Note #7

Roscoe or Moscow?

So, it's about this plumbing crisis we had this weekend. Not to keep going on and on and on about it, but there are some rather comic relief moments in this crisis that have not yet been reported. And knowing me, the next crisis is right around the corner, so if I don't get this all documented, we'll slide right into the next one without fully processing the first one. (And THEN my therapist will be thoroughly overwhelmed...... won't you, Mom?)

Anyway, when I called my neighbors in the middle of the night, I was trying to build up enough of a case for him to come over.

I thought about telling him that the mice who reside in my basement were going to need a canoe soon, if he didn't come over and help. But that didn't sound exciting enough.

I thought if I made big gushing and wooshing sounds to imitate the sound of the sewer pipe gushing its guts into my dungeon would produce the right amount of emotion to launch him from his cozy bed.

But instead I tried the sympathy technique.. "and Will is in Moscow, and I don't know what to do!!!"

So the next day arrives. I'm not really sure if his wife, Shirley told him that Will was out of town, since I talked to her first. So, I thought I should make it clear that Will wasn't home, just to be proper and that he would see that I was a helpless waif who was in desperate straits.

So, I called over there at 10:00 a.m. just to notify them that we were up and ready to work on actually fixing the pipes whenever he was available. (no pressure, but get it done...soon... please...) And then I added,

Me: "So, I am not sure that you heard, but Will is in Russia"

Carl: "Russia? Shirley said he was in Roscow"

Me: "Roscoe? You thought Will was in Roscoe? " (a town about 10 miles away)

"It's Moscow! You know, the Soviet Union? (the old Soviet Union) Russia?"

Carl: "Oh, he's not in Roscoe?" (laughing nervously)

Me: "What did you think? Why would will be stuck in Roscoe and not be able to get home and fix the plumbing? Tell Shirley to call off the prayer chain. The marriage is intact!"

And after all that, he still came over, even though we are this insane family, whose husband hangs out in a town 10 miles from home and refuses to come home to fix the sewer pipe at 3:00 a.m. !! Now that redefines Christian charity, don't you think?

I love Carl, but I will say this--I think he needs to get out more.. some place far far away.. like Pecatonica. ROFL.

Yet another way I am my mother..

Just in case any one has forgotten about my mother, let's review here. Now, my mother is a "cleanie". She loves things neat, orderly, picked up and well.... "clean". Maybe I'm a later bloomer in some of these areas. But after a while, I started to notice that my mother would almost go through a personality change after cleaning. It worked like a drug on her. I could not figure it out until just this past weekend. The truth is: she's getting high on the cleaning products. How do I know? It happened to me this past weekend.

You know the little disaster we had this weekend? Oh, you didn't hear? Well the sewage water was dumping gallons of water into our basement every 10 seconds. Thankfully it was going down the drain as fast as in came out, but there still was some stinky and unsanitary "moments"... I'll spare you the details.

After we got it fixed, cleaned up once, twice with bleach and thrice with regular cleaner. I discovered something.

Actually this discovery has been coming on for about a week now. I have finally found some cleaning products that I "enjoy"..... er.. uh... yeah..

Are you ready?

Meyer's Clean Day!! "Lemon Verbena" "Basil" "Lavender"... and guess what? I love cleaning with stuff that smells this good!!! I'm converted. I'm a cleaning product junkie! Well, that may be overstating it a little, but I can say this: Cleaning is FUN! and smells good! Yeah!

I found this stuff at Walmart. It has a lot of biodegradable junk in it, and it is one of those things where you add the concentrated cleaner refill to a bunch of water when you are ready for a new batch. So far, I've cleaned the floor, the countertops, the bathroom, and miscellaneous surfaces. It's fun to clean.

Oh, I'm so easily impressed, aren't I? Which is another thing that makes me like my mother!!

Except I'm easily impressed with different things than she is impressed with. Both of us together is like watching two monkeys in a museum with our mouths hanging open. Quite a sight.

Well, I could continue to blog, but my spray bottle is calling me. ROFL.

This is making my home sing this week. In fact, it's singing so much, it feels like an opera. Go visit Nan if you want to hear about what is making other homes sing.

Water, water everywhere and no way to turn it off..

So, I arrive home from spending all day in Batavia doing pilates training. And about an hour before I get home, the basement is flooding. But wait! It gets better.

The most capable daughter decides to "fix it"--which is another amazing thing. How she would know what to do is beyond me. And it IS fixed until 3:00 a.m. And then it springs loose again.

And all is mass confusion around here for an hour or so. Finally after calling all sorts of people, our neighbor, Carl came over and muscled the thing into place with duct tape.

And all this needs to happen when he just arrived here:

But the Lord provided, as he always does. It was a bit stressful in the middle of the night until Carl came over.

Carl is a muscly old dude with a huge heart. All I can say is: thank you! and there has got to be double treasures in heaven for a 3:00 a.m. call from a neighbor.

Why not try digging??

"I'm not sure there's anything down there"

"Did you plant potatoes?"

"Well, yeah, but I've never done this before. Maybe they died out, or some animal ate them."

"So, did you get a plant with flowers?"

"Yes, I got plants with flowers, and the flowers died out, and I pulled up the plant"

"And you didn't even check to see if there's potatoes?"

"Hmm.. do you think I should?"

"Yes. I think you should. There's potatoes down there, I'm guessing."

So, my trusty gardener friend left me to me thoughts. The ground is hard and clay like. I didn't mix the soil with peat moss and compost. My dad told me to mound them up. I didn't do that either. I'm not a gardening genius, but that isn't saying much. But it is so much work to get the hoe and dig! It's not like I can't buy potatoes at the store.

Curiosity got the best of me. What if.. just what if.. there ARE potatoes down there? And I never pick them? I'll never know one way or the other unless I get the fork spade and get going.

I was praying that I'd even know what a potato in the ground looked like, if indeed, I did come across one. Pretty soon.. clunk. A roundish thing came to the surface.

Could it be? Could it really be a.. potato?? Wait a minute. This is purple. Did I plant purple potatoes? I did. I faintly remember planting purple potatoes way back, like 5 months ago.

And every time one came up, I yelled like a wild banchee, "Potato!!" so that all the cows in the field could hear. They are used to my yelling. I even went out the next day and found more than these. I think I planted 6 seedling potatoes--6!!
It is really a thing of beauty, you know? All lumpy bumpy and purple and food-a-licious all at once.
Perhaps I am not the first to make this correlation, but how often do we treat our Bibles like my potato patch. We have all sorts of excuses for not wanting to "dig" into the Bible.

It's hard. It's uncertain. Will all of this work be in vain? What will this investment of time and effort yield me? Just because my friend, who is an experienced gardener says there's potatoes in there, does not necessarily mean that there are! Do I have that kind of time??

And if I can be impressed by a lumpy, bumpy potato, covered in dirt, how easily impressed am I? But it is impressive to me because I dug it up! Well, I even planted it, if you want to get technical.

But that's the beauty of it. The Bible digging need not be impressive to anyone else except the digger. It's special because it is special in and of itself, but it is special because you and the Lord dug it and own it--however lumpy bumpy it may seem at the moment.

And this hedgehog is a lumpy bumpy Bible-study-er. But I do it. I get 'er done, however pathetic it seems at the moment. And just like a potato, it feeds me. However un-gourmet it may seem to others, it's a feast for me!

I'm just an ole fashioned messie

I was reading Sandra Felton's book the Messie Manual. I had to put it down because the human soul can only take so much conviction at one point.

But she helped clarify some things for me. There really are "cleanies" out there who have this orderliness in their brains that would send most of us into convulsions.

Am I organized? Am I clean? Am I obsessive about it? no. no. and no.

But I have basic order, basic cleanliness and mild fits of obsession. But I'm not a "cleanie".

Cleanies have this internal network of what to do in order to make it clean all of the time.

The best I can hope for is the status of a "reformed messie". A messie has chosen a different path from which she is naturally geared for.

And the cleanies say, "Whaaaaaaa? Everyone has to have this internal cleanie thing, because it is so natural and easy for me; therefore, it must be for everyone."

I never said cleanies were perfect and not myopic. They typically get an A+ in myopia. And that is one thing that makes them good cleanies!

But as far as messies are concerned, there are brands.. shades if will.. of messies. While I don't want you to miss the opportunity to get the book and figure your brand out for yourself, I'll just entertain you by giving you "my brand" of messy.

Probably the worst offender for me is: being the old fashioned messy. The old fashioned messy just loves doing things the old fashioned way, just for the fun of it. Being Old Fashioned creates clutter from equipment, mess from more things going on at once, and chaos from extra steps.

In fact, we are old fashioned in so many ways! I like old fashioned cooking, sewing, schooling, crafting, and entertaining ourselves. Will likes old fashioned things like woodworking, do-it-yourselfing, and reading tons of books.

So, there are reasons for our old fashioned-ness. It's not just about eccentric! I am inclined to think that God is in our old fashioned ways, to some extent, at least.

So, I have choices to make, don't I? I can give up being a 1920's housewife, OR I can find ways to cope with my old fashioned ways. At this stage of the game, I'm just finding ways of coping, since I like all that junk. Yes, I have modern things going on around here, despite all prior evidence to the contrary. But I am choosing to remain a messy in this way, for now at least.

And that is probably while I blitz. I do have to live in this century--internet anyone? dishwasher? dryer? (these are very important inventions!)

If you haven't seen or heard of the blitz, click around here and get with the program. It's the only way I live in several decades at once!

Makes my home sing with moms the word.

God's provision

If anyone cares, I have big hands, as far as woman's hands go. They are big, strong and almost manly looking, except that years of ballet has made them sort of graceful, in a big-hand kind of way. If the truth be known, I like my hands.

If I can make an analogy of the size of our hands in correlation to the size of our needs, it would have to be, at times, rather biggish. And the only reason, the needs are big-ish is because I have had enough faith to allow them to be that way. To George Mueller, his needs were huge because he trusted God to be a big provider.

In the same way, a mom, a wife who chooses to go without a paying career because she wants to homeschool, a homemaker who wants to feed the entire world that steps through her home, or really anyone who ministers to anyone in anyway does so in faith. The amount of risk and responsibility a person takes on, increases the amount of provision they need. In a sense, it makes their needs larger. Their need for God's provision is greatly increased. Whether it is for food, for energy, for wisdom, for a better way to order life, or just plain encouragement, the need is big. The servants of God who have a serving lifestyle have a big list of things they need from God.

In contrast, small-need people are people who can't allow themselves any amount risk so there will be no real need for God's provision. Every need that is known has to have a known provision, well ahead of time.

They would probably call it careful planning. I'll call them small-handed people. They still have hands, no doubt. But God can only place in their hands a small amount because there really is no room in their hands for anything more.

I am working on increasing the size of my hands, so to speak. As much as I would like to deny it, I spent the first many years of my Christian life being small handed.

And the process of increasing the size of my hands has been a hard path to be on. I am not a risk taker. I don't like the unknown.

But look at my hands now. That tomato up there? Those are my hands holding it. Something small, compared to what God is going to do. How do I know that? Because I am going to allow him to take me to the next baby step of trusting him.

Here's the story behind the big tomato. This summer was not a great tomato year for us. I planted 35 tomato plants with the hopes of putting up 52 quarts of salsa--one for every week of the year. (Great planning, eh?) Except that the tomatoes did not work out. I ended up canning about 9 quarts, which is better than nothing, but not what I had hoped for.

And I started to panic and asked around to see if anyone had any tomatoes left over. I realized that I was probably going to have to buy some, but I wasn't sure where. I certainly didn't want to have to resort to the grocery store--ugh. So, I figured the 320 store would be the best bet. (It's a local produce store that sells locally grown produce) Before I got to the store, I passed a garage sale. At the sale, I found tomatoes THIS size (above) for $.25 a piece. Really! What is that? An entire tomato would probably be a quart of salsa? Amazing.

So, yes, it is unconventional, but that is exactly how I know it is from the Lord.

And it fits EXACTLY into my hands. Now, how fun is that?

Now, I wonder what the Lord is going to do next.. Isn't it exciting living the Christian life?

Officer, there's coffee in my foot..

My mother has this policy that she adopts in her life. It goes something like this:

When I loose my car keys, have a car accident, or completely forget where I am going when I'm going somewhere, THEN I am on overload. These are indicators, honey, that you are doing too much. You need to slow down.

Just because school is in its fourth week, and my husband is on a business trip to CT this week, AND I have a big pilates training session starting tomorrow DOES not necessarily mean that I have reached overload.

Generally, when I reach overload, I end up running out of something basic like CASCADE. Or I end up sewing a sleeve into a leg-hole. Or I just give sewing altogether.

For all practical purposes, I feel like I'm doing pretty well. I think it is because my times with the Lord have been very refreshing and real. So, even though there is a disaster lurking at every available corner, it never actually crashes in. Without the Lord, it seems like it wouldn't take much to collapse a weakling like me.

Whether or not I am under stress or just having a happy-go-lucky kind of day, I generally always speed. When I am in the car, driving the car, that is, my foot goes down the floor and it just stays there until the ride is over.

When other people drive, I go nuts watching how slow they go. I generally accept this as a personality quirk rather than what it really is: breaking the law. (bad, bad, I know! I know!!)

So, today there was the usual amount of coffee in my foot. And wasn't even in a hurry this time.

I was just going kind of happy-go-lucky. I had finished teaching pilates, picked up Hudson from his cello lesson and had a truck full of groceries. I ended up going to a "killer" garage sale that made me sing the hallelujah chorus with its bargains du jour.

Want to know what I found? (this is digression from the regular story, OK?)

In short, BIG beautiful "bodacious" tomatoes from this gal's garden: $.25 a piece. These are the most beautiful tomatoes I've ever seen., and mine were not that great this year.

Also, a FREE dresser for Joanna, and FREE hedge snippers, 4 glasses for $.25/ a piece AND

a Milwaukee SAWZALL for $25.00... WooT! (A Sawzall is what you use to take out walls and such..great for remodeling..) I love power tools.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, I was heading home from all of this glorious shopping and such, and there's a police car with the lights flashing, pulling me over. Apparently, I was going 43 mph. Do you know the part of State Street where everyone goes 60 mph? Yeah, well, I'm here to tell you that it is 30 mph! 30, people. And I do not care how much coffee is in your foot. You will go 30.

So, he issues me a ticket. I signed the ticket. He handed me back my license and insurance and gave me a packet. He told me everything I need to know would be in the packet.

So, I wanted to cry the whole way home. I tried to talk him into a "warning"--apparently they don't do that anymore--especially if you are going 13!! miles over the speed limit.

So, I got home and opened the packet. There were instructions about what to do with your ticket and how to pay it and then you would get your license back. The only problem is--there was NO ticket in the packet. AND I had my license! So, now what? Now what?

I called the department of traffic violations (or whatever it is called) and they had no advice for me. They assumed that it would be mailed to me. They suggested that police officer had a "blonde moment"??

The guy looked like the dude from the old show "CHIPS".. Remember that show? He's not blonde. And I didn't realize it wasn't customary for him to return my license or whatever. (It's not like I get traffic violations every day or anything..)

So, how do I pay a ticket that I don't have before a court date that I don't know? Nevertheless, I do not feel the liberty to do "nothing" about it, just in case he's going to say I was blonde and not him. Any thoughts? What would you guys do?

(other than slow down and stop speeding)

And does your coffee go straight to your foot also?

Making me sing..

This past week we've been seeing the glories of summer fade beautifully into fall.

The fun times of summer are just a picture.
The sunset happens a lot earlier now, and there's a chill in the air.
It happens every year, and I forget what I like it so much, until it happens again. Suddenly, there's more a bounce in my step and a lightness in my attitude. The repressive heat of summer is letting up, and I can breathe again.

These are simple things, but they seem ever so important to me this year. I have hardly ever fought allergies quite the way I did this year. Any let up in the humidity is a beautiful thing.

It doesn't take much to make my home sing, I guess--just a little fresh air and cooler weather.
Making my home sing at Moms the Word.

Just a few minutes left.. of 9/11

Just a few minutes left of this day: 9/11/10.

I found this video from my son's research. It is very well done.

Thank you to everyone who gave their lives, who routinely defend our freedoms, who love the nation we enjoy and who are sympathetic to our grief.

Some of my readers lost loved ones in the events that took place that day. May your hearts be comforted during this time.

Last weekend..

The wild hedgehog in her indigenous land, Lake Superior shores in Marquette, MI.

The surf was wild.

I love it like this. It is an untamed beast.
And here is my brother and his wife.
They both work in Marquette as teachers. They are awesome.
As you can see..

And Joanna's camera battery died before I could get anymore pics. But.. it was fun.

A talent taken too far..

Some of my blog writing is just my way of processing new information, so bear with me on this one. I will attempt to be high brow, but it may end up in high confusion, LOL.

I hardly ever have the time for a quick, easy read. But I was in a church library and picked up a book, Broken on the Back Pew, by Sandi Patty. I quickly whisked through it in a few hours, but I wanted to read the entire thing to process it fully in one sitting.

For those who were involved with Christian things in the 90's, you probably remember Patty's songs, "Lift up the Lord" and other awe-inspiring songs. In my mind, there was only a few redeeming artists of the CCM world, and she was one of them. (at that time, at least)

Fast forward a few years. I am no more in-tune with the CCM industry than I am with the stock market. But my good friend, Kathy B. was. She said she cried for days when she found out her beloved singer, Sandi Patty, was found out to be in serious sin. Her role model, as she saw it in her younger years, had fallen--never to be the same again.

I stored this in the back of my mind in the "unusual" pile. The unusual pile just sits there, often for years without explanation. I have no idea of the details that surround this person's life, their sin, their repentance or not, or how it affects the time breakfast will be served in my home.

Well, when I picked up the book, I was reminded of my unusual pile again. Part of me cared. I am not sure which part of me cared, but instantly I had to know more. I'm guessing because I have had a real interest in themes like repentance and restoration.

So, this is my humble little opinion (after reading her biography in her own words) of what happened to her, and how we can all learn from it. Keep in mind that I am not an authority on this, and I have never met her personally.

It seems like Sandi was born into the CCM industry. For those who do not know the term, CCM is Contemporary Christian Music. This "industry" itself is subject to much controversy in Christian circles. While I'd like to rant about that in particular, I think I'll save those thoughts for another day.

In reading her story, one thing was lacking from it. Can you guess? Her testimony of how Jesus saved her. Now, that's not saying that she isn't saved, or that she wasn't, but it is curiously not obvious. There is a lot of commentary on her musical career and how she emerged as an unknown to a known, especially amongst the CCM industry supporters.

So, we have a woman of unusual musical abilities, with an unclear testimony, who is consumed with a career and a marriage. And I, being naive, never realized the amount of money that these people bring in each year, AND how many people it takes to run a show like that. At the pinnacle of her success, she had 25 full time people in her employ. Wow.

So, with a struggling marriage, (and whose marriage wouldn't be struggling with a woman gone most of the time?) and four? little children and many other pressures, it was a disaster waiting to happen.

And WE contributed to it. Well, maybe not you, but I did. I listened to her music also in the 80's and early 90's. What sort of supportive Christian community have we been to support this nonsense industry?

Should a wife and mom, who also happens to be a talented singer, be "on the road" promoting Christian things to Christian people who can't even be faithful to her first callings in order to do so? Is THIS ministry?

And should we be shocked when these people have affairs? or divorces? Probably not. And are they even saved? I am thinking through this. Is it possible to not be saved and do what they are doing?

Let's see.... Get up on stage? yes.

Sing religious songs? yes

Tell convincing stories? yes, but you would have to have some drama skills

sing well? yes

Perform as a Christian while you are in public? yes.

Lead people to Christ? yes, but could be hard.

The Bible says many will come to him in that day and say "Lord, Lord.. did we not do fabulous things in your name...." and not really be saved.

Is Sandi saved? not sure. In one hand she seems to be fully repenting of her sin (in words), but on the other hand, she is continuing in the same circumstances that got her in trouble in the first place. Is this repentance?

Well, what can we learn from this? What have I gotten out of this?

Whenever I hear of someone's fall into sin, I am greatly saddened and humbled, knowing that the same thing could happen to me. It would be foolish to think that I would not have committed the same sins, given the same circumstances. Take heed, lest ye fall.

But there are more lessons out there that are a tad more subtle. Many of us have talents, even if they are not singing or performing talents. In fact, every one of us has some earthly talents that could potentially be developed in such a way to create fame, money or both.

Whether it is singing, public speaking, writing, crafting, blogging, cooking, home making, photography, or whatever you are good at, the possibility exists to take it too far, too fast and go beyond what is a blessing for you, your family and those you are trying to bless.

This is the real point of conviction for my soul. How can I keep it all in balance? At what point will I say NO, if the opportunities do come my way? Have you ever thought about it? Can I keep Jesus the center of my heart, my marriage, my home, and everything else that I am involved with? And WHAT is my exit plan, if I do get over my head in something?

So, rather than judge those who have not had a clear exit strategy and made some wrong decisions, I'd like to use this as an opportunity to explore this hard issues in my own life. Are fame, money or power any of my "secret" goals? What are my goals anyway? If God has given me a talent, what is His will to do with it? or not do with it?

So, maybe your heart is stirred to consider some of the same things. After all, there are some very talented people who read this blog! What is your plan? What is your exit strategy?

Thanks for hearing my ramblings...

jiggety jig.

We're back home from our first trip up to see our son at college. For those who are just joining us, our oldest, Jamie, is just starting college at Michigan Technological University in Houghton, MI. The locals just call it "Tech" or "Houghton-Tech".

All the way up, I was giddy with excitement. We made our first stop with old friends in Wausau, WI for a night, and then trenched upward to Marquette to visit my brother and his wife for a little over an hour. And then we made our way down to Gwinn, to stay with my folks and visit with my grandparents for a meal. And then, the following day, we made it to the Houghton area to pick up Jamie.

Our good friends live in the area, so our entire family stayed with them for this visit. We had a blast as the two families got along fabulously and enjoyed great food and decent weather for outdoor games.

I would put up some photos, but my photographer was so busy doing homework to get ready for school tomorrow that I think that will have to wait a tad. When we arrived home, we found out that we locked ourselves out of the house. So, there was little time to do anything other than "break in", eat dinner, shower and get ready for school tomorrow.

And our little one was mildly sick most of the weekend. I say mildly because it wasn't messy, but she still has a fever. So, I'll be staying home from Hallstrom with her for part of the day when I'm not teaching. So, yeah. It's all in a day's work. But we're alive and well.

Totally beyond exhausted..

Last night I came home from our homeschool co-op totally, 110%, bereft-of-any-energy type of exhausted.

In contemplating what I should do with myself in this condition, I decided that:

1) eating dinner

2) taking a shower

and

3) laying on the bed under a cool fan were the only things I could think of doing at the time.

Something funny happens to me when I get that tired. My mind starts spinning and thinking of everything in the world I could or should be doing. And then there's an onslaught of guilt that follows each one of these ideas.

Why not write a blog post? Because it would sound dumb. You've tried to write things when you are this tired, and then you wonder why you did it.

Why not clean up the kitchen? Yeah. But the kitchen isn't going anywhere, and no one else has eaten yet. It's going to get messy again.

Why not do some laundry? It's not laundry day. Remember that you purposely do it that way so you can rest on Tuesday nights?

Why not call Mom? Does she wanted to be inflicted with you when you are like this?

Until I come to the obvious:

Why not go to bed? Yeah. That's just the best thing for the whole world, isn't it? It's obvious to everyone except me, and now it's obvious to me also.

Can I read my Bible then? Yeah, that's a good idea also. But then it's lights out, OK?

OK.

And all of my "selves" go to bed. And we wake up happy the next morning, about 12 hours later.. or so. And it just felt like a few minutes. Yes, I was bushed. That's why we only have co-op once a week. It takes a week to recover from the 8 hours spent in 90 degree heat with 350 kids and their parents.