Substitute for Life

Have you ever been working on something and realized halfway through that you were doing it incorrectly? Yeah.  Last night I put a strand of lights on the tree and went to plug them in...and no prongs. I quit.
But today, that was not a possibility. The quiting, I mean. 

I was substitute teaching for the Multimedia/Production classes at the local Votec school today. Halfway through the day I realized that I started off on the wrong foot with the kids.

The two classes are 1.5 hours each,  and I should have begun both with my work history, degree, etc. I did not. The first class was unimpressed with me, as my demeanor lacked authority. I gave up trying to get them to listen to my stories and began engaging them in their own. Still not entirely successful,  but oone of them added me on Snapchat. Ha.

The second class was far more compliant,  and indulged my resumé recitation. They also seemed interested in my knowledge as a news person. I gave them some extra "insight" on how to decifer news vs editorial. They knew what they needed to be doing, and they did it.

Here's my point...you can start over, even if you are halfway done. It doesn't matter what you are doing, make sure that you hit the reset button if you need to do so.

I'm not working my career path right now,  and that's okay. I am supporting the Hubs, and what he is trying to do for God's plan. My work? Talking. I can find more than one way to do that, and if I'm doing it wrong? I'll hit reset.

Beginning ... Again.

In the 20 years my husband and I have been together, we have moved from Colorado, to Texas to Missouri, and multiple times within each. But when you move, you get a chance to start fresh. That's what I like. 

Growing up with a military dad, we moved a lot. It was to my advantage, though. I got to reinvent myself in every new town and school. There is something to be said for having the 7 year, biblical redo. They erased all debts and returned property every 7 years. That could explain bankruptcy and credit rules today. 

Anyway, we are starting over--and I like it. I get a chance at a new job, new show, new audience. And so does the hubs. 

We shall see what happens next. I'll keep you updated. 

Audra Caine

Censorship. Control. Safety?

We ran across an issue this weekend with a possible FCC regulations violation, simply stated "you are not allowed advertise/entice with hard liquor samples on the radio."  The station's marketing person knew it, but the client's guest vendor had not yet been instructed in the legal ramifications on our end. While the FCC requires we control what is aired on our stations, regulations are still far more liberal than in the past.  No big deal. 

This morning, though, I ran across a story on twitter:

This event marked the beginning of the end of a freedom for the Chinese that we hold dear to us in these United States: freedom of speech. Yes, I am aware that in the immediate sense of 1989, they were assembling, something we all should cherish, but open communication in China has virtually been halted since then. 

BEIJING (AP) — Remember June 4, Shi Shusi asked the 1.5 million readers of his popular microblog last year. Moments later, his postings were erased. A note from the microblog operator said they were "inappropriate publicity." The Tiananmen crackdown "is absolutely crucial to understanding the way press censorship works today," said David Bandurski, editor of the China Media Project at Hong Kong University. "The notion was that you have to control public opinion through media control to maintain social and political stability." Commentators who hoped the rise of satellite TV, the Internet and social media would loosen the party's monopoly on power were disappointed. As millions of Chinese went online and acquired smartphones, Beijing spent heavily to develop high-tech filters.

While I sat thinking about my own freedom to "blog", I noticed another story:  

This time, freedom of speech comes back to bite the internet's newest golden boy, and it turns out he might not be so "golden".  He sent some very masogynistic emails back in college. Of course, he has since apologized. He is 23 now, and says he has matured since then. Umm, yeah. But still, we're talking about it...we can talk about it. 

And yet, this was by far the most profound and America-positive story of the morning: 

No, the topic is not positive, but the discussion is the most positive thing we do in this country. You may not agree with those talking heads on TV or crazy man in the box, but by golly, they are free to yammer on all they want. 

In China, as well as many other countries, they do not speak of these types of historical oppression. The genocide of the Native American people would have been "erased", the slavery of Africans brought to this country would be censored, were it not for freedom of speech. Censorship=Amnesia

Yes, we do allow a great deal out of Pandora's Box with the internet. But what about all the good? What about those who share their joy? Children and their deployed parents communicating via the web, old high school friends who stay in touch via Facebook, and the learning! The children's, high school and college education available through our free and open internet is amazing!

Last, but never least, we share the love of God through the freedom of speech in this country every day. Whether you are a follower of Christ, God, Buddha, Allah, Mohammed or otherwise sacred power, you are free to express it in America. 

We host a great many international students at our church, and I will never forget one young Chinese businessman who came to Southeast Missouri State for one semester only, to learn English. As we hung out in the college classroom in the Family Life Center, he asked me "Why do you do this?" After some interpretation, and further explanation of what he really was asking, I told him that sharing our space and being kind and welcoming is what Christ calls us to do. "Love the Lord God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself." (Matthew 22: 37-39)  

It was not until this morning that I realized how important my words could have been in the life of this man from China.  I could have preached against the communist way of living. I could have droned on about how great America is for everyone.  I am relieved to look back now and know that I was more of a follower of Christ than I ever tried to be at any point in my life...and it wasn't all that hard to do. I didn't have to fight a government that oppresses me, or hack a network to get past a filter, or most importantly, stand down a tank. 

I have seen it quoted a great deal lately that "history is written by the victors".  Yes, that is often the case, but not so much as it was prior to film, tv, radio, and the internet. 

Please remember Tiananmen. The future generations of China may need us as their witnesses to write their history.

May the Lord of all free those who are oppressed, confined, enslaved, and censored in the name of 'their own safety'. Amen

Lonesome Whistle

I woke this morning to a lonesome train whistle at 5:45am. How do I know it was lonesome? Well, it sounded sad in the silence. But I'll admit, I was a little sad.

 

It's Mother's Day. And even though I am lying in bed listening to my husband softly snoring, (softly, I swear) I feel a bit like the train whistle.  

I won't see my mother or grandmother today, as I would like. My mother is in Texas, and my grandmother is definitely with The Lord. I say definitely because, if she was locked out of Heaven, she would talk to St. Peter until he agreed to let her in. But I digress. 

The train whistle. I used to live close to a train in Waco, Texas. When I say close, I mean that the windows rattled. It was a roller coaster time in my personal life, but I loved my radio family during that time. The train became my alarm, as I worked mornings with Flash. I often considered the train my lifesaver, until it blocked my path across the road. 

When we lived in Austin, the train ran through the center of town, down Mopac between the traffic lanes. It always fascinated me that they built the highway straddling the train. It moved away by the river, and we rarely heard the whistle in our home. 

The train that rolls in the Hill Country near my parents' home in South Texas has become more audible since developers have come in and cleared the land. I wonder sometimes if the train I heard in Waco or saw in Austin was the same one that rolled through the hills. 

My parents have my grandmother's antique bedroom suite. I used to sleep with my husband and the twins in that bedroom on the train side of the house, and listen for the whistle, waking to the feeling of my grandmother touching my arm the way she always did.  It used to aggravate me when I was young, but that bedroom was a haven for her spirit for a time. 

When I awoke this Mother's Day, it was the loneliness in my heart that the train's whistle called to, for my mother and my grandmother. I wondered how to assuage it, as it threatened to overtake me. So, I turned to the Upperroom: 

As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you.  - Isaiah 66:13 (NIV)

The author's prayer today? 'Help us to depend on you, dear God, as children depend on their mother. Amen.'

It occurs to me now that when I was furthest from God, the train was closest to me-the whistle loud and overwhelming. When my faith has been strongest, the train and it's whistle have been soft and sometimes distant. This is the way he shows His love, rattling the windows and then moving away as we are close to the river, the water of life. 

This Mother's Day, I take comfort in God's word, and His presence in my daily living. 

Yes, Lord, I hear you...softly blowing the whistle for me.  

Can you hear me now?

Occasionally, you hear yourself--and think "that's not me"!  But it is. And you realize, the person you are in your head might actually be the real you. 

I was out of radio for too long. I was never really okay with it, I pretended I was, but I was lying to myself. I would hear women on the radio and be aware of their every misstep, squeak, and error. I told myself I could do it better. Or so I thought. 

But what of those years absent from the air? Well, I like to think I invested in my listening skills. Hearing myself from the outside is easier now, as I can record--voice track--a shift in order to multitask. But listening to it gives me the ability to rate my own work, and hear what was inside my head from the listeners' point of reflection. (I made a lot of sound level errors yesterday, btw.)

It's the engagement that I am seeking. How can I keep them interested? Tell a story that will delight and engage...this is my journey now. Take the me inside my head, the witty, kind, thoughtful me, and hand it over to the person on the other side of the radio. 

What do I have to offer? I am, and have always been a radio listener--it just so happens that I am the DJ too. 

Want to listen? K103FM.com. 

M-F 2-7pm

I'm the one with the smile in my voice. 

Cape Central Tiger Jungle

An open letter to the CT Jungle:

This year we have ushered in the Class of 2014, a little bittersweet for me.

The year we moved to Cape was 2009, & our kids began 7th grade, and I subbed for a while--a lot at the junior high for the 8th graders who are now seniors. 

I had a great time, and watched stayed connected when I could, even after I departed to attend college at Southeast. 

This group of *Bo-Eric-Travis* kids has often acknowledged me for having been the fun sub, and asked me to come back over the years, and don't think I wasn't tempted. But radio is a career, and substitute teaching was never meant to be one.  But I digress, and this was meant to be a letter to The Jungle. 

Tigers, you made us proud tonight. You have shown great school spirit this first part of the football season, filling the stands--even tonight in the rain. We have been to games with better weather and far less Jungle present.  Even when we were down 40-7 at the half, y'all stayed. And cheered. And chanted. Mind you, this was all without the band to egg you on...

To sum up: keep it going. I want to see you finish strong. Making the grades, skipping the drunken parties, and proving that your generation has just as much to offer as the ones who have come before. 

What? Too deep? Fine. Whatever. 

GO TIGERS! 

*Bo-Eric-Travis? Yeah. Bo Wilferth, Eric Craiglow and Travis Simmons thought it was cute to switch names in class. I figured it out. Eric's a bad liar and Duncan McKinley and Jacob Boerboom kept laughing. Dead giveaway. Class of 2014, enjoy your senior year. 

Possessions

Possessions.  Life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.-Luke 12:15

Haha. I thought I wanted to tackle this. Psych. 😝

Help Me

As the summer draws to a close, the twins scramble to squeeze everything in, including the summer reading books: The Catcher in the Rye and The Help. I do not envy them the aggravating tale of Holden Caulfield. I never enjoyed a book less than that one. The Help, however, was a painful look at a part of America's past that hit far too close to home for my comfort.  I see the connection between the two, though. 

Anissa and I watched the movie version of The Help with Emma Stone just a few months ago. It was a strong retelling of the 1960s segregated south. While the pain of black Americans during this period was deep and unmistakeable, the story focused on the narrater Skeeter's pain. She was robbed of a relationship with a black woman caregiver by her fearful white mother-a woman driven by other people's prejudices. Skeeter is a journalist, and decides to tell the story of the painful truth of the black maids in the south. She almost comes unravelled in the process. 

As we watched, Anissa grew more distraught with the concept and every hate filled act of ignorance. She wept, and I wept for her. It was not something she had truly seen in her life. We often laugh and say "you do go to public school"--but her school is integrated. Our kids have many friends who are black, or biracial, or hispanic, or whatever. We have worked hard to create an environment of love and acceptance for all. We have even brought international college students into our lives for them to know the world. 

But the book, it is bringing it all back for her. Every painful detail. And her love for her friends, it clouds her comprehension of who could think that way. I remember. I remember many who did. Including me. 

I remember being in 4th grade. It was 1976.  (10 years after my father's high school-my future school-was integrated.) We had moved to Germany, and knew no one. My father was Air Force, and we went to school on base. The first friend I made was Dorothy. She was so beautiful. Caramel skin, curly hair, and funny!  She was nice to me, and I wanted to be her friend. But, I lived in a house that didn't allow it. I knew that, or at least I thought I knew. My parents were much like Skeeter's, it was just how they were raised. They never knew that I had turned down Dorothy's request to have a sleep over because her father was black. I was afraid of what my daddy would say, but I never gave him a chance to say anything.  I allowed our friendship to disintegrate. (I never noticed the origins of that word until just now.) I have regretted it ever since. There were moments in high school that I had opportunities to fight the color barrier, but I was too scared of fighting that battle. I didn't push. (Sorry, Reggie, you deserved a chance.)

While I was in high school, my father went back to college. I remember being so proud to attend his graduation. A degree in industrial management. But it was the psychology classes of his minor that helped him the most. He finally understood the why of how he was raised, and moved forward. My father is a Democrat, and I wasn't sure what he would do in 2008. He called me the first time he voted for Obama. I cried when I got off the phone. I cried for Dorothy. I cried for me. My tears were for a victory that wasn't about an election. It was about my childhood, and all those lost relationships. All those I could have loved, but allowed society to tell me I shouldn't. 

Anissa texted me yesterday-she and Dave were driving to a conference youth meeting in Springfield. She said the book was upsetting her so much that she had to put it down for a while. I reassured her as best I could, but it brought back so many painful memories of chances missed, bravery denied. I still was haunted last night by the president's words: "It could have been me." Yes, Sir, it could have. But if its up to Anissa and Austin's generation, it won't always have to be that way. 

My children don't have to feel afraid, like I did, they just need to feel. My words to you: don't allow yours to grow up in a color cocoon, it will break their hearts later when they realize what they have missed out on. 

Dorothy and I, we weren't meant to be.  But my new friend Tamara? Yes, she and I have a chance. 

Sorry, I couldn't resist including the DYAC moment. Oh, and don't worry, she'll finish the book, she's too much like her mother and grandfather to not finish what she starts. 

2013 NOLA Mission Trip ends, or does it?

Our final day was one of travel, and pleasant surprises. We awoke at the same 5:30am as we had all week. And yes, it was painful, but not because our muscles were tired. We all knew that this was the end of our trip. We were not really ready to say goodbye to our friends and the beauty of New Orleans. 

So we crossed the bridge from the West Bank one last time to experience the French Quarter, and the tourist stops. 

We had to stop at Cafe Du Monde for beignets. This is that moment, when you are raised eating them cooked by your mother or aunt or grandmother, and you can finally say you have had the original. 

 Mmmm, so good with Cafe Au Lait!  Then we did our sight seeing, hitting the square and St. Louis Cathedral, street musicians, the Katrina museum and a little shopping. 

Yes, I do have photos, but you will need to buy stock and come to the Stockholders Banquet on August 18th to experience that!

Again, we knew this was coming to a close, and finding it bittersweet. 

CCYMer Garrett, however, reminded us early Friday morning that this is not the end of our mission. This is the beginning of our task to take up the full armor of God: Shield, breastplate, shoes, sword, helmet.  We must go out now and share the gospel--the good news of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ--knowing that we are protected by our faith. After Garrett, Bev Boehmer spoke of our return home, reminding us to be inclusive of our family and friends to those jokes and games and experiences that we shared along the way. It is for that reason I have shared this web log of our journey, so that you too may experience the faith, hope and joy that this 2013 New Orleans Mission Trip has brought to us all. Now we can all go out and shared the Good News: GOD IS GOOD!

Blessings to you all, and may God bless New Orleans. 

"Hurricane" Audra 

Post Script: To our adult leaders, Barb Kinder, Roberta Humphries, Amy Brookover, Leah Denby, and David 'Chip' Wilson--you are a blessing to these kids. Thank you so very much for your service, guidance and love. 

To my husband, the youth minister:  Dave, you are building and growing a powerful ministry that will live in these kids' hearts and minds and spirits FOR-EV-ER. (Sandlot style)

Thank you for including me. I love you.  

2013 NOLA Mission Trip Day 4

Our final day on the worksite, but several of us were moved over to a "punch list" house-a home that is nearing completion and you are simply finishing off a list of small detail items. So I'm not sure how the last day at the Marigny house went-but we will have photos from SBP for the Stockholders Banquet. BTW, we are already planning the menu! Yummy!

The alternate site was in a small town-Violet. It is the location of a Valero refinery, and near the port. There were lots of oil company influences that I noticed, having grown up around that. 

The site supervisor was Claire. She had only been in the house 2 days, and was stressed! Even Mitchell, the 8th grader noticed. Britney and Brendan hung a door and frame for the laundry room. Mitchell and Leah painted the soffit. And I ran the chop saw to finish out the corner bead on the kitchen and bath cabinets at the floor level. Lets just say that our experience paid off at this house!

The kids have just been fantastic, we always have such fun with them. But they have bonded with some new adults, and this group meshes very well. Oh, I thought you might enjoy the size of this bug:

Upon completing the workday Thursday, we returned from our sites and had lunch and showered, then headed down to St Charles Ave to ride the trolley. We saw Hannah Kinder's old apartment, and her new street! 😀 (Barb got to hang out with her later.). The kids loved the historic homes, and a group of CCYM leaders went too. It's fun to see our kids so strongly bonded with them, as they are from all over the conference. 

We then went to have dinner at the Knights of Columbus Hall. This group has been feeding volunteers every Thursday for eight years. We were their last meal guests, and they put many babies in the 'King Cake' so that we would all carry the party on with us. (Google it.) Kate and I had a selfie when we got back. 

Worship was led for a final night by Manchester UMC, and Tristan closed the themed week of the 'Full Armor of God'. 

She killed it with her witty Lord of the Rings anecdotes. 

It wasn't hard to fall asleep. We were exhausted. 

I will give you the synopsis of the trip home next time. 

Blessings! 

2013 NOLA Mission Trip Day 3

Work day 3 went well, we arrived plenty early to the Yuan house on Marigny Street. 

I will post the family story below. 

Austin pulled another shift of mowing, so again-you won't see him in photos. 

We finished up on the metal corner bead for doorways, and drywalled in the last wall. Barb Kinder came with us to the house today. Roberta Humphries, Leah Denby and Amy Brookover are working for the St Bernard Project warehouse. 

We headed out a little early from the site to go to a "Welcome Home" party for some SBP homeowners. The Lennox family had been waiting 8 years for their home to be rebuilt. They were fortunate that his father lived around the corner from them, and they all moved in together. 

The neighborhood was heavily damaged by Katrina, with 11 feet of water rushing in when the levees broke. The abandoned and damaged homes are considered "blight", with the city estimating 35-40,000 still existing. We have seen so many. 

If you look closely, you can still see the x and markings from when they checked homes for survivors, deceased, or electrical/gas issues. 

Following the party, we took the scenic route back and saw the oldest black subdivision in America-some truly amazing homes!

Lunch was delicious, ham sandwiches are the best when you've been working hard. We showered, but part of our group went to paint a house in the neighborhood. Yellow with red trim. :/ only in New Orleans! 

The girls hung out in the sleeping room, had some good bonding time and laughed a lot! Rachael and Kate modeled for us, and Maddy and I had some good quiet chat time. 

When the paint crew returned, we headed down to the ferry area, where there was a small festival. Vendors, food and a three piece band. Sax, piano and drummer. We walked the levee, and had some great photo ops. 

There was delicious food, which many said was their "high" when we shared "Hi-Lo" time. 

Church time is when we sit down as a group and talk about the day, our experiences and what we need to be thinking about. Dave and Chip both pointed to the day a their "low", because the trip is more than half over. We all love working together, and Max shared how impressed he is with the lack of conflict in this group. We have had a great time. 

Worship tonight was very touching, as the speaker was discussing the things she has survived, and in the "Full Armor of God" theme, discussed the helmet of God, and protecting your thoughts. 

I often allow negative thoughts to invade my mind, and this was a good lesson for me in terms of not allowing those thoughts to destroy my peace. 

We have a full day tomorrow, and I will keep you posted on our work!

Blessings!

Audra

2013 NOLA Mission Trip Day Two

Whew. Okay, day two was a little rough. Literally. Hanging replacement drywall is often complicated for experts, but when you add in youth and inexperience--well, you understand. So, we power-tooled through and moved on!  

We have been working shifts this week, and we are mornings. If you know Dave, you understand how hard this is, and if you know me, it's not. :) the kids are all taking it is stride. Austin has moved over to a lawn crew apart from Centenary, and feels very empowered in his experience with mowing this summer. We miss him, but mission is about growing and we are growing to appreciate him more in his absence. 

The girls worked on "mudding" drywall seams yesterday, while the boys and Anissa tackled that pesky drywall. 

I got to do a little special corner correction, where drywall was crunched and needed to be cut out and patched with 45-min mud. It suited my OCD learned behavior, thanks Pop. 

We have a great site manager, Meg. She's great with the kids, lots of positive reinforcement. We have been fortunate this year--no drama--and no tears, yet. It will come, but maybe in worship, rather than on site. 

Did I mention that we have our own port-o-potty? Yeah, God is good. 

Blessings!

2013 NOLA Mission Trip-Day 1

Today was the first day of our New Orleans Mission Trip for the Centenary United Methodist Church Youth Group. 

They are all doing fantastic! We start early, as in get up at 5am, early. But there were no complaints. As we are working for the St Bernard Project, we work split shifts, and we are 7a-1p. This is a super short workday for us, as we are accustomed to working 8-4, but we got a 2 hour nap today! Woo hoo!

The youth were very excited and enthusiastic, and got straight to work on drywall prep work for tape and float, which we will do tomorrow. 

The SBP Americorp worker said we were the best crew she has had in 10 months of service! This is such a blessing for Dave, as we know how great all these kids are, so to hear it confirmed by a stranger is a great affirmation that the work is does is truly spirit les and spirit filled. 

Thanks to all who are sponsoring us and supporting us. There is more to come!

Stay tuned!

Living in Small Town America

This morning, Trini and I went for a walk downtown. She is up for going anywhere, and so I chose to walk down toward the sun-and you can see the river over the flood wall. Seeing the renovation of the Broadway Corridor and all the little businesses give me such an appreciation for what the town is trying to do-improve an area that was forgotten. 

Downtown has a lot of broken down buildings, closed restaurants and merchants. There is a lot left to be done. Bringing in a casino was only the beginning, Cape Girardeau needs investors and people to run new restaurants and businesses. So how does that happen? I don't know the answers, but I want to see this town succeed. 

I watched the town my mother grew up in die. It was tiny, but still, when you see your church shut down, it breaks your heart. The gas station I spent summers getting a coke from, and ate burgers there in high school-it burned down a few years ago. There's no grocery store and and I found out recently that my grandmother's house is gone, as Miranda says "the house that built me". 

I digress. 

This small town still has life. And it's really not that small, there is a major university here. Well, at least I think it's major. Eleven thousand students is nothing to scoff at, and my walk this morning confirms that there is a spirit of America here. Want to see?

It's a nice place. And as for the truly American feel?  Well, here it is...

Yeah. That's a deer. Riding a bike. In a wedding gown. 

Small towns can be fun, too. 

"Keep Cape Weird"? Well, not as catchy as the original Austin phrase, but it will do. 

Prayers at 5am. Prayers for sisters.

It's 4:45am. I don't need to be awake, but I am. I spent 30 minutes in a courtroom yesterday while a man was sentenced for killing his wife. Clay Waller killed Jacque Waller in a fit of rage, but he had predug the whole to bury her. It was her sister Cheryl who made the greatest impression on me. She got up and spoke about how wonderful her sister was, and how sad they all were to have lost her. My heart was saddened for her, as she talked of raising Jacque's children. 

I woke up because my own family is out of town, and I was anticipating a text when they arrived at their destination. My head and heart are still swimming in the details of the Waller case. When I checked my phone, I decided to go ahead and read the Upperroom devotional. 

Today's scripture was:  Carry each other’s burdens and so you will fulfill the law of Christ. - Galatians 6:2 (CEB)

The writer spoke of siblings lost to death, and how those left behind are comforted-seeing God directly through the love and support of others. It goes without saying that many have supported Jacque's family, but I couldn't help but see her sister's pain in the text.  

My prayer today is for Cheryl Brenneke. Her loss is deep and sorrowful. And I pray that she feels the love and support of her friends and family during this sad conclusion to a two year long ordeal. An ordeal that is long from over, as she raises her sister's triplets. 

 My prayer is for the Rawson sisters. Rest in peace Jacque, and live in peace Cheryl. 

SUNDAY DINNER

It ain't lunch on Sunday...
After worship today, as we were gearing up for the first NASCAR race, I decided to make dinner. Knowing we were out of propane for the grill, I decided to try the meatloaf in muffin tins that I had seen on Pinterest. I had thawed patties, so I broke them in half and put them in metal cups. It left a hollow cup that I filled with picante sauce.
I had one leftover patty, and split it to create caps for them and then topped with BBQ sauce.
Baked at 400 for 30 min or so, and voila!
My spin on easy meatloaf, with whatever is handy!
Enjoy!
BTW, thoroughly enjoyed Junior finishing second with no wrecks! Go 88!

THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT REIGNS

THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT REIGNS SUPREME-DECEMBER 5, 2012

Today on HLN, I saw a story about a veteran who paid the electric bills of several people in line behind him at the power company where he was from (I at first thought they meant a veterinarian-silly me).  The man said that he had been homeless just the day before.

I shopped with baby girl yesterday for our Angel Tree gifts, two young people wanted simple gifts-boots for the girl and a gaming store gift card for the boy.  While I was out shopping earlier in the day, I overheard a man say that he "sadly needed to buy a Cape Central sweatshirt".  He revealed that he too was shopping for an Angel Tree child.  I politely tried to eavesdrop as to why he said "sadly".  Turns out, his kids attend Notre Dame, the regional Catholic high school.  It was then that I rudely laughed out loud, turned to him and rudely said "Glad you are able to lower yourself."  I wasn't feeling his pain, as my poor little tropical storms very proudly attend Cape Central High School.

But the truly important part of the story isn't my rudeness or his pride, but rather that we both had taken it upon ourselves to shop for someone else for Christmas.

For the past 5 years, Mr. Hurricane, the little tropical storms and I have participated in The Advent Conspiracy-a program to encourage families to give each other homemade, handmade, or other such gifts, and then take the money that they would have budgeted and give it to charity.  This year, we have opted to give through the Angel Tree program, and are actually buying gifts for the little tropical storms too.  Either way, we are giving more than we ever have.  Perhaps it is a trend everywhere?  We hope so.

If you would like more info on The Advent Conspiracy, go to their website:  www.adventconspiracy.org

                                

Happy Giving!

TUESDAYS WITH COFFEE, A BAGEL AND SCHMEAR...?

TUESDAYS WITH COFFEE, A BAGEL AND SCHMEAR...?

Some mornings you wake up and all you want is a bowl of cereal.  The little tropical storms often have cereal for breakfast-so does Mr. Hurricane.  But I love bagels and cream cheese, and English muffins, and nuts, and substance.

Sometimes you need more.  Sometimes you need substance.

Baby girl says I should enjoy having some time off, but I am struggling to keep my patience in check. I have been working multiple jobs/roles for so long that "just being at home" is tough for me. I feel like my day of work should have more substance.

I realized today that taking care of my family-particularly the boy who threw up this morning-is my priority. For now, for today, I will let go of my desire to have a job that defines me and just be comfortable being me...with the substance that God provides.

Then there are those times that you want more out of someone else...Blake Shelton on the Voice knows what I mean.

THE PAST IS...PAST?

NOVEMBER 25, 2012 - THE PAST IS...PAST?

Today is one of those days that your past meets up with your present, and you wonder how you ever got to be this old...or at least how all this time has passed so quickly.

I sat on the sofa with Baby Girl, and we began watching STAR WARS Episode III.  I tried to tell her who the characters were, and how they were related to Luke and Leia.  I began to count back how far it was since I was sitting in a theatre watching Episode IV.  I was in 5th grade.  Wow.

When you realize that it has been that long, and then how some films stand the test of time, and some do not...it makes you wonder whether anyone will remember the finer things of the 20th century.  Disco, the Muppet Show, and Pop Rocks.  I'm kidding, but there are some things that we hold on to from literature for decades that kids hate:  Wuthering Heights, the Catcher in the Rye, and even Moby Dick.  Why haven't we moved on from some of the past?

This morning in Sunday school, we were reading John 3:16-20.  Perhaps the things we try to hold on to are not always the worst for us, but the messages that we must carry forward.  Our pastor preached on Revelations and Doomsday Preppers today.  I used to think that "doomsday" meant the world coming to an end, but then I realized recently that the New Madrid Fault could be the "doomsday" that comes sooner than later.  If I had only a few minutes to pack and go, what book would I take in my "doomsday pack"?  At first I thought about pictures, or books to read.  Then I remembered.  The Bible.  It has more information, more stories, more lessons, and more history than any other book in my possession.  More importantly it has the hope of the risen Christ, the only comfort I would find in a world devoid of electronics, books, and tv.

Letting go of our human past is difficult, whether our childhood, or that of our own children...and what of the past-and the Bible of the past?  It has all the history you need in the future you find~today or tomorrow.

HAYDEN ADOPTS TAYLOR'S GUITAR

HAYDEN ADOPTS TAYLOR'S GUITAR - NOVEMBER 16, 2012

While living in Nashville filming her show Nashville, Hayden Panettiere has made friends with some of country music's leading ladies including Miranda Lambert, Ashley Monroe, Kelly Clarkson, Kellie Pickler and with Taylor Swift. Panettiere was recently on ABC's Jimmy Kimmel Live and while on the show, Jimmy Kimmel asked her if she had ever borrowed a cup of sugar from any of her new friend's and she said, "I went to go write a song with a friend of mine who is an amazing songwriter, Jessi Alexander, one night, and I freaked out because I didn't have a my guitar -- I'd left it in my trailer. I literally texted every one of those girls: 'Does anybody have a guitar?' Finally, Taylor Swift came through for me. Two of her security guards brought down this guitar ... I had to fill out a form. It was very intense." Hayden told Kimmel that she still hasn't given Swift her guitar back yet, saying, "I still have it! I've adopted it. I saw (Swift) at the CMAs and I was like, 'Hey, girl - good to see you! You know, I still have your guitar.' And she looked shocked. She was like, 'Oh. Oh, yeah?' I was like, 'Wait a second, two security guards and piece of paper later and you don't know that I have your $10,000 guitar?"

Click the link for Hayden's official "Telescope" video:     http://youtu.be/u7cN-zeLUuI