Great Days

2012-01-02T16:23:00.000-08:00

I wrote this in October...so I'm a little behind the times. I was blessed to be able to travel to Austria, Germany, Holland, Scotland, and England. What an awesome time! Pictures...well...pictures are still on my camera...

In the Footsteps of the Dead

I've seen a lot of tombs, statues, and memorials over the past two weeks. In fact, I've been to five countries in that span of time primarily for that purpose. I've seen homes where famous people lived and died, rocks marking the place where they were burned or beheaded, and cathedrals where their final resting places are marked with an elaborate sculpture or a simple plaque.

Some of these people were truly great; others primarily notorious. Some died for their faith, unwilling to comprise what they believed to be true even if it cost their lives. Others died because they had the misfortune to have given birth to a daughter instead of a son. Some, like Luther, live on in churches, museums, and gift shops. Others--like Huss are memorialized with a simple stone in a now quiet residential street in an otherwise unremarkable side of town.

As I visited the tall narrow residence of George Fredrick Handel, the room where he wrote is famos work "Messiah" contained a few quotes from admirers and critics alike. Apparently, while some considered him a hard-working genius, others knew him as a conceited pig.

And the Wesley house and church has grown into a sort of shrine to Methodism. A church that the Wesley brothers--a few hundred years later -- would probably not recognize.

The simplicity of the house where Corrie ten Boom gave refuge to Jews in "the Hiding Place" seemed to be the perfect setting for the sincerity of her faith and the sacrifice of her freedom. But unlike the stone cathedrals and marble memorials, it wasn't particularly designed to span the ages. Eventually, the decorwill fade. The creaky floors will give way. The hiding place will be recycled into something far less noble.

And so it was that all of the lives behind the memorials--whether rich or poor, beautiful or ugly, noble or notorious--are all over. Because every living thing dies.

Except one.

The last two weeks have been filled with international and historical experiences of every kind; but the thread that held it all together was the Reformation--Huss, Calvin, Luther, Zwingli, Cranmer, and Wesleys. A movement that did not change the Catholic church but that did change the world. It wasn't about the Pope, the priests, or even the indulgences. It was the unleashing of the Scriptures. The most powerful force in history. The only living that will never die.

On our final night in London, we listed to a lecture on the Bible at the Westminster Abbey by a popular local author and speaker. The thrust of his talk was this--for some unexplainable reason, the Bible has shaped--at least--the English speaking world. It was the foundation for law, the motivation behind the abolition of slavery and the inspiration behind democracy. It was a cornerstond of science and literature--even literacy itself.

His implied conclusion was that it would be a shame for it to be forgotten completely in this modern age. Like it or not, we owe it something.

Perhaps he thought that the Bible needed his help. Perhaps he thought that by giving a speech in a world-famous, ornate abbey, hundreds of years old and surrounded by the impressive presence of the stone statues of great men that he was authenticating a questionable document...That he was pointing out a redemption value of an antiquated novelty.

But I have news for him. Scripture owes him nothing. He is dying. Scripture is not. He will one day be forgotten. But the Word of God will never be. It is far more than the Book of Books. It is the way to God. And it shows us His character in a way unequaled by any cathedral, any song, and even nature itself.

While churches and cemetaries call hallmark history by marking the bones and ashes of the dead, the Scripture will take us not to the grave of a dead man, but to the throne of grace because of the One who conquered death. There is no resting place on earth for a dead Savior.

Ignorant people can deny its authority. Experts of every stripe can explain it away, but the blood of the maryrs has fanned a flame lit by Christ himself and documented in a book preserved by God himself in the greatest book of all time. Heaven and earth will pass away, the Word of God will last forever.

2011-08-01T17:52:00.000-07:00

Baby Shower Games

So...a friend of mine just asked me to come up with a good baby shower game. I tell you what, when it comes to baby shower games, there is truly nothing new under the sun. I think I went to my first baby shower when I was seven, and here we are, 23 years later, still playing the same games.

Can I get a witness? I mean, seriously, how many of you have correctly guessed the number of m&ms are in the jar? If you're like me, never. But it isn't for lack of trying. Again. And again. And which of you have not sniffed candybars melted into diapers trying to figure out what kind they are? I can't believe we ruin perfectly good candy bars on that one (you can, of course, still use the diapers). And how many times have you lost a clothes pin because you crossed your legs or said "mother?" Hmmm...how many of you just went ahead and gave your clothes pins away at the beginning of the party?

And if you google "baby shower games" you will find no help. I promise. You will find the same twelve games we've been playing since m&ms were invented. In fact, look up "creative baby shower games." You will find the same twelve games. "New baby shower ideas." The same twelve games. "Unique baby shower games." The same twelve games. In fact, go to babyshowergamesnohumanhaseverplayed.com and you may not be surprised to find...nothing at all.

So, when my friend asked me to come up with a baby shower game, I googled baby shower games and behold, I found ... m&m's, clothes pins, candy bars...and baby bingo...Now there's a thought...I haven't played that one in at least...two showers. Or using crepe paper to guess how big the mother's belly is. (Not recommended when the shower is after the birth...or for that matter...before). I could get rice and have blindfolded people try to find objects in the rice. Or we could try pinning diapers onto dolls. Yep, just like I told you, Danielle. The SAME TWELVE GAMES.

So now I understand why we have played the same games over and over. My hat is off to you ladies who who have been planning baby showers all these years.

Okay, I confess, there were a few I found that I haven't seen done at any of our church baby showers...such as chugging beer out of baby bottles; or having a binkie spitting contest. Okay, I don't exactly remember ever bowling for baby bottles either. But I didn't find anything helpful, if you know what I mean.

But I have exactly one week to do what the whole of American society has failed to do in at least the last 23 years and, I suspect, a good bit longer and that is--come up with a THIRTEENTH baby shower game to make it a baker's dozen for the rest of womankind on our corner of the planet.

There are some who fought in wars for our country. There are some who give their lives to uphold justice. There are some who will always be remembered for their unique contributions to art, music, and science. But right now, I'd be grateful for the contribution of one...just one...brave woman who breaks all the chains of tradition and comes up with a NEW baby shower game. Maybe it will just have to be me.

2011-08-01T16:36:00.000-07:00

Thoughts from Proverbs 31
...and wishing a very Happy Birthday to my dear friends turning 31...
As I was thinking about Proverbs 31 and reading the familiar chapter, I tried in vain to learn the exact context of this passage. Notwithstanding Wikipedia, there is some debate as to whether the “Lemuel” referred to in the first verse of Proverbs 31 is king Solomon or some other king not mentioned significantly in Scripture.
The first nine verses of the chapter are an exhortation from a mother to her royalty son…She exhorts him not to give his strength to women or others things that destroy kings. Then she tells him it is not for kings to drink strong drink—lest they forget the law and pervert judgment of the afflicted.
So, was it Bathsheba giving advice to her son Solomon, knowing one day he would be king of God’s chosen people and encouraging him to build habits that would make him great? I guess we don’t know for sure.
What we do know is that if it was, it didn’t work. In fact, after a thousand attempts, Solomon had not found the woman his mother describes in verses 10-31—the one who would have been worthy to wear the title “queen” and to help him rule a nation.

What we do know is that the women Solomon did find turned his heart away from the Lord his God and encouraged him to follow other gods. Solomon’s failures hastened the demise of the entire nation of Israel who, in turn, also followed strange gods.

Regardless, the Proverbs 31 woman has stayed with us, a nameless description of a wife and mother of noble character. Anyone who has spent any significant amount of time in church has probably heard countless messages and Bible studies on the Proverbs 31 woman and rightfully so. There is a lifetime’s worth of practical goals packed into those 21 verses.
But today I’d like to just talk about one. The second half of verse twenty five. I’ve seen it interpreted as “she smiles at the future,” “she shall rejoice in time to come,” and even “she laughs at the time to come.”
I thought this was fitting for a birthday party, because birthdays—like it or not—remind us that time is going by. We are getting older. The future is slowly slipping into the past moment by moment. That’s why some of us hate birthdays. While others just wish we could have the “party” part without the “growing older” part.

When I went to get my hair done a few weeks ago, I glanced through some of the health and beauty magazines lying on the table. Pages and pages of instructions on looking young, staying young, reversing aging. Product after product to erase lines, erase age spots, speed up your metabolism, thicken your hair, and who knows what all else. The fact of the matter is that we equate youth with beauty. And we, as a society, waste a lot of time and money trying to find the fountain of youth.

So…the Proverbs 31 woman smiled, even laughed at the future…why exactly was that? She would get older like the rest of us. She would get varicose veins, aches and pains, her vision would go, and maybe she would need false teeth. Yuck. So why look forward to the future? She was already married. She already had children, and in time they would grow up to leave her. They would make decisions of their own, and perhaps not even the best of decisions. The world around her would change. Kingdoms would fall. Her husband might lose his throne (his job) or even his life.

So, now that I have painted this dismal picture, I will ask one more time…what in the world was she laughing about?

I have been chewing on this verse all week, and I hope you’ll permit me to share some of the thoughts I have on this with you

Contentment
The first thought I had is this…regardless of the future, of time, of aging, some things will never change. In one of my favorite passages, the writer of Hebrews says, “Let your conversation (character) be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. So that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me.”

The writer makes a progression here…be content with what you have, because after all, Jesus has promised never to leave us or forsake us. Clearly, contentment leads to security. Security: that is the stuff that can smile at the future knowing that with the Lord as our helper—we have no need to fear what man will do to us.

Contentment…it’s easier said than practiced. It seems to have evaded most of the actors in Hollywood, the singers in Nashville, and the politicians in Washington. Riches, fame, and power cannot seem to produce happy people or healthy families.

But contentment is a well-rewarded virtue. It leads to happiness, security, and beauty faster than any other quality. And perhaps it grows and spreads best when radiated from the life of a woman who can smile at the future. There is no beauty like contentment.

Some things are guaranteed to change. And time will gradually rob us of some of the features that this world mistakes for beauty—No matter many surgeries you have or what products you use. But time is powerless against your contentment and your security because we are guaranteed our Savior for all eternity.
Leave the Scars

But there is more than just the gradual aging process that I dislike about looking forward. It is knowing that life includes a lot of scars…cuts, bumps, and broken bones…things that may never heal completely. Lives can be jerked to pieces in a matter of moments. And so can relationships, families, and finances.

For years, I have heard friends and church leaders take comfort in Romans 8:28, “For we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”
But the most striking testimony I ever heard of this passage was given by a young Christian missionary to Australia. His wife had recently died from cancer, leaving him to father four young children. He read that verse, but he didn’t stop there. He read the next verse, “For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brethren.”
He talked about how in difficult times, we all tend to ask “why” and feel like we receive no answer. But the answer is in our Bible. All things work together for good to them that love God. For those who are committed to His purpose. And what is His purpose? It is to conform us to the image of His son. The fact of the matter is, we tend not to value the idea of being like Christ. We value our own comfort and happiness.

He loves us, so He allows wounds in our life. In fact, He himself “chastens” us and “scourges” us. In today’s English, He spanks us. But it goes further than that. In Bible times, when someone was scourged, they were often whipped with ropes with iron pieces tied to the ends. The scourging not only hurt, it wounded. It took pieces out of the offender.

And God tells us He chastens us because He loves us. He loves us too much to leave us the way we are. In our proud, selfish states—thinking the world revolves around us, trying to change circumstances and people, and getting frustrated when things don’t go according to our plan. Naturally, that is me. And how God must just hate that.

So God, in his love, spanks us. And in the process, we find out how much we love Him. Do we become bitter, resentful, and angry? Or do we welcome the unexpected changes knowing that He is about His purpose of making us like His Son?

As I thought about this during the week, I listened over and over again to a song that says it so eloquently—
I used to wish that I could rewrite history
I used to dream that each mistake could be erased
Then I could just pretend
I never knew the me back then

I used to pray that You would take this shame away
Hide all the evidence of who I've been
But it's the memory of
The place You brought me from
That keeps me on my knees
And even though I'm free

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar
I have not lived a life that boasts of anything
I don't take pride in what I bring
But I'll build an altar with
The rubble that You've found me in
And every stone will sing
Of what You can redeem

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar

Don't let me forget
Everything You've done for me
Don't let me forget
The beauty in the suffering

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar.

[Point of Grace]
Best is yet to come

Lastly, while we know God wounds us because he loves us, we also know that He rewards those who love Him. “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things that God has prepared for those who love Him.”
So, we can smile at the future, because, quite frankly, the best is yet to come! Right now we see as if through a mirror dimly, but then we will see God face to face. Now we know Him partially, but then we shall know Him the way He knows us: intimately, personally, completely.

Yes, the best is yet to come. We can’t fully imagine heaven, but we can be confident that God is preparing a place for us. And at last, life will be perfect!
I hope that it doesn’t seem morbid that I would allude to heaven at a birthday party. Okay, maybe it is a bit unusual. But when Christ took the stinger out of death, He also took the stinger out of birthdays, even for women. At least for Proverbs 31 women.
After all, younger does not mean more beautiful. So I challenge each of you – Be content. Keep your scars. And just imagine heaven because the best is yet to come!

2011-06-15T16:16:00.000-07:00

In Search of the Perfect Candidate

I have read many articles lamenting the lack of good presidential candidates. TV commentators have been shaking their heads in disgust. Magazine covers mock the various contenders. According to the media, the Republican Party just cannot seem to produce a decent candidate. Someone of integrity, leadership, and vision.

To be the perfect candidate…

You must be bursting with charisma and energy although catching only two hours of sleep a night in a rolling bus. To look like a million bucks while not spending $500,000 on your one-day-only designer clothes wardrobe. To eat at fundraiser dinners and exclusive receptions yet stay healthy and in good shape. To be attractive without being either ditsy or vain. To be confident and command respect without talking about yourself too much or coming across conceited and condescending. To know everything that is going on in the world; yet not forget what life is like for the soccer mom and Joe, the plumber.

You must have a fool-proof plan to fix a broken economy without raising taxes or cutting benefits. (A magic eraser for the national debt would be great.) You must know how to create jobs without feeding corporate greed. You must have a head for business—and a heart for old people and puppy dogs.
You must be able to give interesting speeches on topics that most Americans don’t care a thing about; or even understand. To be right, all of the time. To have a clear message without being repetitive. To have experience (without any unhealthy political ties) and a voting record that shuts the mouth of even Rachel Maddow. To not be divisive, but not be a "flip flop." And you must make the other candidates look like idiots without slinging mud.

You must be able to deal with immigration without hurting anyone’s feelings. To support our military while making the world a place where a military is not needed. You must know the capital of every country in the world (and how to spell “tomato.”) To work around the clock and not burn out; to always come up smiling.

You must have the charm of John Edwards (but not the other stuff), the grace of the Apostle Paul, the looks of Sarah Palin (…but please, NOT HER). You must have the ingenuity of Bill Gates, the wit of Yogi Berra, the work ethic of Thomas Edison, the loyalty of Davey Crockett, the honesty of Abraham Lincoln, the wisdom of Solomon, and the experience of George Washington (after his two terms in office)…Oh, and not be a white male.

You must have a fresh message and you must give us HOPE. The other four hundred and some politicians in Washington are just making a mess, and we are counting on YOU to straighten it out.

In four years.

And somehow, in all your wonderfulness, you must find a way to stand out from all the other candidates. To convince Americans to support your campaign who think they are patriotic when they buy fireworks on the Fourth of July.

You must be willing to live without an inch of privacy, to have every rock in your life kicked over. To take the blame for everything that goes wrong in the world for the next four years and to be constantly reminded that you don’t deserve the credit for anything that goes right. To be criticized for hour after hour on talk radio and television by smart people who have the luxury of having a whole staff at their disposal to search for inaccuracies in your statements and smart responses to your dumber moments. To be reminded—for the rest of your life—of mistakes that you made. Or mistakes anyone close to you made. To be told what to do by the experts in every discipline. Basically, everyone.

All things considered, the job doesn’t pay very well.

But, we promise….
If you won't scold and dominate us
We will never give you cause to hate us
We won't hide your spectacles
So you can't see
Put toads in your bed
Or pepper in your tea
Hurry, Nanny!
Many thanks
Sincerely,
Jane and Michael Banks

Maybe, just maybe, she will come flying in.

2011-03-31T16:48:00.000-07:00

Never Swim Alone

I’m quite sure that the four people that are long suffering enough to follow this blog are simply dying to know how my escapades at the gym are progressing. Did I stick with the spin class? Will they see me in the Olympics for racquetball in the near future? Was I ever able to do more than four minutes of swimming without a need for a respirator?

The answer to the first two questions is no and not hardly. But (drum roll), I am pleased to inform you that I have stayed with swimming for about nine months now. Not every day, but often enough that I have managed to become one of the morning “regulars” in the pool.

There are a good group of “regulars” at the pool. In fact, the big lie I was told when I joined this gym is that it isn’t difficult to get a lane if you come before 7:00. Fortunately, the “regulars” look out for each other and we try to make it work.

Let me introduce you to a few of my new swimming friends:

Five O’Clock Rock

He earned that name by being at the pool every single morning of his life at 5:00. Rain, sleet, snow, or hurricane, at 5:00 he will be in the pool. He will swim for an hour. Exactly. Then he will grab his stuff and head for one of the shower/changing rooms off to the side. Thirty minutes later, he will emerge wearing a white shirt, black shorts and flip flops. Rain, sleet, snow, or hurricane, he will be wearing that white tee shirt and a pair of short shorts. The only variation is that if it’s below freezing, he will add a little black jacket to his attire.

What I want to know is not how he manages to live his life in such perfect order. What I want to know is what in the world a man does in the bathroom for 30 minutes when he is bald as a door knob and he only comes out in shorts and flip flops. Must be that he joined the gym because his hot water heater at home couldn’t support a full thirty minutes.

Monk in Trunks

This gentleman isn’t quite so regular as Five O’Clock Rock. He probably doesn’t have time because he is busy traveling the world. If you google “Buddhist monk” you will see his picture. Yep, that’s him. Only, in the picture you see, he will probably be wearing an orange drape. I would prefer to see him in the orange drape.

The Man in the Yellow Shorts

If you’ve ever wondered if The Man in the Yellow Hat ever takes his hat off, the answer is yes. But when he does, he puts his long, lean body in a pair of yellow shorts. He is a very good swimmer. He is also a very nice man. He invited me to church with him. I refrained from asking if George would be coming along although I was curious.

Synchronized Swimmers

Also known as the “swimming supermen”…these men always swim in tandem. They come with all kinds of gear like I never knew existed for swimming. Fins and gloves and weights and things I don’t even know how to describe. They bring a typed up list of everything they’re going to do and they do it. They swim together the whole time, same strokes, same speeds, same gear. I think Pete and Re-Pete taught Michael Phelps how to swim. Or maybe they are still teaching him…They are good.

The Treasure Seeker

He wears a full snorkel and fins and he goes back and forth inspecting the bottom of the pool. Either someone told him the gym was built on top of an ancient Indian burial ground and he is looking for artifacts, or else he lost something once upon a time and he is still trying to find it.

Underwater Zoo

So far all of my subjects have been men…now is time to rat on the women. They get together for water aerobics every morning. Picture seven women over seventy in swim suits. Enough said.

And then there’s me

So…now that I’ve poked fun at my swimming friends, it is only fair play to wonder what they would say about me if they were writing this. Perhaps they would call me “turtle.” There is a reason why they call the stroke I do the “crawl.” If I were any slower, I’d just sink to the bottom. I can swim a long time, but I am slower than molasses.

Or maybe they would poke fun at me for the way I leave a trail of stuff behind me. It seems like I’m always trying to get out of there dragging wet stuff, dry stuff, hangars, clothes, flip flops…it isn’t easy to figure out everything you’re going to need for a work day and pack it before your brain has finished booting in the morning. And it’s even more difficult to get it all out with you when you leave. Forget renting a locker, I need to rent a whole room. I wonder how many bottles of shampoo, hair bands, flip flops, and goggles I have donated to Goodwill via the lost and found. I at least want a tax receipt.

Or maybe they’d call me “White Eyes.” You see, the really cool swimmers have the mirrored, fogless goggles. I am not one of the really cool swimmers. I had a pair of expensive goggles, and I lost them. But I can keep track of cheap goggles just fine. The downside is that I am always looking at the black stripe at the bottom of the pool through a white haze. They say that you spit in your goggles to keep them from fogging. I have tried that. And frankly, I found out why “spit in the eye” is a derogatory phrase. It doesn’t feel very nice.

Apparently, however, despite the haze, I can see something, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this blog. And fortunately, I can hear well enough that I can look in the general direction of whomever may be speaking to me; I just nod and smile. Besides, it’s all part of the disguise. I wouldn’t want anyone to actually know who I was or I wouldn’t be able to post this.

I guess if I get to the pool in the morning and one of the other swimmers calls me White Eyes, then I’ll know my disguise has been found out. And I will look their general direction through my white haze and just nod and smile. And maybe, just maybe, that would mean that there are more than four people who are reading my blog.

2010-11-21T04:22:00.000-08:00

Things I learned from Mom

Mom—the older I get, the more incredible you become. In fact, in just a couple of years, you’re going to be perfect, so I had better write this now so I don’t make all of the other moms out there jealous.

I remember several times growing up having ladies look at me and tell me how fortunate I was to have the mom I had. I wasn’t always convinced that they knew what they were talking about. After all, some of the other kids’ mom’s drove cool new minivans (yep, I thought they were cool!), bought potato chips and Twinkies at the grocery store, and let their kids have Barbies.

I had no idea just how difficult it must have been to be the teacher and the mom…and often the Sunday School teacher…the AWANA leader…the coach…the referee…the cook…the maid…the chauffer…the piano teacher…the drill sergeant…the manager...and the friend. You made keeping up with five kids look easy.

SERVING

Everywhere we went and every time you had the opportunity, you and Dad served others. We served at church. Served in our home school group. Served in our neighborhood. And when holidays came and others had time off, you invited people over who had no place to go. You and Dad were givers and I know that we will never know the thousands of hours or the thousands of dollars that you invested in others.

Many of those people will never appreciate your sacrifices. But I know at least five who do. And a day doesn’t go by that the seeds that you sowed doesn’t continue to bear fruit in my life. Even though we live far apart now, you still motivate me to serve and to give.

HARD WORK

Mom, you taught us to work hard. That’s a lesson you probably thought I would never learn. I was the one who was always skipping math problems, complaining about writing spelling words, and disappearing when it was chore time. Remember when you used to take us to the junior high school to run track? I hated that. I would do about anything to get out of having to run.

But somewhere the value of hard work must have started to sink in for me. And even though we tease you about the times that you went to sleep at the dining room table, we know that in reality, you are an incredibly hard worker. In fact, you probably went to sleep at the table because of the sheer exhaustion of the late nights, early mornings, and constant pressures of being wife, mom, and teacher. I know sometimes you got up at 3:00 in the morning to do your devotions without being interrupted.

If you ever wonder why your kids take on impossible projects, get themselves into tough situations, and attempt to get more done in a day than is legal to do, then you just need to head for the nearest bathroom and look in the mirror. We can’t help it. We are victims.

RESPECT

You also taught us to be respectful to others, particularly our elders. You talk about a zero tolerance policy. The first verse you taught us was “obey them that that the rule over you.” And the ones that had the “rule” over us taught us many things at the crack of the ruler. I remember the last time you spanked me. It was for talking back to you. I remember being hit 16 times, but I was determined not to cry and I didn’t. You were trying to teach me to be respectful and I was wondering how soon I could move out of the house and how far away I could get when I did.

But even though that particular spanking didn’t seem effective at the time, you taught us through your consistent lifestyle how to have self control. You were respectful to everyone—the teller at the bank, the driver in front of you, and even the customer service representatives at Wal-Mart. That was your way—and I had no idea at the time just how difficult that is.

TRUE BEAUTY

I looked at the picture of you and Dad at Paul and Shannon’s wedding and I thought to myself, “Wow, she’s beautiful!” But you were never about external stuff…make up and jewelry and designer jeans. You taught us about modesty and that true beauty came from a meek and gentle spirit.

LIVING FRUGALLY

By your example, all of the Walker kids learned about living frugally. If any of your kids resort to living on welfare or credit cards, I’ll be surprised. You taught us to work for what we got and then to live on less.

I don’t have memories of fancy cars, expensive vacations, and eating out. In fact, some of my clearest memories as a kid involve waiting for a tow truck on the side of the road, filing up the car radiator with cups of water we took from the bathroom sink at Ross, and walking home from PIP on the hottest days of July because the drive shaft fell out of the van we bought for $800. Of course, there is the all time favorite…all seven of us in the backseat of a Honda Civic for an hour and a half.

And vacations…yep…those memories are even better…like the night we spent freezing to death in the Nastase’s pick up truck when our camping trip got interrupted with a combination of rain and snow. Or the drive down from northern California where we all took turns throwing up in the back of the van.

But not only did you raise us to live within our means, we really didn’t miss out on anything but headphones and personal DVD players. We enjoyed many happy hours in the van, singing, listening to tapes, and sometimes playing games. And when we stopped at Wendy’s at got a $.99 burger—what a treat!

WISDOM

You taught us discretion by example. Marrying Dad for instance. That was a good idea. Where did you get him and are there any more?

You taught us to think through things and look beyond the surface to the true message of a movie, book, or song. You taught us to just say “no” to things that seemed questionable.

…THE EXCEPTIONS…

Okay, so there are some things you weren’t particularly good at. Like cooking bacon, for example… Or making money (do the words “Grandma’s Garden” mean anything to you?)…or turning down your daughter’s idea to make plastic canvas manger scenes for all the relatives at Christmas. One time you even accidently bought honey nut cheerios instead of plain. But considering the number of things you’ve forgiven me (including the manger scene fiasco), it’s probably time we forgot about those things. Oh, and you are an incredible cook (bacon notwithstanding).

GENUINE LOVE

Someday, when we have time, there are a few questions I would like to ask you…like how in the world you got stuck walking Princess at 5:00 every morning when it was really your five kids who wanted a dog? And how in the world you convinced that mongrel who followed Paul home from Charlie’s to run away? But for now, there is one more thing I want to cover…

Mom, you have been a tremendous example of genuine agape love. Perhaps that sums up everything else. You continued to give, to serve, and to love even when it seemed like there would never be a return on your investment. I will never forget the years that Grandma lived with us and the added pressure that put on you. But you just kept on giving. I know there were many other times when you wanted to quit home school, church ministries, AWANA, or other things, but you held on because it was the right thing to do. You stay teachable and willing to listen to the Lord and quick to examine yourself so that you can truly put others first.

I guess we won’t ever be able to say that we have arrived on this quality. The rest of our lives we will be working toward true selfless living. But I believe that you got us started on a path that strives to put others first and continues to move forward, to grow, and to learn…especially when the going got tough.

Someday, if I have kids, I hope to pass on the things that I learned from you by my example. And if I don’t—I still hope that I live in such a way as to pass on the things I learned from you to others. I guess, in some ways, I won’t be able to help it—I am more like you than I am like anyone else on earth.

Mom, I love you. I just wanted you to know.

2010-07-17T09:53:00.000-07:00

The Gym and I

If you've ever considered joining a gym, you've probably been told the same lies I was told...you're going to look better, feel better, have more energy, make new friends, and be healthier...you're just going to love coming here.

When I first moved to Charleston, I finally set aside my aversion to monthly payments, and I tried out several gyms before settling on Ladies Choice Fitness. As the name suggests, it was a ladies only gym. That is probably why it went out of business. There was nothing interesting there. I mean nothing interesting to do there (just treadmills and Judge Judy). I did, however, go faithfully for the two years I was a member. I do not remember looking better, feeling better, or having more energy, and I didn't get to know one single person over the course of the two years. The employees changed like the wind and very few of the members came to sit around and chat. That is, except the Mary Kay lady. She has cost me more money than the whole membership.

I did nothing for two years after severing ties with Ladies Choice. That is, my plan was to get excercise by mowing the lawn and doing other profitable activities. I tried out several gyms, though, and finally after one high-pressure sales talk, I found myself joining Select Fitness. I went there consistently for one year before Steffanie talked me into doing P90X with her in February. But Steffanie recently got married and took P90X with her, so I have found myself debating once again what I'm going to do to look good, feel good, have more energy, make new friends, and be healthier. This is where the story really begins.

By now, I had a pretty good idea of what gyms are in the area and what they offer and what they cost. I made up my mind fairly quickly to start going to St. Andrews. They don't have very impressive cardio machines, weights, or technology, but they have a pool, racquetball courts, and tae kwon do classes that all sounded interesting. I am a fan of variety and I was looking forward to trying some new things.

Last Tuesday night, I went by on my way home and they offered me a free week, so I thought I would do that to get started. I arrived early Thursday morning prepared to swim laps. The pool was already loaded with dedicated swimmers quitely gliding from one end of the pool to the other. Some of them you could only see a small snorkel sticking up above the water, and a few you couldn't see at all.

I hoped I snuck in under the radar while they were all preoccupied. I'm not a very good swimmer. In fact, I don't know if you would even call what I do "swimming." But I splashed my way to the end of the pool and back. And there and back. And I was pooped.

I looked at the clock. It had been about four minutes.

Fortunately, one of the super-good swimmers took that opportunity to swim on his back one lap and that saved me. I did some swimming on my back to break up the work out.

Well, that, and the ladies aqua aerobics class.

Little did I know that at 6:00 on Thursdays, about a dozen ladies ages 60 and up don swimsuits and do kicking and stretching in the pool right next to the lane I was in. It was so entertaining that the next 20 minutes passed quickly.

But when I got to work at 7:30 am, I was exhausted. Seriously, I was trying to prop my eyes open the whole day. I was slapping myself, eating chocolate, and playing music and I could just hardly stay awake until 5:00. In fact, I had a headache and generally felt terrible. So much for the "feel better" and "have more energy" lies. I could have gone to sleep on the asphalt in the parking lot. Maybe they put some kind of drugs in the pool.

I still felt so awful on Friday morning that I didn't go back to the gym until Saturday. They had a 9:00 am "spin" class. For those of you that don't know, that's what we cool people call riding a bike.

Again, trying to be inconspicious because I had no idea if I would be able to keep up or not, I picked a bike all of the way in the back of the room. There was a pretty good room full of people for 9:00 am on a Saturday, so I figured I would pretty much go unnoticed.

The instructor played a video of lovely scenery while giving us instructions. We climbed hills, did sprints, and just enjoyed the Peurto Rico roadways in between. As I was enjoying the class, I noticed that pretty much everyone else had brough water and a towel with them. Well, that was okay, it was only an hour.

But the more we sprinted and climbed, the hotter it got in that room. Even with fans blowing, I could tell I was starting to get light headed. Would this class never end? I kept looking at my watch. Ten minutes. Five minutes. Two minutes. Zero minutes. It should have been over, but there she was, still up there smiling and giving instructions oblivious to my agony.

Finally, she instructed us to get off our bikes to do some final stretches. I got off my bike, but the world just kept spinning. I tried to stretch, but Puerto Rico was starting to go black. I knew I needed to sit down or I was going to end up on the floor some less desirable way. Good thing I was in the back. I sat down and leaned against the wall. The class was basically over and surely no one would notice me.

Wrong. People were on me like flies on honey. Was I okay? Did they need to call an ambulance? Did I want the rest of their water? Did I need to call someone? Had I already purchased my burial plot?

Good grief. I stood up so that people could see that I actually wasn't dying, just a little faint, and about four of them escorted me to a bench outside. It was much, much cooler, so I felt a little better and I tried very hard to act like I was fine so that they would all go away and leave me alone. No such luck. Cups of water. Juice. I tried to put it all in my system and it was not a good thing. I was going to throw up.

"I need to go to the bathroom." I said, and I made a charge for the ladies locker room. At least I could throw up in the privacy of a stall. But it wasn't over. The lady in the stall next to me took it upon herself to run to the manager. The next thing I knew I had the manager, class teacher, and a few other people all pinging me at once. "I'm fine." I kept saying.

"We're going to call someone to pick you up." They told me. "Who can we call?" Frankly, I couldn't think of anyone who would want to drive to the gym on a Saturday morning and get me when I was fine and had a perfectly good truck sitting out front.

Then they told me they had to fill out an incident report. Good grief. I hadn't even joined the gym yet and they already have a bad girl file on me. Yeah, so much for the feel better, have more energy thing. That's strike two.

Monday morning, I went to swim again before work. The only lane open was smack in the middle of all the super-good swimmers. Twenty minutes seemed like an eternity, and I kept getting water in my contacts which made it so I couldn't see where I was going. Thank God for the floating ropes that I kept bumping into.

I didn't have the same level of diverson, so I felt incredibly self conscious swimming along side of people who looked an acted like they had been doing this their whole lives. I have to swim with my head up, because if I put my face in the water like everyone else does, I end up with a coughing fit, and I really don't want another incident to add to my record. Here I am, 28, and all I know how to do is doggy paddle. That's worse than not being able to drive a stick shift. I have stopped laughing at the ladies doing aerobics in the shallow end of the pool.

Then I had an idea, all of these people had skull caps and goggles. They may not make a better swimmer out of me (especially since I can't put my head under water without holding my nose), but they do make for a fairly effective disguise. By the time I put my hair in a black latex cap and put on a thick pair of goggles, who really cares how I swim.

Well, let's just say that it's a good thing I never believed the lies about looking better, feeling better, and having more energy. So far, this gym has had me looking foolish and feeling terrible. I will say, though, that the people have all been nice; especially when I want to be inconspicuous and stay under the radar.

And this morning, I made myself go back to the spin class and this time made it through without an incident report. In fact, I made a friend at the class (calm down, it was another girl).

And maybe if I keep working at it, I will learn to swim with my face underwater. Maybe. Oh, and I bought a racquetball racket, so I'm going to give that a try. Stay tuned--I'm sure there are plenty more adventures ahead.

2010-06-28T15:40:00.000-07:00

FOUR DAYS IN BURMA

Day 1: Lost in Translation

We arrived in Burma a bit bleery eyed. Probably because after 25,000 miles of travel, one thing I've learned is that all originating flights leave at 6:00 am. That means we have be at the airport at 4:00 am. Of course, by then, our bodies really had no clue about the difference between am and pm anyway, so it was no big deal

There was one smiling face at the Yangoon airport and thankfully it was the man there to greet us. It's a little difficult to explain 16 scapels, large bottles of levaquin, a water purification systems that looked like flying saucers to a Burmese customs officer. Fortunately, they let us keep everything.

There is one rule in Burmese transportation: Stuff it until it can hold no more. We thought we stuffed our bus and truck with our 18 bodies and 34 suitcases, but we were put to shame when the first truck passed us: three in the cab, eighteen in the bed, and four more holding on to the back. It's the latest thing in fuel efficiency.

When we arrived at the orphanage, the children were excited, curious, and perhaps a little scared. It isn't every day that 17 white people come to their little compound. The kids were dressed in their green and white school uniforms and arranged in orderly rows as they sang "Count Your Blessings"

Our team took over the largest structure - an open building with a metal roof and concrete floor - and began to devise a medical clinic while I went into the dorm (a/k/a "oven") with the children and four suitcases worth of "kid stuff."

I had carefully planned out the next four days...Bible lessons, songs, English lessons, games, and crafts. I had also tried to pack all of the items in an orderly fashion so I would have what I needed when I needed it. I shouldn't have bothered. Fortunately, the kids were pretty patient with me as I tried to sort through the packed, sorted, unsorted, repacked, and then generally mixed around suitcases in the dim light.

People in the US had donated school supplies, flip flops, hygeine items, and other stuff that we had packed in bags for each of the children. As we called each kid's name to come get their bag, there was a thunderous applause and that child would come shake hands with me. Made me feel like Bob Barker or something.

Greg and Rhett joined us in the Oven for a little while and we taught them some songs in English. Then we played some games to help them learn animal names in English. Then we did a craft. Then we played some more games. Then we did another craft. Then we played some more games...We played with balloons. We played with crayons, markers, and paint. We played with beanie babies. We played with legos. We played with cards. We played with pick up sticks. We played with bouncy balls. We played with frisbees. We played with jacks. It seemed like I had no sooner finished explaining something to the translator, than she would look at me and say, "Miss, new game. They want to play."

I decided that it was time to do the Bible lesson. These kids have actually had good Bible teaching from the workers at the orphanage, so I had worked hard to try to come up with a creative way to teach Bible lessons. Today I was going to teach on creation. I thought that I would start by talking about why we study creation from the Bible. I started by asking "How many of you can remember what happened before you were born?"

I had two translators at the time and they both took turns asking the children, then they discussed it with each other, then asked the kids again, and finally turned to me and said, "Hands and feet."

"Hands and feet?" I tried again. More talking with the kids. More discussion. Same answer. I looked into the faces of 42 very confused looking children and finally gave up. We would have to stick with crafts and games.

I couldn't believe it when it was time to leave and I realized it was only 4:30 pm. It seemed like it had been an eternity. In a good way. I made new friends. I sweated out liters of water. I talked myself horse to a group of people that couldn't understand a word.

Perhaps the biggest sum of the afternoon was when the translator said to me, "Miss, you can do many things."

We had indeed done many things. Thanks to the generosity of many people and churches in Charleston, we had done many things. And now all I needed to do was come up with three more days worth of things to do...with little or no translation. And I couldn't wait.

Day 2: Boys, Boys, and more Boys

The girls went to school on day two, but I had about 27 boys ages 5 to 14. All day. Yep. It was fun.

The rest of the team was working--giving medical exams, trying to solve the puzzle presented by the water system, administering prescriptions, etc. And I was playing games and doing crafts. It really wasn't fair.

I know God can use our weaknesses because there is no other way to explain the fun we had making paper airplanes, something I stink at. The boys kept saying some phrase when they would launch their plane. It sounded like sakjd; ajksdl uewiro but it must mean something really cool in Burmese.

I tried to get them to teach me some Burmese, but the only phrase I still remember is "tata ("Goodbye"). Now you understand why we had so much trouble communicating.

I took the most time to explain "Steal the Bacon" and Football to the boys. But I had to stop Steal the Bacon after only a few minutes because it turned into World War III. Football, on the other hand, I couldn't have stopped if I wanted to. It quickly turned into an unrecoginzeable game of throwing, running, passing, kicking, jumping, and bumping with your head. After "hike" who knew what would happen, and it wasn't long before they stopped bothering with "hike."

When the girls came back from school, I thought it was time to give them some attention, so I pulled out the bags of beads that I had brought. I expected the girls to enjoy the beads. What I didn't expect was to get absolutely mobbed. There is nothing in all the world like having 42 sweaty bodies crowding around you and talking eagerly in a language you can't understand while you try to thread a needle on a fat piece of string in a dark room. Nothing.

The boys got into it just as much of the girls and were soon running around throwing the football and frisbees with strings of colored pony beads wrapped around their wrists and necks.

I remember telling my mom that I wanted ten boys. She told me that I would change my mind, and I guess I have. Now I want 27.

Day Three: Take 20 Asprin and Call me in the Morning

On Day three, the majority of the children went to school, so I got to help in our pharmacy for a while. It was cooler in the pharmacy, which was a nice plus.

Hundreds of people from the village came to the clinic and were waiting for hours on hard benches to see the doctors. We had a little of everything from head trauma, to children with heart problems, to worms, difficult pregnancies, and people needing simple operations.

One recurring complaint was dizziness and other was neck pain. I think the dizziness is because of the 110 degree heat with 200% humidity. The neck pain probably because of the loads we say them carrying around on their heads. Sometimes you saw people with a load of hay on their head as big as a Toyota Carolla.

I tried to do some photography and videotaping as well. I don't think I will elaborate on that further.

I learned a lot about medicine that day. And about deciphering doctor's writing. Maybe after the course on photography I can take one on handwriting analysis.

Elizabeth, Curtis, and I generally stayed pretty busy. The people were pretty patient as they waited their turns and the doctors worked like dogs seeing patient after patient. The dentists pulled so many teeth I'm pretty sure the Burmese tooth fairy is filing bankruptcy.

We gave everyone who came through a simple tract and several on the team had opportunities to share the gospel. Dr. McClain shared the gospel with a Buddist monk who came through and Curtis shared with one of the village leaders. Because we were helping the village, they were more receptive than they would ordinarily have been.

When the children came back from school, I felt the magnetic pull back into the Oven. We made more bead necklaces. You talk about neck pain...these kids are going to be taking tylenol because of wearing too many necklaces.

We played some other games...they loved the balloon stomp although they didn't quite understand that when your balloon popped, you are supposed to be out. Oh well. We did some other English lessons and made puppets. Every now and then you would here the sounds of hundreds of little beads hitting the floor and there would be a mad dash to recover rolling pony beads. Good stuff.

Pastor Greg gave the kids a lesson on hygeine. After discussions on brushing their teeth, he said, "Now we're going to talk about water." Just then, the skies broke loose and a torrent of rain came down accented by thunder and lightening. Because of the metal roof, there was so much noise, you couldn't hear someone next to you if they were yelling. So much for our talk on water. We wanted to explain to them the ramifications of the new purification systems that had been installed and the importance of drinking clean water and trying to keep the water clean.

I don't know really know how to say this and maybe it won't come out right...but I don't really feel sorry for poor people. In a way I hate to see them in tattered clothes and eating mostly rice and drinking dirty water. But in another sense, their lives are so much simpler too. They don't have TV and Wii, and DS, and their lives aren't as complicated with a lot of the pressures that we put on ourselves physically and financially. So while I enjoyed bringing good things into the children's lives, I also don't want to build in them a sense of discontentment. If they can build Godliness and keep Contentment they will be richer than money can ever make them.

Day Four: A Little Bit of Everything

I sat next to one of the translators named Rhoda on the hour-long ride to the orphanage. I enjoyed talking to her and learned a lot about the persecution in Burma. She said it is less in Yangoon and the bigger cities because that is where Westerners come. The further you get from Yangoon, the greater the persecution.

Our last day at the orphanage we continued the clinic, made more bead necklackes, gave out more tylenol, and played more football and frisbee. I went back through leftovers from different crafts and with a little creativity, we were able to make new crafts from the same supplies.

Rhett and I played bubbles with the kids. It was their first time seeing bubbles and they had a ball with them. Even the older ones seemed to have fun popping them and blowing them. I let the older boys paint...they had fun with that. And Jonathan and I attempted to teach the kids to play indoor baseball. We were never quite able to communicate the sequence of the bases. The boys would hit the ball and run to the base of their choosing depending on where the ball went and what was open. I'm afraid it was a desecration of the great American sport. All the while, I was sweating my insides out chasing a ball into the furthest corners of the room trying to catch kids who were impossible to catch because if I actually did manage to get the ball to the base before them, they would pick a different base. Kudos to them for thinking outside the box, I guess.

We concluded our visit with another meeting with our whole team and the children. We sang together and Curtis shared another Bible lesson about being Jesus' disciple. I would not be surprised if our visit is something these children (and the village) remember for a long, long time.

I hope, if nothing else, that the children and the village will take from this week a greater understanding of the Church. I want them to know that faith in Jesus Christ is not just something their leaders are teaching them, but something that is so important to us that we would leave our jobs and families and travel to the other side of the world to serve. Maybe as they continue to grow, they will have that kind of vision not only to change their village - which 42 passionate Christians will almost certainly do - but also to advance the Kingdom of God throughout the world.

2010-05-31T16:11:00.000-07:00

When I pulled up to drop something off at the Hock's house the other night, Chris asked me, "So, why are you driving that thing?"

"That thing" that he was referring to was a 1994 F150. It had a post hole digger, a shovel, a dog bowl, and a few feet of rope in the bed. In the cab with me were a few empty water bottles, a dirty paper plate, a drop cloth, and a pair of old tennis shoes. This beast is affectionately referred to as "the Farm Truck."

And why was I driving it? Well, because it is a stick shift and I don't want to get any older not knowing how to drive a standard.

Up until Thursday evening, my entire experience with a stick shift was a sad attempt at a driving lesson around the neighborhood with my friend Melissa about 4 years ago, a few country roads with my friend Anita about a year ago, and one load of junk from the house to the dumpster with Curtis and Steven. Poor Big Red.

So I pulled up after having been given due permission to drive Big Red for a week. Climbed in and started it up just fine. Then I surveyed my dilemma. The marks have long since worn off the gear selector and I couldn't remember how to put it in reverse. To make matters worse, the truck was parked right in front of a pole. I only had about four inches of trial and error. Not a great start to this adventure.

So, I did the logical thing. I called my dad and asked him how to reverse. He tried to give me instructions to drive a truck he'd never seen before while I tried to talk on the phone and try them out at the same time. Like I said, the truck started just fine. I know because I started it about ten times in a row. Yeah, in a row. I couldn't get the truck to move. Not forward or backward. It just kept dying. I finally hung up the phone so I could focus. But it wasn't until I finally figured out the parking break that I actually went anywhere.

Well, things went okay as I pulled out of the driveway and onto the country roads, but I had forgotten a very important detail. I was going to have to pull out from a stop sign and make a left into heavy, highway speed traffic. Well, here we go.

Well, here we didn't go. I tried to go. I tried to go several times. But I kept going backwards. I kept hitting the gas and the truck would roll backward. What in the world? I didn't have it in reverse. I wasn't on a hill. The people behind me started to back up. I tried a few more times. By now, I wasn't scared of getting killed pulling out into traffic, I was scared of Big Red reversing his way all the way home.

The vehicle behind me pulled up next to me. Not working? It was two guys from...another country. They were laughing and it was probably a good thing I couldn't understand much of what they said. They pushed me and Big Red over onto the side of the road. It's leaking. They informed me. That must be the problem. It's leaking.

Another guy pulled up in front of me and popped the hood. That's your radiator. He said. That's your...he proceeded to point at all of the different truck guts and tell me their names. Very helpful. Finally he said, it's not leaking anything. That's just the air conditioner. Here let me try this. He hopped in and had it working just fine. He threw me a softball, "Sometimes the clutch just needs to be pumped a few times." Then he gave me his phone number and told me to call him if I had any other problems. Yeah, right.

So, it was me and Big Red again. Somehow, we made it all the way back to the office. Do you know that Fords kinda jump around? It's the weirdest thing. I just prayed no one I knew saw me hopping, crawling, dying, and just generally surviving my way into town.

When I pulled into the parking lot and shut the thing off, I couldn't for the life of me get the keys out of the ignition. Finally, I gave up and just left it. Surely no one would steal Big Red. He wouldn't even let me drive him and I had permission. Then I had a stroke of genius and I hung one of the old tennis shoes over the keys--so no one would notice.

Big Red and I got along pretty well that night and the next morning as I was on my way to work I started thinking I was starting to get the hang of driving with a stick shift. I pulled up at the final stop sign across from the office and let out a sign of relief. But it wasn't over. Big Red threw the biggest fit of his life. As I hopped my way into the parking lot--my pastor drove by. Excellent timing. Just smile and wave.

That brings us to Saturday. Saturday I was supposed to go kayaking with a group from church. Jonathan asked if we could take Big Red since it would be easy to hitch up a trailer to him. I said that would be fine as long as he drove it. I didn't want to put anyone through me driving a stick shift--with a trailer--on unfamiliar roads--with other people following me. That would be a recipe for disaster.

Jonathan had no trouble at all taking the keys out of the ignition when he stopped. So not fair. We were parked at a boat landing generally in the middle of nowhere, so we threw all of our valuables inside and locked the door. That was 9:30 am.

Little did I know, the ignition key that I so carefully put in my pocket before locking up was just that--an ignition key. It was not going to open the truck. Not ever. Not with any amount of convincing. A coat hanger wasn't going to do anything for us either. When you lock up a 1994 Ford truck, you're done. That's it.

At 4:30 pm, Big Red and I were happily on the way home again. I was tired and he was hungry. But overall, it had been a good day.

Sunday morning, I opted not to take Big Red to church. I was going to meet my cousin and his wife whom I hadn't seen in years. Just for...good measure...I would take my Chevy Silverado.

That was probably a good decision. When Nathanial saw my wheels he said something like, "a truck? I didn't figure you to be such a redneck." Good thing I didn't bring Big Red. Nathanial would have bought me a pair of overalls and started calling me Bubba.

Well, I'm not discouraged by the fact that I can't open Big Red, can't move him, and end up going backwards when I want to go forward. Honestly, that's not the problem. The problem is that he goes through gas like he owns BP. Big Red has two tanks and we've been through both of them. I guess that is his way to get even with me and it might be working. I wish I could tell you how many miles we've traveled together, but the odometers is broken. Along with the speedometer. I guess that's kind of part of what makes him. And now that we've mostly worked out our differences, I may just let him return to his comfortable life as a farm truck. I thought about giving him a good scrubbing before I return him, but a farm truck without mud on his sides is kind of like a guy with shaved legs. He is probably happier with the mud.

2010-05-27T17:23:00.000-07:00

“And out of the hand of Saul”

Pastor Joel preached on David’s song of deliverance from his enemies in 2 Samuel 22 / Psalm 18 Sunday. Good Stuff.

From the time we were two, we sang about “only a boy named David” and the giant who “came tumbling down.” A lot of sermons have been preached on David and Goliath and rightfully so.

It’s a pretty cool story…a teenager defeating a nation’s greatest enemy with a slingshot. He faced his giant with the most primitive of weapons, an awesome God, and tremendous courage that let him do what no other man in his nation would do. A lowly shepherd boy became a national celebrity overnight. Clearly, God was working to defeat the Philistines; but it was also good PR for David— to help him gain the respect of a nation that he would one day rule as king.

But while fame can be acquired in a day, character cannot. Not in a day, a month, or a year. Perhaps that is why David’s greatest victory became a thorn in his flesh when a jealous Saul forced him into a life of running and hiding. One thing I did not know until this recent sermon series on David is that the running and hiding act of David’s life lasted approximately ten years. That’s a long time.

The day David faced Goliath may have been one of his fondest memories, but I doubt it was his most difficult. And even if it was, a day is just…well…a day.

I remember when I was seventeen—I was coaching debate teams, teaching piano lessons, and starting law school. I thought I could do anything. And the more likely I was to fail, the more determined I was to succeed. I wanted to be against the odds. I wanted to do what no one else had ever done before or would ever do again. It is a good thing I was not dared to fight Goliath because I would have done it. And considering my sling shot skills, I would have died trying. And I probably would have been glad that I died a remarkable death instead of an ordinary one.

Not to undermine acts of courage, but they can sometimes be accomplished without a whole lot of character. If you don’t believe me, go to Niagara Falls and look at the museum of people who have gone over the falls in a barrel. On purpose.

But ten years in the wilderness, that’s another story. Ten years of running, hiding, waiting. Three things men—especially the type of men that fight Goliaths—hate. Surely David would rather have had one big fight than ten years of running. Doubtless David would have preferred just to face Saul and duke it out—at least it would be over with once and for all. I would rather face the meanest, ugliest, biggest, baddest giant that I can fight and be done with than struggle with a situation that I have no control over and that just drags on and on. Wouldn’t you?

One thing that struck me in 2 Samuel 22 and Psalm 18 was the heading. “David spake unto the Lord the words of this song in the day that the Lord had delivered him out of the hand of all his enemies, and out of the hand of Saul.”

I found it interesting that David distinguished Saul from his enemies. Most of us would consider someone that chased us for ten years, threw spears at us, tried to kill us in our beds, and forced us to live like an animal in the wilderness for ten years-- as an enemy. Shoot, even Goliath didn’t try to kill David in his bed. Yet despite all the dirty tricks, Saul was God’s anointed and the sling shot was off limits. This was a giant David could not kill; David would have to wait for him to kill himself. Not nearly as climactic. And it would take ten long, long years.

But the fact that David did not even label Saul as his enemy—that is remarkable. Despite the frustration of ten years of waiting, being falsely accused and distrusted, David looks back over his life and has the maturity to see Saul as something different than an enemy. Saul was an instrument of God to build character in David that Goliath could never have built.

The Wilderness seems to be the Ivy League of God’s training grounds. God turned a lot of boys into men in the wilderness. Some got ten years, some got forty. God taught forgiveness, endurance, patience, joy, and humility. God took absolutely everything of value away from some of his most beloved servants and taught them to rely solely on Him (See 1 Samuel 30, especially verse 6).

The times that David bypassed the opportunities to kill Saul, both in the cave and in the camp may have been David’s true greatest moments. The days the giant did not come tumbling down. The days that a giant-killer recognized that discomfort and distain is not necessarily an enemy—and waits patiently for the same God that delivered David from Goliath to deliver him out of the hand of Saul.

2010-05-22T05:09:00.000-07:00

Passion For Christ

I've read a lot of books on it. A lot of good books on a Passion for Christ and the Cross. And it something I care about and want to develop.

But being an adult in America is it's own animal. So much of our lives are making ends meet. Working, cooking, cleaning (okay, so not cooking). But doing the things that would make us responsible parents, citizens, homeowners, employees, and neighbors.

I know everyone's calling will be somewhat different, but generally, what does Passion for Christ look like in 2010? Does Passion for Christ mean spending all my time in the Word of God, or would it take an hour every day to exercise? Does Passion for Christ eat out twice a week? once a week? or does it live on beans and rice and give the rest to missions? Would it go door-to-door on Sunday afternoons or would it lay its weary head on a pillow and close its eyes? Would it shop at Dillards, Goodwill, or wear the same thing every day? Does it eat carrots, brownies, or nothing at all?

These are perhaps dumb questions, but my point is, what do I do practically and consistently to show that Christ is the center and the motivating drive of my life? How is and should my life be different than a nice person who doesn't care about God at all... Because there are already plenty of those in this world and I'm afraid I blend in sometimes.

Recently, something happened that made me angry. Very angry. And it reminded me of a lot of other things that have made me very angry. And the person who in my mind was responsible wasn't sorry at all. I was hurt and miserable and they went their way whistling, convinced that they did a noble thing, when really (permit me to be a bit of a drama queen here) they had absolutely devastated me. There is nothing in all of the world like the feeling that you worked your heart out for something and you got the exact opposite.

So, anyway, I was hurt. And I was angry. And I just kind of let it fester. And every time I took some baby steps toward trying to reconcile, it seems like I would be given even more reason to be angry.

I did something I shouldn't have done, and I went to bed angry. Actually, I wasn't really angry, I was just hurt and I wanted to make sure they understood that. Of course, they didn't care and that made me want to be angry, but I wasn't angry.

The next morning, I spent some serious time with my Bible and got convicted that I needed to forgive and move on. And I knew I would, but first I wanted that person to understand how wrong they were and how bad it hurt. And the more I thought about it, I also wanted them to know that this was all their fault because I was pretty sure that they thought it was mine, but it wasn't.

I went back and forth between my Bible and letting the situation stew in my head. This person surely did not deserve forgiveness. They didn't think they had done anything wrong. They had done it before and will do it again. Maybe I should just move to Australia.

Passion for Christ forgives. For some reason, that statement jumped into my head right in the middle of my debate, kind of like a whistle ending the play that you thought was going to be a score. I may not know what Passion for Christ eats, wears, or shops, but I know that it forgives.

Oh really? Well, obviously, this situation is different. This person just blames me for everything. I'm always misunderstood. And this time, I just wish they would understand for once. I just wish they would act like they care. I just want to explain to them first why what they said hurt.

Passion for Christ forgives.

Well, it isn't really something I need to forgive for. They obviously don't think so. They think they did everything perfectly right and that I'm the dirty rotten sinner...yeah, I know...but they're wrong. They're just wrong.

Well, if they're wrong, then you need to forgive. Passion for Christ forgives.

It slowly sunk in to my dense brain, it really wasn't about what the other person thought or if they thought about it at all. The point is that as a child of God, I'm not permitted to carry grudges. End of story. Passion for Christ says, "Yes, Lord." And it obeys completely.

Forgiveness meant I couldn't dwell on it anymore. I couldn't keep blaming them. I couldn't try to make them be sorry. I had to let the feeling that they didn't deserve to be forgiven go. It really had nothing to do with them. This was between the Lord and me and I just needed to do what He said.

I apologized for my attitude and not to my surprise, the other person said a few things to make sure I knew it was my fault and that I was unreasonable. Maybe they're right, but either way, they are forgiven.

Passion for Christ. I guess the questions I should have been asking were am I listening to my Lord or do I have to be hit over the head with direction from God? Am I obedient or do I go down kicking and screaming? Do I obey immediately or do I have to have my say first?

Passion for Christ is so practical. It has everything to do with how I live now. But perhaps it is not as visible as I thought it would be. Most people have no idea how strong-willed I was naturally. And as I--hopefully--become more obedient to the Lord's will, most people will have no idea of the battles that were fought along the way. But whether or not it is recognized or even misunderstood, our job is to continue to be obedient to Christ. And perhaps as we become invisible, He will become more visible to those around us.

2010-05-22T05:02:00.000-07:00

Layers

When I was in elementary school, we went to Focus on the Family headquarters one day on a field trip. Headquarters were in California at the time…this was back before they developed all of the cool stuff, three story slides and ice cream shops…but it was still a very welcome break from pages of math problems and underlining subjects and double-underlining verbs.

I remember seeing Dr. Dobson in the recording studio through a glass. If I remember though, they were doing some kind of a broadcast in Spanish.

About the only other thing I remember about the tour was something the guide showed us about the printing process. She took one of the magazine covers and demonstrated to us the way it was actually printed. She had a transparency that showed each of the colors—black, cyan, magenta, and yellow. When you laid them all on top of each other, it made an impressive cover for a Brio magazine. But if you took them off, layer by layer, the picture lost its depth, its balance, its shape, and its attractiveness. And if you looked at each transparency separately—you saw no picture at all. Only red, blue, or yellow blobs of color randomly spread around on a page like something a two-year old might do with a can of paint.

For some reason, the Lord brought this image to my mind on an inordinately bad day that came at the end of a difficult week. Each of the layers could represent an aspect of life. The black layer is kind of like the mundane, practical, ordinary side of life. It gives us shape, but no depth. It is taking out the garbage, scrubbing the bathroom floor, buying groceries, and washing dishes. It’s the stuff we do to maintain; the part of ourselves that gets consumed just to keep things running smoothly.

The first layer of color would be the problems, frustrations, difficulties, and just plain bad days. Lost jobs. Annoying family members. Ungrateful people that you’ve helped. Lost keys. Delayed flights. And much, much bigger problems. If you look at this layer by itself, it looks absolutely shapeless. A waste of ink. No attractiveness. No sense. And even laid against the black and white layer, there is little to convince you that there was much of a point.

The next layer, I would say, is the “good stuff” in life. The fun times with friends. The blessings. Vacations. Gifts. It’s clean sheets, and brownies and ice cream, trips to Europe to see bullfights and castles. This would be the layer of color that we look forward to. Walks on the beach. Dove bars. Motorcycle Rides.

True, taken by itself, this layer doesn’t amount to anything either. Although it is fun while it lasts, you can’t just have this layer of life. Your sheets would not be clean and your brownie pans would still be in the kitchen sink. You wouldn’t be able to pay for the trip to Spain, and you would have no one to go with because truly good relationships are built not only in fun times but in the mundane; and they are tested and strengthened in the tough times. But, even so, we are thankful for this layer and hope that the picture we’re making happened to need a lot of that particular color.

We’re going to skip a long description of last layer for now because it really deserves its own little essay and because I want to get to the point.
Someone looking at the finished product will likely have no appreciation for all of the layers of color that went into it. They see a girl skateboarding on the front of a magazine (Okay, so this was twenty some years ago). It has color, it has depth, but the casual observer doesn’t really notice.

But if you took one of those layers out, they would notice. Even the layer of problems and troubles that we would so happily just skip is serving its purpose to turn your character into just the right shade. Take it out and it would be like an old movie with the whole thing tinted blue. Really irritating.

What looks like random blobs of color are actually precisely the right intensity, not too dark to take over the page, not too light so as to prevent the right color from being mixed. They are also precisely shaped – going right up to the lines that they intended to fill, but no farther. It is perfect, exactly the way the artist designed it when he was turning an empty white page into a work of art.

I took the time to write this down because sometimes we need “standing stones” or memorials in our lives that show us God is at work. God had his children set up pillars at specific times so when they looked back, they would be reminded that God was there and He was faithful.

If we look only at the “bad” layer, we can easily produce enough evidence to convince ourselves that life is a random, pointless mess. But if we look at that same layer for what it is, we realize that there is no need to change it, but to let it come and look forward to seeing just what God will do with the finished design.

2009-10-15T09:41:00.000-07:00

THE GROCERY SHOPPING DARE

The single persons guide to weight and budget management

Having just walked out of a grocery store, $127.00 poorer than I was when I went in, I find myself inspired to jot down a few helpful suggestions to help you both save time and money. In fact, this 40-day guide (don’t worry, I type fast) will help you get 40 days past grocery shopping day without grocery shopping. Try it. I dare you.

Day 1: Today doesn’t really count because today is just the day when you look in the refrigerator and think to yourself “I need to go grocery shopping.” The reason this doesn’t count is because no one actually grocery shops on this day. You are probably just out of milk.

Days 2-5: Nothing really exciting goes on these days. You mix your cereal with yogurt. You eat toast. You eat frozen waffles. You don’t eat breakfast at all.

Day 6: This is a landmark day, because you really need to go ahead and throw out whatever fresh items you have left in the refrigerator. You are not going to eat the leftovers. The lettuce is a soggy green and brown mixture. The carrots will bend into rings. The bananas are black. Again, you are not going to eat those leftovers. Put them in the trash can.

Days 7-10: This is when you really start feeling like you have nothing to eat. But if you are honest with yourself, you will admit that really the cupboards contain not one, but two of a lot of different things. That is because these are the things you bought because they were buy one get one free. You never really wanted these items to begin with. You just bought them because someday you might need them. Well, today is someday.

Day 11: Today is the day when you clean out everything else in your refrigerator. The sour cream. The leftovers (I told you you wouldn’t eat them). The 10-lb bag of onions that still contains all ten pounds. The potatoes that look like they need to be planted back in the ground.

Days 12-22: Now is when we begin to concentrate on the freezer. You have ten frozen pot pies in there (they were 10 for $10), so that will keep you going for a long time. You totally do not need to go to the grocery store.

Day 23: Today is cheat day. You get to go to some kind of a store that sells food, just don’t let yourself stay in there more than 10 minutes or spend more than $10 and it doesn’t count.

Day 24: Today you start to thaw out the 10-lb brick of ground beef that has been in the freezer since you were born. Just think of all the things you can do with ground beef. It will take a while to thaw, though, so we will get back to this one.

Day 25: Today you get on the computer to try to find a recipe that takes taco shells, tomato paste, tea bags, and chicken broth.

Day 26: Your friend’s birthday. Say yes to the invitation. Eat everything you see.

Day 27: Back to the freezer. You find the 2lb bag of lima beans that has doubled as an ice pack whenever needed. You chew on a few, but really, lima beans work better for an ice pack. Then you find a bag of frozen fruit – strawberries, bananas, peaches, enough for a fruit smoothie. (You didn’t put them there so they were probably there from Rachel. Four roommates ago.) Gold!

Day 28-33: The ground beef should be thawed by now (and bleeding all over the refrigerator). The internet is again your resource for great recipes like hamburgers...Meatballs...Cooked meat...Cooked meat with flavoring on it...Cooked meat with different flavoring...

Day 34: Day of prayer and fasting.

Day 35-38: Now would be a good time to go out of town for a few days and eat whatever, wherever. No, this isn’t cheating. This is expert timing at its best. You don’t have a guilty conscience while eating out thinking, “why am I buying more food while I have a fridge full of rotting money at home?”

Day 39: Use salad oil and the loose popcorn kernels that are leftover from _____________________? (why on earth did you buy non-microwave popcorn?) in a pot to make popcorn. It will fill you up if you eat enough.

Day 40: The bad news - you actually do have to make it through Day 40 in order to have completed the dare. The worse news – it is time to through out what’s left of the hamburger meat. I guess all that leaves is the lima beans. Sorry.

Now you know why my mother worries about me.

2009-10-15T09:39:00.000-07:00

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days (for Christian Girls)

I’m pretty sure that being single for 27 years and listening to my friends talk about their marriages and dating experiences has made me an expert on relationships. So...I decided that now is as good a time as any to share my vast knowledge and experience with you. Within the next 10 days, you will be able to determine whether a dating relationship is God’s will for you (or simply improve on your marriage). All of these suggestions have been thoroughly tried; and even if you find that this relationship is not for you, you will both be a better Christians at the end.

DAY 1: JOY is a critical characteristic of every good relationship. Therefore, once you find the right guy you should live happily ever after. If you are in a relationship and you aren’t happy, it is the guy’s fault since he is the leader. He is not doing his job very well and should be appropriately punished. I recommend the silent treatment for this. If he is deaf, lots of crying can work too.

DAY 2: Men are, by nature, proud creatures. It is up to us to teach them some Christ-like HUMILITY. So, when your man finishes something, be sure to point out when how he could have done it better, quicker, or cheaper if he had just listened to you. He will probably understand better if you give him an example of someone you know who could have done it better, quicker, or cheaper. If you can’t think of someone at the moment, just point out that the whole project wasn’t really necessary (i.e. – “You know, I actually liked it better when the lawn was up to my waist; it was much easier to hide Easter eggs.”)

DAY 3: Help him learn GRATEFULNESS by making sure he notices every little thing you do for him (i.e. “Did you notice I put mustard and mayonnaise on your sandwich?”) and make sure he thanks you thoroughly and appropriately. If he does not, don’t even think about doing nice things for him again. There is no point.

DAY 4: Test his TRUTHFULNESS by asking questions such as, “Does this make me look fat?” He will probably come up with some cheap nonsense like “You look beautiful in anything.” That is flattery. He is spreading a net for your feet. Of course, if he says “No,” he is probably lying, which is sin. If he says “Yes,” that is...that is...that is just plain mean.

DAY 5: It is very important in any relationship that the man know how to say “I’M SORRY.” So any time you have a misunderstanding or a disagreement, make sure he is willing to say “I’m sorry” and ask for forgiveness first. In fact, he should do it a few times before you actually act like he is forgiven. NOTE: This is true even if you caused the problem to begin with; that is really beside the point. Remember, men are supposed to be the leaders.

DAY 6: Men tend to act childish at times. When they do, it is important to discourage this behavior by treating them as such. In most cases, “the Look” and a few choice words such as “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with an adult” are necessary. Remember, the passages in Scripture dealing with submission do not apply when you, in your sole discretion, determine that your man is not acting like a leader.

DAY 7: PURITY is a crucial quality of a godly man, so be very sensitive if your man notices, compliments, or looks at another girl. If he admits to you that he has ever dealt with lust, get rid of him as quickly as you can. A man who actually admits that he struggles is just not worthy of you.

DAY 8: Never stop looking to see if there is someone else out there who might be better than the man in your life currently. To check to see if you’re as happy as you should be, read other people’s blogs, look at their facebook pictures, and reads lots of romance novels. (TV shows can work too). If being with your man doesn’t give you the same warm, fuzzy feelings that you get from books and movies, than it’s not the real thing.

DAY 9: Your man should give you his undivided attention. If he lets other things, such as sports, become so important that he would rather watch a game than simply stare into your eyes; you’ve got problems. Remind him what a waste of time sports are and how he should be spending his time reading his Bible, praying, and evangelizing the lost.

If this does not work (and it probably won’t), than feel free to resort to the following: Find out who his favorite teams are and google them (www.google.com) to find out who their rivals are. Get some T-shirts, sweat shirts, and a license plate holder for the rival team. Come up with some connection with the rival (i.e. “My cousin thought about going to that school” or “They have a Christian Coach” in a real pinch, “The quarterback is cute” will work unless it’s baseball; then use “I just like their colors.”). Be sure to watch every game with your man and root for the opposing team. In fact, every time you see him say something provocative like “Gators! Losers!”

DAY 10: If he hasn’t proposed by now, he is obviously lacking WISDOM and is not in fellowship with the Holy Spirit. Dump him. If he does propose, I suggest you say “yes.” Rather quickly.

2008-12-24T05:25:00.000-08:00

God is in the business of rewarding those who diligently seek Him! The pain we experience on earth is a powerful testimony to the fact that God loves us too much to leave us in the rough, unfinished shape that we are in.
He will take away the things that make us feel secure so that our faith in Him will grow. And as it does, we will discover that He is all we truly need.
I am so grateful that God has not given me what I wanted so I can say with conviction, "His grace is sufficient!"

2008-11-29T17:05:00.000-08:00

2007-12-26T10:36:00.000-08:00

Just a few Christmas Shots...

2007-10-17T05:26:00.000-07:00

30 Hours at Lake Tahoe

OBCL Alumni Meeting ...

2007-10-17T05:16:00.000-07:00

Continued...

2007-07-18T14:26:00.000-07:00

2007-07-18T14:17:00.000-07:00

A few Photos from Paul's graduation weekend in May...

2007-07-18T14:02:00.000-07:00

Thailand Photos at Last...

This is one of those times when pictures just don't do justice. I think I spent some of the happiest days of my life in Thailand this summer...chasing kids and bouncy balls, singing, sharing my testimony, and just watching how God is working in the hearts of children on the other side of the world.

2007-06-28T17:51:00.001-07:00

They Call Me "Teacha"

"Teacha, follow me" said one of the several dozen shorn heads. And then as if they were afraid I wouldn't, six of them grabbed my arms and we headed down a very muddy path away from the Vocational School.

I was a little surprised the kids liked us after we gave them medical exams-something kids in the states can hardly stand; but these girls seemed to have recovered from whatever fright we must have given them.

After a few minutes, we got to an open patch of grass between the corn fields where some of the older boys were playing volleyball and some of the others were engaged in a game of almost-professional soccer with no boundaries.

Since my soccer skills are slightly less than "almost-professional" and because we couldn't all play soccer, we started another game. I won't desecrate the great American sport by calling what we did baseball...but it evolved from that idea.

We didn't have a bat or a ball with us at the time, so we used a long stick to hit a shorter stick. There were two bases, then home. The problem with "home" was that when the kids didn't want to get tagged out, they would take off running across the fields. At first we chased them, but we were no match for their little feet. Especially when we were trying to avoid piles of...uh...stuff.

Another big hit with the kids was playing with bouncy balls inside the school. We had more fun doing that then I've had in a long time...Throwing, catching, chasing, and climbing under furniture with 12 little boys ages 9-11 shouting to each other and rattling off instructions to each other in Karen and Karenni languages. I got more of a workout doing that then I would have had in a month at a gym.

I'm so grateful for the teachers that are investing time and energy in these kids. They are doing a great job caring for both the physical, spiritual, and educational needs of these precious little ones. It was an honor to be called "teacha," even if just for a day.

2007-06-27T16:35:00.000-07:00

Not just another day at the office

I spent the last two days at Freedom House Orphanage in Mae Sot, Thailand. I have been privileged to visit and get to know the children over the past three visits and each time they have become more dear and more precious to my heart.

Tuesday, we did medical check-ups on each of the kids. My job was to get each of the kids' height and weight. Even that can be a bit of a challenge with the language barrier, but they were great kids and generally caught on to the process without too much confusion. The thing that was perhaps the most difficult was asking them their age. Kids who said they were 13 less than a year ago now told us they were almost 16...What do you say to that? I am pretty much convinced that there is no 14 in Karen.

The girls had a blast painting their nails and making bead necklaces. We played some games with the boy; they can make incredible works of art with play-doh. Beware that they have their own creative rules for checkers; and if you try to play "Go Fish" with Karen children, all fish are "goldfish."

Wednesday we gave out medication to those who needed it and were able to spend more time jut interacting with the kids. Some of them are scheduled to come to the US in the near future and asked for my address and phone number so they can contact me in the states. One of them said she would learn English so she could call me.

My heart especially went out to one of the boys who is not on the resettlement list to come to the States. He said he wants to be a doctor. His opportunities are rather limited within the refuge camp, so I will be praying with him for a miracle. Although I don't believe they all need to come to the States, I would love for them all to be in a place where they can have jobs and support families.

I got to share my testimony with the children and I tried to share a little bit about my life in a way these children could relate. I know what it is to move alone and learn to find a new job, make new friends, and find a new church; but I really can't imagine what it is like to go to a new country as a child or a young teen where I don't speak the language. I tried to stress to them that the same God who is with me will be with them everywhere they go. When they are lonely, it is God alone who can satisfy them.

When we left the camp, the kids all escorted us out to the gate, holding umbrellas over our heads (or in our eyes, whatever the case may be). They stood forever at the gate waiving and blowing kisses. All of us girls were crying. I hate saying "goodbye," so I told them all "See you later" and I hope I will.

I can't wait to post pictures; I will put some up as soon as I get a chance. In the meantime, you can check out www.rememberthose.org for some shots of our visit to Mae La refugee camp.

2007-04-16T16:57:00.000-07:00

February 17, I moved...again. I must have a short memory to have forgotten how much hassle it is to fix up a house. But THIS time, I told my friends helped move that they can dig a hole in the backyard and bury me there, because I don't plan to move again. Of course, I said that last time...

Two days after we moved in, we ripped out the hall bathroom and the kitchen. I do mean ripped out. Little did we know, we would be without a kitchen for three weeks. Thank God for yogurt and baby carrots!

The good news is that we are through the worst of it. In the last couple months, we have done a lot of painting, cleaning, unpacking, shopping, hanging, decorating, digging, planting, raking, and fixing air conditioners (that was my least favorite part). I still have a long way to go on the landscaping end of things, but if I was done, who knows...I might get the urge to move again.

I had good Friday off and I spent it out front digging out what was left of azalea bushes that had been there. I thought I was working pretty hard until my neighbor came by and said, "We can tell you sit behind a desk everyday." What was that supposed to mean?

I found out there there are two kinds of people on my street, those who think I should take the oak in front of my house out, and those who think I should leave it in. I think I will take up a collection from those who think I should take it out.

Saturday night I added another chapter to the book I will write one day titled "Times I have locked myself out of the house." Chapter five, I think. Five friends came over to help me break in this time. Thanks to John, we were able to get in without damaging any doors or windows. Some day I will learn. Maybe in the next house. :)

2007-04-16T16:38:00.000-07:00

Charity's World

February 9 I traveled to Alabama to visit a friend and her family and then on to Pensacola to see Charity's art show. It was my first time to PCC ever and my first time mixing with college students in a long time. After just a couple days I have to say, I feel a little old. I'm not sure I could share a bedroom with three other girls anymore.

I was impressed that Charity has grown into a quality young woman. We went to fine arts with some of her friends-not the "cool crowd," but a group of girls that Charity genuinely reaches out to.

Saturday we took time to go to a local nursing home. Something Charity had done faithfully through her four years of college. We sang all the old favorites with the residents and did our best to talk with them about the Lord.

Sunday afternoon was her show...she had hung up pieces that she worked on throughout her four years there. I have several of her pieces framed in my home and office, but I keep trying to convince her to sell me more.

It was a long drive home, but it was well worth it. Thanks for letting me come, Charity. I can't wait to see what God is going to do with your gifts in the days to come!

2007-01-13T11:19:00.000-08:00

2007-01-13T11:13:00.000-08:00

Christmas 2006

A few days in NH with the whole family...Caleb who was recovering from the Chicken pox and Violet who is getting around like a little lady.

2006-10-09T04:47:00.000-07:00

September passed quickly...I spent the first nine days of the month overseas in Thailand and Burma...and the rest of the month recovering, with one work trip to Pennsylvania with a day off at Niagra Falls...

The trip with Remember (www.rememberthose.org) went well. We visited the orphanage that we support in northern Thailand. It was fun to get to see the kids again. We also spent a little bit of time at a village in Burma. We had a doctor, dentist, and RN with us, so they did a number of medical check ups everywhere we went.

It was a lot of fun...I'm not sure it's fair to even have that much fun on a mission trip. Maybe it would sound better if I said I was sick two of the days we were over there and that we spent about 30 hours in travel each direction. That's brutal. Especially when you can't take toothpaste and eye drops on board the plane.

The time we spent with the children was really great, though, and Remember is working on ideas that will help us have a lasting impact on lives. I'm praying that the Lord will show me what he wants me to do in that respect.

So long for now...

2006-08-19T12:25:00.000-07:00

So Why Did You Decide ...not... to go to Law School?

Those of you who have been up-to-date over the past year and a half are probably some what familiar with my decision to go back to law school...and to go to law school...and not to go to law school... I think it may be the most dificult decision I've made so far in my life.

But when classes started on Monday, I wasn't there.

It's not easy to explain. But I will say that one of the benefits of not going to school four nights a week is that I'm able to go on another mission trip this summer. Lord willing, I will be leaving August 31 for a return trip to Thailand and Burma. If you think of it, please pray for me and the rest of the team for health and physical safety and that we will be an encouragement to the believers over there.

2006-08-19T12:00:00.000-07:00

Two Year Anniversary

Well...I wrote a nice little article to post here on Thursday, my two year anniversary of living in Charleston. However, my computer appears to have eaten it. One thing that was on my "to do" list the day I got to Charleston, "fix our computer system," still hasn't happened. Oh, well, I guess they'll just have to keep me for a while longer.

Anyway, the article I was going to post got eaten, the pictures I keep trying to post won't show up on the screen, and my brain doesn't seem to be in a creative enough mode right now, but I'm posting anyway because I'm trying to get back into the habit of doing this regularly...however rusty I am at it today.

2006-06-20T05:13:00.000-07:00

Meet CHRIS

Yes, that's right...CHRIS stands for "Could Hardly Resist Inviting Suspicion" and also happens to be the name of my brother-in-law to be. Erin got engaged last month...I sure she'd love to tell you about it!

2006-06-20T05:10:00.000-07:00

Caleb and Violet enjoying Spring!

2006-06-02T05:05:00.000-07:00

Second Anniversary

Two years ago today I took my oath and was sworn in as an attorney. It seems more like two hundred years ago...all things considered, they have been good years. I've learned a lot and found out how much more I have to learn. I am grateful to the Lord for his faithfulness throughout law school and in helping me find just the right job at just the right time.

I am planning to begin law school again, believe it or not. I have enrolled in the Charleston School of Law and should begin taking night classes in mid-August. It will be quite a challenge to work and do school again, but I know the Lord is still faithful and if this is His will for me, He will see me through it, one day at a time.

Thanks to all of you who tell me time to time that you are praying for me. That has meant a lot to me and I hope you will keep me updated so I can pray for you as well.

2006-05-09T05:09:00.000-07:00

The Exploding Rose Bush

One of our favorite things about our office is the rose bush out back. Every spring is absolutely explodes with color.

Being a rose lover, I have five bushes planted outside my house, and I feel fortunate when I have one rose blooming between the five of them. The bush at the office puts all of them to shame. It's as if that bush simply cannot have enough roses.

We get all kinds of insights from that bush, but Curtis said something about it that particularly stuck in my mind..."Some days I could probably have brought more glory to God as a rose bush." I don't normally think that deeply...but that comment made me want to be like an exploding rose bush. One that simply cannot have enough roses. It just cannot bring enough glory to God! (Psalm 19:1)

2006-04-29T06:54:00.000-07:00

Okay so I haven't blogged in a while...

Where do I begin? I had three girls over to spend the night again. We hunted for Easter eggs in the dark...we dressed up in goofy costumes in the dark...we sang at the top of our lungs in my kitchen (which echoes) and used half a bottle of soap doing dishes...

I've raked and raked and raked. And my yard looks like I need to rake it.

I babysat five kids for five days...That was a blast. We made a water balloon launcher. After several tries, we did successfully start seeing balloons go flying...Then we had to try to find all the broken balloon pieces. One of the kids said someone should invent water balloons that dissolve. Yeah, good idea.

I made a new friend last night. I talked with an old friend the night before. That's right, an oooold, married friend, Kimmie. I'm planning another trip to California in May to see another old friend get married.

I taught a ladies Bible study on the woman at the well. I guess I should say I "led" a ladies Bible study...either way...I was there and they were very patient with me. It's been too long since I did something like that.

I tried to tune my guitar for the first time in a year. And I was unsuccessful. Maybe I'll try to get some strings today. I'm sure that's the problem, the strings.

I played an offertory at church. That was another thing I hadn't done in forever. I love music!

My nephew turned two! I got to talk with him on his birthday. He is talking up a storm and doesn't call me "Yell" any more.

I've slept and eaten and laughed and cried and pretty much done everything but blog over the past few weeks. I will have to start thinking deeper thoughts and coming here to put them into words.

2006-04-06T14:45:00.000-07:00

Bright Beginnings

Yesterday I accidently spilled something on my laptop keyboard. This morning when I came in, by "Y" key was sticking (along with a few others). So...I made the mistake of popping it off and trying to clean it up. I got it off all right, and the next thing I knew, I had five little pieces in my hand...not the best way to start a day.

It works (obviouslY), but I can't get the cover to stay on any longer...not even after 45 minutes or reassembling and superglue. Meanwhile, the other keys have stopped sticking. Why didn't I just leave it alone and type slowly for a while???

If anyone knows a good fix for computer keys would you let me know?

Thanks. :)

2006-04-04T04:54:00.000-07:00

Life at the Law Firm

Curtis settled a big case last Wednesday, so that has taken quite a bit of the pressure off. In fact, it is getting hard to stay motivated when I can look out the window and see the sun shining, flowers blooming, and birds singing. Yes, the day is always nicer on the other side of the window.

I have had some out of doors time, so I can't complain. Over the weekend, I worked in the yard for several hours. I still have hours of raking to do in my backyard. I don't know where all those leaves come from. I'm sure some of them are from Australia. Just the same, I think I need to have some trees taken out so I'm not in this mess every year. The problem is, the pretty trees are the ones that are the messiest. What's up with that?

Anyway...back to work on this fine, fine Tuesday...

2006-03-28T04:53:00.000-08:00

PRIDE

My name is Pride. I am a cheater.
I cheat you of your God-given destiny...beecause you demand your own way.
I cheat you of contentment...because you 'deserve better than this.'
I cheat you of knowledge...because you already know it all.
I cheat you of healing...because you're too full of me to forgive.
I cheat you of holiness...because you refuse to admit when you're wrong.
I cheat you of vision...because you'd rather look in the mirror than out a window.
I cheat you of genuine friendship...because nobody's going to know the real you.
I cheat you of love...because real romance demands sacrifice.
I cheat you of greatness in heaven...because you refuse to wash another's feet on earth.
I cheat you of God's glory...because I convice you to seek your own.
My name is Pride. I am a cheater.
You like me because you think I'm always looking out for you. Untrue.
I'm looking to make a fool of you.
God has so much for you, but if you stick with me, you'll never know what.

"But let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price." - I Peter 3:4

2006-03-24T15:08:00.000-08:00

Paul and I...

2006-03-12T18:29:00.000-08:00

2006-03-12T18:19:00.000-08:00

"Yell"

That's me...that's what Caleb calls me anyway.

I had a great time with Paul and the Wilkins when they came to visit last week. We stayed a few nights at the beach house (Edisto Beach) and got to see a little of Charleston. There is much more to see, so I guess they'll just have to come again...

2006-03-12T18:17:00.000-08:00

2006-03-12T14:01:00.000-08:00

Dear Folk and Special People

Last weekend I had the privilege of traveling to California to be a part of the wedding of Mike and Kimmie Ledesma (Kimmie Ledesma? That will take a little getting used to).

Kimmie and I met when we were seven...I remember playing in the sandbox at church with her and my sister, Allyson, and her sister, Mandie. Although she moved away several years later, we were able to re-establish our friendship in 1999 and have been close ever since. We have made lots of memories at debate tournaments in California, kayaking in Pennsylvania, eating lobster in Boston (well, actually NOT eating lobster in Boston), staying at the Beach House in Charleston, and sometimes spilling our guts and bawling our eyes out to each other over the phone.

I have also known Mike and his family for ten years or more...and it was great to see them again for a while this weekend. It hadn't really sunk in to me how long I've been gone from California until I see how much everyone we knew there has grown and changed. Kids I had in Cubbies are graduating from high school. It's frightening. Still, it was fun to see some wonderful people that I hadn't seen in several years.

Anyway, I arrived very early Friday morning and had a few days to spend with Kimmie and other friends before the wedding Sunday. Paul came out on Saturday and had a good time goofing off with the groomsmen. We all drove down to Newport Beach where the wedding was and stayed the night in a hotel.

Sunday was a beautiful day. Kimmie and I went for a long walk on the beach. The weather was just about perfect. Then the other bridesmaids, Kimmie, and I spent several hours doing what we normally do in a fraction of the time...getting ready to go out the door.

The ceremony went very nicely. They were married on a cruise ship, so we had dinner and everything on board. Paul and I enjoyed the view from the top deck for a while. Brothers are great things, particularly my brother.

Monday morning 4:30 came early and that was the beginning of a horriffic 21 hours of travel time from Ontario Ca to Lexington, KY.

Mike and Kimmie called from Florida this week to give me some expert advice on marriage (in the event I ever need it). They said I would probably be okay if I didn't always insist I was right. That would be easy except that I am always right. :)

2006-03-01T05:30:00.000-08:00

I miss you guys...

2006-02-28T05:01:00.000-08:00

It's another beautiful February day in Charleston. We have been having cool and warm days by turn (nothing truly cold to a transplanted Yankee). I don't have anything to write about, really, except that once again I find myself amazed at the overwhelming grace of God and His goodness to me. I can't believe He chose me to be His child. "I will glory in my redeemer..."

2006-02-22T14:46:00.000-08:00

Taxes

I just finished my taxes. I think. Until this year, I haven't minded filing so much. It may sound crazy, but I guess because my taxes were pretty simple it never seemed like a big deal.

This year I have sat down to do them at least a half a dozen times. The first three or four times, I realized I didn't have some receipt or something that I needed, so I had to wait until I could go home and dig through my files.

I finally got my paperwork in order, then something happened between my computer and the software to keep me from filing or printing. There's always something, I guess. The software wouldn't print, it wouldn't take my routing number, and it kept insisting that I skipped a step. As punishment, it would send me back to the beginning. As result, what should have taken about forty minutes has taken...well...a lot longer. I guess they just want to make sure that I earn the money I'm supposed to get back. Twice.

Anyway, having griped, I do have to admit that I make part of my living by the complexities of the tax code and I working on a limited basis with a lot of people who make all of their living by it. That's not to say I'm a big fan of it. I'm just well, tolerant.

Happy filing to the rest of you. In case your wondering, taxactonline.com works great. Except, well, when it doesn't.

2006-02-13T05:20:00.000-08:00

Girls, Girls, Girls

This weekend, on a whim, I invited three girls from Pioneer clubs to go ice skating. We had a good time, although I couldn't help but notice that ice skating with kids is different than ice skating with adults. We were on and off the ice constantly tie shoe lacing, adjusting socks, trading skates, and eating food.

They have "skate masters" out now that take the challenge out of ice skating. Gone are the days of sink or swim, just grab a hold of a walker and sail around. Sounds like an up-and-coming Olympic sport...

Afterwards, I brought the girls to my house for hot chocolate and cookies. We were having so much fun that the girls asked to spend the night. I said yes. I'm crazy.

Of course, as soon as I said that, the power went out. The girls were sure that I hadn't paid my bills. I was more concerned about what to do without heat and hot water on Sunday morning.

There is something about a slumber party that makes people want to play pranks. The girls were creative but they lacked variety. After a while, I got tired of cleaning honey off every door handle in the house (the refrigerator even). Just when I thought the joke had finally breathed it's last, we were leaving for church and I found honey on my car door.

Anyway, I survivied despite the honey, the screaming (those girls have good lungs and, apparently, I have Palmetto bugs in my house) , and the beads that got strewn from end to end of my living room when one of the girls started making bracelets.

Just when I was breathing a sigh of relief the girls asked, Miss Danielle, what are you doing next weekend?

2006-02-07T14:59:00.000-08:00

Quotes Worth Pondering

"It is a good thing to give thanks unto Thee and to sing praises unto Thy name, O Most High, to show forth Thy loving-kindness in the morning and Thy faithfulness every night. As Thy Son while on earth was loyal to Thee, His heavenly Father, so now in heaven He is faithful to us, his earthly brethren; and in this knowledge we press on with every confident hope for all the years and centuries yet to come. Amen."

"Do good in Thy good pleasure unto us, O Lord. Act toward us not as we deserve but as it becomes Thee, being the God Thou art. So shall we have nothing to fear in this world or in that which is to come. Amen."

(taken from The Knowledge of the Holy by A.W. Tozer)

2006-02-07T14:33:00.000-08:00

This Little Piggy

It's funny to me what things stick with you over time. Sometimes the strangest things come back to me...things that my parents said that they probably thought I never listed to...random stuff I read...commercials I saw once 15 years ago...that kind of thing.

I have this little pink pig sitting on my desk today. Someone who used to work here left it behind and I guess it reminded people of me so I ended up with it. It's kind of cute and when you squeeze it, it makes grunting sounds.

Anyway, as I looked at it this afternoon, it reminded me of an unusual book my mom read to us years ago called "Fair, Then Partly Piggy." I don't know why this silly story came back to me on this particular day except that the title probably describes both myself and the weather on this not-so-fine Charleston day. I should have decided against wearing pink this morning; I'm afraid if someone squeezed me right now, I just might grunt too.

I don't feel like getting out of my pig mood, but I need to conclude this and get to the gym...so if you have any words of wisdom for someone who is acting like a pig, maybe you can send them my way. Even if I don't apply them now, 10 years from now they'll probably come back to me. Who knows, maybe they'll inspire another blog spot.

2006-02-06T05:19:00.000-08:00

I got to do something yesterday that I've been wanting to do for a long time...dirt bike! The ground was perfect for it-wet and muddy. I scared some people because the first thing I did was head for a giant clump of bushes. Curtis thought I couldn't stop...no I could stop, it was everything else that I wasn't so sure about.

If I had a digitial camera, I'd post a picture of myself with messy hair and muddy pantlegs riding through the garden on accident...but since I don't, I guess I'll leave it to your imagination.

2006-02-01T14:57:00.000-08:00

Capturing Moments

During a recent conversation with my brother, he told me that he had started reading a book in his spare moments...usually the few minutes of down time that he has in school when he gets to class a little early.

That conversation has prompted me to think a little bit more about how I use those short blocks of time "in-between" the other things I do. I have letters to write and books to read, and I never seem to be able to check those things off my to-do list.

A friend of mine told me that he made it a point to read 15 minutes worth of legal and procedural rules every morning during his first year of law practice. That little thing and those few moments have paid off in a major way. It's amazing what knowing the rules of the game will do.

So, Paul, you motivated me to start trying to capture the moments. For starts, I'm going to start reading an English manual because I feel like my grammar skills could use a little brushing up. I don't care if I read a sentence a day; that will be one sentence more than I have been reading. And I have a feeling that I will be surprised at how many moments for capturing come my way.

2006-01-19T04:46:00.000-08:00

Well...it's over. After a day of opening speeches and the first three witnesses, the defendant decided to settle with us. So, I guess you could say we won. It was a little bit of a let down since we had done all the work to prepare a trial and we only got to go halfway (okay, so Curtis did most of the work). Curtis didn't get to give his closing speech (that had about had me in tears when he started it in his office), and we didn't get to find out what the jury would have thought of us or our case.
I'm afraid I've already bored a few people to tears by telling them about all the details...the motions, the briefs, the jury, the witnesses, the judge, the opposing attorney, and, of course, the story...so I won't get into all that unless you ask.
It was fun for me to help with the trial preparations...even if it did mean a couple weeks of ten, twelve, and fourteen hours days. It was even more exciting to be able to go to court and see the fruit of our labor (okay, so I didn't actually do anything besides sit there...but still). There may be attorneys out there that do that all the time, but this was only my second time to court in a year and a half and my first time actually being a part of the trial. I hope it won't be the last time, though.
So, today I get to get back to drafting leases and researching tax laws...real attorney work...

2006-01-08T16:46:00.000-08:00

Brethren, Pray for Us

2006 has already brought change and excitement. The changes are good, like a garage door without holes and a roommate who can cook... On the excitement end of things, it looks like we have a case that may be going to trial this week. (I say "we"--I'm not really doing anything). Please pray for us as this means some extra hours, weariness, and strain. I will try to tell more soon.

2006-01-04T04:39:00.000-08:00

Home Repairs

I didn't know until a friend told me that the "personal profile" sections of these blogs automatically link your profile to other people of like interest. For example, I put as one of my interests "working with children." If you click on that phrase, it will show you other bloggers with that same interest.

Curious as to whether anyone else shared my deep love for home repairs (pipe down, I was just curious), I clicked on that link. Wouldn't you know it, not one single name came up.

This past weekend, I decided, was going to be a home repairs weekend. My Uncle Jeff was coming down from Greenville to put in a much needed hot water heater, so it was a good time for me to devote some time and attention to things in the house needing time and attention.

So...I went to Lowe's (mistake number one) and bought some light fixtures to replace the bare bulbs and wires that are currently hanging out of my ceiling. While I was there, I found that they had carts of wall paper border on sale for $.50 cents a roll. Well, the price was right, anyway.

The only problem was that they didn't have enough of any of the borders I liked. So, I had to drive to another Lowes, (where they were not on sale for $.50 cents a roll) in order to get enough.

While I was in that Lowes, I found some light fixtures that I liked better than the ones I had bought at the first Lowes, so I bought those and planned to take the others back. I also bought a new mailbox, because mine is falling apart.

But when I went to fix the mailbox, I discovered that I needed more than just a new mailbox, I needed to some items to fix the post as well because it was also falling a part. That was fine, because I needed to go back to Lowes anyway to take the light fixtures back. I had borrowed a truck for the water heater, so I decided this would be a good time to go ahead and also get some other large items I needed. And while I was there, I started looking through the wall paper border bins again...Anyway, you get the idea.

Saturday I went out to rake my front yard and between my cousin, Chris, and I, we raked up 18 bags of leaves from my overgrown trees out front. It felt good to finally get those leaves out of the way. Except that the raking reminded me that I need to have a few of those trees taken out. Once I get the trees taken out, I need to re-seed the yard. Of course, if I actually had real grass out front, I'd need a mower, and edger...maybe a lawn service.

Just as all this is going through my head, my neighbor across the street come over and asked me if I wanted to borrow his mower to mow my lawn. A neighbor offering you a lawn mower, I figured, is kinda like a friend offering you a breath mint. The right answer is yes.

Turns out, he is a professional landscaper and he had a riding lawn mower that I could borrow for my tiny little front lawn full of trees. I was afraid I'd do something to the mower. "Don't worry," He said. "Just keep it out of the draining ditch and you'll be fine."

I'm sure I provided plenty of entertainment as I started, stopped, and lurched around. I went over an ant hill. Then he told me it would be a good idea to stay away from ant hills. I mowed while he watched from across the street. Then he came over and suggested I empty the bag.

I did not drive the mower into the drainage ditch, however, I also did not mow the grass around the ditch. So between the ant hills and the grass around the ditch, it still looks a little ghetto.

The water heater did get replaced on Saturday. Twice. The first one had some kind of a leak that got in the electrical system and probably would have blown me up. Then Uncle Jeff went to replace one of the light fixtures and when he removed the previous light, the charred remains of the box that was in the ceiling came down on my while tile floor. I now have a hole in my ceiling instead of a light. My uncle is a trooper and he has offered to come again soon and replace the box...and possibly my garage door...which is another story...

Then Monday, Anita came over to help me hang wall paper border. Unfortunately, the stuff I bought for the kitchen from the second a Lowes was a close, but not exact, match to the stuff I got from the first Lowes. We didn't discover that until we had started hanging it. Now I need to find a third Lowes.

But it's all for a good cause. Yesterday I had some company over and they said the house was nice. Very "homey" I think they said..."Not at all like a fixer upper."

It made me think about how much work has gone into that place and how little of it was mine. So many people have pitched in to help me paint, and fix, add, and repair...it's humbling to think about how many people have given of their time and energy for my place.

Like me, you may have found that the general rule of thumb with home projects is "twice as long, twice as much." But there's something to be said for home repairs...after they're done, anyway.

The moral of the story is, stay away from Lowes, unless of course, you plan on at least three trips.

2005-12-30T11:36:00.000-08:00

Goals

When I was home over Christmas, I came across a notepad someone had given me some ten or twelve years ago. In it, I had written all kinds of stuff...books I planned to write, an open letter to the President (that stayed in my closed notebook), a schedule (that had me getting up at 4:30 am to practice guitar), and all kinds of other odds and ends.

Just for fun, I started to peruse some of my other old journals and such as well. The first journal I have I must have started when I was about seven. In it, I had a list of people that I liked, people that I didn't like, and people who were sort of "in the middle." My parents were on the list of people that I did like, which probably means I had made it through that day without getting spanked. I seem to remember telling Allyson about that time that if she wasn't nice to me I would put her on the list of people I didn't like. As I recall, she took that as a very serious threat.

Anyway, one of the things I browsed through was the list of goals I made for 2005. I found that I had accomplished about half of them. That's rather pathetic, except that I've learned after putting goals on paper like that a few times that I usually accomplish about half of them regardless of how many or how few I set. I figure I might as well set a bunch and hope for the best.

One thing that struck me as I went through pages of stuff that I've written was how much and yet so little of my life has gone according to my plans.

I hate jigsaw puzzles, but I'll use the analogy anyway...it's been neat to see how the Lord has so often taken what looked like a shapeless, meaningless piece of my life and used it to snap together other shapeless, meaningless pieces of my life to do what I never would have thought possible. I still don't have the "box top" and I don't know what it will look like when He's done, but I know that He that has begun the work will be faithful to complete it.

I used my flight back from NH on Tuesday to try to set some new goals. Although some of them are one-year goals, I decided to also make a "five-year plan." It's a delicate process because even with my 50/50 record, I hate setting goals that I don't reach. Sometimes it's hard to maintain the balance between working diligently toward your goals and being flexible.

At the very least, I can look back in five years and chuckle - like I do now at my plan to write a book on getting along with your brother. I no longer keep a running list of people that I like and dislike, but if I did, he'd be on the list of people I like very much. And Allyson would be right at the top. :)

2005-12-24T18:43:00.000-08:00

Here are a few highlights from the past few days...
Caleb getting a little antsy during our gift exchange (we did it a little early this year). So far, the biggest hit with him was a glowing bouncy ball that Charity bought for Paul.

This is a snowman we made in the yard this morning. We named him Rick. Pretty cute, huh? He has been slowly shrinking today since the weather was warm. Paul and I had a short snowball fight after this photo was taken. I won.

2005-12-23T11:07:00.000-08:00

What Do We Do

Now that my family is spread all over the globe, we really look forward to the times when we can all get together. My parents haven't complained yet about the long drive to West Point to pick up Paul. Charity is willing to change planes a million times to get from Florida to Manchester. Erin deals with the adjusting that comes from crossing a dozen time zones, and I'll even give up singing in an ensemble so that I can be home for Christmas.

If you have ever wondered if we all make our long pilgrimage to New Hampshire so we can sit at the dining room table, staring at each other and saying, "Isn't this fun. We're all together!" I want you to know...you're about right.

In June, when we were all home for a few days, we celebrated everyone's birthday, Father's Day, Mom and Dad's anniversary, and had a baby shower for Allyson. Which basically means that we ate a lot of junk, stayed up late, and created a lot of work for my mom, who loves us anyway. Everyone got to pick something for us all to do, so over the course of the week, we went golfing (sort of), yard sale shopping (for a few minutes, anyway), and did foot scrubs...(okay, just some of us on that one), and did some other random and sundry things including climbing in kid toys at the mall and eating desserts at Applebees.

When I came home in October, I got to spend half a day trying to convince the New Hampshire powers that be to let me register a car even though I was not a New Hampshire resident, the car did not belong to me, and there was a defect in the title. Praise the Lord, I was successful without either crying or getting angry. After that, Dad and I made a 12-hour trip to West Point and back in the pouring rain so that he could sleep on our couch for the weekend. But it was all worth it because I got to hold Violet and watch Caleb play with a tractor toy for a while. Before the weekend was over, I also watched "Follow Me, Boys." Now that's a quality waste of time.

Caleb provides a lot of our entertainment when we're home. This trip we have had a lively competition in seeing who can get Caleb to say their name the most times. Paul has an obvious advantage in this, since his is only one syllable. We did get something that resembled "Danielle" out of him a few times, though (it also resembled nanell, aaayaayay, and hippopotamus).

As for this trip...there's a lot I could say, but here are some pictures that will probably say it all and better.

2005-12-17T18:15:00.000-08:00

Say Something Nice

We get all kinds of strange mail at the office, but one particularly noteworthy piece of mail was a little booklet called "Say Something Nice."

The author of this booklet is a PhD and he goes into great detail about the importance of "being a lifter." He not only gives instructions on how to pay compliments (use the person's name, smile, etc.), but he also gives you some suggestions of nice things to say, in case you aren't able to come up with your own - several for each letter of the alphabet. For example: "Your solo was groovy." Or how about "You made a glamourous fairy godmother." One that has come in particularly handy around the office is, "Your intrepid actions brought us the victory!" I haven't yet found an appropriate time to use, "You were really brave to rescue your dog."

Needless to say, we've had a lot of fun with this little book. It is cleverly designed to fit in your breast pocket in case you ever need to whip out the "nice book" and tell someone, "Your emphathetic characterization was gut-wrenching." And you never know, you might land a big case by using "Your ability with crossword puzzles is mind-boggling."

Despite the obvious benefit of the book, we opted not to purchase a copy for all our staff and sponser its distribution in local public schools. Nevertheless, I would agree that there is a lot to be said for "saying something nice" and being a lifter.

I've often noticed in my own life how important praise is...I work so much harder when people are telling me that I make a glamourous fairy godmother. Yet, I'm also learning that I need to do the right thing because it is the right thing, regardless of whether other people notice or comment.

Perhaps one of the reasons I tend to rely so heavily on the affirmation of others is that the people that I'm around are generally encouraging. They don't need the "nice book" to give them ideas for praise. However, in the rare event that I do my best on something and it goes unnoticed, it is good for me to see in what ways I have been focusing on myself instead of striving to bring glory to the Lord. It is the Lord that deserves our praise...not those who sing groovy solos.

2005-12-17T16:19:00.000-08:00

In the News

I got my name in the newspaper this week. Front page of the Monday paper as a matter of fact. Unfortunately, I was out of town, so I didn't actually get to see it in print.

Last week, I spoke at a public hearing of the Charleston County Council to support an initiative to establish a Greenbelt Bank in Charleston. I'd tell you more about it, only, I don't know much more about it except that it is a good idea. That is what I told the Council and that is why I was in the newspaper.

It was my first time speaking at a County Council meeting, but not the last. I got up and spoke again at the end of the meeting just to thank the Council and county staff for all their work. That was well received; I don't think politicians get thanked very often.

Anyway, the intiative did pass and my boss did get his share of praise in the newspaper article (from what I heard), but that was only the end of a long road of criticism and opposition from other politicians and the press. And what I said to thank the Councilmembers, I hope they heard it, because that sure wasn't in the newspaper.

The reason I'm writing this is because it struck me funny how I could end up in the newspaper for doing something as simple as showing up at a public hearing and stating my name and that I think some else's idea is a good one; while other people could work so hard and so long on something and get nothing but criticism. I wonder if President Bush thinks that's funny.

I will end this rambling by simply saying that I hope I learn to thank people for the things they do that generally go unnoticed and unappreciated. And, of course, I hope I do many more things in life important enough to be opposed and criticized, and noteworthy enough not to be in the newspaper.

2005-12-14T15:47:00.000-08:00

Allyson and Kevin's second baby, Violet, was born October 1. I had the privilege of going to visit her when she was about two weeks old and giving her her first baby doll. She didn't care much for me, but I thought she was absolutely wonderful. Caleb is almost 20 months now. He is bursting with energy. Between the two of them, Allyson has her hands pretty full and she's loving it.

2005-11-30T05:21:00.000-08:00

Men in My Life

A few weeks ago, I took advantage of a free evening to visit a new church. While I was sitting alone in a pew waiting for the service to start, the Pastor walked up to me asked my name, and then said, "Are you married?"
"No." I said.
"We'll have to fix that." He said, as if I'd said I had a leaky faucet or a hole in my garage door.
Now, if you ask me, being single is not exactly synonymous with being broken. I guess he's of the mindset, "if it ain't broke, fix it 'till it is."
Pastor Stevens is only one in a long line of well meaning (or just nosy) people who ask about the men in my life...and some times try to go a step futher...
Since I greatly appreciate the efforts of all friends and family members to help me find someone to fix my garage door, I thought I'd make it easy for you and answer the "is there a man in your life question" with something besides my usual...

Of course, there's a guy who I love and who I'd do just about anything for. He's a cute blond, he has blue eyes and a winning smile. He's had my heart for about a year and a half now...I guess it will be two years on April 22 when he turns two. I guess that means he's a little too young to be fixing garage doors. Since he's my nephew I guess he's out of the running anyway.

But as long as we're talking about guys who are not in the running, I'll tell you about the friendly man next door. He came over to find out if the possum he trapped in his garage was mine. He had already "gotten rid" of it, but I didn't need to worry about it too much because he had handled the matter humanely. What a relief.

Yancey. Now there's someone who greatly influenced my life. He laid my kitchen and bathroom floors for me. He called me "honey" and darling," but he was married, and a tattoo-covered, cigarette-smoking kind of guy to boot.
He left his impression one day when I went by the house to see how work was progressing and he informed me that my shoes were ugly. They were fairly new and they were comfortable and practical, but I guess there is just no fogiving ugly. I never wore those shoes again.

Then there is...well...lets just call him our office tech guy. He comes in more often them we would like because our computers beak down more often than we would like. He has an afro and can't sit at my desk to work because he doesn't fit in my chair. He likes to make sure I understand each problem that arises and what he did to fix it. When he talks, it sounds to me like asdf jkl wiojkl jfkl;; awidkc jklwekjfd fjklsdf gjkldfg jfiewfkc cjklfkjew jklfgjkfld fjkleidk sjdfkl.

Then there is Nathaniel. He took me out for fondue over Thanksgiving weekend. I guess you would have called it a date if he wasn't my cousin. We had fun dipping strawberries in a bowl of chocolate and talking about his friend's sister who can't stand to drive with a car window down because she is deathly afraid of flying out the window.

I could go on, but I think you get the idea...there are plenty of men in my life and I'm learning to enjoy it, such as it is. In fact, being single gives me opportunites for all kinds of mischief.

For example, this week I received a card in the mail that I put on my desk at work. It is pink and has a nice spray of roses with the words "Please give me another chance" on the front. You should see the eyebrows it raises and the people who try to nonchalantly sneak a peak at it when they think I'm not looking. What a surprise they have in store for them when they find out it's from the phone company.

So anyway...I hope this helps satisfy your curiousity...or at least wets your appetite. And if you really want to help, feel free to send me another card to put on my desk. The more romantic the better.

2005-11-28T04:49:00.000-08:00

Morning in Charleston...

I drive over the Ashley River every morning on my way to work. This morning it was overcast and there was a light sprinkle of rain coming down. But just as I went over the river, I noticed a small break in the clouds. Our brave little sun was shining through. I could see it across the water, just a bright yellow spot in the large, gray sky.

In moments, I was over the bridge, and I couldn't see it any longer. I was on my way to work...I had things to get done.

My day seemed to have taken its cue from the dismal weather. It was dreary, dull, and long. It was like the drive to work - but without the bright spot.

So that's when I made the decision: Danielle, you be the bright spot. I wasn't the only one having a difficult day, in fact, mine was easy compared to some. So, instead of feeling sorry for myself, I decided to take a new challenge.

Smile. Be grateful. Be glad. Be the sun...be the bright spot shining down over the river.

My resolved lasted until, Oh, about 10:00 am the following morning when my world fell apart (a phrase which herein means, "I received a call from a client informing me that I had made a big mistake on a project.") So much for the sun.

So...the world was gray, dark, big, and ugly until, Oh, about 1:00 pm when a friend made themselves a bright spot in my life. I don't know that their day was going any better than mine, but they had resisted the temptation to be dreary.

Today, the sun is shining and the sky is blue, but I don't think that's any excuse not to strive to be a bright spot in someone else's life. I think that's what Jesus would do.

2005-11-19T09:50:00.000-08:00

"Life is Like a Roll of Toilet Paper"

It was an otherwise uneventful trip to Dallas. Granted, I was only there for one night and the hotel we'd picked turned out to be a major loser. But, even if I'd tried a little harder, I still don't think I would have enjoyed that city.

But there was one redeeming factor. My boss and his wife, whom I was traveling with, had been in contact with author and theologian Dr. Charles Ryrie. They called him up and asked if he was interested in going to dinner with us.

I guess I've not spent true leisure time with any renown pillars of the Church (or whatever you'd title someone like Dr. Ryrie), and I don't know what I was expecting to see. He was a dignified man, around 80. Not stuffy, not conceited, more than willing to spend some time with a few blood-shot out-of-towners like us.

He took us to one of his favorite restaurants. It was an Italian place not far from his house. I probably let out a little gasp when I saw the menu. Maybe, I thought, Dallas uses pesos. But I didn't think so.

A few other people there stopped to talk to him, but for the most part, it was a quiet dinner. We talked a little about his teaching and traveling ministries, his grandchildren, and his books. He made us feel more than comfortable. I worked up the courage to ask him to sign my Bible - even though it didn't have the word Ryrie on it. By then end, we were feeling at ease enough to split chocolate cake.

After dinner, he invited us upstairs to his home. It was a quite place, full of art and other curiosities. He had shelves of books and they weren't the type thing you see in Christian book stores today. They were mostly "classic" theology. Browsing around his house made me realize how much material for study the Bible has in it and how little I've read.

There are an incredible number of books he has authored. He gave Curtis and Jenny each a book. He gave me a copy of "Miracles of Jesus" and signed that for me too.

Dr. Ryrie said one particularly noteworthy quote. "Life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer you get to the end, the quicker it seems to go by."

There's a lot you can say about a quote like that, but I'll end with this, I think someone who has devoted that much of their life to the study and application of Scripture has nothing to fear from the end of the roll. And as my life gets slowly used up, I hope I spend lots of it with men like Dr. Ryrie and not much of it in Dallas.