MOTB...Day 371

Shawna and I just spent a couple hours doing some internet shopping for Bridal gowns...and Kristy, thanks for the tip on Maggie Sottero! Hopefully they'll have the dress we liked at the House of Brides in Chicago. This is so much fun!! Anyhoo, it was a nice ending to this beautiful, if not a bit chilly April Saturday.

Did I mention that the reception hall was nothing short of amazing??!!

MOTB...Day 372

Oh. My. Goodness.

I know one bride that's gonna have the day of her dreams if I have anything to do with it. You should see this reception hall. Greece meets Tuscany meets and surpasses all expectations. Closest friends and family...prepare for the party of a lifetime.

the family bed

Last night my bride-to-be, 20-something baby girl snuggled with me. This was one of the few times since she replaced this source of security with that of her groom-to-be over 3 years ago. [They don’t sleep together…but I noticed her need for affection and physical touch was being tended in his arms and no longer mine…that is how it is supposed to be.] She decided to go to bed earlier than usual, which afforded this rare opportunity to begin with.

As she lay there, where Kevin would find her an hour or so later, gently wake her and send her to her room, we quietly talked about wedding details, about a bunch of little things that usually get reduced into small bites of conversation as she’s heading out the door, and it was nice. She’s just so beautiful. So sweet. So…mine.

From the first night in the hospital until she was older than many people are comfortable with, she slept either cuddled under my chin or in my arms when she went to sleep at night. For years we listened to people who said that was a big mistake. We even tried for a while to establish a routine of putting her to bed ahead of us and making her stay there. This almost certainly required Kevin to crawl from the living room [this was their thing], through the hallway to the side of her bed to read her story after story, or one of us picking her up and holding her till she fell asleep.

On the nights she actually fell asleep on her own, we rarely made it through the night without hearing her little feet come our way, landing by the side of our bed until I picked her up and tossed her under the covers.

I think they called it the “family bed”. Which weirds me out just a bit, but it was anything but weird for the three of us. Some of my favorite moments were those times of night when her hair was up against my face and I could pray over her as she fell asleep. She was a twirler. She habitually twirled a strand of our hair between her chubby little fingers for what seemed like forever while she drifted off to sleep. Surprising to me was that Kevin had more patience for this peculiar fetish than I did. And when I reached my limit she would nuzzle his direction and resume. Even now, she twirls her own when she sits still or talks about something for very long.

I miss her being little. I miss her reaching for me. I miss her little voice and I miss the smell of her breath and the sound of her breathing. Hmm. My sweet, baby girl.

I prayed you to sleep last night, my precious one. With prayers pretty similar to the ones I’ve been praying over you since I could see your little foot pressed against the inside of my stomach. That you would be His. That you would breathe His love for you. That you would be healthy, and filled with joy and peace and love. That He would protect and direct your steps always. That He would establish His good and perfect will for your life. That He would prepare a godly man to love and care for you. That He would keep you both pure, that you would wait for each other. That you would never doubt for one little second how much I love and adore you. That one day, one precious, glorious day, you would laugh…like your mother.

I love you, Shawna Lynn. Sweet dreams.

Mother of the Bride...Day 373

Church: Check.
Photographer: Check.
Reception Hall: Check.

Prepare for the party of a lifetime: Check.

"So, what does your husband do?"

You know those guys who have been here fixing our leaks and repainting the ceilings? Well, every time they're here, so am I. And I mean...here. At this computer. And contrary to how it may seem, I really don't spend my entire day sitting here. Hey.

Well, they were here bright and early this morning and covered my computer desk and the rest of the den with tarps and plastic. I didn't know this until they left to get something and I came downstairs to boot 'er up and check my email. I was nearly crushed they had covered everything up. I dug under the plastic to grab my workbook and headed upstairs to do my study. But I did have a nice chuckle imagining what they would think to return and find me blogging away covered in visqueen. And yes, I thought about it.

They returned, they resumed, then one of them says, "So, what does your husband do?" [Translation: nice house, wife sits on butt, poor sucker of a husband] I know he was probably just making conversation and I also know he's a really nice guy and it's just my guilty conscience screaming at me to earn my keep, but if they're back tomorrow, this chick is gonna don heels and a suit, grab my attaché case [locating & dusting it first] and wait by the front door till they walk in. I’ll purposefully rush past them and tell them I'm late for a meeting… with my editor.

what does my husband do...

Wicked, Wicked Sister...

When Kohl's department store had their grand opening a month ago, my sister and I were in to take advantage of their pre-Easter sales and as we checked out she heard the cashier say to me, "Oh, I almost forgot your 15% discount". I of course didn't question it, but Veronica had a good time observing it was Senior Citizens Discount Day. Well, she had her laugh, but I had my discount and we put the whole thing behind us. Until moments ago.

She called to ask if I looked at the Kohl's flyer in the paper last night. I had not. She said I might want to. It appears there is another 15% coupon...for seniors. I told her I died in Pam's dreams last night. She said I didn't die in hers.

Ya know. Life just hasn't been the same

since that house fell on my sister...

Ok. My car won't start.

Should I be worried?

R.I.P.

Pam just called to hear my voice. Seems I died in her dreams last night. This is the second time I've died in her dreams recently. Oddly, I typed "rest in peace" at the end of last night's blog and changed it to "sleep tight" 'cause I thought it a bit ominous. I laughed it off, but it feels a little weird thinking about it right now.

I called Veronica. They're all okay. I guess one never knows, huh?

Well, I'm off to Bible study. And I'm going to look both ways...twice :)

P.S. Veronica, be sure you go through my stuff before Kevin gives it the ol' heave ho :) As Gil fondly reminded me, I have half the world's wealth accumulated in baskets...

Day Five...Check.

Well. I just finished my day five study...and I read through Romans 4 which I was supposed to do every week and haven't done at all. I read tonight that Rebekah may never have heard of twins before Esau and Jacob were born. That this was the first biblical mention of twins. I don't know. That struck me funny. If that's possible, and the two boys were fighting inside her, she was expecting one, didn't even consider two...well. I'm just thinking that would have been quite the surprise. I've had heartburn that felt like two nations were at war but I can't imagine what she must have thought to have God explain the rumbling inside her that way.

Okay. That's as deep as I'm going to get tonight. I'm tired. It has been a long day in blogville. Sleep tight..

And Dane. Jerk of the Week was already a done deal before you posted. Better luck next week :)

Days Three and Four...Check, Check.

Just in case you're wondering. I did day three last night and just finished day four. Both very good. I'm going to let them process a bit but some stuff is hitting me right up side the heart...

With honors...

Each year the faculty at Lincoln Christian College chooses a student finishing the Master of Divinity degree to be recognized as an honors student, someone who models what the seminary is all about. This year, this long, sometimes dark and painful year, the faculty at LCC overwhelmingly voted for Brian Lowery to receive that honor.

Brian Lowery. Our hearts overwhelmingly believe you deserve this. Our hearts are quite proud of you and all you have accomplished. I know you don't really think you want to walk that stage, but you need to. For all of us. For Him. And if you listen closely, you'll hear us thanking the Father you didn't give up, or give in, or believe them, and you'll hear us cheering you on.

Congratulations. It's been a long Friday...

Much love...

You had me at "You're gonna have to go through Me"

We bopped off to worship, braved the chilly winds [this is April, right?] and thanked the Maker for 11:00 services. Met up with the bunch of friends we had just spent last evening with and found some seats. I came prepared...this was a good week with the personal study going well, attended a couple group studies Wednesday then spent the whole day Saturday having my soul cuddled and attended. I even read the scripture verse cards I had cut out of my study book and have made an effort to keep close, sharing them with Kevin on our way across town. Heart ready.

Neal started singing Third Day’s “Love Song” alone on the stage. Jerry followed with part one of what I did not know was going to be one of the most exhausting, emotional times of worship I’ve known for a long time. He described our Good Shepherd as a dangerous master and after leading us through some scripture began to paint a picture of Christ protecting us from the wolves that try to get us alone long enough to devour and destroy us. I could tell my heart was up to something again, being familiar with the symptoms from yesterday, and by the time he got to Jesus walking to the foot of the valley, dropping his staff and saying, “You want them? You’re gonna have to go through Me” I was a blubbering idiot. No Kleenex. No waterproof makeup. For crying out loud this was church.

Well, with every song we sang, with every segment of preaching I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. I took those cards out during communion and kept reading the promises in my hands, I kept trying to sort through the thoughts and emotions racing inside me and I just kept crying. Neal was singing through communion and I could hear one of the girls that used to come to our high school worship at MPCC singing along with him. Jerry stood up with this sobbing woman who couldn’t take her sweet face from her hands and explained that she couldn’t wait any longer to stop hating Jesus. She wanted Him to love her and she wanted to love Him back. All very moving.

He spoke some more and we sang some more. There was a family of six up front, a couple women and one gentleman who wanted to either become a part of what was going on or rededicate their hearts. Could not stop crying. We stood to sing “Shout to the Lord” [at a tempo faster than I would have chosen but I’m dealing] and I began to sing. When I got to the word “shelter” I just gave up. I was going to look like crap and there was nothing I was going to do about it. Tried to jump back in and sing “Agnus Dei”, not a lot of luck. I was determined to sing “Blessed Be Your Name” since I sort of declared that my anthem and managed to sing along. When we sang the bridge I just stopped fighting the tears and realized that for the first time in over a year I was crying because He was giving and not taking away. I can’t begin to explain what that felt like. I want so badly to trust Him. I want so badly to jump. I want so badly to believe.

Could this be what all this was about?

Could these be my answers?

Could this be my miracle?

I am so ready to find out. But I am seriously going to start keeping Kleenex handy.

“Friends Trump S*** In the End…”

Pardon my French. Although technically I guess that would be something like “Les amis jouent atout la merde dans la fin.” [That’s “Les amiss joint about la mere dams la fin.” on the other side of spell check…] Either way, I love that quote written by a friend a while back when life had looked better and it managed to stick with me. At dinner last night it kept running through my head-along with thoughts of what a great day it had been.

It started with a women’s retreat that I cringe even thinking about and if I can come clean I truly dreaded going to. I just don’t get that worked up about spending a day inside packed with a bunch of women, learning how to do flower arrangements and discovering my color palette. Plus, I’m shy. Which is why I hide behind a piano keyboard whenever I get the chance. But I signed up to go in an attempt to make this new faith community feel more like it belonged to me than it does.

I came close to bolting when they had us all stand and begin this yoga for Jesus segment. But the lights were low, the music was soothing and the assurance delivered through the quiet reading of various scriptures almost made me forget there were people in the booth behind me having a field day with this one. In the privacy of my own home it would have actually been quite nice…just not my thing in a room full of women.

The guest speaker was meant to be there. I’m going to be chewing on some stuff for a while. Let’s just say there were plenty of GodStops throughout the day.

The sessions were really good. Again more GodStops and a few recurring themes: forgiveness, anger, grace and miracles. Well, those were my themes, I’m sure the HS personalizes those a bit. One breakout session was led by the “blast from the past” lady I mentioned in an earlier post, and the second session was led by another unexpected blast from my past. I haven’t seen her in almost 10 years. She’s married now but it was a girl that Doreen Gross and I had studied with when I was learning to do Peace Treaties. I think she may have been my first one…but I do remember that our mothers were both fighting cancer at the time and I remember running into my living room one night telling mom, dad and Kevin to look at my knees…which were still wet from baptizing this girl in her bathtub. Very cool.

I was so proud of her during this session on journaling. I wish Doreen could have been there to hear of her journey and how recording it on paper was such an obvious passion. This was a GodStop for sure, but added to that is the fact that she is a really, really good friend of the girl who invited me to sing again, and has made this difficult transition a lot less scary. I can’t begin to tell you how much I think God is moving. I get pretty emotional thinking about it.

The last breakout session was led by a group of women, including a couple of my new friends and between the tender video segments and their beautiful pantomime sketches it was just all pretty lovely.

The day wrapped with a closing message from the main speaker and she managed to not only let us into her heart but to get way down deep into ours. That takes a real work of the Spirit for total strangers. I was glad to be part of this day.

I ended up missing out on the bridal shower of a precious friend and I hope to make it up to her in some way. It took longer to get through the lunch process than I thought it would and we weren’t able to get away. My prayers and best wishes were with her.

The rest of the evening was spent with some treasured time at a table surrounded by 13 of the dearest people in the world to me. One I hadn’t seen in far too long, and one I met for the first time. There were the expected belly laughs over the old and new, and sometimes inappropriate stories of times we had spent together and it was just really nice to be together again. We celebrated the academic achievement of someone we were all pretty proud of already, and we hopefully gained the acceptance of the one he wanted us to meet. I know seeing him happy again was more than worth the trip. [Both to Springfield and from where we’ve “been”.]

We always end up lingering a bit, not really wanting to say goodbye. It’s hard to walk away knowing it will be months until we’re together again and realizing when life takes hold of us, those increments of time may one day increase to where we may not see each other as often as we want. I would imagine we all play the mental game of “what if” & “I wish” and there are surges of emotions that overwhelm us as we drive our separate ways, but there was peace this time and an assurance that we’re all going to be okay. I’m keeping a corner of my heart reserved for the hope that God will one day bring us all back together for the living of this life and not just the retelling of the one that is behind us, but we’ll just have to see. Friends trump s*** in the end after all…tlgbybyaatway. Both of you...

B A

Hello. My name is Loretta. And I'm an addicted blogger. [Hello Loretta] I have re-set the timer on the microwave three times, make that four times in the last hour. That was supposed to be step one.

I did do my study for the day. And I had my prayer time. And I took my aunt to her doctor's appt. and had lunch with her after. I had strawberry to die-for-pie with my father at the Maid Rite and I visited my sister, being nailed in the crotch by my nephew's play pistol. I also purchased a gift for a bridal shower tomorrow and one for someone just because. The day wasn't a total bust. It has had some layers though. Lots of stuff at work in me these days.

The sun decided to make an appearance this evening and Kevin and I are gonna go buy him some walking shoes and a Bible study for him to start. John and Shawna are headed to play v-ball. They are just so cute. [Except he just called me a psycho and a goof, and thinks I need to get a job. Snot.]

Spa Day starts at 8:00 in the morning and it's just 24 hours until we're supping with the Lowery guy and having the belly laughs that only happen when we are all together. Life was good today and looks like it's gonna be good tomorrow too.

This is really it. Gonna post, close and shut 'er down.

Not Enoch

I will never live to be 365. I am not Enoch. [sarcasm intended] But I did just finish day two of my weekly study, right on time and I'd like to do a better job of walking with God. Imagine how that would feel. Hearing Him say, Ret walked with God. Today what clobbered me was how distracted I am with the things of this world. Whether that's materialistic distraction or simply being angry at stuff. Can't exactly follow hard if I'm hell bent on dragging crap along behind me. It looks like it may have taken Enoch the first 65 to get in step. Don't know. But I better focus and lay hold of what's really important while I have that chance.

post war

I have a lot going on in my head today- actually over the last 24 hours- and I've tried to post several different topics. Can't choose. Here are some of the thoughts fighting for selection:

• leather and lace: Y the church of all places requires us to thicken our skins to survive in ministry. Y if lace is the fabric of choice for the discerning bride, how come the bride of Christ has to wear leather to avoid being eaten alive by not only the faith community but those in leadership to boot. And since it has taken someone like me 40+ years to toughen up a little bit, how can we expect babes straight out of the Bible College womb to deal with the certain realization that ministry is not always what it’s cracked up to be, and sometimes it’s down right dangerous. It’s more than just the loss of my idealistic perceptions, it’s about jeopardizing the passions the Spirit burns on the hearts of those He calls in the first place and that those who threaten to squelch [flatten, annihilate, destroy] that spirit are often the ones we trust the most to know and do better.
• bubble bath report: Suffice it to say that the leak has been effectively dealt with. Opted for champagne instead of moscato- discovering we were out; opted for generic bubbles from Wal-Mart since the mall closed before I got there; and soaked with my eyes closed instead of reading. It was everything I remembered it to be…
• procrastination conquered for one day: I took Erin’s advice and read my lesson today while I was stoked about yesterday’s study…I may celebrate with a trip to Staples…
• anger management: I am slow to anger. I do not have a temper, not that I can’t ante up if needed. I am just pretty easy going. So where in the world does all this anger come from I thought I put to rest months ago?
• purses: What I believe to be the process by which I eliminate the runner-ups from the perfect bag that joins the ranks of other winners in my collection and why Kevin can’t get his mind around it…
• chandler: My completely healthy, not perverted in any way, shape, or form, love affair with this child.
• chicago: our upcoming train trek to locate the perfect wedding gown. Suggestions welcome…
• sifting: Remembering that Jesus must give permission for Satan to sift us as wheat…and that if permission is given, there must be something there to sift…something He needs us to leave behind before we can go where He wants us to go…
• addicted to blog: May need an intervention before too long. Have Robert Palmer’s melody running through my head…might as well face it…Also wondering who’s reading. Ran into 3 bits of conversation yesterday in random places that people have been reading. Interesting dynamic these blogs…some of you veterans already know this...
• blast from the past: Interesting encounter with someone from the MPCC/PRCC/Crossing history. She had a pretty passionate revelation about things coming full circle…and I do mean passionate...
• progress: I actually hugged two women last night I’ve only just met. I even told one I missed her at Bible study yesterday morning. Odd thing to me.
• anticipation: Going to have dinner with a really good friend I haven’t seen in a while this weekend. Really looking forward to it.
• the ones we don't speak of: I saw 5 people last night that had just come from hearing a pretty major announcement about my replacement at MPCC and no one said a word.
• you don’t want a hump on a butt joint: This is what one of the guys here to fix the hole in the ceiling just said to the other guy as they were mudding the piece of dry wall in place. What?

end post.

bubble bath

Can. Not. Wait.

I haven't been able to use our master bathtub since we discovered it was leaking into the den below, which was over a year ago. I like showers but I love bubble baths. We indeed have a nice rectangular hole in the den ceiling that needs to be patched, but the leak by all appearances has been identified and remedied.

I'm thinking: trip to Bath & Body for some delightfully scented bubbles, good book, candles, and a glass of moscato, all happening tonight…sorry Kevin...going solo. Lol.

pro·cras·ti·na·tion

Intentionally putting off the doing of something that should be done. Habitually & intentionally. Three weeks into my new Wednesday morning Bible study designed as a daily assignment for 5 of the 7 days. Once again I’ll be reading them all tonight. One of these days I’m going to have to get better about this. It’s going to be a long evening. I mean I look forward to spending the next 4-5 hours in the Word. Really, it’s going to be great. Just me, the Good Book and pages of homework…

4 Letter Word.

Leak. Not the word you want to hear coming from the guy who came to open the pool for the season. I told Kevin I thought the water looked low. Well, we've had the hose in since noon today and it's still filling. We have to fill it to retract the automatic cover properly. Tomorrow they'll take a look and see what's going on. Exactly where would two feet of water from a 20 x 40 pool have to go? Why not. There will be a big hole in my den's ceiling as well at 7:30 tomorrow morning. Apparently the only way to locate the leak from the master tub above. Hey, maybe all I need to do to shed some of this excess poundage is puncture myself. And, maybe not.

Missing Persons Report

No one is missing yet. But by this time next year I want to be. Or at least be missing the portion of me that would be equivalent to the size of a small person. Trouble is I hate diets, I lack self-discipline and I’m pre-menopausal. Still, I owe it to myself and to the wedding photographer, who will undoubtedly grow frustrated with me if I refuse to have my picture taken with the rest of the bridal party, to have some reduction process going on in the near future. The countdown begins. Just don’t rush out and look for me on the back of any milk cartons just yet…

All Ears...

Boat. Water. Walk. Got it.

Mercy. Part three of the dangerous series this morning...Josh Finklea on mission. More of that walk on water stuff. God, I'm beginning to think my feet are gonna get wet...

Morning Has Broken...

First of all, do they make mornings more fabulously glorious than this one? [Can I use fabulously and glorious all in one sentence?] I awakened to the gentle sound of a dove cooing, a robin singing, chimes ringing, and some happy morning person mowing their stupid grass!! Probably meditating themselves silly. Can they not wait until the rest of us get up?

It was only a matter of time I guess, anyway, since Tigger had been moaning for food for about an hour as it is. So, I'm up. And it is just loverly outside. I know, because I walked out to the mailbox to get the Saturday paper, just so I could glare at the early riser down the street.

Have a great Saturday. I'm headed over to join Veronica and her family as we give dad's yard a bit of springtime attention. I'll do anything BUT mow.

BTW: Kevin mowed the whole yard over while I was at volleyball last night. Please pray for him...

fuel retreat

Hey guys-

Would you mind praying for the fuel retreat this weekend? It's at Camp LaMoine and John and Shawna are going. I think it's cool that they have this opportunity to get away, especially with their recent engagement, and that being the site where Shawna poured her heart out to him to begin with. I also think it's cool that fuel is still going strong and that the dreams that were born in the planning are alive and well. I'm not sure how many people are going, but I just have a feeling it's going to be an awesome weekend for them.

Thanks-

The Alpha and Omega of My Mowing Career

Several people assured me that mowing is good for the soul with lots of meditative benefit. Well, the only meditative thoughts I had during the 70 minutes I spent pushing that thing were anything but soulful. First of all dad came over to help me start the stupid machine. I told him he was a witness to history in the making. Actually, he may have been witness to a once in a lifetime event.

Anyway, I did the front yard twice because I decided I liked the diagonal pattern better than the circle I made the first time round. Front yard, fine. East side yard, okay. Hill in back, boring, and I was getting sweaty. So far the only meditation going on was whether or not I was going to get blisters, and that next time I shouldn't wear a sweatshirt.

The hill behind our backyard fence wasn't too tough; I just think I was beginning to realize that doing this all summer, in 95 degree weather might be more than I'm interested in pursuing. I could have used a drink but I couldn't release the safety lever or the mower would quit and I was afraid I'd never get it started again. So I move on to the west bank.

Did one strip (It's quite a bank. We had part of it filled in with rock but there is still enough to be a pain.) I skipped over, actually mowed over, to the west side yard. I resumed the diagonal pattern and resolved myself to the distinct possibility I was going to have blisters on not only my hands but my feet as well. So far, 10 minutes of this was entertaining, the rest I can live without.

I looked at my watch, determined to finish before Kevin came home for lunch, although it is Friday and he usually goes to the bank instead, I just thought he may have read my post and it would get the best of him. I conquered the remainder of the west bank with thoughts I cannot share. I returned the mower to the garage and dragged my sorry butt into the kitchen. This is why I like the piano.

At 12:30 Kevin walks in yelling at me. (Like clockwork, this guy.) He hates the grass. Something about leaving clumps of grass everywhere and how I didn't round the trees properly. I told him it was my first try, that I could do better, that there was no good reason for him to work all week and have to come home and mow the grass, that it was the least I could do...but nothing would do him. The grass means everything in the world to him, it appears. And who am I to rob him of this simple pleasure. Thank you Jesus.

I confess to these nobler thoughts:

• I have taken for granted his willingness to commit to this chore.
• I will never tell him it's easier than laundry again.
• If he ever mentions getting another rider, it's a done deal.
• Hats off to all you merry mowers of the world.
  

hate it. hate it. hate it. hate it.

HATE. IT.

Wish Me Luck...

Well, I'm going out to make my first attempt to mow the grass. Kevin will throw a fit...Pam suggested I create crop circles in the front yard just to mess with him...how funny would that be.

More later...

Gotta Pee?

Last night Shawna Lynn said yes to the second most important question of her life. John asked her if she had to pee. She said no and he said he didn't have to pee either. He told her he wanted to get a book out of his room that he bought at the Mustard Seed but he came out with a ring. She saw he was shaking. She thought he was kidding. He asked her to marry him and she said yes.

Theirs is a sweet story. This looney drummer claimed her heart when she was in the 4th grade. In those days it was a toss up between Taylor Hanson and John but the Taylor thing just didn't work out. She loved him quietly until the summer before he went to Truman. She professed her feelings for him late one August night at church camp knowing he was dating someone else. She needed him to know. The next 6 months found him in Bible college contemplating if someone like her would really give someone like him a second thought. Their first official date was a Rebecca St. James "Wait For Me" concert and the rest is beautiful history. Three years later and they are on their way to the rest of their lives together.

She's a princess. And he's an original. The two of them together are something pretty special. He gets her and she gets him. They are young and both could stand some full time employment before Kevin and I relax a bit. Okay, Kevin may take a bit more effort, but as I went to sleep last night I was overwhelmed by how blessed they are to have found each other and how blessed they are to have such incredible people in their lives. As I watched them call the people they were closest to I was thankful that list includes some remarkably godly people. People who have invested in each of them over the years to make them who and whose they are. The jobs will come. Relationships like these are priceless and beyond measure to this mother's heart of mine. Thank you seems inadequate for all the investment these friendships and relationships have meant to them. Thank you seems inadequate for a sister that got out of bed to drive across town to be part of it all. But thank you, all. Please join me in asking God to go before them, behind them and all the way around them into this new stage of their lives together.

Now, if you'll excuse me I need to pee.

GodStops

It is no secret that I have found myself walking a leg of this journey a bit differently than I had expected. That said, as the grief and loss subside I am finding that my faithful Father has planted my heart full of Spring surprises that one by one are popping up like the daffodils that tease me each morning in my front yard. If you're not apt to praise God for a bargain at Wal-Mart, these little surprises aren't going to seem like much. But for me, they are huge.

I've been tinkering with a song prompted by a recent sermon series. I say tinkering, because I can rarely finish these little songs of mine. I have a strong start, find a nice hook and then no double bar. Well I had this song in progress that actually ended up changing directions after a verse or two, that expresses the desire to believe that a God who parted the Red Sea for Moses could and would hold the waters back for me. I wasn't sure what to do with the chorus so out of my mouth came the words, " I want to believe. I need to believe. If I am ever gonna be the one Your Holy Spirit's calling me to be." Well, I had a melody locked down, but just wasn't content with the lyrics and got stuck. As I often do, I got bored and let it sit.

So yesterday morning, I'm at Bible study and via DVD, Beth Moore is passionately pleading with us to get our minds around the truth that faith and hope are connected and that the God of our theology has got to be the God of our reality. She just keeps hammering us to believe God and believe Him to be big. Then she says that He may have parted the waters for Moses, but He wants us to walk on water.

All of a sudden my chorus comes blasting into my head...I want to believe. I need to believe... It was just a cool moment for me. Like I was in the right place at the right time. Like Jupiter had aligned with Mars. A GodStop she calls them. A God thing.

Kim calls them dots. Sometimes we can't see them until we look back, and sometimes, like yesterday, we get to enjoy them as they leave their mark on the timeline of our lives. Maybe I'm just raw enough right now to be paying attention but I want God to be big. I want Him to show this heart of mine I have only just begun to know Him.

It's been a long time since I actively expected God to act in my life and it feels nice. If what she says is true, that God will always choose to perform a miracle within us over the one we’re asking for, then I know that’s what He’s been doing in me. I believe that’s what He’s been doing in a few of my friends as well. We didn’t get the miracle we were asking for. But He has certainly been parting a sea or two within us all. And if in His wisdom and great love for us it gets us one step closer to looking like Him, then I’m all for believing as He transforms us piece by broken piece.

I can do faith. I can do hope. I'm ready to believe...

A New Job!!!

NOT.

Pahlease. Don't believe everything you hear. I have one piano student and a few upcoming weddings. As far as current employment that's as good as it gets. If anyone out there has any great ideas about where someone like myself might find a job as awesome as my last one, please let me know. Until then I'm relying solely on my husband's good graces.

Revive Us, Again

Last week I was asked if I'd like to sing with a group of ladies for a women's thing in May. I was also asked to bring some ppl if I knew of anyone else. Well. Just so happens I decided it might be time to sing again and I ended up asking some friends of mine to come along for the ride.

We met in a strange room, in a strange but increasingly more familiar church, with a group of new faces we don't know yet. I assumed the role of directee instead of director and we spent 45 minutes rehearsing an arrangement of "Revive Us, Again". These ladies I had never met were concentrating on their parts most likely, maybe interspersed with thoughts of who the new gals were, maybe even knowing bits and pieces of who we are and where we're from, maybe not. But I know the girls I brought with me were not just thinking of those parts. No, we were all thinking the same thing: Wow, this is surreal. This is surreal. This is surreal.

We were thrilled to be singing again. Like we had all been holding our breath under water and could finally come up for air. We were all comparing this rehearsal to ones we had shared over the years, all missing what we had and nervously anticipating what we might have again someday.

I worry about what the people I have left behind will think of this progress. I worry about how they will feel. If I could have spared any of us from all of this, I would have. If I could plant the people I love and care about more than anyone in this world and the ministry we enjoyed together, with what I have before me in this new community, I would, but I am going to grab this chance to rebuild. I'm going to run hard after it. I'm not going to let Satan fool me into believing I don't deserve it. I am no longer going to feel guilty about choosing what I believe to be the bigger yes for my life. The last couple years were some of the most fulfilling, joy filled ones of my life and I will always mourn their abrupt, unexpected and painful ending. But I am not going to spend another precious day wondering what the poll says about me. This is about Him and what He's been up to in my heart and life. I may even start wearing my seatbelt. I just know it was good to sing and even better to sing with some familiar faces. I'm open to all possibilities and it's a beautiful thing.

I Love My Life Today

I love my life today. I slept late, wrote a long email to a good friend of mine, sipped freshly brewed coffee and had a bowl of Lucky Charms. Opened the windows, waited for Kevin and Shawna to wake up, farted around doing some small chores, laundry and such, fixed a light lunch, took a long wonderful shower, and listened to the new Jamie Cullum CD I got from a brand new friend. Kevin told me he loved me and likes having me home.

We got out the power washer and gave a good rinse down to the tables and chairs that had spent the winter in the garage. We are anxious to open the pool and enjoy the crisp, blue, well clear but looks like blue, water. [Not anxious enough to run the heater this early in the spring however...lesson learned last year...several hundreds of dollars later.]

We grilled burgers and enjoyed a dinner with my dad, John and Shawna and had a few laughs at Kevin's expense. I played with dad's dog Abby outside enjoying this glorious cool evening. I smiled at the sound of the wind chimes I hung on the birch tree in the front yard, a gift for my birthday from some friends and anticipate Kevin leaning over sometime tonight to tell me the chimes have to go. John and Shawna are composing music for their wedding...he seems intent on fog machines and lights. I don't know. Right now they're listening to Trans-Siberian Orchestra's version of Canon in D trying to figure out how to eliminate the Christmas lyrics. And seriously, John is pretending she's walking down the aisle while he wails on the guitar. And he says something about fire shooting from somewhere.

Yes, I love my life today.

Today

Today Veronica and I will take my Aunt Liz to Hannibal for Shawna to give her a perm and cut. I think we'll get her a manicure and facial ta boot. I'm really looking forward to it. The sun is glorious, and I have this expectation that it's just going to be a week that ends really well. The pieces that fell together since Saturday have God all over them and I'm excited about what He's up to. Have a great day and much love to all.

PS. Add Zicam to the Bag Balm and Oxy Clean list. Twice in last two weeks I have felt a doozy of a cold coming on and though the first couple tablets gave me the heebies...it seems to work. You rock, Pam.

I told my sister I was thinking about learning to mow our grass.

Okay, I know how that sounds, but my musical skills are a direct result of the yard work I escaped by practicing growing up. I haven’t ever had to learn since in addition to curbside garbage detail Kevin maintains our lawn. So I was telling her I wanted to learn.

We were on the phone so I couldn’t see her face but I know she was probably imagining me with a tiara on my head or nursing a broken nail or something, and she was laughing at me. Hard. I tried to tell her I mowed once when I was at home but I couldn’t remember doing the whole yard or anything. She kept laughing and said, “You? Touch a mower? Was it in your way?”

Funny. Not very nice, but funny.

Hannah

Kid you not.
This little girl doesn’t stop talking from the second I open the front door to let her in for her piano lesson till she leaves. She’s the cutest little thing on the planet, with strawberry hair and a face full of freckles. Her eyes never stop dancing the whole time she’s here.

I told her she looked cute. This is what followed: [Read this as quickly as you can, breathe only if you have to and summon all the excitement of Christmas morning for a 10 year old]

I got these pants [standing up from the piano bench] in San Antonio. We went there when my grandparents, we call them mamaw and papaw, took my brother with them on vacation, I don’t remember where they went. My mom and I went to San Antonio with my two cousins and their moms except I saw this sign for Sea World and we didn’t know there was a Sea World there, except for the sign I saw and I got these pants. [Sitting back down] My dad gave me a CD. He burned my favorite song on there 3 times in a row. It’s called “Drive”. I love that song. [Keep the pace but sing in a country twang]

It was painted red the stripe was white
It was 18 feet from the bow to stern light
Secondhand from a dealer in Atlanta
I rode up with daddy when he went there to get her
We put on a shine, put on a motor
Built out of love, and made for the water
Ran her for years, til' the transom got rotten
A piece of my childhood will never be forgotten
It was just an old plywood boat
With a 75 Johnson with electric choke
A young boy two hands on the wheel
I can't replace the way it made me feel…[she gets stuck and forgets the words then…]

When Daddy let me drive. [She laughs and heads into the last verse]

I'm grown up now3 daughters of my own
I let them drive my old jeep
Across the pasture at our home
Maybe one day they'll reach back in their file
And pull out that old memory
And think of me and smile
And sayIt was just an old worn out jeep
Rusty old floor boardsHot on my feet
A young girl two hands on the wheel
I can't replace the way it made me feel
And he'd sayTurn it left, and steer it right
Straighten up girl now, you're doing just fine
Just a little valley by the river where we'd ride
But I was high on a mountain
When Daddy let me drive [then she says how she loves the way it ends….]

Daddy let me drive
Oh he let me drive
It's just an old plywood boat
With a 75 Johnson
And electric choke…

[Now during these first few minutes of her lesson I’m seriously trying to find an opportunity to begin and short of placing my hand over her mouth or something it just wasn’t possible. So she continues from the song into:]

I just love that song. I just LOVE COUNTRY!!! [Hurling both arms in the air] I LOVE COUNTRY!!! [Arms up]. Guess what I’m going to be for Halloween? [Standing again] I’m going to wear socks like these with cute jeans I have, with a white t-shirt and this country hat that used to be my brothers, I LOVE country! [Arms up and she sits down] I just kept doing that one night [she continues to say I LOVE country and shoots her arms into the air repeatedly throughout this part] when my grandma and grandpa were there and my friend Katie, I think it was Katie, or maybe it was Jamie, I don’t remember, I think it was Jamie, and she thought it was so funny I couldn’t stop. I can’t help it I just LOVE that song.

[“Hannah I really need for you to start your lesson sweetheart”…she starts to play and my cat begins to moan from the other room.]

What’s that? Is that your cat? Oh…it’s so hard for me to concentrate. [Plays a little more after she squeezes her forehead with her hands a couple times and we’re off and running again]

There’s this bus stop at the other end of our street and the bus lets me off there and I have to walk all the way to the other end of our cul-de-sac because that’s where our house is and I hate to walk all that way but my friend Matthew is so lucky, he lives right there by the bus stop and that would be nice because I have to walk to the end of the cul-de-sac. [She sighs]

I have a headache. That was confusing. [We’re still trying to finish the first technic exercise] My friend can play this song my phone rings with at home. [She launches into “Fur Elise” singing…doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo…doo doo doo doo…doo doo doo doo…she finishes the melody, doesn’t appear to take a breath, and goes into] I was going to bring a book to show you that says emit levart and you hold it up to a mirror and it says Time Travel backwards. Want me to show you?

[I start humming “Fur Elise” and call her a goober for getting that stuck in my head and she says]

Goobers. That’s my mom’s favorite candy.

Kid you not.

Breaking Silence:

"Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph." - Haile Selassie

I opened the drawer to file some music and it was like I had just stepped out of some type of suspended dream state or something. I’m not sure how to explain it. It must be similar to someone shooting a person in a blind rage and wondering how the gun got in their hand. Or maybe opening the door to the room of a loved one who died for the first time. And I get that, I do, but this came from nowhere and it caught me by surprise. It was only a drawer full of folders and music. So why the moment?

I had a heck of a year. I’m still spiritually sifting through the wreckage of it all. I must have shut down parts of myself in the process without realizing it. Parts of myself that I silenced until I could deal with them. I have opened that drawer more than once without pause, but this time it was different.

I grabbed the folder labeled worship. It felt a bit like a well-worn Bible. I decided to pan through the pages. Pages full of sermon texts, rehearsal schedules, tech sheets of services I had planned last year and several sermon outlines a friend of mine had written. There were set lists from concerts I had done with some of the people I love most in my life and various other reminders of what I had been spending my days and nights pursuing. I had placed this folder and others like it, in this drawer the night I moved my things home from MPCC. I had an embarrassing amount of boxes filled with things collected during my years there and in the midst of a normally busy Christmas season as well as the not-so-normal circumstances I think I must have been a bit in a fog during the whole process.

When Kevin and I argue it usually lasts as long as the conversation, but sometimes it requires a day or two of relative silence until someone breaks the streak. That happened to me right after I had been in that drawer. Otherwise I might not have noticed, that as 48 hours of withheld information began streaming, from one insignificant question about home maintenance, and restored “normal” like someone had left their finger on the pause button or something, that’s how it felt when I opened that drawer. Like it should have had some bulletin saying “we now return to the program already in progress”. I was a bit pissed. Like, what did I miss? What have I walked through, motion-by-motion, breath-by-breath and will never reclaim? How many thoughts did Kevin try to share with me and my mind was across town wondering what to do? How many times did my daughter, my sister or my dad need me and I wasn’t paying attention? How many opportunities did I have to listen to somebody but I couldn’t invest anymore of my heart?

I know for sure the countless hours spent worrying, mourning, praying, screaming, seeking, discussing, reading, searching and pleading could have been invested in something else and I could spend the rest of my life second guessing it all. But I also know for sure that there are times we are not afforded that luxury.

There are times worth the sacrifice, worth the risk and worth breaking the silence. It appears it knocked the wind out of me temporarily, that it put some things on hold and that I may not have completely recovered like I thought I had. But I know who I am like never before and I think spring smells bluer and greener than it ever did before. I didn’t hide behind an anonymous wall and hurl stones when no one was looking. I was not silent. I was brave. I was true to my soul.

It’s quiet and peaceful down deep in the sand and seems to eliminate the risk of seeing things we don’t want to see, hearing things we don’t want to hear, and knowing things…we don’t want to know. But it’s like keeping yourself locked in a drawer for months, while bolder souls do the real living. This life I have stings a bit from time to time but I’d rather feel that burn than live with sand in my mouth, and eventually the silence breaks you, makes you someone you never wanted to be.

So when I hear that a young preacher is on his way to the life God has purposed for him and see the ashes of his journey being turned into the beauty that’s before him I have peace. And when I see the maturity and depth this has borne in a balding pilgrim who defined himself and his calling by a Colorado mountain stream I have joy. And when I watch a wounded friend start believing in herself again and finding a ministry among brake pads and motor oil, I have hope. And when I have felt the unconditional support and encouragement of family and friends who never stopped believing in me or in my heart I have much love.

There were missed moments sacrificed along the way, of that I’m sure. Significant portions of hearts that paid the cost, passions that were a bit beaten up and dreams that fell apart. But we chose the only path that didn’t ask us to live a lie, turn the other way and trade integrity for keeping the peace. There will be more songs to sing, more plans and dreams, more pages to add to that folder. For now, it is enough to know that when I'm ready to sing them, I have a voice and am not afraid to use it.

"When I tell the truth, it is not for the sake of convincing those who do not know it, but for the sake of defending those that do." -William Blake

Happy Birthday to Me...

I had a wonderful weekend. Just simply wonderful.
Not without a moment or two of melancholy, but wonderful.

Friday was my "little" sister's birthday. So we celebrated her at Pizza Hut with family and pizza. Kevin celebrated ending his worst day of the year without a prank from me. [He did however delight me with the news that all the office and production staff at JK was prepped to summon security if ANYONE came to the door or called for him, that no one was allowed within 50 feet of him, except for Lisa from Titan, which I plan to remember for next year...]

I always have a great time when I can "play" with my nephews. The things they do to me. When they are 15 they will undoubtedly want to puke when I tell them they used to snap my bra and try to give me wedgies. Today I taught them to say "nanner-nanner booger-snot" which seemed to please their mother as they yelled it from their car as they were leaving...

Saturday, I attended the memorial service of an elder at MPCC. His sons and daughter were all friends of mine growing up. I hate that they had to meet cancer face to face like this. Sucks. It was moving to see all the elders and their wives seated together in front. I'm sure it meant a great deal to the family. I didn't mind the service, I wanted to be there for this celebration of a life lived in faithfulness, but it was hard to be there with everything that has happened in the last several months. Thankful my sister cleared her already busy schedule to go with me. I left feeling out of place walking through the long hall to the parking lot. I was met with a few precious hugs from dear ladies I've missed and then fought the tears all the way home.

Anyway, Kev and I got some lunch and piddled the afternoon away. I went to the MPCC children's musical, which I always enjoy, especially since both nephews were participating as well as the one and only John Mitchell-who btw was very good...he teased us all with what appeared to be another of his infamous ad-libs but was saved by the intro of the next song before he could deliver....so close. It was great to see everyone, but again my heart was so heavy with loss and second-guessing that I cried all the way home again. I really thought I was past this. We wrapped up the evening with a couple episodes of "Roswell" and called it a night.

This morning was the first "spring forward" Sunday I didn't have to be at church at 6:30 internal time in forever. We thought about the 9:45 but nah...11:00 it is. As I fixed breakfast I was imagining the angels reminding the LORD that it was my birthday today and asking permission to insert a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday, Loretta" into their "holy, holy, holy" set, something I thought of last year and decided to make an annual event. Bacon frying, the bird's tweeting and God singing over me. Nice.

Kevin finished his breakfast and while performing his daily scanning of our walls and ceilings to check for any settling that may have occurred while he was sleeping says to me, "I thought about making you breakfast for your birthday, since I didn't get you anything, but you beat me to it. I'm a terrible husband. And I'm getting away with it."

You have to know Kevin. I laughed a lot.

We hustled to church and I'm telling you, it was the nicest of presents all said and done. I had spent most of Saturday in a funk for leaving so much of my life and heart behind me and I walk in this morning and it was just what I needed. All about getting uncomfortable, living a dangerous Christianity, one that looks nothing like what the church has settled into and about letting Jesus take over. The music was great, the team preaching was powerfully delivered, and the set absolutely rocked. And then he says that there are 366 times in the Bible that the words "be not afraid" are used. Preach it, baby. Light the candles, cut the cake, I'm going to be okay.

Hit the Tangerine Bowl for burgers and spent the late afternoon and early evening trying to fly kites, lots of kites with my family. What we lacked in sufficient wind to sustain any substantial flights, we made up for in more wrestling with the kids and a few laughs. One trip to the Maid Rite and we called it a day. As I write this Kevin is singing "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" in the kitchen and sounds a bit like Elvis. Shawna and John went to a comedy concert at MPCC and when they return we'll end a great weekend with a couple more episodes of "Roswell". My cup overfloweth.

All one word with an E...

Yesterday evening on our way home from Wal-Mart Kevin informed me that his co-workers had compassionately reminded him that today was April 1st. As he was getting in bed last night he threatened to leave me if I even think about pranking him today. He even said something about making me get a full-time job. Seriously. A full-time job.

Anyone who understands Kevin knows that he worries about EVERYTHING. He can barely operate during a thunderstorm. And I’ve just resigned myself to the realization it is just going to get worse in the years to come. [If a tornado ever does suck the water from our pool and drop it on our house one day I will owe him a huge apology]

Well, I’m a big April Fool's Day fan. My mom always pulled the silly stuff on us. Rip in the pants, something on your teeth, your boyfriend called…sort of things. But I never dreamed in a million springs that I would marry this man who while brilliant in so many ways could be so flat out gullible in others.

I’ve done lots of stupid stuff- setting the clocks ahead, replacing his shower gel with Hershey syrup etc. but honestly with such little investment I found myself wanting...well more. [He did get pretty upset with me the year we bought our new house and he was concerned about the increased mortgage payments. Fell hard for the “loan officer” [my friend Pam] calling to tell him our payment was late. Took him 2 seconds to call me and 2 minutes of heated reprimand for him to hear me saying repeatedly “April Fools”! Even then he asked me how I got someone from the bank to call…I’m telling you he’s ripe for the picking…]

But last year is the real reason his co-workers gave him a heads up yesterday. Last year was quite possibly a personal best and for sure a personal favorite. Last year he didn’t speak to me for a week.

We had a new brick mailbox crafted in the fall. We opted to have our address engraved by a monument company which is where this all began.

There is an east and west end of our subdivision. When we moved here I noticed discrepancies in the spelling of our subdivision everywhere from mailboxes to street signs. I have gotten used to saying “Silverthorne…all one word with an E.” Well, some folks omit the E and I want it on there. It just looks… prettier. So we’re standing in the monument office and I’m confirming that it’s “all one word…with an E” and Kevin goes into this discussion in front of the guy about whether we should put that E on there or not…like we could get arrested or something. I remember standing there in as much sheer joy that this is my life partner, the cute little thing…as total disbelief I was hearing what I was hearing. We added the E and called it a day. He thought.

This was November and I go back to work and share this little story of my life with my friend Pam. We both agree it would be the perfect prank and we wait. We wait almost 6 months. Ever the efficient office support assistant she saves it in her outlook calendar. I would have completely forgot and still waited till most of the day had passed as it was but she calls her aunt [only a few years older than her with the same great sense of humor] who lives in Chicago. She agrees to call Kevin at work and claim to be from the city clerk’s office with an order to remove the E from our address.

Okay. This may or may not be funny to read but I am telling you this was THE funniest experience of my life hands down. Pam arranged to have it all on speakerphone so we could listen from work. [Church office mind you…] What I didn’t bargain for was the soon to realize convenience of being able to bleep certain words and phrases from a conversation. Kevin fell hard. Really, really hard. And it’s a very good thing Renee was a fellow prankster and recognized the unpredictability involved. He’s in commercial art and is always rushing from one job to the other so he didn’t have time to even think this through when he went to the phone. Otherwise he might have remembered what day it was, he might have noticed she called our township a “village” and he might have realized they couldn’t really fine him $250 if it wasn’t removed in thirty days. He was using some less than church friendly language and I wanted with all my heart to get him off the speakerphone but I was flat on the floor seriously thinking I was really going to pee my pants this time. He was just so mad. And Renee she just kept saying how she understood how upset he was but there were complaints from a neighbor and covenant agreements.

I know they talked for 10 minutes. It seemed like days. And it took him 20 minutes to finally call my cell phone. When he did he tried to tell me there was a contractor at our house removing our mailbox. He better leave this type of thing to the pros. I laughed. He didn’t. He had yelled so loudly on the phone and the moments following that his employees had gathered around to see what was going on. I even managed to get them discussing whether or not they could make us change the address…and then someone asked him if he remembered what day it was. I guess they all had a pretty good laugh and decided to help him turn the tables only I didn’t fall. But he fell hard enough for both of us. Hard enough that once he realized he had just reamed a total stranger and began to suffer the embarrassment that followed he didn’t speak to me for at least a week. The whole speakerphone in the church office part didn’t help…

So. Here I sit writing about what was quite possibly my best work ever and contemplating whether or not to give him the year off. He’s not having a great week. Shawna had a fender-bender last week, Kevin and I had one yesterday and our sizeable bbq grill blew over in the pool two nights ago, tearing the cover and denting the grill. And then there’s the whole full time job thing. We’ll just have to wait and see.

Sometimes one likes foolish people for their folly, better than wise people for their wisdom.

-- Elizabeth Gaskell