Letting Go

My dad sometimes went to the “shop” at the barn to work on various contraptions and sometimes I was lucky enough to be able to go with him! I LOVED to go to the barn, dig in the dirt, play in mud puddles, watch the baby calves, talk to my poppa and climb on the tractors. I was well aware of the bull pen and the fact that it was enclosed by an electric fence. As a little girl, I didn’t know what “electrical shock” was, but it sounded really scary to me…not to mention the fact that my mother had told me a thousand times to “stay away from the bull pen, because the electric fence might shock you and you might die.” (Side note: She also told me that if I touched a cat I would get cat scratch fever and die.) Needless to say, I kept my distance…well, all except one day.

For some reason on this particular Fall day, my dad had to go into the bull pen to do something for my poppa. Because I was afraid of the bull myself and had been told he was so mean, I was concerned about my dad being inside the pen. I watched the bull intently, as if I were going to step in the pen and fight him if he made a move even remotely in my dad’s direction (I don’t know where I was going to find a cape). I’m not sure what the bull did, and he may have even twitched because a fly had landed on him, but out of fear for my dad, I reached out to the fence to hold on and yell at my dad to “watch out!” In my moment of concern and without thinking about my mother’s words of warning about “electrical shock”, I learned what it meant. I didn’t only grab the fence, but the fence grabbed me. I cried, screamed and pulled and pulled, but the fence would NOT let go! My dad, being the hero that he is, ran to my rescue and after a few seconds, or what seemed minutes, he was able to pull me away from the clutches of the fence. I was crying hysterically (and shocked at the same time that I didn’t die) and hugged my dad so tightly because I was so afraid and in a lot of pain. All 10 of my fingers were blistered and hurt so badly it hurt to touch anything. The blisters remained for a couple of weeks and were a constant reminder of the pain and fear I had experienced in the blink of an eye.

How similar life experiences have been since then when “letting go” has been so difficult in so many situations. Whether it be letting go of a loved one who has left this world or just stepped out of my life, someone who has hurt me with words said or actions made, maybe I’ve been in a situation where I have become complacent, etc., etc…I can cry, scream, pull and pull, but it’s impossible for me to let go alone. Many times, the pain seems to linger. My Heavenly Father, being the hero that He is, runs to my rescue and pulls me from the clutches of the struggle. While my “blisters” are only temporary, the permanent scars in His hands are the only reminder I need that He is the only One who can pull me away from the clutches of bondage and pain and allow me to “let go”. “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

Butterflies, Holy Macaroni and CHIPS

Many people will cross our paths during our lifetimes, but Esther Perry has been one of the most prominent characters in mine. Every summer day she would put on her halter top and shorts, I would put on my t-shirt and shorts, and we would head out to save the world, solve a crime, teach a class or be heroes…we never knew what our day might bring.

Some days we would ride our bikes until our legs felt like jello, pretending to be Ponch and John from CHIPS. Some days we would pretend to get married to our latest crush…”Today, we are here to join this man and this woman in Holy Macaroni.”

I can remember walking barefoot through rocks and making mud pies with her. I remember singing songs with her, and I remember when she hit me with the stick from our stick ball game. However painful or happy any of those memories are, I wouldn’t trade a single one…they contributed in making me who and what I am today.

When I was a little girl, I was more afraid of butterflies than the thought of a monster in the dark. Oh, how my neighbors would torture me with butterflies. I was a short, little, chubby girl who loved to play outside, drink kool-aid and draw in the dirt. Esther, my neighbor, cousin and closest friend, would catch a butterfly by the wings, chase me with it and tease me until I cried.

As I have grown, I have realized the great bond Esther and I have shared through the years. She is someone who is real…no judgments, no assumptions. When I got married, she was in my wedding. She wrote and recited this poem as we were getting ready:

I remember skating on the porch,
And playing football in the yard.
I remember that you would run home crying
Because Neal threw the ball too hard.

I remember that big ‘ole rock
Where we piled the leaves so high.
We would run and take a flying leap
As if we could touch the sky.

I remember riding bikes and playing CHIPS
All day long.
We’d always fight over who was Ponch
And who got to sing the song.

I remember we had a dirt track
For our Hot Wheels on the hill
And I was wondering…
Do you run away from butterflies still?

I remember playing “Holy Macaroni,”
And singing “I’ve Been Redeemed.”
This day didn’t take as long to get here
As it so long ago seemed.

We then grew to be teenagers,
And we went our separate ways,
But it’s the bond we made as children
That brings us together again today.

When I gave birth to my sweet, little girls, she always came to visit. When I got divorced, she encouraged me. Every year on her birthday, March 29, I reflect on the many wonderful memories of our childhood together. I’m not afraid of butterflies anymore. The memories of her chasing me with one make me giggle and make for great stories to share with my girls.

Happy birthday, Esther! We've come a long way!

Transition and Provision

A little more than 11 years ago I was sitting in this same place attempting to put on paper what thoughts were running through my mind.  At the time, I was a new mother with a precious baby at home to whom I wanted to devote EVERY moment loving, nurturing and teaching her all that I could possible squeeze into each day.  I had been employed by the Executive Board of the Tennessee Baptist Convention (TBC) since 1996, and they allowed me to slowly transition back into my full-time position.  While I was so very grateful, my heart and mind were at home with my new gift.  God answered my prayer in a very definitive way making it possible for me to resign my position at the TBC and assume my new role as a stay-at-home mom.

A little more than 7 years ago, life's challenges led me to a point where I would need to find employment outside my home, once again.  God had already been at work, just as He always is, and there was a position at TBC that I would eventually fill.  That part-time position would prove to be an eye-opening, God-sized reminder that He certainly wasn't through with me yet. 

Since that time, I have been allowed to experience so many different character-building moments among Christian brothers and sisters who have taken me under their wings.

Here I am again with a God-given opportunity to invest more of my time at home with both of my sweet girls.  In November, the TBC entrusted me to coordinate the first-ever Vendor Exhibit Hall.  Little did I know that God's plan would include more than just communicating with vendors and acting as their liaison.  COSCO & Associates, Inc., was one of those vendors and they began communicating with me regarding the possibility of joining their team.

In January, I was offered a position with them to work out of my home full-time...another reminder that God still isn't finished with me!  :)  After MUCH prayer, consideration, and counsel from friends and family, I decided to resign my position at the TBC, effective March 29, 2012, and will be joining the sales team of COSCO & Associates, Inc. April 1. 

COSCO & Associates, Inc. is a company which has specialized exclusively in the design and build of churches and church-related facilities across the country for over 43 years.  Their passion and calling is to assist churches in building church structures that will facilitate worship and make visions realities as well as sharing a common goal with the local church in the desire to build God’s Kingdom.  COSCO provides numerous, unique services to churches including no “up-front” money from the church and providing a GUARANTEED MAXIMUM PRICE CONTRACT once the design is completed. 

While I am excited to begin a new phase in my life, at the same time I will always be grateful and mindful of the TBC and all the ways my heart has been blessed...and the ways I have grown.  I am thankful a thousand times over for the opportunities I have had in serving the Lord alongside so many faithful servants.  The relationships I have built with church leaders across this state are invaluable to me.  I look forward to continuing those relationships, as well as buildnig new relationships and partnering with church leaders of all denominations across the country in building God's Kingdom.  Visit our website http://www.churchdesign.com/!

Stretch Armstrong

From very early in my life, I felt like it was my responsibility as a little sister to make sure I played with every toy my big brother ever got to the point of aggravating him as much as I possibly could.  Not only did I take my “responsibility” very seriously, I happened to like many of his toys much more than I did my own.   Many times I would play so rough with his toys, I would end up breaking something and he would get so angry with me!  J

Christmas 1979 was a present year for my brother that I will never forget!  He got a “Stretch Armstrong!”  For anyone not familiar with this nostalgic figure, I included his picture!  Now, to most, he would look like just some other Hulk Hogan type phenomena in a box, but Stretch was cooler than any WWF wrestler we could ever know…even Jake, “the Snake” (I will share my WWF knowledge with you another day, haha). 

Stretch Armstrong was a doll that was about 15 inches tall.  Wikipedia says that Stretch was made of “latex rubber, filled with gelled corn syrup.”  The fascination with him was that when you pulled on his arms and legs, he could stretch from his original size up to four or five feet!  Can you imagine how amazing that was?  I pulled and pulled at him trying to stretch him as far as I possibly could.  Yes, it was cool that he would “stretch” like that, but looking back, I really wanted to know what would happen if he was stretched farther than he could go.  More importantly, because there wasn’t an encyclopedia, like our Wikipedia, now, that would allow me to know exactly what was inside.  Plus, when I would pull and pull to make him bigger than myself, he would immediately begin to retract into his original 15 inch size and shape.

I was sitting in the Atlanta airport on Sunday during a 3-hour layover.  I was alone (of course, in theory, I wasn’t really alone, because that airport is ALWAYS full), but I was travelling without a companion.  I called my friend, Linda, to check in and just to chat.  I was a little emotional because of many factors and after listening to a few sniffs, Linda said something to me that I needed to hear.  “Isn’t it amazing how God STRETCHES us to show us how to depend on Him more?”  That question opened up a conversation that changed my tears of sadness and loneliness into a smile and a feeling that His arms were wrapped around me.

When we hung up, Stretch Armstrong came to my mind.  I would pull and pull on him trying to stretch him so far so he would burst open and I could finally see for myself what was inside!  It’s amazing to me how God stretches us WAY beyond ourselves, and it’s not a test for Him to see what we have inside, but it’s how He shows US what we have inside ourselves.  It’s how we learn to depend on Him to retract us into the shape that HE wants for us.  The fabulous thing about all of it is that if we stretch to the point that we break, He knows how to put us back together.  In fact, He does His best work when we’ve reached the end of ourselves. 

Stretch Armstrong’s arms would stretch up to 4 or 5 feet.  Jesus’ arms stretched out on a cross.  Stretch Armstrong had corn syrup running through his body.  I’ve got Jesus living in my heart.

We're Playing Bas-ket-ball, We Love that Bas-ket-ball

Both of my girls wanted to sign up to play basketball this year.  I had tried to hard not to influence them either way, so when they decided they wanted to play, I was ecstatic!  :)  While I had volunteered the past few years to coach, I had decided at the end of the last basketball season that retirement might be good for me.  Who would have thought that coaching recreation basketball could be so stressful...of course, when you tend to be competitive, stress is always a factor. 

Two weeks ago, Lauren's team was playing a strong team from a different community...somewhat of a rival community...a rival community since I was in the 2nd grade.  Watching from the stands would be a difficult task.  At the end of the first half, I only had about 2 nails left that I hadn't bitten.  As the third quarter began, I could feel the tension rising from the other side of the court where Lauren's coach was standing.  He had spent a lot of time, although no more than usual, yelling at the referees rather than keeping the girls' minds on the game.  While that is my opinion, the referees obviously agreed with me, as the next thing I knew, they were huddled around him and eventually escorting him out of the gym. 

Ever get that feeling inside that you HAVE to do something?  You know, like you feel as if everyone and everything around you becomes a blur and then a huge light comes on with a voice that says, "You better do something."  Okay, okay, maybe it's not that way for everyone, but suddenly, I felt like some unknown force was lifting me out of my seat and sending me over to take care of business.  Well, how could I argue with such a force?  In my high-heel, black boots, I began walking.  I passed the coach as he walked (aided by a couple of guys) out and politely asked him if he minded if I went and helped...as if he were going to change my mind.  :)  There were 7 pairs of eyes glued to me as I got my piece of paper out and told them what we were about to do.  They listened and rallied...it was like a new group of girls had hit the floor.

Over the course of the next week, changes took place.  The recreation officials contacted our community leaders and said, "I don't know who the woman was that came out of the stands to help, but we saw a whole new ballgame for the last quarter and a half." 

This past Saturday was my first game back as a coach, and I cannot begin to tell how invigorating it was to watch the team execute the new style of play they had learned in just a week.  What style is that?  It's a style that my Lady Patriot peeps still understand well, I'm sure.  In fact, I've seen Stephanie B. and Kelly L. enforcing that style this season with their own teams.  It's fundamentals...dribbling, shooting, passing (BOUNCE passes)...and my favorite, HUSTLE...making teamwork inevitable.   

You've Got to Give It Away

"He took me to people with gifts that I needed, gifts of healing, acceptance, and joy. They gave me their gifts to take on my journey, our journey, God’s and mine.

And we were off again. He said, “Give the gifts away. They’re extra baggage, too much weight.” So I did, to the people we met, and I found that in giving I received, and still our burden was light." (From a poem by an unknown author in my first blog entry, "The Bike Ride" )

Six years ago I became a single parent...on paper that is.  Two years prior, I realized my marriage was failing. For a while, all I could do was sit on the couch in my pajamas and stare, trying to figure out if I knew how to clean the house.  Although I joke a lot when I write, I'm being serious when I say that I couldn't figure out how to do the smallest chore. 

Several people stand out in my mind as rocks who gave me something to hold onto so as to keep me from drowning in that horrible, downward spiral that seemed so dark.  My pastor's wife, Debi, recognized my hurt and sadness and shared so many words of wisdom with me that I call to mind today.  My neighbors, Scott and Kelly, were my coaches.  Both my pastor's wife and my neighbors never hesitated to offer me gifts of healing, acceptance and joy.  Sometimes, they were in the form of words, sometimes tears, many times a hug and even though it was hard to come by, there was laughter. While now my neighbors are someone else's neighbors, every time I see them, I am blessed by their generous offerings of the same gifts, only now, there's a whole lot more laughter.

Going to work full-time was a challenge, because I had been at home being mommy for several years.  I had to brush off the bubbles and baby powder and jump back in to e-mails and earning a paycheck.  I was hired full-time in November and Aurie came to work in January.  She quickly became like a sister to me.  She, herself, had plenty of wisdom to share with me...many times it began, and still begins, with "My mama always said..."  God knew exactly what He was doing.  She offered me gifts of healing, acceptance and joy.  She never hesitates to share those gifts with me today. 

I am often amazed at the way God presents me with someone who needs me to share those same gifts with them.  I've been at gymnastics, at the community pool, at church, at work, at school, at the grocery store, and many, many other places, along with phone calls, when many times someone who barely knows me will share their story with me.  While often times I can't imagine why they would be coming to me, when it's all said and done, I realize it's that I've been given special gifts... of healing, acceptance and joy...and it's simply my turn and how could I hesitate to give them away...they are "extra baggage, too much weight.  I find in giving, I receive, and still, our burden is light." 

"And when I'm sure I can't do it any more, He just smiles and says, 'Pedal.'"

Snakes and Elves and Santa Claus' Tale...

In the past few years I have made it a habit to decorate for Christmas the weekend after Thanksgiving. This year, my intentions were the same, however, it just didn't happen. So, the girls were gone to their dad's last weekend and on Friday night, I decided to get everything out and begin. I would put up the tree and the girls would decorate when they got home on Sunday night. Of course, there were more things to do than just the tree, like decorating the mailbox, putting the lights on the shrubbery and putting other decorations in their place. All of my plans came to an abrupt halt, because evidently, I have had a very special (yes, I'm being sarcastic), unwelcome Christmas guest in the garage storage closet...a snake. I'm going to spare you the details of how I discovered this varmint. I will tell you, however, that I pulled the Christmas tree box out into the garage, left the light on (as if the critter needed it)and ran inside for my life. I was the lunatic in the 'ville the next morning pushing the box over and chasing the sections of the tree down my hilly driveway giving the snake one last chance to escape...THANK GOODNESS the snake wasn't in the box, in the tree or still around...COILED around anything

My girls, 10 and 8, had not been introduced to the "Christmas Elf" tradition until last year...which, at the same time, I lost what little sanity I had remaining. Our elves, Buddy and Rosie, will now arrive around December 1 every year and go home with Santa on his sleigh on Christmas Eve. In the meantime, they wreak havoc in our home...as if we didn't already have that. Those elves are the most mischievous little creatures I've ever met! Some of their shenanigans take me a while to clean up...like rolling the living room, making "snow angels" in the sugar, and drinking syrup and eating marshmallows leaving a trail all over the kitchen! I've been threatening to send them back early (because their helper is getting tired - wink, wink). Although, when I say I'm sending them back early, I see my youngest tear up because she LOVES this daily mystery of waking up to see what they've done. So, I suck it up and begin planning the next adventure.

Santa Claus. Yes, I have a 5th grader and a 3rd grader. They've heard at school that "Santa Claus isn't real." However, there's something about the sparkle I see in their eyes when they ask me if that's the truth and I ask,"What do you think?" I'm not sure if the sparkle is because it gives them something to add to their imagination, if they think I'm lying or if they think maybe I still believe and they don't want to ruin it for me.

At any rate, the conversation ends, both girls giggle and they play along with me. Last Sunday the girls were part of their children's choir Christmas presentations. They stood so boldly and sang their hearts out about peace, love, joy and adoration...of our Savior, Jesus Christ. Last week, I attended a Christmas Chapel service that stirred my heart and reminded me that in ALL circumstances - pain, hurt, loss, joy, love, and the list goes on - He is Emmanuel - God with us. Last night I got to sing with the church choir and orchestra in our Christmas presentation. Different choir members sang unforgettable lyrics that will ring in my ears for a very long time..."it's still a mystery to me, that the hands of God could be so small, how tiny fingers reaching in the night were the very hands that measured the sky." "Oh, I believe and I will always sing, this little child, is THE KING!" Finally, "Baby Jesus, do you know you'll die for all our sins...don't be afraid 'cause in three days...YOU WILL RISE AGAIN! Oh, HALLELUJAH! The KING is here!"

My girls love the decorations (a snake not so much), laugh about the elves, question the reality of Santa Claus, and all of those things put that innocent sparkle in their eyes. For those trivial happenings of Christmas, I have no good, solid answer. However, when we talk about Jesus, all of our eyes light up with hope, we KNOW He lives in our hearts and we all know that Christmas is about God sending His only Son to be the Savior of the world.

Snakes and Elves and Santa Claus' Tale...that's NOT what Christmas is made of! :)