Friday, Rainy Friday

Since I am no longer one of the 500 million Facebook users; I have accumulated a number of photos I want to share. They aren't necessarily relevant to any of my blog entries; nor do they command a dedicated blog post...but I do want to share them. Given that today is Friday, I am kind of lazy, it is raining and I smashed my finger (something wicked) I figured it might be a good opportunity (ouch...there are a lot of /o/ in that last sentence and that is the smash-finger key on the keyboard) to post photos rather than words....

"All the angels on the wire,

Getting dizzy from the heights,

Go carefully, carefully,

Oh, Airstream Driver." -Gomez

This pedestrian bridge is new. It links a new section of campus housing to the corresponding parking lot. I would have loved to see some water flowing underneath the bridge; or a little pirate troll; but instead it goes over a dry creek.

Here are a few more photos from our day of fun in Bandera, TX. I liked the rustic house and door frame. I thought it was an old front door. Turns out it was a side door to a stone cottage. Around the corner was an amazing front porch and it looks the cottage is being refurbished.

I couldn't pass up an opportunity to take a photo of this squashed up Coors can. The graphic element of a Coors can reminds me a lot of my childhood. Frightening, I know, but there must be a reason this image figures so prominently in my childhood memories. I know my great-grandfather was a beer distributor and my grandfather was in his employ; but I can't remember if Coors was one of their products. Maybe this was just my dad's beer of preference when I was a little girl?

I have a thing for tricycles. Again, I think they remind me of being a little girl and feeling free; breeze on my face, wind through my pigtails.

Does this bicycle have any hope of being operational ever again? It reminded me of the Tin Man, constantly needing to be oiled. Maybe it just needs a heart?

Indeed Bandera, Tx is the Cowboy Capital. We saw people riding their horses down the main street. Every establishment had hitchin' posts and water troughs for the horses.

Check out the super, fantabulous, Stella & Dot necklace I had the pleasure of modeling at Christine and Julie's Stella & Dot party. Also....do I look like a chipmunk, or what? I am storing some sort of nuts (don't be dirty...that's what she said) in one side of my mouth...but not the other? Classic!

Sara and Danica at Stella & Dot Party.

The Best Hamburger I've Ever Had.....

Here's the bad news: The best hamburger I've ever had is not in San Antonio. Here's the good news: It is just up the road (and the PERFECT way to round out a day trip) in Bandera, TX.

A little over two weeks ago my friend, Cory and I, took IH-10 up to 46, hung a left and enjoyed the view. We hung another right at 16 and enjoyed the view en route to Bandera, TX. We were STARVING but were committed to eating the BEST fare Bandera had to offer. We figured the main street would be our safest bet. We stumbled into the general store and asked the gentleman at the counter. He firmly told us to head back out of town about five miles and look for Five Mile Creek on the right. We figured, "What's five more miles? If we are going to do this; let's do it right!"
At noon, on Sunday, we pulled up to this building. There was not a car in sight. However, the sign at the door indicated they were "open." We pushed open the front door and were greeted by the owner and the cook. They assured us they were open and promised us the coldest beer we've ever had. (And oh, did they deliver on that claim. The ice was melting off the bottle and onto my hand!)

Fried mushrooms seemed a logical choice for our appetizer. They came out of the kitchen steaming hot. We sat there and looked at them adoringly, almost frightened to dig in. I made the first move and they were fried to perfection.

While Cory couldn't make a decision to save his life; I went with the basic classic all American, no fuss, no muss burger with American cheese. I won't cheapen the experience with words; to describe it would do the burger no justice whatsoever. What I will say is the combination of Bob Seeger and Bob Wills, the Eagles and Waylon Jennings, a cold beer and the mushrooms, the peppery burger and the cowboy couple next to us, the fluorescent lights and the pool tables, the football game and the fake slot machines, the weathered owner with her Virginia slims and the amiable cook and his family came together on a beautiful Sunday! It did my heart good and as always the conversation was challenging, thought provoking and much appreciated!

Thank you, friend! We both know I needed a day of fun, food and great Texas backroads. (Just like the old days!)

Suzanne, the owner, shared with us that she felt this saloon was just an extension of her living room. She invited us back and asked us to bring our friends along. Once the weather is more tolerable they have live music (local bands) on Wednesday and Sunday evenings. If you have a "hankering" for some small town Texas flavor in the form of burgers and beers...you can't go wrong at....................

Rory: Not a soul mate?

Lorelai: He's never heard of AbFab!

Rory: DEFINITELY NOT a soul mate!

Good evening, friends! I have the evening to myself and am planning on watching Letters to Juliet! Bring out the Kleenex. I am such a sucker for a chick flick!

Three Little Words

Today I celebrate three little words. The words are "I love you." Without question I have heard those three little words more often in the past few months than ever before. Now...that's not to say that those words were EVER missing from my life. Quite the contrary. I grew up in a home where "I love you" was often expressed between my parents and between my parents and I. I have been in several relationships where love was verbally expressed and goodness knows I have a number of cherished friendships where the words "I love you" are exchanged with sweet and meaningful frequency.

I have no real understanding or explanation for why "I love you" has been landing on me with greater consistency and from a variety of individuals. All I can come up with is maybe I just haven't been listening? I have prayed for an open heart, open eyes and open ears for some time now. I have also prayed to be a more open "receiver" of love. Maybe this is God's answers to my prayers....but I suspect the words have been there all along. I just needed to open up to hear them....and believe I was worth receiving them.

Last night I had the sweetest dream. Someone important told me they loved me. And in the dream I said, "Thank you." I'd like to think that expression was true and real and that even in my dreams I can be open to receiving love.

"I hope that I find what I'm reaching for the way that it is in my mind....

But I won't let it change me; not if I can.

I'd rather believe in love.

And give it away as much as I can to those that I am fondest of."

- Waylon Jennings (and also Cowboy Junkies)

Goodnight dear friends! Tomorrow I challenge you to express your love to someone....maybe someone new. It might make all the difference in the world!

The next blog entry will be far less sappy! I am excited to introduce you all to the best hamburger I have ever eaten in my entire life.............

Christianity In Contemporary Life

Hang on friends, this one is going to be a long ride.

Shortly before the fall semester of my junior year at Southwestern two deaths occurred that would have a significant impact on my life. My grandfather died days before fall semester began. In fact, he died as I was driving back to Georgetown to get the fall semester underway. I had probably been back in the apartment for a few hours before my father called to deliver the devastating news. I remember heading over the KA house and literally drowning my sorrows. I drank cheap college beer until the sun rose. I caught a few hours of sleep and drove back home.

Another man, I didn't know, and whose name I can't even remember, died around the same time. He was the department coordinator of religious and philosophical studies at Southwestern University. I was enrolled in one of his classes called "Christianity in Contemporary Life" for the upcoming semester...but only because I HAD to take two classes in religion in order to meet the requirements of a "liberal arts" education.

I remember the faculty and staff rushing to fill the position for the year. In fact, I think the first few classes were taught by a "substitute" professor. Finally, it was announced the university had filled the slot with a Greek Orthodox Priest from Bastrop, TX named Brant Pelphrey.

What did I know...I heard the word "priest" and assumed he was Catholic like every other "priest" I knew. However, he was married. To be honest, I was too wrapped up in my own stuff to even ask how he was a married priest. I just showed up to class, I needed the credit. It was plain and simple.

I will never forget the day he walked in the door. He was tall and lanky, slightly knock kneed and denim had exploded on him from head to toe! The only thing breaking up all that denim was a sweet tie that I am certain was in some reverence to Christ.

He did present us with a syllabus; but that was an exercise in futility. The only thing we stuck to was reading Dostoyevsky's Brothers Karamazov and writing a paper about it. One day he met me for coffee in "The Pirate's Cove" because I was having a tough time sorting through the novel. As with any good Russian novel; just getting the names sorted out requires a Ph.D.!

Basically, every M-W-F, for 50 minutes, he would inspire us to notice "Christianity in Contemporary Life." To be entirely frank I wasn't always sure where "he was going." I mean....a 20 year old brain is still developing and his big picture of how Christianity can and DOES exist in contemporary times was a concept too broad for my limited mind to comprehend. What was completely obvious to me was that this was a special person. His presence was soothing and comforting. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time; but I can now see that Dr. Pelphrey was filled with Christ's love and the Holy Spirit seemed to sit right on his chest and shine a light on you that left you with the warmest feeling of acceptance blended with love and forgiveness. He was truly a beautiful man....in the way beauty should really be defined.

Two of his classes, in particular, stand out to me. One day he arrived with a tape recorder. He walked directly to the back of the room without a word. He bowed his head and pressed play. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "I Have a Dream Speech" breathed from the small speakers. His head never moved; he remained bowed in reverence to Dr. King allowing God to speak through him. I watched him and I thought, "He is treating this like a prayer." 30 college students sat in stunned silence. We "watched" him "listening." When the speech ended he dismissed our class. Christianity in Contemporary Life....Christ speaking through Dr. King about the basic commandment to love one another as He loves us. I am embarrassed to admit this....that day....I didn't "get it." I walked out silently and thought, "This class is going to be a breeze!"

Perhaps my favorite hour of class at Southwestern University was the day he brought in yet another tape recorder and we listened to Willie Nelson's "Till I Can Gain Control Again." It started....

"Just like the sun over the mountaintop, you know I will always come again. You know I love to spend my morning time like sunlight dancing on your skin."

My first thought was my Grandma Olga who loves to go out into her backyard and pray every morning...something about the sunlight dancing on her skin, I suppose. Anyhow...he allowed the entire song to play....and it is not a short song. Again, the class of teens and twenty somethings sat in silence; what I can imagine was mostly confused silence. Again...how many of us could really know what he was trying to teach us?

After the song ended he softly asserted that most love songs could be interpreted within the context of God's love for man and man's love for Him. He played a few more Willie Nelson songs and Iris deMent songs, as well. But I went home that afternoon and played "Till I Can Gain Control Again" over and over. (I am listening to it right now, as a matter of inspiration!) Here is the chorus:

"Out on the road that lies before me now....there are some turns where I will spin. I only hope that you will hold me now.....till I can gain control again."

I took Dr. Pelphrey's class the spring semester, as well. But for the life of me, I can't remember the title of it. I know I wrote a paper about angels. That's really all I can recall.

During his short time he developed a following of faithful young Christians who all had one thing in common; and that was "Christ was Truth." As he gained popularity administration seemed scared and uncomfortable. It was made VERY evident that his position was only for that one school year and that he would not be asked back. Students gathered in the chapel to pray that his extension be granted. I didn't understand how this kind and gentle man could be persecuted by his contemporaries. I didn't know much as a twenty year old, but I knew that God was real and I didn't "get" that God isn't always necessarily welcome at institutions of higher learning despite their religious affiliations. What I saw was ugly and in a very deep place I knew he was being treated "wrong." I understood the "year long contract" business; but I didn't understand how an entire group of adults (adults my parents trusted with their daughter, her guidance, her education and edification and most importantly, their money) were behaving in such a gross manner.

Given Dr. Pelphrey's complete devotion to Christ you can imagine how he reacted. He stood firm and gracious. He remained silent in the face of his persecutors (does this sound familiar?) because he know The Truth.

He was not asked back. I had heard that afterward he made plans to take his message to China. We were all certain he would die for Christianity. I think we were mostly shocked we actually KNEW someone willing to give his life for Christ. My friend Cory recently told me he had heard Dr. Pelphrey returned safely from China. I have no idea where he is now. I would love to sit down over coffee with him and tell him how after 15 years his message has never left me...and has finally become clear to me.

Over the last 15 years...EVERY time I hear a love song...I spin it into "The Pelphrey Context." Indulge me as I share a few of my favorites with you.....

"When you break down, I'll drive out and find you. When you forget my love, I'll try to remind you. Stay by you, when it don't come easy....when it don't come easy." -Patty Griffin

"And I will always love you. You'll always be mine. Forever and always...till the end of time. Till the mountains split open with the weight of 'the Son;' we'll rise up together; as one." -June Carter Cash

"When the road gets dark and you can no longer see; just let my love throw a spark and have a little faith in me." -John Hiatt

"It took a while to understand, the beauty of just letting go." -Patty Griffin

I could go on forever; but you get the picture. It doesn't have to come from The Hymnal to reflect Christianity in Contemporary Life. With the onslaught of rubbish in our contemporary life, it is nice to be able to find just a little glimmer of Him in the things we enjoy.

As a side note; the following year I was selected to participate in Southwestern's Study Abroad Program in London, England. Part of the application process required two recommendations from faculty members. I asked Dr. Pelphrey to write my recommendation. I have no idea what he wrote. While in London I was sharing a pint with one of the professors on the selection committee....a wonderful man....a math professor. He told me, "I almost didn't recommend you for this program because you asked Dr. Pelphrey to write your letter. I am glad I went with my gut. I am glad you are here in the program." I felt so sad for that man in that moment. He missed the opportunity to know a decent man....

Patty Vela is In it to Win It

Friends I am so tired I can barely keep a thought together. Any attempt to throw some words onto this screen is going to be feeble, at best. However, in an effort to try to keep the blog updated more frequently I humbly offer you a..........

"It's bittersweet, more sweet than bitter, bitter than sweet. It's a bittersweet...surrender"

Big Head Todd & The Monsters

and a.............

Babette: Is there a problem?

Lorelai: Nothing Shakespeare couldn't write a really good play about!

When words fail you....it's always best to borrow someone else's (Did I use that apostrophe correctly? I need an editor...)! Goodnight sweet friends. Today has wiped me out! I look forward to a good night's rest and some sweet personal time tomorrow evening. What to do? Work out? Pedicure? Read? Gilmore Girls Marathon? The possibilities are infinite!

Tropical Depression Hermine

Dear Tropical Depression Hermine,

Even though the word "depression" is included in your dubious title, YOU did NOT get me down today because I prepared for YOU! Yes, YOU Hermine, were on my radar long, long ago (yesterday morning) and I stockpiled, I reconnoitered, I gathered intelligence, I strategized (brown vs black and what goes best with the school uniform?), I pillaged, I cut in lines, I weaved in and out of check out lanes in anticipation of your quick moving storm clouds and red and yellow colored rain bands! Today was great, Miss Hermine, mostly because I got to mock your name, but also because I purchased and wore my new wellies! And you know Hermine, hard as you might try to dampen my spirits, in the end I WON because they were 20% off with my work badge at Stein Mart!

Thank you for visiting, Hermine. Because of you I gathered more rain water than I could use in a week and will water my sweet plants that were under shelter all day. We are done with you and wish you well along your merry track.

Love,

Patty

Frankly, Mr. Shankly....

Happy Labor Day! Today was an exciting day at the Patty Vela house (or "Stars Hollow" as I like to call my house). I had my pond cleaned and serviced....BY A PROFESSIONAL! Kris and Lisa Jilek arrived early and within an hour and a half had my sad, broken, algae-laden, lonely, withered pond singing once again! In addition to cleaning and servicing the pond; they gave me one of their sweet goldfish to keep my lonely fish company. And they shared one of their plants with me so I now have an OFFICIAL pond plant! (And apparently this one will bloom beautiful yellow flowers!)

If you are looking to have your water feature serviced or are interested in creating a water feature; I highly recommend Kris and Lisa!

Happy Monday, friends! Ohhhhhh! The Velvet Underground version of Sweet Jane (that one is just for you Janie Worth!) just popped up on my Talking Heads station. Such precious memories. What a wonderful way to end this post. A lot of personal soul work will be taking place this week. I ask that you all keep me in your prayers and I ask for one, very specific prayer....I ask that you pray for me to learn to receive love. All types of love....and I will pray that for each of you. So simple, yet a difficult thing to do...isn't it?

Days of Rest

Today I am grateful for two days of rest. Jace' and I have a thing we call "Going MIA." Essentially I have gone MIA for the last day and a half and while that may seem strange to others; it isn't strange to me. (Nor is it strange to Jace'!)

I wish I could say that during the last day and a half I have done anything worthwhile. But the truth is, I haven't. I DID get my hair cut and colored (thank goodness...the grays were coming in BIG TIME). I also played around a bit in the backyard; but beyond that NOTHING of any great significance. I watched a movie called Multiple Sarcasms which was of little help. Story about a man with a perfectly GREAT life, great wife, neat kid and he throws it all away and doesn't do anything about it except write a play about it. I wanted to like him but I was mostly disgusted by how selfish he was and how many people he hurt....and was doing it WILLINGLY. So....I guess I don't recommend it....unless you just want to appreciate some amazing performances by Timothy Hutton, Dana Delany, Mira Sorvino, Stockard Channing and Mario van Peebles.

I have started to dip my toes into the chilly Silent Auction waters. Though mostly just ideas right now; the ideas are at least starting to take shape and force themselves into action. It feels sort of like auto-pilot right now. The beautiful part is that I have an ENTIRE village of support and I know that Silent Auction will be a success simply because of my circle of support!

Okay....this blog is taking a dip into a place I NEVER intended it to go. Remember...this is only about daily celebrations! So...it is time for me to stop typing, re-group and realize all that is right with this day.

The World Was Movin'.....

"And she was looking at herself.

And things were looking like a movie.

She had a pleasant elevation.

She's movin' out in all directions.

The world was moving; she was right there with it; and she was.

The world was movin'; she was floatin' above it; and she was." -Talking Heads

Southern Rain....

Finding a pair of vintage cowboy boots seems to figure into my life at rather critical moments. The times when my soul feels raw and gritty; I always seem to come across a pair of vintage boots in my size and at an incredible price. Look what I found yesterday in Bandera, TX.

"I've heard that into every life a little rain must fall. If there's any truth to the saying; Lord let be a Southern rain." -Cowboy Junkies

Eating, Praying, Loving

"A good rule of thumb is you can never have too much ice." -Luke

With the overwhelming, in-your-face, popularity of Eat, Pray, Love I felt compelled to jump on the band wagon. Ciara had sent me the book ages ago and I figured I would read it prior to the movie premiere. To be completely honest, I only made it half-way through the "Italy" section before I was invited to the movie. However, I did have the opportunity to read Elizabeth Gilbert's account of her first pizza in Naples. Her description was exact and precisely as I had remembered it. Eating a Neopolitan pizza is almost a religious experience. When she says she "is having a relationship with" the pizza...I completely understood!

The closest I can get to the experience in San Antonio is Il Sogno. Chef Andrew Weissman comes exceedingly close to "the real thing." I encourage all of you to experience pizza as it was originally intended in one of San Antonio's finest restaurants!
I am signing off for now. The Emmy's Red Carpet show is on and I am having a very hard time typing and actively analyzing the outfits. So far...LOVING January Jones! Happy Sunday dear friends. This week will be a very busy one, thank goodness. I welcome the "busy-ness!"

Back to Square One and Not Ashamed

The inception of this blog is no secret. I needed to mend a broken heart and find my purpose again. I had to find a way to FORCE myself from traveling down Avenue Bitter, permanently and instead make a left hand turn onto Get Up Off Your A** Drive! This blog was step one, campaigning was step two, reading The Shack was step three, forgiving was step four, Bible Study Fellowship was step five, Children's Bereavement Center was step six, The Story was step seven, Janie Worth was step eight....

I am back to square one. It is time to sink or swim. And friends, I am going to fly. Getting back to this blog is step one, actively seeking a campaign (I think I've got one) is step two, taking my tears to the chapel at lunch is step three, Oak Hills Community Church is step four, Silent Auction is step five, Bible Studies are step six, seven AND eight....and I am so excited and humbled to see how many more steps unfold for me through His grace.

I am ready to do the work that needs to be done. I am ready to face the hard realities and shine the light in the shadows I have been ignoring for years. This life is a gift and it is my responsibility to God is to live it to the fullest. It is also my responsibility to live it honestly and with honesty....most importantly to myself.

The last time I was in "this" spot I could not have imagined the majesty that would enter my life. Through mascara stains and swollen eyes I look forward to the gifts that await me.

Today I celebrate Sara, Christine, Jace', Danica, Becca and Rupa for giving me the desire to smile and laugh even when I really didn't want to. I can't be with them and NOT be happy. Today they were God's gifts! And Lisa was God's texting angel. Though a new friend, she has been one who has put a smile on my face every day this week! I am so blessed!

I came across this blog through a blog I previously posted about. The theme is green these days, as you can tell. This blog is a little more practical and offers information that is relevant to green household living. To visit this website click here. And let's just admit it....the design is just precious and catchy! I love it!

"You must always know how long to stay; and when to go." -Patty Griffin

(This is one of, if not my favorite quote in all music.)

Happy Saturday friends. I am off to bed. I am excited to join a Single Adult Bible study tomorrow morning. It will be my first visit! Then off to Bandera, TX with Cory! Road trip! Then...Emmy time with my gals. A full and exciting day.

A Steaming, Heaping Pile.....

"Rory, you are a person of great heart and great character. And that combination will always win the day." -Richard

The composting is finally a success! A winning combination of dead leaves, plants, coffee grounds, fruits, vegetable, egg shells, compost starter, a little moisture, a big plastic storage bin, a drill (the BEST part), patience, daily mixing and lots of friendly advice has led to the infancy of beautiful, brown, earth-i-ness. I can't wait! I was so proud I called Ciara (my composting goddess) and she said, "You must be good at turning rotten stuff into good stuff!" My response was, "Let's hope both literally and figuratively!" I know most won't understand the simple joy of my compost bin but this week's success has brought me an inordinate amount of joy. During tough times, it really is the little things, isn't it?

Happy Friday, friends. Today was extraordinarily enlightening and filled with self reflection. As a result, I am exhausted and going to lay my head down and not think as I drift off into sleep to the sweet lull of...you guessed it...Gilmore Girls. May you all have dreams as sweet as Star's Hollow.

Ouch! My Gnome Hurts!

I am no longer an active participant in the world known as Facebook. For numerous reasons it is best I lay low and keep the account deactivated. As a result....this is my one and only forum. So....for my 10 readers (the only 10 of you I was allowed to enter as update recipients) I must warn you I have had Gilmore Girls on a CONSTANT loop lately. (This is code for "Tough Times!")

My bed+My cats+My Gilmore Girls=Panacea For ALL That Ails Me

Today, I treat you to three "Gilmore-isms" from Season One. I figured I would just start from the beginning. This time I am probably going to run through all seven seasons...three, maybe four times. I am seriously considering developing the trivia board game. Perhaps that is how I might make my first "cool" million.

"Gnome kicking says a lot about a man's character." -Babette

"One wrong man can always find a friend." -Richard

"It's not official until you are huddled in a corner eating your hair." -Lorelai

Goodnight dear friends. This week has literally "kicked me in the gnome," no one situation in particular, just a combination of a few rather large events. (And please know, no one's character is in questions...I just thought it was a funny quip and a great excuse to put a photo of a gnome on my blog!) However, it can only go up from here. I believe the worst part has passed. I look forward to the weekend. There is a lot of heart mending, soul searching and joy finding on the menu. Let's hope I take my camera along with me!

This Helped Last Time

The only sure thing about luck is that it will change!

Goodness...I hope so!

I Like This Blog

One of the many nights I could not sleep...I came across this blog. Something Green can be located by clicking here. It is a wonderful guide for being the hostess with the mostest while still remaining true to your "green" roots! And for an extra bit of fun the pictures are inspiring! Enjoy......

I Can't Sleep

It is 4am and I am wide awake. This entire night has been disastrous! I was exhausted after a day at work and a decent work out at the gym. Around 9pm I settled into bed poised for blissful slumber. Instead, I found myself still awake at 11.30 mentally prying, hurling myself to sleep, to no avail. A friend called and asked, "Why can't you sleep?" I said, "Because I can't turn my brain off!" (That is ALWAYS the reason I can't sleep!) Further prompted, I was asked, "What are you thinking about?" The first thing out of my mouth was, "I am mad at Bill O'Reilly tonight." My friend chuckled. (Aunt Alfie-You can probably stop reading right about here!) Then I tried to think of other things on my mind, and wouldn't you know it, my mind went blank at that moment.

O'Reilly ruffled my feathers tonight (O'Reilly 1, Vela 0) by ranting on and on about Jennifer Aniston's new film, The Switch, in which her character chooses to become pregnant by artificial insemination through the use of a sperm donor. From what I can gather, she is a single gal, mid to late thirties, and wants the gift of motherhood so she (wait for it O'Reilly....gasp) MAKES HER OWN, VERY HARD DECISION, to become pregnant.

Given that it is 4am and I am a bit lazy and hazy with "the words" right now I am not going to articulate all the OBVIOUS points why Bill O'Reilly (just an over paid man with a really good parking space) has upset the WRONG woman in her mid-thirties this evening. Instead...I offer you a well articulated opinion I found on NPR's Facebook page as I rifled through Facebook at 4 in the morning!

Our conversation this week about children born through artificial insemination was very close to home for me.

I’m one of the tens of thousands of women who became a mother using a sperm donor.

With the high range of estimates finding that 60,000 American kids are born through donor conception each year – representing less than 2 percent of all births - I had hoped it was still too rare to draw the kind of Fox News debate that rages around issues like gay marriage. And so I’ve watched this issue become a hot topic in the culture wars with dread.

But that didn’t stop me from reading “My Daddy’s Name is Donor,” the report compiled by our guest Elizabeth Marquardt and her organization. It’s crucial for me to have the best possible understanding of the situation I’ve brought my innocent child into, so when it was first released, I spent hours reading every word, checking every number, studying every comment. And it confirmed that bearing and raising kids this way would be tough. But it also confirmed on every measure of dysfunction, a majority of these children turned out just fine.

As a consequence, I’m not sure why there are so many grave predictions for families like mine. And I reject the idea that most mothers conceive this way because they’re ignoring the difficulties. When I decided to have a child using artificial insemination, I knew I would have to find a way to deal with all those old fashioned folks who believe that a happy marriage provides the best home for raising children. That was especially tricky, because I was - and am - one of those people. I know what kind of challenges children face in single-parent homes. I was raised in one.

But I also know that being married when your child is born is no guarantee of a stable, two-parent home forever. Before I decided on artificial insemination, I pictured my alternatives: going on a mad hunt for husband with a one-item agenda and a stop-watch; or trying to convert a friend into a baby-daddy, a life-time partnership with no rules, blueprints or history of success. And even if that search panned out, I saw a 50/50 chance of ending up in the exact circumstances that faced my mother and so many other single and divorced moms: raising a child with a ghost dad.

For me – and for so many other kids I knew whose fathers weren’t around - what did the most damage was the emotional whiplash of having your dad there one day, and gone the next. On your 5^th birthday, he’d swoop in for a weekend of ballgames, movies, gifts and pizza, and then do nothing for your 6^th, a card for your 7^th, a gift for the 8^th, and back to nothing for the 9th. The suspense injects a little bit of poison into every celebration, every milestone, and every holiday.

If on one of those occasions, my mother had handed me a folder and said, “Listen, the reason your father didn’t show up is that - before you were born or even conceived - he signed this piece of paper agreeing to have no contact with me or with you until you turned eighteen,” that would’ve been better than what I had. And even with those issues, my mother provided a good home and raised my brother and me to be good and decent people.

I have faith I can do the same.

As an African-American child of a single mother, I’ve been hearing about the inevitable failure of my family and everyone in it for years. And thanks to endless web of relationships, I’ve gotten a front row seat to dysfunction that can develop despite the best of circumstances, and success that can grow, even under the worst.

Given what I know, I believe I can give my child a life worth living. And if I can do that, I don’t think it’s the government’s – or the culture warrior’s - business to tell me I can’t. http://www.npr.org/blogs/tellmemore/

Just Haven't Been In The Mood

I just can't get in the mood to sit down and blog! Ergh....inspiration...where are you?

On This Eve....

Tonight I opened an email from Max Lucado. I recently subscribed to his daily inspirational messages. This arrived on Sunday. I quickly glanced at it, thought it was too long, and closed it out.

This evening I was sending an email to my dear friend and guide, Janie Worth. I scanned my unread emails and found this message waiting for me.

On the eve of my 35th birthday, God could not have sent me a clearer message. I hope that each of you might find a sweet message that resonates with you. I have found that when I am most in need, God finds a way to send me just the right message....

HOPE

by Max Lucado

It’s one of the most compelling narratives in all of Scripture. So fascinating is the scene, in fact, that Luke opted to record it in detail.

Two disciples are walking down the dusty road to the village of Emmaus. Their talk concerns the crucified Jesus. Their words come slowly, trudging in cadence with the dirge-like pace of their feet.

“I can hardly believe it. He’s gone.”

“What do we do now?”

“It’s Peter’s fault, he shouldn’t have … ”

Just then a stranger comes up from behind and says, “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing you. Who are you discussing?”

They stop and turn. Other travelers make their way around them as the three stand in silence. Finally one of them asks, “Where have you been the last few days? Haven’t you heard about Jesus of Nazareth?” And he continues to tell what has happened. (Luke 24:13-24)

This scene fascinates me—two sincere disciples telling how the last nail has been driven in Israel’s coffin. God, in disguise, listens patiently, his wounded hands buried deeply in his robe. He must have been touched at the faithfulness of this pair. Yet he also must have been a bit chagrined. He had just gone to hell and back to give heaven to earth, and these two were worried about the political situation of Israel.

“But we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.”

But we had hoped … How often have you heard a phrase like that?

“We were hoping the doctor would release him.”
“I had hoped to pass the exam.”
“We had hoped the surgery would get all the tumor.”
“I thought the job was in the bag.”

Words painted gray with disappointment. What we wanted didn’t come. What came, we didn’t want. The result? Shattered hope. The foundation of our world trembles.

We trudge up the road to Emmaus dragging our sandals in the dust, wondering what we did to deserve such a plight. “What kind of God would let me down like this?”

And yet, so tear-filled are our eyes and so limited is our perspective that God could be the fellow walking next to us and we wouldn’t know it.

You see, the problem with our two heavy-hearted friends was not a lack of faith, but a lack of vision. Their petitions were limited to what they could imagine—an earthly kingdom. Had God answered their prayer, had he granted their hope, the Seven-Day War would have started two thousand years earlier and Jesus would have spent the next forty years training his apostles to be cabinet members. You have to wonder if God’s most merciful act is his refusal to answer some of our prayers.

We are not much different than burdened travelers, are we? We roll in the mud of self-pity in the very shadow of the cross. We piously ask for his will and then have the audacity to pout if everything doesn’t go our way. If we would just remember the heavenly body that awaits us, we’d stop complaining that he hasn’t healed this earthly one.

Our problem is not so much that God doesn’t give us what we hope for as it is that we don’t know the right thing for which to hope. (You may want to read that sentence again.)

Hope is not what you expect; it is what you would never dream. It is a wild, improbable tale with a pinch-me-I’m-dreaming ending. It’s Abraham adjusting his bifocals so he can see not his grandson, but his son. It’s Moses standing in the promised land not with Aaron or Miriam at his side, but with Elijah and the transfigured Christ. It’s Zechariah left speechless at the sight of his wife Elizabeth, gray-headed and pregnant. And it is the two Emmaus-bound pilgrims reaching out to take a piece of bread only to see that the hands from which it is offered are pierced.

Hope is not a granted wish or a favor performed; no, it is far greater than that. It is a zany, unpredictable dependence on a God who loves to surprise us out of our socks and be there in the flesh to see our reaction.

From God Came Near: Chronicles of the Christ
Copyright (Thomas Nelson, 1985, 2004) Max Lucado

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