The Four Shorties

Ready to Swap Superpowers With Someone. Anyone.

2012-01-28T15:16:00.000-08:00

I have this running inside joke. Like most things in life, even if it's funny and you are being funny, there's still probably some truth in the joke.

I have this invisible sign in blinking neon over my head that reads something like this: "Please feel free to share the completely inappropriate details of your personal life with me." Now, the joke part comes in because I am She Who is of Little or No Mercy.

You get the punchline.

You people are telling the person least able to identify with and help you all about your personal business. It's mind boggling. And it happens all of the time. Daily. My dad once told me that all of that "theater nonsense" wasn't ever going to be helpful in the Real World. Boy, was he wrong. As teacher, pastor's wife, friend, mother, etc., that's probably the skill set I value and use most in my life. (This is known as 'irony', Students.) The ability to act like nothing is wrong and continue to move forward normally is seriously undervalued.
It seems that my entire life is running from one crisis directly into the next--and almost none of these crises are actually mine; they are usually someone else's ball of crazy. I get out of one situation that I'm required to fix and plow right into the next one without coming up for air. It's really quite remarkable. In fact, I'm pretty sure that the ability to cope under extreme pressure is my superpower.

(Maybe I am superwoman and the pod with the info I'm supposed to receive from off world simply hasn't arrived yet. Maybe.) Anyhoo...

I'd like to have an entire week without anything to report. No emergencies. No phone calls at 2:00 a.m. No police involvement. No personal crises. No new people with cancer. No people who need money. No nothing. My wants in life are simple. Here's a short list in case anyone is listening:

I want to sleep for more than six hours in a row sometime instead of napping and sleeping in five hour increments. I hear it's great.

I want to choose the fast food restaurant now and again instead of taking a popular vote. If the place sells anything that includes a toy, we ain't eating there.

I want to go ten solid minutes without anyone asking me a question. Okay, maybe that's unreasonable. I'd settle for seven.

I want to stay in my jammies one Saturday until noon without the doorbell ringing.

I'd like to watch a completely-inappropriate-for-children zombie movie from start to finish without having to pause five thousand times (to make juice, find a hairbow, cut the crust off, answer the phone, answer the door, find shorts, open the big freezer, move the laundry...).

I want someone else to fold the clothing or at least put it away if I've folded it.

I want someone else to figure out what's for dinner and then just let me know.

I want all 58 high school students to finish their homework one time. Just once.

I want complete and total boring for 24-hours straight.

Okay, okay, so I flew too close to the sun with that last one, but you have to be shooting at something in order to hit anything. I can tell you this though. I'm not answering the phone or the door on purpose next week. If you need something, you better call someone else, because I cannot help you. Even Wonder Woman needs a break. So, the next person I see who asks me how I am, I'm going to over share the completely inappropriate details of my personal life and see if I can transfer some of this crazy to someone else.

The Three Most Powerful Words

2012-01-21T19:30:00.000-08:00

I was sitting in the classroom and overheard a group of teens discussing a potentially cheating girlfriend/boyfriend. One of the group mentioned that she thought 'once a cheater, always a cheater', and for the most part, the others agreed. I really mulled that over during the rest of the day as a spiritual matter. What are we teaching our kids as a culture about forgiveness.

We are so weak and frail as humans. We are tempted and tried and no one really knows what we go through on a daily basis. This line of thought continued late into the evening as I watched advertisements for the morally bankrupt new show "Revenge". Really? Revenge? No wonder we have no forgiveness in our hearts. It's all about the revenge.

Successful relationships of all kinds including friendships, love interests, those with our parents/children aren't always about loving enough, but maybe they are more about our ability to forgive each other. If I never forgave my father every time he was a jackwagon or if my children never forgive me every time I am irrational, we'd have no relationships at all. It's not the quantity of love, it's the quality of our forgiveness that allows us to continue in love.

Forgiveness is complicated. Some of us equate forgiveness with weakness or lack of backbone or an automatic pass for people to hurt us. Forgiveness sometimes seems impossible, because we are literally unable to forget past wrongs. They cling to us and, more often, us to them.

I have always been the kind of person who sort of lets things roll right off. No really, I know I can be forceful and cranky and opinionated, but most of the time, if you are a friend or someone in my close circle and you do something particularly snarky to me or the kids, I get over it. Usually, I get over it without a single word being uttered to the person in the conflict. Sure, sometimes I vent to people like The Husband, but I don't I don't need some big confrontation or a "moment" in order to get closure on the deal.

I just sort of keep walking in a straight line toward the goal line without wavering and eventually, the person I have conflict with is either left behind, catches up with me and walks along without another word, or I keep my blinders on long enough that it doesn't matter where you are walking so long as you don't impede my forward progress. It's a quiet sort of forgiveness.

It's been quite a successful deal so far.

But lately in my spiritual walk, it feels like that mandate in Scripture of forgiving seventy times seven is impossible. I'd rather be crusty and pout and be a child about it, which is human and completely justified, but that's the immature reaction to have, because forgiveness might be the best practical indicator of your spiritual maturity.

Really get this. I'm saying that I think your ability to forgive someone who has legitimately wronged you is a direct measure of your spiritual maturity.

Anyone can serve at church, but can you CONTINUE to serve at church after someone has been ugly to you or even legitimately wronged you?

Anyone can tithe, but do you CONTINUE to tithe even when it's financially hard or is it has been based in the past on your excess rather than out of your need where it's supposed to be coming from?

Anyone can say, "I love you", but can you forgive a wrong and CONTINUE in love in a relationship (as friends, spouses, child/parent) with the offending party?

I told you it was complicated.

"I love you" is considered the most powerful phrase in the human experience, but "I forgive you" might be the more transforming phrase. "I love you" is largely contingent upon being returned. "I forgive you" is all on you and not on the other party. It's harder. It's dirtier. It's lonelier. And it's the right thing to do, even when you don't feel like it.

Why? Well, God said so. There's that. But it's also because it's the one thing that will eat you alive if you don't extend it to others. There just isn't any power behind your "I love you" if there isn't an accompanying "I forgive you". They can't exist one without the other. You don't really love someone if you can't forgive them.

So, with all of that said, I forgive you, because I love you.

What I Hope My Daughters Understand

2012-01-01T19:36:00.000-08:00

I've always loved to read. It's just my favorite. Over the Christmas break from school, I've been catching up on my Young Adult books that I put in my library at school. Man, there are some weird books out there. I'm all down with faeries and vampires and ghosts--whatever--but I'm seeing a really odd bend toward Nothingness. What I mean is an overall tone of despair, sadness, with parents who aren't involved or observant in the lives of their kids. It reads like a generation desperate to believe in something, anything. It's difficult to read once you notice it, because it's so demoralizing.

There are two kinds of girls in YA fiction:

The first group is made up of beautiful, cruel, mean, snobs who are deliberately tearing down the people around them in order to crawl to the top of the dead bodies and be queen. They are almost always sexually active, dressed provocatively, act out without any supervision or repercussions to their behavior, and are manipulative, evil people to their core. It's a case of the outside not matching the inside.

The second group are made up of main characters who are plain, dowdy, and unrecognized who come out of their shells by dressing differently (usually sluttier), getting contacts, and changing their hairstyles. That, or the main female character discovers some sort of "superpower". (This could be playing boys football or seeing supernatural characters.) She makes some mistakes, but it always a ugly duckling/swan scenario.

This type of thing just goes directly against what we are desperately teaching our girls. You don't have to be beautiful and mean or plain with a heart of gold. They aren't mutually exclusive states. Also, beauty is absolutely in the eye of the beholder. What one boy finds attractive might actually be repulsive to the Right Boy. It's why God made us in so many different shapes and sizes--so that everyone can find his/her flavor.

Here is what I want to discuss with my children after reading these novels:

I am involved in your life whether you like it or not. I will know where you go, what you do, and who you are doing with it. I will check up on you, because this is how honest people stay honest--accountability.

You're right--I don't trust you to always make the best decisions. This is why you are a child and not yet an adult. But even more than that, I don't trust anyone next to your person, and it's my number one priority to keep you safe and sound to let you continue to be a child for awhile longer. (Proverbs 19:18 Discipline your children, for in that there is hope; do not be a willing party to their death.; Proverbs 22:6 Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it.)

You do not call the shots in this house. I am the parent. I am not your best friend. This means that I will take action if you confide in me, and sometimes you won't like me. I don't care. My job is to raise you in the fear of the Lord, not to win a popularity contest. Don't worry; I'm tough enough to take it. Parents? You need to be where your kids are and have an active, responsible role in the lives of your children.

You are beautiful not because the world thinks so, but because your Heavenly Father says so. The standard of beauty changes from year to year. Your body type or hair type might be in fashion this year and out next year. You cannot rely on your face or body to make you or others happy. You might lose either or both of those sooner rather than later. Breast cancer, car accidents, surgeries, pregnancy will all change your body irreparably. (Proverbs 31:30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.)

You are not plain. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. You are a work of art. You are the house of the Living God. You are the temple of the Holy Spirit. You are the Bride of Christ. And those things have nothing to do with the size of your jeans or the curl in your hair or the clothes on your body. (Proverbs 11:22 Like a gold ring in a pig’s snout is a beautiful woman who shows no discretion.)

The world does not revolve around you. In fact, you are usually inconsequential to everyone in the world outside of me and your father. You cannot go around being cruel to people you perceive to be beneath you, because eventually you will be 'beneath' someone else, and they will return the favor.

One day there is going to be a man who sees you as you really are. Wait for that one. Don't settle for anything less. It's better to be alone than with just anyone. Life is too short to kill time in your relationships

Be the kind of person that influences others by just being and living a life that honors the Lord in your actions, your words, your activities, your dedication, and your love. Grow in your faith and in your spiritual relationship and God will provide the increase at the right time. Don't settle for ordinary or mean just because you are beautiful.

The Year in Review 2011

2011-12-30T21:06:00.000-08:00

These are some "year in review" questions on a sister blog. I thought I might answer them kind of as a diary blog sort of thing. I'm about to make my students blog several times a week, so I might as well get back in the hang of things.

Me and The Husband

1. What was the single best thing that happened this past year?

I'd have to say that teaching full time is the best thing that happened to me this past year. I like it, and it likes me. I hope I get to do it for many, many more years to come.

2. What was the single most challenging thing that happened?

This is almost too private to blog about, but I'll say this: You aren't married for 18 years to the same person on accident. It has to be on purpose. Both parties have to be fully committed. You both have to forgive each other daily and share 100% of yourselves with one another no matter what. Especially when things get hard.

Steve and Carl

3. What was an unexpected joy this past year?

Carl and Chris.

4. What was an unexpected obstacle?

Carl and Chris.

5. Pick three words to describe 2011.
Heartbreaking + Heartwarming = Heart Full

6. Pick three words your spouse would use to describe your 2011 (don’t ask them; guess based on how you think your spouse sees you). Steadfast. Helpful. Loving.

7. Pick three words your spouse would use to describe their 2011 (again, without asking). Eye-opening. Productive. Fruitful.

8. What were the best books you read this year?
Water for Elephants. I Am the Cheese. Wise Man's Fears.

Carter, Elise, Lilly, Elaina

9. With whom were your most valuable relationships? My children.

10. What was your biggest personal change from January to December of this past year?
I was faithful in my spiritual walk, work, play, school, home, marriage, church, etc. It's probably the first time in my life that I have ever applied myself from start to finish in every single area of my life. I hope that 2012 will be as special, but maybe not as challenging.

Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Songs that Should Go to Eleven

2011-12-30T15:19:00.000-08:00

Shout out to my Spinal Tap breathren. Perhaps the best/worst movie of all time and definitely in my Top Ten List. Speaking of which, I recently bought a two-disc set of KISS greatest hits. I began educating my kids on the band (since they rock), and in the process I said that "I Was Made For Loving You" was overproduced pap made to appease the disco masses in the late 70's. It's a great disco track and a dreadful KISS track. I said to the Shorties that it's an 11 Song.

What is an 11 Song, Mommy?

One where the volume should go one notch louder to eleven on the dial. (See This is Spinal Tap)

Then I was asked for a list of other 11 Songs. Here they are in no particular order, and this is by no means an exhaustive list, think of it more as an appetizer:

1) I Was Made for Loving You, KISS

2) I've Been Thinking About You, London Beat (not to be confused with their hybrid band, Fine Young Cannibals)

3) Werewolves of London, Warren Zevon

4) Groove is in the Heart, DeLite

5) Controversy, Prince (not to be confused with the Artist Formerly Known as Prince)

6) The Look of Love, ABC (Car dancing mandatory)

7) Fire Woman, The Cult (Ususally look like I'm having some sort of seizure when walking with this song)

8) Consuming Fire, Third Day (Best Christian Rock Anthem ever)

9) Back in Black, AC/DC (ahem)

10) Pour Some Sugar on Me, Def Leppard (epic return of the one-armed drummer)

11) Respect, Aretha Franklin (she's the queen of soul. You have to headbob and sing along)

12) Hard to Handle, The Black Crows

13) Love is the Drug, Roxy Music

14) The Distance, Cake

15) Ain't No Other Man, Christina Aguilera

16) This is a Radio Clash, The Clash

17) Wrong Number, The Cure

18) I Drove All Night, Cyndi Lauper

19) Under Pressure, Queen featuring David Bowie

20) Somebody to Love, Queen

21) DJ Hit that Button, Dead or Alive

22) Every Time I Roll the Dice, Delbert McClinton

23) Planet Earth, Duran Duran

24) Long White Cadillac, Dwight Yoakum

25) Hoochie Coochie Man, Muddy Waters

26) Say You Love Me, Fleetwood Mac

27) Get Right Back, Maxine Nightengale

28) Ain't Going Down till the Sun Comes Up, Garth Brooks

29) Black Cat, Janet Jackson

30) Great Balls of Fire, Jerry Lee Lewis

31) Tutti Fruti, Little Richard

32) What if I Came Knocking, John Mellencamp

33) It's My Life, Bon Jovi and possibly Runaway, Bon Jovi

34) Torn and Tattered, Joss Stone

35) Don't Stop Believing, Journey

36) Bawitdaba, Kid Rock

37) Rock and Roll, Led Zeppelin

38) Rollin', Limp Bizkit

39) Dolphin's Cry, Live

40) Like a Prayer, Madonna

41) Disease, Matchbox Twenty

42) Come Out and Play, The Offspring

43) Heartbreaker, Pat Benetar

44) Roll with the Changes, REO Speedwagon

45) Hot Legs, Rod Stewart

46) Gimme Shelter, The Rolling Stones (and Honky Tonk Women and Sympathy for the Devil)

47) How Soon is Now, The Smiths

48) Love Struck Baby, Stevie Ray Vaughn

49) Wrap It Up, The Fabulous Thunderbirds (or agueably anything by The Fabulous Thunderbirds)

50) Moves Like Jagger, Maroon Five featuring Christina Aguilera--nod to the pop radio in this century

And that's a nice little start.

I Wish the Same for You

2011-12-10T07:59:00.000-08:00

Every Saturday morning The Husband makes Real Breakfast. Like pancakes and bacon and eggs. Turns on the stove and everything. At first, I thought it was because he knew that if he didn't learn to make breakfast, he'd never get to eat it again, since I'm not exactly a Morning Person (ahem). But later in our marriage I learned that it was one of his love languages--showing care and concern and doing physical things for me and the kids that shows us how much he loves us. So, when I wake up on Saturdays, the house smells like fried maple bacon, pancakes, syrup, warm, honey, safe, family smells.

When I finally get out of bed and stumble to the bathroom on Saturday mornings, I find that the drawers to the dresser are always half open. It's a mystery to me along the same lines of why-can't-he-put-his-underwear-in-the-hamper-instead-of-on-the-floor-next-to-the-hamper. I have no idea why the drawers are never shut. They don't have a mechanical problem. They close just fine. I sigh deeply and shut them every single week. without fail.

See, The Husband gets up at 6:00 a.m. even on Saturday. He dresses and has coffee. He prays, meditates, walks five or six miles, (sometimes has to clean up where the dogs have gotten in the trash or where youth have rolled our yard), then he cooks breakfast for the family, while I snore and burrow deeper into the dark recesses of the bedding, praying that the kids will be quiet until 9:00 or later.

I have never one time cleaned up yard trash or toilet paper off of our lawn in 17 years of marriage.

And then one day it hit me.

See, if he closed the drawers on his sock, t-shirt, and underwear drawers while getting dressed at 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning, the one day a week I get to sleep in, the noise might wake me, so he leaves them cracked after he collects his clothing.

I'll let that soak in for a second.

What I took the first few years of our marriage to be complete laziness and idiocy on his part was really a kindness beyond measure. It might be the most considerate thing he could possibly do for me. So that I can sleep late, the man is so thoughtful that he doesn't even close the drawers all the way in case that small, tiny sound might disturb me.

I pray to God that my daughters marry men who can't find the hamper and don't shut the drawers all the way.

I love you, Pookey.

Back to Normal

2011-12-05T19:41:00.000-08:00

I'm a last minute Christmas kind of girl. As in, I don't really start buying gifts until a week out. You'd think that with my Type A planning nature I'd be more on it than that, but I discovered a long time ago that the further out I start, the more I spend. It's like I keep buying and buying, but if I only have a week, well, you get what you get.

It's really rather freeing knowing that whatever is left on the shelf the week before the big day is all I have to choose from. And it's an adventure.

I'm an incredibly sarcastic person, so all of this happy, happy, joy, joy has been exhausting. Random thoughts out of nowhere...

Hey, to the people who dropped the half gallon of milk on the pavement next to the Yukon soaking the entire driver-side door up to the roof so completely that I couldn't get into the vehicle from that side and had to crawl through the passenger seat with my pedicure still wet, thanks a bunch for that. I hope the karma train rolls through your station real soon. (Yes, I know that the grammar was bad, but it sounded funnier that way.)

Hey, to the collection agency that keeps calling my house looking for Darylana G. Four years later and she still doesn't live here. Really. We mean it.

Hey, students. I can't pull your average out of my ear. I have no idea what your grade is (as I walk into the bathroom or out of the lunchroom). And at this point, I don't really care; I've got three teaching days left. You either did the work or didn't. We call that a YP, not an MP. (your problem/my problem) SO, TURN IN YOUR MAKE UP WORK!!!! (That felt good.)

Hey, to the half of the Christmas lights that won't come on. It reflects poorly on you that you're not doing the work, you slackers. I'm certainly not replacing you at $22.00 a roll, so you'd better suck it up. (Seriously? When did Christmas lights go up so much?)

Hey, all of the errands I need to run and housekeeping I need to get busy with. I'm too busy reading this book; you'll still be there when I finish, so hold your horses.

Hey, pest control man. What do you mean you don't remove the carcasses? What am I paying you for? I could have put the poison in the attic by myself. Sheesh.

I guess all of that counting my blessings business had to end somewhere. :-) It's good to be back to myself again.

Bah. Humbug.

30 Days of Thankful--Day 30--Fin

2011-11-29T17:18:00.000-08:00

Well, I did it. I combined a few days, but I did thirty days of thankfulness. And the thing I am most thankful for...the thing that all of my thankfulness hinges on...is Jesus Christ.
See, He gave me friendships that won't end here, but will continue into eternity.

He gave me a husband who loves me more than I deserve.

He opened my womb and gave me the Shorties.

He also gave me bonus kids that are of my heart if not of my body.

He provided us with many wonderful church families who love us and care for us.

He gave me a job that I am beyond grateful for.

He meets my needs daily.

But most of all, He came in the form of an infant born in a manger among animals. All sin requires a blood sacrifice as payment. Sin is the barrier that exists between us and God. Christ came as the ultimate sacrifice for the remission of sin. He offered up His body as a blood sacrifice for my sin when He took my place on the cross and died so that all men could be reunited with God the Father. And without that, we face eternal damnation in a place called Hell.

There is only one way to go to Heaven when you die--you have to realize that you are born into sin and that there is nothing you alone can do to reconcile yourself to God. You have to believe that Christ came and died in your place--you deserved the cross, but He substituted Himself as payment for your sins and my sins. Finally, you have to confess with your mouth and in your heart that Jesus Christ is Lord and Savior. And for that there is no amount of thanks that I can possibly offer up to God except living daily in His will, seeking holiness, admitting my failures, and asking forgiveness.

The Christian is called to a life of thankfulness, gratitude, and holy living as a result of an inward change of heart. I am a sorry Christian many times, but I've never been sorry that I am a Christian.

Colossians 2:6-7

So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness.

30 Days of Thankful--Day 29--Friendships

2011-11-28T19:33:00.000-08:00

I have a lot of acquaintances. I also have a lot of people around me that know too much personal information about me (and I don't care). But I don't have a lot of close friends. It's hard to develop friendships in ministry.

Me and Jeri. What is up with my
hair and why didn't someone say
something?

People put on their "I'm with the pastor's wife" persona, and that's a tough nut to crack. No one wants to cuss in front of the preacher's wife. Or have a messy house. Or burp. Or admit that they know the words to AC/DC's Dirty Deeds album. (I think they dial the Jesus Channel up for the first time on the car radio if they have to drive me somewhere.)

And if you won't let your guard down, it's awfully hard to let mine down. So, The Husband and I made a decision long, long ago that we'd just be us and let God figure out who likes us and who doesn't. As a result, I'm the same all of the time; whether or not you can handle that is your problem. (Because I DO know all of the words to the Dirty Deeds album, and my dial goes to eleven.)

Lilly, Memaw, and Carter--
we don't get to see her
nearly enough!

I've been known to let an expletive fly. I've been known to poot and blame it on the dog. I've been known to smile and nod like I'm listening when I've actually dozed off on you. I don't return texts or emails in a timely manner. I can barely find my cell phone, much less keep it charged, so it's like a miracle if you happen to catch me with it in any kind of proximity. I don't call to "see how you are". If we want to do something, I have to put it on the calendar four weeks out, or I don't have time for you.

I'm on a tear about something half of the time, and I've got my face buried in a book the other half. I have family obligations, church obligations, The Husband obligations, work obligations, school obligations, Shortie obligations...it's overwhelming sometimes. And some of this is preacher's wife stuff; some of it is just Charlotte stuff. It's terrible to admit this, but I am an awful friend.

So, today I am thankful for everyone who loves me anyway.

Lynn and Tracy

Tracy is going to have a stroke if I don't learn how to text her back, but I'm confident that she loves me anyway. I swear I'm going to actually attempt to keep a charge on my phone and check it at least once daily. :-)

Jeri is going to think I've fallen off the face of the earth if I don't call her and check on her, but I'm confident that she still loves me anyway. I've got you the funniest card ever sent to someone who has been ill, and when you get it you are going to laugh out loud--I'm talking snorting laughing. I'm going to attempt to mail it this week, and I'm going to call you about going to lunch over the Christmas holidays.

Kayce and Me, NYC

Kayce probably thinks we are never going to dinner again, but I'm confident that she still wants to go when I have time and that she still loves me anyway. I've got consignment store fever again, and she's got the cure, so when I call you get in the car and we'll be off on another adventure!

Gretchen and Summer

Summer, I'm still praying for you, Girlfriend, and I swear I'm coming to see the new house. I'm confident that she still loves me anyway.

Laurel is just as busy as I am so she's probably worrying that I don't love her anymore either, but I still love her and know that she still loves me anyway. I'm coming to see One Night in Bethlehem, Girlfriend, because I know you're up to your eyeballs in it by this time. Can't wait to see you for five seconds that night! :-)

Me, Kathy, Lela

Lela? Lela! Hello? Is this thing on? Let me know when and where. :-) I'm confident that you still love me anyway.

Jenny and her super
fun self

Jenny is still waiting on that girl's night out that we've talked about for an age, but I am confident that she still loves me anyway. And we'll go this year--movies, shopping, sitting and staring into the quiet. I promise two things: one, no kid-friendly foods and two, no clean up duties afterwards.

Shelley? Wherever you are, Girl, I still love you.

This is hardly an exhaustive list. You get the point.

Lilly and Shelley

Friendships take work. And time. And mutual disclosure. I need to work harder at cultivating my girl friendships. But even though I am a terrible friend, I am thankful that God has blessed me with people who are amazing friends to me even when I am not an amazing friend back.

Proverbs 17:17 A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.

30 Days of Thankful--Day 26, 27, & 28--I'm Reaching Here.

2011-11-28T10:46:00.000-08:00

Saturday--started to clean out the living room cluttery areas to be able to move the furniture around and put the tree up. Quit to go watch the Iron Bowl. Roll Tide. (Hard to be excited when you beat the equivalent of the the Locus Fork high school squad.)

Sunday--started to get the tree, but rain, rain, and more rain. Instead, graded 48 horrifying Critical Character Analysis papers from 7th-12th graders. Debated suicide by chocolate covered almonds, but reconsidered and had a turkey sandwich between five hours of church services including a human video practice.

Monday--it's freezing out and drizzling, so there is a fifty/fifty chance of no tree again today. (Wondering at this point if we are going to actually put up a tree.) Read four of the worst repeating poems ever written in an English class. I'm not kidding:

Imma bee
I fly and fly
Into the sky.

Imma bee
I buzz and buzz
and I'm full of fuzz.

Imma bee
I fly and fly
until I die.

Did I mention these are ninth graders? I weep for the future. (I still love them, but Keats and Shelley they ain't.)

Need a fix of Christmas Vacation to get past the rainy day blues. That, some Kipling, a large cup of coffee with flavored creamer, and a nap and I'll be right as rain. (What does that MEAN?) Guess what I'm thankful for today?

Some days it's harder than others to figure that out for me too. So, if you struggle with things not being so rosy, just remember, you could be reading ninth grade poetry for your living. Ahem.

Philippians 4

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! ⁵ Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. ⁶ Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ⁷ And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

30 Days of Thankful--Day 25--The Experience is What You Make of It.

2011-11-25T09:55:00.000-08:00

So, in our house we are big on "experiences". It's why when I took the girls to NYC this year, we had dessert at midnight. It wasn't really about the cheesecake. It was about being able to order dessert in a diner with other patrons at MIDNIGHT, because in rural Alabama everything closes at 9:00, and you certainly won't see anyone else out and about at that time of night (unless they are shooting off fireworks or spotlighting deer). Ahem.

We ordered the cheesecake at midnight after the theatre for the experience of it.

The Wonder Twins excited about their first Black
Friday shopping extravaganza.

Black Friday is sort of like that with me. I like the hustle and the excitement. I have a short list of stuff I hope might happen, but it's really about the cafe latte at midnight, seeing the people huddled up in sleeping bags, sitting in camping chairs, wrapped around the Best Buy four hours before it opens. It's about getting those pajamas you didn't know you wanted for $4.88. It's just...an experience.

Needless to say, the Wonder Twins were on FIRE to go Black Friday Shopping this year (me, not so much), but I let them talk me into it. Literally armed with $20.00 cash each, we headed out at 8:30 p.m. (after a long day of three Thanksgiving Dinners) to our local shopping mall approximately 40 miles one way from our house. The girls were freaking out excited. They laughed so hard at the folks around Best Buy and Target. We drove past the movie theater to see what was playing, but nothing we were interested in was on at 9:30. So, we ate hash brown rounds and flavored water and wandered into Wal-Mart at around 9:45 p.m.

That red thing at the bottom of the photo is one of the
cardboard kiosks I refer to in this blog.

Wal-Mart is the Big Momma of Marketing Strategy. They have one sale of stuff at 10, another at 12, and another at 2:00 a.m., so you just keep standing and standing and standing and buying and buying and buying.

Since we didn't have anything in mind, we just waited for that rush to subside and then picked over the leavings, harvesting quite a few fancy bargains. The girls just liked the excitement factor, but it's also a powerful Real Life Teaching Moment happening all around you.

So, we talked and people watched and wandered around until I saw something really choice on sale with no one standing in front of it. Huh. I looked at the girls, they looked at me, and I asked if we want to go for it. They both eagerly nodded, even though it meant two hours standing in a line that may or may not get a little rowdy.

I'll tell that story in a moment, but here are some Life Lesson Discussions in Wal-Mart standing in line for a popular electronic from 10:15 until midnight:

1) Now, the Wonder Twins are as tall as I am, so this isn't some kind of child endangerment issue, but there were some folks who had baby-babies and toddlers in that store. Like I saw several six-weekers in there. No joke. Are you crazy? DHR ought to set up at the door and if you took your preschool kids into that mess they ought to be taken from you, SHAME ON YOU!

2) You also have the unique opportunity to see what the Real World looks like for a few, brief moments, and it's the best argument ever for private school. Piercings, tattoos, boobs hanging out everywhere...a chance to see live and in person that the whole world is not on your wavelength. (Yes, I am insulating my children, and your point is.....)

3) People have equal parts nutcake and good Samaritan in them--it just depends on which side is being fed more at the time.

All of those VERY large men waiting to mob the
Boost Mobile phone display.

I'm standing on the side of the aisle with MP3 players and cameras. All super low priced. On the other side, only a cardboard kiosk standing chest level across from me is Teresa, a merchandise manager. Teresa is blonde, late 40's/early 50's, and weighs about 100 lbs. To my left is a police officer who is trying to manage about 50 very large males who are waiting to snatch and grab 15 Boost Mobile phones (15 phones/50 large people = this is Trouble Brewing). I am pressed against the cardboard kiosk approximately 18 inches from Teresa who is on the other side in front of some touch screen Smart Talk Mobile phones, and we are surrounded by 150 or so people.

Now, the folks on my side of the cardboard box are moms trying to buy cheap MP3's and point and shoot cameras for kids. There's not much aggression at all, we are laughing, know each other's names by the two hour wait ending, etc. On the other side, waiting on the cheap phones are a large group of young who are pierced, teeth rotting out of their heads, tattoos, pink bras showing through tank tops (It's November), and just a different sort of group.

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

Because I am Me, I start making jokes, singing carols, and doing a little dance every time we count off five minutes. I also realize that the crowd is large and becoming agitated, so I send the girls and our buggie off to produce to wait on me, just to get some space (okay, a LOT of space) between the Boost Mobile Maniacs/Straight Talk Maniacs and my offspring.

I grasp that perhaps Teresa is on the wrong side of this box, so I jokingly say, "Hey, I've got a GREAT idea! I'm the preacher's wife and this is like a gift from God! I've totally got a captive audience here, so I'm going to share the gospel with all of you." :-) I get a few laughs, and then I do it. I tell about Christ coming as a baby, but not staying that way. I tell that He came to save us from our sins and that if we repent and seek Him, He will be faithful to hear us and forgive us and restore us to the Father. I even pray at the end (at which time exactly eight or nine cell phones fire off, so I know that the Holy Spirit was moving). I'm not particularly good at sharing my testimony like this, so it was a personal spiritual victory. Now, in front of me, everyone has gotten quiet, and even if there were some eye-rolls, everyone was tolerant.

The girls entertaining themselves
while we wait.

About ten minutes later, all heck broke loose. Someone snatched a Boost phone five minutes before midnight and that was the mob cue to attack. Teresa didn't stand a chance. She was not only being crushed half to death, and I could see her face pretty well since she was trying to come over that cardboard on top of me, but she was being pushed down by people taller and bigger trying to reach over her. All thoughts of getting my hands on a stupid music player or camera were lost in that second, and instead of reaching for those things, I reached for Teresa.

I pulled her back up to her feet from the floor (on the other side of the cardboard box, so this was quite a leaning act), and began screaming, "Stop! Stop! You are NOT animals!" at the top of my lungs. (How loud was I? The twins heard me in the produce aisle screaming from the electronics department.)

I guess someone saw my superhero body suit and matching cape under my Alabama sweatshirt, because everyone froze for three full seconds, giving me plenty of time to move the kiosk (and the people pushing behind me) about six inches, enough for Teresa to squeeze through to our side and directly into the arms of the police officer. I'm not going to lie, I thought for a second that crowd was going to crush that woman on the floor. She thought it too based on the crying and ambulance that came afterwards.

The girls entertaining themselves
in the produce aisle with my
phone, far from the action. Evidently,
there isn't a rush on onions.

I made sure she was okay (this took a little time), and me and my empty arms carrying no bargains headed back to the produce aisle to collect my children. When I rounded the corner, there were the twins and three people who had been around me while we waited those two hours. Those three people--two women and a man--collected between them all of the things that I had been waiting on but missed out on when I got Teresa onto my side of the kiosk. They didn't have close to my personal order, they had it exactly:

Four MP3 players--one in each color, matching earbuds--all four colors, two cameras, two cases--one in each colr, two SD cards, etc. I almost cried. Those people took care of me. God took care of me through these people.

We were in line to check out, laughing and talking and full of excitement from how God had blessed us, and a woman tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Ma'am? I heard what you said in the back, and, well, we've put three of these ticketed doorbuster 32" HDTVs in our buggy, but we only need two. Would you like the third one?" I asked what I had to pay her for it, and she laughed, "Nothing! I couldn't figure out how I got three in the first place, and then I heard you share the gospel and saw what you did and we just want to give it to you."

The one thing that The Husband really, really wanted this year that I had no hope at all of ever getting my hands on, a flat screen HDTV at a doorbuster price (because that's the only way in the universe we would ever afford one) fell right into my lap.

Are you kidding me? I'm right you know; sometimes it's just about the experience.

30 Days of Thankful--Day 22--I'm thankful for Twilight.

2011-11-22T10:41:00.000-08:00

Every knows I'm a complete Twi-Hard. And I'm the pastor's wife. I have absolutely no problem with either of these things--they are compatible in every single way in my personal spiritual walk. In fact, I checked my oldest girls out of school to go with me to the premiere. My pastor husband teases me, but he doesn't care either, like when I had a Twilight party at the parsonage where me and the girlfriends watched the first three films back to back on a Saturday night.

The book series is incredibly moral and good in its entire storyline, unlike the popular Disney movie, Tangled, which I think is the most morally irresponsible, repugnant film ever marketed to children. I'll compare in a moment.

Twilight is a coming of age story about a girl who is new in town. She happens to fall in love over the course of time, with a boy who is a vampire. Now, on the negative, we have some lying and she has a boy in her bedroom--both absolute no-no's. But there's no cursing, no drinking, no drug use, no partying, and no sexual activity in the entire series.

Discussion Number One:

There are no such things as vampires or werewolves. If you in any way think that there are, you have issues that are so big you probably need to seek medical attention and get medication. I'm serious. There's also no Easter Bunny, no Santa Claus, no Narnia. There are no fairies, no Peter Pan, no Tinkerbell, and no "good" pirates (they are by definition thieves, murderers, looters, rapists). There are no talking bears with furniture and porridge. There are no talking ogres or pussycats who wield swords. There are no talking chipmunks or garden gnomes or toys that come to life when your back is turned.

If you participate in any of those things, you are committing the same "sin" of Twilight using vampires as the fairy tale vehicle through which to move the story. Same exact deal--it's make believe. Because VAMPIRES DON'T EXIST. Shocking, I know, but still true. See, you want to pick and choose your make believe characters when they suit you. Beowulf, anyone? The Velveteen Rabbit? Ahem.

(Fairy tales also include every Karen Kingsbury novel ever written, The Chronicles of Narnia. Peter Pan. Watership Down, Toy Story, etc.)

Mark Driscoll

Discussion Number Two

If you quote anything by Mark Driscoll to argue against Twilight, I know exactly where you stand in your spiritual walk. He is a foul-mouthed borderline heretic. He's nauseating and not a Godly man or Godly example. I'd be bad careful who I quote and follow, because you discount your argument using that man's opinion (or quoting Joel Osteen).

Spiritual Lessons From Twilight:

1) Die daily to your sin.

One of the mainstays of the story is that the Cullen group of vampires (who don't exist) who aren't related, but are drawn together by a mutual agreement to live a different, morally righteous lifestyle are supposed to, by their very nature, kill humans to live (much as we kill and eat animals to live). They don't. They have made a conscious, deliberate decision NOT to live this way, and although it is completely against their natural desires and drives, they die daily to that desire and live as "vegetarians" only living on the blood of animals.

Doesn't that sound like anything you know...a group of non-related, like-minded people who deny themselves and their base nature and instead decide to follow a higher path...hmmm...it'll come to me I'm sure.

2) Self sacrificing love is the only kind of love there is.

Throughout the story, everyone of the Cullens, Bella, Jacob, and Edward all put aside their personal desires and wants for the needs of others. Continuously. Multiple times in different ways. They all seek to meet the needs of others first and foremost even if it costs them something personal. If I start listing examples, I'll never finish. Bella sacrifices her life for Edwards. Edward leaves Bella when he thinks it's the best thing for her to keep her out of danger. Jacob leaves when he thinks he might hurt Bella. Bella puts her own life on the line about five times over the course of the series to protect those she loves. Hello? There is no greater love than this that a man sacrifice his life for his friends? Hello?

3) The love interests wait until marriage simply because it's the right thing to do.

Well, I'll be. Name ONE non-Christian book that has been read by MILLIONS of young ladies that ENCOURAGES ABSTINENCE AS THE ONLY WAY. Go on. I'm waiting. And the MAN is the dominant, deciding factor in the fact that they wait until marriage.

4) Abortion is NEVER a choice. It's murder.

When Bella becomes pregnant AFTER THE MARRIAGE AND HONEYMOON, she is physically in danger of losing her life and yet she chooses NOT TO ABORT and sacrifices her own life, literally, for the baby. Hello? Tap, tap, tap! Is this thing on? Name ONE secular, popular book that preaches this. One. (I'm still waiting for your answer in number three...)

5) If you don't like it, just don't participate.
I have no problem if you don't want to wear pants to church on Sunday morning. I don't think it has to do anything with my spiritual walk, so I don't care what you wear or what I wear. I don't care what version of the Bible you are toting, just bring the Word with you when you come, and if you don't have one, we'll get you one free of charge. I don't care if you want to argue Santa or not, just let me and my house do what is best for us. (The deal that it's 'lying' doesn't fly at our house--I'd better not ever hear you singing that song in front of me and then use the word "wee wee" instead of penis you LIAR! Because there is no such thing as a "wee wee". (See how stupid this argument sounds?)

6) If you haven't read it, shut it.

If you didn't vote, I don't care about your opinion. If you haven't read the books, ditto. Just go on your merry way and leave me alone with my little joyful moment. Or do you want to post on Facebook that Santa's a fake and the Easter Bunny is dead too?

Contrasted with Lessons from Tangled, the Popular Disney Movie from the Pit of Hell
I hate this movie. I think it's spreading propaganda of the worst possible kind and through a cartoon, so that it appears innocuous, making it dangerous.

Your mother is your number one rival in beauty and relationships.
She wants to steal your moments.
She's a witch.
She wants to keep you locked up and prevent you from having autonomy or making decisions on your own.
Only your biological parents love you, not your adoptive parents.
It's okay to sneak out, disobey your mother, go off into the woods with a boy your age who you KNOW is a thief and a liar and gang member, spend the night with him in romantic circumstances, lie to people along the way, break the law numerous times, because you are trying to have an adventure, and that's what really counts.
You should be romantically involved with a thief and a liar in the first place.
You should listen to him over your parents, because he LOVES you. (ahem)

If you own this movie and call yourself a Christian, you should get up right now and toss it in the trash and go get you a copy of the book Twilight where the girl waits for marriage, chooses a boy with good intentions who lives exactly like he says he does. A book where the boy is attempting to deny his sin nature daily and live a righteous life, who formally introduces himself to the daddy and brings the girl home for dates where they spend time with his family, who waits until marriage. A book with a strong pro-marriage, pro-family, pro-life agenda.

Yeah, I can totally see why you think that stinks.

30 Days of Thankful--Day 21--The World's Greatest Mom Title

2011-11-20T19:14:00.000-08:00

Not only did I let this photo shoot

keep on going, this was our

Christmas card.

Today I am thankful for the title of World's Greatest Mom. (Why are you laughing?)

It could happen. I mean, we all have our good points and our bad points, the goal is just to get the good to outweigh the bad, right?

So, if we're being honest, here are some reasons why I should and shouldn't be awarded the title...

Let's see...on the negative side...

I'm a terrible housekeeper.

I'm an average cook.

I'm too busy.

I'm distracted most of the time.

I've got a line of folks waiting on me for something, most of whom I can't actually help.

I ignore my kids often.

I have potty training photos of all
the Shorties, and I'm not afraid to use them.

I ignore my husband even more often.

I left a kid once at a fall festival, not at our church, but across town. I didn't even know she was gone. They called me and asked if I'd forgotten something, to which I promptly responded, "Um, not that I know of."

I never check texts. I almost never check email. And I don't answer my phone half of the time. I am not dead or ignoring you, I just forgot about it. Really.

You absolutely have to brush your teeth before you're getting a kiss.

You can't have a phone until you can drive.

I told you so.

You can't wear make up until you are in high school.

You can't go on a car date until you can drive, and I have to know his family, his address, where he goes to church, and every single other person he has ever dated or been friends with. (I'm not joking.)

I have stacks of random stuff from one end of the house to the other that you aren't allowed to touch. (Seriously, we're like a couple of stacks away from being an intervention on Hoarders.)

We don't go to the doctor until an appendage has fallen off or you've barfed up a lung.

I hate television and go through the house randomly turning them off in the middle of your show and might even include a lecture about losing IQ points for watching it.

Nutrition failure even in diapers

Homework is your problem, not my problem. Figure it out on your own. No, I don't care if you fail--I didn't fail, you failed. (No mercy.)

I once spanked the wrong kid and then, instead of apologizing, I screamed, "Well, I'm sure you did SOMETHING today that I missed!" and stomped off.

No, I will not help you clean your room, hence it is YOUR room.

Once I get in the bed and nest there, I'm not getting out unless you have set something on fire or fallen from a great height.

But on the positive side...

You can totally build a wicked fort in my living room anytime you get the yen.

I served cake for dinner once.

Absolutely you can feed
yourself. No worries.

We have gone to the movies (like in public) in our pajamas more than once.

You never, ever have to wear a hair bow or anything that qualifies as "itchy" if you don't want to. Not even to weddings or funerals.

If you can't eat chocolate while wearing it, we aren't buying it.

We're having a tea party right now at 8:00 on a school night complete with the For Good Wedding China.

We have art supplies in every single medium randomly placed all over the house, so feel free to create something at will.

I have 18 kinds of sweetened cereal in my house for dessert or if you don't like what's on the table for supper. (Hey, the box says 'fortified with vitamins and minerals'.)

There is no bedtime on Friday night.

I will stay in the bathroom with you while you throw up.

You can sleep in the bed with me if you are throwing up.

I will kiss you all over even if you do have a fever.

Sure you can hold the baby by yourself even though
you are only two.

I have eyes in the back of my head and will use them for good and evil.

I will answer any question, any time, honestly, even if it makes me uncomfortable.

I have endless quarters for gumballs. I never, ever run out. You can always have a gumball.

Mommy and Carter

You can have open drinks and popcorn in the Yukon. It's just a car; you are my Shortie.

If you're a Shortie, there's nothing you can tell me to make me not love you.

Lilly and Mommy

30 Days of Thankful--Day 20--The Little Things

2011-11-20T11:50:00.000-08:00

And today I'm thankful for...

Kids running in the first frost of the year. We need
to get out more.

Crunchy grass--you know, the first frost that covers the ground in sparkly sunshine and kids who want to run in it.

The prize in the Cracker Jack box--it usually stinks, so the kids don't fight over it. (For very long.)

The fact that my kids still think the biggest treat ever is "going to the gas station" after school once a week for a snack.

A dog that is fully potty trained and doesn't shed.

Funny kids. (Sometimes on purpose, mostly on accident.)

My mother, who always unloads the dishwasher.

Elise, who always loads it. (Sometimes)

Ibuprofen.

A husband who, even though I'm 'healthy girl', always brings me chocolate covered almonds, Just Because.

Being able to walk to church.

Not having to wear a skirt to that church.

Being able to take a nap on Sunday afternoons.

Sometimes, it's just about the little things...

30 Days of Thankful--Days 18 and 19 Too Many Reasons to Count

2011-11-20T07:54:00.000-08:00

Today I am thankful for a long list of ordinary things:

1) Indoor plumbing.
2) All of the appliances in my house.
3) Central heat and air.
4) Comfortable clothing and shoes.
5) Enough to eat.
6) Access to medication if we are sick.
7) So much to eat that we throw food away because it spoils.
8) Soap, shampoo, toothpaste and toothbrushes.
9) Medical care thirty minutes away in any direction.
10) Family and friends all around me that would come in a moment's notice for any reason I call.
11) Fire department right around the corner.
12) The ability to worship this morning without any fear of my government.
13) A Bible to carry with me to service and study from during the week.
14) And the list could go on a hundred pages long...

Think you don't have reasons to be thankful? Maybe you aren't looking hard enough.

30 Days of Thankful--Days 16 & 17

2011-11-17T06:41:00.000-08:00

Okay, I didn't skip Day 15, I just posted it as a Facebook message that indicated I wasn't publishing my ranting blog about The Husband's crazy relative, so, I said I was thankful for self control. Ahem.

Day 16-17 are another combo, so I saved it.

Today, I am thankful for Anticipation.

(Get it? You had to wait a day to get to the blog of thankfulness? :-) Okay, so maybe I was the only one anticipating it, but it's still funny.)

I'm anticipating the new Twilight Saga movie, Breaking Dawn so much that I can't breathe. Every time that the previews come on the TV, my mother, myself, and the Wonder Twins begin screaming the second the reel stops playing. We are anticipating it so very much that I've pre-ordered tickets, and if I didn't live an hour (literally) from the theater, I'd have been at the midnight showing tonight.

There is something about being excited about an event that is the embodiment of Happy. It crosses your mind and you smile. You daydream it. You are giddy for no apparent reason. We anticipate all sorts of things like big vacations and weddings and first dates and first kisses. We wait and plan and get wound up about small things like a trip to the beauty shop and ice cream sundaes after dinner and back-to-school clothes shopping. It's a tiny rush.

The key to a life lived and a life well-lived is anticipating the right things. See, I'm really, really, REALLY excited about going to Breaking Dawn--I mean breathing hard excited--but I've got many more important things that I anticipate every day:

Tonight I'm teaching the Youth Bible Study, and I can't wait to see them and hear them and be near them! How cool is it that I get to teach youth?
I'm taking my mother and E-squared (shhhh...they don't know yet) to see Breaking Dawn on Friday (I even have our tickets!) and getting to go with good friends who share my obsession! And there's going to be POPCORN! Whoot! (Sometimes, it's the little things.)
I'm going to the first home basketball game on Friday, and I am going to cheer on the entire high school until I am hoarse and they threaten to eject me from the game. Cool!!
I'm going to a wedding on Saturday, which means that two people fell in love and are taking vows before God the Father. Go Marriage!
Sunday I get the privilege of going to an adoption celebration for a family who are adopting, proving that God is still in the business of answering prayer! Go God!

Instead of moaning about how busy we are going to be, I want to be the kind of person who is constantly anticipating the next movement of God in my life. And as a Christian, the biggest thing that I'm anticipating is the return of Jesus Christ. We sometimes get so busy doing "stuff" that we forget that we are wired for anticipation by our very design. How cool is that? So, what are you anticipating or is your life one dreaded thing after another? Maybe it's time to re-evaluate. :-)

Luke 12 ³⁵ “Be dressed ready for service and keep your lamps burning, ³⁶ like servants waiting for their master to return from a wedding banquet, so that when he comes and knocks they can immediately open the door for him. ³⁷ It will be good for those servants whose master finds them watching when he comes. Truly I tell you, he will dress himself to serve, will have them recline at the table and will come and wait on them. ³⁸ It will be good for those servants whose master finds them ready, even if he comes in the middle of the night or toward daybreak. ³⁹ But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. ⁴⁰ You also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.”

30 Days of Thankful--Day 14--Pastor Appreciation

2011-11-14T05:25:00.000-08:00

Yesterday the church gave us a beautiful luncheon and love offering for Pastor Appreciation. I can't tell you what our a blessing it is being in a church that loves us means to our family! But being married to The Pastor is weird. Like with a capital W.

Here are some reasons (in no particular order) why this is so:

1) If you are married to the pastor, people want your husband emotionally all of the time.

They want to call and text and email him until midnight. They want him there, physically there, when trouble comes. They want parts of him that are usually reserved for marriage and family. And I am expected to share him willingly, without complaint. (Will someone in the Pastor's Wives Association please let me know when she has accomplished this and let me know how to do it?) Lucky for all you people that Your Pastor thinks he's on call 24/7 too, because if it were up to me...

2) If you're married to the pastor, people have this bizarre idea that you, as his wife, are supposed to be a role model or something.

*snort. As if. I'm an idiot. I have little or no mercy. I'm intolerant of stupidity. I am constantly on the verge of hysterical, inappropriate laughter. Really. You should probably avoid me if you're looking for comfort or encouraging words. Lucky for all you people that Your Pastor loves me just like I am, because it makes him more likely to love you just like you are...

3) If you're married to the pastor, your kids are supposed to be perfect.

This is why our kids have only two church attendance requirements: you have to be clean and modest. The end. No dresses. No hairbows. No stockings. Just clean and modest. They are kids. They are not role models. The biggest clothing rules in our house are a) Mommy doesn't iron and b) If you can't hand the child a chocolate ice cream cone while he/she is wearing it, your kid shouldn't be wearing it. (Hence, it's a kid, not an adult.) Lucky for you that Your Pastor grasps that kids are kids and should be treated like kids and should act like kids, therefore he can preach right over your screaming baby and kids who move back and forth through the pews without missing a beat and believes that those youth and kids ministries are vitally important in the church...

4) If you are married to the pastor, people think that your house is supposed to be clean. Like by the wife and stuff

Bwahahahahahahah!!!! Ah-ha-ha!!!! Seriously. I can't breathe! Oh! Give me a second, give me a second. Breathe, breathe, breathe. No comment. Lucky for you that Your Pastor does dishes and laundry and helps with the kids, hence our house isn't a complete and total disaster zone, because if it were up to me alone...

5) If you are married to the pastor, people think that you are supposed to be able to bake and take food to sick people and funerals and stuff.

Just like people ask what Donna Lee made at potluck so that they can eat it, you probably want to find out what I brought too so that you can avoid it. Lucky for you, Your Pastor eats anything I put in front of him without complaining and actually cooks, hence he's not dead and can minister to you...

6) If you are married to the pastor, you are supposed to relinquish proprietary rights to your husband on all Sundays, Wednesdays, Holidays, and should anyone in the congregation have the misfortune to get sick while you're on vacation.

Again, no. I got there first, so I call dibs. You can have him sometimes, but there are circumstances where he's mine. All mine. And sometimes I need him first as a husband and a father before you can have him as a pastor. Lucky for you, Your Pastor loves his congregation so much that he makes time for the both of us, because if it were up to me...

Now don't you appreciate your pastor more now? At least once a month or so someone thinks that The Husband is doing a terrible job representing the Kingdom. Just take comfort in the fact that it could be worse; I could be in charge. Instead, I'll take this silly, compassionate, loving, caring, cooking, cleaning, playing, funny, wonderful man who I call husband, who the kids call Daddy, and who you call Brother Steve, and think I'll keep him. I appreciate you, Pastor. Even if I'm the worst Pastor's Wife in the history of time.

Thankfulness--Day 10, 11, 12, 13--Another Miracle

2011-11-13T07:51:00.000-08:00

Day 10, 11, 12, and 13

We were out of town for the funeral, and then I had a little soiree at Casa Johnson, so I'm off a few days. How handy for me that my next series of thankfulness has four parts. :-)

The Husband and I were married six years before the God of all Comfort opened my womb and gave me the Wonder Twins: Elise and Elaina. They were born via C-Section, and the moment they officially arrived, I cried so long that the surgeon asked if I was okay, in pain, or just emotional. "Just" Emotional. I honestly thought before they came that it might not happen for us. When I finally had nothing more that I could do in this life to get pregnant, God took over and did His thing. You know, when nothing else can get the credit and it can only be God thing...Not only did He answer, but He showed out. Two for one. Girls. Both, the desire of my heart.

Day 10--Elaina--quirky, funny, smart. She stumbles through life, but always smiling and happy, just glad to be invited to the party. She's messy and a fountain of disorganization. She can eat her weight in snack food at one sitting. She is dedicated and helpful and has the distinct gift of empathy. No one can hurt in a 50 foot radius without that one knowing it. I am praying now that God calls her clearly and distinctly so that she can use those Gifts for His glory. She is beautiful inside and out. She is a multicolored marker with subtle flavors on canvas. She is silver and periwinkle and dark blue. She is the child of my heart.

Day 11--Elise--list maker, hair dresser, decisive, emotional, smarter than I am, wicked memory--don't say it in front of her, because she will never, ever forget it. Seriously. She knows the name of everyone she has ever met, knows how they are related to everyone else, and can get me back home when I don't know the way. She's driven and dedicated and demanding. She's in charge and everyone knows it. (If they don't, she's sure to clue them in rather quickly.) She is bright pink slashes on concrete. Fortified underneath by a powerful structure of stone, but flowers and rainbows and unicorns painted on the surface. Her imagination is frightening. She is the child most like me.

Day 12--Carter--We figured that that would be it. There would be no more

Johnson males to carry on the namesake, and then God smiled on us again in the form of Carter, the Number One Son. He is the spitting image of his father. It's like I wasn't involved in the least. (Which is a fitting tribute to Johnsons everywhere.) He is my snuggler and laugher and jokester. He is my inventor and my prayer warrior. He is empathetic and driven to pray for those in need. He gives from his heart (I'm talking financially) and has made me proud more than once by emptying his savings to give to someone in pain. He is the real deal and the child most likely to take care of me when I am old. He is subtle shading on soft cotton with a bright light behind it. It's not so much about the outside as it is about the inside, but both combined make him what he is. He is the child destined to be mine from the foundations of the Earth.

Day 13--And then there was Lilly...only twenty months behind her brother. The Twins taught me about the blessings and provision of God, that He is in control and will do more for me than I ever imagined. The Son taught me about the Grace of God and how He goes beyond our needs and fills our desires as well. But Lillian taught me that apart from God I am Nothing. He is in control. I am completely dependent on His will and want to always be fully in it.

A baby coming at 25 weeks will do that to you.

She was so sick, and now so healthy! She is sunshine and light and all things giggly. She is an artist and knows it. She is cranky and funny and silly and flips hot and cold so fast that sometimes it's hard to keep up. She will hit you and hug you in the same five seconds. She's going to be a grand adventure for the first boy who falls in love with her. She's got a spectacular sense of humor and will laugh at herself and laugh at you, even if someone is bleeding. She changed the spelling of her name in Kindergarten. (I'm not joking.) She's bright orange and magenta and all things on fire. She is fine details in ink and watercolor and oil at at the same time. She is my precious jewel and the child I never thought to ask for. She is the most mine.

Psalm 113

1 Praise the LORD.

Praise the LORD, you his servants;
praise the name of the LORD.
2 Let the name of the LORD be praised,

both now and forevermore.

3 From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets,
the name of the LORD is to be praised.
4 The LORD is exalted over all the nations, his glory above the heavens.

5 Who is like the LORD our God,

the One who sits enthroned on high,

6 who stoops down to look

on the heavens and the earth?

7 He raises the poor from the dust

and lifts the needy from the ash heap;

8 he seats them with princes, with the princes of his people.

9 He settles the childless woman in her home

as a happy mother of children.

Praise the LORD.

30 Days of Thankful--Day 9--Nanny Moe

2011-11-09T07:29:00.000-08:00

Elise, Nanny Moe, Elaina

Today I am thankful for Steve's grandmother, Nanny Moe. She died yesterday at the age of 92.

The Husband and I were married for six years before the Shorties came along. Some of his people live in Mississippi, and when I heard that he hadn't visited them in more than a decade, I put my Wife Foot down. (We are GOING to know our relatives, thank you.) So, we loaded up and went for the first of a zillion visits. It's now a twice-a-year destination.

Carter and Nanny

In the beginning, we stayed in Steve's grandmother's spare bedroom on our visits. We called her Nanny Moe. A different side of the family called her Big Momma. Sometimes it was Granny or Nanny. Her husband called her Genevia.

She looked forward to our visits as much as we did. There were homemade breakfasts for twenty people in the mornings, visiting late into the evening, sitting on the swing with coffee. I cherished the time we get to spend with her hearing about her life, her adventures, her Christian walk, her family. I'm so thankful that I got to know Steve's grandmother in a very personal way.

Elise, Elaina, Nanny

After the twins came, we kept going, loading everyone up and driving to Pearl/Jackson to let her visit her great-grandbabies. And when Carter and Lilly came, the same. Her mind had begun to slip a little after the Little Flower was born. Sometimes she thought that Carter was Steve. Sometimes she thought I was her granddaughter. But she always recognized that we belonged to her in some form or fashion.

Steve, Lilly, Nanny

I also became close to Steve's cousin Sandra through this process. (Everyone thinks that she and I are the cousins.) While we were making our twice-a-year sojourns to Mississippi, we became not just relatives, but close friends with Sandra and James. Somewhere in there before Shorties, Sandra was diagnosed with cancer for the second time. I had a real, tangible burden about praying for her healing. It kept me up at nights. It was the first time in my spiritual walk that I had a serious prayer calling for someone as a prayer warrior. I'd heard that phrase before, but had never been called to do it myself.

Sandra and Me at the fair a few years ago. :-)

This was before instant email access, so I wrote snail mail cards and letters of encouragement to her three or four times a week. I love her and James and their kids like they are my own family. Sometimes I think we are guilty of compartmentalizing our families in marriage. Your family and My family. When it should be Our Family.

Ruth 1:16 But Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God."

What a blessing it is to know that I had the privilege of knowing her on Earth and that I will be seeing her again in Heaven! And that through her life, I got to have the real experience of Steve's people becoming my people. Now, that is a life well lived.

30 Days of Thankful--Day 8--Dentistry or Creative Parenting--Whatever

2011-11-07T20:12:00.000-08:00

Today, I am thankful for Dentistry. Well, sort of. We're going to the dentist tomorrow and the orthodontist's office Thursday, so consider this a tribute.

I am personally terrified of the dentist. I used to be almost paralyzed by this fear, until I sort of grew out of it. I had the misfortune of having my orthodonture administered by a complete sadist. No fishy or bunny or duckie paintings anywhere in sight. No friendly women in pink scrubs who called the instruments "Mr. Thirsty" and "Princess Paint". Only a couple of foreign men who could say "open" and "vi-dah" (wider) while shoving metal onto my teeth. Lovely. It's my 1984 fear (If you don't get the reference, you need to read more.)

Seconds before braces

The three older shorties never had this fear. I refused to allow that to happen to my children. I interviewed and toured every single dentist's office in a 100 mile radius from my house. (I'm not joking; we drive 46 miles one way to the pediatric dentist I finally settled on and 36 miles one way to the orthodontist.)

At the house, before the first visit ever happened, we made a game out of going to the dentist--we played it when they were really young so that they'd know every single thing that was coming at the actual visit. By the time they were five, all three could go back by themselves for cleanings. (This is why I'm always in the running for Mother of the Year.)

Getting the braces, still smiling.

The Little Flower has been a special case. She came so early that the enamel on her baby teeth didn't form correctly, so she's had one problem after another through no fault of her own or ours. It just is was it is. So, she requires a little Valium to go see the man, but she goes. Okay, so she's stoned, but she get in the chair on her own. Mostly. Well, there's no screaming, kicking, or hitting. That's pretty close to perfect when dealing with Lillian.

Naynuh is the only Shortie in braces so far. The Fashionista appears to have dodged that bullet, but it's a close call for The Number One Son and The Little Flower. Time will tell.

Right after the first braces were applied. Still smiling!

Naynuh started braces at seven, because her jaw was so out of line. She also had too many teeth and a crazy overbite. That very first visit I cracked jokes from beginning till the end. I told her to stick her hands in the air and yell, "WHEEEE!!!" She wanted to know why on earth she should do that. "Because we just put a trip to Disney World in your mouth and I want to see you smiling and laughing, Young Lady!" (This is how we roll.)

She started at the Orthodontist's office willingly enough, but after a few visits, this unique form of torture just became too much, and she started to cry when we rolled closer to the final destination. I don't blame her. She's eleven and been in braces almost one-third of her life.

With braces, still. Years later.

So, I had to come up with new, interesting forms of ~~bribery~~ motivation. At first, it was all positive reinforcement. (This kid has eaten milkshakes at 9:05 in the a.m. after brackets were added and can rank the taste, ice cream types, thickness, and quality of shakes from Pelham to Jemison like a pro.)

Over four years, the treatments ramped up and required greater motivation. She's really too big to spank now, so I am currently employing the Do it Or I'll Dance discipline method. It's so effective that I'm considering writing a book.

Basically, if she starts whining, I start head bobbing and moving my feet; my right hand begins to drift into what appears to be the start of a wicked car dancing episode. That's usually all it takes. You see, the threat is that if E doesn't lie still and take it like a man, I'll break down all over Dr. Boggin's office. I mean a hand waving, hip swaying, shake your milkshake kind of a throw down like you can't touch this.

Lilly at the Dentist. High as a kite.

The key to a threat working with your kids is that they have to know that you mean it. Clearly, I am the kind of mom who would dance in public at the drop of a hat in order to humiliate my children. She hasn't cried, moaned, or even complained one time since that first threat. All I have to do is start nodding with the beat of whatever jam is on the Muzak and it's Compliance City.

The real reason I'm thankful for the dentist isn't the clean teeth or cavities filled or even teeth straightening--those are spectacular bonuses. It's really more that the entire experience has honed my parenting skills into a finely tuned art form. Submission through potential humiliation. Oh, and the end result? Not only straight teeth, but we laugh from the beginning of the dental experience until the end. :-)

Now, I just have to dig up what exactly will motivate The Little Flower, because as of this moment, she's more likely to break it down in the dentist's office than I am. But today, in this second, I am thankful for creative parenting and dentistry in that order.

30 Days of Thankful--Day 7--Mondays

2011-11-07T05:22:00.000-08:00

Today, I am thankful for Mondays.

I know that might be a stretch, but have you really thought about what Monday means? Since I am a Christian, on Sundays I get the honor of going into the House of the Lord and worshiping. I am renewed and refreshed and revitalized for the week to come. Then, on Monday, I get to put into action what happened to me on Sunday. It's like Go Time!

I know that this admission makes me a bit of a freak, but I love Mondays.

My week lies before me like so much adventure on the page, but yet unrealized. It smells like optimism. (yeah, that's right; I teach English.)

See, on Monday, The Husband cranks the car to get it warm for me, and hands me a cup of coffee with vanilla creamer in it. (Monday reminds me that I'm married to a thoughtful, kind man who puts his needs above my own, and I am always cared for and cherished. Guys? It's the little things that show love more than just some words.)

The Four Shorties, Bonus Kids, eight book bags and sports bags and cheer bags and P.E. bags pile into the Family Truckster and we're off to school. (Someone once asked me how many kids I have exactly, and then said observer commented that we look like the clown car emptying into the Big Top when we pile out of the Yukon.) We pray on the drive, listen to incredibly interesting songs, make fun of each other, car dance (sometimes Chris sings, and you can't imagine what a blessing that is), and we discuss the upcoming day. It's loud and crazy and funny. I like it. (I am reminded how blessed I am to have so many 'children' in my life.)

Then we arrive at the school where I get to teach. Like for money and stuff. (So cool.) I don't have a class until 9:00, so I get to enjoy peace and quiet for an hour. I go visit in the lunchroom and go visit in the office. I have a second cup of coffee (or a Mountain Dew depending on the season), and I pray over my classroom and do my devotional. It's the only time I'm not doing something student-oriented during the day. (I am reminded how blessed I am to have a job that I look forward to every single day.)

On Mondays, I have lesson plans laid out, and my calendar is highlighted in seven different colors, waiting to happen. It's like being on the cusp of being something brilliant. (It could happen.)

We have Zaxby's for lunch on Mondays, which means that I don't have to pack lunches, and I get to see my two dear friends, Willie and Jenny in the lunchroom again. (win-win) I get to check my in-box in the office where a zillion people need stuff from me, and I generally can help them. I don't have any tests on Mondays, so there's nothing to grade. (whoot! It's like my personal no-homework night.)

Mondays, we don't have practice for anything, so we get home earlier than most days. And Mondays we do some sort of Bible thingy at church--like Beth Moore or Dave Ramsey--so, more often than not, I don't have to cook dinner either. Sometimes there's even time to walk or nap between school and church.

I LOVE Mondays!

So, the next time you are tempted to moan about it being Monday again (sigh), count your blessings instead.

You woke up in a warm house.
You are surrounded by family (even if they are cranky)
You packed lunches or ate breakfast. (you have access to food)
You got into a car that started and rolled.
You went to a job that paid you money.
You get my drift.

30 Days of Thankful--Day 6--Thankful for the Ebenezers

2011-11-05T16:47:00.000-07:00

I am thankful for the Ebenezers.

Okay, so that you all don't have to rush for the Webster's, an Ebenezer is a marker--specifically, a spiritual marker like a stone or an altar or a physical place of worship--where you mark what God has done in your life in order to remember it in the future. It comes from I Samuel as the name of the stone that Samuel raised to commemorate a victory of the Philistines at Mizpeh.

Anyhoo...

My Ebenezers come from the Christmas Village.

I know, right?

Christmas Village is this craft show that is so enormous it takes up two floors of the civic center in Birmingham. It's like Christmas Mecca. I never miss it. And every year I buy a Christmas ornament from this particular booth that sells these homemade dough ornaments. Outside of some bows and a handful of glass balls, they make up the entire decoration of our Christmas tree. So, my trip Saturday to the Christmas Village isn't a shopping excursion, it's a trip to a Holy Place, where I select something new to commemorate our year as a family.

They are Ebenezers marking milestones in the life of Johnsonville.

When it was only Steve and Charlotte--our first Christmas

1995, one year into our marriage.
We had two cats--Bonnie and Boo and an insane dog named Raja

1998 Boo got out of the house and ran away--then there was just Bonnie and Raja.

1999 For years it was only Raja and Bonnie...we prayed and prayed. Fasted.
Begged other people to pray. Asked God to bless us with children...

And then it happened! We discovered we were going to be parents!
God heard the pleas of our prayers, lifted up by so, so many people! Praise the Lord!

Enter the Dynamic Duo--Elise and Elaina, who were the direct
Hand of God in our lives.

This same year we took our first pastorate--Wilton!
God opened an amazing door and we walked right through it.

And the girls grew and grew...only 20 months later...guess what?

The Lord blessed us with Carter! The Number One Son! He came
only 20 months after the twins.

Family of five...two girls and a boy. Whew! We're done.

Or maybe not. God gave and just kept on giving when we discovered we were
pregnant with Lillian Grace, who was born 20 months after Carter.

So, we went from four years of infertility to four kids in four years.
God's funny that way. There's no way anyone could say anything about that
being happenstance.

And for many years it was the six of us.

Mellie joined our happy home! What a blessing that
little ball of fur has been.

And then, Nana joined our house in 2009 after being diagnosed
with cancer. And she's still here with us! Praise the Lord!

Christmas 2010

Mellie is still hanging in there! 2011

2011 So is Nana! :-) God is so good!

What are your Ebenezer's? Your markers along the road of your spiritual journey? Thank God for making a way when it seemed there wasn't one. Thank God for the little things and the big things, because He gives them all. And mark your journey so that your children can see the Hand of the Almighty along the way. Just so you don't forget what the Lord brought you from, through, and to.

Thankfulness--Day Five--CCA

2011-11-05T08:45:00.000-07:00

The team before their first game.

I'm thankful for our school-Chilton Christian Academy.

Sports at a small Christian school are much different than at a large high school. Everyone makes the team. Here, everyone gets to play. Everyone gets a shot. Even the little guys. And it's less about the winning and more about the learning--the character education that kids receive learning by watching Godly men lead and direct them.

The cheerleaders ready to fire the crowd up

And it's about more than the score--it's about the entire school being involved in something bigger than one person or even a team of people. It's about the entire school supporting one another. It's self sacrificing and hard working and demanding excellence from oneself and one's teammates. And it helps you move from being friends, to being teammates, to being family. It's completely cliche, but at CCA, we are a family.

State Champions!--After our final game

I'm thankful for football. Specifically I'm thankful for Chilton Christian Patriot Football. I'm thankful for coach Todd who had the foresight to see this new 6-man football thing and get with it. I'm thankful for lay people who receive no pay like Caleb, Michael, and Kevin who came and gave their time anyway. And folks like Marilyn and Christa who coached the cheer squad just because. And people who cooked food and organized meals like Kim and Daphne. And everyone who came and cheered.

David, Pam, and Chris

We fielded our first 6-man football team this year. Literally ten minutes before our first game, the coaches discovered that you could, in fact, rush the quarterback. We'd been preparing differently all summer. So, we lost that one, but not by much (especially not by what we should have based on that fact.)

We went on to win all but one other game--against Marion--who we wound up facing again in the championship game. Talk about your prime time Cinderella special set up. Our star running back is injured, we are running a new offense, and we are facing the only team that beat us after we figured out that the QB could be rushed. Hello? Awesome.

Tracy and Carl

And we pulled it out with an amazing defense, a powerful offense, and coaches who kept pressing the team to a new level of play. And my bonus kids were a huge part of that team. You can't imagine how proud I was to stand on that field, the scoreboard lit up 58-50, with Carl hugging his momma, Tracy, one one side of me, and Chris hugging his momma, Pam, on the other side of me and knowing that their entire lives have been changed by this experience. And CCA gets a ton of credit for that change.

The moment the last second ran off of the clock.

If you've never considered a small, Christian school, you might want to rethink it. The academics are solid and operating on an AP level. The teachers know every child not only by name, but by character and personality, and are involved. The elementary school and high school are interested in one another and support each other (the high school cheered on the 4th grade "band" like it was the Super Bowl halftime show). We are a family. And today, I am thankful for the parents, coaches, teammates, cheerleaders, and everyone who compose my CCA Family.

Our first basketball game is next Thursday. CCA--I'll see you there! Oh, and before that, I'll see you in English class on Monday, where you are all expected to go into the Hall of Fame for English Writers. Go, Patriots!

Hey, give me a break, it was cold and I wore a hat all night. :-)
Chris, Me, Carl.

Day Four--Thankful for the What If

2011-11-04T06:26:00.000-07:00

I am thankful for parents who loved to read and introduced me at a very early age to reading as a lifestyle, not something done for a class requirement. There is never a time I don't have a book (or two, or three) in progress and readily available. To say that I love reading is a gross understatement. It's like saying I like chocolate. Completely inadequate.

And I love all flavors of books--I love adventures and science fiction and fantasy. I love a love story and pulp fiction and silly stories. I love good dialogue and interesting characters and strange, exotic ideas.

archanN on deviantART

But my favorite thing of all is a "What If" story. Like

What If We All Went Blind From a Virus?

Or What If Rabbits Really had Conscious Thought?

Or What If We Lived in a Genetically Engineered Society?

Stuff like that.

Because the "What If" is probably the most powerful driving force in our minds.

It's the reason we question everything and invent new things and explore unknown places. It's why we spelunk and dive and tie ourselves to rockets and shoot into space. It's why someone plugged in an amp and why someone put sugar in the chocolate and why we have indoor plumbing. To answer "What If".

I'm thankful that God made us to be curious explorers of this amazing world and inventors and artists. The mind is such a rich place. I'm thankful for books and parents and teachers who always encouraged me to ask "What If".

It's indirectly how I found Christ.

I asked "What if this isn't all there is to life..."

Thankfulness Day Three--The Beauticians

2011-11-02T19:50:00.000-07:00

(After haircuts!

In case you hadn't noticed, I'm going for the less-obvious things to be thankful for in my Thirty Days of Thankfulness. I mean, everyone is probably thankful for home, family, Christ, but I want to focus on the obscure things that you might not ever think of, such as...

I am thankful for my hairdressers.

Kathy Wright at Personal Touch in downtown Montevallo has been doing my hair for 15 years. (This is as long as I've known my gynecologist, only Kathy knows me better.) Her partner in crime, er, hairdo's, is Amy Vanderslice. The two of them are like a dynamic duo of amazing hair performance.

Mrs. Kathy cutting Carter's hair

I've been long, short, dyed, natural, fried, curly, straight, and once left the shop with hair so big I almost single-handedly revived the entire 80's hair band movement. How big was it? It was so big that The Husband actually noticed I'd been to the beauty shop. Ahem.

Amy cuts the Wondertwins; Kathy cuts the Number One Son and The Little Flower. Sometimes they swap up. Like Kathy cuts The Husband's hair, but Amy does his nose and ears (which has exponentially increased her rewards in Heaven like you can't even imagine).

But the actual hair part isn't the important thing here.

Ms. Amy cutting Carter's hair

They are like seeing a therapist every six weeks. They tolerate screaming shorties. They listen to me moan and complain and are professional secret keepers. They are funny and laugh constantly, even when in pain. They are spirit lifters and encouragers and wonderful human beings. They are my friends. I can't wait to go to the beauty shop. I am revived when I leave, and we look beautiful, dahling.

Carter with his "faux-hawk"

How much influence have these women had in our lives? The Fashionista wants to be a 'salonist' when she grows up, so she's planning on a psychology degree. That's what I call brilliant right there, because the only therapists I see on a regular are Amy and Kathy, and they are doing a bang up job of it.

They donate their time to all of my side projects--like Amy came and did Elise's hair last year when E made the Homecoming Court. For free. Because she loves my daughter. And Elise would rather sit with Mrs. Amy in church than with me. Kathy came and did hair for the play I put on last Spring. She did like ten heads of hair. For free. And they both have worked the GA Fashion Shows. For free. Because I asked for help.

Steve and Elise--hairdo for the Homecoming Court

I am thankful for my beauticians. You are making the world more beautiful one head of hair at a time. Rock on, Ladies.

At a church event--Steve, Amy, and Lilly

Thankfulness--Day Two--All My Bonus Chil-ren

2011-11-01T17:02:00.000-07:00

The Four Shorties

I took this stupid aptitude test in high school and at the bottom of the paperwork you could write down in a blank space what you wanted to be when you grew up. I put "Mother" in the blank. The feminazi of a guidance counselor called me into the office for a private audience to discuss not "wasting" my life as a housewife. (ahem) In retrospect, I'm pretty sure that she was just afraid I was planning on getting pregnant right then or something and was staging her version of a misguided high school intervention. I meant later, after college, with The Husband. Duh.

Chris and Carl

I always wanted to be a mother. Everyone who knows us for five seconds knows that we went through infertility for four years and then had four shorties in four years (this is known as Spiritual Irony), but what you may not know is that we have collected around us a wide assortment of Bonus Kids--children who are just, well, ours too even though I didn't birth them. Sometimes we call them Honorary Johnsons or Johnsons by Association. Same result--they go with us on vacations and get special Christmas gifts and I get to "mother" them simply by being involved in a little, tiny way in their lives.

Some CCA Students

It's much more of a blessing to me than it is to them. At last count, I've got three Official Bonus Kids--Hannah, Carl, and Chris--and I praise God that I get to know them.

And then there are My High School Students, who never cease to amaze me. I love them so very much. Sometimes they call my name one time too many, but the rewards far outweigh the demands. I can't really remember what I did before I worked at Chilton Christian Academy. I've talked them into all sorts of craziness, and they've talked me into all sorts of craziness. It's a win-win.

Some USBC Youth

And then there are My Youth from Church--the ones I get to know best to the human video dramas with me. I'm also a go-to girl to drive the bus to and fro--you get to see the most interesting things that way. I dig them and they dig me. It's all good.

And then there are my GAs--for those not in the know, this is the Girls in Action missions class made up of 1st-6th graders at church. I teach them on Wednesday evenings at church. I love making exotic foods and arts and crafts and doing prayer journals and taking field trips. It's the bomb.

GAs at Missions Camp

I got the desire of my heart...and isn't that a fabulous reason to be thankful?

Psalm 37:4 Take delight in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart.

30 Days of Thankful--Day One

2011-11-01T07:51:00.000-07:00

I have a very good friend who did 31 days of blessings for cancer awareness month. I have another friend who does a blog called Thankful Thursdays where she recounts all of the things to be thankful for. She has challenged us to put up 30 days of Thankfulness. Here we go:

Day One:

Today I am thankful for Elise, one of my twins, the one I call The Fashionista. Last night she made me laugh so hard that I almost shot sweet tea out of my nose. If that's not a reason for thankfulness, I don't know one.

Two youth from school/church came trick or treating to Casa Johnson last night. When they first left the McDonald's in town, hunting up something to do, they went to the coach's house and borrowed "costumes" from the young boys who live there. Cowboy outfits. So, thirty minutes later, all dressed up as Tex and Roy complete with stick horses, hats, and pop guns, they rang the doorbell of the Offensive Line Coach's house, and he promptly asked the quarterback and star running back why they were dresssed up as Brokeback Mountain. Ahem.

Talk about your quick change up. Suddenly, one was a cowboy and one had on the mask from Scream and a tasteful sweatshirt with hoodie.

Which is where they enter Scene II, Stage Left, Casa Johnson. 8:30 in the p.m. the doorbell rings. We are all showered and in our jammies watching the Halloween episode of Dancing with the Stars. When the bell rings, I tell Elise that it's her turn to get the door. She gets the bag of Little Debbies (we never have trick or treaters, but just in case, the light is on and the Little Debbie black and orange cakes are ready to rock). She sees one teen in a Scream mask, puts the snack cake in his pillow case and shuts the door.

Pause.

Harder door knock. I ask Elise if the trick or treaters were older kids. Affirmative.
So, I go to the door with Elise. Hiding behind Chris in the Scream Mask is Will the Cowboy who aims his wooden gun and says, "Put your hands up" at the same time Chris in the Scream Mask eases his face around the door frame.

I don't know whose house they thought they were at, but in Johnsonville, this isn't a moment for running and screaming; this is a moment to go Sister Sunshine on 'em.

Elise Johnson assumed the Wonder Woman Rape Prevention Attack Stance, feet spread to shoulder level, and then bashed Chris's nose in through his mask. I mean a quality, open-palm, straight upward shot to the face. It was a beautiful thing.

Chris, who was now holding his face and moaning, dropped down enough for Elise to finally get a good view of Will behind him (who was now pointing and laughing hysterically) and she screamed, "Oh, it's WILL! It's Will!" That's right, Elise thought she was under attack and instead of her "flee" spinal reaction kicking in, the "fight" spinal reaction overrode it and she jacked that other kid up.

Awesome.

And that is why I am thankful this morning. :-) Elise Johnson, You are My Hero.

The 99%

2011-10-30T19:05:00.000-07:00

I try to be funny on my blog. I don’t really enjoy controversy, but sometimes you read or see or hear something and you just can’t stop yourself. This Occupy Wallstreet thing is confusing to me. I don’t like being confused, so I read articles. Read opinion pieces. Then, I pulled up all of these photos from Facebook where people have written their stories online and are telling their version of events that cause them to be in the 99% of abused workers, out of work employees, students who can’t afford to be in school, etc. It’s really heartbreaking. I mean awful. Looking at photo after photo of people who can’t pay their bills and don’t have healthcare.

At first. Until I started really looking at some of those photos.

I first noticed that these people have some sort of computer or phone with a camera and Internet service to upload their stuff. A few were actually posting from IPhones (that I can’t begin to afford) or had expensive items in the background.

Professional grooming, make up, hair dye.
This woman isn't poor.

Most of the woman had on makeup and nail polish and rings, dyed hair and were professionally groomed. One woman had (and I counted to be sure) 12 bottles of premium brand alcohol on a shelf behind her in the photo. I couldn’t count them all because she was standing in front of them. She announced in her own hand writing on a sign that she held up in front of her body that she’s in school to become a teacher. (Lovely.) Another woman had a television the size of my kitchen table featured prominently in the background. (The newest television in my house is 18 years old. I’m not joking.) I bet she’s got cable and Netflix for that bad boy too. Huh.

More than a $1,000 in alcohol on the back shelf. Books. Art.
This woman isn't poor.

Here are some of the reasons these folks count themselves in the 99%:

1) “I am a single mother.”

And this is my problem because…

2) “I have student debt.”

How about this radical thought—don’t start school if you don’t know how you are going to pay for it. My four kids will probably not qualify for loans or student aid or grants. They will have to work while going to school. They will have to apply for scholarships. They have to get scholarships or they won’t be going to school. This is why we push the A/B Honor Roll and academics like we are on fire. They may even have to join the military to have their school paid for—the boys and the girls.

Or, brief pause for the huge gasp of air intake, they may not get to go to college and will need to find a trade. I’d guess that plumbers, hair dressers, mechanics, and electricians haven’t hurt nearly as much as college grads have during this economic downturn. College isn’t a right or something you even have to have. In fact, lots of folks are going to school who shouldn’t have started in the first place. Perhaps you were one of these people. How many of us are working in our field of study? Uh-huh. I thought so.

Electronic pad in the background, drapes, decorative plates.
This woman isn't poor.

3) “I don’t garden for fun; I garden so that I won’t go hungry again.”

No, duh. Do you think your grandparents gardened for FUN? Welcome to the way things used to be. You may have to go back to them. I’d get ready to, in fact.

4) “I am $10-20-30,000 in debt without a job.”

When did YOUR debt become my responsibility or anyone else’s for that matter? Don’t purchase things that you can’t afford. You don’t have to have a TV, phone, the Internet, 22 pairs of shoes, two cars, eat out Chinese food, or even own a home. You wanted those things and now are dismayed that the bill has come due. Who is supposed to pay for your stuff? The rich? At what point do we collectively agree that sometimes it’s just our own faults. Why you think that people who could afford their purchases should pay for yours too is completely beyond me.

5) “I can’t earn a livable wage.”

TV the size of my dinette. Nicer home than I live in.
Nice stuff. These people are not poor.

No, you just want everything you want without having to sacrifice for it. I hate to break this to you, but if you have a car, a TV, Internet, a computer, a phone, cable, any kind of music player, and food in your pantry you are not poor. You may be broke due to terrible life choices, but you are not poor. How did your parents do it? Hmmm…

I worked for the same company for 14 years. I moved to another company where I was laid off after six months. It wasn’t a big whoop. Why? We saved our money. We never spent all that came in. We paid our taxes. We pulled our children out of public school and now pay tuition on top of the money will still give to the government to a school system we do not attend.

I work at my job to pay for our health insurance and our kids’ tuition. I literally write them a check every month to work there. No complaints AT ALL! My children are getting an exceptional education, we have health insurance (to the tune of $1,200.00 a month out of pocket), and I get to see my babies more than most stay-at-home moms. This is called “sacrificing”. Some people should give it a go. We have four children and my mother lives with us—that’s seven people in our home and my husband’s income qualifies us for free lunch at the public school (that we don’t take advantage of because we private school--I've had enough of the dadgum government).

We tithe—that means that 10% of our gross income before taxes goes voluntarily to the church before it goes to our living expenses. That’s right, before we pay for a car or gas or food or lights we pay God the bare minimum that we owe Him for giving us life, which in turn goes to the poor in our community and world. And according to His promise in Philippians 4, we have always had our needs met.

Hey, 99%? How about trying this for fun?

Pay cash for everything. If you can’t pay for it, don’t get it. (if you bought concert tickets, went to a show, saw a movie, watched cable, had coffee out, bought a Big Mac, used disposable diapers, etc., you are not poor. You wanted what you wanted and got it.)

Learn to cook from scratch. It’s a zillion times cheaper than eating out or buying convenience foods. (If you bought fast food or ate outside of your home, you are not poor.)

Save until you can afford what you want/need. Use everything you purchase until it can’t be repaired anymore. (If you bought anything on credit, you are not poor.)

Don’t get a credit card. Ever. For any reason. The debtor is SLAVE to the lender. Proverbs 22:7 “The rich rule over the poor, and the borrower is slave to the lender.” That was written over 2,000 years ago. Hello? 99%? Even Jesus Christ knew this. What took you so long? (Oh, yeah, we don’t read that Book anymore…)

You don’t need brand new shoes—the thrift store sells them. You don’t need brand new toys for Christmas—the thrift store sells them. I shop both of those places for everything—our clothing, our household items, etc. If we can’t find it there, we head to the sales racks at discount stores. I don’t pay full price for anything.

We have abandoned God as a nation, yet think that we should still be blessed, and then expect Him to meet our needs. Um, not how it works. Here’s a basic lesson in God Economics:

2 Corinthians 8:2-5 2 In the midst of a very severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity. 3 For I testify that they gave as much as they were able, and even beyond their ability. Entirely on their own, 4 they urgently pleaded with us for the privilege of sharing in this service to the Lord’s people. 5 And they exceeded our expectations: They gave themselves first of all to the Lord, and then by the will of God also to us.

NOT THE RICH, THE POOR GAVE!!! Hello???? Anyone? Anyone?

Here’s the truth: If you took every dime that the 1% earns, it wouldn’t be enough.

I have never taken money from my parents. My parents don’t pay our bills. We live modestly. We eat at home most of the time. We tell our children that we can’t afford things like the fair and the ice cream truck and that they can’t have most of their wants. We have insurance on everything—life, cars, house, health--because we grasp that if The Husband dies, I cannot support four kids by myself, and if I die, he can’t afford to replace what I do either. We’d eat beans (and have eaten beans) before not having insurance.

We shop at the thrift store. We do not have a credit card. We still have the same television (that was given to us second hand) and dinette set we started our marriage with 17 years ago. We use the same book bags for years—until the handles fall off. We give away everything that doesn’t fit to other families, and we are clothed by people who do the same for us. I can make a pound of ground beef feed all seven of us (plus drop-ins) two nights in a row. We only spend $200.00 per child for Christmas total, and I save for that all year long. We also buy Christmas for three other families. My husband has refused a raise for the past four years in order to keep more of the money in our church. We have no debt.

Dave Ramsey is the most powerful thing that ever happened in our lives after accepting Jesus Christ as personal Savior. I think that the bulk of business-minded people grasped that the rich would get richer and the poor would get poorer. It’s the principle of exponential math—if you invest and don’t touch your money, it grows exponentially over time. Hence, the rich get much, much richer simply by saving and investing. The goal should be “how do I get into that club?” not “how do I take money from other people’s savings accounts?”

I’m sorry if your house was foreclosed on. YOU borrowed money from a bank that you PROMISED to pay back to them. They took all of the risk. You didn’t pay. It’s not heartless. You took advantage and didn’t pay back money you borrowed. This makes you the liar in the deal. (The borrower is SLAVE to the lender.) I realize that most people fully intend to pay the money back, but if you can’t, you have to accept that you have failed to keep your word, not the bank.

We’ve been in church work a long time. The bulk of people who come to the church for help don’t come one time. They come for years in a row, without a single change in their personal circumstances. Occasionally, you get someone who needs emergency help—like a boost to get over Christmas or a little help with school supplies or something like that, but the vast majority is comprised of people who never work, always need help, and never change. I look at the photos from this “movement” and I see a spoiled people who bought things they couldn’t afford with money they didn’t have and participated in sin that led them to the place they find themselves and want me to pay for the party without any personal consequence.

The real wake-up call might have been mine. I do not trust my government to manage the money that I give them now. Why would I want them in charge of taking more money from corporations and giving it to people in need (where I don’t think it will go anyway)? I think that’s sort of the job of the church. Also, if you decide the government is the answer to all of your needs, keep in mind that someone is paying for that party…in blood or money. Socialist countries almost always require military service from the working class, unless you can pay your way out of it. That’s something to mull over.

Looking at those photos did the opposite of making me sympathetic; it made me angry. Do you know why? Because we have abandoned God, and that is the real reason for this present crisis. That's the flat out truth of the matter. If we were tithing, God promised to meet our every NEED. If we were living Biblically as a people, there would be no debt or mortgage crisis. If we were following the Word and taking care of our own poor and needy, there would be nothing to discuss. And I am in the 99%.

We Don't Need No Stinking Costumes

2011-10-27T11:25:00.000-07:00

Halloween is a strange time at our house. We don't celebrate this 'holiday', but we still enjoy the dressing up and candy portions via a Fall Festival (aka Halloween party) at church. :-)

So, this year I thought we'd all dress up as a theme. That was met with the standard pre-teen eye roll accompanied by a heartfelt, "Muh-ther". Ahem.

The Fashionista wanted to go as Big Bird. Great! So, we could all be characters off of Seseme Street, brilliant! (I can totally see me and husband as Bert and Ernie. Ha!) Mother!

Naynuh wanted to be the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland. Brilliant! I've always wanted to be the White Rabbit or the Cheshire Cat! Mother!

The Little Flower picked out a Toad costume, as in Mario Brothers, NOT Wind in the Willlows (sigh). Brilliant! Daddy and I can be Mario and Luigi. Mother!

The Number One Son chose this thing called a Morph Suit like his cousin Jimmy in Mississippi wore to the fair. Before I could get the 'Brilliant' formed in my mouth The Husband informed me that he wasn't putting one of those things on for a million dollars.

So, The Husband is going as himself.. E1 is going as the Mad Hatter. E2 is going as Big Bird. C is going as a Morph Man. And L is going as Toad. We are going in a group...a group of really eccentric characters. We each chose the strangest characters off of each show...think about it. The Mad Hatter? Big Bird? Toad? So, in keeping with theme, I am going as Lillian. She's the strangest kid in The Johnson Show for sure. (I crack myself up.)

Lillian aka Naked Princess

Lilly sleeping with helmet and sunglasses

She wore this Batman costume of her brothers for the better part of a year.

Playing in the dog crate.

Superstar

Sleeping in a bucket on her bed

Dressed up for maxium video game success.

I'm the Home Ec. Teacher. No, I'm not Joking.

2011-10-16T18:50:00.000-07:00

For anyone who knows me personally, this is going to be a belly buster laughing sort of moment.

I'm teaching Home Ec.

Well, they are calling it Life Skills for the senior class, but it's basically Home Economics. This is the stupidest thing that has happened to me since I became the pastor's wife. Talk about unqualified. I am unbelievably unqualified for this teaching experience. I'm a terrible homemaker. No, really. I mean it.

It's sort of like when people find out we have four kids--the next question they ask is, "Oh, do you homeschool?" Um, no. Just because I over bred, I wasn't suddenly tranformed into a pre-school/elementary school teacher. I realize that I'm completely unqualified to homeschool, so it wasn't an option. Not only that, but I'd kill The Fashionista. (I'm not joking.) Same way, I'm not exaggerating my lack of homemaking skills. I really stink at it. And I'm not all that concerned. God, The Husband, and I are all good here.

Now, for those who don't know me all that well, I'll illustrate exactly why this is so thigh-slapping funny.

1) I hate to clean. No, really. I have a maid.

2) I am an average cook and make most things that are best described as "truck stop food".

3) I have a widespread reputation as a house plant killer from way back. The entire Wal-Mart nursery section shudders collectively when I roll through, praying to the plant gods that it isn't their day.

4) I don't coupon, don't make homemade soaps or cleaners, and I don't do anything crafty. Please don't make me. Please.

5) My laundry room looks like a bomb went off in it. If it's cleaned up, something is bad wrong.

6) The idea of making something crafty makes me slightly nauseated. I don't own a staple or glue gun, and I don't want either. I will borrow one if there is a crafting emergency.

7) My mother crochets like a wild woman. I've got blankets and throws and stuff from one end of my house to the other, hence, there is absolutely no reason for me to learn to crochet.

8) I don't sew. If something needs a button or rips, this is a sign from God that I'm supposed to put it into the donation bin or give it to my mother to fix. Needles are for getting splinters out of Shorties.

9) If something takes more than seven ingredients to make, it's officially Too Complicated.

10) I don't own any specialized pans. No cheesecake pans, no bundt pans, no double boilers. Again, falling into the category "Too Complicated".

I'm the Home Ec. teacher. Are you getting the humor now? Lord, help us all. This might be one of the signs of The End. Y'all better start praying for me and those students right now.

The State Fair

2011-10-13T08:17:00.000-07:00

E-Squared and the Mississippi Crew

Every year we pilgrimage as a family to visit The Husband's People in Mississippi. They live in the Pearl, MS area, so we load up the Shorties and drive four hours for a visit over our fall break. The State Fair is up and running the week of our fall break, so it's double the fun. We arrive at the fair at around noon and stay until they throw us out. It's exhausting and expensive and silly--perfectly Johnson.

Several meaningless observations about the state fair:

As though the corn dog alone wasn't offensive enough...

One, the only real reason to go to the fair is the food. And you better save up all of your points for that one day, because just walking around breathing in the fumes is fattening. Rib eye steak sandwich, chicken on a stick, cinnamon rolls the size of your head, cotton candy, candy apples, polish dogs, funnel cake...there is absolutely nothing nutritionally redeeming about fair food. They even cover the apples in caramel just to make sure. Of course the first thing that you want to do after ingesting 3,000 calories and 500 grams of fat is ride something that spins rapidly for three minutes.

Two, those rides are intended for people under the age of 20. Seriously. You think to yourself, "Oh, it looks like so much fun," but just like Satan tempting you to do evil, it never, ever works out the way you imagined it. (My neck and vertigo are screaming at me as I type this.) They even name the rides to give you one last chance to come to your senses: the Scrambler, the Ring of Fire, the Maniac, the Freak Out. How smart are you that you purchase a ticket to get on something called the Scrambler? If you are over the age of 30 and get on those rides, you should have to carry a sign that says, "Warning, my gene pool is questionable."

Three, fair people are an entirely different group of mammals. Like they should have their own classification system. First, everyone puts on the strangest things to go to the fair. Hoochie Mama is suddenly a viable fashion statement. And even the hideously fat, ugly women have gotten confused into thinking that showing more of their bodies is somehow making them more attractive. Um, not the case.

Our cousin (on The Husband's side of the aisle, ahem) wore a thing called a Morph Suit. Out in public. To the fair.

Now, in his defense he's sixteen, that alone redeems anything stupid that he chooses to do, but this thing is a whole new level of weird. He and his buddies met up wearing different colored morph suits. They ended up being interviewed by a reporter passing through town who is writing a book about what makes America America. (Interesting that he interviewed the three sixteen-year-olds dressed in body condoms, but that's another blog.)

I stood on the main crossroads and looked around the fair just as the sun was setting and the lights were starting to come on. Bright colors, lights swirling, screaming girls, smelling fried food on the cool, autumn breeze, and I turned to The Husband and whispered, "This is why the world hates us so--we are a land of excess. What are we riding next?"

Fall Freshen Up

2011-10-09T19:11:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it's hard to do the right thing. That's usually how you know it's the Right Thing to Do. And not everyone will love you for doing the right thing. In fact, some folks will really, really not like you for it.

So, for the Christian, the final authority has to be God's Word, not Your Opinion. It's a tough pill to swallow sometimes, since I like being right. (I really like being right.) I want to be right all of the time, but if I can't back it up in Scripture using the Holy Spirit as guide and God the Father as my sounding board through prayer, it's hollow with no substance. I mean, I can call myself the Queen of Persia all I want; calling myself so doesn't make me the queen of anything in reality.

We are called to love one another in God's Word. Saying we love one another means nothing without action. It means that you have to take me, warts and all. You have to tolerate me when I am unlovable. You have to forgive me when I am difficult. And I have to do the same for you. It's what makes us not just church members, but church family.

We also need to remember that we are called to service. If you will spend more time focusing on what God has for you to DO and less time on what others around you are doing (or not doing, as the case may be), I promise that your walk with the Lord will be less stressful, more enjoyable, and more productive. I don't judge Elise's work by Elaina's effort. Each child in my house is judged on his/her individual contribution regardless of the others. It is the same with God. I am held accountable for MY gifts, talents, work, submission, offerings, and devotion to the state of holiness--thank God that I don't have the burden of being responsible for anyone outside of me!

I started examining myself, and as usual, it's been horrifying. Am I as close to God as I ever have been in my life? Am I closer to holiness or further away? Am I diligent in my discipleship and prayer life--as though starving and thirsting for the Word? Am I loving others when they are unlovable? Am I serving and giving the way the Holy Spirit is guiding me? Am I clean and pure in the sight of the Lord? If not, I've got enough shaking the trees in my own backyard to keep me busy for quite some time.

I better get busy now; I've got a lot of cleaning up to do.

Drama, oh, the Horror!

2011-10-03T14:37:00.000-07:00

I love, love, love teaching high school English. (And no, that wasn't sarcasm, I was being completely serious.) I love the literature. I love their sense of humor. I love it when something finally clicks, and I can actually hear the gears whirring and humming in their little heads, processing new info, learning something of value. It's incredibly rewarding. Seeing a student's writing go from horrific to passable and finally onto something special is something I can't quite describe. It's fulfilling. And then there are days like today...

Days full of "Drama". I tell you, the soaps may be off of the television, but the over-acting is alive and well in the halls of the high school. Erg. They are almost out of control.

I found this really good website with info that I am re-posting here. Some of you need to read it. Some of you need to read it twice. (You know who you are.)

http://www.surfinthespirit.com/

God wants the best for us in every area of our lives. This includes friendships:

You are known by the company you keep.

We tend to become like the company we keep. This principle is just as important in friendships as in dating. "Do not be misled: Bad company corrupts good character." (1 Corinthians 15:33)

Friendships

Proverbs 17:17 says "A friend loves you all the time, and a brother helps in time of trouble."

Understand the truth about your reputation.

Is hanging around this friend bringing down your reputation? Do people think that you are doing the same thing(s) your friend is doing? Find a true friend who can keep you accountable.

If you are starting the mess, just stop it. I mean literally, stop it. Stand up and loudly tell anyone you see being a jackwagon to stop it. Stand up and loudly proclaim that if we call the name of Christ, we sure shootin' better be living it by everything that comes out of our mouths, because it's a direct reflection of what is really in our hearts.

If that fails, go get an adult. I assure you that I'll tell someone exactly where to get off of the bus if someone is bullying you or harrassing you. It's unacceptable behavior and inconsistant with a Christ-like calling. It's only funny to the people not being teased (and even then it should be repulsive to the heart of true Christians).
Don't run your mouth. Just shut it. Not everything you know needs to be said out loud (in fact, probably 70% of it needs to be kept private.) Don't share info about other students. Don't gossip. Don't backbite. Don't lie. Don't exaggerate. Don't be foul-mouthed. Don't sow or encourage discord/fighting. Don't be THAT person! We will all know you by your fruit.

And Ladies and Gentleman? If someone is talking smack about that person over there, the second your back is turned they are talking smack about you too. Keep that in mind when you listen to gossip! You are being talked about out of that exact same mouth you were listening to a minute ago.

Just stand up for what is good and right! Be holy and love what is holy! Be a good friend.

A Real Superhero

2011-09-23T19:01:00.000-07:00

I had to miss the high school football game because The Little Flower has a toothache. When she told me that she couldn't make Apple Day in First Grade because she "needed to go to the dentist", you can get an idea of how bad it was. (This is the chick who needs a Valium to get her teeth cleaned.) We couldn't get her in for an appointment today; evidently, the Pediatric Dentists voted unanimously at their last annual conference to close on Fridays. Sort of like beauty shops are closed on Mondays

(Side note: if your hair cutter works on Monday, don't get your hair done there--it's not a beauty shop; it's a salon and you're paying too much). All of the pediatric dentists in our area are closed on Friday, so she's medicated and waiting on Monday. Lovely. Anyway, I couldn't exactly leave The Husband with Pitiful Lilly, so I stayed home. I got to take a nap and while I was asleep, he made chili dogs. This is romance after 17 years of marriage. (And that's not sarcasm either; I'm serious.)

Oh, and he sent me flowers at school with the most interesting note.

See, I watched Thor last night with the kids. Now, I know some of my Christian brothers and sisters have a problem with fake gods, but we don't. It's MYTHology and is a fairy story, so we're all good with that. Like Tinkerbell is welcome at Casa Johnson, so is Thor. Anyway, the movie was cheesy goodness down to the very core. Good guys, bad guys, betrayal, good triumphs over evil, but what really hit a note in the film was the sweetness of it.

The love interest (and by the way, that dude who played Thor was built like a Norse god for sure) never once even made eyes at the girl. He didn't look at her butt. He never even touched her. He didn't hold her hand or kiss her or brush hair out of her eyes. He didn't make crude jokes. He didn't come on to her. He simply enjoyed her company. He talked and listened. He helped. He cooked. He served. He was ALL man. He was forceful and protective without being degrading. He was spiffy bob fine too.

And when the big moment came in the movie for him to rush off and defeat the evil and leave the damsel in distress behind to wait, he pulled her close to him and...kissed...her...hand.

Yes, that's right, the most intimate moment in this film occurred when the handsome, hot, built, strong, powerful hero kissed her HAND. And it was the sexiest moment in any movie I've been to in forever. Because he hadn't touched her the entire movie, and she was CLOTHED the entire film (and I'm talking jeans and layers including a jacket--not a hint of cleavage or so much as an ankle flash), when he took her hand and held it to his mouth and just breathed her in, it was intimate.

What a lesson for our young people! The less you do physically while dating, the more important it is when it happens. (And I encourage families who aren't allowed to watch this sort of film to reconsider; don't narrow-mind yourself out of magnificent teaching opportunities. There is only One True God and His name sho' nuff ain't Thor.)

I was waxing poetic about this scene in the film to The Husband. (He was at a work event and missed the family night thing because he was working to provide for our family.) I told him how special it was and how romantic and chivalrous it was--this entire hand-kissing thing, I mean.

Today I received flowers in fifth period class. Pink roses and carnations and little greenery. The note was the best though. "From your Thor Wanna-be". And he wasn't referring to that dude's abs either. I am beyond thankful that my husband wants to be that guy who takes my breath away. Gentlemen--dating, married, or otherwise--women want to be wooed and won. We want to be special and cherished. We want to be celebrated and adored and prized. We want to be protected and desired and chased. So, if you want to impress your woman why not try a little hand kissing and flower sending?

Steve Johnson: You are better than Thor. :-) I love you.

Decisions, Decisions

2011-09-18T12:42:00.000-07:00

Every day you make a thousand little decisions. What to wear, what to eat, whether or not to do your homework/projects, what to read, what shows to watch...

You even make tiny decisions like what kind of make up you buy, what kind of toilet paper you prefer, what kind of gas to put in your car, and what to make for supper.

Sometimes the choices are much, much bigger like who to marry, where to buy a house, what career to choose.

I'm about to make a controversial statement, but I stand by it.

You ARE the sum of your decisions.

I think it's even what Christ meant in scripture when He told Christians that we would know each other by our fruit. If I look at a tree, and I see peaches, it's a safe assumption that it's a peach tree and that the fruit it produces is a direct result of what it IS at its roots. From the most basic point in its genetic structure, it IS a peach tree.

For some folks, life is "happening" to them, like a cosmic accident. They wander around aimlessly, never knowing how they misread so many signs along the way. They blow to and fro with the wind, claiming, "But I didn't know that was going to happen to me." We all knew that was going to happen to you; you just weren't paying attention to your decisions.

Nothing just "happens" to you. Nothing. You made a choice that led you to that moment. Now, sometimes other people's choices impact your life. I'm sure that the grandparents who are raising their grandkids feel this way, but no, they still had a choice to take on that responsibility or to adopt that child out to another family. At some point we have to take responsibility for our actions and lives.

What you choose to do, or choose not to do, will tell others down to your roots who you are and what you believe. If you are a Christian, or claim the name of Christ, I challenge you (just as I challenge myself) to be careful that you are making choices that honor the Lord God, because God is not amused by idle talk. And we will know you by your fruit.

I Am Old

2011-09-13T19:09:00.000-07:00

They say that kids keep you young, but that's a lie. At the very least, it's a misleading statement.

I watched cheerleaders last weekend at a public school and all I could think was that their clothes were a) too tight and b) too short and c) thank God my girls don't have to wear that in public.

There are only three songs on pop radio, and they play over and over and over. They make no sense. They are loud and irritating. They only talk about sex and drinking. What in the heck is getting slizzard? No, on second thought, never mind. I don't want to know.

Pizza is not a food group.

I can't imagine going to bed without brushing my teeth first, even if it meant a trip to a mini-mart at 2:00 a.m.

I am not sleeping on the floor for any reason.

I need an afghan over my legs to watch television.

I keep my classroom like a meat locker, because I'm having a personal, tropical heatwave. Bring a jacket, because I'm cranky and intend to be comfy even if your hands turn blue and you freeze to the desk seat.

I find myself watching news over entertainment. I thought that Jerseylicious was a comedy show with actors.

I wouldn't consider a vehicle without four doors.

I turn into a pumpkin at 10:00 p.m.

I want to go to the early movie and then dinner so that we can be home before I turn into a pumpkin.

There is no band alive worth standing in a smoky club to watch. (Well, unless it's Duran Duran. Again, old.)

It took me two hours to figure out Twitter. I'm still not sure why I signed up for that except that someone told me I should.

I still purchase music CDs.

I also like a real book. Like with a cover made out of paper and stuff.

I'm not going to an outdoor concert in the summer even if it's free and even if Duran Duran is playing.

There are no good flavors of Nerds.

Ice cream tastes worse the more colors that are in it.

Something was actually 'Too Sweet' for me to eat. I didn't think that was possible until it happened.

I purchased a pair of shoes last week for comfort instead of style.

That is the official beginning of the end. I am old.

It's 9:04. I have to fold this afghan, brush my teeth, and get in the bed now to watch the news before I doze off. Next stop: the nursing home.

In Charge of Everything

2011-09-10T11:11:00.000-07:00

School is off to a rousing start. The kids I teach English to are freaking out in my high school classes because there is so much work (gasp! not work! oh, the horror!). Toughen up. The poor lightweights don't have a clue what it was like to have Mrs. Swindle for English class. Now THAT was work. Humph. (I'm becoming a grumpy old lady at an astonishing rate.) I guess I'm due a little grumpy, though.

Monday: Football practice, volleyball practice, Dave Ramsey is going on at church on Monday nights. Guess who is facilitating that and managing the money and organizing the food? (I'm still confused as to how that happened exactly.) But we all need better financial control, so here we are. Yes, I can do that.

Wednesday: The new church mission classes kicked off this week. We played kick ball and freeze tag. A little light on the whole "missions focus" thing, but we had fun. And I got to sit for thirty minutes. (Praise Jesus). Sure, I will teach the 1st-6th grade girls about missions, because I love them and it's fun (when I'm not exhausted and they actually pay attention).

Samford University

Thursday: I led my first-ever school field trip to Samford for a journalism conference. Only lost a couple of kids for a few moments, so I count that entire experiences as a success. (Hey, 48 youth, four adults, three different buildings on campus, food court, four vehicles drove an hour drive each way through Birmingham at rush hour in the construction, so, misplacing some goofy girls for a few moments was sort of no big whoop.) Our school paper was praised for design and layout. I love doing the school newspaper. Now if the staff would just be as excited as I am...

Fashionista at the top

Tuesday, Thursday, Friday: I am up to my eyeballs in football stuffs. Booster club, traveling with the team, rushing to and fro for T-Shirts, receivers gloves, donations, working the booth. Ironically, none of my children actually PLAY football, just my bonus kids. Well, the Fashionista is cheering, so, we load up and go to the away games too. Why not? We're already on the road for volleyball several times a week...might as well go every night instead of just some. :-)

Saturday: Tonight is the first youth event at church. I think I'm supposed to be leading some sort of question/discussing thingy after we have movie night. Wonder what I'm going to talk about four hours from now?

CCA Football!

School newspaper. Me.

Booster club. Me.

Team mom. Me.

Senior Trip Advisor and chaperone and travel agent. Me.

English teacher. Me.

Yearbook. Oh, yeah. Me again.

So, if I seem a little distracted, it's not your imagination. I am. Go figure. I tell you what--if I didn't have The Husband, I couldn't do a single thing. He drove kids everywhere (even some who he didn't sire), made suppers, took kids to the dentist, picked up groceries, came to events, did homework, gave baths...he's the Man.)

Pom Poms one for two or two for three! T-Shirts $15.00! Spelling test on Friday. Lunch is pizza, so do you want me to make you a sandwich? No, you can't have anyone spend the night. Articles are due on Thursday. I have no idea where you left your backpack. Do I look like I carry your backpack around? It's in the laundry, so get it out of the dryer. I don't know what's for dinner. No, we can't buy a squirrel. I have no idea what your English average is. No, I haven't graded the spelling tests you took an hour ago. Do you want to buy a yearbook ad? Play auditions aren't until January. Go back into the house and brush your teeth before we go to school. Here's your field trip money and signed form. Yes, I'll go over your spelling words after I finish making this volcano out of clay and vinegar with your brother. Don't forget to take the canned goods to the church. Yes, you can give me the mission money for the Pure Water Pure Love project. I have no idea where your cheer tennis shoes are.

I'm sorry, what were we talking about again?

Meeting Our Needs One Member at a Time

2011-08-13T09:37:00.000-07:00

This week has been a tough one. Starting school, driving the kids to and fro (and driving a bunch of kids who aren't my biological kids, but are still MY kids, to and fro), sporting events, practices, hair cuts, new lunchboxes and shoes...it's always something.

Here are some God Sightings from my week:

We aren't exactly rolling in money. I know, I know, it's shocking, but The Husband is in full-time ministry, and while the church is INCREDIBLY generous, it's still only one salary and seven people (you can do the math). Mother's income is eaten immediately by her needs (usually with some thrown in from our pot). I work to pay for the kids' tuition and insurance, so I end up flush (not complaining--my job is a blessing from the Lord and an answer to a zillion prayers). Anyway, this week The Boys needed cleats for football and a little gas money. I wasn't sure how I was going to pay for that exactly, but just went ahead and did it anyway, trusting that God always meets my need--past, present, and future. On Thursday afternoon I handed them every dime I had and said a little prayer.

The Fashionista Going Hard

Seemingly Unrelated Topic: Thursday night I had no idea how I was going to get home, feed the two littlest shorties, and get to the volleyball game in Marion on time. No idea. On paper it was completely impossible. I left the school at 3:00, the game was at 4:00, we live 1 1/2 hours from the game site, and I still had to get home and change and feed the kids. I rushed home, threw clothes on, and came back through wondering how I was going to pay for dinner since I gave away our fun money to Cleats and Gas only to find a Boston butt and grilled hamburgers (still smoking hot from the grill) from a church member on my counter. Praise God!

Naynuh waiting for the play.

We hauled out to the game like we were tied to a rocket only to find out that the games were a little delayed in starting, which might have been irritating to some of you, but it was really answered prayer for me. (Sorry about that, everyone.) They didn't have a ticket fee because it was only a practice game (Praise God yet again!) So, we didn't miss a single second of E-squared tearing it up on the court. If not for that man who brought the food or the delay in starting time or the free entrance, we would have been in a jam. God used all of those circumstances to meet my needs. Amazing!

Will you PLEASE stop taking my photo, Mother?

I know that you think I've lost my train of thought here, but just hold on, I'm getting to the point: We run about three or four loads of laundry every single day. Between sports, PE, school clothes, church clothes, baths, etc., it's just a minimum. There is no such thing as "laundry day" around here. Every day is laundry day. We have a hand-me-down washer and dryer set. A local family was moving into a new home and wanted new appliances and offered us their old ones. Since the ones we were using at the time were 17-years-old and had been repaired multiple times, we eagerly accepted. Well, now that set is 15-years-old and has starting having some issues. The dryer has to run two, full 60-minute cycles to dry the clothing. So, laundry takes literally all day with everyone checking and moving the clothing around.

I know this LOOKS like a washer and dryer,
but really it's the provision of God Almighty!

Friday, after this incredibly tiring and financially draining week, I came into the house to see a brand new, energy efficient, high-capacity washer and dryer already installed in my cleaned-up laundry room. I almost burst into tears. If I had one wish, one need in my house, it would have been a new washer and dryer. I can't tell you what that moment was like exactly. To know that my Heavenly Father used the feet and hands and checking account of faithful servants to provide directly for MY needs and the need of my family...well, it's just a little overwhelming. Praise God and His Servants!

The Point: It occurred to me that I have in the past been That Person to other people. And now I'm asking you...have you ever been That Person for someone else? If not, you ought to try it sometime. I can tell you from the giving end and from the receiving end that both are rewarding beyond anything you can possibly imagine. And God tells us to give it a go--if we tithe and give and pray and listen, He will pour out a blessing on us that we can't contain. He'll meet our needs and meet the needs of others through our faithfulness. Try Him, and see if it is true. I dare you.

Malachi 3:10 Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,” says the LORD Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it.

Please, Feel Free to See Right Through Me

2011-08-06T10:23:00.000-07:00

See? They are excited about it too.

I love school. I have always loved school. I love the new books, notebooks, fresh pencils. I love office supplies and the smell of the library. I can't wait for a new organizer and highlighters and all of the little gizmos that go along with the first day. I know I'm a geek. I get it. (But I'm a geek with really quality school supplies.) God blessed me in a mighty way when He gave me the opportunity to teach high school English seventh grade through twelfth grade. (A complete lesson planning nightmare, but incredibly rewarding job experience.) I get to love school all over again.

Part of the Youth Group from Church

I've been enjoying these "you might have lived in..." or "you might have attended such and such school" on Facebook lately. I noticed that the same brand of stupid was around twenty-some-odd years ago when I attended high school as exists now. Some common activities that never go out of style include: setting things on fire, going fast (in whatever is handy be it a golf cart, car, shopping cart, etc.), sneaking around (usually just because you want to get away with something and not because it's altogether that awful), driving issues, and teachers who were/are insane.

DNow Weekend

There are people who are wired to work with little kids. I am not this person. My patience threshold is too low, and my tolerance for snot is almost non-existent. (I admire people in children's ministries more than I can say.) I, however, do seem to have a strong affinity for youth, teens, and young people in general. They crack me up. They inspire me. They tolerate me reasonably well (as much as they can any adult). Probably because I get the joke. I genuinely LIKE them, being around them, talking to them, listening to them, and participating in their lives.

Working with students on the school play

The key to working effectively with youth is simple: transparency.

They can spot a phony from a hundred paces at sunset. They can sense fear and lying and loathing. They understand that most adults want something from them, and as a result they are wary, guarding their secrets carefully lest the information be used against them. And can you blame them? How many of us have done something incredibly stupid or reckless simply because we were young? Can I get an Amen?

Junior High at School

Getting past that youth barrier isn't about them letting down their guard, it's about teachers and adults letting our guard down. There has been a tremendous amount of press about Facebook and whether friending between parents/teens or teachers/students is appropriate. For me it's an easy answer--absolutely yes, because I hope I am living my life in such a way that it's never an embarrassment to me, my family, my church, or my testimony. A really good general rule for Christians is if I don't want anyone to see me doing it, I probably shouldn't be doing it in the first place.

As Christians, if we are going to reach people with the saving power and message of Jesus Christ, we have to be a people of complete transparency. We have to walk the walk. We have to be the same all of the time. We have to live a life that is an example, not have things we need to "hide" or "private". If you are going places and doing things that you need to block from certain folks, I question the wisdom in doing them.

Psalm 106:39 They defiled themselves by what they did; by their deeds they prostituted themselves.

Youth on Mission Trip

Matthew 5:16 Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.

So, if you're a Christian who is going to work with youth, I highly advise you to get your personal life in order first. (That's the Scriptural intent behind getting that plank out of your own eye before launching a massive splinter search in other people's lives). Make sure that your life is a worthy example. Live the same way publicly that you do privately. Be honest. Give them a break. Keep their secrets. Be truthful. Accept stupid and sometimes reckless behavior as normal (I'm very sorry Mr. McBay (High School) and Mr. Walljasper (Jr. High) for all of the grief that we gave you in school discipline, but I don't regret a second of the fun).

I can't wait to see what God has in store for our high school, junior high, and youth group this year, and I am so thankful that He lets me be a very small part of His plan!

My precious high school students and cast of MidSummer Night's Dream

Titus 2:7-8 "In everything set them an example by doing what is good. In your teaching show integrity, seriousness and soundness of speech that cannot be condemned, so that those who oppose you may be ashamed because they have nothing bad to say about us."

Doing The Right Thing

2011-07-18T09:25:00.000-07:00

The Husband says that I have stray dog syndrome. I attract them. Must be something they smell in me.

Peanut and Biscuit

We have a ton of stray dogs that have taken up residence at the pastorium. We moved in and not three months later Snowball showed up. She proceeded to have puppies on our carport in the dead of winter. It was so very cold. I agonized over that dog, taking comforters literally off of the twins' beds and using them for bedding, helping her puppies come, and then arranging them so they wouldn't be squished. Snowball let me right near her without so much as a whimper and I just knew that It Was The Right Thing To Do.

Bear. Carter. Biscuit.

Then Peanut and Biscuit came. Peanut was half starved and the most pitiful thing you've ever seen. She lived here for six months and was starting to look reasonably healthy when she was bitten by a snake protecting our home. She had to be put down, but died keeping a poisonous snake away from our children. Biscuit found a lady friend up the road and moved on to greener pastures. They were quickly followed by LeRoy (the neighbor's dog who lives here now) and Dixie (the biggest full-blood bloodhound I have ever seen who was, quite literally, in love with The Husband) and now Big Dog, a huge black lab.

We feed and water them and make sure they have shelter. This year we even put a space heater in the garden shed out back with some fresh bedding on the ground. (No dogs are freezing to death at Casa Johnson.) Someone said that if we'd stop putting out food, they'd go away. My question in response is how can you let something that has come to you begging for help, shelter, and food go hungry when you have the means to provide for it? What does that say about you as a human? What does that say about you as a Christian? (At least pick it up and take it to the shelter.) No, as for me and my house, we are putting out the scraps and buying the dog food and loading everyone up for shots and spaying. Yeah, it's expensive. Yeah, it's not my responsibility. Yeah, they aren't my dogs. So what? I'm doing it anyway. Simply because It's The Right Thing To Do.

I know two youth in particular who stand in my immediate field of vision who are in need of help. I see them several times a week. I know that they are in less than ideal circumstances (to put it mildly), yet I'm struggling to get their needs met. One lives in--let's just say a less than ideal home for children. One is fostering with a family because his mother is in rehab and his father is in prison. They need school clothes. They need school supplies. They need stuff. They need sports fees paid. They need someone to drive them to and from sporting events and then sit in the stands and cheer for them. They need rides to church and youth parties and to fun stuff. They need someone to invite them fishing and then actually get in the car, go pick them up, take them fishing, and just be there.

Some of you know that I've been fund raising to pay for school for one of these youth. He needs to go to the Christian school in our area for a variety of complicated reasons (which I am more than happy to share if you know me personally and want more details). One family approached me proactively about helping me pay for his clothing (and I can't even begin to thank that family for all they do in our church and community). And two people/families stepped forward to help when I sent out the call:

--One, a single woman who doesn't know this young man.
--Two, a family with kids who are paying an astronomical amount already on the adoption process (which is another blog altogether--when so many kids need good homes why should a domestic adoption cost ANYTHING?????).

It's not going to be enough. We have to stop discussing our Christianity and begin living it in a daily, real way.

When my mother was sick, we had no way to pay for all of her expenses at home. It was a nightmare. Our help came from the last place I ever would have expected. I have a cousin in Atlanta. She mailed us their family vacation money. All of it. A huge check. We bought supplies and paid for medications and home IVs and paid a nurse to come in two days a week so that I could retain my sanity. I can't tell you what the gift did for our family.

Her choice, made with her husband and her kids, to skip the family vacation and to mail us the $5,000, changed our lives (and maybe even changed theirs a little). They are Catholic. They live in another state. She is the sibling rivalry I never had with my own brother. She behaved like my sister when she stepped up to the plate and put her money where her faith lived. I'll never forget it. (Especially when my biological brother has done absolutely nothing in terms of my mother's care or finances. Not a single dime or visit outside of Christmas.)

Where is your faith? As Christians, we do owe these boys something.

Proverbs 3:27-28 Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to act. Do not say to your neighbor, “Come back tomorrow and I’ll give it to you”— when you already have it with you."

Psalm 82:3-4 Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked

So, today I'm loading up one of those young men and buying his school stuff. I've also committed to make sure that this young man will not miss a single practice, because I'm going to drive him to all of them, and he will have someone cheering just for him in the stands on game day. That's going to be my contribution.

What's your plan? Sometimes you have to do the right thing simply because It's The Right Thing to Do.

Proverbs 21: 3 Whoever shuts their ears to the cry of the poor will also cry out and not be answered.

What I Did For My Summer Vacation

2011-06-30T07:26:00.000-07:00

These people only have two kids. Enough said.

So, I have shingles. Again. On my face. Fun times. It just proves that although I appear to be handling my stress level well, obviously, I'm NOT. Incidentally, ten people have asked me today why I haven't had the vaccination shot. One, I already HAVE the shingles; I don't think I need to be vaccinated for something I actually have. Two, I'm not over 60, so they won't give it to me. There’s something funny in there, but I’m not sure that I’m in on the joke. (Usually that means that you ARE the joke.)

Spiritual Truth Number 76: Working at an 8-5 job in an office somewhere is less stressful than being home full time. I don’t want to hear you complain one second about your commute or your boss or your co-workers. Shut it. You’re basically whining that you have two hours in the car to listen to whatever you want by yourself, you have someone above you who takes all of the heat even if you screw up, and there’s no way that you can prove your co-workers are worse than being trapped in the house with kids. I’ve never once had a co-worker run naked covered in wet grass and mud from playing in the sprinkler through my newly mopped office, throw up on me, or put his/her hand in my glass during a business luncheon to fish out ice cubes or a lemon. We don’t feel sorry for you. We think you’re a light weight. From now on, if I ask a woman if she "works outside of the home" I'm going to add "or do you slave inside of it"?

On the Subject of Food: The dishes. My God, my God, wherefore art there so many dishes??? And why are they in my sink with the food still on them instead of being scraped into the garbage first? What is wrong with you people? There is nothing grodier than a sink full of soggy Fruit Loops, unless maybe Raisin Bran. (I think it's that dadgum elf since I never see anyone actually putting anything in the sink.) I know that it’s like not “green” and stuff, but I’m seriously thinking about going all paper products in this house. Think of the water we’ll save. That’s being green, right?

I've also decided that my children aren't human. They are garbage disposals from another planet. Today I've cooked four times. FOUR TIMES! Like with the stove on. (This from the woman who doesn't particularly like cooking.) It's so bad that I'm actually debating if it’s a DHR moment should I decide to serve Pop Tarts for dinner tomorrow. (And if I get one email about my kids’ diets, you are too stupid to live and breed. I just said that I cooked four times today. I’m not actually going to serve Pop Tarts for dinner [at least I don’t think I am]. Go get some kids, and then I’ll listen to you. Maybe. [Okay, so probably not even then.])

And for the love of all that is good, no more caffeine, chocolate, sugar, red food dye, Kool-aid, ice cream, sugar cereal, doughnuts, cookies, or soft drinks for The Little Flower after like one o'clock in the p.m. Seriously. I'll kill you.

This isn't actually my house. Thank God.

Housekeeping, or lack Thereof: My poor, poor living room. It's a fort. It's a dining room. It's a video arcade. It's a bounce house. It’s an art coffee house. It's a water park (don't ask). It's an official bio hazard. It's cheer practice central. It's gymnastics class. It's a construction zone. It's a concert hall. It's a piano rehearsal studio. It's a disco. It's a movie theater. It's a day care center. It's a dog run. It's base in an elaborate game of hide and seek. It's an extra bedroom. It's a science lab. It's Thunderdome (two men enter/one man leaves). The only thing it's not is a living room.

Running To and Fro: I'm taking all of the credit for the gas prices falling. You're all welcome. I've been on the road so much that the oil futures have once again become secure. We run from one thing to the next, and we are barely on time for anything. I used to be on time everywhere, like as in early-is-really-on-time. Now I'm still wandering around my house aimlessly looking for a hair bow or flip flop or blanket or keys when it's time to be there (wherever THERE is on any given day). During the school year this place is operated like boot camp. Like for Marines. It must be the chlorine or sunblock or sleeping in an extra hour. Someone should do a study.

George and Flat Stanley

Me No Speaka You Slang and a Random Panic Attack: When did the word "beast" replace "awesome"? And what exactly does it mean? Someone told me I'm 'beast' and one of my kids stopped me before I put a shoe upside his head. Holy Smokes, Batman!!!! I almost forgot all about Flat Stanley! I have to mail him off to some people today…who can I rook into that deal? Who loves me enough to return some photos? And who has kids who have to do this same sort of stupid, er, I mean, Socially Important, ahem, Project. And I think I’m also supposed to be selling some mess for volleyball gear like cookies or pizza or something. Ugh. Fund raisers stink. Cause you know who’s keeping up with all of the money and paperwork and actually selling the stuff, right? (And I’ll give you a hint, it’s not the Wonder Twins.) Double Ugh.

Spiritual Truth Number 131: You can't actually sleep if you have more than four people and a dog in the bed with you. It's more like a wrestling match. And I don't care if it is a king size bed.

Music, Music Everywhere and No Talent Anywhere in Sight: Why is the piano amplifier set on 11 all of the time? Do my kids need to have their hearing checked? And who decided that the keys should make a farting noise as a musical choice on the keyboard in the first place? Is someone actually trying to play Beethoven in the key of Gaseous Emissions? The dude who programmed that deal needs to be fired.

Wiz Khalifa, for those not in the know.

I know all of the words (well, to the edited radio version) to Roll Up by Wiz Kalifa. This alone is reason to question all of my life choices leading up to this point. Worst. Song. Ever. It doesn’t even have a melody or any singing. It’s more like grunting. It's like the "Oh, Sheila" or the "Blame It on the Rain" of this generation. (I know the words to those songs too. What does that say about me as a person?)

Conclusion: How long have we been out for summer break again? Like four months? WHAT? You lie, Sir! Only four weeks? That can't be right. I'm having like a Groundhog Day do-over loop. Lord, help me....so, no one should even have to ask me why I have the shingles. I’ve got your shingles right here.

I Just Want to be a Blessing

2011-06-27T08:54:00.000-07:00

Ever have one of those moments where you look up and think for a split second, my God, my God, I am so very blessed? I have them quite often. Now, I'm going to leave people off of this list, because no one actually reads a ten-page-long blog post, but here are a few examples...

Martha & Heedy

Like when I walked into my kitchen after an exhausting day of Shortie Stuff only to find that a deacon at our church (Hi, Mr. Heedy!) brought baskets and baskets of fresh veggies to my house. Okra, squash, tomatoes, peas...see, I'd driven past a veggie stand on the way home and thought about stopping but had absolutely no money on me. Not a dime. And then I came home to everything I desired at that veggie place. I made this huge dinner: chicken casserole, rice, sliced red tomatoes, fried squash and okra, purple hull peas, sliced onion and fresh peppers, biscuits, and blackberry cobbler for dessert. And our Bonus Child had her prayer answered too--she'd been thinking about that chicken casserole all week and that's what I made! God is so good!

Bridgett, Noah, & Roddy

Or like when Mother's car caught fire at church last week (specifically her brakes), well another deacon (Hi, Mr. Roddy!) rushed right out with a fire extinguisher and put that thing out in just a second. We could have been tooling up the road and caught on fire or somewhere between here and Town all by ourselves (and one car catching fire in my lifetime is one too many, so I think God knew that I couldn't take it again). So, instead of a major disaster it was just sort of irritating. When the fire was out, we walked in and had church services, then walked to the house which is only 100 yards away. God is so good!

Swimming at Tack & JuJu's

Or like today when I pulled up my calendar and my biggest decision of the day is whether to take the kids to The Art Shop (Hi, Mrs. Melissa!) for the 10:00 class or the 2:00 class, because we want to swim before it rains. We go swimming and fishing at another deacon family where they let us use their backyard pool any ole time we want. (Hi, Tack and JuJu!) God is so good!

Gretchen & David with their beautiful girls!

Or when I looked out my window to see men from church mowing the grass and weed eating like crazy and I think to myself, THANK GOD for these men (Hi, Mr. David and Mr. Waldrop!), because if the yard care were left up to me and The Husband it wouldn't be Casa Johnson, it would be Jungle Johnson. God is SO good!

Mrs. Mary Jane & Kory

Or like when these wonderful woman from church (Hi, Mrs. Mary Jane, Mrs. Kattie, Mrs. Betty Jo, Mrs. Betty Mae, Mrs. Katherine, Mrs. Annie, and everyone else!) just randomly pulls up with desserts, stuffed peppers, soup, salsa, etc., and we are so blessed because I don't do any of that (good enough to actually eat, that is). God is so good!

Or when it was time to start thinking about teaching the GA (girl's missions) class again for next year at church, and I'm thinking I'm a little burned out and need some fresh ideas, this lady steps right up to me before church and says, "Hey, I'd like to help you with the GAs this next year," like she's the perfect answer to prayer at the exact right moment (Hi, Mrs. Sherry!) God is so good!

Lilly in the NICU at St. Vincent's. Two months after birth

Or when my phone rang a few days ago...a stressed out pregnant mom (Hi, Mrs. Bragan!) with a baby about to be born premature (Hi, Baby Barrett!) and needing help, advice, information, mostly just someone who knew that feeling and prayer, and guess what? I knew EXACTLY what to say and what to pray because God gifted me with a micro-preemie and a 4 1/2 months NICU stay, giving me the exact words and thoughts and information necessary to minister to someone else in that same need at the perfect time. I'm so thankful for Lillian's early birth and our experience in the NICU, because we've been able to minister to so many other people. And that baby was born perfect and whole. God is so good!

Christopher

Or when The Number One Son (who still doesn't spend the night off from home because it stresses him out) wanted to go away to summer camp for the first time, but refused to go without his father, this wonderful youth from our church (Hi, Christopher!) said that he'd go and stay with my son so that The Husband didn't have to leave us for a week (which was an amazing answer to Steve's prayer since going to camp is like announcing a death march or something). God answered Carter's prayer, Steve's prayer, and my prayer all at the same time through that youth and his willingness to sacrifice. God is so good!

Are you catching my theme? It's not God I actually see here...it's God through these people and their actions. So, to quote the sermon from The Husband, how are you being a blessing to others? How is God working through you? How is God working through me? Am I open to let God use me as a blessing?

I Kings 3:1-15 Solomon has a dream and God tells him to ask for anything he wants. Solomon chose wisdom, to be able to discern right from wrong in order to help and judge his people. He wanted to be a blessing, rather than to get a blessing. And later, God gave him everything his heart desired, beyond anything he actually asked for.

So, what about you? Are you being a blessing? I know that we are abundantly blessed by God's people every single day!

Next Time I'm Turning Her Loose. Seriously. I Mean It.

2011-06-24T18:59:00.000-07:00

Is it only deaths that come in three's?

I'm beginning to think that Sister Sunshine moments do too, because I've been full up on crazy this week.

We have a climate-controlled storage unit at a local business. I've had this unit for three years. We rented it in June of 2008 to store my mother's stuff when we sold her house. (God had other plans for her cancer and healed her completely.) I've never been a day late on the $115.00 rent; it has come right out of my checking account every month on the first without fail for three years.

We've also had many other business dealings with these people who own the mini storage. We've purchased a car from them (from one of their side businesses), and we've ordered signs for our church VBS several years (another side business). (And incidentally, now you know who they are.) Over the years, I've had several bizarre encounters with That Woman who manages the mini storage.

To put it concisely, she is a jackwagon.

She's short spoken, ill tempered, smart mouthed, slow to listen, and just rude in general. And today, she finally crossed The Line and spoke to me that way in front of youth from my church (who will swear without any coercion that I behaved myself from start to finish).

I went to empty my storage unit (that same one that I've been paying for the past three years in a timely manner), and my lock wouldn't open. Upon closer examination, something was jammed inside of the lock. It looked like a key was broken off in the locking mechanism. Since I haven't even been over there since October of last year, this was a little distressing.

I walked to the office and explained that there was something jammed in the lock, and I wasn't sure what to do next. I was told (sharply, with an exasperated sigh as though I had caused the problem) that there would be a fee of fifty dollars to core out the lock, and they would have to charge me for a new lock from the office.

She then indicated that we could review the tape to see "what was put in there" (said with a clever little one eyebrow lift implying not so subtlety that I'd broken my own key in the lock). I showed her the key on my ring to the storage lock and she said, "That's not the key." I insisted that it was because it's the only key I've ever had to any lock anywhere in the whole world, but I can't prove it because I can't put it in the lock because something is stuck.

She said, "Well, it came with two keys, where is the other one?" I told her the other key was at home on a nail by the back door, forty minutes away. She insinuated that IF I had that key and that IF it wasn't broken, they'd see what was in the lock when they cored it out and determine what to do next (basically calling me a liar).

I said, oh, that's okay, it's no problem, we don't need to core the lock, I'll be back with bolt cutters in a little while (thinking that I'm sort of being helpful here). Then I was informed, hands on hips and head bobbing (her, not me), that it is against the property rules and THE LAW to cut the lock off, that the owner would have to do it. Okay, I say that I understand completely, and I asked for his card.

She gave me that look you give boys who come to pick up your daughters for car dates, you know the look, squinty-eyed intense scrutiny.

"Why--do--you--want--THAT?"

(Um, I don't know, so that I can call him?) "So that I can contact Mr. XYZ to resolve this." (And mostly because I don't appreciate your people skills.)

She asked again, "Why?" this time slitting her eyes so hard she looked foreign for a second. (Keep in mind that I have two youth boys from my church in the office with me who are listening to this entire exchange.)

I explained in a calm, quiet voice (the boys said later that the calmer and quieter I got, the madder and louder she got) that I didn't think I should be responsible for the lock being jammed and that I could cut it off for free instead of having to pay for it to be removed, especially since I'm holding a key to the unit in my hand right there on the spot and have a photo ID that shows it's my locker.

I then politely asked if she'd come look at it to see if I was missing anything. She said, "In a minute."

I backed away from the counter and waited. She looked up after ten seconds and snapped, "What do you want?"

(I paused, wondering if this was a trick question.) "Um, I'm waiting for you."

She huffed and rolled her eyes, practically barking at me, "Ma'am, I'm going to be a-while."

I explained that I have people here right now (gesturing to the boys) to move the stuff out of the unit and that I live forty minutes away, so I really needed to wait for her to come. She indicated in short order that she wasn't going anywhere with me and that she'd have to contact the owner to come core the lock tonight and that it was out of her hands. I asked what would happen to my stuff if he just took the lock off at some random time during the night and was told that they'd put an office lock on it and charge me $20.00 for the lock. Ahem.

(Mentally, I'm thinking to myself, okay, then, why didn't you just tell me to leave instead of telling me that you'd come out in a minute?) I picked up a card off of the counter and left without another word. (Now, I'll confess that I stomped from the door of the office to the door of the Yukon while muttering vile Scripture curses on her head, but I'm only human.)

After getting that out of my system, we left. I drove home, borrowed some tools, and drove the forty minutes one-way back to the unit. I used a magnet and screwdriver to get the shard of key out of the lock, then I drove to Wal-Mart to get WD40 to loosen up the rusted/damaged lock.

While I was in Wal-Mart buying the oil, That Woman called my house and spoke to my mother. This is what she said, "Ma'am? There is nothing in that lock." My mother, having absolutely no clue that any of this is happening, said, "What?" And Tha Woman (thinking she was talking to me) yelled, "I SAID, there is NOTHING in that LOCK!" Then she hung up on my Momma. She didn't even ask to speak to me and had no idea who even answered the phone. (I was blissfully ignorant of this exchange.)

While I was waiting in the storage hallway for a few minutes to let the oil do its thing, That Woman came out and told me that if I broke the lock off she would call the police. I just nodded and kept on working without saying anything (not knowing at that moment that she'd been rude to my Momma, otherwise I'd have gone Old Testament right there in that storage locker hallway). Then I put MY key, into MY lock, and opened the unit, where I removed everything I could carry. I went back into the office and showed the woman the lock and the keys (both unbroken) and said that I'd be back before Monday to collect the things that I couldn't carry by myself. She never even looked up.

I walked out to the porch and stopped for a long moment. I thought about the two units in that building that were full and the roughly 18 that were empty in the hallway. I thought about the building next door to the one I rented from which was entirely empty. I took in a deep breath, then turned around and went back in, and this is a fairly close approximation to the speech I gave her.

"Um, ma'am?" (no verbal response, no facial expression, she just looked up)

"Okay, well, see, what I want to tell you is that I worked in customer service for a very long time, and I hated it by the way, because the one thing that I know for certain is that you shouldn't fire the customer, and I constantly wanted to fire the customers for irritating me, which is why I left that sort of work. I was just irritated in general every single day.

I'm telling you this, because when I leave here, I'm going to tell everyone at my church and everyone on my Facebook and everyone that I see tonight at VBS in my community about this experience in this business. So are the boys who were here with me and saw your behavior today. I just thought that you should know for future reference, that the reason for all my discontent boils down to one thing: your attitude and your overall unconcern for me and my problem.

If at any point during this process you had been mildly sympathetic or understanding or kind spoken, this encounter would have gone much differently. I didn't come in here angry. I just had a problem and I needed your help. I haven't raised my voice or cursed or demanded anything or even been irritated with you. I would have appreciated the same courtesy.

Oh, and I want to give you a head's up that once I calm down, I'm calling The Man (as in the owner since I sort of know him), and probably following up with a blog and a letter. I think you should seriously consider finding a different job that doesn't require working with the public.

Please be sure that my account isn't charged for the unit in July. Thank you."

And then I left, the little doorbell ringy dinging my exit music. Sometimes it just doesn't pay to be nice. (And I'm eternally grateful that she didn't shoot me in the back through that big picture window.) I wonder what kind of service I'd have gotten if I let Sister out of the bag and went all Karate Kid Crane Pose on her. It's an interesting question. Next time, if the sales person is rude to me first, I think I'll find out.

You, Sir, Are a Moron.

2011-06-23T19:05:00.000-07:00

So, I almost gave myself a stroke tonight on Facebook.

See, when someone of a different political persuasion than you posts something--an article or opinion piece or whatever--and then you post an opinion that runs contrary of the friends of said person, it can get ugly. On both sides.

I don't know why I get into these things. I always tell myself, just keep on scrolling, don't stop and read, just let it go. I'm just innocently scrolling though and read something on a post that is just so stupid that I can't help myself and jump right in with both feet. I get that it's all my fault.

Tonight I was called out for not being compassionate to this MORON (my word choice) who robbed a bank so that he could go to jail and get free healthcare. Are you kidding me? He is the very definition of a moron. He's the reason that the word is still in usage in the English language. Not only does he have the T-Shirt, but he ought to have to carry a sign around warning other people that he's in their general vicinity.

Okay, some of you need to buckle in. I really hate to break this to all of you, especially my liberal friends because it's such a shock to them, but WE ALREADY HAVE FREE HEALTHCARE IN THIS NATION.

I feel better getting that out there. There, I said it. And it's the truth.

1) You can walk into any emergency room in the United States of America and get medical care--emergency or not.

2) You can walk into the health department in your county of residence and have your daily medical needs met by professionals, including shots, prescriptions, and mental heath needs for you and your children.

3) You can receive indigent care in any Baptist hospital in the state of Alabama--you just meet the criteria, fill out the paperwork--they even assign you a social worker to make sure that you fill the paperwork out correctly, and they file it for you.

All you need to do is walk into the hospital. They will connect you with the next step. So, no one, NO ONE needs to rob a dadgum bank for healthcare. And if you do, I'll call you a moron right to your face, because if it quacks like a duck and walks like a duck...

This is what got me accused of "hating" this man. (I don't even know him, how can I possibly hate him?) But here's the deal...the basic gist of the arguments against me (and they were plentiful) is that we owe this man healthcare and we should be compassionate and moved by his plight. (What about that bank teller who had to be hospitalized due to the trauma of being robbed? Where's the compassion for her? Who's picking up her co-pay and Prozac prescription? HUH?)

At what point did healthcare become a right?

Now, let me say that as Christians we are called to love our neighbor as ourselves. That right there is the clincher and the best argument against me (that no one online actually used). As a follower of Christ I DO owe this man help. I owe him access to help. AND HE HAS IT!!!!!!!!

In case you missed the first part of this post, THAT MAN HAS ACCESS TO FREE HEALTHCARE!

So, how is that not being compassionate? How is that not loving my neighbor? How is that hating him? He has access to health care, and I have provided that access through my tax dollars and the inflated price I pay for my own health insurance. Hello? I can't figure out how in the universe that makes me lack compassion and hate him.

Oh, yeah...I'm not dealing with rational human beings, I'm dealing with emotional human beings. This is the basic problem with Facebook postings just as a general rule. You put something down on paper that you believe to be truth and everyone is supposed to nod and smile and agree and hug a tree and sing Kumbaya, pass the granola, but you all need to be forewarned...if you post something/anything, I just might put Sister Sunshine Charlotte right up in the middle of your deal with both feet. And sorry, Sugar, but you actually INVITED her to the party when you hit "enter".

And you might get your own T-Shirt...

Second Generation of Daddy Bears

2011-06-19T12:16:00.000-07:00

Because sometimes a photo tells it better than you can say it.

Whole crew at a church event

Daddy and Naynuh

Putt Putt golf in Gatlinburg on vacation

Germantown in Tennessee on a trip

Christmas Fantasy Land, Lilly and Daddy

Getting a lift at the park

Playing monster with the Shorties

Fourth of July Fireworks

Elise, Daddy, Lilly

Taking Naynuh to the Trick or Treat

Watching Elise play at the rest stop while on the way to Mississippi to see relatives

The very first "finger game" with Carter

Like father...like son

Whole crew at the beach

he's under there somewhere...

Daddy and Lilly

Daddy and Lilly (still in the hosptial)

Daddy and Carter

Daddy and the Wonder Twins (Elise/Elaina)

Happy Father's Day 2011!

Lessons from My Daddy Bear

2011-06-18T21:15:00.000-07:00

Daddy had never, ever held a baby before he held me.

My daddy and I have this very odd relationship. I almost worshiped the man when I was young. He was my hero, and in many ways, he still is. He was a difficult man (and in many ways he still is). He was demanding. He was harsh. He was exacting. He had high expectations. He was a strong force. He was funny and physical. He had a great sense of humor. He was powerful. But I never, ever wanted for hugs and kisses and bedtime tuck ins. He loved me and my brother fiercely. It was, and is, an overwhelming relationship. I'm thankful for my father.

I'm thankful that he tried. I'm thankful that he didn't quit. I'm thankful that he didn't say "I told you so" as often as he could have. I'm thankful that he forgave me. I'm thankful that he told me "no" more than "yes". I'm thankful that he loved my mother. I'm thankful that he still provides for her because he loves me (and her). I'm thankful that he was and is such a strong force, because I was made stronger for standing in his presence and leaning into that wind.

And with that, I want to share some of the most important life lessons I learned from my Daddy Bear:

It's okay to be goofy. In fact, goofy is more enjoyable than serious. You also better stay on your toes, or I'm going to make you look goofy on purpose, and I fully expect you to laugh with me when I'm laughing at you. So, go ahead and laugh at yourself first. (I hope I have given this same gift to my children. Smart people have quick wit. And empathetic people find themselves to be the biggest laugh of all.)

Playing on the "Rock Chiff"

I remember curling up in the green chair with him, secure in the knowledge that nothing could ever get past my Daddy. (I never, ever turn my children away for a snuggle. One day they won't want to sleep with me or sit with me, and that day is rapidly approaching. And I will protect them and their interests with every breath I take. Nothing will get past this Mother Bear. Nothing.)

I have seen every Western ever made, because that's what we did on Friday nights--we had significant amounts of family time, and he never watched anything we couldn't see also until we were asleep. (To this day, our house revolves around a never-ending family time that we are quick to schedule and guard zealously.)

I read because my father insisted. He handed me the first book I ever loved: Gone With The Wind. He is the very reason that I am passionate about literature. (It's important to teach your children to love reading and to participate in the things that make your life richer.)

Same game "Rock Chiff" with Conrad, my brother.

He taught me to memorize poetry just because you ought to. I still memorize something every single month. (Some things you should do not because they gain you wealth or education or position--you should just do them to improve yourself as a human being. They make your life richer just for doing them.)

I see him bringing me Godiva--For Special. (You should show the people you love with physical gifts.)

I hear him saying the Tucked Up Their Paws, rhyme, his voice hiding laughter right before tickling me silly. My children think that everyone knows Tucked Up Their Paws and Special Kisses. (What? You don't?) (You need to develop your own private language in your family unit. Your own traditions. Your personal folklore bonds you together deeper than any trip or thing you own.)

Raccoon, me, Daddy

In that same voice, I hear him cursing and yelling, but still turning the car around, after only thirty minutes into the 15-hour drive, to go back for Raccoon, my very special bear. (Always go back, go extra for your children, even if it costs you something and you get absolutely no personal gain.)

I smell freshly cut wood and see us stacking it behind the car we washed earlier in the day. (My father taught me that hard work is good for you, and I hope that my babies are learning the same.)

I taste Eggs Benedict on Saturday mornings (and it's still my favorite dish), because after washing the car and cutting and stacking the wood, it was time to get cleaned up and go to brunch. Just him and me. (Because the most valuable thing you have to spend on your kids is time and shared experiences.)

I know Bear folklore, because I am one by blood and by birthright. (And I'd tell you what that means, but then I'd have to kill you, because some things in a family are private and should be kept that way.)

And I love my Daddy Bear, because he first loved me. Which is the most powerful lesson there is.