That doesn’t happen much.

In fact, it may never happen again.  I taught on Matthew 2 and gave the girls some fascinating history on the four major world empires that ruled over Palestine until the time of Jesus’ birth as well as mucho-info on the Magi and their prolific influence during each reign.  It was incredibly nerdy.  I know y’all are sorry you weren’t there.   For those who were, I know the wonderful worship music and chocolate fountain made up for it.  I would sit through anything for some good singing and a dipped strawberry.  I thought about sharing the points with you but I cheated off some of Luke’s research so I don’t want to steal his thunder if he decides to use some of the same material here at home.  I can assure you the principles and application will be altogether different because try as he may, the female gender is still a mystery to him. I like to keep it that way.

Saturday brought more joy…for two quarters anyway. For the first time I can remember in months we had an entire day when we didn’t have a single place to be so we had a family SEC Championship/Georgia Bulldog party.  That’s really the only kind of party transplanted Georgians can have in Alabama because I can count on one hand how many other Dawg fans there are in the state.  I’m trying not to be bitter over the loss. Not that anyone expected us to win but the first half we looked like the team I know we can be.  By the fourth quarter I was just begging the Lord to make it stop. It would be very easy to become despondent over all the missed opportunities and ‘if only’s’.  However, in the words of my father-in-law, “If ifs and buts were candy and nuts it’d be Christmas every day.”

And then there’s the whole BCS deal about who gets to play in the National Championship.  Luke just explained to me how two teams from the same conference can end up playing one another.  Now I love my Alabama friends and I’m happy The Tide is playing in the game, but I’m thinking a true national championship needs to be made up of two teams who actually won their own conference and there should be some play off tournament to decide the top two. (Bracing for hate mail.)  Don’t get all worked up on me.  It’s just a thought. Because I know the BCS people are tuning in to see my opinion on the matter.  Especially since I had to ask Luke during the game if the correct term is “in zone” or “end zone”.

It’s time for me to jump off here and watch “Good Luck Charlie” Christmas movie with Sydney for the 32nd time.  The ancient history of the Medes is looking better all the time.

What are y’all up to?

I’ve told y’all many times that there is always something special about each group I have the privilige to serve and this one is no different.  Of all the things I loved about the Fusion girls, I think the discussion time at the very end of the sessions was my all time favorite.  It was so very obvious these women had a deep love for one another, their church, and felt no condemnation in being honest and open about very complicated issues and emotions they were facing.  These girls were profound. (Rhonda, the ‘heart in the bucket’ comment you made will stay with me forever.  There were many others that will as well but I’m afraid I risk oversharing if I am too specific with the things that touched me so.)  They were hysterical.  (From this point forth and forevermore I will refer to a group of wild turkeys as a herd.  And the amazing worship team’s rendition of ‘This is the Stuff’ was nothing short of priceless.  Especially the car.  And the cop. *grin*)

And I can’t get away without praising the accommodations. (IBC girls, this screams Couples Retreat! And yes, I’ll be checking in to that.)   Deer Run is located right outside of Franklin, TN and somehow I accidentally ended up downtown.  Probably because I was so busy looking at the leaves that were in full glory.  Or hoping for a sighting of Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban.  Or Toby Mac.  I hear he lives there but I’m sure he just forgot to give me his address.  Anyway, I immediately called Luke to tell him I must have died on the way because I most certainly was in  heaven.  There were quaint Main Street shops and adorable cafes.  And there was a Pumpkin Festival, for Pete’s Sake!  For a Fall Loving girl like me, I could have been laid to rest right there.  I didn’t get any pictures because I was driving.  My fellow drivers who weren’t as eager for heaven are still thanking me.

Here are a couple of photos I’ve stolen off the Facebooks of my new friends:

The Amazing Dining Table that would not fit in our vehicles.  Not that we tried.

The wood-burning fireplace.  After sitting on this hearth, Cracker Barrel is dead to me.

The Girls.  One of the points of teaching this weekend was my sharing how I had been praying specifically as of late for the Lord to make me sweet.  It’s one thing to act nice – I’ve got that one down pat –  but to be a woman who is authentically sweet in the core of her being is another altogether.  (Does that one get just me or is anyone else resonating with that thought?)  I’ve got a way to go but not this group.  In the purest way, they are shweeeeet.  And adorable.  Just look!

Thank you one more time for taking me in as one of your own.  And for next year, remember the words of the Holy Spirit….”Two Nighter.”   And may I also add, though I do not have a word from the Lord on this, “Invite Lisa.”

And now a question for all of you:  Where is your favorite retreat location?  I’m always on the lookout for a good place for our church and I’m sure many other girls are as well.  You are welcome to leave a link/web address if you’ve written about it on your blog or have the facility’s contact information to share.

p.s.  I’m still giving away a Casting Crown’s “Come to the Well” cd on this post.  Nothing to do but leave a comment and there are only 10 entries so far.  What??   Jump 0ver there and enter!  I’m announcing a winner Tuesday.

Hope you had a great weekend, too!

Since our landscape has changed considerably I decided to try Boonlink one more time just in the off-chance the flattening of our foliage cleared the path for reliable service.  And praise the One who dwells in the High Heavens amidst silver-lined clouds, we got it!  I have internet!  I have internet!  I have internet!

What I still don’t have is a laptop.  I’m borrowing one that belongs to the church so I can work a little this week but the good news there is that I finally ordered a bright, shiny, Georgia Bulldog RED Dell that should be arriving in a couple of weeks.  We don’t even want to discuss how laboriously I wrestled with the Mac vs. Dell option but at the end of the day, I decided to stick with what I know because you know what they say about Old Dogs and their inability to learn New Tricks.

On another note of happiness, I had a fabulous weekend in Pigeon Forge, TN with some of my favorite people in this world.  My MIL plans a bible study retreat every year for her church ladies, my SIL brings a large contingent from hers, and several other friends and family join in the fun.  I also take Sydney with me because it is an excellent chance for us to have an Mom/Daughter getaway and she is more of a help to me than a hindrance.  It is always such a comfort to be among those who love you knowing that if you flat out blow it, they will still love you and not compare you unfavorably to all the awesome teachers they’ve had in years past.  They can’t do that because they’ve never had another teacher and I like it that way just fine.  Because I’m insecure like that.

One of the things we talked about was authenticity where we considered the question, “Are we the Real Deal?”  I normally don’t Tweet while I’m set aside for teaching but I was out shopping with my girl on break and opened it to see what was up with all my imaginary friends.  Beth Moore had quoted Melissa (her daughter) as saying that most of the time what we mean by ‘real’ is something negative. That struck me like a ton of bricks because something very similar was already in my teaching notes for that night and I took it as divine affirmation I was potentially on the right track.

The point I suggested was that if we find ourselves ending sentences with “I’m just saying”, it may be that what we just said wasn’t our just being real, it was our being real mean.  The one who prides herself on ‘telling it like it is” may just need to repent of hatefulness rather than glory in her plain-spokenness.  If we are fully aware that we are abrasive and hurting feelings on a regular basis, it’s not the public-at-large’s responsibility to learn to deal with us and our ‘authenticity’.  Does that mean our criticisms are unfounded? Not always.  But there is a world of difference between speaking truth in love and spewing the truth in hate. As NeedtoBreathe so eloquently states it, “Just cause I’m wrong it don’t make you right.  No you ain’t right.” 

And lest you think I’m pointing a mean finger, I only write these things because I’ve recognized it in my own self.  This *ain’t* always about you.  But if it is, maybe we can work on it together.

I’m just sayin’.

I hope this Monday finds you enjoying the crisp fall breeze that we are enjoying here in North Alabama.  It is a balmy, not as humidified as usual 80 degrees which in my estimation is the absolute perfect temperature.  Not hot enough to bring on a full on sweat and yet not so cold that you are at a loss if you forgot to grab a jacket. 

I hit the ground running today after returning from a fabulous weekend with my new girlfriends from Town East Baptist Church in San Antonio, TX.  I had the great thrill of being bible teacher for their annual retreat which was held at T Bar M Ranch in New Braunfels.  Hands down one of the nicest conference centers ever.  Food was fabulous, rooms and grounds immaculate.  I highly recommend.  The only thing I don’t recommend is texting a friend back home that you are at T Bar M without adding any explanation.  Since Alabamians don’t understand ranch/brand talk, she might think you are at a *bar* and get really concerned about your emotional and spiritual state of being.

I can’t say enough to thank Town East PW, Donna, and her girls for loving on me just like I’d always been one of them.  Donna and I met when I taught the ministry wife sessions at the Jacksonville FBC Pastor’s Conference back in January.  One of the things that hurts my heart the most about itinerant ministry is getting to know women just long enough to want them in your dailiness and then being forced to leave realizing you may not actually lay eyes on them in person again on this side of glory.  Seeing Donna again was a great treat and being a PW myself, I don’t take it lightly that she entrusted her precious girls to me.  That’s a big deal and though it sounds like cliche’ and total cheese, I was and remain honored.  I explained to her that every group I meet shares a lot in common but there is always something that sticks out about each one.  Theirs was the overwhelming gift of generosity.  I ain’t never (hear that in my best Southern twang) seen so many presents and door prizes and thoughtfully selected gifts from Beverly (the organizer) to all the women who supported her in the planning of the event.  I came home with a very special necklace chosen to remind me of the theme of the weekend, a suitcase full of other loot and they are shipping me a beautiful tea set they gifted me that wouldn’t fit in my bags.  I can’t wait to have a bonafide tea party!  Love you girls dearly.  Remember, keep your foot in the bucket! *grin*

In other news, my laptop gave up the ghost.  Apparently the video portion of my motherboard has displayed it’s last.  That means the eloquently crafted post I had written on calling (I can say that now that it will never see the light of day) is now sitting on the server of the computer repair guy until I decide what to do about ordering another. Ironically, that is the first post I’ve typed in Word because I was trying to avoid losing it whilst using a spotty internet connection and I lost the thing anyway.  One thing to which I am not called is technology. It hates me.

What I desperately wanted to communicate on this idea of call was a mini-epiphany I experienced while working like a mad woman on a new book proposal that will be going to my beloved editor this week. (The subject?  Leah: The Buy One, Get One Sister.  More on that later!)  I was particularly discouraged one day because the words weren’t coming like I wanted and I’d pretty well convinced myself that book writing was not a part of what God wanted from me or else it wouldn’t be so stinking hard.  And then a thought came to me:  Calling is 5% inspiration and 95% back-breaking work.  The idea for a book for example is all unicorns and rainbows.  I needed to be reminded the writing of it – the hacking of the words and the deletion and re-writing of the same paragraph fifteen times - will most often find that unicorn exhausted and muddied and crying in the rain by the time the last edits are made.  I have to get comfortable being a dirty unicorn.

(I have no idea where that thought came from.  It wasn’t a part of the original eloquence and no doubt will trigger some very interesting google search results.  For that reason alone, I’m leaving it in.)

On that day,  the one on which God was essentially telling me to suck it up, be strong, and do the dirty work, I got up from the table after typing several hours because it was time to get the kids.  I stood, looked at the book-covered table, and cried like a baby.  Not because it was time to get the kids.  Not because I had wrecked the dining room. But because it fell on me that I’d spent that time doing the thing that brings me so much joy even though I feel like tearing my brain out of my head in the midst of it.

I wonder if you are smack in the middle of something incredibly hard that requires more perseverance than you think you have and wondering if you are really called at all?  Something that was all romance at the beginning but has settled into something not very beautiful?   It could be the call to motherhood:  that swaddled baby is all ribbons and sweet-smelling lotion until it’s screaming at 3 am and pooping on you for added effect.  The call to overcome the diagnosis: “I’m going to beat this thing!” feels possible until the nausea of chemo takes over.  The call to disciple: you can’t wait to get into your Sunday morning bible study curriculum and share God’s word until that first class when everyone is staring at you with a quizzical look in their eyes without adding a word to the discussion.  

 Take heart, my sister unicorns. Calling will make you cry.  If it doesn’t, it may not be a calling at all.

I don’t have the first picture from Choccolocco because I am lame and forgot my camera.  My sweet friend Metha (who used to live in my town) invited me to come be a part of their first ever women’s day called, “I Simply Live for You”.  I was thrilled out of my mind to see Stacy and Charlotte from Ranburne (we are blog friends turned real friends) and also to learn that Debbie, that pastor’s wife, and her husband used to serve in a church in my hometown in Georgia.   Debbie had invited two of her Chattanooga friends and we learned we had several common friends also.  Small world, anyone?

Last week I headed down to Gardendale Baptist to teach at the Minister’s Wives Luncheon that is held during our SBC State Evangelism Conference.  The women’s ministry of Gardendale did the table scapes and I fell in love with the chandeliers hanging over some of the tables they found at Hobby Lobby.  That is how unimaginative I am.  Never thought of decorating a table from the ceiling!   I’m still so mad that I don’t have pictures.  Now I love talking God’s Word to anyone who will pull up a chair and listen, but I don’t think I have to tell you that hanging out with my sister PW’s is my special affection.  I took a new friend along named Courtney.  She is a darling new pastor’s wife from our association who has  two of the cutest little boys ever.  She reminds me so much of me when I was her age –  bless her heart.  And if I had a nickel for every time I said to her, “When I was your age…” I would have a pocket full of nickels.  And then it occured to me that I am old.  Dern.  But it was an altogether great day.  My DOM’s wife, Patricia was also there which made the time even more special.  Love my Alabama girls!!

And then this past weekend, I drove to Athens, AL to be a part of the First UMC annual women’s spring luncheon.  Oh my word, where do I begin.  The pastor’s wife, Sherri, has been a blog friend for some time.  Like I told the girls that day, you can often tell the personality of the church by the personality of their leaders (bless my church’s heart) and I wasn’t wrong this time.  Sherri is a DYNAMO and this luncheon was perhaps one of the most over the top, Christ-centered, well-done, beautifully decorated, meticulously planned and executed events I’ve ever attended.  Worship was led by the group Sister Grace.  They had bongos!  And a tambourine!  And shakers!  And rhythm!  I’m hoping to be a back up tambourine player at some point. Except I have no rhythm. 

I also got to see my girl Dedra Herod (Just a Chick) who drove over and came with her  Athens friend (and now my friend) Angela.  I just love it when my blog friends jump out of my computer and into my real life.  You just can’t have enough sisters.

I do have a few pictures from this one but only because I stole them off Sherri’s Facebook.  You’ve just got to see a couple of these tables.  They were all fabulous so I’m not trying to play favorites, but I’m connected to the internet on my phone right this sec and I’m seriously doubting these pictures are going to load correctly.  Let’s try it.

1.  This floral center piece had a purse, hat, and shoes purchased from a thrift store.  The brilliant designer COVERED THEM IN MOSS. Can you see these are sling back, peep toe wedges?  Have you ever?  I told the ladies I’m going to start covering old stuff in my house with moss if it can make it look this cute. 

2. The tables each had names and this one was called, “This Old Thing?”  Sherri said they needed more tables than anticipated so the girl who put it together truly threw it together last minute.  Her spur-of- the-moment looks better than my planned-for-six-months.   

3.  The church has a knitting ministry and they presented me with a scarf/shawl that is so incredibly soft and warm.  It’s my new favorite thing.  THANK YOU, ladies!  You have no idea how I treasure the time it took you to do this with me in mind!

4.  First UMC has a thriving women’s ministry and I’m so jealous of their merch.  That is a sin by the way.  My jealousy, not the merch.

5. The Dynamo herself, Sherri. Planning this one luncheon would have put me under for 6 months and she had another breakfast event the very next day. She told me she lives from event to event. My reply? That’s because it’s your gift, girlfriend! If it energizes instead of sucking the life out you then you know you’ve found your God-given calling. That doesn’t mean our God gifts don’t make us physically tired but they do recharge our soul. Anyone feeling me on this one?

6.  This table I LOVED.  I don’t have a clear pic but the silver containers were filled with vintage jewelry from the hostesses family collection.  I asked her to please not check my pockets if anything came up missing.

All of you girls, from Choccolocco to Birmingham to Athens, thank you.  You have no idea the part you play in what God is doing in my life.  Romans 1:11-12 speaks my heart clearly,  “I long to see you so that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to make you strong— that is, that you and I may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith.”  I am full.

Praise to God and the sisterhood of faith!

I can’t say enough about my new friend Marilyn who is the director of women’s ministry.  Man, does she love Jesus and the women she serves.  She also must love (or hate) me since she was my live gps when I continued to get myself lost driving around down town. (In a Kia Soul!  You can get with this, or you can get with that!  It’s my new favorite.  I was so sad to turn it back in.  Mostly because it was clean.  And my car, after 8 years and 4 kids is not.)    I also had the privilege of meeting Debbie Brunson (Mac Brunson’s wife).  I am still coveting her shoe collection.  Alabama girls, you would have loved her houndstooth stilettos.  Had lunch with Lauren Chandler and was just blown away by her faith as she upholds her pastor husband as he battles cancer.  I should mention girlfriend can sang.  And play the piano.   Met adorable Alicia who works for the North American Mission Board.  She changed my life by teaching me how to use the navigation app on my phone.  Marilyn wishes she had changed it before having to talk me down every street in Jacksonville. Also got to be a part of a hysterical PW Panel on Saturday.  The best piece of advice we heard that day was from Nancy Sullivan (adored her!) but in the interest of keeping some things sacred and because I’m the biggest prude you will ever meet, I’ll let that remain between us girls who were there.  You can just imagine the topic.

I know I’m leaving out so many wonderful people who were nothing but gracious.  It’s an amazing thing to be behind the scenes at an event like this and see the logistics of what has to happen to pull the thing off.  I’m telling you people, you don’t do all this work unless you really care about the people for whom you are working.  This church loves pastors and their families and I for one can’t thank them enough for the privilege of encouraging our kind. 

So much more to say, but the plane is about to board.  And as you know, I STILL DON’T HAVE INTERNET AT HOME.  And yes, I’m freaking out about it.  Hopefully we’ll be remedying that soon.  I thought I could live but alas, I can not. 

If you attended the conference, please keep in touch with me and remember CONNECT and ENDURE!!

I got to town Friday night and Jan had arranged dinner at Longhorn Steakhouse with all the staff pastors’ wives from her church. I loved all of these girls so much and am so ill with myself for not getting a picture of our whole group. Having such a great time with the P-Dubya’s redeemed Longhorn for me. We broke up a couple of years ago when we ate lunch there for my birthday because we had a nice gift card.  We let the kids order more extravagantly than usual and ended up with an almost $80 bill.  But no problem because we had a nice gift card.  Luke pulled the gift card out of his wallet when it was time to pay and it was to LOGAN’S Steakhouse.  Ooops.  So we didn’t have a nice gift card.  But we did have an $80 bill.  We considered selling one of the children to wash dishes until the debt was paid but then who would wash my dishes when we got home?  So we cried, we paid, and we never ate at Longhorn again.  It was just too painful.  The scars too deep.  Just the mention of Longhorn ripped the scab off the festering wound.  It was way past time for the Lord to bring some healing.  Praise him for using a hot loaf of bread, some Portobello chicken, and a fabulous group of sister ministry wives to bring beauty from ashes. 

But I digress.

Jan was gracious enough to put me in her guest bedroom instead of a hotel and I don’t think I have to tell any of you who know her that her home was an extension of her southern charm. It was set out in the country down an oak-lined driveway and even though it is winter it was obvious by the outdoor spaces that the place will be bursting in bloom in just a few months. It is a special gift to be able to create a house that is not just a home but a respite.

Jan’s gated garden with raised beds.  I accidentally did something weird to this picture in the editor and yet I kind of love the effect.

The patio.  Can’t you just see yourself out here on a warm summer’s day with a glass of sweet tea? 

Jan and me at the brunch.  I’m going to frame this picture to put on my Wall of Love. 

I don’t yet have a Wall of Love but seeing this picture makes me want to start one. 

And this photo will be right next to it.  This is Kristi LaBorg, the Senior PW’s wife.  Loved her so much and we even discovered we have a dear mutual friend.  She turned 40 the Thursday prior to this event.  She gives me hope that 40 is indeed fabulous since I will be hitting that mile marker in a few months. 

Thank you girls for making me feel so special and for the honor of the invitation.  It was wonderful serving you and being in a room full of people who cheered when I mentioned the Georgia Bulldogs. 

And for the record, we celebrated Immanuel above all.  He is God with us – a God who came and more importantly, a God who stays.  Praying the full reality of His presence settles upon us all this Christmas season!

Such needy, needy people. 

But in a rare trifecta of preparedness, supper is in the crock pot, the laundry is going, and my kitchen is clean (can’t speak for the rest of the place) so let’s see if we can catch up with each other for a bit.   Friends, I give you a list:

1.  Harvest Festival: 

The boys are officially beyond dressing up but Sydney (yes, I told you her name.  I’m kind of over being all secretive) decided that after years of being everything from a lady bug to a bride that she wanted to be a hobo this year. 

Thankfully that wasn’t a hard outfit to come up with seeing as how the child vacillates between dressing like JLo and, well, a hobo. 

She showed me the clothes she wanted to wear and told me she needed a cardboard sign to hang around her neck that said, “Will Work For Food”.  I was very concerned about her outfit primarily because I didn’t want anyone to think we were making fun of the homeless.  I knew she was thinking of the rail-riding hobo who carried a stick with a bandanna tied to the end but the signage just wasn’t working for me.  So, I started googling to find out what an authentic hobo sign would have said.  Ridiculous, I know.  It’s a sickness.

This is where I should warn you that if you are easily fascinated by sub-cultures do not google ‘hobo signs’.  I was online for an hour learning how a hobo left special markings at rail stops and outside people’s home to let fellow travelers know the best places to get a meal and what they would need to do to get it i.e., work for food, engage in Christian talk, etc.  All of that work and would you like to know the sign I finally made?  ‘Will Work For Food.”  It was authentic, y’all.   

With all that said, I’m sitting at the kitchen table making the sign.  Sam (Boy Three) had no clue what Syd was dressing as.  He walked up to me, looked down at the sign, and with the most devastated look on his face asked, “Mom, are we poor?!?” 

I said, “Yes, Sam.  Yes, we are.”  I let him off the hook with a quick explanation and he was so relieved to find out his mother wouldn’t be standing at the 4-way intersection begging for dinner. As if I weren’t embarrassing enough.

But then do you want to know what happened?  We went to our church’s Trunk or Treat and The Meanest Deacon Alive said, “Wow, way to go Preacher’s Wife.  Making fun of the homeless.” 

Had I not done extensive research, I would have been mortified. As it was, I chuckled knowingly and forgave him his idiocy. He had no idea he was in the presence of historically accurate costuming.

{Syd minus her stick and bandanna bundle which she used to carry around her favorite stuffed animal:}

{And I couldn’t resist including this picture of Brooke as a Sumo Wrestler. Yes, people. She teaches your children. }

2.  The House

In the words of Tom Petty, ‘the waiting is the hardest part.”  We are so close, and yet so far from being finished.  Those last details are maddening and yet, you know where they say God is.  And do you know that is so true?  God is in the details because trust me when I say the tiniest things have been the ones that have tested every bit of my religion.  At then end of the day, we are blessed and we don’t deserve such a wonderful refuge so if you catch me being fussy and/or impatient, just smack me.   Or not.  I prefer not.  Just wink at me and I’ll know I’m busted.

{Here’s a sneak peak:}

3.  And My Favorite….. Friendly Community Baptist in North Carolina!

This past weekend I flew to Wilmington to teach for the darlin’ women at Friendly Community Baptist.  Isn’t that the greatest name for a church? 

I met Kelly (Friendly’s PW) at the airport and we then met Rose-Marie (women’s ministry director) at a swank restaurant downtown called Aubriana’s.  Oh.my.heavens.  Crab cakes?  Yes, please.  They were delicious.  Would you like some Creme Broulee’?  But of course.  I ate more food that night than I’ve eaten in a month and I’m not sorry about it one little bit.   

The conference was the next day.  My new friend Pam picked me up at the hotel and even bought me a Sun Drop.  I’ve determined I need one of those before I teach from this point forward.  Extreme caffeination seems to work for me.  I can not say enough how friendly Friendly is and how much I loved being a part of this special day where they unveiled their newly expanded women’s ministry:  G.L.O.W. – God’s Ladies of Worship.  Love it!  Thank you, girls, for a trip to remember!

{Kelly, Rose-Marie and me.}

Pam took me back to the airport and we did a little shopping on the way home.  I am obsessed with White House/Black Market.  If anyone feels so compelled, I’ll take this in Medium.  Thank you.

4. Oh, and one more cool thing:  I got to sit next to a real live NASA rocket scientist on my flight back to Huntsville. (Unfortunately, I didn’t take his picture.)  He had been to Florida for the launch that didn’t happen.  Wonderfully pleasant guy who didn’t even chuckle knowingly when I asked him dumb space questions like, “So is there really a secret space ship being built so we can colonize Mars”?  (He dodged my question.  That’s what I thought.) For the record, I rarely speak to people on planes because I don’t want to be “that woman that wouldn’t shut up when all I wanted to do was sleep.”  But this guy started the convo so too bad for him.  I now have some rocket scientist sub-culture research to add to my hobo knowledge. 

So that’s just a little of what I’ve been up to. What about you? What’s one activity that has dominated your week?  Talk to me girls..I’ve missed you!

Or it was for the time being anyway.

So Sunday night I slept comfortably (the bedding at the hotel was divine and a king-sized bed to myself warrants a ‘hallelujah’) but I dreamed hard.  In this particular nightmare I had decided to step into the hallway in my pj’s (why?) and subsequently locked myself out of my room. I knew my ride would pick me up at 8:45 and so I dashed to the front desk to get another key.  That would have been fine except the hallway did that thing in horror movies where they get longer and longer the harder you run.  Every time I finally arrived at the end I would be lost as to which way to go next. After an extended ordeal I finally made it to the desk, went through the same horrifying journey on the way back to the room realizing all the while I only had about 5 minutes left to shower and get ready.  I can’t change my mind in 5 minutes much less blow dry my ridiculously fussy hair so panic doesn’t cover it.   I got to my door, swiped the card, and red light.  Dern desk clerk has given me the wrong key so I dashed off again to do it all over. By the time I was back in my room and presentable it was about noon and I was suddenly mortified that the program had started hours before while Iwas busy running around the hotel in my Georgia Bulldog t-shirt and flannel pants.  (Can I just insert a congratulations here to my boy Mark Richt who is coaching the life back into my laboring team?) 

Imagine my relief when the wake up call came and I opened my eyes to find it was only 5:45 a.m. I had washed my hair and straightened it really well on Sunday before I left thinking I wouldn’t have to wash it Monday morning to save time but dude, I was wringing wet. All that running in my sleep ruined all my flat-ironed hair!  Blast! And that was about the only thought I had time to think before a text message from one of our teens at church came through that just said, “Hey, are y’all okay??”

Consider this with me:  It’s 5:45 a.m.  It’s a teenager.  Awake.  Asking if we are okay. That can never be good. I didn’t even answer her before I called and without taking the time to say hello asked Luke – a tad frantically – “WHY AM I GETTING A MESSAGE ASKING IF WE ARE OKAY? WHAT IS WRONG?”

“Now, honey, don’t panic…”

(Not the response I was hoping for.)

“..but we’ve had a tornado.”

I started bawling immediately.  I’m horrified of tornadoes.  As in I have an unhealthy phobia of them.  When the babies were little and we were under tornado warning I used to belt them to me so if we flew away we wouldn’t be separated.  I wish I were making that up.  So to think a tornado had swept over my family and I wasn’t even there to be neurotic with them was my undoing. 

Luke assured me over and over the family was okay, that our fences and some trees were down around the house but according to the officer he had already spoken to, there were no reports of serious injury.  And get this, Luke said, “I wasn’t going to call you because I didn’t want you to worry before you had to teach.”   Because no one else in my town has a cell phone and if he didn’t call me surely no one else would.  I would have been sarcastic about it if his intent weren’t so perfectly selfless and sweet. 

It’s important at this point to note the passage the Lord gave me to teach the precious Arkansas girls. He and I get to know one another in themes so it seems and this season has been about His assurances of protection over my family as that relates to ministry and life in general. Psalm 57:1 has been particularly dear to me and was never more relevant than it was as Luke described having my babies in the bathtub with his arms wrapped around them as the tornado appeared to have literally jumped over our home: “Have mercy on me, Oh God, have mercy on me. In the shadow of your wings I will find my refuge until these storms pass by.” I’m confident the wording I just quoted to you is a blend of about four different Bible translations but the application is the same:  Whether we are being protected from unseen calamities taking place in the heavenlies or the heavenlies are crashing down upon our heads, our life is bound up in Christ’s.  The worse thing that could have possibly happened that day would have been for my family to have been delivered safely home.  With that said, I’m far more comforted that God chose to spare me that unspeakable horror but I also praise Him knowing my suffering and longing would have a marked end. 

And yes, I’m bawling again.

I shared much of this with the women at the conference and frankly, I was afraid I would be too discombobulated to make one lick of sense.  I think those darlin’ women comforted me much more than I ever could have comforted them.  If any of you are reading, thank you.  For your forbearance and for being a part of this wonderful sisterhood we call Ministry Wives.  You get me.  I get you.  Spending time with you fed my soul and I won’t soon get over it.

Here are a few photos:

Me and the literal Sisters Abby and Julie (I adore these girls so much!) eating our delicious O’Charley’s on the way to the airport. My food was just so great. I am always famished after I teach and everything tasted like it was made for my mouth that day.  I was also thrilled to meet Abby’s darlin’ baby boy Henry.  That child looks like the Gerber baby and I just don’t say that about anybody.  And can I mention he let me hold him straightaway?  He smelled Boy Mom.  I don’t know if I should say that about myself?  

The field house at the football stadium. Which is behind my house I should add:

That press box used to be on top of those bleachers:

The concrete bleachers = rubble.

What’s the score?   Tornado 1 – Scoreboard 0

Feedstore across the road from our house:

Our back fence:

We were also under tornado warnings for a good part of the day Tuesday. Deedra snapped this photo outside her house. Luke took one of the same cloud but his isn’t nearly as freaky. Smoke Monster from LOST anyone?

I can’t say enough about the importance of Code Red – an emergency notification system that will call your home when dangerous weather is heading toward your area.  Even though our home wasn’t hit, because of this phone call Luke had all the children out of bed and as protected as they could be where otherwise they would have been sleeping in different parts of the house.  If you haven’t yet enrolled and are local, visit www.dekalbcountyal.us and follow the instructions.  It’s free!

Okay, I’m done.

You’re welcome.

(p.s.  Football field photo credits:  Times-Journal)

I mentioned I went to Granbury, Texas this past weekend to teach a retreat the Lakeside Girls had themed Audience of One. To say the Lord messed me up over this one would be an understatement but in order to explain fully, I’ll need to back up a bit.

My church’s annual retreat was 2 weekends ago. I taught from James 1 which we all know is not for the faint of heart but I knew beyond all doubt that was supposed to be my text. Those of you who know me well understand I’m not one to blame the devil for every failure – I can fail just fine on my own thank you – but never in all my time of teaching have I ever felt so oppressed or dark or unable to communicate the thoughts that were on the paper right in front of me. I’ll never know on this side of heaven what war was being waged but in an inexcusable nutshell, I blew it.

My disappointment in myself was overwhelming. I have an undying affection for my church girls and we always have such a great time together. I never feel I can do enough to return what they do for me so this weekend is my token of love to them. I want to be sure their time is as fulfilling as it can be from the accommodations to the food to the Word. It’s important to me for my favorite people to feel they’ve really heard from God and had some fun in the process. I don’t know about them, but for me personally I normally leave exhausted but exhilirated. That make sense?  This time I just left exhausted and defeated because I felt I’d let them down.  All I wanted to do was go home and quit and buy a retreat in a box for next year. (Still considering that, actually.)

That said, before The Major Fail, I fully expected to float right out of that conference and into the next. And the next was huge to me, too. The group of women I was going to serve had entrusted their first ever women’s conference to me. As if that weren’t enough, the queen of my iPod and our church cd player, Nicol Sponberg (Selah!), was going to be leading worship. But no pressure, really.

On the way home, between sobs, I said to the Lord, “If there was ever a weekend I needed to go in on a high, it’s this one.”  You want to know what He said?  “Child, if there is ever a weekend when I needed you to go in on a low, it’s this one.”

You see, I was to teach on the Redemption and Ransom of God.  Pure love stuff, y’all, straight from Isaiah 43:1-4.  What I realized is that it has been some time since my heart has really been broken and that I’ve sensed His flat out, extravagant, scandalous love toward me.  I’ve come to know that God allowed whatever was going on the previous weekend to be a set up for what He wanted to work in me for the next.  I told the Texas girls that perhaps the Lord knew my home girls would forgive me for stinking it up whereas they would not. 

I can’t even begin to describe the past couple of weeks with my God.  He has been so tender and has met me on the pages of His Word every single day to the point of being ridiculous.  There are many things I could share but I have to tell you this one story.

Driving home from my church retreat, in the midst of all the snot-slinging, as clearly as I’ve ever felt the Lord speak to me He told me to fast Diet Dr. Pepper.  “Are you kidding me?” I asked.  He wasn’t.  “How long, Oh Lord?” I cried.  “I’ll let you know”, He said.   End of conversation.  So, I laid down that most wonderful tonic and straight away went into detox tremors.   

During that following week (the one prior to leaving for Texas), every time I jones’d for a Dr. P I would cry to Him to give me strength and fill me in a different way.  And He did.  Praise Him, He did.  I’ve never been aware of Him so much as I was during that time, so much so that I’d begun to think that maybe it’d be okay if He just took them away forever.

Here’s the cool part though.  I met up with my wonderful hostesses, Nell and Lou, at the airport.  I was staying in Nell’s home so while at lunch she asked what I liked to drink.  I said, “Diet Dr. Pepper” without explaining my fast.  She then explained to me that she had been to the grocery store without an idea in the world what I liked and when her eyes settled on the Diet Dr. Pepper a voice said, “She is a Diet Dr. Pepper girl”.  I just have one word for you: 

RELEASED!

He said He would let me know and that was my sign, girlfriends.  But let me tell you the craziest thing.  I have drank a few since then but in a way I can not explain, even though they are still delicious they are not nearly as satisfying.  Once you’ve tasted the Living Water it’s hard to go back to aspartame and formaldehyde.  Amen?

Here are a few pictures from Granbury:

A bunch of crazy people.  It’s always sad for me to leave a group knowing I may never see the women I bonded so quickly with again.  Will y’all come see me in Alabama so we can laugh some more?

Precious Kathy! Her husband is the Children’s Pastor at Lakeside. If we all had 1/10th of Kathy’s energy Red Bull would go out of business. Love you, girl!

Y’all, this woman. I really prayed I wouldn’t act like a goober when I met Nicol but she is so amazingly humble and unassuming you couldn’t get starstruck if you tried. She and hubby Greg were so fun and ministering alongside them is a gift I won’t ever forget. They shared about losing their sweet 10-week-old son, Luke, to SIDS and Christ’s strength through their brokenness was something to behold.

Doing her thing. Effortlessly and beautifully. And would y’all check out that stage? Lakeside Girls have decorating skillz.

Heidi, me, Nicol, and Gina. Heidi was the mastermind behind the graphic design. Amazing! Gina is the Sr. PW at Lakeside. I want to raid her closet. She’s over the top in all the good ways.  And will y’all please tell Nicol and me that our legs look long?  We were trying not to look stubby scrunched up on the steps. 

So, it took all that to say thank you Lakeside Girls.  You ministered to me more than I ever could have you.  The same thanks goes to my home girls.  You are my safe place and ones whom I know will overlook my flakiness and faults.