at one of my jobs i have made it a habit to make sure i wish everyone a "Happy ________ " - filling in the blank with whatever day of the week it happens to be. so Happy Monday! Happy Tuesday! Happy Wednesday!. . . you get the point.
there are a couple of people, i think the same ones who despise the "good morning" ritual as being presumptuous (it IS morning. . . really to early to tell whether it is good or not), who have mentioned that "Happy Monday!" is a lie straight from the pit of Hell. there is nothing happy about having to be back at work. "Happy Friday!" is the exclamation point at the end of long, dry sentence. "Happy Monday!" is nothing more than a painful reminder of an entire workweek to come.
so i have borrowed from Christmas Eve's wonderment to help ease us into the next day. i now wait until after 1:00pm on the offending Monday so that i may wish a heart-felt "Happy Tuesday's Eve!" (this is also quite useful in tiresome weeks where Friday seems to be playing hide and seek. . . there is nothing like an entire Thursday afternoon of "Happy Friday's Eve!" to encourage all that Friday is inevitably on its way and SOON!"
i say all that to say this. . .
it is Christmas Eve today. for me, a small "catch your breath" moment before the big showy arrival of a people-packed, gift-giving, feast-laden Christmas day. i love attending the quieter, reflective 11:00pm church service. a group of people come together to welcome the Christ child with new candles and old songs and really old scripture - all speaking to our hearts about God's love come down at Christmas - technically, tomorrow.
so i wish you a very merry, Happy Christmas Eve!
p.s. tomorrow is FRIDAY AND CHRISTMAS!!!
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
The Invisible Woman
at this time of year - especially - just wanted to remind us all who we work for. . .
Monday, December 21, 2009
Christmas in January
maybe my circle of influence has an inordinate amount of scrooges as members or maybe i just caught everyone on a bad day- scratch that - a bad WEEK or maybe this is a small indicator that Christmas this year is not a Christmassy as years past. that there are a lot more people having to work at getting into the yuletide spirit than those who are just basking in it. . .
i think this downward trend in the economics of merriment can be attributed to an over-saturation of the market place strategy to bring Americans the opportunity to buy all the trappings of Christmas earlier in the calendar year.
in other words. . .
STOP HARKING CHRISTMAS WARES IN OCTOBER - right after the going-back-to-school sales!
PUT CHRISTMAS BACK WHERE IT BELONGS - right after the non-commericalized "Turkey Day" and right before the much needed "Bring on the new year."
we could all deal with the roughly 4 weeks from Thanksgiving to Christmas. it was crunch time - we all knew it and were committed to cramming as many parties, brunches, services, and get-togethers as we could squeeze around those LIMITED number of shopping days.
with a limited number of shopping days - there were real-time expectations of what one could and could not accomplish (please exclude that suzy snowflake in your circle of friends who now raises her own ginger in her year-round indoor aero-garden for her exquisitely designed and crafted gingerbread houses and men, and women, and children, and all the inhabitants of the North Pole, and all the creatures and animals in the last Narnia movie whether they could talk or not. she is an anomaly and cannot be included in our calculations to determine average level of festive expectation).
LIMITED number of shopping days = LIMITED amount of expectations.
i only have X amount of money to spend on Christmas. especially in this economy, i have to practice economy. giving me more days to spend my money and thus the opportunity to blow the whole shabang early in the game only leads to me having more time to brood over what i have already spent and get miserly with what i have left. . . and leading to unrealistic expectations that the retailers should lower their prices yet again and again and again as the holiday d-day approaches.
i admit, i am stressed out. i shouldn't be. over the last few years, we have down-scaled our merry-making, cookie baking, gift giving, card sending Christmas - trying to remind ourselves what is important - focusing on the real reason of the season. but this year i have found myself getting caught up in the negativity instead of the nativity. and that's nobody's fault but mine. so i am not going to read, watch or listen to the daily news (the federal deficit doesn't need my attention or approval to continue to "deficit"). instead i am going to surround myself with friends and family who don't mind my protective killer dust bunnies under the couch or the lack of this year's hottest decorations. . .
on the other hand. . . this week a friend told me that with all the stress of planning an awesome celebration and everyone's hectic schedules and tight budgets, her work is having The Holiday Party in January so everyone can enjoy it. . .
i think this downward trend in the economics of merriment can be attributed to an over-saturation of the market place strategy to bring Americans the opportunity to buy all the trappings of Christmas earlier in the calendar year.
in other words. . .
STOP HARKING CHRISTMAS WARES IN OCTOBER - right after the going-back-to-school sales!
PUT CHRISTMAS BACK WHERE IT BELONGS - right after the non-commericalized "Turkey Day" and right before the much needed "Bring on the new year."
we could all deal with the roughly 4 weeks from Thanksgiving to Christmas. it was crunch time - we all knew it and were committed to cramming as many parties, brunches, services, and get-togethers as we could squeeze around those LIMITED number of shopping days.
with a limited number of shopping days - there were real-time expectations of what one could and could not accomplish (please exclude that suzy snowflake in your circle of friends who now raises her own ginger in her year-round indoor aero-garden for her exquisitely designed and crafted gingerbread houses and men, and women, and children, and all the inhabitants of the North Pole, and all the creatures and animals in the last Narnia movie whether they could talk or not. she is an anomaly and cannot be included in our calculations to determine average level of festive expectation).
LIMITED number of shopping days = LIMITED amount of expectations.
i only have X amount of money to spend on Christmas. especially in this economy, i have to practice economy. giving me more days to spend my money and thus the opportunity to blow the whole shabang early in the game only leads to me having more time to brood over what i have already spent and get miserly with what i have left. . . and leading to unrealistic expectations that the retailers should lower their prices yet again and again and again as the holiday d-day approaches.
i admit, i am stressed out. i shouldn't be. over the last few years, we have down-scaled our merry-making, cookie baking, gift giving, card sending Christmas - trying to remind ourselves what is important - focusing on the real reason of the season. but this year i have found myself getting caught up in the negativity instead of the nativity. and that's nobody's fault but mine. so i am not going to read, watch or listen to the daily news (the federal deficit doesn't need my attention or approval to continue to "deficit"). instead i am going to surround myself with friends and family who don't mind my protective killer dust bunnies under the couch or the lack of this year's hottest decorations. . .
on the other hand. . . this week a friend told me that with all the stress of planning an awesome celebration and everyone's hectic schedules and tight budgets, her work is having The Holiday Party in January so everyone can enjoy it. . .
Friday, December 18, 2009
Silent Monks Singing Halleluia
wow! silient monks and the Halleluia Chorus. . . just goes to prove if you wanna do something bad enough - you will figure out a way. . .
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Suzy Snowflake
ok, since someone brought Suzy Snowflake up, i'd thought i'd share. . . can't believe how very simple this was and how much it kept our attention. . .
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Hardrock, Coco and Joe: The Three Little Dwarfs
as a kid growing up in the Chicago suburbs this was always a favorite. . . not like today with instant viewing - but back when you had to commit some serious time to watching and waiting and hoping and crossing your fingers that this would be the day it would be shown on Garfield Goose. . . if you were lucky, your friends might even be over and get to watch it with you. . .
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
football
i didn't understand the game of football AT ALL until my freshman year in college.
it was a long ways from my home in the Arizona desert to the frozen tundra - home of the Chicago Bears. but it was not long before i realized that these Chicago fans would risk life, love, limb, and frostbite to see a game at Soldier Field and breathe in the same air as DA BEARS. (ok, this was in the late 70's BEFORE our superbowl win in the 80's. we had payton - thee walter payton - but we were having quarterback issues back then too.)
i sat through a couple of Bears games in a crowded room being the only girl there and desperately trying to figure out what the heck a "down" was and why there were four of them. the game made no sense to me. and although i loved spending time with dave, i had entered the sacred shrine of male sports and it was fast becoming obvious when i didn't have the correct reaction to the play on TV that i was a football fan fake and worse - a Bears fan imposter.
i finally broke down and admitted to dave my failings as a girl friend and a human being - i did not understand the game of football.
he was stunned. i had attended numerous football games during high school. surely i picked up some of the rules. NOPE.
i was a member of the elite, disciplined, enthusiastic high school marching band. yes, we provided a stunning half time show but we also played appropriate snippets of songs during appropriate pauses in the game.
come on, who can forget the appropriately applied alka seltzer's "plop, plop, fizz, fizz - oh what a relief it is. . . " . or KC and the Sunshine Band's "oh, that's the way, uh-huh uh-huh, i like it, uh-huh, uh-huh."
we roused the fans and the players with our enthusiasm and our nicely placed references to pop culture. i didn't have time to understand the finer points of football - i was helping to create the ambiance of the much sought after WIN.
after much hair pulling, teeth gnashing, and name calling - dave finally instilled the football novice's rules of the game. i could now watch football and not make a fool of myself or him. surprisingly, i found out that i like the game.
this did get me thinking that every day people participate in things they maybe don't fully understand. and maybe they don't want to admit they don't understand. like church. . .
i spent a lot years on Sunday mornings, sitting on the piano bench (and in this case "sitting on the bench" actually means you ARE playing in the "game") actively participating but not quite understanding the whole God sent his Son as a baby. . . wrapped in human flesh. . . becoming one of us. . .
i didn't truly understand until someone looked past my years of participating and asked me if i knew that "God so loved karen, that he gave his one and only son, so that if karen believed. . . "
so, being at the stadium and cheering your guts out doesn't prove that you really understand football any more than going to church and sitting through the service proves you know God loves you.
it was a long ways from my home in the Arizona desert to the frozen tundra - home of the Chicago Bears. but it was not long before i realized that these Chicago fans would risk life, love, limb, and frostbite to see a game at Soldier Field and breathe in the same air as DA BEARS. (ok, this was in the late 70's BEFORE our superbowl win in the 80's. we had payton - thee walter payton - but we were having quarterback issues back then too.)
i sat through a couple of Bears games in a crowded room being the only girl there and desperately trying to figure out what the heck a "down" was and why there were four of them. the game made no sense to me. and although i loved spending time with dave, i had entered the sacred shrine of male sports and it was fast becoming obvious when i didn't have the correct reaction to the play on TV that i was a football fan fake and worse - a Bears fan imposter.
i finally broke down and admitted to dave my failings as a girl friend and a human being - i did not understand the game of football.
he was stunned. i had attended numerous football games during high school. surely i picked up some of the rules. NOPE.
i was a member of the elite, disciplined, enthusiastic high school marching band. yes, we provided a stunning half time show but we also played appropriate snippets of songs during appropriate pauses in the game.
come on, who can forget the appropriately applied alka seltzer's "plop, plop, fizz, fizz - oh what a relief it is. . . " . or KC and the Sunshine Band's "oh, that's the way, uh-huh uh-huh, i like it, uh-huh, uh-huh."
we roused the fans and the players with our enthusiasm and our nicely placed references to pop culture. i didn't have time to understand the finer points of football - i was helping to create the ambiance of the much sought after WIN.
after much hair pulling, teeth gnashing, and name calling - dave finally instilled the football novice's rules of the game. i could now watch football and not make a fool of myself or him. surprisingly, i found out that i like the game.
this did get me thinking that every day people participate in things they maybe don't fully understand. and maybe they don't want to admit they don't understand. like church. . .
i spent a lot years on Sunday mornings, sitting on the piano bench (and in this case "sitting on the bench" actually means you ARE playing in the "game") actively participating but not quite understanding the whole God sent his Son as a baby. . . wrapped in human flesh. . . becoming one of us. . .
i didn't truly understand until someone looked past my years of participating and asked me if i knew that "God so loved karen, that he gave his one and only son, so that if karen believed. . . "
so, being at the stadium and cheering your guts out doesn't prove that you really understand football any more than going to church and sitting through the service proves you know God loves you.
Monday, December 14, 2009
name tag baggage
i hate name tags. . . well not the idea of name tags or name tags themselves. . . i hate the placement of name tags - always have.
i remember one of the first times i had to wear one as a kid. i was a visitor at a Sunday School and they gave me a very cool looking name tag and told me to put it right where i would place my hand when saying the Pledge of Allegiance - over my heart.
i thought that was weird.
i thought the palm of my left hand would be a much better place. i could just wave "hi" and flash my name at the same time. if i wanted to answer the sure-to-be-coming bible story questions - the teacher would see my name tag on my raised hand and call me by name - i would just have to remember to raise my left hand instead of my usual right.
i took too long thinking about where to place the name tag so the teacher did it for me.
it didn't take too long for my name tag to find its way to my left hand. as soon as that was noticed, the teacher carefully put it back where it belonged.
soon the name tag was on my right hand and even sooner - it was back - plastered to my chest.
i looked at the teacher. she looked at me. i nodded in acknowledgment that this was over. she smiled acknowledging that i was now acknowledging the correct placement of said name tag.
and then my name tag mysteriously disappeared. "we" looked for it on the floor, under the table, in my bible (i would never have desecrated my bible by sticking a name tag to one of its pages), and under my chair. but it was gone.
but it really wasn't a problem.
the teacher had my name memorized the second time she had to help my name tag find it's way back to it's spot. the other girls in my class remembered my name too.
the teacher made a point of meeting my parents. she told them about the name tag.
on the way home they asked me about it and i tried very hard not to lie while peeling it off the bottom of my left shoe.
as a kid i thought the over-heart-placement was dumb. as an adult i think it is even dumber.
i like the idea of small name tags worn on our foreheads. i only get to know what your name is should i choose to talk to you or you choose to talk to me. i can look at your forehead and then your eyes and engage in meaningful conversation.
and isn't that the point. . .
i remember one of the first times i had to wear one as a kid. i was a visitor at a Sunday School and they gave me a very cool looking name tag and told me to put it right where i would place my hand when saying the Pledge of Allegiance - over my heart.
i thought that was weird.
i thought the palm of my left hand would be a much better place. i could just wave "hi" and flash my name at the same time. if i wanted to answer the sure-to-be-coming bible story questions - the teacher would see my name tag on my raised hand and call me by name - i would just have to remember to raise my left hand instead of my usual right.
i took too long thinking about where to place the name tag so the teacher did it for me.
it didn't take too long for my name tag to find its way to my left hand. as soon as that was noticed, the teacher carefully put it back where it belonged.
soon the name tag was on my right hand and even sooner - it was back - plastered to my chest.
i looked at the teacher. she looked at me. i nodded in acknowledgment that this was over. she smiled acknowledging that i was now acknowledging the correct placement of said name tag.
and then my name tag mysteriously disappeared. "we" looked for it on the floor, under the table, in my bible (i would never have desecrated my bible by sticking a name tag to one of its pages), and under my chair. but it was gone.
but it really wasn't a problem.
the teacher had my name memorized the second time she had to help my name tag find it's way back to it's spot. the other girls in my class remembered my name too.
the teacher made a point of meeting my parents. she told them about the name tag.
on the way home they asked me about it and i tried very hard not to lie while peeling it off the bottom of my left shoe.
as a kid i thought the over-heart-placement was dumb. as an adult i think it is even dumber.
i like the idea of small name tags worn on our foreheads. i only get to know what your name is should i choose to talk to you or you choose to talk to me. i can look at your forehead and then your eyes and engage in meaningful conversation.
and isn't that the point. . .
Monday, November 9, 2009
walking the valleys
i have friends going through difficult, hard, yucky times. . . and not because of poor decision making. . . it's just life. . . no one's fault, no one's goof. . . just life.
and i have found myself saying over and over to them and myself that "there are no good words to make this better." and that is the truth.
being a Christ follower doesn't exempt one from problems - no matter what the televangelists spout.
but being a Christ follower does mean walking with each other through those valleys.
really walking.
the inconvenient kind of walking. . . making time, meals, and way for someone in the very thick of it.
being available. being vulnerable. being flexible.
really it's like being God with skin on for someone.
it is easier to walk other's valleys after someone has walked with us through one of our own. . .
i am grateful today for those friends and family who chose to do the hard thing, the difficult thing and walk with me through my valleys.
are you walking through a valley today?
are you alone?
and i have found myself saying over and over to them and myself that "there are no good words to make this better." and that is the truth.
being a Christ follower doesn't exempt one from problems - no matter what the televangelists spout.
but being a Christ follower does mean walking with each other through those valleys.
really walking.
the inconvenient kind of walking. . . making time, meals, and way for someone in the very thick of it.
being available. being vulnerable. being flexible.
really it's like being God with skin on for someone.
it is easier to walk other's valleys after someone has walked with us through one of our own. . .
i am grateful today for those friends and family who chose to do the hard thing, the difficult thing and walk with me through my valleys.
are you walking through a valley today?
are you alone?
Monday, November 2, 2009
making time to make change
i thought that being empty nesters who are well aware of the fact that there is only us empty nesters either messing up or picking up, the house should stay relatively clean. i was wrong.
while it has stayed picked up in some areas and clean in others, it has not stayed picked up AND clean anywhere. i do not function well in messiness and where it is obvious that what is lacking is lacking on my watch. so i made time over the weekend to set up my flipper system.
(Side Road: a while back i wrote about different methods to help with living life in a comfortable home - read "how to keep your house clean while raising children, pets, husbands, and plants without losing what's left of your mind" - please look up the old post OR better yet. . . check out this link THE FLIPPER SYSTEM).
i had purchased The Flipper a while back knowing that i needed to make time to set it up. but i have been more than busy and perhaps just a wee bit tired lately from all that extraneous busy-ness. (more about that later). looking back, i realize that i had considered The Flipper being a sort of lucky rabbit's foot (and yes, i see the irony in a rabbit's foot being anything but lucky for its original owner). i somehow believed that the newly purchased Flipper System nicely installed in a place of honor on my home office desk would somehow ward off wretched dirt gremlins and the evil dust bunnies (that dust bunnies do not "protect" one's stuff was a myth that died hard in this home).
but waking up to the fact that those housework elves advertised to clean while you sleep have never made an appearance in the last 28 years and therefore, cannot be counted out to show up now - was both freeing and motivating (read "a gentle kick in the keester") - so i set aside some time and set up The Flipper.
and that's what it came down to. . . making time to make change.
i set it up on Saturday and put it into play on Sunday. it is now Monday, and things are manageable and measurable. and most importantly, my brain has stopped hurting!!!
i'll let you know how it goes. . . or maybe i'll let dave let you know how it goes. . .
while it has stayed picked up in some areas and clean in others, it has not stayed picked up AND clean anywhere. i do not function well in messiness and where it is obvious that what is lacking is lacking on my watch. so i made time over the weekend to set up my flipper system.
(Side Road: a while back i wrote about different methods to help with living life in a comfortable home - read "how to keep your house clean while raising children, pets, husbands, and plants without losing what's left of your mind" - please look up the old post OR better yet. . . check out this link THE FLIPPER SYSTEM).
i had purchased The Flipper a while back knowing that i needed to make time to set it up. but i have been more than busy and perhaps just a wee bit tired lately from all that extraneous busy-ness. (more about that later). looking back, i realize that i had considered The Flipper being a sort of lucky rabbit's foot (and yes, i see the irony in a rabbit's foot being anything but lucky for its original owner). i somehow believed that the newly purchased Flipper System nicely installed in a place of honor on my home office desk would somehow ward off wretched dirt gremlins and the evil dust bunnies (that dust bunnies do not "protect" one's stuff was a myth that died hard in this home).
but waking up to the fact that those housework elves advertised to clean while you sleep have never made an appearance in the last 28 years and therefore, cannot be counted out to show up now - was both freeing and motivating (read "a gentle kick in the keester") - so i set aside some time and set up The Flipper.
and that's what it came down to. . . making time to make change.
i set it up on Saturday and put it into play on Sunday. it is now Monday, and things are manageable and measurable. and most importantly, my brain has stopped hurting!!!
i'll let you know how it goes. . . or maybe i'll let dave let you know how it goes. . .
Monday, October 26, 2009
God Playing Tennis Commercial
well, i hadn't thought about it. . . but God must have an awesome tennis game. . .
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
the love of numbers can get a person in trouble
i love numbers. always have, always will. and it has gotten me into trouble on more than one occasion.
i had fresh green beans from Indiana when my folks were here this summer. and it got me thinking about how sometimes a person should keep her ever lovin' mouth shut when it comes to number crunching and "canning."
a group of women at our first church asked me to come and spend an afternoon "canning beans" with them. i was excited but massively unprepared for what i walking into.
"canning beans" meant
picking the beans - from the actual bean plant nestled in the dirt of the garden (and there are bugs in that there garden - more than you would suspect). (side road - and may i just point out that my dad's vegetable garden was big - this farm wife's vegetable garden was the size of Rhode Island.)
washing the beans we just picked off that bean plant nestled in the dirt of that bug infested garden (and yes, i am aware that some of those bugs are really a valuable part of the ecosystem that is a garden).
snapping the beans - and yes, there IS a CORRECT way to SNAP those beans we just picked off that bean plant nestled in the dirt. . . and size does matter here in the world of snapping beans. . . i was surprised to know there was a canning standard as well as personal preference.
filling the "canning jars" with the beans that we had just picked off those bean plants. . . and don't kid yourself here, there are some steps involved in preparing the "canning jars" that i was not privy to, but was told they are important to the process.
adding boiling water to the "canning jars" filled with green beans from the bean plant nestled in the garden. . .
cooking those beans in the "canning jars" placed in a scary, hissing pressure cooker pot. ( i think that the hissing sound could end up being a comforting sound, if exposed to it enough times and if you could associate the hiss with the great taste of home canned green beans.)
you can see where i'm going with this, right? my mind wandered a bit and i stated thinking about. . .
x = number of women involved
y = number of hours spent in process
x times y times $ (minimum wage) divided by the number of quarts "put up" - canning speak for "canned" - gives us "z", cost per quart.
cost per quart against sale price of store bought, generic, canned green beans.
sale price of store bought, generic, canned green beans are cheaper (obviously, i did not take quality or taste into consideration).
and i, of course, pointed this out - pretty much out loud to the group of lovely women - completely missing the point of spending an afternoon canning green beans with friends.
spending time with friends - priceless.
spending time with friends in the great outdoors, picking vine-ripened vegetables out of one of the participants very own "Rhode Island big" vegetable garden - priceless.
spending time with friends in the great indoors, snapping and canning those vegetables while sharing bits of each others lives - priceless.
spending time with friends knowing that during the winter each of you will be sharing a bit of that summer's afternoon with her family over a Sunday dinner of pot roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, and home baked dessert to follow - priceless.
i guess what i'm trying to say is. . . if you are ever invited to an afternoon of canning. . . the dirt, the bugs, the beans, the hissing pot, the friendship, the comraderie, and the little bit summer you just captured in that canning jar. . .
don't "do the math" - just enjoy the moment.
and if you do "do the math". . . for heaven's sake, keep it to yourself!
i had fresh green beans from Indiana when my folks were here this summer. and it got me thinking about how sometimes a person should keep her ever lovin' mouth shut when it comes to number crunching and "canning."
a group of women at our first church asked me to come and spend an afternoon "canning beans" with them. i was excited but massively unprepared for what i walking into.
"canning beans" meant
picking the beans - from the actual bean plant nestled in the dirt of the garden (and there are bugs in that there garden - more than you would suspect). (side road - and may i just point out that my dad's vegetable garden was big - this farm wife's vegetable garden was the size of Rhode Island.)
washing the beans we just picked off that bean plant nestled in the dirt of that bug infested garden (and yes, i am aware that some of those bugs are really a valuable part of the ecosystem that is a garden).
snapping the beans - and yes, there IS a CORRECT way to SNAP those beans we just picked off that bean plant nestled in the dirt. . . and size does matter here in the world of snapping beans. . . i was surprised to know there was a canning standard as well as personal preference.
filling the "canning jars" with the beans that we had just picked off those bean plants. . . and don't kid yourself here, there are some steps involved in preparing the "canning jars" that i was not privy to, but was told they are important to the process.
adding boiling water to the "canning jars" filled with green beans from the bean plant nestled in the garden. . .
cooking those beans in the "canning jars" placed in a scary, hissing pressure cooker pot. ( i think that the hissing sound could end up being a comforting sound, if exposed to it enough times and if you could associate the hiss with the great taste of home canned green beans.)
you can see where i'm going with this, right? my mind wandered a bit and i stated thinking about. . .
x = number of women involved
y = number of hours spent in process
x times y times $ (minimum wage) divided by the number of quarts "put up" - canning speak for "canned" - gives us "z", cost per quart.
cost per quart against sale price of store bought, generic, canned green beans.
sale price of store bought, generic, canned green beans are cheaper (obviously, i did not take quality or taste into consideration).
and i, of course, pointed this out - pretty much out loud to the group of lovely women - completely missing the point of spending an afternoon canning green beans with friends.
spending time with friends - priceless.
spending time with friends in the great outdoors, picking vine-ripened vegetables out of one of the participants very own "Rhode Island big" vegetable garden - priceless.
spending time with friends in the great indoors, snapping and canning those vegetables while sharing bits of each others lives - priceless.
spending time with friends knowing that during the winter each of you will be sharing a bit of that summer's afternoon with her family over a Sunday dinner of pot roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, and home baked dessert to follow - priceless.
i guess what i'm trying to say is. . . if you are ever invited to an afternoon of canning. . . the dirt, the bugs, the beans, the hissing pot, the friendship, the comraderie, and the little bit summer you just captured in that canning jar. . .
don't "do the math" - just enjoy the moment.
and if you do "do the math". . . for heaven's sake, keep it to yourself!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
i'm committed. . .
so i mentioned that i have been making an effort to stop being such a couch potato and get my body moving again. but did i mention that i don't have much to work with???
this is an almost-50-year-old version of a body that has been somewhat shabbily taken care of except for the 36 months or 3 years - whichever sounds worse - that were committed to 4 non-easy-breezy pregnancies followed by hours and hours and hours of labor getting those children here!!
yeah, no. . . a combined 7 hours of labor between 4 births. . . i exaggerated a tad. . .
but i do not exaggerate the fact that i have used and abused and basically ignored my standard issued human suit - only checking in with it on the rare occasions it acted up. i hate doctors and their offices and their hospitals so the ignoring part was and is easy.
two years ago i noticed that i started to make those noises in the mornings that my parents made. . . you know, the moaning and groaning that comes outta nowhere as you hoist yourself up and out of your very comfy bed. . . yeah, those. bad sign. really bad sign if you are in "middle aged" denial. it has only gone downhill from there. i stood on the sidelines, watching in mortifyingly, bored fascination as my young self morphed into my not-so-young self and then again into my never-going-to-be-young-again self.
so today, i take full responsibility for the condition - or is that non-condition that i have found myself in. BUT this is the first time in my married and mommied life i feel like i can make the time to take the time to invest in my health. sad, i know.
young mothers, do not do as i and so many women who have gone before you have done. . . living our harried parental lives by the mommy martyr creed - "i have given my life for my children, sacrificing everything including my size 2 jeans, to provide them with a good and safe and happy childhood. . . and delicious, nutritious meals and snacks. . . and a moderately priced but miraculously "in" wardrobe influenced by whatever sports or music idol they are aspiring to be. . . and a car and driver available at the whim of their schedules. . . oh, yeah, and an almost clean but comfortable home."
forsaking our own health club memberships in the quest to be the perfect mommies, we laid ourselves on the sacred altar of martyrdom and waited around to see if anyone noticed.
ok, no one noticed and now i find myself carrying around the pound-for-pound equivalent of a small kindergartner around my waist and hips.
so i am committed to sweating - and yes, i said the "S" word- 5 nights a week. and no, it is not to get back in shape. . . i have a "shape" and while i am not particularly fond of it, i am pretty convinced it is my density. :)
i am committed to my walking/jogging/staggering routine because
a. it feels soooooooooo good when the time is up and i get back in my car and drive home.
b. nothing, and i mean nothing reminds me of the mind-numbing, body exhaustion of being "mommy" to a brood of delightfully energetic pre-schoolers like dragging myself around a two mile loop of asphalt TWICE in this almost 50 year old body at the end of long, hard day.
this is an almost-50-year-old version of a body that has been somewhat shabbily taken care of except for the 36 months or 3 years - whichever sounds worse - that were committed to 4 non-easy-breezy pregnancies followed by hours and hours and hours of labor getting those children here!!
yeah, no. . . a combined 7 hours of labor between 4 births. . . i exaggerated a tad. . .
but i do not exaggerate the fact that i have used and abused and basically ignored my standard issued human suit - only checking in with it on the rare occasions it acted up. i hate doctors and their offices and their hospitals so the ignoring part was and is easy.
two years ago i noticed that i started to make those noises in the mornings that my parents made. . . you know, the moaning and groaning that comes outta nowhere as you hoist yourself up and out of your very comfy bed. . . yeah, those. bad sign. really bad sign if you are in "middle aged" denial. it has only gone downhill from there. i stood on the sidelines, watching in mortifyingly, bored fascination as my young self morphed into my not-so-young self and then again into my never-going-to-be-young-again self.
so today, i take full responsibility for the condition - or is that non-condition that i have found myself in. BUT this is the first time in my married and mommied life i feel like i can make the time to take the time to invest in my health. sad, i know.
young mothers, do not do as i and so many women who have gone before you have done. . . living our harried parental lives by the mommy martyr creed - "i have given my life for my children, sacrificing everything including my size 2 jeans, to provide them with a good and safe and happy childhood. . . and delicious, nutritious meals and snacks. . . and a moderately priced but miraculously "in" wardrobe influenced by whatever sports or music idol they are aspiring to be. . . and a car and driver available at the whim of their schedules. . . oh, yeah, and an almost clean but comfortable home."
forsaking our own health club memberships in the quest to be the perfect mommies, we laid ourselves on the sacred altar of martyrdom and waited around to see if anyone noticed.
ok, no one noticed and now i find myself carrying around the pound-for-pound equivalent of a small kindergartner around my waist and hips.
so i am committed to sweating - and yes, i said the "S" word- 5 nights a week. and no, it is not to get back in shape. . . i have a "shape" and while i am not particularly fond of it, i am pretty convinced it is my density. :)
i am committed to my walking/jogging/staggering routine because
a. it feels soooooooooo good when the time is up and i get back in my car and drive home.
b. nothing, and i mean nothing reminds me of the mind-numbing, body exhaustion of being "mommy" to a brood of delightfully energetic pre-schoolers like dragging myself around a two mile loop of asphalt TWICE in this almost 50 year old body at the end of long, hard day.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Zoom Episode one - intro
for those who are old enough to remember this kid's show from the 70's. . . who can forget "ubbie dubbie" and musical numbers like "the cat came back?"
AcTs - Armchair Theologians
it has been a bit since i last wrote about the AcTs group. we meet semi-regularly at Panera or one of our homes. we get together after having read the current selection and discuss it from a theological standpoint. sometimes it is easy to see the correlation. . . The Idea of the Holy by Rudolph Otto. and sometimes maybe not-so-much. . . The Green Mile by Stephen King.
we have discussed The Shack by William P. Young and the Book of Judges from the Old Testament. and currently, we are set to tackle The Celtic Way of Evangelism by George G. Hunter and then Robert Briner's book Roaring Lambs.
the point is to get in a habit of talking about God and the relationship between Him and humankind. it's about developing a correct world view. whether or not you acknowledge having a world view - you have one. and it determines the way you look at your life and ultimately, the choices you make that determine your life.
getting together with others and reading through a book and then discussing it is a great way to challenge your own thinking. especially if you can find people smarter than yourself!
so pick a book and go find some smart friends!
we have discussed The Shack by William P. Young and the Book of Judges from the Old Testament. and currently, we are set to tackle The Celtic Way of Evangelism by George G. Hunter and then Robert Briner's book Roaring Lambs.
the point is to get in a habit of talking about God and the relationship between Him and humankind. it's about developing a correct world view. whether or not you acknowledge having a world view - you have one. and it determines the way you look at your life and ultimately, the choices you make that determine your life.
getting together with others and reading through a book and then discussing it is a great way to challenge your own thinking. especially if you can find people smarter than yourself!
so pick a book and go find some smart friends!
Saturday, August 22, 2009
off to the zoo
ok, the last time i visited the zoo was back in the 80's. children were very small. hair was very big. we had a good time.
we moved shortly thereafter to a town that boasted a SIX FLAGS GREAT AMERICA theme park less than 10 minutes away. i am guessing that close proximity to rides, candy, and large puppet headed cartoon characters won out over no rides, candy, and live animals in their natural habitat. we never did go back to that zoo.
i think that was probably an error in my parenting. . . puppet heads or live animals. . . i should have taken them to the zoo.
today one of our kids and her husband are taking dave and i to the zoo. times have changed.
we moved shortly thereafter to a town that boasted a SIX FLAGS GREAT AMERICA theme park less than 10 minutes away. i am guessing that close proximity to rides, candy, and large puppet headed cartoon characters won out over no rides, candy, and live animals in their natural habitat. we never did go back to that zoo.
i think that was probably an error in my parenting. . . puppet heads or live animals. . . i should have taken them to the zoo.
today one of our kids and her husband are taking dave and i to the zoo. times have changed.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
the nest is empty. . .
it was 1996 and i was standing in my kitchen washing dishes, contemplating life and how lovely it was raising four creatively different children. praying for each kid as i washed up his/her plate from lunch. . .
yeah, right. while i was grateful for our brood of delightfully imaginative and very individualistically wired progeny, who came into our lives brilliantly disguised and packaged as small, cute, harmless newborns - i was also aware of the difficulty and exhaustion factors of allowing the number of said progeny to now hold house majority status. dave and i were outnumbered every day and outsmarted most days.
so, there i was, standing in front of the sink, doing the dishes, fuming that the dishwasher was on strike - again, wondering how an intelligent couple like us could have let this shift of power happen, when he walked in and asked "kar, do you realize we could be empty nesters in like 11 years?"
you would think i would laughed, hugged him, and then quickly did the math to figure out the approximate number of days left in this adventure into madness. but i did what for me was surprising. . . i started crying. . . hard and loud. . . because i realized that 11 years wasn't nearly enough time for those wonderful, God-given little blessings to finish raising dave and i. it wasn't nearly enough time for them to discover how much we loved them and were grateful that we were family. it wasn't nearly enough time.
over the years, dave and i have looked back and laughed over that incident. and i admit - i have done the math a couple of times. . . really. but it has actually been 13 years between that day and E-day. and i can tell you honestly, 13 years was both not nearly enough and just about right.
dave and i are better people, parents, and Christ-followers because of our kids and the wonderful job they did in teaching us how to major on the majors and minor on the minors. so i want to publicly thank you children for that.
thanks, kids!
oh and just one more thing. . . could you all return any and all housekeys you might still have in your possession back to your father and i asap?
yeah, right. while i was grateful for our brood of delightfully imaginative and very individualistically wired progeny, who came into our lives brilliantly disguised and packaged as small, cute, harmless newborns - i was also aware of the difficulty and exhaustion factors of allowing the number of said progeny to now hold house majority status. dave and i were outnumbered every day and outsmarted most days.
so, there i was, standing in front of the sink, doing the dishes, fuming that the dishwasher was on strike - again, wondering how an intelligent couple like us could have let this shift of power happen, when he walked in and asked "kar, do you realize we could be empty nesters in like 11 years?"
you would think i would laughed, hugged him, and then quickly did the math to figure out the approximate number of days left in this adventure into madness. but i did what for me was surprising. . . i started crying. . . hard and loud. . . because i realized that 11 years wasn't nearly enough time for those wonderful, God-given little blessings to finish raising dave and i. it wasn't nearly enough time for them to discover how much we loved them and were grateful that we were family. it wasn't nearly enough time.
over the years, dave and i have looked back and laughed over that incident. and i admit - i have done the math a couple of times. . . really. but it has actually been 13 years between that day and E-day. and i can tell you honestly, 13 years was both not nearly enough and just about right.
dave and i are better people, parents, and Christ-followers because of our kids and the wonderful job they did in teaching us how to major on the majors and minor on the minors. so i want to publicly thank you children for that.
thanks, kids!
oh and just one more thing. . . could you all return any and all housekeys you might still have in your possession back to your father and i asap?
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
AWOL for a season
i have been AWOL for a short season this summer because of
- son coming home for a week - surprising Dave and i (i now have more gray hair - i wonder if i can blame it on that????)
- my parents spending the very next week with us - short stay, had to pack a lot in and spend time catching up (i don't get to see them very often, usually i am flying home for dad's unexpected surgery. . . upside. . . he always thinks of his daughters braving the frigid winters of Wyoming and Illinois and "schedules" those unexpected hospital stays for February and March.)
- anticipation of empty-nesting. . . getting all the baby birds' schtuff to them and out of my nest (not as successful at this as hoped. . . realized that above mentioned schtuff didn't belong to the babies. . . was my schtuff all along. . . )
- creative writing project. . . or is that projectS???? (began outlining children's books i want to write for my grandkids - ok, yes. . . Dave and i have no grandkids at the present time. . . and there are none on the way either. . . but i got to thinking about writing a book for each of my kids, starring each of them as the major character. a book highlighting the adventures shared by that particular child and dave and i. and when the time comes, a book they can share with their children as they experience their own joys of parenthood. ok, revenge and parental payback have never entered my mind. . . the creative writing aspect has been very therapeutic for me. . .)
- i started working a second part-time job (do i need to say anything else here?)
- getting youngest daughter ready for out-of-state move and college. (that is really not that true. she got her own self ready. . . i just spent a lot of emotional energy imagining helping her to get ready for the out-of-state move and college.)
- committing 1.5 hours a night to stretching, walking, jogging, staggering, walking, stretching, and cooling down while enjoying nature at the local Lake Arlington path. (who am i kidding? i'm 48 and out of shape. . . end of sentence. coolness factor - total God-thing. . . my next door neighbor who is a lot younger and more in shape agreed to this journey into sweat and insanity. . . and on the other hand. . . i did buy myself an IPOD shuffle and have it brimming with the musical encouragement of QUEEN's "we will rock you and we are the champions". . . of course, "another one bites the dust" is also on there. . . )
so i'm back. . . frazzled, leaner (not so much) and meaner (definitely much more so), and ready to blog on a wide variety of topics. . . meryl streep as Julia Child, empty nesting as a life choice, creative quiet times while soaking in epsom salt baths, and the new Harry Potter movie. . . just to mention a few.
Happy Wednesday!
- son coming home for a week - surprising Dave and i (i now have more gray hair - i wonder if i can blame it on that????)
- my parents spending the very next week with us - short stay, had to pack a lot in and spend time catching up (i don't get to see them very often, usually i am flying home for dad's unexpected surgery. . . upside. . . he always thinks of his daughters braving the frigid winters of Wyoming and Illinois and "schedules" those unexpected hospital stays for February and March.)
- anticipation of empty-nesting. . . getting all the baby birds' schtuff to them and out of my nest (not as successful at this as hoped. . . realized that above mentioned schtuff didn't belong to the babies. . . was my schtuff all along. . . )
- creative writing project. . . or is that projectS???? (began outlining children's books i want to write for my grandkids - ok, yes. . . Dave and i have no grandkids at the present time. . . and there are none on the way either. . . but i got to thinking about writing a book for each of my kids, starring each of them as the major character. a book highlighting the adventures shared by that particular child and dave and i. and when the time comes, a book they can share with their children as they experience their own joys of parenthood. ok, revenge and parental payback have never entered my mind. . . the creative writing aspect has been very therapeutic for me. . .)
- i started working a second part-time job (do i need to say anything else here?)
- getting youngest daughter ready for out-of-state move and college. (that is really not that true. she got her own self ready. . . i just spent a lot of emotional energy imagining helping her to get ready for the out-of-state move and college.)
- committing 1.5 hours a night to stretching, walking, jogging, staggering, walking, stretching, and cooling down while enjoying nature at the local Lake Arlington path. (who am i kidding? i'm 48 and out of shape. . . end of sentence. coolness factor - total God-thing. . . my next door neighbor who is a lot younger and more in shape agreed to this journey into sweat and insanity. . . and on the other hand. . . i did buy myself an IPOD shuffle and have it brimming with the musical encouragement of QUEEN's "we will rock you and we are the champions". . . of course, "another one bites the dust" is also on there. . . )
so i'm back. . . frazzled, leaner (not so much) and meaner (definitely much more so), and ready to blog on a wide variety of topics. . . meryl streep as Julia Child, empty nesting as a life choice, creative quiet times while soaking in epsom salt baths, and the new Harry Potter movie. . . just to mention a few.
Happy Wednesday!
Friday, July 24, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
"Drop the gun. Bring the cannoli." (Peter Clemenza in The Godfather)
last week was one of those weeks. . . i had a lot schtuff on my plate and i was trying to work through my son's sudden move to California. plus i was living in a bit of mess. . . at one point this month i had 4 love seats, a microwave, a hope chest (now there is a post!!!!), and a gazelle in my living room (no, not the real life animal gazelle. . . the Tony Little Gazelle exercise thingamajig) plus a wide assortment of boxes. you'd be surprised how much havoc one kid moving back home and one kid moving away from home can bring.
i had the domino affect going on too - one love seat needed to go to church (youth group room), one love seat needed to go to one married daughter's home, one Gazelle needed to go to other's daughter's home but couldn't go until she and her husband closed on their new place and moved. the microwave was sent to replace grandparent's unit that was at least as old as the kid that moved out - and the boxes. . . well, the boxes and the hope chest were waiting on closet in the newly vacated bedroom which i didn't want to mess with because. . . well, i didn't want to face it.
in the midst of all that, along came a friend with cannoli. and that was the turning point in my week. not that she brought my favorite Italian dessert - but that Sherry cared.
great dessert, phenomenal friend.
i had the domino affect going on too - one love seat needed to go to church (youth group room), one love seat needed to go to one married daughter's home, one Gazelle needed to go to other's daughter's home but couldn't go until she and her husband closed on their new place and moved. the microwave was sent to replace grandparent's unit that was at least as old as the kid that moved out - and the boxes. . . well, the boxes and the hope chest were waiting on closet in the newly vacated bedroom which i didn't want to mess with because. . . well, i didn't want to face it.
in the midst of all that, along came a friend with cannoli. and that was the turning point in my week. not that she brought my favorite Italian dessert - but that Sherry cared.
great dessert, phenomenal friend.
Monday, June 22, 2009
tattoos. . . plural even
i love tattoos. so much of the time they represent a milestone in the host's life. . . a pictorial of a watershed moment. . . a memorial to a person, a pet, a dream.
i was at a beach 9 years ago when i noticed a young woman reading a book while sun bathing. from time to time people walking along would stop and talk to her. she didn't seem to mind the intrusions - she would chat for a few minutes and then dive back into her book. this really intrigued me. was she someone famous? was she selling something? what was the deal with her?
just as my imagination was beginning to kick in i noticed that the book-woman was now conversing with a bunch of people and the conversation was beginning to look like some kind of weird dance. . . an arm was extended, then a another. . . and then another and another. . . what were they doing? then one person turned away from the group and even book-woman stood up and joined the clump. . . then the person turned back to the clump and began speaking for about 3 minutes then a lot of questions seemed to pop up and they were answered with more arm movements and half twirls. . . and then suddenly - i got it!!!
it WAS an interpretive dance troupe involved in performance art on our little local beach. . . how exciting!
nope, it was actually people admiring body art, listening for the inspiration behind the tattoos - sharing bits and pieces, important bits and pieces of lives lived.
it was camaraderie.
it was trusting complete strangers with life stories.
it was fun and deep and as fleeting as the waves on the sand.
we all walked away, not knowing each other's names but having shared a sacred moment where we were not defined by the cars we drove, the addresses of the places we called home, or even the very clothes on our backs. . . we were defined by the shared experiences of loss, and hope, and living in the moment. we were humans connected by ink.
well, they were connected by ink. . . i didn't have a tattoo to show. . . but i knew i had a story to tell.
i got my first tattoo shortly after. a cross that couldn't be taken off and on at whim. a cross that came with a small amount of discomfort - nothing, absolutely nothing compared to what the Savior endured. a cross that reminded me of the cost, the sacrifice, the love of Creator God for humanity.
i know tattoos are not for everyone. . .
but sharing our stories is. . .
what are you doing to share yours?
i was at a beach 9 years ago when i noticed a young woman reading a book while sun bathing. from time to time people walking along would stop and talk to her. she didn't seem to mind the intrusions - she would chat for a few minutes and then dive back into her book. this really intrigued me. was she someone famous? was she selling something? what was the deal with her?
just as my imagination was beginning to kick in i noticed that the book-woman was now conversing with a bunch of people and the conversation was beginning to look like some kind of weird dance. . . an arm was extended, then a another. . . and then another and another. . . what were they doing? then one person turned away from the group and even book-woman stood up and joined the clump. . . then the person turned back to the clump and began speaking for about 3 minutes then a lot of questions seemed to pop up and they were answered with more arm movements and half twirls. . . and then suddenly - i got it!!!
it WAS an interpretive dance troupe involved in performance art on our little local beach. . . how exciting!
nope, it was actually people admiring body art, listening for the inspiration behind the tattoos - sharing bits and pieces, important bits and pieces of lives lived.
it was camaraderie.
it was trusting complete strangers with life stories.
it was fun and deep and as fleeting as the waves on the sand.
we all walked away, not knowing each other's names but having shared a sacred moment where we were not defined by the cars we drove, the addresses of the places we called home, or even the very clothes on our backs. . . we were defined by the shared experiences of loss, and hope, and living in the moment. we were humans connected by ink.
well, they were connected by ink. . . i didn't have a tattoo to show. . . but i knew i had a story to tell.
i got my first tattoo shortly after. a cross that couldn't be taken off and on at whim. a cross that came with a small amount of discomfort - nothing, absolutely nothing compared to what the Savior endured. a cross that reminded me of the cost, the sacrifice, the love of Creator God for humanity.
i know tattoos are not for everyone. . .
but sharing our stories is. . .
what are you doing to share yours?
Thursday, June 18, 2009
"think 3 syllables, not 2"
yesterday i wrote or typed the word "Wednesday" a couple of hundred times. . . i end most of my correspondence - email, voice mail, snail mail - the same way. . . "happy whateverthedayoftheweekitis!!!" so yesterday was a "happy Wednesday!" day - hence the couple of hundred times.
i went to school back in the dark ages when teachers were respected and if you got in trouble at school. . .well. . . let's just say most of us got in twice as much trouble when we got home.
i will never forget my 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. M. she was older than my mom, dressed very fashionably, and ran a very tight ship. but she gave out candy rewards for those who did their best. kids who struggled got rewards for working hard even if they if they had trouble keeping up.
most of all though, i remember that Mrs. M helped me learn how to spell Wednesday.
i kept spelling it "Wendsday" in all our pre-tests. i was panicked about it - yeah, i was a strange little kid - so on the day of the test, i cheated. i looked over at someone else's paper. i got it right but it was marked wrong. i looked up at Mrs. M as she handed back my paper. she looked right back and asked me if i wanted to talk about it. she was so kind to me. she walked with me to our cloakroom and knelt down and looked me straight in the eye and told me she had seen me. she didn't yell, she didn't belittle me, she didn't embarass me. she didn't say anything else. i said i was sorry. she took her pen and wrote this: Wed nes day and said "think 3 sylables, not 2."
i am pretty certain i spell that word correctly 99.99999% of the time because as i am writing, i am saying to myself "3 syllables, not 2."
Mrs. M didn't call my mom. in fact, she never brought it up again. Mrs. M taught me more than spelling that day. . .
to this day, i am very grateful for her and think of her fairly regularly. . . oddly enough, mostly on Wednesdays. . .
thank you Mrs. M!!!!!
i went to school back in the dark ages when teachers were respected and if you got in trouble at school. . .well. . . let's just say most of us got in twice as much trouble when we got home.
i will never forget my 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. M. she was older than my mom, dressed very fashionably, and ran a very tight ship. but she gave out candy rewards for those who did their best. kids who struggled got rewards for working hard even if they if they had trouble keeping up.
most of all though, i remember that Mrs. M helped me learn how to spell Wednesday.
i kept spelling it "Wendsday" in all our pre-tests. i was panicked about it - yeah, i was a strange little kid - so on the day of the test, i cheated. i looked over at someone else's paper. i got it right but it was marked wrong. i looked up at Mrs. M as she handed back my paper. she looked right back and asked me if i wanted to talk about it. she was so kind to me. she walked with me to our cloakroom and knelt down and looked me straight in the eye and told me she had seen me. she didn't yell, she didn't belittle me, she didn't embarass me. she didn't say anything else. i said i was sorry. she took her pen and wrote this: Wed nes day and said "think 3 sylables, not 2."
i am pretty certain i spell that word correctly 99.99999% of the time because as i am writing, i am saying to myself "3 syllables, not 2."
Mrs. M didn't call my mom. in fact, she never brought it up again. Mrs. M taught me more than spelling that day. . .
to this day, i am very grateful for her and think of her fairly regularly. . . oddly enough, mostly on Wednesdays. . .
thank you Mrs. M!!!!!
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
a book recommendation
i facilitate a women's study one night a week. we are currently discussing the book Prayer and Providence: How Does God Work in the World? by Terrance Tiessen. i highly recommend it if you are willing to tackle a little "academic" theology - seriously, i had to dig out a couple of my theology textbooks and do a little remedial reading.
the book is an interesting read because the author presents a case study and then goes on to explore what different models of prayer look like - including semi-diest, process, openess, church dominion, molinist, thomist, barthian, calvinist, and fatalist. each model is presented with a profile of a person who could be setting next to you in the pew this Sunday - what s/he thinks about God's role in the world - and a prayer that would encompass that person's view of God's role and the current need expressed in the case study.
every model interacts with that original case study so you really do get a chance to compare apples to apples - well, at least apple pie to apple pie.
teaching stuff like this usually scares the bejeebers outta me. i know that i will be called to put my money where my mouth is. . . that is one of the reasons i never teach on subjects like achieving patience, humility and the woman of God, my money is God's money, the perfect home, the wifely call to submission. . .
the book is an interesting read because the author presents a case study and then goes on to explore what different models of prayer look like - including semi-diest, process, openess, church dominion, molinist, thomist, barthian, calvinist, and fatalist. each model is presented with a profile of a person who could be setting next to you in the pew this Sunday - what s/he thinks about God's role in the world - and a prayer that would encompass that person's view of God's role and the current need expressed in the case study.
every model interacts with that original case study so you really do get a chance to compare apples to apples - well, at least apple pie to apple pie.
teaching stuff like this usually scares the bejeebers outta me. i know that i will be called to put my money where my mouth is. . . that is one of the reasons i never teach on subjects like achieving patience, humility and the woman of God, my money is God's money, the perfect home, the wifely call to submission. . .
Monday, June 15, 2009
the journey begins with goodby
well my youngest took off for California this morning. . . this is harder than i thought it would be.
memories of the last 20 years with him have overwhelmed me this week. . .
my pregnancy - i was so sick i couldn't keep much down - my doctor prescribed SNICKERS as meal replacement - what a doctor! (that would probably make an interesting SNICKERS commercial)
his birth - so fast the anesthesiologist stepped out to get coffee, Micah showed up 20 minutes later - so i had no spinal. . . just 20 minutes of ridiculously hard labor. . . lucky i was already at the hospital. . .
his toddler/preschool years - spent making friends with all the emergency room staffs during his numerous visits for stitches. . . it was a very good thing that i don't faint at the sight of blood - i would have celebrated his 2nd birthday with him and then come to after he started kindergarten.
his elementary years - continued the above mentioned friendships with er staffs, watching him grow into his smile while developing his verbal skills "negotiating" his place in our family with his three older sisters. Micah didn't play the expected baseball and football route. . . instead he expanded the parental units' world view with soccer and wrestling.
his high school years - well, let's just say i found myself having to look up to him a lot! he passed me by his sophmore year and then his dad by graduation. soccer and wrestling gave way to tennis and driving and working and a move from where he had spent his most of his life to someplace else. . . not easy. . . he also got his first tattoo! seriously, one of my proudest moments.
post high school - living at home but working and planning for a day like today - when the pull of adventure and countless opportunities can no longer be ignored. . . yep, when a day like today finally arrives and the real journey begins.
i love you, spikeboy. . . always have, always will!
memories of the last 20 years with him have overwhelmed me this week. . .
my pregnancy - i was so sick i couldn't keep much down - my doctor prescribed SNICKERS as meal replacement - what a doctor! (that would probably make an interesting SNICKERS commercial)
his birth - so fast the anesthesiologist stepped out to get coffee, Micah showed up 20 minutes later - so i had no spinal. . . just 20 minutes of ridiculously hard labor. . . lucky i was already at the hospital. . .
his toddler/preschool years - spent making friends with all the emergency room staffs during his numerous visits for stitches. . . it was a very good thing that i don't faint at the sight of blood - i would have celebrated his 2nd birthday with him and then come to after he started kindergarten.
his elementary years - continued the above mentioned friendships with er staffs, watching him grow into his smile while developing his verbal skills "negotiating" his place in our family with his three older sisters. Micah didn't play the expected baseball and football route. . . instead he expanded the parental units' world view with soccer and wrestling.
his high school years - well, let's just say i found myself having to look up to him a lot! he passed me by his sophmore year and then his dad by graduation. soccer and wrestling gave way to tennis and driving and working and a move from where he had spent his most of his life to someplace else. . . not easy. . . he also got his first tattoo! seriously, one of my proudest moments.
post high school - living at home but working and planning for a day like today - when the pull of adventure and countless opportunities can no longer be ignored. . . yep, when a day like today finally arrives and the real journey begins.
i love you, spikeboy. . . always have, always will!
Sunday, June 14, 2009
is there anything wrong with being middle class?
ok, i'm just curious. . .
is there anything wrong with being middle class and being ok with being middle class?
although at the present time, i'm not sure if i'm upper lower class, middle lower class, lower middle class, middle middle class. . . but i'm pretty dang sure i'm not anything upper class. . .
is there anything wrong with being middle class and being ok with being middle class?
although at the present time, i'm not sure if i'm upper lower class, middle lower class, lower middle class, middle middle class. . . but i'm pretty dang sure i'm not anything upper class. . .
Saturday, June 13, 2009
let there be light!
well, the last couple of days have been nuts!
our oldest daughter and her husband just closed on their first domestic abode. after being apartment dwellers for the last couple of years, they took the plunge and bought a beautiful, completely remodeled townhouse.
as part of our housewarming gift to them, we offered to paint the master bedroom. the closing took way longer than anyone expected and legally allowed - (my opinion only) - so we didn't even get started painting until that evening with the furniture set to arrive the next morning. dave and i and lacey and micah all took part in the painting. becky even jumped in and grabbed a brush and a roller. i think she was the only member of our family not roped into one of mom's painting projects before now.
dave and i finished up at 1:00 am with what looked like some minor touch-up work to be done. but what looked better than fine in light bulb light, well, it did not look so fine in actual daylight. another coat was needed in many areas and there were a few errant paint drops on the floor. so becky and i spent part of a long lunch and then dave and i spent some time after dinner repainting and touching up. oh, and cleaning up.
side road - one of the best products known to mankind. . . Goof Off - "Everybody goofs up sometimes – which is why every home, garage and workshop needs Goof Off."
this got me thinking about artificial lighting vs daylight and how daylight is much more truthful about the condition of paint on the walls, dust on the end table, smudges on the window. . .
how the opinions of my family/friends on my character or complete strangers i have stopped to help are a sort of artificial light in my life. it's so easy to feel good about yourself and your life when you only look around with the help of a lamp or flashlight. the true test is God's daylight on my life. . . and let me tell you, there are a lot of smudges, dustballs, and 2nd coats needed. . .
i wonder what the spiritual equivalent of Goof Off is. . .
our oldest daughter and her husband just closed on their first domestic abode. after being apartment dwellers for the last couple of years, they took the plunge and bought a beautiful, completely remodeled townhouse.
as part of our housewarming gift to them, we offered to paint the master bedroom. the closing took way longer than anyone expected and legally allowed - (my opinion only) - so we didn't even get started painting until that evening with the furniture set to arrive the next morning. dave and i and lacey and micah all took part in the painting. becky even jumped in and grabbed a brush and a roller. i think she was the only member of our family not roped into one of mom's painting projects before now.
dave and i finished up at 1:00 am with what looked like some minor touch-up work to be done. but what looked better than fine in light bulb light, well, it did not look so fine in actual daylight. another coat was needed in many areas and there were a few errant paint drops on the floor. so becky and i spent part of a long lunch and then dave and i spent some time after dinner repainting and touching up. oh, and cleaning up.
side road - one of the best products known to mankind. . . Goof Off - "Everybody goofs up sometimes – which is why every home, garage and workshop needs Goof Off."
this got me thinking about artificial lighting vs daylight and how daylight is much more truthful about the condition of paint on the walls, dust on the end table, smudges on the window. . .
how the opinions of my family/friends on my character or complete strangers i have stopped to help are a sort of artificial light in my life. it's so easy to feel good about yourself and your life when you only look around with the help of a lamp or flashlight. the true test is God's daylight on my life. . . and let me tell you, there are a lot of smudges, dustballs, and 2nd coats needed. . .
i wonder what the spiritual equivalent of Goof Off is. . .
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
community living
a friend of mine used to say that when we share only our victories we build competition. BUT when we share our losses we build community.
i was thinking today of how often in my quest to encourage someone i fail to share that i fail. . . and somewhat regularly at that.
that being all i can be for God and living my life with excellence standards so i can truly be a good witness/ambassador for Him is exhausting and can do more harm than good in my trying to earn the right to be heard.
it's about being honest in our humanity - because only then can we really be reflective of God. if i set myself up as a superhero, there is little room for the awesomeness of His mercy and grace in my life. if i am honest in my humanity, there is all the room needed to give Him the glory for what good there is. . .
i was thinking today of how often in my quest to encourage someone i fail to share that i fail. . . and somewhat regularly at that.
that being all i can be for God and living my life with excellence standards so i can truly be a good witness/ambassador for Him is exhausting and can do more harm than good in my trying to earn the right to be heard.
it's about being honest in our humanity - because only then can we really be reflective of God. if i set myself up as a superhero, there is little room for the awesomeness of His mercy and grace in my life. if i am honest in my humanity, there is all the room needed to give Him the glory for what good there is. . .
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Total Eclipse of the Heart: Literal Video Version
the original 1984 Bonnie Tyler video made absolutely no sense - good song but weirder than weird imagery. someone has given us a literal version where the song and the "art" are finally
in synch.
Monday, June 8, 2009
3 resources for the domestically challenged
over the years i have struggled with keeping my house to some level of non-CHAOS ("can't have anyone over syndrome" - per the fly lady - but i'm getting to that).
i have actually used the same philosophy with my home that i use with my personal devotions. i use what works until it doesn't.
when we only had 1.68 children, my devotions were leisurely affairs over tea while they were napping and cleaned as needed. when that 1.68 became 5.7 - little boys count double :) - i used nap time for cleaning and wedged my quiet times - i had multiple small increment devos during the day - in between handing out snacks and cleaning up after snacks, after placing a small child on a potty chair and wiping said small child's bottom, in between laying down to go to sleep and actually falling asleep - sometimes this amounted to a12 second devotional. i sang a lot of worship songs while picking up, cleaning up, straightening up, and throwing up - i throw up easily when i'm tired. i hoped that the worship in the worship songs counted for something. i had three intensive years of bible school - no where in all that instruction did we cover quiet times for mommies. so i rolled with the punches and adapted.
ok, so i know some of you are rolling your eyes. . . please, just file this away for the future - when one of your friends/sisters/grown children can't keep house like you do.
when the kids were really small i used the SHE system by Pam Young and Peggy Jones (Side-tracked Home Executives). a great little system based on rotating 3x5 index cards that scheduled chores on a daily, weekly, and monthly basis. it worked and the sisters who developed it were really funny! (the only time this didn't work is when the card file got dumped. . . )
when the kids were school age i used the flipper system developed by Sandra Felton, founder of MA (Messies Anonymous). too cool! using index cards inserted into a flipper photo album with a over-head marker to check off the chores. i had made some homemaking progress so this was a step forward.
then the kids were tweens and teens, i was working full-time and i needed some extra help. enter The Fly Lady and her marvelous computer based system with fun stuff to do like the 27 fling boogie.
each system met a different homemaking skill level need for me. so i share all this with you to say - IF YOUR CURRENT SYSTEM IS NOT WORKING. . . FIND ANOTHER ONE!
do not give up! there is help out there!
dave and i will be empty nesters soon - like in 9 weeks - and i am going back the flipper system. . . i'll let you know how this goes. . . i'll also post something about my adventures in quiet times. . .
i have actually used the same philosophy with my home that i use with my personal devotions. i use what works until it doesn't.
when we only had 1.68 children, my devotions were leisurely affairs over tea while they were napping and cleaned as needed. when that 1.68 became 5.7 - little boys count double :) - i used nap time for cleaning and wedged my quiet times - i had multiple small increment devos during the day - in between handing out snacks and cleaning up after snacks, after placing a small child on a potty chair and wiping said small child's bottom, in between laying down to go to sleep and actually falling asleep - sometimes this amounted to a12 second devotional. i sang a lot of worship songs while picking up, cleaning up, straightening up, and throwing up - i throw up easily when i'm tired. i hoped that the worship in the worship songs counted for something. i had three intensive years of bible school - no where in all that instruction did we cover quiet times for mommies. so i rolled with the punches and adapted.
ok, so i know some of you are rolling your eyes. . . please, just file this away for the future - when one of your friends/sisters/grown children can't keep house like you do.
when the kids were really small i used the SHE system by Pam Young and Peggy Jones (Side-tracked Home Executives). a great little system based on rotating 3x5 index cards that scheduled chores on a daily, weekly, and monthly basis. it worked and the sisters who developed it were really funny! (the only time this didn't work is when the card file got dumped. . . )
when the kids were school age i used the flipper system developed by Sandra Felton, founder of MA (Messies Anonymous). too cool! using index cards inserted into a flipper photo album with a over-head marker to check off the chores. i had made some homemaking progress so this was a step forward.
then the kids were tweens and teens, i was working full-time and i needed some extra help. enter The Fly Lady and her marvelous computer based system with fun stuff to do like the 27 fling boogie.
each system met a different homemaking skill level need for me. so i share all this with you to say - IF YOUR CURRENT SYSTEM IS NOT WORKING. . . FIND ANOTHER ONE!
do not give up! there is help out there!
dave and i will be empty nesters soon - like in 9 weeks - and i am going back the flipper system. . . i'll let you know how this goes. . . i'll also post something about my adventures in quiet times. . .
Saturday, June 6, 2009
another one bites the dust
another phone call, another stunned youth pastor outta a job.
so i'm calling for the creation of a clergy/church clearinghouse - a matchmaking service of sorts.
it seems that a lot of good youth pastors have been hired, used, abused, and spit out by chucklehead churches. and a lot of good churches have hired and then been used, abused and spit on by chucklehead youth pastors - hence the clearinghouse idea. . .
i propose we set-up the dating service so chucklehead congregations can find chucklehead youth dudes and keep their chuckleheadedness in the chucklehead family. . . leaving healthy churches and pastors to find each other and get on with the work of the gospel without the distraction that comes with having to work with/around chuckleheads.
any takers?
so i'm calling for the creation of a clergy/church clearinghouse - a matchmaking service of sorts.
it seems that a lot of good youth pastors have been hired, used, abused, and spit out by chucklehead churches. and a lot of good churches have hired and then been used, abused and spit on by chucklehead youth pastors - hence the clearinghouse idea. . .
i propose we set-up the dating service so chucklehead congregations can find chucklehead youth dudes and keep their chuckleheadedness in the chucklehead family. . . leaving healthy churches and pastors to find each other and get on with the work of the gospel without the distraction that comes with having to work with/around chuckleheads.
any takers?
Friday, June 5, 2009
why i don't drive a red car even though i want to
i like red. a lot. i like red cars. a lot. but i do not drive one because i hold to the theory, urban legend, whatever you want to call it - that red cars get pulled over more often.
if you google that statement you will get proof that
- yes, they do
- no, they don't
- insurance rates are higher for red cars because of this "fact"
- insurance rates have nothing to do with what color car you are driving
all i know is that while driving to Minnesota this week, I was in a "pack" of 5 cars with a red one towards the front. we were all driving about 12 miles over the speed limit. we all slowed a bit when we came over the rise and spotted a police car in the median. we probably all breathed a sigh of relief as we realized he wasn't making a move.
but then he did. he made his way steadily through the cars behind us, to get to us - who were now all driving 2 miles over the speed limit, and finally settled right behind the red one. i held my breath for like 10 seconds and then. . . sure enough, the lights went on.
ok, so i don't know if a ticket was even issued or if there was a reason the officer was specifically looking for that red car. all i know is while driving to Minnesota this week, I was in a "pack" of 5 cars all speeding a tiny bit and only the red one got pulled over.
i will continue to admire other people's red cars.
if you google that statement you will get proof that
- yes, they do
- no, they don't
- insurance rates are higher for red cars because of this "fact"
- insurance rates have nothing to do with what color car you are driving
all i know is that while driving to Minnesota this week, I was in a "pack" of 5 cars with a red one towards the front. we were all driving about 12 miles over the speed limit. we all slowed a bit when we came over the rise and spotted a police car in the median. we probably all breathed a sigh of relief as we realized he wasn't making a move.
but then he did. he made his way steadily through the cars behind us, to get to us - who were now all driving 2 miles over the speed limit, and finally settled right behind the red one. i held my breath for like 10 seconds and then. . . sure enough, the lights went on.
ok, so i don't know if a ticket was even issued or if there was a reason the officer was specifically looking for that red car. all i know is while driving to Minnesota this week, I was in a "pack" of 5 cars all speeding a tiny bit and only the red one got pulled over.
i will continue to admire other people's red cars.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
a change of perspective
i am in Winona, Minnesota today - hanging around doing the tourist thing while one of my kids is sitting through transfer student orientation at one of the local places of higher learning.
yesterday, on the way here, said kid and i were admiring the lush green, rolling, hilly, bluff-infested countryside. we actually stopped talking for a few miles. then we laughed - it was pretty dang obvious we are Chicago flatlanders when this amount of topography can make us ooh and aah.
i'm from out west where mountains are mountains and well, massively rugged and more than awe inspiring. they're down-right "put-you-in your-puny human-place" gigantimungous (ok, not found in the dictionary - but definitely should be). not to mention the other extreme "The Grand Canyon" - aptly named for depth and grandness. looking at either one puts things in perspective - quickly and decisively.
but since i've lived in the level land of Lincoln for over half of my life, and my day-to-day view has adapted - the lush green, rolling, hilly, bluff-infested countryside was an unexpected sight for sore eyes.
so, no - it wasn't the panoramic view of THE ROCKIES. . . it was Wisconsin!?!
yesterday, on the way here, said kid and i were admiring the lush green, rolling, hilly, bluff-infested countryside. we actually stopped talking for a few miles. then we laughed - it was pretty dang obvious we are Chicago flatlanders when this amount of topography can make us ooh and aah.
i'm from out west where mountains are mountains and well, massively rugged and more than awe inspiring. they're down-right "put-you-in your-puny human-place" gigantimungous (ok, not found in the dictionary - but definitely should be). not to mention the other extreme "The Grand Canyon" - aptly named for depth and grandness. looking at either one puts things in perspective - quickly and decisively.
but since i've lived in the level land of Lincoln for over half of my life, and my day-to-day view has adapted - the lush green, rolling, hilly, bluff-infested countryside was an unexpected sight for sore eyes.
so, no - it wasn't the panoramic view of THE ROCKIES. . . it was Wisconsin!?!
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
back in the saddle again
well, after an extended blogging/internet fast, i am back. i wish i could say that it was self-imposed for serious spiritual contemplation but that would be a serious stretch of the truth.
it was woman vs technology and i was on the losing team.
so let's get begin again or pick up where we left off or start in the middle or. . .
it was woman vs technology and i was on the losing team.
so let's get begin again or pick up where we left off or start in the middle or. . .
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Vintage Sesame Street-Rubber Ducky (Ernie)
if i'm posting duck songs today. . . i havta post my all time favorite. . . this one has a nicer, gentler duck. . .
The Duck Song
ok, i'm not sure if there are hidden meanings, fascist overtones, or moral lessons in this little ditty. . . but it caught my fancy so i thought i'd share. . .
Friday, March 13, 2009
violent video games and the coming post-apocalyptic futre
i have long thought about the question of whether or not violent video games can adequately prepare our children for the coming post-apocalyptic future. . .
i'm glad The Onion has done it's homework. . .The Onion's answer
i'm glad The Onion has done it's homework. . .The Onion's answer
Saturday, March 7, 2009
30 Second Bunnies Minisode - Bunnies: Napoleon Dynamite
if you have never seen the Starz Bunnies condense a film into 30 seconds. . . well, you just haven't lived life. . .
they have a unique collection - something for everyone. . . Casablanca, Rocky, No Country for Old Men, 16 Candles. . . and if you are into slasher movies. . .
i am a chicken when it comes to horror flicks. . . so i just catch the bunny version. . . none of that building up of suspense stuff. . . or gory blood. . . it's a cartoon. . . i'm telling you. . .it's the way to go.
but here. . . enjoy Napoleon Dynamite - bunny style!
Friday, March 6, 2009
last night at ochestra hall
last night dave and i went into the city for a night at the symphony. . . ok, not something we do regularly or for that matter, have ever done before. but what made this special was Charlie Chaplin's silent film"Modern Times" was shown - exit organist - enter orchestra! how cool was that?
Chaplin's "Modern Times"
Members of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra Timothy Brock, conductor
In the last screen appearance of the Little Tramp, the character that brought Charlie Chaplin world fame, the incomparable actor-director created a brilliant comedy about man’s struggle to survive in the industrialized world during the Great Depression.
Modern Times © Roy Export Company Establishment.
Members of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra Timothy Brock, conductor
In the last screen appearance of the Little Tramp, the character that brought Charlie Chaplin world fame, the incomparable actor-director created a brilliant comedy about man’s struggle to survive in the industrialized world during the Great Depression.
Modern Times © Roy Export Company Establishment.
i had really forgotten what a great "dancer" (that words hardly justifies Chaplin's incredible movements/body language) and performer he was.
anyway, if you ever get the chance to see a Chaplin film on the big screen - organist or orchestra - make the effort. you will be glad you did.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Left Behind (The Rapture Song)
as someone who didn't sleep for 12 days straight after seeing A Thief in the Night as a 5th grader,
debated pre-trib vs post-trib as a college junior,
converted to pre-wrath as a thirty-something,
and now holds strong to the apathetic eschatological view - i know its going to happen, i know i'm going, i just don't care about the when, where, and how - and i'm much happier for it. . .
as that "someone" - i found closure in the five minutes and sixteen seconds of this video.
comic books and church music part I
i work for a toy distributor. i was only there to help out before the holidays and ended up staying a bit longer than planned. it has been cooler than cool for one specific reason and it has nothing to do with the toys. . . i work with people who love sci-fi and comic books.
it is great to be able to talk about this stuff with other people. dave is ecstatic that i have found some "Trekkie" friends to play with. . . . he thinks all sci-fi fans are created equal - he doesn't understand that you can be a sci-fi affectionado without being a Captain Kirk fan - but i digress.
one of my co-workers loaned me "the watchmen" - a graphic novel in which the 12 individual series comics that make up the novel were released 20 years ago and is finally making it to the big screen this week. i don't want to do a review here but i do want to touch on one of the themes - what do super heroes do when they are forced into retirement? (you will have to read it or watch it to find out or you could email me and ask me and i might tell you).
do they fade gracefully into the night and make new lives for themselves in a world that no longer needs or remembers them? or do they they fade gracefully into the night allowing bitterness and anger to hijack their moral compasses and end up planning the destruction of said ungrateful world?
ok, i was reading the watchmen during the time i was talking with someone about the church music's evolution/revolution the last 30 years - organists, pianists, choirs, music directors, Hymns (spelled with a CAPITAL "H"), choruses and cantatas to guitarists, keyboardists, drummers, praise teams, worship pastors, worship songs and choruses, and hymns (spelled with a little "h").
what do organists and pianists and choir members and choir directors do when they are forced into retirement?
do they fade gracefully into the night and make new lives for themselves in a church that no longer needs or remembers them? or do they fade gracefully into the night, leaving that church to search for one with a pipe organ and robes?
part II tomorrow. . .
it is great to be able to talk about this stuff with other people. dave is ecstatic that i have found some "Trekkie" friends to play with. . . . he thinks all sci-fi fans are created equal - he doesn't understand that you can be a sci-fi affectionado without being a Captain Kirk fan - but i digress.
one of my co-workers loaned me "the watchmen" - a graphic novel in which the 12 individual series comics that make up the novel were released 20 years ago and is finally making it to the big screen this week. i don't want to do a review here but i do want to touch on one of the themes - what do super heroes do when they are forced into retirement? (you will have to read it or watch it to find out or you could email me and ask me and i might tell you).
do they fade gracefully into the night and make new lives for themselves in a world that no longer needs or remembers them? or do they they fade gracefully into the night allowing bitterness and anger to hijack their moral compasses and end up planning the destruction of said ungrateful world?
ok, i was reading the watchmen during the time i was talking with someone about the church music's evolution/revolution the last 30 years - organists, pianists, choirs, music directors, Hymns (spelled with a CAPITAL "H"), choruses and cantatas to guitarists, keyboardists, drummers, praise teams, worship pastors, worship songs and choruses, and hymns (spelled with a little "h").
what do organists and pianists and choir members and choir directors do when they are forced into retirement?
do they fade gracefully into the night and make new lives for themselves in a church that no longer needs or remembers them? or do they fade gracefully into the night, leaving that church to search for one with a pipe organ and robes?
part II tomorrow. . .
Sunday, March 1, 2009
time for the current reading list
ok, here is what i happen to be reading at the moment. . .
Joe Carter and John Coleman's How to Argue Like Jesus: Learning Persuasion From History's Greatest Communicator
i literally just started this one today. . .
a friend sent me a copy of the purse-driven life: It really is all about me by Anita Renfroe - i sorely needed a good laugh and i got one - haven't finished it yet. . . and thanks a lot Joy!!!!
D.L. Moody on Spiritual Leadership by Steve Miller - found this on a bookshelf in our family room - odd really, have no pickin' idea where it came from - i'm a Moody grad so i've read a bit about the school's founder but not necessarily from a spiritual leadership point of reference. . . i'll let you know.
my boss knows i like sci-fi and handed me a copy of C.S. Lewis' Out of the Silent Planet which i haven't read since my senior year in college back in the 80's. . . it is as good as i remembered. and no, we're not in Kansas or Narnia anymore. . .
and lastly, thanks to a co-workers lending library of great stuff i am in the midst of numerous comic books and graphic novels. . . and the really truly big book of Marvel: the Characters and Their Universe. hey, i work for a toy distributor and the office i share with Sales is done in Super Heroes and Super Villians. . . the Villians ended up on my side of the office. . . hmmmmmm, i wonder what that means?
Joe Carter and John Coleman's How to Argue Like Jesus: Learning Persuasion From History's Greatest Communicator
i literally just started this one today. . .
a friend sent me a copy of the purse-driven life: It really is all about me by Anita Renfroe - i sorely needed a good laugh and i got one - haven't finished it yet. . . and thanks a lot Joy!!!!
D.L. Moody on Spiritual Leadership by Steve Miller - found this on a bookshelf in our family room - odd really, have no pickin' idea where it came from - i'm a Moody grad so i've read a bit about the school's founder but not necessarily from a spiritual leadership point of reference. . . i'll let you know.
my boss knows i like sci-fi and handed me a copy of C.S. Lewis' Out of the Silent Planet which i haven't read since my senior year in college back in the 80's. . . it is as good as i remembered. and no, we're not in Kansas or Narnia anymore. . .
and lastly, thanks to a co-workers lending library of great stuff i am in the midst of numerous comic books and graphic novels. . . and the really truly big book of Marvel: the Characters and Their Universe. hey, i work for a toy distributor and the office i share with Sales is done in Super Heroes and Super Villians. . . the Villians ended up on my side of the office. . . hmmmmmm, i wonder what that means?
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Calgon, take me away!
when my kids were small i contemplated how my life would change when they grew up and moved out and on.
i could take a bath with no one banging on the door needing to use the bathroom. we only had one bathroom for about a third of their lives - it just seemed like an eternity.
i could take a bath with no one banging on the door demanding the whereabouts of his/her favorite toy. scary thing is i usually knew the answer.
i could take a bath with no one calling from 911 asking if our house was really on fire and should they send help. that one was exciting - but i'm really glad they called first.
i could eat hot foods hot and cold foods cold. actually, i kinda like everything room temperature these days.
i could drink my drink without sharing it and getting those "floaters" that magically appeared. now i have four legged beasts that will lap up anything in a cup without the benefit of "the magic word."
i could watch TV that was geared towards minds that dealt with mortgages, grocery lists, and budgets that didn't budget. in other words - NO PUPPETS!
i could actually find a pen, a stapler, my keys, the bottle of crazy glue, and BOTH of any pair of my shoes without holding The Inquisition.
i could plan a week's menu that didn't include macaroni and cheese, grilled cheese toasties, or string cheese. the latter which was invented by a desperate soccer mom who was hungry from all that car-pooling and tired of eating little graham crackers shaped like cuddly teddy bears.
all that contemplation got me nowhere. . .
i used to think my bath time was too short unless i started to wrinkle. but at my age, well, let's just say i don't need any help in the wrinkle department.
i used to think food served at the perfect temperature ensured perfect enjoyment and a drink without floaters would be heaven. not so much. . .
i used to think TV could stimulate my intellect - well, yeah, no. . . yeah, i'm pretty sure, no. . .
i used to think the kids were the reason i couldn't find anything around the house. hmm, still looking for one of my boots. . .
i used to think menu planning was mindless. i realize i just eat yogurt for breakfast and lunch only having to worry about what's for dinner these days.
now i know that i sorta miss some of the above mentioned schtuff and am looking forward to another generation of Corlew's running around wrecking havoc and fun and leaving handprints and hugs every time they leave the room. . .just not anytime real soon.
i could take a bath with no one banging on the door needing to use the bathroom. we only had one bathroom for about a third of their lives - it just seemed like an eternity.
i could take a bath with no one banging on the door demanding the whereabouts of his/her favorite toy. scary thing is i usually knew the answer.
i could take a bath with no one calling from 911 asking if our house was really on fire and should they send help. that one was exciting - but i'm really glad they called first.
i could eat hot foods hot and cold foods cold. actually, i kinda like everything room temperature these days.
i could drink my drink without sharing it and getting those "floaters" that magically appeared. now i have four legged beasts that will lap up anything in a cup without the benefit of "the magic word."
i could watch TV that was geared towards minds that dealt with mortgages, grocery lists, and budgets that didn't budget. in other words - NO PUPPETS!
i could actually find a pen, a stapler, my keys, the bottle of crazy glue, and BOTH of any pair of my shoes without holding The Inquisition.
i could plan a week's menu that didn't include macaroni and cheese, grilled cheese toasties, or string cheese. the latter which was invented by a desperate soccer mom who was hungry from all that car-pooling and tired of eating little graham crackers shaped like cuddly teddy bears.
all that contemplation got me nowhere. . .
i used to think my bath time was too short unless i started to wrinkle. but at my age, well, let's just say i don't need any help in the wrinkle department.
i used to think food served at the perfect temperature ensured perfect enjoyment and a drink without floaters would be heaven. not so much. . .
i used to think TV could stimulate my intellect - well, yeah, no. . . yeah, i'm pretty sure, no. . .
i used to think the kids were the reason i couldn't find anything around the house. hmm, still looking for one of my boots. . .
i used to think menu planning was mindless. i realize i just eat yogurt for breakfast and lunch only having to worry about what's for dinner these days.
now i know that i sorta miss some of the above mentioned schtuff and am looking forward to another generation of Corlew's running around wrecking havoc and fun and leaving handprints and hugs every time they leave the room. . .just not anytime real soon.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
silence may not be golden but it is quiet
the last two weeks have been quiet.
internet and networking issues have been plaguing our home. (we will be switching internet and phone and tv provider next month. . . there were so many people jumping ship that the install dates are 5 weeks out. so the next 4 weeks will be interesting fighting to get and maintain a connection. . . i think i will be spending a lot of time at the library.)
and i dropped my cell phone in a cup of coffee. . . yeah, i know. . . i was on a land line and my cell rang so i picked it up to see who it was, looked, and then dropped it my into my cup o' java while attempting to answer a caller's question, grab a copy off the printer and place my cell back on my desk. . .
note - out of desperation, i got on youtube and followed somebody's directions on how to "save" a submerged cell . . . my cell works. . . kinda. . .
so, the last two weeks have been very quiet.
and the weird part is. . . after the first week of panic, nausea, frustration, and incessant talking to myself - i was ok with it being so quiet.
i wasn't lonely.
i wasn't frazzled.
i wasn't grumpy.
i think i might have been suffering from a case of a severe, self-imposed "online-itis." you know, the disease where you try to stay connected with at least 97.3% of the people who facebook, email, and text message you while attempting to stay well-read on today's current events, world-wide current events. . . AND live your life in the face-to-face world of family, work, friends, and more work. . .
i think i'll pencil in a couple of weeks for an off-line vacation come August. . .
internet and networking issues have been plaguing our home. (we will be switching internet and phone and tv provider next month. . . there were so many people jumping ship that the install dates are 5 weeks out. so the next 4 weeks will be interesting fighting to get and maintain a connection. . . i think i will be spending a lot of time at the library.)
and i dropped my cell phone in a cup of coffee. . . yeah, i know. . . i was on a land line and my cell rang so i picked it up to see who it was, looked, and then dropped it my into my cup o' java while attempting to answer a caller's question, grab a copy off the printer and place my cell back on my desk. . .
note - out of desperation, i got on youtube and followed somebody's directions on how to "save" a submerged cell . . . my cell works. . . kinda. . .
so, the last two weeks have been very quiet.
and the weird part is. . . after the first week of panic, nausea, frustration, and incessant talking to myself - i was ok with it being so quiet.
i wasn't lonely.
i wasn't frazzled.
i wasn't grumpy.
i think i might have been suffering from a case of a severe, self-imposed "online-itis." you know, the disease where you try to stay connected with at least 97.3% of the people who facebook, email, and text message you while attempting to stay well-read on today's current events, world-wide current events. . . AND live your life in the face-to-face world of family, work, friends, and more work. . .
i think i'll pencil in a couple of weeks for an off-line vacation come August. . .
Monday, February 9, 2009
I Love Jesus but I Drink A Little - the song
i hate country music - but i think this was a product of divine inspiration. . .
i wonder if if we can sing this at church. . .
Ellen DeGeneres ~ I Love Jesus But I Drink A Little (HQ)
ok, i know it's a little long - but i had to post this. . .
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
and Stanley brings us Roger
yesterday I posted about how Stanley, our lab/english setter came to help us out. today i need to tell you how Roger, our boston terrier came to help Stanley. . . and us too.
after Lacey completed high school by correspondence, tutoring, and internet class, she wanted/needed to try college. POTS was still in the picture but she had at least come to a point where she knew her boundaries (most of the time) and knew what to expect when she went outside those boundaries. (those boundaries included things like drinking enough liquids, keeping up a high salt intake, not getting overheated, making sure she got enough sleep, resting when needed.)
so Lacey signed up for some classes at our local jr. college and away she went. and Stanley, who had been with Lacey 24/7 for almost 3 years lost it. he suffered huge with separation anxiety. Dave took him to the vet and got a clean bill of physical health but Stanley was obviously not doing well. i talked to our vet's office and they suggested doggie prozac or a companion pet. well, that was not much of a choice for me. . . i'd take two dogs over one dog on medication any day. and this was Stanley we were talking about - our personal miracle worker in fur. we owed him.
so i talked with Dave. he was i think, hoping that Stanley would snap out of it and we wouldn't have to make a choice. . . but Stanley was not snapping anything. . .
in passing, we heard through the grapevine that a litter of pups had been born to Abby and Duke, Stanley's friends from where we used to live. Stanley had many romps with Duke, who lived next door and a very unfortunate one with Abby when she was puppy - she fractured a bone in her leg and had to wear a little doggie cast. Stanley did feel bad about that when we told him.
Dave said something like if we were to get another dog, a pup from them would be his choice.
i took that as a green light and called the owners only to find that no puppies were available - they were all spoken for. Ok, so much for that. so i talked to Dave about the disappointing news. Looking back, he did not seem as disappointed as i was. and he was not interested in looking for a second dog at the local shelter.
two weeks later the owners called and said a pup was now available and asked if we would want him. WOULD WE WANT HIM?????? are you kidding???? of course, we would - using the all inclusive "we." Karen did not tell Dave because she wanted to surprize him.
Her thinking. . . God's divine will. . . how could Dave argue with Him?
so two weeks later the puppy was picked up and brought to his new home. . . and we all lived happily ever after.
not quite.
Dave was not pleased and was pretty sure Karen's will got in the way of God's - Karen was not happy and did not agree with Dave's assessment of the will of God. but the puppy was adorable AND housebroken and within a couple of days there a was a noticeable improvement in Stanley.
so Roger became a Corlew dog and helped Stanley, the other Corlew dog through his separation anxiety.
so when people ask us about our dogs - we tell them Stanley is Lacey's dog and Roger is Stanley's.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
POTS brings us Stanley
i have written about POTS before - twice actually. i wrote about the difficulty of living with POTS and about the whole gift of unanswered prayer that i got to unwrap.
but i didn't write to you about Stanley and how he came to rescue the Corlews. . .
it was before we had THE diagnosis - it was during the hard, dark time when we knew something was wrong but the medical community was convinced that this was depression. and yes, i would agree that there was depression - lacey depressed because of the never-ending-wicked headache and fatigue and light-headedness and loss of mobility and friends - dave and i worn out and down by the brick wall we kept running into - her siblings bewildered and tired of Lacey's illness being the focus of our family.
after a particularly depressing doctor appointment, i recieved a call from an affliate therapist who asked about Lacey and wondered if we had considered pet therapy. i assured him we had pets- a very fine feline by the name of Nelson and a tiny, tiny kitten name Lovey . "No, Mrs. Corlew - I mean a responsive pet, like a dog." we spoke for a few more minutes and then signed off. we never spoke again, i never got the chance to say "thank you."
we had given up our yellow lab the year before. Thor was Dave's dog, the son of two great hunting dogs. because Dave was not able to devote as much time to training Thor and hunting, the dog became a confused house dog. so Dave trained Thor to sit and stay and come and lay down. Thor did well with Dave but not so good with the rest of us (Becky has a good story about running around our neighborhood in her pj's trying to get Thor back home). we had bought a home in the country but on a busy road and knew that one distracted dog and one busy highway were not a good combination. Thor went to live with good friends with a fenced-in backyard and Dave decreed "no more dogs."
at our house, when Dave "decreeds" something, we all know not to mess with it. . . until we have to. i knew that discussion and manipulation were not options so i prayed. i remember laying in bed that night telling God that although i knew, i just knew a dog would help Lacey - there was nothing to be done unless HE chose to intervene.
the short story is that one of my co-workers came to me the very next day inquiring after Lacey's progress and wondering if we had considered therapy in the form of a puppy because his parent's dog had gotten in the family way and they would love to help us and give Lacey a puppy. (yep, i'm aware that that was one long, honkin' run-on sentence - i'm ok with that - try reading it out loud without taking a breath - that's exactly what the whole experience felt like)
wow! God had spoken and provided. . . how could Dave argue with Him???
Dave, Lacey, and I found ourselves on the other side of the cheddar curtain in Kenosha, meeting the mama dog, the papa dog, and all the pups. all Lacey can remember is sitting down on the floor and then Stanley was in her arms.
the owners gave us a dish towel to wrap him in for the ride home - we hadn't come prepared because Dave said we were just going to "look" at the pups. Dave was strangely quiet on the ride home. i didn't bother to inquire. . . this was between him and God.
Stanley did not cure Lacey but he did rescue us. he gave us a new focus, a reason to laugh and helped Lacey by needing to go out and be fed and be loved and love her back. he earned his place with the man of the house with his loyalty to Lacey, his gift of alerting us when she needed something, his ability to do something totally off the wall when the family's stress level got too high (yes, he opened the delivery box and ate the whole left-over pizza in the 27 seconds it took us to walk our guests to door and say good-bye - he did that all without the benefit of thumbs, we were mad but impressed).
Stanley was Lacey's best friend and smart enough to choose Dave as his next best friend. Dave accepted.
i believe in the difference a pet can make in lives of people struggling with illness.
i believe in a God who cares enough to send a puppy to a sick little girl and changes her father's mind.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
shattered stained glass part II
shatteredstainedglass.com is set to open its virtual doors sometime next week. it has been an adventure, to say the least but i have had the great privilege of traveling this road with 4 exceptional women. 4 women from different walks of life in different stages of life - brought together to accomplish that which none us could have done on her own. we have built it for us and women like us.
shatteredstainglass.com is for the woman who doesn't fit in with women's ministry, the woman who "tried" church and walked away more wounded than when she first walked in the door, the woman who finds that pat answers and caligraphy bible verses don't even begin to help with a life lived in the fast lane or the carpool.
it is for those of us who have tried make ourselves fit in with the "church ladies." (i mean no disrespect by that term - i have reserved it for those women who are comfortable and content with women's ministry today.)
side road - my value set was slightly off kilter compared to ladies in the Mary/Martha Missionary Circle. trust me, i admit it - i'm a little on the eccentric side. i would rather talk about theology than carpet stain removal. not that i didn't think that removing carpet stains isn't important - i'm just not wired to want to talk about it while hanging out with a group of women (ok, i'm not wired to want to talk about it with anyone, anywhere). and because they seemed to like talking about it. . . well, i knew something was definitely wrong with me.
i spent a lot of time looking for women like me and every once in a while i'd find one. but it truly was "every once in a while. . . " and we would try the "meeting" and end up going out for a cup of coffee afterwards to decompress. we would try a few more "meetings" and then just forgo them and meet at the restaurant. we would talk about politics and faith, money and faith, housework and a lack of faith, books and faith, sex and faith. . . basically, life and faith. no devotional, no church business, no small talk - real life and coffee with no pretense or masks. it was good. "as iron sharpens iron. . . "
part of the problem is that a lot of today's women's ministry is event driven. i personally do not enjoy ladies' teas or brunches or socials - never have. and i am not saying that they should be abolished. . . just that they don't meet the needs of a lot of women who are part of the church body.
a lot of women don't do small talk well. not to mention that events don't necessarily lend themselves to honest disclosure among the participants. events are a great way to introduce your group to new people and vice a versa - but we seem to be missing the next step - and since we're good at event planning. . . we plan another big event.
a lot of life gets lived in between those events - a lot of life that isn't "safe" table talk.
and the church/women's ministry leaders don't always recognize that today's women's ministry is NOT a one-size-fits-all. forty years ago the majority (ok, all but one) of gals in my mom's bible study were married with children and didn't work outside the home. her group met Wednesday mornings. many churches today - as an afterthought - are adding an evening bible study for women who work outside the home modeled after the morning study - and that may not be the right model to follow.
the majority of women's ministry efforts are directed at those women who are "free" during the day or the "big event" for everyone.
we need a mentoring, discipleship kind of ministry to women. we don't need to buy a workbook to go through with each other. we need to go through life with each other - walking, talking, crying, learning to be brave, learning when and where to say "yes, please" and "no, thank you very much." we need to acknowledge that LOTS of times there are no easy answers and there is nothing WE can DO. we need to own up to the fact that a life lived by faith should be exactly that - a life lived by faith (insert your favorite definition of faith right here).
we need to stop exploiting - and yes, i chose that word very carefully - women who have been to hell and back and lived to tell about it. a huge crisis traps you, consumes you, make whatever "IT" is the focal point of your incredibly human existence. and yes, a stronger and deeper faith can be forged in that tremendous heat and pressure.
but we are failing miserably in teaching/mentoring each other in the finer points of faith-living life day-to-day. some of us are not derailed by "the crisis" as much as we are the hundreds of little, important unimportant, seemingly inconsequential choices we make daily that slowly change our course, ever-so-slightly - and perhaps, even lead us - unknowingly to "the crisis."
a mentoring/discipleship, living life together ministry takes time and effort and can't usually be scheduled nicely to fit in a Daytimer or Blackberry. . .
so, our small attempt to meet our needs and those like us - shatteredstainedglass.com
contact me if you'd like an invitation. . .
shatteredstainglass.com is for the woman who doesn't fit in with women's ministry, the woman who "tried" church and walked away more wounded than when she first walked in the door, the woman who finds that pat answers and caligraphy bible verses don't even begin to help with a life lived in the fast lane or the carpool.
it is for those of us who have tried make ourselves fit in with the "church ladies." (i mean no disrespect by that term - i have reserved it for those women who are comfortable and content with women's ministry today.)
side road - my value set was slightly off kilter compared to ladies in the Mary/Martha Missionary Circle. trust me, i admit it - i'm a little on the eccentric side. i would rather talk about theology than carpet stain removal. not that i didn't think that removing carpet stains isn't important - i'm just not wired to want to talk about it while hanging out with a group of women (ok, i'm not wired to want to talk about it with anyone, anywhere). and because they seemed to like talking about it. . . well, i knew something was definitely wrong with me.
i spent a lot of time looking for women like me and every once in a while i'd find one. but it truly was "every once in a while. . . " and we would try the "meeting" and end up going out for a cup of coffee afterwards to decompress. we would try a few more "meetings" and then just forgo them and meet at the restaurant. we would talk about politics and faith, money and faith, housework and a lack of faith, books and faith, sex and faith. . . basically, life and faith. no devotional, no church business, no small talk - real life and coffee with no pretense or masks. it was good. "as iron sharpens iron. . . "
part of the problem is that a lot of today's women's ministry is event driven. i personally do not enjoy ladies' teas or brunches or socials - never have. and i am not saying that they should be abolished. . . just that they don't meet the needs of a lot of women who are part of the church body.
a lot of women don't do small talk well. not to mention that events don't necessarily lend themselves to honest disclosure among the participants. events are a great way to introduce your group to new people and vice a versa - but we seem to be missing the next step - and since we're good at event planning. . . we plan another big event.
a lot of life gets lived in between those events - a lot of life that isn't "safe" table talk.
and the church/women's ministry leaders don't always recognize that today's women's ministry is NOT a one-size-fits-all. forty years ago the majority (ok, all but one) of gals in my mom's bible study were married with children and didn't work outside the home. her group met Wednesday mornings. many churches today - as an afterthought - are adding an evening bible study for women who work outside the home modeled after the morning study - and that may not be the right model to follow.
the majority of women's ministry efforts are directed at those women who are "free" during the day or the "big event" for everyone.
we need a mentoring, discipleship kind of ministry to women. we don't need to buy a workbook to go through with each other. we need to go through life with each other - walking, talking, crying, learning to be brave, learning when and where to say "yes, please" and "no, thank you very much." we need to acknowledge that LOTS of times there are no easy answers and there is nothing WE can DO. we need to own up to the fact that a life lived by faith should be exactly that - a life lived by faith (insert your favorite definition of faith right here).
we need to stop exploiting - and yes, i chose that word very carefully - women who have been to hell and back and lived to tell about it. a huge crisis traps you, consumes you, make whatever "IT" is the focal point of your incredibly human existence. and yes, a stronger and deeper faith can be forged in that tremendous heat and pressure.
but we are failing miserably in teaching/mentoring each other in the finer points of faith-living life day-to-day. some of us are not derailed by "the crisis" as much as we are the hundreds of little, important unimportant, seemingly inconsequential choices we make daily that slowly change our course, ever-so-slightly - and perhaps, even lead us - unknowingly to "the crisis."
a mentoring/discipleship, living life together ministry takes time and effort and can't usually be scheduled nicely to fit in a Daytimer or Blackberry. . .
so, our small attempt to meet our needs and those like us - shatteredstainedglass.com
contact me if you'd like an invitation. . .
Friday, January 23, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
what i'm reading at this moment
it is time again to share reading lists. . . here's mine. . . please don't hesitate to share yours.
outside of the first book, i have been caught up in reading for nostalgia's sake. . .
Real Christianity by William Wilberforce, Esq.
it's a modern translation of his work published in 1797. his work exploring and laying out authentic faith that eventually helped end slavery in England. it is a tremendous book - and the principles are timeless and very relevant to our world today, 212 years later.
The Weapon Makers by A. E. Van Vogt
just started reading this sci-fi paperback written 60 years ago. it is so interesting reading sci-fi from that time period. WW II is a fresh memory and manned space travel is still a dream. . . if you like science fiction and haven't read anything before 1975, go to the nearest used book store and pick out 5 or 6 paperbacks for a couple of bucks. great way to spend an evening while you're snowed in or under.
Ladies' Home Journal's Art of Homemaking by Virginia T. Habeeb
my mom had given me her copy when i first got married back in the olden days before cell phones, PCs, and dust busters. i found it when i was unpacking some boxes that haven't been opened since 1985. wow, have things changed and boy am i glad they have changed! in the section about kitchen, the author estimates that a woman spends a minimum of 28 hours a week in the kitchen for meal preparation alone (pg 292). that's a part-time job right there! i won't even comment on the 134 pages devoted to cleaning the house or the 83 pages on doing laundry or the 3 page on mending your clothes or the 16 pages on entertaining. . .
People Power by Thomas J. Stevenin, Ph.D
Dr. Stevenin was a professor that Dave had when he was working was working on his M.A. Dave really enjoyed the prof, the class, and this book. i have given many copies away over the years because it is a wonderful read on "tapping the spirit of quality performance and service in your organization" (taken straight off the front cover). the book is out of print but i have found it on the internet.
i just realized i am one book short of my usual five at a time. . . i'm slackin'. . .
outside of the first book, i have been caught up in reading for nostalgia's sake. . .
Real Christianity by William Wilberforce, Esq.
it's a modern translation of his work published in 1797. his work exploring and laying out authentic faith that eventually helped end slavery in England. it is a tremendous book - and the principles are timeless and very relevant to our world today, 212 years later.
The Weapon Makers by A. E. Van Vogt
just started reading this sci-fi paperback written 60 years ago. it is so interesting reading sci-fi from that time period. WW II is a fresh memory and manned space travel is still a dream. . . if you like science fiction and haven't read anything before 1975, go to the nearest used book store and pick out 5 or 6 paperbacks for a couple of bucks. great way to spend an evening while you're snowed in or under.
Ladies' Home Journal's Art of Homemaking by Virginia T. Habeeb
my mom had given me her copy when i first got married back in the olden days before cell phones, PCs, and dust busters. i found it when i was unpacking some boxes that haven't been opened since 1985. wow, have things changed and boy am i glad they have changed! in the section about kitchen, the author estimates that a woman spends a minimum of 28 hours a week in the kitchen for meal preparation alone (pg 292). that's a part-time job right there! i won't even comment on the 134 pages devoted to cleaning the house or the 83 pages on doing laundry or the 3 page on mending your clothes or the 16 pages on entertaining. . .
People Power by Thomas J. Stevenin, Ph.D
Dr. Stevenin was a professor that Dave had when he was working was working on his M.A. Dave really enjoyed the prof, the class, and this book. i have given many copies away over the years because it is a wonderful read on "tapping the spirit of quality performance and service in your organization" (taken straight off the front cover). the book is out of print but i have found it on the internet.
i just realized i am one book short of my usual five at a time. . . i'm slackin'. . .
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
reading outside your neighborhood
i gave up magazine subscriptions a couple of years ago when i realized that i was cluttering my house with paper books with good articles but lots more advertising than reading material. unless i was going to cut out the articles and file them ( i wasn't), i didn't need the extra bulk laying around.
so i only read magazines at the doctor's office or the hair salon.
but then my parents gave us a gift subscription to The Smithsonian for Christmas. it was an awesome gift. it was the kind of gift you never think to buy for yourself. it was a window to the world.
yeah, yeah. i know what you are thinking. . . the internet provides an entire window wall to the world. true. but i pick and choose what i want to look at when i am surfing. . . if it doesn't look interesting, i keep my mouse click to myself.
but The Smithsonian, now here is a magazine that has a wide variety of topics and photos and a smaller advert section than say. . . well, the magazine with the sweetened, condensed-version articles which has slowly become an advertising piece with reading material thrown in for good measure. and because The Smithsonian is so well done, it earns a place on my coffee table.
and people actually pick it up and read about something that they would probably never take the time to look at on the web.
see, i love the internet and all the good, the bad, and the ugly it has to offer. . . but i have become more selfish knowledge consumer and lost being a more well-rounded reader that a magazine like The Smithsonian encourages. and hey, they are running a subscription special of $12 for 12 issues right now.
so challenge yourself to read outside what you normally read this week. and go look at a copy of The Smithsonian. . . at least visit them on the web. . . who knows what you might find. . .
so i only read magazines at the doctor's office or the hair salon.
but then my parents gave us a gift subscription to The Smithsonian for Christmas. it was an awesome gift. it was the kind of gift you never think to buy for yourself. it was a window to the world.
yeah, yeah. i know what you are thinking. . . the internet provides an entire window wall to the world. true. but i pick and choose what i want to look at when i am surfing. . . if it doesn't look interesting, i keep my mouse click to myself.
but The Smithsonian, now here is a magazine that has a wide variety of topics and photos and a smaller advert section than say. . . well, the magazine with the sweetened, condensed-version articles which has slowly become an advertising piece with reading material thrown in for good measure. and because The Smithsonian is so well done, it earns a place on my coffee table.
and people actually pick it up and read about something that they would probably never take the time to look at on the web.
see, i love the internet and all the good, the bad, and the ugly it has to offer. . . but i have become more selfish knowledge consumer and lost being a more well-rounded reader that a magazine like The Smithsonian encourages. and hey, they are running a subscription special of $12 for 12 issues right now.
so challenge yourself to read outside what you normally read this week. and go look at a copy of The Smithsonian. . . at least visit them on the web. . . who knows what you might find. . .
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Arm Chair Theologians
i am a card carrying member of ACTs - Arm Chair Theologians. we started a local chapter - what the heck, it is the only chapter - for the discussion of theology, more specifically, practical theology. i know, is there any other kind?
we are a small, rag tag group of Christ followers - some married, some not - some young, some not - some male, some not. we hold our meetings at a local Panera amidst coffee mugs, scones, and the occasional Jones Soda. we have tackled two books so far. Rudolf Otto's The Idea of the Holy, which was quite the undertaking for our first book and The Shack by William P. Young.
i know. . . the first book being an English translation of a classic in religious philosophy, was written before WWII by a distinguished German theologian. i quote the back cover "The Idea of the Holy, (which) is fundamentally an inquiry into the non-rational factor in the idea of the divine and its relation to the rational. . ." we spent weeks on the idea of the "mysterium" and the "numinous." we would all admit to falling far short of what the author intended. but we tackled it and we discussed it and we re-read chapters as we tried to get our heads and lives around it. and we admitted defeat in trying to define the undefinable Holy God we serve. actually, it only solidified our resolve to stop trying to make "human" sense out of our lives and Him. He is a big God.
the second book might seem an odd choice to follow The Idea of the Holy. ok, i thought it was a weird choice. but we picked it because of the portrayal of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. i don't want to "wreck" the book for anyone so i'm not going to blog about the particulars. i was reading the book because a friend asked me to and i did it without seeing any of the reviews - so i hit the chapter where the main character meets up with God with no warning or preconceived notions. i think it was better that way. there is theology in them thar pages. . . not a typical presentation for sure but it was worth the read and the lively discussion that followed. some of us really liked it and some of us really didn't. but it was interesting to see the author try to answer the question of why bad things happen to good people and where God (all three of them) is in that answer.
the book we are starting this week is a book i mentioned yesterday A Contrarian's Guide to Knowing God; Spirituality for the Rest of Us by Larry Osborne. it is a book with a lot of the same questions i and my square peg friends have been asking - sometimes in hushed tones so as not to offend others with our lack of faith and decorum. seriously, it is really worth the read - even if you are not a contrarian. because, i bet you know or live with one. . .
i'll let you know how this goes.
hey, if you like theology, find some people smarter than you that like it too - and start your own chapter of ACTs. (sorry, bad pun, i know. but couldn't resist. . . )
we are a small, rag tag group of Christ followers - some married, some not - some young, some not - some male, some not. we hold our meetings at a local Panera amidst coffee mugs, scones, and the occasional Jones Soda. we have tackled two books so far. Rudolf Otto's The Idea of the Holy, which was quite the undertaking for our first book and The Shack by William P. Young.
i know. . . the first book being an English translation of a classic in religious philosophy, was written before WWII by a distinguished German theologian. i quote the back cover "The Idea of the Holy, (which) is fundamentally an inquiry into the non-rational factor in the idea of the divine and its relation to the rational. . ." we spent weeks on the idea of the "mysterium" and the "numinous." we would all admit to falling far short of what the author intended. but we tackled it and we discussed it and we re-read chapters as we tried to get our heads and lives around it. and we admitted defeat in trying to define the undefinable Holy God we serve. actually, it only solidified our resolve to stop trying to make "human" sense out of our lives and Him. He is a big God.
the second book might seem an odd choice to follow The Idea of the Holy. ok, i thought it was a weird choice. but we picked it because of the portrayal of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. i don't want to "wreck" the book for anyone so i'm not going to blog about the particulars. i was reading the book because a friend asked me to and i did it without seeing any of the reviews - so i hit the chapter where the main character meets up with God with no warning or preconceived notions. i think it was better that way. there is theology in them thar pages. . . not a typical presentation for sure but it was worth the read and the lively discussion that followed. some of us really liked it and some of us really didn't. but it was interesting to see the author try to answer the question of why bad things happen to good people and where God (all three of them) is in that answer.
the book we are starting this week is a book i mentioned yesterday A Contrarian's Guide to Knowing God; Spirituality for the Rest of Us by Larry Osborne. it is a book with a lot of the same questions i and my square peg friends have been asking - sometimes in hushed tones so as not to offend others with our lack of faith and decorum. seriously, it is really worth the read - even if you are not a contrarian. because, i bet you know or live with one. . .
i'll let you know how this goes.
hey, if you like theology, find some people smarter than you that like it too - and start your own chapter of ACTs. (sorry, bad pun, i know. but couldn't resist. . . )
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
putting God first - kinda
i wanted to quote a passage from Larry Osborne's A Contrarian's Guide to Knowing God for a couple of reasons. . .
1. it has got me re-thinking how i think about prioritizing my life
2. it might encourage you to read the book
In chapter twenty-one entitled "Priority Number One? Why Putting God First Might Be a Bad Idea," the author makes a rather startling confession. . .
"After years of muddling along trying to make God my first priority but never being quite sure what it meant, I finally gave up.
I stopped putting God first.
I put him in the middle.
Imagine a circle or a wheel with a hub and spokes. Now put God in the center hub. Each of the spokes represents an area or activity of life. It might be work, family, church, friends, interaction with your kids or spouse, mowing the lawn, or taking a nap.
Whatever it is, now imagine doing it for God."
(page 211)
i need pictures in my head to go along with my thoughts sometimes. they help me quickly remember whatever it is i want to remember. the "hub" is helping me remember God's place in my life in a way that JOY (Jesus first, Others second, Yourself last) never did.
i think i need to re-think my next tattoo. . .
1. it has got me re-thinking how i think about prioritizing my life
2. it might encourage you to read the book
In chapter twenty-one entitled "Priority Number One? Why Putting God First Might Be a Bad Idea," the author makes a rather startling confession. . .
"After years of muddling along trying to make God my first priority but never being quite sure what it meant, I finally gave up.
I stopped putting God first.
I put him in the middle.
Imagine a circle or a wheel with a hub and spokes. Now put God in the center hub. Each of the spokes represents an area or activity of life. It might be work, family, church, friends, interaction with your kids or spouse, mowing the lawn, or taking a nap.
Whatever it is, now imagine doing it for God."
(page 211)
i need pictures in my head to go along with my thoughts sometimes. they help me quickly remember whatever it is i want to remember. the "hub" is helping me remember God's place in my life in a way that JOY (Jesus first, Others second, Yourself last) never did.
i think i need to re-think my next tattoo. . .
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Turkey Bowling PSA from the Greens and Grains grocery store
the evils of turkey bowling. . . hmmm. . . who would have thought?
Monday, January 5, 2009
waiting for the cable guy
well, my days have been filled with technical support calls to a) the internet provider b) the manufacturer of the router and c) the manufacturer of my computer. . . literally, hours of frustration with and without a phone attached to my head. literally, hours and hours without a) the internet b) a functional router or c) amazing results from the newest software with amazing diagnostic powers. oh yeah, and just for fun, intermittent home phone service and cable tv.
after finally concluding that the majority of fault lay with the internet provider. . . there was nothing to do but wait for the cable guy.
i know. i know that this is not a big deal in the grand scope of reality these days. there is the economy, the war, the "other" wars and genocides running concurrently with our war, global warming freezing our nether-parts clean off while burying us under considerable amounts of snow, the economy, the biggest Ponzi scheme earth has ever seen, and well, the economy.
i get that. but what scared me is how dependent we are all becoming on technology. and how sophisticated technology is becoming. (ok, all you with Macs, i am beginning to see the light. . . and after the hours i logged trying to get my pc to talk nicely with the router and the router to talk nicely with the modem and the modem to talk nicely with the internet. . . i can justify the expense next time around. but in the meantime, i am living in pc world/hell.)
there are a couple of family members who are committed to keeping our grandmas' computers running smoothly - as well as writing out EASY user instructions for them. if we didn't do that on a regular basis, neither nana would have her forwarded emails OR she would be paying big bucks to the guys in the white, short-sleeved shirts and skinny ties to figure out why her printer is not printing or why the font in her email mysteriously changed size yesterday. both grandmas have learned that email is a good way to touch base with a grandchild - yes, texting would be preferred over email but hey, they are just getting the hang of email. . .
computers connect us to each other - and us to our banks - and our banks to our mortgage lenders - and so on and so on. computers connect us to a truth that sometimes our news media is not willing to tell. computers supply us with a steady stream of knowledge and junk based completely on our whims and the strength of our character. they are part of the American household now.
i remember reading an article on "the home of the future" completely "run" by a computer. i no longer find that intriguing or comforting. i find it down right scary. my home at the mercy of software and hardware compatibility issues and power surges, not to mention, human error. . . i don't think so.
yeah, about that. . . the cable guys, (yes, they sent two of them) were here for a long, long time today. . . diagnosing and then ripping out and installing cable to correct the somewhat haphazardly built maze of coaxial we had running through our walls . . .
but resolving the main issue of no internet involved showing me the engaged "stand by" button on the modem which temporarily shut off our internet but not our phones or cable tv. . .
hmmmm, human error. . . mine.
after finally concluding that the majority of fault lay with the internet provider. . . there was nothing to do but wait for the cable guy.
i know. i know that this is not a big deal in the grand scope of reality these days. there is the economy, the war, the "other" wars and genocides running concurrently with our war, global warming freezing our nether-parts clean off while burying us under considerable amounts of snow, the economy, the biggest Ponzi scheme earth has ever seen, and well, the economy.
i get that. but what scared me is how dependent we are all becoming on technology. and how sophisticated technology is becoming. (ok, all you with Macs, i am beginning to see the light. . . and after the hours i logged trying to get my pc to talk nicely with the router and the router to talk nicely with the modem and the modem to talk nicely with the internet. . . i can justify the expense next time around. but in the meantime, i am living in pc world/hell.)
there are a couple of family members who are committed to keeping our grandmas' computers running smoothly - as well as writing out EASY user instructions for them. if we didn't do that on a regular basis, neither nana would have her forwarded emails OR she would be paying big bucks to the guys in the white, short-sleeved shirts and skinny ties to figure out why her printer is not printing or why the font in her email mysteriously changed size yesterday. both grandmas have learned that email is a good way to touch base with a grandchild - yes, texting would be preferred over email but hey, they are just getting the hang of email. . .
computers connect us to each other - and us to our banks - and our banks to our mortgage lenders - and so on and so on. computers connect us to a truth that sometimes our news media is not willing to tell. computers supply us with a steady stream of knowledge and junk based completely on our whims and the strength of our character. they are part of the American household now.
i remember reading an article on "the home of the future" completely "run" by a computer. i no longer find that intriguing or comforting. i find it down right scary. my home at the mercy of software and hardware compatibility issues and power surges, not to mention, human error. . . i don't think so.
yeah, about that. . . the cable guys, (yes, they sent two of them) were here for a long, long time today. . . diagnosing and then ripping out and installing cable to correct the somewhat haphazardly built maze of coaxial we had running through our walls . . .
but resolving the main issue of no internet involved showing me the engaged "stand by" button on the modem which temporarily shut off our internet but not our phones or cable tv. . .
hmmmm, human error. . . mine.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
2009 and simplicity
i don't "do" new year resolutions - probably because i suck at at them. but i decided this year, 7 hours and 43 minutes into it, that "simplicity" is my word for the next 12 months.
i know that simplicity is going to involve paring down and uncluttering my life a bit - that probably means i am going to have to devote some time to the throwing out or giving away everything that i'm not using. although i have made a conscious effort over the last 5 years to consider the time i will spend maintaining - dusting, vacuuming, cleaning, polishing, whatever - the object of my latest desire BEFORE i plunk down my hard earned cash, i still have stuff that i don't need and i'm not using.
one place simplicity has kinda worked in the past is my wardrobe - and i use the term "wardrobe" loosely - my closet is a study in black - jackets, pants, and skirts. i have shirts that are different colors but i do have to admit to wearing black shirts with the black jackets and pants and skirts a lot - me and Johnny Cash - what can i say? i made that wardrobe choice when my kids were young and i went back to work part-time and then full-time. with a black wardrobe i didn't have to waste precious time contemplating what matched - it all did and does. (i do own a few pairs blue jeans but i pare them with black shirts and jackets, of course.) i wonder how much contemplating time i've saved over the years??
side road - i prefer color in my surroundings. a gallon of paint is the simplest, cheapest, easiest way to change the mood of a room. i cook in an ocean-blue and white kitchen, study and blog in an ocean-green and white office, and read or play the piano in a honey-mustard living room. i haven't painted the rest of the walls because my better half is part Norwegian. And that "part" is committed to white food (no joke - fish, potatoes, bread, kumla=dumplings, kringla=sugar cookies without the sugar) and white walls. i count this "color deferment" as part of my wifely submission duties - i'm not sure God does, or Dave for that matter. but i'm hoping to win them both over with my sincerety. :)
back to simplicity. . .
a friend gave me a very cool bulletin-board thing - it sits on my desk. right now i can look over and read the name of a woman i have never met. she is a friend of a friend. her name on that scrap of paper represents all the women who don't fit in easily at church or women's ministry. she represents the kind of women that Shattered Stained Glass is hoping to reach. seeing her name daily has served to remind me - push me - challenge me to do my best for her.
it can be a powerful thing. . . one printed word.
so this morning i added another piece of paper with the word "simplicity" - another reminder, another push, another challenge. no goal here, really. . . just fine-tuning a mindset.
simplicity - a call to major on the majors and minor on the minors. . . less drama, less stress, less stuff.
a good read and resource on simplicity. . . Sarah Ban Breathnach's Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy, The Simple Abundance Companion, and Simple Abundance Journal of Gratitude
i know that simplicity is going to involve paring down and uncluttering my life a bit - that probably means i am going to have to devote some time to the throwing out or giving away everything that i'm not using. although i have made a conscious effort over the last 5 years to consider the time i will spend maintaining - dusting, vacuuming, cleaning, polishing, whatever - the object of my latest desire BEFORE i plunk down my hard earned cash, i still have stuff that i don't need and i'm not using.
one place simplicity has kinda worked in the past is my wardrobe - and i use the term "wardrobe" loosely - my closet is a study in black - jackets, pants, and skirts. i have shirts that are different colors but i do have to admit to wearing black shirts with the black jackets and pants and skirts a lot - me and Johnny Cash - what can i say? i made that wardrobe choice when my kids were young and i went back to work part-time and then full-time. with a black wardrobe i didn't have to waste precious time contemplating what matched - it all did and does. (i do own a few pairs blue jeans but i pare them with black shirts and jackets, of course.) i wonder how much contemplating time i've saved over the years??
side road - i prefer color in my surroundings. a gallon of paint is the simplest, cheapest, easiest way to change the mood of a room. i cook in an ocean-blue and white kitchen, study and blog in an ocean-green and white office, and read or play the piano in a honey-mustard living room. i haven't painted the rest of the walls because my better half is part Norwegian. And that "part" is committed to white food (no joke - fish, potatoes, bread, kumla=dumplings, kringla=sugar cookies without the sugar) and white walls. i count this "color deferment" as part of my wifely submission duties - i'm not sure God does, or Dave for that matter. but i'm hoping to win them both over with my sincerety. :)
back to simplicity. . .
a friend gave me a very cool bulletin-board thing - it sits on my desk. right now i can look over and read the name of a woman i have never met. she is a friend of a friend. her name on that scrap of paper represents all the women who don't fit in easily at church or women's ministry. she represents the kind of women that Shattered Stained Glass is hoping to reach. seeing her name daily has served to remind me - push me - challenge me to do my best for her.
it can be a powerful thing. . . one printed word.
so this morning i added another piece of paper with the word "simplicity" - another reminder, another push, another challenge. no goal here, really. . . just fine-tuning a mindset.
simplicity - a call to major on the majors and minor on the minors. . . less drama, less stress, less stuff.
a good read and resource on simplicity. . . Sarah Ban Breathnach's Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy, The Simple Abundance Companion, and Simple Abundance Journal of Gratitude
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