As a child, Halloween was only a tier lower than Christmas and my birthday as favorite holidays. (I know that my birthday isn't a holiday - yet) You get to dress up, wander around in the darkness and people give you free candy. What's not to like about that?!? My favorite is anything chocolate.
My brother and I would take a long look at the costumes on the racks at the big box stores, dreaming of the night that we would magically be transformed into Snow White (me) or Darth Vader (my brother). More often than not, my mother would create our costumes. The few times I can actually remember getting a "store bought" costume, the dumb plastic mask would suffocate and blind me and I couldn't wait to get it off.
An advantage of being a P.K. meant that before going out to trick or treat in town, dad would drive us out into the country to predesignated houses so parishioners could give us overfilled treat bags. This was in an age before Halloween was given much press or promotion. Before you had to take your candy to the hospital to get x-rayed before you could indulge. My parents checked our candy thoroughly to make sure it looked safe. Looking back on this now, I think they may have been scoping out our loot for an after bedtime heist. Just a theory....
As I roll my memory back through my Halloweens past, Halloween sticks out as milestones in my life.
Like the year that we moved November 1st. Halloween was a busy time for my mother as she packed up our belongings and got us ready for a new start. She must have been at a loss for costume ideas as was evidence of my completed costume. A box covered with an old tablecloth -- I showed up at the Halloween party as a cook book. Not a super cool costume for an 8th grader.My father was experiencing a rush of artistic talent the year my brother went as a headless man, complete with a suitcoat borrowed from my dad's closet. At least he was warm that year.
Living in the Northern Plains, you never knew what Halloween weather would bring. You may get to wear your pretty princess costume with a turtleneck or you would be wearing your parka unzipped, freezing, but determined that everyone would know you were a princess.
I haven't outgrown the love for Halloween. I have a party every year for children, youth and adults from my church. It gives me the opportunity to see my little ones dressed up. I'm sure that Ariel, the little mermaid and Hannah Montana will make an appearance. I also get to reaquaint myself with my neighbors and meet their grandchildren.
My costume ideas come from the Bible now and the kids get hints about the costume. The first to guess gets a prize. This year's costume is.... Well, maybe you can guess. I'm an Old Testament thing, mentioned in the first ten books of the bible. I'm mentioned in hymns. Anyone? My dog, Lucy, will be going as Duke, the Bushes baked beans dog. Monster is going as herself.
The origins of Halloween date back to the Druids and Celtic traditions of Samhain (pronounced sow-in), a festival celebrating the harvest and preparing for a time of winter. During this festival, people believed that the veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead was very thin. It was a time to seek your future from fortune tellers. As time passed, many of these traditions were diluted and the pagan rites of the holiday were lost. When Irish settlers came to America to escape the potato famine, they brought many of their traditions and celebrations with them. More time passed and Halloween, like many other holidays became more commercialized as people took advantage of Halloween to have block parties and get together with the neighbors.
As a Christian, my ties to Hallween are very tenuous. I celebrate Halloween as a time to gather my family and friends for an evening of food, fun and fellowship. I encourage my children and youth to find costumes that are not scary. Halloween is a unique change to shine our light for Jesus through our conduct and witness.
I wish you all a Happy Halloween. If your close enough, stop by. I'm giving out treats sure to satisfy even the most discerning tastebuds. Be safe and say thank you at each house. Enjoy!
Monday, October 26, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Unsung Heroes
The flu season has hit us hard in this corner of the world. Everyone knows someone who has been laid low by the coughing, sneezing, stuffy head and fever that announces "Hey, You have the flu!". I have so far (knock on wood) remained unscathed by this soon to be epidemic. My germophobic tendencies have kicked into high gear and I dread even a quick trip to WalMart.
Reports on the radio during my drive to work this morning spoke of hospitals restricting visitation and clinics overrun with people looking for relief from their symptoms. I stopped at a nearby convenience store on my way to the office to pick up some coffee and the lady at the counter was preaching a sermon to an unsuspecting customer about how this is a conspiracy with the health insurance companies. They want you to get a flu shot, which really is useless and then you have to pay more money for a doctor's visit and prescriptions. She also said that an employee had taken her young child to a walk-in clinic and everyone there was masked.
Now, I know that there has been lots of hype in the media about H1N1. They love to create panic and watch us run around like chickens with our heads cut off. However, I do know that for some people, the flu is serious business, not merely an inconvenience to be endured.
I have several friends who work in the health care field and this flu season has been tough on them. They deal with people who feel terrible who just want to get in and out of the clinic and pharmacy as quickly as possible. People can turn ugly pretty quickly when they are told that yes, there will be at least an hours' wait to see the doctor. After waiting two hours to see a physician, they really, really don't want to hear that their prescription will take 20 minutes to fill. If you ask them for their insurance card, you're likely to see a meltdown. Compound this if the patient is a child. The poor parents who haven't slept in two days have less patience than a two year old waiting for Christmas. You can't blame them. You can even sympathize with them. The situation is what you might call a perfect storm. The conditions are just right for bad things to happen.
It's tough to get an appointment with any doc, much less your primary caregiver. Don't argue with the scheduler. They can't schedule appointments when they are all full.
Walk-in clinics are flooded with flu cases along with their usual combo of aches, pains, headaches, etc. The staff at these clinics are open to abuses of many kinds as they ask people to mask if they are coughing, pay their copay and wait until they can be seen. And they are trying to keep from catching the very bugs that present themselves at their counter in droves! Most clinics have policy that they will see everyone who is registered by closing time. Talk about some serious overtime.
Pharmacy employees are trying to get their customers in and out as quickly as possible. However, filling a prescription takes time. Check allergies, check insurance, make sure that the script is filled accurately. A stop at the cash register. A complaint as to the cost of the medicine, which they have no control over. Next please.
There are so many people in our community that are working hard to see us through this flu season. Please be kind to them. A smile will go a long way to making their day a little easier. I know how grumpy you can get when you have to leave your bed to make a trip to the clinic with a fever of 100 degrees. So do the people in the trenches. They want you to be at home in bed as much as you do!
Reports on the radio during my drive to work this morning spoke of hospitals restricting visitation and clinics overrun with people looking for relief from their symptoms. I stopped at a nearby convenience store on my way to the office to pick up some coffee and the lady at the counter was preaching a sermon to an unsuspecting customer about how this is a conspiracy with the health insurance companies. They want you to get a flu shot, which really is useless and then you have to pay more money for a doctor's visit and prescriptions. She also said that an employee had taken her young child to a walk-in clinic and everyone there was masked.
Now, I know that there has been lots of hype in the media about H1N1. They love to create panic and watch us run around like chickens with our heads cut off. However, I do know that for some people, the flu is serious business, not merely an inconvenience to be endured.
I have several friends who work in the health care field and this flu season has been tough on them. They deal with people who feel terrible who just want to get in and out of the clinic and pharmacy as quickly as possible. People can turn ugly pretty quickly when they are told that yes, there will be at least an hours' wait to see the doctor. After waiting two hours to see a physician, they really, really don't want to hear that their prescription will take 20 minutes to fill. If you ask them for their insurance card, you're likely to see a meltdown. Compound this if the patient is a child. The poor parents who haven't slept in two days have less patience than a two year old waiting for Christmas. You can't blame them. You can even sympathize with them. The situation is what you might call a perfect storm. The conditions are just right for bad things to happen.
It's tough to get an appointment with any doc, much less your primary caregiver. Don't argue with the scheduler. They can't schedule appointments when they are all full.
Walk-in clinics are flooded with flu cases along with their usual combo of aches, pains, headaches, etc. The staff at these clinics are open to abuses of many kinds as they ask people to mask if they are coughing, pay their copay and wait until they can be seen. And they are trying to keep from catching the very bugs that present themselves at their counter in droves! Most clinics have policy that they will see everyone who is registered by closing time. Talk about some serious overtime.
Pharmacy employees are trying to get their customers in and out as quickly as possible. However, filling a prescription takes time. Check allergies, check insurance, make sure that the script is filled accurately. A stop at the cash register. A complaint as to the cost of the medicine, which they have no control over. Next please.
There are so many people in our community that are working hard to see us through this flu season. Please be kind to them. A smile will go a long way to making their day a little easier. I know how grumpy you can get when you have to leave your bed to make a trip to the clinic with a fever of 100 degrees. So do the people in the trenches. They want you to be at home in bed as much as you do!
Friday, October 9, 2009
Outbreak
H1N1 has now entered the vocabulary of everyone over the age of five. What started out as the "swine flu", causing mass slaughters of all the pigs in Egypt, became the more policitically correct H1N1 virus. You can't turn on the radio or television, pick up a paper or log in online without being inundated with information and statistics on the pandemic.
Being "germophobic", I have been watching this develop with much intrepidation. I have a frail immune system and seem to be catching germ du jour every other month. I won't say that it's really bad, but my doctor just called me to see how I am feeling as he is planning a cruise and would like to upgrade to a king-sized suite. Working with children and youth have always been a challenge as kids tend to suffer from twice as many bugs as adults. I do my best to stay healthy by handwashing, getting enough sleep and buying hand sanitizer by the barrel. However, H1N1 has me worried.
This weekend, I was supposed to be road tripping with my youth group to our annual Senior High Conference youth event in lovely Mitchell, South Dakota. With schools closing due to illness and the virus being everywhere, we had to cancel the trip. Offering bowling as a substitute for a weekend of fun, friends and meeting new friends, we were able to make up a small part of the disappointment they felt. However, they themselves have been related stories of classmates out with H1N1 for two or three weeks at a time.
H1N1, in my opinion, combines many symptoms that are merely miserable to make a sickness that is truly terrible. Take all of the aches and respiratory symptoms of the seasonal flu and add the gastrointestinal experiences of the stomache bug and you have a truly brutal virus that can drop any young, toug high school football player and send us all to bed.
All of these things were magnified for me this week as I, too, have been under the weather. Saturday, I came down with some ugly stomache bug that took until Wednesday to truly shake. Add a sinus infection and I was knew that it was time for some real medicine.
Getting a doctor's appointment was much harder than normal. I couldn't get in to my primary caregiver as he was completely full. As a matter of fact, even his add-on appointments were full. The scheduler told me that I could go to the walk-in clinic. While she was speaking, visions of the movie Outbreak were dancing in my head. Especially the scene where the man is coughing in the crowded movie theater and as the droplets flew into the air, you knew that everyone in the theater was toast.
I was finally able to secure an appointment for the next day. As I walked in to the clinic to hand over half my paycheck and register, hand sanitizer bottles and masks greeted me. The ladies sitting at the registration desks on the front line were cheerful. I tried hard not to cough as the masks are not an amazing fashion statement and people treat you like Typhoid Mary. I found if I breathed shallow breathes that I could avoid coughing. I must have been the color of a smurf by the time I got to the waiting room.
It was early and there was only one other patient in the large room. After careful scrutiny, I decided that, although he didn't look terminally ill, I wasn't taking any chances and found a chair on the other side of the room. I once again resumed my shallow breathing to avoid the blue mask of infection and waited for my name to be called. By some divine miracle, the nurse came to rescue me from the waiting room in short order and, after a terrifying layover at the scale, I was put in a room. The nurse actually gave me permission to cough after taking my temperature with that goofy ear thermometer which registered 95 degrees. Not too accurate in my opinion.
The doctor came in mid-cough and stood across the room from me during his entire examination. After confirming that I did indeed have a sinus infection, he asked me which antibiotic I preferred. In only four minutes, I was off to the elevator clutching scripts for expensive drugs to further tax the already overwhelmed health care system.
I have gotten my seasonal flu shot last week and will be in line for an H1N1 vaccination as soon as possible. I will cut down on my trips to places that host large crowds such as the local discount stores and the mall. Call me what you will, but my hope is that I can avoid this viral experience. I pray health for all of you. Get your sleep, wash your hands and stay home from work and church if you do get sick. Prepare for the worst and stock up on soup, soda and toilet paper. My parents said that they bought extra just in case. Good luck, fellow germ carriers!
Being "germophobic", I have been watching this develop with much intrepidation. I have a frail immune system and seem to be catching germ du jour every other month. I won't say that it's really bad, but my doctor just called me to see how I am feeling as he is planning a cruise and would like to upgrade to a king-sized suite. Working with children and youth have always been a challenge as kids tend to suffer from twice as many bugs as adults. I do my best to stay healthy by handwashing, getting enough sleep and buying hand sanitizer by the barrel. However, H1N1 has me worried.
This weekend, I was supposed to be road tripping with my youth group to our annual Senior High Conference youth event in lovely Mitchell, South Dakota. With schools closing due to illness and the virus being everywhere, we had to cancel the trip. Offering bowling as a substitute for a weekend of fun, friends and meeting new friends, we were able to make up a small part of the disappointment they felt. However, they themselves have been related stories of classmates out with H1N1 for two or three weeks at a time.
H1N1, in my opinion, combines many symptoms that are merely miserable to make a sickness that is truly terrible. Take all of the aches and respiratory symptoms of the seasonal flu and add the gastrointestinal experiences of the stomache bug and you have a truly brutal virus that can drop any young, toug high school football player and send us all to bed.
All of these things were magnified for me this week as I, too, have been under the weather. Saturday, I came down with some ugly stomache bug that took until Wednesday to truly shake. Add a sinus infection and I was knew that it was time for some real medicine.
Getting a doctor's appointment was much harder than normal. I couldn't get in to my primary caregiver as he was completely full. As a matter of fact, even his add-on appointments were full. The scheduler told me that I could go to the walk-in clinic. While she was speaking, visions of the movie Outbreak were dancing in my head. Especially the scene where the man is coughing in the crowded movie theater and as the droplets flew into the air, you knew that everyone in the theater was toast.
I was finally able to secure an appointment for the next day. As I walked in to the clinic to hand over half my paycheck and register, hand sanitizer bottles and masks greeted me. The ladies sitting at the registration desks on the front line were cheerful. I tried hard not to cough as the masks are not an amazing fashion statement and people treat you like Typhoid Mary. I found if I breathed shallow breathes that I could avoid coughing. I must have been the color of a smurf by the time I got to the waiting room.
It was early and there was only one other patient in the large room. After careful scrutiny, I decided that, although he didn't look terminally ill, I wasn't taking any chances and found a chair on the other side of the room. I once again resumed my shallow breathing to avoid the blue mask of infection and waited for my name to be called. By some divine miracle, the nurse came to rescue me from the waiting room in short order and, after a terrifying layover at the scale, I was put in a room. The nurse actually gave me permission to cough after taking my temperature with that goofy ear thermometer which registered 95 degrees. Not too accurate in my opinion.
The doctor came in mid-cough and stood across the room from me during his entire examination. After confirming that I did indeed have a sinus infection, he asked me which antibiotic I preferred. In only four minutes, I was off to the elevator clutching scripts for expensive drugs to further tax the already overwhelmed health care system.
I have gotten my seasonal flu shot last week and will be in line for an H1N1 vaccination as soon as possible. I will cut down on my trips to places that host large crowds such as the local discount stores and the mall. Call me what you will, but my hope is that I can avoid this viral experience. I pray health for all of you. Get your sleep, wash your hands and stay home from work and church if you do get sick. Prepare for the worst and stock up on soup, soda and toilet paper. My parents said that they bought extra just in case. Good luck, fellow germ carriers!
Friday, October 2, 2009
Autumn Activities
Although my calendar indicated that fall began on September 22nd, it really didn't show up until yesterday. It's pretty amazing to me how quickly the weather changes on the prairies. On Saturday, I had the air conditioning humming as I baked and cooked for my supper company. Sunday found me bumping up the thermostat so I could combat the windy, cool weather. Welcome to North Dakota Autumn!
Autumn tends to be anyone's guess here on the Plains. We could enjoy a long, beautiful view of the changing leaves or we go directly from shorts to parkas. No middle ground. Fall isn't my favorite season, as it points to winter, which I can honestly say is my least favorite of the three seasons we enjoy here.
I have noticed since late August that the days are getting shorter. It's so much harder to pull yourself out of the nest in the morning when it's dark outside. Even Lucy, the puppy, has better sense than to be up before dawn. I know that I possess plant-like tendencies - I really need the natural light and I really like it when people talk to me routinely. Getting up in the dark, leaving the house for work in the dark and coming home in the darkness is such drudgery. Many people in this part of the country struggle with SAD - Seasonal Affective Disorder. It's no wonder that people get depressed when you have only eight hours of daylight each day and all of those are spent looking out your office window.
Another fall tradition that grows weary is the Christmas displays that come right on the tail of Halloween. I'm not a grinch. I love Christmas - the lights, the family and the nativity. However, why can't we wait until after Thanksgiving before putting up the display trees and advertising Christmas bargains. Extending the holidays to profit from the holiday brings a very anticlimatic feeling come December 25th.
Flu season arrives about the time that October rolls around. We never stopped seaonal flu cases in our area, and now we are being asked to get not one, but two vaccinations - one for the seasonal flu and one for the H1N1 (swine flu). Knock on wood, I haven't suffered from the flu for a couple of years. I recently spoke with an older gentleman from my church who described his bout of flu and said that at one point he was afraid that he wouldn't die! Add nausea, vomiting and, to put it gently, lower G.I. symptoms, and you would hope that Jesus comes back really soon! Our youth group had to cancel our annual trip to the Senior High event in South Dakota as the reality set in that getting stricken kids home six hours in a car could be a very long trip for everyone! That doesn't take into consideration that the chaperone/driver (i.e. me) could catch this bug and have to drive home six hours in a car. I have stocked up on Germ-X and trying to avoid people who look sick.
There are plenty of things about fall I enjoy. Papa's Pumpkin Patch is a wonderful place - you and your children can play on the haybale stacks, wander through the thousands of pumpkins for sale and watch the pumpkin cannon hurl the pumpkins toward a huge bale target. Lucy and I are going to get our pictures taken at the Patch on Sunday as part of the Humane Society's fundraiser. I enjoy Halloween parties and a chance to dress up. Really, as adults we don't have a lot of opportunities to wear costumes. What a shame. I enjoy playing cards in the evening and watching a fire.
I hope that enjoy our two week of Autumn. Get out and walk through the crunchy leaves. Carve a pumpkin. Jump on a hayride, if you can. Before you know it, the meteorologists will be using curse words like wind chill and frostbite!
Autumn tends to be anyone's guess here on the Plains. We could enjoy a long, beautiful view of the changing leaves or we go directly from shorts to parkas. No middle ground. Fall isn't my favorite season, as it points to winter, which I can honestly say is my least favorite of the three seasons we enjoy here.
I have noticed since late August that the days are getting shorter. It's so much harder to pull yourself out of the nest in the morning when it's dark outside. Even Lucy, the puppy, has better sense than to be up before dawn. I know that I possess plant-like tendencies - I really need the natural light and I really like it when people talk to me routinely. Getting up in the dark, leaving the house for work in the dark and coming home in the darkness is such drudgery. Many people in this part of the country struggle with SAD - Seasonal Affective Disorder. It's no wonder that people get depressed when you have only eight hours of daylight each day and all of those are spent looking out your office window.
Another fall tradition that grows weary is the Christmas displays that come right on the tail of Halloween. I'm not a grinch. I love Christmas - the lights, the family and the nativity. However, why can't we wait until after Thanksgiving before putting up the display trees and advertising Christmas bargains. Extending the holidays to profit from the holiday brings a very anticlimatic feeling come December 25th.
Flu season arrives about the time that October rolls around. We never stopped seaonal flu cases in our area, and now we are being asked to get not one, but two vaccinations - one for the seasonal flu and one for the H1N1 (swine flu). Knock on wood, I haven't suffered from the flu for a couple of years. I recently spoke with an older gentleman from my church who described his bout of flu and said that at one point he was afraid that he wouldn't die! Add nausea, vomiting and, to put it gently, lower G.I. symptoms, and you would hope that Jesus comes back really soon! Our youth group had to cancel our annual trip to the Senior High event in South Dakota as the reality set in that getting stricken kids home six hours in a car could be a very long trip for everyone! That doesn't take into consideration that the chaperone/driver (i.e. me) could catch this bug and have to drive home six hours in a car. I have stocked up on Germ-X and trying to avoid people who look sick.
There are plenty of things about fall I enjoy. Papa's Pumpkin Patch is a wonderful place - you and your children can play on the haybale stacks, wander through the thousands of pumpkins for sale and watch the pumpkin cannon hurl the pumpkins toward a huge bale target. Lucy and I are going to get our pictures taken at the Patch on Sunday as part of the Humane Society's fundraiser. I enjoy Halloween parties and a chance to dress up. Really, as adults we don't have a lot of opportunities to wear costumes. What a shame. I enjoy playing cards in the evening and watching a fire.
I hope that enjoy our two week of Autumn. Get out and walk through the crunchy leaves. Carve a pumpkin. Jump on a hayride, if you can. Before you know it, the meteorologists will be using curse words like wind chill and frostbite!
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Stupid Questions and Quick Comebacks
One of the joys of working with youth is that there is never a shortage of laughter. They are pretty funny people. Their observations tend to be skewed by their inexperience, but it's almost always good for a laugh. Teenagers are also the masters of a good comeback. Their timing is usually impeccable and it comes at time when the mood is getting way too somber for teens.
This became very evident to me over Labor Day Weekend at our Youth Group Retreat. Nothing bonds a group more than spending every waking moment with each other, eating, not sleeping, talking and eating some more. Sleep deprivation adds a certain element to every comment, question and comeback that enhances the "funny" quotient and makes ordinary things the most hilarious situation you've ever come upon.
Not to say that my family provides a lack of humor. My family get-togethers, while too far and far between, usually include late night card games. We begin the competition ready to wage battle and it almost always deteriorates to tears as we laugh so hard that soda comes out someone's nose (usually mine).
Anyway, this Labor Day weekend left me thanking God once again for job that allows me to spend time with teenagers. It really keeps you humble. You can't get too cocky when the kids are telling stories about your hair being so scary that it terrified three obnoxious seventh grade boys and made them scream like little girls.
The first night of any trip is a complete sleep loss as you try to quiet excited kids and "make" them go to sleep. No one can make anyone go to sleep. The best you can hope for is silent. Teenagers will try anything to keep you from knowing they are awake and doing things you would prefer they didn't. It was during this first night, somewhere around 3 a.m. that I started to think about stupid questions that no one should ever ask... or worse yet, answer.
Stupid Question #1 - Do I look stupid? OK, well.... um... yeah. Never ask this question, especially to teenagers. They will have a good answer and you won't like it.
Stupid Question #1A - How stupid do I look? Do you really want to know? I don't think so.
Stupid Question #2 - Do I look like I was born yesterday? Well, obviously not. I don't color my hair for no reason at all.
Stupid Question #3 - Do you expect me to believe that? Yes, or they wouldn't have gone through the trouble of making it up.
As the weekend progressed, we tackled some pretty deep issues for a teenage mind. At one point, I was confronted by one of my biggest pet peeves - the cracking of joints, necks, etc. I made the comment that this drives me crazy. At this point, one of the boys asked, "can I come?", which was followed closely by "shotgun"! I guess the second teenage boy was hoping to get the front passenger seat.
While working as a Pharmacy Technician at a hospital, we often had students rotate through our department. This was where the rubber met the road. Time to turn book learning into practical experience. These students were always good for a laugh. After spending several minutes trying to calculate a dosage of potassium chloride for a patient, the student presented their recommendation to the pharmacist. The pharmacist looked at the dosage and declared, deadpan "this is great.... if you want the patient to die." Of course, this would seem morbid to those who don't work in a high stress environment. It was clearly a teaching moment.
Life is tough. Some situations have no humor in them. There are days that seem so heavy with burden that it takes effort just to stand up straight. God knows this. When things look the bleakest, look around you. You can fun laughter in the smallest things. God has left that for you to find, knowing that you would need it.
Help someone else find laughter in their day today. It will be a gift to them and to you. I am blessed, as God has created my life in such a way that I am never at a shortage of material. I mean, look at me -- scary hair, sleep deprivation. If that can't get a laugh, nothing will.
This became very evident to me over Labor Day Weekend at our Youth Group Retreat. Nothing bonds a group more than spending every waking moment with each other, eating, not sleeping, talking and eating some more. Sleep deprivation adds a certain element to every comment, question and comeback that enhances the "funny" quotient and makes ordinary things the most hilarious situation you've ever come upon.
Not to say that my family provides a lack of humor. My family get-togethers, while too far and far between, usually include late night card games. We begin the competition ready to wage battle and it almost always deteriorates to tears as we laugh so hard that soda comes out someone's nose (usually mine).
Anyway, this Labor Day weekend left me thanking God once again for job that allows me to spend time with teenagers. It really keeps you humble. You can't get too cocky when the kids are telling stories about your hair being so scary that it terrified three obnoxious seventh grade boys and made them scream like little girls.
The first night of any trip is a complete sleep loss as you try to quiet excited kids and "make" them go to sleep. No one can make anyone go to sleep. The best you can hope for is silent. Teenagers will try anything to keep you from knowing they are awake and doing things you would prefer they didn't. It was during this first night, somewhere around 3 a.m. that I started to think about stupid questions that no one should ever ask... or worse yet, answer.
Stupid Question #1 - Do I look stupid? OK, well.... um... yeah. Never ask this question, especially to teenagers. They will have a good answer and you won't like it.
Stupid Question #1A - How stupid do I look? Do you really want to know? I don't think so.
Stupid Question #2 - Do I look like I was born yesterday? Well, obviously not. I don't color my hair for no reason at all.
Stupid Question #3 - Do you expect me to believe that? Yes, or they wouldn't have gone through the trouble of making it up.
As the weekend progressed, we tackled some pretty deep issues for a teenage mind. At one point, I was confronted by one of my biggest pet peeves - the cracking of joints, necks, etc. I made the comment that this drives me crazy. At this point, one of the boys asked, "can I come?", which was followed closely by "shotgun"! I guess the second teenage boy was hoping to get the front passenger seat.
While working as a Pharmacy Technician at a hospital, we often had students rotate through our department. This was where the rubber met the road. Time to turn book learning into practical experience. These students were always good for a laugh. After spending several minutes trying to calculate a dosage of potassium chloride for a patient, the student presented their recommendation to the pharmacist. The pharmacist looked at the dosage and declared, deadpan "this is great.... if you want the patient to die." Of course, this would seem morbid to those who don't work in a high stress environment. It was clearly a teaching moment.
Life is tough. Some situations have no humor in them. There are days that seem so heavy with burden that it takes effort just to stand up straight. God knows this. When things look the bleakest, look around you. You can fun laughter in the smallest things. God has left that for you to find, knowing that you would need it.
Help someone else find laughter in their day today. It will be a gift to them and to you. I am blessed, as God has created my life in such a way that I am never at a shortage of material. I mean, look at me -- scary hair, sleep deprivation. If that can't get a laugh, nothing will.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Life as PK
There is a popular myth being circulated about Pks (aka Preacher's Kids). I'm sure that you have heard it - they have a wild side. Looks are deceiving - they may be starched and in the front pew listening intently to every word that their pastor parent speaks. Get them out of their church clothes, however, and it's a different story.
Well, I'm hear to partially debunk that myth. I can speak from 38 years of being a preacher's kid that every PK is different. We don't all have a sudden urge to test out of firestarting techniques in the back of the sanctuary. We don't have hot tub parties in the baptismal font -- OK, well I'm Methodist and we don't baptize by submersion. But I still wouldn't have a hot tub party. As my father would say, we Methodists like to let our hair down, but we are pretty short haired people.
Living with a minister in the house does tend to give their children a slightly different upbringing than other children. Not good or bad, just different. I know how to take complete phone messages from time I was in kindergarten. Name of person, message, phone number, time of call. I have been to more marriage counseling sessions than most married people.
Death was a common theme in our house. There were frequent funerals and I could recognizethe sound of the funeral director's voice on the phone. Police showing up at the front door in the middle of the night meant that I knew before someone else's family knew that a loved one had tragically died. My father was a young minister during the end of the Vietnam War and we did have "army men" show up to ask my father to accompany them to a family's house to give them a death notification.
I grew up nourished on pot luck dinner and funeral lunch left overs. I know that you have not truly mourned until you have eaten an open faced cheese whiz sandwich with a piece of green olive on the top. I consider hamburger hotdish and jello comfort foods. Funeral sandwiches would often show up on the lunch table and we enjoyed the left over cake from the funeral lunch.
Everything was not always leftovers and Christmas cookies. Being a Pastor's family meant that you were always held under the microscope. If you left too many lights on in the house, you were wasting church money because they paid the utility bill. You lived in a house you did not own and white walls with brown carpet are a universal color scheme. You can't walk on the carpet in high heels. As a PK, you knew that if your father stopped his sermon to look at you, you'd better pray that Jesus came back before the benediction or you were toast!
People that go to church are just like any other group of people. Some of them are nice and some of them are not. For some reason that has alluded me, people think that the staff at church can be used as target practice. Someone will start a rumor, voice a disapproval or point out a fault and away you go. There are meetings and letters, phone calls and gossip. Pretty soon you start to avoid people on your way to get the mail. You are not quite sure who your friends are, or even if a pastor can have friends that are also parisioners.
And yet, when someone dies or a tragedy strikes, you pick up the phone and call your Pastor. And they come. Your expectations are always higher of your parsonage family than your own family. You expect them to forgive and forget, work tirelessly on any church project, visit the sick and those in prison, feed the hungry, be kind to everyone and always have the answers to life's hardest questions.
I don't mean to rant about church people. There people are those that I consider some of my closest friends. I have shared their table for holidays and have been invited to family events. I get to share in their largest triumphs and their darkest moments. I consider it a privilege to share this season with them.
I grew up knowing that death was a part of life and that there are things in life worse than death. I understood that by inviting those who would be alone for the holidays to break bread with you, you were giving them a wonderful gift. My family is closer for all of the moves that brought us to a new place, a new home and a new church family. Knowing Vaughn was right down the hall in a classroom full of strangers made me braver as I faced a similar classroom. We both knew that the world was bigger than that little corner of the world.
Pastor Appreciation month is in October. Please take some time to think about how you can encourage your pastor and their family. They have made the decision to serve the Lord where they are sent and your affirmation makes that path a little easier to trod. Remember that they are human and suceptible to weakness and doubt. Lift them up to the Lord in prayer and ask for God's wisdom as they face difficult decisions every day. Love them as family. Forgive them as Jesus taught. Those would be the greatest gifts.
Well, I'm hear to partially debunk that myth. I can speak from 38 years of being a preacher's kid that every PK is different. We don't all have a sudden urge to test out of firestarting techniques in the back of the sanctuary. We don't have hot tub parties in the baptismal font -- OK, well I'm Methodist and we don't baptize by submersion. But I still wouldn't have a hot tub party. As my father would say, we Methodists like to let our hair down, but we are pretty short haired people.
Living with a minister in the house does tend to give their children a slightly different upbringing than other children. Not good or bad, just different. I know how to take complete phone messages from time I was in kindergarten. Name of person, message, phone number, time of call. I have been to more marriage counseling sessions than most married people.
Death was a common theme in our house. There were frequent funerals and I could recognizethe sound of the funeral director's voice on the phone. Police showing up at the front door in the middle of the night meant that I knew before someone else's family knew that a loved one had tragically died. My father was a young minister during the end of the Vietnam War and we did have "army men" show up to ask my father to accompany them to a family's house to give them a death notification.
I grew up nourished on pot luck dinner and funeral lunch left overs. I know that you have not truly mourned until you have eaten an open faced cheese whiz sandwich with a piece of green olive on the top. I consider hamburger hotdish and jello comfort foods. Funeral sandwiches would often show up on the lunch table and we enjoyed the left over cake from the funeral lunch.
Everything was not always leftovers and Christmas cookies. Being a Pastor's family meant that you were always held under the microscope. If you left too many lights on in the house, you were wasting church money because they paid the utility bill. You lived in a house you did not own and white walls with brown carpet are a universal color scheme. You can't walk on the carpet in high heels. As a PK, you knew that if your father stopped his sermon to look at you, you'd better pray that Jesus came back before the benediction or you were toast!
People that go to church are just like any other group of people. Some of them are nice and some of them are not. For some reason that has alluded me, people think that the staff at church can be used as target practice. Someone will start a rumor, voice a disapproval or point out a fault and away you go. There are meetings and letters, phone calls and gossip. Pretty soon you start to avoid people on your way to get the mail. You are not quite sure who your friends are, or even if a pastor can have friends that are also parisioners.
And yet, when someone dies or a tragedy strikes, you pick up the phone and call your Pastor. And they come. Your expectations are always higher of your parsonage family than your own family. You expect them to forgive and forget, work tirelessly on any church project, visit the sick and those in prison, feed the hungry, be kind to everyone and always have the answers to life's hardest questions.
I don't mean to rant about church people. There people are those that I consider some of my closest friends. I have shared their table for holidays and have been invited to family events. I get to share in their largest triumphs and their darkest moments. I consider it a privilege to share this season with them.
I grew up knowing that death was a part of life and that there are things in life worse than death. I understood that by inviting those who would be alone for the holidays to break bread with you, you were giving them a wonderful gift. My family is closer for all of the moves that brought us to a new place, a new home and a new church family. Knowing Vaughn was right down the hall in a classroom full of strangers made me braver as I faced a similar classroom. We both knew that the world was bigger than that little corner of the world.
Pastor Appreciation month is in October. Please take some time to think about how you can encourage your pastor and their family. They have made the decision to serve the Lord where they are sent and your affirmation makes that path a little easier to trod. Remember that they are human and suceptible to weakness and doubt. Lift them up to the Lord in prayer and ask for God's wisdom as they face difficult decisions every day. Love them as family. Forgive them as Jesus taught. Those would be the greatest gifts.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Packing Up
I am, once again, packing my bags. The Youth Group will be leaving for their annual Labor Day Retreat this Saturday. Our destination is about an hour from home. We will return home on Monday before lunch. Just enough time to do laundry, catch up on my sleep and nap before bedtime.
Part of the preparation for any youth group trip begins with a letter sent to parents and youth. This packet includes permission forms, emergency contact numbers and a packing list. This packing list is always detailed and helps guide the youth and their folks as they decide what to bring along. The list may contain such items as a jacket (we live in North Dakota and should be prepared for snow at any time), personal hygiene items (please shower while we are gone!) and miscellaneous paraphenalia for whatever adventure we are embarking upon.
You can always tell when Moms have been packing. The youth is wrinkle free, always has enough socks and underwear to wait out the Great Tribulation and a ziplock for their toothbrush. You can also spot those who have packed for themselves. A teenage boys may have a large bag of skittles, an extra shirt and their MP3 player. This youth is going to spend the ride home deflecting comments about having to go "commando" for the weekend.
Teenage girls, on the other hand, tend to pack as though we are going to a remote artic substation for several months. Four pairs of shoes, seventeen outfits and a make up bag that has comes on wheels. No, just kidding.... only 15 outfits.
You can tell alot about someone by the way they pack. Are they carefree? I once had a roommate that would slip a toothbrush in her purse and leave for a weeks' vacation. Are they a mom? They pack for every contingency including famine, plague and an outbreak of malaria? God bless them. They will have extra tissues, mints and a cache of extra socks.
I am a list maker and I have packing list. This list contains a good cross-section of possible scenarios. I have frozen in the middle of July from overzealous air conditioning. Unexpected torrential rainfall has made a weekend of outdoor concerts sauna-like. When I go on the retreat, the make-up bag does not get packed. Foundation, power and mascara are useless to hide the fact that I got two hours of sleep. As a matter of fact, applying mascara while sleep deprivated can be downright dangerous.
When we all gather in the church parking lot with our baggage piled up, a new challenge faces us. How do we get all this stuff into our vehicles?!? Remember that the drivers must have a clear view out their rear windows. The sleeping bags and air mattresses can pose a paticular problem. Sometimes we must load some of the kids first and "pack" around them. And somehow it always fits. However... at the end of the weekend, when you go to repack for the jounrey home, all of the stuff has expanded. It won't fit back into it's original containment device - ie. suitcase, sleeping bag cover, etc.
When I arrive back home, I like to unpack right away and get the washer started. After packing, lugging my bag around all weekend, repacking it and finally unpacking it, I always resolve to pack lighter for the next trip. It's never happened. When Jesus comes back in the clouds to call His believers home and we are taken in the blink of an eye, I will not have to pack. Everything I need will be in heaven with Him. A size four robe will fit perfectly and my only agenda item will be worship.
Until then, I'd better throw in the bug spray, sunscreen and another couple pairs of socks.
Part of the preparation for any youth group trip begins with a letter sent to parents and youth. This packet includes permission forms, emergency contact numbers and a packing list. This packing list is always detailed and helps guide the youth and their folks as they decide what to bring along. The list may contain such items as a jacket (we live in North Dakota and should be prepared for snow at any time), personal hygiene items (please shower while we are gone!) and miscellaneous paraphenalia for whatever adventure we are embarking upon.
You can always tell when Moms have been packing. The youth is wrinkle free, always has enough socks and underwear to wait out the Great Tribulation and a ziplock for their toothbrush. You can also spot those who have packed for themselves. A teenage boys may have a large bag of skittles, an extra shirt and their MP3 player. This youth is going to spend the ride home deflecting comments about having to go "commando" for the weekend.
Teenage girls, on the other hand, tend to pack as though we are going to a remote artic substation for several months. Four pairs of shoes, seventeen outfits and a make up bag that has comes on wheels. No, just kidding.... only 15 outfits.
You can tell alot about someone by the way they pack. Are they carefree? I once had a roommate that would slip a toothbrush in her purse and leave for a weeks' vacation. Are they a mom? They pack for every contingency including famine, plague and an outbreak of malaria? God bless them. They will have extra tissues, mints and a cache of extra socks.
I am a list maker and I have packing list. This list contains a good cross-section of possible scenarios. I have frozen in the middle of July from overzealous air conditioning. Unexpected torrential rainfall has made a weekend of outdoor concerts sauna-like. When I go on the retreat, the make-up bag does not get packed. Foundation, power and mascara are useless to hide the fact that I got two hours of sleep. As a matter of fact, applying mascara while sleep deprivated can be downright dangerous.
When we all gather in the church parking lot with our baggage piled up, a new challenge faces us. How do we get all this stuff into our vehicles?!? Remember that the drivers must have a clear view out their rear windows. The sleeping bags and air mattresses can pose a paticular problem. Sometimes we must load some of the kids first and "pack" around them. And somehow it always fits. However... at the end of the weekend, when you go to repack for the jounrey home, all of the stuff has expanded. It won't fit back into it's original containment device - ie. suitcase, sleeping bag cover, etc.
When I arrive back home, I like to unpack right away and get the washer started. After packing, lugging my bag around all weekend, repacking it and finally unpacking it, I always resolve to pack lighter for the next trip. It's never happened. When Jesus comes back in the clouds to call His believers home and we are taken in the blink of an eye, I will not have to pack. Everything I need will be in heaven with Him. A size four robe will fit perfectly and my only agenda item will be worship.
Until then, I'd better throw in the bug spray, sunscreen and another couple pairs of socks.
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