Family Tree .... Where the leaves fall

Life in Christ Connected..



I admit it, I have the most complex family tree known to man. To begin there are my two parents.. with 3 siblings. (2 sisters, 1 brother, I also have 2 stepsisters,2 stepbrothers, and step parents) Papa and Hazel keep track of us all and there are almost 20 Aunts and Uncles, and over 110 cousins of all kinds...

 

 Starting at the top of my extended church family tree....Momella. Spiritual mother extraordinaire. Ohh... I have an entire family with 7 brothers and sisters, adopted as a teenager.. Ma and Pa Decker's clan.. I belong to them too.. it isn't wise to question Ma or her kids about this if you don't see where the branch is, as she is protective of what is hers, her kids are not far behind. Draw a line for nephews galore.. four  nieces with that clan... plus their own babies. Okay next branch, I have one sister who migrated from Africa, Cameroon, she and her husband have 3 kids. Let's see Lawrence calls me mum.. he's from Kenya. He has three boys, so I might be a grandma at 34.. okay.. My Aunt Dora who is a lovely lady who adopted me as her official "sobrina" which is Spanish for niece.. Then there is My family in Brazil, 2 uncles, Tony and Jerson, Carlos (dad), Fernanda (mom/sister/BFF) , 2 more siblings. (You should see this on paper it looks great). Then my twin brother Anderson (Jerson's son), yes we look nothing alike, are completely different birthdays, speak completely different languages, but you guessed. those lines run right together inseperable... okay so not to forget Troy, Eldon, and Tim, big brothers. They have been with me since I was a church tree sapling...

 

 

For many years I could not understand the depth of what it means to be a brother or sister in Christ. I thought it was just a way to be polite to people in church. Over the last ten years I have come to understand that a family member in Christ is the deepest connection we carry. I am not taking away from the value of blood family. No one knows more than I do how much we need the connection of the clan we have been born into. In our blood family, we need both connections. What I am looking at though now, is the clan we are re-born into, by knowing Jesus Christ, and how our earthy families can benefit from this kind of connection. I have connections in Christ in a different way with all of my family de terre. Part of the meaning of this life in Christ is having those people around you who you know simply love you as you are... the good and the bad. These people have come to know me as impatient, hot tempered, but also someone who will pray until they have no words left. This love is not a blind love.. it is tested and true. Believe me, more than once several of these people have been furious with me, and rightly so. However our connection with Christ allows us to talk about things. When either of us have things to deal with that are painful, we reach out for each other.

 

 While we love our earthly families, the connection there without God's presence, allows for us to "get away"with having a different standard for behavior. For example our earth logic is "if I borrow my sister's shirt without asking, it isn't stealing because it belonged to my sister. If I ruin it then she shouldn't get mad, because she's my sister. Sometimes I hear people insult their spouses, and it is supposed to be okay because well, that person their spouse.. I think you know where this is going. In our lives we need to be very mindful of the standards in which we see our our church family, and the rest of humanity including our family.. In the USA we often tend to give our earthly family, and the rest of humanity the short end of the stick. While our culture promotes autonomy and independence, it also gives a wide berth for treating our relatives badly when we feel the situation benefits us to do so. Sometimes we pretend parts of our family tree don't exist.. In other cultures we see a reverence for family and community that is beyond words, a closer representation of Christ's desires for us. There are branches everywhere here.. like my photo of Brazil up top.. I am not ripping the US apart in their life style.. but I do live here, and have been other places.. I know that many people from the US shake their heads when I speak of my extended family, and all of the ways that we do things together.. let alone trying to maintain a "regular family life" one that includes kind words for my husband every day and dinner at the table with our kids and regular visits with the family via Skype and facebook..... Having this kind of support, people who will love you, is a part of the connection to Christ that feeds us. It also keeps us on the path help the family tree to remain healthy. My regular family life benefits, because with all of the extra support, I can do more than if I was always alone. The truth is often times our extended family can see when our family tree leaves are falling too fast, and we need help.

 

We know that trees need  to shed their leaves when they rest. I look at all of the things that I have endured in life as a new leaf. Each time a leaf falls, a new leaf, or new blessing or trial comes in it's place. The trunk of my part of the tree has 34 rings. Without the blessings of some of these people, I may have only had 18 rings.. One of my extra family members nursed me though a terrible bout of pneumonia, others helped me quit drinking and smoking.. All of these people have pushed me closer to Christ, when I would have run away. Others have held out their hands when so many of my leaves were falling so that the roots were close to dying two years ago after some surgeries.

 

Recently I was gifted with a family in Brazil. People who love me with all of their hearts. They call me daughter, sister, and friend. My roots have grown so strong in the last little while that my leaves are growing green and bearing fruit that I never expected to grow. While distance, and more time will witness more leaves falling, I know one thing for sure, no matter what happens, I am loved no matter where the leaves fall, and I am blessed to have them as my branches..

 

Te amo muito.. minha familia..

 

 

 

 



My Lady....Thy Chariot Awaits..

I dedicate this article to my "Uncle Jerson"

 

Casa, é onde o coração é ...Tradução Inglês, Português e segue

 

I recently went to Brazil for a mission trip. I had no idea what would happen, or how much the people I would meet would change my life. In just 3 short months, I have gained an entire family. People I have only just met, but love so much, that I cannot imagine my life without them for even a second. While in Brazil I picked up some Portuguese, but really only had the skills of a "Portuguese" baby. one person in particular has really moved my heart with his acceptance. That is Jerson. Jerson is a quiet man with an easy going demeanor. He has kind eyes, and has spent his life smiling. He has the laugh lines to prove it. I am a very chatty person, and I struggle to keep quiet at times. His Brother Carlos and sister in law Fernanda are adopted family, we visit as often as we can.. Even though I had few words when I first met Jerson, I was determined to talk to him about everything, even in English. Why not?  It was worth a try, as sometimes a few words can be exchanged between langauges easily. One evening Jerson had hosted us at his place of work. It is a lovely gem in the São Paulo skyline with good food and music, I danced with his son Anderson, (my Brazilian twin brother), and enjoyed the company of all the other missionaries that had gone on this trip. While every person I met was kind to me in Brazil, the kindness of Jerson, stays with my heart for a reason. He is so quiet, but he tries to understand me when I speak my terrible Portuguese to him. He allows me to call him "Uncle Jerson" in English. While Carlos and Fernanda have a good understand of the English langauge, I cannot use the "Englishugese" mix with Jerson and have the same effect.

 

The night I went to São Paulo city center, when we were going home, Jerson gave me a ride. I was somewhat still in awe of the evening and trying to just listen to the sounds of the city. Suddenly about three or four miles from the house, in Portuguese I blurted out "We are very close to home".  Jerson just smiled at me a dazzling smile and said "yes". The look of happiness he gave me was so sincere. I had not traveled this route before as there are many ways to go one place in Brazil, and nothing looked familiar, but I knew where we were.. So why would this mean so much to me? What would Jerson's presence have to do with this feeling? It was a feeling of complete and total acceptance by someone who barely knew me. He was so happy that I had known where we were. I wonder if some of the smile came from using the word "home" correctly.. If I look even deeper in myself, I think it was the knowledge that he did not think it strange for me to feel at home in his presence. Part of the message of Jesus Christ that is so critical is the message of acceptance. Often times we speak of forgiveness and sharing, but of we do not truly accept those in our lives as they are, forgiveness and acceptance mean very little. What is the point of forgiving someone, or sharing a meal with them, if there is something about them that takes your thoughts away from the act of being with those people? When we were making arrangements to go home, Jerson could have requested a quieter missionary to accompany him, he also could have asked for one of the missionaries who spoke more Portuguese.. I would have never known. Instead when the time came to leave, he opened the car door and gave me a smile. He let me ask questions as I was able, and he was never impatient with me.

 

While Jerson is a world class musician, he humbly offers his music to the church each Sunday. He sings beautifully with his son Anderson, and brother Carlos. It would be very easy for someone of their talents to have a name as large as life itself in the music industry, yet they work together to spread the message of Christ's peace. While my love for Brazil each day grows, and Portuguese is not far behind, I pray that Jerson will always know how much his acceptance of me, just as I was will always have a special place in my heart.  

 

 Recentemente fui ao Brasil para uma viagem missionária. Eu não tinha idéia do que iria acontecer, ou o quanto as pessoas que ia conhecer iria mudar a minha vida. Em apenas 3 meses curtos, eu ganhei uma família inteira. Pessoas que eu só agora conheci, mas amo tanto, que eu não posso imaginar minha vida sem eles nem por um segundo. Enquanto no Brasil eu peguei um pouco de Português, mas na verdade só tinha as habilidades de um bebê "Português". uma pessoa em particular, tem realmente mudou meu coração com a sua aceitação. Que é Jerson. Jerson é um homem tranquilo, com uma postura fácil. Ele tem olhos bondosos, e passou a vida sorrindo. Ele tem as linhas de riso para provar isso. Eu sou uma pessoa muito falante, e eu me esforço para manter a calma às vezes. Seu irmão Carlos e cunhada Fernanda são adotadas família, visitar sempre que pudermos .. Mesmo que eu tivesse algumas palavras quando eu conheci Jerson, eu estava determinado a falar com ele sobre tudo, mesmo em Inglês. Por que não? Foi pena tentar, como às vezes algumas palavras podem ser trocadas entre langauges facilmente. Uma noite, Jerson havia hospedado nos em seu local de trabalho. É um adorável jóia em São Paulo skyline com boa comida e música, eu dancei com seu filho Anderson, (meu irmão gêmeo brasileiro), e se a empresa de todos os outros missionários que tinham ido nessa viagem. Embora cada pessoa que eu conheci foi gentil comigo, no Brasil, a bondade de Jerson, fica com o coração por uma razão. Ele é tranqüila, mas ele tenta me entender quando eu falo meu Português terrível para ele. Ele me permite chamá-lo de "tio Jerson" em Inglês. Enquanto Carlos e Fernanda têm uma boa compreensão do langauge Inglês, eu não posso usar o mix "Englishugese" com Jerson e têm o mesmo efeito.

A noite fui ao centro de São Paulo, quando estávamos indo para casa, Jerson deixe-me voltar com ele para a nossa casa. Eu estava um pouco ainda no temor da noite e tentando apenas ouvir os sons da cidade. De repente, cerca de três ou quatro quilômetros da casa, em Português eu soltei "Estamos muito perto de casa". Jerson apenas sorriu para mim um sorriso deslumbrante e disse "sim". O olhar de felicidade que ele me deu foi tão sincero. Eu não tinha viajado esta via antes, pois há muitas maneiras de ir um lugar no Brasil, e nada parecia familiar, mas eu sabia onde estávamos .. Então, por que isso significa muito para mim? Qual seria a presença Jerson tem a ver com esse sentimento? Foi um sentimento de aceitação completa e total por alguém que mal me conhecia. Ele estava tão feliz que eu sabia onde estávamos. Eu me pergunto se algum do sorriso veio de usar a palavra "casa" corretamente .. Se eu olhar ainda mais profundo em mim, eu acho que era o conhecimento que ele não ache estranho para mim sentir em casa na sua presença. Parte da mensagem de Jesus Cristo, que é tão importante é a mensagem de aceitação. Muitas vezes falamos de perdão e de partilha, mas de não aceitar aqueles verdadeiramente em nossas vidas como elas são, perdão e aceitação significam muito pouco. Qual é o ponto de perdoar alguém, ou partilhar uma refeição com eles, se há algo sobre eles que toma seus pensamentos longe do ato de estar com essas pessoas? Quando estávamos a fazer arranjos para ir para casa, Jerson poderia ter solicitado um missionário mais calma para acompanhá-lo, ele também poderia ter pedido a um dos missionários que falaram mais Português .. Eu nunca teria conhecido. Em vez disso, quando chegou a hora de sair, ele abriu a porta do carro e me deu um sorriso. Ele me deixou fazer perguntas que eu era capaz, e ele nunca foi impaciente comigo.
Enquanto Jerson é um músico de classe mundial, ele humildemente oferece sua música para a igreja todos os domingos. Ele canta lindamente com seu filho Anderson, e Carlos irmão. Seria muito fácil para alguém de seus talentos para ter um nome tão grande quanto a própria vida na indústria da música, mas eles trabalham juntos para espalhar a mensagem de paz de Cristo. Enquanto o meu amor pelo Brasil a cada dia cresce, e Português não fica muito atrás, eu rezo para que Jerson será sempre sabe o quanto a sua aceitação de mim, assim como eu estava sempre terá um lugar especial no meu coração.

Dancing with Portuguese

Fale devagar e falar suavemente

(Speak slowly, speak smoothly)

 

I have always loved languages. Eever since I had my first taste of Spanish from a 1950's Berlitz Spanish reader, I have wanted to speak forgien languages. When I was in high school I took 3 years of French and 6 months of Spanish. Those classes allowed me to meet people from many places in the world at conferences in the United States.While Spanish and French are very lovely, Portuguese is a very melodic mix of accent, intelligence, and a little facial expression. I have learned in just 5 days that unlike French and Spanish it is much more difficult to rely on cognates, or words that sound like words in English.

 

My friend Carlos is studying English, and we are trying to help each other learn our native languages. As I was listening to a lovely young lady speak last night I could understand much of what was being said at first, but she was speaking so rapidly after afew mintues... I could not. If it was a dance I would have been stepping on someones toes.. When I confessed that I was kind of lost becasue she was speaking fast, Carlos gently reminded me that I speak fast as well when I forget that he needs time to hear me as well. I do the same thing to Fernanda his wife, she smiles at me a lot and is very pateint.. for this I am very thankful.

 

The lesson for me...

 

How easy we often fall into narrow mind of thought when we are not the ones to be affected. I remeber when I first spoke to my church Uncle Tony about coming to Brazil, as he is native Brazilian and works very hard to grow the mission here. . I told him that I wanted to come and meet people and share about Jesus. He told me that I was only half way to the need of bringing Jesus to people here. The other half was going to meet people in their homes and bringing blessings to them personally. In the last few days I have seen the needs that this area has, I have spoken the language, but have just barely began to understand the importance of staying in step with the dance.

 

So many people are patient with my mistakes, they smile and laugh and do their best to help me. But I am learning that all that I say, and the order of words is not always as important as the message itself. "I care about you, and your concerns are real". I care enough to look at you when you speak to me, and I want to really hear what you have to say. And most improtant I want to have a realationship with you that gives you all of the worth and dignity that God gives.

 



What We Can't Take Back, Give to God

Forgiving Ourselves, the Elusive Element

I have been in thought lately because the leaves have changed. When the air gets cooler and the days get shorter, my mind often wanders back to my senior year of highschool. This was a time in my life when I was sustained by the Creator's Holy Spirit. It was also the time that I developed a grudge against myself that took years to heal. I am sharing about it now, for a young man that I know is in the dregs of life and needs to see what can happen if we don't forgive ourselves. The unforgiveness I had for myself, nearly cost me everything.

In order to help you understand my life as a teen I have to disclose the reality of my world back then. I was the second oldest child of four. My parents had divorced four years prior. My older sister had moved to Flint for work, and my dad worked about 70 hours a week. He was a full time bus driver and had to do alot of field trips and sports events to help us get by. Our home had been destroyed in the summer of 95 by a wind shear, two months before my senior year. Our belongings were soaked from the rain so the effects were much like that of a flood. While we were able to do some initial damage repair, the majority of the west half of the house was not insulated in full before winter. There was only 3/4 of the house covered with a roof, even though the walls were framed in. While my friends worried about prom, senior pictures and parties. I was worried about the kids at home with me, my dad who was working into a stupor on everything, and our house.

My senior year was not as bad as many years of school in some ways because I knew that I would soon be free of the many people who had made fun of me in years past. I had an easier work load because I had not taken as many credit hours.  There was drama and marching band to enjoy, even if being at home was hard, especially when the cold set in.

The first few weeks of school went well, I stayed with my friend Angie  and her family while my Dad worked to close in part of the house after work each day.  When I was able to come home, Dad gifted me with his old room that had not been damaged in the storm. He moved into a smaller room that was in the repaired part, not having carpet and painted walls didn't bother him. While it was nice to have a big room, I had noticed that I had a bit of pain in my foot between my toes moving my stuff in, and it got to be a bother fast. When I walked it pinched and caused pain to shoot all over my foot. My doctor found a place that had infection from a planters wort, and he opened it up that day to clean it up and relieve the pain. Before he finished he discovered two more spots on the bottom and treated those as well. The next week I had to get my wisdom teeth out, all four of them were still beneath the gum line. I had a lot of stitches and the whole process did not go well. Dad begged me to rest and stay in bed, but I only did for 3 days because I wanted to be in the homecoming parade one last time. That cost me more than I would have ever imagined.

I lost stitches too soon and caught dry socket. The infection that began in my face spread to all the places that had been healing from the week before. By the end of October, my face was swollen, I limped, and my house was getting very cold. I slept very little at night because of cold and pain. Even though Dad tried to insulate and close places up, he was working a huge load of hours. The living room of my house was laterally outside, with no roof over it. The furnace ran almost non stop, but it did little to really heat the house.


During this time in my life, I had a very close friendship with a classmate. We had become very close friends through a mutual friend, and we had decided to take French 3 together as a way to spend time hanging out. It was an independent study class and we were allowed to go to the library. The last day that I saw my friend alive, I had been back to school for the longest stretch that I had been since I had my teeth taken out.

 I was exhausted, and too embarrassed to admit that my life was really hard. Often when my friends had shared their troubles I took on the part of an empathetic mother. By this time in my life I never asked my dad much, because I already knew that doing something stupid could hurt the kids or I. doing anything that cost money meant not enough for food, so I never did alot of the teenage stuff kids do. I cared more about having food and staying warm. I cared about my friends the way an aunt would. I often gave adult like advice, much to the distress of my friends, because I often saw the value of their parents side in an argument. My friend stated many times that he was unhappy about life and that he wanted to die, his moods bounced because he abused antihistamines and he was often two every different people in a day. In this era you have to know that it was not uncommon for kids to say that everyday as a "cool statement" they wanted to die. Metalica and Mega Death had glamorized dying and the dark world as cool.  This last day though, I was sick, exhausted and I told my friend that I really didn't care what he did, I was not in the mood to hear it. (I was so sick I had not picked up on the statement he made that day as a dire warning, he said"I want to go home and hang myself") I had done all I could do just to stay awake at school. That evening during drama practice, a classmate named Jill came into the auditorium and gave us the awful news. My first instinct was to call my friend's mom, because two of her children would need her to drive them home. I hurried to go pick her up. I then went to another friends house, and sat with his aunt for a while after my friends had been settled. I cried then for an hour, and figured after that I needed to care for all of my friends from that moment on. The next few days I stayed with them in the library for grief counseling "to help the others". My Dad's sister helped me shop for a suit to wear and my friend Brain took me to the funeral as I was in no shape to drive even though I refused to cry. I also had endured the loss of two long time friends in the church that week, and the death of a local child. His death was caused by drunk driving by the same man who had raped me at 14. (another thing I had just tucked away) While I know the Holy Spirit had given me strength and care, I neglected to see that though all of this I was still a kid who needed care. Even though I had been helping my dad parent, I was not one. In my conquest to help everyone, I was neglecting myself in a serous way. I took in all the grief and suffering, I stuffed it away along with all I had endured, and I began to do silly little things to make it all stop hurting. Like drugs and alcohol. My friends that knew I wasn't a partier, (after all I lectured them about their parents being right) were confused. Why would I do that stuff? I then spent 3 years acting a bit crazy after graduation. I brawled with men to prove a point, I drank whiskey and chased it with beer, or even worse tequila. I went driving drunk, and even tried to teach my little sister how to drive a stick shift, while I was fully snockered.

 I moved to the city and lived with my mom, and had completely ditched most of my high school friends, except Brian, who was more like family. He also had a habit of ignoring me when I acted stupid, so he was not hard to be around because he wasn't mad at me. His mom is like a mother to me. She and her husband Mike, often tried to reason with me that I had better chances of getting my life together because I knew a better way. I just kept ignoring them, because I did not want to admit I needed to change. It all finally came to a screeching halt when I had began to date my husband. I had a mysterious two week flu, that lasted nine months. It took God literally grabbing me by the face and saying "LOOK AT ME, FOR JUST A MOMENT, LOOK AT ME."I had to be clean and sober right then because I was going to be a mother. When I had to stop drinking, I had time to see God in something as I had time sober to look. I could see in a sober state that I was not to blame for all that I had been though. I should have asked others for help, and not taken on the responsibility of bearing everyone else's pain alone. Three years of my life were now spent, and I could not get anything from them at the time. What I got from them later was the knowledge that God had been present, but if I could have brought myself to deal with the fact that I needed to forgive myself for something that I had no control over, I would have been saved alot of grief. I should have cried and mourned for my friend along with the entire school. I couldn't do that then. Every year though, I go back to Riverside to see his head stone and pull weeds and keep things picked up (eyes full of tears). I see him every time I go to church at my congregation in Caro, I see his senior photo. One of his family members is still a part of a grief group that meets there. I have to confront my sadness for just a second, but I know now that the Holy Spirit is in constant care of us both. So my message for all today is that even if we cannot forgive our selves, we need to give our cares to God who can. By giving Him the situation, the load becomes bearable, and we are not forcing ourselves to carry something that is too heavy. When life happens, rather than try to internalize and be strong, be human and share. My prayers for you all this October season..Josie

Women's Roles in Boy Scouts

                                 Community of Caring                    

              Why Women need to volunteer in Boy Scouts

     This evening I sat in a court of honor, a celebration of accomplishment and sharing in boy scouts, amazed by the things that our scouts were doing and seeing. I was moved by the camaraderie of the men, and even the few moments of tears as we said good bye in silence, to Brian Bender, our former treasurer. B.B. as his friends called him, was an active scout leader for many years, and had lost his life after a brief struggle with illness. It was amazing to see how the kids were supportive of each other, and happy for each other's accomplishments. I know that for many people the image of scout leaders has been stereotyped into these ultra woodsy people who go out camping with just a piece of fishing line and a jack knife. Visions of bug eating and roasting chunks of meat over buffalo chips come to mind, as the kids go foraging for leaves to use as toilet paper on these trips. Many people also have an incorrect idea that scouts is a " boys and men only" association. As many of you who have been in scouts know, this is not what scouting is about. It is in fact about giving young men a chance to get a well rounded education in many facets of life. While survival is certainly important, scouts learn more than just how to camp. They learn about community and respect. Scouts learn about finishing what they start through earning merit badges, and skills that it takes to be successful parents and workers as adults.Venture crews for older teens are co-ed for boys and girls alike, that offer opportunity to be involved in activities like sailing, mountain climbing, and civil war studies.

        It occurred to me this evening as I sat and listened that many women probably don't know that they have a definite place in the boy scouts program. I started my journey a year ago with Vassar troop when I signed my son up for the program. The plan was supposed to be that my husband would accompany my son to meetings and I would be a distant figure, baking cookies and driving kids sometimes. That lasted about three seconds. My husbands job is jam packed with work in the fall and winter. When I went to James' first meeting I was informed that the troop needed a chaplain. This for me was an excellent opportunity to minister in my own hometown in a way that would impact young lives. I then began attending committee meetings with two other women and I began to see the impact of active women in boy scouts. Many of the women in our scout committee had been serving for years, and they are mothers of eagle scouts. They have organized popcorn sales and fundraiser meals, and while those seem to be mostly traditional women's roles, these ladies have also done scout camps, board of reviews, merit badge counseling and many, many activities to help the boys improve their life skills. I personally have been out with the boys pounding the pavement to distribute food collection bags for the "Scouting For Food" program. This is not something that I would consider a "gendered job". I have also helped the boys place and remove several hundred flags at our cemetery to honor veterans, again this is something so important, that everyone is qualified to do.

      One reason women are needed, is the opportunity it provides for adult male leaders to display their model of respect and caring to women in leadership. I know personally that the male leaders in our troop give the highest respect to Linda, our troop secretary, along with myself and all of the moms who put hours into these activities. In a world where many video games and television teach disrespect to women, scouts teaches respect to all people. When this kind of teaching opportunity is presented in real life models, the models become habits that will last a life time. On many occasions where I see scouts at school, I often get very polite "hello Mrs. Gow" as a  greeting from the troop boys.  I know that they are aware of my presence in their troop, even though I usually only address them during prayers. On the flip side, boys also need to know that women care about their scouting experience. They need to know that being a strong male leader involves having support from females in many facets of life. Caring communities are then developed when the adults who lead them have had well rounded life experiences as youth.

           I know I'll never go camping with them in the wild, as I have sleep apnea, and cannot endure the loss of my electric lungs. I know that I cannot go for many of the outings, because my schedule doesn't allow, however what I can do is be present whenever activities do come up that I can attend. I focus on sharing my best smile with each boy, and support the direct involvement staff in whatever endeavor they need. I can also search out women who love to be outdoors, and inside with these kids. These kids need your time and experience! For the curious it should be noted that many of merit badges are not just "traditional manly" skills like shooting and fishing, but also medicine, cooking, and basket weaving. Indian lore, science studies of many kids, and several citizenship badges are available.

      Ladies, if you have had thoughts about scouting, or are looking for a community activity, boy scouts has a place for you! I urge you to contact your local Scout Master and sign up today! Questions, checkout www.scouting.org for more info..

Words of Encouragement.. Finding Hope in Commuinty

Many of you have already read this on facebook, but it is something worth repeating for this blog..

My friends,
I have been reading lately some posts that have a lot of “feeling down” stuck or hopeless themes in them. I would like to offer these words of encouragement; it is a long read so bear with me. Humanity has been subject to all kinds of situations since we came to live in community together. We know that throughout history our power to help or to harm each other has been great. There is ...

hope though for us, the answer is not easy, but it is in many ways very simple. It is the implementation that is the tough part.
I want you to back with me in time to Egypt in the days of the Pharaohs and great pyramids. Many of you know that the Hebrews, God’s people, had been enslaved and were forced to be laborers for the Pharaoh of Moses’ day. They were treated like machines and beaten with whips like cattle if they failed to do the work they were assigned. The Hebrews suffered terribly in many ways. God had chosen Moses and His brother Aaron to lead the people together, so they could be free. Moses was not a gifted speaker, studies suggest that he stuttered. Aaron, his brother however was a great speaker, but had trouble leading, and maintaining his faith at times. Together they went to Pharaoh to convey God’s desire for the freedom of his people. Ten times, maybe more or less, depending on how the story was told over generations, Pharaoh told Moses the people could leave, and then changed His mind. Can you imagine how the Hebrews must have felt? The elation at the thought of being free from slavery, and yet the pure let down and anger for Pharaoh’s broken promise when they were hauled back? How many of them were beginning to disbelieve when they were whipped and beaten even harder and the work load increased as Pharaoh poured out his anger on the people. Many of us can. It is easy to fall into despair when life patterns seem to lead to desperate situations…. Our jobs situation in the USA is bad (not enough, or too many hours, little pay ect.), our elected officials have made life in the USA very hard for poor and middle class. People who were once self-sufficient are not making ends meet. Many rich people feel powerless, as they are slaves to maintaining a lifestyle and reputation. We often feel beat down, with no end in sight.
Can you imagine how the people must have formed groups to try to preserve themselves? We know about these. When the going gets tough, the tough form a plan to not get caught in the aftermath. For the slaves it would have been ways to befriend labor bosses and Pharaoh’s overseers. For us it is often making cut throat alliances that often fall through when companies downsize. As kids people do the same thing to one another at times… you know about this. Remember the time you took the fall for someone else getting jelly on the couch? Despite all of our human quirks and tendencies to hurt each other, God has remained faithful and watchful over his people.
Going back to Egypt again, we know that the people were freed in a miraculous crossing of the river Jordan after the tenth plague was issued to Pharaoh and the Egyptians. The waters parted and Pharaoh’s army was destroyed when they sought to attack. God stayed with the Hebrew people in a powerful way for 40 years in the wilderness. He gave them food, and everything they needed to survive. God is still giving us what we need, but we cannot see it. Some of you may be asking why if God was so great and compassionate, why did the slaves spend 40 years in the dessert? The answer lays in learning.
The Hebrew people were programmed laborers who were used to taking orders. They had to spend that time in the wilderness to learn to be a community that could depend on one another, and on God. It was a time of learning that life must not be about self-preservation, but about the intricate life in community, with God at the front. They had to learn to trust that God would be there always, and how to treat each other in His midst. Moses struggled to teach the people that God was with them always. They would grow restless if not immediately gratified. (Sound familiar?) They complained about the food they were given, the provisions they had, and had forgotten they were free. Their freedom was the ultimate gift. How many of us have something we begged for, but no longer want it or care for it after we get it? Think about puppies and children, who really does the cleanup and housebreaking at week 2? Instant information and communication has made us forget that God doesn’t always instantly gratify, and that we need to consider the weight of what we are asking for.( Part of His mystery is that He often blesses us when we least expect it as well.) The people had to learn to give thanks, and be in conversation with Him in good times and bad to finally get to the promise land, and have it mean something.
So my dear friends if I can offer you anything, it is the hope that God has been with his people long before us. He is here now, and is to be after us. There is nothing that God cannot care for in your individual life, or your community, so long as you work together, and call on God often in all things. Remember that people in your community care for you as well as God, and they are ready to be a blessing to you, because God has blessed them. May your prayers be often, and your praises be the same….

The Cost of Apathy in Education

 

 

Why Not Caring Will Cost Us Everything

 

 

         Today I ventured back to the hallowed halls that were the place of my teens. As I looked back on the changes that were made, I see many changes to the building. Former locker spots are now large trophy cases. The cafeteria resembles a cafe. A large glass case houses a photo of special Vassar soldiers where the walls werre once bare. The face of one of my class mates looks back at me with pride through the glass case. I take a moment to thank him in my heart, and wish him well in heaven. While I reminisce about the dances I went to, parades I marched in, and times I waited in lunch lines for Vi's best homemade lunches, I also can tell by the atmosphere in the cafeteria, that only somethings are going well for the teachers being spoke to inside a meeting of sorts. A short applause has followed some one's closing remarks, but the chatter sounds afterwards is just not really what you would expect for a rally meeting to start a school year. It is too quiet, and very reserved. In a minute, I will know that those things I mentioned above that tug our hearts about school, may not be there for my children.

 

        As the teachers are dismissed, my children and I are stepping in to look at the lunch room set up. We bump into my son's 4th grade teacher. I can see he is in distress. I asked him if the meeting was a pep talk of sorts. He smiled, but told me it is just more bad news about the cuts and changes Vassar faces. He doesn't have to tell me how bad it is, I can see how upset and lost he is feeling. This year Vassar students are moving around because the funds and students are just not in the districts anymore. 6th grade is moving to the High school, and some T&N kids are moving over to Central. In a discussion with a teacher last year, I was told that the district numbers were down a total of over 800 students since I attended in the late eighties and mid nineties. While I understand that less students will mean less funding over all, when the funds are too little to even cover basic per student expenses we have to do something! This is not because of the school's poor management, the state is dropping funding everywhere. (Why thank you, Mr. Snyder). I know that my district has been cutting across the board to accommodate these cuts for along time. Teachers are making concessions and bus runs have been eliminated. Central has no PE teacher, regular Ed teachers take care of it, rather than have that time for planning. Is this what we want, stressed out run down teachers who feel hopeless?

 

         Where the cuts are really beginning to hurt, are in the class room. Some teachers have a student load of nearly 35 students in some grades. While this may not seem like a large number, I know first hand from leading church school  that a class of 25 can be overwhelming when some people need one on one time to be a sucessful learner. I also want to mention the many state mandates and tests that bench mark student performances such as NWEA, Dibbles and STAR all have differnt critera that have to be met. Vassar teachers take these tests seriously, and are worried about teaching all they can, without simply "cramming information" to make bench marks. I have listened to many teachers try to explain that they want things to be memorable, and not just remembered. I can't imagine being able to teach like that ,with so many "elephants in the room".  Those elephants are, people, cuts, and money. Apathetic people lead that herd, apathy from people that expect teachers to perform, but refuse to give them to tools to teach. Money is a highly necessary tool. The amazing thing is that teachers pay for their masters degrees, and get told they have nickles and dimes to prep future generations for their diploma.

 

 

           Let me ask a question, if we want our kids to have a good education, why are we not in support of our teachers who are flat out hurting? I spoke to a building Principal last year at the end of the school year, and asked how many parents are attending meetings regarding district changes, he said. "Not many, sometimes almost none." Instantly I felt terrible that my kid's teachers and staff that are on the battlefield alone. I am a parent who is a child of a life long school employee. I know that these people get involved with our kids, and impact them directly. Some students will change them forever, some of those teachers will change a student forever.  I also know that in my own busy life, I am making mistakes by not going to the meetings that the school board has, as well as public planning meetings. It is time to begin making plans to make time for our teachers, and educational partners. Even if I can't physically be present at a meeting, I need to meet with other like minded parents who are willing to go and be present.

 

            The teachers at Vassar need my help, and yours. Not standing with them is costing them all of the things that we cherished as students. All over the USA, band, art, choir, gym, home ec and enrichment programs are disappearing. Learning programs are not far behind. Vassar's story is not unique! I implore you to call our Vulcan Staff (or your home school), thank them for what they do, then ask them, "What can I do for you?.

 

                                               Yours in Community, Josie, Vassar Parent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Words of Community

We
Offer
Real
Deep
Sharing!

Our
Friends,

Can
Open
Minds &
Make
Understanding
New
Intellect
That's
YOU!

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The important part is that you believe it! Offer what you have, even if it seems little. Go deeper if you can. This means you care enough to ask how someone is, make a real memory with them. Introduce your friends to one another, if you are the common thread, there is already a "link" to friendship for them.  Educate those who are willing to learn, so that we may ease fears and sterotyping.. These are my words of community...

The Lost Art of Patriotism

Why We Need to Consider What We are Not Teaching..

Last Sunday, I stood with Linda a scout grandma, and BSA 201 troop secretary as we watched our troop place 300 flags at the cemetery. We were both in awe as the boys, most 11 and 12 place them at graves of soldiers. These boys were reverent, and trying hard to be like the "big boys" in the troop. I suddenly realised that I had never really spoken to my own son about flag care, and the way Americans value Old Glory.. I knew this when I saw my son set his flags aside to place one in a marker that was a bit off center. He was trying to set it straight and needed both hands. While I am a believer in being a world wide citizen, I also believe in being respectful of soldiers that give their lives for freedom in the USA. I have my freedom because of them, the gift they have given me has enabled me to establish an education, and a home. I know that patriotism is a double edged sword. If it is used to oppress people, or harm the rights we so firmly believe in, then I won't support it. Adolph Hitler used that kind of "Blind Patriotism" to nearly extinguish a nation of innocent people. Patriotism that welcomes home soldiers who fight for others safety, independence and freedom, I welcome..... Patriotism that asks us to believe in the "American Dream".. having choices in education, home ownership, and capitalism, freedom of religion (not just Christianity).. that I believe in... I realize that many of our kids have NO IDEA what this means... or why it even matters...

When I was young, it seemed that an American solider was given much more respect. People would shake hands with them, give a seat up, or smile with gratitude. Parades had a slew of soldiers from many eras. Flags flew at almost every business. Now it is viewed as fanatical to have too many stars and stripes  decorations. Sharing  too much about the war is a hush-hush thing for the men and women who come home. Many soldiers are treated as second class citizens after they come home (see my PT SD blog from April, and soldier testimonies there in).The care that our military receives after war is often poor, unregulated and many soldiers have a hard time getting jobs. Giving honor to our military should not take death, or a disfiguring wound (mental or physical) for them to have the honor they deserve. The service they give should be recognized, simply because they have done for us by serving.  When the chips are all laid out we all talk about this kind of stuff, but no one really does anything about it. I personally have no massive solution, but I am putting this out there to try to invoke attention to some one who might be able to fix this. For my own family I am trying to at least let my kids know why soldiers are important, and what it means to be an American, and a citizen in the world. I have friends in many nations who crave the freedom we have here.  I can't mail gifts to friends in some nations becasue thier mail gets opened, and they get taxed to receive it. Others I cannot visit because being a woman puts me in immediate danger. I have the right to dress and speak as I please. I can be openly critical of the the goverment if they anger me. I can elect officials if I so choose. This is not so for many of my counter parts in the world wide community....

 In coming to care about life, we need to look at the way we value freedom. We also need to think about what we are teaching our kids about respect and value for American soldiers, and America. It is easy to preach our beliefs about freedom, but we also have to teach our kids about the cost of how we obtained it. They need to know that the respect we give to others who serve us should be shown with gratitude, and reverence. Patriotism should never be blind or without meaning, it should be given out of knowledge of what someone has done for us. It should not be reserved for a particular branch of the armed forces. I know people from all faiths, races, and branches, that serve America in uniform. They have all sacrificed equally. With equal regard we should give them our thanks..







Phillip's Wisdom, Why You are Making a Diffrence

"The Office of Angel"

Today in a country funeral home, I heard a declaration that astounded me. My friend Phillip, who was delivering a message of strength, at his mother's funeral, spoke of her calling to the office of angel. While he was speaking in celestial terms, I realised that there was tremendous earthly power of the statement he made.

We live in a world that tends to be centered on comparisons. Neighbor Joe has a bigger truck, I have a bigger fence. Neighbor Jill bakes cookies for the bake sale, I'll bake a 3 tiered chocolate dream cake complete with mousse and chocolate shavings. I have to, so my cake will make more money. More is important! Right? Actually our comparisons tear away at our generoisty. It reminds us of what we want to do, rather than what we can do.

My best friend and I today were discussing Angelic generosity, after Phillip's message. The power to give when there is need as response to God's love that we were given first. All too often we obsess about how much to give. rather than use the idea that giving with gladness is what matters. I suddenly realised that we are all called to the office of Angel. The office of caring for one another though money, time and talent. The office of Angel gives time that is not restrained, fills needs that are life giving, and that builds the kingdom.

In this sense of giving money I am trying to convey, is not in tithing of percentages. I am not talking about faith promises or duties we do.While those things are essential, I am talking about those moments where there is a need and we fill it.  In my own life I have been one to put in a lot of time working for the Lord. Money has been scarce, often. People have given me and my family blessings beyond words. I have often clung to the hem of Jesus' robe to feed my family, pay my bills, and keep a home. God has given all of that plus more... someone has paid my way to travel for the church, attend camps, buy food. The list is very long.. It should be known that someone who gives $5.00 out of love, has shared equally, as someone who writes a check for $1,000,000.00. The numbers do not make something more or less Angelic, but rather the heart of the one who gives..

 The time and the money parts have equal value. My church has helped my family put in a roof, and cover serious emergencies. As time has gone by, we have been able to somewhat stabilize and give regularly, but also give spontaneously back to others along with regular giving. It is a wonderful feeling, but I still depend on the generosity of others for much.. It is an "ebb and flow"...

For the sense of  time, I speak about time that is freely given. This time doesn't always mean we are working on something significant, or even physically moving. It is time often spent listening. I have a friend Sandy, that calls me from my congregation. She calls and goes over carefully what things I share with her as concerns. She also asks about our joys. She genuinely cares. I admit I and very selfish with my time at times. I have to get things done, and I have not learned to give an "intentional listening ear" at times as I am fairly bursting with energy. But then again, it can be time spent being a doer. It can be time spent cooking, cleaning, an aiding those in need. It is a different thing for each who desires to offer what they can.. My friend I spoke of earlier, and his wife have been Angelic ministers many times over. It gives them joy to help as often as they can. They also roll up thier sleeves and get busy when the need is present. These blessings are equal in worth.

Everyone has the power to serve in Angelic ministry. It is the power that we are granted as servants, because we believe in Jesus Christ. It is the power of the Holy Spirit our Comforter that guides us in this giving. That power though, doesn't know selfish comparisons. I doesn't know giving out of guilt or self gain. That power only knows blessing. So as we come to care about our giving. As we come to care about our time, I pray that you answer the call to the office of Angel..  that you might discover the power of blessings gladly shared.



Soldier Stories We Can't Ignore..PTSD and Other Issues

Who They Are….

Although I am an agent of peace, I am a realist. Peace comes from the acceptance of others, and the willingness to live in harmony with one another. We know that right now we are along ways away from Peace on a worldwide level. As long as mankind must have power, wealth and glory for himself, we are in desperate need of soldiers. They are men and women who are willing to put their lives on the line, to make our land safe. At times they must go to other lands to protect us, and those who live in those nations. Soldiers are not simple minded war machines trained to kill. They are people who desire to protect their country. They are neighbors, friends, and family who have dedicated themselves to the service of the nation. They are also some of the most neglected people in the nation, when we speak of post war services.

Testimony of Injustice….

Today I sat in a room listening to two veteran soldiers, from different positions in the military. They told about where they served, what they saw, and the horrible way they were treated by our government when they came home. Both of them shared that they had a terrible time with funding promised to them for college. They also shared that many younger vets give up trying to pursue benefits, because a simple request for promised help can take years to fulfill. Paper work gets “lost” that is needed for benefits. Some of these benefits require that the solider must have an original sign up paper to receive promised benefits. Yet when that paper, which is entrusted to the military paper work office is gone, the result is “ too bad for you”.. EXCUSE ME??????? I wonder if it would have been “too bad” for us, if these men and women had no dedication to their homeland, and we were invaded and just had to take it…

The Heart Shaker…

One element of this discussion though, called me in my mind straight to my knees in prayer and sadness. It called me to write this as soon as I got home, that is the neglect of soldiers with PTSD, or post-traumatic stress disorder.  Post-traumatic stress disorder is an effect that takes place after major human trauma. This is either to the mind, body, or human environment. There are many symptoms, and they are manifested in different ways, depending on the person affected by it. Both of these men shared that symptoms began with in a few weeks of returning home.

When the simple joy of being home wears off………..

 They were so focused on getting back to family and friends that they could not really process the truth of their situation. That is, that they were both damaged by the horrible things they had seen, but had to bottle. Not all of them are traditional circumstances that cause this condition. One soldier said he saw a friend drown to death, because he was stuck in his gear. A single incident of death at home like this, would be the cause for community awareness. Friends and family of the victim would be cling together and many would get the attention they need to heal from clergy and community members. Yet after this funeral, no one was able to really speak about it They were still in the business of staying alive..  

“When in the war, you dream about being home, when at home you dream about being in the war”… (Words of the Sargent)  Both men shared that good men and women they knew, fell to drinking and drugs to cope with the pain and suffering of PTSD. They shared about the pain of having to sleep away from their own wives and loved ones until they could stop kicking and jerking in their sleep. This is at a time, when we would want to hold our spouse and comfort them. However in a dream one cannot tell the difference in a spouse’s loving touch, and the enemy..

The Dilemma of Telling  Truth, or even Knowing You Have PTSD….

So many of you are asking why don’t Military PTSD sufferers just get help??? Well the first problem is recognition of the problem itself.  When you are living it, it is hard to know that is what is happening to you. Many have to be told they have it. Second these men and women are taught to be tough, and weakness is not permitted. Telling someone you are having a problem, will move you down in the ranks of “rough and tough”. Only 2 questions are asked of returning soldiers.  They are very bland, and ask if you feel suicidal, or bad about anything… The Military had forgot to install the   “check this box” for witnessing death, pain, destruction. Being shot at, nearly blown up, and attacked at any time of day or night. Yet if you get a diagnosis of PTSD, the probability of getting a decent job is ruined by admission of the problems that result from pain, death, and destruction, so you pay for your honesty and your self-esteem takes a dive on the process.

Final Thoughts…

There are classes in place for soldiers to take when they get home. However for people who have been “family and friends” starved for months, the ability to focus on them is nil. We are foolish to believe that a few hours of training can really help a human being who has been shaken to the core of their very being. These people need a lot of counseling, and mentoring back into the civilian world. They need a partnership with their community, to give them a chance to get a good job. Today as you examine your part in Coming to Care about Soldiers, ask yourself if you can be an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on. Ask yourself if you could give your time to help a soldier recover in some way?. If these are not your skills, then please be a voice, make yourself known to the government through your local State rep and Senator, and tell them that Veteran Care has to be improved for the sake of those who protect us, and those who for that service of protection have suffered.

Stop Human Trafficking Resources

Please take note of this number, 1-888-3737-888! This number is the national Human Trafficking Hot line, and has interpreters for 170 languages. The NHTRC, has a web site that has free printable fliers in many languages. www. PolarisProject.org. Please post these in grocery stores, and other public places where people can see them. Human trafficking is a huge problem. It carries a hefty profit of 32 Billion dollars a year. There is no exceptions to race, color, gender, or religion that is exempt from this problem. Please do your part and help those who are stuck in modern slavery find a way out!

The Dangers of "Cherry Picking" in Scripture

The Damage We Do With Scripture Misuse


I admit I am no great scholar. I admit I am no great professor. What I am is angry with the way people are using my Maker's words to hurt someone else.

Have you ever seen many of the new facebook names that people are using? Some are really neat like "Jesus Daily" and "Love to Laugh" They are used to make humanity feel better about themseleves. How ever there are some that I have had it with. I have also had it with people sharing horrible messages from them that they "think" are full of wit and wisdom, from Scripture. Today I stand by less is more. I saw a page with the title "God"as the page name. It was making fun of Tim Tebow, and his taking a knee. Someone was actually using scripture to justify making fun of him for his expression of faith, and calling themselves "God"..

A word to the witty and wise. READ YOUR SCRIPTURES IN CONTEXT. As people attempt to pull one or two phrases out of a single line of text, they show just how narrow what they are saying is. I have NO respect for this kind of preaching and teaching. The Bible is not one book. It is in fact many books. It is not written in chronological order, nor is it complete. It is in fact a series of texts designed to provide the basis of the life of the One whom we should follow. The KJV was put together by the Bishops of Canterbury in 1511 to give some cohesion to the teaching of sacred study. What do you suppose people did before that time? Or was 1511 a magical year? If we use any of the words to oppress, mock, or bring ourselves above another, we have gone against what the Bible is trying to teach. I can use the words in the Gospel to prove anything I want, but I am a fool if I don't use the words in proper context. I also need to use historical facts, reason, prayer, and a slew of lenses to be sure that what I am saying is proper.

James, the brother of Christ was wise. You see he suffered from initial jealousy at having to pick up the slack that was left in his older brother's absence. James had to take care of the family, worry about Mary, for we know that Joseph has passed or was too ill sometime before, or Jesus would not have been the male head of household guest at Cana.. (no Jesus was not an only child either).. James was not a believer at first. So when he speaks, he does so out of learning through hard knocks of his own mistakes, and having front row seats to his brother's ministry.

He left some advice that we need to remember From James, Brother of Jesus
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Live Well, Live Wisely

^13-16"Do you want to be counted wise, to build a reputation for wisdom? Here's what you do: Live well, live wisely, live humbly. It's the way you live, not the way you talk, that counts. Mean-spirited ambition isn't wisdom. Boasting that you are wise isn't wisdom. Twisting the truth to make yourselves sound wise isn't wisdom. It's the furthest thing from wisdom—it's animal cunning, devilish conniving. Whenever you're trying to look better than others or get the better of others, things fall apart and everyone ends up at the others' throats.
^17-18Real wisdom, God's wisdom, begins with a holy life and is characterized by getting along with others. It is gentle and reasonable, overflowing with mercy and blessings, not hot one day and cold the next, not two-faced. You can develop a healthy, robust community that lives right with God and enjoy its results only if you do the hard work of getting along with each other, treating each other with dignity and honor. " - The Message
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In closing,

Please my friends, if you see a scripture used to make a point, read before it, and read after it. Compare versions, and read various definitions when a scholar's Bible tell you there are multiple meanings. Ask yourself, what was it first saying written in Greek, Hebrew, Aramaic, or some other language from days of old? As we already know, words and their meanings change. The only thing in this life that will not, is the love of God for his human family. Before we speak on His behalf, we had better know what it is we are saying, or else we risk the credibility we have as Christians. We also are sinning ourselves, for assuming our selves level with God. We were commanded to Love him, and our neighbor, not use Him to gain our own purpose, or power over our neighbor. So now Mr. Tebow, please keep taking your knee, and thank God for the talent He has given you. Someday you will be too old to take that knee, but by then I am sure your witness will be honed in words enough, your knees won't matter..

Why I Need Them.

Why God Gave Me Peter and Shawn.

Right now I am sitting dazed about a post I read from a Christian man. It was a description of abuse that he and his partner suffered recently at the hands of a stranger. My heart breaks for him, that he and his partner to have to endure the kind of behavior people subject him too. His response, " I have more work to do". I am humbled by this. My response is an age old one. That of fury. I know a lot about my friends situation, not because we live close together, or even grew up together, but because for most of my life I have been bullied for my size. I know what it feels like to be hated for being in my own skins. Being a plus size person many people assume that I am lazy, or that I eat too much. The truth is I walk several miles each week at the rail trail, I also watch my calorie intake, and I don't have any vices. I own two businesses and work part time. I got to college full time and am keeping a 4.0 grade average. This busy doesn't even include being a wife, a mother, and a minister. I do all of these full time, and for those who wonder about ministry, no I am not paid, but everywhere I look, every thing I see, begs for the Love of God, and the Prince of  Peace. I cannot turn my mind off from the work of the church. I have tried...

What I do have is IBD, the beginning stages of Chron's disease. I have to periodicaly take steroids to keep from having my insides removed. I also take a medication for my heart that slows my metabolism down to a crawl. These things make my fantasy of being a size 10 a dream. It also makes living life very hard. People say things that are cruel like " You have such a pretty face" to me those are the words of a coward who won't say I don't like the rest of you. I also love when people casually suggest I join a gym or a fat management club of sorts as if I don't know that my body is large..

Back to my friend.. You see he is more courageous than I because I often run to my anger, rather than to the Lord. I try to work away the pain I feel, when at times I should be praying it away. A man much like my friend came to me at a time in my life when I was not sure of my purpose twenty years ago, I wondered if I could ever be loved by a man, as I was. This man took me to the movies, swimming and out for what ever. he showered me with affection and gave ferocious answers to women who were catty about him spending time with me.  Yet he would never ever ask for my hand. That was not how God created him. He was destined for the man who holds his heart. The ministry and power of his presence in my life saved me from the destruction of myself. He gave me a reason to look around this world, and see myself how God sees me. I love him to this day still, and thank God for him. My friend so far away that posted, I imagine that his ministry in the church in some way gave another person the kind of feeling. Maybe he led them to the waters of baptism, maybe he prayed for their health. Maybe he rescued some other over weight person from the depression and devastation of being alone. I don't know. What I do know is this, I will continue to look up to him for strength. I will pray for him daily that his life be blessed, because no matter what no person, no matter who they are should ever be made to suffer for who they simply are...

My Country's Father

More than Meeting and Greeting!

Coming to Care About Who and Where...

Today I took my son to his physical therapy appointment. The normally hustling and bustling office was silent. Most of the clients for the day had called in sick.. I greeted Gurcan as usual, in Turkish his native language. When James arrives he must have heat packs to warm his muscles for stretches, so the first ten minutes he is confined to a bed. Gurcan is propped on a large stretching station waiting. I told him that I had a test today about his native homeland, and the realm near by known as "NASWA", or North Africa and Western Asia. He asked me what I knew about Turkey. I told him that I knew that "Ataturk" was Mustafa Kamel. He told me about Kamel was named by another man for his wisdom, and how the people wanted him to be a king, but Kamel wanted only to be a citizen. He also told me how they gave women voting rights early on, and that people had to have last names when the new government came about. For many years people were simply the son or daughter of the parent. Much like the days of Biblical writing when Jesus was "Jesus, son of Joseph" Gurcan is nice to begin with, but as he was speaking his eyes were telling me he was somewhere in history, and that this is very important to him that I understand his history.

At this point James tells him that his back is too warm under the heat packs. Gurcan tells him : "Oh my, I guess you are cooked!" and begins his deep muscle kneading. I asked him about how he came to America. He tells me that he came with another friend, 20 years ago. He and his wife both. His friend did not stay. The more he shares, the more I can sense the Holy Spirit building, I cannot explain, but there is some kind of deeper understanding happening in this moment. I can tell that many people don't ask him, about "him." How often people assume that all medical professionals are machines. There to do a job, but not to know in person. I was so happy to have this little piece of Turkish history, and a connection to someone who really loves his patients. This is obvious to me when a little boy that he has seen since babydom, comes bursting in an asks how he is. With smiling eyes, Gurcan tells me how much he cares about that kid, and how long he has watched him grow. When his mom, a friend of mine from school days comes to get him, you can see he is sad to leave his "grown up friend".

When James first saw Gurcan two years ago, his appointments were in the morning. So I simply learned to say "Gunydan" or good morning, and "Nasilsinih" (these are not proper spellings of the exact words) Nasilsinih means "how are you?" Now James appointments are in the afternoon, and he is older so he also is learning to greet. After Gurcan shared with me his testimony, I can see something that is nearly bursting in the air. It is the crackle of knowing how important someone has just become to another. I told Gurcan about my gift of languages, and that I would stand on my head to learn Turkish. He offered me books and anything I needed to really learn this language.

I imagine that this is the foot path to peace. Two people as different as can be have a connection. I am a very generously built white female who is maybe 15 years younger than this very tall "fit as a fiddle" man who is tan always..and much wiser than I. We both know something about each other that matters, I know he will teach, he knows I will learn. These are the things that build blocks in the kingdom. I will never for get the smile on his face when he told me "My Country's Father...."

World Conference: Why you are needed!

I am thinking today about the Birthday of the church. We are in preparation as well for the 2013 World Conference. As I write this, I am looking at the picture taken of myself, and a man I called "Uncle Richard".  Richard was an organist, a piano player, and a dedicated usher to the World Conferences. He worked faithfully during the day to serve the high priest quorum that met at Stone Church. He gave up his evenings to organize the offerings for the upper level of the conference chambers.  For 22 days he would go and be of service in April for the church. The last two conferences I was his assistant, it is not an easy job finding so many people to pass out bulletins, or to carry offering baskets... I'll tell you why later.

I met Richard when I was a teenager. He was engaged to my Grandma's best friend, Wilma. One day when he was playing the piano, I asked him if we could play some hymns together, since I played flute. So many times I asked him about getting a photo with him for my scrap book. We did many duets, and many conferences together. Richard always said the time wasn't right. Before the last conference however, Richard had been battling cancer. I knew he wasn't feeling well, and he told me he had put off some treatment so he would be well enough to serve one last time. I teased Richard, and told him he couldn't leave me to deal with grandma and Wilma alone. (Even though they are without a doubt two of my favorite people.). It didn't matter. Richard told me the last day that he wanted a photo. Sister Kim took our picture, inside I was crying.

Richard became my uncle at conference in 2000. I was pregnant with my daughter Dorothy, and very uncomfortable. I sat with Richard upstairs waiting for the services to end, so that I could prop my swollen feet. I speak a few languages, and some of the people from Tahiti were asking how we knew each other. My French at the time was very rusty, and it was easier to say he was my uncle, instead of a close friend of the family, because I could not explain. A huge hole in my heart aches thinking about how Uncle Richard did so much, and next time he won't be there to sit with..

People like Richard, are needed to make our conferences a success. Richard's main qualification wasn't some degree in ushering or event planning. It came from his willingness to help his wife serve the church. She is the head usher for all of the Auditorium, where our meetings are held. She has to organize seating,  keep track of  offering baskets, seating charts, badges, bulletins and materials in many languages. The list is very long, and not even complete. For what ever reason in the minds of people they place a certain ranking on what jobs people do. For example, people seem to think that a certain priesthood office, or having one at all, gives someone more importance over another. In our faith community everyone is important, everyone has a part!. Often times when I would ask people about ushering for a section, and people would reply, "I am not a deacon, or I don't live in Independence". They had no idea that this kind of job was open to all who were able. The qualifications to usher at conference are two things, willing hands, loving hearts! For some who may think that being an Apostle or a member of the First Presidency raises them up in some way, I want you to know that Steve Veazy waited on my sister hand and foot at reunion two years ago. He mopped up spills from her five children and his wife Cathi helped carry dishes to the dish room, for many meals. Sister Stassi my Apostle, has sat in the kitchen at camp chopping onions, and celery.. she makes cornbread stuffing that is fantastic! Yes, I just said an Apostle did kitchen duty. There is no job in the church that they are above doing.  Seventys Bob Borkowski, and John Wight chopped soup veggies and laughed and smiled, while I sang goofy songs to them..They are people who may have a tremendous amount of responsibility, but they are still people.  We have to get it out of our minds that we have nothing to offer at Conferences or church events of any kind. The Temple, and Auditorium are every one's home congregation.In Community of Christ, we are a fence row community, and not a ladder. When things need to be done, if any stake in the fence is broken, the whole church feels that break. Although we have a ways of handling some processes to keep order, the work of our hands holds no ranks, or stars.

I assist Wilma because I can speak a few words in many languages now. I can't really serve in translations because my skills don't allow for it, how ever I can give simple directions, give the time, and help people find their way places in some of the languages used at Conference. Sometimes I walk five or six miles a day just to find some one or something! You too can do these things! There are so many things that need to be done that only require the willing. Teens can serve in the Youth Ministry division. Adults can work at lost and found, and as badge check helpers for business sessions.

Please. as you plan for your next year, consider the possibilty that you have a gift the conference needs! If you want to know what to do, call the Auditorium, and ask if there are positions to be filled, and know that at World Conference 2013, YOU ARE NEEDED!

Gentle Dental, Compassionate Care

This blog is dedicated to my new Dentist, Dr Misko of Caro Mi, and Dr Sohl of the Clevaland Clinic and St Mary's of Saginaw. I have been in many situations where I needed alot of medical care. I have given 10 teeth to the "tooth fairy" as an adult, and had 4 surgeries, 2 were over 3 months of a 7 month sickness. There is a certian amount of compassion involved in good medical care. Bedside manner and compassion are not always the same. My son was very sick at 2 years old, his doctor was very frank and did not comment much, however he missed a flight to Florida to make sure my son was admitted into a hospital. That was alot of compassion.. Dr Misko has the best of both worlds. I have noticed that even in the heat of an uncopperative tooth pulling, he always calls his assistants by their names. He never barks, and he does this while speaking to his patients in a very soft spoken manner.

I had a very deeply rooted incisor, that should have been a quick pull, take ten minutes. Dr. Misko kept assuring me that he was so sorry, and he always called his assistant Bree, by her name, before he asked for anything. He asked me if I needed any more numbing shots. He was worried I didn't have enough valium in my system to keep me calm. It was wearing off, but his constant assurance made it easy to just stay put. Did I mention that after being sick for so long, I have a huge fear of needles?

During my stay at Covenant health care in Saginaw, I had a doctor who was horrificly rude, he woke me up and demanded to know why I has asked for him to see me. I told him that I was told by my surgeon at another hospital, to ask for him if I had to be admitted in Saginaw. Mr. Proctologist yelled at me, and made my cry. He asked why I thought he could see me there, and not at his office. I threw my pillow at him and told him not to bother. The doctor on the floor that day came by to see why I was angry. I told her about what happened. She has plenty of great bedside manner, but was almost mocking me with her drip and drivel, speaking to me like I was a child. It made me even angrier. I didn't need a pacifier, I needed a specialist to help me quit bleeding, and get me out of bed, before I lost my mind. Then I met Dr Sohl. He is much like Dr. Misko. He was worried about my pain, and he was compassionate, but not "drippy". He spoke to his nurses with admiration. Even though I was three months healing from the operation he did, I felt that he really cared about my situation each time I went to his office. I just want to say that I appreciate doctors who care about people and thier patients, and a good doctor or dentist is priceless..

Lingua Franca

As a child, my first experiences with languages began at an event called World Conference. World Conference is the gathering of my faith community that brings people from all over the world to gather in worship and business meetings, to decide church policy. Many events take place at each Conference, so may that you cannot do everything there is to do at each conference. Many events over lap each other, so each conference is a new experience. One of the most joyful things about the conference, is the many people from far and wide who gather. People from Africa, Asia, South America, Canada and Mexico, Middle America, Australia, the Islands of the Pacific, and Europe, are present. They share their culture, worship expressions, and love.

The church has many people who volunteer their time and energy to provide materials in many languages, so that everyone has an opportunity to participate with equal understanding. Many of our hymns are printed in multiple languages. I cannot describe the feeling of five thousand people singing in nine or more languages at once. It is as if the heavens open, and the Angels have joined in. My thoughts today about conference are in preparation for the next conference. It is in April of 2013. Through facebook I have "cyber met" many of my church's members since the last conference. There are so many old friends I long to see, and so many new ones I wish to meet.

Part of my spiritual gifts lie in the ability to speak languages with out an accent very quickly. In a few hours I can learn to "meet and greet" if I listen long enough. I am thankful for this, because it helps me to share about the love of God, and his Son. Being able to greet someone, and acknowledge them, is the very first way that we can provide ministry to those we meet. At this time I can greet in French, Spanish, Portuguese, Afrikaans, Swahili, Turkish,Italian Japanese, Chinese, Tagalog, German, Dutch, Norwegian, Indonesian and Tahitian. I can speak French, and Indonesian fairly well for traveling, but not fluently. I am learning Spanish and Portuguese gradually. I hope that eventually my feet will be upon the sands of the countries that these languages come from. This fall I am going to Brazil with some of my church family from Michigan. It seems so far away, yet so unbelievably close. I know that one thing is for sure, the common language, or lingua franca, is love. We care for each other and pray for each other often. Just by smiling and acknowledging each other we have left the door open for growth and understanding. All people can seem to understand feelings of warmth and love.

There are two people whom I have come to look up to as worldwide mentors. Joey and Art. They to have the the gift of greeting and languages. Theirs is much more tuned and proficient, but they use those gifts in humility and with grace. I first met Joey when I was fourteen. His mother and father hosted me for two conferences. The second conference I stayed with his family followed the tragic suicide of my dear friend. Joey's laughs and smiles helped me to get back to my language study in French I had neglected in grief. The young man who died was my language partner at school. We were in independent studies. Art is a Seventy, or a minister who shares about the peace of Jesus. He also recognises giftedness in others and helps congregations in South America to plant and grow. He is always sharing about his travels, and bringing us one step closer to each other through his posts of facebook. I am thankful everyday that Art and Joey are so talented.

So today I challenge you to do something new, maybe even difficult. Find a program that teaches languages. Don't try to be fluent over night. Instead, learn hello, and maybe good bye. One word, one day at a time, opens us up to greater possibility in sharing the lingua franca we live for, LOVE.