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And now the trumpet fanfare---- This blog IS moving. I've loved this homeschool community here but know I need to get my blog into a wider audience. As one woman told me, "When I saw the homeschoolblogger address, I thought there's nothing there that would relate to me..." (Thankfully, she came anyway and is now a regular reader. ;) ) Additionally, I'll be able to do more things at wordpress, not the least of which is be able to feed the blog into facebook. In my Creative Connections group, one of the things we've identified as my weak spot is the marketing of my writing and these changes are intended to help me in that department. So, I shall miss my home here...but with out further adieu---see you at: http://www.themotherlode.wordpress.com |
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According to a poll by a BBC wildlife magazine, half of 9-11 were unable to identify a daddy long legs(known in our home as "ACK! Jay!) or an oak tree (Lode translation: that thing that drops acorns on your lawn). Tsk. Tsk. I can't imagine a childhood without the wonder of trying to feed chipmunks or playing with turtles. Kids are move involved with messing on the puter or being inside, the report says. Around here, we have nature guides laying all over the place and a pair of binoculars hanging at the entryway. We love watching wildlife (and I'm not talking at WalMart) and delight when we can identify a new bird or flower. And I've found that Jesus' admonition to "Consider the birds of the field..." is one of the most effective ways I find to relax. But I will say this...Caleb's latest interest is SNAKES. I've looked at more than my share of pictures of them. Now there's a creature I could happily be ignorant of. Ditto for those spiders. ;) We're off to the Millers today for a 212 Connection get together. (www.212connection.com) Should be a great day for great brainstorming, great food and great fun. |
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School To Put Students In 'Prison' Jumpsuits As Punishment http://www.local6.com/education/17035594/detail.html This is the sort of headline that can make a humorist rub their hands gleefully….especially after my blog entry the other day where I note that the differences between prisons and schools are sometimes barely perceptible. However, my smile was wry at best. The navy blue jump suits are to be donned by students who break the dress code. I can see the wisdom behind this…a girl shows up with her, er, BUTTerflies showing. Or a young man with the crack of dawn peering up from his baggy boxers. Mom and Dad have abdicated their parental responsibilities by allowing their kids to dress like a Las Vegas lounge act. Or like a gangsta thug. What’s a harried school Enter the jumpsuit. It’s another sad testimony what happens when the state assumes the role of parent. |
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Remember that song, "We Bring the Sacrifice of Praise"? Well, our friends Kirk and Deby Dearman wrote that. (And a gazillion other songs you've likely sung.) Anywho, I wanted to give a shout out on their behalf. They are now available to sing/share at your venue! And another thing----Check out Deby's photography at debydearman.com. Her photos and cards are unlike anything I've ever seen. She is so gifted and her ability to capture images is....well, you gotta go check it out for yourself. Finally, you've heard me talk about our friend West before. (www.medicinecoach.com) While I'm typing this entry, I am listening to his podcast and loving every second of it. Click on his podcast and hear some common sense. He's "Quackter Report" is HILARIOUS. Don't miss his current one on "poop." (I'm still laughing....) Check it out!!! |
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Oh wait! There’s razor wire. Must be a prison. Sometimes the differences are barely perceptible. This was the startling revelation I had when researching the Tennessee Prison for Women for an article I’m writing. I mean really! Check it out and tell me if you don’t have flashbacks to your alma mater. I could almost smell the mystery meat simmering in the cafeteria picture. And I could recall the dread of entering into my former middle school building. Here are some more similarities: Prison has a warden---Government schools have a principal. Occupants of the buildings are required by law to be there. (Unless school-aged children are educated elsewhere. Thank God we can still do this.) Operating budgets are bloated. Its management is dictated by politically correct thinking. Both institutions have a pre-lease program. (In schools it’s called “graduation.”) Okay, I know, I know. I could keep going on but I’ll restrain myself. I am not a complete anarchist…I just have a problem with the socialism that drives education or the philosophy that can be summed up with a quote from that logical sage, Spock, “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” (From “The Wrath of Kahn.”) Children are not generic little people. They are individuals with creativity and unique gifting. And by stuffing them into a “one size fits no one” institution…we imprison their souls. And the oh-so-sad fact, those who fall through the cracks the most in the system get more than their souls imprisoned. |
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Being a student of human behavior, I love people watching. And I knew I'd be in for an eye-full at a second hand store clearance sale. Everything was .99 cents. (The store lost their lease.) By the time Daniel and I got there, the store was a abuzz with bargain shoppers. Old and young, fat, skinny, well-dressed and the slovenly. And all were hell-bent on their mission: Get more stuff! It's only ninety-nine cents for crying out loud! I sucked in a deep breath and jumped in. Daniel headed back for the vintage 8mm films he had been watching. (And previously marked at $24.99) After I cruised through the store perusing the dregs, I decided to queue up since the line was rather long. So I settled in for human behavior observation. Class was in session. I was in line but a minute when marital disharmony broke out behind me. A couple had lined up, their cart spilling over with tired bedspreads, dusty lampshapes and the like. The wife fingered a large, gaudy mirror for a dresser off to the side of the aisle. "Let's get this!" she said as her bejeweled fingers stroked the top edge. "What do you need that for?" the husband asked, rolling his eyes. "And besides, it's sold already." He pointed to the "sold" sign. "Yes, because I'm buying it, " she said. Nature documentaries flashed through my mind as I pictured territorial grizzlies challenging each other for the carrion. "You can't just do that!" he hissed. Miss Diamonds responded by ripping off the sold sign. "It's only ninety nine cents!" she retorted. "But what are we going to do with it?" the voice of reason spoke. Silence ensued as she wandered off to look at some dented percolators. In the meanwhile, in front of me, a woman was fingering a hose carrier, attempting to angle her cart into the line with a very innocent look on her face. A few people down, a hefty fellow wearing bib-overalls, the sides unbuttoned, with an arm full of Hank Williams Albums with looking at the long line with despair. He too attempted to nudge in. It was hard keeping them at bay with my mental forcefield. Finally, both relented and moved to their rightful place at the back of the queue which by this time, was stretching into another time zone. Daniel made a few brief appearances showing me little doo-dads. I silently shook my head no. The fellow in front of me finally got up to the till. He pointed to the computer monitor he had hauled through the store. It was the size of a VW Bug. "What if this doesn't work?" he asked with a hopeful look on his face. I wanted to slap him. I wanted to slap everybody. But I especially wanted to take him and slap him. Really hard. Maybe grab him by the back of his receeding hairline and bodyslam him into the monitor. More nature documentaries flashed through my mind. IT'S A NON-PROFIT LOSING ITS LEASE AND YOU WANT TO DICKER OVER A NINETY-NINE CENT MONITOR?!?!?!?!?! The clerk was more civil than I. He simply shrugged and said, "Look, it's ninety nine cents." So the fellow took a crowbar to his wallet and paid. Daniel paid for his three items and we fled before I became an interesting subject for human behavior observation. Not that anyone would have noticed. They were too busy filling their carts. |
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We are so excited....yesterday, Jay followed up on one of our new clients and came out with a long list of other services he can provide. And then he started bookkeeping services with a stellar insurance agency also. We are really excited to find that as we step out....we are indeed finding open doors. This morning I was reading in Matthew where Jesus says, Knock and the door will be opened. You know the Scripture, right? We've been very guilty over the years of treating these verses as something for the prayer closet only. Applying that verse to business start up certainly gives it new life. Not that we're so naive to think every time we walk toward it, the door's going to swing wide open. That's where persistence steps in. Book projects are picking up steam too. I've got a working title for my humorous book. "The Mother Lode's Guide to Putting the Fun in Dysfunction". Also- Jay and I are working on "The Homeschool Dad's Guide to Business Start Up". (The latter will be an ebook.) Another goody. The ladies entrepreneur group I'm part of, "The Creative Connection" is picking up speed too. Lots of brainstorming, laughter and goal assistance are helping me focus on pulling off these lofty goals. Finally---Come October, I will be speaking at the Christian Women in the Marketplace in Brentwood, TN on "Labels are for Soup Cans". (I'll be speaking about how quick we are to label children.) I'll keep you posted. In the meanwhile, pop over to Facebook and look me up. I feel like an official modern mom now. When you're there, you'll be able to meet my ladies group which we'll put under "Creative Connection." |
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And now for some pithy ponderings. One of my worst enemies is fatigue. Here is where I’m at my most vulnerable for negative thinking and an Eeyore disposition. And last night was a doozy. (I’m sure business busyness and moving have nothing to do with it. ;) ) We visited with a young man who, at the age of 27, is a very successful entrepreneur. He started one of his businesses when he was 17! And both he and his wife have already done things that we still dream of doing. So I started musing. What the heck have we been doing the past 20 years? And while I was thinking this, I had to go pick up the kids from our old neighborhood where they were playing. I was ripe for more negative thinking. Why on earth did we leave here? (I certainly wasn’t considering the positive solid reasons why we did.) Before I knew it, my mind was awash with “could haves” and “should haves”. Yuck. I told Jay regret is like a poisonous drink we feel compelled to drink. We can be so good at beating ourselves up…and it does absolutely no good. Our good friend Dan Miller in his years of coaching and counseling thousands of people, has made a wise observation of human behavior. It goes something like this (with apologies to Dan for the poor translation): Those who are struggling with depression and regret are those constantly looking in the past. Those who have hope and vision are looking forward. Pretty powerful stuff. Then I read another cool quote. A man who keeps one eye on the past is wise. A man who keeps two eyes on the past is blind. Might I add that with that blindness one will be unable to see the new opportunities that are all around us? (When was the last time you saw a bird fretting over lack of opportunity? God has placed us in a world of abundance. Of course, those birds don't need health insurance or gas, but that's another subject.) And how about this one: Every adversity, every failure and every heartache carries with it the Seed of an equivalent or a greater Benefit. -- Napoleon Hill, Think and Grow Rich Well, last night I decided I needed to fight fire with fire so I got out the big guns: A dish of ice cream and my “Keeping Up Appearances” CD for a laugh. Thankfully, my head is screwed on a little better today. And it gets even better----according to Paul Harvey, researchers are continuing to uncover surprising health benefits to people who drink a LOT of coffee. Looks like I have a very long life ahead of me! PS For the record...while we do miss our old house and neighborhood, being completely debt-free is an unbeatable feeling. |
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It's back to dish days (the kids LOVE doing dishes! Not.), doing laundry with my very own washer and dryer and Caleb's most favorite----THE RETURN OF THE BEANIES!!! As we settle back into *somewhat* of a suburban lifestyle again, Caleb is as happy as can be to have his beloved beanie babies back from the bowels of storage. Right now, he and Molly are playing happily with all 100+ of them. Going from RV living to back to a stix and bricks is a mixed bag. I miss those cozy chats at bedtime when we would all visit from our beds. But I also appreciate Jay and I have some alone time now. (Jay and I didn't a date or any time alone.) Housekeeping in an RV is a snap...but it also takes a snap to trash it out too. ;) The simplicity of the RV lifestyle still holds tremendous appeal and is something we are constantly reaching toward. I've never been a big "stuff" person and even more so now. Lots of things to reflect on. But in the meanwhile, the happiest reunion is the Beanies. (And this coming from the same boy who, a few days ago asked, "Mom? Can I buy a rocket and a Barbie?") |
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So I'm standing in a grocery store checkout when this headline caught my eye: "Blast Away Belly Fat! How Shannon went from fat to fabulous in 6 weeks! Being the hopeful skeptic I am, I picked it up. And it figures. Shannon is a 20-something new mommy. As far as I'm concerned....post partum pictures do NOT qualify for "before" pictures in weight loss ads. Especially in women who were still playing with barbies when I was bearing children. Since childbearing, weight management is my ever present battle. I've seen "The Amazing Squirrel Diet" which consisted of a vigorous tree climbing regime coupled with a diet heavy in raw nuts to the "Mayo Clinic Diet" which is used on patients needing to lose weight quickly before bunion surgery. The latter mentioned diet is not to be confused with The Mayo which includes copious amount of mayonaise served in combination with Oscar Meyer Weiners. It said the molecular structure of the food creates a unique synergy guaranteed to melt away the fat. Honey, the only way I know how to melt away fat is to put a stick of butter in the microwave. I flipped through the magazines headlines. There was the Calista Flockhart diet that seemed pretty easy: Don't eat. But then my heart leapt. "The Double Chin Diet! Get a chin like Leno's in 3 weeks or less!" I don't consider myself a vain person but there is one teensy little thing that if I could change about me it would be.....I'd like a nice chin. A gazelle neck. A sharp profile. A jaw that meshes nicely. Between Dad's lack of a sharp chin and mom's propensity to carry a little weight there....well, I'm doomed. And it ain't getting any easier as I get older. I flipped open the magazine. It showed before and after pictures of a women with more chins than a Chinese phonebook. Hmmmm. Maybe my profile wasn't so bad after all. The "after" picture was amazing, why it was miraculous! I had trouble believing it was the same woman. So I scrutinized it. Whoopsies. Who ever edited the photo failed to keep the same eye color. But then again, what does one expect from "World Weekly News" - those same clever folks who bring amazing stories like: Woman Gives Birth to Crocodile! Photo editing software is wonderful isn't it? I sighed and reached for a Snickers. My next stop would be Staples. They carry Photoshop. |
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And now for a pause to provide an unsolicited, uncompensated endorsement: You need to check out our friend West Connor's website. West is a pharmacist and a treasure trove of knowledge coupled with some good old fashioned common sense. If you're taking medication on a regular basis, you owe it to yourself (and your checkbook) to check out his resources. What I like about him is he's not afraid to "tell it like it is" something many medical folks dare not do. For instance, in his recent newsletter he talks about the dangers of using too MUCH sunscreen! Or have you fretted over using DEET on your kids to keep the skeeters off of them? Read his newsletter. West knows his stuff! And unexpected bonus: Be sure and read through to the end where he has a couple of "You Tube" clips. He says "Never judge a book by its cover." Take a few minutes to watch these clips. They are incredible. http://www.medicinecoach.com |
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Shhhhhhh! Don't tell anyone but that angel of mercy who shows up in a hospital ministering to your medical needs might---just might----have a very dark alter-ego. Oh, she's not going to inject catsup into your IV or anything like that. She's a skilled and very fine nurse of many years. Additionally, she's always the one with a hot meal when you're sick....or help for your kids....or a word of encouragement....or a... And that is why what I'm about to tell you is so shocking. I reference her off-hours activities. I for one was stunned beyond words when she told me of some nefarious deeds. The topic was dogs and the various breeds. I mentioned my dislike for yippy poodles and muscular breeds with names like "Fang" and "Killer." It was then I saw a change take over her usual pleasant demeanor. "I hate Schnauzers," she said with a growl. Her dark eyes turned flinty. Being Native American, in a flash I could envision the warrior laying deep within her. Something had awakened. "Really," I said. Her voice continued darkly. "I had a friend who had a Schnauzer and when I'd go over to her house when she wasn't there... that dog....it would run from me and hide under the bed..." My eyes widened. "....and I'd pull that thing out from under the bed and beat the sh** out of him!" her eyes danced with maniacal joy. She threw back her head and laughed with abandon. (Note to PETA readers: She has since reformed her ways. I think.) It did sound like a nasty little creature. And almost as quickly as she told the story, she morphed back into the kind and gentle nurse/homeschooling mom that I know so very well. I had largely forgotten this tale until I received a birthday card from her the other day. Upon opening it "Thank you for being a friend" rang out from the card. A bill fell from the card, "For coffee----it's inspirational for writing, you know." My eyes were getting misty. And then I spotted a small post script in the corner. It read: If you try not to be my friend, I'll get all my Indian friends to beat you up. A shudder ran through my body. Honey, I'd never dare NOT be your friend. And should I ever change my mind....I know not to hide under the bed. |
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What? You don't know what a burka is? Is that head to toe covering Muslim women wear. Would you love to wear one? I didn't think so. Religion does that to people. Places very difficult demands upon us. (Not to mention how hot those get-ups would be in the middle eastern sun.) It's the Muslim idea of "modest dress." But last time I checked, it's not doing to well as far as keeping men from falling into their womanly snares--the Muslims are one of the fastest growing religion in the world. Muslims aren't know for their leniency when it comes to religion-- their tenants are non-negotiable. Sort of makes you glad you're not Muslim,eh? Yeah, me too. Then I received this email announcing a homeschool conference. Oh! Maybe I'll attend. I've used the vendor before and I'm familiar with their products. So, I looked for dates in my area and get to the end of the email where this is BOLDLY written :(I split that infinitive for you, Sheryl.) In keeping with proper Christian dress codes, ladies must wear modest dresses or skirts and blouses. They even had it set off in a little box so one would be sure not to miss it. Geesh. Just when I was feeling pretty good about not wearing a burka. Granted, I understand that these folks don't want low-riders and lingerie tops worn to the convention. But what exactly does "modest" mean? Will there be someone at the door with a ruler to make sure dresses fall two inches below the knee? Are leopard prints (something I find offensive to the eye) too risque? What about the sister who is fond of red? Would that be considered immodest being such a splashy color? I'll quit being snarky and ask---What about me in my Levi's? I'm as modest as they come (read: BORING) but do you think they'd let me in? Once we start setting ourselves up as rule-keepers...precious freedom is lost. The more I think about it...we're not so different from those radical Muslims when it comes to religiousness. (Remember the Crusades?) Grace and grace alone is what should set followers of Christ apart. Not our clothes. Not our Sunday school attendance. Or how well we perform. But human nature being what it is and I, being a good capitalist...may set up shop outside that homeschool convention for the ungodly who show up inappropriately attired. And I have a very important question for the homeschool folks---What about the men who show up with hair touching their collars? |
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Here's my latest article from VIP Williamson County: Franklin’s Rwandan Warrior By: THERESA LODE Jared Miller is a marked man. Literally. And while tattoos may be more common these days, the message on Miller’s tattoos isn’t. I mean, when was the last time you saw a tattoo in Latin? (And in case your Latin is a bit rusty, the words mean “Truth and Justice.”) And if you’re really curious, you can ask Miller to show you the brand he received on his forearms when he participated in the Kenyan Massai “Warrior” ceremony; a rite which involved drinking the blood of a bull.) He humbly tells me the Massai name given him: Olieg’noni. It means “The Bull.” No, he hasn’t been on any African version of “Fear Factor.” Nor is he a hip lawyer with an eclectic approach in the courtroom. (Besides, Miller’s never been to college---unless of course you don’t include his speaking engagements at places like Belmont University.) But yet, this 30-year-old Franklin resident is impacting lives a world away in Kigali, Rwanda, Africa. One might even say that, on the battlefield for the poorest of the poor, the Massai got it right—Miller is a Bull. His organization, Sisters of Rwanda, was founded a mere two years ago with Kenyan Pastor Joseph Ayienga. Its mission: To ensure justice, equality and sustainable economic opportunities for Rwanda’s most oppressed and vulnerable women. But you won’t find this mission statement engraved in gilded letters in a swank office. (Though Miller says he finds his small, open air, concrete home comfortable.) This is a brass tacks operation---the budget is lean and mean----and the day-to-day life raw, honest…and full of wonder for God. A long-time philanthropist, Sisters of Rwanda isn’t Miller’s first foray into humanitarian work. As the son of local best-selling author, Dan Miller and his wife Joanne, Miller was raised in a home where entrepreneurialism and community service go hand in hand. The plan- create an Rwandan- accessories brand made by the hands of women rescued from a life of prostitution and violence, in an environment safe for both them and their children. The brand name- “KEZA” (pronounced “kay-suh”). KEZA, traditionally spelled with all capitalized letters, means “Beautiful” in the native language of Kinyarwanda. Miller isn’t out to create another not-for-profit entity dependent upon itineration and guilt offerings generated by photos of the poor natives. And while the pictures are compelling, Social Capitalism is what’s driving this organization. Eventually, KEZA will become a self-sustaining, honest-to-goodness money generating enterprise whose end is to bring economic independence to those who would otherwise not have the chance. It’s a trend being seen more and more as traditional non-profit organizations compete for shrinking dollars. It’s a tough market out there. And Social Capitalism is reinventing how charitable giving is done. The “Teach-A-Man-To-Fish” model, if you will. Or in the case of Sisters of Rwanda, teach women to be business women who will make fashion industry products that will sell all over the world. From the comfort of our Williamson County homes, it may be hard to imagine the terror that these women have endured. Incomprehensible poverty and tribal warfare have driven many of the women into the horrors of prostitution. (Be sure and check out one of the Sister’s testimony at www.sistersofrwanda.blogspot.com.) But it is through the depth of these horrors that the stories of redemption shine. This year, Sisters of Rwanda has brought 42 women into safety and freedom. And over 100 children will be sent to school—a critical step in breaking the legacy of poverty and despair. The processes through which the KEZA necklaces are made seem poignant when one considers how what is regarded as worthless trash is turned into treasure. Paper is gathered from the littered streets and turned into strips of paper. From there, beads are rolled and strung. Three coats of varnish give the beads strength and brilliance. All in all, it’s a week long process which ends with a stunning one-of-a-kind necklace. Necklaces retail for $40 and 95% of the profits go directly back in to growing operations (and hence, opportunities for the women). Days at The Treasure Center (the facility where the work is done,) are both begun and ended with maintenance, cleaning or gardening duties for the large garden. Stewardship is emphasized by Miller, “God gave us this place and we need to treat it as such.” Their spirits are also nurtured daily through devotions and music; Pastor Joseph serves as their spiritual leader. It’s a glaring contrast from their former lives. Laughter and the voices of children are heard throughout the day as the women work. The atmosphere, while light-hearted, doesn’t mean quality is slip-shod. One of Miller’s toughest jobs has been to set a standard of excellence in their work. “I pull on those necklaces,” he gestures, “and if they come apart…well…” He shrugs. If a necklace doesn’t pass muster-no pay is received. But yet he sees the reward when quality goes up and a woman experiences the pride of a job well-done (and subsequent bonuses too). It’s a process that Henry Ford would be proud of. Part of Miller’s success is, no doubt, due to his commitment to live like the natives. He speaks the language (Kinyarwanda,) eats the food, (a rather bland vegetable-based affair) and drinks the water. (“It doesn’t kill me,” he says.) “That’s part of my commitment to serving Rwanda and its inhabitants. If I don’t live like them, I can’t understand them.” And his passion for Africa is palpable- Jared is a human Wikipedia on Rwandan history and culture. To that end, he is also working to effect social change. “We have been working for over a year now on criminalizing the solicitation of prostitution, meaning that the client would be penalized, which has never been done in Africa before. Since 2007, we have gotten our bill passed from the Ministry of Justice, to the Cabinet, to Parliament, where it was received very well. We are working with Parliament to officially pass the law now,” Jared states. When his isn’t putting in a 12-hour work day, Miller can be found at his Kigali home, hanging out on his porch, where 95% of his time is spent participating in the rhythms of life as they unfold in his neighborhood. He also enjoys tossing around a football or teaching kickboxing with the local the boys he “adopted” a few years ago. In the meanwhile, on the other side of the world, the work for Sisters of Rwanda is carried out in Franklin in “The Sanctuary.” The Sanctuary, an outbuilding on Dan and Joanne Miller’s property and home to their fulfillment center for Dan’s 48 Days and 212 Connection businesses, is an appropriate place for the work in a home where the close knit family works behind the scenes. Jared is quick to state that his dad, Dan Miller, has been the chief influence in his life. (And if you read the senior Miller’s latest book, “No More Mondays,” you can taste and see for yourself.) Jared’s mom, Joanne, gives one a glimpse of the heart of mercy behind stateside operations. Joanne works tirelessly fund raising and being a local voice for the Sisters, (among her other numerous community services). Younger sister, Ashley Logsdon heads up necklace sales for KEZA and is in charge of sales and shipping. Older brother, Kevin Miller, is a business branding and positioning consultant at www.3piecebrand.com, and works with Jared to draw people to SOR with a ‘least of these’ perspective. Passion isn’t in short supply in the Miller clan. It is this passion, and the passion of numerous volunteers that continue to drive the accelerated growth and success of the Sisters--- but yet it still takes a reliance on outside donations to run the organization until financial independence is achieved. (And don’t tell anyone yet…but Jared says they will eventually be launching a beauty school thanks to the backing of a corporate sponsor.) In true Miller fashion, Jared is confident about SOR’s future and states, “At the rate we are growing, and if we can raise about $50,000 in supplemental donations, we should be self sustainable, totally, by this time next year.” It’s clear in visiting with this social warrior: Jared Miller’s heart is in Rwanda and it’s there to stay. He says, “I thank God every day that He has afforded me the opportunity to serve the way I do. I often smile and say, ‘I can’t believe I get to live this life’.” Jared will be in the Nashville area through the end of July and is available for speaking engagements. He may be reached at sor@sistersofrwanda.org. For businesses or individuals interested in retailing KEZA necklaces, you may email Ashley at: keza@sistersofrwanda.com Donations may be sent to: Sisters of Rwanda, PO Box 681381, Franklin, TN 37068-1381.
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I think I should write a book called "What the heck is that supposed to mean?" It will feature those dorky church marquees that say dorky things. And today's dorky marquee award goes to a local club that I drove by this morning as I listened to a DYNAMITE message on the current Success magazine CD. It said, " People Fail. God Rescues." And again I ask my question.  I don't know about you but a lot of the pain in my life has come from feeling like GOD has failed me. And some of the most poignant, touching times have come wrapped in the form of a loving friend. Yes, I've experienced feeling rescued by God but that's been the exception, not the rule. It's these sort of very un-pithy sayings that keep religion and its illusions alive and well. God is able to handle our honesty, really he is. And that rescue part? I've watched plenty of friends die...friends struggle year after year with health issues through no doing on their own...the mentally ill tormented....financial disasters, etc, etc.... This is the stuff we'd like God to wave his magic wand and make all the bleck go away. But he does rescue---- very often through the tremendous abilities he's put in the soul of every human----and through expressed kindest to our fellowman. It's pretty unspectacular compared to the glitzy promises religion offers. But the funnest part is that when you change your perspective and outlook on these things, one begins to see and find God in the strangest places. Oh---second runner up for todays dorky marquee award: "When God closes a door, he opens a window" What? Is he indecisive? Looking to get some fresh air in the room? Does he take pleasure in watching us try to squeeze through the window if things are a little dull in the heavenlies? Perhaps the door is broken and he wants us to head to Lowes? |
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44 years ago I made my splash into the world. Celebrating another b-day in a motel room feels eerily familiar. (Hello! Did this 3 years ago!) So my dear little ones gathered around me (AFTER coffee) to sing Happy Birthday. Dark chocolate, a DVD set of "Keeping Up Appearances" and my FAVORITE----a Josh Groban cd. And that's when Caleb chirped, "Let's watch mom cry!" Why the insensitive little..... So as I tap away, Josh is crooning. Happy Sigh. Happy Birthday to me.... PS One family tradition that brought an unexpected laugh. My sisters usually call and sing Happy Birthday. After the singing, my one sister told me about how she spent the 4th of July. Living in da UP (that's Michigan's Upper Peninsula, spoken with a heavy Canadian accent, for the uninitiated) affords some, how shall we say, unique cultural experiences. So she told me about the band, nice music she said. So nice with the fireworks, she said BEG YOUR PARDON? I wasn't sure if I heard right when she told me the style of the band. Big Band? Swing? Jazz? R &B? No on all accounts. A Finnish Reggae band. A FINNISH REGGAE BAND? I've heard of "niches" before but this is ridiculous. (Hey! Check 'em out Kevin!) You've GOT to be kidding. I could scare contain my hysterical laughter. Only in da UP, eh? Someone's been sitting in the sauna too long.... |
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Benny Hinn's been calling me again. Rather....his automated phone service beckoning us to come attend a Circus Meets Religion meeting. They're certainly persistent, I'll give them that. We've been out of the organized church scene for several years now and the longer I'm out the more happy and free I feel. Yes....I've become the apostate I was worried about several years ago. At first it was bewildering. All of my self-worth as a Christian was measured by my church involvement: cleaning the building, leading worship, children's ministry, blah, blah, blah. God smiled on me when I read my Bible, and frowned when I didn't. And we did a LOT of questioning. What's the matter with us? Why can't we just get with the program? Lord--is this YOU leading?! Looking back now I see we were asking the right questions...but we were asking the wrong person. The marketing of God, the commercialization of the Gospel...running "church" today has become big business. And the governing structure that we refer to as " church leadership" resembles a corporation more than it does what Jesus modeled. What grieves me more than anything though is the increasing irrelevance of "church." We've become more concerned about politics and silly programs designed to compel "Them" to come visit and "get plugged in." Much of it is well-intended, I am confident of that. But sadly, so many believers think fellowship means filling into a building on Sunday morning, listening to uplifting music (while staring at the back of someone's head) and an inspiring message...is church. Or worse yet....they get so blasted busy, like we did once upon a time, doing God's bidding (READ: PROGRAMS)....that we forget about RELATIONSHIP with him....and with our NEIGHBORS. Yeah...who ever coined the name "pew" got it right. We will now return to our regularly scheduled witty entries.... |
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It's so much fun looking for a rental. The assortment of humanity out there is both exhilarating...and frightening. (We *almost* had one until the landlord asked for a one year lease....up from her original agreement for a six month.) Last night we looked at a home that could have worked but the landlord was such a dour battle axe we decided we'd be afraid to lay our heads to rest at night for fear of our lives. She was constantly railing on the current tenant and complaining about how there were burned out light bulbs. "Look! There's only one bulb in that fixture!" She gestured with a sweeping hand and a look of disgust. Each comment was concluded with a throat clearing. Her daughter, a plumper version of the woman, also frequently cleared her throat and noted burned out light bulbs. She told us that the credit report would be $10.60 "And YOU have to pay for that" she said. She ranted about watering enough....and then the perils of over watering. More ranting about the current tenant. I didn't even know who she was but I sure felt bad for her; she is a single mom. And honestly, the house didn't look so bad to me. ("Obviously, she doesn't keep this up the way I would like," she huffed.) I wanted to snipe back, "Obviously, you're a....." Oh, never mind. We packed up our darn near perfect credit score and left. Ironic thing....she will probably find a new whipping post renter and her misery will self-propagate. Why do people choose to live that way? The other house featured a musty-mildewy smell. (Sheryl- I'm sure you would've LOVED it!) He was quite pleased with the garage turned "bonus" room. It was more of a bogus room. Putting carpet on the floor of a garage and removing the garage door doesn't magically transform it into a room. "Ah own these three here properties," he said in a thick Tennessee drawl. I looked out the window at the sad, sagging gutters and gave a weak smile. First one with the cash, gets the place,we were told. The highlight was a BEAUTIFUL home that had Molly walking around repeating, "That house is our destiny! That ROOM is my destiny!" ("Her" bedroom was pink with lime green curtains...her favorite colors right now.) I told Molly that being broke would be our destiny if we rented that place BUT to take it to a Higher Authority and see if He can't do something about it. (We will offer a lower rent and a shorter lease period and see if he nibbles.) This morning the search will continue. Thankfully, I have my "Creative Meeting of Beautiful Minds" meeting this afternoon. (It's a brainstorming group of 5 entrepreneurial women led by the brilliant and lovely Joanne Miller, wife to author/career coach, Dan Miller.) It will be a refreshing pause from the perils of house hunting. |
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We've had more than a bellyfull of driving around subdivisions and reading their pretentious names. "Cherry Hill at Landsdowne" or "The Highlands Estates at Tut-tut." Many times, the more haughty the name, the more modest the homes. Or the other end of the spectrum the really, REALLY hoity toity houses which mandate a mouthful.....Pinnacle Heights at Equestrian Hill. Who are they kidding? Well, Molly had a stroke of brilliance in naming our very own subdivison: Breakwind Estates. (Proposed slogan: It's a Gas!) Soon, the dreadful backseat bickering ended as we all proposed street names for Molly's subdivision. Consider: Cesspool Court! Potty Court! Fecal Trail! (That was Jay's idea) Trotts Landing! We may have to add a few "e"s to our names...ergo....Cesspoole Court. (Get the pointe?) And of course, all new homeowners would get some of that fantastic toilet paper I wrote about the other day. Who ever said you have to be a seventh grader to enjoy seventh grade humor? |
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We're back in civilization now. The after effects of our camping are lingering. One child has an embedded tick head that we must operate on. My ankle is red and rashy from bug bites. And Caleb's third round of poison ivy is clearing up. I was internally lamenting my woes when an ad came on in the hotel lobby TV, (we have a few days before we get into our rental,) when I received an answer to my woes. Since the "mute" button was on (mankind's greatest invention,) I was left to decipher what the ad was about. It featured well-dressed women looking especially plucky at they admired their thin bodies in a mirror. A few preen appreciatively. The words "Comfort" and "Confidence" floated across the screen. My oh my! What was the product! I want to look at myself in the mirror with such confidence! I wanted comfort! Confidence! Yes, Yes, YES! What is this wonderful product?! A Dale Carnegie course? Weight Watchers? A new coffee shop? Nope, nope and nope. It was for TOILET PAPER. TOILET PAPER! Northern Toilet Paper. When was the last time you looked at toilet paper with such high expectations? But I guess when your selling such a humble product, there's only so much a marketing genius can produce. Either that or someone is having way too much fun in the bathroom. By the way, don't you think "Southern" would be a more appropriate name for this brand? |