something of which I have always struggled with a bit: when to wear make-up, how much to wear, to pluck or not to pluck the eyebrows, what is considered casual, too casual or too formal, jewelry...got lucky with a decent man so most of my jewelry is an easy pick, but every now and again should I wear pearls all the time or just with blue jeans? 

She won him over.  Prior to the cosmetics, she found "favor" with him.  And in the end he loved her because she was kind.  All that war of cosmetics and the reality is he liked her before they were added and because of her insides not her outsides.  My guess is that her outsides matched her insides.  Thus the beauty makes. 

I pray Lord God that I may have my insides match my outsides. 

Thanks be to God.

I started to read the book of Ester.  I remembered my girlfriend and her bible study group were reading it earlier in the semester and wondering why.  What I know of Ester from learning the story a million year ago in Sunday School was that Ester was a jew woman who was a queen who stood up for her people.  The part I couldn't remember was whether or not I had ever actually read the scripture or not.  That is the way Baptists are: our Sunday School is set up so that we can actually get away with knowing the Bible without every reading it.  I know Bible verses by heart from when I was a child that I can say or sing and have no idea what book in the Bible they are in or what they mean in context of the chapter or book. 

So I am trying to take Jane's suggestions and get into the Word.  I read the preface.  I like that no one knows who wrote the Book of Ester.  I like that God is not mentioned anywhere in the book by name.  I like that it is controversial in nature as to whether it should have been included in the canon.  Nothing like a woman to stir the pot a bit. 

Then I read the first chapter coincidentally my stomach began to wrench to the left at the same time.  I was horrified by the passage.  Here is this great King and his great Queen throwin parties for their loved ones and mix in a little alcohol and ego and get a problem.  The King is merry with his wine.  DRUNK.  He was drunk.  He calls for his wife as though she were a trophy to be pulled from a mantle.  He didn't even do it himself, he sent someone to go get her.  While I recognize this passage is a bizillion years old and maybe that is how they did things back then, it is not how we do things now.  She says no, because I truly believe that she was born in 1969 and he freaks.  I mean FREAKS.  Seriously?  This great King in my head has just become King Baby: pitches a fit when he doesn't get what he wants when he wants it.  So King Baby, being the King that he is, removes the hippy chick from her throne.  Why? Because he can.  He sucks.  His evil servant who suggested the removal says that it will set an example for the men to keep thier women in line: barefoot pregnant and in the kitchen.  Seriously? You've got to be kidding me...

Am hoping the story gets better.  If nothing else it got my attention.

Thanks be to God.

So tired of being trapped in my mind.  I finally broke down and asked for help.  My friend Jane is a wonderful woman.  She is crazy as a loon, but a wonderful woman none the less. 

Now that I am finally on the other side of stress: I have started on this path to try to work.  I don't know where God wants me go or be or do.  I just know that I keep waking up in the morning so there must be something for me to do, right? Something other than sending out cyber resumes to cyber companies with no contact in return.  No way of knowing if I am even going in the right direction.  Jane says that God is giving me this time to take care of myself.   

Two folks that have been consistently present in my past ten years on this spiritual journey: God & me.

I have heard it best put by she who will not be named: self care leads to God's will.

It has been a month now...a month.  Mostly what I have accomplished is sleep, watching massive amounts of tv and a little exercise.  I am miserable.  My life is inconsistant and getting more depressing by the second.  So I asked for help.  What else could I do?

Jane Says...

plan your days
get into the Word
journal
make a care plan for Rae
pray, pray, pray
tithe
pray my ass off some more

The reference for this blog: Ecclesiastes 3.

Dust in our eyes, our own boots kicked up
May not see it when its stickin to your skin
But we're better off for all that we let in

I have cried for about three weeks prior to exams.  I took the exams and for a week, I have no clue what I did.  I know that my house became a little cleaner each day.  I know that I had a graduation at the end of the week.  I know I didn't cry that week.  Now that its all over: the work, strife, frenzie of people that had cards and cake and pictures...omg the pictures.  So many.  Thank God they are with clear eyes and smiles.  So many pictures from the last time that I looked like someone had hit me in the head with a hammer bc that is the way I felt.  This time though I was SO heavy.  Omg heavy.  If it's not one thing it's another. 

My husband told me to take some time off and just go to the gym and sleep.  I have tried gyms.  I have done the classes, the weights, the machines and the BIG mirrors.  There is nothing worse than a big mirror when you are heavy.  But mostly, people who are in gyms are not heavy, thus the vanity.  Going to the gym will just make my self esteem lower than it already is.  I wasn't raised in a gym.  I was raised in a pool. 

I don't know when I learned to swim.  I remember lessons when I was little.  I remember being the oldest child in the class.  Everyone in Avondale knew how to swim.  I was the odd man out.  I don't know when I joined the Avondale Waves swim team, but I was young.  Surely it was after I learned to swim. 

The Pool.  It opened on Memorial Day and closed on Labor Day.  It was the best place in the world.  We would jump, dive, swim, play.  We had a ton of friends and tons of things to do.  At some point we would swim across the pool horizontally and back meaning we were allowed to go in the deep end.  At some point, Mom quit having to take us down to the pool.  We rode bikes, walked, whatever to get there.  We would go to swim practice early in the morning and be gone till night.  Mom would bring us home for lunch, bring us lunch, send us with lunch money (which was great bc we'd go to the Pizza Cafe, the best lunch place ever). 

Then I went to highschool.  In ninth grade Casey told me to show up for swim practice at school.  Made sense to me.  I switched from playing basketball to swimming in a snap.  I lettered four years. 

Maybe its because I am a cancer.  Maybe its because when I take my contacts out, I can't see anything.  Maybe its because I just love to swim.  Idk.  But I know that the past two days I have swam and I feel at home.  I can't go very far yet, but I know I can go far.  I know that I used to swim a mile without blinking an eye.  I know that when I am swimming I feel good.  I am tired, sore but not so much that it impedes my daily comings and goings.  I love my goggles, cap, flipturning, stroke after stroke.  So I guess I will take John's suggestion, just my style: swimming my way through. 

Somedays are about being broken.  I took all day yesterday thinking that if I took a day to recoop from school work for a day, that I could get back on the horse and ride it through the next 8 days.  Turns out, not so much.  All it took was the glitch in a computer printing for me to fall a part.  I was screaming at my husband and beating on the computer and in a total disaster of a moment.  My husband's last torid comment was "Why can't you act like an adult?!".  My answer was BECAUSE!

Yes, it was that bad. 

Once I settled down, and my husband disappeared into a world of weed eating, I called my Mom.  She did what Mom's always does and reminds me that it is just not that big of a deal and that it really doesn't matter and that it's all gonna be okay.  It made me cry some more.  I realized that the computer/printer was just the straw that broke the camel's back and that it had been a long time coming.  I just broke: gave way to the pressures. 

I finished my printing.  I mailed my invites.  I went into town to do some banking.  The whole time I wasn't really all that cognizant, mostly just going through the motions.  I came home and made some lunch and watch a little something on tv.  And now the headache has set in from the overwhelming onslought of emotional crisis.  While yesterday was about rest, today was about emotions. 

There had not been a whole lot of God in my day today.  I did say my prayers this morning, but I have not prayed since.  Mostly just a lot of Self.  Whenever I am this full of self, I do break.  I have to surender all over again and remember that I am not God.  Today is just a day of brokeness. The process of getting to the place to start over...again.   

"Who Knocks at the Door of Learning?"
"I am EveryWoman"
"What do you seek?"
"To awaken my Spirit through Hardwork and dedicate my life to Knowledge"
"Then You are welcome, all women who seek to follow You can enter Here"

My life is totally out of my control.  As much as I would love to fit into my Red dress with White polkadots, it is not going to happen today.  The last two weeks have been all about what I sought.  I started down the path of educational experience three years ago.  I recognize that this journey is contributory to me being sick and tired.  I am not sick of school as much as I am tired of it.  I am exhausted of tests, papers, the headache of trying to complete the long awaited senior final semester. 

As a young woman I completed a liberal arts degree, which was...liberating.  I had no tools to find my way in the world.  I had no understanding of myself, who I was or who I wanted to be.  The education was not for me but for all those who thought that I should have an education.  Unfortunately, I was unable to use what I had acheived.  I thought that I should try again.  I thought, maybe I could find something to do of use.

Once again, I find myself in the same predicament as I did three years ago: unemployed and of no use.  I am sick of unemployment. 

I chose this path.  I love the work.  I love the opportunities it presents.  I just hope now that I have found a career, I can get hired. 

There has been no obtaining my seven goals that I set.  My weight has not increased nor has it decreased.  I am still sick and tired.  Just thinking about changing my eating is a tumultuous upheaval of emotions: selfpity, anger, frustration, overwhelming disgust and tremendous fear.  My prayers to God lately have been about "get me through this day" than about "help me eat right."  Being thin has not been my focus.  I made a decision for a different focus back in August of 2007.  Now all I have left for that focus is 8 days.  In 8 days I will have no more tests, papers, finals.  In eight days I will have no more school.  In 8 days all life as I have known it for the past three years will be over. 

I hope that the hard work I have put into becoming of use will transfer into changing my body. 

Overheard at Easter:

John: That's what you should look like Rae! 
Rae: Yeah, well I was dancing for an hour a day, swimming for an hour and a half and gosh only knows what else.  So...if you are willing to give up your quality time with me, sure I can be that. 

This is the kind of thing I am used to: what I used to look like everywhere I turn.  I was a thin, beautiful, active young woman who was in every club I could be, a part of musicals, choirs, handbells, played violin (which requires lessons & practice) and piano, was maintaining a 3.47 GPA, babysat to make money AND had a social life.  Can you say WHAT?! 90 miles an hour with my hair on fire.  That is me.  I still go 90 miles an hour these days and the stress is different but still there.  Now instead of getting into college, it is finding a job.  Instead of paying for my mission trips, clothes etc, it's paying the bills.  Instead of the best GPA, it's being the best person I can be. 

Unfortunately, fat means fatigue, fatigue, fatigue.  Not to mention I take two allergy meds that both say: may cause drowsiness (uh, understatement!!!).  I have never been so tired in my life as I have been in the past couple years.

I have always heard that exercise gives you energy, but here on Day 5, I am totally exhausted.  I want to lay down for a nap for about an hour.  It would be so nice.  But I asked God to get me down that driveway.  My best friend has also suggested some modifications to what I was doing.  She said the situps are useless at this point and I need to focus on whole body.  So I am supposed to jump rope 1 min, pushups 1 min, lunges 1 min (no break) and then run my driveway down and back.  Then 2-3 min break and do it again.  It makes me tired just thinking bout it. 

Of course I also have to research sources for my papers, take a quiz for advanced financial accounting, send out a few resumes, turn the laundry over, do the dishes, switch my winter clothes to spring clothes, pay attention to my husband, get drinks for Beta Alpha Psi function tomorrow and go grocery shopping, not to mention get to bed at a decent hour (1130 would be awesome).  Fatigue. 

Did I mention it was a beautiful day outside?  I mean down right gorgeous?  And God spilt my dinner on my kahki's so I have to change...into my workout gear. 

You think I could outsource my nap?

Day One: Started blog over, ran down the driveway. 

Now this sounds a bit rediculous to some people: running down the driveway.  My Mom could run down her driveway in four steps.  Maybe more, she is short.  But her driveway is just a bit longer than the length of her car, which means it is not much of one.  But then again, I think she lives on a postage stamp.  Very small land. 

I live on a 65+/- acre farm.  I don't live on the edge of the farm.  I don't live at one of the four corners of the farm.  I live square in the middle of the pasture.  When I look out my front window: cows.  When I look out my back window: cows.  Doesn't matter where I am: cows. 

In order to get to where I live, it is .2 of a mile down a dirt road.  The entire length of the road, which runs right up to the fence gate is .25 of a mile.  This is not a friendly dirt drive.  It is not like oh, how sweet, I am driving to the little house on the prairie.  It is full of dirt, cow patties, a calf on occasion who gets out from under the wire, rocks, a golf ball (noticed it the other day buried deep), hills and dips and finally levels off at the road and or my shack.  It is dirty and rough.  But because it is a quarter mile long, it makes for nice laps.  Two laps = 1 mile.  I don't keep track of time or anything like that because it is just a miracle in and of its self that I am running at all. 

In order for me to get down my driveway, I pray in my morning prayers: God get me down that driveway.  Of course He doesn't put my running shoes on for me or plug my i-pod in or open the door to the shack to let me out.  I am not really sure what He does, but I still ask for help because when I have asked for help in the past, He always helps.

So I ran one mile.  I did 5 real pushups (not those pansy girlly ones that just unequalize the playing field and oppress women).  I did 100 crunches.  I did 40 bicep curls per arm.  It felt good.  I was sweating like those people in the gym. 

Here's to living on a farm with a built in track. 

Here's to my red dress with white polka dots.

  I suffer from two deadly sins: sloth and gluttony.  I don't ever want to do anything and I want what I want when I want it.  This is the King Baby syndrome, although I like to think of myself as a princess.  Yes, this is egotistical and down right repulsive, so welcome to my innards.  I am not a goddess as those transcendentalists women say about themselves.  I don't like to pretend I am something I am not just to make me feel better about myself.  It is unrealistic, and I am unrealistic enough with my princess hat.  I am who I am, for better or for worse.  I have come to a point in my life where I am sick and tired of being sick and tired of my gluttonous and slothful ways.  I am at a jumping off place.  I am willing to go to any lengths to change...my body.  I am sick and tired of the way I look and act to look that way! 

So a little about me...starting with my weight.  I am 175 lbs.  It is not the heaviest I have ever been, but it is not who I want to be either.  I am 5'4" so this is a little on the chunky side. 

Goal One: Lose 40lbs: I have heard that "you" should have a flexible weight range because we are never one steady eddy weight so I would like to be between 135-145 lbs. 

I am a size 12 in Walmart jeans, but a size 14 in just about everything else.  I wear a size DD bra which is totally uncomfortable and literally back breaking.  I hate it.  I would love to be a C again.  I wear large to exta large shirts depending on the maker.  I don't even want to talk about dresses bc it would mean showing my legs which used to be a great asset and now have things like stretch marks and early signs of spider veins.  Bathing suits are out of the question this year unless...I feel like my body is screaming at me to lose the weight.  It is embarrasing to shop for clothes and when I get dressed in the morning there is nothing, just absolutely nothing that looks good on other than a tent that I can hide under and hope no one notices me, which with my personality is virtually impossible. 

Goal Two: Size 8? That would mean I would lose 4 sizes.  Is that 40lbs? I don't know.  I hope so.

I love to eat what I want to eat when I want to eat it.  I love Moose Tracks Icecream; Hotdogs with ketchup, mustard and relish and a little cheese; Meat Lovers PIZZA with dough crust; White Cheddar Cheezits by the box; Spaghettios, spaghetti for that matter.

Goal Three: Eat more fruits and veggies, less junk

I used to be an 8 Varsity letterman in high school.  Mostly, I liked the social nature of sports.  I like the teams.  I liked that even though I was totally wrung out from swimming a bazillion laps in the pool, Casey would look at me and go: you can do it, get in there and then he'd dive out in front of me without listening to my "yeah, but"s, so I would be forced to follow him and in the water I'd go.  These days, I do nothing.  When I say nothing, I mean nothing.  I watch lots of tv, read a few text books, facebook and make dinner.  Sometimes I don't even do chores, just because it is exhausting to do. 

Goal Four: Do SOMETHING.  Preferably chores and exercise.

I should mention, I have a huge spiritual component to my life.  While I am egotistical as all hell, I am also beginning a journey with the God of my understanding, which for those of you who don't know, that would be GOD.  I don't think there are more than one, although Genisis is raising some questions about that as it refers to God as a plural beings.  Anyway! I am nine years and nine months down this path.  There are several things I do on a daily basis, without fail: 1) I pray every morning and every night 2) I try to practice spiritual principals such as being honest, having integrity, awareness of God, helping others, discipline. 

Goal Five: Put God in my eating habits, my dress size, my exercise and ask for help to eliminate my selfishness.  Make me a temple for the Lord as they say. 

It feels like I should have a date to work on some of these...

Goal Six: Wear the red dress with polka dots (sz 10) to my July 4th party!

Seems like I should have 7 goals since it is a holy number...

Goal Seven! Keep the blog up. 

My auditing class has been so different from my other classes. I went to the class with the same professor that I have had over and over and she began the lecture. Not for the first time, it sounded a little like she was speaking Greek. I thought maybe, just maybe I will read the chapter and it will translate better. Maybe, I am just having a distracted day bc it is the first day of class and I am so grateful to be among my friends. I don't usually read the chapters in her courses but that is probably why I have never made an A in her class either!

So I read the first chapter. "Assurance services consist of two types: those that increase reliability and those that involve putting information in form or context of decision making...A major subset of assurance services is called attestation services. To attest to information means to provide assurance to its reliability." Do we like circles? Are we insane? Is it just me or is this GREEK. Turns out, it is Auditing not Greek.

I have been hammering along, listening to lectures with detailed note taking; reading the book like a good girl; working with my teammate on "engagements" and online quizzes...greek.

And then tonight, the eve of the first Auditing Exam, it just happens. I read the sentence and understood it. There are students freaking out all over North Georgia studying for this exam and it hits me like a thunderbolt, I got it. I understand Auditing...well at least the four chapters I am going to take the test over anyway, but probably not so much for a section of the CPA Exam. Whatever.

So being the trooper I am and doing the due diligence for this Exam. Study, study, study....Pray, pray, pray.

Who knows, maybe I will start speaking Greek before it is all said and done.