Your Life is not a Dress Rehearsal...

The single life...

2007-08-22T11:53:00.000-07:00

One more thought that kept rattling around in my head during my recent business trip without the family....

As I am a people-watcher...I, well, watch people...all the time...

Often I make up stories in my head about the people I watch.

But the thought was constantly in my mind as I watched the hurried, harried travelers this past weekend...how many of them are lonely?

This culture tells us that kids are burdens. That to be single and free is the ultimate lifestyle...you know....nothing to tie you down...

But I was so thankful for my family...as I missed them so...my life is so full of love...

I am, if you say burdened...then blessed overwhelmingly with my "burdens"

Traveling Solo

2007-08-22T11:41:00.000-07:00

Had a very strange experience...

I traveled withOUT my kids and dearest hubby last weekend.

I had to go to take care of some business in the South with the choir I manage so I was up early on Friday, leaving home at 5 am. Traveling by shuttle to the airport got me there 2 hours prior to my flight. Then...the dreaded words came after a 1 hour delay..."Flight XXX has been canceled" Gotta love it...

I was re-booked on another airline for a flight 3.5 hours later (for those of you keeping score at home...that amounts to 6.5 hours of chill time in the airport.) They lost my bag, of course, and I was without a change of underwear...but something else was strange...

I had no children with me.

Professional business travelers when faced with the above scenario get ticked...some, red hot mad. While traveling with our entire brood, such news would have nearly caused me to stroke...but alone, in the airport....now that was interesting...

I was entirely self-absorbed. I did computer work. Read a book nearly through. Went to the bathroom whenever I needed to. Chose the "restaurant" where I purchased my breakfast and lunch. Cut no one's food up. Completely zoned out for periods of time...looking at nothing....thinking about nothing. Played a computer game on my laptop. It was amazing...

And the joy...no, the peace I experienced during this "disaster" of a traveling day revealed some truth in my life...

When a day stranded in the airport...seems that it is as pleasurable as a day at the spa...

You've got a hectic life...

Fair Time...with my family...

2007-08-14T20:08:00.000-07:00

It's been six years since I could share the local fair with MY family.

I've spent the last six years broadcasting live from the fair, a radio talk show. And, telling the truth, for the first several years...I loved it. It was great fun to see people, to listen to them and then to use them as show material.

But today...a rare treat...I was exclusively at the fair...with my kids. We took leisurely walks through the animal barns, sat aimlessly watching a magic show, enjoyed obscure sights and sounds and just ENJOYED the fair.

What a joy. What a joy!

Life is so often too busy...rushed...adrenaline our fuel of choice...but not today...

Had a long time listener see me. She inquired of my non-radio life and she said...

"You look so healthy...so rested...like you're really ENJOYING yourself..."

Yeah...you can say that again...How could I not?

...these are the good days...

Conflict...does it make the world go 'round?

2007-08-05T22:22:00.000-07:00

I've been pondering some deep thoughts recently.

Okay...not deep for any of you Mensa cardholding readers...but deep for me.

Conflict, as constant as the sunrise and it's setting.

Yet, as Westerners...we mask conflict and the anxiety it creates with all sorts of tools. Anyone for a cigarette? Too uncouth now? How about a drink? Would you feel better if you just went shopping and bought something new for your home or your closet? A nice dinner out with a big, decadent dessert?

Maybe the "feeling" of conflict is only afforded those of us who have little concern for anything vital...abundant food, medicine, clean drinking water...many children no doubt think that water has always come from the tap at the sink...not the river. We've got no crucial, survival things to worry about...so we can mull over offenses and miscommunications.

Many of us will do anything to avoid conflict. We lie to ourselves...to others...

"Its really not that bad"..."No really, I'm not upset with you"..."I'll just get over it with a little distance."

But living life, a life where you're in the present, takes courage to face it.

Just reflecting on the past week there's been a fair amount of conflict and each time a choice to make. To live in the present, to feel the anxiety and yet to push through it and face up or to avoid it...anyway I can.

There's that moment, when the conflict is close and personal, when you're emotions can lead you to rage or tears...and it takes intent to maintain control. To choose the correct words, ones that you'll not regret, not unduly hurtful...but still honest...on point.

Does it ever get easier?

Because as a Westerner...the most intellegent question I can muster is...does it ever get easier?

Easy does it...right?

The Sunday Night Swap

2007-07-23T22:32:00.000-07:00

I've seen it in two different parking lots around my home here lately.

On Sunday evening....about 6 pm...two cars pull up to parallel spots at the end of the parking lot. In the spots far removed from the store.

They're not there to shop, they're certainly not there for fun...they're there to fulfill a court-ordered arrangement...the child swap...

Sometimes the cars have other passengers in them...the new wife or boyfriend...the "exes" meet out back near the trunk where they hand off the offspring.

I'm drawn to it.

The human drama of a kid's life when he swapped from one house to the next... He hugs tightly the departing parent...obviously unwilling to let go...but he has no vote...definately not the age of majority...

I lived it.

I'm not a particulary "navel gazing" type. If I spent too much time thinking about the deep marks left by the shoes of the past on my soul...I'd have to deal with it...I'd rather not.

Clearly...I'm not in touch with a therapist...

Yet, this drama lived out in parking lots around my home grabs me at tender spot...and I experience some some sort of foundational memory...that stirs me powerfully...like my very identity is scraped again by the rake of "disfunctionality."

I'm not pious or delusional about divorce...it could happen to the best marriage...even mine...

But somewhere in the "Mommy and Daddy want to do what is best for you, even though we don't live together anymore" I felt like merchandise...swapped in the grocery store parking lot...

...Every Sunday night...

There's a BARBIE in OUR HOUSE?

2007-07-16T23:46:00.000-07:00

My 5 year old exclaimed today..."there's a BARBIE in OUR HOUSE?"

It was so funny that my darling husband and I busted out with involuntary laughter.

Perhaps you don't understand why this is so funny? Ah...you see...

We are a BARBIE FREE home. At least we used to be.

While I know that in itself makes our home bizarre...I've endured many barbs about our Barbie Free policy...but I've remained firm in my resolve...until...

Last summer when we traveled to China and stayed at the legendary White Swan Hotel in Guangzhou, we received, as everyone does, the "Going Home Barbie." Specially produced by Mattel, the "Going Home Barbie" is for adoptive families. Barbie, blond and impossibly built as usual is attired in a short little skirt, equally as impossible high-heels and a Chinese Baby.

I know quite a few adoptive families. As yet, I haven't seen one mother who looks like Barbie. But you see, that's what brings me back to my disdain for her. No one looks like her that hasn't been either surgically enhanced or digitally remastered.

I'm saying Adoption Barbie should look like many of us adoptive moms...desperately in need of a manicure (who can afford them after paying for the adoption costs), in good walking shoes (chasing after 1 toddler is tough...but for some of us adoptive families...try 3 or more) and in an ample skirt (because many of us eat chocolate for the final weeks of stress waiting for our Travel Approvals!)

So today my 7 year old found the "Going Home Barbie" and was dancing around with it. This is largely because we have never had a Barbie in the home. Periodically the question comes up from one of my kids "Mom, why don't we play with Barbies?" And I drone on with my cerebral explanation that "Barbie is anatomically impossible." "I don't want you girls to think that the ideal woman looks like Barbie." "You're beautiful and capable just the way God made you, whether a brunette or short, etc" Truthfully, I'm in touch with the reality that all they hear is "WE DON'T ALLOW BARBIE HERE. WE HATE BARBIE."

So imagine the utter disbelief in the voice of my 5 year old as she stumbled out of bed this morning and beheld with her unfocused eyes... A BARBIE in the hands of her sister....INSIDE her home! She exclaimed in the most curious, amazed and dumbfounded fashion...."There's a BARBIE in OUR HOUSE?"

Note to self...find a new resting place for Going Home Barbie...sleeping with the fishes?

I Said I'd Never Own a Mini-Van

2007-07-15T23:05:00.000-07:00

Yeah...well...

When the dear husband and I first married, I laughed, heartily, at any suggestion of a minivan in my future. It was a shocked, throw your head back, scoff indignantly..."I'm far too cool"...sort of response. I saw minivans as wholly too grounded, too common for the future I had in store.

Was it my mother who said..."Never say Never, Dear!"?

Today, as we await our final travel authorization to adopt the latest in our string of blessings, otherwise known as kids...we went vehicle "looking." I should add at this moment that I lost my minivan innocence about 8 years ago now. Truly, I loved my minivan. In a possessive, "you satisfy my every need" way. I had not only compromised from my staunch position of disdain for the minivan...I now cherished one.

But, as we await child number 7, the minivan is not sufficient. It leaves much to be desired. There's not enough room, not a big enough engine for the weight its pulling around and the children are growing in size and number!

So today, we began vehicle "looking" for the "mothership." Literally. The mothership...as I have come to know it ...is a 12 passenger, 1 ton, Maxivan. Nigh only one year ago the darling husband tried to get me to consider the Maxivan...but I laughed...strangely reminiscent of days gone by when discussing the minivan. But today...I am ready for the mothership...I sat in the captain's chair tonight gazing back over the 2,3 no 4 rows of seats and imagined just how many times I would curb those tires. I considered how I may have missed my calling as a public transit driver or a friendly school bus driver...now...I'm readying myself to pilot my very own mothership. Gone are any and all concerns about being "cool." Now I want all that space so I can silence the "She touched me!!!!" screams from the vehicle!

I think I'm falling in love again...

Need a ride?

"Self-Check Out"

2007-01-28T21:35:00.000-08:00

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...

2007-01-25T22:42:00.000-08:00

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

2007-01-24T23:21:00.000-08:00

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

2007-01-24T23:03:00.000-08:00

"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

2007-01-22T22:12:00.000-08:00

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....

2007-01-20T23:25:00.000-08:00

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?

2007-01-18T09:30:00.000-08:00

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?

2007-01-16T22:59:00.000-08:00

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!