A Sister's Birthday

Today is my sister Lora's birthday. She's celebrating her own special day by getting her broken wrist set. She fell last week but because of the swelling, they were unable to set it until today. What a fabulous way to celebrate a birthday!

As I think back over the years, the memory that pops out is her 30th birthday. Steve and I were living in Phoenix and we flew her down to spend the week with us as her present. Steve was in school so his time was limited but we did end up going from Mexico to Old Tucson to the Grand Canyon and back. We had so much fun!

By the time that birthday came around Lora was already on the way to losing her mind. Erica had been born the year before and she went nuts. For her to spend $150 on a dress for the peanut was not unusual. As a matter of fact between mom and Lora (and me to a much lesser degree), Erica received so many packages from UPS that she recognized the brown truck coming up the road and even though she lived on a college campus, she just knew it was for her. She was usually right too. Lora's unending devotion to Erica and Peter through the years is monumental.

So, happy birthday Lora! I hope your wrist-setting goes well. Strange way to decide to spend your birthday but I guess whatever floats your boat!

Edward and Lora at 2 1/2 and 1 1/2 respectively.

Edward and Lora at 18 and 17.

Pedals-R-Me

Today I rode my bike to work and had the most exhilarating experience. I decided about a month ago when I went part-time that one way I could reduce gas usage would be to pedal myself to work. Keep in mind I'm making half the money so cutting corners is becoming crucial to survival. I clocked the distance when I drove one day and came in at 1.7 miles. Not that far. Okay, I can do this!

Then last week Steve and I made a test run down here on our bikes to see how long it would take. We clocked in at 12 minutes. The ride down to the office was neither difficult or long. I thought perhaps we went faster than I normally would because 1) Steve was leading and 2) it was cold. I should know by now he leads at a slower pace than he would go alone because he knows my limitations. Nevertheless, I still doubt occasionally.

So, today I ventured away from the house with Steve calling after me to write when I get work. I pedaled my heart out because while I had allowed myself extra time -- a whole 3 minutes -- I thought for sure I was going slower than our test run. Imagine my delight when I arrived at the door in just 10 minutes! Muscles burning of course but a shorter time. And it's all about making good time, right?

Going home is the more arduous adventure. There is a gradual uphill climb from the office to King and then a bigger hill, thankfully not that long, to the turn off on 30th. From there it's the flatlands. Last time I was so thrilled to have made it to the top of the hills without a stop I raised my hands declaring, "woo hoo! I MADE IT!!!!" It was quite a moment. For me, this is big stuff.

But the exhilarating experience I referred to earlier is that I felt free. Sounds bizarre, but true. While the cars waited at that one light while it seemingly took forever to turn green, I zipped across the street when no cars were in sight. I realize I could be ticketed for this but it's highly unlikely. The wind was in my face, blowing my hair back, and I was free. It's good to be free, don't you think?

Identity Crisis

A couple of days ago I asked for input on how you identify yourself. The reason is because I had a theory and I think I've now proven it.

Almost everyone who responded or who I've spoken with defined themselves in the following manner: based on vocation, marital status, parental status, education, etc. A particularly verbose friend sent a lengthy email explaining that how she answers that is based on a variety of factors -- who is asking and why, the relationship with the person asking, the environment (public v private), and who is around at the time. I found that response particularly intriguing.

So my theory is that we identify ourselves based on what we do, where we work, whether or not we're married, and so on. The problem with this is what happens to us when one of those things changes. What if you lose your job? What if you end up widowed or divorced? What happens when your children leave home, rebel, or don't turn out as expected? The end result is an identity crisis. I speak of this with extensive experience.

When my last job, my dream career ended, I began to lose sight of who I was. My heart and brain were tied up in that job. I loved it. It defined me. Two months later my dad died and I was no longer Lyle's daughter. Obviously I still am his daughter but it changes dramatically at death. I can't explain it, one must experience it. Family relationships define me too. I have found myself in an identity crisis that never seems to fade. Or if it is fading, it's so slow I can scarcely recognize it.

While these losses are paramount, the bigger reason I have lost sight of my identity is because I misplaced it. As a believer I had no business wrapping who I was in my job or any individual. My identity is in Christ, or should be. If properly placed, nothing can take away our identity. Circumstances can change, people can come in and out of our lives, yet through it all we can remain firm in who we are.

I suppose the first step is understanding where I went wrong, listening to what God has been trying to tell me. The second step is the difficult one - redefining myself in Christ, dying to myself every day. This will be an interesting season.

Would you lick the subway wall for.....?

As I noted in my vacation posts, we used the subway almost exclusively as our mode of transportation while in NYC. This mode was second only to our feet. Anyway, as we were waiting for a train one day, Steve began his routine of asking Erica "would you do this for XX dollars?" type of questions. One time he offered her $500 if she'd eat a fairly large mushroom -- not a portebella but a big regular one. She declined...and I breathed a sigh of relief. Then again, she was 8. Now she'd do it in a heartbeat so he has to increase the stakes.

Back to NYC. He asked if she'd lick the subway wall for $500. She said no. He went up to $1,000. She said no. He then went up to $5,000 and I held my breath for fear she'd say yes. She declined. I exhaled. What in the world did he think he was doing? Did he have a money tree somewhere I knew nothing about? So, rather than continue to actually offer money we'd be obligated to pay if she said yes, he finally asked how much it would take for her to do it. I don't remember the exact amount but I recall thinking I wouldn't do it for that. Then again, I'd waver at $500,000 because it's just so nasty.

Shortly after we got back I told this story to cute Molly who works upstairs. She has a reputation for accepting bribes to do weird, crazy stuff for money (not immoral mind you, just weird like this). When I told her the offer, her eyes lit up and she didn't even flinch as she exclaimed "YES! I'd do it for $5,000 - that's a LOT of money!"

Well, she returned yesterday from visiting her brother in NYC and she took this picture just for little 'ol me. As I close, I must do so with the disclaimer that she didn't really lick the wall, probably because I hadn't actually offered her the money. She emailed me saying, "I would have been paying myself to do it and that just doesn’t seem worthwhile." She went on to say, "I chose a particularly gross part of that wall, so it would have had to be quite a bit – at least $15."

You should have done it Molly. I would've paid $15. I'm good for it. But I'd want proof.

Happy Tax Freedom Day

Did you know today is Tax Freedom Day? Neither did I until I heard it on the radio this morning. So, to you I say "Happy Tax Freedom Day!"

Is there anyone, like me, who had no idea what this means? Well, apparently the experts (whoever they are) have calculated that, on average, today marks the day when the money you make for the rest of the year is 100% yours. What they are saying is that if all the money you make were to go to taxes first, today would be the first day marking you 100% paid. That's right, almost 25% of gross income goes to some sort of tax so basically you work 4 months for the government. The rest is yours. Yippee.

Most of us do this without much thought but when it comes to giving God a mere 10%, people gripe and complain saying how all the church wants is money. Anyone else see the irony? No, it's not the church. It's God. And he doesn't need our money, or anything else from us either. It's about obedience, not need.

I will now have to resist the urge to calculate this for myself. It doesn't matter, I must "give unto Caesar what belongs to Caesar" (Matthew 22:21) but it does make me wonder....

Who are You?

I've becoming increasingly interested in how people answer this question. Who are you? Who am I ? And why do we answer the way we do?

I've been asking people here and there and so far my theory is holding out. But, I don't want to share that theory because I want to gather more results and not taint the waters.

So, if you'd be so kind as to help me gather data, please let me know how you would answer that question. If you're bold enough, leaving it in the comments is great. If not, please send me an email and let me know your answer. Once I've proven my theory, I promise to share why I've asked!

Repeat to yourself: This is fun. This is scientific gathering data at its best. If I just smile and nod, she won't hurt me.

Celebration

In the midst of every day church life, sometimes it is hard to remember the reason we do this thing we call "church". We get stuck in the rut of our preferences and make it all about ourselves. But it is not. I wonder if anyone else hears second hand, overhears, or is told directly any of the following:

"I don't like the paint."

"I don't like the music."

"If we'd sing hymns, we'd attract more people."

"The KJV is the only reliable translation. If we don't use that, we're wrong."

There are so many more and going on just may make my blood boil. Preferences, each and every one of them. Tools of Satan. If he can distract us over any of these (and countless others to be sure), he wins and keeps us self-involved enough that we forget our purpose.

"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations," Jesus said, "baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. And teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you and surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." (Matthew 28:19-20 NIV).

Tonight we celebrated a new life in Christ and the baptism as first steps of obedience. She was radiant. She couldn't stop smiling. She was full of joy. She encouraged me by her presence and reminded me that anything less than bringing others to Christ is not the purpose of the church. It is auxiliary.

Putting up with the rest is all worth it for this woman who was dead in sins and is now alive in Christ. If that is not worthy of a celebration, nothing is.

With deep gratitude to God tonight.

Steadfast Mother

After a conversation with my mom last night, I am particularly grateful she is mine (even though I share her with 6 others...4 siblings, 1 niece, and 1 nephew). She is still mine alone and she is still theirs alone. It is a masterful art she has perfected. I love the quote below.

"A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials, heavy and sudden, fall upon us when adversity takes the place of prosperity when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine, desert us when troubles thicken around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts." ~ Washington Irving

Not Made for Goodbye

I had a phone conversation with a very wise woman this morning. Every time I speak with her I glean something, I'm encouraged, or I'm inspired. Of course we laugh a lot too...almost goes without saying! I started to get to know her at a retreat almost 4 years ago. We were in the mountains and since she's motherly she told all of us young'uns (she's from Louisiana) to go everywhere in groups of two or three because "here's how a bear counts...one, two, too many". Apparently alone we'd be breakfast but in 2's or 3's we'd be too much!

Anyway, she said "You know, I heard a preacher say a long time ago that we're not made for death." It fit in perfectly with something I heard another speaker say a few weeks ago "we're not made for goodbyes." No matter which way you say it, the fact is it's true. We're made for eternity. This comes from Ecclesiastes 3:11:

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end."

This is why losing a loved one is so hard. It's contradictory to the eternity set in our hearts. But it's also why there is comfort -- this life is not the end, the graveside goodbye is not all there is for those in Christ. Praise God!

Comforts Abound

It was 2 years ago today that I experienced the best day and worst day of my life. Strange that it could be the same day, yet it was. While I won't go into great detail and many of you know the story anyway, it was Thursday, April 13, 2006 when Steve and his Marines landed at 12:30 am amidst a huge crowd at the Waterloo Airport. As you might expect, I was in the crowd. A short 8 hours later I received the call that my dad had died. Sudden, unexpected, and my life has never been the same. That's all I'm going to say about that, lest the tears overtake me.

Even though I have no intention of memorializing my dad's date of death, it obviously crosses my mind -- not just today but on so many others as well. So while I knew this was the weekend, I can honestly say I wasn't as emotional as I was even on his birthday a few weeks ago. I've had bouts of tears but they are different. I don't think I can explain it but it must have something to do with the events below.

The most interesting things have transpired the last couple of days. I received 5 cards from different people. Just notes of encouragement and to say I'm being prayed for this weekend. It never dawned on me these friends would remember. I certainly didn't expect them to. One of them is so new in my life and didn't even live here when dad died. Yet they not only remembered, they took the time to send a card. Yesterday my cousin and honorary cousin stopped by with flowers. And today when I got to the sound booth there had been a pink flower and card left for me. Pink signifying I'm not alone and I am loved. And tonight I had a most amazing email from yet another friend.

At a time when I've felt very isolated and alone, God used each and every one of these women to minister to me so powerfully. Even if I wanted to deny that were true and wallow in my sadness, I simply couldn't do it today. There had to be a moment in the last week when the Holy Spirit prompted them to reach out to me, they were obedient, and I'm moved beyond belief. As Martina McBride sings, "I have been blessed and I feel like I've found my way. I thank God for all I've been given, at the end of every day."

One of my biggest blessings was you, dad. My hero, my childhood knight in shining armor, the man who taught me how to relate to God as my father, my Abba. You showed me by example what a husband should be and how to interact with mine. I'll never get over you. I'm still crazy about you. I'll love you always. I wish I could hear you say "That's my girl" or "Hey Jury Jury" just one more time. But I'll settle for the recording in my memory. I can't wait to see your face in glory. Until then, I must be about our Father's business.

Song of a Soldier

A friend sent this to me this morning and I was moved to tears. The Song "If I Die Before You Wake" was written by 3 soldiers and performed by one of them.

Please take a moment to watch -- it is so worth it.

It brings to mind a few moments of fear I found myself in about a month after Steve arrived in Iraq. I hadn't heard from him in a while and one morning around 9 I received a brief email from him saying an IED had gone off close to them so they pulled down all communications. That ensured no false information was disseminated. Even though I knew that would happen, I still stared in disbelief at my computer screen. Before I could even read the next line the tears fell so hard I could no longer see the words. All of a sudden it was real -- he could die, perhaps even while I was sound asleep.

In those brief moments I prayed more earnestly than ever that God would bring him home safely. I was suddenly overcome with calmness and almost audibly heard God say "even if I choose to bring him home to me, he's still fine." At that moment, it was over for me. No more fear for his safety. Oh, I still missed him bunches and shed tears out of loneliness, but none out of fear. I later learned a man I adore had been praying for me at that exact same time.

As a final note, the next line of his email was something like "you don't need to worry about me. I was fine the entire time and in no real danger." Ah, a soldier's perspective is always different than a non-soldier.

Startling Statistics

In our ongoing sermon series on the book of Mark, our pastor arrived at Mark 5:1 about the man who lived among the tombs inhabited by so many demons they called themselves "Legion". He prefaced the sermon with some statistics that really surprised me:

1) Only 1 in 10 Americans believe all of the following: Jesus lived a sinless life; there is a Holy Spirit; and there is an evil Spirit called Satan.

2) Only 38% of those calling themselves Christians believe in Satan.

Whoa! That second one is really startling, almost frightening to me. I think I can safely assume from such a percentage that over 1/3 of those calling themselves Christians are likely living in defeat because they fail to believe that Satan is alive and well.

Now, granted, most of the troubles in our lives we bring on all by ourselves. Further, Satan probably doesn't concern himself much with this 38% because they aren't a threat to him as they don't acknowledge his very real presence in the world.

But in the end, I'm saddened most because this 38% of Christians haven't read enough of scripture to realize he exists and is active in his purpose. Or worse, they read it but don't believe it's true.

Complementary Entries

This story brightened my day on Saturday and I have a hunch it will brighten yours as well. Shiela and Peter were at the gym last week and there were posters or something indicating a promotion with one of the local sports stores. It said that each gym member would receive a complementary entry.

The following conversation ensued:

P: Mom, I'm going to tell that guy he has nice hair and that woman she has a nice outfit (etc etc).

S: Okay, but why?

P: So I can get more complimentary entries!

Through her laughter Shiela got the opportunity to explain the difference between compliment and complementary! I guess if you think about it, to a 10 year old, Peter's line of thinking is right on. And for the rest of us, it makes a great story!

Beautiful Brandi

This might seem bizarre but I promise you, we were attending a theme party! While not planned, my beautiful friend Brandi and I matched fairly well.

When I grow up, I hope I'm like Brandi. She is 100% beautiful inside and out. Ironically she's much younger than me which says a lot about her and not so much about me. Man, I really do have great friends.

Moral Dilemma

Steve and I rented a movie last week where the story line was fabulous. The language--not so great. I wonder why they think they need to fill a movie with so many curse words? It certainly didn't add anything to the plot line nor did it make the characters more intense. The story line did that all on its own.

But, in any case we found ourselves discussing the moral dilemma presented. So much so we used it as our ice breaker / discussion question at small group. Here it is for you to ponder: you're a cop and a child is kidnapped out of a horrible home. There is no father in the picture, the mother is a druggie and has questionable friends. The child is frequently left alone. You discover the kidnapper loves children, is providing a great home, and the child would have a far better life if left where they are. You know that if they return home, things will be as they always were and the child will be neglected, likely abused, and scarred for life.

What do you do? Report this person? Or let the child stay where they are? Our social system runs on the premise that if a child can be with one of their biological parents, they are better off in the long run. I disagree with that philosophy. My dad was not my biological father. My life would have been far less had that man been in the picture. Everything in me wants the child to have a great life, grow up healthy and happy, unlikely to repeat the generational behavior of her biological mother. But then there's the law. Kidnapping is wrong. We have a moral and spiritual obligation to do what is right and abide by the law. This particular law does not go against scripture so there's no reason not to obey it. But for the child.

I don't anticipate ever being in this position but quite a quandary it is...indeed.

Am I Weird? Are You Weird?

I didn't intend to post twice this week about being weird but yesterday 2 different people told me I was so today I ask myself, am I really weird? I generally think of myself as different than most and happily so. But weird? HHHMMMM.....here's the conversations that will tickle you to death:

D: I forgot you were going to part time today. That's exciting!

J: I know! As I was getting ready this morning I was really nervous.

D: You're weird.

J: I was kind of giddy about the whole thing then it seemed like I was starting a new job and I got butterflies.

D: That's weird. You're weird.

J: Okay, it could be just me but I'm sensing a vibe that you think I'm weird.

D: Oh, it's no vibe -- it's a power surge!

And an hour later:

J: (calling Erica as I left the office) Woo hoo! I'm free!!! (picture me with my arm in the air as I drove). Tell grandma but be sure to hold your hands up when you do.

E: You're so weird. (In the background I heard my mom saying something but can't quite make out what it is).

E: I'm surrounded by weirdos. I'm in a very weird family.

J: The scary thing is this blood is in your veins too.

E: I know. It's frightening.

J: Even now your blood cells are saying (do this part in a high pitched small voice) "weirdo..weirdo...weirdo..."

So, maybe I am weird rather than different. You?

No Foolin'!

Such a corny title I know but what else can I do on April 1? Seriously though, I do have an announcement and I'm not foolin' about it either. Today marks my first day of part-time work. I am so excited I can scarcely sit in my chair! The truth is I'd rather not work outside the home at all but that is just not our reality right now. For 2 of the years we lived in NC I didn't have a paying job and it was fantastic. I volunteered at the squadron, I was president of the wives' club and my friends and I would go to the beach, have lunch parties, go shopping. Yes, I was the quintessential officer's wife. Fully trained to deal with crisis, financial counseling, grief counseling, and all matters of military life. We were a lot like a church family. I loved every minute of it too.

For several months we've been waiting for God to open all the necessary doors to make this a reality. I have felt like I'm drowning, barely able to keep my head above water most days. When you spend all day working and 80% of your nights and weekends on ministry, it doesn't leave a lot of time for spouses, family, laundry, downtime, house upkeep, etc. I learned a lot about what is truly important and ridiculous expectations. For instance, until last week when my mom came to help me really clean, my house hasn't been nearly as clean as I think it should be and not meeting that too-high standard has made me feel like a loser. To those who come into our home every week the fact that I hadn't scrubbed my floors or baseboards twice that week was not even noticeable. I could give 27 other examples but you get the idea.

Just a short 12 days ago the big piece fell into place and we have been joyously praising God for working it all out. I have a hunch one last piece will be forthcoming but until then, we have much for which to be thankful. I have been ever vigilant in making sure to give God the glory because it is his and I don't want to be guilty of even trying to share his glory, let alone stealing it all together. Today I am moved by the words of Isaiah as they not only talk about God and his glory but about his purpose in this most recent season of my life:

"See, I have refined you, though not as silver; I have tested you in the furnace of affliction. For my own sake, for my own sake, I do this. How can I let myself be defamed? I will not yield my glory to another." ~ Isaiah 48:10-11