Monthly Archives: April 2008
New Giveaway at CCBR!
Hey, folks! My other site, Christian Children’s Book Review, is hosting a new giveaway this week.
We’ve got five autographed copies of Karma Wilson’s newest book: Let’s Make a Joyful Noise. It’s a gorgeous book illustrated by Amy June Bates. The best part, though, is it’s solid Scriptural foundation. The text is based on Psalm 100.
To enter just visit the site each day this week and leave a comment on the appropriate post. Winners will be chosen at random. Drop me a line if you have any questions.
Heard over dinner last night …
Ellie: Why are there screws in chairs?
Daddy: They hold the chairs together.
Ellie: So the squirrels won’t eat them?
Daddy: Squirrels? What squirrels?
Ellie: The squirrels that eat the chairs.
Daddy: No. There are no squirrels. They’re screws. They’re two different things.
Ellie (clearly losing her patience): Daddy. I SAID why are there SCREWS in the CHAIRS.
Daddy: To hold the chairs together.
Ellie: So the squirrels won’t eat them.
Daddy: What squirrels? Ellie, I don’t know what –
Ellie (with a little, condescending laugh): It’s okay, Daddy. It’s a tough question.
Celebrities
Today is garbage day. It creates some heavy excitement in this house. Zach, like most two-year-old boys, LOVES trucks. He can hear the garbage truck coming from around the block. He runs through the house screaming and jumping: “Truck coming, Mama!! Truck coming! C’mon. C’mon, Mama. Let’s go see garbage truck!!”
In my lifetime I have only known one person who aspired to be a garbage man. It was my stepbrother, Kevin. He was seven at the time and thought it would be super-cool to ride around on a big truck all day. We all made fun of him and teased him about his smelly, trash dreams. The rest of us (the remaining seven siblings) had bigger, better dreams. We were going to be important! We would not be serving the neighborhood from the back of a big green truck. People would look up to us, not smell us.
Now, many years later, I see the garbage men as celebrities. They know our house and generously wave at the little faces eager to watch them work. It’s so funny! They’re always smiling. The kids greet them everyday with hefty “HI!”s and “Have a good day!!” They’ve even got paparazzi on occassion. I don’t know … maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be a garbage man. At first appearances, it may seem like a bum rap, but from another perspective, it’s what kids look forward to all week long. These service guys are treated like rock stars.
Do you know any rock stars in disguise? Any service projects or ministries you view with a condescending eye? I wonder who holds those same servants in esteem?
Perspective
Anyone facebook? I do. It’s addictive. But it’s also very cool. I’ve run into a ton of people from my past. A couple weeks ago I connected with a friend from college. We had a great time catching up. She sent me a link to her website. I didn’t have time to look at it immediately, but did the next day or so.
The day I visited her site was much like today. I complained about my kids all day long: their disobedience, superficial dependence, whining, clinging, talking, eating, everything! I was a miserable person and self-righteous in my indignance. Then I visited Jennifer’s site. I was extremely humbled.
You gotta check it out: Ethan
Be sure to click on “Ethan’s Story” and the link to Jen’s published writing. Ethan was born more than three months premature and was given a number of diagnoses before, finally, autism. Jen’s faith and grace overwhelm me. She has raised this handsome boy with a pure love, a spirit as magnetic as when we met in college. I’m so thankful for her example. I’m thankful for her story and the perspective it gives me. I encourage you to visit her site. You’ll be challenged, encouraged and maybe even gain some healthy perspective, as I certainly have.
Photo by Jen Bailey.
Odd Jobs
HighCalling Blogs is hosting a meme about odd jobs and what you’ve learned from them. I opted out because I didn’t think I’ve had any unusual employments. Sure, I’ve worked in fast food, factories and office administration, but those jobs hardly qualify as unusual. It’s not like standing around for hours in the name of science or doing anything that requires a gas mask. I’ve never been paid to sift through garbage or sniff flatulence. So, I decided to skip this group writing activity. But then Heather tagged me, so now I don’t have a choice.
Here are the rules:
1. Write a post about some strange job you’ve had and what you learned from it.
2. Link to other “Lessons from Odd Jobs” posts around the highcallingblogs.com network, or quote them in your post with proper attribution. This isn’t a requirement, but it’s a fun way to get people moving around the network and reading each other.
3. Tag your post “lessons from odd jobs”—if you use technorati tags or another form of meta-tags.
4. Tag other bloggers by linking to them in your post and inviting them to participate in the meme. Tag as many people as you like—we’re not limiting this just to people in the network!
5. Link back to Lessons from Odd Jobs in your post and email this month’s host at “Marcus AT highcallingblogs DOT com”.
The trick to this meme is defining “odd.” Is it rare or just unusual? I’ve had two unusual jobs that taught me much the same thing. Millions of people around the world have one or both of these jobs, so they’re not rare titles, but they are unusual.
Being a missionary is definitely odd. First of all, you have to work your tail off to raise the money you’ll work to receive later when you finally get to the field. Once you get there, the schedule is largely unpredictable and often dictated by others. As a missionary in Bosnia, I spent two weeks doing construction of playground equipment, one week distributing food, at least two weeks distributing clothes and school supplies, three weeks teaching English at random times, and the rest of my time trying to navigate the local government and the UNHCR without endangering myself or my hosts. My “work” consisted of drinking coffee (very STRONG Turkish coffee), trying to absorb a language (without a translator), being transported in tanks by French soldiers … oh, and working with two Korean women (one of whom did not speak English) to lay the foundations for a church in an extremely Muslim region. While in French-speaking Switzerland I worked alongside “American” boarding schools with students from Japan, China, Greece, Africa, Germany and the Russian mafia. What languages did I study in school? Um, Spanish and Hebrew. No one spoke those. Nor was anyone fluent in American Sign Language.
The job of “stay-at-home mom” is just as difficult to pin down. At least most of us speak English in this house. Although, my kids are learning Spanish and Mandarin Chinese from TV. (Where was Ni Hao, Kai-Lan when I went to Switzerland?) The schedule, however, is just as crazy. I think I’m in control, but with two constant interrupters, I am often at the mercy of their moods and needs. Being a mother is definitely weird. My perpetual age is somewhere between 19 and 25, so that may contribute to my perception. Or maybe it’s just that I never imagined this being my full-time job. Or maybe it’s because this is the only job where statements like “Take that out of your nose.” and “We don’t hang things from penises.” are perfectly in context and frequently repeated. I spent an entire week working with my daughter’s pronunciation of one word. Unfortunately, my efforts accomplished little, so we forced her to say “Happy Easter” instead of “Happy ‘erection Day.” (Now, if she would just stop singing the “Shake, Rattle and Roll” resurrection song.) And what other occupation requires one to do a happy dance with each successful bowel movement?
So, what have I learned from these odd jobs? God is in everything. He’s all around us. He wants to be with us and talk to us; delight in us and challenge us. It doesn’t matter where you are, what language you speak or how mundane your tasks may seem, God is there waiting for you to meet with Him. Sitting under a canopy of grapes next to a bullet-riddled home, drinking the thickest coffee in the world, I learned to listen. I listened to the hurting hearts around the table (which was little more than a crate). I listened to their stories, their dreams, and in listening to them, I heard God. He showed me how to help them, how to serve Him and how to see me. The same thing happens when I listen to my kids. They have taught me so much about myself and the relationship God desires to have with His children. It’s amazing what we hear when we ditch the schedule and just listen.
All right, now it’s your turn. What have you learned from your oddest jobs? I’m required to tag someone, so Dale, Beverly and Karen — You’re IT.
Random Thoughts
I’m quite behind on nearly everything. I’ve got business projects, personal projects, family projects and writing projects, all of which are miserably behind schedule. And yet, fully aware, I wasted an hour this afternoon playing a game. I read a quote recently (unfortunately I don’t remember who said it) asserting that time wasted but enjoyed is never really wasted. So maybe my sixty minutes of blithe vegetation weren’t such a bad thing after all.
This weekend my brother called me a writer. This may not sound like a big deal, but it made me feel great. He acknowledged me. He lent credit to what I do — or at least what I’m learning to do; what I aspire to do. (By the way, another quote I caught over the weekend, Picasso claimed one pillar of an exciting life is to challenge yourself. He said “I am always doing that which I cannot do, in order that I may learn how to do it.”) This is the first time anyone in my family, other than my mother, has done this. I’m pretty psyched as a result. We strive to place our value in Christ, but sometimes it’s really nice to have the approval of others as well, if for no more reason than confirmation or encouragement.
There are too many books in the world. As I writer I should flog myself for saying as much. Here is my problem: There is no possible way for anyone to read every book in their lifetime. There are too many choices! I would happily lock myself in a library … Hmm. Actually it would have to be a fully-stocked, yet uninhabited bookstore — well, uninhabited except for the barrista — because, frankly, I much prefer the smell of new books to old ones, Barnes and Noble over the local (germ-infested, poorly-lit) public library. Anywho, give me an unlimited supply of books and a comfy chair and I’ll be happy for the rest of my days. But then I wouldn’t accomplish much else – would I? So, how do I choose which gems I shall read and which will have to be left for someone else to enjoy? A question with no answer.
I finished reading a book yesterday, The Thirteenth Tale. Because it was a book about authors and book-lovers, it referenced several classic works, many of which I’ve read, but also many I haven’t. Now these volumes have been added to my to-read list which already overflows with titles beckoning.
Speaking of books, do you ever absorb the characters of the novels you read? Books are written to make us think and feel, but is it possible to become too emotionally involved? I live vicariously through whatever I am currently reading. It can be a little disturbing. How do I turn it off? This weekend I was lost in mourning over a twin I never had; melancholy with dreams I never imagined. Does transference occur between characters and readers? Why do I struggle so to separate fiction from reality? At least this book did not provoke me to prayer over the heroine’s plight.
Herein lie my random thoughts for the day. I have a number of posts in the coming, so stay tuned. Heather tagged me with a meme which I hope to complete tomorrow. In the meantime, be well and know I prayed for you today.
Parenting Panic
It was “healthy bodies week” at Ellie’s preschool. They talked about what’s good for you and what’s not. Exercise, brushing your teeth, cheese, yogurt, fruit and vegetables: all good. Candy, ice cream and fast food: not good. In the midst of this discussion my daughter raises her hand and stands to speak. “We eat Burger King ALL THE TIME. I am SO SICK of Burger King French fries! When my mom gets here I’m going to tell her.”
Well, her teachers thought this was hysterical. They beat Ellie to me with the story. My response? In a panic I blurted out “We don’t eat there all the time! Why would she say that?!” I spent the drive home wondering if I should have explained more. It is, after all, the only place with a drive-thru and Zach-friendly foods …
Me thinks the lady doth protest too much. No, we don’t eat at Burger King all the time, but who cares if we do? Why am I so afraid of what other people think?
Since becoming a school mom, I’ve discovered how paranoid I can be. I am constantly worried they’ll think I’m a bad mom or they’ll misinterpret Ellie’s precocious statements and turn me into child protection services. I worry I’ll lose my kids, my reputation, my life.
For the first time, I am entrusting my child into the care of others on a regular basis. This is more than Sunday School or babysitting. This is handing her over and trusting those “others” to teach her the right things. And still it’s more than that. I’m trusting myself to these others as well. I’m believing these people who I barely know want to help me raise and train this child God has given me.
The Lost fan in me continues to protest: Never trust an Other. Scripture reminds me I must.
“Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.” • Proverbs 3:5 (NIV)
Rick and I prayed long and hard about where to send Ellie to school. By not trusting her teachers, at least a little; by not trusting our choice of school, I’m not trusting God. I’m not following His lead, but instead trusting in my own understanding. Depending on my paranoia to be accurate and my defenses strong enough.
God wants us to trust HIM, not ourselves. Sometimes trusting Him means trusting others. I need to relax knowing Ellie’s teachers delight in her as much as I do. I need to calm down and stop freaking out every time talk to me or ask me a question. They are not out to get me. I need to trust God and rest in the knowledge of His sovereignty.
As parents we tend to think everything is a big deal. Are they walking at the right time? Are they getting enough sleep? Why aren’t they following the model given in the book? Do I need to call a speech therapist? What we forget is that our God, the Source of all knowledge and power, is in charge of every detail. How big do they look when sitting in the palm of His hand?







