Terrific Kid

Today my niece Isabella got an award from the Kiwanis Club in Woodbury. (She's the one in the front of the picture.) She was named one of her school's Terrific Kids. The Kiwanis honor two children from each grade who help in the classroom, who do their homework, who add to the overall community of the school. I had the opportunity to attend the ceremony.

I have to admit. When I left the house, I had a bit of an attitude. It's not that I don't love the kids, but one would think that their parents would make an effort to attend these events.

But, I got to thinking. Let's be honest. I don't know if I'm ever going to have kids. I don't know if I'm ever going to get married. (This is not a pity-me post...I'm fine with not getting married and not having kids if that is what God would prefer.) But I have the opportunity to be a part of my niece and nephews' lives on a daily level. What other aunt goes to every little league game, choir and band concert, kindergarten graduation, pre-school plays? Not too many.

As I was walking home, God reminded me of this scripture in Isaiah 54:1.
"Sing, O barren woman,
you who never bore a child;
burst into song, shout for joy,
you who were never in labor;
because more are the children of the desolate woman
than of her who has a husband,"
says the LORD.

Looking at my life, I do have more children than just about anyone who has given birth. It is a privilege to know so many people, and to love them as I do.

So, I am the aunt to three Terrific Kids, even though only one received the official honor this month. And I count myself blessed!

Lessons learned by the Grinch

Well, tonight was my first Sanctuary Christmas party. I learned a few valuable lessons that will not leave my memory for a long time, and I have some thoughts about life in general that I think it's time to divulge.

First of all, I learned not to have a bad attitude about games. If you do, you will be labeled The Grinch. Literally. You'll have to wear the tag on your back and then on your arm. For the whole night.

Secondly, I learned that calories cannot and must not be considered real on the night of a gathering of the people of The Sanctuary. I thought that I did pretty well with my eating tonight. However, I am avoiding sharp objects at all costs because I'm afraid that if I come into contact with a sharp object that I may pop.

I think that the person who invented the chocolate fountain is evil incarnate. Who can resist flowing chocolate? If you are one of the ten people in the world who don't like chocolate, shame on you :-) Seriously, though. If you add together the flowing chocolate and the handmade marshmallows, you have a PMS dream come true. (Sorry gentlemen. But...yeah...it's true.)

Seriously. I've been to some church functions involving food. But I've never been to a function where the people brought so much food that two trays of food were thrown in the trash. Usually people bring a bit of this and that. But at The Sanctuary, we all bring enough food to feed the entire clan. Oh yeah. Did I mention that all of the food was out of this world??? Usually I find something about which I can complain, because I am a food snob. Not tonight.

I was so apprehenisve about going to the party. I always have anxiety about being in groups of people. I love people, but I'm not good at small talk and mingling. I'm just not a good mingler. But tonight was awesome. God has placed me in such a great group of people. Quirky, funny, caring, generous, compassionate.

I thank God for The Sanctuary. I've said it before, and I'll probably say it a million more times. It is what I always thought church could be, but never thought it would be.

Elementary school choir concert

Last night I took a walk down memory lane. My oldest nephew had his first holiday concert. He's in the choir this year.

It was really interesting to watch the kids. For some of the kids, it was their moment to shine, their one great moment that they will remember for the rest of their time on earth. For others, it was apparent that their parents forced them on stage...either to fulfill a parent's dream of for the already looming college applications. For yet others, this was just an annoyance...they knew that this was merely one instant in their lives. They were doing it to do it, but they knew that there was much more to life.

I think that we're doing a good job with Isaac. He joined choir because he wanted to. But, he's already had so many shining moments that this is just one more added to his adolescence.

It was hilarious to see him attempting to sway back and forth in time. And to snap in time. I forgot what dumb things the choir teacher requires of kids to keep things "interesting."

Isaac told me, "Neen-Neen, I saw you crying." I told him, "Oh no, Isaac. I wasn't crying boohoo. I was laughing so hard at you that I was crying." But that wasn't 100% true. I did cry emotional tears. Just like I do when I go to all of their events. I'm just so dang proud of those knucklehead kids. I love 'em so much it hurts.

Breakfast

What do you get when you put a Lutheran, a Wiccan, a lone ranger Christian, a Unitarian and an evangelical at a table? Breakfast at my house the day after Thanksgiving. Yes...it was interesting.

Yesterday we avoided the hot-button topics. We were on guard. When my grandmother declared that she can't stand Billy Graham because "he preaches at her" we pretended not to hear and moved forward. We didn't even make fun of her, which was tough.

Today we walked in full throttle. Here is the list of characters:

• My aunt's boyfriend is a Lutheran. He believes in "high church" and thinks that anything that does not have a liturgical book is "entertainment Christianity."
• My aunt prays to the great spirit. At one point she declared herself a wiccan.
• My mother has been hurt by the church (and vicariously through my hurts from the church) and believes that "as long as you have the Holy Spirit" you are fine.
• My father believes that all religions are the same and essentially "we all pray to the same god."
• I believe that if you call upon the name of Jesus and repent for your sins, then you are saved.

How can one person address so many issues sitting at a table when the other four people are ready to pounce in unity? Well, I did what any decent person would do. I walked away. Noone at that table was ready to listen to any point that I would have made, let alone concede the point. Frankly, I'm the only person with whom I could have had a constructive conversation was with Paul, the Lutheran. But it was not the right time.

You see, there are much deeper heart issues to all of these ideologies (mine included) that cannot be discussed productively in a group setting. When I walked away, God showed me some of the issues. Once again, He's given me the tools...the issues through which I can pray for each individual. Instead of engaging in a fruitless battle, I was given the weapons, not made of flesh and blood, with which to fight.

In short, God is awesome. That is one thing that has not changed. Thank you God for being the same yesterday, today and forever.

Thanksgiving wrap-up

Well, the dishes are clean. The family is tucked away safely in bed. Relatives are on their way home. The Cowboys kicked some butt. All in all, today was a successful Thanksgiving. It certainly did not feel like Thanksgiving, except for the feeling that my stomach gets when I've eaten "just a little taste" of everything.

This morning, a nerve was touched that runs so deeply that I got angry. My niece got all dressed up to go shopping with my father. He was so focused on getting to the store that he saw how her pretty dress would make it difficult for her to get into the truck rather than how pretty she looked in the dress. When I was a kid, all I wanted was for him to tell me how pretty I am. Instead, I got encouraged to go outside and "get some fresh air" or to get up at 0645 to play tennis. It's not that I think that my father doesn't love me. I know he does.

So, this morning, I got really upset with my father. I had flashes of everytime I wanted someone to tell me that I'm lovely and I was left wonting. So, I had a choice. I could remain in my anger, or I could recognize that this nerve had been touched so that God could heal it. I wish I could say my knee jerk reaction was to run to His arms and ask Him for healing. It wasn't. It took a few minutes. When I did run to my Father's arms, He reminded me of His word. My King finds me enthralling, beautiful, lovely. My Father smiles when He thinks of me, He sings over me with dancing, He chuckles at my humor. My Father, the Lover of my soul, finds me enthralling. It is in that security that I rest. Not in the opinion of man. In the opinion of the Creator of the heavens and the earth.

So, added to my list of things for which to be thankful is this. Emotional growth.

God is a bit of a punk at the moment

I've said it many times. God works in mysterious ways. Right now, I don't think He's all that mysterious. I think He's a bit of a punk. Perhaps I'm a bit irreverant. Right now I'm sitting here, shaking my head, wondering. Just wondering. Perhaps you want to know what I'm talking about.

Last night, my mom and I had a rather long discussion about my cousin. Long story short about my cousin. She apparently attempted suicide last October (2005) and she wound up living in our house. Havoc was created for the next 7 months. She was sent back to live with her parents in May of this year.

Fast forward to last night. Mom and I were discussing her and the havoc that she caused in our house. This havoc was caused because boundaries were not set for her and because she was not in counselling while living in the house. My mom sees everyone through rose-colored glasses. I'm not so trusting. I don't give my trust easily, and once you lose my trust, I'm very, VERY slow to give it back, if I ever do. My mom told me that I'm mean and that I'm too hard on her. You see, when she's acting bad, I tell her to straighten up her act. I tell her what she needs to hear but doesn't want to hear.

Fast forward to today. My cousin got a new phone. She called me. Not my mom. Me. We talked for over three hours. And she's going to church tomorrow. In Pennsylvania near where she lives. I sincerely hope that she actually goes. Here's hoping.

So...here's why God is a punk. I've asked Him to walk through the chambers of my heart, find what needs to be cleaned and do what needs to be done. Last night I was discussing my frustrations concerning my cousin with my mother. Today my cousin called. God has dealt with my heart issue. Please understand. I'm not going to trust her just yet. But I'm willing to walk with her through the stuff she's dealing with, and I will lead her to the only place she can find true healing. AT the foot of the cross.

Did I mention that when she lived here, before I moved to MA, mom and I led her in the prayer of salvation? You see...God's Word NEVER RETURNS VOID!!!!!!

We're all terminal

I don't know what God is trying to teach me, but I probably should learn it soon or I'll be completely alone on earth with only roaches as my companions.

OK--a little dramatic, a little over-the-top.

I receieved a call from my Aunt Michelle today. Her husband's Aunt Helen died this morning. She wasn't sick. The other night she decided to take a bath instead of a shower. She couldn't get out of the tub, so she stayed in all night. When she finally got out of the tub, she ended up in her kitchen, unable to get up. Long story short, they got her to the hospital. It was looking good until this morning when she went into renal failure. She died at 7:30 in the morning.

There were some funny moments in the story, though. The hospital thought she had a stroke because they were talking to her and she was not responding. See, she was deaf in her right ear. Once they talked to her on her left side, she responded. (I didn't know she was deaf for a while and would talk to her. She'd smile and nod. I couldn't remember who was deaf and who was blind on that street.) Last night, when my uncle went to see her, she yelled at him, telling him that he should be at home with his wife and mother instead of in a hospital with an old woman. She also told him to turn down her thermostat since she wasn't home. (He's the caretaker of all of the elderly on his street. My aunt jokingly calls the street his harem.) These anecdotes are probably more humorous to me since I knew her and the situations.

Maybe I'm learning to deal with death. Maybe I'm learning to maintain joy when I want to sob. Maybe I'm just learning that in life there are births and deaths, both of which are the natural ebb and flow of being a human being. Maybe I'm learning that, as Craig Fassler said on Sunday, "We're all terminal." It's time to make the most of every moment at hand, because we're not guaranteed tomorrow.

Nothing but the Blood

Nothing takes the wind out of my sails like a day with my family...specifically my grandmother. I realized when I was about 5 years old that I would never meet her expectations. I honestly don't try to live up to her sliding scale of expectations. I just wish that we could come to some sort of agreement wherein she would not let me know that I've yet again disappointed her and wherein I would take what she says with the proverbial grain of salt and let her bitterness roll off my back like water off a duck's back. But, for some reason, the darts that she continually shoots at my heart find their targets. Today I chose not to volley with her, even given some really great, and I mean FREAKING GREAT opportunities.

When (if) I am a grandmother, I want to be a person around whom my grandkids can be themselves and feel good about it. I don't want people feeling insecure around me. I want to bring out the best in people. During orientation at Temple, the kids who ran the program told us about Dr. Conwell who founded the school. He began the school in North Philadelphia because he say potential in the area...he saw diamonds in the people of the neighborhood so he wanted to give something back to the community. He founded Temple on the premise that higher education should be tenable for everyone, including inner-city working-class people. Maybe because I attended Temple that is part of my legacy now--that it is my desire to make God tenable to everyone, and that I want to bring out the diamonds in the rough people that are both in my family and whose paths I cross.

I thank God for hymns. This is actually hilarious because I didn't grow up with them and quite frankly, it's taken me a while to get to the point where I like them. On my way to church, the song, "Nothing but the Blood" was playing. It played again on my way home from church. This afternoon as I was under fire, that song played continually in my mind. And it is still playing right now.