Jumping Around (And A Complaint About Steve)

Got your "jumping around" shoes on? That is exactly what this post is going to be doing--jumping around from one topic to another. To another. And another. And surely "Blog Post Jumping Around" must be good for burning up at least a few calories!

The happiest blog news of the day is that Nathan will be arriving back home from Florida this evening. He's only been gone two weeks so I don't know why I have been missing him so much, but I sure have. I've been going through severe bouts of Nathan Withdrawal and am looking forward to finally getting my Nathan Fix.

In ministry news, Steve has a busy week ahead of him. Our pastor is out of town so Steve will be preaching at our church's satellite location in Goldsboro on Thursday and Saturday nights and at the main location twice on Sunday morning. (Over a thousand people altogether.) He is really looking forward to it and I am really glad that he has an outlet for his very excellent speaking gift.

We've also been invited to a few other churches in the area over the next couple of months so we're excited about that.

And while I'm on THIS subject (and before jumping around to the next one) let me just say that I am also available to speak and sing on my own. I have done entire morning services (providing music and sermon), conferences, luncheons and women's services. As long as my travel expenses are covered, there is no minimum fee set for an honorarium; it's just whatever the host would like to give. If you want to contact me at beckysmith62@aol.com for references and/or more info, I'd love to hear from you.

Okay, where shall we jump next? Are you still with me?

Actually, this is going to be a pretty big jump since I'm going to take you on a brief trip down Cancer Lane and show you a few pictures from that era.

What do these pictures all have in common? (Besides the fact that Sarah is in them all.)

There is another person who is in every picture as well, a dear friend of mine named Carolyn Stephenson. Carolyn was in the room with Steve and me when the doctor told us that Sarah had cancer and what her chances of survival were. She visited us numerous times in the hospital, read books to Sarah, played checkers with her, made a million jokes with her and stayed with her so I could get out for awhile.

Carolyn's husband, Danny, pastors Mooresville First Assembly which is the church our family attended during all of Sarah's active treatment. Danny and Carolyn were there for our family as we grappled with the severity of the diagnosis, and they held us together as our world fell apart.

They even loaned us their own van for several months so that we had a way to get to and from the hospital for treatment. When we heard bad news from the doctor, they wept with us and when the news was good, they readily turned into "happy partying pastors." As you can probably tell, they are pretty special folks in our book.

So WHY am I talking about them, seven years after the fact? I am talking about them because Carolyn has just started her own blog and I would like to pay her back for her zillion kindnesses to me by advertising her blog. Carolyn is a certified Life Coach, a speaker, writer, singer, pastor's wife, and a very wise and funny lady. I promise you that you will enjoy her blog and will want to bookmark it immediately. If not sooner!

So would you do me a personal favor? Stop by her blog. Sign her guestbook. Become a follower. Enjoy making the acquaintance of a wonderful lady who is ever so dear to the hearts of the Smith family.

(And since I like interconnected tales, let me also mention that we met Danny and Carolyn for the first time here in Smithfield when Steve and I were youth and music pastors back in the early '80's. As time went by, Steve and I hit the road and then Danny and Carolyn eventually became staff pastors in Smithfield before resigning twelve years ago and taking their own pastorate in Mooresville.)

Alrighty then. I can feel another "jump" comin' on!

Oh, that reminds me. (This is an unscheduled jump, by the way.) Since I was just writing about Sarah, a little joke she made during treatment comes to mind. During one of her "chemo visits" to the hospital, the nurse was flushing out her feeding tube and Steve told Sarah very seriously that the nurse was putting pond water in her tube and that the pond water was full of frogs.

Sarah fixed him with a deadpan gaze and retorted, "Well, I hope it doesn't make me too jumpy!"

Nothing like a sense of humor on the oncology ward!

And speaking of Steve (this is a smaller jump since I was already speaking of him) I must say that over the past few months, he has been offending me greatly. On a daily basis. On an hourly basis. On a secondly basis. (If there IS such a thing.)

How has he offended me?

He has gained weight.

And WHY is that offensive?

It's offensive because of something that has gone on concurrently with his weight gain, something that is annoying in the extreme. And here's what it is.

When Steve is out running errands around town, he often runs into people who haven't seen him in six months. They stop. They chat. And the person inevitably comments on Steve's weight gain. And then (here's the offensive part) they COMPLIMENT him! They say the extra weight looks GOOD on him. They say he looks GREAT!

You know what? I have gained weight once or twice (or thrice) over the course of my life and I cannot recall even one little ol' stinkin' time when someone has said to me, "Becky, that extra weight really looks great on you."

Never! Not once!

And then Steve puts on a few and is showered, even lavished with compliments. I ask you, is that fair?

First of all, I had to spend the first twenty-seven years of our marriage listening to him say that he had to eat some ice cream before bed in order to keep his weight up. And now that he's finally gotten past the challenge of "keeping his weight up" and has even GAINED weight, he is lauded.

Even his DOCTOR is happy! When was the last time YOUR doctor was happy when you gained weight. Huh?

This is not only NOT fair, it is NOT good and it is NOT right.

I must add that it's certainly fortunate that he's such a great fella in every other way or I might have to become even more exceedingly and extremely annoyed by this whole scenario than I already am.

As I close (in a huff) I will post before and after pictures of Steve to see if you agree with the people in Smithfield who are all so happily impressed by his WEIGHT GAIN.

(Grrr. Why does just typing that sentence just make me so mad? Maybe it's because I can just stand next to a brownie and gain weight. Ya think?)


Before Pictures













After


So, watcha think? Do extra pounds agree with him? If I could ever get past being mad about him being so HAPPY about gaining weight, I guess I could say he looks even more handsome than ever.

But what would have really made the whole scenario much more bearable is that if he was really all that intent on gaining weight, I could have just GIVEN him twenty five pounds of my own.

Because I'm generous like that.

_______________________

In my next post, I'll be answering some of the questions from the guest book (haven't forgotten them!) and also commenting on your comments. Sounds like a fun time to me!

May I Borrow Your Busyness?

I was in a store last week when I heard a lady on her cell phone, chattering away with cheery enthusiasm.

Her side of the conversation basically went like this, "Well, I have to go by the store and pick up the birthday cake and then make potato salad, and then find that chicken casserole recipe I lost, and drop off Kim at ballet class and run by the Post Office and then go and get the oil changed."

Do you know what I wanted to do?

I wanted to march right up to her, tap her on her shoulder and say, "Excuse me, ma'am. May I borrow your busyness?"

Steve and I used to be addicted to busyness. To adrenalin. To crises. To over scheduling. To being needed. To being indispensable.

So when I heard this lady going on and on about her busy life, I felt a brief, strong moment of envy. I wanted someone to be relying on ME to bring the potato salad. I wanted to, once again, have too many things to do and too little time in which to do them.

It has occurred to me more than once that a lot of us seem to derive our self esteem from being over tired, over extended, and over scheduled.

I mean, think about conversations you have with people around you. You ask your neighbor, "Hey, how are you doing?"

She replies, "Well, okay I guess, but if this summer gets any busier I don't know what I'll do. I've been running around like a maniac trying to get everything ready before we go on vacation, and the kids all need me to take them places, and I haven't cleaned my house in a month, and the dog needs to go to the vet, and I had to work overtime three days in a row and I am exhausted!"

Bingo!

She suddenly feels useful and needed because she is frantically (and happily) over scheduled. And you admire her for it, maybe even more so than if she had replied, "Well, I'm feeling very well rested, and I've crossed the last thing off my to do list and I think I'm just going to spend the rest of the afternoon reading a book."

Because Americans are all about busy. We're all about doing stuff faster, doing MORE stuff a LOT faster.

Take communication for instance.

We started out with the Pony Express. Four weeks for your letter to get to your Great Aunt Martha in Boston? No big deal.

A short while later, the telephone is invented. But not many people have it. Most folks still rely on slow and ponderous methods of communication. But it's still okay. Because "frantic" isn't yet the most important word the American vocabulary.

Pretty soon, there is cross-country telephone service. And the pace picks up a little.

And then in the 1930's and '40's, radio and TV start to make an appearance and the soul of the nation starts to change.

Then it's fax machines, the first computers, the first cell phones. The thought of waiting a month to get a message to our dear old aunt in Boston is unspeakable. Because we are impatient! We are important. We are busy! And we are important because we are busy!

Or so we think.

And you know the rest of the story. E-mail, instant messaging, test messaging and Twitter all conspire to pay a visit to a nation of people who can't stand silence, who can't stand to wait for more than a few seconds for ANYTHING.

Three minute oatmeal isn't fast enough. We must have one minute oatmeal. No wait! That's too slow. We must have INSTANT oatmeal!

And busyness becomes the new badge of worthiness. If you're busy, if you're over scheduled, if you're on the brink of a breakdown because of your commitments and responsibilities, then you are looked at with such great admiration that those might around you might even be tempted to ask, "May I borrow your busyness? I want to feel important, too!"

Our pastor is preaching through the Twenty Third Psalm. Yesterday he focused on the verse, "He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters."

Don't you know there weren't any cell phones ringing beside those still waters?

Don't you know that in those green pastures, the only "Twittering" going was bird related?

When Nathan was in Israel earlier this year, he was strongly impacted by the Jewish peoples' weekly tradition of observing Shabbat. Although Shabbat is translated as "rest," its meaning goes even further by encouraging active rather than passive abstinence from work.

In other words, those very wise folks in Israel make it a priority to rest and to cease from their labors. Nathan said the shops close down, and families spend time together and there is a wonderful sense of restful quiet no matter where you go.

He said, "Mom, why don't people in American do that?"

Good question.

Actually, ministers are the WORST culprits for not taking time off. As I said earlier, Steve and I spent a lot of years addicted to adrenalin. We were addicted to the ridiculous belief that if we took off a day or even (gasp!) a whole week, that surely all of Christendom would collapse. We were important and we were needed and we were crucial to what was going on. And that was a great feeling.

But that was then. This is now.

For seven months now we have been unneeded. We have been non crucial. We have had no adrenalin pumping to get addicted to. Our Type-A, workaholic personalities have had to do an about face and our frantic, overworked selves have had to learn the strange skill of lying down in green pastures.

And yes, we have needed this time of rest. Before it came, we were both very "stretched." Steve, especially, was burned out in every sense of the word.

But now, seven months later? I would really like to borrow someone's busyness! I would really like to sew myself back into the fabric of a church and a community--people who rely on me, people upon whom I rely.

Steve and I have stayed active over these past months, simply because we're wired in such a way that doesn't allow us to give ourselves over to doing nothing. But it's not the kind of activity we're used to. It's a little lonely, a little solitary, a little strange to stay busy outside the context of friends, church and community.

We're ready for the pace to pick up a little. We're ready to be needed again. And I know that that time is not far off, when I will once again have so much busyness of my own that I won't be tempted to borrow from someone else.

But when that time comes, I don't ever want to ever forget the serenity of Shabbat. I don't want to be guilty of sprinting by the green pastures God has prepared for me. I don't want to fail to remember that I am created in the image of a God who found it needful and helpful to take a time of rest.

I am not indispensable. And neither are you.

Isn't that the best news you've ever heard?

A Sermon on A Stump

He was just sitting there.

On a stump.

Looking away from the people who were working behind him. Looking toward the group of teenagers who filled the field in front of him.

And I won't ever forget him.

I was driving past a local High School and noticed that the marching band was outside rehearsing their formations and their flag waving protocols. A colorful group of kids, awash in high spirits and bright colors, filled with energy and focus.

Although they didn't realize it, they were being watched. The teenager across the road, a young migrant worker, was taking a brief respite from the back breaking work of harvesting crops under a scorching Carolina sun. He was turned toward the dreams he had no hopes of ever achieving, turned away from the sadness that comprised the narrow boundaries of his life.

I only had time for the briefest glimpse; however, I didn't need a week, a month, or a year to comprehend the look of naked yearning on his face as he watched kids his own age prepare to march into the next football game, the next year of High School, the first year of college, and from there, into a future that was brighter than the blazing sun.

It occurred to me that those marching students probably had no idea how truly blessed they were. Sure they had loads of homework, dating problems, tough teachers, summer job concerns, and worries about being accepted by their favorite college.

But all of those "problems" actually represented opportunities, opportunities that they didn't think twice about having.

The boy on the stump. The kids in the field. Teenagers at the same stage of life.

Some of them marching off into the great unknown of unlimited possibilities. One of them turning and trudging back into the not-so-great "known" of every day unfolding exactly like the day before.

That young man represented a sermon on a stump to me.

The sermon said, "Yes, life is complicated and challenging and full of decisions and choices and unexpected turns in the road. But all those decision and choices that make life complicated also represent freedom and opportunity. So stop your bellyaching about how hard life is, because you don't know the meaning of hard until you've sat on a stump and watched your dreams for a different future march away into the distance and all you're left with is the bleak, sad sameness of a thousand days passing. "

A sermon on a stump.

I will always see it, always hear it, always remember it.

And it will always remind me. I am blessed.

A Happy, Romantic, Lovely, Heartwarming Tale

I have a "happy announcement" to make today! But first, a little happy history behind the happy announcement.  
Take a look at this picture.

See if you can pick out Nate. (Not too hard, is it? He's the kid with the big smile next to the guy in the black shirt.)

Okay, now take a look at the young lady to the far left.

Got that? Good!

This picture is special because it was taken when Nate was ten. Meagan, the young lady on the left, was about twelve.  And it was the first time the two of them ever met.

Now let's fast forward a few years. Do these people look at all familiar?

Here's the story behind THAT picture.

Meagan and her family were in a time of transition after having been on the road as musicians/evangelists for six years, doing the exact thing OUR family did for fifteen years. During their wait to find a pastorate, Meagan's mom, Sheri, worked at First Assembly for six months as an interim choir director. (And did a fabulous job.)

Well, as it turned out, Sheri (who I've been friends with for a long time) asked me one day for a "little favor." She said, "Meagan has been home schooled for all of her teen years and has never been to a formal. Since JCA (the church's Christian Academy) is having their formal soon and Nathan isn't taking anyone, do you think he might be willing to take Meagan, just as friends, so she can have that experience?

Nathan and Meagan were not at all romantically inclined at that point; Meagan and her two sisters hung out with Nathan and Sarah just because the two families were friends.)

I broached the idea to Nathan and he was good with it, so he and Meagan attended the formal together. Which is really funny because he picked her up at their RV which is where her family lived full time. (Exactly the way WE lived all those years.) Just what are the chances that the very first girl Nathan takes anywhere important would live in a camper?

Here's Frank, reading Nathan the (pretend) riot act.


Nathan, Meagan and their "parental units."


So anyway, the formal went fine; they had fun and really enjoyed hanging out together. For about a year after that, they were "kind of" an item but didn't really date each other officially except for lone little "sort of date" going out to eat. (For one thing, Nathan didn't even have his driver's license during that time it made things a bit more complicated.)

Here they are, having fun in our back yard.



Painting our kitchen together. Nice to have "built in" workers!

Then Meagan's family moved to Florida and her dad took a a church near the college. Meagan went off to join her two older sisters at Southeastern University and she and Nathan decided that with the mileage distance and their busy individual schedules, it might be better to bring the semi-serious side of their relationship to an end. And so they did.

Four years passed.

The families stayed in touch and we visited each other back and forth. (Meagan's parents both have extended family near Smithfield so they pass by here fairly often.) Eventually Nathan headed off to Southeastern and started attending Meagan's parent's church while he was there. He remained good friends with Meagan and her sisters and they all enjoyed each others' company.

Now fast forward again.

Nathan has been home from college since December, since his trip to Israel counted as the second semester of his sophomore year. In May, he decided to drive down to Florida to hang out for a week, and see some of his college buddies before they all went home for the summer. As he was getting ready to head back to North Carolina, Meagan asked if she could ride along with him since she has a lot of friends in Smithfield who she wanted to visit.

During the ten-hour journey home, the two of them got to talking. And reminiscing. And talking some more. Throughout Meagan's stay in Smithfield, the two of them continued to have some "interesting" conversations. And then it was time for her to fly back home.

Some long distance conversations ensued. A couple weeks went by and Meagan's parents invited Nathan and another Smithfield friend to drive down to Florida to help with a week of Vacation Bible School since they were short on male volunteers.

Nathan and Meagan ministered side by side for a week and then late Friday night, Nathan had an important conversation with an important someone.

But it wasn't with Meagan.

It was with Meagan's DAD!

You see, Nathan and Meagan are a bit old fashioned and they decided that if they DID decide to date seriously, that Nathan would ask Frank for his permission.

Although Frank made Nathan sweat just a little bit, permission was happily granted.

And now Nathan is officially dating one of the most wonderful young ladies you could ever hope to meet. She's a wonderful Christian, a pastor's kid, has traveled a lot (in the U.S. and in other countries) is musical, intelligent, very funny, and is going to college to be a teacher. (She'll graduate this winter.)

Three days ago, he and Meagan finally (after knowing each other eight years) had their very first official date.

Woo-hoo!

I'm just so proud of both Nathan and Meagan for the way they've waited on the right timing for their relationship, the way they've talked about it and prayed about it and treated it with the seriousness it deserves.

Somehow, in the midst of all this exciting drama, Nathan's one-week trip to Florida has morphed into a two-week trip. He'll return next Tuesday and I must say, I can't wait to see him. I'm so happy that HE'S so happy and he's so happy that Steve and I are happy and we're so happy that Meagan's parents are happy and Sarah is so happy because everyone is happy! And by the way, Meagan's really happy, too!

I told you it would be a happy, romantic, lovely, heartwarming tale.

And it was!

Groceries, Questions, and Toilet Paper

Steve and Sarah left for the grocery store at 3:35 pm yesterday afternoon.

I made doubly sure I had the telephone near me before sitting down with my computer. It didn't take long.


Call #1 from Steve:
Q. They're having a big sale on your favorite drink; shall I get some even though it wasn't on the list?
A. Yes!


Call #2 from Sarah:
Q. How many onions should we buy? And what color? White, yellow, or red?
A. Two. One yellow, one red.


Call #3 from Steve:
Q. You have grey poupon mustard on the list but do you really need that kind or can I get the brown spicy variety?
A. Since I NEVER eat mustard he got do whatever he wanted!


Call #4 from Sarah:
Q. They have four kinds of Rotel tomatoes--Mild, Mexican, Hot and Original. Which kind should we get?
A. Original


Call #5 from Steve:
Q. Do you want the foamy hand soap or the regular hand soap?
A. Regular.


Call #6 from Steve: (Talking really high to disguise his voice as Sarah's so that I wouldn't get annoyed with him for calling again. I was, of course, totally fooled.)
Q. What size tortilla shells do you want?
A. The smaller size.


Call #7 from Steve:
Q. What kind of toilet paper should we get?
A. Now THAT is a good question because, of course, the options are endless. There's Ultra, Ultra Strong, Ultra Soft, Charmin With Aloe, Charmin With Lotion, Large Roll, Big Roll, Giant Roll, Scented, Unscented, Basic, Charmin Plus, Diamond Weave, Septic Safe, and Plus.

I told him to take two aspirin and call me in the morning. (ha.)


At any rate, they finally made it home with victorious, albeit weary, looks on their faces and put all the groceries away for me. Aren't they simply wonderful?

The Widget Thingie!

Okay, my lil sis, Debbie, just signed in and said she didn't SEE a new widget thingie in the left column.

Am I seeing things? Is she NOT seeing things? Does anyone else see the widget in the left column?

Please let me know because either Debbie or I might be losing our marbles and we're both hoping it's the other person.

Actually, let me phrase it THIS way. If you DON'T see the new gadget on the left, sign in and let me know. That would probably be simpler.

And while I'm on the subject, drop on over to My Charming Kids and look at HER widget thingie. That might give you a better idea of what the whole BlogFrog widget thingie is all about. My goal with this whole thing is to try and create a "discussion forum" here so that one of you can make a comment or ask a question, and then other people can pile on after you and comment on your comment or answer your question. It sounds like a fun, cool idea if we can all just get it figured out.

Whew! This is all requiring a lot of thinking, on TOP of the fact that I am also in the process of introducing Steve to the vagaries of Facebook this morning. My "technical mental quota" for the day is just about used up!

Look to Your Left

Hi all! I've added a new gadget in the left column and I'm not really sure what it does. However, I'm curious to find out, so I added a little comment over there to get things rolling. If some of you would also write a little something, too (I don't care what it is--maybe what you had for breakfast!) we'll see how the whole thing works.

If we all like it and think it's the coolest thing since sliced bread, I'll keep it there.

However, if we all think it's kind of a strange and non-useful gadget type thing, I will say, "Off with its head!" and remove it post haste. (Post haste means, "With the greatest possible speed." I've ALWAYS wanted to use that word and finally got to. Life is good.)

Anyway, later today, I will have an exclusive report on the Sarah and Steve Grocery Shopping Expedition.

Yes I know. Only the MOST exciting Smith stuff is posted here on the exciting Smithellaneous blog!

The Three S's

I haven't "gotten around to" doing the grocery shopping three days in a row, and now Steve and Sarah have offered to do it for me! Is that nice, or what?

It would sure be fun to sneak into the grocery store and follow the two of them at a distance; I'm sure it would be a very amusing sight as they peruse the list and try to make the bazillion choices that we women have to make all the time.

Let's see here:

36 oz. or 52 oz? Store brand or name brand? 80/20 fat content on the ground beef or 70/30? Which of the 2,398 kinds of cereal do I choose? Should I choose sliced turkey or ham for lunches? Will the family shoot me if I buy frozen peas yet again? What brand of paper towels are on sale? How does this "price per ounce" compare with THAT "price per ounce?" Idaho potatoes or Yukon Gold? Blueberries, strawberries or cantaloupe for our "fruit of the week?" How many times have we had fish sticks in the past month? Is Steve out of popcorn? And most importantly, "Have they invented any calorie free chocolate yet?"

Ah yes. The joy of it all. And today, Steve and Sarah will have their little ol' eyes opened to that rich experience and will come home in great exhaustion and much more respect and appreciation for the family's Designated Grocery Shopper!

I am usually not so behind on my grocery shopping but I must say that the weekend in Charleston just wore me slap out. I took a two hour nap yesterday (which is highly unusual) and dragged around the house looking like, well, a woman dragging around the house. My voice is all ragged and hoarse again today and I feel like every ounce of my energy supply was sucked out by that wonderful but tiring sojourn on Sunday.

You know, we used to travel and sing like that all the time (for fifteen years) but it has occurred to me that doing that sort of thing in your twenties and thirties is just a teensy bit different from doing it in your late forties and early fifties. And with my throat, lung, and muscle weakness issues--well, I think I jolly well DESERVE a day or two to recover.

Which is why I truly appreciate Sarah and Steve braving the grocery store on my behalf and being such wonderful people in general.

And last night, Steve even did the evening reading with Sarah (Sarah and I usually take turns reading a chapter) so that I could rest my voice and my person. Although we usually read in Steve's and my room, I sent them off to Nathan's room for the session since I was going to bed early.

But before going to bed I, of course, had to snap a few pictures. What really strikes me funny about these photos is the way that Snowy is looking at me in every single shot. It's like he doesn't quite trust the wild woman with the mysterious silver colored, flashing object in front of her face.

Or maybe he thinks I'm going to grab him and carry him off. Either way, he did not ONCE take his eyes off me.

Don't you just love that cute little (suspicious) face? I also love the other two faces in the pictures, as well.

Steve, Sarah, and Snowy. What a blessing it is to live with The Three S's.