Visions of Coconut Pies and Seafood Chowder

For so many years, we celebrated quiet, simple Christmases in Africa - away from family and things familar. The quiet and simple of African Christmases, I miss very much. But spending the holidays with family is a gift exceeding anything that can be wrapped and put under the tree.

We just returned from two days in the place where I learned to drive, had my first kiss, and raced my brother's dune buggy down the road without his permission. The place of my heart. It still holds a special magic for me. Probably more so than ever because I am not exposed to its charms on a daily basis. A mere burp in the road, my hometown does not even boast of a stoplight or grocery store, though we do have a post office and a gas station. However, it has not been influenced by metropolitan growth or urban sprawl. It's still a pure, quiet, clean place on this earth. When we arrived on Thursday night, my comment to my family was, "You all are so lucky that I was raised down here in this quiet and peaceful place so that we can step out of the city during the holidays and just relax." We joke that my parents' house must have some atmospheric drug stealing its way through the house, because when you enter it, you simple want to breath slower, think less, and sleep more. It's a wonderful feeling!

My mother put out a showcase of holiday delights this afternoon. She methodically and purposefully planned it all out, preparing a little at a time until by this evening, her dining room table was ladened with a fresh fruit tray with cheeses, a relish trays with everything from pickled okra to cherry peppers, a delectable seafood chowder seasoned with my homemade herbes de provence (that I took out of a basket of goodies I had prepared for her), chicken wings, potato skins, spinach dip with crackers, a crab dip, pecan and coconut pies, and a pineapple upside down pound cake. Made last week were several holiday tins filled with peanut butter balls, sausage balls, chocolate chip cookies, ambrosia cookies, chocolate covered pretzels, and cheese krispy balls. The delightful myriad of foods prepared especially and exclusively for her family touched me like nothing else.

My mother is the finest example of creating Christmas memories and doing it well that I have ever seen! As I lay my head down on my own pillow in my own bed back in the bright, bustling city that I now call home, my heart is telling me something different.

There's never gonna be another place like where I was these past two days and the lady who made it so special for all of us is one of the greatest gifts on this side of the cross!!

Sweet dreams..........make some memories worth remembering!

All I Want For Christmas is.......

Recently someone gave us a mouse pad for the computer that has these thoughts inscribed on it:
Out of clutter find Simplicity
Out of discord find Harmony
In the middle of difficulty lies Opportunity
Profound thoughts that do not seem so easily attainable at times, but I do think I've lived enough life to understand their potential.

Thankfully, the clutter in my house was put to rest on Saturday -- out of the sheer reality that I had 22 people coming to my house that night! So, at least the downstairs has simplicity!

This is not really the season for discord, but is there really a season for discord? However, always being able to find harmony is a little difficult too. It takes a daily, monumental effort to keep things harmonious in our lives and hearts. Why? 'Cause we're human, that's why. There are some people that I just love being around. They build me up, appreciate me for who I am, and encourage me to be even more. They exude the aroma of Christ and His peace. Then there are those who only have critical things to say at every turn, never taking time to look at the good in those that should be most precious to them. If given the choice: which of those would you choose to be around? Which do we choose to be?

I do believe that there is opportunity in every situation, every minute, every day. Often we allow them to slip by for a myriad of reasons. But I do like the reminder that, even in the hard things, there is a beautiful opportunity waiting to be discovered!!

So, if I had my wish, all I would want for Christmas is the simplicity of family and friends, harmony in those relationships, and having the wisdom to see all the great opportunities in this tilted world of mine!!!

The Politics of Christmas Sunday Services

Today I read an article on Fox News' website in which a writer out of D.C. was lamenting the fact that many "megachurches" were cheating their parishioners out of Christmas worship this year. Some churches were cutting out their Sunday service altogether and others were cutting back to one service on Christmas Day. The author speculated on this movement and even quoted a scholar from Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, who was also disturbed by how many evangelical churches were buying into the "consumer" pleasing agenda.

Two things stand out here: first, he specifically indicated that he was concerned about the megachurches doing this. As a matter of fact, the title of the article is: Some Megachurches to Close on Christmas. http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,177908,00.htmlNever mind the small, medium, and large churches that are most likely doing the same thing -- it only seemed to matter to him that the supersized churches were doing this fiendish thing. Or perhaps it was just more obvious because he was able to go to websites and find the information. Still, I find it a little odd that he specifically discussed only the largest of the large evangelical churches in America and their Christmas Sunday happenings

Secondly, he tooted the fact that most Catholic churches were having their services as usual and would, in fact, have some of their most highly attended services that day. There was a quote that there was a stark contrast between the loosening of evangelical values and how the Episcopal, Lutheran, and Methodist churches very rarely cancel any services for any reason. (Does this indicate a leaning of the author towards a particular denomination?)

He quoted a staff pastor in a large church up north as saying that it was not a good use of their time or staff when the numbers would be so incredibly down. When put like that, even I seethed a little at how calculating and coldhearted the decision sounded. Having worked in West Africa for many years and perhaps not having a balanced or even entirely knowledgeable view of how things work in megachurches in the U.S., I still offer this observation. My Heavenly Father owns a cattle on a thousand hills and no where in the Bible do I recall the principle of withholding because WE feel it is not large enough, not beneficial enough, not financially or socially pleasing enough, or not conducive to our schedules to perform what we know is right. Are some evangelical churches sending a negative, testimony-damaging signal to society that we are sold out, committed only to our calling when it does not socially interfere with something as major as Christmas (which by the way, unless you are an ostrich, the defense of Christmas and being able to use the term has been in the forefront of debate for weeks now.) Now, after we have regained the general consensus that we can indeed have Christmas back to enjoy as we always have, are we reacting as ordinary society and watering down our commitments for the sake of the very Christmas traditions that we have been defending?

As I said before, I have a very different perspective on these kind of things, and would like to say that I am glad that I am not the one in charge of making the calls of canceling or diminishing the amount of services we will have. In the past two weeks, I have been in two different churches (my home church and another one) and the very same announcement concerning Christmas Day was given. There would be one main service in the later morning, but all other services would be cancelled. I looked for reactions of disbelief, dismay, or discontent, but found none in either church. It's a sure-fire sign that our churches are rubbing shoulders closer to the "world" than we could ever imagine.

On the other hand, God did create families and deems that we give our families the respect due to them as an ordained gift from Him. Christmas is the perfect, traditional time to do this. Most people travel during this holiday, and the switching out of the services really helps. In 1994 when Christmas fell on Sunday, we were not in the U.S., so I cannot compare the reaction of today and then. But somehow I do not believe there was half the stink that we are seeing and hearing this year about Christmas. I would be curious if anyone remembers anything about the trends of the 1994 Christmas Sunday.

I personally feel that scaling down to one service on Christmas Sunday is not, in the sight of God, the abomination that some would make it. In the right spirit of worship and correct attitude, it can be just as honoring to God as if we scheduled four services on one Sunday! (But I could be wrong and only perceiving it in a totally "American" viewpoint). However, I do think we dance close to legalism and living by the letter of the law when we get caught up in the number of times we worship on a given Sunday. God is much, much more concerned about our heart attitude!

In Africa, the focus of Christmas was on the person of Jesus Christ, and in the absence of the means to celebrate in any monetary way, church services were the gifts. The West Africans looked forward to the Christmas services like none other. Even when Christmas was on another day of the week, they still believed in having a Christmas service so that they could offer their praises and adoration to their Savior.

No matter when your service might be scheduled or even if there's not one scheduled, don't let that become your focus. Do not forget that worship always starts in the heart. Open your heart to the Holy One that offers eternal life and abundant peace to you this Christmas season!!

Without Asking

My mission to get all my Christmas decorations down from their resting place concluded without a shot fired from my well-planned armory. My oldest daughter and her husband came over Monday night (just in time for dinner :) and said they wanted to help us get the decorations downstairs without me asking. I was pleasantly surprised! My mind started thinking that I hadn't even made the chocolate dessert that was to entice and behold my chocoholics (the other three) to my well-laid plans to interject the Christmas spirit into the drudgery of dragging down boxes! However, my oldest daughter is not a chocoholic and her husband just likes food, so steak, sweet potatoes, and a fresh salad was good enough for them. Is this what it's like to have grown kids? Just showing up to help out the parents? I'm liking it, believe me, even though it has been hard to accept the constant change in my household from children to teenagers to college students to married children. I used to tell my girls that they would one day pay rent for the "nine months" of incubation I gave them. This is a great start! :)

So, now my house is in pleasant chaos - I'm using that term for my own sanity. Boxes and boxes of Christmas "stuff" is strewn around my living and dining room. The Christmas tree stands in its place, naked and cold, calling out to be adorned in holiday splendor, but there's just not a moment for that yet. Maybe tomorrow. My world is tilted to the extreme right now!

Our bathroom is under major repair, not because we just have extra money and decided to redo it. When shower tiles start falling off the walls without asking, well, that's not a good thing. The water damage behind those tiles was atrocious, so I guess if you look at it that way, the rebel tiles actually did us a favor! So, our Christmas this year is a nice newly-tiled shower, freshly painted bathroom, and let's just throw in some new flooring while we're at it. Ho, ho, ho!

Thanks, shower tiles for revealing the problem behind the walls (there's got to be a spiritual implication here) and thanks, Shell and Frank, for helping me out "without me asking" to get my Christmas decorations down!

I'm wondering if I do enough for people without them having to ask me?

Mission Complete?

I returned yesterday from the "home of my heart" along with my youngest daughter, oldest daughter, and her husband. My youngest daughter, who is 15, drove a good bit of the way down on Wednesday night. However, I cannot take credit for all the bravado of letting her drive. My steel-nerved, chilvarous son-in-law offered to ride in the front with Lauren as she drove. Of course, I tried to talk him out of it (for about 5 seconds) and blissfully crawled in the backseat with my oldest. The only mistake was that I sat on the passenger side of the backseat, where I could see the speedometer and anything else I probably didn't want to see.

She did fine. And, shucks, about the time we had traveled halfway, it turned 9:00 p.m. (the first six months, a permitted driver can only drive from 5 a.m. to 9 p.m.). Lauren is a literalist and also one of those rare teenagers that actually obeys the rules and doesn't generally ask questions. (My other two were NEVER like that!) However, when 9:00 came and Lauren announced that she could no longer drive that night, I felt benevolent enough to whomever made that rule to send them a gift card and bake them a cake!!

Now the next week looms in front of me, and I find it full of various projects and challenges. Do I dare mention bringing downstairs the pile of boxes that hold my Christmas decorations? Why does my family become paralyzed, disappear, or get down in their backs when I mention that project? I remember last year, right after Thanksgiving, feeling the "spirit" and wanting to start decorating right then. I tried every thing possible to transfer my Christmas "spirit" to all or even a couple of my family members, but they would not budge. I ended up sputtering to myself upstairs, making noise as I heaved the boxes (the heaving sounds I made were probably a little exaggerated compared to the weight of the boxes, but it felt good!) out of the storage closet, and making an attempt to bring stuff down by myself. By the time the boxes were downstairs (with the half-hearted help of my family), the Christmas spirit had sprinted out of this house!

So, this year, I will not rush it, and I will plan it better. I will set the mood, play the music, and fill their bellys. Also, considering the three others who reside in this house right now and their weakness for chocolate, I will come up with some magnificent "Death By Chocolate" dessert -- only to be eaten AFTER all the Christmas boxes are downstairs! If that sounds conniving, well, it probably is, but I'm a woman on a mission!!

"Permitted" Thankfulness

After living almost twenty years in West Africa for most holidays, and knowing that we wouldn't be "home for Christmas" or "go over the river and through the dale to Grandma's house", it's nice to be so close to loved ones. My folks only live 3 - 31/2 hours (depending on who's driving) from here, so it's a pretty easy hop for me to get on a nice four-lane for most of the way and head towards the pines, the swamp, and two of the most amazing people on this earth!

My husband and I usually split up every Thanksgiving, but reconcile a couple of days later! It's just a family tradition by now. By "split up", I mean that he stays with his family here while I take whichever of the girls want to go with me and head east for Thanksgiving. I come from a small family anyway - just my brother and I with our five kids collectively. Since my brother passed away four years, I feel that it's important (for me and my folks) that we spend as much time together as possible.

So this evening after my oldest daughter gets off work, she, her husband, my youngest, and I will head to the home of my heart. Usually 3 hours isn't a long trip (especially after traveling 18-20 hour treks to Africa back and forth for many years), but this time will be different - hopefully for the last time. Our youngest daughter is 15 and has her driver's permit - some of you know what that means. She wants to drive the WHOLE way to MawMaw's. This will be her first long road trip....and how in the world did we plan this on one of the busiest traveling holidays of the year??

Funny how we as parents are at times. I have already given her two ultimatums today (she calls them threats and bribes), hoping that she would fall through on at least one of them so that I could say, "Sorry, remember when I told you to do such-and-such and you didn't? Well, now you can't drive the WHOLE way to MawMaw's." But, no, this redheaded beautiful daughter of mine is both relentless and obedient! She's been a saint today, amazingly helpful and cheerful, and as focused on her goal as my husband is on a bowl of Breyer's chocolate ice cream after dinner. "So, mom, do I get to drive with you in the front or are you going to put Michelle or Frank in the front with me?" Inside I'm saying, Oh honey, I'll be riding in the trunk with the luggage, draining the last of the Nyquil bottle, so it won't matter to me!

No, seriously, I like the permit concept (even though when I was 15, I saw it a little more constricting). If we as parents will use those 365 days as the potential training ground that it is meant to be, more kids would be better prepared and have more confidence when it's time to cut the string and let them on the highway alone. (Why does that always bring cold chills to me?) But instead, many either hardly ever allow their teenager to drive (because it's never the right time or the parent just can't take it today) OR we spend the entire time they are behind the wheel making wheezing sounds, bellowing noises like bulls, screeching, and wearing out the carpet on the passenger side. We develop heart arrhythmias, ulcers, and migraines during that year. Grant it, it's a very difficult time for all!

Add that to driving in the dark, in the rain, the snow, and the nightmare of all permit-jangled parents, ICE, and you can develop symptoms of strokes, digestive problems, and Parkinson's disease all in one hour!! But, if they don't learn how to drive in those treacherous situations WITH us, how will they react in those same situations when they are WITHOUT us?

So, tonight, for three LONG hours, in the midst of holiday traffic, 30 miles on a windy country road, and darkness, I will rise to the occasion (gulp) and give thanks for this teaching opportunity that could perhaps potentially help save my daughter's life one day!

How thankful I am for all my family!!

Mock Trial

Yesterday (Saturday), I spent a good part of my day at the county courthouse with my youngest daughter as she participated with her "criminal justice team" from her Public Speaking & Debate class. It was a somewhat well-organized event with ten local schools competing for the accolades of being the best team to perform in a mock trial. For weeks all teams at the ten schools reviewed the same case, created questions for the witnesses, and practiced their procedures and court protocol in class. Day after day after day. There was a team of three prosecutors or three defense attorneys and three witnesses from each group. Everything was rehearsed except for the cross-examination questions from the other "lawyers" from another team. That's when the rubber met the road. It's easy to learn by rote memory, learn by experience and practice, but then the unfamilar, the unexpected, the unrehearsed comes and we are in a completely different ballgame.

I was not a judge, but I would imagine that a good majority of the points given would come from the ability to handle the pressure of being cross-examined. The witnesses that could handle the pressure, would not buckle under the scrutiny of the "opposing" lawyers, could keep their cool and stick to their story, would be the ones that would gain a hefty amount of points. In addition, the lawyer who could redirect questions after a particularly harmful cross examination in a powerful and pointed way, would take the competition to the next level.

Our kids represented themselves well, even though they did not win any accolades (other than from the extremely biased parents present). I talked with my daughter on the way home (always looking for those powerful parenting moments) about the rehearsed and the unrehearsed things in life. When we are absorbed in Christ and His Word, even the unexpected can be handled with dignity and a grace that cannot be defined any other way except - incredible!!

Life is not a mock trial. It's the real thing and even though we may do everything to prepare ourselves for it, there are those times when the cross examinations can be baffling, overwhelming, and downright cruel! Thankfully, we have a Savior who has lived through his own real criminal trial, perhaps the cruelest and most unfair in history, but He also has the answers before we even know the questions! I personally want Him on my side in the courtroom of life!

Undone

This week I have been in somewhat of a fog. There's probably several reasons for that, but the fact remains that I settled into it way too easily. By yesterday, I was straining with the flesh and losing. Last night after a planning meeting with some of our college singles who have great vision, I drove home smiling at their passion and enthusiasm for Christ. I popped in one of my favorite CDs by "Mercy Me". They have a song on their CD by the same name, "Undone". The chorus goes like this: "I run to the cross lifting high my chains undone, Free, free to be what I've become -- Undone." It was a poignant reminder that we do not have to remain in the fog, we do not have to live defeated, we do not have to live tired and sluggish. There is a Savior who has freed us from ourselves and the chains that we keep putting back around our hands.

I just needed that last night. I am so thankful to be Undone. Undone from the chains of sin and defeat. The power to live above my flesh and this world is with me all the time. I just have to remind myself to ask for it and then take it!

Undone. The potential of that one word is huge.

Dream On

Do you believe in dreams? Perhaps even that question gives you the hibby-jibbies (is that how you spell that?) to think of the mystical world of dreams. As a fundamental Baptist (since I was in the nursery), I will admit that I had a hard time coming to grips with the possibility that God could still use dreams for His glory.

I would like to qualify upfront that I do not believe in dreams as taking the place of God's Word. God's Word is final. No amount of prophesying, or "words from the Lord" should ever replace or usurp the Word of God. After saying all that, I will relate that I believe God still can communicate to mankind in any form He chooses.

Please refer back to a recent blog named "Being in Place" to read a true-to-life story that happened to me back in 1997 while a missionary in a small town in Ivory Coast, West Africa. The man that asked me to show him the way to God only knew to request that of me because of a dream that he had almost two years before that.

Amos was sick with TB and was being transported to a Red Cross clinic in a nearby town. It was nighttime and he was lying in the back of a pickup truck. He said that he was feeling very sick and began thinking that he might die soon. It scared him to think that he didn't really know the Creator that he had always believed existed, but never took the time to seek out. However, that night he cried out to this Creator. He told God that he didn't know how to find Him and that he wanted to live long enough to do that. Soon he was lulled to sleep by the motion of the truck on the gravel road and he dreamed. In the dream, he said that he was in a small town, and he walked past a blue car. Beside the blue car was standing a white woman holding a Bible. Amos said that it was clear that this woman standing beside this blue car would be the one showing him the one to God. Almost two years later, he was passing by my blue car at the same time I was walking to it. I will never forget the look on his face as he quickly looked from me to the car and back to me. Amos said that he didn't even know that white people lived in that town, but that anytime he saw a blue car, he did always look for a white woman! This was my first understanding that God will reveal Himself and communicate to those who truly are seeking Him - in whatever way He chooses.

Back about four years ago, we were in another larger town in Ivory Coast. This town was large enough to have actually three grocery stores. I dreaded to go to the grocery stores because you had to deal with the endless numbers of beggars perched by the parking lots; and then there were the young teenage boys who made their living by helping you find a parking spot and then "guarding" your car while you were in the supermarket. Actually, it is more like, if you didn't pay them a little bit, you might come out to find your car damaged in some way. To simplify my life, I chose one young man and told him that he would always be my "car guard". His name was Gameau. There were days that I even got agitated with Gameau, but it was better than dealing with different ones every time I needed to shop.

One night, after a particularly difficult shopping experience where I left without giving Gameau anything except a piece of my mind (gasp! missionaries losing their tempers on the field??), I slept and dreamed that about 10-15 years had passed and a man came up to me, carrying a Bible under his arms and smiling at me. He said that he was Gameau, and that he was now a pastor. He thanked me for telling him about Jesus those many years ago. Then I awoke, crying and feeling utter shame because I had NEVER, up to that day, told Gameau anything about Jesus Christ. I was always so intent on my discomfort when I arrived at the supermarket; Satan had used that as a shield to what should have been the most important thing to ever relay to Gameau -- or any of those boys! Good news: I went straight back to the store the next day and invited Gameau to church. He started attending the French services and was soon saved! Since then a civil war has erupted in Ivory Coast, but I'm assured that if Gameu still lives, God is still preparing him for great things. Whatever the reason for the dream, call it my conscience or bad pepperoni, I am thankful for the message relayed on that night in that way!

Both Amos and Gameau will be in Heaven with me one day. If those specific dreams helped to etch the way for them, then I say Glory to God.

God's Sense of Humor

Not even 48 hours after I had written that last blog did I experience one of those defining moments when my day was derailed right in the middle of the busiest, most crucial part of it!! I was at Sam's buying last minute items for our on-campus Bible study. I had dropped my youngest daughter and a friend off at a nearby dollar store to finish their Operation Christmas Child shopping. As I was loading the cases of bottled waters, salsa, Velvetta cheese, and other items into the trunk, I laid my keys down IN the trunk along with the receipt. (If this sounds familar, it's because you have been reading my blogs for the past three weeks!! see:When It's All Locked Up Inside) And, yes, once again my hand reacted much quicker than my brain, I closed the trunk, and within seconds, gasped and sputtered all over the parking lot as I realized what I had done. It was 4:30 and I knew we needed to leave from our house in 75 minutes, all packed up, ready for the Bible study. Sheepishly, I called and told my husband what I had done, and quietly, very quietly, he asked where I was and said he was on his way. (He really does deserve a medal for how he handled that)

So, there I stood in the Sam's parking lot, looking idiotically, but accurately like a woman who had locked herself out of her car. Then it hit me. The previous blog, the derailment of our plans, and what God might want to do through me. My heart rate intensified as I again had a purpose. I scanned the parking lot like a hungry person would scan a dumpster behind a restaurant! Who needed me in the parking lot of Sam's? What did I have to offer this moment of time?

I watched an older black woman slowly push her buggy to the trunk of her car. As she started loading her half dozen large cans of baked beans and other large items, she looked over at me and said, "So, you're locked out, are you?" (Well, I knew it was obvious, but really!!!) "Yes, ma'am, I guess it's easy to see that, isn't it?" She laughed as she heaved another can from her buggy. By this time, I had meandered my way over and had started helping her with the loading. "Oh, don't worry about it, honey. I did the exact same thing the other day. Locked those keys right in the trunk with my load. Now, I gots me a spare key in my pocketbook, 'cause I always has my pocketbook on my arm." (great idea, I mused) We talked a little more, and I found our conversation both comforting and strengthening. She blessed me without really doing anything particular. Just by being a warm, friendly, encouraging person.

As she started to get in her car, she smiled at me and thanked me for helping her. In my heart, I was thinking, No ma'am, I think you helped me today. So, okay. Another lesson learned today. Sometime the hiccup in my schedule might not be for me to bless or help anyone; it actually might just be a moment that God wants to reach down and touch or bless me through the life of someone else. How could I EVER be too busy for that??

Being In Place

It's finally dawning on me after all these years! It's not always what I know or even what I say; it's IF I am in the right place at the right time. God can do amazing things without me, but He delights in doing them with me. So often the detours of a day turns us into huffing-puffing, palpitating, out-of-kilter humans who could not see a God-sent opportunity at that moment if our life depended on it! However, it is often when we find ourselves displaced and disoriented by a sudden turn of the day, that God desires to use us. Let me repeat that - for it's good stuff: at the precise moment when we are scratching our heads and trying to figure our way out of a situation, it is often at that moment, when we need to stand still, cock our heads, listen and observe what God is doing. It's an ecliptic moment when we could perhaps see God move in an almost tangible way.

However, it is true what they say that "hindsight is better than foresight" and it's no less true with this scenario. Tomorrow we might look back on what happened and analyze the players in that scene; suddenly realizing that we probably were supposed to have acted it out in a different way. "Carpe Diem" is perhaps the best advice that can be given here. Seizing that very moment with both hands, both ears, and with our whole heart, is a sure way of "making much of Jesus" during those times when our daily train is derailed by unexpected dilemmas.

Almost ten years ago I found myself in that kind of situation. Stricken with an acute and fierce plight of hypoglycemia (low blood sugar) while serving as a missionary in West Africa, I struggled to eat balanced meals and keep my blood sugar level at a healthy high. We were in the middle of an evangelistic campaign, teaching the Africans how they could witness to their neighbors. I had taken a group of four ladies on a two-hour teaching session, going door-to-door witnessing to other ladies. Soon I broke out in a cold sweat and my insides began shaking from the plummeting blood sugar level. Knowing that I would be in bad shape if I did not get something to eat soon, I graciously (or at least I hope it was gracious) left the four ladies to finish the rounds. They most likely did not understand my need to eat in the middle of the afternoon, but there was no changing it. As I walked back to my car, I kicked some pebbles in the middle of the path and succumbed to an extreme case of self-pity. The book of Lamentations could not have exuded more sorrow and hopelessness as I whined to God (in my heart, thankfully, not outloud). But, as I reached my car, a man passing by me, stopped short and turned to face me with a look of disbelief on his face. He told me (mind you, he did not ask me) that I would show him the way to God that day. On another day, I will explain more about how he knew that I could show him to God.

But the point to this blog is that I was there at the exact time when he was passing by my car. The need to eat and bring my blood sugar back up to par was the reason for me going back to my car. God's timing is always impeccable, and all He asks of us is that we be in place. Be in place to watch Him weave His amazing work through us to a world that is in desperate need of something amazing!!

Too Busy To Die

Today while eating my Tongue Torch wings at Zaxby's, a sign on the wall caught my eye. It read, "I know that God created me to do many things before I die; but I'm so far behind, I think I will never be able to die!!" A true assessment of this past week!!

But in spite of the aggressive and demanding schedule in the past eight days, I want to count my blessings. For strength to do what I have had to do. For the breath to experience all that I have seen this past week. For friends and others that love God as much (or more than I do). For the Creator of this magnificent world where the crescendo of greens, blues, pinks, oranges, and reds can all be displayed in unified measure for our enjoyment!

Busy? you bet. Overwhelmed? my middle name. Satisfied? completely.

Celebrating 50

This weekend I'm heading to the home of my heart and heritage, the place where my Barbie dolls, playhouse, and 8 tracks still reside. My mother's sister and her husband (to me: Uncle Jack and Aunt Bog) are celebrating 50 years of marriage! I'm glad that their one daughter and two sons see the extreme value in this milestone and are giving a country "shindig" in their honor. They are not your typical family, but even as I write those words, I laugh. I don't think I have ever met a "typical" family. Each family has its own nuances , its own unique flavors and smells and weirdnesses. (Is that really a word?) Anyway, you know what I mean. Uncle Jack and Aunt Bog are of the old school that teaches you stick it out no matter what. Through Uncle Jack's father committing suicide, their two sons' divorces and all the unwelcomed baggage that comes with those situations, to Aunt Bog's breast cancer and near-death experience with a blood clot in her lungs, they stuck it out.

Now it's time to celebrate what they have lived and how they have loved! But most of all, we celebrate their commitment to God's ordained sanctity of the marriage vows. My husband and I have been married 24 years and that in itself is enough for me to realize that living with someone 50 years is twice the pain and frustration, but it's also twice the pleasure, twice the loving. Ah! Amour! Methinks it is worth the bumps in the road to get to the place of celebrating 50 years!


Very warm anniversary wishes, Aunt Bog and Uncle Jack! I'll be there with bells on!

When It's All Locked Up Inside

Almost three years ago, my husband wisely invested in AAA coverage and motorist assistance. I concurred with his reasoning since we had three daughters, and two of them were of driving age, it would be a good thing to do. Who knows how many times they may lock their keys in the car, run out of gas, have a flat tire? It's good to know they can get help when they need it. Yep, good for the daughters to have it.

So, now I need to stop beating around the bush and relate to you that in the past two and a half years, I have been the only one to need to call AAA -- both times because I locked my keys in the car! The first time was when we first moved into the house we are in now. That wasn't a big deal. I was still in town. But the most recent one was this past Friday night on the way back from my daughter's volleyball game. I was traveling to my parent's mountain house from the game and had stopped to gas up for an unbelievable and irresistible price of $2.69 per gallon!! I took my keys out of the ignition, laid them down on the seat while I got out my debit card, and then got out of the car, locked the door, and that is when the metal of the keys caught my eye!

You know how that goes. I'm closing the door as I'm seeing the keys and my brain was shouting, "Keys inside on seat!! Keys not in your hand!" However, the connectors between my brain and body just do not function as they did when I was younger. So, I'm standing outside my car at a gas pump in the middle of a very small town at 9:30 at night. I have a Triple A card, so no problem there. The problem was WHERE the card was at that moment. Inside the locked car.

The Exxon station happened to be staffed that night by two good "ole" boys. They allowed me to make a long distance call from their station phone and then proceeded to brag about the 58 different ways they could get my keys out of the car if I needed backup! All of them included a bit of violent measures and inevitably would cause some kind of harm to the car itself. One and a half hours later (because the local AAA locksmith/wrecker service was not answering the phone), a capable and qualified locksmith showed up with his toupee stuck haphazardly on his head, but his trusty tools in his hand. It took him short of 20 seconds to have the door opened and the illusive keys in my hands!

My impulse was to hug him, I was so relieved to be back inside my comfort zone, but I restrained myself. It was indeed a night of driving magic, because an hour later, just four miles from my parents' mtn. house, I sat another hour on the side of a mountain waiting for an accident to be cleared up. At 1:30 a.m. I arrived at the mountain house. Just like old times, my mom was waiting up for me! The only difference was this time I was glad she did!

On Daughters

Well, the "edible cell" was a success! Daughter #3 got an A on the project; however, she brought the biological quiche home with not a slice missing! That was her fear, after all. "Mom", she says, "Biology is right after lunch and everyone else will have edible cells made out of sweet stuff that everyone will eat. Who wants to eat a cold quiche after lunch?" (Who wants to eat cold quiche at any time?? I was discreetly thinking) Despite the possibility that her edible cell would not be popular with her classmates, the chance to be different and do a first-class project won out. However, it won't take much to conclude where the cold biological quiche went that night!

Daughter #1 has been married for almost two years now. She andher husband grace uswith their presence a couple of times a week, often eating leftovers from the frig (I'm smiling at being called "the food bank") and watching videos together. It's interesting watching her and her husband figure out this marriage thing. This is quite satisfying for parents -- actually watching the fruit of your labor of rearing this beautiful, strong-willed young person, and then realizing that they are turning out sane, savvy, loving, and loyal to all the things that you, too, think are important!! It's good stuff. She's one completed project (as far as the aggressive parenting goes) that definitely won't go into the trash!

Daughter #2 is five months out of high school and learning some things about life that we could not have taught her otherwise. She's basically responsible, industrious, organized, and methodical with her life right now, which for a 19-year old is quite amazing. But, she is working through some roadblocks (of her own making) that right now is keeping her from going to college, but I know that she'll be a better person because of all this. Ah, the lessons learned when a parent doesn't have to speak a word! So, so powerful! Once again, she is a fine project in the making! A keeper, for sure!

Edible Cell Project???

The egg might be incredible and edible, but let me tell you that this "edible cell" project has been a challenge! By the way, the project is not even for me. It's for my 15-year old daughter who is taking Biology. After a full afternoon of volleyball practice and a couple of hours practicing for a school play, I picked her up and we stopped by the grocery store to buy the stuff to make this A+ project in thirty minutes or less. Yeah, right! It's after 11:00 and we're just pulling the edible cell out of the oven. Hey, I'm an originalist, okay. Can't do what anyone else is doing. My daughter procured that same challenge for life. Be different. Do it differently. See it differently. So we did a quiche, with the egg base being the cytoplasm of the cell. If I sound intelligent about the makeup of a cell, don't be fooled. I've only seen those thirteen words about twenty times already tonight! Who says repetition isn't a way to learn something? Now, if you were to ask me to name the parts of a cell by 8:00 a.m. tomorrow morning.....well, don't.

I had a wonderful day writing. We were missionaries in West Africa for almost twenty years and have seen some amazing things. Over and over again, I have people ask when I am going to write a book about our African stories. Funny, I knew that I would eventually write this book 17-18 years ago. But it has only been in the past year or so that I knew it was time to write. But actually taking the opportunity or making an opportunity to write has been my greatest challenge. Today, however; was one of those opportunities staring me right in the face! I was able to devote my entire day to writing. Actually I did more editing and researching, but that's part of writing, too!

And then came the edible cell! Haunting me, stalking me, taunting me! But finally it's out of the oven, very impressive and cell-like, and my daughter is putting the finishing touches on her colorful checklist that she will present with the biological quiche tomorrow! Bon appetit, Mrs. Biology teacher!!

Ah, nothing like a day when you get something accomplished and see the fruit of your labor!!