stream of consciousness

Having a dream about camp...way too many speakers...I am getting bored, can't imagine how the kids are staying quiet.

Someone from the camp introduces me to the new Pastor at IBC. He is a lot younger than I expected. He doesn't like me, I can tell...

IBC...I miss them so much some times.

What I really think would surprise a lot of them...

Makes me think of L M Montgomery's Emily Trilogy. She got famous for Anne of Green Gables, but I have always preferred Emily. She's much darker. Much more interesting and deep and facetted. I have whole sections of those books memorized...even now I can recall them....no wonder, considering I read them so many times over.

I had a few books that I would read over and over again. I don't know why. I guess I was afraid I wouldn't enjoy a new book more. I was probably right. The Little House Books, Anne of Green Gables, The Emily Trilogy, I read a lot of Grace Livingston Hill and all of Janette Oke's books and Brock and Bodie Thoene's Zion Chronicles....But some books were just more meaningful than others....Emily was one of them...I wish a Peter Jackson type would make it into a movie....

Emily was a writer. What made her good at it was that she was a student of people.

I tried to be that when I acted in college. I did that project for Oral Interpretation class when I re-used some old high-school "Fine Arts" interp pieces. Brian yelled at me for re-doing. He said I needed to do fresh stuff. I didn't really know how to get "fresh stuff" because I'm not really that smart. I was only BS'ing my way through being with the drama geeks most of the time. They knew a lot of stuff I didn't know....

...but I knew stuff they didn't know, too. Dr. Firmin told me I had the "eye," the "Spider Senses" to be in the counseling program. I didn't want to be in the counseling program though....I needed counseling too much myself....

10 years makes a big difference though...I've lived a lot since then...I've met a lot of people...

You know, there are very few people I don't really like? Robb doesn't like a lot of people, which is hilarious for a pastor. He says they annoy him. That always shocks me. I can't imagine getting full-fledged "annoyed" with someone I hardly know. But then I figured out a while ago that when he says "annoyed" he means like a gnat is flying near him. When I say "annoyed" I mean a mosquito has stuck me with it's itchy straw and I'm about to smack it and smear my own blood all over my arm. I like people.

I used to impose little personalities on all my dolls and stuffed animals. I told my mom once that I pretended they had hurt feelings about things and she said wryly, "why don't you pretend that about your little sister?" It annoyed me at the time. I must have been about 9 years old. But I didn't like my sister at the time. Now I do. I love her to death. She's one of my best friends. She makes my mouth drop open in total surpise by the good things she does for me sometimes. I love her to death.

But I stink at parties. I hate them. I'm glad I'm not the only one. Anne Lamott hates parties too. I always get so anxious at parties. It brings up all my anxieties from junior high...which were legion. And also, I have to read people...and when there are so many people in the room, I can't read them all and I get sensory overload....

I like all kinds of people...people who swear...people who don't...people who are difficult and cranky, people who are seemingly dull on the surface and then have these amazing life-stories...people who are very good and kind and never lose their temper...but I can't be friends with them. I feel too guilty....

You know why I like people? It's because they are all ticking. There are all these motivations and dreams and cultures and hang-ups and longings swirling around in them. We are all the same in so many ways and yet all so very different. I love that. I love finding out what made them into who they are. That's why I liked acting so much. I not only got to figure out why the characters were what they were, but I got to try them on. People always wanted me to direct something after I had acted in some things and I never wanted to. That didn't seem any fun. But you know what would be fun?

Writing.

I could write. I wrote a novel in high school once. It was very dramatic and all the girls loved it, which of course is a sure bet that it was drivel.

But maybe when the kids are older...

I'll grow up to be a writer.

"You didn't tell us NOT to!"

I was on the phone today with a friend I haven't talked to in years. So these two opportunists grabbed their chance to play what they dubbed, "Mud Warriors." I heard them giggling on the front porch and my mouth dropped open. "You didn't tell us NOT to!" they shouted in unison. Which means, of course, that they pre-meditated this one.

That Baby...

is a big girl now. My sister made this darling outfit for Charleigh and I just had to take a pic of her in the midst of her busy, busy day.

operating instructions

I took Darla's advice and picked up Operating Instructions Anne Lamott's non-fiction journal of her son's first year. It was just what to the doctor ordered today....a fresh dose of "real."

I have had a lousy day. I, of course, am tempted to keep this fact to myself in the interest of not bugging the guys who read this blog with the boring details of another feminine rant, but after reading a bit tonight, I realized the girls need to know they are not alone ( at least I am hoping that I'm not alone when I go off about my day).

It started with another gray sky. I've gotten absolutely spoiled here, having not had more than two days in a row of gray skies. This was like day number four or something and all it basically means is that the kids can't go out to play, so they are totally underfoot the whole day, asking to eat and watch tv, the two things I am most passionate about them NOT doing. It also means a healthy dose of muddy dog prints all over the floors that mere days ago were so nice and clean, they actually squeaked. The way this ultimately plays out, it sticks to the bottom of my bare feet and ends up in our bed...nice gritty sheets.

Today is Robb's long day at the store...9:00 a.m. to 9:30 pm (which is 8:30 a.m. till 10:15 p.m. for us). It is silly for me to try to keep the car, and today, I added insult to injury by leaving my phone in the car, which hubby didn't discover until he was at work. Total isolation with three kids and a muddy dog on a rainy day....fun.

Nextly, my son. My dear son. My cherubic son, who like his father, has an annoyance factor a mile wide and an inch deep. The boy goes from playing quietly by himself to SCREACHING like he's been slashed with shards of glass because his little sister is TOUCHING his stuff. Meanwhile, Tilly doesn't want to do her schoolwork and they were all up too late the night before, making everyone a little frail to begin with. Then back to Vin who is simultaneously starving, wants the blue cup, doesn't want water, has to pee, and wants to play video games...and the speakers have begun to go nutty on the tv and won't TURN DOWN until the TV has been on for about 15 minutes. All the way up loud. Picture that with hard floors and small rooms and three small kids and video games....bleepety bleep bleep, indeed.

Add the next layer...About five boxes I found in the storage unit of ebay stuff. I was pleased to find them on one hand, but on the other hand, it was five boxes of GLASS WARE. I can't just pop the stuff in a closet: I have to take everything out, clean it, photograph it, research it, and upload the photos...which, on dial-up, takes about three days. In this batch, by the way, is my all-time-weirdest item to list: used dentures. You read that right.

So there's the mud, the whining, the glassware and dentures, and the omnipresent ants of course. I haven't washed dishes...well I did, but that was yesterday morning when I was on top of things... There are four loads of laundry in various stages of done-ness. There are three large bags of air-pillows and bubble wrap for me to use on boxes to pack. Throw in the box of raisins Charleigh absconded with, the roll of toilet paper rolling around because I'm the only person I know who can actually change the roll, and of course, the alphabet books, microscopic dolls with rubbery shoes and shirts and sparkly hair, and the legos of various shapes and sizes that lurk on the floor until you walk through the room and then dive kamikazi-style under your feet, pointy edges up.

Charleigh is at that cute stage where she mimics everything she hears. Literally, everything. Which wouldn't be so bad if Mattie wasn't in that stage where she questions everything she hears.

Somehow, we made it to supper time, when I went to the fridge only to discover that the flour tortillas I was counting on to make quesadillas had not actually been purchased last night at the grocery store. So I ad-libbed supper: grilled cheese and mushroom soup...which the kids took one sip of and shouted, "YUCK!" Five minutes later and much coaxing on my part, Vin had eaten his crusts but proceeded to drop the mug of soup on the floor, where it splattered onto...you guessed it...the glassware.

After more crazy mother shouting, something about "just sitting still and then maybe the dog wouldn't eat your sandwich!" I tried to salvage the day by putting in an educational movie I got for the kids from the library yesterday. We got 30 minutes of peace while we watched Scarob beatles roll dung across the desert and termites building a tower roughly the size of a 200 story building, but all heck broke loose when I brought the popcorn and orange juice they requested. If you have even a pea-size imagination, you know exactly where that ended up. It is my fault, of course, for not using my imagination.

There's more, but I'm too tired.

So they are in bed and I took a bath and let the chaos reign. It will probably depress me again tomorrow, but at least I will have my phone and I will call you and let it all out instead of yelling like a banshee when the children act like....gasp...can you even imagine....children.

I'm not proud of myself, but I figure as long as I'm running the tub for me and not to drown them, I'm doing okay.

Oh my poor ears...

What did you learn from Lent?

I wanted to recap a bit how rewarding it was for me to celebrate Lent by "fasting" from ebay. The short story is that it freed me up to read "The Papa Prayer," where I learned the art of creating a vacuum in my heart for God to fill. Honestly, nothing will ever be the same for me since glimpsing this amazing idea of relating with God through prayer. Through that struggle I found peace in the midst of chaos. I also felt led by God to share our needs with everyone. In sharing that need, we were given a great lead for dealing with the house situation. We may have some kind of answer by Tuesday! Also, Robb has an interview on Wednesday with his District Manager for the manager's position at FCB. I fully believe that prayer has been the key to all of this.

All that to say, I'm so glad I read about Lent on some of your blogs and that I obeyed God by taking part in it.

Keep praying...we have about a week left in the three weeks I asked you to pray for. I have no idea why that is the time frame that was impressed upon me, but God does!

What about Brian?

I've been a fan of JJ Abrams since Felicity. He does have a terrible habit of bombing the sophomore year, leaving the writing to nitwits in the Junior year, and then trying to sew things up neatly in the Senior year of every show he does (Felicity....Alias...Lost...and now Brian).

So anyway, I gave this show a chance based entirely on Abrams, not the show's premise, which is a group of 7 friends who are all in various stages of coupledom except for our odd man out, Brian, played by the oldest kid on that 7th Heaven show.

I have to say (after three episodes) two things: A. The show will probably make it. And 2. Maybe Brian wouldn't have such a hard time if he and his friends weren't all just horrible human beings who do the wrong thing with Horror Movie precision. I want to smack every one of them for being weak-kneed, lilly-livered, spineless and just plain, NOT nice. Shoot, I'm emergent, I accept people for who they are, where they are, blah blah blah but for pete's sake, people don't need more encouragment to be fools.

On an entirely diffent subject, I am SO HAPPY that "Will" is going to be in Alias wrap up. Really, jumping up and down, gleeful and squealing happy. (I already KNEW that Vaughn wasn't really dead...duh...it's ALIAS afterall). And I do realize that I need to get a new phone ringer because the Alias theme song isn't really cool anymore. Suggestions?

You already know I don't get out much. Don't judge me.

JW alert

Yup, two nice old ladies just dropped off The Watchtower. I didn't have the heart to argue with them today. Must be weird believing that Jesus is an alien from out of space.

Blue Shoe by Anne Lamott

Taking Matt's advice to his own wife, I read a whole book in the last two days. I've seen Anne Lamott's name all over emergent blogs and sites and when I stumbled across her book "Blue Shoe" at the library, I popped it into my oh-so-liberal-looking backpack.

There is really no other way to say this other than, it freaked me out. Robb called in the middle of the day to find me perched rather uncomfortably in a plastic chair on the porch outside the french doors, reading anxiously. I tried to explain to him how I was nearly horrified to keep reading and just as horrified at the thought of stopping. I paused only long enough to shut the dog up in her yard when she returned from a play-date with Clementine, covered in mud up to her eyeballs. Without mopping up the mud in the bathroom, I finished this ...this....sticky novel. Lamott is obsessed with smells..."odd as puppy's breath" is just one example. As someone who is completely obsessed with smells, it was like sensory overload for me. Seriously, give me a whiff of something and I can pretty much conjure up some kind of memory, emotion, or dream that goes with it. It was exhausting. And then for about an hour after I finished it, I just moped around. I didn't know if I wanted to cry or throw up or what.

Maybe coming off the last Mitford book, it was just too much of a contrast. There was just nothing to feel good about. I know it was realistic. I know it was the way a lot of people really are. I appreciate Lamott's firm belief in God's forgiveness, but she was kind of glib about it, which I don't like. Driven by lonliness and damage they had all done to one another, the characters just slowly deterioriated before your eyes...from the children biting their nails to the parents' unfaithfulness. I suppose the reason it was so viceral was that I am lonely too. And my children are under stress. And I feel myself reaching out to grab hold of chocolate or work or whatever else to steady me sometimes, instead of God. These people, though they loved God in their own way, were never so impacted by him to have it affect their choices. They chose one heartbreak after another. I guess I still want to believe that if you make right choices that it will save you heartbreak. Isn't that what Proverbs is about?

I remember when I worked in the steakhouse in college, I had this little game of roulette that I played: an older couple would come in about 5:00 p.m. for dinner, and I would take their order. I then had to decide if they looked old enough to offer the senior discount. If I didn't offer it and they didn't say anything, they would have a coniption at checkout because I was obviously trying to screw them out of their hard-earned social security money. If I DID offer it, on the other hand, oh the horrors! They weren't old enough to get it. The looks of hatred on their faces for this rediculously young snit who didn't know anything about life throwing their age up in their faces....It wasn't pretty folks. And I didn't win very often.

One day a couple came through and I waffled. I didn't offer the discount...I couldn't believe that this lady was old enough for it. She looked maybe 55. She ordered and then asked for the discount. I squinted at her incredulously..."You can't be old enough for that!" I protested.

"I'm 72, so I think I am." She replied cooly.

My mouth actually fell open and she laughed. I was serious. She didn't look a day over 55. "How do you stay...you look so young." I stammered.

"Clean living, dear. That's the key. Clean living."

I always remembered that.

So I read some of the author's comments about the book; she claims that she did not condone the choices the characters made. And yet, you found yourself hoping for the main charcters to hook up, even though he was married to someone else. It didn't sew up neatly in the end, but maybe more like the characters cutting their losses so they could move on.

I know I'm idealistic. But I'm also pragmatic. Life is about choices. When you make bad choices, your choices become more limited. Sometimes you have to make a gamble to get something better, but I still kind of believe that old Dr. Bob Jones quote..."It's never right to do wrong in order to get a chance to do right."

Well, its official.

I'm pretty sure this is a sin, but I'm....

bored.

I could do stuff. Housework, etc. but it'll just get dirty again, right?

I think it may have something to do with the fact that I haven't been out of the house since...uhmmmmm....thinking....was it Friday? Yes, it was Friday and I took the kids to what Paul Riser called the "Big Interactive Food Museum"

aka the Grocery Store.



Fun times, man.

Don't have nothin' t' say

I've been reading the last Mitford book, which is full of Mountain vernacular. I feel a little blogged out and haven't felt like blogging much, lately, which seems to be true of a lot of us. I'll be back when I have something to say.

The peace that passeth understanding, down in my heart...

I've always heard about the peace of God...that amazing calm in the midst of chaos...from the time I was a little girl. I have fuzzy recollections of singing that fast verse of "Joy, Joy, Joy" in that little white Methodist church we went to when I was very small. But honestly, I can't think of when I've personally experience this kind of peace before.

I hesitate to write about it, lest it slip away as silently as it came. But I am so surprised and thrilled to experience it, I can't help writing about it. I am just so confident that God is working things out. I'm not worried. I'm not tossed. I'm not awake and staring at the ceiling. I'm not snapping at my kids. I'm not avoiding the pain of the unknown with meaningless activity. I'm not scrambling to cover my own fear. And I'm not faking having faith. Call it that beam of light shining on me from heaven I wrote about before. That's what it feels like.

I'm not sure I can recreate how I got to this place of peace. I apologize to you, my friends who are struggling to stay above the waves. I know that some of you are absolutely exhausted by the circumstances you are facing. My heart aches for you. I wish I could give a three point explanation for how to find peace, but if I have learned anything about God lately, it is that He is not predictable or formulaic. What I do hope is that you can draw comfort from the fact that it is possible. You know I'm no faker. I abhor pretense. I despise hypocrisy in Christianity. So you know I'm not just putting on my happy face. I doubted. I said frighteningly honest things to God. I sinned in doubt. But I held on. I still hoped. I kept wrestling with Him.

Just don't give up.

Peace, be still.

Here is a copy of an email I just sent out to family and friends. I'm posting it here too, since I don't have everyone's email address:

Hey Friends and Fam,

Most of you know how long we have been trying to sell our house and how slow the process has been. We have a new realtor who has been working hard, but with the economy so bad in Michigan, it's not looking good. We have already lowered the price twice and are going to lower it once more, which is as low as we can possibly go. Even at this price (lower than what we paid for it) it is not a sure thing that it will sell. Financially, our backs are against the wall. We have been at Hollyhock House for 6 months, when the usual stay is 2 months, and it is far past the time that we need to leave. Our hosts have been very gracious, but we cannot impose on them any longer. We need to leave here by the end of May. There are many things that are converging at this time....the end of the school year, a possible promotion for Robb at the bookstore, and the beginning of the public events for the launch of the new church are just a few. Unless we sell the house, we cannot buy another one, and every rental situation we have looked into has resulted in a door firmly shut.

Our time at Hollyhock House has been a significant time of growth in our relationship with God and one another. It has been the first time in our married life that we have navigated these relationships outside of the realm of "professional" ministry. I can honestly say that these 6 months have been some of the most intense times we have had, and this past 40 days of Lent have been even more intense and focused. We approach this Easter more keenly aware than we have ever been of our great need and His great provision.

I am asking that you join us in praying specifically that our house would sell within the next three weeks. This can only be accomplished by God. We have no more options financially or emotionally. Our backs are against the wall. We have complete confidence in God's care for us and His timing. We are asking you to join us in asking for this mountain to be moved.

Looking forward to His plan,

Vanessa, Robb, and the kids.




If you have talked with me in the last few days, you probably heard the scattered and rushed tone in my voice. I have been feverishly working at setting up rental appointments, researching school districts, talking to our realtor and frankly....panicking.

Last night, I lay down with my mind buzzing, hoping to pray, but I was just out of words. I've told some of you about how I don't know what else to pray. Last night, I realized that I needed to listen, not talk.

God strongly impressed upon my mind (with scriptures) that I need to sell off the rest of the ebay stuff in an orderly way, clean the house, and focus my attention on my family. I should not scramble any more after housing options, but rather, just be faithful in the little things that are before me. I am not to rush ahead or to take on more responsibility (or ebay stock!). I need to wait and trust Him.

From an external point of view, it is pure crazy. I feel like we are standing around the enemy camp in the dark, holding our pottery with torches inside, getting ready to blow our plastic trumpets. It's nuts. And if it works, there'll be no doubt that God did it.

As if I wasn't busy enough today....

....we are diaperless in Bentonville.

Potpurri

Here's a broad overview of what is happening with the Ryerse Family:

Robb has an application in for a Bible and Theology 1 year teaching position at John Brown University (about 20 mile from us). He sent initial paperwork already and they contacted him to fill out their application. He is about to take over as interim manager at Family Christian Store until the DM can come from MS and interview him for the regular Manager position in the first week of May. He is also still teaching at PCCS until May.

Tonight we are doing our taxes. I have no idea where all the "stuff" for that is and it will be on my to do list to round up the "stuff" from hither and yon. This includes, but is not limited to, figuring out the adoption costs of Charleigh.

We are also trying to make a decision about the price of the house we are selling. With our time at HH ending, we need to sell soon, but have a financial obligation to Ithaca Baptist to fulfill since they loaned us money for a down payment, which we are to return to them. This has been on our minds all these months. Tax return will play into this.

I am exploring different housing options, and have spent a good chunk of the last few days on the phone making appointments to see rentals and finding out who will put up with pets. Most of these situations require a 1 year lease, so I am also trying to research all the different schools to avoid having the kids in one school one year and another the next. (There is not "school of choice." It is limited to where you live.)

I'm behind on ebay and got a nuetral feedback last night which reads, and I quote...

"??????"

Since I haven't gotten any other communication from this buyer I am left wondering what the stink the problem is. I couldn't have used more bubble wrap or been more honest in the description. I'm left scratching my head.

All three kids and I have colds, which Robb has just decided that he WILL NOT get. So far, willpower is working for him.

Mattie is taking her first batch of standardized tests at school. She said they were mostly easy.

Vin and his dad have been getting up early in the morning to spend time together. They are working on a great project together. I will let Robb elaborate on it, but it's pretty cool....and I've gotten to sleep in for the last few mornings with no kid with ice cold feet wanting to cuddle with me at 5:30 a.m.

Charleigh turned 2 last week and has decided to become very conversational. Last night, while bringing her in from the car, we had this chat....

Charleigh: "Seat"
"yes, Charleigh, that is your car seat."

Charleigh: "Car. Brooom. Seat Car."

"yes, that's right. That is your car seat in the car that goes 'brooom'."

Charleigh: "Nubia!"
"okay, we forgot your bunny. Let's go get it."

(nubia, btw, is her word for "bunny." )

Last night was our Informational Meeting for Vintage Fellowship and we had a good group there. There was a good energy, even though I must admit that is was very weird to be "back in the saddle." I told the story of how Vintage Fellowship began and the guys did the other talking. Jaye T covered all the behind the scenes work, including getting up during the meeting to check on my kidlets who were having some kind of juice altercation. It was fun to see Robb and A together in action again...it hasn't been that easy-going and fun since college. We got a commitment from a guy who is very serious about helping as Worship leader, which was huge. He's a big U2 fan, so that's pretty much a good thing: ) We are also awaiting news about some other possible team members who could be filling some HUGE positions.

It was also at this meeting that I revealed a quirk I've developed: I don't say AMEN anymore at the end of my prayers. I am in fact, as awkward as a new calf at praying out loud these days. In my prayer transformation, I realized that this word has too much baggage...too many men shouting it out during sermons that were being hollered out when I was a little girl, too many "fake" moments in prayer, too much churchy jargon. A and Jaye T dissolved into laughter when I ended my prayer with "Talk to you later." This is how I end my conversations with my friends. I in no way want to lower the place of God to my standards, and maybe someday I'll be able to come back to "churchy words." and have them be more meaninful to me, but for now, this is what I've got.

The weather in AR today, as it was the last couple of days, has been PERFECT...sunny, bright, and in the mid-70's. You can actually feel the vitamin D as the sun soaks into your bones.

I've stopped at a couple of sales recently and found some good stuff. It's all very random, but it looks like I should be able to keep my ebay business afloat.

So that's where we are. We need prayer. We're tired but hopeful. We love each other more than ever, but sometimes the stress makes us snappish. I'm trying to decide at every given moment whether it is more important to clean up the house or find another one to live in. We talk to God a lot. Last night was a great time of refocussing for me.

Mattie asked us last night, "Isn't it more important to have a church than a house?"

Out of the mouths of babes....

For no reason I can think of...

It's going to be alright
It's going to be alright

I can tell by your eyes that you're not getting any sleep
And you try to rise above it, but feel you're sinking in too deep
Oh, oh I believe, I believe that

It's going to be alright
It's going to be alright

I believe you'll outlive this pain in you heart
And you'll gain such a strength from what is tearing you apart
Oh, oh I believe I believe that

It's going to be alright
It's going to be alright

When some time has past us, and the story if retold
It will mirror the strength and the courage in your soul
Oh, oh, I believe I believe,

I believe
I believe

I did not come here to offer you clichÈ's
I will not pretend to know of all your pain
Just when you cannot, then I will hold out faith, for you

It's going to be alright
It's going to be alright

Sara Groves Lyrics

already under contract.

A-renting we will go.

The Plot Thickens...

...We were out for a Sunday drive today and found THE HOUSE. Right price, right location, right "feel."

Time to go...

The time to leave the Hollyhock House is nigh. We need to leave and we want to leave. We just don't know where we are going.

It has been strange how a number of things have converged at the same general vicinity in time:

1. IBC has called a new pastor
2. The school-year ends in a few weeks.
3. Robb has been named interim manager until the District Manager can interview Robb for the manager's position.
4. Vintage Fellowship activities are about to begin in full force.
5. Our time at Hollyhock House is ending.
6. Sara is finishing college as well as other people who will remain nameless, but who visited us last week.
7. Tax-return time.
8. Lent & Easter
9. The removal of the last visible ebay box from the storage unit.

I am antsy. Preoccupied. I poured apple juice (instead of milk) into my coffee, which cracked my kids up. I feel like I need to hurry. I want to list everything I can on ebay just to get it out of here, but I can only list 40 things. I want to pack up and stand at the door. Unless the house in MI sells, we can't get another mortgage, which means renting. If we rent, it needs to be in the right school district so that Mattie doesn't have to be shifted around again. But I don't have a flinging-flanging clue which school district is the right one for us. I try to pray, but I've already asked God so many times, it feels like "vain repetition". How many ways are there to say, Please, make the house sell!

I write this knowing full-well that we have been in tight situations before, and God has always been faithful. I am not going to lie, though, and say that I feel full of faith and that some beam of light is shining on me from heaven, making me confident and cheerful. I'm only human. I'm anxious. It's part of the journey. I'm doing my best to trust God and wait for Him to do His thing.

I owe you an apology....

I need to apologize. Let me explain.

I went to bed late last night, long after Robb had hit the hay. I finally drifted off around 12:30 a.m. into a deep, heavy sleep. You can imagine, then, how suddenly I started up in bed when I heard our dog, Sid, shoot out her doggy door with a menacing growl. This sound usually occurs about 3 nights out of 4, followed by some kind of pursuit of some critter that has foolishly entered Sid's fenced-in domain. On occasion, this has resulted in a clattering sound as the pursuit enters the crawl space under the house, and once, a cat even streaked through our bedroom where I eventually found it on our kitchen counters. However, this did not happen last night. Instead the growling became more intense than I had ever heard before, and I sensed that Sid was VERY upset. Robb jumped out of bed to call her in and I pulled the shade up to see what was happening. To my absolute horror, all I could see was what looked like a white stripe on a dark body.

I screached, "It's a skunk! A skunk! Get Sid in here!" Whereupon Robb hollered at Sid to COME more fiercely and she...mercifully...obeyed. I kept watching the vauge white THING, which was moving only slightly and slowly. Robb came to the window with me and tried to see what it was. The only flashlight we have in the house is a toy one we bought for my neice's birthday (and I keep needing it, so I haven't sent it yet!) I walked confusedly toward the kitchen to get it and slammed face-first into the hallway door. I shook off the zinging sensation and went on to get the flashlight. It is shaped like a zebra and when you squeeze a trigger, the light comes on while the zebra says "DO Te DO!"

So there we were with the "Do Te Do" zebra flashlight, which made it apparent that it was NOT a skunk, but rather, a cat with a PEANUT BUTTER JAR STUCK ON IT'S HEAD**. The white label was the only thing I could see in the dark. It was not moving at first and we both were pretty sure that it was dead.

"We've got to get rid of it." Robb said in a low tone. (Our hosts love animals and I couldn't tell if it was one of theirs or not).

"That seems like murder somehow!" I whispered back in horror. "I can't help you with this....I'll cry or throw up or pee my pants!"

(Mental note, don't send me into a combat situation).

"Okay." Said my brave and very manly husband.

"Make sure you wear gloves!" I admonished.

A few moments later, with Sid whining at the door, Robb slipped into the gate of the doggy fence. I began to laugh hysterically when I heard Robb say sweetly, "It's okay, Kitty. Here I come, Kitty...."

His gloved hand reached out and grabbed the peanut butter jar, releasing the cat with a very loud "POP" which I heard even through the window. The cat bolted to parts unknown, which only made me laugh harder.

I was still laughing when Robb slipped into our bedroom, where I shined the "Do Te Do" flashlight on him. He moaned dejectedly,"Why can't our life just be normal? Seriously, other people are not awakened by cats with peanut butter jars on their heads. Why...WHY can't we just be normal?"

It was at that moment that I realized the opportunity I had missed. I apologize to you Happiness readers, for depriving you of the visual. I should have taken a picture and I just plain forgot.

*For those of you who are wondering, I give Sid the nearly empty peanut butter jars to play with.

Why It Matters

My dear husband, who brilliantly leverages his abilities to nuture my soul, suprised me with Sara Groves' Add to the Beauty CD this morning. I've been intrigued with this artist ever since I was ushered into the presence of God with all my angst in tow by her song, "Maybe There is A Loving God." Other than that song, I'd never heard any of her other stuff, but suspected she was a kindred spirit. So, with the kids down for a nap, I was able to ingest this the way I like to listen to a new CD: loud, alone, and reading the lyrics. I don't think I'm just enthused over a new CD when I say that it was a very meaningful experience for me. I've come to the conclusion that I believe a musician's work is to say something that I cannot say, but feel deeply, not to entertain me. (I am generally suspicious of entertainment for entertainment's sake). She's not the most gifted singer or musician in the world...but I like her sound and feel. I like the simplicity of this album, dedicated to expressing an idea of the Kingdom. I will post the lyrics to just one among the many that were meaningful to me....And then hopefully, I'll be able to take my eyes off the sky, put down my warm cup of coffee and do what I need to do with the rest of this day.

Why It Matters...

Sit with me and tell me once again
Of the story that's been told us
Of the power that will hold us
Of the beauty, of the beauty
Why it matters

Speak to me until I understand
Why our thinking and creating
Why our efforts of narrating
About the beauty, of the beauty
And why it matters

Like the statue in the park
Of this war torn town
And it's protest of the darkness
And the chaos all around
With its beauty, how it matters
How it matters

Show me a love that never fails
Some compassion and attention
Midst confusion and dissention
Like small ramparts for the soul
How it matters

Like a single cup of water
How it matters