2009 The Year of the Hermit

As I think about 2009 for me I believe I will call it The Year of the Hermit. I don't think that I've ever spent so much time by myself in my apartment as I did in 2009. I know that those of you who have rugrats pulling at your feet long for alone time and are probably jealous of me. I would say don't be, mostly because as I reflect on it, a good deal of it was time misspent.

It started with being in radiation treatments and being jobless. Both of those things tended to keep me to myself. Then came the hours and hours of job hunting. Job hunting has changed dramatically since I did it last, it's all done via the internet and you're lucky if you even have an e-mail exchange with a real person. But, it makes it just as easy to spend time playing mindless computer games as it does seriously look for work. I'd say the job hunting time was about a fifty-fifty split of time well spent and time misspent. Finally in May, a job emerged, but it only contributed to the hermitude (I think I made up a word).

I have a job now where I work from home. So, as I pay down bills and am able to contribute to the family who has so graciously opened up their home to me, I can't say that those hours were not time misspent. I am thankful for my job, even though it is not the desire of my heart. The prospect of being paid for every hour I work brings out any greed I might have in me. It was definitely easier to work at work than work at friendships. It became easy to work tons of hours and drive myself further into hermitdom.

Then there was not quite knowing what to do with myself when it came to church. It's really, really hard to go from being there 24-7 and being in the know, to just being another church member. I chose to remove myself as far as possible. I still went to Women's Bible Study and to services, but I did neither every week. I'm glad that God is faithful regardless of how many times we make it through the door, but it definitely contributed to the Year of the Hermit.

Thank goodness I chose to teach guitar lessons! I think I might have started to look like a hermit, if it weren't for seeing those kids on a weekly basis.

All of this wouldn't have been so bad if I had used my time better. I can't tell you the number of hours I wasted playing computer games or watching re-runs of TV shows that I've seen a million times or Facebook stalking. When I think of how much better I could have used those hours this year, it makes me sad; the songs that could have been written, the blogs that could have been posted, the books I could have read, the exercise I could have done, the time with friends that I could have intentionally spent and most importantly the intentional time in the Word and prayer I denied myself.

So here's to 2010 being the Year of Living. It is a reality of my life that I spend a lot of time alone, but I hereby resolve to use that time better this year. I hope to use it to grow myself, express myself and mostly to love God and those around me.

Little Girls

So today is a very exciting day here in Stafford, at least in my circle of friends. Chloe Noel Griffitts was born this morning at 10:50 AM. She's beautiful and pink and swaddled securely in her basinette at the hospital. She weighed in at eight pounds and an ounce and is nineteen inches long. The happy parents are Becca and Ben Griffitts and her big brother is Noah. She has great-grandparents, grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins galore, who are all very excited to see her finally. On top of that, she has a church family that can't wait to hold her and oo and ah over her (myself included). Her number one fan outside the family has to be Molly who texted me and said she was crying like a idiot over her. What a little gift from God. This little girl will no doubt be well loved, spoiled even. I was at the shower, I saw all the pink and soft and beautiful things that were lavished on her, and she wasn't even born yet. That is how it should be for all little girls.

Today, officials in North Carolina announced that yesterday they found the body of a child near a road near Fayetteville; they believe is 5-year old Shaniya Davis. This is NOT how it should be for any little girl. Last week, her mother reported her missing from her home. That same day, Shaniya was seen on a local motel's video surviellance tape with Mario Andretti McNeill, but had not been seen since. Police arrest McNeill and charged him with kidnapping. A couple days later, Shaniya's mother was charged with human trafficking. I can't help but think back to when Shaniya was born. Was she met with the same love and excitement that Chloe was met with today? I hope so, from the pictures I've seen of her, she looked like a well-cared for, happy little girl. So, what happened? What would drive a mother to sell her child? What would drive you to put her into the hands of someone who would discard her along the side of a road like an empty McDonald's bag? Why didn't someone, anyone see what might happen? Surely, this was a choice her mother was teetering on the edge of for some time. Why do we all live with our eyes closed?

So today, just as my heart bursts for the joy of Chloe's advent into the world, it cries for the loss of a little girl I don't know, but hope I don't forget. God help me live with my eyes (and my heart) wide open.

The Power of Consquences

Okay, I generally try to stay positive in this blogosphere, but I'm going to join some angry protests about this one. Hollywood is one messed up place. Sometimes I forget that, but I got reminded in a big way this week.

Finally after evading police for over 30 years, Roman Polanski was arrested this week in Switzerland for the 1977 rape of a 13 year old girl. And some people in Hollywood are DEFENDING HIM!!! They are signing petitions asking that he not be extradited to California to face the sentence that he should have faced 30 years ago, but wasn't man enough to do. I mean, I know that the world-view in Hollywood can be pretty screwy but really, defending him. There is no doubt the man is a brilliant director and has a gift for telling a story, but that does NOT excuse the fact that he got this young girl, drunk and high and then had sex with her. I realize he lost his wife and unborn child to the Manson murders, but that does not give him free reign to steal the innocence of a young girl. On top of that he was a coward and he ran.

She was practically a baby. I don't care if he says it was consensual. He was an ADULT and she was a CHILD. Adults are supposed to protect and look out for children, not use them for their own pleasure. That's messed up enough. But the fact that some in Hollywood are defending him, using his art and his age and his philanthropy to try to make it look like the police have arrested Mother Teresa. AUGH!!!

Now, I realize I have said here before that sin is sin and it doesn't matter what it is you've done that it's all equal in the eyes of God. I still stand by that truth. And I also realize that it's perhaps somewhat hypocritical of me to have sort of defended Michael Jackson and yet vilify Roman Polanski. Difference being the Polanski confessed to his deed and then ran from his punishment. In Jackson's case, it has never been proven beyond a shadow of a doubt he did anything to children. I also understand what it is to have a friend accused of something that you cannot fathom them doing. You see, I had a good friend who was accused of being a pedophile. When I heard about the allegations I couldn't believe it, not this person I knew. If I had to testify in court I would have to say that guy I knew I never would think could do that, but it didn't make it any less true in the end. The last I heard, my friend was in prison serving time for his crime. So how can people in good conscience defend Roman Polanski when he himself has said it was true!! I don't care if it was yesterday or 70 years ago, he needs to pay for his crime. Sherrie Shepard, one of the panelists on "The View" got it right when she said on Twitter the other day, "we hunt down 75 year old Nazis. We must protect our children." We don't care how old a terrorist is when he's arrested, why should we care that Polanski is in his 70's and a French citizen. That doesn't make him unaccountable for the crime that he did on American soil when he was in his 40's.

So as you can tell, I'm a little up in arms about this. I know Hollywood is full of ridiculously liberal people who live a lifestyle in complete opposition to my life and belief system, but honestly with all the support that they give to women's rights, how can they support this? I guess it's because they don't believe in the power of consequences. Not really anyway. Facing consquences is hard. It's in consequences we learn that life isn't really all about me. When we sin (and all of us do) there are consequences, in some cases its something small in the scheme of things like learning how to manage your money better, in other cases its big like having to win back the trust of a spouse or a friend after a betrayal. If we believe in the power of consequences we use them to learn and grow and make us better. Usually it takes a lot of strength and work and even more importantly faith to do that. God can use our greatest failure to create our greatest triumph if we turn it over to him. If we don't believe the power of consquences then we run from them or pretend they have no impact. We reinforce the idea that life really is all about me. The funny thing is, that when we do that, they manage to continue to pop up in one way or another. In Polanski's case, it was the law finally catching up with him, in other cases it's broken relationships or addictions or a plethora of other things. These people who are defending Polanski are really keeping him from the power of the consequences in his life. I wonder how much greater his art would have been if he had acknowledged his sin as sin, asked to be forgiven of it and taken the consquences. If it's up to the Hollywood elite, we'll never know.

Check this out...

So last night I played the Open Mic at the Daily Grind here in Stafford. I went mostly because I wanted one of my 11 year old students to play. That all went pretty well. Boy, are my vocal and playing chops rusty.... that's all I will say about that. And I felt a little foolish being the only person over 20 who played, but that's all good. All the kids who played did well, but I got two treats. The first was a pair of sisters, Emily and Anna Weisband. Great voices, great harmonies, they write a lot of their own music. Emily is definitely comfortable on stage, Anna seems a little less so. They did a their own unique arrangement of "The Way You Look Tonight," that Anna sang lead on. I LOVED IT. These young girls may be really something someday... check them out on myspace.

http://www.myspace.com/emilyannamusic

The other was Kevin McVey, one of my former tech kids from church, brilliant kid...literally. He played some techno music using a game boy and some other kids toys that he rewired. Amazing stuff. Never seen anything like it, so unique and so Kevin. The best part was watching this kid that I knew as a pretty shy and reserved person rock out to his own music that he had written using things that he'd put together with his own hands. Pretty cool if I have to say myself.

So keep your eyes out for these kids. Check them out if you get a chance.

My JAW Hurts

My Facebook friends may know that I went to the dentist a couple weeks ago to get some teeth filled. While I was there, one of the cavities he filled was really deep and the dentist was concerned that I might need to get a root canal. He said to come back and see him if started to bother me. Well, at first it was fine and then a week or so after the filling the pain was becoming a distraction. It wasn't a "I'm going to die" kind of pain, just the annoying kind. So I went back to the dentist who sent me to the root canal specialist. The root canal guy looked at it and said that there was no immediate need to deal with it and whether or not I got a root canal really was dictated by how bad the pain was for me. Well, since it wasn't killing me, I decided against the procedure right then. Since then, the pain comes and goes. Sometimes it's fine, other times it's annoying, and still others I reach for the Advil to deal with it.

Why do I tell you about my dental trials and tribulations? Well I went to the Beth Moore simulcast a couple weekends ago at a local church. She taught on Psalm 37, concentrating on Psalm 37: 4 "Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart." She said lots of things that were encouraging and challenging, real words from the Lord. But none were as relevant to my heart right now as what she said about the things that steal our delight. She used the acronym JAW (now you understand my rambling earlier) to point us to the things that can stand in the way of delighting in the Lord. The "J" stands for jealousy. You know, that green-eyed monster. Comparing, bemoaning why they succeed and I don't, begruding people what they have...ow...I've done them all. The "A" is for anger. I don't think I'm angry person, but I'm certainly not immune from that emotion. I've had my share of temper tantrums at others and at God. The "W" is worry. I think we all have those things we worry about: money, children, aging, the state of the world. I can be a worrier for certain: finances, insurances, what I'm going to be when I grow up, will I ever meet Mr. Right....the list goes on and and. When she got done, boy did my JAW hurt.

So as I continued to mull this over in my brain over the past week or so, I've been trying to do my own type of root canal, looking for the roots of those things that made my JAW hurt. Honestly, like a regular root canal, it's taking a lot of time and some pain for me to dig those things out. With a real root canal, it fixes the problem and the pain should not recur. I wish it was like that with my spiritual one, but I know because of my sin nature, jealous, anger and worry will come back. But what I need to do is get to them before they become an all consuming pain that takes away my focus. Whenever my JAW hurts even a little bit, I need to remember to take it to the Lord and let Him deal with my heart and the issue.

A Little Paint Goes a Long Way

I like to help people. But I have to admit, most of the time I'm pretty lazy. And most of the time I walk around with my head down to the needs around me. So I wanted to say thank you to Steve Sokoly and the Compassion Restoration Ministry for getting me off my lazy rear and picking my head up.

Compassion Restoration is a ministry that helps those who need a helping hand. They've completed several projects and I've always thought, "oh that's so good they are doing that." Recently they took on a huge project, the residents of a trailer park in our county were being threatened with eviction if they could not get their trailers to pass an inspection. I'm not sure how many of the folks needed help, but Steve Sokoly and his team were passionate about making sure that none of these families would be asked to leave. He put the call out on Facebook and I thought about going out last weekend and helping. But I decided instead to go to the movies instead. I spent the whole day at Potomac Mills wandering around. So while many, many people were blessing others, I was spending some time with a friend (a good thing) but the majority of the day I just wandered aimlessly by myself.

Well earlier this week I got an e-mail from my friend Margy encouraging people to help. There was still much to be done and the deadline for these people to get their homes up to snuff was looming large. So yesterday afternoon when I left the house to run some errands and get a haircut, I packed some grubby clothes with the thought that I "might" go over and see what I could do. Thankfully my friend Christine was going as well, that gave me the courage to actually drive my car in that direction after I had taken care of my errands. Boy, am I glad I did.

This is a community I've driven past a number of times, off one of the country roads here in Stafford county. There's probably 40 or so trailers in this space. It brought back memories of visiting my sister when she lived in a trailer park. As I drove up a number of folks were outside painting on their homes. I found my friend helping a young woman paint out in the heat. I found out that the young woman was the mother to five children under the age of seven, including 2 year old twins that had been born 2 months premature. As I asked her about her family and her husband, hearing about how he worked two jobs in order to keep them in this simple home, it reminded me of how hard life can be. Christine gently asked her about church and Jesus and found a young woman who had been judged for her choices and her habits by church before and really was confused about what it meant to be a Christian. She was I would say a truly good person: she was kind to us and grateful for our help, she was attentive to her children, worked hard to provide the best life for them she could, taught her children to say please and thank you. Sadly I think she believes that all her "doing" will please God, and it does, but it still doesn't erase the fact that without Jesus she's still going to miss the mark. We invited her to church, and she gave us a list of reasons why she found it hard to get there. We tried to answer every objection and I hope that she will decide to go, even if it's only as a "thank you" to us. Who knows how God is working.

Then when Christine left, Cindy showed up and we started to work on another trailer. That was when I got the joy of meeting Juanita. Juanita, it seems, is the lady who got this whole project started. She went to the doctor shortly after been given this laundry list of things she had to accomplish in order to not be evicted and simply fell apart in the waiting room. It "just so happened" that a woman whose husband is involved with the Compassion Restoration Ministry was a nurse in this office (coincidence...I think not) and heard about the plight of Juanita and so many others in this community. She told Juanita, "I want to help you." Juanita told me that she was shocked. They exchanged information and that's how the whole project got started. Juanita's a scrappy lady, she's probably in her fifties and reminded me of the lady who would be your favorite person working at the school cafeteria. She cares a lot about her neighbors and can barely talk about how grateful she is for the help without tearing up. She told me that they used to go to church all the time, that they were from Lynchburg and had at one time been a part of Thomas Road. But, she said it's easy to fall out of going and I agreed with her. She talked about trying to come to MABC one Sunday.

When Cindy and I set to work on the trailer we were painting, Juanita's daughter and the girl across the street came over to help us. The girl (who had painted her trailer purple!) said, "You know, you all have done so much for me, let me help you do this. I have to help you do this." That gave Cindy a wonderful chance to chat with the girls as I listened and prayed from the other end of the trailer. Cindy got to share about our church, tell them service times, and to invite them to the women's ministry event in September.

As the dusk turned to night, they bought us popsicles and we got to chat a little more as we cleaned up. As I walked back to my car, paint spattered and weary from working out in the heat, I couldn't help but smile from the inside out and say "thank you" to God. A little paint does go a long way. It opened a door to encourage a hard-working and weary young mother, confused about how to please God. It reminded a middle-aged lady that there are still people out there that care about others and that maybe, just maybe it's time to return to the church of her younger days. It showed two young women that church is full of real people who care about other people. It reminded me that it's too easy to turn into myself and spend time aimlessly, that there is a purpose that we're all called to -- LOVE. And that love can look like paint on a trailer.

So Saturday afternoon instead of going back to the place I'm housesitting and sitting by their gorgeous pool all afternoon, I'm going to pull on those grubbies and head back out to see Juanita and the people of Hidden Lane. Hope to see you there.

Prayers from Africa

You know, I've been a part of a church for most of my life. All have, in some way, been evangelical. At the very least we were encouraged to pray for missions in dark and scary places like Central America or China or Africa. You know, the people in Africa, they need Jesus or at the very least the pity of us wealthy Americans.

Some years ago, long after I accepted Christ and really understood the importance of missions for real, I went to some Christian concert and signed up to sponsor a child from Africa. Her name is Maureen and she is from Uganda. She's 14 now I think. I'm glad to say that I've been able to faithful to that commitment financially over the past few years. (Let's remember that money and I have a love/hate relationship...I used to love to spend what wasn't mine and hated the bills. I'm working on righting that, thanks to a lot of grace.) But, I have to say that I'm not the best at writing letters to her. I just didn't know what to say to her a lot of the time. You can't exactly talk about the latest movie to a child who lives in a village in Africa. Worse yet, I probably didn't pray for her nearly as much as I should. Her picture is on my refrigerator and I try to remember to pray for her when I look at it, but it's one of those things that has been there so long, that I rarely actually look at it.

About two weeks ago now, I got a letter from her. In one of my more recent letters I told her that I had cancer and was undergoing treatment. This is what she said to me:

"I want to inform you that one night I dreamt that you were completely cured from cancer and above all I realised that you were walking with me. There and then I woke up and prayed to God to heal you. And I believe that God's divine healing is still taking a gradual process."

Wow. That's really the only word for that letter. Wow, that this girl who hardly ever hears from me had me so on her heart that she dreamt about me. Wow, that she was so obedient to the heart of God that she didn't roll over or think "what a weird dream," but she got up out of the bed to pray for me in that moment. Wow, that I have a God who loves me so much that he spoke in a dream to a girl in that "dark, scary place" Africa about me.

Ow. That's the other word for that letter. Ow, that I don't take the time to write her like I should. Ow, that I sometimes I only think about her when it's time to write the check to Compassion International. Ow, that I pretty sure I've never been immediately that obedient to a call of God. Ow, that I can arrogantly think that THEY need MY prayers. Talk about a humbling experience.

So the next time you pray for Africa or Central America or China or the Middle East, maybe someone there is praying for you.

Surpassed...with pride

Tonight was a gorgeous summer night in Virginia. There was no humidity (surely only by the grace of God) and it was in the 70's outside. A perfect night to be hanging out somewhere listening to music. And that's what I did tonight, I went out to a local coffee shop (the Daily Grind) and listened to music.

Tonight was a special treat, not just because of the weather. Though I would have to say that it was the kind of night if you could capture it in a bottle and sell it, you would be a gazillionaire. It was special because all of the artists I heard tonight were "my kids," students that I worked with when they were in high school and college. Three of them were in my student band, Toluca Road and the other I continue to kick myself for turning down, but he's none the worse for wear.

Tim, Jason, Matt and Rory have always been amazingly talented young men. I remember sitting with Tim in a guitar class at camp when he was in the 8th grade thinking, "this kid is going to be amazing." I remember having him in Toluca Road and pushing him to sing even when he was dealing with that voice change thing boys go through. He writes songs that are one minute funny and then next minute thoughtful and beautiful. Jason is by far the best drummer I know and it's because he has always looked at the whole picture of the song and how he can best add to it. Matt, well Matt is astounding. He can play any instrument you put in front of him in just about any style and usually carries with him an assortment of odd instruments that he only really knows the name of and how to play. And then there's Rory. He's the one I turned down. He's an artist on every level, in high school he played Jesus in Godspell and to this day I don't think I've seen anyone play that part as well. He's become an amazing singer/songwriter. He's such an incredible wordsmith, every song painted in rich hues sometimes impressionistic in nature other times with clean, cutting lines.

As I sat and listened to these "boys" (none is younger than 20) play their own songs or covers of songs they love I was so moved with pride and love and awe. I think the thing I love the most is to watch their friendship in action. They laugh and tease and throw around inside jokes. They love music and their friendship. To all of them pursuing music is just a part of who they are. Part of their pursuit of the One who put that music inside them. I have to say that as I listened to them, I knew too that they have surpassed me in skill creatively, musically and lyrically. That could make one depressed or angry but for me it did two things. First of all it made me want to be better, to spend more time at my craft, to practice, to study, to pour out the words I know are in me. The second thing it did was it made me proud. I'm proud that they have surpassed me.

I'll never have children of my own, but these "boys" were the among the ones that God has let me be a part. I'm not saying I taught them much of anything musically. Each one was gifted far beyond my meager abilities, but what I did was pour love, affirmation, truth and sometimes discipline into their lives. I gave them opportunities to grow and change and make music. And even though many years have passed since those days, I still that I think I can take some pride in that. Not in a bad, puffed up, "look at what I've accomplished" kind of pride, but a "look what God let me be a part of" kind of pride. I love each one of my kids and carry each one of them in my heart . I hope to be surpassed by each one of them in grace, love and faithfulness.

Just Grass

"As for man, his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field; for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more. But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him" (Ps. 103:15-17a)

My friend Tony Merida posted that this morning as his status. Yesterday was a weird day in America, we lost two pop culture icons, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. Also earlier in the week Ed McMahon died. Now I do not know any of these people only the personas that were out there for the world to see. I know that each had an impact on American and even world culture to some degree.

I grew up with Michael Jackson, he was just five years older than me. As a kid I was more than a little teen idol crazy, my favorite was Donny Osmond. The Osmonds and the Jackson walked parallel tracks to stardom in the 70's and were in all the same magazines. My older brother used to like to tease me by taking my Donny Osmond poster and turning it over to put Michael's face on my wall instead. When I need to smile, I pull out my Jackson Five CD and listen to ABC or I Want You Back. I remember staying up late to watch the "Thriller" video debut on Halloween night and the Pepsi commercial filming when Michael's hair caught on fire. As he got older, he got weirder. In my mind I have to attribute some of that to never really having a normal childhood of any kind and to the reported abuses by his father. He was a man with a sick heart, not physically but spritually, looking for love and acceptance in changing his appearance, spending money like it was water, remaining and child and perhaps doing unthinkable things to children. Depending on the Michael you first knew, I think your perspective on his passing is different.

My brother had "that" poster of Farrah, the one of with all her hair and teeth in that one-piece red bathing suit. We were avid watchers of Charlie's Angels. My cousins and I used to pretend we were them. Heck, I even have a picture of me and some friends doing the Charlie's Angels pose at a wedding a few years ago! She married, then divorced Lee Majors. She fought to be seen as a serious actress and not just a pretty face. She had a long, rocky, and crazy relationship with Ryan O'Neal. Three years ago, Farrah contracted malignant anal cancer. Even as a cancer survivor the sound of that just makes me cringe. In these past months especially her fight with this disease has been in the spotlight, she took cameras with her to document her journey. I didn't see the documentary, but from what I heard it was powerful and insightful and knowing the indignity of cancer treatment certainly brave.

Then there was Ed McMahon. The jovial sidekick of Johnny Carson. The host of one of the original reality show, "Star Search" and pitchman extraordinaire. For me, Ed will always be remembered as Jerry Lewis' sidekick on the MDA Labor Day telethon. Up until a few years ago, I never missed that telethon, crying through the whole thing. Ed lived to be 86 and really only in the past few years had struggled with health issues and had financial problems. Ed had a number of physical ailments at the end that took him including cancer and pneumonia.

So, like Tony posted this morning. All of us are like grass. Sometimes grass grows tall and long and dies after a long life (for grass that is). Sometimes grass gets sick and dies slowly and painfully. Sometimes grass gets burnt up quickly in a firestorm. Ed, Farrah and Michael, grass. You and me, grass. The real question is for whom did the grass live? Did they live for themselves or fame or their families or did they live for God and trust in Jesus to save them.

Today we will indulge in remembrances of those lost. Perhaps the media will get carried away (okay, they already have). It's my hope that these losses will remind us that we are all grass and we need to focus on who we are living for and how we live Jesus out and share Jesus with those around us.

Chick Flicks

So I saw two really funny chick flicks this week. The first was "My Life in Ruins" Nia Vardalos (My Big Fat Greek Wedding) goes to Greece as a college professor but ends up a tour guide with a second rate tour company. It definitely was not as good as My Big Fat Greek Wedding, but it was cute distraction. Richard Dreyfus was engaging as always. And the guy who played "Poopy Kakas" (yes, I'm serious that was his character's name) was hunky in that Greek kind of way.

The other was "The Proposal" with Sandra Bullock, Ryan Reynolds and Betty White. It's so nice to see Sandra back in her stride. She created a character that was so obnoxious yet so funny and then so vulnerable that you fell in love with her, just like Ryan Reynolds does in the film. There are so many funny, funny scenes and Reynolds is sarcastic in the right places and sweet in others. Now, everyone should know that there is a scene where you see a lot more of Sandy than anyone other than her husband should see, but it's done for the sake of comedy and you don't actually see anything. Betty White is hilarious as Reynold's grandmother. She's fiesty and sweet and just completely the perfect grandmother. This is laugh out loud funny and will give Sandra the boost back to the top of her game again. And Reynolds is quite the hottie. I have to say that I was disappointed to find out that Scarlett Johansen snatched himup. ;-)

How to Make Writing in Your Blog

So this morning I returned a book the the library.."How to Make Money Off Your Blog." It was one of those books that I took out of the library but never read...but one things for sure, I'll bet it would say that to make money off your blog you have to write in it regularly. I can't believe it's been as long as it has since I've posted an entry.

For those you who don't know, I did finally get a job. I'm working for a small gov't contractor writing training curriculum. It works great in some ways cause I get to work from home and they pay me for all my OT. So, that's part of the reason I've been silent...working long hours at the computer doesn't exactly make you want to go back to the computer and write more.

The job isn't my dream job by any means, but the pay is good and you certainly can't beat the commute. But these past weeks have certainly reminded me how easy it can get to let your life get out of balance. The lure of overtime pay pulled me into working a lot of overtime and I guess I should be thankful that I got tired of it pretty quickly. But it does become very easy living by yourself to become a hermit. I understand how it can happen.

Today Todd started a new series, called Under the Sun about Ecclesiasties and today he talked about work. He talked about work becoming a "functional savior" in our lives. One of the things that this begins to shine a light on about me is I need something else to spend my time on. Writing here, writing songs, spending time with friends, spending time in the Word. So this is my first effort toward that, making writing in my blog

American Idol fans everywhere

Okay, so this morning I was watching the Today show to see Kris Allen and Adam Lambert perform. Of course they put it at the very end of the 8 o'clock hour and teased us and teased us with showing them rehearsing and in the green room, etc. But this is the thing I thought was funny.
On the show this morning was Sara Jane Moore. She was one of the women in the 70's who tried assassinate President Ford. Matt interviewed her. She was my age when she committed her crime and she's been in jail for 32 years. They talked about lots of things, why she did what she did, why she decided to come forward, what life is like now, how prison changed her. She's an interesting woman, extremely sharp for being in her 80's and having been in prison for that long. She looks like an ordinary grandmother.
So here's the funny part, during Kris and Adam's performances, they showed the crowd as they always do. Lots of young people with cameras, singing along, lots of signs and screaming. And guess who was right there with the rest of them, Sara Jane Moore. It just goes to show you that American Idol fans are truly everywhere...even little old ladies who have been in prison for the past 32 years. It made me laugh. Pop culture at its best. Had to share.

Go ahead and call me a nerd

I went to see the new Star Trek movie yesterday in IMAX. Here's my recommendation: run, don't walk to the closest theater to see this movie!

I have enjoyed Star Trek most of my life. I'm not a Trekkie or even a fan really. I can't tell you any minute details about this series or that series, I don't own any memorabilia, I have to think really hard to tell the difference between a Romulan and a Klingon and a Ferengi. But like most Americans I know who Kirk, Spock, Uhura, Chechov and the rest of the crew are. I know the catch phrases and the quirks of their characters. It is completely obvious in this film that JJ Abrams is a fan and knows all those things too, but he helps us understand where all those things come from in this movie. His casting was perfect. Chris Pine as Kirk shows he can handle big shoes, Zachary Quinto as Spock is completely engaging and as complicated as ever. I have to say that I think Simon Pegg as Scotty was my favorite though. The writing is face paced and witty. The acting is really acting, not just action with a little acting thrown in for good measure. The special effects were clean and clear. And seeing it in IMAX, even from the second row made it even better.

Sequels and remakes are always risky, you have the opportunity to reignite our imaginations or squelch them. I think that Abrams found the right balance of old and new in order to reignite the imaginations of fanatics, fans and novices. It's fun and funny and with an engaging story line and characters that you really like.

I went to this movie with my friend Andew, he is a true Star Trek fan, (I think he can speak Klingon) my friend Kate was there as well, she has never seen any Star Trek at all (how is that possible I wonder) and BOTH of them loved it. This IS going to be the summer movie to beat. I won't foolishly hope for the academy to notice, but the box office will prove this movies worth this summer.

I am at the end of my rope...

I grew up in the 70's and 80's and in school the Scholastic people sold in addition to books, posters. I remember one with a cat hanging on to the end of a rope. I'm pretty sure it must have said something about being at the end of your rope, though I can't recall exactly. But that's the image I have in mind when I think of that phrase, or at least I did until last Sunday.

Last Sunday I woke up with a startling revelation. It was May 3, which meant Monday was May 4. No I don't have a fear of the number 4, or think that on 5/4/09 Jesus was coming back. No, I just realized that on 5/4/09 I had a date with the civil court in Fredericksburg over a credit card debt. That's one thing some of you might not know, I'm in debt. That's probably not unlike you although I hope none of you are in the place I am. It's a long story that I could go into but won't. It has to do with a girl who thought she was in love and did whatever she could to help out a guy and got herself in a really bad place in a lot of ways and then the guy left her holding the bag. I've been fighting my way out of this hole for the past three years with the help of a debt settlement company. It's been a long fight and I'm close to being out. I would warn you to make sure you look at the tax ramifications of using debt settlement as opposed to credit counseling services before you move. Anyway, I was startled awake by that fact. The week before I'd been on the phone with the settlement company and they were close to a settlement, but it hadn't come about by Friday which meant I was due in court on Monday. I didn't have a lawyer or the money to pay one. I was scared and overwhelmed. It was yet another moment in this craziness that has been my life these past months. My tendency at times like that is to either run to someone else to solve my problem for me or to hide from it. At at the end of my rope Iam usually clinging to it for dear life or trying to scramble for the top.

This time though, I decided to let go. I didn't go to church, in fact I don't think I even showered until 5PM. I spent most of the morning and afternoon writing in my journal, reading my Bible and praying. I NEVER do that. I may spend a half an hour or so in quiet, but hours? You would think because I live by myself I would cherish the quiet and the opportunity to spend time with the Lord. Unfortunately, I don't. I spend more of my morning with Matt, Meredith, Al and Ann most days than I do with God. The quiet reminds me that I'm alone and most days that's too scary. But this day I NEEDED it. Later in the day I wrote an e-mail to a few select friends and asked them to pray.

This was part of what I wrote:
"So I ask that you please pray for me (as I know you have been and am grateful for) as I run up on this hurdle for wisdom as to what to do and the strength to keep my head up and eyes on Jesus. I have to admit, I'm awful tired of this."

So Monday morning came and I went to court. (Which in itself could be an entire post) Sharon went with me. My stomach the entire time grumbled and tumbled, it was embarrassing. Finally after about an hour they called my name and I approached the bench. I told the judge about the movement with the debt settlement company and he gave me a continuance! I was so relieved and so thankful.

Sunday I wrote this in my journal as well about job hunting:
"I am out of ideas for job hunting. I am out of strength to keep looking a digging. I need YOU to do it. I am out of creativity and ideas. So I ask You to be all those things in me."

After court I went home and changed clothes and hit the job boards again. It was the only thing I knew to do. My mantra had become, "just keep swimming." Thank you Dorie. While I was working on that, I got a message from a friend who worked in the school system. Would I be willing to work a short term job covering for someone at South Stafford checking ID's? I immediately saw this as a gift from heaven and jumped at it.

Then Tuesday while I was working the desk at the school, I got a voicemail. That company that I thought had turned me down, they called. They wanted to hire me! That was followed by a call from Wegmans wanting to interview me. By the end of Tuesday my head was literally spinning.

Last Sunday, I reached the end of my rope and this time instead of trusting in myself and my strength, I let go. Once again, that amazing God who promises to never leave us or forsake us, who tells us that he holds us in the palm of his hand, who hides us in the shadow of his wing proved what I'd forgotten. HE is faithful and HE will do it. WE just have to get out of the way and let HIM move and work.

Now, I'd like to say "lesson learned" and check it off my list of things that God has to change in me in order to make me more like Him. But guess what, knowing me probably not. So the next time you see me clinging to my rope like that kitten in the poster, feel free to remind me to let go.

Roller Coaster Ride

I'm not exactly a fan of amusement parks. I've lived here for almost 20 years and I've been to King's Dominion maybe two hands full...maybe. Growing up in Pittsburgh the big thing was to go to Kennywood every year for the "school picnic." (Yes we actually were allowed to take a day off school to go to an amusement park)I never went, even though (if memory serves me) you had to go to school that day if you didn't go to the park. Partially I think because we didn't have the money for us to go and partially because it just didn't interest me. I don't think I ever actually rode a roller coaster until I was 13 or 14 at Cedar Point on one of our few family vacations. Let me make this very clear, though I am not a fan of amusement parks, I LOVE Disney World. In my mind they are not even the same thing.


Of course one of the reasons people love amusement parks is that it seems everyone loves roller coasters. I don't. It used to be that they just scared me. Some still do. You won't ever catch me dangling from a harness being dropped a million feet. The heights, the speed, the being upside down none of it appeals to me. I really, really don't like the prolonged tilted to one side whipping around a curve feeling like you could pop out of the seat any second like being slung out of a slingshot. Part of that came too because I've always been overweight and I never felt like the harness could lock adequately over me. Now that I've lost some weight, that might not be an issue, but still that feeling of you're going to plunge to your death is not what I live for. I go on them, but they usually aren't fun to me.





Well this past week has been a roller coaster. One minute filled with hope climbing to the top of a hill, the next reeling toward the bottom and certain death. Last Friday, was a top of the hill moment. I had what I thought was a great interview. The one interviewer and I hit it off, the other sounded skeptical at first, but I thought I'd won him over by the time I was done. This job would have been great and I was counting all the ways I could bless others (and myself to be honest) with the mondo salary it would have paid. And I never would have to leave my kitchen to do the work. Saturday even though it was hot as Hades, I kept climbing because I got to help work on a fence for Sharon's garden with my precious Glasgow family. I fell in a post hole and got stung by a bee, but it was worth it to help them one iota of how they've helped me. Sunday was a little dip, going to the funeral of a friend's mother, but honestly felt uplifted by the love of the family and the friends with whom I went. Monday for the most part was smooth and even until Monday afternoon. I came home opened my e-mail and plunged over the edge. They didn't want me. No feedback, just "we won't be needing your services at this time." Luckily I didn't have time to hit the bottom, because I had to go work at the music store. There's something to be said for not being able to dwell on things. Tuesday I tried my best to chug up the other side of that hill, hitting the internet job boards and having a walk and talk with my friend who perpetually thinks outside the box. But all it took was a look at my checkbook or a thought about how pitiful this job market is to send me over another peak.



So, it's been like that all week, climb a little, fall a little, climb a little, fall a little. Today was a more of a climb than a fall thankfully. I got a part time job at Lane Bryant. It's a climb I know and I'm trying to see it as such, not as a fall (since it only pays $7.00 an hour). But there has been lots of climbing today. The best one is that Dr G looked inside me today and "I don't see any cancer!" Suddenly, I hear KC and the Sunshine band in my head,"That's the way, uh huh, uh huh, I like it!!" Also the debt settlement company is settling one of my larger debts as I type. But I know the plunge is coming again, but that's okay.



You see, I remember being told that being a roller coaster Christian was a bad thing. But I think they got the metaphor wrong. Here's what I think. Life IS a roller coaster. Unless you're Simon Cowell or Barack Obama or someone else who seems to have a charmed life, life is nothing but ups and downs. Sometimes it's smooth and easy like a kiddie roller coaster and sometimes it's a deep plunge or a sudden turn to the left or right or a complete turn upside down. I've become wise enough (ok, I just set myself up for a fall for saying I have any wisdom) to know that it's not the ride that matters, it's what holds you in place. The reason roller coasters freak me out is because I don't trust the harness. In the real rollercoaster of LIFE, I've learned to trust my harness, Jesus Christ. He's what holds me in place and keeps me safe even though life is going in every kind of direction. It's only when I forget WHO holds me that I get freaked out. And thankfully, at least lately, it's been only for short periods of time (I was going to say momentarily, but that wasn't close to accurate) that I forget.


Here's some things to help us all remember:


Psalm 9:9-10: The LORD is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble.
Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you.


Psalm 28: 6-8: Praise be to the LORD, for he has heard my cry for mercy. The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song. The LORD is the strength of his people, a fortress of salvation for his anointed one.


Psalm 56:3-4 When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can mortal man do to me?


And it goes on and on in Psalms and Proverbs.

So as I prepare for the next plunge or twist or turn, I remember that it's my harness that keeps me safe. Thank you Jesus for being that harness.

How often do I agree with CNN?

I would just like to point out that I said this first, but since I don't write for CNN and only have 9 followers, no one will be talking about what I said. But that's ok, I know I said it first.

Check out what Peter Bregman of CNN has to say about Susan Boyle.

http://www.cnn.com/2009/SHOWBIZ/Music/04/22/bregman.boyle/index.html?eref=rss_topstories

Like Isaid, how often do I agree with CNN?

I Dreamed a Dream

So Easter morning I was checking my Twitter page and Ann Curry (yes like Ann Curry from the Today show) posted a link and basically said, this will make you smile, so I clicked on it. I didn't just smile, I was amazed.

YouTube won't let me embed the video, but here's the link.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

But, chances are you've seen it already. That was Susan Boyle. She is the truly overnight sensation that has been burning up cyberspace. I just checked her counter on YouTube and it's up to over 12 million hits. This clip has been everywhere.

Here's what I love about her. She's ordinary and extraordinary all rolled into one. She's like so many of us. She's this very, very ordinary looking woman (some might say homely) with the beautiful instrument inside her. To look at her, you would dismiss her. And she has been dismissed; she's 47 and never been kissed. (Can sort of relate to that one....took me till 40) She's unemployed and lives alone with her cat. (boy Susan, you and I could be best buddies) This society that places so much value on what we look like, what job we have, what we've accomplished, our relational status, simply would say she's a loser. But something in her knows she's got something to offer, you could see it when she walked out on that stage. And when she opened her mouth, every person was amazed. Simon, Piers, the blond chick who I didn't know, every person in that audience, me and all the millions who have opened that video link we set back on our heels with just one note. There was something extraordinary in there.

So, that's my hope today. That I continue to believe in the extraordinary part of me even when the ordinary part of me gets looked past. And I'm not even talking about any talent I might have. (Though I certainly wouldn't turn down being noticed in that way) My hope is that my extraordinary parts are what God is building in me would be seen. That I learn to live bigger than me and not let the ordinariness (is that a word?) of my every day make me think I'm a loser.

Here's my other lesson from this seemingly ordinary woman from Scotland, I love that she sang "I dreamed a dream." Sometimes I forget my dreams, don't you? Life sometimes can get in the way of remembering them. May I remember them today and every day.

Jesus replied, "What is impossible with men is possible with God." Luke 18:27

You go Susan! You've won my heart and the hearts of millions. Keep dreaming that dream.

Job Safari

So I realized this morning that I've been unemployed for 6 months. How is that possible?? I know that a huge portion of that was spent in cancer treatment, but how is that possible?

I coined a new phrase this morning while chatting on Facebook with a friend from high school...job safari. And I have to tell you that's kind of what it feels like, troweling the internet for that unattainable white lion, the perfect job. Part of my problem is my perfect job and what I need right now are in conflict. You see my perfect job would involve a super flexible schedule that allowed me to do things like write in my blog, or workout or work on a book or spend all day watching old NCIS episodes. But that doesn't seem to be what is out there. My perfect job would allow me to use all the uniqueness that is me (God fearing, guitar playing, technically savvy, creative, heart for people, fascinated with all things Hollywood, non-political but concerned about things bigger than me, easily distracted, teenager-loving, not driven enough for the size of dreams I have, communicative but non-verbal...) as part of the job. But it doesn't seem to be out there. In fact the only really good prospect I have right now is about as opposite all those things as possible. As I get older my desire to not just punch a clock or do something that's not in my heart gets smaller and smaller. I'm fortunate in that I don't have to worry about anyone else. That's also why I'm unfortunate, cancer treatment and follow up is expensive without insurance.

I get a lot of e-mails from job websites. I've registered with every one I can find. And they all read like this one I just got, "Christine--don't miss these high paying careers." Here's the rub, I wish the part of me that trusted God to provide was smaller than the part that perks up when I see that. I wish more of me was a dreamer and less of me was worried about paying the bills on time or getting insurance coverage.

That's why sometimes I find myself hiding behind a rock instead of out tramping through the savannah looking at all the possibilities out there. I wonder if I'm settling instead of seeking. Quivering in fear instead of stepping out into the adventure.

I know that a job isn't who you are, but I would hope it would be better if it was at least close. I think of my friend Dale. He's an artist, a true artist. He's working on a new painting as I type these words. It is so full of him and the God who loves him, it's humbling. http://www.daleglasgow.com/ check out his work.

So as I continue this job safari, I hope that I approach it with a sense of adventure and anticipation, not dread and drudgery. Surely, I can believe God when he says ,"Plans for a hope and a future."

The Road to Spiffy Underwear and Beyond

So, yesterday was my last internal radiation treatment! (How come I'm hearing "Hammer Time" in my head right now?) My road with this cancer is finally at an end. It is my prayer, hope and confidence that it doesn't pick up again somewhere around the bend. Of course there will be follow up appointments, probably for the rest of my life, but this leg of the race is over!

The race involved surgery (and I have the 8 inch scar to prove it) and external radiation (see my earlier post) and internal radiation. Yes, internal radiation is exactly what you think it is. I've been trying to think of how to write about it without seeming indelicate for three weeks now, but it's nearly impossible. There is no other way to put it, they use a giant radioactive tampon. Ok, it's not giant, but it's definitely larger than the biggest tampon I ever used. That is why they give me a dialator to help me prepare for the treatment. Again, there's no real way to talk about this without seeming indelicate. "Prep" was not exactly pleasant for me, (let's remember that I am quite literally the 44 year old virgin) so I was very thankful that they prescribed me a few happy pills to take before I went the first couple times!

When I got there they called me back, put me behind a curtain in the CT room and asked me to strip from the waist down. That's when the spiffy underwear came out. Imagine the ugliest pair of cotton granny panties you've ever seen with two three inch strips of velcro running from front to back and yes, it has a huge slit in the crotch. I swear it must weigh two pounds! Not exactly Victoria's secret if you know what I mean. They are evidently much more private and secure than what they used to do, which I was believe was have you lie there exposed and tape things in place. Here's the spiffy underwear...see I told you.They asked me to lay on the CT table and suddenly the room was full of people examining my private area. Two of the techs I'd had before (a Hispanic lady and the handsome, sweet male tech, of course), my Filopino doctor and these two new guys. One was Asian and one was Eastern European. I say that because they looked it and sounded it. Everyone had their white coats on and suddenly I felt like I was in a bad James Bond movie. (I told one of the nurses that yesterday and she nearly died laughing.)

That's when they bring out "Big Jim" (no lie, that's what the nurse calls it) Thankfully I had taken my happy pill, so I was very calm about the whole thing. Evidently, I was the first person they used the spiffy underwear on so everyone was very interested in looking at my pelvic region. Ah, the humiliation continues. But they insert the applicator (tampon, see I told you) with the radioactive stuff in it and attach a wire to it. Then they sent me through the CT scanner to make sure everything is in place. That's when the laying still begins. Because once they get it in there, you can't move...for an hour and half! Thankfully the nurse (I've learned that the nurse in this has all the sense and knowledge) told me not to drink much that morning. Evidently they have to plan what they are doing, I'm just hoping that was what they were doing and not watching the NCAA tournament or playing parchesi. So they rolled me off the table and placed me on a gurney and took me to the 6X8 waiting room. Thankfully it had a TV and TLC so I could watch "What Not to Wear", but thanks to the happy pills, I really just drifted in and out of slumber.

Finally they came back for me and wheeled me into one of the treatment rooms. The guys from the James Bond movie came back and ran a wire from a machine that once again looked like something from Moonraker to whatever was coming out of the tampon. The doctor said, "you won't feel anything." The cast of The Spy Who Loved Me left the room quickly to watch through a camera behind a lead door. (Once again, why haven't we come up for a better treatment for this disease?) Well, it didn't hurt, but I most certainly felt something. I looked down and the little machine was all red and green lights in a circle and the wire was just vibrating like crazy. In five minutes it was over. They came back and Asian man unhooked me and Eastern European guy had a device in his hand. Oh, yes, really, it was a Geiger counter! He checked the machine and then he checked me with it! Ever since I started this process people have been teasing me about glowing. This was the first time I thought it might be a possibility. The nurse waited for the rest of them to leave and removed "Big Jim", wheeled me back to the room, with a brief stop so that Geiger Counter Man could check me again, I put on my clothes and Sharon drove me home where I promptly went to sleep. Ah, happy pills. That was verse one and verses two and three were very much the same except for verse three I forewent the happy pill just to prove to myself I could handle it.

I am so grateful to God for the strength and peace that he granted me through this. I am also so humbly overwhelmed by the amount of love, prayer and care I've received throughout, I am truly unworthy. I owe thanks and gratitude to God most of all, but to so many of his children as well.

Andrea, thanks for being there when I was diagnosed, you were the perfect person because you could ask the questions when all I heard was the echo of cancer in my head. Dawn, thanks for helping me move into action right away and not sit and let it take over. Dale and Sharon, thank you for providing the safe place to heal in everyway. Becca for putting together my very own facebook prayer team; how that encouraged me and reminded me I was loved. Kathy and Kim thank you for driving me to the hospital that early, early morning and wait for hours for them to call me back. Molly, Todd, Zac, Sharon, Hannah and Dawn for breaking that "2 visitors per patient rule" during my surgery. Andrea, Dawn, Hannah and Sara for staying with me in the hospital. Thanks for being true friends and not saying anything about oh too revealing hospital gowns and medicine that made me loopy. Jim and Anita for at the last minute giving up your bedroom, rearranging your lives, making me yummy food and letting me stay at your house when I came home from the hospital. To my brothers for taking off time from their jobs and coming from far off to stay with me. For the many, many meals and cards I received, for the offers of rides to treatment, lunches out, visits, facebook messages and most of all prayers, I am forever grateful.

It was rainy this morning when I started this post, the first thunderstorm of the spring, so gray it was almost scary. Now the sun is out and the birds are singing. Kind of an appropriate place to stop. Just a reminder from God that there's always an end to the storms you run through in the race of life.

Beware of things in the roadway

So today after church I went to the Target in south Stafford to work on my Bible Study because I had time before the YMCA opened at noon. I know it sounds weird that I went to Target to work on Bible study, but it has a Starbucks and tables and it was a more direct route than going to Fredericksburg. Since I don't have a job yet, I'm trying to conserve my gas as much as I can.

I spent about an hour and a half working on the Romans study for this week. It was Romans 12:9-21, where Paul talks about love and what it looks like. I know even those out there who maybe aren't Bible experts or even claim to know God probably have heard I Corinthians 13 (love is patient, kind, blah, blah, blah) but this section of verses is a little different, and in actuality very scary to try to live out.

Here's verses 9-12 for a taste: "9Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. 10Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. 11Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. 12Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer."

And it goes on and on like that, sucker punch to the gut after sucker punch to the gut until it ends with: 17Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. 18If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. 19Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay,"says the Lord. 20On the contrary: "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head." 21Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

Anyway, back to the title of this post. As I was headed from Target to the gym, just as I got ready to pass under I-95, I saw something in the road ahead, from far off, with my glasses off (lesson #1) it looked like a plastic bag, so I point my car so that it would got under the center of my car. Yeah, it was only when I heard the THUD and saw piece of it flying everywhere did I realize it was a large block of styrofoam (at least that's what I hope it was). My car kept going and there weren't any immediate evidences of damage, but it sure made my heart leap to my throat. Immediately I prayed, "God please don't let this have ruined my car. I really can't take anything else." Now anyone who knows me knows that my car isn't a thing of beauty, it's pretty banged up, and it has almost 150,000 miles on it, but it's my car. I own it, it's one of the few things of value I actually own and with no job the prospect of a car repair bill terrified me. Tears filled my eyes as my heart rate got back under control. I didn't hear anything weird or smell anything weird so I drove on to the gym. As I got out of the car I made a mental note to check under my car when I left.

The hour or so later I came out to my car, started it, and drove away. Didn't look under the car once. Didn't even think about it until I circled past the space from the main road. All that angst and tears simply forgotten a hour later. How completely human of me.

I think that's why Paul has to tell us time and again and from every angle what love looks like. Cause if he didn't it would be like that thing in the roadway, a bump that jostles us for a minute and really makes us think about it, but we'll forget about it an hour later.

Here's the other thing I thought of, how stupid of me, with all the junk I've been through in these past few months to let a thing like that bring my heart to my throat and tears to my eyes. Just reminded me of where I trust God and where I don't. OUCH.

Oh, and here's the last thing I thought of in all this. I'm really hoping there's not damage at all, but since it's under the car it's not easily seen and it could be something like knocking the oil pan loose or something that would cause a slow leak and not reveal the real damage until later. Thinking about that made me go back to living love. Many, many times we choose to live out of self instead of out of love and the damage we do isn't always evident right away. But thankfully just like that slow leak could be fixed, God has a fix for us. I Peter 4:8 says this: "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins."

So, um beware of stuff in the road, yeah.

Beautiful to Me

My friend Margy asked me to write a devotion for the prayer room at church. Here's what I wrote for tomorrow. It's based on Isaiah 53:1-12.

1Who has believed our message and to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed? 2 He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. 3 He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. 4 Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted.
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. 6 We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. 7 He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth. 8 By oppression and judgment he was taken away. And who can speak of his descendants? For he was cut off from the land of the living; for the transgression of my people he was stricken. 9 He was assigned a grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death, though he had done no violence, nor was any deceit in his mouth.
10 Yet it was the LORD's will to crush him and cause him to suffer, and though the LORD makes his life a guilt offering, he will see his offspring and prolong his days, and the will of the LORD will prosper in his hand. 11 After the suffering of his soul, he will see the light of life and be satisfied; by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many, and he will bear their iniquities. 12 Therefore I will give him a portion among the great, and he will divide the spoils with the strong, because he poured out his life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors. For he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.

Our society is obsessed with physical beauty. We can buy a salve or a serum or a surgery to create or recreate the look we want. Every major network morning talk show has segments on how to dress, what to eat, what to buy or even how to stand to look more beautiful. The red carpet has become our altar. We are all about wearing the right clothes, having the right hair cut and hiding those unsightly bags under our eyes.

Even our artistic depictions of Jesus are guilty of this obsession. Most show him as a handsome man with striking eyes, perfect skin and gorgeous flowing hair. But according to Isaiah, those depictions are just plain wrong. Isaiah 53:2b says, “He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.” So in all likelihood Jesus looked NOTHING like Jim Caviezel.

Jesus did not have those movie star good looks. More likely he had those bags under his eyes from sleeping on the ground night after night and his skin was dry and cracked from standing under the baking Middle Eastern sun, he probably smelled of sweat and sheep. When people of his day looked on Jesus, they were not awed by his external beauty. They were awed by something else, something that many were drawn to, but still others were offended by. “ 3 He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” Isaiah 53:3

They were looking at the Son of the living God, the one who was sent to seek that what was lost. Yet so many did not see his beauty or understand his purpose. “ 4 Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted.” Isaiah 53:4.

Yet this man in whom no one saw anything beautiful did the most beautiful thing of all. Jesus lived out his own words in John 15: 13, “13Greater love has no one than this that he lay down his life for his friends.”

Pray that you have the courage to take your eyes off yourself and all those images that bombard you of beauty and seek the true beauty of a life lived for Christ and others.

Pray that your every day life would be a reflection of the creator of all beauty.

My Attempt at Artistry

Here's some pics I took of snow this morning. My attempt at being a visual artist. But God is the true artist.

Life in the process

This morning I read my friend Molly's blog and it was just exactly what I was going to write about, the sermon I heard in church yesterday. So kudos to Molly for beating me to it!

Todd is preaching a series called "Greater Things" and he's basing it off of the book "Wild Goose Chase" by Mark Batterson. Yesterday he talked about "The Cage of Assumptions" and the story of Abraham. He pointed out that God made Abraham a promise to make him a father of a great nation, when he was 75. But Abraham didn't see a payoff until he was 100 years old. You can do the math, that's a long time. In fact, that's about as old as my friend Molly is.

For me the promise that I cling to is that God will give me the desires of my heart. There's a lot of specifics wrapped up in that promise for me. You can extrapolate your own I'm sure. I think I've seen pieces of that promise fulfilled and probably won't see others till I see Him face to face. But for a big part of it, I'm still in that waiting. The majority of our lives are spent waiting. For me it seems like all my life has been spent waiting.

That waiting time Todd called that time "the process". The humbling revelation I had was that sometimes we cling to the promises and yearn for payoff but we struggle and squirm in the process instead of resting and trusting. It's in that process that we can get sidetracked by our feelings, our agenda and our disbelief. However we really live if we live by faith in the midst of the process. It's in the process that God teaches us. It's in the process that God reminds us that he loves us. It's in the process that we ask questions and grow. It's in the process that we see a picture bigger than what our eyes can see.

Right now I am definitely "in the process". Being single, being unemployed, having cancer are definitely not all part of those promised "desires of my heart," that I talked about. But unlike other times in my process I've been able to rest and trust. I wish I could tell you why and how other than prayers of many and the presence of the Holy Spirit. Believe me, I've struggled and squirmed some but so far God has been able to quiet those assumptions and remind me of His truth. One of the great things about God is that even when we lose sight of Him, He never loses sight of us. He picks us up and puts us back on the track of faith when we fall off. It's my prayer that in this process time that I really live.

And the Oscar goes to...

I'm a big movie buff. I watch all kinds of movies, romance, drama, comedy, thriller. Neflix is the best thing since sliced bread for me. Case in point, I spent Sunday afternoon watching a strange film about an Eskimo called "The Map o f the Human Heart." I did shut it off because the directing was so horrible and I just couldn't keep watching though. I have to admit that I have daydreamed about winning an Oscar,who would be my date and what I would say.

I watched the Oscars last night with my friend Dawn. Here are my impressions.

I thought Hugh Jackman was very charming and fun as the host. I knew he was quite a singer, but man can he dance too! No wonder he was the sexiest man alive last year. I laughed a lot at the opening number, but maybe mostly because I've made sets out of PVC and cardboard.

I was a little sad that Michelle Williams was not at the awards with the Ledger family. I hope it was her choice and not because of hard feelings. And I felt bad for Michael Shannon, Josh Brolin, Robert Downey Jr, and Philip Seymour Hoffman cause they didn't stand a chance.

I was not surprised that Slumdog Millionaire won winning so many awards. It was a wonderful story with just enough sadness and edge to make it something that the academy would like. I guess I just wonder what if any impact the film will have on what people (including me) will do about India. The fact that they brought as many of the cast to the awards as they could was so very cool.


I liked how they used 5 former winners to present awards. It was wonderful to watch Cuba Gooding Jr give Robert Downey Jr a hard time and to hear Shirley McLaine give Anne Hathaway a heart felt piece of encouragement.

I think that the little boys that played in Slumdog Millionaire should have been chosen as best actor not Sean Penn.

Mickey Rourke. I'm glad that he's made a comeback, but how Hollywood of them to laud him now and kick him when he was down.

My favorite dresses: Natalie Portman, Freida Pinto, Anne Hathaway.

So that's some of what I thought...you have anything to say?

Hey...vote!

Hey all 6 of you out there! Vote on Best Picture! I'm curious to see what you think. I'll tell you what I think after Saturday and the all day Best Picture Marathon I'm going to. Or, maybe you think once again the best picture got overlooked. Comment and tell me!

Whatcha reading?

I love to read. I usually have a couple things going at a time. Lately, I use it to distract me while I'm on the eliptical. It keeps me from thinking, "30 more minutes, 29 more minutes, 28 more minutes." So I was wondering what you're reading.

Here's what I'm reading:

Recently finished

"Outliers" by Malcolm Gladwell. His theories on why some people are successful and others are not. It's been the source of several interesting conversations.

"Testimony" by Anita Shreve. Disturbing look at a sex scandal at a private school in New Hampshire.

"Healing Stones" by Nancy Rue. This is her series that she co-wrote with Steve Arteburn where one of the main characters is a counselor. In this one he's dealing with a female college professor who gets caught in an affair.

Reading Now
"Sarah's Key" by Tatiana de Rosnay. This story is told from a modern day and a historical perspective about the French police Vel’ d’Hiv’ roundup of Jews in 1942. Told in tandem by an American reporter and a young Jewish girl.

"Wild Goose Chase" by Mark Batterson. I actually started this book before Todd made it a "must read" at church.

"The 4:8 Principle" by Tommy Newberry. About the power that Philippians 4:8 can bring into your life as you live it.

On Deck:

"Nineteen Minutes" by Jodi Piccoult
"Savannah" by John Jakes
"Fame" by Karen Kingsbury
"Sex God" Rob Bell

To answer your question

So this weekend the Student Ministry at our church had their annual Elevation Weekend. We bring in a speaker and a band and the kids get to hang out with their friends and a college leader at homes of people in the church (brave people....actually blessed people) . This year's theme is Stripped Away and it centered on the life of Job.

For those of you who don't know the story, Job was someone who may have been considered God's favorite. He was a righteous man and a blessed man. So, Satan and God had a conversation about Job. Satan was certain that if everything was stripped away from Job that he would curse God. So, God let Satan have his way with Job. One by one all the things of value in Job's life were taken. His livelihood, his possessions, his family, his health were all pulled out from under him. And Job fell into despair. At first he handled it ok, but after a while it got under his skin and he started questioning God in a most demanding way. At that point God stepped in and made it very clear who He was and who Job was not.

I certainly can relate to Job. I'm definitely not saying that I am God's favorite or that I'm righteous. But I've had my share of suffering. My story in a nutshell is this, my dad died when I was in 7th grade, my sisters both died of breast cancer before I graduated from college, my mom died in 2001. About three years ago I thought I was going to be married and he dumped me and left me with a huge amount of debt that I incurred while he was unemployed. Within the past five months, I found my job ending, was diagnosed with cancer, had a hysterectomy and now am undergoing radiation. I'd say Stripped Away describes it.

Both Keith the speaker and Jenny the lead singer of the band asked me the same question and I don't know if I sufficiently answered it. "How is it that you're not angry?" I have to say that I have no answers to the big question of "why" but anger is not what I feel. Confusion yes. Fear sometimes. Despair occassionally. I went through a ton of anger at God and everyone surrounding the dumping incident, so much so that it stole my joy. I was miserable and miserable to be around. If I wasn't crying I was stewing and storming. Off to counseling I went. And it's been a ton of work and a ton of prayer, but the angry went away. When the job ended, the anger started to resurface. When the diagnosis came I knew that I did not want to turn back into that person that I had become as a result of the dumping and so I chose surrender instead of control. Keith said something tonight about the difference between asking God questions and demanding answers. When I got dumped, I demanded answers and it brought me nothing but misery because I don't think God heard me. (Now I have nothing Biblical to back that up, that just my explanation for the difference) But with this I have been asking questions and he has answered me not with the whys but with an immense outpouring of love, tons of peace and unspeakable joy.

Now, I'm just hopeful that God will do for me as he did for Job. Job received all that he had taken away 10 fold. But just like one of my favorite songs says, "there will be an end to these troubles but until that day comes, still I will praise you."

At least that's my answer today. I pray that it continues to be.

Valentine's Day

So, tomorrow is Valentine's Day. I used to really, really hate this holiday. As a single lady (do you hear Beyonce in your head when you read that phrase? I do) I used to hate being the only one in the office who didn't get flowers on Valentine's day. When I was in school, I never got those carnations that they used to sell (do they still do that in high school?) And I used to just be miserable, bemoaning the fact that I didn't have a boyfriend. But I think the fact that the only time I got a Valentine's gift I had to give the guy the money to go buy for me it sort of put a pale on the whole thing. Maybe someday I'll meet a guy who can afford to buy me something nice, I certainly wouldn't turn it down, but if not, I'm okay with that too. I guess I've entered into a sort of truce with this holiday. It exists but I don't have to let it affect me. Now, I say that this year, let's hope that's where I stay.

Thankfully, I don't need a holiday to know that I am loved. I have two brothers who are wonderful in their unique ways. Certainly in the past 5 months since my diagnosis and my treatment, I have felt more loved than I am pretty sure I deserve. I have received gifts, cards, meals, evenings out, calls and so many other things that were expressions of love to me. But the most precious thing I have received over these months has been prayer. When people tell you, "We pray for you every night," and you see the sincerity in their eyes, that is love and that is humbling.

I'm in study of Romans right now, in it is the most powerful truth about love. Romans 5:8 says, "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." That's a love that isn't based off how popular I am or how pretty I am or how successful I am. Here is a holy and perfect God not forgetting we're a sinful mess but sending Christ to die to take care of our sinful mess. That's love. That's hope. That's joy. That's peace. That's better than any box of chocolates, roses, or Valentine I could ever get.

Radiation and such

So, I'm on day 10 of radiation treatments. So far, so good as the saying goes. It's amazing how routine it quickly becomes. I've been pretty free of side effects, other than I think it's affecting my brain, I swear. I've become even more forgetful! Case in point, last Tuesday I was clothes shopping since I had a job interview and none of my clothes fit. (both of those are fodder for other posts) I had on my favorite purple Sarah Palinesque glasses, the one I have on in this pic. Well somewhere between Ross and Kohls and Shoppers (had to get groceries too) I lost them. Here's the bad part, the part that makes me think this whole radiation thing is messing with my brain. I didn't notice that I didn't have them until the next morning when I was getting ready to leave the house for the SECOND time that day. AUGH! Then a couple days later I was headed to breakfast with a friend and started to go to a completely different restaurant than we had agreed on. I completely lost the first little card that the give you to check in with (yes, it's just like going to the gym, just scan your card) and I thought I lost the second one, but found it. So, if you ask me to do something and I blow you off, it's probably not you, it's my brain.

The other thing that I've taken to doing while I lay on the table and look at the landscape scene they have on the ceiling is praying for the people that are working on me. Of course, I didn't take to doing that until like day three. So if you've got a couple free minutes today around 12:30 and want to join me in praying for them, that would be great. Kristen, Ryan, Brian, Monica, Barbara, Dr. Gonzalez, Pam and...of course my radiation brain is slipping on the last one.

I got a bill from the hospital yesterday for my treatments. Holy heck! The bill I got goes only through my first two treatments. Everyone take a deep breath...$36,412. That's like a BMW or a year's salary. Maybe that's what my doctor will buy when he's done with all this. No wonder people go into bankruptcy over medical bills. I was very relieved when it said at the bottom of the bill pay this amount $0. Thank you God for insurance, though I know it won't cover 100% at least I won't have to sell my first born. (Oh that's right, I don't have a uterus anymore, so that's not an option!)

Here We Go Steelers, Here We Go!

So I watched the Super Bowl tonight...and the Steelers won! They certainly gave me cause to get nervous and when I get nervous, I bake! Don't ask me what I'm going to do with those cookies, but I took my first swipe at home made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.



I'm not a huge sports watcher. I'm a sports fan, I appreciate great sport whether it's football or gymnastics or biathalon (yeah that was the sport I did a report on in 10th grade English). In fact, I usually avoid watching games because I tend to watch the games where my team gets killed (this year's Rose Bowl a prime example) But tonight it we won and I actually watched the game. It was close, but the Steelers won their 6th SuperBowl.



I grew up in Pittsburgh during the 70's. Steel Curtain, Franco's Italian Army, Rocky Bleier, Terry Bradshaw and Chuck Noll. My brothers, uncles, cousins, friends, neighbors were HUGE Steeler Fans. I think I watched my share of football as a kid.



Anyway, my biggest point in writing this is I found out that Mike Tomlin, the coach of the Steelers and protege of Tony Dungee is a Christian. And he attends the church that my college roommate's husband ist the youth pastor at! So, I'm still about as far removed from him as I was before I found that out, but I just thought it was a cool thing.



Check out this article on him:



http://www.bpnews.net/bpnews.asp?id=29752&ref=BPNews-RSSFeed0129



I'm happy for the people of Pittsburgh that the Steelers won their sixth SuperBowl. I'm even happier that a man of integrity is leading them.

What was that noise?

So for those of you who don't know, I was recently diagnosed with cancer, endometrial cancer. My clue you may ask? Well, a 13 day long period had something to do with it. Thankfully my doctor disagreed with me when I thought it might just be "the change" coming. After all, I am 44. It was pretty scary to hear that you have cancer, especially for someone who has felt like it was chasing her most of her life. (I had two sisters that died of breast cancer at young ages). But I chose to not let it scare me out of action, so in December I had a hysterectomy. Standard procedure they say. It was a big step seeing as I've never had kids. But again, at 44, what was the likelihood of THAT??



They got all the cancer, but it was decided that I should go through radiation treatments. The doctor said it was prophylactic. It took all I had in me not to laugh when he used that word. I mean it's not every day that a 44 year old virgin has that word used in her presence. I mean, I know what he meant, but really, couldn't he used preventative instead? Of course, the doctor didn't know that much about me, so he wouldn't have gotten it. And of course my older brother was in the room too, he really wouldn't have understood my amusement.



Well, I started treatments this week finally. The whole process is way complicated, which I guess is a good thing when they are shooting radiation at your body. (Isn't that the same stuff that everyone freaked out about when Three Mile Island nearly melted down when I was a kid...just kidding) They make you go for three pre-treatment appointments. One to meet the doctor and have him tell you they are doing radiation (duh) and one for them to aim the machine. They use lasers and cat scan machines and the high techology of sharpies to mark where they are going to shoot. They make a form to keep you in the same position everytime. They also put tiny freckly tattoos on your body. Me, who swore that I'd never get a tattoo because of the possibility of it turning from something cool looking to something scary when I was old. What I don't get is at the last session they mark you again with the sharpies. I've discovered that my hips are really ticklish.



I've also discovered that there's no room in all of this for modesty. I mean, they try, they really do, but honestly, what good does a piece of cloth the side of a paper towel do?? I mean even Tarzan got a loin cloth! I won't even talk about the lovely gowns they give you in the hospital.



Back to treatment and the reason for the title. So finally on Thursday, I started the actual zapping. I have to thank my friend Larry W for the use of that word. (We must pray for Larry, he's going through much more serious treatment than I am. I appreciate his sense of humor for referring to the zapping doctor and poison doctor though) However, I must take credit for the development of the adjective and adverb form. Zapilicious and zapiliciously. A friend asked me how it went after my first treatment and for lack of a describer, I said "zaplicious?"

They put you in a room with the big ugly machine that they even refer to as RoboCop and have you (in my case anyway) lay down with your lower section exposed. (Like I said, no room for modesty) RoboCop moves all around you and I kid you not, literally makes a zapping noise. The first time I thought it was a hum, but no, it's definitely a zap. You can imagine what I was thinking the first time it happened, I mean I saw that movie in the 80's about the nuclear holocaust. What was that thing called, anyone remember? So it zaps me all the way around, seven different angles, two times each angle. That's a lot of radiation I would think. Guess that's why they take your reproductive organs BEFORE they do this. Though maybe I could have had a "Hero" if they'd kept it all in there, you know a maybe I would have had a new Peter Petrelli.

That noise, it definitely was a zap and hopefully it was the noise that will eventually put all this mess behind me.