Redirection

For current posts, please follow this link to my new blog, Rambler Girl. If you want to stick around awhile, you're welcome to dig through some of my old posts. See ya over there!

Impatience

This is what happens when I have a couple unexpected days off from work: I work on my new blog, become too excited about it, and shift you over to it before you even get the chance to know that I've been thinking about starting a new blog and letting this one sit idle.

The one doctor that I work for is going to a conferance in Florida, so the office would actually be overstaffed if I was to work. That means I was able to have off yesterday and today, I naturally have Fridays off. So in 2 weeks, I'll have only worked 2 days! Not good for the savings, but good for my mind - I just hope that when I finally do go back to work, I'll not be totally useless. I tend to easily forget things. God has given me a couple of nice days too - weather wise. The kids and I met my mom to buy a gift for my nephew, whose birthday party is on Saturday. This is an exciting time for us. My brother and his family have moved to Maryland from Indiana! This birthday party will be the first birthday party we have been able to attend. After we got his gift, the kids and I went to Target to get Ethan's school supplies. Tonight is Back To School Night, an open house where we'll get to meet the kids teachers and stroll through their rooms. I'm looking forward to it, even if the kids aren't!

Having these couple of days off makes me wish even more for a schedule less in hours. Working 3 days a week would be perfect. I'm dreaming about it right now friends! Maybe I'll start to pray for that. We'll see what the Lord says.

So, the unveiling of my new blog! Click HERE or rambler girl to start reading from the rantings and ramblings new site! I'll see ya over there! (and just to make it clear, this blog site will still stick around - I just won't be posting here anymore).

Up Coming!

I'm working on it friends! I'm so excited - I've decided to lead you over to my new blog in September - and don't worry, I'll leave this blog here for you to find the link to the new blog.

It's lookin' good.

Impossible

"When God wants to do an impossible task, He takes an impossible individual---and crushes him."

~ author unknown

This quote makes me pause and wonder, could it be true? Does God work that way?

Why?

An impossible task. An impossible individual.

Pain.

And God.

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I guess it’s hard to find perfect help these days, post Eden and sin. Let’s face it, we’ve got issues.

I’ve found myself using that word a lot - "issues". It’s a simple word that sums up all the crap that happens to us, all the crap that we create, and the sinful nature that’s been passed down to us from generation to generation.

Should I list my impossible ways? Nah. Not today. But I would have to admit to being one of those impossible individuals. And I would venture to guess that you are too. In fact, I’d like to meet that person who isn’t impossible. I bet you there’s only one. And He’s residing in heaven these days.

What is it that you feel God’s given you - what impossible task? How do you view it? As a burden, as a gift? Or something in between?

God’s given me a difficult boss in a dysfunctional office with a bunch of wonderful co-workers. I’m an impossible person (I can’t even draw up a syringe without shaking!), learning waaay too much, (my brain cannot possibly hold all the information), who cannot seem to please the one I’m assisting because I tend to be a bumbling idiot (and no, I’m not being hard on myself!). It can be quite comical if I had the right perspective! But my impossibility begins with being a tight fisted, fearful, control freak. Which would be great if my type A personality could live up to those perfectionistic expectations. But my type B personality interferes with type A, and my natural stupidity which is probably a type i personality (i for idiot), wins out.

I’m a screwed up, multi-personality, deep down impossible person who has no idea what’s she’s doing in this impossible task that the Lord has given her - this gift. Or as my mentor would tell me, this invitation. (yes, I am learning something!)

Here’s a fun song by Flight of the Conchords, who sing, fittingly, about issues. And if you don't think this is very funny, don't worry. My husband doesn't share my humor either.

Theologians and Scientists

I watched the show, Wormhole, on the Discovery Channel this evening. It put me in a bad mood that I swore at the beginning of the show I wouldn't succumb to. I was even cold and distant to my husband - the usual scapegoat for my attitude when driven to sour mindedness. Pour guy.

So here's my response (using the words of one of their own) to the wackos I watched this evening. It's taken from an old thesis I wrote my senior year in high school. Robert Jastrow was an astrophysicist and agnostic. He wrote a book called, "God and the Astronomer." The following quote is from him.

"For the scientist who has lived by his faith in the power of reason, the story ends like a bad dream. He has scaled the mountains of ignorance; he is about to conquer the highest peak; as he pulls himself over the final rock, he is greeted by a band of theologians who have been sitting there for centuries."

A Laugh Gift For You

Here's something to cheer you up on Monday. Enjoy!

Time Flies …

 

… when having fun.

Sigh.

Depression always hits me as we drive away from vacation, especially beach vacations.  We had a wonderful time, and who knows when we’ll be able to return? 

We arrived in Chincoteague on Monday afternoon – after a week of work which was torturously slow and a 4 hr. trip which crawled at a snail’s pace.  Our realty company forgot about us, so they were late in giving us the house keys.  But, eventually, we were able to get to the beach for a few hours that day.  We ate supper around 8pm that night! 

 

Rain prevented us from getting into the ocean for only one day, which we utilized for shopping.  I was so surprised at how well the kids did in the water – they learned to boogie board and on the last day they even learned to body surf!  Ethan spent hours skim boarding while Noel spent the days in the water – only coming out to eat every now & then.  Gone are the days when they need their mommy and daddy right there beside them holding onto their hands or holding them on our hips!  I was not anticipating this level of independence and was greatly impressed! 

  Check out some of my beach pictures – a couple of them are taken from the town park where Dan showed Ethan how to go crabbing. 

 

They actually caught one in the small amount of time we allotted for it.  Across the waterway from the park is a picture of Tom’s Cove campground which is where Dan & I and our family spent the beach week growing up.  The red building is the game room.   The main pier is out in front of the building which is where we would hang out when we were not at the beach. 

 

Thanks goes to my sis-in-law, Gretchen, for showing me Window’s Live Writer.  I love this program!  There is too much my computer can do that I have no idea about – what else can I learn?

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s time now to take care of feet.  And actually, I’m not too stressed out about that.  I’m curious to see how my patients are making out – we see some weekly.  I also have a bone to pick with a co-worker.  She cursed us with a prediction of proliferate mosquitoes.  Let’s just say we met the Chincoteague air force and donated our blood to the cause.

The Divine Embrace

Yesterday was a tough day. Grief is a sneaky emotion sometimes. There might not ever be a rhyme or reason why one moment is particularly tougher than the next, or one day more painful than the others.


My thoughts were on my sister-in-law, my friend Michelle. She passed away last year in a motorcycle accident. Her birthday was a couple days ago. But she will forever be 29.


I do my best thinking while I'm driving (or at night when I'm supposed to be sleeping), and I had to make a couple trips yesterday. While I was driving I realized, to a much more deeper degree than ever before, how much God can't wait to bring us to himself, that he can't wait to hold us in his arms, that he's been waiting for all eternity to fulfill that purpose. He rejoices when he brings us home. It's when our relationship with him becomes complete & perfect. Like how it was supposed to be before the Fall - before sin separated us and destroyed our intimacy with our Creator. I imagined, while driving yesterday, wrapping my arms around Jesus' waist while he wraps his arms around my shoulders. My face turned against his chest.



Finally.

Home.


All the wrestling? Done. The Race? Over. The battles - won. Weariness evaporates in his arms as peace overflows. Pain has been replaced with deep joy and contentment.

Tears spring from my eyes - not from sorrow but from gratitude that he should call me to himself.

He has been waiting for this moment for all time. He welcomes me home.


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That is what I pictured. God was telling me that death is the gateway to his arms which he holds out to us. And he rejoices when a saint passes through this gate.







Psalm 116:15 "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints."







Hearing that verse last November at the funeral of my Grandma was shocking and hard to consider. How can death be precious to the Lord when it is so painful to me?

I tend to forget his perspective is complete and all-encompassing. And I dwell in my emotions a little too long sometimes. I forget that our lives are hardly a speck in time and that it won't be long before we're all together at the wedding feast.


Most days my mind is firmly planted in the here and now, this earthly life. But there are some moments when I just can't wait to be there. Within his embrace.




Home.

Chincoteague

That's me and my little brother - an no, he's not half Mexican. Those were the days when we, among our aunts, grandparents, & cousins, all camped at Tom's Cove campground in Chincoteague, VA. Our cousins and aunts would travel in with their pop-ups from Ohio and Indiana, meet us at the Church on Capehorn Rd., and travel down rt.74, going the "back way" to the shore, because according to my grandpa, the back way was the quickest. We traveled in a caravan, all our pop-ups, trucks, & us in our long obnoxious station wagon, and we'd have a blast just in the journey to Chincoteague. I remember 2 of my cousins sticking one arm out each side of the car and flapping - they made the car look like it was a bird flying. We'd all roll down the windows as we drove across the land bridge to Chincoteague, sticking out our hands to feel the sticky salty air and breathing it in.

Once we got to Tom's Cove, we set up camp - about the same spot each year. We loved crabbing off the piers and playing in the game house. A Mr. Whippy icecream truck would travel through the campground in the evenings. We'd make most of our meals, all except for when we went to Famous Pizza for pizza. It takes about 15 minutes to travel over to Assateague to the beach - a torturous drive. Assateague is a wildlife refuge and the speed limit is 25 mph at the most - and please don't run over the endangered delmarvian squirrel (that thing is a monster). After 6 hours of sand build-up in dark and unseen places, the 15 minute drive "home" is excruciating. And heaven forbid if one of the aunts wants to drive around the wildlife loop on the way - add another 15 minutes. It doesn't matter if the bathhouse is gross and dirty, as long as you can dump out the 5 pounds of sand hidden in your bathing suite - it's the best place on earth. Once you're clean, you drench yourself in deet. I read a t-shirt once that had a picture of a mosquito on it and said "Chincoteague's Airforce". It's so true. We counted my brother's mosquito bites one time on the way back to PA one year - he had well over 50 bites. They take crop duster planes and spray the air over Chincoteague with bug spray. They also travel in trucks spraying the stuff.

My favorite bird is the sea gull. Why? Because with it's call, it takes me to the shore. I love their sound. We were awakened by the sound of sea gulls in the mornings. They love the trash bags waiting for the truck.

Chincoteague has only one fast food restaurant - McDonald's. Although, I think they allowed Subway to set up shop now. Famous Pizza now has competition with Ledo's Pizza. There are plenty of dollar stores on the island, and many cute shops, including a pottery/coffee house where I plan on taking Noel for coffee and hot chocolate one morning next week. It's my favorite little shop on the island. Across the sound is Wallop's Island where NASA sends up satellites - it sounds like an earthquake when one of those things goes up. (I can't imagine what the shuttle must sound like) Chincoteague is where they make the ponys swim across the sound and then they auction them off. We always avoid pony penning week - it's crazy crowded.

Imagine my delight when Jason's family decided to make Chincoteague a family vacation every other year? Instead of camping, we rent 2 houses side by side. Staying in a house is much nicer than camping - I have to admit. There are some things, however, that just can't be beat at Tom's Cove - how I miss it!

Chincoteague is where my brothers' love for surfing and my love for the ocean was born. Chincoteague is where we would spend some of the best times with aunts, grandparents, and cousins. Where my grandpa would fish. Where we ate the best ice cream. Where my little brother and I almost ran into a giant red jellyfish while floating on our tiny Chincoteague raft (we barely made it ashore alive!). Chincoteague is where I saw my first spider crab.

Don't you just love traditions?

Super Sunny Summer Sundays

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It has been tradition since Noel and Coleton were babies that we spend Sundays at Jason’s sister’s house.  The cousins swim and jump on the trampoline all day while the adults swim and catch up on each other’s lives.

Next week, (7 days and a wake-up to be exact), Jason, I, the kids, and my brother Dan are headed to Chincoteague for 5 nights!  It has been a couple of years since we’ve been to the ocean and we miss it.  Chincoteague is a tradition since childhood days and to miss even one year is hard. 

So bring the week on – let’s get this one over with!  I can’t wait to feast my eyes on the shore and stick my hands out the car window to feel the sticky salty air.

I Want Your Vote!

I wrote this "almost post" sometime within the past two years - but I never posted it. I just found it in my notebook (actual paper, spiral bound notebook) this evening and thought, "hmmm, how appropriate, I forgot I wrote this - I should post this, it goes with what I've just written".

So, here it is, except I'll shape it up a bit better because I like my posts to be well edited (snort snort).

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Tonight my hubby and I rented a movie from Redbox (march is free movie Wednesdays). Hubby told me I could pick the movie (don't be too surprised - it wasn't too big of a risk for him. He made me pick from the comedy genre.) It was slim pickins to be sure, but I found one I thought I could make it through without feeling the need to also read a book during it. Which is a good thing due to my temporary book banishment. I chose Swing Vote. No death, drugs, depression - well, maybe just a teenie bit. It was slightly boring and in the beginning I thought, "I'm not even going to be able to pull out any spiritual applications from this!" But i kept watching, and something about the movie made me feel uneasy.

The movie, for those who chose not to see it, (you're not missing much) is about a man who, quite remarkably, has the responsibility of choosing the next president of the United States. It all came down to his vote, which he had yet to cast. So these two candidates woo him and make promises to him and even turn from their convictions to match this man's. They create an atmosphere around him that entices, making him feel at home. His concerns are their concerns, his interest are their interests. All, only to get his vote.

And here's where the spiritual application comes in. Here's the reason I'm so uneasy. What if we Christians, what if I, am trying to change my persona, my convictions, in order to not only win the "vote" of others, but of God? Am I trying to prove that I'm "right?" Why?

I read a book my Sista D lent me not too long ago. It's called, Searching For God Knows What by Donald Miller. In this book, Miller describes the lifeboat theory. He says we act like we're all in a lifeboat together, except it's getting too full and we feel we must throw someone overboard in order for the boat to stay afloat. We think it would make most sense for us to throw the most worthless person overboard. So we are all trying to prove to each other how valuable we are - what do we have to offer to those around us? Don't throw me overboard, I'm a doctor! I'm worthy because I've got an MBA, I'm a professional, and I run my home smoothly and lovingly with happy children and content husband. I'm the proverbs 31 wife. I'm a PK, MK, and POW!

I've got my own reasons why I shouldn't be kicked out - you've got yours.

And I guess this movie kind of reminded me that God can't be won. That God is above all that. That if you're Catholic, Pentecostal, Brethren, Emergent, Independent, Democrat, Republican ... it really doesn't matter.

I used to ask my dad, "what does that church believe?" as we'd drive by them when I was a kid. It interested me what the differences were. And I'd feel sorry for them for not getting it right. I'd try to convince my Catholic friends that you don't need to confess to a priest - cause that's what Jesus was for. I'd get so frustrated! (Who do those priests think they are?) A handful of years back a dear friend broke it to me that we weren't getting actual mansions in heaven - that verse in the bible wasn't meant to be taken literal. I was heartbroken! (I don't believe her though). Of course we are getting mansions in heaven - haven't I been giving God updated blueprints every few years? And don't get me started on Creation! If I get up to heaven and God tells me everything was made in billions and trillions of years - let's just say there will be tears in heaven! I'll be so disappointed! And then I'll look over at my dear friend P and she'll shrug her shoulders as if to say, "I told you it could be a possibility!"

That's one of the things I love about my church. There are people of all backgrounds and beliefs. We've got our Lutherans & Methodists, our Catholics and I even hear we have a Jew! I'm sure we have unbelievers too. Maybe even some atheists.

And I must admit it has been kind of challenging to me at times. the Lord's humbled me more than once. I've just got to learn to hold those 5 foundations of the Christian faith close, and be able to say of all the other things, "this is what I believe to be true - but someday I may feel differently". I won't be kicked out of the boat. Because Donald Miller says that Jesus says there is no boat to begin with.

Jesus and Donald Miller are right - there is no boat. So there is no vote.

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That's it for tonight - it's past 11pm again. This topic has a tendency to flow into others. So in true rambling fashion, I just might follow a few in the next few posts.

Update On Rambler Girl

I'm disapointed in her blog. She has 1 post from over a year ago. She took my blog address for only 1 post. I wonder if she stuck it out with the 4th college transfer? What a cliff-hanger!

New Blog Title/New Address

I have been wanting to do this for a while now, just haven't taken the time to figure out how to do it, which really wasn't that hard to figure out it turns out.

Yes, I'm finally going to change that very long blog address and title! But now I'm a little sad about it - I feel like I'm leaving behind a good friend!

I thought I'd better warn you - and for all my friends who are taking a summer blogging break, I hope you get this message.

My new name will be "Rambler Girl". There is a song by Eileen Jewel (folk/swing/bluesy/hint of old rock-n-roll) with the phrase Rambler Girl - it's my theme song (I know, I have so many).

The new blog address will be 1ramblergirl.blogspot.com (as long as it's not taken by then) - can you believe somebody else had ramblergirl.blogspot.com? That's where I'm headed to next. See what kind of girl this girl is.

So I'll make the appropriate changes at the end of the month. Unless it's going to be a pain in the butt for everyone to find it - but it's not like I have very many readers to lose. But if you're worried, email me (you can find my email up above), and leave me your email address and I'll leave you my new address when I get rid of my old address. Okay.

What's Your Reaction?

Reacting to Anne Rice.

The above is a link to Jon Acuff's post on Anne Rice's statesments about being (or not being) called a christain and belonging to the group. I found it very interesting - especially the comments. Thought I'd pass it on to you and maybe get your reaction to it. This kind of goes along with my last post. I really need to write more on that someday:)

Duty Faith

I've got a few pet peeves - turn signal turned on when you aren't turning, stupid questions (because no matter what that teacher said, there is too such a thing as a stupid question), people who have too many pet peeves, children, cornhole & exercise in general, (did I just write children?) ...

My biggest pet peeve are people who portray a perfect package - they've got it all together, they're kind, good, well disciplined, read their bible everyday, go on missions trips, and have never questioned their faith. I especially can't stand mothers of perfect children. Plu-ease.

At least that's what they want everyone to believe about them.

You want to know what draws me to people? People who have more than one dimension to them. People who don't have all the answers and don't need to. People who have experienced hard times and struggled, who wrestled with God yet lived to tell about it. People who are joyous, not just happy.

Do I dare write further? I'm passionate about this subject - but I'm fearful I'll be a hypocrite if I write down the thoughts that I think.

Because I know exactly how to put that good christian mask on. I've worn it well, and it's still my default mode in certain situations. I've been a kid of a pastor, and so there is a certain pressure to preform as one should as a PK. And in a church era of following God out of duty, performance was key.

Ouch. I can hear some of you cringe. (Some of you are just wondering what I'm talking about - "where is she going with this?")

A couple years ago (I can't believe it's been that long!), my dad and I talked about the Church. He told me that throughout it's history, the church has swung from one extreme to the other. Growing up, phrases like "experiencing God's love," or even just "experiencing", was a big no-no. Emotion in faith was to be limited. You can't base your faith on emotion (emotions come and go), and experiencing God was just too charismatic (I'm brethren). I used to pity anybody who were guest musicians at our church - we never clapped for them.

Anyway, (where am I going with this?), I think the pendulum is swinging towards the other side now. Experiencing God's love, experiencing all of God and your faith, is now starting to be encouraged at the pulpit. And not just at the charismatic churches!

Why can't we just stay in the middle? Why does the pendulum have to swing at all?

The benefit of duty faith is that it can easily be measured. By all. The problem of duty faith is that it can deceive you - like it did me. I became arrogant, thinking I knew just about all I could learn about God and the bible. (oh my goodness - did I just admit that?) And didn't my talk and walk just prove that Sunday after Wednesday after Sunday all the days of my life? Surely there is a special placed marked out in heaven for the pastor's sweet daughter who plays classical guitar during special music? (I beat out the kid who played the organ - oh yes I did!)

I don't want to diminish the importance of duty, of work. The bible talks a lot about work (I looked the word up in a concordance), that faith without works is dead (James 2:17). And of course, it would be a scary thing to base my faith and walk with the Lord on only emotion (I'm not sista insane for nothing!).

For me, duty faith was easy. It was predictable. It was in my control. I was doing all the right things. I proved to God and everyone else that I was worth saving.

I held God to the side, locked him up and and desired that he not grow any bigger then the box I put him in. He was much more manageable there. And life was too.

Until.

Until I got married and life took on more dimension. It wasn't all about me. And I realized that nothing is in my control. But that's a lesson he continues to teach me time and time again, and I've even given him a bigger a box! Each struggle we come through, God and I, his box grows bigger and bigger.

The fact is, we're fooling ourselves. And in fooling ourselves we hold God at a distance.

And that's my pet peeve - clinging onto the damn mask instead of onto God.

I'm not done writing on this subject (unless I get a lot of hate mail by good christain masked people). It's already 11pm and I've got to go to work tomorrow. I need my pillow time. I'll continue when the mood strikes again.

(I can't believe I don't own one of their CD's by now - it's a sad thing really. Jack Johnson won out this past purchasing time).

Change

There are some things that I need to change often, like my underwear and the background for this blog. I like change then. So you can always count on me to always change up my underwear and the look of this blog - because change in these cases are good.

I used to always love when we moved into a new house as a kid too - I loved changing houses. I wonder if I would like it as much now?

What about you? Do you like change?

The Sistas Go To Annapolis!

 

  And this was the cute Inn where we stayed – right in the middle of the historical section on State Street.  Isn’t it lovely?

What a fun road trip we had!  We left Saturday morning.  Road trips with my sistas, no matter how short or far away, are always hysterically scary.  The night before, while I was tucking her in, Noel prayed for our trip – that no cars would crash into us.  So it seemed like a foreshadowing of an ill event when we’d find ourselves driving along side of an ambulance from time to time to time.  

I was never to Annapolis before and didn’t realize how much I’d LOVE it!  There’s so much history there!  The roads are so narrow and the houses along side the narrow roads are just adorably OLD.  One historian told us that Annapolis had the most houses (1500) within a 1/3 mile of each other which date back a couple hundred years that are still operational.

This is Main Street.  Besides having such wonderful architecture, Annapolis has many wonderful little shops.  We spent most of yesterday exploring these shops and eating in the restaurants. 

 

 

 

 

We were told that back in the day, when the master of the house wanted to know the news and any information regarding the Revolution, they’d call their servant or slave over and give him a penny, telling him to “go –sip” at the tavern.  He’d have enough money to nurse one drink while overhearing all kinds of information.  Over the decades the term “go – sip” changed to “gossip”. Isn’t that cool?  We learned a lot about the history of where we got our sayings and words.  I absolutely loved it.

 

This was the State building which State Street circles around.  Our Inn is located right across from it.  We toured it this afternoon before we left for home.  I think it is still in use today.  This is where George Washington gave his presidential resignation speech.  We saw the final copy of his speech – he had very nice handwriting. 

My Sistas

This was the back door to the State building.

 

This trip was not only a Sista get-away, but it was the last time the Sistas will all be together until after Christmas.  Sista Speedracer has joined the National Guard with her husband and they go to boot camp for 10 weeks on Monday.  I am so proud of my Sista.

Believing

"Teach us to know that we cannot know, for the things of God knoweth no man. . . . Let faith support us where reason fails, and we shall think because we believe, not in order that we may believe" (A. W. Tozer).

The past couple of weeks have been the toughest weeks of my 9 month journey in this job of mine. To get into the details would be time consuming and tedious. Let me just write that it is very overwhelming to learn a new trade in such a dysfunctional atmosphere, and expectations are way too high much of the time – both mine and the doctor’s.

I’ve been forced to consider what I’ve been saying and writing from the very beginning; that this is God’s job = his baby. He will take care of the details. When it’s time for me to leave, I’ll leave. No matter how that happens and what that looks like.

I believe that with my head. But I’ve had the darndest time believing that with my whole being. I’ve been holding on to this job too tightly. My mentor told me that maybe God wants me to hold this job out to him, loosely in my hands. But I'm afraid that I'll fail - that I'll never be good at it. How humiliating would it be if I failed at this too? There's certainly plenty of opportunities to practice being humble!

My desire and perceived need to control prevents me from holding my job loosely in my hands. I want to know his plans. I fear making mistakes. He's only giving me enough information to live moment by moment, and unfortunately I learn a lot through my mistakes. It seems to be my preferred method of learning.

I guess it all comes down to faith, humbleness and obedience. Will I hold this gift of his loosely? Sometimes I do, and when I can, I find that the stress and my anxiety eases away.

The question is this; how can I get my heart to believe what my head believes?

Crossing The Line

 

I’m talking about personal space.  And how you should not be in it.  Unless you are the person in it that belongs to it.  Then you should be there.  But nobody else should be there, unless you okay it.

We all have a certain circumference around us that belongs to us.   Once an unwanted person breaks through the invisible  “no crossing zone” – we become uncomfortable.  I become claustrophobic and anxious.  My kids become mean to one another.

Don’t cross the line. 

We have invisible lines all over the house and car.  The crevice between the sofa cushions provide a visible line – don’t you dare stick your leg over the line into Noel’s space.  Especially if your name is Ethan.  The car has a large DMZ (demilitarized zone) in between the two backseat cushions – the middle cushion.  Neither kid is allowed to access the DMZ. 

And even Jason and I have a line in bed – though we argue about it almost every night.  We have not come to an agreement on where the line is.  (We don’t like to cross the line to the other because Hubby gets too hot, and my bones poke and hurt him, and I need the freedom to move and fresh air = no cuddling for us).  Jason thinks that His larger body indicates a need for a larger space in bed.   I think that for once, my small size has given me an advantage and the line should be split right down the center.  It’s not my fault he takes up more room than I do!  I’m tired of all the tall people having the advantage in life.  It’s time the short ones stand up and claim their advantages where they can find them – and I found one!  He thinks I should be closer to the edge of the bed  in order to give his body more room.  I can’t help it that I roll toward the center – it’s hard to sleep on top of a slope! 

So how do you vote?  Who wins the line war? 

Rocking Chairs and Good Friends

I have a dream. It's a dream for when I'm old. Not only for me, but for my Sistas as well - although I did not check with them to see if they approve of my dream. But they don't have a choice. I'm assuming our husbands will not out live any of us, so we can all be together when we're 90. We will, for some reason that I have not dreamed up yet, live in the South. We'll live in a plantation-like nursing home. And our favorite past-time will be sitting on the wide plantation porch overlooking the Mississippi (I just love spelling that word) river, sipping sweet tea or lemonade, talking in Southern accents, being combative (I can't wait to hit people), and just living the leisurely life. I can't wait to gossip about Grace Blessing who lives up on the 3rd floor - who's fake boobs have slid down beneath her rib cage. I can't wait to get my tree tattoo, by then my body will have "settled" and there will be no more guess work about the best place to put it. I will finally write my book - for then the guy that I'm going to base it off of will be long dead and I won't have to worry about being sued. I'll even use his real name. My Sistas and I will take up sharp-shooting. We'll go on bus trips to Dollywood. I'll learn braille.

"I Will Find Your Lie"

Due to certain Dish reception problems, we have been without TV for the past couple of days. Jason has found a website with free promo codes for Blockbuster kiosk videos, so we've been taking turns picking out movies. I picked out the typical death, depravity, and depressing movie the first night with "The Lovely Bones", and Jason picked a terrorist movie called, "Unthinkable," for last night.

I didn't like "Unthinkable" as much as I liked the movie I picked out - I think they could have played up the circumstances a bit more, developed the characters a little more, and tried to make me believe everything a little bit more. But all was not lost in viewing the movie, there was one quote, made by the negotiator (who used very nasty ways of trying to gain truth from the terrorist), that made the movie worth viewing.

The scene had taken place inside a metal room, with the terrorist strapped in a chair, his finger tips chopped off, burn marks on his body from electrocution, and other really awful things - inhumane things, marking his body as well. The terrorist planted 3 nuclear bombs in 3 unknown cities in the U.S., ready to detonate in a couple days. The job of the negotiator was to do whatever it took to get the location of the the 3 bombs. The terrorist told the negotiator that he was prepared for whatever was to take place. The negotiator became angry and agitated and told him,

"Every man lies to himself about something. I will find your lie, and I will tear you down."

Okay, this got my attention. I immediately thought of Satan. He spends his time trying to find our lies and tearing us a part with them. He uses our internal talk, our negative internal talk, against us. He's had how many thousands of years of human study to know the weaknesses of us. He tries and tries again to find our lies. And when he reaches upon one, he will expose them and promote them, he will tear us down and paralyze us with them.

But they're lies never-the-less, and what Satan will always fail to realize is that he is on the losing side. He will always be on the losing side. And we, because we belong to the Lord, are on the winning side. And though Satan may drop us to our knees at times, he will never keep us down.

Because he's the loser. And we're on the winning team. The living team. Death surrounds Satan, but life and light surrounds our Lord. And even in the darkest of our times, the Lord will reach down and bring us to him.

I know this. I've experienced it. And I'm placing all my bets that he will do so again, time and time again.

We Actually Had Fun

Who goes camping in 100 degree weather - without air condition? Only the extremists. And I am proud to say, we earned our hot air extreme camping badge over the course of the last 3 days.

We have earned a few camping badges over the years - the wild windy badge being one of them, earned this past mother's day. The extreme cold air camping badge was earned a couple years ago in October with temperatures around 40 degrees - during the day, even colder at night.

How does one stay in a solid state while camping in extreme liquifying conditions? You set your camp chair in the middle of the Juniata river, well, not quite middle, and you sit there until you need a change of scenery. Then you move to the pool. Unfortunately, the pool is not as cool as the 85 degree river, so you'll need to move back to the Juniata after about 45 minutes or so.

The most horrifyingly hottest time of day is supper time. Cooking over the grill is torture, even just watching someone cook over the grill is torture. Flipping the potatoes in the fire is death defying. I'm not sure if it was the food that attracted all the flies or our river muck, sweat drenched bodies. At one point I looked over at my nephew, Colby, who was holding a smoking punk stick with an obnoxious fly sitting on it - how mocking of the thing. In 100 degree weather toilet paper sticks to your ass like Scotch tape to gift wrap. You don't care about things like make-up, or hair style, or even deodorant. All is useless in 100 degree weather.

Thank goodness the night air was cool enough for us to fall asleep. Unfortunately, right across the Juniata river is an active train track - most active at night. It's so close that we can hear the ground vibrate. And if the sound of the vibration doesn't wake us, the train's whistle will. So kind of the conductor to whistle as it passes the campground in the wee hours of the morning. So kind.

We're home now. We left around 8 pm. It was still 90 degrees at 9 pm. Crazy hot. But we would have loved 90 degree weather while camping.

Tomorrow, I'm going to spend the day doing house work in the air condition. Life can't get any better than that.

There Is A Season - Part 2

(read this post only after you read the 1st)

This past Sunday my parents were commissioned as missionaries to Viet Nam. Their job is to raise awareness of the need to bring the gospel to this unreached people group and funds to the full-time missionaries who have just settled there. They will take short-term trips to Viet Nam as well. Their heart is with the Viet Nam people, as well as the outcasted Cambodian people living in Viet Nam.

Now that I am an adult with a family of my own, I have a different perspective on my growing up years. I can better understand the different seasons that we go through during our life - the growth that God instigates. I am learning that God creates inside each of us different passions, passions that he wants to use for his glory and purpose. I have to admit, there were times during my life that I was angry and jealous of "the ministry" because it took so much attention away from me. But just look at my parents now - I can't help but admit that God has them where he wants them, just as he's always had them where he wants them.

As I listened to my first pastor talk about my parents during their commission service, I thought about Indiana, Vermont, and the years here in York, all the places that my parents were heavily involved in the ministry. I thought about how God created a passion inside my parents, how my mom supported my dad, and the courage they had in following Him.

They've been through a lot in the years since they've been married - 36+ years ago. I am so proud of them. I have always been so proud of them. They've been an inspiration in following the passion God's created inside of them, no matter what the obstacles are and the outcome is.

For Everything There Is A Season

In 1970, the United States was still at war with Vietnam. My dad was drafted during that time. He was part of the 101st Airborne. He was part of a battle called Ripcord. They fought taking a strategic hill, fought to keep that hill, and fought trying to stay alive as they were evacuating the hill, losing it to the enemy. It is said to have been the last major battle, and the bloodiest, of the war.

And my dad survived.

I asked my dad once, when I was a kid, if he believed in guardian angels.

He told me about a time when he was a soldier in Vietnam. It was night, he dug a fox hole for himself. At some point he heard something. He looked up to find the enemy, who was unaware of dad's presence, not far away. Dad had just enough time to shoot his gun, from the hip, in the direction of the NVA. The next morning he saw that he shot the enemy in the forehead. A hipshot which was that accurate, without sighting in.

My dad gave me a book entitled, Ripcord - Screaming Eagles Under Siege, Vietnam 1970, by Keith W. Nolan. I can only read bits and pieces throughout it - it's a hard read. And I really don't like envisioning my dad in such a scary place and time. But it has made me realize that it is by God's protection and will that my dad survived.

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My dad once told me that although 5 years might seem like a long time to me (I was a teenager), that in all truth and reality 5 years goes quickly. It's a blink in time.

I wonder if he was surprised to find himself, just 5 years after the war, as a new believer, a husband, and a father of 2 sons? Funny how life can change with a blink.

My dad grew a lot, as a new believer. He's always been a thinker, he loves to study. When I was 4 years old, we moved to Indiana so that my dad could go to seminary.

We moved to Vermont when I was 7. Dad and mom started a church in Stowe. Two years later we returned to York.

My parents have always been heavily involved in "the ministry". It's been a road with a lot of ups and downs. My heart goes out to anybody who finds themselves involved in the ministry.

I don't know when God stirred my dad's heart to go back to Vietnam. But I think it was in 2001 that my parents recieved the approval from the Grace Brethren mission board to travel to Vietnam, under the pretense of teaching English at a college. I didn't think my mom would like Vietnam at all. Boy, was I surprised when they came back and mom told me she loved it and the people! And of course my dad was captivated as well.

Over the next few years, my parents led a few teams, made up of their church members mainly, to Vietnam, introducing that world to the Grace Brethren mission board. They've insisted that this was a place where their focus should be - this unreached people group. This year the board agreed, approving a family for full-time missionary status there, and my parents as part-time missionaries. This has been my parent's passion and dream.

This is a picture of my parent's being commissioned to go to Vermont, to start a home-mission's church.