Christmas Is Over

This year I spent Christmas in Texas with my Dad and my hometown peeps. One friend I went to visit had a beautiful holiday light display in their yard. The brightly colored bulbs covered the trees and lined the driveway. As I drove up the circular drive I heard a strange pop, pop, pop as I ran over ALL of the lights with my car. I guess it was just my subtle way of saying Christmas is over! I went from there to visit another friend (since the last friend I visited was now busy replacing lights) and I stayed right through dinner until I had finished off ALL his Christmas goodies (uninvited of course.) Just my way of saying Christmas is over! Later, I made a special batch of my chocolate peanut butter candy. Before I could package it to give away, I tripped in the kitchen and threw it ALL on the floor. Just my way of saying Christmas is over!

For me, every Christmas is long anticipated and thoroughly enjoyed. I spend it visiting family and friends with gifts, meals and stories. The day after Christmas everything changes. I click off the Christmas music, take down the tree and put away the remnants of the season. I pack away all the external signs of what Christmas means. But these new stories, the bonds of laughter, the prayers and hymns shared stay with me. The spiritual gift continues into a new year with a special peace, like how a candle scent lingers long after its flame is extinguished. Once Christmas is over and all the decorations of the season have been taken down and put away (or, in my case, run over), I want Christ's sweet presence to remain for ALL of my days.

How Neighborly Of Me

I have been very busy this week getting ready for Christmas. I came outside yesterday and noticed the Christmas lights my neighbor had carefully placed on our bushes had fallen off. Being the self designated neighborhood police, I meticulously replaced them back to where they were originally. After dark I realized that the neighbor had moved the lights on purpose because some of them were burned out!! Now I'm repositioning them... again...under the watchful eye of a confused neighbor. This situation would not have been nearly as bad if he hadn't been the same neighbor whose grapevine I yanked down because I thought it was a weed..twice. Doing everything in duplicate (that is not my job in the first place) is keeping me very busy.

It is a Biblical Principle to do my best to love my neighbor as myself. It is a Principle of Survival that my neighbor does his best to maintain a safe distance. Maybe I will just love my neighbor period and leave myself out of it. Maybe next year I invite the neighbor over to see if we can decorate the neighborhood together, double the fun and not the efforts. First I want to finish trimming this grapevine.

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

It's that time of year again, that season when the jingle of bells and the clicking of credit cards is ringing in my ears as I shop, shop, shop until I drop, drop, drop. I actually love it. It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year is continually looped in my brain as I wander through shopping malls looking for that special gift.

I try to be creative in my selections, which works against me some of the time. Like the year I gave my parents matching rugby shirts. Umm, first of all, who really wants matching clothes...and who really plays rugby…with their spouse? Another year I gave my dad a lamp with a face on it…apparently people don’t like to be stared at by their own furniture first thing in the morning! Why my family still speaks to me is a mystery. I should have taken the hint when they said; “We don’t really need anything unique this year." But no, I don’t take hints. I just keep going like some cranked-up elf on the ultimate quest to find that perfect present. I haven’t found it yet but I am definitely starting to exhaust the possibilities of what is NOT the perfect gift. And I won’t stop, stop, stop until I drop, drop, drop.

I’m not the only one confused by the gifting. Like when an artsy-craftsy person gave me a Santa head made out of a Clorox bottle. Okay...nice, I’ll keep it right next to... where I keep the Clorox! It certainly is…cheerful…with those jiggly eyes that roll around. Someone spent their valuable time making it and I can only hope they had fun doing it. They do get extra points for recycling… which I plan to do as well: Dad’s lamp will have a friend to look at.

Giving is a sweet way to show appreciation, but the Christmas season is so much more than that. What truly makes the holidays special to me is when I hear people freely singing praises to Jesus and telling the wonder of His birth. Intentional or not, it is amazing to hear strangers wishing strangers a "Merry Christmas", speaking the name of the Savior in the spirit of love and giving. Even those who seek to take Christ out of Christmas via political correctness gone astray cannot completely eliminate the real reason for the season. Jesus is still the gift and what we give Him in return is to remember others in our lives with love and appreciation, maybe not with gifts that can stare back at us but with simple gestures that show we care. To me, that’s what makes it the most wonderful time of the year.

Might As Well Face It

My sister Sheri and I made our annual trip to the beach this Thanksgiving. It's the best time of year for me to go when the autumn sun is not so intense and there is the least amount of glare off my pale skin. Even in the Fall, I have to slather up in a white pasty mask of 60 spf sunscreen just to keep from blistering my ivory complexion. Now when I get a look (some might call it an incredulous stare), I can tell people are trying to sort out why an Irish-looking gal is wearing that Japanese Kabuki makeup…like some mime at the beach. Might as well face it, I'm not quite the bathing beauty I see in the magazines.

Sheri and I made our traditional chicken & dressing casserole for the big day, along with green beans, fruit salad, cranberry sauce and hot rolls. Way too much food for two people, but what's a girl gonna do? After all, Thanksgiving only comes once a year and I measure my gratitude by the pound. As I loaded up my plate I made my first helping STUPID high. I just looked at my sister and said, “Might as well face it” and I put the amount on my plate that I was really going to eat. Yep, I actually ate it all and then went back for more, repeating my new catch phrase with each course like a disclaimer. Stupid high extra dressing: Might as well face it. Stupid high dessert: Might as well face it. Stupid high coffee: Might as well face it. Time for a nap, might as well take that stuffed face to the pillow for awhile.

When I woke up, I decided I might as well NOT face the fact that the clothes I was wearing before the nap now no longer fit. Since it was Thanksgiving, I gave special thanks for the man who invented elastic. I thought I could take my Kabuki self to the beach and walk it off…well maybe if I walked for 16 hours..in a sauna belt: I'm not sure if my sister could even have faced that.

So, is there a spiritual message in all this stuffing and dressing? I’ll try to serve one up. Like how often I fill my plate stupid high with things I don’t really need and drown in the excess. How often I load heaven up more with prayers of help than with words of thanksgiving. Might as well face it, the Lord is always faithful to give me what I need when I need it, and in my experience, not much before then either. He saves me from myself and how I am thankful for that. Well, that and elastic.

Tell The Coroner

Recently I decided to move some equipment around in my office. I picked up my computer and wrapped the cord around my neck so I could carry it. While going up the stairs I stepped on the cord and choked myself. I grabbed the rail and came within a breath of falling down the stairs. Should this ever happen again tell the coroner that it was an accident, no foul play.

After I recovered I moved the copier, replaced the toner and proceeded to the office supply store to buy new cords, longer trip proof cord this time and maybe a new scarf to hide the choking bruises. While driving away from the store I saw my reflection. I had a streak of black toner from top to bottom of one side of my face. I thought when people were waving at me it was because they were fans of my Blog. Toner is very hard to get off, it only gets worse when you smear it. It was starting to look like an Al Jolson minstrel show. I hit the curb and nearly had a wreck. Should this ever happen again tell the coroner it was an accident, no foul play.

If I die from a chemical burn from a hair dying mixture gone wrong, tell the coroner it was an accident. If I die in a diabetic coma from a Red Hot Candy overdose tell the coroner it was an accident. If I fall in another man hole tell the coroner it was not an accident, my dog Chopper pushed me.

Life is fragile and I do not take my days for granted. I look forward to seeing Jesus face to face someday. I can only hope when I stand in glory I still have all my hair and both eyebrows. I think heaven is a place of restoration. I think we will get to see ourselves the way Jesus meant for us to be. What was missing will be restored, what was lost will be found, no accident.

The Eyes Have It

As an average looking woman when I get a compliment I tend to believe it. Why would they make it up, I’m no Super Model? “Nice toes” (o..k..), “What straight teeth” (yep, cheese is my favorite word), “You’re not fat “ (let’s face it, that’s my only real goal in life, I’m shallow). So when I went to an event the other day and a woman said, “You have eyes like Elizabeth Taylor” I thought WOW, I knew I had to have at least one movie star quality, it sure wasn’t my hair. I didn’t ask her the last time she had her prescription adjusted. I didn’t ask her if she meant Liz now or then. It went straight to my head because I wanted to believe it. All day I went around fluttering my eyes just in case the word hadn’t spread and they could pick up my subliminal message. People were looking and I am not sure why they kept pointing to the eye drop aisle in the store.

In a sick irony the very next morning I woke up with one eye swollen shut. It was some kind of clogged gland or some such medical term. I went from Liz Eyes to Lizard Eye overnight! I called the doctor’s answering service because of course it was Saturday. The doctor called me back and said I should sleep sitting UP so the fluid wouldn’t collect. What?! Did I leave a message with my exboyfriend by mistake and this was his payback? Sleeping sitting up isn’t sleeping, it’s lounging between back aches. I'm pretty sure it’s the step before water boarding. After 4 nights of that I am at least half way through Navy Seal Certification. Piece of cake if I could manage to sharp shoot out of my good eye.

I have heard the verse many times: Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain. I always thought that verse was for Those People, Those Trophy Girls, not me. Vanity can be the smallest thing. As a matter of fact I am sure it starts with a small item and spreads. Now that I have been from the Penthouse to the Basement of Self Centered Vanity I should start thinking about how I see the world not how the world sees me. What do I see with my heart? If I lost my toes, my teeth or my eyes tomorrow could I still be known for my heart? I’ll vote for that pursuit. The eyes have it.

DOG'S LIFE

My dog Chopper has a very good life: plenty of food, sleeps in a bed, lounges in the air conditioned house while he watches me sweat in the yard cleaning up his poop. How’s that fair? Every morning when we go for our walks he sniffs every bush doing what I call Reading The News. He investigates who has been here (security check), what were they eating (that he is not getting) and are they his type (any new gals in the neighborhood?) . In the afternoon we play games in what Chopper calls Human Fetch. I throw the ball, chase him while calling him names, then I retrieve the ball for another round. Some days I would like to be Chopper and watch me fetch for a change.

The older I get the more I realize so many people are going through the motions of life desiring only food, shelter, and companionship. It is a life without depth; it’s a Dog’s Life. To experience another dimension of life that God gives only to His humans is Life in The Spirit. It’s the opportunity to connect with our Holy Creator and set our souls free in a way that no other animal can do. A Dog’s Life maybe a good life, but it’s not the best life. It’s the difference in Reading The News or Experiencing The Good News

DOG CHEESE

My sister Sheri and my dog Chopper had operations on the same day. I spent my time running back and forth exhausted trying to take care of them both. To get Chopper to take his medicine I stuffed it in cheese. That day while administering his medicine I saw an extra piece of cheese on the counter, so of course I ate it. It was time to give Chopper his pill. ....Oh dear.... I searched the counters like Helen Keller, ...where's the pill Helen?! Then the uh-oh moment: the pill was in the cheese I just ate! I started to panic. I tried to give myself the Heimlich maneuver, which hurts by the way, didn’t work. I tried to gag myself with a spoon, didn’t work. Then tell myself gross-out stories, still didn’t work. Now what Cheese Lover?

I decided to let go of my pride and call the Vet’s office. "Hello, yes it’s me.. again, I thought my dog's medicine was a piece of cheese and I ate it" ...silence, then a mystified voice on the other end of the phone said "..well that's a new one, better hold." Mysty came back on the line and said "The vet said it won't hurt you …but your dog's not going to get any better". I would have laughed if I hadn’t punched myself in the stomach with the Heimlich maneuver.

I had to lay down the law with myself. I am no longer allowed to eat snacks while dispensing medicine. My new procedure is to play it safe and only stuff the medicine into food that I hate, like Vienna sausages. When Sheri heard what I had done I wasn’t allow to give her any medicine…. or Vienna sausages for that matter.

I could swear Chopper understood what the vet said that day. He has never given me such an aggravated look. You make one little mistake and everybody is the Pharmaceutical Police including the dog.
Yep, on a day like that a dog’s life doesn’t look so good.

How I Created A Brand New Sin

Communion is a sacred ceremony in the Christian life. Christ asked us to take bread and wine in remembrance of His body and blood broken for our sins. In His wisdom He didn't ask us to do anything trendy like wear a certain outfit (like I would have). He asked us to take something life sustaining and to absorb it into our body like the Holy Spirit. The actions are timeless and maintained over the centuries. So when someone messes up Communion it is a Brand New Sin.

Ever since that day I ate the whole loaf of bread by mistake panels of theologians and ministers have been debating this Brand New Sin. No one has ever done this, not sure what to call it. What if it catches on and everyone starts eating entire loaves? It could cause total chaos through out the church. It would be like the miracle of the loaves every week.

I wish they would name it so I could repent and go on with my life.
Exactly how it happened was innocent enough but it is a story all it’s own.


COMMUNION FOR LIFE

I didn’t start out trying to create a Brand New Sin. Growing up I went to the Methodist church and at our Communion service we served little chicklet size crackers to represent The Bread. One weekend my best friend Janna invited me to attend her Youth Conference. When we went down front for Communion an Elder handed forth The LOAF. I had never considered what to do with a whole loaf so I took it, and chomped a large bite out of it like a hogey sandwich (not knowing it was the wrong thing to do). Then all my youthful wisdom decided they couldn't really want it back with teeth marks in it so …I took The LOAF to my seat with me, (still not knowing it was the wrong thing to do.) When I asked Janna where her LOAF was, she had to choke back a scream. What are you doing with THE LOAF? What,…I had THE loaf ??? (I just figured out it was the wrong thing to do.) Panic ensued. All I heard was a muffled command EAT IT. We started eating bread as fast as we could to hide the evidence.

I laughed so hard I could never look back up to the altar. I never knew how they finished out Communion service, maybe someone chopped up some breath mints they had with them? Maybe pieces of paper saying come back later? I no longer take Communion, I'm pretty much set…for life.

Lamebrains Have Value

First BLOG

I come from a Lamebrain Planet. Don’t judge me; you come from there too… at least on occasion, admit it. Maybe you didn’t eat a whole loaf of bread at Communion or shave off one eye brow by mistake. But who hasn’t walked around with toilet paper trailing on their shoe or ink smeared on their face? No? Ever let a friend give you a stupid haircut before a big event ? You will arrive on the planet eventually. I like the company.

For me it is essential to remember that God loves us all, even Lame Brained Idiots. Sometimes humor is the only thing that gets us through a miserable situation. I use simple truths from lamebrain moments. They can be shaped into a learning experience and sometimes I just pretend that they can. I leave the ones with dramatic effect for someone else. Let the deep thinkers share about pain and destruction. I just think we can hear those stories better from someone that didn’t have to draw one eyebrow back on.

We are all on the Lamebrain Planet together at least in fleeting moments. What a different world this would be if we all behaved as if we valued ourselves and others even with all our mistakes. We live in a culture obsessed with beauty and perfection so it is important to believe that we all have value, even lame brained idiots. Please keep that in mind if you ever meet me.