Telling the Story to Ourselves

I feel sad and overwhelmed today as the sunshine streams through my window on this pretty spring day.  And that's the way it is sometimes.

We'd like to think change is just good and not accompanied with stress and exhaustion and regression.  That healing is only triumph and will erase all trauma.  That progress means that you'll never get stuck again.  That you won't feel gloomy anymore once the sun is shining again.  

Last spring, we went through an intensive training program in order to become certified to teach a set of parenting strategies that we feel passionate about to others.  The program is called "Empowered to Connect," (ETC) and it was developed to support parents & caregivers of children "from hard places."  That phrase "from hard places," gets thrown around a lot as a popular phrase in adoption circles now, but in essence, it refers to a child who has experienced trauma of any form.  (That can include children who were involved in high risk/high stress pregnancies/births, spent time in the NICU/hospital, experienced childhood illnesses, or experienced any kind of traumatic event in their life.  That includes many more children than those who came to their families through adoption!)

We have loved and used this material since it was first presented to us when we were preparing to become adoptive parents.  We've read Dr. Karyn Purvis's book, "The Connected Child," multiple times, attended the Empowered to Connect Conference, participated in both the pre-adoptive ETC course as well as the post-adoptive parent Connect course, and then we were trained to be trainers.  We have had lots and lots and lots of practice with this material over the last six years.

And yet, I felt a heaviness yesterday as I attended a simulcast here in Memphis of the annual ETC conference.  No matter how much training I've received, how many books I've read, how many seminars I use to remind myself of the principals that promote connection and healing with my children...it's still really hard.  It's HARD.  Because trauma and pain and feelings and growing and BEING A PERSON is hard.  For everyone.

We've had a big year.  We're having a big year.  I joked the other day (in the context of forgetting to take a family picture on Easter) that "I don't do 2015."  So many plates are spinning and they're overwhelming and complex, and everything else has been pared down to the bare bones.  I didn't do my "12 Days of Christmas" this year or put ornaments on the tree or travel for New Year's or make Nick's chocolate peanut butter layer cake or compile Rhet's annual birthday video or do anything out of the ordinary for our 9th anniversary or hide eggs to hunt in the back yard.  We are keeping it so so SO simple.

And we're all feeling it, those big changes.  I've been honest with friends about how we're dealing with transition and regression with our kiddos.  But it struck me yesterday as I tried to hold the guilt and shame at bay while listening to experts talk about these parenting principles and values that I feel so passionate about...WE'VE regressed too.  Stress just does that.  It knocks you off your feet...pushes you back a couple steps.  I'm not peeing in my pants, but I might as well be...because I sure am regressing back to that yelling voice and angry eyes and lecture, lecture, lecturing...and so much despair that what I'm doing doesn't matter, that it's not making a difference, that I'm just spinning my wheels...

This is why the story matters.  This is why His Story matters.  We struggle to connect and and we repair our mistakes and we do our best, and then we do it all again the next day.  And through that mess, He is healing, restoring, redeeming.  WE are the WEAK ONES.  He is the strength.  We lose sight of the progress, and we feel like everything is sliding backwards, but He is writing the story.  And when we tell it, we see where we've come from and how we got here.

This whole time I've been thinking, "I need to tell them Brooklyn's story.  I need to tell them how God is at work in the world and in her life.  I need to tell them for His glory.  I need to tell them to strengthen their hearts and faith."  But this whole time...I've needed it.  I've been telling the story to myself.

He is not finished.  There is more to come.  And some of it will be so freaking hard.  And some if will be blindingly glorious.  But I'm going to keep telling this story...her story...His Story...to myself.  Because it's just what I need to keep doing this today. 

Same Woman, Different Mother

Last Wednesday marked 7 months since we were ready to be put on our agency's wait list...

6 months since we were told it would be 1-5 more months...

10 months since our dossier was accepted...

13 months since we began our home study...

23 months since we started intentionally saving for our adoption...

31 months since we made the decision to adopt our first child...

A year ago, I was excited about preparing to be a mother.

Six months ago, I was starting to feel more and more like an expectant mother.

Three months ago, I expected to be home with our child.

Five months ago, my husband gave me the most wonderful Mother's Day gift possible. At first, I was a tiny bit bummed. I was expecting a beautiful piece of jewelry or some perfume. (I had been enamored with an Etsy shop that sold necklaces in the shapes of Africa & Ethiopia. I had also been seeking "my perfect scent" that my future child would know "smelled like me.") But no jewelry. No perfume. No breakfast in bed. (Although, I did get some Beauty Shop brunch, which in my opinion is better!)

Instead, I got this...

The Bible I received at my high school graduation was so "loved" that it had duct tape around the spine and "Jesse Maddox" imprinted on the cover. Nick had it rebound to restore it to perfect condition, and he had my new name printed on the front. I thought it was sweet.

Sweet...but for Mother's Day? However, this gift became "The Perfect Mother's Day Gift" (TPMDG) in the months that followed...in the months that this mother-to-be waited. I thought I was as ready as I could be. I had read the books. Gone to the conferences. Subscribed to the email lists. We bought the crib. Assembled the crib. Planned the bedding. Made the bedding. Sewed the curtains. Painted the nursery. Replaced the baseboards. Bought the glider. Assembled the glider. Recovered the glider. Arranged the furniture. We did all of this with painstaking distance between each event, so as not to rush the process. So as not to become impatient. So as not to become "those people" who are all ready and sitting around twiddling their thumbs...and worse, whining about it.

And yet, the waiting.

My morning coffee with the Lord became not just "nice." It became imperative. "Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord." "Give us this day our daily bread." Plain-speak: I relied upon God's Word to sustain me each day. Correction: I RELY upon God's Word to sustain me each day.

Have you ever waited for something?

Maybe you've never adopted. But...maybe you waited to grow up. Or maybe you waited to fall in love. Or to find the right job. Or to quit the wrong job. Or to get pregnant. Or to deliver your baby whenever he/she was ready to arrive. Or for your child to grow out of a particularly trying era of life.

(Um, what part of a child's life is NOT particularly trying? I'm just sayin'...)

Life = waiting.

I've been given this unexpected blessing. 9 months. That's the normal allotment a mother-to-be is given to wait. (Don't ask me about weeks--those confuse me!) I have many friends that have gone right up to their due date...and past. And they are miserable. And wondering. And trying anything possible to speed up their unknown short-term wait.

(I am NOT judging that. It looks miserable to be 9 full months pregnant--my heart waits anxiously along with these friends!)

But what if you got pregnant. And your due date came. And went. And you were still pregnant 1, 2, 3, 4 months later...with no certainty of when that baby would be delivered? Yeah, you're going crazy in your mind, right?

It doesn't sound like a blessing. But it is.

I didn't realize that training for a marathon two years ago would prepare me for this wait. I often joke (in full seriousness) that training for a marathon is all about teaching your body how to suffer. I like to run, but do you think anyone LIKES running 26.2 miles? No! It sucks! I basically trained my body how to suffer...how to painfully WAIT for 26.2 miles until I got to the finish. But it is amazing. And the feeling of finishing that type of challenge, of "summiting that mountain" per say, is unmatched.

Waiting can feel like suffering.

The Best Mother's Day Gift Ever allowed me to become a different mother. Yes, I was prepared and excited and ready for the challenge of parenthood (as much as I could be!)...months ago. But in these extra "overdue" months, I have learned a lesson that has transformed the way I will approach parenting (and LIFE).

Life = waiting. And waiting is suffering. Which requires a deep peace and supernatural patience. And I don't have what it takes to provide that for myself.

I don't. I really don't.

Jesus said,

"I am the way,

the truth,

and the life..."

(John 14:6)

I have found in these overdue months (with the help of my BMDGE) that the Lord is the only Way to anything...the only Truth about anything...and He. IS. LIFE.

He is the only way to live life.

And so on days like today...Friday...the "Monday" of the adoption world (last day for referral possibilities until the work week begins again on Monday...ugh, FRIDAYS)...I feel blue. I feel hopeless. I feel whiny. I feel jealous. I feel bitter. I feel regretful. I feel tired.

And I sit before the Lord with my morning coffee and my BMDGE...and I wait.

"Do you not know? Have you not heard?

The Lord is the EVERLASTING God...

He WILL NOT grow tired or weary,

and His understanding no one can fathom.

He gives STRENGTH to the weary

and increases the POWER of the weak...

Those who hope in the Lord will

RENEW.

THEIR.

STRENGTH."

(Isaiah 40:28-31)

Only God can renew my strength.

Only God can give me peace for today that overcomes my stress.

Only God can give me patience for today that overcomes a 31-month-and-counting journey to becoming a parent.

Only God can give me hope that overcomes repeated disappointment and false expectations.

Only God.

And that is why I am a different mother before ever stepping foot into the world of diapers, sleepless nights, colic, spit-up, and "mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy..."

Because I know I am not cut out for that.

But the Spirit of God inside me is.

"May the God of HOPE

FILL YOU with ALL JOY and PEACE

AS YOU TRUST in Him

so that you may OVERFLOW WITH HOPE

BY THE POWER of the HOLY SPIRIT."

(Romans 15:13...My "Daily Bread" verse.)

Five for Five

"From HIV to Home" is an organization that Nick & I support--I invite you to join them in this great initiative! World AIDS Day is on December 5th...

Only 15 days left til we raise our voices

for orphans around the world living with HIV...

Take this chance to spread the word today -

on your Facebook page, through twitter,

on your blog, with an email....

Invite those around you to join in.

Send them to www.fromhivtohome.org

and tell them to click on the World AIDS Day graphic.

If You Can't Beat 'Em, Try to Change Their Minds...

I'll be the first one to say that Christmas is my favorite holiday.
I'm no Scrooge.
However, I think we have some hurry-sickness in today's Ameircan culture that is displaying itself in the form of skipping holidays. No, it's not Christmas-time, Target--Thanksgiving comes first. And while some people may hate that holiday because getting stuff isn't involved and it seems kind of boring, it happens to still exist. We don't decorate for Christmas in our house until Thanksgiving has passed. And that's the way it is. (And we could all do a little better looking forward to the holiday that celebrates being grateful, don't you think?)

But this leads me to my larger beef with Christmas. I won't even get started with the more serious sicknesses America has linked with this holiday. I'll let the video speak for itself...



What do you think about this? I'm 100% on board--who's with me?
(For more information on the Advent Conspiracy, visit their website here.)

Everything & Nothing

Last year I made a buddy in the first grade at Georgia Avenue Elementary, and we read books together every week. I had a grand time with my new friend as we read through some of the "classics" I remembered from my childhood, and I was also introduced to a wide range of new children's literature. (It's AMAZING the words first-graders are required to know in 2009! I clearly remember a story with the word "joyous celebration" repeated over and over...What happened to: "Run, Spot, run?")

One particular week, the reading assignment we were working through was entitled "An Egg is an Egg." Have any of you read this book? I was so in love with this story--it is about all kinds of things that change...an egg becomes a chick, a seed becomes a flower, day becomes night. After each example, there is a "chorus" of sorts that says "Everything changes. Nothing stays the same." As my little friend and I read through the story, I found myself starting to cry.

I both crave & dread change at the same time. I love reading over old letters and prayer journals, feeling my faint smile as I read about my dread over leaving college...my excited trepidation of falling in love (and WHEN would it happen?!)...my anxiety over not knowing how God would work & move in my life. And yet, I have reveled in my post-college experiences, I am in fascination of love's ever-advancing depths, and God has and continues to stretch, shape, and move me in familiar but surprising ways.

Everything changes. Nothing stays the same.

I have been MIA recently due to all of these constant changes. We are making changes. Nothing will stay the same. And while there is some anxiety in that, there is also abundant joy.

The end of the book I enjoyed with my small companion gives a poignant reminder:
The parent narrating this story to the child reminds, "Some things never change. Some things always stay the same."

There are tendencies, perspectives, desires that I have had since birth. They were cultivated in my life as I discovered "who I was." They are ways that God created me to be. These are the qualities that people from all stages of my life would list as central parts of who I am.

My blonde hair is currently red. My level of girliness has fluctuated. My political views have constantly changed (you're not going to hear me ranting about them on Facebook, by the way), and don't even get me started on how different my theological perspectives are from week to week! My ideas of "what I want to be when I grow up" are STILL morphing into new hybrids.

And yet...My passion for the things I believe in has always been strong. (Or even just things I merely "like"--ha!) My conviction about "the right thing to do" has always been sensitive. My eyes have always been huge (the kids in my neighborhood used to call me "Cow Eyes"). I can't help but cry when something means something to me.

And then there is this part of me that has always been deeply affected by the things/people that are "left behind."

I went through a stage in my childhood where I would not throw trash away, because I "didn't want to hurt its' feelings." (What can I say? I had a big imagination...)

On a family vacation, I picked out a stuffed animal as a souvenir--it was a stuffed raccoon wearing sunglasses (it was the only one with sunglasses--lucky find!). When I took the sunglasses off in the parking lot, we discovered the stuffed raccoon only had one eye. My mom wanted me to go in and choose another stuffed animal that had both its eyes (I'm sure she felt annoyed at the sly way I'd been "tricked")--I insisted on keeping the stuffed animal...because I knew no other child would choose it.

I remember being so emotional after a high school trip to the City of Children in Ensenada, Mexico, when I learned that some of the children were able to have weekly visits from family members, and they spent all week looking forward to those times. I just hurt for those who had no family to visit them...those who dreaded that time each week.

I chose Owens as my first dog after discovering that 20,000 greyhounds were put to death each year because they weren't fast enough to win races. We brought Moses home because he was going to die from not being fed, and we decided to keep him after discovering he had heartworms, knowing no one was looking to own a dog with that condition.

I fell in love with the little town of Independence, Belize on my trips there with Highland's youth group. I loved teaching the teenagers during VBS, and there was one girl in our class of whom I always think about. She was tall and lanky, with a huge smile that went from ear to ear. She had a minor mental disability, and though the other teens were not mean to her, she did not have friends. She wore the same ill-fitting clothes to VBS each day. On one of our last afternoons, I accompanied some friends around town as we distributed clothes to some families who were in need. We stopped at this girl's house. It was made out of plywood and was the size of my living room. No running water. No electricity. I felt frantic, because it was our last stop and I only had a t-shirt and a pair of jeans left. I gave them to her mother, who repeatedly thanked us. The next day, this girl came to our last VBS class wearing the jeans and t-shirt (in 100+ degree weather), smiling her widest smile yet. She immediately walked right up and hugged me, saying "Thank you! I love!" I felt so ashamed because my gift was so small and worthless to me. I think about her and wonder...what her life is like...

I love that my husband embraces this character trait in my life by joining it with his own compassion, patience, and humility. He is so great with the awkward teenager, the left-out child, the underdog. He is a man of conviction, and he cares about the "least of these." Regardless of ideas about whether God creates "the one" for us, I know God created us with similar tendencies, and I know He's called us to similar things.

Some things never change. Some things always stay the same.

As I sat with my first-grade friend last spring and finished that wonderful story, I couldn't help but cry. The past several years of our plans for change welled up inside of me, and I realized the truth. The truth about this decision and the truth about myself.

Nick and I are embarking on the change of all changes in our life together--starting a family! (Ta daaaaa!) We are choosing to start our family by adopting a baby from Ethiopia. We are so thrilled and passionate about this decision, and (selfishly) I am super excited that I can finally share it publicly with you! We have already begun paperwork for our local home study and with our international agency, and we are in the midst of completing our home study meetings this month.

There will be future posts about how we made this decision, what the process will be like, etc--this has been a couple years in the making. But for now, we invite you to simply join us in our excitement about this new chapter in our lives as everything and nothing changes!

I'm Just a Passin' Through

Yesterday as I left a fabulous lunch with friends at Fresh Slices in midtown on the first 80-degree day of the year, I opened the sunroof, blasted the Classic Rock, and admired the fabulous architecture on Overton Park Avenue.  

It seemed each house I drove past was more impressive than the previous, and I found myself thinking, "That's my dream house...no, THAT's my dream house!" etc.  (This is reminiscent of a game I used to play with my brother Cody--we would sit in front of the TV on Saturday mornings and when a commercial came on, and whoever said "MINE!" first "got" the item.  I also play the adult version of this today by going through the J.Crew & Pottery Barn catalogues, folding pages over for the items I imaginarily "buy.")

I attended an amazing public school when we lived in upstate New York, and we learned about architecture styles & periods during my 4th grade year.  I have always loved Queen Anne's since that time (pictured above)--their turrets, shingles, stained glass details, ridiculously fabulous porches...  I spotted several as I drove down Overton, and I wondered when the owners might place them for sale so I could snatch one up.  (I'm sure it would be in my price range. ha.)

As I traveled on, I continued to think "Yes, that's my dream house," and imagine what furnishings and appliances and paint colors would garnish the insides of my future Queen Anne.  I day-dreamed about sitting on my wrap-around front porch, sipping my Arnold Palmer with a sprig of mint.  

And in the midst of my day-dreaming, I started imagining the worst.  It would really stink if we had a fire and my Dream House burned to the ground.  What if a tornado came through and ripped it apart?  I wondered if I would spend my whole existence in my Dream House with fear and paranoia of when it would be destroyed.  

It struck me at that moment that maybe we're not supposed to have our Dream Houses.  Our Dream Cars.  Our Dream Life.  Because then we'd love living on earth more than we looked forward to heaven?  Is this what Jesus meant when he said it might be tough for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of Heaven--perhaps they are perfectly content with what they possess on earth?

The eschatological language (grad school speak for: talk of "the end times") in the Bible tends to freak me out.  But it plays an important role in my life--it reminds me that the big picture includes more than my immediate surroundings.  That all of this will change, and a majority of it will fade, rust, be eaten by moths, you know the rest.  Instead of freaking me out, it should comfort me.  It reminds me that my life is not about attaining my Dream House, my Dream Car, my Dream Possessions.  My Dream Life is the one where I live with "just enough" so that others can benefit from my extra.  My Dream Life might involve having to change the seat settings in the car after my husband drives it...it might involve air conditioning units and hand-washing dishes.  

There is a tension in life, and we must experience it and live with it instead of pushing it under our purchases.  That tension is that things are not "right"...that things should be better.  But they aren't...yet.  I hate that tension.  I am known by several close friends to get under the covers and pull them up to my nose and wish for Jesus to come back, from time to time.  We (all of creation) were created with a longing for everything to be "made right."  Living with that tension is necessary.

In this era of my life, I am taught to think that what I currently have is Step One and to think forward to what I will have One Day.  But I'm just beginning to realize that what if Step One is the entirety of my life on earth?

I probably won't own that house pictured at the top of this post.  But I have no problem admiring it.  It just reminds me that One Day might be even better than a Queen Anne.

Eating It Up with a Spoon

I can't keep from watching the Academy Awards every year--the glitz, glamor, and fame are unmatched.  

But this year, I couldn't get enough of the themes of LEGACY!  (Those who know me know I am huge on legacy--the one we pass on to others as well as the ones we receive.)  I absolutely loved the new format of presenting the Oscar to the Best Actress & Actor (also Supporting).  

For those of you who missed it, 5 of the past years' Oscar recipients for the same award stepped out and individually praised each nominee.  Many of the women were brought to tears and the men puffed up their chests with pride as the powerful words of affirmation and encouragement were spoken to and about them.  What a fabulous "consolation prize!"  I would not have cared one bit about receiving that little golden statue after having someone speak such a blessing over me!  

That is what I want to do for young people--speak affirmation and blessing over them...passing on a legacy of sorts to inspire them to greatness.  I am thrilled that the Academy Awards began this tradition, and that is what I hope it becomes--a timeless tradition of blessing future generations.

"I'll Have a (RED) Short Gingersnap Soy Latte..."

News that thrills me, fresh from my emailbox:

Starbucks Joins (RED)™ to Help Save Lives in Africa

Partnership furthers Starbucks™ Shared Planet™ Commitment to the People and Communities that Grow Its Coffee

SEATTLE, NEW ORLEANS, October 29, 2008
– Starbucks Coffee Company (NASDAQ: SBUX) and (RED)™ today announced a multi-year partnership that will give coffee lovers a chance to do good every day. Through the partnership, launched as part of the Starbucks™ Shared Planet™ commitment to communities, a portion of the proceeds from special STARBUCKS (PRODUCT) RED products will go to the Global Fund to help save lives in Africa, a key coffee growing region for Starbucks.

Starting on November 27, 2008 and continuing through January 2, 2009, Starbucks will contribute five cents from the sale of any (STARBUCKS) RED EXCLUSIVE beverage* at all company-owned and licensed stores in the United States and Canada to the Global Fund to invest in AIDS programs in Africa.

Once (STARBUCKS) RED EXCLUSIVE Holiday beverages leave stores, the company will offer its customers the opportunity to make (RED) choices in their purchases every day.

"(RED) is making remarkable progress in the worldwide effort to address AIDS in Africa," said Howard Schultz, Starbucks chairman, president and CEO. "We have a deep partnership with coffee growing regions in Africa. We are proud to partner with our customers to contribute toward an AIDS-free Africa."

Schultz joined Bono, co-founder of (RED), for today's announcement in front of 10,000 Starbucks partners (employees) at the company's 2008 Leadership Conference in New Orleans.

"(RED) is coming to a corner near you thanks to Starbucks. I'm very excited to be able to say that," said Bono, co-founder of (RED). "The business of Starbucks with roots in Africa and branches all over the world is an ideal fit for (RED). It's pretty mind-blowing to think that millions of people can buy (RED) going about their daily lives and in doing so raise millions of dollars to fight AIDS in Africa. That's not a bad hit from your caffeine."

Starbucks partnership with (PRODUCT) RED reinforces the company's ongoing commitment to the people and communities that grow its coffee. This is a key component of Starbucks™ Shared Planet™, the company's approach to doing business responsibly. Starbucks currently buys coffee from ten African countries including Burundi, Cameroon, Congo, Ethiopia, Kenya, Malawi, Rwanda, Tanzania, Uganda and Zambia. In 2009 Starbucks plans to open Starbucks Farmer Support Centers in Ethiopia and Rwanda.

About (RED)™ and (PRODUCT) RED™
(RED)'s primary objective is to engage the private sector in raising awareness and funds for the Global Fund, to help eliminate AIDS in Africa. Companies whose products take on the (PRODUCT) RED mark contribute a significant percentage of the sales or portion of the profits from that product to the Global Fund to finance AIDS programs in Africa, with an emphasis on the health of women and children. Current partners are: American Express (U.K. only), Apple, Converse, Gap, Emporio Armani, Hallmark, Dell, Windows and Starbucks. Since its launch in the Spring of 2006, more than $112 million has been generated by (RED) for the Global Fund. (RED) money is at work in Swaziland, Rwanda, Ghana and Lesotho. For more information, visit www.joinred.com

About the Global Fund
Since its creation in 2002, the Global Fund has become the dominant financer of programs to fight AIDS, tuberculosis and malaria, with approved funding of US $11.5 billion for programs in 136 countries. The Global Fund supports programs based on agreed performance targets and disburses money in response to proven results. So far, programs supported by the Global Fund have averted more than 2.5 million deaths by providing AIDS treatment for 1.75 million people, TB treatment for 3.9 million people, and by the distribution of 59 million insecticide-treated bed nets for the prevention of malaria worldwide.

(RED)™ is the Global Fund's largest private sector contributor.

*The (STARBUCKS) RED EXCLUSIVE beverages are Peppermint Mocha Twist, Gingersnap Latte and Espresso Truffle only at participating locations.

Three Quotes for the Fourth of April

Today is an important day in Memphis. 

On this day where the incessant raindrops make me think of justice rolling down like water and rushing on like a never-ending stream, I thought I would share some moving words that are on my mind and in my heart...

Excerpts from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr's "Mountaintop Speech," given in Memphis, TN on April 3, 1968, the day before he was assassinated:

"Something is happening in Memphis, something is happening in our world...

In the human rights revolution, if something isn't done, and in a hurry, to bring the colored peoples of the world out of their long years of poverty, their long years of hurt and neglect, the whole world is doomed. Now, I'm just happy that God has allowed me to live in this period, to see what is unfolding. And I'm happy that He's allowed me to be in Memphis...

Now, let me say as I move to my conclusion that we've got to give ourselves to this struggle until the end. Nothing would be more tragic than to stop at this point, in Memphis. We've got to see it through. And when we have our march, you need to be there. Be concerned about your brother. You may not be on strike. But either we go up together, or we go down together....

We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord."

(Verse and chorus from "Pride" by U2)

Early morning, April 4
Shot rings out in the Memphis sky
Free at last, they took your life
They could not take your pride

In the name of love 

What more in the name of love

(Meditation written by Claudia Mair Burney in "Justice in the Burbs")

Jesus lives next door.  He's an eight-year-old girl and her three-year-old brother.  The Son of Man looks like those starving Ethiopian children.  He only gets breakfast and lunch at school, when he makes it.  His mama is a crack whore.  Nobody knows where his daddy is.  I heard his mama lets her "Johns" do things to him.

Poor King of Kings.

Jesus is two houses down and has six children.  Now he's pregnant with the seventh.  I don't know if he hasn't figured out what birth control is, or what, but how does he expect his husband to feed all those babies on that salary?  And you know with all those kids the Lord of Lords can't work.  That mean's hardworking taxpayer's money has to go for Christ's food stamps!

He needs to get fixed.

The Lord is a crazy man--paranoid schizophrenic.  If he doesn't take his medication, he walks up and down the street, cussing and spitting on everybody he passes.  He's homeless.  Nobody knows where his family is--if he's got one.  Digs out of the trash cans for food.  Somebody ought to get him off the street.

Jesus is nothing but a nuisance.

I'm starting to see the Son of God everywhere I go.  He's always crying or begging or looking pitiful.  Why doesn't he pull himself up by his bootstraps?  This is America!  Makes me mad.  He's ruining our neighborhood.

Somebody ought to do something about him.

Somebody.

From Now On, [Your] Troubles Will Be Out of Sight

...if you read the instructions.

This is something I'm passionate about.  Reading the instructions.  I feel that I should give this a proper rant as the season of instruction manuals approaches.  

When you get a new gizmo whatchamacallit, do you...
a. Read the instructions manual
b. Toss the instructions and figure it out yourself
c. Toss the instructions and ask someone else to figure it out for you

A is the only appropriate option for me and for those of you who pick C, I am just not a big fan of that.  Unless you ask ME to figure it out for you, which means I get to read YOUR instructions manual, in which case: yay for me!

It's not that I necessarily love reading boring instructions, but I am a play-by-the-rules kind of girl.  That doesn't sound very wild or thrilling, but it's just who I am.  No matter what the new item is, I read the rules before I plug it in or power it up or try it out.  

First car: drove it home from the owner's house and then sat in my driveway and read the instructions manual in the driver's seat.

The same follows for any other item that comes with directions.  Cell phones, computers, mixers, coffee makers, assemble-your-own bookshelves, my dog (I read every greyhound owner's manual out there before I brought him home), plants...you get the picture.  (To take it one step further, I am only able to cook/bake by using the exact recipe and I can only play piano if I am reading music.  Ha!)

I am prone to immediate gratification, so this is an interesting element of my personality.  Because reading the instructions inevitably delays playing with your new toy.  Nonetheless, each Christmas morning year after year has found me sitting in front of my new gift patiently reading booklets of various sizes and shapes.  

Before you think this obsessive trait is too strange, consider the benefits:

• You will always know EXACTLY EVERYTHING your new "thing" does.  (There is nothing worse to me than talking to someone else with a [noun] and they have never known that it [verb]s.  Ugh.)
• You will be able to most efficiently use your new item without interruption.  (No more mid-call on your new cell phone & you can't hear the person you're talking to because you don't know how to turn up the volume... This, by the way, happened to me today because an instruction manual was not given to me with my office cell phone.)
• You always know the power requirements for the gifts that you give.  Is your kid getting a remote control car?  You will know in advance what batteries it takes or how long to power it up before it works.  (My dad always powered up our toys before giving them to us on holidays--after all, it's incredibly anti-climactic to present that iPod with gusto and then your loved one has to plug it into the wall for two hours.)

I'm sure I could go on for hours in true Jesse-fashion, but I will just stop there.  

I'm also sure this reveals something very ridiculous and/or hilarious about me.  But I'm not sure what it is.  

The point is: be kind to yourself and those you love...read the rules!   

www.freederekwebb.com

are you a caedmon's call fan? i am and have evolved into a derek webb fan since he left caedmon's a while ago. he is really awesome at writing acoustic/folky music that have the most challenging messages.

this is something that derek webb wrote recently:

i love music. i have grown up with music as a close confidant. and i believe in the power of music to move people. there's something remarkable about the way a melody can soften someone to a new idea.

as an artist (and often an agitator), this is something i am keenly aware of. my most recent record 'mockingbird' deals with many sensitive issues including poverty, war, and the basic ethics by which we live and deal with others. but i found that music has been an exceptional means by which to get this potentially difficult conversation going. and this is certainly an important moment for dialogue amongst people who disagree about how to best love and take care of people, to get into the nuances of the issues.

one of the things that excites me most about the future of our business is how easy it is becoming to deliver music to people who want to hear it. i heard a story once about keith green caring so much that people were able to hear and engage with his music that he gave it away for free, which was a very difficult and expensive thing to do at that time. it's actually never been as simple as it is today to connect music with music fans. and i want people to have a chance to listen to mockingbird and engage in the conversation.

so this is why, on september 1st, we're launching freederekwebb.com, a place where anyone can go online and not just hear but actually download, keep, and share 'mockingbird' completely for free. In addition, freederekwebb.com will give you an opportunity to invite your friends to download 'mockingbird' in order to get them in on the conversation as well.

i hope you'll go to www.freederekwebb.com and download his album. it truly is good music with several really challenging messages.

here is one of my favorite (and most butt-kicking) songs:

rich young ruler

(vs. 1)
poverty is so hard to see
when it’s only on your tv and twenty miles across town
where we’re all living so good
that we moved out of Jesus’ neighborhood
where he’s hungry and not feeling so good
from going through our trash
he says, more than just your cash and coin
i want your time, i want your voice
i want the things you just can’t give me

(vs. 2)
so what must we do
here in the west we want to follow you
we speak the language and we keep all the rules
even a few we made up
come on and follow me
but sell your house, sell your suv
sell your stocks, sell your security
and give it to the poor
what is this, hey what’s the deal
i don’t sleep around and i don’t steal
i want the things you just can’t give me

(bridge)
because what you do to the least of these
my brother’s, you have done it to me
because i want the things you just can’t give me