Adventures of a Passionista

"Walking ain't gonna cure breast cancer"

NWIN Law Enforcement Cops for a Cure  will be heading to Chicago August 5 - 7  to walk - on purpose - 60 miles in 3 days.  All for an amazing cause...

                            The following is a re-write of an article written in August of 2007 ..

Having just completed walking 60 +/-miles in 3 Days,with hundreds of emotional moments and sound bites replaying in my mind, the one that resounds loudest was sitting on the concrete steps, adjacent to the Michigan Ave sidewalk, East of Randolph, at Millennium Park (Chicago) - less than 2 miles from FINISH LINE!!

Walking past him, at approximately #1200 out of #2400 walkers, "he" sat there shaking his head "no" (side to side) repeating this chant: "Walking ain't gonna cure breast cancer!"

Over and over...

"Walkin' ain't gonna cure breast cancer."

He continued shaking head no, no, no - looking at anyone who would look at him, square in the eye...

"Walking ain't gonna cure breast cancer."   Over and over he shook his head and repeated his chant...

Not being able to stand it any longer, and in my most intelligent of replies I retorted "well walking is doing a lot more than you are just sitting there, buddy."

Did I REALLY just say that?

Yep, now THAT was an intelligent, educational, kind and enlightening reply.

Wow.

The day before, Day 2, thousands were walking -a mammoth SEA of Pink:  BOOBs on sun visors, BOOBS of various NAMES written all over shirts: "Titty-titty Bang Bang", "Boob-i-licious", "Happy Hooters", "Boob Supporters", "Itty-BItty-Titty-Committee", etc.

There were PINK ribbons, PINK hats, PINK boas, male cops and firefighters in PINK shirts directing traffic and cheering the walkers on.  It was a virtual PINK FEST and a lady approaches the gal I was striding with at the time and asks: "what is all this pink for? what's the walk for??

Stopping her stride, and looking at her with daggers, my friend replied: "are you kidding me? (pregnant pause) for real? (another pregnant pause) It's for BREAST CANCER! BREAST CANCER!"

Curious lady vanished into a local storefront - most likely licking her wounds... ouch...

There's something about being a cancer survivor (like my bristling friend) or co-survivor or Breast Friend Forever of a breast cancer survivor- that makes one sensitive or passionate (both, actually) about this disease. Hmm, could be simply the "life and death!" factor...or the possibility that our children could grow up motherless that surely makes us a tad sensitive...

And we who are possessed with the spirit of advocacy, of awareness of the need to fight in a compassionate army - and battle in a war for healthy bodies - we PRESUME people "get" us.

get "pink"

get "it"

But the realities are this:
1) Pink is a color
2) Pink will not cure breast cancer
    --wearing pink on our head, pink bra over our clothes, pink ribbons pinned all over our bodies     while walking and passing out breast health information and sharing the importance of early     detection - does NOT cure breast cancer NOR does it mean just because it matters to me that     it matters to the rest of the world...

Which brings us to walking...
    "walking" in and of itself truly WILL NOT cure breast cancer. As much as it troubled me what     the smart-butt guy said - "walking ain't gonna cure breast cancer" - he was right... it will make         us feel stronger, create a healthier body ... but it won't CURE...

BUT: walking in the midst of a compassionate army - makes the army feel stronger, and less         alone in the battle

BUT: walking through sleepy or vibrant communities generates curiosity and curiosity often         breeds awareness and awareness results in more people understanding that EARLY         DETECTION SAVES LIVES, which also raises awareness of the need for regularly         performing BSE 's (Breast Self-Exams) , which create people who want to DO something         because either THEY have breast cancer, or someone they adore does - which converts a         previously- complacent-lalalala lady walking into the neighborhood drug store into someone         who wants to DO SOMETHING, to MAKE A DIFFERENCE in the world, which turns them into         active warriors to fight in this army, raise vital funds for investment in research that we         believe will one day SOON - not only find THE CURE, but will find the CAUSE of cancer -         breast cancer - all cancers.

Until no one has to ask what all the pink people are walking for...

Until no one has to say "walkin' ain't gonna cure breast cancer"... for the only reason that BREAST CANCER WILL NO LONGER EXIST IN THE PRESENT BUT WILL ONLY BE FOUND IN A HISTORY BOOK - until THAT TIME...

...we walk

... in pink.

(can't wait to get rid of all the stinking pink in my closet... can't wait until pink is just a COLOR)

Vacation? or Vacate?

Struck by this quote today:

“Sometimes a gal needs a vacation from who she really is.”

Cedar Rapids  (2011)   Joan Ostrowski-Fox (Anne Heche)

Initially, upon reading and dissecting it's intent, I pictured only wanton carrying-ons completely different than who I really am...  but upon further contemplation have seen far more truth to it than I'd realized. However, in exact OPPOSITION! I need to RETURN to who I "really am"!!!!

Who I've become  -  is NOT the "real me".

In assessing and reassessing, I would have to agree, that I truly do need a vacation  from the girl who has dwelled within this Earthsuit the past few years.  This girl is one who has visited stress and fear and overwhelm far more than she has ever been accustomed to.  These places I've visited - since 2007 have become all -too-familiar "friends"  (gee with friends like these who needs enemies!!!) and have left residual crud upon my normally-upbeat mind.

I need a PERMANENT vacation from this girl!

I need to return to the real girl who has been suppressed for far too long.  While during these challenging days/years I've had multiple snippets of abundant life! and joy! and peace! through people on the planet - amazing people who have enriched my life beyond measure:  family, friends - who through unexpected Kairos / God moments have hit me at the most random of times.  It was these moments where I've been reminded that I am held and loved - and am truly not alone. yes!

Getting away from this current girl is a process, for sure.  Awareness of the emotional holes I've dug for the past few years is the first step in climbing out of them!  WOW ,  am I aware!   and boy are there some well-dug holes! 

A few years back I would have been one of the first to tell someone in a similar frame of mind:  "joy is not related to your circumstances -  there can be Joy regardless- rise above!" 

Yep just hit 'em with a quick fix and run.   gross

What did Christ, Himself, do when met with grieving family of a brother who was his dear friend?  He grieved with them first - empathized WITH them - he FELT their pain ... then He proceeded to raise Lazarus from the dead!

Here I am, an older dog learning a new trick. (Yes! it IS possible!)

The significance of what I've learned is transforming for sure :  when pain or struggle is "shared" (spoken)  it's usually not shared with the intent of seeking to receive an answer of "how to FIX" the issue.  A "how to" (we think we have to supply) is akin to applying a band-aid over a festering wound  and is NOT empathy or healing.  It is simply the equivalent of  waiting 30 minutes for the doctor, who finally enters the room - leaving! then gives us 2 minutes to describe what brought us there to begin with, being interruped mid-stream,  being handed a "prescription" , dismissed, with doc walking out,  left alone with the dizzying thought: "what!?!?"  and exiting to pay the co-pay - with no more clarity or peace than we  felt when arriving .   (haven't we all been there???)

I have not needed to know HOW to overcome the dark cloud I've invited to hover... I needed to SEE the Hope and Light and Joy! in others in order to recognize what I've been missing and yearning for.

Wow...

For all those of you who have touched me - in so many ways: laughed with, loved on, encouraged, spent time writing notes of "wow, I'm so sorry and am praying for", or picked up the phone to text or call me out of nowhere to tell me you were thinking of me and loved me :  THANK YOU.

For those who have spoken to me with such tenderness and thoughtfulness and offered yourselves to be or do anything that would help when I don't even know what to be or do:  THANK YOU!

For those of you who have nudged me with "hang on!", "you can do this!" and "you matter to me": THANK YOU!

For all you who have looked EXACTLY like Christ to me - as tender hearted, loving, hand-holding, heart-touching Servants:   THANK YOU!

Through you I have "seen the Light" and am returning to the Real "me".

While I'm sure, in this "land of caregiving" that I dwell in, that there will be even more challenges in store  in the near future - I am confident, once again, that He has already surrounded me with exactly who I need in my life to shine hope and love right when it is most needed.

I declare now: I am commencing with VACATING the crud  which will, indeed, be a most welcome VACATION!  (and will better me for being HOPE to others!)

Cool.

 

 Copyright 2011 J. Allen G.

Journey?

"a. The act of traveling from one place to another; a trip. b. A distance to be traveled or the time required for a trip."

Journey.

To say this has been an "interesting journey" thus far would imply that I'm farther along whatever path it is that I'm supposed to be traveling on.

For whatever reason  that thought brings "The Wiz" to mind: "ease on down, ease on down the ro-oad! Come on and  ease on down, ease on down the ro-o-oad, Don't you carry nothin' that might be a load, come on ease on down ease on down the ro-oad!"

At 55, been lotsa road traveled on, some of it "easy" , but, frankly most of it not so easy.

While the "easy" times have given pauses that refresh - I truly believe that the difficult times (even the NW Indiana POT HOLES!!!)  have given me so much more appreciation for the value of the "Journey" in the first place.

Having the opportunity to:

        trust, lean-on, develop faith, overcome, dive-in, stick with it, seek wise counsel, pray, hope, long for, seek  (etc!)

makes the FINDING so much sweeter... develops life-muscles that help prepare me for NEXT AND, in turn, give me life experience that, hopefully, can be used to encourage another!

So  - be encouraged!

It's known that without the struggle  a  caterpillar goes through as it works hard to emerge from its crysalis as a butterfly    - the creature would not have the strength to survive!  It would shortly die. (if the crysalis were opened by an outside source)

The STRUGGLE provides the strength it needs to journey out and on...

Unlike the Wiz (ease on down) we can find our encouragement knowing we are not alone during every season in our lives - the good times, the rough times... there is One with us in our struggle - carrying our load with us and for us and helping us:

   Matthew 11:28-30           Come to me you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.         Take my yoke upon you and learn from me for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

James 1: 2-5    Consider it pure joy my brothers whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish the work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him.

 

All in all, yes, I am on a Journey. I am not where I began, and I am not "there yet"   - and so while traveling on -  the discoveries of self, the revelations of the character of Who this One who created me, who knows me, loves me, calls me His own ( who HE IS) - drives me ,moves me, PROPELS me forward,  gathering loved ones as I go - as we go.

So, I am grateful for the journey - lumps and bumps and all !

(still not a fan of the pot holes:)

 

Copyright 2011 J. Allen G.

Are we there yet?

Processing.

Waiting.

Wondering.

Busying my mind.

Processing.

Researching.

Waiting, waiting, is it Thursday (biopsy) yet?

The ultrasound showed some normal stuff going on... which brings more into focus, and limits what can/ may/ may not "be".

Waiting.

I'm sure there are adult ways to pass the time. But in my minds eye I see a little girl bouncing in the back seat  asking every mile or two (only 400 to go!) "are we there yeeeettttt?????"

Somehow, in the middle of waiting, and wondering and researching and , and, and there are snippets, glimpses of sweet, lovely PEACE. Unmistakable, unexpected, and most-welcomed PEACE.

 

Wow.

 

I love that.

 

In the middle of the waiting... He loves me enough to provide such lovely gifts...

In the New Testament Bible book of Philippians 4:  6 - 9 is a section of  Scripture that speaks to me... when I read it,  it's got MY NAME written there!!!! :)

The following is a conversation He is having with me... warning - it's a conversation through the Word and it's TO ME ! :) (- this is not quoting the scripture - this IS Judy paraphrased:)   

"JUDY LEE!!!!  DON'T WORRY! Don't worry about ANYTHING! Not even an upcoming biopsy - Don't worry, but pray!  ASK ME!! and  then, THANK ME, in advance. 

Now you know,  the only way you can THANK ME in advance, is if you  believe what you're asking Me, Jude!  If you believe ME.  

My daughter, if you do this,  THEN I will give you Peace that is above any human understanding - and that peace will guard your HEART and your MIND in me, Christ Jesus!  

But this is not all!

Once you pray, ask, and thank me - NEXT - to keep those stinking nagging thoughts of doubt from re-entering your brain ...

THINK ON THE GOOD STUFF... on purpose!  Make yourself think on  things that are praiseworthy, and true,and lovely and of GOOD REPORT... 

think on all the awesome things you've learned from me and have seen me do these past 27 years we've walked together -

and I - the God of everything - and most-certainly the God of Peace  -

I WILL BE WITH YOU".

 

Okay.

Okay.

I'm "in", Lord...

I may not "be there yet" - but until I am "there" I am  in fantastic "company"  ...  and that alone, makes the

wait

so

worth

it.

 

 

Copyright 2011 J. Allen G.

Courage

It can create a little concern when you call to establish a new doctor / patient relationship and the nurse you speak with , upon hearing the issues/symptoms, asks you to hold, then returns to the phone and says, "doctor would like to see you tomorrow"...

And it can cause a little concern when new doc does see you   and says, "sweetie, we need to get you in for a biopsy, I'd like to do it here in the office, and get it done quickly, also here's a card, I'd like you to see this doctor regardless - with your  history we need to be certain how we proceed  what your body will tolerate and not create further issues" - .

And it can also cause a little more concern when the Oncologist's office calls the next day, and states "we've gathered your files from the past ten years and would also like you to have the results of the upcoming tests and the biopsy sent to us asap".

So , in 1 weeks' time 2 upcoming tests, 1 biopsy ... and here we go.

Did she SAY the word "cancer" ? 

No.

Do the unspoken yet spoken things lead to that word? 

Yes.

Am I sitting here "knowing in my gut" (so to speak) that I do?

Heck no.

Am I wondering? 

Yes.

Planning?

Yes.

Praying?

Yes.

Nagged by doubt or fear catching me off guard?

Yes.

Holding on to fear?

NO!

The "orderly, logical side of me" is visualizing this life in this household and boys, grandson, parents with Alzheimer's, business to put to rest, bills to pay, bookkeeping to organize so "if' the "worst" happens my family won't be left in a lurch, and what do I want to do? and I'm darn well  GOING to go to a beach somewhere before and...

The EMOTIONAL side of me would cry out "NO", not now!...

Such things would torment a person's mind - for sure - if allowed to dwell there.

In my researching and rampant reading, I ran across something today that struck a chord - a nerve - in me and is absolutely simply, beautifully  profound - and stopped me in my tracks :                                                                                    

                                "Have the courage to live. Anyone can die."

                                                                                                                                -Robert Cody

Got it. 

A dear friend has thumped me in the noggin with truth recently - and just as powerfully - this THUMPED my NOGGIN, for sure!

Also, one of my favorite Scriptures , by far, is Psalm 13.

In reading this Psalm I see so much of my life - my dramatic lows, and exhuberant highs -all in 6 little verses  - just 6 little verses - and within those 6 verses  I feel a kindred spirit with David - the writer...

For the director of music. A psalm of David.   (a man after God's own heart! yes!) 

(Notice the 1st 4 is pure LAMENTING - crying out - why???? HELP ME!)

 ¹ How long, LORD? Will you forget me forever?
   How long will you hide your face from me?

² How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
   and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
   How long will my enemy triumph over me?

 ³ Look on me and answer, LORD my God.
   Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,

⁴ and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
   and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

 

(Hold ON! This is where it get's gooood!)

 ⁵ But               ("BUT"! midstream he CHOSE to CHANGE HIS THINKING!)

   I trust in your unfailing love;
   my heart rejoices in your salvation.
 

⁶ I will sing the LORD’s praise,
   for he has been good to me"

 

For me, this crying out and "willful choosing to take control of fearful, stinking thinking" is what gives me hope to know my momentary fear, or battle is not unknown, nor unexpected by God.

He knows me - my inmost thoughts and deepest, darkest hopes and longings... and He loves me. He chose me (you, us all!) and He loves me. He wants me.. He wants ME to have relationship - open and honest with Him.  I can approach Him with the real me - warts and all , He will always listen. There is nothing, absolutely NOTHING that is too overwhelming, too deep, too close, to anything that He cannot handle.

He can certainly handle a few doctors' appointments.

He can certainly handle my dreams and longings... and He is with me.

Knowing that gives me permission to be me, who He loves, and me is a girl who loves this life she's been gifted with.

So, dag nabbit, I'm gonna seek some Supernatural COURAGE get me some living done. :)

 

(thank you, Lord, for clarity!)

 

Here's to Living! Yes!

 

Copyright 2011 J. Allen G.

 

Keeping the flame... in the breast cancer fight...

When Abby-Jill moved out of her "earth suit" into her HEAVENLY one and is now TRULY "dancing with the stars" , she left behind a world that was made far better by her contributions to it.

I, for one, who has been proud (first mistake...)of being a "passionate person" in this beautiful "life dance", soon realized that my "passion" paled, by comparison to Abby-Jill's.

My team mate, Scott C., was fund raising and walking in her honor.   I met her in person, during the August 2007 Breast Cancer 3Day.   That day my life was permanently and INSTANTLY marked by her flame which burned deeply into my heart and mind. Passion? I had truly found what "passion" looked like... and it surely didn't look like me.

Debbie (Abby-Jill's sister) TIARA-wearing Abby-Jill (of course!) and their momma - day 3 - 2 miles from finish line!

How can someone who ,1.5 weeks prior, had fluid drained from her lungs, and who - just 5 days earlier had had chemotherapy - walk, laugh, walk, hug, embrace, laugh,  love, walk, giggle, jiggle, dance, dance, dance to the music that was in HER head.

So here's the thing: since having been "torched" (yes "torched" , "sparked by flame") by Abby-Jill, I've, unwittingly, become a Breast Cancer fighter-no-that's-not-a-strong-enough-word...WARRIOR.

Now look: what I didn't see were the tears. the hair loss.  the swelling. the pain, the agony, the horror that this disease caused as it created havoc in her body and consumed her.  Her loved ones did.

I grieve for her loved ones. I cannot begin to imagine - to feel their enormous loss...

But I can feel for them, and I can create a stir to cause awareness and, hopefully, generate just a little bit of concern and compassion from an ambivalent world...

And so,  I wear pink.  It's not because I like pink- pink - is a girly, good-girl, prissy-stinking color. .  More tom-boy than prissy, I'm more fond of chocolate and green and all things "earthy" - ...

Sadly, pink, in our current CULTURE often represents MARKETING MANIA at the expense of the pain, the sorrow, the struggle, the fight for life - that breast cancer causes.

Breast cancer is a killer.

Abby-Jill died at 43.

We were robbed.

Aunt Mildred Kirby (nee McCallister) died at 48.

We were robbed.

Breast cancer is a thief: stealing health and finances and time with loved ones.

There is nothing "pink" about it.

Pink won't bring 'em back.

May we not lose sight of what the battle really is.
May we continue to educate ourselves and refuse to "play in Pink".
Rather, may we use this nasty color to cause a stir, and in doing so, enrage a world that so complacently accepts wigs and drawn-on eyebrows as a way of making a cancer-ridden-patient "feel better"...

May we ask the questions... the difficult questions:

Early detection saves lives?
Early detection of something that is rampant - WHY IS IT RAMPANT?  WHY?
What factors cause cancer to begin with?
What chemicals in our environment, food, water contribute?

Find the contributing factors, then we don't need to "detect" anything...

Sigh.

And as nauseating and distasteful as it is, if wearing stinking PINK will create a stir that causes someone to ask me what's up  - I am willing to wear stinking PINK...

And so I walk - and always, always walking in memory of those who have lost their fight with this ugly disease , in honor of those who battle and in support of those whose lives are personally affected by it.

The flame of life that Abby-Jill had, that was extinguished in her death caused by breast cancer - carries on in those of us who refuse to sit by and allow breast cancer to take all of our loved ones...

without a fight.

 

Copyright 2011 J. Allen G.

 

Sowing

Sowing

While it’s not that I fear death                                                                                                                                        

Mine is the understanding that there is forever- more…                                                                                                      

    ...eternity.

No, it's not that I'm  afraid of dying –                                                                                                                   

of leaving this Earth-suit, of shedding off mortality.                                                                                                                                                         

It’s that I am just now settling into my skin.

I am just now beginning to see with eyes older,                                                                                             

yet with clearer vision,

those around me

Who, themselves, are navigating this lovely planet with their own vision,                                               their own task,

their own mark to make.

How I long to make mine.     

A mark.

To touch another.                                                                                                                                                                 

to make a difference                                                                                                                                                             

In my world.                                                                                                                                                                              

In this world.                                                                                                                                                                                            

In His world.

To be known as one who loved well                                                                                                                               

To be remembered as one who was willing to be what another would or could not –                              

in the name of Love.

To bring a smile                                                                                                                                                                         

A warmth                                                                                                                                                                                     

A most-welcome touch to a soul that hungers to hear hope.

To share the One who has,                                                                                                                                      Himself,                                                                                                                                                                                  

Fully, completely, eternally - given that hope.

Oh I am not afraid of dying…                                                                                                                                            

It’s just…                                                                                                                                                                                 

Now that I am beginning to fully understand the depth and height of Such Love..                                         

I do so hunger to do more ,                                                                                                                                      

wasting less, far less time                                                                                                                                                      

to sow Such Love...

 

Copyright 2011 J. Allen G.

WEEEEEEEE! Better 'n a Roller Coaster!!!

One of my new fav Blogs to read is Crystal,  of PINK HAIRED GIRL . Her blog today was the one entitled "A Different Kind of MIssion Trip"  which got me thinking of my own experiences with my FAITH and my commitment to the 09 Chicago Breast Cancer 3Day .

Below is the reply I gave to Crystal - copied & pasted in true "on vacation" manner! :

...as a 3Dayer heading to 3 years, I can tell you from experience, that calling this “a different kind of missions trip” is EXACTLY what you will experience. Diverse cultures, diverse life experiences, impacting individuals by living examples, by encouragement and providing vital information that can save lives. We (Warriors in Pink - Rachel’s Hope) use the fundraising need as our motivation for community activism, breast cancer education and awareness - then the funds come! Last year, during a fundraising at WallyWorld, a gal that had seen our posters came up to us, introduced herself and said she was on her way to get her hair cut off - before it fell out. Turns out she had been diagnosed with Sarcoma and less than 1percent survival rate - cutting off her hair was her being able to CONTROL something in her life - we were there cheering her on, when she returned, and celebrated by spray painting her remaining “mohawk” PINK! The team provide meals for her family during, after horrible chemo - we invited her to be our “guest of honor” during a 4th of July Parade where we wore PINK and Red,White & Blue and marched for “FREEDOM from BREAST CANCER” in the parade. She still struggles but is not alone. We’ve grown, we’ve seen His had guide us and use us in remarkable ways… Then the 3Day event itself - that is where we felt “the world as it SHOULD be”… thousands of people - drawn together by LOVE for LOVE - wow… speechless and forever drawing us back for MORE.

We also learned, even in training, - every step we took, was an opportunity to make a difference: together in the lives of the team, and in the community. There were many, many training days we PINKED it out, carried Komen breast fact flyers (all printable online) and trained 10 - 15- 18 miles - walking to neighboring communities and back and talking with all wonderful kinds of people along the way. We’ve met a 16 year old who thought she had breast cancer - actually had “questionable cells” - and we loved/hugged encouraged her - offering support and prayers.

Wow. The stories are endless - and are exactly why we are drawn, compelled to work in this “mission field”. This is my call - and I’m so fulfilled having answered it!"

Nothing Earth shattering in my reply, just real - real commitment, real emotion, real life-changing-events representing COUNTLESS stories of COUNTLESS people who have become forever imprinted into my memory-banks and my heart...

Good intentions led me to strive to RAISE FUNDS the 1st year... focus on raising those precious dollars.  Okay so my heart / my motives were pure - but I missed out on so much = COMMUNITY!  I missed out on SERVING, and becoming involved with others lives and becoming so enriched!

This past year - year 2 - I dedicated myself to SERVING the community - and in doing so - DUH - the FUNDS CAME without the struggle! Sure, there were some challenging moments of "HELP!" along the way - but it was so awesome to see God's handiwork - our willingness to be and do and go where He sent + His miracle-working-love-grace-mercy-today =  $$'s miracles and LIVES CHANGED - mine mostly! :)

So this year my motto:  “Serve the people - the $$ will come”  is , again, exactly what I seek to do. I am so excited about where He'll lead me this year...whom He'll bring me in contact with and how He'll direct my path... woo hoo!  This is a great ride!  Unlike roller coasters - this one is FAR LONGER LASTING! And, in serving, I KNOW I am part of something that is making a difference - money spent for research for a Cure for Cancer... and lives encouraged in some way by connecting with each other... ah... that is FUN and ETERNAL...

Kinda sad that it took a year, but He was patient, until I “got it”! haha!

Ah… grace.

Best!

Christmas Present(s)

There is no turning back: a TECHNOID CREATED remains a TECHNOID.

When did my little boys make the transition from cowboy hats and bandanas to world-wide-Halo-game-playing-gadget-attached-at-the-palm-stand-in-line-from-4PM-THANKSGIVING DAY-all the-way-to-6:30AM-BLACK-FRIDAY-to-spend-a-puny-50.00-TECHNOIDS????

Did I do this?

Am I responsible for submitting to every whim and fantasy of two once-young boys, now young man and man???? hmmmm????

Did I DO THIS???

I take no responsibility.

I did purchase a game console this.
and that.
and that.
and that.
And version 1 of this.
and version 2 of that.
and, and, and...
(no links people - you know what they were/ are!!! you name it!)

But I held back.  OH I FOUGHT THE GOOD FIGHT.  I said "no" so many times I forgot how to formulate the word "yes" off rusty "yes lips"...

And I think there comes a time in every parent's parenting-life, when the phrase "but everybody's got one" - really, really means "everybody's got one".

Cell phone.
I resisted.  Oh, I resisted.
Oh, wow, did I ever, ever resist...

... then there came a day when I could not find, reach, talk with my young teenage son, and boy did I need to find, reach, talk with my young teenage son... and said son ordered his first track (non  contract) phone THAT EVENING.

The fact that (most) EVERYBODY did have one - really didn't come into play then, what came into play was that it became important to ME for him to have one.

But I don't think HE GOT THE MEMO that it was important to ME.  I'm almost certain, that someplace in his boy/man mind he thinks he WON, for men, boy/men often battle, do they not? fight! challenge!  conflict!  stuff that video games are made of!

So if "he" thinks he "won" - so be it, deep down I KNOW I WON...

...but then the NEXT phone is bigger...
..."mom, I really want a 'contract phone' - cheaper minutes, better yada, yada, yada..."
...for the record - I DID NOT 'win'...

Looking back 29 Christmases for one son, and 16 Christmases for the other... there are so-many-LIGHT-BULB-defining-moments-in-time that are forever etched in "me old" memory banks. Ah-HA! discovery moments (usually reserved for students) that taught me oh-so-many-valuable lessons about the giving of gifts and the receiving of gifts...

1) Regardless what the list says,from TODDLER to YOUNG CHILD:  there are never enough presents/boxes/THINGS to open!
   It's really about the OPENING.  Therefore I learned from my OLDEST SON, that if I wrapped BOXES of all shapes and sizes - whether with something in them or not (often w/ existing books/toys) - that said baby bro would be THRILLED.  Both boys loved, loved, loved reading books... both boys had their favorites, though, and would wear them out... one Christmas I wrapped the youngest one's personalized story book (gift from friend with his own name printed in various storylines - way cool) in bright Santa paper, and Rudolph paper the next.  Following year it was toys, then snowflakes!  Always the SAME book, just wrapped differently.  One year it was in a box that was in a box that was in a box...sad to say, it was a short-lived tradition, "whiskers" and " baby books" - hmm, something ain't right about that.

2) Once you go gadget, ain't no going back.  Seriously.  It is forbidden.  Cannot go "electronic Battleship" one year, and generic move em w/ no sound Battleship the next. Just can't be.

3) Children learn that the term "Family Present" - means "most expensive thing that we wouldn't normally get unless the parents think it will result in some quality FAMILY TOGETHER TIME" then kiddies will risk all kinds of personal space and time to get said EXPENSIVE item...and parents try, try, try to understand said expensive "family present" but there's dinner to cook, and roofs to shingle and kiddies end up with the expensive Family present...

4)All this said, ONE OF THE greatest, greatest, greatest "presents" of all (no vote needed, you'll know it's right when you read it! Ha!)  ... one of the GREATEST PRESENTS of ALL is.....

... BEING PRESENT...

Breathing in the very conversations of those whom I love most  - honoring them by LISTENING to them - and in doing so, enriching my life - indeed GIFTING MY LIFE by them AND gifting THEIR lives by showing them how important they are to me and to the planet. My paying attention - being PRESENT - is a far greater gift than any technical gadget, or up-to-date-phone-ery could ever be...

Breathing in deeply aware that each breath is a gift and thanking the One, who by example, has paved the way for me to BE PRESENT - as HE is PRESENT.                                                   

Emmanuel : GOD WITH US.

God with us.

(Present!)

neglected.

My little bloggy has been neglected.
My adult children have been neglected.
My miraculous, amazing, brilliant, beautiful grandson (yes BEAUTIFUL!) has been neglected.
My house repair progress has been neglected.
My hair has been neglected.
My side of the bed has been neglected.
My marriage has been neglected.
My health has been neglected.
Ultimately, my soul - yes, sadly, even the health of my SOUL, has been neglected- for too, too long...
 
I suppose my flurried, hurried, exhausted state is a product of all whirling around me: concern for others,  self-imposed commitments, family-imposed commitments (necessities), financially-imposed
commitments... Maybe more accurately, I should say my current state-of-being is directly related to my self-imposed commitments- because, ultimately I have no one to blame but myself for over-committing, when I am already "committed".  (or should be.  that would be a joke. hmm not a very funny joke!)

Lonely?
Sometimes, often actually.
Do I reach out? 
Heck no, who has time to commit to an "outside relationship"?!? After all, I don't even take time to see the few people who love me, why would I waste time with those who don't?  or try to develop friendships when my time is so limited & so precious?

Tired?
self-imposed, burning the candle from the middle (the ends were gone long ago...) only can point the fingers one way - me.

What do I do to correct?
Heck, I dunno that takes energy.

Actually I DO know, just don't know if I want to take the effort to focus on me.

Okay, so the reality is this:  If serving others is important to me (it is)  and I desire to continue serving others (I do) then I must make certain be achieve some form of "rest" in order to better serve.

Stink.

My nasty self and I had better take time to RE:

RE-  
    fuel
    fresh
    energize

By RE-establishing my relationship with my Lord who longs to "refuel,refresh and re-energize" me.

Actually, He's been longing for me to drop the load - for a long time.

Okay, Lord.  I get it.
Thick-headed.
Stubborn.
But too tired to do it on my own much longer.
Any longer...

Now,
I come back
to
You
cuz your daughter
has dried up
and needs
You
to make
it
one
more
day...

And so, with Grace and Mercy that You, alone, offer, (as a gift - I surely don't deserve it!) I receive your Love... and I begin, again, with You in the Lead. (where You belong)

Help me, God, to honor You, by honoring MY BODY, MY MIND, MY SOUL...
after all, You created me in Your image - I'm just not healthy enough to reflect You like you desire me to...

Help me be more like You.
Help me look like You do.
Help me see what You see when You're looking at me
Help me see me like You do...
So I can see what You see when You're looking THROUGH me,
So I can do what You want me to do...

(slow learner, Lord, but thanks so much for the REFRESHer course!) 

Love, love, love.

Your daughter.... me.

 

 

Living in Alzheimer's land while obsessing in 3-Day land

There is a direct correlation between the thief "memory loss" in my dear family and the amount of time I spend buried into breast  cancer awareness, fund raising, team building , community involvement and training for the Chicago Breast Cancer 3-day in August.

I don't know the term for taking the stress/ emotional upheaval I feel for every moment THEY stress over not remembering what day it is or how to write a check - and pouring it (my stress) into action by totally DIVING into another world.

Obsessing, really.  Why don't I OBSESS about memory loss?  Or aging? 

Could be living it one more moment than is necessary is more overwhelming than imaginable.
Could be my puny human mind cannot take one more moment of it than necessary (I think that was redundant)
(see?)

You see, that's it.

"Alzheimer's Land" is a land of repetition.
I said, "Alzheimer's Land" is a land of repetition.
...repetition.
over and over again, which is, of itself, repetition.
alot.
see, there again, is repetition.

Diving into community activism re: breast cancer awareness and fund raising -  is new! exciting! invigorating! Passionate! Hope for the future! Faith for the cure!

Maybe I just need help...
Maybe I just need help...

hmmm... definitely.

16.5 weeks till 3-Day and I'm s'posed to walk? like now?

I don't know what part of the word "training" I forgot about this season, but it dawned on me "gee I'm hosting a training walk Saturday, I should walk some before I get there". 

It's not that I"m not interested in walking . Last year I learned that walking gave me such a sense of freedom.  Nice 3.5 mph pace - yet I felt like my body became a "flying machine" - the freedom of being able to carry myself anywhere I set my eyes to.

Amazing.  Truly a gift from God, these machines He made... this machine has lost 13 lb in approx 5 days - from sick, so sick and no fluids or food.

I'm a physical mess.

Oh, and today was my 52nd birthday.

My, beautiful daughter-in-love made AWESOME healthy soup that I devoured and felt a semblance of beginnings of life in the form of baby-bursts of energy ...   the brief visit from son,dilove,grandbabylove was such a gift -in itself - let alone that they spent too much money on XBox American Idol game! we'll have fun - family singing, fun.

And my oh-too-patient husband surprised me with 8gig mp3 player.  I'm shocked. More than that I'm incredibly touched at how concerned he was over my ill health, especially these last 2 or 3 days...

October 01 I was given 6 - 8 hours -HOURS to live - I was dying from double Pulmonary Embolism.  Both lungs.  Suffocating and causing such strain on my heart.  9 days in ICU & 10 days in cardiac care -released to begin a new life - one where I appreciated each breath...

Wow. Each breath is a gift.  Looking back, I've overcome so much... even what has faded can so easily come back into focus with a reminder and it feels so fresh, once again.  And so painful.  Those days in ICU when it was touch and go, my husband looked into the face of a wife who statistically should not be there  (most double PE patients die).   Weak and frail.

My husband looked at me through those eyes yesterday.  I could read it there.  Bless his precious heart.  I take him so for granted.  And this life.  And each breath.  And  each step.

Walking in the 3-Day last year was a miracle for me, on so many levels.  Alive to walk. Breathing.  These 2 weeks of sick may have weakened me, and sidetracked my training, but the reality is - I will train, when I am stronger.  I will, again, be so grateful that this machine is still humming.  We walk in the 3-Day for HEALTHY BODIES - health from breast cancer, yes, but  - ultimately for HEALTH.

I won't feel guilty and push myself stupid to walk when I'm not fueled. or hydrated. or when I'm so sick.  Not even for an "official training walk".  Those who show  will get a map of the square.  My buds/teammates will carry on when I reach my limit.  It is what it is.

And when I'm stronger... I'll walk...because I can.

Back to basics - 3-Day style...

From "whiner" to "warrior" - I'm back!

Amazing what feeling "under the weather" does to one's view point - ashamed to admit that I wanted to "quit" ... my previous post was filled with "have had it's"...

While it's true I'm not thrilled about working with rude, disrespectful people, (previous post) I am fully devoted to this task - fighting this battle for the Cure for breast cancer - through awareness, community action / involvement and fund raising!

I will not be discouraged - I choose to continue - and I will proceed with fire and determination that will not be daunted by people who want me to walk , fundraise FOR them. Nope, we each must burn, or we will extinguish..

So, my friends... she speaketh, once again, of things pink and purposeful...

again...

until the task is done...

...the cure.

period.

Help! What do I do now?

I overdo.

Overwhelmed with life, I've been seeking refuge in passionately pursing awareness and funds for breast cancer research. Focused and driven and plowing ahead in fund raising event planning fury, I found myself grinding to a halt this week.

Sick, 102 fever, deep chest cough, no energy.
Oh, but that was nothing compared to the numerous late night, always inconvenient, phone calls I received throughout the week.

"I'm disabled, I had a truck run over my head. I've got pins in my ankles.  I was assigned to your team.  I can walk 10 miles.  I think.  My *&^%^ doctor won't give me a donation, I'm going to get pink tanks and socks and I've raised $10,200. and I dont want to walk alone. I could have joined a closer team but I would feel out of place (different culture) with "them"."

"So you have pins in your ankles now? How can you walk?"

"Oh, no, not now. I can't walk early morning because I need to take my anxiety medicine and it takes an hour to work, and do they have electric because I need a nebulizer, and I've still got walking pneumonia - I do smoke,too, can't quit".

Okay - all in about 2 breaths and I'm still stunned to this moment days later.

My heart is breaking.  What part of this person is "the least of these" that Christ talks about ("as you do to the least of these you do to Me")?  When do I run, not walk, to the nearest exit and pretend I'm not here when she calls again and again and always at really weird socially inappropriate times (10:45pm?).  My co-team captain told her (yes, she is also getting relentless calls) her mother-in-law's funeral was Saturday.  It was met with "I didn't call to get your sad news. I have some questions".

All the answers are available to her online or by phone call. Repeatedly we have told her to make the phone call to the right people.

I want to cry.
Scream.
Frustrated.
I'm no longer having fun.
I want to quit.
I won't.
But I want to flee.
When is "no" okay?
No answers here, just realizing the team is only as strong as it's weakest link.  Now, if that link appears to be "in need" - man, o, man this awesome team will (and is) step up to help.

However, when someone comes in pushy, pushy, grating, could care less about us, I want to nip it in the bud.

Just trying to figure out my next move, my responsibility ...

All I know is that "help!!" is the only word in my head right now...

Keeping the flame... in the breast cancer fight...

When Abby-Jill moved out of her "earth suit" into her HEAVENLY one and is now TRULY "dancing with the stars" , she left behind a world that was made far better by her contributions to it.

I, for one, who has been proud (first mistake...)of being a "passionate person" in this beautiful "life dance", soon realized that my "passion" paled, by comparison to Abby-Jill's.

My team mate, Scott C., was fund raising and walking in her honor.   I met her in person, during  the August 07, Breast Cancer 3-Day .  That day my life was permanently and INSTANTLY marked by her flame which burned deeply into my heart and mind. Passion? I had truly found what "passion" looked like... and it surely didn't look like me.

Debbie (Abby-Jill's sister) TIARA-wearing Abby-Jill (of course!) and their momma - day 3 - 2 miles from finish line!

How can someone who ,1.5 weeks prior, had fluid drained from her lungs, and who - just 5 days earlier had had chemotherapy - walk, laugh, walk, hug, embrace, laugh,  love, walk, giggle, jiggle, dance, dance, dance to the music that was in HER head.

So here's the thing: since having been "torched" (yes "torched" , "sparked by flame") by Abby-Jill, I've, unwittingly, become a Breast Cancer fighter-no-that's-not-a-strong-enough-word...WARRIOR.

Now look: what I didn't see were the tears. the hair loss.  the swelling. the pain, the agony, the horror that this disease caused as it created havoc in her body and consumed her.  Her loved ones did.

I grieve for her loved ones. I cannot begin to imagine - to feel their enormous loss...

But I can feel for them, and I can create a stir to cause awareness and, hopefully, generate just a little bit of concern and compassion from an ambivalent world...

And so,  I wear pink.  It's not because I like pink- pink - is a girly, good-girl, prissy-stinking color. .  More tom-boy than prissy, I'm more fond of chocolate and green and all things "earthy" - ...

Sadly, pink, in our current CULTURE often represents MARKETING MANIA at the expense of the pain, the sorrow, the struggle, the fight for life - that breast cancer causes.

Breast cancer is a killer.

Abby-Jill died at 43.

We were robbed.

Aunt Mildred Kirby (nee McCallister) died at 48.

We were robbed.

Breast cancer is a thief: stealing health and finances and time with loved ones.

There is nothing "pink" about it.

Pink won't bring 'em back.

May we not lose sight of what the battle really is.
May we continue to educate ourselves and refuse to "play in Pink".
Rather, may we use this nasty color to cause a stir, and in doing so, enrage a world that so complacently accepts wigs and drawn-on eyebrows as a way of making a cancer-ridden-patient "feel better"...

May we ask the questions... the difficult questions:

Early detection saves lives?
Early detection of something that is rampant - WHY IS IT RAMPANT?  WHY?
What factors cause cancer to begin with?
What chemicals in our environment, food, water contribute?

Find the contributing factors, then we don't need to "detect" anything...

Sigh.

And as nauseating and distasteful as it is, if wearing stinking PINK will create a stir that causes someone to ask me what's up  - I am willing to wear stinking PINK...

And so I walk - and always, always walking in memory of those who have lost their fight with this ugly disease , in honor of those who battle and in support of those whose lives are personally affected by it.

The flame of life that Abby-Jill had, that was extinguished in her death caused by breast cancer - carries on in those of us who refuse to sit by and allow breast cancer to take all of our loved ones...

without a fight.

Love, love, love. Love is all you need!

I've been a Christ follower for 26 years, now.

I'm finally getting that He longs for me (us) to love, love, love.  And I'm also finally getting that love, love, love comes in many different "faces".

Currently deeply embedded in event planning for raising awareness and, ultimately, funds for the Chicago Breast Cancer 3-Day , I find myself surrounded by and partnering with a world/community  who long(s) to love and serve and more closely resemble Him by heart and in deed and by ACCIDENT, than I do, by "design".

Fund raiser extraordainare,  Lorry, has built a hospital wing and has raised tens of thousands of dollars for premature births.  Lorry saw her workplace was pitching "old food" and promptly called the local "meals on wheels" to pick up the left overs on a daily basis.   She volunteers time, effort & money to breast cancer (in support of and in honor of family members), while actively working in support of Relay for Life.  Energetic.  Vibrant.  Serving community.

Wow, how beautifully she resembles Him.

Though, I don't think she realizes it's "Him" she looks like.  Or even who "He" is. (yet)

And there are others.  So many other "Lorry's" who serve the world, tirelessly, because the world needs help, more, loved, the world needs love, love, love.

So many of my years spent within the walls - the building OF the "church".  So many years serving the "body of the church".  Loving them, growing them.  Maybe those years have better prepared me for what my community - the world OUTSIDE of the building- really needs.  Maybe those years were spent serving those who call Him by name, so that I would deeply realize how desperately I needed to serve, love DO something OUTSIDE of the building.  I'm getting that I AM the "church" and where I go , she goes (the bride, the church).  HE goes.  Who I touch - HE touches.

Lorry has inspired me.  Lorry has touched me. 

Thank so much Lord, for showing me Yourself through this one who doesn't even realize how closely she "resembles" You.

Oh God, may I continue to seek and find You in such amazing, beautiful, unexpected places...

Abby-Jill: face of a servant, eyes of God.

When driven by love, the world becomes smaller.  As hearts grow bigger, eyes see no stranger. 

And so is the world Abby-Jill lived in: her eyes saw potential, her mouth spoke hope, her heart beat with unconditional love.  How well she resembled the One she so loved, whom she served, Lord Jesus.

There is a story in this picture.  Abby-Jill, hands placed on the pot, ready to serve the hungry - praying for the food and those ready to receive it. Those who shared moments like these  with her---my heart breaks for you.

This lovely beauty pouring herself into this little child. 
Those of you who shared moments like this with her... my heart mourns for you.

 

Abby-Jill (hand up in VICTORY!) (and her team: Abby's Hope, and my team mate and I) as she completed 18+ miles on day 3 of 07 Chicago Breast Cancer 3-Day.  Walking victoriously into closing - her goal was completing the event and participating in Survivor Circle.  Walking, encouraging, loving her fellow participants (walkers & crew alike) we walked in the presence of Someone that seemed more like Christ and less like Abby-Jill .  What little I knew of her she would poo-poo that idea - but walking with her I knew Christ, Himself, was empowering her.  We all knew He was giving her strength and hope and purpose.  We knew He whom she so faithfully reflected and served - truly revealed Himself time and time again as we observed her touching His children during this 3-Day event. What little I know of Abby-Jill - it was just her "doing her thing".

I've learned how important Hope is in affecting attitude in adversity- through Abby-Jill. She taught me so much in such little time...

I'm most certain, that those who surrounded her, through her short 43 years, became "the most important people" in her heart. Every family member, every friend, every "stranger" she served - she loved, she served, she celebrated.

"Lord, as you don't have to allow us to enjoy the vibrant colors of Fall leaves before trees go dormant... and You don't have to allow Spring to delight our senses with new-oh-so-fragrant-fragile-shoots-of-life as we transition into the warmth of Summer... so You don't have to place people in our lives that so well reflect Your very nature, Your loving heart... yet You do and You have. Thank You for your Son, Jesus, and His unbelievable "completed task" - for me, for us. I am most grateful. That is so much more than enough. Yet You chose to gift me - to gift us - with loved ones.  Thank You.  Thank You for your handmaiden, Abby-Jill,  and the privilege of knowing You more - through her.  Thank you.  

Now, Abby-Jill, out of her "Earth suit" and in her heavenly one, it's likely she's cracking you up with her goofiness, dancing and smiling and causing a Holy-Party! and is organizing something up There, I'm almost certain. Until we see You "clearly", Lord, may we be found faithful, and may we continue Your legacy Lord, as Abby-Jill so demonstrated to Your world.

So, Lord, I dedicate this song to You, in honor of You and Your impact in my life and in honor of Abby-Jill and her "team":

"I will never be the same again.  I will never return, I've closed the door.  I will walk the Path , I will run the race and I will never be the same again.  Fall like Fire, soak like Rain, flow like mighty waters, again and again.  Sweep away the darkness, burn away the chaff, and let the flame burn, to glorify Your name! I will never be the same again.  I will never return, I've closed the door.  I will walk the Path , I will run the race and I will never be the same again. No, I will never be the same, again..."

In Memory of Abby-Jill — We Will Miss You- Part 2

(excerpt from post-3-day walk -  8/20/07)

"When people are passionate about a "cause" and the passion is fueled by LOVE, there are no strangers! I met co-laborers who quickly became my "family" and "close friends" who loved largely and expressed joy so easily. The world as it should be - all sitting in the late afternoon sun, waiting to take a shower and hang out in their pj's, chatting as if we were buds from high school.

...

I found myself surrounded by strangers who needed to hug / thank me (hug fest) and I was moved - dramatically changed, affirmed ... wow.  (Abby-Jill - "sun princess cancer survivor/fighter" & her team "Abby's Hope"- danced and rejoiced and exhibited pure, uninhibited JOY - LIFE in ACTION! They warmly included me into the "fold" and we sweated & wiggled to the music until lights out at 9:00!)

...

My team mate (Scott Coker) and I joined Abby-Jill and her team for breakfast and decided to spend the day as ONE team. Scott was walking and fund raising in her honor. We determined to walk victoriously into closing together, he with swollen, hurting groin, me with my strained right knee. We collected ourselves and began the day.

Abby-Jill walked. She laughed and giggled. She asked me how my sore, sore knee was and I had FORGOTTEN that I couldn't walk, the day before - it was gone - no pain, no strain - totally gone! Abby-Jill claimed and loudly exclaimed that I had been healed ! (She was RIGHT!!!) She laughed with her squeaky voice (HELIUM WOMAN! medicine affected her voice - I actually didn't realize it was "squeaky" -she sounded AWESOME - to me! :)

Abby-Jill walked (Abby from previous post -8/17/07 I've gotta tell about her again - she's a walking miracle!) And walked. And walked. A real trooper. She walked when we KNEW she should take a van but she was determined. Every crossroad she'd stop, stretch and cough - so deeply - we hurt for her.

She'd stand and face forward and she walked some more. 

(Courage in action.  Faith in action.  Christ empowered her and I got the PRIVILEGE of observing it. How amazing...)

Abby-Jill was determined to walk to closing to be part of the "survivor ceremony".

She made it.

We walked across the finish line at 4:30 p.m. - hand in hand, arm in arm - victorious. My little blister "boo-boo" put into perspective by her amazing strength, courage and passion to squeeze each drop out of life that she could - squeeze and drink deeply (was easier than breathing...)

She is my hero.

I have so many, now.

The weekend was a blur - a big 'ol, pink, cozy, loving, amazing blur... and believe it, or not - there are more thoughts, more words."

Already registered for next year, I'm building a team of Warriors in Pink who long to make a difference one step, one dollar, one breast cancer fact at a time: every 3 minutes someone receives a diagnosis of breast cancer.  every 13 minutes breast cancer takes a life.  1 in 8 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer...

How can we ignore the facts?   
I can't.  I just can't.

And so...I walk..."

...and so I walk.

In MEMORY of Abby-Jill.  In support of her grieving family.  We, Warriors in Pink, with renewed purpose, face the future with our eyes on Hope. Eyes on the Cure.  We raise awareness. We raise vital funds for research for the Cure.  We raise our compassionate "war cry" - "we fight until the battle's won - until then --- we fight".

It's the best and the very least we can do - for all the "Abby-Jills"...

God may You be glorified in this fight. May You give wisdom, knowledge and direction to your people in their quest to find the cure... Please give Your divine PEACE in the midst of these storms of life.  We trust You, lift our eyes to YOU and know Your will - WILL be done... may we be found faithful...
(as I know Abby-Jill has already heard: "Abby-Jill, you've been a good and faithful servant"...)

Let's rotate so I can motate!

1:45pm:                                                                                                   

"You did this 3 weeks ago?"

"Yes"   ( ...Uhm, excuse me doc it was after the 1st of the Year!!! 6 weeks!)

"You have a broken hip.  You need a hip replacement immediately."

2:35pm - upon arrival at REGISTRATION at local hospital (walking  IN THE DOOR)

"Are you MaryLou?"

"Yes, got any food?""I'm here to get me fixed up so I can 'motate'!!"

"Doctor (blank) has called 3 times from surgery. He's looking for you."  WE JUST LEFT HIS OFFICE.

3:45pm - in surgical waiting room HURRYING to have chest x-rays, blood work, EKG, etc. Little auntie: "you looking for a girlfriend? I'm here to get fixed so I can 'motate'!"

4:45pm:- doc scurrying in looking for labs  .  Little auntie: "you all go get something to eat.  geesh, I only had toast, I missed my lunch. I'm hungry... you know of any cute docs?"

5:45pm: waiting... "you all go get something to eat.  geesh, I only had toast, I missed my lunch. I'm hungry...since I can't eat , I wonder if that's why I'm so hungry"

6:45pm waiting..."you all go get something to eat.  geesh, I only had toast, I missed my lunch. I'm hungry... hey, you got any cute doctor's around here? well show me some!"

7:45pm waiting... and what was the rush?

8:45pm  2 cute docs. AND 2 cute anesthesiologists  - both of which were "fighting" over who "gets her" when she gets her hip fixed...

10:45pm  9 hours from diagnosis auntie has a new hip and a hospital full of new friends...

Memory or no memory, I watched for hmmmm MANY hours as she navigated ("motated") her way into once-strangers -now-new-buddies' hearts and drew all unto her as a field of lush flowers draws visitors to gaze in awe at such splendor.

She is simply amazing.  Strength. Simple joy. Get it done mentality. And all the while with a smile that pinches up her face and renders her eyes mere slits...

And the next step of this journey begins today - with a new STEP on a NEW HIP...

The "bionic woman" is gonna "motate"!

"I see your true colors-

-shining through.  I see your true colors, and that's why I love you. So don't be afraid to let them show. You're true colors -- are beautiful -- like a rainbow"...

If you ever want to know how it is - how it really is - ask a young child.

Purity. Simplicity.
True colors.

Here we have a little man helping big man work with his stick-"scu-dwy-uh".
Little man putting his "screwdriver" into the screw hole and frustrated that nothing was happening.
Little man, how did you know that something was supposed to happen when you put the screwdriver in the screw hole? You're too young to know that!!

He always knew.

"Hey buddy, what do you want to be when you grow up all big like daddy?"
"Cars"
"You want to be a car driver?"
"Ca-a-rs" (a bit more emphatically)
"You want to be a car?"
"Ca-a-a-a-a-rs!!"  (holding out the word did not really help me get it any easier!)
"You want to have cars? a lot of cars?"
(nodding affirmatively)   "Cars!!!"

For the longest I thought he meant he would have cars, many beautiful shiny cars parked in a huge-o-mongo garage.

Here he is balancing.

This child has always "balanced" far better than I could ever dream to:

play vs work
save vs spend
family vs friends
He's balanced - or at least more balanced than anyone I've ever met before.
Which is foreign to me.
And scares me, a bit.

Showing me a shiny penny  "Momma, I'm c'lecting"
"You're collecting pennies?"
"Yes"
I corrected: "saving, buddy.  Collecting pennies would be called saving pennies."
(with furrowed brow and a frown, under his breath- yet loud enough to hear) "C'lecting!!"
He was right.
Collecting is a different mind set.
Collecting is gathering things that - to him- had value and enjoying them.  Saving is more like gathering and putting away.
The child WAS collecting.

Collecting pennies.
Collecting cars - metal cars, plastic cars, wood cars, calendars of cars...

As he grew, he collected many things:
Friends
And parents of friends who loved him
And baseball hats
And movies
And video games
And everything Pokemon (used to!)
And jokes
And joke books
And athletic shirts with team sponsor names - each one he had passionately played on- soccer and basketball

And drawings of cars
Drawings that I eventually learned would be to add to his collection
of things he longed to do, to accomplish

Fast forward - uh, say 10 years - back to cars.

"Son, now that you're in Junior High, have you been thinking about what you want to do when you're out of High School?"
"Yeah, cars". 
"Uh, more specific than 'cars' - are you saying you want to have many of your favorite cars - because in order to do that you're going to have to work in a field that makes a lot of money in order to be able to afford those cars and the huge-o-mongo-garage to put them in.."  (I'm so wise, seeing the big picture like I do)
"Mom, I've been thinking about making cars"
"Ohhh, like building cars?  like manufacturing?"
"Like where dad works"
"You want to work in a car dealership? oh! and work in the service department and fix cars?"
(with a look of disgust because it was obvious I didn't get it or him...)  "Mom, I want to DESIGN and build  and manufacture cars.  I want to have a CAR COMPANY and call them whatever I want to. I want to design and make cars for people to buy and drive".

Oh.

CA-A-A-ARS... I get it. Finally. (This boy's going to make me a rich old lady)

Okay, now the full truth is - this conversation is the GIST of what actually transpired.
What actually transpired was over numerous conversations, but it all boiled down to this: this child had vision - then and now.
This child researched what FIELDS he would have to go into to become a car designer.
His true colors.

Who thinks like that?  Not me, how foreign.  and a bit scary.

"I love you, Mom".
"Sure love you too, buddy"...

5 minutes later, I hear coming from the living room while engaged in a Tiger Woods golf game:  "I love you, Mom!"
"Love you too, buddy".

Never ashamed to say it or to kiss goodbye in front of friends.
True colors.

Saying goodbye to his stinky-old-man-friend- Bear

February will be 1 year since we had to put down our old-man dog, Bear. Broke our hearts. Timmy & Bear had a love-hate relationship.  Early days, Bear didn't like little boys.  Little boy was broken hearted over a doggie who regularly rejected him & preferred "the mom" in the house.  Little boy loved old doggie anyway.Little boy, now young man, grieving the truth before him: he will be a part of a convoy driving to the vet to put this old, stinky, lovable doggie out of his pain and misery. No matter the dog used to snarl his underbite at the boy. No matter the dog used to jump in mom's lap & not his.

He loved anyway.
Eventually his gushy, amazing love broke through and that old dog loved that boy. And followed him in the house. And jumped his old, hurting feeble self onto the boy's bed where he received a  gentle head rub and oh-so-tender-touch on his oh-so-painful-back.

At the vet, Bear looked into the eyes of the 2 boys from his life - these two- brothers -who loved this old, ugly dog unconditionally -  and this old dog found comfort - you could see it in his eyes - as he drifted off to forever-sleep - looking into the eyes of this man/child the one - the younger brother - who had loved unconditionally until he was loved back...
He collects love by giving it.

(here he's gathering love in from Molly-girl)

Here he's pouring in some love to baby nephew and collecting some beautiful, wet-kiss-I-love- Uncle Timbo, in return.

15 and headed to a ceremony...(6' 1.5")

" My beautiful son.  Happy 16th Birthday!!!  Today, this morning - precisely at 8:07 -as you know- you became 16 years old. Knowing how your brother's world from 16 to 28 was merely "yesterday" - this 16th birthday of yours is "bittersweet".

SWEET:
16 years of showing your family, your friends your world just what an amazing gift we've been given by, God.  Why He entrusted you into our care is beyond me (both of you boys - brothers, are nothing short of awe-inspiring in talent & vision - truly thumbprints of God).  Maybe He knew Dad & I needed you to help grow US.  Maybe He wanted those in our lives to come to know you and help grow you by experiences - rich and full - AND maybe in His wisdom, He knew our WORLD, the world Dad & I move in - needed what you had to bring to it.  What I DO know, is I'm grateful that you are you.  You love deeply.  You hurt deeply but you forgive easily.  You work to make good decisions and choose great friends.  You love the unlovely and unlovable - you feel them.  I'm so proud of you. 

Your growth these 16 years has been spiraling - the last 2 - spiraling UP in intensity and passion and interest.  I watch you calculate numbers in your mind - how you SEE them -and I'm in awe.  And yet as scholarly as you are - I'm so very proud that you are so HUMAN and balanced.  I'm proud that you choose to follow Christ and love that you are drawing closer and resembling Him more each day.  I'm so proud that you choose the hard way, the narrow way, and love all along the way... 

BITTER:  not really bitter - just a bit "sad" because this day brings you one day closer to leaving this nest, from my momma arms, and into the world that is waiting for your adult sensibilities and offerings...

Son, may this year be another milestone toward your goals.   Because intelligence, in and of itself,  is oft sensual and intoxicating, I pray you continue to seek wise counsel and His direction for each "next step". Keep true to your heart. Keep true to yourself for, my son, your TRUE COLORS are, indeed, beautiful - so beautiful.  I love you, buddy.   Happy Birthday! Momma"

My hero is 79 today.

Heroes come in all shapes and ear sizes...

I am the daughter of this man - my hero- and I am so proud.

This is a man that could do anything he put his mind to. Who was only limited by the always-too-fast-decending shadows of nightfall yet held tightly to the hope of another day with more to do.

More than merely mentoring, this man's legacy to his family has been rich with layers of growth: inquisitive mind -exploring- questioning- looking for a better way, a simpler way, a re-design of an old design or a new, brand-new design of something to make a hobby more fun, or high-rise-dwellers safer in case of fire and the need for rapid/safe escape or to make a repair easy with what was on hand...

My father is the kind of man who would take his family to the park: not to play on swings or picnic.  Oh no.  My father is the man who would take his family to the park to witness him: bubbling with excitement - strapping on the safety harness, much like a mountain climber ready to begin ascent to the summit of his "peak of dreams"... he is the man who, rung by rung, each one met with more excitement the the last, successfully climbed up the city water tower (yes, 'tis true)... attaching his fire escape invention to the top ladder rung, and proceeded to test his invention's performance by oh-so-carefully-slowly- lowering himself to the ground - hanging off the side of the tower - oblivious to anything other than the pure joy, the delight and peter-pan-passion (always the glimmer of the boy in his eyes) living a fairy-tale-come- true  moment right in front of us! It worked! And he wasn't arrested! And people's lives were going to be saved!  And it worked!!

He is the man who delights in sharing jokes for the 101st time and each time just as hilarious as the time before and each time accompanied with crinkled-invisible eyes dancing with joy at the buried-treasure hilarity.  This is a man whose rugged, lined face rich with experience, more often than not, softens at the thought of his children... and his children's children... and the joy of the truth of the love passed through generations this joy communicates to well-used tear ducts the need to spill over their banks - yet once again -  upon thoughts of great-grand-baby-love's newest interest (papa tractor!) or sharing inside joke-ery with his beloved, my momma - with words more unsaid than said- between them. Their language of love and of life so oft unspoken, yet known and well-worn like a favorite pair of brown leather shoes - the ones that wrap oh-so-familiarly around your foot, as if you slipped them on when the chocolate was warm and sweet and thick and it cooled to exact-foot-fit proportions.

This man is driven to love - driven by the love of his Lord to love others.

Passionate.
Fiercely protective.
Often and freely gifts his love to strangers who may or may not be worthy of it, but are reciepients, nonetheless.

Today, February 3, 2008 this man is 79.

I am honored to be his daughter.
I'm honored to share pieces of his nature.  Nice way of saying I have his "hard head" : he loves to call me a "chip off the old block-head"!!! I'm proud to carry on the blood line with his "Allen ears" that he's worn so proudly and I've worked so hard to cover up! I'm proud to have learned to find a bargain and see that bargain as an INVESTMENT and buy them all to sell later! (smile!)

I'm honored to be his daughter - from sitting on his shoulders as a little girl- to rebuilding front porches on office buildings - to sharing hopes and concerns of the future with tender, almost secretive / knowing looks... (changes...changes...)

I read this poem recently, by Stanley Kunitz ---how I saw Dad in it's pictures...

Touch Me, from Collected Poems   
Stanley Kunitz

Outdoors all afternoon
under a gunmetal sky
staking my garden down,
I kneeled to the crickets trilling
underfoot as if about
to burst from their crusty shells;
and like a child again
marveled to hear so clear
and brave a music pour
from such a small machine.
What makes the engine go?
Desire, desire, desire.
The longing for the dance
stirs in the buried life.
One season only,
and it’s done.

So let the battered old willow
thrash against the windowpanes
and the house timbers creak.
Darling, do you remember
the man you married? Touch me,
remind me who I am.

On this, his 79th birthday, I am most inspired by his DESIRE, DESIRE, DESIRE - the longing for the dance of this glorious life- to:

Love God
And because he loves God so passionately and so tenderly... he

Loves Man
And because he loves God so passionately and tenderly, that naturally  makes him love man so deeply and he's driven to...

Speak with the world
Help the world
Love the people of the world
And do anything and everything possible to
Serve the world... (because God so loved the world that He sent His Son...)

Thanks, Papa, for living the faith life right in front of me and my children.  Thank you for being a strong example of hope, and trust and good moral values.  Thank you for showing what to look for in a husband by being a faithful, loving, protective husband to mom.  Thank you for parenting, for sometimes over-parenting and for being driven, by love, to serve your family. Thank you for the countless times you've sacrificed for your family.  For each job you worked to provide.  For each hour you spent away from home to put food on the table and give your family a warm place to dwell.  Thank you for teaching me how to shoot a gun at targets, for treating me like a PERSON not "just a girl", for trusting me and for your FRIENDSHIP.  I love you, dad.  Thanks for "this dance"... Oh, and Pop, I still won't break.

Happy Birthday, with love...

When no one's looking...

I have a confession...
I'm an actress... a "pretender" a "don't meet a stranger" kind of girl who usually has a "quick wit" and can carry a crowd...
A jester...
A public-speaker-y-kinda-gal...
...who has always felt so alone in a crowd and was really shy - when no one was looking...

UNTIL MARCH 07

It was March of 07 when I heard my first 3-Day commercial.

It was March of 07 when I first felt my heart gripping my chest at the thought of so many women and men whose lives have been permanently altered by breast cancer.

It was March of 07 when I learned my beautiful (then 46) cousin Karen was battling stage 3 breast cancer.
Karen: married professional, 2 kids at home, 2 adult, now 1 grandchild... and my heart -once again- jumped out of my chest and put it's "hands" right around my mind and gripped me with an intense "NEED TO DO SOMETHING"!!!

It was March of 07 when I KNEW the 3-Day was MY something to do.

Actresses can play "the part".  Good ones can make you believe almost anything... I've gotten on bandwagons before.  Serious at the time, but all to often the passion burned up like throwing newspaper on a bonfire: hot flame - IMMEDIATELY consumed up.  No long lasting flame...

Until I became a Warrior in Pink and have transformed into a WEAPON of MASS destruction. 
Whether walking alone - training in March, cold, snowy Indiana trails...
Whether shopping in town, out of town, going to church, going out to eat - my mind thinks "breast cancer awareness!  Hope!  Must find a cure!  Where would be a great fund raiser?  Would this place give more parking for this particular event.  I wonder how _____'s doing - Oh God heal her! Give her/ him/ them healing and direction to good/right doctors and PEACE for them and their families and , and, and..."

The thoughts don't end.

Maybe a bit Obsessive Compulsive. 

Like the song from my old-school days:  "if (loving you) obsessing about finding a cure for breast cancer and raising awareness and giving people an edge with early detection" is wrong I don't wanna be right!"

How am I when no one's looking?  I'm passionately pursuing :planning fundraising, training walks, etc. for yet another 3-Day (August 08, Chicago) and researching air fare for DC CREWING in October 08!

I look back at 07 and realize how, at 51 I've transformed into an activist.  I have learned about the "power of the individual" and the "dynamic force of many" as taught as a philosophy of Nancy Brinker - sister of Susan G. Komen. 

Although, I cannot do much of anything practical for my cousin:
I can pray...
I can walk...
I can't ease the burdens of thousands of loved ones watching their family members going through pain and hair loss and sickness:
I can raise funds...
I can't do so much...
BUT I CAN do so much by doing ANYTHING.

My hope, my prayer is that the fire I feel - the passion- will translate and will inspire those whom I'm blessed to come into contact with.  May they know - may they, too, realize the joy of being real - of learning to love - for REAL- even when no one's watching... 

33 and gone...

Her name:Barbara Marie.  Named after her mother Louise Marie.

Louise Marie died of breast cancer, at the age of 44, leaving her 15 year old daughter, Barbie, her 2 sons- 17 & 10 (precious Chad) at home, grieving their mother.

Barbie: 33, died after battling cancer for 4 years, leaving 1 son, 2 daughters, a loving husband and a family full of people who would be broken at her passing.

Barbie was my step-daughter - a life-time ago.
She died in 2001.
I just found out 4 days ago - this is January 2008.

I'm heartbroken and have just figured out how deeply affected... I'm grieving this loss- 6.5 years after it happened.

Consequences of DIVORCE.

When I met Barbie, her dad & I were newly dating.  He, grieving the loss of his wife.  Me, grieving the loss of my son's dad (he died at 35) although we were no longer together, my heart was broken at the incredible waste...  Barbie became the "little momma" in her house, fiercely taking care of her older brother and younger brother, while their daddy continued his out-of-town-job-world traveling, providing.
He 17 years older. Me 17 years younger thinking 17 years didn't make that much difference.

For whatever reasons: most of them wrong, we married - within 4 months.

I packed up my life, my (then) 6 year old son and we transplanted our lives 1 hour East of home. Only 1 hour away - but an entire world away: strangers, trouble, pain, sorrow - friendless and now familiar-family-less...

Why I didn't realize that moving into a house where just 1 year earlier their momma had taken her last breath in the very bed I now shared with their dad - would be painful to everyone (including me) - why that didn't occur to me - I don't know.  Youth, maybe.

2 weeks into the marriage, I found a wedding ring in the cabinet underneath my personal coffee cup.
Louise's.

1 month into the marriage, I found family photos in the tool kit.
In the mailbox.
In MY Bible.
Photos of Louise in various places, always hugging her kids.

Initially rocked by this personal "attack" I soon realized it wasn't about "me" - it was about their grief.

Purchasing photo albums, I began gathering each photo of their mom I could find. Based on any note on the back or even just assessing her age by "appearance" I proceeded to create memory books of Louise.  One for each of the 3 kids at home (not the 2 married boys).  When presenting these books to the kids, I told them I knew they were broken & so sad, and that I - in no way- was there to "replace" their sweet momma.  I would be happy to be a friend, and that, regardless, I loved them.

Finding random photos in strange places - stopped.  I don't know who. It didn't matter. I do know why. THAT's what mattered...

The baby boy (10) eventually cried in my arms and let me work into his heart... I remember praying with the boys - bunk beds- my little boy on the bottom & "my new" bigger boy on the top bunk - there were times I'd kiss him goodnight, look at him and feel like I had "birthed" him - so great the love for this child. Not the "real momma" just a "momma's love"...  He & my son became friends, buddies. I loved those boys...

And that girl.  I loved that girl.

However, Barbie, was a tough one.  I'd try to  shop with her, for her. Do girly things as buds.  She worked me (she thought) and I happily let her - trying to connect.  I loved her.  Thick, curly, long brown hair - absolutely the BEST "momma" to her brothers (I learned alot from her!) - she stayed guarded - not really allowing me to enter her heart - but tried to be as kind to me as possible (most of the time). 

How hard to have another woman living in the house her mother had created such a warm home in.
How difficult to see that other woman making changes (paint, paper, etc.) in the home she held onto as "mom"- then becoming unfamiliar... (I didn't realize) right before her eyes.

Those years- 4.5 of them - were rocky - to put it mildly.  VERY mildly. Nightmare is more accurate. Not the kids (they kept me sane) - just the marriage...
He (my ex) would reach out to touch us and then feel guilty when the kids would enter the room & would either push us away or worse... we won't go into that.

He had made his bed and he didn't sleep in it.
I had entered a world where YEARS of grieving and processing NEEDED TO HAPPEN and I didn't realize it. He wasn't the monster he acted like.
I wasn't the monster he made me out to be.
God knows my heart.
God knows my intent.
He knows.
BUT, through the PAIN of divorce, our kids were - again- the victims - like a big, bloody wound - finally scabbed over with a thick, crusty scab - and then the scabbed RIPPED off, leaving the same, original big, bloody wound - once again- but ever-so-slightly-smaller  - but raw, gaping and bleeding - once again.

I grieved, my little man & I escaped (before being locked out) and moved on.

How do you love and turn it off?
How do you look at children - love them- and then go on like 4 years of holding and basketball games, and winter dances, and proms and praying for and feeding and loving - like it never happened.  You go your way, I'll go mine.

When we made the decision to divorce - I was "cast out". I never got the chance to explain to them - I never got to tell them - one last time how much I had grown to love them and that they were not responsible for any of this mess.  I never got to say good-bye... (not to mention the intense PAIN my baby boy felt - his loss - "brother" ripped from him - moving - once again - his world turned upside down AGAIN- that's a series of posts - causing children unnecessary pain - how they're affected - how, nonetheless God's intervened and healed him & has grown him into a beautiful, healthy man...)

So here, 6.5 years later, in researching my prior names & how much personal info is on the web, I find her name in her obituary.

She died and I didn't know.

We had lived together as family 4.5 years and I didn't know...

She's been gone 6.5 years and it feels like "last week" to me...

I don't know how I'm supposed to feel.
I wonder if- deep down- she KNEW I loved her - regardless of what "he" might have said.
I wonder if the pain we caused, contributed to an unhealthy body that eventually led to her demise?

I won't own her death.  I know she discovered God & accepted his love.  I'll trust that she knew "the truth".

So, for now, I'll pray for her family: kids, husband, brothers, nephews - dad - now 6.5 years later.
I'll pray for healing.
For peace.
And that none of them ever experience the pain, the grief, the horror of such "unresolved loss"----6.5 years later...

What I'm painting, lately...

When I'm upset my mind FLOWS. Colors thick, dark, ominous and slippery, clogging on my brush like an elmer's glue and chocolate mixture.

Painting easily.  Painting ugly.

When I'm struggling, or upset, words form, all too easily, thoughts spurt into messy spray, like an early spring thaw that render the streets wet and muddy and newly-washed-in-celebration-of-warmer-days-to-come-salty-vehicles that shudder free of their winter crust like a wet dog, only to be defiled by an unseen, MUDDY water-filled pot hole - that sends it's grimy, day-old-coffee-offering up the fenders and windshields, while wiper blades smush and groan in effort to clean it's formerly pristine crystal... clouding the picture, once again...

(drive clean car through nasty mud puddle = dirty car )

Okay so I still have words.
Lots of words.

But, the fact remains, when I'm deeply charged they flow from a deeper well.

Days of sunny-delight, of peace and comfort and joy, and snuggly-bug, cozy family, friends and lap doggy kisses - are those rare times when silence is golden.  Lazy naps.  Leisurely strolls. Calm.  Blessed assurance. Painting blue skies and chirping birds - la, la, la.

But I'm finding in these la,la,la moments that my goal is to cherish the peace - not take it for granted and waste it.  Those beautiful nuggets of peace I think I should value more. Appreciate more. Be "present" more - IN the peace. The difference between swimming and floating.  Pro-active peace.  Is there such a thing? 

Grateful for peace.
A conscious attitude of thankfulness that motivates my thoughts and actions.
Blessed tidbits.
Morsels.
"Taste and see that the Lord is good..." Psalm 34:8a New International version

Tasting is an action. Experience. Doing.

In consciously "experiencing" peace, my hope, my ultimate goal is to show honor and gratitude to Him who, alone, gives me true peace, lasting peace in the very midst of the storms of life.

(and ooo, baby are there ever storms!!!)

I long to create thoughts from a place of calm reflection. Deep-smooth, so clear-you-can- -see-the-bottom- pool... where tree roots grow deeper, deeper reaching for nutrient-rich soil and tree limbs grow taller, stronger from being well watered and well fed...
Hmmm... Psalm 1:

1 Happy is the man who does not walk in the way sinful men tell him to, or stand in the path of sinners, or sit with those who laugh at the truth.

2 But he finds joy in the Law of the Lord and thinks about His Law day and night.

3 This man is like a tree planted by rivers of water, which gives its fruit at the right time and its leaf never dries up. Whatever he does will work out well for him.       

"God, you know my rising up and laying down - and every moment, each thought in between.  I want less of me, more of You and whatever it takes to make that happen.  OUCH, that's a frightening thing to ask for - I know enough to know that I'd better not ask for something if I don't really want it - I know You'll provide the means and the OPPORTUNITY to learn these lessons - and so often it's through pain.

Looking at my family - pain.  Joy mixed with pain. Heart ache.  Heart break.  Changing. Transforming. Deteriorating. Regenerating.  Each person dealing with their own issues, and each one holding a place in my heart. Nonetheless, YOU love each one more than I ever possibly could. So I choose, again, and again to trust You. To lay them at your feet.  Grandbaby love, and sons & daughter love, and marriage love and parent love and ministry love... I lay it all... and I choose to look to You.  again. to lean on You- again.

Lord, You're so worth it. You're faithful.  You're the CONSTANT in an ever-changing land. So I'm leaning on You, resting in You and, in doing so, I'll be growing more like You.

So, dear Lord, it's the Big Picture, this "Masterpiece" of life, THAT's the one I long for You to paint in me and through me...

...and so I learn another brush stroke...  Thank You."   Amen.

I Scream for I Scream!

Nope, no typo there.

Scream.

Scream.   inside scream.  outside a wee bit scream... a widdle bit...

A day, today, of trying to ease life for others:
    -one person's fear issues (where? when? why? where again? are you sure? where?)
    -ease one person's allergic to animal in house- please disinfect it for me issues
    -ease one person's packing/travel/snack issues
    -ease one person's filing - I can't remember what I was doing, what is this and where do I put it?      
        issues
    -ease one person's running out of clean underwear issues and the dryer doesn't work (hard to INSTANT
        DRY COTTON briefs - I don't care how high you have the blow dryer)

... and I'm looking at the word "issues" and it looks wrong.  Why do correctly-spelled words look wrong sometimes? Like the word "please" or "me" or any simple, normal word, but to me right now it all looks wrong?  and could it be stress?  could it be busy, busy, busy and I'm going to explode any moment?  again?  like at a person who doesn't deserve it.  like a son who does 15 year 11 month old son-type-things, as sons do, and it JUST WAS THE LAST- THE VERY LAST STRAW and I explode - but didn't cuss (this time) because I was at least choosing to have some-minute-form-of-control- so as to TRY to be a Godly  example to this man-child...

-and it's only 2:52 p.m. and so much left to do...
-and, already I feel a little better...
-taking time to process...

Lord, I guess I'm grateful that I'm capable of doing so many things for so many.  You made me capable of doing quite a bit of stuff - some of it quite cool.  When it all piles up, like it has been over the past week - I too often fail to turn it over to You in the moment-to-moment.  All too often it's in the "too late - done blown a gasket" way, or when it's already to the point that my mind or body or combination, thereof, breaks down in some way FORCING me to take a breather.

You alone, are ALL things to ALL people.  Help me say "no" or "not right now" or "okay" but when YOU ordain it so.  As you lead, help me hear You better - I will work at choosing to listen and obeying - BEFORE meltdown or before crash and burn.  I can't be as effective as You'd like me to be when I'm doing to much in my own strength.  Forgive me for racing through this week planting myself in too big of a "pot" --- you alone can fill that sized thing... I'm quite scrawny on my own...

Okay, Lord, thank You and lead me into GREEN PASTURES where there is YOUR peace...

AHHHHHH... now that's better...

God's a hoot or "I smell a skunk" part 2

I smell a skunk.

I mean, I smell, breathe, taste, gag a skunk...

Okay, so on Jan 4, Friday morning, I wrote about SKUNK-ery: How to Kill a church...or I think I smell a skunk...  

About those who stink (hurt people)- of which I ended by OH SO INCLUDING myself in the stinkdom. And that was it. La, la, la.  I wrote it. I learned. Good for me. La, la, la, la.

January 4th, LATE MORNING, I dropped my car off at shop for new brakes.
January 6th, Sunday during church, I received message brakes done, pick up after service.
January 6th, Sunday AFTER church when picking up said vehicle, the very honest, very amazing guy (my brother!) who replaced said brakes on said car, met me with a smile on his face and said:  "Well, I've got some good news and some bad news.  Brakes are great.  Your car, however, smells ...well..."

He proceeded to tell me his beautiful white wolf/shep mix dog was sprayed by skunk: direct hit - in face.  Eyes swollen, nose inflamed - stinking to high heaven.  (she's okay now...)  Okay, so stinking to high heaven and stinking up anything within 25 yards of her...

I've never really been that close to a "direct hit" but , my brother told me, the stuff is like THICK YELLOW SYRUPY urine .  Gross.  Thick so it sticks. Sticks and stinks.  PERMEATES - victim and innocents - skunk stink is a non-respecter of person, place or thing.  It more than overwhelms the senses.  To put it mildly.  Gag a maggot more accurately.  And that's bad. Real bad.

Okay, so huge white dog + skunk stink @ 1:00 in a.m. at a work shop with vehicles - mine only one going out - all windows opened + upholstered seats = acting like a SPONGE to said stink.  It all adds up to gross. And I'm driving GROSS...

Oh, my.

Brakes are great.  Those suckers work better than when I bought the car. Oh but I can't stand to be in that car - the one with the great brakes. That stinkin' car is miserable - as in, even driving @ 40 MPH with all windows open & fan blowing  it is still gag-a-maggot-stinking-gross.

It occurs to me.

Was my Friday am post a tad "prophetic"?  (hmmm...)
Was my Friday am post a tad "heretical" and here - ZAP! This serves me right?
Was my Friday am post real.  It was real, it was heart felt, but it was too easy.

Write it down.  Over with. But here, girl, here is an example of how STINK lingers, long after the "spray" of words, or thoughts or deeds are done.

Far longer lasting that I realized.
Stinkier than I realized.
Farther reaching and absorbing, than I realized.
Far more damaging than I have ever, ever realized, until now.

It's one thing to recognize when my own "stink" occurs.
It's one thing to admit, confess when my own "stink" occurs.
It's another thing to UNDO the DAMAGE done (can't)
It's another thing to RETRACE, and RETRACT the damage done (can't)
It's another thing to PREVENT the stink and thereby preventing the impending damage.. Oh CAN - but HOW!?

Now I'm not vain enough to think/say that I CAN and WILL never, ever again STINK like a SKUNK in my world of "working out my salvation" - in this dance, this life, this walk in relationship with Christ... I AM saying that I must do a better job, a FAR better job of surrendering to His goodness and allow Him more access to my MOUTH, to my HEART to my MIND and THEN and ONLY then will I stink less. I long to STINK LESS, now that I know how stinky, really stinky I can be and how long, how very, very LONG my stinky lasts...

In the meantime, I'm tootling around town in a SAFE, STINKY vehicle that well-serves to remind me: (and is truly the MORAL OF THIS STORY)  when I point out stink, I'd better be prepared to smell "my own" - 'cuz  I'm loved enough to be shown a lesson...or two...

I've got to admit: God's sense of humor is kind of hilarious. 

(I get it.)

How to kill the Church, without trying...or Do you smell a skunk?

Far easier for me to take being hurt - than when someone hurts my loved ones.  Easier to forgive and forget.

Hurt my babies - you'll regret it sucker.

Or you should.

And my mind thinks dark things.  It dwells there.  And I like it.
And my mind sees dark things about those who kill/maim my loved ones with their words.
With their actions.
With their LACK OF ACTIONS, LACK OF WORDS, LACK OF CARE. LACK OF CONCERN.         
That stinks.
Stinks.
Like a skunk stink - that wafts up from who-knows-where-but you KNOW it's a skunk-stink.

And in some sick way I like it because then my anger is justified, because, after all it stinks.

And my guts churn a little (okay - a lot!)
And I like it.

And I seek escape from those idiots who hurt my loved ones. 
And I seek revenge for those idiots who hurt my loved ones.
And I seek to set things right,
To make all aware,
To confront,
To mangle with my well-placed dagger/tongue-with-precision -of-a-surgeon, cutting to the heart.   
ZAP! ZOW! SMACK! WHACK!   
With Cat-Woman accuracy...
In Jesus' name.                                                                   (forgive me, Lord...)

And it stinks.

And my guts churn.
And my guts churn.
And they churn some more.   
And my hardening-with-each-thought-heart aches, deeper & deeper still.
Until the ache subsides a bit.
And morphs more into numb.

Numb is scary.
Numb is FLAT-LINING  while breathing breaths...
Numb is walking zombie-like through life
And Life is a gift
And to live in NUMB is rejecting the gift of LIFE and is death.

And I don't like it.
And I KNOW the "Giver of Life" doesn't like it and would rather I be all one  way or the other, but certainly not NUMB... and I surrender ... just a little... just a step toward soft...

...and a glimmer of light squeezes through.
Ever-so-slight-glimmer that gently calls me, beckons me, pulls me
Away from numb
From dark
From angry
From pain..
...to hope
To peace
To understanding
To sorrow, because those who hurt my loved ones are so blind, so very blind that they don't even realize that their own world, their world of DOING, of SERVING, of LEADING, of DOING, DOING, DOING is so fast, fast DOING that one of the most IMPORTANT GOD-GIVEN assignments given to them - was missed.
God-given.
Love others as you love yourself.
"Even as you have done it unto the least of these- you've done it unto Me". (God have mercy)

"Kill" YOUNG (in faith, in age, in maturity) in the church and WE WILL KILL THE CHURCH.

WE ARE THE CHURCH.

God have mercy on those who "kill" their own.
Who "eat their young"...
Employees.
Co-laborers.
Leaders.
Men.
Women.
Elder Christ followers.
"Adolescent" Christ followers.

God have mercy on Your CHURCH - YOUR PEOPLE who "kill" YOUR PEOPLE...

Even as they have done it unto the "least" (young, innocent, helpless, hurting, etc.)
    Ignore the least...You've been ignored.
    Care more about feeding a "fat" belly than feeding a "hungry" soul ... You've been starved.
    Ignore the pain of a mourning friend/co-worker/employee-spouse...Lord Jesus Christ, You, Yourself  have been ignored.

Father forgive them, they know not what they do.
Have mercy on them.

And heal.
Heal my loved ones.
Give peace.
Comfort.
They may never have answers, but please give them Peace.

Help me see those who hurt those I love through Your eyes & not through my own.  Make my heart soft and teach me how to speak the TRUTH in LOVE.  Help me hold my tongue until I CAN speak the TRUTH in LOVE.

Your word says: "If my people who are called by My name, shall humble themselves and pray, and seek My face and turn from their evil ways, then I'll hear from heaven, forgive their sin, and heal their land..."
Thanks God, for that promise.
Oh God, heal MY land (my heart, my soul, my mind...)
Heal my loved ones' land..
And heal the land of those who were too blind to see the error of their ways...
And help me forgive them.
Help ME love them.

And use me as an instrument of PEACE of Your LIFE.

Help ME realize and fully obey YOU, for as I'VE done it unto the LEAST OF THEM - I've done it unto YOU!
Ouch.
Oh, ouch, ouch, ouch...
That stinks.
I stink.
So I guess I've been a stinkin' skunk too.

Stink.

A new year. A new day... really?

2008 off to a good start. 

Sickness has kept me in the house since Friday (count 'em that's 5 days indoors - and resting.) Staying still - quiet has helped me think through things.  Visualize. Process. Plan. Strategize.  Prioritize. 

Looking to 2008 to be a new beginning.

I know change is on the horizon.
Love it.
Love change.
Thrive on it.
Welcome it.
Create it.
Sometimes reel from it, but overall - am energized by it.

BUT! When "change for the sake of change" is inevitable and I'm bored already before the change has "changed" - meaning if I get bored with change because change is so frequent, even change becomes routine...then maybe "change" in and of itself can become a dreaded "band-aid" on a problem better addressed with a different approach.  (that is change too, is it not? different?)

Weird how when thinking this through it made sense at the time...

Okay, so like underwear... you take your shower/bath (whatever)  to clean your very own self and you change your "drawers" as my Southern momma calls 'em.  Then, say 1 hour later, after you come back home from a breakfast meeting at a greasy spoonish restaurant and you can't stand having your clothes smell like the grease so you go to change into clean non-greasy-smelling clothes,then once off, you realize the stink is in your hair & on your body too, so what the heck you jump into the shower & get the greasy stink off of you.  Now remember, it's only been an hour or so since your FIRST shower.

You towel dry and you put on new underwear.

Why?

I like clean underwear just like the next gal, but this situation would cause me to ponder... and consider that IF I DID put the 1ish hour old undies back on and IF I did put on new clothes over the 1ish hour old undies --- why then, knowing they're still quite FRESH, why would a rational person such as myself (go with me here) fully dressed and heading out the door - then turn around, running back down the hallway to rip off the fresh clothes and rip off those danged now 1.5ish hour old drawers and put on new , fresh-fresh right out of the dresser or dryer panties just so she'd seem "right".  feel right? hmmm?

Later, looking back , I realized I did, indeed, create more work for myself.  Those 1.5ish hour old panties, were indeed "nearly-fresh", and that should have been fine.I just added one more garment to the "dirty clothes" hamper. More work. Why change?  Was it change for the sake of change?

Sometimes, when routine turns into stagnancy, change is in order to break things up.   Like driving one way to work and another way home. But if I drive the same way to work and the same way home - ROUTINELY  (even though different from each other) - then I'm still creating redundancy, and really cannot be considered "breaking things up".  Change was merely an illusion.

So maybe it's not "change" that inspires me so much as the attempt to allow new input, to invite unfamiliar exchanges, to welcome different people, places, ideas to inspire me, teach me, motivate me, fuel me:  GROW me.

Okay, that put neatly to rest, I'm a thinkin' the real issue for me in 2008 is this:
Assess:  what is weak and needs strengthening in my life, mind, body, personality,etc. (etc.= lots more!)
Address: what is weak, not working, is working in my life, mind, body, personality, etc.
Seek: to grow, to know, to worship, God's will, His way, His face, His mercy
Seek: to become more of Him, less of me, which actually transforms me into what He created me to be like in the FIRST place - which IS "me", the "real me", unlimited by MY limitations, by MY ideas of who, what, how I should be and INSTEAD grow into what HE uniquely hand-crafted me to be from the beginning, which is FAR, FAR more than I would ever imagine for myself!  Woo hoo!
SO then, I must first give myself permission to:
Dream.
Blue Sky.
Listen.
To myself.
To His sweet, still voice.
Dream.
Trust.
Obey.
Obey is an action.
A verb.
Do it.
Just do it.
So, this day - this new day of 2008, I (me) will PURPOSE to be transformed in His image, more than before. Growing more like the One who guides me through this oft-rocky path, yet shepherding me through dark valleys of discouragement, and protecting me through illness, strengthening me through weakness of heart, of mind, of soul, and  ever-so-gently holding me when I need Comfort most in order to be better at offering comfort to those who need it most. To receive His love more - CONSCIOUSLY - because He offers it ALWAYS, every moment of every day - to receive His love ON PURPOSE, as I practice the presence of God more each day - and in receiving LOVE, feeling Love I will, in turn, be more free at GIVING love.

Hard to love others when you don't love self.  "Love your neighbor as yourself."  A directive from Jesus. Okay then, I will work at loving self; which should be much easier to do if I LIKE myself better, because I am becoming LESS LIKE ME and MORE LIKE HIM - which brings us full circle, doesn't it?

But this time the goal is not "change to change", it is "being transformed by the renewing of my mind" which, when looking BACK I will, absolutely see "change" has happened. Transformation is a living change.  A continuing process...

Transformation   –noun 

1.	the act or process of transforming.

2.	the state of being transformed.

3.	change in form, appearance, nature, or character.

change    /tʃeɪndʒ/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[cheynj] verb,  changed, chang·ing, noun  –verb (used with object) 

1.	to make the form, nature, content, future course, etc., of (something) different from what it is or from what it would be if left alone: to change one's name; to change one's opinion; to change the course of history.

2.	to transform or convert

It's a good thing I claim to like change - because, if I really mean it - that I desire to be TRANSFORMED in His image - then, change is inevitable.  (Not for "change" sake - for His sake)

Yep, it's a new day -  every day.

Time to get started on the transformation...

and go wash a load of underwear...

Who cares?

No, really.

Who cares?

When unexpected tragedy strikes (isn't it usually "unexpected"?) we, humanity, are often faced with a huge, resounding decision:

Care or not care.

As a Christ follower I've got a responsibility: be transformed into His image.  To do that I've got to know what  His image LOOKS like.

In the New Testament of the Bible there's a story about a family who were close friends with Jesus.  Mary, Martha - sisters and Lazarus, brother.   At one point, Lazarus was sick - deathly sick and the sisters sent word to Jesus that he was sick and going to die - and PLEASE COME TO US!  Jesus was ministering in a different location, finished what he was doing THEN went to the family.

Upon arrival, he was greeted with sorrowful tears & wailing - indeed, Lazarus had died, and was already entombed.  Cave - large stone in front, going to be rolled to close the opening.

Jesus. Son of God. Miracle man. 

He greeted the sisters.  They cried.
He cried.
He cried with them.  Probably hugged & held them, too.

He cried.

Then he raised Lazarus from the dead.

 

What?  Why didn't he just rush in, super-Jesus! Ready to save the day! Raise Laz from the dead right away - in front of sisters & mourners & make a big spectacle!

Why did he stop and mourn with the sisters first?

Years ago, when first reading that story I thought it odd for numerous reasons. Since he was God, why didn't he zap Laz well from afar -while in the other city? why did he wait to make a personal appearance to the family? why did he cry?  after all He was God, and he knew he was going to raise him from the grave, why did he cry?

Because He cared.

Not about what he said to them. Or what meals he brought over (although a great help). Or showing up to the service or buying flowers ...

Jesus loved this family so much that he felt THEIR pain.  He felt THEIR loss and he wept WITH them.
The ONE, who if ANYONE would have the "right words to say" - would be Him... yet...he cried WITH them.

Made in His image?  He cared.  Do I?  Really?

The days after a tragedy.  Do I care?  Does my world just go on with it's busy-nes? Do I get so caught up in the day-to-day responsibilities and projects that my care dissolves?  Right when it's most dark for some - when they are trying to navigate the world in a new pain --- do I become invisible?

When I think I need to or want to say SOMETHING, anything, that would make it "better", but no words come - do I merely STAY INVISIBLE and useless?

Or do I choose to care?

Do I weep for those who weep?
Do I mourn with those who mourn?
Do I?
Do you?

So wrong...

I didn't know him well. 

I knew he battled with addiction. 

I knew he struggled to regain self.  Addiction steals "self" from it's victims - drink by drink, pill by pill, choice by out-of-control-choice - it turns who we are into altered-minded life-forms.

Unrecognizable except by form.   Often unreachable. Often irrational.  Often defensive.  Often guilt-ridden. These attach themselves to their "victim" and eat relentlessly away at our very humanity.

He married. He fathered children.  He "adopted" children as his own. He grandpa'd his own, and grandpa'd AS his own. He showed love in generous ways. He touched his world, in spite of addiction, and the world is now at a loss - he is no longer in it.

In deluded thinking, he chose to "free" himself of the pain of addiction - and to "free his loved ones.

Deluded thinking robbed our planet of his swagger.  of his crooked grin.  of a daddy.  of a husband . of an in-law.  Deluded thinking is a thief.

He is no longer in "pain" - yet his family recoils from the shock, and merely begins to pick up the pieces of this, now-fractured season of "hope" and "light" - mixing grief with determination to go on.

How can someone so "distant" to my own revolutions in this world, have affected me so deeply? shaken me to my core?  The ripples created by  this loss are immeasurable.

For now, I pray.  I know there won't be answers, but there certainly can be "peace".

"Oh dear God, our Heavenly Father. You who sent Your very own, beloved Son to become a "baby people" - to take on our life-form and become us, fully - You, Oh God, so understand the feeling of loss, of grief and anguish.  Please reach deeply into the hearts of the hurting and smooth the painful, jagged pieces - lead through the grieving process and , as you ALONE can do - bring all these things together - somehow- use this for "good"... for those who love You.  We love you and hold on to You for any hope. For any peace and hold on tightly to the "comfort" and "joy" of the season that can only be found in You.

For this I thank you.  I trust you.  I love you.

Oh, and dear God... You are truly the "Father of the fatherless" - and this family needs you now, as "Father", as "Husband" and as "Comfort" more than ever. 

Thank you.  With love, and deep gratitude for your faithfulness..."