angels on the side

wonderful wednesday..

2011-10-06T01:05:00.000-05:00

Morning at home- read some, walked some. Great lunch with Sha. Meant a great deal to hear her say That was helpful- as she left the car and headed back to work. I love her so and am as curious as she is to see who she has become this side of the boys. Changed everything.

A bit of a rushed afternoon, thanks to copier quirks but a great day. A little one on one with Nikki, a little choir, a little rehearsal and a little chat with Neal. Wonder...

Topped her off with DOOL with Kev. Still a little weird he goes to rehearsal somewhere else. And tonight he got Sha. Wish I could hear her sing. Thankful she felt it went well and found some joy in singing...

Really thankful about that.

2011-10-04T23:56:00.002-05:00

Another great staff meeting this morning. Love these people. Challenges me to pour into the people I know He has placed in my life.

Kids came over for dinner-they never cease to amaze me. Seeing them grow into these people God is using to influence a core group of young people is pretty fun. They really do seem to be living out relational discipleship in about the most natural fashion I've seen. Grateful...

family famine...

2011-07-26T12:09:00.000-05:00

Reading an update on the famine in southern Somalia I finally noticed that many are walking for hours in the heat of the sun to find food in Kenya and....Ethiopia. It struck me that my grandchildren might be among those who are hungry and displaced. How quickly the heart engages when it gets personal...it's pretty easy to donate to help...

2011-07-12T10:23:00.001-05:00

"If I keep my eyes on God, I won’t trip over my own feet."- (Psalm 25:15 MSG)

2011-07-06T17:53:00.000-05:00

Paraphrasing a Mark Driscoll sermon on Ephesians 2: We are on Team Jesus when we have no right to even be at the game.

Thankful for the saving work of Jesus Christ.

it's all relative...

2011-06-27T14:14:00.000-05:00

Trees everywhere. Driving through the subdivision seeing roots where grass used to be, crossing town and seeing traffic diverted away from power lines and more fallen trees makes you shake your head and repeat phrases like you've heard on the news. We have repairable fencing and roof issues, as well as being without power for twelve hours now, but it seriously pales with the pictures and realities of places like Joplin- even the ones a month into the aftermath. So I'll manage my whine and live with my fluffy hair, thankful that a lack of flat-iron and melting ice cream is all I have to deal with today.

a courageous heart...for the glory of God...

2011-06-11T22:41:00.000-05:00

Karen Dye interviewed Shawna a couple weeks ago for an episode on A Courageous Heart We are grateful for the continued opportunity to share Jad and Kal with those who hear their story. As always, we pray that someone, somewhere, finds encouragement in the midst of their own difficulties and that God is honored and glorified by the testimony shared. We sure do miss our little boys and as a mom, I covet your continued prayer for Shawna as her heart continues to heal, and for John as he grieves this loss. All these months later it is still unreal to a great degree. Life sweeps us forward but their absence is felt in ever increasing measure...

whipped cream and other delights...

2011-06-10T17:26:00.002-05:00

I remember thinking my mom was fanatically protective of my sister and I. She was every youth pastors nightmare from swirly patrol to parental screening of every-move-we-made. The same mom once painted the cover of a Herb Alpert Whipped Cream and Other Delights album cover when there was too much delight and not enough whipped cream. I was sheltered. I was protected. To the degree that I remember leaving movies like "The Towering Inferno" and "Tommy" feeling unarmed and nauseous. I remember only pieces of a conversation I had with my parents one summer on the living room sofa. They were asking about tickets to an operetta I was accompanying at the college and I didn't want them to come, which was a first. I had avoided any and all conversation to do with this particular project (also a first) because I knew she would not approve of its content. I still love the music of Candide and can remember the challenge of learning the score and the thrill of being a part of such a talented cast, but I also remember how sick I felt inside to have to tell her what I had hidden from her and why.

Looking back these events were the beginning of my desensitization to world. Add in my appetite and curiosity for romance and I'm beyond grateful Kevin was my first and only. My nature has such aptitude for falls it is only by the call of God on my life that my list of consequence isn't longer than it is.

At some point I developed quite the healthy self-esteem, not to be confused with self-confidence, and I have never had any trouble liking myself. Always felt loved, cared for, respected. And actually, I think I'm pretty awesome half the time. A fault to be sure if reverence and appropriate regard for the holiness of God Almighty is expected. Even dangerous, should the gospel I love so much leave me unchallenged, ungrateful, unignited. And that is what had become of me. I thank God for granting me the grace to recognize my apathy and His faithfulness to be found when I turn and seek, but I have to say I am pretty surprised He would recall for me those particular markers. In light of what my eyes see now, in light of the lack of content that provokes few if any "flags" (never to the state of nausea) I know undoubtedly I am not working out my salvation with fear or trembling. Entitlement, maybe. Certainly I have easily forgotten my reflection and walked too long away from the mirror.

I have been listening to a host of sermons on Holiness, Sin, Heaven and Hell. I have been praying intently for the Holy Spirit to illumine, to convict, to teach, to frighten, to discipline, to critique, to awe, to excite, to ignite, to revive, to redirect, to inspire every bit of my heart. I have always loved everything about my Trinity. I haven't intentionally wandered or lived defiantly to His will, but I have somehow, ironically in the midst of all-things-worship, lost my need for the cross. And through my petitioning and earnest searchings His rich mercy let me see this verse with new eyes.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

Philippians 4:8

I have known that verse forever and always apply it to fixing our eyes on the prize, to helpful discipleship. What I had never seen before is that thinking about "these things" doesn't only keep us from sin, it might be the key to recognizing sin, in light of His holiness, to begin with. This was no coincidental recall for me. I know God is showing me when it began and why. I believe He wants me to remember the nausea I felt and to recognize that as guilt, a guilt I have long learned to manage and silence. And without guilt, what hope do I have to moved by the cross or my salvation? No wonder His holiness doesn't slam me to my knees. I tell you what, it's a strange thing, but the uglier I view myself, the more certain I am that I am headed the right direction, again. I am the world's daughter and I have been dancing on the fence. I would laugh at someone painting that album cover even now, but there is an awakening that begins in tiny passes whenever we think about things that aren't true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent or worthy of praise and it is an awakening to compromise and justification, to mediocrity and self-acceptance. It lowers the throne to the degree it (He) no longer awes, it (He) no longer trembles, it (He) no longer terrifies. Or at least that's what I reason has happened to me. Too much delight, not enough whipped cream...

granite memories...for the glory of God...

2011-06-01T17:37:00.000-05:00

Greenmount placed the monument early last week at the boys grave site. We met together with some friends and family on Memorial Day to remember, place some flowers and make another attempt at wrapping our flesh around what this is. I've been to grave sites before. This one has a different presence about it. Could be the pictures engraved on the other side- of the little guys that should be crawling around and learning to talk. Could be seeing Shawna and John's names in granite. Could be Maher's timely lyric or the letter to the boys in Shawna's handwriting. It's all gorgeous- John and Shawna did a wonderful job making the challenging decisions about what they wanted carved in stone. Something that would bear worthy, meaningful testimony to what happened in us through this, something that would be beautiful enough for these little servants. These little men of God. I hope you are afforded the chance to see it in person and if you are, that you'll be ministered to the way I think you will. If you come, plan some time to pray. You'll know what to pray for when you stand there. He's alive. They're alive. And for the glory of God, we remember.

2011-05-23T14:15:00.000-05:00

this is a better view of the stems...they are joined all the way to the two blooms. our story: intentional gift from the Father...

2011-05-20T11:43:00.000-05:00

A couple weeks ago I began a head trip to examine my self-righteousness, my speed to judge/critique, and my sad lack of emotional response to the holiness of God. Like spotting certain cars in traffic when you're in the market for a trade-in I have been having a tough time keeping up with all the reads, podcasts and scriptures relevant to my examination. Add in Heaven and Hell and my mind and heart are simmering if not bubbling over with life. Yes life. And fire. Had some gut punches, some tears, some dancing in the street moments, but loving that God answers all desires to know and fear Him in worthy manner. I'm excited about the process...

The Holiness of God- RC Sproul...worth a listen...or two...

2011-05-20T11:20:00.000-05:00

This double bloom, conjoined if you will, greeted Shawna yesterday in the midst of a "blue day". Thankful for tender hugs from the Almighty Healer...

Eight months...

2011-05-20T11:17:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow will be eight months. A hammering reminder that life. goes. on. Thankful more than you know, that it goes on in Christ. That it goes on in covered prayers, in the company of great friends and family who remember, send notes of encouragement and hugs. Even as her mother, there are days and moments she has to walk through that I don't know about, or that I know about afterwards and it makes me feel at a loss but for the peace of knowing He lives in and around her and is never unaware. And maybe He wants it that way. Moments unspoiled by human attempts to console or strengthen and an empty void only He can and should ever fill. What beautiful HOPE He is. Thank you for extending His mercies through your continued expressions not just to me, but especially to John and Shawna as they continue to mourn their loss.

He's alive. They're alive. For the Glory of God...

for better, for worse...

2011-05-06T10:54:00.001-05:00

"For better or worse" are easy words to say when family and friends are gathered and everyone is dressed in their wedding best. They become a matter of honor and choice when faced with circumstances like John and Shawna faced this last year. I realize God's hand was upon and His power within as they were able to draw closer to each other instead of apart, and for that I thank Him. I also know the type of people they are and how much they love each other, and for that I also thank Him. Since they providentially lived with us throughout the infamous 2010, I can attest to their vows and was blessed to see their faith in action behind the proverbial walls. I am able to connect those "dots" God places before us even in the midst of that whirlwind with Jad and Kal. Though there are certain to be ones that connect in the realms of mystery only, there are plenty to keep us busy and enamored in the physical; and as romantic as they proved to be as a wedding signature, they continue to provide a great awareness of the sovereignty of God.

Shawna and John began the day today with a nice breakfast, typical of their Fridays off. Then they finalized the plans for the grave monument they will share with their boys. I texted her that it was certainly a 'unique' to-do for an anniversary. She texted back: "Yeah, really. Just worked out that way." and then she wrote: "He's alive. They're alive. Just gotta keep the mindset :)"

As another dot lined up in my head, I smiled remembering the Ravi Zacharias podcast I had finished minutes before as he shared about the night his mother passed away suddenly. "Not gone. Gone Home.." Just gotta keep the mindset.

Happy 5th Anniversary, John and Shawna. Trusting and believing God has a storehouse of "better" on the way. Although I would rally to add that all said and done, there was nothing "worse" about our little witnesses. We just have to wait a little while before we can see them face to face.

I love you...

on order...

2011-04-20T10:20:00.000-05:00

John and Shawna went for their first home-study interview in Springfield yesterday. In addition to the paperwork already submitted and a "down-payment" of sorts, they are joining the special rank of parents applying for and awaiting adoption. In my many imaginings of what her life would hold I never once allowed for this. Never once thought she'd be corraling muliple little ones, let alone ones from a world away. But that's just my narrow dreamscape in paling contrast to all the plans He has for her. Another lesson the child teaches the mother. She's been teaching me from day one and I suspect we're just getting started...

missing girl...

2011-04-17T00:57:00.000-05:00

I look back at pictures of Shawna before she lost her sons and find a sad distinction between her then and now eyes. Deep, brown, lovely as ever, but now reflecting an unspoken reminder of the sadness she learned, the innocence forfeited for the chance to be a mother. There are glimpses of my little one now and again, and oh, I soak up each delightful wrinkle that frames them when she smiles- but they are different. They are so very different. Score one for a broken world, she isn't coming back. But the one who remains is all the more beautiful to me, all the more mine, and all the more remarkable. I pine for the sparkles but promise not to dwell. A mother's eyes, they see, they speak, they feel...

silver and gold...

2011-03-11T21:45:00.000-06:00

kevin's pretty worked up about the likes of the world at large and at home. he watched some video online last night and he didn't sleep very well. wants us to consider stocking up on emergency supplies, trading our ira's for silver and gold and getting gun licenses. what happened to buying the wife some nice earrings...

...223-8841...

2011-03-01T22:25:00.000-06:00

I would have called my dad tonight. That thought crossed my mind after I finished teaching and starting thinking about supper. It was a night I would have called to see if he had eaten yet. He would have told me he had- probably broiled a pork chop or something hours earlier, and I would have teased him about being old. He would have taken a rain check and I would have wished I had called him sooner...

googled my way back...

2011-02-25T23:18:00.000-06:00

I can't believe I'm posting. I was actually googling something else and the top link of the search was you, my precious 'angels on the side'. Not to mention I was listening to God's directions for building the ark of the covenant in Exodus yesterday and was once again reminded of the reason I named you what I did in the first place. My infatuation with facebook is my lame defense and my writing has for the most part disintegrated into 400+ character status updates instead of pouring my heart out to you. I won't make any empty promises to you, but I am going to think about reconnecting with you once again. I owe you the consideration if nothing else, for all the pieces of my life I've left in your keeping. I wasn't even sure you'd be waiting. Wouldn't blame you one bit if you had given up on me once and for all. I've missed you...even if I didn't know it until now...

poundage...

2010-03-07T23:56:00.000-06:00

So in the fall of '05 I started counting points. I swore I'd never gain it back and here I sit disgusted and defeated. I dread the thought of starting over. Seriously. Truth is, nothing's going to fit when I start pulling out my Springwear. I did so well for so long and then I just plumped up again.

Well. Tomorrow I start counting again. I'm not going to feel anything but miserable until I reverse this cycle. Again.

Wish me luck. Better yet, wish me discipline. The Girl Scout cookies are beckoning from the counter. If I could reach them without getting up I'd already be eating them.

I love you too...

2010-02-13T11:04:00.000-06:00

thirteen years ago today I spent the day making sure dad had something to eat, even if he wasn't all that hungry. even if all he really wanted was for mom to wake up. it was a day a lot like this one. gray, chilly, and the day before Valentine's Day. which is why I made a run to the mall to find some gifts for Shawna and other family. which is why I wasn't there when she left us, and I will always wish I had been. neither here nor there. I have freeze-locked the moment she nearly yelled "I love you, I love you, I love you!" as they gave her some pain medicine that made her comfortable but also put her into a deep sleep for the remaining four days. I can't believe I missed "it"- her quiet exit from this side to the other, but I did. I didn't however miss her last emphatic expression of her love for us. she loved us, loved us, loved us. and she spent her life meaning it...

give it to me straight....

2010-02-12T09:20:00.002-06:00

I remember being told by a youth minister/choir director in my early teen years that my voice needed more vibrato, that my tone was too straight. 30 years later and I'm staring at an unopened CD set "Mastering Vibrato", not because my tone is too straight, but because like many other female vocalists with a passion for contemporary worship songs, I have more vibrato than I know what to do with. It has been a difficult passage for me to come to peace with not leading worship vocally but I have. Anyone who has spent their life sitting alone at a piano singing away, has an understandably challenging time seperating the two mediums of expression from each other. They have always gone hand in hand for me. I sing and play. Play and sing, and it's been a little trip for me transitioning to "play".

So we'll open this thing up and see if old cords can learn new tricks. If they can, I'm hoping to help fellow voices learn to manage their vibrations in a contemporary-friendly way. If not, well it looks like Mylie will just get an earful at home. To date, she has yet to complain... And if that doesn't work I can always see if the Symphony Chorus needs a soprano :)

two.thousand.ten...

2010-01-07T16:17:00.000-06:00

Snow managed to find us before Christmas but I still had a tough time embracing my normally jolly spirit. I'm never the bah-humbug at this address but I sure was this year. I bucked up and checked off the list with half-hearted flair but just couldn't muster up the goods to make it legit. That said I did enjoy the day and those that quickly disappeared thereafter. What baffles me is that all the stars aligned for it to be the best one ever: Shawna, the one and only, back in her room upstairs; baking cookies together, wrapping presents together, lots of time around the table...I have no idea what was wrong with me. Still don't. It wasn't even the busiest December of all time. Whatever.

Anyway, we are all well. Better than well. There are the usual worries manned by the head of the house, but given the list of things people are dealing with these days, we are blessed. Kevin has assumed several job descriptions at JK, requiring him to work his way through the fears and stress of learning new things at a stage of career he would much rather coast through but he has done so if not without complaint at least with enough grace to make me proud of him and his ability to grasp everything thrown at him in a course of a day. Shawna is awesome as usual. I just love my girl. Being able to see her minister to people has been really cool. I'm really proud of how her and John pour themselves out for their friends and their sheep. Between the two of them someone is always trying to call them or needs some type of help and they always spring to action. Makes me tired.

John is neck-deep in renovating the newest Crossing Campus, 929 Monroe. As awesome as it is, as much as God has His hand in it all, I'm trying my best not to think about the fact that I will no longer be playing with him and Shawna for weekend worship. Dang. The three of us have played together since they were in Junior High. Really don't want to think about it. Even though I'm positive Shawna is just going to bloom. I just have a feeling. And it looks like my hubby is going to be taking a leap and playing bass with them. How crazy is that? My whole family playing together without me. All good. And pretty sure it's all God, too. Can't exactly mess with that then can I?

I'm 5 months into an 18 month program at church, MDI (Ministry Development Institute). Each class is 6 weeks long, meets for 3 hours on Tuesday and requires nightly homework, most of which I cram into 1 or 2. We've been through Experiencing God and a history of the Christian Church/Crossing, New Testament & Acts, Old Testament and currently Life of Christ...For as much as I've learned so far I've realized how much I may never know or come close to understanding. One of the neatest aspects of the program is getting to really know everyone so much better than I did already. We have an awesome staff. And how cool that my son-in-law sits next to me most weeks. Also very cool. This class has been a positive thing for both those taking it and the staff who are teaching it. I think it has grown us all and drawn us closer to the God we minister through and to those we minister alongside.

Still fighting the weight thing. Always fighting the weight thing. But we bought a treadmill. And an Ab-Circle Pro. Shut up. John and Sha are beating themselves up with P90X and I'm going to let them. I want to be fit but there's not a chance in the down-under that my six pack will see the light of day before they bury me.

The oddest part of our year-end has to be going from putting our house on the market and having it "Open House" ready to absorbing two more people, a dog and a cat into 1404. John and Shawna sold their house in October and are looking into the possibility of renovating Dad's sheet metal shop. We've spent the last couple months selling off equipment and inventory etc. but have a lot to do before they can begin. The process is moving but barely. And some days it seems like it's slower than others. Kevin has had his moments but I'll hand it to him, he's doing pretty well. If you know Kevin, seeing him snoozing on the sofa with Mylie on one side and Sam on the other (on the sofa!) has been unbelievable. All said and done, I'm hoping we all still love one another madly at the end of this process. Still, it's a real blessing having the extra time with them.

Hope your year is off to a great start. May He hem it in from all sides and lay His hand upon it. Be sure to say hi and catch me up if you have a minute...

Love to all...

2009-09-11T15:46:00.001-05:00

"Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul." -Psalm 143:8

I spent a deal of time yesterday thinking about the losses in my life. By losses, specifically loved ones gone home. No secret that this time of year tends to do that to me, but of late there are a number of people in my life dealing with death or illness and I always identify with their fears and sadness. The list of things you go through is not only endless and in constant shift, but often unexpainable to even those who have buried someone and had to make that walk back to the car. Loss is completely a personal thing and the way we navigate its scars on our internal skin can't really be shared or understood by anyone else completely, no matter how much they love us or want to share or understand.

Sorrow waits for us while we sleep. She doesn't lose interest or wander away in the moonlight. And as intense as the relief waking from a nightmare to discover it was only a bad dream is the disappointment to realize it wasn't. That moment you figure out you're right where you left off before you finally managed to fall asleep and your heart sinks as you step back into the horror film in progress. Let the morning bring word of Your unfailing love. It doesn't say let the morning bring answers. Let the morning bring some type of explanation, or miracle, just love. And when my head hits the pillow at night it is His love I count on. I know He loves me.

It eventually gets better. The sadness seasons the rest of who we have become and we notice one day we don't want to throw up anymore and the tears, though unpredicatable, become an almost welcome assurance that these people are still a part of us and that despite the temptation to castle our hearts, we still love and feel and believe it's worth the heartache.

And so I love and I trust in His. And I pray mightily for those who are in the middle of their sadness...

lend me thine ears...

2009-09-05T13:50:00.004-05:00

I made the mistake of politely asking him if for the duration of breakfast at Sprouts we could talk about something other than his transitions at work, which for the last several weeks has been our sole topic. (save for the commercial breaks to talk about the economy) Big mistake. In addition to the tongue lashing I received (hurt feelings packaged as anger) was the awkward silence as he pouted across the table from me. Noted.

I then reasoned that I am his only safe human audience and that saying 'I do' meant promising to listen to his ever-rotating topics whether they captivate me or not. And so I ask him what he was using my laptop for last night, already knowing the answer.

He can talk for hours about his job and what it requires of his unique mind. The hardest part of listening to it all is staying mentally present without speaking. If I've learned anything about him in all these years it's that he's rarely seeking answers. The answers are already there in his beautiful mind. It's just that they are usually buried beneath the clouds of worries or countless files of experience and knowledge that have accumulated there over the years. He just really needs my ears to help him organize things until he gets there on his own. I absorb the chaos. And I promised him I would. Not in so many words, and without realizing it at the time. When I see him working it out, word-by-word-by-word, I realize how very intelligent he is. I realize that he may well be some type of genius in his arena. And if someone isn't there for him to let him verbally sift through the mounds of information he has to deal with, he'll burst. I am that someone and forgive me for the times I'm not up for the job.

2009-09-03T23:48:00.007-05:00

"Once you become self-conscious, there is no end to it; once you start to doubt, there is no room for anything else." ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic's Notebook, 1960

The call came Friday morning. The voices started arguing immediately. In my right mind there is no possible reason I would even consider declining but in my left mind- the one where the voice reminds me in bulleted points why I should or at least want to is as usual shouting so loudly I can barely hear what she's saying. This makes me sound emotionally unstable I realize but it's how I navigate this life of mine. I freeze. I incapacitate myself all. the. time.

I don't know if the voices accompanied the weight gain over the years or if I was always this way but I wonder sometimes how I ever managed to direct anything. I peek at the people I have been over the years and am amazed at how she did it. How I did it. These days if I can't hide behind a band or laptop I just want to dissolve. And the right mind patiently holds her arms out, begging me to trust her, to jump and the left side shuts. me. down.

Fortunately the mind is only one (or two) of the whole and the heart and soul have matured enough to recognize the struggle and begin the process of matter over mind. And what matters is saying yes to opportunities that have God written all over them, which my whole mind already knows but is too busy batting fears back and forth to make a move. I'm hopeless, I know.

The voices know I'm on to them and the heart will rub her victory in their faces until I feel that water on my feet. I'm already imagining the rapid pacing of my pulse, the stifling awareness of my self and the possibility the voices aren't going to give up. But I am going to defy them and allow myself to participate in the eternal. I am going to do my best to forget about how I may or may not look to people who may or may not notice and baptize two very special people God has trusted me to shepherd. They will lay everything on the line and I'm not about to do anything less.

"Spirit can walk, spirit can swim, spirit can climb, spirit can crawl. There is no terrain you cannot overcome." ~Irisa Hail

2009-08-28T12:49:00.003-05:00

Save me a seat.

Simple request at face value, but from the perspective of where I'm actually sitting it's anything but simple. And the road to get here, to this seat, in this stretch of the road isn't really all that simple either.

I sit here trying to concentrate on what is being discussed and all my head can think about are the odds of me sitting next to my son-in-law in a Bible class. Odds? Well, nothing I could have ever imagined a month ago let alone years. God is just something else. I'm still not sure if I have the goods to make it through an 18 month program without my colleagues discovering I know a lot less than maybe they assume, or if all this homework will get the best of me. And as much as I fear both those things, I also kind of hope for both. That I can just come clean and say, I don't know much. And every time I think I do, I figure out I know even less than I thought I did. And I hope all this homework (Bible study on steroids...) gets the best of me, it needs to. I think I'm pretty great at regurgitating the poetic thoughts of other thinkers and rule at quoting one author after another, I'm just afraid of admitting that without that fount of babble I got nothing. And they will know.

But I saved his seat. And I prayed over him, asking God to impart Himself to him and grow him, even more than I want that for myself. And I thanked Him for letting me enjoy this chance to come clean, to begin where the real me meets the real Him and to let Him teach me. I hear Dr. Lowery's words about humility ringing in my ears and that's what I want. I want to begin in humility, knowing God will teach me with new eyes, new ears and new hope. I want to know Him like never before. And getting to do this with my son-in-law sitting next to me overflows my heart and blows. my. mind.

Good is God.

really blew it this time...

2009-08-19T17:14:00.002-05:00

I have settled into the pace of updating my FB status and haven't thought about my AOTS for.ever. Me thinks it's time. I'm going to add updating her to my growing list of personal goals for the fall. We'll see if anyone cares.

pet supply catalog...

2009-03-25T21:27:00.001-05:00

An "exercise" fence and a "muzzle". Is it just me or are there some significant marketing flaws here?

deja view...

2009-03-25T21:24:00.003-05:00

him: I just watched "Luther" upstairs.

me: It's really good. We watched it before.

him: No I didn't. I've never seen it before.

me: We watched it together. You liked it.

him: Nope. Never seen it.

pause.

him: So we could watch it again in a month if you want.

2009-03-10T00:00:00.001-05:00

him again: you ever write on that blog of yours anymore?? you were all about that stupid thing a year ago...

A N I M A L S....

2009-03-09T23:59:00.001-05:00

him [when I ask if we're taking Mylie to see the animals at the vet's home tonight]: "Don't say 'animals'...spell it out or she'll go nuts...."

2009-02-20T00:06:00.001-06:00

me: noticing the empty chip bag in the trash- "Kevin. You ate a whole bag of chips today!"

him: from the couch in the living room- "There was just a quarter of the bag left..."

me: slowly recovering from the shock of finding the empty chip bag in the trash- "You have to quit eating so many chips...I didn't buy any at the store, so this is the bag you bought YESTERDAY. You ate a whole bag of chips in 24 hours!"

him: annoyed but undaunted- "Why do you always have to be SO specific! That's two days if you ask me..."

back by storm...

2009-02-10T18:51:00.001-06:00

It’s been years in the praying, but last night, listening to him testify to our small group that God makes good on His promises, will make my fav list of 2009 and then some. Hearing him say how turning off the morning news channels and spending that 45 minutes immersed in the WORD had not only created a thirst and anticipation to read more, pray more, listen more; but had supernaturally replaced much of the anxiety current events and news creates with a peace that passes and lasts into his work day and beyond. Hearing him communicate that these times of communion have taken God from this far-away box and notion into an internal, personal relationship just. about. floored. me. And still does. But it shouldn’t. Because God makes good on His promises. And He is only getting started. His WORD is alive and even a lifer like me can often underestimate its power. I married a believer but not a spiritual leader with a hunger for Christ. The day he said yes to lead a small group (kicking and screaming most of the way) all that began to change. I worry sometimes if it will last or if it’s just a phase and then I remind myself of my Sovereign God and let Him walk me through where He’s brought us so far. It’s pretty crazy to think about sometimes. All those prayers. All those promises. All God.

“God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.

Glory to God in the church!
Glory to God in the Messiah, in Jesus!
Glory down all the generations!
Glory through all millennia! Oh, yes!”

- Ephesians 3:20-21 (The Msg)

2008-11-26T07:53:00.002-06:00

I thank God nearly every day for the gift of having Shawna living 5 minutes away from me and for the amount of precious time I get to spend with her. I try pretty diligently not to take that blessing for granted. So I clearly wouldn't trade that for anything in the world. I wouldn't. But I still find myself as Thanksgiving nears each year observing the gathering cars and family of others not so fortunate and befuddled by the envy I feel. I suppose, after all, I do in fact take it for granted or I wouldn't feel like I'm missing out on all the excitement and anticipation of seeing loved ones for maybe the first time all year, if not longer. I'm a silly girl. Like someone wishing they were sick so they could get presents or something as imbalanced as that. This year, however, for reasons unknown this side of the tapestry, just about everyone on my maternal side of the family is rolling into town for Thanksgiving. People who haven't assembled in 30 years or so all at once. Counting funerals. And weddings. So I'm excited. Really excited. Not as excited about gathering in a fellowship hall in lieu of a cozy, crowded home, but the mental benefits and clean up should be easier on all involved.

Several of my cousins on their way are notorious for their humor. I have a little of my own. Cue the laughter. Cue the countdown. And envy be gone...

2008-11-18T22:31:00.003-06:00

They claim up to 80% of people who suffer limb loss experience phantom sensations at least once in their lifetime. My question is this: what percentage of people who suffer loss of loved ones experience the phantom sensation they are still alive? Sensory phenomenon aside I'd be set for life if I had a nickel for every time I instinctively want to call...

As great as it feels for that split second lapse it sure sucks when it passes...

2008-11-16T22:11:00.002-06:00

I'm actually defying my desire to be in bed snuggled next to my darling Mylie right now out of guilt for ignoring my sweet angels on the side for far too long. Shame on me, after her faithful and unconditional account of much of my life these last four years. Is it just me, or is life these days just plain crazy busy?! And what really befuddles me is the fact that I'm not even close to being as busy as I used to be. Nuts, I tell you. Nuts.

Mylie just had her bath. Tolerates it at best. Smells good enough to eat. Can't wait to snuggle. I missed her this weekend. (I missed Kevin too, but she's the only one who consistently pees herself when I come through the door.)

John and Shawna came over after joining us for dinner at Sprouts this evening. I miss their dating years (occasionally). I get more sleep these days, but I get nostalgic for our hours spent feeding our addiction to seasons of 24, LOST, Smallville and Roswell. Now they veg on their own couch and we play with a puppy.

Shawna and I were both pretty tired already but one has to eat. We note by note made it through a four hour rehearsal for Bethlehem Experience this afternoon and considering we were both out of town the last two days, were reasonably prepared for it. Rolled back into town right before rehearsal for weekend services yesterday and there went the weekend.

There are certain exhaustions worth the bother and shopping in St. Louis with my Shawna all to myself certainly makes the list. Met up with the sister-in-laws and nieces and enjoyed a nice dinner together and catch up. And did I mention having my Shawna all to myself.

We were both running a bit on empty when we left Friday from a late Thursday night. She always has Fuel and Kevin and I have small group at our house. Not to mention rehearsal on Wednesday night and dinner at John and Shawna's Tuesday and our other small group was at our house Monday night. Oh, and work. Yes, there's always work. It doesn't often feel like work but it still consumes a significant amount of those fleeting hours that fleet at record pace the older I get. And I'm not even as in the thick of things as once upon a time. In the last 30 days by group effort and divine assistance (emphasis divine assistance) Crossing-Kirksville launched well and a Crossing-Quincy Worship CD is being produced. And of course people are hip deep in Bethlehem Experience. Exceptions: the indoor entertainment (namely us) who are only ankle deep and need to be hip deep. I swear it's September. Is it possible our calendar could fall prey to some sort of terrorist scheme to screw with my calm and happy place...

I smile at the notion of gathering my favorite special people two weeks from now for John and Tyler's ordination. (So don't even think of not showing up.) Without fail, it will be here and over before I post again. Nothing much to be done about it I suppose. I just keep dragging my tired self to bed each night, thanking the Almighty for provision and grace and giving my best shot at actually seeing the life that I'm beyond blessed to live. Although I know there are precious chunks of it I never get my sights on. Still I aim.

39 days until Christmas everybody. 38 by the time I post this baby. To all a good night.

people get ready...

2008-09-27T21:28:00.002-05:00

Pretty sure they may be grooming the big white stallion.

Kevin's leading a Bible study-
The Cub's are winning-
And they make Cool Whip in a spray.

2008-09-25T07:43:00.002-05:00

A friend called me yesterday to say that someone shared with her their recent and ongoing struggle to transfer to the Crossing. A familiar local struggle, that of informing Catholic parents and extended family of a decision to change churches. (I'm not sure people raised in strong Catholic homes ever completely leave the Catholic faith; they do grow past it in increasing measure as their appetites for more intimate and personal spiritual growth and understanding are discovered and nurtured.) I do not underestimate this struggle knowing well the years spent enduring my own ostracism when a protestant mother fought to raise my sister and I in opposition to my father's Catholic faith. Nothing pretty or easy about it.

Two weeks ago after a Wednesday rehearsal, I asked Shawna what we should play for communion music over the coming weekend. She asked about the sermon topic which happened to be a number of parables; Lost sheep. Lost coin. Lost son. She suggested the song I had been thinking about and I laughed that she had read my mind.

I guess from what she told me over the phone that it was a decision laying heavily on the heart of this couple for some time- one that they had been burdened with and praying about a great deal over the last few months. Enough so that the woman sheepishly decided to unroll a "fleece" before the LORD in desperate need of a sign.

I could tell Shawna was impatient with me to make up my middle aged mind. I just couldn't decide between the two songs. I liked the one we landed on at rehearsal but we haven't really used it in a while and I really liked this other recent favorite too. I could also tell she didn't care. As the communion meditation began I handed her the chart for our original pick. She smiled.

She felt a little silly confessing her story to my friend and even in the re-telling I could sense the timid hope she must have clung to as she laid it down and waited. Through our opening song set. Through the invitation set. Waiting. Wanting.

We began to play.

She began to weep.

Her husband didn't know what was going on, completely unaware that she had asked God for a sign that morning on the way to service, or that the service was drawing to a close without an answer.

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found, t'was blind but now I see."

I can't even tell you what other song was in the running that day. I can only tell you that Shawna and I both chose the song independent of the other's decision. I can only tell you that we don't use it often for services. I can only tell you that as I heard her testimony I immediately remembered my waffling over the two songs and remembered being drawn to the hymn repeatedly. Almost stubbornly.

My prayer of late has been for God to get bigger in my eyes. More holy. More mighty. More unknown, if that makes sense. But in moments like these I realize that sometimes He's small enough, tender enough, known enough to hear the silent cry of a desperate daughter and play her favorite song.

2008-09-20T22:16:00.002-05:00

overheard in baby talk from the other room...

"Hello, little precious."

"Are you my little precious?"

"Are you my precious little girl?"

"You are my precious little girl, yes you are."

"Time for bed little precious."

2008-09-20T21:00:00.002-05:00

So we took a walk with Mylie yesterday evening. Lovely evening. Lovely walk. And then...

She pooped.

She doesn't usually do that while walking so I was unprepared to be neighbor friendly. We weren't that far from home (subdivision style) so I suggested Kevin go grab a baggie while I stayed there as a "deposit for her deposit", just in case neighbor be watching.

Oh. no. he didn't.

They may be small but they be poop. And they be in his hand. And they still be in his hand when we rounded 15th to find another neighbor's little yorkie-poo running toward us. And when said neighbor catches up to us, stands and swaps puppy chat with us. If he had extended his hand to Kevin to shake I would have peed. my. pants. Kevin headed home to sanitize his hand and Mylie and I finished the neighborhood.

Now that's some kind of funny. Some kind of funny.

2008-09-08T13:28:00.002-05:00

I've probably blogged it before, but I've been recalling a day spent with my dad several years ago. It was a fall day so I'm sure the seasonal changes are setting the stage for my minds eye but it was one of those frozen in time days I would pick if ever given the chance for a replay.

I was over my head in irreconcilable differences at church, had just resigned my cherished ministry and was experiencing the loss and grief of all that involved at the time. It was a Tuesday. A day usually spent preparing for the weekend services but a day I wisely, if not divinely elected to accept my dad's invitation to have lunch. In Ursa.

Dad loved his little roadside cafes. And he loved the chicken in Ursa. I don't remember our conversation really, even thinking there wasn't that much of it, I just remember the call and the awareness that I needed to say yes.

After lunch he asked if I wanted to take a trip to the old camp on the levee. (or rather the remains of what used to be the old camp on the the levee...) He drove us through the familiar route we traveled so often growing up and at the pace he always traveled it: relaxed with no where to be. I kept the rocks he handed me from the bank we crossed to the river and listened as he remembered his own mental pages. He was so tall and so quiet. I miss his white t-shirts and lumbering gait. His large tanned hands and goofy sense of humor. I miss walking behind him and feeling that safe. I miss that day.

We walked along the strip of flood ravaged camps and rubble and I listened to his stories of what used to be. Stories of taking my mom fishing and their hours spent together. This trip might well have been for his soul as much as mine..

We drove back to Quincy via the scenic route and pace and he asked if I was in a hurry to be back. Another divine decision, I said no. We headed to West Quincy to get some gas and then he decided to drive to Canton and LaGrange. A beautiful fall drive to be sure. I remember having the windows open and our mouths closed. I remember him pointing every once in a while to a road that led somewhere but mostly we just drove. He pulled into the Canton Ferry dock and we loaded up. I hadn't been on a ferry for years. Not since the last time he decided to use one. I can feel the sunshine of that afternoon excursion across the Mississippi. He talked to some of the men on board, managed to laugh at me for being a bit skittish of the whole process and we both had the greatest time. We docked in Meyer and I remember him saying as he decided which route to take that he had never been "this way" before. We were in the middle of what appeared to be nowhere. Long country roads, sprawling farm land and endless sunshine. And that breeze. I will always remember that breeze. I will always remember that it seemed to bring more than a taste of autumn into the car, it brought healing to my broken heart.

I don't know if I ever told dad how much that day meant to me. I know that four years later it's still a vivid memory when I recall that stretch of the road in my life and when I recall favorite times spent with him. I don't know if he called that day as a response to what I was going through or if he just wanted to buy me lunch. I know if I had said no and missed it...well, I'm just grateful I didn't.

Sometimes we have to push pause on this life in progress and listen to our souls. We have to make time for what really matters and what really lasts. Of all the many things staking claim to my life that day the one I chose is the one I will remember as long as I live. Knowing now what I didn't know then, it's the one thing I needed most.

Here's to choosing well...

nailed by the cross..

2008-08-31T16:14:00.004-05:00

When services ended this morning we stripped the series backdrop to prepare for the new one beginning next weekend. Already weary from a long weekend I began my mental vent over the mess in the green room that awaited me before I could leave. [My weekly ritual includes returning the left over donuts to the coffee counter in the lobby; recycling the numerous charts and tech sheets left behind; cleaning the coffee machine; emptying everyone's coffee cups and picking up trash which multiplies supernaturally over the course of three services. I then have to grab my laptop, my charts, my in-ears, purse and you get the picture.] As I'm turning off all the lights and loading up my stuff, I remember one more thing I almost forgot to do and that's when He nailed me. My head was filled with all the makings of a pity party when I sat my stuff back down in order to pick up the tray and return it to the communion room.

And then I remembered.

This is my body.

This is my blood.

Do this.

I immediately pictured Him in the green room of my heart thinking my most recent thoughts: "I just cleaned this up. Who does she think will pick up after her? Seriously, Loretta, is this necessary?" I picked up my 'towel' and committed to do this, and everything else He calls me to do, in memory of Him...

'When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. "Do you understand what I have done for you?" he asked them. "You call me 'Teacher' and 'Lord,' and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another's feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. ' -John 13:12-15

hold that post...

2008-08-29T08:59:00.004-05:00

Before I hit post on my Facebook update moments ago I decided to double check the lyrics...thankful I did.

The post:

"Loretta Nobis is watching the Pussycat Dolls on the Today Show and laughing at the boy tween singing along from the crowd to the following lyrics: "when I grow up I wanna have boobies."

Which, I might add, is worth the laugh. Also, worth the laugh is the look on my face when I discovered the lyrics were actually, "when I grow up I wanna have groupies..."

add-rite...

2008-08-22T10:50:00.002-05:00

Had a hankering for Maid-Rite last night. Strip tenderloin, mustard, pickle, onion. Obeyed hankering (to go) and Kevin and I proceeded to the Vet's home so that Mylie could enjoy the animals. (shut. up.) Cruising around the deer/turkey/something mangy, Kevin picks up the brown paper bag traditionally used by Maid-Rite for carry-outs. He mentioned something in passing that they are still writing ticket orders on the bag and adding totals the old-fashioned way without the assistance of a calculator or register. I have never double checked a total. Ever. And me and local Maid-Rite go way back. So I couldn't believe it when I discovered they were a dollar off. That's two fifty-cent pieces in Maid-Rite change folks. Of course Kevin didn't believe me and he didn't want to make the short trip from the DQ (another hankering obliged) for me to remedy the oversight. I promised to be nice but a dollar's a dollar. Besides, any establishment that posts signs for keeping all four legs of your chair on the floor and manages their up and coming staff like boot camp rookies deserves to know the truth.

The owner/manager asked me if he could help me. I showed him the bag. He re-added. He said the total was correct. (I almost apologized and turned around even though I had checked and re-checked with calculator...I mean it's the Maid-Rite for goodness' sake...) But I stood firm and asked him about the post-tax total which is where the oversight occurred. He smiled. He reached under the counter and handed me a dollar bill with a quiet apology. As I walked away I heard him ask his wife..."Did you add this?"

2008-08-20T21:55:00.004-05:00

Let's start by a simple admission of guilt. My aunt through marriage was seated next to us at a local restaurant last night. I was on a tight schedule so Kevin and I were grabbing a fast bite before I had to head back for rehearsal. I didn't want to get into a conversation. So I didn't.

Moving on.

While we were eating, Kevin cupped his right hand over the side of his mouth, pointed their direction with his left pointer finger and said:

"Don't say anything, but I think they are related to me."

I spit out my food, peed my pants and informed him at that point that they were MY relatives.

Ever have split-your-sides laughter quietly :)

We giggled about that through the rest of our dinner (what a tool) and it spawned memories of HIS great-aunt who when he was single (and dating moi) entrusted to him a precious charcoal portrait of another relative, thinking Kevin would appreciate the artistic nature of the heirloom. He did. Which is why he is haunted to this day recalling the moment he tossed his shoe into his apartment closet. Right through that little heirloom. Oh, the years he spent dreading Christmas at his parents knowing full well this aunt would be there and routinely ask him about that picture. With her passing he was finally able to let that go. I thought. Apparently, it still lies there underneath, a fear of some lost relative tracking it down. Sounds like April 1st material if you ask me....

"Don't say anything but I think they are related to me."

Crack. Me. Up.

2008-08-19T20:56:00.002-05:00

nathan: email reminder about leadership training this weekend...rsvp wanted regarding attendance and childcare.

me: two attending. one child, eight months old, potty trained.

nathan: sorry. no childcare for children with hairy butts.

me: and I thought Jesus came to see and shave the lost...

on the lighter side...

2008-08-16T00:11:00.002-05:00

Kevin revealed tonight on our way to Panera that at the end of his morning routine he discovered he had forgotten to shave. He backpedaled upstairs to remedy the oversight and headed downstairs once again to leave for work. On his way out the backdoor he realized he was sock-footed. With grinning eyes he said, " I knew I was in for a long day."

2008-08-14T17:34:00.002-05:00

My email was answered. It was grace-filled and informative. My concerns were noted. I was misinformed regarding it being the senior minister who maintains the marquee. It is a senior saint who might have been offended were they told to change the sign. It isn't as simple as changing the sign. He stated that he thought the quote might be a little over the top when he saw it the first time but suggested it wasn't all that different from the offensive nature of Luke 13:5 (repent and be saved) and that we must preach the good with the bad albeit in a "tongue and cheek" fashion. He assured me that we are all on the same side and some people will think it funny, others won't. ( visions of lost people suffering all eternity in Hell always make me chuckle...) I appreciated his response and sympathize with the tension of allowing people to serve in freedom without micro-management. I still think we have a responsibility to the eyes that drive by day after day, as well as a responsibility to keep teaching our people regardless of their age. I'd love to meet the person that makes a u-turn into their driveway convicted by this particular message. And I'd like to share the end of that 13th chapter with anyone who finds the sign funny. Jesus weeping over the city always gets me rolling...

2008-08-14T09:06:00.002-05:00

So I called on Tuesday and foolishly (egotistically) thought the sign would immediately be changed due to my enlightening effort. Nope.

I emailed last night. Mom always said to sleep on it but you know how email works. For some reason my finger zones in on send before drafts or delete. I figure people either completely ignore stuff like this all the time or maybe there's some unspoken church etiquette preventing us from speaking freely. Reminds me of something a friend once said about allowing/excusing/enabling habitually poor behavior from certain senior saints that we wouldn't tolerate from a 2nd grader. Or something to that effect. Trying to decide if I'm on a soapbox or if it's worth being this upset about. My nephew said he once saw a BILLBOARD (not in Quincy) that read "Repent And Be Saved Or Go To Hell" sponsored by a Christian church. I wonder if anyone ever called them and said anything. I'm assuming a committee of sorts had to approve that one since billboards aren't cheap...imagine that process. Wonder what else was in the running...

We'll see if I get a response. Ironically, their mission statement begins "To attract..." I included my name and phone, not a big fan of anonymous "flaps" either :) But one soapbox at a time...

arghhh....

2008-08-12T20:48:00.003-05:00

"You may think you will party in hell but you will be the barbeque."

I normally do two things when I see a stupid church sign. I laugh. I text a friend of mine and make him laugh. Today I didn't laugh. I turned around to see if I really read it correctly even though I was running late for a lunch with my sister-in-laws. Sadly that's what it said.

"You may think you will party in hell but you will be the barbeque."

I was still thinking about it after lunch and passed it again on my way back to work. The more I thought about it the madder I got. I decided to hold them accountable. I took a deep breath, shuffled through my handy basket full of fruit for gentleness and self control, dialed their number and said "tell me about your sign."

"I'm not sure what's on our sign right now."

"You may think you will party in hell but you will be the barbeque."

"Oh, I can tell you what that means. We believe that yada, yada, yada..."

He actually explained the theology behind the quote. [Where's patience...I know I had some patience in this basket...]

"I get the whole hell thing. I guess I just don't get why a church who really gets the whole hell thing would put something like that on their sign."

"Well our senior minister finds those in a book."

"I've been a Christian my whole life and signs like that embarrass me. It's hard enough to get people through the doors sometimes without churches putting crap like that out there for people to see. It's irresponsible."

"What did you say your name was?"

I spell it out for him. I tell him I'm on staff and where. I tell him I have a long history with our local Christian churches. I tell him I'd appreciate him passing my comments on to the knucklehead who picks out the clever crappage that makes it off the pages of an apparently published quote book and onto their sign. Okay, I didn't say that last part but man that makes me mad. And thankful at the same time for being part of a church that gets it.

May send him a crate of Bubba's...

the old man is snoring...

2008-07-24T08:13:00.003-05:00

It isn't looking good for our VBS inflatables family fest this evening. Thinking the indoor plans might be in motion. I suppose it could clear but looks more like it unpacked and settled in for a day, if not longer. Stinks a bit for hosting the expected 1,000+ folks tonight but if permitted a personal whine, I have Thursdays and Fridays off and a backyard pool. Even I can do that math. On the upside I have a sundry of productive options (laundry, cleaning, exercise, reading) as well as my favorite not-so-productive ones (playing with Mylie, napping with Mylie, shopping with Mylie..) to choose from. I also have a fancy smancy new Kuerig coffee maker that two friends randomly surprised me with last night. Still trying to figure that one out. (the surprise not the machine...) It's way, way cool and I'm on my third cup so far this morning. Thinking a rainy day, box full of sample pods, good book and a snuggled pup might not be a bad plan. If I go for a session on my new exercise ball before I veg in I might not even have to deal with the guilt of a day wasted.

Hoping your day is blessed. Hoping you have the smarts to know it...

2008-06-30T22:09:00.001-05:00

a. lot.

2008-06-29T23:08:00.001-05:00

i. love. my. puppy.

2008-06-26T16:01:00.003-05:00

Standing at the counter drinking my first cup of coffee this morning he says: "I don't know what it is, I just don't enjoy coffee that much anymore." He then proceeds to lift the pot, pour the remainder of our morning joe into his cup, his second cup of the morning, rethink his decision and pour it down the sink.

Ranks right up there with "I don't like ice cream." as he finishes the last Slim-a Bear.

Or, "I don't really drink that much soda anymore." except for my last Diet Pepsi in the fridge.

Or one of my personal favorites: "You want bananas?" "No." But I want bananas so I buy them anyway. Mysteriously while I lay fast asleep all but one of the bunch disappears from the bowl before breakfast.

But I love him, yes I do.

opera therapy...

2008-06-22T17:26:00.002-05:00

Not sure why I started singing really. Not that big a deal maintaining the flow between the sink and the dishwasher and the cabinets. Doesn't make me perspire. Doesn't make me strain aging muscles or summon what brains I have. It just never ends. And there are only two of us. Anyway, we got home from church and before sitting down I mustered up a smidgen of discipline (forced by the expected arrival of a few people John and Sha were bringing over to swim) and began "the routine". Clean dishes away. Dirty ones loaded. Which at last brings me to the singing. And the therapy.

I began singing in silliness something to the effect of, "how glad I am to be the only one gifted enough to load the dishwasher..." It immediately evoked an equally silly response from the husband laying on the sofa. "if you want I could swap you for the mowing of the lawn and the cleaning of the pool.." What unfolded was quite the gripe session disguised as a comic operetta. Ten minutes this went on. By the time we finished our melodic venting we were both laughing so hard we couldn't stop. The funniest response was Kevin's but I am unable to share it here. Let's just say he brought the house down :) We're both thinking seriously about writing a book. Or at least a singing seminar or two...

2008-06-19T22:27:00.003-05:00

Of course she has a stroller.

Of course it's pink.

Of course you're going to make fun of it.

Of course we can no longer be friends.

2008-06-19T22:26:00.000-05:00

gimme some of that...

2008-06-19T22:13:00.002-05:00

When Shawna was small I remember reading the tip to store away groups of toys and rotate them to avoid playtime boredom. Adopting this theory (as well as keeping Kevin in happyland) I keep Mylie's growing collection in a basket by the door. Prepping for a long Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, knowing I'd be gone a lot, I decided to throw caution to the wind Monday morning and proceeded to toss every toy she has on the living room floor for her delight. She seriously didn't know which one to grab first. Or after that. She's just the cutest thing.

2008-06-19T21:50:00.002-05:00

So I'm laying on the couch watching "Last Comic Standing" and Mylie runs to the kitchen to grab a snack. She brings it back to the living room, plops down and munches happily away. I'm not really paying that close of attention to her since I'm watching TV, but all of a sudden she jumps on the couch, runs up my legs and plops on my chest giving me the puppified equivalent of hugs and kisses. Joy like this is simply hard to come by some days. And as spontaneous as her burst of affection is the swell of tears and fear of realizing she'll up and die one day. As warped as it sounds, it's a process, this opening of a heart...

2008-06-06T08:43:00.003-05:00

Mylie loves sitting by these doors. When they are open she pesters the little dog behind our house. They bark back and forth at each other and never see one another.

2008-06-06T08:34:00.002-05:00

Mylie and her duck, that incidentally hit the skanky stage a week ago. She has a basket brimming with toys but this is her new fav. We enjoyed it as well until the quacking went a little psycho and doesn't always shut off. Need to try and wash her little webbed buddy.

2008-06-06T08:22:00.002-05:00

I suppose kids and puppies are susceptible to bias even by nominal parents but this gal's always been more of an over-the-top kind o' gal so in all things Shawna and Mylie I think I have known great favor. Look. at. that. face.

2008-06-05T10:53:00.002-05:00

So I got to work yesterday (Wednesday) and John says from his office, "Happy Anniversary!" I could tell from the look on his face, he was pretty pleased with himself for remembering. I said, "Thanks. You know it was Monday?" He was devastated and puzzled. He had put it in his iCal and guess who told him June 4th? Gotta love my Kevin. Now, how he managed to tell John the wrong date and still remember we hit #24 on Monday is beyond even the likes of me. Just thought it was funny seeing the air leave John's puffed chest.

Points for trying.

2008-06-05T10:24:00.002-05:00

So the storm sirens went off at 2:00 in the morning Tuesday. We grabbed Mylie, a flashlight, my cell phone and the kitchen TV and headed to the basement, calling Shawna on the way. By 2:45 we were all back in our beds. Tuesday night we were expecting more weather and this time I sat my purse by the basement door, placing inside my make-up bag. I slept with my hand on my cell phone. Thankfully, no alarming activity. I told my sister I thought about placing my favs in a sturdy container of some sort against the basement wall if this is going to be a recurring process. I also told her I thought about sleeping fully clothed, fully presentable. In case. I also told her it would be my luck to have a twister upon us when I'm enthroned on the toilet. So imagine the look on my face when 30 minutes ago the sirens go off and I'm. Well, there. They should inform folks like me they rescheduled the weekly Tuesday drill for Thursday this week in light of the weather on Tuesday. Not amused. Not. Amused.

you may be getting a little too carried away with all things puppy if...

2008-05-26T18:04:00.003-05:00

you've ever googled "earrings for dogs"-

you've ever smuggled yet another dog carrier into the house-

you've ever opted to have puppy time over people time-

you've ever contemplated a special trip to Hannibal with $4 gas for puppy treats-

you've ever noticed that a dog's anal canal expands when they bark-

you've ever considered being a stay-at-home for a dog-

guilty. and I cut the list short because she keeps jumping on my lap and giving me kisses...

2008-05-23T09:33:00.003-05:00

I took my niece Emma to Hannibal yesterday. Veronica was out of town with Chandler for a trip to the zoo, Harrison had a school picnic and Emma had finals. It was a rainy day, a "Nisswa" day for those who understand, and I thought she might enjoy an unplanned day on the streets of Twain. I picked her up from school at 9:30 and the three of us (couldn't leave Mylie behind!) hit 72 to Hannibal, MO. It ended up being a fun day...enough rain to quiet the pace but didn't hamper the activity. We strolled the streets and shops and Mylie and her hot-pink stroller kept us in one conversation after another most of the day.

We found some cute things for Emma's upcoming birthday (16!) and lo and behold they had two amazing pet shops along the strip that I didn't know about! Needless to say Mylie scored in the bling dept. We also purchased some dog treats for her, baked that very morning. One, the size of a generous brownie was half-devoured before we returned home. I commented to Emma that feeding her that much chicken liver (the main ingredient) might give her gas. We laughed but since I had yet to experience any Shorkie flatulation I wasn't really expecting anything.

So.

After picking up Harrison from his last day of school, grabbing a few groceries and heading home it was just about time for Veronica to pick them up. After waving goodbye and getting settled inside, I decided I had a few minutes to play with Mylie before starting supper. (John and Sha joined us for ribs and corn-on-the-cob!) Mylie was adorably wrestling with my hand as we played on the living room floor and standing there in front of me she emits this long toy-like squeak...almost like the air escaping from a small balloon and immediately turns her fuzzy little head in the direction of what I recognized as a fart. What had me laughing in spurts all evening long was the fact she thought it was a toy behind her, turns around and runs that direction in search of it!! Without a doubt, had I caught it all on video we would be rich. It was that funny. The sound was funny enough but her reaction....hilarious.

Anyhoo. It was a great day. I woke up with no plan for Hannibal or dinner with my babies but that's exactly what I got. Can't ask for more. Can't ask for more.

2008-05-06T20:53:00.004-05:00

me: I was at the clinic for three hours today.

him: how much is that gonna cost me?

me: they ruled out blood clot, heart, stroke, tumor...

him: well, for that much money they had better've found something good.

what?

2008-05-05T22:20:00.004-05:00

him: hey. (waving and nodding his head in that man-to-man fashion.)

me: who'd you wave at?

him: the neighbor.

me: where?

him: there.

me: that's a grill.

(okay, we actually argued it back and forth for a minute and we're talking maybe 30 feet away.)

him: huh. (chuckle, chuckle, chuckle...)

(then we walk the Mylie from the east side of the lawn to the west side and he says:)

him: hope she doesn't see that rabbit.

me: what rabbit.

him: down there.

me: that's a soccer ball Kevin and you're scaring me.

dinner chat...

2008-05-05T22:18:00.002-05:00

me: this dizziness isn't going away. think I may need to run into the clinic tomorrow.

him: just make sure you take the car to lubepro first. you're leaking oil.

hold the padded cell...

2008-05-02T09:35:00.003-05:00

I remarked at dinner the other night (which as a side note was nice: seems like forever since John and Shawna came over for supper...) that I had been trying to process some of my intense feelings for this puppy of mine. In honesty, probably trying to justify what might be perceived as fruitcake behavior; I am not loosing my mind. I am not loosing my mind. Still, the SIL teased that Shawna was feeling a bit discarded. Not unlike an only child negotiating laptime with a newborn sibling. I have been opting out of lunch frequently due to having Mylie with me at work, or wanting to give my WW routine a fighting chance. Either way, my attention (presence, conversations, affections...) have been missed. Aside from that observation I had been making some of my own which led to what I remarked at dinner the other night. And my conclusion of sorts:

I have absorbed an ample amount of loss over the last ten years or so. Two parents; Two parents-in-law and a cat. Then if not by literal death, certainly something processed with similar gravity; the loss of several close friends through unexpected moves as well as an entire faith community full of people I rarely see. I have lost footing, I have lost dreams. I have lost security and innocence. I have lost confidence and hope. There were of course pockets of recovery and rebound but not without cost. I have certainly tallied more than my share of blessing in that same stretch of road, and as an optimist and more importantly a believer, that's certainly where I have hung out, but man, it's been tough sometimes. Add to those the normal emotions of walking through the whole empty nest process (graduations, engagements, weddings, yada yada yada...) I have been a mess every other whenever. And then that puppy had to die. I stand and declare "I'm due!!!!" And Mylie simply hit the jackpot. It might have easily been a grandbaby I suppose, but this puppy claimed her "dot" on the timeline of my heart.

I. Adore. Her.

She has lightened my heart to a place it used to be, once upon a time, and I didn't even realize it had changed. She's apparently unlocked some hidden tower chamber in a castled heart I was unaware existed. And I'm ga-ga over the little furball. I can breathe more deeply, laugh harder and channel my maternal dotings without restraint. I even gander she's been cheaper than therapy. Shawna teased that we waited until she left to finally get the puppy she had always wanted to have, but being wired the way I am, I believe she's the exact dog I needed at just the right time...

Now I need to get ready and meet my number one baby to run some errands. But I'm bringing baby number two :)

thank you, matthew...

2008-04-25T17:08:00.008-05:00

"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye

and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?"

-Matthew 7:3 NIV

When we remodeled Shawna's bedroom after she married, one of her closets became Kevin's allowing me sole custody of our modest walk-in. Kevin has little patience for tedious organization so I gladly transfered his clothes from our room to hers. The fresh paint and carpet merited thoughtful arrangement of his clothing, each categorized comfortably in their spacious new digs. In the 1404 laundry cycle, I take the clothes from hamper to washer/dryer to closet. He takes them from closet, to body, to hamper. Usually. Perhaps in fear I'll interrupt the laundry cycle and allow his favorites to hibernate in the hamper, perhaps just because he can, he will often omit the hamper step completely and instead stock pile the clothes on the shelf where his neatly rolled socks await their destiny. I can't stand it. Just can't stand it. I slide the door open to put his socks away and there they are. Assorted shirts, pants and socks, saved like gum on the bedpost overnight. And now my point.

You should see my closet.

I have purses all over the floor, too lazy to put my summer assortment away and swap them out for the winter ones, so there's a mix of both collecting dust; the chest of drawers that is more than willing to store my jewelry in complete organization is a total mess, while my collection of bling is spread out across my dresser in the bedroom. My clothes: well, suffice it to say I probably waste 15 minutes each morning searching for a specific item that's probably laying in a small, but inexcusable pile by my bedside.

And it hit me the other day, this is how I am. I have advice (Matt would probably describe as judgment) for everyone else on the planet, whether I know you by name or not. I can lose your unwanted weight, manage your finances and raise your children. I am armed with more know-how than a blonde's ever been credited with having and yet I whine about my pot belly and walk out of Wal-Mart with crap I'll never need. Thankfully my daughter was predisposed to turn out well so she makes me look like mother of the year, but I'm just a common plank-er truth be known. And Matthew, well, take it easy. Fat bruises...

2008-04-25T12:06:00.000-05:00

Just to give you an idea how small she is :) And no, Kevin couldn't catch her...

2008-04-25T12:04:00.001-05:00

Their cup routine..."Lord of the Cups"

2008-04-25T11:58:00.000-05:00

Chandler in the Baldwin Talent Show...

pokey...

2008-04-25T11:51:00.003-05:00

John: You ready? Shawna's on her way there...

Me: In a sec. I'm feeding your puppy.

John: You know, you might be taking this a little too seriously. It isn't real...

2008-04-25T10:58:00.007-05:00

Talent Shows: 12

Concerts: 35

Recitals: 12

Contests: 6

Dances: 10

Softball Games: 100

Volleyball Games: 100's

CIY's: 5

Bookbags: 12

These are all estimates of course, but my head's a blur with the amount of life we have lived since we watched Shawna's 5th grade Baldwin talent show. My sister is a mere two years behind me in the time line of our lives, but her middle child Chandler just stood on the same stage yesterday as I watched his 5th grade Baldwin talent show. That's a chunk to wrap a mind around let me tell you. Makes me...well it makes me tired, honestly. That doesn't begin to measure the other milestones an 11 year old has ahead of them. For Shawna at that age meant checking off braces, boobs, and periods. There were standardized tests, pimples and parties as well as an intense church calendar to keep up with. Much of it over and done with before we even met Chandler. Twelve years have checked themselves off since we wedged ourselves into those front row seats to hear her sing. Wow. And I haven't even begun to think of all we have experienced post-school; her wedding for one thing. We've switched churches, made tons of new friends, walked where Jesus walked and watched her say I do to her lifelong crush. We've lost loved ones, closed and opened doors and colored our hair a dozen times over. That's a lot of life. And to think that not only Chandler, but Emma and Harrison have the bulk of that to come not only blows my mind but shouts a warning to hang on. This ride is far from over...

more bark than bite...

2008-04-24T22:35:00.005-05:00

So Mighty Mylie just started barking her little head off in the direction of our light less foyer. She was barking fairly intensely for such a little squirt and with enough passion for me to call out and see if Kevin was trying to scare her. She persisted, but with each rousing yelp began negotiating her way, rump first, to where I was seated at the kitchen table. Apparently she has some chicken in her bloodline as well as Shih Tzu and Terrier...pansy. Had flashbacks of my little sister watching "The Wizard of Oz" on our living room floor. By the time the monkeys hit the skies she had backed completely up into dad's enveloping lap...

signs of the saved...

2008-04-24T22:27:00.001-05:00

"Be an organ donor. Give your heart to Jesus."

Come. On. People.

more mylie...

2008-04-23T09:34:00.002-05:00

We felt safe enough vaccination-wise to let Mylie outside recently. Her first experience with grass was priceless. She still hops around akin to a young bunny on the loose, but she's just hilarious. And fast. Really, really fast. Not a problem until we're ready to head inside. The neighbors have to think we're complete idiots. If they didn't already...

2008-04-10T22:57:00.002-05:00

I hear myself mid-story and simultaneously realize I'm probably boring the snot out of anyone who happens to find themselves captive to one of my puppy tales. She is just the cutest thing. Without apology she is tale-worthy. She has blessed my soul from the moment I found her online. Strangely in the last couple days I have fallen even farther over the little squirt. She looks like an glorified alley mutt, nothing especially "designer" about her save the breeder's asking price, but I figure if half the ladies my age are injecting their salaries into their sagging bits, she's worth every penny for the lift in my face when she sees me walk in the door. Without exception there is no one on the planet that is that happy to see me. Ever. I have never wanted for love, but this Mylie of mine has managed to tap into a source of emotions in me that make me feel amazing. Just amazing. Silly little dog.

misery loves company...

2008-04-03T21:11:00.001-05:00

Brian Lowery hits the big "30" on Friday :)

my morning surprise...

2008-04-03T21:06:00.001-05:00

"it's time to switch to those candles shaped like numbers." love, Kev...

2008-03-29T14:19:00.002-05:00

So I'm wondering: my new favorite pastime just might be having an adverse affect on my weight control...

2008-03-29T14:16:00.002-05:00

She looks bigger in this pic than she is. All of 3.10 lbs. Eventually, she's probably going to lose the black hair :( and end up a lovely golden color...

all the world's a-travelin'...

2008-03-29T13:33:00.004-05:00

except me that is.

John and Shawna are in Louisville with a group from MPCC to see the Easter pageant at SECC. (and visit Sara and Max of course!)

Veronica and David drove to Pennsylvania yesterday for a work-related weekend of inventory for OTR. They are bicycling through Washington, DC today, without a doubt recalling their child-free years many moons ago. Anyone up for the math, Kev and I have three kids until Monday night. So far, so good.

And then of course Pam and Yvonne left for Greece on Thursday with a busload of Crossing folks. Once again the math: Kevin and I opted out. Hard at first but it was a lot of money (worth it I told him...) but it would have postponed my surgery as well as the puppy so I'm happy with his decision if not still a little envious of those who went for it.

On top of that, Jennie landed in Sweden, Erin's back in Costa Rica, and Gil's out there somewhere cruising all his favorite eateries and calling it ministry. Lol. So maybe I'm more than a little envious after all. We are entertaining an afternoon trip to Hannibal tomorrow for 50 miles of art. It's nothing postcard worthy but it's something. And did I mention I have a puppy?

what a wittle wookiee...

2008-03-27T09:00:00.005-05:00

It's hard to believe we've had Mylie for nearly three weeks already but we have. She isn't all that much bigger but her hair is much fuller and her face continues to change. She's a cross between Benji and Chewbacca. Cute.

The breeder had told me over the phone that she was a little hoarder. I would imagine being a small female pup among several larger males she learned to grab and go if she was going to claim her share. The night we got her home Kevin and I assumed the postures we have since subjected our bodies to on the kitchen floor and immediately witnessed this hoarding of hers. I completely ignored the cautions to overstimulate and tossed every toy I've nested away in the last few months at her furry feet. One by one she carried them to her bed. (Adorably soft- pale yellow stripes. A Target find next to the box of "iced" puppy cookies in Easter shapes that also found their way into my red plastic shopping cart...) Anyway, this went on for some time, toy after toy. She even managed to drag a stuffed dog that's bigger than she is across the floor several times. And then all of a sudden she started bringing the toys to me, curling up and settling herself snuggly in the pocket between my face and arms as I laid on my stomach on the floor. Score. Since then she has also found "secondary" refuge in Kevin's arms but she trusted her hoard with me first. Only when an infant Shawna reached her arms up for me to pick her up have I felt a similar rush of joy. (or even now, when she makes me her transit phone call...) But every time Mylie trots across the floor and retrieves her little treasures, rushes toward me tail a-wagging and plops, curls and kisses me all in one fell swoop; Dancing. Much dancing in this heart of mine. So much joy. And last night being a "Wonderful Wednesday", I was late getting home with rehearsal all night and as soon as I hit the door I hear Kevin laughing and see Kevin struggling to hold onto the little furball from the sofa in the living room. Where does it come from? This mutual adoration we have going on. And how does something smaller than my purse contain such intense excitement? I gotta say I'll take it all. Mercy this little walking carpet has done a number on me...

gotta stop watching t.v. in the morning...

2008-03-27T08:34:00.003-05:00

Ap"pear"ently, my larger lower half is supposed to decrease the odds of developing dementia in my 70's. Who knew I'd ever be thankful for thighs. The bad news is my "menopot" that's recently growing around my middle is equally increasing my odds of the same thing. For all my

friends over 40, (from Venus or Mars...) check your waist to hip ratio (no matter how thin you are...) or we'll all end up in the nut house. If they had said "in my 90's" I might have considered it as a nice exit prank on John and Shawna...

this just in...

2008-03-26T10:41:00.001-05:00

Thin, petite caucasian/asian women are more apt to develop osteoporosis later in life. Glory be to the Father, to the Son and to the Holy Ghost. Chalk one up for all us big boned gals...

2008-03-26T08:52:00.000-05:00

There's seldom a day that passes that God doesn't amaze me by at least one of the immeasurable things He has thought of. This particular morning I thought of something that might have made that list had involuntary memory loss ever been a struggle for the Almighty. Were my mind more user friendly, it might offer a drop-down window for referencing recent thoughts that vanish before I finish with them. Imagine the handiness of a mental history window: "re-open windows from last session;" "add bookmark;" "earlier today or yesterday;" or even this little gem that could replace the Tylenol PM: "clear history." It would save a tree or two from all the post-it notes I use, it would eliminate the endless trips into a room for naught when I can't for the life of all good things remember what I went there for, and it would alleviate the nightly pleas with the mind to stop long enough to fall asleep and stay asleep. Still, I trust He fashioned us just the way we need to be so I'll content myself knowing my vast collection of seasonal post-its makes the process at least cheerful and trendy. As long as I remember where I keep them...

what the...

2008-03-18T17:50:00.000-05:00

chillin' with the homies...

2008-03-18T17:47:00.002-05:00

mylie...12 weeks old...3.1 lbs...

2008-03-18T17:30:00.006-05:00

Go ahead and say it. She's all that and more...

2008-03-17T08:47:00.002-05:00

him: I'm going to be tasting those tacos all night...

me: you want some Pepcid?

him: no. I like it.

me:

2008-03-13T07:26:00.002-05:00

him: so do you think John could watch her while you run to the store? you could just take her next door to his office when you leave.

me: remember I'm not going to work today? remember I just told you I have Meals on Wheels at noon?

him: oh. sorry. that's right...I forgot. (I told him last night and again, not 20 minutes ago...)

me: you're taking my car so I can have the van, right? (also, not 20 minutes ago...)

him: yes. (feigning recall with betraying smile...) you have to understand, I'm not wired like you. I'm doing good to get my pants on in the morning. (heading out the door and glancing down...) I do have my pants on don't I?

and yes. we have our puppy :)

2008-03-07T15:04:00.003-06:00

So my sister and I were contemplating a round trip to Tulsa today. (Actually, I was doing the contemplating she was filling her gas tank!) My breeder said she'd bring Mylie today and due to the possibility of winter storms passing through decided to delay the trip. After calling her this morning and being reassured she was only postponing until tomorrow and not next week, I made the decision to wait it out. Again. In the meantime, two friends who weren't even in the market for dogs a month ago both have puppies at their homes and I'm still sitting here waiting. Though not completely immune to the irony of it all I am thrilled with their recent additions. One's even named after me :)

A loyal cat owner for nearly a quarter century as well as being the proud grandmother of Shawna's beautiful yearling Ada, I would still have to admit to having a particular fondness for puppies. We had two Irish setters and a mutt growing up, as well as a pony, tanks of fish, multiple birds, guinea pigs and rabbits, all smack dab in the middle of town---so I love all my animal friends, but there is just something about a dog. So I'm more than ready to get my hands on my little 3 lb. fur ball. I did call when she was getting her breakfast this morning and got to hear her bark over the phone. Crazy stupid is what I am.

Anticipating her arrival around 7:00 tomorrow evening. I'll be sure and let you know how that plays out...

2008-02-28T20:32:00.001-06:00

Mylie or Miley?

2008-02-28T13:16:00.002-06:00

If all goes as planned, we should have our little Mylie next Friday. She's 10 weeks old. I know. I know. She's cute. Really cute. If you're lucky, I'll let you hold her the next time you're in the neighborhood. Brush up on your baby talk before you come :)

would you like lemon with that...

2008-02-27T10:01:00.003-06:00

So they say now that lemons served with your water/tea can carry all kinds of goodies including fecal matter. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

me too...

2008-02-27T09:51:00.002-06:00

Is it just me, or does the Contour Adjustable Bed Giveaway commercial make you want to throw something at the TV?