Deadheading

My dark pink "Knockout" roses around the swimming pool fence are amazing. They bloom for months and make the whole back yard alive with color. They grow large and quickly, producing several buds on the end of one stem.

I was pruning them this week, standing in the beautiful fall sunshine and noticing how many roses were yet to bloom in November. When you cut a dead flower off the shrub, it's called "deadheading". The whole point is to get rid of the dead flower so a live one can grow in it's place. The more you prune, the more the roses multiply.

There's a spiritual analogy here (and God used the whole pruning thing in the Bible) that really hit me this week. We have to get rid of the "dead" in our lives to blossom with new life, but there is also a period of "nothing"... that time between the dead and the live. You can't see the new growth, but it's coming. And it's going to be beautiful when it arrives.

Sometimes I feel dead and sometimes I feel alive, but a lot of life is that in between time... when growth is happening, but you can't see it. Maybe you can't even feel it. You wonder if God's at work. You wonder if He cares that you just got pruned back and it hurt. You wonder if He's going to let the whole branch just die - or restore it with even more blooms.

I've lived longer than a lot of you and I can tell you the answer. He's going to restore it with even more blooms. The Bible is true. God is a restorer. He's a multiplier (ever notice he doesn't add? He multiplies!). He uses the time from cutting off to breaking forth. He strengthens us then. We wait. And then we see the beauty. And it's worth it.

The 7th Quirk

I forgot something. And it's important. Like a really big deal important.

I HATE THE BURGER KING MAN!

No, seriously. He is a creepster. And I'm not alone. Being in the advertising and marketing industry, I get professional journals and one of them recently listed the most hated company icons. Burger King Man rated right near the top. Had I voted, he would have been first because I would have voted over and over until he won.

If I see him on TV before going to sleep, I have to watch something else to take his image out of my brain. If I don't, I can imagine his huge plastic face peering into my bedroom window. I would have horrible dreams.

And the commercial where he's in bed with someone? My worst nightmare. I am not kidding. If I woke up and rolled over to see that, it would be the last face I see before I see the face of Jesus. I'd have a heart attack and go on to my reward. And trust me, I'd be right next to the throne for my trouble. Anyone who wakes up with the Burger King Man and dies from shock would have God's deep sympathy and be ushered right to the throne.

How do I know this? Jesus hates the Burger King Man too. He gives Kings a bad name.

My 6 Quirks

Only 6? I'm sure I have more! But, my daughter tagged me to post 6, so here goes:

1. I don't know why, but when I eat snacks (pretzels, peanuts, grapes, etc.), I always take an even number. Yep. Give me 2. If I get 3, I have to take another. It's weird, I know.
2. I never step on sidewalk cracks. The proverbial breaking of my mother's back is a deep-seated fear. And it applies to painted parking stripes too, btw.
3. Can't stand to leave trash in my car. If there is a cup, a wrapper, a straw cover... it goes in when I do. Period.
4. NO ONE can write in my Bible or my notebooks or on my stuff but ME! I hate for anyone else to mark on my things. My husband has horrible handwriting and I think this started when he began "booggering up" my stuff with his crummy penmanship. He now puts all of my papers in a file and scrawls my name across the file (so I have to throw it away after I clean it out, of course) because if he writes my name on my papers, I hate it. He'll use a red pen or something ugly and mark on something decent and then it's ruined. Can't take it. So, now I am ultra protective of my stuff. No one mark on it or you are toast.
5. My counters are a quirk. I wipe them down constantly. No crumbs, no stains. If you clean the kitchen and don't wipe down the counters, you didn't clean the kitchen!
6. The "no toilet paper panic" quirk: if you're ever trapped in a horrible crisis and can't find any toilet paper, call me. I have some. I'm sure of it. No matter when it is, I have extra rolls in my house. I must have been through some kind of toilet paper roll outage as a child because now I want to make sure I don't run out. I store it in every bathroom and always have a huge supply from Costco's in the closet. I'm set. I don't have to worry.

There are others - like keeping a glass of ice water nearby at all times so I never get thirsty (and it helps my diet) - but you already think I'm weird enough. If you only knew....

The empty, full, empty nest

Marriage is an interesting journey we each experience. The bookends are empty nests. The part in the middle is full of children, school work, activities, sports and family events.

There are some great things about being at the "second bookend" of life. We are right where we were when we got married - time together, no demands on our time, no race to get home at night, no bedtimes... Such a shift in our thinking. It's hard to believe that we can actually do whatever we want to now. Stay up late, skip a meal, eat any time, sleep in, do less laundry and not worry about homework deadlines. That part is wonderful.

What is also wonderful is realizing we are still best friends. We love being together, even it's just "being".

Adjusting to the Empty Nest

I wait for her car to drive up the driveway at night, but it doesn't. I listen for the door to open after she gets off work, but it doesn't. I look to see if my bed fills up with teenage girls on Friday nights, laughing and talking about the game... it doesn't.

Some days feel so quiet. Most days. The daily news of who dates whom and who called and who is coming over and who is meeting at Starbuck's doesn't come either.

I like not having to get anyone to school in the mornings, not doing as much laundry, not worrying about fixing healthy meals (or pizza!)... but I'd take all of that to have her back here with me.

She is so happy now. And I'm truly happy for her. But I miss her.

Letting Go

I'm not good at it. I never have been. I don't let go easily and I don't give up. I keep churning things over in my mind and thinking of ways not to let go. But I have to now.

My baby is going off to college... in another state. I won't know where she is, who she's with or what she's doing. I won't be there to remind her to study, remind her of appointments, remind her to get gas for her car or remind her to eat properly. She's going to make mistakes. I did. I just hope they are minor ones.

I've been praying a lot. And yet, it's still difficult to release my daughter and go to a position of total trust. I suspect kids going off to college is as much about the Lord working in the parents' lives as it is about working in the children.

And I have a lot to learn.

The Happiest Sad Day

Our family just climbed out of the pool after a day of grilling out and relaxing together. Seeing my husband play in the water with his darling grandson was such a blessing this year. Our baby boy has blessed us all and this first Father's Day for my son-in-love was wonderful to observe.

Last night, I wrote a tribute to my dad for an academic web site where his career is to be highlighted. Daddy died 22 years ago this month and I recently surprised myself by crying over his death again. I'm always amazed that the grief is still so close to the surface after all of this time. And yet, when I consider how much I loved him - and still do - it makes sense. He was very relational, witty, smart, loving and unconditional in that love. He taught me how to adore my children because he adored me. I learned so many valuable character traits from his life and I had the privilege of being a student in his university class. He was an unusually gifted teacher - always well prepared and inspirational. Whether he was teaching me a new word at the dinner table (no wonder I became a wordsmith!) or teaching me how to sing, he was diligent and patient and ever the teacher. He never let a teachable moment slip through his hands.

One thing he said to me many times - and repeated in class - was "the world is full of mediocrity and you don't need to add to it." Throughout my life, people have told me I am an over-achiever. On this Father's Day, I am thinking about the fact that I have come so far because I had a Dad who challenged me to set high standards and attain them. I've had a loving family, successful career, volunteered in ministry and gathered an array of trusted friends, coworkers and family members who have blessed my life.

I'm not mediocre, Dad. Thanks.

In a good place

The changes in our lives are sinking in. Bob is home full-time now, off for the summer if he doesn't go back to teaching halftime in the fall. Otherwise, he'll look for another job opportunity to help pay that college tuition for Ellen. He's enjoying projects in our pool house (like putting a stucco-like covering on the walls) and being productive at home. I'm working part-time and able to help contribute to the family income while spending time with Bob and my kids - and grandson! That is a wonderful experience that warms my heart. Elle is feeling better and working to make college money. She seems happy and healthy. Spiritually, we're all seeking the Lord for what's next in our journey. But we trust him.

Sometimes, I just feel good about life. Blessed. Like now.

The Week that Was...

In the past 6 days, Ellen graduated, we hosted a big graduation party, Ann turned 27 and we celebrated with dinner and gifts, we all attended the 3-day/night revival at the Cobb Civic Center, I worked for several clients, Bob retired on Wednesday and had a luncheon on Tuesday, and we hosted 22 new moms at a pool party at our house. Whew!

Research states that change triggers stress... even if it's good change. Well, we've had lots of change this week and yet it's rather exciting. We have no idea what God has in store for the future, but we know He is good and He is faithful. Bob is looking for a second career and we are busy preparing to move Elle to University of Alabama in August. We are facing the empty nest with hesitation and anticipation.

In some ways, it seems odd that God would take us through so much transition at this time of life. Yet we all face these changes and we learn to trust Him with a new segment of our journey. What's next? We don't know. But we do know who knows. And we're OK with that.

Exhaling

Elle graduated Saturday, thanks to a series of wonderful works from the Father over a period of time. Most recently, she was struggling in algebra and we all felt such a hopelessness about the prospects of graduating. Then God brought us an amazing solution and she made a B. As we celebrated her graduation on Saturday, Bob and I sat in disbelief as we talked about how God showed up and brought us to this point. In so many ways, He's been faithful.

Then many friends and family stopped by to congratulate Elle... and the warmth of our home, filled with people who love us and whom we love, was overwhelming. Again, God showed up and blessed us with the wonder of Christian community.

A Tribute to Teachers

We went to the Cobb County Teacher Retirement Luncheon this week. My husband is retiring and I wanted us to enjoy this recognition occasion. When we pulled into the parking lot, I couldn't help but notice the modest cars being exited by nicely dressed people in conservative attire. My heart was warmed by the realization that each of these 209 teachers had given a lifetime of service and were now being honored with a chicken dinner and a plaque, gifts that were tiny tokens of the enormous respect due for what had been accomplished in thousands of lives. Their service totaled more than 5,450 years. What an investment in educating our children.

I never felt more pride for my husband. He's the finest teacher I know and full of intelligence and creativity. He served 30 years in Cobb and another 4 in Marietta City, influencing thousands of young people. He has been a sponsor for Fellowship of Christian Athletes for 30 years too - and that ministry has had a high impact. He has accomplished much, and done it well. His service has been his ministry.

It was surreal to sit there and realize it's over. We don't feel old enough to be retiring and we anticipate many useful years ahead. Yet we believe God is calling us to something new. We're eager to find out what's next.

In the meantime, I am so deeply grateful to have spent my life as a teacher's wife.

Speeding Toward the Finish Line

When your child graduates from high school, it's a huge accomplishment... for the parents. I read today that having young children is physically demanding, but having teenagers is emotionally demanding. Amen, sista!

Perhaps the greatest pressure comes from the culture of these teenagers. If your child is in the midst of a generation obsessed with drinking, drugs, sexual immorality and lack of morals, you might think that sounds like every other generation. I can tell you that it's not. This group of "children" face more of everything than any generation in the past... more STDs, more AIDS, more binge drinking, more promiscuity, more drug addiction, more profanity... just more of everything.

And less of Jesus.

Sure, there are a few kids who have held on spiritually. But they are swimming up stream and need our support. And the kids swimming down stream need it even more. My husband and I are more convinced than ever that our call is to help young people. It's always been that way, but the need is more desperate now. An entire segment of our culture has shifted to the world.

So as I face the finish line of one part of life - and a sense of relief to have made it - I am also facing the starting line of another four years. And to combat the stress of thinking about that journey, I am looking up. I am focusing on the Lord and His amazing power to sustain my child. I am asking Him to get us all to the next finish line. And more than that, to get us there successfully. With Him.

The older I get...

... the less I know.

Sometimes I feel like really knowing God is something that becomes more and more elusive as I age. The deeper I go with Him, the more I realize His vastness. And my limited understanding. It's exciting, but perplexing.

How can I be at this stage of my spiritual journey and still be getting such rapid fire deep truths? Because God is so endless that no matter how far we go with Him, there is always more. Lots more.

A new lesson in compassion

Ever notice how you have so much more to share when you study? Sometimes, I feel too empty to blog because I don't have a new insight. But I studied something this week that really struck me.

I read the book of Jude and then the commentary. The commentator talks about reaching others who are not living the life of a believer. He says we must distinguish between "those who are willful and those who are weak." He - Matthew Henry - encourages us to help the weak and guide those who want to make good choices, but fail. Most of us fall into the "weak" category, so that means we are to encourage each other within the body of believers and reach out to those who don't believe. It implies that the willful are not ready to make a change and while we can pray for them, we should focus on the weak. They are more open to truth and need our Christian compassion and guidance.

It's as if God is showing us priorities in ministry. Reach for the weak.

What if nobody shows up?

Have you ever prepared to host an event at your home? You know that the biggest part is cleaning your house, mowing the lawn, sweeping the porch and a thousand other things we all do (scrubbing the guest bathroom)to get ready. The food is next. Do I have everything I need? Cups, plates, ice, silverware? Are the leaves off of the driveway? Does the house smell clean and fresh? Are the fingerprints off the door?

This week, I was hosting a group at my house and as the arrival time approached, I raced around doing last minute touch ups. I glanced at the clock and it was time. No cars pulling in. I polished the front of the oven. I wiped down the refrigerator. Five minutes later. No one. I swept the kitchen floor again. I watered plants. No doorbell. I went outside and cleaned pollen off the porch furniture. Ten more minutes went by.

Nobody is coming, I thought. All of this work and no one cares. People don't love me. No one wants to come to my house. I feel lonely and unappreciated. OK - that's a bit overstated, but I did feel like it would have been nice if people had called earlier - before all of my hard work - and let me know they are standing me up!

Then God spoke to my heart. He said, "This is how I feel when you never show up for your quiet time. I'm ready. I've prepared. I can't wait for you to get here. I have things I want to say. But your car never pulls in my driveway. You just leave me standing there and I feel disappointed. I wonder if you care."

Eventually, my guests arrived. They were late, but they came - and stayed late. We had a wonderful visit and I enjoyed their company. I was so glad they came. While I was happy to have my house clean anyway, I was happier about the time I spent visiting with friends.

I think I got a glimpse of how Jesus feels about spending time with me. And I don't want to disappoint him.

Revisiting the Beatles

It's amusing to me that teenagers - like my daughter - feel like they discovered the Beatles. Since "Across the Universe" came out (the movie that ties Beatles songs together into a storyline), the young generation is obsessed with the Beatles. My daughter has the movie sound track in her car and all of her friends know every word of every song. Old news. I've known them for years.

This week, I was driving her car and listening to the CD. And reminiscing. I was in junior high when the Beatles first came to America and created a stir. Some of my friends in Tallahassee drove to Jacksonville to see the first Beatles tour. I heard all about the stories of their adventures and marveled that they got to see Paul in person. He was the cutest one, of course.

Looking back is so much different than living in the moment. When I was a kid, I heard the lyrics about the people living next door to the Yellow Submarine (how DOES that work?), and Lucy in the sky with diamonds, and the walrus and Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name. I didn't think much about it. Assumed some of it was written on drug trips and didn't really question it. Listening to the songs now, I wonder how we went from "I wanna hold your hand" to "he likes to keep his fire engine clean. It's a clean machine." And why were we so enamored with it all? What deep truths did we really gain?

The Beatles were a big part of my generation. They shaped fashion, music, culture. What if Jesus were that influential in our world today? Life would be very different. And "all the lonely people" would be gone.

Not Missing My Friends

Don't get me wrong. I really like my friends. But when everyone goes on Spring Break except me, I love it. Here's why:

1. Less traffic. I get to the office faster and then I get everywhere else faster. Nice.
2. Lines are shorter. Fewer people everywhere means shorter lines. Nice.
3. Fewer shoppers. The stores aren't as crowded and the merchandise isn't picked over. Nice.
4. Everything in the evenings is canceled because everyone is out of town. Except me. I'm home watching three nights of American Idol. Nice. (Except for Michael Johns, a real pro with a good voice, who was surprisingly eliminated tonight. If you are just getting back from the beach and haven't watched your Tivo of AI, sorry.)
5. It feels like summer. We stay up late and sleep in a bit. The weather is nice and the routine feels lazy. Nice.
6. Fewer phone calls. Fewer emails. Fewer demands. Fewer requests. Fewer "duties". It's all nice.

So, thanks for the week off at home. I didn't spend a lot of money. I didn't get sunburned. I didn't put lots of miles on my car or eat up a lot of gasoline. I didn't have to find someone to watch my hyper dog and I didn't put anything on my credit card. I didn't eat lots of junk food on the road and I didn't blow a stack of cash eating out every night.

Dave Ramsey would be proud.

Nice.

"Mean People S*ck"

Have you ever seen that bumper sticker? I have, and I've always wondered who in the world it was talking about. I really don't know any mean people, therefore I never understood the significance of the bumper sticker.

Until now. I met the person that bumper sticker was referencing. She was "mean-spirited", as my daughter put it. She was hostile. She was mad at the world and everyone in it. She yells at kids and she calls them names. Unfortunately, she is a teacher.

I've seldom been around someone who couldn't look me in the eye and showed disdain for everyone in the room. Part of me felt sorry for her. She must be miserable. The other part of me was furious because she had screamed at my child and been unfair and unreasonable. The mother in me won out. I couldn't maintain my sympathy for her angry life. She had attacked my child - and my husband and me, even questioning our parenting skills.

She made all of us hurt under her attack, but in the end, we won. We walked out of the room to a life of joy and peace and hope and love. She walked back to her classroom to stand in front of teenagers and belittle them because they can't learn from a teacher who won't let them ask questions.

I pictured her scowling at the class from the front of the room. And I thought, "I know a good bumper sticker for your bulletin board."

Dedicating the Bear

Elijah has another name around our family. He's called "Elijah Bear" and it really suits him. He's like a lovable little teddy bear with wide eyes and soft, light brown hair. That darling lamb (I mean, bear) was dedicated Sunday morning at RiverStone and it touched my heart.

He reached for the microphone and the Bible, so Pastor Tom proclaimed Elijah ready to preach! Tom Roan had a word from God about Elijah - that he would be strong-willed (oh boy - thanks for the warning), but that God would use that strong will to make him a leader and strong in the kingdom. Pastor Mark prayed for the "spirit of Elijah" to fall on him, the spirit of a prophet who proclaims the Lord. He said Elijah had to precede the coming of the Lord and make way for Him. I have no doubt that "my Elijah" will do the same.

Everyone gathered at my house for lunch and we enjoyed having so many relatives here. The party started after church and the last family members left about 11 p.m. --- some party! But, we were celebrating the most precious child in the world. And that takes a long time to do him justice.

I Got a "Twofer"!

Last week was so disappointing. My surgical recovery wasn't going as planned and I really hurt. The odd thing was, I hurt where my gall bladder wasn't... right in the center of my abdomen ... sometimes wanting to double over in pain. I wondered about a blood clot. I thought about internal bruising. I mused about all sorts of complications (even the proverbial sponge left in the incision).

The surgeon was out until Monday, so I went in early this week to ask him what it could be. He hesitated a minute, saying that I really shouldn't hurt there because my gall bladder wasn't removed at that locale. Duh! He pushed on it (why in God's great name do doctors - and my husband - always push on the spot where I say it hurts? Just take my word for it, for the love...). Then he strolled over to my chart and started flipping pages and reading along. Then, His Royal Casualness said, "It's probably hurting where I did the hernia surgery."

What???? I didn't HAVE hernia surgery. Oh, but apparently I did! It's just that no one bothered to tell me and silly me was asleep at the time and didn't pick up on it. How COULD I have slept through a second procedure and not known it? Oh, that's right. It's called anesthesia... invented so you don't remember if you get two procedures instead of one.

Funny thing is, I walked out of the doctor's exam room and was handed two bills: one for gall bladder and one for hernia repair. Gee, it looks like SOMEONE remembered!

Lessons Learned from Surgery

Nothing ever happens like you plan it. After my emergency gallbladder surgery, I read online that I needed to recover for 3 days in bed and then 3 weeks for a total recovery. So, after 3 days I got up. And went back to bed. Day 4? In bed. Day 5 - back to work for the morning. Days 5 1/2, 6 and 7 - in bed again.

I've had some complications and side effects. I'm convinced the anesthesia is still in my system and making me feel tired. And today, I discovered I may have a hematoma in my abdomen and must return to pain meds. I hate to be a wimp, but it hurts.

Through it all, I've realized some things I needed to realize:
1. People love me (not all people, but some people) and have brought me flowers and meals. One of Ellen's friends came with tulips and sat on the bed and talked to me. People called and sent emails and cards. And asked my family about me at church. That all meant a lot.
2. Even as I suffered in excruciating pain and throwing up before surgery, I kept thinking about my dear friends with cancer and chemo who feel horrible all of the time... and that gave me courage to plow through and be half the persons that they are each day.
3. God is faithful. Despite being unable to work (I'm a consultant and depend on hourly projects), He has given us a peace about surviving the expense of the surgery and the loss of income.
4. My family is there for me. I knew that, but I'm usually on the giving end and seldom see things from this side. That was good for me.
5. My girls are amazing (Ann and Elle). And so are my boys (Bob, Brent and Elijah).

And finally...
During my recovery, I was taking a nap with my little grandson sleeping next to me. I woke up first and was just staring at his precious face. I studied his long, slightly curled eyelashes and perfectly formed nose. I could not get over how dear he is and how much I love him. In the stillness of the afternoon, I was soaking up the blessings of Elijah. Then he opened his eyes and looked at me looking at him. He broke into a big smile as the joy crossed his tiny face. If I hadn't been recovering, I would have missed that nap. And that smile that melted my heart. And I would have missed knowing such a deep feeling of love on this side of heaven.

Emergency Surgery - an episode for the memory book

I didn't make it. I went in for blood work on Wednesday and was scheduled to have an ultrasound on Monday. THEN we were going to decide about gall bladder surgery. Logically. Methodically.

But Thursday morning found me writhing in pain and throwing up without end, so off we headed at 1 a.m. to the ER. And, after waiting a miserable two hours for pain medication (two people were in life or death cardiac distress, unfortunately - for them AND for me!), I was rushed off to surgery. Now I have 4 incisions and abdominal soreness, but I'll be better soon. I'm grateful the diseased gall bladder is gone so my liver can heal and the pain will never be back!

When I feel better, I'll write more about my hospital escapade. It was an interesting adventure that ended up with me recovering in a chair after surgery - much to my daughters' chagrin. "Can't my mama get a bed after her operation? For the love....!"

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

To quote another journalist (who is slightly more famous than I am), "no good deed goes unpunished." Clare Booth Luce was apparently certain that the world was evil enough to beget evil - even in return for good. And while I disagree with her pessimistic theology (perhaps from the drugs she took in the 1950's), I have to admit that sometimes - like today - I can relate!

Let me put this in perspective. I've lost 35 lbs. and feel better than I have in years. I've dropped about 4 sizes and have been eating so healthy it's sickening. Literally. Today, I found out that the past 12 days of horrible back pain and throwing up off and on is probably from gallstones. What? My doctor sat down and sort of smirked a little, "Yeah, when you lose a significant amount of weight, we don't really know why, but the bile changes and often forms gallstones. We'll run an ultrasound and if that's what it is, you'll have to have surgery."

Let me get this straight. I have swallowed enough grilled chicken and eggbeaters to last me a lifetime and my reward is surgery? The doctor continued, "But congratulations on losing so much weight. That's great!"

Funny. It doesn't feel great. I think I would have preferred fat with no surgery.

Daddy's Girl

Last night, I was really sick and had weird dreams to go along with my virus. I can explain some of it because my mind was pulling out things from the week and mixing them all together. Ellen just spent 4 days at University of Alabama, so in my dream, I was a student there. My dad had died in a car wreck a couple of years earlier (dream) because I had just been to a funeral of someone who died in a car wreck and my father really is gone (and has been for 20 years). In my dream, my mom told me he didn't really die and she had a surprise for me. I looked, and there stood Dad. He was dressed just like he used to be when he was leaving to go teach at the university... camel-colored sports coat, shirt and tie, dark pants, dress shoes. He looked great and I ran to hug him. My heart was so full and I was thrilled he was back. I could literally feel him holding me and how much he loved me.

Then I woke up. And Dad really was gone. And I laid in bed and felt tears rolling down my cheeks... just like they are now. And I wondered how my heart could be so full of joy and sorrow over Daddy after 20 years. I thought about what a loving father he had been and how I always believed I was his favorite. One day I told my sister that I felt like I was Daddy's girl and she said, "Me too." That's an amazing parenting skill - making each child believe she is the favorite.

Then I thought about Pastor Mark's sermon on Sunday - about getting new bodies in heaven and recognizing people and spending time with people we love. Then I realized that what I feel is only a taste of what I will feel in the next life. I will feel deeper joy and no sorrow. I will feel complete love and give complete love. I will enjoy the love of the Lord in His kingdom and never have to long for anything again. Like seeing my Daddy.

Torture Chamber for A.D.D.

I must have ADD. I can't sit still in a movie without getting bored, so I don't go. I hate to waste time, so I multi-task. I even feel guilty if I sit still doing nothing. I thrive on being productive.

That being said, you can imagine what jury duty does for me. Today, I sat. And sat. And sat. I was crammed into a room with so many people that we could hardly move (special thanks to the court system for propagating the flu and cold viruses in Cobb County, by the way). The rows of chairs were placed so close to each other that when someone wanted out, the whole row had to empty into the aisle. Kind of like being on an airplane - but without the view. Or the cushioned seats. Or the movie.

I'm a networker - a socializer. The woman to my left sat stoically, listening to her ipod and staring straight forward with intensity. I tried to imagine what she could possibly be listening to that would make her so immovable and unsociable! The woman to the right of me sat hunched over her phone, texting everyone in her contact list for hours. I tried to be sure she knew I wasn't peaking at her messages (I tried, but the type was too small), but she made sure by dropping her long hair down over her phone. Subtle.

Knowing myself as I do, I had chosen a seat on the front row by the doorway. I really should say it was almost IN the door like a last minute decision to cram another row in there. I was prepared in case I had to bolt. At least I had the advantage of being entertained by each person who had to come and go to the bathroom.

The highlight of the day was being sworn in by Judge Watson White - who cracked jokes about being age 87 and only assigned really short trials... just in case.

But, I had options to keep myself entertained. There were 5 computers in the back of the room for public use. No, I thought. Major flu virus host. There were magazines in racks on the walls. I was sure every page was covered in germs. I took my own water and book, but I was too disinterested to even try to read. I wrote some advertising copy for a client, but that was complete by 9:15. I had time to write an entire British novel (for those of you not into literature - those are known to be unusually lengthy. I call it "the thud factor". It makes a big sound when you drop it on a table and people think you must be smart for reading it. Thank goodness for Cliff Notes - but how I got through a minor in English Lit is for another blog).

Back to the jury room.

The final blow was receiving a handout asking me if I wanted to donate my big $25 juror fee to a Cobb charity, like the animal shelter. Are you kidding me? You want me to take this torture for free? The dogs and cats in the animal shelter have more room to move than I did - and they get to eat in their space! Sheeesh!

Hey, I'm all for helping animals, but I'm trying to make enough money to send my child to college next year and instead of being out trying to make a consulting fee, I'm sequestered in a hot room with hundreds of people coughing and sniffing. I want my $25! I'm going to need it to pay my doctor's visit deductible.

Learning from the Tears

Tonight was so exciting. For only the second time since August, I got to babysit for my grandson. I couldn't wait for him to get here and when he woke up and saw us, he played in such a joyful way that my heart melted just hearing him laugh. But, that didn't last long. Just a few minutes after the giggling and laughter, I noticed him sitting in Ellen's lap with his bottom lip stuck out and a frown coming over his cherub face. Uh oh. Here it comes...

Yep, the lip launched more than an hour of screaming and fighting the sleep he needed. I did everything. I rocked. He screamed. I put him in a dark room with music and rested beside him, talking softly. He screamed. I walked with him. He screamed. I tried a teether. He screamed. I gave him the pacifier (a misnomer tonight). The pattern continued. I checked his diaper. I gave him something to drink. He was not just crying. He was crying hard - and loudly. My heart broke. I couldn't seem to help him.

As I stood in the dark, swaying back and forth with my precious grandson swaddled in a blanket in my arms, I thought, "No matter what, I love you." And God spoke to my heart quickly and clearly, "That's how I feel about you. Even when you go kicking and screaming because I want you to do something you don't want to do. Even when you cry over something. Even when you don't want to cooperate and aren't acting very sweet and lovable. My love never changes. You are just as precious to Me when you're fussy as when you're laughing. The way you behave has no effect on how I feel."

I think tonight I figured out what unconditional love means. As I gave it, I experienced it.

Easing the Knife Out of My Back

Have you ever been betrayed by a friend? We all have, but this week I experienced it again and it hurt deeper than usual. I didn't see it coming and the surprise of it made the wound deeper. I thought I could talk to someone in confidence, but I couldn't. I thought my friend would value our friendship above work. I thought I was safe with a sister in Christ.

When I told her she betrayed me, she told me I ought to learn something from this experience and I did. I learned that I value relationships more than anything. I value friendships above work and goals and getting ahead. And I value others I care about more than myself. That may sound self-righteous, but it has pitfalls. And maybe I've lost the balance. It means I trust too much and sometimes I care too much. That leaves me vulnerable. Vulnerability can lead to heartaches. It means I can get hurt and even punished. It means I am susceptible to being wrong about people. It means I see things so differently and I may not be relating to someone when I think I am. So maybe I'm not in reality at times. I can misjudge someone or some situation. I forgave her in my heart, but our relationship doesn't feel the same.

Yet I know vulnerability is part of being transparent. Being transparent is part of being real with people. Being real with people is part of relational ministry. Relational ministry is part of transforming lives. And I have to be about that.

I'm still trying to get at the final take-away on this experience. All I know now is that it feels empty and leaves me confused. When that happens, I get quiet. I reflect more. I haven't said a lot lately.

Speak English!

Press 1 for English. Press 2 for Spanish.

Nothing chaps my husband more than that simple message. His pretense is that if you're in America, assume it's English! I tend to agree with him. When we go to Paris, no one asks us to press 1 for French and 2 for English. When we're in Guatemala, everything is in Spanish (granted, there's not a lot of pressing of technological buttons in the squalor of poverty). When we're in the Bahamas, we don't get a choice: King's English or Southern?

I was thinking about why we are so protective of our cultures. Why is it so important to "preserve our heritage"? And then God spoke to my heart and told me something I'd never thought of before. English is a temporary language. So is French. So is Spanish.

When we get to heaven, we will forever live in a blended community. I assume we'll have a spiritual language that everyone will be able to understand. We'll be able to communicate with people of every nation and we'll all sing praises together. We'll all understand each other.

The point is, I think it's time to give up our rights to our heritage and culture. It's passing away. It has no long-term significance. It's time to focus on Jesus' prayer concept: "on earth as it is in heaven". We need to be more kingdom-minded in dreaming about a culture where no one is better than anyone else and everyone is precious in the sight of God.

We need to think about what community transformation really looks like. I suspect it will look a lot more like heaven.

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Judith Viorst understood. I doubt she ever had a day like mine, but her book character - Alexander - is at least a child's version of my day on Thursday.

Let's start by saying that my day began with leaving a sick teenager at home. It's so difficult for a mother to leave a sick child - at any age. Work was stressful and somewhat emotional as I shared with a couple of coworkers the changes coming in my job status. I was swamped with work and my emails, phone calls and meetings mounted up all day. I kept asking myself who was going to take care of all of this when I leave and why doesn't the management think it's important? I started worrying about my coworkers and how much more they'd have to do to take over for me and it hurt my heart. I didn't want to be there and I left early, feeling empty and sad.

When I arrived home and checked the mailbox, I discovered a jury duty summons. Great. Just great. I haven't had to do that in years and now that I need to focus on searching for work, I get to hang out at the courthouse for $25 a day. Just an inconvenience that sort of added to the joy of the day.

Then I headed out to a meeting of senior parents at my daughter's high school where I was blessed with receiving a handout of the power point presentation when I entered the auditorium. Then I got to sit and listen to a teacher recite it to me long after I'd already finished reading through it. Nice. If I could have run, I would have. Note to self: next time, pick up the handout and leave. Immediately.

I bolted out before the last slide was off the screen. I had learned that prom tickets are $100, the annual is $80, we have to pay for cap and gowns, graduation announcements and a host of other things someone with no full time job does not want to hear about. The chorus trip next week is $250 and spring break is coming up with expenses for everyone. I felt discouraged , but I was eager to just head home.

That's when I hit the coyote. Yep. On top of everything else, I am a coyote killer. He darted out in front of my car and hit it so hard that I had to fight the steering wheel to hold the car in the road. I realized that moment could have been a lot worse. And then I got home and found out it was. The stupid coyote knocked off a piece of my car!

Yep - I can relate to Alexander. Some days are certainly better than others. But the truth is that none of these things are life-changing. They're just inconveniences we all face. And we all have to learn to cope with the bumps in the road or we will never be able to handle the big things. When I really think about it, the day wasn't earth-shattering. I just dealt with a sick child, struggled at work, discovered I have jury duty, sat through a boring meeting and killed a coyote.

Racing into the Snow

We so seldom see snow here in the sunny South that Wednesday's beautiful, light snow storm was exciting. One minute it wasn't snowing and the next, huge snow flakes poured down on us, blanketing everything quickly and completely. We stood in the window and watched in awe. The yards were covered, the roofs turned white and everything looked peaceful for a few hours. My kids threw snowballs and we laughed and watched them chase each other on the back deck near the pool. But it was so cold.

Our little dog was crying to get out of his crate. He didn't know the temperature has dropped. He didn't know how wet it would be on his tiny feet. He didn't know the outside world had changed. I opened the door of his crate and he bolted for the back door, so eager to go out. I kept saying, "You just don't know what it's like out there!" Yet he strained to get out.

Immediately, God spoke to my heart. "You're just like that little dog sometime. You're all snug and secure in my safe environment, but you want to go bolting out into something that is not good for you. You have no idea what you'll be facing. You want to change your situation because you think there is something better. And sometimes, it's worse and I have you protected from it. Just wait."

That message to my heart slowed me down. It made me think about my quest for a new job and new security. I sensed God telling me to just stay put awhile. Let Him work. Wait for the sun to shine again. Soon the snow will melt.

Shopping with God

God can't waste anything. It's impossible. He's perfect and waste is a flaw.

That means God is a good shopper. He gets more for the money and He always provides in abundance. When you're faced with financial belt-tightening, it's usually because God wasn't doing the shopping. You were.

I have a friend who used to make a list on the refrigerator if there was something he really wanted. If he still really wanted it after praying about it for 60 days, he would look for a deal. Now THAT will slow you down! It's amazing how many things become unimportant in 60 days. We usually want something different in 60 days. The immediate gratification culture is real.

We're about to go to the Dave Ramsey seminar and while we have listened to his tapes and read his book, we're bracing ourselves for a shift in thinking regarding spending. With my new consulting business expected to provide less income than my full time job did, we need to rethink things anyway. We always feel like we "need" something when in fact, we only "need" food and necessities.

Can we live on less? Can we help others more? Can we ask God to do the shopping? When He tells us to make a purchase, he's always ready to go with us to the store. The rest of the time, He'd just as soon stay home and hang out with us - saving money and investing in something more important.

Coldwater Creek and the Cross

One of the best things about losing weight is losing a size or two. My clothes fit better and I even have some new things. I got a $100 gift certificate from Coldwater Creek for my birthday and waited until after Christmas when their online sale was amazing. Today, I got practically a new wardrobe for $100! And their clothes aren't cheap.

Why do we feel like such great successes when we save a lot of money? Hardly anything gives me such exhileration! I paid $25 for a $100 jacket. Now THAT is exciting! And what's more, it's black houndstooth, the material of choice at University of Alabama (in memory of Bear Bryant's infamous hat - I know, so overboard). So, I got a deal AND I am ready to go visit Elle during football season.

But back to the thrill of the hunt - and the victory of a sale. It occurs to me that salvation is FREE and worth everything. Why don't we feel that sense of excitement over THAT savings (and I do mean SAVE-ings!)? Why don't I call up my friends and neighbors and tell them not to miss THAT bargain? It's the most valuable purchase ever made... Jesus dying on the cross for each of us. That's one deal no one should miss.

Corn Tortillas Changed My Life

You don't understand how deprived I've been. Since the end of October, I've been on a diet and lost 25 pounds (I'd better here a cheer go up here...). The weight loss is the up side, but I've eaten enough grilled chicken and eggbeaters to choke a horse. I've chosen certain veggies, certain fruits, certain protein bars, certain protein shakes and certain milk. I've measured my water intake, consumed volumes of vitamins and supplements with kelp and folic acid. I've measured ounces and teaspoons, bought the right spritzer salad dressing and avoided natural sugars I always considered diet food - like carrots, onions and red grapes. I've kept daily food journals and even taken an "inner diet" psychological test that told me I am a stress eater (big news - they could have paid ME to tell them that).

So you can imagine my joy when I learned something new while meeting with a "fat counselor" recently. I've never seen her before or since so I am convinced this woman was an angel. I walked in for my regular conference and she asked me what I missed most on the diet. I told her I really miss salty things - pretzels, popcorn, chips, crackers. She replied, "Don't you eat salted corn tortillas " What? You mean I can toast a corn tortilla and salt it with my approved Morton's Lite Salt? "You can even spray them with Parkay Spray-on butter and you can have two at a time if you buy the right kind. And you can have them at all three meals."

Did the rapture come because I think I'm in heaven! I didn't know about fat-free spray-on butter and I certainly didn't know about salted tortillas. The counselor went on, "And three mornings a week, you can put low-fat mozzarella cheese on them." You're kidding. I sat there stunned. I felt like a drug addict that had just been told that cocaine won't hurt you. I had to get to Publix, and fast.

Some days are all about gaining spiritual insights and some days are simply about corn tortillas.

I almost lost my way

Sometimes, God is really entertaining. Just a couple of days before I lost my full time management job, I wrote in this blog that God is faithful and I trust Him. And that I was ready to face the new year with that in mind. I'm sure God was smiling and thinking, "You trust me? You're about to lose your job, so we're going to find out if you trust me."

Interestingly, after the initial shock, I have had a peace about the career change. I wish I could tell you that I haven't given my job another thought - "just leavin' it up to God!" - but the truth is, I think about it all of the time. I plan and plot my next move and network and wonder and update my resume. I've tried to figure out how to make enough money to pay for my daughter's college and how I can manipulate finances in my favor. I've even thought of the demands I would make in a new job negotiation.

Then tonight, something hit me while I was praying at our prayer service at church. It was God - and it wasn't a still, small voice. It was His booming move of the Spirit in my soul. He reminded me of something I'd lost sight of, but have always treasured. Work is a ministry. Marketplace ministry is a crucial mission field. I believe that. I have lived it. I have cherished it. So how can I pursue a job when I'm focused on my needs, yet I know the primary objective is "where do you want me to minister now, Lord? What's next?"

After that, someone was praying for me and simply said to me, "Show her what's next, Lord." This person had no idea I had just lost my job. God was speaking to me again. Directly. He knows what I'm going through and He's encouraging me. He's not worried. He knows what's next.

I'm switching gears. I'm going to let God take care of my finances while I focus on finding a new ministry. I'll bet He has one for me....

Where did that come from?

Have you ever said something fairly profound and then wondered where in the world that wisdom came from? It's called revelation knowledge. If you're a believer, God does that in you. Suddenly, He reveals something out of the blue and you blurt it out. It surprises you. And the person you say it to seems amazed at the depth of your insight. But it's not your insight. It's His.

God's insight was revealed to me today as I was talking to a friend about her fears. It occurred to me (supernaturally) that fear often comes from hiding something. When you try to hide who you really are - your fallacies, your mistakes, your anxieties - there is a fear of being "found out". I've realized that pretenses are couched in fear. What freedom comes when you're transparent!

Have you noticed that people who love you don't stop loving you when they discover a flaw? What a relief or no one would love me! So why do we try to be something we're not? The older I get, the less I try. I've begun to adjust to who I am (finally) and I'm hoping others are adjusting to me too. If they aren't, they don't love me. And if they don't love me, I don't have to be concerned about what they think.

It's a burden lifted when we don't have to work hard at covering our tracks, trying to be someone we aren't. And when we know we're still loved.

God is like Holiday Inn

If you're old enough, you remember a great ad campaign for Holiday Inn. I love good ad slogans since I'm an ad writer. "The best surprise is no surprise." Great line. God's like that. Nothing surprises Him. He's just what you'd expect - He's steady, confident, all-knowing, in control and never phased. Nothing throws Him. Nothing pulls Him off course. Nothing deters Him.

I'd like to be like God. Steady, sure, focused and on course. I'm not. That's why a reorganization at my agency this week threw me. My job was shifted from fulltime to parttime consulting. Here I am, needing more security with the cost of college facing us and instead, I get less security. It came from nowhere. It was a decision I didn't expect. And yet (in my true risk-taker style), I'm excited to see how God is going to take care of this situation. What does He have in store for me next? How will my ministry change? How will He provide for our financial needs?

The biggest thing I've learned about life's surprises is not to be surprised (right after my initial shock dies down). I've learned to trust God to know a better way. I've figured out that my problems are really His problems. It's up to Him to solve this. And while, admittedly, I would like it better had I not been surprised, I make a quicker recovery as I get older. Experience with God has shown me that surprises are something God uses to change my course. I should welcome that.