Indelible Words

Let's talk about tattoos.

In the 'olden days' only circus performers and military personnel got tattoos.

Now, it's rare that anyone over 18 is tattoo-free.  I find myself 'reading' people all the time; I figure if they went through all that discomfort to get the artwork done it's up to me to admire it.

But I can't imagine ever being committed enough to a design to have it permanently etched on my skin.  If I can't decide what earrings to wear with an outfit, I'm certainly not ready to pick out a tattoo.

However, many folks are more than eager to pick out something meaningful to carry with them the rest of their lives.  That's cool for them; I, on the other hand, am thankful I never got a picture of Donny Osmond inked onto my torso.

My computer recently displayed a photo that I can't get out of my mind.

The photo simply depicted a graceful woman's arm and hand, fingers apart. On the arm and hand was what looked like delicate lines of writing of some type.  The caption, paraphrased, said,
"Imagine if every word you spoke was tattooed on your skin."

It struck me that I was guilty of having a bad tattoo.  The words I speak at times are frivolous and meaningless, intended merely to take up space in a conversation.

Other times my words can be sarcastic or biting.  I would hate to have those words permanently displayed for the world to see.

But I also thought of the words I DIDN'T say- those words of comfort or encouragement.  The times I should have spoken about the Cross but I didn't.  I imagined blank patches of flesh unmarked by any words at all.

So my personal challenge is this:  I must be aware of my words, whether I say so many foolish things that the tattoo would have to be compressed and squished together so that they all fit in the area.

But I must also be mindful that not enough of the right kind of words can be a sterile slate.

Think about these things.

At the end of the day, do you want your indelible words to be beautiful or an embarrassment?

Coming Up For Air

It has been a looonng last few months. I haven't had time to do laundry (see prior blog) much less write on this blog.

It amazes me how time can fly when you're not thinking much or doing much.
I've been known to doodle away a week or so just getting lost in a book or shopping. I've become a fervent 'lady who lunches.'

But these last few weeks have dragged by. I've been dreading the passage of each day and here's why:

Change.

In January I was told that I needed to relocate my counseling office due to a change in ministry focus at Harvester Christian Church. They'd graciously extended scheduling and support since I'd become acquainted with them 9 years ago.

The process of striking out on my own and the details that are necessary really freaked me out.

I remember hearing this little inner voice (?) say, "I'm not old enough to do this."
Of course, I gave myself whiplash as I realized that I certainly AM old enough!
So that thought had to be surrendered.

Then dear daughter Kari told me she'd purchased her plane ticket to move to LA. I'd known for over a year that she and her husband Gareth had planned to make that move; that's why they were forcing themselves to live in our basement while working fiendishly to save up money to move.

It came to me that this was a big deal. That my family might never be the same as it was. That our future interactions would take work and planning.

My two weaknesses.

Along with that dear daughter was cast in a local production of Steel Magnolias.
Have you ever seen Steel Magnolias?

It's rough, I'll tell you. There was not a dry eye in the audience and I sobbed like a kid who dropped her ice cream cone on the ground.

I experienced grief and loss as I watched that play. It was a real tearjerker. And Kari played the Julia Roberts character who doesn't make it to the last scene.

I barely made it through that one.

So now she's moved forward in her life and Gareth will be joining her in a few weeks. I love her so much and will miss them both terribly. Everyone is telling me to Skype but I'm still trying to figure out how to email so it may take a while.

So now my office is moved, the pressure is off, and now it's time to come up for air. I feel like I've been in labor for three months.

I think I'll be okay. I'm blessed with helpful and irritating friends who love me too much to let me hide. They stayed away when I needed time to process stuff and kicked my rear end when I was overdoing it.
Believe me, when it's time to repay the favor I'll be there with great zeal...

I'm excited for the future, for the opportunities that might come my way.

But if you see me in the next few weeks, please ignore the twitch in my right eye and left shoulder. I've heard they will lessen over time.

Uh, Ok...

Computer woes are getting me again.

As many of you know, we have a new puppy.

A mouthy, rambunctious, bouncy, chewy, slobbery puppy.

He just doesn't know what's cool to pounce on and what isn't.

Bless his heart.

I say that because his favorite chew toy at this point is either ME or expensive computer wires.

...Bless his heart...

During my Christmas break I've had to stock up on bandages because Teddy surprises me and snags my ankle or wrist.

One time he almost pierced my nose (THAT took some explaining).

These last few days Don and I have been dogsitting along with tolerating our own playful pup.

Unfortunately, Teddy thinks these well-behaved, quiet, peaceful older dogs are new playmates (or chewtoys)and he has pestered them mercilessly.

Poor things. Bless their hearts.

Usually our visits with Jordie and Murphy are a delight; this time, however, I'm reminded of those commercials that feature starving children who woefully gaze at the camera. These dogs stare at me as if begging me to DO SOMETHING!!

Sorry, Dudes. You're on your own. I'm on my way to Walgreens to get more bandaids.

One More Thing...

Almost forgot to mention that today marks a big anniversary in my life.

On November 17, 1986 my bedraggled family and I limped into St. Charles, MO wondering what on earth God was thinking.

We'd just resigned from a staff position at a Christian school and had nowhere to go. We were confused and angry at the turn our lives had taken. We were embarassed that 2 college graduates with 2 toddlers and 7 years of marriage behind us could have so (meant NO) few options.

We'd sacrificed everything to be in ministry and had nothing to show for it; not even good memories of blessings we'd received through selfless service. We owned nothing and had no prospects.

Finally, out of desperation, we contacted my Dad in St. Louis to ask for advice. In his generosity, Dad and Milly jumped into their van, rented a u-haul trailer and came to help us out and bring us back with them.

I remember riding along with my Dad along Hwy 70 heading east. We passed a billboard advertising a tourist attraction and I asked, "What's the name of the town we're moving to?"

Thankfully, Dad had a condo he'd bought for an investment and he allowed us to move in there until we could get on our feet. It was really humbling, yet meaningful since that condo was the nicest place we'd lived in thus far.

During our time here in St. Louis, I've experienced so many blessings. Our lives have completely changed. Now as I look back, my anger and confusion has transformed to gratitude to recognize how we were being led to be here.

I think I drive my Dad crazy because I've make some kind of gratitude statement on this day every year. So let me push him a tad further to the 'happy home.'

Thanks, Dad and Milly, for all you've done for us and who you are in our lives.

We love you very much.