"Self-Check Out"

I have hated them.

I hate the new "Self Check Out" stands cropping up at my area grocery stores and retailers.

At first, I was enticed. Some of us, I think, have a little curiosity as to the mysterious role of the checker at the market. It's facinating to hear the beeps, marvel at the bar codes and to wonder if you had to; could you beat your checker in a check-out race?

These things should be outlawed.

First of all, due to the world in which we live, there is rightful concern on the part of the stores that someone will take advantage of the system and try to steal from them. So the machines are hyper-sensitive and prone to flash the red light above your station indicating that an idiot is trying to check out. I've had more conversation with the "Self Check Out" attendants than any checker who did the work for me in the past.

Secondly they are an absolute magnet for kids...who like you, wonder all the above things about the mysterious role of grocery store checker. They cannot wait to be the one to scan the things by their barcodes, hear the beep and push buttons on the touchscreen to complete the transaction.

Everytime I've been lured to those blasted things, I've regretted it.

Today was no exception...

I was trying to check out with 3 items + 4 kids = the idiot alarm being sounded 4 times!

The scale is so sensitive, that any toddlers fingers can set off the light. The magic eye thingy that reads the barcode easily scans things twice when you're trying to break up some hand to hand combat between 2 year olds, again setting off the idiot alarm. Then, inevitably, something rings up incorrectly so I HAVE TO ASK FOR FURTHER ASSISTANCE, to clear up the problem.

Everytime I've been lured...I've regretted it...everytime...

I'm swearing it off...no more self-check out...or else I'll likely be self checking IN to a mental institution!

Houston...we have a problem...

Something serious is happening.

I first noticed it about 10 months ago. I was concerned, but not alarmed. Things just weren't what they used to be. Subtle changes have become more substantial.

When did I need make-up? I mean, really need it? And, what is happening with this hair of mine? I used to like it...others commented about it...now most of the time, I could be a hair double for Medusa!

Today, I was just minding my own business, thinking random thoughts. Thoughts that I thought before my first gray hair. And I caught my image in the rear view mirror...I thought...who is that aging woman? It couldn't be me. It just couldn't be me because sometimes I still think I'm 16...that woman...Medusa's inspiration...that COULD NOT be me!

My face is registering time. I have lines that remain long after I smile...highlights that aren't blond... I've got issues at the edges of my eyes...I think my skin may be sliding.

When does my mind feel like my face looks?

Truth is, no one will ever mistake me for someone young again.

I think this is the point at which I'm supposed to feel proud of those lines, the gray hairs that continue to invade and the gravitationally compliant skin. When I was 16 or 22 or 29 did I know such joy as now?

And, as it appears inevitable that this face is going to show wear...I better get comfortable in it...I want to be happy in the skin I'll be wearing in 10, 20, 50 years.

My grandma. She lived life and it showed on the canvas of her skin. She always smelled flowery, of Dove soap. A real lady. Spunky, feisty and so independent. She lived a long life...and finally grew into the story of her skin.

Now that's what I'm talking about...

The Lady in the Street

He's back from India.

Jet lag is a real drag...but he's here...safe.

I thought it was a real hardship...being a single parent for 12 days. I know, those of you who have lived that, who have that merit badge for single parenting are laughing at me now..."she thinks that was a hardship?"

There were times last week when I even felt a little sorry for myself. Leaving the microphone, starting new work, and he wasn't even here.

He brought back lots of pictures, some 1400 of them. But there's just one that I can't get out of my mind. The lady in the street. Sitting in the street, begging, her son curled up and sleeping with his head on her lap.

Of course, I don't know if he was sleeping...I assumed, because I'm an American who thinks that doing without a husband for 12 days is a real hardship. Maybe he wasn't sleeping at all, he was just too weak, too hungry to sit up next to her and beg.

My husband apologized for the resolution of the photograph...he said it didn't fully tell the story. He was riding in a bus and shot the picture through the glass.

You see, the picture didn't capture the tears that he saw streaming down her cheeks...sitting in the middle of the road...her son's head in her lap.

I'm not mad at myself for not understanding. For not being able to relate to what that life would be like...sitting IN THE STREET...weeping...begging...with a child huddled next to me...how could I?

In this country, we get mad about noisy neighbors who don't weed their flower beds. We're irate over some comment that a pinhead in Hollywood has made. We're so frustrated with slow moving traffic that causes us to be in our climate controlled vehicle for a few more minutes. We're busy navel gazing about how we're unfulfilled and wonder when it will be time for "us."

How could we relate? The abundance in which we live is like the novacaine my dentist uses before he drills on my teeth. The more the abundance, the less I feel anything...especially compassion and connection with an unfortunate woman weeping in the street on the other side of the world.

If I had been there...If I had seen her...maybe I would have gotten down in the dirt with her and told her about how difficult my life has been lately...cause its just not easy to make a major job change and have a husband away for 12 days!

Would I ever have anything to say to her?

Maybe I'll just delete the picture...and go back to worrying about that car repair that needs to be done...now that's a real pain...

Kids Say the Darndest Things

"Momma, I luz you, luz you, luz you. You gives me a kiss, right now Momma, you gives me a kiss." - 2 year old

"I like it that you're home in the afternoons now. If I need you... to find out about something, I don't have to wait." - 7 year old

"You come with me Momma...watch movie...you so fun Momma" - 2 year old

"When I grow up, I'm gonna be a princess...with 8 children... I'll probably be a doctor....(Laughing a big stage laugh) Oh, Excuse me, I've got to go see my husband now...oh could you stay with my baby...her name is "Ciarina"(?)...she was just born." - one drama-prone 4 year old.

All these in *one* afternoon......a slice of life.

Posting a Comment

Some of you have emailed me to let me know that you're having trouble figuring out how to post a comment to the blog for publishing.

SO.....

Post your comment in the comment box and choose an identity. You can create your own identity with a screen name you develop, or you can use the anonymous designation then post a name within the text of your comment.

Then you'll need to enter the series of letters in the verification box (it's a safety requirement to protect from computer generated comments), then submit your comment. It will tell you that the blog administrator, or some title like that, will publish your comment to the blog once its approved.

Good news....no one's been bounced, yet!

So try it out! Its so great to hear from those who are reading...

Releasing it all....

Its been a trying week.

Two weeks ago I stood in church, my dearest hubby by my side, and I knew the week ahead was going to be a challenge. As the music played and we sang songs of worship, I began to weep. Now, you must know, I'm not a big time weeper...except for that final broadcast thing...but there I stood, tears streaming down my cheeks. The next day I was going to announce, on air, that I was leaving the microphone. Within a few days, my precious husband would be traveling around the world to follow a dream that God had given him. As I stood there, unable to sing, giving my sacrifice of willingness...of the release of so many things I hold dear...I realized, I was releasing elements of my core, my identity... to a greater plan.

I asked myself, "Do I trust Him?" My answer? An aching, "yes"

A few times this week I thought of that decision to release and to trust...reminded myself..."I have released this"...

Yesterday I received news about a friend in Florida. Last year we shared a precious time together. Our families traveled throughout China together and we were present when each received their new children for adoption. Yesterday this beautiful, young, mom of 5 told me she has breast cancer. They've caught it early, her prognosis is good and she has many intercessing for her.

I can't get her out of my mind, or her children, or her dear husband.

So as I sit here and muse about life, my friend's situation reminds me that all of life is about releasing and trusting.

Gathering up and holding tight to all of my blessings will only serve to strangle the life giving sustanence from them.

Control is an illusion. And for me...that's a bummer...'cause I want to be in control...always.

Whether we long to be masters over our money, children, relationships or our health...that striving for mastery is folly. Surely we can do what we can and we should be judicious with all these things. But ultimately, no one can control these things. Those who operate under the illusion of control will undoubtedly feel the sting of cosmic correction at some time in their life.

I resolve to, as best I am able, to release that desperate clutching compulsion for control into the hands of Him who is greater.

Is the heart of the skeptic, the unbeliever, plagued with fear to release? Here I know Him...and still I wrestle the fear.

Yet, I know the peace that passes all understanding. I trust Him with all these core issues; my identity...the safety of those I adore...and the mortality of those who face affliction.

Reminding myself of this...now I feel ready for slumber...

Mommy...Are we in trouble?

A simple enough question. My response? A firm, "Be quiet." Textbook parenting.

Things are a little crazy. Nevermind that I've left the radio, my husband is doing relief work in India and we've had weather usually relegated to the Yukon...I've got car trouble!

Cars...for me, definitely a love/hate relationship. When I first got rolling in my 1980 Grey Nissan Sentra in 1985, life was good. I could load an unbelievable number of bodies in that little tin can and I was cool. Fast forward 20 (ouch!) years, I'm rolling in a 1997 Raspberry Ice Suburban. Really rollin'. My mom calls it the "Estrogen Express" given the gender make-up of the passengers.

I love the big rig in the Yukon style weather. But, we've developed a few snags in the operation. You see, the defroster fan...well, it's not working. I think its the switch to turn it on that needs attention, but whatever it is, the net result is fogged windows or an icing windshield.

Last night after being coddled by some friends who had us over for dinner, we loaded up for the trip "over the river and through the woods." Imagine my surprise to add to the list of issues the big rig is facing that now the windshield wipers were making a moaning, painful, burning sort of sound and were not 'windshield wiping' as they are supposed to do. So, I've got a car, loaded with heavy-breathing girlies, no defroster fan and now the windshield wipers sound like a cow in labor!

At every intersection, I would stop, manually force the wipers to make a pass across the windshield then get in and get moving on any lightly traveled road I could. Lightly traveled because, an unfortunate by product of rain drops on the windshield and fogged windows, is total lack of visibility if one meets an oncoming car's lights.

So we made it home at 15 MPH. With the occasional "Mommy, are we in trouble?" or the rise and fall of the sound of extemporaneous songs, shrieking and altercations in the back....

I'm not nearly as plucky as I fancy myself to be...

Are You Out There?

Glad you found me...

This is not unlike when I began my radio career 6 years ago. I sat in that studio, my heart beating out of my chest, totally uncertain if anyone was listening...some of you were. Miraculously, some of you stayed. And today, I walked away from it all.

Tonight I begin writing a new blog, so we can stay in touch...are any of you out there?

So many calls and emails, some saying they felt as though they were losing a dear friend. My heart is heavy tonight knowing that some of you are sad. Truthfully, I'm sad too. But, I'm excited as well, excited for this new adventure the Lord is leading me upon. A little scared wondering if the significance I've had in some of your lives will now be over. Will, after a little time, what we shared each day from 4-6 be forgotten?

So many mixed emotions.

Through this departure from my show I've heard wonderful things about you. I know that some of you have truly taken to heart that your life is not a dress rehearsal. I've heard of many families beginning adoption processes! Many of you have begun to volunteer and share your gifts with others. Still more of you have said you're a little less fearful of change. Some of you asked for prayer as you face a choice like I've made...to follow where God is leading, even though it seems adventurous and uncertain.

When I pushed open the sliding glass door tonight I was greeted by squeals and shrieks of "Momma's Home"! My 7 year old hugged my neck and said "no more afternoons apart!" I squeezed her tightly and tried to push away the bittersweet of turning off my microphone tonight.

What will I feel like tomorrow at 4? Perhaps I'm just a little melancholy tonight, but I'm worried about it...someone else will be speaking in my timeslot...and I can't go back.

But I will make phone calls tomorrow. I will schedule more performances for the Ugandan Orphans Choir, and I will know that there are children waiting in difficult places in the world, waiting for US sponsors to care enough to lift them out of poverty. It's an uncertain future, but in the words of Childcare Worldwide's Peru director, Alwin Rahmel: "We all must do what we can for the children."

Tomorrow a new day dawns, no more radio host...just a woman doing what I can for the children.

I'll keep writing, if you'll keep reading. Let me hear your comments. I need feedback!