Christmas Bluebirds

I just want you to know that I have seen tons of bluebirds this Christmas. No, unfortunately they weren't the tiny, fast-flying type that catch your eye as they flit through the air. But they were the blessings of a truly special Christmas season, one filled with family and good food and fun times and significance.

And so, here is a list of some of the beautiful "bluebirds" I enjoyed this Christmas:

• A responsible teenaged daughter who is helping take care of 3 dogs down the street while their owners are away. Abby has gotten up every morning on her own to walk down the street to tend to these dogs, most mornings in her pjs and a coat. She has to give one of the dogs a pill at 7:00 am & pm. She wraps the pill in cheese and the dog bites her hand each time he takes the pill. Another one of the dogs likes to dart out the door and jump in the ornamental pond in the backyard a couple of times each day. Subsequently, Abby has to get the dog out of the pond and bathe it. After the dogs have been in the yard for 20-30 minutes she lets them back in to eat. Inevitably they choose to then poop in the house, which of course she cleans up. I'm proud of her. She's been a real trouper about this ordeal!

• A son home from college. I LOVE having my son home. Yes, he sleeps most of the time. We rarely see him before noon, but just knowing he is here is a blessing to me. I miss his dry wit and charming smile. I miss hearing him go on and on about thngs I know nothing of, like calculus and computer science and all things technical. Today I will do some of his laundry and I will love it!

• A husband who insisted that he and the children clean up the dinner dishes, pots, and pans after the big Christmas meal yesterday. HUGE, HUGE blessing to this weary cook.

• Sitting around the dinner table with my small but so complete family. They thrill me.

• Sweet and precious Christmas cards from friends far and close. Many included pictures and/or letters. We enjoy these so much. I often feel very isolated out here in the 48th state. It is good to hear from loved ones at this time of year.

• Going on a spiritual Journey to Bethlehem with my blogger friends on my other blog, Off the Beaten Path. I'm sure there were many days when no one actually read my posts, but writing the posts each day certainly helped me to think more about the meaning of Christmas and our wonderful Redeemer. So thankful for an opportunity to take that spiritual journey.

• We woke up to a beautiful snow one morning this week, can't even remember which one it was now. But snow always completes a Christmas season.

• I've been watching the first season of The Waltons on DVD for the past couple of weeks. I started out watching the first season of Thirty-Something, but found my old addiction, I mean friends, to be too whiny.  No kidding, they're ridiculous! And I used to make sure I had my babies down for a nap each day by 1:00 so I could watch Michael and Hope and Nancy and Elliot and Melissa and Ellen and Gary on Lifetime TV. I guess I was whiny back then too and that's why I liked them so much. But after watching about 6 episodes a couple of weeks ago, I couldn't take any more. I asked my husband to get me The Waltons instead (he has NetFlix!). And I've been so grateful for this not-whiny-at-all family. And if one of them does whine, you know John or Liv don't put up with it!

• I have been a little sentimental lately about FaceBook. That's right, FaceBook. It struck me just the other day how glad I am that this crazy social networking site has allowed me to reconnect with friends all over the world. Most of my FB friends are people who are no longer part of my daily life - friends from high school, college, former churches, extended family relatives or military families who have moved away. I no longer talk to most of these folk on the phone or see them in person. Even if I did live close to them, I probably wouldn't be tightly involved in many of their lives. But FB has allowed me to see what kind of people they have become, a glimpse into their family life, and hear their views on politics and even Jesus. For the most part (probably 99.9%) I have been very delighted at what I've seen. It's so nice to see that so many of my high school classmates are raising their children in godly homes, active in their churches, and worshiping the one true God. I love that most of my friends have the same political views I do. And I love hearing about the little things that fill their days - visiting grandkids, cooking dinner, going on mission trips, going on date nights, taking the family camping, watching the whales, homeschooling, you name it. And it really tickles me when friends who don't even know each other and live in different states are doing remarkably similar things or having the same sentiments about some common, everyday type of event. Amazing.

Precious bluebirds, everyone. I guess it doesn't take much to please me. These are all so simple and ordinary. But lovely blessings all the same.

What are some of the blessings you've enjoyed recently?

Picture This!

They say a picture's worth a thousand words. Actually words are so overrated, it would probably take a lot more than a thousand to express what a good picture can with a single frame. Problem is, my pictures aren't worth two words. I'm not a great photographer.

Here is an example of my picture taking ability and you can see that you wouldn't pay 2 cents, much less 2 words for it.


So if I want a picture that's worth a thousand words or more, I have to go to the professionals. And I've found a great one that I would love to pay a few thousand words for her photos.

I stumbled across a great contest here in Arizona. Jaime Hulsey Photography is offering a free photo session with a CD loaded with photos to some lucky winner. I hope it's me! But if not me, it could be you! Check it out and look over her portfolio while you're at it. You can enter too, thanks to me telling you all about it - in less than a thousand words, mind you!

Our Thespian

I've decided I'm not going to wait until the night I'm watching Abby receive her first Oscar to say, "That's my girl!" I'm going to claim her right now and hope she remembers to mention me during her acceptance speech on that dazzling night.


Our Abigail is quite the actress. Recently she was inducted into Buena High School's local chapter of the International Thespian Society. Each of the 7 inductees had to do a short performance of some kind. A couple of the students played musical instruments, one danced, and four performed monologues. I know I'm biased, supposedly, but Abby really was the best. And that's not to say the other students didn't do well. They all did impressively well. But Abigail somehow managed to even shed a tear in a two minute monologue. How in the world do you get a tear out in two minutes? But she did, and it seemed real and genuine.


We're proud of Abigail's talents, and petrified at the same time. She actually wants to pursue a career in the field of acting, or directing or editing - something to do with drama. That would be a little scary for most parents, especially parents who are trying to raise a godly young woman who will keep herself set apart from the world while treading lightly through it. I'm excited at the prospect that God may have a great plan for her in New York or Hollywood, but I'm daunted by the fact that Satan has plans for her too. Anytime someone tries to make an impact in such a godless portion of our world, a portion that is largely mastered by the deceiver and prince of this world, he is bound to get agitated and do his best to work against her. Lord help our Abby to make her mark without bearing the marks of this world. While we certainly don't claim to know for certain that Abigail will ever make it in the entertainment industry, we have already begun to pray for her protection and her godly influence in the event she does "make it there."

Recently I heard someone say, "Your talents and abilities are your gift from God; what you do with them is your gift to Him." It is simply our hope that Abby will always used her gifts for good and for God. Oh, and to Him be all the glory!

So Past Due!

I probably do not have anyone even reading this blog at this point because I've been so unfaithful in writing it. I have no one to blame but myself. But today I am turning over a new leaf, a pretty green summer leaf that is!

I'm going to try to blog every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at least, this summer. I have got to work some routine into my summer or I'm going to catch a full-blown case of my kids' contagious laziness. I'm determined to be productive. In fact, I need to be productive. I have college and braces to pay for!

Today, I'll begin with a little about Daniel's graduation from high school. He graduated May 21 ( I know, that seems like forever ago now! Like I said, I've been pitiful about blogging!). We had such a great week. Both sets of grandparents drove in from their respective states, Georgia and Texas. The weather threatened rain all week, but no wet stuff ever really materialized. So that simply meant that the temps stayed nice and low - in the 70s and 80s, tops.


James and I got to go to Daniel's dress rehearsal on Wednesday night and take all the pictures we wanted. It was such a neat night. All the parents could just get on the football field and right in there with the grads. The administration just conducted the rehearsal as though we weren't even there and didn't seem fazed by our noisy conversations, flashing cameras, and laughter. I'm so glad we had that opportunity. With over 600 graduates it's impossible for everyone to really see their graduate on the Big Night, so this up-close-and-personal experience made up for all that.

Here's Daniel receiving his parking passes, tickets, and commemorative program in lieu of his diploma on the rehearsal night.


Graduation night we all went to an early dinner at a local Italian restaurant and headed to the stadium. We were there nice and early. Graduation went off without a hitch and we got the boy graduated. But the neatest thing was the big party the grads had at the school afterwards. Project Graduation is sponsored by hundreds of community members and organizations. It's an all-night, drug and alcohol free party at the school with tons of games, food, and prizes. The theme was "It's a Jungle Out There", fitting for graduates, I thought, and they had decorated the whole school in a jungle theme. The grads had poker tournaments, basketball tournaments, BINGO, Guitar Hero, tricycle races, etc. And they all got to choose from hundreds of huge gift baskets that included things like microwaves, bikes, IPods, etcs. They also had huge cash prizes and even airline tickets as door prizes. Daniel had a blast and, of course, slept the entire next day!



The day after graduation we hosted a party for Daniel in our backyard. Lots of friends came to help us celebrate the big event. We had hamburgers and hotdogs. We had spent all day getting ready for the party, with grandparents doing the bulk of the work. They helped us plant flowers, string party lights, clean off the lawn furniture, and prepare the food. Kudos to great parents/grandparents!

Here's our all-grown-up grad with his two grandmothers, Nana and Mammaw.


Here's Abby with Tiffany and Blake.


Notice how we segregated into girls and guys tables/areas! Here's Carlos, J.R., Papa, Mike and Ben.


And some of the girls at the girls table, Abby, Tiffany, Blake and Lilly. Wasn't it a beautifuly evening? And our yard looked so pretty and festive.


Thanks to all our family and friends for helping to make this a great graduation week. And congratulations to Daniel! We're so proud of him!

Not Without Notice Today

Do you ever have days when you feel like you must honestly be invisible? Like no one seems to even see you walk into a room? Or cars pull out in front of you in traffic as though your car were some kind of stealth car or something? Have you ever stood in a circle of friends and felt like the conversation was going on all around you and no one could even hear you when you tried to put in your two cents? Well today was not one of those days for me. In fact I was a little too noticed for my own comfort.

I had gone to Walgreens, because I don't live in a perfect world, to get a large envelop to mail one more book proposal to an agent. I was standing in a line with probably 5 or 6 other people just looking around, minding my own business but kind of minding everyone else's too, when a woman walked in the door and began to walk our way. I kind of caught her eye as she came in the door, but then, out of stranger etiquette, diverted my gaze elsewhere. But as she came closer and began to walk right by me I was surprised to again notice her staring straight at me. As she approached she said, "Hello! How are you doing?" Now I can't possibly convey to you on this blog the inflection in her voice. She spoke not as though she were simply being polite to a stranger, but as though she knew me oh so well. I was quite surprised, but, being raised a friendly Southerner, I smiled back and said, "Hi! I'm fine and you?" to which she replied that she was good too. Then she walked on by. I was a little taken aback by this interchange, but just figured I had encountered an extremely friendly person. Still, that didn't explain why she had been so friendly to me and not the other 5 people in line. Oh well.

Ten minutes later I enter the post office to mail the aforementioned book proposal. Usually our post office is extremely busy, but today I wasn't in line more than a couple of minutes before I heard "Next" from one of the postmen at the desk. I went to his window, handed him my package and said hello. I told him I needed to mail this package and watched as he punched in zip codes, etc. But I also noticed, through my periphery vision, that the customer at the next window was staring at me. She was just turned toward me and looking straight at me. Now I had already noticed this woman as I stood in line and knew that I didn't know her, but now she wouldn't quit staring at me. So I turned toward her to see if indeed she was looking at me or perhaps she had some kind of fixation with the wall just beyond me. Sure enough she was looking at me and as I turned toward her she said, you guessed it, "Hello! How are you doing?" Notice once again the emphasis on you - as though she knows me well and has missed seeing me for some time now. Again I replied with a friendly smile, "I'm great thank you," and then turned back to look after my business, a little more baffled than before. Who are these people? Do I have some kind of dementia problem and not recognize people I'm supposed to know? Why does everyone seem so glad to see me today?

I left the post office and headed straight to my car, flipped down the visor mirror and checked my face to see if I had colored paint on me or something. Nope. I found no reason for everyone to be so friendly and familiar with me. Strange.

Well that's my story. I tell you this mainly because it was freaky and because much more often I feel invisible more than highly noticeable. But today I was certainly noticed and I have no idea why. Maybe these women go to my church and they recognized me but I didn't know them. That happens sometimes, but not usually twice within 10 minutes. Whether they really knew me or not, they were surely friendly. Can't fault anyone for that. Maybe I need to freak a few people out myself tomorrow with extreme friendliness. I think I'll do that. Join me?

A Shameless Plea for Help

Guess what? I'm currently 2nd place in a contest I didn't even know I was entered in! I recently published my new Bible study The View From My Front Porch on Lulu.com so that other women's Bible study teachers could purchase it for their groups. I had some requests and wanted to make it accessible while I was still searching for a reputable publishing house to pick it up (hopefully!). Turns out my sales on Lulu.com are pretty good and I'm in the running for some pretty amazing cash prizes!

I've already had a few friends request that they be able to teach the book to their study groups and they have already purchased theirs. Since then I sent out a letter to some friends and acquaintances to make them aware of the book as well. I think a few of those people have made purchases as well. Still, to win the contest, I'm sure I need more sales. If you're reading this blog - all 4 of you - and you'd like to check out my " 2nd place best seller" simply follow this link. You should end up at the preview page for my book. If not, just go to lulu.com and put my name in the search engine and you'll be directed to it. The cost of the book is $15, but if you purchase 25 or more there is a noticeable discount. It really is a great study for groups. I have included discussion questions at the end of each chapter and there is a lot to talk about! This is current stuff... worldviews.... biblical womanhood. I got great reviews from the 50+ women at my church who completed the study. I hope you'll like it too!

The View From My Front Porch at lulu.com

I love you more than chocolate biscuits if you buy one or more! Actually I won't even know if you order or not. But if you do, be sure to let me know what you think!

Soaring With A Friend

This past week my friend Kim came for a visit and, as usual, we had a blast. We ate well, laughed well, and enjoyed each other's company quite well. We're a great match in friendships and always have a good time together, but one of my favorite things we do together is simply remind each other that we are "quite capable." We both enjoy pushing the envelop a little and awakening the parts of ourselves that sometimes get pushed to the background in the humdrum of life. I'll try to explain a little better.

When you get into your 40s and life is mostly about making ends meets, raising your kids, and fulfilling obligations, I think sometimes women forget that they once were young girls with hopes and dreams and ambitions. We tend to quiet our own passions and dreams so we can help the others in our lives, namely our husbands and children, excel. And we do so gladly. More than anything is this world I love helping my family become all they can be. I want my husband and my children to soar, to succeed. And I am thrilled for them when they do. But sometimes, in my effort to help them prepare, press on, be all they can be, and celebrate their accomplishments, I forget that I too can soar! I think it's a good thing for every woman to be reminded occasionally that she too can try something new, accomplish something grand, go somewhere different, and stand on her own two feet. I'm not advocating independence to the point of avoiding duties or shirking responsibilities. And I'm certainly not encouraging women to strike out on their own to the degree that they leave their loved ones in their dust! I'm just saying it's good to remember the girl inside occasionally and let her lead the way a little at the appropriate time.

Kim and I love trying new things, going new places. We try to pack a little adventure into every visit. We've backpacked a bit of the Appalachian Trail with my equally adventurous Aunt Ida and included a day hike in every trip Kim has made to Arizona. This time Kim decided we needed to do more than just a day hike. I was a little hesitant at first, but she was persistent and I'm so glad she was.

Kim and I struck out on our own Thursday morning with our backpacking gear and a map of the Madeira Canyon area of the Coronada National Forest. We had packed our food, our sleeping bags and tent, and plenty of water. We were on an adventure. We got a little lost on the scenic route we drove to the canyon, but eventually (after traveling about 20 miles on a winding, mountainous, dirt road through open range with cattle and all) we got to our destination. It was beautiful - so worth the trip.

We set up our tent and headed for the trailhead. After about a 2 1/2 hour hike upwards, we reached the junction of Old Baldy Trail and Super Trail (the one we were on). We hiked a little further up towards the top of Mt. Wrightson, but realized time would not allow us to finish the hike before sunset if we hiked all the way to the top, so we headed down. It was a great hike - invigorating and challenging, beautiful too.

Kim checking for text messages in the middle of the hike.

That evening we watched a DVD of King of Queens and Mary Tyler Moore on Kim's portable DVD player at our campsite table. We also built our first fire and feared that it was going to burn the entire Coronada National Forest down. But within a few minutes it had settled down to a pleasant glow. By eight o'clock we climbed into our tent and prepared to hear little critters scratching at the thin tent walls during the night. They never did. We slept on the very hard ground and woke up aching all over, but that didn't keep us from taking another 2 hour hike that morning. We broke camp and headed for warm showers and restaurant food!

Kim and I are not "he women." We both like to have our nails done, shop for new purses, and wear make up and perfume. But we love the outdoors and we love being active. We love challenges and we love trying new things. And I always feel better about who I am and what I can do after Kim and I have pushed the envelop a little. She pushes me forward and I do the same for her. She's one of the main persons who pushed me to go to a writers' conference and begin seriously querrying magazines about articles. And I'm one of the main persons who has encouraged her to work on her master's degree in counseling. We like to think we push each other to be the best we can be.

If you're a woman in the middle of life, raising kids, taking care of a home, bringing home a paycheck and fulfilling a dozen other obligations, make sure you also take time to remember your individual dreams and go for one or two of them occasionally. Don't neglect your husband or your children to feed your own ego or go your own way, but make the necessary arrangements (stock the freezer with good frozen dinners you never let them have otherwise!), grab a good friend (one that lifts you up to where you should be!), and take a day or two to realize a dream that has faded into the recesses of your memory. Dust that dream off, make it happen, and enjoy the feeling of your own wings as they cause YOU to soar!

All Is Not Lost

Abby lost the election. I'm sad, she's sad, everyone who loves her is sad. She would have made an excellent class president and would have received the title with humility and grace. But it didn't happen. Put bluntly, she lost.

But all is not lost. Abby admits freely that she made some new friends this week. She put herself out on a limb for a noble cause and I imagine she will stay out on that limb. She's still on the Student Council (no small feat in itself - you have to go through an extensive application process and few are chosen) and I know she will make a great contribution to her school through her part on that council. She'll also continue to make new friends, offer leadership where it is needed, and share a positive attitude in everything she participates in. Abby has learned the mechanics of campaigning, the agony of losing, and the grace needed to lose well. She shed a few tears and said a few demeaning things about herself, but she is fine today. She has other irons in the fire and she is moving on to tending them well.

Abby's family is so very proud of her. Her dad and I, her big brother, her grandparents, and many friends were rooting her on. We share her grief, but we're still rooting her on. We'll always believe in Abby whether others recognize her greatness or not. We're her fans. And one day when she sits in Los Angeles, California, waiting to hear her name called for an Oscar, we'll still be rooting her on. And whether she wins that night or not, we'll think she deserves it.

Abby lost an election, but she's really quite a winner. She has so many people who love her and believe in her, she has great potential and talent, and she has a winning attitude - even about losing. Indeed little has been lost and a great deal has been gained.

They're Just Shoes - Aren't They?

Big boo boo! I cleaned my son's Converse All Star high tops this morning! Now I didn't put them in the washer or anything. We learned that lesson the hard way about a year ago. The pair we ran through the washer and dryer never were the same again. So I wouldn't repeat that mistake again to save my life. But I just cleaned the shoes up a little. It occurred to me that if that little Mr. Clean bar that we use on our walls get scuff marks off walls so well, it would certainly remove the same scuff marks from the toes of his sneakers and the white trim around the edges of the shoes. I didn't touch the black high top canvas fabric. And guess what? That little magic square does a pretty good job of removing the black marks from the rubber parts of the shoe. By the time I had finished with them, those shoes looked mighty fine.

But I found out I'd made a huge mistake when I told my son, nonchalantly, that I had cleaned up his shoes for him. (He was having some portraits made in which his shoes just might show, so I had tidied them up for him.) Suddenly he turned into the Incredible Hulk. His eyes grew large and intense, the muscles all over his body tensed up and doubled in size and I think he even turned a little green. Now this Incredible Hulk didn't throw anything or lunge at me, fortunately, but he did growl! To skip over the dramatics that I experienced for the next 30 minutes and get straight to the point, suffice it to say that Daniel was greatly disappointed in me for cleaning his shoes.

Turns out, Daniel likes for his shoes to be dirty, scuffed up. And somehow those scuff marks, according to Daniel, are directly linked to his persona, his identity, his history, and, in short, his essence. Go figure. I had no idea. Just so you can better understand how traumatic an event this was for Daniel, let me give you a play by play of a snippet of the conversation.

Daniel: It'll take weeks to get those scuff marks back! I can't believe they're gone. I hiked mountains, worked at Target, and walked the halls of Buena to get those marks. They're a part of me!

Kay: Daniel, I'm sure you'll have them scuffed up again in a couple of days. Just take the shoes and wipe the bottom of one across the toes of the other!

Daniel: I can't believe you'd even say that! You're trivializing those marks!

Kay: I just thought you'd want them cleaned up for the pictures...so you'll look nice.

Daniel: That's it! You don't want a picture of the real me; you want one of me with shoes that aren't even mine! You don't even like me.

Kay: (pause to figure out how we got here...) Daniel, I love you and thought I was doing you a favor. I just wanted you to be wearing clean shoes, so I thought that rather than make you wear some other shoes, I'd clean up your favorites so you could wear them. I promise you my intentions were good.

Well, I won't give you all the details of this crazy conversation. But you can surely see that we were talking from two completely different perspectives. I thought I had done a good deed and Daniel thought I was assaulted his essence!

Here's the thing I learned. By the way, my son probably doesn't think I learned anything from this. To hear him talk, I'm just the mean mama who looks for ways to ruin his day. But honestly, oh well, you've heard my side already...

Here's the thing I learned. (I'll try not to get sidetracked this time!) It's amazing the things we tie our identity to. For my son, his shoes speak volumes about him. He wears Converse high tops because he likes the old-fashioned style of them. But he also wants them to look lived in. That's important to him. For me, my jewelry is something that I think kind of identifies me. I want only silver and I like it to be kind of big and chunky. My silver charm bracelet is like the story of my life in miniatures. If someone were to try to "help me out" by turning all of my silver jewelry into more costly gold, I'd freak out too. I know gold is more valuable, but I don't want gold. I want silver. It's who I am.

Turns out, for most of us I think, the little things in our lives say a lot about us, or so we'd like to think they do. We like certain colors, textures, logos, and styles and we choose to wear, drive, carry, and live in them because we want the world at large to know who we are. We feel that in some small way even the perfume we put on or the color of our nails reveals something about the person within. And maybe it does.

At any rate, whether you can identify with this theory or not, I know my son can. And right now that is all that matters. I'm proud of who my son is - bright, witty, caring, godly, and full of unbridled potential. His Converse All Stars may not say all that, but I know that's who he is. While I'm still his mama and will continue to insist on cleanliness, order, and good manners, if he wants to keep his sneakers scuffed up, so be it. After all, they're just shoes. Right?

Daniel and his beloved Converse All Stars gathering scuff marks on the trail.

Good Shooting!

Well, Abby and I began our four year tradition of registering her for high school this Monday. Other than standing in long lines with hundreds of other newbies and their newbie parents, the day was fairly uneventful. She got what appears to be a great schedule and we didn't have to pull a "Daniel" and wait in line to beg a counselor for a schedule change. What a relief! The only snag that day was one we had already anticipated. The school nurse confirmed that Abby had to have a shot before she could go to school.

So on Tuesday I sent James and Abby out the door bright and early to get her shot at the county health department. Meanwhile, I headed to the next town over to get my hair cut. Unfortunately James and Abby forgot to take her shot records with them and by the time they came home and returned to the shot clinic, the line was too long and she couldn't get her shot that morning. You know what that means. I had to take her back in the afternoon.

Now the reason I sent James with Abby in the first place is that she doesn't do very well with shots and I thought she might do better for him than for me. Now my plan was foiled. Abby and I headed off for the afternoon shot clinic a little after 12:00. The clinic didn't begin until 1:00, but I had a sneaking suspicion that we needed to get there early. Sure enough, they put out the numbers for the clinic at 12:30 and they were gone by 12:35. We got number 6 and continued to wait among all the other restless kids and tired parents. I decided the wait was far worse than any shot could be, but who was I to decide this? Abby was the one facing the needle.

When they called our number I had to take some completed forms and Abby's shot record to the front desk. This is where I got the bad news. Abby needed not one, but two shots. In fact, they highly suggested two more shots for a total of four. Sorry, but I know my daughter and I knew there was no way she could endure four shots after sitting there for an hour and a half. She might get up and storm out when I told her she needed two, in fact! But, alas, she didn't. She took the news like a trooper and we continued to wait.

Now I get to the real point of my story. You see Abigail desperately hates needles. She doesn't just dislike the pain. She can't stand the thought of the needle going into her skin. She has major, major problems with shots and blood tests. The only thing I can liken this fear to is my own dislike of possums. Yes, you read correctly, possums. I can't stand possums. Of course I am not required by law to go anywhere near a possum on a regular basis, so I don't have to deal with my fear very much. But if someone did require me to sit down and hold two possums for even a few seconds, I am sure I would behave much the same way Abby did when she had to sit down for two shots. I would try to beg off, whimper, whine, and shake. That's exactly what Abby did. She tried to be brave, bless her heart, but she just had a terrible time of it.

That was the one downside, I figured, to taking her to a crowded public health clinic for her shots. Would the nurses be frazzled, impatient, and even mean? You know the typical caricature of a public health nurse? I was a little concerned. But guess what? Turns out two of the nicest nurses I've ever met gave Abby her shots. (That's right, I said two. Though technically the second one didn't have to do anything. She just popped in, I assume, because she could hear the tears and whining and knew something was up. She just talked to us and tried to distract Abby a little.) As a mom, I was so grateful for nice, caring, professional, and empathetic public health care nurses. Who would have thought? Abby took far more than her allotted time to receive her shots, but the nurses didn't seem bothered by that at all. Even when I apologized for taking so much time and tried to hurry Abigail along, they hushed me and assured Abby that she could take as long as she needed. I felt sorry for all the folks still in the waiting room, but I felt so grateful for two nurses who were completely focused on helping my daughter work through her fears. What a blessing.

Just goes to show you, blessings can pop up in the most unexpected places. In fact, that's what makes them blessings to begin with, I suppose. We left that day thankful that Abigail doesn't have to have another shot for 10 more years, unless we opt for the other two optional shots they recommended. I'd kind of like for her to get them, but right now we've done all the shots we can handle. (Before you write me a comment telling me I should get her those shots, consider whether you're willing to go with my extremely needle-phobic daughter to get them! I'm telling you, it will wear you out!) We ended the day with a trip to Starbucks (whatever happened to ice cream?) and headed home for naps. Blessing, yes. But very stressful still!

Eggplant Results

Well, that lady's eggplant must have been squashed! The digital imaging may be better for giving a more accurate picture, but it is no more comfortable. However, my hat is off to the folks at our hospital's mammography center. They were polite, gentle, and fast. I was in and out before I was even supposed to be in! And I left with deodorant on because they had little complimentary deodorant wipes to use after you had your test. Thank you. That may be about the worst thing about eggplant day, not wearing deodorant or perfume or lotion prior to the screening.

By the way, my screening was perfectly normal and I am celebrating good health today!

Precious Grace

Today I had to grovel. Is that how you spell it? I'm not sure, but I did it. I figuratively got down on my hands and knees and begged for a huge favor. And trust me, only a desperate and extremely loving mom would do such a thing when her son is the one who should have been groveling.

Daniel missed the deadline for registering for his all important AP Music Theory test. I was livid. He certainly had plenty of notice, according to the counselor who was the object of my groveling. I do not in any way hold this woman responsible for Daniel's irresponsible behavior (and I told her so at least a dozen times!). But I'm a mom who wants good for her son and so I begged for her to show a little grace. After two phone calls, getting choked up several times, and finally expressing that "my son is very bright, at the top of his Music Theory class, and he is not only trying to get in to college; he is trying to get scholarships...because I can't afford to pay for it myself..." the wonderful woman on the other end of the line showed a little mercy.

She took my number and promised to call me back within 30 minutes. I have no idea what she did during those 30 minutes, but I attribute that precious time to her putting a little grace on the table. She owed us nothing, but she got off the phone and went to bat for me and my son. She called me back in less than the 30 minutes and offered to let Daniel sign up for the test if he got his money in first thing in the morning. I thanked and praised and adored her over and over. She gave me a lecture about how parents have to let their children go and no one is going to extend deadlines for him in the real world... and I just listened with humility. That's hard for me, but that's how grace is accepted - humbly.

This all serves as a huge reminder to me of the grace we are shown over and over by our precious Savior. We don't even have to gravel; we just have to come to Him with a recognition of our need for a little grace and accept it humbly. Amazing. In fact, just recently I made the off the cuff remark that certain Christian songs like Amazing Grace are over done. In fact, if you'll notice, it's true that most TV shows portray churches and Christian groups singing Amazing Grace because I suppose it's the only hymn the producers know. That still irks me a little, but I take back what I said. You can never "over do" Amazing Grace. After all, grace is always amazing - whether it comes from a school counselor showing an irresponsible student a little mercy or whether it shows up in the beautiful words, "You're forgiven." Grace should amaze the recipient every time.

I don't know if Daniel's counselor is a Christian, but somehow God used her to hand me the gift of grace today. Not only that, her gift has inspired me to show a little grace to others as well. After all, we're all quite irresponsible when you get right down to it. And only a little grace can fix some of our irresponsible mistakes. Thank God for grace.

A Blast Through the Past

Friday night the women's ministry of our church hosted a spectacular event called "A Journey Through the Decades." It was a real hit, so I want to share it with you, gentle reader.

We had over 100 ladies ranging in age from 22 to 96 gather for a fun evening of reminiscing over the decades of our lives and sharing a delicious meal. All the ladies sat at tables specified for their birth decade. For instance, I sat at one of four tables for ladies born in the 1960s. Our four tables were decorated with tie-dyed fabric and one of the icons from the 60s, the bright yellow smiley face. We were given the option of dressing in the fashions of our decade and several of the ladies born in the 60s wore peasant blouses, love beads, mod pants, head bands, and go-go boots. We were a scream!

We had designated tables for ladies born in each decade from 1910 to 1980. The earlier decade tables were mostly decorated with antiques and photos, wartime memorabilia, and pretty laces. The 50s donned an old-fashioned record player, LPs, and a hilarious beehive wig. The 70s tables displayed album covers from that decade and lava lamps. And the 80s centerpieces were collections of McDonald's Happy Meal toys and other bright colored memorabilia from that decade.

The "costumes" were lively and hilarious. Many did an excellent job of typifying the colors, hairstyles, shoes, and accessories of their decade. The funny thing is, many of the "costumes" were actually retro clothing that is fashionable even today!

We had a delicious pasta meal prepared by our youth minister, Dennis Houston, and his crew. We topped it off with a variety of cheesecakes. After dinner we took a stroll down memory lane with trivia questions from each decade and decade-appropriate prizes for the best costumes from each time period. Then came the highlight of the night.

Several of our oldest ladies had agreed to be interviewed about how God had been faithful to them through the decades of their lives. One hundred ladies listened with awe and appreciation as beautiful women in their 80s and 90s told of how God had walked them through victories and losses in their lives. They were absolutely splendid. What a testimony for the younger women in our church! We so rarely slow down long enough to hear anyone else's story, much less the stories of those who are decades older than us. We may even begin to think that what they have to say would be irrelevant to us. Shame on us. These lovely ladies have so much to offer.

The thing about this particular event is, besides be beautifully decorated and fun, it provided our women an opportunity to "get together" like never before. While we sat, ate, and visited mostly with women our own ages, we gained an appreciation for the women older and younger than ourselves. We saw them grouped in their distinct generations, remembered the world as it was when they were born, and walked away feeling a little more connected because, after all, we're all women. When you consider the world the women of the 10s and 20s were born into and the decades they have traveled through as they grew up, married, and raised their families, and then compare that life to the lives led by our ladies born in the 80s, you appreciate the different vantage points from which we assess life. You see that each generation would only logically have different perspectives, dreams, and, yes, hang-ups. But you also see that each generation is valuable, strong, beautiful and important to the next generations. We all have a story, shaded by our generation and the world as we have known it, but unique to us individually.

Enough of my pontificating! I want you to see how fun this event was! Enjoy the pics and let me know what you think. I'm including a few here and a slide show over to the right. If you're interested in hosting an event like this, let me know and I can provide more details.


Me in my retro 60s coat I bought at Dillards just last week for my birthday.


Stephanie interviews Vi and Evelyn, two of our oldest ladies. They were a hoot!


Girls of the 80s.


Stephanie (70s), Me (60s) & Dawn (70s)


Abby was born in the 90s but digs the 70s.


Amira decorated the 60s tables.


Jessica is a child of the 80s.


Katie sports the beehive wig that served as a centerpiece for a 50s table.

I'm Starving!

Just thought everyone should know that I am starving! Like most Americans in the month of February, I am trying to lose a few pounds before spring. I've actually never tried quite as hard as I am right now. Usually I just pump up my exercise efforts a little bit, but continue to eat whatever I darn please. Not this time. This time I've really cut back on eating. I'm watching my fat and calorie intake and increasing my fiber, protein, and calcium intakes. Meanwhile, I am walking really fast most every day I possibly can. I'm starving! Did I tell you that already? (No, I'm not literally starving and you don't need to worry that I'm not eating enough. That has never been a problem with me. I'm eating every calorie I'm allowed, believe me!)

So today the greatest blessings to me seem to be things like mealtime, legal snacks, bedtime, and slightly looser waistbands. I'm thrilled with things like tomato soup, crystal light, double fiber bread, coffee with fat-free creamer, and fruit. I'm starving!

Funny thing is that I haven't really craved the foods that I can't have - chocolate, cake, cookies, cheese, etc. (Have you noticed that you can't eat anything that starts with a C when dieting? - Cake, Cookies, Cheese, Creamed Potatoes, Canelloni, Custard!) Sure I'd love to have some of those. But what I crave is simply more of what I can have - more skim milk, more salad, more fiber rich bagels, more yogurt, etc. Interesting. That makes me think of another possibility. Could it be that if we put ourselves on a steady and healthy diet of God's Word, prayer, meditation, worship, and ministry, that we would also crave more of those wonderful things, instead of craving the unhealthy things of this world - TV shows, silly novels, clothes, beauty products, etc.? I have a feeling a steady diet of godliness breeds a greater desire for godliness. Why don't we all give it a try and see what happens. Our waist bands may not shrink any, but I bet we'll all be able to say with a holy shout, "I'm starving!" and God will smile, nod His head and say, "Now that's My kind of diet!" And then He'll gladly give us our daily bread. Fortunately we can have all of that kind of bread we want and never gain a pound. What a blessing!

Hey, I'm starving!

No Plain Jane

Tonight Abby and I watched a wonderful Jane Austen movie on Masterpiece Theater. The movie was based on Austen's Persuasion, a powerful story of the battle between love and external influences. I found it hard to believe the producers could do justice to one of Austen's novels in just 1 1/2 hours when it took a whole series some years ago to tell the story of Pride and Prejudice. However, I was quite pleased with the results. The movie was beautiful and stuck close to the author's intent.

The amazing thing is that Austen, a woman who never married, lived a rather sheltered life, and died in her early 40s could have written with such keen perception and an unparalleled grasp of human nature. While her books often depict characters who are shallow and petty, Austen herself must have been extremely thoughtful, imaginative, and deep. Reading her books or watching the movies based on them gives you the opportunity to do far more than see how people lived in the late 1700s to early 1800s. It gives you a glimpse into their minds, some provocatively deep and others pitifully vain and empty. How did she do that?

Amazingly Jane Austen never enjoyed her own success. Unless she has a window from heaven, she has no idea of her fame. Her books continue to be read with fervor and appreciation hundreds of years after she has passed on from a seemingly insignificant life. That makes me wonder about the impact we are making on this earth now. Could it be that some of us are accomplishing far more than we could know at this point? Could it be that we are raising children who will be leaders, inventors, teachers, preachers, or scientists of unique stature? Or perhaps we are writing words that will one day touch a heart and the next touch a nation. Maybe we are building buildings, chartering organizations, or educating students that will continue to make a great mark on the future. Who knows?

This one thing I do know: we leave a print behind. Whether that print be small and almost unnoticeable, huge and hard-to-miss, or somewhat ordinary but unique all the same, we leave our mark on this world. Some of us leave more positive marks behind while others leave scars. A few of us set out to make a specific mark, but most of us just leave prints behind somewhat accidentally, like the fingerprints on my sliding glass door. Still they are marks.

Considering that you have no way of knowing what lasting impact you may be making on this world today, I encourage you to at least leave a holy mark - a mark of godliness in an ungodly world. May you and I determine to leave no marks behind that will cause pain or embarrassment, but only marks of love, kindness, grace, hope, and truth. And then, like Jane Austen, we may have the opportunity to inspire the generations to come with the simple things we did to the glory of God.

P.S. check out the rest of the Masterpiece Theater productions of the Jane Austen works at http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/
They run through April 6th and are well worth watching.

Come on! Ring that bell!

I rang that bell yesterday! You know the one. The Salvation Army bell! Here where I live, the Salvation Army was looking for volunteers to ring the bell outside of stores during the Christmas season. Since I don't have much money to give, I thought I could certainly donate my time. Yesterday was the second time I've rung the bell. I rang it two weeks ago in front of Dillard's department store and yesterday I rang in front of Fry's grocery store. Let me tell you a few things I learned while ringing in front of Fry's yesterday.

People are very generous. Despite the doom and gloom reports by the media about the economy and the lack of change in people's pockets, people are still willing to give what they have. I don't know the exact ratio of people who gave to people who walked by yesterday, but I do know that my kettle was pretty full by the end of my three hour shift. I was pleasantly surprised at people's generosity.

People are also quite receptive to a "Merry Christmas!" Being at the Salvation Army kettle gives you the built-in privilege of saying a hearty "Merry Christmas!" with no apologies needed. The SA has already acquired permission to be in front of the store, so the ringer has the right to wish passersby a merry Christmas and even say, "God bless you!" I did both. And no one looked the least bit offended. And this is in Arizona, mind you. Not the Bible belt. In fact, many people looked me right in the eye and said something like, "Merry Christmas to you. None of that 'Happy Holidays' for me!" Some even wished me a blessed Christmas. Good for them!

One last rather sad observation. There are a lot of people out there who have a really hard time getting around. Hear my heart on this one. I have often wondered why in the world we need so many handicapped parking spaces. Like many of you, I have often scoffed at the number of people riding around stores in little carts with baskets. Couldn't most of these people just get up and walk around the store like most of us? Aren't many of them just plain lazy? You know what? They're not lazy. They're hurting and struggling.

As I stood at the entrance of Fry's for three hours yesterday I saw so many people come through the doors who were struggling just to stand up and put one foot in front of another. Every time I turned around there was someone either using a cane and barely making it, using crutches and obviously struggling, or moving so painfully slow that it made me hurt just watching them. There are a lot of people out there who obviously have a hard time just getting up and getting around each day. I was amazed and grieved. I could tell that the circumstances were different for each person. Some had obvious injuries, some had physical defects or handicaps, some were very old and time had robbed them of strength and flexibility, some were very overweight (but which came first, the handicap or the weight gain I do not presume to know), and some were a mystery, but obviously struggling all the same. I kid you not, for every 5-8 people who came in with good mobility there was another person who struggled to walk or move about.

And here's one more thing you need to know. The clear majority of those people walked into Fry's. They did not opt for a motorized cart. They moved slowly and laboriously, but they walked. They used canes or crutches or leaned heavily on a grocery cart, but they walked. Bless their hearts and their aching bones, joints, or muscles. A few did use carts, but after seeing so much struggling going on, I was thankful for those carts and thankful those people could use them to go in the store and do their shopping. I have to tell you, I've had a complete heart change on this issue. My eyes were open to a struggle that I had no idea was shared by so many. After standing at Fry's for three hours my legs ached and I was ready to sit down. But I was so glad I could stand and I could walk. By the looks of things, mobility is something none of us should take for granted. It's a huge blessing. Take it from me, you need to thank God for those legs of yours. There are a lot of people who would if they could!

The Voice in My Ear

Last night my church choir finished cutting our second Christmas CD. Until last year I had never been a part of any kind of audio recording session. It is a fascinating and invigorating process. It is also rather tedious, but the results are awesome.

When we record the music, we use a process the sound engineer called "punching in." That means that what you hear when you listen to the CD is actually the choir's gazillion different attempts to sing the song, all edited and spliced and mashed together! Here's how it works:

Everyone in the choir has their own transistor radios tuned to a specific FM frequency. We're all positioned in the choir loft in the sanctuary and the engineer is in the choir room behind us with all of this fancy smancy equipment. He has positioned a few high powered microphones and a video recorder in front of us so he can capture our sound and see what we're up to. When it's time to sing, the music comes to us via our transistor radios. For optimal listening and blending, we have one ear phone on and one off. The music comes only through our headphones; the sanctuary is completely quiet, other than our voices. We sing along with the music until he stops us, tells us what all we need to do differently (better cut-offs, better attacks, better pronunciation, etc.), and tells us where we'll start again. He also tells us where we'll "punch in." That's the point in the music from which he is actually trying to record a good take. He's giving us all these directions through our radios. We don't actually see him. We just hear him through one headphone speaker. The result is that he sounds like he is in your head. So the conversation in your head may go something like this:

Music: la, la, la, dee dah!
Choir: La, la, la, dee, dah!

Suddenly the music stops.

Male voice in my head: Choir, we're going to stop right there for now. You are doing a great job! That's some good singing. From those two pages, we're going to keep measures 72 and 73 (For those of you who are not musicians, 2 measures is not much - usually a couple of words!). Men I need you to smile more at measure 71 (that's musician speak for 'you're going flat there'). Everyone watch your cut offs at measures 68, 70, and 74. There's also a soprano who sounds angry on the crescendo in measure 70. And we have a tenor with a hang over in measure 74. We're going to start again at measure 58 and we're going to punch in at 62.

Music: la, la, la, dee, dah!

Male voice in my head: Choir, sing along!

Choir: la, la, dee, la, dee, dah!

Music stops.

Male voice in my head: Choir that was great! You did measures 68-71 great that time and since you just repeat that at measure 73-76 we're just going to cut and paste 68-71 on top of 73-76! Give me just a minute to edit that in! (This is where the engineer does his magic and earns his big bucks!) Okay! Let's do all that over again; we still need to get the cut offs on 78 and 80!

And so the process goes. Let me just tell you, if you haven't already figured this out, this whole process does some strange things to your head. Hearing a male voice in my female head telling me what I've done well, what I need to do better, and what I'm going to do next is a little unnerving! It's as though he has crawled in my head, plopped down in the commander's chair and taken over. I want to please this voice and heed it's directions. It has unusual power over me.

Can you imagine what it would be like if all of life were somewhat like this? What if we could hear the Holy Spirit as clearly as I can hear Mark (that's our sound engineer's name) in my left ear? What if I were to hear Him say something like this:

Holy Spirit: Kay, that was great the way you offered to fix your husband a sandwich and bring him a bottled water. You were really kind when you told him what a good job he's doing in the yard. But right after that you complained about how long this yard work is taking. You sounded a little harsh. You need to work on your "cut offs." Why don't you go back outside and try that whole scene again. This time a little softer too. We'll "punch in" right after you offer the sandwich and give the compliment.

Of course, to me, the greatest benefit would come if the Holy Spirit could also do a little cutting and pasting so I could get a little more mileage out of the few things I do well! It'd be nice if he would say something like:

Holy Spirit: Kay, it's time to fix dinner for you family. Now yesterday you did such a good job of preparing a tasty and nutritious meal. And you seemed to really care about making the meal time special for your kids and husband. But today I see you pulling out the wieners and buns. Tell you what, you work on your attitude and I'll just cut and paste yesterday's meal into today. While we're at it, I'll also cut and paste all the laundry you did yesterday too. Now give me just a minute to edit all this in.

Kay: Thanks Holy Spirit! I feel my attitude improving already!

Unfortunately it doesn't work that way! But here's one thing I think we all might be missing out on that does indeed happen. God does speak to us. He speaks to us loud and clear quite often. He speaks to us through His Word. He speaks to us through nature. He speaks to us through other people. And, yes, I believe He even occasionally speaks to us through a still, small voice that is almost audible.

Perhaps the problem is not that He doesn't speak to us; the problem is we're not listening. I imagine if I walked through a day or two with Mark's voice in my left ear, I would soon learn to "tune him out." Mark is extremely pleasant and very good at sandwiching every bit of constructive criticism between a couple of compliments or encouraging words, but still... Who wants to let someone else call the shots for very long? Our two recording sessions were four hours each and at the end of those sessions I was tired of listening to Mark! In fact, it was tempting at times just to turn off my radio so I wouldn't even have to hear him. Could it be that we sometimes, maybe even often, do that with the Holy Spirit? He speaks to our hearts, but we've tuned Him out or even turned Him off?

I think the remedy to this problem is to realize what a precious gift the Holy Spirit is. Only occasionally did the Holy Spirit take up residence in the lives of Old Testament believers. Most of our OT heroes had to walk by faith without the assistance of the ever-present Holy Spirit. Wow! But we have been given the very Spirit of God to teach us, pray for us, speak to us, lead and guide us, comfort us, and convict us. What a treasure!

Today I'm thanking God for sending His Spirit to fill and lead me. I'm thanking Him for the work He does in my life even when it must be like pulling teeth at times. I'm thanking Him for speaking to me and I'm promising to tune in and listen better.

One more thing. Mark, our sound engineer, didn't waste any time speaking just to be heard. He was trying to help us produce a quality music CD that we can be happy with. He didn't sing a note himself, but he was guiding, instructing, and encouraging us so that we would sing our very best. When we would obey his directions, he could take the sounds we produced and put them together to make a masterpiece that we could not have made on our own. But when we clung to old patterns, didn't heed his instructions, and got sloppy, we gave him nothing to work with. If we had done that enough, I imagine even good-natured Mark would have just given in and let us produce a less-than-acceptable CD. That would have been a shame.

When God speaks to us, he doesn't just speak to be heard either. He speaks to be obeyed. He knows what He is doing and we can trust His expertise. So let's not just listen to hear His voice; let's listen to obey His commands. Imagine the quality product He can produce. After all, He is truly the Master Engineer.