"Under the Overpass"

Okay, I can't stay quiet about it anymore! I was going to wait til I'd read the whole book, but I'm not going to. (I must be tired or frazzled; I just had to go back and correct two grammar errors in one sentence!)

I've been reading this really good book called Under the Overpass, a journey of faith on America's streets. It's by Mike Yankoski. He undertook a strange mission when he was a sophomore in college. After hearing a sermon about being a real Christian, he felt led to become homeless for a time. He found a companion, Sam, to go with him, and a board of advisers to keep him in touch with reality and set out with 3 objectives:
1) To better understand the life of the homeless in America and to see firsthand how the church is responding to their needs.
2) To encourage others to "live out loud" for Christ in whatever ways God is asking them to.
3) To learn personally what it means to depend on Christ for daily physical needs and to experience contentment and confidence in Him. (page 19)

It's an easy-to-read narrative of his thoughts and experiences on this six-month journey. I have been impressed. It's made me think of things I never had, taught me new things about life, and about God, and it's challenged me.
I love reading and over the years I've read a lot of nonfiction, because I like it a lot. This may be my new favorite (aside from a handful of Lewis' books, which are in their own category). Buy it. I'll buy it for you if you ask me to. I've learned so many things. Tonight's reading has been the best yet, because they've been talking about their experience with churches. I can't explain what I'd like to, so I'm just going to put in an excerpt from the book which you can read if you'd like. I hope I'm not infringing on anyone's copyrights.
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After addressing a broken flip-flop and semi-serious injury to his foot, Mike talks about his visit to a church (p 147):
Conversations at the front door stopped as we walked up. I had to ask for a church bulletin from the girl who was handing them out. She looked at us as if we had just escaped from a wildlife preserve. but we headed inside for the service anyway and found an empty pew three feet from the front. Thewhole room couldn't hold more than a hundred, so our chances of going unnoticed were not good.
WE still had a few minutes before the service began, and Sam had an idea. "I'm going to ask the pastor if he can help us out with some food. My stomach is growling." he got up and walked away, but was back shortly, looking disgusted.
"You won't believe what just happened," he said. "So I went and asked for the pastor. He was standing in the back, getting some coffee. I asked him if he could help us out, if he could hook us up with someone who could feed us. I told him we didn't have any money, that the panhandling here was bad."
Same paused and shook his head. "You know what he said? He said, 'That's not what we do here. We're here to worship. We can't confuse our purpose.'"
"Wow...," I said, slowly.
... [after the service] While people filed out, Sam and I kept our seats, journaling and trying to capture the moment and our frustrations.
After a few minutes, three guys came through the pews to talk. "Hey guys, I'm Drew," one guy said, extending his hand. We introduced ourselves and told them we were living on the streets. after that, the talk rambled around general topics. When I could see the conversation was going nowhere, I decided to try an experiment. (I'll admit my reaction was a little harsh, and done out of frustration, but still...)
I set my backpack on the pew between us. Then I reached down and grabbed my broke flip-flop and set it atop the pack. some of the blood was still wet, but most of it had dried, caking the sandal in a dull brown.
"Man, look at all that blood," I said, looking to Sam and pointing to my sandal.
"Bro, does that hurt?" Sam asked, catching onto my experiment.
"A little," I said, reaching for my bag. "It's because my flip-flop is broken. You see?" I said, looking up at the guys and pulling on the broken tongue of the flip flop.
They nodded by said nothing. I pulled out the dwindling roll of duct tape and ripped off a long piece--a really long piece, stretching it loudly across in front of me the full length of my arms.
... When I finished [the long process of fixing my flip flop], I dropped the sandal and slipped my foot into it. "Well done!" Sam said.
Drew agreed. "Quite a process!" he said.
"Yep," I agreed and waited.
"Well," Drew said, looking around, "we've got to take off, but it was a pleasure talking with you." He squeezed my shoulder as he left. "I'm praying for you," he said. "You too," he said to Sam. And the three walked away.
Shocked, Sam and I carried our packs and guitars out into the bright, sunny Berkely day. As we walked toward People's Park, I broke our silence with a question.
"Why do we so often overlook obvious ways to show the love of God we so loudly proclaim?" Without waiting for an answer, I charged on. "If someone's thirsty, give them a drink! If someone's hungry, feed them! I mean, this is not complicated stuff."
Sam agreed. "Who is to show the world Christ's love if not the church?"
"No one," I said definitively. Then I stopped and looked directly at Sam, who had also stopped. "Do you feel loved?"
"Nope."
"Do you feel fed?"
"Nope. I'm starving. What about you?'
"I'm starving and my feet hurt, and that guy back there knows it. but hey, he's praying for us."

Taken from "Under the Overpass" copyright 2005 Mike Yankoski III Multnomah Books
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The rest of the chapter has an incredible story about some other people they met, but you'll just have to read it to get the good news part. the story convicted me, because I bet those guys who stopped and talked to them thought they were doing a good thing. I guess they were, but, at the same time, there was more that they could do. I don't want to be a person who says "I'll pray for you" when there are obvious needs that I could meet. I want to be generous and loving and genuinely care. That chapter, by the way, begins with a quote from A.W. Tozer in Of God and Men: "It is much easier to pray that a poor friend's needs may be supplied than to supply them."

Joshua and the Tent of Meeting

Exodus 33:11 The LORD would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend. Then Moses would return to the camp, but his young aide Joshua son of Nun did not leave the tent.

I ran across this verse while preparing devotionals for theatrical camp earlier this summer. It stuck out to me, amidst all of the strange tales of God's wrath and rules, and the wonders He preformed. People didn't know God back then like we know Him now. In fact, He'd been kind of quiet for a long time before Moses arrived on the scene. His people (the Israelite) had to rely on Moses to connect them to Him, and He often seemed unapproachable and uncaring. That's another topic. This verse I found is from a section where they talk about how Moses set up a tent to meet God in, and how the Israelites had to stay away because God's glory was too much for them to handle. And yet, there's this kid, Moses' young aide who couldn't get enough of it. He was privileged anyway, to be able to go into that tent with Moses. And then he just wanted to stay.

I remember a time when I felt I couldn't get enough of God's presence. I was young and impressionable. Maybe I was passionate, it's hard to say, because it seems so long ago and so misguided now. If you know my story, you might know how changing churches caused a crisis of belief, and, I think, in the end, a little bit of hardening in my heart. I love God so much, and I want to please Him and serve Him, and I do what I can to glorify Him, but alas, I do not linger in the tent. I rush through my prayers and Bible-reading, hoping for a quick answer, praying because I think I should and then hurrying off into my chaotic day.

We can speak with God face-to-face, unlike the Israelites, but often I just approach my relationship with Him as if I can't. I list off my concerns and do my duty, and hurry away, hoping that He'll tag along with me for the day. I read that verse and realized how much I want to savor His presence in my life again. How much I want to be like Joshua.

Old Friends

When Daniel and I first met, we realized how many mutual friends we had at church. I guess our compatible personalities made way for that (and the fact that all of his friends were girls). The connections went deeper than we knew, however. The people Daniel had hung out with in grade school had been in my Sunday school class all those years ago. A few of the connections got rekindled, since I was still in contact with a couple of the kids that we'd both known.
One person in particular, happened to be a pretty good friend to both of us. We called her Rory. Her family lived in the "missionary house" next to Daniel's parents house, so he'd known her for years. I'd known her since first grade. I think we became official friends at a sleepover/lock in in the forth grade when we stayed up "all night" watching McGee and Me and telling stupid jokes. Ahh, those were good times.
Rory usually lived in Africa, so she was only home every four years. But they were great years when she was home.
This week we got to see Rory again, after eight years. (She had attended our wedding and that was the last we saw of her). She was just as enjoyable now. Probably more so.
It's so refreshing to meet up with an old friend and discover that some things just don't change. Through the years, so many of my friends have changed drastically. They've grown up and thought through their opinions about things, and oftentimes, we've ended up not agreeing anymore, and not really having a lot in common. Some of my closes friends have parted ways with me, and I hate it. I don't hate them or their opinions. I just hate that we aren't as good of friends or friends at all.
A long time ago, Rory's dad told me that he loved living in Africa because you could get used to one way of living, and then it never changed. I would have liked that to be my life, but it hasn't. But at least some things haven't. Rory's great personality and sense of humor and ability to relate with me and Daniel hasn't changed.
[editor's note: I told Rory that I was going to find some old photos and post them, but lucky for her, I didn't feel like digging through old boxes and finding those photos, so... maybe next time].

Party Curse

[Warning: pity party ahead]
I have a party curse.
- I don't get invited to peoples' parties. It started in middle school when the snotty girls invited everyone but me to their birthday dance. It hasn't ended since. Nothing sucks more than finding out that people you hang around with an consider friends decided to do something fun and not bother to mention it to you until after the fact.
- When I plan them, people can't come. Even if they plan to come, on the day of the party, they don't show up.
- When people plan a party for me, they get canceled. It's happened more than once, the most notable time being my 16th birthday when my friends had planned a surprise party for me, and then a giant snow storm came and ruined it all.

I can't help but think it's because I'm not exciting enough to be a priority. Or maybe people are just afraid that I'll ruin something, so they don't invite me to theirs. I have a party curse. I really do. People have good excuses not to come but no one's there. My parties have to be postponed and no one can show up. Whatever party I plan just doesn't seem to work out how I plan it.

Okay, I'm just feeling a little sorry for myself because I had two parties planned this week, and it looks like neither one's really going to work out. My mom's turning 60 and I planned a good surprise party for her, but now she's stuck in Rochester with my dad at the hospital because he needs more tests on his heart. Goodbye well-planned surprise party. Hello "meet my mom for lunch if you can".
I booked a Lia Sophia Jewlery party back in March or something, because it got me a good discount on something I wanted, and there were a couple of other pieces of jewlery I liked but couldn't afford. The only RSVP's I've had have been "no's".

What's wrong with me? Do I pick bad days? Are people not entertained by the same things I am? Are they afraid that they'll be bored? Augh! Probably it's all in my head, and everyone feels like this. But maybe it's a party curse.

Take it from Here

I've had this song in my head for a few days now. I think God's maybe trying to tell me something through it.

Take it From Here by Christine Dente

I've been driving all night long
Trying to find a simple song
To cut through the dark
Lighten up the heart of a world gone wrong

One too many reckless days
Took a toll we couldn't pay
Now we're so lost
We never thought we'd end up this way
But we took off down the back roads
And we tried to go alone
Took the wheel in our own hands
But we couldn't make it home

Would You take it from here?
Cause we've carried on as long as we can
And You've made it so clear
We can't make it on our own
Could You take it from here?

So it goes the old refrain
We know we don't have what it takes
And it cuts to the heart
Lightens up the dark of the world we've made
No more trying to water
Seeds You haven't sown
No more trying to buy the time
We could never own

So would You take it from here?
Cause we've carried on as long as we can
And You've made it so clear
We can't make it on our own
Could You take it from here?

Tiffanie's Place

The house they live in is one of those old mansions that was probably built around the turn of the century when the neighborhood was new and beautiful, with long stretching lawns and no businesses around. Now it's a run-down former apartment building surrounded by businesses and other run-down houses. It's a little unnerving when you first show up to visit, but when you come inside, you are welcomed and you feel a sense of warmth. Tiffanie's decorated it with her own flare, with decorations that detract from the shoddy paint jobs, loose boards, and watermarks. She moved there with her family (husband and four kids) to "do ministry" in the ghetto through a church whose mission is to reach out to the urban community in our area.

She keeps her home like she lives her life--beautiful, with a welcoming air, not afraid of sharing her weaknesses and struggles. Her past is a long story full of scars and darkness, but her life in Christ is new and fresh. Just like her home, the outside might look similar to everyone else's in the neighborhood, but inside there is a contrasting peace and elegance. I want to be that way. I want to be comfortable wherever I am, willing to share my life and goods with others. I want where I live to be a reflection of that, no matter what neighborhood it's in and how old the house is. I want my friends to feel home with me.

I don't see Tiffanie very much anymore, because so many of the things we did together have changed. But I don't mind the chance to visit her in her "Haven in the Hood" and talk about things pertaining to life and godliness. I consider it a privilege.

a graduation poem

I wrote this for a girl I've known for several years now who just graduated from high school. I love her and really hope the best for her life.

For Taffi (Graduation)

You’ve grown up like a little rose
tender among the thorns
you fight to be heard
and long to be loved
even through the pain
even while the thorns prick at you every day
You’ve decided it’s normal
and it’s your lot in life
but sometimes the pain is more than your soft pedals can stand
and sometimes you wish you were dead
and you’d rather give up
than be hurt one more time
But still you rise. You bloom
and try again
hoping for the best
facing disappointment and loss
agony too deep for anyone else to understand

But you are a little rose
for all the beauty inside you
like a gem, glimmering bright there
amidst the thorns
Valuable because you are
beauty in itself
no matter who appreciates it
And you were created for a purpose
maybe you’ve yet to find
unfolding, as you live this life
like pedals that grow
full and bright
you will bloom
some day soon
and it will be hard to recognize you
from the place you began.

Little Rose, these thorns can be cut away
and we will all be amazed
at everything you accomplish
in those days
when you are raised from death to life.

Longing

On the same subject as the previous post, I wanted to add this. A couple of months ago my adult bible fellowship went through Beth Moore's "Patriarchs" study. I'm not one of those die-hard Beth Moore fans, although through the years I've gleaned some excellent things from her material. This poem she wrote and spoke at the end of the study (put to music by Travis Cottrell) has lingered in my mind since I heard it, haunting me sort of. It's her relevant application of the life of Abraham. How well it explains my heart these days, as I yearn for something I can't quite find.

Longing (Abraham's Song) words by Beth Moore

I am longing, longing,
For a place I cannot find
A place no one has told me
A land of a fairer kind.

You have kept Your promise to me
I have all a man could want
Yet I stare into the distance
I ache and still I long.
I'm surrounded by Canaan
Laughter echoes loud
I've loved and lived and followed
Built altars and I've bowed.
I'm longing.

(chorus)

O foolish man, O dreamer
ungrateful in my lot
Am I not here? Is this not dear?
What else could yet be sought?
Where are You, Lord, where are You?
Where is the home You, keep?
You came and wakened longing
Then You hid within the deep
And I'm longing.

(chorus)

I yearn to hear Your voice again
To feel Your presence near
You showed me there is
So much more, so much more then
left me longing here.

Somewhere beyond the stars
I counted one by one
A better country calls me
"Come home, true Canaan's son."

Getting In

Last week and the previous one, I helped with theatrical camp at my church. I got to write the devotion books for the kids to use for the two weeks. This year the play was about Exodus. Basically a kid's version of the 10 Commandments. I wasn't really happy with how the homework turned out, because to me it seemed too difficult for 5th8th graders. There were some who agreed with me, and others who thought they were great. Either way, the work I did on them got me thinking about the Promised Land. There's too much theology in there to explain where my thoughts ended up going, but since then, I've been thinking about heaven and wanting it more and more.
I know that we get to experience God here on earth and find home in Him, but I've felt so unsettled ever since I lost Grace. I want to be there now, where the pain will be gone and I can just hold my little girl and see her in the true image of God. I don't want to live through this life and watch bad things happen and try as hard as I can to be like Jesus but continually fail. Some days I'm tired of the dim glass we have to look at God through. I just want to be there with Him.
It's probably just a piece of my grief surfacing. Lately talk of heaven or songs just cause me to well up with such strong emotions that I cry. I hate being that way because I never used to be "emotional", but there's no way to change it. I want heaven. I want Jesus. I want to see God and know Him fully.
I've been familiar with this quote for many years now, since my brother-in-law attached himself to it. I discovered it about the same time as he did, but it's his, so I haven't used it like it's mine. But these last few months, it resonates so true with me:

"At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of the morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendors we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumor that it will not always be so. Some day, God willing, we shall get in." C.S. Lewis

Some day.

wedding remorse

This weekend I'm going to be in my best friend's wedding. My daughter is the flower girl, I'm a bridesmaid, and Daniel will be reading scripture. I'm really excited and happy for her.
It's made me think back to my wedding. I was 19 and really didn't know much about how weddings went or what options I had, so I kind of just did what people told me to. I would change a lot now, if I had a chance to do it over. And because I know you're all interested to hear it, here's what I'd change:
6 bridesmaids instead of 3. I wanted to have my best friend from high school Twan, be a bridesmaid, along with Emily my friend from church, and Becky my cousin, but my mom said it would be easier to just have the girls who lived nearby be bridesmaids instead of trying to get them all fitted for dresses and stuff. So I just went along with it. Daniel didn't have six guys to be groomsmen so I didn't want to make him pick some random people that weren't really good friends. So I had 3.
Music - I would have picked musicians who would actually show up at the wedding instead of calling two days before and canceling. I would have made sure that someone lifted chords for the song I wanted to have. If I could have known the future then, I would have made my sister-in-law (who wasn't related then, but was asked to play piano) play instead of the girl who quit.
Photography - I would have gotten someone with a nice camera to take the pictures.
Family - If I'd had six bridesmaids, I would have asked if my brothers both could have been groomsmen, and I probably would have had my sister (who was only 11 then) be a junior bridesmaid or something.

Everything went fine and we had a nice wedding. But I think some people ended up resenting me for not having them included. and I didn't really want that. I wish I could have known the future then. Oh well. shoulda woulda coulda.

Blogging

I love reading peoples' blogs. Sometimes I stumble on one so interesting, I just sit and read through it all. I mostly love reading my friends' blogs that are just about the things happening in their lives. So since I feel like writing tonight, I'll just give a quick update on my life. Because i should be in bed, but I'm doing this instead.

I've been working on devotionals for theatrical camp. Every year, my mother-in-law helps direct a camp for two weeks at church, where 5th through 8th graders put together a musical to preform. I've always helped in diffent ways, but for the last three years I've written devotionals, which go as homework. The kids bring them back and get points and then they can spend them at a store. Typical sunday-school style reward system. I reallyl enjoy writing the books and exploring the subjects that are in the musicals. This year it's about the book of Exodus. The Ten Commandments and Go Down Moses and all that. I've been having a hard time with the material for some reason, trying to find the right passages to use and some how make them relevant. I think the trouble is there is so much to pick from, and narrowing down what I want to say gets tricky.

My brother is home from the cruise ship tour for three months. His girlfriend Gabi is back with him this week, so I've been hanging around them a lot with the family. My whole family will be home this summer. Good thing I have my own house. We're having a good time right now. My parents just left for a 2-week trip to the Czech Republic.

Other people are back also. My brother and sister in Law, Nathan and Shelly, are back to have a baby. So we're just going to be busy all summer. I don't like being busy, but I like seeing friends and family who live far away.

I finished the book "Christy" and recommend it. I'll probably make a post about that.

I have nothing really intersting to share here. So I will post this and go to bed.

D-Day

D-Day

(In honor of Alvin Rustebakke, 28th Division, Second Ranger Battalion, WWII)

sixty-five years have passed
since the frightful day
when he struggled across the beach
dreaming of home in those Montana hills
saw the world as it was, the horror and agony
the price
paid in lives of friends--these soldiers straggled along the sands
but he saw God that day.

And he’s had a hard time of it
in those years since the war
and I wonder if it might have been different for him
if the ugliness and pain hadn’t come so early
Who can offer insight
into what changed that day in his heart and mind
all the reality
and the faith to back it up

but now his children
live in that freedom
an electrician, a veterinarian, a farmer and mechanic
their children making lives of their own
engineers, architects, psychologists, housewives
mothers, fathers.
new soldiers, fighting in foreign wars
and none will know the hardship he did
So for him the war is won.

In case you wanted to know

Babies don't have knee caps. But they cry a lot.

10 Reasons I love You

Today is my 8th anniversary. I'm so happily married it's ridiculous. To honor my husband, I've composed a list of things I love about him and because I know you all care so much, I'm going to share it with you. [Warning: major sappiness included]

1 - He's compassionate- a trait which I lack in so many forms, but which he helps to complete me. He sincerely cares for people, from faceless victims to closest family.
2 - He's deep. I've always loved that he is capable of thinking hard and analytically about things, and is able to discuss them, presenting his point of view respectfully and clearly.
3 - He's fun. I enjoy being around him, because he can make things funny that aren't funny. He can liven up conversations, and he remembers all of the stupid jokes we have between us. He thinks of creative ways to enjoy life.
4 - He's smart. He wouldn't say it, but he is. :o)
5 - He's a good dad. I'm not just saying it because I'm supposed to. He's so good at making teachable moments, disciplining with love, and being self-controlled. He plays with the girls and genuinely enjoys watching them develop and learn.
6 - He lets me have "me" time. Almost whenever I ask, no matter how stressed out or pressured he is, he's willing to let me do what I need to do, taking care of the kids and putting aside his projects.
7 - He watches chick flicks. And, often enough, likes them!
8 - He's strong. What girl doesn't want a guy who can lift a toilet all by himself?
9 - He knows something about everything. I don't have to use an encyclopedia terribly often because he can answer my questions. And he knows really random things like how to install a refrigerator. He's so useful.
10 - He's spiritual. He really cares about pleasing God and discovering theological truths.

To sum it up, he's everything I want and need, and I don't know how I ever managed to get someone so perfect. Happy Anniversary, Daniel!

9 Years ago... commencement.

I went to a local school's commencement ceremony this weekend, because several kids I know from young life were graduating. I couldn't believe how similar all of the ceremonies in my town are for each school. It was like sitting through my own commencement all over again. Minus being with friends and listening to people I know talk on stage.
It got me thinking--remembering, and it's put me in this nostalgic place all weekend.
My senior year was awesome. I liked my classes. I had lots of friends at school. I had a job but no living expenses, a car I could drive wherever I wanted. I was taking piano lessons, and helping out with stuff at church. And I had a great boyfriend. STill, I don't think I'd go back, except maybe to figure out how to keep my friends longer.
Nine years ago, I sat in the same place as some of those kids at graduation, thinking that the world was ahead of me, and SO GLAD to be done with high school. I thought my friends would be my friends forever. I planned so many things. But the things I planned didn't happen, really, mostly. And the friends I had in high school arne't really my friends anymore (save a couple, and I'm not saying I don't wish the other ones were still my friends because I love them all).

Better things happened. Because the plans I make aren't always as great as I think they are.

Complaining

I have a bone to pick with you. Yes, you!
You should leave comments on my blog to show your feelings about what I've written. Stop being so creepy and pretending like you don't read it when you do. We call that "internet stalking" and, it's annoying.

GRRRRR

For all of the advances in technology, I still can't find a poem I wrote a few years ago! I can't remember enough of the wording to search effectively for it, but I REALLY WANT IT. I can't find the notebook I wrote it in, and I searched through the archives on my xanga account and didn't find it (although I know I posted it). AUGH!

[edit]
I've found it! I was looking in the wrong place! It was in THIS blog instead of the other one (at the time I was still using both blogs).
And, as a happy addition, I discovered that I really enjoy reading things I wrote in the blog. You should read some of my older posts. They were a lot better back then.

Garage Sales

Before spring started, I needed some clothes for Arlene and Jayna. For $25 I went to Wal-mart and got them matching dresses, a pair of booties, one set of pajamas and some socks.
Today I spent about $25 and bought:
a toy piano
floor gym for Jayna with hanging toys intact
magnetic doll house book
doll sized pack-n-play
a sweater, skirt, 2 pairs of pants and 3 sets of pajamas for Arlene
an outdoor toddler play house thing
two shirts for myself
mosquito net to go over a carseat
toy race car set

I'm not too proud to use other peoples' old stuff. I love garage sales.

Are you a Trekkie?

Yesterday my family had to endure a short rant from me about why you can't compare Star Trek to Star Wars. It's like comparing Monster cookies to monster cars. Just because they have the same word in them and fall into the general "sci-fi" genre, does not mean they are, in any way comparable. They just aren't. And that's another story.
If I had to pick one, anyone who knows me would know, I'd definitely pick star Trek though. I don't really get Star Wars. I really just don't get it. I grew up watching the movies and I even saw Episode One in the theater. It made no sense to me.
Star Trek, I get. And I like it. Maybe I've never publicly admitted that. But I grew up on Star Trek. My dad and I used to watch the Next Generation together. And, when the original series made a daytime debut, my brothers and I watched. I saw the pilot of "Voyager" and got hooked. (Although I never seemed to get first rights on picking what we watched on television, so I hardly got to follow any series that I wanted to except for Doctor Quin, but that's just another embarrassing story).
With all of the different series showing and all of the family members interested in their developments, though, I have always had a pretty good grasp on what happens in Star Trek. I know which aliens are which and who's good and bad, and where Captain Kirk is from (i've been there) and I know a little history about each major character. Apparently that's more than most people know.
Apparently I might fall into the category of "trekkie". But I have never worn a Star Trek costume. And I've never gone to a festival or read any fan literature--oh, wait, I think I did read one novel, but it was based on the show. So, I don't know. If Trekkies could be rated on a scale of 1-10, 1 being not very interested and 10 being a complete geek, I'd probably be a 5. There you have it. I'm a little bit of a geek. but you probably already knew that. Where would you stand on the Trekkie scale? I'm interested to know.

Mother's Day

Last year, mother's day ended up being one of the hardest days I'd faced since Grace had died. There was a child dedication at church. Her due date had just passed, and several friends I knew were having their own babies. All of the mom crap they played at church topped it all of, and I left the service crying really hard. I threw myself into the arms of the first person who offered them, my mom's and mother-in-law's good friend Lori. I'm glad she was there, because I didn't look as ridiculous with someone holding me.
So this year I worried about what the day would be like. Grief emotions sneak up on you out of nowhere, sometimes, and sometimes you don't even realize where they're coming from or why you're having them until afterwards. Last week I felt depressed a lot, and I think it might have been because it was just so close to Grace's due date. And, while I have plenty of things to distract me and plenty of things to rejoice over, sometimes that lingering loneliness and pain creep up.
Today, being Mother's Day, I worried a lot beforehand. But it turned out to be just fine. My brother and sister-in-law just got back from a year and a half in Asia (they left the day Grace died, actually). My sister's home from college. And my mom is freaking awesome. Daniel played guitar for church, and there wasn't a sappy mom video or anything that sappy except two songs I didn't really listen to. Then Daniel got out of his obligations for the evening and my mom watched the kids, and we went to Star Trek (after eating lunch with my family).
Then we came home and relaxed in my messy house and I just feel good. Thank you, Jesus.

Trap

Luke 20 (the pharisees plot against Jesus)

Revered teacher
we will trap you in your words
by asking many questions
Because we seek to destroy you
to make you lose favor
in the eyes of the people.
But why?
You're some sort of threat to us and our ways
bringing new ideas
that we can't explain.
And you answer correctly
and show us our error
But we've found inside ourselves a holly terror
because we can all see
that you walk with God
more closely--yes, differently
than the best and the wisest of any of us.

Zaccheus' House

Luke 19 (Jesus invites himself to the tax collector's home)

where the sinner dwelt
Jesus needed to visit
to seek and save
even the lowest of slobs
who everyone hated
the short tax collector
and salvation came
to his house.

Luke 15 (the Prodigal)

Luke 15

Lost things found
we must be merry
it is right.

Who knew who

LUke 13:22-30 (Jesus' response to the question, "Lord, are there few of us who are saved?")

I healed and sang and walked with you
and used your name to drive out demons
but you say you do not know me.
I was there for all the acts you preformed
and I taught there on the streets
but you've shut the door
and said you never knew me
But I don't know how this
came to be
that some how
everything I did
produced nothing.
Now I'm left to wonder:
who is I who never knew you?

Be Ye Ready

Luke 12:35-48 (Faithful servants)

"Be ye ready
for the Son of Man will come at
an hour you do not expect"
But instead I've taken to drinking
and passing off my duties
to those less competent
and my waist isn't girded
and the lamp's all burned out
And I'm afraid I'll miss you
when you come back

Woes

Luke 11:43-54 (Jesus pronounces woes on the pharisees)

Woe to you Pharisees and lawyers
who claim to follow the law
but never saw the truth
and woe to you
who fight with your image
of piety instead of mercy
woe to them
who Jesus called whitewashed tombs
Woe! Woes pronounced
to those who were the leaders
to those who couldn't see
past the plank in their eye
and woe to me
for my loveless faith.

Luke 8

The Touch

Woman, you believed. Somehow
differently than the thousands
who Jesus
brushed shoulders with every day.

Son of Man - Luke 8

Who is this
who commands the demons
like they are pigs
and sends them there instead
of to the abyss
who is He
who knows the storms so well
that he falls asleep
and when he wakes
commands the waves to peace?
Who stands in the throng listening to their needs
healing with words
commanding spirits to flee
so many who followed
so few who could see
the Son of Man
who found me amongst
the lost sheep.

The Rich Young Ruler

(based on Luke 6 - not one of the better poems)

Now you've got me thinking
am I the rich young ruler?
too rich? too full?
Why is it wrong to laugh now?
and for men to speak well of me?
I don't understand the difference
joyful follower or mourner?
right after you called us friends of the bridegroom
It sounds to me like being happy is wrong
or maybe it just shouldn't be my goal.

LUke 4:14-30

And they say you were the Great Teacher
but I don't understand
the mysteries written here
how you were rejected in your own land
even after all had marveled and testified
was it because you were Joseph's son?
or maybe because really, you weren't?
And then, though they seized you,
you still went on your way
How can it be?
Fully God, fully man
yet so few could see.

John The Baptist

For your reading enjoyment, I will be posting a series of poems written while I studied the book of Luke last year. They're sort of raw, but I like most of them. I'm hoping that I'll have a chance to study more and fill out the missing chapters and significant parts for which I didn't have any profoundness to offer. But for now, let's begin with Chapter 3.

Did you wander in the desert
to get their attention
and eat off the land
because you had no choice?
Why did you have to be so different?
a radical
a sign of things to come
a shadow of truth
producing fruit
and keeping with repentance
Making the way for the King
And why you, among all others--destined
the greatest of those born of women.
How did you understand
when no one else did?

And did the Spirit pass from you
to Him in
that holy moment at the Jordan
Behold my Son
Behold the Lamb

You knew. You foretold
your kin--a cousin to you, but still more
Savior of all mankind
The fulfillment of all the law and the prophets
and you dunked him in the water like all the others
as if he had anything to repent.

Treasures

Sunday night at 10 pm, Daniel and I were sitting on the couch watching the series finale of Battlestar Galactica (pretty good, by the way), when a knock came on the door. A friendly kind of knock. It's always a little unnerving when someone knocks that late, but Daniel opened the door cautiously to see what the stranger wanted. There stood a middle-aged man wearing a bseball cap. He'd had a few too many drinks, evident from his slurred speech and strange behavior. But he wasn't threatening. He told us this had been his grandparents' house. After a friendly interrogation to make sure he wasn't making it up, he told us that he just wanted to see the shower in the basement because he'd left a hotwheels up on the cement rafters and he wanted to see if it was still there. Straange. He'd left lots of things around the house, but of course, when we got it (sold by the owners' estate) there hadn't been anything left behind. (although we did find two very old picture books under the floor boards upstairs, adn the grandson assured us that there were hotwheels up there too).
It got me to thinking, though, about how kids treasure things differently than adults do. When I was a kid, if I had a treasure, I often would hide it. Or put in a place for safe keeping. One time I spent about a week working at cutting up a golf ball with a hack saw so I could see what was inside. I cracked it open like an egg and found an endless ball of rubber bands. I stuck all of the pieces in an egg carton and hid it behind a bush out by the shop. I think my brothers found it anyway.
I can still show you the hiding places at my parents' house. Probably, if I could still crawl into that one crawl space, we would find some of those treasure that, as I had grown, were left forgotten, waiting to be found by some curious children in the future.
I had this pringles can decorated to look like a nutcracker. We made them in forth grade. I used it to store all of my "treasures", which was an actual collection of things I'd found. Nothing special AT ALL. Literally, things I'd found lying on the bus floors or buried in the pea gravel on the playground. This plastic ring with an Egyptian mummy, a keychain clamp, a polished rock, things like that. Stupid things. But they were mine and I treasured them.
Now that I'm grown, the things I treasure aren't so much tangible things. They're people, of course, and relationships. They're memories and letters and photographs mostly. I can't really store them in a Pringles can, but I don't want to forget them. Which is why I've kept around notebooks full of stupid stories from middle school, journals and photo albums. I remember now, but I might not in twenty years.
What about you? What are your treasures? What do you do to keep them close to you?

Writer's Lament

It's a windy, rainy, cold night, and I'm sitting here alone (well, not alone, but without adult company and with two sort of sleeping children, which is about as alone as I ever get these days) for the first time, it seems, since Jayna was born. This is "free time", I suppose. I should go and change out laundry loads or clean my really messy house, or at least start the dishwasher, but instead, I'm sitting at the computer, waiting for emails and facebook updates. It's a big waste of time, really.
I want to write. I've been trying to squeeze in a few minutes a day to work on a short story but it's making extremely slow progress. I usually finish a short story in a few sittings, and then edit it later. No luck this time. It's a very inspired story, but I have such short incitements of time.
While this was all happening, I got an email from the Christian Writer's Guild. It's the alumni newsletter, telling about all of the people who have gotten published thanks to the CWG's correspondence courses. Blah blah blah. People who have extra time, I guess [tongue in cheek].
One of the posts was a girl I actually knew. I met her at the one writing conference I went to, and we got along really well. but after promising to write, she didn't really respond to any of my emails, and she got a job for a publisher and disappeared. I acutally thought she might have been a publisher-spy who goes to conferences and plays nice and steals peoples' ideas when they share them. I don't think she was. She got her novel published. Lucky (said in the famous Napoleon Dynamite voice). It made me antsy and impatient. I want this time of life to be over so I can get on with writing, not to mention enjoying my life.
It's not like I don't have material. I probably should start sending out letters and meeting publishers, because I have more novels finished than I could ever publish (unless I meet a fantastic agent or someone who wants to help me get them all in print). Whatever. Maybe I'll enter a contest and win my way to fame and fourtune. That'd be fun.
I'm rambling now. This post has no point, except to express my lamentations. I wish... I wish... I wish... And I hear the mom's voice in my head saying "don't wish your life away", and "if you want it bad enough, you'll work for it". So that's all I have to say. Good night. I must go change a pooopy diaper and fold some laundry now. Hello life.

Catching my Breath

Things have been pretty crazy at our house. I really didn't expect a second baby to be so much more work. I don't know why. Jayna is a lot more work than Arlene was so maybe that's the big difference. I did expect big changes, and that we have gotten. :o) Slowly, new things are starting to feel like normal.
Mostly all that's interesting in my life right now is what I'm reading. Since I'm feeding Jayna so often, I have quite a bit of time to read. I decided to catch up on some of the fiction books that have been on my shelf for a long time. I'm not a super big fan of fiction, but once I get started on a book, I usually want to finish it asap.
Here's a list of what I've read or started recently:
Persuasion by Jane Austin (I'm sorry to admit, I lost interest in the second chapter and haven't finished it)
Troublesome Creek by Jane Watson - I liked it so much that I actually bought the sequel (brand new, which I never do) shortly after I finished it. The sequel is Willow Springs, and good news! There's a third one! It takes place at the turn of the century, and it's a story about a girl from the Kentucky mountains. In the first one she's mostly just growing up, and it's a series of little stories about her and her family. In the second one, she moves to the city and it's about what she does there with her husband. I'm really good at synopsies, aren't I?
Along Came Jones by Linda Windsor - The writing style was really annoying. I'd started the book several times and not gotten interested, but this time I decided I'd finish it. It's about a lady who gets stuck in Montana after being scammed by her boss who's actually ripping off a big drug lord. She has to escape and ends up finding refuge with an ex-marshall who lives in a ghost town. It's one of those stupid romances, and I really didn't like it that much. Some people would. Mostly it annoyed me because I have a feeling the author hasn't been in Montana or met a real cowboy. (But who has?)
A Family Apart by Joan Lorway Nixon In my opinion, Joan Lorway Nixon is an excellent author. I think she's maybe a little twisted with some of her novels, but her historical fiction is kind of cool. This is a book in the Orphan Train Quartet that I read in middle school and really liked. So I picked it up again. I really liked it again. It's about a family of six kids who get sent to live in the west during the pre civil war time period.

On my To Read List:

A Tale of Three Kings bby Gene Edwards - a friend loaned me his when I was in high school dealing with issues the church had brought into my life. I didn't finish it because I had to return it, but I've always wanted to, so I bought my own copy to read.

The Seeing by Bill Myers - Bill Myers is one of my favorite authors. THis is a spiritual suspense novel in the Soul Tracker series. Not my first pick for genres, but I like Bill Myers, and I think he has some good things to say about creepy spiritual things.

There's my reading list. What's on yours? Do you have anything to recommend?

Never Leave Child Unattended

We've been potty training a little at our house. It's very half-hearted on my part because I don't feel like putting the energy into it myself, and I think if I wait long enough Arlene will figure it out on her own. She's doing a pretty good job.
But recently I noticed that her little potty chair has a note on the top of the seat that says "Never Leave Child Unattended". I find that really funny. First of all, becuse it would be fairly difficult for her to hurt herself on the tiny chair. Secondly, because what parent would leave a naked child who's learning about poopoo and peepee to her own devices? I think it goes without saying that you don't want to leave your child unattended.
But there are those...

Every Girl's Dream

I wasn't the sort of girl who dreamed about raising my own family my whole life. I didn't really want kids until I was holding Arlene in my arms, to be honest. But I sort of figured it was inevitable, what with getting married and all. Something that I did sort of dream of, though, in my years growing up with a couple of close girl friends, was our having kids who could grow up together just like we did.
It doesn't happen a lot. Other things get in the way. I got married several years before any of my friends did. They were finishing college and pursuing careers when I was having kids. Some of them aren't married yet. Sadly, I had Arlene alone in the girlfriend world. (we've since met some friends who have kids about the same age). But I got an extra blessing with Jayna, besides just being able to have her.
My best friend Bethany (I have several best friends, so don't anyone go and get offended) got pregnant at the same time I did. We had the same due date. It was great! So we got to exchange pregnant stories and compare our bellies. And now, we'll get to compare our kids and exchange stories about them. She named her baby Lydia Joy.
Our birthdays are two weeks apart exactly (she was born the year after me), and our kids' birthdays are one week apart exactly. It's not a really big deal, but I think it's great. Even if our kids hate each other, I still think it's cool that we got to share that.

Night Time Soliloquy--The Lord's New Thing

Now that my baby has been born, I've been reflecting on God's promises and power and soverignty and how it all worked together in my life through my pregnancy. For the first and second trimester, I worried a lot. I'd wake up at night to use the bathroom, and if I came back and couldn't feel the baby moving, I'd lie awake, waiting, and worrying what would happen. I'd pray that everything would be OK and that I could trust God, but I don't think I was really trusting Him.
But one night He reminded me of a verse that I've been familiar with for a while. I'd rediscovered it in my Bible study, and it had applied to my pregnancy. so after that night when I remembered it, I would quote it in my mind whenever I worried. It would help me get to sleep.
Isaiah 43:18-19 "Do not remember the former things, Nor consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing. It shall spring forth; Shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert."
Well, the new thing has come. After all those nights of remembering the former things and worrying that I would relive them, I'm now living in the new. Not that I'll ever forget Grace and all that happened, but I can praise Him and rejoice that the story wasn't over after she died.
He's done a new thing. It's beautiful to me, the healing that has come through Jayna. New love, new clothes, new ways of doing things. New things all around.

Jayna

I stumbled across the name in a names book, and it said the meaning for Jayna is "God has been gracious". I thought it was really fitting after the year we've had to praise the Lord for His gifts to us--not just children (although we feel that our bundle is beautiful evidence of His grace)--but all of the other wonderful things that we've experienced, despite the grief and sorrow. Plus, it's a pretty name.

Another source I just looked at said that the meaning for Jayna is "Bringer of victory", which is also sort of fitting. Through the pregnancy, I felt a lot of dispair and worry, wondering if everything would be OK and thinking about what would happen to my faith and my life if I lost another baby. In some ways, her birth was victory over those fears and again, evidence that God is in control and is faithful.

We chose the name Joy as a middle name for semi-obvious reasons. We have already found great joy in her precious little life. And not just shallow joy, but the God-joy that fills our lives and takes us through hard times. Our pastor came to pray with us before we had the baby (and before we'd shared the name), and he prayed that the joy of the Lord would be our strenth. It has, and it always will be. And Jayna is a reminder of that strength that brought us through the hardest year of our lives.

New Baby

Facebook won't let me log in so hopefully this will post as a note for all of you who are wondering.
The baby is fine. Delivery was good, but now I have a spinal headache and I have to lie down or it gets really bad, so I'm not really up for communicating over the internet.
I'll write more later. for now, let me introduce our little one

Jayna (God has been gracious) Joy Snodgrass
born at 5:24 pm January 28th, 2009
7 lbs 20 inches (she likes having even measurements)

Pictures to come later when this blasted headache goes away. Thanks to everyone for your prayers and love.

Remembering.

I had a discussion with my friend recently about how to remember the birthday of a lost baby. I didn't really have any good ideas about what to do in honor of that baby or how to make it memorable without being too emotional. I still don't, and to be honest, I'm sort of glad I'm not going to have to think about it too much this year. I'll be spending Grace's birthday in the hospital.
I prayed that I could have the baby before or after her birthday so that it wouldn't be the same day (the 29th). My c-section got scheduled for the 28th, so at least this baby will have her own birthday. But I'm not sure how to feel about it, just that little piece. I'll be so happy to have this baby and love her.
But I can't not remember. And I know I'll be remembering the one who would have been, as I hold the one who wouldn't have. Maybe that's a taste of the fulfillment Jesus brought to Isreal, because I can relate with the words of Isaiah: "...to bring beauty for ashes... the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness that they may be called trees of righteousness the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified." (Is. 61:3)

Updates

I know not everyone cares to know this information, but some people I don't talk to regularly like to know what's going on, so I thought I'd just put out an update on my pregnancy.

I'm 36 weeks along now. Since 30 weeks, I've been having an ultrasound every week at the OB and seeing the doctor. They wanted to monitor things closely because of previous events, and because I'm on blood thinners. So I do that every Monday, and on Thursdays I take a jaunt to the hospital and have a non stress test to make sure the baby's doing OK.

Today at my appointment, we scheduled a c-section. I'd wanted to try and have a vaginal delivery (v-bac), but given several factors my doctor really recommended against it. There are a lot of details involved there, but mostly the blood thinner thing and a couple other things made us decide to go the surgery route. Unless, of course, baby decides to poke out before the day and do it head first (she's currently breech).

That's really all there is to say right now. Yes, we've actually got a name narrowed down, and no, I won't tell you what it is. Our house isn't ready for another baby, but we can make-shift it for a while until the attic gets finished. If anyone has an overwhelming desire to put up drywall or do some mudding, give me a call. :o)

Otherwise, things are good around here. Lots of good news from friends and exciting things coming up this year!

To Newsletter or to not. (Happy 2009)

We decided to not.
The one year I wasn't pregnant and got around to doing a newsletter was great. I like sending them out to our distant friends and relatives and catching them up on things. While I considered the idea for 2008, I realized that there haven't been any major events worthy of newsletter-type news. So I'll just make a little recap, in case there are readers who are interested in what's been going on.

January - said goodbye to our best friends (who happen to be relatives) leaving for missions; said goodbye to our baby daughter Grace. Discovered I have a genetic mutation that causes blood clots, which increase risks in pregnancy.

Feb - March Shoveled snow.

April - Took a nice little away trip to Baraboo, WI, stayed in a great bed and breakfast and rode roller coasters and bumper cars and go carts. Without kids. :o) (That was probably the highlight of the year for me).

May - Mostly did my best to hide out at home and avoid people. Found out we were pregnant (I think. It might have been in June). Also discovered a second gene mutation unrelated to the first one, which also causes blood clotting. It's a miracle Arlene came out like she did. (And, I must add through the year, she was a source of great joy and wonder as we watched her develop a personality and start being able to communicate better.)

June - Two cousins, a youth pastor, and a Czech exchange student visited for a few days. Attempted to save my parents' basement from the raging Cedar River Flood, which overtook our city and left a lot of damage. Fortunately, my parents' basement has recovered. Some of the things that were down there... not so much. A few things are still MIA meaning we aren't sure if we threw them out or put them somewhere else before it flooded. That water was nasty.



July-August Daniel spent most of his free time helping out with flood recovery. I went to Montana with a sick 1 1/2 year old and my parents. Will not do again without Daniel along. But I did enjoy the fair with my cousins and got to hang out with my grandparents, which is always good.

September-Oct - Daniel worked. A lot. I kept busy with regular home stuff. Nothing very interesting.
Nov - My brother came home from his cruise ship tour and visited. His girlfriend from Peru also stopped in for a week, and we all enjoyed getting to know her also. Arlene turned 2. Got a visit from my aunt and uncle and a couple of cousins I hardly ever see. I wished they could have stayed longer.

Dec - Daniel spent two weeks in California for work. It was cold here, and it snowed a few times. In the middle of his being gone, I went to Minnesota with my small group. We had a great time seeing Triple Espresso and shopping (well, they had a great time shopping. I would have been done after an hour). When Daniel got home, we got to spend a lot of time together as a family and enjoying each others' company. We listened to Christmas music and celebrated together and then with our families. Things were simple this year. It was one of my favorite Christmases since we've been married.

It's kind of been a hard year, which you probably know if you read the blog much. So, we're definitely looking forward to 2009 with a finished attic (hopefully), and a new baby girl!

Chrsitmas Song

I got really close to being able to write a poem the other day, but when I started, it just didn't come out well. I think the poetry is slowly seeping back in, though. It's been gone a while.
But, I like to post something at Christmas that I've found meaningful or deep, and this year it (again) comes from Todd Agnew's Christmas album: "Do you See What I See?" In it, he and his friends sing songs that come from different perspectives of people in the Christmas story and, as he said, "All these people just having a little piece of their puzzle, but knowing that some how that piece of the puzzle has to do with the fact that God has entered their world." I really like it and recommend it.

The song written to Jesus (since it would be hard to write one from his perspective as a baby) is really cool and always gives me goosebumps when I first pull the album out every year. I'll sure be asking Jesus some of the same questions one day.

Did you Know?

Were Mary’s the first eyes you saw
Or did You remember choosing that shade of brown?
Were You surprised at the shepherd’s crazy story
Or did You know You wrote the song the angels sang?

What was this life like for You?

Did You know?
Did the cross cast its shadow o’er your cradle?
Did You know?
Did You shudder each time Your hammer struck a nail?
Did you know?
How much heaven and how much earth
Were in this baby at His birth?
Did you know? Or did you wonder?

Did you remember the brightness of Your glory
Or did You just notice it was cold and dark here?
Did You know Your name or did you have to be told?
Were You just a baby or were You as old as time?

What was Your life like?

Strangely, "Santa" Switched Spells Satan

I needed to include that line as my title. It's from a poem I wrote freshman year with my friends. The assignment was to use alliteration. I think we did great. Maybe some day I'll post the whole poem.
So, I suppose I should give a spoiler warning. This post contains information which may scar you for life, if you don't believe in Santa. (But I suppose I might have scarred you already by calling him Satan).

Anyway, today I was thinking about Santa Claus. My parents never even hinted that he was real or gave gifts to us in his name or anything like that. I was the cruel kid who tels other kids that Santa isn't real with such conviction that they probably went home crying to their parents. but that's another story.
All I was really thinking about was how in the end, parents end up giving Santa all of the credit for their hard work. They were the ones who stood in the cold lines on black Friday waiting to get their Tickle-me-drive-your-car-superstar-creep-me-out Elmo toy, and they were the ones who had to find super hiding spots, and they're even the ones who wrap it up and write "from Santa". Then, they go to all the trouble of making cookies with their kids to keep up the santa facade, and they have to get up at unseen hours to put the presents under the tree, quietly enough that their children don't notice and wake up and have Christmas ruined for the rest of their lives.
It's a lot of work. And Santa shouldn't get the credit for it, since there is no Santa.

Then I wondered what would happen if we so easily gave God the credit for our work and treasures and talents like some people give to Santa. Just thinking.

Cardboard Testimonies

At church last week for the service they did this thing that I thought was kind of cool. Anyone who wanted to could participate, but they had people write on one side of a piece of cardboard something that represented their life without Christ, and on the other side, the wrote how Christ had changed that. Then everyone who'd written something took a turn on stage and showed the first side and flipped the cardboard and showed the other side. There were a lot of things written:
Addicted - Freed
Dead in sin - Alive in Christ
Wanted control - Allowing God to be in control

Things like that. So it got me thinking what I'd write. I mean, I don't really have a "before" Christ because I asked Jesus to be my Lord when I was really young, and I've always loved Him and tried to follow Him. So I don't have a testimony like my dad's (and praise the Lord I don't), but I always feel like I don't have much to say at all when people get to talking about that. I know what I'd be if I'd never known God, but it doesn't seem to tell the same story to say "I probably would have been a bitter loner who wrote depressing poetry and hated most everyone". I know that God still sought me out and saved me, and the same redemptive work was done, which is all I really need to know. But I like having more to say, because He's done so much for me.
I know that God continues to work in us even after we get "saved", so I thought about it on those terms, realizing the things He's changed in me as I've grown in Him and known Him better. So, I'd probably use one of these if I were going to a cardboard testimony:

Know-it-All - Knowing HIM
Lonely - He is all I need
Self-Righteous - Made righteous by His blood alone

I'm sure there's more. What would yours be?

Lincoln's 1863 Thanksgiving Proclamation

This is taken from the collection of Lincoln's papers in the Library of America series, Vol II, pp. 520-521

The year that is drawing toward its close has been filled with the blessing of fruitful fields and healthful skies. TO these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign States to invite and provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict; while the theatre has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defense have not arrested the plough, the shuttle, or the ship; the axe has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well of iron and coal as of the precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege and the battlefield; and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom.
No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently, and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence, for our nation perverseness and disobedience, commend to his tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferings in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consisted with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and union.

Ugh.

Well, since it looks like the popular thing to do, I guess I'll put in my two cents about the election.

I'm glad it's over. I'm really upset that "right wing Christian conservatives" thought it useless to go and cast their votes because they disagreed with the presidential candidates. Thanks for screwing over congress too. I'm not worried about the future because I know that God's in control. I'm mostly just annoyed at how ignorant people (on both sides) decided to be, and the mockery these elections make of our political setup. But at least I won't be getting more ads to contribute to my wallpaper collection, and won't have to answer the phone in the middle of nap time to listen to a robot tell me I should vote or take a loaded survey. That'll be good.

I've been having weird dreams lately. Sort of reminesent of that old end times movie "Thief in the Night". They're sort of laughable, though. I guess it's the subconcious trying to weed out everyone's prophesies about the future with Barak Obama as president.

Anyway, I guess my opinion hasn't changed through it all, though. I'm glad that we live in a great country and I'm glad for the freedoms we have, but I certainly haven't placed any sort of hope in political ventures or ideals. And I'm pretty glad I haven't. "Even so, come quickly, Lord Jesus".

Here are some lyrics that express what I think many people are trying to say today.

Crave - Shaun Groves
No magistrate can legislate
Peace and love and hope
No song can end or sermon mend
The fatal flaws in our souls
Pen and paper, Whitehouse won
Will never do what we need done
Chorus:
Can’t give me
What I crave-
Can’t give me
What I crave-
The end of tears and fears and war
Is what I’m craving in my core
Can’t give me
What I crave
What I crave

No millions spent can pay the rent
And get us into kingdom come
No atom bomb could right the wrong
Inside the veins of everyone
All the glitter, tanks and guns
Will never do what we need done

Nothing here beneath the sun
Can make us holy make us one
Only Spirit, second birth
Can satisfy my constant thirst
To spill out heaven here on earth

Thriftiness

I've been wincing every time the cashier reads the total off at the grocery store. Prices aren't ideal, and with the economy working the way it is, there doesn't seem to be an end in sight. I hear a lot of people complaining about it, offering their opinions on how it should be fixed, and worrying about what they'll do if things get "worse". Seems the popular opinion is that the government is to blame. And of course, they are. But I wonder how many of us are contributing to it by spending more than our resources allow, by throwing out things that could be salvaged, by spending more on clothes and food than we need to, or by just buying things that we don't need and can't truly afford.

I definitely fall into that category, way too often. I'd rather just get the pair of jeans full price and have them. I want a nicer house and a nicer car and newer clothes and better appliances. And I want them now. I don't want to sit around for six months, watching newspaper ads and garage sales to find a better price. I want a lot of things, and I stretch my income so that I can have many of them. But our grandparents and great-grandparents would warn us not to be so foolish. They saw what happened when people spent money they didn't have for things they wanted.

And I think we're seeing the same thing. Saving is so undervalued. Maybe we should take a lesson from the Scout Law.

A SCOUT IS THRIFTY, that is, he saves every penny he can, and puts it in the bank, so that he may have money to keep himself when out of work, and thus not make himself a burden to others; or that he may have money to give away to others when they need it.

I wonder how many people think they've got everything in order financially, but will find at the loss of a job or a major expense, that they aren't as set as they thought? Suddenly, the things they're used to buying cost too much, and they don't know how to cut back and do without.

Saving is hard, though. I'm not necessarily talking about making a savings account. I'm talking about making more money available out of what you have. Maybe I'm talking about "penny pinching". I don't understand why people are so willing to complain about how much things cost, but aren't willing to find a way to do without, make their own, or get it on sale. Are they afraid that people will think they're cheap?

Sometimes when I do things to save money, I have that creeping worry that someone will think I don't have enough money to pay for something better. But really, what difference does it make? Maybe I don't have the money. Maybe I put it toward something I like more. Or maybe I am cheap. It's not anyone's business. Being willing to save money in things I purchase for myself allows me freedom to be generous when others are in need.

I know this probably sounds like preaching, and I wasn't planning for it to, but, since everyone seems to be at liberty to express their views on how to fix the American economy and whose fault it is anyway, I think I should be able to also.

The Sunbird Pirates

That title sounds like the title of a book, but it's actually the title of last Thursday. We had a stressful week. The worst part was Thursday morning when we got a call from an area business, asking us to move our car out of their parking lot. Why was it there? We hadn't put it there. We'd left it at another parking lot right by our house (legally).
Long story short, someone stole our beater car (which we got for free) and went for a little joy ride before ripping it apart and stealing everything they could from it. I don't feel like philosiphising about how painful it is to have something like that happen to you, but it's been a long few days thinking about it.
We're OK. We have another car that Daniel can take to work until we get a replacement. The police have the car as evidence and will search it. They're treating this as a crime, same as if the car were worth a lot of money. We should hear more from the security of the place where our car had been parked (they have cameras in their parking lot), and maybe get some clues about what happened.
But, that's about all the update I want to give. It's all really stupid and makes us mad. And, if anyone has a car they want to get rid of for under $800, let me know. And, if anyone has Amy Grant or Steven Curtis Chapman CD's they don't want anymore, let me know (Daniel lost his whole collection).
And pray that they catch the pirates.

Pregnancy

It's been a while and people are asking how it's going, so I thought I'd inform the masses so you can all tell each other and I don't have to. :oD Or you can ask too.

On Friday I thought I was going into labor because I was having painful contractions at frequent intervals. It was OK. When i called they told me specifically what to look for, and as the day went on, I felt better and decided not to worry about it. The weekend was good, but I had a lot of cramps (not contractions, just cramps). So I called today and they called back and told me just to come in and have an ultrasound and they would test a hormone level to make sure I wasn't getting ready to go into labor. The ultrasound looked good, and I really wasn't worried, but I'm the kind of person who does what they're told and then asks questions later. I felt like something was weird because the lady who did the ultrasound had me wait while she talked to the doctor before telling me everything was OK, and then she asked if I had an appointment coming up (it's next Friday). So I was glad, but a little uneasy thinking there was something not terribly urgent that they wanted the doctor to tell me at my next appointment.

Apparently I worry too much. Dr. Pickering called me about an hour later and just said he was glad to see that ultrasound was OK and everything looked great. He's a really nice guy. He said he understood this was probably a difficult time since it's the same gestational week when I lost Grace (25), and he just wanted to check and make sure I was OK. He said the don't be afraid to call thing, and then he added, "We all know who you are here," which I found amusing. He's a really great guy.

So, anyway, things look to be OK in the womb, which is reassuring. I worry a lot, and I don't want to. Daniel's been working really long hours trying to get their project ready for a flight demo, which has now been pushed back a little. They're planning a 2-week-long trip for him. :o( So I have long days, if anyone wants to hang out. And I need to get supper ready.

Playing solitaire all night... with a deck of 51.

So... what's more pathetic? The fact that I felt the urge to share my solitaire score with all of my blog readers?
That my score was actually almost twice that last night?
Or the fact that I'm playing that much solitaire in the first place? (In my defense, my husband is away this week...)

Sometimes I just play the stupid card games so I can think through something. like when I'm writing and need to think of what will happen next or how to word something. It seems like an effective tool. Probably not time-saving, however. I am curious, though, if anyone else manages to win at "Vegas style" solitaire, or if I'm a prodigy and should pack up and go to Vegas tonight to win me some big money?

Politics

I have to vent. I don't think I can make it to November.

One of the first "hard lessons" we learn in life is "Don't believe everything you hear". What I want to know is, if that's the case, and we have that lesson ingrained in us to distrust society so much, then why do so many people believe every piece of media regarding political campaigns? Even if they're just believing what they choose to believe as fact, shouldn't they still be finding out whether or not it's true? Examining the context? Looking for reliability of "witnesses" and credibility of their sources?

I've always been pretty politically interested. I was a history major. I planned to be a social studies teacher. I served as a representative at the county Republican convention, and I have, since age 18, been to the polls to vote every two years. I stood on the side of a highway campaigning on election day when I was in college. And I think I will, in the future, continue to "help out" during campaign years, and fight for whatever causes I believe in. But. I have never been so sick--and sickened by politics as I am this year. I'm really just tired of it. So there. Now you know. If you're planning to strike up a political debate with me, count me out. I don't care anymore. I've decided who I'm voting for based on what I think is important. And I don't think that more mud slinging will change my mind.

What I Should Have Said

Yesterday someone asked me, in a conversation about my recovery from grief, how God had been part of it. I didn't know what to say because I suck at talking and answering deep questions on the spot, but when I thought about it later, I wished I'd said so many things.
One of them being how joy and sorrow are so closely linked, and how it's actually hard to find joy without sorrow or trial. At least for me. I know of a lot of people with deeply rooted joy that just flows out o knowing God and understanding His love.
But I've never been that way. Partly because of my intellect blocking out so many feelings, and partly because I'm not a feely person. Not that joy is a feeling, it's more of an understanding. Anyway, there are numerous reasons for my lack of joy, which has always felt like a problem to me. I wanted it, but no matter how I searched or what answer I thought I knew, there was some piece of it missing. Not that I knew what it was. I mean, I have everything I need for life and godliness through my knowledge of him who called me according to his own glory and goodness. So there should have been joy.
But, there were parts of God I didn't fully know or understand before experiencing tragedy. And I think that so much of Christian joy--the confident assurance of God's provision and care despite any circumstance--is discovered in those kinds of things. Like it says in James 1:2 "Count it all joy my brothers, when you are faced with trials and temptations, for the testing of your faith develops perseverence". Now there is a deeper knowledge of His goodness, His kindness, and His faithfulness, that can't be found in day-t0-day things.

I hope that makese sense. I'm not saying others don't know joy. I'm really just talking about myself, and the healing of my heart.

Be Still

Last night I was paranoid and anxious--very common feelings these days--about my pregnancy. Worried about things I knew I shouldn't worry about. Usually I can move on past those thoughts, but sometimes they come and bury me and I dwell on them and worry grows like a tree that shades my heart and mind.
I hadn't felt the baby move very much that day, even though I'd had an over abundance of caffine, and I was worried something could be wrong. It's stupid, but you aren't allowed to make fun of me. Anyway, when I worried out loud, Daniel prayed for me and the baby. Then, for the rest of the night (in bed, mind you), the baby wouldn't stop kicking. Ahh. That's just what I need for a good night's sleep. And I'm not being sarcastic. I now have trouble sleeping if I don't feel kicking.
Anyway, because of said caffine, I still had trouble falling asleep, so as I lay awake, praying for a friend of mine, and thanking God that this baby is still OK, He spoke to me. Quite familiar words, heard so often.

Be still and know that I am God.

And I realized my lack of faith, which I want so badly to have, is partly because I've been too busy listening to myself think and worrying and fretting, so I couldn't hear His voice speaking in the quiet. Be still. He's there with me, in presence rich and full. And, just like the baby inside who isn't easily felt in the busyness of a day, it takes being still to feel it and know it's there.

On the Exclusivity of Christian Communities

I've read a lot of articles and thoughts about the importance of community, how we're made to fellowship and exist in relationships. Most recently was an article about why so many people appreciate Islam, because of the brotherhood it offers for outsiders.

Clearly, "community" is something big the church has to offer, and perhaps, in this day and age, the most appealing thing a church can offer. But what happens, when there is an appealing community that one so desires to be a part of, but they don't "fit in"? I think that's a very dangerous place for a church or small group to get to. If, in your intimacy and friendship, you don't feel comfortable letting others enter, what's the point of having an appealing community? While it's great to encourage the brethren, our fellowship has a deeper purpose: "By this all men will know that you are my disciples if you love one another". Big deal if they see you are His disciples, but you aren't willing to love the ones who aren't in the "one another" category. By love, I mean accept into your community.

I don't have a specific community in mind. And I perhaps have the longest way to go in improving my including skills. It's just something I've thought about a lot, maybe because I feel alienated so often. Accepted, but not included, as Brian would always say. But it worries me when some people who need that extra family and don't find it in the church. The pain of feeling rejected or alienated can push a person away and cause them to search somewhere else. If you're lucky, it's another church. But I think, in the minds of many unbelievers, all churches are the same. That thought frightens me. That maybe that scruffy blue collar guy who smells like smoke, that unwed pregnant girl, that drug-addicted kid with long hair and ACDC tee-shirt, that estranged couple--they're trying this Christian group this one time, and if it doesn't work out, they'll never step foot in another church.

Not that it's all up to us, but I think that we can at least do our best to not "shun the unbeliever" (sorry, I had to put the Charley reference there. It was too perfect), to push aside our inhibitions and say "hi, glad you're here", or invite a person to your small group, to smile at someone who most people look away from, to be like Jesus and invite the social rejects to come and see who He is.

Fashion Questions

Things I think about when I go shopping:
Why was it, when I was a kid, if I wore pants that were too short, they were something to be made fun of, but now they're cool?
Why do short women and big women get their own section in a store ? What about tall women? Tall men get their own section. I don't think that's fair.
Why did they stop measuring bra sizes with the D? Why couldn't they have had E, F, and G instead of DD DDD and DDDD? I think that's confusing.

Update on Me

I realized that some of you read this blog to get updated on my life, and I don't usually have a lot to say. That hasn't changed, but I don't know who reads this, and so if I don't say important information, you might get passed by in receiving it.
So. Here's the latest news. If you're wondering because you never see me, I "Still don't have a belly", although it portrudes quite enough, thank you. I guess it's pretty small for this phase, but I've never been very big on the outside. I just get all of my ribs displaced as the baby grows.
And now the good news: On Wednesday the 3rd I had my regular 20 week OB checkup, and for ONCE it was good news! The dr. said "What's up with this perfect ultrasound?" My hemorrhage was gone without a trace, and all of the baby's organs were growing like they should and looking good. (In the last pregnancy there was something with the kidneys which became a non issue, but of course it was present in my mind this time around). We did find out the gender, but if you wanna know that, you'll have to ask in person or in email. :o) Needless to say, we're all rejoicing and glad that things are good now.
I couldn't say I'm done worrying since the hemorrhage is gone, since we lost Grace at 25 weeks.
The first week in October might drudge up some painful memories of that. I know the calander doesn't really coincide with anyone else's by my own, but you always compare pregnancies and remember the different phases (or at least I do), so prayers are always welcome.
I suspect after this pregnancy hits that point, I might feel even more at ease, but thankfully, I can always rest assured that we're both being held in Big Hands (not to be confused with Bigfoot). Plus, my best friend prophesied this baby with a dream that she was watching Arlene while I went to the hospital in labor. j/k. Although, she also sort of prophesied Arlene. But that's a whole-nother story.

Writer's Block

If you look back at some of my posts from before I ever had kids, you might be surprised at how much more profound and better-written they were (at least in my opinion). There's poetry, too. But some how, getting pregnant sapped most of my creativity from me. It's really strange. It happened with Arlene first. After she was born, I had some free time with her sitting in the little bouncy chair beside me, and I could write more. Until she started crawling. Then I just didn't have as much time. Now, again, I see, my creativity is lacking in depth and color. It drives me nuts because there's no realy good explanation. Maybe I'm tired, and hormones make me think strangely, but what I'm thinking about today is how I could write when I was pregnant with Grace. I had so many ideas and thoughts and things to get down on paper. I started three new stories and re-wrote at least one.
Even after the still birth, in the depth of my sorrow, I found many things to say and no audience to say them to. Which means my journal and poetry flourished. I wrote some pretty good fiction then, too.
Now that I'm pregnant again, the same creativity halt has been placed in my brain, and I'm out of good ideas. Well... what good ideas I do have, mostly I forget about between running out for groceries and diapers and whatever else, chasing after Arlene, and trying to sleep in my spare time. Maybe I'm just too busy to stop and contemplate like I've been able to in past years. Maybe it's just this phase of life that keeps me stopped up. But even when I've been busy before, I've been able to fit some time in and, the in those blessed quiet moments, I could scribble down all of the thoughts and ideas that had come to me in the busyness.
I hope it comes back. Because I don't really want to write children's books about picking up blocks and eating your peas... and I miss my poetic ramblings. I'm sure you all do too (just kidding).
I don't have much of a point here. I just felt like complaining. And... I guess, whether or not there's a good purpose, I want to keep saying something so I'll be in practice when better ideas pop up. As the saying goes, "When you can't think of anything to say, say it". Oops. Maybe that's not so applicable here.