"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.

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?

"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!!!!!

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 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!

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. . .

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. . .

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. . .

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.

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. . .

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?

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.

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!?!

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. . .