We Are Finished!

Day One

22 miles.
We finished.
Very, very tired.
Very, very stiff and sore.
Lucy has bad blisters.
20 miles to go tomorrow. Ready for bed.
More tomorrow.

Here we go!

Morning Comes Early

This is the view from the back porch this morning. It is hard to be too grumpy - even if you aren't a morning person - when God greets you like this. We are being transported to the start line now. 22 miles today. Wish us luck!

One Foot in Front of the Other

In just a couple of hours Rosemary and I will leave for the MS Challenge Walk. I hope to blog from the road - maybe literally - as I recently joined the throng of crackbe . . . um, Blackberry users. I haven't tried it out with Jott yet to see if I can post a verbal message with any accuracy. We'll see.

I have a teammate this year. We are calling this weekend "Lucy and Ethel's Great Adventure." (She's a big Lucy fan.) I'll refer to her in my posts as Lucy, and her husband as Ricky. (Gee, I'm so original!)

Please keep us in your prayers. Rosemary and Lucy are both struggling with seasonal allergies and have felt pretty rough in the last 24 hours.

Me and Machines

Machines just don't like me.

When I taught high school English, the school purchased some fancy-pants duplicating machine that was supposed to be the best thing since sliced bread. (Funny, I haven't seen another machine like it anywhere else since!) Anyway, that machine would quit working every time I walked in the office. Every. time. The teachers' mailboxes were located immediately behind this sensitive beast, so I had to go to the office frequently. It finally reached the point that when the secretaries saw me coming, they would frantically motion for me to wait outside the door while they retrieved my mail for me.

In general, plain old copy machines work okay for me. Except, of course, if I am in a big hurry and the items being copied are of utmost importance.

You might remember how my heat broke this past winter and how the repairman came out and found nothing wrong.

Yesterday I put a load of clothes in the dryer. About ten minutes later I heard a horrible noise coming from the machine. I turned it off, waited a few minutes, and tried again. Same horrible noise. I called the repairman. While I was on the phone with him I turned it back on. Same horrible noise. "That definitely doesn't sound good" was his comment. He showed up first thing this morning - bless his sweet heart. He took the machine apart, found nothing broken, reassembled it, turned it back on and - you guessed it - it worked perfectly. All he found out of order was a ribbon and 23 cents. So I paid him the $65 service call and he went on his merry way. I just finished drying a load of clothes with no problem.

Dang machines!

A Glimpse into Another Life

My sitter had an appointment today, so I picked Emily and Ian up from school following their half-day kindergarten. On our way home we pass Small Town Park, which apparently has become the favorite hang-out for 4-year-olds and their moms. I know the sitter takes the kids there regularly. Having pretty much cleared my schedule for the day, I turned into the parking lot and set my two children free to run and play with friends. I walked over to join the circle of stay-at-home moms.

Let's just say that I stick out like a sore thumb in this kind of setting. These mothers are now a tightly knit group, talking of teething babies, best buys on sandals, the t-ball schedule, what errands they had to run next, etc. My only 'in' was with a neighbor of mine that I already know from other circles. I felt like the interloper or the wallflower, trying simultaneously to fit in and disappear.

About that time Emily came running over to see if I would go with her to the big kid swings on the opposite side of the playground. "Watch me and see how high I can swing!" she said happily. One of the moms said, "She's really gotten good at pumping her legs. She's really good now." Now I know she said this to compliment Emily, who was still standing eagerly in front of me listening to every word. And Emily glowed when she heard it. But let me tell you what I heard. I heard something like, "I come here everyday. I've been here regularly watching your child improve. I know better than you do what she does on the playground. Too bad you're not a stay-at-home mother like me." Mind you, she didn't say a word of that. In fact, she probably didn't even think it - although I guess you never really know. It was my own Inner Critic talking, the one who attacks everything from my writing to my pastoring to my appearance to my parenting. Damn Inner Critic.

I gladly retreated with Emily to the far corner of the playground. I helped her jump up into the high swing, gave her a small starting push, and watched as she did indeed pump her legs and rise higher and higher into the air. In just a few minutes, one of Emily's friends - a petite blonde pixie of a child - came running to join us. I helped her up and got her started. She wasn't sure how to pump her legs so I kept her going while Emily instructed her on the finer points of leg pumping. Then a shy little girl began hanging around, keeping a safe distance. I asked her if she wanted to swing. She timidly shook her head yes, so I lifted her up and got her started. The next thing I knew three of the boys ran to join the fun and I became the official swinging mom. (Yes, I know you could read that two ways. Don't go there!) It was fun! I looked across the playground and saw the circle of moms still standing there, hands on hips, deep in conversation. I decided I was in the better place.

After awhile, one of them came to join me. "I wondered if you wanted someone to share the swing duty," she commented in a friendly voice. A few minutes later another one came, this time bringing conversation that was open to this lonely outsider. Slowly the clique cracked open a door for me to enter - just with a visitor's pass, I'm sure; at least I was in for the day.

As a rule, I am content with my life as a single working mother. I can't quite picture life as a stay-at-home mother, although I don't think I'd mind giving it a try under the right circumstances. I don't really think about it often. Today, though, the realization came rushing back to me that my family is not 'normal,' that I do have to utilize childcare so I can work for the basics of our life. I don't have a husband whose paycheck lightens the load (or carries it!) or who could join me in the joy of raising the children. I put up a good front that it doesn't matter to me or that I never think that much about not having that male influence in the house for the kids or the companionship for myself. My front is so well crafted that I sometimes even fool myself.

All it takes is a short glimpse into another life to remind me of the real person behind the front.

Time for Bed

Hope I can sleep as well as Rascal!

Tony the What?

So I'm sitting at the computer, checking blogs and headlines, eating some dry Frosted Flakes as a snack. Emily turns the corner, still rubbing her Sunday afternoon nap from her sleepy eyes.

"Mmmmm! I want some Flocks 'n Flakes, please!"

Feathers, anyone?

Guess Who?

Guess who was with the kids at church today? The same dear woman who always does it. Bless her - I love her. Overall I am still disappointed in the others. Guess I need to learn to accept what I cannot change.

The Bother of Children in the Church

That's what it's feeling like to me.

As I've said many times before, my children are the only children in the church. The session decided after the little ones came home from Guatemala that they would hire someone to keep the nursery. I've been pleased with the care they receive from our hired nursery worker. They love her. I have not been pleased, however, that we've been unable to find anyone to teach them for Sunday School. I currently send them next door to the Baptist church each week for Sunday School. They return to Small Church afterwards for time during worship with their nursery worker. Nor have I been pleased with the overall willingness of church members to step up if our worker has to be away for a Sunday. There is one woman who is always asked and who almost always agrees. This is the same woman who often keeps them on nights when I have night meetings. They love her and she loves them. Still, she should not be the only person in the church we can call upon. The elder with whom I have a rocky history, especially for the past year, is the one in charge of staffing the nursery. She has kept the nursery maybe twice over the past two years. Ususally she is "getting over a cold" or has some other reason she isn't available.

Today I received an email from her telling me that our worker cannot come on Sunday. We are having a coffee fellowship after worship this week, so she said she would be busy before and after worship and couldn't do it. Did I have any suggestions?

After spending several hours mulling over my reply, I decided to answer in this way: "I would be glad to keep the nursery on Sunday if you can find someone else to lead worship. If that won't work, then all we need is to find someone who can read stories, work puzzles, supervise free play, and be firm enough to keep the kids from being wild Indians. I would think that any of the following individuals (I named about 8, including her husband) would be able to do that..." I refrained from ending as cattily as I began and decided not to say that surely one of those individuals would be willing to live up to their end of the baptismal covenant.

I have a sneaking suspicion that she wanted me to volunteer to take the kids to my parents (who happen to be on a much-needed camping vacation) or volunteer their older sister (who gets her fill of being responsible for them over the course of the rest of the week). I'm not letting them off the hook this time. They need to take some responsibility for their role in the nurture of these children in church - not because they are my children but because by nature of the covenant, they are our children.

Too bad they have such a hard time seeing past the bother to the blessing.

Preacher Mom Catches Up with the Times

I am writing this post from a nifty little sandwich/coffee/ice cream shop with a New Zealand theme in the cute little town next to Small Town. This is my very first public internet time - except for the library, of course. It's kinda cool! I find myself a little distracted by all the comings and goings, but I'm completely amused by the looks I get from some of the other customers. "Is she eavesdropping or writing about me?" their furtive looks seem to ask.

I've been on a quest recently to spice up my work day. At Small Church, no one comes to the church unless it's for an event of some sort. After my scare over the winter, I spend as little time working there as possible. I usually work from home, from my 'study' which is actually a cluttered corner of the kitchen. I've been struggling with lack of productivity there recently. The clutter clutters my mind. It makes me want to either get up and do housework or go take a nap. Ugh. So I've been moving out to different arenas for concentrated study/writing time in an effort to remedy the feeling of isolation that haunts this solo pastor. Who knows, maybe I'll even find my missing muse!

I've discovered that I can get A LOT done in one of the little study rooms at Small Town's library. It's a tiny little room with a window, so I don't feel claustrophobic. I can leave the door cracked so that I don't feel so isolated. And being out of sight of the books is a tremendous help for this bookaholic, yet being in such close proximity is comforting. (I'm a strange one, I know.)

Today I decided to try this sandwich shop. It's small and comfortable. Well, the chair isn't so comfortable after awhile, but the surroundings are great. They play really good music (a mix of Celtic, classical, folk, etc.) - but not too loud. If I get too antsy, I can always get up and choose a treat from their gourmet homemade ice cream collection. I'll try to avoid that one, though. This is the kind of ice cream that packs a whole meal's worth of calories in a single scoop! In the meantime, I'm sipping on a cup of hot tea, listening to the shop owner's delightful New Zealander's accent.

I can't say that I've accomplished as much as I would have liked so far, but at least I'm enjoying not accomplishing it! Now . . . let me see if I can reverse that trend. Not the enjoyment part, but the accomplishing part.

Monsters in the Night and the King

When Rosemary was a little girl, her biggest night fears were of wolves and alligators. It took night lights, guardian stuffed animals, and lots of reassurance to get her to believe that no wolves or alligators would carry her away in the night. I even had a picture made of me petting a real wolf at an Outdoor Expo. I couldn't wait to tell her that she never had to fear wolves again because Mama and King Wolf were now friends. I told her that King Wolf had promised me that he would make sure that all the other wolves would leave her alone. I even had the photograph to prove it! We laugh about it now, but those fears were quite real to her then.

Last night she got word that her long-distance boyfriend's (LDB's) mother may have lung cancer. This woman has been in poor health for a long time now. She will have more tests this week, but they are fearing the worst. We talked about this at length before bedtime. Then right after I drifted off to sleep, she came into my room crying. "Mama, I can't sleep. What if it is cancer? What if he loses her?"

It seems that the real demons of night came out to haunt her last night. Those moments before sleep stretch long and desolate when dark thoughts crawl into bed with you. She was shaking, distraught. I did something I haven't done in a long time with her. I urged her to just crawl in bed beside me. To make this picture complete, you need to know that I gave up my queen-sized bed when I moved across the hall to a tiny room after bringing Emily and Ian home from Guatemala. I now sleep in a twin bed. Rosemary is now 16 and taller than her mother. It was, to say the least, a tight fit.

In spite of that, she did crawl in beside me. I curled up around her (as best I could) the way I used to when she was so young. I held her close and silently prayed over and over, "Lord, calm her down. Please calm her down." After awhile we began to talk, first about LDB's mother and then about other things, like the sweet newborn baby that lives next door. Eventually she drifted off to sleep. When I felt her body relax, I did the same. I never would have believed that the two of us could sleep an entire night in a twin bed, but we did. In fact, we slept well.

One of my last thoughts at about 1 a.m. as sleep began closing in on me was that I sure miss the days of wolves and alligators. Those I could handle. Those I could fix. So much of the pain and fear that she will face from this point on will be out of my control.

My comfort in this is that while I don't have a photograph to prove it, I do know the King, and this King promised to protect us. We may not be delivered from the things that frighten or hurt us, but we don't have to face them alone.

Update: The latest news from LDB indicates that the tests today show NO cancer! Thank you, Lord!

Yawn . . .

Long week.

Busy week.

Very tired.

Be back soon!

Wouldn't You Know?

Two weeks ago, the whole family (myself included) was sick.

Last week was spring break, which brought a much-needed family get-away.

This week, which needs to be catch-up week, is a five meeting week. I don't think I'll ever get caught up!

Ugh. Wouldn't you know?!

Spring Break

Sometimes you need to get the heck out of Dodge. Or in my case, sometimes you need to get the heck out of Small Town. Yesterday I made the last minute decision that the best possible use of a portion of my tax return would be a family vacation. I made a quick reservation for three nights in Southern Historic City on the coast. I am thrilled to say that I am writing this from a comfy chair in our hotel room as I listen to my two youngest children's deep sleep breathing. Rosemary is on her computer emailing her long distance Texas boyfriend who happens to be in Nebraska this week.

This is our first real family vacation with just the four of us. When the kids were younger, I always left one or both of them with grandparents so I could have some quality time with Rosemary. Now that they are a little older, it seemed the time had come. I think they are probably as thrilled with the hotel itself as anything so far. Anything, that is, except for our walk on the beach tonight. It was Ian's first experience at the beach and Emily's second. She was too young the first time around to remember it.

They! loved! it!

Mind you, it is just April 1st and it is still a bit cool. That didn't seem to bother them at all. Here are a few pictures from our after dinner outing at the beach.




Rosemary says that it's just a little bit cold!


You can't catch me!