Lesson Learned

My birthday is this week. I'm feeling way better about it than I have the last two birthdays. This is true mostly because I feel way better about myself than I have -- well, for years, I guess. (Don't ever move to a new town, flood, get sued, watch a family member die, then glue your marriage back together in a few successive years -- it's murder on your body and your psyche). Chris Campbell recently wrote that he was slightly jealous of the ACU freshman moving in. Not me, man. I am so much more comfortable in my own skin (albeit quite a bit looser and wobbly skin) than I was then.

There's lots I've learned in the last . . . lots of years since entering college.

• I really don't have to prove myself to anyone. My kids haven't quite bought into this, but I have and that's all that matters!
• Procrastined tasks don't get any more pleasant with time.
• Blue jeans do not fit actual humans. Okay, they may fit men -- because I haven't had this conversation with any men -- but of my friends that range in size from size 2 to size 22 I haven't found any of them that can purchase a pair of jeans off the rack that fits. If you see anyone wearing jeans that look like they were made for that person -- they probably were.
• A person's willingness to perform any volunteer activity is generally directly disproportionate to that person's ability to perform said volunteer activity.
• People are most defensive when they feel their pride/ego/dignity is on the line. Give them the opportunity to hang on to that, and they'll pretty much work with you.
• It actually IS possible to have too many refrigerator magnets.
• We try to teach our children not to think the world revolves around them -- but we never really learn that lesson, either.
• If you're at the back of the store and realize you should have gotten a cart, DO NOT grab one that is empty just hanging around. It was abandoned for a reason. It is posessed by demons. Make the trip to the front of the store to get a "fresh" one (that is only mildly posessed by demons).
• THINK VERY CAREFULLY before actually writing anything down. I learned this one this week.

I'm sure there is much more that I have learned but my new job seems to keep my brain cells from working on a regular basis -- much like the fancy-schmancy computer system they have there! I do think that "older" frequently goes with "wiser" for a reason. For the moment, I'm perfectly happy being both!

Equal Time for Ashley

First, to some of my new blog-readers via heartlight, WELCOME! If you're still reading that means you extended a little bit of grace to me from reading some of my more careless remarks and biting humor. To my 3 faithful blog readers, I'm sure you are thinking, "Doesn't Sarah have 2 children? Is she always this one-sided in her bragging?" To explain Ashley and why she gets so little press I have to tell one last Riley story. Two or three weeks into his kindergarten year we were all talking at dinner about our day. We were taking turns telling what was the best part of our day. Riley's best part of his day was that he only had to move his clip (disciplinary action) one time all day. I was incredulous, "You have moved your clip more than once every day until now?!?!?!???" Very proudly, he responded, "Yep, and only ONCE today!" Ashley was pretty incredulous, as well. Since Riley was 2 or 3 weeks into kindergarten, Ashley was 2 or 3 weeks into 2nd grade. In those 75 weeks she had been going to school she had moved her clip exactly once in first grade, she maintains her innocence in that infraction to this day, and it was the biggest trauma of her life. Kids like Ashley are a joy to raise, but don't create nearly as much writing material as the Rileys of the world.

Ashley is so many things that I'm not and so many things that I admire. One is a leader. When she was in pre-school Troy and I called her the Pied Piper. You would see a string of kids of all ages at church marching hither and yon and following the orders of a tiny little Goldilocks. That was Ashley. Now she doesn't mean to be a leader, but she sure-shootin' isn't going to be a follower. I wasn't like that at all at her age. I would have eaten any amount of Fear Factor food in the hopes that you would like me for no guaranteed amount of time. Very pathetic, isn't it? Ashley is very sure of herself. Clothes are NOT a big deal to her (again -- very unlike me). She wears what she likes -- and I haven't quite figured out what constitutes what she likes. I think her clothes are sentimental to her. She likes the t-shirt from the basketball camp she went to two summers ago, never mind that it's almost too small and has a chocolate milk stain on the front and a ketchup stain on the back (I don't want to know how). Troy and I have marveled at all of the precious little "girly-girls" (as Ashley refers to them) that think of Ashley as their big buddy. We notice that they must be able to overlook the whole clothing situation.

Ashley is a great audience to Riley because I think that laughing is simply one of her favorite things to do. And since laughter is "music to Riley's ears" they make a pretty good team. She also has the most tender heart. She loves people of all ages and stages and, like her mom and nonna, can't allow anyone to cry alone. She generally has to join right in.

My favorite Ashley story that sums up her heart is from shortly before she started kindergarten. Troy and I have very prayerfully and carefully chosen to educate our children in public schools. As the beginning of kindergarten was approaching I thought I should prepare Ashley for some of what she may encounter in school. We have always taught our children that God loves everyone and wants us all to follow Him, but He loves us so much He gives us a choice and some people don't choose to follow God. I told Ashley that some of the children in her class may never have gone to church or their mommies and daddies don't choose to follow God so there may be children in her class that didn't know God. Her eyes lit up with the perfect solution, "Well, then I will gather them all around me and tell them." Case closed. And while I'm not sure whether there has ever been a formal lecture involving The Almighty to any of her classes, I know that they see Him in her actions. I have a lot to learn from that girl.

Sing-Along

Last night we went to the West Texas Fair for dollar-ride night. The crowd wasn't too bad (only broke families go to the fair on a Monday night), the weather was GREAT, and a grand time was had by all. Of course, all that was shot as we tried to get in bed at a reasonable time while Riley and I discuss (argue) that yes, he can have a band-aid on that unbelievably small abrasion on his elbow but AFTER he has a shower so of course the weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth follow. All of this occured as Troy is out of town and on the other end of the phone trying to put everyone in a good frame of mind for bed. It's way too late for that. Finally, though, everyone seemed to have settled down enough for me to risk walking into bedrooms.

Riley was just getting his little mound of covers settled and said, "Help me finish this, Mom: 'From the lakes of Minnesota, to the hills of Tennessee, across the plains of Texas, from sea to shining sea. . .' What comes after that, Mom?"

I finished up for him, "From Detroit down to Houston, from New York to L.A., well there's pride in every American heart and it's time we stand and say. . . "

"Okay, I know the rest."

I tucked him in and left him singing "Proud to be an American" in the dark. Don't you think we all could stand a verse or two of that? As the utility crews are rolling into New Orleans and churches continue to be the best hope for providing for needs in Louisiana and Mississippi, why don't you join me in the chorus:

And I’m proud to be and American,
Where at least I know I’m free.
And I wont forget the men who died,
Who gave that right to me.
And I gladly stand up, next to you
and defend her still today.
Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land,
God bless the USA!!

Editor's note: This blog entry dedicated to Tony Timms, Searcy, AR.

Riley the Comedian

As I mentioned in Riley's Aspirations, one of his goals in life is to be a comedian. If our family is any indication, he is well on his way. A few weeks ago I said, "Riley, you make me laugh." He got a big, self-satisfied grin on his face and replied, "Mom, that is music to my ears." If you have known me for a while you know that I generally have a "Riley story". I actually had forgotten one until someone else mentioned it this weekend:

Riley and I stayed home from church when he had a sore throat one Sunday night. Ashley was at Bible Bowl and Troy went to praise team practice. Trying to get a glimpse into his ever-growing spiritual self, I questioned him about ways he may want to be involved in a church body:
"Riley, how do you want to be involved in church when you get a little older? Would you like to be a singer, like Daddy, or. . . " (pause as I realize maybe he doesn't want to follow in his father's musical footsteps, and trying to figure what church work is better suited to his personality).
Riley finishes up for me: "Or, I could be a sitter, like those 5,000 other people!"
What do you say to that?

Then there was the time that Riley was fixing his hair in my bathroom as we all scurried to get ready for church. On one trip into the bathroom I glanced at my watch and exclaimed, "Oh my gosh!" Riley continues to do his hair while gazing into the mirror, in a very Arthur Fonzarelli manner, and replies, "I'm not 'oh my gosh!' I'm 'ooh-la-la'." Confidence is no problem. Humility, on the other hand. . .

A thought

Perhaps I can save those study-people even more money. I now realize why we, as a nation, are getting fatter every year. Forget the fact that we are spending countless hours in front of our computers (reading Sarah's blog), or that we get the majority of our meals from a sliding window and then eat them in our car . No, we eat them while driving our car and talking on our cell phone.

In my shopping this week I purchased some vanilla and lavendar scented fabric softener. I have some kind of spice-smelling hand soap and vanilla scented lotion. We are getting fatter because we have made everything in our house smell like a chocolate chip cookie and no one can go all day smelling cookies and not have at least one!

I Lied

I can't possibly be totally through with Katrina stories. Riley got a new little boy in his 2nd grade class this week. His name is Ryan. Riley can't tell me much, except that Ryan is from Louisiana and he did leave because of the hurricane. "A tree fell on his house and broke his house." I've been in Texas way too long -- I was thinking of the times that mesquite limbs have broken off and torn up a few shingles on the house. Then I got this picture from dad:


That house is seriously broken. It made me think of poor Ryan, and his sister, Courtney. They are exactly my kids' ages. From the flood, I know that when the parents can't make heads or tails of their lives and situations, it's unbelievably hard on the kids. Ryan and Courtney thought they would be going to 2nd and 4th grades in south Louisiana and now they're in west Texas. I don't know their last names, or why they're here (besides the obvious), but say a prayer for Ryan and Courtney, and the mommy and daddy that have had to change the course of their whole lives.

Britney as Mom

If you've been under a rock for the last 4 months, or maybe just been doing something more important like alphabetizing your spices, you may not be aware that Britney Spears is pregnant. No, Britney's pregnancy isn't exactly at the top of my "news to know" list, but I'm going somewhere with this. She has an interview out in next month's Elle magazine. Excerpts from the article are posted on Yahoo!News today.

Britney plans to have a cesarean because "I don't want to go through the pain. My mom said giving birth was the most excruciating thing she's ever gone through in her life." I could address that on so many levels (like perhaps that means that only grown-ups should be giving birth) but I would just love to chat with ol' Brit for a few minutes:

What are you going to do about taking them to get their shots?

What are you going to do if they become seriously ill or injured?

What are you going to do when they cry unconsolably because the cool kids won't play with them or, worse yet, call them horrible names?

What are you going to do when their Mimi, that they begged God to heal, dies anyway?

Sweetie, the pain of childbirth is just a paper cut and a warm-up for the thousands of ways those precious angels hurt your heart. And I'm not even to the teenage years.

This Just In!

Okay, I was going to be finished with Katrina blogs, but then I heard on the NBC Nightly News that democrats are calling for a 9/11 Commission-style investigation into what went wrong and who is to blame here. Now that I have quite an audience of blog-readers, some who don't know me personally -- I will give a disclaimer that I in no way think that any human deserves the conditions that occurred in NOLA last week. It is a tragedy of the worst proportion. That said, allow me to save the taxpayers several million dollars on what a 9/11 Commision-style investigation would find. In summary:

When people put their lives in the hands of Louisiana politicians, Katrina and it's aftermath is about the best you can hope for.

There. In lieu of the millions of dollars you would have spent on that study, I will offer that conclusion for the bargain price of $750,000. Contact me for where to deposit.

I have also found that Katrina has given parents new lecture material: "There are children sleeping on cots in the Astrodome that got a Salvation Army dinner (it helps that the Stirman family has received a few of those) that just WISH they had a dining room table to clear off or dishes to unload from the dishwasher!!" Parenthood has no boundaries to the depths it will stoop.

This concludes the majority of my blogging on Katrina. Great things are happening and entire websites are devoted to that. Check in here for such superficial discussions as: does anyone really brew tea anymore?

Relief efforts

Would someone please ask Jason Barnard if it's okay if I post some of his emails -- 'cause I am!

I'm sure the men that travelled to south Louisiana this weekend can verify that there is simply so much to do. I'm also sure it's tempting to do nothing. I've seen blog after blog of efforts to help folks. Little pockets of people being Jesus to hurting people. "Believing Thomas" from Mississippi can tell you how people can help. "Out Here Hope Remains" is a minister in Mississippi and also has opportunities for help -- in his home as well as his church building. These folks and lots more have stories to tell of servants coming their way. Jason Barnard reported some from the weekend trip:

There was plenty for us to do but we were frustrated in not knowing who to help
first. We ended up cutting trees off of homes and and out of the yards of
brothers and sisters. We delivered generators from WFR relief ministries. We
were unable to bring enough gas for them to operate long. The gas lines at the
few stations that are operating are unbelievable. The damage was mind-boggling
considering cost and how much life has changed for them.

I was very impressed with the Tammany Oaks preaching minister, Todd Voght. You could tell he was great at counseling and praying with those who were distraught. Their needs are overwhelming. Messages we were asked to convey from Slidell and Mandeville were that they had plenty of food and water at this time. They need people that can come with campers(self-sufficient), electrical knowledge, GASOLINE!!(to go home on and LEAVE), Ice, chainsaws, rope, ladder, etc. Tractors with front-end loaders would be very helpful in some areas. Bobcat skidders would be very useful as well. They are busy and overwhelmed. One elderly lady needed someone with special equipment to remove the tree off her house. One guy wanted to charge her $4,500!!!! If someone has a cherry picker or that type of equipment
it would be very useful in the Mandeville area. I didn't see the Slidell area
because we were told that you couldn't enter. The brothers from Slidell that
came over and got supplies from us said that is not true. We already had some
commitments and couldn't help them. They said brothers and sisters who had 6
inches of water in their homes were thanking God that it was not 7. Those who
lost their homes were thanking God that they didn't lose their lives. . .
.

So many seem to be in disbelief at the amount of work that is needed
with this catastrophe. We were sad that we couldn't do more and Micah Harper(one
of our elders) challenged us to remember that in this disaster each one of us
can only do a little but as we continue to unite God will do so much more. Let's
encourage one another to do what we can with love for our Father and for one
another. Let's be very thankful. Those of us who went down to Mandeville feel we
have returned to a paradise. Thank God for coffee, water from a faucet, sewage
system, gasoline lines that do not require a half a days wait, hot food, a bed,
and air conditioned shelter to rest where there is no fear of looting.

May God
Open Our Eyes in Knowing How Best To Share That Temporary Paradise with
Others.

Jason Barnard

Forsythe Church of Christ

P.S. There are numerous great
ministries assisting the many efforts to bless those who are suffering from
Hurricane Katrina. If you desire to send funds to assist our efforts, our elders
are willing to oversee those funds being channeled to the numerous needs that we
continue to encounter. Contributions can be sent to Forsythe Church of Christ
Hurricane Relief 2101 Forsythe Avenue, Monroe, LA 71201

People are still going and coming from devastated areas -- leaving jobs and families to help people that need it. Keep those people and their families in your prayers as you pray for the victims, as well as the guidance to know what God is calling you to do.

Forsythe Responds

What are you doing this Labor Day weekend? Camping out? Big barbeque plans? Maybe even a little dove hunting? I noticed we were all fairly silent on my "what are you going to do about it?" blog. But Forsythe Avenue Church of Christ, my congregation where I grew up, is jumping in. Jason Barnard, the youth minister there, sent out this email late last week:

Attention those wanting to assist the Mandeville(Immediately North of Lake
Pontchatrain) community: One of the Elders at Forsythe church of
Christ traveled down there yesterday from Monroe. He sent this
message to me"There is plenty of work to do for able bodied men (mainly getting
trees off the houses)." Ronnie is a very humble and
honest man that would not have said this if there wasn't a significant
need. He is an electrical engineer and will be organizing our labor when
we get down there. He stated that we can enter St. Tammany Parish and that
there has been some miscommunication about that. I am organizing our team
here too and will be communicating to the different relief ministries and
churches that will be helping support our efforts.

Things we need our men to bring are: Gas Cans(filled with
Gas), chains saws, ladders, rakes, ax, ropes, cots for yourself to sleep on, ice
chest with food in it to take care of yourself but requires no refrigeration as
there is no electricity. FEMA is giving out MRE vouchers for ice and water
to people. Make sure you have a full tank of gas in your car -- you can
get gas in Tallulah before leaving Louisiana. If you have trucks also get
gas for the chain saws. We will try to consolidate our people into as few
vehicles as possible so we can have plenty of fuel.

We will leave tomorrow morning at 7:00 am from the church building
at Forsythe. We plan on returning Sunday evening. If you have
Walkie Talkie's please bring those to aid us in communication. Members
from Forsythe, WFR, University, Calhoun, Lake Providence, Jackson Street and
other congregations are planning to make the trip. Don Yelton from WFR
Relief is checking on getting us supplies. Relief ministries from
Nashville will be there Sunday with supplies. Hopefully a generator
of significant power for the Tammany Oaks church building will be able to
surface.(I believe Don is checking on this.) We will be
sleeping at the Tammany Oaks Church of Christ building in Mandeville.
It is a new facility without power or damage.

If you can't participate please do not feel bad. We just want to
share this information and invite anyone that desires to participate
in this blessing. I used to work at this congregation and organized
numerous events with their elders. I was richly blessed by this
congregation and want to help. They need us.

So if you are spending Labor Day weekend on the lake or at the pool, say a prayer for the gentlemen (I think they're all men) that are spending their Labor Day weekend away from their families, with chainsaws all day so that they can sleep on a pew, cot, or floor in a building without power. Thank you, guys, for being the hands, feet, and backs of Jesus to those people. While my minor flood didn't leave me without any earthly possessions, I know what it is to know some things will only be accomplished through the grace of other people, and how overwhelmed and humbled you are to receive such grace.

"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.' Then the the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'

The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'"

Matthew 25: 34-39

Now What?

Denise -- get a blog! :-) Obviously emotions are running high about the aftermath of Katrina -- from the horrors on the news to what we pay at the pump. So what do we do now? No, I didn't ask what should the government do or where have they failed? I mean, we each have plenty of passion and emotion about it. What will I do with that? Gripe about a lack of government intervention? I'm tempted to gripe about people who live in a bowl that requires 3 pumps on a dry day to keep them dry continuing to live there. But that isn't very productive. My dad, an elder at Forsythe Avenue Church of Christ in Monroe, LA, says that the elders and ministers there are praying for eyes to see what needs to be done. Today a man walked into my dad's real estate office looking for a house to rent -- he and his wife had left New Orleans and lost everything and they need a house now.

Do you have a plan? How will you put your energy and frustration to work to help these people?

Observation

People standing in 98* heat that feels like 103* while pumping $2.80/gallon gasoline are not at their nicest.

News of the Day

Two words noticeably absent from my blog this week are "hurricane" and "Katrina". I seem to be gaining "blog audience" daily, so if you are new to my blog -- welcome, but you are about to see a not-very-pretty side of me. Some of you know that my house flooded 3 years ago. A flood that, for Abilene, Texas, was pretty bad. 600 homes and many businesses affected. It was a big inconvenience for about 8 months. It didn't come anywhere close to Katrina. Few things in history have, evidently. I have seen very little news -- partly because of meetings and work, etc., but partly because I just can't take it on. It's just too big. Like the tsunami disaster last December. There are heartbreaking stories at every moment. To be quite honest, the main thing I feel about it is anger. I guess it's all part of my grieving over the enormity of it. I'm in the anger stage. I also feel enormously guilty for simply turning off the TV or not reading the paper to get away from it. Some people have lost their lives and some people's lives are devastated and forever altered, and I just want to turn away from it.

I have no words of wisdom, no deep insight about lessons learned, no great ideas to reach out to the devestated communities. I only know to pray. And even then, I pray that the Spirit intercede for me because I'm sure my words are inadequate.

What's Old is New?

Phrases I have literally heard in the last year:

• (age) 50 is the new 30 (The Today Show)
• Pink is the new black (Nathaniel Jones - and fashion magazines! :-)
• Green is the new brown (Most of the Abilene Jr. League)
• (age) 70 is the new 55 (current Reader's Digest)

Um, is there a 'reset' button on all of this? What happens when black becomes the new pink? Will it be black again? So what about people that are currently 30? Do they stay that way for 20 years?

Whether or not there is an actual 'reset' button, please do not speak to me in what "is the new" what. Half the time I can't even find my keys -- there certainly isn't room in my brain to keep all of that straight.

Blogger day off

I have no wit or wisdom. I have no gross observations. I have a headache and lots of dust bunnies. Okay, I may have a wee bit of wisdom. Despite what they are playing on Nickelodeon or the Disney Channel, the kids will watch "golden oldies" if they are made available. The biggest hits of the stocking last Christmas were "The Lucy Show" and "The Andy Griffith Show" DVD's. Who knew? Riley still can't get enough of ol' Barney.

Observations

When the dog is violently ill indoors and you are the only witness (which means you have to clean it up) and all of your own hair creates a clog in the shower drain that necessitates you clean it out and both of these things happen before 7:15 a.m. -- you may as well go back to bed.

Our preacher speaks of (possibly even makes fun of) our "church button" -- that "button" we press to automatically put on our "church faces" and act as if all is well and great with us. Instead of activating our "church button" he encourages us to be real with each other and let our guard down. My rather large church is also having a push/ campaign to encourage us to be warm and welcoming to all of our visitors. There are days when I can either be real, or I can be warm and welcoming. There are some days that the two simply don't coincide. Especially when the dog is sick and I unclog the shower before church.

Riley's Aspirations

Riley (playing with some of Mom's old stamps from when she was a teacher): I want to be a teacher when I grow up.

Mom (wearily from in front of the computer): Okay.

Riley: Or a comedian

Riley: Or a rock-climber

What happened to my little punkin' who wanted to be an ice cream truck driver (so he could eat the ice cream) AND a mechanic (so he could fix the ice cream truck when it broke down)? I actually think he could be all 3 of the things he mentioned -- his classes would really appreciate his humor. I'm not too sold on the rock-climbing thing, though. Considering the drama we had last week with a skinned elbow, I just can't imagine a serious rock-climbing accident.

Thursday mornings with the Stirmans

My church has a great Wednesday evening praise service. It puts focus back into my week and gets me through -- until Thursday morning, which is as much of a low as Wednesday evening is a high. We frequently stand around and talk on Wednesday nights, leaving our children to run amok and getting themselves hyped up so that sleep is insured to stay away until well after 10 p.m. On evenings when Troy is traveling the delay is even longer as we must spend about 30 minutes on the phone telling him 'good night'.

All of this activity makes for a SLOW Thursday morning. I let the kids sleep in just a few extra minutes. When I do try to wake them, there is so little movement I feel like I should check for a pulse. This morning I had this conversation: "MOM! I can't see you!" "No, you can't -- your eyes aren't open." "Oh." At least one child is in tears ("I don't feel good" "I don't want to go to school" "I forgot to bring home my book"). Eventually there is shouting (from dear old mom) because we can't drag our hineys out the door on time. We finally get to school -- me, with smoke pouring out of my ears, them with tears in their bleary little eyes.

Wish we could go straight from Wednesday to Saturday.

The Dead Horse

Okay, I know we're all weary of the 'Aida' controversy, but one of my ACU classmates has an excellent write-up about it. Check out Grant Boone's blog -- plenty of controversy for one and all, written in Dr. Seuss style! Grant was evidently in the midst of this when my letter to the editor was published. Too funny!

Observation

If living with a 13-year-old girl is any more of a roller coaster than living with a 9-year-old girl, would someone please send me some boarding school brochures?

Junie B.

We need to take a break from political and theological discussions, don't you think? At Mike Cope's Blog there is a wee bit of mud slinging and a LOT of passion on Mike's stance on certain theological points. At Amanda's Diary of a Transplant Patient (I started to call her my friend Amanda -- and she is even though I only have seen her in that precious picture on her blog) Amanda brings up a great question regarding the health and wealth gospel. My brain is tired. Let's do a little juvenile fiction reading, shall we?

If you haven't had someone you love in first grade in the last 5-7 years, you may not know Junie B. Junie B. Jones, that is. She is a mess. A fictional character, and quite a character. Author Barbara Park does a fabulous job of having Junie B. wear her feelings on her sleeve with words of a first grader. In the book "Junie B. Jones and that Meanie Jim's Birthday" Junie has just left a party in her classroom. She and her friend Grace are riding home on the bus talking about how great the party was when "a meanie boy named Jim" jumped into the conversation. Jim and Junie B. begin arguing about who can have the best party and "that meanie Jim" is elaborating on what a great party HE will have. Junie B. concludes a tirade about how that wouldn't be a great party with :

"And so I wouldn't even come to your stupid party in a jillion billion
years."
"Good!" hollered that Jim. "I'm glad! 'Cause my
birthday is this coming Saturday! And tomorrow I'm bringing invitations to
every single person in Room Nine! Only not to you! You're the only
one in the whole class I'm not bringing an invitation to! So there!"
Then he did a big HAH! right in my face.
And he sat back down in his seat.
Meanwhile, I just kept on standing and standing
there. 'Cause something had gone a little bit wrong here, I think.
I tapped on his head.
"Yeah, only here's the thing," I said. "I
didn't actually know you were having a party on Saturday. And so, good
news. . . I think I can make it."
"No!" shouted that meanie boy. "You're not
coming! Now go away!"
I tapped on him again.
"Yeah, only I was just kidding about the ponies,"
I said. "They hardly even stomple you probably."
"I don't care! Stop bothering me!" he
shouted.
I stood on my tippy-toes and looked at his
head.
"Love your hair today," I said.
That Jim swatted at me.
"Get away from me!" he hollered. "You're not
coming to my party! And that's final!"
Just then a big lump came in my throat. A
big lump is what comes before crying.
It hurt to swallow.
I sat down and hided my face in my sweater.
"Darn it, " I said. "'Cause I think I really
would have enjoyed myself at that thing."
Then my bestest friend named Grace put her arm
around me.
And she patted me real gentle.
And she let me sit next to the window. (end of
chapter 2)

Do you just love Grace in this? Grace sat right there while Junie B. got in huge trouble with her mouth (which is why I identify with Junie B.) Then she was there while Junie B. tried to get out of trouble. When Junie B. failed at getting out of trouble Grace could only pat and let Junie B. sit by the window. My friend Roxanne (signs her posts 'R-') is a patter. I confess I have yelled at her about it, too (remember I've known Roxanne through my worst days -- like high school!) I think the root cause of me not liking it is because she really does have great timing with her pats -- which would mean they would bring the tears I was working so hard to stop. Roxanne would have let me sit by the window, too.

My letter to the editor

If you are a blog-reader not living in Abilene, Texas, you may have missed a recent ACU controversy regarding the homecoming musical the theater department had chosen. It boils down to: NAACP -- 4 months into rehearsals -- realized that a white girl had been cast to play a Nubian (African) princess in the homecoming musical, 'Aida'. Hackles were raised, letters to the editor were written, tensions were rising. Adam Hester, director of the play, ditches those 4 months of rehearsal so as not to rub salt in any wounds. Letters to the editor continue to fly back and forth. It's a mess and very sad. If you want more detail, go to Mike Cope's blog -- he has his own editorial, as well as links to relevant newspaper articles. Late last week it was announced that 'Seussical' would replace 'Aida' (musical based on Dr. Seuss' stories and characters). I wrote the following letter to the editor which, to my knowledge has never been published which tells me one of several things: a) editor disagrees with it too strongly b) editor finds it too inflammatory (I suspect this is not the case -- they seem to like inflammatory in that department) or c) editor is weary of beating the dead horse that is the 'Aida' controversy (which is, I suspect, closer to the truth). But, since you are privvy to this most insightful blog you get to read it anyway!

I would like to commend Adam Hester and ACU's Theater Department for taking the
high road in replacing the musical 'Aida' amidst controversy. I can't wait
to take my family to see the homecoming production of 'Seussical' not only to
see another fabulous production from that department, but to show my
support. As further evidence of my support, I would like to volunteer my
services to Mr. Hester to assist him in locating ACU students that have blue
skin or who are bright red with colorful feathers growing out of the top of
their head to fill the roles in Seussical. These students, as well as the
green students with orange polka-dots, will allow Mr. Hester to stop that silly
practice of casting a play on talent instead of skin color.

(Sarah's note -- 8/23/05: My letter was published this morning in the Abilene Reporter-News. Let the rotten eggs start flying at my house!)

We Made It!

First week of job/school are under my belt! *whew* Job is going okay -- the first 3 days were training, then Thursday and Friday I got to actually try to accomplish some things, which only highlighted that I have no clue what I'm doing. Chalk it all up to "lesson learned", right?

Troy and I had 'date night' last night. Perhaps not the best night for that. I was ready to stare into space and/or sleep. We went to see a really cute movie, though. "Must Love Dogs" was REALLY good (Troy and I both enjoyed it) and made me REALLY thankful I don't have to endure the dating scene right now. Yikes. My favorite quote, again with some not-too-nice language, was when Elizabeth Perkins (playing Diane Lane's sister) was encouraging Diane Lane to "go for it" with one guy -- who happened to be the father of one of Diane Lane's pre-school students: "He's got a Ph.D. AND a great ass. Let's not get dragged down by ethics." The only thing that drives me NUTS about movies like that (and most TV shows) -- where are these people getting their money? Diane Lane lived in a PRECIOUS historical home that was thoroughly modernized and updated, and had the most fabulous Talbot's-ish type wardrobe -- and she's a divorced pre-school teacher and later it is revealed that her ex-husband is a fireman! Sadly enough, we all know that firemen are not made of money. Anyway, allow my materialism to shine through at this moment (and my envy of other people's STUFF) and say that drives me crazy.

*****************************************

Mike Cope has an interesting discussion launched on his blog (he usually does). Much of the comments are about Harding's policy of who can and who can't come speak, but Mike has some great comments about people (perhaps like myself) who are WAY too into politics:

Believe it or not, I know lots of people who can become apoplectic when
talking about Ann Coulter, Al Franken, Fox News, federal judges, and George
Bush—but who seem to yawn when talking about discipleship, materialism, justice,
and racism. They give time and money to their CAUSE (liberal or conservative);
but won’t share the good news of Jesus with the people they work with.

Cope's blog is always worth a read, and this one really has me interested. Read this post here.

Memo to the Teachers

Dear Mrs. Moser and Ms. Martin:

Thank you for giving my children a reprieve from homework this week. It has aided our transition to school to establish our own routines before we have to add homework to the mix. Or the kids' homework at least. Here is a summary of what I have been obligated to complete this week:

Monday

• Emergency Information Card for each child
• PE information and permission slip
• Field trip permission slip that, as I read it, entitles you to take my children anywhere at anytime for any trip that you deem educational. Will I be notified if you plan to leave the state?
• Immigrant Worker Survey
• Homeless Survey

Tuesday

• Student Code of Conduct. ( I know I signed that I read it, but I didn't really)
• Internet permission form

Wednesday

A blessed day off

Thursday

• PTO requested that I cough up names of friends and family so that some magazine company may send solicitations to them. (If I gave your name, please throw it away -- but it enabled my children to receive some plastic piece of junk that will be broken before we get home from school today).

I am requesting a reprieve from my own homework for the weekend. And I am so thankful this is a school where my children have been attending for 4 years so that I do not have to produce a blood sample, my mortgage paperwork, and all utility bills we have ever received.

Sincerely,

Ashley and Riley's mom

Okay - have we all seen the new thing in computer 'spam'? They're leaving it on blog comments now. There is a special place in the after-life for these people -- right between the people that invented those plastic CD holders that come on CD's that you purchase and the people that are "doing it wrong" in the school drop-off lane!

I Love To Tell The Story

I love to tell the story of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory,
of Jesus and His love.
I love to tell the story,
because I know 'tis true;
It satisfies my longings as nothing else can do.
I love to tell the story,
'twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.

I love to tell the story; more wonderful it seems
Than all the golden fancies of all our golden dreams.
I love to tell the story, it did so much for me;
And that is just the reason I tell it now to thee.
I love to tell the story,
'twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.

I love to tell the story; 'tis pleasant to repeat
what seems,Each time I tell it,
more wonderfully sweet.
I love to tell the story, for some have never heard
The message of salvation from God's own holy Word.
I love to tell the story,
'twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.

I love to tell the story, for those who know it best
Seem hungering and thirsting to hear it like the rest.
And when, in scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song,
'Twill be the old, old story that I have loved so long.
I love to tell the story,
'twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.

We sang this last night at our 'function'. First time I've heard it or sung it in years. Since I had just written my blog about how far Troy and I have come in the last year, I thought of it in a new light. "The Story" isn't the flannelgraph story of Jesus with the fishes and loaves or even healing a blind man. "The Story" is MY story -- of unseen things above; Of Jesus and His glory' Of Jesus and His love. I do have a story of God's grace and healing and God's power in my life. And I do love to tell it. I finally listened carefully to the last verse and realized how powerful it is.

And when, in scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song,
'Twill be the old, old story that I have loved so long.
I love to tell the story,
'twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His
love.

Morning drop off

School started yesterday. All of my plans and schemes for a morning routine and to get out the door on time -- blah, blah, blah. And God said, "Ha!" We were to leave at 7:45 a.m. At 7:45 it is raining in sheets. Our family owns one umbrella. Is it anywhere to be found? I searched the top 3 places and then just decided to grab my raincoat and the kids could drip. 7:50 -- finally in the car. Ashley was doing something for me and set her lunchbox down. She returns to the house to get her lunchbox while the neighbors' cat wanders into the garage. In putting my raincoat into the passenger seat, I knocked my keys off of the console where they had been sitting. Can't find them ANYWHERE. I heard them 'thunk', know they are still in the car, but can't see them. 7:55 -- return to the house for a flashlight to search for keys while Ashley tries to wrestle and bribe the cat out of the garage. Cat seeks shelter under my car. 8:00 -- keys are located, cat still in garage, Sarah stroking out in driver's seat. And we're off. (No, I didn't run over the cat in the process, but did lock him in a pitch-black garage for a few hours).

We weren't late, but drop offs at schools are just a nightmare. If a principal takes a very pro-active stance in directing traffic, sometimes it's not TOO awful, but I haven't seen any Abilene principals willing to do that (and I can't really blame them). And I admit that nothing brings out my need for other people to conform to MY way of thinking like school pick-up and drop-off. If we would all do it my way -- considerate of other drivers as well as concerned for the children's safety -- well, I don't know if it would go any better, but I would be happier and that should be what this world is based on, right?

Then I started my job. So far, so good. Lots of training and new acronyms. Whatever. My favorite office orientation statement was, "Undergarments should be discreet but not absent." As my director says, "You can laugh, but all of these originated with someone!" Oh -- for anyone I have failed to officially inform, I am working part-time for Big Brothers Big Sisters of West Central Texas. That's about all I can tell you now -- until I've figured out what it is I'm actually doing.

Tonight I have a lah-dee-dah dinner for Troy's work. Actually it's more of a ho-hum dinner. The lah-dee-dah one(s) is in February. It just calls to mind where he and I were last year at this time. I remember that as we dressed for this dinner we were calmly discussing whether or not our marriage was even worth the hassle of working on it (we had been working on it for some months at that point). Our basic concensus was that it may or may not be worth it, but a divorce is just so nasty and costly maybe we could work it out. Truly, that's all we could come up with. God has done so much and healed so much in both of us. I am so thankful for His mighty hand in my little bitty, generally ungrateful life. Thank you, Lord, for your faithfulness when we thought we would drown. Thank you, Troy, for fighting for our family. I am blessed many times over.

More post-exercise observations

• I've never run by this house when it was as dark as it was this morning to notice the house with the 3 neon signs that are some sort of beer advertising. They are inside the house but glow warmly all the way to the street. Do you suppose that's the room where they have their small group Bible study?
• In commercials it may look refreshing and invigorating, but if you're going to run more than 100 yards in the rain with wet feet from dodging puddles and your hair dripping in your eyes it's just soggy and irritating.

Bah, humbug! Happy soggy Monday to all.

Back-to-School Eve

Here we are. Like school was never out. This was one of those "non-weekend" weekends, which means not restful in the least, so off I'll go about 5:30 tomorrow morning on my distance-run through Monday.

Yesterday I welcomed 3 extra little girls into my home for the day and it was so much fun. Their daddy, Don D. Hood, is ACU's new track coach. So they stayed at our house while Don and Rachel looked for a house. Don was coaching in Temple when Troy and I were newlyweds and we all went to church together. I'm thrilled that they will be living in Abilene, but the sad reality is that we may see them 6 times a year. I hate when life gets in the way.

Phil had a GREAT sermon this morning on 'firstfruits' living. It spoke to me mainly about time. I mentioned to someone today that I have SOMETHING -- an article, a talk, a meditation -- about 'stewardship of time' brewing inside me. You can always make more money -- Dominoe's will always hire another driver -- but we all only get 24 hours in one day. Our stewardship of our time is every bit as critical, if not more so, as our stewardship of our physical resources.

Several families gathered after church today and blessed our children. It was a very brief blessing as our children are quite young, but it meant a lot to me and each of the parents there to see the support we all have. I spoke to the kids and told them that we all -- all 13 parents that were there -- are on their side, pulling for them, praying for them, cheering them on. It was a great time and I pray becomes an annual tradition for us.

I also met a lady at church today that has blessed me many times over. She's me, just having gone down a different path. She and I share passions and 'soapboxes' and mutual friends. It was one of those meetings that you know God has a hand in. I'm eager to see what God will do in our lives.

I must get back to my time with God. The firstfruits sermon spoke to me so strongly because I have simply not given God the firstfruits of my time and energy -- which leaves me frazzled and grumpy. I hate to even say it that way -- I don't want to give God a portion of my time, but I must give Him SOME of my UNDIVIDED, uninterrupted attention and time so that I may see Him and be aware of Him all of the rest of the time. I know that my loving Father has His hand in and around my family and by failing to acknowledge that I am failing to testify to His power in my life and family. I'm rambling -- but if you are inclined to speak a word of prayer for me and my family, please ask that I look to Him first and always and have precious time with Him.

The thunder is rumbling outside reminding me that this is the strangest August I can remember in the 18 years I have lived in Texas. I think the high today was about 85* -- maybe not even that. I met some young man who has come to ACU from Anchorage, Alaska. I told him we tried to be accomodating with the weather so that he wouldn't have a heat stroke! This evening the kids and I went for a short bike ride. It was interrupted by Riley hitting the street and peeling off about a pound of elbow skin. So I walked home -- a little more than half a mile -- rolling a bike on each arm, with Riley crying and whimpering behind me the whole way. As my friend Denise says, "No one does angst like Riley Stirman." It's good to be known for something, I guess.

It is 9:00 and all are in bed -- even Troy (because of the bad weather we have no satellite signal. Is your bill cheaper in the rainy season?) So I will go and hopefully we all will be rested for a big first day!

Praying that your day is full of blessings, as well!

This Morning

I wept when I saw the sunrise this morning. I went to bed sad about poor choices that one person is making and the pain those choices are causing to many others. I slept fitfully, my dreams telling me that my brain was unable to rest from thinking of all the going's-on around me with a new school year, new job, busy season at work for husband, and just the general aches and worries that come from living in a fallen world. I was so thankful to see the bright beams of sun as a promise for a new day.

Such a moment always makes me think of Lamentations 3:22,23:

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."

So thankful for a new day and God's tender mercies that are truly new every morning.

"But I will sing of your strength, in the morning I will sing of your love; for you are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble. O my Strength, I sing praise to you; you, O God, are my fortress, my loving God." Psalm 59:16,17

For the Teachers

I have come across two blogs recently that speak to teachers. One from a principal and another from a retired teacher. They both are beautiful reading and I would encourage you to read both of them. Craig Fisher is a principal, I believe in the Dallas/ Fort Worth area. Judy Thomas is a retired teacher and taught me children's literature lots of years ago at ACU. If you are a teacher, I admit that it is that flowery "You change the world" type writing that you may have your fill of right now as school is starting.

To my teacher friends: You may have doubts that you are changing the world and you know for a fact that you are under-paid. But as Mom to two children enrolled in public school: You are changing the world for my child. You influence what s/he considers acceptable behavior toward his/her peers. You show him/her appropriate things that are funny. You help with hygiene. You listen to stories about my family -- hopefully doubting some of them. You are definitely changing the world, one child at a time.

Mr. Gatti's

I should be sweeping my floor, but instead I shall gripe about the ills of society. We have a Mr. Gatti's here that is enormous and the object of most children's birthday parties. Lots of television viewing and arcade-type games. Last night Troy was out of town so I scrounged enough coupons to only have to pay for myself to go. Of course it's a buffet. As I looked around while in there I realized that many of society's problems can be encompassed all in that one dining experience.

Now, before I go off on my tirade, keep in mind that I was there, the mere thought of the building makes my children immensely happy, and I don't question the spirituality, morality, hygiene, or anything else about the patrons OR employees of Mr. Gatti's.

That said -- look at us all. Here we all are in all shapes and sizes, some of us enormous like tend to frequent buffets, all eating enormous quantities of food while having our brains sucked out by the television. I was sitting in a room with probably 40-50 other people and a 10 foot television screen. Besides Sponge Bob's rant about his career choice at the Crusty Crab, not one word was being spoken in that room. A room full of families (again, my familly was one of them) and we couldn't bring ourselves to have any type of conversation so concerned were we with Sponge Bob's dilemma. Sad, sad. Then, we moved our quality fellowship to the game room where a) the music is so loud even if you could formulate a thought and get it out of your mouth no one would hear it and b) there's no such thing as a video game anymore -- most of them are Introduction to Gambling 101 so that Junior can rack up the tickets and 'purchase' a piece of junk with tickets. It just all makes me sad.

Okay -- that's all I can do on Gatti's. And then there's always the part of me that wishes I had thought of it first. It appears to be a money-manufacturing plant! Good idea. I guess it goes to my Wal-Mart deal. I just can't believe we not only stand for it, but pay through the nose for it at Gatti's!

Finally got to the pool today after on-again off-again summer rain showers yesterday and this morning. Trying to soak up all of the fun and leisure that I can!

Adieu, Summer

Things I will miss about summer:

• My most urgent obligation on most days is getting all of us to the pool, where the children don't fight and I sit with my friends and talk, laugh, and solve the world's problems.
• Getting "dressed up to go out" means finding some shorts that aren't frayed and maybe putting on some eye liner.
• The only time we have to hurry to get everyone out the door is on Sunday mornings; it's not a constant way of life.
• The ice at the swim club (like Sonic's ice).
• A swim suit is my work uniform (and, in my mind, has become acceptable dress at most retail establishments).

Things I will not miss about summer:

• The constant coating of sticky -- melted ice cream, sno-cone juice, popsicle drippings -- that cover most of the doorknobs in my house and a good portion of my car.
• My coiffe' choices are: ponytail or sweaty or both.
• Scorching my hand on car doors or door knobs facing the sun.
• My TXU bill.
• Being hot, hot, hot -- except when I'm freezing, freezing, freezing in the air conditioning (welcome to Southern Hills! :-)

You'll notice that most of the things I will miss are related to a lack of schedule, most of the things I won't miss are related to miserable temperatures that will stick around for the next 6-8 weeks. *sigh* I'll just have to remember what Riley says. When I asked Riley to help me with 'what I will miss' about summer, he had a great response: "What do you mean? There will always be another summer." I like his attitude! Somebody please remind me of that in January.

Exercise Observations:

I noticed a few things on my jaunt around the neighborhood this morning:

• People who drink Keystone Light beer seem to be more likely to litter than any other beverage. Perhaps those dorky "Please dispose of properly" signs on cans and cups have been working and Keystone Light doesn't have one.
• If the people standing in the street can smell your perfume/ cologne while you drive by, YOU'RE WEARING TOO MUCH!
• At precious few homes, you can smell breakfast cooking as you run by (this happens more frequently on Sunday mornings than your average weekday morning). Makes me wonder if people can smell the cereal boxes from outside my house.
• The combination of a driver putting on make-up or a tie, still waking up, with the sun in their face makes for very poor driving (and they have probably noticed that a fatigued runner with headphones on makes a very poor pedestrian).
• I love my run -- after it's over.

Tuesday was my friend, Roxanne's birthday. I have known Roxanne for almost 30 years. Man, that makes BOTH of us sound old. Wish I had a scanner -- I would post our first-grade class picture where we are sitting together. Now I have one leaving first grade and she has one starting first grade. Wonder which of their friends will be friends-for-life? Happy Birthday, Roxanne!

The Difference between Moms and Dads

No, this isn't an anatomy lesson. This really struck me a few weeks ago. On July 4th, Troy was off of work, of course, and we had a fun family day. Early in the day, before it got too miserably hot, we decided to go for a bike ride. The kids and I all have bikes, but our oldest chose not to go on the ride, so Troy used her bike and the three of us went for a ride. Keep in mind that the kids and I have ridden quite frequently together. It basically always makes me a nervous wreck. I spend most of my time coaching on bicycle safety:

"Stay in a single-file line on the right side of the road."

"Slow down at this intersection to watch for cars. They have the stop sign, but make sure they see you."

"Keep your helmet on the top part of your head."

The funny thing is that when I was riding with my husband (who refused to wear a helmet) I should have been saying the same things. I realized that while I feel it is my job to teach my children how to be safe on their bicycles, Troy believes it is his job to teach them how to do a perfect wheelie and how to go 'dirt-biking' over the mounds of dirt at a nearby construction site. In all honesty -- each of those things is important. So I'm thankful that Troy is around to teach such things (I don't think I could ever pull off a wheelie).

I thought the same thing last week on our amusement-park tour. It was my self-appointed job to make sure everyone got enough water to drink, was always with an adult, and didn't eat so much junk that they got sick (which was easy to do since after paying $9 for an icee for everyone, we were done for the day -- I'm not exaggerating a penny). Troy had to make sure that everyone rode at least one thing that was a little bit scary for them, then on Friday he made the most beloved rule of all. After we had both jumped all over youngest for burping quite audibly at the steak house the night before, Troy made a new rule after lunch on Friday: "Burping after meals consumed in an amusement park is okay." After this pronunciation, he proceeded to shake the rafters with his own eructation. The kids were thrilled.

I am so thankful to God for designing this dance we do through life of give / take, push / pull, worry / play as parents. I am so thankful for the man I married to take on his role as bicycle daredevil instructor and roller coaster evaluator.

Tuesday morning, Jack will have surgery on his eye and a port installed (inserted? implanted? stuck in? what do they call that?) for chemo to start later this week to treat the tumors. Please say a prayer for Jack, his doctors, the surgery, the chemo -- all of it. Tammy (Jack's mom) keeps us all posted on Updates on Jack. Check there for details.

Great commercial for Visa CheckCard

Yesterday we returned from the Arlington area. We spent a day at Six Flags, a day at Hurricane Harbor, and yesterday met my family in east Texas so that they could take the kids back to Louisiana with them. More on that trip later. So I would love to use my time without kids and before starting a new job doing some little jobs around the house and getting my home in working order. (almost typed 'working odor' -- may have to do some research on what THAT could mean!)

One of my first stops when I got back to town was the bed and bath store for some things I would need for all of my projects. When I was told what the total for my purchase was, I was pleasantly surprised. I thought something must have been on sale that I didn't realize. Don't you love it when that happens?

Walking out of the store, I checked my receipt and found that they only charged me for one set of curtains when I got two. The lines were all long, so I went on to my other stops in the same shopping center before I came back (and, yes, I considered not going back at all). When I returned to the store (no lines!) I told the lady why I was back and needed to pay for the set of curtains. I joked that it made the first check I wrote a little less painful! She was amazed that I had returned. As I handed her my check she continued to thank me for my honesty, then in the same breath said, "I need to see your driver's license, please."

That made me laugh, but I guess I appreciate that she was making sure some criminal wasn't being honest with MY checkbook!

Blog-hiatus

Our family has scheduled some time together. I'll tell you all about it next week!

Help for the working woman

As you may/may not know, I have a few too many blogs for a normal human. On my recipe blog, we are collecting recipes that are good to freeze to cook and serve later on a busy day. Do you have a good recipe to post? Click here, click on a 'comment' link, and post your recipe! I'll move it to the front and center of the blog to share with all of blog-world!

Funny Bumper Sticker

Seen this afternoon in Abilene, Texas:

"Silly Cowboy, Trucks are for Girls!"

Have you seen any that make you laugh? (that can be posted on a family-friendly blog?)

True Confessions

(get your mind out of the gutter -- this is a family blog. except for my kids -- you're about to understand why)

Have you ever thrown away trash that you knew was valuable trash to a shorter member of your family, then when they searched for it you tried to offer helpful advice: "Did you look under your bed?" "Is it in your brother/sister's room?" "Did you maybe accidentally throw it away?"

You've never done that? Oh, well, me neither, then.

Not much to Blog

I'm feeling overwhelmed in my life. Overwhelmed by the circumstances that other people find themselves in. Just so many hard times. My friend, Tammy, took her son, Jack, to Dallas this week for follow-up after Jack's brain surgery to remove a tumor in May (late April?) The results weren't what any of us had hoped, prayed, or expected. You can keep up with Jack on Updates on Jack. So that makes me sad, and there's just so much else right now in people I know and love. So I may be taking a blogging hiatus. I have much to say, and lots of questions to ask, but none of it is appropriate here. Again, though, it does call to mind a song. When I don't know what to pray, when words don't come, I simply can 'cry out':

I cry out
For your hand of mercy to heal me
I am weak
I need your love to free me
O Lord, my rock
My strength in weakness
Come rescue me oh Lord

You are my hope
Your promise never fails me
And my desire
Is to follow You forever
For You are good
For You are good
For You are good to me
For You are good
For You are good
For You are good to me

He's Always Been Faithful

Since my part-time work is mainly substitute teaching, summer is a time for more creative budgeting. I also teach swim lessons which helps. But, all in all, as long as we have a plan for our money at the beginning of each month, it's no problem. In conversation today, I mentioned that we've got $40 until I get paid for this next set of swim lessons, so I would wait on whatever purchase we were discussing.

The amount of $40 brought to mind a time when things were much different. When we moved to Abilene, we were not financially in a place to be making a move. And Dave Ramsey (my favorite financial guru)says that if you spend all of your emergency cash getting into a house, then Murphy (as in Murphy's Law) is going to come move into your front bedroom. Did he ever. The flood came 6 months after we moved into the house. State Farm took care of us very well, but is required to give that check to the mortgage company. The mortgage company, in turn, parcels out the check in increments as the work on the house is completed. Obviously, this protects the mortgage company's interest as well as ours since, technically, they own way more of the house than we do. So we were paying mortgage and utilities on a home we couldn't live in, a few months of the time we did live here, but had no kitchen, gasoline back and forth, my cell phone was the only phone we had. It all started to add up.

In the middle of this we received notice that we were being sued for several thousand dollars by the people that purchased our home in Temple. We still believe we are/ were right but a court fight would cost more than simply several thousand dollars. It didn't matter -- at the time, we didn't have it.

The eating out, the utilities, the gasoline, the cell phone bill -- we just kept pulling out of savings or putting it on the credit card. Here's where $40 sounded familiar. At one point, we were way over the limit on our credit card and had $40 in savings. I remember telling God -- I don't know how you're going to pull this one off, but I have to have faith that you will. And He did. I'm ashamed that I don't remember exactly how at this point (I think a family member dropped a check in the mail just for funsies).

As my friend Donna Leavelle tells me, "if you have problems that money can solve, then you don't really have problems." I try to remember that, but more importantly I try to remember that He's always been faithful. It calls to mind one of my favorite songs. I have a recording by Zoe Group, but I'm not sure who wrote it. My apologies to the writer because it's gorgeous:

Morning by morning I wake up to find
the power and comfort of God's hand in mine.
Season by season I watch him amazed, in
awe of the mystery of his perfect ways

All I have need of his hand will provide.
He's always been faithful to me

I can't remember a trial or a pain
he did not recycle to bring me gain.
I can't remember one single regret
in serving God only and trusting his hand

All I have need of his hand will provide.
He's always been faithful to me

This is my anthem, this is my song, the
theme of the stories I've heard for so long.
God has been faithful, he will be again.
His loving compassion, it knows no end.

All I have need of his hand will provide.
He's always been faithful to me

May I always remember His faithfulness and testify to His grace.

Favorite Quotes

I'm wiped out. VBS started tonight. I didn't lead little robe-clad children, or even teach them how to make a broom using hay, a dowel, and some string. My job this year was VBS data-entry. I really do enjoy that type work, but I did learn a lesson that can be summed up as: Quattro Pro (database software included in word perfect office) is the spawn of Satan and evil, evil, evil. Microsoft Excel IS indeed excel, as in EXCELlent!! Suffice it to say that I have put all 180 VBS registrants into tribes and in a database twice now. And, I have learned from Donnie Carroll -- you can try, but you can't make everybody happy, and "life goes on." That's why he's qualified to have 7 kids and I'm not (yes, he does -- ages 6 to 24, I believe).

Am I the only one that thinks in sound-bites? I doubt it, because as I rattle off a quote from a movie (from MY era -- Sixteen Candles, Ferris Bueller's, Breakfast Club) someone invariably knows another quote from the same movie (in Abilene that someone is generally Denise -- no wonder you don't remember things that happen in life; your brain is too full of movie quotes and music lyrics!) I've thought about some of my favorites and collected a few of them here. Some of the language isn't what I use on a regular basis -- but I think that's why it appeals to me. It's my altar-ego, in quote form.

This week at one of my girls' night out, we got on a roll about our favorite 'Steel Magnolias' quote. I was raised in North Louisiana, and every character in 'Steel Magnolias' is either me, or someone I know, or a combination of the two. There are two quotes that I think about quite frequently:

"Drum Eatenton, you are a boil on the butt of humanity!" (Ouiser)

"Maybe she's praying because we were gossiping, maybe she's praying because the elastic is shot in her pantyhose." (Truvy, about Annelle)

And there are several others that I use on occasion:

"I am PLEASANT! Damn it!" (Ouiser)

"I'm not crazy, I've just been in a very bad mood for the last 40 years!" (Ouiser)

"He's so confused he doesn't know whether to scratch his watch or wind his butt." (Truvy)

"The only thing that separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize." (Clairee)

Tammy brought up another one I had forgotten:

"Oh, Ouiser, ya know I love ya more than my luggage." (Clairee)

I found lots more -- and laughed out loud all over again -- at this website.

Another quote that I have enjoyed lately is from Gwyneth Paltrow, who I still know little enough about to consider beautiful on the inside and outside (I'm sure there's some dirt out there to tell me otherwise, but don't tell me, okay?) She says:

"Beauty, to me, is about being comfortable in your own skin. That, or a kick-ass red lipstick."

Lately I feel comfortable in my own skin AND I've gotten a (well, you know) red lipstick. I must have it goin' on! :-)

Besides scripture, what quotes roll around in your head?

The Power Of One, Pt. 4

I could probably go on about this forever, but I won't! I think I've already decided what my next soapbox will be (intentionality) and this will lead right into it. Another book I have read didn't really strike me as poignant until I started thinking about it in the light of "The Red Tent" and the influence Jacob was able to have on the generations to come. The book "Outlander" is basically about a woman who accidentally falls into 1743 from 1943. Initially her struggle is to get back to 1943, then her struggle is whether or not she WANTS to go back because she has fallen in love. Her struggle is also on what she knows about history and how she may or may not be able to change it with her knowledge. The thought of changing history disturbs her, as I guess it would any of us. She confides in a priest where she came from and her struggle with what she knows about the future (future from a 1743 perspective). His reply was quite eloquent. She had been an army nurse in 1943 and he pointed out that she very well may have been changing history then -- keeping someone alive who may have otherwise died, for instance. What if that person later had a child that went on to invent great things or cure a horrible disease? She just didn't have the blessing (or curse) of having seen it written only to need it to be corrected. Everything that we do changes the pages of a history book yet to be written.

Since I'm not a nurse or in the medical profession in any way (I gag when my kids have a loose tooth) I'm tempted to think, "Well, that doesn't apply to me -- I'm certainly not saving lives." But I've been around long enough to see the impact my mere words have on people. Anyone's words, really -- helpful or hurtful, words stick with people. Especially children.

I also recently read an article about a grown woman who became terrified of a neighbor woman because she heard the way she spoke to her own children. THAT really spoke to me. Not only my actions, but my words have the power to change history -- if only the history of one person's life. That's so frightening to me considering how quickly words tumble from my mouth -- sometimes with very little thought behind them. I pray that others are as ready with forgiveness as I am with my words!

I have been at this computer most of today -- and I'm too tired to go into how it was all pretty much useless and I'll have to do it again tomorrow on another computer!
Let me just say that I'm the VBS data-entry person. After today, I may be in danger of losing my job!

Everybody have a great Sunday worshipping and fellowshipping!

The Power Of One, Pt. 3

I think this is my favorite character in my "Power of One" topic. I think because I'm figuring out that the "Power of One" doesn't refer to the one person -- it refers to the One God who works through ANY one person. Not you? Well, if God will choose to work through THIS woman, I feel certain He will choose to work through any of us.

We would all call this woman "a loser". That's about as nice as any of us could be -- bless her heart! Sure she had a rotten childhood, but now that she's grown up can't she get her act together, for pity's sake? Now she's been married AND DIVORCED five times. I guess we have to appreciate that she won't even try to make a mockery out of the wedding vows a sixth time since she's living with that guy. Not that any of us have really tried. She's the butt of a lot of jokes in town, and we sure don't want our husbands glancing in her direction.

She's figured out that she's an outcast. It doesn't take a genius to know that no fine, upstanding women would be seen in her acquaintance. And so it was the day she was at the well mid-afternoon when Jesus asked her for a drink. Interesting that he stopped at Jacob's well. Jacob, the one faithful to God that I wrote about earlier. So now, generations later, Jesus strikes up a conversation with her. We don't even know her name.

Jesus knew. He knew all about her life -- and he loved her. She tried so hard to change the subject and argue religion. Jesus would have none of it. Finally, she realized who she was talking to. Knowing Jesus changed her life. And she couldn't help but tell about it. She dropped everything and ran.

Who would you pick to be a missionary to a region that had never met Christ? Would it be her? That's who God used. . .

"Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman's testimony, 'He told me everything I ever did.'" John 4:39

"I Don't Go to Wal-Mart"

If you want people to look at you as if they think you might have said, "I worship at the camel of the fuzzy hindquarters" then tell them you don't go to Wal-Mart. Even if you do. It's so funny! If you know me even a little bit, you're probably aware that I really don't go to Wal-Mart. I have been less strident and obnoxious about this fact this year -- but it is a fact. Inevitably the question comes up, "Then, where do you go?" You can tell how frequently a person goes to Wal-Mart by how soon they ask this question. Some people simply cannot imagine a week without Wal-Mart. Think outside the box, folks. One woman said, in wonder, "I go to Wal-Mart at least three times a week." When I told her I didn't think I had been to Wal-Mart three times this calendar year, she just shook her head in amazement.

I have mis-spoken in the past by simply repeating the mantra, "I hate Wal-Mart!!" And there are things about Wal-Mart that I do, in fact hate (oh, let me count the ways). But, more than anything, I hate that the American public has said, "Yes! Give me horrible service! Give me 50 acres of merchandise with no rhyme or reason as to how it is arranged! Give me law of the jungle type courtesy in customers! Give me poor quality products! I need all of these things so that I can save 15 cents on a box of Tampax!" When I do (rarely) go in Wal-Mart I cannot believe that not only do we, as a public put up with it, we throw millions of dollars at it as a reward. Welcome, Wal-Mart shoppers. . . *sigh*

Okay, I feel better! :-) I have more on my "Power of One" line of thinking, but we are on our way out the door. Troy is on his way back from Dallas and the kids and I are heading to Temple (no, I'm not trying to avoid him -- we both thought this trip to Dallas would last longer than this). Ashley will stay and play with a friend and Riley and I will stay at Mike's and hang out together.

I'm kind of in a summer lull -- haven't read much and I've even backed way off on my exercise. Maybe it's "the dog days of summer". I would really rather just curl up in a cool spot and have a nap!

The Power Of One, Pt. 2

I saw a one-woman play this winter about six of the women mentioned in the geneology of Jesus (I BELIEVE they are the only women mentioned, but I've already showed I'm fairly ignorant of the whole of it). Donna Hester portrayed each of the women in a fairly modern setting in a play entitled, "Iron Apron Strings". (That was the name of the art exhibit -- I think the play, also). It was very creatively done and helped you think of these women as actual women, instead of 'characters'.

The woman she portrayed that has haunted me most is Bathsheba. I guess it's because we know so little about her she remains a mysterious woman, yet a crucial part of history. Let's sum up what we do know about her: she was physically beautiful, she followed the King's orders when he summoned her, she knew she was in a compromising situation when her husband had been away at war for months and she learned she was pregnant, and scripture tells us that when she learned that Uriah was dead, "she mourned for him." That's about it. I've heard speculation and presumption that she was a loose woman because she was even bathing where she could be seen. Perhaps. I doubt she ever meant for it to lead to adultery and murder.

The point that has haunted me most is how Bathsheba probably lived out the rest of her life. I'll be honest, I haven't done extensive scripture research for all of the mentions of Bathsheba (but I'm tempted to now!) But I don't recall much mention beyond her adulterous encounter with David that led her husband to be killed that led her to become David's wife and Solomon's mother. I imagine that her life was a life of material wealth and comfort living with David. But I also imagine that she felt forever shadowed by how she came to be living in such wealth. I doubt she ever fully forgave herself. I imagine that in her final years the regrets and sorrow about Uriah came frequently to mind as her body became more and more idle. I have a mental image that the weight of the guilt weighed her down and she was no longer a beautiful young woman, but a stooped elderly lady burdened with guilt and shame.

I think that's how I imagine it because I can picture myself reacting the same way. What weighed Bathsheba down the most was not knowing how God could use her sin. We all have such a limited view of creation. We try to teach our children to not be self-centered, but I don't think we ever really outgrow believing ourselves to be the center of the universe (I'm talking to/about myself here). Were I in the same situation as Bathsheba, I would only be able to see my own shame and how it had affected (i.e., ruined) my life. I'm so thankful to be able have the hindsight of Bathsheba's life and know that from her sin, from her mis-step, from her poor decision, from her listening to the wrong person -- God's plan was fulfilled. It's that vision and knowledge that enables me to trust that God can use my life to His glory, when I seem to make an enormous mess on my own.

Father, lead me to understand that I am not the universe or the entirity of your plan -- I'm simply a small puzzle piece in it. I know that you are able to use me to fulfill your plan -- but I may not even know how in my lifetime, much like Bathsheba couldn't have known how. Lord, lead me to Kingdom vision, not Sarah vision.

The Power Of One, Pt. 1

I've been reading "The Red Tent" a fictional novel told from the perspective of Dinah, Jacob's daughter. She tells her family history: of Jacob coming and working to marry Rachel, being deceived into marrying Leah, and many more details from Genesis 29-35 (some factual, some fictional). One of the threads of the story is a fairly good assumption from scripture that, although Jacob would worship God and only God, his wives were happy to call on any god they thought would answer. Since the novel is told from the perspective of the daughter who spends her days with the women, there is much talk of all the different gods. I keep thinking -- this is in Jesus' geneology. How odd that there is this family that probably looked like most families of their time in their region that God used to eventually fulfill His promise. I have also been struck by how powerful Jacob's influence over his own boys must have been that he was able to make his Lord and Father stand out as God above all gods in that atmosphere.

Of course, as we continue the story, not all of the boys lived their lives honoring God. It's so fascinating to see who God will use and how! Not having my geneology of Jesus memorized, I would think that, of the 12 boys, Joseph would be the one to be included in Jesus' lineage. Remember Joseph? Always odd-man-out with his brothers, sold into slavery by them, RAN from evil with Potiphar's wife, instrumental in Egypt becoming a powerful nation in a time of famine. That sounds like good Jesus lineage material to me. Which is why I'm not God. God used Judah, instead. Judah, what a mess. Judah, who had a son who was so evil that God put him to death. You'll just have to read Genesis 38 to be reminded of how Judah's offspring came into being by his daughter-in-law who was pretending to be a prostitute. And we wonder where Jerry Springer comes up with his story lines?

My original thought on this is that it only took one -- one person, one parent to show a "tribe" of 12 who God is. I pray to empty myself and my will to Him that I may be that one to people I encounter.

Busy Saturday

There's much I would like to write about that was running through my head at 4 a.m., but my time constraints just have me "touching blog base" today (let's all conjure a mental image of what 'touching blog base' would be! :-)

We are headed to a family reunion where I will very vaguely know about 4 people, the kids know no one, I will haul a ton of food there, and a good time will be had by all. I've already warned the kids not to ask me how soon we can leave -- we will be there most of the day and just get over it. This is a reunion that is (obviously) Troy's side of the family that he and I haven't been to since we were married 12+ years ago. Reunions have never been a big deal for my family -- partly b/c our family is fairly small on my dad's side, and most of my mom's family lived within "spittin' distance" (and that's just how you would say it there, too!)

I do think it's important to reconnect with those who have touched the lives of people who touched your life. I'm sure I'll have more to write about on my return. For now, I must go squeeze in some exercise, then make a huge batch of Southwestern Chicken Spaghetti to haul to Brownwood!

"Her children arise and call her blessed. . ."

Ashley: "What stinks in here?"

Riley: "It's either Duchess. . . or Mom."

More Rangers' Game Pics

Now that the Sullivan family has been apprised of my posting of ONE of the ultra-cuties, I must follow through and get the rest of the guys up there. My apologies to Clark, who I was unable to get a good picture of, but he is mentioned in Independence Day as my favorite fireworks memory!



Bennet and Clark, absorbed in the game (more than you can say about me, for sure).

The Stirmans, roasting at the ballpark!


Griffin, the youngest of the Sullivan cuties.


The Chick-Fil-A cows, hanging out with the fans. Can you think of a worse summer job? If it felt like 126* in the ballpark, can you imagine what it was inside a Chick-Fil-A cow costume?

From Years Gone By

I'm cleaning out some files this morning and came across an email that I sent out, then printed to keep for myself, several years ago. The date on it shows August of 2001, shortly before we learned of Troy's job in Abilene. Riley would have been 3:

Riley and I were alone in the car on the way to church tonight for a pizza dinner, then church.

Riley told me, "Mommy, God is making the cut on my leg better."

"Riley, God just takes such good care of us."

"Yep, and there's someone else up in heaven who takes care of us. Can you guess who it is, Mommy?"

"It must be Jesus."

"Yep, Jesus has a beard, but God doesn't."

"Riley, what does God look like?"

"Like Mommies and Daddies. Only my daddy has a mustache and God doesn't" (evidently God has no facial hair).

(brief pause as I bask in the thought of my son associating God with his parents)

"Mommy, what do the bottoms of pizzas look like?"

I would not have been able to re-tell that story, but now that I've read it, I remember vivid details of it and how I laughed for the fleeting theological discussion to turn toward pizzas.

We had a similar conversation this morning while I was weeding. I told him that, like my Bible reading and knowing God, I wanted weeding to be a one-time deal. Do it and be done. But weeding doesn't work that way, and neither does my prayer time because Satan is out there in the world. You have to stay on top of it every day.

Riley commented, "Satan is the weed. We have to keep him out of there."

We also noticed that a weed that had been let go for too long was all but impossible to get out and we had to dig almost to China to get to the root. We decided that it's best to get sin out as soon as you can before you have to dig to China to get it out.

Do you ever feel like the job of leading these questioning minds on The Path is way out of your league?

Independence Day

Allow me to start this post with a disclaimer: I love my country. In a quiet moment of reflection, I am so thankful for the opportunities we are all afforded here, and for the men and women who have died so that we can all be as lazy or ambitious as we choose. I know it's not a perfect country, and I don't think it's the ONLY country that's great or the only country that God blesses. But I do, indeed, love my country and am thankful to have been born here. Problem is, I have found, that July 4th is pretty much the last day of the year for any quiet reflection.

Troy was home (and that's a good thing) and the kids were extra-cuckoo. I always grieve for retail employees who have to work on holidays, but I was so thankful to have a place to go! In the early afternoon we went to the movie and saw "Herbie, Fully Loaded" -- pretty much as great as all of the Herbie movies. Lots of laughs for the kids, and only very innocent teenage romance. We had some burgers for dinner, then tried to go to the pool (they closed an hour earlier than usual -- my name was 'Mud'!) Wasted a little more time in the evening and finally headed out to the fireworks. Being early to bed people, July 4th fireworks always present a bit of a struggle for us. Just about the time we're really ready for bed, it's finally dark enough for the fireworks to start. As the kids become more and more tired, they get more and more hyped up and Troy and I get more and more tired and less tolerant of the hyper kids.

I do love fireworks. I have decided recently they are definitely a community activity. You simply must sit with a loved one and exclaim, "Isn't that pretty?" "Those are my favorites." "Ooooh, I liked that one!" There were fireworks after the Rangers game and my favorite moment was Clark Sullivan with hands clamped over his ears, turning to his mom with a smile squished between his hands and exclaiming, "Aren't they pretty, Momma?" Watching fireworks just has to be done with friends and family.

Last night our little family was a bee hive of noise and activity. The kids sat on top of the car, then came down, then Ashley went back up. Troy found some non-stop patriotic music on the radio to get in the spirit that the kids griped and whined about. They squirreled all over and finally, Troy just packed us all up and we headed home. As we first pulled away, we could see the last of the fireworks, so we almost made it through the whole thing. Troy was trying not to fume while they were getting louder and louder in the back seat and again, with the music, "What is this music?" "Why aren't there any words?" "But I don't know this one!!" Troy just kept turning up his music and the kids just kept talking to each other louder and louder. Good times. Finally, the music became a tune that the kids knew. With no prompting, the chatter and frivolity in the back seat turned to a sing-along and we heard two precious voices:

"America! America!
God shed His grace on thee.
And crown thy good,
With brotherhood,
From sea to shining sea."

Good times indeed.

Today, Riley continued his singing expertise:

Old McDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O (what does that MEAN, anyway?)
And on that farm he had a Riley,
E-I-E-I-O:
With a talk, talk here,
A talk, talk there. . . .

Then, feeling burdened by his jobs, continued:

Old McMommy had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O,
And on that farm she had a Riley,
E-I-E-I-O:
With a work, work here,
A work, work there. . . .

I have a good life.

(left) Bennet Sullivan. Is he the absolute cutest or what? His parents say that they wish they had a nickel for every time he has been compared to Jonathan Lipnicki (below) -- his college would be well funded by now. I took Bennet's picture at the Rangers game we went to a few weeks ago. You know, I'm still not a huge baseball fan, especially when it was approximately 126* in Ranger stadium. So, I just had a great time taking pictures of the Sullivan family and the Chick-Fil-A cows!

I seem to be having trouble with some of my posts. When I get back up and running, I'll post more pictures!

It's FRIDAY!

And more importantly -- it's PAYDAY!! And co-op (i.e., date night!!!) is tonight. And the DISH guy came and fixed our scrambled TV and I got a hair cut -- and so did Troy, come to think of it. Then I had lunch with my friend, Angela. It's a good day all around.

My favorite image of summer occurred yesterday -- Riley had seen some kids doing the same thing at our pool, so he decided that he, too, could act like a fountain. He scooped up a mouthful of water, struck a pose with one foot perched in the air, and spewed his pool water back into the pool. He did this several times, for the benefit of no one but himself, since he wasn't aware that I was watching. He got to where he had a sly grin on his face, thoroughly enjoying himself. Then he realized it's REALLY hard to spit water while you're laughing (he had totally cracked himself up -- he gets that from me). Then Ashley joined the fun and for approximately 7 blissful seconds we had a harmonious moment of being silly at the pool. Then, of course, the argument arose as to who was the best fountain. (they probably get that from me, but yeeesh). The moment was over. Of course, they did it for Troy last night and he had to point out exactly how dirty the water was. Killjoy.

I had to abort all other reading and tackle my new Janet Evanovich book, "Eleven on Top" and then on to "The Mermaid Chair" by Sue Monk Kidd (Secret Life of Bees author). I checked both of them out from the library last night and they're only 7 day check-outs. I love my Janet Evanovich book -- certainly a nice break from realistic fiction. It's realistic -- in that, it COULD happen -- but it wouldn't be nearly as funny as it is written if it did.

What are YOU doing for the 4th? I'm beginning to hate that question. I HAVE NO PLANS, I AM A LOSER WITH NO PLANS, OKAY???? There's an ice-cream supper at church on the 3rd, but that's as close as I am to any plans at all. The pool is having all sorts of races, etc. Riley absolutely doesn't want to go (doesn't want the embarassment of not winning a race and would rather just play in the pool anyway). Ashley will not live if we don't go (wants the two of us to win the mother/daughter raft race and earn lots of $$$ in the money dive). So I'm currently thinking -- I don't know.

Maybe I'll just stay home and blog about how we should all celebrate our independence through Christ everyday -- or maybe I'll just eat all of the leftover ice cream from church and take a nap.