Love does too win...

Who cares what this one woman's opinion of gay marriage is? Seriously, what difference does it make if I am for or against it. I suppose I am a bit of libertarian on the subject...

" But it does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty gods or no God. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg."
-Thomas Jefferson, Notes on Virginia, 1782

Surprised? I live with a child who was. Why was she surprised? I am a conservatives, conservative Christian. So racist right? Seriously? Yeah, it was quite a discussion.

Me: "When you have friends over who are gay, have I been rude?"
She: "No."
Me: "Have I ever told you that you cannot spend time with someone who is gay?"
She: "No."
Me: "Have I hit you over the head with the book of Romans, highlighting words like 'abomination'?"
She: "No."
Me: "Did you  know I have taken care of and bathed, and held the hand of  more than one member of the    LGBT community?"
She: "No."
Me: "Do you know that I have friends and co-workers that are gay and that we love each other inspite of each other?"
She: "REALLY????"
Me: "Do you know I would rather you chose to be a lesbian than a liberal?"


Just checking to see if you were still paying attention....


In all seriousness, in recent weeks, on more than one occasion, a child in my home and I have had to discuss an unpopular stance. It was suggested that if they disagree with me, they would be "blacklisted" in our home. How sad I am that I allowed them to believe that. So there have been late nights on my balcony or in the living room discussing everything from gay marriage to abortion.

Am I against the SCOTUS ruling on gay marriage? In the purest, conservative way, of course I am. I don't believe the courts have the right to decide what should have been a states rights issue. I also believe opening the door, even more, to the destruction of the Constitution, is going to harm our country. I believe the law of un-intended consequences will smack us in the national face...again.

As a Christian, I am a part of the group being called bigots. As a Conservative Christian, because I don't "feel" the same way as those who are supportive of the law, I stand on the wrong side of History. I shake my head at the PC-ness of our age. I suppose I would be accused of micro-aggression. I know that Love won about 2000 years ago when there was an empty grave. This is an opportunity to love deeper and with more Truth than ever before. Now I know there are those who will be insulted by that statement simply because I cannot be converted to their way of thinking. I understand that too. “To one who has faith, no explanation is necessary. To one without faith, no explanation is possible.” ― St. Thomas Aquinas.  And I quote Thom  knowing he actively sought to kill and torture those who did not believe as he did....said the Protestant in the room. 

I've learned to shut up and pray this past year in ways I never imagined I would need to. I've simply asked my well indoctrinated children to know their source of information. Don't just take Tumbler's word on things. Understand the angle, be it a conservative Christian or a liberal Buddhist. Read everything from Mother Jones to Drudge. Let me quote another Thomas:

"Question with boldness even the existence of a God; because, if there be one, he must more approve of the homage of reason, than that of blind-folded fear." Thomas Jefferson 1787

Respect my right to descent not because I said so, but because I am willing to seek the Truth. God's word says to seek wisdom over all other things and that He will graciously give it to you in abundance. I give my children this advice, not to convert them to my way of thinking but because I know Him and I know He is to be trusted. It is not now, nor will it ever be, my job to convert anyone...even my own children. It is however my job to teach them to seek the Truth and trust that if I am proven wrong, it is to His glory. My glory does not matter. I give this gift to my children: Truth. Know the Truth and the Truth will set you free.

 

My moving up from Junior High....

Last year I blogged on learning in Junior High. Well let me just say, year number two taught me way more than I bargained for. In recent months,  I knew I was getting my pony-tale yanked by the Almighty. I tried to ignore it but it wasn't working. There was this huge problem with this job of mine as a school nurse....I LOVED IT! I mean, I loved it to my pretty, glued on toe nails, loved it.

I went to work and was needed (like no one at home needed me?) and I was good at what I did ('cause I suck at parenting? Am a lousy cook? Keep a crappy home? Okay, that last one was just to see if you were paying attention...) and I made people laugh (you know how serious we are in Schlusserdom, so nice change?) and I made people feel good about themselves( as you know I live to tear my family down?) and I wasn't lonely...at all (wait...that one. Yes, that one.)

It was nice to have someone notice my skill. It was nice to have someone NOT have heard all of my stories and to get to create new ones. It was so nice to be a grownup professional once again. It was all so nice....

So why am I leaving? Be it this school or five others, not being lonely at work was just what this ego, self, me, myself and I needed or at least wanted....so what.....

I don't think it is that my house is one commercial break away from a very special episode of Hoarders. I am not even sure it was that Maggie has stories to tell and I found myself not caring to hear them. It wasn't just that dinner was turning into peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. No, there was this call, you know the one. The one that starts out as an inkling and turns into a hunch until one day, you sit in your car knowing what you have to do next.

Some not so nice events happened. But honestly, I think the Holy Spirit was holding me to my inkling/hunch/knowing:  "No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it." 1 Corinthians 10:13...yeah, that's what happened. 

There was nothing French in that temptation mind you, just being clear here. No, it was much darker than that: Me. It was my universe and it very simply orbited me. Now, I know that I am a nurse and so by nature, I serve...but because that is what I do, it served my ID...or whatever that part of my soul that looks only at me and my needs....oh wait...I think that is called sin. Yeah, probably...and I fell in love with it. 

Once upon a time I wrote about how family is never an interruption of ministry. AND my family was not...but my ministry, as nurse, was an interruption of my ministry as wife and mother, my first loves. I have had to be brutally honest here: I suck at doing it all. I mean, suck. I can honestly say, I never once left work at work. Nope, not once. 

Being an all or nothing kind of girl, I have no doubt that I still  have some growing up to do. I will work again. There are better ways to make more money in less time than being a school nurse...and for the first time in forever, I am okay with being lonely at work and even being alone at home. It is okay, not because I don't still love an audience (like that will ever happen!) I just don't need one to feed that ID thing. Funny that I didn't know that ID thing was a thing...until I did. 

Saying goodbye sucks when your heart doesn't want to say goodbye. But in the sweet by and by of it all, I have remembered that my heart is deceitful above all things as David reminds me. I can't follow my heart, it would lead me down the hall to my office, I would put on a pot of coffee, turn on my computer and ignore all that I had just written. 

So say goodbye I must, and I cry I will. That is okay, my eyes look great when I cry...(that was a me moment, in case you missed it) I didn't do my best, but I had a ball sucking at it and maybe it was just the reminder that my sometimes haughty-taughty spirit needed.  In the end, I think my Jesus and I have a few things to celebrate and I remembered that He is far too crazy about me to leave me to my own fleshy self.  I rest knowing that He has a plan and I am not planning on missing it for the lessor portion any more.

I am still crashing the Christmas party though...try and stop me!




                                                                                                                                                                                     

Hosta Roots!

 Last summer I acquired some hosta plants from Yonkers. Well I never got to plant all of it...mostly because there were some very big spiders living in it. So on the side of the driveway it sat. It sat all winter, in Poughkeepsie, with all the ice and all the sub-zero temps. Yeah, that winter.  When the snow melted, I thought I saw some green roots on that hosta but still left it sitting on the edge of the driveway. Look at what has grown, UN-planted.

It got me thinking that the expression that we should bloom where we are planted may be all wrong. Maybe we should bloom even when we aren't planted. Look at those roots! They are healthy and strong and produced such beauty. Maybe being transplanted and  not grounded does not mean that we don't have roots...Maybe we just aren't home yet. 

I have had this sense that I have not yet arrived at the place where I need to plant myself...and yet, I still seem to have some pretty good fruit...just like my Hosta. If they can grow like this without being planted imagine what they will do when they are...and just imagine what I will do, when I am too.

Blessings all,


PS if you are viewing this on your phone, my fabulous hosta picture may not load for some reason beyond my feeble computer brain....but it is really pretty on the computer! Sorry about that.

Normal and Typical

I fell asleep the other night with a memory on my mind. I was in my brother's room, it must have been summer because he had air conditioning and I did not...that was a very hot attack, my bed room. I was "talking" with the guy I was dating and a book caught my eye. I think we were in the middle of breaking up and I cannot believe I just admitted I had a man in a bedroom when I know my girls might read this...BWAH-HA-HA-HA! Oh, that was funny, sigh...they don't red their mother's blog. Where was I? Oh, right, boyfriend, break up, book.

The book had something to do with Adult Children of Alcoholics. When that present day Mr. Not-Gonna'-Happen left, I grabbed the book and started reading. I met myself in those pages and could not put it down. There was a list of character flaws that were particular to the ACOH (Adult Children of Alcoholics) and I found I had most of them. Some of them still come to mind but what popped into my head as I remembered that night was this one:

              "ADULT CHILDREN OF ALCOHOLICS GUESS AT WHAT NORMAL IS."

So wait, you mean not knowing what normal is, is normal? 

I had it happen again when I read the book, "Wild" by so and so, the one that Rease Weatherspoon did the movie for...yeah that one. The writer's mom had died when she was twenty-five. She struggled through her grief by partaking in lust and wanderlust and all types of self destructive behavior. She wound up looking for herself on the Pacific Coast Trail...found herself. Again, I discovered that all the things I did when my mom died were typical.

So wait, you mean I was typical too?

Normal and Typical. Wow. Part of me is thrilled to know that my brokenness is normal and typical in that I am not alone. The other part of me is a little annoyed. I thought I was special...but than again, Salomon told us this before..."The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun." (Ecclesiastes 1:9). Even my realizing this truth, is a truth that was already known before...Normal and typical.

Should that comfort me? Maybe. I think I will let it. Perhaps just knowing that my typical and normal life is extraordinary because it is I who lives it. My sin, my failures, my success, are all a part of the human condition. How amazing that He who is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow already knows. Yes, that is a comfort. Each hair on my head is counted as mine, each freckle on my face is mine...and He says I am a one of a kind, even if my reactions are not. Hmmmm....

Besides my story may be typical and normal but no one tells it like me.

 

Shut up and pray some more.

 "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28

I was driving home yesterday and discussing with  God a why thing. It doesn't so much matter the topic, but it was a typical Maryellen-type-of-why thing...I have this habit of not actually asking God to explain Himself to me but rather letting Him know that I understand the why and He, therefore, doesn't have to come up with an answer. Nice right? I liked to think so. 

I don't like to question God's motives. Being God and all, I just assume He knows what He is all about and so I am suppose to just trust that unknown future to a known God (Yes, I combined a bunch of quotes there so I don't have to remember who said them.) and for the most part, it has worked out for me.  There was no challenge in believing Romans 8:28 because I did, for sure, believe Him.

Here in lies my newly discovered problem: I was getting antsy. I have waited a long time for Him to use those "all things" for the good. I had a definition of what "the good" is and He was not cooperating. I was patient, sometimes. But more often, I was Dad.
 

 If an opportunity was in front of me, I should jump in at it. If I know something, I should say so. If I can help....I should.  I lived out "The do something, even if it is the wrong thing"...not as recklessly as in my youth but still did quite a bit of the wrong things.

But what if, what if, my life was  just a gift for me? What if all of the good, the bad and the ugly, was just for me? What if, "the good" was just mine. Well that can't be it. That would be selfish! God allows things to happen to me so I can use them to help someone else! No way he wants me to just shut up and it keep it all for me....

          Here is the rest of what my heart KNEW for sure:

"Keeping it just for my good alone means it was pointless. If my life was just meant for me, just meant for me, it makes my life a waste. No way You would have let me survive what I have survived if it was just meant for me. Surely my life has more meaning than just for me! IF all of my life was just for me....what a waste of time, what a waste of pain, what a waste of....me."

                                                                       OR

Maybe, just maybe, it means that my doing something is in the shutting up, standing still, kneeling before the God of all. Maybe "shut up and pray" is my doing something, everything after all. Maybe being able to understand the pain someone is in, while in prayer for them is the only "do something" I am suppose to do. Maybe, the more I shut up to the world, the more useful I am in prayer....lets be honest, I gotta' talk to somebody about my day! Maybe, because He knows all the details of me, I can just come and intercede for so and so and the more I pray for so and so or such and such....the more I am blessed.  Maybe that is "the good" he has had waiting for me all along. 

I really did try to figure it all out for a very long time. I did want to serve Him....but mostly because it served me.  I sought out what made me feel most comfortable and doing something, not "just praying" has been my MO....no, it became who I am. But somewhere in the midst of a good marinade of pain, I began to pray...not the usual "help me to use this pain" but rather just asking Him to pour out His blessings on so and so or such and such. The more I prayed for people I honestly don't like, the more I loved them...even if I still didn't like them very much.  Sometimes though, the silence needs to go deeper and so the saga of "shut up and pray" goes deeper as well.

He promises to make us a new creation. In so many, many, many, many (you get the point?) ways, I am. Surely, the old has passed away and God is doing something new. When a  ghiacchieron (Italian for never shuts up) like me, can't help but shut up, He is up to something, so much so, I had to write about it...Oxymoron anyone?

Be blessed and shhhhhh.......
 
 

What I learned in Junior High with only two weeks left to go....

I may  have said it before, but even after 40 plus years, it is nice to finally be one of the most popular girls in junior high.

                                    Things I learned with only two weeks left to go...



I don't like going to school but I love my job.

Making my boss laugh is a worthy goal and easier than I thought it could ever be.

Only other people with dead mothers can play dead mother jokes. Trust me, it is a bonding thing.

People can still betray you...don't take it personally. It really is not you, it really is them.

Lincoln logs float when boys don't flush.

Laughter is contagious even more than the flu.

Ed was right, there is something funny about EVERYTHING.

I am not the only Mamma Bear.

People have already made up their mind. Don't hurt yourself trying to change it.

The practice of others in the past can only be undone by the Truth. It may take time, but it will still set you free.

Sometimes, even the most skilled nurse is helpless when only armed with band-aids and ice packs.

Secretaries are still the heartbeat of the school....they know ALL!

Manipulation is not that hard to pull off.

Having a secret nickname for EVERY teacher is funny.

Small souled people will try to use you, don't let them.

God is the God of all, even in places He isn't suppose to be.

I pray in school everyday...so there!

Wheelchairs can snap in half...it can happen.

A Health Office can be a little like Heaven....you need a pass to get into the Health Office and Jesus is your only pass to get into Glory....Okay, nothing alike. Thought I would stretch that one a bit.

Sometimes the only medicine needed is a listening ear and a hug. 

I can still be unkind in my heart even if my words don't say it out loud....Willing to be re-made...because I must be.

Being disrespected as the mall cop of nursing is not defining unless one lets it be. I know who I am in Christ~~~I can't wear my nursing cap to work because I am saving my scalp for the crown I get to wear in Heaven. Good to be a part of the Royal Family... No one gets to define you except your Heavenly Father...I thought everyone knew that. 



I am pretty sure I learned more than this but seriously, who has time when the fan on the computer has died and I am afraid to keep on it.

One last thing, Showing up to meet the One who is waiting for me EVERY morning, changed everything. His Mercies are still new EVERY morning.

 

Missing the old country...

Holy Week. Sigh....

Growing up Roman Catholic, there were rules I followed. I don't remember going to Holy Thursday mass as a requirement as a kid, much less Good Friday and we all but never went on Holy Saturday for the Easter Vigil. I think Mom went to some of it but it is not a clear memory.

What is clear to me are my late teens and early twenties when I sang in the choir at St. Mary's in Mt. Vernon. We would practice for months on end to be a part of the Holy Week celebration. It was nothing short of spectacular.

From Holy Thursday and the door left open on the tabernacle as we left the church in silence, to the humble Veneration of the Cross on Good Friday, to the endless scripture readings, lighting of the Easter candle, and spectacular joy of belting out "The Gloria" on Holy Saturday night. The sights, the sounds, the smell of all those magnificent flowers....No one does The Tritium like a Roman Catholic.

Truth be told, we were often slightly hung over for the Easter Sunday Mass because we all went out to celebrate the end of Lent on Holy Saturday night. There was this one time my friend Sue and I...never mind.

I  miss it. I miss knowing what to do on these Holiest of Holy Days. I miss kissing the cross on Good Friday at 3pm and feeling as though the day was perfect if it was pouring rain on such a day of solemn devotion. I once pulled up to the church on the hill as the Dolly Parton song, "He is alive!" was playing and thought I had just heard the most perfect song, for the most perfect moment...ever, especially from a none- RC.

I miss knowing what each symbolic element of the Mass stood for. I miss preparing for the Holy Days with each outfit....being a girl means preparing with a wardrobe: jeans were fine for Good Friday but not so much for Holy Thursday and certainly not for Holy Saturday....and the Easter bonnet was just short of the prep work for Easter Sunday.

I miss the package that is the Tritium and how it called one to look....look at the Cross, the agony, the pain, and eventually the empty grave. I loved the pride of being an extraordinarily good Catholic. I was so proud of it. My faith in Christ was laid second only to being the very best Catholic. Oh how I adored it all. I was very good at something and it was being Catholic.

Of course, there in lies my biggest failure you know. My denomination and all the rules, that I knew and understood by heart, had in fact become my god. The governing body of my faith, made me an excellent member. There was nothing I didn't love about The Church. I never believed that none Catholics were not going to Heaven....they just missed out on the fullness of the faith because they didn't have the saints and the sacraments. They (the left footer, Protestant types) were only getting a half a glass and you had to admire what they were doing with that half glass.

It has been well over a decade ago that I left The Church...maybe I left in the beginning because I wanted other Christians to share my faith with and I was living in an area that I could not find anyone to share Him with...Yeah, that had a lot to do with leaving. As time went on though I couldn't marry The Word with all of the Traditions. I found along the way that while I am excommunicated, so are most Catholics. Both the Council of Trent and Vatican II never reversed the teaching that unless you submit to ALL the teachings of The Church, you are already excommunicated. Think priests should be allowed to marry? You are out. Are you using even none-abortive birth control methods? You are out. Pretty sure you can tell God you are sorry for a sin with out the benefit of the confessional? You are out.

Last time I checked, the thought police and the birth control police of The Church are not standing  in anyones home, looking for a way to kick you out. The Church pretty much works on the honesty system. That system requires The Truth in order to function.

The Truth...there in lies the rub. I can't be Roman Catholic. Once in a while, my kids will wish we were because the traditions are so very beautiful. And we live in NY for crying out loud, just about the entire state is Catholic.

I have known more sold out for Jesus, Roman Catholics than you jan begin to imagine. I've also met some nice conservatives in the Protestant world. There are saved Catholics just like there are condemned Protestants. I've long realized that just because someone says, "Lord, Lord!" does not make them a Christian  in any way. You can go to daily mass and never encounter the living God just as easily as you can do every Beth Moore bible study known to woman and there is no proof you are believer.

So this week, I am like a man with out a country. I feel like an immigrant who longs for the old country, even while I know it is no where I will ever return to. I sometimes fear my children will return, in spite of the hard work it took for me to leave. I wish we Protestants had more ceremony with our Truth. Some of it was so spectacular. I felt like I belonged to a very important Body. Now, I just don't know what to do during the Holiest of Holy days. The kids want to go to the drive in tomorrow night to see Frozen and Captain America...it feels so wrong. But am I any more right to have them put on sack cloth and ashes on Good Friday?

There is not a conclusion to this post....I still don't know what the answer to my longing is, except to rest in Him. He is my all and all. He died on a cross for me? The worst of the worst. Me, a sinner who deserves nothing short of the fires of Hell...He died that horrific death, for me. And because He rose out of the grave...I am alive in Christ. All the trappings are stripped away and I am left with just a God who saved me.

Maybe being left with "just" that is the conclusion.

Everyone needs an Annie. You should so get one....

Dear Frick,

I was just tenderly recounting to my beloved that we don't get our daily chat in anymore. All the years you commuted home we chatted, via cell phone, while I made dinner for first one, than two, and eventually five. We would go a year or more with out seeing each other but we were all caught up for sure! Now I am working full time and you part...what a switch! Not bad, just a new season...it got me waxing poetic about a friendship that has out lasted every social media trend, hair style, and just where jeans land on the hips.

You tell the tale of how my mom painted me as a saint in your CCD class and you expected this goody-two-shoes to have wings and a halo when we met on the public bus to Our Lady of Victory Academy...you quickly found out that my wings were bent, my halo crooked and you were not at all sure which side I was an angel for! For my part, you were a "public" (code we Catholic School kids called public school kids) therefore, I knew you could kick my arse...you could, as I would find out around a Christmas tree many years later, but I diverse. As a public, I had a healthy fear and respect for you...we would so not be friends. That much I knew for sure.

I don't remember how we wound up at the mall together or who talked to the cute guy from Dobbs Ferry High School first but we were friends from that moment on. We found more adventures than I think we should haver...wild for sure, we were! What was the name of that club? Camouflage?

 Somewhere between the things that break up a friendship, be it life, a husband, a job, a kid, an argument...whatever that moment is, that creates a drift that shows one a life is still quite full when a friend is no longer a part of it, never took root in our lives.

Why are we still friends? Mommy B. and Rosey.

Did you know that if I swung by your house and you weren't home, Rosey would sit me in the kitchen and chat with me? She would ask about how mom was, ask me what I was going to do, usually tell me to knock it off about something and remind me that my job was to take care of her. Sometimes you would come home, sometimes I would finish my tin cup of whatever and head home. She showed me what hospitality was...I had rarely seen it before your home. I have never doubted that I was welcome...I still know I am.

 Mommy B ADORED her Annie. Actually, she called you Annie, I just followed suit. She prayed for you and your joy and your life and for Paul when he came along. She prayed for our friendship and your folks and for your sister, Susan, and even for Billy when I was his CCD teacher...she prayed when your Grandmother had to bury her son and told me to ask how we could help, all that time on the vent...she prayed for her Annie. She had a heart well beyond the classroom for you.

We have loved each other, hated each other,  forgiven each other, offended each other, teased each other, and held back each others hair...There is little we have not been big or little about.

We had moms who loved us both...and they were willing to put aside what ever we had done to wound each other...extraordinary woman our moms!

In the last year, you have shown me a part of Mommy B that I didn't understand before. I am so humbled. Thank you...you healed a something I didn't know was there...and I hope that I have shown you what a Savior can do in a life that is wounded. He knew, before a single star was hung or named, that this season would come...He knew and so He gave you a testimony to rest in...that He is God and He knows what He is all about. You have chosen to trust the Greater Hope and for that, He is greatly pleased..  For my part, I could not be more proud of you....nope, just thought about it again, and I am proud of you for sure!

Just heavy on my heart these days girly. Growing up with you has been like having a sister with out the wardrobe drams...well, most of it. I did take those pleated, pin striped jeans that I never gave back and have you seen my turtle neck with the ice cream cones that you borrowed for Halloween in 1984? Never mind...Susan still gets John when I am gone. You get to know that we may be trouble together this side of Heaven, but just you wait to see the adventure we will have together in Glory!

Just call out my name,

Frack



                                                             

Raise your children well...

I've often joked that while fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, a little fear of mom is pretty wise too!

So now, imposing the words, "Most deeply impressed of..." into fear, are my children at least a little most deeply impressed of their parents?

Maybe I have this all wrong and if I do, I suppose the Holy Spirit will clarify for me, but maybe Mom and Dad are not just here to train up their children...Maybe we are here for practice.

Not wanting to take God's Word out of context here but if our children are proven trustworthy in the little things (and John and I are so little in comparison of our God...so teeny, tiny and nothing) then they will be trusted with the big things. I suppose I am saying that as our children have practiced respecting, being deeply impressed of the rules of our home, maybe that translates into respecting, being most deeply impressed of the rules set forth in God's Word.

I was recently explaining to one of the kids that the precepts of God are an awful lot like a fenced in yard...it is a huge yard and with in the confines of that property, you are free. Beyond the fence though there are zombies...walking dead that are there to devour you until you are as dead and walking as the zombies themselves. You may slip in and out of that fence now and again, thinking there is something you really need out there but the truth is everything you need is in the boundaries that were set up for you. Of course the risk you take going beyond that border is walking dead....There is incredible freedom in side that fence...and only death beyond it. Unlike some cable shows that can scare the crayons out of you, the fenced yard is not a prison...it is just the dirt side of Paradise!

I am so using the cultural relevance of the times here folks...don't judge!

Parenting is hard work...parenting aliens (teenagers) is unreal, hard work. I have questioned our parenting here on more than one occasion and am in a season of big, huge, what-am-I-going-to-do, questioning at the moment...maybe that will give my children a better mom and give them a better shot at knowing the Truth. There is no more flawed a mama on the planet than I...for sure. Proof again that my children may not always know how desperately they need a savior...but I do know how much I need Him and because I do, I know they will survive me.

We just passed the eight year mark that my own dad is gone.  In addition to teaching me that things can fall off the back of a truck very easily, Ed taught me that there is nothing I could ever do, ever, that would make it so I was not welcome back home...That is the lesson I have carried on: There is always redemption, there is always forgiveness, there is always reconciliation on this side of the fence....always. Because of The Cross there is no "too far" from our hearts.  Given the number of times that I danced with zombies, how could I ever offer anything less...

Practice precious children on us. "Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you." Exodus 20:12 

Pft...Church? I am busy!

Today was church...but there is so much to do here at the kingdom of Schlusser. This coming week will have four teenagers living under our roof...there had better be cake, or I am in big trouble with the soon to be youngest teen.
Not to mention that after months and months of fixing and cleaning our rental, I need to fix and clean our home. Time is escaping very quickly on me and I have to paint the girls room...we have it half way done and we are still pretending we love the color, don't you know. I have a rug to rip out. I have doors to paint that lovely, not at all lavender but heather gray. I have trim to do....

There are meals to plan and prepare for the week.  I am just trying to write my blog and that almost-youngest-teen is here to discuss the fact that he wants me to go onto Dealdash to buy him an Iphone...okay, he got my point when I stared at him while typing...so glad I got that typing regents after all. Where was I? Right...

You see my point don't you? I am terrible at time management, I have no time and I have a kazillion things to get done. I want my family room back, so the girls room has to be finished...NOW. Church? Seriously, I am just fine with Jesus right now. He will understand. He knows I am commitment phobic or He would have been on me for blowing off prayer meeting this week. He knows that studying the Word and being in prayer for my church while we are in a season of prayer and fasting is time consuming. He would want me to clean and fix...after all, home is sort of a church....I am practically a deaconess here for crying out loud!

"WHAT?" Said in a don't-judge-me-tone...

After telling John I thought I would stay home and him readily agreeing with me (same thing happened on Wednesday night for prayer meeting by the way) I grabbed my cell phone so I could text the oldest teen that we were not meeting her at service...she had planned on skipping out too, after she taught her Sunday school class...'Cause she is very busy too you know.

A text and a voice message from a deaconess at our church, reminding me that the organic grape juice for communion had been set up for us in the copy room...we had discussed the potential for reactions when my kids receive so she addressed it with the church board... I just needed to grab it and bring it back to our seats and place them in the nifty, little communion cup holders we have in each pew. Be blessed, she said, see you in a bit, she said.

CRAP, I said!

Scramble people, this is not a drill! MOVE IT! John to the shower, me with out eye make up...everyone will just assume I was crying...again. Don't worry about pretty people, just worry about getting there!

We made it in record time...three cars to the same place all because I can't count and my nice, new little car won't fit six people. We skidded in side ways to both our parking spots and pews, still pumped with endorphins that would keep us awake the entire sermon.

It was a great sermon...one we all needed to hear. It is a great community, one we need to support prayerfully and in action. I have a blog post to write about sloth...not the one from Ice Age, but genuine sloth. Today reminded me why. I am busy, but so is everyone...so is He. Yet, He has never not had time. Somewhere my integrity of being a believer is wrapped up in my sloth of being a sinner...I am a new creation with some old, busy, poorly planned, habits to break. 

PS we sang one of my favorite hymns today...enjoy the Brad Paisley version there of...

JH...

                                All of life is junior high...

                      What I have learned after two weeks of working in a junior high school:

 

Stomach aches always start when you wake up and get worse by the time math class starts.

Familiarity does not mean respect.

Other parents use the line, "Go to school and see how you feel. Call me if you need me." and don't mean it eihter.

I can love other people's children for seven hours a day but can pray for them much longer.

Just because I hear someone's voice as Foghorn Leghorn, does not mean that is how it really is.

Cramps are still a great excuse to get out of gym.

A disabled child still makes my heart skip a beat...oh the joy!

Getting a case of the giggles during a fire drill is normal...laughter still comes out of the shoulders.

Triple charting is still  silly.

Music makes the day go faster.

First period is really long, last period is longer.

LAST MINUTE is a life style choice.

People don't always like the truth.

Manipulation  is a tool often used...Use wisdom to fight it.

Praying for wisdom is a necessity.

Other people are carrying way heavier loads than I have ever nightmared of...I am blessed beyond compare.

Miracles happen in the nurses office.

Secretaries are demi-gods....if I believed in lesser gods, they would be the ones. Seriously, love them.

Bosses can me normal...who knew?

Don't quit when its really, really bad...the rewards may just be around the next semester!

Grace is sometimes just a hot cup of coffee sitting on your desk early in the morning.

The ridiculous happens side by side with the miraculous.

Laughter is still the best medicine: "A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones." Proverbs 17:22

I love my job!

 

Tangled roots

"The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding." Proverbs 9:10 is probably the very first scripture I ever knew by heart. Mom use to say to me all the time and it just so happens our pastor has been talking about it a lot of late.

 It has been a very hard year.  John and I attended prayer meeting at our church last week...there wasn't a hand clap, foot stomp, or arm waive to be had. Just prayer. There was no show, no where to hide and a community I have been trying to hide myself in for the last year and a half now knows that I am as broken as I have ever been...Being vulnerable in front of brothers and sisters in a tiny room dedicated to nothing but prayer...

Yesterday, our pastor replaced the the word, "fear" (as in Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom) with the phrase, "Most deeply impressed of..." and even though I have heard him say it at least a hundred times, it suddenly struck my heart with a question, "What am I most deeply impressed of?"

I am most deeply impressed of anyone knowing that I am this broken.

I am most deeply impressed of dying in a fiery crash when anyone but me drives.

I am most deeply impressed of being considered a flake.

I am most deeply impressed of being a widow.

I am most deeply impressed of not being able to pay our bills.

I am most deeply impressed with not getting enough sleep.

I am most deeply impressed of our rental not being good enough to rent so we can pay the mortgage....

See a pattern here?

I always miss my mom but I try to make a day it on the fifth of each August and have for the last twenty years.
Twenty years...and I just now understand what that simple statement of faith means. The hand clapping did stop, so did the arm waiving and a foot stomping. I like to think He finds our enthusiasm somewhat endearing...but the deep and tangled roots of my dogma are beginning to give forth a new and beautiful fruit...and while the process is long and somewhat painful, the fruit is delicious.

I am most deeply impressed of my God and that is the beginning of wisdom. Good advice Ellen gave her daughter so long ago.

Wood floors...

Just about every waking hour is being spent at our old house prepping it and getting it ready for a new tenant or Wells Fargo is going to have another house to get rid of. I do not like being a landlord and yet here we are getting ready...UGH! This is not how I wanted to spend my summer.

There was a piece of broken oak flooring in the master bedroom...I lived with it for the seven and a half years we lived in the house. Our last two tenants lived with it...but the next tenant...Nope.  John was determined to replace it. 

But you can't just buy a couple of pieces of oak wood flooring...gotta' buy a case. But you can borrow a sample board for twenty five bucks....if you don't bring it back, they keep your deposit. I was fine with that. Twenty five bucks was worth making my man happy. I would just give up the deposit.

Little problem. The boys at the big-box home improvement store could not figure out how to charge me the deposit. 

Manager, "You are going to bring it back, right?"
Me, "Of course."
Jack, "Mom?"
Me, "Of course."
Manager, "Don't worry about it."

Of course I bring it the house and John dismantles the sample and puts it into the floor....and Jack and I look at each other. John is confused...we fill him in...now what do we do?

1) Go back to store and tell them it got tossed in the garbage! So lie to hide the fact that we stole? Seems like a problem.

2) Don't worry about it...it is just a sample anyway. Sounds like stealing to me.

So what did we do? We went back to store, same kid was on the register, same manager was also working. We explain that we kept the sample and that it was now a part of our floor. We would like to pay the $25.00 fee. 

Manager is annoyed..."Don't worry about it. I don't know anything. Keep your mouth shut."
John and I, "We don't want to steal it. How can we pay for it? 
Kid at register, "I don't think I have ever had a customer insist on paying for something."
John, "That is too bad. Can you do it?"

It took them about ten minutes to figure out how and what to charge us but they finally did.  

Kid at register, "That was something. It really was no big deal."
Me, "The Rule Book says 'Don't steal'...not 'Don't steal bit things but little things are okay.'"
Kid at register smiles.

Integrity is inconvenient. What is the old expression? The world is equally shocked at seeing Christianity criticized and practiced. Nice that we got to shock someone this weekend.
 

Like a cat shasing a laser...

"Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." Psalm 139: 23-24

Okay, I have read that psalm at least a kazillion times (and that is way more than a bazillion, just so you know) since I was a kid.  The very first line of psalm 139 states that, "You search me..." and out right says that He already has, in fact, searched us...He knows our every action, thought and word and work....He does not need me to ask Him to search me...He already has and since He created me, He knows every crease, every cell, every bump, lump or toe nail and which ones are fake...  But there is just a little turning in there where the psalmist requests that search....

1) "Search me, God"
 Okay, is anyone else marveling at what a scary idea that is? Seriously, come take a look at the mess my heart is Lord.

2) "Know my heart;"
Ah, what a wonderful thought (use sarcastic tone while reading that).....ever cried your eyes out when something you really wanted didn't work out? Ever consider that (remembering the whole council of the Word is seamless) He knows your deepest hearts desires and to give you what you believe you want would destroy what is the true desire of your heart?

2a) "test me"
Oh, God, no tests!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Except to live with out them, how else would He prove us faithful? To whom is He proving us faithful? Not just to the world but to our selves and to the faithful who has come before us...Recently, I got to pray with/over and anointed a dearest friend getting ready to sit for her RN boards...I prayed the same prayer my own mom prayed over me when I took my boards 20 years ago...He proved her a faithful nurse.

2b) "...and know my anxious thoughts."
There are so many. My biggest problem is how many times I have invited that anxiety in for cake and coffee...I have spent a great deal of time entertaining those anxious thoughts instead of entertaining the thought that He is thinking of me.

3) "See if there is any offensive way in me..."
Seriously, asking God to look for my sins? Why would I do that...after all the psalmist has already established that He already knows my sin, even the ones in the deepest recesses of my heart...so why would I have Him look for them? Ah...the answer of course is revealed in the next line...

4)"...and lead me in the ways everlasting."
So He can set me free, silly! It struck me last night that His Word is a lamp unto my feet and here I am running around in circles with a pin light trying to find my way in this dark world...when I have THE Light of the world as my tour guide! What an URT I am sometimes.

God does not mess with us...But He will allow us to follow a pin light like a cat chasing a laser if we insist...and even though He knows, He waits for us to come...each morning, He waits and longs to lead us in the ways everlasting.

Don't sit in the thing this time...

In October of 2010 we found a disemboweled something that had fought it's way out of the cat and won. You can read about it here. I reference the post because at the time, "The Thing" disappeared... Did the cat re-eat the now, dead-for-sure-Thing? Did it slither away because it wasn't really dead? Was it a Squirrel Zombie? Have not thought about The Thing in a very long time...until Last Night...(BUM-BUM-BUMMMM!)

I went out to sit on my balcony and sat in my favorite wicker chair...it was raining, so I didn't think anything of the damp arse I was experiencing...until I went in and the children began to scream because there were squirrel guts and an eye ball hanging from my rear end. Yup, either the cat left me a disemboweled squirrel or there is a Squirrel Zombie attack going on. Either way, I think we can all agree on    "EEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" for the rest of my life! Needless to say, I threw out the sun dress I had to shimmy down out of and scrubbed by butt...but I still have a memory of it and EEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! Perhaps it was the sight of that eye ball bouncing off of my dress and across the tiled floor that has me, well, floored.

It got me thinking about that post (the one you can get to by clicking on "here" up there) so I went looking for it. There was just something about the whole event that got me to thinking about how "A Thing" in our life can pop up over and over and over again kind of like a Squirrel Zombie. I've certainly had my share of Squirrel Zombie attacks in this life. 

There is not just one defining moment that that makes up the life of a Mair...Name that ONE defining moment? Which one is it...and why, at various points, am I in the middle of examining a new aspect of anyone moment. 

At the time, I wrote the last post I used this verse: 

"I am the door (gate); whoever enters through me will be saved. He will come in and go out, and find pasture." John 9:10

Today I saw this: 

 
Hmmm...Could our Heavenly Father use a Squirrel Zombie to get my attention? Not sure I am going to examine the significance of squirrel innards on my arse much longer...but I am going to examine this verse and all the ones surrounding it over the next few days. 

Don't play right...

"Jesus went on to say, "To what, then, can I compare the people of this generation? What are they like? They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling out to each other: "'We played the pipe for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not cry.'" Luke 7:31-32

I've read it a million times, probably acted it out in Godspell too since the same verse appears in Matthew. Never, ever knew what it meant.

I love the fact that Jesus didn't play right...Dig around that verse and see that no one could figure this guy out. He was suppose to act a certain way and here He was a friend of tax collectors and sinners..."But wisdom is proved right by all her children." Luke 7:35.

He hung out with sinners but never behaved like one. When He was with the religious dudes, He didn't get all hoty-toyty...Can't you just imagine how frustrating He must have been?

Being who I am and living the amazing life I have, has often sent my heart spinning....Here I would be, looking at the polished people assuming they were better than I....seriously, wouldn't you? I can be hot tempered, impetuous, emotional...okay, that just described my menopausal state, but in reality that is me!

I've spent a good portion of my life being so insecure that I was desperate for the approval of just about ANYONE in authority or whom I assumed was in authority over me. I assumed others were better because they were kinder or more successful or fill in the blank there...I had pretty low standards. I would be completely whipped around upon the discovery of their feet of clay. In theory, I always knew they had them...but when I peaked under the flowing robes and saw them...I was often set aside because I had actually seen them. I wasn't playing right.

In the last couple of years, I've lost more friends than I gained. I have, again, been spun around by it...but this last go around, I didn't crumble. Now don't think I didn't cry, 'cause you know I did...sometimes a lot. To some degree, I didn't have a chance to think twice but to stand firm in Truth...and I have found that Truth is still relative, even to believers. Compromising the Truth is a game of folly and I didn't play right. I paid for it...Oh boy have I ever.

 Now don't think for a minute I was standing on a pompous foot  and yelling from a street corner, "SINNERS! SINNERS!!!!!!!!!!" I simply asked that we pray, that we work towards deliverance, that we speak the Truth and deal with the problem. Needing as much forgiveness as I do, I just assumed that everyone knew that they did too...Not being willing to pretend something isn't wrong, is not a gift I have. The problem with having an elephant in the room is that it will crap on the rug...the clean up is way more involved than just removing the darn elephant. I just don't play right.

By now, you know that I am not all that "that" and a bag of chips...or least you should know that by now! When I get to Glory, I have no doubt there is a list of "should" haves and a whole bunch of "could" haves that are waiting for me...but I am beginning to realize that there are going to be a lot of, "That's MY girl" too. I am nothing short of nothing with out Him but with Him? Yeah, I'm pretty hot stuff!

I played by His rules and I am all the better for it...Jesus, friend of sinners...of whom I have often been the worst.

Schools out for this school nurse!!!!!!!!!

YIPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

Over stated? Perhaps....Schools out for summer! Last night we spent the evening parodying "One Day More" from Le Mis and the brevity was welcome given that earlier I had a temper tantrum over my child who had broken my favorite bowl and the disastrous  kitchen...I cussed like an ER nurse and I think I made some words up. Just bein' real with ya's.  I know I can't have nice things so lets just move on...guilt trip to continue on another time.

 I had the best preceptor EVER in my co-worker Sharon. She is simply the kindest woman I have ever met...with a gift for sarcasm that makes me want to be her friend forever and ever. She even allowed me to Pinterest something in her office...seriously, am I blessed or what?  When I grow up (meaning when I have been at this in 10 years like she has been) I want to be just like her, just taller and probably more fresh. But you get it.

That said, what of this year? Oiy...if I were a drinking woman...okay, stop laughing at that and lets get back to the year, shall we?

Being a school nurse this year was just a few chapters short of having a "Cherry Ames" novel on our hands here...seriously, all I needed was my cap...

 
There were days when I could not say "It is well with my soul" because it was so disturbed with in me. I learned more than I knew I needed to know...and how desperately I need His grace way more than I need my own ability. It was sufficient, His grace I mean.

But I made a promise back in December to the blogesphere and my own heart...that I would remember not to forget. But I did. I didn't pray every day as I said I would. I didn't keep my own struggles in the perspective of what I said I would.

In the last two weeks or so, I remembered. Yes, I had a tough year, very...but it wasn't Sally Cox RN tough. Sally Cox RN, you remember, is the school nurse from Sandy Hook. She buried how many of the children who's immunization records she went over with a fine tooth comb. She buried her principle and her co-workers.  We all have moved on...I can't imagine she or her co-workers or the families ever will. 

So when you are relaxing or working or NOT reading with the kids...remember Sally Cox RN.  When it all seems heavy, remember them all.

Blessed and Humble summer all!

 

Go get 'em!

 What is a blog for if not to brag on my kid? Elizabeth is about to graduate from High School...today is her last day. She has complete and succeeded at what she was given to do. Why do we celebrate an accomplishment that was required? I mean, in all honesty, a high school graduate is seriously just completing the base minimum of what is expected of any kid in our country. I often remind my kids that their Poppy was on his way to fight in the Korean War by the time he was 17...so why do we make such a fuss out of doing something so cushy like graduating from high school?

Maybe we celebrate out of habit. When my own grandmother graduated from high school in the '20's it was a big deal...it meant that you were able to stay in school instead of working to put food on the table for your family. A generation later it meant that the kids of the greatest generation had successfully given to their kids what they were not given themselves. To my generation it meant we were heading off to college...for many of us we were the first to do so. My brother was the first to go to college in our extended family and the first to become an officer in the Navy, I became the first RN...that is a lot of accomplishment in a very short time.

But for Liz's generation what does it mean? I think it is the ending of "go do this" and the beginning of "what do you want to do" my dear. From this point on, she gets to choose how she learns, where she learns, and even the why of her learning. She gets to start a real job in a real office and drive and take trains and go to a school that is no longer paid for by the good tax payers around her. It has suddenly become HER LIFE.

HER LIFE? HER FAITH? HER LOVES and HER HATES? Wait a minute! WHY am I celebrating? Apron strings are getting cut with a hack saw but certainly not a scissor! Sigh...

Do I trust that I gave her everything she needs to go out in to the big, bad world? Some days. I told her about Jesus...I told her and I showed her. Or at least I tried. She will still ask, some times, what I think...but she is a woman who knows what she wants, as much as any about-to-be-18 year old woman can or thinks she can. I figure I have about four or five more years before she realizes I am not a complete idiot...but that is as it should be.

What can I say? I am so proud of what she chose to do in High School from rowing to theater...although referring to herself as a "thespian" just about sent her little brother into a panic..."No, Jack...not a 'lesbian' but a 'thespian' and yes those are two different things."  We did nice work there John...all by the grace given to a couple of parents who didn't even know how much we needed it until a Lizzy Lou came along and changed us forever...for the better.

Go get 'em tiger!

 Love,
Mom
 

     ...Because I knew you, I have been changed for good.

And that I cannot change for sure.


                                                                                                                                                                      

Twas a two days after Christmas and creatures (the dogs) were stirring, waking up the entire house. Ugh...so much for sleeping in to the late hour of 7am...Not bitter much at all, for sure.

These past few months were suppose to be quite different....but like my morning, quite different then I planned. So different. There were doors that kept getting slammed in my face, but I trudged onward towards a goal that didn't exist...until I used some good, old fashioned, Holy Spirit given, common sense. Common sense is often in short supply in my world, very short supply.

...and when common sense is used, don't be surprised when you are asked by godly people if are sure you really heard from God...you see there in lies the rub. There is a reason we Christians say things like, "I feel....I believe...I sense...I am pretty sure...I heard from God on this."  All of the prelude is so that if we are wrong, it won't be God's fault. It also leads others to point at you and say, "Well if you really heard from God, you would not have been wrong."

It is a year now that I began to ask some very hard questions about why I believed what I believed.  Do I believe that God can and does break into this dark world of ours and still performs miracles? I sure do! Do I believe I need to pray at all times? I sure do! Do I believe that I am a new creation and that I can do all things in Christ? I didn't...but I do now.

I have spent most of my life knowing that I am as incapable and ignorant and nothing as could ever be...but somewhere along the line, I missed an incredible fact: I am made in the image of God. I have been reborn into the image of Christ. The old has passed away and something new is here instead. I took Maryellen as an amazing creation of God, the workmanship of a master craftsman out of the entire equation. Somehow I missed that part of my faith...Even as I proclaimed that I am nothing with out Him, what I really meant was that I was nothing, period...and that my friends is a lie straight out of the pit of Hell.

The same is true for you...I know He can and does the extraordinary every day, in my life and yours. I don't mean to down play the God of all...just don't sell yourself short...in knowing you are the workmanship of His hands, you bring glory and praise to His name....and don't blame your mistakes on not hearing from Him...there is nothing wrong with your hearing. If man didn't make mistakes, we would be Him...and your not so there.

Common sense...use it. He gave it to you in the first place.