I'll do the serious first, since it's rather on my mind.
One of my good friends from way back (like 4 years old, that far back) is in the hospital right now. "Stable," but she almost died. I covet your prayers for her; she's a wife and mother of two, and she's been in hospital twice this past twelvemonth already--and this is completely unrelated. Gah!
The previous hospitalizations were for acute pneumonia. Sarah and I share a tendency towards respiratory infection, so this I understand, especially since she's got a 5yr old and a 2 yr old and runs herself ragged being a very good mom.
This time, though? A ruptured ectopic pregnancy. AKA, the fetus implanted in her Fallopian tube instead of down in the uterus, and when it got too big, it ripped open and she nearly bled out internally. *squirms in sympathy* I can only imagine how her husband's feeling--he adores her, and she almost died yesterday. Fortunately, there are grandparents and aunts/uncles to take care of the kids right now, but this is still just awful.
I'd be really grateful if some of you could take a moment and ask God for his healing and peace and presence.
Okay, onto the silly stuff.
I've been having the most bizarre dreams lately. Unfortunately, I tend to forget them upon waking. I didn't forget the one I had last night, though.
I can't recall every detail, but it was long, action-packed, and complicated. There were at least three distict adventures, with the common bond being that MacGyver (Richard Dean Anderson looking very attractive in the shorter hair) was traveling back in time to fix things that might have gone wrong.
No, I have no idea why my subconcious turned MacGyver into Sam Beckett.
Anyway, I was travelling with him. There was much sneaking around to avoid creating paradoxes, etc.
One story, the last one, involved a minor scientist named Jack London. I though this was bizarre, because I know Jack London as an author (Call of the Wild, anyone?). It turned out that we were there to stop his scientific theories from being published, or something; anyway, he was back to being an author when we reached the present.
I blame that little plot twist on reading Brian Greene's "The Elegant Universe" right before bed.
But still...that was bizarre and kinda cool. :-)