Life is Deep.....Jump In!

Jess's thoughts on Grace, Gambling and Gobble Gobble

2011-11-24T08:56:00.012-05:00

So once again, my well-laid plans to sleep in were thwarted by a feline who is under the false impression that he needs to make sure we know when the sun is about to come up. So as to ensure that the "stupendous Chef of all things Thanksgiving" wakes well rested, I took the bullet and tended to the one known as Maximus... or when annoyed with him... Maxine.

Those morning hours, when the house is still asleep, are some of my favorites. The stillness is rare. I rather enjoy it. I have found myself contemplative in the quietness this morning... feeling the fullness of the day ahead. Soon these rooms will fill with aromas from the culinary master I married some 20 years ago... sleepy young men will pry themselves from their beds just in time for a little lunch... my husband and sister will bicker in the kitchen over whether the cranberry relish needs more sugar... Grandma will join us later with the holy grail of desserts - raisin squares... the faithful canine will sit dutifully, prepared to clean up the floors the moment anything decends upon them... perhaps a family foosball tournament will ensue and if we're lucky, a family poker game will add a little redneck gambling to our Turkey day.

An awareness of the bounty that fills my life emerges... not because it's Thanksgiving, but because it's Thursday and my life is full of good things and people I love. Don't get me wrong... some things in my life are pretty messy. Living in this home of ours requires a boatload of grace, patience and forgiveness... unfortunately, we aren't always careful with each other. We are impatient, sarcastic, selfish and sometimes just mean. I think God's idea of family was to give us a place to just be who we are. To be our messy, transparent selves... and still be loved by people who will speak the truth to us and give us needed perspectives on the parts of ourselves we can't see so clearly. After all, we are all on our own journey of discovering who we are and who we want to become.

We come and go from this place every day, each to our own worlds that are both kind and cruel. It is my hope that our home is also a soft place to fall when life has opened a can of whoop ass on us... a place where we can love and be loved, however imperfectly... a place we can take risks, breathe deeply, laugh loudly and find rest when we are weary.
So today, join me in inviting grace to be a guest at your Thanksgiving table. Hug those imperfect people you love and forgive the ones who piss you off... and feel free to steal our tradition and add gambling to your Thanksgiving tradition!

(It's probably time to wrap this up anyway... finding it hard to concentrate with Scott and Julie already bickering in the kitchen - this time both in the voice of Gloria from "Modern Family".)

Happy Thanksgiving~

A snapshot of Heaven...

2011-11-14T13:56:00.004-05:00

There are moments, I think, that are snapshots of heaven. They are sometimes in a quiet, peaceful place, in nature's beauty, in the smell of a newborn, or in the self-less loving of another person, and sometimes, a snapshot of heaven shows up in a stadium full of thousands of self proclaimed band geeks and their parents.

Hope is a funny thing... it's what gives life to dreams and yet it is the very thing that, when deferred, can crush them and sorrow takes it's place. Our little marching band has long hoped for the honor of making finals at the national competition. It has come close, but always, the bus ride home was full of tears and pieces of a broken dream. As freshman, we only know this from the retelling of the heartache of years past... but everyone knows what that feels like... the longing and pursuit of an end that seems to evade you. It's almost cruel. If you have the courage to hope, you have to have the courage to carry the sorrow too... but it's always heavier than you plan for.

There was an unspoken hope in the air as the days led up to Nationals... we, of course, were all so proud of the kids and their hard work. No matter what numbers the six judges jotted down on their scorepads as they experienced our "Winter Solstice", these kids had been successful. They had poured themselves out day after day for countless months, and 260 individuals came together and became a single, beautiful piece of visual and musical art... but that hope lingered in the air. It almost taunted us. We thought we had a chance, but then again, we didn't have the most impartial perspective.

With two performances to be proud of, we collected ourselves and gathered in our own little section of the stadium... band members, parents, grandparent, chaperones and directors all waiting together.... a family of sorts that had formed on this journey. The announcement of the finalist began as expected...many of the schools resuming their status as finalists and whose fans had purchased their finals tickets the same time they bought their prelim tickets. The first ten of the twelve called were really no surprise... and with each announcement the hope in the air seemed to be looking for the exits. Then he announced the 11th Finalist in the Grand Nationals Championship... "William Ma....." honestly, that's all I think any of us really heard. In the blur, I vaguely recall turning and seeing Mr. Bass in the row behind me with his head in his hands and his eyes welling up. I was so happy for him! I looked at my friend who, if we didn't make it, would be picking up the pieces of her daughter's last chance... the exuberance billowing out of her was nothing short of glorious! Barriers collapsed and friends and strangers hugged and screamed and hugged some more! Tears of joy flowed freely as the dam of hope unleashed it's reservoir.

In the midst of all of this, I looked up to see a boy's face searching the sea of unglued parents... when he found the eyes that he new from birth, he bolted down the stairs. Upon reaching her, he burrowed in her shaking arms, clenched his own arms tightly around her and finally, released the floods of emotion that overwhelmed him... between the sobs, I heard him say "We did it." There are no words for what that exchange felt like, but I am certain it was happening all over section 247 of Lucas Oil Stadium.

This moment will forever be frozen in time for me and countless others. It was a capturing of something... the long days and nights, the demands on young bodies, the commitment to a purpose, individuals becoming a part of a whole, the persistent pursuit of an unattained dream, parents making endless sacrifices, directors finding the delicate balance of pushing and affirming, and a rag tag group of kids with the courage to believe it was possible... it had all led to this moment... and it was a beautiful thing to be a part of. It was for me... a little snapshop of heaven.

JD

Jess's thoughts on a couple of boys she thinks are swell...

2011-09-25T07:40:00.011-04:00

So for me, this fall seems to be holding a sort of grand transition... a shift in the grid of my whole world. I have becoming increasingly aware of this as my youngest son Eliot began high school this year. His (and my) summer began with the immersion into the world of Marching Band (plays cymbals in the drumline)... the grueling schedule of Band Camps and rehearsal schedules began long before the school doors opened. The first day of school was an afterthought for him... he went in with more confidence than I have probably ever had in my whole life. He knows who he is, he knows who he's not and he knows he doesn't have to be any different in order to matter. This is remarkable to me in a school of 3500 kids and a subculture of 260 like minded band geeks... his definition, not mine. (If you're wondering, Eliot is on the left side of the picture, 2nd from the top.) I wish you could see him when he's on the field... when they are rallying the crowds, he is oozing with energy, excitement and utter delight! It is unbelievably fun to watch!

In the meantime, my oldest son Gavin began his Senior year. This has been it's own little process of trying to wrap my brain around that. I've tried to stay present and intentional in this matter as it is easy to get overwhelmed by the daunting knowledge that this child we've raised is on the cuspis of becoming a man. One year from now, he will likely live elsewhere. That statement alone brings tears to my eyes. I just can't imagine. As those tears bulge behind my eyeballs, my motherly instincts kick in. I gather my whits about me and ask myself if I have done all I can to equip him for when he stands alone in a world that will not always be on his side.

This season of our life is unique. It is a time of stepping away, while always being there if counsel, insight or direction is needed. I will admit, I have struggled with this... not because I don't trust Gavin, but because this world we live in is often cruel and cares little of others. I've spent his whole life protecting him from the realities of that.. but the time has come for him to find his own way of navigating these things. I believe we have equipped him well. He is a wise young man and walks with a fine balance of caution and playfulness. This would be a signifigantly different experience if this was not the case and for that I'm overwhelmingly grateful. I have been blessed beyond measure in the man that Gavin has become and the friends that God has encircled Gavin with. They are people of character and I love how they love him. I have come to see that they are soft places for him to fall when life's rough edges leave it's cuts and bruises... they are his people... they are his tribe. They are God's way of caring for him when it is time for his mom to step back a bit and let her boy become a man.

As mothers, we pour ourselves into our children. We hope with all that is within us that they will become confident, independant individuals who will move about in the world with kindness and compassion while still carrying with them a pocket full of adventure and fearlessness. What one forgets is that when they do just that... they leave you behind. When they grow... they grow away from you... and as proud as you are to see them doing so, a new longing forms in your soul. A longing for moments that they choose to come back... to play with you... to laugh with you... to share their journey with you again.

I don't think this is what Jesus had in mind...

2011-05-04T23:18:00.007-04:00

I'll begin these series of thoughts by saying that I love Jesus. I try not to be religious and I don't claim to have all the answers, but I am sure that I am broken and need the one who made me, to bind me up and make me whole. It has little to do with religion any more...

The events prompting this post began with a knock on my door. Having seen the two men approaching, I didn't know what to expect... perhaps someone thinking our lawn looked like crap and need their professional touch, maybe some new area take out that was passing out coupons... no, no such luck . The first immediately introduced himself as the Pastor of a church in our area while his sidekick stood silently observing the Jedi ways of his Obi-wan Kenobi. Maintaining a friendly demeanor, I shared that I already had a church I called home. He then tilted his head and said "now does that go beyond being religion, because there are a lot of religious people who ... " He continued with a buffet of well placed Bible verses, sweetly disguised condemnations of my neighbors he'd spoken to and all while quoting Jesus own words about judging someones "fruit" and the ominous reality of hell.

I felt something happen inside of me... a combination of sorrow and fury. I knew that his intentions were good... for many years, so were mine. I was raised to always have an answer and verse to back it up, and getting someone "saved" was the whole point, whatever it took. I sensed a quiet prayer whispering inside of me to keep my own spirit from taking the soapbox and wielding my own light saber of truth on his religious ass. I felt a deep sorrow that the beautiful message of my Jesus who longs to brings hope and wholeness to our broken world, was once again being drowned out by the flood of religious brow beating, justified judgement and horrific scare tactics to usher someone into a religious experience. I listened and let him speak... interjecting when I found something we agreed on. Finally, as he found his way to the end of his bullet points, when I could have said, "thank you... and have a nice day". I didn't.

In a surprisingly gentle manner, I said something like "can I share a few thoughts with you?" The words that followed caught me off guard and are vague to me as I try to recall them. They included a plea to be gentle with people, as our best intentions and the way we cloak them can leave people feeling wounded... sometimes even farther from the One we want them to see. I encouraged them to remember that God is the only one who can truly see the heart of another and perhaps these assessments are best left to Him. He really doesn't need our help.

As they walked toward their church van bursting with more young Jedi's, I hoped. I hoped that God was bigger than the clubs they carried. I hoped that my own truths of how I see Jesus do not take the form of clubs as I converse with people who see things in a different light. I hoped that we will be as intentional about wanting God to change us daily as we are about wanting him to change others. I hoped that my neighbors weren't wounded by any of those clubs... and if you were, I'm sorry for that. I don't think that's what Jesus had in mind.

Merry Christmas of 2010 by Jess

2010-12-25T22:33:00.005-05:00

I really love giving gifts. I love the experience of giving someone unguarded laughter in a gift that brings them joy... or watching them become speechless as they discover a gift that they couldn't have dreamed of receiving... or watching them physically leap in delight of a wish that's been granted or seeing tears that creep into their eyeballs because their heart is simply overwhelmed with gratitude.
I was blessed today to be the giver and receiver of such gifts. My mom got giddy when she saw a card that would pay for the movies she loves to go see... a theater is a friend she simply delights in. Gavin jumped off the couch when he got a thing for his xbox that will let him play video games with his cousin who lives in another state. Scott cried when two large bags of gift were dumped in front of him and he was told that none of them were for him to open, but rather to deliver later in the day to the less fortunate kids he'd met delivering turkey's to at Thanksgiving. I cried (okay... I blubbered and it wasn't pretty!) over handwritten notes from my kids that were and always will be simply priceless.
Eliot got an early present a couple of weeks ago when through the wily ways of his mom, he was able to meet his all time favorite musician... he simply could not fathom it was really happening. Being the giver of that gift was one of the best moments of my life. I couldn't help but think that must be how God sees us... knowing us intimately because He thought us each up in the first place! and longing to delight us in ways that we can't even imagine possible! I can just imagine Him saying "oh wow! I just can't wait 'til she sees what I've been working on for her!" I wonder if He ever wants to jump out of His socks with excitement for me like I did that day for Eliot. I hope my heart never stops bursting with gratitude for the kindness that my Father in heaven pours over me every day... in the things I see and in the things I don't.
This day of gift giving was fan-flippin-tastic! We needed nothing but were blessed by much... some in the giving and some in the receiving. Merry Christmas 2010!

Chair thoughts

2010-12-14T08:07:00.005-05:00

I'm sitting in my living room under my toasting warm blanket while the fireplace breathes it's warmth beside me and the lights of our simple primitive Christmas tree are reflecting on my laptop. It's quiet. As much as I love the silly banter of boys becoming men and the strangely odd exchanges fathers and sons have of connecting (I mean titty twister wars! really!?), when they all go to school and work, the stillness that falls over this place invites me to soak it in. We have this great leather armchair in the corner of our living room with a big ole' foot rest... throw in the heated throw and the fireplace and we are talking a done deal. It stills me... it stills my core. In this moment, I feel content in my spirit... deep down. Whatever list awaits me, whatever things need to get done... they can wait.

It's inevitable. As I sit here, prayers come. Whispers to God for people I love... and people I don't. It's hard watching people struggle, be weary. It's hard to not try to fix it. So I talk with God about them. He already knows how heavy their hearts are and how deep their sorrows burrow...He knows their unspoken and unarticulated reasons for being less than happy. So I will whisper their name with Him, asking on their behalf that He, the life giving author of their very being, would stir in them the longing to lean in towards their Father and ask Him to lift their countenance. To heal them... to bring them back to life...abundant life...wholeness...contentment.

J.

Teaching Moments

2010-12-12T17:15:00.003-05:00

I had a few events in my life collide in the past couple weeks that have made me stop and ponder. The kind of events that need to happen on a more frequent basis to constantly remind me.

The week before Thanksgiving, my youngest son, Eliot, and I delivered complete Thanksgiving dinners to a couple families in the Cincinnati suburbs who were in need. The families we visited were struggling to make ends meet, pay bills, take care of kids, and find jobs. One had just taken in a foster baby and were planning on eating cold cuts for Thanksgiving without the assistance.

On the way home from making these deliveries, we saw a young woman pull over on the side of the road. Moments earlier, a tire blew out and she barely escaped a major accident and bodily injury. In her words, she thought she was going to die. She already had her spare tire on her car on another wheel so she was stuck and in need. I offered to drive her somewhere so she could get help from friends or family. She asked if we could take her to her work, where a friend would let her borrow a spare tire until she was able to buy a tire. While talking with her, I learned that she just bought the tire that blew out a couple weeks earlier...for only $20 (probably an old retread for that price). It was all she had and she needed to get back and forth to work. When I got her to her workplace, I asked if she needed any money to help in getting a new tire since she wasn't going to get paid for awhile. She immediately said, "No, I could never ask you for money. You have already helped me a lot". I could see she needed the money but was too respectful to ask. I reached into my pocket, not knowing how much I had on me, and gave her the $30 that was there. She couldn't believe it, started to cry, and reached across the center console in the car to give me a hug. She was speechless. She said that she couldn't understand how a total stranger could stop and help her in such a way. She was deeply touched. I told her that God apparently had His eye on her, and to not forget that.

The whole time (in fact, the whole day), my son is watching this all play out. A great teaching moment!

Last weekend, I went to a AA hockey game here in Cincinnati (The Cyclones) with Eliot and a friend. It was a first for Eliot and me. Eliot is a huge sports fan and was actually more interested in seeing fights on the ice than seeing a Cyclone's win (and he was rewarded). The Cyclones have this sweet deal - if they score in the first period and keep the other team scoreless, everyone in attendance gets a free chili from Wendy's. Well...the Cyclones came through and we were the recipients of free chili (actually a coupon for the free chili).

As with every sporting event in Cincinnati, since the stadiums and arena are located downtown, you are hit head-on with the homeless in the city whenever you leave an event. They are sitting at all the exits with their signs asking for money.

Last weekend was no different. As we left to make our way to the parking garage, there they were. We passed one man asking for money. It was extremely cold this night and I could not imagine living on the street on a night like this, and wondering where my next meal would come from. We all saw him. The three of us knew what he was asking for. And then the my son blows me away.

Eliot, who had his free chili coupon in his hand, asked if he could run back and give the homeless man his free chili. And he did just that. My son just fed the needy. He just helped a man he didn't know, but knew of his circumstances. He loved a stranger. He shared his food with the hungry.

He made me very proud. What a great teaching moment from my son.

And then my friend and pastor, Joe Boyd, teaches on a non-traditional Christmas story (https://vinenet.net/vincin/lastweek.php?weekend=101212&#vid). The fact that Christ came to not only save the lost, but to meet the needs of the poor. I encourage you to watch this. It's powerful. Thanks, Joe, for the teaching moment!

I am reminded again this season of just how much I have. There is nothing I need. I do not go without anything. If there is something I need, I get it. I know I frustrate my family when I tell them to not get anything for me for Christmas, but it's true. There are so many others who have legit needs - food, clothing, help with rent or a car repair, or a medical bill, etc. I encourage us all to give to those with the greatest needs more than those who already have an abundance. And then let's not limit it to this time of year, but work to make it a lifestyle. We can change the world!

"Small things done with great love will change the world" - Mother Theresa

Burst of Gratitude!

2010-11-25T08:19:00.003-05:00

I'm not a big fan of Holidays... they feel over rated. Thanksgiving is on the list, but that could have something to do with me not having any delight in cooking nor actually favoring the flesh of a turkey (but the yummy potatoes taking a bath in peppered butter redeems that aspect). Anyway, it's another reason I have to clean my house, and since I don't cook, I clean (another of my not so favorite things to do). Regardless of my lack of adoration for the day itself, I find myself fully aware of how much I have to be grateful for... so I have decided to honor those things and speak them out loud.

I am thankful for/that...
the life I have gotten to live - for others, it's been cut short
discovered passions - they make me breathe deeply and refresh me
when I was a girl, I chose Scott to be my husband
a comfortable home for our family and friends
Julie and the yummy meals she makes, as well as the wise counsel she often has
God not only designed me but made a way for me to engage with Him
people I've hurt have forgiven me
potatoes
new days that become fresh starts
friends that really know me and still love me like crazy
copic markers
that Scott's dad got to be my dad before heaven had to take him back
my cleaning fairy
electric blankets when even your bones are cold!
the simple kindnesses that are often shown to me
Thursday volleyball
the ability to play Thursday volleyball
old hymns
that Gavin and Eliot are my sons
the honor of the friendships I've made with the senior residents at the Barrington
Warner Chilcott and their separation package
Scott's P&G job
MSG (some people have small groups, we have Medium Size Group)
Nitrous Oxide and Dr. Nymberg
the piano I've dreamed of all my life now sits in my living room
fuzzy slippers and fireplaces
Kaden and Max
the loft and the endless possibilities that it holds
poker and friends I love to play it with
seeing my kids discover their passions and pursuing them
that Joe can teach about God's heart in a way that seeps into me
music - it reaches the spots where there's not room for words
the 30% off Kohls coupon
Debbie's voice messages
laughter

I know there are countless more... but I've got things to do people! Make your own list and post it. Perhaps our bursts of gratitude will remind someone else of some of the things they've forgotten to be thankful for... or theirs will remind us of some things we need to have gratitude for and not take for granted.
Lastly, "Thank you God, that you love us more than we can imagine and that all that we could possibly write on a list is because of your kindness to us. You are good beyond measure!"

An open letter to God...

2010-07-03T07:53:00.004-04:00

Dear God,
Thank you for making us and this beautiful planet we live on. In spite of the fact that you knew we'd screw up so much of everything (okay, practically everything) that you made with no flaws to speak of. If it was me, I'd have probably pulled the whole flood things multiple times by now... but you and your rainbow promises - you keep 'em. You're awfully patient.
Really sorry about the whole screwin' up things... I mean, really sorry. You planned it all out so perfect and for everything to have it's balance and rhythm, then we get all smarty pants and go and mess it all up... like we know more than you. No excuses, we're just dumb... and on behalf of all of us, "I'm sorry".

How come you did it though? Why? When you knew what jackasses we'd be to you and each other? I guess you must have thought we were worth it...I guess that's how I feel about my own kids. No matter what they do, they are mine. They are my heart outside of my own body and whether they do or not, I long for them to love me and be with me. Is that how you feel? I'm sorry that some days I even forget to tell you hello. You really deserve more than being forgotten about. I will try to remember that...

By the way, since you know everything 'n all. I have a few friends that I wanted to talk to you about. I'll spare names since you know 'em already. My friend whose heart is really hurting, would you please nuzzle a little closer to her today... so she can feel ya'. Sometimes we need to feel you or we have a hard time believing you're really there. And my other friend who's got the weight of the world on his shoulders... would you come alongside him and hold him up? He needs to know you've got his back. My other friend is really weary and just needs some hope. Can you remind her that you are bigger than all these things that she's tempted to believe she's at the mercy of. And my friend who is feeling lost... maybe even feeling all the things mentioned above but can't quite figure out why. Would you smother them in that peace you say doesn't make sense to us but is the only kind you bother with.

Thanks for listening and caring. Thank you for not being that God I grew up believing you were. Thanks for wanting to make us whole and mend our broken places. Thanks for leaning into us when we keep walking away. Thanks for being kind and not giving us what we deserve. Thanks for not holding all our failures against us. Thanks for believing in us and wanting more for us than we even want for ourselves. Thanks for changing us when we become willing to let you. You really are good and I love you.

By the way, thanks for the friends you've given me. They are a gift I have no suitable words to thank you for.

Love,
Jess

What Jess has to say today...

2010-05-24T09:21:00.001-04:00

It's rare. Sometimes I have something to say and I do so in a blog... but not today. Today... I've got nothin'.

Happy Women's Day by Jess

2010-05-07T17:47:00.010-04:00

One and a half months ago, my mom moved to Mason. One and a half weeks ago, my older sister Jennifer moved to Mason. One and a half weeks from now, my younger sister Julie will move to Mason. Some of you might be having sympathy for me... some of you are jealous. Those of you who are jealous... should be.

I hit the jackpot on families... not just with Scott, Gavin and Eliot, but with the women I have grown up with. Don't get me wrong... a fair amount of those years we have wanted to find creative ways of killing each other. We have despised each other with the same passion with which we have loved each other... fiercely.

We often speak about the unique entity that we are... this circle of women bound by blood... bound by the history we share... bound by the commitment we have to each other. We comfort each other, we push each other, we challenge each other, we believe for each other. When one of us is weary, the others step in and lift us up with words that we can hear through the fog. When one of us can't see the light, the others put light on the single step in front of us. When one of us is lost, we remind each other that we're not alone... however lost we feel. For all the times we fight each other, we will always, eventually, fight for each other. It's a messy bond we have... full of history that has battered and bruised us, but never broken us.

I will forever be a better woman for the influence that my mom, Jennifer and Julie have had on my life. They have forced me to see myself honestly, sometimes harshly and sometimes with a whisper. They have wounded me with their sharp edges and they have bound up my wounds with their compassion. They have taught me to grant grace as often as possible because holding onto it accomplishes nothing. They have shown me the value of honesty and the definition of courage. They have made me believe that I am more than I believe I am. They have been there when I have laughed the loudest and cried the hardest. They are my heroes. They are my heart. They are my mom and my sisters.

Jess's thoughts on February...the month of the Valentine

2010-02-06T14:33:00.005-05:00

So I haven't blogged in a long while. I envy those of you who are faithful in doing so. I love opening my blogger dashboard to see who has what to say... and everything is paused for a moment so I can taken in your monologue in hopes of knowing you better somehow for having read it. The problem is, then I feel like I know you better but you don't know me any better... leads to awkward moments somewhere down the road.

I rarely write... not because I don't have anything to say, but because I think what I write has to be a certain way. I get caught up in wanting the collection of my thoughts to be articulate and form a well written piece. I over think it way too much. I want it to always be my best, and like anything I suppose, my best takes me time and a lot of thought. I wonder how much of this very text will get backspaced, rewritten or deleted completely. I wish I could let that go. I'm going to try... so here goes.

It's February... that month that about 14 days into it requires you to declare your love for the one you're enamored with (yes, I just opened a new tab and checked my spelling on enamored on Dictionary.com... it's correct). I use to go to Hallmark and try to find just the right card because I felt the day should be acknowledged with at least a nice card. I would literally stand there sifting through one after another and say things like "really?" or "you gotta' be kidding me" or "palease!". It was really quite laughable. I guess I've become a bit of a cynic. Thank God I discovered my love of card designing because now the idea of spending money on a store bought card is beyond all reasoning. Now I make my own and say just what I mean. This year's card might say something like this...
"I will be nicer to your cat because I love you."
Happy Valentine's Day

Yes, we have a cat now. He's no longer on a trial basis. He's a Docherty. An act of God occurred when Scott connected with this cat in a PetSmart over Christmas break. With reluctance, I didn't say no because I saw something in Scott change. This dog person had to become willing to figure out how to be a cat person. We now own things like silly string toys, flea medicines, multiple boxes for excrement, a black light (to find the whizzing areas) and have doubled our Vet bills.

I think love takes funny forms. I didn't want a cat... at all. Sometimes loving something or someone that someone else loves is just as important. The cat, otherwise known as Maximus, needed to be loved. Scott loved him first. I already loved Scott... so maybe, just maybe, someday... this dog person will love a cat.

Happy Valentine's Month... love someone in a way that you'll never find described in a Hallmark card.

Please excuse my momentary pity party...

2009-09-30T10:34:00.003-04:00

Some days that are really busy and overwhelming, don't you sometimes wish you could just be a little sick so you could just curl up on your couch and catch up on all of the shows you've recorded... people cater to you because you're in such a pitiful state... offer to bring you things and sometimes even fluff your pillow... you can completely veg without anyone thinking less of you because, well, you're sick.

Well,not only am I really sick... I'm really sick of my couch and I am sooooo tired of watching tv. It got so bad that I moved around furniture yesterday so I could sit at the computer comfortably and ended up playing online poker for at least 6 hours! (Doubled my money by the way!) I'm grateful for people's willingness to bring me what I need but it sucks that when you feel like crap, you don't even want anything.

The other thing about being sick is it's lonely. You get quarantined to a section of the house and you stay there...alone. Not that you want anyone there when you're barfing or disgusting things continue to come out of your nose, but you do... you wish someone could just sit with you in your misery. The other night, my body revolted on a cough spray I'd just taken and well... without going into detail, it was really gross. My kind husband descended into my despair and without a word or breath of disgust, he cleaned it all up. I really appreciated that. Really alot.

So maybe from now on, if I want to veg I just will. Being sick sucks. I miss being in the same room as my family. I miss getting dressed. I miss going places and doing things. In the meantime, I'm going to play some more online poker... they don't cringe when I blow my nose or get sick when I cough on them there.

18 and counting...

2009-07-07T08:22:00.009-04:00

Scott and I honored 18 years of married life yesterday. He took the day off and we just spent it together doing this life that God's given us. We went to the grocery store together where he got to see first hand how the grocery bill can be so big so easily, then took the boys swimming and we basked in the sun while they bickered endlessly. We then went home and took naps before going out to a delicious dinner at Longhorn Steakhouse where the Parmesan Crusted Chicken is delectable and the dessert in the form of a mountain of chocolate cake with 7 kinds of chocolate isn't so bad either! The bill was covered by a gift card from his company honoring Scott's hard work... which made it even more delicious. We rounded out the evening sitting around our fire pit in the night air with our boys...talking and saying nothing at all.

I can't help but look back at the 18 years that Scott and I have lived this life together and wonder how we have made it this far. Scott grew up in a family where staying together was just what you do... I grew up seeing relationships scattered in broken pieces around me. It's not always been easy. Like all marriages, we have loved deeply and wounded even deeper.

Eighteen years ago, I was a 20 year old bride with stars in my eyes for a boy who loved and adored me like no other had and I was smitten. I'm not that same girl anymore though. I get really ornery sometimes. I get mad and scrappy when I feel disrespected. I'm not as shapely as I use to be... although round is a shape. I can be harsh, guarded, skeptical and unafraid to stand up for myself.
That said. I am blessed beyond measure that this boy not only loved me, but loved God and cared about the things God cares about. His heart would continue to desire to honor God and as a result, he continues to honor me and the vows our young hearts made so many years ago. Because some days, the easiest thing to do would be to find something better... easier... prettier... more fun. But that's not what love does...
It holds on when you feel like letting go. It forgives offenses and grants grace to the offender.... knowing well, that one day, you will need the same forgiveness and the same grace in return.

I'm still learning to believe that we will be old together... but I believe it more each day. History has shown me that people can stay together for a lifetime but many simply don't choose to do so. I'm learning that there are warriors that guard fragile marriages... forgiveness, grace, kindness, laughter, playfulness and an unwavering commitment to always be willing to be a participant in all of the above at any moment.

So Scott, thank you for choosing me to be your wife all those years ago, and for continuing to choose me in all the days that have and will follow... for better or worse... for all the days of our life. I love you... I'd still choose you and I look forward to being old, sagging, wrinkly lovers!

An abundant life...

2009-06-05T22:41:00.003-04:00

I really like my life.
I live in a house that makes me feel safe, creative and overwhelmingly comfortable.

I live in a neighborhood where people not only know each other, but we really like each other and enjoy being together.

I live in a family that I really love. I would still, after all of these 18 years, choose Scott... to be the one I sleep and wake with all the days of my life. My two boys, Gavin and Eliot, are becoming men that I am proud to say are my sons... they, I believe, make this world a better place for their kindness, courteousness, respect, playfulness and friendship.

I live in community with friends that I love like family and family that I love like friends. These kind souls who cradle my truest self with such strength and gentleness... it is my honor to love them and my pleasure to play with them.

I live this life so abundant with gratitude and awe. I'm learning to breathe deeply and bask in the goodness... trusting the One who thought of me, shaped me and pours His kindness and grace over me.

You Say Tornado Warning... I Say Party!

2009-05-31T06:34:00.014-04:00

So what do you do during a Tornado Warning/Watch? Some just hide in the basement 'til the "all clear" is given... not us.

We made an evening of it... some of us tried to will the Cavaliers

to a Game 7...

Some grew faint in the pursuit of NBA glory

and cranked up a great game of Twister!

Unfortunately, a few more of us grew distracted from the pursuit of NBA glory and started giving airplane rides!

From the most pitiful bucket of 10 piece chicken to the groans of defeat for our Cavaliers...

"de-feet"

...with siren warnings and monsoons surrounding our little home, a great time was had by all! How great to have friends and family, young and old... and it's hard to tell the difference!

All Because of a Cheese Stick

2009-05-25T23:50:00.005-04:00

It's been seven months that this blog has had the name 'Scott and Jess' attached to it and I think it's fine time that the Jess in the equation brings something to the table. Today seems to be a fine day to do so. So here goes.

I had a moment in Target today. I generally have moments in Target on a slightly regular basis as I rather enjoy the color red and the vast amount of red stickers that appear in departments I like to peruse. However, this moment stood out among them.

As I checked out with my red stickered Hershey Kisses, Xbox 360 Scene It game and Ice cream cones (all of course, at a fraction of their original prices!), I included an empty wrapper from a cheese stick that I'd devoured in the dairy isle in an attempt to stave off a sure hunger headache! I explained this empty wrapper to the scruffy looking college boy who was scanning my items to which he then said, "You could have just tossed it... no one would ever know."
I replied with a sheepish smile, "Well, God would know and I guess that just matters to me."

I'm not sure I was supposed to hear what he said next or if it was a bait to continue the banter but he spoke quietly... "oh, you're one of those." It caught me off guard. I knew right away who "those" were that he was speaking of. Those people who use God and His words to shame & condemn others... people who beat broken people with spiritual sticks... all in Jesus name.

A reply came with ease, much to my surprise. "I know some of those people too" I said, "They say they are God's kids but they don't act like it. I don't want to be one of those." He proceeded to say "They always want to debate me... the Buddhist. They don't like me." As I signed my bill for the above mentioned bargains, I looked at him and smiled. "I don't need to debate you... I'm sure I'd like you and I'm pretty sure God does too." As I took my bags to leave, he looked me square in the eye and with an awkward thumbs up said "You... are okay."

I left that little red heaven knowing that something had just happened. I wondered if God might have just caught that boy off guard for a moment. I left wondering if I was one of the first of God's kids that he'd ever said that to. I wondered just how badly he'd been beaten by some of those spiritual clubs that are carried with such justification. I wondered why God let's broken people claim to represent Him in such reprehensible ways.
Maybe for the same reason He let this broken person be a part of that moment. Because just sometimes, through all the garbage, someone can see Him... in a little moment in the Target checkout line.

Reset #2 - "Fair" is Over-Rated

2009-03-03T22:03:00.006-05:00

I think it is fairly unanimous that we would all agree that life is not fair.

People cut in front of us in line, our neighbors win the lottery, our friend gets two more weeks of vacation than we do...and we've been working longer, countless people have way more stuff (and cooler stuff) than we do, she is thinner than I am, he is taller than I am, they have a bigger house, they lost a child, he has cancer, I'm in a wheelchair....yatta, yatta, yatta. The list goes on. Life is not fair.

Thank God!

This is my second "reset" perception.

For me, the problem with fairness was that I always looked at what I didn't have, what I didn't get, what was out of reach. I was the "victim" of "not fair". But this past week, it was like I became aware of the other side of the coin. It's all relative. I may be aware of all the "things" that I see as not fair to me, but there are countless people who look at me and my life and say "It's not fair" that I have what I have. I saw all the instances of being the "recipient" of "not fair".

One side of the coin revels all the stuff I lack (unfair), but the other side of the same coin reveals all the stuff I have (fair). And you can't split the coin - it is whole. You get both sides.

Funny how we never complain about the "fair" things in our lives. No one ever says, "It's just not right that I have the sailboat", or "It's not fair that my kids are so healthy". We take the fair stuff for granted. But heaven forbid something happen to our sailboat or kids and all of a sudden it's "not fair".

Let's be honest - it's all grace. Undeserved, unmerited favor in God's eyes. Jesus wasn't fair. He gave forgiveness when we all deserved punishment. He gave life when we all deserved death. He gave mercy when we least deserved it.

So I challenge us all - begin to view your life as a glass half-full rather than half-empty and reset your perception of "fair".

Sound fair? Good!

Leper Humor

2009-02-27T12:32:00.001-05:00

Reset - Initial Thoughts

2009-02-24T22:26:00.007-05:00

So I started reading Luke.

Did you? You were suppose to do this with me. And when you read it, try to read it like it is the first time you have ever read it. Don't jump ahead and say, "Yea, yea...I know this part." Read with fresh eyes.

I've only gotten to Chapter 5 and already have some questions. In fact, I have already bumped up against one of my perceptions of Jesus.

Scene 1
Early in His ministry, Jesus goes down to Capernaum to teach (Luke 4:31). While there, he draws attention, people are amazed, and Jesus becomes the talk of the town. He escapes to Simon's house for the evening. Simon's mother-in-law is sick with a high fever and Jesus heals her. She is so completely recovered, that she immediately gets up and begins to get dinner for them. Well, this gets everyone pretty jazzed and the hoards come from everywhere to get a piece of the healing action. During the chaos that must have been playing out, demons are cast out right and left, screaming, "You are the Son of God", but Jesus shuts them up because they knew too much, knew him to be the Messiah (Luke 3:41). What's up with that?

Scene 2
A few days later, in another town, a man with leprosy comes across Jesus and begs him to be healed. Jesus heals the man immediately, but tells the man not to tell anyone (Luke 5:14). Again, what's up with that?

Scene 3
A few days later, Jesus is teaching and another crowd gathers (he is quickly becoming one popular dude). A group of guys who have a crippled friend try to get their friend close enough to Jesus to be healed, but the crowd was too large. These are determined and ingenious guys, so they get their friend on the roof, cut a hole in the roof, and lower their friend down right in front of Jesus. Jesus is so impressed by the crippled man's friends that he forgives the man's sins (this incident warrants another discussion, but not right now). The religious scholars and leaders of the day get ticked off and ask Jesus who he thinks he is, forgiving sins. They say only God can do that. Jesus replies, "What's easier for me to say? 'I forgive your sins', or 'Get up and start walking'? So Jesus turns to the crippled man and says, "Get up". The man does and walks home with his bed roll.

Wait a minute. Do you see what has me puzzled? In the two prior scenes, Jesus makes a point of keeping his identity hidden. Secret. But in the final scene, he makes a point to identify himself to the crowd, and more importantly, to the Pharisees, as the Son of Man, who has authority to forgive sins and heal. And he not only identifies himself, he does it in such a way that he almost expects them to draw conclusions about who he is.

You see, one of my perceptions was that Jesus came to earth and lived among us to be known. But did he? Was this really why he came? Did he want to be known as the Messiah? If so, why didn't he shout it from the streets and tell everyone he met?

If you are married or have a significant other, you are not with that person because they told you at some point in your relationship that you were suppose to be their spouse. In fact, that would have turned you off. You would have run the other way as fast as you could. If you follow someone as a leader or mentor, or have someone that you admire, you are not drawn to them because they told you how wonderful they are. You discovered that for yourself, through getting to know them, learning about them, about what they like and don't like, about who they really are, through their actions, speech, and life.

I think that's just what Jesus does. I think Jesus is more interested in seeing what conclusions we draw about who he is, rather than tell us who he is. He wants to leave the discovery up to us. And it's a discovery that lasts a lifetime.

I'm interested in your thoughts, ideas, perceptions. Join in the discussion. Let's "Reset" together.

Reset

2009-02-23T22:24:00.005-05:00

We are embarking on an experiment in our church. For the next 6 weeks, we are going to try to "reset" our perceptions of Jesus.

The cool thing (and there is more than one cool thing) is that about 40 other churches in the Cincinnati area are embarking on this experiment with us (or us with them).

Here' the premise: We all have perceptions of Jesus. Some of them might be accurate. Most of them are way off base. Hey...don't get offended. I'm included in that statement. Be honest. We're human - He's God. It's pretty presumptuous to assume we "get" what He is and was all about.

I would love for you to join me on this experiment. Let's share what we are learning and the questions we find ourselves asking. Nothing is off limits. Throw away your preconceived ideas of who you think Jesus was/is. Forget what you learned in Sunday School. Forget what your pastor/priest/rabbi/youth pastor told you about Him. Start new. Clean slate. Read Luke like it was the first time you have ever read it, and jot down your thoughts.

For starters:

Jesus is not:

a Christian

a Republican

just a good, moral teacher

a white skinned, blue-eyed man

an American, nor does America hold a special place in his heart

a peace-keeper

Mr. Rogers

interested in my money

well-liked

fair

quiet

apathetic

grumpy

looking for an opportunity to scold you

If any of these statements caught you off-guard or made you gasp (even a little)...GOOD! You're starting to reset already. If you're just mad and want to disown me as a friend, I ask you - "Is your faith strong enough to be pulled and stretched and flexed without being broken?" I hope so.

I don't know about you, but I think we become far too complacent in our faith. We go along thinking we have all the right answers. And we believe our "job" is to get everyone to believe everything we do. We surround ourselves with like-minded people who never challenge us. We become lukewarm. Milk-toast. We never question ourselves "because we've always believed that".

So, for the next 6 weeks, let's challenge and question each other. Let's learn together and be prepared to be surprised. God loves to surprise us! Let's expect it, rather than be afraid of it. Ready? Here we go. RESET!

A Need for Perspective

2009-02-10T10:47:00.000-05:00

Puzzled about Geese

2009-02-09T15:43:00.004-05:00

There is one sight this winter that has caught my attention and caused me to muse: Geese.

There are several ponds on the property where I work. During the summer months, these ponds are full of geese, ducks, and a couple swans. They offer the feel of being part of a sanctuary (not considering the copious amounts of poop they leave behind).

But all winter, I see large quantities of geese (for whatever reason have chosen NOT to go south where it is warmer) standing and walking on the frozen ponds, and occasionally swimming in the frigid waters. Here's the question that has me puzzled:

Why do geese choose to spend their day on the ice rather than the ground?

During the coldest months of the year, these geese CHOOSE to sit and sleep on the ice. Why? I mean, there is grass right over there. Wouldn't it be more comfortable to stand or sleep on the ground than on ice? Even if I had a down sleeping bag, the best money could buy, and I had a choice of rolling it out and sleeping on the ground or the ice, I would choose ground. Wouldn't you? If your thinking they want to stay close to the water in case they get thirsty...they have friggin' wings!! They can fly over to the water to get a drink whenever they want. That's no excuse. Wow...maybe they're just lazy.

And what about their feet? Why don't they freeze and die? Have you ever thought about this? First, picture a goose foot. Have you ever seen one? They are skin and bone. They is no real quantifiable amount of meat (muscle) on a goose's foot. It is simply bone wrapped in black skin. So what keeps them from freezing? Our human appendages have more meat on them than geese feet and yet these are the most susceptible parts of our bodies to frostbite and freezing.

And while I am on geese, what's with that one-legged stand they do? I get the sense that they know we think they're rowing with one oar, and it's their way of saying, "Oh yea...take a look at this". I call it "goose antagonism". It's showing off. It really bugs me.

Oops...gotta go. I'm late for my therapist.

A Tale of Two Cities

2009-01-27T17:31:00.005-05:00

The year is 1994, and the Docherty's move to upstate NY to a small town called Norwich, NY. Population: Approx. 7,000. Scott has accepted a job with Procter & Gamble Pharmaceuticals where they have an R&D facility located here. They have no kids, but Jess is 8 months pregnant with a son, soon to be called Gavin. They buy their first home (a dream come true) and a couple years later are joined by Eliot, the fourth and final family member. Norwich gives new meaning to the term "small town". The closest mall is an hour drive away. There are a couple grocery stores, a handful of fast food places, and a hospital. Other than that, there's not much more. To Scott & Jess, this is a stepping stone in life's journey. In reality, they don't see themselves here for longer than five years. To Gavin & Eliot, Norwich is their world and they can't imagine anything else.

Fourteen years later (2008), the family relocates to Mason, OH. Population: Approx. 30,000. There are more kids in the Mason school district than the entire population of Norwich. Scott relocates with Procter & Gamble Pharmaceuticals. The closest shopping plaza is a stones throw away. Gavin starts high school as a freshman. Next year, his high school will be the largest in the state of Ohio. The Cincinnati area is the mothership to P&G. All P&G'ers will return to her someday. And here we are.

I returned to Norwich this past week on business and was reminded of all the things I loved and hated about Norwich.

If there is one thing I loved the most about Norwich, was it's size. And the thing I hated the most - it's size. Truth be told - size matters.

I loved Norwich because it was truly small-town USA. After living there to 14 years, I felt like I knew almost everyone. No matter where you went, you always ran into someone you knew. If you were at an intersection waiting to make a left-hand turn, you would wave to more than half the people passing you in on-coming traffic. You would exchange pleasantries with people across the room in a restaurant and welcome most coming in. You would easily see half a dozen friends and/or neighbors on a trip to Wal-Mart. There was truly a sense of being connected to a community. You knew many and you were known. It was a great feeling. I miss that.

I hated Norwich because it was truly small-town USA. We had no mall. If you needed to buy a pair of dress shoes, you needed to drive at least an hour away. There were times when we only had one restaurant to go to (thank God for Nina's), and for some strange reason, nearly every eating place in Norwich is closed on Monday nights. There were nearly as many Dollar Stores in Norwich as gas stations. And true for most small towns, selection is a luxury, as much for clothing and eating options as churches. I recall us trying almost every church in Norwich upon arriving there 14 years ago, and for most we visited, we were the only people with our own teeth (and children rather than grandchildren).

So...although size matters...that's not the point. The point is perspective. No matter where you live or what job you have, we can all find the good and the bad. I am sure if you give me a few more months, I could write about the loves and hates of Mason just as easily. But I guess I am innately a "glass half full" person. I try to focus on the positive of wherever I am. And have always classified the present as the best time of my life. So here's to Norwich - the definition of all things "small town".

Cheeseburger in Paradise

2009-01-25T15:43:00.007-05:00

I know I am a fairly new-comer to the Cincinnati area (only seven months), but I think I may have found the best cheeseburgers in town!

I stumbled upon this joint when I was here last summer on my house-hunting trip. It's a "hole in the wall" joint - nothing stands out and screams "Best burgers in town!". I guess that's what I like about it , too.

The place - The Cheezburger Cafe (right next door to, and often listed also as Skip's Bageldeli). It located at 12092 Montgomery Rd., Cincinnati, OH 45249.

View Larger Map

These are not your run-of-the-mill cheeseburgers. They are not cookie-cutter cheeseburgers. If you are used to McD's or Wendy's burgers, these will blow those out of the water. And if you are a bit partial to the so-called endless fries (that never really materialize) and neatly packaged burgers of Red Robin, I challenge your taste buds to try the common-man's burger. These puppies are 1/3 lb. hand formed slabs of heavenly goodness. You can get a single, double, or triple...and would find it personally delightful to gorge myself on a triple (1 pound) greasy cheeseburger sometime before I pass from this world (and if I died while consuming this bovine beauty, that would just be icing on the cake!).

To top this thing, you can choose from several free and included condiments at no extra charge, including grilled onions, lettuce, tomato, mushrooms, onion straws, dill pickle, relish, and raw onion. You can also choose from several different cheeses for your creation including (but limited to) provolone, pepper jack, American, and cheddar.

They have fries...of course. You need them. Like the Lone Ranger needs Tonto. You can get regular fries or waffle-cut. You get a basket of them...and cover them in salt and vinegar. That's right. Vinegar. Salt and vinegar french fries. Can't get those at Burger King.

And here's the kicker...if you print off this blog posting and bring it in with you, they will take 10% off your order. No joke! This is real. This is how cool this place is. And here's the real clincher - if you're over in the Mason area and let me know, and we can do lunch together, it's on me. My treat.

Hi. My name is Scott and I'm a cheeseburger evangelist.

Forgotten Dream

2009-01-23T20:36:00.006-05:00

I was reminded today of a forgotten dream...

I was surfing some friends Facebook pages and came across this...

Project Canaan from Heart for Africa on Vimeo.

I was pulled back into my passion like a rip tide. I don't know how you can watch that video and not be moved. I am reminded of a continent with far less than even us on our worst days. I was reminded of my Swazi friend, Pastor George. I was reminded of the children in the rural villages outside Mbabane that would see us from a distance and come running down the road to meet us. I was reminded of my first visit to the country with Bruce Wilkinson. I was reminded of sitting in my church in central New York on a Saturday afternoon and hearing the clear call of God asking me to go to Africa. I was reminded of my second visit to Swaziland and meeting my friend, Dan, who was not only my roommate, but a kindred soul with very similar dreams. I am reminded of Wakhile, my 6 year old sponsor child in Swaziland. I was reminded my my friend, Linda and her husband Tom, who were with me on my first visit to the country and who still return to Swaziland about three times a year to help with an orphanage.

As was reminded of so many dreams that had slipped away...

Please help me to not forget again. When you see me, ask about my passion for Africa. Ask me what I am actively doing to follow my passion. Hold me accountable.

Misperceptions for Breakfast

2009-01-19T13:55:00.003-05:00

I am both a morning person and a breakfast lover.

Thankfully, my oldest son, Gavin, is too. So this morning, despite some failed attempts at making plans for the day, we set out for some morning goodness.

Now, I like change. If given a choice, I would rather go on vacation somewhere I haven't been before, than to return to a place I have already seen. That goes for restaurants, too. I figure, with so many options in the world, if you don't try new things, you have no idea what you are missing. I accept the risk that sometimes trying new things result in really bad experiences, but it's a risk I eagerly and willingly accept.

As we headed out of the neighborhood this morning, I asked my son where he wanted to go eat. He offered up either Bob Evans or IHOP...both places I have already been. They're good, but I've already tasted what they have to offer. I'm looking for a new taste and/or experience. I think for a moment, and then it hits me. I turn to my son, and with a big smile on my face, say, "I know where we're going". He looks back, and with a look of both mixed trepidation and excitement, asks, "Waffle House?", to which I reply, "Yep".

Now, let me provide a bit of background on Waffle House (since some of you reading may not have one near you, or may have never heard of Waffle House). We just moved to the Cinci area about seven months ago, so Waffle House is new to us as well. They dot the landscape around here like the offspring of two horny rabbits. They are everywhere. They are very small buildings and all look the same - just like a mini Midas Muffler Shop.

Perceptions are funny things. They are built from impressions, similar experiences, things we have been told, and observation. In other words, a quick, intuitive impression from what we have seen. No facts. No actual personal knowledge. And yet we give them so much weight.

And here were our perceptions of the Waffle House on our way there this morning: a room filled with cigarette-smoking truckers and food with a faint taste of tar and nicotine. In fact, I was expecting the menu to include the Surgeon General's warning that, "The food consumed in the Waffle House may be hazardous to your health". We thought is was going to be a bit dirty and grundgy, with sticky counter-tops and floors. And that the waitress would remind me of Flo from Mel's Place.

Well, we were dead wrong! Let me say, upon pulling into the parking lot, I was a bit shocked and excited to see so many cars. If the place is as bad as I was thinking, why would so many people be eating here this morning? Then, as we approached the door, I read a sign that said, "No Smoking Allowed". Hallelujah!! We sat at the counter (which was free of any stickiness) and proceeded to review the menu. We each ordered the All-Star Breakfast, the item with the largest collection of breakfast items they had to offer (so we could get a true sampling of the food). Let me say, the food was great, as was the coffee. And our waitress, Stephanie, was very nice and didn't remind me of Flo at all.

I am a fan of Waffle House! And I would recommend it to any other breakfast-loving, morning person out there. Don't judge the Waffle House by it's uncanny similarity to a quick-lube or muffler shop. It's quite good! In fact, although it is against my personal policy, I may even go back some day.

Stupid Rules

2009-01-09T15:42:00.006-05:00

I am sure, like me, you grew up in a household with more than a few annoying 'rules' laid down by dear old Mom & Dad. I'm not talking about the rules promoting politeness or etiquette, like "Don't chew with your mouth open", or "Say 'Please' and 'Thank you'". I am talking about the rules that made you scratch your head in bewilderment. As a kid, I never thought twice about them, but as I got older, moved into adulthood, and became a parent myself, I think back and have to say, "What were they thinking?"

"Don't sing at the table"

This is probably the most confusing for me. My Dad was a die-hard "no singing at the dinner table" type of guy. We couldn't even hum. Not sure why. I know my Dad saw "The Sound of Music" - must have never made the connection. The Docherty's could have been this generations Van Trapp family if given the opportunity to harmonize about ham and scalloped potatoes. If you think about it (no pun intended), singing is a very harmonizing act. People come together and are happy and smiling when singing together. To my Dad's defense, maybe he was just looking for a little peace and quiet at the end of the day.

"You can't leave the house unless your bed is made"

Mom's law. As an adult, I wonder how many days of school I could have legitimately skipped by simply not making my bed. Can you see the note you would bring back to school the next day - 'Scott was absent yesterday because he did not make his bed'. I never understood this rule as a kid, and honestly, still don't. I figure it's my bedroom and not the public family room of the house. And besides, why make the bed if you are just going to rip the covers back later that day to mess it all up again?

I'm sure my kids think I have some stupid rules, too. But we can sing at the table, and sometimes I still don't make my bed in the morning.

Bags

2009-01-05T21:16:00.005-05:00

I met Michael Jackson on Sunday.

Shortly after, I met Greg, and then Sean. These were three homeless men living in downtown Cincinnati. I met them in Washington Park. Here's my story...and little of theirs.

If you have been reading my blog, you know I was having a hard time with the whole gift-getting and gift-giving thing this year. I didn't want anyone to get me stuff I didn't need because the "season" told them to, and I didn't want to feel obligated to get stuff for other people who already had way too much. I didn't need anything...and there are so many people who need just the basics or a little help. I wanted to give away more this year than I got.

So Jess and I decided to fill bags with blankets, food, water bottles, toiletries, gloves and hats...and then give them to people who were in real need. We made five bags.

Sunday morning I decided to go out and drive around and look for people in real need - homeless people and those asking for a handout. This shouldn't be hard in a city like Cincinnati, right? We see people like this all over the place when we drive in closer to the city. So my oldest son, Gavin, came with me and we set out. No real plan; no real direction. Just looking forward to where God might lead us and how He might show up.

Gavin and I drove around for about 45 minutes and never spotted a person in need. On one hand, we should have been thrilled, but we had five bags we wanted to give away. At one point Gavin said, "I never thought this would be hard." I just quietly kept praying for God to show us where to go. We saw parts of Cinci that I never knew existed (and if I could tell you how to get there, you probably wouldn't either).

We came to this one red light and stopped. I looked across the street and there was a mural painted on the side of a building. It read, "Jesus said, If you love me, Feed my people." I pointed for Gavin to read and said, "We're trying...but we can't find them."

Less than a mile down the road, we passed Washington Park and saw a number of people that were clearly homeless and in need. This is where we had been heading all day. We parked the car, got out, and started walking across the park with each of us carrying a bag.

It wasn't long before a gentleman called out, "Hey! You guys giving stuff away?" I replied that we were looking to help some homeless people with what we had brought. That section of the park came alive with men shouting, "I'm homeless", "He's homeless", "That guy over there is homeless". We were overwhelmed.

We met Michael Jackson (hey...I'm taking his word for it). He is 53 and was recently laid off from his job. He has 13 children - all grown - and now alone. He said it is rough being homeless down in this area because it is not safe. He was humble enough to ask for a bag. I could see a hint of shame in his face, but tried to erase that away with conversation that communicated "we are the same, you and me".

We met Greg, 58, who asked for prayer because he lost his mother a couple weeks earlier and it was really rough on him. A few years previously, he lost his wife. He was without a job also. We had a bag for him.

And we met Sean, who came walking over to the car as we were pulling away from the park, and waved us down to see if we had another bag to give out. We had just one more - for him. He was a young guy. He explained that he had been married for 12 years but was separated from his wife. He and she drank too much and he was trying to stay dry. He asked for prayer to get into a shelter up the road that was difficult to get a place at.

If we had 20 more bags that day, we could have given them all out.

I left Washington Park that morning hoping that a little kindness would pay big dividends for the guys looking for a little hope and help.

"The Bridge"

2008-12-29T19:06:00.000-05:00

The Greatest Gift

2008-12-28T21:42:00.003-05:00

My Christmas was most memorable this year. I hope yours was, too.

In a previous post, I stated how I hate the societal expectation of buying and giving gifts, simply because of the day of the year. Whenever anyone asked me this year, "What do you want for Christmas?", I replied. "Nothing". I wasn't being harsh or crass - I simply don't need anything.

For Christmas this year, we drew names of people in our extended family who we would buy for. It was all a secret (no one knew who anyone else had), so I told as many people in the family as possible that I didn't want anything. That there were millions of other people in the world with far less than me.

On Christmas morning, I learned that my youngest son, Eliot, had my name. I really wasn't expecting him to "get" the idea of me not wanting anything. Boy...I wasn't ready for the shocker he had in store for me.

After most gifts were opened and enjoyed, Eliot says, "Look, Dad. There is an envelope in the Christmas tree." I reached up to retrieve it and he told me this was his gift to me. As I opened the envelope and read the contents, a flood of emotion overcame me and the tears started to flow. My son had given me a sponsored child from Swaziland through World Vision. Her name is Wakhile. She is 6 years old and adorable!

My son got it! It wasn't about getting me something I didn't need. The greatest gift I received this year was the realization that my son learned the value of helping others who are less fortunate.

As I read the note he included for me, and my tears flowed, I looked over to him and the tears were flowing down his face, too. It was a great moment...for both of us.

I am exceptionally thrilled about sponsoring Wakhile. You see, I have been to Swaziland twice on humanitarian efforts and am very accustom to the country, the people, and their great need. The country has the highest rate of HIV infection in the world. I really hope to return to Swaziland some day and hopefully meet Wakhile. I know I will definitely return to Africa.

We Are All Millionaires

2008-12-18T22:37:00.005-05:00

I was an emotional wreck last night.

I watched the show, "The Secret Millionaire".

If you have never seen this show before, I strongly encourage you to. Just make sure you have a box of Puffs next to you (hey...I work for P&G. I can't refer to them as kleenex). I had not ever seen it before and I was completely unprepared for the flood of raw emotion.

Here's the premise: A multi-millionaire goes under-cover in an extremely impoverished area of the country and lives with the poor and destitute for a week. They identify those in greatest need, and at the end of the week, they get out their own checkbooks and give away at least $100,000 to those they feel are most in need of financial assistance.

I was blown away by the concept and had to watch to see how "real" it was going to be.

Let me give you a bit of background about me. About seven years ago, I went to Africa for the first time in my life (Swaziland). It's the second smallest country in Africa and has the highest AIDS rate in the world. At the time, nearly 1 in 2 people in the country was infected. I saw entire families made-up of only children because the parents had died off. There was virtually no one my age in the country - just the very young and the very old. Extreme poverty, poor living conditions, and malnutrition. Then I came home (after a week) to what I can only describe as "gross over-abundance". The excess we have in this country is disgusting, gross, and shameful. I'm as guilty as you. That experience, and another one two years later, changed my life and how I see "stuff" - material possessions. So since then, every year at Christmas time, I am so frustrated by the societal expectation to get "stuff" I don't need and to give "stuff" that others don't need. Ask my family - they keep asking me what I want for Christmas and I keep telling them, "Nothing. I have all I need and more".

So this millionaire lives a week in one of the poorest areas of Pennsylvania, in a roach-infested apartment with little heat that costs $47/week for rent. And all she has is $107 to live off of - welfare wages. After a week, she identifies, 1) a woman who cares for approximately 15 under-privileged kids by herself, including a number of foster kids, and wishes she could help more, 2) a widowed mom of three young boys who lives in a broken-down house and is barely making it, but being a pillar for her boys; her husband died unexpectedly about 6 months previously from a heart attack, and 3) a woman who buys groceries and delivers boxes of food to the doorsteps of poor families every week because she sees the need. At the end of the week, the child-care woman gets a check for $30,000 and a truck-load of toys for the kids, the young widow gets a check for $70,000, and the woman feeding the poor gets $100,000 - all from a stranger from a fortunate life.

I was watching the show with my oldest son, Gavin, and during one of the commercials he turned to me and said he felt guilty. Here he is watching these very poor people and then the next second he is watching commercials for buying sweaters and watches and cars and phones. He made me proud in that moment. He got it. I agreed with him and told him I felt guilty for watching the show on my flat-screen TV.

You see...if you are reading this, you are rich. We all are. We are all millionaires. We all have more than we need and we still buy more. And what are we doing to help the people down the road, or in the next town who are barely making it. Do we see them? Do we think about them?

Rob Bell says, "It's easy for us to fall into a mindset of viewing "our" world as "the" world, because it's all we generally see. We're constantly bombarded with images of the latest styles and models of everything, and it can easily leave us feeling like what we have isn't enough because we see people that have even more than us. But how does what we have compare to what most people in the world have? Maybe what we have is enough; maybe it's more than enough. Maybe God has blessed us with everything we have so we can bless and give to others."

This Christmas, I want to give away more than I receive. And I don't mean sweaters or video games or MP3 players. I want to give away food to the hungry, blankets to the cold, water to the thirsty, and companionship to the lonely. Because I'm rich.

Merry Xmas

2008-12-14T19:45:00.006-05:00

I have been troubled lately by a phrase I keep seeing. I see it on Facebook, I see it in emails, and last night I saw it for the umpteenth time (although I must admit, I am not even sure how many an umpteen is, but I know it's a lot) on a bumper sticker.

It's not like I have never seen this phrase before. It's just that it is really getting to me this Christmas season. So let me apologize in advance if this phrase is currently on your vehicle or as a footnote to all your emails, or if you are part of a personal campaign to...

"Keep Christ in Christmas"

My annoyance at this phrase is that a group of Christians (either a minority or a majority) feel that the abbreviation "Xmas" is an attempt to "x-out" the name of Christ from Christmas, to demote Christ to a mere cosmic algebraic variable. To which my response is, "Oh, come on...really?"

Maybe their just naive. If that's the case, let me explain where Xmas came from. In early Greek versions of the New Testament, the letter Χ (chi), is the first letter of Christ. Since the mid-16th century 'Χ', or the similar Roman letter 'X', has been used as an abbreviation for Christ. Hence, Xmas is often used as an abbreviation for Christmas.

It's funny. I don't see these same Christians with bumper stickers or campaigns stating, "Keep Christ in Before Christ". BC is a common abbreviation for denoting a time before Christ, but no one gets upset for replacing Christ with a 'C'. And several Christians, whether they are part of the Xmas Strike Force or not, wear WWJD bracelets and T-Shirts without thinking twice that they just substituted Jesus with the letter 'J'.

And honestly, does it really matter? What kind of message are we sending to people who read this kind of stuff on our emails and cars? Is it drawing people closer to X? Or reinforcing the idea that Xians major on the minors and minor on the majors? I think the latter. Is our faith so weak that we are threatened by 'Xmas', feeling we need to right a societal wrong, because Christ could actually loose the spotlight of Christmas?

So here's my Xmas wish to all reading - No matter what anyone else thinks or promotes, know that Xmas is only about Christ's birth and the gift He gave to us.

Merry Xmas to All, and to All a Good Night!

Gift Giving

2008-12-12T12:36:00.007-05:00

Tis the season...

...for all us men to blow the whole "gift giving" concept...again.

OK, if none of you are willing to admit it, I'll make it personal, and you can all agree silently in your heads.

I think for the most part, we (men) loose the skill of gift-giving after about age 30. I think there may be several reasons, but for the most part I think it's partly society's fault. We live in an age where we don't wait for birthdays or Christmas or anniversaries to buy ourselves or others gifts - we simply get stuff when we see it or find it on sale. A gift is a gift, no matter when someone receives it. Am I wrong?

Here's the test: When was the last time you told yourself or someone else that you really wanted something, but to "wait" till my birthday, or Christmas, or some other special event day? I can't recall for myself.

My wife and I have gotten into a habit lately around gift giving. For the simple reasons already stated, we rarely get anything for each other on special event days (like our anniversary or Christmas), because it seems silly to buy a gift simply because of the societal expectation. Point made by the gasps I just heard.

However, there is one VERY IMPORTANT distinction to this simple rule...a distinction that I painfully learned this past September. Men, please don't miss this critical point:

A woman wants a gift on her birthday

By gift, I don't mean just simple recognition of her birthday, with a "Happy Birthday" greeting or a store bought card. I mean a thoughtful, insightful, gift. Something that communicates that you have been thinking about this for awhile. And put some thought into the entire day.

I really blew it this past September. I won't make that mistake again. I simply extrapolated the "no gift" policy to her birthday - an extrapolation that fails every logical scenario. It was the worst blunder you can make.

The second worst is getting a gift with no thought - a dishwasher, vacuum, or gym membership. Or one that actually benefits you instead of her - a flat-screen TV with surround sound, a video game console, or tickets to a sporting event.

So the point of this post is this: Be Clear about expectations around gift-giving. Ask questions. Research. Plan. Be thoughtful. And do your best to stay out of the dog-house! Good luck!

Things I Don't Miss...

2008-12-09T21:26:00.002-05:00

My hair in junior high
My first car (a Chevy Vega)
Physics
The length of winter in New York
Feeling lonely
My boss from Instrumentation Laboratories
Childhood care-sickness
Dating
Superficiality
TV without remotes

Things I Miss...

2008-12-09T21:18:00.003-05:00

The music of the 80's always being on the radio
High School buddies
The spontaneity that Jess and I had before kids
My first dog - Tallulah
Building forts
Fishing with Murphy
The beach
Irresponsibility
My college waist-size
My Dad

Answers...and Questions

2008-12-01T20:55:00.005-05:00

In the deep end of life, we long for answers. When things are tough, we ask, plead, beg for answers. But why do the answers we desperately desire sometimes lead to more questions?

We were driving home (from CT to OH) on Saturday. We knew we had at least a 12 hour drive ahead of us, and were planning on only going about half way, and completing the journey home on Sunday. We got a late start, it was dark outside, the weather started raining & sleeting, we were about two hours away from our scheduled stop, when the sound started...

KLUNK...KLUNK...KLUNK...KLUNK...

and it was getting louder and more serious sounding. I know you can relate. Not a good sound for your car to be making 6-7 hours from home, in a strange place, at night, with it very cold out, and your car is loaded with your family. No one wants to be stuck on the side of the PA Turnpike at night with 70 MPH traffic whizzing by you, inches away.

So we pulled off at the next exit. We found a Hampton Inn with availability and spent the night. We figured we would be here until at least Monday, when we could get someone to look at the car. But we were praying, asking, pleading for answers.

When we were checking in, we began talking with the young woman behind the counter about our situation and what was around the area. She mentioned that her sister's boyfriend was a mechanic and had his own garage. She gave us his name and number and told us to call him in the morning. Sunday morning. Really? Sunday morning? He would be willing to look at our car on Sunday morning? Possibly.

In the morning, I placed a call to Don, the mechanic. I explained the situation about my car, how I came to get his number, and he graciously gave me directions to his garage. It was about 20 miles away from the hotel.

I got in the car and headed to Don's. The car sounded horrible. I seriously wondered if I would make it to his garage before breaking down, it was that bad. I was traveling slow, thinking that I didn't want to create any more damage, not knowing if that had an ounce of logic or reason. Needless to say, I prayed, and prayed hard, the entire way. Asking, pleading, begging. I was in an unknown area in the PA mountains with no cell service with KLUNK that was slowly transforming to a GRIND.

I approached a section of road that called for a speed limit of 55MPH. What was I going to do? The cars behind me would soon be getting irritated. That's all I needed on top of everything else: Hunting Season Eve Road Rage. So I sped up to 55. At this speed, the sound of the grinding was a bit lost in the road sounds. But I knew it was still there. It was there all yesterday, masked in the road sounds on the Turnpike, only to reveal itself when we slowed down.

I traveled at this speed for about 10 minutes, still praying for this problem to go away, and then came to an area where I needed to return to about 35MPH. When I slowed down, I couldn't believe my ears. There was not a sound from the car.

The answer I was begging for was given.

I continued on to Don's garage and he looked over the car. He jacked it up so we could look under the entire car with a fine-tooth comb and found nothing. He poked, probed, prodded, tugged, and twisted. He could find nothing. I felt just like my wife when she insists the car is making a weird sound, but it never replicates for me when I am listening for it. While Don was looking at the car, I explained that I had been praying that the car's problem would go away, but I would have also liked the assurance of knowing what caused the problem.

Here's the dilemma that I started with: Why do the answers we desperately desire sometimes lead to more questions? Is this really an answer to prayer, or a twisted trick my vehicle is playing on me, only to start grinding again about a mile down the road from Don's garage? Why can't we just believe, give thanks, and move on? Why is an answer to prayer sometimes so unbelievable? Which makes you wonder if that's where we're coming from, why pray at all? Do we pray, believing in an answer, or only skeptically hoping? Tough questions for all of us...or at least me.

As I thought about the situation and the evidence before me (that there was nothing that could be found wrong with the car), I believed whole-heartedly. How could I not?

During a test drive of the car (before I left Don and his garage), he and I drove a few miles down the road. Don started to share with me that his girlfriend doesn't believe in miracles. But he says, if you believe in God, how can you not believe in miracles. If we believe He is the creator of the universe, He can do anything He darn well pleases. A stranger in Hopewell, PA (no joke...that's the name of the town), reminds me of faith, miracles, and answers.

As I write, hindsight reminds me that the car's fix was not the only answer; there was the available hotel at the right spot, the woman who had a friend who was a mechanic, the mechanic willing to look at a strangers car on a Sunday morning...that was a holiday weekend, no less, the kindness of strangers, safety, etc, etc, etc.....

For the remaining six hour drive home that afternoon and evening, the car never made a sound. And why should it?

"Thank you, Bob!"

2008-11-28T15:49:00.003-05:00

I had a bit of a shocker Thanksgiving this year. Actually, the shock came the day before Thanksgiving, but the event returned me to my spiritual roots and really caused me to stop and ponder my life. But let me start at the beginning...

For those of you who don't know me that well, my journey of discovering God began in high school. My best friend, Rob, had the guts and where-with-all to invite me to the Youth Group he had started attending a few weeks earlier. I quickly made some excellent friends (people who are friends of mine to this day; friends I would do anything for), as well as finding a friend and mentor in Bob Lester, my Youth Pastor. Bob and I hit it off and quickly became aware that parts of us were cut from the same fabric; we were both pranksters and we both loved a good water-balloon fight. On a Summer night in 1978, after dinner at his house, I recall sitting around his dining room table with Rob and another mutual friend, John Fielder, and praying. The race-gun fired and I began chasing God.

I could say that in an evening my life changed. But in reality and hindsight, that was actually only the start of my life changing. And Bob had almost everything to do with it. I looked up to him and respected him. He was genuine and sincere in everything. He knew the equal value of having a serious discussion and having a good laugh. He was the kind of man I wanted to be. Apart from my Dad, Bob probably had the greatest influence on my life and an equal responsibility for who I am today.

After high school, I left the San Diego area (where I was living) to go to college. For the most part, I lost touch with Bob. My life was taking off, I was leaving the nest, and I was drawn by the future.

A few years ago, out of the blue, I was spending quite a bit of time remembering Bob and the impact he had on my life. I saw where I was in my life, what I had done with the blank canvas given to me, and was so grateful to Bob for the time he had invested in me as a teenager. I couldn't begin to imagine where I would have been if my life hadn't crossed paths with Bob. I reached out to a friend who was still in touch with Bob and his family to see if I could get his address. I wanted to drop him a note of "thanks" and tell him how much he influenced my life and was responsible for where and who I was. I got his email address and sent him a long letter. He replied shortly, and told me how thankful he was for the note, how proud he was of me, and how my gratitude had touched him. That was the last time I heard from him.

On Wednesday this week, I learned that Bob Lester passed away in his sleep. If that wasn't shock enough, I was also told by a family friend that Bob's will had me listed as someone to officiate his funeral if his pastor couldn't do it. I was both humbled and moved. I realized that, over the years, the respect I had for Bob became mutual. I only realized that this week.

"Bob, you will be missed, but not forgotten. Rest assured, your gift lives on in me and many others who were the recipients of your genuine love, playful spirit, and love of God. We are poorer from your passing, but heaven is richer. Thank you, Bob!"

What the Heck?

2008-11-23T19:26:00.002-05:00

No Joke! I heard a word three times yesterday, all in different settings and at different times, that I have never heard before in my life.

I was beginning to question the value of my "so-called" higher education, or was it merely a by-product of living so close to Kentucky.

"Turducken"

If you are saying to yourself, right now, "Oh yeah, I know what that is", you are far more worldly than I, and no longer need to continue reading this post (except to mock and ridicule my ignorance).

If, on the other hand, you are as befuddled as I was yesterday, keep reading.

Turducken (noun); A dish consisting of a deboned turkey stuffed with a deboned duck that has been stuffed with a small deboned chicken, and also containing stuffing; (pl. turduckens); a Louisiana specialty.

You read right. Some Cajun-inspired, Iron Chef wanna-be, with way too much time on their hands, created a meat potpourri that apparently has quite a bit of popularity with folks around this time of year. I did some research on turducken and found it quite interesting. I would actually like to try one sometime, but maybe on someone else's tab. A 15-25 lb. turducken will run you about $90 - $125. Apparently, most of that cost is labor, as we all know turkey, duck , and chicken are not that expensive. Someones making a killing!

So, how did I (and maybe you) go so long and not hear about turducken before?

That's a question for my chefrieneighbor!

Jumpin' the Gun

2008-11-21T13:01:00.014-05:00

We all know Thanksgiving is next week, and the blogosphere will be filled with posts about being thankful, personal lists of what people are thankful for, Thanksgiving memories, and even a few Thanksgiving dinner favorite recipes. But a series of events that I have been reading, hearing, and experiencing is causing me to get my 'thankful' thoughts down early. So I'm jumpin' the gun.

Actually, the word "thankful" this time of year is way overused. It has become a cliche for most. It's use doesn't even cause most of us to stop and ponder the real meaning. It's like saying you feel 'fine' when someone asks how you're doing. You reply with the pat answer without even a second thought.

So I'm taking 'thankful' to the next level - Gratitude.

(the symbol for gratitude)

Gratitude can be defined several ways, but I especially like this one:

"Kindness awakened by a favor received"

I like this definition because gratitude calls for action. Thankfulness tends to be static, whereas gratitude tends to be dynamic. It assumes that there is more to come...that this is not the end.

Gratitude is the attitude of thankfulness. It's not just being thankful, but all the motivation behind it as well. Gratitude is the emotional connection to being thankful. And don't forget perspective. A couple weeks ago, I had a friend go into surgery to have a brain tumor removed...for the second time. About a week before he entered the hospital, he was explaining to me that since most brain tumors are malignant, the neurologists offices are located in the cancer ward of the hospital. His tumor is benign, and despite the risks of surgery and the fear and uncertainty of the outcome, he had such an attitude of thankfulness that he was far better off than most in the waiting room. That's gratitude!

I recently heard someone define gratitude as being thankful for those wonderful things in our lives that we didn't ask for...like the smell and sound of the ocean, the kindness of a stranger, that last breath you took.

Mistaken Identity

2008-11-19T21:25:00.007-05:00

A friend of mine works at the United Nations in NYC at the Christian Embassy. I've known him since my college days. Mike's a great guy.

He recently sent me a letter to update me on his life and family. He and his wife are going to be moving to London next summer. But I digress...

The point of this post is to share with you a story he shared with me in his letter, that deserves repeating.

Mike was recently on the subway (in NYC) heading to Grand Central Station. In the car, he noticed a dark-skinned man in a suit with a foreign flag pin on his lapel. Mike had to introduce himself and find out where he was from. His name was James and was a diplomat from Ethiopia, visiting the UN for two weeks. Mike and James talked for awhile and then arrived at Grand Central Station. It had started raining fairly hard, so Mike, being the great, generous guy he is, gave James his UN umbrella. They parted ways.

A couple days later, Mike ran into James at the UN. James had a big smile on his face. James explained to Mike that the afternoon he met Mike on the subway, he told everyone he ran into, "I met Jesus on the train and he gave me his umbrella".

How many times have we been mistaken for Jesus? Far too few, if ever, if we're honest. Can you think of any better challenge for the week?

Myopic America

2008-11-13T12:22:00.013-05:00

Let's be honest with ourselves. We are pretty self-centered as a country.

I was reminded of this on a plane ride home from New Orleans yesterday. I was sitting in a area that was surrounded by a group of French physicians and/or nurses (I know this because they were carrying the same totes from the conference I was attending) that were heading back to France. And at least two of them (sitting across from me) had two different French magazines...with Barack Obama on the cover.

This caught my attention for several reasons. It must be very difficult to find French magazines in the States, so they must have brought them with them from home. But here was the President Elect on the cover. When do you recall ever seeing the French President Elect on the cover of any US magazine? I don't. Can you even name the French President? Don't go look it up and post the answer in a comment - I mean recall the name from memory...right now.

Forget France. How about our friends in the UK. Do you know the name of the UK Prime Minister? How about naming two other countries that border Iraq? Do you know what country the city of Monte Carlo is in? Do I need to go on? Have I made my point?

Do you ever notice how US-centric our news is in the States? Apart from Iraq, Iran, and Afghanistan, we rarely ever hear about anything else happening in the rest of the world. Turn on the news tonight and count how many news stories come from around the world, with the exception of these three places.

When was the last time you heard about the genocide still occurring in Darfur? How about any news from Africa for that matter?

In 2002, here were some (embarrassing) findings from geography scores of young Americans:

WHERE IN THE WORLD
Among 18- to 24-year-old Americans given maps:

87 percent cannot find Iraq
83 percent cannot find Afghanistan
76 percent cannot find Saudi Arabia
70 percent cannot find New Jersey
49 percent cannot find New York
11 percent cannot find the United States

Learn something about the world this week you didn't know before. I dare you!

Fluer-de-lis-Ville

2008-11-12T21:49:00.007-05:00

I just got back tonight from a business trip to New Orleans. I had been to New Orleans once before...before Katrina...and sorry to say, it is the least favorite city I have ever visited (and I have driven through Kentucky and McDonough, NY).

I wasn't looking forward to going back, especially post-Katrina.

To tell you the truth, it looks no different. I must not have seen the Katrina-hit areas.

I took a few pictures to remember this trip since I don't think I will be going back (unless for business reasons, again). Enjoy!

(I love the name of this bar!)

(The Mississippi River)

(The Saint Louis Cathedral)

Deep Thoughts

2008-11-09T21:28:00.001-05:00

Life is deep...and so are these thoguhts.

Fat

2008-11-06T22:10:00.007-05:00

It's that time of year. I know the holidays are just around the corner, and I am already carrying about 15 extra pounds that crept up on me like a bad pair of underwear.

This is a horrible time of year to try to loose weight, too. Halloween just ended and the house is full of candy and sweets. I am already thinking about the Thanksgiving day menu. And then Christmas is next with it's array of candy, cakes, desserts, etc.

So, enjoy my new holiday theme song:

Weird Al Yankovich - Fat
Uploaded by baajos

A Look Back

2008-11-05T21:38:00.006-05:00

I have been voluntarily reserved in speaking about the presidential campaign over the past few months. At times it has been difficult. I have had friends try to convince me of "their right" answer(s). I have had others partake in the sad, self-righteous, cowardly attempt to "make their point" at the cost of propagating lies and rumors that were so blatantly comical that it made them look desperate. And through it all, I have tried to be quiet...and listen...and take it in. All of it.

Because I think there is more to learn, than teach (or convince).

I was sad last night during John McCain's concession speech. Sad, because last night I saw the John McCain that I knew and respected from a year (and more) ago. Sad, because I think if he had carried himself with the respect and dignity that he showed last night, he may have won. Sad at the reaction of his staunchest followers (and sad yet again that they were fellow conservatives), that they felt compelled to vehemently "boo" the mere mention of Obama's name. Shame on them.

But the night wasn't all sad. It was also hopeful. Hopeful of a new start. Hopeful that one quality of Obama's campaign, respect, becomes infectious across this country and brings people together. Hopeful that a majority in this country might truly believe that change, although difficult, can be positive.

Last night was historic for this country. I am still in awe at the enormous chasm we spanned in a day. I cannot recall being more proud to be American.

Feeling Small

2008-11-02T21:29:00.005-05:00

I was reminded today of the words of one of my favorite people - Steve Martin.

"I'm feeling...small."

I have been reminded of these profound words several times over the past week. Here are just a few:

A co-worker of mine just passed away unexpectedly this last week. Death always makes me feel small.

I watched "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" with my boys this week. Whether you believe in life on other planets (which, by the way, I don't), the idea of the vastness of space always makes me feel small.

Any glance up into the sky at night will make you feel small. I was reminded of that on Halloween night and the sliver of moon I saw in the sky this evening.

I attended church this weekend. If you are feeling 'big', just attend church. And I'm not talking about the number of people attending. If God doesn't make you feel small, nothing will.

I think it's good to be reminded (often) of how small we are. We have a natural human tendency to think more highly of ourselves than those around us. And I'd rather be part of a big thing, than be big all by myself.

I'm feeling small...and enjoying it!

Not Smarter than a 6th Grader

2008-10-31T17:57:00.003-04:00

I went to my son's science fair this morning. He's in 6th grade. The entire class - every student - had a presentation of a famous person that they were depicting and sharing info about. I was amazed at what I didn't know.

Did you know:

Isaac Newton was pulled out of school to help on his family's farm? (Sorry...but his parents just weren't paying attention)

Jane Goodall became interested in chimps from a chimp doll that her Dad gave her as a child?

When Charles Darwin set out for the Galapagos Islands, he thought he was going to be gone for 2 years - ended up being 5 years?
The inventor of "Barbie" named the doll and Ken after the names of her two actual children? And she invented the artificial breast, as she was a breast cancer patient?

OK...neither did I. Now I don't feel so bad.

Hog Heaven

2008-10-30T21:48:00.009-04:00

Earlier this week, a group of us from work were asked to partake in an off-site "team building' exercise. Normally, I don't get too excited about these sort of things (because they don't usually live up to my expectations), but when I heard we would be cooking, I was jazzed!

The place was called The Art of Entertaining in Madison. There were about 20 of us, and at one point in the day, we broke into four teams and had an Iron Chef competition.

We had to use a table of ingredients to come up with a spring roll and dipping sauce that would be judged on taste, originality, and plating. And we had to make enough for everyone else to taste. We only had an hour. This 'foodie' was in hog heaven!

Half of our team worked on the filling for the spring roll, while the other half worked on several different dipping sauces. We had the time to come up with about four different flavors to determine which would go best with the roll (a spicy mex filling with black beans and veggies).

When the decision had to be made, my sauce was chosen. I called it "Cinnamon Kiwi Salsa". Okay...it wasn't actually a dipping sauce. but my teammates loved it. Fresh diced tomatoes and kiwi, honey, cinnamon, and a slight dash of pomegranate juice. It was delicious if I do say so myself.

Well, we didn't end up winning the competition. We lost to a surprisingly delicious dessert spring roll that was filled with 'air' (don't ask). But, as we've all been taught, it's not whether you win or loose, but how you play the game. And we were playing to win, so it was a bummer all around. Seriously, we had a blast and made some great dishes.

So, all I have to say is, if Bobby Flay ever does a Throwdown with spring roll sauces...you know where to find me.

Litmus Test

2008-10-27T15:44:00.004-04:00

ABC has a test at the below address to see who's campaign statements, McCain's or Obama's, you agree with most. They don't tell you who made the statements, of course, but a statement made by each candidate on the same topic (economy, immigration, judiciary, etc.) will be side by side. You just pick which statement you agree with and, after selecting all 13, you'll find out which candidate's philosophy you support.

Try it at:

http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/MatchoMatic/fullpage?id=5542139

Spontaneous Human Combustion

2008-10-26T14:41:00.004-04:00

Have you heard of the urban legend of spontaneous human combustion (SHC)? If not, SHC refers to the belief that the human body sometimes burns without an external source of ignition. There is much speculation and controversy regarding SHC, for it is an unproven natural phenomenon.

I was nearly a victim of it last night.

At 3:00AM, I woke up out of a dead sleep, feeling like I was about to self-combust.

The fact is, I have high triglycerides - a genetic gift from my parents that keeps on giving. My sister actually has it, too. A few years back, I had some blood work done and discovered that my triglycerides (the soluble fat in your blood) was sky-high. My doctor said to try to get it under control with exercise and diet, or I would need to go on prescription medication.

So I began asking around about this condition (I work for a pharmaceutical company and had the luxury of knowing a few cardiologists). Come to find out, a common vitamin (niacin), taken in high doses, can actually have a dramatic effect on reducing triglycerides.

But here's the catch - high doses of niacin cause flushing (and I don't mean the kind associated with Montezuma's revenge). I mean the kind associated with hot flashes. An intense and temporary 'burning sensation' that occurs over your entire body, starting from the top of your head and works it's way down your body, slowly. Trust me - it's quite miserable. Ask any post-menopausal woman. Stop the snickering. Which is why most people opt for the persription medication rather than niacin.

But, it's better than being on prescription meds my whole life, so I started experimenting and taking niacin a few years ago. And it worked! Within a few months, I got my triglycerides down to normal range.

But I wasn't as consistent in taking niacin as I should have been. I recently had a check-up and my new doctor recommended taking a different kind of niacin. He had some samples and gave me a handful to take at night, right before bed.

I have been taking these for about a week and experienced no side effects or flushing. Until last night. It was, by far, the worst reaction I have had in years. The good news: it only lasted about 30 minutes.

So, as spontaneous human combustion is wrapped in speculation and controversy, I offer up the best and most logical explanation.

Niacin.

(Do not take doses of niacin over 100mg without first consulting with your physician)

Isquotersquash

2008-10-24T12:35:00.006-04:00

"What is that?", you say.

That is the Native American word for pumpkin. And I intend on using it in conversation between now and October 31st, so don't give me that look.

How about some lesser known facts about pumpkins and Halloween:

The pumpkin is actually a fruit, and is from the same family as melons and gherkins (I love that word! I'm using it this week, too)

The word 'pumpkin' comes from the French explorer, Jacques Cartier, who referred to these large fruit as "gross melons". In his native tongue, that translates to 'ponpions', which is where we get 'pumpkin'.

Pumpkins are indigenous to the western hemisphere and were completely unknown in Europe before Christopher Columbus' travels.

Halloween is actually based on an ancient Celtic holiday known as Samhain (pronounced "sau-en"), which means "summer's end", and was used to honor those who had passed away (I know this comes as a disappointment to all my wicken and ultra-conservative Christian friends - sorry).

Americans spend an estimated $6.9 billion annually on Halloween, making it the country's second largest commercial holiday (ashamedly embarrassing, but true).

I love Halloween! I always have. I love dressing up and being someone or something I am not. I enjoy the process of picking through the choicest pieces of candy from my sons harvest of the night, often disguised as carefully checking for 'razor blades and needles'. And ask my Mom...I have always got a thrill out of scaring the snot out of people. It's a rush. Similar to riding roller coasters...but much shorter.

Okay, I gotta run. I need to carve my isquotersquash.

Things That Make Us Go, "Hmmmm...."

2008-10-21T22:15:00.000-04:00

The TV show "Lost"
Teenage hormones
Peter standing outside the boat
The origin of fruit flies
Unconditional love
Falling gas prices
Vice Presidential choices
The human body
Dreams
The things a dog finds appetizing

(in no particular order)

Focus

2008-10-21T17:15:00.000-04:00

I had the day off yesterday...and was down. Maybe a case of 24-hour depression. Nothing serious, but I could tell something was off. Couldn't put my finger on it, though. I thought maybe I was just having an off-day. I don't know if you noticed, but I didn't even blog. As the day progressed today, I snapped out of it. I got my mind around things of work and seemed to spring back.

Then, today at work, I did an on-line personal strengths assessment for a team-building exercise a group of us are doing next week. It's from the book called, "Strengths Finder 2.0". As I was taking the assessment (which is suppose to identify what I'm good at), it hit me. I know why I was off yesterday.

The day before yesterday (Sunday), I went and practiced with an improv group that invited me to give it a try. The anticipation was palatable. I was looking forward to this. This kind of stuff makes me feel alive. It's the little things in life, isn't it?

The 3.5 hours of practice went well at first. My creative juices were flowing and it felt good. But as the evening progressed, I could tell I was running out of those juices. My creative "umph" was waning. I was as creative as a paint-by-numbers by the end of the night.

Hindsight is a gift.

It donned on me today that I was focusing on my weaknesses, rather than seeing my strengths. (If Chris were reading this, he would know exactly what I was talking about).

I was mentally going over every missed opportunity and dead spot. I was analyzing each situation and coming up with options that I should have said or done. I was comparing myself to others and my own expectations...and that's always a bad idea. I never measure up. I didn't spend any time analyzing the scenes I thought I did well.

Don't we always do that? It's so much easier to find our faults than recognize our strengths.

So I'm letting it go. It's in the past. So I choked a few times on Sunday but that doesn't define me for the future...or define who I am.

You're Not Me

2008-10-18T19:33:00.000-04:00

I spent the day with my oldest son, Gavin, today. We went to the Renaissance Festival. On the way there, we were talking, and I asked him what one thing stresses him out the most these days. He said he is still trying to adjust to our recent move to Cincinnati. He then turned to me and asked if I had adjusted to our move. I paused, confidently nodded, and said, "Yes...but you're not me".

I had an email exchange a couple days ago with a long-time friend of mine about politics. It was clear to me where she stands, based on the emails she was forwarding. I respectfully (I hope) replied to one, and although it was never discussed between us, I feel she thinks we are in opposite camps. That's OK with me, because that's not the point.

I could share a dozen more stories like this...stories that highlight the differences between me and those around me. Even those that are closest to me (and not excluding stories of differences in faith-issues).

I have realized, regretfully, far too late in life, that there is tremendous value in diversity. I actually seek it out now. It enriches me and hopefully makes me a better person. I painfully admit that this change only really started occurring in me a couple years ago. It's like a slow awakening.

I remember spending so much time and effort either looking for those people who were just like me, or trying to convince those to see things my way. I was actually arrogant enough to think I had the right answers...and depending on the topic, the only answer(s).

There is something very liberating about letting go of the self-imposed responsibility to set others 'straight'. Your journey is very different from mine. I know I don't have all the right answers for you, as well as the presumption that I do. And it is that last point that has made all the difference.

The BIG Holiday

2008-10-17T17:22:00.000-04:00

Are you as fed up as I am?

I was in Sam's Club last week and saw Christmas decorations and wrapping paper out already. I almost screamed. It's not even Halloween! For the past 20 years, I say every year that the Christmas advertising starts earlier every year. I believe it's true. Even if it is earlier by a day or two than last year, it's creepin' up.

Do you remember the days of celebrating a holiday, one at a time? Do you remember as a kid looking for a Halloween costume and not getting lost in the artificial trees? Those were the days.

Nowadays, from the first of October to December, it's like one big holiday. And that's my proposal. I'm wasting too much energy getting so upset about the ever-increasing Christmas shopping season. I think we should just set the expectation that from September 1st through January 1st, we celebrate "Thanksgivoween".

Wouldn't that be so much easier? One set of decorations. One big school break. Not to mention an entire new line of Hallmark cards. No more changing the house decor from one holiday theme to the next. I can envision pumpkin snowmen and turkey-drawn sleighs (besides...that's way more believable than flying reindeer).

So, in the spirit of simplicity and less stress, I wish you all a very Merry Thanksgivoween!

Hungry?

2008-10-16T20:55:00.001-04:00

Were you hungry at all today?

I mean...really hungry?

I doubt it. But if you were, you were likely only a few steps away from satisfying your hunger. You had a few dollars in your pocket and the choices were endless.

Not so for many around the world. Here are the statistics:

An estimated 923 million people in the world go hungry.
In developing countries nearly 16 million children die every year from preventable and treatable causes. Sixty percent of these deaths are from hunger and malnutrition.
In the United States, 11.7 million children live in households where people have to skip meals or eat less to make ends meet. That means one in ten households in the U.S. are living with hunger or are at risk of hunger.

If you weren't aware, today was World Hunger Day. I only learned about it because I happen to be listening to NPR this morning. They were sharing how so many people in the US are on Food Stamps (28 million). I wasn't aware, but food stamps provide about $5.00/day/per person for food. Can you imagine getting through the day on $5.00? Me neither. Which got me thinking...

Jess had to run out tonight, so it was just me and the boys. So I loaded them in the car and headed for the grocery store. I decided to combine a teaching lesson with a bit of fun. On the way there, I explained to my boys about Food Stamps, World Hunger Day, and how it must feel to live on only $5.00 a day.

When we got to the store, I gave each of the boys (and myself) a $2.00 pre-loaded card and told them to shop for their dinner (the equivalent of the dinner portion of $5.00/day).

The only rules: They had to buy nutritious food (not $2.00 worth of candy or cookies, although I was really tempted as well), and they had to try to maximize their $2.00.

What a great experiment! Understand, my kids, like yours probably, have never shopped for food. It has always been a luxury, a given, an expectation at different times of the day. But tonight, they had to shop for themselves. I was amazed and what they were looking for, how critical they were of the items they were considering, and how much they could buy for $2.00. And it took them quite awhile to find nutritious food.

At the checkout, here is what we had:

Gavin: 1/3 lb. fillet of shark (on sale) and a small can of mixed vegetables = $1.73
Eliot: 1 package of oriental noodles with shrimp dinner and a small can of beets = $1.98
Dad: 1 can of "Spam-like" meat, a package of dirty rice mix, and a small banana = $1.83

I was most amazed at what my boys learned from the experience. Here are a few of the things they shared with me:

All the really inexpensive stuff was the most unhealthy; most of it was junk food
We couldn't afford any brand name items
It was really hard to try to find affordable food, and enough of it, for a meal
It was really hard to find anything fresh

Shockingly, my kids loved the experience. They got more out of it than I was hoping. In fact, they both said we should do this once a week so we don't forget what hunger and poverty is like. They made me proud.

What did I learn?

That we are incredibly blessed and have far more than we need. That I need to be outward focused more than I am. That feeding the hungry is part of Plan A.

The Power of "No"

2008-10-15T12:31:00.001-04:00

I am dying at work. Everyday, I juggle my time between meetings, phone calls, emails, and the occasional "drive-by" visit to my desk. I'm managing, but some days it feels like I am breathing through a straw. And I have to make this quick, because I have a meeting in 20 minutes...

To some extent, this has been thrust upon me. But I need to take ownership for some of it, too. How often do we shy away from saying, "No"?

There is great power and freedom in being able to say "No". It's a liberating word. It almost takes no effort at all to say (go ahead...try it), yet I would bet that most of us rarely say it when we most need to. I'm talking about those of you, like me, who feel an unspoken obligation to stick our fingers in all the holes in the dike...especially if no one else is willing.

Well...I say, "No". I am no longer going to spread myself so thin that I'm doing everything alf-hassed. I'm only going to sign-up for those things that I am passionate about, that bring my joy, and that I'm good at. I want to bring value, rather than a warm body.

What do you say? Are you with me?

Was that a "No"?

Here We Go...

2008-10-14T12:17:00.000-04:00

OK...so it's taken us awhile to get into the whole "blog-o-sphere", but here we are. Better late than later. And I have to admit - there is something a bit narcissistic about blogging. Don't get me wrong. I'm not knockin' it. I'm as narcissistic as the next person. But it will be interesting to see who really cares about what we have to say.

Maybe that's why I have always had a hard time journaling. Everyone always says, "You really should journal", including Jess. But I have never had any success. I have started, but usually stop writing shortly after the first couple entries. It's all so one-sided. No input. No dialogue. So blogging is my compromise. I'll occasionally jot down a few ideas or thoughts that are running through my head, but I would like some input every now and then. Let me know what you think...about what I think. Call me out. Agree. Disagree. LOL. Something...
So this is the start of our social experiment. Life is deep. Hold our hands and let's jump in together!