That's why it's called a PRESENT!

I want to talk this morning about your holiday spending.

Not your money. In fact, if your money sitch is anything at all like mine, you probably don't have much to spend.

I want to talk about a different kind of spending...the 24/7 kind.

Yeah, that's right. The hours in your day. Your.Time.

Why?

Cuz it's about time!...(guffaws and slaps knee)

Okay...(sighs), here's the deal. At Christmastime, I go into countdown mode. Now, I'm not sure if it comes from the Peppermint Candy Advent Calendars that I ate candy from daily as a child or if it's the day limits on sales (Thurs, Fri., and Sat at Kohl's!), or simply because it's the last month of the year...but I'm very aware in December of how little/much time I have.

See, I have time problems. I can hyper-focus on one thing and spend hours messing with it (like computer time...or rearranging my record albums as a teen, or reading an entire book in a day)...or I can become easily distracted by other projects as I try to focus on one....so that nothing really gets accomplished.

To help keep me 'in the here and now' I use a timer. The timer comes in handy. If I get easily distracted and want to 'move on' to something else, I have to wait until the timer goes off. If, on the other hand, I am deeply engrossed in something...the timer goes off and reminds me to move on to the next thing now.

My focus is improving. I'm finding myself staying in the moment. Which is good, because I also have a problem with procrastination.

But we're not gonna deal with that problem right this minute. :)

There's another timing issue that I also deal with on a regular basis. I float easily from the past to the future to the past again and suddenly the whole day is gone!

I thought I was the only one, but as I watched A Christmas Carol the other night, I realized (like Scrooge did), how important it is for us to spend our time mostly in the present.

We cannot change the past. What happened has happened. And regardless of whether you're focusing on good times or bad; you cannot spend too much of your precious time in the past.

Scrooge also got an eye-opener of a future. But it was only one possibility. And so often we too can 'stare' at one possibility of the future and fret and worry and lament about it when it's not even happened! Again, you should consider the possibilities of how your future might be...set goals, etc., but you cannot spend all your time there either!

In the book, after the last Spirit (of Christmas Future) has gone, Scrooge says this:

"I don't know what day of the month it is," said Scrooge. "I don't know how long I have been among the Spirits. I don't know anything. I'm quite a baby. Never mind. I don't care..."


Scrooge found out how much time he'd 'wasted', and also how much time he had left! He found out that he didn't know much about time at all.

Most importantly, he found out that it was the day he'd been given that had all the opportunity in it! He could 'fix' the past by dealing with the present day...and he could 'change' the future the same way!! How? By making choices on Christmas Day.

You really only have this day. How are you going to spend the next 24 hours?

Set your timer and change your past and your future today! Perhaps you need to apologize to someone, and you've been putting it off. Perhaps there's a habit you need to stop...because it could hurt your future.

Christmas is the time of year when it seems we can easily overload ourselves with projects and get togethers and suddenly our schedules are all messed up with Christmas breaks and snow days and shopping sprees and parties and...well, you get the picture. We can find ourselves whining, "I don't have time for that!"

But here's the funny part: we all have the same amount of time in the day...

We didn't start the fire

Rankin: circa 1977.

I thought I smelled something 'unusual' that fateful day. Something like roasting hot dogs. Or leaves burning...

But...I didn't think too much about it at that time. After all, I was like, 9 years old. My sister and I had other things to do that day. So we continued with our playing...and I forgot about the smell.

Until later that night...

BUM BUM BUMMMMMMMM!

More about that in a minute.

Flash forward to present day: You wanna know something? My husband is quite the firestarter. He fancies himself after Charles Ingalls, I think. He could probably win on Survivor, I swear! Because when he builds a fire...it's big. It's hot. And it will not go out.

Unlike the namby-pamby fires I'm liable to try and build in the fireplace. I just don't seem to have the knack for it. I have to constantly feed my fire. Move the logs around. Keep the flame glowing. Sometimes I get really frustrated. In fact, I am so lousy at building a fire, that once I just threw in the towel.

AND BOY HOWDY!!! THAT THING BURNED FOR THREE DAYS!

(well...it WAS a beach towel, after all.)

Back to Rankin.

I was in bed. And awakened to the sound of banging on our front door. There were some guys driving past our house in the country who noticed something a 'little unusual'. So they stopped to tell us about it.

It was our barn. Our huge ol' barn where Dad kept a bunch of his farming equipment and boat and other items...was on fire!


It was amazing! It was (actually!) a blazing! We had fire departments from all sorts of towns and surrounding counties working on putting that inferno out. And while no one was seriously injured...one fireman was actually blown out of his boots when the gas tank exploded.

And that...that was quite a sight to see...

They're still not exactly sure what started the fire. Some speculation was on the old hay in the hay mow. That it oxidized or spontaneously combusted or something.

I didn't care. What I knew was that our barn was gone. Our boat was gone. And things on the farm would never look or be quite the same...

Flash forward back to present day: Steve brought home three truckloads of wood the other day. You see, they're building a Walgreen's in Mahomet, and cleared out a bunch of brush and trees...and let Steve take as much of the wood as he wanted. Nice.

We use our fireplace quite a bit in the winter. We are trying to save some energy money that way. Our furnace is not the most economical item in our home, we know...plus, we like the looks of the crackling fire in the fireplace on a chilly evening.

And the smell of S'mores. Yummmmmm.

Our fireplace helps keep us warm and cozy. It's a good fire to have around.


The barn fire, on the other hand, only destroyed. It didn't seem to care about us or our things.

Fire....is dangerous.

(well there's a completely Captain Obvious moment for you! Go ahead, I'll say it with you: DUH, C!!)

Fire is dangerous because it causes change.

A boat that was there, in the barn one day...became, in a matter of minutes...nothing but a chunk of metal. And a small chunk at that.

A fireplace fire warmed cold feet, dried out damp gloves...and gave us a roasted marshmallow to eat.

Fires can feed us...or feed upon us.

What's your fire look like, my friends? Are you on fire for something? Is there a passionate flame burning inside you for a purpose?

"A light shines in the darkness...but the darkness has not understood it..."

My obsession confession

I can become obsessed and single-minded at times...focused on one thing...and I occasionally have to fight this overpowering urge of focus...of obsession...this need...this incredible desire.

It's difficult for me to control...and I haven't really found a support group that can help me out. I've dealt with this problem since I was little...I mean, really young...

it's...it's hard for me to think about...but I can assure you that I don't ever intend to quit!

Still, I feel I need to talk to you...if for no other reason than to perhaps understand myself better.

My obsession is this:

jigsaw puzzles

Yeah, you read that right. Jigsaw puzzles. Just typing those two words makes me a little giddy...a little light-headed...whoa.


I.love.jigsaw.puzzles.

I do. I began putting the pieces into place at an early age and the staying power it has for mezmerizing me is astounding. I love easy ones...3D ones...I'll do a puzzle with someone or by myself. I love them.

Had a Yogi Bear puzzle as a kid. A hamburger puzzle as a teen. I just completed a rooster puzzle at Mom's the other day. And I know there are more jigsaws in my future.

There has to be!

Here's the deal: I can't NOT attempt to put pieces in place if there's a puzzle anywhere about. The Cancer Center where Mom has a doc that she sees once in a while has a table set up with a jigsaw. Just the other day we were there...and as soon as the nurse led Mom back for her appt., I was planted in a chair at that table, eagerly picking up pieces and figuring out where they go.

I love puzzles. I love how the pieces feel in my hand. I relish the satisfying 'snick' when a piece is put into it's proper place. I enjoy sorting the outside pieces from the inside pieces.

I can sit at a table, doing a puzzle, and lose track of time. Easily. I'm not kidding. I literally lost track of time in 1979 because I was working on a puzzle of Rip Van Winkle. Began it on Monday the 20th and when I finished it, the newspaper told me it was 1984.

You see, when I get really involved with a puzzle...nothing else matters. It's me...and the pieces...and the big picture of the finished puzzle. And this overpowering urge to complete it...

Oh, sometimes it's not all fun. Sometimes my brow furrows...when I think I've got a piece in the right place...but the fit isn't right. No worries, though. The challenge continues. And the challenge helps make it fun.

When I was about 11 years old, I had a Shaun Cassidy jigsaw puzzle. And I would put that thing together and take it apart and put it together and take it apart...and I got to this place in my mind where I began timing myself...to see how long it took me to complete that picture. To finish the puzzle.


I think my fastest time was like, 7 minutes. I wrote a letter to Shaun telling him of my victory and he wrote a song about it.

Well, he should've written a song. Because I felt it was quite an accomplishment.

Jigsaw puzzles, for me, are about a variety of things. They're about creativity, and concentration, and control. Eye candy...especially the really tough ones that use similiar colors and items like flowers or cars or water...to make your mind work even harder.

They satisfy the Monk in me by giving me a false sense of control. Of giving me the ability to sort...and categorize...and determine what happens next. Do I complete the sky? Or do I work on the log cabin? Ah Ha Ha....I rub my hands together and feel a little like Frankenstein's creator...striving to finish my creation.

Told you I had a problem with puzzles. :)

Here's my pondering for today:

Sometimes I think we're all pieces in this big ol' jigsaw puzzle. And Someone is placing us in our proper place. To complete this beautiful picture.

Here's the other thing about jigsaw puzzles. There is nothing more depressing...or maddening...or disappointing...than realizing that there is a piece that's missing.


You, my friend, are a very important piece of the puzzle. You're just as necessary as a corner piece...or the cat's eye...or the wheel on the wagon. The big picture needs you.

I need you. As puzzling as that may seem...

Tell me more...tell me more!!

I started reading at a very early age.

In fact, by the time I was in the first grade, I was such a good reader that my teacher sent me to the second grade for reading class...because the first grade curriculum just wasn't 'challenging enough'.

But I'm not here to brag about my early learning experiences. That's just part of it...heehee...

If you had asked me, I would've told you the plain and simple truth. It didn't involve brains or intellect. It wasn't that I was some sort of "Super Student". It was...simply...this:

I love a good story!

I can't help it! There's something about starting with "Once upon a time..." and getting to the "happily ever after" that I think we all enjoy. Oh, not every good story ends or begins with those exact words...but I believe we all want to hear someone tell us about their life. So we can compare it to ours....or find out what we have in common...or find out about a certain place...or just to laugh. Or cry. We love a good story.

Maybe that's why reality television is so popular?

But I'm not here to talk about Survivor...or the Biggest Loser. I'm here to talk about a boy named Tommy.

This boy had the most exciting life! I mean...he was almost killed by my uncle Rick several times over...he survived (just barely!) a family vacation that involved a terrorizing group of raccoons in the garbage cans....and he was constantly riding around either on this pony or in a go-cart. The kid was something else!

At least to hear my Grandma tell it.

My love of Story began with Dr. Seuss' "And to think that I saw it on Mulberry Street"...but it was my Grandma who cinched my love of Story by telling me and my sister about my Dad's childhood. Those family vacations...and incidents with raccoons...and go carts...and historic fights that he and our uncle Rick had together! Those stories were better than TV! My sister and I found out over the years that Dad was cool! This COULD NOT be the same person we lived with!

My Grandma may not have known exactly what kind of 'monster' she was helping to create, though. I fell in love with Story and it's consumed me...this love affair...and it's continued throughout my life.

From high school diaries that tell 'my' story...to learning the art of acting and being able to tell the stories of others on stage...to becoming a grown up and telling stories every so often around a family campfire. I realize the power Story has in my life.

So much power, in fact, that I've been paid for telling stories to elementary school students. So much power that I've spent close to 900 kaprillion dollars on scrapbooking supplies just for the opportunity to journal about a birthday party. To record a special event. To tell the Story.

Yesterday, the power of Story came up again. I found myself with a captive audience wanting to hear more. "Tell us more about Hannah growing up!" I heard. So I did.

And I thought of my Grandma right then. Did she understand the POWER of Story?

Do we? Really?

Do you, my friend, understand how important it is that you share some of yourself with others? You have incredible influence in people's lives...and you may not realize it...but someone is listening to you. What are you telling them?

You are a main character in a very good story. And someone wants to hear more...I encourage you today to share a piece with someone. And I also encourage you to listen. Who knows? You may find yourself falling in love with Story...

and living happily ever after. The End.

The Best Medicine...

You know who doesn't have a very good sense of humor?

Cats.

Cats do not have a good sense of humor. I think that's what makes them so funny.

They cannot laugh at themselves.


Growing up, we had cats. And on more than one occasion, one of our cats would do something goofy that would crack me up.

I don't believe any of those times was ever intentional. The cat never tried to make me laugh.

But I laughed just the same.

Because I love a good joke.

Those of you who know me...know I'm speaking the truth. Heck, I even tolerate bad jokes.

I can't help myself. I get all excited and tingly when someone says, "Hey...did you hear the one about...?"

I love jokes so much that I will frequently go into JCM with people (JCM stands for Joke Courtesy Mode-the state of listening to a previously heard joke with the same excitement/anticipation as the first time of hearing it). Everyone needs some JCM. I mean, nothing's as disappointing as having someone burst your bubble by saying, "That's no sandwich! That's my wife!" right before you get to say it.

My son is in jr. high. He comes home with jokes on a daily basis. And a lot of them require severely high dosages of JCM. And a lot of them are pretty sad.
But I listen to every one. Because I know how good it is to laugh.

And lately, I have been taking advantage of every opportunity I can to laugh. Because I haven't felt very good.

Physically, emotionally, mentally. All areas that are ailing. All areas that have greatly benefited from a big ol' belly laugh.

It's therapeutic, I'm told. And I believe it.

Take the other night, for instance...

Steve, my husband (who normally ISN'T very humorous!), did this funny voice thing and made me crack up.

The laughter felt good. Steve was pleased with himself and continued to do the voice. I laughed harder.

And the fact that he made me laugh so hard made me laugh even harder.

I went into a giggling fit. It got so bad that he became annoyed with me.

Kinda reminded me of a cat. Which was pretty humorous itself. Picturing my hubby as a kitty cat....heeheehee.

Picture this: here's me on the bed, laughing. Steve smiles at my laughter for a second...then, as he realizes I'm not 'slowing down'...begins to frown a little.

"It wasn't that funny!" he claims, indignantly. Which...snicker...just made me laugh harder!

"C'mon. Knock it off." he says. I can see he's baffled by my laughter and I want to stop. Honestly! I do!

But I can't. Have you ever been there? Do you know what that's like? To want to STOP laughing?

I'm trying to get myself under control. And Steve? He totally looks like a ticked off cat now!

Finally, in true 'ticked off cat' fashion...he got up and left. In a huff.

I laughed and laughed.

And felt better!

My friends, find something to laugh at today. However, I wouldn't recommend Steve. I don't think he'll get it...

Because I'm Worth It...Priceless

I don't know about you...but the media is killin' me with all the economy talk.

Seriously. I find myself thinking I was back in "Little House on the Prairie" times...that it would just be easier to get by these days with a horse...milkin' my own cow and making my own clothes. That it would be easier to not have to wrestle with school activity fees...and messing with school fundraisers...and trying to deal with where my money goes.

And people.

Sigh.

People in need.

And I gotta tell you...it's difficult for me to find the 'extra money' to give to 'people in need'...when I'm trying to figure out my own stuff, you know??!!

Maybe I'm a 'people in need'...

And then there are the needy people in my life.

Do you know what I'm talking about? These folks don't necessarily need my money.

Relationships. They can cost so much...we try to save a little time for ourselves and someone comes along and charges us extra. We invest in our children's lives...our friendships...because we know that they're worth something and I value my relationships greatly.

Wow. Is the tv on? Do you hear all that money talk?

Here. I'll help you out.

Relationships. They can cost so much...we try to save a little time for ourselves and someone comes along and charges us extra. We invest in our children's lives...our friendships...because we know that they're worth something and I value my relationships greatly.

People...relationships....are not a commodity. Donald Miller talks about that some in his book, "Blue Like Jazz".

It's hard to talk about people and not use those words. See, I think you're valuable. But valuable is a 'money' word. I can want you to realize how much you're worth. But again...a cash amount seems to be appropriate here.

You're actually not valuable.

You're invaluable.

Dictionary.com says invaluable is an adjective describing something that is "beyond calculable or appraisable value".

Can't even buy life insurance for you...because you're beyond dollar amounts! :)

Do you understand that?

Do you realize how much you matter?? How rare you are? What a find you could be?

It's big stuff. Just like the stock market news...I find it difficult to wrap my brain around...

You matter to me. You matter to God. You need to matter to yourself...

and other people need to matter to you.

Because we're all invaluable. Each one of us. From babies who can't seem to sleep thru the night to great grandmas that don't remember our names anymore. From our best friend to our worst enemy.

All invaluable. All matter.

It is so easy, my friends, to calculate our relationships. To determine what the 'fair amount' is on our time...our effort...what our 'payback' will be...

I do it. I'm sure you do it as well. I don't want to reach out to this person or that person because it's not worth the investment...

or...

or we don't think we're worth the investment. We become martyrs...giving so much of our 'cashflow' to others that our account is 'empty' or 'overdrawn'...and we don't take care of ourselves because we've put ourself last.

You, my friend, are more than a dollar sign to me. You're like a great piece of art...or furniture...or that ages old quilt. You're priceless...

and you can...um...take that to the bank.

Busdriver! MOVE THAT COUCH!

It's been noisy at my house lately. Dictionary.com (my lil buddy!) says that "noisy" is defined as: Making a noise, esp. a loud sound; clamorous; vociferousem>emturbulent; boisterous; as, the noisy crowd.

Hm. Vociferous, by the way...is my "word for the day"...and I will try to use it at least twice (most likely using it incorrectly! Just because I like the sound of the word!). Vociferous means: conspicuously and offensively loud; given to vehement outcry

Offensively loud. Yeah....I think vociferous describes my situation to a tee.

Here's the deal though. My house isn't noisy in the "neighbors are gonna call the cops" kind of way. It's more of an internal thing.

In fact, I've been considering Feng Shui as a way to 'fix the problem'. Dictionary.com (again!) tells me that Feng Shui is: the Chinese art or practice of creating harmonious surroundings that enhance the balance of yin and yang, as in arranging furniture or determining the siting of a house.

I think "yin" and "yang" might be "Hannah" and "Jacob" in Chinese. Or maybe "Shut" and "Up"...or perhaps it means "gin" and "tonic". I'm not quite sure...

I do, however, wonder if it would really work. If I moved my couch over three inches and placed a red pillow in the room somewhere...if my yin and yang would be balanced.

It's a good question. I'm sure that there are some of you out there right now saying, 'FENG SHUI ROCKS! IT REALLY WORKS! DO IT, C.! DO IT!' (You'll see a difference in three days...if not fully satisfied, simply return the pillow to its orignal position and stop making fun of Feng Shui in an infomercial sort of way!)

I don't know that moving my couch will stop the noisiness inside of me.

The Serenity Prayer says: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

Hm...serenity is defined (thanks again, Dictionary.com!!!) as:

1. a disposition free from stress or emotion [syn: repose]
2. the absence of mental stress or anxiety
calm, or tranquil(Free from commotion or disturbance)

Okay. Serenity sounds like what I need in my house. Perhaps I can set it next to the couch??

The prayer goes on to say "wisdom to know the difference"...and I think I've got some of that wisdom today.

I'd love to share it with you. Ready? Okay!

(I did NOT just sound like a cheerleader then, did I? Cuz that's...um...scary!)

Okay..."courage to change the THINGS I can"

THINGS...

THINGS (like couches)

THINGS...

not people.

Oh boy. That's insightful. Part of my noisiness has a lot to do with wanting people to change.

I'm soberly considering the fact that Feng Shui has got the right idea...

I can move my couch....I cannot move Brad...or Sharon...or Phil...or whatever Romper Room name you want to insert here...the fact is...that we do have some control over things...but not people.

And here's the other part: we don't really have that much control over things!!!

Oh...I guess we can move our couches...and the balance in our living room might shift...but the Serenity Prayer goes on to say this:

Living one day at a time; enjoying one moment at a time;
accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;

Um...not 'moving couches' is the 'pathway to peace'??

Acceptance is.

Wow.

Listen, I've got to run....I just want you to consider today the idea of "acceptance" vs. "noisiness"...

Hey! How'd this pillow get here!!??

Is this a kissing book?

One of my most favorite movies of all time is The Princess Bride. And one of my favorite scenes in the movie is this one:

Grandpa: [voiceover] Nothing gave Buttercup as much pleasure as ordering Wesley around.

Buttercup: Farm boy, polish my horse's saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning.

Wesley: As you wish.

Grandpa: [voiceover] "As you wish" was all he ever said to her.

Buttercup: Farm boy, fill these with water - please.

Wesley: As you wish.

Buttercup: Farm boy... fetch me that pitcher.
[It's right over her head, so he has to stand next to her]

Wesley: As you wish.
[Cut to them kissing]


The Grandson: [interrupting] Hold it, hold it. What is this? Are you trying to trick me? Where's the sports? [suspiciously] Is this a kissing book?

I saw this movie for the first time on a date. I was with a guy that I thought was amazing. Just an incredible guy. I was smitten. Seriously. I would've done just about anything for him.

Who was this guy? Um...well, it's been a long time ago...and I think his last name starts with a....um...R? Maybe?

Does it matter?

Well, C., you just said that you really thought a lot about this guy and would do anything for him...but you can't even remember his name now? That's kinda lame. What kind of relationship was that?

I was young.

I uh...I thought I loved him...but maybe I didn't really understand what love is.

And, my friends...I'm STILL not sure I understand love. Sigh. But there are some things about love that I DO understand now.

I think The Princess Bride gives us a great visual of love.

When you love someone very much...you put their needs before your own. You want the best for them...you're not thinking of yourself necessarily. You want to please them.

Such was the case with Wesley, the farm boy. He did what Buttercup asked of him, not to win her approval of him...but simply because he loved her.

And the more she piled on...the more he obeyed her. Without complaint. Because all he wanted was to be with her.

Do you have that kind of relationship with someone?

Seriously?

I mean, c'mon...it's the movies, for cryin' out loud....that doesn't happen in real life!

Does it?

Now I'd like you to consider your relationship with God. When He speaks to you...is your response to God, "As you wish?"

When we love someone...we want their happiness. We want them to know that we care about them. So we serve them. Take care of their requests...as they wish.

Is that what you say to God?

It's a good question.

I think that when we love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength...we desire to obey Him...to do the things He asks of us...it should be our response.

However...I also think that we can "do" a bunch of stuff for God and never say, "As you wish." to Him. Not once.

These 'chores' just become things we check off of a list. Rules that we follow to try and get into heaven...or at least, find heavenly acceptance.

That doesn't sound like intimacy. That doesn't sound like closeness.

It's like...well, what if Wesley just did the chores around the farm, but didn't speak to Buttercup at all? The movie wouldn't be nearly as interesting...
he and Buttercup would never have had that 'connection'...that kiss. Sure, things would've gotten done...but Wesley and Buttercup would've missed out on a really good time together.

Hm.

Consider this:

God loves you very much. But not because of the things that you do! He made a huge sacrifice of Himself so that he could have a relationship with you. He wants that more than anything.

My friends, I encourage you to look God in the eye and say, "As You Wish."

Just once.

Fail

So my Mom had cataract surgery on Monday. Everything went fine...except that she's lost her debit card.

Well...I guess I lost her debit card. As I was the last one to 'see it alive' before it went missing. Without a trace.

(I gotta stop watching so many crime shows!)

I've looked everywhere for the stupid card. I can't find it. Sigh.

I felt really bad. And yesterday, when we realized it was gone....I felt even worse than awful. I badmouthed myself until I was blue in the face...I got all clenched up inside. And I was cranky (to say the least!)...and not really much fun to be around for a while.

Until I let it go!!!

Let go of what, you ask?

I let go of my 'control of things'...and I stoppped being so hard on myself and the fact that I am not perfect. I mess up. I do clumsy, irresponsible things. Not all the time, mind you...but just enough to remind me that I screw up.

I fail.

Do you ever fail?

How does that make you feel? Crummy?

Couple of thoughts: When it comes to God...He is not suprised by our failure. Not ever. When we have a relationship with Him...there is never a time that God says, "WHAT? C. LOST A DEBIT CARD? WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER? SHE CAN'T DO A THING RIGHT, I TELL YA! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO PUT UP WITH HER DISAPPOINTING ME? WELL...THAT'S IT! WE'RE DONE HERE! SHE ISN'T WORTH THE TROUBLE!"

(Now...sometimes I think He just shakes His head and rubs His temple at my behavior...but that may be all in my head...I dunno!) :)

Let's get back to the card. My losing the card is a fine example of how we think we have some control over our life...and yet...there are still variables that come into play that we didn't consider in our grand scheme of things.

We cannot anticipate every possible outcome. We do not know everything.

But when we think we have control...when a relatively intelligent, somewhat organized woman misplaces a debit card...and freaks when she cannot find it...even tho she is ALMOST SURE she gave it back to her Mom....well, it's not peaceful. It's chaotic. And it's a good reminder that we're wanting things our way...not God's way.

Recently someone commented about Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. Was He disappointed in the disciples' behavior? I've been praying and thinking about this particular part of the Bible...and here's what I'd like to consider:

Jesus-disappointed or not (I'm still not sure I've come to a conclusion here), remembered the Big Picture...remembered that He had asked God in prayer that God's will be done...not Jesus'. And when He saw the disciples sleeping...He didn't say, "That's it! I'm through with you!" He used the moment to remind them to pray, to be alert...so they don't enter the danger zone.

I think I entered that danger zone yesterday. And while I wasn't in there for very long...there was still some 'damage' that was done...because I wasn't thinking of the big picture...I was focused on my own expectations and how I failed.

When our expectations aren't met...we aren't fun to be around. We become judgemental, angry, hard, bitter, annoyed, sad people. I was all of those things yesterday...at myself. And it shouldn't have been like that.

Why, you ask?

Consider this: while I was thinking of myself...and my failure...and my anger at losing the card...I may have fallen 'asleep'.

I may have missed an opportunity to be in the garden with God...

Do you understand that? When I live with expectations...I'm focused on me. When I have expectations of others, I'm focused on them. I'm keeping score...and determining who passes....and who fails.

But God...

God lives in expectancy...wanting us to share our lives with Him...not spend our valuable time 'doing' things to meet some criteria that says we're 'good'. It's the time that we spend with Him that helps us to be 'good'...not the things that we 'do'.

My friends, it's the relationship that is important to God...not the rules.

Relationships and Rat Traps

As I've been thinking about expectations and how they affect our relationships with others, I've been reminded of how much impact we have in the lives of each other.

Don't believe me?

Read on, my friend...

A rat looked through a crack in the wall of the farmhouse just in time to see the farmer and his wife opening a package.

"I wonder what that is?" the rat said to himself, "Some new kind of food, perhaps?"

But the rat was disappointed to learn that the package was not food at all...but a rat trap. Retreating to the farmyard, the rat proclaimed the following to all who could hear him:

"There is a rat trap in the house now! There is a rat trap in the house!"

The chicken clucked and scratched, then raised her head and said, "I can tell, Mr. Rat...that this is a grave concern to you...but it is of no consequence to me! I cannot be bothered by your petty problems!" The chicken went on scratching in the dirt.

The rat saw the pig nearby and told him the news. "There's a rat trap in the house now, Pig!"

The pig smiled sympathetically at the rat. "I am so very sorry for you, Mr. Rat, but there's nothing I can do about it. So sorry..."

The rat turned to the cow. "Did you hear that there's a rat trap in the house?"

The cow nodded knowingly, "Yep, I heard that, Rat. It's too bad...but it's no skin off my nose now, is it?"

The rat, now feeling very dejected, hung down his head and went slowly back into the farmer's house...to face the trap alone.

And...that very night...a sound was heard throughout the farmyard. SNAP! The trap had caught its prey.

The farmer's wife rushed to it. But in the darkness, she could not see the venomous snake whose tail was stuck in the trap, and the snake bit the farmer's wife.

The farmer rushed her to the hospital...and she returned home...with a fever.

Everyone knows that one of the ways to treat a fever is with chicken soup, so the farmer got out his hatchet and went out to the farmyard for the main ingredient.

However, the wife's sickness continued, and as friends and family came to take care of her around the clock, the farmer killed the pig in order to feed them.

But the wife did not get well...and died one night. So many people turned out for her funeral that the farmer's cow was sacrificed so that they could eat after the service.

The rat watched all of this from the crack in the wall with great sadness.

The moral is: the next time that you hear someone facing a problem and think that it doesn't concern you...remember, when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk.

That's why encouraging each other and keeping an eye out for each other is so important. Relationships matter!!!

I know we're all busy...each day I myself have the potential to need to be in four places at once. We can't 'do it all'...that's not what I mean. But we cannot keep saying, "I don't have time." or "I'm too busy." or "Maybe tomorrow." Don't put off the relationships in your life...pick one person to really connect with this week, okay?

A yoke...over easy.

I went to my daughter's play rehearsal this evening. In an effort to save on some gas and to see her 'in action'.

I watched the students move a large set piece off of the stage in order to get ready to rehearse. At first, there were three of them trying to move it...and it wouldn't budge.

At one point I think someone said, "I can't hold onto this much longer. It's too heavy!"
And that got me to thinking some more about this idea of verbs and nouns and 'expectancy' vs. 'having expectations'.

I think we should live expectantly. I think that's what God does with us...just as The Shack mentioned.

I think we should change our expectations into expectancy...take them from the noun form that they are and turn them into action.

When I consider this idea as I think about how I relate to others...I'd much rather 'live expectantly' than 'have expectations'. They (expectations) seem 'heavy' to me...and carry with them the burden of the possibility of disappointment.

It's a good visual for me. This idea of my holding onto something tightly...to the point of white-knuckling. To hold onto a selfish expectation that life should 'go my way for crying out loud!'(you know...just for example), is like holding desperately onto a heavy set piece...wanting someone to come and take some of that weight away...to make that load lighter.

As I'm learning to embrace God's love for us (for me!) in such a way that...while God knows what we're going to do (and that, my friends...is my belief!)...and to consider that He is there...expectantly living with me...that He has this hope for what He's created...that He just....wants to be a part of my life...even when I do (or don't do) what He 'expected'...well, I think that's what grace looks like...

When I think about my relationships with difficult people...and how they have never (well...rarely, for sure!) met my selfish expectations of what they should be...and how distressed I get about that...the refreshing change of heart that happens when my trying to see them (to see you!)as the human being that God created and whom God expectantly watches with me...to remember that He's on my team...makes it a little easier for me to live expectantly...rather than grip so tightly onto those heavy expectations of mine...tenaciously holding onto them and then throwing them down when they disappoint me.

But that's just me...anyhoo...

Back to the rehearsal...

at one point, I heard some kid holler, "Hey, can I give you a hand?"

And that's what I think I hear God hollering to me...as my knees buckle under the expectations...those heavy, weighty objects that they tend to be. Expectancy moves me in the right direction. Having expectations just weighs me down.

"God! Grab that corner!" I hear myself say.

My friends, stop trying to carry it all yourself. Give God a hand...

and give yourself a hand too! You are so loved!!!

Joy Dishwashing Soap

Last time I wrote, I got some good questions about the whole verb/noun alive/dead stuff I mentioned...and some more thoughts on expectations vs. expectancy.

So...I thought we'd think about these a little more this week. I realize that perhaps you have not read The Shack...and maybe I'm making assumptions of you (or have expecatations??) and need to clarify my ideas. Even if I don't have to clarify...this fascinates me; so I'm going to enjoy talking more about it.

And I have a selfish reason. I don't want to wash my dishes.

As I have done in the past, I'm going to ask dictionary.com to help me with the literal meaning of words.

Here's one definition of expectations.

Expectations: Prospects, especially of success or gain.

Ah, excellent! This is great. My friends, that is what I want us to focus on for a moment.

Notice what the dictionary says: "especially of success or gain".

Interesting. When we have an expectation, dictionary.com indicates that that expectation is for success or gain.

In other words, "I will gain something from this expectation. And it will be a good something. I will benefit from having this expectation met in a successful way."

I think I can safely say that most 'good' expectations come from repeated 'good' actions getting repeated 'good' (or successful) results.

Majority wins, yes?

For example, let's say I have dirty dishes in the sink.


I ask my daughter to wash the dishes on Monday evening.

And she does. The dishes are done! WOO HOO!

Success! My instructions were followed, and something good came from that.

When I give instructions to my children and they follow my instructions, learning/doing something 'good'...I am pleased and I will expect them to do the same thing next time.

Okay...so now it's Tuesday night. And I ask Hannah to wash the dishes.
And again, lo and behold...she does what I ask.

Excellent! Success again!

So the next time I give instructions to my children and they follow them and again...the outcome is successful. WOO HOO! I am doing something right....my kids are doing something right...and it's all good. So I write the expectation down in my head.

Hannah washes the dishes four nights in a row. In fact, on Thursday, I didn't even ask. She just did it.

Again. It's good. My instructions are being followed. She knows what I want! I don't even have to ask her. She just does it.

BRILLIANT!



Now it's Friday. I walk into the kitchen...with the expectation that Hannah has done the dishes just like she has done for the past four evenings and...

and...

there are dirty dishes in the sink and Hannah is nowhere to be found.

This time...there is not success. What has happened here? Did Hannah forget? Weren't my instructions clear? I mean, I didn't even have to ask her to do them last night and she did them anyway! What is going on?

I am not happy.

My 'good' instructions were not followed. And because my instructions weren't followed...I'm going to have a talk with Hannah. Because this is not acceptable. It's not good.

My expectation has not been met in a positive way. It.is.not.good.

I am not happy with the outcome. I am not happy with my kids. In fact, you know what?? I may punish Hannah for not following my instruction. She knew the instructions I gave her and didn't follow them.

Now. Deep breath here.

Re-read that whole example of Hannah and the dishes. I'll wait.

*muzak plays softly in the background. C. sings robustly with Air Supply's 'All out of Love'*

Did you notice how much the word "I" (in various forms) was used??

About 30 times.

"My" and "I". "I" am in control of things. I gave the instruction. I bought the dishes. And....and...I even gave birth to the kid for crying out loud!

It was me! I am in control of this situation.

Or at least, one would think that I would be in control of this situation.

And it wasn't a bad thing! I mean, it's not like I asked Hannah to do something hurtful!

It should have worked out! While it was good, while it was successful...while the dishes were getting washed each night...I felt like I had control.

What happened to my control on Friday? Didn't Hannah know I was in control of the dishes? I thought she did. I gave her the dishes to do...and she didn't do them.

I should have control over Hannah...as I mentioned...I MADE her!!

For some reason I don't know....Hannah over-rode my expectation by not following my instruction. She did what SHE wanted...not what I wanted!!!

And what happened then? Not anything good, I can tell you that! Because my expectation was a good one...and should have been obeyed.

It's not fair!

Where is the joy when your expectation is NOT met?

I can't see the future...hm...I don't know if Hannah's going to make that mistake again or not....hm....and hm....I guess that I am not really in control of things like I thought I was.

My friends....I know that this is long...we'll look at this some more tomorrow.

I'm going to leave you with this thought:

Expectations come from our selfish desires that the things we want...the people we deal with...the situations we find ourselves in are met with success in our favor. Because when those expectations are met to our satisfaction, we think we're in control.

But...sadly...we are not in control. Not really. Because people are involved...and people are surprising...and people make mistakes. We can't make them do the things we want.

And experience joy. Not consistently, anyway.


Again, we are not in control.

Only God is.

God is.

Dishes...joy. Hm....guess I gotta go do those dishes now. You have a good day!

It wasn't what I expected!

Right now Christmas is on my mind.

I know...it's only September. I can hear you now..."C., you're as bad as the stores that have their decorations up as soon as the school supplies are sold in August!"

I know.

In fact, I'm listening to Christmas music right now.

And I'm working hard on the Christmas musical we're going to perform at church.

So you see, Christmas is on my mind.

And you know...when I get excited about something, I repeat myself.

Did I mention that Christmas is on my mind?

Okay...okay. Here's why. Really and truly.

I just finished reading "The Shack" by William P. Young. It's an amazing book. Seriously. I haven't been this excited about a read since 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows'.

And do you know why? It wasn't what I expected.

Which is, in fact, the beauty of it. I don't want to tell you all about the book...because I want to encourage you to read it for yourself. However, I will say that one (of the many!) ideas this book presents is the subtle difference between verbs and nouns.

Verbs are alive.
Nouns are dead.

Stop yawning! This isn't going to be a tiresome grammar lesson! But think about that for a moment.

Now think about Christmas.

Is your heart starting to clench? Did you begin to consider all the things you HAVE to do to get ready for it? The cost of the gifts, decorations, food? The get togethers where you have to see people you don't really want to see but you're expected to go....so you go...and ugh. 'C,' I can hear you say, 'I don't even WANT to think about Christmas!'


Why?

Simply moving a word from a noun form to a verb form has transformed how I think about Christmas...as well as other aspects of my life.

I've been thinking about this for the past couple of days. One thing I struggle with is expectations.

Expectations of myself...of others...of job situations...of people driving their Chryslers...of waitresses...and expectations of God.

I have a lot of those. And the expectations I believe God has for me.

Except that God is a verb...not a noun. "I am" not just "I".

Alive and moving.

So...expectations...which are a noun...are dead.

Instead...try 'expectancy'.

I think that's why we adults dread Christmas to the degree that we do. We are taking care of the expectations. Expectations of gifts for children. Expectations of parents who are planning dinners. Expectations of retailers regarding our spending. We have expectations about a Christmas bonus from our job to equal or be more than what we received the year before. We have expectations about the weather and snowfall.

We, as adults, are nouns. Dead.

But children....children are! They are expectant.

When I was a kid, we had an advent calendar that held a piece of candy. And each day we got a little closer to Christmas. Something wonderful was going to happen on Dec. 25th. We looked forward to it. Without expectations.

I think that's what we've lost! Oh sure, kids may have gift expectations...but they (for the most part) are expectant. Looking forward to what will happen.

There is energy there. In that expectancy.

Isn't it the same thing, C? I mean, expectations...expectancy...what's the diff?

Expectations follow rules. They bind us. They keep us from experiencing joy.

Expectancy however, is freeing.

It's about control, folks. And disappointment rarely shows up when one is expectant. But when one has expectations...like I did that certain Christmas morning when I got the wrong Adam Ant album...disappointment shows up and kills joy.

Expectancy allows joy to happen.

Joy to the World!


And so, as I think about God...instead of thinking I'm not meeting His expectations...I think...He's watching me expectantly...involved with my life...not just judging my actions...or inactions...but actively involved.

And me? Instead of expecting God to do this or that...I just...expect God!

Do you see what I mean? Can you feel that energy at all?

Hm...maybe it's just me. And that's okay. Because I don't really have any expectations about your response.

Oh! One more thing...by thinking in verbs...rather than nouns...there's a good chance I'll burn off some of those Christmas cookie calories, you know what I'm saying?

Does it taste like chicken?

One of my most favorite books is The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster. I still remember the day I plucked it off the shelf in Mr. Jones' 6th grade reading class. I read it every so often even now as an adult and I'm always seeing something in a different way each time. It is one of the most entertaining, colorful, meaningful, thought-provoking, instructing books for children I've ever read. I can't believe that it's not required reading!

Why Phantom Tollbooth, you ask? Well...it talks of words and numbers. Of reason and rhyme. Of logic and music and boredom and Humbugs and Demons and Milo. Here's a piece of it to (ahem) whet your appetite:

[Milo, a young boy, finds himself in a strange new land and at one point he is invited to the King's Royal Banquet.]

"Are you ready with the menu?" asked the Humbug.

"Well," said Milo,remembering that his mother had always told him to eat lightly when he was a guest, "why don't we have a light meal?"

"A light meal it shall be!" roared the bug, waving his arms.

The waiters rushed in carrying large serving platters and set them on the table in front of the king. When he lifted the covers, shafts of brilliant-colored light leaped from the plates and bounced around the ceiling, the walls, across the floor, and out the windows.

"Not a very substantial meal," said the Humbug, rubbing his eyes, "but quite an attractive one! Perhaps you can suggest something a little more filling."

"Well, in that case," said Milo, "I think we ought to have a square meal of ----,"

"A square meal it is!" shouted the Humbug again.

And again the waiters bring in trays full of steaming squares of all sizes and colors.

"Ugh!" said the Spelling Bee, tasting one, "these are awful!"

No one else liked them very much either, and the Humbug got one caught in his throat and almost choked.

"Time for the speeches!" announced the King. He pointed to Milo. "You first!"

"Your majesty, ladies and gentlemen," started Milo timidly, "I would like to take this opportunity to say that in all the -----"

"That's quite enough!" snapped the King. "Next!"

"Roast turkey, mashed potatoes, vanilla ice cream," recited the Humbug.

"What a strange speech!" thought Milo, for he'd heard many in the past and knew that they were supposed to be long and dull.

"Hamburgers, corn on the cob, chocolate pudding-p-u-d-d-i-n-g," said the Spelling Bee.

And so down the line it went, with each guest rising briefly, making a short speech and then sitting back down. Finally the king said,

"Pate' de foie gras, soupe a l'oignon, faisan sous cloche, salade endive, fromages et fruits et demi-tasse," he said carefully and clapped his hands again.

The waiters bring in trays filled with exactly what each person said, and everyone began eating with great gusto.

"I can't say that I think much of your choice," said the Humbug to Milo.

"I didn't know that I was going to have to eat my words." objected Milo, looking at his plate.


Wow....

I can see the banquet table in my mind...this big ol' long wooden table...with guests seated down both sides...and candlesticks and goblets...and I can even smell the food! The chocolate pudding, the French stuff the king eats...it's vivid. It's clear. It's almost palatable.

And I see Milo's plate. Full of grey, lumpy, wilted words.

Kinda the consistency of oatmeal...but worse.

Yuck.

Our words are so amazing, aren't they? I mean, in this book they are actually food. The people actually DO eat their words!

Lemme ask you a question.

What would your words taste like?

Think about that for a second.

Smooth like pudding? Sweet like ice cream? Buttery like corn? Hot, fresh, filling like bread? Perhaps tangy...like an orange?

Maybe your words are sour...or peppery...perhaps people make faces when they hear what you have to say...or begin coughing. Or crying.

There's this cliche' that Juster must've known about that says we are to make sure our words are sweet...for we may have to eat them.

I don't know about you...but there are some days that I just want to diet.

Not say a word at all....because it will not be good...or nourishing. In fact, sometimes I think my words can be cholesterol to the soul.

Ugh.

And not the good cholesterol either!!

Choose your words carefully today, my friends...and think of Milo. Bon appetite!

...and again I say...

There's a Jaws movie marathon going on this week on tv. My son Jacob saw the first one and (pun intended!) was hooked! He made us watch Jaws II last night.

Yeah, I said "made us."

So...I've had fish on my mind the past couple of days. In fact, I found myself in the book of Jonah the other day. In the Bible, Jonah finds himself in the belly of a fish. He prays to God. Chapter Two says, "In my distress I called out to the Lord and He answered me!"

This past week I've found myself feeling as though I, too, am in the belly of a fish.

Could be a Great White Shark at this point. Painful...ugly stuff.

So...I followed Jonah's example...called out to the Lord in my distress...

"Hey! You! Life is kinda sucky right now! I know...You know that already. Things aren't really turning out like I'd hoped, you see...and I'm feeling overwhelmed and unamused and really...very ticked off because I'm inconvenienced...and tired...and struggling with my self image...and I don't have enough money and I'm trying really hard not to whine, God....but I'm feeling whiny! So...since I'm so miserable right now...I'm going to ask You what You're going to do about it! So...what's it going to be? Do I sit here in this mess forever now? Tell me what I'm doing wrong and I'll fix it!"

and do you know what? He answered me.

By giving me money and taking away the inconveniences?

Um....no. Not exactly.

He answered me this way...

By making me listen to a Sunday morning sermon message that talked about finding Joy in everyday living.

ergh!....um....hm....I furrow my eyebrows...and call out to God again...again very distressed.

"HA HA....very funny, God! A message on joy. How appropriate! How typical! How bloomin' annoying is that!!?? Look, okay...I'm not really sitting here wishing for a million dollars or a model's body or a 34 hour day. I know what limitations are! But joy?! See, I already told you that I'm NOT feeling that way right now!!! AUGH! You're not listening!!! Don't you listen?!"

and do you know what? He answered me.

By giving me a model's body after all?

Um...no. Not exactly.

I heard from Him because I was reading the Bible. I found myself in the book of Phillipians this time. Or, as I like to call it..."the book that really overuses the word 'rejoice'."

Sigh. Very. Funny. Again. Boy...I tell you, my friends...sometimes I picture God just rolling around on His Golden Floor...holding His stomach and laughing so hard He's crying...as He watches the expressions on my face.

Not laughing AT me...like in a mean way...but laughing. Hard.

Cuz He knows I love a good joke.

He made me. He knows what I can handle.

It's me that doesn't really know what I can handle. Hence my frustration. My worry. My non-joy-ness.

First verse I read was the one I had underlined at some point. Chapter 2, verse 14: "Do all things without grumbling or disputing."

You gotta be kidding me!!

I hear Him giggling. Struggling to keep it under control...but giggling nonetheless.

I shut up right then. Just put the book down and thought about that.

How does that work? Not grumbling? I mean, really? How do you do that?

How do I do that?

For several days now, I've been wondering about that...almost fearful of speaking...because I've been so near to doing one of two things....either crying. Or screaming.

Feeling. Very. Grumbly.

I want very much to have joy. To rejoice.

Joy. What is that, anyway?

Webster's dictionary says that joy, as a noun, is 'the emotion evoked by well-being, success, or good fortune or by the prospect of possessing what one desires."

Uh huh. Yeah, that's me. Snort.

"Um...God? Did you hear what I said? I don't have success, good fortune and well-being right now. So how do I feel joy again?"

"Pssst...(heehee)C....look at(hoohoo)the second part of that."

"what? You mean 'the prospect of possessing what one desires?'"

hm....

"Is that a thing, God? What I desire?"

"You tell me. What do you want?"

What do I want? I want...I want a lot of things, my friends. And what I want is more than just some Santa Claus wish list. I mean, yes...there are things I want...reasonable things...not just toys...or something that is just for me, you know?

I mean...I want things like peace...and I want my kids to have a good school year...and I want to be a good wife...and I want to find some good landscaping plans for my yard...and I want to be more like Jesus...and I want to hire a maid to clean my kitchen...and I want the dogs to be flea-free...and I want the Cardinals to win all their games...and I want to make people who feel bad feel better...and I want some chips and salsa right now...even tho I know it's only 7:30 in the morning.

In the middle of all of that...do you see what I see?

Go ahead...read it again.

We'll come back to that here in a sec. What I want to do now is look at the word "rejoice".

Huh. Will you look at that? Rejoice is right across from Reindeer in my dictionary. Makes me think of Christmas.

Which I find rather funny, since it's supposed to be around 90 degrees today.

Webster's says that rejoice is, as a verb, this:

"to give joy to".

Hm....

Which reminds me again, of Christmas. A little. We give things to people at Christmas. Gifts...I like receiving gifts...but I really like giving gifts. As I get older, I find myself watching the kids open their stuff and forget to open my own packages.

Another thing about gifts? Some of us are good at re-gifting. Oh, they may call it re-cycling, I suppose.

Re-gifting. Re-cycling. Re-joicing.

Re-joicing. "to give joy to".

My friends, I do not get it right all the time. I make a lot of mistakes. I'm selfish...and prideful...and...

And I grumble.

But in my distress I called to the Lord and He answered me.

"Celebrate God all day, every day. I mean, revel in Him! Make it as clear as you can to all you meet that you're on their side, working with them and not against them. Help them see that the Master is about to arrive. He could show up any minute! Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let requests and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things that are true, noble, authentic, compelling, reputable, gracious--the best, not the worst...the beautiful, not the ugly...things to praise, not things to curse."

Those aren't my words. They're Paul's.

Celebrate God...help them...don't worry...God's wholeness...settle you down...things that are true.

Things that are true? God loves me. Has a relationship with me. One that is becoming more and more each day. He's with me. Even when He's giggling. Especially when He's giggling.

Paul (the writer) goes on and says, "I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am."

Wow.

I want to be more like Jesus. Like God. Rolling on a floor and laughing at myself. Remembering that He's in control. That I don't have to worry.

And I want you to have joy too.

So here I am.

Rejoicing.

...and still thinking about chips and salsa. Joy makes me hungry!

Get Lost. Er...I mean...Found.

When we were growing up, my sister had several skills that I didn't possess.

She was quick and agile...like a ninja. Once, she stabbed me in the leg with a pencil before I could say, "Number Two".

She could make quick decisions. "I don't want to play your game. Let's play Barbies."

And she was also quick at getting lost.

She got lost in the mall one time. She was supposed to stay with me...but she got bored and wandered off. I think we were in a bookstore...or was it a shoe store? I can spend hours in either place...just enjoying the smell of new books and new shoes...so please forgive me. My memory's a little fuzzy here...because all I can really recall now is my panicked Mom when she realized Jill was missing. At one point, only dogs could hear her frenzied rant.

What's that? Oh, we found her. She was fine. Looking at clothes in Lerner's, I think.

And another time she got lost was in the cornfield next to our house. We would play hide and seek in the corn...and go in a couple of rows or so...and then run out of the corn. Only I think she must've gotten turned around and ran farther into the corn than I did.

Or I might've convinced her it was a good idea. I mean, c'mon...that pencil stabbing hurt! And I don't even have to tell you how unhappy I was with her Barbie decision.

What's that? Oh, my Dad found her that time.

Again Jill came back. She'd been lost. And then found.

Recently, Jill got a new car. And it's got a navigational system built into it.

My guess is that she'll never get lost again.

Well...as long as she's driving in her car.

Speaking of driving in a car, I got lost once while driving home from college with a boyfriend of mine. Who had a very poor sense of direction.

Or was it simply a very carefully plotted plan to spend more than 45 minutes with me? Hm....or perhaps he was a huge Gilligan's Island fan...because that relatively short drive home quickly became a three hour tour.

A Three. Hour. Tour.

Now I'm not going to say that the weather started getting rough, but when we finally got home...his Dad was not happy. You see, this was many...many...years ago. Before cell phones were in the hands of teens...and waaaaayyyyy before GPS.

Of course, a simple roadmap might've helped...but Tim didn't seem to possess one of those. You know, now that I think about it, I don't know why I even went out with him in the first place!

But I'm getting off track.

And 'getting off track' is exactly what I wanted to talk about!

It's as simple as turning left instead of right. Of walking into the store next door...or the next corn row.

It doesn't take much.

It doesn't take long, either. Before we're driving/walking/running in circles...

desperately wanting someone to help us get back...or stubbornly believing in our own power to find our way.

Sometimes it seems very overwhelming. We can lose hope...we can worry...we can project that things will never be the way that they were! We'll never find our way out! WE'LL BE STUCK HERE IN FINDLAY FOREVER, TIM! TURN THE CAR AROUND AND JUST GO BACK! WHY DON'T YOU LISTEN TO ME? WE'RE GONNA BE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE! WHEN WE GET HOME...IF THAT EVER HAPPENS...I'M BREAKING UP WITH YOU AND DATING YOUR BROTHER! DO YOU HEAR ME!

Sorry...off track again.

Take a deep breath. Close your eyes. Think of what you've lost recently. Has time gotten away from you? Is there a project you've been putting off? Perhaps you've overspent this month...and your budget's out of whack. Maybe you've not been exercising...or overeating...or both! Maybe you haven't called that person you've been meaning to call.

Whatever you've lost...take a moment now and think about it.

Maybe you hadn't even realized how far off you'd gotten. Maybe it's just one step.

And now think about this...

the best part of getting lost? Is being found.

Roll with the Changes

Um....if you're reading this...I need to warn you.

This isn't really for you.

Not today.

Oh, I know that my intent has been to try and encourage folks...but I'm not so sure that I'm gonna be able to do that today.

So I'm going to talk to myself for a moment.

Feel free to listen in...I got nothin' to hide. You know what?

Just go ahead and have a seat...whatever....that's fine. Make yourself at home.

As for me...I'm going to pretend that you're not here.

And talk to myself.

You know, to make myself feel better.

Don't you do that?

Wait a second, I'm supposed to be ignoring you. Never mind my questions. They're rhetorical.

Here's the thing, C. I hate being angry.

And lately...I've been very angry.

So I need to get rid of it.

Not the anger. That's just a symptom. That's what you see...like when you've got the stomach flu. No one can SEE the flu....until you're throwing up.

So anger isn't the 'real' problem here...but because it's a symptom of something...I need to look closely at what is making me angry....at the throw up....so to speak.

Is it people?

Hmmmmmmmmmmm...

Is it the way I see myself?

Hmmmmmmmmmmm...

What is it that makes me so angry?

It's simple.

Plain and simple.

But...sigh....I don't know if I want to think about that right now. Let's um...let's change the subject.

I just finished watching "Pay it Forward" on DVD. A really interesting movie. 'Course, I personally adore Kevin Spacey's acting...and you can't go wrong with Haley Joel Osment...and throwing in Jon Bon Jovi? THE Jon Bon Jovi?

Well...all I can say is that someone had me in mind when they made this film.

Tell 'em about the phone call...

I'm....I'm not talking to them. I'm talking to you, remember?

Tell 'em....it's funny!

It's not funny. It's sad. Tragic, kinda. Although I will admit that there's some irony there...

Go on...tell them about the phone call.

Okay...fine.

So I'm watching this movie...about this idea of doing something nice for someone...something that they can't do for themselves...to see what difference it would make in the world...to see if it would make it a better place...

I really don't want to talk about this...

Go on...it'll be fine.

In the middle of the movie, Jacob comes over with the phone. It's the clinic. Now, my daughter had an appt. scheduled at this clinic for tomorrow. Not with a doc...but with a dietitian. The scheduler tells me that our insurance plan doesn't cover dietitians...and bottom line...I have to pay $100 tomorrow out of my pocket or cancel the appt.

So I cancel the appt. We don't have that kind of money to spend on 'advice' right now...I can't justify it in my head.

Hannah is sitting on bed next to me...watching the movie.

"Was that the clinic?" she asks.

"Yes."

"What's going on? Why'd you cancel the appointment?"

I have to stop here....because lately....I've been very angry about everything! And this is just ONE MORE THING! All I've done is remind myself of how much I can screw things up. Of how I don't do enough...or have enough...or care enough...

Enough....enough.....enough.

Sometimes it seems like a losing battle, doesn't it? I mean....sometimes you're trying to "do the right thing"...and you're not able to...to do anything.

So...you know what you do?

I'm asking you. What do you do?

Well...I talk to myself...and by doing that....I change my perspective.

How? With gratitude, forgiveness, and a DQ Blizzard.

No...I'm kidding....kinda.

The Blizzard isn't really that helpful.

Hey, what do you know? Turns out I don't need a dietitian's advice after all!!

Ah...I'm feelin' a little better already.

My friends...you always have a chance to make a difference in someone's life. Will you continue to be angry...to hold back on forgiving...to forget what you do have in your life? Will you focus on the negative?

Or will you change your perspective?

Catch me if you can!

It still irks me when I think about it. To this day, I don't understand why I did what I did...and yet, looking back...I shouldn't have been surprised.

But I was.

Here's what happened: We were living in a trailer park at the time. I was a stay at home mom with my two kids. My son was 3 years old. He had a red tricycle.

One day he hopped onto the trike while we were in the yard, playing. His sister was away at pre-school that morning. I was on the cordless phone, in fact...talking away to someone, as I watched Jake play.

I watch him get on his trike and go west down our street. No biggie. He'd done that cartrillions of times. He ALWAYS turned around at the neighbor's bush and came back...to ride past our place to our other neighbor's bush. SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) for Jake.

So I'm watching him...ride the trike...as I'm talking...and he reaches the bush.


Except...

Except...

he doesn't turn around.

Okay...still not concerned...I walk into the street and watch him as I'm talking on the phone. He's just truckin' on his trike as fast as he can go!

Pedaling away...

not looking back...

and definitely not turning around...!

I start to follow him on foot...still talking on the phone...still expecting him to turn around. Or at least to stop...but he doesn't. He's almost to the end of the street now...and getting ready to turn right.

And I start to panic a little.

There's a speed limit for cars in the park of 10 mph...and the streets are really just wide sidewalks, for the most part...so it's not the traffic at this time of day that I'm really afraid about...it's his distance from me that is freaking me out.

I'm off the phone now, considering my options. I stop in the road and think, "I should get the car and go get him." But I'm afraid to take my eyes off of him for even a second and so I start walking really fast, believing still that he will turn around on his own and come back.

I swear the little stinker is pedaling faster!

I see some folks in their yard. "Stop him!" I think, in my head. "Can't you see that he's gone too far! That he's getting away from me?!"

They don't stop him. And why should they? He's not driving his trike recklessly...and I suppose they could see me following him. Or, perhaps, like most of us these days, they just didn't want to get involved.

At any rate, I'm really getting angry now...and almost running. WHY CAN'T I CATCH UP TO HIM! HE'S THREE! HE'S NOT AN OLYMPIC DECATHALON MEDALIST, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!
We are now about three streets over from our trailer. My brain cannot even understand how he got this far...and like the Energizer Bunny...Jake keeps going...and going....

I holler at someone else in their yard. I holler at Jake to stop!

Neither responds.

"This cannot be happening!" I think. I start to blame myself for my stupid decision to not get the car...that I should've stopped him sooner...etc...etc. Well, shouldawouldacoulda isn't helping right this minute.

And I am so mad at him!

How dare he pedal away from me...without asking! Just wait til his father gets home!!!
It's like, seven blocks away now...and he's slowing down. My adrenaline kicks into overdrive and I approach him quickly....like a freight train.

He sees me coming. And...

And smiles.

And then begins to pedal like he's never pedaled before!!!!

WHAT?? You think this is a game, little boy???

Sweat is streaming down my face...my heart is pounding...like the Incredible Hulk, I let out a blood-curdling roar.


STOPPPPP RIGHTTTTTT NOW!!!!!!

He stops.

And waits for me to limp up to him.

My hands are on my knees. I'm trying to catch my breath. And rant at the same time.

No real sound comes out.

Just...

"Ya...huff huff...you...no...ri...huff huff...yo...huff...ki....me...huff huff...thirty...huff huff...police station....huff huff...wish...huff...no...mercy."

His response?

"Mommy, I'm tired."

He holds up his little sweaty boychild hand to me.

"OH NO!" I find my mother's voice...it sounds very, very loud. "YOU WANTED TO RIDE YOUR TRIKE THIS FAR....YOU'RE GONNA RIDE IT ALL THE WAY BACK!!!"

And...as Jackie Gleason would say, "away we go....!"

No harm...no foul. Just a little boy enjoying a ride. And a mother...suddenly realizing how quickly her children can become independent...and how she does not have control over that.

And terrified. Purely, completely...terrified.

I thought, my friends, that I would never feel that way again.

Until last night.

When we bought our daughter her first cell phone.


I'm in the car next to her...and I hear myself reciting tengaprillion rules and regs on phone usage at her.

And it hits me like a ton of trikes.

She's riding down the street...just like Jake.

And I'm trying to keep up...to make sure nothing happens to her...but there's only so much I can do, you know?

After all...she's going to be in high school. She's not three years old, for crying out loud!

Oh, sure. I have some control over the phone business. I understand that. She even understands that. But I'm not able to keep up with her.

I'm not supposed to. That's not how growing up works. Really only one thing I can do.

And so, my friends....I do it earnestly...right now.

"Keep our kids close to you, Father. Thank you for giving them to us for the short time we have. Keep them safe when they ride away from us. And keep us sane...and mindful of Your love for children...and especially Your love for parents of high schoolers."

Can I get an Amen?

Clean up, Clean up...everybody do your share!

Sometimes I'm amazed by all the useless information I carry around in my head.

Sure, it's helpful in a trivia contest once in a while...but it makes me wonder what I could be putting in my head that might be more useful. More helpful...or healthy, maybe?

As I've been going through my home getting rid of stuff that really has no place or use anymore...well...it's got me to thinking about my mind and what's cluttering it up right now. I've got fifteen minutes. Let's de-clutter, you and I. Okay?

Great...here we are at the doorway to my mind...wow...it's a mess...where do we begin?

Ah...okay...if you'll step over that pile of 'never gonna happen' worries I've got...and follow me past that towering stack of 'times I've been right about something' reminders...oh! And watch your step there! That's a slippery mess of 'mistakes I can't seem to forgive myself for'. You slip into that and you'll be down for a few days, trust me!

Here's a garbage bag. Just toss them in there. Thanks.

What else can we get rid of? Oh...I know...there's this big ol' twelve volume set of Foolish Fantasies o' mine. I was gonna try and sell it on Ebay, you know....but I never got around to it.

Speaking of that...here's a poster. What's it say? "Procrastination-Do it NOW!" I don't really want that anymore...you can toss it.

Wait...what's this? A tiny, little locket?

Huh...I haven't seen this locket in a lonnnnnnnnnnnnnng time. Look how dusty it is.

What? What's in it?

Oh...just some things I'm grateful for. Nothing huge.

Sell it on Ebay? NO WAY! This is important to me. I don't want to part with it!

So why was it buried under those other things, if it's so important?

Hm....good question. You know what? Let's um....let's finish up this sinkful of algebraic symbols and go tackle the clutter in your MIND!

Argue all you want with me, friends...I've rarely used those!!! :)

Sudden Impact and Super Powers

I got an email from a college friend today. In it he mentioned our theatre professor, Dr. Golden. I hadn't thought of Dr. G for years...but as soon as I saw his name I was transported back in time and heard him say clearly, "Qvestions?"

Not "questions?"...like normal folk would say...but "Kvest-shuns?"...with like, a German accent. The first time I heard it was Freshman Year...and he always said it like that...as he sipped his Diet Pepsi.


Dr. G was an important person for me to listen to at that time of my life. He had a lot of information to share. So I paid attention. And his words shaped who I am now...

The other day I mentioned how people pleasing is a problem of mine. And while we should not give a lot of power TO people...they do have influence in our lives, whether we like it or not.

And we have influence in other's lives. Whether we realize it or not.

Got me thinking...about the others that have impacted my life with just a few words. Some were encouraging...

like my second grade teacher, Miss Knapp.

Some...like my high school algebra teacher, Mrs. Frisbie...were NOT encouraging.

Both voices, however, are still as clear as crystal in my mind. Both shaped my thinking...

Makes me wonder.

Makes me wonder how many folks are listening to my words in their mind...(perhaps going back several years even!)...and how they are still able to hear me...loud and clear.

It's sobering.

It's humbling.

It's...um...quite frankly....terrifying.

This past Sunday a good friend asked me which super power I'd like to have. And I said I'd like to be able to breathe underwater.

Mostly because I like being in the water...

and partly because I sorta kinda have this secret crush on Aquaman.


But as I consider that question now, I think it's safe to say that we all have a super power. The power of our words.

We can use them for good.

Or for evil.

Think about that.

We are not perfect people. We say stupid things. Sometimes we speak without thinking. Sometimes we speak without thinking about the consequences of sharing our secret Aquaman crush with our friends...

hm...

Your words have impact. They have power. Use them wisely, friends.

Now...are there any....qvestions?