I'm here; I'm here.

It's been a long time - yes - but when life grabs you and whips you around you kinda have to let go and let God, you know? I am moved to explain the fact that I thrive on my relationship with God. It's what gets my blood pumping, and out of bed every morning. I am daily amazed by His presence and by the truths of His grace, mercy, encouragement, and love for us. Some days, I am so captivated by Him - watching His hand moving in my life and the lives of my family - that I forget that time doesn't stand still waiting for me to be sated of this understanding. I'll never be sated. Perhaps that's why the optimism is inveterate. Perhaps that's why I have nothing to say during conversations rife with anger. Perhaps that's why I choose to let go and let God. It's powerful - not weak - to recognize your limitations and recognize a being who has none. It's purposeful - not ignorance - to believe that you don't know everything, that you don't have all the answers. It's peaceful - not fearful - to put your trust in the One who created you and loves you more than anyone else can. I truly believe that God knows the number of hairs on my head, what I did yesterday, what I asked for forgiveness for today, and that I'm going to ask for it again for the same thing tomorrow. I am drawn to Him morning-noon-and-night by a deep need for the unconditional love that only the grace of God can satisfy. In a fit of what was declared 'teenage drama', I declared to my oldest brother that "I think God gives us our teenage years to search for something - and He wants us to find Him". I don't think that's such a dramatic statement anymore.

"Ask - and you will receive; seek - and you will find; knock - and the door will be opened." Matthew 7:7


Today's conundrum: Will there ever be truth in advertising?

Future conundrum: Why do some people never apologize?


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(Stamps foot and sighs)

I remain optimistic...
...because I believe that we will always be attacked for ___________ (insert reason here).
...because I believe that we will always be persecuted for ___________(insert reason here).
...because I believe that it will always be about power, not ____________(insert reason here).
...because I believe that it will always be, until He comes again.

Anyone else tired of - but optimistic about - all of this?


Today's conundrum: When will our self-righteous media ever realize that they are one of the greatest enemies to our safety? Further, will they ever get sick of their own self-aggrandizement? Will we?

Future conundrum: Will the real Wonkette please stand up?

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Seriously, folks

Whatever happened to good, old-fashioned confidence? Is it just me, or are we always at odds because we are always uncomfortable in our lives, in our skins, in our communities? Can we not feel vital until we've been important? Have we come to expect to be always at odds with someone about something or someplace? Are we living in the literal Mudville post-Casey's defeat? Our little neighborhood in a quite town of some 15,000 has decided to create a gateway to the "subdivision", including a sign, "plantings", etc. The idea of a "gateway" bothers me. A lot. There, I said it. We moved here but nine months ago and chose our home for many reasons, not the least of which was that it was NOT in a "named community" - a rarity in this little burg. Without it's name, known only to the county auditor and those willing to look-it-up, it felt unpretentious, non-nouveau riche, not hopelessly and desperately seeking attention. It felt like a natural part of the town - meant-to-be and unashamed to be un-named. The proposal to call attention to it now seems vulgar. Currently, as cars and people pass up and down our streets, I think nothing of it. When the sign goes in, and the citizenry pass through, I will feel...embarassed, like we are having to shout from the roof-tops, or out the windows of our cars, or from the signage at the "entrance" of our neighborhood that we belong - just like the rest of you - to this community and we will be heard. I want to ask: what is the big deal? (I'm sure some would ask that of me as well.) Why draw attention? Are we not secure enough in our own little world to not care who knows about us? Do we need to be able to say - "oh, we live in ..."? While I will grant that a patch of grass with a stop sign, a street sign, and a rock are not too asthetically pleasing, that patch of grass without a "subdivision" sign is a sigh of relief that at least one neighborhood feels comfortable enough with itself to leave the name-calling out of it. Perhaps it's the teenage rebellion in me still which hates to be pigeon-holed or found typical. Perhaps it's that fact that we moved from an area of the country known for its subversive segregation. Perhaps it's because I can't get behind something that screams for attention, unless it's a two-year-old which then enjoys the luxury of my understanding. Perhaps it seems so sad and perhaps not worth my attention. (Sigh.) Nonetheless, I am rebelling over a sign. Don't tread on me.

Today's conundrum: Is it wrong to want world peace? Does that make you a complacent know-nothing?

Future conundrum: Is it wrong to not care about world peace? Does that make you a complacent know-nothing?

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One Giant Leap for tIO...

It's not that I can't commit. I'm married. I have children. I have a mortgage and furniture that cannot be moved under cover of darkness or without assistance.

It's not that I won't adapt. I have a whole set of adapters to use whereever I am with whatever appliance I choose. And I know what Bluetooth is and how to use it.

It's not that I haven't tried. I have this blog, don't I?

Too many technological demands are required of us these days. Should I post on my blog? Should I create a space on My Space? Should I finish that draft for the web site? Should I read "the Borrowers" to my children? We've just finished reading "Farmer Boy" and it certainly does something to you to be reminded of "the simpler times" when "free time" was not some arbitrary concept of a much-sought-after way to live. They may not have jetted cross-country in hours, but those who had less access then weren't bombarded with minute-by-minute reminders of what they were missing just five miles away. We, on the other hand, feel left out if we don't know what's going on in Namibia or can't connect with someone - anyone - within seconds 3500 miles away. This passion to connect (and to be connected, both literally and figuratively) drives us to desperation and distraction. It seems to me that "in the olden days", people put their heads down and did what was necessary to exist - hopefully happily and well - right where they were. We are admonished to "live in the present" and "spend quality AND quantity" time and "have it all" NOW! Reading anything historic leads me to believe that their lives were very present indeed. See Bedel for further reference.

This is my struggle: to put my head down and do what is necessary, both happily and well. I've been deemed an "early adopter" by the neural networks, and - while a but impressed with myself for that - wonder what I did to merit the moniker. I just can't get my head around the best uses of our time. It's a tough spot to be in, especially when I'm charged with raising children who need to learn the value of spending your time wisely. Inevitably, I return to what I know - reading, making music, throwing a ball into a glove or through a hoop, cooking and baking, knitting and sewing - and less to what has come to be, e.g. anything that plugs in. Not very savvy, if you ask me. My children are entering into a new world, one that I'm not sure of and not fully a part of, and I want them to not only be active but succeed. Perhaps it boils down to my needing to be brave, and go into this new world. So, here I am taking the leap. Look out...

Today's conundrum: Aside from our faith, how do we inject a sense of permanence into a "world gone disposable"? Perhaps the permanence we seek isn't found without our faith that this world will pass away and all things will be made new. They will be made new. They will be made.

Future conundrum: I have these tiny bugs - springtails - which are neither harmful nor destructive. I have yet to uncover their purpose. How is it that something is not harmful, not destructive, and seemingly without purpose? Why are we wired to need a purpose? He is clever, non?

Thanks for perusing this blog. Blog you again soon!

The first "post-game analysis"

Blogging, blogging. blogging. It can be a full-time job (not that I would know).

Here we are in the full bloom of May. Anyone else out there under water? My older son stated very matter-of-factly: "God must have plans for all of this rain. But do you think He wants to rain-out ALL of my games?"

We are a Little League family. Given my adoration of the sport, you must imagine how I feel when it hits me every game day that I have a Little Leaguer. Jubilation! I worried about what kind of sports parent I would be. Would I be the one screaming from the sidelines, or pacing behind the bench, or throwing the first punch?

I needn't have been concerned. I was raised by two people who love sports, and who, more importantly, are sportsmen. (PLEASE NOTE: Gender neutrality is observed in all TIO blogs.) My father was a coach - who also instilled a love of the game in his players. Do your best. Have fun. Run it out. Hustle on and off the field. Cut your hair and wipe the dirt off your lip. My mother was the consumate fan - who also kept those around her both informed of the count and the best stain removers and hand sanitizers. Cheer for your team. Never boo anyone. Bring snacks. Don't leave before it's over. They both believed in writing on home-run balls, hot showers for sore muscles, and rewarding effort with kindness and a pat-on-the-back - but rarely ice cream.

So where do I fall? I surprised myself. During the first game, I video-taped my older son's first Little League at-bat, which resulted in a run. I set-up chairs for my younger son and myself, and sat - cheering for each player on both teams - until the game was called for darkness. Then, as it was our turn to bring them, I got up and handed out the snacks to the team. More accurately, I opened the boxes of rice-crispy-treats and CapriSun Sport drinks and stood back to avoid being trampled. The surprise for me was this: I wasn't nervous for him. I didn't think that he was succeeding or failing - regardless of what I did. It's not about me. Further, I don't want to go out there and do it for him. I thought I might. This is his sport to learn - and love - now.

Post-game, my son was giddy, and his younger brother asked him repeatedly how baseball was (to play). "Is it good, John? Is it fun? Is baseball good?" His reply made me misty: "It's the best fun ever, Teddy."

Today's conundrum: Have we become a "my way or the highway" society? Parenting is rough when you're fighting against this societal phenomenon. We all struggle with pride. We all want to feel/be important. But when your child is astute enough to question the difference between obedience and a need to control, where do you go for back-up? I don't want every moment, every decision to be a battle. That's just silly. But, I do want a balance between their "coming to heel" and becoming responsible people. I think back on my life and wonder how I made it this far. Stupidity is sometimes masked by youth and inexperience, you know. But still, how do you govern your home without vascilating between being a Shrek and a pollyanna? The "Golden Rule" still rules as a better way to live, I think.

Future conundrum: Is it possible to have a meal entirely comprised of food with the word "pop" in the names, e.g. popcorn, Poptarts, popovers, soda pop? Is this responsible? Is this healthy? Comment to your heart's content.

Thanks for perusing this blog. Blog you again soon!