New and improved! Now 30% better! Redesigned and rebuilt! Now more cup holders!
I tend to scoff at commercials that claim their projects are now better. You shouldn't need to reformula and redesign if you made it right the first time. However, recent lifestyle changes have made me rethink this attitude.
I have been introduced to a new lifestyle; that of a diabetic. I come from a long line of pancreas-challenged folk, so I am quite familiar with diabetes. I also knew that with that diagnosis comes changes - big changes.
My first stop after the doc's office was the dietician. I have had the pleasure of working with several dieticians in my former life as an eating disorder patient. Back then, the dietician was a figure to be scorned as they created diets ensured to put back on pounds that starvation had taken off. Sure, I was going to spend the second twenty years of my life taking off pounds that I had spent the first twenty years putting on!
My dietician was the greatest. She spent a lot of time asking questions about my history and my current eating habits. Then, with a flash from her calculator, she created my new diet.
Used to be that diabetics could have nothing containing sugar. Sugar = bad. After much research, the medical community has found that it's not the sugar, it's the carbs. Carbohydrates are basically sugars and starches found in such yummy food as pasta, potatoes, cereal, bread and yes, even rice cakes. I now found myself allotted 11 carb exchanges a day. An exchange would calculate one slice of bread as 1 carb. Yikes! I call this diet the "if-it-tastes-good-spit-it-out" diet.
The second item I was introduced to at my dietician's office was a blood glucometer to measure my blood sugar. The first time I used it at the office it came back with a very scary number. Sure that the meter was faulty, she had me try again. Same number. After just a few questions, we both discerned that my Olive Garden lunch was the culprit.
Now, I really like my dietician. She gave me great advice and wonderful tools to help me be healthier. However, dieticians don't always live in the real world. I present as evidence some of her helpful statements.
"Frozen sugar-free pudding tastes the same as ice cream". (Obviously, she's never had ice cream!)
Sugar-free grape kool-aid over ice is the same as a frozen lemonade. (See previous comment!)
"You know what else is really good - fat free cream cheese on melba toast" (Please define your definition of good for me!)
The first several days I was paralyzed with fear that I would eat something that would render me unconscious, or worse - over my carb limit for the day. I actually burst in tears on day 4 when I dropped my corn dog (1 meat, 1 carb and 1 fat) on the floor and my lighting-quick dog, Lucy, gobbled it up before my very eyes.
After a couple of weeks, I was navigating potluck like a pro. One of my best friends gave me one of the best birthday presents I would ever receive. She filled my freezer with homecooked meal marked with how many carbs, meats, fats per serving. How amazing is that!
I have hit a few potholes and a couple of moon craters, but I'm almost to 30 pounds lost. Someday soon I hope to weigh what my driver's license says I weigh. (Great job, DOT people, on not making women prove that we weigh what we say we weigh on our application!) When I dropped my first jeans' size, I called my brother to tell him the great news. Complete silence on his end of the phone. I hung up and called my sister-in-law.
Next installment - Exercise A.K.A. Torture with Cute Outfits.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Friday, December 10, 2010
Ring Those Bells!
One of my favorite Christmas traditions is ringing bells for the Salvation Army. I've been volunteering for about 10 years now and I look forward to it every year. The closer to Christmas I can schedule my shifts, the happier I am. Christmas Eve is always the best - people in the Christmas spirit throwing coins and money into the kettle and giving you a hearty "Merry Christmas".
I have rang bells at many locations in Bismarck and Mandan. Some of the venues were busier than others. Some of the retailers were more accommodating than others. Some of the stores allow you inside and others prefer that you do your ringing in the entry way or outside the store. Over the years, the clappers in the bell have been replaced with paper clips. It gives a nice little tinkle without driving the clerks over the edge.
The two hour shifts go quickly as you ring your bell, wish the passersby Merry Christmas and hand out candy canes. Those hours have given me time to engage in one of my hobbies - watching people. And there has been much to see. Some people will greet you with a sincerely hello and others will not make eye contact at you as they walk by. There are those who look harried and tired. Others seem ready to take on the world. The little children will approach you timidly with a coin tightly clutched in their hand and give their gift. Others will give as they pass by almost as if they hope you don't notice them.
A couple of people have stopped and talked to me as they passed by. One woman told me that the Salvation Army had saved her brother's life many years ago and she was grateful for their kindness in the midst of his misery.
It seems, in some cases, that those who look least likely to be able to afford to give are more generous than those who pass by in nice clothes carrying shopping bags from high end stores. I am not there to judge or make anyone feel guilty. What you do or do not give is between you and God.
I was talking with a dear friend earlier this week who felt God leading her to a helping agency in our community. She was given the first name of a child whose family will have a very bleak Christmas. She had a blast shopping for clothes and gifts for this child and her family. As we were talking, my faithful dog, Lucy, was laying at my feet snoozing. It hit me at that moment that my pets live better than some people in my community. She always has a warm house and safe shelter. Lucy has food and treats every day. Her medical needs are taken care of promptly and preventive care is done by the vet of my choice at my convenience. She is always cared for by kind people who treat her well. The fact that people in my town struggle every day without essential needs.
About five years ago, I began setting aside time for our elementary after school church children and our youth group to ring bells. Not only is it a worthy organization, but it helps them remember that there are many in our community that are much less fortunate than they are. This is, by far, one of the kids' favorite activities. Our church family took a day of bell ringing at a retail store and were blessed for the experience.
Giving of yourself during this Christmas season is an amazing gift. In the case of the Salvation Army, they know that kettles that have volunteers ringing bells collect more money than those kettles without a volunteer. Giving of your time,which is a precious commodity, is one of the greatest gifts. You have to look no farther than your own children to know what a difference your time makes.
I pray that God would lead you to give of yourselves, your time and your heart this Christmas. It truly is the gift that keeps on giving.
I have rang bells at many locations in Bismarck and Mandan. Some of the venues were busier than others. Some of the retailers were more accommodating than others. Some of the stores allow you inside and others prefer that you do your ringing in the entry way or outside the store. Over the years, the clappers in the bell have been replaced with paper clips. It gives a nice little tinkle without driving the clerks over the edge.
The two hour shifts go quickly as you ring your bell, wish the passersby Merry Christmas and hand out candy canes. Those hours have given me time to engage in one of my hobbies - watching people. And there has been much to see. Some people will greet you with a sincerely hello and others will not make eye contact at you as they walk by. There are those who look harried and tired. Others seem ready to take on the world. The little children will approach you timidly with a coin tightly clutched in their hand and give their gift. Others will give as they pass by almost as if they hope you don't notice them.
A couple of people have stopped and talked to me as they passed by. One woman told me that the Salvation Army had saved her brother's life many years ago and she was grateful for their kindness in the midst of his misery.
It seems, in some cases, that those who look least likely to be able to afford to give are more generous than those who pass by in nice clothes carrying shopping bags from high end stores. I am not there to judge or make anyone feel guilty. What you do or do not give is between you and God.
I was talking with a dear friend earlier this week who felt God leading her to a helping agency in our community. She was given the first name of a child whose family will have a very bleak Christmas. She had a blast shopping for clothes and gifts for this child and her family. As we were talking, my faithful dog, Lucy, was laying at my feet snoozing. It hit me at that moment that my pets live better than some people in my community. She always has a warm house and safe shelter. Lucy has food and treats every day. Her medical needs are taken care of promptly and preventive care is done by the vet of my choice at my convenience. She is always cared for by kind people who treat her well. The fact that people in my town struggle every day without essential needs.
About five years ago, I began setting aside time for our elementary after school church children and our youth group to ring bells. Not only is it a worthy organization, but it helps them remember that there are many in our community that are much less fortunate than they are. This is, by far, one of the kids' favorite activities. Our church family took a day of bell ringing at a retail store and were blessed for the experience.
Giving of yourself during this Christmas season is an amazing gift. In the case of the Salvation Army, they know that kettles that have volunteers ringing bells collect more money than those kettles without a volunteer. Giving of your time,which is a precious commodity, is one of the greatest gifts. You have to look no farther than your own children to know what a difference your time makes.
I pray that God would lead you to give of yourselves, your time and your heart this Christmas. It truly is the gift that keeps on giving.
Monday, October 25, 2010
"Festing" in a Small Town
Early this summer, my parents were moved from South Dakota to serve three churches in rural North Central North Dakota. My father's ministry has taken us to many small towns in Vermont, Montana, Minnesota and North Dakota. I'm a small town person at heart.
Sure, I like the conveniences of big city living - large stores that are opened 24/7, ready accessibility to health care and entertainment (movies and concerts) that come right to your doorstep. But, I also miss the spirit of community in a town where everyone knows almost everyone. People look out for each other. Sometimes, they keep watch a little too closely. As a teenager, I knew that any infraction I committed would be reported to my parents before I got hom. I guess it really does take a village to raise a child.
My parents' new home hosted a Midsummer Fest in June and I thought I would mosey up and take in the festivities. I took my trusty companion and giant Golden Retriever, Lucy, with me for company. We headed off early in the morning, Lucy riding shotgun, in search of some fun. The car passed through the city limits about 9:30 a.m. and I could tell we were in for some big "doings"! The parade was already getting lined up, but there were still some choice seats to be had. We dragged the lawn chairs and I was dragged by the dog to a great vantage point. Joined a short time later by my brother and his family, we enjoyed a small town parade. My nephews got more candy in half an hour than a good night of trick-or-treating. When the veterans reached a point in the parade. Everyone stopped, got off their floats and sang the national anthem. Wonderful!
We stored the chairs and Lucy at the parsonage and headed off to the City Park for a free lunch. People were lined up at the shelter serving hot dogs. Everyone was very pleasant as the new Pastor showed off his family. Until now, most of them had only seen the back of my head as I sat in worship. We spotted a place to sit on the grass and enjoyed our hot dogs, baked beans, chips and lemonade. After lunch, we enjoyed a small craft sale in the park, the boys won soda at the local FFA booth and I caught a couple minutes of the bed races. Yes, they really push beds down the street. It was brlliant!
We took in all of the festival - rummage sale at the Lutheran church, a not so silent auction at the school and a dinner at the community hall to raise money to repair the baby pool. By the time Lucy and I climbed into the car, it was almost nine and I was tired. As I pulled out of town, people I didn't know waved and waved right back. Lucy gave a farewell "woof" and we were gone.
October found Lucy and I on the road once again to Bowdon, North Dakota for their annual Duckfest. My mother has a talent for crocheting necklaces and we had signed up to have a table at the craft fair. We were once again met by friendly folk who helped us find our way around and pointed out some of the activities to us as we settled in. The school has been closed since 1993, but the town has kept up the building well as they have dreams of turning it into a hunting lodge someday soon.
I wandered down to the cafe' on Main Street for some lunch. As I opened the door, I was reminded that it is duck season and three fourths of the customers sported camo. It was a busy place and I as I placed my order to go, I watched many people come and go. One of the local business people ran in to pick up her to go order and took along silverware promising to bring it back at coffee time. The phone rang and the waitress answered and took a message to have Bill call home when he came in for coffee. The wife needed something at the grocery store across the street. A trio of hunters from Georgia were quite familiar with the waitress and helped themselves to drinks from the cooler and pies from the counter.
Our day was prosperous and we celebrated by taking in the German meal before leaving town for the day. It was a freewill offering and I was amazed at their trusting nature as I looked the spread - knoephla and kraut, knoephla soup,borscht, cheese buttons, two kinds of potatoe salad and kuchen by the tableful. Everyone was there from the local law enforcement to a couple celebrating 70 years of marriage the following Sunday. It was wonderful and the meal was delicious.
We returned the following day and my father and I returned to the cafe for breakfast. Many of the same people were at the restaurant and I felt like they were good friends. The Georgia hunters were in need of a chest freezer and were inquiring as to the possibility of buying one. One of the other customers overhead their requestand offered use of their freezer. An address was given; problem solved. I bet lots of problems are solved at the cafe. We were soon joined by my brother and his family. We spent the day enjoying more German fare, enjoying the unseasonably nice weather and watching the boys have fun. They cleaned up at a carnival held at the community center and now have more tractors than most implement dealerships in our area. Sales for my mother were brisk and I tried my hand at crocheting. My mother can make a necklace in about 20 minutes; I can churn out one every four hours on a good day. At the end of the day we were tired and ready for a good meal and a long nights' sleep.
We headed back to my parents' homebase and sampled a homemade pizza at a restaurant that had opened recently. As we watched UND send a better part of their football team to the hospital, we met a colorful waiter and enjoyed a family meal. Once again, I pointed the car south and Lucy watched for deer. It was so nice to give the boys a look at small town living where you can walk just about everywhere. Everyone knows everyone's business and it makes life a little easier to have someone help you carry that burden.
I live in a great town and have amazing friends. When tragedy strikes, people are there with a casserole and a helping hand. People call if you don't show up for church. Your family is their family. They cry with you, laugh with you and eat with you. We don't need a "fest" for that. It's all about community.
Sure, I like the conveniences of big city living - large stores that are opened 24/7, ready accessibility to health care and entertainment (movies and concerts) that come right to your doorstep. But, I also miss the spirit of community in a town where everyone knows almost everyone. People look out for each other. Sometimes, they keep watch a little too closely. As a teenager, I knew that any infraction I committed would be reported to my parents before I got hom. I guess it really does take a village to raise a child.
My parents' new home hosted a Midsummer Fest in June and I thought I would mosey up and take in the festivities. I took my trusty companion and giant Golden Retriever, Lucy, with me for company. We headed off early in the morning, Lucy riding shotgun, in search of some fun. The car passed through the city limits about 9:30 a.m. and I could tell we were in for some big "doings"! The parade was already getting lined up, but there were still some choice seats to be had. We dragged the lawn chairs and I was dragged by the dog to a great vantage point. Joined a short time later by my brother and his family, we enjoyed a small town parade. My nephews got more candy in half an hour than a good night of trick-or-treating. When the veterans reached a point in the parade. Everyone stopped, got off their floats and sang the national anthem. Wonderful!
We stored the chairs and Lucy at the parsonage and headed off to the City Park for a free lunch. People were lined up at the shelter serving hot dogs. Everyone was very pleasant as the new Pastor showed off his family. Until now, most of them had only seen the back of my head as I sat in worship. We spotted a place to sit on the grass and enjoyed our hot dogs, baked beans, chips and lemonade. After lunch, we enjoyed a small craft sale in the park, the boys won soda at the local FFA booth and I caught a couple minutes of the bed races. Yes, they really push beds down the street. It was brlliant!
We took in all of the festival - rummage sale at the Lutheran church, a not so silent auction at the school and a dinner at the community hall to raise money to repair the baby pool. By the time Lucy and I climbed into the car, it was almost nine and I was tired. As I pulled out of town, people I didn't know waved and waved right back. Lucy gave a farewell "woof" and we were gone.
October found Lucy and I on the road once again to Bowdon, North Dakota for their annual Duckfest. My mother has a talent for crocheting necklaces and we had signed up to have a table at the craft fair. We were once again met by friendly folk who helped us find our way around and pointed out some of the activities to us as we settled in. The school has been closed since 1993, but the town has kept up the building well as they have dreams of turning it into a hunting lodge someday soon.
I wandered down to the cafe' on Main Street for some lunch. As I opened the door, I was reminded that it is duck season and three fourths of the customers sported camo. It was a busy place and I as I placed my order to go, I watched many people come and go. One of the local business people ran in to pick up her to go order and took along silverware promising to bring it back at coffee time. The phone rang and the waitress answered and took a message to have Bill call home when he came in for coffee. The wife needed something at the grocery store across the street. A trio of hunters from Georgia were quite familiar with the waitress and helped themselves to drinks from the cooler and pies from the counter.
Our day was prosperous and we celebrated by taking in the German meal before leaving town for the day. It was a freewill offering and I was amazed at their trusting nature as I looked the spread - knoephla and kraut, knoephla soup,borscht, cheese buttons, two kinds of potatoe salad and kuchen by the tableful. Everyone was there from the local law enforcement to a couple celebrating 70 years of marriage the following Sunday. It was wonderful and the meal was delicious.
We returned the following day and my father and I returned to the cafe for breakfast. Many of the same people were at the restaurant and I felt like they were good friends. The Georgia hunters were in need of a chest freezer and were inquiring as to the possibility of buying one. One of the other customers overhead their requestand offered use of their freezer. An address was given; problem solved. I bet lots of problems are solved at the cafe. We were soon joined by my brother and his family. We spent the day enjoying more German fare, enjoying the unseasonably nice weather and watching the boys have fun. They cleaned up at a carnival held at the community center and now have more tractors than most implement dealerships in our area. Sales for my mother were brisk and I tried my hand at crocheting. My mother can make a necklace in about 20 minutes; I can churn out one every four hours on a good day. At the end of the day we were tired and ready for a good meal and a long nights' sleep.
We headed back to my parents' homebase and sampled a homemade pizza at a restaurant that had opened recently. As we watched UND send a better part of their football team to the hospital, we met a colorful waiter and enjoyed a family meal. Once again, I pointed the car south and Lucy watched for deer. It was so nice to give the boys a look at small town living where you can walk just about everywhere. Everyone knows everyone's business and it makes life a little easier to have someone help you carry that burden.
I live in a great town and have amazing friends. When tragedy strikes, people are there with a casserole and a helping hand. People call if you don't show up for church. Your family is their family. They cry with you, laugh with you and eat with you. We don't need a "fest" for that. It's all about community.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Packing
My youth group and I will soon journey to a bible camp on the shores of beautiful Lake Sakakawea for a Labor Day weekend retreat. It is a great time to for our new youth group members, who were only a year before still with the "little kids", to integrate into the youth group. The weekend also provides the opportunity to eat junk, play, hang out, stay up late, eat late night snacks, sleep in late, eat brunch.... well, you get the idea.
Just as side note, there really isn't anything better than a pastromi sandwich at 1:00 a.m. Give it a try!
To prepare for this 48 hour trip resembles nothing short of a full military maneuver. The vast amounts of stuff that you need is truly amazing! I'm not taking about my personal luggage - limited to one bag and a sleeping bag. I mean all of the items and implements for bible study, devotions, games, communion, worship, etc. It usually takes one vehicle just to haul the foodstuffs for two days. Those of you who have kids at home know how much they can eat. I can sit in awe as a teenage boy puts away an entire pizza and could still handle a half a pan of rice krispy bars. Amazing! On retreat, without their parents' supervision, they are allowed to make their own food choices and they do it with abandon! Hot dogs, pizza and pastromi sandwiches for breakfast, macaroni and cheese cold from the frig and pop and candy until they can't handle the buzz. Who could ask for more?!?
I have never had children of my own, but I am beginning to understand what a mom goes through when packing for a trip with her family. She doesn't just pack what she will need, but also what any other member of the family may need and would never pack for themselves. Extra towels, pillows, blankets, sunscreen, bug repellant, washclothes, toothbrushes (new, never used!), Tylenol, Advil, Benadryl, tissues..... Wow!
When going on a trip with the youth group, I must also take a first aid kit if our destination does not supply one. We never fail to need a first aid kit. Last year's retreat featured a piece of playground apparatus that was duly dubbed "the swing of death"! Imagine one large pole about 30 feet tall with a cross bar on top that had a swing on each side (two swings total). The cross bar rotated so the two swings are going around in a circle. We figured out early in the weekend that if you put a littler youth on one side and a bigger youth on the other side, that the litter youth would just fly! To make this piece of playground equipment even more lethal, it had a motor that would make the cross piece swing without help from the participants. Thus, the swing of death. I gave first aid to two youth and filled out at least two incident reports before deeming the swing off limits. I have to admit that I tried the swing myself after enduring much peer pressure from the other chaperones. I think one of the youh even gave me an extra push to send me into orbit. At one point in the ride, I was pretty sure I would meet Jesus really soon!
We must plan for rain or shine. Shine is great because we can be outside enjoying our beautiful surroundings. The youth make their own fun and it's always a blast. We can enjoy the lake and get burned to a crisp. Good times. If it's rain, Plan B goes into effect. Movies, popcorn, games, Wii, naps, more snacks, grousing about the rain, repeat cycle. We're praying for shine!
I really enjoy our Labor Day trip. The kids mix and mingle and your youth leaders begin to emerge. You find out who will watch out for the younger youth, who will step up whe I can't figure out how to use the DVD player and who will stick by the youth that gets a stomach ache from too many gummy bears. You also discover who has the gift of encouragement for those kids who aren't as athletic as the other kids, who has a beautiful singing voice and who is brave enough to into words what God has laid on their hearts. Our weekend will include quiet time to talk with God and to be still.
I have often thought and even written that if people really knew how awesome my job they, too would consider a career change. To see the difference a weekend can make in a youth group is a marvelous phenomenon. We'll come home tired, a little grumpy and well, not April fresh. But we come home a group.
Better get the pack mule saddled up!
Just as side note, there really isn't anything better than a pastromi sandwich at 1:00 a.m. Give it a try!
To prepare for this 48 hour trip resembles nothing short of a full military maneuver. The vast amounts of stuff that you need is truly amazing! I'm not taking about my personal luggage - limited to one bag and a sleeping bag. I mean all of the items and implements for bible study, devotions, games, communion, worship, etc. It usually takes one vehicle just to haul the foodstuffs for two days. Those of you who have kids at home know how much they can eat. I can sit in awe as a teenage boy puts away an entire pizza and could still handle a half a pan of rice krispy bars. Amazing! On retreat, without their parents' supervision, they are allowed to make their own food choices and they do it with abandon! Hot dogs, pizza and pastromi sandwiches for breakfast, macaroni and cheese cold from the frig and pop and candy until they can't handle the buzz. Who could ask for more?!?
I have never had children of my own, but I am beginning to understand what a mom goes through when packing for a trip with her family. She doesn't just pack what she will need, but also what any other member of the family may need and would never pack for themselves. Extra towels, pillows, blankets, sunscreen, bug repellant, washclothes, toothbrushes (new, never used!), Tylenol, Advil, Benadryl, tissues..... Wow!
When going on a trip with the youth group, I must also take a first aid kit if our destination does not supply one. We never fail to need a first aid kit. Last year's retreat featured a piece of playground apparatus that was duly dubbed "the swing of death"! Imagine one large pole about 30 feet tall with a cross bar on top that had a swing on each side (two swings total). The cross bar rotated so the two swings are going around in a circle. We figured out early in the weekend that if you put a littler youth on one side and a bigger youth on the other side, that the litter youth would just fly! To make this piece of playground equipment even more lethal, it had a motor that would make the cross piece swing without help from the participants. Thus, the swing of death. I gave first aid to two youth and filled out at least two incident reports before deeming the swing off limits. I have to admit that I tried the swing myself after enduring much peer pressure from the other chaperones. I think one of the youh even gave me an extra push to send me into orbit. At one point in the ride, I was pretty sure I would meet Jesus really soon!
We must plan for rain or shine. Shine is great because we can be outside enjoying our beautiful surroundings. The youth make their own fun and it's always a blast. We can enjoy the lake and get burned to a crisp. Good times. If it's rain, Plan B goes into effect. Movies, popcorn, games, Wii, naps, more snacks, grousing about the rain, repeat cycle. We're praying for shine!
I really enjoy our Labor Day trip. The kids mix and mingle and your youth leaders begin to emerge. You find out who will watch out for the younger youth, who will step up whe I can't figure out how to use the DVD player and who will stick by the youth that gets a stomach ache from too many gummy bears. You also discover who has the gift of encouragement for those kids who aren't as athletic as the other kids, who has a beautiful singing voice and who is brave enough to into words what God has laid on their hearts. Our weekend will include quiet time to talk with God and to be still.
I have often thought and even written that if people really knew how awesome my job they, too would consider a career change. To see the difference a weekend can make in a youth group is a marvelous phenomenon. We'll come home tired, a little grumpy and well, not April fresh. But we come home a group.
Better get the pack mule saddled up!
Monday, June 28, 2010
Life With The Top Down
I am delusional. This shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone. I truly believe that each season of the year will be calmer, more routined and less stressful than the seaon before. During the school year, I tell myself that once summer vacation comes, I will have more free time to... well, I'm not sure what I would do with free time, but I'd like to give it a try on a trial basis. When summer wraps up and September is just around the corner, I think that once school begins my schedule will be more routined and less stressful. You get the idea.
My parents are in the midst of moving, which is a code blue, three alarm kind of stress. In order to get all of their possessions and vehicles from hither to yon, they left my father's convertible at my house on one of their early trips to North Dakota at the beginning of June. My father left me the keys in case the car needed "to be moved". Guess what? It did need to be moved!
I soon found myself driving everywhere with the top down. Even the smallest errand is an adventure when you put the top down. People become more friendly, waving at you as you pass by. It's like being in a perpetual parade. I have even tried out my princess wave (elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist, touch your crown and blow a kiss). Add a 120 pound dog the size of a small pony and you get even more waves and a couple of stares. Lucy loves riding in "shot gun". The wind is still in her ears but not in her face. She even smiles as we cruise town.
While traveling in the convertible, I can't talk on the phone as the wind has a rushing sound that makes hearing the caller virtually impossible. When on the interstate, even the radio has to be pushed to the highest volumes to be heard over the passing cars. Lots of problems, questions and prayers are sent heavenward while I motor along. It's been good for my soul.
Driving the convertible at night is amazing. I like to taake time to look up at the stars. God promised Abraham that his descendants would be more numerous than the stars in the sky. One of those stars up there was lit for me.
Almost everyone likes to ride in a convertible. My youth group kids all want to ride with me when I've got the rag top. Unfortunately, their music tastes are a bit different from mine. I have had to endure rides down Main Street with Lady Gaga blaring at an amazing level. Adults love to take a leisurely tour of the City and see how the gardens are faring.
My brother once asked me if I take the long way to work when I drive the convertible. My answer: I take the long way everywhere when I drive the convertible!
As I drove home from work one beautiful North Dakota day, it occurred to me that God probably meant for us to live our lives with the top down. We should take the long way whenever possible. Look for the things you pass by everyday and never see. Smile and wave more. Enjoy bright sunny days. Take the simple pleasures that you are given and squeeze every bit of happiness out of them. Wear sunscreen.
My parents are almost finished with their move. I imagine my father will want his convertible back before Thanksgiving. It will be a sad day when I have to hand the keys over. Maybe I can stall until Christmas.
My parents are in the midst of moving, which is a code blue, three alarm kind of stress. In order to get all of their possessions and vehicles from hither to yon, they left my father's convertible at my house on one of their early trips to North Dakota at the beginning of June. My father left me the keys in case the car needed "to be moved". Guess what? It did need to be moved!
I soon found myself driving everywhere with the top down. Even the smallest errand is an adventure when you put the top down. People become more friendly, waving at you as you pass by. It's like being in a perpetual parade. I have even tried out my princess wave (elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist, touch your crown and blow a kiss). Add a 120 pound dog the size of a small pony and you get even more waves and a couple of stares. Lucy loves riding in "shot gun". The wind is still in her ears but not in her face. She even smiles as we cruise town.
While traveling in the convertible, I can't talk on the phone as the wind has a rushing sound that makes hearing the caller virtually impossible. When on the interstate, even the radio has to be pushed to the highest volumes to be heard over the passing cars. Lots of problems, questions and prayers are sent heavenward while I motor along. It's been good for my soul.
Driving the convertible at night is amazing. I like to taake time to look up at the stars. God promised Abraham that his descendants would be more numerous than the stars in the sky. One of those stars up there was lit for me.
Almost everyone likes to ride in a convertible. My youth group kids all want to ride with me when I've got the rag top. Unfortunately, their music tastes are a bit different from mine. I have had to endure rides down Main Street with Lady Gaga blaring at an amazing level. Adults love to take a leisurely tour of the City and see how the gardens are faring.
My brother once asked me if I take the long way to work when I drive the convertible. My answer: I take the long way everywhere when I drive the convertible!
As I drove home from work one beautiful North Dakota day, it occurred to me that God probably meant for us to live our lives with the top down. We should take the long way whenever possible. Look for the things you pass by everyday and never see. Smile and wave more. Enjoy bright sunny days. Take the simple pleasures that you are given and squeeze every bit of happiness out of them. Wear sunscreen.
My parents are almost finished with their move. I imagine my father will want his convertible back before Thanksgiving. It will be a sad day when I have to hand the keys over. Maybe I can stall until Christmas.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Holy Hubbub - Part 1
Growing up on the other side of the parsonage door gives you a completely different perspective on high holy days. Planning for an Easter worship service an hour in length takes weeks of preparation, research and prayer. Throw in Ash Wednesday, six weeks of Lenten services, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and extemporaneous obligations, throw in a funeral and perhaps some family time and you have an exhausting schedule.
Most of the time that my father has been a pastor in the Dakotas United Methodist church, he has ministered to two or more churches in one parish. Double the above schedule and you will understand why Easter lunch is often followed by a coma that lasts until Tuesday!
As an adult serving in ministry to a local church, I, too, spend hours preparing for Lent and Easter. And I love it! Our clown team ministry has been practicing for the Good Friday for months.
This year, we appeared on the noon show of a local television station. It was an exciting time, trying to see the Good Friday Passion Remembrance from the other side of the camera lens. Would people understand what we were trying to portray? Is our interpretation of the Gospel scripturally accurate? Does everyone's hair look OK?
Being on television was an interesting experience to me. Minutes before leaving for the interview, I was still trying to decide how my hair looked up, down and half up/half down. Seeking counsel from my brother, who wears his hair the same way every day, was of very little help. I flew out of the door with moments to spare, imagining the cloud of wildness that my hair had become from all of the extra primping. The interview was far less stressful than actually being on television. The interviewer was amazing and instantly made me feel at ease. Once the camera was on, the words flowed from my lips in mostly-intelligent sentences. The five minutes went quickly and I was surprised when the lights went out and I was free to go. Cool!
Our church offers a prayer labyrinth during Holy Week. Participants are guided by narration from a CD as they move from station to station. As the labyrinth begins the journey toward the center, you are encouraged to shed those worries, fears and unforgiveness that keeps you from a closer relationship with God. The center of the labyrinth is a time of communion with the Lord, a time of quiet listening. As you start the journey back out of the labyrinth, you are prepared to take your experience out into the world to share God's love with others. It is a powerful experience that provides quiet, healing and sanctuary to many who walk the prayer path.
An amazing encounter with God is something you just can't keep for yourself. We decided to open our prayer labyrinth to the public and promote this opporunity. The local paper called and offered to do a story on the labyrinth. A very kind, capable reporter came to my office to do an interview and the paper's photographer came the next day to take pictures at the church. Our church secretary met the photographer and he took an extraordinary picture of her lighting candles. A masterpiece! Then he came to my office to take my picture for the story. He is a patient, talented photographer who was got a good shot. My parents thought it was adorable! Vanity set in as I looked at my picture and ... surprise, surprise - interesting hair day!
In the midst of Lenten planning, I got a chance to do a radio interview with a local Christian radio station. Now this is my medium. I really like talking, I can use my notes and I can't be seen. The host was wonderful, asked great questions and helped me convey the message to the listeners. It was tons of fun and I liked watching them work with the technology that is radio. The word was out there. Now, we just needed to pray that people's hearts would be moved to come.
As I arrived at work after the interview, my brother came out to my desk to compliment me on the interview. I was flying pretty high. As a parting remark before he returned to his office, he told me that my hair had looked great on the radio!
Our youth group is preparing for the Good Friday Sunrise service on Easter at 7:30 a.m. They always do a terrific job leading this service and they leave their fingerprints all over it. Even sleep deprivated teenagers know that they have an important message to convey - Christ is Risen! Last night found our youth group practicing a song that will open the worship service. A liturgical movement (that on Easter morning could be more accurately named a lethargical movement!) opens our service. It's an upbeat version of the hymn "It Is Well" and they do it so very well. It is definitely worth getting up early for!
In the midst of the busyness of preparations and services, it is easy to lose focus. I do take deliberate time to "be still and know" that He is God. I will take my hour in our church's prayer vigil tomorrow morning. I will walk the prayer labyrinth, opened to His words spoken to me. My life has been purchased with a high price -- the life of Jesus, the Son of God. I am truly not worthy of that sacrifice. Yet God so loved me that He gave His only Son that if I would believe in Him would have eternal life. How do you thank God for such a gift? With prayer, praise and enthusiastic service! Let the hubbub begin.
Most of the time that my father has been a pastor in the Dakotas United Methodist church, he has ministered to two or more churches in one parish. Double the above schedule and you will understand why Easter lunch is often followed by a coma that lasts until Tuesday!
As an adult serving in ministry to a local church, I, too, spend hours preparing for Lent and Easter. And I love it! Our clown team ministry has been practicing for the Good Friday for months.
This year, we appeared on the noon show of a local television station. It was an exciting time, trying to see the Good Friday Passion Remembrance from the other side of the camera lens. Would people understand what we were trying to portray? Is our interpretation of the Gospel scripturally accurate? Does everyone's hair look OK?
Being on television was an interesting experience to me. Minutes before leaving for the interview, I was still trying to decide how my hair looked up, down and half up/half down. Seeking counsel from my brother, who wears his hair the same way every day, was of very little help. I flew out of the door with moments to spare, imagining the cloud of wildness that my hair had become from all of the extra primping. The interview was far less stressful than actually being on television. The interviewer was amazing and instantly made me feel at ease. Once the camera was on, the words flowed from my lips in mostly-intelligent sentences. The five minutes went quickly and I was surprised when the lights went out and I was free to go. Cool!
Our church offers a prayer labyrinth during Holy Week. Participants are guided by narration from a CD as they move from station to station. As the labyrinth begins the journey toward the center, you are encouraged to shed those worries, fears and unforgiveness that keeps you from a closer relationship with God. The center of the labyrinth is a time of communion with the Lord, a time of quiet listening. As you start the journey back out of the labyrinth, you are prepared to take your experience out into the world to share God's love with others. It is a powerful experience that provides quiet, healing and sanctuary to many who walk the prayer path.
An amazing encounter with God is something you just can't keep for yourself. We decided to open our prayer labyrinth to the public and promote this opporunity. The local paper called and offered to do a story on the labyrinth. A very kind, capable reporter came to my office to do an interview and the paper's photographer came the next day to take pictures at the church. Our church secretary met the photographer and he took an extraordinary picture of her lighting candles. A masterpiece! Then he came to my office to take my picture for the story. He is a patient, talented photographer who was got a good shot. My parents thought it was adorable! Vanity set in as I looked at my picture and ... surprise, surprise - interesting hair day!
In the midst of Lenten planning, I got a chance to do a radio interview with a local Christian radio station. Now this is my medium. I really like talking, I can use my notes and I can't be seen. The host was wonderful, asked great questions and helped me convey the message to the listeners. It was tons of fun and I liked watching them work with the technology that is radio. The word was out there. Now, we just needed to pray that people's hearts would be moved to come.
As I arrived at work after the interview, my brother came out to my desk to compliment me on the interview. I was flying pretty high. As a parting remark before he returned to his office, he told me that my hair had looked great on the radio!
Our youth group is preparing for the Good Friday Sunrise service on Easter at 7:30 a.m. They always do a terrific job leading this service and they leave their fingerprints all over it. Even sleep deprivated teenagers know that they have an important message to convey - Christ is Risen! Last night found our youth group practicing a song that will open the worship service. A liturgical movement (that on Easter morning could be more accurately named a lethargical movement!) opens our service. It's an upbeat version of the hymn "It Is Well" and they do it so very well. It is definitely worth getting up early for!
In the midst of the busyness of preparations and services, it is easy to lose focus. I do take deliberate time to "be still and know" that He is God. I will take my hour in our church's prayer vigil tomorrow morning. I will walk the prayer labyrinth, opened to His words spoken to me. My life has been purchased with a high price -- the life of Jesus, the Son of God. I am truly not worthy of that sacrifice. Yet God so loved me that He gave His only Son that if I would believe in Him would have eternal life. How do you thank God for such a gift? With prayer, praise and enthusiastic service! Let the hubbub begin.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
School Lunch
While digesting the Sunday newspaper, I often like to make a stop at the school lunch menus for area schools. Its interesting to see what culinary mastepiece my nephews will be enjoying in the coming days. I get an inside view of my nephews' school lunch experience when they visit my brothers' office right after school. Sometimes I will ask them what they had for lunch and how it tasted. Menu items that sound delicious often get a mere "it was OK", while other entrees receive an immediate thumbs down.
There is a definite difference between menus for public schools and private schools. The private school students are often dining on tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches or hot dogs and chips, while public school students have more processed foods - nacho boat and french toast sticks.
You may wonder why I have such an interest in school lunch as I am a bit more mature than the average school aged teen. Well, I remember back in the day when I was a fresh faced student staring down macaroni and cheese and hamburger gravy over instant mashed potatoes. There were definitely favorites on the menu, like hot dogs and grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. There were also infamous lunch choices that no one ate willingly such as tater tot hotdish (or as we called it, tater tot snot squish -- sorry for the squeamish!) and weiner bean hotdish. Those were the days before government regulated nutrition, salad bars and nachos.
Cold lunch was not always an option, but occasionally I was granted permission to carry my Strawberry Shortcake lunch box to school filled with a summer sausage sandwich. Lucky cold lunch students could make trades amongst themselves and sometimes I would even score a twinky!
I have been reading an blog written by an elementary school teacher called Fed Up With School Lunch. This teacher has challenged herself to eat school lunch for a year while anonymously documenting her meals and taking pictures of her tray on the sly. Fear of job loss has kept her from revealing her identity, so there is no identifying informtion or school location hints. I have enjoyed reading her critiques of school pizza, chicken nuggets and kid friendly fruit cups. From her comments, I have decerned that she prefers organic foods and eats very little meat at home. Being a steak fan who thinks that organic is code for "expense", I take some of what she writes with a grain of salt.
However, she makes a great point when she observed that the average lunch break at her school is only 13 minutes long. Talk about hog and jog! These children have thirteen minutes to stand in line, get their food, find a place to sit, eat, put their trays away and get back in line to go to their classroom. I can't even imagine what would happen if they have unpeeled oranges on the menu!
I believe that it's important to feed our school students a nutritious, kid friendly, tasty meal. I also know that doing all three at once is almost impossible.
When my after school kids come to church on Wednesday afternoons, snack is the first item on the agenda. They are ravenous! We try to provide more than just a cookie or a cupcake because some of the children have passed on an unpopular lunch choice and haven't eaten since breakfast. Their favorite snack is pizza with a sweet treat on the side. I have seen them consume everything in sight and come back looking for more.
I'm sure we all have those school lunch stories -- the good, the bad and the ugly. So, speak up! I'd love to hear your thoughts!
There is a definite difference between menus for public schools and private schools. The private school students are often dining on tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches or hot dogs and chips, while public school students have more processed foods - nacho boat and french toast sticks.
You may wonder why I have such an interest in school lunch as I am a bit more mature than the average school aged teen. Well, I remember back in the day when I was a fresh faced student staring down macaroni and cheese and hamburger gravy over instant mashed potatoes. There were definitely favorites on the menu, like hot dogs and grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. There were also infamous lunch choices that no one ate willingly such as tater tot hotdish (or as we called it, tater tot snot squish -- sorry for the squeamish!) and weiner bean hotdish. Those were the days before government regulated nutrition, salad bars and nachos.
Cold lunch was not always an option, but occasionally I was granted permission to carry my Strawberry Shortcake lunch box to school filled with a summer sausage sandwich. Lucky cold lunch students could make trades amongst themselves and sometimes I would even score a twinky!
I have been reading an blog written by an elementary school teacher called Fed Up With School Lunch. This teacher has challenged herself to eat school lunch for a year while anonymously documenting her meals and taking pictures of her tray on the sly. Fear of job loss has kept her from revealing her identity, so there is no identifying informtion or school location hints. I have enjoyed reading her critiques of school pizza, chicken nuggets and kid friendly fruit cups. From her comments, I have decerned that she prefers organic foods and eats very little meat at home. Being a steak fan who thinks that organic is code for "expense", I take some of what she writes with a grain of salt.
However, she makes a great point when she observed that the average lunch break at her school is only 13 minutes long. Talk about hog and jog! These children have thirteen minutes to stand in line, get their food, find a place to sit, eat, put their trays away and get back in line to go to their classroom. I can't even imagine what would happen if they have unpeeled oranges on the menu!
I believe that it's important to feed our school students a nutritious, kid friendly, tasty meal. I also know that doing all three at once is almost impossible.
When my after school kids come to church on Wednesday afternoons, snack is the first item on the agenda. They are ravenous! We try to provide more than just a cookie or a cupcake because some of the children have passed on an unpopular lunch choice and haven't eaten since breakfast. Their favorite snack is pizza with a sweet treat on the side. I have seen them consume everything in sight and come back looking for more.
I'm sure we all have those school lunch stories -- the good, the bad and the ugly. So, speak up! I'd love to hear your thoughts!
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