Joy To The World

Recently I was reading about feelings.Feelings are like our relational compass. Indicators of the direction that our relationships are going. Signals that something is good or something is bad.

Joy is a feeling. It's a gooooood feeling. A reallly good feeling.

That being said, I want to share with you all a few glimpses into a day that filled my heart with joy and my house with laughter, shouting and good food. Incidentally, did you know that nearly every use of the word joy or one of its derivatives in the Bible is used in conjunction with singing, shouting or feasting?

We feasted, shouted, giggled, sang and shared the Joy, Joy, Joy we had deep in our hearts.

Let me show you what I mean.

There's joy in them thar eyes, I tell ya.

Brown-eyed Lacy Lou. She's got it. Joy. And best of all, she shares it. Just look at that grin.

Us girls, we decided to hang out and play a board game and watch some Disney TV.

Because nothing brings joy to your heart quite like the music and dance of Hannah Montanna and the sweet giggles of your opponent failing to get the Clue's worked out just right and knowing your going to whip her tail.

But, those boys. Well, they decided to fill the house with loud shouts of joy and jubilation like "Smoked ya!'" and "Oh Snap!" and "Dude!" and "Imma let you have that one!"

along with deep belly laughs, grunts, and other bodily noises that I won't mention on here. Because they are just gross.

After a little game and song and dance time, us girls headed to the kitchen. A place we love to go.

Don't let these faces fool you. They have not lost their joy. Just perplexed at the fact that I don't just buy cookie dough at the store, but make it.

They are starting to recognize the dough now. Joy at the thought of warm, chocolate cookies starts to enter their little minds and smiles creep across their faces soon.

Or it could be that she has the equivalent of one of her dad's power tools in her hand right there. Well, almost the equivalent. Mines a little old and weak. But, you know what I mean. Using an electric mixer can make you feel powerful and joyful all at the same time.

By the time the cookies went in the oven, it was time for this old lady to find some joy in a little quiet time. What to do? Oh, I know. Banish the kids to the outdoors. Yes!

In my quiet time I cleaned the cookie mess and made a new mess cooking dinner. I find it pure joy to cook and clean. I'm just weird like that.

It wasn't long before the call of electronics lured the kids back inside and my quiet time came to an end. But, dinner was ready. Hip, hip horray for a feast!

Boys. Boys! BOYS!! Griffin?! Ty?! Gabe?! Hey- is anyone listening? ANYONE?!

Dinner is ready PEOPLE! Come to the table. Now.

That did it. The mention of food and their focus of joy in electronics shifted rapidly to the joy that growing pre-teen boys find in food.

Notice the nearly clean plates and empty glasses. Boys are so much better at being adventerous eaters than girls. I speak from personal experience.

Griffin, still hungry? Would you like a little salt and pepper on those fingers? Don't forget we have cookies for dessert.

Not so much on the clean plates here. But, full of joy none the less.

Look at that gopher smile. We have a song that goes with that smile and it goes like this.

We are the gopher-girls.

We really go-for guys.

But, they don't go-for us.

We wonder why?

Phhh-Phhh, Phhh-Phhh

(sound made by using that exact face above)

Guys really won't have any trouble going for these girls one day. Even if they eat like birds. Because they are full of joy and share it freely!

This last Sunday at church, Gary Thomas was in and talked about Pure Pleasure, which happens to be the title of a new book he has out. It was a great message and I can't wait to read the book. What stuck with me most is that sometimes we get so hell-bent (yes, I said that) on filtering our lives as Christians that miss oppurtunities to take pleasure and find joy in our lives.

What pure pleasures have you enjoyed lately? How have you experienced joy in your relationships? Share with me, because I'd really like to hear. It would make my day.

The Three Amigos and The Bevil Oaks Bandit

There is a bit of delay in getting this post up. You know how sometimes, life just gets in the way of blog posting. Just like when you have a really great series of spooky posts for Halloween which was to be topped off with the spookiest of spooky stories on the twilight of such a ghoulish evening and it just vanished into thin air. Almost as quickly as that ghost next to you will vanish.

Gotcha!

Luckily, the ghosts and goblins stayed away this year and I was left with a peaceful and fun evening with a friend, a good hearty bowl of chili, and lemon bars to sweeten the deal. Besides a few stray supermen, ladybugs, and baseball players that made their way to my neck of the woods, the evening was fairly uneventful.

Oh, and did I mention the three amigos made an appearance?

OK, so it's just one amigo and his compadres. I'm fairly certain that it was the imminent danger that these three presented that put an inexplicable fear into the eyes of any ghosts and goblins that had their sight set on our home for the evening.

You can see it, can't you? Almost feel the way it penetrates deep into your soul. Just eerie. Downright fearful, I tell you.

Now that I have you headed toward the frightened side of life a little, let me tell you a little story. A story, true in nature and that to this day gives me more heebee-jeebee's than any Halloween trick or treat I could imainge. Well, almost.

Once upon a time, many, many, many, many years ago when I was young and full of life I lived through a horrific nightmare of my own. The day before was a comfortable, sunny, summer day and as any 16 year old was happy to do, I headed out to mow the grass. The obligatory duty of any allowance receiving  teenage daughter who needed to use the family mini-van for a night out with friends and a little extra for gas money.

I was strutting my stuff around the yard in my perfectly permed, teased and hair-sprayed hair, electric blue eye-lined eyes, sporty Bodyglove bathing suit top, and Dirty Dancing cutoff shorts atop the riding lawn mower lifting my wayfarer sunglasses emphatically in search of any head that I might turn. Who could drive by without acknowledging such brazen beauty on such a glorious day?

When suddenly, my sweet, darling sister came barreling out of the front door with telephone to let me know I had a call. The details of the call, I do not recall, but I specifically remember handing her the phone back and scooting her on her way back into the house, so as not to distort the grandiose view of any interested party who might be swept away by my loveliness that day.

Later that night, I slept soundly in my twin, trundle bed. When in an instant, my eyes opened widely and I was paralyzed by a fear like I had never known. At the foot of my bed, stood a man holding a flashlight which seemed to dimly light the outer features of his face. In that moment, every ounce of me wanted to let out a blood curdling scream, but all I could do was stare. My mouth would not open, my arms would not move and I could not find my voice.

All that I could do was close my eyes.

And so I did.

What felt like an eternity, was probably only mere seconds. My thoughts were something like this..."please be a dream, please be a dream. I'm going to open my eyes again in a second and realize that all of this is a very bad dream."

But, as these thoughts raced through my mind I felt a deepening sense of fear creep over me. Chills shivered down my neck and I bravely opened my eyes again and was blinded by the immediate light that was inches from my nose. He was there. Next to me at the side of my bed. I gasped and tried to muster up a scream for my father but again, my vocal cords were frozen. Paralyzed and still, I lay there and felt helpless. All I could do was close my eyes.

As I did, I heard the shuffle of footsteps on the parquet floor away from bed and down the hall. They moved right out the front door and crossed the yard. The sound of leaves crunched just outside my bedroom window and I lay still until I could hear the footsteps no more. Hoping still that all of this was a dream, I squeezed my eyes shut for what felt like an eternity.

After sometime, I finally regained some control of my limp and exhausted body, opened my eyes and dragged myself out of the bed. It took all I had to re-trace the footsteps of this night-time visitor down the hall and around the corner to see the front door standing wide open. And then I screamed and simultaneously realized my sister did not lock the door after she brought the phone in earlier in the day.

Somewhat of a delayed reaction, I know. But, I found my voice and ran to my father's bed as fast as I could.

To everyone's surprise, we found the next day that several other young ladies in our community experienced similar situations the same night. All encounters of a man with a flashlight. No harm done or words spoken. Just intense moments of fear.

Stories have been told about similar events in prior years but I know of none since that time. The Bevil Oaks Bandit is still at large and I have since inherited a compulsive habit of checking for locked doors each night.

Now, go check your doors. Crawl in bed and have a peaceful night's sleep. I dare you too!

A Lesson to All

Here is my child. Ain't he cute?

I know. I know. I should be protecting him from the likes of the many distrubed strangers that may stumble across this blog who would want to risk their lives to take on the challenge of abducting and raising this gnarley thing as their own. But, I'd rather share him with you. All five of you who read this thing and the ocassional stranger who wanders across this site. I'm sharing him with you because I promise he will light up your life almost as much as he does mine. And, if you (yes, I'm talking directly to you, crazed internet stranger) get any ideas that you might want to try something funny with this guy, let this post be fair warning that there will be consequences. Consequences that you will not want to face. I promise.

On with the story.



Griffin attended the girls volleyball game last night at school. This is becoming a new routine for him and I am beginning to wonder about his newfound interest in volleyball. Or do you think it could be the girls? Hmmm...I'm sticking with the volleyball because that is more comforting to me. Anyway, who wouldn't be interested in such a great, competitive and exciting sport?! I mean really.

I arrived just a little after 7:30pm to pick him up and to my surprise I found him wandering the school grounds with a friend. It's dark outside y'all. Dark with danger lurking around every corner. Besides what happeneded to sitting on the bleachers in the gym showing your school pride and cheering on your schools team to an exciting vitory?

Needless to say, my parental concerns kicked into high gear. So, things went like this. He got in the car and the ramblings began. To save some time and spare some of the meaningless detail my arguments in list form sounded something like this:

1. Something bad could happen to you out there alone.
2. You weren't where you told me you would be.
3. Do you know that something bad could happen to you out there?
4. The girls on that volleyball team needed your support.
5. Do you know that some football players were threatened with pellet guns by a bunch of vagrant kids after school the other day and something bad could happen to you out there alone in the dark?
6. How do you even know how the volleyball team played?
7. What happens if a group of 15, crazed, gang members come and jump you out there in the dark? Something really bad could happen to you.
8. The cheerleaders just can't keep up the entire school spirit on their own. They need audience partipation. That means they need an audience.
9. How do you plan to protect yourself, young man if someone approached you out there in the dark?
10. Your friends on the volleyball team were counting on you being there.

Get the idea?

We return home and I promptly ordered a pizza for dinner because of course, I was famished from all of the worrying and ranting and Griffin was really, ready for me to shove something in my mouth so I would just shut up already. As Griffin was on his way out of the door to walk into the dark night across the street to pick up the pizza he turns and says...

"oh and mom, don't worry about me getting jumped by a group of 15 boys while I am gone. I have my pocket knife with me for protection."

Don't say you haven't been warned, internet stalker.

Conversations with "G"

I should rename this blog to Conversations With "G." They are the highlight of my days. I'm sure they would be the highlight of yours too. In fact, let's try it out today and see how it works.

Scene: Driving in the car at 9pm at night to CVS to purchase throat lozenges for the sore throat he has had all day and not informed me about until now.

Mom: (after taking in a whiff of one very rank odor) "G," did you fart?

G: Yes.

Mom: Thank you.

G: It was my pleasure.

When Life Gives You Lemons Make Lemonade

So, my son's chief complaint these days revolves around his height. Or lack of it. Unfortunately, the kids gene pool isn't working for him in this area, but ain't no thing. He's working it out. Making lemonade out of lemons just like mama said.

Today he told me the best thing about his height are the "hugging benefits."

"Huh? What's that?" says the oh so naive mom.

Well, G's much taller friend from the back agreed that when it comes to girls, G has all the advantage because he is the perfect height when it comes to hugging girls.

Oh. Oh my. Oh my aching ears.

I'm just not sure how much more of this I can take.

And we haven't even made it to 13 yet.

YIKES!

Confessions of a Snooping Mom

Time for a confession. I really need to get something off my chest.

I hacked my sons email account.

It all started so harmlessly. Just a few days ago he was still needing assistance logging into his account and I knew his password because, of course, I was the one who set it up.

But, one girlfriend and a weekend with his aunt later, he has secured his email account from his old mom. Changed his password. Without my knowledge. What is this world coming too? Who does he think he is?

This old mom won't be outsmarted though.

Know what I did?

Yep. Changed the password again.

I've never been a fan of IT folk. Not so great experiences with their kind in my lifetime. But, today more than any other time in my life I truly appreciate the power of the administrator role and have a healthy (if only temporary) respect for that role.

Want to know what I found? I know your dying to know.

Here it is..

GF: Hi baby I miss u VERY much:( 2 quick questions,,,, What makes u brake up with a girl? What makes u love a girl? I would brake up with a guy if I found he was cheating on me or if he wasn't a Christian. I would love a guy if he was funny, sweat, nice to me an my friends, and CARES for me and my feelings!! That is a good thing baby that u r all of those things to me!!!!! Luv u,, try to plz check u email more often plz baby!!!!

BF: what makes me brake up wid a girl is if she is a deadbeat (wich ur not) and a total female dog. What makes me love a girl is her smile and how she wont hide her feelings and if she is nice, funny , and cares for me.luv u lots.reply SOOOOON lol

Let me just interject here that although their English teachers for the last 7 years would be mortified at the spelling and grammar skills displayed throughout their exchanges, I am particularly proud here of G's creative use of descriptive words in order to avoid using profanity. Did you catch that? If not, please re-read. I promise you will get a chuckle.

GF: awsome u rock
BF: u no it babe
Is it just me, or do you think she might be coming on a little strong?

GF: (tiger roar u know like the sexy way)
BF: ? idk
GF: nvm i will tell u later sexy
BF: by sexy
YES! YES! YES! He didn't get the tiger roar comment! There is some preservation of innocence still there.

Guess I have some explaining to do before GF takes that education responsibility on herself. I'm a little concerned about where she might go with that.

It's on my calendar for later in the week. Time for another of our mom/son dates at Chili's for some birds and bees discussion over Chicken Crispers, endless Dr. Pepper and molten chocolate cake. As much as I would really prefer to throw back a couple shots of whiskey before embarking on this little convo, I guess giving G his favorite meal will make ease the pain some...at least he will be less grumpy about the whole thing.

I'm sure there are some real critics out there who would like to tie me to a pole and give me a thousand lashes for even thinking of invading my child's privacy and, on top of that, posting it for the world to see. But, the great thing is when your a parent, you can do that. And not really care what everyone in the world thinks.

Besides, G doesn't read this. Neither does the GF. So, I think I'm in the clear. At least for now.