I started an entry a couple days ago. Revised it yesterday morning. It just sounded like a bad email about what’s been happening in my life. It wasn’t really “poor me” but it wasn’t much better.
Here are the high points:
-Wednesday was a hard day (physically) at work for me and also for Nelson (Asher wanted to do his shrilly scream all day) so we got a way and went for Mexican for dinner.
-Thursday Nelson decided to go buy a new lawn mower (because Wednesday evening it would start).
-Friday Beth mowed the yard with the new mower. Guess she decided not to let me have the maiden voyage like she did with the washer and dryer (lol).
-The lawn mower is my Mother’s Day present. (giggles to herself, since her birthday present was the washer and dryer)
Yesterday at work I got so greasy dirty that I wasn’t sure I’d come clean. Our company purchased (as is) 5 machines from a company in Tennessee. The ‘as is’ was that that they were completely greasy, grimy messes and in many pieces. I jumped in with the power sprayer and not only got totally greasy and gross, but also soaked. You know you’re a mess (and quite comical) when someone at work threatens to get a camera to take a picture, but then when you get home your husband does.
It was dirty work but it was fun in a weird sort of way. I’m going to do the same thing on Monday. So Friday I spent about 4 hours steam cleaning and I’ll be doing at least the same. That’s eight plus hours in a steam room. This should be good for my skin or weight or something shouldn’t it?
Right now I’m at Annie’s. I got here last night. It was so fun to play with Penelope. She’s jabbering away. Caden is growing so quickly. Today we’re going garage saling in her little town—the whole community has their sales on the same day. And then this afternoon we’re going to a Victorian tea at her church. She’s quite excited to have me see her new church and meet some of her new friends. It just makes my heart smile.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Listening
As I said in my previous post, I was totally buoyed and saturated. The theme for the conference was “Contagious Joy.” I caught that for sure. But what else?
Going to conferences is typically very difficult for me. I am a public speaker, a communicator. I have great difficulty staying focused, so I speak to others with that in mind. I work hard to read an audience to be sure that they’re with me. And I get a lot of positive feedback when I speak and teach.
I guess that is why I am having such a hard time these days. I’m not doing and even farther from being who my gifts make me. And some days, I just don’t have enough hope to see it ever happening again. I’m not trying to beat a dead horse—this is just the battle of my heart.
So I sat in this conference, fully believing that it was no accident that I was there; open to anything that would speak to me and my situation. I heard a lot—some of it I even wrote down.
Interestingly, on Thursday morning someone walked up to me at the factory and asked me how I was—simple question. Their next question was: what would you like to be doing? This guy knows my story, knows where I’ve been, knows what I’ve been, and knows what I would like to be doing. He then went on to describe a possible scenario and how I might fit into it—and be able to utilize my gifts and abilities. There definitely was an appeal, but reality came thudding back into my mind—nothing is probably going to come of this.
One thought that was oft repeated came from Patsy Claremont. She kept admonishing us to be willing to take the next step. Now, I have believed that I am always ready for the next step—when I know what it is and have been able to carefully research it. I don’t think I would have been at the front of the line there at the Jordan River “ready” to get my toes wet. For those of you less familiar with the story: that’s how the children of Israel got into the Promised Land. They stood there on the bank. The river was rushing by, full and fast. Got told them to get on over. It wasn’t until they stepped into the water that it parted, enabling them to cross.
So this morning I’m awake at 4:00. I’m on cleaning detail at work. We have worked far ahead on orders and there isn’t any manufacturing work to do. Monday I buffed the break room floor and did some data entry. Yesterday I scrubbed a machine—I have the bruises and skinned knee to prove I really got into the task. I’m feeling sort of superfluous. Lay-offs are a distinct possibility and because D is now trained in my old job and quite good at a few more than me, I feel that I’m a pretty prime target for the old pink slip.
I’m trying to prepare myself for this. I’m trying to be okay with it. I’m not doing very well. Being unnecessary isn’t easy for me. What’s the next step in all this? I’m going to go in and pack up all my personal belongings to bring home. But then what?
Yesterday I met with the director of volunteers at church. She’s looking for someone to do some writing of study guides for small group leaders. The guides flow with the text for the message on Sunday. I’m very interested in this. I would have more time to write if I wasn’t scrubbing big machines. Does a lay-off free me up to write more? Is that the next step?
My ducks are not in a row. In fact, they’re running willy-nilly everywhere. Oddly, I’m not scrambling to pull them all in. I’m sort of just sitting still and watching them run. They’re awfully cute out there just playing. Getting comfortable and okay with not controlling everything just isn’t easy.
So that’s where I am. It feels a bit like nowhere. I like that word. It’s not only “no where”, it’s also “now here.” And I guess that’s where I am: present but not certain of what that means or where that is. But here. Looking. Listening. Ready to take the next step.
Going to conferences is typically very difficult for me. I am a public speaker, a communicator. I have great difficulty staying focused, so I speak to others with that in mind. I work hard to read an audience to be sure that they’re with me. And I get a lot of positive feedback when I speak and teach.
I guess that is why I am having such a hard time these days. I’m not doing and even farther from being who my gifts make me. And some days, I just don’t have enough hope to see it ever happening again. I’m not trying to beat a dead horse—this is just the battle of my heart.
So I sat in this conference, fully believing that it was no accident that I was there; open to anything that would speak to me and my situation. I heard a lot—some of it I even wrote down.
Interestingly, on Thursday morning someone walked up to me at the factory and asked me how I was—simple question. Their next question was: what would you like to be doing? This guy knows my story, knows where I’ve been, knows what I’ve been, and knows what I would like to be doing. He then went on to describe a possible scenario and how I might fit into it—and be able to utilize my gifts and abilities. There definitely was an appeal, but reality came thudding back into my mind—nothing is probably going to come of this.
One thought that was oft repeated came from Patsy Claremont. She kept admonishing us to be willing to take the next step. Now, I have believed that I am always ready for the next step—when I know what it is and have been able to carefully research it. I don’t think I would have been at the front of the line there at the Jordan River “ready” to get my toes wet. For those of you less familiar with the story: that’s how the children of Israel got into the Promised Land. They stood there on the bank. The river was rushing by, full and fast. Got told them to get on over. It wasn’t until they stepped into the water that it parted, enabling them to cross.
So this morning I’m awake at 4:00. I’m on cleaning detail at work. We have worked far ahead on orders and there isn’t any manufacturing work to do. Monday I buffed the break room floor and did some data entry. Yesterday I scrubbed a machine—I have the bruises and skinned knee to prove I really got into the task. I’m feeling sort of superfluous. Lay-offs are a distinct possibility and because D is now trained in my old job and quite good at a few more than me, I feel that I’m a pretty prime target for the old pink slip.
I’m trying to prepare myself for this. I’m trying to be okay with it. I’m not doing very well. Being unnecessary isn’t easy for me. What’s the next step in all this? I’m going to go in and pack up all my personal belongings to bring home. But then what?
Yesterday I met with the director of volunteers at church. She’s looking for someone to do some writing of study guides for small group leaders. The guides flow with the text for the message on Sunday. I’m very interested in this. I would have more time to write if I wasn’t scrubbing big machines. Does a lay-off free me up to write more? Is that the next step?
My ducks are not in a row. In fact, they’re running willy-nilly everywhere. Oddly, I’m not scrambling to pull them all in. I’m sort of just sitting still and watching them run. They’re awfully cute out there just playing. Getting comfortable and okay with not controlling everything just isn’t easy.
So that’s where I am. It feels a bit like nowhere. I like that word. It’s not only “no where”, it’s also “now here.” And I guess that’s where I am: present but not certain of what that means or where that is. But here. Looking. Listening. Ready to take the next step.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Joy-filled
The week was going by as it typically would: I was working hard, feeling physically exhausted and bruised all over. On Wednesday, I mentioned to our receptionist that I wished I had known who was going to the Women of Faith conference from our Sunday School class because I would have really enjoyed that.
Well, it turns out that one of the group had seriously injured her foot and would not be going. I told her to find out how much it was going to cost and maybe I would be able to go. Next thing I knew, she came to me and told me that everything was covered and they wanted me to go. It was no problem getting the day off since we’re ahead on orders.
So we left for Columbus after work on Thursday. All day Friday we attended at pre-conference session where Patsy Claremont was the main speaker and Sandi Patty did some of the speaking and all of the music. It was awesome!!!
Friday night and all day Saturday was the main conference. The speakers and the music were awesome. We were totally saturated and abundantly blessed.
We ate such good food. Thursday we ate at a place called Hoggies and it was some of the best barbque—mmmmm! Then for dinner on Friday we ate at a place just outside of Nationwide Arena called Boca di beppo—Italian! They serve the food family style. We got a really yummy spinach salad, spaghetti with meat sauce, and manicotti. That was the bestest manicotti I’ve ever had—it just melted in my mouth!
But even better than the food was the fellowship. I don’t think that I’ve ever felt more immediately accepted and included in an already existing group. We laughed and laughed. It felt so good. My joy meter was running pretty low. And being with these women buoyed my spirit completely.
So today was a real day of rest. I’m still basking in the joyfulness…now if the race would just stop being on a rain delay.
Well, it turns out that one of the group had seriously injured her foot and would not be going. I told her to find out how much it was going to cost and maybe I would be able to go. Next thing I knew, she came to me and told me that everything was covered and they wanted me to go. It was no problem getting the day off since we’re ahead on orders.
So we left for Columbus after work on Thursday. All day Friday we attended at pre-conference session where Patsy Claremont was the main speaker and Sandi Patty did some of the speaking and all of the music. It was awesome!!!
Friday night and all day Saturday was the main conference. The speakers and the music were awesome. We were totally saturated and abundantly blessed.
We ate such good food. Thursday we ate at a place called Hoggies and it was some of the best barbque—mmmmm! Then for dinner on Friday we ate at a place just outside of Nationwide Arena called Boca di beppo—Italian! They serve the food family style. We got a really yummy spinach salad, spaghetti with meat sauce, and manicotti. That was the bestest manicotti I’ve ever had—it just melted in my mouth!
But even better than the food was the fellowship. I don’t think that I’ve ever felt more immediately accepted and included in an already existing group. We laughed and laughed. It felt so good. My joy meter was running pretty low. And being with these women buoyed my spirit completely.
So today was a real day of rest. I’m still basking in the joyfulness…now if the race would just stop being on a rain delay.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Musical Upgrade
I need guidance, suggestions, help, and technological wisdom.
I've been listening to my CD player at work...I think I've mentioned that a couple times recently. Anyway, I've been cramming the player in my pocket and working hard to keep the earplug chords on my back so that they don't get tangled up in the machinary that I'm working on.
It's not easy or comfortable. I'm changing CD's with unclean hands and changing them way more often than I'd like to be.
So, I've started considering moving into the 21c. What would you recommend? Now keep in mind I'm technologically challenged and have some limits within my budget.
What do you use? What do you wish you had?
Can you help me here?
I've been listening to my CD player at work...I think I've mentioned that a couple times recently. Anyway, I've been cramming the player in my pocket and working hard to keep the earplug chords on my back so that they don't get tangled up in the machinary that I'm working on.
It's not easy or comfortable. I'm changing CD's with unclean hands and changing them way more often than I'd like to be.
So, I've started considering moving into the 21c. What would you recommend? Now keep in mind I'm technologically challenged and have some limits within my budget.
What do you use? What do you wish you had?
Can you help me here?
Musical Upgrade
I need guidance, suggestions, help, and technological wisdom.
I've been listening to my CD player at work...I think I've mentioned that a couple times recently. Anyway, I've been cramming the player in my pocket and working hard to keep the earplug chords on my back so that they don't get tangled up in the machinary that I'm working on.
It's not easy or comfortable. I'm changing CD's with unclean hands and changing them way more often than I'd like to be.
So, I've started considering moving into the 21c. What would you recommend? Now keep in mind I'm technologically challenged and have some limits within my budget.
What do you use? What do you wish you had?
Can you help me here?
I've been listening to my CD player at work...I think I've mentioned that a couple times recently. Anyway, I've been cramming the player in my pocket and working hard to keep the earplug chords on my back so that they don't get tangled up in the machinary that I'm working on.
It's not easy or comfortable. I'm changing CD's with unclean hands and changing them way more often than I'd like to be.
So, I've started considering moving into the 21c. What would you recommend? Now keep in mind I'm technologically challenged and have some limits within my budget.
What do you use? What do you wish you had?
Can you help me here?
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Purring and Emmaus
It’s been a good day.
I was purring earlier…I’m sure of it. Nelson got the mower running so I mowed the yard. It was getting so long I was going to need a tractor to make the first cutting and some kind of bailer.
Then I made a wonderful fruit salad in the afternoon. We took down the ramp we had put up for Nelson after his accident. And Nelson purchased my ticket for me to go visit my Mom in Arizona. I’m going to leave on May 27 and come home on June 3. That will give us a full week of Scrabble!
Now I’m watching the race and flipping over to catch the score of the baseball game.
I got a call from Pastor a little bit ago and his first question was: How flexible are you? First he asked me to prepare a monologue, then he said we might be able to use it due some other things that were needing to be in the service (I was way okay with that…I know how important it is to be flexible), then he emailed me yesterday and said that we were going to use it. I’m completely flexible.
The thing that is causing the need for all this flexibility has to do with a presentation of a service project. The week before Easter our congregation reached out to a family in our community and did an Extreme Makeover of their home. We called it “Extreme Renewal.” It was an awesome thing. So many people within the congregation and the community gave so much in time, talent, and support. In the service there’s going to be a video presentation and a time for participants to share. That’s the part that may bump the monologue—it’s just next to impossible to figure out who and how many may want to share.
So here’s the plan. We’re going to play the 8:30 service by ear, but it probably isn’t going to happen. The crowd is much smaller in the 9:30 is much smaller so there may be less sharing, but Pastor wasn’t sure. The 11:00 service is much more traditional and the pastor who headed up the project (the paper did a piece on the project and called him “the Ty Pennington of Extreme Renewal) has to head over to the Alternative Worship Time in the other building so he probably won’t take as long. So this service will probably be the one I’ll make the presentation—if I do it at all. Just call me Gumby.
Now here’s the monologue (it’s from Luke 24:13-35 and comes from the perspective of Cleopas’ wife):
What a day. My feet ache. I’m so tired, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.
First, it seemed so hopeless. There was such sadness and confusion among the followers of Jesus. We had such hope. We believed he was the one. But then came the cross. And he was gone.
Then this morning there were strange reports by some of the women. They said they had gone to the tomb and found it empty. It was said that Mary saw Jesus. That he talked to her. Peter reported it too. But it was so hard to understand. Our hearts were so torn…it was just too much. Cleopas said that we should just come home. So we did.
As we walked, we talked. Really I talked and talked. Cleopas says I chatter. I do that sometimes when I’m distressed. I couldn’t help it. I just wanted to know why. Why did the master have to leave us? Why wasn’t he the one to free us? Why did it end this way? Why would the women make up such a story? Why, why, why? There I go again…(deep breath).
So while we were walking and I was talking, this man walked up beside us. It nearly scared me to death. You just don’t do that. These aren’t safe days. And to just interrupt our conversation like he did was rude.
What we couldn’t believe was the question that he asked. What were we talking about? What else? Cleopas’ response was almost as rude as the stranger’s question: have you been sleeping under a rock these last three days? Cleopas told him that we were talking about Jesus, who was a prophet, and whom we had hoped would free us.
Now what came next had a strange tugging at my heart. The stranger became somewhat rude. He called us foolish and used Cleopas’ own word, saying that we were slow to believe all that the prophets had taught. Then he talked us through the scriptures showing us how Jesus truly was the fulfillment of all the promises.
By that time we arrived at the house. Cleopas is so generous; he invited the stranger to stay with us and have something to eat. He wanted to hear more. I did too, but I was tired and we hadn’t been home. I didn’t know what there was to eat.
I put some bread out and a few other things. The stranger took the bread, lifted it to toward heaven and as he blessed it and broke it---we had seen him break the bread that fed the thousands. We had seen him break bread with the disciples…It was Jesus—but just as his name was about to come to our lips---he was gone.
He disappeared. It was Jesus. That’s why my heart was so moved as he talked of the promises. Cleoplas and I stood there for a moment and then we both headed for the door. We ran all the way back to Jerusalem. It was as if we were Elijah running from Mt. Carmel after witnessing the power of God.
When we got there we found the followers. We were so excited to tell them that we had seen Jesus. We had talked with him. The women were right. He had appeared to Peter too.
I felt badly that my despair had kept me from recognizing the Master. As I looked into his eyes all my questions seem to fall with the crumbs as he broke the bread. He walked with us and talked with us. He is alive and he wants us to know that he really did come to set us free.
I was purring earlier…I’m sure of it. Nelson got the mower running so I mowed the yard. It was getting so long I was going to need a tractor to make the first cutting and some kind of bailer.
Then I made a wonderful fruit salad in the afternoon. We took down the ramp we had put up for Nelson after his accident. And Nelson purchased my ticket for me to go visit my Mom in Arizona. I’m going to leave on May 27 and come home on June 3. That will give us a full week of Scrabble!
Now I’m watching the race and flipping over to catch the score of the baseball game.
I got a call from Pastor a little bit ago and his first question was: How flexible are you? First he asked me to prepare a monologue, then he said we might be able to use it due some other things that were needing to be in the service (I was way okay with that…I know how important it is to be flexible), then he emailed me yesterday and said that we were going to use it. I’m completely flexible.
The thing that is causing the need for all this flexibility has to do with a presentation of a service project. The week before Easter our congregation reached out to a family in our community and did an Extreme Makeover of their home. We called it “Extreme Renewal.” It was an awesome thing. So many people within the congregation and the community gave so much in time, talent, and support. In the service there’s going to be a video presentation and a time for participants to share. That’s the part that may bump the monologue—it’s just next to impossible to figure out who and how many may want to share.
So here’s the plan. We’re going to play the 8:30 service by ear, but it probably isn’t going to happen. The crowd is much smaller in the 9:30 is much smaller so there may be less sharing, but Pastor wasn’t sure. The 11:00 service is much more traditional and the pastor who headed up the project (the paper did a piece on the project and called him “the Ty Pennington of Extreme Renewal) has to head over to the Alternative Worship Time in the other building so he probably won’t take as long. So this service will probably be the one I’ll make the presentation—if I do it at all. Just call me Gumby.
Now here’s the monologue (it’s from Luke 24:13-35 and comes from the perspective of Cleopas’ wife):
What a day. My feet ache. I’m so tired, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.
First, it seemed so hopeless. There was such sadness and confusion among the followers of Jesus. We had such hope. We believed he was the one. But then came the cross. And he was gone.
Then this morning there were strange reports by some of the women. They said they had gone to the tomb and found it empty. It was said that Mary saw Jesus. That he talked to her. Peter reported it too. But it was so hard to understand. Our hearts were so torn…it was just too much. Cleopas said that we should just come home. So we did.
As we walked, we talked. Really I talked and talked. Cleopas says I chatter. I do that sometimes when I’m distressed. I couldn’t help it. I just wanted to know why. Why did the master have to leave us? Why wasn’t he the one to free us? Why did it end this way? Why would the women make up such a story? Why, why, why? There I go again…(deep breath).
So while we were walking and I was talking, this man walked up beside us. It nearly scared me to death. You just don’t do that. These aren’t safe days. And to just interrupt our conversation like he did was rude.
What we couldn’t believe was the question that he asked. What were we talking about? What else? Cleopas’ response was almost as rude as the stranger’s question: have you been sleeping under a rock these last three days? Cleopas told him that we were talking about Jesus, who was a prophet, and whom we had hoped would free us.
Now what came next had a strange tugging at my heart. The stranger became somewhat rude. He called us foolish and used Cleopas’ own word, saying that we were slow to believe all that the prophets had taught. Then he talked us through the scriptures showing us how Jesus truly was the fulfillment of all the promises.
By that time we arrived at the house. Cleopas is so generous; he invited the stranger to stay with us and have something to eat. He wanted to hear more. I did too, but I was tired and we hadn’t been home. I didn’t know what there was to eat.
I put some bread out and a few other things. The stranger took the bread, lifted it to toward heaven and as he blessed it and broke it---we had seen him break the bread that fed the thousands. We had seen him break bread with the disciples…It was Jesus—but just as his name was about to come to our lips---he was gone.
He disappeared. It was Jesus. That’s why my heart was so moved as he talked of the promises. Cleoplas and I stood there for a moment and then we both headed for the door. We ran all the way back to Jerusalem. It was as if we were Elijah running from Mt. Carmel after witnessing the power of God.
When we got there we found the followers. We were so excited to tell them that we had seen Jesus. We had talked with him. The women were right. He had appeared to Peter too.
I felt badly that my despair had kept me from recognizing the Master. As I looked into his eyes all my questions seem to fall with the crumbs as he broke the bread. He walked with us and talked with us. He is alive and he wants us to know that he really did come to set us free.
What does your birthdate mean?
Ok, sometimes I do this things for fun. Sometimes there's stuff in them that applies to me. I have never taken one where it was so spot on that I sat there speechless...until now.
Here's what it said:
So here's what blew me away:
1. I'm extremely idealistic.
2. I'm an extrovert that does need to be around others. Though, I am finding that I also like the quiet of being alone.
3. My fixation on changing the world one person at a time was what drew me to Chaplaincy ministry and ultimately was my undoing...I crusade causes and sometimes see people as cause to crusade. Ick.
4. I wish I had a dollar for every time someone told me that I was easy to talk to or that they had never told that to anyone before. I wouldn't ever need to work again. Sigh.
5. Flexible--hah! I've so often said that I'm so flexible you should call me Gumby.
6. I hate my penchant for the dramatic.
7. What I could tell you about green...oh my!
8. The circle. I could write a book here and probably could. I came to embrace this symbol as a fundamental teaching tool about the balance of life and faith. I teach from it, preach from it, and refer to it all the time.
9. I don't know about September, but I may consider it!
Now here's a weird thing about this: Remeber the guy I work with who was making me crazy and who I finally decided I couldn't work with and wouldn't work for? That guy has the same birthdate as me.
Well, enough of that. The day is already slipping away and I want to suck the life out of every moment! TTFN
Here's what it said:
| Your Birthdate: April 9 |
 Your strength: Your go-with-the-flow flexibility Your weakness: Your flair for the over dramatic Your power color: Pine green Your power symbol: Circle Your power month: September |
What Does Your Birth Date Mean?
So here's what blew me away:
1. I'm extremely idealistic.
2. I'm an extrovert that does need to be around others. Though, I am finding that I also like the quiet of being alone.
3. My fixation on changing the world one person at a time was what drew me to Chaplaincy ministry and ultimately was my undoing...I crusade causes and sometimes see people as cause to crusade. Ick.
4. I wish I had a dollar for every time someone told me that I was easy to talk to or that they had never told that to anyone before. I wouldn't ever need to work again. Sigh.
5. Flexible--hah! I've so often said that I'm so flexible you should call me Gumby.
6. I hate my penchant for the dramatic.
7. What I could tell you about green...oh my!
8. The circle. I could write a book here and probably could. I came to embrace this symbol as a fundamental teaching tool about the balance of life and faith. I teach from it, preach from it, and refer to it all the time.
9. I don't know about September, but I may consider it!
Now here's a weird thing about this: Remeber the guy I work with who was making me crazy and who I finally decided I couldn't work with and wouldn't work for? That guy has the same birthdate as me.
Well, enough of that. The day is already slipping away and I want to suck the life out of every moment! TTFN
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Studdly Do Right
It’s Tuesday and for two days now I’ve been on the stud press machine. I have a few more aches and pains---okay, a lot more. My hands are sore and my right knee is aching quite a bit. But even still, I have a smile. I smile a lot more. I don’t have any idea what I’m doing tomorrow---it’s all an adventure!
I got an email from Pastor and here are the scriptures/themes he’s looking for monologues on:
***April 23 – The Two on the Road to Emmaus – Luke 224:13ff
April 30 – Jesus appears to the disciples and to Thomas – John 20:12-29
May 7 – Jesus with his disciples results in the great catch of fish – John 21:1-14 cf. Luke 5:1-11
***May 14 – Jesus restores Peter – John 21:15-24
***May 21 – Five times the risen Christ presents the Great Commission. Focus on them. This is Faith Promise Sunday.
May 28 – The risen Jesus Ascends into Heaven. Acts 1:1-11
***June 4 – This is Pentecost Sunday, so we’ll do Acts 2 to begin our year long journey through Acts
***June 11 – The continuing presence of the risen Christ in His Church – Rev. 1 (Jesus walking among the “candlesticks”)
I got this email this afternoon and I’ve been giving some thought to which texts I’m going to write on. I think I’m going to work with the ones that I put asterisks beside.
For Sunday, I’m going to do the monologue from the perspective of Cleopas’ wife. The biblical account of the Emmaus encounter with the risen Christ says that he comes upon two disciples and names one, Cleopas. The very fact that they don’t name the other makes me wonder if it might have been his wife---quite often women went nameless. So, she’s going to recount the story. I’ll share it with you when it’s all done.
I have a lot of ideas for Peter. I just want to be sure to get someone who can really present the piece dramatically---aka: not be afraid to cry. Nelson would do so wonderfully, but already told me that he couldn’t see himself hobbling up there.
For the piece on the 5 presentations of the Great Commission, I’m thinking of a reader’s theater—maybe.
Pentacost will be a recounting that comes from a woman in the crowed. And I don’t have a clue about the last one, but I’m sure it will stretch me.
This continues to be an exciting time for me. Maybe you caught that!
I got an email from Pastor and here are the scriptures/themes he’s looking for monologues on:
***April 23 – The Two on the Road to Emmaus – Luke 224:13ff
April 30 – Jesus appears to the disciples and to Thomas – John 20:12-29
May 7 – Jesus with his disciples results in the great catch of fish – John 21:1-14 cf. Luke 5:1-11
***May 14 – Jesus restores Peter – John 21:15-24
***May 21 – Five times the risen Christ presents the Great Commission. Focus on them. This is Faith Promise Sunday.
May 28 – The risen Jesus Ascends into Heaven. Acts 1:1-11
***June 4 – This is Pentecost Sunday, so we’ll do Acts 2 to begin our year long journey through Acts
***June 11 – The continuing presence of the risen Christ in His Church – Rev. 1 (Jesus walking among the “candlesticks”)
I got this email this afternoon and I’ve been giving some thought to which texts I’m going to write on. I think I’m going to work with the ones that I put asterisks beside.
For Sunday, I’m going to do the monologue from the perspective of Cleopas’ wife. The biblical account of the Emmaus encounter with the risen Christ says that he comes upon two disciples and names one, Cleopas. The very fact that they don’t name the other makes me wonder if it might have been his wife---quite often women went nameless. So, she’s going to recount the story. I’ll share it with you when it’s all done.
I have a lot of ideas for Peter. I just want to be sure to get someone who can really present the piece dramatically---aka: not be afraid to cry. Nelson would do so wonderfully, but already told me that he couldn’t see himself hobbling up there.
For the piece on the 5 presentations of the Great Commission, I’m thinking of a reader’s theater—maybe.
Pentacost will be a recounting that comes from a woman in the crowed. And I don’t have a clue about the last one, but I’m sure it will stretch me.
This continues to be an exciting time for me. Maybe you caught that!
Sunday, April 16, 2006
TIme For Change?
In A Welcome Field
He walks the furrowed row of earth scattering his seed,
Working all alone against the dust and the heat,
Looking to the distance and the acres left to sow,
Hoping for a harvest in each handful he throws.
Some will fall along the pathway
Where the root will not take’
Some the birds will steal;
Some will fall into the good ground
And flourish in the life found
In a welcome field.
The Father sows His Word like a farmer sows his seed;
It falls where hearts are hardened and gets choked by the weeds,
In places it will blossom and a crop of life will start
If the seeds of truth are planted deep in the heart.
Some will fall along the pathway,
Where the root will not take;
Some the birds will steal;
Some will fall into the good ground
And flourish in the life found
In a welcome field.
This was a rough week for me at work. Tuesday I wrote about some of my frustration. I deleted the entry because I just felt like a complainer, and I was afraid that the company eavesdropper might be lurking around the corner. Then I couldn’t believe it, but it got worse on Wednesday! I ended up writing a letter to Ed to formerly request a different placement. Then on Thursday and Friday I worked alone.
As much as I enjoy working with the folks in my workspace, there is one thing I definitely like about working alone. I grab my CD player and jam to the music I want to listen to. One of the CD’s I grabbed was a Fernando Ortega. I like his style and stuff.
Above is one of the songs I listened to by Ortega. I was so impressed by the song that I was very close to changing the name of my diary to Welcome Field. I have loved the parable of the soils. I was totally impacted by Godspell’s presentation of the story. I want to be the welcoming and producing soil. I have a lot to work on to make that real—but work I will.
On Thursday I started listening to some Josh Groban and then followed it with a CD I had gotten a while back but not listened to: The Best of Simon and Garfunkle. It was fun to listen to the "old" songs and remember where I was when the first came out (sure made me feel old). But another thing I realized was the strong impact those songs and those words had on my faith and my self-esteem. Wow.
So that had me thinking (especially in light of my Welcome Field thoughts...): what had I been doing to be a welcome field. As much as I enjoyed the trip down Memory Lane, I decided I needed a better musical diet, so I fed my spirit many more hours of praise-full music. And I noticed, quite clearly, a distinct shift in my mood and in my productivitiy--a change clearly for the good.
And on another note...at the end of worship service this morning Pastor came up to me and asked me if I was still interested in writing some monologues to be used as sermon helps. Interested? Abosolutely!!!! So he's going to give me some of the biblical characters that his sermons are going to focus on and I'm going to get busy! I'm so excited. This is going to be fun.
Oh, wait and one more really super thing happened today: one of my mostest favoritest professors taught our Sunday School class. I felt like a learner again. I've missed feeling that way. It's a good attitude to take into my new writing adventure!
How am I going to sleep tonight?
He walks the furrowed row of earth scattering his seed,
Working all alone against the dust and the heat,
Looking to the distance and the acres left to sow,
Hoping for a harvest in each handful he throws.
Some will fall along the pathway
Where the root will not take’
Some the birds will steal;
Some will fall into the good ground
And flourish in the life found
In a welcome field.
The Father sows His Word like a farmer sows his seed;
It falls where hearts are hardened and gets choked by the weeds,
In places it will blossom and a crop of life will start
If the seeds of truth are planted deep in the heart.
Some will fall along the pathway,
Where the root will not take;
Some the birds will steal;
Some will fall into the good ground
And flourish in the life found
In a welcome field.
This was a rough week for me at work. Tuesday I wrote about some of my frustration. I deleted the entry because I just felt like a complainer, and I was afraid that the company eavesdropper might be lurking around the corner. Then I couldn’t believe it, but it got worse on Wednesday! I ended up writing a letter to Ed to formerly request a different placement. Then on Thursday and Friday I worked alone.
As much as I enjoy working with the folks in my workspace, there is one thing I definitely like about working alone. I grab my CD player and jam to the music I want to listen to. One of the CD’s I grabbed was a Fernando Ortega. I like his style and stuff.
Above is one of the songs I listened to by Ortega. I was so impressed by the song that I was very close to changing the name of my diary to Welcome Field. I have loved the parable of the soils. I was totally impacted by Godspell’s presentation of the story. I want to be the welcoming and producing soil. I have a lot to work on to make that real—but work I will.
On Thursday I started listening to some Josh Groban and then followed it with a CD I had gotten a while back but not listened to: The Best of Simon and Garfunkle. It was fun to listen to the "old" songs and remember where I was when the first came out (sure made me feel old). But another thing I realized was the strong impact those songs and those words had on my faith and my self-esteem. Wow.
So that had me thinking (especially in light of my Welcome Field thoughts...): what had I been doing to be a welcome field. As much as I enjoyed the trip down Memory Lane, I decided I needed a better musical diet, so I fed my spirit many more hours of praise-full music. And I noticed, quite clearly, a distinct shift in my mood and in my productivitiy--a change clearly for the good.
And on another note...at the end of worship service this morning Pastor came up to me and asked me if I was still interested in writing some monologues to be used as sermon helps. Interested? Abosolutely!!!! So he's going to give me some of the biblical characters that his sermons are going to focus on and I'm going to get busy! I'm so excited. This is going to be fun.
Oh, wait and one more really super thing happened today: one of my mostest favoritest professors taught our Sunday School class. I felt like a learner again. I've missed feeling that way. It's a good attitude to take into my new writing adventure!
How am I going to sleep tonight?
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Happy Birthday to Me
It’s my birthday. I am 49 today. I started the day off at church. I sang a solo, “Broken and Spilled Out.” It’s the first solo I’ve sung at this new church. It was received well. Three of us in our Sunday School class share this birthday so Nelson and I provided bakery decorated (yummy) cake (one white and chocolate) for our class. I read from Dr. Suess’ “Happy Birthday to You.” It was fun. After class Nelson took me to lunch at Ruby Tuesday. We went there because there was a $5 coupon in the paper yesterday. I had ribs---they were luscious and melted in my mouth…mmmmmmmmmm!
Last week Nelson and I went and purchased a new washer and dryer since ours was barely limping along. This was my birthday present. They’re Maytag, quiet, and wonderful. I’m quite happy. Nelson also bought me a Pooh pendant/locket watch. It’s quite pretty. Beth got me some Glade scented oil candles. They’re so nice. They make me feel pampered. Ann (and the kids) were here this week and she cleaned my refrigerator (quite a needed and awesomely appreciated gift).
Yesterday I went to a rummage sale and got a bag of clothes for $2. I got 6 summer shirts and a faux suede skirt (that I wore to church this morning). I’m wearing my Pooh sweatshirt that has a big 49 on it. It says “Pooh Cuteness.” It fits in many ways!
Now I’m going to relax, watch baseball and the race. This evening, as is our denominations tradition, we will be having a three-fold communion service. It will be my first since joining the church. I’m looking forward to it.
I celebrate life today. I celebrate friends. I celebrate my faith. I celebrate---just because I can! Blessings to you and on you! Hugs and Hershey kisses.
Last week Nelson and I went and purchased a new washer and dryer since ours was barely limping along. This was my birthday present. They’re Maytag, quiet, and wonderful. I’m quite happy. Nelson also bought me a Pooh pendant/locket watch. It’s quite pretty. Beth got me some Glade scented oil candles. They’re so nice. They make me feel pampered. Ann (and the kids) were here this week and she cleaned my refrigerator (quite a needed and awesomely appreciated gift).
Yesterday I went to a rummage sale and got a bag of clothes for $2. I got 6 summer shirts and a faux suede skirt (that I wore to church this morning). I’m wearing my Pooh sweatshirt that has a big 49 on it. It says “Pooh Cuteness.” It fits in many ways!
Now I’m going to relax, watch baseball and the race. This evening, as is our denominations tradition, we will be having a three-fold communion service. It will be my first since joining the church. I’m looking forward to it.
I celebrate life today. I celebrate friends. I celebrate my faith. I celebrate---just because I can! Blessings to you and on you! Hugs and Hershey kisses.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
30+1
Tonight is my 30+1 class reunion. And I feel like such a kid: a bundle up muddle of mixed emotions.
Recently I’ve spent some time looking over photos and annuals. I was trying to remember faces and events. I came away with many smiles, but also with some sadness.
I moved the summer between 8th and 9th grades. I was really just connecting with a lot of people in junior high and was really excited about the transition to high school. Then my dad announced that we were moving. Devastation barely describes the deep of my newly discovered teenage angst.
We moved from a quaint small town to eastern suburb of Columbus, Ohio. It was culture shock, plain and simple. Dad had found a brand new subdivision and bought one of the first homes built. We were now on the out edge of the world so it seemed with no one around us. I had no opportunity to make any friends before school started. I was totally alone and terrified.
I remember those first steps on campus. As I walked toward one of the buildings the cement sidewalk seemed to double in size, or was that just me shrinking in my fright? Providence, in retrospect, clearly had a hand in what happened next for the first connection I made was band.
My peer group for the next four years was located pretty much within the confines of the band and choir. From that pool there was a subset of people that were closely associated with the academic challenge team (In the Know as the program was then called on TV) that I was particularly close to.
Nelson teases me about being boy crazy. For a long time I denied that, but my recent walk down Memory Lane confirms his observation and a few other things I’m not very proud of. I desperately wanted to be loved, but was involved in two types (maybe three) of relationships. In one I was constantly pursuing relationships I couldn’t have, guys that were “too good” for me, weren’t interested, or in one case: bad boys. Then there were the relationships that I took the role of manipulator. I was in control and control I did. The last relationship was one I could have but never felt worthy to have. It was such an on again off again thing. There was deep love and an almost spiritual connection, but I never seemed to be able to sustain it.
Needless to say with all this going on I was labeled quite the flirt. I hurt way too many feelings and garnered a deserved but disdained reputation. I lost most all of my girlfriends over it and couldn’t trust the guys to be really caring about me as a person. I was pretty miserable. I wish I could say things improved when I moved on to college, but it was the same song next verse with an interesting bridge.
There have been many times I have said that there isn’t enough money in the world for me to go back and be a teenager again. I’ve repented of that hasty remark—after all, there’s a lot of good I could do with that money. I’ve also said I’d go back if I could know what I know now. In my reflection this week, I decided I probably did know a lot of what I know now. I would just need to trust it enough to do it.
So I started thinking about the three lessons I would take back with me if I could do it all over again. And I think I came up with a pretty good short list. First, I would put my girlfriends first. I wasted so much energy and heart chasing boys to find some kind of completion and hurt the people who really knew, understood, and loved me unconditionally. Relationships with girlfriends last. Then, I would either tattoo it or get a huge poster and hang it on my wall that I amazingly talented, extraordinary, intelligent, and wise. I never believed I could do anything. I never really got any encouragement to do anything, to be anyone. I thought I was destined to be a runner up. I couldn’t even finish first in a contest of one. I never really applied myself—what was the point? Such an unfair untruth. And finally, I would start to savor the moment much, much earlier. I spent so much time and energy rushing to get ahead, arrive somewhere, that I missed the treasure of the current. I know this because I absolutely love staring into Asher’s face, cooing with him, noticing every change and nuance. I must have done this some with the girls, but not near enough.
Well, it’s time to get ready. I’ll let you know how it goes.
It went wonderfully. We were all showing off pictures of kids and/or grandkids. There was lots less hair and bigger bellies. The old adage that people don’t change was quite true for some—many in fact. And a couple of the guys that I just thought were the hottest things breathing when we were in high school just lost some of that luster over the years. I just made me smile.
One of the best parts of the evening was reconnecting with one of my very dearest friends. We had stayed in touch until 1989 and then life happened. Seeing her was wonderful. We will stay better in touch now.
The other best part was the hug and dance I got from one of my greatest high school sweethearts. He will always own a piece of my heart. What really surprised me was how I melted when he took my hand. Out on the dance floor we swayed to a classic Barry Manilow song, “Looks Like We Made It.” Time vanished and it was 1973 again. My heart is so happy that life is good for him right now.
Bottom line: I almost didn’t go. Our car broke down yesterday. I had a migraine on Friday. I was starting to wonder why so much seemed to be saying not to go? But I’m am so glad I went. I am very, very thankful that a couple people took on this fete and gave us a wonderful evening.
Now we look forward to 2010. The pictures should be quite interesting then!
Recently I’ve spent some time looking over photos and annuals. I was trying to remember faces and events. I came away with many smiles, but also with some sadness.
I moved the summer between 8th and 9th grades. I was really just connecting with a lot of people in junior high and was really excited about the transition to high school. Then my dad announced that we were moving. Devastation barely describes the deep of my newly discovered teenage angst.
We moved from a quaint small town to eastern suburb of Columbus, Ohio. It was culture shock, plain and simple. Dad had found a brand new subdivision and bought one of the first homes built. We were now on the out edge of the world so it seemed with no one around us. I had no opportunity to make any friends before school started. I was totally alone and terrified.
I remember those first steps on campus. As I walked toward one of the buildings the cement sidewalk seemed to double in size, or was that just me shrinking in my fright? Providence, in retrospect, clearly had a hand in what happened next for the first connection I made was band.
My peer group for the next four years was located pretty much within the confines of the band and choir. From that pool there was a subset of people that were closely associated with the academic challenge team (In the Know as the program was then called on TV) that I was particularly close to.
Nelson teases me about being boy crazy. For a long time I denied that, but my recent walk down Memory Lane confirms his observation and a few other things I’m not very proud of. I desperately wanted to be loved, but was involved in two types (maybe three) of relationships. In one I was constantly pursuing relationships I couldn’t have, guys that were “too good” for me, weren’t interested, or in one case: bad boys. Then there were the relationships that I took the role of manipulator. I was in control and control I did. The last relationship was one I could have but never felt worthy to have. It was such an on again off again thing. There was deep love and an almost spiritual connection, but I never seemed to be able to sustain it.
Needless to say with all this going on I was labeled quite the flirt. I hurt way too many feelings and garnered a deserved but disdained reputation. I lost most all of my girlfriends over it and couldn’t trust the guys to be really caring about me as a person. I was pretty miserable. I wish I could say things improved when I moved on to college, but it was the same song next verse with an interesting bridge.
There have been many times I have said that there isn’t enough money in the world for me to go back and be a teenager again. I’ve repented of that hasty remark—after all, there’s a lot of good I could do with that money. I’ve also said I’d go back if I could know what I know now. In my reflection this week, I decided I probably did know a lot of what I know now. I would just need to trust it enough to do it.
So I started thinking about the three lessons I would take back with me if I could do it all over again. And I think I came up with a pretty good short list. First, I would put my girlfriends first. I wasted so much energy and heart chasing boys to find some kind of completion and hurt the people who really knew, understood, and loved me unconditionally. Relationships with girlfriends last. Then, I would either tattoo it or get a huge poster and hang it on my wall that I amazingly talented, extraordinary, intelligent, and wise. I never believed I could do anything. I never really got any encouragement to do anything, to be anyone. I thought I was destined to be a runner up. I couldn’t even finish first in a contest of one. I never really applied myself—what was the point? Such an unfair untruth. And finally, I would start to savor the moment much, much earlier. I spent so much time and energy rushing to get ahead, arrive somewhere, that I missed the treasure of the current. I know this because I absolutely love staring into Asher’s face, cooing with him, noticing every change and nuance. I must have done this some with the girls, but not near enough.
Well, it’s time to get ready. I’ll let you know how it goes.
It went wonderfully. We were all showing off pictures of kids and/or grandkids. There was lots less hair and bigger bellies. The old adage that people don’t change was quite true for some—many in fact. And a couple of the guys that I just thought were the hottest things breathing when we were in high school just lost some of that luster over the years. I just made me smile.
One of the best parts of the evening was reconnecting with one of my very dearest friends. We had stayed in touch until 1989 and then life happened. Seeing her was wonderful. We will stay better in touch now.
The other best part was the hug and dance I got from one of my greatest high school sweethearts. He will always own a piece of my heart. What really surprised me was how I melted when he took my hand. Out on the dance floor we swayed to a classic Barry Manilow song, “Looks Like We Made It.” Time vanished and it was 1973 again. My heart is so happy that life is good for him right now.
Bottom line: I almost didn’t go. Our car broke down yesterday. I had a migraine on Friday. I was starting to wonder why so much seemed to be saying not to go? But I’m am so glad I went. I am very, very thankful that a couple people took on this fete and gave us a wonderful evening.
Now we look forward to 2010. The pictures should be quite interesting then!
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Writing Idea
Kick But
This week an idea came to me while I was working out. I think well in the morning and the endorphins must have really been flowing this day.
Anyway, my mind started playing with word pictures. I do this quite often. When I’m walking or driving I’ll just start down this trail chasing thoughts and words, it’s kind of fun really. Some of the ideas would make great devotionals but I tend not to write them down and they just float off never to be shared.
Today, I decided to challenge that pattern and I wrote down what I was thinking! So here’s the way it went:
I set the machine at a more difficult level and was really feeling like it was “kicking my butt.” And that phrase began to trip around my mind.
Kick “but” out of here. Peter in Acts 10, when confronted by his vision responded with “Yes Lord, but…” I have often preached that you can’t do both: He is either Lord or not, there is no room for a “but” in following Him.
Get your butt out of here. From physical temple concept of caring for one’s body. I carry around way to much butt and that’s because I sit on it when I should be exercising it. I eat poorly, wrong food, wrong times, wrong reasons. I am responsible for the shape my shape is in and I am trying to act more responsibly and kick that butt out of here!
Another but out, came as I was thinking about where I stick my nose. Isn’t that a weird one? We stick our nose in someone else’s business and we’re told to butt out. Anyway, I had to think about where I’ve butted in and where I need to stop and how many conversations I don’t need to be a part of.
Put your butt out. Thinking of prayer posture. This thought came to me during a particularly moving praise song. Part of me wanted to stop and just fall prostrate on the floor—but since my time was running (and running out before work) I prostrated myself in my heart and remembered that falling at the feet of God is not such a bad spot to be, and if he spanks my behind while I’m there—I probably deserve it!
So then a couple days later while listening to music and working out another word play came to mind: rain and reign. And then a dim little bulb clicked on in my brain: what about writing these down—you know like in a book. (Novel idea: hahahahaha) I love word plays. I love writing devotionally. I could write a book and call it: Homonyms for the Heart. I liked the idea so much that I even started to do some research on homonyms. There’s quite a list. My mind was racing so fast that my fingers couldn’t keep up.
Anyway, I’m just a little excited about this. Then I got this really cool idea: maybe the people I know have some ideas to share. So if you do email me and I will consider adding your thought to my collection. Now excuse me, I have some research to do!
This week an idea came to me while I was working out. I think well in the morning and the endorphins must have really been flowing this day.
Anyway, my mind started playing with word pictures. I do this quite often. When I’m walking or driving I’ll just start down this trail chasing thoughts and words, it’s kind of fun really. Some of the ideas would make great devotionals but I tend not to write them down and they just float off never to be shared.
Today, I decided to challenge that pattern and I wrote down what I was thinking! So here’s the way it went:
I set the machine at a more difficult level and was really feeling like it was “kicking my butt.” And that phrase began to trip around my mind.
Kick “but” out of here. Peter in Acts 10, when confronted by his vision responded with “Yes Lord, but…” I have often preached that you can’t do both: He is either Lord or not, there is no room for a “but” in following Him.
Get your butt out of here. From physical temple concept of caring for one’s body. I carry around way to much butt and that’s because I sit on it when I should be exercising it. I eat poorly, wrong food, wrong times, wrong reasons. I am responsible for the shape my shape is in and I am trying to act more responsibly and kick that butt out of here!
Another but out, came as I was thinking about where I stick my nose. Isn’t that a weird one? We stick our nose in someone else’s business and we’re told to butt out. Anyway, I had to think about where I’ve butted in and where I need to stop and how many conversations I don’t need to be a part of.
Put your butt out. Thinking of prayer posture. This thought came to me during a particularly moving praise song. Part of me wanted to stop and just fall prostrate on the floor—but since my time was running (and running out before work) I prostrated myself in my heart and remembered that falling at the feet of God is not such a bad spot to be, and if he spanks my behind while I’m there—I probably deserve it!
So then a couple days later while listening to music and working out another word play came to mind: rain and reign. And then a dim little bulb clicked on in my brain: what about writing these down—you know like in a book. (Novel idea: hahahahaha) I love word plays. I love writing devotionally. I could write a book and call it: Homonyms for the Heart. I liked the idea so much that I even started to do some research on homonyms. There’s quite a list. My mind was racing so fast that my fingers couldn’t keep up.
Anyway, I’m just a little excited about this. Then I got this really cool idea: maybe the people I know have some ideas to share. So if you do email me and I will consider adding your thought to my collection. Now excuse me, I have some research to do!
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Round About
Friday I got up early and went in to work. I worked out for 30 minutes on the elliptical trainer. I really liked the machine—I felt like I got a wonderful workout and nothing hurt (like knees or hips).
Saturday I walked in the afternoon. I just took off out of the house and 50 minutes later I got home. It was such a beautiful day I just kept walking. My feet didn’t even hurt!
I rested from exercise on Sunday.
This morning I got up and went in for another 30 minutes on the elliptical. I still like it.
I was thinking when I was walking on Saturday. I do that sometimes. I learned that one of my closest friends from High School is a professor of cardiology at the University of Michigan. Another friend is an associate professor and associate dean at the University of Connecticut. Another is Director of the Northern Illinois University School of Music.
When I learned these things, my first thoughts were sad and regret-filled. Imagine that. Then my thoughts took a turn. Instead of continuing down Bemoaning Avenue, I headed straight towards Gratitudeville.
Instead of dwelling on what isn’t or what might have been, I began to consider what I had done. I’ve taught at three seminaries, amongst a whole list of other accomplishments. I was a pastor/chaplain/counselor for a total of 21 years and I was good at what I did. I don’t mean that arrogantly, but I have worked hard on being able to own that. One of the most powerful things ever said about me was said by my chaplain supervisor when he said (in an evaluation) that I was “good for people.”
I may never know who’s life I touched at the right time in the right way because I chose to be faithful in spite of the “smallness” of the assignment. I may be only making hoses right now, but I may not see why I am here doing what I am doing, I have to believe that there is purpose and continued plans for me.
On the tale end of that whole set of thinkings came a thought that sort of tickled me. The core issue is widely debated in theological circles—a debate I chose to stay out of for many reasons, the main one being I think we use a whole lot of time (not necessarily to be confused with waste) debating that could be used to creatively bring us together rather than drive us apart.
Anyway…here’s the thought: If it was ordained (or pre-ordained) that I should be ordained, was it ordained that I become un-ordained? And if so why? And trust me, the question is rhetorical. I’m not looking for an answer. And I’ll tell you why: I’ll stand with Job on this one: the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord. It’s not my place to argue, or even understand. However, whenever he wants to use me I’m there and I’ll try not to muck it up too badly this time.
Well, I fell asleep last night while writing this one. I’m still trying to get up at 4:30 and that’s hard when the shows I like are on at 9 and 10. Getting up early has definitely curbed my TV viewing time.
So I’m off to the elliptical…see you around…..
Saturday I walked in the afternoon. I just took off out of the house and 50 minutes later I got home. It was such a beautiful day I just kept walking. My feet didn’t even hurt!
I rested from exercise on Sunday.
This morning I got up and went in for another 30 minutes on the elliptical. I still like it.
I was thinking when I was walking on Saturday. I do that sometimes. I learned that one of my closest friends from High School is a professor of cardiology at the University of Michigan. Another friend is an associate professor and associate dean at the University of Connecticut. Another is Director of the Northern Illinois University School of Music.
When I learned these things, my first thoughts were sad and regret-filled. Imagine that. Then my thoughts took a turn. Instead of continuing down Bemoaning Avenue, I headed straight towards Gratitudeville.
Instead of dwelling on what isn’t or what might have been, I began to consider what I had done. I’ve taught at three seminaries, amongst a whole list of other accomplishments. I was a pastor/chaplain/counselor for a total of 21 years and I was good at what I did. I don’t mean that arrogantly, but I have worked hard on being able to own that. One of the most powerful things ever said about me was said by my chaplain supervisor when he said (in an evaluation) that I was “good for people.”
I may never know who’s life I touched at the right time in the right way because I chose to be faithful in spite of the “smallness” of the assignment. I may be only making hoses right now, but I may not see why I am here doing what I am doing, I have to believe that there is purpose and continued plans for me.
On the tale end of that whole set of thinkings came a thought that sort of tickled me. The core issue is widely debated in theological circles—a debate I chose to stay out of for many reasons, the main one being I think we use a whole lot of time (not necessarily to be confused with waste) debating that could be used to creatively bring us together rather than drive us apart.
Anyway…here’s the thought: If it was ordained (or pre-ordained) that I should be ordained, was it ordained that I become un-ordained? And if so why? And trust me, the question is rhetorical. I’m not looking for an answer. And I’ll tell you why: I’ll stand with Job on this one: the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord. It’s not my place to argue, or even understand. However, whenever he wants to use me I’m there and I’ll try not to muck it up too badly this time.
Well, I fell asleep last night while writing this one. I’m still trying to get up at 4:30 and that’s hard when the shows I like are on at 9 and 10. Getting up early has definitely curbed my TV viewing time.
So I’m off to the elliptical…see you around…..
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Early Rising
Day One
3:57AM
That's what the clock said when I woke up this morning.
I had been dreaming about running water...never something to be ignored--especially at my age!
At first I groaned.
Then I got up and colored my hair.
Then I did the rest of my morning routine and got to my work place at 6:28.
I put on my headset and listened to the music for this coming Sunday's service and walked really hard for 25 minutes.
I feel good. Real good!
Day Two
Okay, not awake quite as early, but bame it on American Idol.
Got to work a little earlier and got a full 30 minutes of walking in. It felt good--really good this morning. I work tennis shoes instead of my work (steel toes) shoes. At one point the coolest thing happened. I was listening to a worship song and just really got into the praising and it felt like I was walking on my toes. I was dancing, no it was lighter than that--it was like soaring. It was like a wonderful softness lifted my heart and I was lifted above some of the weightiness of recent days, or months. What a super blessed moment!
I noticed that my pants felt loser. I know that I haven't lost any more weight (as of this morning I'm still at nine pounds down), but perhaps things are shifting around a little. And that's all good!
Now I'm heading off to bed. I stayed up to watch the Idol results and switched over to Criminal Minds on a commercial. Before I realized it Idol was over. Guess I'll check out the results in the morning. Right now I'm just going to turn off the light and catch some serious zzzzzzzzzzzz.
3:57AM
That's what the clock said when I woke up this morning.
I had been dreaming about running water...never something to be ignored--especially at my age!
At first I groaned.
Then I got up and colored my hair.
Then I did the rest of my morning routine and got to my work place at 6:28.
I put on my headset and listened to the music for this coming Sunday's service and walked really hard for 25 minutes.
I feel good. Real good!
Day Two
Okay, not awake quite as early, but bame it on American Idol.
Got to work a little earlier and got a full 30 minutes of walking in. It felt good--really good this morning. I work tennis shoes instead of my work (steel toes) shoes. At one point the coolest thing happened. I was listening to a worship song and just really got into the praising and it felt like I was walking on my toes. I was dancing, no it was lighter than that--it was like soaring. It was like a wonderful softness lifted my heart and I was lifted above some of the weightiness of recent days, or months. What a super blessed moment!
I noticed that my pants felt loser. I know that I haven't lost any more weight (as of this morning I'm still at nine pounds down), but perhaps things are shifting around a little. And that's all good!
Now I'm heading off to bed. I stayed up to watch the Idol results and switched over to Criminal Minds on a commercial. Before I realized it Idol was over. Guess I'll check out the results in the morning. Right now I'm just going to turn off the light and catch some serious zzzzzzzzzzzz.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Good Day
That was too much fun to be considered work.
This morning the music went very well in the first service. Even the part where I accompanied the worship team solo!
Then I had the blessing of joining our fellowship. It was an exciting moment for me. At one point I looked up and caught the eye of my favorite prof. He smiled such an approving smile. It was a sweet moment.
Then it was time to teach the Sunday School class. Magical. Energy zapping. It was so wonderful. Each time I have an opportunity to speak/teach/preach I draw from this bottomless pit of energy. I hit the floor running. This group was so easy to teach. They were with me from the git-go. And then, when it was over there were sooooooooo many strokes and soooooo much encouragement. Prof came up to me and complimented me. The owner of our company came to me and told me it was a good job. Several people asked if/when I was going to teach a quarter. Nelson told me that it blessed him, too. He loves to hear me speak.
After class we came home, nabbed the baby, and went to lunch at Applebees. Little Asher is definitely an Applebaby. All the servers and managers stopped by the table, many took a few moments to hold him and love on him. It’s so sweet.
And now I’ve got my feet up and am enjoying a cup’o coffee and resting before the race. It’s definitely been a good day!
This morning the music went very well in the first service. Even the part where I accompanied the worship team solo!
Then I had the blessing of joining our fellowship. It was an exciting moment for me. At one point I looked up and caught the eye of my favorite prof. He smiled such an approving smile. It was a sweet moment.
Then it was time to teach the Sunday School class. Magical. Energy zapping. It was so wonderful. Each time I have an opportunity to speak/teach/preach I draw from this bottomless pit of energy. I hit the floor running. This group was so easy to teach. They were with me from the git-go. And then, when it was over there were sooooooooo many strokes and soooooo much encouragement. Prof came up to me and complimented me. The owner of our company came to me and told me it was a good job. Several people asked if/when I was going to teach a quarter. Nelson told me that it blessed him, too. He loves to hear me speak.
After class we came home, nabbed the baby, and went to lunch at Applebees. Little Asher is definitely an Applebaby. All the servers and managers stopped by the table, many took a few moments to hold him and love on him. It’s so sweet.
And now I’ve got my feet up and am enjoying a cup’o coffee and resting before the race. It’s definitely been a good day!
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Roller Coaster
Please keep hands and feet inside the ride at all times! (Can you tell I worked at an amusement park?)
It has seemed like a bit of a roller coaster this week. Just an update of sorts on Nelson: work conditioning is back on. Nelson had an appointment with the PA at the surgeon on Friday. He watched Nelson walk. He prescribed a cane and told him to get rid of the crutch. And even with what the report from the 2nd opinion doc and the physical therapist, the PA went the route of the surgeon.
Let’s see if I can describe this so you can picture it: when you walk you roll from toe to heel and your knee bends in the process (take a couple steps and see what I mean). Nelson hasn’t got the ability to bend his toes up like that and therefore his knee doesn’t bend. The left foot is sort of stationary and the weight goes down on the outside of his foot. So he takes a step with the right leg/foot and there’s a hop/step with the left. This process is painful for the left side, but we think it’s exactly how his back went out: his right side has to totally overcompensate. What fun is this?
Work had some really good moments this week for me. I got at least a cursory inventory completed so that I know what’s on my shelves—and what’s not. The down side was that I really messed up on the first big order I did. I missed some things, just completely overlooked them. They also said I forgot some other stuff, and I just don’t see how. I felt pretty bad for what I know I did wrong. I’ve already implemented tools to keep this kind of thing from happening again.
But bigger than work, something sort of major occurred. I have been in contact with the district office of the Church of the Nazarene where my credentials were being held while I was under discipline. Before we moved here, I had been working with them to resign my credentials. The issue had been presented to the District Advisory Board and they approved the request. The request was to be presented by the District Superintendent to the General Board in Kansas City. He didn’t do it. Twice. I stopped pursuing the matter until February when I began the process for joining the church we are now attending. That’s when I learned nothing had been done.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to deal with the District Superintendent directly. I was able to connect with the District Secretary who made several calls. It turned out that the new manual of the Church of the Nazarene went into affect on March 1, 2006. The new procedure doesn’t require that the Board of General Superintendents address these matters. The responsibility falls back on the District Advisory Boards—and fall it did. So since they had voted unanimously to recommend my resignation, this was accepted.
So I am no longer clergy. I am laity. I’ve been functioning that way since Oct. 2001, but now it’s official. It’s good to have that be official and over, but I must confess I feel sad. And now, like Nelson, I wonder what lies out there for me.
I do know this: tomorrow morning I’m going to teach our Sunday School class. There are 60 in the class on average. Two of my most favorite professors are there. My supervisor and the owner of the company. One of my co-workers and the office assistant. And all the rest of those folks. I need to finish my presentation so I should probably jet out of here for now.
Wait for the ride to come to a complete stop before exiting the car. Thanks for riding with us!
It has seemed like a bit of a roller coaster this week. Just an update of sorts on Nelson: work conditioning is back on. Nelson had an appointment with the PA at the surgeon on Friday. He watched Nelson walk. He prescribed a cane and told him to get rid of the crutch. And even with what the report from the 2nd opinion doc and the physical therapist, the PA went the route of the surgeon.
Let’s see if I can describe this so you can picture it: when you walk you roll from toe to heel and your knee bends in the process (take a couple steps and see what I mean). Nelson hasn’t got the ability to bend his toes up like that and therefore his knee doesn’t bend. The left foot is sort of stationary and the weight goes down on the outside of his foot. So he takes a step with the right leg/foot and there’s a hop/step with the left. This process is painful for the left side, but we think it’s exactly how his back went out: his right side has to totally overcompensate. What fun is this?
Work had some really good moments this week for me. I got at least a cursory inventory completed so that I know what’s on my shelves—and what’s not. The down side was that I really messed up on the first big order I did. I missed some things, just completely overlooked them. They also said I forgot some other stuff, and I just don’t see how. I felt pretty bad for what I know I did wrong. I’ve already implemented tools to keep this kind of thing from happening again.
But bigger than work, something sort of major occurred. I have been in contact with the district office of the Church of the Nazarene where my credentials were being held while I was under discipline. Before we moved here, I had been working with them to resign my credentials. The issue had been presented to the District Advisory Board and they approved the request. The request was to be presented by the District Superintendent to the General Board in Kansas City. He didn’t do it. Twice. I stopped pursuing the matter until February when I began the process for joining the church we are now attending. That’s when I learned nothing had been done.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to deal with the District Superintendent directly. I was able to connect with the District Secretary who made several calls. It turned out that the new manual of the Church of the Nazarene went into affect on March 1, 2006. The new procedure doesn’t require that the Board of General Superintendents address these matters. The responsibility falls back on the District Advisory Boards—and fall it did. So since they had voted unanimously to recommend my resignation, this was accepted.
So I am no longer clergy. I am laity. I’ve been functioning that way since Oct. 2001, but now it’s official. It’s good to have that be official and over, but I must confess I feel sad. And now, like Nelson, I wonder what lies out there for me.
I do know this: tomorrow morning I’m going to teach our Sunday School class. There are 60 in the class on average. Two of my most favorite professors are there. My supervisor and the owner of the company. One of my co-workers and the office assistant. And all the rest of those folks. I need to finish my presentation so I should probably jet out of here for now.
Wait for the ride to come to a complete stop before exiting the car. Thanks for riding with us!
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Medical Update
Nelson is resting right now. He’s exhausted from all the walking. He thanks you for your prayers—and so do I!
He spent 45 minutes with the second opinion doctor. First, this doctor said he probably would have done the same thing as the ER doctor: pass the case off to Dr. K (Nelson’s surgeon). Dr. K is quite well know and respected.
He did a lot to check Nelson’s mobility and examined the x-rays quite closely. He had read and was familiar with the recommendations of the physical therapist and rehab director.
He felt that Nelson may actually take up to 2 years to fully rehab and during that time he might want to consider taking college classes or vocational training to prepare for the probability that he won’t be able to return to construction work. He also said that Nelson does need rehab/PT, though not work conditioning at this time, to strengthen his whole leg and improve his ability to walk—without the crutch.
Nelson was able to ask some question and got a lot more information in that 45 minutes than he has since last June. This new doctor pointed out that Nelson’s pulse was good in his left foot, that hair was growing—which indicates good circulation. When Nelson asked about the horrible dryness (that just defies all lotions) of his foot, the doctor said that the problem is related to the extreme trauma that the foot/ankle endured and it will take quite a while to improve.
The doctor asked about the possibility of light duty work with Nelson’s former employer. Nelson had checked on this before the visit and was told that the there was not much hope of that, and definitely not on a regular basis. So, I’m not sure what we’re going to do financially for the next couple years. But it looks like Beth will have someone to watch Asher.
The next step is an appointment on Friday with the assistant to the surgeon and then a PT session. But how we will proceed will be the decision of Workers’ Comp based on the report from the second doc.
So nothing is definite, but it feels good that we were heard and have a few more answers.
He spent 45 minutes with the second opinion doctor. First, this doctor said he probably would have done the same thing as the ER doctor: pass the case off to Dr. K (Nelson’s surgeon). Dr. K is quite well know and respected.
He did a lot to check Nelson’s mobility and examined the x-rays quite closely. He had read and was familiar with the recommendations of the physical therapist and rehab director.
He felt that Nelson may actually take up to 2 years to fully rehab and during that time he might want to consider taking college classes or vocational training to prepare for the probability that he won’t be able to return to construction work. He also said that Nelson does need rehab/PT, though not work conditioning at this time, to strengthen his whole leg and improve his ability to walk—without the crutch.
Nelson was able to ask some question and got a lot more information in that 45 minutes than he has since last June. This new doctor pointed out that Nelson’s pulse was good in his left foot, that hair was growing—which indicates good circulation. When Nelson asked about the horrible dryness (that just defies all lotions) of his foot, the doctor said that the problem is related to the extreme trauma that the foot/ankle endured and it will take quite a while to improve.
The doctor asked about the possibility of light duty work with Nelson’s former employer. Nelson had checked on this before the visit and was told that the there was not much hope of that, and definitely not on a regular basis. So, I’m not sure what we’re going to do financially for the next couple years. But it looks like Beth will have someone to watch Asher.
The next step is an appointment on Friday with the assistant to the surgeon and then a PT session. But how we will proceed will be the decision of Workers’ Comp based on the report from the second doc.
So nothing is definite, but it feels good that we were heard and have a few more answers.
A Prayer Request
Today, my husband has to travel to two hospitals and a clinic to retrieve all the x-rays taken of his ankle last summer and subsequent to his surgeries and take them to a new doctor to get a second opinion. The travel isn't easy, but much more difficult (and painful) will be going into each place and getting back to the car. I'm trying not to worry, or even concern myself, but it's hard.
Will you pray for Nelson today for me? Pray for the stamina required to get all the x-rays and get to the new doctor. And please, please pray with me that this new doctor will take seriously our concerns, watch Nelson walk, and make recommendations that we can live and work with.
Thank you.
Will you pray for Nelson today for me? Pray for the stamina required to get all the x-rays and get to the new doctor. And please, please pray with me that this new doctor will take seriously our concerns, watch Nelson walk, and make recommendations that we can live and work with.
Thank you.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Weekly Review
In many respects, this was a better week for me. That’s not to say it was without many challenges, but somehow I handled them better.
Nelson’s back has finally stopped hurting so terribly. That’s not to say that it doesn’t hurt at all, but he can live with the pain once again and not keep moaning. He battled a bit with a cold this week, but it didn’t go full blown on him which is a miracle and quite a blessing! He has been kinder to me also which has also made my responses gentler.
Beth is back to work full swing. Nelson watched Asher three times this week and I had duty (such a burden—ha!) last night and again tomorrow. Beth also did battle with some kind of bug. I think it was partly just about getting back to work. Asher is growing so!! He’s also sleeping for about 5 hours at a time at night.
Sunday night we got a call from Pastor and he asked to meet with Nelson and I on Monday. My first thought was that someone had raised issue with my being there due to my crime and status. That wasn’t exactly the case. Pastor did however wonder if we needed to make the worship team aware since one of the couples’ (the piano player and bass player) children (teenagers) have started helping out in the band. I agreed and on Tuesday before practice I talked to the team leader and then afterward to the wife of the couple. I was nervous and somewhat fearful that sharing the issue might result in my needing to back out of the team. Once again grace paved the way for a receptivity that I wouldn’t have imagined. I am abundantly thankfull.
Thursday was a really rough day at work. D, the gal I trained to take my place in packaging, and I were going to do an inventory in my new area. The more we tried the more ridiculous it seemed and the more frustrated I got. If I had been given some of the things I had been asking for (over and over)—items to help me understand what I was working with and on then it might have been different. I really felt like my hands were tied and I was being asked to turn off my brain. I can’t work that way. The frustration built to where I finally confronted the guy who should have trained me better, who was “withholding” information, and making my job hellacious. I told him I was ready to quit. I told him that when I asked questions I wasn’t questioning his authority, I was just trying to understand so that I could do my job and do it well. If I can’t do a good job, I’m not going to do the job. I think he finally got it. He brought out some really helpful schematics and took some extra time to explain things. I felt so much better about what I learned. What I don’t feel better about is that it is beginning to feel like I have to threaten to quit for him to finally hear me. That piece is going to have to change.
D is the gal that I took to the clinic on Feb. 14. She finished her round of prednizone on Tuesday of this week and immediately proceeded to get sick again. On Thursday after helping me for about an hour she could barely breathe. She was afraid she would lose her job if she had to leave work. I worked with her in talking to Ed about that and she did go home. She called me about an hour after she left and had decided to go to the ER. She spent half the day there. She called me when she finally got home. They gave her 4 breathing treatments and an IV antibiotic and then sent her home. They gave her a diagnosis of COPD. I had to talk with her about what that was and will be getting her more information. My heart just aches for her. She took Friday off and so hopefully she’ll be feeling better on Monday.
Friday night there was a gathering for the women of the church. It was a game night. We were instructed to wear our jammies or comfy clothes. I went with the jammies and donned my Pooh slippers as well! Since it was my night to watch Asher, he came along. He was quite the little man of the hour! The other instruction was to bring a snack to share. Oh, the goodies that were there! I brought my NutriSystem snack and drank my water and was totally satisfied and content. I sat at the mature women table and ended up playing dominos (Chicken Foot—new one to me). It was fun.
And now it’s Saturday. Toilets need to be cleaned. Laundry needs washing. And I think there’s a little money left from last week’s check to get some groceries. TTFN…
Nelson’s back has finally stopped hurting so terribly. That’s not to say that it doesn’t hurt at all, but he can live with the pain once again and not keep moaning. He battled a bit with a cold this week, but it didn’t go full blown on him which is a miracle and quite a blessing! He has been kinder to me also which has also made my responses gentler.
Beth is back to work full swing. Nelson watched Asher three times this week and I had duty (such a burden—ha!) last night and again tomorrow. Beth also did battle with some kind of bug. I think it was partly just about getting back to work. Asher is growing so!! He’s also sleeping for about 5 hours at a time at night.
Sunday night we got a call from Pastor and he asked to meet with Nelson and I on Monday. My first thought was that someone had raised issue with my being there due to my crime and status. That wasn’t exactly the case. Pastor did however wonder if we needed to make the worship team aware since one of the couples’ (the piano player and bass player) children (teenagers) have started helping out in the band. I agreed and on Tuesday before practice I talked to the team leader and then afterward to the wife of the couple. I was nervous and somewhat fearful that sharing the issue might result in my needing to back out of the team. Once again grace paved the way for a receptivity that I wouldn’t have imagined. I am abundantly thankfull.
Thursday was a really rough day at work. D, the gal I trained to take my place in packaging, and I were going to do an inventory in my new area. The more we tried the more ridiculous it seemed and the more frustrated I got. If I had been given some of the things I had been asking for (over and over)—items to help me understand what I was working with and on then it might have been different. I really felt like my hands were tied and I was being asked to turn off my brain. I can’t work that way. The frustration built to where I finally confronted the guy who should have trained me better, who was “withholding” information, and making my job hellacious. I told him I was ready to quit. I told him that when I asked questions I wasn’t questioning his authority, I was just trying to understand so that I could do my job and do it well. If I can’t do a good job, I’m not going to do the job. I think he finally got it. He brought out some really helpful schematics and took some extra time to explain things. I felt so much better about what I learned. What I don’t feel better about is that it is beginning to feel like I have to threaten to quit for him to finally hear me. That piece is going to have to change.
D is the gal that I took to the clinic on Feb. 14. She finished her round of prednizone on Tuesday of this week and immediately proceeded to get sick again. On Thursday after helping me for about an hour she could barely breathe. She was afraid she would lose her job if she had to leave work. I worked with her in talking to Ed about that and she did go home. She called me about an hour after she left and had decided to go to the ER. She spent half the day there. She called me when she finally got home. They gave her 4 breathing treatments and an IV antibiotic and then sent her home. They gave her a diagnosis of COPD. I had to talk with her about what that was and will be getting her more information. My heart just aches for her. She took Friday off and so hopefully she’ll be feeling better on Monday.
Friday night there was a gathering for the women of the church. It was a game night. We were instructed to wear our jammies or comfy clothes. I went with the jammies and donned my Pooh slippers as well! Since it was my night to watch Asher, he came along. He was quite the little man of the hour! The other instruction was to bring a snack to share. Oh, the goodies that were there! I brought my NutriSystem snack and drank my water and was totally satisfied and content. I sat at the mature women table and ended up playing dominos (Chicken Foot—new one to me). It was fun.
And now it’s Saturday. Toilets need to be cleaned. Laundry needs washing. And I think there’s a little money left from last week’s check to get some groceries. TTFN…
Saturday, February 25, 2006
My Week
Such a week.
Monday night I was in full cramp mood and I sighed one too many times and Nelson flew into a verbal tirade (which he continues to feel justified in doing since he has not apologized). He then didn’t talk to me for three days. He finally started speaking on Friday night. And now life continues.
This week in addition to being a verbal recluse (really only speaking to Beth and Penelope when they were visiting this week) he also appeared to be on self-destruct mode. I ended up feeling like a stranger in my own home. His back still hurts terribly. He's asked me to get the name of the on the upswing--it takes a lot for him to take care of himself. There has been an on-going battle with Worker's Comp as well--that turmoil isn't doing his depression any good at all!
Work wasn’t much better. Growing up in an alcoholic home I learned well the art of hyper vigilance. I could just sense that something was going on. And while I’m not at liberty to say (since I’m still not sure who’s reading my blog/diary at work), suffice it to say: I was right. On top of that, and trying to deal with home stuff, and cramps, I just struggled spiritually with being content.
Through it all I’m sticking to the NutriSystem plan. Faithfully and completely. And to my absolute delight, I’ve lost 6.5lbs since the 16th. I like the food. I’m drinking the water. And today I will start walking again. Here’s an example of my faithfulness: Last night our Sunday School class had an event. We met at Pizza Hut for dinner. There were about 35 of us. I made my NS pizza ahead of time, doctored it with mushrooms and crushed red peppers and took it with me. When it came time to order our meal, I ordered a one trip to the salad bar, which I ate the good stuff and left the heavy laden and fat filled food for someone else! Then we met at the nearby seminary and watched a movie (The Notebook—loved it!). While everyone else munched on popcorn (which wouldn’t have been all that horrible for me) I ate my NS mustard pretzels—which I love!!!!
Did you catch that a part of this week (Tuesday through Thursday) Ann was also here with the grandsweeties. That truly was balm for my heart. Penelope came running up to me and smothered me with hugs and sloppy kisses. We immediately hit the floor for play. At Memaw’s house, I believe Penelope thinks the best toy is Memaw!
And now I’m going to go walk. The sun has been out all morning and it’s trying to reach 40. It’ll be chilly, but I think it will do me good. More later!
Monday night I was in full cramp mood and I sighed one too many times and Nelson flew into a verbal tirade (which he continues to feel justified in doing since he has not apologized). He then didn’t talk to me for three days. He finally started speaking on Friday night. And now life continues.
This week in addition to being a verbal recluse (really only speaking to Beth and Penelope when they were visiting this week) he also appeared to be on self-destruct mode. I ended up feeling like a stranger in my own home. His back still hurts terribly. He's asked me to get the name of the on the upswing--it takes a lot for him to take care of himself. There has been an on-going battle with Worker's Comp as well--that turmoil isn't doing his depression any good at all!
Work wasn’t much better. Growing up in an alcoholic home I learned well the art of hyper vigilance. I could just sense that something was going on. And while I’m not at liberty to say (since I’m still not sure who’s reading my blog/diary at work), suffice it to say: I was right. On top of that, and trying to deal with home stuff, and cramps, I just struggled spiritually with being content.
Through it all I’m sticking to the NutriSystem plan. Faithfully and completely. And to my absolute delight, I’ve lost 6.5lbs since the 16th. I like the food. I’m drinking the water. And today I will start walking again. Here’s an example of my faithfulness: Last night our Sunday School class had an event. We met at Pizza Hut for dinner. There were about 35 of us. I made my NS pizza ahead of time, doctored it with mushrooms and crushed red peppers and took it with me. When it came time to order our meal, I ordered a one trip to the salad bar, which I ate the good stuff and left the heavy laden and fat filled food for someone else! Then we met at the nearby seminary and watched a movie (The Notebook—loved it!). While everyone else munched on popcorn (which wouldn’t have been all that horrible for me) I ate my NS mustard pretzels—which I love!!!!
Did you catch that a part of this week (Tuesday through Thursday) Ann was also here with the grandsweeties. That truly was balm for my heart. Penelope came running up to me and smothered me with hugs and sloppy kisses. We immediately hit the floor for play. At Memaw’s house, I believe Penelope thinks the best toy is Memaw!
And now I’m going to go walk. The sun has been out all morning and it’s trying to reach 40. It’ll be chilly, but I think it will do me good. More later!
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Curiosity
So would you take a moment and add to my reality check by filling this out: http://kevan.org/johari?name=daisymarie
Thanks!
Thanks!
Kisses
Boy, did I have a reality check this morning.
I am on my third day with Nutrisystem. I have really been enjoying the food. I don’t feel hungry or deprived.
So this morning for breakfast I decide to have the NS coconut O’s cereal with my egg and cheese. I go to the cupboard and pause for a moment contemplating what bowl to put my meager portion of cereal in. I pull out a very tiny bowl. I think to myself that I’ll have to go larger when I add the 4oz of milk. Nope. Milk and cereal fit more than comfortably in the teeny tiny bowl.
I reach back into the cupboard and pull out the bowl I usually ate my cereal in. Can you say gargantuan? First, I was dumbfounded, then I began to laugh hysterically. No wonder I could play one of the dancing hippos from Fantasia.
I shared my revelation with Nelson, when he finally woke up. We talked for quite some time on how we are part of the super-size generation. For me it started way back in high school. Remember how big the Whopper used to be? How about the Whaler? I ate them daily. When it was time to buy dishes, the size of the dinner plate was a key factor in being considered for the purchase. How insane is that?
Yesterday was our 27th anniversary. Nelson was awake when I came down for my breakfast. He quickly shouted (scaring the pee right out of me!) “Happy Anniversary!” and then told me my gift was on the stand by his bed. I opened the envelope to find a little red velvet bag. In the red velvet bag was the sweetest white gold wedding band. And it fit! I’ve been transitioning over to all white gold and my wedding was the last hold out. This gift was so sweet. It was like he was saying he’d marry me all over again. That felt really good!
When I came home from work yesterday, I expected that Nelson would be ready to walk right out the door to head for therapy. I was wrong. He wasn’t ready for that at all. He had just gotten a call from the director of the Rehab Dept who had been talking to the Doctor’s office.
Bottom line: Nelson is done with therapy. Both the doctor and the therapist agree that Nelson won’t do construction work again. He has a second opinion visit scheduled for a couple weeks from now. But neither anticipate much of a differing opinion. This is as good as it gets.
One of the things the doctor’s assistant told the therapist is that they recommended fusing Nelson’s ankle. Neither of us remember this and aren’t sure that this sounds like a good idea, but we’ll have to see about that.
So now we begin to consider what life is going to be like now for Nelson. He can’t imagine what he will do. His skills and training are to work with his hands. On top of this frustrating news, he turned wrong or something in bed and has reactivated his back pain. Needless to say, he’s feeling pretty miserable.
And now for the irony…A couple weeks ago Nelson and I were watching TV and there was an add for some fancy candy company for Valentines Day. Off the cuff, and without giving much thought to what I was saying (or that I was saying it to Nelson) I said that I would rather have a bag of Hershey Kisses instead of that fancy candy. Well, on one of Nelson’s many Ebay explorations he found a box of Hershey Kisses for sale so he bid and bought. Now when I say box, I mean the size box that a store gets to display and sell. It’s full of little individual bags of 4 kisses each. It was supposed to be here for Valentines Day—before I started my new eating commitment. Well, thanks to lousy timing, it arrived today! So now there’s going to be a box of kisses sitting on my shelf in the pantry waiting until I feel like a smidgen of chocolate won’t destroy my resolve.
Now I really can wish you all a Hershey Kiss!
I am on my third day with Nutrisystem. I have really been enjoying the food. I don’t feel hungry or deprived.
So this morning for breakfast I decide to have the NS coconut O’s cereal with my egg and cheese. I go to the cupboard and pause for a moment contemplating what bowl to put my meager portion of cereal in. I pull out a very tiny bowl. I think to myself that I’ll have to go larger when I add the 4oz of milk. Nope. Milk and cereal fit more than comfortably in the teeny tiny bowl.
I reach back into the cupboard and pull out the bowl I usually ate my cereal in. Can you say gargantuan? First, I was dumbfounded, then I began to laugh hysterically. No wonder I could play one of the dancing hippos from Fantasia.
I shared my revelation with Nelson, when he finally woke up. We talked for quite some time on how we are part of the super-size generation. For me it started way back in high school. Remember how big the Whopper used to be? How about the Whaler? I ate them daily. When it was time to buy dishes, the size of the dinner plate was a key factor in being considered for the purchase. How insane is that?
Yesterday was our 27th anniversary. Nelson was awake when I came down for my breakfast. He quickly shouted (scaring the pee right out of me!) “Happy Anniversary!” and then told me my gift was on the stand by his bed. I opened the envelope to find a little red velvet bag. In the red velvet bag was the sweetest white gold wedding band. And it fit! I’ve been transitioning over to all white gold and my wedding was the last hold out. This gift was so sweet. It was like he was saying he’d marry me all over again. That felt really good!
When I came home from work yesterday, I expected that Nelson would be ready to walk right out the door to head for therapy. I was wrong. He wasn’t ready for that at all. He had just gotten a call from the director of the Rehab Dept who had been talking to the Doctor’s office.
Bottom line: Nelson is done with therapy. Both the doctor and the therapist agree that Nelson won’t do construction work again. He has a second opinion visit scheduled for a couple weeks from now. But neither anticipate much of a differing opinion. This is as good as it gets.
One of the things the doctor’s assistant told the therapist is that they recommended fusing Nelson’s ankle. Neither of us remember this and aren’t sure that this sounds like a good idea, but we’ll have to see about that.
So now we begin to consider what life is going to be like now for Nelson. He can’t imagine what he will do. His skills and training are to work with his hands. On top of this frustrating news, he turned wrong or something in bed and has reactivated his back pain. Needless to say, he’s feeling pretty miserable.
And now for the irony…A couple weeks ago Nelson and I were watching TV and there was an add for some fancy candy company for Valentines Day. Off the cuff, and without giving much thought to what I was saying (or that I was saying it to Nelson) I said that I would rather have a bag of Hershey Kisses instead of that fancy candy. Well, on one of Nelson’s many Ebay explorations he found a box of Hershey Kisses for sale so he bid and bought. Now when I say box, I mean the size box that a store gets to display and sell. It’s full of little individual bags of 4 kisses each. It was supposed to be here for Valentines Day—before I started my new eating commitment. Well, thanks to lousy timing, it arrived today! So now there’s going to be a box of kisses sitting on my shelf in the pantry waiting until I feel like a smidgen of chocolate won’t destroy my resolve.
Now I really can wish you all a Hershey Kiss!
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
All About Love
What a Valentines Day I had.
D came to work on Monday and she was wheezing quite badly. By Tuesday it was much, much worse. Last week it sounded like she had bronchitis, but this week it sounded more like emphysema. I assumed my “mommy” role and couched it in psuedo-supervisor and insisted she go to the free clinic in town. Now I know I’m not her supervisor but I used my influence to get her there.
Our town has this really cool clinic. It’s part of one of the ministries here. Doctors and nurses volunteer to provide medical services to folks in our community who don’t have insurance coverage. I was so impressed.
We got to the building that hosts the clinic 40 minutes before they started seeing people so that we could get D’s name on the list. So we arrived at 5:50 and didn’t get seen by the doctor until almost 8:30. It was horribly hot in the waiting room and some of the less patient patients were starting to complain—even though they had gone out at least a couple times to get a smoke.
Complainers just baffle me. While I was busy marveling that there were medical professionals giving their time off and doing my best to calm D’s nerves others were starting to snap at the volunteers and medical folks. Sure I was warm. I had been waiting too. D was feeling worse than awful but she never complained. It wasn’t going to help anything—that was the difference between us and them—but not the only difference.
I began to watch and listen. There was such an incredible sense of entitlement. Where did that come from? There was no sense of appreciation. There was no wonder that people were giving of themselves, their knowledge, their time. I just didn’t get it. I still don’t.
The doctor wanted D to go to the ER and get a breathing treatment, but D was afraid to go so we talked about options with the Dr. She prescribed prednizone, an antibiotic, and an inhaler. And when we were done, she asked to pray with us. It absolutely touched my heart.
When we were done we made a dash to the only pharmacy still open in town. We’re too small for a Walgreens. Over and over D kept saying that no one had ever done anything like this for her. The culmination of that came when I helped pay for the prescriptions. She fought me on it. I assured her she could pay me back and she finally let me pay. Silly girl. And today…she was much better.
Sitting there with D, I missed Worship Team practice, I didn’t get to spend time with my hub on Valentines Day, and I didn’t get to hold Asher before he went to bed---but there’s no where else I needed to be.
And when it was over, I came home, kissed my Valentine (who bought me a pack of three Turtles—mmmmmmmmm!) and went to bed. And that’s what I’m going to do now.
Tomorrow I start Nutrisystem. I guess bed will have to wait until I make a grocery list.
Sweet dreams.
D came to work on Monday and she was wheezing quite badly. By Tuesday it was much, much worse. Last week it sounded like she had bronchitis, but this week it sounded more like emphysema. I assumed my “mommy” role and couched it in psuedo-supervisor and insisted she go to the free clinic in town. Now I know I’m not her supervisor but I used my influence to get her there.
Our town has this really cool clinic. It’s part of one of the ministries here. Doctors and nurses volunteer to provide medical services to folks in our community who don’t have insurance coverage. I was so impressed.
We got to the building that hosts the clinic 40 minutes before they started seeing people so that we could get D’s name on the list. So we arrived at 5:50 and didn’t get seen by the doctor until almost 8:30. It was horribly hot in the waiting room and some of the less patient patients were starting to complain—even though they had gone out at least a couple times to get a smoke.
Complainers just baffle me. While I was busy marveling that there were medical professionals giving their time off and doing my best to calm D’s nerves others were starting to snap at the volunteers and medical folks. Sure I was warm. I had been waiting too. D was feeling worse than awful but she never complained. It wasn’t going to help anything—that was the difference between us and them—but not the only difference.
I began to watch and listen. There was such an incredible sense of entitlement. Where did that come from? There was no sense of appreciation. There was no wonder that people were giving of themselves, their knowledge, their time. I just didn’t get it. I still don’t.
The doctor wanted D to go to the ER and get a breathing treatment, but D was afraid to go so we talked about options with the Dr. She prescribed prednizone, an antibiotic, and an inhaler. And when we were done, she asked to pray with us. It absolutely touched my heart.
When we were done we made a dash to the only pharmacy still open in town. We’re too small for a Walgreens. Over and over D kept saying that no one had ever done anything like this for her. The culmination of that came when I helped pay for the prescriptions. She fought me on it. I assured her she could pay me back and she finally let me pay. Silly girl. And today…she was much better.
Sitting there with D, I missed Worship Team practice, I didn’t get to spend time with my hub on Valentines Day, and I didn’t get to hold Asher before he went to bed---but there’s no where else I needed to be.
And when it was over, I came home, kissed my Valentine (who bought me a pack of three Turtles—mmmmmmmmm!) and went to bed. And that’s what I’m going to do now.
Tomorrow I start Nutrisystem. I guess bed will have to wait until I make a grocery list.
Sweet dreams.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
It's a Miracle...
He’s healed!
But nothing’s changed.
The doctor said that Nelson is to start wearing a work boot and loose the crutch. He prescribed work conditioning therapy and told him to come back in two months. He never asked to see Nelson walk. He didn’t really listen to what Nelson was trying to tell him.
Nelson went for his therapy session. His regular therapist couldn’t believe the new orders. He had the head of the rehab program evaluate Nelson. He asked Nelson to walk. He asked Nelson what Nelson would be doing when he went back to work. Nelson told him: lots of walking, climbing stairs and ladders, lifting many heavy objects. The director was beside himself and told Nelson there was no way. He’s going to call the Doc on Monday and let him know his findings.
Nelson got his new glasses yesterday. When he fell, back in June, he crushed his and has been using cheapo reading glasses since then. He was quite happy to have glasses scripted to his eyes!
There were both good and extraordinarily frustrating days for me at work this week. I got some orders out and that felt good. Yesterday a tool I was working with came apart and I mashed a steal pipe (about an inch in diameter—not real big) into my forehead. It still hurts and I have a bruise and bump right over my right eye. Owie.
Nelson has offered to let me give Nutrisystem a try. So I’m going to start that as soon as the food arrives.
I guess that’s all for now. I’m reading an article in my Prevention magazine about sneaking food: how it’s related to sense of worth and stress. Given what I just wrote here I think I’ll go reread the article and let you know what I’m thinking about it later.
Until then.
But nothing’s changed.
The doctor said that Nelson is to start wearing a work boot and loose the crutch. He prescribed work conditioning therapy and told him to come back in two months. He never asked to see Nelson walk. He didn’t really listen to what Nelson was trying to tell him.
Nelson went for his therapy session. His regular therapist couldn’t believe the new orders. He had the head of the rehab program evaluate Nelson. He asked Nelson to walk. He asked Nelson what Nelson would be doing when he went back to work. Nelson told him: lots of walking, climbing stairs and ladders, lifting many heavy objects. The director was beside himself and told Nelson there was no way. He’s going to call the Doc on Monday and let him know his findings.
Nelson got his new glasses yesterday. When he fell, back in June, he crushed his and has been using cheapo reading glasses since then. He was quite happy to have glasses scripted to his eyes!
There were both good and extraordinarily frustrating days for me at work this week. I got some orders out and that felt good. Yesterday a tool I was working with came apart and I mashed a steal pipe (about an inch in diameter—not real big) into my forehead. It still hurts and I have a bruise and bump right over my right eye. Owie.
Nelson has offered to let me give Nutrisystem a try. So I’m going to start that as soon as the food arrives.
I guess that’s all for now. I’m reading an article in my Prevention magazine about sneaking food: how it’s related to sense of worth and stress. Given what I just wrote here I think I’ll go reread the article and let you know what I’m thinking about it later.
Until then.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Snippets
The last time that Ann was here with the kids, Penelope did something that just cracked us all up. But after about the third time that she did it Beth looked at me and said there’s probably a sermon there. I guess she knows how I think.
Beth has one of those picture phones and the picture that’s always on it is a picture of Penelope. Beth asked her who that was a picture of and Penelope said, “You.” For the longest time when you asked who was in picture Penelope would identify everyone and when the person pointed to Penelope in the photo she would say that it was “baby.” And we would always respond, “No, that’s you.” So now she identifies herself as “you.”
Isn’t that interesting? Some people can’t look in the mirror without seeing someone else. It’s always someone else’s voice speaking in their head. They have no sense of self whatsoever. Others, clear on who they are, can look in the mirrors and while seeing themselves think only of others. They aren’t lost, but they know that their completeness is build by their connections to others.
Who do you see when you look in the mirror?
***********************************************************************************
It’s been quiet here this week. Beth went to visit at Ann’s—so my grandsweeties are together there and I’m here (insert big sigh). I guess if I get really honest it’s been a nice little break and I’m sure it will make me all that much more happy to be with them when they get home tomorrow. And then it’s my night. I take care of the baby on Friday nights so Beth can sleep.
**********************************************************************************
Tomorrow Nelson has an appointment with the doctor. We’re a bit anxious about what the outcome will be. We imagine one of three things will happen. For two weeks his physical therapist has basically told him that therapy isn’t helping. So we’re imagining that the doc will say one of a couple things: first, he could say that Nelson needs more surgery or he could say that this is as good as it gets. The latter is concerning because Nelson still can’t put weight on the ankle and needs either the crutch or walker to get around. The implications that this holds regarding his inability to work are mind boggling to us. What will life look like? The former doesn’t appeal to Nelson either. Sure, having surgery might (heavy on possibility) make things better, but he’s just so tired of hurting—and I’m tired of watching him hurt.
Work is going. I’m getting it better and getting along better. I’m able to step back a little and D handle more of the packaging responsibilities. That’s good because the work load is increasing in my new area. Sometimes my head feels like it’s going to pop trying to keep things straight in both areas. I’ve made several mistakes, but caught them all before they left the area. I just have to cut them down and then out all together. There’s still just so very much to learn.
And now I’m going to watch Dr. Phil and then make supper. Until later.
Beth has one of those picture phones and the picture that’s always on it is a picture of Penelope. Beth asked her who that was a picture of and Penelope said, “You.” For the longest time when you asked who was in picture Penelope would identify everyone and when the person pointed to Penelope in the photo she would say that it was “baby.” And we would always respond, “No, that’s you.” So now she identifies herself as “you.”
Isn’t that interesting? Some people can’t look in the mirror without seeing someone else. It’s always someone else’s voice speaking in their head. They have no sense of self whatsoever. Others, clear on who they are, can look in the mirrors and while seeing themselves think only of others. They aren’t lost, but they know that their completeness is build by their connections to others.
Who do you see when you look in the mirror?
***********************************************************************************
It’s been quiet here this week. Beth went to visit at Ann’s—so my grandsweeties are together there and I’m here (insert big sigh). I guess if I get really honest it’s been a nice little break and I’m sure it will make me all that much more happy to be with them when they get home tomorrow. And then it’s my night. I take care of the baby on Friday nights so Beth can sleep.
**********************************************************************************
Tomorrow Nelson has an appointment with the doctor. We’re a bit anxious about what the outcome will be. We imagine one of three things will happen. For two weeks his physical therapist has basically told him that therapy isn’t helping. So we’re imagining that the doc will say one of a couple things: first, he could say that Nelson needs more surgery or he could say that this is as good as it gets. The latter is concerning because Nelson still can’t put weight on the ankle and needs either the crutch or walker to get around. The implications that this holds regarding his inability to work are mind boggling to us. What will life look like? The former doesn’t appeal to Nelson either. Sure, having surgery might (heavy on possibility) make things better, but he’s just so tired of hurting—and I’m tired of watching him hurt.
Work is going. I’m getting it better and getting along better. I’m able to step back a little and D handle more of the packaging responsibilities. That’s good because the work load is increasing in my new area. Sometimes my head feels like it’s going to pop trying to keep things straight in both areas. I’ve made several mistakes, but caught them all before they left the area. I just have to cut them down and then out all together. There’s still just so very much to learn.
And now I’m going to watch Dr. Phil and then make supper. Until later.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Hand Full of Poop
It’s just me and Asher hanging out. Nelson and Beth are at the grocery and as far as I’m concerned they can take their good sweet time…because I’m savoring these moments—big time!
This morning Beth and Asher came to church. We then offered to keep him during Sunday School so that she could go home and get a nap. It was too easy! She jumped on that like…well, fill in the quickest analogy you can think of.
It was fun showing him off in Sunday School. Nelson kept identifying Asher as his new toy. Pepa! He was such a good baby. Everyone marveled at his sweet nature and his red hair.
Last night the funniest thing happened. I’ve been on poopy diaper patrol lately. Typically, I don’t mind, but this one was one for the books. I lade Asher on the floor on top of a receiving blanket and had successfully cleaned his little bottom. As I was getting ready to put on the new diaper he passed some gas. I sped up, but before I could get the new one completely under and my hand out of the way he pooped on me, on the banket and even into the new diaper. Beth was cracking up. Then as I turned him to the side to wipe up the mess a little he proceeded to pee the straightest little stream all over the floor. This just about put Beth into spasms she was laughing so hard. Nelson was sitting on his bed asking for a camera. Asher was doing the gassy grin and I still had a hand full of baby poopy. It was comical. No sooner had we cleaned up the mess but Beth was on the phone sharing the story and the laughter with her sister.
I prefer today’s peaceful cuddle time, but will confess last night’s laughter was pretty special too.
I was reading someone’s entry earlier and it caused quite a time of reflection for me. She was describing a trip to the ER with her 17yr old son, and how though in the process of life of letting go he grabbed her arm and asked her not to leave. I related so well to that this week.
Beth came into my room at 3:15 Monday morning. I awoke before she walked in when I heard her make her way to the bathroom. As she entered my room I was quick to ask, “Contractions?” She thought so. We called the hospital and was put through to her doctor. He instructed us to come in.
It was hard to watch my baby in so much pain. Her labor was very intense and in her back. Thank God for the epidural. That only left 2 hours of pushing. My job was to count and help her with that pushing. There were times when she snapped, but in her eyes I knew she wanted me there. I don’t know what words to use to describe the emotion as I witnessed Asher emerging. Then I got to cut the cord. He was so perfect. I treasure the entire experience.
Later, after moving to a quieter room, Beth was holding Asher and looking at him with such love. I smiled and said, “You’re a mom.” She was still trying to wrap her brain around it. It was just too amazing. “He’s yours forever.” That’s some pretty powerful stuff.
It reminded me of when she was in eighth grade. I think it was in January, maybe February. She had gone sledding with a friend. I was called at work that she had fallen off the sled and broken her arm—come home quick! That wasn’t hard since the hill was out front of our agency and we lived just at the bottom of the hill.
As I dashed home, I remember praying, “Please God let it be her right arm.” Strange prayer. Like God was going to say, “Oops, I broke the wrong arm…better fix that.” Reflecting on that moment, I’m glad hears our intent, especially when our words make no sense. I just desperately wanted God to be taking care of my baby.
Well, it was her right arm, and though that left her able to write, there were still things she couldn’t do: like wash her hair. Now, perhaps you can remember being 13 or 14, or you remember when your kids were. It’s the beginning of independence and the last thing you want to do is admit to your mom you can’t do something, or worse that you need her (gasp and horror).
I tried really hard not to let on how much I really treasured being needed again. I knew that days were coming when little Miss Independent was going to spread her wings and fly. I wanted it and dreaded it both at the same time. The time on Monday reminded me of hair washing. She may never need me in the same way again, but she will always need me. And that’s worth a hand full of poop any day!
Asher is asleep on my shoulder right now, making cooing little dream sounds while he sleeps. I just have to let you know—I feel so blessed.
This morning Beth and Asher came to church. We then offered to keep him during Sunday School so that she could go home and get a nap. It was too easy! She jumped on that like…well, fill in the quickest analogy you can think of.
It was fun showing him off in Sunday School. Nelson kept identifying Asher as his new toy. Pepa! He was such a good baby. Everyone marveled at his sweet nature and his red hair.
Last night the funniest thing happened. I’ve been on poopy diaper patrol lately. Typically, I don’t mind, but this one was one for the books. I lade Asher on the floor on top of a receiving blanket and had successfully cleaned his little bottom. As I was getting ready to put on the new diaper he passed some gas. I sped up, but before I could get the new one completely under and my hand out of the way he pooped on me, on the banket and even into the new diaper. Beth was cracking up. Then as I turned him to the side to wipe up the mess a little he proceeded to pee the straightest little stream all over the floor. This just about put Beth into spasms she was laughing so hard. Nelson was sitting on his bed asking for a camera. Asher was doing the gassy grin and I still had a hand full of baby poopy. It was comical. No sooner had we cleaned up the mess but Beth was on the phone sharing the story and the laughter with her sister.
I prefer today’s peaceful cuddle time, but will confess last night’s laughter was pretty special too.
I was reading someone’s entry earlier and it caused quite a time of reflection for me. She was describing a trip to the ER with her 17yr old son, and how though in the process of life of letting go he grabbed her arm and asked her not to leave. I related so well to that this week.
Beth came into my room at 3:15 Monday morning. I awoke before she walked in when I heard her make her way to the bathroom. As she entered my room I was quick to ask, “Contractions?” She thought so. We called the hospital and was put through to her doctor. He instructed us to come in.
It was hard to watch my baby in so much pain. Her labor was very intense and in her back. Thank God for the epidural. That only left 2 hours of pushing. My job was to count and help her with that pushing. There were times when she snapped, but in her eyes I knew she wanted me there. I don’t know what words to use to describe the emotion as I witnessed Asher emerging. Then I got to cut the cord. He was so perfect. I treasure the entire experience.
Later, after moving to a quieter room, Beth was holding Asher and looking at him with such love. I smiled and said, “You’re a mom.” She was still trying to wrap her brain around it. It was just too amazing. “He’s yours forever.” That’s some pretty powerful stuff.
It reminded me of when she was in eighth grade. I think it was in January, maybe February. She had gone sledding with a friend. I was called at work that she had fallen off the sled and broken her arm—come home quick! That wasn’t hard since the hill was out front of our agency and we lived just at the bottom of the hill.
As I dashed home, I remember praying, “Please God let it be her right arm.” Strange prayer. Like God was going to say, “Oops, I broke the wrong arm…better fix that.” Reflecting on that moment, I’m glad hears our intent, especially when our words make no sense. I just desperately wanted God to be taking care of my baby.
Well, it was her right arm, and though that left her able to write, there were still things she couldn’t do: like wash her hair. Now, perhaps you can remember being 13 or 14, or you remember when your kids were. It’s the beginning of independence and the last thing you want to do is admit to your mom you can’t do something, or worse that you need her (gasp and horror).
I tried really hard not to let on how much I really treasured being needed again. I knew that days were coming when little Miss Independent was going to spread her wings and fly. I wanted it and dreaded it both at the same time. The time on Monday reminded me of hair washing. She may never need me in the same way again, but she will always need me. And that’s worth a hand full of poop any day!
Asher is asleep on my shoulder right now, making cooing little dream sounds while he sleeps. I just have to let you know—I feel so blessed.
Friday, January 27, 2006
The Week In Review
Wow. This has been one crazy kind of week. I will confess openly that I am abundantly thankful that it is Friday.
Baby first. Asher continues to be amazingly beautiful. Beth would like for him to get his days and nights straightened around. We’ve told her that will come. Ann came over on Tuesday with Penelope and Caden. I have a wonderful picture of all three grandsweeties but I don’t know how to post it. (Any and all coaching will be accepted.) Nelson has decided that Asher is Pepa’s boy.
Nelson. (insert deep sigh) The therapist told him at his session on Wednesday that he didn’t believe that therapy would increase the functioning of his ankle. This may be as good as it gets. That was really hard to hear. His next doctor’s apt isn’t until the 10th. So now we wait and see. Edit: Friday’s session held no better news.
Work. (insert head shake) I’m exhausted. A big part of that is mental (but you knew that all along). I start my day by getting everything going in packaging. I’ve been training D to take my job—I’ve been doing that from the beginning really, but it’s for real now. She’s feeling totally overwhelmed and inadequate for the job so I’ve been doing heavy duty encouraging there. Once things are situated there I’ve been moving to the new department to learn how to do that job. The new position is very hands on. I’m working with all kinds of power tools. I actually have a key to the toolbox—now that’s a hoot! Talk about feeling inadequate!
Now, I think I’ve mentioned, at least once or twice that I am a huge control freak. I am now in a situation where finding even threads of control are extremely limited at best. Too many people are telling me what to do. The guy who used to run the floor portion still works at the plant and has all kinds of knowledge, but doesn’t disseminate it well and doesn’t like the paper man of the department who doesn’t really know how to build everything who would rather I go to the engineer who is extremely soft spoken and who would rather defer to the guy who used to run the department who I’ve been told I’m not supposed to go to. Did I succeed in making that sound horribly confusing and conflictual? I hope so, because it is!
Edit: I talked to Ed about things this morning and he was wonderful. I was open about my frustration and my desire to be able to do my job well—and to the company’s satisfaction. He was able to assure. I left his office feeling excited and empowered.
And that’s just the mental exhaustion. Last summer they moved the packaging department to the back corner of the plant and then moved my office to close to that area. The new department is back right next to the old department—in the opposite corner from the packaging department. So I’m back to walking HUGE amounts either to go fix problems in packaging or just to go to my office. I keep trying to think of the benefits of this added exercise, but my weary legs are just thankful it’s Friday.
Writing. Last night I went to my first writers’ circle. The meeting wasn’t what I had anticipated, but it was okay. Each of us read a couple pieces and received input from the group. I read my piece from Christmas, “Fear Not”, and on from last summer called “Possibility.” I will go again and also probably seek out other sharing opportunities. Their encouragement (along with yours) has given me the oomph I needed to get some of my things out there and to also get busy on putting together other things for publication.
And now I’m getting ready to help give Asher a bath. What a wonderful way to start my weekend! May there be small bundles of joy in your weekend, too!
Baby first. Asher continues to be amazingly beautiful. Beth would like for him to get his days and nights straightened around. We’ve told her that will come. Ann came over on Tuesday with Penelope and Caden. I have a wonderful picture of all three grandsweeties but I don’t know how to post it. (Any and all coaching will be accepted.) Nelson has decided that Asher is Pepa’s boy.
Nelson. (insert deep sigh) The therapist told him at his session on Wednesday that he didn’t believe that therapy would increase the functioning of his ankle. This may be as good as it gets. That was really hard to hear. His next doctor’s apt isn’t until the 10th. So now we wait and see. Edit: Friday’s session held no better news.
Work. (insert head shake) I’m exhausted. A big part of that is mental (but you knew that all along). I start my day by getting everything going in packaging. I’ve been training D to take my job—I’ve been doing that from the beginning really, but it’s for real now. She’s feeling totally overwhelmed and inadequate for the job so I’ve been doing heavy duty encouraging there. Once things are situated there I’ve been moving to the new department to learn how to do that job. The new position is very hands on. I’m working with all kinds of power tools. I actually have a key to the toolbox—now that’s a hoot! Talk about feeling inadequate!
Now, I think I’ve mentioned, at least once or twice that I am a huge control freak. I am now in a situation where finding even threads of control are extremely limited at best. Too many people are telling me what to do. The guy who used to run the floor portion still works at the plant and has all kinds of knowledge, but doesn’t disseminate it well and doesn’t like the paper man of the department who doesn’t really know how to build everything who would rather I go to the engineer who is extremely soft spoken and who would rather defer to the guy who used to run the department who I’ve been told I’m not supposed to go to. Did I succeed in making that sound horribly confusing and conflictual? I hope so, because it is!
Edit: I talked to Ed about things this morning and he was wonderful. I was open about my frustration and my desire to be able to do my job well—and to the company’s satisfaction. He was able to assure. I left his office feeling excited and empowered.
And that’s just the mental exhaustion. Last summer they moved the packaging department to the back corner of the plant and then moved my office to close to that area. The new department is back right next to the old department—in the opposite corner from the packaging department. So I’m back to walking HUGE amounts either to go fix problems in packaging or just to go to my office. I keep trying to think of the benefits of this added exercise, but my weary legs are just thankful it’s Friday.
Writing. Last night I went to my first writers’ circle. The meeting wasn’t what I had anticipated, but it was okay. Each of us read a couple pieces and received input from the group. I read my piece from Christmas, “Fear Not”, and on from last summer called “Possibility.” I will go again and also probably seek out other sharing opportunities. Their encouragement (along with yours) has given me the oomph I needed to get some of my things out there and to also get busy on putting together other things for publication.
And now I’m getting ready to help give Asher a bath. What a wonderful way to start my weekend! May there be small bundles of joy in your weekend, too!
Monday, January 23, 2006
It's A Boy!
(Blue confetti is flying everywhere!)
Nicholas Asher was born at 1:43pm this afternoon.
He weighed 8lbs and 7oz.
He is 191/4 inches long.
He is absolutely beautiful!
Mommy is taking a nap.
Pepaw needed to come home and put his foot up.
Memaw is going to get the 'specially ordered dinner of Whopper and Onion Rings (two sauces), a large fountaine Pepsi, and a bag of sour cream and onion chips---she worked so hard she can have whatever she wants!
More to come tomorrow!
Nicholas Asher was born at 1:43pm this afternoon.
He weighed 8lbs and 7oz.
He is 191/4 inches long.
He is absolutely beautiful!
Mommy is taking a nap.
Pepaw needed to come home and put his foot up.
Memaw is going to get the 'specially ordered dinner of Whopper and Onion Rings (two sauces), a large fountaine Pepsi, and a bag of sour cream and onion chips---she worked so hard she can have whatever she wants!
More to come tomorrow!
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Kicked to the Curb
Turning on to our street when I came home from work on Thursday, I noticed that two houses down from our house there was a huge stack of stuff out on the tree lawn. Friday is trash day, but they only take trash on trash days. They don’t even take lawn/leaf refuse. They take trash on Tuesdays too, and that’s when to set out your recyclables. But nothing large is allowed. Until April, that is.
In April the town is divided into sectors and during your assigned week you can put anything and everything on the tree lawn. I have actually seen a kitchen sink! What’s really funny during that time is the trucks that cruise up and down the streets and the scads of people who scavenge through the piles and piles of peoples’ cast offs.
So it struck me as very odd that there was so much sitting out on the tree lawn. The house had had some remodeling done last fall, and initially I thought perhaps they were just retting out a bit more to go along with the remodeling. After all, one of the things boldly planted out on the tree lawn was a bright orange sofa.
A little later Nelson and I went out to dinner. We noticed that the pile had grown significantly, but not nearly as much as it grew by the time we came back an hour later. And it all began to make me wonder: why? What was going on? Did a neighbor die? Was the family cleaning up and out?
It reminded me of when my grandmother went into the Nursing Home. She was a collector. My parents called her a pack rat. She had so many antiques. She had stacks of quilts. When I was a child I remember venturing into the “front room.” There was no heat in the front room. There weren’t any lights in the front room. We would go there to retrieve treasures of all sorts and food from the chest freezer. Anyway, the door barely shut at the Home before my parent had a huge dumpster backed up to Grandma’s back door and they donned one-piece jumpsuits and emptied out the house. And everything, E-VER-Y-THING went into the dumpster.
I guess that shouldn’t have been too surprising to me. When I was very young my mother’s parents moved to South Carolina and we moved into their home. In the basement of that home was a beautiful round claw foot oak table. It ended up trashed. Later we moved into a house that had several attics. In one of the attics there were several boxes of antique glass. My mom threw them out without even unpacking them. Then, after my dad died and my mom moved to Arizona she gave away my great-grandmother’s bedroom suite and secretary desk. Gave them away to non-family members who had no interest in them and no emotional ties…like me.
There had been a group of people hanging out at the back of the house one time when we came by. There was a large pick-up backed up to the house with a few items in the back. And then it was gone. Who were those people? Kids? Relatives who just didn’t want to wade through all the “junk”?
The tree lawn was still piled high when I got home from work today. There’s a two-drawer file cabinet sitting there that looks good to me, but for some reason I just don’t think I could pick through the stuff. It feels somewhat disrespectful, cold and calloused.
I started thinking about what would happen when I die. Nelson has informed me that he is going first, his estimate is within five years. Annie has already informed of several items that she wants when I die. It’s kind of nice to know I have things that someone might want, especially when I realize I could live without most of it.
Things I don’t want on the curb:
-Daisy’s lamp. Daisy influenced my life in countless ways. She died during my senior year of cancer. She did macramé. Right before she died she started a hanging lamp. It lacked one panel for completion. Her husband and children got it finished and gave it to me as a wedding gift. It’s hanging over my “corner chair.”
-My great grandmothers mantle clock and the grandfather clock we gave my parents as a 25th anniversary gift.
-Grandma’s baby dish. It’s a crock like dish and there are still some of the decals showing.
-My books. I have lots of books. And while I have culled my collection since I’m no longer a pastor or counselor, there are still five shelving units and countless unpacked boxes. Part of the collection that I hope gets passed on are the very old children’s books.
-My brass rub. When I was in Europe during college, my roommate and I did several brass rubbings. I did one of a medieval nativity on black velvet paper with silver. My dad liked the piece so much he had it professionally matted and framed. It came back to us after my dad died.
-My Pooh collection. I have stuffed Poohs; Pooh watches; Pooh games; Pooh dishes; Pooh mugs; Pooh clocks; and newest of all a set of Pooh kitchen canisters.
The things that last though, I hope, won’t be found in boxes or on shelves. I hope not just some of my words will last, but the love behind them. I hope that there will be those who will remember my hard but be quicker to mention my constant love. When I die, there won’t be lots of money to hand out, so I hope that people will see that I spent my life on others.
I guess I hope when I’m gone that there won’t be much to kick out to the curb.
In April the town is divided into sectors and during your assigned week you can put anything and everything on the tree lawn. I have actually seen a kitchen sink! What’s really funny during that time is the trucks that cruise up and down the streets and the scads of people who scavenge through the piles and piles of peoples’ cast offs.
So it struck me as very odd that there was so much sitting out on the tree lawn. The house had had some remodeling done last fall, and initially I thought perhaps they were just retting out a bit more to go along with the remodeling. After all, one of the things boldly planted out on the tree lawn was a bright orange sofa.
A little later Nelson and I went out to dinner. We noticed that the pile had grown significantly, but not nearly as much as it grew by the time we came back an hour later. And it all began to make me wonder: why? What was going on? Did a neighbor die? Was the family cleaning up and out?
It reminded me of when my grandmother went into the Nursing Home. She was a collector. My parents called her a pack rat. She had so many antiques. She had stacks of quilts. When I was a child I remember venturing into the “front room.” There was no heat in the front room. There weren’t any lights in the front room. We would go there to retrieve treasures of all sorts and food from the chest freezer. Anyway, the door barely shut at the Home before my parent had a huge dumpster backed up to Grandma’s back door and they donned one-piece jumpsuits and emptied out the house. And everything, E-VER-Y-THING went into the dumpster.
I guess that shouldn’t have been too surprising to me. When I was very young my mother’s parents moved to South Carolina and we moved into their home. In the basement of that home was a beautiful round claw foot oak table. It ended up trashed. Later we moved into a house that had several attics. In one of the attics there were several boxes of antique glass. My mom threw them out without even unpacking them. Then, after my dad died and my mom moved to Arizona she gave away my great-grandmother’s bedroom suite and secretary desk. Gave them away to non-family members who had no interest in them and no emotional ties…like me.
There had been a group of people hanging out at the back of the house one time when we came by. There was a large pick-up backed up to the house with a few items in the back. And then it was gone. Who were those people? Kids? Relatives who just didn’t want to wade through all the “junk”?
The tree lawn was still piled high when I got home from work today. There’s a two-drawer file cabinet sitting there that looks good to me, but for some reason I just don’t think I could pick through the stuff. It feels somewhat disrespectful, cold and calloused.
I started thinking about what would happen when I die. Nelson has informed me that he is going first, his estimate is within five years. Annie has already informed of several items that she wants when I die. It’s kind of nice to know I have things that someone might want, especially when I realize I could live without most of it.
Things I don’t want on the curb:
-Daisy’s lamp. Daisy influenced my life in countless ways. She died during my senior year of cancer. She did macramé. Right before she died she started a hanging lamp. It lacked one panel for completion. Her husband and children got it finished and gave it to me as a wedding gift. It’s hanging over my “corner chair.”
-My great grandmothers mantle clock and the grandfather clock we gave my parents as a 25th anniversary gift.
-Grandma’s baby dish. It’s a crock like dish and there are still some of the decals showing.
-My books. I have lots of books. And while I have culled my collection since I’m no longer a pastor or counselor, there are still five shelving units and countless unpacked boxes. Part of the collection that I hope gets passed on are the very old children’s books.
-My brass rub. When I was in Europe during college, my roommate and I did several brass rubbings. I did one of a medieval nativity on black velvet paper with silver. My dad liked the piece so much he had it professionally matted and framed. It came back to us after my dad died.
-My Pooh collection. I have stuffed Poohs; Pooh watches; Pooh games; Pooh dishes; Pooh mugs; Pooh clocks; and newest of all a set of Pooh kitchen canisters.
The things that last though, I hope, won’t be found in boxes or on shelves. I hope not just some of my words will last, but the love behind them. I hope that there will be those who will remember my hard but be quicker to mention my constant love. When I die, there won’t be lots of money to hand out, so I hope that people will see that I spent my life on others.
I guess I hope when I’m gone that there won’t be much to kick out to the curb.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Discoveries
My how time flies.
We still don’t have a baby. Looks like he may arrive right on time. Beth is still working, albeit her shifts are reduced, but she’s plugging away.
Nelson has now added an electrical shock to his therapy. He’s getting around better and doing more things for himself.
A really, really interesting thing happened at work. Since Tuesday morning I’ve been trying to figure something. It wasn’t until I started typing this entry that the answer dawned on me.
One of the guys I work with came to me confused and concerned that one of the ladies in the plant mentioned someone to him that I had only said to him AND WROTE ABOUT HERE. Imagine that. And now, by tracing back the who said what to whom, I know who has been reading my diary from work—at least one of the “whos” and since I know that she doesn’t like me it makes sense why she would try and spread stuff around.
I had a meeting with the Job and Family Services worker and with the woman who had been spreading rumors and stirring up trouble. We decided to give her another chance. Some of the others were leery about it (those she had been spreading rumors about), but this work program is all about second chances. We’ll see how she does. If yesterday is any indication she’ll be okay.
My first Sunday playing on the Praise Team went well. I received a lot of encouragement to continue. At the rehearsal there was a hymn we were using that didn’t have chords written down and they realized it right away and helped me out. My fears are being put to rest and I’m getting excited about the new opportunities. I need my calluses to build up so my fingers will stop hurting—but it’s a good pain (if that makes any sense).
Yesterday, at the end of the day Mr. R came to the packaging office with one of the area pastors. I had heard of this man, he’s on staff at one of the larger churches in town. Mr. R wanted me to describe the T-Net program and its benefits. I jumped quickly into spiel mode—but it was so much more than that. At my old job, way back when it seems, I would go out and represent the agency and drum up dollars to support the program. Even though I knew this opportunity might be about dollars, I considered it such an opportunity to share the rich blessings I have experienced by being a part of this ministry and what I have seen it accomplish in the lives of others.
There’s more I want to write about but I need to get myself around for work. We’ll finish this later on…
We still don’t have a baby. Looks like he may arrive right on time. Beth is still working, albeit her shifts are reduced, but she’s plugging away.
Nelson has now added an electrical shock to his therapy. He’s getting around better and doing more things for himself.
A really, really interesting thing happened at work. Since Tuesday morning I’ve been trying to figure something. It wasn’t until I started typing this entry that the answer dawned on me.
One of the guys I work with came to me confused and concerned that one of the ladies in the plant mentioned someone to him that I had only said to him AND WROTE ABOUT HERE. Imagine that. And now, by tracing back the who said what to whom, I know who has been reading my diary from work—at least one of the “whos” and since I know that she doesn’t like me it makes sense why she would try and spread stuff around.
I had a meeting with the Job and Family Services worker and with the woman who had been spreading rumors and stirring up trouble. We decided to give her another chance. Some of the others were leery about it (those she had been spreading rumors about), but this work program is all about second chances. We’ll see how she does. If yesterday is any indication she’ll be okay.
My first Sunday playing on the Praise Team went well. I received a lot of encouragement to continue. At the rehearsal there was a hymn we were using that didn’t have chords written down and they realized it right away and helped me out. My fears are being put to rest and I’m getting excited about the new opportunities. I need my calluses to build up so my fingers will stop hurting—but it’s a good pain (if that makes any sense).
Yesterday, at the end of the day Mr. R came to the packaging office with one of the area pastors. I had heard of this man, he’s on staff at one of the larger churches in town. Mr. R wanted me to describe the T-Net program and its benefits. I jumped quickly into spiel mode—but it was so much more than that. At my old job, way back when it seems, I would go out and represent the agency and drum up dollars to support the program. Even though I knew this opportunity might be about dollars, I considered it such an opportunity to share the rich blessings I have experienced by being a part of this ministry and what I have seen it accomplish in the lives of others.
There’s more I want to write about but I need to get myself around for work. We’ll finish this later on…
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Life Part Two
Still no baby. And Beth even worked a double shift yesterday. Going to put the crib together today.
Good news on Nelson. The therapist felt that Nelson hadn’t hurt his ankle. All the paperwork for payment on the therapy had been corrected for the past and put on file for the future. They did the “squeeze” on Nelson’s ankle and it doesn’t look like what we thought was swelling is swelling. He’s just going to have one large cankle. He’s been walking more without the boot and trying to get around without the crutch. Our house is good for this as we are tight fit and there’s plenty of furniture and “stuff” to reach out to as he walks from room to room.
I thought some more about how I described my joining the Praise Team. I really am excited for the opportunity, but feel way out of my league. Here’s an example of what I mean. I told the group up front I’m a REAL basic player. I told them about an incident I observed when I got to church early one morning and watched them practice. One of the singers complained about the key the music was in (she said she couldn’t find a harmony—whatever) so the musicians commenced to play the song in three different keys trying to find one for her to play in. I can’t do that. I need music written out in front of me in very basic chords. They nodded in understanding.
Then I went to my first practice on Tuesday. The leader had given us a CD of the music and I had listened to it several times at work. While we were practicing one of the songs I was doing my best to finger pick the chords rather than strum—adds a little and it’s as fancy as I get. I leaned in close behind the piano player and couldn’t hardly believe how badly my guitar was out of tune. At the end of the song I looked at the top of her music and there was a note she had written about changing to a different key. I wasn’t out of tune I was playing in the original key. No one told me we were changing the key. I felt foolish and even more sure that I wasn’t going to fit in.
It snowed last night, but worse than the snow was the wind. I was afraid when I crawled out of bed this morning I was going to find the house sitting in a strange place with a bunch of munchkins gathered around singing some strange song. But we’re still in Ohio, Toto. And that’s probably a good thing, wouldn’t want to travel to far from home with a baby so close to being born.
Actually, it seems like marvelous weather for some hot chocolate. So if you’ll excuse me…I wonder if we still have any whipped cream…mmmmmmmmmm.
Good news on Nelson. The therapist felt that Nelson hadn’t hurt his ankle. All the paperwork for payment on the therapy had been corrected for the past and put on file for the future. They did the “squeeze” on Nelson’s ankle and it doesn’t look like what we thought was swelling is swelling. He’s just going to have one large cankle. He’s been walking more without the boot and trying to get around without the crutch. Our house is good for this as we are tight fit and there’s plenty of furniture and “stuff” to reach out to as he walks from room to room.
I thought some more about how I described my joining the Praise Team. I really am excited for the opportunity, but feel way out of my league. Here’s an example of what I mean. I told the group up front I’m a REAL basic player. I told them about an incident I observed when I got to church early one morning and watched them practice. One of the singers complained about the key the music was in (she said she couldn’t find a harmony—whatever) so the musicians commenced to play the song in three different keys trying to find one for her to play in. I can’t do that. I need music written out in front of me in very basic chords. They nodded in understanding.
Then I went to my first practice on Tuesday. The leader had given us a CD of the music and I had listened to it several times at work. While we were practicing one of the songs I was doing my best to finger pick the chords rather than strum—adds a little and it’s as fancy as I get. I leaned in close behind the piano player and couldn’t hardly believe how badly my guitar was out of tune. At the end of the song I looked at the top of her music and there was a note she had written about changing to a different key. I wasn’t out of tune I was playing in the original key. No one told me we were changing the key. I felt foolish and even more sure that I wasn’t going to fit in.
It snowed last night, but worse than the snow was the wind. I was afraid when I crawled out of bed this morning I was going to find the house sitting in a strange place with a bunch of munchkins gathered around singing some strange song. But we’re still in Ohio, Toto. And that’s probably a good thing, wouldn’t want to travel to far from home with a baby so close to being born.
Actually, it seems like marvelous weather for some hot chocolate. So if you’ll excuse me…I wonder if we still have any whipped cream…mmmmmmmmmm.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Life
Still no baby. Tomorrow is a full moon.
Nelson walked up the stairs to go to the bathroom on Thursday. He heard something “snap” in his ankle. It’s been super sore since then. He’s been battling with Workman’s Comp, the therapy place, and the Dr. office about getting his therapy paid for. Someone isn’t doing the paperwork properly and in a timely fashion. So we ended up with a $2000 bill—it sort of goes along with the over $400 gas bill…and it hasn’t even really been that cold. Yippee.
It’s been a rough week at work. Today was the emotionally worst. On the 3rd a new program began and I’m supervising it. These new folks are working to be able to maintain their food stamps and other government assistance. One of these workers is a very unhappy and mean spirited woman who likes to gossip and make up stories about people. Well, she had a little info about me and she ran with it and decided to tell everyone on both work crews what she thought she new, but she was horribly wrong--almost laughably so. She also performed her character assassination on one of the other workers. It was a good thing for her that she didn’t feel well and decided not to work today. When I learned what she did I immediately called Dan and told him that she was no longer welcome on the work team. I will do everything in my power to make our workplace safe and positive.
The interesting thing that did come out of the above problem was the opportunity to discuss with a couple of employees the problem of making assumptions. Some of the new folks had never had contact with people who had been in jail or prison. They had been quick to judge based on what the nasty woman had said. They felt badly because after having worked with some of us they realized we were people who made mistakes, but we were doing everything in our power to put our lives back together.
It’s no fun being the target of someone’s venom, but if I can use my situation to help others then I guess I shouldn’t be upset.
Ok, I’m getting tired. Days are sort of like that for me. I get up, early. Play all my Scrabble games and read a few diaries/blogs. I work hard until I’m done. I come home, play Scrabble, read diaries/blogs, watch some TV and go to bed. Some days I get inspired to do housework and sometimes I write. Most nights the writing seems like drivel. I get better stuff on the weekend. Then I’m in bed around 9:30.
Two things are going to change that pattern somewhat. On Tuesday nights I’ll be attending Praise Team practice…at least for now. I was double teamed on that one. Nelson and the team leader were in cahoots and before I knew it I was agreeing to be a part of the 8:30 praise team. I felt way out of my league and may not be able to continue. I really am just a strummer. Then on Thursdays Nelson and I will be meeting with our new small group as a part of our church’s participation in the 40 Days of Community. I’m looking forward to it. It’ll be an opportunity to meet new people as we were randomly assigned to a group.
So that’s life. And bed is next.
Nelson walked up the stairs to go to the bathroom on Thursday. He heard something “snap” in his ankle. It’s been super sore since then. He’s been battling with Workman’s Comp, the therapy place, and the Dr. office about getting his therapy paid for. Someone isn’t doing the paperwork properly and in a timely fashion. So we ended up with a $2000 bill—it sort of goes along with the over $400 gas bill…and it hasn’t even really been that cold. Yippee.
It’s been a rough week at work. Today was the emotionally worst. On the 3rd a new program began and I’m supervising it. These new folks are working to be able to maintain their food stamps and other government assistance. One of these workers is a very unhappy and mean spirited woman who likes to gossip and make up stories about people. Well, she had a little info about me and she ran with it and decided to tell everyone on both work crews what she thought she new, but she was horribly wrong--almost laughably so. She also performed her character assassination on one of the other workers. It was a good thing for her that she didn’t feel well and decided not to work today. When I learned what she did I immediately called Dan and told him that she was no longer welcome on the work team. I will do everything in my power to make our workplace safe and positive.
The interesting thing that did come out of the above problem was the opportunity to discuss with a couple of employees the problem of making assumptions. Some of the new folks had never had contact with people who had been in jail or prison. They had been quick to judge based on what the nasty woman had said. They felt badly because after having worked with some of us they realized we were people who made mistakes, but we were doing everything in our power to put our lives back together.
It’s no fun being the target of someone’s venom, but if I can use my situation to help others then I guess I shouldn’t be upset.
Ok, I’m getting tired. Days are sort of like that for me. I get up, early. Play all my Scrabble games and read a few diaries/blogs. I work hard until I’m done. I come home, play Scrabble, read diaries/blogs, watch some TV and go to bed. Some days I get inspired to do housework and sometimes I write. Most nights the writing seems like drivel. I get better stuff on the weekend. Then I’m in bed around 9:30.
Two things are going to change that pattern somewhat. On Tuesday nights I’ll be attending Praise Team practice…at least for now. I was double teamed on that one. Nelson and the team leader were in cahoots and before I knew it I was agreeing to be a part of the 8:30 praise team. I felt way out of my league and may not be able to continue. I really am just a strummer. Then on Thursdays Nelson and I will be meeting with our new small group as a part of our church’s participation in the 40 Days of Community. I’m looking forward to it. It’ll be an opportunity to meet new people as we were randomly assigned to a group.
So that’s life. And bed is next.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Dream Sequence
I had a very interesting dream this morning. I know it was morning because I woke up after it and since it was the last dream I think I had I remember the most from it.
I dreamt that I was working for R Company, doing the job I do right now. A group from the company we have the packaging contract with came to visit our plant. Now there’s a woman that I have email contact with who is curt in her emails and just seems extremely unpleasant. I cringe when I see she has sent me an email. Any time I have to ask a question it seems she replies in her curt manner and uses the opportunity to cancel an order. It’s gotten so bad that I ask for permission to email her, because I fear her canceling of orders.
So, in the dream the group from T Company walks up to where I’m working. Mr. R is standing at the back of the group. This woman walks right up to me and offers me a job in the T Company, offers me a very large salary and a prestigious position. The catch is that I would have to work for her. I asked several questions and then looked right at Mr. R and turned the job down flat. He seemed to smile with such approval. Then I woke up.
Now this dream has weird written all over it, but also a couple of other things that felt really good. And surprisingly, they aren’t the things I would have suspected. Usually, work dreams for me are filled with feelings of failure: too much on my plate, missing deadlines, fumbling and bumbling. There was none of that in this dream. Normally, at least in real life, to be given such an offer would lift my saggy self-esteem up a bunch of notches. That part didn’t even faze me. More money would be such a blessing (especially with the baby due at any time), but it was no motivator at all.
I really enjoy my job and I can’t hardly describe how much I really like the people I work with and for. The very thought of having to work with this woman, even with commensurate pay was so incredibly unappealing—I refused without even thinking about talking to Nelson about it. Even in the dream I just knew he would understand. (We later discussed it and he agreed with my decision.)
Later Nelson and I were discussing how we slept and I told him about the dream. Then he told me he had a dream about Home Depot. Well, that was the other dream I had…too weird to go into. We just thought it was interesting we both dreamed about the same place and had some of the same people in the dream and some weird twists that were kinda similar.
I don’t interpret them. I barely remember them. But I do believe they have meaning.
I dreamt that I was working for R Company, doing the job I do right now. A group from the company we have the packaging contract with came to visit our plant. Now there’s a woman that I have email contact with who is curt in her emails and just seems extremely unpleasant. I cringe when I see she has sent me an email. Any time I have to ask a question it seems she replies in her curt manner and uses the opportunity to cancel an order. It’s gotten so bad that I ask for permission to email her, because I fear her canceling of orders.
So, in the dream the group from T Company walks up to where I’m working. Mr. R is standing at the back of the group. This woman walks right up to me and offers me a job in the T Company, offers me a very large salary and a prestigious position. The catch is that I would have to work for her. I asked several questions and then looked right at Mr. R and turned the job down flat. He seemed to smile with such approval. Then I woke up.
Now this dream has weird written all over it, but also a couple of other things that felt really good. And surprisingly, they aren’t the things I would have suspected. Usually, work dreams for me are filled with feelings of failure: too much on my plate, missing deadlines, fumbling and bumbling. There was none of that in this dream. Normally, at least in real life, to be given such an offer would lift my saggy self-esteem up a bunch of notches. That part didn’t even faze me. More money would be such a blessing (especially with the baby due at any time), but it was no motivator at all.
I really enjoy my job and I can’t hardly describe how much I really like the people I work with and for. The very thought of having to work with this woman, even with commensurate pay was so incredibly unappealing—I refused without even thinking about talking to Nelson about it. Even in the dream I just knew he would understand. (We later discussed it and he agreed with my decision.)
Later Nelson and I were discussing how we slept and I told him about the dream. Then he told me he had a dream about Home Depot. Well, that was the other dream I had…too weird to go into. We just thought it was interesting we both dreamed about the same place and had some of the same people in the dream and some weird twists that were kinda similar.
I don’t interpret them. I barely remember them. But I do believe they have meaning.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Class Reunion
I’ve been reading so many deep and thought-provoking entries in other people’s blogs and diaries. And while I have been encouraged to think and remember, I also have been feeling exceedingly shallow. I feel thought-less. I feel shallow. Here’s how shallow I am:
In four months my class is holding it’s 30th high school reunion and I was just sitting here thinking about two things: how am I going to lose 40lbs before April 1 and how will I inform my former “best friends forever” of my criminal status.
Me. I never smoked a cigarette. Never even took one puff. Was only drunk once and got so sick I swore off alcohol completely. I never tried any drugs. I wasn’t even around them, that I knew of. I never got a speeding ticket and the only accident I caused was when I tried to park between two cars in a hurry because I was late for band practice and I hit a friend’s car and when backing from that I scraped my boyfriend’s parent’s car on the other side. I never shoplifted. My worse crime was over-due library books. I was fourth runner up to Miss Teenage Columbus, in the band, in choir and ensembles, in drama, and extremely active in my church youth group.
Me. I graduated from college. Got married. Had two beautiful children. Pastored for 20 years, and was a counselor for seven. Have 3 masters’ degrees, half the work done for a doctorate, and 4000 clinically supervised CPE hours.
I had everything and I handed it back. Stupid barely describes me.
Me. Arrogant. I could take on the world. I could flirt with danger. Rules were for others who couldn’t handle things. I was super mom, super counselor, super pastor. Boundaries were for wimps. I gave and gave and gave. Why hold back anything in reserve? Why even have a reserve? I was totally spread beyond thin and completely spent. And somehow I thought that was a good thing.
Sometimes when I reflect back to that time and it seems like a dream, like I must be thinking about someone else’s life. It felt that way while I was living it too, only it wasn’t a dream it was a nightmare and I couldn’t wake up. And being raised in an alcoholic dysfunctional family was great prep ground for being about to wear the mask of “everything’s just hunky dory” when I would need it at church or work or even home. It was a phony as Mr. Rourke on Fantasy Island: “Smiles everyone, smiles.”
Come to think of it, there was a lot of that “smiling” going on when I was in high school. My parents were alcoholics, but I didn’t “know” that. Mom never went to bed without a couple drinks first, and most nights she fell asleep in her chair. I thought she just woke up hard. I didn’t know they were hangovers. The first DUI I knew my dad got was when I was in college.
I wonder about affairs. Dad traveled for many years for work. He would leave on Monday’s and not come home until the weekend. He was quite flirtatious. The women all loved him. One night after several drinks it even seemed Mom tried to confess something. I was ready to hear it. I’ve never gone back and asked. My brother’s first marriage failed because he had affairs. My sister married a man whose wife had only been dead two months—their relationship had been “building” before the death. He ended up having affairs on Sis and they divorced. And then there’s me.
Not only did we know how to wear smiles to cover our shame; we knew mastered the art of the disconnected or fragmented life. Have you ever watched a little kid eat who can’t stand to have their food touch? Frantic effort is expended to make sure that there is no inner-mingling between meat and potatoes or potatoes and veggies. I was so completely deluded that I thought I could keep all those things separated in my life—denial. It’s poison, slowly killing the soul.
Tuesday morning a new group of workers started out at the plant. I’m supervising them. They’re working in conjunction with T-Net and with Job and Family Services. They have to work so many hours to continue to receive their benefits (food stamps). The agreement between T-Net and the R Company is that the work that these folks do will not be anything that would be regular R Company work. So mostly it’s busy work. Takes a lot of supervision. But I digress…
Anyway, when this group started on Tuesday, Dan introduced me and in that introduction told them I had a pretty interesting story that he hoped I would tell them some day. It’s the felon makes good story. I sort of blitzed by that and hoped that no one would ask. They didn’t on Tuesday, or on Wednesday. Today they reminded me and they asked so I gave them the Reader’s Digest version. Even without giving them a single detail of my crime, they stood there and a couple jaws dropped. I just don’t look the part. I don’t act the part. I’m not the part and yet I am.
You know, thinking back over this, perhaps there’s more than 40lbs I need to lose.
And why do I want to go to this reunion anyway? There are a few people I would dearly love to see. The group I hung out with were the brainiacs. My dear friend is a doctor, a heart surgeon. One of gang is a music professor at a university in the Chicago area. One was the editor of a popular magazine here in Ohio. Will the people I really want to see be there? Is there anybody wondering about me?
My life probably would seem like a tremendous disappointment to them. At times it feels that way to me and yet I know that it has been through brokenness that I have come to understand real love and forgiveness demonstrated through Nelson (over and over). It wasn’t until the arrogance was shattered and I reached out to grab the hand of one far greater than me that I began to see my significance.
These days there’s a smile, but it’s not contrived or covering. It’s born of genuine contentment—thin at spots and hard to discern but there nonetheless. And the masks come out rarely if ever. I’m just learning how to really be real.
Ok, now I’m sitting here and I’m wondering, not so much how I’ll tell my story, but what stories of journeys others have taken. Surely, I’m not the only one with heartache and growth to share.
I wonder how much weight everyone else is thinking about losing before April 1st.
In four months my class is holding it’s 30th high school reunion and I was just sitting here thinking about two things: how am I going to lose 40lbs before April 1 and how will I inform my former “best friends forever” of my criminal status.
Me. I never smoked a cigarette. Never even took one puff. Was only drunk once and got so sick I swore off alcohol completely. I never tried any drugs. I wasn’t even around them, that I knew of. I never got a speeding ticket and the only accident I caused was when I tried to park between two cars in a hurry because I was late for band practice and I hit a friend’s car and when backing from that I scraped my boyfriend’s parent’s car on the other side. I never shoplifted. My worse crime was over-due library books. I was fourth runner up to Miss Teenage Columbus, in the band, in choir and ensembles, in drama, and extremely active in my church youth group.
Me. I graduated from college. Got married. Had two beautiful children. Pastored for 20 years, and was a counselor for seven. Have 3 masters’ degrees, half the work done for a doctorate, and 4000 clinically supervised CPE hours.
I had everything and I handed it back. Stupid barely describes me.
Me. Arrogant. I could take on the world. I could flirt with danger. Rules were for others who couldn’t handle things. I was super mom, super counselor, super pastor. Boundaries were for wimps. I gave and gave and gave. Why hold back anything in reserve? Why even have a reserve? I was totally spread beyond thin and completely spent. And somehow I thought that was a good thing.
Sometimes when I reflect back to that time and it seems like a dream, like I must be thinking about someone else’s life. It felt that way while I was living it too, only it wasn’t a dream it was a nightmare and I couldn’t wake up. And being raised in an alcoholic dysfunctional family was great prep ground for being about to wear the mask of “everything’s just hunky dory” when I would need it at church or work or even home. It was a phony as Mr. Rourke on Fantasy Island: “Smiles everyone, smiles.”
Come to think of it, there was a lot of that “smiling” going on when I was in high school. My parents were alcoholics, but I didn’t “know” that. Mom never went to bed without a couple drinks first, and most nights she fell asleep in her chair. I thought she just woke up hard. I didn’t know they were hangovers. The first DUI I knew my dad got was when I was in college.
I wonder about affairs. Dad traveled for many years for work. He would leave on Monday’s and not come home until the weekend. He was quite flirtatious. The women all loved him. One night after several drinks it even seemed Mom tried to confess something. I was ready to hear it. I’ve never gone back and asked. My brother’s first marriage failed because he had affairs. My sister married a man whose wife had only been dead two months—their relationship had been “building” before the death. He ended up having affairs on Sis and they divorced. And then there’s me.
Not only did we know how to wear smiles to cover our shame; we knew mastered the art of the disconnected or fragmented life. Have you ever watched a little kid eat who can’t stand to have their food touch? Frantic effort is expended to make sure that there is no inner-mingling between meat and potatoes or potatoes and veggies. I was so completely deluded that I thought I could keep all those things separated in my life—denial. It’s poison, slowly killing the soul.
Tuesday morning a new group of workers started out at the plant. I’m supervising them. They’re working in conjunction with T-Net and with Job and Family Services. They have to work so many hours to continue to receive their benefits (food stamps). The agreement between T-Net and the R Company is that the work that these folks do will not be anything that would be regular R Company work. So mostly it’s busy work. Takes a lot of supervision. But I digress…
Anyway, when this group started on Tuesday, Dan introduced me and in that introduction told them I had a pretty interesting story that he hoped I would tell them some day. It’s the felon makes good story. I sort of blitzed by that and hoped that no one would ask. They didn’t on Tuesday, or on Wednesday. Today they reminded me and they asked so I gave them the Reader’s Digest version. Even without giving them a single detail of my crime, they stood there and a couple jaws dropped. I just don’t look the part. I don’t act the part. I’m not the part and yet I am.
You know, thinking back over this, perhaps there’s more than 40lbs I need to lose.
And why do I want to go to this reunion anyway? There are a few people I would dearly love to see. The group I hung out with were the brainiacs. My dear friend is a doctor, a heart surgeon. One of gang is a music professor at a university in the Chicago area. One was the editor of a popular magazine here in Ohio. Will the people I really want to see be there? Is there anybody wondering about me?
My life probably would seem like a tremendous disappointment to them. At times it feels that way to me and yet I know that it has been through brokenness that I have come to understand real love and forgiveness demonstrated through Nelson (over and over). It wasn’t until the arrogance was shattered and I reached out to grab the hand of one far greater than me that I began to see my significance.
These days there’s a smile, but it’s not contrived or covering. It’s born of genuine contentment—thin at spots and hard to discern but there nonetheless. And the masks come out rarely if ever. I’m just learning how to really be real.
Ok, now I’m sitting here and I’m wondering, not so much how I’ll tell my story, but what stories of journeys others have taken. Surely, I’m not the only one with heartache and growth to share.
I wonder how much weight everyone else is thinking about losing before April 1st.
Reader's Digest Version
I have not dropped off the face of the planet.
New Year’s Eve with friends was an absolute blast. Laughed a LOT and ate way too much.
Tuesday started feeling sick. Went to bed before 8pm and slept all night. Felt better, but definitely have a cold. Yay.
Wednesday after work Nelson and I went grocery shopping. He rode around in one of those electric carts. It was just so good to have him out and about.
At Beth’s appointment on Tuesday she learned that the baby now weighs 7lbs 13oz and will probably come in the next two weeks.
Things are possibly shaking up a bit at work…will write more about that later.
Nelson started feeling sick last night. He took some meds and went to bed early.
I slept late this morning and now have to rush. I’ll be back.
New Year’s Eve with friends was an absolute blast. Laughed a LOT and ate way too much.
Tuesday started feeling sick. Went to bed before 8pm and slept all night. Felt better, but definitely have a cold. Yay.
Wednesday after work Nelson and I went grocery shopping. He rode around in one of those electric carts. It was just so good to have him out and about.
At Beth’s appointment on Tuesday she learned that the baby now weighs 7lbs 13oz and will probably come in the next two weeks.
Things are possibly shaking up a bit at work…will write more about that later.
Nelson started feeling sick last night. He took some meds and went to bed early.
I slept late this morning and now have to rush. I’ll be back.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Getting Ready for the New
Nelson is napping.
Beth is getting herself around.
I’m sitting here at the computer, listening to the Top 20 Meltdown of Christian Songs from 2005.
I just browsed through my entries from this year. What a year it’s been. I started out with a trip to Mom’s in January. January should always include a trip to Arizona. It’s just the right thing to do. February included a visit to Annie’s and wonderful time with Penelope. March chronicled the start of my new position at R Company. April held late snows and my birthday. May was Nelson’s birthday and the start of the house construction—finally! June was when Nelson broke his ankle and so July was a time for surgeries and recovery. August held my own falling and wounding of my foot. September we began the pregnancy journey with Beth. October we started attending church again. Sweet Caden was born in November. December I shared some of my story at church and had a reflection piece published on the church website.
It was definitely a years of highs and lows, but one thing seemed to weave throughout the entries and thoughts and that was the grace of God expressed in multiple blessings and right on time mercies. Disappointments and discouragements flared, but were quickly replaced by peace and sometimes even joys.
I don’t know everything that 2006 will hold. I do know that we will have another new baby. Soon hopefully. I know that Nelson will have to figure out how to walk all over again and may have to face changing the way he does “work.” I know that I am going to start attending a meeting geared at helping aspiring writers. Nelson and I are going to hit the intentionally healthy eating plan again (notice what word I am NOT using to describe this) with the hope of losing some weight.
I’m going to write something every day. This means I am going to be reading more and observing more. I’m going to face the coming days with my eyes open to see, explore, and reflect. Having the Traveldrive will help in this commitment.
And I’m going to ride my bike this year. I don’t know how much. I’d love to get to the place where I was riding to work…we’ll have to see about that. I just know that I loved riding bike and I miss it.
Well, that’s all for now. I have some things to do around the house. I already did laundry, made breakfast, and vacuumed downstairs this morning. We’re going to drive down to where we used to live and spend the evening with some very dear friends of ours. We used to spend every New Year’s Eve with them. It will be sweet to be with them again. Besides Karen and I always whoop the boys at cards and I could use a dose of winning right about now.
Be safe and smart tonight and may the new year become for you a year of discoveries, mysteries, and beauty!
Beth is getting herself around.
I’m sitting here at the computer, listening to the Top 20 Meltdown of Christian Songs from 2005.
I just browsed through my entries from this year. What a year it’s been. I started out with a trip to Mom’s in January. January should always include a trip to Arizona. It’s just the right thing to do. February included a visit to Annie’s and wonderful time with Penelope. March chronicled the start of my new position at R Company. April held late snows and my birthday. May was Nelson’s birthday and the start of the house construction—finally! June was when Nelson broke his ankle and so July was a time for surgeries and recovery. August held my own falling and wounding of my foot. September we began the pregnancy journey with Beth. October we started attending church again. Sweet Caden was born in November. December I shared some of my story at church and had a reflection piece published on the church website.
It was definitely a years of highs and lows, but one thing seemed to weave throughout the entries and thoughts and that was the grace of God expressed in multiple blessings and right on time mercies. Disappointments and discouragements flared, but were quickly replaced by peace and sometimes even joys.
I don’t know everything that 2006 will hold. I do know that we will have another new baby. Soon hopefully. I know that Nelson will have to figure out how to walk all over again and may have to face changing the way he does “work.” I know that I am going to start attending a meeting geared at helping aspiring writers. Nelson and I are going to hit the intentionally healthy eating plan again (notice what word I am NOT using to describe this) with the hope of losing some weight.
I’m going to write something every day. This means I am going to be reading more and observing more. I’m going to face the coming days with my eyes open to see, explore, and reflect. Having the Traveldrive will help in this commitment.
And I’m going to ride my bike this year. I don’t know how much. I’d love to get to the place where I was riding to work…we’ll have to see about that. I just know that I loved riding bike and I miss it.
Well, that’s all for now. I have some things to do around the house. I already did laundry, made breakfast, and vacuumed downstairs this morning. We’re going to drive down to where we used to live and spend the evening with some very dear friends of ours. We used to spend every New Year’s Eve with them. It will be sweet to be with them again. Besides Karen and I always whoop the boys at cards and I could use a dose of winning right about now.
Be safe and smart tonight and may the new year become for you a year of discoveries, mysteries, and beauty!
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