sometimes reluctant

Winter Fun

2007-02-09T10:10:00.000-08:00

Characters created by Morgan:

Aren't they fun?

I Knew Better Than That!

2007-01-13T13:00:00.000-08:00

Wrestling has come to our house this year. It's a new sport for my best boy, and so far, he is getting physically dominated on a regular basis. Since watching and cringing are not helping, I've been paying attention in practice. I'm hoping to give him some helpful pointers. The boys rigorously chant some things. For instance:

Elbows out - look out! Elbows in - you win!
Hard Work Wins!!
Champions learn from their mistakes!

Now, I don't know anything about training techniques for wrestling, but I trust these are true and helpful principals. And, I've seen the basic stances and moves for both offensive and defensive performance. And, oh yea, I've witnessed quite a bit of conditioning (push ups, jumping jacks, etc....)

My little guy can shout the mantras with the best of them! He can demonstrate the 'penetration moves' and he can 'sprawl'. When they do drills, he looks good. He follows directions and practices each new move introduced. He's even getting strong enough to do push ups with pretty good form these days! I thought he was doing really well. Initially, I wondered if he's a natural. He has quickly picked up other sports.

Then they started moving from drills to wrestling. When matched with another wrestler, he seems to forget all the chants, the positions, and the training. The consequences of failure to implement in wrestling are ugly. Poor guy!

Watching this... well... it got me thinking. Knowledge is over-rated!

Knowing that two people need to work at communicating in a marriage is no substitute for a helpful discussion. Knowing how to pray has little value; but prayer can change everything! I know exercise has a positive impact on mood and energy level, but that knowledge does not give me the same benefit as working out. I know how to eat right, but it's still not healthy for me to choose to eat a whole bag of Fritos in ten minutes. I could go on...

Can you think of a few examples when knowledge in isloation has value? I'm having trouble coming up with many. Help me out if you can think of a few.

I think my best boy needs to think about implementation. And, I think I do too.

Happy New Year.

Merry Christmas

2006-12-12T19:09:00.000-08:00

If Santa DOES come to see me,
I hope he brings an MP3,
And perhaps a box of X,
And Nike shoes for all my treks.
Just maybe that would be enough,
For I need to amass some heaps of stuff.

Dinnertime Conversation

2006-10-17T18:47:00.000-07:00

Best Girl: In eight years I'll be a full fledged adult.

Me: I hope that you'll have everything you need by then for a wonderful life...

Best Boy: Like a dog.

Oh My Aching Head

2006-10-02T08:42:00.000-07:00

I recently had a headache. I don't mind admitting that I have little experience with headaches or any other chronic pain. Call me a wuss if you want, but this particular headache was very different than anything I've had the misfortune of experiencing before.

It hurt constantly across the top of my head, ear to ear, and increased in intensity when I would move my head, especially with large movements, like bending over. Also, my eyes hurt when I would re-focus. For instance, I hear a sound and instinctively look that way. Oohhh... And bright light hurt my eyes. And I couldn't sleep. And I couldn't quit using my eyes.

I tried some medicine, but it didn't have any impact. Was this because it was 4 years past the expiration date? No, we've been using it for 4 years just fine, albeit infrequently. I believe that over the counter pain relievers are stable compounds; they don't really change over time. But I've been wrong before. I tried an ice pack on top of my head. It helped some, but the benefit didn't last after the pack came off.

When it was time to get ready for work, I completed my mental checklist: Fever? No. Vomitting? No. Then go to work. It's the criteria I use to determine if my kids go to school. If it's good enough for them, it would work for me. Once at work, I'd try not to move my head much, and I'd try not to look anywhere. I wasn't sure how to avoid looking, but staying home didn't seem to be the answer. I was looking at home too.

When I arrived at work, I told some co-workers that I had a headache. I feared that my eyes might pop right out of my face and roll accross the room, leaving sticky lines on the floor. This would be shocking to a casual observer but seemed perfectly reasonable to me at the time. My co-workers insisted that I needed "Excedrin Migraine". One even said, "I have some in my car. Wait here." When he got back and offered me the remedy from his personal stash, I was hopeful.

Half an hour later, I could function. I wasn't ready to watch an air show, but I could walk and talk. I felt hopeful that my eyes could remain snuggly in their sockets. I could fulfill my professional duties. I could help my daughter with 4th grade homework - which is a smidge more difficult than the work for which I'm gainfully employed. Once I started using this medicine, I could sleep. Sigh. Life seemed manageable again.

I made a trip to the local pharmacy to stock up on this marvelous product. I even got some extra for my friend at work to refill his little bottle. I had to medicate for four days, then it went away. I'm not sure where it went, but I'm hoping the door closed tight behind it.

In the wake of this experience, I've talked with many people who have migraines. Just about everybody has them... or their spouse does... or somebody... Few people I know have no experience with this blight. I shouldn't complain about having only one.

I was very interested to discover how others survive these times. It seems most folks use the 'lay down, avoid the light, and wait it out' approach. That seemed reasonable but a bit reactive for me. I didn't like the idea of letting pain dictate my life. And avoiding light didn't seem like a good choice either. It didn't seem right to be convinced that my life is defined by faith, wholeness and light, yet lay motionless in the dark, passively waiting for the pain to subside. I just couldn't accept avoiding the light. It was too inconsistent with my stated values.

Even when it hurts, I don't think it's in my best interest to shut out light. Light and truth are similar. They hurt, and they also heal. In the case of headaches, I don't judge those who choose the dark. But for me, I'm going to give in to darkness in small doses. Even when the light hurts, I choose it over darkness.

Impatiens

2006-09-19T18:59:00.000-07:00

In the spring, a local boy scout rang my doorbell. He asked me if I would like to buy some flowers. Since there's a cub scout in residence at my house, I happen to know that the flower sale is instrumental in funding most of the boy scout events throughout the year.

Just so you know, I'm famously cheap. I LOVE a bargain. Nobody shops harder than I do to save a buck. And this flower sale was not a bargain. At all. But, I'm a neighbor... and I like boys... So, I signed up for a flat of impatiens.

When they arrived, they were puny and sickly looking. I hoped when I got them into some rich soil, and some nourishing water, and some marvelous sunshine (but not too much) they'd revive.

I planted them. And watered them. And they continued to look sickly. So I watered them some more. And it rained. And they still looked awful. I pulled up a few to make room for something that looked nicer. And it rained some more. They still looked puny. The other plants bloomed. They didn't.

So I approached the boy scout who sold them to me. I said, "The impatiens I got from you are not looking good. I planted them right away and I've watered them, but I don't think they're going to make it. Can you get me some more?" He said, "You can buy more if you want." "NO," I replied, "I don't want to buy more because the ones I already bought are dying. I'd like replacement flowers if there are any more." He shrugged his shoulders and said he didn't know about replacement flowers. But I could always buy more.

For weeks, every time I pulled into or out of my drive way, I grumbled under my breath about the boy scouts and those flowers.

About the time I quit complaining about them, they started to grow tall and bloom heartily. I then started grumbling about my throwing some of them out becuase I thought they were dying. Ever the miser.

Now, in late September, I'm getting comments about how those impatiens are flourishing. I told my father-in-law that as soon as I quit complaining, they just took off.

I wonder how many other things in my life would flourish if I would quit complaining and expect something beautiful to happen?

Tagged with The Book Meme

2006-08-21T06:01:00.000-07:00

I typically don't read. I know many of you are gasping in horror, but it's true. I have trouble with reading. I'm slow, and it's laboriouis for me. Since I've done a bunch of vision therapy exercises alongside my best girl, I think I'm a better reader, but I still don't enjoy it or do it much. Hopefully, I'll be able to answer most of the Book Meme though:

1. One book that changed your life
Recently, Train Up Your Child, by No Greater Joy Ministries.
Several decades ago, Romans. Especially chapters 5 and 6.

2. One book you've read more than once
Disappointment with God, by Philip Yancy.

3. One book that you would want on a desert island
Certainly I'd need a survival guide. You know, what's safe to eat... how to construct a shelter... how to locate a water source... This presupposes that I'm stranded without other people who know all these necessaries. Then again, I'd still like to have my own reference.

4. One book that made you laugh
Something's Fishy, Hazel Green, by Odo Hirsh
We're not finished with this one. I've been reading it aloud to my kids.

5. One book that made you cry
The Diary of Anne Frank

6. One book that you wish had been written
Overcoming Depression: a Two Day Journey
Or, Toilet Training Your Cat: a Two Day Journey

7. One book you whish had neer been written
Hmmm.....

8. One book that you are currently reading
Blood Money, by Thomas Perry
I trust that listening is enough. I have this audiobook from the library. It's a novel about a woman who is helping a girl escape from persueing mafia goons. So far, it's entertaining.

9. One book you have been meaning to read
The South Beach Diet, by Arthur Agatston, MD
I bought it beacuse I had several friends rave about it. Deep down, however, I don't believe it will say anything interesting. That's probably why I havn't read it.

10. Five People I tag to do this meme

The Cox Family
Susan
Anyone else who wants to tell about your literary journey (You can leave answers in the comments if you want to.)

Musings on Prayer

2006-08-07T05:09:00.000-07:00

I've got lots to learn about prayer. The more I experience it, the more I realize I'm not doing enough of it.

Before bed, my family usually has a brief time when we pray together. A few nights ago, my best girl (who is 10) prayed the following: "God, please take care of my family and my friends... whether I like them or not..." She had other things to say too, but that part struck me.

I'm going to make a point to add some people I don't like to my prayer list.

I hope they experience the presence of God Himself and know how loved they are.

Shock and Horror!

2006-07-21T10:54:00.000-07:00

We've been having some parenting challenges at our house. Our family seems to do really well with the structure imposed at school, so the mismatched days of summer are not looking good on us. During the childrens' ten-odd years on this green earth, we've tried a number of ways to help them develop strong character. Some have been more successful than others. Lately, we've had reason to question if any of our best laid plans have had any value.

With recent bouts of defiance, the rules have gotten tighter, as small deviations are not accepted. We've become very purposeful about keeping everything clear, consistent and even tough. Of course, our children feel persecuted. Truthfully, one of them feels persecuted much of the time... something aint right about that.

So, I have sought help. I've discussed the issue with trusted friends and family, gotten references for various materials, and I ordered a book from the internet. The mailman brought the book yesterday and I've started reading. It's pretty radical, but we're discussing all perspectives just now. I've been running the principals past my hubby to see if he thinks the ideas, or some pieces of them, could effect positive change. We've been talking lots about what changes we need to make to create the environment we all want for our family.

An interesting thing happened when the children caught wind of the new book. My best boy, asked if he could look at it. Stiffly, he picked it up. He carried it with his arms extended, far from him. He went straight to show it to his sister, saying, "Look, Mom's reading a book about how to get us to behave!" With an expression of shock he asked, "Are we that bad?!?" She got wide-eyed and said, "Why would Mom need a book?"

They were aghast that extreem measures are being employed. Horror of horrors - Mom's gone and bought a BOOK!

The Right Tool for the Job

2006-07-10T05:56:00.000-07:00

Interesting events started early at our house.

It all started with spooky, unidentified banging sounds. One hit a basement window getting my husband's attention, and he went to investigate for intruders. Assuming his role as household warrior, he armed himself with a giant flash light and located the offender. It was a young raccoon, who had a ravioli can stuck on its head. It occasionally beat the can on something, like our house, but the effort was to no avail. The can did not budge. By the time I arrived on the scene, it just wandered until it bumped something, then changed directions. Walking again... bam... turn right.... bam.... turn left.... It seems opposable thumbs are overrated when one's head is that stuck. (When my head is stuck where it shouldn't be, any skills in the world can't help me!)

The hubby roused me around 5:30, saying, "I'm sorry to wake you, but I need your help..." As I climbed out of bed, he appraised me of the situation. My first thought was, 'You wake ME for this crisis? Do I have some special ability I'm unaware of?' I thought he should call Steve, the crocodile-hunter-guy. He could have run down our street in the early morning twilight, wearing khaki shorts and boots, knowing there was a wild animal in crisis. He could have said, "Crikey!" when he saw the Chef-Boy-Ardee can. And, "We're just in time to lend a hand!" In retrospect, I'm glad I didn't verbalize my initial musings.

As I made my way to the back yard, I grabbed a towel. I learned this little trick years ago when I had a mean-spirited cat who particurlarly hated the vet. The wise doctor always threw a towel over him to keep injuries to a minimum. So we tossed the towel, and the hubby grabbed the moving lump. It growled. Once the squirmy thing was stabilized, I pulled on the can. Nothing happened. Wow! I tried again, but harder. Nothing. Wow again! That thing was REALLY stuck!

My next bright idea was to cut the can off. There was space enough on the top of the head for me to stick my finger in, so why not some tin snips? (I think that's what they're called.) So I charged off to the garage, successfully finding tools: pliers, scissors and a branch cutter for trimming trees. None of these were designed to cut metal, but I was in a terrible hurry. I headed for the back yard to give them a try. I feared beautiful thing would have a heart attack if we didn't do something soon.

None of the tools worked against the rigid lip of the can. I wasn't terribly surprised; I hadn't brought the right tool. And the raccoon had almost stopped struggling. I was concerned.

What to do? Look again for a more appropriate cutter? Call the Humane Society? Where was Steve?!? We had been struggling with this for quite a while, so we got a crate to put it in for safe keeping while we tried again to figure something out. When we put it in a small dog carrier, it flew into a panic. It freaked out at being enclosed and blind. It beat the can against the sides in rapid succession.

So, we brought it back out and I pulled again. It seemed like the raccoon pulled too, and Wil pulled - it was like Winnie the Pooh in the rabbit hole. And, with a wet 'POP!' I was holding a can. The raccon looked at me with surprise. It was adorable, with an oversized head and big eyes. It hadn't growled or fought us in a while, and I was tempted to pet it. Fortunately, I resisted.

When we released it, it ran away, glancing back over it's shoulder. I wondered what it thought of the out-of-the-darkness experience. Which was more scary, the darkness, or Wil and me? I wonder if it will decide that a can that size is just too small to get to the bottom of any more. I wonder if it will avoid our yard forever, remembering the terrifying experience? Or shrug it off, going on like nothing happened.

As I went back to bed, I was thankful that having the wrong equipment did not result in bad outcome. I don't know anything about animal rescue, and I didn't have a tool that would cut metal. I was not prepared.

How often I am unprepared in life! I don't know what's around the corner so I'm repeatedly unprepared! As I drifted off to sleep, I remembered this:

"If I have the gift of prophesy

and can fathom all mysteries

and all knowledge,

and if I have a faith that can move mountains,

but have not love, I am nothing."

Armed with love, I embrace this day, expecting this powerful love will be enough.

Cake

2006-07-06T05:51:00.000-07:00

I came across this peom, composed by my daughter for a 3rd grade writing assignment. Since we don't hear enough about cake, I thought I'd share this ode:

Cake

Chocolate, Vanilla, German Chocolate cake,
yummy icing cooling from the bake,
you will feel warm inside when you eat the cake,
it will smell good after the bake,
do you taste the icing... mmmmmm cake!

I wonder how many calories are associated with reading about the warmth, the smell, the taste of your favorite cake.

Boys

2006-06-16T08:48:00.000-07:00

I've been spending quite a bit of time at a local boy scout day camp. The weather has been glorious! The boys have been shooting with various implements: slingshot, BB gun, catapault, bow... They've done other things too, but if given the chance, they'd tell you about shooting. Good times.

I've noticed this week that three hundred fifty boys in the same place is a dynamic phenomenon. You never know what to expect. This is part of the fun.

While hanging out with a nine-year-old boy scout yesterday, I remembered that last year, he was on Luke's baseball team. Nick was memorable because he ran SOOOO FAST around the bases, and because he was difficult to pitch to (he was a little smaller than average).

In our community, 7 and 8 year old boys play 'Coach Pitch.' The coach throws pitches to his own team, in such a way that encourages hitting, which is helpful for those with emerging skills. My husband pitched last year for Luke's team. Nick was fun to watch because if he made contact at all, he was standing on base first before the other team knew what happened. Zoom! How'd he get over there?

Almost immediately after baseball season ended, soccer kicked off. (I know. Bad pun.) Nick was on Luke's soccer team too. When we arrived for the first practice, my husband (former-baseball-pitcher) greeted Nick with a big 'hello!' He felt familiar since they had just finished baseball season. Oddly, Nick did not answer. He looked shocked, and I overheard him say, "That's creepy .... Luke's dad is following me!"

I'm sure he eventually put it together that Luke's dad was present because Luke was on the same team, but I think Nick's thinking is not so unusual. We show up in life with an attitude that says, "I'm here, so this must be about me!" Then we draw silly conclusions based on this flawed assumption.

In my spiritual walk, I know I've done this. I've thought my spiritual journey was about making me a better person. Or, helping me deal with difficult situations. Or break bad habits. Or whatever. Actually, it's not about me at all. It's about glorifying God.

And He's always showing up.

Insufficient Effort

2006-06-05T10:37:00.000-07:00

I confess that I am aware of my inadequacy. I know I am not a good blogger.

If I was a good blogger, I would provide entertainment, wit and insight regularly - maybe even daily. As it stands, I’m on the once a month plan (and wit and insight could be questionable). With this frequency, I’m surprised you stop by at all.

I have had several encounters with the sacred that I have not yet recorded. I don’t want to forget what I learned, so I’ll be writing soon.

(There! I said it. Now I have to do it!)

Mother's Day Re-Visited

2006-05-16T17:36:00.000-07:00

Along with other surprises, I received a poem from my best girl on Mother's Day. The instructions indicate that she should fill in information about her mom to complete the poem. I have corrected some of the spelling, not because I'm fastidious about spelling, but because I just couldn't read it the way it was written. I needed her to read it to me. Since you don't have her to interpret, I've fixed a few words for you. Here it is:

If my mom were a flower, she would be a TULIP because SHE IS AS BRITE AS A TULIP.
If my mom were a song, she would be a LOVE SONG, because SHE LOVES ME A LOT.
If my mom were a super hero, she would be a MAGNET HERO, becuase I STICK TO HER LIKE A MAGNET!
If my mom were candy, she would be A LIFESAVER, because SHE WILL DO ANYTHING TO SAVE ME!
If my mom were a car, she would be a JET FUSION, because SHE IS FAST AND EASY GOING.
If my mom were a color, she would be BABY BLUE, becuase SHE IS AS KIND AS A BABY.
If my mom were an animal, she would be a RABBIT, because SHE IS GENTLE.
If my mom were a TV show, she would be a NATURE SHOW, because SHE LOVES NATURE.

Yes, I know that babies are not actually kind, they're egocentric. And, most moms may not appreciate being called fast. OK, I'll admit that I've never thought of myself as rabbit-like. But, if I was 'Magnet Hero' I could be a porcupine on Halloween by sticking nails to myself! How cool would that be?!

Really, though, I enjoyed being called gentle, loving and bright. Perhaps her characterization of her ma was biased because she is fond of me (or at least she's used to me). I'd be pleased if this was the way the world at large perceived me. That's unlikely, however. I think the poem says more about her than it does me. She's a one of a kind original.

Ahh... The Weekend...

2006-05-08T08:55:00.000-07:00

Don't ya just love weekends? Mine was extra full. Here's what happened:

Got my vehicle back. I wrecked it just one week before; that was quick! I had forgotten that we have a $500 co-pay. Ouch...
Got proof of insurance from the agent. My card was effective 5-09-06 thru 11-09-06, and the accident was 4-28. I needed documentation to keep me out of jail because I pre-payed the insurance! A lesson learned. It won't happen again.
Visited the court house in the town of the incident, with documentation in hand, and paid the ticket to avoid going to court. That ran $160, so my stupidity now is up to $660...
Returned a car to my parents who so graciously let me borrow theirs. Bless them! (I returned it dirty, BTW, and it usually isn't. That's tacky.)
Received a new freezer. The hubby emptied the old one and I made a list of the items that didn't survive the thaw.
Went to the bank to dispute that we got a late fee on an account that is paid by an automatic draft. That's just not right.
Played 3 games of volleyball. Everybody needs some play time.
Administered medication to my daughter, except for one dose, which we missed...oops... Stay gone strep throat!
Worked with aforementioned daughter to assist her in doing 3 days of make up work. I already have to use a calculator to check 3rd grade math! I anticipate trouble in the future.
Attended two of my best boy's little league games, and cheered loudly enough to embarassing my daughter and (she says) injure her fragile ear drums. I don't think she's really injured - just embarassed.
Shopped at Lowes for a door. Doors are good. A friend from chruch agreed to help us install the new door. I love that church!
Posted on Word Search. My post that should have been done Friday, but got published Saturday afternoon - sorry friends!
Got my son some new shoes. He was very excited about a pair of sandals that cost $7.99. That's one good thing about my best boy. There are others.
Attended a worship gathering. It was great.
Worked 4 hours at the local hospital. Remember the insurance deductable, the ticket, the door and the shoes? Maybe I should have picked up some more hours... (just kidding!)
Vacuumed the living room! That hardly ever happens! The carpet is aghast. Don't ask me how I know what the carpet is thinking.
Worked a little on painting the sea turtle's shell. A little paint goes a long way.
Massaged a knot in my husband's shoulder. That probably sounds nice, but it was actually quite painful (for him, not me). I wonder if he can move his arm today...

The most important thing in the weekend was simple. I tried to find grace along the way; to remember there are no non-sacred moments. Here's where that took me:

I realized that things get fixed fast when they're in the hands of an expert. Imagine what God can do with me when I put myself in His hands.
I learned that stupidity cost us more than I think it will. That's even more true with moral issues than with minivans.
Sometimes details matter. (even tiny dates on cards) A little more attention to detail wouldn't hurt me a bit.
I depend a lot on my parents. They loan me their car, and help care for my sick child while I work. I'm not nearly as independent as I think I am.
Spoiled stuff needs thrown out. This needs done internally and externally, and frequently!
I should have tried harder to master multiplication the first time around.
It's OK to scream "WooHoo! Nice hit!!!" even if some people won't sit with you. Others will.
Matthew 21 had a message for me. Thanks, Word Search!
Letting light in is worth the investment. Perhaps I'll post a picture of the new front door some time.
I'll stop, but there's more.....

If you made it this far, I applaud you. Sorry for the length of this ramble. I'm trying to be intentional about developing my eye for seeing the sacred in what I would otherwise consider mundane. As with other disciplines, it's harder to do it alone. Thanks for joining me.

Blazes!

2006-04-25T17:34:00.000-07:00

We have a freezer in the garage that is nearly full of food. It's not frozen food because at some unknown time, the freezer simply stopped freezing. It would be great if the freezer had some way of notifying us that it was not functioning. If it did, we could make other arrangements. But it's just a freezer; and freezers are not communicative, so we were obvlivious to the onset of the thaw.

When we discovered a ton of thawing meat this weekend, I decided I’d better start cooking it before it was too late. I had pork chops, a roast and chicken breasts in the oven, ground beef on a burner and I was frying bacon. It was the most meat I’ve ever attempted to cook at once, I think.

When it comes to bacon, I prefer turkey bacon. I don’t buy pork bacon because it is greasy, in my opinion. None-the-less, being the miser I am, I could not let it spoil. So I stood in the kitchen frying bacon (the greasy, unfamiliar kind) in a very flat, square griddle, while baking and browning various other meats at the same time. (Sorry Jennifer. I know this may be disgusting you beyond words.)

Before I knew it, bacon grease runneth over; it needed to be drained. I grabbed the first receptacle I noticed and poured the grease out of the corner of the pan and into the cup, all the time thinking, “I think I have some nice turkey bacon in the fridge.” The grease container I selected so quickly was a plastic cup.

The boiling hot grease walked straight through the bottom of the flimsy cup and marched onto the hot, flat-top burner. WHOOOSH!!!! There was a ball of flames the size of a beachball right before my eyes!

Before I explain my response to this development, let me first admit, I am an occupational therapist. One of the roles of the hospital based OT is to do ‘home safety evaluations’ for patients to determine if they are safe to go home without assistance. I know all about home safety. I’m also certified by the state of Ohio to be a ‘First Responder’ in an emergency. You see, I have professional training. Ironic, isn’t it? There I stood, staring at a fire I started in my own kitchen. It leaves me wondering, do I need to be supervised to ensure my own safety? And that of my family?

So, I drew on my knowledge of home safety. I remembered that a grease fire needed to be handled differently than other types of fires. My heart was racing and I stared, repeating over and over, “a grease fire….a grease fire…a grease fire.....” My immobilizing fear served me well. The grease burned away and the fire went out on it’s own. Shortly thereafter, the smoke alarm started screaming. It did not scream because there was a fire - it was simply scolding me.

When my blood pressure returned to triple digits, I remembered that you never use water on a grease fire. No worries that I would do that – or anything else for that matter! I tried the stare-it-down method and it worked. Now that I'm thinking again, I wouldn't recommend the stare-it-down method for fires. It may not always work so well.

In conclusion, I learned a few things:

Fear is incredibly powerful.
Knowledge is overrated and training is useless when we’re standing in fear.
If fear is my primary consideration, I’ll never USE what I learn, know or practice.
Sometimes the things I fear are silly. For instance: failure, criticism, looking foolish, or someones disapproval. These fears may be valid to consider in passing, but not to motivate or immobilize me.
I may not always recognize when fear is keeping me from moving forward. Many of my fears are not as obvious as a fire close enough to warm my nose.

By the grace of God, I did not burn the house down. My family is snug in bed, blessed and safe. In the next crisis, I hope my mind will work some. Maybe enough to factor in - perhaps in some small way.

Before the next crisis, I'm going to be on the look out for fears that immobilize. Maybe some of those fears are valid, but I suspect most are not.

No Way!!!

2006-04-11T10:58:00.000-07:00

In casual conversation today, one of my students told me she has a dog named "Luke". I responded that I have a son by the same name and she was astonished. She said, "What a wacky name for a boy!" I mentioned that it is a Bible name saying, 'There is a book of the New Testament written by a man with that name." I thought this may give credence to the name being a person name first. She said, "The Bible sure does have some wild names for people," to which I replied, "Yep....it certainly does."

I wonder how many 'Luke is a dog's name' or 'the world is flat' assumptions I make in the average week without realizing my perspective is limited.

Away

2006-04-01T18:01:00.000-08:00

We're doing a week-long family thing.....

Details to follow.

What Did It Cost?

2006-03-27T08:55:00.000-08:00

Christmas kittens. The two little girls arrived on Christmas Eve and have been the prized possessions of the children since. My best girl chose the name 'Zana' for her sleek, black kitty; "it's Spanish for 'princess'," she explained. My best boy's fuzzy, stripped kitten would be called, 'Lola'.

When they got their last shots, more development had occurred. It had become clear that Zana was male. I don't know how I hadn't noticed, but I was accustomed to saying, 'the girls,' so maybe I didn't want to see it. "Have you fed the girls?" "Do the girls have water?" My daughter did not miss a beat. She changed her kitten's name to a more masculine monicre, but he may always be 'Princess' to me. Old habits die hard. (I'm still pressing for 'Zana-dude' but she won't hear of it. It's goofy.)

Since it's time for the kittens to get 'altered,' I have been doing some research to find out the most economical way to have these surgeries done. It turns out there's economical benefit to having a male cat when it comes to reproductive surgery. It's a less expensive, less invasive surgery. Maybe I'll break down and learn his name after all!

As I prepared to take the kittens to their schedulled appointments, I started the necessary education of the children about the 'after care' rules: "The kittens will be sore.... We cannot pick them up for two weeks..... Blah, blah..."

I then realized something. The children, who are the owners of the kittens, were not AT ALL on board with my plans. They wanted baby kittens. "Kittens are SO CUTE!!!" they exclaimed. I recited multiple reasons responsible pet owners limit the pet population, but they were not moved. They did concede that siblings should not have babies together, but they were willing to bring non-related spouses into the picture right away. They were match-making on the fly. A kitten-mill plan was hatched before my very eyes!

I assured them no litters of baby kittens were forthcoming. I argued that hundreds of cats are killed every day in our area because they don't have homes. I told them when they grow up and have their own homes, they can try to rescue all those cats if that's their life's work, but that I am unwilling to do so. I insisted that the surgeries would occur as planned. (Life can be harsh.)

My little man-child is an entrepreneur. He said, "We can sell them and make lots of money!" I told him nobody sells kittens. There are already too many...blah, blah... He argued, "But you bought them for us for Christmas, right?" "No," I told him, "they were free." He was quiet for several seconds before asking, "You mean the best Christmas present EVER was FREE?!!??"

We had a beautiful moment as we discussed how so many of the best things in life are free. I was surprised at how many blessings they indenified together. How blessed we are!

The kittens are now non-productive members of society.

The best things in life are intangible.

All is well.

Isn't It Great!

2006-03-22T09:18:00.000-08:00

A little guy I barely know approached me today with a shoe in his hand. He was wearing the mate. He thrust the shoe toward me so I could inspect it carefully. He spoke with a delighted squeal, saying, "I got the pink-eye and I stepped in dog poop! Isn't it great!"

I was surprised. Yep, there was the dog poop... and the pink eye.

Is it great?

If he thought it was great, then it must indeed be great. I'm looking forward to the next 'pink-eye-and-dog- poop' situation, metaphorically speaking. I want to try out that attitude.

He was certainly contagious.

Do It Anyway

2006-03-06T07:54:00.000-08:00

People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered; forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies; succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you; be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight; build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, there may be jealousy; be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow; do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough; give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God; it was never between you and them anyway.

Mother Teresa

Thanks, Lorna, at See Through Faith!

Lent

2006-03-02T11:52:00.000-08:00

I am a protestant Christ follower. I have absolutely nothing against my Catholic friends, but I'm not Catholic.

None-the-less, I like the idea of setting aside this season to remember the events leading up to the resurrection. In years past, I've given up a variety of things for lent. When challenged, I said to myself, "identifying with the suffering of Christ..." over and over again. In reality, I acknowledge I didn't actually identify with His suffering. I've never suffered that intensly.

This year, I'm going a different direction. I've giving up NOT EXERCISING for lent. I'm parting ways with SLOTH. Let LAZINESS be gone!

I publish this here, because if I don't tell anyone, it won't happen. So, feel free to ask about it. Hold me accountable for bringing the flesh into submission this holy season.

Maybe I'll learn something.
(If I do, I'll pass it on...)

I Saw Something Beautiful

2006-02-27T08:36:00.000-08:00

A first grade teacher I know asked me to read/edit her letter of resignation today.

It is apparent in the letter that she had not been invited back next year because they don't have a position for her. She did not choose to retire, although she could have done so for many years. When they need to hire another first grade teacher, they can replace her with someone cheaper. The decision was economic - not based on her performance.

In the letter she stated, "I always said I'd quit when it did not impact me to hear, 'Look! I can read this!' Thankfully, that will never happen." She spoke in her letter of the joy and growth of first grade and how there is no greater priveledge than being a part of it. She thanked the board for the honor of serving on such a great team for so many years.

We cried together. Her tears, I think, were because of loss. I cried because her gratitude touched me.

She made a choice to be grateful, to appreciate the priveledge, to be thankful for a job that never became a mundane set of responsibilities. Her career has been beautiful. The attitude of her resignation is beautiful.

She said, "I used the word 'priveledge' too many times." And "There may be punctuation errors...I just wrote from my heart... I didn't take the time..."

I told her I wouldn't change a thing.

The Indiscretion of Youth

2006-02-21T16:42:00.000-08:00

Stephanie, is a single mom of a 15 year old boy, and she's my friend. Josh, the son, never knew his dad, who died when he was a baby. Stephanie has always been concerned about the absence of a father in his life. Like any mom, she wants more than anything for Josh to grow up to be a well adjusted, confident person whose character is lacking nothing.

With considerable prayer and deliberation, Stephanie decided to provide a Christian education for Josh. She was moved by the mission of Troy Christian Schools which states, "We exist to uphold God’s truth as we assist parents in the education of their children’s minds and the transformation of their hearts in a Christ-centered learning environment," and "The heart of education is the education of the heart. (Luke 6:45)" Upon admission, they discussed being a “family” as they worked together to not only provide academic training, but spiritual training as well. Josh started first grade in this community and never looked back. Over the years, he became very connected - like family. Significant sacrifices were made to keep Josh in this setting, but he's worth it.

In early February, an upper classman friend called Josh crying. She was a senior and was distraught. The crying friend requested Josh call another student to vent her anger. Josh made the call from home, on the weekend (he thought anonymously). It did not involve the school in any way, but since the school community is a ’family’ they became involved. Josh had used inappropriate language and content. It was ugly.

Josh was suspended from school. At the completion of the suspension, Steph and Josh met with the administration of the school to discuss the situation. It went as you would hope it would go. They began the meeting with prayer, requesting wisdom. They held Josh accountable for his inappropriate behavior. They asked him why they should allow him to continue to be a student at this institution, reminding him he was attending a private school with Christian standards.

Josh informed the administration that he had apologized to the girl he had offended. He acknowledged that the call was offensive and wrong. He was sorry. He signed a contract that he would never participate in this type of activity again. He agreed to meet with the school counsellor. He would do 20 hours of community serivce.

Following their own standard of, 'SALT: Speak, Act, Look, and Think like Jesus', they placed hands on his shoulders and said, “We extend grace to you because Jesus extended grace to us.” He was appreciative. To err is human; to forgive is divine. The meeting ended with an embrace.

On the way home Stephanie received a phone call from the principal. “I’ve changed my mind. Josh is not Troy Christian material.” Steph, stammering, asked, “But, what about grace?” The principal replied, “I didn’t feel good about it.” The options presented were to withdraw or be expelled.

It seems to me that so many aspect of this story are very wrong:

First, the decision to make the call was wrong. The language, tone and content - yep, everything about it was wrong.

Secondly, taking the issue to the school was, in my view, not the best decision. I have not had contact with the offended family, but I think if my daughter got an abusive telephone call and I could identify the kid who did it, he’d be dealing with me in a VERY DIRECT way. There would be no misunderstanding possible when I showed up at his door. I suspect he’d remove our number from his telephone directory - and fast!

Mostly, the administration extending grace, only to revoke it an hour later - that’s wrong! It shocks me that the principal transferred his judgment from the offensive behavior and went straight to character assassination; he's just not "Troy Christian Material." What, exactly, does that mean?

Steph approached the school to inquire about using the school's home school network. She hoped to access the curriculum to finish out the school year. They said no. The school had no concern for his academic progress, spiritual growth, or even fulfilling the contract they had just initiated. He had been kicked to the curb.

“Josh is not Troy Christian material.” In light of recent events, I hope not.

Ahh, The Vanity!

2006-02-13T06:50:00.000-08:00

My favorite neighbor, a 9 year old playmate of my daughter, was visiting this week. She asked me, "Mrs. P, how old are you?" My best girl shouted, "FORTY!!!" as if that's the largest number imaginable. Kia, the neighbor girl, was agast. She asked, "Is that true, Mrs.P?!?!?" I tried to be confident and self-assured as I confirmed this number. I disagree with the children's assessment that being 40 is undesirable. Kia, still wide eyed in surprise said, "I would have guessed much younger!"
What a nice response! So, I was curious. I asked, "How old would you have guessed?" She looked carefully at me and said, "Twenty one, and very tired... because of the bags under your eyes." I'm so glad I asked.

A Disembodied Head

2006-02-06T17:52:00.000-08:00

My best girl wants an aquarium theme in her room, so I'll be painting fish for a while. I like to paint. A month or so ago, I painted the blue background, and today, I launched into painting the sea turtle she wants just inside her door.

After pencil sketching an outline, I gathered some paints, a piece of cardboard for a palette, and a few brushes. I began working toward creating a sea turtle where there was none. I like the way the head is looking. It's 9:00 and time to walk away, clean my brushes and call it a night. Unfortunately, that leaves a reptilian-looking-disembodied-head on the wall. It looks funky. (I took a picture but can't figure out how to get it off the camera. Sigh...)

It's a little frustrating to leave a creation unfinished. I'm reminded that God spoke the sea turtle, and all other fascinating creatures, into being - and there they were. Cool.

Yet God does have some unfinished creations. Like me. I wonder if He shakes His head the way I do looking at the disembodied head of the sea turtle, envisioning the finished project and having to wait for fulfillment of the plan.

More To The Story!!!

2006-02-02T12:51:00.000-08:00

I'm delighted to report there is new information regarding Anna, my husband's recently deceased cousin (see "I Have A Dream, Revisited" from a few days ago).

So here goes...a year ago, she 'retired' from her film making career.
Good stuff, huh? Well, you aint heard nothing yet...

Recently she returned to church and made a committment to follow Jesus. How bout that?!? He was at work; we just didn't know about it.

It appears she's alive.

To Spear, Or Not to Spear?

2006-02-01T09:15:00.000-08:00

My husband sent me to an article at MSNBC.com entitled, 'Love the Film, Hate the Sin? Christians Debate." It covers Christian's acceptance and rejection of the film,"Into the Spear," and the position of Steve Saint, the person the movie is based on. Since I don't know how to create a link, but I know how to cut/paste, here is the text:

Feb. 6, 2006 issue - Chad Allen: former drug-using teen heartthrob, lapsed Roman Catholic, gay activist and ... Christian missionary. The choice of the openly gay Allen as the lead actor in "End of the Spear," a new Christian-made movie about the real-life story of a son who makes peace with an Amazon tribe that killed his missionary father, has created a dilemma for moviegoers who want to support the movie's message, but not its messenger. "This story is perhaps one of the most precious, well-known mission stories of the last century," says Jason Janz, an assistant pastor in Colorado who brought attention to the issue on his fundamentalist blog, SharperIron.org. "I believe it was bad judgment to cast one of Hollywood's foremost gay activists in the leading role." But, at the same time, other religious leaders—including Jerry Falwell, who has publicly preached against homosexuals—are encouraging their congregations to see the movie.

The schizophrenic response from the Christian community is a blow to the movie's producers, who were hoping for a unified "Passion of the Christ"-type turnout. "It's disappointing," says Jim Hanon, the film's director and co-writer. "Especially because the message of the story is that you should reach out in love to people you disagree with."

When the movie's producers offered the part to Allen, who currently attends a Christian congregation, they didn't know he was gay. (The producers aren't exactly the target audience for The Advocate, which put Allen on the cover when he came out in 2001.) Ultimately, the decision to leave Allen in the role was left up to the man the movie is based on, Steve Saint, since Allen was set to play Steve—and his slain father—in the film. "My dad was my hero, and the thought of someone playing him that advocates that lifestyle made me very uncomfortable," says Saint. "But I realized it wasn't for me to condone or to condemn what Chad does or doesn't do. That is God's prerogative. And I feel that God had his hand in setting up this complex scenario for Chad to play this part."

Not everyone agrees that Allen is God-sent. Janz recently got more than 100 pastors to join him in signing a letter to the movie's producers saying that they couldn't in good conscience support the film. There is, however, one upside to having Allen in the movie. "I'm absolutely sure we're having people check it out that never would have gone to a 'Christian' movie," says Allen. "I went with 30 of my close friends, and we walked away having these amazing spiritual conversations together." Which is exactly what both Saints were trying to do in that Amazon jungle.
—Elise Soukup

I wish it made the paper that the Christian community is united around feeding the hungry, or providing inexpensive babysitting for single moms. Or providing respite for grandparents who are raising their grandchildren. I wish we were accessing the power of Christ to stomp out the power of addiction in our personal lives and then sharing this hope of freedom with others. I wish we were known for taking a stand for loving our neighbors in a way that makes our communities attractive enough to raise property values. I wish we making a stir by praying for our kid and their teachers, and thus improving national test scores.

OK, I'm rambling. I'm sure there are better examples. But isn't there something worth doing out there? Why argue about who plays a part in a movie?

Can You Change Your Mind?

2006-01-26T13:25:00.000-08:00

I wrote a letter a while back, to a family member who was terminally ill. I was absolutely convinced that it was an inspired word from God to this precious, dying man who did not have faith at this crucial time. Here's what it said:
Hello,
Whenever mortality becomes real, people of faith want to talk about faith because it provides answers to some of the questions raised by mortality. I recognize, however, that faith answers are only ANSWERS for those who have faith in the first place. It’s circular. So, I expect you’ve heard from people about faith lately, and I guess I wanted to join the fray and throw a few thoughts your way. Please take my thoughts for what they are worth and feel free to disregard them if they don’t fit. I won’t take offense.
First, eternity - or the expectation of eternity - is pleasant for people of faith. It is a fairy tale for those without. Since I came to faith as an adult, I remember thinking, “ Sure, that’s a great thing if you believe it. But I just don’t. ”
Secondly, I think it’s hard for adults to have a significant change of mind (about anything). If we make a big change in what we believe, it means we reject long held beliefs as wrong - and if you can’t trust what you believe, whose beliefs CAN you trust!?! This makes us tend to stay in the camp we’re in - right or wrong. Perhaps the longer we’ve been in one camp, the more we want to stay there. If we change, we might have to consider ourselves fickle, or hypocritical, or otherwise weak-minded. So, we get stuck believing a certain way because we have always believed that way.
Thirdly, it’s hard for adults to accept Christianity because it doesn’t all add up exactly. It only goes so far intellectually, than requires a person to accept some impossibilities (for example: virgin birth, resurrection of the dead…). We are taught by life not to accept a package unless it can stand pretty serious scrutiny.
On the other hand, there are unexplainables in favor of the Biblical perspective. For instance, there are lots of examples of things being foretold in detail, thousands of years before they actually happened. I suppose regardless of one’s position regarding Christianity and the Bible, there remains plenty of mystery to grapple with.
Lastly, it’s easy to identify ourselves as imperfect, but not as easy to accept that God of the universe IS, and has a specific concern and remedy for our imperfection.
So, I apologize for going a bit long, but I simply wanted to encourage you to consider if some of your beliefs remain because they are long-held, and thus feel like they need to be protected. Could you reconsider the possibility of the existence of God, using creation as evidence of a creator? Could you imagine a creator desiring to know his creation - to befriend those He made? Thanks for considering these thoughts,
Love, Julie

As I finished the letter, the phone rang and I was informed that he was gone. I was told that same morning that he had 90 days, or thereabouts. I was cheated!!! I'm still not sure what to think about the timing.
I still think it's hard to change a mind. Especially mine.

I Have a Dream (Revised)

2006-01-26T11:15:00.000-08:00

I no longer dream of mansions. While awake, I never did, so perhaps my subconscious has caught up with my waking mind. The dream theme, however, continues.

My kids each wrote a "I Have a Dream" paper last week, in honor of Dr Martin Luther King. I thought they each had an interesting dream for making the world a better place:

Luke, the 2nd grader wrote: "I have a dream that everyone would have $150 dollars. And that everyone would have a kitten. Then everybody would be happy." How could they not? You might have to modify this plan if you're allergic to cats. Also, I'm not sure if there are specific guidelines for obtaining the $150, but it's something to consider if you're unhappy.
Morgan, who is in 3rd grade wrote: "I have a dream that people would not have sin in their lives, making them mess up all the time." I was surprised that Morgan was concerned about sin and it's impact. I thought every unhappiness in the lives of my children was my fault, but perhaps not. It is a refreshing twist.

Last evening, we received sobering news. My husband's cousin had died yesterday morning. She was the passenger in a car accident and didn't survive. She was in her early forties.

We didn't have regular contact with Anna. I only met her one time, and although I remember her, I doubt that she remembered me. She was high, or drunk, or somehow altered. It was probably stressful to be at a family gathering and so maybe she self-medicated to help deal with it. Her profession was adult entertainment (porn) and she struck me as quite lost.

Now she's gone. I didn't know Anna well, but today I grieve lost lives that are not spent well, and don't get found. I'm adopting a variation of Morgan's dream, that people would not have sin in their lives making them feel like they mess up all the time.

Perhaps Anna turned things around before facing eternity. I SO hope so. After reflecting on Morgan's dream, I think the ugliest thing about sin is not that it makes us mess up all the time, but that is keeps us from reaching up - grasping for the ONLY ONE can free us.

Making a Mark

2006-01-21T09:15:00.000-08:00

Ok, I admit it. I've been crying alot.

One of the reasons is that we're nearing the end of a gospel in the virtual Bible study.
It's http://cybergroup.epiccommunity.com/ if anyone stops by and doesn't know what I'm referring to (which is hard to imagine).

Anyway, near the end of all four gospels is a disturbing revelation. This wonderful, compassionate, gentle, POWERFUL, loving person was cruelly killed by a bunch of jerks! The God I love planned it that way. That's not a pretty chapter in human history. I don't like it at all! I recognize it was the ANSWER for all mankind, but I still don't like it.

Anybody wanna set me straight?

Celebration

2006-01-13T16:45:00.000-08:00

I learned something about celebrating this week from my kids and Katie, our neighbor.

My general attitude about birthdays is this: everybody's got one, so what's the big deal? Now for children, it's different. But the special day this week was of the adult variety. Wednesday was my husband's 43rd birthday.

I took the kids to pick out a card. They found one they thought was hilarious; they were absloutely cracking up in the aisle at Walmart. They laughed until they cried. It was something about coughing up a hairball for a gift. I shrugged my shoulders and we got it. They were giggling in the check out line.

We signed it and got ready for the birthday boy's arrival home. They were still cracking up about that goofy card. I knew he couldn't possibly enjoy recieving the card half as much as they enjoyed giving it. A card this good needed a bold pronouncement, they decided. We would surprise him when he got home. We would all hide and jump out and yell, "Surprise!!" and then produce the hilariously funny card.

Katie, our 7 year old neighbor, happened to be over. They showed her the beacon of humor. I don't think she was as tickled by the hairball card as the other two were, but she was certainly excited about surprising her playmates' dad when he arrived home. The jump-out-and-yell-surprise plan was GREAT!!! So, we turned out the lights hid behind the couch and waited.

And waited....

And waited.............

(I wish he'd told me he was running an errand on the way home...)

And waited.................................

Eventually, he arrived. On the count of three, we jumped up and we yelled. He was indeed surprised. He read the card. He chuckled. I thought it was cute. Kinda fun. I was done.

The kids were delighted! Katie said, "I can't wait for next year!" and "I can stay for cake." There was no next year plan. There was no cake plan. Katie needed to call her mom. But Katie was ready to party and her mom said ok, though I think she thought it was strange.

The kids decided every party needed a dancing contest and they tried out a few moves.

The cake was in the oven while we ate. Katie stayed for dinner. The kids decorated the cake with way too many sprinkles. We had candles, but no match to light them. Oh, well.

It was a fun celebration. I hope Katie makes it to next year's party. Otherwise, some scrooge like me will not have a party at all!

Any day is a good day to celebrate.

Is Daniel Out There?

2006-01-10T18:25:00.000-08:00

Friends, I have a dream...that a man would be judged, not by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character. Wait a minute - that was someone else's famous dream. Although that dream sounds incredible to me, I have been having another kind of dreams.

On Friday, Mike, our next-door neighbor stopped by to inform us that they are moving. Then on Saturday they moved. It seemed sudden to us, but we knew they had been considering it for a long time and we had had been missing them for several weeks. We talk alot when the kids are outside playing, but this time of year we sometimes have limited contact with the neighbors.

Since that announcement and the subsequent move, I've been dreaming about the house next door. In my dreams the house is transformed into a mansion. Similar to steping into the wardrobe and finding Narnia, the cute 3 bedroom ranch next door becomes a mansion in my dreams.

For four nights running I've dreamed about moving next door into that beautiful home. The first night, I enjoyed a warm bubble bath in the splendor of the enormous bathroom. It was opulent with fine tile and fixtures. The lighting was golden and beautiful. I was very relaxed.

The second, I spent on the patio. It was also grand in scale, and lush. Last night, I went upstairs (did I mention it's a ranch?) and spent time in the arcade with friends. It was musical, magical and fun.

I typically don't remember dreams, and can't remember ever experiencing such a series of interrelated dreams.

Any interpreters out there?

New Testament in 2006

2006-01-02T18:24:00.000-08:00

On the odd chance that anyone who stops here does not already know, four friends and myself have decided to study through the New Testament together in 2006. If you'd like to join us, we have a cite called "Word Search," which can be found at http://cybergroup.epiccommunity.com/. Read! Comment! See you there!

The first day, we read and commented on the first chapter of Mark. After sitting with this passage for a while, I noticed two interesting things:

First, I love my grandmother's large print study bible. I've never used it before. I grabbed it out of the garage for no reason. Wow! I like those big letters!!

Secondly, Mark charges through the early ministry of Jesus. There's no linage, birth, boyhood teaching... none of that context stuff. He jumps right into the ministry of this messiah, telling of:

the forerunner
the baptism
the temptation
the calling of the disciples
driving out evil spirits (and he silenced them)
healing Simon's mother-in-law (as well as everyone else who needed it in Capernum it seems)
travelling in the night to avoid the crowds
healing the man with leprosy
needing to stay outside towns in 'lonely places' to avoid being mobbed.

Whew! That's a busy guy, that Messiah! It must have been a burden to be the one who was exactly what EVERYBODY needed - all the time! What a life.

It says that in one day he: taught in the synagogue, went to Simon's house, healed the lady of the house, had a meal (busy, busy).... then after sunset people brought to Jesus all the sick and demon-possessed. The whole town gathered at the door! They didn't come to him until sunset. They had to wait until the Sabbath was over before carrying anything or travelling any distance. When the crowds were desperate to get to this miracle worker, excited, and maybe anxious, they didn't rush to him like they wanted to. They waited. This healer who may be the Messiah - the real thing - came to their little town, and they really needed healing... so they watched the decending sun, unable to persue that which would change their lives forever.

I recognize that, if left unchecked, I can be one impatient person. I can't imagine waiting 15 seconds, 2 minutes, 3 hours, when I suspect everything I need just showed up in my neighborhood! But, it would have been unthinkable - sinful even, for them to have broken the Sabbath. They didn't consider it.

The timing when HE shows up can be inconvenient. And we're left thinking "I've been this way for so long, what's another hour? day? week? year?" I wonder how many didn't go at all because it was not an optimal time to travel.

I, on the other hand, am not a first century Jew. I'm free of the rules and the religious constraint. But, how many times have I waited thru another sunset, feeling powerless, while missing God's provision because I didn't get up and go, or ask, or seek, or knock, or whatever?

I want to be done with that.

My Crew

2006-01-01T12:23:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Stag, and his savvy advice, here's a family photo:

The Kissing List

2005-12-30T16:12:00.000-08:00

Every Friday I play volleyball at the same sports/recreation center. It's a fun place.
One of my favorite things about it is on the door of the second stall of the ladies room.
Yes, I read the contents of the stall... So there. I said it.
Anyway, on the door of the second stall, on the inside, there a big square with KISSING LIST at the top. There's room for a couple dozen names, but only one is listed. Travis, though listed, was crossed out. Apparently, he was not worthy of making the list after all. No other names emerged to take his place. It's a list that goes nowhere.
Why even make a list of none? Hope springs eternal.
I don't know if this little lady inspires me because I see myself tracking all the wrong things too. Or if it's because she apparently has not given up on finding a kissable fella, so I find her optimism cute. Maybe she has completely forgotten about the list, and I'm the only one interested in the contents. Perhaps she's moved on to more worthwhile persuits. But I doubt it.

The Twelve Days of Christmas

2005-12-26T06:00:00.000-08:00

My children and I composed the following song about our holiday this year. I think you'll know the tune.

On the 1st day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, a kitten on a scratching post.

On the 2nd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, two moon shoes, and a kitten on a scratching post.

On the 3rd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, three family parties, two moon shoes and a kitten on a scratching post.

On the 4th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, four sugar cookies, three family parties, two moon shoes and a kitten on a scratching post.

On the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, five shiny rocks, .....

On the 6th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, six snowflakes, five shiny rocks, four sugar cookies....

On the 7th day of Chirstmas, my true love gave to me, seven homemade ornaments, six snowflakes, five shiny rocks, four sugar cookies, three family parties, two moon shoes and a kitten on a scratching post!

On the 8th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, eight greeting cards, seven homemade ornaments ...

On the 9th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, nine pieces of mhyrr, eight greeting cards...

On the 10th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, ten giant hugs, nine pieces of mhyrr, eight greeting cards, seven homemade ornaments, six snowflakes, five shiny rocks, four sugar cookies, three family parties, two moon shoes, and a kitten on a scratching post!!

On the 11th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, eleven macaroni, ten giant hugs, nine...

On the 12th day of Christmas my true love gave to me twelve Heywood Banks songs, eleven macaroni, ten giant hugs, nine pieces of mhyrr, eight greeting cards, seven homemade ornaments, six snowflakes, five shiny rocks, four sugar cookies, three family parties, two moon shoes, and a kitten on a scratching post!!!!!

Thus ends the rant.

Hope you had a great time too.

What a Mess!!!

2005-12-22T03:24:00.000-08:00

My 9 year old daughter can be a slob. To say she gets it from her mother would be true, but not helpful.

Her room has always contained countless boxes and bags of items no one else would value. She likes: leaves of various shapes/textures, interesting rocks, feathers, scraps of fabric, torn paper, pieces of broken toys, anything that reminds her of something fun, or is a lovely color, or feels interesting… An exhaustive list would be impossible. She also likes stuff other 9 year olds like - stuffed toys, craft supplies, photos, music CDs…

Additionally, she is not terribly interested in liner tasks. Chores like putting away her clothes, spelling, or cleaning up after a craft, are tedious for her (and the rest of us). I’ve reminded, and reminded… oh who am I kidding? I’ve turned to nagging.

I’ve tried to help numerous times by going into her room when she was not home and cleaning it out. I have disposed of trash bags of stuff I define as trash. I’ve discreetly returned many rocks to the great outdoors. I’ve labled bins for her clothing, and shelves for her toys. I’ve created a place for everything I think she needs. The times, I’ve gone in (in combat gear) and imposed order, I thought she’d enjoy it! Appreciate it! I thought she’d say, “If I’d known how nice this would be, I would have done this long ago!” This did not happen.

Tuesday, the right motivator presented herself. Selena, another 3rd grader in Morgan’s girl scout troop, wanted to come for a sleep-over. I consented to this plan with the condition being a clean room to entertain in. She thought this was unreasonable, but I'm the mom... Without homework, school, and other tedium in the way, she dove in. She identified and removed 3 trash bags full of trash!!! She sorted through her clothes and bagged ones she can no longer wear. She organized her art supplies. In two days (+/- 10 hours all together) she had it clean and organized. (OK, I helped quite a bit, but she was doing the job.)

Before Selena arrived, Morgan was in her room, with the door closed, enjoying the serenity. She was playing beautiful music and doing some sketching. This time, she got it.

Early this morning, the children were sleeping. It was dark and quiet.
I read, “let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water…”
I thought about creating an environment in which I can find peace and serenity. A sincere heart that draws near to God. A clean conscience. Getting there often takes some effort - like getting up early. But it’s worth it. It provides real rest. I can lay in the floor, listening to beautiful music and do a little sketching...

It Was A Stretch...

2005-12-19T12:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I had the opportunity to teach children at church. I’m not always given this opportunity, which may be because I do stuff like the story I’m about to tell…

When I arrived, the students were creating Christmas cards to deliver to a local nursing home in the afternoon. The plan, if I understand it, was to: visit, sing, pass out the handmade greeting cards, and be generally cheerful. The kids understood why they were making cards and for whom. They genuinely wanted to do a good job. In my view, time they were spending making these cards was worship.

I was assigned to 4th thru 6th graders, as they are a little bit less impressionable than the younger ones. Another teacher (name withheld to protect the innocent) had a lesson for the 1st thru 3rd graders. This teacher and I were reluctant to split the children into study groups, because we didn’t want to break up the card making/crafting. It was worship. We waited, trying to give them adequate time to make enough cards so that every resident at the nursing home would get one. It seemed a worthy endeavor.

The lesson for the older group was about gender differences and respecting others – especially those creepy boys! Or yucky girls! It was a good topic; and the scripture was a gem! A doozy! It was that passage in Colossians that says we should clothe ourselves with compassion - and kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. We should ‘bear with’ one another, and forgive each other! And LOVE, holds all these virtues together. Wow!

The lesson for the younger group involved reading the Luke 2 account of the savior’s birth and singing carols. After making a ton of Christmas cards, we were short on time. The birth account seemed like a good fit, so kept both groups together. We sat them all down and read and talked about the birth of the Christ child. We asked them to think about how He was different than other babies. We discussed what it meant to be a ‘Savior’.

Then we moved on to singing carols. They called out the names of songs they wanted to sing. The first choice, by far, was ‘Jingle Bells.’ It was not what we had in mind, but we’re boring adults. Next, they wanted ‘Rudolph’. We acquiesced, thinking they’d soon run out of secular songs and hit one about Jesus.

As we sang the story of the abused, fictional reindeer, it occurred to me that the characters in the song could use a dose of Colossians 3 – compassion, gentleness, kindness, humility… Those jerks wouldn’t even let him play in all the reindeer games!!!

So I went for it. We read and discussed the passage in light of the Rudolph song. We talked about what it means to ‘bear with’ others when they’re getting on our nerves. Even siblings aren’t exempt!! We acknowledged that we could not be gentle, compassionate, kind, humble, or loving without Jesus’ help. So we settled that the best way to share Christmas with our community is to demonstrate those virtues (for the record, none of them could define ‘virtue’ initially). We would make it our purpose to be just like Rudolph – I mean Jesus…. well, unlike Rudolph’s friends anyway.

OK, it was a stretch…

More About Dogs

2005-12-13T10:48:00.000-08:00

I read interesting post at Attention Span (http://rev-ed.blogspot.com) entitled, "WhatHave I Done?" It says:

I ran across this quote from author Gene Hill today:
"I can't think of anything that brings me close to tears than when my old dog -- completely exhausted after a hard day in the field -- limps away from her nice spot by the fire and limps over to where I'm sitting, puts her head in my lap, a paw over my knee, and closes her eyes and goes back to sleep. I don't know what I've done to deserve that kind of friend."
I feel the same way whenever I really, really look at a cross.

Thanks Rev. I love that.

Speaking of Dogs...

2005-12-12T11:35:00.000-08:00

We had another dog. He was a terrier mix and was grumpy with children. We trained him to be tolerant of our kids. He knew if he growled at or bit either of them, he'd have to account for it with the BIG DOGS (the hubby and myself)! He was pretty compliant by nature; he wanted to please.

One evening a few months ago he attacked a neighbor who was sitting on our porch steps. The offended person was a 9 year old girl who is a welcome guest in our home. This child had been previously instructed that LeRoy (that's the dog) was grumpy with kids and should be 'left alone'. She complied. The attack was completely unprovoked and random. My husband and I discussed it and decided that even though the child was OK, this event was a deal-breaker. LeRoy had to go. We would try to find a home for him where there were no children around. We couldn't keep a dog who might randomly attack kids.

We informed our children and received the expected barrage of begging, complaining, crying, wailing, pleading etc... He's been with us for several years and it wasn't easy for anyone. We calmly informed them that it was a 'adult decision,' and the decision was made.

Luke, our 8 year old, was distraught. He loved LeRoy and was sure that nothing unpleasanat would ever happen again. LeRoy had been punished, and (according to Luke) reformation had occurred. There was absolutely no problem!! You could see the, "What's wrong with you people!!!!" look on his face as he accused us of overreacting. We re-stated that it was an 'adult decision' and that the decision was already made. It was difficult to accept that his opinion, though passionate and reasonable to him, made no difference in the outcome.

Luke's frustration continued to build as he realized that his arguments were going nowhere. Finally, in a burst of frustration, he said, "If you can't handle how LeRoy is, maybe you should leave." Parenting is grand. When feeling frustrated and powerless, your beloved child may be willing to swap you for a terrier mix who randomly attacks children.

It wasn't until I was discussing the parental nature of God's dealing with us that I saw that I'm the powerless child. When I think I know best, or I complain about things beyond my control, I am doing the same thing. I'm choosing a erratic terrier, when I should be choosing the ONE who knows my past, present and future, and loves me despite all my failings. The thing that I think is perfectly safe and fine, may indeed attack without warning and leave wreckage in my life. The 'it's an adult decision' position seems good and right, until I recognize I'm the child - powerless in the hands of ONE who knows best.

My Neighborhood

2005-12-09T11:12:00.000-08:00

II Chronicles 6:18-21
"Can it be that God will actually move into our neighborhood? Why, the cosmos itself isn't large enought to give you breathing room, let alone this Temple I've built. Even so, I'm bold to ask: Pay attention to these my prayers, both intercessory and personal, O GOD. Listen to my prayers, energetic and devout, that I'm setting before you right now. Keep your eyes open to this Temple day and night, this place you promised to dignify with your Name. And listen to the prayers that I pray in this place. And listen to your people Israel when they pray at this place. "
The house next to ours is for sale. Wouldn't it be cool if God himself moved into our neighborhood? Especially right next door!
That's not going to happen. He's too big for that house; He'd never fit.
It seems like the Israelites felt this way after building a temple, then expecting the God of the universe to move in. But God promised to dignify this place with His name. So they expected Him because He said He'd be there. It's not so precocious after all. So He shows up at the temple becuase it's His.

I think it sounds pretentious to expect God to show up where I am all the time. At the grocery store, cleaning the dog puke off the couch, where I work...
It actually is pretentious to think HE would be concerned with the trivialities of my routines! Why would He! Yet He does show up again and again. Because I'm His. I think that's amazing.

Proof

2005-12-06T15:21:00.000-08:00

When Riley came home, he deposited the proof in the back yard, in case anyone is interested.
We didn't save it.

Isn't He a Lover?!???

2005-12-06T10:10:00.000-08:00

We have a golden retriever named Riley. He's adorable, friendly and stubborn. Sometimes when he's laying on the front lawn and I want him to come in because I need to leave, he doesn't come when I call him. I have been known to get very frustrated with carrying him (all 70 lbs of him) up on the porch and into the house, when I'm trying to get gone! I've been known to call him names. Not nice names either!

Saturday night, Riley was sick. He threw up until there was nothing more to throw. Sunday afternoon the blood started coming. Before long, he got to the point that he couldn' t vomit. Bloody, smelly stuff just burbled out. His digestive system was shutting down.

Of course, we were alarmed. We loaded him up and took him to the local 'Emergency Vet Clinic' for treatment. I suspect the technician at the clinic wanted to say, "Eeewww...." when the stuff that smelled like diarhhea and looked bloody flowed out of his mouth, onto their shiny scale. But she didn't say it- bless her. The vet even said to Riley, "Your a beauty, but you stink!" I thought about my van and our house. Not particurlarly beautiful, but most assuredly smelling just that same way. I wondered if I smelled like that. I'm actually not sure even now. People may be avoiding me this very moment. No wonder I turn to a computer with this story.

So the nice doctor takes some xrays and a blood sample. (He was a nice doctor.) We waited. We thought Riley had a bowel obstruction. Riley has been known to eat an occasional sock. He's passed several in the back yard. The vet called this a "dietary indiscretion." I remember thinking we live in very different worlds. I think french fries are a dietary indiscretion.

The xray seemed to be consistent with a sock blocking up the works. The lab work indicated "pancreatitis." The presence of an obstacle in the intestines can cause the pancreatic enzymes to do bad stuff. Poor Riles. He was a mess. He hung his head in shame. He knew he was disgusting.

The doctor said he would like to prep Riley for surgery. He said he'd work up the paperwork and we said OK. Then came the document. The proposal for treatment required a signature that we would be responsible for payment for the services rendered. The surgery, without follow-up care would cost some amount up to $2400. I was not prepared for that. It staggered me. We said, "We can't do that!!" "We have to!" "We can't!" The kids cried. I cried.

We asked the nice doctor if there was anything we could do to increase Riley's chances of surviving the night so we could take him to a regular, non-emergency vet on Monday morning.
After much deliberation, we decided to load him up on fluids, take him home, and pray.

Debt is bondage. When you owe, there's never a clear answer to, "Do we have money for this?" My husband and I have been discussing this very thing for several days prior to this financial disaster. I've been working a lot. Can you work extra and still trust God as provider? I think so. We've been praying for God to move in our finances.

So we took a gamble with Riley's life, throwing ourselves (but moreso our dog) in the hands of the living God. We said He'll be God whether Riley makes it or not.

Upon arriving home, I called my friend Lynn. I knew she would see this as a satanic attack on our family - on our finances. She'd call for healing in Jesus' name. She did. She rebuked the sock in Jesus' name! You havn't lived until you prayed in faith, believing as you rebuke a sock! We layed hands on pitiful Riley and prayed for healing. We asked for a divine puking. And we believed.

Monday morning: Riley survived the night. He puked - but no sock.
Upon arrival at the vet's office, new xrays were taken and compared to the ones from the night before. Surprisingly, there was a change. The doctor wasn't sure there was an obstruction after all. "The pancreatitis is bad enough to illicit those symptoms," he told me. So, we decided to hold off on surgery. We hospitalized him on IV meds and fluids. Nothing by mouth. And we waited. Then we waited some more.

"He's acting better," the vet told me on the phone Tuesday morning, "I think we should try him with some food." "Wow! Sounds good," I replied. So he ate, and he kept it down. The vet's office called me to set up a 'going home' appointment. No surgery required. Just fluids and Jesus.
It was frightening to pass on the surgery that seemed so reasonable. It appeared to be just what Riley needed. Instead, what Riley needed was for us to be ready to pray. (Otherwise, he'd have a big incision right now.)

My friend Lynn (the one who rebuked the sock) wasn't surprised to hear there wasn't an obstruction after all. "Isn't He a lover?!?" she asked.

Was there ever a sock? You decide. My husband isn't sure. He just hasn't been in a sock rebuking situation before. There's no proof either way.

But, isn't He a lover?!?

Tagged

2005-12-04T19:25:00.000-08:00

I suppose I have a lot to say as I've been tagged -

Seven things that attract me to my husband:

he always knows the weather forcast
he picks up dog poop from the yard when we're expecting guests
he saves newspaper articles for me if he thinks they're of interest to me
he doesn't care if I'm fixed up (me always thinks I'm gorgeous)
he does laundry
he prays over each member of the family before leaving the house every morning
he's willing to cry

Seven things I want to do before I die:

be so conformed to the image of Jesus that it's stunning
organize my closets
paint a masterpiece
visit South America
understand my kids
get in shape
be a terrific grandmother

Seven things I cannot do:

eat onions
swim well
drink alcohol in moderation
play a guitar
math
whistle

Seven things I say most often:

Have you brushed your teeth?
The role of occupational therapy...
I love you.
Your my best girl / boy. (I have one of each.)
I answered that already.
Is your homework done?

Seven books I love:

Wilfred Gordan McDonald Partridge
Disappointment with God (Philip Yancy)
The Best Christmas Pagent Ever
School of Obedience (Arthur Murray)
Narnia Chronicles (I've only read the first four)
A Light in the Window
To Kill a Mockingbird

Seven movies I would watch again and again:

O Brother Where Art Thou
To Kill a Mockingbird
A Christmas Story
Waiting For Guffman
The Princess Bride
Monster's Inc.

I will refrain from tagging anyone else as my first act as a blogger. I think I should wait a week or two...