e-votions

Need a topic...want to write...

2009-11-21T10:38:00.005-06:00

But it's almost 11 and I need to go to the bank and figure out why my new ATM card hasn't arrived.

So I'll dazzle ya some other time. Have a lovely weekend.

Oh, shut up. You didn't come here to read. I have archives, you know. I'm going to shut this one down and reconfigure and start working on some typical Cari writing, more true to my style with publishing in mind, not blabbering.

Take now, for instance.

Medicated X One Year. Yeah, it's working.

Later.

Catching you up....

2009-09-12T00:00:00.002-05:00

What can I tell you about my first year of ADHD medication? A few things. I still feel like a sell out, and in truth, I'm not taking it because I believe it helps curb the negative symptoms of ADHD. I am taking a pill so others can feel better about me. I am also taking it because I have lost 31 lbs. since October. I am ready for cooler weather so I can start walking and see if I can get back to losing, cause I've stalled out. Finally, I'm taking it because my kids say there's a huge difference. Especially in trips to Wal-Mart.

The only way I know how to explain my difficulty shopping is this: if you go to the store for a certain product, you will return with that product, maybe an impulse item or two. Not me. I will go to the shampoo aisle, say, and instead of seeing an aisle with shampoo and grabbing the ONE I like and always use, I see one million individual bottles in all the colors and sizes, and I have to inspect each one to make my decision. Now, you compound that with everything else on my normal grocery list, you'll understand. Many times I'll go for one thing, spend $200 on impluse items, and get home without what I went for anyway.

I did notice when I went sans-pill to WalMart, it was a very long and frustrating trip. And I lost my car. Sighhhh.....

Radiate

2009-01-05T22:05:00.002-06:00

Moses was a cool guy. I love studying the Old Testament, but I'm especially drawn to Moses right now. What a passion he had for people! If you read about God's anger against the Israelites in their idolatry, you then see Moses pleading for their lives, offering to give his own in their place. Paul did the same thing, but get this: Paul had the knowledge that God would not allow that; he knew that a man could only answer for his own sin. Moses had no idea. He only knew that God required death for sin, and that a sacrifice was acceptable. Moses really and truly offered to go to hell for those people in earnest. How heavy his heart must have been as he went to be with God, to offer his own life!

Moses spent a lot of time with God. In fact, so much so that he got to speak to Him face to face, like a friend. He didn't get to see His face, but He did get to have intimate conversation with Him! God even allowed Moses to see all of His goodness, and He proclaimed His name. The Lord! The Lord! The compassionate God! What must it have been like to hear His voice?

Later, the people stood at their tents to watch Moses go and speak to God. Moses, who radiated the glory of God, was going to speak to God for the people. It occurs to me that I am not content to watch someone else display the glory of God and to speak to Him for me. I want to be with God. I want to radiate His glory, and to stand as a witness of Him!

Chemically Enhanced

2008-10-07T20:46:00.002-05:00

Well, I decided not to blog every experience of every day. It kind of dawned on me that I was over-analyzing, so I've decided to just get on with the trial and look back and notice things. I've noticed that taking a stimulant with no sleep is stupid. Your body is exhausted and doesn't want to move but your mouth didn't get the memo. It's how I would describe being possessed, I suppose. I've also noticed that if I take it super early, then get home and take melatonin around 8, I sleep well. But still wake up spinning. And then there's the urge just to open my mouth and let everything in my brain spill out. I see more of a need for organization but really no ability to prioritize and do what needs to be done. It's like hyperfocus, all day every day. I seem to have lost the ability to jump from project to project.

I don't know if the omega-3 pill is doing anything, but it's good for my heart so I'll keep taking it. I love the idea of a daily vitamin.

My appetite is still gone. I eat a little each day, and then when the pill wears off I'm hungry and have to be careful about what I eat. I'll weigh at the end of next week to see if I changed any.

That's all. I'm good. Sunday was a great day, today not too bad, I'm just going to have to relearn some things. Honestly, if I can't work it out by the end of the trial and I haven't lost weight, I'll not refill. I feel like a sell-out taking it anyway.

11:30ish

2008-10-02T00:42:00.000-05:00

Migraine. Or close. I can't sleep.

Official Day One

2008-10-01T14:14:00.003-05:00

7:45am. I took my first correct dose. By 9 I was happy and chatty. No racing heart, no rush, but by 9:30 I felt a little warm and euphoric. It's not enough to tell if there is a difference, or if I am feeling relief after my 2 crazy days (previous post), or if it's a psychological high from the idea of being high. I am extremely energetic today, talkative, and per a co-worker, intensely focused, and I seem to not tolerate distractions well. Where before I was resigned to quickly shifting focus from task to task and then forgetting to go back, now I feel like a pitbull with my jaws locked and no intention of letting go. Maybe not that intense. It is 2:15 and I have no interest in eating. I skipped lunch because I was too busy to eat (that does NOT happen in my world) and have no interest in eating now. I will eat dinner tonite and try to get myself on a healthy diet, so that I get nutrition. If this remains permanent I think I could probably get on a real-live healthy diet, eating only what I need to and not everything that looks good.

Seriously, I could turn down fried food right now and not blink an eye. Nothing sounds good.

Derek said that I was strangely talkative this am from the time I got up. I didn't sleep great last nite even after 2 melatonin-I kept waking up and feeling an annoyance that it was too light in our room. It's possible that I woke up just as the first lights were making the black sky blue, and after fully waking just remembered it as all night, but I don't think so. Could I have heightened senses? I remember also being really aware of scent. Not bad, not good, just scent.

Right now I feel really good, having a good day, am tapping and drumming a lot. This is not a magical pill that has caused me to become Martha Stewart, but last night I caught myself squirting toilet cleaner in the loo while brushing my teeth, which I did obsessively for several minutes. My teeth, not the loo. Turns out, when you do that and wait awhile to flush, it sort of cleans itself. This morning I was in a decent mood instead of my normal brooding self, and I just started doing the dishes before work. And again brushed my teeth obsessively for several minutes.

Even with the generally good feeling, I am suspicious and cautious. I am not comfortable feeling good. I know that may be hard to understand, but basically I was comfortable and accustomed to my life. A better me may not be me, and I do't know that I want to be anyone else. I don't want to have to relearn life skills such as socialization and how to clean a toilet. How come I didn't know that before? That seems pretty basic. It's like on the old Rugrats show where Chucky got tired of being conspicuous with red hair so he colored it black. Then no one noticed him, like he was invisible, which he hated. I guess I have a need for attention and fear just being "one in the crowd." Change is always viewed with suspicion, and I may actually have to go thru grief stages if the "me" I knew is dying. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. In any order, at any pace, and randomly switching from one to the other and back again until full acceptance is acheived. But that's just a medical/psychological thing that I may be reading too much into or making too much out of. I seem pretty preoccupied with this. Better get my mind back to work and quit dwelling.

Anyway, that's as up-to-date as today will get because I have church tonite. Unless there are important symptoms to report, this is all. Oh-no facial twitch today. Maybe that was stress.

I changed my mind. Sue me.

2008-09-30T20:25:00.003-05:00

I know what I said. 100% against medication for ADHD. The counselor made a compelling arguement, though, and although I don't believe you should have to argue your patients into medications they are uneasy about, medically his research was mostly sound. I will not post or share his name as this is not a blog for or against him personally or professionally. And so I don't misremember, he wasn't inappropriately pushy.

This will be the objective (I hope) journal of my 30 day trial with Vyvanse. It is a way that I can have some sort of record of my experience. For those of you who know me and read me, I would love your feed back, especially if you see me a lot and notice any changes, negative or positive, that could be attributed to medication. My family is under strict orders to flush the meds if I seem unnaturally agitated or anxious after a few days of adjustment, or if I get weird, bad-edgy, lethargic, stupid, or turn into a Stepford Wife. My daughter is under strict order to shoot Derek and flush the meds if I become a Stepford Wife and he doesn't let on. My kids have permission to go stay at grandma's (any grandma's, preferably in another state) if they hear me complain about the wire hangers. (I don't like them for my clothes because you get shoulder-nipples in your sweaters, but they come in handy when I lock myself out of my car, an unfortunate and frequent habit of ADHD people. But really, they're just wire hangers. If I get freaky about it...)

If you are afraid of me for any reason and don't want to honestly tell me how you feel about my decision or any side effects you notice, you can tell Derek and he will anonymously post for you. That way, I'm getting feedback. I promise as your friend not to hold any comments against you or take offense for what you say. I don't need any help adjusting my personality, so this is not an opportunity for you to "fix" things about me that you didn't like before. I will know. And I will find you. I might add that I'm not sure this is the best time for strong negative opinions; if you feel you need to be ugly, then come to me personally and I'll show you why God gives some of us red hair, and why you're really lucky we're only 1% of the world. Seriously, though, I appreciate your honest opinion stated in love for me, your dear friend. Any fears about my taking medication are appreciated and understood, but you can't possibly be more concerned or worried than I am. Rest assured that I have been praying and seeking counsel, researching diligently, and have multiple plans with family and medical and mental health professionals in place should anyone (who knows me intimately) see any problems. Really, that is all the further you need to read unless you're interested in the minutae and tedium of what happened today. Should you decide to read on, note the following disclaimer-it may not be appropriate for the genteel with its vague hormonal references, and really, it's pretty dull and basically just a personal medical record of sorts. Absent the details, of course. I would be happy (probably disproportionately so) to answer any questions you have about ADHD as a medical issue (not at all psychological, though it has many mental and psychosocial manifestations) as it is a totally exciting, fascinating, and bewildering thing. But then, I kind of have this obsessive self-focus thing going on.

OK, so day one. I picked up my medication and even though the pharmacist said I should start fresh in the morning, I went ahead and took a pill this afternoon. One GLARING warning of this medication, which the counselor, prescribing MD and, disappointingly even the pharmacist deny, is a tendency toward addiction. This is an issue I will take up with them at my follow-up appointments. At about 5pm, a few hours after I took it, I did feel a little euphoria which was not at all unpleasant. I was seeing patients in their homes (literally, not hallucenogenically) and felt rather happy to see them, and extremely chatty. This is my way, to be chatty, but not with an elated euphoric feeling. If you've ever taken an opiate drug for pain (Lortab, Vicodin, hydrocodone, Percocet...) and LIKED it, this very much mimics the euphoric effects in strength but not duration. An addict may be prone to try and recapture or extend that feeling by over-dosing (not overdosing). Derek will be handling my pills for the duration of the experiment, because while I don't feel any kind of need or desire to take another pill, I rather liked the warmth and general feeling of well-being. By 5:15 I was merrily on my way home from my last patient's house about 5 miles from my own. Strangely, I chose to take South Western, which is best avoided at all times, but especially at this time. I had gone a full 2 miles when I realized I was going 35 mph behind an old man, contentedly tapping my fingers on the seat with no music playing. 3 extremely uncharacteristic traits-driving slowly without feeling road rage (the mild kind, not the murderous kind) drumming happily to no music, and not needing music blaring to take the edge off. Classic rock. BobFM or 107.7. Just in case you were wondering. I then realized that I felt hyper-aware of stuff going on around me: I noticed the car in front of me braking, felt the lanes around me that were clear or congested, and just had a level-headed feeling. I am an edgy, fast, and fairly dangerous driver. A recent news story said that there were questions about whether or not ADHD people were safe behind the wheel. For us, yes. For you, honestly, I have to say not. In my case, I have had several speeding tickets (I honestly do not feel I am going that fast, especially on open roads with little traffic, including rush hour) and a couple of accidents.

Well, by 6ish, I had come home and showered, (it's a nurse thing, I think) and Derek, who was off today, called me to dinner. Yes, we have Stepford Husband days. I came to eat the most perfect spicy grilled chicken on baby spring mix salad, with a corn and black bean dip and chips, and as of now, 9:10pm, I have been picking at a moderate serving for almost two hours. This is good food, and I have little appetite.

My kids have gone to their rooms because I am feeling this uncomfortable anxious feeling and things (noise, movement, activity) are getting on my nerves. It could be hormonal which is appropriate today (sorry guys-you were warned) or it could be because I have had a very long and exciting couple of days. Yesterday was chaotic and exciting, then as I began preparing for my appointment today, I called an old friend from my ER days who is a drug counselor and one of the most honest people I've ever known. We haven't spoken in about 3 years, since I left the ER and a little after, and I was devestated to learn he'd lost his battle with cancer. Last year. No one would have known to call me, so I can't be angry, but I cried myself to sleep with this tremendous sense of loss. I took melatonin as usual but couldn't sleep until around midnightish, and woke around 5:30. I say all that because on a good, busy ADHD day it isn't abnormal to have a type of depression or "day after Christmas" let down, and since I've been on sensory overload since about 9am yesterday, I could be facing that. Kind of like marathon runners who get depressed after finishing a race they've been preparing for.

See what I mean about chatty?

Right now, I think the agitation is wearing off. I looked at my plate just now sitting beside me and saw this strange wavy pattern, sort of like the reflection of fan blades, but not. Maybe more like gas fumes, but just on my plate. Ashton finally came back in to talk to me and I didn't feel at all bothered by her. That's not hormonal. Hormonal is all day. I've either chilled out from my long day, or it's the med wearing off.

I don't feel at all sleepy so I'm going to double up on my melatonin tonite to be sure I get a good night's sleep, and then start again in the morning. I can't believe how much I've written. This is like ADHD hyperfocus, but I can't say it's as great as hyperfocus, yet. We'll see when I am taking these pills regular. If so, look for my novel to be out later this fall.

Agitation is gone, strange vision has gone, and I feel kind of normal. My face has been twitchy for about two hours. I forgot to mention that. I feel like I could stay and write but I really need to make myself get on a good sleep schedule.

A Significant Distinction

2008-09-29T23:05:00.003-05:00

I was watching The Early Show while getting ready for work this morning and Bill Maher was discussing his new movie, "Reliculous" with Harry Smith, about ridiculous religion. I agree that we have our ridiculous ideals about how things should be, and while our actions are wrong, our motives are basically right-to want the world to be saved. At one point, Harry Smith said something to the affect of wanting Christians to actually act like Christ, and just love people, and Bill Maher agreed.

I got to thinking. It would be perfect if we'd all pull our heads out of our by-laws and book of don'ts and began to get active in the world and show some love. But the stark reality is that many people, while they say they want love, want simply a blind eye.

My children, when they were small, would be so angry at me for stopping them from doing things that would hurt them. Oh, they would scream as if I had caused them physical pain with the word 'no'. They were impetuous, and couldn't understand my love for them.

Not to call the people of this world children, but how many would really change if we showed them true unconditional love?

Does this require me to be parental, helping to guide someone to The Truth? Yes, I believe it does. Does this allow me to be militant, and a keeper of the law, passing out judgment to all who would dare to break a rule, or even bend one? No, I think not. The thing is, I can never know for sure how the world will react to God's love thru me unless I'm willing to show it.

I believe that for the most part the world genuinely wants love. But I also believe that there are impetuous people who would define that love as turning a blind eye.

Live by example, love unconditionally, and remember I'm not responsible for the action or reaction of another. I have my marching orders.

A Perfect Morning at Work

2008-09-29T13:34:00.002-05:00

Chaos. Disorder. Everything flying at me, not a chance to rest. Continuous interuptions and demands for my immediate attention. The morning seemed to fly by in a matter of minutes. And then stopped.

I look at my IN box knowing that I have more to do, but unless it's flying right at my head, I can't seem to find the motivation to go on. So I glare at the papers and they just sit there, no matter how ferocious my gaze.

I know that lack of motivation is not and excuse. It is a reason. So I'm going to try my best and conquer a small part of my mess at record time and hope that I find something urgent that has to be done yesterday.

Then there's the "are you kidding me" days...

2008-09-25T14:48:00.002-05:00

10 applicants. 5 were felons. 3 had no driver's license. Of the two remaining, one didn't carry car insurance and the other showed up with a child for the interview. I had to make the one return when she chose to get legal, and the other I had a ball interviewing.

If I asked you, "describe a typical day," you would regale me with stories of the things you do in your day-to-day life, or just your basic...typicalness. But when I asked this lady to describe a typical day, she actually answered, "Oh, warm and sunny."

I waited for, like, twenty full seconds for the rest of the story. When I realized that was it, I had a belly laugh begin to roll up into my throat. I couldn't speak for fear of laughing out loud. I looked down at my notes and pretended to thoughtfully write, but really it took me some time to compose myself. I finished the rest of the interview smiling big, just ready to get her out the door so I could laugh!

Wow. Where are all the good ones? 2 marginal new employees out of 10. Sigh.

I hired her. I need a laugh.

Hmphf

2008-09-23T19:03:00.002-05:00

I am taking melatonin, a hormone that occurs naturally in the body to make us sleep. In the instance of someone whose pineal gland doesn't produce it, you would find someone who doesn't sleep well and is cranky much of the time.

New problem. I wake easier, happier, and can get things together quicker, but by midafternoon my hyperactivity level soars. It's like I got too much sleep and caffeine. I can't focus, I'm extremely fidgety, and get agitated about silly things, like verbal instructions, any comments that seem to question my abilities, or the fact that coffee won't stay hot for 2 hours. Right now I am hitting a place where I feel physically and emotionally beat, but mentally I am still spinning. I don't know what to do with this.

I love how much sleep I'm getting-or rather quality sleep I'm getting. I don't know if it contributes to the afternoon hyperactivity or in contrast makes me more aware of it.

I don't care, I just need to find an outlet. I may start taking workout clothes to the gym at the office and running from 1pm to 2pm. I may lose weight and get relaxed and refocused. Or I may get sweaty and offensive, I don't know.

Okee dokee. Time to make dinner. Yes, this late. I ate a late lunch.

Bye, now!

My Frontal Lobe

2008-09-11T15:23:00.003-05:00

Finally, a scientific explaination for my head!

The frontal cortex of the brain is what controls impulse, organization, and motivation. Glucose (brain-fuel) is what kicks it into gear. My brain does not have a properly functioning glucose-secretion system (or something like that) and so when I try to concentrate, my brain goes to sleep. No joke! So telling me to focus is like telling the fat kid in gym to run faster. It's not that I don't want to, I'm just not able. I act primarily within the lymbic system-by emotion. This explains my ease in working in an emergency room. I simply react to all that goes on around me. Because of a lack of impulse control, I will say what comes to my mind without thinking of the implications of this action. So if I've ever said anything stupid or rude to you, I totally didn't mean it. This is also why when something funny comes to mind, no matter how inappropriate it is, I'll say it out loud. That's why I entertain you people so much. That's why you people get me at parties, not so much at work.

I don't have a filter!

Turns out, they make pills for that. I have been researching them for two days straight and I still cannot get on board with it. I understand the positives, but the negatives! I'm not sure it's a good trade.

I'm continuing to have the feeling that disorganziation and lack of focus and impulse control are actually not MY problem. Given free reign of my life, I find that I really don't mind it so much. For those of you who have a problem with me, I'm sorry if my behaviour affects you negatively. I certainly don't intend to be a burden on you-but I cannot compromise myself and take a pill for you, so that you'll feel better about me. I hope you understand that I will find a way to cope, and that I'm making it just fine in the world-even though no one actually reads my blog. That's probably a good thing right about now. If you are reading me, thank you, and welcome, and know that I'm not angry. In fact, I feel pretty good right about now.

I'm not at all hostile toward anyone. I really love people. Except teachers. They really don't get me. Wait, some of my dearest peeps are teachers. So just the ones who pass judgement on me. I don't like that.

So here's my decision, subject to change as soon as I post: meds are not for me. Thank you for reading.

Do not drive Rhino

2008-09-10T10:55:00.003-05:00

I am experiencing visual disturbances. I do this a lot, but sometimes it's funny. A few days ago I was driving to work, and saw a sign that said "Do not drive Rhino". I couldn't make sense of it in my head and so I turned and looked back. What I saw was a small sign that said "Do not drive on shoulder" and in the distance behind it a large sign advertising Rhino Linings, bed liners for the back of your truck. Somehow my brain put the two together.

Then yesterday we were at work watching TV during lunch. Rachel Ray was preparing something with raw hamburger but I really wasn't watching. We were all talking. As I turned and looked at my co-worker I saw her put a chunk of watermelon-exactly the same color as raw hamburger-in her mouth. My reaction was one of disgust and horror-for a second-until I realized what my brain had done.

That's just crazy.

Have you ever been eating breakfast with milk and orange juice, and while looking at the milk accidentally picked up the oj and drank it, and freaked out? Or is that just me?

Alone with my thoughts

2008-09-09T21:10:00.003-05:00

My thoughts are spaghetti. I'm not a waffle tonite. I never am, but tonite I feel particularly random. That's ok. I don't have to answer to anyone right now.

Today I began counseling-finally following up on my ADD diagnosis from five years ago. The diagnosis was a relief. Today, talking about it with an impartial someone who has knowledge of it, I feel mostly hopeful with a side order of apprehension. From the start I have been 100% against medication, opting for diet and behavior modification, but it doesn't seem to work. Now faced with a choice again, I'm waning. I wonder, what if I could be normal? And in the same thread, do I want to be?

All the what-ifs are there. What if I turn into a lethargic blob on the couch? What if I sleep all the time like my friend? What if I become this really fabulously organized but totally boring person? What if I lose the creativity, the zany humor, the easy laughter? Would that be a worse me, or even me at all? What if my writing suffered? What of passion and drive? What of adventure? Am I so tired of disorganization and lack of focus and motivation that I would compromise ME to have that?

My thoughts right now are that this is a Jekkyl and Hyde decision; the birth of one is the death of the other. I may be way off base about that. If I could keep both, I would be all for it. Mostly. The side effects seem minimal, but still frightening.

Logically, I have a biological problem that calls for medical intervention. Emotionally, I don't want to deal with this right now. Spiritually, if I am fearfully and wonderfully made, maybe there's a purpose in all of this and disorganization is my thorn. Wouldn't it be funny if we got to Heaven and asked Paul what the thorn in his flesh was, and we find out he actually had a thorn?

Dramatically, I am Batman standing above the city, (even though I'm a girl) and the wind is whipping my cape all around in the darkness. I am alone there with my tortured thoughts, glaring into the night. I want to give this all away and just be normal. But maybe the world needs my brand of hero. (This makes me feel good, and these are MY thoughts, as they occur to me. In my spaghetti.)

Humor is the easiest way to deal with this right now because even alone at the keyboard, I'm not as alone as I'll be when I go to bed in a moment and dissolve in a self-piteous flood of tears. There. That's the chink in my armor: a desperate longing just to feel like I'm not a failure as a woman and mom and wife; to be like the other women with their nicely decorated clean homes and who balance their checkbooks without throwing them across the room. That longing is warring with the strong opinion (opinions being a Chenoweth family birthright)that I'm pretty ok like I am, and my friends and family love me, my husband adores me, and the rest of the world can just go on tolerating me because I'm living life my way. (Cue music...)

But I hate the exasperated looks-from people who expect more of me, who don't get why I can't just pull it together and finish this task. I hate sensing that people are tolerating me, and after the antics aren't so funny anymore, I see their frustration or disappointment. I wonder, am I too old to have this crisis?

And I just keep hearing it in my head: fearfully and wonderfully made. He knew me. Long before I was knit together in the secret place. My name is tattooed on His hand. I wouldn't get a tattoo on my hand for just anyone. Neither would He. So I must be special.

Normal. Funny. Distinct and seperate, or can they cohabitate peacefully in the same body?

Wonderfully, even.

The Race

2008-08-28T09:15:00.002-05:00

Good days aren't just good days. They are incredible. I start the morning off with an "aha!" Word of God moment. I see something I haven't seen before. Or something old becomes new and relevant. I go into my day with a strength and resolve that just yesterday was more like exhaustion and resign. I get it today. I get that I didn't have to be perfect yesterday to accept the love of God today and to live it out as if I always have, in fullness of joy just like I was meant to. It feels good, and I want to share this love with the world! I want everyone to know the freeing, healing love of God!

And then, the voice.

Come on. Who are you fooling? What kind of witness are you? Just yesterday, you were a whole other person. Enjoy it while it lasts because it's temporary. The right temptation, the first sign of trouble, you'll be right back on board with me. Snub your nose at me, but you know it's true. That Cross has no power. You are who you are. Today, you are a fake. Tomorrow, you're mine.

I know it's true. I will be right back on the other side soon, messing up, failing, falling flat on my face and threatening to take the whole of the believing world with me. Only, it's not really like that at all. God's love and forgiveness are absolute. My Abba Father knows and understands my childishness, and while He expects me to love Him with everything I've got, He put a plan into place long before I ever was to help me to get back up and dust my knees off and join the race again.

I have a choice to make at every turn. I can obey my God, or I can get distracted by the unimportant things and eventually find myself upside down and off track, wondering how I got there. I praise God for the Cross, for the blood of His Son, my Saviour, who has His angels standing at the ready, and for the Holy Spirit who reminds me what choices to make-and for my Jesus who picks me up and dusts off my knees, who wipes away the blood and the tears, and holds me. Then He looks me in the face, and says, "Let's get back in there and finish this race."

I don't run the race because I fear death. Death has no power over me any longer, so I can run with boldness. I run for the love of my King! I run because I was created for that purpose! I run because I know He is running beside me, with His angels cheering in the stands, and God is at the finish line waiting for me to run into His arms!

Another bADD Day

2008-08-20T14:50:00.003-05:00

Most days I do ok. But there are days when I just can't focus, and I can sense that people who need me to perform are simply tolerating me. I am not the brilliant girl I was just days ago. This inconsistency is glaring. No one knows it more than me. Used to, I thought I was a failure. Now, I understand why I am the way I am. The problem is, others don't. They love the good days! They beam at me, and tell me how clever I am, and it's so hard for me to accept the compliment because I know that in a few days, given the same opportunity, I will disappoint. Try looking at someone and telling them "it's not really my fault, I'm just not in that mode right now." That's right-sometimes the sun goes behind a cloud. And sometimes it's night.

I'm so frustrated that I want to throw my hands up. Sometimes, the bADD days really get me down-especially during heat waves. I know I'm not the only person in the world who has this problem. I know you lose your keys every now and then. I know you forget appointments and phone numbers. That doesn't make you like me. That would be like telling someone with cancer that you get colds so you know how they feel. Not by a long shot. Good news, though! There's help! And for about $150 an hour, I can get that help!

I know that the bad days don't last forever. I think that if I could take the good days and figure out what triggers them, I could perform on demand like the rest of the responsible adult world-the ones who don't forget to pay a bill, who make their beds, who don't get bored while brushing their teeth. Who can write in and remember to check, their day planners for better than one day in a row.

Some people are sympathetic, but they still don't really understand my frustration. A lot of them will offer to pray with and for me, thinking that this is the answer. Well, I need that prayer, but I also need help from someone who has been there-from a knowledgeable person who gets it, and who has better advice than making lists or keeping a planner. Well meaning people say, "Oh, no caffeine for you!" while the professional take on it is, I cannot get enough. (How many of you take no-doze before bed, and rest?)

Being diagnosed with a neurological disorder is not the end of the world-in fact, it's the beginning of mine. The last five years have been a wonderful mix of discovery and renewal. When my counselor told me to "only use my powers for good," I knew that there was a big advantage to ADD. In fact, I am trying to discover the key to hyperfocus (I've been told that there isn't one-it's as fleeting as a comet). I have learned so much about tapping into my creative side, and seeking jobs where ADD is a positive trait (the arts and entertainment fields are wide open for my kind). Now if I could just get the rest of the normal-thinking world on board with me, I might have something!

Great Day

2007-08-21T18:34:00.001-05:00

There are good days, and there are great days. Yesterday was the latter. I'll just tell you about it...

I was asked a couple of months ago if I would sing at the Cowboy Hall of Fame. I didn't ask questions, I just said yes. I knew it wouldn't be just me, but out of my choir of 400 women, I thought there would be more than 20 of us. NOPE. I don't know what the selection process was. Out of 400 women, I'm certainly not in the top 20 most talented. Alphabetically, there are more that 20 women ahead of even my Czajkoski. Did they draw names? Couldn't be. I never win stuff. So who knows? God just wanted to surprise me with a really amazing once in a lifetime experience.

I arrived at the time and place I was supposed to. There were a few people at the cash bar, but not very many. Most everyone was in formal attire. My uniform for this group is black dress and jacket, so I noticed that I fit in. I wandered around until I found the banquet hall with 20 other women dressed exactly like me, and was shocked to see that this was no small gathering...there were about 3000 chairs around the white-linen draped tables. There was a formal waitstaff placing salads and desserts on the tables, and lots of Chardonnay and Cabernet. Although I don't drink, it felt very sophisticated and important. So I asked our director what was this? (I'm quite the cracker) and he said that it was the Oklahoma Sports Hall of Fame induction ceremony, or the Jim Thorpe awards. My eyes glazed over...stars were shooting out my ears, and I thought, every guy I know will be SO jealous!!!!

It was a type of heaven for me. I love sports, and knew that this was an honor like few I'll ever have. I found out that this was a $150 a plate shindig, which is a lot for a cracker. I mean, I'm the cracker. For $150 we didn't get crackers. We got rolls. You don't choose between steak and chicken at these affairs...you get both. Well, anyway, we warmed up our voices and did mic checks, and then were seated at the back (we were guests, not patrons, after all) and then the people watching began.

There were many older men between 6 and 7 feet tall, and as it turned out they were former inductees. I knew the names, but the faces were older than you see in their pictures. Former OSU b-ball coach Eddie Sutton walked in. The Mayor (voted best dressed by GQ or Esquire or something), the Governor, the Lieut. Gov., a state Senator, many sports writers, newscasters, and such filed in. Beautiful people (whom I don't really like, but that's judgemental of me) were everywhere, none of whom were getting awards because beauty is apparently its own reward. Then these old men came, who turned out to be the Frederick, Oklahoma Bombers High School football team of 1956-the first integrated football team in Oklahoma, 10 years before integration was required. They were really enjoying getting together again!

Two inductees were there-B-baller Jim Shipp (what a story!!) and golfer Doug Tewell (a man for whom I have a great deal of respect). The third, Waddy Young, had been shot down in war years ago, but had fam there to accept. I had so much fun watching them, and staring at the people. I sat a few tables over from Jim Thorpe's granddaughter (WOW!) and was in direct eye contact with Bob Barry, Jr. So cool.

We sang about half way through. We sang America, The Beautiful and The Salute to the Armed Forces, and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. We had the best standing ovation ever. We don't often get the opportunity to sing in secular venues in our state, so it was really special to me. Our choir travels all over the world, and then we get an opportunity to serve and to sing in large concert halls. The last concert was in Romania and Hungary. The men have been to Australia where they sang as a group in the Sydney Opera House, and in small groups in tiny areas all over Australia. They have been to Brazil, China, Russia...many places. But I digress.

The whole program was about 4 hours long. It seemed like mere minutes. I got some souvenirs (not the alcohol...) and had the most wonderful dinner, good conversation with sports figures, and not one single photo. If only I had known!!!!! Oh, well. It was a night I will not soon forget.

As I walked out in the parking lot, a familiar voice called out to me. "You ladies sang WONDERFULLY!!!!" I turned in awe. I already knew sho it was...it was the voice of an angel-the voice of Your OOOOKlahoma Sooners, BOB BARRY!!!! And he was talking to ME!!! I turned to him, and yelled back thanks, and he said, "I'm an old Air Force boy, you know!" So I thanked him again, and yelled something stupid because clever travels out of the mouth so much slower. I watched him get into his car, and we smiled, and I walked away.

Wow. What a special night I had. I wish Brian Bosworth and Barry Switzer were there. I guess you can't have everything...but it was close.

Getting Over It

2007-08-18T00:05:00.000-05:00

I have mad days, and I'll lash out at things, people. And after I have a moment to think about it, I realize I'm soothing a tender spot on my soul.

You know that feeling, that God is speaking in that small voice, so you yell a little to drown it out? Maybe it's that. I know I want to go, I know I want to teach. I wonder, though, how to do it. I want to find that obedience in me, and I guess I mistakenly expect my church to magically bestow it on me. The thing is, our churches aren't there for any other reason than to corporately praise God, taking time out of our busy week to worship Him, and then to equip ourselves and each other to go out that week and reach others. But we find ourselves unwilling to bring people with real problems into our self-serving churches. I don't think our churches mean to be self-serving. I think they are full of people who love the Lord. Our love just gets selfish. We will go and reach out, but only if those we reach are actually deemed by us to be worthy of our love and charity. Do they have the potential to become contributing members, or will they be leeches, sucking away at our resources, just to move on? Is my ability to reach out and love people that greedy? Apparently. I have long lost the ability to love, expecting nothing in return, as if by loving someone unlovale I fear encouraging their bad behavior.

God said love. He meant love. I must follow His lead, because He loved me, the most unlovely of all. Of all the ones He could have invested His life in, I probably have the least potential for great return. And yet He not only loves me, but FIERCELY pursues me.

If I say I have love, but hate my brother, I lie, and there is no truth in me.

I will let go of my self-serving disgust with everyone who isn't enabling my agenda, and I will get over it, and get on with the work I'm supposed to do. Whatever, today, that may be.

Good Read

2007-08-04T16:41:00.000-05:00

I am almost finished with a book that I started on Monday. If I had more time, I'd have finished Tuesday. It's called "Searching For God Knows What" by this guy named Donald Miller. I'm having trouble putting my finger on my feelings. I don't want this to be one of those situations where, I'm mad at the way things are going in my church so I'll subscribe to anything that's anti-what-my-church-does, but I have to admit it has me reeling.

I feel like we've lost it. We're repeating the sins of the Sanhedrin and expecting God to work within all of the legal boundaries we've set for Him. We see the crazy list of rules the Jews came up with in the early church, and then God shows up and they want to tell Him He's doing it wrong. But we do the same. We're waiting for Him to free us of the world we live in, but we don't want to be obedient and do what He sent us to do. We want to condemn sin and cry foul and blame it on contemporary music and homosexuals and insist we can't have church in chairs, we need proper pews, and if we don't have three hymns and a sermon with three points, and an offertory, then we haven't worshipped. (Don't get me wrong, I love hymns, and I think you can crank some real emotion out of the more somber ones...)

Have you ever been so excited about something that you couldn't raise your voice enough to cheer like you really really wanted to? Like a goal line stand in a crucial football game, or a 90 yard touchdown against Texas? Have you ever shown that kind of excitement in church? Yeah, me neither.

I cannot put enough emphasis to show the emotion I feel behind these words: WHY NOT????!!!! Where is the passion? Where is the intensity? Don't give me that crap about how sometimes God just speaks in a quiet voice...I already know that. But sometimes He doesn't. Sometimes He's in the thunder. Sometimes a flaming bush. I feel intensity in my marriage, and certainly a passionate love for my kids. Have I failed in not showing God that kind of love? Doesn't He deserve a last-second national championship touchdown kind of love? How much would it suck if, on a beach, one lover raced across the sand to the other, while the other just stood there waiting?

You think I'm confusing sensational excitement with love. No, I'm not. I am comfortable in the Abba Father warm affectionate love. But sometimes I feel like I just want to express myself louder, as one victim of The Fall who occasionally feels really excited about the fact that I've been saved from paying for it. I fear I have been holding back, not accepting the fact that God is PURSUING me and wants a relationship with me. One of the points of this book is that God doesn't act within formulas, but more in a relational way. Take a marriage for instance: signing a piece of paper and going thru some steps will make you legally married. But some things have got to change about my singleness if I want that marriage to work. It's not like signing an insurance form and then driving like I want. It's about focusing on the marriage and working at it. Giving myself up daily and enjoying the love of my husband. Working out my salvation.

Yes, I'm familiar with grace. That doesn't give me permission to "not worry about screwing up." Paul said that we don't test grace and use it frequently because it's there. Instead we try, we make an effort to love Him back. All He asks is our obedience, and He desires our love. Like we hope that some day, our kids who require our love will one day return it, free of selfish need. ( I don't care what you think...your kids have to learn to love you apart from just being a parent, and it means more that way...) When did you realize, if you have by now, that you would love your parents if they weren't your parents??

So this is how I "stew". My whole outlook may change tomorrow, and I may find peace. But I hope that soon I understand how to wrap my brain around how much God loves me. I don't have to understand it, I know. I just want Him to know that sometimes my heart is full of love for Him, and I feel helpless to express it, and wish that I would do what I know He wants me to do: to free that love up for someone who needs it.

Sigh. This is why people with ADD take Ritalin.

My doc said I didn't have to....

Serving the world on and off for...a few minutes now...

2007-07-08T21:48:00.001-05:00

I'm back!!

I need an outlet. When I write to my friends, I write with a message in mind. But I need a journal, a place where I can get what's happening in my head out onto a tangible plane. That makes no sense, I know. But being clear to YOU is not going to be my goal today. Today it's going to be a little closer to free flow. What's that called? I don't know. Flight of thought or something. Mental diarrhea. Yes, that's spelled right.

Today I know that God has a plan for my life. But lately I'm so discouraged. I'm afraid I took the liberty to envision what God was going to do, and then sort of started "taking necessary steps" to make said dream come true. Here's the rub: (a phrase I'm so sick of...) I'm doing it by myself with little or no results, getting frustrated, and wondering what's taking God so long. Wait, it gets worse. I know that I am leaving God out, promising to make time, and then I just can't get it together to let Him take control. Too busy.

God wants some ME time. He doesn't want it for Himself, He wants it for me. He doesn't NEED me. He knows that I need Him, and He loves me so much that He keeps trying to impress on me that I can't do this alone. God says, "Look what I can do for you," and like Peter, I look down at my feet. Ever get that sinking feeling...yeah, me too.

My brain is noisy. Why won't it be still? Why can't I stop long enough to dwell on God, to seek out His goodness and who He is? I recently read something that asked if I had faith in God because of what He's done, or Who He Is? And only now am I seeing that when God is silent, I lose faith. I want only to be faithful, and I'm seeing how weak I really am. God doesn't need my agenda. He's sick of my arrogant self-sufficiency, and my pride is just getting in the way of seeing Him in everthing, every day.

He's silent because He wants me to seek, and to ask, and knock, and know. And I can't sit still long enough to let that happen. My heart is deceitful. While I know that it lies to me, I also know in my head that God is faithful and true, that He is there, and it would be so much nicer if I came along willingly as He is accomplishing His purpose in me.

My head is cluttered with the things that I can't fix. My church and my world aren't perfect. So what? Am I going to try to fix them anyway, or am I going to start praising God out loud, not caring if anyone follows my example? I need for a revival to take place in my heart. I need a renewed passion and zeal, and I need to get out there and start doing the work that I feel that we need to be doing.

I'm so convicted because one of my daughter's friends, about 20 years old, struck out on her own and went to Cambodia to serve in an orphanage. I'm a little envious. She had some valuable things stolen, but when we talk about it, I can almost see it in her eyes-"don't dwell on that. Those are just things. Ask me about how I spoke of God to people who didn't understand English. Ask about the work I did while I was there. Ask me about my passion for sharing the Lord in a real and needed way." I want to go, too. I want to stand on foreign soil and try to muddle my way thru a foreign language, and see a tiny spark in someone's eye. And then I want to come back saying I was far more blessed by God's work that they.

I think I do, anyway.

A friend of mine is teaching me spanish. I can tell you to shut up, and I can tell you when it's time to go. I can tell you if you're bleeding and ask you how many beers you've had. That should bring people to God.

Enough mental diarrhea.

It's been how long?

2006-07-18T10:04:00.000-05:00

It's been awhile, I guess. I don't have anything to post, really. I'm just shocked it's been this long. All's well on the home front. I'm teaching a class on Sunday Nights on Extreme Makeover:Heart Edition. It's fun. I may be thinking about considering teaching college and career for awhile. We have a need there. I am going to speak at a women's conference in the fall...that's all I got. I wish I had more opportunity to speak and teach, and I wish I could do it full time. This nursing thing is for the birds. I gotta write a book and somehow fund my true love-teaching and more writing. Derek said if I'd become a millionaire, he'd be my wife. I can't think of anything I need more.

All Better Now

2006-05-20T10:50:00.001-05:00

Wow. I hate being mad. I don't like who I become. I don't know how I fly past righteous anger about something done wrong into self-righteous anger where I'm determined to stew in my own juices. Maybe just the idea of being right, I don't know. So how do I get thru a crisis without letting the redhead free? I wish I had that answer. I know the Bible says that a soft answer turns away wrath, but I WANTED wrath. I halfway wished that he would have thrown some verbal punches and we could just have it all out right there, and in the end he would change from a pitiful, neglectful absentee father into a responsible, respectable man willing to make up for the years of emotional abuse and neglect and bla, bla, bla.

Maybe that's my motivation. To fix something that is so far out of my control that it would be a miracle if I pulled it off. I. Me. So arrogant. When do I drop it and walk away, and let God heal my hurts and the hurts of my kids, and why does this sort of emotion show up when I think everything is fine? I have a wonderful marriage. My husband is loving, faithful, fun, and outdoorsy. He loves God and wants his family to do the same. We worship together. So why would a mistake of my youth come back in my adulthood to haunt me? Because, this is the natural effects of sin and poor choices and a desire to be the "commander of my own life."

God lovingly warns us of making bad decisions not based on His will for our lives. There are consequences. Not punishments, but natural cause and effect type stuff. So am I forgiven of my past? Of course. I've offered it up to God and come to terms with it, and have patiently trained my kids to look to Him for answers. But our world's present circumstances are the way they are because of the poor choices Father Abe made thousands of years ago. And further back to Adam. Our sin effects are far-reaching, and even when a loving God forgives, we have to deal with what we ourselves set into motion.

Do I feel guilt and shame for this? No, I finally dealt with that head on a couple years ago. That's why I'm able to freely talk about a crisis pregnancy and badly failed marriage of my youth. I hope someone is able to learn from my mistakes. But until I lay down my anger it will come back and bite me frequently. I've learned that our only motivation for holding onto anger is to use it against the offender as revenge. So my forgiveness in incomplete. Which makes it not forgiveness at all.

What's my next step? Put away my anger. Let it go. Truly forgive. In the meantime, protect my children's hearts and minds and teach them the right way, so that I'm not instilling in them a cycle of self-righteous anger. As long as teach them that it's ok to be mad, they'll carry that with them. Then it's my fault they don't heal, not his. No matter how badly he behaves.

So thank you for sticking with me this far. The redhead is under control. For now.

Rage, unfiltered

2006-05-16T16:58:00.000-05:00

Last night, my children's dad, my ex-husband, called to wish our son a happy birthday.

IT'S NOWHERE CLOSE TO HIS BIRTHDAY.

You want to find out how strong a woman is, take a threatening step toward her child.

I can tell you that if I would have been in physical proximity to him last night, I could have done some damage. My rage was so intense that when I picked up the phone to call him, my own husband, whom I love, vacated the area. Unfortunately, he answered on the first ring, and what happened next is shameful. I used words like "hate", and I told him he was worthless. I may have asked if he was on satan's advisory panel. It got uglier, to the point that I was "shouting in whispers" so the kids wouldn't hear me. I dissolved into bitter, angry tears. What scares me most is my TOTAL LACK OF DESIRE TO LET GO OF THIS HATE. Why do I cling to this emotion? Is it an emotion, or a symptom of something deeper?

I'm sorry if you're reading this now. I'd like to be able to come up with a spiritual point, but the truth is, I need to sift thru my feelings right now, to get them out while they're fresh. I sort of thought the fire would die down when I woke today, when it was light. Maybe a Jekel and Hyde thing. If anything, I feel more determined to hang on to the adrenaline and intesity. I feel like I need a physical outlet. It used to be a batting cage. Now I almost feel like I could hit one out of Fenway park.

Hatred is ugly. I'm ashamed that I don't want to let it go. I would rather it smolder awhile. Almost like if I let it go I've been disloyal to my kids. I don't know. I'm going to go simmer. This time next week I hope to feel better.

Crossroads

2006-05-12T21:23:00.000-05:00

What gives? Can I not learn humility some other way than thru my car?

I finally get a great little sports car. Not just once, but twice I get hit. One a hit and run in the night and one a woman in a mini van with no insurance. Then I finish it off myself, narrowly escaping death(let me be a little indulgent, ok?). Well, I bought my parent's crappy car. CRAPPY. Yes, I know. Jonah under the tree whining. Whatever. It's my blog, leave me alone. I'm aware I should be grateful. About a month after I buy it the exhaust system gets a...noise. Not just a little noise, but people on Harleys telling me to keep it down. Jetplane pilots giving me dirty looks. THEN I'm at a special event in my life with strangers and as I opened the car door to leave...the door handle flies off. That's not all. Then I'm getting in the back seat to open my front door, like a week later, and that handle falls off. And I can't seem to open the trunk now. COME ON!!!!

All I want is a pretty car. Why? Why not? They're pretty. At least if it's beat up I want one with character, like an old Jeep Wagoneer with wood panels, or a VW Van.

To tell you the truth at this point in my life I could very easily take all I have and give it to the poor.

And just maybe that's the point.

Never a lost cause

2006-04-25T15:43:00.000-05:00

There are many days when I think, that's it. My shooting star has burned out, and my nursing career is over. Burn out is a big problem in the health industry with the nursing shortage. It gets exhausting taking care of all of those patients alone, wishing you had a way out, a break, a respite from it all. I labour in vain, I sometimes think. I see all of these people come in, but many never leave alive. I see them get worse instead of better despite our best efforts, and it gets frustrating. It just gets old. I know that this is what happens when you have a very sick person come in. They aren't all older people. They are sometimes young. My age.

Then I think of the crazy Scottish patient we had who came in kicking and screaming. She was anxious, combative, pulling out every line we put into her, over and over again. She was confused-a true psych patient-with whom I have no training. She wore me out. When we signed in each morning, we'd groan if we were assigned to her. She was a full days work all on her own. But today she left. She walked out on her own power (after the wheel chair ride) and went to a place where she'd continue more intensive rehab. And I was sad, as I rarely ever am with patients. Amazing, I thought, that a few weeks ago she was a total drain, and now had become a complete joy. She was getting better. She was alert, motivated, and full of hope for a new tomorrow. I had grown to love her. When I pulled her old restraints out of the dresser and ceremoniously threw them out, I asked her if she wanted to take them with, just in case. "You take 'em home," she said, "and see how much fun they are." Um...thanks...but...no.

And now her room is silent. Not silent with death. But a quiet hope that she'd be better and home again soon. Her call light isn't going to buzz any longer. What did I gain from her? A reminder not to give up on people, even if theirs seems a lost cause.

I must look like a lost cause. Jesus didn't think so, even though the world would give up on me. He believed that so much that He died for me. To date, He is the only One to ever do that. I don't expect any more takers before my death or rapture. Did Jesus ever want to give up? No. It says in the Bible that He got tired, and He went away to rest. But when He got to where He was going, the crowd intercepted Him, crying "Feed me! Minister to my needs!" And you know what? He did. He loved them, even though He was mourning the loss of John and was looking closely into the face of death Himself. How can I strive to be more like Him? How can I be faithful in my frustration and weariness?

I can't. But I can give it to Him. He is my refuge, my rest. My respite. My Redeemer.

Date of rememberance

2006-04-18T10:11:00.000-05:00

I said I could pinpoint an exact date that God began dealing with me in regards to the television. I found the date(s). One day was on January 18 between 10:15 and 11:00am. So it only took me 4 months to obey. It took Abe way longer, so I don't feel as guilty as I once did. Although for those of you who care I know I'm not suppopsed to measure myself against Abe. Only Jesus. But last night came the first test. Night one without satellite or network television. I pouted. I told Derek I was like Jonah, crawling under the fig tree and pouting, and I just needed time to grieve. It's a process. Derek pointed out that Jonah didn't crawl under a fig tree, he built himself a shelter, and then God grew a vine to comfort him, and then sent a worm to eat it. Whatever. Let me grieve without the criticism.

Wow. What would it be like if I had to lay down something big? What if God called me to sacrifice my kid like He did Abraham? Would I go willingly, knowing that God doesn't require human sacrifice, and that He is faithful to protect and provide? I don't know. The t.v. seems so trivial. Yet here I am, two blogs in one week.

I wasn't doing anything else.

I cast down my Idols. It was harder than I thought...

2006-04-17T14:37:00.000-05:00

God deals with us in different ways. Sometimes so audibly you would dare to believe He actually spoke. And didn't He? Such was the case several weeks ago (I can actually pinpoint this in notes, but my notes aren't on me...) I was doing a Bible study on Abraham and Isaac, and God began to impress on me that I had things in my life that I put before Him. How ironic that my particular idol was...Idol. American Idol to be precise. I'm ashamed that it took me so long to obey and turn off my tv, which I knew was exactly what I was supposed to do. It wasn't a question, it wasn't a guilt feeling or a thought that I needed to just "get away" from the tv awhile. I felt like that would be taking the golden calf in my life and throwing a prayer cloth over its head, or turning it towards the wall.

For all you Idol watchers, I don't think you need to turn off your tv. I don't think that anything is "bad" about American Idol. In fact, it's pretty wholesome, which is unusual on tv these days. But an idol doesn't have to be bad or evil in its nature to become a bad thing in our lives. When God impresses on our hearts to stop something, whether it's good or bad, we shouldn't question, but obey.

I'm a little slow, but several weeks later I did it. It was so difficult. First of all, just try to cut off your satellite or cable service. They have so many enticing deals that would make it easy to justify keeping "partial service", telling you how much cheaper it will be if you should decide to turn it back on. ETC. After all I have been a valuable customer for...much too long. Plus the emotional drain of turning it off...I will miss it, truly. I still have network television and that's ok, but I turned off the portion of it that was draining my time and taking my focus off of Christ.

I want Elliott Yamin to win American Idol. But he'll have to do it without me. (I wasn't actually voting...) Maybe someday I'll own his CDs. Even the whole boxed set. But until then, I know where I have to turn my eyes and my heart, and I know that God will bless even my smallest efforts.

God, I cast down my smallest idols. Amen.

So close!

2006-03-07T18:45:00.000-06:00

It almost happened. I look back at the split second where a silly mistake could have turned into humiliation infamy, and I smile. It was a near miss.

I am a lip balm addict and usually carry it around in my pocket, frequently pulling it out and slicking it on, and going about my day. I was very tired (as usual) today at work, and for whatever reason I switched the lip gloss in my right pocket with the little tiny permanent marker in my left. You can see it coming...I reached into my pocket and pulled off the cap, and moments before adding a permanent lip line, I caught myself.

It wouldn't have made my entire lips purple. I would have figured it out after one short "line", but still, to have to walk around with a small dark purple lip line or swollen red lips from trying to scrub off the mark, I would have been embarrassed either way!

In our sin lives we sometimes bear the dark marks of sin. Maybe just a small mark, but a mark all the same. What we do with that mark is even more important. Do we try to cover it up ourselves, leaving behind further evidence of the spot we bore, or do we take it up with the Father who cleanses the darkest, ugliest marks, making them invisible? I know what my first instinct is...try and hide it myself! But I usually just make it worse.

Today, make an effort to carry your problems to Jesus. The dark marks, the hint of filth, the sadness, the hurt and the shame, and let Him take care of it. And if you have already tried to remove it yourself...He takes care of those spots, too!

CATapult

2006-03-02T16:19:00.000-06:00

More proof...cats are dumb. Didn't take us long to convince Bo to let the kids splat him on the wall.

Poor guy. He chases mice, but now he doesn't catch them. But he stays off the furniture!

Turns out, I'm NOT crazy!

2006-02-18T22:05:00.000-06:00

I work in an ICU that happens to be a floor above a psych hospital. A whole floor of crazy. So I hear everyone say "Better be careful, they may not let you out!" Of course, I have to go thru the first floor to get to the parking lot from the second floor, so it seemed plausible that some day, it just might happen.

Apparently, I am not mental health material. (I must not have any mental health...). Here's my story: I'm on #15 1/2 of a 16 hour shift. 12 ounces of caffeine would do me good right about now, I thought. Someone told me that the first floor vending machine is colder than the second floor vending machine, so I decided to check that out. And I decided to take a route I'd never taken before in my life. Cause I'm adventurous. And stupid. But apparently not crazy. I found the stairwell, and I went down the stairs knowing that once you're in you can't get back out, except on ground level. It's a chance I needed to take for a really cold can of DP.

As I exited the stairwell, I found myself in an alcove between said stairwell which is now locked, a glass door that leads outside, and a locked door that leads to the mental health unit. It was glass, and inside about 25 yards away sat psych nurses (a rare bunch) who thought I was a ghost. That's all I can come up with, because they just stopped and looked at me, all deer-in-the-headlights-like. I thought, maybe I'm not moving enough, so I started waving them toward me, and still they sat and stared. So I made bigger motions, and finally one of them headed my way. Verrryyy slllloooowwwly. When she got within hearing distance, I told her my name and where I was coming from. She tried, to her credit, (the only credit she gets) to let me in, but the door was locked. "Go outside to the north door, and I'll let you in there." Which seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, it had gotten up to 20 degrees! The wind was 10mph out of the north. I could handle the quick 30 yard jog. So outside I went, where I was struck by a biting wind, and hustled myself to the north door. There they all sat, at the nurse's station, heads down, not looking at me. Not coming to let me in. I waved. I jumped. After a minute I started pounding and kicking the doors. Nothing. They were ignoring me. And it was cold.

I took off to the front of the building, realizing my name tag was upstairs with my keys and any form of contact with the hospital. I tried to think of survival tactics. I looked for shelter. I was wearing scrubs. A very thin layer of cotton protected me from the elements. Could I fashion a lean-to out of...what? Rose bushes?? My mind began to numb. I knew my fingers were going to fall off soon. If I could only see my kids...one...more...time.....

Dramatic, I know. You will be relieved to know that I found security. It took some serious talking thru really blue lips, but I was able to convince him to let me in the hospital. The really cold cola no longer sounded like a good idea, and I opted for coffee instead.

Joshua 1:9 says "Have I not told you? Do not be anxious or afraid, for wherever you are, so will I be." Christ assures us that we go into no trial, no matter how serious or silly, alone. He protects us, guides and keeps us. Even when we do things that aren't smart, He doesn't shrug His Holy shoulders and cross His mighty arms and refuse to help. His grace and mercy wrap around us and comfort us, and lift us back up, healing, warming, and bringing peace and restoring joy.

So for those of you who ever wondered, I may be stupid, but even I can't get into a psych ward. Now that that's settled...I'm going HOME!!

I got nothing to say, but...

2006-02-06T11:03:00.000-06:00

"Worship Style" is an oxymoron

2006-01-26T08:13:00.000-06:00

I would love it if for once our service would run two hours over because we were bursting at the seams with love and praise for our God. Not so this time. We did run over two hours, but it was because the pastor uttered the words "contemporary services" and asked for opinions at the tail end of the business meeting. Never will you see passions ignite like they do in a Southern Baptist church where music style is involved. It's sad, really.

When did worship become about us and what we like? Why did we put God in a box and decide when and where we were able to worship? We say that we go to church to learn about God and praise Him. We are so concerned about packaging our religion to make it more attractive to a newer generation that "just isn't being reached by our old methods" that we don't realize He's attractive all by Himself without our help! If we have certain "worship methods" then we are so far off base. Can we, just for a second, admit that we've come to be entertained? Can we admit that our entire Sunday morning is spent concerning what we enjoy, and that if it goes beyond our particular tastes, then we call it "noise", or if we aren't getting the newest and best most popular music, then we say that it's tired and overdone?

In Genesis, Abraham was sitting at his tent when he had unexpected visitors. The Lord and two angels showed up. Actually, they just appeared. Abe got excited, since he's spent time with the Lord and recognized Him, and he and Sarai prepared dinner for the guests. They didn't microwave lasagna or throw burgers on the grill. In fact, he told Sarai to "hurry up! Get some flour and make bread!" and then had a calf killed and prepared. Abe apparently expected the Lord to hang out for awhile! Anyway, when it was all said and done, Abe had fed the Lord veal and fresh, homemade bread, and who knows how many varieties of fresh veggies from the garden. And then they discussed the issue at hand.

My point is this: Abe spent much time in prayer before God appeared in human form to him. When God showed up, Abe knew who He was, even in bodily form. I learned this week that it's called a "Theophany," or a physical pre-appearance of the Lord before His birth in the New Testament. Abe recognized God, and he rushed to create an atmosphere that was conducive to their meeting. Do we eagerly prepare an atmosphere of worship on Sundays, our appointed time for corporate worship? Or more importantly, did we do so before showing up at church that day? Do we spend time in private worship with God, so that when He shows up, we recognize Him? Can we, in fact, worship (WORSHIP!!!) when God reveals Himself in unexpected places? Or would we rather race to put on the right outfit, arrive at church annoyed and breathless, and then let everyone know that "we just didn't worship with that kind of music."

I'm so sick to death of hearing "worship style" from people who think that we are there to put on a show. If we are coming to church on Sunday mornings to win the lost, we are going for the wrong reasons. Yes, you heard me right. If you think I'm wrong, then research a little and find out why we are commanded to assemble together. It's to worship the Lord, to gain strength for the week ahead in order to be able to fight the good fight and share Christ with others. If we come for any other reason we are wasting God's time. Of course people can be saved on Sunday in our churches! If they come on a Sunday morning and see us truly worship, then it's up to God to change them! But if we are so arrogant as to say that WE need to create an atmosphere that will attract the lost, and WE need to make God look better to the world, and WE need to affect change in the hearts of people who don't know Him, WE are missing the boat, big time. God doesn't need our earthly makeover. We can't liposuction the unattractive parts of His word, tighten up loose skin, and highlight the good parts. We've only succeeded in presenting God as an all-accepting lovable hippie who just wants to love us all. So what's the point of trying then, if He just loves us all unconditionally? What of the God of Justice who HATES sin and will destroy it? What of the God our Creator who demands that we approach Him on our faces, as Holy and right?

How flippantly we walk into His house, and call it "our church" as if we have some sort of seniority there. How arrogantly we try to manipulate Him and present Him in a more attractive light. How phariseical we proclaim the "right way" of worship as in according to our particular mood that day, while calling someone else wrong. We will stand before Him one day. We will be forced to our knees in holy reverence. We will never ever approach Him casually. He is God. He Is.

This week, tithe 10% of your time to God in order to get to know Him. (2.4 hours a day...) Know what He looks like, and Sunday show up to praise Him. When we all get this right, it won't matter if they play Skynard or Bach or no music at all. We will know Him, and He will come to us in order to bring us a message. And then (and ONLY then) will we WORSHIP.

Worship is like water on the seed of our hearts. It causes it to blossom until all around can see its beauty and long to experience its pleasing aroma.

More Like Him

2006-01-14T15:17:00.000-06:00

As big a fuss as I made over waiting for autumn, football, and winter, I can't believe it's over. This has been the longest season ever, and I'm just glad it's over. I was busier than I ever remember being. My husband and I hardly saw each other. We worked, were in different programs, running the kids all over...it was crazy. January brings with it a kind of post football season depression. February brings on the serious depression because it's totally post season (I'm not a big pro fan, but I love the Super Bowl.)

Now what? New Year's Resolutions? I don't have that sort of attention span. I resolve something new every day. I have been in my Bible more this last week than usual. I'm studying Old Testament, particularly Genesis and presently Father Abraham. I'm inspired by the promises God made to Abraham, and how against all logic and odds, He fulfilled Abraham's deepest desire for a son of his own, even in his old age when his body was "as good as dead". I'm encouraged by the fact that God made promises to Abraham, and that God makes promises to us today and always keeps His promises, regardless of our failures and feeble attemts at doing right. I also am encouraged that when God says to be righteous and perfect, He is talking about the act of striving to be more like Him. I'm not righteous. I'm not even sorta good. I'm perfect, though, in that God is Righteousness in and thru me, even when I fall. I have perfected the falling routine!

When you have an impossible dream, be INTENTIONAL in pursuing God's will for your life. God gave us dreams and desires for a reason. They point us in the general area we're supposed to go, assuming that we are focused on Him and our desires serve to advance the Kingdom. By the way, God's Kingdom will be, with or without me. But my obedience draws me closer in my relationship to Him and as I am faithful, more of His will is revealed, and I find true joy in being like Him. God doesn't want or need me to like Him more. He wants me to be more like Him.

Our Focus

2005-12-24T10:24:00.000-06:00

People tease me a lot for my difficulty in focusing. Whether it be on the conversation, planning something, organizing...I just don't have that focus trait that some people have. Then I fly into this thing called "HYPER FOCUS" where I'm completely and totally fixated on one thing. This is what many people call "tunnel vision" and it doesn't happen often. The good thing about hyper focus is that it served me well in trauma, and does today in the ICU when I have medical emergencies. It also is a great thing to have when I'm writing, as it keeps me on task. I don't get hyper focus in matters of the home, except maybe once or twice a year. The result is my house gets cleaned (more so than the usual laundry and vaccuum) and you may find me two days later exhausted and covered in dust from the vents or the attic. Not kidding. I clean the heck out of the place. And heck really builds up after a few months, let me tell you.

This is really not getting me to my subject, which is another hallmark sign of ADD, so I will just get to it and not bother with trying to sound poetic or finding the right segue. My subject, is of course, our focus. Mine. Ours. Yours. Where is it this Christmas? Is it on musicals and presentations, concerts and plays? If they center on Christ, that's a fine thing to be sure, but what of the Christ? Is it easy to give Him honour and glory and praise when we are focused on performance? Of course, Christ expects our best. I truly want to sing my best for Him. But does it sap my energy, and take away from the wonderful, solemn moments I spend with Him in quiet awe, in study, in prayer? The sad fact is, it does. An old song, "I Miss My Time With You" has these lyrics: "I miss my time with you / those moments together / I need to be with you each day / and it hurts to hear you say / you're too busy / busy trying to serve Me / but how can you serve me / when your spirit's empty?"

Sometimes we're so busy "being about our Father's business" that we don't take the time to find out exactly what it is He wants us to do. Do we spend time with Him, recognizing Him as our King? Do we spend private, personal time with Him? It isn't enough to show up at His house on Sundays and Wednesdays and do "the church thing". It isn't enough to "do good and charitable things" in the name of God. If you think so, try spending twice a week with you spouse, and make an occasional gesture in your spouse's honour, and see how that flies. This will not a marriage make. How much more so should we spend quiet, private, personal time with Him who loves us more that anything, looking into His face, praising Him, dancing with Him?

This Christmas is a time we have set aside for the purpose of honouring Christ and His gift to us. Besides the gift of His birth and death on the cross for our salvation, is the gift of Loved Ones. He loves for us to take pleasure in the things, and the relationships He blesses us with! It's our responsibility to love each other, which after love for God is the greatest command.

2000 years ago, Our Saviour left His Kingdom to live on this pile of rubbish called earth, to save filthy ignorant sinners and take us home with Him some day. He wasn't recognized as Saviour. He wasn't recognized as King. He wasn't even recognized by His own people. Make it your soul purpose to get to know Our Lord in a personal way, so when He comes again...you'll know His voice!

The Broken Cookies

2005-12-16T22:37:00.000-06:00

I spent much of the afternoon and this evening baking cookies. Every once in a great while, I just get a bug of some sort, and I want to bake. And bake I did. I made about 3 dozen peanut butter cookies, about 2 dozen no-bake (I guess I no-baked, too) and about 3 1/2 dozen Mocha Crinkles. I love to do that. I especially love mocha crinkles because not only are they yummy, they're just so darn cute! I'll add the recipe if you'd like-they're so easy! My husband came home late after running errands with our friend and minister to youth, Mark. The kids were with me, but they were getting ready to go see a movie with friends. So I listened to Christmas music on the satellite and had coffee. It was nice and peaceful, considering the normal chaos of Christmas.

Ashton and Brett came in while I was cooking and licked the bowls, and they wanted to sample the cookies. I told them to eat the ugly ones so that the ones that turned out pretty could be used in gift bags for friends, and for a Christmas Cookie exchange I'm going to on Sunday. They didn't complain. But now that they're at the movies and I long for family time, I wonder, why do we save all the best for people outside of our homes, and give our families what's left? I know my kids don't care if their cookies are shaped funny, or don't have enough powdered sugar. They taste the same, and they get to lick bowls and forks and beaters. (I sometimes even turn off the mixer first!)

I know that my family is a wonderful gift from God. I am glad that they are patient with me and don't worry too much when I give them my seconds. But I resolve to be a better wife and mom and from now on, I'll go to as much trouble making them pretty things-special things.

I'll just eat all of the broken ones myself.

Mocha Crinkles
1/12 c. firmly packed light brown sugar
1/2 c. vegetable oil
1/4 c. sour cream
1 egg
1 t. vanilla
1 3/4 c. all-purpose flour
3/4 c. unsweetened cocoa powder
2 t. instant espresso or coffee granules
1t. baking soda
1/4 t. salt
1/8 t. ground black pepper
1/2 c. powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 350. Beat brown sugar and oil in a medium bowl with electric mixer. Mix in sour cream, egg, and vanilla. Set aside. In another medium bowl mix flour, cocoa, espresso, baking soda, salt and pepper. Add the two mixes together and mix well. Refrigerate dough for 3-4 hours or until firm. Pour powdered sugar into small bowl. Set aside. Cut dough into little pieces (about 1") and roll into balls. Roll balls in powdered sugar, pressing into dough slightly. Bake on ungreased cookie sheet about 10 minutes until cookies "crack". Do NOT overbake! Cool on wire racks. Makes about 3 1/2 dozen small cookies.

If my kids are band nerds, then...

2005-12-06T21:42:00.000-06:00

I must be a momma nerd. I don't know exactly. Tonite was the Moore Band Christmas
Concert. This included three Jr Highs and two High Schools. My boys are one of the Jr High bands and they have improved over 200%. Amazing! The oldest boy plays french horn, the youngest plays trombone.

I had the pleasure of sitting next to another momma nerd who apparently just got her first cell phone. And she was happy to USE it. Repeatedly. Not only that, but she wanted to talk about her phone with the six-year-old sitting next to her. And she had long legs that she couldn't keep off of my side. She kept hitting me with her knees. My husband, on the other side of me, wanted to make cute comments about all the band kids. "Hey, that kid on the french horn looks like Sam the Shepherd from Looney Toons!" I got to enjoy some of it, though. There were very few lowlights from the concert.

I was a bundle of nerves, though. My daughter, driving alone for all of three weeks, including errands and back and forth to school and church, had her first wreck today. I was home lounging with a new suspense thriller, when I got the call. She was crying, and it took a second to make sense of what she was saying. When I realized she was fine, she said that someone hit her and took off, and she was calling me from the nearest parking lot, and wanted to know what to do. Derek, half an hour overdue, was not picking up his cell and since my daughter had my car, I was stuck. I tried to rack my brain for ways to get there. My neighbor was asleep already, and it didn't dawn on me that the preacher's son and daughter in law, a good friend of mine, lived around the corner, as did our church's minister to students. So I set off on foot-only 3/4 mile, but that's a long way when your baby is scared and it's getting to be close to 30 degrees out. I hardly noticed in my thin sweater and t-shirt. By the time I got there, the person who hit her had come back to the scene (she was actually turning around, not running, and had a special needs sister in her car, and was having trouble getting back to where the collision occured). My daughter had exchanged the proper info as the police on the phone told her to, and they were all waiting on me to drag my raggedy out of shape self there.

Turns out I have some serious rear-end problems. Me and my car. I will have to call the insurance people tomorrow and get it taken care of, which I really hate because there's no cosmetic damage that can't be wiped off with some bug-off, but the car isn't drivable. It sways when you drive. But all in all, the damages are few. Thank God for His protection! There's no such thing as a "little collision" when your kid is in it.

How much more, then, does our Father love us? As passionately and desperately as we love our children and want what's best, it doesn't begin to compare to God's love for us. He wants what is best. Even when it doesn't seem so at the time. As you go through hardships remember that they come to us lovingly thru God's filter. He loves us and is taking care of us, and gives His angels charge over us.

Thank you God, that I'm sitting in my warm house, safe with all my babies, sipping egg nog and reminiscing about the day, and looking forward to the snow tomorrow. Please continue to keep us safe, and help us to walk close to You always. Amen.

I'm not really taking back what I said...not really...

2005-12-05T16:12:00.000-06:00

I don't know that my decision to boycott non-Christian companies who refuse to acknowledge Christmas was a great idea...and I will own up to it. I'm not so certain my frustration comes from them not promoting Christian things as it is that they are just plain cutting them out. I don't believe everyone should believe the way I do. I'm certainly ok with individuality, and in fact would be pretty sick if the world were just like me. I like me ok, but you know, too much of a good thing...as it were.

I read a great college newspaper article today about taking the individuality out of everything. Instead of us trying to make everything the same, why don't we acknowledge (and enjoy) all of the differences? I'm not saying that we should say, "Oh, look, holiday without Jesus is just ok." But I don't get to insist that atheist purchase and display a Holy Nativity; I have to pray for opportunities to share. Christ Himself shared the gospel in love, and left the decision up His audience. Maybe it was my intention all along, but I jump on angry band wagons without thinking it through. My friend, I am Peter and that's a sword in my hand. I still think it's a shame that we are trying to be all-inclusive by making it all one big thing. A Christmas tree (which is secular, by the way) is still a Christmas tree. They don't use them in Kwanzaa or Hanukkah. The writer of the article said, "I would never place a mennorah in my window and declare it a 'Holiday candelabra'." Good point.

So how does one share the love of God with others without taking God out of the conversation? Surely I (especially I) am not living so brightly that people look at me and think, "Oh! Christian! I'll have what she's having!" How will they (whomever 'they' are) know if I don't tell them? Because in the end it's the same answer: life without Jesus is pointless. I will make it then, a priority to share as God allows and leave the life-changing and decision-making up to Him and them. Colossians 4:5-6 "Be wise in the way you act with people who are not believers, making the most of every opportunity. When you talk, you should always be kind and pleasant so you will be able to answer everyone in the way you should."

Thanks for leaving my head mostly intact and letting me explain myself. God is good, Christ is Christmas, and as Ebenezer Scrooge says, "You keep Christmas in your way, and I'll keep Christmas in mine."

And they will know us by our fruitcake.

IT'S NOT A HOLIDAY!!

2005-11-30T23:06:00.000-06:00

What's the deal with everybody wanting to quit Christmas? Why is it just a holiday now? My kids go on winter break from school. Someone's throwing a fit because the President wants to call that big pine with lights on the front lawn of the White House a "Christmas" tree!! Retailers won't acknowledge Christmas, let alone Christ. The same government that wants to remove all Christianity from the holiday is happy to take the Christmas Break and get paid for it.

I say we all pack it up, grab our families and some lunch, and head to some uncharted territory somewhere and make our own country with our own government, where we can worship God the way we want to.

OH WAIT!! WE ALREADY DID THAT!!!!!

And here we are, in our own land, being told how we will worship, celebrate, pray, and gather. I once had a Sunday School teacher who told me to "HIDE THE WORDS OF GOD IN MY HEART" because someday I wouldn't be free to read the Bible. I was scared then, but now I really see that it could be a possibility in the very near future. I'm mad now. I'm fighting mad. I know this isn't a patriotic holiday, but now more than ever it's evident that our freedom is at stake. I'm ready to fight for my freedom. I'm ready to stand up for my God and my Country and say that if you don't want to celebrate Christ's birth, fine. There's a nice warm resort waiting for you at the end of your life, and you will be as far from Him as you can possibly be.

Retailers, get over yourselves. You are willing to make billions of dollars off of American families who celebrate Christmas, so you need to be dancing a jig and singing the Happy Fat Wallet Christmas Song, and thanking God for His blessings. Advertisers, you are numbing everyone's minds with your holiday jingles and messages that we are bad parents if we don't buy our kids Xboxes and flat screen tvs and cell phones and portable DVD players...and then are so very careful to not offend all the other faiths. Cults. Whatever. HELLO? Do you know that more people claim Christianity than any other faith??? Why are we not screaming at the top of our lungs? Why are the billions of us not boycotting retailers at Christmas? I guarantee you if we spent one Christmas toy and gadget and electronic free, the retailers would hear, we would spend quality time with those we love, and GOD would be the center of His birthday party. Retailers aren't scared because they know we won't stand up. We can scream, but we will be there handing our money over saying "Oh, go ahead. I haven't the imagination to make mine a non-commercial Christmas."

I hate to send out such negativity. I like uplifting, happy e-votions. But right now I'm neither happy or uplifted. I want us to band together, or maybe even start a band together! and I want to fight and kick and scream! I want to celebrate Christmas! I want Jesus to be the center of the celebration!

Or we could stick Him in a box under our holiday tree.

By the way, whether the world acknowledges Him or not...He's still Christ the King and He's coming back for us! Hope it's not during the holiday...

"If My people who are called by My Name shall humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from Heaven and will forgive their sin, and heal their land."

"And you shall call His name Immanuel, God with Us." Whether you want Him there or not.

2005-11-29T22:03:00.000-06:00

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made-God's words, not mine

2005-11-10T17:20:00.000-06:00

Yippee!! Derek's grilling salmon tonite! I love when he grills. It means I don't have to cook. However, I'm trying to catch up with the dishes so we don't have to eat it out of bundt cake pans with measuring spoons. Not kidding. The dishwasher's broken and I don't function so well without it. He's also cooking grilled veggies, but I won't partake. My idea of a veggie is a baked potato. Starchy, I know. But who cares? It's yummy. My mom said vegetables wouldn't kill me and I needed to eat them. And here's what happened.

I found a veggie I liked. Artichoke. I ate it once or twice, and then took some to work with me at the emergency room where I was a nurse. Guess what. It almost killed me. About ten minutes after I ate it, with some chicken and pasta, my face felt tight, I got hot and sweaty, and my scalp felt like it was on fire. NOT in the good way either. I was standing near a physician's assistant (like doctor express) and I said, "Is my face red?" She turned and looked at me, and had the situation not been so potentially dangerous, she would have laughed out loud. It was like the scene in "Pure Luck" when Martin Short gets bee stung. Or like Wil Smith in "Hitch" where he has a food reaction. They got some meds pumped into me (do NOT take oral steroids without a sweet drink nearby) shot me with epinepherine, and just like that I got the rest of the day off. With a benadryl hangover. It's almost worth precariously clinging to life just to get half a day off. Ah, good times.

I'm eating salmon now because I'm supposed to increase my Omega-3's. And protein. Apparently I have adult ADD which means part of my brain is very low functioning. That would be the organization part of my brain, all you comedians. This explains why I'm bad at math and housework but still quite creative. I'm bad at planning, but react very efficiently in emergencies. It's why I use "thingy" in sentences a lot, because it's way easier than using valuable time to actually think of an appropriate word. Or why I'll need to yell for Derek while I'm looking at the clock, but I yell out "6:47!" rather than his name. Well, that may be something else entirely. I've always felt like a failure as a wife and mother because I don't seem to possess the ability to Martha Stewartize my house. My mom and sister are amazing decorators, cooks, and housekeepers. I'm not a bad cook, I just don't cook for crowds because I have to do it my own way, and people don't always understand my own way. So I'm left asking if I can just stir. My family will tell you it's my spiritual gift. Forget prophecy and shepherding. We need some really proficeint stirrers in the Kingdom. I AM THAT HERO!!

So it wasn't until the counselor told me to "only use my powers for good" that I started seeing the positive sides of my quirkiness. All the poor grades, the procrastination, the disorganization had a purpose. It was God's plan that my brain work the way it does. I do have to find other ways to have a pleasing household. I do need to be a good steward of my time, I just have to do it differently than others. But I was lovingly and precisely stitched together by God long before time began. He had a plan for my life, a plan not to harm me, but to prosper me. And you know what? I still can't figure out how people keep beds made or why we even bother, but I'm learing how to use my creative brain. I'm learning that the gift of laughter is good. I make people happy. I make people feel very normal and capable. I'm ok with that. I just need to figure out how to turn a profit so I can hire a cleaning lady. Although, Derek said if I ever made a million, he'd be my wife. He IS a good cook...

Ridin' Fences (not what you think)

2005-11-03T22:26:00.000-06:00

When I was a little girl, I would go horseback riding with my grandfather. He had a home in the country, a pasture in the city, and many different horses over the years. My first and last horse was Eagle. He lived to be the same age I am now. He died one month after my grandma did. I treasure those hours spent riding with Grandad. We had fun. I learned a lot about life, and about simplicity. About what it is to just...be. I remember one day it occurred to me that our horses were very big. Much bigger than I. I couldn't have been but 6 or so, and maybe just a few hands high. (Horse talk.) It was clear the horses weren't thrilled about having a piece of steel stuck in their mouths and then having a big leather saddle with a little rider on their backs. But every time, it was the same thing-Grandad sent me with the lead to bring in the horses we'd be riding, and they always went.

One day when we were riding fences (looking for breaks in the barbed wire where the cattle could escape onto the other ranchers land) I asked Grandad, "If the horses don't like us to ride them all the time, why don't they just throw us off and go home?"

"Well, I reckon" (that's what cowboys do, they 'reckon')"it's because they don't know they can."

"Why?" I asked.

"They think we're stronger."

This was too much for a little girl. Knowing that horses listen to the cowboys (they turn their ears back toward you when you talk) I told my little horse, "Runt-Runt, if you don't want me to ride you, why don't you just throw me off and run back to the barn?" Of course Runt-runt didn't. He just kept his little burden on his back and walked along beside Duke or Eagle, whoever Grandad was riding at the moment. A couple years later, Runt-runt was joined by a little paint named "Thunder" who had been mistreated. For the most part Thunder was a good boy, only one day he threw me, and learned what it meant to be chased down by a little red headed cowgirl with steam coming out her ears. It became my one focus to turn Thunder into a good saddle horse and to be obedient and accepting of his rider. It didn't take long!

Do you ever wonder why it is we so readily accept the burdens on our backs? We walk around with satan hounding us every moment and holding onto us with an unrelenting grip. Do you think it's because he knows...we don't know?

Don't we know that God has conquered death and hell? Don't we know that where we are weak, He is strong? Don't we know that satan's grip is tenuous at best? Don't we know that God holds all power over satan, and that we don't have to give in to him! We don't have to pack him around on our backs like beasts of burden, and yet here we are! Allowing him to control us, like a cowboy on a magnificent stallion! If only the horse knew! IF ONLY WE KNEW!!

Has satan convinced us he's stronger? I reckon!

The Unbreakable Cousin Chain

2005-10-20T11:35:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid, my aunt, uncle and 2 girl cousins lived about 1/2 mile away from us. Our families would get together with some frequency for dinner, and the adults would play trivial pursuit and the kids, all girls, would just play. It was me, my sister Jennifer, and my cousins Tarisa and Tamra.

We had quite imaginations at that age. As the oldest I felt the entertainment rested on my shoulders. We would get a tape recorder and sing songs on it, then make up a "flea circus" and use the tape recorder as the background music for fleas by pushing the play button half way down. We would sing songs that I swear my grandad made up and make no sense whatsoever. We would sing the songs our mothers sang together in their mixed quartet or ladies trio, and even try to harmonize. We did this with puppets we bought on our trip to Canada.

Sometimes we would argue and fight, but mostly we just played and had a good time. We were all within about 5 years of each other age wise. At the end of the evening, we could tell it was about time to go home...someone had won the last pie in trivial pursuit. All they had to do was answer the final question and then clean up. This was our signal to form "the unbreakable cousin chain". We would run to the double bed (four small girls fit quite nicely) and lay side by side, and then entwine our arms and legs so that no adult could break us apart. We were certain of the power of the chain, and knew that the adults probably wouldn't even try to seperate us, so formidable was its strength. We knew that if we kept our eyes closed and remained very quiet, the adults would think we were so precious sleeping, and they would allow us to spend the night together. The Chain was just a back up plan to make them think twice about trying to move us.

There were days that we actually fell asleep before the parents would get there. Then there were days where we had to fight back the giggles that threatened to give us away, but our parents didn't know, and they would say, "Oh, they're asleep. Let's just leave them like that." And as they pulled the door shut we would celebrate quietly with a whispered "Yes!" not knowing they were just on the other side of the door, giggling themselves.

I have great memories of my childhood. Today, we cousins and sisters are all spread apart, except for me and Tarisa. Together we still have the strong bond of family and when attacked fly into "Cousin Chain Formation" really quick. It isn't as strong without Jennifer and Tamra, but we still believe in its power!

Speaking of strength, I serve a Mighty God. I know what my strength amounts to, even wrapped up with my sister and two cousins, compared to our parents. I'm really not strong at all. But when I stand behind The One who created me, and let Him entwine Himself in and around me, no foe can come against me that He can't handle. My strength rests in Him, and in my obedience to Him. Not me. Never me. Always Him. Phil 4:13

I'm Blocked

2005-10-17T22:52:00.000-05:00

I'm writing, but you need to know it's under duress. I don't have a thing to say, I'm bored, I'm upset about my schedule being changed at work, and I have to work tomorrow and Wednesday. They know I don't work Wednesdays. What's the deal? If they keep it up I may quit and go write a book and go on a book tour.

I don't know what I'm saying. I'm tired and stressed. It's been a fun day, but I should be looking forward to my day off. Whine, ungrateful one. I've been off 5 days in a row.

What did I do? Um...nothing productive, I can tell you that. Derek is sitting here beside me reading my e-votions that I e-mail and laughing, so that's kinda good, but I gotta go to bed now and get ready for work. (Not in that order.) No clean socks or unders.

Spiritual point? None. I could use one right about now though. I can't think of a better time to pick up my bible. Can you?

Don't Miss It!

2005-10-06T10:42:00.000-05:00

It was January 2000. The Sooners had won another National Championship and all of Oklahoma was proud. I thought I'd take the kids to Norman to welcome home the football team, and let them see the players up close, maybe get some autographs. So with my dearest friend Jana and two 'tweens in tow, off we went to God's country, Memorial Stadium.

When we got there, it took forever to park. There were fans everywhere. It was a little icy as we'd just had a nice snow, and the ground was wet and muddy. Oklahoma red mud. Slush. Yuk. We made it to the stadium to wait with everyone and decided to take a quick tour because the kids had never been to a game in person. We went inside the stadium because it was open. I've never seen Owen Field covered in snow. It was an amazing sight, and we stood reverently where Oklahoma's Beloved Heroes had walked.

Just then we heard cheering. The bus had arrived with the players! I wasn't sure where to go, but we made our way toward the growing roar. I made it to the gate with kids trailing me, and as I tried to get out, these guys were trying to get in. It hadn't dawned on me we were the only ones left here, and as we tried to push back thru this sudden flock of men trying to get in, I realized everyone was probably with the players and we might miss them, or be lost in such a huge crowd. I excused myself and pushed thru like a champion running back at a goal line stand (not totally rude, but I think I gained respect from guys who outsized me quite a bit) and we were finally free to run to...wait, the roar of the fans was...gone...but...HEY!!! Did I just push thru the entire Sooner Football Lineup?

And the answer was yes. I was so intent on getting to where I was going that I didn't realize I was already there, missing the opportunity of a lifetime. And how obvious was it that I was a tiny mite walking amongst giants? Talk about missing the forest!!!

We are seeking for something everyday. For peace, comfort and happiness at the root of everything. But we are usually looking in the wrong places-in money, power, sex, or food. None of these things can fulfill the deepest desires of our heart. They can buy us things, make us feel good temporarily, but none of it leads to true inner peace. If you haven't found Him yet, Christ is right there, waiting to grant you the truest desire of your heart.

Is He In you?

Ambiance

2005-09-28T22:24:00.000-05:00

I can't believe autumn is here! When I walked out of church this evening and the wind was blowing and the "cold" front had moved in, I was so excited! I have been willing summer over by baking and eating pumpkin pie, and I went to Starbuck's with my best friend Jana and I had a pumpkin cream frappacino. Venti. Now, I usually don't go to Starbuck's because I don't enjoy the ambiance. It's kind of a little too...I don't know...clean? commercial? I just like going to non-chain places where the refills are free, the baristas like their jobs and smile and don't flip out when you have a special order...but this time it was fine.

Among my favorite coffee shops in the city are the now closed Old Judge Coffee Co.; Uncommon Grounds in Bricktown (probably my favorite) and Wholly Grounds (great Christian artists playing occasionally). I like the atmosphere at Java Dave's but I hate that you don't get free refills on the plain coffee. Chain thing, I guess. I can't stand any place smoky, and if the crowd is too young, too hip, I kinda feel like a soccer mom in a CD store. So I go where I'm comfortable.

I also like a place with a good gift selection. Java Dave's is, so far, the best out there. Something about shopping while drinking the perfect cup of coffee is a great combination. And doesn't coffee just taste better out of a mug than paper or styrofoam cups? Panera is great, but, alas, no shopping. But the crowd is definitely older, the atmosphere casual, and the furniture comfortable.

I wonder what people say about our churches when they visit? Was the atmosphere warm and inviting? Were the members willing to reach out and meet special needs, or do they fumble around with cue cards and wonder how to fit in this "difference"? Do we have lots of extras to offer, or are we a hymn and a message and a prayer and thank you for coming, see ya next time?

I want to have the kind of church that, like a coffee shop, would release a sweet aroma as soon as the door opens, and the members are warm and caring and able to help those who visit, where we meet individual needs with out cookie cutter solutions. Where there's variety, service, the Spirit is evident, and when people leave, they can't wait to come back, and bring a friend.

For the most part that's true. But we have to make service a priority.

Never take for granted the spiritual condition of a visitor. Make them feel welcome. Love on them as Christ would and be ready to take an order you've never heard of before. In short, be Jesus to them!

Coffee Snobs

2005-09-17T20:16:00.000-05:00

I'm a coffee snob. Case in point:
If someone else made the coffee, it's probably not very good.
If it's in the orange handled carrafe, it's probably decaf and I'm not having it.
If I even think that someone may be re-using the old grounds...ouch, that hurts my brain!!
If there is a full pot of coffee left unattended I can assume it's old and throw it out and make fresh.
If you microwave coffee you're a freak. Go have tea.
I send Christmas and Valentine's cards to Juan Valdez and his donkey.
I like coffee in a mug. Not a cup.
Certain mugs have better tastes than others. (If it has a brown ring, even better...)
If you made me choose between coffee and chocolate my head would explode. That's like trying to choose between your kids.
I hate chocolate in my coffee. Wierd.

Know what happens when you leave a whole coffee bean in a cup of warm water and come back and check it in a few hours? You have a whole coffee bean in a cup of room temperature water.

The best kind of coffee is beans bought fresh, ground just before brewing with uncomfortably hot water, but never boiling, and is consumed within 10 minutes of brewing. That's what I know. You can't get coffee unless the process takes place.

The best kind of Christian is one who presents him/herself to God, whole, just as we are, and allows him/herself to be finely ground and washed over with the uncomfortably hot water of God's cleansing forgiveness. Only then do we produce the aroma and flavor we are meant to have. And only then are we pleasing to others. If we don't submit to God's process, we don't become the essence of what it is we were created to be. We are just whole beans floating around comfortably, missing the point, not fulfilling our purpose.

Where are you right now? Have you fought God's process? If so, submit to Him today, and see what He can do with a simple bean!!

Feeding Frenzy

2005-09-13T09:42:00.000-05:00

"I set out to conquer the world but I got distracted by something shiny." -unknown

Such good intentions I have. I want to do a good thing, or do a thing good, but then somewhere along the way I lose focus. Or burn out or something.

I was at work the other day-pay day. I love pay day, but this was a special pay day. I worked overtime one shift which means I get a $25 Wal-Mart card in addition to my pay check. Now, my salary is nothing to get excited about, but up next to a $25 gift card, the difference is huge. So why in the world do we all get so excited about that piece of plastic? Oh, I know, it's extra, it's free, it's a 1/4 tank of gas, but still! What about the money I'd worked so hard to earn? Funny.

Another day at work the doctors all got together and bought us lunch. A nice catered affair with plates and we got to sit down to eat. (Very unusual for nurses). But before lunch, one of the doctors brought a large shopping bag full of junk-drug rep gifts that convince us to prescribe their drugs more. Really it's mostly cheap plastic office gadgets and pens and sticky notes. But let me tell you-this stuff disappears faster than chocolate in an OB/GYN office. Nurses can hear free pens clacking on a counter from a mile away. And like sharks smelling blood in the water, here they come. I am one of them. We fight for the purple ones, offer our first-born for the metal ones, and if it has an unusual shape or novelty attraction, we would sell our souls for them. Really "feeding frenzy" is the best description that comes to mind.

You know, we're a lot like that in our Christian walk. We set out with such good intentions, only to be distracted by so much shiny plastic. What are we thinking? What is it about instant gratification that makes us forget what's ours? It's truly all sex, drugs, and rock and roll, and in the end it's worthless garbage.

So what's a Christian to do? God commands us to stay pure and focus. Stay strong. 2 Corinthians 4:1-2 says, "Therefore, since through God's mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God."

We press on. Keep our focus, and in doing so draw others to Christ.

Nurseheimers and other tales from the front lines

2005-09-09T21:24:00.000-05:00

Oh, the things I have to do. People always tell nurses "I just don't see how you do it. It takes a special person." To which I graciously reply, "A monkey could do my job." Some days I'm convinced of this. Other days I think "No self respecting monkey...

Take today, for instance. A physical therapist put my patient on a bed pan. (I was too busy.) He was nice enough to tell me but not nice enough to do the good work of getting him off the thing. Don't worry-I remembered about 30 minutes later. Which is precisely the amount of time it takes to form a really good suction with your backside. I'm not joking-butt hickey! Yes, the whole thing. The poor guy was stuck to the pan like...ok, no metaphor comes to mind, but you know the sound of the jelly jar breaking the seal when you first open it? Kinda like that, but more like a cartoon plunger being pulled off someone's face. Not to mention the slop that came out of the thing with that much force behind it. (I dodged).

Later the doctor came to see the guy on his rounds, then came out and asked if I knew why his patient hadn't narry a stitch on his body. I went to the room, explaining that I'd just been in there 1/2 an hour ago, when lo and behold, there he lay with narry a stitch as previously reported by said doctor. I said, "Sir! What are you doing?!" (disbelieving look on my face). He replied, and I'm not kidding, "Laying here with shortness of breath and dementia, apparently." Funniest thing I've ever heard.

I need to come up with a spiritual point to this journal entry but for the life of me I can't think of one!

One of my favorite verses (especially for days like this) is "Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28.

"I'm heavy laden," I long to cry. Right now I'm happy and thankful to be home and warm and safe. I have a full weekend of peace and quiet and bill-paying to do. I'm thankful to be able to do that. Thank you, Jesus, for small blessings, silver linings, and a moment to catch my breath! Cari

168 seconds

2005-09-06T10:04:00.000-05:00

Ever find yourself waiting on God's timing and thought maybe His clock was a little off? I know I have. If He would consult with me first, He would see that we could do things on Cari time and how happy would that make me? Actually, I've made it really evident that when we use my schedule, things aren't so good. God has to remind me frequently that I'm NOT the fourth member of the Trinity, and when I agreed to serve Him it was apparently not to be in an advisory capacity.

Still, it leaves me asking questions. Why would God wait? Why does He seem slow sometimes? Habakkuk asked this question in his book by the same name. Why was God allowing the evil ones to be evil? Why didn't He take control now? How long would God turn His face on our pain? Job tried to make excuses for God in his book (also same name) and Sarah laughed at God. (That would be in Genesis) Was God serious?

He answered them all. To Habakkuk he said to write His answer down on clay tablets so later Habakkuk could come back and read what God had anwered with out changing it. The first prayer journal! He said, "Though it linger, wait for it." With Job, in about Chapter 38 He said, "Now listen to what I have to say," and made it really clear who was in control. With Sarah in Genesis 18:13 God promised He would return at the right time.

So who are we to doubt His timing? It's perfect. It's for a reason. We can't see it with human eyes until much later. My aunt taught a conference session on Habakkuk and God's timing. She talked about going to the 1st anniversary of the Murrah Building Bombing in OKC. She knew that there would be 168 seconds of silence in honor of the ones who perished on that day, and that a bell would toll 168 times, one a second, for each of those whose lives were lost. She also knew that there would be jets flying low over them following the tolling of the bells, as a sign of respect to those who were left behind. As the seconds ticked by, and the tolling continued, she prayed. When it got to 150 she looked to the horizon for the Blue Angels to appear. At 160, with still no jets in sight, she thought that maybe they had forgotten...165...no jet...166...DING...DING..."

It wasn't until after the final bell tolled that she saw and heard the dramatic entrance of the Blue Angels, flying in perfect formation in perfect time. One second early would have dishonored the 168th vicim and her family. One second late would have distracted the participants and been out of place.

God has perfect timing. We may not understand it, but then we were never told we would. We may not even get it while we're here on this earth! One things for sure though. God's got it under control. He'll be here, right when He needs to be.

I have seen heaven...

2005-08-28T22:34:00.000-05:00

I bought this thing awhile back for $50 for 2 nights at the Raddison in Branson. The deal was we had to go on a tour of this amazing resort, the Big Cedar, and endure a 90 minute presentation on time shares. A week before we headed out they called to say that we didn't have rooms at the Raddison, would we mind staying at the Big Cedar? It was $269 a night, but for us, a complimentary upgrade. I don't get excited about anything. I said, "Um, ok."

So we went. I lectured Derek (hubby) all the way there. "I don't care if they offer free fishing and hunting or anything else. We do the tour, say no thanks, pick up our free gift and leave. " Really. I mean it.

When we arrived at the front gate I knew we were in trouble. The registration center was beautiful. Deer antler chandeliers, stained glass windows, logs, leather furniture...every outdoorman's dream. As it turns out I'm kinda into the whole north-woods decor kinda thing, so I was sure we had been raptured and were now standing at Heaven's gate. St Peter was a woman in her 50's who called a shuttle for us and had us driven to our room a quarter mile away. 800 acres of trees and mountain and streams...heaven. And she told us we could go in.

We were escorted to our mansion in glory. (I really thought we'd all have our own, but whatever). The door opened. Angels sang. Beams of light shot out from behind the beds. I hadn't expected something so grand! Feather beds with 5 million count percale, down comforter, and wool Pendleton blankets in burnt orange with animal prints on it.

You know on Lord of the Rings where Smeegle looks at the ring and says "My precious!!!" Well, this was now me. Derek saw the danger, and started warning me. "When he sleeps I'll pokes out his eyeses." It would be MINE. MY PRECIOUS. And enjoy the ammenities we did. The canoes on Table Rock Lake, the lazy river at the lodge, the mini-golf. I was Eve only instead of forbidden fruit, "The Cookie Lady" brought us cedar shaped gingerbread cookies every evening at 8 and turned down our beds.

FEATHERBEDS!!!! God wanted me to have this!!!! So we went to our presentation. We'd tasted the forbidden fruit, and now we were face to face with satan himself, and he claims to have worked with Loretta Lynn. But wow, he was convincing. Made it sound great. I was being sucked in. Derek was the rock. About 45 minutes into the presentation satan asked if we had any questions yet. Derek said, "What'd you do with Loretta Lynn?"

That's mah boy.

Turns out he'd sung back-up. Apparently not very lucrative.

So satan continued the presentation (apparently it was 90 football minutes) and showed us what was going to be "our cabin". Our "home away from home." Unbelievable. Then we went in for the sales pitch. "All this and a free set of ginsu knives for $20,000." I was starting to think, hey, this isn't heaven. My....precious???

You know how the really good dreams end up with an alarm and no time to hit snooze? That was my reality. We thanked kind sir and accepted our free gifts (Bass pro gift certificate and show tickets) and went to enjoy the rest of our short trip in peace. Sort of.

I know I should be grateful for the respite. And I am. "He leads me beside still waters and restores my soul" it says in Psalms 23. I know that I have to wait awhile. I also know God's preparing my mansion in glory. I just hope it's made of logs and has a featherbed.

By the way, if you have $20k laying around I HIGHLY recommend Bass Pro's Big Cedar Lodge in Branson. There's a really great guy named Ray Burdett who'd be glad to set you up! Go to www.bigcedar.com for a preview (photos don't do it justice) and contact Bass Pro about the "Time share presentation special for $60." If you can spare 90 minutes or so it's worth it!

My Extreme Makeover

2005-08-28T20:38:00.000-05:00

I had a great ladies' conference this weekend! What a response! The women were warm and encouraging (always good when you're standing in front of people older and wiser than you and teaching them...) and the subject matter really flowed. I felt good about it. My prayer is that God was glorified!

I taught about Extreme Makeover and how it applies to our lives today. We as Christians have a "home" that is uninhabitable. (I will never use that as a key word in my class again!! Try saying it over and over!!) What in our Christian lives makes us worn out, ugly, or NOT LIVABLE?

Our "home" represents our entire Christian lives and how we present ourselves, both publicly and privately when no one is around. Our facade is our beauty. Our beauty depends solely on what's inside of us. Do people see on our outsides what is happening on the inside, and if so, is that at positive thing? Our living room represents our personality. Like our living room at home, it is designed with other's comfort in mind as well as our own. Is it warm and inviting, or cold and impersonal? What are negative personality traits that make others uncomfortable with us? Our kitchen represents our basic needs of life. Is our kitchen full of junk food, or microwavable food? Do we take time to eat substantial, healthy meals? Our quiet time is like that. Do I have "microwavable religion" that works in a pinch but never really satisfies? How about my closet. What is it about those secret quiet spaces that causes us to want to stuff things? This is our sin life...our habits, addictions, resentments, guilt, shame, fear, pain, abuse, worry, anger, bitterness....but like that painting we made in the 70's, we take ownership of these things and no matter how ugly, we don't want to let it go. But we certainly don't want others to see it. So we hide it.

This house must fall. God must call in His Holy demolition crew and tear us to the ground. We begin by going away. Psalm 127:1 Unless the Lord build the house, they labor in vain who built it. In the tv show, the family doesn't get to stay and help...they go away. The house must be built on a firm foundation. We need a really great bathroom. A place where we can go and be completely exposed before God. We need bright lights of revelation and mirrors that reflect. When we expose ourselves before God, we can climb into the hot shower of mercy and forgiveness and let Him cleanse us. Then our kitchen should be stocked with spiritual veggies. Sure, you can have quick devotions written by others now and then. But if I'm having a steak, do you want me to tell you how it tastes, or would you rather taste it for yourself?? We need to be sure our closets are functional. Dump all the garbage inside and send it to the dump. Add to it a space to pray, a place to store wisdom and experience and memories, so you can go to it and pull out what you need! Our living room (personality) will then reflect the warmth of a home full of love. I can speak with the toungues of men and angels, but if I don't have love I'm a clanging cymbal. That's 1 Corinthians 13. Read it! Finally when my house is in order inside, it will be beautiful on the outside. Elizabeth Kubler Ross writes about death and dying. She said "We are like stained glass windows. We shine and sparkle in the sun. But when in darkness we can only shine if the light comes from within." Thanks for reading this far! This is a quick version of my class session. Questions?

Oops...published my title without a blog...

2005-08-21T12:11:00.000-05:00

Heya! It's Sunday and I'm at my computer. This is strange because I'm usually at church right now. However, I had to work today for 1/2 a day, so I left early and came home to change into scrubs. Guess what. Not dry. Fantabulastic.

I'm amazed at this whole blogging thing, how it sort of pulls you in. I plan to only use my powers for good, though. I can't believe the anger and hatred out there. Do you people know there's a God who can take all of that away?

Hatred of Christianity is not new, but it's the one remaining acceptable hatred. If anything is good, it will be scoffed at. I know that one day, no matter what you think here on earth, Jesus will return to get His children. And then one day we'll stand before Christ and give an account of what we did here on earth. Did we accept Jesus as Lord? Did we not only believe (the bible says even satan and his minions believe) but also ask Him into our hearts and live for Him?

People have this wild misconception that hell is a party place where the badest of the bad dudes will be the life of the party. Here's the truth-hell was made not for humans but for satan and his angels. One day they will be cast once and for all into the lake of fire, and tormented for all of eternity. Without end. God gave us an out, though. We can accept Jesus (see above) or we can deny Him. God doesn't send good people to hell. We send ourselves by not accepting His sacrificial gift.

John 14:6 Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one gets to Heaven except thru Him.

Let Him in, won't ya?

Sunday, Sunday, da da, da da da!

2005-08-21T12:10:00.000-05:00

Whatever

2005-08-20T18:19:00.000-05:00

YES! A storm is moving in! I can't stand it, I'm so excited! I love storms! It doesn't look too ominous, which is disappointing to me. The heat index here is over 100. Rain will cool us off for awhile. Of course the payoff is a really humid day tomorrow. I hate humidity.

Okies love weather. Do other states and countries have tornado sirens? We have them everywhere. They test them for about one minute every Saturday at noon. What happens if a tornado blows in on a Saturday at noon? When we have tornadoes in the area the sirens sound to give us sufficient time to...you guessed it, put on our tube tops and find the video camera. If you've ever seen news footage of Oklahoma after a storm you know the eyewitness has teeth inversely proportional to number of tatoos, and they are wearing a tube top. "...it sounded like a freight train! All I could think of was, 'I just loaned Mary Jo my casserole.' We're just happy to be alive. The trailer crushed all the dogs though." Thank you my cousin Tarisa for the casserole bit. You're so funny.

We aren't really all like that. Some of us are educated and know the correct spelling of "Y'all" and use it correctly in sentences. We tried awhile back to change it to "yooz guys" but it just didn't work out. Too much work.

Now I'm thinking I had a point to this story. All that writing and not a shred of spiritual content. Sometimes I get like that. If you've read this far and wonder what I'm talking about, you should know that I love to write about my life experiences and how they relate to Christ. Let's go with the stormy weather metaphor.

The disciples and Jesus were on a boat. It started storming, and Jesus slept. The disciples wondered if Jesus cared if they died. So they woke Him and asked if He was just going to let them die. Jesus said, "peace, be still." Then the storm stopped. I don't know if He was talking to the dicsiples or the storm, but at least the storm obeyed.

Sometimes we find ourselves in the storms of life. Do we trust that God has it under control, or do we hunt Him down and demand to be taken care of? One of my favorite songs says, "sometimes He calms the storm and other times He calms His child." Who was that song by? I don't remember.

Maybe another time...until then, enjoy the storm!

Grace is like that!

2005-08-18T20:43:00.000-05:00

This is not a lady-like story. I apologize to my mom, grandma, my southern-lady aunts, and all the rest of the people who claim to have raised me. To my sister and cousins I do not apologize, because they woulda been right there with me.

I was at work at the hospital a while back and I had felt a little...well...rumbly all day. You know, the feeling that if you don't expel a little you'll probably explode. A lot. I was in a patient's room, a little old lady with a respiratory problem, and the doctor joined us to do his exam. As he asked questions I felt like at any moment I was going to lose it. I squeezed. I squeezed hard, and prayed for a natural disaster or anything to take the focus off of me! And then there it was. It wasn't terribly loud, but it wasn't like I could've blamed it on oxygen tubing. I was humiliated. I just passed gas in a patient's room with a doctor in hearing range!! The humanity!!! In moments like this, you pray for grace, but you don't really expect it. You know that someone's gonna laugh at you, make you the target of their ridicule and scorn.

As my face glowed crimson and I began to open my mouth with words of apology, the little old lady at once exclaimed, "OH MY! Excuse me!" I thought, "You have got to be kidding me." She really thinks she did that. Or at least the doctor does...

YES!!! Saved! I was so happy I could dance! I think maybe I did, which totally blew my cover, but I felt so good that I no longer cared who thought what!

Grace is a lot like that. You work so hard to cover up your faults or at least not keel over from total humiliation when Jesus steps in and takes your blame. He carries our shame on his shoulders and tells us it's ok. How can I not tell people of His love?

Thank you, Jesus, for loving me enough to die. Thank you for covering my sin with Your blood. Your grace amazes me! Romans 5:8 "God demonstrated His love in this, that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

Here goes...

2005-08-17T22:33:00.000-05:00

I'm a blogger. I have no idea what that means yet, but when my kids come home from school tomorrow I intend to find out. So don't laugh at me to start out because it will hurt my feelings. But later when I'm more confident you can make all the fun you want...see ya soon!