I yam what I yam

So, it's the end of 2o09....as I reflect back on my year, I see growth (I'm not talking about my waistline here...but it grew too)....but it's a very different kind of growth than my previous years.

I have spent my life trying to be like other people....trying to become more like ___ (fill in the blank). This past year something different has happened....I'm not trying to be anyone but me. I am now comfortable with who I am....but I want to continue to grow to be a better ME.

I think that comes with age....but I am so thankful for this time in my life....when I don't have to strive to be anyone but who I was created to be.

Behind the walls

So, the other night I watched a show on the Hapsburg Empire of Vienna. The Hapsburg family ruled Vienna for over 600 years.

They believed that God created two types of people, those who were born to rule, which just happened to be the Hapsburg family (good news for them)....and those whom God created to be ruled and to serve, which just happened to be everyone else.

The Hapsburg's had two very large palaces, their summer and their winter homes. These palaces were extravagant....with silver and gold table settings, and the best jewels of the continent.

The walls of these palaces were built wide enough to hide the servants' corridors. The staff would literally walk between the walls....traveling from room to room to serve.

The fireplaces within the palaces were not your typical fireplaces. Instead they were large ornate ceramic decorations within each room. The fireplaces did not open into the rooms, instead the ceramic conducted the heat from the fire that was built by the servants behind the wall out into the room, allowing the fireplaces to be large pieces of art within each room. The servants spent their time walking between the walls, building fires.

Sometimes as a woman, I feel like some of the world believes that I was created to be ruled and to serve.....and sometimes as a woman, I feel like I live and work between the walls....totally unseen and yet always there....serving...building fires.

Houston, we have a problem

So, here is sentence that no mother wants to have her 18 year old daughter, who is away at college, start a phone conversation....."Mom, we have a problem." My Katie calls me last night from college....it's finals week there and I knew she had a big one in Chemistry, her major, yesterday. I say, "Hey kiddo." And she replies with that spine tingling statement, "Mom, we have a problem," and her voice is a little shaky.

My heart stops....several scenarios run through my mind, she's flunked her Chemistry final, or she's flunking out of college altogether, or she's pregnant, or......fill in any extreme blank.

I am not breathing....but I manage to stammer out, "Okay, what is it?" I am bracing myself...trying to come up with calm and loving responses to any of the scenarios playing through my mind.

"Mom, I look like Elvira. I tried to color my hair dark brown and it came out jet black."

Well, this is one scenario that I did not take into consideration, and therefore, I didn't have a kind and loving response ready for it....so I begin to laugh....I mean really laugh and I say, "Well, mistress of the night, it's going to be a fun Christmas with you and the grandparents."

It's time to flush

So, one of my co-workers got a Betta fish a few weeks ago. She put in it a small vase with a few rocks in the bottom. Every day, this fish sat there in the vase, same position, hardly moving....same thing day in and day out. Then my co-worker went away for a couple of days and asked us to keep an eye on him. The next day....there he was at the top of the vase. We all thought it was time to flush him....we approached the vase and he moved. Then it was back to the same old position, hardly moving.....

My co-worker came back to work with a big aquarium, and plants to put in it, and toys and rocks....she filled it up with water and put the fish in it. I wish you could see him now....he is always swimming about, his little fins always fluttering.....you just never know where he will be. I would swear he is smiling at us.

Anyhow....it got me thinking.....have I let my "environment" become a little vase with a couple rocks on the bottom? You know, nothing new...very small.....nothing to explore....nothing to learn.....just sitting there in the same position day in and day out. I honestly think the fish was suicidal in that vase....I think he was faking his death and hoping someone would flush him.....at least it would be a change of scenery.

So, do I just need to get flushed?

The year of the goat

So, here I am at the end of my year of joy....no, this year is not listed on the place mats at the cheap, all-you-can-eat, Chinese buffet.

There were many things that I have learned this year.

First I realized how much I hate the word 'journey.' I just wanted to arrive at joy....you know, someone telling me how to get there...."take a left past the BP station and it is there on the left." But I found that I could not just hurry up and drive to arrive...

Side note....last night my 16 year old daughter, Becky, was learning to drive in the dark down the curviest, narrowest road around, Short Shun. It was just a little before 6 pm and we were coming from Nicholasville to Wilmore. We had just started down Short Shun and suddenly there was a car hard on our tail. I mean that it was so close that I could not see the headlights on it. Becky says, "Wow. This car is following me closely." The car begins to flash its headlights at us. Becky asks, "Can I slow down please?" I say, "Sure." The speed limit is 35 mph. She had been doing 30 mph, now she slows down to 25 mph. I smile. The obnoxious car begins to beep at us. Becky slows down to 20 mph. The car then begins to flash lights, beep and ride a little closer on our tail. This person finally passes us illegally and flies up the road. It turns out they were heading to church.

So, back to my journey to joy....that was the visual of me at the beginning of the year. Driving like a crazy person.....flashing my headlights and beeping my horn.....in a hurry to arrive at joy. I was like that driver, I did not realize that my journey is part of the whole process. See, when that a-hole pulled into the church...he totally lost his credibility as a "christian" because of how he journeyed to his destination.

I thought 'joy' was my destination.....where I wanted to arrive at, what I was striving for. That it was the end of all....but I now realize that it is not my destination....no! All throughout the year, I kept asking, "Are we there yet?" But there is no "there" to get to. It is a process....a journey! But not a journey TO joy....it was my journey OF joy.

Now, what will the year of 2010 be? The year of the goat?

LOL smiley face

So, my children and I went to West Virginia this past weekend. We met my cousin's pregnant girlfriend....

He said, "This is my girlfriend....her name is Chastity."

My children and I laughed out loud.....he didn't understand why.....subtle irony.

A perfect match

So, yesterday as I was sitting in the eye doctor's waiting room, I partook of my favorite pastime......people watching.

I saw 3 different pairs of people that were dressed alike.

First pair was a set of twin girls. They were about 3 years old....cute as they could be....curly hair pulled back with matching ribbons, matching sweaters, matching pants, matching shoes and even matching glasses. Their parents wanted them identified as twins....matching in every way.

Second pair was an older couple. They were distinguished looking, probably in the early 70's. They did not match every detail exactly....but they had the same color scheme going. You could tell they belonged together.....and had "belonged" together for many years now.

Third pair was a mother and her son. She was in her late 30's and her son was probably 8. He was in a wheelchair that she pushed around. He was severely handicapped. He could not speak understandable words nor could he walk. He was so cute....blond hair and smiling. They did not match in every detail....but they too had the same color scheme going on. You could tell that the mom wanted her son to be identified with her. He was her responsibility, but he was more than that.....he was her son. In a world that probably tends not to welcome him as "belonging" to many things.....he BELONGS to her......he was her beloved.

It's funny how we wear similar clothing......we are doing something very intentional when we do that.....it kind of reminds me of Genesis 1:26-27, "Let us make man in our own image, in our likeness.....so God create man in his own image, in the image of God he created him, man and woman he created them."

I think that was God dressing us like him.....identifying us with him....showing us we are his beloved......we belong with him.

Can lead to blindness

So, last week I called my eye doctor for an appointment. I felt like I was going blind....my eye sight had suddenly declined drastically. I was nervous.

So today was the appointment. I tell the doctor that it seemed like I woke up one morning and could no longer see clearly.

He puts me through a battery of tests....measuring my eyes....reading this....measure some more....read this....which is clearer, 1 or 2.....3 or 4.....etc. After he has run every test imaginable, he sits back and says, "Mrs. Hogan, is there any chance that you could have switched your contacts, left contact in right eye and right contact in left eye?"

Hmmmm........an evening comes to mind....right around the same time that my blindness started.

"Yes doctor, that is a possibility," I confess.

I take my contacts out and switch eyes......I begin to sing...."I can see clearly now...."

Note to self....always take your contacts out and put your glasses on before festivities begin.

My person

So, last night I watched a friend's (she's a single mom) son, Isaiah, while she had a local trip for work. She was supposed to be home around 9 pm. It was not a big deal because he is close in age to my son. The boys played and giggled and watched Sport Bloopers on the computer.

At around 7 pm my friend called, she did not realize how far this trip was, and she did not realize that it was in central time zone, which meant that she was thinking it would be closer to 11 pm before she could pick up her son. I tell her it really is not a big deal and he can just spend the night with us. She does not want to impose, so she asks me to just let him sleep on the couch until she arrives. Okay.

At around 9 pm she calls again. It is going much slower than she realized, and she was wondering if he could just spend the night. I tell her that we would love to have him spend the night...not a problem. She apologize profusely....I assure her that it is fine.

I really considered it a privilege. Seriously...I have a very, very, very dear friend that is also a single mom, Tammy. She has been "my person" as I have navigated along this whole single-mom road. I have called her a million times when I have been stuck in a meeting, or stuck in traffic, or stuck at work and my kids were sitting alone at the school waiting for me to pick them up. She has been "my person." The person that I would call at 3 am if there was an emergency. She has been "my person." She has done for me exactly what Michele was asking me to do....and she has done it without putting guilt on me. I can, and have, called her anytime, in any situation, and ask her to help me with my kids....and she would be there, and has been there.....every time. I never have to feel guilty....she is "my person," no questions asked.

That has meant the world to me....to have someone who is there for me.....and I want to pay it forward.....I want to be there for other single moms, especially. This is such a hard road to travel....and you feel so alone....and so inadequate.....and Tammy has been "my person."

This ones for you Tammy!

Balls.....lots of balls

So, tonight my son David has a friend, Isaiah, spending the evening with us. He and his friend went out and played basketball...then he and his friend played football....then they played kickball...it started to get dark outside so they came indoors.

They got on the computer and sat on the couch giggling....and giggling....and giggling. I decide that I better check to see what they are watching. So I say, "David, turn the computer around...I want to see what you are giggling at." David turns the computer around and he and his friend are watching sports bloopers.....you know.....men getting hit in their balls by all kinds of balls...basketballs....footballs....kickballs....and every other ball imaginable....balls on balls....hilarious.

Anyhow, it dawns on me that men are SO, SO different than women. A woman would NEVER....NEVER......NEVER sit around for hours watching other women get hit in their boobs. NEVER. So...what the heck is it that drives men to be so fascinated with balls.....

Big love

So, this past week I lost a very dear member of my family. Cheyenne passed away.

Chey-Chey was my sister's dog. Chey did not start life with our family, but she found us! She was my sister's neighbor's dog. When Judy moved into Chey's neighborhood, Chey immediately knew she had found her kinfolk. Chey began coming for visits....and Judy would give her some love (which always included a treat). Chey then had a litter of puppies...and she would still come over for her daily visit, which now included bringing her puppies. Judy's love was big enough to include them as well.

Chey's puppies were sold off....and Chey still came. She started to stay longer...not really wanting to go home. Her owner always knew where to come to find Chey....finally, as it got harder and harder for him to convince Cheyenne to come home with him....he decided to give Chey to my sister. I am postive that was the happiest day of Cheyenne's life!

She really was a kindred spirit....she loved people....she loved food.....she loved life. She was the sweetest girl, and fit into our family perfectly. She had the gentlest spirit. My kids would sometimes accidentally step on her....Chey never growled. Then I got my little furball....he was a little yipping thing...but Chey never nipped at him...she loved everyone...her love, like my sister's love, was big enough to include all.

Chey....we will all miss you!

Starry night

So, this past weekend I went camping. I mean out in nature...peeing in the woods (because I'm too lazy to walk up to the bath house)...cool nights....

It was a great weekend for camping. The temperatures during the daylight was in the upper 60's...but at night it dipped down into the low 40's....chilly.

On Friday night, after we got the tent set up, air mattress inflated, and sleeping bags unrolled...we built a fire and turned on the radio...Christmas music was playing....I love Christmas music. So I sat there....fire blazing....the sky was crystal clear.....and there were a million stars in the sky...so I sat there looking at the stars and listening to the Christmas music..........."Oh holy night, the stars are brightly shining. It is the night of our dear Savior's birth."

Deep breath...................................ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..............I can breath again.

Shhhhh....in the library?

So, last night, I'm standing in the library at work and my son was standing next to me. A friend walks up and we begin to joke around. She looks at David and says, "How do you live with her?"

David innocently responds, "Well......we have separate bedrooms."

Amanda begins to laugh and says, "If that ever changes, you call me babe."

I have to admit, I'm rather speechless and wondering what David meant....

David then says, "Yeah....it helps to have separate bedrooms because mom screams very loudly and often in the night."

Okay......seriously.....I'm single.....





















and I have nightmares. What did you think I meant?

Improved sight

So, today is my dad's 77th birthday.

I thought I'd tell you a little about my dad.

He is a strong man...a manly man. He is a hunter and a fisherman. He can play any sport...and play it well. I'm still trying to beat my dad in ONE round of golf.

He was a faithful GM employee for over 40 years. He provided for his family.

He would give you the shirt off his back....and has more times than anyone knows.

He never verbally said he loved me...but his actions show it daily and always have.

He is a very funny man. His eyes sparkle when he is up to no-good.

He is very handsome. He has curly hair that tends to look like he's sprouting devil's horns when he's being ornery.

As he grows older...he has grown softer....or maybe, as I have grown older, I have grown to see his softer side.

I love you dad!

What mile marker

So, for those of you who are wondering where I am on my journey to joy.....

Well, I am still on the journey (I still hate that word). It is a very long journey....a very long, long journey.

The current mile marker says, "I am a child of God."

Dog gone it

So, this has been an interesting "dog" weekend.

First, last night I get a call from my son...they had just picked up our dog from the family who was watching Graham for us. David said, "Ummmm....mom, there's a problem with Graham." My heart stops....I am picturing him run over in the street....I say, "What's wrong with Graham?" David says, "Well...ummmm......he has worms." My heart begins to beat again...."He has worms?" David replies, "Yes, what does that mean? What will happen to him?" I chuckle and say, "I'll get him some medicine." Which is what I do...

So, this morning I get a call from my friend (I'll change her name to protect her identity), Bandace Krooks, in Florida....she tells me the story of running over a dog last night as she was driving home. She ran the dog over right in front of the owner. Then she tells me that when she got home, she took her 2 dogs out for a walk in the park. One of her dog finds a condom on the ground while they are walking through the park...and she eats it. Yes, her dog ate the condom. Well...Bandace Krooks calls her vet to see what to do and the vet says to watch the dog to make sure she passes the condom.

So, Bandace Krooks and I are comisserating about our dog problems....her watching her dog's poop for a condom....and me watching my dog's poop for worms. We are discussing how Graham could have got worms...she says, "He can get them if he eats another dog's poop." I tell her that my yard is the neighborhood toilet for ALL dogs, and that no one in my neighborhood carries a "poop bag" to pick up their dog's pile.

Then Bandace has a BRILLIANT idea....feed all the dogs in my neighborhood condoms and then when they poop in my yard...their poop will be encased in a condom...poop in a bag. Then the owner can just pick up the condom of poop and go on home.

Would you like a peach with that?

So, I was talking to my sister today to get the latest "Hannah-story." She has the funniest granddaughter in the world...seriously, the girl is hysterical.

Okay...so funny Hannah story. Judy calls Hannah and they are discussing Halloween. Judy is trying to convince Hannah to give her all of the candy that Hannah doesn't like from when she goes out Trick or Treating. After they get done with that discussion, Hannah says, "Nini, do you want to buy some cookies from me?"

Judy, aka Nini, says, "Sure. What kind do you have?"

Hannah says, "Peanut butter and chocolate chip."

Nini says, "I will take one of each."

Hannah announces to her mom, "Nini wants PEACH."

Nini says, "No, Hannah....I want ONE OF EACH."

Hannah says, "Nini wants peach."

Judy can hear Hannah's mom in the background saying, "We don't have peach."

Judy says, "Hannah, just give me one peanut butter and one chocolate chip."

Hannah tells her mom, "Okay, now Nini wants a peanut butter and a chocolate chip. She doesn't want peach anymore."

That's why McDonald's doesn't have a 4 year old running the drive-thru.

Beware of frolicking

So, today I got a phone call from a male co-worker. He was out deer hunting. He called to let me know he had just killed a deer.

I asked, "So, did you get a big buck?"

He responded, "No, it was just a doe. As a matter of fact, I'm a little embarrassed to tell you what happened."

"Come on...what happened?" I asked.

He began the story, "Well, I was up in my tree stand and two small doe came along and began to play under me. Then a big buck, I mean a monster, came down over the hill to be with the doe. Well, I put my cross hair on him and pulled the trigger. Problem was, I hadn't taken the safety off. By the time I did that, the buck heard me and took off."

"Oh, that stinks," I pipe in.

"Well," he said, "I was so mad, I put the cross hair on the doe and killed her."

There you have it....a glimpse into my world. How many times have I just been frolicking in a field....minding my own business....when suddenly a big male ego enters my field and next thing I know.....I get shot in the butt!

A formula to perfection

So, today I went to chapel. A couple from Thailand led us in a traditional Thai worship service.

It was a beautiful service. The music and songs and dance were all beautiful. As they played their music and taught us how to dance and sing before the Lord....I realized how very stiff and starched we are here in North America. We looked nothing like them....they flowed with grace and beauty, much like watching a butterfly float through the air....and then there was us...

We clunked along...moving our hands and bodies as if they weighed 100 lbs and our joints did not move in a fluid motion. We looked more like a robot.

They allow their bodies to feel the music...becoming one with the music...an extension of it, flowing out of it. We on the other hand are trying to listen to the music and calculate moves to the music.

I have children and I have watched every episode of SpongeBob Squarepants that has ever been created. There is one episode that sums up what I saw today....this is what SpongeBob usually looks like:

He has bumps and holes, not at all perfect...

But one day he decides he is too different, and he decides to become normal....and so, instead of being his different self, he works to be "normal.' Soon, his appearance begins to change to match his actions....bland and boring. Here is what his appearance changes to:

He is smooth and perfect...

I feel like we in North America have worked very hard to become "normal" in our worship....not wanting to be different or allow ourselves to "feel" anything. No, we have a calculation and a formula for "perfect, normal" worship. And so....we trudge along and soon...our worship begins to look like "normal SpongeBob."

Smell that smell

So, one of my co-workers got a brand new car. I mean a brand new...made yesterday....pulled out of the factory right into the dealership and then picked up by my co-worker, new car.

It is bright and shiny and beautiful....it has that wonderful aroma that can not be duplicated or bottled....the NEW CAR SMELL. It is an amazing smell...I love that smell. I love to look at brand new cars....dreaming of calling it my own....dreaming of opening the door and being greeted by that smell.

So, I was looking at this new car and wishing I could open the door. Suddenly I realized how privileged I am. Why? Because I begin to think about the people of the world who are starving today. I am dreaming of smelling a new car...and there are people in the world who are dreaming of smelling food, a smell of nourishment and sustenance...

They are not worried about how a shiny new car might smell....the smell of privilege....they pray to smell food....the smell of life.

Put away the Nair

So, today I heard the MOST interesting thing. A study performed by the American Mustache Institute (yes....there really is an institute for the American mustache) revealed that mustachioed men make more than their bearded and clean-shaven compatriots.

As a matter of fact....mustached men don't just make a hair more than co-workers, but 8.2 percent more than men sporting beards and 4.3 percent more than clean-shaven men.

Yes, you read that right...a mustache can get you a possible 8.2 percent raise.....

Well....let me just say this...on behalf of the Italian women in the workforce.....I guess it's time to put away the Nair and let my mustache move me up the corporate ladder!

Then we shall see face to face...

So, I am contemplating birthdays. I happen to be, not only a person who has a birthday, but a mom who has three children that have birthdays. Here is what I have come to know after 46 years of having personal birthdays....

Well, I can not tell you one dang thing about the day that I was born. I don't know what color the eyes of the doctor that delivered me was. I can not tell you how many nurses were in the room or what color scrubs that they were wearing. I can not tell you what day of the week it was when I entered this world, or what the weather was like, or even what time that I entered this world. I don't know what my mom or dad looked like at that moment, or how they reacted.

But I have had the extreme privilege of being present for three glorious "birth days," one for Katie, one for Becky and one for David. I can tell you exactly what each doctor's name was that delivered my children. I also happen to know what color those doctor's eyes were. I know how many nurses were in each delivery room and what color scrubs that they were wearing. I can tell you exactly what day of the week it was, and even the exact minute that I finally got to lay eyes on each one of my babies. It was a moment that I will never forget...

So, as a person who has lived through 46 personal "birthdays" and as a mom who has lived through 3 actual "birth days," I wonder....why don't we celebrate birthdays with the mom's on the actual birth day of their children...why don't we give gifts to the moms....the one person who can tell you every detail of that moment when they visualized the pure love that had been growing in them for 9 months.

Where my intuition leads me....

So, I happen to work in a religious institution....

Here is something that I have noticed...woman's rights do not seem to be predominant here. As a matter of fact, I would almost bet that my salary, as a woman director, is considerably less than my male counterpart.

I have also noticed that I am asked by the paramount male leadership (I think that might be redundant) to provide my "woman's intuition." Can I just tell you how offensive that is to me???

The definition of "intuition" is "the power or faculty of attaining to direct knowledge without evident rational thought and inference." WHAT THE HECK???

The antonym for "intuition" is "knowledge," "reason," or "reasoning."

Seriously?

This is what the male leadership thinks that I have to offer....only intuition. I can not have any cognitive thought.

Okay...I "feel" like I might have a solution...I am going to go and buy myself a set of bumper nuts. You have surely seen these things hanging off the back of a redneck pickup truck. Well, I figure that if I buy a pair of those and hang them from my belt on my slacks...then maybe, oh maybe, I will be able to have a cognitive thought, as I feel that this must be where men do their cognitive thinking.....and then I can maybe get some respect around here.

And....I'm going to make my set brass!

Bang Bang Club

So, today I spent the afternoon with my son. He had a soccer game in Louisville.

We had a beautiful ride over together. It was a beautiful autumn day...sun was shining, air was brisk, and the leaves were beginning to turn. I watched him play an excellent game. Then he and I went to the Cheesecake Factory....our favorite place to eat. He got what he always orders...the Club. He always lets me have a bite of his Club and I always tell him that it is so good, that the next time we go....I will order the Club. I say this EVERY time we go. So, today, he looks at me and says, "Okay mom, are you going to get the Club?" I say, "Yes, today is the day."

The waiter comes to the table and takes our order, two Clubs. The minute he walks away from the table, I begin to dream of Bang Bang Chicken....what I always order. I tell David, "I'm wondering if I should have ordered Bang Bang." David begins to laugh and says, "Mom, you finally ordered the Club. Don't think about the Bang Bang."

At this moment, our waiter walks past the table and I grab him and say, "Is it too late to change my order to Bang Bang Chicken and Shrimp?" He says, "I'll try."

David looks at me and begins to laugh...."I thought you were going to order the Club this time...but no...you had to get Bang Bang."

I explain to David that I actually HAD ordered the Club, so I had followed through on that....I just happen to be GETTING the Bang Bang.....oh well....maybe someday.

The "talk"

So, I am shocked to find out through a co-worker that the seventh grade health class is beginning the "sex" education curriculum....my son is in seventh grade and I haven't heard anything about this.

I ask him, "David, so are you learning about sex at school?"

He responds, "No, they are teaching that in health class and I don't have health this year."

I say, "Good....I don't want you learning about sex."

He says, "Mom....I can't go through life not knowing about sex."

Oh....a mom can hope!

Put me in coach...I'm ready to play

So, today I found myself in a very familiar situation....and yet at the time it didn't dawn on me that I had been here before.

Let me digress, I was in sixth grade....a very shy young girl. I had a few friends at school, but for the most part I watched life happen around me, a spectator of life with no confidence to enter in. Anyhow, one day following school, I began to walk home and came upon another sixth grader, a very large young man who was the school bully, who had a young fifth grade girl, the school "cooty girl," up against the wall and was smashing garbage into her face. Well, even though I was quite content to watch most of life pass by, I was not content to watch this unfold. This was injustice...this was wrong. I happen to be Italian...and therefore, my passions and emotions can, and sometime do, rule me....this was one of those moments. I, a shy spectator of life, walked up to the bully and grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around to face me. At this time I said, "Leave her alone." He then said, "Who is going to make me?" I replied, "Me." He pushed me up against the wall and began to beat the living tar out of me.....I might be emotional and passionate but I am not a good fighter. Good news was that he stopped picking on the young girl....

Now, fast forward to eleveth grade. I am still a spectator of life. I have a few good friends, but for the most part, I lack any confidence to participate in a crowd. I am at a high school football game with a friend and I had to take my little sister, Judy, with me. She was a sixth grader. Anyhow, we were watching the game from the bleachers and Judy leans over to me and says, "That large girl behind me is burning me with her cigarette butt." I look behind us and there is a very large, manly looking girl trying to burn my sister with her cigarette. Again, my emotions kick in and I say, "Hey, leave my sister alone." The large bully ignores me. A little time passes and Judy leans over and says, "She is burning me again." I turn around and say, "Hey bitch....leave my sister alone." Next thing I know, she pounces on me....we both roll down a few bleachers and I am pinned under her while she beats the crap out of me.

Okay....fast forward to today.....I am at work and sitting in a committee meeting....a discussion begins about something that will drastically affect our hourly employees. I have to admit, that for the most part I have been a spectator in this group....watching and listening to the things that are going on around me....not really confident that I can offer any wisdom to this particular group....but today.....my emotions kick in and I speak....and then I follow it up with analysis and an email.

Now, I wait....to see if this particular emotional outburst will result in the same outcome....you know....getting the crap beat out of me.

As I reflect on today...I wonder why there are these moments in my life when I refuse to be a spectator and enter into the situation with authority and courage....I find that the common denominator is when I see injustice....specifically, when someone with superior status, or size, or title, tries to silence the underdogs voice....or belittle the underdog....or take advantage of them, or neglect them....I find that I can speak, I find my voice.....or maybe I find that I can be their voice.....

More than Scooby was in my lap

So, this past Friday night was homecoming at the high school. My daughter Becky had a date....a friend date. Which meant that I had to pick her up after the dance.

It started to get late, like 11 pm, and I started to get tired, so I decided to shower and get dressed for bed. I got out of the shower and put my over-sized t-shirt, no bra, and my Scooby Doo boxer shorts. My hair was wet and I had no makeup on.

The clock struck midnight and Becky called me to say, "Come and get me." A fleeting thought enters my mind....maybe I should throw on a bra....ah.....who's going to see me? I'm just picking up my daughter.

So, I drove to the school and got in a LONG line of traffic.....I saw lots of people .....and they saw me....I comforted myself with that fact that because I am 45 years old....and nursed all three of my children, so no one could see my bra-less boobs....because they were sitting in my lap.

Growing bellies and growing love

So, as I sat there in the OB/GYN, I suddenly became very aware of my age....I am 45. I am not 25; young, bright eyed, tight skin that match the tight jeans, long flowing hair....I am not that. I am 45; older, wiser, baggy skin that match the baggy jeans, short and gray haired. My eyes are not so bright now....they do not hold that twinkle of mystery and wonder, not knowing what is down the road....no, they hold a look that says, "Oh, I know what you are in for....I've been there, done that"....and therefore, my eyes hold compassion.

I saw myself in those young, pregnant women. They were so full of delight as they waddled into the office. They had NO idea how much their life was about to change. They had NO idea that this is not just a time of growth in your belly. NO.....this is a growth in your love....from now until the day you die. This baby is your responsibility....you will never stop worrying about this child....you sill never stop loving this child...you will never stop wanting the best, working to provide....and the more children that you have....the more your love and worry grows....and then your children grow and get married and have children....and the more your love and worry grows.

So, maybe that explains the difference in our looks....their look is expected love......my look captures an existing love, an expanding love.....a full love, with all the responsibility that entails.

No shoes, no shirt, no service

So, OB/GYN, observation day 2......

I am amazed at what is going on in our society today.....yesterday, as I waited for 4 glorious hours in the waiting room of the OB/GYN, I couldn't help but get a glimpse of our current economy. I happened to sit in the chair next to the front desk. I can't begin to count the number of women who were VERY pregnant, and signed in, only to be called back up to the desk and told, "I'm sorry, your insurance is no longer active."

Then I listened to these young ladies, MANY of them, trying to convince the receptionist that there is some mistake....they have insurance. After several phone calls, they were told that they have no insurance.

One young lady is burned into my memory. She was VERY pregnant, I mean drop that baby at any moment pregnant. She walked up to the front desk and signed in and gave them her insurance card. Then she was called back up and told, "I'm sorry, your insurance is no longer active." She looked like a deer in the headlights....totally confused and shocked.

She slowly walked back to her seat and sat and stared for a long time. Then she proceeded to make several calls on her cell phone. When she finished the final one, she still had the deer in the headlights look.

This doctor's office basically refused at least seven women in the four hours that I was there.

I came home and read my paper and there was an article from a Christian OB/GYN that said he has never seen the amount of patients that have tried to convince his staff that they still have their insurance, when in fact, they do not. He and his office have decided to wave payments for these poor women who have no insurance and are pregnant or sick.

Can I just say this, "God, please bless this doctor and his practice!"

What have we become? When a woman who is ready to drop a baby any moment is told that she has not insurance and without insurance, there is no service......seriously, is this what we have become?

I am reminded of the signs, "No shoes, no shirt, no service," that is found on most fast-food joints.....now, I am expecting to see this sign on all doctor's office doors, "No insurance, no service."

Waddle, waddle

So, today I spent about 4 hours in the waiting room of an OB/GYN....I've got lots of material for the next few days.

First off, can I just ask this: "Why oh why do we have to have the OB and the GYN doctor combined?" Seriously, these young pregnant women sure as heck don't want to see me.....what they will look like some 20 years from now.

But for us 40 somethings....well, it was a fun day.

One of the highlights came when a very pregnant 20 something dropped her pen....I sat there and watched as she tried to bend over and maneuver around belly to get that pen. It took her a good six tries to finally grab that pen. Fun times.

I enjoyed people watching. There was the couple who walked into the waiting room with a newborn baby (I'd guess 6 weeks old) in tow. They both had that "we have a newborn in the house" look. You know, the running on no sleep, having no idea what to do with this screaming, eating, pooping little creature. The young mom looked totally weary....you know, that "crazy no sleep" look. The dad had that "not much sleep and no sex" look about him. I could tell he was anxious for his wife to get the 6 week followup appointment over and hear these words, "It's safe to have sex again." I could tell his wife had the "it might be 6 weeks, but there is no way in _ _ _ _ I am giving him sex" look. As a matter of fact, as they sat there waiting, he was fidgeting and anxious....he wanted to get back to the doctor as soon as possible.....she sat there, dead-dog tired, big bags under her eyes, breast feeding the baby....trying to burp her....and she just stared at her husband....that crazy-no-sleep look. I am going to watch the 11 o'clock news tonight to see if the doctor said yes or no to 6 week sex....I figure if the doctor said yes, I will see a homicide due to insanity on the news tonight.

I'll give some more highlights later.

Hillbilly heaven

So, today I had to run into Kroger quickly to get a cookie-cake for work tonight. I was on my lunch hour and in a bit of a hurry.

Note to self....never think that you can run into Kroger quickly for anything in the middle of the day when you live in Hillbilly Heaven.

So, I am flying into the Kroger parking lot when alas, I have to slam on the break for a very large, old, dilapidated Town Car who decides to pull in front of me and SLOWLY make his way through the parking lot. Grrrrr........me and my Honda are tight on his rear-end.

Slowly......oil-burning Town Car putt-putt-putt looking for a parking spot.....as soon as I get to a row, I make a hard left and Town Car continues closer to the entrance. I go about 6 spots down the row and park. I quickly get out of the car and rapidly walk to the entrance. As I get close to the entrance....there is the dang Town Car pulling up in front of the store, in the fire lane, and parking.

"Are you kidding me," I think to myself.

Then the best part of my day happens.....the lady in the Town Car opens her door as I am approaching and gets out and steps right in front of me....a move that is very similar to the one she just made with her car. "Nice," I think. Then she spreads out between the flowers that line the entrance to Kroger so that I can not get around her.

I am in a mood now.....

Then, as if this hasn't been fun enough.......she proceeds to shuffle slowly toward the door (blocking me) and begins to dig her underwear out of her butt-crack....

Yes, you read that right....now I'm tight on her rear-end, only this time, it just gives me a front row seat to a wedgy pick!

Trip, trap, trip, trap

So, last night I had a dream, a nightmare really. I dreamed that a very mean, ominous-looking billy goat was coming at me with very demon-like eyes. He was trying to headbutt me. My loud screams awoke me.

Okay, so what does this dream mean.

Hmmmmm.....a billy goat, a white billy goat with big horns. That could be so many things...like an authority figure, you know, a big, white figure of authority..... or maybe an institution, you know, with big, long horns.

Why is it trying to headbutt me? That could be to push me down the "hill," or maybe it was to cause a brain injury and establish intellectual superiority that would otherwise be impossible....

Just some ideas.......

Bestest friends in the male world

So, I happen to have a male dog named Graham. My neighbor has a male dog named Benny. Graham and Benny are bestest friends.

I have to say, I am fascinated watching these two guys relate. I think it is a microcosm of my world. One of the things, out of many, that I have noticed is this: when Graham lifts his leg and goes, then Benny has to come and go in the same exact spot....to which Graham has to go again in that spot....and so it continues until one of them runs out of liquid.

Hmmmmm.........

Was that fried shrimp or grilled shrimp?

So, I was away on a work trip for five days. My parents came down and watched my children for me while I was gone. When I got home, we all got in the car to go out to eat. Mom and dad began a debate on some insignificant thing, like did they have fried shrimp or grilled shrimp at that restaurant 5 years ago.

Anyhow, from the back seat Becky says, "I now know what the saying, 'They bicker like an old married couple.' means." I begin to laugh. Mema says, "What does that mean? We don't bicker." Papa says, "Now Mary, you bicker all the time." Mema says, "No I don't...."

And so it continues!

So I wonder what that sign looks like?

I have lived in deer country throughout different times of my life; Ohio, Pennsylvania and West Virginia. So I know what this sign means. It means to carefully drive the roads at night, always watching for those deer along the side of the road. Always looking for those deer that stand right in the edge of the woods waiting to play "Frogger" with the oncoming cars. I am certain it is a rite of passage for deer...to become the big buck.

I now live in Kentucky...and I think I have had 3 deer run across the road in the 13 years that I have lived here. So, my skills at watching for those deer that suddenly jump out in front of you are a little rusty.

Tonight, I had to run down to work...it's about a 2 minute commute through the streets of Wilmore. I am driving along and suddenly two crazy kids on bikes dart out in front of me. I swerve out into the other lane and go around them.....heart thumping. I get to the stop sign and turn left. I begin to accelarate when suddenly a man and his son, both wearing all black, dart out in front of me to catch a basketball that they were playing with....again, slam on breaks, swerve into the other lane.....heart pounding. I am now driving through downtown Wilmore, a sleepy little town, and suddenly a young boy, all in black, walking his dog, who thankfully was white, decides to dart out across the road.....same story.

I begin to laugh....in Kentucky, we don't have crazy deer that dart out in front of you at night....oh no. In Kentucky, we have crazy hillbillies that wear all black clothing who dart out in front of you at night! It must be their rite of passage here....to go from hillbilly to redneck.

Head and heart

So, today I took my son to the doctor. I heard THE MOST INCREDIBLE NEWS while there. I can honestly say, I almost started to cry. I was overjoyed.

The good news was not that David has Swine Flu, which he does, and we did hear that while there, but that is not the INCREDIBLE news.

The INCREDIBLE news is this: scientist have found that 2 servings of alcohol taken daily is good for your heart, AND now they have found that it will also lower your risk of Alzheimer disease. Yes, you read that right....now there are 2 good medical reasons to drink.

I think the new motto should be, "wine - where head and heart go hand in hand to health."

Death or life?

So, today is my mom's birthday. How old is she? Well, I don't want to admit it, and I don't want to say it out-loud, but she is 77 years old today.

She and my dad are coming down to watch my children for me in two days, so I didn't mail her birthday card, I decided to give it to her in person when she arrives.

I called her this morning to wish her a "happy birthday!" I wasn't able to reach her until after church. When she finally answered, we sang, "happy birthday" to her. Then I spoke to her for a while, and handed the phone to Becky to talk to her.

At this point, Becky hears something that I have known for a long time.....my mom's birthday is not a day that she likes to celebrate. Why? Well, as Becky heard today from mema, "I am 77 years old today, but 44 years ago today, I buried my dad."

Becky hung up the phone and was distraught. She then said, "Mom, did you know that mema's dad was buried on her birthday?" I told her that I did know that, and I knew that was the reason that mema preferred to forget her birthday.

Then I told her this...."I am so grateful that I am 45 years old, and that I get to celebrate my mom's birthday, and I am so thankful that you are 15 years old and get to celebrate your grandma's birthday."

I have always ached for my mom....I can't imagine burying a parent on your birthday.

Thank you Lord for today....for being able to celebrate the day that my mom was born....a day that has been tainted for her because of the death of her father....but a day that is honored for me....because of the birth of my mother.

Monster truck crash in church

So, remember my "Monster Trucks" post several months ago....for those that don't, let me remind you. My 12-year old son calls large breasts, "Monster Trucks."

Okay, today I am sitting in church next to a friend, Mary. My children, Becky and David, finally come into the sanctuary. Mary steps out of the pew to let them in, and I just decide to scoot down and let them sit next to her. Becky looks at me and says, "Trade places? Don't you want to sit next to your friend?" I say sure, and I begin to try to scoot behind them....I am bumping and squeezing between them and the chairs....finally, I get back to my original seat.

We do some praise and worship and then the pastor gets up and says that the question for meet-and-greet is, "When was the last time that you saw an accident."

Becky turns to me and says, "There was a massive monster truck wreck just minutes ago here in this pew."

Lady, where's my spy camera?

So, I am a secret Simpson's fan. I haven't watched it in years, but I used to watch it all the time. There was one episode that I remember that was one of my favorites. Bart had ordered a mail-order "Spy camera" from a magazine, and every day after sending his order in the mail, he would greet the mail-woman at the door and say this, "Lady, where's my spy camera?"

Okay, I happen to have a few obsessive compulsive people in my life...I think that might be why I loved this episode.

So my oldest daughter, Katie, is at college. I miss her. I miss the sound of her voice (she communicates with me via texting)....I miss how she looks. Well, I was wandering around on Geneva's website and found that they have 2 webcams...I found this right before I took her to college. Okay, so here I am....I am missing her and I find that daily I meet the mail-woman at the door and look at my "spy camera"....in other words, I'm on the Geneva website daily, trying to catch one little glimpse of my girl.

I guess now I know why I have obessive compulsive people in my life.....we attract each other.

Big life....small room

So, my oldest, Katie, is at college now. Yes I know, it's hard to believe that someone who looks so young could possibly have a child in college....humor me please....I'm teetering on the edge.

Anyhow, so she is away at school. I was talking with a friend about it and she said, "Our children have to be let go....and their life inflates like a life preserver."

I have been mulling over that statement. I like that statement. I picture one of those inflatable life rafts....those rafts that have a pull cord. You pull it and the flat, small raft begins to fill with air....expanding into a very large raft, filling a room (if you are crazy enough to pull the cord in a room).

That is my Katie....as she has grown up, her life has been expanding.....but to reach her fullness....she had to be let go.....moved out of that small room and into the world so that she had room to expand. She is away at college now....expanding.

Here's the funny thing that I have noticed....now that Katie has moved out of the house....it has made more room for Becky to begin to expand. She is beginning to fill that space. I've always enjoyed being with Becky, but I never realized how extremely funny she is.

Yes....our children do need room to expand.....and as we give them room and move them out of the house....it makes room for the next child.

Emergency

So, last night I had to go to a dinner at work with some dignitaries. As I was leaving home, I tell Becky and David, "I am going to be at a dinner. Don't call me. TEXT if you need me."

Okay, so sitting at dinner talking with people and discussing church issues. Buzzzzz.......buzzzzzz, I look and see this message from David, "There is a big bug in our house and its on the really high up window. How do I kill it."

"Don't worry about it," I text back.

Buzz......buzz

"What if it lays eggs," David asks.

I respond, "Don't worry."

Buzz.....buzz

"Will you kill it?" David texts.

This continues until I finally text...."Stop texting me. I am in a meeting......only text if it is an emergency."

A little later I get this text from David, "Its an emergency."

My heart stops and I text, "What?"

David responds, "When are we gonna bomb the house because idk where its at and it moved."

Emergency.....there was almost an emergency when I got home from my dinner......and it had nothing to do with the whereabouts of the big bug!

Family jewels

So, yesterday I had a couple of moles removed from my leg....something that I have to live with because my mom and dad loved me more than my siblings and therefore bestowed all the family jewels, er....I mean moles, on me! Thanks mom and dad!

Anyhow, yesterday I went to the doctor and they snipped the little boogers off. I never bother to tell anyone because it is not really a big deal to me.

Last night I was sitting in the living room talking to my children and playing around. David decides to punch me in the leg in jest. Of course, he pegs me right in the spot where a mole was removed. I winced. He asked me why. I told him that I had some moles removed and he happened to hit me in one of the spots.

At this point, Katie my resident smart-butt, says, "David, punch her all over the place so we can see what else she's had done and been hiding from us!"

What size?

So, I blogged about my bra blowout last week.....well there is more to the story.

Good news, Victoria has stood behind her product. They mailed me a new bra and asked me to mail my blown-out bra back to them.

I did not have an envelope to put the bra in, so today I tucked the used, blown-out bra under my armpit and headed to the little post office here in town. A friend, Tammy, was riding to work with me, so when I stopped to go into the post office, she decided to go in for stamps. Fine.....I told her that I was hoping for the following: no men in the post office and a woman behind the counter.

We walk in....I say, "Whew, good, no men and a woman behind the counter." Tammy, my friend, steps in front of me and goes to the counter and orders stamps.......IS SHE KIDDING ME?????? So, I'm standing there waiting in line and sure enough, "bing-bong," the door opens and in walks a man.....a student from where I work.

Well, now I am totally flustered and walk up to the counter and I stammer out, "Ummmm....I have something that I need to return and I need an envelope."

The woman behind the counters says, "What size?"

I am dumbfounded....is she asking me the size of my bra? How does she know....I have it safely tucked up under my arm?"

I am stammering and I realize that she is asking me what size envelope....well, I can't think so I say, "Just give me 100 stamps."

I pay and take my stamps out into the lobby and begin to give Tammy, my friend, a piece of my mind.

I wait for the gentleman to leave and I walk back in and up to the counter. The woman behind the counter looks at me like I have completely lost my mind and says, "Can I help you again?"

I say, "Okay." and I pull out the double D and say, "I have to mail this. My beep-beep friend jumped in front of me and then that man came in and I didn't want to pull this out in front of him. But now, I need an envelope to stuff this in and I need to mail it back to the company."

She laughs. I say, "So what size do you think I need?" She looks at my bra laying there on the counter and say, "I'd make it a BIG one."

Thanks friend!

Follow your bubbles

So, I once sat in on a beginner-level scuba diving course. I remember hearing this...."If you get disoriented or confused under water; exhale and follow your bubbles." See, your bubbles will always go to the surface and they will lead you up.

I feel like I'm drowning; I'm disoriented and confused. So, I am exhaling and blowing bubbles.....

Too many nuts at work

So, today I am at work. It's getting around 10:00 am and I'm getting hungry. So I mosey on back to the stash of mixed nuts that we always have on hand in the back office. There are 4 opened cans of mixed nuts. I open can #1 - only thing left in there is a few peanuts. I open can #2 - only thing left is a half a can of peanuts. I open can #3 and it is full to the top with....you guessed it, peanuts. I don't even have to open can #4 because the lid is off and there are only peanuts.

I go through each can, pushing peanuts aside with my finger....hoping to come across one little hazelnut or almond....anything but another peanut. Alas, there is one lonely little hazelnut hidden in the bottom of can #3. And the only reason it survived was because it was so small that it looked like a peanut.

I wonder....how many peanuts do they put in each can compared to the other more popular nuts. It sure seems like they put 2 hazelnuts, 2 Brazil nuts, 3 almonds, 3 cashews, and 4 walnuts......and the rest of that 12 oz can is all peanuts. I wonder.....what if they put 50 hazelnuts, 25 Brazil nuts, 40 almonds, 30 cashews, 19 walnuts and 2 PEANUTS in there!!! Would everyone then think the peanuts are the special nut? Would everyone fight over the peanut? Is it the sheer volume of the peanuts found in the mix nuts what seems to make it so ordinary?

I know, I know....when it comes to nuts....I'm king.....but I have to wonder sometimes if I am just a little peanut....nothing special.....just one in a million in a can of nuts......in case you are wondering, the nut can is my metaphor for my place of work. Oh......I long to be that one little hazelnut found in the bottom of the can!

Clip.....Ouch

So, yesterday I was sitting at work when two of my children, Becky and David, show up. They had been bored at home and walked to see me.

We visited for a few minutes. Becky then said, "Mom, I have a hang nail. Do you have any nail clippers here?"

I pull out the pair of nail clippers that I keep safely tucked in my desk drawer and hold them up in the air, as if holding Excalibur......at this point.......a heavenly light shines upon them and heavenly music begins to play.

Becky is thrilled and pleads for me to gently hand them to her....and David runs over and begs for them following Becky's turn.

Okay, it's time to shed a little light on the history of the nail clippers. My oldest daughter, Katie, has some kind of weird nail clipper fetish....which causes any nail clippers that I buy for our home to magically disappear anytime Katie has used them. She ALWAYS claims that she has put them back where they belong, but this is what I know.....one minute they are in their designated place and the next minute I hear Katie using them.....and then, "Poof," they are gone. So, my solution, after sacrificing 35 nail clippers to the nail clipper fiend in our home, was to buy a pair and leave them at work. Good solution for me....not such a good one for Becky and David.

Back to yesterday at work, Becky spends 15 minutes giving herself a pedicure and a manicure...I hear, "Clip, ouch........clip, ouch............clip, ouch. Man those little buggers could put my eye out." This is what happens when you can't find clippers at home....Becky's nails were monstrously long, and the cutting of them was causing those long buggers to fly up and hit her in the face....nearly putting out an eye.

Next it was David's turn. Again, finger nails flying.....then the shoes came off and the toe nails started to fly.

When they finished, they each breathed a sigh of relief......"Oh, that feels so good."

So, today I'm sitting at my desk.....when my co-worker comes in and stops short of coming near my desk. "Tammy, what is that?" she asks. I look....there on the edge of my desk is one BIG toe nail....a gift from my son. I laugh and look around me.....they have left me gifts of themselves....I am sitting in the midst of toe and finger nail shards.......totally surround by them.

I love my kids.....all the way down to their little toes!

A blowout

So, have you ever had a blowout while traveling at a high speed?

I did, today....quite a scary thing!

I was walking with a friend over to the Subway....walking when suddenly, blowout, whomp...whomp....whomp......wobbling out of control.

To be specific....I blew one cup on my bra. The underwire blew out completely.....poking me in the side and leaving my boob to wobble all over the place.

I slowed down and traveled slower. My friend suggested pulling the underwire out....but that would have been like driving with a doughnut....no thanks. So, I just drove around slowly on my "flat."

Okay Victoria......here's a secret......we double D's need to be able to travel at high speeds without worrying about a blowout!

40 miles from Place to Pointe

So, last week my son's soccer team manager sent me 3 emails concerning their first game, which was to be held this past Sunday. I don't know why he sent me THREE. The subject line said, "Directions to Bell P..." Okay, so I read the subject line up to "Bell P...." and my mind reads "Bell Place" which is my son's home field.

I found it strange that they would send out directions to his home field...but justified it because we have some new team members that might not know how to find our field. Since I know how to get to Bell Place, our home field, I didn't read the directions. I did read that we were to be at the field at 1:45pm.

It's Sunday, I go to church and then kill time grocery shopping at Kroger before going to pick up David from an overnighter at a friends house. We are on our way home (it's 1:15pm) and David asks me if we are going to make it to his game by 1:45pm. I tell him that we will be a little early, as Bell Place is only 10 minutes from our house. David then says, "I think our game is in Frankfort." I tell him he is wrong....he asks me how I know this and I tell him because I got 3 emails from Rod giving me directions to Bell Place. David insists that the game is in Frankfort. So he calls Rod to make sure.....it's now 1:25pm.

Rod confirms what David has said.....the game is in Frankfort.....at Bell Pointe....40 miles from home....it's 1:30pm. We throw the groceries into the house and start our flight to Frankfort. I arrive 5 minutes before the game.

Just enough time for David to change into his new uniform on the sidelines.....stripping down to his boxers to change.....his coach says, "Nice undies." David replies, "My mom says they are not undies, they are boxer SHORTS."

So my life....a comedy of errors!

They're coming to take me away

So this morning I have to take my daughter to high school at 8:00 am for band practice. It is FOGGY....I mean cut-it-with-a-knife fog! So I am driving slowly. I drop her off and head back Jessamine Station Road.....going to work. I am driving slowly down the road when suddenly I see some things running right down the road toward me.

In this fog, I can't make out what I am seeing so I begin to slow down. I see several tall things lumbering at me. In the mist, it looks like several 6 ft. tall men in white suites running toward me.

A song begins to run through my mind....

They're coming to take me away, ha-haaa!!
They're coming to take me away, ho-ho, hee-hee, ha-haaa To the funny farm.
Where life is beautiful all the time and I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats and they're coming to take me away, ha-haaa!!!!!

Okay...so now these tall, lumbering men in white coats are getting closer (coming to take me away)....so I come to a stop, in the middle of the road.

At this moment, the tall lumbering men in white coats turns out to be a pack of llamas. They run past my car.....YES.....that was a pack of llamas.

I sat there...in this surreal fog.....with a pack of llamas running past me....wondering, "Maybe those men in white coats do need to take me away." I wonder if this funny farm has llamas.

Porch time again

Good friends gather together on a porch and there is.....

Laughter and silence,
Joy and tears,
Life and love,
Sunset and clouds,
Truth and grace.

The sound of majesty

So, today I am at work and my kids are home. Suddenly a storm rolls in....I mean a storm; powerful and mysterious......fast and furious......majestic and grand.

I love a good storm....I love to watch a good storm roll in...I love to stop and listen to the crashing thunder. In those moments I find that the noise of our crazy world cease, seeming silent....muted by the sound of majesty. I love those moments.

In those moments, like today, I am amazed at the grandeur of God.

I join the Psalmist in thought, "When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; What is man that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visited him?"

I have passed along my love of storms to my children, and even my dog.

So, today, this powerful storm rolls in....I am excited. I am watching it unfold out the window and suddenly the power of the storm and the fact that my children are home alone hits me...and I begin to worry. I am not there to 'protect' them.

BOOM, RUMBLE.....I realize that this powerful storm shows the strength of my God....the strength of my God to create this storm and protect my children.

The crazy thoughts of my small mind, muted by the majesty of God!

Floating gently

So, yesterday I killed two of God's gentle creations.

The first killing happened as I was driving home from Ohio. I was cruising down I-71 in the middle of Ohio. I spotted a beautiful butterfly floating gently through the air above the highway. Suddenly it dipped down and the airstream of my vehicle blew it up and over my car. I looked in the rear view mirror and there it was plummeting to the pavement.

After getting home and unpacking, I began mowing my lawn. It was dusk. As I was mowing, I noticed that there were a few fireflies left lighting up the air. The end of firefly season. As I was pushing the mower on my final lap, I noticed a firefly landing right in front of my mower. It gets sucked up under the mower and I see it light up for the final time....

I love butterflies and fireflies...they are so beautiful, so gentle, just floating around adding beauty to the earth. I want to walk gently through this world....adding only beauty.

This rides for you Angelo!

So, this week I am spending some time with my family….my children and my parents. It is our annual pilgrimage to church camp in the mountains of Pennsylvania. We spend 10 days together. I spend my time going to church, watching the children play and watching my children try to pair up...I have teenagers….I spend most of my time keeping my eye on them.

Well, this week has been a little different….my dad got a call this afternoon that his dear friend Angelo had passed away. This is one of my dad’s dearest friends. He and Angelo have been friends for 70 years….since they were 6 years old. They spent many days in their youth playing together. As they grew older and married, they ended up moving to the same town. They were hunting buddies….taking a yearly trip somewhere exotic to slay the big game. As they grew older, they were gun buddies…always looking for a good deal on a gun to purchase or sell. They also loved to watch baseball games together…specifically, the Tribe.

Well, it's been an interesting day as I have watched my dad mourn his friend. I know how I would mourn a dear friend, but I am a woman. How does my dad, a tough guy, a hunting guy, mourn his lifelong friend? Well, he sat silently for a while…then he got in his golf cart and he drove off slowly….a few minutes later he drove by with a cart full of children. He had gone out to the home of a couple who has two mentally handicapped children and asked if he could take these children on a golf cart ride. He spent the afternoon giving each one a ride all over the campground. Their faces were glowing with excitement.

I sat and watched and wondered what that did for my dad’s hurting soul….