Category Archives: faith

A Jesus Lesson from Oscar

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Of all our three dogs (they’re all adopted), Oscar the Havanese is the most in love with me. So much so that he literally follows me anywhere I go throughout our house. I stand up to get something from my room upstairs, he follows. I get up from the couch to get a glass of water from the kitchen, he is right behind me. Even when I walk to the bathroom, Oscar trails me like a shadow, looking up at me as if to say: “Where are we going? I’m with you, Mom.”

When a noise outside our front door sets all three boys on a barking spree, Oscar is the only one who runs to me, and with his paws on my knees, looks up and softly whimpers: “Mom, there’s a noise outside. Can’t you hear it? It’s scary! Mo-om!”

He takes every chance he can to sit next to me on the couch, and lays his head on my chest and looks up into my eyes.

When I’m out of town on business, Oscar is the most miserable. He sulks and stares at the door, hoping I’ll walk in.

He just can’t get enough of me. I am the end all, be all of his existence.

Restored

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This is my one word for 2012.

It’s from one of my favorite Psalms, the 126th one. The verse that I love the most is the first:

When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dreamed.

I’ve been in such a dark and lonely valley for the most part of 2011, but I know that right beside me, my Savior stays and holds me by me right hand, and tells me constantly of His fierce, passionate love for me, even when I refuse to hear Him.

It’s been so dark that I’ve forgotten how to dream.

That’s what I’m looking forward to in 2012. Being restored.

How about you?

Our Christmas Without a Tree

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Our plan last year was to get a live tree this Christmas to help support local, small business owners instead of The Man who imports trees made in China. The Man being nationwide franchises like Walmart, Target, Kmart, etc. You get the picture.

The plan was: Buy tall-ish live tree outside the Walmart on Nolensville, buy lights from inside Walmart, and head home to make an event out of tree decorating. We were even planning on getting more decorations since the ones we had were barely enough to cover our five-foot tall Kmart-bought plastic tree with built-in lights.

That was the plan.

So after Christmas 2010, our faithful little two-year old Chinese tree was returned to its box for good — taped up, and then brought to a drive-thru Goodwill Drop Off.

And then life happened this year. Hospital trips both emergency and elective came along with the loss of my part-time job, and we’ve been pinching pennies and making budget cuts since the end of August.

While I was at our organization’s Winter Conference, Kyera sent me a text message:

“Where’s our tree? I was going to put it up but it’s not in our storage.”
“Are you sure? Did we donate it? I can’t remember.”
“Oh right! LOL. We did!”

Up until yesterday, I kept thinking about getting a tree. Definitely not a live one because they’re expensive, but a Chinese one bought from The Man. A five-foot tall tree is $80 now, fifty percent off, at Target, but I just couldn’t bring myself to spend that much on a tree when that money could and should go to groceries. When your priorities are down to food, clothing, shelter, and medical bills, there’s absolutely no room for “Christmas Tree” in the budget. Or clothing for that matter. Food and shelter is far more important. And paying medical bills.

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My Thanksgiving List for 2011

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I thought Kyera and I would not make it out of 2010. Little did I know that 2011 would take the cake! It’s been a medically dramatic year for us both. Medical Issues always come with their twin, Medical Bills, but I’m thankful that we work for an organization that provides insurance.

Thank you, 2011, for your ups and downs, so far:

It only makes sense that I start my list with my hospital stay on my birthday! Kyera and I were in Orlando for Every Nation’s 2011 North American Conference, Dream, at Disney World when I landed in the ER with severe stomach pain. Our human resources director, Carolyn Foster, was my nurse/nanny/confidant/cheerleader for three days, giving up her time with her family, and missing out on almost all of the conference sessions because of me and my diverticulitis. Everyone needs a Carolyn in their life.

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Occupied

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There’s no escaping the fact that Americans are facing a new economic reality. The Occupy movement started on Wall Street with people taking to the streets to “no longer tolerate the greed and corruption of the 1%,” the 1% being the wealthy. The 99% are the rest of America who struggle to make ends meet. They are the ones who have “occupied” Wall Street. Occupy has since grown from the streets of New York, to other cities, including Nashville, and so has the birth of other blogs from the other percentages of wealth.

There’s the 1 percent who stand with the 99 percent, America’s wealthiest who believe in wealth redistribution and higher taxes on the rich, and then there’s the 53%, the ones who work long hours and stay away from debt who say the issue on Wall Street is an issue of personal responsibility.

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Like Love Letters

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I’m going through a semi-rough season right now. Semi-rough because since losing one of my part-time jobs, I’m thisclose to asking for my old gas station attendant job again. I have more bills because of my hospital birthday stay in Orlando, and with a smaller income — and having already made budget cuts — the lure of taking on any job is strong.

Don’t get me wrong. I actually enjoyed my brief time at the gas station. Minus the constant fear of robberies, that is, I loved engaging customers. I was lucky that I had that as a second job. In this economy, any single job is a huge blessing. What more two?

I have voicing projects and social media consultations on the fence so jumping back to the gas station is something I’ve been hoping I wouldn’t have to do again.

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The Non-drama Drama

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Kyera waiting in the holding area before her outpatient surgery.

“I’m equal parts afraid and excited…” Kyera said to Rob the day before her scheduled surgery to remove her preauricular cyst. (She has me to thank for passing on my gene to her. You’re welcome, love.) “That’s what faith feels like,” he replied. “It’s like you’re standing on the edge and you know something is about to happen and you don’t know what other than that God is gonna be there.”

So true.

The surgery went well and I now have another medical bill that needs paying off. I guess you could say I’m back on the edge myself, equal parts afraid and excited, how God is going to come through this time. It’s not a first in the life of a single mom where money is tight.

Today was the official end of one of my part-time freelance contracts so the thought of applying for a part-time job somewhere that involves coffee, shoes, purses, or clothes, beckons. Wait. I don’t think I could work around shoes, purses, or clothes, or I would end up in a bigger hole.

I resist. For now at least. I know my body needs me to rest.

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Psyllium, Water, and Ditches

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It’s been a week since this year’s Global Leadership Summit from Willow Creek Association and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking on three fronts: career, health, spirit. My unexpected hospital stay couldn’t have been more perfectly timed. Spending a birthday in the hospital because of an emergency allowed me to rethink my life.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not about to wax poetic over my “wake-up call.” I will confess though that turning forty-two with a disease that’s common for people in their sixties did prove sobering. And it didn’t help that when I let myself wander over to Facebook, photos of my high school classmates looking better than they did when we were fourteen to sixteen year olds, added to my lucid, harsh realization that neglecting my body has taken its toll.

By neglect I mean, unhealthy food choices, working twelve to fourteen hour days juggling three jobs, sitting on my butt day in and day out. Every excess came crashing down in one micro-perforation in my large intestine.

I lay flat on my back—literally—for twelve hours on a twelve-inch wide cot in the ER and I let myself fall into God’s arms. I had no more excuses. “I have updates to post!”; “I have three audiobook summaries to record!”; “Emails need to be answered!” I was done, fully spent, and just grateful I didn’t need surgery.

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The One With My Birthday in the Hospital

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I spent my birthday at a hospital in Orlando, the city we left in 2009 in exchange for a better job for me in Nashville. The reason of our return to Central Florida was for work with a little bit of pleasure at our organization’s North American Conference at Disney World. I say “we” because Kyera also happens to work at the same office with me but in a different department.

The conference was from Tuesday, July 26, to Friday, July 29, so I flew south on Monday morning to do what I do best: communicate to the world everything that was happening at all the sessions and seminars through our official social networking channels.

I had it all planned out in my head, you see. I used to do remote broadcasts when I worked in radio. These “remotes” involved a small crew of technicians at a long table set with a mixing board and a microphone and an announcer. (We didn’t have a fancy OB van!) Said announcer basically painted a picture with words to get people to come to said location for goodies and treats and possible celebrity sightings. (The very first remote I did was for a fashion show in 1989. Will never forget it.) Now that I don’t have a microphone, I primarily do the same thing, but through Twitter and Facebook: live electronic updates. That was my plan.

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The things I learned when I turned 41

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My birthday came and went the last week of July without any fanfare. Kyera hates it that I don’t like being fussed over or celebrated with a party or special stuff. I don’t know why I don’t! Maybe it’s because being an only child, I was spoiled and had all the parties I could ever want when I was young so I feel all partied… out? (I need to think up another blog for why I’m not the self-birthday partying kind.)

I lost a friend in early July to breast cancer. Mine was just one life that she had touched by her friendship and faith and her losing her battle made me appreciate life in an even more profound way. (More profound because as an orphan, death had already left its mark on my life at least twice over.) Her battle was swift. She was brave and because I believe in Eternal Life, I rejoice that Maileen has ultimately won. Freed of her earthly body, she is now cancer-free for all eternity.

Maileen Hern and I may not have been best friends, but throughout the years, we shared moments wherein we connected — as moms, as fellow outreach leaders, as longtime members of Victory.

I welcomed my 41st year uneventfully perhaps because on some level I was afraid to change the status quo of my existence — wake, work, sleep, repeat — and rock the proverbial boat. Two days after my birthday, something in me changed.

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