Dry run...

In case you missed my Facebook post yesterday, I sent my man out to a wedding alone. I was feeling like I needed to be here for the kids after all the running around I did last week. My new BFF, Fran, came over and did my hair, John got dressed and out the door. He would attend the ceremony and come back to get me for the reception.

Perfect plan...

or at least it was until he got to the empty church...yeah, the wedding is on the 5th of September...today. Urt.

Thank God he was a good sport, but unfortunately, it means I have to go to the whole thing today. Kids, you are on your own!

Since I had extra time, I got to fret all over again about what I would wear to the wedding. I tried on every dress in the closet and modeled them for my teenagers and John...now I remember why I went wedding dress shopping alone. At the time I tried on three dresses and bought the third one.

Dress number one, full length, teal:
Brennan: "Too low. Are you going to wear a cami underneath?"
Liz: "Too hoochy-mama."
John: "It's a little too formal."
Caity: "You look so beautiful!"

Dress number two, above the knee, black, swing dress:
Liz: "It makes you look skinny but your legs are too pale."
Brennan: "I don't like it."
John: "It's awful black. Yes, like you are going to a madam's funeral."
Caity: "You look so beautiful!:

Dress number three, tiered skirt, halter top:
Liz: "Gives you back fat."
Brennan: "You look like you are going to do the Mexican Hat Dance."
John: "It's fine."
Caity: "You look so beautiful."
Jack: "Let's dance!"

Dress number three, little black dress, and I mean the perfect little black dress!
Liz: "Yup. That looks great."
Brennan: "Wear that one!:
John: "Yeah, it's good."
Caity: "I don't know..."
Jack: "Can we do the Mexican Hat Dance again?"

Okay, I made my decision. Little black dress it is. Run to Macy's, throw our fiscal responsibility to the wind. Buy stockings...
No, I don't need the "D" size. Thanks for asking girls.
Yes, the four inch pumps are a little high. Never stopped me before. Yes, I can walk in them.

Seriously? How dare they even ask!

(Okay, between you and me: Oh my word they are high! Did my knee always hurt when I walked in hooker pumps? No, this is new...they were on sale, I got them anyway. Besides, they are closed toe...you know what I mean. I don't have to glue on new toe nails to wear them! Duh.)

Put the whole thing on and showed the man...

He stared at the shoes with that look...not the good one, like "WOW! You look amazing!" more like the "I am going to have to carry her home after she cripples herself." Ah-huh.

...and then he said: "Well, no one will mistake you for the bride."

Sigh...I still don't know what I am wearing.

The Harried House Wife...

The past few weeks have been nothing short of "RUN!" for me around here. Unfortunately, I think at least half of my children are bored out of their minds.

I wonder if Mary ever had seasons like this in her house...
"James, you are going to have to get one of the other mom's to put you on her donkey to get to Hebrew class tomorrow. I have to run over to the temple with Jesus so He can be about His Father's work."
"Aw, come on. You ALWAYS take Him where ever He wants to go. You treat Him like the Messiah!"
"Keep talking back to me like that James and I am telling your Brother!"

Each hour brings a new task to accomplish, either in house or in the car.

In the mornings I run my oldest to swim practice...something I am thrilled she has been doing. Or at least I was until she told me the time for practice changed to the afternoon...and I cried. Yeah, don't mess with a mommy's running. Her coach called the other night to tell me not to worry about the time changes and that she could work with me about getting Liz where she needs to be. Coach Mary is one of five children and I have no doubt has some residual mercy for mommies on run time. Bless her heart.

In the afternoons I run Jack to either his tutor or football. He has a new assistant coach that we will call "new George" because he is new and his name is George. We already have the best head coach, "Taliban George" thusly named for the two or three tours he has served for our nation over seas in the war on terror. We've known Taliban George for over five years now and we adore him. When he called last night to tell me practice was cancelled because of the heat, I told him I had a problem with New George.

"What did he do?" Asked with the gruff voice of the Marine he is.
"Evidently New George has a problem with Jack being late to practice. In the five years you've known us, we are only late if there is a reason. Last time I checked, Jack does not drive. So if New George has a problem with Jack running late, he can address it with me or John. Okay?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Good point." Said Taliban George.
Hooh-rah!

In between yesterday, we threw a party for Caity's birthday....yeah, the bathroom does need to be cleaned downstairs, dear child. No, you can't just close the door. Thank you.
Yes, I mean all the papers need to be picked up.
Close the garage door, means close the garage door.
Sigh...I am sorry, Caity. When you said you wanted an Oreo Cookie cake, I assumed you wanted a cake made with home made Oreo cookies crumbled in and on it. I had no idea you wanted a cake that looked like an Oreo...I am pretty good, but The Cake Boss, I am not.

John gave Caity her purity ring last night. Oh, so pretty just like she is.
The darling thing just wanted to show me her gifts...sorry dear, your three hours of fame are over. I need to move on to the next task. Show me later, okay?

No Maggie, let's not talk about your party right now. I have Brennan's party, then Jack's party, Halloween, Daddy's birthday, Thanksgiving and the Christmas party to plan first. Sorry. I know having your birthday three days before Christmas was poor planning on my part, but it was the best I could do.

Brennan and I went to a meeting for my sister-in-law earlier in the week. She is not well and living about an hour south of us. John and I met with her to discuss her moving closer to us. The wheels are in motion on that and I asked for a week or two reprieve from running on this subject. The powers that be must have seen the look in my eye that meant they needed to say yes...and so they did.

After the meeting, Brennan attended her open house for Junior High...yeah, late bus is no more. Budget cuts you know. So if Brennan does join anything, I will be picking her up. Of course I will.

Caity, when does Civil Air Patrol start again?

John, your suit needs to go to the cleaners for the wedding we have tomorrow...no, I don't know where the pants are. Yes, the blue shirt is fine.

I told him this morning I that I was not going to the wedding itself, just the reception. I have been gone to much this week and feel like I need to be here for the kids...

"You can skip that too if you want to. I understand..."He says as he grabs his to go coffee and no lunch...oldest child forgot to bake the bread.

Actual translation: "I am trying to help. "

Wife translation: "I can do this without you. Daggers in the heart. Tears."

Proud to say, the actual translation won out.

"We need to sit down together to work out what I am doing with my jobs." He said, passing the first test of wife stress...should have quit while he was ahead.

"Yeah, I'll get back to you with my day planner." Said only in my heart.

"Okay, Hon. I'm on it." Said with my mouth.

Oh, and while I thought I was looking all cute and tiny again, evidently I was way fatter this past year then I thought. 15 pounds gone, but at least 10 more to go...how could all of this running mean nothing fits? I am going with the fact that I am all muscle. Yeah, big hanging muscle on the front of my chest like mozzarella hanging from the ceiling of a good Italian deli.

My next post will be written from a home for the bewildered.

"Run ye to and fro through the streets of Jerusalem..." (Jerimiah 5:1)

Sorry, Lord. I can't run around Jerusalem right now. I gotta run me through the streets of Poughkeepsie!

black and white....who cares?

"I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. "MLK 8/28/63

I am a Martin Luther King nut. I am probably one of the few people in my generation who can tell you that he was killed on April 4, 1968. I know this fact because it happens to be the very day I was born.

When I was little and Mom would speak of it, she would claim that she was the only white woman in Yonkers who knew the date off the top of her head. Story goes that she had a "colored woman" as her room mate in the hospital and Mom had to watch the entire funeral. I remember very clearly asking one night, at the age of 5, how many colors mom's room mate was? I was sure she must look like a stained glass window. I couldn't understand why God would give that room mate of my mom's so many pretty colors and only give me the pale pink...

Race relations is not something I thought a great deal about growing up in the suburbs of Yonkers. I have stories about blacks and whites and maybe they need to be written down for another time.

But MLK was always important to me. In 7th grade, our entire class had to memorize a famous speech and present it to the class. We had a list to choose from and I chose "I have a dream". The winner of the class presentation got to go on to the next level. Long story short, this Irish girl pounded her fist about insufficient funds for the black brothers and sisters in our nation. And I won. It was the first time I ever knew I was good at something...no one was surprised that my skill including talking or an audience.

So why am I blogging on MLK this am? 'Cause it's my blog, duh.

And because it's heavy on my heart. Given the number of people who attended the Restoring Honor Rally in DC over the weekend, I would say it is heavy on the hearts of many Americans.

I think what pushed me to go to DC in that heat this past weekend was way more then just a desire to schlep my family to the steps of the Lincoln memorial to be in a crowd of way over 500,000. And for me, the deal was sealed a couple of weeks earlier in church of all places.

As we sat on a Wednesday night healing service, the guest pastor said something along the lines about how he hates it when he hears that a white person is willing to worship next to a black person but if that same black person were to move in down the block from them they would be up in arms...as ridiculous as the statement was, what drove the knife into my heart was the family in front of me. They happened to be black and the entire family started to nod their heads and shout "AMEN!"

I would have walked out right then and there had I not needed to be there for my dear friend and her family.

Seriously? REALLY?

Is that what I am thought of? Does the sister-in-Christ in front of me really think that way about me? Did they just do to me what they are accusing me of doing to them? I was just judged by the color of my skin and because I am so pasty and pale, I must be a bigot? Seriously?

Because I am white, I must hate my neighbor who happens to be from Nigeria? Because I am white, I must hate my Puerto Rican neighbor across the street? Should I hate the elderly neighbor next door to me too? Or how about the blended family behind us...you know divorced and remarried?

I've paced my living room rug raw on this issue more then once as my friend Sara and I have discussed it over and over again. When I first fell in love with my dear friend, I didn't know what her ethnicity was. I did know that her son Sonjay was best friends with my son Jack. I knew she loved the Lord and wanted to love him more...and I knew she had the best tan I had ever seen.

There are times she has hurt for me and others times she just does not understand this white girl on the other end of her phone. I've been told the fact that I just don't care about color or ethnicity is a rare trait, specific to me...and we "fight" on that point over and over and over. I do believe what happened in DC this past weekend was evidence of the fact that I am not alone in this.

There were those who were furious that a white man organized the rally. Those same individuals have made a life's work out of telling us that white people will always hate black people...and the narrative is starting to crumble.

For the life of me, I will maintain that MLK gave us the gift of not caring what color you are. Honestly, if you are a mean spirited, low-life individual, I won't want anything to do with you no matter what color you are. And I wouldn't have voted for Obama if he was orange with yellow poka-dots. For the record, those who did vote for him, based on the color of his skin are the believers who have some explaining to do...and in this great nation, that is still between them and their God.

Today we celebrate our daughter Caity's 14th birthday. In a couple of our hours she will have her pool party. By 1:00pm EST, in that pool, there will be the children of white men, black men, Jews, Protestants and Catholics. I will be busy serving them cake and ice cream. To the glory of God, may I serve them, knowing that one generation after MLK's speech we will be sitting down at that table of brotherhood on my deck.

Edited to note: When Caity was little, when describing someone who was black, she always said, "brown"...all of my kids did. Color was seen, but certainly not race. I do believe John and I have done a fine job in this area. I get to stand proud of that.

HonEr...

Darling English Majors, Teachers, and Spelling Bee champs,

It was meant to be a play on words people! I do know how to google you know. For the record, no I don't remember when then is than but I do try to remember that it is time related...

"Definition of HONER
1: to sharpen or smooth with a whetstone
2: to make more acute, intense, or effective
— hon·er noun"

Must be the blasted poet in me!

For all my spell checkers, and I do mean this with love...

shut up.

Get your own darn blog and spell correctly!

Hmph! Bet you never read "The Eolian Harp" for the fun of it either.

With all my love,

Restoring Honor....

John mentioned that he wanted to go to Washington DC for the Restoring Honor Rally on 8/28....we both mentioned it over the last year. But honestly, how could we go? We are all about fiscal responsibility these days and in the budget, it was not.
Except that once we sat down and looked at it all, if we drove down the day of and home the day of, we could do it...and so we did.
I have a weeks worth of blogging I can do about that 24 hour trip to our nation's capital, but alas, most if it will have to wait...but be aware, I have a list!

Since we spent a great deal of time in the car, that is where the Lord was dealing with me. Sigh...
John all but drove for a living during all the years he was on the job. I trust him completely with our safety, except that I hate not being in charge. And being in the shot gun position means I am definitely not in charge. I finally decided to just keep my eyes shut, unless I was driving of course...'cause that would be stupid.

Eyes shut...yeah, that can be pretty scary too. Have you ever been on a roller coaster and kept your eyes shut? What happens? Yes, it feels like you are going to go over a cliff. Opening your eyes can be just as scary when you see that you are on a ride, specifically designed to make you feel like you are going over a cliff! Okay, that is what my being a passenger in a car feels like.

When my eyes are shut, I fall into vain imaginings. When they are open and I see break lights ahead of us...yeah, just like falling off a cliff.

The thing is that I thought I had destroyed that spirit of fear. But evidently, I only wounded it because it is back and it brought friends. I found myself asking God to deliver me over and over again...panic prayers. Come on, we've all done them.

Funny that when I was driving, no fear. For the last part of the journey home, John and I drove separate cars...yes, my eyes were open, duh. I was not bothered in the least by it all. Given that I had sound asleep children in my car, I pumped up the proverbial volume on my speakers, praised the Name above all names and got to talking with Him.

How is it that I trust Him when I all I have to do is follow John but not when John is charge of the entire situation? I've always said, I will follow John anywhere. And I mean that! But evidently only if I get to follow. Don't ask me to trust him with my safety when I have no other choice...Seriously Mair? Yeah, I guess so. Ugh.

The Lord, obviously does not want me afraid. As a matter of fact, of all the scriptures I could find on courage, they all say either, "Take courage" or "Be of good courage" so what the heck? Courage is mine for the taking...so? I don't believe it is a "ask and you shall receive" type of thing. I think it is a matter of taking. Something like sitting at a dinner table and asking someone to pass the salt. It's not a matter of waiting for someone to put the salt on the food for me but rather taking it and using it.

So where does that leave me? I suppose struggling with my own self-sufficiency. My soul screams, "I DO!" And when I am left with no other choice than to trust Joh... and in turn, trust God, with any given moment, my un-holy trinity of Me, Myself, and I get in the way. Truly, the sin of self-sufficiency leads to the sin of fear in me. Hmmmm.

I don't have all the answers to this yet. In my head, I know that God gave me the mantle of marriage to cover me. But in my heart, roars an angry feminist that could make Eve look like a light weight in the I-DO-IT-MYSELF department.

The theme of self has played heavily this week for me. How He loves me! To call me to do great things for Him even while He empties me out so I can be more full of His grace...Yeah, He has a lot to do in me. 'Cause I am full of somethin' and at times it don't smell like a rose!

****This would have been a great time to play the song, "Jesus take the wheel." But I kinda' hate that song with more then words can express. It would have been okay if they played it JUST at Christmas time ('cause it is a Christmas song!) but they played it over and over and over to the point of being a joke. Like what they did with "We are the World" or "The Christmas Shoes"...yeah, I think too much. I know.*****



PS I shared this with John and he admitted he was having the same trouble when I was driving. Hmmmm. Maybe this is less a Maryellen issue then it is a human condition issue. Stuff to ponder as I hit my pillow!

Football and Jesus...

I called John last night to ask him to meet me on the hill at football. I wanted a changing of the guards. I had just sat for an hour while I waited for Jack at the tutor's and could not imagine sitting for two hours more "on the hill" at football practice. John graciously said "of course" he would relieve me. Sigh of relief...I told him to feel free to go home and eat the dinner waiting for him and meet me when he was done.

Then my friend Joann showed up, coffee in hand and the demand that I let John know that I was staying because she had schlepped the far side of the field to sit with me....Still being a little afraid of her, I obeyed and John was thrilled to get the night at home. I have to admit, I felt better almost right away as we sipped our coffee and the wind reminded us that football is a Fall game. We sat and chatted and solved all the worlds problems and created some more. Just woman stuff that we so love to chat about.

Joann is from the other side of Yonkers from where I grew up. I tease her that she would have swirled me when we were teens. I have no doubt about it. Frankly, either does she!

And then we talked about Jesus. I so love to brag on Him. And I love it when a friend cares to hear it. She has never once changed the subject. Like it is for real friends, one conversation flows into the next...I was not expecting a South Yonkers girl in my life right now. Glad she has come along.

As we walked to the car with our football players, Jack got just far enough ahead of us to jump out of the darkness with a "BOO!" and scare poor Joann...not something I would recommend doing by the way.

"JACK!" She yelled. "Don't you know not to scare two Yonkers girls like that! Your lucky we didn't rip your eye balls out with our camp chairs!"

Yup, she's a keeper.

On the way home, Jack was talking about THE GAME. How he loves to play. He has all but grown up playing football.

"I am playing my hardest but it's like Coach doesn't notice how hard I'm playing."

Have you ever had one of those moments when you say something to one of your kids that kicks your own spirit in the teeth? Yeah, me too.

"Jack, are you playing your hardest to be noticed by the coach or are you playing your hardest for the good of the team and to the Glory of God?"

Short silence followed. Then:

"I want the coach to see how hard I am working out there so he will use me more. If I am playing great, then it will benefit the whole team. Right?"

"And do you play as your gift to Him? I mean all of our gifts are as 'filthy rags' to Him. There is nothing we can do to impress Him...but He knows our hearts and He is your Abba. He knows when you are giving Him a gift. When you do, He wants to bless you back. Do you see the difference?"

"I guess. Can I have a snack when we get home?"

Not sure if that conversation was for Jack's edification or mine.

Are all my days and the seemingly endless and somewhat insignificant tasks done unto the Glory of God? Does it matter if I work to the glory of His name as a C.S. Lewis or as a nameless housewife in Poughkeepsie? Does it matter if I glorify the name of the Lord by doing dishes or at a job or in the car or in the White House?

As I tucked Jack in last night I reminded him that he should only care about One opinion.

"Jack, you play football to an audience of One. Just remember that always. Give every gift He has given to you, back to Him and just watch what He can with it. Night. Love you. XOXOX"

As I walked away from Sir Jack's room, I stopped in the hall and asked God to use that gift of conviction on my heart in anyway He chooses to. I can't wait to see what He has planned.

Bloggin issues...

Not sure if it is just me or others are having Blogger issues, but I can't get my posts to save or sometimes come up. I can work on it later, but just wanted to check in. xoxoxo (This is more a Tweet then a post! ;)