That's a Funny Name

As my last post indicated, our spring fling theme this year was western. My friend is a Sioux Indian (and yes, it's okay to call her an Indian, she told me so herself). She came dressed as a Native American. She was the only one.

As I spoke to her I noticed she had 2 name tags on--her regular one and then one that had her Indian name translated into English. She told me what it was in Sioux and then told me her husband's Indian name too but his is Crow.

Then she shared that her 3-year-old daughter had been given one during a naming ceremony. Apparently it's a big deal in Indian culture when they get their name. (As a side note, this is the little girl I posted about here.) I asked what it was and she said it first in Crow and then in English. Here was the hilarious conversation:

O: It means "pickled beets."

For a minute I just stared at her because I thought it was really bizarre but how do you tell someone that? It's like saying "hey, you have an ugly baby." You just don't do that. Finally I mustered this:

J: That's interesting. Does she like pickled beets?

I mean, really, why else would you give a kid that name? Now it was her turn to stare at me like I was a little off center. She slowly and cautiously said:

O: Um, yes.

J: Oh, now it makes sense.

O: What makes sense?

J: Why they named her pickled beets. It's because she likes them.

She erupted in laughter.

O: No, not pickled beets, SPECKLED BEADS.

I just bent over in laughter. We were both still laughing about it this morning. She was given this name after her great grandmother. Either she needs to enunciate better or I need to hear better. Maybe both.

Western Fun

Last night was our annual Ladies Spring Fling and our theme this year was Women of the Wild West. It was a really fun one too. We've pretty much maxed the event and sold every single ticket we had.

Here's a picture we used in promoting the event. Are we a bunch of mean looking hombres or what?

A Weekend of Learning

I learned a lot about myself this weekend. Some things thrilled me, others not so much:

First, I got home from work Friday afternoon and Steve was working in the garage. No dogs greeted me at the door so I opened the back door to call them in. Sam was halfway under the fence. Within seconds I realized Jake was gone. I fell apart. I bawled. Yes, I know they are dogs but if you don't understand the emotion, I'll never be able to explain it to you. In an effort to get to the dog on the other side of the fence, Sam dug a hole and Jake, being smaller, crawled under first. Another 10 minutes and Sam would've been gone too. Steve got the car keys and off he went to find him. I really wanted him to find him, whether alive or dead, but the not knowing would kill me. He returned 10 minutes later, Jake in tow. He was fine. So what did I learn? I did not blame Steve nor did I take it out on him. This is great growth for me. But I'm not as far as I thought I was or want to be.

Secondly, I worked in the sound booth at the Youth Evangelism Conference (YEC) and I think I'm old or quickly getting there. I sat in the balcony thinking "man, this is SO loud!" It was good, but loud! Then a couple of people came up and said "holy cow, it's way louder up here than down there." Whew. Made me feel a little better! I was unbelievably moved by the sheer excitement of these teens for Christ. When the doors opened, they raced for the front row. Not the back, the front. Then when the worship band played (Rush of Fools, they were awesome) they surrounded the stage, jumped up and down, raised their hands, and it was so incredibly refreshing. They just worshipped from the heart. So what did I learn? I'm older than I like to admit but not as old as I think. But more importantly that authentic excitement for Christ is contagious, regardless of age. I can be way better at this.

Third, despite the rough "week of meanness", yesterday was such an amazing worship service. I have never felt such an outpouring of the Holy Spirit at Calvary as I did then. It's so much easier to tell face to face and while I may try to describe it in a blog, now is not the time because this one is already so long and to do justice, I don't want to shorten the description. Compulsory praise is all I can thing of to describe it. Even now I recall the verse where Jesus said if we don't praise God, even the rocks will cry out. It's as if they have to and I did as well yesterday. I so get it. So what did I learn? Not so much a new lesson but a reminder that God is huge and mighty and I am so small. Why me? Why us?

Fourth, at Bible study last night I was so on fire (likely from the service earlier). I was able to speak with such power and passion. God gave me an opportunity, told me what to say, and it just fell on out. So what did I learn? I try to be sensitive to what God is saying to me and last night was evidence that he is really getting through.

I Hope I Never Get Over Him

Today my thoughts keep coming back to my dad. By all counts it's been a busy day but today my dear, sweet dad would have been 66 years old. Hard to believe.

Of course he quit thinking about birthdays the moment his eyes closed on earth and opened before the face of his Savior. But for those of us left behind (temporarily) the day never passes without sweet remembrance and a few tears of the great man we lost almost 3 years ago.

I wonder what I would have given him this year. He loved anything we ever gave him but he was increasingly hard to buy for because he was at that stage of life where if he wanted something he generally bought it himself. And if he didn't, it was because he thought it was too expensive which meant I couldn't afford it either. But it was still fun. I probably would've purchased a gift card somewhere because he loved those. My mom didn't like it when he got one because it meant he'd spend double that amount while redeeming it!

Instead of thinking about him and posting this minute I'd be getting ready to go celebrate his birthday. I also wonder today if I'll ever get over him. Part of me hopes not. I never want to forget his voice and laugh. I never want to forget his smile and dry sense of humor. And I never want to forget how his eyes lit up when he was about to play a practical joke on somebody or about to reveal a big surprise. Or how they'd well with tears when one of his kids or grandkids was hurting and just needed a hug.

But the other part of me doesn't want to miss him so badly forever either. One day.....one day....

I love my dad.

A Good Start

This morning Steve and I were supposed to go to breakfast but for some odd reason I awoke 15 minutes before the alarm went off. Seriously, that is not like me at all--I'm one of those "snoozers" who will hit the button as long as I can. Sometimes I hit it so long it stops going off. See, my clock has this thing where if you've hit snooze for an hour after it initially went off, it no longer continues. I call this the "if you're too stinkin' lazy to get up when the buzzer goes off then you deserve to be late" technology. It's happened to me twice.

So, as I lay in bed I remembered I have lunch today with a friend and there's no way I can eat breakfast out at 8 and lunch out at noon. Too much food in too short a time frame. So I shut off the alarm, got the dogs and let Steve sleep. I wanted to be alone with God this morning. It's not that Steve bugs me when I'm studying or having my quiet time but I just wanted to be solo.

It was an amazing time of just pouring out my heart and really having a conversation sharing my deepest sadness and hurts. I suddenly realized that part of the reason I've spent the week in turmoil is because I didn't immediately fall on my face and cry out. Oh, I cried alright, just not in the right direction.

I begin my day, no longer a despairing heaviness weighing on me.

What a great start this morning. Plus, as bonuses, it was almost light when I let the dogs out and I didn't freeze just opening the door for them. Yeah, spring is here! AND as if all that weren't enough, I will be dining at the Hot for lunch. Man, it's stacking up to be a fabulous Friday!

Overcoming Meanness Follow Up

Last night as I began to drift off to sleep the tears streamed down my cheeks. Steve reached over, grabbed my hand, and said, "It's alright, dear, I can handle it." In a barely audible whisper I replied, "I know, but I can't." And for a few moments before my exhaustion turned to sleep, I sobbed into my pillow.

This morning as I worked through my Bible study lesson I played that over and over in my head. God prepared Steve for years for such a time as this (keep in mind my current study is on Esther). People were really mean, rude, and offensive to him when he was a deputy. Most of them were on the other side of the law so it was likely a natural reaction but certainly not all of them. Many things he's shielded me from because there is no point in me knowing and the things I do know are bad enough. Likewise, as a Marine he encountered his share of bad PR and I'll never forget the words said to me when he was in Iraq. They were horrible...untrue and simply horrible. Not even worth repeating.

He's used to how mean people can be and he is more than capable of standing up under it. Yet that doesn't mean he's not affected. Over lunch yesterday he said "I can totally see why there is such a high mortality rate among pastors." Mortality not meaning death in the physical sense but as in death to their church / leaving their church.

Oh, he'll persevere. He's got a great leader in our senior pastor. But more than that, he's got THE great avenger, defender, and deliverer. In due time God will drop them to their knees. In the meantime (no pun intended) God is strengthening us and building character.

One of my final thoughts as I drifted off to sleep was, "I don't deserve this man next to me. They certainly don't deserve him either." But I do have him and so do they. And then it hit me...the very essence of grace.

Overcoming Meanness

This week I'm reeling from the effects of some mean church people we've encountered over the past several days. I am mystified and confused as to why this happens. Mostly I'm horrified that people in the church can be so purposefully mean to and about their pastor and/or his wife.

I don't even know if I can adequately explain it either. I think it's something you have to experience. I was friends with a pastor's wife long before I became one and while she told me things that had happened, I guess I didn't really believe it. Not that I didn't believe her--I absolutely knew she was being truthful. But I just couldn't wrap my mind around it fully enough to know it as truth. I know, clear as mud.

People want their pastors to both succeed and fail. Frequently they try to set them up for failure. Others want their own way and if they don't get it, they fully intend to make the pastor suffer for it--at least if they can get away with it.

I've cried not only because my feelings have been really hurt but also because they just don't get it. Their tunnel vision has caused them to miss the opportunities they have to serve others, to share Christ, and to love people. They are so preoccupied with themselves that they have forgotten what the purpose of the church is.

And then tonight some friends had us over for dinner. They know us so well. They've seen our warts (proverbial of course!). Yet they love us. They so encouraged us to keep going. And they've committed to walking beside us, both figuratively and literally, as we make our way through this maze of heartache.

It's people like them that keeps a pastor going. I challenge you today to be one of these people. Give your pastor (and his wife) the benefit of the doubt, seek them out if you have a question or even a complaint. Don't be one of those anonymous complainers, whiners, or gossip mongers whose apparent purpose is to squash the Holy Spirit. Come alongside them, encourage them, lift them up in prayer, and hold them accountable when necessary and if you have the relationship with them to do it.

Just love them to pieces. Esteem them.

A Pretty Good Flick

Yesterday we went to Paul Blart: Mall Cop. It was just as funny as it looked in the previews which was pretty amazing. That isn't always the case. Frequently a movie looks really good in the previews and then it's a bomb. Obviously showing the best parts of the movie in small 2-3 second segments is great strategy but doesn't always bode well for the viewer.

Case in point - last week we got Step Brothers from Netflix and it was one of the most horrible movies ever. We shut it off within 15 minutes. The previews made it look hilarious but it was not. Foul is really the only word that comes to mind.

As a total aside, I so love Netflix! Our region's distribution center is in Butte so if we return a movie Monday, we have another one in our box on Wednesday. We're on the 1-at-a-time plan and it's really worth the $8.99 per month. Plus we get to watch all the instant, on-request shows we want. If you love movies, I encourage you to check it out! And I wasn't even paid for that endorsement...

Humor in the Mundane

We have the funniest things that happen as we process contributions. Let's face it, with such a daunting task facing us every week, we have to be able to see the lighter side. These things may not seem funny to anyone who isn't there but I was chuckling to myself about a few of them today so here I am posting on it.

Frequently we have to fill out envelopes on behalf of those who don't. One week Tami stared at an envelope for a minute and then remarked how that person had writing just like hers. Then she realized it WAS hers. We still laugh at that and make fun of her.

Last week I was making conversation as we worked and I said, "Hey, I met a new guy today." After a few seconds of silence, Lindsay started laughing and asked, "does Steve know that?" Then she and Tami proceeded to mock me for several minutes. (As an aside, I was referring to a new person at church I had the privilege of meeting. There are so many visitors these days and we're in and out rather quickly with our responsibilities in Laurel so this was lots of fun for me. It really wasn't that weird.)

But, here's one of the funniest things that happened although it wasn't while we were counting. One day Tami and I were working on some stuff and she asked if I could hand her the "to pay" file. It's a file where she stores invoices and statements that need to be paid (thus the creative name). However, I didn't have the advantage of reading it as you just did, I was going on verbal only. After she said it I just stared at her for the longest time until she pointed to the file cabinet. Here's why: she said "to pay" but it translated to my brain as "toupee" and for the life of me I couldn't figure out why we'd have a file about toupees. All of a sudden it hit me and I just bent over in laughter. Once I caught my breath I explained why it was so funny. We now laugh every single time we refer to that file.

There's some random things that give me a delight.

That's What The Text Said

I love my whacky friends and that my craziness isn't horribly out of place with them. Check out this text message from yesterday:

Me: The package is at the rendezvous point. Eagle 1 over and out.

Her: Roger that no butt!! Big chicken over and out!!!

I'm a Blessing With Jelly

I was given the most unusual opportunity to bless someone this week and I never would have thought jelly could be the avenue. Yet it is.

A friend of mine is going through some difficult financial times and even though we don't have money running out our ears, God is more than providing for us. As an aside, our accountant told us yesterday, "you know, you had a $25,000 decrease in income between your 2007 and 2008 taxes." Um, yeah, we're intimately acquainted with that detail. It's on top of a $20,000 decrease from the 2006 to 2007 tax year. Yep, we're very well aware...it equals $45,000 a year. We talked about it on our way home from getting our taxes done and the only explanation for why we're not drowning is that it's all God. We're being rewarded for our obedience and faithfulness.

Anyway, my friend went to the pantry to get a new jar of jelly for pb & j lunches and as she walked to the counter, it slipped out of her hand, breaking in a million pieces on the floor (okay, maybe not a million but definitely a lot). It was more than she could bear after everything else had already piled up. As she was telling me the story I knew I was going grocery shopping and I asked her if I could please pick some up for her. She didn't ask me to and she wasn't telling me the story so I would. She seriously didn't want to let me but I managed to talk her into it. That's what friends and family do. With a broken and humble heart, she finally conceded.

As I perused the jelly shelves today at the store I found just the thing I know will make her laugh.....jelly in a plastic jars. Technically I don't know if jars can be plastic or if they are glass by their nature but you know what I mean, right?

I can't wait to give them to her tomorrow! In the meantime I'm reminded at how sometimes it's the small things God brings our way that are opportunities to serve or bless others. I never would have thought a jar of jelly would fall into that category but since it does, I wonder how many other times I've missed (or dismissed) these opportunities because they are just small, regular, every day things.

Anyone with me? Anyone have a similar story to share?

Not So Serious

I get this strange (at least people tell me it is) delight when someone messes up their words or gets them in the wrong order. It so totally cracks me up. Usually it's not in a place where I can put my head back and laugh loudly. For some weird reason it happens a lot in church. Like this past Sunday for instance. Steve said, "this is the last series in the current sermon...." instead of "last sermon in the current series". I really had to hold it in too because it didn't seem anyone else got it and I didn't want to give him a complex. Of course I told him about it later so maybe that's not working so well for me. Plus, I sit up front to run the computer media and I don't want to draw any more attention to myself than is necessary.

On an entirely different note, I managed to get in some cleaning tonight although I'm far from the in depth spring cleaning I need to complete in the next couple weeks. Few things make me feel as good as cleaning all those places that don't get done regularly and getting rid of stuff I don't use while organizing what I do use and want to keep. I love it!

That's probably why I think this cartoon is so funny.

The Tough Stuff

This weekend I ran headlong (at full speed of course) into a brick wall of heartache. But it wasn't mine. I was talking to a friend about casual happenings over the past few weeks since I'd seen her. I jokingly told her how exasperated I was and she said, "I bet I can top that."

I said, "Okay, let the competition begin." We're both sarcastic and dramatic and frequently out-do each other based on the silliest stuff. It's generally nothing. Not this time. If only, but no.

"My husband left me," she said. There was no hint of the jokester in her words. She was dead serious. Yet I still asked the world's dumbest question...."are you serious?" Duh. Of course she was--nobody jokes about that. I was speechless as she continued to talk. She married at 19 so it's been a little more than 20 years. That's right, 20 years. And just like that, it's over.

Did you know you can file online for divorce? I didn't until Saturday. Well, he did and she already got the credit card bill. How despicable is that? Could they make it any easier?

I asked what I could do for her and she said, "just pray for me." Since she doesn't even know Christ, this is huge. Almost as an afterthought she said, "and give me a hug." I hugged her and the tears ran down my cheeks.

My heart is broken for my friend. She's got a long road ahead of her. I intend to be there for every step she takes but at the end of the day, she'll still go home to her empty house and cry alone. I can't stop it. I can't make the pain go away. I wish I could.

This is the tough stuff.