Ummm...I Don't Get It

 Tell a joke, I might get it right away or a few minutes later, I have been known to ask for an explanation occasionally.  I wish slow reaction to punchlines was the only time it takes me longer to process things but alas, it's not. My husband tells me I think too much and perhaps he's right, over thinking can lead to more than just a headache. Many times I end up with more questions than answers.

There's a great online magazine called "Mentoring Moments for Christian Women" and every once in a while I have something posted there. I tell you that to tell you this, when the 2011 theme and topics were announced (Grace-full living) I didn't get it. Immediately, I began to evaluate my understanding of the word grace.

I visited Amazon.com and ordered a couple of books by well known theologians. I Googled.  I prayed. I performed a Bible search of the word grace and it's New Testament usage. I looked up the Greek word "charis" and it's various definitions. Not surprisingly, these things all just caused more questions for me. My research did prepare me for the lesson ,I believe, God had in store. A lesson geared just for me and my need of examples and illustrations.

I have several houseplants, one of which is called crown of thorns. This particular plant has been inside and thrived for more than 4 years but suddenly the leaves began to wither and yellow and then started  dropping fast. I resigned myself to the loss of yet another plant. (I've recently lost two palms.) When the crown of thorns got down to two leaves total on the four shoots and even they were yellowing, I knew I had to let it go. As I picked up the terracotta pot to trash the plant, I noticed the tips of each shoot had become a bright  green, it would seem the pronouncement of it's death may have been a bit hasty. I expect that within a matter of months, my plant's tiny red blooms will be abundant and sharing their beauty with the Cagle household once more.

Crazy as it sounds that's when it clicked. God's grace is his unmerited attention, favor and gift. I have no doubt that nothing escapes His attention or that He can use a houseplant to teach because that is exactly what He did for me. He took notice of my little plant and allowed it to live. Although the crown of thorns appeared to me to be beyond hope, God took notice and gave it new life in kind of the same way he does for humanity. He offers a relationship with His one and only son that will bring us from certain death to the certainty of an eternal life. Salvation is a gift of grace and every blessing (spiritual or material) of my life is unmerited.  I love that my God is willing to dumb things down just for me sometimes.

GLAMPEROUS

I have sent two of my four children (Ben is not really a child anymore but I couldn't leave him out) to camp this summer break, which officially began two weeks ago. In addition, three have gone to Vacation Bible School at our home church and the two girls are going to "camp" in a couple of weeks in Daytona.

I want to go to summer camp. I want to go somewhere, where the food is prepared for me and the day's activities are all lined up. Honestly,  I think I am of an age to truly appreciate a macrame plant hanger. Although I don't want to actually rough it. I am more a glamper than a camper. I need indoor plumbing and a bug/snake/bear free environment. Also, a spa and shopping fit well into my plan.

  I want to be with a group of peers with discussions of politics, religion, fashion, books, maybe even sports (well, good looking athletes might be interesting). The only topic off the table would be kids. You know I enjoy talking about my kids but discussing them on this trip would have the potential to:

           1. Make me feel that I have (s)mothered them by over-protecting

           2. Make me feel that I have failed by not protecting them enough

           3. Make me feel guilty that I have left them behind to do something on my own.

           4. Make me feel guilty that I wanted to leave them behind

       
I think the words "mother" and "guilt" are synonymous.
 

Seriously, don't you think it's a plausible business idea. It could be the perfect Mother's Day gift. I am thinking of calling it  Camp Mamaneedsabreakee.

Tabatha and the Tornado

Well, a lot has happened since last I wrote.  My home state of Alabama was ravaged by a slew of  tornadoes, among the towns most devastated was my (kind of, sort of) hometown of Hackleburg.  I grew up in the boonies,  not really in any town but smack dab in between both Hamilton and Hackleburg. I went to school in Hackleburg through second grade and then switched to Hamilton, buses from each of the schools passed our house.
My mother owned a beauty shop in H'burg, and my dad was police chief there for more than twenty-five years. Although. I've been gone from there for more years now than I care to admit, the news of it's destruction was devastating and would have been even if my sister had not been so tragically affected. She lost her beloved fiance, Chris Dunn, and her home as well as every item in it. The house was torn from it's foundation, plumbing and all.

The first hours after the hit were spent in "real time" texting my sister. I cannot explain how compelled I felt to contact her right at 4pm, my time, 3 hers other than it had to be a God thing. This is exactly the time the event was transpiring. I first asked "you still okay"- Tabatha's response was "for now-but it's bad, bad, bad".  We then went back and forth a few times, me just confirming she was still there. Then at 4:15 I got one that said "one just hit my house and Chris was in it".  What do you say to that? I had no response. Just "you'll be okay". Our parents, who live about six miles from her, had yet to be heard from. I finally got through to Mother, who informed me Daddy had gone to look for Tab. I was able to tell mother that Tabatha was alive and the relief as she cried out was heart wrenching. Please know that Tabatha's phone was only able to text at this point and Mother doesn't do that (although she is adding the feature to her plan now and intends to learn). My last contact with Tabatha was at 4:39 when she said that she was "going to look for help". Thus began the hour and a half when we lost contact with her.  When we finally were able to communicate again, she disclosed her location and my brother-in-law who had driven  from an hour away to check on the family was able to reach her and get her to Daddy, who took her home. A few days later, I learned that Daddy had made it all the way out to Tab's house and thought that she most certainly had been killed, he sat there a while and then drove home to tell our mother.  Mother was able to assure him that she indeed did survive. What a blessing that she was already aware of it. Another thing I learned from Tabatha, was that although she had received several texts while we were communicating, I was the only one she could text back, and I thank God for that tiny miracle too.

Although our relief at her safety was great, the magnitude of the devastation only became apparent in the hours and days following as the death toll rose and Chris was counted among it. He was not the only fatality on Gunnin Drive. Both couples in the houses on either side of Tabatha and Chris were killed, as well as the couple across the street who were pulled from the "safety" of their basement by the EF-5 tornado. Tab is in fact the ONLY survivor from among the residents of Gunnin, this brings us, her family, great joy and while thankful for her life and safety too, Tabatha is dealing with "survivor's guilt".

For the three days following the tornadoes, I watched the details unfold on the internet especially on facebook where I saw and heard from people who were in the midst of Hackleburg. I was consumed. I spent three days clicking, searching and reading any snippet of information I could find. The town was declared 75% destroyed by the Red Cross Disaster Response Team. 31 of 32 businesses in the town were destroyed or heavily damaged including the Wrangler Distribution Center , the town of 1500's main employer, the only grocery store(Piggly Wiggly), the only general merchandise retailer(Dollar General) and both the elementary and high school.

When we went in for the funeral, the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach only intensified at seeing it for myself. Completely gone. Trees, buildings, families..the utter carnage was just overwhelming and the thing is it didn't even happen to me. I can't begin to understand how those actually living it feel.

My sister is still reeling and doesn't look to stop any time soon.  She lost every material thing she owned and the man she loved,  she thought both her pets (Bear, the dog and Boo, the cat) to be dead as well.  The body of her cat was found but her dog, well he's a different story. In a scene seemingly made for t.v.,  Tabatha stepped on a nail the day after the storm while she was going through debris in the area surrounding where her house once stood. Because of the injury, she had to go to the triage center to have her foot treated, when she arrived an amazing thing happened..she found her dog. It had just been brought into the center as well. Bear was found in a tree a mile and a half from where the house had been. He didn't sustain any broken bones but was and still is shaken. Bear ,though always loved, has become a comfort to her in this time like nothing and no one else.

A Teaspoon of Sugar Won't Help

                   Deficit, unemployment, three wars, gas prices, inflation, recession/depression, career politicians, all these plus so many more symptoms add up to one sick nation.  I would like to lay the blame at Obama's feet but these things have been festering for years.  Now, just like someone who feels unwell but ignores the symptoms until treatment is far more intensive and invasive than would have been necessary earlier, we must face the truth of our diagnosis. America is very sick and without radical intervention cannot survive. The political players and policy makers have for years sought their own interests rather than those of our nation. We trusted them, albeit only by a thread, and that trust has been betrayed, repeatedly.

The media can spin all they want, I know that in my family, things are worse not better than when Obama took office. Our home has lost 20% of it's market value since we purchased it in '06(most of that since our last appraisal- just after Obama took office). We can't afford family vacations because gas has eaten more and more of our discretionary spending money. The cost of groceries is taking a toll on our income too,  a gallon of milk is $4 and we go through three gallons on a good week. I am not saying that we are suffering; there are those struggling far more than we do to meet ends and my husband's job in the power industry has so far been safe. We are blessed. Nevertheless, I recognize the downward trend in a real way.

 The time for preventative measures has long passed, now we must take a dose of our collective medicine. It's funny to use a healthcare analogy since the Obamacare bill is one of the biggest mistakes in recent history(my opinion) but we can all relate to a doctor visit. When the doc gives you a prescription you expect it to make you better eventually even though sometimes the medicine has serious side effects.  As people who long to stay alive, we understand that and take the medicine despite the possibility of unpleasant risks and  I believe that the citizens of our country want this nation to continue to  live and thrive. We can take the "medicine" if it works to cure us, we just no longer want it masking the symptoms. I believe Americans are smarter than politicians and media think so, tell us the truth, give us our treatment options and get on with it. In spite of  what Mary Poppins might sing, no amount of sugar is going to help this medicine go down.

Overwhelmed and Underpaid

I can almost feel the color fleeing my hair's follicles. Ben is at the optometrist because he lost a contact down the drain, his LAST contact. They were kind enough to work him in today.  About 2 hours ago he sent me a text it read, "mom, I have glaucoma". If you have a mental soundtrack, you can cue the mom freak out music now.

  As those of you who read this blog know, there have been questions as to whether or not  Ben will graduate in May due to his failure to complete a research paper; and the drama doesn't end there. We have been on a roller coaster with him  these past several weeks with more long drops than we like. Roller coasters make me sick and this emotional one has had the same effect on me physically as the real deal would have done.
Sparta and I have fretted over whether or not Ben will ever do what he needs to do to be self supporting. We fear his becoming a permanent fixture in the basement. Anyway,  back to the text message -my mind went immediately to "oh no he's going blind-he'll never leave now."  I know that sounds harsh, someone probably needs to slap a little motherly sense into me. However,  if only you knew ALL the drama,you'd understand my fears. I literally ran out of the Freshway, where I was shopping, and dialed Sparta, upon the first ring my phone flashed new message from Ben, "just kidding".  Argh! I wonder how many of my brown hairs lost their color on account of this one.

He is only one factor, the teenage girls who were once my sweet Barbie playing, mommy-lovin' daughters are testing a few boundaries these days too. Allison, newly permitted to drive, gets behind the wheel at every opportunity. She is a good driver, new but good; I am a bad passenger, old and  jumpy.
Leah is pushing buttons, slamming doors and being more defiant than I ever imagined. She was the most easy going of our children. She always tried to please us and when there were issues, she would take her punishment and then just get over it, no hard feelings, no grudges. Take note of the past tense in the previous sentence. Now, I "ruin" at least one of their lives on a daily basis, or so I'm told.

Wesley ,my baby, is still a little boy who plays with toys but the attitudes of his siblings seem to be aging him beyond his years which in turn is aging me beyond my years. I thought kids were supposed to keep us feeling young.

I repeatedly tell myself and anyone else who will listen, I believe this is God's way of preparing me to let them leave the nest.

The seven trips to doctors' offices(over a 10 day period) due to sick children and the $3000 deductible we haven't yet met have contributed to the feelings of being overwhelmed too. The "I just hit someone in the Walmart parking lot" phone call I received  earlier in the week triggered some stress. It wasn't a joke. Joy.

Anyway, I am venting this all to you because Doctor Oz's show was about stress levels today- I took his quiz and it confirmed what I already knew, I am highly stressed.  You can take the test too just click the link  http://www.doctoroz.com/quiz/great-american-stress-test . 
It was recommended to keep emergency stress relief supplies on hand. These would be items which affect the senses in ways that relax a person and would be unique to the individual. I think my current soothers would be a hot vanilla-lavendar scented bubble bath, some Jason Aldean music, and jelly beans.


He also said that people needed talk about their stress to help alleviate it. I must admit I do feel better now.

Odd Jobs Done Oddly

Sparta's list of "honey-do's" is unending and most of the time undone. There are things that bother me around the house that don't seem to bother him at all, whether it's because he is so laid back or just does not notice is debatable.

It starts out sweet enough, me-"honey, the screen on the back porch is torn", him-"okay". Time passes, reminders are given,  sweet requests turn into sour jabs and still the wasps are flying into our no fly zone.  Now, I should make this cl ear-we are "do it yourselfers". Sparta is a perfectionist and all his tasks look as though they were professionally done. He has built decks, put in wood flooring, installed ceiling fans, walls and tile and I am one lucky woman to have a man so capable.

I am more a duct tape kind of woman, don't get me wrong, I like things done right but my right and Sparta's right are not the same. For years on end Sparta wouldn't allow me to paint our interior walls because he didn't like the way I pre-taped the area. I learned early that to say "I'll do it myself" would strike fear into the core of his being. I am fairly certain that the linoleum tiles I put down in our first home's tiny bathroom( fewer than 10 squares were needed) is the key to his anxiety.

I do try not to do anything that can't be undone, most of my repairs are only meant to be temporary. Some of my favorite tools are duct tape, super glue, a black Sharpie, cardboard and toothpicks. 
The porch screen, I secured that with toothpicks, leveled a toilet with cardboard, covered tears in linoleum with Liquid Paper, filled in scratches on wood furniture with a marker and after waiting for more than a year for the chair bottoms to be screwed in, I super glued them in place.

Usually, when we've had a disagreement and Sparta feels badly about something he's said or done is when my "honey do's" get done. I think we need a good argument, my list is getting pretty long.

Land Shark-I'm Only A Dolphin Ma'am

Land Shark
click this to view the SNL sketch



Mammogram- the word makes me think of the Landshark skit from Saturday Night Live, I can't hear the word without the voice of Chevy Chase running through my mind ,of course, first comes the knock knock - "Mrs. Cagle, flowers,-- plumber,-- candy,-- mammogram". Yes, the little voice inside my head is kooky.

Well, today was my special day, the mammogram day and I was not looking forward to it.  Although I'd been told that after having my first child all sense of modesty would be gone, let me assure you that after four babies it IS still intact.

Nakedness in front of strangers is not my thing, nakedness in front of people I know is not my thing.
I'm guessing the technician thought chatting would make the process less awkward ..I don't know. For me, not so much. Discussing my kids and the strange weather of late as she manipulated, smashed and pressed, really didn't do a thing for me. I did decide this type of conversation needed it's own word- one that aptly portrays the strangeness of the exchange. Oh, but what to call it- "boobie babble", "ta-ta talk", "cha-cha chatter". Your ideas?