O, cows, how you huddle in piles
Noses tucked into your sides against the wind,
Making me smile as I bluster past
you in my car, enroute to work, snow swirling.
I, myself, am bundled in the auto,
Ralphie's-brother-like,
Braced against the ridiculous Idaho temps.
I bet Randy was not as grateful as I
to his Mama for buying him a Cuddl Duds cami
to keep the top half warmer, and
to his bro and sis-in-law for the warm silk pants under the pants
to keep the evil wind at bay, and
to the Mama and the Daddy for the stadium coat
to which all others bow in envy of its downy warmitude.
Human seven-layer-Mexican-dip, am I!
A wintry, pasty version.
Then there is the mane. Its purpose in
Winter is to grow long and thick; keep my
Noggin warm, o wads of curls.
However,
if a ringlet escapes, unknown, into the
Cold, as groceries you load into the
Car, it becomes a tube of chilly horror,
which, surreptitiously, as
You reach to start the engine,
Slips back inside your coat collar,
Encircling your neck,
an icy feather boa.
From your throat:
"Yeeeeeaaaaw-ha-ha-haaaaa!"
And again you bow to the cold.
Not unlike the sun, stared
Down by the grass, snow-encrusted,
saying to the mighty orb in the sky,
"Yes, here you may bring light! But,
You will bring no warmth!
My snow
WILL STAY!
Neener! Neener! NEENER!"
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
It Cuts Both Ways
A compliment to me, but maybe not to Kari Jo, my cousin: Someone at the church where I spoke last weekend thought we were sisters, which is a very nice compliment to me; Kari is about 10 years my junior and red-headed and pretty much the cutest and fittest of us four grandkids on the Slusser side. We went to my Uncle Chris's house for lunch after the service and Mommy took a nice picture of us.
A compliment to Uncle Chris (Kari's dad), but maybe not to me: Someone else at the church thought my Uncle Chris, 19 years my senior, was my brother! My mom cracked up when I told her someone had said how nice it was that my brother went to the church; Mom said, "What a nice compliment!"
I said, "Yeah, for Uncle Chris! Hello!"
Sigh. I guess it doesn't matter in the big scheme. Uncle Chris is still my favorite uncle 38 years into the role, and Kari is my only cousin also in the "First-Born Over-Responsible Daughters Club" and has a brother just like mine (Those boys think we are bossy; can you imagine? Whatever!), so I'll keep 'em both :)
A compliment to Uncle Chris (Kari's dad), but maybe not to me: Someone else at the church thought my Uncle Chris, 19 years my senior, was my brother! My mom cracked up when I told her someone had said how nice it was that my brother went to the church; Mom said, "What a nice compliment!"
I said, "Yeah, for Uncle Chris! Hello!"
Sigh. I guess it doesn't matter in the big scheme. Uncle Chris is still my favorite uncle 38 years into the role, and Kari is my only cousin also in the "First-Born Over-Responsible Daughters Club" and has a brother just like mine (Those boys think we are bossy; can you imagine? Whatever!), so I'll keep 'em both :)
Check the Bag!
The next time you make yourself some tasty Kraft Macaroni & Cheese and you do that maneuver where you waggle the bag of cheese mix back and forth from one end of the package to make sure all the cheese dust is at the other end before you open it...
check to see how intact the bag is. It could be that you give it one good wag and the heavy end goes flying, splaying orange cheese granules all over your stove, counter, floor, and you as it completes its giant arc through the air and you stand there with an inch of the bag remaining in your hand.
Guess the kitchen wanted a pre-spring cleaning anyway. Oy.
check to see how intact the bag is. It could be that you give it one good wag and the heavy end goes flying, splaying orange cheese granules all over your stove, counter, floor, and you as it completes its giant arc through the air and you stand there with an inch of the bag remaining in your hand.
Guess the kitchen wanted a pre-spring cleaning anyway. Oy.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Snowshoeing!
I got to try snowshoeing for the first time the weekend after New Year's. I went with with Miss Danielle and Miss Karin (her first time, too). Mommy asked me the other day where the pictures were...voilà!
I had a ball and was actually not too bad at staying vertical. Just to keep it real, though, and in the continuing tradition of all my Idaho outdoor activities to date, I fell on some ice and got a lovely bruise on one knee. It was, however, smaller than the previous two bruises from tubing the Boise River, so whoo hoo!
Karin, Kathie, Danielle. (Yes, Karin and Kathie work much better with poles as they snowshoe. Danielle has had years of ballet training; even when she would lose her balance for an instant, watching her regain it was a moment of graceful beauty...sheesh!)
How fun is it to have a friend who has the grace, gentle sweetness, and lithe build of Audrey Hepburn? I told Danielle one day that's who she reminds me of; she got all shy and giggled, just like I bet Audrey would :)
We hiked on Deer Creek Road, off Highway 21, on the way to Idaho City. The snow was a little crunchy by then, but it was such a gorgeous day to be outside!
I had a ball and was actually not too bad at staying vertical. Just to keep it real, though, and in the continuing tradition of all my Idaho outdoor activities to date, I fell on some ice and got a lovely bruise on one knee. It was, however, smaller than the previous two bruises from tubing the Boise River, so whoo hoo!
Friday, January 23, 2009
Gratitude Update
Just in case I wasn't grateful enough for where God let the car conk out...
The mechanic called with an update and an estimate. They checked to see if they could just replace the outer part of the tie rod. Turns out the nut that should have been flush to the wheel was loose, allowing the rod to vibrate, so both the inner and outer threads were completely wiped out, and rusted. The right side tie rod and wheel are nice and tight, fortunately.
After telling Henry the history of the car, he's quite confident that the nut wasn't tightened well after I had new shocks and struts put back in a second time in early 2006 by a place in Redlands (a convenient place near my old office). They were put in a second time because the first time they did it, they used the wrong size struts and stretched my brake lines like violin strings over them. About five days after the work, after a couple trips up and down the hill and around the mountain, my brakes went completely out...blessedly and amazingly in my boss's driveway after a very late night drive home from Ontario Airport. That was car Miracle Number One after the shoddy work; my own mechanic in Lake Arrowhead was furious when he figured out what had happened at this other place down the hill, made it a point to tell me how incredibly fortunate I was, and told me to go confront the other guys and have them redo the work with the right parts. And, specifically, tell them from him, "They're lukcy they're not paying your funeral costs."
After having them fix it, Miracle Number Two happened today, in my mechanic's driveway. And this very kind, diligent mechanic, when he called with the update, said specifically, "I still can't believe this happened where it did, right here. If you had been on the freeway, Kathie, I can't even...I just...I don't even want to tell you."
I can't help but think that not only was I safe, but a passenger each time was safe, and other people on the road weren't hurt by a fast-moving car that suddenly could not steer.
I drove the loaner car home very carefully tonight. It's been a full week of being reminded that human control over our world is a fallacy in so many ways. I can drive slowly and have my car checked and eat my oragnic vegetables and take my vitamins and make my mortgage payment and go to work and get on airplanes that are safer than cars on highways...it's not my story to call. So glad I know the Author personally :) No matter how the story goes, I know His heart is pure love and goodness.
The mechanic called with an update and an estimate. They checked to see if they could just replace the outer part of the tie rod. Turns out the nut that should have been flush to the wheel was loose, allowing the rod to vibrate, so both the inner and outer threads were completely wiped out, and rusted. The right side tie rod and wheel are nice and tight, fortunately.
After telling Henry the history of the car, he's quite confident that the nut wasn't tightened well after I had new shocks and struts put back in a second time in early 2006 by a place in Redlands (a convenient place near my old office). They were put in a second time because the first time they did it, they used the wrong size struts and stretched my brake lines like violin strings over them. About five days after the work, after a couple trips up and down the hill and around the mountain, my brakes went completely out...blessedly and amazingly in my boss's driveway after a very late night drive home from Ontario Airport. That was car Miracle Number One after the shoddy work; my own mechanic in Lake Arrowhead was furious when he figured out what had happened at this other place down the hill, made it a point to tell me how incredibly fortunate I was, and told me to go confront the other guys and have them redo the work with the right parts. And, specifically, tell them from him, "They're lukcy they're not paying your funeral costs."
After having them fix it, Miracle Number Two happened today, in my mechanic's driveway. And this very kind, diligent mechanic, when he called with the update, said specifically, "I still can't believe this happened where it did, right here. If you had been on the freeway, Kathie, I can't even...I just...I don't even want to tell you."
I can't help but think that not only was I safe, but a passenger each time was safe, and other people on the road weren't hurt by a fast-moving car that suddenly could not steer.
I drove the loaner car home very carefully tonight. It's been a full week of being reminded that human control over our world is a fallacy in so many ways. I can drive slowly and have my car checked and eat my oragnic vegetables and take my vitamins and make my mortgage payment and go to work and get on airplanes that are safer than cars on highways...it's not my story to call. So glad I know the Author personally :) No matter how the story goes, I know His heart is pure love and goodness.
POP! "Danielle, what was that?"
You know how in the movie Cars the automobiles are animated to look all personified and human-like? Oh, Lightning McQueen's headlight stickers are positioned to make him look kinda arrogant; Doc Hudson's grill is twisted to make him look gruff and grumpy.
I am pretty sure there is some moment where Sally, the cute little blue Porsche, defies what cars normally really do and turns her front wheels inward toward one another to give her the appearance of being shy and embarrassed.
Kinda like this:
This is my pigeon-toed little RAV4 this morning. And several people have told me that God must love me, because I am still here.
Before work, I went to pick up Danielle at the auto repair shop near our office. She was dropping her car off for some maintenance, and we had it all arranged so we could arrive back at the office in time for chapel. The guys who own the shop are fantastic, fair, and kind, so when I arrived, Danielle was already inside, and I ran in to say hello. Danielle and I headed out to my car and I backed out of the parking space.
As I started to turn and pull forward, there was a very loud "POP!" I looked at Danielle and said, "Well, that's weird." I tried to drive forward and couldn't. I could back up, kind of bumpy like, but not go forward. We got out of the car and the first thing I saw was the front left tire turned way in to the right...I peeked at my steering wheel, which was NOT turned right; it was set a little left.
Then I walked around to the front and gasped. "Danielle! Something's definitely not right! My car is pigeon-toed!" I ran inside the shop office, cracking up. Henry and Martin looked at me from the shop floor, heads cocked a little. "Guys, something is DEFINITELY not right with my car!"
They came running right out and gasped, too. That would be a broken tie rod on the driver's side, kids. And an immediate pronouncement from both Henry and Martin about how blessed I was to not be trucking down the snowy roads this morning when it decided to break. I was in complete slow motion in the auto repair shop driveway when it happened.
It's fun; all the guys I show the picture to here at work gasp, too. And tell me how lucky I was not to be on the road when it happened.
Henry and Martin immediately offered me a free loaner car they have and made sure I would keep it all weekend since they probably can't get my car done today. Henry even offered to write a note if Danielle and I needed to explain our tardy chapel arrival and Martin cleared the snow off the car and got it all warmed up for us :)
I didn't exactly have cash sitting around for what is not an insignificant repair, but Danielle and I didn't care...we praised God all the way back to work for keeping us safe.
Feeling blessed and loved today? I am!
I am pretty sure there is some moment where Sally, the cute little blue Porsche, defies what cars normally really do and turns her front wheels inward toward one another to give her the appearance of being shy and embarrassed.
Kinda like this:
This is my pigeon-toed little RAV4 this morning. And several people have told me that God must love me, because I am still here.
Before work, I went to pick up Danielle at the auto repair shop near our office. She was dropping her car off for some maintenance, and we had it all arranged so we could arrive back at the office in time for chapel. The guys who own the shop are fantastic, fair, and kind, so when I arrived, Danielle was already inside, and I ran in to say hello. Danielle and I headed out to my car and I backed out of the parking space.
As I started to turn and pull forward, there was a very loud "POP!" I looked at Danielle and said, "Well, that's weird." I tried to drive forward and couldn't. I could back up, kind of bumpy like, but not go forward. We got out of the car and the first thing I saw was the front left tire turned way in to the right...I peeked at my steering wheel, which was NOT turned right; it was set a little left.
Then I walked around to the front and gasped. "Danielle! Something's definitely not right! My car is pigeon-toed!" I ran inside the shop office, cracking up. Henry and Martin looked at me from the shop floor, heads cocked a little. "Guys, something is DEFINITELY not right with my car!"
They came running right out and gasped, too. That would be a broken tie rod on the driver's side, kids. And an immediate pronouncement from both Henry and Martin about how blessed I was to not be trucking down the snowy roads this morning when it decided to break. I was in complete slow motion in the auto repair shop driveway when it happened.
It's fun; all the guys I show the picture to here at work gasp, too. And tell me how lucky I was not to be on the road when it happened.
Henry and Martin immediately offered me a free loaner car they have and made sure I would keep it all weekend since they probably can't get my car done today. Henry even offered to write a note if Danielle and I needed to explain our tardy chapel arrival and Martin cleared the snow off the car and got it all warmed up for us :)
I didn't exactly have cash sitting around for what is not an insignificant repair, but Danielle and I didn't care...we praised God all the way back to work for keeping us safe.
Feeling blessed and loved today? I am!
Things That Appear in Bold Print
Don't you just love when you read something and parts of it leap off the page like they are in bold print, just for you? I read some Brennan Manning last night, and amidst the pleadings in this prayer, there were some that came neon-flashing off the page for me. Maybe there is something for you, too?
Even if not, I share anyway :) Plus, there is something therapeutic about typing things out for yourself...
Even if not, I share anyway :) Plus, there is something therapeutic about typing things out for yourself...
True Poverty
Jesus, my Brother and Lord, I pray as I write these words for the grace to be truly poor before you, to recognize and accept my weakness and humanness, to forgo the indecent luxury of self-hatred, to celebrate your mercy and trust in your power when I am at my weakest, to rely on your love no matter what I may do, to seek no escapes from my innate poverty, to accept loneliness when it comes instead of seeking substitutes, to live peacefully without clarity or assurance, to stop grandstanding and trying to get attention, to do the truth quietly without display, to let the dishonesties in my life fade away, to belong no more to myself, not to desert my post when I give the appearance of staying at it, to cling to my humanity, to accept the limitations and full responsibility of being a human being--really human and really poor in Christ our Lord.
The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;
it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD
Lamentations 3:25-26
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Waves Over My Heart
New blog skin for where my heart is today and has been for over a week in some sense. Plus, Christmas is put away for now. I can't have Christmas ornaments on my blog in January...
I am getting some new waves over my heart from God. I want some new waves. But the ones that have come lately didn't come cheap. They have come at a dear cost. I can't even enumerate or capture everything yet, and I may not be able or want to, but I feel a need to start somewhere.
Last weekend was one of the most heartbreaking and most beautiful of my life. My Saturday and Sunday were so different from one another in some ways, but God's presence in each day and each moment was so tender and so palpable. Honestly, I just kinda can't get over being amazed by it.
Saturday, at Lara and Marshall's request, I spoke at Timmy's memorial service. I told Lara and Marshall that they hold the distinction of giving me the most difficult honor I have ever had. I am still a little speechless inside at the gift of being able to recollect and share about the darling boy God created in Timmy and the, the...the... see? I can't even find a name for it...the way God's truth and love and grief and honesty and pain and beauty have poured forth out of Timmy's mama and daddy and family and friends.
Sunday, I gave the morning message at a church in Arcadia, sharing about MAF and missions. The congregation there is kind and generous and loving, and there was much laughter and joy. The prayer before the service with the pastor and the choir, including my wonderful Uncle Chris, was filled with laughter and praise. By the time I went to the front to speak, I was speechless. I was overwhelmed by how present and tender and faithful God was in each of these days, so very different from one another. I had to pause before I spoke, and in a choked voice, explain why I was so emotional before even saying, "Good morning". He is in every moment, every tear and every celebration. And He is good in every one. Every single one.
I was so full of awe and joy inside, I almost said, "Can I get an, 'Amen!'?" But I don't think they do that in Presbyterian churches...
This past week and the present one have been filled with reminders of God's sovereignty, which I actually used to balk at more. Somehow, talking about His sovereignty always seemed a poking reminder of my inadequacy and inability to make the right choices and run my own life well. I wanted to run it well and for His honor, for Pete's sake...shouldn't that count for something? I just wanted to run it and not need much help, by golly.
Now, reminders of His sovereignty are deeply comforting, so reassuring. He is the one unchangeable, the one constant. I love it. Our hearts are, my heart is, so fragile. Proverbs 18:10 is in my head:
The name of the LORD is a strong tower;
the righteous run to it and are safe.
I need strength. I don't have my own. I don't want my own anymore. I want His, His, His.
I am getting some new waves over my heart from God. I want some new waves. But the ones that have come lately didn't come cheap. They have come at a dear cost. I can't even enumerate or capture everything yet, and I may not be able or want to, but I feel a need to start somewhere.
Last weekend was one of the most heartbreaking and most beautiful of my life. My Saturday and Sunday were so different from one another in some ways, but God's presence in each day and each moment was so tender and so palpable. Honestly, I just kinda can't get over being amazed by it.
Saturday, at Lara and Marshall's request, I spoke at Timmy's memorial service. I told Lara and Marshall that they hold the distinction of giving me the most difficult honor I have ever had. I am still a little speechless inside at the gift of being able to recollect and share about the darling boy God created in Timmy and the, the...the... see? I can't even find a name for it...the way God's truth and love and grief and honesty and pain and beauty have poured forth out of Timmy's mama and daddy and family and friends.
Sunday, I gave the morning message at a church in Arcadia, sharing about MAF and missions. The congregation there is kind and generous and loving, and there was much laughter and joy. The prayer before the service with the pastor and the choir, including my wonderful Uncle Chris, was filled with laughter and praise. By the time I went to the front to speak, I was speechless. I was overwhelmed by how present and tender and faithful God was in each of these days, so very different from one another. I had to pause before I spoke, and in a choked voice, explain why I was so emotional before even saying, "Good morning". He is in every moment, every tear and every celebration. And He is good in every one. Every single one.
I was so full of awe and joy inside, I almost said, "Can I get an, 'Amen!'?" But I don't think they do that in Presbyterian churches...
This past week and the present one have been filled with reminders of God's sovereignty, which I actually used to balk at more. Somehow, talking about His sovereignty always seemed a poking reminder of my inadequacy and inability to make the right choices and run my own life well. I wanted to run it well and for His honor, for Pete's sake...shouldn't that count for something? I just wanted to run it and not need much help, by golly.
Now, reminders of His sovereignty are deeply comforting, so reassuring. He is the one unchangeable, the one constant. I love it. Our hearts are, my heart is, so fragile. Proverbs 18:10 is in my head:
The name of the LORD is a strong tower;
the righteous run to it and are safe.
I need strength. I don't have my own. I don't want my own anymore. I want His, His, His.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Be careful...
if you're the kind of person who, when puttin' on yer pants, yanks their jeans up for that final, "Urg!" yank by the belt loops. You could find yourself in an airport bathroom (ready to fly out, not having just arrived home) hearing that "only ripping fabric makes that kinda noise" sound, and have a belt loop and the fabric it's attached to above your back pocket come swinging free, revealing a pleasant view to whatever yer wearin' underneath. "God bless my underwear..."
Thank heaven I am wearing an untucked shirt today and a zip-up hoodie...both are long enough to cover the tragedy and I can use the hood to cowl my face if necessary.
Good thing this layover is in Vegas. No one will even notice. They'll think I am a showgirl. Especially if I had snatched a couple of feathers from the little birdies that were sipping from the drinking fountain across from my gate at the Boise airport. Little birdies love to hang out inside airports :)
Thank heaven I am wearing an untucked shirt today and a zip-up hoodie...both are long enough to cover the tragedy and I can use the hood to cowl my face if necessary.
Good thing this layover is in Vegas. No one will even notice. They'll think I am a showgirl. Especially if I had snatched a couple of feathers from the little birdies that were sipping from the drinking fountain across from my gate at the Boise airport. Little birdies love to hang out inside airports :)
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Six Years Today
Amazing. It's six years today since my first day with MAF. Within three months they sent me to Russia and Kazakhstan, and the crazy list of places I have been, things I have eaten, churches I have worshiped in, people I have met, and ways I have seen God work was launched.
As I ran down a hallway here at headquarters today to have a discussion about the role Learning Technologies might play in the job of a new family to MAF who are headed overseas to actually fill a different role, but heard about LT providing training for pastors and got very excited at the thought of having a part in it, I literally said aloud, "I have the weirdest job on the planet." My boss is on his way to England and Turkey, and here I am discussing some of his communication from a phone call and my input from meetings to help a committee make a decision about this family's life. Good heavens.
And then I get weepy. I think about the people I have met who live in places where staying fed is a struggle, staying warm is a luxury, and staying safe is a daily tightrope walk. Even when I am not traveling, I meet people who come through the doors at headquarters who live extraordinary lives of sacrifice, both here and abroad, and others who are getting their first safe start here in America. And those who are here for a time then headed back to walk lonely trails to remote villages so people might know that a man who was the incarnation of the very God who created them died on a cross and rose from the dead so they might live forever with him. They are deeply loved and they have been rescued. There is good news.
And God uses silly, easily distracted, sometimes too serious, sometimes not serious enough, not as smart as the next guy, me. He is so gracious to let me tag along to where he goes and where he sends. Thank you, Father. An unexpected life, indeed. Please cause me to live it well.
As I ran down a hallway here at headquarters today to have a discussion about the role Learning Technologies might play in the job of a new family to MAF who are headed overseas to actually fill a different role, but heard about LT providing training for pastors and got very excited at the thought of having a part in it, I literally said aloud, "I have the weirdest job on the planet." My boss is on his way to England and Turkey, and here I am discussing some of his communication from a phone call and my input from meetings to help a committee make a decision about this family's life. Good heavens.
And then I get weepy. I think about the people I have met who live in places where staying fed is a struggle, staying warm is a luxury, and staying safe is a daily tightrope walk. Even when I am not traveling, I meet people who come through the doors at headquarters who live extraordinary lives of sacrifice, both here and abroad, and others who are getting their first safe start here in America. And those who are here for a time then headed back to walk lonely trails to remote villages so people might know that a man who was the incarnation of the very God who created them died on a cross and rose from the dead so they might live forever with him. They are deeply loved and they have been rescued. There is good news.
And God uses silly, easily distracted, sometimes too serious, sometimes not serious enough, not as smart as the next guy, me. He is so gracious to let me tag along to where he goes and where he sends. Thank you, Father. An unexpected life, indeed. Please cause me to live it well.
Monday, January 12, 2009
There oughta be a website...
where you can pre-screen the food combinations you might put together before you actually consume them. Remember the unsuccessful ham-stacky-thingy-ma-doodles from 2007? I may have discovered tonight that ham is the enemy in any combo besides swiss cheese and fresh bread for a tasty sandwich. Oh, and my choice of eating trough may have contributed to the error tonight.
To start with, I have lots of lettuce to eat before my next trip. Lots. Last week, Fred Meyer had bags of salad on sale, 5 bags for $5. I had guests for dinner one night and I think we ate 1/2 - 3/4 of a bag. You can do the math about what's left for just little ol' me.
I decided tonight that I needed to get a move on with the remaining lettuce so it all gets consumed before I leave. And there's ham, too. So, chef salad seemed the natural order of the evening! Turned out all I really had around to put in the salad that was interesting to me tonight was shredded cheddar cheese and ham. And I wanted to eat LOTS of lettuce, so I used a mixing bowl instead of a plate for making my salad. And then it needed something crunchy...hmmm...crunchy. Pantry scan, pantry scan...no croutons, no really crunchy nuts...oh, wait! Peanuts! I have dry roasted peanuts in here!
Um, I don't think peanuts and ham were meant to be friends. But I didn't figure it out until I was near the end of the salad the size of a Crate and Barrel mixing bowl. And then, well, you're near the end...you might as well finish it up and be done with it, ya know?
Mistake. Kathie deeply unwell. Sitting very still for one hour on couch. No moving, please.
And no more making dinner to eat out of a mixing bowl. Bad idea. Mixing bowls are for mixing, not for eating out of. Unless they are full of cookie dough.
Oooohhh! Mmmmm...cookie dough...
No, no. Still too much misery. Must wait.
To start with, I have lots of lettuce to eat before my next trip. Lots. Last week, Fred Meyer had bags of salad on sale, 5 bags for $5. I had guests for dinner one night and I think we ate 1/2 - 3/4 of a bag. You can do the math about what's left for just little ol' me.
I decided tonight that I needed to get a move on with the remaining lettuce so it all gets consumed before I leave. And there's ham, too. So, chef salad seemed the natural order of the evening! Turned out all I really had around to put in the salad that was interesting to me tonight was shredded cheddar cheese and ham. And I wanted to eat LOTS of lettuce, so I used a mixing bowl instead of a plate for making my salad. And then it needed something crunchy...hmmm...crunchy. Pantry scan, pantry scan...no croutons, no really crunchy nuts...oh, wait! Peanuts! I have dry roasted peanuts in here!
Um, I don't think peanuts and ham were meant to be friends. But I didn't figure it out until I was near the end of the salad the size of a Crate and Barrel mixing bowl. And then, well, you're near the end...you might as well finish it up and be done with it, ya know?
Mistake. Kathie deeply unwell. Sitting very still for one hour on couch. No moving, please.
And no more making dinner to eat out of a mixing bowl. Bad idea. Mixing bowls are for mixing, not for eating out of. Unless they are full of cookie dough.
Oooohhh! Mmmmm...cookie dough...
No, no. Still too much misery. Must wait.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
They Walked Him Home
Marshall and Lara said goodbye to Timmy yesterday until they see him again in the arms of Christ. If you want to know what a tiny angel looks like, explore their blog a little and see the kind of love Timmy engendered around him in less than two years on this earth.
If you want to see two bigger angels, take a look at Lara and Marshall. The love and support they created around Timmy through an incredibly difficult illness is extraordinary beauty in the midst of some of the deepest pain I think we can know on earth. When Timmy was diagnosed with Leigh Syndrome, Marshall and Lara said that from day one as Timmy's parents their highest calling was to make sure their son knew Christ, whether that was to introduce him to the knowledge of his Savior when we was older or to love him well until Jesus came to take him home. Jesus came yesterday at 3:00 PM, and Timmy's parents and nurses walked him tenderly to the healing embrace of his Heavenly Father.
I am grateful beyond words for the five or so hours I got to spend with the three of them the Tuesday after Christmas, reading Timmy an alphabet book his mama made just for him with pictures of his daddy and lots of other family, smooching his face, laughing at music that only Marshall would know how to find, eating Lara's delicious spaghetti, and listening to Marshall and Lara's hearts (and them listening to me plenty, too, patient people they are!).
God, thank you for the reality of your grace and the promises of restoration. Thank you that Timmy is energized and whole and that you will be nearer to Marshall and Lara than I could ever imagine. Tonight, with my tears, I give you my precious friends.
If you want to see two bigger angels, take a look at Lara and Marshall. The love and support they created around Timmy through an incredibly difficult illness is extraordinary beauty in the midst of some of the deepest pain I think we can know on earth. When Timmy was diagnosed with Leigh Syndrome, Marshall and Lara said that from day one as Timmy's parents their highest calling was to make sure their son knew Christ, whether that was to introduce him to the knowledge of his Savior when we was older or to love him well until Jesus came to take him home. Jesus came yesterday at 3:00 PM, and Timmy's parents and nurses walked him tenderly to the healing embrace of his Heavenly Father.
I am grateful beyond words for the five or so hours I got to spend with the three of them the Tuesday after Christmas, reading Timmy an alphabet book his mama made just for him with pictures of his daddy and lots of other family, smooching his face, laughing at music that only Marshall would know how to find, eating Lara's delicious spaghetti, and listening to Marshall and Lara's hearts (and them listening to me plenty, too, patient people they are!).
God, thank you for the reality of your grace and the promises of restoration. Thank you that Timmy is energized and whole and that you will be nearer to Marshall and Lara than I could ever imagine. Tonight, with my tears, I give you my precious friends.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
S'more pain, please!
Joy: The sleek, newly installed microwave got christened with a marshmallow and a graham cracker to make a s'more. Happy, happy food.
Pain: The meeting I was in at work, approximately 90 minutes after the installation, where the five men I was sitting with all said they would have been more than happy to install the microwave for me, saving me the $150 installation fee. It started with me mentioning that I had just arrived back in the office after being home to meet the installer.
Bill: "Oh, yeah, I just installed one of those."
Kathie: "One of those? As in an over-the-range microwave?"
Bill: "Yeah, for our daughter in California while we were there for Christmas."
Tom: Pointing at the housing units for visiting staff across the street, "You know how many of those things I put in over there?"
Mike: "Yeah, we could have created the space for you to have it put in, cabinets, erveything."
Kathie: "There already was a space."
Mike: "You mean you were just replacing one? Not adding a new one?"
Darryl: "That means it would have been really simple; the hardware was already there."
Kathie: "Well, um, he drilled some additional holes in the cabinet above..."
Bill: "It probably came with a cabinet install template."
Kathie: Voice rising, "There's this thing on my kitchen counter right now that says, 'Upper-cabinet template'!!!"
Tom: "Kathie, you have brothers here that you need to ask for help when you need it."
Kathie barely refrains from slamming head on table, blurts out, "Crap," instead (yes, in a meeting where I work), and wants to vomit.
I did ask for help for the garage door opener installation. Actually, I asked for Dave to look at the broken one. When he saw the condition of the gears, he offered to install the new one.
This microwave has a vent and a fan and a light and stuff...I wouldn't know what to do, so I don't even know how to ask help for what I don't know how to do. Uggghhh! Grrrrr! Arrrrggghhhh!
This post and the microwave shall serve as my $150 reminder TO ASK FOR HELP. I missed a chance to be a better steward with my money; one of my brothers missed a chance to bless me; I missed a chance to be blessed.
As Lara so beautifully said a couple of weeks ago, "I am learning to be imperfect." Amen, sister, amen.
Pain: The meeting I was in at work, approximately 90 minutes after the installation, where the five men I was sitting with all said they would have been more than happy to install the microwave for me, saving me the $150 installation fee. It started with me mentioning that I had just arrived back in the office after being home to meet the installer.
Bill: "Oh, yeah, I just installed one of those."
Kathie: "One of those? As in an over-the-range microwave?"
Bill: "Yeah, for our daughter in California while we were there for Christmas."
Tom: Pointing at the housing units for visiting staff across the street, "You know how many of those things I put in over there?"
Mike: "Yeah, we could have created the space for you to have it put in, cabinets, erveything."
Kathie: "There already was a space."
Mike: "You mean you were just replacing one? Not adding a new one?"
Darryl: "That means it would have been really simple; the hardware was already there."
Kathie: "Well, um, he drilled some additional holes in the cabinet above..."
Bill: "It probably came with a cabinet install template."
Kathie: Voice rising, "There's this thing on my kitchen counter right now that says, 'Upper-cabinet template'!!!"
Tom: "Kathie, you have brothers here that you need to ask for help when you need it."
Kathie barely refrains from slamming head on table, blurts out, "Crap," instead (yes, in a meeting where I work), and wants to vomit.
I did ask for help for the garage door opener installation. Actually, I asked for Dave to look at the broken one. When he saw the condition of the gears, he offered to install the new one.
This microwave has a vent and a fan and a light and stuff...I wouldn't know what to do, so I don't even know how to ask help for what I don't know how to do. Uggghhh! Grrrrr! Arrrrggghhhh!
This post and the microwave shall serve as my $150 reminder TO ASK FOR HELP. I missed a chance to be a better steward with my money; one of my brothers missed a chance to bless me; I missed a chance to be blessed.
As Lara so beautifully said a couple of weeks ago, "I am learning to be imperfect." Amen, sister, amen.
Ramen, Popcorn, What?
The new microwave is being installed this afternoon. Above-range-microwave = installation. Ouch. Thank you, Sears...
What do I nuke first? Cast your vote, people...
What do I nuke first? Cast your vote, people...
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Not Refusing and Not Rushing
From Brennan Manning's Reflections for Ragamuffins this morning:
I want to be the kind of person who embraces growth and loves the opportunity. I am in theory; in practicality, I much prefer being told I am already brilliant and doing things perfectly. Sigh... I have discovered that the real connotation of "growth" in my head means I am not measuring up and that I have dangerous, humiliating deficits. Not exactly great soil for allowing God to bring beautiful change. And I still have a little of the old, "I'll get it right then show you how well I can do, Lord." lingering around. You know, the idea that I can just "gut out" the tough moments and work really hard to bring about change. What hooey. I have no guts!
That's been one of the most wonderful things to accept--I have no guts. I have nothing naturally existing in me that can be brave and muscle myself any nearer to the greater heart, the deeper compassion, the longer patience, and the better service I want in my life. Nope--no guts.
But I have the Holy Spirit. And He that lives in me will keep a watch on the cloud and fire and will know which way to go, will give strength and wisdom and love for the journey and change, and make it possible to be brave in the unknown.
Lord, may it be so.
The Challenge to Grow
When God introduces creative tension into our lives by calling us to break camp, abandon the security and comfort of the status quo, and embark in perilous freedom on a new exodus, our insecurity and procrastination may focus only on the darker implications of the challenge and plunge us anew into unhealthy guilt. Stubbornly to stand still when the Lord is clearly challenging us to growth is hardheartedness, infidelity, and a dangerous lack of trust. But to start trekking across the desert impulsively without the guidance of the cloud and the fire is reckless folly. When God's call is not clarified and the inner voice remains indistinct, our restlessness and interior disquiet may be signaling a new exodus into greater openness, vulnerability, and compassion, a deeper purity of heart, a transformed mind and spirit. The landscape of the American church is littered with burned-out bodies and abortive ministries born of unhealthy guilt and fear of resisiting God's will.
Who will acquit us from guilt? Who will free us from the bondage of projectionsim, perfectionism, and moralism? Who will rewrite the script? Thanks be to God for Jesus Christ our Lord!
When you see the ark of the covenant of the LORD your God, and the priests, who are Levites, carrying it, you are to move out from your positions and follow it. Then you will know which way to go, since you have never been this way before.
Joshua 3:3-4
I want to be the kind of person who embraces growth and loves the opportunity. I am in theory; in practicality, I much prefer being told I am already brilliant and doing things perfectly. Sigh... I have discovered that the real connotation of "growth" in my head means I am not measuring up and that I have dangerous, humiliating deficits. Not exactly great soil for allowing God to bring beautiful change. And I still have a little of the old, "I'll get it right then show you how well I can do, Lord." lingering around. You know, the idea that I can just "gut out" the tough moments and work really hard to bring about change. What hooey. I have no guts!
That's been one of the most wonderful things to accept--I have no guts. I have nothing naturally existing in me that can be brave and muscle myself any nearer to the greater heart, the deeper compassion, the longer patience, and the better service I want in my life. Nope--no guts.
But I have the Holy Spirit. And He that lives in me will keep a watch on the cloud and fire and will know which way to go, will give strength and wisdom and love for the journey and change, and make it possible to be brave in the unknown.
Lord, may it be so.
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