Friday, March 31, 2006

RevGalBlogPal Friday Meme: As My Mother Used to Say

The Assignment: This morning I had a moment in which I found myself wanting to reply to my teenager the way my father used to reply to me. Most of us have some classic family phrases or retorts or truisms handed down from parents to children.

Name five things you used to hear your mother or father (or even a grandparent) say, especially things you might be surprised to hear coming out of your own mouth.


Good timing on this as my family is descending upon us this weekend (in a good way).

1)
"You look like Lilly off the pickle boat."
Meaning you look unkempt. It was usually accompanied by patting down hair and ROUGHLY tucking shirts back in. Now my son's name fits right into that phrase but I do not like his name with a 'y' on the end. I correct people at church enough already.

Although I gotta admit as a former tomboy who heard this phrase A LOT while being put back together I have already said it a couple of times just because I can.

Has anyone else heard of that phrase or know where it comes from?

2)
Child: "Mom, It hurts when I breathe."
Loving Mom: "Well then don't breathe."
We tease my Mom about this one all the time especially now that she is filling your stereotypical grandmother role and lets The Boy get away with everything. He's fussing in the shopping cart seat? Gram will get him out!

3)
"R.H.I.P. - Rank has its privileges"
Used whenever an adult got to do something that we were not allowed to do/have. Usually it meant that I had just caught my Mom getting a cookie right before dinner or something like that.

4)
"None so dumb as one who wants to be dumb."
You have to say this in a sing-songy voice in order for it to be totally accurate. The best example of its use would be in relation to my Dad.

Dad (sitting at the table): Where's the buttah? (insert Brooklyn, Jewish accent)
Mom (also at the table): In the refrigerator, go get it. (She is cleverly onto the fact that what he really means is, "Go get the butter." )
Dad (begrudgingly getting up and opening refrigerator): I don't see it. (Apparantly we had stealth butter in our house.)
Mom (rolling her eyes to us): None so dumb as one who wants to BE dumb.

At times this was also interchangeable with "If it were a snake it woulda bit you."

5)
This one needs no words and is recognized by children everywhere as:
'The Look' (insert ominous echo)

I include it here because back in the day I could actually 'feel' my Mom giving me 'the look' and would warn my friends NOT to look in her direction lest they be turned into a pillar of stealth butter.

As a Youth Director I used it to similar effect, but have not yet pulled it out on The Boy.
He is still too cute.

BONUS!
When it was a cloudy day with just a few breaks of blue sky my great grandmother would say something like, "Not enough blue to paint a dutch boy's pants."

I am leaving out such classics as: "Whatever" and "Oh well" - that last one still makes my skin crawl. And the opening to every school year with, "Let's turn over a new leaf this year."

THE MOST IMPORTANT ONE OF ALL!
As we got older my father would increasingly say, "Your mother and I love you and support you no matter what you do."

He said it so often that we gave it a reference number so he wouldn't have to actually say the whole thing while we rolled our eyes through it.

But that phrase was the key to their parenting. I was a tomboy and allowed to be one. They never pushed me to be anything different. They raised two daughters and although we certainly have our moments both of us are confident, independent and know who we are.

I am so grateful for that especially since in the neighborhood we grew up in it would have been very easy to get caught up in the need for us to dress right, and wear make-up and do stupid things so we would at least have boyfriends.

If I can raise our child(ren) with a strong sense of self then I will consider it a job well done and the ultimate testament to all the phrases, sayings and values that my parents passed along to me.

So a bit long, but there you have it. Thank you Songbird, that was fun and...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!!

RevGalBlogPal Friday Meme: As My Mother Used to Say

The Assignment: This morning I had a moment in which I found myself wanting to reply to my teenager the way my father used to reply to me. Most of us have some classic family phrases or retorts or truisms handed down from parents to children.

Name five things you used to hear your mother or father (or even a grandparent) say, especially things you might be surprised to hear coming out of your own mouth.


Good timing on this as my family is descending upon us this weekend (in a good way).

1)
"You look like Lilly off the pickle boat."
Meaning you look unkempt. It was usually accompanied by patting down hair and ROUGHLY tucking shirts back in. Now my son's name fits right into that phrase but I do not like his name with a 'y' on the end. I correct people at church enough already.

Although I gotta admit as a former tomboy who heard this phrase A LOT while being put back together I have already said it a couple of times just because I can.

Has anyone else heard of that phrase or know where it comes from?

2)
Child: "Mom, It hurts when I breathe."
Loving Mom: "Well then don't breathe."
We tease my Mom about this one all the time especially now that she is filling your stereotypical grandmother role and lets The Boy get away with everything. He's fussing in the shopping cart seat? Gram will get him out!

3)
"R.H.I.P. - Rank has its privileges"
Used whenever an adult got to do something that we were not allowed to do/have. Usually it meant that I had just caught my Mom getting a cookie right before dinner or something like that.

4)
"None so dumb as one who wants to be dumb."
You have to say this in a sing-songy voice in order for it to be totally accurate. The best example of its use would be in relation to my Dad.

Dad (sitting at the table): Where's the buttah? (insert Brooklyn, Jewish accent)
Mom (also at the table): In the refrigerator, go get it. (She is cleverly onto the fact that what he really means is, "Go get the butter." )
Dad (begrudgingly getting up and opening refrigerator): I don't see it. (Apparantly we had stealth butter in our house.)
Mom (rolling her eyes to us): None so dumb as one who wants to BE dumb.

At times this was also interchangeable with "If it were a snake it woulda bit you."

5)
This one needs no words and is recognized by children everywhere as:
'The Look' (insert ominous echo)

I include it here because back in the day I could actually 'feel' my Mom giving me 'the look' and would warn my friends NOT to look in her direction lest they be turned into a pillar of stealth butter.

As a Youth Director I used it to similar effect, but have not yet pulled it out on The Boy.
He is still too cute.

BONUS!
When it was a cloudy day with just a few breaks of blue sky my great grandmother would say something like, "Not enough blue to paint a dutch boy's pants."

I am leaving out such classics as: "Whatever" and "Oh well" - that last one still makes my skin crawl. And the opening to every school year with, "Let's turn over a new leaf this year."

THE MOST IMPORTANT ONE OF ALL!
As we got older my father would increasingly say, "Your mother and I love you and support you no matter what you do."

He said it so often that we gave it a reference number so he wouldn't have to actually say the whole thing while we rolled our eyes through it.

But that phrase was the key to their parenting. I was a tomboy and allowed to be one. They never pushed me to be anything different. They raised two daughters and although we certainly have our moments both of us are confident, independent and know who we are.

I am so grateful for that especially since in the neighborhood we grew up in it would have been very easy to get caught up in the need for us to dress right, and wear make-up and do stupid things so we would at least have boyfriends.

If I can raise our child(ren) with a strong sense of self then I will consider it a job well done and the ultimate testament to all the phrases, sayings and values that my parents passed along to me.

So a bit long, but there you have it. Thank you Songbird, that was fun and...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!!

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Letter to the Emergent Soapbox

Dear Mr. Emergent Worship Seminar Leader:

I was wondering if you could come on down off your soapbox/pedestal so I could speak to you for a moment... I'll wait.







Took awhile didn't it?

I wanted to let you know how much I appreciated you coming out to the middle of a red state (the exact region that helped change us from a blue state) and sharing your ideas for emergent worship. I was so inspired. I think everyone was, especially when it became obvious that your ideas were solidly based in reformed tradition and liturgical fact. Your passion and love for Christ was so evident and contagious. Even the grumpiest were taking notes.

Truly, your keynote was inspiring.

I went to one of your classes and would have loved if things had been more structured, but I understand 'ENFP's a bit and was willing to go with the flow. Again, your passion, energy, knowledge and committment to what you were saying and doing were evident.

You love the Lord. Amen brother, Amen.

I was wondering if you realized who you were talking to when you said, "get the flags out of the Sanctuary."

With that on the table let me say this I agree with you. We are not worshipping the flag. We are not worshipping America or our leaders. We worship God. I agree when we say, "God bless America" we should also be saying "God bless Iraq. God bless Afghanistan. God bless Sudan." Amen brother, again I say amen.

I wonder though if you were so high up on your soapbox that you failed to see that you totally shut down your audience. In the name of what you believe is right - and again I agree with you - you laid for naught everything else you had taught us.

I was seeing an opening, an opportunity to do something crazy and radical in my worship service - some might even say emerging - by moving the font into the middle of the Sanctuary and using it during the Declaration of Pardon. Heck, I already got it out of the back room and into the front on a permanent basis, what is one more step. But once you made your flag declaration and would not back down (fair enough) or graciously change the subject (why?) it was over for me and for every other pastor in there who is patiently paying their dues at 'We Have Never Done It That Way Before Rural Red State Church.'

Do you know what one of the first pieces of advice I give to new pastors out here? "Don't move the flag." Why? Because their ministry will not even get off the ground and my denomination is losing young pastors fast enough as it is.

Maybe you see me as a coward and believe me sometimes I call myself that in the mirror. I hide my cowardice under phrases like, "don't want to die on that mountain." So yes, I do call myself 'coward'.

I also call myself breadwinner.

I have rambled on long enough. Thanks again for coming out... I only wish that your visit would be remembered for all it really was rather than for what most folks will come out remembering.

You can climb back up now... I will hand you your guitar.

Peace be with You,
The Woman Who Heard We Cannot Do Anything Recommended by 'That' Man

Letter to the Emergent Soapbox

Dear Mr. Emergent Worship Seminar Leader:

I was wondering if you could come on down off your soapbox/pedestal so I could speak to you for a moment... I'll wait.







Took awhile didn't it?

I wanted to let you know how much I appreciated you coming out to the middle of a red state (the exact region that helped change us from a blue state) and sharing your ideas for emergent worship. I was so inspired. I think everyone was, especially when it became obvious that your ideas were solidly based in reformed tradition and liturgical fact. Your passion and love for Christ was so evident and contagious. Even the grumpiest were taking notes.

Truly, your keynote was inspiring.

I went to one of your classes and would have loved if things had been more structured, but I understand 'ENFP's a bit and was willing to go with the flow. Again, your passion, energy, knowledge and committment to what you were saying and doing were evident.

You love the Lord. Amen brother, Amen.

I was wondering if you realized who you were talking to when you said, "get the flags out of the Sanctuary."

With that on the table let me say this I agree with you. We are not worshipping the flag. We are not worshipping America or our leaders. We worship God. I agree when we say, "God bless America" we should also be saying "God bless Iraq. God bless Afghanistan. God bless Sudan." Amen brother, again I say amen.

I wonder though if you were so high up on your soapbox that you failed to see that you totally shut down your audience. In the name of what you believe is right - and again I agree with you - you laid for naught everything else you had taught us.

I was seeing an opening, an opportunity to do something crazy and radical in my worship service - some might even say emerging - by moving the font into the middle of the Sanctuary and using it during the Declaration of Pardon. Heck, I already got it out of the back room and into the front on a permanent basis, what is one more step. But once you made your flag declaration and would not back down (fair enough) or graciously change the subject (why?) it was over for me and for every other pastor in there who is patiently paying their dues at 'We Have Never Done It That Way Before Rural Red State Church.'

Do you know what one of the first pieces of advice I give to new pastors out here? "Don't move the flag." Why? Because their ministry will not even get off the ground and my denomination is losing young pastors fast enough as it is.

Maybe you see me as a coward and believe me sometimes I call myself that in the mirror. I hide my cowardice under phrases like, "don't want to die on that mountain." So yes, I do call myself 'coward'.

I also call myself breadwinner.

I have rambled on long enough. Thanks again for coming out... I only wish that your visit would be remembered for all it really was rather than for what most folks will come out remembering.

You can climb back up now... I will hand you your guitar.

Peace be with You,
The Woman Who Heard We Cannot Do Anything Recommended by 'That' Man

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

The Pastor Trap

I think one of the biggest challenges of being a pastor is being there for your parishioners in a way that fulfills their needs, not necessarily our needs.

Now depending on how you read that sentence you either elicited a "duh." or a "wha?" - here is what I mean on a larger scale:

Parishioner Couple have been in a car accident and Spouse A is having emergency surgey. The pastor waltzes in, storms towards Spouse B, hugs, reads Scripture, begins to pray fervently and loudly for the well-being of Spouse A. At first glance this might not seem too bad, but is this what Spouse B needs and wants at this time? Maybe Spouse B just wants to know you are there. Maybe Spouse B needs someone to pick up the children. Maybe Spouse B needs a little space.

The question the pastor needs to ask themselves is: Am I doing these actions because it makes me feel needed, feel like a better person/pastor, look like I am doing my job...
or am I doing these things because that is what Spouse B needs at this time?

Here is another example on a smaller scale. If a parishioner is going into the hospital for surgery I always ask them if they would like me to come in and pray with them before they go in. Some say no. Why? Some would rather not be seen in that flimsy gown... some would rather not be seen 'in that state'... some who come from a different religious background equate a preacher's presence in the hospital to the giving of last rites and understandably want nothing to do with that!

God hears my prayers for them from home just as well as God would from the hospital, so if I force my presence on them is it for their benefit... or for mine?

Recently a well-respected and beloved minister in the Presbyterian church in a nearby town died suddenly and unexpectedly. The Memorial service was not until a few weeks later in order to get arrangements made... including travel arrangements for the many people she had touched from all over the world.

I had maybe spoken with her three times and was about to begin some committee work with her but at the point of her death 'acquaintance' was definitely how you would describe the relationship.

So, you go to the service to show your respect for her and her family, right? Well, I really struggled with this. Was I going for me (colleagues see me pay respects, able to remark on service in get togethers with others, etc...) or was I going for her and her family (respects). I knew it was going to be VERY full; should I - who barely knew her - take the seat of someone who needed that opportunity to grieve their friend?

When I told my friends of my struggles they understood; when I opened up this can of worms to a fellow colleague - only because she overheard me - she looked at me with total disgust. (She by the way immediately called the widower when she heard the news despite the fact that she is only their acquaintance as well. I mean really, who was she doing that for, him, or her own need to be there in an emergency to make her feel like a better pastor?)

I know I have an issue with cynicism. And I admit that definitely comes into play when I judge the actions of others (pretty sure you are NOT supposed to do that). However, when it comes to my own actions it is not cyncism as much as the desire to be genuine.

By the way, I did go to the Memorial Service to pay my respects. We sat in the third overflow area and watched it on the big screen. It really was a beautiful service... oh yeah, and it was 1 hour, 59 minutes, and 4 seconds (I couldn't resist).

Monday, March 27, 2006

They Just Don't Make 'Em Like This Anymore







A Bit Of Both

You are 60% Calvin and 40% Hobbes
Calvin & Hobbes, like a scruffy yin and yang, are in perfect balance within you. Like Calvin, you're weird, a bit insecure, and can be a trouble-maker. But like Hobbes, you're down to earth and sensitive. It's a risk to say it here, after just a ten question test, but I'll bet you're smarter than most. Both Calvin and Hobbes are crafty, clever characters, and any one made from equal parts of each is a force to be reckoned with.

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Eery

I am in no way making a direct comparison.

While working on a fake 'Jerusalem Times' newspaper for our Sunday School class I took a break and scanned the internet a bit. I landed at CNN and read a bit about the Afghan man man who converted to Christianity (17 years ago) and may be put to death for it.

The link above is a different article about it but when I looked the expanded headline said:
Under Mounting Foreign Pressure President Harmid Kazai searches for a way to free Rahman without angering Muslim clerics who have called for him to be killed."

I then flipped over to what I had been working on for the Sunday School class and it said:
Under Pressure from Family Pontius Pilate searches for a way to free Jesus without angering the religious leaders who have called for him to be killed.

It gave me chills.

Friday, March 24, 2006

RevGalBlogPal Friday Meme: Planet Will Smama

RevGal Friday Five: Planet Your Name

songbird wrote: Yesterday, as I drove past Planet Fitness on my way to Planet Dog, and remembering there is also a Planet Hollywood, I wondered, "If there were a Planet Songbird, what would it look like?" I began to envision a store selling all my favorite things, probably in the kind of house I lived in as a child, one of those late 19th-century houses with a long hallway on the side and double parlors on the other, with windows to the floor facing the front porch.
Name five things that would be on the shelves of Planet (Your Name).


Well, at first I was thinking big, warehouse type store, but the more I thought about it the more I thought about a beachfront Victorian with an outdoor shower, beautiful wood floor and beams in the ceiling to match, wrap around porches on both floors and lots of nooks and some hidden walls and passageways.

Inside you will find:
  1. big comfy couches that you sink into yet somehow they still have the ability to hold your drink straight when you set it down,
  2. ice cold beer on tap but none of the idiots that usually hang out at places that have ice cold beer on tap,
  3. 'nannies on demand' so I could show off my cute child, but when his face (or butt) needed to be wiped I could call them in,
  4. pre-written, brilliant, uncopyrighted sermons and the bulletin liturgy that goes with them with just the right mix of traditional and contemporary,
  5. live eclectic music but at just the right volume to enjoy and yet you can still carry on a conversation.


RevGalBlogPal Friday Meme: Planet Will Smama

RevGal Friday Five: Planet Your Name

songbird wrote: Yesterday, as I drove past Planet Fitness on my way to Planet Dog, and remembering there is also a Planet Hollywood, I wondered, "If there were a Planet Songbird, what would it look like?" I began to envision a store selling all my favorite things, probably in the kind of house I lived in as a child, one of those late 19th-century houses with a long hallway on the side and double parlors on the other, with windows to the floor facing the front porch.
Name five things that would be on the shelves of Planet (Your Name).


Well, at first I was thinking big, warehouse type store, but the more I thought about it the more I thought about a beachfront Victorian with an outdoor shower, beautiful wood floor and beams in the ceiling to match, wrap around porches on both floors and lots of nooks and some hidden walls and passageways.

Inside you will find:
  1. big comfy couches that you sink into yet somehow they still have the ability to hold your drink straight when you set it down,
  2. ice cold beer on tap but none of the idiots that usually hang out at places that have ice cold beer on tap,
  3. 'nannies on demand' so I could show off my cute child, but when his face (or butt) needed to be wiped I could call them in,
  4. pre-written, brilliant, uncopyrighted sermons and the bulletin liturgy that goes with them with just the right mix of traditional and contemporary,
  5. live eclectic music but at just the right volume to enjoy and yet you can still carry on a conversation.


Well, it ain't Hawaii or Australia...

...but three weeks from now it will do!


Thursday, March 23, 2006

'SHE' Started It

God,

I am still waiting for my friends and me to be transported. Maybe that picture is not to your satisfaction. How about this one?


Ooooh, aren't you the tricky girl making the blogger picture poster thingy not work right so I cannot put up another picture.

Fine. I will stick with my first choice then. Anytime...

... we are waiting.

- will smama

PS - I could do without the headache today. Thank you.

HA! I got it...


ADDENDUM: Thank you for the help with the headache (although the trip would have been nice). As you well know, the above is a picture of Hanalei on Kauai, Hawaii. The below is a picture of Club Med in Australia.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

If Only It Were That Easy



If I post this picture over and over again will I eventually
be transported there?

Monday, March 20, 2006

Red Whine

This clearly falls in the category of slfwip (silly, little, first-world, insignificant problem).

My husband does not drink. He grew up in a conservative home and definitely still carries around some of the 'alcohol is evil' foundation he was brought up with. He also does not like how it tastes.

I know there are plenty of women who would do anything to be able to state: "My husband does not drink." I am really not complaining, I promise.

Yet every once in awhile I wish there was someone to share a glass of red with after a long, strenuous day. Somehow Sierra Mist just does not have the same effect.

Red Whine

This clearly falls in the category of slfwip (silly, little, first-world, insignificant problem).

My husband does not drink. He grew up in a conservative home and definitely still carries around some of the 'alcohol is evil' foundation he was brought up with. He also does not like how it tastes.

I know there are plenty of women who would do anything to be able to state: "My husband does not drink." I am really not complaining, I promise.

Yet every once in awhile I wish there was someone to share a glass of red with after a long, strenuous day. Somehow Sierra Mist just does not have the same effect.

Friday, March 17, 2006

RevGalBlogPal Friday Five - Spring Break Edition

For today's Friday Five, tell us about five ways you have spent a spring vacation or holiday, pleasantly or un-. And as a bonus question, describe your dream spring vacation.

First the Spring Breaks:

1) In high school and grade school February break was spent down at my grandparent's house in Florida. Their second guest bedroom was their boat parked at their dock. Talk about a spark for a kid's imagination! There are a lot of fun memories from those trips - interesting since occasionally we did go to Disney or one of the other big tourist attractions - yet my great memories revolve around all-you-can-eat homemade strawberry shortcake, jigsaw puzzles with Gram, taking their dingy out, riding bikes with my grandfather... basically too much to post within my self-imposed boundaries of a meme.

2) In college I was on the softball team and our season had already begun during Spring Break. So... no drinking, partying, or going away. BUT do not feel too bad for me - I went to college in Florida. My dorm rooms had a view of the bridge, I lived 10 minutes away from the beach... basically I did not have to go to Spring Break because Spring Break came to me (see #5).

3) Senior year in college there was no softball for me due to injury. Soooo, perfect opportunity for me to PAR-TAY. Thing is, I was mainly a beer drinker as I enjoyed the buzz, but always wanted to be in control. In fact, my college friends still tease me about how we would all be at a party and I would basically just hang back and keep my eye on all of them.
One night during Spring Break I decided to go with them to a bar that was having $5 all you can drink ladies night.

I vaguely remember a couple of amaretto sours plus God only knows what, playing my best games of pool ever, then the bathroom... I was home by 8. The thing is the sickness is not really what made me decide to go home, it was that I knew I was WAY drunk and I did not want to be that out of control. Say it with me children, "Beer before liquor, never sicker."


Interesting side note: the next day a female co-ed known for her small frame (4'6")and irresponsible drinking habits approached me and asked me if I had been drugged the night before because she thought she had. I said no, what did you drink?

3 Long Island Iced Teas.
Ummm, call me crazy but I think we found the culprit.

4) One of my favorite stories...
Once again in college one of my friends came to tell us that she had a way to get a free stay in Daytona Beach.
US: Great, how did you do that?
HER: I joined the Young Republicans Club.
US: Uh, are you a young Republican?
HER: No, I just decided that I wanted to go to Daytona Beach for the weekend.
US: You can't do that. That's not right. You can't join a club just to go to Daytona Beach.
HER: They have more openings, do you want to go?
US: SURE!!!

So off we went. We rode with a VERY shall we say 'socially awkward guy' (my friends took one look at him and immediately called reverse shotgun). I spent about the first five minutes trying to do small talk and only received grunts in return.

Once we arrived the joke was on us for there was little time for beach because of all the bureaucracy practice that needed to be done. I still remember at the end of one incredibly long meeting where even the President of the group was obviously tired of it all, one Young Republican Clubber stood up and implored us all to change one of the resolutions and send it back through the system 'just for fun'.

I wish I could remember his name because I am sure he is in DC clogging up the system by now... either that or he was just indicted.

5) Going to college in Florida means everyone wants to stay with you during their Spring Break - nevermind the fact that you have your own classes to take, papers to write and exams to pass. Our campus numbers rose significantly through late February, March and April. So we did not have to travel far to meet a lot of fun folks and have a lot of great parties. Good times... not good grades, just good times.

BONUS QUESTION: Dream Spring Vacation
Except for the fact that TDH would HATE this I would love to go to one of those all-inclusive resorts where the other guests do not know your name (or your occupation) but all of the staff does.

RevGalBlogPal Friday Five - Spring Break Edition

For today's Friday Five, tell us about five ways you have spent a spring vacation or holiday, pleasantly or un-. And as a bonus question, describe your dream spring vacation.

First the Spring Breaks:

1) In high school and grade school February break was spent down at my grandparent's house in Florida. Their second guest bedroom was their boat parked at their dock. Talk about a spark for a kid's imagination! There are a lot of fun memories from those trips - interesting since occasionally we did go to Disney or one of the other big tourist attractions - yet my great memories revolve around all-you-can-eat homemade strawberry shortcake, jigsaw puzzles with Gram, taking their dingy out, riding bikes with my grandfather... basically too much to post within my self-imposed boundaries of a meme.

2) In college I was on the softball team and our season had already begun during Spring Break. So... no drinking, partying, or going away. BUT do not feel too bad for me - I went to college in Florida. My dorm rooms had a view of the bridge, I lived 10 minutes away from the beach... basically I did not have to go to Spring Break because Spring Break came to me (see #5).

3) Senior year in college there was no softball for me due to injury. Soooo, perfect opportunity for me to PAR-TAY. Thing is, I was mainly a beer drinker as I enjoyed the buzz, but always wanted to be in control. In fact, my college friends still tease me about how we would all be at a party and I would basically just hang back and keep my eye on all of them.
One night during Spring Break I decided to go with them to a bar that was having $5 all you can drink ladies night.

I vaguely remember a couple of amaretto sours plus God only knows what, playing my best games of pool ever, then the bathroom... I was home by 8. The thing is the sickness is not really what made me decide to go home, it was that I knew I was WAY drunk and I did not want to be that out of control. Say it with me children, "Beer before liquor, never sicker."


Interesting side note: the next day a female co-ed known for her small frame (4'6")and irresponsible drinking habits approached me and asked me if I had been drugged the night before because she thought she had. I said no, what did you drink?

3 Long Island Iced Teas.
Ummm, call me crazy but I think we found the culprit.

4) One of my favorite stories...
Once again in college one of my friends came to tell us that she had a way to get a free stay in Daytona Beach.
US: Great, how did you do that?
HER: I joined the Young Republicans Club.
US: Uh, are you a young Republican?
HER: No, I just decided that I wanted to go to Daytona Beach for the weekend.
US: You can't do that. That's not right. You can't join a club just to go to Daytona Beach.
HER: They have more openings, do you want to go?
US: SURE!!!

So off we went. We rode with a VERY shall we say 'socially awkward guy' (my friends took one look at him and immediately called reverse shotgun). I spent about the first five minutes trying to do small talk and only received grunts in return.

Once we arrived the joke was on us for there was little time for beach because of all the bureaucracy practice that needed to be done. I still remember at the end of one incredibly long meeting where even the President of the group was obviously tired of it all, one Young Republican Clubber stood up and implored us all to change one of the resolutions and send it back through the system 'just for fun'.

I wish I could remember his name because I am sure he is in DC clogging up the system by now... either that or he was just indicted.

5) Going to college in Florida means everyone wants to stay with you during their Spring Break - nevermind the fact that you have your own classes to take, papers to write and exams to pass. Our campus numbers rose significantly through late February, March and April. So we did not have to travel far to meet a lot of fun folks and have a lot of great parties. Good times... not good grades, just good times.

BONUS QUESTION: Dream Spring Vacation
Except for the fact that TDH would HATE this I would love to go to one of those all-inclusive resorts where the other guests do not know your name (or your occupation) but all of the staff does.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

What's The Catch?



The title of this book intrigues me.

Damage Control: How to Stop Making Jesus Look Bad
by Dean Merrill

BUT it was only given a brief review in what some may consider a conservative magazine so I am hesitant to take the plunge.

It is not the $10 plus s/h so much as the disappointment I fear. You know that sinking feeling you get when once again Christ's real message is skewered by those who say they know the truth...(P. Rob, Falwell, the majority of Republicans right now, etc...)

I am just tired of that pain.

Anybody know anything about the book or its author?

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

CHEERS!

Well, alright. But I would consider myself more of a local beer kind of gal.



You Are Heineken

You appreciate a good beer, but you're not a snob about it.
You like your beer mild and easy to drink, so you can concentrate on being drunk.
Overall, you're a friendly drunk who's likely to buy a whole round for your friends... many times.




By the way I edited what I did not like about this description. It was wrong so I deleted it.
Don't you judge me.

Addendum: Ha, Ha and don't judge me on the fact that I deleted things I disagreed with but left in the stuff about being drunk all the time.

Some day I will tell you about how I celebrated graduating from seminary and it will all make sense.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Unfair. Duh. Truth. Freedom.

Unfair.

In a post exactly a month ago I wrote about my newfound discipline of leaving a clean desk at the end of every day. The closet is still a nightmare, there are various piles around the periphery and my bookcases look like a mini-tornado went through. The desk is the discipline - for now.

Part of the challenge was that I would post a picture of what it looked like when I walked in today, March 14th.

It ain't pretty, BUT...

it is a bit unfair and here is why. My fellow pastors will back me up when I say that Sunday is also known by another title: Dump on the Pastor's Desk Day.

For the past month I have stuck to the plan and cleared off the desk. This Sunday I did leave some things on there albeit in piles.

Monday is normally my day off, but instead I had meetings starting at 5:30 and ending at 10. I stayed a bit late, but I was wiped out and actually could not keep my eyes open any longer.

So this morning I walked into my office and it was not pretty... and then I looked at my calendar and it said: Desk Picture.

DOH!

So that is the picture - raw and uncut.

It took me an hour to get it back to this. It took me that long because I followed the only touch a piece of paper once theory and I actually worked through the piles. And yeah, I am pretty proud about that. You will also note that that the 'Does this pulpit make my butt look big?' tank is on the computer screen.

Duh.

In a Lenten post I wrote this: I decided to join Leslee at Fresh Cut Flowers and cut down on my home computer time. This means no blogging or reading blogs or checking my work email from home.

Here is what I have learned:

  1. It is VERY HARD to not check my work email at home.
  2. If I do not blog at home then I blog at work and truly that is a not a good use of my time. It is much better to be at home and once The Boy is in bed and TDH is doing his thing then blog.
  3. It is STILL a major challenge to not check the work email... it is as if it is calling me.

Truth.

Admittedly I have put on a few pounds. My solution? Get pregnant again.

Alas, it did not work and now I am ready to admit that a distaste for getting on the elliptical trainer is not a good reason for getting pregnant... no matter how strong that distaste is.

I was on there for 40 minutes today. It felt good - the elliptical trainer that is.

Freedom.

Well, I was all ready to post triumphantly about how I and my laptop with its wireless connection were on the couch, but I did not get the power cord disconnected and reconnected in new place in time so I am, in fact, back at the dining room table where I have always been.

Phew, that felt good. I feel like I have been gone forever!

Thursday, March 9, 2006

The 'Suprising' Story Behind the Impossible Question

Phew, today has been a long day. A lot of denominational work (3 separate, long meetings), a career assessment lunch and a Lenten Bible Study.

And yet I want to give some explanation to the
post below.

I always knew TDH's hesitance to have children was a confidence issue rather than anything else it could have been. Everyone knew he would be a good Daddy, but him. Still, I did not want to do anything without him being on board with the decision.

So we went to marriage counseling. My thoughts on that were if we did decide not to have children, I wanted to work through all of that now so that well into our marriage I was not bitter about what we never had.

He had various reasons for not wanting children and in different conversations about it he made clear that he had never changed a diaper and was NOT into bodily fluids and would not be able to help with any of that.

Fine.

Then came the surprises.

One of his fears was of getting hurt. So my first surprise came when after we lost Baby Snowpea instead of saying no more pain, he instead was convinced that he indeed wanted to be a father.

If we were going to have a baby then he wanted a girl. It was very quiet in our car coming home from the ultrasound that clearly showed 'boy'. So again what a pleasant surprise to have him enthralled with his son since the's boy's first cry cut through the delivery room. I still remember as they were sewing up my c-section telling him to go with his son and the doctor to the nursery. The sentence was not finished yet and he was out the door.

Remember the 'no diapers' clause in our agreement to have offspring? We were home three days before I was finally allowed to change our boy's diaper. TDH did all of the yucky, tar ones in the hospital and then also at home. He also did them with such patience and precision (a TDH trademark) that the dirty ones were like origami projects whose art unfortunately was not fully appreciated in the Diaper Genie.

And then the other night, another surprise. The Boy was in bed and I went to check on him and there was barely digested ham and peaches and Lord knows what else EV-E-R-Y-WHERE. This was not cute, baby spit-up. This was nasty.

TDH came up and helped me give The Boy a shower and then with a fresh shirt on both of them I could hear 'The Noise' from down the hall and waited for the exclamation of disgust and the plea for me to come get our child. I even half expected him to just put the poor boy on the floor.

But instead as I rushed around the corner I saw a man holding his boy close to his body, rubbing his back and telling him it was going to be ok.

I feel like I witnessed one of those 'soul' moments you hear about.


These moments of joy no longer shock me, but I do enjoy that this relationship between father and son has become such a pleasant surprise.

The Surprise

I always knew TDH's hesitance to have children was a confidence issue rather than anything else it could have been. Everyone knew he would be a good Daddy, but him. Still, I did not want to do anything without him being on board with the decision.

So we went to marriage counseling. My thoughts on that were if we did decide not to have children, I wanted to work through all of that now so that well into our marriage I was not bitter about what we never had.

He had various reasons for not wanting children and in different conversations about it he made clear that he had never changed a diaper and was NOT into bodily fluids and would not be able to help with any of that.

Fine.

Then came the surprises.

One of his fears was of getting hurt. So my first surprise came when after we lost Baby Snowpea instead of saying no more pain, he instead was convinced that he indeed wanted to be a father.

If we were going to have a baby then he wanted a girl. It was very quiet in our car coming home from the ultrasound that clearly showed 'boy'. So again what a pleasant surprise to have him enthralled with his son since the's boy's first cry cut through the delivery room. I still remember as they were sewing up my c-section telling him to go with his son and the doctor to the nursery. The sentence was not finished yet and he was out the door.

Remember the 'no diapers' clause in our agreement to have offspring? We were home three days before I was finally allowed to change our boy's diaper. TDH did all of the yucky, tar ones in the hospital and then also at home. He also did them with such patience and precision (a TDH trademark) that the dirty ones were like origami projects whose art unfortunately was not fully appreciated in the Diaper Genie.

And then the other night, another surprise. The Boy was in bed and I went to check on him and there was barely digested ham and peaches and Lord knows what else EV-E-R-Y-WHERE. This was not cute, baby spit-up. This was nasty.

TDH came up and helped me give The Boy a shower and then with a fresh shirt on both of them I could hear 'The Noise' from down the hall and waited for the exclamation of disgust and the plea for me to come get our child. I even half expected him to just put the poor boy on the floor.

But instead as I rushed around the corner I saw a man holding his boy close to his body, rubbing his back and telling him it was going to be ok.

I feel like I witnessed one of those 'soul' moments you hear about.


These moments of joy no longer shock me, but I do enjoy that this relationship between father and son has become such a pleasant surprise.

Wednesday, March 8, 2006

Impossible Question

How does a man go from sitting in marriage counseling because he is adamant about not wanting to have children to unflinchingly holding a one year old while that child gets sick all over him?

Some day I will flesh out the story, but for now the question is enough.

Tuesday, March 7, 2006

The Cross Meme

St. Casserole started it.

Do you wear a cross? Short answer: No. But then why do the meme? Until February 4, 2005 I wore a cross necklace. Why did I stop then? Because I did not want to risk losing it in the hospital when I gave birth to my son. And now I still do not wear it because I do not want him to pull it off.

Is there a particular time or place that you consider wearing a cross? I always wore it.

Where do you wear it? Around my neck, usually underneath my clothing.

What does the cross look like? Simple gold cross on a simple gold chain. It is probably about 3/4" in height.

Who gave the cross to you or did you choose it? My parents for a birthday when I was in high school after I specifically asked for one and explained to them the kind I wanted.

Is this your favorite cross, if so, why? It is my favorite. I look at it every day and weigh the risk factor of wearing it, but I know from experience with my niece and nephews that The Boy is right at prime necklace grabbing age.

What does wearing a cross mean to you? I wear a cross to remind me of Whose I am and because I'm grateful for my calling. (That was St. Casserole's answer and it is a good one.) I also now appreciate the longevity of it. I received the cross in high school and that is how long I have had this calling.

Wanna play? Tag yourself and tell us if, when and why you wear or don't wear a cross.

Sunday, March 5, 2006

Sunday Summary - Including the Revgalblogpal Meme

- The Meme
Tell us four things you have made a practice at some time or other in your life. Feel free to interpret the word "practice" as widely and deeply as you like. Did you stick with it? Was it too much? Did it change you?

Then tell us one thing you might like to try that requires practice, attention or commitment. Think of it as a request for supportive thoughts and prayers, if that helps.


I do not have four things. I have always made a point of not giving up anything for Lent. However, this year as I sat in the Ash Wednesday service I contemplated what I should do. I decided to join Leslee at Fresh Cut Flowers and cut down on my home computer time. This means no blogging or reading blogs or checking my work email from home.

So far I have slipped twice. Once in the name of checking to see if the wireless was working again and once because... well I do not have a good reason for that one. Now the next discipline will be not coming up with excuses to come over to the office so I can 'lent-gitametly' check my email and favorite blogs.

The Redneck Dog
My dog loves to chase squirrels. Yesterday he caught one. It was already dead. I will leave it at that.

The Sermon
God is good and the Spirit truly took hold of today's sermon and transformed it into something good. I am so undeserving. Next week is another busy one and so I must commit NOW to not be writing on Saturday night.

Target
Today is the grand opening of a Target right near us. It is embarrassing how giddy I am about this and me a 'non-shopper'. I have a list. I am willing to battle the crowds. I shall be at Target this afternoon.

Enjoy your Sunday!

Saturday, March 4, 2006

Procrastination Helpline

Once again I found myself late Saturday night with a sermon not yet complete. Once again Songbird found herself in the same predicament and rather than use the comments in one of her posts as a psuedo-instant messaging device - as we have done in the past - we began to email.

Random thoughts about this and that covered such varying topics as trips with pets, what was playing on our television sets and our truly great gifts in the art of procrastination. Finally one of us emailed the following:

Dog-friendly Vermont Bed & Breakfast - $150
Internet connection - $50 p/month
Shrek 2 dvd – 13.99


Having Antonio Banderas show up shirtless with a finished sermon in his hand… priceless.





Have a blessed Sunday everyone. Peace be with you...

Procrastination Helpline

Once again I found myself late Saturday night with a sermon not yet complete. Once again Songbird found herself in the same predicament and rather than use the comments in one of her posts as a psuedo-instant messaging device - as we have done in the past - we began to email.

Random thoughts about this and that covered such varying topics as trips with pets, what was playing on our television sets and our truly great gifts in the art of procrastination. Finally one of us emailed the following:

Dog-friendly Vermont Bed & Breakfast - $150
Internet connection - $50 p/month
Shrek 2 dvd – 13.99


Having Antonio Banderas show up shirtless with a finished sermon in his hand… priceless.





Have a blessed Sunday everyone. Peace be with you...

Thursday, March 2, 2006

Someone Named Joe

A Solo Pastor's Lament

My printer is down, the copier is broke;
The maintenance ‘to do’ list is enough to choke.
Heavy is my angst, great is my woe;
Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone named Joe?

I have a dream, a vision we call it;
Someone to fix, maintain or install it.
Someone to work here, Joe is the name;
And being here and fixin’ things is the game.


The alarm in the Sanctuary won’t stop beeping;
I must now go down to where the mice are creeping.
Ugh, there is ‘good’ news instead,
Not one is creeping but two are there dead.

I have a dream, a vision we call it;
Someone to fix, maintain or install it.
Someone to work here, Joe is the name;
And being here and fixin’ things is the game.


There is water leaking on the ground;
Try again your server cannot be found.
What? No water in the well?
Oh my good Lord, what is that weird smell?

I have a dream, a vision we call it;
Someone to fix, maintain or install it.
Someone to work here, Joe is the name;
And being here and fixin’ things is the game.


Big fundraiser here tomorrow;
No hot water is my sorrow.
At least I thought that was our downfall;
Until I was told there is no water at all.

I have a dream, a vision we call it;
Someone to fix, maintain or install it.
Someone to work here, Joe is the name;
And being here and fixin’ things is the game.


It is too much I admit I am beat;
Experts come in and I eagerly greet.
“Who is in charge here? We need to know”;
I said, “Hello, my name is Jo.”

I have a dream, a vision we call it;
Someone to fix, maintain or install it.
Someone to work here, Jo is her name;
And being here and fixin’ things is her game.






A pink tool belt...
I can't figure out if I am offended or not.

Someone Named Joe

A Solo Pastor's Lament

My printer is down, the copier is broke;
The maintenance ‘to do’ list is enough to choke.
Heavy is my angst, great is my woe;
Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone named Joe?

I have a dream, a vision we call it;
Someone to fix, maintain or install it.
Someone to work here, Joe is the name;
And being here and fixin’ things is the game.


The alarm in the Sanctuary won’t stop beeping;
I must now go down to where the mice are creeping.
Ugh, there is ‘good’ news instead,
Not one is creeping but two are there dead.

I have a dream, a vision we call it;
Someone to fix, maintain or install it.
Someone to work here, Joe is the name;
And being here and fixin’ things is the game.


There is water leaking on the ground;
Try again your server cannot be found.
What? No water in the well?
Oh my good Lord, what is that weird smell?

I have a dream, a vision we call it;
Someone to fix, maintain or install it.
Someone to work here, Joe is the name;
And being here and fixin’ things is the game.


Big fundraiser here tomorrow;
No hot water is my sorrow.
At least I thought that was our downfall;
Until I was told there is no water at all.

I have a dream, a vision we call it;
Someone to fix, maintain or install it.
Someone to work here, Joe is the name;
And being here and fixin’ things is the game.


It is too much I admit I am beat;
Experts come in and I eagerly greet.
“Who is in charge here? We need to know”;
I said, “Hello, my name is Jo.”

I have a dream, a vision we call it;
Someone to fix, maintain or install it.
Someone to work here, Jo is her name;
And being here and fixin’ things is her game.






A pink tool belt...
I can't figure out if I am offended or not.