I am sitting at Gate C1 at Detroit International Airport. A mother and daughter of 4 sit across from me. Mother looks as if she has been traveling for a few days. Her eyes are heavy. Her smile is faded. Her shoulders sag. Her young child in tow is wide-eyed and full of energy. “What are we doing, Mama?” the inquisitive girl asks her exhausted parent.
Mama replies with more patience than I could muster, “We are waiting for them to tell us to get on the plane. Do you think you can do that?”
“Yes!” the little girl exclaims. In a flash, she grabs her toy Delta airbus and takes off into a crowd of deporting passengers. Mama, in surprise, jumps up, turns to watch her young girl nearly trampled by several 200 pound men, zooming roller bags, and deadly pairs of 6-inch heels.
“CJ!” She calls out, “CJ! Be careful!”
From the midst of the crowd a small, clear, voice emerges, “I’m okay, Mama. I’m okay.”
“I know you’re okay. I know,” a stronger and clearer voice reassures, “But you must stay close. You will get hurt if you aren’t close to me.”
I can’t help but watch this scene and make a comparison to my own life. How many times have I been little CJ? I find myself asking God, “What are we doing now, God?”
“We are waiting, my Child.” He replies. “Do you think you can do that?”
“Sure,” I say, “For a minute.” Then I’m zooming off to spend my time waiting for the next thing. And God calls out to me…”Whoa! Slow down! What are you doing!?”
“Just waiting, God. Like you told me to. But I got bored. I have to do something with my time. But, I’m okay, God. Don’t worry.” An ignorant voice answers.
“You are okay. But you need to be careful.” My Father says sternly.
“OK,” I sheepishly respond.
Then, as a mother cradles her toddler in her arms for safety, my God holds me to his chest and whispers, “Just stay close to me. You will not get lost. You will stay safe. You will be surprised by how quickly the time will go, if you just listen to me. Believe me, you are much better off.”
In my mind I think, “But God, this is not exciting! This is not what I want to do today. I’d really just like to play with my toy airbus in a crowd of strangers…even if I do get trampled.”
“I know,” God says with a smile. “But I will not let you get trampled. Even if that is what you want.”
My heart swells with joy when I remember I have a protector bigger than the world I live in. A person who knows when I say, “I’m okay,” what I really mean is, “I need you and I always will.” How can I help but smile when the words he declares, prove true in my everyday life? He says to me, “I have graven you into my palms, you are mine.” Happy tears of relief and love spring forth as my whole life begins to change. What can I do but shout from the roof tops, “You are a great God! Thank-you. Because of you, I am okay. I am okay, and I can do what you say. I can wait.”
Monday, May 30, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
fish sticks and fry sauce
Everybody has pet peeves. Some find nails on a chalkboard completely repulsive. To others it’s the sound of chewing. I've met people who hear the sound of cracking gum and it causes the hair on the back of their neck to stand straight. My list isn't very long and tonight I hadn't really thought about my list of pet peeves, but in the interest of this entry, here goes. I am annoyed by dust, commercials, dial-up Internet, dog hair, cats, red lights, people who run red lights, very-windy-and-blustery-days, sweat, messy handwriting, and cherry popsicles. Tonight I add one more peeve to this pessimistic list: smoke detectors.
These useful home additions wouldn’t bother me at all - if they actually alerted me of danger. If the intended purpose for these inventions was accurately carried out, I don't think I would have a problem with them. I think I wouldn't even notice them, to tell you the truth. I rarely look at the ceiling. I might even venture to say, I would love smoke detectors, if they existed for their meaningful purpose. Unfortunately, this isn't the case in my small, two-bedroom duplex. Those sneaky little detectors remind me of their awful existence weekly and this makes me hate them.
At least once a week, I am in the kitchen, minding my own business, beginning to enjoy the fact that I can make more than spaghetti and macaroni, when out of nowhere...BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
But I don't hear BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
I hear, "Your pizza's burning again. HA! HA! HA!"
I don't hear, "You better turn on the fan and open a window or you'll inhale smoke."
Instead I hear, "Your cookies are roasting, and I'm going to tell the whole neighborhood about it!! Hee! Hee! Hee!"
I find myself rushing to the aide of the smoke detector, waving my towel wildly in circles, thinking, "Please shut-up, Please, shut-up! Please, oh please, oh please."
When the device finally decides to quiet its alarms, I heave an exasperated sigh of embarrassment, pull my crispy meal from the billowing oven, open a window, turn on the fan, and recline to devour the charred...something. It’s not bad enough my dinner has turned to ash, but my pride has taken a fall as well. Now my neighbors and anyone within hearing distance knows I cannot cook.
Maybe it’s not the detector which gives me annoyance, but rather the action which causes the detectors alarm in the first place. If I knew what I was doing, the detector would not go crazy, and I would not get annoyed.
Tonight the detector gave out its shrill warning cry once more. This time, I had had enough. After a wild wave and gentle dismantling, I removed that detector from its home on my ceiling. It now sits on my kitchen table, unaware of its surroundings and unaware that I am in the midst, learning to cook, and smoking the place to pieces. Ahh, and for once I can sigh, smile, and eat my meal without the rest of the world knowing my fish sticks are black as night…except, of course, for you, dear Void. You know. And for some reason I am not annoyed by that.
These useful home additions wouldn’t bother me at all - if they actually alerted me of danger. If the intended purpose for these inventions was accurately carried out, I don't think I would have a problem with them. I think I wouldn't even notice them, to tell you the truth. I rarely look at the ceiling. I might even venture to say, I would love smoke detectors, if they existed for their meaningful purpose. Unfortunately, this isn't the case in my small, two-bedroom duplex. Those sneaky little detectors remind me of their awful existence weekly and this makes me hate them.
At least once a week, I am in the kitchen, minding my own business, beginning to enjoy the fact that I can make more than spaghetti and macaroni, when out of nowhere...BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
But I don't hear BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
I hear, "Your pizza's burning again. HA! HA! HA!"
I don't hear, "You better turn on the fan and open a window or you'll inhale smoke."
Instead I hear, "Your cookies are roasting, and I'm going to tell the whole neighborhood about it!! Hee! Hee! Hee!"
I find myself rushing to the aide of the smoke detector, waving my towel wildly in circles, thinking, "Please shut-up, Please, shut-up! Please, oh please, oh please."
When the device finally decides to quiet its alarms, I heave an exasperated sigh of embarrassment, pull my crispy meal from the billowing oven, open a window, turn on the fan, and recline to devour the charred...something. It’s not bad enough my dinner has turned to ash, but my pride has taken a fall as well. Now my neighbors and anyone within hearing distance knows I cannot cook.
Maybe it’s not the detector which gives me annoyance, but rather the action which causes the detectors alarm in the first place. If I knew what I was doing, the detector would not go crazy, and I would not get annoyed.
Tonight the detector gave out its shrill warning cry once more. This time, I had had enough. After a wild wave and gentle dismantling, I removed that detector from its home on my ceiling. It now sits on my kitchen table, unaware of its surroundings and unaware that I am in the midst, learning to cook, and smoking the place to pieces. Ahh, and for once I can sigh, smile, and eat my meal without the rest of the world knowing my fish sticks are black as night…except, of course, for you, dear Void. You know. And for some reason I am not annoyed by that.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
getting a hug...
It was a blistering hot day in July. A few friends and I were out rummage-saling for furniture. I had just moved to Utah. The living room was bare the bank account was too, so rummage-saling was the absolute only option. It had been a few hours and a few cheap buys before I spotted him - abandoned on the side of a dead-end street, dirty-white in color, saggy from the heat of the Utah sun, and smelly. It wasn't his appearance which caught my attention but rather the gigantic sign he held in his arms which read, FREE in bright-red letters. We stopped, took a look for creepy crawlies, had a seat...and whoa! This chair was perfect. Dirty and old as it was, after one sit I was in love. I couldn't let a poor neglected, over-stuffed, comfy spot go to waste. Ten minutes later, Old Stuffy found a new home in the truck bed. Once home, after a good shampoo and disposal of a few cushions, that old stuffy chair found a perfect place in my living room. Today, it's the spot from which I write to you.
Remember I once mentioned writing is therapeutic? Today is one of those nights I am writing only to write. Why not write about an over-stuffed chair which has given me so many comfortable moments in these last nine months? You're right, there is no reason not to. I will.
This chair is more than a just a chair for sitting. It serves many purposes all of which include, but are not limited to: lounging, dining, working, writing, chatting, paying bills, contemplating life, texting, facebooking, sipping tea, reading the funnies, and the ever so popular sport of napping. Yet, with all these uses, this chair serves an even greater purpose in my life these days. Many times, this chair has served as a hug. Now, don't start feeling sorry for me. Just listen and you'll understand.
This chair has huge arms. I can curl all the way up in its pillows and surround myself with its warmth. Unlike a person, this chair has never-ever let me down. It has supported my weight and my many, many, meals of spaghetti, without a single complaint. Never have I gone in for a sit and been rejected. When I come home after a long day, exhausted and ready for a place to rest, this chair is waiting for me with open arms. On rainy Saturday mornings, I enjoy lounging with this chair, sipping tea and quietly thinking, the chair thinks with me. When I argue with the chair, I always win. When I talk to the chair, the chair doesn't give unwanted advice. When I ask the chair life altering questions, the chair silently lets me know I shouldn't worry. I love this chair...and I think this chair loves me too.
Of course, a chair is no substitute for the human hug. I hate to write it, (and please don't tell my chair) but in the sad event I'd get rid of the chair or the chair became stolen or lost, I would not be too heart-broken. So, really whatever feelings I have for this chair are, in actuality, very minuscule compared to my feelings for the many people and passions in my life. At this very moment, however, I find this chair and my place in it to be the very best possible place I could be on this earth. Curled up, cuddly, warm, happy and safe, in the hugging arms of my Big-White-Over-Stuffed-Free chair.
Do you have such a "chair" in your life, dear Void? It is my hope you do. For, for anyone to go through life without a place to feel such warmth, would be a very sad life indeed.
Remember I once mentioned writing is therapeutic? Today is one of those nights I am writing only to write. Why not write about an over-stuffed chair which has given me so many comfortable moments in these last nine months? You're right, there is no reason not to. I will.
This chair is more than a just a chair for sitting. It serves many purposes all of which include, but are not limited to: lounging, dining, working, writing, chatting, paying bills, contemplating life, texting, facebooking, sipping tea, reading the funnies, and the ever so popular sport of napping. Yet, with all these uses, this chair serves an even greater purpose in my life these days. Many times, this chair has served as a hug. Now, don't start feeling sorry for me. Just listen and you'll understand.
This chair has huge arms. I can curl all the way up in its pillows and surround myself with its warmth. Unlike a person, this chair has never-ever let me down. It has supported my weight and my many, many, meals of spaghetti, without a single complaint. Never have I gone in for a sit and been rejected. When I come home after a long day, exhausted and ready for a place to rest, this chair is waiting for me with open arms. On rainy Saturday mornings, I enjoy lounging with this chair, sipping tea and quietly thinking, the chair thinks with me. When I argue with the chair, I always win. When I talk to the chair, the chair doesn't give unwanted advice. When I ask the chair life altering questions, the chair silently lets me know I shouldn't worry. I love this chair...and I think this chair loves me too.
Of course, a chair is no substitute for the human hug. I hate to write it, (and please don't tell my chair) but in the sad event I'd get rid of the chair or the chair became stolen or lost, I would not be too heart-broken. So, really whatever feelings I have for this chair are, in actuality, very minuscule compared to my feelings for the many people and passions in my life. At this very moment, however, I find this chair and my place in it to be the very best possible place I could be on this earth. Curled up, cuddly, warm, happy and safe, in the hugging arms of my Big-White-Over-Stuffed-Free chair.
Do you have such a "chair" in your life, dear Void? It is my hope you do. For, for anyone to go through life without a place to feel such warmth, would be a very sad life indeed.
Monday, May 9, 2011
No time to write.
7:11 AM Wake up. Take a walk.
7:32 AM See an older man walking his dog, think about writing about being dogless.
7:47 AM Return home for tea and an egg sandwich. Make coffee.
7:56 AM Finish breakfast, think about writing about breakfasts.
7:57 AM Start an episode of "How I Met Your Mother," think about writing about On Demand television. Also think about changing cable plan.
8:20 AM Shower, get dressed, do hair, get coffee, write offering check, grab Bible. Think about writing about rushing.
9:12 AM Check mailbox, start car, read mail, drive to church, sing in the car. Think about wirting about Salt Lake City drivers.
9:27 AM Arrive at church, greet friends, sit down to Bible Class just on time, engulf self in Romans, chapter 3. Think about writing about unrighteousness.
10:35 AM End Bible Class, talk to a parent, chat with a prospect parent, smile at a new-comer, sit down next to friends in worship.
10:47 AM Think about writing about what it must be like to be a parent in a church service.
Noonish Stroll out of church in conversation, congratulate and welcome newly baptized family, chat and laugh with church-goers, wish "Happy Mother's Day." Make plans for lunch with friends.
1:33 PM Leave for lunch with friends, end up at The Training Table, order the Guac burger. Decide to write about fast food.
2:59 PM Return from lunch with friends, call Mom to sing, "Happy Mama's Day, To You!" Leave a message.
3:14 PM Home. Re-heat coffee, enjoy with my Bar Harbor moose mug. Gaze at the falling rain. Listen to the rain. Soak in my coffee. Think about writing about coffee.
3:17 PM Realize I have stuff to do. Pay some bills, organize finances, research insurance, figure out life.
6:22 PM Think about writing about organizing my life.
6:23 PM Call Mom back. Tell her "Happy Mother's Day!" Talk about how I spent all day organizing my life. Ask her advice about my life. Talk more about what I've discovered about my life today.
7:23 PM "Oh, how are you, Mom? I haven't even asked about you yet."
7:25 PM Mom has to go...Dad made her dinner.
7:25 PM Think about writing about how great Moms are.
7:27 PM Get writer's block.
7:32 PM Facebook. Putz on computer. Organize life more. Sort laundry.
8:55 PM Realize hunger. Drink water, begin school work.
9:00 PM Stop to check Facebook.
10:43 PM You really need to write about Facebook addiction.
10:44 PM Close the computer, re-begin school work.
11:32 PM Pack school bag, make lunch, prep coffee, set alarm for 5AM, brush teeth, floss, wash face.
11:43 PM Think about researching skin acne treatments.
11:44 PM Lay down to write before bed.
11:45 PM Research skin acne treatments.
12:02 AM Still not tired. Acne is gross to write about. Play some electronic Scrabble.
12:15 AM Lose electronic Scrabble.
12:34 AM Winner!
12:35 AM Too tired to write about the sensation that is Scrabble. Skim TIME's Special Report about how Osama Bin Ladin is dead.
12:55 AM Yawn. Time to sleep. Writing will wait.
1:11 AM Mind will not sleep. It's been over a week since you wrote. Void misses you. You miss Void.
1:26 AM Finish rediculous entry.
1:27 AM Post.
1:28 AM ZZZZzzzzz......
7:32 AM See an older man walking his dog, think about writing about being dogless.
7:47 AM Return home for tea and an egg sandwich. Make coffee.
7:56 AM Finish breakfast, think about writing about breakfasts.
7:57 AM Start an episode of "How I Met Your Mother," think about writing about On Demand television. Also think about changing cable plan.
8:20 AM Shower, get dressed, do hair, get coffee, write offering check, grab Bible. Think about writing about rushing.
9:12 AM Check mailbox, start car, read mail, drive to church, sing in the car. Think about wirting about Salt Lake City drivers.
9:27 AM Arrive at church, greet friends, sit down to Bible Class just on time, engulf self in Romans, chapter 3. Think about writing about unrighteousness.
10:35 AM End Bible Class, talk to a parent, chat with a prospect parent, smile at a new-comer, sit down next to friends in worship.
10:47 AM Think about writing about what it must be like to be a parent in a church service.
Noonish Stroll out of church in conversation, congratulate and welcome newly baptized family, chat and laugh with church-goers, wish "Happy Mother's Day." Make plans for lunch with friends.
1:33 PM Leave for lunch with friends, end up at The Training Table, order the Guac burger. Decide to write about fast food.
2:59 PM Return from lunch with friends, call Mom to sing, "Happy Mama's Day, To You!" Leave a message.
3:14 PM Home. Re-heat coffee, enjoy with my Bar Harbor moose mug. Gaze at the falling rain. Listen to the rain. Soak in my coffee. Think about writing about coffee.
3:17 PM Realize I have stuff to do. Pay some bills, organize finances, research insurance, figure out life.
6:22 PM Think about writing about organizing my life.
6:23 PM Call Mom back. Tell her "Happy Mother's Day!" Talk about how I spent all day organizing my life. Ask her advice about my life. Talk more about what I've discovered about my life today.
7:23 PM "Oh, how are you, Mom? I haven't even asked about you yet."
7:25 PM Mom has to go...Dad made her dinner.
7:25 PM Think about writing about how great Moms are.
7:27 PM Get writer's block.
7:32 PM Facebook. Putz on computer. Organize life more. Sort laundry.
8:55 PM Realize hunger. Drink water, begin school work.
9:00 PM Stop to check Facebook.
10:43 PM You really need to write about Facebook addiction.
10:44 PM Close the computer, re-begin school work.
11:32 PM Pack school bag, make lunch, prep coffee, set alarm for 5AM, brush teeth, floss, wash face.
11:43 PM Think about researching skin acne treatments.
11:44 PM Lay down to write before bed.
11:45 PM Research skin acne treatments.
12:02 AM Still not tired. Acne is gross to write about. Play some electronic Scrabble.
12:15 AM Lose electronic Scrabble.
12:34 AM Winner!
12:35 AM Too tired to write about the sensation that is Scrabble. Skim TIME's Special Report about how Osama Bin Ladin is dead.
12:55 AM Yawn. Time to sleep. Writing will wait.
1:11 AM Mind will not sleep. It's been over a week since you wrote. Void misses you. You miss Void.
1:26 AM Finish rediculous entry.
1:27 AM Post.
1:28 AM ZZZZzzzzz......
Monday, May 2, 2011
in these 15 minutes
On Mondays I like to get to school extremely early. I take that back. To some it may seem extremely early, but I enjoy a good early, relaxing morning. There is something special about the freshness of a new day which causes my brain to work more efficiently. Even in college I found proofing and finalizing a paper in the early morning hours, was much more effective than pinching myself to stay awake late into the night.
This Monday I walked in the building at my usual 6:30 AM and began the tasks of the day. I made copies, set out worksheets, straighted the classroom from Friday's craziness, prepared my Bible lesson for the morning...and Wha-lah! It's 7:35 and I'm ready for the day. I've got 15 minutes to reflect before faculty devotion.
I smile as I gaze out the one window in my classroom and see the sun shining in a perfect, cloudless sky. Today is going to be a great day. I'm calm as I contemplate the excitement which will envelope 14 little faces as they enter the classroom this morning. My heart jumps a little as I think of the many opportunities I will have to be part of their lives today. I anticipate the frustrations and the joys. In these 15 minutes I find myself taking time to say a prayer. I take 15 minutes to talk to my Lord and I know He is listening.
In my prayer I take time to say thank-you. Thank-you for this day. Thank-you for this sunshine. Thank-you for all the blessings in my life. 15 minutes is a lot of time to think about how blessed I am. I have a roof over my head, a job I love, a beautiful state to live in, fabulous friends who care, a family that loves me, and above all, a Savior, who will never leave me. Thank-you Jesus, for this day. Thank-you Jesus, for these 15 minutes.
This Monday I walked in the building at my usual 6:30 AM and began the tasks of the day. I made copies, set out worksheets, straighted the classroom from Friday's craziness, prepared my Bible lesson for the morning...and Wha-lah! It's 7:35 and I'm ready for the day. I've got 15 minutes to reflect before faculty devotion.
I smile as I gaze out the one window in my classroom and see the sun shining in a perfect, cloudless sky. Today is going to be a great day. I'm calm as I contemplate the excitement which will envelope 14 little faces as they enter the classroom this morning. My heart jumps a little as I think of the many opportunities I will have to be part of their lives today. I anticipate the frustrations and the joys. In these 15 minutes I find myself taking time to say a prayer. I take 15 minutes to talk to my Lord and I know He is listening.
In my prayer I take time to say thank-you. Thank-you for this day. Thank-you for this sunshine. Thank-you for all the blessings in my life. 15 minutes is a lot of time to think about how blessed I am. I have a roof over my head, a job I love, a beautiful state to live in, fabulous friends who care, a family that loves me, and above all, a Savior, who will never leave me. Thank-you Jesus, for this day. Thank-you Jesus, for these 15 minutes.
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