Dear sisters in Christ,
Oh how we failed this morning. It breaks my heart. Our purpose in meeting together is to enrich our souls, edify our walks with Christ, fellowship together, and learn from the Word. Today, I am sad at the way a sister was treated as she walked in the door this morning.
This morning, a new mother woke up exhausted from a very long night with an infant. She got herself ready to be at this conference early this morning. Her husband stayed up too late last night, so he woke up crabby. They had an argument. The baby woke up,crabby and cried all morning. She still came. And as she struggled to get her stroller in the door because women standing around her would not help her with the door, a coordinator appeared and scolded her for not wearing her name tag. She appeared at my breakfast table looking utterly defeated this morning. She was expecting to come here after a difficult morning and get her should fed and cared for and instead she was scolded about something has stupid as a name tag. If you think something so small can't cause someone to stumble, you are wrong. Sisters, we do not know what each woman coming into this conference this morning has endured. We need to extend grace and mercy towards each other. Let's do better for the rest of the day, ok?
Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Saturday, September 10, 2011
10 Years...
It was a normal school day for me. I woke up at five thirty, showered, got dressed, left my house at six thirty. I picked up my friend Sarah. I can’t remember what we talked about as we drove to Eastview High School, but I’m pretty sure that it was normal teenage stuff. As we drove we listened to the morning show on the local top forty radio station. School starts at seven thirty. It was no different that day. Funny, I can’t even remember what my first hour class was. None of those details were important to me then, they are lost in the fog of time.
It’s interesting how some things are burned into our minds. There are moments when time slows down and you have all the time in the world to log each detail away so that you can remember it all your life. Those who remember Pearl Harbor know what I’m talking about. Those who remember President Kennedy’s assassination know what I’m talking about. During those moments you rarely know that your mind is actually locking those things into your memory. Usually the moment happens and you remember it forever without even realizing why.
I remember that my second hour class was AP Literature and Composition. I remember that my teacher’s name was Mr. Bayer and that he had a really casual teaching style that made his English class the most enjoyable English class I had ever taken in high school. I remember that the girl who sat next to me was named Katie, and that she was in color guard for the marching band. I remember that her boyfriend’s name was Cody because she talked about him all the time. I remember that I sat in the second row on the left hand side of the classroom as you look at it from the back. I remember that we were supposed to watch “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.”
My dad is an airline pilot. That has always made my life a little different. He was gone a lot when I was younger. People always looked at me with the same look that you would give a kid whose dad is in the military.
“Oh, that must have been hard for you.” People would say to me as I got older. The truth is that I never really thought about it. My dad was a pilot before I was born. I have never known anything different. Northwest Airlines, whom my father flies for, has their world headquarters in Eagan Minnesota which is, not coincidentally, where I grew up. That whole area is chuck full of airline families. All my friends in high school with the exception of two were from airline families. When I went off to college people would say things like “Oh wow, your dad’s a pilot?! That’s so cool! So do you, like get to fly for free?” Nobody said things like that in high school. They were all in the same boat as me. There was a mutual understanding among us. We talked smack about Northwest management when the pilots went on strike in 1998, and every time the mechanics went on strike we griped about how the CEO really didn’t know anything about his company. We talked about a lot of things having to do with the airline industry, but we never, ever talked about plane crashes. There is a solidarity among airline families. The same kind of solidarity you find among military families, and NASA families. The thing that airline families have in common with military families and NASA families is that we all know that at any moment, tragedy can strike. It never matters how safe flying is supposed to be, or how few accidents they’ve actually had in the space program, or whether your spouse was supposed to be a non combatant, there is always the knowledge in the back of your head that there is a possibility that when your family member leaves for work, he or she may not come home. You never talk about that possibility. You never think about that possibility. When I was in tenth grade I really, really liked this boy. I was convinced that I was going to marry him someday, as soon as he realized he loved me back. There was nothing that boy could do to make me stop liking him. At least, so I thought. When we were discussing flight plans for our summer missions trip with church, I asked what airline we would be flying. He cracked a joke about flying on Egypt Air. Earlier that month an Egypt Air flight had crashed shortly after take off. It was determined that it was pilot suicide. I hated that boy. I hated him with everything I had for that moment. (And for a while afterwards, until he finally apologized to me.) When TWA flight 800 blew up over the Atlantic, we were glued to the television. The reason is simple, we are a community, and we feel it when we lose a member of that community. The thing about the airline community is that when a plane goes down we don’t just lose one member of the community, we lose several. After it leaves the news, we never talk about it again. It’s not something we want to remember over and over again.
Everything that happened after that second hour class is vivid in my memory. I remember third hour Spanish and calling my mom and telling her that I wanted to go home. I remember Eastview High School going on lock down. I remember a girl named Maggie hysterically telling people that her mom was being forced to evacuate the IDS tower in downtown Minneapolis because “it was next.” I remember a fellow pilot’s daughter huddling next to her locker and telling me that her father was flying that day. I remember there being so much we didn’t know. I remember going home.
I wrote a poem for a scholarship about it. It was really good. It was too good. I never submitted it. I think I wanted to keep it especially for me. Every person had something about that day that they kept to themselves. I think everyone had to keep at least one thing to themselves because there were so many things we shared. American flags lined the streets of suburbia and every car had a “united we stand” bumper sticker. There were candlelight vigils and tributes to the heroic firefighters and police force members. There were bulletin boards covered in pictures of missing people and pictures on the news of their families crying as they pleaded for information about their loved one.
I remember Mr. Bayer turning on the television and turning off the lights in the classroom. I remember that in the split second it took for the video tape to register in the VCR we caught a glimpse of two buildings on fire. I remember thinking it was just a made for TV movie. Then, I remember seeing the CNN logo in the bottom corner. I remember the class shouting in unison, the same two words “GO BACK!!” I remember Mr. Bayer sinking into his chair as we watched unbelieving what was unfolding on the TV in front of us. I remember seeing the buildings fall. I remember the principal talking over the loudspeaker saying that school would remain in session, although teachers would be free to abandon their lessons and just watch the news all day. I remember the airline kids shooting terrified glances at each other. I remember thinking where is my dad? Is he flying? I remember calling my mom and finding out that he was safe at home. I remember waiting anxiously for the newscasters to tell us what airlines had been involved.
There were tributes to the pilots and flight attendants that died that day. But not until later. They seemed to us to be the forgotten victims. Then, we received stickers in the mail from the Airline Pilot Association. They said “we will not forget.” They are right. We won’t forget. I read in the newspaper about the husband of one of the flight attendants and how he rode his bike across the country to commemorate the life of his wife and the lives of her co-workers. There was a memorial put up to venerate the crew of United flight 93.
And me? I joined the ranks of those who would go on to be called the 9/11 generation. We now know what it’s like to be someone who remembers Pearl Harbor, or the Kennedy assassination. We know what it is to have a single moment in history burned into our eyes and ears, and for some of us, our noses as well. We know what it is to suddenly worry about our safety when we’ve never had to before. And, like two generations before us we know what it is like to feel overwhelmed with uncertainty about the future. We all know that someday, our children will ask us about that Tuesday morning, and we will help them write their history papers and projects about it. We will show them newspapers and video tapes of CNN and NBC broadcasts. They will ask us how it feels to remember such a pivotal event in our nation’s history. We will respond that we are not the first to experience it, and we will not be the last. Because, after all, history has a way of repeating itself.
It’s interesting how some things are burned into our minds. There are moments when time slows down and you have all the time in the world to log each detail away so that you can remember it all your life. Those who remember Pearl Harbor know what I’m talking about. Those who remember President Kennedy’s assassination know what I’m talking about. During those moments you rarely know that your mind is actually locking those things into your memory. Usually the moment happens and you remember it forever without even realizing why.
I remember that my second hour class was AP Literature and Composition. I remember that my teacher’s name was Mr. Bayer and that he had a really casual teaching style that made his English class the most enjoyable English class I had ever taken in high school. I remember that the girl who sat next to me was named Katie, and that she was in color guard for the marching band. I remember that her boyfriend’s name was Cody because she talked about him all the time. I remember that I sat in the second row on the left hand side of the classroom as you look at it from the back. I remember that we were supposed to watch “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.”
My dad is an airline pilot. That has always made my life a little different. He was gone a lot when I was younger. People always looked at me with the same look that you would give a kid whose dad is in the military.
“Oh, that must have been hard for you.” People would say to me as I got older. The truth is that I never really thought about it. My dad was a pilot before I was born. I have never known anything different. Northwest Airlines, whom my father flies for, has their world headquarters in Eagan Minnesota which is, not coincidentally, where I grew up. That whole area is chuck full of airline families. All my friends in high school with the exception of two were from airline families. When I went off to college people would say things like “Oh wow, your dad’s a pilot?! That’s so cool! So do you, like get to fly for free?” Nobody said things like that in high school. They were all in the same boat as me. There was a mutual understanding among us. We talked smack about Northwest management when the pilots went on strike in 1998, and every time the mechanics went on strike we griped about how the CEO really didn’t know anything about his company. We talked about a lot of things having to do with the airline industry, but we never, ever talked about plane crashes. There is a solidarity among airline families. The same kind of solidarity you find among military families, and NASA families. The thing that airline families have in common with military families and NASA families is that we all know that at any moment, tragedy can strike. It never matters how safe flying is supposed to be, or how few accidents they’ve actually had in the space program, or whether your spouse was supposed to be a non combatant, there is always the knowledge in the back of your head that there is a possibility that when your family member leaves for work, he or she may not come home. You never talk about that possibility. You never think about that possibility. When I was in tenth grade I really, really liked this boy. I was convinced that I was going to marry him someday, as soon as he realized he loved me back. There was nothing that boy could do to make me stop liking him. At least, so I thought. When we were discussing flight plans for our summer missions trip with church, I asked what airline we would be flying. He cracked a joke about flying on Egypt Air. Earlier that month an Egypt Air flight had crashed shortly after take off. It was determined that it was pilot suicide. I hated that boy. I hated him with everything I had for that moment. (And for a while afterwards, until he finally apologized to me.) When TWA flight 800 blew up over the Atlantic, we were glued to the television. The reason is simple, we are a community, and we feel it when we lose a member of that community. The thing about the airline community is that when a plane goes down we don’t just lose one member of the community, we lose several. After it leaves the news, we never talk about it again. It’s not something we want to remember over and over again.
Everything that happened after that second hour class is vivid in my memory. I remember third hour Spanish and calling my mom and telling her that I wanted to go home. I remember Eastview High School going on lock down. I remember a girl named Maggie hysterically telling people that her mom was being forced to evacuate the IDS tower in downtown Minneapolis because “it was next.” I remember a fellow pilot’s daughter huddling next to her locker and telling me that her father was flying that day. I remember there being so much we didn’t know. I remember going home.
I wrote a poem for a scholarship about it. It was really good. It was too good. I never submitted it. I think I wanted to keep it especially for me. Every person had something about that day that they kept to themselves. I think everyone had to keep at least one thing to themselves because there were so many things we shared. American flags lined the streets of suburbia and every car had a “united we stand” bumper sticker. There were candlelight vigils and tributes to the heroic firefighters and police force members. There were bulletin boards covered in pictures of missing people and pictures on the news of their families crying as they pleaded for information about their loved one.
I remember Mr. Bayer turning on the television and turning off the lights in the classroom. I remember that in the split second it took for the video tape to register in the VCR we caught a glimpse of two buildings on fire. I remember thinking it was just a made for TV movie. Then, I remember seeing the CNN logo in the bottom corner. I remember the class shouting in unison, the same two words “GO BACK!!” I remember Mr. Bayer sinking into his chair as we watched unbelieving what was unfolding on the TV in front of us. I remember seeing the buildings fall. I remember the principal talking over the loudspeaker saying that school would remain in session, although teachers would be free to abandon their lessons and just watch the news all day. I remember the airline kids shooting terrified glances at each other. I remember thinking where is my dad? Is he flying? I remember calling my mom and finding out that he was safe at home. I remember waiting anxiously for the newscasters to tell us what airlines had been involved.
There were tributes to the pilots and flight attendants that died that day. But not until later. They seemed to us to be the forgotten victims. Then, we received stickers in the mail from the Airline Pilot Association. They said “we will not forget.” They are right. We won’t forget. I read in the newspaper about the husband of one of the flight attendants and how he rode his bike across the country to commemorate the life of his wife and the lives of her co-workers. There was a memorial put up to venerate the crew of United flight 93.
And me? I joined the ranks of those who would go on to be called the 9/11 generation. We now know what it’s like to be someone who remembers Pearl Harbor, or the Kennedy assassination. We know what it is to have a single moment in history burned into our eyes and ears, and for some of us, our noses as well. We know what it is to suddenly worry about our safety when we’ve never had to before. And, like two generations before us we know what it is like to feel overwhelmed with uncertainty about the future. We all know that someday, our children will ask us about that Tuesday morning, and we will help them write their history papers and projects about it. We will show them newspapers and video tapes of CNN and NBC broadcasts. They will ask us how it feels to remember such a pivotal event in our nation’s history. We will respond that we are not the first to experience it, and we will not be the last. Because, after all, history has a way of repeating itself.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
10 Things I Wish I Could Do....
1. Go to the beach
2. Go out on a date with my husband
3. Take a jacuzzi bath (it's like my jacuzzi tub is taunting me with all the kiddie toys in it)
4. Go to a movie in the theater
5. Drink caffeine
6. Sleep through the night
7. Write a book
8. Keep up with this Blog
9. Type with two hands
10. Not be frustrated that I can't do these things....
2. Go out on a date with my husband
3. Take a jacuzzi bath (it's like my jacuzzi tub is taunting me with all the kiddie toys in it)
4. Go to a movie in the theater
5. Drink caffeine
6. Sleep through the night
7. Write a book
8. Keep up with this Blog
9. Type with two hands
10. Not be frustrated that I can't do these things....
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Confessions of a New Mom Part III
I'm REALLY REALLY wanting to go to the beach!
Ok, that doesn't have a lot to do with being a new mom, but I would LOVE to take the kids to the beach. Owen is a little young, but Derek would have so much fun! He's constantly asking to go. Maybe next year when Owen is a little bigger.... In the meantime, I will settle myself with sitting in my backyard in the scorching hot sun with ocean sounds playing on my phone. :)
Ok, that doesn't have a lot to do with being a new mom, but I would LOVE to take the kids to the beach. Owen is a little young, but Derek would have so much fun! He's constantly asking to go. Maybe next year when Owen is a little bigger.... In the meantime, I will settle myself with sitting in my backyard in the scorching hot sun with ocean sounds playing on my phone. :)
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Confessions of a New Mom Part II
I don't like my seven week old's personality!
I know that babies don't really get their personalities until 3 months or so, but so far, my baby has been nothing but ornery and fussy. He doesn't like to be put down. As a result he hates the swing, the bouncy seat, the play mat, the car seat (therefore the car also), the Ergo carrier, the Moby Wrap, the Baby Bijorn, the stroller.... anything that's not being carried in arms. He also has stopped taking a bottle, and spits out any pacifier you try to give him. Nursing only for this kid. Needless to say this all makes my life very difficult. He has about 5-10 minutes of quiet happy time right after he eats. This is when we play and I get to see his smile. But then he starts fussing and the fussing doesn't stop until he goes to sleep. Thanks to his current sleep strike, that isn't happening very much either. I know that this will soon pass, and I love my baby more than anything, but I really can't wait for that 3 month mark.
I know that babies don't really get their personalities until 3 months or so, but so far, my baby has been nothing but ornery and fussy. He doesn't like to be put down. As a result he hates the swing, the bouncy seat, the play mat, the car seat (therefore the car also), the Ergo carrier, the Moby Wrap, the Baby Bijorn, the stroller.... anything that's not being carried in arms. He also has stopped taking a bottle, and spits out any pacifier you try to give him. Nursing only for this kid. Needless to say this all makes my life very difficult. He has about 5-10 minutes of quiet happy time right after he eats. This is when we play and I get to see his smile. But then he starts fussing and the fussing doesn't stop until he goes to sleep. Thanks to his current sleep strike, that isn't happening very much either. I know that this will soon pass, and I love my baby more than anything, but I really can't wait for that 3 month mark.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Confessions of A New Mom Part I
Welcome to my new series. Confessions of A New Mom. Now, granted, I'm not exactly a new mom, I've been Mom to Derek for a while now, but I'm the mom of a new baby, so that counts. So without further ado, here is Part I...
I Hate Breastfeeding!
I feel like this is something I'm not supposed to hate! So many people talk about how much they love it, but I'm just not feeling it. I breastfed Derek for 7 weeks, and gave up after bad information and formula supplementing depleted my milk supply to nothing. But deep down, I was relieved after I gave it up. I didn't have to worry anymore about wearing clothes I could nurse in easily. I didn't have to worry about sore nipples anymore. I didn't have to deal with engorgement after going on a date with my husband and missing a feeding. It was a little bit of a pain to carry around multiple bottles and formula when we went somewhere, but it was an small inconvenience I was willing to deal with. This time around, things are different. I have much better information. I am more educated about the benefits of and mechanics of breastfeeding. I don't have an excuse for not breastfeeding Owen, so I'm doing it. But I realize I'm doing it begrudgingly. My nipples hurt a lot at first. I have clothes that I packed up and sent into storage because there's no way I can wear them this summer. It would be impossible to nurse in them. I have to bring my pump with me when I go on a date with my husband so I can pump in the car on the way home. It's a pain, but it's what's best for my son. I am determined to do things differently this time around, so I continue nursing. However, I can tell you right now I will not be an EBF-er. One year will be my cut off point. I love my son, but I also want my body back. Plus I want to be able to eat pizza, and lasagna, and ice cream again. :)
I Hate Breastfeeding!
I feel like this is something I'm not supposed to hate! So many people talk about how much they love it, but I'm just not feeling it. I breastfed Derek for 7 weeks, and gave up after bad information and formula supplementing depleted my milk supply to nothing. But deep down, I was relieved after I gave it up. I didn't have to worry anymore about wearing clothes I could nurse in easily. I didn't have to worry about sore nipples anymore. I didn't have to deal with engorgement after going on a date with my husband and missing a feeding. It was a little bit of a pain to carry around multiple bottles and formula when we went somewhere, but it was an small inconvenience I was willing to deal with. This time around, things are different. I have much better information. I am more educated about the benefits of and mechanics of breastfeeding. I don't have an excuse for not breastfeeding Owen, so I'm doing it. But I realize I'm doing it begrudgingly. My nipples hurt a lot at first. I have clothes that I packed up and sent into storage because there's no way I can wear them this summer. It would be impossible to nurse in them. I have to bring my pump with me when I go on a date with my husband so I can pump in the car on the way home. It's a pain, but it's what's best for my son. I am determined to do things differently this time around, so I continue nursing. However, I can tell you right now I will not be an EBF-er. One year will be my cut off point. I love my son, but I also want my body back. Plus I want to be able to eat pizza, and lasagna, and ice cream again. :)
Monday, December 13, 2010
Missing You...
It dawned on me today that it has been four very long years since we last saw all of our dear friends who live in South Carolina(/North Carolina). In my opinion this is far far too long. I think I'm actuely aware that I'm missing so much in their lives, and they're missing so much in mine right now. I have close friends from down there going through a very tough and uncertain time with one of their children right now, and I long to hug them and physicaly be present with them. I have dear friends who are experiencing one of God's greatest blessings right now with a pregnancy they didn't know if they would ever have. I wish I could hug them and sit and talk with her for a long time and comiserate pregnancies, and help assuage the inevitable worry that comes along with it. I have wonderful friends who have had two new babies since I saw them last, and the baby they had the last time time I saw them just turned four. She's not a baby anymore!! All of our youth group kids from LBC have grown up. Some are getting married, some are graduating from college soon, one has been to the other side of the world and back and is fighting for recovery in a Naval Hospital. There are so many more people that I miss. Even our alma mater campus has changed drastically in four years. I hate how when I look at our finances I wonder if we will ever be able to go back. I hate wondering if I am ever going to see these amazing people again. I'm thankful for facebook, but there comes a point when writing ((HUGS)) just doesn't cut it anymore. With a second baby on the way, i just don't know how we will do it. But I do know that we have to at some point Even if we have to save for the next couple years. We HAVE to get back down there. So, if my SC friends are reading this, know that I miss you all!!
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
I am Finished...
I have come to a point in my life where I am extremely discouraged with the terrible attitude displayed by others toward me lately. I have been judged to be a sub-par human by more people in the last 4 weeks than I have ever encountered in my twenty-six years of life. I am done. I will not stand for it any more. From now on, no one may tell me that I am a bad mother because my child sleeps in a crib. A crib is not "baby jail", a crib is not evil. A crib is not going to cause my child to die suddenly in their sleep. No one knows what causes SIDS. I will no longer tolerate being told I am terrible because of the choices I have made in the raising of my child. I will no longer be told that I can't take care of myself as a woman because I am a mother. I am both. I am a woman, and a mother. I am a mother and wife. Both relationships are important and I will spend time on both relationships. If that means leaving my toddler with a trusted babysitter for a few hours so my husband and I can go out, so be it. Do not judge me for taking care of my marriage.
I will no longer tolerate being gossiped about. The minute I hear of someone speaking ill of me or my family behind our backs, I will go to them and lovingly confront them as is exemplified in Matthew 18:15. If that is not received then I will react with following Matthew 18:16 and bringing another party in on it. And if that still is not received then I will go to the church with no hesitation. It's people from church doing it anyway, so hopefully it won't get to that point. But I cannot continue to live my life in fear of these people and what they might say.
I will no longer tolerate the attitude of believers towards one another. I will no longer allow it to be swept out of sight, but rather shine light on it so that the sin can be dealt with. When someone judges me based on my appearance (as happened last night when I was told I was not going to "get into heaven" because I have pierced ears), I will lovingly remind them that man looks at the outside of a person, but the Lord looks at the heart. (1 Samuel 16:7)
I will no longer respond to someone speaking in anger, but will rather encourage them to correct in love if it must be done. I will not grovel before people who are too immature to accept an adult's sincere apology. If they do not accept a sincere and godly apology then I will shake the dust off my feet and be done with them (while still loving and praying for them to come around).
I have reached the point where I cannot ignore these things any longer. Christians have HORRENDOUS attitudes, especially toward one another. It is disturbing to finally be in a place where I am seeing what the non Christians are talking about. I have never been in a place where Christians are so unloving toward one another. It is shocking, and it is heart breaking. Something must be done. That is why I am finished with looking the other direction while everyone eats each other for breakfast. To quote Derek's current favorite movie "I didn't come this far to be breakfast!" (Finding Nemo)
I will no longer tolerate being gossiped about. The minute I hear of someone speaking ill of me or my family behind our backs, I will go to them and lovingly confront them as is exemplified in Matthew 18:15. If that is not received then I will react with following Matthew 18:16 and bringing another party in on it. And if that still is not received then I will go to the church with no hesitation. It's people from church doing it anyway, so hopefully it won't get to that point. But I cannot continue to live my life in fear of these people and what they might say.
I will no longer tolerate the attitude of believers towards one another. I will no longer allow it to be swept out of sight, but rather shine light on it so that the sin can be dealt with. When someone judges me based on my appearance (as happened last night when I was told I was not going to "get into heaven" because I have pierced ears), I will lovingly remind them that man looks at the outside of a person, but the Lord looks at the heart. (1 Samuel 16:7)
I will no longer respond to someone speaking in anger, but will rather encourage them to correct in love if it must be done. I will not grovel before people who are too immature to accept an adult's sincere apology. If they do not accept a sincere and godly apology then I will shake the dust off my feet and be done with them (while still loving and praying for them to come around).
I have reached the point where I cannot ignore these things any longer. Christians have HORRENDOUS attitudes, especially toward one another. It is disturbing to finally be in a place where I am seeing what the non Christians are talking about. I have never been in a place where Christians are so unloving toward one another. It is shocking, and it is heart breaking. Something must be done. That is why I am finished with looking the other direction while everyone eats each other for breakfast. To quote Derek's current favorite movie "I didn't come this far to be breakfast!" (Finding Nemo)
Friday, September 24, 2010
Mild Vent
Very mild vent here....
Maybe I'm crazy, but when someone asks advice on wanting to buy a version of a particular object that doesn't cost "an arm and a leg", people shouldn't suggest the highest end version of that item that costs an arm and a leg!!!!!!!!! That's my opinion anyway. I'd pretty pretty mad if I was looking for a cheap plastic tupperware cup and people kept directing me toward the Swarovski Crystal champagne flutes.
Maybe I'm crazy, but when someone asks advice on wanting to buy a version of a particular object that doesn't cost "an arm and a leg", people shouldn't suggest the highest end version of that item that costs an arm and a leg!!!!!!!!! That's my opinion anyway. I'd pretty pretty mad if I was looking for a cheap plastic tupperware cup and people kept directing me toward the Swarovski Crystal champagne flutes.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
9/11 Remembered
It was a normal school day for me. I woke up at five thirty, showered, got dressed, left my house at six thirty. I picked up my friend Sarah. I can’t remember what we talked about as we drove to Eastview High School, but I’m pretty sure that it was normal teenage stuff. As we drove we listened to the morning show on the local top forty radio station. School starts at seven thirty. It was no different that day. Funny, I can’t even remember what my first hour class was. None of those details were important to me then, they are lost in the fog of time.
It’s interesting how some things are burned into our minds. There are moments when time slows down and you have all the time in the world to log each detail away so that you can remember it all your life. Those who remember Pearl Harbor know what I’m talking about. Those who remember President Kennedy’s assassination know what I’m talking about. During those moments you rarely know that your mind is actually locking those things into your memory. Usually the moment happens and you remember it forever without even realizing why.
I remember that my second hour class was AP Literature and Composition. I remember that my teacher’s name was Mr. Bayer and that he had a really casual teaching style that made his English class the most enjoyable English class I had ever taken in high school. I remember that the girl who sat next to me was named Katie, and that she was in color guard for the marching band. I remember that her boyfriend’s name was Cody because she talked about him all the time. I remember that I sat in the second row on the left hand side of the classroom as you look at it from the back. I remember that we were supposed to watch “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.”
My dad is an airline pilot. That has always made my life a little different. He was gone a lot when I was younger. People always looked at me with the same look that you would give a kid whose dad is in the military.
“Oh, that must have been hard for you.” People would say to me as I got older. The truth is that I never really thought about it. My dad was a pilot before I was born. I have never known anything different. Northwest Airlines, whom my father flies for, has their world headquarters in Eagan Minnesota which is, not coincidentally, where I grew up. That whole area is chuck full of airline families. All my friends in high school with the exception of two were from airline families. When I went off to college people would say things like “Oh wow, your dad’s a pilot?! That’s so cool! So do you, like get to fly for free?” Nobody said things like that in high school. They were all in the same boat as me. There was a mutual understanding among us. We talked smack about Northwest management when the pilots went on strike in 1998, and every time the mechanics went on strike we griped about how the CEO really didn’t know anything about his company. We talked about a lot of things having to do with the airline industry, but we never, ever talked about plane crashes. There is a solidarity among airline families. The same kind of solidarity you find among military families, and NASA families. The thing that airline families have in common with military families and NASA families is that we all know that at any moment, tragedy can strike. It never matters how safe flying is supposed to be, or how few accidents they’ve actually had in the space program, or whether your spouse was supposed to be a non combatant, there is always the knowledge in the back of your head that there is a possibility that when your family member leaves for work, he or she may not come home. You never talk about that possibility. You never think about that possibility. When I was in tenth grade I really, really liked this boy. I was convinced that I was going to marry him someday, as soon as he realized he loved me back. There was nothing that boy could do to make me stop liking him. At least, so I thought. When we were discussing flight plans for our summer missions trip with church, I asked what airline we would be flying. He cracked a joke about flying on Egypt Air. Earlier that month an Egypt Air flight had crashed shortly after take off. It was determined that it was pilot suicide. I hated that boy. I hated him with everything I had for that moment. (And for a while afterwards, until he finally apologized to me.) When TWA flight 800 blew up over the Atlantic, we were glued to the television. The reason is simple, we are a community, and we feel it when we lose a member of that community. The thing about the airline community is that when a plane goes down we don’t just lose one member of the community, we lose several. After it leaves the news, we never talk about it again. It’s not something we want to remember over and over again.
Everything that happened after that second hour class is vivid in my memory. I remember third hour Spanish and calling my mom and telling her that I wanted to go home. I remember Eastview High School going on lock down. I remember a girl named Maggie hysterically telling people that her mom was being forced to evacuate the IDS tower in downtown Minneapolis because “it was next.” I remember a fellow pilot’s daughter huddling next to her locker and telling me that her father was flying that day. I remember there being so much we didn’t know. I remember going home.
I wrote a poem for a scholarship about it. It was really good. It was too good. I never submitted it. I think I wanted to keep it especially for me. Every person had something about that day that they kept to themselves. I think everyone had to keep at least one thing to themselves because there were so many things we shared. American flags lined the streets of suburbia and every car had a “united we stand” bumper sticker. There were candlelight vigils and tributes to the heroic firefighters and police force members. There were bulletin boards covered in pictures of missing people and pictures on the news of their families crying as they pleaded for information about their loved one.
I remember Mr. Bayer turning on the television and turning off the lights in the classroom. I remember that in the split second it took for the video tape to register in the VCR we caught a glimpse of two buildings on fire. I remember thinking it was just a made for TV movie. Then, I remember seeing the CNN logo in the bottom corner. I remember the class shouting in unison, the same two words “GO BACK!!” I remember Mr. Bayer sinking into his chair as we watched unbelieving what was unfolding on the TV in front of us. I remember seeing the buildings fall. I remember the principal talking over the loudspeaker saying that school would remain in session, although teachers would be free to abandon their lessons and just watch the news all day. I remember the airline kids shooting terrified glances at each other. I remember thinking where is my dad? Is he flying? I remember calling my mom and finding out that he was safe at home. I remember waiting anxiously for the newscasters to tell us what airlines had been involved.
There were tributes to the pilots and flight attendants that died that day. But not until later. They seemed to us to be the forgotten victims. Then, we received stickers in the mail from the Airline Pilot Association. They said “we will not forget.” They are right. We won’t forget. I read in the newspaper about the husband of one of the flight attendants and how he rode his bike across the country to commemorate the life of his wife and the lives of her co-workers. There was a memorial put up to venerate the crew of United flight 93.
And me? I joined the ranks of those who would go on to be called the 9/11 generation. We now know what it’s like to be someone who remembers Pearl Harbor, or the Kennedy assassination. We know what it is to have a single moment in history burned into our eyes and ears, and for some of us, our noses as well. We know what it is to suddenly worry about our safety when we’ve never had to before. And, like two generations before us we know what it is like to feel overwhelmed with uncertainty about the future. We all know that someday, our children will ask us about that Tuesday morning, and we will help them write their history papers and projects about it. We will show them newspapers and video tapes of CNN and NBC broadcasts. They will ask us how it feels to remember such a pivotal event in our nation’s history. We will respond that we are not the first to experience it, and we will not be the last. Because, after all, history has a way of repeating itself.
It’s interesting how some things are burned into our minds. There are moments when time slows down and you have all the time in the world to log each detail away so that you can remember it all your life. Those who remember Pearl Harbor know what I’m talking about. Those who remember President Kennedy’s assassination know what I’m talking about. During those moments you rarely know that your mind is actually locking those things into your memory. Usually the moment happens and you remember it forever without even realizing why.
I remember that my second hour class was AP Literature and Composition. I remember that my teacher’s name was Mr. Bayer and that he had a really casual teaching style that made his English class the most enjoyable English class I had ever taken in high school. I remember that the girl who sat next to me was named Katie, and that she was in color guard for the marching band. I remember that her boyfriend’s name was Cody because she talked about him all the time. I remember that I sat in the second row on the left hand side of the classroom as you look at it from the back. I remember that we were supposed to watch “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.”
My dad is an airline pilot. That has always made my life a little different. He was gone a lot when I was younger. People always looked at me with the same look that you would give a kid whose dad is in the military.
“Oh, that must have been hard for you.” People would say to me as I got older. The truth is that I never really thought about it. My dad was a pilot before I was born. I have never known anything different. Northwest Airlines, whom my father flies for, has their world headquarters in Eagan Minnesota which is, not coincidentally, where I grew up. That whole area is chuck full of airline families. All my friends in high school with the exception of two were from airline families. When I went off to college people would say things like “Oh wow, your dad’s a pilot?! That’s so cool! So do you, like get to fly for free?” Nobody said things like that in high school. They were all in the same boat as me. There was a mutual understanding among us. We talked smack about Northwest management when the pilots went on strike in 1998, and every time the mechanics went on strike we griped about how the CEO really didn’t know anything about his company. We talked about a lot of things having to do with the airline industry, but we never, ever talked about plane crashes. There is a solidarity among airline families. The same kind of solidarity you find among military families, and NASA families. The thing that airline families have in common with military families and NASA families is that we all know that at any moment, tragedy can strike. It never matters how safe flying is supposed to be, or how few accidents they’ve actually had in the space program, or whether your spouse was supposed to be a non combatant, there is always the knowledge in the back of your head that there is a possibility that when your family member leaves for work, he or she may not come home. You never talk about that possibility. You never think about that possibility. When I was in tenth grade I really, really liked this boy. I was convinced that I was going to marry him someday, as soon as he realized he loved me back. There was nothing that boy could do to make me stop liking him. At least, so I thought. When we were discussing flight plans for our summer missions trip with church, I asked what airline we would be flying. He cracked a joke about flying on Egypt Air. Earlier that month an Egypt Air flight had crashed shortly after take off. It was determined that it was pilot suicide. I hated that boy. I hated him with everything I had for that moment. (And for a while afterwards, until he finally apologized to me.) When TWA flight 800 blew up over the Atlantic, we were glued to the television. The reason is simple, we are a community, and we feel it when we lose a member of that community. The thing about the airline community is that when a plane goes down we don’t just lose one member of the community, we lose several. After it leaves the news, we never talk about it again. It’s not something we want to remember over and over again.
Everything that happened after that second hour class is vivid in my memory. I remember third hour Spanish and calling my mom and telling her that I wanted to go home. I remember Eastview High School going on lock down. I remember a girl named Maggie hysterically telling people that her mom was being forced to evacuate the IDS tower in downtown Minneapolis because “it was next.” I remember a fellow pilot’s daughter huddling next to her locker and telling me that her father was flying that day. I remember there being so much we didn’t know. I remember going home.
I wrote a poem for a scholarship about it. It was really good. It was too good. I never submitted it. I think I wanted to keep it especially for me. Every person had something about that day that they kept to themselves. I think everyone had to keep at least one thing to themselves because there were so many things we shared. American flags lined the streets of suburbia and every car had a “united we stand” bumper sticker. There were candlelight vigils and tributes to the heroic firefighters and police force members. There were bulletin boards covered in pictures of missing people and pictures on the news of their families crying as they pleaded for information about their loved one.
I remember Mr. Bayer turning on the television and turning off the lights in the classroom. I remember that in the split second it took for the video tape to register in the VCR we caught a glimpse of two buildings on fire. I remember thinking it was just a made for TV movie. Then, I remember seeing the CNN logo in the bottom corner. I remember the class shouting in unison, the same two words “GO BACK!!” I remember Mr. Bayer sinking into his chair as we watched unbelieving what was unfolding on the TV in front of us. I remember seeing the buildings fall. I remember the principal talking over the loudspeaker saying that school would remain in session, although teachers would be free to abandon their lessons and just watch the news all day. I remember the airline kids shooting terrified glances at each other. I remember thinking where is my dad? Is he flying? I remember calling my mom and finding out that he was safe at home. I remember waiting anxiously for the newscasters to tell us what airlines had been involved.
There were tributes to the pilots and flight attendants that died that day. But not until later. They seemed to us to be the forgotten victims. Then, we received stickers in the mail from the Airline Pilot Association. They said “we will not forget.” They are right. We won’t forget. I read in the newspaper about the husband of one of the flight attendants and how he rode his bike across the country to commemorate the life of his wife and the lives of her co-workers. There was a memorial put up to venerate the crew of United flight 93.
And me? I joined the ranks of those who would go on to be called the 9/11 generation. We now know what it’s like to be someone who remembers Pearl Harbor, or the Kennedy assassination. We know what it is to have a single moment in history burned into our eyes and ears, and for some of us, our noses as well. We know what it is to suddenly worry about our safety when we’ve never had to before. And, like two generations before us we know what it is like to feel overwhelmed with uncertainty about the future. We all know that someday, our children will ask us about that Tuesday morning, and we will help them write their history papers and projects about it. We will show them newspapers and video tapes of CNN and NBC broadcasts. They will ask us how it feels to remember such a pivotal event in our nation’s history. We will respond that we are not the first to experience it, and we will not be the last. Because, after all, history has a way of repeating itself.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
So, tonight I'm going to do something I have never done on my blog. I'm going to complain for a minute. I'm going to complain because it will make me feel better. There is a purpose, it's not just complaining for the sake of complaining. Once I get this off my mind I will feel better and be able to go on with life.
Ok, here goes...
I was rear ended yesterday. And, frankly, I'm mad about it. Here's what I'm mad about, it should have never happened! I was doing everything right. I was at an intersection where the light was green. I was turning left so I was stopped, yielding to oncoming traffic. I had my blinker on. The pick up truck behind me just simply didn't see me, or so he said. Chances are he was texting or messing with his phone or the radio or reading something. Something distracted him because he had been behind me at the previous stoplight. He knew I was there, but he didn't see me slow down and stop to turn left?? Anyway, The car is crunched, and the appraiser hasn't been out to look at it yet, so we are in limbo with the car, and Derek's $300 Britax Advocate car seat is junk now because any time you get in an accident you have to toss the car seat. So today we trekked down to Wichita to buy a new car seat. (we borrowed one from a friend for the trip down there.) Only to find, of course, that we would be unable to purchase the same car seat as a replacement. Apparently the Advocates are only sold online, well we don't have time to wait around for them to ship one to us because we need it in 3 days to drive to the airport. We couldn't keep the one we borrowed for 2 weeks, so we were stuck. So, we bought a Boulevard instead. I'm mad about that too. Here's the deal, I did a lot of research on car seats before I bought the Advocate. The reason I chose the Advocate over the Boulevard is because of the side impact cushions. The Advocate has them, the Boulevard doesn't. I'm mad because I feel like now my son isn't as safe as he was in the other car seat. And, while this may seem petty, I'm mad that they didn't even have a good fabric pattern in the Boulevard. They had this color that they said was "tan" but it looked like newborn baby poop. And then they had this kinda navy blue colored one with beige designs on it, and trust me it's not as nice as it sounds. It's kinda strange looking actually. But, this one was definitely the lesser of the two evils. So, now we have an ugly car seat that doesn't have the same safety features as our last one all because some moron was too busy with something else to concentrate on driving. Lastly, I'm mad at him. He was nice at the scene (he better have been) he took the tongue lashing I gave him pretty well. The police gave him a couple tickets, which was nice. But I'm still mad. I have a crunched car and an ugly car seat and a ruined weekend, and he wasn't even in his own car. It was a company car! Grrrrr.
Ok, thanks for putting up with that. I'm done complaining now.
Ok, here goes...
I was rear ended yesterday. And, frankly, I'm mad about it. Here's what I'm mad about, it should have never happened! I was doing everything right. I was at an intersection where the light was green. I was turning left so I was stopped, yielding to oncoming traffic. I had my blinker on. The pick up truck behind me just simply didn't see me, or so he said. Chances are he was texting or messing with his phone or the radio or reading something. Something distracted him because he had been behind me at the previous stoplight. He knew I was there, but he didn't see me slow down and stop to turn left?? Anyway, The car is crunched, and the appraiser hasn't been out to look at it yet, so we are in limbo with the car, and Derek's $300 Britax Advocate car seat is junk now because any time you get in an accident you have to toss the car seat. So today we trekked down to Wichita to buy a new car seat. (we borrowed one from a friend for the trip down there.) Only to find, of course, that we would be unable to purchase the same car seat as a replacement. Apparently the Advocates are only sold online, well we don't have time to wait around for them to ship one to us because we need it in 3 days to drive to the airport. We couldn't keep the one we borrowed for 2 weeks, so we were stuck. So, we bought a Boulevard instead. I'm mad about that too. Here's the deal, I did a lot of research on car seats before I bought the Advocate. The reason I chose the Advocate over the Boulevard is because of the side impact cushions. The Advocate has them, the Boulevard doesn't. I'm mad because I feel like now my son isn't as safe as he was in the other car seat. And, while this may seem petty, I'm mad that they didn't even have a good fabric pattern in the Boulevard. They had this color that they said was "tan" but it looked like newborn baby poop. And then they had this kinda navy blue colored one with beige designs on it, and trust me it's not as nice as it sounds. It's kinda strange looking actually. But, this one was definitely the lesser of the two evils. So, now we have an ugly car seat that doesn't have the same safety features as our last one all because some moron was too busy with something else to concentrate on driving. Lastly, I'm mad at him. He was nice at the scene (he better have been) he took the tongue lashing I gave him pretty well. The police gave him a couple tickets, which was nice. But I'm still mad. I have a crunched car and an ugly car seat and a ruined weekend, and he wasn't even in his own car. It was a company car! Grrrrr.
Ok, thanks for putting up with that. I'm done complaining now.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Scripture Memory for Babies??
Nathan and I were discussing the other day an idea that has been on my mind for a while. I started thinking about it months ago when I ran across a friend of mine's child, about 3 years old, who could sing every single word to a popular secular song that was on the radio. My friend (who is a Christian) was very proud of her child. There was a video that went viral not long ago of a toddler boy singing to Beyonce's "Single Ladies" (you know the one where he melts down when his father tells him "you're not a single lady buddy"). And these experiences got me thinking. If our two and three year olds can sing the words to the secular songs we hear on the radio in the car (I'll talk about my opinion on that in a minute) why do we think they are too young to start memorizing Scripture?
Here's the deal. If you want your young child(ren) to learn Scripture from a young age, the key is music!! So, turn off the GARBAGE that is on secular radio (trust me on this guys. There is nothing good on it anyway. Any of you heard Usher's "OMG"? Case and Point.) just turn it off. Why are we pumping our kids' heads full of this crap? Why are they learning the lyrics to "Single Ladies"? Good grief people! Have you ever listened to the lyrics of these songs yourself? I'll tell you what, there is no way my son is gonna hear this stuff at his age or any other age that I control what is listened to in the car. Yuck. Instead, find some Scripture memory program that puts Scripture to music. I grew up listening to G.T. and the Halo Express. It's a series of 7 CD's (now a days. Back then they were cassette tapes!) that have a story and verses set to music to go with the story. I hadn't listened to G.T in years (up until Christmas of last year) and I could still sing you the verses I learned listening to it. I want that for my son. I want my son to learn Scripture and hide it in his heart. I want my son to get to be an adult and still know all the Scripture he learned as a little child. I want to be the kind of parent that points him toward God this way. So it's settled. Who's with me on this? Let's abandon the music of the world and trade it for Christ Centered music. Let's pump our children full of Scripture so that they can grow up wielding the Word of God which is sharper than a double edged sword. And while we're at it, let's learn some Scripture ourselves.
Here are a couple resources if you are interested in helping your children memorize Scripture:
G.T. and the Halo Express- www.gthalo.com
Children Desiring God, Fighter Verse Program- www.childrendesiringgod.org/resources/resource.php?id=2
Here's the deal. If you want your young child(ren) to learn Scripture from a young age, the key is music!! So, turn off the GARBAGE that is on secular radio (trust me on this guys. There is nothing good on it anyway. Any of you heard Usher's "OMG"? Case and Point.) just turn it off. Why are we pumping our kids' heads full of this crap? Why are they learning the lyrics to "Single Ladies"? Good grief people! Have you ever listened to the lyrics of these songs yourself? I'll tell you what, there is no way my son is gonna hear this stuff at his age or any other age that I control what is listened to in the car. Yuck. Instead, find some Scripture memory program that puts Scripture to music. I grew up listening to G.T. and the Halo Express. It's a series of 7 CD's (now a days. Back then they were cassette tapes!) that have a story and verses set to music to go with the story. I hadn't listened to G.T in years (up until Christmas of last year) and I could still sing you the verses I learned listening to it. I want that for my son. I want my son to learn Scripture and hide it in his heart. I want my son to get to be an adult and still know all the Scripture he learned as a little child. I want to be the kind of parent that points him toward God this way. So it's settled. Who's with me on this? Let's abandon the music of the world and trade it for Christ Centered music. Let's pump our children full of Scripture so that they can grow up wielding the Word of God which is sharper than a double edged sword. And while we're at it, let's learn some Scripture ourselves.
Here are a couple resources if you are interested in helping your children memorize Scripture:
G.T. and the Halo Express- www.gthalo.com
Children Desiring God, Fighter Verse Program- www.childrendesiringgod.org/resources/resource.php?id=2
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
A Bunch of Thoughts
I need to blog, but I don't have any one particular topic rolling around in my head, so I guess I'll just write down all the little snippets.
-I bought Derek a leash today. We are headed to an amusement park on Monday with the youth group, and after Derek threw fits about sitting in the stroller in the mall I figured he's not going to be any more inclined to sit in a stroller at an amusement park. Today I read on Facebook that leashes are "for lazy parents who don't exercise and can't keep up with their children." I walk 5 miles every single day. Believe me, I can keep up with my child. What I don't like are shrill screaming fits because he doesn't want to sit in the stroller, or him dropping to his knees every foot and a half because he's ticked that he has to hold my hand. Besides, when he holds my hand he has to hold his arm way up to reach me, and would you want to walk around with your arm in the air all day? I think not. So, I bought a leash. I think it makes me a responsible mother who wants to start teaching her son about freedom with limits. If you think it makes me lazy then I will gladly accept your criticism and say sweetly to my son right in front of you, "Awwwww Derek, look at the judgy lady(/man). Isn't she cute when she's being condescending? I can be adorable when I'm being condescending too!" Ok, I won't really say that, but I'll think it!
-We are going to Hawaii soon. I am so excited!!! I have a lot to do to get ready to go. Yikes!
-I read an article today from a natural parenting source (that I do respect mostly actually) about glucose testing. It said that glucose testing is ridiculous and that Gestational Diabetes is a crock of crap. Tell that to my two close friends who have had GD. Tell that to the one of them for whom it didn't go away after pregnancy. Tell her that GD is a load of nonsense. Sometimes I have to shake my head and move on to the next topic on that site.
-I love the Liberty Mutual Insurance commercials that show strangers doing random acts of kindness for each other. There should be more of that in the world, especially from Christians.
Ok, I'm out of thoughts for the night, but at least I put something on the page right? :)
-I bought Derek a leash today. We are headed to an amusement park on Monday with the youth group, and after Derek threw fits about sitting in the stroller in the mall I figured he's not going to be any more inclined to sit in a stroller at an amusement park. Today I read on Facebook that leashes are "for lazy parents who don't exercise and can't keep up with their children." I walk 5 miles every single day. Believe me, I can keep up with my child. What I don't like are shrill screaming fits because he doesn't want to sit in the stroller, or him dropping to his knees every foot and a half because he's ticked that he has to hold my hand. Besides, when he holds my hand he has to hold his arm way up to reach me, and would you want to walk around with your arm in the air all day? I think not. So, I bought a leash. I think it makes me a responsible mother who wants to start teaching her son about freedom with limits. If you think it makes me lazy then I will gladly accept your criticism and say sweetly to my son right in front of you, "Awwwww Derek, look at the judgy lady(/man). Isn't she cute when she's being condescending? I can be adorable when I'm being condescending too!" Ok, I won't really say that, but I'll think it!
-We are going to Hawaii soon. I am so excited!!! I have a lot to do to get ready to go. Yikes!
-I read an article today from a natural parenting source (that I do respect mostly actually) about glucose testing. It said that glucose testing is ridiculous and that Gestational Diabetes is a crock of crap. Tell that to my two close friends who have had GD. Tell that to the one of them for whom it didn't go away after pregnancy. Tell her that GD is a load of nonsense. Sometimes I have to shake my head and move on to the next topic on that site.
-I love the Liberty Mutual Insurance commercials that show strangers doing random acts of kindness for each other. There should be more of that in the world, especially from Christians.
Ok, I'm out of thoughts for the night, but at least I put something on the page right? :)
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Memorial Day
So, Memorial Day tomorrow has me thinking about my grandparents. My mom's parents were amazing. I have such awesome memories of them. Fishing off my grandpa's boat and eating lunch on the dock. Grandma pressing a $20 into my little hand before we left for the airport and whispering "don't tell your mother!" with a smile on her face. The basket on the coffee table that was ALWAYS filled with candy. Not the nasty hard candy either, the good stuff like peanut butter Twix and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and mini Nestle Crunch bars. Yum! The house that was always warm and in the old days smelled like cigarette smoke, and in the latter days smelled just faintly like the smoke but more like the roast in the rotisserie oven. Even the TV always being on is a fun memory. It was the only time we were allowed to watch TV all day, and CABLE at that!! :) I remember the bed in the middle room. The middle room used to be a dining room in the compartmentalized style of those little saltbox houses. It still had a dining room table in it, but it was never used. The bed in there was one of the most comfortable beds I've ever slept on. And, I could see the TV from the door at the end of the bed that was always open a crack. As a kid I would lay at the opposite end of the bed and watch it until I was too tired to watch anymore. :) There were trophy fish mounted on the walls. There was a pretty little (ok, not so little, but in comparison with some of the others it was) blue fish that I wish I had. For some reason I liked that fish. It was my favorite. I loved lunches from Wegman's that Grandma would go with us to get. She would always make sure we got to Bill Gray's and Abbott's. SUPER YUM! I remember her saying at Abbott's "forget my diabetes! I'm having some frozen yogurt!" Haha! I remember Grandpa's huge metal belt buckles with deer or fish on them. He would always forget to take them off at the airport and would set the metal detector off. I remember the way he would say "hi honey!" to me and my sister. They were the same words Grandma would say but said totally different. I remember the flat feeling in my heart the day I was told Grandpa had lung cancer. It was not a surprise, he had been a heavy smoker, but it was horrible nonetheless. I remember the last time I saw him. Spring break (March??) 1999. I was 15. I wanted to go to Florida and was mad I had to be in New York. I will never fully forgive myself for that. The cancer was spreading and he was sometimes not in his right mind. I remember talking about going to Wegman's for lunch and him saying "Barbecue? We're having barbecue??" And Grandma, lol, just went off; "We're not having barbecue!! Who said anything about barbecue? Nobody said anything about barbecue!" We had to laugh or we would cry. We still laugh about it. I remember the day I found out he died. I was at school. Mom and Dad didn't call me to tell me. I happened to call after school to ask a question and pulled it out of Dad. I cried in the bathroom for 20 minutes. I'm sure people thought I was crazy or something. I don't remember much about Grandpa's funeral. I remember thinking that his casket was so "him". I remember the internment being so final. I remember Grandma looking frantically for Aunt Sandy who's headstone had been accidentally covered by the green fake turf carpet spread over the opening of Grandpa's grave. We pulled back the carpet so Grandma could see her oldest daughter, and could be assured Grandpa was being buried in the right place. I remember how three years after Grandpa died, Grandma got on a plane for the first time in many many years and flew out to see me graduate from high school. It was June 2002. It was so precious. When it was time for her to leave the ticketing agent at the airport asked me if I wanted a special pass so I could accompany her to the gate. (This was after 9/11 so the rules had changed.) I got to go to the gate with her and sit with her until they boarded her onto the plane. Just her and me time. She pressed a $20 into my hand as they were wheeling her away and advised "don't tell your mother." :) 5 months later Dad called me at college to tell me she had passed suddenly. The tears came freely. They still do when I think about it. So did the words "I see the Lord seated on the throne, exalted. And, the train of His robe fills the temple with glory!" I thought that is what Grandma is seeing right now!! How blessed is she! I also barely remember Grandma's funeral. I remember "Old Rugged Cross." The song still brings tears to my eyes. I remember the rain the next day during the internment. It was very fitting. I remember pulling back the green carpet to make sure Aunt Sandy and Grandpa were there and that we were burying her in the right place. It's what she would have wanted done. I wish I could go this year and lay flowers on their graves. Oh how I miss them. They would have loved Nathan. They would have adored Derek. They would have pressed $20's into his little hand and told him not to tell me. They would have kissed his little dimples. He would have called them grandma great and grandpa great. Someday he will see them in heaven I am convinced of it. But for now he will hear stories about them so that he will know that they lived and that they were loved by their oldest granddaughter. They were both World War II vets, but that is not how I remember them. This is how I remember them, how I will always remember them.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Upset Tonight...
I am upset tonight. I am upset that a person that our family cares about is hurting and the person who is hurting her doesn't care. I am upset that the hurt person is just a kid and the person hurting her is an adult and should know better. I am upset that the adult can't see past their own selfish sin enough to give a crap about anything. I am upset that no one is doing ANYTHING about it. I am upset that I have to pretend to be nice to this adult because I am not in the position to say anything when I know about the rampant unrepentant sin going on. I am upset and I hope I don't see this adult any time soon because nothing that will come out of my mouth will be nice.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
What I am Afraid of...
I attended the Bethlehem Baptist Women's Conference this weekend. Let me first say that I am so very very grateful to my husband for agreeing to spend the weekend with Derek so that I could fly to Minnesota for this conference. What a blessing you are to me, Love!
The theme of the conference this year was "You are Mine... do you believe it?" It was about fear. I blogged a little while ago about my fear regarding having another child. The question was posed to us, "what are you afraid of?" Here is my lengthy list:
- I am afraid of tornadoes
-I am afraid of potatoes that have grown roots (don't ask it's weird I know)
-I am afraid of spiders
-I am afraid of change
- I am afraid of the unknown
-I am afraid of failure
-I am afraid that I am inadequate in terms of being a wife, a mother, and a child of God
-I am afraid of being alone
-I am afraid of my own sinful nature and the pull that it has on my life
-I am afraid of spiritual attacks from the evil one and the father of lies that cause fear.
Some of these are pretty trivial in the grand scheme of things. Tornadoes are certainly cause to be afraid, but spiders? Really? And how about those potatoes with roots? I mean come on! But the others are deep fears rooted in sin. Here is how I combat those fears.
Speak the truth to counteract the lies that cause the fears. The best way to do this is to continually speak Scripture to yourself. This is why Scripture memorization is so important. Some of my favorite "fear" verses are as follows:
Psalms 56:3 "When I am afraid I will trust in you."
Isaiah 41:10 "Fear not for I am with you, be not dismayed for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand."
2 Thessalonians 3:3 "But the Lord is faithful and He will strengthen and protect you from the evil one."
John 14:27 "Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."
Hebrews 13:6 "So we say with confidence, 'the Lord is my Helper, I will not be afraid; what can man do to me?'"
Joshua 1:9 "Have I not commanded you be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified do not be discouraged for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."
Psalm 27:1 "The is my Light, and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?"
There are so many more verses I could give but these are some of my favorites. I use them to speak truth to myself when I am afraid.
-When I am afraid of change: "Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." John 14:27
- When I am afraid of the unknown: "Have I not commanded you be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified, do not be discouraged for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9
-When I am afraid of failure: "So we say with confidence, 'the Lord is my helper I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?'" Hebrews 13:6
-When I m afraid of being inadequate: "The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life of whom shall I be afraid?" Psalm 27:1
-When I am afraid of being alone: "So do not fear for I am with you, be not dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:10
-When I am afraid of my sinful nature: "When I am afraid I will trust in You." Psalm 56:3
-When I am afraid of spiritual attack: "But the Lord is faithful and He will strengthen and protect you from the evil one." 2 Thessalonians 3:3
The truth of Scripture trumps all fear. So thank you Lord, for being a God of faithfulness who gives your children the courage to overcome their fears. Thank you for winning the battle so that when we meet you in Heaven there will be no more fear!
Friday, April 9, 2010
Fear
Ok, I'm just gonna come right out and say it. I'm afraid. Maybe I should start at the beginning....
One of my besties who actually lives in the same state as me (few and far between these days) is pregnant with their second child. Their first is a month younger than Derek. I am SOOOOO stinking happy for them!!! Her DH asked Nathan about a week after they found out when we were thinking of having another baby. Nathan very wisely answered "not for a while." Now since my friend and I were pregnant together the first time her being pregnant without me got me thinking about why I don't feel ready to have another baby. I've come up with all sorts of good reasons.
Derek is only 14 months. I mean come on! I don't want them THAT close together.
Life is just starting to get REALLY good with Derek, I'm not sure I want to bring a newborn in yet.
I hated the newborn stage. Not in a hurry to do that again.
But the main reason is this: I'm afraid. I'm afraid to lose this awesome stage that I am at with Derek. I'm afraid of losing my bond with him. I'm afraid I won't be able to love a new baby as much as I love Derek. If having Derek changed my life this much how much more will a new baby change stuff. I don't like change. There are times when I yearn for my pre-child life, and I hate those times because I know I would never trade in my sweet son for ANY of that old life... but still sometimes I remember how easy life used to be. Will I long for my one child days when I have two? Is that fair to my children???? I don't know. I have a tendency to fear the unknown. So there you have it folks; the real reason I am in no hurry to add to our little family of three. Now, please don't ask me about it! :)
One of my besties who actually lives in the same state as me (few and far between these days) is pregnant with their second child. Their first is a month younger than Derek. I am SOOOOO stinking happy for them!!! Her DH asked Nathan about a week after they found out when we were thinking of having another baby. Nathan very wisely answered "not for a while." Now since my friend and I were pregnant together the first time her being pregnant without me got me thinking about why I don't feel ready to have another baby. I've come up with all sorts of good reasons.
Derek is only 14 months. I mean come on! I don't want them THAT close together.
Life is just starting to get REALLY good with Derek, I'm not sure I want to bring a newborn in yet.
I hated the newborn stage. Not in a hurry to do that again.
But the main reason is this: I'm afraid. I'm afraid to lose this awesome stage that I am at with Derek. I'm afraid of losing my bond with him. I'm afraid I won't be able to love a new baby as much as I love Derek. If having Derek changed my life this much how much more will a new baby change stuff. I don't like change. There are times when I yearn for my pre-child life, and I hate those times because I know I would never trade in my sweet son for ANY of that old life... but still sometimes I remember how easy life used to be. Will I long for my one child days when I have two? Is that fair to my children???? I don't know. I have a tendency to fear the unknown. So there you have it folks; the real reason I am in no hurry to add to our little family of three. Now, please don't ask me about it! :)
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Dear Drivers,
Dear Drivers in the small town I live in,
I just want to clear the air so that you all can stop giving me dirty looks while we are driving. I am a city driver. This means that when the light turns green, and I am turning left, I will inch into the intersection. I am not cutting you off. I am ensureing that I will be able to turn on this light just in case you are slow. I do not stop at yield signs unless there is a reason to. If I have a yield sign and there is a car coming, fair enough I need to stop. But if there is no traffic, I will not be stopping. So there's no use honking at me from behind and gesturing wildly at the sign. It is not a stop sign and I haven't done anything wrong. You shouldn't stop either unless there is traffic to yield to. Just because I am from the city does not mean I come equipped with x-ray vision. A blind intersection is still a blind intersection to me. When I come up to the intersection I will stop a little back or creep just a little forward to see around the obstacle. Again, there is no need to honk at me from behind if I stop a little back. I'd like to see any oncoming traffic so as not to endanger my life or the life of my child. Thanks. There's no need to honk at me if my nose creeps out a little either. I am not stupid. I will not just pull out into an intersection when I can't see. And if perchance I don't see you and start to go, and then I do see you and stop suddenly, there's no need to slow down in 10 mph just so you can be sure to give the dirtiest look possible. I saw you, I stopped. Keep going. Nothing to get upset about. And finally, when I'm backing out of a parking space and you come around the corner and I see you and stop, then PLEASE don't honk at me. YOu weren't there, then you were and I stopped. It just makes you a jerk to honk at me after I'm already stopped and waiting for you.
Thanks for your understanding,
Sarah
I just want to clear the air so that you all can stop giving me dirty looks while we are driving. I am a city driver. This means that when the light turns green, and I am turning left, I will inch into the intersection. I am not cutting you off. I am ensureing that I will be able to turn on this light just in case you are slow. I do not stop at yield signs unless there is a reason to. If I have a yield sign and there is a car coming, fair enough I need to stop. But if there is no traffic, I will not be stopping. So there's no use honking at me from behind and gesturing wildly at the sign. It is not a stop sign and I haven't done anything wrong. You shouldn't stop either unless there is traffic to yield to. Just because I am from the city does not mean I come equipped with x-ray vision. A blind intersection is still a blind intersection to me. When I come up to the intersection I will stop a little back or creep just a little forward to see around the obstacle. Again, there is no need to honk at me from behind if I stop a little back. I'd like to see any oncoming traffic so as not to endanger my life or the life of my child. Thanks. There's no need to honk at me if my nose creeps out a little either. I am not stupid. I will not just pull out into an intersection when I can't see. And if perchance I don't see you and start to go, and then I do see you and stop suddenly, there's no need to slow down in 10 mph just so you can be sure to give the dirtiest look possible. I saw you, I stopped. Keep going. Nothing to get upset about. And finally, when I'm backing out of a parking space and you come around the corner and I see you and stop, then PLEASE don't honk at me. YOu weren't there, then you were and I stopped. It just makes you a jerk to honk at me after I'm already stopped and waiting for you.
Thanks for your understanding,
Sarah
Friday, March 5, 2010
Joy
Nathan mentioned to me this morning that he read on a friend's facebook status a quote that sid something along the lines of "people who are only living for adventure and thrill in life need to realize that following Jesus is the greatest adventure of all." or something like that. You know basically what I'm talking about. Anyone who has been a Christian for any amount of time has heard something like that before. The thing I hate about sayings like this is that they imply that life is all about thrill and adventure seeking. I tend to be a person that lives for thrills. Not the skydiving, bungee jumping, extreme hiking thrill; but the thrill of something to look forward to in a day. Going out to dinner or going to the park. I love being able to look forward to hanging out with friends, or a big event that's not too far away. There's nothing I hate more than waking up in the morning to discover that I have nothing on my calendar. Days spent cooped up at home with a 13 month old are less than enjoyable for me. Plus, when I spend the day at home that means I have no excuse not to do the dreaded house work. Days spent at home are a drudgery for me. This shouldn't be!!!! Proverbs 31 describes the house wife as a woman who does the work cheerfully. And the housework really isn't bad at all compared to the days I spent woring at the hotel. (Ugh!) So, where is my joy? Why am I only looking for joy in the here and now and not in the eternal. Parenting my son is eternal, being a good wife to my husband is eteranl. Going out to dinner isn't.
"Oh Lord, focus my mind and heart on You so that I may be eternally minded. Help me to find joy in the everyday life I live, and let my heart be cheerful and pleasing to You!"
"Oh Lord, focus my mind and heart on You so that I may be eternally minded. Help me to find joy in the everyday life I live, and let my heart be cheerful and pleasing to You!"
Monday, December 7, 2009
Statistics are Scary 1
90% of the pastors report working between 55 to 75 hours per week
This statistic really hits home for me. Nathan has been working in the ministry for... well, ever since I've known him, but really working (i.e. getting paid to do it) for almost 5 years. At first it wasn't so bad. He worked normal hours at a large church and was the Assistant Youth Pastor so he didn't have the same responsibilities the head youth pastor did. We were newly married and I worked with the youth group as well, so when he was at church, I was at church mostly and when I wasn't I was either working or enjoying some alone time at home. Then we went into ministry together at Silver Birch Ranch in Wisconsin. We went into that knowing it was going to be a 24/7 job for a whole school year. It was VERY stressful, but we were in it together. Then, we moved again and Nathan started working at a para-church youth outreach organization. That was when it was difficult. I was also working full time at the hotel, and I left for work at 8am and some days I didn't see Nathan until the next morning. I had to be in bed by 10pm to get up on time for work, and on program nights Nathan often didn't get home until after 11pm. Add small group on Wednesday and his second job on Monday and Friday nights, and it became so that we never saw each other at all.
The problem with pastors working this much is that it affects their family life and their own mental well being. A pastor's first ministry is always to his family. A pastor who cannot shepherd his family has no business shepherding a church. This means occasionally he needs to put aside things that may need his attention at work (yes for the pastor church is work) and be at home with his family. He needs to forget about the problems of the congregation member who just spent an hour in his office, and listen to the needs of his wife. He needs to carve out allotted time for sermon preparation and when that time is up leave it and be with his children.
The pastor also needs to realize that he needs time away from work for his own well being. Ministry is demanding even with boundaries. To have no boundaries will inevitably lead to burn out. Once burn out occurs it can take a long time to repair the damage.
This statistic really hits home for me. Nathan has been working in the ministry for... well, ever since I've known him, but really working (i.e. getting paid to do it) for almost 5 years. At first it wasn't so bad. He worked normal hours at a large church and was the Assistant Youth Pastor so he didn't have the same responsibilities the head youth pastor did. We were newly married and I worked with the youth group as well, so when he was at church, I was at church mostly and when I wasn't I was either working or enjoying some alone time at home. Then we went into ministry together at Silver Birch Ranch in Wisconsin. We went into that knowing it was going to be a 24/7 job for a whole school year. It was VERY stressful, but we were in it together. Then, we moved again and Nathan started working at a para-church youth outreach organization. That was when it was difficult. I was also working full time at the hotel, and I left for work at 8am and some days I didn't see Nathan until the next morning. I had to be in bed by 10pm to get up on time for work, and on program nights Nathan often didn't get home until after 11pm. Add small group on Wednesday and his second job on Monday and Friday nights, and it became so that we never saw each other at all.
The problem with pastors working this much is that it affects their family life and their own mental well being. A pastor's first ministry is always to his family. A pastor who cannot shepherd his family has no business shepherding a church. This means occasionally he needs to put aside things that may need his attention at work (yes for the pastor church is work) and be at home with his family. He needs to forget about the problems of the congregation member who just spent an hour in his office, and listen to the needs of his wife. He needs to carve out allotted time for sermon preparation and when that time is up leave it and be with his children.
The pastor also needs to realize that he needs time away from work for his own well being. Ministry is demanding even with boundaries. To have no boundaries will inevitably lead to burn out. Once burn out occurs it can take a long time to repair the damage.
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