Drifting Snow ... bad for driving.

Well, last night was a little more exciting that I expected. When I left Omaha, I was thrilled that I got moving 15 minutes early. More sleep for me (ok, 15 minutes means a lot sometimes!). The interstate was clear and it was a beautiful night for a drive. I'll admit, it was a little cold and windy, but the road was great. You could tell the semis have been needing some nice weather through the state, they were out in full force. But, they're always easy to drive with. I just feel that much safer on the road, knowing that those guys are working through the night.

I stopped in Des Moines for gas and began to wonder about the roads north of Highway 30. I knew that they hadn't been great, but oh my goodness, it was only 2 inches and the worst of it had ended on Monday, how could it still be bad by Tuesday night, right? I will say it again, I wondered about this county road up here and how bad it might be. In fact, I actually considered just stopping in Des Moines and staying in a hotel for the night. But, I didn't have any part of my life with me - just changes of clothes ... no shampoo, deodorant, toothbrush ... nothing. I just needed to press on through.

But, no ... I'm tougher than this, I can do it. It just can't be that bad. I mean, really! It's not like they haven't had plenty of practice this winter. They know how to clear roads.

I drove north on I-35 and the roads were still clear ... until I got to the exit about 10 miles south of where I usually turn off. Patches of ice began getting in my way. I really began to worry.

I turned off my exit and began heading west. The first stretch of road from Ellsworth to Jewell was fine. A few patches of snow and ice, but this is nothing I can't handle. When I left Jewell, everything changed. A few patches of bare concrete - a lot of snow and ice. Everything would still be fine if I could just drive slowly enough. There are no curves in the road, its a straight shot.

The first batch of drifted snow concerned me. Then, the second. The drifts kept extending further and further into the lane. I was driving in the eastbound lane. Finally I came upon a drift that pretty much went across both lanes. I shook my head, stopped the car, turned it around and left.

You see, I knew full well that the location where I had gone in the ditch last month would be awful. And I knew that it wouldn't be the worst I saw. I also knew that I would have to deal with a gravel road into the cabin and I wasn't even sure what drifting would happen on the lane to the cabin. Driving through all of that at 12:30 am was not appealing.

There is a very nice hotel at the exit just before the ice began on the Interstate - about 10 miles south of my exit. I headed out and had to stop at a convenient mart for shampoo, etc. But, I tucked myself into bed, smiled and knew that I wasn't going anywhere for a long time. I'd stay until those plows got out and ate up the drifts and the sun came out and began melting the ice.

I drove in about 1 pm - still patchy ice and snow, but it's no big deal. The gravel road is in beautiful shape, the plows had destroyed the drifts, the sun is shining brightly in a clear, blue sky, the snow is glistening, the icicles are melting. It's a glorious day.

The amount of email and activity I need to catch up on from being offline for 24 hours is a bit overwhelming, but that's ok ... the delete button works pretty well on my computer. I'm looking forward to sticking my nose back into the Bible and my History books tonight. I try to write a week's worth of blogs while I'm here and everything is quiet.

My friends and family know that I will try my best to use wisdom when I attempt to travel during bad weather. I'm not so sure that it's wisdom as it is terror after putting my Jeep in the ditch once, but at least it kept me safe last night and will keep me safe for a few years, until I can put it behind me.

As for the winter snows? Can I just hear an "AMEN!" when I say that this needs to end? I'm really tired of bad weather. The snow is beautiful - in fact, it is absolutely gorgeous, but I'm ready for temps in the 30s and 40s and no more snow on the roads!

Random Thoughts: Lent, Athleticism, Fear.

I saw several tweets, blog posts, etc., this morning regarding what people will be giving up for Lent this year. Along with making New Year's Resolutions, this is another of those things that I just don't do well. It's not that I don't have things in my life that I should sacrifice during the season, I just have a terrible tendency to forget or else I get really rebellious and that's never good. So, I face Ash Wednesday with a bit of a grin and move through the season.

Lent is a strange season for me. When I was growing up, it just wasn't something that we Protestants did. All of a sudden, though, I was part of churches that had Wednesday evening services and talked about sacrificing something important. I can remember thinking it strange that I had never seen this happen before except for a few of my Catholic friends who didn't eat meat on Fridays.

No, I'm not giving something up for Lent ... but by the way, if I did, I don't believe I'd tell you about it because I'm pretty sure that it's supposed to be a covenant between me and God.

~~~

I have a little more than six months before I begin my Master's program. In that period of time I feel a mad desire to cram as much random knowledge into my brain as possible. I'm pretty certain that as soon as I begin, I will no longer have the time to be a recreational reader.

However, I also feel the need to accomplish something astounding in these next six months. So, I have until March 1 to come up with a GRAND plan for a project - probably writing. There's my goal and here's hoping that on March 1, I can tell you what I will be doing.

~~~

The other evening I was talking to a friend about athleticism (or the lack thereof in my case). I had a great boyfriend in high school/college. I must have driven him absolutely batty. Even when I was a small girl, I was never athletic. It just really never made any sense to me. The finish line would be there whether I crossed it or not - and just because I ran slower or faster than anyone else didn't change that fact.

Rick, however, was tall, athletic and loved nearly every sport. He tried so hard to be patient with me. I wasn't a klutz or anything, I just didn't understand why I should have the same passion for these things. I wanted to read or play my music, I wanted to hang out with my friends or write letters and stories. He tried to teach me how to play tennis. He was excellent. I was not. He would hit the balls to me, I would hit them off the court and he would chase them. His patience never ran out, so I tried to figure it out. I failed.

He wanted me to learn to ski. We went to a local Iowa location (yea, IA mountains?) and when my arms wore out from pulling myself up the mountain on the rope lift, he would stand behind me to ensure that I was having the best time possible. I messed up my ankles on those trips - not fun. He loved roller skating and we would head to Ottumwa to skate. When I was wobbly, he would ensure that I made it round and round the rink, only leaving my side when he just HAD to put on the speed and chase someone down.

Rick was a cross-country runner. When I got to college, I decided that to stay in shape and keep up with him, I needed to start running. Every single morning I hit the streets of Iowa City and ran. I hated every single freakin' moment of it, but it was something he loved passionately and I knew that I needed to at least try. I don't know what I thought I was going to do - I was never going to keep up with his long legs ... ever! One full semester later, I just shook my head and laughed about it.

My father was an athlete, but could never instill a love for those things in me. He tried and tried. It's a good thing that I got excellent grades and excelled in music and my studies - otherwise the poor man might have tossed me out on the street.

You know, it's really funny - the things we do and don't do in our lives.

~~~

I've been thinking a lot about fear lately. The Greek word for fear is "phobos." Yup - all of our phobias. The Spartans capitalized it - Phobos. It was a proper noun. A name for a living, breathing entity. I see fear that way sometimes. It possesses me and stops me from doing what I want to do. Fear stands in front of me and taunts me. I hear those little girls in elementary school telling me that I can't do something because I'm not good enough, so I don't even try.

Does fear bind me up so badly that I can't even think of things that might be exciting to do?

My mother was afraid of closed doors. It was a fear that she recognized, but could do very little about. She would beg other people to go with her to an unknown location so that they could open the door and she could then be freed to enter and do what she needed to do. Once she could see what was on the other side of the door, she was fine.

Fear needs to be set aside so that I can be all I've ever dreamed of being.

~~~

Maybe that's what I should give up for Lent ... fear.

Oh, oops - I told you about it. I wasn't going to do that, was I?

It's not about me?

There are always some things that I just take for granted. Things like the idea that 'it's not about me.' I hear this over and over again and sometimes I think I've got it and other times I need to hear it more often. Sometimes I pay attention to various phrases and words that come into my life to remind me of this and other times I allow them to just become absorbed into the vast amount of information that I take in during the day.

This weekend I seem to have been taking in this information more and more. I don't know if it's for me or for you.

"This is love: not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins." 1 John 4:10

I hear a lot of Christians going on and on about how much they love God and somehow that in itself is supposed to make a difference. When I read this verse in my email inbox, I was struck by how unimportant our action or inaction is. God doesn't wait for us to love Him. He doesn't change His mind about how He loves us based on what we do or don't do. He loves us because He is. That's all there is to it. We try to make everything else a huge big deal and we create rulesets for how we respond to this love. We pass judgment on ourselves and others, we spend hours trying to atone for the sins we have committed.

We make this entire relationship with God all about us! We are so focused on what we do as Christians, we forget that it's not about what we do - it's about what God has done, is doing and will always do. Love us.

The rest of that? Pretty self-centered.

Then I read this:
I have learned that what we have done for ourselves alone dies with us. What we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal. - Author Unknown

That pretty much speaks for itself. I have nothing more that I could possibly add to it. It's not about us.

I've been reading an amazing novel by Steven Pressfield, "Gates of Fire." It's about the Battle of Thermopylae - the Spartans and the Persians in 480 bc. The man's writing is incredible, but I find myself caught up in the insights that I see into the training of the Spartan army. At the age of 7 they began training for battle. The boys were whipped and beaten, nearly starved and physically destroyed so that they would be fearless on the battlefield. All fear of loss of life is removed from them. What they came to understand was that their bodies didn't belong to them. Their bodies belonged to their commanders, to their country. They would willingly give their bodies up for the city, their families, their fellow Spartans.

If they lost a piece of armor or headgear, it was overlooked, but if they disrespected or lost their shield, they were punished severely. The armor or headgear was for personal protection, but the shield was part of the protection of the line and was essential for caring for their brothers on the field, some of whom they were very close to - and others whom they didn't know at all, the just knew they were fellow Spartans.

I live in a culture and a world that is extremely self-centered. We demand that everything be adjusted to adapt to our personal comfort and freedom.

As I thought about that this morning, I began to chuckle as I realized how frustrated we are (I am) with the weather. This is something that is out of our control. We can't adjust it to make things easier or better for ourselves. We have to simply wait until the season is over and we find that maddening!

Today I'm going to pay attention to the people I interact with, the things that I do. What ways do I find to make life for myself easier at the expense of another - or even simply ignoring someone else? What behaviors do I exhibit that show off my selfishness?

I don't know that I'll be able to change much, but self-examination in my case on things like this generally is good for me and causes me to pay close attention to the needs of people around me. What about you?

I Love the Stories!

This evening I was at my old church, Faith-Westwood, to help the kids at their fund-raiser Valentine's Dinner. I just had to play the piano for a few songs, so it was an easy gig and a great chance for me to say hello to friends.

What I didn't know when I said 'yes' to doing this was that it would turn out to be one of the most fascinating evenings I have had in a long time.

As much as I love to tell my stories, I love to hear others tell their stories. I could sit for hours and listen to an articulate and passionate speaker tell his or her history. I didn't get enough time tonight to listen to all that I wanted to hear.

As people began to gather for dinner, I set my stuff down beside a very good friend, expecting to enjoy her company for the evening, not knowing who else would fill out the table. I moved around the room, hugging and greeting friends and then returned to the table to find that another couple had joined us. I knew these people just as acquaintances while at Faith-Westwood, never having an opportunity to discover more about them. As the evening progressed, I discovered a couple that had lived an interesting life and one that they were thrilled to have been able to live.

Vada beamed the entire time that she was telling me things that had happened in her life and her husband was in his element as he described his life in the military and then as a civilian. When I asked him where his most interesting post had been, he told me that he had spent quite a few years in Air Force intelligence during the Viet Nam war. He left the Pentagon to go to Viet Nam and upon returning ended up back at the Pentagon until he retired (not too much later, he was done with that job).

She was part of the Singing Sergeants and got to have tea with Mamie Eisenhower. She met many foreign dignitaries as they came into Washington, DC and always found her life filled with fascinating people.

They lived in Japan and Hawaii, after retiring from the military, he began teaching kids with learning disabilities in Florida. They both grew up in Nebraska and after moving back from other locations several different times in their lives have finally settled here to be close to a son and their grandkids.

I got a little choked up as I listened to them talk about their lives. Here are stories that I might never have known, but this evening I was given a chance to sit back and listen as they talked. He talked about working as a projectionist in a movie theater in Colorado when the Korean War started. He wanted to join up, but his boss wasn't thrilled with both he and his buddy leaving him in a lurch, so he coerced them to wait to sign up until they had someone trained to take their places. They looked for the oldest men available to work the projectors so that this wouldn't happen again. But, the only problem was, it took the old guys 3 months to learn the craft. He could hardly stand waiting that long to get involved!

One of the things that I realize I had lost with my Grandfather McFarlane (Mac) was his stories. He was an amazingly brilliant and creative man, but to me, he was an old man who was terribly needy. I was too busy to realize how cool his stories would have been. I missed it all and today, that just breaks my heart.

People are so much more interesting than I am. I am thankful that I have a curious mind that looks for their stories. They love telling those stories and a new listener is always welcome. I was reminded tonight that encouraging the story is so important. This is what makes life fun. I can't wait to see who I will meet next!

Giving - the best gift

I sponsor a child in Uganda through Compassion International. Since I have them take the funds electronically from my checkbook, I don't probably think about him as much as I would if I actually wrote the check each month, but then again, this way I also don't forget to ensure the funds are there.

A couple of times a year I have the opportunity to do a little something extra for him and for his family and I always do this with great joy, knowing that this helps more than what my normal funds do, which support a community of which he is a part.

Today I got a thank you letter from him and the woman who wrote down his words listed some of the things his mother was able to do with the money. After reading this, how can I not continue to support him?

With a small Christmas gift that I sent to him, his mother purchased pants, shoes, vaseline and something that I can't read. It made his day memorable. With a gift that I was able to give to the family, his mother invested some into a business for the family, tithed to the church, bought shoes, slippers and socks for the family, a church photo, a crate of soda, 5 kg rice, 20 kg posho (a maize flour), movit jelly (petroleum jelly that protects the skin), and a packet of salt.

I have to say ... these are items that additional funds coming into their home afforded them the ability to purchase. They aren't extravagances by any means which is what we come to believe Christmas gifts should be. The difference in what is important to each of us in opposite ends of the world sometimes strikes me to the core.

I've been seeing a lot of posts on Facebook about what a shame it is that we have spent so much effort caring for the people of Haiti when we have starving people, etc., here in the United States. That bothers me more than I can say. I am grateful that we open our hearts in times of extreme tragedy. And for those who complain about this, I certainly hope that they are giving like crazy to local charities and doing all they can to help. But a disaster of the scope that we see in Haiti is always something that we need to respond to. It's the human thing to do - not an American, not a Christian - a human thing to do. As the country struggles to pull itself back together and rebuild, the people of Haiti will take on the responsibility for their challenges much as anyone does after a disaster of that magnitude. Little by little the countries of the world will back away and return them to their independence. And you know what? They will then have to deal with homelessness and starving children, orphans and horrendous social issues - just like every other country in the world, including the United States.

Do you know that over 100 countries and international aid organizations offered assistance to the United States when Hurricane Katrina hit? It was the human thing to do.

Today I received a thank you note that filled my heart and reminded me why it's better to be generous than critical, giving rather than selfishly stingy. I'm going to close this and open another screen to write Asiraf a note encouraging him as he grows up in a community that supports him and his family.

You know what his last words were to me in the letter?

May the God of Abraham, Jacob and Isaac continue to bless you abundantly and may God multiply and enlarge your territories.

God already has ... He filled my heart with the words of a little boy in Uganda.

Fulfilling Dreams

I started reading another book today that sent my spirit flying. Steven Pressfield's "The War of Art." It's not a terribly long book, it won't take too long for you to read and it will ask you to set aside preconceived notions of what the creative process really is.

Our resistance to doing what is good and right for us is what stops us from doing amazing things. Before I got too far along in the reading, he had caused 'resistance' to be a real entity residing in each of us.

What do you long to do? Why aren't you doing it? If you don't know what it is that you long to do, why not? What is stopping you from having a bigger life than you have?

Well, it's resistance - the enemy of creativity - and it shows up in many manifestations: self-deception, procrastination, self-sabotage, on and on and on.

There are a lot of books out there that are written to inspire and encourage. This book flat out challenged me to think about how I live and work on a daily basis.

Every little thing that can get in my way - does get in my way. When I sit down to begin writing, whether it's actually the writing or maybe I'm reading and researching, a million things can interrupt. If I look around the room and see things out of place, I can't settle down until I've fixed those things. If I know that there is a phone call I need to make or that one is coming in to me, I can't concentrate at a deep level until that is taken care of. If my stomach rumbles, I have to quiet it before I can think of anything else. I allow these distractions to take over and stop me from doing what I set out to do.

I rationalize that activities that I do, I procrastinate terribly. One of the things Pressfield said was that a true procrastinator never says, "I'll never be able to write that great book," but she says "I'll write that great book starting tomorrow."

Even now as I'm trying to write this blog, I find that I'm distracted by a split cuticle and found myself looking for my clippers to deal with it.

I can hardly dispute the fact that people need to talk to me and I need to talk to them. Connecting at that level is extremely important. But sometimes it's just another distraction. I've watched a lot of authors talk about how their friends and family don't actually believe them when they need to be quiet for several hours during the day, with no interruptions. Once I allow myself to be distracted, it takes a long time for me to get back into the mindset I was in prior to the interruption and send my mind soaring down the creative path again.

I'd bet that every single person reading these words has something they wish they could be doing. Making beautiful quilts, taking pictures, designing landscapes, decorating homes, building robots, feeding the poor and homeless, singing on stage. It could be one of a million things.

The reason you don't (I have to tell you that I typed those words, then answered a phone call from my husband, got up to go to the bathroom, started a loaf of bread and changed my clothes. I may never learn this concept!) ...

Anyway, the reason you don't do the things you dream of doing is because of resistance. Pressfield holds nothing back - he pretty much attacks everything that you are doing in your life that isn't fulfilling your dreams. It hit me hard and made me take a look at some of my habits. Obviously it is going to take more than just reading a book to fix me ... but, I believe that I can make these changes.

Do you believe the same for yourself?

Lots of words today

Wow ... I've enjoyed writing today, but my brain began to run out of words at some point! It took a little while for me to generate new ones for this blog.

Today I spent a lot of time reading and writing for my God in History blog. While I'm here at the cabin, where it is quiet and I'm fully alone, I find it much easier to write and think, read, study, research. So, I write at least a week ahead on my other blogs. Of course, the fact that I do this makes it interesting for me to talk about what is happening in the blog. This afternoon as Max and I were discussing the God in History blog, I found myself completely confused as to what he already knows from what I've written and what is coming up. He's pretty patient and doesn't mind finding out what's next - even though the little nuggets I've found are fun to discover.

I'm up to about the tenth century and it has been really fun for me to watch how the spread of Christianity throughout Europe has occurred and has affected Western Civilization. It's also been really interesting to see how our ideas on doctrine for the church have developed - things that we take for granted were being written down by incredible scholars as they thought on the things of God. It's interesting to see the moral decay occurring within the church as it gained political power.

You know ... Jesus came to bring salvation to a world that was in the midst of hideous sin. The Israelites had moved from being God's chosen people - twelve tribes that moved together through some amazing times, but began to fragment as they got comfortable living in the world.

Christians have done the same thing. In the early days, they called on the power of God to carry them through the awful persecutions of early Roman emperors. But, after Constantine brought peace and safety to them, they grew in power and began to fragment.

Just as the prophets of the Old Testament would be sent by God to re-energize the Israelites and bring them back to the fold, events happened within Christendom that would revitalize the church and remind people that their faith was greater than anything in the world.

I have done a lot of 'out loud' complaining today because I just didn't get a good education in Western Civilization. So as I'm trying to write short synopses of these events, I have to read and research a lot so that I have a full understanding of the time surrounding the events. I know that it's good for me, but sometimes I feel like there is SO MUCH that I don't know, I become overwhelmed.

The Matrix (the movie) offered me a science fiction idea of how to manage all of that information. I often think that I'd like to be jacked into the Matrix so that I could have all of the information out there available to me at just a thought. Jack me in ... jack me in.

The other night at rehearsal, the girls in the high school choir watched as I googled several different questions that came up. Someone turned to me and asked how I ever existed without the internet. The answer to that question is, "I have no idea." I think part of the reason I married my husband is that he is a walking encyclopedia. The reason I am returning to get my Master's Degree is that I want them to forcefeed more information to me.

So, here I am, writing words about learning and writing and reading and studying and researching. Wow, this is obviously a passion of mine. Would someone please hire me to do this for them on a daily basis? (ok, I'm kidding ... well, not really)

Girly things ...

There's nothing like feeling all girly every once in awhile. I spent time with my friend, Tanya yesterday. She has a salon in her house and beautified my hair for me. I've been fighting with this mass on my head this winter - it was so dried out. Oh, and then there is the whole gray hairs poking through to be recognized thing going on. I asked Max last week if he saw any problem with me approaching 70 and still having brown hair (yes, that's far, far away ... thank you very much). He replied with the proper response. "No?" (And yes, there was a question mark after his response because he wasn't sure what to say to me.)

I told you that my mother wasn't much for doing girly things with me while I was growing up. All of her kids had curly hair and believe it or not, the stylists she found for us when we were kids knew nothing about dealing with curly hair.

THIS is what happened to me the first time mom took me to a salon. I was devastated. Sure, worse things could have happened, but it was torture and I ended up looking like I was wearing a wig! Ok ... I really like the natural look. Oh, and by the way ... I was 12. The woman gave me the hairdo of a 40 year old woman. I was miserable. She had also coerced mom into doing this - pretty much implying that mom wouldn't have to spend money ... nope, mom was given a bill.





Well, that ended that excursion into girlyness. From that point forward, mom cut my hair ... and at some point, Carol actually got really good at dealing with my hair. Then, one day while at Insty-Prints, these wonderful ladies walked in to order printing for their new salon. We had so much fun with them, how could we not try out their services.

Nearly every other Saturday, Carol or I would come up with a reason to hang out at their salon ... manicures, pedicures, makeup applications, hair color, cut, aw heck - I even let the girl perm my hair one time. Oh, and there WAS the time that she bleached out a hank of my hair in back and put a wild purple in - just for the fun of it.

I learned how much I enjoyed this girly stuff. You can't imagine how sad I was when they went out of business ... but, Carol finally told me she wasn't cutting my hair any longer ... I had to find another stylist and I began to enjoy the experience of hanging out in with women ... doing girl stuff.

After my post (Thank you!) yesterday about the exciting bridal shower, I got a note from an old friend who told me that she had grown up with four brothers and had no concept of girly things. She had no preparation for the stuff she would have to deal with as she faced life.

This morning I washed all of the product out of my hair and let it dry ... all of the colors are vibrant and rich, the gray has been hidden for another period of time, the hair feels soft and glorious and I feel amazing. All because I spent a couple of hours with a friend who treated me like a girl.

If you spend a lot of time doing girly things - good for you. I just don't, so every once in awhile it's wonderful to remember that I am a girl.

Thank you!

"We ought always to thank God for you, brothers, and rightly so, because your faith is growing more and more, and the love every one of you has for each other is increasing."(2 Thess. 1:3)

Saying thank you is another of those lessons mom stressed over and over again as we were growing up. Christmas day wasn't complete without a few minutes at the dining room table writing thank you notes for the gifts we had received from people outside the family. Birthdays, Easter, whenever a gift came into the home, someone was responsible to send a thank you note.

Grandma Greenwood saved several of them over the years and returned them to us - what fun to read the wild ramblings of a 6 year old who was required to write something ... anything down on paper in order to say thank you. Because you couldn't just say thank you for the gift, you had to fill the page.

This is such a lost art. I don't do it nearly often enough, but I still hear my mother telling me to sit down and write the note. A phone call wasn't good enough and I'm fairly certain she wouldn't find a quick email to be proper either. It's not just about the point of saying thank you, but an effort to let the gift giver know how special their gift was to you. And by doing so, how important that person is to you as well.

It's not easy to say a heartfelt thank you anymore. Carol and I had an employee at Insty-Prints that honestly didn't know how to say those words. I noticed it one Christmas when she talked about how great the gifts were, but never said the words 'thank you.' So, I began to pay attention and they simply never came out of her mouth! How in the world do you grow up without learning to say that?

For mom, teaching us to say (and write) thank you was as important as all of the other etiquette that she insisted we learn. Don't talk with your mouth full, don't stare with your mouth open (don't stare at all, but if you must - shut your mouth), put your napkin in your lap, don't shovel your food into your mouth, cut your food into small pieces, on and on and on ... she worked these tidbits of proper manners into our minds until we got it.

Ok, because I love to tell stories on myself ... and it's kind of related ...

I knew I had a short period of acceptable time after my marriage to get the thank you cards written, so I hustled. My stepmother had hosted this very strange wedding reception / party / shower for me. I wasn't invited (or even told it was happening). But, she had all of the ladies come to her house and they were asked to bring presents for me. Now, you have to know, that Dad was the pastor and he had moved to this church long after I was out of the home. I barely knew most of them and you gotta know they felt obligated to show up with a gift for me since I was their pastor's daughter. Talk about an uncomfortable situation for me when I discovered what had happened!

Anyway, she then decided I needed to open all these gifts on the day I got married ... yes, we had a million things to do, but I settled in with a pad of paper and a pile of gifts. I opened them quickly and wrote everything down.

There was one gift that I didn't fully open. After I unwrapped the box ... a very nice Dustbuster ... I set it aside and moved on. I remember thinking that it was a cool gift and would work perfectly in Max's darkroom.

Came home, began writing thank you notes, worked through the list, mailed them ... moved on with my life.

Later that summer - after all of the hoopla had died down, Max and I were reorganizing things in the basement for his darkroom. I remembered the Dustbuster and ran upstairs to get it. This was going to be perfect!

I opened the (what I thought to be factory-sealed) box and discovered ... a plaque.

I collapsed in laughter on the basement steps. I laughed so hard, I was crying. Max wasn't sure what was happening. I handed him the open box and he still wasn't sure what was happening because nothing made sense. There was no Dustbuster in the box ... just a quaint little plaque.

We still laugh about that and there's a tinge of embarrassment that surrounds the episode because I had to send another note to the family that gave me the gift apologizing for the first card and thanking them for the gift they actually gave me.

But, it didn't deter me ... I still make an effort to say thank you, I send thank you notes often. I make telephone calls, I send emails. But, mom taught me to say thank you ... out loud as often as possible!

I'm not old, spunky or sassy

Yesterday was kind of an interesting day ... some of it was amazing, other things that crossed my mind were flat out depressing.

I got a chance to see "Jesus Christ Superstar" with Ted Neeley (he starred in the movie version in the 70s) as Jesus. The music was amazing and though I haven't paid attention to it since the 70s, I remembered every word. My goodness, I spent a lot of time in that music when I was young. It is so ingrained in me that all I needed to hear was a few notes of an introduction and I sensed what was coming next.

After the show, Max and I headed to our friends' house for the Superbowl. I was really looking forward to the halftime show and a chance to see The WHO perform. Just before it started, I got a call from my pastor telling me that he thought they would be too old to perform and it was going to be disastrous. That was almost funny, since he and I had participated in a small altercation that morning regarding the fact that I was NOT old just because I clearly remembered music from the 70s.

What was so depressing? Honestly, Mark was right. Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey are probably too old to be singing the same music they were making 30 years ago. The show was fabulous, amazing lights ... the drummer was Ringo Starr's son ... lots of electricity in the air. Daltrey seemed to warm up as the show progressed. But, there's something about a young band desperate to entertain their audience that is quite different than a couple of old rockers brought out to remind of us of our youth.

As for Ted Neeley? I get it that a voice wears out while you're on the road. But, he is a 66 year old man asking his voice to be as flexible as it was 30+ years ago and that's just not reality. He pulled off some of the screaming high notes, but there was more screaming than note involved and I cringed through some of it. I felt awful for him. And then ... there is just something terribly wrong with a man that old playing a historical man who died at the age of 33. When the cross lifted with him hanging there in just a loin cloth, I wanted to cry at the fact that I was supposed to be emotional about the death of a Superstar, but was wholly disgusted with the fact that an old man's nearly naked body represented the vitality of Jesus Christ.

I told Max as we were leaving that I would hate to place myself in Neeley's position - where people felt sorry for him and made excuses for him rather than believe he did a fabulous job. That's all I felt - pity.

Now, all of that being said, I come to a point in my own life where I have to ask whether I'm too old to do certain things. A post came up on Twitter asking what age was too old for men to have their pictures on Facebook be of them without a shirt - age 13? age 14? I'm comfortable with the fact that there are going to be things that are inappropriate for me to do now that I'm 50. Last week, I asked Max if it was going to be awful for me to still have brown hair when I was 65? I have no intention of going fully grey (in public - I can't help what is happening under the dye).

I'm entering a really exciting period of my life and I will absolutely freak out on anyone that implies I am too old to move forward with my dreams.

So, I feel like I'm walking a fine line as I register disappointment and a little disgust with old rockers who don't care that they sound awful hitting the high notes, yet want us to accept them at their worst and then refuse to accept that age might limit me.

Here's the deal - I promise to NOT hang nearly naked (ok, say in a bikini) on a cross at the age of 66 and I promise to NOT try to sing music that I can no longer sing in my 60s. But, I simply will not promise to always act my age or stop doing things that excite me just because it is deemed inappropriate by the younger set.

And, if I make those promises, I beg you to do a few things for me. NEVER, ever, ever, call me spunky or sassy just because I still use my brain to think creative thoughts or my body moves to a great beat. I'm just Diane - doing the same things I've always done.

Smile!

Have you ever gotten to a checkout clerk who simply gives you a look that says, "I'm so tired of people walking through my line who are grumpy." I watched the girl at Hy-Vee yesterday as I approached her line and the couple before me were bickering with each other and any interaction they had with her was perfunctory.

By the time I got to her, she had probably dealt with dozens of those people throughout the day. The kid bagging groceries at the end of the counter was in no better shape. Sometimes it just looks as if they're shell-shocked!

The previous couple had ignored a coupon she tried to give them, so she offered to use it on my order. I looked at her, grinned and said, "I love you!" She looked surprised. I realized what I had said and went on, "Oh, that was probably excessive for $1.50 wasn't it?" And I just laughed. All of a sudden her face lit up and she was laughing with me. The kid bagging my groceries chuckled a little and by the time I left, both of them were laughing and smiling with me.

It wasn't that difficult.

This is another of those lessons my mother taught me. The lesson was so profound, I have a distinct memory of where I was sitting (on the couch in the living room) and her standing over me. She had walked in and as I looked up, she asked me, "What's wrong with you?" I was startled because there was nothing wrong with me and I said so. Then she lit into me (soon there was something wrong with me, trust me!). But, what she said resonated through every part of my being.

"If there is nothing wrong with you, then learn to smile more often! There is absolutely no need for you to walk around with a sour expression on your face and it's time that you learn that a pleasant expression is just as easy to achieve as a bland or sour face."

I didn't get a chance to say much more. She had put it out there and I needed to comply. My rebellious nature didn't allow me to deal with it right then, but these are words I hear in my head all the time.

It's important to me that the image I offer the world is a reflection of what is truly inside my heart. I don't mean the minor annoyances and moments of fury that occur throughout a day. I mean the joy that I have all the time. That's what the world needs to see from me. That's what mom was trying to teach me.

I notice people glancing at my face when we pass on the street. What kind of response will I give them? Will I ignore them, give them my best scowl, or will I smile? It's wonderful to watch their response when I look them in the eye and smile. Faces light up, postures straighten, their walk becomes more purposeful.

A pleasant face is much more beautiful. Mom was right.

Big Dreams

This morning as I was puttering around, I thought about where my life has been and where I'm going.

I tend to drift back and forth between breathless anticipation, palpable terror and lukewarm apathy. I've learned a lot about patience, but sometimes I feel useless I wonder what it is that I can qualify in my past as having been a good (and successful) idea.

Now, I move past those negative feelings as quickly as possible, but they are still there in the back of my mind, ready to jump out and smack me whenever I give them a chance.

I can hardly wait for the next part of my life to begin. The dream of getting my Master's Degree at Asbury has been in my heart for at least 25 years.

It occurs to me as I write this that until a dream becomes a goal, it is insubstantial. Nothing will come of it and it will rattle around inside me until I go crazy! I could tell this was happening to me last year when I realized that I had the opportunity and the time to head back to school and began to process on the how. I couldn't get anything nailed down in my head, so I was creating all sorts of scenarios - none of which seemed to be solid.

God must have finally gotten weary of my blathering mouth and my pleas for discernment because it seemed like it was out of the blue when I saw an ad for Asbury in a random location and decided to try one more time, hoping they had expanded their online education. They had! My 25 year old dream could become reality. All I had to do was begin the process.

I think about the big dreamers of the world and how they have changed things for millions of people because of their dreams. They moved those big dreams into goals and began working through a process to make them come true.

If all I do is dream little dreams and let them remain as vapor in my thoughts, I will end up doing nothing. I dream big dreams, think big thoughts, have grand ideas! And I will do all I can to make them a reality.

Will you play with me along the way?

My Grandma

You know ... in my last post, I talked about making bread with my Grandma Greenwood. As I thought back over that post, I thought a little more about her.

This woman was the personification of a grandma. She was soft, smelled good - most of the time like something cooking in the oven, she played games with us, she would take the time to sit on the sofa and hold us just to let us know how much she loved us.

Grandma had 23 grandkids and loved us all unconditionally, even though some of us tested her mettle when it came to lifestyles and choices. She lived with a difficult man and raised 8 children, 7 to adulthood. She watched her families grow up and mourned the passing of several of her children.
She was born in 1900 and watched a lot of things occur in this world and my poor father had to deal with her death 6 months after my mom died.

She loved music and couldn't wait for any of us to get there and offer to play or sing for her. She would only ask if she knew we were ready, Grandma was never going to put us on the spot.

I loved going to her house. She had a sofa with a very strong nap and I remember playing on the back of that sofa, making patterns and pictures in that dark blue fabric. I played the organ in her house - the only time I ever enjoyed playing the organ. I remember playing "Onward Christian Soldiers" once and she came out from the kitchen to ask me to stop. She didn't believe in war of any sort and that song was much too militaristic for her. I stopped.

She had a few quirks and beliefs that she made clear to her family and though we may have disagreed, none of us could ever imagine doing anything to upset her. Grandma didn't use swear words and wouldn't allow literature in the house that contained them. Consequently there were a LOT of Reader's Digest Condensed books in that house.

When she cooked, she cooked for an army. She had fed a family of ten for so long, I think she couldn't imagine not having plenty of food on the table. But, it was as if her family knew when she was cooking, because before the meal was on the table, kids and grand kids would show up to share in the feast. She drove my mother crazy, due to her insistence on using every pot in the house to make a meal. Mom always knew she would be stuck in the kitchen washing dishes when everyone else had left. I was glad to be old enough to help Grandma with this so Mom could be elsewhere and not annoyed.

She made the worst green beans in the world, though. Those things went on the stove at the beginning of meal preparation and came off when everything was finished. I'd never eaten anything that tasted bad coming from Grandma's kitchen, except for those green beans. There was an amazing carrot salad that was one of her specialties. Believe it or not, I LOVED shredding the carrots in her grinder that she attached to the kitchen table. And the salad was fabulous.

At night, I would sit on the edge of her bed while she sat at her vanity and combed out her long hair. It was always pulled up in a bun during the day, but it dropped to the middle of her back. She knew that she needed to brush it one hundred times to keep it healthy, and she did. We'd talk about the day and then she would hug me and send me upstairs to bed.

Memories of Grandma include her pantry in the cellar, shelves filled with canned goods that she replenished every year, hanging clothes on the line outside nearly every day. There was always something coming out of that washing machine. We played a lot of Rook, Flinch and Milles Bornes. She didn't care who won, she just wanted to find ways to spend time with us. The cookie jar was always full and when she could no longer bake like she wanted, she made sure that it remained full, even if it was with store-bought cookies. Grandma did needlepoint and made quilts until her eyes got bad and her fingers couldn't remember their dexterity. Then, she turned to plastic canvas. She just knew that idle hands were the devil's workshop.

Jesus was the most important person in Grandma's life. One night as she lay in her bed suffering from a fever that nearly killed her, she prayed and prayed that Jesus would spare her life because she had such a large family to raise. She saw him at the foot of her bed that night, assuring her that she would be fine.

In everything she did and every word she said, she honored the relationship she had with Him.

I was impacted greatly by my mother, but my grandmother taught me about generosity, gentleness and kindness and what a life lived in humility and service to Jesus looked like.

Bread and Water

I'm pretty certain I could live on bread and water. Now, I would miss my Diet Mt. Dew and I would desperately miss M&Ms, but I could live without them if necessary. Oh my goodness, though - I would have a very difficult time giving up bread. Some of my friends can't tolerate gluten in their diet. I'm fairly certain that I would have to murder someone if that were removed from me.

::chuckling::

I remember elementary school lunches. If there was nothing better on the menu that day, the ladies always had bread and butter sandwiches and sandwiches with mayo and lettuce at the end of the line for us. I lived in those.

I adored Wonder bread as a kid. A bologna sandwich on Wonder bread with Miracle Whip? That's all it took to make me happy. I'd nibble off the crust, leaving as much of the inside as possible and then in my first bite I would suck all of the air out of the bread, plastering the entire thing to the roof of my mouth (I still do this if presented with bologna on Wonder bread by the way). Or I would squeeze the bread down into one hard little ball of dough (after removing the crust again, of course) and play with it in my mouth until mom yelled at me.

My Grandma Greenwood made homemade bread and when I got old enough, she and I would spend time together in the kitchen while she taught me how to knead it properly and be patient with the rising process. For a lot of my early life as an adult, I made bread as often as I possibly could with this method. But, one day I ran out of time and thus, my bread making came to an end.

With the advent of the bread maker, I got started again and I can't tell you the joy that comes from making a loaf of bread! To watch 7 simple ingredients turn into a slice of heaven is exquisite! The scents that emanate from my oven during that 50 minutes of baking almost make me high.

I finally realized (yes, I'm fifty and figured this out) that it is now my bread and if I want to destroy the look of the loaf by slicing into it while it is still hot, that's ok.

Dad told the story of discovering a hot loaf of bread resting on the table. The smell was too much for him. He turned it upside down, dug a hole into the bottom and emptied the bread out, enjoying every moment of it. He did have punishment coming when his mother discovered what he had done, but he still told the story with joy, not regret.

You know - I think Jesus knew what he was saying (other than the obvious) when He called Himself the "Bread of Life." Yes, He identified Himself with this because of the necessity that bread was as a staple in people's diets. But, all of the things that surround a loaf of bread ... mixing the ingredients, kneading the dough, patience while rising, smelling the bread rising, sharing the bread with friends and family all are a part of the gift that comes with a loaf of bread.

And don't forget ... the crustiness on the outside often leads to tenderness on the inside. I've known a lot of people like that.

Yup, these are the thoughts going through my mind as I smell bread baking while writing like crazy today.

More words please!

I've been reading a lot lately. I feel like I have a short window in which to read everything I can get my hands on because once I start into the Master's program at Asbury, there won't be a lot of time available for me to do any extra-curricular reading.

While I absolutely adore and can't imagine functioning without my incredible fiction habit, I've been reading a lot of stuff that I can't believe I find interesting! I certainly wasn't reading all of this while I was in business or working on staff at a church. Had I been, I might have driven everyone crazy, I suppose with my insistence that they read along with me.

Seth Godin's new book, "Linchpin" is amazing. This guy is fun! He really challenges us to set aside our traditional outlook on business, life and all that goes with it and begin to find ways to make ourselves more than what we are. We are more than a cog in a great big machine, we need to find ways to make ourselves indispensable - a linchpin.

In other words, we need to dream big dreams and then find ways to go after those dreams. For some of us, those dreams might be in our hobbies, for others of us it might be in our career. This book has been an exciting read for me.

Last fall I read his book, "Tribes" about building connections with the people that will make change with you. Amazing book. Amazing man with great ideas! And his blog? It rocks.

While in the middle of this book, I've also been reading Shaunti Feldhahn's book, "The Male Factor" which is a great look at how men and women react differently in the workplace and how women who work with men can shoot themselves in the foot by not understanding what they are doing to their bosses and coworkers.

I've also been reading "Freakonomics." While this has gotten rave reviews in the world, I find that I'm not a fan of economic theory - especially those that seem to portray the underbelly of the world. They make a lot of assumptions based on statistics.

I thought a lot about why I didn't like the book and by the time I got to a conclusion, I had traipsed over so much territory in my brain, I wasn't sure of the path any longer. But, one of the things that drives me nuts is how they interpreted the statistics they were working with. And of course that lead me down the path of incorrect interpretation and how I also can't stand the misuse of scripture to prove a point, especially when it is taken out of context. That was an entirely different and very long thought process.

Now, the problem with all of this reading on the Kindle, is that when I purchase a book, Amazon starts recommending other books that I might find interesting. Oh yes, I certainly do! The other awful part of my life online is that I follow a lot of authors on Twitter and on Facebook and you know what author's do? They read ... and then they recommend.

There is not enough time for me to read al of these books! And I can hardly wait to dive into some of them.

Next up for me is "The War of Art" by Steven Pressfield and I'm into the "Sneaky Uses for Everyday Things" books, the "100 Words" series by the Editors of the American Heritage Dictionary and I'm still working through "The Lexicographer's Dilemma" by Jack Lynch. Oh, how I love words!

So, if you want to know why I haven't written so much over the last few months, a lot of it has to do with the fact that I've been reading and reading and reading ... a lot! A Kindle battery is supposed to go for a long time and I have to charge mine at least every other night, sometimes every night. No matter where I am or what I am doing, I find a way to read. If I'm waiting in my car at Arby's, I'm reading my Kindle ... if I'm waiting for rehearsal to start at church or at my community choir, I'm reading my Kindle. If I get somewhere early and have to wait, I read my Kindle.

Words make me a very happy girl.

Things mom never taught me

This morning as I got ready for the day, I slathered lotion on my legs and arms and just giggled. My mind is always processing - remembering, thinking.

About 20 years ago in February, I was at a prayer retreat. Those were always wonderful weekends. But, one afternoon I went back to my room - my legs were so dry, I nearly scratched them raw! Carol had a little bit of lotion in her travel bag, I had none.

This was one of those things that mom didn't do well with. She was never into the body care stuff at all. If there was lotion like that in the house, the bottle was thrown out long before it was emptied just because it was so old.

Mom didn't take us to stylists (well, she did once and it was a disaster), she didn't know how or teach us to use makeup. Her complexion was amazing, her eyes were stunning and she might have used a little lipstick when she dressed up. It wasn't important to her. She didn't paint her nails and would never have dreamed of something like a pedicure.

So, it was in my 30s when I realized how important lotion is during the dry winter months. And just this year, I finally realized that putting some on the bottom of my feet would actually be a good idea in order to avoid those hideous moments of itching when you're in a meeting and can't take your shoes off!

I chuckle when I realize how I didn't receive any of this information from mom and how I had to figure it out on my own. Silly things.

Those are the things she didn't teach me.

The things she did teach me are far and away of greater consequence than a few lessons on personal care.

I still hear her voice in my head when I drive (those driving lessons must have been intense!). I learned how to teach from her. There was nothing she loved more than transmitting information she had just learned to someone else. I learned to love the written word, whether I was writing or reading. She taught me that the people who weren't 'popular' were actually more interesting, a lot more fun and definitely more loyal as friends. She loved me so much that I couldn't imagine a life without love. I learned that I was a person of worth because she imagined nothing else for me.

Mom's passion for the Bible lives in me. Once that woman found out who Jesus really was, she was His for life.

She balanced her passion for Jesus with a passion for people, so that doctrine and rules were never more important than His love for them.

Mom was never bored. There was always something going on in her mind. She hated busy work, housework, meetings ... anything that took her away from being creative. She taught me how to live like that. Life is too short to only be spent on the mundane.

The things mom didn't take time to teach me are so insignificant that I can only giggle when they occur to me because the things that she did teach me are what define me today.

We Need Each Other

This morning I read something written by a friend of mine who seems to hate herself ... a lot. The way she looks, the way she behaves, the way her life is taking her. It's sad.

I also continually read tons of negative status updates on Facebook and Twitter from my friends who have a dismal outlook on life most of the time. Every once in awhile you can tell that they try to say something positive, but for the most part, it's sad.

While I would love to believe that Seasonal Affective Disorder has taken over all our lives, I think there's more to it than that. There's more to it than just the simple fact that people have negative personalities or tend to see the rotten aspects of life regularly.

We need each other. A lot. We need more than we are giving to each other. We need affirmation and love, attention and forgiveness.

I could look at these posts and updates and see self-centeredness, but what I actually see is the fact that I am the selfish one. I get so tired of this constant need for attention that I tend to walk away shaking my head, when what I should be doing is reaching out.

One day, long ago, I decided to perform an experiment. You see, I've always been a bit of a pollyanna-type personality. I don't say too much about what is going on in my life. People really don't care and even if they do, they don't have time to deal with it. So, that week I had to make a bunch of calls asking people to assist in programming at the church I was working for. As always, the first question out of their mouth would be, "Hi Diane, how are you today?"

Great question, eh? To be honest, that week I had a cold, I was worried about my dad who had just had emergency gall-bladder surgery, I needed to pay some bills that were concerning me and I was really annoyed with my boss.

I wondered to myself ... does anybody really care when they ask that question or is it simply a matter of habit. First person who asked me that question was in the hot seat. "Hi Diane, how are you today?"

"Well, Jim ... it's actually been a tough morning. I feel awful today."

You could shred the silence it was so thick. He worked at the local bank and did not have time to deal with me. This was also not the Diane that he worked with every week. She was happy and free with compliments, focusing on others and not herself. The poor man had no idea what to say to me. So, he said, "That's too bad, what's up. Did you need me to do something at the church?"

Yup, he moved right on past it. And so it was.

We desperately want someone to care about us. Someone other than those who are required to care. We want to feel important in other people's worlds.

Sometimes we become important in someone else's world. A friendship begins to blossom and all of a sudden you realize that there is another human being that cares for you. As the relationship grows, you quickly learn about each other and you think you've found someone that will be interested in knowing crazy things about you.

These relationships don't occur often enough, as evidenced by the fact that we continue to reach out for more attention.

Now, I could tell you that God is the friend that will never leave you and will always pay attention to you. That's absolutely correct. But sometimes we have to recognize that our need for humanity to pay attention to us is enormous!

Maybe God has put us here so that we are in place when He asks us to reach out and care for others because He can't physically put His hand on their shoulder and He can't type words into a status update saying, "I love you" or post a response saying, "You are worth more than you can ever imagine."

And maybe, when we're feeling sorry for ourselves, God is reminding us that there are others who would benefit from our love and attention. Because when we finally give in to that and pay attention to someone else, whaddya know, they're paying attention to us as well.

We need each other. Moment by moment, day by day, all through our lifetime. It's easy to become self involved and forget that piece of the puzzle. I suspect, though, that with just a moment's processing, you can think of someone that needs a quick email, comment, or call to remind them that you are interested in their lives.

Commitment/Procrastination

I typed today's date into an email I sent this morning and had a sensation of 'newness' flood over me. It's a new day, the beginning of a new week, the start of a new month. What would I do with this?

Honestly, I feel a bit guilty about having this blog sitting out here barren, with no current thoughts, ideas, or words. For awhile I was committed to writing every day, but then I didn't. It got easier and easier to just not write down my thoughts and tell my stories.

Funny thing, when I'm in the middle of self-discovery or change or just stuff, it's simpler to stay quiet than it is to babble away.

At the same time, I've felt incredibly boring. There is little to nothing exciting going on in my world. It's the same old thing on a day to day basis. Oh my, I have big things on the horizon, but until those get started, what in the world about me is important to tell?

While all of these things seem to be true, I also know that for me, writing is more than just a flow of words pressing to get out of my head. Sometimes it's a lot of work.

My mind is always active, always churning, always self-adjusting. I am terribly critical of myself and judge myself against very high standards. When I write what I consider to be garbage, I toss it out. Goodness, when I even process a possible blog in my mind and consider it to be trash, I just set it aside until I've forgotten it.

This morning as I recognized my need to write and then also the commitment I had made (and since bailed on) to this blog, I saw the day as a fresh start. As soon as I began thinking about making a one month daily commitment to writing again, I read Seth Godin's blog (author of "Tribes" and his new book "Linchpin") on Modern Procrastination.

Thwap! Right upside the back of my head.

Writing is a choice for me. I have plenty of other things to do, things that don't actually mean much in the scheme of things. But, writing and studying are two things that are incredibly important in my life. I can waste time with the best of them and never get anything done that is important.

This is my challenge for the month of February. Every day I write something in this blog. Every day I open myself up a little bit to you. No more procrastination, no more second guessing myself, no more worrying that people will misunderstand or read too much into what I write. No more thinking about others reactions to my writing. I just have to do it.

And hey, February is the shortest month of the year, I can do this!

Cold ... and warmth

Everyone is complaining about the cold. I've decided that I'm going to just play along and do the same thing. I don't intend to rebel against the norm or try to make up some kind of namby-pamby pollyanna reason why we should be positive about this. I'm right there with you all - whining and complaining about the cold.

The thing is, I complain even more strongly about extreme heat. If the outside temperature approaches 95 degrees for more than one or two days in a row, I'm annoyed.

So, I'll just admit it. I'm an old lady who likes temperate climates. Neither the equator nor the Arctic Circle would be a top pick for my place of residence.

With all of this cold weather around me, I've been inside. Reading books, studying texts, writing blogs. It's what makes me happy anyway!

Last Wednesday evening I had dinner with friends that I'd never met before. Well, out of eight other people, I'd met one. The man who lives up here by our cabin is a wonderful guy. He's a pilot and he and his wife own a flying service. They invited me to dinner along with 3 other couples, 2 of whom are neighbors in the area. They wanted me to get a chance to meet people around here. What a wonderful evening!

It is so wonderful to be with people who love this area as much as I do, who are passionate about their lives our here, even when it's a frozen tundra, and who watch out for each other and care about what is happening in each others lives.

The funniest thing for me was the amount of hunting conversation. I just smiled and nodded. They take this seriously! Of course they do. I walked into my friend's home and saw three huge deer heads mounted above the fireplace (it is an immense room with a 26' vaulted ceiling). I knew right away that I was in a group of people that spent much of the winter in the woods with their guns.

Conversation prior to the meal with fun, with everyone gathered in the living room. But I got a chance to laugh again (to myself) after the meal, when the women moved to the living room and the men moved to a sitting room. What the...? Where ... ? Ok...

You see, I remember that happening when I was a kid and we'd gather with groups of my parent's friends for dinner, but since I had grown up and made my own friends, we'd become much more comfortable staying in mixed groups - the conversation always seems to be more interesting that way.

There are a lot of subtle differences between living in the city and living in a small community. Many of these I just absorbed as I became comfortable living in Omaha. But, more and more, as I move in and out of the rural communities around the cabin and into city life in Omaha, I'm discovering them.

I will process on some of these - some are so subtle that they're difficult to describe - like the manner in which people eat. Not their manners, but the way the approach a meal. It's different. It seems to be so much more comfortable and fulfilling here. Fewer worries about what they're eating and how they're eating. Maybe it was just the home I was in, but since there were at least 4 different homes represented there, I'm not so sure.

I still can't get past the fact that though making a living is a top priority for them, making money isn't. I woudn't be able to find someone to plow our driveway at home without ensuring that we would pay good money for it, but when I said thank you to them for taking care of my lane, I was assured that they had so much fun with their skid loader, they just wanted to have more places to play!

This is fun for me, watching the differences occur around me. I need to be better about writing them down so it can be fun for everyone!

A New Year - Excited!

I suppose that today should be a day of reflection and a day of looking forward. Instead I slept late and then started scrubbing things down. We have VERY old appliances here at the cabin and at some point it just became nearly impossible to keep them clean (stove/oven and fridge). I could barely stand it! So, I attacked both of them and they're much better.

What better way to spend New Year's Eve and New Year's Day than cleaning, right? I had Star Wars playing in the background. I know those crazy movies so well that I don't need to actually watch them. I see the action happening with just the sound playing. Every once in awhile, I'll glance at the screen because I love a scene, but for the most part I like the noise.

I am really looking forward to 2010. You see, I turned 50 last year and didn't like it. I don't feel like I am half a century old (well, that was an ugly phrase) and I hate the idea that I probably have less than 50 years ahead of me to accomplish all of the things I want to do. With that reality staring me in the face, though, I figure that it is definitely time to make changes.

Last fall I started with a couple of classes through University of Phoenix. Since I hadn't been in an organized learning environment since 1981, I was quite worried about how I would handle that situation. I did fine. Which gave me the courage to explore further learning opportunities. One of the things I have regretted is the fact that I never advanced my education. No Master's Degree, no doctorate. That was a bitter regret.

I have applied to Asbury Theological Seminary in Wilmore, Kentucky to get my Master's of Divinity. No, I'm not intending to be a pastor.

Actually, that's almost funny. When I was growing up there were two vocations that I never wanted to have anything to do with. I didn't want to marry a man who was a farmer (those women worked way too hard) and I didn't want to marry (or be) a pastor). I was pretty adamant about that.

I obviously didn't marry a farmer and I'm still adamant about the whole pastorate thing. But, the MDiv will propel me towards the doctorate and I'm hoping that as I move through the program I will be able to identify exactly what it is that I will do when I'm finished.

Asbury offers me the chance to do 2/3 of the degree online. I'll be glad to hide at the cabin to do this. I will have plenty of time, peace and quiet to study and work, while hopefully continuing with the study and writing that I enjoy doing for myself. There will be intensive weeks of classwork on campus, but this degree can actually work for me.

The application is in - every piece that I needed to deal with is finished. I had to write a personal history using their guidelines that took me much longer than it should have taken. But, it's finished and submitted. Now I simply need to wait for their acceptance into the program and work through financial aid.

In 1984, I had intended to leave the job I was in at the time (Christian Ed and Music Director at a UM Church in Spencer, Iowa) and head to Asbury for my Master's Degree. Life took a rather strange turn when I opened a printing business instead. I am so excited about the fact that I am finally moving towards getting the degree that I've always dreamed about.

Yes - 2010 is going to be an interesting year!

God In History - New Blog

The other day, Max and I were discussing a calendar that he had brought home from St. Cecilia's Cathedral in Omaha. He attends Catholic mass whenever possible and loves it. I was thrilled to have in my hands something with all of the feasts, saints days, etc., from the Catholic church. What an amazing look at the history of the church.

As we talked, I began to consider that many people are unaware of how the Christian church has developed through the centuries. The Catholic church is denigrated by many evangelicals and the idea of saints is abhorrent. But, in negating all of that, what happens is that we negate a great portion of history. God has been working in great ways through the lives of people all over the world for the last 2000+ years. Most of us have no idea who these people are or what they have done. Though we may not approve of sainthood, the fact remains that these people were working in God's name in our world. There was a reason they were recognized and we should discover what that was.

The way that Christians interact with the world and with each other has changed radically in the last 2000 years. We look at history through the lens of contemporary Christianity and have no concept of why early Christians responded to the world the way that history reports.

What all of these conversations and thought processes made me realize is that I can actually do something about this. On January 1, I will be starting a new blog: "God in History." Each day I will study and write about an event or a day in the history of Christianity following the Resurrection of Jesus.

The earliest days of Christianity are covered in the book of Acts and the letters of the New Testament. I'll begin with the meeting of the disciples found in Acts 15, but immediately after, I will concentrate on things that are not spoken of in the New Testament, but are found in historical records and extra-Biblical books.

If you'd like to receive a copy of this blog in your inbox each day - just let me know. Or, you can follow it or drop the RSS feed into your daily reader. I'd love to have you join me. I'd love to receive feedback and questions as we are going through this. The best way that I learn is through teaching.

The blog frame is up, there is no content yet. You can check it out at http://.godinhistory.blogspot.com.

Merry Christmas - Paying it Forward

In my last post, I wrote about buying cigarettes for a stranger. What a great story we'll have to tell for a long time and it's a fun memory of Christmas Day 2009.

It's not necessarily easy to be gracious and generous in today's world. We worry so much about people taking advantage of us and we've gotten really cynical about those that might need a little extra help. We're so concerned with making a few bucks and saving a few bucks that we forget to take care of anyone.

I decided to come up to the cabin today and spend some time processing on a new blog (announcement hopefully will come this week) and the information for the next series on my Pour Out a Blessing blog. I need to finish a personal story for an application and start working on some other things that are coming up as well.

The roads all looked good for the trip to the cabin and I had communicated with my friends up here so they knew I was coming and off I went.

I hit the interstate and pulled up to speed and my Jeep started shaking terribly. Wow. This isn't good. I pulled off the next exit, turned around and drove the interstate back to my exit. Yup, shaking over 65 mph. Unhappy Diane. I called Max and as we spoke, I thought about the fact that I'd been driving in tons of snow, none of it had melted and I wondered if I needed to deal with the snow in my tires. I tried to go to a car wash, but it was closed, however ... Jiffy Lube was open.

I pulled in, told the guys what was going on. They pulled the Jeep into a bay, chipped off a ton of ice and blew the snow out of my tires. The guys played with Leica (my dachshund) for awhile and then escorted me to my car. They had checked tire pressure and figured that everything should be good to go. Yes, ice and snow packed into the tire area will knock them out of balance.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Not a thing, consider it a Christmas gift. Let us know if you have any more trouble.

Wow! I was stunned. Owning a business in Omaha for 20+ years taught me a lot about cynical behavior. No one does much of anything without getting cash. I have been re-learning how to live among generous, gracious people as I've spent more time away from the city. Today though, I was grateful and surprised at the generous treatment I got.

When I pulled back onto the Interstate, my Jeep drove smoothly and I was off. The interstates were clear, the highways were drive-able and when I pulled up to the cabin, I discovered that my friends up here had plowed my drive for me again, knowing I was coming.

How can I ever justify being stingy or cynical? I have received innumerable blessings in my life. I received incredible blessings just today! Buying two packs of cigarettes for a guy doesn't seem like I've done nearly enough to pay it forward.

Christmas Samaritans?

I came home from the cabin on Tuesday because I was worried about the incoming storm.

I didn't go anywhere on Wednesday because I was worried about the incoming storm.

We stayed home on Thursday because I was worried about the incoming storm.

It's Friday - I was pretty much done with being in the house. However, the storm not only had gotten here, it got here with a fury! But, I have a Jeep and I love my Jeep.

Carol called - telling me that someone had dug out her driveway and the alley behind her house. The main road looked clear and if I could get there, we could actually have a little bit of Christmas and maybe some food!

Poor Max. He scooped a path to the Jeep, turned it on to warm it up and then we loaded everything into the car and headed out. (Have I mentioned I love my Jeep? No problem getting out - just a little extra push on the gas to get through the drifts.)

Mini vans stuck in side streets, cars driving too fast, small cars trying to get through the mess in the intersections. All great entertainment for me.

I took the main roads to get to her house and when I turned onto Military, I drove a few blocks and there was a poor, older man stuck in a snowdrift. He'd been walking. He couldn't get himself up and out. I passed him, realized what was going on, looked in my rearview mirror, saw absolutely no one and backed up to see what we could do.

Max got out of the Jeep to see about helping this man up. Well, I don't know what this guy was doing, but he couldn't help Max at all. He acted like so much dead weight. I asked if they needed a 911 call. The guy didn't refuse it, Max was beginning to get worried. The guy kept dragging himself and Max back to the ground. So, I called. Then, a young man pulled up in a pickup and between the two of them, they got the man out of the drift and he took off walking back to his apartment. WEIRD!

Max got back into the Jeep. The guy was on his way to buy cigarettes. Are you freakin' kidding me? Then, it occurred to me. It had to be pretty awful for him to head out in this weather. If he needed cigarettes, he probably needed them and Christmas Day is not about teaching the man a lesson. We pulled up in front of the apartment building (oh, I had called off the rescue workers, telling them I would watch until he got home and ensure that he was really safe), and Max asked the guy what kind of cigarettes he smoked. We'll go buy them for you.

Off we went ... to buy cigarettes ... for a stranger. Walgreens - closed. Sinclair - closed. Bucky's - closed. Sheesh! This is going to take awhile. Finally, Quick Trip was open. In we went. We got food to take to Carol's and two packs of cigarettes. Back to the guy's apartment. Merry Christmas, dude ... enjoy your evening. Please stay inside now.

On our way to Carol's. That really great job of plowing her alley? Two feet of snow in front of it. The city had just come through. Oh, good heavens. There was no way my Jeep was hopping that drift. 1/2 block from her house and we can't get there. Nowhere to park. Nothing we can do. Are you kidding me with this?

Then, a man from the apartment complex next to hers needed to leave. He came out with a shovel and was working through the drift. I pulled up and asked Max to spell him with the shovel (see how this works? I'm the Good Samaritan, Max does the work). Then Carol came out with two more shovels and before we knew it, it was clear again and in we went and off he went to do whatever it was he needed to do.

Laundry and Christmas with Carol and an evening out of the house. With a little bit of hilarity on the side. I mean, who goes on a trek to buy cigarettes for a stranger? Obviously, Diane and Max do.

I'll be out again tomorrow, I guarantee it. I love my Jeep!

Merry Christmas!

Giving and the Grinch!

So far, so good.

Got the car washed. My goodness, it was in bad shape and I even washed it last weekend, well ... Monday! By Wednesday, the storm and driving through the mess had me to the point of holding myself far away from the car so I didn't get dirt all over myself. You know how I love my Jeep - I like to have it looking pretty, too! (I know ... I know)

After that I went to Hy-Vee. I intend to do crazed holiday baking this next week. Everyone else and their daughter, granddaughter, grandmother, mother, and a few male type figures (whom I figure were only there under duress) were purchasing baking necessities today as well. When I walked past, there were only 3 packages left of brown sugar, I had to beg the guy stocking the shelves to find mini marshmallows for me, he was shoving flour on the shelves as quickly as possible and the chocolate chips were nearly gone. All of the shelves were depleted in the baking aisle. He was working as quickly as humanly possible!

I suppose after that crazy week we had and then a Saturday that people could actually move around the city, everyone was desperate to get started on their baking.

As I walked around the store, it felt wonderful to be a part of the excitement. It happens every year about this time, people feel good about what they are doing. Maybe it's the fact that for the most part we are thinking of others. We're buying gifts for someone else, we're baking for family and friends, neighbors and coworkers, we're focused on so many things other than ourselves. And it feels great!

That's the feeling that struck me today as I was watching people interact in the aisles. Oh, they were jammed with carts and boxes/pallets that needed to be stocked in the shelves. People were backing up and getting out of aisles they didn't actually need to be in and trying to avoid running into each other, but there was a sense of camaraderie rather than competitiveness.

It didn't hurt that the Grinch and Cindy Lou Who were moving through the store hugging and greeting customers with big smiles. How in the world do you maintain any kind of attitude other than surprise and glee with that happening around you!

But, today I wasn't in the store because I had to buy groceries for myself. I was there because I had made a list of items I needed to create gifts for others. Every item on that list will be blended to make treats and goodies to serve at a party, to share with neighbors. Nothing will be for myself (except the stuff I snitch as I bake).

Giving it away. That's just the best feeling of all.

Getting old? Yes, but NO WAY!

I've been thinking a lot lately about getting old. When is it too late to make radical changes in your life. At what point do people just think you're nuts? I've been talking to several people my age and older and one of the things that I keep running into is that these people are looking towards the end of their careers (in the short-term) and are no longer thinking about making changes that will excite them, but are just considering the easiest way to sneak out of life.

You see, our parents did that. Retirement was an amazing goal. They looked forward to sitting around, drinking ice tea (or whatever), maybe working on a few projects around the house, traveling to see grandkids, on and on and on. So ... if our parents did that, we should too?

When I was much younger, the people that were my parents age were old! They already acted old. If an older woman wanted to do things that only younger women did, she was called 'feisty!' Blech. I don't want to be feisty, I want to be Diane!

I'm about to make a major change in my life, a change that could take me 30 years to accomplish (well, not the initial change, but the overall goal). I want to be given those 30 years by people who know me and people who meet me. I don't want anyone to expect me to lay down and shrivel up simply because I turn a certain age. It's absolutely going to kill me to watch my friends move toward retirement and then settle into quiet, withdrawn lives because they think that's the thing to do.

Now, I know full well that many of you will take exception to all of this - and YEA!!! Do!! If you are looking forward to retirement, good for you. If you get all weak and feeble on me because you've given up on life, I'm kicking your butt.

This is going to be an interesting time for me. It scares the stuffing out of me that people my age and older quit going for the big, exciting jobs and huge dreams for their future because they think they have to. I don't want anyone to ever look at me and think that I can't do something simply because I'm no longer 25 years old. Now is the best time ever for me to be doing big, exciting things because I finally have the wisdom of the ages behind me (shaddup - all of ya!).

Look - this is what turning 50 does to ya. All of a sudden you get really reflective on life. Right? Right. Sigh ...

Routine? Love it.

I'm a little embarrassed to admit how much a creature of habit I am. The thing is, I love change. Change always means growth to me. It's scary, but it always challenges me. At the same time, though, I find that there are certain things I need to remain stable.

The last two weeks were amazing. I got to see old friends, experience new things, go places I don't consider part of my pattern. It was awesome.

The ten weeks prior to that were amazing. I was in the process of taking online classes and focused my energies on learning and accomplishing goals. Again ... just awesome.

But, this week, knowing that I could settle in ... drag out the Greek textbooks, explore some new educational possibilities, read, etc., and not have to face long travel trips which challenged me or think about how weird my schedule is due to holidays ... just felt wonderful.

When I was working full time, I loved the breaks that holidays brought. So, I watch all of my friends get excited about those days off and I'm glad for them. For me, though, that stuff just upsets my continuity! Maybe it's because I'm getting older and I like things to stay in one place. No, I don't think that's it. (well maybe a little) I'm really working towards upsetting my entire pattern for 'normal.' It's going to happen and I'm going to love it!

Christmas parties, gatherings, celebrations, concerts, holiday events are all coming up and ready to intrude on my 'normal.' I'm going to enjoy them all. But, it's different being in a position where I'm no longer anticipating the break in my routine because my routine stinks. I love my routine right now. I love that I can study and research, write and process. I can hardly wait for the next course of study to begin!

Speaking of that ... I will hopefully be bringing some more of Diane's life-change news to you soon! Just gotta get through the process.