You can't take it with you

Last night I picked up a copy of FD Luxe, a free fashion magazine. They often have interesting articles and sometimes a friend has photography featured, so I always grab a copy when I run across one. The story catching my eye this time was about the renowned opera singer, Lily Pons.

It's made up of bits and pieces from news stories written across the years about Pons. She apparently knew everyone in the entertainment world and beyond. Her Dallas home was filled with great works of art and cultured friends.

This is the bit that jumped out at me:

SEPTEMBER 1985“In her day, Pons had been a major international celebrity. She ate barbecue with Dwight Eisenhower in the White House. She was presented the French Legion of Honor by Charles de Gaulle. When she died, mementos of her glamorous life were disposed of in a giant estate sale that was open to the public. A picture of her partying with actor Humphrey Bogart went for 50 cents. Chatty letters from Princess Grace and Prince Rainier went for $5, as did a personal note from Princess Elizabeth thanking Pons for a wedding present.” — The Dallas Morning News

I don't know if she died surround by loved ones and friends. But, it does look as if no one claimed her stuff. Was her stuff important to her? She held onto it until the end. Maybe she had it tucked away and never thought about it. She did keep it though. It was, in some sort of fashion, still in her possession.

And, she didn't take it with her.

No matter how much you have of anything (insert what you wish here), when you die, it doesn't go with you.

And, collecting and keeping doesn't hold you here.

You still go.

I've been thinking a lot lately about not wanting to burden my children with stuff they have to get rid of when I die. I want to pare down what I have to be only things I absolutely love and/or use. If I can combine them be things I love and use, then great!

Lily Pons might have done all that before she died and the stuff in the little blurb might have been all that was left. If so, bully for her.

Or, whatever the French equivalent is for "bully for her."

10 things about ME, ME, ME that everyone needs to know

1. I can't sing. I can sing, just not well. If you ever see me when music is being played and others are singing and I'm moving my lips...that's all I'm doing. Very seldom does any sound come out.

2. I can't do math. Started struggling in 4th grade and never recovered. I could do Algebra for about 5 minutes in high school, but that's it. My brain pretty much completely freezes up with anything number related.

3. I have trouble remembering how old I am. Probably has something to do with the numbers problem and age. The older I get the harder time I have keeping the numbers straight. It's been going on for awhile. I don't mind people knowing how old I am. I just can't remember!

4. I really, really, really hate cherries. Really. So much so that I once spit out cherry ice cream in front of my grandmother. You don't waste food around my grandmother. She had given me a big bowl full thinking it was strawberry.

5. I'm not fond of apples either.

6. I tend to be a tad bit sarcastic. It drives my youngest daughter and other non-sarcastic people crazy.

7. I would love to own a fair-trade shop, but I have no business sense. Probably goes back to that numbers thing.

8. I have a tendency to talk too much or not at all. No happy medium. It makes me socially awkward.

9. I annoy my children like all get out. They'll be the first to tell you.

10. I am useless with other languages. I've had people laugh out loud at my attempts at Chinese. Watched heads shake at my Spanish attempts and my French son just pats me on the head and says "you're so cute" when I butcher a French word. I speak East Texas fairly well, but I mutilate anything proper.

Ride Out The Waves

I wrote the following while going through a rough patch a few months ago. At the time I wasn't sure I would be able to ride out the waves.

Death is final

Death is final and when I say that I mean the life here on earth is forever gone. It's permanent. As in forever more.

The only thing that keeps me from going insane is knowing that Grandmother is a beautiful soul in an earthly shell and the second the shell shuts down she will be with her Father. The one that she has loved and faithfully followed always. It will be beyond glorious, nothing our small minds can even begin to imagine. And she will be perfect and perfectly content.

Tonight, or I guess I should say this morning my tears have finally started flowing in a way that doesn't hint of a let up anytime soon. I've cried on and off since Friday morning, but quickly fended them off.

Not now.

Now I'm in pain thinking of the things that will never be again.
The really bland cookies she makes. Not sure what she does to them, but we eat them all up anyway.
Always being able to count on the ingredients for a Dr. Pepper Float to be on hand.
The best scrambled eggs in the world.
Hugs at the front door.
Her ability to talk for 30 minutes without having to stop to take a breath.
"Sit down here and talk to me" as she pats the couch cushion. And then not being able to get a word in edgewise.
Her way of pronouncing alcohol "alkeyhall" and tacos "tacas".
Her clothes hanging on the line.
Knowing that she starts her days praying for every single one of us.

In those ways death is very final. The day to day things. The things with skin on them. Those will be gone. Forever. And I don't like it one bit. That's where I am right now. Trying to come to grip with this final part. I hate it.

Jury Duty

Sitting at Jury Duty waiting to hear if I will be needed today. We've been here since 8:30 and now it is 9:50. One group has been called.

I'm trying to figure out how to lie down on these folding chairs and not look totally crazy.

Watching people try to get out of duty wasn't as much fun this time. There weren't many that tried and there was no drama. Darn. I miss the judge that asked a group of people to line up vertically. Vertically? Really? Can I please be on top? Wait, I'm scared of heights. Never mind. I would prefer to be crushed on the bottom.

According to CNN NikeTown in NYC has been closed down due to a bed bug infestation. The lady sitting next to me and I both started grimacing and scratching.

We got to watch the fun little video about how happy and proud we should be to have jury duty. It's very well done, but it didn't sway me. The fact is that I do not want the pressure of deciding if someone is guilty or not. I don't like conflict. I don't like making major decisions. I'm not crazy about making minor decisions. Sometimes it takes me 15 minutes to decide which black t-shirt I'm going to wear with my jeans.

Oh...that lady is dressed WAY to young for her age!

Do I believe in the jury system? Oh yes. I just don't want to be a part of it.

So, anyway, 74 people got called for actual duty. One of the courts that asked for jurors changed their mind. A cheer went up from those left over. I didn't cheer. I remembered the fun little video that told me I should be happy and proud to serve and pretended that it did sway me.

Bizarre Day at Coventry

Yesterday was just bizarre at Coventry, or at least, the morning was. It was still good, and I was greatly blessed, but it was bizarre. I kept wondering if it was a full moon.

It was announced that it was Melissa's last day and we would have cake after lunch to celebrate. Melissa is excited about her new adventure, so we were celebrating. But, Melissa has been such a wonderful light in my life that the tears were flowing first thing. So glad I didn't wear makeup.

Then, during the first session I looked up from my spot in glazing to see Sneaky Pete go stiff in his chair at the clay table. Thankfully he went down slowly and three people were there immediately to keep him from hurting himself. That made me cry and pray. It stressed me to see him like that and it stressed me to see the other Stars alarmed. Nick wanted someone to pray and I suggested he pray to himself (like in his head). He said he didn't know how to do that, so I said there was nothing wrong with praying out loud, so he did. It isn't something he does easily and it was beautiful. He also got to turn the ceiling fans on to help cool down SP, which thrilled him to no end. He LOVES ceiling fans. Sneaky Pete rested for a bit and was covered in prayers. Before long he was going strong again.

Then, we had a senior citizen group of about 19 come to visit. They watched a short video, broke into smaller groups and took tours. We often have people visiting, just not so many at a time. Before they left all the septic lines decided to clog! The icemaker drain backed up and started flooding the kitchen at lunch time. And not just a little water. The toilets couldn't be flushed. Someone announced it was time to practice bladder control. But our male visitors were thrilled to have a problem to try to solve. They seemed pleased at punch while trying to help. We told them we didn't usually put our visitors to work when they came. They just grinned.

At circle time, Melissa was our focus. The Stars took turns telling her what she meant to them. It was beautiful. They wanted to hug her and pray for her. Lots of tears were shed. Once again, I was glad I didn't have makeup on. It helps to know that Melissa is making a move she feels God is leading her to make and she is very calm and excited. I must say I would be excited about moving to a beach town myself. Melissa is a wonderful teacher. She is patient and moves with determined purpose. I love that about her. And, man, am I going to miss her.

The Roto-Rooter guy came. He was new and had never worked on a septic system before. Someone talked him through it and a cheer went up at the announcement that toilets could once again be flushed.

So, we made it through the different day. Laughter and love prevailed.

Oh God, I feel so selfish in my pain

How do I feel great excitement on one hand and also feel great loss?

How does my mind and spirit untangle these emotions of healing and moving forward, which brings great joy, from the tears and heartache of saying goodbye to something that brought great joy?

How can I be exuberantly happy about love blooming and growing, because I am, and yet experience waves of sorrow washing over me from the loss of what was.

I feel selfish in my pain, as if my pain overrides the joy for the progress of moving forward. A moving forward that is soothing, beautiful, and needed.

I know in my mind that this is good, yet I long so greatly for the past which can never return. And would not want to return if given the option.

Oh God, give me the eyes to see the beauty of now. Give me the heart to embrace it with no reserves. Help me remember the joy of the past and not weep.

Take away the selfishness of my pain.

New Visitor

We have a new visitor to our creek. I'm calling it a "he". Don't know why, just am. He is a beautiful Great Blue Heron and for some reason he has taken a liking to our neck of the woods. We actually live in the middle of a city, but...anyway. Something tells me it is the quiet park and a creek full of snakes, turtles, and fish.

He just finished sunning his wings. They were all spread all out while he faced the rising sun. It was almost like he was meditating. He just stood there looking completely relaxed soaking up the warmth.

When he gets agitated the long black feathers on the top of his head stick straight up and he puffs out all the rest of his feathers. That happened right after the Mallard drake almost took his head off while coming in for a landing.

The other day he was talking like crazy. I don't know what he was saying. I don't speak heron, but he was telling some kind of story or letting off steam. He was on a roll.

I would love it if another one came along and we had baby herons. Wouldn't that be a hoot to watch? I love watching baby anythings.

I need to read up on them.

Joy is...

finding that you have coffee when you thought you were out.

Running

I dream about running. I love the thought of running. I think running is romantic. I don't know why.

My brother coaches track, so the other day I asked him what to do about shin splints. I've battled them forever. He was so sweet and told me I need to lose weight. I just LOVE him. He also suggested that I might be running flat footed.

I knew I had a problem in the running flat footed department. I started making a serious concentrated effort to use my whole foot. I'm glad no video cameras are around when I run. Concentrating so hard on my feet placement makes the rest of my body do weird things. People probably think I'm having a seizure or something.

You know how when little kids pretend they're horses and they bob their heads and hold their hands a certain way to prance around? I'm pretty sure that's what I look like at the track which might fly if I were five or a horse.

My right hand curls up and starts making a rocking motion mirroring my right foot. My left arm crosses my body and swings from side to side instead of front to back. And my head bobs up and down. It is lovely!

BUT...

My shin splints are gone.

I now just have to get used to the stares of astonishment and confusion.



2 Timothy 4:7 This is the only race worth running.

Getting Through Today

Psalm 37:23-24 NAS

"The steps of a man are established by the LORD;
And He delights in his way.
When he falls, he shall not be hurled headlong;
Because the LORD is the One who holds his hand."

Glass Floor

The Glass Floor has been broken. Most people hit a glass ceiling, but I was having trouble going down. Now, only 30 more pounds to go. I still weigh more than I did nine months pregnant with any of my kids.

The Sometimes Annual Family Campout

I’m at the Sometimes Annual Family Campout in cool, breezy Tyler State Park. If any of you have been to Tyler State Park in June you know that I am full of it when I say cool and breezy. We are all sweating like crazy, but that's part of the fun. Along with swimming in the lake and the little kids getting as dirty as they possibly can. There was the time Phyllis’ grandkids found the delightful cold fire pit full of black ashes. Then after a rainstorm my niece and nephew discovered a hill of slimy red mud. This year it is a plastic wading pool full of sand. Poor Faith got her undies completely inundated.

When the sun goes down the young'uns become terrors with their flashlights. No one is safe from their beams. Today someone gave the toddlers a huge bottle of bubbles which kept Trace busy keeping refilling the dipping pan. Then tiny little water guns that had to be refilled after about ten shots appeared. No one was complaining about getting hit. It was that hot. No one complained either when the water balloons came out for a girls against guys fight.

This Sometimes Annual Family Campout usually includes 50 or so people. We don’t call it a reunion because most of the people here reside in the same town and see each other on an almost daily bases. But a few of us that live other places join in.

Then there are the people that aren’t really related by blood or marriage, but by love, sweat, and tears. It can get real confusing for a newcomer trying to figure out how we are all connected. Some of those “related by love, sweat, and tears” are more involved with the family than the blood ones.

One thing about this family is that we are all crazy as loons. There are some individuals that say they are crazy, but deep down they believe they are the sanes ones. Hah! Those are the craziest of the bunch. They’re also usually the ones that stay up all night playing 42. Or the ones that decide to swim across the lake and then spend the rest of the evening wishing they hadn't decided to swim across the lake.

The 42 game wrapped up early this year. Seems to be all the players are getting a little long in the tooth. Meaning, they're getting too old to pull all nighters. We did notice it is a lot quieter with them not playing the night through.

And I have to say that one of the members of this family is a big wimp. Trace brought three fans and a window unit air conditioner for his screened in cabin.

Trying to lose weight

I'm heavier now than I was at nine months with any of my babies. Fifty pounds heavier than I was in high school. I feel like a stuffed toad. If I could only put about six more inches in height I would be in great shape. I've been working out and have decided that my muscles are so out of shape that they do not even realize they exist. It's horrifying! Walk, run, ride bikes for 7 miles a day and not a twinge. Does this mean I'm not trying hard enough? The puddle of sweat that I create begs to differ.

New Orleans Five

The following is a letter written by our fearless team leader:

Hey Parents,

Have you heard enough about New Orleans? I can't stop thinking about our trip. I especially can't stop thinking about our awesome students! Not one of them gave me any trouble. We had change after change during our stay and each one of them rolled with the punches. They were ready to serve. God stretched each and every one of us and we met HIS challenge.

Please give me a moment to share my memories:

• We were deeply impacted by the "tent city" of homeless under the freeway as we turned ourselves around after a wrong exit from the interstate.
• Amanda begging me to take our leftover pizza back to the homeless who lived in the tent city.
• Gary rushing out the door to help with the VBS battle.
• Our student's solemn faces returning from that first VBS then their determined looks to go back and love them in Jesus' name.
• Olivia's strong words of disappointment in the kid's behavior and then her determined look to go back and love anyway. All because she wanted to be obedient to Christ.
• Rachel's encouraging words to love the unlovely. She wisely compared our past experiences in Juarez and challenged to students to take that same love to the children in the projects.
• Our boy's valiant faces when we told them we need them as "bouncers" for the rest of the VBS's.
• Lizzy's look of love as she befriended one to the toughest girls in the group.
• Corinn's sweet dirty face as she worked with the boys everyday at Canal Baptist Church. This is a downtown church that was destroyed by the flood and is finally rebuilding. It's a deaf church and now Brent Robertson knows sign language!
• The hungry eyes of the intercessory team while Gary and Nancy served yummy homemade meals. Ask your students about the homemade biscuits, enchiladas, sloppy joes, eggs, bacon...
• Katie Morrical's laughter as I got lost several times delivering lunch to the teams. We crossed the bridge twice and had to pay twice!! No mercy from the toll lady.
• Daniel Feller's midnight birthday party.
• The smell of homemade cookies thanks to you and Nancy Purdy.
• The sounds of worship thanks to the worship team. NOTE: Worship and devotionals were led by our students!
• Will Menzies bravely standing by my husband as he kicked out some misbehaving boys during the block party.
• Paige enduring the fact a little boy just threw up on her!!!
• Emily taking care of Cornelius, yet she left him behind. (an ear of corn she picked at the downtown mission.)
• Kelsey staying behind one day to help me clean the facility.
• All of our faces of amazement as we viewed the areas where the levee broke and how high the water rose.
• The empty blocks where houses once stood in the Ninth Ward... only street signs and fire hydrants remain...
• The sounds of car horn beeping in appreciation as we stood and prayed at the Ninth Ward memorial. One day your child will hear the voice of our Father saying "well done good and faithful servant."

Thank you for raising great warriors and allowing us to take them to serve our neighbors in New Orleans.

Have a great summer and God bless your families.

Living in the River of HIS GLORY,
Leslie

New Orleans Four

Overwhelming
Gut-wrenching
Massive
Incomprehensible
Heart breaking
Complete neighborhoods gone
Empty lots
Ruins
Fear
Frustration
Thankfulness
Gratefulness
Years and years of rebuilding
Poor
Middle Class
Affluent
Katrina did not discriminate.

New Orleans Three

It has rained all day. Buckets and buckets. Torrents upon torrents. Is New Orleans really where you want to be when the rain won't stop?

Yesterday the center director kicked the VBS team out and said they could come back today. The team arrived to find the building locked up tight. They called to find out the reason. The director was getting on a plane and had forgotten to give someone the key to open the doors. Playing in the park really wasn't an option - due to the torrent upon torrents.

Riddle burned his hand with boiling water as he helped in the kitchen. They've taken him to the "Doc in the Box". It looked nasty.

Downstairs they are celebrating Feller's 18th birthday. The frosting Corinn made for his cookie cake has enough sugar in it to keep the whole group up all night. The guys already celebrated by taking his clothes while he was in the shower. With friends like that...

I am emotionally drained. The news about the Chapman family has weighed on my heart all day. My prayer is that God will give them a peace that passes understanding.

New Orleans

First full day in New Orleans was bad. It did not go well. My color coded, finely detailed grocery list for Sam's crashed and burned when they wouldn't let us use the school credit card for the purchase of a week's worth of food for 50 people. We never could get them to understand that the people listed in the computer could not come and vouch for us in person because they were all in Texas. They kept telling us to just call them and have them come to the store to say we could use the card.

Everyone else has been wonderful. Well, the group who went to do VBS in the projects will violently disagree with me. They came in looking shell shocked. Our kids thought the Juarez kids were needy and out of control. Today was a HUGE eye opener for them. They are still reeling.

The groups working in a church and in homes had wonderful experiences. It is so hard to comprehend that 80% of this city was under water. I still can't wrap my head around it.

I am exhausted. I really dislike Wal-Mart and I had to make two trips there today and have to go back tomorrow. BLECK! I've been on my feet all day and now the mosquitoes are trying to carry me away. The kids have been so helpful with everything in the kitchen. I greatly appreciate it.

This 13 Might Do Me In

Anyone who has had teenagers knows how fun having a thirteen year old can be. I've done it five times now. This last one might do me in.

Me on Saturday MORNING (meaning I had already had my fill of thirteen year old for the day!): Let's make a deal. I won't speak to you and you won't speak to me until you turn 14, okay?

Clay: And what if I haven't changed by the time I'm 14?

I can't bear the thought!

Miracles Still Happen

My eighteen year old son called out today, "Mom, can you come help me?"