Report to Carousel

If you're sad about something, you may want to hold off on reading this post, or at least get a Wipeout episode revved up and ready to view.

Anybody remember that movie called "Logan's Run"? It was a sci-fi type flick that channel five aired once a year back in the day before DVD players (or even VCRs).

I may not have the story completely correct, but basically, the people of Earth had created an indoor Utopia. I think there had been a war or some cataclysmic event that had destroyed life outdoors. Anyway, a weird thing about this new society was that once a citizen reached the age of about 30, they heard their name called over the intercom system and they were ordered to "Report to Carousel".

Sounds nice, right? Pick a slow moving horse on the merry go round and relax for a few minutes as you gently move in circles.

Wrong!

"Carousel" was this big, round room equipped with lasers. Those who were "reporting to Carousel" arrived having donned these weird white uniforms. They would situate themselves around the Carousel's perimeter while the rest of the people (those who had not been ordered to report to Carousel) filled the audience bleachers to watch. When everyone was ready, Carousel would slowly begin to spin, the 30 and up crowd would float up into the air and one by one they'd get zapped (and thus obliterated) until they had all disappeared.

Creepy stuff (even if I did get a few of the details wrong).

Logan was this one guy who heard his name called and he decided he wasn't going to cooperate with his annihilators. He ran off (with a beautiful woman, of course) and thus the movie was entitled "Logan's Run".

I remember being about Delaney's age and asking my dad, "Why are they zapping all those people?"

He informed me that that society didn't value people once they reached a certain age and that they were looked at as burdens, so for "the good of everyone", they were disposed of.

That totally freaked me out. I mean, at that time 30 did seem pretty ancient to me, but still...

I think what disturbed me the most was that the people willingly reported to Carousel and the others came to watch the mass murder like it was some sporting event.

And my point is...

It horrified my little-girl-mind that these people weren't valuing each other or even themselves.

Now, we can watch that movie and call it ridiculous, but by observing actual human nature, it really isn't that far fetched.

I just finished Elie Weisel's Nobel Peace Prize winning book, Night. It's his real life story about living in concentration camps and barely surviving. To say the story is horrendous is the understatement of a lifetime. Ultimately, what it's about is the negligence to value human lives and even beyond that to sadistically enjoy doing so.

The sick things described really happened. Reporting to Carousel genuinely seems like a very pleasant alternative.

A more recent example...

The other day, I read a news article about this famous "adult entertainer" who was the spokesperson for some foundation that was dedicated to educating women. Curious, I read on. Well, she was educating women that they should always require their sexual partners to use condoms. She said that a lot of women are afraid to do so.

WHAT?

Women are giving away their bodies (and arguably bits of their souls) and they're afraid to have parameters in regards to the process? Where are the boundaries in our society? Sick...

It's all a part of not valuing each other or ourselves.

So what about me...

Okay, so my examples thus far are pretty far removed from my day to day experience, but am I successfully valuing others as I ought?

My efforts to do so are pretty pathetic.

Yes, we sponsor a few kids through Compassion and yes, we are attempting to teach our kids good manners and values, and yes, we buy meals for any homeless person who approaches us, but what about everything else that I could be doing?

By American standards, my kids both needed braces very badly.


(Sorry about that, just illustrating my point!)

Straightening one's teeth is more than just for vanity's sake. There are benefits for oral hygiene and even digestive health, but how drastic of an improvement is made in either of these areas?

Braces cost about $4,000 per kid. If I'd given that money to a specified organization, they probably could have dug a well for an entire village in some African country or fed the entire village for a year.

Still, I handed it over to an orthodontist and said, "Straighten my kid's teeth."

You can call me overly dramatic, but it's clear to me that I just deprived an entire village of a much needed well.

Living in middle class America is like living in a carefully tended bubble where the temperatures of our homes are just right, the food is so abundant that a bunch of it rots in our fridges, the entertainment is constant, there are effective medicines for headaches, kids can get a decent education for free, a truck comes by every Tuesday to collect our trash, etc., etc., etc. It's every day life for us, but it's a veritable dreamland for the vast majority of the actual world.

I like taking vacations. I want my kids to have those memories with us and see the sights, but how many truckloads of medicine could I have bought sick people with the money I spent on our fabulous trip to Oregon?

I like fixing Jeff a juicy steak instead of serving him beans and rice after a hard day's work, but think of all the beans and rice I could buy for starving people if I limited our own grocery budget.

I like spending money on haircuts, but think of all the Bibles I could send to China in one year if I let my locks just grow.

Welcome to the inside of my head.

I can't talk myself out of these convictions...and yet how much do I actually do about them?

This whole post is somewhat rhetorical (although I'd love to hear whatever any of you have to say). For years I've struggled with these haunting thoughts of entitlement and lack of generosity.

I still remember being about 10 and seeing the distended bellies of starving Ethiopian children on TV. I sent about 8 dollars to the relief fund which was a huge chunk of my piggy bank's contents, but I knew it wasn't enough. Nor was it all that I had.

How many of my actions (or inactions) will I regret when I report to Carousel?

(Sorry if you needed a pick-me-up. This probably wasn't it.)

The 73 Hour Ministry

Ahhh...I'm home.

Thank you to those of you who prayed for me. My time at Junior Camp with my eight girls was really wonderful. All of them were delightful young women and the biggest disciplinary issues I had to deal with were catching them eating candy in the cabin and whispering when they should have been either listening or going to sleep. They're all still up there in the mountains. (I had planned all along to come home one night early. My friend, Katrina, replaced me so I could spend a little time with Jeff before he left for a men's retreat this weekend.) I'm very thankful to announce that I slept quite well all three nights.

I slathered those 10, 11, and 12 year olds with tons of sunblock. No one was getting burnt on my watch. It got to where they'd freeze in place and stick out their cute little noses when they saw me coming with what they called "the Glue Stick" in my hand.

I knew they had accepted me into their tribe when we were playing "Telephone" and one of the sentences that went around the circle was "Aimee has big toes." Alas, 'tis true...At least they didn't say anything about my nose since that's harder to hide.

I pray that they understood the Biblical teaching. The main reasons for the camp were to help them know God and scripture better. It's a fearful thing to teach the Bible. You're basically speaking on God's behalf and that's about as serious of a part as one can play. Prayerfully the goals were accomplished.

I'll miss those girls. I'm glad I get to bring my favorite one home.

I won't post any pictures of the little darlings. Their parents' permission would be needed to post photos of children on a blog that has an audience as vast as this one has. (I'm very suspicious of one of the four of you.)

Guess who's 38...uh, 37!

Yes, that's right: Jeff is 37. (He thought he already was 37 and was turning 38, but after I did the math for a second time, it was confirmed that he's a year younger than he thought.)

He said that for his birthday, he wanted to watch Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) fights on TV while eating a Baskin Robbins ice cream cake. I told him that I could work with that. It's nice to know that you're giving someone something that they actually want for their birthday. (I still get teased for buying him a badminton set nearly 15 years ago. I happen to like badminton.)

So, we trekked over to his parents' house for some chicken, potato salad, cake and testosterone-charged entertainment. I didn't expect to enjoy watching UFC fights, but it's actually quite amazing. Those guys are so talented and tough. God brought forth a fascinating creature when he put "Man" together. It's amazing how these guys will spend several minutes practically trying to kill each other and then they'll hug each other all sweaty and bleeding after the final bell rings.

PLEASE PRAY FOR ME!!!

This next week I'm going to be the "cabin-mom" for 8 girls at our fellowship's summer camp for 4th, 5th and 6th graders. The reason why I had the idea to volunteer in the first place was because I was nervous about Delaney losing her retainer at camp. I thought, "I don't want to put pressure on the cabin-mom to make sure D's retainer is safe because she's going to have 7 other girls to look after with all their various needs." Then it occurred to me...Maybe they still need someone to volunteer to be the cabin-mom...and that is how my service came about. It's funny how God can use our fears to get us into fulfilling a need.

Delaney loved the idea and I know that's not likely to be the case for much longer, so I need to take advantage of that while I can.

Anyway, please pray that God will help me to lead and love those girls with wisdom and patience and that I will be able to sleep well. (I often have a hard time sleeping in my own bed, let alone on some lumpy mattress surrounded by giggling girls.) If I can't sleep, then I won't be able to be a good "mom" to all my girls.

Thanks!

Got Hurt?

I've been thinking a lot lately about humans' potential to hurt each other.

Recently, I ran into a woman whom I haven't seen for years and years. Apparently, she felt pretty hurt by members of the Church in the past ten years or so and no longer even considers herself a part of the Church. She says she still believes in Jesus, but won't call herself a Christian. I don't know who is on her "list of hurters" (maybe I'm on it!), so I have no context by which to evaluate the authenticity of her grievances. However, I don't think that should be the point. When we hear about Christians doing un-Christ-like things, don't we automatically either assume that they aren't being represented fairly OR assume that they're just lousy Christians? It's one extreme or the other, but it probably shouldn't be. There are most likely sins on both sides of the conflict.

I'm a human fraught with faults and weaknesses and skewed perceptions. I'm far too sensitive and I'm ALWAYS thinking about myself. I'm a mess and I'm constantly dealing with other people who are messes as well. There have been a number of times that I've been tempted to withdraw from social groups because I was tired of feeling hurt on a regular basis. I'm not suggesting that withdrawal is never a good option, but we need to think rationally and pray things through, asking God to show us if we're making decisions based on our feelings or if they're actually wise decisions.

There are relational problems wherever there are relationships. It's more obvious out in the World, but we're liars if we say things are perfect in the Church. Congregants get mad at each other as do top leaders in ministries.

I don't like to make claims that I can't substantiate on the spot, so I'll inform you ahead of time that I don't have actual statistics for the following statement, (although I heard it from what I deem a credible source)-- Most missionaries who return early from the field due to relational problems didn't have the problems with the non-believers to whom they were ministering, but rather they had the problems with the other missionaries alongside whom they were ministering. I know there are A LOT of people who work very well together, but there are also a lot who really don't.

What is the standard by which we determine who is in the right and who is in the wrong? We all have varying codes of conduct. I may think of myself as being direct, but someone else labels me as rude. I might find someone's attempt at humor tasteless, but they think they're downright hilarious. Perhaps my attempt at being compassionate is perceived as blatant condescension. I think it's incredibly important to remember this when we find ourselves feeling hurt. When things aren't clear, assume the best in others. "Love is not provoked". (1 Cor. 13:5)

Of course, actual wrongdoing does occur. Jesus tells us how to deal with this in Matthew 18:15-17.

Once, I was tired of the frustrations I felt in a certain social group and after much prayer and even some fasting, I decided to curtail my interaction with the group. I knew that 1 Cor. 9:7 said, " ... let each one give as he purposes in his heart, not grudgingly or of necessity, for God loves a cheerful giver." My prevailing thought as I made the decision to limit my involvement with the group was, "I'm not a cheerful giver of my time, energy and resources to that group. I'm tired of feeling constantly like I'm in sin because of my frustration and the encroaching bitterness that seems ever ready to take hold of me." Of course, there are situations to which this logic doesn't apply. Many relationships can't be just cut off because we're frustrated with them (like with one's children!). That decision was a difficult one to make but I had peace in it because of the clear directive in the aforementioned scripture.

It's so sad that humans just can't seem to get along.

And yet, it simply reminds us of our need to look to God to be our sufficiency--not a ministry, not a leader, not a peer group. I think that's why cults can be so successful. They claim that their specific group will meet one's needs and wants completely. Some people want that claim to be true so badly that they'll give up virtually everything to obtain the hollow promise of completion.

Even people in the Church can be guilty of this. If I claim that my group is the group, then my focus is going to be on the group instead of God and disappointment is inevitable. It's just another form of idolatry.

Oh, by the way...I'm desperately trying not to be hurt by the fact that only one person I memed responded by actually spilling 7 facts about themselves! (Thank you, Andrea :) Okay, so maybe I'm not deeply hurt, but I am a little disappointed. :( All I wanted were a few random facts about my friends...sigh

I've Been Memed!

April memed me. Apparently that means that she has chosen me to record here on my blog 7 fairly unknown facts about me. I really enjoyed the random things she wrote about herself, so if you want to read them, just go to the comment section of my last post and click on the blue "April says" and then click on where it says "Learning". That will take you to her blog.

So the other "rules" of meming are that you have to post these rules, record your 7 weird and or unknown facts about yourself on your own blog, "tag" others at the end of your post and alert your newly memed friends by e-mail or leaving a comment on their blog.

Here we go:

1. I hate all-you-can-eat-buffets. I have some pretty strong convictions, two of which collide head-on at buffets. A) I am a firm believer in getting as much for my money as I can. I mean, why not (as long as it's legal and moral)? B) I'm disturbed by the tendency toward gluttony that I see in myself and others. A and B can not coexist peacefully in my heart and mind, especially while I'm munching on my fourth chicken strip.

2. When I was about 15 years old, my mom bought me a pair of Guess overalls. I liked the overalls themselves, but I immediately went about cutting off any trace that showed that they were Guess brand. Why? I'm not sure how to put it into words, but I know it's genetic because Delaney told me about a year ago that she would no longer wear the hand-me-down Roxy shirts that she got from her cousin. Her explanation was, "Popular girls wear Roxy shirts, Mom, and I don't want to be popular." As funny as that sounded coming out of a nine-year-old's mouth, I did understand. (I hope the social rebelliousness of myself and my daughter hasn't offended any of you Guess or Roxy fashionistas.)

3. Do I dare include this next one? It's really embarassing, but it's pretty funny so here goes...my first real kiss was a very stressful experience. You see, before I handed a lot of money over to an electrolysist and allowed her to torture my upper lip (until tears ran down my face), I had enough hair there to make 14 year old boys envious. Anyway, my date with a boy whom we shall refer to as Nick (not his real name) took place before my date with the electrolysist. We were out in the bright sunlight on a walk in the wilderness near my childhood home. He leaned forward to kiss me which was absolutely thrilling to a 14-year-old-me, but all I could think was, "Does he wonder if he's actually kissing a dude?"

4. Daily I read a British newspaper online. What can I say? I'm an anglophile. If I'm really comfortable in your presence, then I might lapse into a fake British accent, unless you're British yourself, of course, because then you'd know how poorly done my accent is.

5. A bit of vanity...I really enjoy having green eyes. It doesn't seem like a lot of people have genuinely green eyes, so I feel unusual. I don't, however, enjoy the crow's feet that surround my eyes, nor care much for the nose between my eyes.



6. One of the most common topics of my poems is death. (No, I don't paint my fingernails black.) I'm not morbid, simply realistic. I find it fascinating that we are all granted these bodies and live on earth for varying lengths of time during different time periods on various continents with our own set of circumstances. Here's my latest one:

Each soul untethered exits life
Through diverse means to death--
Each moment moves the masses on
To a conclusive breath--
The sundry ways to oust a ghost
One can't enumerate
For there's no dearth of death on Earth-
With which all consummate

Through drownings, riots, crashing cars
Are new cadavers born--
In horrid wars, vitalities
From mortals' shells are torn--
By leaden slugs a soul's dislodged-
By cancer crowded out--
By lack of air, a spirit's loosed-
By thirst unslaked from drought--
Through malformations in the womb
Such little ghosts are made
While entropy undoes the old
Who sometimes simply fade

A life may jar out with a jolt
From trauma bluntly dealt--
The coups de grace of lucky ones
Are quick and never felt--
Extremes of heat create a husk-
Conversely, so can cold--
Many lonesome deaths play out
With details left untold--
A painless passage can occur-
A pleasant ferry ride-
More often, though, the shucking shocks
The one whom Life denied

The unwrapped essences of us
The Judgment Hall will fill
Since each physique's fragility
Defies the fiercest will--
And once the lease is not renewed-
One ceases to infest
Their corporeal figure here--

We're all a body's guest

July 19, 2008

7. I never vomited even once in my life until I was pregnant. In fact, the first time it happened, I had no idea what was going on. I felt kind of gross and I started salivating like mad. I leaned over the bathroom sink to spit out the excess spit and...voila! It happened. I looked and thought, "Is that my breakfast? Hey, I think I just threw up!"

Okay, so now I pick those to be memed by me. Eenie meenie minie mo...I tag Kindra (before JoAnna gets a chance to do so), Leann, FrankandLela, Raymond (although he's a bit busy trekking across the African frontier right now), KorenandConor, Micky and Andrea (although I don't think she has a blog, so she'll have to be a good sport and commit her meming on the comment section of my blog). Actually, I'm really into this, so if any of you want to be memed then consider yourself memed and let me know where to read your answers.

Beach Day

Believing that a childhood without a few trips to the beach each year is indeed a very sad thing, Jeff finagled his schedule so that we could ensure the happiness and well-roundedness of our children's summer.

On the way there, the kids entertained each other in the backseat by drawing pictures of vomiting cartoon characters. (Ahh, yes...just another day in our car.)

Once we got there and found an $8.00 parking spot, Jeff declared the first order of business was to find a place that sells frozen bananas. (Apparently a good childhood has to have a couple of those thrown in, too.) As we went off on our search, I was surprised at the food offered in such close proximity to the beach. There were tons of places selling corn dogs, buckets of fries, pizza, frozen cheesecake on a stick, etc. Apparently the people eating this stuff weren't the same ones who were traipsing around in bikinis just 100 yards away. Maybe the "eaters" just ride the carousel all day. $9.75 later (for three bananas!!) and the kids and Jeff were enjoying their frozen treats.

It was finally time to go to the actual beach, so we loaded ourselves up like a bunch of pack-mules and trudged out onto the sand. On the way, somebody accidentally dumped the contents out of the mini cooler. (It was the same unnamed person who dumped the cooler out onto my seat in our rental car on vacation. Perhaps it's time to rearrange the list of who performs which duty, hmmm?)

As we approached the shore line, I heard a loud boom like a bomb going off. It took me a second to realize it was simply a wave crashing. Those waves were massive!!! I barely resisted the urge to call out "Tsumani!" a few times. Keep in mind while looking at the below picture that Tobias is 5' 7" tall and that wave is way over his head.

Tobias' swimming trunks (or momentary lack of swimming trunks) was another memorable moment caused by the waves' ferocity. I guess his railish frame doesn't give the elastic waistband much to grab on to. There are disadvantages to being skinny!

A few times, these surprising herds of Junior Lifeguards jogged past us in their red swimsuits. There were about 50 to a pack and they looked like they were ages 9-12. One guy in front was carrying a paper torch high above his head. Who wants that job? Poor kid had to run past a bunch of well-muscled surfer-types and bikini-clad college girls while lifting a fake paper torch like it's some vital beacon, guiding the masses behind him. Other than that, it looked like a pretty good program.

Jeff and the kids did usual beach stuff for the next three hours. You know, like digging in the sand, dodging killer waves and jogging junior lifeguards. I, however, sat beneath our blue beach umbrella (which Jeff declared to be the most "ghetto" umbrella on the beach due to its partially collapsed stature). A sun-worshiper I am not.

When we were "beached-out", we packed up and went in search of a sit-down pizza place. The pizza was quite good but the music over the speakers was awful. I think they were playing an album called "Were these ever really hits of the 70s?". When the best song you hear in a whole hour is "Mississippi Queen", that's saying something. The chorus of one song was something like, "Captain Jack is gonna get you high tonight." Uh...no thanks.

However, another redeeming feature of this pizza joint was that we got to watch pros doing BMX tricks on the plasma screen. In fact, with the beach, the pizza and the BMX tricks, Jeff declared it a nearly perfect day.

He is Able, More than Able, to Accomplish What Concerns Me Today

Ahhh...it's over.

A few months ago, I was asked to consider being the snack coordinator for our fellowship's Summer Bible Blast (aka Vacation Bible School). I confess that my first inclination was to pass that endeavor on to some other lucky person, but as I was praying about it, I realized that the only reason I didn't want to do it was because I didn't want to be bothered and that's not a good reason to not serve God and others. I had the time, the resources and through prayer I could obtain the knowhow, so why not? There should be an element of sacrifice to our worship and this was a way that I could give of myself, so...I accepted.

I'm happy that I did.

There were a few moments here and there when I felt a sense of panic rising from somewhere deep within me and I thought, "What was I thinking when I took this on?!?!?" but each time, I just told myself, "God has always proven Himself faithful to you before. Keep doing your best and watch Him work out everything else."

Months of planning, five days of serving and 1500 snacks later and once again, He proved Himself.

I was blessed with a wonderful crew of people who stocked drinks, baked cookies, filled dixie cups of trail mix, etc. TONS of food donations came in from the congregation so we were actually able to stay under the budget allotted to the snack department. The closest thing we had to a crisis was when one little girl declared that she didn't like SpongeBob popsicles, so yeah...it went pretty smoothly!

Now it's over and I can focus on finding people to come over and fix our roof and bathroom...fun.

Just because posts are much better with a picture, here's one I took of the kids yesterday. Delaney's determined to get contacts soon, so she left her glasses off. Don't look at the dead part of the lawn in the background, okay?

Ageing and Slapstick

Alright, I shall spare you all the sight of my foot and move on to other things...

Recently, the orthodontist gave me some pictures of Tobias which were taken when his treatment started and then again when it was over. Be astonished with me if you will at the sight of my son:



Can you believe that these pictures were taken less than three years apart? In the upper pictures, Tobias was 10 years and 7 months and in the lower ones he was 13 years and 3 months. Man, you get some hormones coursing through their veins and little boys are vaulted into manhood. (Well, perhaps "manhood" is a stretch, but still, he looks so much older and it's not just the length of his hair; look at his features!)

Base Humor

I've heard it said that puns are the lowest form of verbal humor. Well, if that is true, then slapstick must be the most base form of physical humor. What happens on ABC's "Wipeout" may not be classified as slapstick by the broadcasters, but if you've seen it then you'll understand why I have called it such.

It's one of those things that you laugh at but feel a bit guilty about doing so. How can those contestants still be healthy at the end of their time on the obstacle course? They eat it hard, right and left. Maybe there is a chiropractor on site to perform immediate adjustments.

All I've got to say is, those people must really need the money to subject themselves to that kind of physical danger and public humiliation. Jeff said he'd like to do it just for the challenge. I told him that I like his face and teeth (and the rest of his body) just as they are now.

The Agony of De"foot"

'Twas not enough 'tis size 9 wide

(All decency demands it hide)...

To plantar fasciitis prone

(As is its poor afflicted clone)...

It's biggest pig baits all to stare

(And marvel at its girth unfair)...

The coarsened skin across its sole

Well imitates the hide of troll...

One more misfortune I report...

Alas, a newly sprouted WART.

The Big Secret Revealed!

Remember what I was super excited about a few posts back??? Well, we vacated and now we're back and I can tell you all about it since it's no longer a surprise for my family.

(For those of you who don't know...our summer vacation tradition is that I plan it all out each year and no one else in the family has any idea where we're going nor what we're doing.)

Well, this year, we went to...

We climbed into the car Saturday afternoon and I told Jeff to drive to the airport. I'm so mean! They of course all thought that we were going to be getting on a plane. Wrong! We rented a car. And what a car it was!

This Mercury Mariner is likely the nicest car we will ever spend a whole week in. However, it was not the car I wanted since we would be driving 1600 miles and it only got 17 miles per gallon!!! Two months in advance I had reserved a car that got 33 mpg, but that car wasn't available. (What are reservations for exactly? Hmm?) So the car company gave us a free upgrade. Ha! Free my foot!

Alas, what could we do? I signed on the dotted line and we were on our way. It was a very nice automobile, complete with cruise control (which Jeff praised a number of times over the course of the trip) and leather seats (which sure came in handy when someone-who-shall-remain- nameless accidentally dumped a whole cooler full of water onto my seat).

Saturday was spent simply driving. I warned them all that we wouldn't be having any fun whatsoever until Sunday.

Sunday, we drove the Avenue of the Giants which is absolutely beautiful. We spent that night in Eureka.

Monday morning we left for Crescent City. On our way, we stopped at Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park. That is one of the loveliest places I've ever had the joy of walking through. I know it sounds ridiculous, but that area makes Yosemite look positively plain. The lush foliage is everywhere and it is breathtaking. I kept expecting to see a group of fairies fly out of the ferns or down from the mossy tree limbs above. It honestly didn't seem real. The pictures don't do it justice.


We spotted nine banana slugs on our hiking trail.These delightfully slimy looking creatures could be seen inching across the trail or curled up on fern leaves.


We continued on to Crescent City. There's an aquarium there with eels, fish, sea lions and a shark petting pool. Doesn't the little white seal look like she's smiling?


There's also a wonderful beach on which the surf has deposited huge piles of little pebbles. We plopped ourselves down and sifted through, looking for agates. We all found some and other beautiful stones besides.


It was a rather chilly day but we persevered for at least an hour, sifting and searching. It was kind of like sitting in a huge ball-pit (you know like the ball-pits that kids sink into at the play yards at Mc Donald's) and rather therapeutic. It was so exciting when you actually spotted an agate. (They're the somewhat transparent ones with the swirly-feathery patterns in them.)

On Tuesday morning we headed for Oregon. The beauty never stopped.


We toured the Oregon Caves and found what looked like alien spawn deep within the earth.



We ended up in Ashland where we saw "A Comedy of Errors" at the yearly Shakespeare Festival. It had a Wild West theme. Originally we had tickets to see "A Mid-Summer Night's Dream" but a lady at the box office told me it was a rather risque version so I prudently switched the tickets out for the more innocuous play. The theater was packed out and the company did a great job of presenting the comedy...even the kids enjoyed it.

We spent a second day in Ashland, wanting to take a break from the long drives. It's such a beautiful town. The kids found a snake as we strolled through Lithia Park. Here's Tobias and his new-found friend:


Thursday, we drove up to Crater Lake. There was still a grip of snow on the ground and unfortunately, the northern entrance was going to be opening the next day. (I had planned on exiting that way to get to Eugene, so that added another 45 minutes to our drive.)

By late afternoon, we were in Eugene, getting lost amongst all of the one-way streets with which Oregon is plagued. Then, one of the nicest of my planned surprises took place. We got to see our friends Shawn and Erin. They are a couple of incredibly talented people who are also fun to hang out with. If you want to hear their very original and awesome music, check them out on Myspace under the band name "Moher". Here they are with their dog, Guinness:



Ever seen a nutria? Here's one now:



Apparently they are "wannabe-beavers" and they roam free in public parks in Eugene. They're cuter than opossums!

Friday, we continued north on the I-5. Near Salem we took a side road to one of my newly declared favorite places on earth--Silver Falls State Park. It was quite a convoluted drive to get there but so worth it. We took about a four mile hike through more of that gorgeous greenery, but we had the added bonus of multiple waterfalls. It was nearly a perfect afternoon. The shady hike wasn't too rough and around nearly every corner was the reward of a stunning sight such as...



Can you see the people walking in the horizontal crevice behind the waterfall? That's how huge the fall is.

The hike was a bit muddy as you can see:



We barely found our way back to the 5 and continued on to Portland where we got stuck in rush hour traffic. (I guess arriving around 5 pm in a major city on a Friday wasn't the best plan.)

Call me asinine, but knowing that we were so close to a whole other state gave me the idea to plan our dinner that night for a restaurant in Washington just so we could say we went there. So, we hopped over the Columbia and feasted.



The next morning we set out to find Portlandia--an amazing copper statue that I read about online and wanted to see with my own eyes. She's really huge, kneeling on top of a building and reaching over the side.



After that, we reveled in the final excursion of our trip.We took a jet boat tour 20 miles up the Willamette to Willamette Falls in Oregon City.




Our boat's pilot took great joy in drenching us all with his 360 turns and sudden veers.



It was fun and beautiful, even a bit educational (shh, don't tell the kids.)

When it was all over, we made our way to Portland's airport, returned our rental and flew home where our own car was waiting for us. This was Delaney's first flight ever and she was quite excited about it.


When it was all over, we asked her how she liked it.

"Well, I was expecting it to be more like a roller coaster," she said.

(Thank God it wasn't!)

All in all, this was a fabulous trip and I recommend that anyone who has never been to Northern California and Oregon should go there as soon as possible. The beauty is astonishing. Jeff and I would actually like to move there though the practicality of that is quite questionable. We can dream, can't we?

Our Double Digit Diva

Wake up, Delaney. You're 10 years old!

Elementary School Musical 2

Delaney's stint as "Saloon Girl #1" is over. We're hoping that is the closest she'll ever get to singing in an actual bar. :)

Her whole class did great putting on the musical. I was so proud of Delaney because when it came time for her little solo, she stepped right up to the mic and sang out loudly.

We assembled her outfit out of dress-up clothes that she already owns. One funny thing was that out of about 10 "saloon girls", Delaney was the only one who wasn't wearing black and red. I didn't get that memo! So there she was on stage, decked out in purple and pink, surrounded by a whole gaggle of black and reddies.

I asked her later if she felt embarrassed about that.

She just smiled and said, "Nope. This way, I stood out more."

(Oh, boy...a shrinking violet, she is not.)

Apparent Myth #2

Okay, I've been putting this off for a long time because I fear that my writing abilities will fail me as I attempt to put this mental wispiness into words.

Please know that the following is not in any way meant to shame or chastise anyone. I only mean to exhort believers (myself included) to be wary.

Here goes...oh, man, I don't even know how to word it, um, okay...apparent myth #2: A genuine believer in Christ doesn't take God's Name in vain.

By "taking God's Name in vain", I don't mean shrieking, "Oh my God!" when you see your friend's brand new car. Rather, I mean attributing messages or causes to God that do not have their origin in Him.

Now, instead of launching into a lengthy diatribe, I shall tell a tale whence the appearance of this myth hath sprung.

Years ago, we knew a young woman who had just become a Christian. (I'll call her Chrissy.) A couple of months after she began to trust in Jesus, she told me that God had told her to stop going to the college she was then attending and to start attending a different college nearby.

Intrigued that this new believer felt she was so clearly discerning God's voice, I asked her how God had conveyed that message to her.

"He just told me," she said. "It was totally obvious."

To tell you the truth, I felt a bit jealous. I'd been a believer for years at that point and had continuously sought God's clear direction in multiple situations, and although I could regularly see His blessings in those situations, I didn't recall having experienced anything of which I could honestly say, "God told me."

Well, Chrissy enrolled at the new college and before her first semester was over, she announced that God had now told her to go to yet another college. You probably see what's coming so I'll just cut to the chase: over the next couple of years, Chrissy never finished a course of study at any college, she went on a mission from which she returned early and she held a number of jobs for just a couple of months each and all of this was supposedly due to God's direction. Each time that she would announce the new turn her focus was taking, she would hold the "God told me" banner up high for all to see.

I understand that God's ways are not man's ways and that we shouldn't put God in a box, yet if one was to watch Chrissy's life, one was likely to think one of two things: either Chrissy was wrong about God's directives OR God was one confused fellow.

I bring this up today because I see similar (though perhaps not as drastic) instances of this regularly. People at times give God credit for things that I'm not sure He wants credit for. People often say that God told them to do something that might have simply been one honorable option among many.

Yes, yes, yes, God can do whatever He wants, including telling His people various and multiple messages in regards to anything. I simply think we need to be very careful what we attribute to Him, not throwing His name around like a logo or a stamp of approval.

Even if a "false prophet" has the best of intentions, (s)he is still prophesying falsely. I won't bother speculating on the reasons why we take God's Name in vain in this manner, but the results can be that God looks bad to others and God can become highly displeased because of our own careless words. The Old Testament is full of God's declarations against those who said He had said things that He had never said.

Instead of saying, "God told me..." or "God wants me to...", why not say, "I think God may be directing me to..." or "It seems as if God wants me to...". That way, if I end up being obviously wrong, then I haven't besmirched God in the process.

Stress in Discernment:

Recently, a woman told me that God had told her to do something. I wasn't trying to challenge her, but my curiosity spurred me to ask her straight out, "How did He tell you?" If He truly had told her, then it seemed her answer would be a ready one which she would be excited to share with me.

She seemed a bit uncomfortable with my query, but responded that He told her by telling her. (Yeah, I didn't quite get it either.) I didn't want to upset her, so I didn't push the question and I simply listened as she went on to detail the rest of her situation.

A bit later on in the conversation, she exhorted me in my own life with, "Well, Aimee, if God tells you to do something then you need to do it!"

Uh...yeah, but the question becomes, how do I know if God is in fact telling me to do something?

I know that I am to care for orphans and widows. I know that I am to pay taxes. I know that I am not to steal. I know that I am not to gossip. These things are all made perfectly clear in Scripture.

However, much of my day to day life is made up of activities for which there are no clear directives in Scripture.

I used to stress about this, thinking (for example), "God needs to tell me if I should plan our trip to San Diego or to Morro Bay!" I'd seek direction in this and receive no obvious directives. Our lives would be altered in various ways through either trip, so why didn't God make it clear so we'd experience the alterations He wanted?

It greatly relieved my mind when I heard, "Love God with all your heart and do whatever you want." I love this little phrase that some may consider trite.

We can bring a lot of stress on ourselves trying to figure out what God's will is for whatever situation we are facing. When we do this, our focus turns inward: What am I doing wrong that's keeping me from hearing God's voice? Am I in some sin that is stopping my ears? I must be doing something wrong because I'm not getting any clear answers.

God is to be our focus, not ourselves nor even our own ability to figure things out.

Yes, I pray for guidance in whatever I seek to do, but if the way is not made clear (which it very often is not) then I can do whatever honorable option seems the wisest and best and not worry about it! God promises to liberally give us wisdom when we ask for it (James 1:5). What is wisdom? Webster's says, "insight, good sense, judgment". Wisdom is His promise to us, not a big, blinking, florescent, arrow-shaped sign that will obviously point out the "right" option. (Remember: Love God and do what you want!)

I could ramble on a bit more (and after I post this, I'll probably want to rewrite the whole thing), but God's telling me that it's time to stop. (Just kidding.)

I'd really love to hear whatever any of you have to say about this, even if you think I've got it wrong--just please use Scripture to prove your points if you're adamant about them. I know that some of you have had to make some much bigger decisions than I ever have and therefore have more experience in discerning God's will. Just remember, though, that I didn't say He doesn't tell us things, I simply said we need to be very careful about proclaiming that He has done so out of respect for Him.

Would You Like Some Drama With Your Drama?

Is it any surprise that Tobias likes mermaids?

Gilligan???

After spending about 8 weeks with the same group of people, working for hours on making "The Little Mermaid" a successful production, I realize once again that any time you get a bunch of people together, there will be politics and contention.

I've gotten rather good at playing Swedish. 1) When a person from one camp starts to gossip to me about someone in the other camp, I simply smile and change the subject. Perhaps I'm getting a reputation of being a poor conversationalist, but such is the price I pay for keeping my ears clean. 2) If I happen to overhear something that others would find either particularly enthralling or upsetting, I flush it down the mental toilet, never to be seen again. 3) My favorite ploy (which I have yet to use in this specific environment) is to tell person A that person B said something nice about them. (Unfortunately, I have yet to hear persons A or B say anything positive about the other, but if they do so in a moment of dizzying magnanimity, I'll be sure to immediately pass it on.)

Hmmm...anyway, on to the musical itself...

Opening night was last Thursday and it actually went quite well. I was a bit nervous during those last couple of days before it opened because some of the kids still had a ways to go with learning their lines. Somehow, it all got pulled together.

This little sea horse doesn't look ill.

A few of the kids got sick. Delaney was actually throwing up into the toilet at the theater just one hour before the show started. She was determined to go through with her part, though. I didn't really want her to for fear that she might unload again on stage (some guy with a video camera in the front row might have become $10 K richer via AFV), but she was so determined that I felt unjustified in telling her no. (Besides, I don't think there was anything else left in her poor little tummy.) I thought it was just nervousness, but then I found out that several other kids had it, too.

So, now the kids have four performances under their belt and they've got 6 more to look forward to.

SOMETHING SUPER EXCITING!!!

Okay, for those of you who don't know...every year, I plan our family summer vacation and surprise Jeff and the kids. They know when we're going, but they don't know where, how, who we'll see, or what we'll do.

Well, our trip is just around the corner and I think they're all really going to be surprised (in a good way!) this year. I've already skillfully planted some seeds in their heads that will soon germinate into joyful understanding as they vacation and look back on the last month or so.

Sorry, but I can not disclose any of the gorgeous details about our trip for obvious reasons. Don't worry, I'll be posting about it all post-vacation to the point that I just might bore you to tears...

The Joys of Home-Ownership

This isn't likely to be pictured in "Homes and Land":



Nor is this:

Nor this:

The above are all the things we presently need to fix on our home. We are very grateful for our house, but the benefits to renting become obvious when one is faced with images such as these.
Let's just say that the government's economic stimulus package came at a great time although even more stimulation may be necessary to accomplish all the goals we have.

One nice thing about our place is the cherry tree out front. This year we have more cherries ripening on it than I've ever noticed before. Unfortunately, this is also the year that a swarm of bees decided to choose our tree as its most recent resort location for a bee convention. This is enough to strike terror in the heart of any epi-pen user:


Apparently, bees swarm like this while scouts are out looking for a good place to build a hive. Vector Control informed me that they'll move on in a few days. Let's hope it happens before all the gorgeous ruby fruits shrivel up and drop onto the lawn below.

I'm so thankful that Delaney didn't have an unfriendly encounter with these guys. One of her favorite things to do in our yard is climb up in that tree and read a book or pick cherries if there are any.

The testosterone coursing through Tobias' body overrode his brain last night. My normally intelligent son asked, "Can I put on sweats and go shoot it with my pellet gun?" Usually, I try to be a kind mother, choosing words carefully so as to not bruise any budding ego, but to this request I answered, "That's about the stupidest plan you've ever had. " I then went on to explain what a horrific and swollen experience he'd likely have if he put his plan into action.

(Incidentally, when I was about 5, a neighbor boy threw a rock at a wasp nest when I was walking by. Guess who got stung and who didn't get stung...I'm still bitter.)

It was a good thing that Jeff wasn't at home at the time, because when he arrived home and I showed him the swarm, his first words were, "I want to shoot it with my paintball gun!"

What is it with you testosterone bearers???

He was only joking. (Sort of.)

I had to mow the lawn today and I decided that the grass directly under the cherry tree looked rather charming longer than the rest of the lawn. I realized this when two bees started circling me and the mower and continued to do so even as I moved away from the tree. I think that was Apiarian for "Back off, human!" Which I did.

Below you'll see one of God's gentler creatures:

This lovely little fellow is a horned lizard. Here he is, on our swing in the front yard. Despite his thorny looking appearance, he is actually very calm and rather sweet (in a grumpy looking way). No, he's not our pet, but we all enjoyed picking him up and examining him up close before we let him continue on his way out in the wild.

The Mental Complexities of Grocery Shopping

I finally did it!

It seems that the gals at the deli counter at my local supermarket often don't hear me when I ask for a half of a pound of whatever lunch meat I'm wanting to purchase. About half of the time they slice up a whole pound, throw it in a bag and pass it across the counter to me while asking if I want anything else. Usually, I meekly accept the extra half pound of unwanted meat and stumble away, nursing the beginnings of an identity crisis: Am I a kind-hearted soul who doesn't want to draw attention to the glaring negligence of a supermarket worker OR am I merely a coward who needs to figure out what casserole I'm going to toss the excess meat into to justify it's existence in my cart? Well, we all know the answer to that question, but moving right along...

...today, I finally did it! When "Maggie" asked what I wanted, I very clearly enunciated each syllable as I stated, "I'd like a half of a pound of Virginia Ham, please." This statement was followed by a sincere smile (probably a smile of friendliness in her mind, but really a smile of hopefulness in mine). Well, you guessed it, a mere moment later I saw her heaving a foot high pile of pink slices on to the scale.

Apparently, all the years of keeping mum and spending money on meat that I had no intention of feeding my family finally came to a head.

"Oh, I just wanted half a pound," I blurted out.

"Oh, sorry," Maggie replied, skimming the top half of the pile off and tossing it aside. "Would you like anything else?"

Yes, it was that easy! And as pathetic as it sounds, I'm planning on doing it again next week, uh, I mean next time it happens.

On the heels of this minor victory, I continued my exercise in commerce over in the produce section where yet another test of my character awaited me.

I approached the bags of grapes with caution, barely resisting the urge to glance around to see who might witness my possible breach in propriety.

You see, I hate buying a whole big bag of grapes without tasting one because sometimes they are quite tasteless and who wants to discover that in their own kitchen, $4.00 poorer? Why not sample one in an air-conditioned oasis while bad music spills out of the speakers above, possibly saving yourself from a pointless purchase?

However, the angel on my shoulder asked, "Would you sample an apple in the same manner? What about an orange?" Of course, the answer was No.

So there I stood, staring at the bags of little purple orbs, willing my taste buds to somehow sense the delectability of the fruits without actually doing their intended job.

Sometimes I buy some and sometimes I don't. Today I did, but I have yet to try them. This story is not to be continued.

On another note...

The musical rehearsals that have taken over our lives are going well. Tobias makes a great sailor and Delaney is a lovely seahorse. If any of you want to come see it, let me know and I'll tell you the show times and ticket prices.

...AND...Jeff's leg has pretty much healed, though I believe it is scarred for life.

Now For Something Pleasant...

A few days ago, Delaney had her phase 1 braces removed.

In a mere forty minute orthodontist appointment, she went from being this cutie-pie...



...to this cutie-pie.



How do you like the retainer she picked out? (Nope, it doesn't taste like watermelon, too.)