A few more thoughts...

I stand by what I said yesterday, but in the event that I sounded uncaring, I want to clarify a couple of things:

1. Yes, I know that our system encourages, extols, and even enables people to spend money they don't have. Where does the money for tax relief come from? Some savings account somewhere? Maybe the system should share a little of the blame.

2. My dad noted one part of the news story I had missed - a spendy pool table in the background. We (as a nation) have really forgotten what it means to live within our means, or why it is even an important value. (With foreclosures rising exponentially, maybe this is a value worth revisiting. Ya think?) When we were raising three young kids on a tight budget, we adhered to the "envelope" system. We had three envelopes - one for food, one for gas, and one for discretionary spending. Every payday, we divided the predetermined cash into the three categories and until the next payday, that's all she wrote. While I'm glad we don't have to live that way anymore, I value the lesson we lived by every pay period - when the money's gone, it's gone. Spend it wisely, because that's all there is. Again, the system has contributed to our skewed view, blurring the difference between conservative spending habits and mortgaging the future for the pleasures of the present.

3. I do realize that in places like California, it has grown harder and harder for the average person to become a homeowner, and easier and easier to fall prey to the sub-prime solution. We are so convinced that real estate is our best possible investment hope but I'm not so sure. With the "R" word looming large, maybe the first-time home buyer is better off renting and investing all that money they'd be spending in fixing up that first home until they can afford the size downpayment needed for a fixed rate mortgage. Again, back to that idea of preparing for the future rather than borrowing from it.

Call me old-fashioned...

Thankful

Tonight on the news there was a story about a family that thought they had achieved the American dream. They bought a house in a nice neighborhood and got their sons into a nice school and life was good. Except for the fact that now their ability to keep their house hangs in the balance. It's not because the husband lost his job or because the wife got cancer. The reason that foreclosure looms large is because this couple bought their house with no money down, and the only way they could qualify for a mortgage was by obtaining an adjustable rate mortgage. Well, by golly, the rate has been adjusting and adjusting, and the mortgage payment that used to be about $1100 a month now costs them $2015. They were very sad on tv, the wife crying, and the boys confessing that mom had to borrow money from them sometimes to pay the bills. In the end, after some phone calls from the network airing the report, the mortgage company offered to refinance the note for 7.something% fixed interest, and the family was saved. They got to keep their house, the boys got to stay in their school, and mom cried again, this time happy tears.

The point of this story was to demonstrate how real people are getting hurt by slow growth and fear of a recession. Somehow, I must have missed the point, because what I saw was a family who wanted a nice house in the suburbs, didn't have a down payment (who knows why not...maybe a job loss, or cancer...), didn't want to wait any longer for their dream, and bought a house that came with an ARM, hoping against hope that the rates would always stay as low as the day they bought it. And they didn't.

I think this is more than a sad story of a family who thought they could have it all. I think it is a commentary of what we have come to expect as our inalienable right, along with life and liberty - the right to spend money we don't have and get bailed out in the end, either by the government, or by the network that aired our story.

Which brings me to the reason for title of this post..."thankful". I am indeed thankful for my husband and the discipline he has shown through the years, never borrowing money for anything but houses and cars (except for those 12-months-same-as-cash, and only when we have the whole amount sitting in savings). We have lived well on less because of his diligent commitment to saving and spending less than what we make. Because of his careful planning and adherence to the plan, we have everything we need, and more. Thank you, honey, for taking such good care of us. Thank you that I never have to worry about bill collectors, or foreclosure, or about crying on tv.

Ok, ok, I know...

I know that I have said that this is the time I turn off the tv, and that the whole political scene during an election year just gives me a headache. I think I'll renege (I can do that, right?), at least until after the primaries. Because at this point anyway, they're just so darn interesting. It's the unending backstabbing and total loss of focus on what's really important that gets my goat.

On the way to work this morning, I heard on the radio that the Kennedys are endorsing Obama, and that the final straw was the comment by Pres. Clinton comparing his win in South Carolina to the win by Jesse Jackson way back when. Watching this thing gain momentum (the race card, the woman card, etc.), I'm starting to think (and I know it's early) that Obama might wind up winning in the end. I'm wondering if Pres. Clinton might not be as much help to Hillary as the party hopes. I'm drawn back to a verse in Matthew 12:25 - Jesus knew their thoughts and said to them, "Every kingdom divided against itself will be ruined, and every city or household divided against itself will not stand." You gotta wonder if Bill and Hillary are as "united" as they try to project, or if they'll make it to the end of the campaign without imploding.

And on the other side of the tracks, I found Mike Huckabee's commentary on the tax relief initiative fascinating. He intimated that the money to be returned to the taxpayers would be procured by a loan from the Chinese, and that if consumers are going to turn around and spend money on goods made in China, who is really winning here? Hmmm...

Well, enough politics for today.

Whew!

Well, the candidating weekend has been a big success, and is reaching its end. The candidate seems to be genuinely well-liked, and has been able to connect with parents and students alike.

H1 has been spending the weekend, and yesterday, after the obligatory candidating responsibities were past, she and I sat down to a movie and a 1000 piece puzzle. Nice way to end a busy day!

Sorry, Dad, that I've not been able to read your emails yet - I'll try to get to them asap.

Love is in the air. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

Quote of the day: The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.
George Bernard Shaw (1856 - 1950), Man and Superman (1903) "Maxims for Revolutionists"

Comment on the quote of the day: This quote came to mind today after a conversation with one of our kindergarten Sunday School teachers. Successfully teaching young children depends on our ability to adapt our instruction to their ability to receive it. Otherwise, we're heading for one big hair pulling session. On the other hand, maybe its the child who is succeeding in getting the adults to adapt the world to his liking that we should be learning from.

This is a picture of Sydney, building a snowman in her front yard in none other than Peachtree City, Georgia. This is the same Sydney who begged her mommy and daddy to pleeease take the family to Grandma's for Christmas so we can pleeease see SNOW!!! They did come north for Christmas, and as Paul's parents live only 1 1/2 hours from H & S, they came over for a visit. We ate Christmas dinner, played games, looked at pictures, but we did NOT play in the snow, because there was none. There had been nearly a foot on the ground the prior week, but a warm streak melted it away before the Georgia peaches arrived. This week, however, in her very own yard, Sydney got her snow. God does have a sense of humor.

Speaking of snow, I saw on the news tonight that today, Irvine, CA had a blizzard! And speaking of arctic air, today, P's hometown had the lowest temp in the state at -27.

In other news, today I visited an independent school in a nearby city, in the same association as the school I worked at several years back. It was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, and seeing it was a real treat. I had always wanted a tour, and today I got one! The buildings are in the round and are all connected to one another so that you don't have to go outside to get from place to place. They have a glass blowing studio (one of 4 schools in the nation), and potters wheels in the art room. Being there brought back happy memories. Oh, and did I mention that the school is on the lake, just across the street from the lighthouse? It only adds to the charm. They also have a fieldhouse with a fitness center that all employees get to use for free. I was reminded of the culture of the independent school, where learning how to learn and learning to love learning are just as important as passing tests.

Goulash

Not much to say today, so we'll just have a little beef, potatoes, veggies, and whatever else we can find to throw in the pot...

This is a big weekend, with a youth pastor candidate coming for the final step in the process of being extended a call. P. will be the happiest person on the planet if this process would just come to an end. We've been without a youth pastor for a year and a half and it has added lots of goulash to his plate in the meantime.

My dad sent me an article to comment on regarding some pretty ugly stuff going on in south Texas with illegal immigrants and illegal border guards. I hardly know what to think...my skeptical side never believes unsubstantiated reports of this nature, but like the article pointed out, this is not the kind of stuff you ever see on the news. So what is the answer? Build a really big fence? That's hard to fathom with thousands of miles of borders to protect. I think the first thing we need to do is stop paying for college tuition for illegals in Wisconsin. When they get more assistance than taxpayers, hmmm...am I missing something? Here we've been saving our goulash for years and taking extra jobs to help our kids while they're taking it right off our plates and giving it away. That'll give you indigestion for sure.

Old friends are the best friends. We sure enjoyed seeing T & P this past weekend. They had come to the big city for a little get-away, came to church, and then we went out for lunch. H came along, as she loves T & P just as much as we do. We figured we've been friends for 20 years, since E was in kindergarten. That's a lot of goulash.

Parenting is forever

As I walk down the road of life with my grown kids, I am reminded that parenting is never over. It looks way different from when they were younger, but being there for them is a lifelong calling. I'm thankful for the opportunities we've had to be close - not only in geographic proximity, but more importantly, in matters of the heart.

As H & S prepare for the big move, her dad gets to show his love in a practical way by helping get the house ready to sell. On the docket for our upcoming trip is replacing a window, installing a ceiling fan, and enclosing the basement stairs. I hope to help with the less technical jobs like painting. Believe it or not, I am a "trim" person (not a trim person...I was a trim person...once, a long time ago...) - I really like the detail work and seem to have unlimited patience, which makes P and I a good team. When we paint at home, he does the rolling and I do the cutting. Fortunately, our marriage has survived wallpapering, which requires another kind of patience altogether. But I digress...

Dad was also on hand this past weekend to repair H1's car - bless his heart, in the sub-zero temps, he was out in the garage replacing the fuel pump. Yes, it was the same weather that froze out our beloved Packers at Lambeau Field on Sunday evening (sniff). It was almost too painful to watch...

Aaaanyway, I love it that we have moved from having to be responsible for the way they turn out to just being able to be there for them. I talk to my girls almost every single day on the phone, and while P kids me about that (something about an umbillical cord thing), he knows that I treasure the relationships I have with them. We got H & S a webcam for Christmas and look forward to seeing their faces everyday, especially when they move to the UK. I don't want to miss a milimeter, and the boys are already growing so fast.

Funny grandboy story of the day: The contemporary service at H & S's church meets in the gym. When they took the boys in with them on Sunday, C immediately located all the basketball hoops, and being rather obsessed with balls in general, pointed each one out, saying, "nice...nice...nice...". He had to be removed from the premises as the highschool boys nearby were enjoying his commentary more than the service.

It's a small world after all...

Well, I've been blogging for less than a week and have already missed a day...yesterday I was hungover, and instead of blogging, I was resting, with a weekend seminar facing me. No, no, no...not THAT kind of hangover (worried?). Thursday, after a power walk at the mall, I was hit suddenly with a whopper migraine, and I'm guessing that the way I felt on Friday morning might well mirror what a hangover might feel like. It's only a guess, of course, because I have never HAD a hangover, having never been drunk. Anyway, knowing I had to drive an hour to the expensive, non-refundable seminar, and then sit for four hours Friday night and eight hours Saturday, I opted for the dark quiet room over the keyboard. It was a good decision, and I'm feeling much better today.

And the seminar was really very good - it was on how to help "shepherd" parents, coming alongside them in the more-challenging-than-ever-before task they face.

Equally as interesting as the topic was the amazing "coincidence" I found myself in the middle of. Here I am, having picked this conference at this location on this date, sitting next to another children's minister from another city who happened to choose the same conference on the same date at the same location, and who happened to sit next to me. Chatting a bit, we discovered we had a mutual friend, someone who had previously attended her church and now attends ours. A little later, I happened to mention that my daughter and son-in-law are planning for a move to England.

"Where?" she asked, suddenly interested?
"Oxford," I replied, "and I believe, to a small town called Bicester."
"I've been there!" she said. "I have friends there with Reign Ministries."
"No way!" said I. "That's who they're going with!"
"This is unbelievable!" said she.

Between the mutual friend and the mutual connection with a little city six time zones away, I was blown away by the "coincidence" I was staring at, mouth gaping...I called H & S at the next break, and they were equally blown away - for of all the moments in time, right now, in this place, someone I didn't know from Adam was telling me about her friends, H & S's "supervisor" to be, and today I looked at real pictures of real places and heard a firsthand report of this growing ministry.

Sometimes, when you take a step in faith, God rewards it by making it a little less scary...by putting someone in your path who has walked the road you're about to take and understands where you're going.

Small world, great big God.

Visiting the mission

Today, I visited the rescue mission in our city. A friend of mine from church works there, coordinating all of the volunteers that come in daily to serve food, sort donations, and any number of other tasks. The mission is housed in a massive building that is over 100 years old and has previously been a school, among other things. There are four major ministries, and a number of smaller ones. First, homeless men can come for meals and a place to sleep overnight. They have one huge room with - get this - 250 beds (that's 125 bunk beds). The men come to the intake center with ID, fill out info, etc. They don't take anybody who has been a sex offender or is in trouble with the law. Second, is a longer term program for men, most of whom are addicts, where they come clean, take classes on life skills and bone up on whatever their educational needs demand. They work at the mission while in this program, and are there about a year. Third, there is a place for women and children to stay. They are also provided meals, life skills classes, and help in getting on their feet. Fourth, is a school for K4-3rd graders from the neighborhood. In order to qualify to come to the school, children must come from at-risk situations and meet income requirements.

As it's supposed to be around 0 degrees tonight, I imagine the men's shelter will be completely filled. J. told me that there are homeless men in their program who have never learned to read and others who hold master's degrees. Addictions play a big role in homelessness.

So why did I go? Ever since J. has worked at the mission, I've wanted to see it from the inside. Poverty becomes so much more real, and doing something about it so much more compelling, when you can put a face on it. Today J. & I had lunch with Kathy and her 15 year old daughter Amelia, who recently returned to the area after having lived down south. Kathy has two other adult children who live in GA and FL, and after visiting them for awhile, she and Amelia decided to come back north. Thinking they had accomodations, they made the trip on the bus, only to discover once they got here their plans had fallen through. Kathy made some phone calls and secured them a place at the mission. They've been there about a week, and will stay until Kathy can figure out what to do next. Kathy didn't look like she could be over 35 years old. (It takes most women 4-8 months to get through the program, find a job and a place to live.) And she and her precious daughter were so very grateful for the roof over their heads - they share a bedroom and bath with three other moms and their children, so it's not a place you'd want to stay forever, but it beats the streets of winter altogether.

One of the books I've been reading quotes passage after passage of Scripture concerning our responsibility to the poor - I think I'll look them all up when I'm done with the book.

This one's for you, Mom

Well, today is one of those marathon days and there is only enough time to either answer my Mom's email personally or do it here. I decided to comment here, so in case my other reader was puzzled by my cynicism, too, I could kill two birds with one stone.

My point was just that in an election year certain politicians (in particular, the two who have been exchanging blows over this issue) are trying as hard as they can to distance themselves from the war. And that their only real concern is getting elected, not the principles that led us to war in the first place.

And my other (implied) point was that election years bring out the worst cynic in me and make me generally crabby.

Thanks, Mom, for reading me and for calling me on it.

Is it 2009 yet?

Be not dismayed - this will not become a political blog. But on the way to work this morning, while listening to NPR, I couldn't help feeling rather bemused by the commentary. Obama and Clinton slapping each other upside the head, each attacking the other's early position on the war. We all know that after 911 the politically correct stance was a nationalistic, patriotic, God Bless America, let's go get 'em posture. Supporting the war had nothing to do with values or freedom for oppressed Iraqis, it was politically prudent. When things didn't quite go as planned in Iraq, the rules suddenly changed, and the tunes changed, and getting out ASAP became the cry of the day. Now, the Democrats can't blame each other fast enough for their early support. How silly.

This kind of silliness is precisely why I have a serious distaste for election years.

Like a Blank Page

This morning, rather at the last minute, I realized that my calendar for the week includes a conference on Friday and Saturday. And seeing that I only have to put in 20 hours each week, this realization means that I GET TO STAY HOME TODAY!!! So, having a free day you did not expect is sort of like having a blank piece of paper in front of you and trying to figure out what to write. There is no lack of possibility, from doing some overdue closet organizing to doing some writing, to planning a quilt (2 on the docket for grad gifts). The danger of a block of unplanned anticipated free time is the paralyzing indecision of how to spend it well, ultimately resulting in a squandered day. While a little squandering never hurt anybody, I would like to have SOMETHING to show for this day...

Grandboy story of the day: Last week, C. took a tumble down the basement stairs. Toddlers are amazingly resilient, and while he sported a goose egg on his head and a few bruises, he was none the worse for wear, and was back to jumping off the couch within minutes. But he DOES remember...yesterday, he walked over to the door to the basement (which, by the way was safely latched), touched the door, said, "owie", and ran away. Maybe he'll make it to his second birthday afterall...

Letting Go

Today was a hard day for H & S. They told the parents and students in their youth group of their plans to go to England for missionary work and graduate school. Many tears were shed, and
they were affirmed, and by the time they got home they were exhausted from the emotion of it all.

I was reminded, hearing H share how it all went, that parents have to start learning to let go very early on. It began the first time H said, "no - I do it myself" and now that she is grown with children of her own, I still have to let go. My eyes well up just thinking about putting their precious family on a plane and watching them fly away...but I know in my heart that she is not mine to hold onto; they belong to God and He has His own plan for them.

And so, as of today, the letting go has begun once again. Like H said, now that the news is out, there is no turning back. It's a little overwhelming, especially when one considers what has to happen between now and the time they leave (fixing up a house in sore need of fixing up in order to sell it, fundraising, sorting, pitching, and storing belongings, etc...). And they are looking at a 6-month window of time. Makes me tired just thinking about it.

Dear God, please help me to come to you with open hands, not fists tightly clenched. Please help me to let them go with a joyful heart.

On a totally unrelated note, the Packers will be playing the Giants at home, which is good news for us (Sorry, Dad! I couldn't really root for Dallas this time.) C & E learned a new word yesterday during the Packer game and called to say it to Grammie and Papa - "touchdown!". H says they even raise their arms in the air. It seems their language grows exponentially by the day as their vocabulary increases. E melted his Auntie H's heart on the phone yesterday by saying, "yuv u feffer!".

They Say It All

See the addition of the quotes on the sidebar. These are some of the things that are grabbing me from "Irresistable Revolution", and just by reading these quotes, one can begin to understand the flavor of the book. Which is, we, who call ourselves Christians yet ignore the poverty around us, should stop to ask ourselves what it really means to be a Christian.

There is more than one kind of poverty. Here in our metropolis, in the heart of the midwest in January, homeless people are huddled together for warmth, surviving on whatever food they can find. In the suburbs, people like me are warm and (over)fed and many are spiritually impoverished, caring not for the needs of the hungry in their own city. This has described me for too long, and I am pondering what I, being only one person, can do to help.

Yesterday, over coffee, P. did not merely glaze over as I tried to articulate these thoughts. Rather, he validated them (which felt darn good) and encouraged me to try to find a way to make a difference. I have somehow thought that P. & I had to share every passion. I'm not sure that was ever true, but having his support in something even though he does not share the same depth of feeling makes me smile.

Habits

Writing is a discipline that requires a certain amount of planning, but sometimes it just takes on a life of its own. When I wrote a weekly column, it wasn't until crunch time that the creative juices finally started to flow. I would like to begin this new year by writing every day. Some days, no doubt, will be the result of thoughtful planning (like maybe a miniseries), and some days, even though it is crunch time, I'll probably sit at the keyboard with nothing to say and wait and see what happens.

It has been a quiet day, punctuated by the purchase of a few new fish for our tank, and a trip to the local coffee shop for quiet conversation. I have been reading a most thought provoking book entitled "Irresistable Revolution", which was a Christmas gift (actually for P, not me). I was telling P about it, over a cup of carmello, and it wasn't really until that moment that I realized that the passion of the writer is having a profound impact on me...now that's good writing. But beyond the author's engaging style, it is his message that grips me. It's one of those things that keeps popping up and hitting me (I'm starting to feel like a whack-a-mole) in various situations and contexts. Okay, God, I'm listening! I think this will be a good place to process the thoughts that are *percolating* (well, we were drinking coffee...), and to see where they lead.

And so, until tomorrow, I'll leave off with the first *uh-huh* moment (that's a head nod, as opposed to an *aha* light bulb moment) that came with the description of "spiritual bulimia", a gorging on all things Christian followed by vomiting them up before they have a chance to digest. Claiborne writes: "I was marked by an overconsumptive but malnourished spirituality, suffocated by Christianity but thirsty for God."

First Post

In a world where it's all been said before, one questions the wisdom of thinking that any of it needs to be regurgitated. But like a cow who chews it up more than once, I guess there's room for second (or tenth) considerations, and it certainly helps me in my own "digestion" to process aloud. And although blogging is "public", whether anybody reads me besides me is sort of moot, because once the destination is decided, life is about the journey anyway.