In Which I Passed Through a Portal on the Day of the Blood Moon Whilst Buying Chicken


Yesterday was a troubling day.

Not only was it the day of the last of the blood moon tetrad, which was also supposed to usher in the end-of-the-world-financial-zombie-apocalypse (I’m not saying it still won’t), but I also passed through a portal that was most certainly at least ten more years away. I’m convinced this blood moon thing did something to speed up time. Read on to discover why.


It all started so innocently, as I’m told such things do. I was in the drive-thru buying some lunch for Isaiah and myself following the morning church service. Our house was full of guests (the evangelist and his fiance and a dog named Stella and the rest of our brood).  Since Isaiah and I were feeling poorly, we were on our way to a friend’s very quiet house to rest in quiet tranquility.  (Thanks, Christopher!)

Thinking a bit of chicken would perk us up, we waited in the looooooong  line that is our local southern fried chicken establishment. (It’s not that the lines are long, it’s just that this particular eatery always has extremely slow service).

Finally, I pull my car up to the window to pay for our order.


It looked innocent enough. Little did I know it was a portal to that dreadful place all women are convinced they will never pass through.

But I was wrong. It happened. Just like that. Right there in my car, wearing my Sunday best.  A handsome teenager sucked me into the vortex with seven devastating words:

  1. Would
  2. You
  3. Like
  4. The
  5. Senior
  6. Citizen
  7. Discount?


I took the selfie pic (below) of me this morning in my car, still perplexed that I had been so abruptly pulled into the whirlwind of senior citizenry. I’m still convinced it was a case of mistaken identity. (So, I may or may not have edited the photo to blur out a few wrinkles…there aren’t that many…,right? Right?)


Shouldn’t there be  some sort of warning before this happens? A summons delivered to your door by the sheriff? A text that asks you to enter a code for an option to delay said crossing over? A simple phone call?

Instead I’m now suffering from post-traumatic-they-think-I’m-antiquated-disorder.

Ahem. Just for the record? This is old:



This is not.



Now, excuse me while I call a plastic surgeon. Aging gracefully isn’t in my DNA. This girl’s going into it kicking and screaming.

Would you be so kind as to tweet?


Shouldn’t there be a warning before they suck you into the senior citizen vortex?

How KarlaAkins Passed Through a Portal on the Day of the Blood Moon Whilst Buying Chicken


My nostrils don’t match


You think you know yourself, and then one day, you record yourself singing at the piano and you’re like, WHAT? ONE OF MY NOSTRILS IS SMALLER THAN THE OTHER!

How does that happen?


You know how they say that the most beautiful people are symmetrical? Obviously I’m not one of those.


Source: Wikipedia

Actually, people with perfectly symmetrical faces aren’t the beautiful ones. Nowadays you have to have the golden ratio of phi to be beautiful. Someone’s even patented a mask based on that. I think they’re going to try to sell it to plastic surgeons and cosmetic companies, but I’m not sure.



Okay, so I may not have a perfectly-proportioned face. I know I’m not a classic beauty. Never claimed to be. It’s hard living with average looks in a world of golden ratios.



I guess that’s just another reason why I’m excited about Jesus coming to get us! We get glorified bodies!

“He will take our weak mortal bodies and change them into glorious bodies like his own, using the same power with which he will bring everything under his control” Philippians 3:21.

But the thing is, even if we are trapped in imperfect bodies, they are temples of God. And that makes them priceless.

“Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own.” 1 Corinthians 6:19.

God indwells this nostrils-don’t-match old lady. It’s good enough for Him. It should be good enough for me, and irrelevant. Sometimes, we are just too shallow and it makes me sad. I’m so glad He is faithful to love us no matter what!

His graciousness is just one more reason I sing.

Hopefully you can look past my non-matching nostrils and enjoy this song my husband wrote. It’s recorded during a live church service. To God be the glory forever and ever amen!


Tweet this: EEK! Did you know, @KarlaAkins, that your nostrils don’t match?

Do your nostrils match? Leave me a comment and let me know!