Thursday, February 26, 2009

One Christmas, when Dane was ten or eleven, he could not come up with a single thing he wanted for Christmas. We brainstormed for ideas. How about a new game for his Nintendo? No. How about a different game system? No. How about a cool sweatshirt? No. He really didn't want anything. It was okay. Really.

Then one day out of the blue, it came to him, "I figured out what I want and it's all I want."

"Well, perfect. Soooo? What is it?", I was impatient for him to cough up his one wish.

"A gas machine", he answered firmly. "I want my own gas machine."

A gas machine? I figured he must be talking about a matchbox car set that had little gas stations. I'd never thought he was that into matchbox cars but maybe pretending he was filling them up with gas was going to make all the difference for him. Whatever. It would be one-stop shopping and I'd be done. Woo-hoo.

"Like from the Dentist's office", he added helpfully.

"A gas machine from the DENTIST'S OFFICE????", I hardly knew how to respond. "And when were you planning on using this gas machine?"

"You know, like when I get home from school and stuff. I like that floatie feeling it gives me."

I thought it was one of the funniest things he'd ever come up with. Bob thought it was one of the scariest...thinking it a very real possibility that we'd introduced Dane to a world of recreational drugs from which there would be no return.

The recent youtube video of a little boy after his own "gas machine" experience reminded my daughter of Dane's singular wish list. I have a hunch that that little boy does not want one for Christmas. I think it's hilarious. Because it's REAL life. Real life is ALWAYS the funniest.

O'Reilly has a pinhead and patriot segment on his program. He deemed me to be a pinhead (and millions of others) because I love watching (and re-watching) the youtube video of a British baby biting his brother's finger. I'm sure O'Reilly has just as much disdain for those of us that were amused by the drugged up little boy. Well, I say, "LIGHTEN UP!"

It's not as if these aren't educational experiences.
Let's see, a little boy sticks his finger in his baby brother's mouth, it gets bit. Does it again, it gets bit. He learns it's not such a good idea to stick his finger in his brother's mouth and we all get to laugh about it. Watch it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OBlgSz8sSM

Next scenario, a little boy is "put under" for some dental work. Coming out of it, he gets a little freaked out by his double vision and other unfamiliar (but temporary!!) sensations . We learn that we can utilize these teachable moments to scare the child straight. Watch it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=txqiwrbYGrs

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Isn't laughter one of the greatest gifts God gave us? We're the only species on earth that have this ability. Sharing a good laugh makes us feel connected...much like a really good cry (another ability reserved exclusively for human beings).

I was down in Florida visiting my parents when I came upon an interesting factoid claiming an average four year old laughs about 400 times a day while an average adult laughs only about 15 times a day. I was curious how many times my dad thought he laughed in a day. He figured he and my mom laughed at least 100 times a day. My dad was not prone to exaggeration. In fact, to my knowledge, he never exaggerated at all. Perhaps because of his background as a pilot and an engineer, he was more apt to make calculated guesses. Thus, there was no doubt in my mind that he and my mom really were laughing that much. It occurred to me Bob and I weren't having near as much fun and that our comparatively paltry amount of shared laughter might be propelling us towards the big "D" (just kidding, Babe).

My dad laughed easily and often. I'm happy to say I personally made him laugh easily and often. Oh, how I miss that big laugh of his!  Providentially, I made a television debut in 1980 that made him laugh for almost twenty years.

At the time I worked part time at my parents' travel agency and was often used as an errand girl. I've never been a morning person, always running late and taking minimal time to get ready. That particular morning was especially hectic. I'd overslept and didn't have time to shower or put on make-up. When I got to work, they sent me out to the store to pick up a few items. When I got to the store I noticed a news crew set up in the parking lot. I vaguely wondered what the "big story" was but was
more concerned about getting in and out of there without being seen by anyone. Just as I was about
ten paces from the door, this news crew started running towards me, like I was the big story. I tried to ignore them and picked up my pace a bit. They were persistent, saying they just had a few quick questions. Fine. They'd realize soon enough that I didn't know jack about whatever it was they were covering.

"Did you vote yesterday?" the reporter asked, putting a microphone up to my face.

I couldn't have looked more bewildered. You would have thought I'd never heard of the word "vote." What in the world would I have voted about?

I managed a meek, "Uh...no I didn't."

"Can you tell us why you didn't vote?" the man persisted.

Deciding honesty was the best policy, I answered, "I guess it was just...ignorance."

That seemed to satisfy them and they went on to find their next victim.

I didn't really think much more about it until I got home and was eating dinner with my parents. I told them about my "interview" that morning.

"You don't think they'd ever put that on...do you?" The idea horrified me. I didn't want anyone to see me like that, much less an entire television audience. "What vote were they talking about anyway?"

Turns out is was Michigan's primary and there had been an unusually low voter turnout. Please God, don't let me be on TV.

My dad turned to the right channel and just as we tuned in they started the segment with, "Here are some of the reasons voters gave for not voting in yesterday's primary..."

And there was my greasy, bigger than life face blazoned across the TV screen, squeaking out the excuse "Ignorance." The "I guess it was just" part didn't make the cut, just the word "ignorance."

My dad howled with laughter. Every time I thought he had exhausted the laughter out of his system, he'd look at me and imitate my nasally, squeaky voice and say: "Ignorance." It would get him roaring all over again.

From that point on (at least once a year), something would remind him of it, and he'd look at me and say, "ignorance" and laugh just as hard as if he had just witnessed it. It made me happy I'd done something that could make my dad laugh that heartily, for that many years.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Regret. I think that has to be one of the saddest words in the English language. Think of the devastating, life changing news that follow the words "we regret to inform you...." All of us, in one way or another have been on the receiving end of that kind of regret.


But what about personal regrets? Every time I hear the song "My Way" I think what a crock the words "regrets, I've had a few, but then again, too few to mention" are. Do you really think anyone has too few regrets to mention? The person who does life his way will certainly regret it when he meets his Maker. Like someone once said, you can't say, "Thy kingdom come" without first saying "my kingdom go." Everything not done God's way is, well, regretful. Everyone who doesn't love God with all his heart, mind and soul and love others as himself will regret it (Lk. 10:27), and since there's not one of us who has lived this out perfectly, we all have regrets.

Shortly before my dad died my mom mentioned that it hurt Dad's feelings when we called and only talked to her. I made a mental note to always talk to him, too. Two days before he died I had a lengthy conversation (most of them are) with my mom. As we were wrapping it up she made a point to ask if I'd like to talk to Dad. I was pressed for time and said I'd be sure talk to him next time. There would be no next time. How hideously regrettable.

My younger brother never forgot to call me on my birthday. On my 40th he called and left me a sweet message, teasing me about being "over the hill." He called me a second time and even though I looked and saw that it was him I decided I'd call him back when it was more "convenient." There would be no "convenient" time; I never got a chance to talk to him again. Regrets...I have too many to mention.


I read a quote recently that said, "We must all suffer from one of two pains: the pain of discipline or the pain of regret. The difference is discipline weighs ounces while regret weighs tons." The good news is that discipline is an option. We as Christians have been given the power (through the Holy Spirit) to live a life without regrets. When I was in Bible Study Fellowship, a former teaching leader (Sheila Nielson) suggested that we start every morning reminding ourselves that we are "dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus" (Rom. 6:11).

Temptation will come but He has promised to provide a way of escape (1 Cor. 10:13). C.S. Lewis wrote: "A silly idea is current that good people do not know what temptation means. This is an obvious lie. Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is...a man who gives into temptation after five minutes simply does not know what it would have been like an hour later. That is why bad people, in one sense, know very little about badness. They have lived a sheltered life by always giving in."

The truly wonderful news is that God does not want us to wallow in our regrets, he doesn't want us to carry around the weight of a"ton" of regrets. One of Satan's favorite strategies is to keep us feeling ashamed and worthless because of past wrong choices, and I am especially susceptable to this strategy. Thankfully, God doesn't work that way, He assures us "there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Rom. 8:1), that He will remember our sins no more (Heb. 8:12). God promises to forgive us and never bring up our sin again (Ps. 103:12).

Satan will always point to our past because he knows it cannot be changed but Jesus points us to our future because it has yet to be written. I love Joseph Stowell's words, "A refreshing plunge into God's mercy awaits us on the other side of confessed sin." Someone else said that "though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending." How refreshing!

Monday, February 2, 2009

My friend Kelly "awarded" me a blog assignment. I'm supposed to come up with ten "honest crap" things about myself to share with you. She shared ten "honest crap" things about herself and as usual she made me laugh out loud. She even mentioned me in it... I was quite flattered! I've had an especially hectic week (and Brett has not been cooperative) so I only managed to come with five "honest crap" things about myself.
So here goes....

1.) I have a staring problem. I'm not conscious of doing it but I have had a few people suggest that I take a picture--"because it will last longer." Friends have kindly pointed out that my staring sometimes comes across as rude and quite frankly, kind of weird. I am trying to curb it, but my uncanny recollection of physical details suggests that I haven't been successful. Often if I am asked if I've ever met so and so, I might try and ascertain her identity with something like, "Are you talking about the girl with the small feet and the semi-big nostrils?" Bingo. That's the one.

2.) I've never been impressed with celebrities. When we were little, my cousin Stacey insisted she was in love with Tom Jones. She had all of his albums and posters of him taped to the walls of her bedroom. How could you be in love with someone you didn't even know....or even met before? This was the height of silliness in my mind. I can distinctly remember being aggravated that she would rather moon over pictures of Tom Jones than play with Chrissy and Velvet. Chrissy and Velvet were dolls that had hair that you could crank in and out of their skulls, depending on whether you wanted them to have long or short hair. They were very cool dolls...much cooler than Tom Jones.

3.) I don't like to sing. Driving home from church one Sunday I inexplicably, out of the blue, screeched out "He could have called 10,000 angels!" The car literally rocked with laughter. I wasn't surprised that my brothers were laughing at me but my mom was doubled over with laughter, too. Shockingly enough, even my dad was laughing. Mortified, I immediately started crying. But even my tears didn't serve to stifle my mom's laughter. When she was finally able to catch her breath, she tried to explain (amid fresh bouts of laughter) that it wasn't that it was bad singing, it was just the incredibly high notes I hit that had spawned all the hilarity. Whatever. That happened when I was in fourth grade and I haven't tried to belt out a note since.

4.) I am fiercely patriotic. I know I am blessed to live in the greatest country on earth. I am always moved by a well done performance of the Star Spangled Banner (like Jennifer Hudson's at the Super Bowl). The first time I flew into Alaska my heart swelled with the realization that this is what they meant by "purple mountains majesty!" America truly is beautiful "from sea to shining sea."

5. )I'm just now learning to appreciate music. My cousin (the same one who was in love with Tom Jones) plays the violin. She plays it beautifully. She plays it in symphonies. When we were younger, she played it at every family get together. I can remember praying she would forget to bring her violin. She never did. It seemed like an interminable amount of time that we had to sit still and listen to her play. I was especially impatient with the whole tuning rigmarole. Why did she have to tune it every time? How could it get un-tuned so fast anyway? Now I love hearing her play.

Not long ago I tuned in to an Academy Awards show just as they were handing out the award for best musical score (a snoozer of an award). To illustrate just how important a movie's musical score is, they showed clips from movies without the music. The hills were definitely not alive watching Maria running around on them without the music, and the shark in Jaws didn't seem nearly as menacing. Music does make all the difference.

I have come so far in my appreciation of music that American Idol is one of only two shows that I regularly watch on T.V.

So there you have it. Five totally "honest crap" things about myself.