Monthly Archives: September 2009

My readings of late:

Under the Overpass by Mike Yankoski: Book Cover

Ok, now this book will get you: thinking, squirming, inspired, appalled, and among other things ready to buy up some fast food and go on a homeless hunting expedition!  The church is falling so very, very short regarding what we should be doing for the world.  “Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils: freely you have received, freely give.”  Sound familiar?  Like, say from someone, oh like…Jesus?!  He did “great” things and what did he say in the book of John (ch 14 vs 12)?  How about “…greater things than these shall you do!”  Oh, yeah!  Now I will admit that if a crud caked, homeless, lice infested, diseased leper was walking, hobbling or meandering my way, I just may be tempted to engage in advanced tactical advoidance maneuvers (i.e. R-U-N!!) But then I’d have to ask myself the overused but very practical question:  What Would Jesus Do?  Um, yeah.

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Fictionally CHILLING!  Wrap up: it’s about EMP weapons and how they have the ever growing potential to render our world prehistoric.  Just the idea that some of this is based on facts in enough to get you to stock pile enough grub, guns, water and equipment to become kin to folks who live deep in the hills of the south and name their children Earl, Bubba and Imogene.  If anything like this every happened I’d want the Earls, Bubba’s and Imogenes of this world watching my backside, providing they didn’t eat it first!

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We are sons and daughters, Princes and Princesses of the Lord most high yet we act like paupers begging for bread.  “Oh, just worms are we…wiggley worms, worthless of breath…” is the thought of many Christians today.  C’mon, we need to accept our birthright and exercise the “on earth as it is in heaven” principle that Jesus taught us about in the Lords prayer.  I’m ready for some earth shakin’ Heaven…You?   

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Trying to read this…I’ll hold my tongue for now until I actually finish.

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Ahhh, the ever popular Twilight Saga.  I devoured these babies in 3 days f.l.a.t.  Granted, I traded sleep to finish them sooo rapidly and as a result I resembled a rough, zoombie like, vampire-esque creature (not at all beautiful like the girly vamps on the movie).  But hey, the brain candy called and I was in need of a fix.

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Love, Love, Love the cultural flare and writing ability of this chick.  I was ready to put on my traditional Indian clothing (who cares that I don’t actually own any), grind up some turmeric, blast out some tunes on the Satyr and get a Bindi tattooed on my forehead.  I felt Indian.  No, while reading this book, I WAS Indian.  Wicked Cool.

I love to read and will post my opinions, my humble “worm” opinions here from millenium to millenium.  There have been so many good reads…I’ll have to dig them up from the ancient rollodex system I like to call my memory.  Stay tuned!

It’s My Blog and I Can Write if I Want To!

Boy, you know public opinion is a force to reckon with when you begin to hesistate on a blog topic with “who may be reading the blog” in mind so as not to offend.  But ya’know what?  I’m going to write what I’m thinking about right now.  I’m throwing this out to you guys to chew on. 

What is it about society, our culture that teaches, mainly by example, that the elite, the gifted, the advanced, the “cream of the crop” perfect humans are better than the rest of mankind?  From the time we are young we are set up and measured by a set of pre-determined standards.  Whose standards?  How did they come into being? What gives them power?  Why do they attempt to dictate how we are classified or what we become?  Dumb, poor, divorced, short, crippled, ugly, single mothers/fathers, sensitive, clumsy, beautiful, rich, smart, athletic and blah, blah, blah the list can go on ad nauseum.

We see these examples solidified when school sport teams only play the “first string” while the kids sitting on the sidelines are dubbed “bench warmers.”  I’ve seen coaches soooo consumed (to the point of possession complete with facial contortion, head spinning, pea soup spitting action and all) with winning that they segreate and clique up their players breeding and feeding division.  Rather than a unified team mentality it becomes one of fragmentation…those who play and bond from the experience and those who don’t.  BUT it is most laughable when they then turn and preach team spirit and team unity to their members!!  How much more meaningful would it be for these coaches to play some of the inexperienced players and bring out the hidden potential waiting to be birthed in these kids?!  What a way to communicate value and worth.  Wow.  Sadly, it appears the win, the title, the notarity has become the ultimate idol.

We see mothers/women form groups where their members are sized up and evaluated before entrance is permitted.  We see kids who follow in the example of their parents and exclude other kids for one ridiculous reason or another.  We see men measuring, among other things their salaries, strength, and babe-a-liciousness against other men.  Sensitivity is seen as weakness and young boys are told to “man up” if they demonstrate too much emotion.  Irresponsibility and immaturity are often viewed with a “boys will be boys” attitude and all too often mature or responsible men are referred to as ‘Hen Pecked.’

I could go on and on and on and on and on and on but….you get the point!  So I challenge you to: break out of the classifications.  Refuse to be labeled.  Dare to be different.  Love yourself for yourself.  Accept no boundaries.  Hold your head high.  Welcome others even if they are different.  Stomp out judgement.  Cry.  Be real.  But most of all….

Get in the GAME!!!!

It began with a choice.

Two roads up ahead, which one shall I choose?

Two roads up ahead, which one shall I choose?

Decisions.  Hate them.  I’m not talking about the trivial ones, like paper or plastic, either.  No, I mean the monumental decisions where the burden is so heavy that the effects of a wrong decision could potentially result in a life altering catastrophe.  We’ve all had to deal with these fork in the road, which way will we choose decisions, right?  Some people pull out the pro and con list as they work through the decision making process while others use the eenie, meenie, minee, mo approach.  Some fast and pray.  Some wait until one of the options vanish…I call it the ‘drag your feet method.’  Some get the opinions of friends.  Some live their lives with such control that major decisions are rarely encountered.  I would even venture to say that many people do all of the above tactics and more!  I don’t know about you, but I have not found the decision making process to get any easier as I get older.  In fact, it has probably gotten harder because I am more aware of the outcome(s) of a bad decision and the impact it will hold for me and my family.  No longer can I fly by the seat of my pants as vicariously as I did in my youth.  With age comes knowledge.  Knowledge.  In fact it (it- as in all the crap) began with knowledge.   Remember the tree of knowledge of good and evil in the garden of Eden?  The result of a decision, a choice, is still effecting us today.

So I guess when it comes right down to it, more than the decision itself, our obedience is what it’s all about.  The decision making process poses many challenges but if we are obedient to what the Lord is calling us to do then we can not go wrong.  Obedient decisions are usually the most difficult because often they require us to put down our flesh and the natural surroundings screaming at us to do otherwise.  However, they also hold the most rewarding end results….and that my friends is beautiful!   I don’t mind being on the other side, the reaping side, of a good decision!

It all began with a choice….choose wisely, choose obedience.

Manipulation: Out of the mouth of babes.

My youngest wanted to go up to the neighbor’s house with his older brother for some male bonding. Considering his older bro brings home necklaces made with alleged marijuana root (although I think it is just rope), I thought it would be a good parental decision to keep him home!  Plus older bro was in need of some mature guy time.  Don’t ask me why older bro is allowed to hang out there…just because!  Enraged at my decision, my youngest said “If you don’t let me go, I’ll hate you forever!” I smiled communicating the ineffectiveness of his words to alter my decision. Staring at me, he slowly tilted his head. With a twinkle in his eyes he said “If you let me go, I’ll go to heaven…If you don’t then I’ll go to Hell. Now, which will it be? Heaven or Hell? Are you willing to send me to Hell?” Smart boy. He obviously realized the importance of these two places and figured the destination of his soul would hold more weight than his fleeting emotion toward me. How quickly they learn the skillful art of manipulation. So what did I do? What any good parent would do. I told him no one could damn his soul to hell other than the outright rejection of Jesus as the son of God and promptly shoved my face with food (conveniently it was dinner time) and ignored, via selective hearing, all further wails of protest. 

I am mother.  Hear me roar!

Weenies and much more

Good bye summer!

Good bye summer!

In an attempt to squeeze the last drop of summer out of the year we headed North to a nearby lake for some swimming and a picnic over Labor Day weekend.  The kids excitedly approached the beach and immediately hesitated once the cold water touched their skin.  Standing there it became obvious that they were frozen both by the water temperature as well as the visual sights surrounding them.  Totally exposed bras, wife beaters, ripped cut offs, tattoos, rolls of flesh, smoke blowing in our faces, rough brawls, and foul language were just a few of the sights common to the area.  My kids are not sheltered as I have my nostril pierced and am currently sporting a silver hoop however, this was more raw concentrated entertainment than they are accustomed to.  After witnessing a young kid take a fisted punch to the face by another youth, my older son looked back at me with a grimace as he mouthed “that’s gotta hurt!”  My youngest son’s mouth hung open in disbelief as he clung closely to his brother.  Seeing enough and apparently bored by it all,  our daughter grabbed my hubby and off they ran to the volley ball nets to get in some practice before her next game leaving me and the boys to fend for ourselves.  I was fully prepared to correct the youngest, who I knew would readily repeat the F word and the other colorful language he was hearing but he did not let any words fly that day.  He’s probably saving those bright words for his Sunday school class or church service where he can catch everyone off guard!  I can just see the disapproval on the faces of the church members as they look at us with shock and disbelief for speaking such words in the home because how else would he become familiar with them…right?  Things are not as they always appear people.

A few hours had passed we were cold, sand covered and ready to say good-bye to summer and head to the comfort of our home.  Pausing briefly by our car we set up a discreet changing station for the boys to quickly shed their wet suits in exchange for some dry clothing.  I wasn’t too concerned about the youngest because he is still young and carefully changing him in public is somewhat acceptable.  My older son, on the other hand, is an entirely different story.  I was careful to cover all of the visual gaps and instructed him to fly like the wind.  I was not not aware that there were people in the car parked directly beside us.  My back was toward their car but I heard the lady loudly exclaim “OH, MY it’s like a WEENIE convention around here!!”  Shocked, I turned prepared for a response. It was then that I saw the three little Dachshunds prancing in front of our cars and realized she was referring to them, not my boys!!  My daughter and hubby burst into fits of laughter at the look on my face.  The boys giggled and wiggled their weenies and more!

Beware of the Geriatric Mower


cartoon man on mower

I was driving along today in our new vehicle (that I am still trying to fell the love for) when I spotted him, the geriatric mower.  I do not know his name but he was moving at gravity defying speeds while mounted on his shiny riding mower.  He wore a white tank and straw hat.  That’s about all I could see because the rest was a blur of movement.  When I first saw him he was 1/2 way between his yard and the road upon which I was driving.  His body lurched from side to side thanks to the uneveness of the land.  In addition, each bump in the yard heaved him several inches into the air before returning him to the mower’s seat again.  It became obvious that he was moving very, very quickly….no, he was FLYING!

He reached the edge of his yard, where the road began.  I was almost parallel him.  I ignorantly assumed he would stop for my much larger, much faster, vehicle because most people, who mow their grass near a main road, yield to the car.  It’s just the thing to do for those individuals who value their lives.  I kept my pace without stopping and unfortunately so did he!!  Glancing up at my car with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, or maybe it was cataracts, the geriatric Evil Kinevel  dare devil hopped the graduated curb onto the road, made a quick U turn (I bet if you looked close enough you would see that two of the for wheels were off the ground), before power jumping the graduated curb again back into his yard just as my bumper came dangerously close to his rear tire.   Exhaling slowly I sighed thankful for the fact that I was not wearing him nor his mower on my grill and windshield!!  I guess after sizing up the opponent, he did not think my little 4 cylinder wagon posed much of a threat to his pimped out mower.  I have to wonder about that myself.

It was obvious that he enjoyed the speed and freedom his mower allowed him to experience.  You can bet that the next time I see a geriatric mower, I will be certain to never underestimate the power of the elderly living life dangerously on the edge!