A Pledge for A New Year

I will remember that no lost hope and no jaded attitude can erase all the good that we do.

I will endeavor to embrace the size of my thighs.

I will spend less time worrying about how I look and more time focusing on how I make others feel.

I will challenge myself and others to make a difference in the lives of those who have the least.

I will spend less time channel surfing, but not feel guilty about watching television that really does make me feel good.

I will find a place to put my keys where I will always be able to find them. (this one is a stretch)

I will go see more movies in the theater.

I will throw out, give away or otherwise recycle about one-quarter of the stuff that is taking up room in my home.

I will pray and play more. Sometimes I might even do both at the same time.

I will continue to take seriously the call to share the word of God with those who enter the doors of the First Presbyterian Church of NLR, while never taking myself too seriously in the process.

All of these things I sincerely pledge for the year 2010

A House Like No Other

My sister-in-law Beth was trying to think of something my 8-year-old (who have traveled the world) hasn't seen, and she certainly scored. Just up the road from their home, in the next town of Torrington is a Christmas House you really have to see to believe.

The Christmas House

The house is open free of charge to the public. They take donations, but do not charge a fee. The paint on the house is peeling and the owner is missing several teeth, yet there is no telling what the collection is worth. It is indescribable. From case after case of Coca Cola Santa merchandise to a railroad Christmas village that fills a space as big as my dining room to a gi-normous collection of moving dolls holding candles. If you're in CT next year around Christmas, fit this in to your schedule!

Also, for those of you heading to the movies over the Christmas break and wondering if you can make it through the whole film without a bathroom break, check out www.runpee.com. You can look up the movie you're going to see and it will tell you the best time to go without missing much. Who has WAY too much time on their hands? Or have they stumbled upon a brilliant service that will attract enough advertisers to allow them to spend the rest of their lives at the movies?

A Christmas Eve Message

If you're planning to be at the First Presbyterian Church in NLR Argenta tonight, you might want to hold off on reading this. But if not, read on. Merry Christmas!

Nine weeks ago when I started at this church, we were meeting in the Fellowship Hall because our heating system in the sanctuary was broken. We just assumed that we would be in Fellowship Hall for Christmas Eve. We didn’t know that people would begin to come out of the woodwork to help. Volunteering to play music. Coming out on a moment’s notice to mend leaky roofs and prop up rotting walls. Replacing light bulbs and working on wiring. Buying a new heating system for the church because we’ve been out of our sanctuary long enough. We knew that God was at work here. We just didn’t know God was going to work so fast through so many people.

Because we didn’t know we would be here, you’ll notice that our service has no traditional Christmas pageant. So tonight, as it is with most things around here, everyone will have to pitch in. We’ll all have to play all the parts.

Tonight, we are all the shepherd, startled to hear the good news of the angels, but eager to go and see for ourselves.

We are Mary, aware that somehow God is using us to accomplish things too big to imagine.

We are Joseph, not understanding fully that which God calls us to do, but following as faithfully as we can.

We are the innkeeper, busy and frazzled, but making some room, somehow, for God to be born.

We are the Wisemen, on a journey of discovery, bearing our gifts to be given to glorify God.

And yes, we are the angel, proclaiming in our own lives, the glorious good news that God has come into the world, and we shall never be the same.

But perhaps you’re thinking that you don’t feel like taking on any role tonight—much less all of them. Because you’ve had a hard year. Maybe this year has just about knocked you flat. And maybe the Christmas season has only served to intensify your pain, to shine a light on your brokenness, to magnify your loneliness.

If you’re just too sad or too angry or in too much pain, then you don’t get a part. You are going to have to direct. You are in charge of the whole thing. It is you who must lead this Christmas. If you are feeling too resentful or too disappointed or simply too exhausted for Christmas this year, then it is you who must sing the loudest. You are the one who should fling the tinsel on the tree, and call everyone in from off of the street to come and celebrate.

Because it is unto you that a Savior is born this night. Jesus came for the heartbroken and the hopeless, for the downtrodden and the depressed, for the busted and the broken, for the fearful and the faithless.

So if you don’t feel like being Mary or Joseph or the shepherd or the angel, you must draw the rest of us in. So that everyone will know that God sends light into the dark corners of our lives. That in lonely and cold moments, God bursts forth with a message of good news.

I believe in Christmas. I believe in the power of the love of God come down to earth. It is a story in which we all must participate. A miracle we cannot afford to miss.



This message was inspired by the prayers of Ann Weems and Peter K. Perry

Is Christmas the Key?

Dr. David Lipschitz is a nationally-known expert on geriatrics, and he's right here in Arkansas. His column that ran today in our paper is one of the best I have ever read on why we should all embrace the true meaning of Christmas. How great is God to use a Jewish expert on aging to remind people of all ages why the values and virtues we claim to embrace at Christmas time are what will make us healthy and whole? Pretty cool.

Prolong Your Life with the True Message of Christmas


And, as a side note, today in my in-box, I had messages from Amazon.com, Amazon.de, and Amazon.co.uk that today is the last day to order for guaranteed Christmas delivery. Christmas consumer messages from three different countries.

Sanctuary Ready to Go

After about 25 people gathered for about 3 hours yesterday morning and another 15 stayed after worship today to help move things back in to the sanctuary (like the communion table, baptismal font, Advent wreath), I think we are ready for Christmas Eve.

It will be the first worship service in the sanctuary in almost two years. The long-time members of the church are just positively giddy! Although, several are a little worn out as they have been working hard to get the church spruced up for its debut.

On December 26, we will be feature in the religion section of the Arkansas Dem-Gaz. Good things just keep happening. Hope we can keep up with it all. My brain is positively frazzled. Am hoping to re-group after Christmas Eve.

Running Through Advent

I didn't mean to do it. I really didn't. I thought I had it all under control. Ready for a slow, peaceful, holy kind of Advent. But somehow it all swarmed on me. It swarmed with almost entirely good things, but it swarmed nonetheless.

The late-breaking news that we will be in our sanctuary for Christmas Eve, requiring a whole different take on the service with only two weeks to make those changes, which include finding musicians, liturgists and piano tuners.

The Christmas cards that I don't really have an updated address list for.

The baking requirements for my daughter's class and other events in addition to the annual baking of the German stollen.

The family we adopted (and had SO much fun shopping for) whose gifts I still have to wrap

It's all been good, but I am 10 sleeps away from Christmas Day and absolutely exhausted. So I'm already giving some thought to how to do things differently next year.

1. Though handmade gifts are very special, often cost less and show that you took the time to create something unique for the recipient, if I go this route next year, I will begin in July, not November.

2. I'm taking a cue from colleague in ministry Robert Lowery and not buying anything during Advent next year. Gift buying and creating will have to be done in the weeks and months prior. Though, Robert doesn't have any kids, and my kid might throw a kink into that plan.

3. Because I insist on sending Christmas cards and love the chance to remember and pray for all the people on my list, I will get that list together and updated well before Halloween.

4. I will block off time on my calendar for baking and not try to cram one of my favorite parts of the holidays into short slots of time.

5. Next year I will not host any parties. I will not host any parties. I will not host any parties. Is that Scroogey? Because I still want people to invite me to theirs.

6. The one thing I have gotten right this Advent is plenty of exercise, and I hope to continue that commitment into next year all the way through to Advent 2010.

I'm going to use the excuse of still getting settled back in the US and taking on a new job as to why I've let it all get out of hand this year. Next year, I want to do better. I want to have time to soak up the holy and marinate in the wonder of it all.

But now, as thoughts of Mary and her Magnificat and what I have to say about that on Sunday drift through my head, I'm going to crash until morning.

Fun Things I Have Recently Learned

Did you know that Barnes and Noble has the new service called Pick Me Up? When you find a book you want, you can choose the pick-me-up option to see if the store closest to you has it in stock. Then they will hold it for you and you can pick it up there and save not only shipping charges but a wasted trip to the store if they didn't have it. Cool!

Did you know that you can get podcasts of NPR's This American Life, Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me, Fresh Air and other shows for free and download them to your I-Pod or MP3 player? I never do housework anymore unless I'm plugged in listening to Ira Glass or Carl Castle.

Check out the Painted Prayer Book and The Advent Door, both blogs by artist Jan Richardson. Great stuff!

Good Magazine has a great Web site. This is a magazine my Dad got me a subscription to a couple of years back. But now they have this really fabulous on-line presence with lots of news of every day people who are making the world better and great ideas on what we all can do to make the world better. It's a feel-good site to visit.

In a recent study of couples who had separated, 58 percent of the men said they were happier after the separation. Eighty-five percent of the women said that they were happier. Think twice, men. Your chance of of post-separation bliss is a little iffy.

Watching Our Water Consumption

This is a great little video with some tips on how we can use less water each day. When it comes to the environment, the little things each of us do every day really do add up to make a big difference. I like that. There's something synergistic and collaborative about it.

I Give!

Half the Christmas tree lights have gone out--for the second time. Maddie says not to worry about it. It looks unique. No one else has a Christmas tree like that. I'm going with her assessment.

I had to borrow my parents' vacuum cleaner because ours only makes noise now. It doesn't actually suck up anything. And people are coming to the house tomorrow and the floors have stuff on them that needs to be sucked up.

Spent two hours making cookies with Maddie for an open house we're having tomorrow where Maddie will be selling her own special design of earrings. I am plum wore out.

BUT the First Presbyterian Church of North Little Rock is planning to be back in the sanctuary for Christmas Eve after over an 18-month exile to the fellowship hall. Thanks to a very generous donor who has ordered us our very own working heating unit. You never know who might might turn out to be a Christmas angel. There is a lot of clean up to be done in a very large room that has been shut up for almost two years. We'll be busting out Bessie (our very powerful vacuum), the Murphy's Oil Soap and a case of Swiffer dusters.

I better come up with a really good Christmas Eve message. But then, can one really have a bad Christmas Eve message? I'll think about that more tomorrow. I'm headed to bed.

What If God really is at work?

That's what I've been telling everyone. That God is doing something at the First Presbyterian Church in North Little Rock. And I thought I really believed that, until events began unfolding that make it clear that God really IS at work there. And it has shocked the daylights out of me!

A Different Kind of Christmas Carol

Prepare ye the way of the Lord. That’s what her preacher had said. That’s what she was trying to do this Advent season. She desperately wanted to prepare her heart to receive the peace of Christ. God knew she could use some peace.

Carol was a single mom trying to raise two kids. Her husband bailed after the second child was born prematurely and had some developmental problems. The doctors couldn’t guarantee she would turn out to be “normal” and he couldn’t handle it. Ironically, her youngest did turn out to be just fine—a happy 11-year-old with a “B” average and an addiction to instant messaging on the computer.

Carol used to love Christmas. Her father once told her that the Christmas “Carols” were sung just for her, and years after she stopped believing him, she loved pretending it was true. She knew the words to all of them. But this year, she just didn’t feel much like singing.

There was a store that she walked by on the way to work everyday that had a window full of nativity scenes. There was one that she always paused to look at. It was too expensive for her to purchase, and she wondered if it might still be there and go on sale after Christmas. Then she always felt a little guilty waiting for a bargain Jesus. It was the kind that just had Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus. None of the shepherds or wisemen or barn animals. Just the family. The baby is sleeping and Mary is looking down at him. Her face the picture of calm and peace.

Working full time and trying to raise two precocious girls who were determined to grow up as fast as they could didn’t bring a lot of peace to Carol. She was hoping to find some this Christmas. This year, she was really wanting something more from Christmas. Though her life wasn’t bad, things really hadn’t turned out the way she thought they would. Life seemed a little hollow—as if there was something deep in her core that needed to be filled. She was hoping and praying that Christmas would bring her what she yearned for this year.

She wanted to Prepare the Way for the Lord, but she honestly couldn’t find the time. She got up early enough for a short power walk to help preserve her waistline and her sanity. Then it was always chaos for three females to get ready and out the door by 8 a.m. Her work day sailed with lunch usually being a sandwich at her desk. And then by the time she got home, fixed dinner, helped with homework, got the girls to bed and threw a load of whites in the laundry, all she wanted to do was collapse in a heap. She didn’t even have time to pray. When on earth this the preacher (who didn’t have any children) think she was going to do all this preparation?

But every day when she passed by that store, she paused to look at that nativity scene—it was her very own Christmas story. She imagined that Silent Night when Christ was born. She imagined how miraculous that night must have been and she longed for the peace she saw in Mary’s eyes.

One day as she was passing the store front to look at her nativity scene she was shocked and disappointed to see that it was gone. Guess she wouldn’t be buying it on the after Christmas sales after all. But in its place was a very different kind of scene. This one had the shepherds and the sheep and a donkey and a cow and even the three wisemen. Baby Jesus was not asleep, but his feet and arms were waving in the air and Joseph was leaned over as if speaking to Mary whose head was thrown back like she was laughing.

“What on earth was she laughing about?” thought Carol. Then it hit her. Mary was laughing at the absurdity of it all. Two people, far away from home, birthing their first child—a child that they had on good authority was actually God—birthing him in a barn among the livestock. One would have to either laugh or cry—and this Mary had chosen to laugh.

Then Carol realized that there was nothing “silent” about that night. It was loud and dirty and uncomfortable and painful and, yes…chaotic. Nobody was at all prepared for Jesus that first Christmas, yet he came anyway. He burst onto the scene screaming and messy and hungry. Carol’s hectic schedule seemed like a cake walk compared to what must have gone on in Bethlehem that first Christmas.

If Jesus could enter the world in such an unexpected and unlikely way, surely he could make his way into her wacky world. She had her very own epiphany right in front of the Hallmark store.

So that year, to prepare for Advent, she became the laughing Mary.

When the work package that just absolutely positively had to get there overnight went to Tucson instead of Boston, she ran some damage control and then she tossed back her head and laughed.

When she fell into bitter moods over being left to raise two daughters alone, she smiled because she, and she alone, knew the joy of being a parent to those two wonderful creatures she called daughters.

When the disposal and the dishwasher broke on the same day, she laughed because it couldn’t get worse, and then the next day when the dryer broke, she laughed at her own naivete.

When she heard her two daughters unpacking the Christmas decorations and her youngest cried out—“Mom, Sara hid the baby Jesus. Tell her she can’t have him. Jesus is for all of us.” She laughed, because she knew that truer words had never been spoken.


And then in the midst of all that laughter, a funny thing happened. Not funny, ha ha. But funny, odd. Funny wonderful.

Somehow, the mornings seemed easier. And she didn’t feel exhausted by nightfall. There was not only time to pray, but the prayers seemed to bubble up from inside of her. They came with no effort at all. And there was no part of her body, her soul, or her life that seemed hollow.

Several years ago she had let each of the girls choose their favorite food to have for Christmas dinner. So that Christmas Eve after church when she and the girls sat down to their traditional dinner of pizza and Cheetos, every part of her felt whole.

Her life was loud, messy, uncomfortable, painful and chaotic. She was totally prepared for the coming of the Christ child. After all, her life was just the kind of place where Jesus feels at home.

The Stories of Our Tree

Our family has accumulated so many Christmas ornaments that we might have to add another tree next year. We don't ever have a themed tree or even a very elegant one, but it always looks fabulous to us. It is filled with memories of friends and family and places we've been. This year, it is nice to be home and able to enjoy it for the entire month of December.



For several years, my friend Eric owned a home store and carried fabulous Christmas ornaments. Many of the ones on my tree (and on my friend's trees) came from there.



This dates back to my child hood. It's part of the stash Mom and Dad sent with me when I had my first apartment and put up my own tree. Eyeore is somewhere on the tree, too, but he's missing an eye.



After we visited Paris and found this ornament, we began to make a point of picking up a Christmas ornament wherever we traveled in Europe. We have ones from England, Scotland, Ireland, Austria, Germany, France and Czech Republic. Somehow we missed getting one in Italy. Guess we'll have to go back!



At the church where I grew up, we had Advent Workshops every year. All the Sunday School rooms got turned in to little workshops to make gifts of ornaments, food and other items, like Advent Wreaths. This ornament was made at one of these events and dates back at least 30 years. it is a clothespin replica of a Westminster Presby choir member.




Since Maddie was born, Mom has been collecting ornaments that represent the things she was interested in the previous year. Here are Bob and Larry from Veggie Tales. There are also Care Bears, Disney Princesses, Blues Clues, Strawberry Shortcake and Madeleine ornaments.




For many years now, friends Olivia and Leigh Ann and I have been exchanging ornaments at Christmas time. They always pick great ones. This one came from O in 2003.



When I was in high school and college and beyond, my mom would give me a musical themed ornament each year. The baby grand piano recently lost a leg, but bass playing Santa is holding up well.



When we lived in Boston, there was a Dunkin Donuts on every corner. When I was pregnant with Maddie, hardly a day went by that I did not have a small hazelnut, black coffee with a chocolate covered donut. No wonder I gained 60 pounds! Oddly enough, since she was born, my donut cravings completely disappeared. I rarely have them anymore, even when they are out and available at church or a meeting. But I still miss that Dunkin Donuts coffee. And no, the stuff you buy in the store just isn't quite same.



One of our favorite things about London--the double decker bus!



My husband's hometown of Brookfield, Connecticut puts out a commemorative ornament each year depicting a building or landmark in the town. Each year, his parents give him one and we have about 10 or 12 on the tree.


Here's hoping you have a tree filled with memories as well. And, if not, this year might be a great time to start one.

The Dream of the Table

I wrote this several years ago for Thanksgiving, so I thought I'd post it today.

Today, a dream will be lived out across this great country.

There is a gigantic table, with countless people sitting at it and eating together: women and men, children and adults, healthy and frail, poor and rich, black folks and white folks and yellow folks. An investment banker from New York is seated next to a truck stop waitress from Montana. An Iowa farmer exchanges stories with a New England fisherman. A bearded professor from Berkeley passes the gravy to an auto mechanic from the Deep South. A young soldier laughs at a joke an old lady tells him.


We dream this dream for a single afternoon each year as we gather around the Thanksgiving Day table. For it seems then that our entire nation offers a single prayer and sits down to a single meal. Indeed Thanksgiving is the most universally celebrated holiday in our nation. The dinner is shared in the homes of the wealthy, the middle class, and the poor. It takes place in soup kitchens and suburban restaurants, and happens with studied formality and with casual folksiness. It feels as though all our people eat together today. On this one afternoon, we dream, however fitfully, "The Dream of the Table." And for a moment we see what God wants for us and for all people.

Yet the sad thing is that Thanksgiving Day is but one day, and the rest of the years seems different, somehow. The dream remains a dream. The world does not normally appear as a dinner where all people share, and all people feast, and all people give thanks. Not all share, for some have plenty and some have none. Not all feast, for some throw food out and others die from hunger. Not all give thanks, for some cannot see past their wealth and others cannot see past their poverty. The dream remains a dream. It seems insubstantial. And so on Thanksgiving Day we seek consolation in yet another helping or in too long a time spent in front of the television.

What great barriers keep the dream from becoming real? What prevents us from taking our places at the table, and helping others find their own places?

The dream is interrupted because we don’t believe in the promises of God. We don’t believe in the Bible.

Now I’m not talking about whether or not you believe that the Bible is literal or figurative or allegory. I’m talking about not believing that the Bible is true—the true story of God’s action in this world. The true story of God’s promises. The true story of promises kept.
Our dream of the great table is not realized year-round because we stake our claim on the promises of the world rather than on the promises of God.
The world tells us there will never be enough and we must grab all we can. God promises abundance and calls us to share all we can.

The world tells us we are entitled to whatever it is we want. God assures us that what we have are blessings from God.

The world tells us life is a burden. God grants life as a gift.

The world tells us to trust people who are part of the established order. Jesus reached out to those who lived on the fringes.

What makes the table a distant dream is that we choose not to trust in the promises of God. Lack of trust prevents us from sharing. It causes us to cling tight to what is ours and to focus our energies on getting more. And when we do receive a miracle like the lepers in our scripture today, our lack of trust causes us to run off to celebrate without every pausing to say “thank you.” After all, don’t we deserve to be whole.? Don’t we deserve whatever it is we get?

But as we cling to what is ours, as we smugly claim entitlement, as we take more than we give, we find ourselves anxious and alone and far, far away from the table.

Thanksgiving is here. Once again, we experience that haunting dream of the universal table where all people share, and feast, and give thanks. Will the dream come true for us this year? Will we, in reality, find our places at the table, and help others find theirs?

Will be the ones who feel entitled to whatever comes our way, or will we be the ones to stop, turn and offer thanks for the gift of life? Will we be the ones who shun the lepers, the outcasts, the broken, the poor, the addicted, or will we be the ones who stretch out our hands to offer acceptance, healing and wholeness? Will the table we gather round on a daily basis be an open one or a closed one?

The choice is ours.

Be Like Tofu

Tofu gets a bad rap. Most people turn up their nose at the sound of the word, but I’d wager most people don’t even know what it is! Everyone has heard of it, every grocery store sells it, and whether you know it or not, you’ve probably eaten it (especially if you frequent Chinese restaurants). What is this strange, yet ever-present substance?

As cheese is to milk, so tofu is to the soybean. As a cow gives milk, so does a soybean give soymilk. As animal milk is separated into curds and whey in the production of cheese, so soymilk is separated into curds and whey to form tofu. The remarkable thing about tofu is that it takes on the flavor of whatever it’s mixed with. Soft tofu can be blended to create sweet treats. Firm tofu can be marinated, sautéed and baked for a savory dish. In fact, unlike most foods, the more you do to tofu, the better it tastes.

So as Thanksgiving approaches, and we officially kick off the holiday season, let's be like tofu. We can take on the flavor of whatever we’re mixed with. We can choose to blend into the consumer frenzy of the season and wear ourselves out trying to find the perfect gift for everyone in our lives. We can opt to baste in the Martha Stewart mandate to create perfectly decorated homes, multitudes of baked goods and flawless fowl dinners. We can simmer in the Santa Claus saturated media version of the holidays.

Or, we can choose to marinate in the spirit of the season. We can bake in the abundance of Thanksgiving and in the Good News of the birth of Christ. We can simmer in good deeds toward all God’s creatures. We can be seasoned with prayer and promise. We can bubble over with joy.

This holiday season, we are like tofu. We can be whatever we want to be. Choose your flavor.

The Monday Before Thanksgiving

Thought I would post the link to the above-titled short film on the day for which it is named. It's about 20 minutes long, but when you have a chance, take a look. It's a great lesson for all of us who think that everyone needs the same things we do. And it celebrates and affirms the choice to be single.

The Monday Before Thanksgiving

Good News For Us All

Shane Claiborne made Equire Magazine's best and brightest of 2009. He is one of my personal heroes. Here is his article. There may be hope for the church, yet.

Letter to Non-Believers

We're gonna make it after all

When we lived in Germany, Maddie and I used to sing the Mary Tyler Moore theme walking down the street. I started singing it again this week. She's been out of school since Tuesday, but was only really sick for two days. But having your kid spike a fever that wouldn't be brought down by medicine the day after you visit a friend's child in the ICU unit is a little scarier than it normally would be. And as I am on day four of staying at home with a sick kid, my patience is stretched pretty thin.

Of course, both mother and husband are out of town this week. Thank goodness for my dad who could run errands for us in the evening. When I got Maddie's prescription, she felt so rotten that I just dropped of the order and Dad went to pick it up and brought it to the house. I feel so bad for those parents who don't have ANY support system and have to sit in Walgreens for half-an-hour or more with their sick, feverish kids just to get the medicine they need. Dad was also great with the smoothie delivery--which was just the ticket for a kid with strep.

This was going to be such a productive week for me. Husband gone, so no cooking and one less person to pick up after (amazing how clean our bathroom stays when only one of us is using it!). Daughter in school all week. Plenty of time to get house in order, lay out plans for Advent, get my office at church organized, eat healthily and exercise every day. Oh, well. Best laid plans.

Now there are just two days of school before Thanksgiving break. I think Maddie and her dad will be spending some quality time together over the break while I catch up on all the things I meant to get done this week!

Am ready to do some holiday cooking and baking with all the ingredients I need for whatever I want to prepare all available at my local grocery store.

A Talking on the Phone Day

Spent a part of my day on the phone doing some community organizing (I'm not a real community organizer, but may start to play one at the corner of 4th and Maple) bringing together the owners of a home who are applying for a re-zoning permit in order to house a rental office out of the first floor, members of the church and members of the business community. There is concern about the kind of traffic this business will generate, so we're all going to get together and try to work things out at the church in about a week.

Another part of my day was spent on the phone discussing the Baker Bazaar, the school's big December fundraiser. Each class makes something and then sells it in this big market held at a local Methodist Church. Our class is making decoupaged light switch and electric outlet covers. Guess who gets to buy the materials and help teach the kids how to make them? A little decoupage time may be just what I need right about now.

The part of the day that about did me in was my trip up to Children's Hospital's ICU to see friends from college whose son has severe pneumonia from H1N1 complications. They are holding up much better than I would be. I wonder how heavy a dose of tranquilizers they would have to give me if Maddie ever ends up in the ICU. And then, of course, they'd have to double that for Skip. I'm going back to check on my friends on Wednesday with magazines and crosswords in hand. Prayers for the Randolph family are appreciated. This was also the cause for many phone calls today to let other friends from college who are here in town know what's going on. Fortunately, there are a lot of Centenary College class of 91,92,93 around these parts, so hopefully we can be helpful during the time they have to be here.

I am so thankful for my kid today for a number of reasons. Not the least of which is the fact that she let me off the hook from the Baker Elementary Thanksgiving lunch and didn't even know it. I've done one lunch at her elementary school where parents and friends are invited, and it is such madness! Crowded and loud and hot. I was so not looking forward to a repeat, and I was going to have to shuffle some things at church to make it. She just came to me on Saturay and said, "Mom, I don't even like what they're serving for that lunch and it's always so crowded. Could you just come and have lunch with me on Monday instead?" I love this kid! I picked up Sonic for both of us and went up to school and we had 20 minutes to sit and eat and visit. I'm going to do that more often. It was a lot of fun. And it didn't involve the phone.

Evil Forces and Entrepreneurs

"There are forces loose in this land that threaten to rip and tear asunder the very fabric of this republic." --Senator John McClellan.

There were definitely forces loose in the church and its immediate vicinity in the two hours that led up to worship today. By the time I got up to welcome everyone, I was completely frazzled and rung out. Following worship was a lunch and a session meeting, so I didn't even make it home until almost 4 p.m. That's when Skip called wondering why I hadn't responded to any of his text messages. I told him that I really couldn't even begin to get into it, but I was glad he arrived in London safely. I collapsed in the recliner for about 45 minutes, then got up to make dinner and help Maddie with her latest entreprenurial endeavor.

When she started going door to door selling the earrings and charms she made (like disappearing from the house with her box of goodies and cold calling the neighbors), we figured we had to do something. So I took this as a "teaching moment" opportunity. Now Maddie (in partnership with her mom) has her own Etsy page. Etsy is an on-line marketplace for handmade items. She has had to come up with pricing based on the cost of materials as well as the time she spends. She is definitely pricing to sell, but she knows she has to make enough to buy more supplies to make more jewelry. She has only posted a few items so far, but I told her to start slow and build. She's also come up with ideas of things for ME to make and sell, so we'll see how that goes. Maybe after Christmas.

Maddie's Shop

Check back often. There will be new items every week. Sure beats a paper route.

Back to Life, Back to Reality

Ahh, the back to real life and home where the counters haven't been wiped down or the floors vacuumed all week. I told my husband that the next time I'm gone, we'll have to have a refresher course in basic home care. I had to fix all the meals myself today and fresh, clean towels were not neatly folded up on a cart down the hall. Bummer.

My shoulder "injury" or whatever it is has reared it's ugly head again. I'm not ready for a chronic problem just yet. Surely such things would be decent enough to wait until after my 40th birthday. Wouldn't you think?

I need to get a little focused. Too many creative things to dive into right now. Advent planning. Holiday baking preparations. Something I'm writing that I'd really like to finish. A sewing project I want to try involving a pair of jeans my kid has outgrown. Finding a way to make a little extra money for the holidays. Some knitting--something about the cold weather always makes me want to start knitting again.

Plus there's all that non-creative stuff that has to be dealt with, too. Laundry. Church maintenance issues. Pledge drive. Food preparation. Re-tuning my guitar that has been tuned to open-G because I left my other guitar at Ferncliff and didn't want to drive back out there to get it today.

I just finished a video proposal for money from the Committee for Congregational Care and Development. I've got to get it approved by the session tomorrow at our meeting before sending it on, but any feedback would be appreciated.

Encouraged

It's not very often that I feel encouraged about the future of the PCUSA, but after spending a week with the staff of our camps and conferences around the country, I feel like maybe we can be saved. A group of people with a real heart for mission and evangelism who look for new and creative ways to share the Gospel with kids and adults. And, yes! They were all Presbyterians.

Getting to spend time with J. Herbert Nelson, founding pastor of the Liberation Presbyterian Church in Memphis has also been great. Very thankful to have made that connection.

We capped off our last worship with a visit from the Gloryland Pastor's Choir. They know how to do church! They came to Ferncliff last summer to do a choir camp and tonight we took up an offering to help fund camp for them this year.



Must head back into real life tomorrow. Re-entry is always tough after a week at camp!

The Stuff They Skip in the History Books

The keynote speaker at the conference this week is Rev. J. Herbert Nelson. Rev. Nelson grew up in Orangeburg, South Carolina and in one of his keynotes he told us about being a young child at the time of the Orangeburg Massacre. I had never heard of it. If you haven't either, you need to check out the story.

Orangeburg Massacre




I find it really curious that this incident has just kind of slipped out of our history.

Long, long, good, good day

A very tiring, worship-filled day. Will sleep well tonight.

Let worship at First Church this morning. Great song offered up by Art Hymel to kick off worship. Am hoping that God will send us some more musicians soon. I feel a little all-Anne-all-the-time right now. I would love to plan worship and then just sit back until it was time to preach and let others take the lead. My husband did a great job as liturgist, and we have others who are really good lay leaders, so we're getting there.

Then out to Ferncliff where it took about 10 people, two computers and three projectors to get my worship plans to project on the screen. That was a little wearing. Worship was a little nutty, but it went well overall. Can't write anymore tonight. Have got to hit the hay.

A David Sedaris Kind of Evening

I just experienced a series of events that felt like they came right out of a David Sedaris essay. So I tried to write it up as he would have, but it reads better if you imagine his voice saying it.

So I took my daughter, along with a friend and her daughter, to see Little House on the Prarie—the Musical. Starring Melissa Gilbert as Ma. It was entertaining, not spectacular, but entertaining. The girl who played Lara looked about 15, but her bio said she has a BFA from Carnegie Melon, so I’m guessing she’s more like 25. She had a powerful voice that made me wonder if she wasn’t the dark-haired love child of Kristen Chenoweth. I’m sure it played well in Peoria, but the whole thing might have been a little more impressive had Ms. Gilbert been as good of a singer as her castmates.

I don't imagine the play will go on to be a classic as none of the songs could be sung independently of the play. Every song's lyrics tied it specifically to the plot line. There was no ballad that could be sung at weddings or funerals. No show stopper that will be picked up next season on an episode of "Glee". No numbers that pageant contestants will be working up for upcoming competitions. Nothing that could have a life of its own.

After the play, we got into my friend’s car and both our children were complaining of hunger in a way that made it sound like they were dying. My response was, “Don’t make me beat you.” But my friend is a kinder and gentler soul, and she suggested we drive through Starbucks. I wondered what kind of coffee her eight-year-old would want, until she asked, "You girls want some cookies?"

I told her that I didn’t think the Starbucks in Little Rock stayed open this late. It was 10:30, but she decided to take her chances in the drive-thru. As she rolled down her window, a cheery male voice came over the speaker. “Thank you for choosing Starbucks. Unfortunately, we’re closed now, but we’ll re-open at 5:30 in the morning.”

What? Did he think we might sit there at the drive-thru until the sun came up and we could score a triple-shot mocha latte? Did he think that we wanted whatever we were going to order so badly that we would be back the moment the doors opened again?

We then went on to McDonalds, which was open and had a four-car line at the drive-thru. This must be where the post-theater crowd hangs out in Little Rock. After asking the girls if they would share a McFlurry and not wanting to drag out the argument over which kind to get, we decided they could each have their own. I was still leaning toward the beating, but I wasn’t driving.

My friend placed the order and the lady told her that the ice cream machine was down. Apparently, the machine automatically shuts off at 11:30 every night so that it is cooled down before the midnight close. It was only 10:30, but the machine had not fallen back last weekend when daylight savings time ended. Perhaps the coffee machine should have called to remind it. I guess there will be no ice cream after 10:30 in downtown until we spring forward again.

So then my friend asked about cookies. The lady said, “We have cookies, but probably not the kind you’re thinking about.” “What kind am I thinking about,” asked my friend. “You probably want those good chocolate chip cookies they have at the Burger King,” said the voice. “but all we got is those boxes with the little cookies.”

“I don’t want cookies,” says one of the kids from the back seat.

“Do you have apple pies?” my friend asks, in what I hope is a last ditch effort.

Yes! They had the pies. Both kids wanted pies. Nobody had to be beaten.

Ahhh, to be able to practice what one preaches

My house is a wreck. I've got overdue library books I can't find. There is a pile of laundry that needs to be put away. The refrigerator is almost empty. I've to three more days until I'm supposed to lead worship at a conference for Presby camp folks and my daughter will be out of school for all of them. Also, there's that whole Sunday morning worship thing to prepare for. Please God, send us a piano player soon! I may be teetering on the edge of a major panic attack or some sort of hysterical episode.

I was just fine tuning a draft of a message I started writing about two weeks ago and I had to stop and give myself a great big eye roll when I got to this part:

Take a Sabbath from anxiety by the realization that you can’t fix everything, nothing will ever be enough and the world is not dependant on you. Take a Sabbath from anxiety by acknowledging that all we need is available to us from God.

Did I really write that? And is anybody going to listen to me when I don't even listen to me? I think I have a little inner-work to do before I can be authentic in my presentation.

Spaghetti Supper and Pumpkin Fudge Recipe

Spaghetti supper at church was a huge success. Over $1000 dollars raised. That will help pay the bill for the work that kept the wall from collapsing! The spaghetti was good, but the desserts were the big hit. People really outdid themselves. My mom made this fabulous banana pudding that the people working in the kitchen were holding back to make sure it didn't run out before they could have some. Our treasurer made some great cobbler. Friends Jim and Glen brought this ooey, gooey, chocolate cake, that I actually heard someone moan over as they ate it. And I brought the pumpkin fudge.

I've taken this dessert to two different places and it has received rave reviews. It really is yummy. Here is the recipe, adapted slightly from Southern Living's.

3 cups sugar
3/4 cup melted butter
2/3 cup evaporated milk
1/2 cup canned pumpkin
2 tablespoons corn syrup
2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice
1 (12-ounce) package white chocolate morsels
1 3/4 cup mini-marshmallows
1 cup chopped pecans, toasted (optional)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract


Stir together first 6 ingredients over medium-high heat, and cook, stirring constantly, until mixture comes to a boil. Cook, stirring constantly, until a candy thermometer registers 234° (soft-ball stage) or for about 12 minutes. Seriously, you need to stir constantly.

Remove pan from heat; stir in remaining ingredients until well blended (I find the white chocolate morsels don't melt all the way unless you chop them up first, but it is also good with some small white chocolate chunks in it). Pour into a greased aluminum foil-lined 9-inch square pan. Let stand 2 hours or until completely cool; cut fudge into squares. Don't make this unless you have somewhere to share it. It makes a lot and there is danger is having it in your home.

Not a Joke

This is Palm Beach Sugar Daddy Ken. It will be available to you in April of 2010. Seriously.

I am currently resting my injured shoulder (have no idea how it became injured) on nice squishy ice pack. A friend of mine who is an OT gave me the "ice pack recipe". You put 1 cup rubbing alcohol and 3 cups water into a gallon-sized ziploc bag. It will get as cold as a regular ice pack, but the alcohol keeps the mixture from freezing solid and it conforms to the shape of whatever body part you need iced. So much more comfy than the cubes.

Hoping to be able to sleep better tonight. Hopefully, the ice, ibuprofen, stretching regimen will help ease the pain. Am having newfound empathy for people who deal with chronic pain. After just over two days with this pain, I'm kind of a wreck. My thinking and coping skills are somewhat (some might say severely) compromised. Folks who deal with it every day for an indefinite amount of time are made of stronger stuff than me.

Happy Halloween

So my husband went with some of the other neighborhood dads to take the kids trick-or-treating while I stayed home to dole out the candy. Our neighborhood is a popular destination for Halloween. We have sidewalks and well-lit streets, so it's a great place to bring your kids. We only had a handful this year with no costumes, the rest were fun to see--until we ran out of candy. Maddie and a friend came back to our house to check out their stash. I was disappointed that Junior Mints and York Peppermint Patties did not make a showing in my daughter's treat bag this year. I always get those since she does not like mint flavored anything.

While I was handing out candy, I was listening to last week's "This American Life" from NPR via podcast, and I've never been so scared in my life. The first part of the program was about the "hell house" that is run every October by a church in Cedar Hill, Texas. I was beyond appalled and am pretty sure I'm going to have nightmares about it tonight. While I would never claim to be a Biblical scholar, I did go to seminary, and I'm pretty sure that Jesus never tried to frighten anyone into following him.

So, in spite of the fact that the roof leaks and the HVAC unit in the sanctuary is out and money is short, I'm more determined than ever to make First Pres in downtown NLR work. Not only do we need to reach people who have never had a church, we need to reach people who have been scarred by places like Cedar Hill.

But Halloween or not, this is the best night of the year. We get an extra hour of sleep. Don't forget to fall back. Wonder how many people will show up early for church tomorrow.

At Least a Wall Didn't Collapse

We made it just in time. At the church, there has been water bouncing off an awning and onto a window (with close to 100-year-old panes) and dripping down into the wall. Apparently there has been concern for awhile that the windows might break because of this water damage, but little did they know that the wall could have collapsed all together. After removing the ancient windows (none broken so far!), the able crew, under the direction of master carpenter David Murray, dug out enough rotted wood to fill the back of a pick-up truck. At one point, some brick from the exterior of the building crumbled and fell on one of the workers, who was, mercifully, uninjured. At some point, we need to get storm windows put on the outside to protect this antique glass, but that will have to come later.





If it is possible that one can spend too much time thinking about worship, I have done it this week. Between planning for Sunday worship and preparing worship leader at a conference in about a week-and-a-half, I am up to my ears in liturgy and power point presentations. I've got both my guitars out (tuned to different keys), a stack of books piled high next to my favorite chair and long shopping list of stuff I need to purchase (including gluten free bread) before next Sunday. I may be all out of creative thoughts until at least the beginning of next year.

I am a little worn out from the ups and downs of new church development. Presbytery may say it's a redevelopment, but it's really a new church in an old building. There is no infrastructure. No computer. No printer. A very worn out copier. No mailing list. No pledge drive in at least three years. No long distance service on the phone. There is wireless internet and very cool people (artists and musicians) who rent space at the church. And an ever-growing pool of people who are potential church members. The only indication that it is not a new church is one of our members who refuses to wear a name tag because she's been a member of the church for 65 years and everyone should know her name. Other than that, it's pretty much a clean slate.


This is the banner at the top of the argentanews.com blog. Our second annual spaghetti supper is coming up. This is the kind of great press you get in a community full of artists.

Fall Fun Weekend

Fun weekend of fall festivals and pumpkin carving parties. Rained all week last week and looks to do the same this week, but the weekend was gorgeous. Because I have way more to do than I can say grace over, I decided to try a new recipe. I made this fabulous pumpkin fudge that is my new favorite thing. So I took it all to the pumpkin carving party on a paper plate and left it! It is a dangerous thing indeed.

Am up to my ears in worship! Between the new church and being worship leader for a conference that is coming up, I've got songs and prayers and sermons and poems filling up and spilling out of my brain. After church was over yesterday, I declared a worship-free day just to try and clear my head a little.

Speaking of worship, I have to poke just a little fun at this. A friend of mine goes to Church at Rock Creek, and I just found out that they offer an express worship service for people who can only spare 30 minutes a week for church. You sing two songs, have a prayer and get a shortened version of the sermon. It's like the Reader's Digest version of church. I know it's one of the biggest churches in town, so they're clearly doing something right, but I'm still going to laugh about the Express Worship.

Just an update on the Ms. Tatum (who has a number of names that she uses). She showed up during worship on Sunday wanting to talk to the pastor. She's done this at Grace before and I think the plan is to get money from church members who just don't want her disrupting the service. Our folks weren't biting and told her she could wait for the pastor. When service was finished, she was gone. She did, however, call today and our church secretary passed along her number to me. She used a completely different name this time. A new one I had not heard before. As she started in on her tale of woe, I stopped her and told her that I simply didn't believe her stories and we would not be helping her with money. I expected to be yelled and/or cursed at, but she just said, "Alright then." And hung up. If only I had done that years ago!

Busy Week Expanded

I have discovered that Monday house chores are much less dreary when I download the weekend's editions of "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" and "The News from Lake Wobegon" on my I-pod. They are free podcasts, so I have it set up to automatically download every week. It gives me about an hour-and-a-half of stuff to listen to while working around the house. Then I switch over to music.

When you need to increase worship attendance weekly in order to get a church back up and running, there is a bit of pressure on the sermonizing. In a normal church setting, one can expect that the preacher will have off Sundays or some sermons that are better than others. But when you really need everyone who comes for the first time to want to come back again, and you really don't have a music program, and you're worshipping in a fellowship hall, you better have a really killer sermon...every time. But when I start to feel the pressure, I remind myself that I really do believe that God has plans for this church in this community at this time and that it really isn't all on me.

My best news this week was a response from someone I had invited to church. A former camper of mine told me he'll be out of town this week, but relayed that when he told a friend that I was trying to get him back in church, the friend said that he had heard there was a younger woman preacher at that church and that people were really excited about it. Did you catch the "younger" part?

Am loving my extended community of pastor friends and Christian educators who have been great about sharing ideas about evangelism and worship and grant seeking. The Internet is a great thing.

Got to try the Jambalaya yesterday. One of the local restaurants in Argenta has a cook that makes a different soup or stew each week and he only does the jambalaya about once a month. One of our church members who rents studio space in the church gets an alert on her cell when the jambalaya is ready. I've been struggling with sinus problems all week and I believe that cleared it all up.

Am also getting ready to be the worship leader for PCCCA conference in about two weeks. I am not ready and need to get so quickly!

Busy Week

Have not blogged at all this week. It is nine p.m. and I am the last member of my family to go to sleep tonight. I figure it will take me about two minutes after I shut down this computer. Church is getting good buzz. Husband survived major presentation. Daughter thinks the church is cool and like hanging out there. Good week. Long week, but good week. More later.

Jesus and Argenta

Jesus of Argenta

Great first Sunday at First Church in NLR. We had 50 people, which I think is more than double the usual attendance. Great support from the community and from friends. There's a lot of excitement brewing. I guess we'll see just how much when it's time to turn in pledge cards!

So far, all seems well, in spite of the fact that I've totally changed the worship service and style there. The congregation is worshipping in the fellowship hall because we can't afford to replace the busted heating and air conditioning unit (yet!). And the people who have been keeping the church alive are used to gathering around a couple of tables and drinking coffee and visiting until time for a very informal worship service. Now, we've ditched all the tables, faced the room in a different direction and brought in pews and benches. No one fainted or pitched a fit, so I think we're going to be okay.

The painting was done by artist and elder Sherrie Shepherd to go along with the sermon series, "The Jesus You Should Know." It's awesome!

After a worship service, a potluck and a session meeting, I am plum wore out! Tomorrow I take a break from working on First Church stuff, but will spend the whole day working on worship for the upcoming PCCCA (Presby Christian Camps and Conference Association) conference. Wonder when the laundry will get done? I need elves.

Only in Arkansas

could you have a non-alcoholic event celebrating German heritage, but Lutheran High has apparently been doing it for years. When Maddie heard that we were going to an Oktoberfest where they didn't serve beer, she said, "Well, that's not right." It was a pleasant, well-run little festival and fundraiser for the school, but it wasn't very German. The wiener dog race was pretty funny, though.

Tomorrow is my first Sunday at the new church. Should be fun. Should be interesting. Hope everyone else who gathers for worship feels the same way.

Have I Paid Too Much At the Fair?

Holy Cow! I had no idea. I'm not even sure I've ever been to the Arkansas State Fair, so I just didn't know. Between the parking, the entrance fees and ride fees and the food, how in the world do all those people who were there afford to be there? And we didn't even let Maddie play any games. Do people save up for this?

Our daughter has gotten daring all of sudden when it comes to rides and she seemed up for anything today. My husband and I went back and forth between being excited that she is no longer so afraid and being scared out of our minds that she got on some of those rides. She had so much fun, I almost forgot about how much money we spent. And when that didn't work, I tried to pacify myself with the notion that the money provides jobs at a time when so many need all the work they can get. A radio station was handing out large stickers, saying, "We have staff people giving out money to people they see wearing our stickers." While Skip said, "No thank you." I took one and placed in very prominently on my person, convinced that I would be the recipient of a large amount of cash at any time. Didn't happen.

There was much food to be had. We couldn't roll with the fried coke or the fried Twinkies or the fried butter. We stuck with the classics--french fries and fried green tomatoes. My favorite "food picture" was a guy walking down the middle of the fairway with his pot belly hanging out of the bottom of his polo shirt with chili-cheese fries in one hand and a giant pickle in the other. Wish I could have caught that one on film.

We let a great chance pass us by. The rain has made sure that all the vendors in the Hall of Industry have had a rotten week. Skip and I have talked for awhile about getting a sauna to put in the backyard. It's a "someday" thing. Like people talk about having a vacation home or a boat "someday". The sauna vendor at the fair had had such a bad week, he would have sold us one for half-off the retail price. And I've priced them before, so it really was a great deal. Unfortunately, even a half-priced sauna isn't in our budget at the moment. But I've made a mental note to head back down to the Hall of Industry the next year that it rains the week of the fair and see what kind of deals I can strike.

Tomorrow, the much more affordable Lutheran High School Oktoberfest is on our agenda. There is weiner dog racing at 4 p.m. Who can pass that up?

A Distinct Lack of Christian Charity

I still can't believe it.


I was up at the church (First Presbyterian in downtown NLR's Argenta district) for only my second day of work. I was not working on a sermon or getting the music together. I was mopping and resealing the hardwood floor in the entry way to the Fellowship Hall where everyone will enter come Sunday morning. I also put up a curtain I made to cover a doorless doorway into a room that's basically been turned into a storage unit. They really should have a class in guerilla decorating, quick cleaning and furniture moving in seminary. The church hasn't had a cleaning service in a while, but they are creative people and can move quickly. One of our members ran down to her fav restaurant and hired one of the waitresses to come down after her shift to mop the Fellowship Hall. All of this, I can believe. It takes more than prayers and preaching to get a church up and running again.

So, when I was at Grace, we often helped people who came in looking for money for food or gas or medicine. There was one woman who came in over and over. At the time, she called herself Ms. Tatum. If there was a tragedy in town--such as children dying in a fire, a horrific car accident, a shooting--Ms. Tatum claimed kinship to at least one (if not all) of the victims. She has also been the victim of cancer, kidney disease and migraines. At one point, I feared our church secretary might kill her if she showed up one more time. Then we went to a meeting hosted by one of the organizations in town who serves the homeless to learn how we could best serve the people who came in to our churches for handouts. In talking with other churches in the area, we found out that Ms. Tatum had been to them all with a number of tales of woe. I think we figured out that she had buried at least five parents, 10 children and several siblings. There were also quite a few relatives who had suffered disfiguring accidents.

Well, you may have guessed it. I've been out of the country for THREE YEARS and Ms. Tatum arrives on my second day on the job at a new church. The guys who run the recording studio let her in when she came to their door looking for the pastor. This time, she used a different name--even though she remembered me. Perhaps she has married. She claimed to have her wheelchair-bound brother (who had no legs) in the car with two of her kids and they needed gas and food. She also told me she had had cancer again and pulled back her cap to reveal a head full of hair while saying, "See, I've lost all my hair." The other church member who were there helping clean started digging in their purses for money, so I quickly told the former Ms. Tatum that we did not keep cash or food at the church. I gave her four dollars for gas and told her that she was in luck. That much money would get her over to First Pres in Little Rock where they were serving lunch right then. I escorted her out the door, and then told the guys at the recording studio to never let her in again. I am not planning on renewing my relationship with Ms. Tatum. I would like to be a better person, but I only have so much energy to give, and I've decided that spending it on her would not be good stewardship of my resources.

Formal Apologies

I'm thinking of having this form printed up on large-format sticky pads. I've started my tenure at a church in need of growth and am getting ready to shake things up, so I might need to keep a large supply of these. You can click on it to see it full size.




I've also been one to lean more toward asking for forgiveness than permission, so I hope God will grant me the wisdom to know when to push forward and when to hold back at this new call.

Victories Come in All Shapes and Sizes

Tonight my daughter did not care for the homemade chicken noodle soup that I so lovingly prepared tonight. I told her that I had used up all my food-making energy on the soup and didn't have any left. If she wanted something else, she would have to find it herself. She went to the pantry and pulled out the peanut butter and the bread and made her own peanut butter sandwich AND she put the jar of peanut butter and the bread BACK in the pantry. Ahhhh. I feel the winds of change moving in our family. Now I just need to not look in her room tonight and ruin this moment.

Despite my daughter's critique, I have to marvel at how good a few simple ingredients placed in a pot to simmer can turn out to be. Some shredded chicken with some chopped onion, celery and carrots, coupled with what was left of a box of penne becomes a feast when brought to a boil in some chicken stock and water. Even if Maddie didn't like the soup, she helped make it. I've heard it predicted that cooking will become a lost art in the next 20 years. I'm doing my part to keep it alive. Not that Martha Steward or the Barefoot Contessa have anything to fear from me. Tomorrow is guitar lesson night, which means takeout for dinner.

Culture in the Rock

Very entertaining weekend. Saturday night, hubby and I had free tickets to the Conway Symphony Orchestra performance at the Reynolds Hall at the U of Central A. Wow! First of all, that facility is amazing. It's a professional performance hall with dressing rooms, laundry facilities (for touring groups), state of the art staging and a light and sound board that are the latest and greatest.

And then the orchestra, under the direction of Israel Getzhov, was fabulous. It's Haydn's 200th birthday and so they did one of his London Symphonies and them some Russian pieces with combined choirs from UCA and Hendrix. Mr. (Dr.?) Getzhov is not only a great conductor, he is also a great educator and was a delight to listen to as he gave us the background on the pieces and the composers. Really fun night.

Sunday afternoon the whole family went skateboarding. Oh yeah, we did. Daughter and Dad went on Saturday to get her outfitted with the full kit--board, wheels, trucks, helmet, shoes and wrist guards. Section 8 Skateboards on Bowman Curve will hook you up. They were out of knee pads, but should have some in soon. Skip bought this big long board when we were in London and I dug out my custom, signed long board from back in my Surf Expo days and we hit the empty parking lot of an office park nearby. It was a lot of fun. Maddie is going to be pretty good. I'm thinking that between the electric guitar and the skateboard, I'm going to escape having to be a cheerleader mom. We're on the right path.

Sunday night, we went to hear David Sedaris. 1300 of the coolest people in Central Arkansas gathered in what used to be the worship space for Fellowship Bible Church to hear the slightly bent humorist and author. My stomach muscles still hurt this morning from laughing.

So for those who thought we'd be trading in cultural opportunities by ditching London for Little Rock, I have to say that the greater Central Arkansas area has much more to offer than a movie theater and a Barnes and Noble.

Westminster and Weldon's Meat Market

My hometown of Hot Springs has been so built up heading west down Central Avenue, that I wouldn't even have known I was in the place where I grew up if it weren't for the landmarks of Westminster Presbyterian Church and Weldon's Meat Market. The only two establishments that seem to have remained from when I was a child.

I continue to marvel at the number of shopping establishments that have sprung up both in Little Rock and in Hot Springs, yet the populations of the two towns aren't much bigger than they were 20 years ago. So we all simply must be buying more. Our need for stuff seems to have grown by leaps and bounds.

I was in Hot Springs for the 122nd meeting of the Presbytery of Arkansas. I am a lousy Presbyterian. The policies and procedures that must be followed in those meetings drive me up a wall. We actually had to vote on our ability vote on an item without amendment. Which meant we all had to agree that an item could go before Presbytery and be voted on without anyone from the floor begin able to offer up changes. And then there was a woman who was a candidate for ordination who had to preach and then be examined on the floor of Presbytery. I really am not a fan of the process. Between the seminary classes, the hoops you have to jump through with the Presbytery, the ordination exams and the public oral examinations, it is not a kind and gentle process. You better be ready to put on the Gospel armor if you want to ordained in the PCUSA.

There was some really cool news about the solar power initiative our Synod (made up of Presbies in OK, TX, LA and AR) are beginning. We are the Synod of the Sun, so it only makes sense that we would help bring solar power to places in the developing world in desperate need of alternative energy source.

And then, on a personal note, I got approval from the COM to be the "temporary supply" pastor for First Pres in the downtown North Little Rock neighborhood of Argenta. I start a week from tomorrow. It's a place with a lot of potential and I'm looking forward to seeing what Jesus might be stirring up in us and through us there in Argenta.

Holiday Hopping

I am so ready to feel better so that I can fully enjoy being back in the States for the great fall holidays of Halloween and Thanksgiving. While the American Women's Club in Duesseldorf did a great job with a Halloween party and Trunk or Treat activities, Halloween just wasn't the same in Germany or in England. Though it's catching on, Halloween is definitely an American phenomenon. And then, of course, Thanksgiving isn't even a holiday anywhere but here and Canada (I think theirs is at the end of October). Are their other places that do an official Thanksgiving? Long-time blog followers will remember what I had to pay for a turkey and 8 sweet potatoes in Germany. And canned pumpkin was a specialty item indeed. So I'm ready to decorate and enjoy the pumpkin recipes and carvings as well as the mums and the cornucopias, et al.

However, come Christmas time, I'd love to beam back over to Germany. Nobody does Christmas better. Everything is so lovely. There's no over-done tackiness. There are big Christmas markets and little village Christmas markets and markets at castles that feature only handmade items. And there is food and drink that is only available during the holidays, and that makes it all taste so much better. Before we moved to Germany, I masted the art of baking Christmas stollen. It was so plentiful there that I haven't made it in several years, but I'll have to crank some out this year.

So, once again, I'm ready to completely shed this flu bug and get on with enjoying my American fall festivities.

Chariots of Fire

Tonight my eight-year-old mimed slow motion running while singing the Chariots of Fire theme song. I'm pretty sure she's never seen that movie, so I asked her why she knew the song. She looked at me like I was crazy. "That's the song they always play when people are running toward each other or toward something in the movies or on cartoons." Then she rattled off a list: Shrek, Phineas and Ferb, Lilo and Stitch. I guess I hadn't realized how widely and often that song has been appropriated for all manner of slow-mo running scenes. I attempted to educate my daughter on cinematic history, but she wasn't much interested.

Of course, my favorite appropriation of the theme song occurs in the original National Lampoon's Vacation movie. The scene where Clark Griswold and his son Rusty make the last part of their journey to Wally World on foot only to find that the park is closed for maintenance is a classic by anyone's standards.

I am tired of being sick and feeling guilty for being tired of being sick. In spite of feeling like I've been run over by some large mode of transportation, I am in better shape than a lot of folks. No hacking cough. No raging temp. No hospitalization. And, although I have many projects/sermons/worship services I need to be working on, I do not need to be AT work right now, so I'm ahead on that score as well. My house is a little gross, but I'm about to get on the horn to contact someone to help with that one. So, all and all, I can't really complain about a little enforced rest time.

Emerging

After three days in bed, I'm beginning to feel like a person again. Not a strong, healthy person, but at least in the human family. My doctor prescribed Tamiflu for me. Just a tip: do not take on an empty stomach. That was a miserable lesson to learn. It's extremely expensive, and I have to wonder how much it helps. Hard to know. I understand that the CDC is recommending NOT prescribing it to healthy adults who don't have other health risks, but my doctor is apparently not following those guidelines. And, while I'm not one to rush into taking expensive, possibly unnecessary medicines, this flu season and all its media coverage has made me want to take whatever help I can get. My hope now is that it will not spread to the rest of the family. I do seem to be the weakest link in our household when it comes to immune systems, so the rest of the family may escape unscathed.

What a year of adjustments this is going to be for people in America. Not only are most of us learning to live on less money, but we will also most likely have to stop long enough to be sick at least once in the next few months. This flu is not the kind of thing where you can just pop some Ibuprofen and keep going. It lays you flat. Getting more rest. Spending less money. What is the world coming to?

Flu

Really bad flu. Can I get a refund on the $25 I spent on the flu shot?

Something Went Terribly Awry

Suicide victim allowed to die

In the UK, a woman suffering from depression used a living will to aid in her suicide. She drank a bottle of poison, called the ambulance and handed them her living will. It prevented them from employing life-saving measures, but allowed them to keep her comfortable until she died. The woman had attempted suicide several times before and had always been saved by medical professionals, but because of her legal end-of-life directive, doctors felt they could not intervene.

I am not at all a proponent of prolonging life by any means necessary and have always been in favor of living wills, but it seems that something went terribly wrong here. A young woman who wants to end her life calls for help so that she will not die alone and in pain, and her wishes are honored? The fact that she called for help wasn't a cue for the medical professionals to step in and save her? Did it not occur to anyone that, had she really wanted to be successful, she could have employed a number of other options that did not involve medical assistance?

People who battle severe, chronic depression live in a terrible place, but surely we can do better by them than merely helping them to die more comfortably.

Typhoon Ondoy and the Arkansas Lottery

There hasn't been a great deal of coverage here in the US, but a typhoon in the Phillipines has hit hard and affected thousands of people. The water is not receding very quickly, so people cannot even get back to their homes and there is much concern over diseases that will begin to spread due to all that standing water. A friend of mine from Duesseldorf and her family are living in Manilla now. Fortunately, their home is safe, but just three miles from them people have had to seek shelter. Here are some of her pictures and a couple of links where you can go to help.







Presbyterian Disaster Relief

Red Cross Phillpines


The lottery in Arkansas began yesterday. I'm not quite sure how I feel about it. If it works like it is supposed to and provides scholarships to Arkansas students, then I can feel a little better about it. But, seeing and hearing the coverage of opening day, it does indeed look like those scholarships will be funded off the backs of poor people. And I know nobody is ever forced to buy a lottery ticket, but for those who have so little, the potential of a big payoff is just too hard to resist.

The big powerball ticketing starts on October 31. I was thinking about all the things I could do if I won a large amount of money. I've got a list in my head about a mile long of all the groups and organizations I could help. I could replace my stained sink and get a microwave that works. I would buy a couple of pairs of outrageously expensive shoes. And then I thought about what a mess it would be to suddenly come in to a large amount of money. How would you pastor a church when you could buy the church several times over? Could my daughter still get on the bus every morning and go to school or would I worry about her safety? And how would we balance being able to afford anything we wanted and instilling good values about what's really important to our child? I think winning the lottery for a lot of people must be a real lesson in being careful what you wish for.

Pop Culture Week

This past week was a busy one. Not only was I finishing up a stewardship video for the Presbytery of Arkansas

and working on a sermon, but it was fall television premiere week. Thank goodness for the miracle of DVR.

The much-anticipated two-hour Grey's Anatomy season six premiere was somewhat diminished by the astonishing

number of commercials shown. I don't think the view got more than eight minutes of show at a time before a

commercial interruption. Caught a couple of the new sit-coms, but couldn't say I'd be marking my calendar to catch them

again. The third season of Mad Men is back and as fabulous as ever. But the winner this season for best entertainment

value is Glee. Even my husband thinks it's entertaining, but it particularly resonates with those of us whose life

in high school revolved around choir practice.

And if we didn't get enough high school angst from Glee on Wednesday night, we topped off at the Taylor Swift concert last night. You get a talented singer songwriter who was a junior high outcast, had her heart broken too many times to count in high school and is only 18, and you get a whole lot of songs about romance, broken hearts and revenge. It was a good show--even though young Miss Swift is quite a little drama queen. And I imagine the 13 to 16-year-old female crowd had one of the best nights of their young lives.

Meatballs and Uncertainty

CS Lewis said that the best children's stories are ones that also speak to adults. The movie Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs fits the bill. What a great movie! It was fun and entertaining for both me and my eight-year-old, and it had something to say about temptation, greed, the need for parental approval and our society's emphasis on physical appearance. Plus, as a friend of mine pointed out, the film maker provided a great educational moment by giving the female lead a peanut allergy.






This is the lead paragraph in an article in Time magazine this week.

The brain loathes uncertainty. In laboratory experiments, humans actually fear uncertainty more than physical pain. We are simply wired this way.

The article is about the swine flu and how our minds may be our biggest enemy in battling it. But I was kind of stunned by the above statement. I know we don't like uncertainty and that it makes us uncomfortable, but that we would rather be in physical pain than in a state of un-knowingness is pretty amazing.

Kind of of lends at least some explanation to this whole healthcare debate debacle and all the anger surrounding it. Maybe our Christian nation needs to adopt some Buddhist practices to make us more comfortable in the now when our future is unclear. Our maybe we simply need to practice what we preach and actually live like we believe that God is indeed God. And that even when our best-laid plans (like turning water into food) go awry, we have one constant on whom we can rely.

Dinner and a Show

My husband is AWOL for the weekend. Actually, he is AWL (absent with leave), so I took my daughter to her favorite (and her father's least favorite) restaurant in town. It's a pizza place that is a gi-normous leap up from the kid's place with the irritating mouse, but it also has a game area where the kids can play and win tickets to redeem for prizes. It's not my first choice for a dining experience, but there was a little extra tonight.

The place was packed, so every chair was taken. While we were eating, an older gentleman and his wife along with the man's daughter and son-in-law sat down next to us. I could tell from their conversation that the older couple was visiting from out of town. After awhile, the man stood up, went to the middle of the crowded and very noisy restaurant and asked for everyone's attention. He was standing with his back to me, so I only got snippets of what he said. The gist of it was that he was glad to be in Arkansas and that he was proud to live in the greatest country on earth. And then, he broke into song. He sang it well and with gusto. While I couldn't hear all the words, it was basically about how great America and Jesus are. When he was finished, everyone in the restaurant applauded, and he sat back down.

Now the best part was that the three other people he was with acted like this was not in the least bit out of the ordinary. They didn't look embarrassed at all. There were no shrugs or eye rolling as if to say "Dad's at it again." No, they just went on eating their dinner as if this was a perfectly normal thing to do.

I kind of hope this behavior takes off. It might be kind of nice (for awhile anyway) if people got up in public places and announced that they were so happy/proud/grateful about something that they just had to share a song with us all. That could really take the monotony out of waiting in line at the DMV. It could add some excitement to an otherwise uneventful elevator ride. It could break the tension of the next town hall meeting on healthcare reform. I see some really positive possibilities here.