Archive for the 'Uncategorized' Category
September 12, 2006 @ 3:56 am | Filed under: Uncategorized
If you weep, I will weep with you.
If you sing for joy the rest of us
Will lift our voices too.
But no matter what you feel inside there’s no need to pretend.
That’s the way it is in this circle of friends.
— Point of Grace
We packed lightly and loaded the van. Still not quite believing that we’d managed to clear six calendars on the same Friday of the same month, we set off for the weekend get-away that we’d been planning for the past six months.
Between us we were leaving behind five children (they are all seventeen or older so the guilt was minimal), six jobs, two pets, one Sunday school class, two school papers that were yet unwritten (and due on Tuesday), and a whole host of laundry and yardwork.
Feeling more like excited children on the last day of school instead of the mature, responsible adults that we are, we drove out of town and straight into a weekend that promised long talks, even longer laughs, and – longest of all – precious moments with friends that seem to come all too seldom in this crazy life we lead.
Over the next three days we women shopped the downtown antique and gift shops like the troupers we are and our men did what they do best: they opened their wallets and gave generously to the cause.
We lunched at local diners, we searched for crackle candles, we ate ice cream at an honest-to-goodness old fashioned parlor, we celebrated a birthday, we enjoyed a true German dinner at an out-of-the-way table in a quaint restaurant in the center of town, we sat in rocking chairs on the front porch of our cottages and watched the rain fall, we grilled steaks and then sat for hours just chatting, we got a jump on Christmas shopping, we luxuriated in unbelievably delicious early morning outdoor breakfasts prepared by our wonderful innkeeper, Molly –
and we laughed, and sometimes we cried, and sometimes we were just quiet, we nodded, we celebrated, we shared, we joked, we told stories, we shared memories of days gone by, we talked of anticipating the wonderful years to come, we talked about our kids, and then we promised to not talk of them anymore, we shared work stories, church stories, family stories, and then – of course – we talked about our kids some more.
It was a weekend to remember.
Molly (our gracious Innkeeper) and the girls.
September 11, 2006 @ 9:55 am | Filed under: Uncategorized
As the soot and dirt and ash rained down,
We became one color.
As we carried each other down the stairs of the burning building,
We became one class.
As we lit candles of waiting and hope
We became one generation.
As the firefighters and police officers fought their way into the inferno
We became one gender.
As we fell to our knees in prayer for strength,
We became one faith.
As we whispered or shouted words of encouragement,
We spoke one language.
As we gave our blood in lines a mile long,
We became one body.
As we mourned together the great loss
We became one family.
As we cried tears of grief and loss
We became one soul.
As we retell with pride of the sacrifice of heros
We become one people.
We are
One color
One class
One generation
One gender
One faith
One language
One body
One family
One soul
One people
We are The Power of One.
We are United.
We are America.
September 2, 2006 @ 9:21 am | Filed under: Uncategorized
Annie Mae Jones is on my mind today.
I know you may not know her, so to describe her to you would be to say: Picture the most gentle, Southern-sounding lady your mind can conjure up. Let her words be like honey and her mannerisms like a warm blanket.
Women like Annie Mae just make you feel good.
About yourself. About the world around you.
And about the fact that there are just some REAL GOOD PEOPLE out there.
Annie Mae moved away a few months ago to live closer to her family in Louisiana after the death of her precious husband. We all miss her, and in her honor, today’s post is a repeat from May 2004.
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We’d just pulled into the hotel parking lot in Little Rock and were scratching around the Suburban, picking up all the trash and Coke and coffee cups we’d accumulated during the drive.
Mike picked up a now-empty Kleenex box that had Rice Krispie treat wrappers and chip bags stuffed inside it.
As the box passed my peripheral vision two things happened very quickly: 1.) my brain recognized that the Kleenex box was filled with trash and was about to be dumped along with all the other junk we’d gathered up. 2.) my heart lunged at the sight of the box and then my hands reached out and snatched it from certain demise.
You see, it wasn’t just another ordinary Kleenex box. It had a history, a purpose, a story to tell. It had been intrusted to me months ago and – while the tissues themselves had been used up during prayer times, then through a winter cold, and now finally on this road trip – the box itself represented a "soul anchor."
Who’d of ever thought a Kleenex box would bear such an important role?
Certainly not me.
It began one hot and humid Monday night last August. Our Daughters of Zion group gathered at the church, each lady bringing along a brand-new Kleenex box with her name, numbers, and address printed on the bottom. We lined the boxes up along the front and then began our regular prayer time. Before we left, though, we stopped and picked up a different box and carried it home with us.
The plan was simple.
Take the box home and then read the name printed on the bottom. With this person in mind, decorate the box of tissues. Then keep the box in sight – on a kitchen counter, on a nightstand, in a foyer by the front door – anywhere we’d be sure to notice it as we went about our daily lives. And then each day for six weeks, we committed ourselves to this individual – through prayer, cards, emails, and phone calls.
As the weeks passed it was amazing to hear the stories of these Kleenex boxes. Hushed whispers interspersed with excited giggles before Monday night prayer as one by one we shared the "adventures" of the boxes. One lady laughed while telling us that she couldn’t keep her son out of them. Prone to allergies, it was always her box he’d grab when he needed a tissue.
But see, the point was that the box was in a place she’d see it.
And it really wasn’t about the tissues at all.
Finally the night arrived when we brought our decorated boxes back and – again – lined them up. As we formed a circle around them, smiles split our faces and tears filled our eyes as we took in the wide array of design "styles" and the love and effort that had obviously gone into this project.
Barbie had decorated the box for Bonnie in a leopard print with a beautiful fringe. Now anyone who knows Bonnie, knows this was right on. Nancy Brigger had starched gorgeous doilies and ribbons, lining the outside of the box in beautiful femininity for the name on her box.
One by one we reached down and scooped up the box we’d decorated and then spoke a few words about what this time had meant to us before handing the Kleenex box back to their original owners.
It was a bonding time like none we’d ever known.
Through laughter and tears, we shared how this simple object – a 99 cent box of Kleenex – had injected a spark of care and a dose of compassion into each of our hearts. In those six weeks, we’d taken on one anothers burdens, shared joys, tears, and needs. One of women’s greatest needs is also her greatest fear: vulnerability.
But we were all safe that night. Six weeks of prayer for one another had guaranteed that. We were a changed group of women and, when we walked away that night, it was with the knowledge that something mighty had transpired, something that would imbed itself into the lining of our souls.
It would become one of our soul anchors.
Annie Mae Jones had my name. She’d had her husband, O.L., to print out prayer scriptures for her and then she pasted them all over the box. "And they departed, and went through the towns, preaching and healing everywhere." "Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed. Save me and I shall be saved."
For weeks this box sat on my nightstand and these verses greeted me each morning as I opened my eyes and soothed me at night as I closed them in sleep. "Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? Then he arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm."
So last week, a good five months after the last Kleenex had finally been used and discarded, I see the box being lifted, about to be thrown out. It was just paper, material to be broken down, recycled, and put to use again.
But this was my box and the hands of the elderly lady who created it for me had left an imprint on my heart. I know I rescued the box this time, but I also know I won’t be able to hold onto it forever.
But I’ll always have the anchor it created inside of me.
O.L. Jones, Sis. Annie Mae’s dear husband, is braving a fight with cancer now. Please remember him in your prayers. And to Annie Mae, I echo back her words of faith to me:
"The Lord is my rock and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength in whom I will trust; my buckler and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower."
Be strong, dear lady, your faith has forever changed my life.
August 28, 2006 @ 10:19 am | Filed under: Uncategorized
Thanks to all of you who are participating in the Saving Grace blog tour! I had such an overwhelmingly great response and will be posting the blog tour schedule in the next few days…Stay tuned!
And an equally LARGE shout-out to all who have either emailed me or commented, asking how the Diet Coke ban was going! I see that I am SO not alone in my DC addiction, and that’s a huge relief!
I’m proud to say that I am on my seventh day without Diet Coke and – to my great shock & awe – I’m not only surviving, but thriving!
The first three days were really rough. Truly.
Those days made a believer out of me. Diet Coke is truly addictive. No joke.
If I had doubted this truth before these first hours and days of withdrawal changed my way of thinking. A pounding headache plagued me for seventy-two hours straight, with nothing bringing me relief from it.
Before I’d even conquered this malady, I began to physically reach for a cup of Diet Coke that wasn’t even there.
You’re laughing, aren’t you?
But the thing is, I’m serious. I’ve become so accustomed to having a DC on my desk as I write during the day that, from time to time, I would automatically reach for the ghost cup.
Imagine my shock when my eager fingers closed around – NOTHING! Nuffin’ but air, baby…
On Friday night I joined friends for a midnight crop at a local scrapbook store. Now – you have to understand – normally these six hours require vast quantities of caffeine. My chosen form was always Diet Coke, of course.
Trying to stay true to my husband’s challenge, I drank bottled water while my friends guzzled my contraband. Just when I thought I might very well crack, lo and behold, it was midnight and everyone was packing up to go home.
And I had made the night without one single, solitary sip of Diet Coke in any form.
The money jar is up $28 dollars thus far. TWENTY-EIGHT BUCKS, folks!
All because I’m not drinking indulging my need for twice-daily Sonic Diet Cokes, in a large cup, with that great you-can-only-get-it-at-Sonic crushed ice…
…oops…I digress.
Now, clearly, I still have a while to go. Twenty-two days, five hours, and 48 minutes, to be exact. (Do you detect a note of eagerness in those stats?)
But I’m feeling a new strength of will and, I have to say, it feels pretty good! To set out to conquer something, even if it’s as trivial and unconsequential as my need for Diet Coke, and then actually manage to cage those desires and put them all in proper perspective…well, it’s amazing.
Does this mean that I’ve had my last Diet Coke? Am I reformed, a changed water-loving, Diet Coke-despising chick?
Uh…’fraid not.
I have a deep-gut feeling that I’ll be parked at Sonic at 11:59 on September 19th, my finger just itching to push the little red button at the stroke of midnight.
But all the while I’m sipping in those first few gulps of Diet Coke, feeling the familiar, tantalizing burn as it travels down my Diet Coke parched throat, I’ll be able to hold my head high.
I will have faced a challenge head-on.
And WON!
August 26, 2006 @ 8:06 am | Filed under: Uncategorized
Blessings have always seemed to be the symbol of the favor of God, of being in His will. And when they’ve rained down upon my head, I have to say that I have felt incredibly loved by God.
Not that I deserved the blessings – never, ever will that be the case – but that, by receiving them, I’d reached some sort of apex.
That’s how I used to think.
Now I know differently.
Blessings don’t bring fulfillment. If you don’t believe this, think back over the blessings in your life. The new house? It’s beautiful, wonderful, exactly what you’d dreamed of.
But at the end of the day, when you lay down to sleep, it’s still a house. With responsibilities, chores, and pressures built right in. And eventually your family will outgrow even the new house, and you’ll want a larger, nicer one.
A promotion? It’s what we all want, what we work so diligently toward. But again, it’s a job, and as with any job, there are multi-faceted issues that make it seem less than a blessing on many days. And one day, even that dream job will appear stale, and you’ll find it no longer satisfies.
We always want more.
The same is true with our spiritual blessings. Just beyond blessings, lies another place. A place we don’t like to talk of much, let alone visit.
Brokenness.
When we reach that point, well…that’s where we find the true will of God. That’s when we know that yes, indeed we are in His perfect will.
It may not always be the most comfortable spot to be.
It may not be the place of importance or stature we thought we wanted.
It may take us outside personal comfort zones and force us into situations that are foreign and unfamiliar.
But it’s in those places we find new levels of relationship with God.
Blessings are a sign He loves us. In spite of all our faults, our failures, our inadequacies, He loves us still.
But brokenness is a sign we’ve tapped into a new realm of relationship.
Think of Abraham. Isaac, the son of his old age, was nothing short of a blessing straight from God. But as Isaac lay on the altar of sacrifice, Abraham was brought to a place of brokenness.
The blessing was no longer enough. It was only after that time of brokenness that Abraham was brought into a new realm of relationship with God.
And what about Job? No one would ever dispute that blessings were abundant in Job’s life. If blessings were a sign of favor, well, Job certainly had favor.
But it was only after losing these blessings, and coming to a place of brokenness, that Job was at last lifted to a new realm. A place he would never have reached had it not been for brokenness.
Brokenness leaves us transparent, needy, and vulnerable.
It also leaves us in a place to be reshaped, remolded, and fashioned into vessels He can truly use.
When the blessing isn’t enough…
August 22, 2006 @ 2:02 pm | Filed under: Uncategorized
Okay, I was tagged to do this and right up front I’m tagging Rochelle, Dawn, Tsiona, and Denise. So start thinking, ladies!
________________________
Accent: I couldn’t deny this one if I tried, could I? So…a great, big, honkin’ Texas accent!
Bible book I love: Psalm. I love all the psalms. In just a few words they bring such comfort.
Chore I don’t care for: Wow…I have to pick just one? Okay…I don’t like to iron. Fortunately, we send Mike’s shirts out to be laundered, starched, and ironed now so that really cuts down on the amount I have to do.
Dog or cat: Neither, thank you very much. I’m just so not a pet person. (I know, some of you think that’s criminal of me! What can I say? I had a traumatic episode as a child – it scarred me for life!)
Essential electronics: My cell phone and my computer, hands down. Gotta have ‘em.
Favorite movie: When Harry Met Sally. I watch it every. single. New. Years. Day. For real.
Gold or silver: Totally depends on the piece. I’m not a jewelry-type gal.
Handbag I carry most: A great big bag that my friend, Rochelle, insists could be classified as carry-on luggage.
Insomnia: When I have a lot weighing heavily on my mind. But I try to remedy that by drinking Celestial Seasonings Sleepytime tea. It works wonders on me.
Job Title: Novelist and freelance writer. Wow. That makes what I do every day seem real!
Kids: one 18 year-old college freshman, one 17 year-old high school senior, and a grown step-daughter.
Living arrangements: 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom house that is now up for sale, if anyone’s interested!
Most memorable moment: It’s a tie between marrying Mike and the days my kids were born.
Naughtiest childhood behavior: I slapped my brother Kevin when we were kids and were alone at the breakfast table and then made him promise not to tell on me. Bad, bad sister…
Phobias: 1. Basically anything that moves and breathes and is not human. I prefer all other creatures to be behind a fence or on a leash, please. 2. Public speaking. Some tell me that I’ll have to do more of this if I want my writing career to be really successful, but it absolutely terrifies me.
Religion: Christian all the way.
Siblings: A younger brother, Kevin.
Time I wake up: Really close to 6 a.m. during the school year and more seven-ish during the summer months.
Unusual talent: I do really bad foreign accents. Mike and the boys beg me NOT to do them because they are so bad, but they laugh! So I keep on doing them!
Vegetable I refuse to eat: I think I like all veggies.
Worst habit: I worry too much.
X-rays: A few. Mainly X-rays of my mouth for dental purposes and cool pictures of my colon. Aren’t you glad you asked?
Yummy stuff I cook: Oh, this is so not my question. Let me think…I make really great brownies, I’ve gotten fairly good with tilapia over the summer, and I make a great Hershey bar chocolate cake.
Zoo animal I like the most: Monkeys! I think they really are what we’d appear like to each other if we weren’t so worried about what other people around us were thinking. I mean, really, how many times have you wanted to scratch yourself but was afraid you’d come off as uncool or unladylike? I’m just sayin’…
August 21, 2006 @ 3:11 pm | Filed under: Uncategorized
…but not broken.
Every year, for as long as I can remember, I’ve prayed with the boys each morning before they’d leave for school. Not a long prayer, and never elaborate.
I’d just ask God to watch over our family, guide the boys through their day, help them with their schoolwork, and bless their relationships with their friends and with their teachers.
All summer long I’ve wondered what this morning would be like. The first day of school and Nate is not here to join our prayer circle in the living room.
I was often tempted to ask him if he wanted to "phone in" and join us via Cingular. But I’ve been trying so hard to give him some space and let him discover his own identity and independence.
I know it’s important for him to set his own routine in regards to his walk with God and it’s needful for him to now establish his own boundaries.
That’s a tough thing for a Mom to accept, believe me!
I shouldn’t have fretted though.
Nate called at 6:45 this morning and wanted to know what we were doing. I filled him in on the little details of our morning and we chatted a bit.
"We’re about to pray. Do you want to stay on the line while we do?"
There wasn’t even the slightest hesitation. Instead there was honest-to-goodness relief resonating across the line. For real.
"Uh, yeah. That sounds like a good idea. I’ll stay on the line."
And so the four of us prayed. Almost like normal.
Except now, one of us lives three hours away.
But that’s the wonder of families, isn’t it? Distance is only as far as the hearts stray.
The way I figure it, if I can keep this family praying together – even if those times become a bit more sporadic as time goes on – then I feel certain this circle will remain unbroken.
This Mom is counting on it.
August 20, 2006 @ 11:37 pm | Filed under: Uncategorized
"When people keep telling you that you can’t do a thing, you kind of like to try it." —Margaret Chase Smith
_____________________________
Okay, the challenge has been uttered, the gauntlet has been thrown down…
Mike doesn’t think I can go thirty days without Diet Coke.
Quite frankly, I’m not so sure I could under ordinary circumstances but – by George – I’ll certainly give it my all from now until…<gulp> September 19th.
Oh my, that’s quite a long time, isn’t it?
Now that I’m looking at the calendar I’m realizing that, in the course of these thirty days, I’ll be going through one scrapbooking midnight crop (how do you do that without some DC?), Labor Day weekend (lots of food, friends, and DC…normally), and a weekend retreat with friends (oh, just kill me now).
Still, there’s nothing like a good challenge to spark the motivation needed to begin working toward a goal. My goal is two-fold.
I have to say that I was inspired by my friend, Katy. Katy and her husband, Doug, gave up Starbucks (coined Four-bucks by Katy) over sixty days ago.
Their rationalization is that over these past two months they have saved $480 that is normally liquidly consumed. It got me to thinking…
If I made a conscious effort to give up my daily trips to Sonic for a large, ice-filled (don’t-forget-the-straw-please) Diet Cokes and – instead – dropped that same amount of money into our money jug…
Mike and I did the math on the way to church this morning. Two trips a day, one DC per trip, at $2.00 a pop (since I tip Meredith generously – and yes, I AM on a first-name basis with my Sonic people). That adds up to $20-$28 a week, meaning that I could "save" as much as $120 a month.
Just by giving up Diet Coke runs.
"Think you can do it?" Mike’s voice sounded suspiciously wicked.
"Do what?" I cut my eyes at him. "Give up Diet Coke?"
"For thirty days. Give up Diet Coke for thirty days and drop all that money into the jar." He grins at me. "I bet you can’t do it."
I was already feeling a twitch coming on, just thinking about taking on this challenge. But – he doesn’t think I can do it?
He. doesn’t. think. I. can. do. it.
Baby, you are SO on.
Beginning tomorrow morning I’ll be Diet Coke-free and I’ll begin "adding to the jar daily such as should be saved."
As for right now…I’m enjoying one last Diet Coke from America’s favorite drive-in.
And if you happen to notice an uncontrollable twitch or two from me in the coming weeks, don’t let it worry you too much.
Just know that I’m doing well in the challenge.
August 18, 2006 @ 8:26 pm | Filed under: Uncategorized
"Talent without discipline is like an octopus on roller skates. There’s plenty of movement, but you never know if it’s going to be forward, backwards, or sideways."
— H. Jackson Brown, Jr. Author
_______________________________
You know, today is one of those days when I wish you could buy some self-discipline in bulk at Sam’s or Costco’s, or maybe at least find it on clearance on one of those great end caps at Target.
Today is my last official day of unofficial vacation. On Monday Jordan returns to school for his Senior year, Mike resumes his travel, and I begin work on a new novel.
A part of me is longing for the familiar comfort of routine and all of its predictability. Another part of me is already internally whining about the early rising, the long hours at the computer, and the need for me to switch hats at around five. At which time I’ll prepare dinner, throw in a load of laundry, and basically make sure this family is clothed, fed, and in their right minds.
Well, at least fed and clothed…
The thing is, as much as I – a Type A personality – crave organization and balance, I also tend to balk at the self-discipline that is required to glue my rear to the chair and…W-R-I-T-E.
It’s ironic, really. I’m persuing my dream. Living it, breathing it, embracing it. And yet, at the end of the day, it still manages to convey itself as W-O-R-K.
Nothing of quality that’s worth having comes easy. Or free.
So over the course of the weekend I’ll be doing some internal inventory. Taking stock of what’s on the shelves of my heart, mind and soul. Coming to terms with what’s still good, and what can stand to be tossed.
Hopefully, since I’m a hoarder by nature, I’ll be sensitive to God’s voice and heed his direction to clean out the clutter. It’s time to buckle down and get some work done.
Don’t you think it’d be easier if you could take care of all this at Target…?
August 17, 2006 @ 3:53 pm | Filed under: Uncategorized
1. Your eldest might be leaving the house but, consequently, so is a lot of his "stuff." 
2. You get to see how your kids really feel about each other, in the face of separation.
3. You drive out of the driveway with three in the car, knowing it’ll just be you & Pops pulling back in later that night.
4. You get to take a blank dorm room and help transform it into a pseudo-suitable new home. And, while I know it will never be quite the same as home, I have to say that I’m very happy with his new digs. I think he’ll be quite content here.
5. After a "quick" run to Wal-Mart (for last minute essentials & such) and $150 dollars later, Pops finds himself putting together a shelf…
6. …hanging posters and pictures…
7. …and setting up the computer. (Yep, that’s Phil Collins on Nate’s screen saver.)
8. You get a glimpse of what your son’s new study environment (I’m feeling very optimistic) will be like…
9. …where he’ll sleep…(the Monty Python poster has hung in his room at home for years and was one of the few treasured things that made the move.)
10. You get to meet new people, like his roommate, Michael. Quiet and thoughtful like Nate, we’re hopeful that our earlier fears of an Oscar and Felix pairing were premature. And you meet Michael’s parents and learn that you’re part of a much bigger club of Moms who are proudly – yet hesitantly -pushing encouraging your young to leave the nest.
11. You and Pops take him out for "The Last Supper" – for his favorite food (Mexican – wonder where he gets that?) and you try to make the meal last…for a long time. (‘Cause you know what happens after dinner.)
12. You hug him tight, hold him close, and tell him you love him and that you’re amazingly proud of him.
13. And then <big gulp> you watch him walk away, right smack into his new adventure.
