Notifying Next of Kin

There are several reasons why we didn't bring Sophie with us to Florida. At 14, she didn't need the stress and confusion of living in an empty house for an indefinite period of time. She loved packing up and going to stay with MeeMaw and PapPaw English, but we didn't have childcare arrangements here. The lovely pond behind our new house held the potential for alligators, and...I don't even want to go there. Drew said we didn't have a closet big enough for her wardrobe. The girl loved to dress up, what can I say?

My mother recently lost her dog to cancer, and my sister's 16 year old Lhaso wasn't doing so well, so they offered to keep her in Lubbock at one house or the other. She often made the trip to west Texas and was lovingly known as The Uppity Cousin from Dallas. We knew she would be loved and dressed appropriately.

Linda called last Monday in tears. Sophie had been up all night sick to her stomach. When Linda went home to check on her at noon, she knew something was horribly wrong. She took her to the vet who diagnosed kidney failure. There were a couple of options of keeping her alive on an IV for a few weeks, but Linda made the right and difficult decision not to prolong her pain.

I felt so bad for Linda. Her dog, Sadie Mae had to be put to sleep just 6 weeks earlier. Sophie had only been sick a couple of days in her little Shih Tzu life, and one of those was because she OD'd on a leftover piece of pound cake. I called Drew and the boys and they were surprised and sad as I was. But, also grateful.

She was the family pet you hope for. Low maintenance, didn't shed, and had a great sense of fashion. Whenever we took her with us in the car, she hopped on her satin pillowcase and slept the whole way.

Sophie had her own Swankie Blankie with her name embroidered on it, an assortment of hair bows and sweaters, an Old Navy T-shirt, an Easter dress, a Sunday dress, a cheer leading outfit, an angel costume, a witch's hat and even a red boa that she wore to Karen H.'s 30th birthday party. Her recent additions included a little black taffeta number with spaghetti straps that she only pulled out for special occasions, (black was her signature color)and a cheetah print dress with hot pink trim.

She was patient with the little friends that came to our house. She taught us to be gentle and responsible. We surprised the boys with her Easter weekend 1993. They lifted the basket lid and out she hopped. (She looked more like a guinea pig than a puppy!) I kept her hair long until I was paying more to have hers done than mine.

Anyway, if you were in our home, you probably had Sophie in your lap, and we just wanted you to know. Linda said she held her while they administered the drugs, until she died.

"What was she wearing?" I asked.

"Her pink sweater."

"Oh, good. That was her favorite."

Sophie went out in style!

Have You Seen My Keys?

That's one of those questions I ask on a regular basis. I'm sure if I had a designated spot in the house for them, I would never be late again. And if I could find the perfect purse, it would also have a convenient key spot, which would eliminate the rest of the problems of my life.

After church Wednesday night, a lady misplaced her keys. She finally had to call a relative to come, and they found the keys in the trunk of her car.

Been there.
Done that.

And done that.

While we were waiting, the stories of lost keys were shared. My tale has become legendary in our family.

Lubbock, TX 1983 B.C. (Before Cellphones)

I'm not sure why I had to drive downtown to the courthouse, but I remember it involved standing in a long line with two year old Matt and two month old baby Scott. It wasn't until I was trying to put the stroller back in the trunk that I realized I couldn't find my keys.

They were not in the diaper bag, my purse, or the ignition. They were not on the pavement, in the grass or under the car. They were not at the counter or on the floor or...anywhere, as far as I could see. I decided I had laid them in the trunk when I got the stroller out and slammed it shut.

Both boys were hungry and fussy, and all 3 of us were ready for a nap. I hated to admit defeat, but I had to call Drew at work. He was in the middle of a very important meeting and it was obvious that he was frustrated. In his defense, it was not the first time he had to come and get me. I'm not sure why there was not a key in the magnetic holder under the bumper. I probably used it and forgot to put it back, but for my sake I'll say it was his fault.

"Can you bring me your key?" I asked politely.

"Not right now. I'm in the middle of a meeting." he said not very politely.

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" I asked sweetly.

"Where's the key I put under the bumper?" he asked not so sweetly.

Suffice it to say this went on for way too long until finally, I played the 'mother of your starving children' card and he said, "I'm on my way."

On our adventure Matt had spotted a blind gentleman at a candy counter just inside the door. I decided to get us a snack while we waited.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"I'll take some M&M's, please. By chance, have you seen a set of keys," I asked the blind man. I was just about to apologize for asking him if he had seen my keys, when he held them up and said, "You mean these? Someone found them in the grass."

I was simultaneously filled with delight and horror. Yea for the keys, but oh no, Drew's about to waste a trip. I ran to the pay phone to call off the rescue, but the secretary said Drew had left.

He was already mad. I didn't think it would exactly thrill him to have left his meeting and driven across town only to find that the trip had been inconvenient and unnecessary. So, I made an executive decision...

After going through the different scenarios and possible outcomes, I determined that it was in the best interest of our marriage for him to be celebrated as the hero he was. I went to the car, opened the trunk, threw the keys in and slammed it shut.

Oh, yes I did!

Then I prayed.

When Drew arrived, I lavished praise and thanksgiving upon him.
"You are my hero! Give dad a big hug, Matt! Thank you for coming to the rescue!"

I apologized profusely.
"I am so, so very sorry for messing up your presentation."
"I just said it was a family emergency." His tone was softening as he opened the trunk and handed me keys. "You have got to be more careful..."
"Truer words were never spoken!" I exclaimed.

As we drove away, I turned to his offspring in the back seat, "You must never speak of this to anyone...EVER."

And I didn't, until the summer all four of us were on our way to Austin and stopped at a Dairy Queen in...

Brownwood, TX StarDate 1987

We went in for a break, and came out to find that Drew...DREW... had left the keys in the ignition for the first time in his existence. We happened to be parked next to a DPS officer who popped the lock within seconds, at no charge and we were on our way.

You would think we would be on our way rejoicing, but Drew couldn't forgive himself. "I can't believe I did that!" "What if that officer hadn't been right there?" That was totally irresponsible of me!" "Where is the key that is supposed to be in the magnetic holder?"

Since I could tell this was about to take a nasty turn in my direction, I decided it was time to lighten things up a bit. "I have the funniest thing to tell you, and ha...I mean, you are just going to laugh out loud when I tell you this very funny story. Remember the time I locked my keys in the trunk of my car?"

"In Sherman?"

"No, not that time."

"At the retreat?"

"No. not...okay, do you remember bringing keys to the courthouse when the boys were babies?..." and I began to retell the story. It was all coming back to him until I got to the part where I found the keys at the candy counter. His puzzled expression changed to horror as I said, "and so I, ha...here's the funny part...put the keys in the trunk and slammed it shut! Can you believe how funny that is? Now? Several years later?"

I turned to the back seat for support and saw both boys with their little jaws dropped and their eyes bugged out. Drew looked at me like I was some crazy woman and said, "You did what?!"

As I told this story to the group in the church parking lot, I noticed something interesting. The women figured out what I was going to do and high-fived me when I got to the part where I slammed the trunk shut. The men had that oh-so familiar look that I saw on Drew's face.

Like I'm some kind of crazy woman! ha! Can you believe that?

Mike Cope Sings the Classics

I still love this! Hopefully they'll do "Once There Were Three Wandering Jews" in the sequel...

GG

My mother came to visit last week. She flew by her 82 year old self from Lubbock, Texas at 10:00 a.m., stopped in Dallas, changed planes in Houston, and arrived in Tampa at 8:30 p.m. I am so proud of her for being brave!

As I drove away from the airport yesterday, I called my sister Linda to tell her GG was on her way home. We were talking about how blessed we were to have her as our mother and role model. Positive. Gracious. Remarkable. And as my new friend Melissa said after meeting her Sunday, "Your mother is just so darn cute!"

That, too.

She was the perfect guest. The closest she came to a negative comment was when we took her to the beautiful Don Cesar resort for dinner. It is a favorite place to take guests for a light meal on the beach. There is usually a wedding or two while we are enjoying our dinner and watching the sunset. I was reading her some menu choices when she saw the prices.

"Does that say $10.95 for a turkey sandwich?!"

"It's okay, GG. This is our treat." (What I didn't tell her was that she was looking at the wrong line item, and the sandwich was actually $12.95.)

She bragged on every little thing in and around our house.

She struck up meaningful conversations with strangers everywhere we went. This photo was taken at Vinoy Park by the bay. Within minutes, she was counseling this lady in pink who was unhappy in her nursing home, and had asked a man walking his dog is she could hold it!

She insisted that I not change one thing in my schedule just because she was here. (what schedule?)

I found her outside by the pool. "GG, do you want to go for a swim?"
"Sure! I brought my Speedo!"

We ventured to the Beall's outlet. "Don't even show me where the shoes are. I don't need any more!" She bought 2 pairs.

She encouraged me to buy a new purse at Dillard's...I celebrate that!

Her sandals came flying off the minute her feet hit the beach.

After church Sunday morning she said, "Well, on a scale of 1-10, I give your preacher a 10! Or 12!"

She just called while I was writing this to thank me for the perfect visit, and tell me about the people she met on the plane. It gave me a chance to tell her about one of the sweetest compliments. Last night at Ladies bible class, someone said the older they got, the less they thought they knew about God. The teacher, Sandy said, "Sometimes we can't see it in ourselves, but as we mature in Christ, we become more like Him. Like GG! How many of you met Carolyn's mother Sunday morning?" (Hands went up all around the room. She must have been working the crowd while I wasn't watching...) "When I met her mother, I said, 'I feel like I know you from somewhere'. Later I realized that it wasn't that we had actually met, but she just had that sweet, beautiful expression that comes from someone who has walked with the Lord her whole life."

My dad was the outgoing, social one. She willingly let him have the spotlight for over 50 years of marriage. We weren't sure what to expect after he died in 1999. It shouldn't have surprised us to see her find her own place, her own voice in the world. She did it with grace and dignity and a positive outlook on life that amazes those of us who love her.

That's our GG! You Go, Girl!

I'm That Grandmother!

I would like for it to go on record that I have shown tremendous restraint since I found out that Matt & Kyla were having a baby. I didn't buy anything until I found out if we were having a boy or a girl. Well, except for the Willow Tree figurine for Kyla. You know, the one where she is pregnant, but that was also to add to her collection. And that was all.

oh, and a clock for the nursery. And we gave Matt a Jeep brand baby pouch/carrier for Father's Day...okay, so I bought a few things, but just trust me when I say, I didn't get everything I thought about getting.

But I especially held off buying any generic clothes. I did find a cute little white onesie at Target that said something fun on the front in black print, but that was to frame, not to wear, so that didn't count.

Fast fwd to the day Matt called and asked what I was doing, and in fact I was at Sport's Authority getting Drew a no-sweat golf shirt. He said, "Well, while you're there, you might pick up a baseball mitt for your grandson!" A boy! Mark! Perfect! Some of my favorite people started out as baby boys!

Matt's birthday was in September, so we gave him Father/Son Tampa Bay Rays baseball t-shirts. Mark's was on sale for $3 at Marshall's. I don't think that qualifies as buying baby clothes, do you?

Last week, I was in Macy's to return some dishes. On the way to the down escalator, I walked by the baby department. They were having a sale, so I browsed the racks. "Cute, cute, cute, too girly, cute, white?!, oh! how cute, probably will get a lot of those at the shower, cute, cute."

I started to leave with my great restraint when a little old(er) grandmother tapped me on the arm and said, "Which one of these should I buy?" And there she was, holding cute, cute, and the perfect outfit for Mark! I hadn't seen that one. I quickly scanned the rack again to see if I had missed it, and it was obvious that she had the only one left.

You can imagine my moral dilemma.

"Well," I began nervously, "they're all cute. When is the baby due?"

"October." she said.

"These two would probably be more practical for winter weather," I said as I steered her away from Mark's perfect outfit.

"We don't get much winter here," she said. "This one's cute, too," she had the nerve to say while she was holding Mark's perfect outfit.

"Yes," I said as indifferently as possible. "But you know young parents these days. Go, go go! They'll probably be going north for the winter and won't you be the hero for giving them one of these other two adorable rompers!"

"Put it back! OH, PULEEZE PUT MARK'S PERFECT OUTFIT BACK ON THE THE RACK!", I screamed silently. I found myself reaching to take it out of her little old wrinkled hand.

"I guess I'll get this one," she said, referring to one of the other cute ones.

"Good choice!" I said. She turned and walked over to get her daughter's approval. When she did, I snatched Mark's perfect outfit off of the rack and ran as fast as I could to the nearest checkout, only to encounter the slowest checkout girl on the planet. Yeah, yeah, brand new terminals, whatever, just hurry up! NO! I don't want to donate any money to any diseases! I must have said that last part out loud, because she looked at me like I was evil, so I said okay.

I felt just a little bit guilty about the whole incident, so I called Matt to confess. "Am I going to be that grandmother?" I asked?

Matt was still laughing, "Man, I sure hope so!"

p.s. Since I bought Mark's perfect outfit using part of the credit I had from returning the dishes, it's not really even like I used money to buy it. So technically, I still haven't bought him any clothes. Pretty good restraint, don't you think?!

TARGETed

We had only been here a week when I found a better Target. The one near us was under renovation and it messed up my shopping aura. I had ordered some dark brown leather furniture, and wanted to look for some pillows to brighten it up. (as if I needed an excuse to go to Target)

With my one little pillow in the basket, I browsed the rest of the store. Somewhere between the toy and electronics departments, I was accosted by two boys asking for money.

"Can I have a dollar?"

"Excuse me?" There went my shopping aura.

The Accomplice explained, "He needs a dollar."

As a matter of fact, I had just returned something and had a wad of dollars, but I was longing for conversation, so I asked, "Why do you need a dollar?"

"Because I wanna buy this toy and I need another dollar."

"Where's your mother?"

"She dropped us off. But my uncle gave me $20 for my birthday..."

The Accomplice, "Show her the money! He's got a 20 dollar bill!"

"...and I found this cool car for $19.99..."

The Accomplice, "I'll go get the car!"

"...except when I went to pay for it the total was $21.34 with tax. The guy in electronics said he would forget about the 34 cents if I could find another dollar."

I looked at those 2 faces. I looked at the guy in electronics. I looked at the cool lime green remote control car. I looked into my soul and thought, 'What would Jesus do'? That didn't work so well, since Jesus wouldn't be in Target buying decorative pillows.

I wanted to help the boys. They could do worse things with $20 than to buy something that would keep them busy for a few hot summer days, but I also didn't want to encourage them to hit up old ladies for money so I thought, 'What would Larry James do'?

Larry would let them earn the money.

I said, "I won't give you a dollar, but I'll give you an opportunity to earn a dollar if you're willing to work for it." They jumped and smiled and vowed they would do whatever I asked.

"Well...(I looked in my basket),I'm about to buy something really heavy, and I'll probably need 2 strong boys to help me get it in my shopping cart."

They high-fived each other and flexed their muscles. Now if I could just think of something really heavy to buy. I turned to go to the garden department. The item we found was on the top shelf. The Accomplice offered to get Mr. Electronics to get it down for us. Birthday Boy waited with me.

I checked out the TOM-TOM GPS on the end cap. "I need one of these for my car."

Birthday Boy chimed in, "Yeah, so does my uncle. He dudn't know how to get anywhere in Florida. He's from TEXAS!" I let it slide.

Soon The Accomplice returned with his report. "The guy in electronics said, 'Tell your mom I'll be right there.' He thinks you're our MOM!"

"Oh, my. I'm much older than your mom."

"Nuh-UH!" said The Accomplice. "My mom's 27!"

And suddenly it occurred to me. It really wouldn't be fair to just give the birthday boy a dollar when that sweet young friend of his was being so helpful..."How old are you?" I asked.

"I'm 10." (do the math; he's a child of a child)

Birthday Boy, "My mom's WAY older than his mom and you. She's 52!"

"I'm 52." I said.

"NO WAY!" they shouted. And I for one believe they were sincerely shocked, and were not just trying to get an extra dollar out of me. "You look more like HIS mom than MY mom!"

"Well, I have used Mary Kay products since my twen..." oops, wrong story.

I asked Birthday Boy, "How old are you?"

"I'm 12." The Accomplice confirmed that it was indeed the truth. I did that math, too, and figured if I had given birth to that kid when I was 40, I would look years beyond my years, as well.

I looked at my watch and realized that I needed to leave and pick up Drew, so I said, "Okay, look. You have proven to me that if I did have something heavy, you would have helped me get it to the cart, but I've gotta go. So, here's a dollar for each of you. Happy Birthday!"

Could life get any better? They ran to the electronics department and I went to the express lane. As the clerk was ringing up my pillow, I saw The Accomplice run for the gourmet cookie counter.

"Ma'am?"

"I'm sorry. How much do I owe you?"

"The pillow was $19.99 and with tax it will be..."

"I know," I nodded as my aura returned. "$21.34".

Why Men Should Not Be Allowed to Write Advice Columns:

Thanks for sharing this, Angie. And that reminds me...I need to do laundry.

Happy birthday, Matt!

Dear Walter:

I hope you can help me here. The other day I set off for work
leaving my husband in the house watching the TV as usual. I hadn't gone more
than a few hundred yards down the road when my engine conked out and
the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband's help.

When I got home I couldn't believe my eyes. He was parading in front
of the wardrobe mirror dressed in my underwear and high-heel shoes, and
he was wearing my make up.

I am 32, my husband is 34 and we have been married for twelve
years. When I confronted him, he tried to make out that he had dressed in my
lingerie because he couldn't find his own underwear. But when I
asked him about the make-up, he broke down and admitted that he'd been
wearing my clothes for six months.

I told him to stop or I would leave him.

He was let go from his job six months ago and he says he has been
feeling depressed and worthless. I love him very much,
but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become increasingly
distant. I don't feel I can get through to him anymore.

Can you please help?


Sheila





Dear Sheila:

A car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused by a
variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there is
no debris in the fuel line. If it is clear, check the jubilee clips
holding the vacuum pipes onto the inlet manifold. If none of these
approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself
is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the carburetor float
chamber.

I hope this helps.


Walter

Say what?

The Tower of Babel was the perfect Bible lesson for the day. I was subbing for the 3rd grade class at GCChristian Schools, which is associated with the church we're attending. We began the day with the pledge, a prayer and turning to Genesis 11:1-9. "Now the whole world had one language and a common dialect..."

"What's a dialect?" I asked. No response. "People from England speak English, but they sound like a Mary Poppins movie. They have a different dialect." I thought that was a brilliant comparison. The children politely nodded and we finished the story.

The next assignment was Language Arts. There was a list of words that they were to rhyme. The first one was 'crown'. So I asked, "Who can think of a word that rhymes with crown?" I could tell they were thinking, but decided they were just shy, so I asked Pamela.

She shook her head. "I can't think of a word that rhymes with 'crayon'.

"Oh, honey, not 'crayon',the word is 'crou-un', like a king wears on his
hey-yud."

"You mean, 'crown'!"
(aren't we saying the same thing here?)

Heads and hands popped up. "Oh! 'crown'!"
"I know!" "frown!" "town!" "down!"

It was a great object lesson for the Tower of Babel. I explained that I was from Texas and that people in Florida talked wrong.

"You're from Texas?!" Nicholas was impressed. "Have you ever been in a big tornado?"

"Yes, I have."

"Cool! What was it's name?"

(these poor hurricane babies)

"Well, I guess we have so many that there isn't time to name them all."

When we first moved here, I was curious to listen for the Florida accent. Instead, I heard people from Boston, New York, and England. Yesterday, a deliveryman noticed my Texas license plate. (still haven't changed it) "You heah from Texas? I'm from New Yoak. Been heah three yeahs. My brothah moved to Texas. He didden like it. Took a beatin on his house and moved back heah to Flahradah. Took him twenty-foah houahs in his cah."

I gave him a tip and a bottle of water.

"Good luck in your new house. Hey, thanks for the watah."

"You're welcome." I smiled and waved and shut the door.

"And good luck finding your R's!"

Spoiler Alert! Colonoscopy Results:

How sweet of you to care.

A new friend from church had a colonoscopy Friday, so I shared this story with her.

Our daughter-in-law, Kyla is a marketing specialist for Caris Diagnostics. They specialize in testing pathology results for colonoscopies. She sent out an e-mail to her parents, Drew and me who were all arriving at the big 5-0 mark. She had seen the benefits of early detection and the devastation of getting bad results too late, and for the sake of our kids and future grand kids, we needed to get screened.

About that time, my friend Cindy from our neighborhood bible study asked us to pray for her husband because a mass was found on his colon. This man was our age and the picture of health. Drew and I knew he was in good shape because we waved to both of them every morning as they did their power walk, while we were sitting on our porch having coffee and sweet rolls. That got my attention. Cindy and I made appointments back to back (so to speak) a few weeks after his surgery.

When I told Kyla, she asked if she could go with me. "I've been to several procedures, but I'd like to see how the patient is treated from the time they make the first appointment...what kind of paperwork you have to fill out, how thoroughly they answer questions, what information you are given, things like that." She reassured me that I would not be aware of anything that was going on during the scope. "The doctor never really looks at the patient, he's watching the video monitor and the clock." I asked her if she wanted to come in with me, and we decided to see what this doctor had to say about it.

At the initial consultation she looked over the paperwork and made notes of what all I had to fill out. When we went in to meet the doctor, she introduced herself and explained why she was with me. He was an A&M graduate, and as it so happened, Kyla spoke fluent Aggie, so he gave the okay for her to be present. Too bad I didn't get him to give her a copy of the RX he gave me, because to really get the full benefit of the experience, she needed to drink the gallon of yuk like I did.

In the meantime, my sister sent me a temporary rhinestone tattoo to wear...you know where! Only, I wasn't sure which side I would be on, so I put it in my purse and decided to ask the nurse when I got there. My name was called and Kyla and I went back. I introduced her to Kyla and explained that she would be accompanying me. The nurse looked at me with the same expression that you probably had when you first realized what we were doing...together! "I'm sorry, ma'am, but we do not allow family members to go back." Not wanting to make a scene, Kyla said, "That's okay," and went back to the waiting area.

Not minding the making of a scene, I said, "But we okay'd it with the doctor."

"It's just not a good idea to have family members present (you crazy woman!)."

"Is it 'just not a good idea', or is it illegal? (the drugs are starting to kick in) Because it's not that I'm a pathetic wimp, I just thought it would be a bonding experience for us, and pretty much, I'm not going back there without her." They are about to wheel me down the hall.

"You'll have to sign a form."

"I'll sign it when she's here." So they call Kyla and she came running down the hall. I was flat on the gurney with a clipboard in the air, and Kyla said, "What are you signing?"

"It says you can go in with me if I can go into the delivery room with you."

Just before I went under, the anesthesiologist asked me if I had any questions.

"Where's my tattoo?"

"Excuse me?"

"My sister sent me a rhinestone tattoo to wear for you and I left it in my purse."

He looked at Kyla and looked back at me, while taking his index finger and making a circular motion next to his ear. "Would you like for me to go get your "tattoo"?

That's the last thing I remember.

I awoke with Kyla sitting next to the bed in the recovery ward. "If it makes you feel any better, you didn't have any gas."

"Thanks for saying that, even if it isn't true."

"No, seriously, it was really quiet out here. Most recovery rooms are a little..."

Just then a fun little nurse came in, "Did you really bring a tattoo?! That is so cute! We should give those out!"

I liked her spirit. "Here, take it. Surprise the next patient."

Our other daughter-in-law, Terran is a radiographer. Bless her heart, so far the only fun bonding activity we've been able to do together is shop. She'll have to wait five whole years for my next colonoscopy.

I hope.

p.s.Things were fine, by the way. I had my procedure last December. I've just always wanted to have a reason to say, 'Spoiler Alert'.

Same Song...

I wish I could remember the name of the song we sang that first Sunday here. Maybe it's just as well that I don't, because it represents all of them in a way.

Drew had visited the NW church in St. Petersburg a few times before I arrived. This was the first time we had attended together. The songs were all familiar CofC, but during one song, I remember thinking, ..."they're not doing it right". And I didn't quite care for the difference. Then we got to the chorus and they "didn't do it right" again...only this time, I liked it better than the way I had learned it.

It occurred to me that this was a metaphor for the church. We're singing the same song, with the same message, same purpose. One has a different arrangement, but it doesn't make it right or wrong...just different.

We have considered trying other Christian fellowships. Not because we don't like the NW church, but because we feel like it would be a unique time to experience something different. We don't know how long we'll be here...5 years, maybe. What could we learn and how could we grow by being open to new things? What would it be like to join a church where women can lead prayers or communion thoughts during an instrumental worship service without all the tension? How would it feel to serve with a group of Christians where so many traditions are unfamiliar? What if the preacher didn't go to ACU or Harding and we weren't able to put him in the right box? Amberly (in the Philippines) is probably reading this and saying, "I'll tell you what it's like!"

It's not like we're in another country, having to learn another language and culture. Deep in my heart I know that the church is so much bigger than anything I can imagine. But when it comes right down to stepping away from my church background, I'm not as bold as I thought I would be. There is something comfortable and familiar even about some things that I don't especially care for. Is that healthy?

Our neighbors across the street invited us to go to church with them. At one time, in another state they had 3 teenagers living at home. There was not a program for the young people at their Methodist church, but there was a great one at the local church of Christ. For about 5 or 6 years, they attended that church with their kids. When the last one graduated, they went back to the Methodist church. I love that about their story. Drew and I accepted their invitation.

The handout was packed with opportunities to serve and be served. It was such a sweet service. The acoustical guitar was unobtrusive, the drama was very well done, and the sermon (the minister took off his robe for our contemporary service)was like a massage for my soul.

Drew and I had time to debrief at lunch. I was ready to sign up until he reminded me that they baptized infants, we didn't have communion...oh yeah, that. Not that those were total deal breakers. We could have communion every day if we wanted to. Do you have to sign something saying you'll be very, very Methodist? I don't think I like being called a Methodist anyway. Can we just get a social membership?

The people at NW have gone out of their way to invite us to lunch, their bible classes, their LIFE groups. Sweet, sweet people. And very ethnically and economically diverse. We love that. And we'll probably place our membership there. Still a part of me wonders if we're missing out on an opportunity to see another side of grace and fellowship that would change us forever.

Same song...different arrangement.

A Few of My Not So Favorite Things

I am keeping a written list of things I like about Florida. I started it in the car as we were leaving Texas. It's in the back of the most helpful book I have read in a long time, After the Boxes Are Unpacked...Moving in and Moving On by Susan Miller. It's from Focus on the Family. A friend from my neighborhood Bible study gave it to me the day the movers came.

And, as much as I try not to, I keep a mental list of things I don't care for. I won't bore you with the negatives, except for this one and it has been driving me nuts since I first saw the sign back in April:

The Fifth/Third Bank

Can you believe it? What kind of name is that? (besides not a very good one) It became one of the talking points on my visitors tour. "To your right is the Home Shopping Network Outlet. On Tuesdays I get an extra 10% off because I'm over 50. I am so! Oh, go on! Well, I have been using Mary Kay products since my twenties and I think the extra fat in my face takes care of all those nasty wrinkles, but thank you for the compliment. On your left is my new favorite store, Home Goods. It is conveniently located on my Evacuation route. In case of a hurricane, I move from the china department to the linens. And straight ahead is the dumbest name for a bank EVER!" Then I wait for the shock and awe to descend upon the other passengers. It always does.

I have wanted to call. I have wanted to write. I have wanted to pull in and ask them what they were thinking when they chose that name for a bank? So, today I did. Call, that is. I got out the phone book and tried the first two listings. Disconnected. Probably going under because they have a stupid name...So, I looked for the one nearest us and said, "I'd like to speak to someone about opening an account." The following is a true story.

"Yes, ma'am. I can help you with that. What kind of account would you like to open?"

"Actually, I'm checking on the name of your bank."

"Did you say checking? What would be the starting balance?"

"$1,000. But first, would you please explain the name of your bank?"

"Certainly. We are originally out of Cincinnati, and now we are all over the Florida area. Did you also want a savings account?"

"Sure, whatever. I just recently moved to Florida, and when I saw your sign I was confused about the name. What does it mean?"

She turned to the teller next to her and said, "She wants me to explain the name of the bank. ahem, Well, there was a merger of 2 banks, and now we are the Fifth Third Bank."

"Which two banks?" (I have way too much time on my hands)

"She wants to know which 2 banks...The Third National, and what was the other one? The Fifth National Bank. We also have great rates for our money market accounts."

"So you are a regular bank?"

"Yes, we are."

By now she was afraid I was going to ask if she had Prince Albert in a can, so I politely ended with, "Do you think I would trust our hard earned money with a bank that has goobers running their marketing department?!" Well, that's what I was thinking, but what actually came out of my mouth was, "I'll check with my husband. Thank you."

I bet she went straight to the suggestion box and wrote down my comments! And I bet at the next board meeting, they'll say, "You know, that lady is right. It is a dumb name and we should change it right now." Then I bet they'll trace my name and send me a bonus!

I can't wait to see the new name up in lights:

"The Third/Fifth Bank"

Now, who should I call about redesigning the Florida state flag?

me & snooty

In July, our older son Matt came to spend a few days with us while his wife Kyla went on a girls trip with her mom and sister. We missed having Kyla, but had fun trying some new things in the area.

On the evening of the 4th, we picked Matt up from the airport and ate dinner at the Vinoy Resort. We timed it so we were able to go out and watch the fireworks display shot from the St. Petersburg pier in Tampa Bay. One day he and Drew went to Nasa. The missile launch they went to watch was postponed, but they rode in a simulator and saw an alligator on the tarmac, so the day was not a total loss.

We also found time to do sunset on the beach, Ft. DeSoto Park, and the highlight for both boys, Drew's office. (not because it is so well decorated, but because they have to have a pass to get in and he can't tell us what he does.) Drew is about to relocate to less than a mile from our house, so he hasn't put up anything on the walls. At that time, we will fly in our personal decorator Joan Swim to add a few berry garlands and bows to liven up the place.

Back to me & Snooty. Snooty is the poster child around here for manatees. He's the oldest living sea cow on record. And he's about the size of a Volkswagon. At 6:30 one morning, we got up and drove an hour and a half to Crystal River and had Captain John take us out in his pontoon boat to swim with the Snooty and his pals. It was the bravest thing I have ever done. Actually, putting on a wetsuit was the bravest thing, but getting in the river was pretty wild, too. (me & Snooty look about the same in our wetsuits.)

We had to watch a ten minute video on how to behave around them, where we could touch them and where we could not (don't tickle them under their arms, that's where they nurse their babies, don't splash and scream). We bought an underwater camera and headed out. Captain John motored over to an area and saw a mother and her baby, floating along the bottom, eating water grass. He turned off the engine and a creepy silence came over us as we leaned over the edge of the boat and I pretended to see what he was talking about.

Drew and Matt went in first, without making a sound or a splash. Then I carefully descended the ladder. I was very still and quiet until my feet actually touched the freezing water and there's not one of you girls who could have remained calm and quiet while ice water ran up your wetsuit and got in all your business! Matt thought it was hilarious. Captain John was not amused.

For the record, let me just say that 'Crystal' River implies clarity. The Emerald River would have been more descriptive. I put on my mask and all I could see was green and murky water. Matt pointed to my snorkle tube thing. That's the video I should have watched. I never really got the hang of it. Captain John suggested that we swim under this roped area to see a spring. What he didn't tell me until I was already there, was that at the bottom of it were several big mouth catfish. I have seen that episode on the fishing channel (I'm too lazy to fish!) and they are ugly and scarey, so when I turned to hurry back under the rope, I lost my snorkle. Captain John was not amused.

There was an extra snorkle on the boat that he let me borrow. But here's the deal. The river was just about 4-5 feet deep. I realized that when I put my head under water to float, my bottom popped up out of the water, and people had cameras! So, I chose to be a lady and tip-toe around the river looking for Snooty. That's when Matt tried to get my attention. "MOM!" he screamed/whispered, as he pointed to his snorkle. I waved and smiled. "No, thank you. This works better for me." "MOM!" again with the pointing. Again, I shook my head 'no'. "MOM! YOU'RE STEPPING ON THE MANATEES!" I screamed. I flailed. I splashed. But I swear I did not touch her armpits! Captain John was not amused.

All in all, we saw about 5 of them. It was a slow day, apparently. But if we come back in November the river will have about 400-500 of them. I said, "Wow! Then I could just tip-toe from one to the other without touching the bottom of the river!"

Captain John was not amused.

TIA

tia - Spanish for 'aunt'
TIA's - Tex-Mex restaurant that is out of business in Richardson, Plano and Tampa.
TIA - Tampa International Airport

I celebrate the Tampa airport!

From our house, it's just a 20-30 minute drive over the bay. There are 2 lanes in; red for Southwest and blue for American. There is a cell phone waiting lot that looks like a drive-in movie. You can pull into a space and watch the big 'score board' that tells the status of all incoming flights, and it has free WIFI. There I go again, talking all technical. You can also go to the covered short term parking area (first hour free, thank you very much) where the elevator will take you to the terminal. The top floor of the parking garage is an observation deck with a lovely view of Tampa Bay.

Once inside the terminal, there is a mini-mall, complete with several bistro tables, a food court and a nice lounge area so you can comfortably wait for your guests to arrive. You have to show your boarding pass to the security guard to get on the tram that transports you to your gate, but even over there you can chill at Chili's or grab a cup of Starbucks while you wait to board your plane.

Not only is it user friendly, but this weekend it brought Scott & Terran to us for a long (but not long enough) weekend. Friday, we went to the sponge docks in Tarpon Springs and ate at a Greek restaurant on the water. We ended the evening with sunset pics on the beach and a light meal at the Don Caesar. There are at least 2-3 weddings there on the weekends. The groomsmen are always grateful to be wearing white shirts and khaki pants instead of tuxedos.

Saturday we went to downtown St.Pete and Terran and I got to shop at White/Black. She looked adorable in everything she tried on, so I just made a photo op out of each outfit. We went to Sarasota and toured the John Ringling estate, St. Armand's Circle and sunset on Anna Maria island. I love that people get so excited about sunsets on the beach. You can see them getting out of their cars with cameras (or not), and sitting in silent reverence as God shows off a little.

We are still giddy over the news that Matt & Kyla are expecting a boy. Scott & Terran have 2 nieces from her sister that they adore. Scott lowered his voice and said, "I'm going to be a male uncle!" And since some of our favorite people started out as baby boys (!) we are thrilled!

This also gives me a chance to tell Terran "Happy Birthday!" Today she is 24. When we prayed for God to bring a Christian mate to each of our sons, we had no idea that He would do far more than we could ask or imagine. Terran is the perfect audience for Scott. She laughs, she listens, she supports him and loves him in countless ways. She is gracious and giving and we love her for being who she is, not just for what she brings to Scott's world. We are better people because we know her and we are honored to have her in our family. In about 4 months, she'll add to her McBryde titles 'aunt Terran'.

She's going to be a tia!

"They Took My Texas Driver's License Away!"

Poor Drew. Those were his first words after receiving his Florida license. "I feel like I've had my passport revoked and I can't go back to Texas." He still chokes up when he talks about it. I should have prepared him better.

It wasn't all bad. Because I called ahead and made an appointment, we walked right up to the window for service. It's a lovely facility, and except for the sign in between the front of my car and the pond beyond the parking lot that said, "Please Do Not Feed or Molest the Alligators", it was a positive experience.

Seriously. Who is going to molest an alligator? Maybe that explains why everyone was so calm in the DMV office. You give Imogene any lip, and she has the guards toss you into the pond. Just don't molest the gators while you're screaming to get out.

One of the unique things about Florida license plates is that there are so many choices. I have been studying them ahead of time so I won't be rushed into a decision under pressure. Drew is going to get the standard orange blossoms. (BORING!) I am torn between "Save the Sea Turtles" and "Hospice Care". The Hospice plate has a monarch butterfly, which I love of course, and the cause is close to my heart. But I have to say, the sea turtle would look great against my black car. I'm not sure how long I have to decide. Right now, I'm just not ready to make a committment.

What cause would you have on your license plate?

Florida Specialty License Plates Index
ENVIRONMENTAL
Animal Friend
Aquaculture
Conserve Wildlife
Discover Florida's Oceans
Everglades River of Grass
Fish Florida
Indian River Lagoon
Large Mouth Bass
Panther
Protect Florida Whales
Protect Our Reefs
Protect Wild Dolphins
Save Our Seas
Save the Manatee
Sea Turtle
Sportsmen's National Land Trust
State Wildflower
Tampa Bay Estuary

MISCELLANEOUS
A State of Vision
Agricultural Education
Agriculture
American Red Cross
Boy Scouts of America
Challenger
Choose Life
Donate Organs
End Breast Cancer
Family First
Family Values
Florida Arts
Florida Educational
Florida Golf Capital of the World
Florida Salutes Veterans
Florida Sheriff's Youth Ranch
Florida Special Olympic
Hospice: Everyday is a Gift
Imagine
Invest in Children
Keep Kids Drug Free
Kids Deserve Justice
Live the Dream
Motocycle Specialty
Parents Make A Difference
Police Athletic League
Police Benevolent Association
Salutes Firefighters
Share the Road
Stop Child Abuse
Stop Heart Disease
Support Homeownership For All
Support Soccer
U.S. Air Force
U.S. Army
U.S. Coast Guard
U.S. Marine Corps
U.S. Navy
U.S. Olympic
U.S. Paratroopers
United We Stand

PROFESSIONAL SPORTS
Florida Marlins (Baseball)
Florida Panthers (Hockey)
Jacksonville Jaguars (Football)
Miami Dolphins (Football)
Miami Heat (Basketball)
Orlando Magic (Basketball)
Tampa Bay Buccaneers (Football)
Tampa Bay Devil Rays (Baseball)
Tampa Bay Lightning (Hockey)

UNIVERSITIES
Barry University
Bethune-Cookman College
Clearwater Christian College
Eckerd College
Edward Waters College
Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University
Flagler College
Florida A & M University
Florida Atlantic University
Florida College
Florida Gulf Coast University
Florida Hospital College of Health Sciences
Florida Institute of Technology
Florida International University
Florida Memorial University
Florida Southern College
Florida State University
Jacksonville University
Lynn University
New College of Florida
Nova Southeastern University
Palm Beach Atlantic University
Ringling School of Art and Design
Rollins College
Saint Leo University
Saint Thomas University
Southeastern University
Stetson University
University of Central Florida
University of Florida
University of Miami
University of North Florida
University of South Florida
University of Tampa
University of West Florida
Warner Southern College


Another good thing about the Florida DMV experience...they process and hand your new license back to you in a matter of minutes. Just like Sam's! And I checked. It does allow you to get back into Texas.

Did You Hear That?

I thought someone had broken into the house.

Joan and I had been out shopping and got in around 9 p.m. Drew was flying in from D.C. later that night, so we were expecting to come in to a quiet empty house. As we were standing in the entry with our arms full of bags, we heard a door slam in the back of the house. Joan turned around and looked at me with wide eyes and I said, "Did you hear that?" She nodded her head. "Do you want to leave?" This time she answered from the front seat of the car with her purse clutched tightly in her hands. I was right behind her.

We drove to the security hut and told our story. "Wow." said the guard, without enough passion. "You must be really scared."
So I asked in my best damsel in distress accent, "Could you go in the house with me and be sure no one is in there?"
"No. But I'll send someone to drive around a few times."

Long story short, I called 911. And as calmly as I could, I explained that it was probably the wind, but we heard a noise that sounded like a door slamming in the back of the house. Because we are in an unincorporated part of Largo, they transferred me to the county sheriff's office. "We'll send someone right over."

We parked in the driveway across the street and waited, hoping the officer wouldn't turn on his lights or siren. Within minutes not one, but two cars pulled up. Seemed like it was overkill, but it beat the response of the security guard, so I got out and greeted them. They were extremely polite and reassured me that they would search the house inside and out. Joan and I giggled nervously as I got back in the car. "I can't believe they sent two cars!"
"Me either!"

Two minutes later...two more cars.

Two minutes later...another car with "Canine Unit" written on the side.

Neighbors trying to get home were making U-turns to avoid getting caught in the gunfire at the Texas Crack House.

Ten minutes later, the security guard tootled up in his golf cart. I lowered my window to assure him we were okay. "Hello! We're okay!" He didn't see us. I opened the car door so the light would come on. "Yoo-hooo! Over here! Don't worry! We're fine!" Again, no indication that he knew we were 30 feet away. Maybe he couldn't hear me over the Police Dog barking so loudly...or Joan laughing hysterically in the floorboard.

At this time I would like to express my deep gratitude to the entire Pinellas County Sheriff's Department for their quick response and their thorough investigation of our house and surrounding property. Their conclusion was that our back bedroom door was not completely shut when we left (it opens to the screened lanai, which was locked)and when we opened the front door, the wind caught and slammed it shut.

The "Going Beyond The Call of Duty Award" goes to the two officers who stayed in the driveway without us asking or knowing, until Drew got home. I think it was their way of saying, "Wow. You must be really scared."

Duck, Duck, Goose! Lizard! Alligator!

In, on and around our pond we have ducks, seagulls, turtles, a pink bird that is not a flamingo (or else he had a bad beak job), squirrels and several white birds that we have yet to identify. I have found great comfort in their presence because it reassured me that no responsible mother duck would lay her eggs in a pond that had alligators. (Survival tip: A young man on a plane told me that if I ever saw an alligator, I should run away in a zig zag pattern to confuse him and slow him down. I told him that was perfect, because I already run in a zig zag pattern.)

I'm almost used to all the little geckos that greet me every time I step outside...and sometimes inside. I've learned that if I stomp my feet before I open the door, they usually head for the bushes. Joan became an excellent stomper while she was here. One night I found a frog in the kitchen. I invited Drew to come get it, and when he reached down to pick it up, it hopped behind some boxes. "Rats," he said. I gave him the look and pointed in Joan's direction. She yelled from the other room, "What? Did you get it?" "Got it!" Drew lied. I smiled approvingly. "Good answer."

The ones that make us laugh are the Canadian geese. According to a neighbor, they migrated south for the winter about 7 or 8 years ago and never went back. (I hear that happens to a lot of Canadian people, too.) When we first saw them in our back yard, I yelled for Drew to grab some bread out of the pantry while I got the camera. He quietly held out a piece to see if he could get them to take it from his hand. Within a few minutes, not only were they eating out of his hand, they were nipping at his ankles to speed up the service and we were running for our lives!


Another neighbor came by one morning while Joan was upstairs putting on her make-up and said, "You do know that we have alligators in our ponds. Not to make you nervous (too late) but if there's not one there today, there was one yesterday or there will be one tomorrow because they move from pond to pond. The snake you don't have to worry about is the black racer. He's about 3 feet long and the good news is that he doesn't want anything to do with you, he's just looking for rats. (rats? I have rats?!) If you shuffle your feet when you walk in the grass, he'll go the other way." So, I zig zag for gators, stomp for lizards and shuffle for snakes and run from the geese ? What if I do the wrong thing? I still don't know all the steps to the Electric Slide.

Anyway, she just sat on my sofa and smiled the whole time she was telling me this and finally I screamed, "JOAN! I HAVE RATS AND BLACK SNAKES AND ALLIGATORS!" I guess she didn't know Joan was upstairs, because she backed out of the house and never came back. I was sort of hoping we could have lunch some day so she could teach me some more survival moves, but she left so quickly she forgot to leave her address or phone number.

rats.

The Florida Files

I'm home!

I have to practice saying that when I walk in the front door. Texas has been home my entire life. I'm not just in my Florida house...I'm home.

We have had the longest goodbye on record. On September 7th, 2006, Drew called to tell me that Raytheon needed him to relocate immediately. To California. We heard that 4 years ago. So this time we told only the kids. The timing and destination changed, but not the reality. We closed on our new home the end of May, sold our Texas house the end of July, and our furniture and other items arrived last week. If you are looking at a calendar, that means we have been in an empty house since June 4th. No internet and no TV. Edd Eason, it was the hardest Wilderness Trek EVER! Enough of that. We really managed amazingly well. God was sweet to give us time together without media distractions.

I have kept a written mini-journal of the adventure that I hope to post in bits and pieces. But for now, here are some pics of our new location.

We're home!

okay, wait...can somebody tell me how to post photos?!

Shower to Shower

Can we talk?

About showers.

Baby showers, 2nd baby showers, 3rd baby showers, baby showers before the wedding showers, wedding showers, 2nd wedding showers, baby showers for members’ children who do not attend RE, showers for members’ grandchildren who do not attend RE, showers (aka: ‘Senior Teas’) for girls who graduate high school...what am I leaving out?

I love a party. If you can think of a reason to honor someone you can borrow my forks or have it at my house. I’m not suggesting that we have shower police, but there are some inconsistencies and I just need to think out loud for a minute.

The Young Families class has a pretty good system. They have brunches during class for 2nd, 3rd, etc. babies. Even if you are having your 4th baby boy, diapers and hugs are always appreciated. Can I have an AMEN, Susan Thomas?

Maybe I’m still longing for the good ol’ days of the Lubbock Broadway church of Christ wedding showers. I don’t know who wrote the rules, but here’s how it went down. You registered at Dillard’s and Hemphill-Well’s. Target hadn’t hit town yet. There were no pricing guns, although Drew would have loved that. Just a fussy west Texas gal who had been in that department for 30 years and frowned if you even thought about registering for anything besides dishes, glassware, silver, linens and small kitchen appliances.


But here’s my favorite part. You had them look up the name of the bride, bought the gift, and they took care of delivering it to the hostess’ house, unwrapped! So on SATURDAY, when all showers should be held, all you had to do was get to Gladys Ellis’ house. She would be standing at the door with the bride and the mothers of the couple, while her friends took their assigned places at the food table, kitchen sink, and gift room.

The gifts were all on display, so you greeted the honoree, grabbed a plate and cup of something, and went to the gift room to oooh and ahhh over all the treasures. You could come and go anytime between 2:00 and 4:00, and get on with the rest of your day. The advantages are 1) you actually got to say hello to the bride 2) there was a better chance of getting a parking place in front of and inside the house, because we weren’t all there at once 3) you didn’t have to pay for gift wrap.

I know that isn’t practical in the metroplex. We live all over the place and delivery isn’t complimentary anymore. But my friends were sweet to let me break tradition when our boys got married. I just didn’t want Kyla and Terran sitting and opening packages for two hours and not getting to meet any of you. A few people were suspicious about why I wanted gifts to be brought unwrapped, until I explained. We loved it. Okay...enough about that.

Here’s my other concern. The hostess thing. I have had several young women/new members ask me how to get on a hostess list. So here’s how I explain it. We have unofficial shower teams. Each team wants to have a lovely party for the honoree. Each team wants to go in on a nice hostess gift. Some teams prefer to have several hostesses so the expenses can be shared. Some prefer to have several hostesses so more can be spent on the hostess gift. The problem for the rookie is knowing ahead of time which team she has joined. For some budgets, it can come as quite a shock to receive a sticky note at the end of the party saying she owes $50 or more. For others, it is just as painful to find out that their cost is much less than they would have normally contributed for a gift to their friend.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and say this; if you want to help with a shower and have a limit, let the house hostess know, and it will be worked out. Sometimes we have each brought food and a gift, and shared the lesser expenses. If the cost needs to be reduced, then those who feel a need to spend more can give an additional gift to the honoree. It’s pretty much determined by the hostess who is cleaning her potties for the party. And if you want to be a hostess and can't be there for the event, you can pay your part and be a ghostess! 

That’s just my opinion. What do you think?

I Think I am an Angry Black Woman

Karen, you wanted to know why I was crying during church yesterday. John did a great job with his sermon, "God is for Girls".

I had a very unexpected reaction. I can't blame it all on hormones. I know the message wasn't about women's role in the church. But with every scripture that affirmed equality in God's eyes, my heart ached for the fact that we still don't get it. (me included) I was so thankful that you were on the praise team and got to read a scripture without singing it..., only after one man started it and another man ended it, and almost simultaneously wondered how long we would have to wait before Katie and Matalee would be able to be the ones to tell the congregation about freedom and equality in Christ. Then I felt like an angry black woman on Martin Luther King Day! (you asked...)

I know RE is more open minded than most churches of Christ. Every January I hear the interview on TV...usually a white person asking a black person if they feel like there has been progress made in the racial movement. Often the answer is, 'we haven't come far enough'...and as the reporter points out the fact that there is a black governor somewhere and Oprah's doing well...I sit there thinking to my white self, "Quit whining about how far you have to go and be thankful for how far you've come." But even as I tried to tell myself that yesterday, I thought, if someone said that to me right now I would slap 'em!

While I am mentally slapping people (!), I am thinking "Gee, maybe next week the sermon can be, "God is for Black People." And maybe we can find a couple of black people to be on the praise team and read scriptures (after a white man has started it and another white man has ended it) and we'll read that same scripture about neither Jew nor Greek, male or female, slaves or...

Then I think, "I can't believe I am so upset. I love this church. I don't walk around feeling repressed. John gets it. Houston gets it. Drew has a huge responsibility to lead this church with people on both ends and every place in between. Actually just one end. The people who feel very strongly that women don't have an opportunity to express their gifts here have gone somewhere else. The ones who are here are the ones who think women are supposed to 'stay in their place' or at best be patient for another 10 or 50 years. or more.

I thought of the women who are gone that we'll never be able to hear from...and then I had a holocaust flashback...then I wondered if Katie would notice if I used her night-night to wipe my nose...then I wished that I could say this without men immediately thinking that I wanted to preach or serve communion standing up...and then I just wanted to leave.

Last night at LIFE group we watched the Lee Stroebel DVD series about the same topic, and during our discussion, Drew asked what we thought about the service I said I thought there was something precious and pathetic about it at the same time. After the guys dropped their jaws on my new rug, I tried to explain how I felt. By the time it was over, the guys all looked like deer caught in the headlights, but the girls were smiling, so I don't think I scared them off forever.

The most touching part of the service for me was the song, "Lifter of My Head". As I was feeling so awful for feeling so awful, I had this image of Jesus, not standing way above me, but sitting next to me, leaning over and trying to look me in the eyes...putting his finger under my chin, lifting it up and smiling...almost grinning at me. As if he was saying, "It's okay to tell me how you really feel. I get it."
Thanks for asking and loving me anyway. I have an appointment with the hormone replacement therapist at 1:30 Tuesday. I love you, aunt carolyn

The NOCANTELOS

Yesterday afternoon I ran some errands over by Collin Creek Mall. The Learning Patch, Michael’s, Family Christian Bookstore, Hobby Lobby…Before I went back up to my classroom I wanted to check in with Drew. I reached in my purse to get my cell phone and it wasn’t in its little holder. I checked the floorboard of the Suburban, between the seats, my teacher tote bag, dumped my purse, dumped my tote bag, and then decided I had left it in one of the stores. So, I rushed back to my first stop which was closing in five minutes.

I grabbed my keys and ran in and asked the clerk if a phone had been turned in and she said no. So I asked her if I could call my number to see if I had put it down while I was shopping. Sure enough, I heard it ring. Right by the counter! I must have set it there while I was writing my check. I started moving her display around to find it. Maybe it fell on the floor. I can hear it, I just can’t find it. So I put my keys in my pocket to search with both hands and…the phone was in my pocket. For a second I thought about throwing it on the floor and exclaiming, “Here it is!” Then I figured if she was working in a teacher store the last week of school, she had seen worse.

This confirmed a medical disorder that I am certain I must have. Noise Orientation Confusion And Not Telling Exact Location Of Source. Or, in medical terms… I’ve got the NOCANTELOS. There are buttons to push on our remote phone at home. But it only beeps for about two seconds and that’s not enough time for me to get in the starting position, push the button and then run all over the house trying to find the thing before it stops beeping. I hear it. I just can’t find it. I NOCANTELO. I cringe when I hear an emergency siren in traffic. Is it behind me? Coming towards me? I don’t know whether I should pull over because I NOCANTELO!

You know that small still voice from within? I’ve heard things like, “Speak up.”, “Keep your mouth shut.”, “You should call her.” “Pray for them.” But for years, I also heard things like, “There’s no way you will be able to do that.” “You don’t deserve this. You’re not worth it.” “God is tired of hearing that request.” “He won’t forgive you for that…again.” It wasn’t a hearing problem. I was having trouble discerning the source.

It wasn’t until I started spending more time praying than I did ‘just thinking about things’ that I became able to hear His voice over Satan’s. When I actually began reading and meditating on His words instead of replaying negative mental tapes of old hell, fire and brimstone sermons, then He began to give me some perspective on what was Truth in my life. Even when He says something that I don’t especially want to hear, I know my Shepherd’s sweet voice, and I want to be near it. The Spirit is closer than a cell phone in my pocket. The closer I am to Him, the better chance I have of locating His voice.

Drew and I stayed on the Riverwalk in San Antonio for a few days. I was telling him about this article and my unfortunate medical condition. Just then we heard sirens on the street above us. “Can you tell which way they’re heading?” I asked. He immediately pointed east and the trucks soon headed that direction. I asked him how he knew that. He asked me how I didn’t.

“Alamocantelo.”