Casa de Castro

Fourth of July, 2010

2010-07-05T15:10:00.018-05:00

I love the Fourth of July. I love red, white, and blue, and I love them together for what they invoke in my heart and mind.

Freedom. Fantastic freedom. Freedom that isn't free, but purchased by the blood and bravery of men and women who loved America and sacrificed to keep her liberties intact.

Patriotism. Something we see less and less of as time marches on. I saw a piece today written by Ed Morrissey that made me think. It said (in part):

"Pardon me while I indulge one of my pet peeves — and try to determine whether this is a widespread phenomenon, or just a local affliction of amnesia. Every major holiday, I make sure to fly the flag at my house, and every major holiday, almost every one of my neighbors do not. I hate to break out a “I walked sixteen miles to school barefoot in the snow, uphill both ways” argument, but it’s true that when I was a child, it seemed that every house had a flag out on the Fourth of July, at least, and usually on the other national holidays as well. After 9/11, my neighborhood temporarily recovered from its collective amnesia to start displaying the American flag, but nine years later, we’re back to seeing more Twins and Vikings flags than Old Glory."

He's right. When we drove down the street on the way home from church yesterday (more about THAT in a moment), I counted only three houses on our street with flags flying. Ours was one of them.

It saddens me that our country is so divided and polarized these days. How have we gotten SO far from what the founding fathers intended when they came to the New World seeking, among other things, freedom of religion? Not freedom FROM religion, but freedom OF religion. The "separation of church and state" does NOT mean the government cannot or should not embrace the Judaeo-Christian principles on which our country was built. In reality, that phrase was intended to guarantee that our government would never CONTROL the church as it did and still does in England. It guaranteed our freedom to worship as we see fit and are led by God. Even Thomas Jefferson, surely a polytheist, would be astounded at how far America has drifted from the intentions of our founders.

What better place was there to begin a Fourth of July celebration than in church? Honoring the ideals of brave men and women and the sacrifices of generations of soldiers, sailors and airmen and most importantly, acknowledging God's hand of blessing on our homeland and from Whom true freedom comes.

How did I get SO far from the post I intended to write? There's a lot happening in my little brain, and apparently it needed to come out!

Another of my favorite things is spending time with my family. And when they come to our house, I hope they feel welcome and loved by the little things I enjoy doing to make things festive.

Like this:
I wanted a centerpiece befitting the occasion, but also befitting my budget. This is $1.98 plastic hat turned upside down for use as a planter. Kroger had red carnations, white daisies, and one lone blue hydrangea that cried out to go home with me to grace the dining room table!

The hydrangea had been beaten up a little and had a small hole in the top of the bloom. I filled it with a happy little daisy, and no one knew the difference!

Instead of the usual names-written-in-Sharpie on plastic cups, I decided to try something different. Using plain white name tags from Office Depot, I printed portraits of various presidents from the web site of the White House.
Each person "picked a President" and that was the way we kept up with whose cup was whose.

Because I did the work, I got to choose my cup first. (Hostess' prerogative, doncha know.) I chose Ronald Reagan. It was humorous to see "sweat" running down President Reagan's face as the condensation formed on the cup!
Here's the drink counter, complete with freshly brewed orange tea, a family favorite.
And the beginning of the buffet line:
We had a great time of fellowship and as a family, enjoyed our many freedoms. We feasted on the bounty the Lord has so graciously provided, and we laughed and giggled and enjoyed being together.

Happy birthday, America. May you continue to be the great nation God uses and blesses.

99 Things

2010-03-03T10:17:00.002-06:00

I got tagged... so here it is!

Instructions:
Copy the list, bold the ones you've done (with explanations if needed), share with friends.

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain (spent my early years in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia)
9. Held a praying mantis (in the second grade)
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a thunder and lightning storm (learned to be fascinated by them early on, but don't like the destructive ones!)
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch (Candlewicking... should do more of that)
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort (early years in Virginia, 'member?)
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset (both!! Absolutely breathtaking on Grand Cayman)
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language (workin' on it now with Rosetta Stone!)
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied (once upon a time)
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight (LOVE to do that with my hubby)
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling (Snorkled in Grand Cayman and Hawaii)
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie (if home movies count, then yes... lots!)
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business (I had a medical transcription service)
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching (my dream vacation... on my bucket list)
63. Got flowers for no reason (my husband is very, very thoughtful)
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma (only once, but can't now because of my blood disorder)
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter (over the volcano on Maui - beautiful)
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy (I probably should get those from my parents' house!)
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job (don't even get me started)
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone (several)
78. Been a passenger on a motorcycle (Shhh... don't tell my daddy)
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car (won't ever do that again!)
83. Walked in Jerusalem (also on the bucket list)
84. Had your picture in the newspaper (as a kid in Virginia, with a 9' tall Easter egg when I was 15, as a Planoette drill team member, with Leadership Plano)
85. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous (Christian singer Steve Green, former Dallas Cowboys Tony Dorsett and Randy White)
92. Joined a book club (miss being in one)
93. Got a tattoo (nope and won't)
94. Had a baby (...several in Heaven)
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit (following a car accident)
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

Documentary

2009-07-12T01:14:00.003-05:00

Faithful Friend Ministry's documentary video is FINALLY here! Check it out:

Click To Play

We are SO grateful to Rod Dixon, Matt Dixon and Robert Morris for their efforts in producing this first class video and showcasing the mission the Lord has given us.

What are YOU using for the Kingdom?

Eh... Uh.... Oh!!

2009-06-20T22:15:00.004-05:00

Blogger and I haven't been getting along. Two posts are written and sitting there in the list, but they will. not. publish. I copied and pasted them, deleted them, reposted, and they simply will not publish.

So I decided it was a good time to take a bloggy break seeing how I couldn't, you know, POST anything.

Hmmmmmph.

Then my little friend Suze told me in very clear terms that it is time for a new post.

I sat down to write about one of the 11,000 things in my head, and nothing would come. It's Blogger's fault. I'm sure of that.

Tomorrow is Father's Day. It isn't just ANY Father's Day, but the one right after my daddy has had some scary health issues. I was reminded once again that my least favorite site in the world is someone I love in a hospital bed. However, Dad never lost his sense of humor, and he did keep us all entertained. Thankfully, he is doing well now, and all the scary stuff is behind us. God is good. And so is my daddy.

So tomorrow, we're gonna get together as a family and celebrate him and remember the good times we've shared while we're making new memories. We'll laugh a lot, and there will certainly be some pictures taken. Of course there will be presents. And hugs. Lots and lots of hugs.

Studly got to spend three days with his dad in South Texas this week. At almost 87, my father-in-love is going strong. Every Father's Day with him is a gift, as it is with my dad. If you're able, reach out to your own dad and tell him how much he is loved. Don't let it go unsaid.

To all you dads out there, Happy Father's Day!!

To MY dad... I love you dearly and SO glad God chose YOU to be my daddy.

Wow.

See what I did there?

Nice work, Jenn.

Sat down to grumble about Blogger and ended up making myself grateful for my two wonderful fathers!

Okay, Blogger. I forgive you.

Fifty-five Years of Studly

2009-05-16T10:16:00.006-05:00

I absolutely LOVE this picture of Studly Man. Such a cowboy! I think this was when he still lived in Peru and his dad's job on a zillion acres owned by W.R. Grace permitted access to ponies. I love his little outfit, his saddle oxfords, and the way his two-gallon hat sits back on his head.

Cute back then.

Still cute today.

His hat is bigger. His pony has been replaced by a Faithful Friend, and his toy six-shooter is now a real pistola.

Oh, yeah. And he grew a beard.

Happy birthday, Studly. Although you're officially a double-nickle senior citizen, you'll always have that little boy charm that warms my heart.

I love you.

Still Considering the Iris

2009-04-29T21:57:00.006-05:00

Days later, and I'm still marveling at both the handiwork of God and how well my little camera captured it!

The colors: some bold, some pale.

The frills: some delicate, some strong.

The blooms: all breathtaking, all proof of the Creator's endless imagination.

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Psalm 19:1

Still more to come. Check back soon!

Consider the Irises and How They Grow

2009-04-26T19:35:00.006-05:00

In our yard in Virginia, my mom grew some of the most beautiful iris flowers I've ever seen. I've always loved them. So elegant. So delicate. So lovely.

Studly and I took a Sunday drive this afternoon.

To see beautiful iris flowers.

Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Luke 12:27

More to come. Stay tuned!

No Itching Here

2009-04-20T00:15:00.000-05:00

Seven years ago today, I married my best friend.

Since then, life has been crazy and fun and full of surprises and adventures. Most of them have been wonderful; a few have been difficult. All of them have been easier because we've had each other.

We've laughed. A lot.

We've journeyed through life together.

We've cried some, too.

And we've had our communication challenges and our moments when communication simply didn't exist. We've frustrated each other. We've even made each other angry.

But those things make us human.

It's hard to remember life before April 20, 2002. Life before sharing a bathroom and fighting for the covers on a cold night. Life before the inevitable toilet seat up-versus-down debate. Life before the risk of having someone else eat your leftovers before you could get to them. Life before sharing the remote control. Life before splitting holiday and vacation time between TWO families.

But I wouldn't trade any of it. (Okay, I'd trade the toilet seat being up in the middle of the night.) Because through all of those adventures, we've become a team. We've built a home together that is a haven for us. We've grown a ministry together. We've become family.

Happy anniversary, Studly Man.

I love you.

Celebrating Easter

2009-04-17T23:47:00.014-05:00

As in years past, Studly Man and I enjoyed hosting the family and our dear friend, Ben, at Casa de Castro for our Easter celebration. And as usual, I had fun planning and preparing and getting everything ready. I absolutely LOVE the colors of Spring and the colors of Easter; they represent a renewing, a return to life, and they bring me joy.

For the centerpiece on the kitchen table (where the snacks were laid out for those youngsters - okay, for all of us - to graze on before the big meal), I wanted something cheerful and bright and fun. I found a beautiful bouquet of 20 tulips in lavender, pink, yellow, and salmon. Gorgeous! Made my heart sing!

I put them in a nesting vase and anchored it with jelly beans. I ran out of jelly beans, and was ready to go get some more to finish my lovely design, but Studly said I couldn't spend more money on more candy that no one would eat. He said no one would notice if the jelly beans filled the vase or only went half way. Ya know what? He was right! No one even noticed the vase had ANY jelly beans in it! So we saved $2.99.

But the tulips were still gorgeous.

I had these cute little egg stands, and I also had an assortment of cute little eggs. I put them together, and voila! Cute little stands with eggs! The stands are in various colors, and they made fun little accents.

I also used the drink charms I made for Thanksgiving to identify each person's glass. My dad (or "Paw" as he is known to the grandkids and now to all of us) had his miniature Bible charm on his glass.

For the place cards, I again wanted something that involved the beautiful colors of Spring but also signified new life, new creation, new beginnings.

Enter: the butterflies!

I was pleased with how they turned out. I was also pleased that Cammie's was blue, Rachel's was orange, and Megan's was purple. Those things matter, ya know!

We had a wonderful day and basked in the blessings of family, faith, and friends. The greatest joy of all was and is the victory that is ours because of Jesus.

...and they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, and they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. Two men in dazzling clothing said, "Why do you seek the living One among the dead? He is not here, but He has RISEN!"

Doesn't Everyone?

2009-04-06T21:49:00.005-05:00

The Gregorian calendar says today is April 6. That's 17 full days after the beginning of Spring. More than two weeks! The vernal equinox marks the end of Winter and the beginning of Spring.

So why is it supposed to get down to 28 degrees tonight? Unless I remember incorrectly, that's below freezing. And temperatures below freezing don't occur in Texas 17 days after the first day of Spring.

Wasn't there some big movie about the Earth having a fever and the giant threat that is global warning?

Guess Al wasted his money on that!

FREEZING!

In April!

My local nursery and the weathermen on every channel were kind enough to warn me to bring the plants in. So I did what any smart wife would do. I asked Studly to bring in the potted plants.

He's such a good boy. He did it!

(I'm keeping him.)

I walked by the bathroom on the far side of the house a while ago. Something seemed strange.

I turned the light on in there, and this is what I found:

The bathroom has become a temporary greenhouse.

Doesn't everyone store potted plants in the shower?

If they have to stay in there very long, it will be easy to water them. That Studly is genius. Pure genius!

31 Flavors

2009-03-31T21:40:00.009-05:00

This year's flavor was chocolate pecan. As in chocolate pecan pie.

I can taste it just typing those words.

On Saturday, I celebrated my birthday for the 31st time with my BFF, Burlene.* (Burlene is also known as Matilda on this blog. She's neither Burlene nor Matilda, but roll with it.) Thirty-one years we've been friends. Thirty-one birthdays celebrated together. (Well, 62 birthdays if you count hers.)

That's so strange.

'Cuz I'm only 29.

Oh, I kid.

She was there on my 16th birthday when her brother/my high school sweetheart surprised me with a lovely gift. I was no doubt wearing overalls with a tube top underneath and no shoes. And she loved me any way. We've celebrated in some unusual places in unconventional ways, but we've celebrated nonetheless.

This year, Burlene/Matilda took me (Juantela Wayne*) to my favorite tea room for lunch and some serious girl time, although there was no discussion of armpits this time.* It was a FABULOUS meal, and of course, we topped it off with pie. Chocolate pecan pie.

Girl talk with the BFF over lunch followed by pie, presents, and shopping. Is there anything better than that? I think not!
Thanks, Burlene, for a wonderful day. More importantly, thanks for being my forever friend through thick and thin, up and down, good times and tough times and everything in between. Thanks for loving me just the way I am and always seeing the good in me. Thank you for helping me see beauty and joy in the simplest of things and for reminding me of the value of laughter. Thank you for praying with and for me and sharing the challenges of ministry. Thank you for loving Jesus above all else. You are a treasure.

A friend loves at ALL times. Proverbs 17:17a

*LONGstanding funnies from the "Life's Funniest/Most Embarrassing Moments" annals.

Eureka!!!

2009-03-20T15:56:00.004-05:00

I've been having a spat with Blogger.

A long spat.

Blogger won.

I think Blogger was simply jealous of all the time I've been spending with his rival, Facebook.

I had three posts written that Blogger flatly refused to publish. They're still sitting over there in the "draft" column.

Won't publish. No way. No how.

BUT....

the fine peeps at Blogger assure me the problem is fixed.

Except I still can't publish those posts.

If THIS one publishes... I'll see if I can cut and paste the others into new posts that can be published.

This blogging stuff is hard!!

Mr. Facebook isn't this contrary....

Letting Sleeping Dogs Lie

2009-02-19T22:20:00.003-06:00

Because they're so sweet when they're sleeping....

BigDog was asleep on the portion of the ottoman not occupied by Studly's legs, and Little was asleep on said legs, almost nose to nose with his sister.

Ahhh.... the quiet!

Daughters of the King

2009-02-12T20:40:00.008-06:00

Last week, my friend, Heather, celebrated her 30th birthday. Two of her lifelong friends, Amy and Amy, and I had a princess tea party for her.

I KNOW!

A) I have friends.
B) I have friends who are only 30.

Since we'd had such a fun time at Princess Betty's birthday party, Amy #2 and I decided we'd surprise Heather with the same idea. She's a ham as you will soon see, so we knew it would be a home run.

Here is Heather with Amy #1.

Amy #1 won the prize for the longest drive to attend a princess tea party that day. She drove four hours to surprise Princess Heather. I didn't witness it personally, but rumor has it Heather did the ugly cry when she saw Amy #1. I love ugly cries.

And here's Heather with Amy #2 (my planning partner in crime)

And here she is with me. Do I look 17 years older than Heather? Why, yes. Yes, I do.

And here are all the princesses together. Note that Cinderella, Belle and Sleeping Beauty joined the festivities. We had a blast. We laughed and we ate. We laughed some more. We ate some more. We talked about the Lord and what a difference He has made in all of our lives. We are princesses... we're daughters of the King! (All of us except Cinderella. Her tiara was prettier than ours, so we're not letting her play with us any more.)

The tea room is nestled in the back corner of a darling little shop that is geared to kids, mostly girl-type kids. We embarrassed ourselves browsed around for a while. And then Amy #2 came running over to get my camera/phone because Heather was being a, well, you know, a ham.

Girl cracks me up.

Just as we were leaving, the hostesses for a bridal shower came in to begin setting up in the tea room. When a woman pulled the cake from its bakery box, I couldn't believe my eyes.

There, in all its splendor, was an armadillo cake.

Yes. It IS red velvet. I asked.

Think "Steel Magnolias" and Shelby and Jackson's red velvet armadillo "groom's cake" that Jackson's aunt made. Ouiser Boudreaux cut off the tail and served it up to Drum Eatenton, Shelby's dad.

I hope the bride-to-be thought it was funny.

And yes, I DID send the pictures into the Cake Wrecks blog.

As we walked to the parking lot, Amy #1 said her feet were hurting her. Apparently she had a recent injury, and her pups were none too happy to be pent up in some high heeled shoes. She took the shoes off and stood in the parking lot for a few minutes as we said our goodbyes.

When she stepped away, this is what we saw.

Not only did her pups not like the pain inflicted by the shoes, they also couldn't breathe!

I'm still laughing about that.

It was a grand day, and I'm so glad to have been able to celebrate with my precious friends. God is good. Indeed, He is good.

And so is red velvet armadillo cake.

Ma and Pa Kettle Go To Costco

2009-02-02T21:01:00.010-06:00

Costco.

It's a wonderful thing.

Everyone should go to Costco. At least once.

My mom and dad had never been to Costco. Until today. Oh, they'd been to Sam's Club many times. But Costco? Never.

AND they'd never had LUNCH at Costco.

I had to fix that. 'Cuz if you've never had a Hebrew National all beef hot dog and a 20 oz Diet Coke - with refill - at Costco all for the low, low price of $1.50, you have. not. lived.

So...

Studly Man and I decided Ma and Pa needed an adventure. Adventures require fuel. Fuel consists of food.

We ate hot dogs.

And drank Diet Coke.

We could have gone home after that, and my day would have been complete.

But in the interest of stretching our adventure, we went shopping.

At Costco.

Now Ma had both of her knees replaced a few years back. She's doin' great and gets around fine, but we thought the motorized cart would serve her well since the warehouse is so big and all. That, and she just looks so cute drivin' one.

Not to be outdone, Pa got a cart, too. See, he NEEDS to have a knee or two replaced, but he ain't interested. Since he'll be 79 next month, we figured a motorized cart would be okay for him, too. That, and he just looks so cute drivin' one.

Before we actually moved into the actual official shopping area, I laid down the law. No racin', no honkin', no cart bumpin'.

Ahem.

Off we went.

We looked at flat screen TVs. (They've got a GORGEOUS 46" Sony for the bargain price of $1,799. I'll take two, please.) We looked at computer stuff. We contemplated the at-home keg because who doesn't need a new one of those? We looked at the car covers because you never know when the need for one might arise. We looked at toasters. Pa bought Ma a new one recently, and he wanted to make sure he'd gotten a good deal.

And then we arrived at the bakery. We salivated and contemplated, but since we were so full from those Hebrew National all beef hot dogs we'd just eaten, we passed on dessert.

But then...

Then it happened. We came upon the butcher shop. It was a thing to behold, that Ma of mine comparison price shopping. Now let me tell you. My Ma can comparison price shop you right under the table. She can smell a deal. Pa? He can smell the deal once she's home cookin' it, so he followed (somewhat) quietly behind her and occasionally sipped on his Diet Coke after retrieving it from the basket of his chariot.

Ma was wowed by the vast array of choices.
There was a cart traffic jam, but that didn't stop Ma from doing her work. She sweetly smiled at that pushy broad nice lady who refused to yield right-of-way at the salmon section and went methodically on about her business.

Next, we motored on over to the cleaning and laundry supplies. Ma had never seen a box of laundry detergent that was bigger than her kitchen table. She was impressed! Studly went over to help lift it off the shelf, because everyone knows you need a box of laundry detergent bigger than the kitchen table. Pa dutifully watched and waited and sipped Diet Coke while guarding the 5,700 rolls of Charmain Ultra Ma had procured a moment earlier. Good deals, y'all. Good deals.
Ma and Pa and I strolled/drove leisurely up and down the aisles to survey the inventory in the awesomeness that is Costco. I realized after a while I hadn't seen Studly for lo unto a half an hour or more.

And then I turned the corner.

And there he was... relaxing in a comfy glider/recliner and eating ice cream he'd lifted from the sample lady. He was so cute sittin' there I would have bought him that recliner if only I'd had an extra $299.99.
We price checked 87 gallon drums of olives and a 200-pack of yogurt cups. We passed the four gallon jugs of mayonnaise and the packages of spaghetti large enough to feed Minneapolis. At last we came to the pharmacy section. That's where things got ugly.

Did you know that THREE senior citizens riding motorized carts, TWO very busy and important ladies with regular carts, one slightly disoriented son-in-law, and a frenzied daughter don't fit well in one skinny little pharmacy aisle? Well, we found out.

I instructed my drivers to back up, retreat, turn around, and go the other way.

You have never heard such beeping and honking in your entire life! Pa went left. Ma went right. I went straight and pretended I'd never seen them before. It was chaos.

We were finally reunited, and just as we approached the coveted check-out lines, Pa said, "So, where's all the candy?" (He knew we'd bought Costco candy by the truck load for the kids we minister to in prison.) I pointed that direction, and off he went.

Studly excused himself to the necessary room (lotsa Diet Coke, ya know). Ma got in line with her cart behind me with mine. I paid for my items, and then....

it was Ma's turn.

But there was no Pa.

And HE had all their treasures in HIS basket.

Thankfully Studly emerged from his side trip, and I sent him to find Pa because causing unnecessary wait time in the check out line at Costco? NOT a good idea.

When no further damage could be done to Costco or her patrons, Ma paid as Pa drove by with their goods.

And all I could do was stand to the side and take pictures. And laugh.

Because they just look so cute...

Never Too Old

2009-01-29T21:09:00.007-06:00

Today was my boss' birthday. She turned another year older. My coworkers - some very savvy girls - and I decided the idea celebrating with the same old tired lunch at a nearby restaurant was so, um, yesterday. Come to think of it, using the term "yesterday" for something that is tired and outdated is, um, well, yesterday.

I digress.

Early in the week, we told the boss lady (whom we'll call Betty) that we were taking her to lunch. Yesterday (you know, the actual day before today, not the outdated term for something outdated), she asked where we were going. I told her I couldn't tell her.

This morning we told her we were going to the monster truck rally. She wasn't buying. She's smart like that. Then we told her we were taking her to the zoo. She didn't bite. (Sorry. Seemed to fit...) She knew it was too cold out for a trip to the zoo. She also knew we were aren't THAT lame.

When the last visitor left the office this morning, we loaded up in the car and headed out. We drove. And drove. We neared Casa de Castro. She said, "We're going to YOUR house? Studly Man (well, she didn't call him that; she used his name) is cooking?" Although that would have been a treat since Studly is quite the cook, alas, that was not the plan.

We drove some more. She guessed some more. She was wrong some more.

FINALLY we arrived at our destination... a lovely little tea room in the back of a darling children's boutique housed in a 100+ year old building.

But it wasn't just tea or even just lunch. It was a feast fit for a princess.

There was even a gaggle of princesses waiting for us!

And WE got to don tiaras and jewels, too.

Betty loved it. (AND she was a great sport.)

And I give you.... PRINCESS BETTY!A girl is never too old to be a princess.

Lunch was just delightful, and we had a great time.

Here's a (blurry) picture of the four of us.

Happy birthday, Betty!

Then and Now

2009-01-28T21:24:00.004-06:00

Today was interesting. I learned something new.

Actually, I learned something old... again.

The storm that has blanketed America covered our region with ice. Schools were closed. Even the schools that NEVER close were closed. Businesses shuttered for the day. Activities were canceled.

But my office was open.

I thought most people would cancel their appointments and opt to stay safe and warm at home.

And I was wrong.

No one canceled.

Everyone kept their appointments.

In fact, one person even called the office on a whim saying she unexpectedly had the day off from work because of the ice and was hopeful we'd had a cancellation so she could come in.

We did.

She did.

And ya know what?

I knew her.

Another lifetime ago, she was my friend. She was a beauty queen. She was talented and funny and popular. She was smart. She had it all figured out. And for a second, it felt like I was a teenager again, all insecure and unsure of my place in the world.

And then I remembered...

- She had come to MY office, a place I've been for 18 years.

- She was in my office because she, too, has insecurities.

- She has aged just like I have. She also isn't a teenager any more.

- Her life isn't perfect now. And it wasn't back then.

- I know a secret about her family that she doesn't know. When I was told, I was bound not to ever divulge my knowledge to her.

- She has challenges in her life that make mine pale in comparison.

All these years later, she's still beautiful. But so am I. And I know my place in this world. I know I am loved. The life God designed for me is more perfect than the path I would have chosen for myself if I'd given in to those insecurities so long ago. Because He knew me then as He knows me now, He didn't leave me to my own devices, but instead guided my steps to where I am today. He has given me more than I ever imagined and far more than I deserve.

He's given her a lot, too... more than she imagined and probably more than she deserves.

We're not so different after all.

And we said, "Yes, we'd LOVE to!"

2009-01-22T18:57:00.016-06:00

It's good to have friends.

It's better to have friends with lake houses!

D & B, our dear friends, recently purchased a house at a nearby lake. Now D & B have been favorite travel buddies for a long time, and they're VERY generous people. When they asked us if we'd like to go and spend a long weekend at their new place, of course we accepted. (We could do that because I'm on vacation this week, so rushing back home wasn't an issue.)

We envisioned a little cabin near the water with rustic fixtures and dated plumbing. Perhaps the deck would need a little refinishing to keep our feet from getting splinters (when we walk barefoot on it in the summertime of course). Maybe the bathroom would be damp and cold, and perhaps the bedroom would be dark and creepy.

Um.

We. were. wrong.

Here's what we saw when we drove up.
And then another view with our vehicles in front:

We entered to find an awesome "great room."

Looking from the fireplace towards the kitchen:

Check. out. this. stone. fireplace.

Dining room. Seats eight. (Other chairs in front of window.)

Gorgeous HUGE kitchen with granite counter tops. (I don't have those in my regular house, much less my non-existent lake house!)

Pretty hand-painted tiles.

Cozy breakfast nook.

Master bedroom. View out the window just to my right is simply a.m.a.z.i.n.g. You'll see it below.

Part of the master bath. Marble Jacuzzi tub? Yes, ma'am!

These stairs lead down to a whole other adventure.

The game room with a big flat screen for the "Guitar Hero" players in the family.

The bar/kitchenette downstairs.

Downstairs bedroom #1.

Downstairs bath. Two-sink vanity with TONS of cabinet and drawer space (most of which is not pictured) and a great shower/tub.

Downstairs bedroom #2.

Each floor has its own laundry area. I'll spare you those photos (you KNOW I took them!) 'cuz I'm pretty sure you've all seen washers and dryers before.

But back upstairs, we went out on the looooooong deck that runs the length of the house. There's a brand new five-burner grill that Studly Man helped to assemble and inaugurate at the end of it.

And sweet Snickers joined us for the trip. Doncha just wanna hug him?

Snickers LOVES Uncle Studly Man.

But the best part?

What's that you say?

What's the very BEST part of the house?

Why, the view, of course!

And the view at sunset

D & B will retire here in a few years. For now, it is a lovely place to escape for the weekend or heck, for a whole week! Some furniture and accessories remain on order, so it will become more like home with every trip.

Now, here's some irony. The picture below is the house of D & B's new next door neighbors. Pretty, right?

Take a close look at that gorgeous double front door.

Yep, Studly designed and built that steel entry way about eight years ago. He even stood on the slab of what is now D & B's new lake house before it was completed and sold to its first owner. (Same builder built both houses.) How's THAT for a small world!?!?

We had a great time. We hung paintings and valances and cooked steaks on the new grill. We watched several movies and slept in late. I think between all the cell phones present, we collectively had three incoming phone calls the whole time. Ah.... the quiet.

And ya know what's even more exciting? We have some OTHER really dear friends who have recently bought a house on ANOTHER lake (not quite as nearby, but close), and we've been invited out there, too! In fact, we've tried to get out there, but got sick. SKay, get ready!! We're headed your way. ;)

Coughin' and Sneezin'

2009-01-16T22:37:00.005-06:00

Cough.

Cough. Cough.

Sneeze.

Cough. Cough.

Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough.

Sneeze. Sneeze.

Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough.Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough.Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough.Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough.Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough.Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough.Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough.

Sneeze. Sneeze.

Sneeze.

CoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCough CoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCough CoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCough CoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCough CoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCough CoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCoughCough

Amen.

That's my life. In a nutshell. Just ask my friend Suze who has listened to it every.single.day.

It's been a tough few weeks what with all that coughing and sneezing. Haven't felt like blogging. But now?

NOW...

I'm better.

Finally.

And I'm on vacation.

I don't have to work again until January 26.

Jealous much?

Perhaps I'll stop by here some this next week and REALLY write something worthwhile.

Until then...

Happy trails.

can't... seem... to... blog...

2008-12-28T23:47:00.004-06:00

Hello one and all. I trust your Christmas was filled with love and laughter and peace and joy.

We had Christmas in our family, too. Why haven't I written about it?

Well...

a) My brain is so fried every December by the time Christmas rolls around, all I can do is sit, stare, and drool. (December is nuts in my office, what with all the peeps wanting to have surgery whilst they are on vacation from work or school and while deductibles are met, yielding the highest insurance benefits of the year.)

b) My dear husband got this flu bug thing that landed him in bed on Christmas Day.

c) My dear husband shared his flu bug thing with me, and I'm now buying stock in Tylenol Multi-Symptom cold products.

d) my attention has been mostly focused on my new little toy. Oh, I've had it since just before Thanksgiving, but that isn't nearly enough time to learn all about it and explore the various apps one could download.

e) I have developed an addiction to playing Demon Solitaire on my new toy. Or WordWarp. Or Wurdle. Or Pyramid Lite. Or Bejeweled. Or any other mindless yet stimulating game.

Let me know how YOUR holiday was. I promise I'll write about ours soon.

Well, if I can break away from... playing... with... the...

Gloria!

2008-12-14T22:53:00.009-06:00

Tonight my family went to see Gloria! at our church. Can I just say... A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.

We enjoyed EVERY second of it. We had awesome seats (what a story there!), and couldn't have asked for better ones. I took a few pictures with my iPhone.

Me-Again and her family came.

Dad and Mom came with us, too.

The 500+ voice choir and full orchestra rocked the house.

This year, there was a special guest. We had an up-close-and-personal view of him. We sat, um, pretty close.

Those feet? They belong to Daniel, my nephew who sat next to me. That round black and white thing a few feet away? The satellite stage where The Guest played the piano and sang and entertained.

Yeah. We were close.

And here he is at the piano, literally a few feet away. John Tesh.

He sang "It Wouldn't Be Christmas Without You," a song he wrote for his wife, Connie Selleca, to whom he has been married 17 years.

See that red streamer at the edge of the stage? At the end of the very first choir number, all these shiny streamers in different colors fell from the ceiling into the crowd. One landed right at the edge of the stage.

As soon as he finished the number he was playing, he came around and stood in front of the piano. He leaned down and picked up the streamer and then held it out to me saying, "Oh, a streamer fell. Ma'am, is this yours?" "Why, yes. Yes it is," I answered with cameras rolling all around. (DVD available on the church's web site in about four weeks!) My brush with greatness as David Letterman would say.

Next, John (we're on a first name basis now) called a seven-year-old little girl named Carly from the audience to help introduce his band. So cute!

He read his very own 2008 version of "Twas the Night Before Christmas." It was humorous and poignant. So what that his face is all washed out by the bright lights in this picture. HE WAS RIGHT. IN. FRONT. OF. ME.

His three instrumentalists and one vocalist (well, technically one person was an instrumentalist AND a vocalist) did a few numbers right there at our feet.

At the end of his final segment, he challenged the congregation to employ their gifts to help others and recognize our own personal ministries. He was great, and his love for the Lord was evident.

What a night. What a great night. It was...

GLORIOUS!

The Mantel

2008-12-12T13:18:00.008-06:00

When I was growing up, I always loved to visit my grandparents' homes. They were always full of wonder and interesting and different things than were seen around our house.

My dad was raised by his grandparents. They were the sweetest people. Most knew them as Stewart and Eugenia (or "Eugie" for short). I knew them as Nana and Gimpa. (Yes, Me-Again, I know. If I said "Stewart and Eugenia," I should've said "Gimpa and Nana," putting both references to them in the same gender order. But we didn't call them "Gimpa and Nana;" we called them "Nana and Gimpa." Deal with it. Love you.)

Ahem.

They lived in this big ten room house at 1829 Belleville that they purchased in 1926. (Picture taken in 2007. Still looks good!)They raised my dad in it and still lived there by the time Me-Again and I came along. We loved to explore the attic (the two small paned and gabled windows at the top) and wander through Nana's pantry to see what goodies might be awaiting us if she hadn't just made a fresh batch of her famous custard. Oh, how I'd love to have some of that custard now!

Visiting Nana and Gimpa and PawDad (my dad's dad who lived with them in his later years) was especially fun at Christmastime. Everything sparkled and was so lovely... a fantasy land for a little girl. In Nana's huge dining room, there was a table in front of the tall window that held the most wonderful ice skating scene made with a mirror, rolls of white cotton and darling plastic "skating snowmen" whose knapsacks held real lollipops that good little girls were allowed to sample. It even had little green pine trees that stood in the snowy cotton to complete the outdoor scene.

Perhaps our favorite thing in the house was The Mantel. Its crowning glory was the nativity scene she placed in the center. Nana bought in 1908 for PawDad's first Christmas. Every year she put it up with care, and she even wrote out directions for placement of each figure in case someone else had to put everything up in her absence. They included such details as placing the camel with the broken nose facing a certain direction "as if he was wandering off" so the broken part didn't show so much. Dad still has those written instructions.

Eventually Nana gave Daddy that nativity and Santa's sleigh with white plastic reindeer that went on one end of the very long mantel. (The other end had a gorgeous white church with a rotating color wheel in front of it. We loved watching the colors change. I'm sure one of Dad's cousins has the church now.) The nativity has been displayed on the mantel at Mom and Dad's house all these years since, and this year, it is 100 years old. One hundred years old. A century has passed since these small figures where purchased by a loving mother for her firstborn. I didn't realize it until just recently, but that mantel manger scene was part of the faith legacy of my family that was being passed on to me, even before I was born.

Check out these pictures.
PawDad (my grandfather) is in the center, and Gimpa (my great-grandfather) is on the far right. The nativity is behind them.
Taken the same year, this picture cracks me up. So serious! I always remember Nana as jolly and happy and one who loved to laugh. Front row starting at left is my great aunt Ida Belle (PawDad's sister), my Nana who is holding Baby Gail (Ida Belle's daughter), and that cute little guy on the end is my dad at age ten. The back row left to right is my great uncle Stewart (PawDad and Ida Belle's brother), my PawDad, and my Gimpa. Again the nativity is behind them.

This picture was taken when my mom and dad had been married for just six months. Still newlyweds! Left to right, my Nana, Uncle Stewart, Uncle Buck (Ida Belle's husband), my PawDad, Aunt Ida Belle, my dad (seated on the arm of the chair), and my oh-so-serious mom. The little girl in front is one of my dad's cousins, but I'm not sure which one.

Here's the nativity as it looks at Mom and Dad's house in 2008. Dad put the reading lamp in front of it for photo lighting.

Here's Santa's sleigh with the reindeer. Never mind that the reindeer:

a) are of different species and sizes.

b) are 30 times larger than Santa himself.

c) have beady little red eyes.

Obviously Nana used her imagination in combining reindeer and Santa sleigh pieces she came across over the years. It makes me smile just to think about her and the many funny things like that she did over the years.

I'm glad this nativity came to reside with us. Nana died after we'd moved from Virginia to Texas. I was in my early teens. Gimpa and PawDad had both passed on by then, and I never went in that beautiful old house again. I hope the people who live in it now can somehow feel the warmth and love we always felt inside its walls.

Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas, you beautiful old nativity scene!

I Am Second

2008-12-05T14:09:00.005-06:00

Have you seen it?

Have you heard about it?

It's time you did.

"I Am Second."

I've had the immense privilege of being in the audience to hear Josh Hamilton speak. Chris Plekenpol was the key note speaker at a fund raiser I attended last year. Rick Briscoe is the pastor of the church where Studly Man was formerly a member. I have first hand knowledge of how real Stephen Baldwin is because of how he and his wife partnered in ministry with and ministered to friends of ours whose toddler son was dying of cancer. Jason Castro (no relation!) is known in these parts to be a talented young singer from American Idol AND a man who loves God. Tony Evans is one of my all time favorite pastors and teachers, and he is a frequent guest at my church. Rod Bayron has been with our team into juvenile prisons.

They are second.

Are you?

I'm Thankful

2008-11-26T12:46:00.015-06:00

I'm thankful that God loved me SO much He sent His only Son to die in my place. Grace so undeserved.

I'm thankful to live in a country where I'm still free to worship and live my life as a fully devoted follower of Christ, a privilege I don't take for granted and pray will remain.

I'm thankful for godly parents who love the Lord first, then each other, and then their children in ways that have always pointed me toward Jesus. They have sacrificed so often for me and for my sister.

I'm thankful for a loving sister who is an amazing, talented, wonderful Christian woman and friend. I'm thankful for her newfound (found again?) happiness with her husband.I'm thankful for her kids, the two greatest nieces and greatest nephew God ever created. They are joys!

I'm thankful the Lord added to my family by giving me the wonderful gift of my precious Studly Man. He makes my life complete.

I'm thankful for Studly's folks who have embraced me as their own and show love so freely.

I'm thankful for Studly's sister and her precious family who are wonderful examples of sacrificial love. (All four kids are adopted.)

I'm thankful for Studly's brother and his wife who bless us with their kind hearts.

I'm thankful for one very energetic and loyal BigDog and the joy she brings to our home.

I'm thankful for her little brother who makes me smile every day with his sweet cuddles.

I'm thankful the Lord sees fit to use us and that big dog in minstry to bring His love to kids who need to know Him.
I'm thankful for a Bible-believing, Bible-teaching church that is not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, refuses to compromise the Truth, and reaches out to the world with His love.

I'm thankful for an amazing friend who has known all my secrets for 30 years and loves me any way.

I'm thankful for a wise friend who sees the best in me even when I can't.

I'm thankful for a sisterhood of friends who hold me accountable and encourage me to follow Jesus.

I'm thankful for my job and the privilege of working with some awesome ladies.

(no, of course that's not me... just the only picture I could find of a woman working at her desk.)

I'm thankful for all my bloggy friends and their wonderful encouragement in my life.

My prayer for each of you this Thanksgiving is that your heart and home be filled with love and joy as you count your many blessings from above.

Making Thanksgiving Special

2008-11-18T23:36:00.028-06:00

As I mentioned in the previous post, I love making Thanksgiving a special gathering for my family. Any time we have together is precious, but especially so when everyone recognizes and is focused upon just how precious that time is.

I usually employ my printer to make formal invitations and mail them to each household and to family friends who may be joining us for dinner. My family deserves my very best effort, more than any other guests I'll ever host, and I love creating an atmosphere where memories can be made.

Here are some examples of past years' invitations.

This year, I didn't do invitations, but I still wanted to do something special for everyone. Every now and then I surprise myself and actually come up with a craft idea that turns out well (not my strong suit). In doing "something special" this year, I also solved an age-old problem: a way for everyone to keep up with their drinking glass! (I had a side agreement with my dishwasher to try to lighten the workload a little.)

I bought some glass beads and wire loops to make "beverage ID" markers. Then I went on a mission to find a charm that somehow represented each member of the family. Here's what I came up with:

Paw (my dad, the grandkids call him "Paw") - he's been teaching the Word in Sunday School for as long as I can remember, and his wisdom and knowledge have blessed us all.

Meegoo (my mom; Meegoo is what the grandkids call her) - she's the sweet and loving heart of our family, the one whose heart feels our joy, our sorrows, and everything in between.

Leslie (Studly Man) - a) he's lived all over Texas and/or b) he's the man I had to move all the way to Texas from Virginia to find. (I looked for a dog paw charm, but they were sold out.)

Me - I'm the family whale lover. My dream vacation is to go on a whale watching trip.

Joe (my brother-in-law) - he's the band director at a local Christian school and quite a talented saxophone, clarinet and flute player. He's also an excellent arranger and plays in a professional jazz quartet.

Megan (a.k.a. Me-Again, my sister) - she's the choir director at the same Christian school and is also the organist at their church. She's a private voice and piano instructor, and she sings like an angel. She directs the North Central Chapter of the Singing Women of Texas.

Rachel (my eldest niece) - she's our Texas Longhorn. She graduated in May with her bachelor's in biomedical engineering and is currently back at UT in graduate school.

Cammie (my youngest niece) - the child can text message with her eyes closed or while she's explaining the theory of relativity. (She's a music major, following in the footsteps of her talented parents, but there weren't any other music charms!)

Daniel (my nephew) - he's a junior in high school (yes, that same Christian school where his parents teach) and is a talented basketball player. His school colors are green and gold. BTW, he's just recently been thrust into the position of point guard, but he's really an excellent center.

Kei (Rachel's significant other) - he's a scary smart aerospace engineer whose family is from Hong Kong. (Rach, please don't hit me if I got any details wrong!)

Ben (our dear friend and best man in our wedding) - he has the biggest heart for missions I have ever seen. He's a loyal prison ministry dedicate and has recently founded another ministry to feed villagers in Africa and Romania in a most unique way. Check out his web site.

So there you have it. My homemade beverage-ID-charms-with-significance.

Now if I could just get those place cards done... Come back soon to see those.

Stretching Thanksgiving Dinner

2008-11-18T21:26:00.005-06:00

It's hard to believe it's

a: Wednesday again (time for Works for Me Wednesday over at Rocks in My Dryer)

and

b: just a WEEK before Thanksgiving!

I love Thanksgiving. I love all the planning and cooking and setting a beautiful table. It's fun to really go all out for the big day. Use the china! Use the good flatware. Use real glasses. No sense in saving the "nice things" for a special occasion. The family all around the table together? That IS a special occasion! There's no group of people I'd rather host, and no better reason to gather than to give thanks to the Lord for His enumerable blessings in our lives.

My mom and my grandmothers and great-grandmother always put together wonderful Thanksgiving feasts over the years. A lot of work? Indeed, but a labor of love always. Along the way, some shortcuts were discovered. (That is why you came here, isn't it?) Here are two of my favorites.

It should be known that my dad LOVES Thanksgiving dinner. Turkey, dressing, the trimmings. He not only loves it on Thanksgiving Day, but long afterward. But instead of eating turkey dinner every meal for three or four days, my mom figured out how to keep us from getting tired of it AND make her life easier in the busy days that follow Thanksgiving.

Our family tradition for the dressing is a yummy bread and celery variety that my dad's grandmother made. Mom learned how to make it, and it has been a favorite part of the meal for as long as I can remember. Because of its consistency, it is easy to form into patties about the size of a hamburger patty. Instead of a large pan for cooking, the patties are put on cookie sheets and baked. Because they are smaller this way, they cook more evenly. And the best part? They FREEZE easily! Mom will stack two or four patties together, put them in an empty bread bag or container, and freeze them. Then on a busy day when dinner time is looming, she only has to take out as many as are needed for one meal and reheat them.

The second idea is along those same lines. Ya know that amazing gravy made from the giblets? Mom freezes it in ice cube trays. Once frozen, she pops them out of the trays and stores them in Ziploc bags. Then when she needs them, she simply gets out a few frozen "gravy cubes" and thaws them in the microwave. One cube is usually enough for one person, but certainly more can be used if desired.

Turkey meat doesn't freeze well, so a small, fresh (and maybe already cooked) turkey breast from the grocer's deli section will be just the right amount to put with the dressing. Toss a salad or add a vegetable or two, and voila! A wonderful Thanksgiving dinner - again - without all the prep and clean up! This way ALL the food prepared for the big family meal gets eaten, and none is thrown away. It also prevents the I-am-so-sick-of-turkey-and-dressing-I-can't-see-straight feeling that inevitably comes with standing at the refrigerator for the three days following Thanksgiving.

I hope your Thanksgiving is full of love and joy and blessings.

Because Not Everyone Will Be Home For The Holidays

2008-11-15T23:32:00.004-06:00

Melanie over at the Big Mama blog is soliciting help in saying "thank you" and "Merry Christmas" to deployed soldiers' families who are based at Fort Sill, OK. This is a great, easy, inexpensive way to remind them of our deep gratitude for the sacrifices they make daily as their loved ones are in harm's way to protect our freedom and liberty. If you have kids, this can be a great teaching moment and family activity.

Go check it out, and please help us encourage these Army families.

http://thebigmamablog.com/index.php/2008/11/15/because-not-everyone-will-be-home-for-the-holidays/

Refining Fire

2008-11-12T21:18:00.006-06:00

I've learned something new.

Well, really, I've learned something old in a new way. Have you ever noticed the most profound lessons in life often come through painful circumstances or involve people whose integrity you respect(ed)? Have you ever wondered why it is most frequently not a complete stranger who causes pain, but instead someone we know well? And have you noticed that "doing the right thing" isn't easy? Have you noticed that people's intentions towards you are not always good? And have you noticed that when the chips are down, true colors of people begin to show?

In Mark 7, Jesus was speaking to a crowd. He said, "You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to the traditions of men." And he said to them: "You have a fine way of setting aside the commands of God in order to observe your own traditions! For Moses said, 'Honor your father and your mother,' and, 'Anyone who curses his father or mother must be put to death.' But you say that if a man says to his father or mother: 'Whatever help you might otherwise have received from me is Corban' (that is, a gift devoted to God), then you no longer let him do anything for his father or mother. Thus you nullify the word of God by your tradition that you have handed down. And you do many things like that." Again Jesus called the crowd to him and said, "Listen to me, everyone, and understand this. Nothing outside a man can make him 'unclean' by going into him. Rather, it is what comes out of a man that makes him 'unclean.'" After he had left the crowd and entered the house, his disciples asked him about this parable. "Are you so dull?" He asked. "Don't you see that nothing that enters a man from the outside can make him 'unclean'? For it doesn't go into his heart but into his stomach, and then out of his body." He went on: "What comes out of a man is what makes him 'unclean.' For from within, out of men's hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside and make a man 'unclean.' "

Jeremiah 17:9 says, "The heart is more deceitful than all else and is desperately wicked; who can understand it?"

The condition of a man's heart is a subject to which God directs our attention throughout the Scriptures. He knew the battle for pure hearts would be a struggle for all generations. I wonder why it is then that we are so surprised by the wickedness we see in others. In ourselves.

Studly and I learned (again) that God cares far more about our holiness than our happiness.

I'm going to say that again.

God cares more about our holiness than our happiness.

Refining fire.

Painful.

Necessary.

Fruitful.

If you're in the fire today, be strong and take courage. There is a purpose in it. And when that purpose is accomplished, only silver and gold remain.

High School

2008-11-10T20:42:00.003-06:00

Today I received an email meme from a friend. It was all about high school. It got me thinking about things I haven't thought about in a very long time.

Here is part of it:

1. Did you date someone from your school? Yes. Nelson and Keith

2. Did you marry someone from your high school? Nope. I married an Irish-Peruvian boy from the Rio Grande Valley.

3. Did you car pool to School? Not usually. We just lived a few blocks away. Mom generally took me.

4. What kind of car did you have? Mom had a cream colored Malibu Classic that I was occasionally fortunate enough to borrow.

5. It is Friday night then; where are you? In full Planoette uniform in the drill team section of the stands, watching the Cardiac 'Cats charge on to victory. We played in the state championship game my junior year two days before Christmas, but lost to Houston's Stratford High School where a young Craig James was playing his senior season before going on to SMU to team up with Eric Dickerson. They both went on to play in the NFL. If you HAVE to be beaten, at least be beaten by the BEST!

6. It is Friday night now, where are you? At home with Studly Man and our furry four-legged children.

8. What kind of job did you have in high school? Cashier at Pitman Corner Shell. Did my homework in the kiosk most nights while the guys cleaned out the carwash.

9. Were you a party animal? Not really. My friends weren't really the "party crowd."

10. Were you in band, orchestra, or choir? Was in choir my freshman through junior years, but had to give it up senior year.

11. Were you a nerd? Probably. Following in the footsteps of my sister, the valedictorian, grades were a big deal.

12. Did you get suspended or expelled? Nope.

13. Can you sing the school song? Dear Plano High School, Hats off to you. 'Ever you'll find us loyal and true (true, true, true). Firm and undaunted, always we will be, Hail to dear Plano HIGH SCHOOL, we love you! Required to learn that AND sing it at every football and basketball game.

14. Who was your favorite teacher? Mama Mac. (Phyllis McNeill, drill team sponsor) She was one of the last really good teachers who knew that expecting a lot from us and refusing to accept less than our very best would serve us well. She was never afraid to "tell it like it is," even if our feelings might get hurt. Many of the things she taught us still bounce around in my head.

15. Where did you sit during lunch? Either in subschool area C or Taco DeLite

16. When did you graduate? 1980. We were 80 Ladies

17. What was your school mascot? Wildcats. Maroon and white.

18. If you could go back and do it again - what would you do? Realize the people whose approval I desperately wanted are really sad, unfulfilled people in their adult lives. Wouldn't take things so seriously.

19. Did you go to the Prom? Went long enough to have our pictures made and make sure all the "friends" saw us arrive in our chauffeur driven Rolls Royce, which belonged to and was driven by Keith's brother-in-law. Keith couldn't afford to rent a limo like other guys were doing, so his BIL offered to take us in the Rolls. We were the envy of all (and no one knew he hadn't rented it). After that, we went to a fish fry with some of his friends (he and his crowd were three years older).

20. Do you still talk to the person you went to the prom with? Yep. Saw him (and his sweet wife and two children) at his nephew's wedding a few weeks ago. His sister is my best friend of 30 years.

21. Do you still talk to people from your school? Very few. Mostly people who also went to my church then and are friends of the family.

Interesting that life has changed so very much and not very much at all, both at the same time. I'm certainly older and hopefully wiser. I don't take things (people) so seriously now, and I am so secure in who I am and Whose I am.

Just for fun, tell me some of your favorite high school memories or better yet, copy and paste this meme and answer it on YOUR blog!

"Bang Bang" and "Snarl"

2008-11-04T19:56:00.008-06:00

In demonstrating the power of a relationship with a Master to troubled youth, Studly Man uses Shiloh (aka "BigDog") as the "living picture." Along the way, we like to have some fun.

Hands down, the kids' favorite stunt of Shiloh's is "bang bang." They ask for it every time. Sometimes they ask to see it again and again. They also really like to see her snarl so they can get a good look at her big ole teeth. She has a hand signal for that just like she does every other trick she does. Studly knows that keeping Shiloh's performance skills sharp is crucial, so he works with her regularly.

In the process, we started noticing Samson (aka "Little") would emulate what he'd see Shiloh doing. Studly started working to teach Samson "bang bang." See if it makes you laugh like it does us.

Here's Shiloh doing "bang bang" and "snarl":

Now here's Samson doing "bang bang." He anticipates the command and plays dead even before the command because he knows what is in Studly's hand. Note Shiloh on the floor at the foot of the bed. SHE is following commands and she wants. her. treat.

God's sense of humor is evident in these two silly examples of His creation. But we love 'em!

Happy Birthday, sister

2008-10-26T07:00:00.002-05:00

Every girl needs a sister. In fact, if you're a girl and don't have a sister, you can have mine.

I mean that in the nicest way.

I mean that I'll share her with you 'cuz she's pretty special.

Her name is Megan. In the late 1950s, that name was not just uncommon. It was rare. Most people thought my parents were getting in touch with their creative side when they chose that name for their eldest daughter. Today it is more common, although most people pronounce it differently than we do. To us, she is "mee' gan." Which was fun when she called my office once and my coworker came to my office door and said, "Whoever you just spoke to on the phone a minute ago is on line two again." Not having been on the phone for well over an hour, I tilted my head to the side and said, "Huh?" Denise (said coworker) said, "I don't know! She said, 'Hi. It's me again. May I speak with Jennifer please?'" Very confused, I picked up the phone and sheepishly said "hello" only to be greeted by the cheerful voice of my sister.

And I started laughing.

And couldn't stop.

"Me again" was actually, well, you know, "Megan."

I have no idea why that popped into my mind and further why I was compelled to share it, but hey, roll with it. (It did remind me that the pastor of the church where we grew up used to call her "Ma GAN'" every Sunday morning as she would finish playing the offertory.)

Me-Again is a very talented individual. You know, the kind you hate because you wish you could do all those things as well as she does. Except you wouldn't hate Me-Again. She's too cute for that. She sings. Man, you should hear the girl sing. And she plays the piano. Beautifully, I might add. And she's the organist at her church, and she's good at that, too. Oh, and she teaches the choirs and ensembles at the school where she works, right after she's finished instructing sophomores in their requisite World History course.

She's also very smart. So smart, in fact, she doesn't want to know her ACTUAL I.Q. because she's afraid she'll be disappointed in how low it might be. Hello? Valedictorian of her high school with over 1,000 in her class? Check. Summa cum laude graduate from college? Check. Let's just say she's smart. Smarter than me, for sure. And she probably has printed out this post and is sitting at her desk with her red green pen marking my grammatical errors and circling things that aren't complete sentences. (The school where she works doesn't allow teachers to mark papers with red ink as it might cause the students emotional distress. What ev'.) It's a fun game we play. That, and she doesn't see much "blog speak," so she wouldn't necessarily know how totally appropriate this writing style is. (I do have delusions of grandeur, don't I?) (I also like to use parenthetical phrases. Deal.)

She's two and a half years older than me, and in our younger years, that meant I looked up to her. Literally. She was taller than me. Sometimes when we'd fight, she'd place the heel of her hand squarely on my forehead and watch and giggle as I swung at her in vain. My arms were too short to reach her, but I didn't realize that at the time. I just kept trying, hoping I'd get lucky and one day actually hit her.

As I grew older - and taller and stronger and wiser - that began to change. Like the time Dad was traveling on business as he did a fair amount when we were young. Mom (remember her?) always had her hands full with us, especially me. (I was/am the "problem child.") Me-Again and I were sitting in the entry hall playing with our Barbies. (Scandalous! We were allowed to PLAY. WITH. BARBIES.) Mom was busy cleaning when it came time for her to go to the basement and move the laundry from the washer to the dryer. As she'd JUST finished mopping the kitchen floor, she told us to stay off of it while it dried. And then she went down to the basement.

Me-Again (who incidentally is also known as "Gar" in our family - a story for another day) decided she was thirsty. And she wanted milk. (See, it runs in my family.) The problem was two-fold. She had to step on the wet kitchen floor to get to the refrigerator AND she had to get the GLASS PITCHER CONTAINING THE MILK off of a refrigerator shelf that was over.her.head.

CRASH!!

The full GLASS pitcher of milk shattered, and glass and milk covered the freshly mopped floor!

"This will never do," I thought to myself. "Daddy is gone. Mommy is downstairs. WHO will discipline the rebellious Me-Again? WHO?"

Why, Jennster, of course.

Somehow I wrestled her to ground, straddled her bony little body and held her arms to the floor. Now I faced a serious dilemma: hands busy holding her arms down = nothing with which to enact discipline. What's a girl to do? I did the only thing any self-respecting five-year-old would do. I used the only instrument of discipline weapon I had, and I bit her nose. Hard. Until blood came out.

There was much screaming.

Remember those Barbies a few feet away? Well, who knew a Barbie stand could become lethal weapon #672? She raked that thing down my bare back (I had on a halter top). Hard. Until blood came out.

There was much screaming.

Mom, who by this time had flown up the stairs after hearing all the commotion, took one look at us, grabbed her keys and said, "Kill each other. I don't care."

And she left.

In the car.

With us at home.

Alone.

She drove around the block and was home in 2.35 minutes, but it just as easily could have been 2.35 years because during that time? Me-Again and the Jennster had become best friends. For life. Because really? Who wouldn't make an ally of a former enemy when it is just the two of you alone against the world?

All these years later, she's still my very best girlfriend. She "gets me," and even though we don't always see eye to eye, we're always family. She laughs at my jokes, and she cries at my sorrows (which sometimes ARE my jokes). She was my matron of honor and the first person I called after getting engaged to Studly. She's my fellow lover-of-purple and my biggest cheerleader. She's a great mom and a thoughtful daughter. She's a loyal friend and a godly woman.

If you need a sister, you can borrow mine. She's the best.

But you have to give her back.

The Real World - Part Three

2008-10-22T22:10:00.004-05:00

And then he said, "Miss, is it wrong to 'not like' someone you're supposed to love?"

I knew at that moment there was a deep, deep struggle going on inside this young man.

"Ryan, there are several people in my life that have fallen into that category over the years. It's kind of how God feels about us when we mess up. He ALWAYS loves us, but sometimes He doesn't like our behavior. Does that make sense?"

Unable to hold it in any longer, Ryan broke down in quiet sobs. One of his peers reached over to touch his shoulder in a gesture of support, but Ryan batted his arm away.

My heart broke. Grandma's too, perhaps even audibly.

I whispered a prayer and asked the Lord to give us SOMETHING with which to comfort this broken and hurting young man. Words came swiftly and flowed out. I have no idea what I said, but heads were nodding in agreement all around the room. The Lord showed up. He spoke. He gave some measure of comfort to Ryan.

Ryan looked up, his eyes and face red from crying. "I LOVE my dad. I idolize him. But he... he keeps messing up. And I'm just like him. That's why I'm in here. I'm like my mom, too. She's locked up. I'm so angry. I'm just so... A.N.G.R.Y. He can't stop doing drugs, and he makes me buy them for him. I'm afraid he's going to... he told me if it wasn't for me, he'd probably...

kill

himself."

The pain and feared that gripped Ryan's heart finally completely overwhelmed him. Words failed him. I knew there was much more to the story than Ryan had shared. It didn't matter. The pain was etched on his face.

My mind raced. This is outrageous! What kind of human would put that kind of burden on the shoulders of a teenager? What kind of father could profess his love for his son and care so little about his well-being? What kind of mother gives birth to a child and squanders her own life away and leaves the kid alone? Why doesn't someone rescue this child from his own family?

But I already knew the answer. They're people who are without Jesus.

"Ryan, I'm SO sorry you've had to go through this," I said after a long moment. "I wish I could wave a magic wand and make it all go away. I can't. But I do know of a miraculous salve for your wounded heart." As I talked about Jesus' complete and perfect and peace-filled love for him, tears slipped down his cheeks.

Grandma shared the plan of salvation in a simple yet powerful way. The same friend reached over to touch his shoulder, and this time, Ryan allowed it. His countenance softened. His tears no longer spilled over. He listened intently. So did his peers.

Just then, the day room door opened, and Allen, our resident "Gospel illusionist" walked in. Allen's dad was like Ryan's. Allen became a dad like Ryan's. He was the perfect person to minister to Ryan at that moment. He related to him in a way Grandma and I never could. We sat in awe of God's timing and provision as we listened to Allen share his heart with Ryan and the other boys in the room. He laid out the plan of salvation again. And he led them in the sweetest prayer.

God showed up.

In a big way.

People, young people, are hurting so desperately and so deeply. The best and only thing we have to offer them is Jesus. But He IS the best and only One Who can save them.

Do you know a Ryan? Have you introduced him (her) to Jesus?

He'll show up.

In a big way.

The Real World - Part Two

2008-10-18T20:26:00.004-05:00

Edited to add: I really didn't MEAN to frustrate y'all and leave you hanging with the last post. It was pretty long as it was, and I was struggling with the subject matter. There is probably going to be a Part Three. Just warnin' ya. The story is long... * Begging your forgiveness. *

"Ma'am, I'm a convicted felon. Would you hire me?"

And I said, "Perhaps. Let's talk about that. First and foremost, I'd want to know you have the training, experience, expertise, skill set and/or knowledge needed for the job I'm offering. I'd want to see your employment history and whether or not you've been a "job hopper." Then there would be other things to consider like your credit history if you're going to be handling money for my company."

From the peanut gallery: "What does somebody's credit history have to do with it?"

"Well, let's say the position requires making the daily bank deposit, and I discover from your credit history that you are deeply in debt and are about to lose your home, your car, and other assets. Wouldn't you be a higher risk for stealing from me than another applicant who is current on their bills and is perhaps debt free?"

Heads nodded. One boy said, "I never would have thought of that."

"And back to your original question... 'would I hire a convicted felon.' I'd want to see that there is some time and distance from your crime and evidence that you've turned your life around or are at least trying. We all make mistakes, but we all have an opportunity to learn from those mistakes and make better choices in the future. If there is evidence of good and wise choices being made by you, I'm more inclined to consider you for a position. However, if your felony involved theft, I'd have to think twice before hiring you to handle money. If your felony was a sex crime, I couldn't hire you to work in a day care center where children are present. If your crime was drug related, I'd have to really consider the wisdom in hiring you as a pharmacy tech. Look, recovering alcoholics shouldn't hang out in bars. Recovering thiefs shouldn't be tempted with handling someone else's cash. Recovering drug addicts/dealers shouldn't be around drugs. Common sense, people. Common sense."

Interesting aside: juvenile criminal records are sealed, and I wouldn't be able to discover if one existed. That isn't the point of the discussion. These kids are in the middle of a detour from criminal behavior and need hope. They need to think about making better choices and learn that as a life skill.

The young man who had asked the question said, "So you'd be willing to hire me - a convicted felon - if my crime wasn't related to the type of work and if I could prove I had my life together? That's what you're saying?"

"Yes, that's what I'm saying."

Stunned silence hung over the room. These boys have been told their entire lives they'll never amount to anything, they're destined to be in and out of prison for the rest of their lives, and the world will be against them. They'd just heard they have a chance. Having gotten their attention, I knew the time was right to dive into the deep subjects. Yes, there are deeper subjects, some of which I won't write about here.

Ryan, a 14-year-old blue-eyed blonde, raised his hand. "Miss, I have an anger problem. I don't think I'll be able to keep a job. I'll probably get fired for blowing up at someone." As a group we talked about anger and its perils. We discussed God's awareness of our anger since He created us. We talked about Jesus' anger at the money changers in His Father's house. We talked about how difficult it is to avoid anger when someone is unfair or acts against us. We talked about how we behave when we're angry. And we talked about Ephesians 4, and specifically verse 26.

"Do not sin in your anger. Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry."

Ryan raised his hand again. "My dad is real angry. He's got a bad temper. He... well, he... he does things that aren't good."

"And that makes YOU angry, doesn't it?" I asked. He nodded.

And then he said, "Miss, is it wrong to 'not like' someone you're supposed to love?"

I knew at that moment there was a deep, deep struggle going on inside this young man.

Part Three coming soon. I'm going to get a Kleenex now as I think about Ryan...

The Real World - Part One

2008-10-16T18:51:00.007-05:00

satan doesn't like it when we get busy working for God's kingdom. (He also doesn't deserve to have his name capitalized.) This past weekend was no exception. Our normally adequate-sized prison ministry team was plucked apart, one by one. While many of our dedicates were there (including "Grandma," the 81-year-old who couldn't go last time because she was recovering from a broken pelvis -not a broken hip as previously reported), many were kept away.

No problem.

God showed up.

When Grandma and I walked into one of the "long term" cell blocks, the TV was on, tuned in for the local news. That surprised me. I've been in this prison 50 times and never, ever has there been a TV on where the kids could see it. Sure, they have movie night once in while if they're well behaved, but the local news? Never.

As the guard guard turned off the TV, he instructed the 11 boys to be seated around the hard-steel-bolted-to-the-floor tables with hard-steel-bolted-to-the-table seats attached. They complied. Always looking for the ice breaker, I asked them if they'd been watching news about our upcoming election. They had. I asked if they understood what is at stake. Some did. I asked if they realized history is about to made, one way or the other. They did.

Feeling led by the Spirit, I asked the guys to think about what they'd studied in history regarding the founding of this great country, why the early settlers left England and what they hoped to build here in the New World. They were quiet.

Until...

I asked them to name things that have contributed to the declining state we find ourselves in today.

"The war!"

"George Bush!"

"Bill Clinton!"

"Democrats!"

"Republicans!"

"Greed!"

"Corruption!"

"Families falling apart!"

"Murder!"

"Crime!"

The shouts came from all over the room. They continued to list those things they feel have contributed to where we find ourselves today. I nodded occasionally in agreement.

And then it was quiet.

One young man sitting at the back said, "Miss, what do YOU think got us here?"

I smiled. I glanced over at Grandma.

She winked at me and said, "I know. Can I answer?"

I nodded.

She said, "We are a nation who has gotten away from God. We've turned our backs on Him. We've done whatever we've wanted, whenever we've wanted, and we don't care who we've hurt... including Him."

I nodded again as I looked at the sea of sad and downtrodden faces and watched as the wheels turned in their young minds. An almost eerie quiet fell over the room as they thought about what Grandma had said. Finally one young man had a question.

"Well, if we're so bad - we're the worst of the worst in here - WHY are you HERE?"

"I'm glad you asked," I said. "We're here because we need to make sure that you know how much God loves you. We need to make sure you know how much WE love you."

Most of these kids have rarely - if ever - heard from any adult that they are loved. Their eyes searched for more... more details, an explanation, a punchline to what must surely be a joke. Grandma and I spent the next while sharing God's Word with these boys and telling many of them for the first time that God has a plan for their lives. And it's a GOOD plan full of hope and a bright future and not the calamity they have known previously. We talked about finishing high school or taking the GED and going to college or finding a trade. We talked about surrounding ourselves with God's people who love Him above all else and encourage us to do the same. We talked about disassociating ourselves from those who seek their own way and those who don't acknowledge God's principles for living.

We talked about being careful when choosing our friends and how their influence can lead us down wrong paths. We talked about not doing things that "everybody else is doing." We even talked about MySpace and Facebook and how those "social networking sites" telegraph all kinds of information to the world about who we REALLY are. I shared with them about two potential candidates who recently submitted resumes to me for an open position in my office and how the information on their MySpace and/or Facebook pages prevents them from ever having an interview with me.

That was just an aside, but it sparked some lively discussion! Most of them had never considered the possibility that future employers would see those "funny" pictures of them passed out drunk or the foul language they use or the violent music they choose for their page. Most of them were shocked that an old lady like me even knows what MySpace and Facebook even are.

One young man said, "Ma'am, I'm a convicted felon. Would you hire me?"

And I said...

(Stay tuned for Part Two)

Half written post

2008-10-15T16:47:00.002-05:00

There's a post half written about our experience in the juvenile prison on Saturday. It was a tough day, and I'm having a hard time finishing the post. But I will. I promise! Check back for the update.

Thanks for your prayers for the kids. They are hurting so much, and they need a Saviour...

Dow Jones Falls; I Won't Panic

2008-10-09T15:42:00.001-05:00

Breaking News: The Dow Jones industrial average lost 679 points, after hitting its lowest point since May 27, 2003 during the session.

I'm not afraid. The Word of God says in Philippians 4:19:

"And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus."

Works for Me Wednesday: Miracle in a Tube

2008-10-07T22:49:00.004-05:00

I love Wednesdays. Well, not really. Wednesdays are hard days in our office, so I don't TOTALLY love Wednesdays. But I do love me some "Works-for-Me Wednesday" ideas over at Rocks in My Dryer.

There are few things I can't live without, but here is one:

Aquaphor is THE best invention EVA'! It has the look and feel of Vaseline, but it is way better. I use it for everything. I never leave home without it!

I put it on my lips every night before I go to bed or on those rare "no make-up" Saturdays. I use it as lotion when my hands are really dry. I use it as a "night cream" by putting a little dab under each eye at bedtime. It helps keep that fragile skin supple and less-wrinkly. Concealer goes on better, too. It's great on skin abrasions and helps them heal more quickly. I even used it in place of Preparation H once! Aquaphor is also used in treatment of skin following laser resurfacing.

It is inexpensive, lasts forever, and comes in small purse-sized tubes or big ole tubs. There is a "baby formula" made for diaper rash and chafed skin, but as far as I can tell, the ingredients are the same.

Simply put, Aquaphor is a miracle in a tube, and it works for me!

Happy Birthday, Daniel

2008-10-06T14:15:00.004-05:00

This little guy? He turns 17 today! He's funny and sweet and scary-smart. He loves the Lord and is a leader among his peers. He's very loving and is the joy of his family. We're SO proud of him!

Hope your day is AWESOME, RedHeadDanMan. We love you!

Aunt Jenn & Uncle Studly

Dave Ramsey on the Financial Crisis

2008-10-01T11:44:00.003-05:00

I'm a big fan of Dave Ramsey. "Debt is dumb, cash is king, and the paid-off home mortgage has replaced the BMW as the status symbol of choice." His financial principles have root in Scripture, and they work. "The borrower is slave to the lender." Proverbs 22:7 "Owe nothing to anyone except to love one another." Romans 13:8b.

Below is what he has been talking about on the radio and on TV over the last week or so. He makes sense!

Over the past month, we’ve witnessed the largest bankruptcy in history, the stock market dropping like a rock, and the talking heads on TV freaking out that the world is coming to an end. I’m here to tell you the truth—we’re going to make it. We’re going to be fine. Take a chill pill.
This month I’ve compiled some of the most-asked questions I’ve gotten recently from you:

Are we okay, Dave?
Definitely. Remember Enron and WorldCom in the recent years? We survived that. But much worse than all this was the financial crisis of the ‘80s – S&L collapse and 1,000 bank failures in 2 years. We’re nowhere near this type of thing; that was probably 50 to 100 times worse than all of this.

What does all of this come back to?
Greedy banks financing homes to broke people. It all seemed to work okay in their minds when the economy was booming, but when the economy slowed a little bit broke people quit paying on their subprime mortgages. DUH. No wonder they went out of business. Stupid decisions.

Is there anything we can do to fix this bailout mess?
YES! Here's a quick summary: Companies that had billions in subprime loans were feeling the effects of their stupid decision to make those loans in the first place, and practically gave them away for pennies on the dollar. But since no one wants these loans, and they've had to mark them down to market value, it has frozen the market. If we temporarily change the rule that forces companies to do that, that will free the market up.

This is an absolutely huge deal, and it involves everyone getting in touch with their congressperson before we spend hundreds of billions of dollars that we don't need to! Learn more

Will the collapse of businesses and banks affect me?
No, not unless you work there. Thousands of stock brokers on Wall Street have lost their jobs in the past few weeks, but that happens in other industries across the country in good and bad times. This time it just happened in NYC where all the national news media is so they made a big deal of it.

If I have 401(k) money in a Merrill Lynch or AIG trading account, should I move the money elsewhere?
No. Your money isn’t with them; your 401(k) money is in the stocks. These big companies are just managers (unless you directly own stock in their company). The only thing that may be an issue is if they crash later, you may have some customer service issues, but your money is still safe. This is a good reminder to not have all of your money in one stock—that’s stupid. Always spread out your money in various growth stock mutual funds.

With these acquisitions, will my 401(k) account and entire portfolio with Merrill Lynch be lost?
No. They just own the company Merrill Lynch. Look at it this way—if I owned 6 rental properties and hired a management company that eventually failed, I would still own the properties; I just wouldn’t have a manager. Your broker doesn’t have title to your stuff. Your 401(k) is not a company asset; that’s the beauty of it.

Should I sell my US stocks to buy gold and foreign stocks?
Absolutely not! Why would you think foreign stocks are any better than US stocks? Again, diversify your money in good growth stock mutual funds instead.

What practical lessons should small business owners learn from these bank difficulties?
When you have no cash, you freakin’ go broke. You must keep some cash on hand, no matter what kind of business you have. Give yourself some wiggle room where you can take a hit and still be standing.

Remain calm, America. We’re in a slow time, but just pay your bills and you’re going to be fine.

Related:
Contact your congressperson
More from Dave about the economy
Discuss this and more with other Dave Ramsey fans

Happy Birthday, Meegoo!!

2008-09-24T22:30:00.005-05:00

Yesterday was my mother's birthday. I typed out a post in her honor, and Blogger ate it. (Blogger's been a little wonky lately.) So I'm trying again, albeit a day late and a dollar short.

My mom, who is also known as "Aint Fay" to her very Southern nieces and nephews, "Meegoo" to her grandchildren and one of her sons-in-love, "Mom" to two daughters - although they occasionally resort to "MOTHER!!" when necessary, and "Honey" to her loving husband, is likely the sweetest woman God ever created. If I wrote for days, I couldn't write about all the ways she sacrificed for us when we were growing up or the countless ways she showed love to us and those around her. She earned her nicknames of "that-woman-who-likes-to-feed-us" and "Flaky" and even "Flo," but those are stories for another day. More than anything, she is an example of godliness to all who know her.

Proverbs 31 describes her like this (with my commentary added in blue):

An excellent wife, who can find? (I've heard Dad say all my life what a great wife she is.) For her worth is far above jewels. (She's irreplaceable.) The heart of her husband trusts in her, (she's always been trustworthy) and he will have no lack of gain. She does him good and not evil all the days of her life. (That's been evident for their 55+ years of marriage.) She looks for wool and flax and works with her hands in delight. (She is creative and built a beautiful home.) She is like merchant ships; she brings her food from afar. (She found resources no one else would have considered.) She rises also while it is still night and gives food to her household and portions to her maidens. (She's an excellent cook and still loves making a favorite meal for each family member's birthday.) She considers a field and buys it; from her earnings she plants a vineyard. (She knew the value of her home and worked hard to ensure its growth.) She girds herself with strength and makes her arms strong. (She worked hard to make our house a home and strong, safe haven for the storms of life.) She senses that her gain is good; her lamp does not go out at night. (She's burned the midnight oil on many occasions to help her children reach their goals, including the times we didn't make it easy for her [i.e., my third grade year and all of my teens].) She stretches out her hands to the distaff, and her hands grasp the spindle. (She never shied away from hard work.) She extends her hand to the poor, and she stretches out her hands to the needy. (She often took meals in to the sick - still does - and helped whenever she could.) She is not afraid of the snow for her household, for all her household are clothed with scarlet. (Our needs were always met before her own.) She makes coverings for herself; her clothing is fine linen and purple. (She made all of our clothes when we were growing up and most of her own. She even made the PURPLE bridesmaids' dresses for my wedding.) Her husband is known in the gates, when he sits among the elders of the land. (She is the "woman-behind-the-man" and is always so proud of her husband.) She makes linen garments and sells {them,} and supplies belts to the tradesmen. (She is an excellent seamstress.) Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she smiles at the future. (She is a beautifully poised woman whose strength of character has been the backbone of her family.) She opens her mouth in wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. (Her godly counsel is highly sought after by her family and friends.) She looks well to the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness. (She has earned her retirement.) Her children rise up and bless her. (Yes, they do.) Her husband {also,} and he praises her, {saying:} "Many daughters have done nobly, but you excel them all." (He is proud of her and sings her praises openly.) Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain, {But} a woman who fears the LORD, she shall be praised. (A more genuine, loving, God-fearing woman you will not find.)

It is an honor to be her daughter.

Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.

Two Years?

2008-09-22T01:00:00.000-05:00

I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that little Samson is two years old today. Two years! Where did the time go?

This picture was taken when he was two DAYS old. The breeder is holding him up a bit. Look how tiny Samson is compared to Pat's fingers!He's five days old here. This was the first time I ever held him. I didn't want to let him go!

Here, he's about four weeks old. Look at that face!

He's about nine weeks old here. Here he is at four months. And at six months. This is one of my favorite pictures of him. He's such a hoot, and Studly and I have had a blast watching him grow, befriend ShilohBigDog, and generally entertain us.

Happy birthday, Sam-a-lam-a-ding-dong!

Six Random Things

2008-09-18T16:42:00.018-05:00

(Fortunately, Blogger resurrected my post from last night. Otherwise, I'd still sulking.)

My friend, Kim, over at Seasons of My Heart tagged me in her meme. It's called Six Random Things, and I'm supposed to tell you... well, six random things about myself that you may or may not know.

SOOooooo....

1. My favorite beverage of all time is milk. I love me some milk. I'm not very happy if the refrigerator at Casa de Castro is sans milk. I've been known to cry on the rare occasion my refrigerator IS without milk. I've even driven to the store after midnight to get milk. Must.Have.Milk.

2. My very first job was as a cashier at a local WhatABurger. My boss was the spitting image of Richard Nixon. He was a strange man named George. He did, however, teach me the proper way to make change without relying on the computerized cash register to do it for me. More importantly, he taught me how to count the change back to the customer starting with PUTTING THE COINS IN THE PALM OF THE CUSTOMER'S HAND FIRST and then placing the bills on top so the coins wouldn't go slidin' off to kingdom come. Now, thanks to George, I am keenly aware of most teenagers' inability to a) properly make change without the aid of a computer; b) properly count back the change to the customer; and c) properly place it in.my.hand.

3. A few years ago, Studly Man and I were attendants in the wedding of some dear friends. The best man in that wedding? None other than Zig Ziglar himself. He is a hoot and a genuinely nice person. Some other friends of ours have a son who was being awarded the rank of Eagle Scout. They asked Zig, never having met him, to speak at the Court of Honor. And ya know what? He showed up. And he spoke. He's an Eagle, too. So now when I see Zig and "The Redhead" (his wife, Jean) at church, he smiles and says "see you at the top!" Wow. Somebody I know is actually on Wikipedia AND Amazon.com. My personal brush with greatness.

4. I am fascinated by whales. They are so beautiful and graceful and M.A.S.S.I.V.E. My sister and I went to SeaWorld one summer about ten years ago on a "sisterin' trip," and I think the most excited person in the entire Shamu exhibit was, um, me. I squealed and giggled like a little a girl when I got splashed and drenched with sea water by Shamu's giant fluke. My sister pretended not to know me. I've spent hours and hours watching the Shamu-Cam online. I even "adopted" a humpback whale once and proudly displayed his/her 8" x 10" "photograph" in a lovely frame on the wall in my office. I love orcas also, but there weren't any available for adoption that day.

5. My ultimate dream trip would be to go on a whale-watching cruise to Alaska and/or Hawaii. See #4. Swimming with the dolphins would be amazing, too.

6. I have a duplicated collecting system. That's all I have to say about that.

And there you have it. Six random things about me.

Now I get to tag some of my friends to tell us six random things. And the lucky winners are:

DidiLyn at Meyers on the Hood
Suzanne at Lily of the Valley
Paula at His Ways... are not our ways
Sheryl at The Perch

Splendor in My Windowsill

2008-09-17T19:11:00.000-05:00

Studly Man. Perhaps you remember him. He's the cute guy who lives here at Casa de Castro.

Turns out that in addition to being cute, he also has a green thumb.

Which he inherited from his father.

Look what Studly grew in my kitchen window.

Hanging in the window behind the orchids is the beautiful art glass angel Studly's sister made for me.

Behind the angel and out in the yard is the late re-bloom of a crape myrtle tree. The colors! (These pictures cannot do them justice.)

"...Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." Matthew 6:28-29

Works For Me Wednesday - Guest's Hospitality Basket

2008-09-16T21:59:00.004-05:00

It's that time again... Works For Me Wednesday over at Rocks in My Dryer.

All of my husband's family lives out-of-town. When they come to visit, they usually remember to bring all the little things they'll need, but every now and again, something gets left behind.

For just such an occasion, I keep a little basket in the guest bath loaded with various things they may need: toothpaste, toothbrush, mouthwash, dental floss, deodorant, shampoo, shower cap, shower gel or soap, lotion, baby powder, shaving cream, disposable razors, etc. These are all things I pick up during a hotel stay, a visit to my dentist, or in the trial size section at the drug store. My cost is very minimal, but the pay-off is huge! My guests are so appreciative, and there is rarely a need for a trip to the store for that forgotten item.

Additional hint: Since I am a migraine patient and sensitive to many scents and fragrances, I go for unscented items when possible. That helps me, of course, but I find my guests are pleased when a product they've "borrowed" from my basket doesn't compete with his/her perfume or cologne.

Remembering...

2008-09-11T12:33:00.002-05:00

Please click on the link below for a powerful video.

http://www.rememberingseptember11.com/Heroes/email.htm

Overheard...

2008-09-10T19:41:00.002-05:00

... in a BBQ restaurant where I had dinner with my folks tonight:

Patron: "I'll have the sausage plate, please."

Server: "You want that with or without lipstick?"

Great Online Bible Study Tool

2008-09-09T14:35:00.005-05:00

It's hump day, and that means it's time for Works For Me Wednesday over at Rocks in My Dryer.

Lotsa folks use BibleGateway.com for online Bible study assistance. It is a great program that has cool features including some versions in audio format.

However, my FAVORITE online Bible study spot is Crosswalk.com. What makes this site unique is how it incorporates the Strong's Exhaustive Concordance references INTO several of the versions, and it is FREE! Other web sites charge for downloadable versions that include Strong's.

If you've ever done a Precept Upon Precept Bible study by Kay Arthur, you'll know she always teaches from the New American Standard version. Now when I need to do a word study in the original language (Greek, Hebrew or Aramaic), I go to Crosswalk.com, then to Resources (towards the bottom left), and then Bible Study Tools. Under the Classic Bible Study Tools, the second option is Online Study Bible, and various options are available. I usually choose "NAS with Strong's Numbers," and then I have all of my study materials right there on the screen. No more big books to clutter my desk or table top!

Crosswalk.com also has great commentaries, dictionaries, maps, concordances, parallel Bibles, encyclopedias, and lexicons. It is simply "one stop shopping" for all your Bible study needs!

Here's a link to the online Bible study page.

Wow. Just wow.

2008-09-07T14:02:00.001-05:00

Exhausted

2008-09-06T10:03:00.000-05:00

Long post written.

Long post deleted.

We're outta here.

September 1, A Memorable Day...

2008-08-29T13:29:00.005-05:00

It was Labor Day weekend on the edge of a warm Texas summer. The year was 2001.

He wanted to go shopping. She wanted to be anywhere he was.

He wanted to "see the latest trends" in menswear at Neiman Marcus. She feared he'd spend too much.

He wanted to meander around the pretentious North Dallas mall. She wanted to be anywhere he was.

He wanted to get an idea of the fall trends and then purchase elsewhere. She sighed with relief at his fiscal sensibilities.

He wanted to invite another friend to join them for dinner. She wanted to be anywhere he was.

He suggested dinner at Houston's, her favorite and a place they frequented together. Saturday night at Houston's certainly meant a wait. She didn't mind; the more time with him, the better. She secretly hoped their friend would not arrive. He knew he wouldn't.

At about 8:15, a quiet booth fortuitously opened in the bar, and they slipped into it. Over a plate of delicious guacamole salad accompanied by a wonderful pinot grigio, they talked of the significance of an upcoming date, October 6. She reminded him that not only would it include the blessing of the ministry's annual fund raiser, but it was also the anniversary of their first kiss!

He said, "Well, how'd I do?"

She smiled and said, "VERY well."

He said, "We've sure learned a lot about each other over the past year and that only leaves one question. Will you marry me? You don't have to answer right away. You can think about it."

"Do I HAVE to think about it? YES!!!!!!!!!!" she exclaimed.

After a sweet, celebratory kiss, they enjoyed dinner and discussed with excitement the plans for their future.

After leaving Houston's, he drove her to Celestial Park. In the center of the enormous sundial, the acoustics change in an amazing way as to drown out all other sound. He led her there, and under the starry sky, he sweetly whispered "I love you" in her ear, the only thing she could hear. Her heart melted... again.

As he drove her home that night, her heart was so full. She thanked the Lord for answering her prayers and bringing this precious man into her life to be her beloved forever.

I love you, Studly Man.

Ahhh.... September.

Dear Samson...

2008-08-28T10:50:00.004-05:00

(Edited to add more at the bottom.)

I promise to never, EVER do this to you:
Or this:

You'll also never have one of these mink (yes, mink) day beds, 'cuz Momma ain't got $650.

And you can't have this 'cuz Momma doesn't have $1,400 either.
You lucked out on the hair thing. Deal with the bed thing.

Love, Mom

Works For Me Wednesday - Greatest Hangers EVER!

2008-08-26T22:49:00.015-05:00

After a little summer vacation for WFMW, Shannon over at RocksInMyDryer is back at it with the new school year's first Works For Me Wednesday. Yay! I always love seeing the neat tips and ideas other bloggers post, some of which I've adopted immediately.

So without further ado (okay, well, maybe just a LITTLE ado), here's my WFMW tip.

About six months ago I stumbled upon the niftiest hangers I've ever seen. They're called Smart Dry Sweater and Pant Hangers and are made by Tide, the laundry detergent folks, so I was intrigued. 'Cuz who knows laundry better than Tide? They come in pairs and are packaged like this:

What's so great about them, you ask?

I have lots of sweaters and tops that require handwashsing and then being laid flat to dry. Sometimes I run out of room to spread things out, so I've cheated a time or two and hung a few pieces up. We all know what happens when you use a regular hanger to dry something that has been handwashed or even washed on the gentle cycle of the washing machine. The garment ends up with those funny little pooches where the fabric stretched over the hanger. These hangers keep your clothes crease and pooch free. I promise!

The design of the hanger includes extra wide shoulder "bars" to prevent your sweaters and shirts from puckering and loosing their shape. They also dry your clothes quicker because the hanger is perforated to allow more airflow through the garment. The center section works great for pants and leaves them crease free every time. I've tried them with polo shirts, golf shirt, sweaters, jeans, khackis, and even T-shirts with iron-on transfers that will melt in the dryer. They work so well, I went back and bought several more. Especially during the summer time, I'll use the plant hooks on my patio to suspend the hangers. Clothes dry REALLY fast outside in the Texas heat!

Here are a few pictures that show the detail. There's a quarter next to it for scale.

You can see how wide the ends of the hanger are, and they're gently curved so they won't leave pooches in the sleeves of the garment.

See how wide that center bar is? The sides of the pant section are also gently rounded, so no more creases!

LOVE these! They run around $3.99 for two hangers and can be found at Target or Walmart on the laundry accessories aisle, not the detergent aisle.

Get some!! They work for me!

How to Bathe a Little Dog

2008-08-24T22:26:00.018-05:00

Step 1: Get a big sink.

Step 2: Set out all the necessary paraphernalia...

... including tearless puppy shampoo

... the most amazing dog treats EVER

... and the tiny syringe used to moisten the icky stuff in the corners of his eyes.

Step 3: Find crusty little dog, likely seeking refuge in Daddy's lap.

Step 4: Proceed with submersion of CrustyLittleDog into big sink now filled with water. Wash behind his ears...

... and under his chin

... and don't forget his beard.

Step 5: Remind mad little dog that Mama loves him.

Step 6: Find a strong Daddy to dry him off and fight off the evil Mommy.

Step 7: Laugh at the formerly crusty pup as he roots around to arrange his 'do.

Step 8: Kiss the cutest little face you ever did see.

The Harvest

2008-08-22T20:14:00.013-05:00

I like to blog about funny things. Things like this or this.

Oh, how I wish this post could be fun and lighthearted. It isn't. It can't be.

Studly and I have been blessed beyond measure with the privilege of working with at risk and troubled youth. We've seen the hand of God at work in the lives of these precious kids who just need to be loved and shown the Truth. We've had a front row seat to witness miracles. We've rejoiced when lost kids have come to Christ.

Today, we weep.

Several months ago Studly and I led a team into the county juvenile detention center where we minister most frequently. In our team's briefing that morning, the superintendent mentioned one young girl who had been giving the staff absolute fits. They were perplexed. They were tired. They were out of ideas. This young girl came to them in desperate need. And now they were in desperate need, too. She was taxing their resources in ways they'd never imagined.

Taylor was on "suicide watch," which meant her clothing (and I use that term loosely) was different from the other girls in her pod. She was a wearing a "suicide gown" similar to this one, only shorter. It is very heavy and can't be fashioned into a noose, and no part of it can be turned into a weapon. In other words, she can't hurt herself. Since it fastens with Velcro, it is easy to just rip off at any moment. And she did. Frequently. Running around naked inside a jail where EVERYTHING is on camera? Bad idea.

She tore up a Bible. No one knows why. Then she asked for another one. Denied.

She engaged in some other activities as well, but I won't detail them here.

The guards were at wit's end trying to deal with her. And then they decided they'd try one last thing. They moved her from the "long term" pod to the "short term" pod.

It was as if the old Taylor had disappeared, and a new person appeared in her place. She was cooperative and kind and sweet. There was a light in her eyes again. She was wholly appropriate in her actions and words. She didn't cause any trouble at all.

Two days later, our team showed up to minister in the unit. We were informed of the events so we would understand what we were walking into. She was delightful. She laughed and giggled like any 15-year-old girl. She sat with her peers and listened intently to what we had to say. She asked intelligent questions, and she even thanked us for coming.

Later in the morning, two of our precious - and seasoned - volunteers moved off to the side in order to share with Taylor in a more personal way. Bobbie and Brenda laid out the plan of salvation and asked Taylor if she had ever given her heart to Jesus. She told them she had. They talked with her about reading the Bible and asked her if she had one, knowing from our earlier briefing that she didn't. She told them she was "on restriction" because she had destroyed a Bible, but she wanted another one. Bobbie and Brenda assured her they'd do everything they could to get her another one. And several days later, they did just that.

Eventually Taylor was released from custody and returned home.

Studly Man learned from the superintendent of the prison that earlier this week Taylor took a hunting rifle and shot herself. She did not survive.

She was 15.

Fifteen.

She should have had the world by the tail and been full of excitement and anticipation of what the future would bring. She should've been thinking about getting her driver's license and the first day of the new school year. She should've had her iPod playing her favorites songs while she texted her best friend. She should've known how deeply her parents love her. She should've been secure in the knowledge that God's plan for her life was full of good and NOT evil.

Seeing the people, He felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dispirited like sheep without a shepherd. Then He said to His disciples, "The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Therefore beseech the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into His harvest." Matthew 9:36-38

Taylor heard the truth. We told her the truth. We believe she knew Jesus. But what if we hadn't gone?

They're out there. They're everywhere. They're right next to you... people who need to be harvested for the Lord. People you know. People who may never see any other representation of Jesus than what they see in you.

The timing is critical. We MUST get to the harvest. A storm is coming...

Milk and Swimming

2008-08-18T19:51:00.004-05:00

Studly and I went to our local ice cream and dairy store on Saturday night to get some milk. (Anyone who knows me knows I'm not a happy girl if the milk inventory in the house gets low.) Mike, a young checker at the store whom we see frequently, asked if we didn't want to go over to the other counter and get some ice cream. We told him our plan was to hurry home to watch Michael Phelps go for his eighth gold medal of the Beijing Olympics.

He stared in stunned silence.

Wondering if he'd been living under a rock for the last nine days, I said, "Michael Phelps... the swimmer?"

MikeTheChecker furrowed his brow and shook his head in disapproval.

"You're not gonna watch the Cowboys play?"

Me: "Nah. They'll still be around in a few weeks and even in a few years. We wanna watch Phelps do something no person in history has ever done."

MikeTheChecker: (silence)

Me: "Even though we're watching in time delay, it will be cool to watch history being made."

Studly: "Yeah. Nobody's EVER won eight gold medals in one Olympics before."

MikeTheChecker: (silence)

Me: (silence)

Studly: (silence)

MikeTheChecker: (more silence)

Me (hating the awkwardness of the moment): "But I do want to check in and see how Tony's looking this year. We could flip channels back and forth and..." my voice trailed off as I looked at Studly for approval.

MikeTheChecker: (silence)

Me: "Hopefully they'll be playoff contenders this season."

MikeTheChecker: (silence)

Studly: "Well, have a great night."

MikeTheChecker: (silence)

We left.

MikeTheChecker a) doesn't have a TV; b) has never seen a swimming pool; c) is completely un-American; d) REALLY loves his Cowboys; e) really does live under a rock.

You be the judge.

I'm Going for the Gold

2008-08-14T09:26:00.003-05:00

... in coughing.

I have an EXCELLENT chance of winning.

I've been training rigorously for weeks now, and everyone around me is convinced I'll win. Short of a lung flying out of my chest, there shouldn't be a problem. I've got this down pat. I'm GOOD at it.

My family has bought up all available stock in these.

My boss ordered one of these.

My husband just purchased these.

Bob Costas and Matt Lauer have contacted my agent to schedule an interview.

Stayed tuned for the most exciting Olympic event E.V.E.R. I'll make America proud.

The Body of Christ... in Prison

2008-08-12T10:21:00.004-05:00

Ever wondered if God can use you?

On Saturday, Studly and I will be leading a team into the juvenile prison about 20 miles north of here. It fascinates me to consider the individuals who make up our team. They're of all shapes and sizes, colors and creeds, backgrounds and industries. Of course each event has a slightly different make up of teammates depending on who is able to go each time. It is always fun to see who God brings together.

On Saturday, our team will include:

a single, working grandmother of four and mother of eight
a tax accountant
an electrician
a 30-year-old personal trainer and his wife who are the proud new parents of a 10-month-old daughter
a career air force pilot who now works in the financial industry
an out-of-work mortgage broker who is currently going through a family crisis
a mechanic who has only a third grade education
a former "1%-er" outlaw motorcycle gang member who was diagnosed with liver cancer last week
a federal agent who is elbow-deep in preparation for the trial of corrupt government officials
a 36-year-old single elementary school teacher who will drive over three hours one way to join us. She usually brings her 81-year-old grandmother who is a mighty woman of God, but Grandma recently broke her hip in three places and can't make it this time.
a couple in their 70s whose son spent years in and out of prison and recently died from a drug overdose
a 26-year-old US Navy recruiter
a commercial aircraft mechanic
a graphic artist and print shop manager

Studly makes a fine leader and head of ministry, but his bullet point on that list would say:

a 54-year-old entrepreneur who allowed God to use his broken heart and his dog to tell others about Jesus.

And then there's me... a scared, broken little girl whose paralyzing panic attacks are incongruent with flourishing in a ministry inside prison walls, but by God's grace can testify of His power to transform.

On Saturday, 150 incarcerated kids will hear about Jesus for the first time or will be encouraged toward getting to know Him personally. They'll hear how Jesus changed the lives of all those folks in that list above. They'll hear that God loves them and has a plan for their lives. They'll be told that God doesn't make junk and that they are precious to Him. They'll hear the words "I love you" possibly for the first time in their lives. And they'll get to pet a big dog who is undoubtedly directed by angels.

If God can use all of these for His purpose, can't He use you, too? Wounded, broken, hurting, failing but still trying, and never forgetting His grace... those are who He can use.

Get off the bench. Get into the game. Wherever you are. However you're called. Don't miss the blessing of being part of the body of Christ.

Curiosity

2008-08-09T10:32:00.002-05:00

Wow. You folks are curious! ;)

The last line of the previous post was for Studly. But I guess you figured that out.

I was looking for the Spanish equivalent of "what goes around, comes around," because I think turnabout is fair play. My research assistant, aka my sister-in-law (thanks, Jo!) who is of course bilingual, said "we're much more direct" when I asked her for a translation. She gave me several "sayings" that were along the lines of what I was looking for, and I chose my favorite.

'Cuz paybacks are... well, you know.

"Se te va a secar la lengua" means "your tongue is going to dry up."

That would teach Studly to think TWO times (okay, twice) before "tutoring" me inappropriately in the future.

So there.

Twos (or Dos-es)

2008-08-07T18:15:00.002-05:00

Studly Man has citizenship in TWO countries (USA and Peru).

He is one of his father's TWO sons.

He is one of my parents' TWO sons-in-law.

He has TWO college degrees.

He has TWO eyes and TWO ears and TWO nostrils.

And he speaks TWO languages.

A few months after we married, we visited Studly's family in deep South Texas. His dad and stepmother have had a live-in housekeeper (Tonia) for the last 30+ years. She works very hard and is always so gracious to us when we visit. If one of us leaves a dirty sock on the floor accidentally, we'll come back from an outing to find she's done ALL of our laundry. She makes our bed within 14 seconds of our vacating it, and she makes breakfast to order for each person every morning. And she doesn't speak English. That's not a problem for anyone else in the family, but for me, it poses a bit of a challenge sometimes.

One morning on that particular visit, I slept late following a bad migraine the night before. When I finally stumbled out of bed, everyone was gone... except for Tonia. My mother-in-law had gone to a closing (she's a realtor), and Studly and his dad had ventured across the border for a meeting with the guys who built their product in Matamoros. When Tonia heard me stirring around in the kitchen, she came in to take my breakfast order. Although she understands some English, she isn't confident speaking it. The same holds true for my Spanish. We gestured to each other and pointed to things until we'd had a complete "conversation," and she understood my simple order: toast and coffee.

Later that day, I told Studly I felt badly because Tonia is always so gracious to me, and yet I can't communicate with her well like everyone else does. I wanted to thank her for her hospitality and maybe be able to order my breakfast... you know... in Spanish. He asked me what I wanted to say to her, and I told him. He graciously offered to teach me how to say what I wanted to convey in Spanish.

For hours that evening and the next morning, I rehearsed. There were some tricky words I hadn't heard before, and I was having trouble rolling my 'r' properly. Studly gently coached me as we got ready that morning until I had my speech down perfectly. Feeling very bold, I was ready to march into the kitchen and speak to Tonia. I opened the bedroom door and took a step out into the hall.

And then he grabbed me.

By the shoulders.

Laughing so hard he couldn't talk.

And I knew.

I knew he had taught me to say something slightly different from what I thought I was saying.

After much prodding, he finally gave in and confessed through the tears that were running down his cheeks while he held his sides as he laughed. He had taught me how to say, "My husband has three testicles." (Yes, it was in 2002, very shortly after "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" came out.)

Somewhere between my anger and my laughter, we finally managed to get to the kitchen. He composed himself well, and we sat down at the breakfast table. His dad was sitting there drinking his coffee and reading the paper. As we sat quietly, the silence grew deafening. I could stand it no longer.

I looked at my dear father-in-law and said, "Do you know what your son just did to his new bride?" A sad look came over his face. "No. What happened?" he asked with great concern. I told him the whole sordid story, and he patted my shoulder and said, "He's terrible, that son of mine. I'm sorry."

And then he winked at Studly.

And I knew I was doomed for the rest of my life. Studly had been an excellent student at the Practical Joke School of South Texas, and his father was the teacher. They'd spent a lifetime playing jokes on each other, and now I had been inaugurated into the family.

Within a few weeks of that experience, we had a crew of Brazilians laying a new flagstone patio in our backyard. It was the heat of the summer, like it is right now, and it was dangerously hot for anyone working outdoors. Dehydration and heat stroke were real threats. Studly had a meeting away from the house, and I thought the right thing to do would be to take these men who were working so very hard for us some nice cold ice water. I got my biggest pitcher and six 32 oz plastic cups. I filled the pitcher with ice water and placed everything on a tray. Following my previous foray into "speaking Spanish," I was a bit nervous. However, I mustered some courage and stepped out onto the back porch. The crew's foreman saw me.

"Agua?" I said tentatively.

A huge smile came across his face as he came over to me to take the tray.

"Oh, yes ma'am. We'd love some water. Thank you VERY much," he said in p.e.r.f.e.c.t. English. He took the tray and said in Portuguese (the native tongue of Brazilians and very similar to Spanish) to his crew that break time had come. They all came over into the shade and got a drink of water. I smiled as I turned to go back into the house, and as I did, something caught the corner of my eye.

There it was. A huge, industrial Igloo water dispenser and accompanying cups the crew had brought. They HAD water. They didn't NEED water. They were being gracious to accept my kindness. And I felt a little silly.

When Studly arrived home, I told him what had transpired. He laughed and recalled our most recent Spanish lesson, one in which he was more forthright about what he was teaching me to say.

When the crew finished their work and it was time for them to leave, Studly and I went out to see our new patio. Knowing the foreman and crew would appreciate my attempt to learn and communicate in another language, Studly told them I'd been learning some Spanish. He looked at me with great pride and said, "Go ahead, honey. Tell them what you've learned."

I lowered my head and cleared my throat.

"Mi esposo es muy guapo," I said with confidence.

They fell out laughing. The foreman asked Studly if I knew what I'd just said. He assured them I did. I looked at the foreman and said, "Well he IS very handsome, don't you think?" More laughter... because, yes, Studly had taught me to say "my husband is very handsome."

At least I was wise to the antics now.

TWO times. Twice he's had fun teaching me silliness in Spanish.

Se te va a secar la lengua.

Blog Block Blues

2008-08-05T11:07:00.003-05:00

I have three posts half written, but can't bring myself to finish any of them. They're either of heavy subject matter or of the "walk-down-memory-lane" ilk. I'm not in a "heavy" mood, and I really don't feel nostalgic.

I also have the REALLY-don't-want-to-heat-up-the-kitchen blues, also known as "what ARE we going to have for dinner?" Something fast. Something easy. Something tasty. Something healthy. Maybe even something cold. It IS 327 degrees in the shade here, ya know.

That all got me to wondering if I'm the only one feeling like that. (I know I'm not. I inherited the gene, so there are at least a couple other people on the planet like that.)

What are some of your favorite quick 'n' easy summer meals?

Help a girl out. Send me some lovin'... and some ideas/recipes.

Love ya'll.

Renu/ReKnew/ReNUE/Renew

2008-07-31T21:24:00.008-05:00

Lying in bed for days, intermittantly wondering why man can walk on the moon, invent an iPod (or plasma TV or micro-computer chip or artificial heart or, um, Spanx) and build a guided missile that can accurately land on a gnat's behind but yet not find a cure for the common cold, I realized the mind is a terrible thing to waste. However, since my mind was in fact wasted on cold medicine, I figured I'd just go with the flow and see where it took me. In my wanderings, I wondered about the other ways my mind gets wasted. (I can trash myself without any help from my friends, thankyouverymuch.)

I waste it worrying. I waste it being angry. I waste it being grumpy. I waste it focusing on things that don't matter. Waste it on TV (but not a plasma one 'cuz Casa de Castro is devoid of those). Waste it on music that isn't edifying. Waste it trying to figure out "six degrees of separation" and Area 51. (Oh, I kid.)

The point is my mind is so scattered and full and busy and tired. It needs to be reconditioned. Refreshed. Rejuvenated. Rested. Restored. Renewed. Renewed...

What does that mean? How do I renew it? Or do I

ReNu it?
ReKnew it?
ReNUE it?

ReNu, my very favorite contact lens solution, does wonderful things for my eyes and my contacts. It is soothing and refreshing. But my mind? Not so much.

ReKnew Energy Systems "offers renewable energy systems that offset or replace grid electricity and the burning of fossil fuels for house heating." Since it is important to be green these days, this ReKnew could save money and be better for our environment. But my mind? Not so much.

ReNUE projects for urban environments are most likely a good way to breathe new life into developments in urban areas. Another worthy cause. But my mind? Not so much.

Renew. Renew. That's the only thing left.

Present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect. Romans 12:1-2

-We're not to take other men’s opinions or conduct as a rule for life, but wholly renounce this world, and set before us as our mark the will of God as is manifested and revealed to us in his word. (Geneva Study Bible)

- Renewing by such an inward spiritual transformation as makes the whole life new--new in its motives and ends, even where the actions differ in nothing from those of the world--new, considered as a whole, and in such a sense as to be wholly unattainable save through the constraining power of the love of Christ. (Jamieson, Fausset, Brown)

- Conversion and sanctification are the renewing of the mind; a change, not of the substance, but of the qualities of the soul. The progress of sanctification, dying to sin more and more, and living to righteousness more and more, is the carrying on this renewing work, till it is perfected in glory. The great enemy to this renewal is conformity to this world. Take heed of forming plans for happiness, as though it lay in the things of this world, which soon pass away. Do not fall in with the customs of those who walk in the lusts of the flesh, and mind earthly things. (Matthew Henry)

It is my duty - my duty - to renew my mind. How I struggle with that when I'm not keeping myself in structured and disciplined study of God's Word! In a few weeks, Studly Man and I will be starting a ten week study of the first three chapters of Revelation (ten weeks on three chapters?!?!) through Precept Upon Precept.

I can hardly wait 'cuz my mind? She's awastin' and needs renewin'.

A Hometown Friend??

2008-07-30T08:31:00.004-05:00

My site meter friend tells me someone from Roanoke, Virginia stopped by here today. Since I have a great love for that beautiful city - I was born there (third generation Roanoker) and lived there until I was 12 at which time I was transplanted to Texas - I would LOVE to "meet" whoever stopped by and hear about how things are in the Blue Ridge mountains these days. Please leave a comment or email me. I'd love to chat!

Coveting a Laptop

2008-07-29T22:53:00.007-05:00

While lying in bed for three days and four nights with a horrible respiratory bug, I formulated my next post in mind, thinking I'd post it tonight. I made it to work today but came home pretty wiped out. Still, I figured I could manage enough energy to, you know, SIT at the computer and type out my post. Then... Studly Man got a phone call from a long-lost-somebody-or-other that lasted for TWO HOURS. (And this was two MEN talking!) Then Studly needed to call his sweet aunt who lives in L.A. to check on her after the earthquake. (She's fine, praise the Lord... as is all of his family who just came through Hurricane Dolly.)

Of course he handled these calls from the "command center" AKA the desk in the office where the computer sits.

Studly @ Command Center = no bloggy for Jenn.

I'll be back with a real post tomorrow whenever he buys me a laptop sometime soon. Until then, happy Wednesday ya'll.

Awarding a Blessing

2008-07-25T12:13:00.007-05:00

My sweet friend, Kim, over at Seasons of my Heart blessed me this award.

I am truly humbled and honored. While I blog mostly as a creative outlet for myself and as a fun way to keep in touch with old friends and my family, I've been amazed at how many NEW and wonderful friends I've made through the fun that is blogging. What a blessing!

As instructed by Kim, I'm going to "go forth and share the love" and hopefully bless someone else today.

Sheryl, DidiLyn, Amy Beth, Paula and Donna (recipients of the award):

Your “official instructions” follow. Pick five blogs you consider deserving of this award, whether for creativity, design, interesting material, or contributions to the blogging community, no matter what language. Name each nominee and link to his/her blog. Show the award and include the name (and link to his/her blog) of whoever presented you with this award. Link to the Arte y Pico blog so everyone knows the origin of this award. Post these rules.

Sheryl at The Perch

DidiLyn at Meyers on the Hood

Amy Beth at Ministry So Fabulous

Paula at His Ways... are not our ways

Donna at Quiet Life

Ladies, you entertain and inspire me, make me laugh, and just plain bless my socks off. Now YOU go forth and share the love!

I Can't Come To Work Today Because I'm... Afraid

2008-07-22T18:15:00.004-05:00

Edited to add: (not a very delicate thing, but...) This morning I went to throw a tissue in the toilet. As I approached, the lid was closed, which is a bit unusual. (The BigDog has to have SOMEWHERE to drink from ya know!) Any way, when I lifted the lid, guess what I saw? Yep, another one of "those creatures" - it's that time of year in Texas I guess - floating in the bowl. I commented to Studly that I'd seen it, and he said, "Well, I TRIED to save you from it. I guess he's a good swimmer." Yes, Studly is my hero. He did TRY...

It isn't every day I find myself scared senseless... at work. Okay, it is, but not usually for the reason I was the other day.

The work day before had been interesting. The last patient of the day, a man who is "cute in a 'bad boy' sort of way" according to my deranged boss, apparently didn't think we had anything else to do after 5:00 except, you know, hang out at the office while he chatted up his buds on the cell (in spite of the fact that there is a sign on the door asking people to PUH-LEEEZE turn their cell phones off while in the office). Um, hello? We CLOSE at 5:00, and we'd like to GO HOME! Mr. BadBoy hadn't even started his new patient paperwork when the nurse went to check on him at 5:20. (His appointment was at 4:00.) He seemed a little startled by her offer to help him and responded by saying, "Oh, do you need this room?" Um, yeah. We NEED this room to be EMPTY! Hang up that phone and get busy, buddy.

After he made his way to the front desk to check out, he took two.more.calls.on.his.cell. Oh, yes he did. It never ceases to amaze me a) how selfish and entitled people can be these days; b) how awful some people's cell phone manners are; and c) how much I want to slap some sense into people from time to time. That was a big 'ole rabbit trail, but my, I feel better!

Anywho, I arrived at the office with the memories of the previous day still fresh. I went into my office and put down my purse and cell phone, got a ginormous cup of coffee (my coworkers call my coffee cup the "foot bath" because it is so big) and sat down at my desk, ready to dive in to the day's work. I opened the center drawer and reached in to get a pen.

And then it happened.

It happened so quickly. There was no time to prepare.

As I reached into the drawer

a

LIZARD

ran

across

my

hand

and scurried toward the back of the drawer.

I slammed the drawer shut (almost catching my fingers), squealed loud enough to be heard in Tibet, and ran screaming from the building to the front office. My boss was in surgery, and the nurse had gone over to the hospital to visit a postop patient, so I was all alone.

Just me and my lizard.

So I did what any brave girl would do. I called my husband.

He laughed at me. Oh, yes. Yes, he did.

He said (in words that sounded strangely like "what-do-you-want-ME-to-do-about-it") that it probably wasn't the end of the world and that he thought I'd be okay. I made a mental note to run him over with my car not count on him to bail me out since he was, you know, 15 miles away. Realizing he was far too busy with real issues to listen to my ranting, I mercifully cut him loose and decided to call someone who could actually come to my rescue.

You see, I don't like things that creep or crawl, except perhaps tiny humans who have not yet learned to walk in the full, upright position. I don't even like to see pictures of them. My other coworker (who wasn't working that day) asked me if I was going to post some witty photo link of my pet lizard. Um, no. 'Cuz that would mean having to actually LOOK AT PICTURES OF LIZARDS, and hello? I don't do that. So use your imagination if you really need a picture. I can't tell you exactly how big he was because I was so busy running away, but suffice it to say it was about 900 feet long and 52 feet wide. You get the idea.

After speaking to Mr. NoCanHelpYou Studly Man, I got the brilliant idea to call the building maintenance guys. I told Elaine, the very sympathetic woman who answered the phone and confirmed that I am NOT a wimp, that I'd just wait for the fellas to come down. They did. An hour later.

They were dressed like this. One of them had a contraption that resembled a canister vacuum strapped to his back. And the search began.

Unfortunately, no lizard was found.

He is at large.

In my office.

Somewhere.

I can't come to work today because I'm... afraid.

What a NIGHT!

2008-07-20T17:08:00.007-05:00

Edited to add: This blog post took me over three hours to write because I spent so much time on YouTube watching Ms. McBride sing. What.a.voice.

"So, was it hot?" you ask?

Um, yeah. It was hot.

"Did you almost faint from the heat?" you wonder.

Well, yes. Yes, we did.

"But was it fun?"

Y.E.S. Yes, it was fun.

That BFF of mine? She rocks. And so did Martina. And Jack Ingram. What a show!

Burlene (that's my BFF - I'll have to explain some day why I call her Burlene, especially since her name is really Matilda) and her daughters treated me to one heckuva fun time. We started out by puttin' on the feed bag here. I went with my old standby, a turkey melt and some sweeeeeet tea. De-licious! Thinly sliced deli turkey, some melted provolone cheese and just-made guacamole on wheat bread?? Heaven!

Sorry. Reminiscing there for a moment. Made myself hungry.

Then we motored on the down the highway to the furnace venue and parked our trusty ride. Burlene drives a gangsta car. I felt safe. No one would mess with four women in a gangsta car, especially if one of them is Annie Oakley.

After picking up our tickets at the Will Call window and securing some beverages, we found our seats... right down front. We thought they were on the second row. Turns out they were on the fourth row. Oh, darn. The fourth row was BETTER than the second row! Row two might have been a little too close, and our necks woulda been sore from tiltin' our heads back for three hours. But there we were. Front and center. Oh, yes ma'am. C.E.N.T.E.R. In a word, our seats were perfect. Hot, but perfect.

There were two warm up acts. We missed the first one. The second one, however, was great. Jack Ingram is a homegrown Texas boy. I hafta confess: I wasn't familiar with his music. I typically listen to Christian contemporary stuff and haven't always been a huge fan of country music. However, this guy and his band put on an energetic, entertaining show. Watching them sweat up there made us all feel guilty for even THINKING about how hot we were.

Now being the pragmatic girl I am, with wisdom and forethought decided to take along this little thing. Burlene made some snide comment about my "cute little fan." However, the day AFTER the concert when she had to go to an outdoor birthday party at 4:00 in the afternoon, she said she thought maybe she should borrow that nifty little fan of mine. Ha! It WAS a good idea. During Jack Ingram's set, I did at one point think I would literally melt and ooze right off the hard, blue metal chair I was sitting on and run right down onto the concrete floor only to be mixed with someone's spilt beer. But my trusty little $1.50 fan saved.my.life. Anyone who knows me also knows how much I dislike being hot. Studly Man thought I was plumb crazy to even agree to go to an outdoor concert in July in Texas. But with a fan... eh. I made it.

The panic started toward the end of Jack's set. I realized the batteries in my trusty little fan were overworked and underpaid and just might mount a protest or a labor strike or something equally as horrible. I knew what I had to do. I had to find more batteries.

At intermission, I set out on a quest for batteries and water. The water was easy to find. The batteries? Not so much. I asked 1,234 people if they knew where I might buy some batteries. Each time I was met with one of two expressions. This one or this one. Just as I was about to give up and return to my seat, I spotted a little booth where they sell those light-up-glow-in-the-dark necklaces. I walked over and said in a very weary and defeated tone, "I don't suppose you sell batteries, do you?" The very kind young woman working the booth asked what kind of batteries I needed and how many. I told her. She said, "Well, I don't SELL them, but I have some in my purse." I yelled, "SOLD!" I pulled out some cash, she pulled out some batteries, we exchanged our possessions, and all was right with the world. I wouldn't melt after all.

I got back to my fourth-row-front-and-center seat about three minutes before Martina (we're on a first name basis now) took the stage. I settled in for what turned out to be an incredible distraction from the heat! Can I just say... that girl can S.I.N.G.

She's cute as a button and tiny as a church mouse, and how that big 'ole voice comes out of her, I'll never know. That's a picture from the paper this morning, taken during the concert. What it DOESN'T show is the gorgeous pair of five-inch Christian Louboutin ankle strap shoes she o.w.n.e.d. How she walked on them is a puzzlement to me, but how she danced on them and ran all over that stage in them left my mind plumb boggled.

She did most of her hits. But in addition to those, she covered Bill Withers' "Lean On Me" (that link is actually from the performance I saw two nights ago - video isn't great, but sound is okay), Aretha Franklin's "You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman," Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'," and Pat Benatar's "Hit Me With Your Best Shot." Ya'll... she can sing.

She sang "Anyway." I've heard it a zillion times, but I'm ashamed to say I never knew it was Martina singing it. It has become a great crossover hit on the Christian stations. Awesome song!

And she sang "Concrete Angel" with the video playing behind her. I watched as people all around us wiped the tears that had silently slipped down their cheeks. At the end of the song, the jumbotron screens gave contact information for the child abuse hot line. Martina has done a lot to raise awareness of this horrendous plague that so many children face.

She's gorgeous. She can sing. She has a heart for kids. And she has a new fan.

After the concert we made our way back to the gangsta car and talked about what an amazing show we'd just witnessed. We were entertained and moved, and it was just a perfect evening.

Almost.

Once we went through the drive-thru at Taco Bell and got crunchy tacos and Strawberry Fruitista Freezes, it was a perfect evening.

Oh, yeah. And she can sing.

Tonight, Tonight

2008-07-18T14:42:00.002-05:00

Tonight I'm going here to see her - - outside. The weather will be like this. I know two songs she sings. My BFF had good seats and invited me to go.

Am I NUTS?

Medical Information at Your Fingertips

2008-07-15T23:59:00.004-05:00

It's "hump day," so that means it's Works-For-Me Wednesday over at Rocks In My Dryer.

Years ago, my mom called me and asked me to meet her in the emergency room where my dad was being taken. At the intake desk, many questions were asked of her about my dad's medications, allergies, surgical history, etc. She was understandably shaken by the very fact she was IN the ER with her beloved, and those details needed by the medical staff did not come easily to her memory.

After that, I decided to make a medical history form for every member of the family. I made it up in Microsoft Word so it could be easily updated as necessary. The form includes the demographic info (name, address, phone, date of birth, etc.), current insurance information, name and phone number of the individuals' various doctors, all medications AND dosages being taken, allergies (SO important for health care providers to know), surgical history and even some pertinant family history. Several copies of each person's history were printed.

Then I went to the office supply and bought red file folders and marked them "MEDICAL HISTORY" on the front. The medical histories were put inside the folders. The red folders (one per household) were placed near the telephone that is used most frequently. That way it is handy if a 9-1-1 call is necessary or to grab on the way out the door in case of emergency. (When I was seeing a doctor for the first time recently, I included one of these with my new patient paperwork. The doctor commented that he "wished all of his patients were that prepared!" He's referred to that page several times on subsequent visits.)

Now ALL of the important information is in one place, and no one has to face an emotionally charged situation while counting on his/her memory to relay potentially life-saving info to caregivers. Every time I change the batteries in the smoke detectors ("spring forward" and "fall back" daylight savings times), I also review the files for any needed updates.

Here's a sample form:

Music...

2008-07-15T10:32:00.007-05:00

The power of music.

Its ability to stir a heart.

Its capacity to elevate to another level.

Its skillful art of propelling one into worship.

THIS song:

The Real Thing(s)

2008-07-13T18:54:00.013-05:00

When I was little, I had a stuffed doggie that I adored. It was a little pink poodle, and his name was, um, Pink Poodle. (Ya can't take off too many points for lack of creativity - I was three or four!) Pink Poodle frequently accompanied me to imaginary destinations and sometimes even to real ones. The ONE place he ALWAYS had to be at night was in bed, right.next.to.me. Couldn't go to sleep without him. Wouldn't even try.

One tragic evening, that all changed forever. Mom tucked us in (P.P. and me) and off we went to dreamland. At some point during the night, I got sick. Really sick. Almost THIS sick. Please pardon my lack of fragile flower-ness here, but I threw up all over Pink Poodle and myself.

My momma pulled me out of bed, peeled my pajamas off, and gave me a warm bath. I cried through the whole thing. I remember it like it happened yesterday. Of course the bedding had been changed by the time she put me back in bed, and of course, Pink Poodle had been removed from the scene. His poor little body had been placed in a paper bag and put out with the trash.

When I realized he was missing, I had a meltdown. Not the poor-little-sick-child-doesn't-feel-well meltdown. The YOU-BETTER-GET-MY-PINK-POODLE-BACK-OR-I'LL-MAKE-THE-REST-OF-YOUR-NATURAL-LIFE-A-LIVING-HELL meltdown. I'm dainty that way.

Out of great compassion Because she knew her child very well (and thus knew that threat was R.E.A.L.), my momma retrieved P.P. from the trash and attempted to clean him up. Although she gave it a valiant effort, there was no way to clean him up except to put him...

in

the

washing

machine.

Note to moms everywhere: Do NOT put your child's most favorite stuffed animal in the washing machine. It will not survive.

Alas, Pink Poodle's demise was sure.

And I was inconsolable.

I needed Pink Poodle back. A massive man dog hunt ensued for a new Pink Poodle. (Now I know that I am not the only little girl ever to lose her pink doggie, and I also know each victim finds the loss unfathomable, which sends every adult she knows scrambling for another pink dog just like the lost one.) I digress.

Pink Poodle's twin was not to be found. I had to settle for this little guy.
I was NOT happy as one might imagine, but apparently, from the looks of this pup, I overcame my prejudice and learned to love him, too.

I hadn't seen him in years and years. I found him in the foot locker. He appears to have been well loved at some point. However, I don't remember that I ever named him. He's NOT a poodle, but he is was pink. Perhaps I didn't name him because I figured it would be easier to lose him if he didn't have a name. You know... like farmers never name their pigs or cows because it makes it too hard come slaughter time. Any way, this pink dog served his purpose. He was my friend and companion for a long time.

Now that I'm all grown up, I don't need a little stuffed pink dog any more.

'Cuz I have THIS dog:He's the real thing.

And I don't need some lame guy to play Mr. RightNow, because I have THIS guy:
He's the real thing.

And I don't need to place my trust in chariots or horses because I have Him:
And He's the Real Thing.

Slicing Pretty Strawberries

2008-07-09T11:09:00.013-05:00

Over at Rocks In My Dryer, it's Works For Me
Wednesday! I always love finding great new ideas and ways of making life simpler. It's also fun to check out other blogs through the links. Learn sumthin' new ever' day!

Ever notice how restaurants always have those beautiful thinly and evenly sliced strawberries? They look so much prettier as garnishes on desserts or just on a buffet than the chunky, uneven slices I end up with when using my knife. I finally learned how to get pretty and EASY strawberry slices at home.

Once the berries have been washed and the stem and leaves removed, they are ready to go. Using an egg slicer, place a strawberry in the slicer, and close the "lid." Voila! Perfectly sliced strawberries every.single.time. (Do make sure the egg slicer is the heavier duty type; some of the inexpensive plastic ones will break doing this.)

I've wowed guests with my "professional looking" slices. So quick! So easy!

P.S. "Foot locker" post below. Keep readin'!

Foot Locker Findings

2008-07-08T11:30:00.014-05:00

My mom and dad have been doing some "spring cleaning."

Since Christmas.

Let me explain.

On Christmas morning, Ma and Pa were to come by our house (they only live a mile away) and pick us up so we could all motor over to my sister's house for the day. Sister lives a half hour to 45 minutes away, so it makes sense to ride together and save.some.gas.

Early that morning, the phone rang. Caller ID said (and yes, I mean SAID 'cuz our CID talks) the call was coming from the home of my parental units. I answered with a cheerful "Merry Christmas!" only to hear my dad say, "Hello there. It's Paw." (That's what his grandkids call him.) I could hear the frustration in his voice. He said, "We're going to be a little late. We've had a little problem."

Problem? On Christmas morning?

The bottom of the hot water heater had given way some time during the night, and a gazillion gallons of water had poured onto the floor... for several hours. Water was everywhere. I asked him if they needed us to help, and he said no. I told Studly Man what had happened. We looked at each other and knew what we had to do. We got dressed and went over any way.

Water was e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e.

The water heater resides in a closet in a hallway that is situated between the formal dining room and a fourth bedroom that had become the "warehouse" for all kinds of junk stuff. Some of it was mine. Okay, a lot of it was mine. Some was my sister's. (Yes, we've both been gone from home for years, but hey, why hurry?) A lot of it was Mom and Dad's.

The dining room furniture was sitting in water. The sunken living room that flows (Oooo... sorry) from the formal dining room had literally become a pool that splashed when you walked in it. The fourth bedroom and its closet were soaked.

In a word, it was wet overwhelming.

After unloading all the china and all the crystal from the hutch onto the dining room table that had been relocated to the middle of the kitchen floor, we started moving the other furniture out. And then we started moving boxes out of the fourth bedroom. And moving boxes out of the fourth bedroom. And moving boxes out of the fourth bedroom. And.... you get the point. Everything was wet.

After calling the insurance people (the whole family is in Good Hands, doncha know) and figuring out the next move, we finally got cleaned up and went over to Sister's to salvage something of our day of celebration. We did decide that even though we'd spent the morning sloshing around and moving furniture, that was a GREAT way to spend Christmas day as compared to the one we'd had three years before when we spent it in a hospital room with Daddy after he'd had a series of TIAs (mini-strokes). That was seven weeks after he'd had quintuple bypass surgery. Yeah. We'll take moving soggy furniture over that ANY day!

To make a long story longer, in the weeks that followed, it was discovered that the water heater problem was perhaps a blessing in disguise. Isn't God funny that way? What seemed like a disaster (and it did seem like it at the time) turned out to be the very thing that exposed some other problems that needed attention.

Several months later, wall board has been repaired and replaced, fresh painting has been done, new carpet has been installed throughout the house, brick planters in front of the house have been replaced with beautifully landscaped beds, and even the garage has been cleaned out and organized. Oh, and there's a new hot water heater, too.

After a ton of work getting the house reassembled, Ma and Pa decided to go through years of accumulated stuff - theirs, both of their mothers', my sister's and mine. Now one can imagine this process would take a while. What most can't imagine is how my little ole' daddy would go through it. If it didn't go straight to a dumpster somewhere, it got scanned, cataloged, repacked, or all of the above. Clearly having a photographic record of such things is imperative.

One of the things unearthed was an old foot locker of Dad's that had been adopted by me when I was in junior high. It became my treasure chest. I hadn't see it or its contents in at least two decades.

Dad scanned most of the pictures and scrapbook type stuff that was in there. I haven't stopped laughing at what I saw. The stuff I saved!!

Well... look...

Here's a felt horse glued on some wallpaper that was glued on a piece of cardboard. I'm guessing I glued this together, no doubt with the guidance of some talented and/or artsy adult.
My hand prints with the requisite poem. I was probably four or five.
A half-eaten picture of my sister and me in front of a birch tree in our front yard in Virginia. (I'm the one on the right, and I think I'm probably about five.) I'm positive my momma made our little outfits. She's quite the seamstress.

While there are many more "treasures" to explore in future blog posts, these were some of the few that made me giggle. And while it was fun to stroll down Memory Lane, there were actually very few things in the foot locker that I'll keep. Oh, sure I'll keep the photos and certificates. But the greeting cards from my first love? The program of a play another beau starred in? Newspaper clippings about people I barely remember? Nah. Those are going to the great garbage can in the sky.

I'm going to treasure my real treasures - my sweet momma and daddy who hung on to all my stuff, waded through deep waters (literally and figuratively) with me and taught me how to place value on what really matters most, the loving home they raised us in, and the spiritual heritage and legacy they've given me.

"Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal; for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." Matthew 6:19-21

That right there? That's pure gold.

2008-07-04T00:01:00.001-05:00

"I'm proud to be an American where at least I know I'm free. "

Can't you just hear Lee Greenwood singing?

I am proud to be an American. Our country is not perfect. Far from it. But it IS the greatest country on this planet. No other country recognizes the freedoms we so often take for granted. And few countries were founded on Judao-Christian principles.

I love the Fourth of July. I love the pomp and circumstance and the fireworks and the playing of our National Anthem. I love the whole process of what it means to be patriotic. And I really love it when someone else's expression of patriotism sends chills down my spine.

Like this:

If you are grateful for the blessing and privilege of living in the most amazing country on earth, take the time to find a veteran who fought for her freedom and personally thank him or her. Then pause and thank our great God for all that we enjoy.

Happy Fourth, ya'll.

From Grumbling to Grateful

2008-07-02T18:45:00.007-05:00

I've been grumbling. A lot.

I don't like to grumble.

I don't like to be around people who grumble.

God tells us not to grumble, and especially not to grumble against Him.

Why am I am grumbling? Why can't I be content?

Philippians 1:14-15 says, "Do all things without grumbling or disputing; so that you will prove yourselves to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights in the world."

1 Timothy 6:6 says, "But godliness is actually a means of great gain when accompanied by contentment."

Why am I grumbling?

My life is full. I sat down to create a compare/contrast list of things I've grumbled about over the last few months. Astonshing.

My doctor hasn't yet been able to regulate my thyroid medication, and I'm really, really tired all.the.time. which makes me a tired, grouchy grumbler. I live in a day and age where simple daily medication is available and can, in fact, take care of the problem. My current medical challenge is extrememly minor in the grand scheme of things, and it certainly pales in comparison to the struggles of others I know and pray for regularly.

My office sees a whole lot of folks who have a "sense of entitlement" and treat others rudely and presumptuously. This gets really old, ya'll. I have a job that is keeping a roof over our heads, AND I have an opportunity to influence others in a positive manner.

I don't always choose to try to influence others in a positive manner, and I know I should, which makes me feel guilty. I'm doing better, and I do have the power because Jesus lives in me.

My housekeeper keeps breaking things in my house. I have the wherewithall to HAVE a housekeeper, and the things she has broken are just... THINGS.

There are some difficult issues being dealt with among my family. I have a family that loves me and loves each other and works together to build and maintain wonderful relationships, something many people I know cannot say.

It is h.o.t. in Texas. I don't like to be hot. Seriously. My home, my office, and my car have air conditioning. I'm thankful for air conditioning.

Studly Man hasn't been employed in 15+ months. My job has paid the bills.

Studly Man hasn't been employed in 15+ months. He has an exciting new project that we believe is about to be incoming producing AND puts him in front of even more prison wardens who may issue new invitations for us to minister to incarcerated youth.

Studly Man hasn't been employed in 15+ months. My husband is at home - with me - and not given to defeat.

The budget has been tight, and we've had to forego things we want and tighten our proverbial belts. Our needs are met, and then some.

The political climate in America is beyond scary because America turns her back on God a little more each day. Daniel 2 says that GOD is the One Who establishes kings AND the One Who removes kings. (No person will come to power anywhere except that God permits it.) God is still in control no matter who ends up in Washington.

Satan won't leave us alone. God is at work in our lives, and that poses a great threat to the enemy.

Satan is waging war against the Church. We belong to a Bible-believing, Bible-teaching church that refuses to compromise, stands on the Truth, and does what is right instead of what is popular.

The list is a lot longer, but I'll stop with that. My conclusions were simple.

How dare my attitude be one of grumbling? Have I learned NOTHING from studying about the children of Israel and their grumbling against God?

Zig Ziglar and Dale Carnegie got it right. Positive thinking yields positive results. As a child of God, I have hope which is the epitome of a positive attitude. I'm instructed in Philippians 4 to dwell on whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, whatever has any excellence and whatever is worthy of praise. If I actually DO that, there's no room for grumbling. Only gratefulness. I am grateful, but am I grateful enough?

I'm working on it.

What struggles are causing you to grumble? How can you focus on being more grateful? How can I encourage you?

In a galaxy far, far away...

2008-06-29T21:58:00.005-05:00

I've been working on a post for about three days now. It's a tough one, so I've been taking my time. My left foot (no, not the movie, my REAL left foot) has been really bothering me, so I've kept it propped up most of the day. Since I don't have a lap top from which I could blog while my foot was elevated, I've had to wait until I felt well enough to come in here and sit at "the command post," as Studly calls it. Sometime soon, I'll finish that other post. For now, I'm going in a different direction.

At about 5:00 this afternoon, our power went out. No storm, no nothing. Just no power. When I called to report the outage, the recording acknowledged a problem in our area and said they estimated we'd have power back by, oh... 8:00 p.m. Hello? This is TEXAS. Three hours without air conditioning at the end of June... well, that's just not funny. Thankfully a thunderstorm blew in last night and had cooled things down a tiny bit, but Studly and I figured camping at my ma and pa's house until the crisis was overted was a capital idea. So after securing some ice cream for our hot selves, we mosied over to the homeplace.

My daddy recently came across an old foot locker that was FULL of stuff from my "Growing Up Jenny" years. I went through the box tonight and laughed hysterically at some of the stuff I said/did/wrote/saved/photographed from all those years ago.

One thing I found that DID warm my heart is the picture below. We had one.sweet.dog. when I was growing up, and Dad and I realized some time back we don't have very many pictures of her at all. The very few we do have are blurry and grainy. Imagine my excitement when I found THIS picture: I was probably five or six when we got her. (I'm nine in this picture.) We had lots of choices of names for this dog. "Spot" would've been a good idea because of that big ole thang on her back. "Bat Girl" was suggested because of the "mask" she wears. Ultimately we settled on the highly original, no-one-else-will-ever-name-their-dog-that name of Princess. It fit her.

I loved that dog. She was funny and smart and so very sweet. She had to be put down when I was in high school, but for the years before that, she gave our family so much joy and unconditional love.

I'm glad I found this picture.

I miss her.

Strawberry Sensation

2008-06-26T15:21:00.003-05:00

Big Mama is having a hard time staying cool in the Texas heat. Heating up the oven to cook dinner also heats up the whole kitchen and elevates the grumpy factor. I totally speak that language. She's having a summer recipe carnival over on her blog, and she's looking for something that won't warm up her house. I'm obliging (that's a big Southern word we use here in Texas) by posting a recipe for a frozen dessert my family loves 'cuz who doesn't like dessert? Expecially a COLD dessert on a HOT day!

Strawberry Sensation

4 C fresh strawberries, divided
1 can Eagle Brand Sweetened Condensed Milk (I use fat free)
1/4 C lemon juice
1 12 oz tub Cool Whip, thawed, divided (I use lite)
12 Oreo cookies (I use reduced fat)
1 Tbsp butter or margarine, melted

Line the inside of an 8x4 inch loaf pan with foil, extending the edges down over the sides and ends of the pan. Mash 2 cups of the strawberries in a large bowl. Stir in condensed milk and lemon juice. Fold in 2 cups of the whipped topping. Pour into foil-lined pan. Finely chop oreo cookies (can do this part in the food processor). Combine with melted butter and spoon over the whipped mixture in the pan. Cover the cookie mixture with ends of foil (and a little extra foil, if all is not covered). Press cookie mixture into whipped mixture through the foil. Freeze 6 hours or until firm. Invert onto serving plate when ready to serve. Remove pan and peel away foil. Spread remaining whipped topping onto top and sides. Slice remaining two cups strawberries and arrange on dessert plates. Store leftovers in freezer. Makes 12 servings (or six REALLY big servings for two people!).

Enjoy!

Is It Wrong?

2008-06-24T19:00:00.005-05:00

On Father's Day, my family got together for lunch after church. Then we all took naps, because... isn't that what you're SUPPOSED to do on Sunday afternoon? (If it isn't, please don't tell me. It would scar me for life.) After all the good little boys and girls awoke from our naps, we gathered over here at Casa de Castro for some fellowship and food. You know, chips and sandwiches and the like.

My momma made tuna salad. Lotsa people make tuna salad. But my ma? She makes gggooooooooooddddd tuna salad. Apparently during our six years of marriage, Studly Man had never overdosed on had my mom's tuna salad. And that? Well, that's a crime.

He mentioned s.e.v.e.r.a.l. times how good her tuna salad was.

Me? I took the hint.

Night before last when I was making the grocery list, I said, "I'll get the stuff and make you some tuna salad." His response: "Like your mom's?????"

"Yes, dear. Like my mom's."

Geez.

Now Studly Man has some hobbies. One of them is fishing. In fact, he'd rather fish than breathe. Okay, probably not really, but close. Tomorrow, he and Paul, his buddy since the first grade, are going fishing at a great big lake north of here. He's so excited, he can hardly stand it. When I got home from work tonight, he had the car packed. He announced he'd be going to bed around 9:00 p.m. since he'd be getting up around 3:00 a.m. My response: "Are you sleeping in the guest room?"

He is.

Now being the thoughtful wife I am, I decided I'd whip up a batch of Ma's Special Tuna Salad just for the fishing trip.

And then....

it occurred to me.

Is that right? Is it ethical? Is it moral? Dare I contribute to the trauma of a striper bass?

It would be kind of ironic. There's Studly sitting in the boat, line in the water, cool drink next to him and a tuna fish sandwich in his hand. Mr. Striper Bass swims up to the boat and sees his cousin, well, um... IN Studly's sandwich. Studly takes a big 'ole bite and says to him, "Mr. Striper Bass, have no fear. All ya hafta do is swim over here, hop on this little hook I've got for ya, and I'll eat you on a pretty little sandwich, too."

Is that wrong?

Maybe Jessica Simpson could help me make chicken sandwiches. I did get Chicken of the Sea. And that IS tuna, right?

Break Up to... Make Up....

2008-06-23T00:02:00.005-05:00

Can't you just hear The Stylistics singing?

It seems Samson can.

Perhaps he's forgiven Studly Man for the, um, scalping.

He's either forgiven his daddy or needs to snuggle up with him for some extra warmth! Either way, they're pretty cute.

I'm keeping them.

Haircuts and Bratwurst

2008-06-19T19:35:00.012-05:00

Every now and then (actually pretty frequently), Studly Man will volunteer to do for me something really, really thoughtful and helpful. You know, run an errand, bring me Starbucks at work, or slay that big dragon hiding under the bed. On Tuesday, he told me he had made an appointment with the groomer for Samson. He was even going to drop him off for me and pick him up, too. What a sweet guy!

Little did I know he had hatched an evil plan.

He took Sam in and gave the instructions for what he wanted. He said, "I want him to be bald when I pick him up."

They complied.

Please Daddy, PLEASE don't make me go back to that stylist!

Don't ever do that to me again, you big meanie!

I hope all the other dogs in the park don't make fun of me. My poor baby now LOOKS like the "mouse" his daddy says he is! Studly SWEARS Samson will be happier this way, what with this h.o.t. Texas summer we're havin', and it isn't even officially SUMMER yet. Shiloh keeps looking at him while wondering who he is and where Samson went.

To make up for it (okay, not really - it was a coincidence), Studly decided to grill some lamb chops and bratwurst on the grill and let the kids have a taste.

Our children, our beggars.

If ya gotta have a goofy looking 'do, at least negotiate some bratwurst outta the deal.

Next time Studly volunteers to "help" me, somebody remind me to say "No, thanks!"

;)

God's Handiwork in My Kitchen

2008-06-18T19:44:00.003-05:00

Amazing and Amazed

2008-06-17T21:47:00.011-05:00

Sometimes I'm startled by how hard the enemy works to keep us from experiencing the miracles of God. And then I'm amazed at how God works in spite of him... and in spite of us. I have to work on that second part - I never want to STOP being amazed by God's power, but then again, why I am ever "amazed" any more after a lifetime of watching Him do amazing things? Interesting conundrum.

After the enemy's attempts at stopping (or at least stalling) the prison event on Saturday, it was awesome to see what God did. In addition to having four brand new shiny volunteers added to the team, we also had the privilege of having Studly Man's dad come in with us for the very first time ever. Since he lives ten hours away, it has been hard to schedule an event when he'd be in town. But this time, it happened. His concept of what we do in the prisons was, to say the very least, a far cry from actually happens. Now he is able to understand more of what we do, and more importantly, why we do it. He's always been very proud of his firstborn, but this experience elevated that to untold levels. I'm glad for Studly. The most common denominator among the incarcerated kids we see is an absentee father. Absenteeism can take many forms: absent from the home, absent from the child's life in any capacity, present in the home but absent from the child emotionally, or some combination. That made the public expression of Studly's dad's pride even more precious.

So many things occur on each one of these visits. It is so hard to pick out just one or even two that impact me each time because SO many things do. However, this event was a little different. There was one precious child who stole my heart.

As I shared my story (including parts I will not ever post here), one young girl began sobbing. She told me later it was as if I was telling HER story. As I tried to comfort and encourage her, she begged for help. She was desperate, and she was speaking out for the very first time. She needs several different kinds of help. Her mother doesn't understand (or believe) what she says, and therefore has never done anything to help her daughter. I was able to impress upon this young girl to keep.asking.for.help. until she gets what she needs, even if it means asking many different people. One of the guards, who thankfully is a Believer, came over and took notes. I believe my new friend WILL get the help she needs now.

Seeing her downtrodden face and sad eyes, I remembered walking the road she now travels. The fear was so real, I could taste it. The memories, so fresh, it was as if it had all happened to me just last week even though it has been more than 20 years. But I was able to give her a glimmer of hope and share with her how the Lord had grown me through my darkest days and delivered me to a life of hope and joy and blessing. For the first time in her life, she imagined that she also could heal and that her healing would begin... in prison.

Isn't that interesting? God used incarceration as a way station along this girl's journey to facilitate the help she needs. While she is locked up, she is being protected from who and what hurts her. For the first time, she was able to be grateful... grateful... for her current circumstances. She is learning that not all people in the world have hurting her as their primary goal. She is learning how to determine who is trustworthy and how to give voice to her pain. She is asking questions about how to "get on with life" and how to forgive those who have wronged her. She is listening to the Truth for the very first time.

And all because the enemy's attempts at derailing my commitment to be there were thwarted by an almighty, all-knowing, loving, merciful God Who knew this little girl needed to hear my story.

I'm amazed.

Defeating a determined enemy

2008-06-13T22:18:00.007-05:00

In the morning, Studly Man and I will be leading a team of 25 volunteers into our local juvenile prison.

We are strangely delighted by the horrendous week we've had. (We're delighted NOW... it took a few days to get that way.)

Let me explain.

Studly's sister is an amazing artisan. She left her job as a chemical engineer after adopting four amazing kids, and she has replaced her income by selling her art. (Those kids are seven, seven, six and five now - pray for her!!) She lives near Austin, and we're here in Dallas. There is a huge art festival here this weekend. Her husband is at another huge art festival in Santa Fe selling her art, so he couldn't travel with her and help her during the show here. That means that Studly's parental units had to drive five hours from Brownsville (FAR south Texas) up to Austin, pick up Sister and her wares, and drive four and a half more hours to Dallas to check in at Casa de Castro.

While I was at the grocery store last night at about 9:40, they arrived. Which was after we'd returned from my parents' 55th anniversary dinner/party thingy that I planned. Which was after I got home from the dentist. Which was after I broke a tooth by chewing my night guard in half. Which was after Studly spent three hours on his hands and knees or a ladder frantically trying to get blood (lots o' blood) off the walls, ceiling and just-professionally-cleaned-seven-days-ago carpet before his family arrived for the weekend. Which was after Shiloh sliced her tail and then wagged it briskly for say, oh, an hour or more while no one was home, slinging blood all.over.the.place. Which was after Studly delivered his brand spanking new project to his potential first buyer. Which was after a very long and sleepless night preparing for the delivery of said new project. Which was after a spat we had over who would unload the dishwasher. Which was after I spilled a half gallon of milk on the freshly mopped floor.

This was in a 24-hour-period.

There's SO much more for the previous 48 hours, but my fingers are tired. Use your imagination.

Why? WHY are we delighted that we had such a horrendous week? We've learned a simple truth.

satan (yes, not capitalized on purpose) doesn't waste his time attacking where God is not at work. Why would he? If there is no threat that God's kingdom will be added unto, glorified, honored or built up, satan will focus his efforts elsewhere.

God must have really big plans in store for this weekend....

We're rejoicing. We weren't earlier in the week because we'd had a momentary lapse of reason, but we are now.

Please remember our team and the kids we'll minister to in your prayers.

This day in history

2008-06-12T14:00:00.001-05:00

Exactly 55 years ago today, two amazing people pledged their lives to one another forever.

Last night as I sat at the dinner table talking to them, I learned something I'd never heard before. Part of the story I knew, but there was one BIG piece I'd never known.

Dad was in college on a naval ROTC scholarship and as such, he had to go on a six-week midshipman's cruise. Mom was "back home," and though she loved him, she feared her high school romance might not be "the one" she should commit to forever. She was young and hadn't dated too many others, and she felt she needed to make sure she wasn't going to make a mistake. While he was at sea, she dated a little. Nothing serious, just general "getting to know you" types of dates.

At one point while Dad was away, she wrote him a "Dear John" letter, which is funny considering his name is, well... John. She has always said she knew before the letter hit the bottom of the mailbox, it was a mistake. She could only trust that IF this relationship was meant to be, the letter wouldn't matter.

Dad got the letter. Dad ignored what it said.

Smart man!

When his ship returned, he got his pay and spent everything he had on her engagement ring. All he could think of was getting to her. He had no money. He was Norfolk, Virginia at the naval base, and she was at home in Roanoke, Virginia. How did he get there?

He hitchhiked.

For 200 miles.

He didn't even go to his own home to see his family after six weeks at sea. He went to her home.

When he got there, her mother told him she wasn't home because....

SHE

WAS

OUT

ON

A

DATE.

On.a.date.

With someone else.

Being very sure of himself and his intention, he opted to stay there and wait for her.

To come home.

From her date.

With someone else.

That absolutely cracked me up when I heard that last night!

And yes, it was meant to be.

Happy 55th, Mom and Dad. I love you both more than words can say. You have set the bar high and given your daughters a most excellent model of a Christian marriage. Thank you for loving each other right.in.front.of.us. Thank you honoring and respecting each other. Thank you for being faithful to your vows and to our Lord.

This girl is glad an ill-conceived "Dear John" letter missed its mark.

1953
2008

Windblown Puppies

2008-06-10T22:48:00.006-05:00

Ever seen a little dog in a wind tunnel before?

Me either.

But here's what I imagine it would look like.

This is Samson in the 35+ mph wind gusts we had last week. Studly and I were laughing so hard at him, we had to take pictures. Unfortunately, the REALLY funny ones are so blurry, you can't even tell it's a dog!

He looks like a hamster!
Hey! Who turned out the lights?
Who keeps doing that?
My eyelids are going to turn inside out!

He couldn't figure out what was happening to his tail. He was walking in front of me, and every time a gust would come up, he'd turn around and glare at me (yes, dogs can glare) as if to say, "Will you STOP doing THAT?"

We shouldn't make fun of our pups. But hey... if we don't, who will?

God and the US Postal Service - Part Three

2008-06-06T21:32:00.005-05:00

Part one of the story can be found here.
Part two is here.

Several days later we were in our Sunday School class, and without mentioning names, Studly Man told the story of what had transpired with Jeff. There was much rejoicing, especially among those who had been praying with us about God's direction for our ministry. However, there was one couple who didn't seem to be quite as joyful as the others. No one noticed but me, but I certainly DID notice. No one else in the room (except Studly) knew what I knew.

You see, the two people I was watching were the couple who had SENT the donation check and affirming letter. I couldn't figure out why their faces didn't light up when they heard how God had orchestrated so many details as a result of their gift. All I could do was pray...

After class, the wife in this couple approached me. She asked - knowing the answer in advance - if the letter and envelope Studly had talked about had come from her home. I confirmed it had. Her face was red, but not with embarrassment as I first thought. It was frustration, and maybe even a little anger. I told her Studly had shared the story not to embarrass them, but to highlight the miracles God performed in getting that envelope to its intended destination. God doesn't NEED us to accomplish His will. He works it out in spite of us!

It was a while later when I began to understand the magnitude of that conversation. She and her husband were newlyweds at that time and still struggling with the communication game for marriage. She had written the letter and made out the check. She had carefully placed them in the envelope, written the parts of the address she could remember off the top of her head, and placed a stamp on it. She put it with the other outgoing mail for her husband to drop off at the post office. He glanced only briefly at it. He figured if she'd gotten all the way to the point of putting the stamp on the envelope, it must be ready to go. She assumed he'd notice the holes in the address and fill them in. He assumed she had completely addressed the envelope.
A spotlight was now shining on a critical issue in their marriage: they weren't communicating very well! They were frustrated and headed down a rocky path.

We as believers know how satan (and yes, I meant for that to have a lower case "s" because the enemy doesn't deserve capitalization) prowls like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. That includes Christian marriages. If satan can gain a foothold, he will tear apart a marriage. Communication is an easy target.

Thankfully this precious couple has made great strides in learning each other's language and how to communicate more effectively. The Lord has blessed them individually and corporately, and they in turn, have continued to bless others including Studly and me and Faithful Friend Ministry.

Now, two and a half years later, I am amazed when I look back on that letter and check and how God used it so obviously in the lives of five of His children. The bigger picture though is how He used the contents of that envelope to bring hope to hundreds of hurting, broken, desperate teenagers in prison who had never known true and abiding unconditional love and had never been given any real hope. Through the contents of that envelope, many have heard the Truth for the first time, and many others have come to a saving knowledge of and personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

Now tell me how one could believe that God is too busy to be bothered with details.

God and the US Postal Service - Part Two

2008-06-05T21:02:00.003-05:00

If you missed Part One, check it out here.

Fast forward several months. Since Studly's business is home-based, he was often able to invite Jeff in for a glass of iced tea when he'd see him out on his route. We'd also occasionally see Jeff at church - not that he was only occasionally there, but that we go to a BIG church, and it's easy to miss seeing friends from week to week, especially if they attend services at a different hour. When we'd see him, we knew he was struggling. Depression was nagging at his heels, and he missed Melanie terribly. He was fighting the urge to fall into old patterns of behavior. He was in a great class, surrounded by believers who loved him, encouraged him, and also remembered sweet Melanie. He found solace there.

One day, Studly Man went to the mailbox in front of our house. We don't get much mail there because the prison system strongly suggests never giving one's home address as prisoners WILL come visit you upon release. We have a post office box for ministry, and we use that for personal bills, etc. for the additional safety and prevention against theft of credit card or banking information. So our home mailbox usually only takes in birthday or Christmas cards from family or very close friends or sales circulars from local businesses.

Imagine Studly's surprise when he found an envelope addressed to Faithful Friends, our street NAME, but no house number, the city and state, but no zip code. There was no return address anywhere on the envelope. A note in Jeff's handwriting was attached to the front. It said:

"Les, if anyone else had come across this letter, it would have ended up in the dead letter file. I am your FAITHFUL FRIEND in Christ, Jeff."

The implication was that there is no "faithful" ANYTHING registered on our residential street. Another mail carrier would not have been able to put the pieces of the Faithful Friend name and our street name together to know its intended destination. But GOD ordained it for JEFF to be the one who sorted mail that morning, and the letter found its home.

What was IN that letter you ask?

A check to the ministry for over $11,000 and a beautiful, affirming letter from a precious couple who desired not only to be obedient to God in their giving, but also to support the work of Faithful Friend Ministry. Studly was blown away. That was the biggest donation we'd ever received with the single exception of a grant from a non-profit foundation, and it came at a time when we'd been asking the Lord whether or not we were to continue in prison ministry. What a confirmation!

When Studly was finally able to catch his breath, he decided to call Jeff to tell him what was inside the letter he had worked so hard to deliver. Studly called Jeff on his cell phone as it was only about 4:00 in the afternoon, and he suspected Jeff might still be on his route. He was right. Studly read the letter to Jeff and told him about the check.

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

Jeff had pulled over to the side of the road to regain his composure.

After a long moment, Jeff said, "I needed that today. I REALLY needed that. I don't know if you realize what the date is, but tomorrow is the first anniversary of my wife's death. It has been a really hard week. I didn't want to go back to my old bad habits [drugs and alcohol] to help deal with the pain. Instead I'd been thinking about killing myself. I needed to hear that God has me right where He wants me and that He can still use this broken, hurting man. Thank you. Thank you for calling to tell me what was in the letter."

Who says God isn't in the details? He is intimately acquainted with all our ways, and He loves us. He loves us more than we could ever imagine, even when He seems so far away. And He knows our needs. He is never late and never too early in delivering exactly what we need.

Jeff's life changed that day. So did the way Studly and I look at the gift and responsibility of ministry.

If THAT were the end of the story, it'd be a good story wouldn't it? It isn't! There's still more... all tied to this letter and how an all-knowing, omnipresent God IS in the details. Come back tomorrow for part three!

God and the US Postal Service

2008-06-04T19:00:00.001-05:00

Ever wonder if God still wants to be intimately involved in every detail of His kids' lives? Sit back and relax, and let me tell you a story.

Studly Man and I met while working with a juvenile prison ministry. Later, the Lord blessed us with a ministry of our own, and since that time, we've been on one. amazing. journey.

One of our sweet volunteers was sitting behind a couple in church one particular Sunday morning. Angela recognized something in the wife of the couple that tugged at her heart strings. Melanie was quite obviously suffering the effects of chemotherapy and was likely in the battle of her life. Angela's mother had suffered this way years before, and the memories were painful. After the service concluded, Angela tapped Melanie on the shoulder and introduced herself. In the months that followed, Angela ministered to Melanie and Jeff, her husband, and their two teenaged daughters in ways few would have thought to employ. Jeff's job with the US Postal Service provided good insurance, but it wasn't enough to meet all of their expenses. The tangible help Angela gave them was secondary only to the spiritual encouragement she lavished on them.

Jeff and Melanie were deeply in love, and their marriage had weathered many storms, including Jeff's addiction to drugs and alcohol. Melanie's condition was terminal, and Jeff was struggling to find meaning in what God was allowing to happen in his life. He hung on every word he heard at church and from new friends who loved him with the love of Christ. Melanie's faith was strong, and her witness to her husband was powerful.

After months of fighting, Melanie went home to be with Jesus. Jeff was devastated. Lost, really. Angela continued to encourage him. One day she told him she thought his testimony would be a powerful tool of the Lord to minister to the young men (and women) who were incarcerated. He listened with interest as she shared of her experiences inside the prison walls.

A few month's after Melanie's death, Jeff planned to join our team and go into the local prison with us. Because training is required for every new volunteer, Studly made plans to meet with Jeff at the church to conduct the training. The meeting went well, and Jeff was ready to go.

Even with Melanie's passing so very fresh, he stood before those young men and shared his story, his heart, and his tears. They listened to every word with respect and compassion (an unusual occurrence with incarcerated teens) and clapped with enthusiasm when he finished. One by one, they filed by to shake his hand, share their condolences, and thank him personally for coming - in the midst of his grief - to minister to them. He was moved, and he was encouraged.

At the end of the event, Jeff walked over to where Studly stood with Shiloh. Jeff studied her face carefully and then looked at Studly. He said, "You live on 'ABC' Street, don't you?" Studly was shocked. "Well, yes, I do. How did you know?" he asked. With a huge grin, Jeff said, "Your dog barks at me every day. I'm your postman." Studly called me over, and we all laughed at how God weaves the threads of our lives together for His purpose, even when we're completely unaware.

If that was the end of the story, it'd be a pretty good one. It isn't the end. It's only the beginning. Come back tomorrow for the next installment. You'll laugh out loud or maybe cry with how amazing our God is and how He much He cares about us.