New look at old Alma Mata

I finished my high school years at C.E. Byrd High School in Shreveport, Louisiana. Our mascot was the "yellow jacket". I didn't think much of it. I have always been afraid of them and will run screaming like a little kid when they are around.. bees, wasps hornets, yellow jackets, dirt dobber, fly - whatever is flying fast around me gets my attention and I start trying to get away. I did get stung on the tongue while eating an apple on the playground in first grade - which scared everyone and earned me a trip to the ER, and I know I stepped on a bee while walking barefoot as a young child, but I don't remember much about it except to be afraid.

Now I know what the deal is! On Monday (Labor Day) I got nailed on the ring finger of my left hand. Unprovoked, unexpected, and certainly undeserved! I never saw it coming. It was a yellow jacket! It hurt like the DEVIL! I'd say a pain level of 8 on a scale of 10 for about 12 to 14 hours and then mild pain after. Swelling was bad. Nothing eased the pain. It is now Thursday - 3 days later and all the pain has finally subsided and the insane itching has commenced. This pain was probably worse than when I broke my finger. I am amazed how bad it really hurt. No wonder I am so afraid. Of course now I've learned all about them and my fear actually attracts them. But that doesn't mean I will be able to act differently in their presence. Especially since my current plan is to stay in the house until the cold weather rids them!

They are described as "predatory" and "angry" and they can send off a signal to all their friends to come and attack you! I guess that might be ok, but for high school sports? Unprovoked? I don't think so. Here's a picture of these mean little buggers. You can read about them here.

I guess I should say don't run screaming from them, but if you hear or see someone running and screaming, get out of the way! it might be me.

The Shack

My friend Kathy gave me a book to read this past weekend. She and I often exchange books - we both have a love of suspense novels. So I assumed from her description of this book that was sort of what I would be getting. She told me it is the story of a guy who lost one of his children to a serial killer and years later he gets a note in his mailbox from a mystery person to meet him over the weekend at the place where his young daughter was killed - "The Shack".

While her description was spot on, it was sorely lacking. This is a very thought-provoking and absolutely controversial book. Most Christians I know would be having a field day heckling this book. It's all about this man that lost his daughter reconciling his relationship with God. It's all about forgiveness and choosing to lay down your pain and burdens.

At the end of the book there appeared to be an advertisement but upon closer inspection was a very clever way of promoting the book and it's website www.theshackbook.com. It suggested that you write in your blog about the book, which I initially rejected and though of as free publicity and promotion (which it is), however, the passage (below) I quote from the book touched me so tangibly I let that drive this blog.

I think the way the Holy Trinity is portrayed is on the kooky side - very "Unitarian Church". The images of Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit the author chooses to portray are way on the far side of "feel good" and not to my liking - nor did they feel very imaginative to me, but who am I to judge someones perspective on their relationship with God? My pastor tells me that most theologians have blasted this portrayal of the Holy Trinity as neither sound or correct. But there is goodness in this book. A wonderful message. It's a great read and I will read it again someday. One particular passage struck me very deeply and I will hold it very close.

Here is the direct quote from the last paragraph on page 185: God is speaking to Mack - the character in the book and he says: "Mack, just because I work incredible good out of unspeakable tragedies doesn't mean I orchestrate the tragedies. Don't ever assume that my using something means I caused it or that I need it to accomplish my purposes. That will only lead you to false notions about me. Grace doesn't depend on suffering to exist, but where there is suffering you will find grace in many facets and colors."

"Grace doesn't depend on suffering to exist ...". I needed to hear that. I needed that application in this story and in life. What a concept. I guess I knew it, but I needed it defined very simply like that. It's something I can really hold on to.

Thanks to William P. Young for writing "The Shack". Everyone should read it. with an open mind!

My first earthquake

Can I just say W O W! I've visited California several times and never experienced an earthquake. But I moved to Wisconsin and here I get to experience all kinds of new weather. Is an earthquake in the weather category? I really have no idea. But I could feel the Illinois earthquake that happened yesterday here at my home in Sturtevant, Wisconsin.

Here's how it happened at my house: it was the wee hours of the morning Friday and as usual I was disgusted with Mike and his snoring when he took it to an all new level. At 3:49 am I had enough and finally went to the other bedroom. I struggled with falling asleep for the thirty minutes or so and then blissfully began intermittently dozing and dreaming. Sometime after 4:30 am I woke to my bed just barely shaking - I thought it was Mike checking to see if I was awake and I tried to ignore him, but finally I said aloud - to nobody - "stop it!". Then I raised my head and realized there was nobody there. So I got up and went into my bedroom and there was Mike snoring away. I went back to bed wondering if I had a case of vertigo or what, but soon fell back to sleep. Later Friday morning - around 10 am I was driving to a friends house and was listening to the radio in my car and they were interviewing people about the earthquake, but I didn't catch where or when. Only when I got to my friend's house did I learn there was an actual earthquake in Illinois that registered a magnitude of 5.2 and could be felt hundreds of miles away. I don't know why I think this is cool, but I did feel it - it wasn't vertigo and it wasn't a dream and it wasn't Mike shakin my world.

Whats in a name?

I am singing in a new mixed quartet. Reed, Erin Dan and I. We've been at it a couple of months now. We're tying to come up with a name. Once you choose one you are stuck with it, so you want to choose wisely. I would like it to be clever. I prefer short, easily identified, easy to spell and pronounce. Lacking in "hokiness" is important to me too. When we rehearse I write in on my calender as "REDD" - Reed, Erin, Dan & Dianne. Nobody is going for that one. But we have to call ourselves something, right?

Some of the ones we have come up with that I like are: Beyond Words; Pass Me Not; Lost and Found; Follow the Leader; Off the Page; No Other Name; Testament; and so many more.

But as yet we haven't agreed on one.

Whats in a name? Got any suggestions?

Accentuate the positive

The preacher at my church challenged us to everyday name 100 ways the Lord blessed us. What a novel idea. It sure would accentuate the positive. So I though I would start trying. Here goes...

1. I am loved, even though sometimes I am clearly unloveable.
2. I have all that I need and then some.
3. I am healthy and whole.
4. My children are healthy and whole.
5. My husband is good natured.
6. I can rest on God's promises.
7. I have been through tough times and I'm still here.
8. I have been enjoying a respite from hard times.
9. I love my home and am happy to be there.
10. My husband is my home.
11. I am hard headed but I can learn.
12. I have many friends I love and feel the love returned.
13. I get to play piano and get paid.
14. I do not have to go without.
15. I live in a free country.
16. I do not live in fear.
17. I know where I am going when I die.
18. I know better than to take things for granted.
19. I am blessed with good friends.

This is a devotional reading I recently found. It is written by one of my favorite christian choral music arrangers - I think it's very good. I copied it from Randy Vader's website.

It Is Still A Wonder

This is a time of remembrance when the Body of Christ around the world observes the events that led to the last week of the earthly ministry of Jesus, the Christ. This is a time of triumph and tragedy, devotion and deceit, discipleship and denial. This is the season of the Cross. The journey that began before the foundation of the world, measured in terms known only in eternity, was finally measured in the tortured footsteps of the Master as He made His way to Calvary.

Calvary. It may seem that all of this occurred on a hill too far away, too far removed from our life to speak to us and our need for this great a sacrifice. We cannot stand in the distance and expect to experience the magnitude of the Cross. We must draw near. We must face what we can never understand. We must confront the ravaged, spotless Lamb to gain just a glimpse of our stain of sin. The Cross cannot be explained away. The Cross cannot be ignored. The Cross cannot be stripped of its cruelty and shame. The Cross cannot and will not be denied. We must approach and bear personal witness to the reality of the Cross to remove the slightest shred of doubt. To know once and for all - this must be true - this could not be myth or legend - for it is impossible to imagine the unthinkable.

He was wounded for our transgressions. He was bruised for our iniquities. The chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5

The invitation stands. . .come survey the wondrous Cross.

When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.

See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Issac Watts

Reading from Randy Vader and John Fischer
On A Hill Too Far Away

Reminders and Remembering

It's that time of year again. March - some call it March madness, which I sometimes think is applicable in my life. One of my most favorites things in the whole world happens in March! On March the 7th of 1982 something wonderful happened to me - Bradley Hilton - my little baby boy. He's 26 years old this year - hardly a baby. More and more like a man - a real man. With quirks and strength of character and all the wonderful things that make him uniquely Brad. I have always called him "my little God-send" since he came at a time when I needed something to ground me and center me and give me a little sanity. He did that as a child, for both me and my mother. From time to time he still offers me that grounding and centering, although he's no so much of the "sanity" anymore. He knows that March is a tough month and yet he never complains. He makes me proud everyday that I get to be his mom.

Sometimes March brings Easter - not very often, especially this early. But this is one of those years and I love Easter. It's a time of promise and a reminder of what Christ willingly did for us. And we all need to be reminded on a regular basis - that's the true and valuable way to stay "centered".

But then March has a cruel edge to it too. On March the 9th of 1996 Kelly died. So unexpected and randomly cruel. She just took a short ride in the wrong car and all her tomorrows ended abruptly. She would be 30 years old this year. I often wonder what she would be like? Would she go to college? Would she have a job that she loves? Would she find the love of her life and marry him? Would she have any kids? Would she call and visit often enough to suit us? Would she have a good sense of humor? These questions will never be answered. This year Mike and I purchased an anthem for the choir at my church to sing in memory of Kelly. We'll be singing that anthem in church this Sunday. It is titled "Be Still My Soul" - not the one you think you know though it is just as beautiful. This one was written by Kim Noblitt and it expresses the only way to get through the unexplained. You can hear in the video below.

Just 3 years later on March 25 of 1999, my mother died. It's not that it was so unexpected, but more unexplained. Sure, we know 'how' she died, it just doesn't explain why so young. She was only 67. That may not technically seem all that young, but when you couple that with the fact that she actually lost the capability the live her own life 5 years before at around the age of 62, it seems awfully young to me. She had Pick's disease and she spent the last years of her life with virtually no quality of life and absolutely no warning of what was coming. My husband will turn 60 on his birthday this year so 62 and 67 seem very young to me. She never got to enjoy her last grand-child, Savannah. She never really even knew she had her first great-grandchild, RaeAnne. She never knew Kelly died. She was still alive for all these events, but this disease was so cruel it robbed her of her life and it robbed us of the last few years of her life. It was difficult to watch it ravage her and then just as abruptly as the disease began, it ended and she was gone. I miss her still. She would be so proud of Brad, she would be so happy for Larry, she'd be fascinated to see how we all turned out and I know she's watching.

I guess what I am trying to say is March is full of madness - good and bad. Anyway I jumbled all that up into this video.