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Thursday, March 29, 2007

IS IT LATER YET, MOM?


Everyone together now: Cross your fingers to de-curse this blog.
YAY!


This Is My Favorite


Nestea Plunge, Anyone?



Grandmother Eye Candy






For Memaw & Papa



Heartbreaker, Curly, In My Favorite Tree

(He Hates That Name)



Finally, For Zac, The Patient Model



I think it's time to de-fragment our hard drive and documents...again.

It took me 30 minutes, five chocolate-marshmallow Easter eggs (b/c I'll be down in the mouth during Easter, people) and all the patience I could muster to bring you this most excellent blog.

I may soon not only wear, but coin a new term: Blogger's Butt.

I have to go walk now.

SPRING BREAK DRAMA

Spring Break is officially over as of this past Monday and things never did slow down. Some break!

We had visitors the weekend before Spring Break that left on Monday and then Dad and Mom pulled in Tuesday night.

The official "Porter Curse" wreaked havoc all week long, starting with Gerald's car breaking down on Wednesday, so into the shop it went. At least, we had Dad and Mom's car so that if we all wanted to venture out to eat or to see a local site, we could.

Wrong!

Thursday afternoon the air conditioner went out in their car, so into the shop it went.

Unfortunately for Dad and Mom, it was NOT an inexpensive fix.

Wednesday, we decided to turn on the air conditioner to make Dad and Mom more comfortable; you guessed it, the just-a-year-old air conditioner did not want to comply.

It tried but failed miserably.

Sniffles and sneezes were all around as trees and flowers were budding everywhere and pollen was leaving it's fine, yellow mist on anything and everything.

After two tries on two different days, the repairman decided that it was simply our thermostat and temporarily hooked up a plain old thermostat to replace the fancy-schmancy thermostat. We could turn on the air, hallelujah!

We're still waiting on our new fancy-schmancy thermostat that will hopefully run our air AND heat, not just one or the other. Such complications!

So, the air was up and running and, so far, it had cost us nothing but runny noses, swollen sinuses, red itchy eyes and a few, small grump-arguments.

Dad and Mom's car was fixed on Friday, as was Gerald's, and so we all ventured out legally restrained. I won't tell you what we did the previous two days.

Saturday dawned bright, sunny and weepy(Dad) as my parents headed back to Kansas City for much-needed rest before the Monday morning rat race.

Gerald tried catching up on some homework, then went and mowed the lawn of a friend that we help out. NCAA was on, so the weekend was pretty much shot.

Gerald and kids went back to school on Monday with a softball tournament, track and indoor soccer practices, newly assigned book reports and Band Camp looming on the horizon.

Oh yeah and I'm having my wisdom teeth taken out Easter weekend. Woohoo! Bah Humbug.

We're hosting a family again this weekend so I'm beginning to spruce up the house a bit; however, I was able to venture outside today to catch a few pictures while the trees and flowers are in full bloom.

And, try as I might, Blogger is not willing right now to upload the images so you'll have to check back later this evening to see the pictures.

Just another affirmation of the Porter Curse.

KIDSPEAK

I wasn't going to post a blog until later today but I HAD to post this before I set off on a bus ride to Band Camp with a bunch of Pre-Mids (5th and 6th graders). Woohoo!

I've been checking my email, stalking some blogs and posting snide comments to Tammi and Katie while Zac was in the bathtub playing-washing. Playing-washing? Moms know what I'm talking about, right?

Put some liquid soap in the bathtub and stick them in and while they play, they get washed.

It's some scientific phenomenon...really, it is.

I'm just about to close out for the morning and hop in the shower myself when Zac comes in, all wrapped in a towel, asking me to get his clothes out so he can get dressed; it's a new habit he's picked up lately that I'm thoroughly enjoying.

So, I'm wiping his nose and I casually say, did you get your hair wet?

I'm expecting a "yes" or "no".

This is what he said,

"I did a water fawt."

"What? You mean you were blowing water with your face and got your hair wet?"

"No, I fawted in the bathtub."

THAT was his answer. No real explanation for his wet hair.

I sat bewildered, trying to figure out what he meant while he walked over, turned on the TV, stuck his thumb in his mouth and got dressed like a good mesmerized TV-zombie child.

So much for Dora, Baby Einstein and Harry's Bucket of Dinosaurs teaching my child intelligent things--what's wrong with these TV shows?!? Don't they know that us mothers count on them to teach our children respectable manners?

I'd have his father have a talk with him about this sordid behavior but...

Sunday, March 18, 2007

POPPING BUBBLES ERROR

I started a summary of a blog about three days ago and ran out of time; therefore, I saved it as a draft.

Then I published a few quick blogs over the next few days.

Last night, I had time to come back, put my thoughts in order and finish the draft but when I clicked "Publish," it placed the blog two or three days back.

So, if you'd like to read a little more about Popping Bubbles, scroll down a couple of blogs; if not, that's cool.

I don't consider myself THAT important but I also don't write a log on the web to be ignored; I believe most bloggers, in general, thrive on feedback.

Please, read my lost blog!

Friday, March 16, 2007

UNEXPLAINED MYSTERY

We have this phenomenon occasionally at our home that I call Wet Dog Dishwasher.

Wet Dog is what our dishwasher sometimes smells like after it's run through a complete wash/rinse/sanitize/dry cycle. I open the dishwasher, poof, steam facial, wet dog smell.




UGH!


Drinking from a glass that smells like wet dog is not very appealing to me, let alone guests that may happen by.

It hasn't been confined to just our current home, it has happened in EVERY home we've ever lived that had a dishwasher.

And, it's an equal opportunity smell. Old dishwasher, new dishwasher, doesn't matter.

I've even tried different liquid scents thinking maybe one scent has a weird after-smell. Original dishwasher liquid, Berry dishwasher liquid, Citrus dishwasher liquid; yes, even powdered detergent.

Nothing takes the disgusting smell away except running the whole load through again! Who has time for that? Certainly, not I! I've actually resorted to throwing cut up lemons in the rinse cycle and/or white vinegar in hopes that the smell will be obliterated.

Still, wet dog. Run the dishes through another cycle.

It has, until today, driven me to the brink of insanity. Well, maybe not that far but it really, REALLY bothers me!
I have, at last, devised a plausible theory--follow along, please:

The horrid entity only makes the NON-POROUS dishes smell like wet dog; plastic never has the smell, even though plastic absorbs smells.

WHY DOESN'T THE PLASTIC SMELL?!? It drives me nuts because that's so nonsensical.

So....

I think the plastic dishware may bring about this smell; maybe some chemical reaction?

I'm testing my theory right now as I had a load of Wet Dog Dishes today.

I'm only running through nonporous dishes. Of course, if the smell disappears, it will not actually support my theory because the answer could be just rewashing the dishes.

Of course, neither will it disprove my theory :0)

I need to do a controlled study but have neither the time nor patience for such frivolities.

I just hope somebody out there reading this has experienced the same phenomenon.

Maybe I'm just CRI-ZA-ZY!

Sidebar: Mark, I was cleaning out the fridge today and buried in the bottom of the "snack" drawer was some cheese bars you all brought with you at Thanksgiving. Would you like me to save them for you? I could have Mom and Dad bring them back to K.C. after Spring Break.




POPPING BUBBLES, SUMMARY

After writing, reading and for a few days now, mulling over my "Popping Bubbles" series, I felt I needed to expound a bit on what I've learned, not only from popping my own bubbles, but also from taking a look back at my childhood and adolescence.

I believe we, as parents, need to be infinitely aware of what our children are being taught in Public and Private School and Church--to the point that we become obnoxious.

We need to actively listen everyday to what our children talk about; sitting in on or "parental eavesdropping" of conversations your children have with their friends and siblings, often reveal much information about goings-on in the classroom that children often don't think about telling their parents. *Remember, they assume that you know everything that's going on because you're the parent and you've checked out everything and everyone; this is especially true with private school students. They're often not skeptical about anything being "amiss".

We need to instruct children, at very young ages, on the Passionate love that Christ has for us moreso than the discipline we might receive at the hands of our heavenly father; the latter, I believe, should be taught when children are starting to enter adolescence and have good reasoning and logistical skills. Address boldly anyone manipulating with so-called Bible or devotional stories, even if it's unintentional. Obedience coerced by fear is not obedience at all, it's just surrender to the fear for the moment; obedient submission is an obedience born of love, honor and respect for the authority.

We need to be more realistic in teaching about our "Heroes of the Faith"; instead of just teaching EVERY year about Adam & Eve, Jonah, David, Joseph and Moses' heroism, we need to teach of their humanity, sins & redemptions, repeated failures and trials. Children are not too young to understand that nobody is perfect and if we only teach about these heroes as people who followed God's instructions, they miss the most important lesson that Christ teaches us through these people, as follows:

1) They were just like us, human & weak
2) They messed up OFTEN
3) Knowing Jesus doesn't make your life easier
4) Christian people are not perfect people
5) One person CAN change the world
6) When you mess up, there are consequences
7) They were ordinary people who put it all out there for God, saw God's awesome powers and
still wavered in their faith easily and often.

Imagine the hope and empowerment you could give a little girl that's being molested, if she learned in church that not only can God use you if you are like Esther but God can use if you happen to be like Rahab--yes, the prostitute. Is church the place to broach the subject of prostitution and molestation? I feel safe in stating that if THE BIBLE, GOD'S HOLY WORD can broach the subject of prostitution, churches can, as well.

How? Well, however most experts say to broach this subject with inquisitive minds--give only as much information as needed; no more, no less, don't go into specifics. Bring in counselors to talk to the children before lessons with sensitive subjects.

I know, I know, I know, it's radical territory but children live in dangerous times. The estimate is that one in three girls are molested at some point in their life. Human beings attend church, so church people fit right into that estimation, as well as, unchurched. What do you think it's like as a young, molested girl hearing the story of Adam and Eve, their nakedness, their shame? IF the teacher even broaches the subject of nakedness, the child would undoubtedly be very uncomfortable, and if the teacher is not educated in explaining the shame correctly, the little girl could think she is an unworthy, unuseable person for the rest of her life.

WE HAVE TO BE RELEVANT, PEOPLE! We have to address the world where they are hurting...even children...especially children.

How about a good, hot, full, nutritional breakfast? How about teeth cleaning/personal hygiene 101? How about making a PB&J 101? How about reading and writing help? Is this not relevant; is this not meeting the needs; is this not what Christ meant when he said, "Love your neighbor," and "Do unto the least of these"? "Oh, my, stop teaching and preaching!" Christ, himself, stopped his sermon when he saw the people were hungry; he fed their bellies, then their souls and there was more going on there than just the miracle of the five loaves and two fishes. Christ didn't stop teaching so they could watch him perform a miracle; he stopped because, bless their humanity, they were distracted EVEN from Christ's teaching because of physical hunger. You think Satan is not too low to use something as seemingly simple as hunger to distract from Christ? So, why didn't Christ just miraculously fill all their bellies? He was, I believe, teaching us Christians a lesson in meeting people's physical needs parallel with their spiritual needs.

How can we expect a child to listen if his belly is empty? How can we expect a child to read the Bible or follow along if he is illiterate? How can we expect a child to want to keep coming to church when he turns 18 and realizes that his soul is so hungry, but his teachers don't have a clue about his world or physical needs and, besides, he will never be good enough to fit in w/all the "shiny" people. Especially if he knows his soul is saved from hell, why would he waste anymore time in a place so unrealistic when he can go down to the local anything and find people realistic, interested in who he is, accept him, help him and love him.

Let's face the cold, hard fact, Church: If we have been doing our job as "neighbor lovers" and "lovers of the least" all these years, why are there so many government and secular social service organizations out there? Because needy people woke up one day and decided that they liked standing in lines and filling out paperwork and being scrutinized by the government to get help? Because they woke up and decided to become an atheist and never step foot in a church building? NO! We dropped the ball, we became too full of ourselves, we became intolerant of the "broken" cookies and we attached strings. We, the Church, drove them away.

People left the churches, had kids of their own. With no "rock foundation," mentoring or discipling, accountability, encouragment, help or positive role models, their families fell apart. Again, the intolerant church neglected them. Now, we have an American universal church whose numbers are steadily and quickly declining, not unlike those of European churches only twenty short years ago. The church has created this cycle, not the world. They came to us and we knew them not. Now, they know us not and they don't want to know us.

We need to wake up, stand up, repent, change, and assert ourselves as the followers Christ mentored us to be, not the Pharisees and legalists he'd throw out of the Temple.

It's going to take a total overhaul of church curriculum: counselors, educators, ministers, parents all need to work together to write a curriculum that is realtime relevant, addresses learning disabilities, addresses different learning styles and is, of course, based on solid Biblical teaching that leaves gray areas for parents, guardians, Theological scholars and Seminaries.

The church, in particular, needs to realize that we are not sheltering kids from the world on Sunday morning--that's just ridiculous. We're just a once-a-week safe haven, a resting place, a constant. They live in the world all week; they see and hear things that would apall most adults and if you think you know what I'm talking about, you probably don't even know the half of it. Most fifth graders today know more about sex than we knew about the subject when we were twenty. We need to be relevant with the kids. We need to speak in blunt, straightforward and unfiltered language and we most certainly don't need hypocrites teaching in churches; kids can see "posers," hypocrites and bigots coming a mile away and will drive churched and unchurched away faster than sign-ups for Choir.

After we have addressed their physical needs, while teaching about their spiritual needs, we need to engage their minds. This would come about in the Middle School years-the logic stage-when kids love to challenge and debate. Yes, this is why Mid's are such smartmouths at this age. Instead of making them sit down and listen to more stories of Jonah and the Whale and case studies involving cheesy stories about somebody giving into peer pressure, we need to let them voice their questions, concerns and beliefs.

We have the opportunity to teach these kids the "why" behind the beliefs so they can defend themselves. Real debates and group discussions are great for mid's who cannot sit still to save their lives. Remember, these are boys and girls who, most likely, spend most of their free time in front of T.V. and video games. Their lives are filled w/many non-stop activities during the week and, suddenly, on Sunday we expect them to sit completely still for an hour and listen to someone drone on about peer pressure and unrealistic idealology that abstinence 'til your wedding night makes for the best sex that is all and end's all (that's another WHOLE blog). Give these kids the tools they need to go and they WILL go and they WILL amaze. They have unlimited energy stores, let them use it; they are tech-savvy, sit back and watch. They're not the same as past generations and I don't believe that past generations of Americans worked and fought so hard for so long, so that the future children could do things exactly like it was done in the past. We're a progressive society and we have to embrace all that comes with that--even in regard to church and worship.

*Just one sidenote: It's a popular occurrence nowdays to see churches without denominational signatures. Some old, established churches have even started pulling the denomination from their name; many older-generation do not like this. What this is, is the new generation coming of age that has been taught, since birth, tolerance and avoidance of prejudices. Face it, denominations can be, and have been, a prejudicial issue; it often alienates. Catholics don't work w/Baptists, Baptists w/Assemblies of God, "Oh my, they might clap their hands too loudly," etc. The denominations are being obliterated for tolerance sake. We're becoming more of a community of believers this way and, in most cases, this is a good thing.*

Some of these ideas are being used now in churches and private Parochial, Community and Christian schools throughout the United States. The results are phenomenal; however, most churches lag behind because they are so steeped in tradition, they don't like change and it seems such a daunting task.

The younger generations are pushing for changes. We're pushy and very insistent. We want church--relevant, modern, hypocrite-free, socially adjusted. We don't take "NO" for an answer.

The church needs to remember that it's not about buildings, committees, coffee and donuts or even the RECORDS of converts & baptisms; it's about them--the neighbors, His children.

He thought they were worth dying for, what does The Church think they're worth?

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

WHERE DOES ALL OUR MONEY GO!?!

We were planning on taking a little money from our income tax refund windfall to maybe take a cruise during our Fall Break next October.

Gerald decides to go over the books one more time to make sure that our finances are in order and, lo and behold, the little xtra we were going to have left over had disappeared, POOF!

He calls me, "Where did it all go?"

"I don't know; maybe eye doctor visits for all the kids?"

"Maybe all the field trips we didn't expect this year."

"Possibly all the shoes and sport's fees we put out this year."

"Did we buy that many shoes?"

"Uh...."
"Yah, I think so!"


These are all the kids' sport's shoes that we have bought this year...so far.


We still have two pair of track shoes to buy this week for Anna & Jake, our Sports-A-Holics.


Now, we buy them as cheap as we can get away with, without sacrificing too much quality because we don't want our kids' feet to curl up and fall off.
Figure around $25-30/pair times twelve pairs (Molly's soccer shoes are missing) and we spent a rough estimate of.....calculating.....
$300-360! Oh, my goodness, I didn't even think it would be that much.
WOW!

Our Athletes
Zac, "Porter Supporter"


Drew, "The Three Point Threat"

Molly, "Number 25"
Jake, "Basketball Ballerina"
Anna, "The Blur"

DEDICATED TO MOMS EVERYWHERE

Tammi sent me this yesterday and , oddly enough, this is what my car looks like right now, having driven to ATL and back on Sunday.

I absolutely LOVE this video--thanks, Tam!

The Setup:

There is a popular show on MTV, I think, called "Pimp My Ride" where they take someone's car and put lighting effects and a "bumpin" sound system, etc.

This is the "MoM" equivalent:

http://www.youtube.com/watch_fullscreen?video_id=HEFE3B0Rje0&l=211&t=OEgsToPDskIuXSP8v7ROu9o0K8Eq5M8M&fs=1&title=Zima - "Mom My Ride"

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

POPPING BUBBLES, THE FINALE'

To answer Tammi's question/comment and the questions it brought to my mind, I referred back to my husband who quotes this stat to all kinds of people--students, administration, deacons, school committee, friends and neighbors, and of course, me.

This is what I found out:

The statistic comes from the Barna Research Group, which is very reputable and conducts many studies of religion, religious trends, religious groups, etc; and from what I understand, this Stat has been "on the books" for quite a long time and has been/is common knowledge to all sorts of people and groups, believers being the last to catch on--imagine that.

This stat refers to people's CORE beliefs...creation/evolution, literal heaven/hell, Jesus is just a good man/sinless Savior, etc. It doesn't refer to the areas of one's life that could be considered "gray areas" which, I agree, can change infintely throughout our lives, especially when leaving the nest.

Of course, this stat cannot be absolutely applied to all; however, it does account for the mass majority of humans.

I won't go into how the secular world uses this knowledge; most can probably figure that out just by stopping and thinking about it but, what I said about believers just now "getting it" is very important because we are way, WAY behind "the seculars" in figuring out how to take this information and use it. I myself, think it involves changing all children's Sunday School curriculum and the way we approach discipling the young. That's another whole series of blogs; I obviously need to finish this one. So, here goes:

Quick review:

Shy, oldest child, venomous snake, hence: disobedience=death.

I'm first grade and I believe in my head that to disobey most probably could bring death and this scares me into submissive obedience, not that I needed this, I was a VERY compliant child--remember that confrontation/humiliation thing? The obedience was brought about by
manipulation from someone that all kids trust, a teacher.


FAST FORWARD ABOUT ELEVEN YEARS.....

Now I'm a senior in high school, traveling with my class on our Senior Trip to a little backwoods camp somewhere in North Carolina, I believe. (The name of the camp is Bill Rice Ranch so you know to NEVER send your kids there) Our bus is traveling along and we turn on this narrow road that supposedly leads to the camp, only to find a few miles up that there is a huge tree blocking the road. Now we were stuck and the only thing we could do was to BACK DOWN this narrow road, ON A CHARTER BUS, driven by a TEACHER who may or may not have had a CDL. How narrow was this road? We took up the whole road. Out the left side of the bus, we could have literally reached out the windows and touched the mountain and on the right side of the bus, a steep, pine-tree covered fall down the side of the mountain; absolutely no room for error. Did I mention we had a trailer on the back of the bus? So, all the girls hear this: "All the boys off the bus to unhitch and move the trailer and help guide the bus driver; all the girls sit down and be quiet." Now, remember, I'm still a pretty compliant kid at this point, but I'm not stupid, and I have ALOT of common sense. I don't know who started the parade, maybe me, but all the girls stood up and paraded themselves OFF the bus--better disobedient than...dead. Ironic, huh?

Interesting, how did it end? Well, I'm blogging.

FAST FORWARD AGAIN ABOUT TWELVE YEARS, give or take (I'm around 30 now), and I'm sitting at a birthday party. Some family and friends are talking about our H.S. Alma Mater. My sister or brother, cannot remember which, mentions the time the bus got stuck on the side of a mountain during their Senior Trip to Bill Rice Ranch. If you're mind is a steel trap, like mine, you're thinking exactly what I said...WHAT?!? WAIT A DARN MINUTE HERE! DID YOU SAY THAT THREE YEARS AFTER MY SENIOR TRIP, THE SAME THING HAPPENED ON YOUR SENIOR TRIP?!? Come to find out, the narrow road/tree/girls stay on the bus was NO accident, it was planned. Who planned it? I'm not sure but do you see the pattern of manipulation through fear by teachers? It was a setup to get us all thinking about life and death and start questioning where we were in our "walk w/the Lord". We were getting ready to have a "Come To Jesus Meeting" all week long; a final stunt to get us all saved and repent from our rebellious ways and become ministers and wives of ministers in their delusional, legalistic army. Obviously, this was not the first attempt but it was the most sinister.

I know, many assumptions and quick conclusions, but believe me, after spending twelve years in this school and seeing all we did, it instantly made sense to all of us sitting there, without question. I dare say, that many that have been manipulated and burned by legalistic organizations such as this, easily come to the same conclusion. Yes, these are believers that not only make Christians look bad but they are the exact same ones to whom I referred in Popping Bubbles One, when I remarked about "people burned not by hellfire but by hell's favorite converts".

I grew up in a legalistic organization of "Fear Christians" that manipulated children apart from their parents, fed us lies about what the Bible meant, showed us no love, mercy or grace whatsoever and yet expected us to have a relationship with Christ. Tell me why, oh why, would I want to have a relationship with a God that was up there just waiting to strike me down the minute I disobeyed? See the problem with the first grade story now? See how it affected my whole life? Having a relationship w/a God like that is no different than having a relationship with the Grim Reaper himself, as he also is waiting for us to mess up so he can strike us down with that huge scicle and drag us to the depths of hell.

Sure, as I got older I didn't believe the bullcrap they threw our way, and I was driven FROM a relationship with Christ, not to him. I became that Christian that knew the answers they wanted to hear, and they spewed forth from my mouth on a constant basis. I went into survival mode--"just make it to graduation." They became a part of my personality, and whenever I was around "churchy" people, I became a totally smiling, plastic, under the white steeple, hide behind the stained glass, don't have a problem in the world 'cause I'm a good Christian, Barbie. Know any of those? I left the church as soon as I graduated and it would be years before I'd step back in.

I have to add this, as well. My church was not legalistic, just the school I attended, BUT, the leaders of my church were apathetic to the plight of the youth. The 80's, and even well into the 90's, maybe even as far back as the 60's and 70's, the church in America catered to adults while the children and youth were pushed into the background. Even today, most churches still have the majority of their budgets dedicated to the adult ministries of the church. Common sense--if you don't invest in the future members, who will be there to lead? Barna stats tell us that 88% of children leave the church after high school and NEVER set foot in church again. I reiterate, who will be there to lead? This, as well, is another blog for another day.

I'm married now and after our first child was born, we decided that we wanted to get back into a good church for HER. That's not a good reason, I realize now; nonetheless, that is what we did. It took us a good four years to find a church--they preached the truth boldly, the worship was not antiquated and the church was growing and they were invested in the community. The church was phenomenal. We became heavily involved in several ministries but I still was not having a relationship with Christ. I was still playing plastic, church Barbie because I had never been taught how to have a true relationship with Christ--by being who you are and living within his mercies. I was still just going to church because that's what Christians do. We knew enough to know where to go to church, what we wanted, what we believed but I didn't know how to be a sinner and reconcile that with his grace. I was still trying to be perfectly good. Worse yet, I wasn't happy with my life; I felt empty.

So, a few years ago, we were called to a school in Florida. The headmaster at the school had four children that were stair-stepped among ours and he and his wife were around our age. Being in the same career field as my husband, we all hit it off instantly. We shared the same struggles, disappointments and heartbreaks. I started noticing immediately that there was something different about them--they were not judgmental of ANYBODY, they just really loved on people. Not only that, but they were real; on Sunday, they didn't play church, they were the same on Sunday as they were every other day of the week and they were not "churchy". They told off-color jokes, cursed occasionally, wore shorts to church, their car and home were a kid-wreck just like ours and they had this love of life. Amy immediately began to "push" me out of my painfully shy comfort zone and we became quick friends. I was able to be who I really was around her, not a shined up, Sunday version of myself, and I started to realize after all these years that to be a Christian doesn't mean that you have to be perfect. To be a Christian doesn't mean that you will never sin. To be a Christian doesn't mean that you cannot tell people that your favorite music is Rock-N-Roll, not Steve Chapman or Sandy Pattie. You don't have to know all the books of the Bible in order and know the exact date and time of your conversion. You can wear a two piece swimsuit and curse when you shut your finger in the door. Your kids don't have to look like Stepford Children and being in an argument w/your spouse is expected. I could tell her that the Lord had told me something that day, and she didn't look at me weird--she would usually tell me what he'd said to her. I could be who I really was, she knew everything about me and it opened my eyes to a whole new world.

They didn't know it, still may not, but they showed my husband and I that being a Christian means having true, open relationships with people, treating Christ as the real God he is which means it's not weird to talk to him or worship him all-out or put your monthly budget in his hands, disagreeing and discussing but not judging or holding grudges. Mostly, they taught us that if you see a need, you fill it, no matter the cost to yourself--the true epitome of a Christian, in my humble opinion.

The best part is that the Lord brought another couple to the same school and we all have this same relationship still to this day, even having moved hundreds of miles apart. Tammi is one half of them, and you can see the dialogue we have and that we don't always agree but it doesn't threaten my, nor her, Christiaity. That doesn't make us any more or less of a Christian, it just makes us stronger. Imagine, knowing what you believe enough to participate in real discussions about modern-day issues that affect the world, not just spewing out answers like, "because the Bible says so". We've both risen above being Christian-zombies like those legalist schools tried to turn us into so many years ago so that now we can be true friends--I know "real Tammi" and she knows "real Amy".

Finally, what does the words "Popping Bubbles" have to do with all of this?

A few weeks ago, I was reading an article on the Dirty Dish website and the author was talking about how we, as Christians, often walk around with bubbles around us. We think, as Christians, we have to be perfect people; we think, as denominations, that we have it all right and we walk around trying so hard not to pop the bubbles that we have surrounding us, that we become something we are not. We become very unapproachable and unrelational. Furthermore, we become afraid to let people see us when the bubbles do get popped, and, they do get popped. So, instead of becoming a "Brotherhood of Believers," we become a bunch of little isolationist Christian Islands with no connections to each other--person to person and denomination to denomination--or the world.

In order for us to be effective in bringing the world into the church, we have to start popping those bubbles that surround many of us. If we cannot be real and tolerant with ourselves and other believers, how can we be real, tolerant and relevant to the world? Or maybe we're more real with the world than believers, but then that makes us hypocrites and the church definitely doesn't need any more of those.

It's not easy for me; there are some days that I blow another bubble around myself. I still have some bubbles to pop, being in this new place with new "church" people. I still have prejudicial bubbles of other denominations that subconsciously exist from my upbringing. I'm still shy somewhat and do not like confrontation, but I have to be real for my own sanity and survival, even if it means that I tell people what I really think about cheesy "churchy" events...like "Friend Day".

But that's definitely another blog for another day.

Monday, March 12, 2007

THE PHOENIX

This picture, devoid of words, so aptly describes how small are we.



It's the sun. See us in the background? Didn't even notice, did you?

Me either.

It's called a prominence. For full effect, click to enlarge.

Wanna' see it in GIF animation? Click here: http://spaceweather.com/swpod2007/11mar07/palmer2.gif

I think it looks like The Phoenix (the mythical Greek bird-god of fire that rose from the ashes).

Explanation? Check it out: http://spaceweather.com/

THERE IS NOTHIN' IN THE WORLD LIKE

Driving with the windows down the first days of spring after a long, cold winter; hair wipping wildly, the wind calmly deafening in your ears like the breaking of a red flag surf on the sand. The sun, filtered through the windshield, warms you up from head to toe like a toasty little biscuit in the oven. It's the adult version of swinging on a long rope swing in the spring, under a big, cool oak tree...head back, eyes closed, shoeless, the sun playing peekaboo with your closed eyelids, the organic smell of leaves, dirt, rope and the slightly musty, wood seat.

My late granddad, Papa, used to take a drive with grandma "Mom" every fairweather weekend; now I know why. I hope we're right about having wings in heaven and if we are, Papa is up there taking the Angels "driving" everyday.

So, we drove Nathan back to Atlanta today to trade him back for Molly (I think it was a good trade); it was freedom from the stress of this weekend and took us back to when we were in high school and took trips together to Texas, where some of Gerald's family lived and when we drove back and forth together from college in Florida. Release from worries from one point to the next.

Journey's Greatest Hits was our favorite CASSETTE back then and, of course, the CD version was blared today, as well as, Kutless, Sheryl Crowe and Sarah Kelly, some of our favorites. Music is always enjoyable but blaring while doing 80--slow for ATL--is one of the most enjoyable...at least for my fast-paced, noisy, media-saturated generation. I'm sure Papa would disagree on this point.

Oh yeah, the kids?

In the backseat, tummies full of Joe's Crabshack, huge, black headphones on their small, pasty heads, laughing eyeballs watching "Napoleon Dynamite." They're even more fast-paced, noisy and media-saturated than we; wonder what their preferred mode of transport will be in twenty years?

It was about a three hour trip and the sunset was beautiful with the mountains in the background and lakes dotted here and there where rainclouds often turn the mountains into rainspouts. We held hands for awhile; I guess the warm sun and the stressfree atmosphere makes you feel amorous. I remember my Mom and Dad used to always hold hands when we took vacations in the car.

Our kids snickered, gave each other that "Mommy and Daddy sitting in the tree..." look and soon fell fast asleep. The End.

Seems that spring brings back many good memories; another one of God's gifts, choreographed through Mother Nature just for us ordinary humans. He must really like us.

Saturday, March 10, 2007

SURVIVOR HUNTSVILLE

It's NOON.

The last of the fifth grade zombies just left.

AH!

I got some kicks last night ambushing the gun-totin', be-goggled fifth grade nothings with a stockpile of water balloons...and it felt GREAT!

Until they started shooting me w/those little bebees. I have red welts all over.

And who brought the automatic?!?

I should have put hot sauce on their eggs this morning, little suckers.

The best part of the evening was about 10p when Gerald showed up w/Nathan, Jake's best friend. He left yesterday afternoon for Atlanta, traded Molly for Nathan and surprised the heck outta Jake last night.

It was a great reunion--hugging, tears. Who would've thought from fifth grade boys?

So, I'm left w/bright green icing on the carpet, several Mountain Dew spills, something green and gross stuck to the couch, two pair of goggles, one flashlight, a pair of size 12R jeans and a best friend.

All in all, we did survive.

I'm gonna' go sit on the backporch swing, listen to the chirping birds, drink some sweet tea and contemplate how best to clean up all the minute neon bebees all over the place.

P.S. REMEMBER TO SET YOUR CLOCKS FORWARD TONIGHT!!!

Friday, March 9, 2007

WAITING FOR THE DOORBELL TO RING

They just shot the neighbor's window.

I'm waiting for a knock on the door.

At least they came in and told me.

At least it's just a little, harmless pebble.

Harmless. Ha.

WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?


Eight be-goggled, totally camoed fifth grade boys, seven AirSoft Rifles/Pistols, one VERY loud and annoying whistle. That lasted one hour; then they came inside. AHHH!

Seven large pizzas and four two liters of Mountain Dew later, we delve into the lavishly frosted Cookie Cake. Then, there are Oreos--handfuls--Warheads, sour strings and sour jelly beans; I'm sure this will lead to at least one sour stomach tonight.
There is boy stuff EVERYWHERE--stinky shoes, half eaten food, things you don't want to know.
It smells like wet dog. Don't know why I "refreshed" the carpet today. DUH.

Somebody brought a Wii game system; turns out, it's not so Wee! Lot of money for such little thrills.
Played a Crossword Puzzle for a prize--Whoopi Cushion, of course. It was quiet for five minutes until they all forfeited. I'm such a NERD!
"Lord of the Rings" will quiet them down, right? Please, Lord.....

Back outside after dark to play Flashlight Tag. Yay, some peace and quiet for me--poor neighbors; dogs are barking everywhere.

I hear rumbling of tummies and something about Shaving Cream and snoring. No sleep for the weary tonight.
Oh my gosh, WHAT IS THAT SMELL?!? I think I'm gonna' faint.

Boys are so much more up-and-down energy than girls; girls just won't shut up.

11AM cannot come too soon.

I just heard, "This is an awesome party. Thanks, Mrs. Porter."

Awesome Mom! Awesome Mom!
Note to self: plan a practical joke on the dad who gave them all a Vault to drink on the bus ride back from field trip today.
No School. Field trip. Vault. Cake. Oreos. Candy. Mountain Dew. Long night ahead.
Somebody, please help me.

Tuesday, March 6, 2007

LA FEMME LIT


Translated from the French, meaning "The woman reads."

If you are a woman and you are reading this, repeat, "la femme lit".

Anna is learning some French during her Activity Period at school.
I don't know when she started this elective because it is March and this is the first test I've seen for the class.

I knew she talked about learning some French in the class, but I thought they just dabbled in a few phrases.
Obviously, a faux pas.

Wonder what the phrase is for, "The mother is clueless"?

POPPING BUBBLES, PART II

Comment from Popping Bubbles, Part I:

tammi said...
Hmmmmm....I'll be interested to see where you're going with this.I remember hearing both of those stories when I was growing up - in Sunday school or at my Christian school, but I can't remember which one I heard first. Although the story that I heard about the little boy stopping on command had something to do with him almost being run over by a train, or something about being bitten by a crocodile - I'm not sure which - I can't really remember.I'm going to guess that you heard the drunk-driver story as a 3rd grader, considering that it's a little more simplistic in theme than than the story about the kid obeying his mother's command to stop. Actually, it's not really...so I don't really know.But that's my guess and I'm sticking to it.


Funny, this was the exact response I thought that I may receive--many people growing up in Christian homes/schools that had heard the same story, tweaked just a tad. The "tweaked" facts in this/these stories are of no relevance because it's the moral that is important to the narrator(s).

This is the moral of the "Bible-story lesson," as I remember it being communicated from the narrator(s):

Teacher: If the little boy had not obeyed his mother, what would have happened?

Children: The boy would have died.

Teacher: Yes! Most likely. That is why you should always obey, right when you are told.


Children (in head): If I don't obey, I could die.

Statistic: "A child's belief system (and worldview) is set by the age of only 13; after age 13, it is rare to change what one believes".

As I said, I was in first grade when told the story of the little boy and the venomous snake by my white-haired, small-framed, 60-something teacher. I was new to the school, having attended my neighborhood public school the year previous, of which I don't remember much but kissing a boy I liked on the cheek, playing in "centers," the happy, chatty, bouncing children with whom I rode the bus and my nice teacher hugging me occasionally (even though I cannot remember her face).

I also don't remember much about my first grade year--recess, my best friend and the thing that made me panic inside-messing up, i.e. : not sitting up straight enough in my chair, not folding my hands on my desk, not standing in a PERFECTLY straight line, being silent at lunch, not having my homework pad signed, forgetting my books and/or homework. Why would these childish behaviors make me panicky? Because if I didn't do these things, exactly perfect, day in and day out, I would be scolded in front of the whole class and to me, that was the worst thing that could happen.

I was painfully shy and I was an oldest child.

Being an oldest child, I was automatically predisposed to try to live up to everyone's expectations and make everyone happy and I didn't like confrontation. Being shy made my childhood even more difficult because if I was called out in class, it totally humiliated AND embarrassed me. I avoided confrontation and attention, at all costs. I realize now, it cost me alot.

So, in my little first grade, seven-year old head, I subconsciously decided that I HAD to be perfect. I obeyed. I did not question with my mouth, nor did my mind even think about questioning what I was told. I listened as intently as a child does, I took it all in as a child's mind does, and I believed it all, as a child does.

Tomorrow, I'll tell you how this affected my whole life.

Sunday, March 4, 2007

POPPING BUBBLES, PART I

Please be in prayer for a family, Billy & Donna are the parents. Billy was flown home from serving in Iraq this weekend as his son was one of the eight children killed by the tornado that struck the high school in Enterprise, Alabama. The son's name was Mikey. He has two older sibilings. That's all I know about the family; our S.S. class has a YahooGroup that sends out prayer requests, etc. and this was sent out by a member of our class, who are best friends with the family--alot of the families were military and many are getting ready to move to Huntsville per BRAC. Be in prayer for them and all those affected by Mother Nature--many, many people in many states lately.

So, I started writing this blog in my head several weeks ago. As you may have noticed, I blogged the title but nothing else b/c I knew it wasn't going to be a one-blog, blog.

The "popping bubbles"analogy will be, at its simplest, a testimony of the last few years of my life's journey; it was a whirlwind and set all my preconceived notions of what being a Christian meant, spinning. I had been frustrated, depressed and discontented with life but I did not know why; however, the Lord did. He, therefore, devised a plan and plotted a journey, on my sole behalf I believe, to take our family to places and people that opened my eyes to many the "Christian" lie.

I believe that there are many out there like I...possibly a whole generation. They need answers to questions, but they don't know the question; they need solutions to problems, but they don't know the problem, they just know somethin's not right. I call them, "Fear Christians," and most have been burned...not by hell's fire but by hell's favorite converts.

Interested, yet?

Stick with me--I'll try to post everyday and keep the interest level high. I would love comments.

Today, I'll start with an elementary-level story:

There once was a little boy that was outside playing and his mother was watching over him from the back door. He thoroughly enjoyed the thrill of sliding down and then climbing up his newly purchased sliding board.

Suddenly, his mother stepped closer to the door and focused her eyes toward the bottom of the slide where Junior was about to collide with a venomous snake. With no time to lose, Mother quickly pulled open the door and shouted, "Junior, stop, don't move!"

Junior stopped, he didn't move...he obeyed his mother, without question.

He was spared certain death at the fangs of a deadly snake.

The end.

Here's the Middle High/Senior High version:

There once was a girl and she was good; she never went to parties, didn't drink or smoke, was a good student and did what her parents told her.

One night, she had a moment of weakness and decided to disobey her parent's wishes. While sleeping over at a friend's house, she attended a party and there, of course, was drinking.

She immediately became uncomfortable and decided that it was time to leave. She got into a car with her friends to start towards home. The driver had been drinking.

A few miles from home, they crossed the median and struck another car, head-on.

The teenagers were all flown to the hospital in grave condition and when the good girl reached the hospital and was lying on her deathbed, she asked the nurse to tell her parents that she was sorry. The nurse just leaned down and kissed her cheek and then the girl died.

Another nurse, witnessing this scene, asked, "Why didn't you tell the girl you would give her parents the message so that she could die in peace?"

"Because, her parents are dead; the car they hit was carrying her parents--they were out looking for their daughter."

The end.

These are two different stories. One I read recently on a website and the other I was told when I was in school. Which one, you ask?

I was first grade.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

Tomorrow, I'll tell you how this affected my whole life.

Thursday, March 1, 2007

WHEN THE HUBBY'S AWAY....

I DON'T SLEEP.

If you've been reading my blogs for awhile, you know I don't sleep well anyway, and not for nearly as long as the human body needs to stay healthy and function at the top of the game.

But, it's even worse when "He" is not here, thank goodness he's not gone long...or often.

I could be watching TV but why when there's GoogleVideo?

I thought now would be a good time to give you "lurkers" (people that read but don't comment) and "what-iffers" (people that WANT to click on my blog links to see where it takes them, but are just afraid of "what if") a quick Bloggin' 101...for dummies--sorry, I couldn't resist :0)

First, just about everything that is posted on any of my (or other's) blogs will take you somewhere else, if you'll just "click."

By anything posted, I mean anything on any post on my blog. For instance:
1) go to the right-hand side and scroll down a little to: Be Bored No More...
2) look at which "link" looks interesting to you, and click it
3) this will take you into the blog or website for that link
4) to get back to my blog, just click "back" like you normally would on any website

Now, just like my blog, anything you click on anyone else's blog, will take you further.

Some blogs are full of links to commercial websites and then some are what I call "normal" and look alot like mine--just people out there blogging for their sanity and the community with other bloggers.

There is an infinite number of blogs out there and you could literally spend eight hours a day on your computer and still be "swimming" out there. It's interesting to see what's out there; I recently happened onto a blogging community of believing women and many of them own their own businesses and work from home--I have them on my blog.

Be warned, that not all the links on my blog are G-rated and some promote beliefs a little out there for me, but I like to see what's happening, nonetheless. I daily catch an emergent church blog even though I'm not sure where I stand on it yet, just getting information...the people are definitely real, not your standard plastic, smiling church Ken and Barbie-types standing under the big, white steeple. I like real "church" people.

That's another blog for another time.

Remember that nobody can get your personal info unless you give it to them and they cannot track back to your email address or anything like that.

Try my blog out first, if you haven't already, until you get comfortable enough to go lurking elsewhere. Click on anything and everything and see where you go--remember, just click "back" to get back to the main blog. You can see my profile, past blogs and the comments made about them. Soon, I hope to have more "stuff" on my blog (like my Ebay auctions) but I'm still a dummy, as well.

So go have fun, be a bloggin' voyeur; just be warned, you may very well get addicted.