The Closest I'll Get To A Sermon

It just doesn't FEEL like Christmas. This is what I keep saying to people. I'm not sure exactly what I'm wanting to feel. For starters, the 70 degree weather we had at the beginning of this week was no help. There is something wrong with running the air conditioner in my car while Christmas lights twinkle on my neighbors' bushes. And then we had a wreck. I was taking Sydney to the dentist when we were rammed by two young guys in an old, beat up car, neither of whom had car insurance OR driver's licenses. "Merry Christmas," I grumbled to myself.

"Mama, it was just an accident, wasn't it?" Sydney asked.

"Bah humbug!" I thought to myself.

I AM thankful that Sydney and I were okay. Mark came to our rescue. The guys were begging me not to call the police so I figured I'd let him come down and "deal with them."

We switched cars and I rushed Syd on to the dentist because, when given the chance to reschedule, I had retorted "oh no, we're getting SOMETHING out of this trip. I didn't take my daughter out of school just to go have a wreck!" We raced from the dentist back to school to pick up Sydney's friend and hurry on to McDonald's to meet some more little girls. My head was throbbing and my body was starting to feel sore. To be honest, I was still pretty irritated by the whole thing.

And then I talked to Mark. Mark let the guys go. He didn't call the police. Turns out they were in town from Michigan doing some construction work to make money for Christmas. One of the guys had a five year old son. Whatever they had done to lose their licenses, at least they were trying to be responsible now. "I just couldn't ruin someone's life right here at Christmas by having them thrown in jail or something," Mark told me.

"That's why I love you," I told him. And to myself "I bet THEY feel like it's Christmas!"

As I've processed all of this the last couple of days, I decided to "bust" myself for whining that it doesn't "feel" like Christmas.

No matter how I feel, it does not change the fact that the Christmas story happened. As we sat at the Point Of Grace Christmas concert a few nights ago, the most touching moment came when special guest, Scott Krippayne, sang Sydney's favorite worship song "Here I Am To Worship". Her little face just lit up. She had only heard it in the car (100 times). As she opened her mouth and sang with all her heart, "light of the world, you stepped down into darkness..................all for love's sake became poor" I was struck by the "Christmas" message in the familiar words. It's about a fallen world and a Light of hope. Things were set in motion on that night when Jesus was born that would change the course of history. Those things are still in effect today.

Whether I can FEEL them, or not.

Goodbye, Jerry

Pat and Jerry happen to own the seats next to ours at the Titans games. They are about the age of my parents and we don't have that much in common with them. Although Pat and I often shared polite conversation, Jerry was very quiet and kept to himself at first. We were well into our second season together before he finally started "high-fiving" with Mark and some of the other guys. Sometime last season Pat confided in me that Jerry had been diagnosed with cancer. He never looked or acted sick. Not even at the one or two games he came to this season. The last words I said to Jerry, back in September were, "we'll see you at the end of the season - at the last game!" He was about to have bone marrow transplant surgery and the recovery would keep him away from his beloved Titans games until late December. I am sorry to say that I found out today at the game that he died last month. We sat next to his son today and he told us that Jerry just never got healthy enough to have the surgery that could have saved his life. I feel so bad for Pat. I could tell that she and Jerry had a great friendship. They truly enjoyed going to those Titans games together.

I took it pretty hard. I know I looked visibly shocked when Jerry's son (I think his name is Lee) gave us the news. How do you grieve the loss of an acquaintance? I couldn't believe he was gone. I immediately put myself in Pat's shoes and felt the sadness wash over me. And here it is the holiday season.

I emailed Pat when we got home from the game. I told her I was so glad to have known Jerry. And I meant it. Because the truth is that somewhere over the course of two and a half football seasons, after sharing victory and defeat, touch downs and interceptions, we became more than acquaintances. He was our fellow Titans fanatic. And that made him our friend.

Goodbye, Jerry. You will be missed.

The Labrador Effect

No one in our house is getting much sleep these days. Who would've thought one yellow, lab-mix canine could so upset the delicate balance of our sleep patterns. Maggie has quite suddenly decided that she VERY MUCH wants to sleep in Sydney's room. I can't for the life of me figure out why sneaking up (and shedding) on the couch isn't good enough for her anymore. I really don't mind if Maggie sleeps in Sydney's room. She just seems to want to curl up next to the bed on a nest of dress-up clothes. The thing is that Sydney VERY MUCH does NOT want Maggie in her room. So here's what happens: Maggie opens Syd's door and starts to circle and make herself at home - which wakes Sydney up. Sydney hops out of bed and comes and gets in bed with me and Mark. She will stay until either I feel claustrophobic or she kicks Mark in the ribs - whichever comes first. One of us will then escort her back to her bed. When it is my shift, I lie in bed with her until I think she's fallen back asleep. Then I attempt to sneak out. I say "attempt" because it often takes more than one try. I will swear that she's out, but nine times out of ten she will catch me as soon as I stand up. When I finally make it back to bed, I lie there anticipating the next cycle of this middle of the night "musical beds" game that we play. I'm usually irritated by it all. I take my sleep very seriously. However, a couple of nights ago I laughed to myself as I lay there thinking about my very polite, timid dog, who wouldn't ever MEAN to put anybody out. As I drifted off to sleep the thought running through my head went something like this: if a yellow dog wags her tail in Tennessee.......does she trigger a hurricane somewhere on the other side of the world? Or maybe it's wide-spread bouts of sleeplessness that she triggers!

Theologians, A Losing Streak and The Christmas Corner

I don't have anything specific that I want to talk about. I just feel like it's time for me to write another blog. I've been "researching" other people's blogs and quite honestly, I'm intimidated! Apparently, I didn't get the memo about being some kind of theologian if you want to write a blog. I struggled for about a week, trying to come up with something of redeeming spiritual value to bestow upon you. But the thing I keep coming back to is that I just have to be myself. If I accidentally say something inspirational, well, praise the Lord.

It is now official that the Titans are on a losing streak. They've lost 3 games in a row (please be advised that if the Titans were still on a winning streak, I would refer to them as "we" - as in "we WERE on a winning streak") Someday I would like to do some kind of human behavior study on sports fans. I cannot explain to you why I take it so hard when we lose (ahem, when THEY lose!) I mean, I don't KNOW them. It's like I share in all of the disappointment, but NONE of the outlandish NFL salaries that cushion the blow of defeat. Sigh. I don't know. I've said it before: I am NOT a good fan!

Well, Christmas is here. But isn't it still November?? I felt weird deliberating over Christmas decorations at Michael's today - at first. Jules and I ran in "for a quick 10 minutes" to grab a few things on the way to the studio. FORTY minutes later we lugged garland, ornaments and a neon green mini Christmas tree (for Syd's room) to the car. So I turned the corner. The Christmas corner. I remember having a dilemma in high school one year about whether it was too early in the season to give Gayla a Christmas sweatshirt for her birthday. Her birthday is December 7th!!!!! In this day and age, we've already had the tree up for two weeks, been to 3 parties and are already thinking about New Year's Eve by then!! The downside of this early celebration is trying to explain to little Sydney that no, it's NOT Christmas yet, it's the Christmas SEASON. I've explained this to her 10 times a day since Thanksgiving. Bless her little heart - I guess we have four more weeks of her excited exclamations of "Mama, look at the lights! Is it Christmas?? Is it Christmas right NOW??"

Those are my random thoughts for now. Maybe I will return soon with more organized thoughts!

A Little Perspective

Oh. My. Goodness! Disney World is overwhelming - and mostly in a GOOD way. Mostly. I think it's going to take a few days for me to process it all. We've been home for a few hours and I am still reeling. And I'm feeling like maybe it's time to go get in line for something! I did my research. Early to mid November was supposed to be the second slowest time of year at Disney World. HA! Turns out I forgot about Veteran's Day. The Orlando area schools were out on Monday, so EVERYONE decided to take a little weekend trip to Disney. Plus - it is a big military holiday (duh!) - and a lot of servicemen and women are given extra time off around Veteran's Day. And where do they go?? Why yes, the Magic Kingdom, of course!

My inclination is to report all the things I wish we had done differently. That is what keeps whirling around in my mind. So let's pretend I have already regaled you with stories of crowds, hour-long shuttle rides and mad dashes to the potty (at the most inopportune times through throngs of people).

If I only had the good things left to tell you, I would tell you about the perfect weather. I would tell you how Sydney's face lit up when she met Cinderella and how she kept asking if I could still see Ariel's "kiss" (bright red lipstick) on her forehead hours after Ariel kissed her. I would talk about dinner at the castle, followed by a Christmas party in the park. I would mention the Christmas parade and how snow fell on Main Street. I would tell you that the castle shimmered with a million lights that changed from blue to silver to purple as the fireworks rained down in the most breath-taking display I have ever seen.

I would tell you about the nicest family we met on the shuttle. The dad is in the Air Force and had been in Iraq for 4 months. He is home for two weeks (unexpectedly, to attend a seminar). I would tell you how honored I was to share in the mom's excitement at having her husband home. I would tell you how cute it was that the 5 year old and 1 1/2 year old were all over their Daddy - and how he was loving every minute. I would tell you how proud I was when Mark thanked him for his service to our country.

I would tell you that next week he will return to Iraq for 8 more months.

I would tell you how that puts everything in perspective.

I can tell you that I am grateful I got to share the magic of Disney World with people I love. And I can tell you that our Air Force friends feel the same way.

The Calm

As I sit here writing this blog, sun pours through my dining room window. Holly Dog sits beside me, nodding off as she soaks in the warmth. The dryer is humming, the kitchen is clean and I am at peace. For now. I recognize this strange calm. And it makes me nostalgic - peacefully nostalgic. That is, if it's even possible to be nostalgic about events that haven't even occurred yet. In two days we will take Sydney on her first trip to Disney World. She just has no idea what is in store for her. I am already bracing myself for the chaos, as well as the tender memories that are just around the corner. I am steeling myself for the stress of modern day air travel, for the absurdity of creeping sock footed through security with booster seat, stroller, computer and 4 year old in tow. I have been casually packing for two days. Don't be too impressed. It's really not like me to already be half packed. And it's actually working against me. The presence of the suitcases in our bedroom floor has set the dogs on edge. They click around nervously, following me from room to room, fearing our departure. But a week from now it will all be over. The Disney World flurry will be replaced by the Thanksgiving flurry. Mark's family will come to town and join my family for the festivities. It will be crazy with all the kids, but nothing does my heart better than having all my people in one place. And with Thanksgiving comes full on Holiday Season. Yes, I am thankful for this calm, this calm before the beautiful, frenetic storm that is brewing.

Mosaic

I am 52 pages into Amy Grant's book, "Mosaic: Pieces of My Life So Far." I finally had to put it down because I have cried my way through the first several chapters. I guess it wouldn't matter except that I'm sitting at Sam & Zoe's. I came to write a new blog, promising myself that I would only read a few pages of the book. But I couldn't stop. I know part of the emotion comes from knowing Amy personally, for many years. We have never been close, but have always been friendly. I have always been a fan, though mostly in secret. I grew up in music business circles where it is simply "not cool" to be a fan - or at least that's how it seemed from my teenage perspective. Anyway, many of these stories she tells - I remember. I was there. Or I heard the story the first time she told it. So I would have expected this book to move me. What I was not prepared for is the way that I identify with her voice, her melancholy. Even the happy stories are wistful, full of nostalgia. It is almost too much for me. If I had to say, I think I would tell you that my tears are mostly from relief. It feels so good to know that someone else walks around with the weight of the world on their shoulders. If you were to meet me (most of you have!), you'd think I am lighthearted and fun-loving. And you'd be right - partly. But even in the best of times, when I am laughing and truly enjoying myself, there is a part of me deep inside saying, "Please, please don't let this end. Please let it always be like this!" If I'm honest, I have to admit that I'm probably more comfortable in the hard times - in the hard times when melancholy is actually appropriate. And I have to say that it feels good to be in such good company. Thanks, Amy.