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2008/07/30 Checkin Out For a Few DaysWe leave for a worship conference in a few hours. Depending on the old WiFi sichuasheeown, I may not be around until next week. If you need a blog hit, hop on over to Bill's blog. I was the guest blogger du jour.
2008/07/23 Retainer for Retainer ResponsibilitiesRetainer: a fee paid to secure services, as of a lawyer
Sarah got her braces off last week. We went in on Monday to get her fitted for a retainer.
I've already found it on the dining room table
and on the seat of the car
and left in a friend's house
and this morning
it was in her bed.
I'M GOING TO CHARGE SARAH A RETAINER
TO KEEP TRACK OF HER RETAINER.
Dr. S. said she'd have it for a year.
In a year, I will either be 1. Completely broke from paying for replacement retainers, or 2. Reduced to obsessive compulsive behavior, asking Sarah every .0006 seconds, "Where is your retainer? Where is your retainer? Do you have your retainer? Where is your retainer? Don't forget your retainer. Where is your retainer? Where did you have your retainer last? Is that your retainer I see sitting on the dashboard? Is that a retainer I see coming toward me on the highway? Boy, your friend's mom sure looks a lot like your retainer. I think I'm going to decorate my living room in "retainer chic." Retainer is a funny word...reeeeeee..taaaayyyy....nurrrrrrrr......hee...what about reeetayynerd? Heh. Are you a retainerd? Now that's kind of funny....if you worked for the railroad, and were kind of dorky, you could be a RE-TRAIN-NERD... Too bad they're not FREEtainers. They SO should be FREEtainers. *sigh* Where is your retainer? Where is your retainer? ......where...is......
my
MIND??????????
IT'S LOST
SOMEWHERE
WITH
SARAH'S
RETAINER 2008/07/22 Learning to Mean ItWhen I was in third grade, I hated a girl named Melanie. Folks, I truly hated her. She moved in to our neighborhood in the middle of the school year, and my world was never the same. She had brand new markers. She wore cool clothes. She was really smart. And my best friend Keri really liked her. a lot. I was terrible to Melanie. She only stayed at our school for a year or so, but during that year, I did all I could to make her sad. I was so angry, and sad, and scared, and wounded. I was angry at Melanie for taking my friend away; and I was angry at my-no-longer-best friend Keri for casting me aside for a girl with better markers. (I'm sure there were many more reasons than that, but when I was nine, that's how I reasoned.) After Melanie moved away, Keri and I didn't become best friends again. I begged her to forgive me, and be my best friend again, but she wasn't interested. I guess I don't blame her, what with the whole hating-Melanie-thing between us and all. Within a year, we moved away. I never said I was sorry to Melanie. I wish I would have. She deserved an apology. I may not have deserved her forgiveness, but she deserved my apology. As a 9 year old, I didn't feel very sorry. As a 9-plus-a-few-years old, I now feel very sorry. I don't think I withheld my apology to hurt her. I think I didn't apologize because... I wasn't sorry. On the other hand, I've said sorry many times without truly meaning it...whether it was to get out of trouble, or win someone over, or for some other self-serving reason. And really, that's where the work lies. The work doesn't lie in saying the words "I'm sorry." The work lies in truly meaning those words before you say them. In order to mean them, you have to do business with God. Only He can give us hearts that are tender towards Him, which gives us hearts that grieve over our sin, and are tender towards other people. When we ask God for that kind of heart, the "I'm sorrys" that follow will change lives.
I think we could all use more of those kinds of "I'm sorry."
2008/07/18 THEY DID IT!It took them five games to dig out of the losers' bracket.
They played two last night, and two tonight; one of which was played in the rain!
It was so fun to watch these girls give it their all.
We couldn't be prouder of them!!!!
Love Your Neighbor...But Still Beat Them In SoftballWe have new neighbors. They're really nice people. They have two girls, who are about our kids' age. But one little interesting twist to this suburbian scenario is that both of their girls play on teams that compete against our girls' teams.
The little ones played each other tonight. While Sarah was the runner on first, Regan was the first base player. They were chatting up a storm. I looked at Regan's mom across the bleachers and we laughed. It was cute to see them talking. Everything about 2nd and 3rd grade softball is cute, actually.
Sarah and Regan chillaxin at Big Sis' Game
The older girls played each other tonight too.
It's tournament time, and we're digging out of the loser's bracket, my friends.
My throat is sore from yelling.
My stomach is still churning from the nerves.
At one point it occured to me how funny this whole thing was. How do you make small talk with someone, while cheering for your kid to beat her kid?
If we end up annoying each other in the neighborhood as the years go by, these softball games could get more and more interesting.
Lot line spats, annoyance over the other one mowing at 6am on a Saturday, my daughter tracking mud into her house on a rainy day, her daughter spilling kool-aid on my white carpet....all of it...
will be settled on the softball fields of this Anytown, USA
And by the way...
The westerly neighbors won tonight: 12-11.
woooo hoooooooo!!!!!!
2008/07/10 WasOne of Bart's co-workers lost his 21 year old son this week. The son was crossing a road near a fireworks stand, and was hit by a drunk driver.
Bart has been telling me all week how people at the bank have been talking about what a great kid Matt was.
It struck me today the blessing it is to hear somebody say how great your kid is.
But to hear how great your kid WAS?
I can't begin to understand how that must feel. 2008/07/09 Green Hair, Weird rashes, Sauce Covered Designer Dresses, and Little DebbieFor some of you youngins, this example may mean nothing, but starting yesterday, at about 7 pm, my life felt like an old Wings episode. Helen met Davis, this great guy, and he was coming to the island to see her. She decided to do a bunch of things to "foof up" for his coming, and that's where the comedy started. She decided to get her hair colored, which was fine, until she decided to go swimming for a work out, and the chlorine turned her hair green. She took it in stride, saying..."I can do this...I'll just buy a kit and re-color it at home." Then, she somehow broke out into a weird rash all over her body ( can't remember how), and yet she still kept up her good attitude. Then, her sister shows up on her doorstep, all distraught because her husband Stuart left her. She begins consoling her sister, and in the mean time, other friends show up with their crises, and by the end of the day, there are several people in her house, while she's got white foamy hair coloring in her hair, a distraught sister, a rash, and still she's trying to make dinner for Davis. At this point, she's still saying..."I can do this...I can do this..." While making her sauce, she decides to take the pan from the kitchen to the living room to have somebody taste test it. While walking out of the kitchen, through the swinging door, Lowell walks into the kitchen the other way through the swinging door, and door hits the pan of sauce, dumping it all down her brand new designer dress she was wearing.
Helen loses it in that moment. She's standing there with foamy white stuff in her hair, pink calamine lotion spots all over her body, a dress with creamy white sauce all over it, and she screams hysterically at everyone to get out of her house. Everyone leaves, and it's just her, standing there in all her glory. The doorbell rings, and she assumes it's one of her annoying friends, and she answers the door, screaming and looking like a Lucille Ball episode....
and it's Davis. aaaaaah!
Over the past few weeks, there have been issues surfacing in a steady trickle. These issues have been coming in every area of my life. Issues with ministry, children, friends, extended family, health, work, writing/recording and marriage have all demanded more prayer than usual, more thought, and more time. And then, inevitably, God calls me to make more effort in dealng with my own failings and sin issues when it comes to these issues that have surfaced. My mantra in times like these, (especially since I deal with depression) is to "Do the Next Thing." If I stop and think about the future ramifications of some of this stuff, or go down the road of trying to read people's motives and minds, or think too much about the big picture of all that needs to be done and resolved, then I get overwhelmed by heartache and stress. So, I do the next thing, hoping that in the end, I'll come out of times like this feeling a greater sense of God's presence, and growth in wisdom and maturity.
However, all day yesterday I could feel the build-up. I got a couple of phone calls in the morning that started it, and for the rest of the day little things kept happening. And, last night, in the middle of worship team practice, it all hit the fan. I didn't explode like Helen, but I couldn't breathe. I felt like I was drowning. There was a moment where I watched a player on our team make a bad decision in regard to how to treat another person on our team, and I felt my chest get tight. In that moment, I wanted to walk out. It wasn't that the magnitude of this guy's behavior was so bad, it was the weeks and weeks of the trickle building up to that moment. That drop of a moment was the drop that caused the exploding gusher in my heart.
Doing the next thing is a good thing.
But what happens when you don't even have the emotional strength to do the next thing?
HoHo's in large quantities usually factor in at this point for me!
I'm going to try and avoid the HoHo haze this time.
Little Debbie products sound better. 2008/07/02 Life On A StickThis morning, on my Wednesday shuttle bus route, I called SueC. This is how our conversation went:
Sue: "What's up?"
Lisa: "I'm sitting in the softball parking lot, waiting to cart the little ones home, so I can pick the big ones up and take them to practice. I think I use about a half tank of gas on Wednesdays."
Sue: "You should put a bell on your car, and buy some ice cream bars. You could sell them as you make your trips. ding ding.......ding ding....."
Lisa: "Or, I could not buy the ice cream bars, and just sell what I have in the car...like M&M's that have been in the crack of the seat, and Gatorade that's been in the cupholder for a week, and lollipops with dirt and hair on them."
Sue: "Yeah, just put it all on a stick. Everything is better when it's on a stick."
I think I might buy a bullhorn too. 2008/07/01 I Need Me Some of ThatSarah got to be a part of a commercial jingle today. When we got her in front of that mic, there was no stopping that kid. She had a blast....no insecurity...no feeling like she didn't belong there...no wondering if Mr. G would play her stuff for his friends and have a good laugh later on in the day. I want to be like her when I grow up.
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