Spring Fever

"Don't you know what that is? It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want--oh, you don't quite know what it is you DO want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so! It seems to you that mainly what you want is to get away; get away from the same old tedious things you're so used to seeing and so tired of, and set something new. That is the idea; you want to go and be a wanderer; you want to go wandering far away to strange countries where everything is mysterious and wonderful and romantic. And if you can't do that, you'll put up with considerable less; you'll go anywhere you CAN go, just so as to get away, and be thankful of the chance, too."

--Tom Sawyer, Detective, "An Invitation for Tom and Huck" by Mark Twain

Sweet

Today at church, Evan and I shared one of those moments. You know the kind I'm talking about--when you're so full of Jesus that you think you might just burst.  I hugged him and he leaned his head on my shoulder and I whispered, "Isn't church great?" He smiled and nodded and then replied, "When I was little, like about three years old, I didn't understand church. I didn't know what to do and I just waited for it to be over. But now I get it."

Like I said. Sweet. :-)

Anything But Facebook Update

I am doing well on my Facebook diet, but I had a little help this week. I finally succeeded in getting HP to send a box to our current address (rather than our previous one--took three attempts) so that I could send my laptop for warranty service. That means I now have to beg, borrow or steal from others to get computer access. Additionally, I spent most of the week on the road. First, Phillip and I managed a 27th anniversary getaway. Second, I went to Nebraska to pick up Trevor for spring break. Somewhere along the way I also picked up a cold. Welcome, spring!

So, here's my random thought for the day. I noticed during one of my Facebook visits (hey, I'm dieting, not fasting) that the internet (or at least my corner of it) was alive with chatter about the death of someone whose name I don't want to include here. It was a name I didn't recognize so had to look up, at which point I found myself wondering why? Why do so many of my Christian friends feel the need to mark the death of such a disturbed individual? (The person in question called himself a Christian but did some horrendous things, supposedly in the name of Christianity.) Wouldn't it be better to let his passing go unremarked rather than draw attention to it? It is a question I have asked myself at other times. Whether it's starlets behaving badly or preachers teaching falsely, it sometimes seems that we give these people a lot more of our time and attention than they deserve. I wonder what would happen if we utterly ignored them and spent the time saved on promoting and participating in those things we find to be more edifying, focusing on building up the true and the good rather than bemoaning the bad. Probably nothing would change in the world at large. But maybe our own lives would be the better for it. That would be something.

Smarter, Nicer People

The kind of reading discussed in this article used to account for the majority of my reading. It doesn't anymore, unfortunately. I am trying to rediscover the reader I once was, but it is hard. I find it difficult to shift from the fast-paced, scanning type of reading I primarily do online to the chew-and-digest-every-word type of reading I used to do all the time as lover of literature. These days when I do the latter type of reading, I have to consciously work at not skipping chunks of text and at soaking in the words the way I once did rather than merely extracting meaning from them. One of the nice things about a book, as pointed out in the article, is that there are no hyperlinks to turn your attention away from the page you're on (and no ads or Facebook notifications). It's just that page and nothing else. And if you turn off your phone and step away from your computer you might even get through that one page without a real world interruption. At the very least, the probability of doing so will increase. And as the link suggests, you will likely walk away a better human being.

Speaking of which, I think I'll close the laptop and read another chapter of The Little Prince. 

Some people sing in the shower. . . .

. . . I write. If only someone had invented a shower-friendly laptop, I would have surely been famous by now. ;-)

Thoroughly Modern Millie

A few weeks ago I started attending rehearsals for the local high school production of Thoroughly Modern Millie. I am serving as rehearsal accompanist right now and will play in the pit orchestra during the show's run in early April. Today we had our first rehearsal at the Performing Arts Center in downtown Broken Arrow, Oklahoma (no garden variety auditorium for this highly rated music program). It's an impressive facility! 

The Performing Arts Center was built by and for the school district but also serves as the venue for non-school productions and guest performers. Later this week my daughter Caitlin and I will be attending a concert and master class there featuring Kristin Chenoweth (original Broadway cast of Wicked), a Broken Arrow native.

Chenoweth's appearance will benefit local arts and education. I don't think it's her first time to make a significant contribution to the folks back home.

But back to rehearsal. I'm very glad I have been given the opportunity to participate in this production. So far I am quite impressed with the talent of the cast and the effort going into bringing this Millie to the stage. Here's my home away from home for the next few weeks.

I have to admit it leaves a little to be desired. (My fellow musicians will understand what in the picture below. For those who don't, the music rack was not big enough to support my book, which kept falling off or flopping over. Luckily, when the music director arrived, he found a free-standing music stand for me, which we put behind the piano for my book. A bit of a reach to turn pages, but a vast improvement over the original setup.)

Meanwhile, just a few steps away, there was this. Sigh. I guess that's show business!

A Taste of Immanuel

For those who are interested in what Okies do on Transfiguration, here's a sampling. I really like my new church.






Communion Sequence, Transfiguration Sunday from Cheryl on Vimeo.

My Sweet Boy

"I love you so much, Mom. I promise I'll never leave you. When I go to college, I'll stay in town. By that time you and Dad will be getting elderly and will need help with the chores."

Said amid tears while brushing his teeth last night. I just love this kid (even if he thinks the fifties are elderly). I didn't tell him there is a good chance he will feel different in eight years. :*)

Schola Cantorum Rehearsal

And in the "what I did today that mattered way more than Facebook" department, here are a few videos from our Schola Cantorum practice. Probably of interest only to you church music types. The first one is a favorite warm-up of this age group (first-fifth grade). It combines stretching and posture awareness with working on developing a unified head tone. The eager beaver who tends to try too hard by oversinging and jumping in when it's not his turn is, yes, my offspring. The second video shows the Cantor kinesthetically teaching the concept of terraced dynamics. The kids loved it.


Fold in the middle! from Cheryl on Vimeo.


Learning About Dynamics from Cheryl on Vimeo.

Anything But Facebook, Day 2

Don't worry--I'm not going to torture you, Chinese water style, with forty days of this. But a Day 2 report seemed in order. Here's what I discovered. Limiting what I look at on Facebook is not hard. Breaking the habit of looking at Facebook repeatedly throughout the day is. I created my "Close Friends" group (those 200 or so people I decided to keep track of), and that's all I've looked at yesterday and today. But the fact that there is not as much to look at as before has not curtailed my desire to look. I can only hope that the decreasing supply of my drug of choice (There's nothing new! Go do something else!) will eventually lead to a decreasing craving for it. Here's hoping. Otherwise, I may have to take more drastic measures. . . .

It's Called Volunteering, Not Employment

The definition of volunteering seems to have changed.

Yesterday I took Caitlin to the library to drop off a volunteer application. She is seriously considering a future in library science and would like to get more experience behind the scenes in a real library. She would also like to use her skills to contribute to her new community. While we were at the library, not five minutes went by before she was helping a patron find a book. It seems to come naturally to her: books lead to Caitlin, and Caitlin leads to books.

When the manager of the library came out from the back room to take Caitlin's application, her first question was, "How many hours do you need?" Caitlin paused, slightly confused. And then it dawned on me. The manager was assuming that Caitlin needed to fulfill a school requirement. It's common these days that high school students have to log service hours in order to graduate. I stepped in.

"Oh, she doesn't need the hours. We're homeschoolers. She's doing this because she wants to."

I thought that's what volunteering was all about: doing something because you want to serve, not because you expect to get something out of it. Silly me.

Anything But Facebook

A little over a year ago, in frustration over the 2012 election result, I decided to intentionally focus my attention away from politics and onto other, more edifying things. For a while I blogged about the things I was doing instead of politics, calling it the Anything But Politics Challenge. I think it's time to do that again, only this time not with politics, but with Facebook. I am still paying less attention to politics than I used to, and I think that has had a positive effect on my frame of mind. When something tends to cause more frustration and restlessness than not, it is time to reconsider its place in your life. So tomorrow, Ash Wednesday, I am kicking off my Anything But Facebook Challenge. It will coincide with the season of Lent, but I am not looking at it as giving up Facebook for Lent. In the first place, I am not going to totally give up Facebook. In the second place, I am hoping that at the end of my ABF Challenge I will find that I don't immediately revert to my previous ways. I would like this to be a permanent life change.

I joined Facebook in August of 2008. For a while it was just this thing that I didn't understand, a place I existed in name only because I never signed into my account. Over time I started spending more time "there." It was fun. It was often informative and sometimes intellectually stimulating. I liked having a place other than my blog to share things, especially things that seemed unworthy of blog posts. I reconnected with some people that I had lost track of, including the maid of honor from my wedding.

But over the years Facebook has become too important to me. And in the last few years, especially, it has become an escape. When day-to-day life becomes a source of increasing pain and confusion, it is nice to have a place to run to, a place where affirmation comes easily and where you feel like you have a bunch more friends than you do in real life. It is nice to have something to do when you can't find the energy or motivation to dive into the day. "I only have 15 minutes until _______. That's not enough time to do anything meaningful. I think I'll check Facebook." Before you know it, you're checking Facebook twenty times a day. Imagine if all those little 15-minute blocks were invested in other pursuits.

So here's my plan. I am not going cold turkey. There are people I want to keep tabs on. But, with apologies to my 500+ Facebook friends, I don't need to keep tabs on everyone. If I miss something, I have a feeling I'll survive until such time as I really need to know what I missed. So I am going to whittle that list of 500 friends down to the small group I actually tend to interact with regularly and with whom I truly desire to keep in touch. I am not going to unfriend anyone but instead will go from reading my news feed to reading a custom group. Into that group will go family, local friends, long-distance friends who are dear to me, and a few Facebook friends with whom my relationship exists only online but whom I have typically found to be a positive influence on my day. It's looking like the number in the group might be around 200, although I would like it to be even lower. For Lent I will only be checking in on that group, plus a couple of other private groups to which I belong. I also plan to limit my own posting to sharing links to my blog or videos plus no more than one other "share" per day.

I know. It doesn't seem like I'm giving up all that much. Shows you how high my Facebook usage has been if this is what cutting back looks like!

As with the Anything But Politics Challenge, I will do some blogging about the things that I am doing instead of Facebook. I don't know if I will blog every day. I would like to but am not sure I can keep it up for forty days.

I'm hoping that in addition to making more room in my life for things that matter, this Facebook diet will benefit my reading life. I used to be an English major. I ate books for breakfast. But between parenting and aging and life, I have trouble reading in depth anymore. I think Facebook bears a large share of the blame. Facebook trains the eyes and brain to scan, not read. I have found myself reading longer texts as if they were Facebook. It is very difficult for me to read every word of a blog post or newspaper article, and I think it's because I am so used to scanning that it is hard slow down and digest every word. Not only my reading but my attention in general has been affected, as I find it hard to concentrate for long on anything.

If you would like to join me in the Anything But Facebook Challenge, comment here and write a similar post on your blog. We'll do it together and keep each other accountable. (I like that idea better than this one.)

Win-Win

For a time when we lived in Illinois we had a subscription to the Chicago Tribune. We got fed up with that paper and discontinued it years ago. When we moved to Oklahoma we inherited the previous occupants' subscription to the Tulsa World. It has been helpful in getting to know our community, and my mom in particular seems to enjoy it. So when the subscription recently ran out, we renewed it. My mom is getting her crossword, Evan enjoys the funnies, and I am cutting coupons again. Plus, having a paper makes this possible:


Willard Gets the Paper from Cheryl on Vimeo.


Also, it's nice to have decent rubber bands again!

The Harsh Reality

"Mom, something just hit me."

"What, Evan?"

"Well, by the time we get all these boxes unpacked, we're going to be ready to move again."

 Thanks for pointing that out, honey. Not sure I would have thought of it otherwise. ;-)

The current state of our garage, not much different from a month ago. 

One week ago today . . .

. . . Caitlin and I were sitting in a ballroom at Southern Illinois University-Edwardsville, listening to presentations on financial aid, study abroad, and the honors program. Midway through the morning, Caitlin had her interview for the Meridian Scholarship. She wrote about the whole experience on her blog if you want to read a little more. I don't have much to add, except for this:

When we first arrived we were given name tags and a table assignment. When we went to our table, however, it was already full. We went back to registration to ask for instructions and were told that the table assignments didn't matter and that we should sit in any available seats. So we found a table with some room. Later that day, after all the students had left and it was just parents remaining, the parents took a little time getting to know each other. It turned out that all four of us at that table were there because our assigned tables had been full. As we conversed a little more, it also turned out that we were all homeschoolers! But wait, it gets better. The gentleman to the right of me was the son of an LCMS pastor. The young woman to my left, not a parent but a current Meridian Scholar who had been sent to hostess our table, was also Lutheran (ELCA), with a sister engaged to be married to a young man entering the St. Louis Seminary (LCMS) this fall.

We had such a wonderful lunch together. When we said goodbye I wanted to ask for everyone's contact info, but I didn't. I hope that if all our kids end up at SIUE we will meet again.

Go ahead and try to tell me this was a chance encounter. I dare you.

Cause for Celebration

Evan fell in the creek at the park yesterday.

He didn't cry.

He walked home in wet clothes.

When he got home, he calmly showed me the hole in his pants. He said, "I took a risk, Mom."

I smiled and gave him a thumbs up. For a highly sensitive child who is averse to risk-taking and prone to worry, holes and dirt are badges of honor.

Words, Words, Words

It happened again.

Someone, somewhere on the internet, used a word someone else didn't like.

I don't know the particulars of the situation. What I do know is that the situation was discussed at length elsewhere online, and the person-in-question's discernment and integrity questioned, without any mention of an attempt to approach him about his use of the word or to inform him that it had hurt someone.

I find this both sad and disturbing: sad because I love the written word but increasingly see the futility of much of it online; and disturbing because this could have easily happened to me. I didn't know the word at issue had become politically incorrect. In fact, I saw it used in print today, by a distinguished and respected scholar and columnist. I guess he didn't get the memo either.

I say this could happen to me. Actually, it has happened to me. I am not going to share particulars either of the current example or my past one, because I don't wish to get into debates about individual words. But what I would like to suggest is that if a word offends you, there are helpful and unhelpful ways to respond. If you sincerely believe the word to be offensive to a large number of people, you can go to the person who used it and, for his own good, suggest that he not use the word. In this case you would actually be doing him a favor. Maybe he will heed your advice; maybe he will not. But at that point you have done what you can, and it is time to drop it. If you want to appeal to the general public to avoid the word, by all means, do so. But make the focus of your appeal the word, and not the person or people who used it. Here's how you do that. Instead of rolling your eyes and asking what kind of clueless, insensitive dummy uses that word, issue a carefully considered and earnest plea about why you find the word objectionable and why you would appreciate people avoiding it. ("I saw the word _____ in print today. This word bothers me because . . . .")

Or, alternatively, you can choose to overlook. For my own part, I do this a lot. I have come to realize that I am more sensitive than most people about language. I think it is in part because I grew up in a home where words were frequently used as weapons. I compare it to having an allergy. I was exposed to great amounts of second-hand smoke growing up, and now I can't stand to be around cigarette smoke and have an immediate and strong allergic reaction whenever I am. In the same way, I grew up among frequent uses of profane and vulgar and just mean talk. I now have no tolerance for it, and I realize that this is my own issue. For me, "cra*" is vulgar, but for many people it doesn't seem to be. I can't abide the acronym "OM*" because to me it is nothing short of taking the Lord's name in vain. But I also realize that many people who use that expression don't hear it as such. I have expressed my opinion to my family and, whether or not they agree with me, they respect my position and in love don't use that phrase (and others) around me. If I see or hear the expression elsewhere I look the other way and remind myself that it is probably not the intent of the speaker or writer to break the Second Commandment or to offend anyone. If I choose to be offended, that is my problem.

I would like to think that it is still possible to have fruitful discussions online about things that matter. I increasingly doubt that to be the case. But maybe if more of us gave more thought to both our word choices and our reactions to them, we would come a little closer to the mark.

She's Back

And she has three posts so far. Go say hello, and encourage her to keep going.

north-north-west

Leaving Sodom

Oh, yeah. I have this thing. It's called a blog. :-)

I do hope to get back to more regular posting soon. And I hope when I do you're all still here. But for today, in lieu of my own currently non-linear thinking, I'd like to share a few blog posts I recently read. They are similar in that they both address the question of difficult times and how to get through them. The first post is not Christian or even spiritual (except for the suggestion to read an Eckhart Tolle book--you can disregard that) but has what I think are solid strategies for surviving the rough stretches. My family has gone through one of those rough stretches recently, and it was prolonged, including the illnesses and deaths of my husband's parents and several other beloved people, my mother's injuries and illness, my husband's job loss, financial challenges, family separation necessitated by job change, and the pain of broken relationships. At one point in our journey a dear friend and wise woman told my husband, "Expect blessing." Her words have proven prophetic as these days I wake up and pinch myself at all the things that are going right. Sometimes I worry about what is coming. Surely these days aren't going to last forever. But what is the sense in worrying about that time in the future when life will take another downturn? I am trying to enjoy the blessings of today as I leave yesterday behind and refrain from obsessing about tomorrow. I found this article, entitled "Eight Things to Remember When Everything Goes Wrong," to have some excellent suggestions on how to do that. Thanks to my friend Melody for linking it. Here are a few key sentences:

"Sometimes life closes doors because it's time to move forward."
"Don't allow your scars to hold you hostage."
"Rarely do people do things because of you. They do things because of them."
"The best thing you can do is to keep going."
"Don't let a hard lesson harden your heart."

Now, that's all very well and good, isn't it? But how do you move forward when you feel paralyzed? How do you quit living in your scars? How do you keep going when you want to give up? How do you not put a fence around your heart in an effort to prevent its being injured again?

Short answer: you don't. You can't escape the past. You can't escape the bad things that have happened to you and the people who have wronged you. And you can't escape your own sin. But it's okay, because you don't have to. You don't have to rescue yourself because there is One who has already done so:

"In this fight we are far from alone. We did not leave Sodom on our own initiative, our own will-power. Christ climbed over the city walls to rescue us, and then climbed back over, carrying us upon his shoulders. He bore us up into the mountains, and now, and always, never leaves our side. He knows the past fires that still burn in our chest, so he never tires of dousing those flames with the waters of baptism, daily drenching us with that divine dew. Sodom’s foolish ways he roots out to replace with the wisdom that comes from above, speaking his word over and over into us, to create new hearts and new minds within us, fashioned after his own, heart and minds devoted to higher things." - Chad Bird 

Read the full post here.   

Signs

I grew up in The South, but I have always resisted the generalization that Southerners are friendlier or more hospitable than people in other parts of the country. I tend to resist sweeping generalizations as a general rule (haha), but in the twenty years we lived in Illinois, I also met enough generous, warm, and welcoming people to belie the notion that Northerners are cold. Still, as I think about our icy, snowy drive from Illinois to Oklahoma a few weeks ago, something stands out. I don't know if it would have happened in Illinois, at least not in Chicago. Right before we crossed into Oklahoma, at a travel plaza located where Oklahoma, Missouri, and Kansas converge, we had to stop for gas. My elderly mother also needed a restroom break, which necessitated her getting out of the car and navigating an icy parking lot with her walker. As I helped her out of the car, a rather big, burly farmer stopped his truck and got out. "Could you use some help?" he asked. I told him I would appreciate it. He got on one side of my mom as I got on the other, and together we walked her all the way into the store. I know if she had slipped he would have not let her hit the ground.

But that's not the end of the story. After we finished our business in the store and came out, a woman who had just pulled up offered the very same assistance. Granted, my 18-year-old and 10-year-old were in the car and could have been drafted to help. But instead in both cases complete strangers stepped in.

It was a remarkable and symbolic welcome to our new state. Even so, the first night we spent in our new house, I didn't sleep much. I sat up and cried and thought about the place we had left and couldn't get the memories to leave me in peace. But with each day that passes, another act of kindness has made me feel more at home here. That incident at the Oklahoma border seems to have been a sign of things to come.

I am reminded of when we moved from Texas to Illinois 20 years ago. That move was filled with uncertainty. I had lived in Texas my entire life and now we were going to Illinois so that my husband could be a full-time church worker. What in the world were we thinking? On the first morning of our drive, as we crossed from Texas into Arkansas, we were greeted by a rainbow. We took it as a sign that God would bless our way forward.

I don't know if these things are indeed signs or if I am seeing in them what I want to see. But I do know that God always blesses His children. So I cling to the sign that I know is true, that of the cross made over me, my husband, and our children in our baptisms. And that is no overgeneralization.

Why I'm Not Posting Much

Last week

Today

Please tell me you can see progress, even if you can't.

Toto, we aren't in Illinois anymore.

The polar vortex picked us up and dropped us down in Oklahoma. Or so it seemed. We have no internet yet. I am posting from my phone. More soon!

Moving Day

I started out to write a Facebook status, but it got too long, so here's a blog post instead.

Today was moving day! Yesterday the majority of our house was packed. Also yesterday Phillip, Trevor, and our dog headed out. Today the moving van showed up around 9:00. It was a full day of nonstop packing, moving, and cleaning, and by 5:00 (I think) the van had left, fully loaded. Wow. Earlier in the day a friend picked up Evan and took him on a play date for the afternoon. Today of all days it was a great help to provide him with something else to do. But more important, it was a chance for the two Evans to say a final goodbye. Evan and his friend Evan first became friends when they were in preschool together. Although they have never gotten to see each other as often as I'm sure they would like, there is something special between the two of them. They have just always clicked. Thank you to my friend Anne for this parting gift of one more play date. I think your dropping my Evan off for the last time made everything real to me in a way that nothing to this point, not even the empty house, did. :-(

Since our beds are on their way to Oklahoma and it is late and we are exhausted, we are checked in to a hotel for the night. We will not be driving away until tomorrow--there are still some loose ends to take care of in the morning. But we got a great deal on a room, had some pizza, and will soon go to bed and try to get a good night's sleep. My mom has been a real trooper today. In another example of God's good timing, if we had sold the house and tried to move any sooner, I don't think she would have been as ready for this trip as she now is.

We will take two days to drive. Monday morning the van shows up and the whole thing plays out in reverse. I think the drive will actually be relaxing. Just sitting in a car instead of running this way and that, tending to this detail and that one, wondering if I'm going to remember the next thing I need to do. I can handle that!

There's No Place Like Home

Fourteen years ago today we closed on our house in the southwest burbs and Phillip carried me across the threshold to begin our Chicagoland adventure. In a few days we will leave this place for good. Ironically, the person who took the picture below fourteen years ago ended up being our real estate agent for the sale of our house this year. He wasn't a realtor back in 1999 but a friend, and he has remained one throughout our time here. How fitting that when we drive away we will leave our keys with him.

Our time in this house has always been, uh, shall we say, a bit complicated. It was definitely one of those love-hate relationships! We are not fixer-uppers and it turned out there was a lot about our new home that needed fixing up. Still, we learned to love her. Our children have spent the majority of their childhood years within these walls. Phillip and I have both lived here longer than in any other house our entire lives. Fourteen years adds up to a lot of memories. Those memories come with small print identifying the time and the place, and it is hard to leave the place behind without feeling as though you are also in some part letting go of the memory.

In another bit of symmetry, we are leaving Illinois a little over 20 years after coming here, and we are heading back to our southern roots. Leaving Texas was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I had a 10-month old baby and my father was very ill. Taking that baby and kissing his grandpa goodbye to move 900 miles away just about ripped my heart out. My dad died less than a year after we left Texas. But I know that coming to Illinois was the right thing at that time. I will never forget our first Christmas Eve at Trinity Lutheran in Peoria. Leaving midnight mass in an historic downtown church to a gently falling snow made this Texas girl feel like a character in a storybook. How fitting that as I write this, a New Year's Eve snow of 4-8 inches is predicted. Thank you, Old Man Winter. We'll miss you, too. And forever and ever I will look back on our Illinois story sort of like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz:

"But it wasn't a dream. It was a place. And you and you and you . . . and you were there. . . . and I remember some of it wasn't very nice, but most of it was beautiful--but just the same all I kept saying to everybody was 'I want to go home,' and they sent me home!"

Home, of course, is where your people are, and for us Illinois has been home for a very long time. Still, I do sort of feel like we're leaving the Emerald City to go back to Kansas (or in our case, Oklahoma), and I am very much looking forward to a quieter, simpler, slower, less technicolor life with all my dear ones gathered round. I pray wherever you are that you, too, wake up to a lovely, promising new year. See you in 2014!

"Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass." - Psalm 37:5

Last Walk

Today Phillip, Trevor, Caitlin and I took one final walk together in Illinois. Evan decided to stay home, which turned out to be a good thing, because this was almost a two-hour walk. We covered most of the ground we have trod for 14 years now, heading first to a park and then to a nature preserve not far from our house. We took Willard, our dog, with us. Willard is the third of our dogs to walk these paths (the first was Giselle, who came with us from Texas, and the second was Shiloh, who lived all of her nine years in Illinois).

Have you ever watched Survivor? We haven't watched it for some years now, but we used to. Toward the end of each season, the last few, remaining survivors take a final walk on which they stop, in turn, at torches representing the already eliminated players. At each torch they share a few words of remembrance about that player. We decided to spend our last walk in the Chicago suburbs similarly, pausing at favorite stops as we reviewed our time here. We spent the first half of our walk on the years 2000-2005, and the second half on 2006-2011. We ran out of time for 2012 and 2013 but decided that was a good thing since those years are still quite fresh (in some cases, too fresh). It was fitting that we had our two adult children on this farewell walk, as they were with us when we came to Chicago. We kicked off our northern Illinois adventure with a seven and four-year-old; we leave it with a twenty-one, eighteen, and ten-year-old. 

The pond.

Walking to the trout farm.

At the trout farm.

Heading back.

With the one who doesn't let me fall.

Home--for about one more week.

Christmas Day 2013

 Yay! Dad is home!

  I gave him a 23 and Me kit. (Caitlin looks like she is mad. She is not.)

That's a Wii U. That's a happy Evan.

 Thanks, Dad.

Willard, captive.

What every church worker needs: "The Art of Stress-Free Productivity." 

Thanks, Caitlin!

New Magic School Bus book from big sis.

I got a Keurig coffeemaker! (Thanks, honey!)

Phillip modeling the wrapping paper.

Father and daughter.

We had a joyous Christmas reunion. Phillip got home at about 4:00 Christmas Day. We enjoyed wassail and appetizers (shrimp, cheese and crackers) and then sat down for present opening (thank you to Evan for the chocolates, Trevor for the necklace, Caitlin for the gloves, and Mom for the slippers!) Then we chowed down on strip steaks, asparagus, and apple pie a la mode. Hard to believe this is our last Christmas in this house. One week from today the packers come. Two weeks from today we will be in our new home. I am practicing relaxation breathing, trying to enjoy one more day of Christmas before I turn to intense moving prep. Merry Christmas to all my readers! Thank you for your concern, interest, and prayers throughout the year. I hope that from time to time something I have written has provided you with a measure of encouragement or insight. I am humbled that you take the time to read. God bless you on this Feast of St. Stephen and throughout all the twelve days of Christmas and beyond!

On Flying

I have had to take a few more plane trips than usual this past year. It seems to be getting easier. When I was young I had no fear of air travel. I think I can pinpoint when that started to change. At the time I was pregnant with my first child and teaching high school English. I was also helping out the school's choir as a piano accompanist. When they took a trip to a choral festival in Colorado, I was invited to go along. The return flight was one of the scariest I have ever experienced: extreme, bumpy turbulence with roller-coaster style ups and downs. Many of the students seemed oblivious, but I remember catching the eye of the choir director. He was nervous, too. I was never so glad to get off a plane.

Between that flight and becoming a mommy, my fear of flying got progressively worse for many years, to the point that if I knew I was going to fly I would ask the doctor to prescribe a medicinal aid. But in the last year it seems my fear has lessened slightly. Let me emphasize the word slightly. I am still a very nervous flyer. I experienced it again a few days ago flying to and from Oklahoma for our house-hunting weekend. I try very hard to hide my fear from the 10-year-old sitting next to me. But as soon as the plane starts to taxi I start to pray, and I pray until we're in the air and many more times during the rest of the flight. I think the root of my fear is the sense of powerlessness that comes with flying. I like to be in control. When you're on a plane, there is no control. You are at the mercy of the machine and the guy piloting it (not to mention the weather and the other people on the plane). There is nothing to do but sit, hope, wait, and pray until you are once again on solid ground.

I had the thought while flying this week that I could learn something about life from how I feel when I fly. You see, I have this silly notion that in my everyday life I'm in control--that I can do it without God. Whether it's attending to my various vocations or attending to my own salvation, I fall into the trap of thinking I can manage things myself. Once in a while my life's plane takes a nauseating dive and I remember how powerless I am. But when smooth sailing returns I again start thinking to myself, "I've got this."

But I don't have this, any more than I have the power to keep a real plane from crashing. I don't want to go through life with white knuckles, clutching the arm rests, stomach churning in fear at each little bump. But if I were to spend my days as I spend my time on planes, in fervent, unceasing prayer, maybe I would be able to relax and enjoy the view a little more often.

Christmas Miracles

I know the "Christmas miracle" is a Hollywood creation, and the true Christmas miracle was a virgin birth over 2000 years ago, but we have experienced several bits of extra good news this month. For those who may not have heard all of them, here goes.

1) We have a house! Feast your eyes. :-)

We have decided to rent for now. The pool of homes for sale that fit our needs, wants, and price range is pretty small right now. We narrowed down to a couple of options, looked at those, and decided we weren't up to the task of making them immediately inhabitable. So we turned to the rental market. That pool is also fairly small. We looked at two houses in Tulsa and two in Broken Arrow. Both houses in Tulsa could have worked for us. One was an older midtown home with a lot of character; the other was a newer home with a lot of square footage. Neither was ideal, though, and both would have meant a 20-25 minute drive to church. That is less than desirable for people whose lives revolve around church. So we turned to the Broken Arrow options. One of them had five bedrooms, which would have been great for bunking purposes when everyone is home, but it was lacking in living space and in need of much cleaning and repair. The property manager did not leave us feeling confident that either would be adequately done. So at 7:00 p.m. this past Friday night we nervously headed to the last house on the list.

Oh, my. It was lovely. A little smaller than we would like, but truly a beautiful home, built in 2000 and in mint condition. The current occupants are moving back to their home state of Texas and we enjoyed chatting with them as we looked at the house. We knew within a few minutes that this was the house for us. Not only is it in excellent condition, with the floor plan we need (a suitable bedroom and bath on the main floor for my mom), but it comes with all appliances in new or newer condition. (All of our appliances are remaining with our house in Illinois.) It even comes with patio furniture, flat screen TV in the master bedroom, and bar stools (I kid you not)! It is almost too good to be true. There is a nice-sized, fenced yard (which we need for the dog) and a pretty neighborhood park within walking distance. Church is 10-12 minutes away. Between the charming young couple (with adorable newborn and cute Yorkshire terrier) from Texas and the fact that the house just came up for rent this week and we were the first people to look at it, we are convinced this was a "God thing." I know--everything is a God thing. But this was really a GOD THING. We snatched up that house on the spot, and because we are renting, not buying, and we don't have to be at the closing on our own house, we will be able to move even sooner than we had originally thought (probably the first week of January). Oklahoma, here we come!

2) Caitlin has been accepted to her first choice of college, Truman State University in Kirksville, MO. They have offered her $10,000 up front with the possibility of more money later when the competitive scholarship review begins. Truman was recently ranked #12 on the Kiplinger list of best values in public colleges in the U.S.  Caitlin is very excited about the prospect of attending there, and they have been extremely attentive to her in the admissions process, calling on the phone (multiple times), sending handwritten notes, and now, processing her application and sending her initial offer with great speed. I think the odds are good we will be moving some boxes to Missouri in August of 2014 (sniff).

3) My mom recently took another fall, but after a four-night hospital stay and thorough once-over she is back home and doing fine. As best we can tell, she had a fainting spell due to a urinary tract infection. She got quite a bump on her head and a nasty tear on her hand, but we are thankful that nothing was broken. Considering what she has gone through the last week, she is in excellent spirits. Anyone reading who knows me well knows that the preceding sentence is something of a miracle. My mom was so sad for such a long time--I am still pinching myself at the change she has undergone since her surgery in September. I am having to relearn the way I interact with her. Protective walls don't come down overnight, but we are working on it and slowly remembering what it's like to be mother and daughter.

I am in Oklahoma right now but heading home tomorrow. Then it will be time to pick up Trevor and get ready for Christmas! Phillip will be home the week between Christmas and New Year's. We hope to move in early January. Maybe in 2014 you will see me writing less about our day-to-day struggles and more about ideas. I do still have them, sometimes.

Blessed Gaudete Sunday!

Telling the Next Generation

Shared by a friend.


 For those reading who may not know, the video to which this adorable young man is listening is of my husband leading the Advent hymn "Prepare the Royal Highway" at a former congregation a few years back. The video is precious to me not only for the music and my husband's presence in it but also because it hearkens back to a time when we were all in church together during Advent. In the video my daughter is acolyting and my older son is helping my younger son sing from the hymnal. I also enjoy seeing the faces of some dear friends that we don't get to see anymore. I am so glad I took this video that Wednesday evening three years ago. What a gift it continues to be to me and to so many others.



Prepare the Royal Highway - Lutheran Service Book 343 from Cheryl on Vimeo.

Rejoice, rejoice . . . Who?

I ran across this fun article linking Christmas carols and grammar. It got me to thinking about one of my pet peeves: the way the Advent hymn "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" is typically sung. The refrain of that hymn is as follows:

"Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel!"

Most people understandably tend to breathe after the word "Emmanuel." It's the end of a line, right? And in most musical settings the last syllable of the word occurs on a longer, held note. It's a natural place to breathe. The problem is that when one breathes there, the sense of the line is confused and it sounds like we are telling Emmanuel to rejoice instead of telling Israel to rejoice because Emmanuel is coming.

For this reason, I prefer the musical setting of this hymn in which the "-el" of "Emmanuel" is given only an eighth note and is followed by a series of eighth notes that carry through to the final syllable of the final word. Keeping the rhythm moving more effectively preserves the meaning of the line. Then a quick breath can be taken at the comma after the word "thee." A skillful lead musician will make sure the accompaniment supports this approach, allowing time for the singers to breathe at the comma.

The likelihood, though, is that this Advent you and I will sing the setting of "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" that has a long note at the end of the first line. In that case, I encourage you to do what I do. Take a nice, deep breath after the second "Rejoice" and try to sing all the way to "thee" on that one breath. After "thee" take a quick catch breath to finish the refrain. You may be the only one holding out that "el" but you can pat yourself on the back for doing your part to preserve the poetry of the hymn. And who knows, maybe you will start a new trend!

Still Waiting

I woke up thinking about this post from a few months ago. I guess I am already in the Advent spirit, since it seems we are still waiting! We are no longer waiting on my mom's surgery and recovery, thanks be to God. Her surgery was successful and her recovery is well under way. We are, however, still waiting for a closing and a move, and the reuniting of our family. 

I have thought for a long time now that I need to somehow come to terms with the waiting game. I guess our whole lives are to some extent one big long wait. We wait for birthdays and holidays, for weddings and births, for graduations and job offers, for college acceptance letters and ACT scores, for paychecks (especially if you're a self-employed musician ;-)) and home sales, for diagnoses and cures. Sometimes we end up waiting for a very long time, as the job goes to someone else, the home doesn't sell, the apology doesn't come, forgiveness is not offered, or we are told there is no cure. I am not sure, though, how to be at peace with that sort of waiting. I can't seem to do it. I wait and worry and obsess and cry and ask, "How long, Lord? How long?"

But in Advent I am reminded that while this world is one big wait, the kingdom of God is not. While we wait for the kingdom of God in its fullness on the last day, we as redeemed children of God live in that kingdom right now, today, enjoying all of its goodness and blessing. In the bulletin at church yesterday there was a reminder of the threefold meaning of Advent:

Christ came to redeem us.

Christ still comes to deliver His salvation.

Christ will come again to take us home.

As we go through our days of waiting for earthly answers, we can know that Christ has come, is coming to us now, and will come to us for eternity on that final, glorious day. Isn't it just like Jesus to not make us wait for him as we wait for all the other things of life, but to come to us today, offering himself freely to undeserving sinners like us? I guess with Jesus at my side I can wait a little longer for the rest of it. :-)

The Week

Trevor is home! Phillip will be home tomorrow night. Both of them have to leave again Saturday, so with fewer people around to eat leftovers, Thanksgiving dinner will be scaled back this year. I bought a spiral-spliced ham, the smallest I could find, and a French silk pie at the Jewel bakery. I will make our customary deviled eggs along with several other side dishes. That's it. Thanksgiving morning we are going to worship with our Trinity-Tinley Park family and in the evening we are invited to the home of some dear friends. It should be a nice day.

The house sale is proceeding, although we still haven't nailed down a closing date. We do know that it will be in January. We would like something earlier; the buyers would like later. I'm sure we'll find a date we can all live with. God willing, we'll be in Oklahoma by the first of February. Six months apart is six months too long.

Several days ago I received terrible news about one of my oldest friends. As I understand it, on Monday of last week she fell off a six-foot ladder and lacerated her head. She was treated and sent home but within days was back in the ER, where she was ultimately diagnosed with necrotizing fasciitis. In the last four days she has had four surgeries (called "debridements") to remove necrotized (dead) tissue from her head, neck, shoulders, and chest. More debridements may be necessary. Right now her friends and family are praying for her survival, as 25-40% percent of people who contract this rare condition die from it, even with treatment. Those who survive face a long, painful recovery along with skin grafts and plastic surgery in the affected areas. My heart breaks for my friend and her family.

Here is a picture of me and Shelley from high school.

Here's a picture from about three years ago:

And here's an article about necrotizing fasciitis. If you are not familiar with this killer, please read and become informed now. It is rare, but no one is safe from it, and the best chance for surviving and avoiding the extensive surgical removal of diseased flesh or even limbs is to diagnose and treat it early and aggressively. The primary warning sign is pain that seems out of proportion for the injury. After her initial treatment my friend returned to the doctor with pain and swelling and was given pain medication and steroids and sent home. Her condition worsened and by the time she went back to the ER she was in septic shock with respiratory distress. I can't help wondering how much better her condition might be today if she had been properly diagnosed on her first return visit.

Trevor, Caitlin and I are going to see Catching Fire tomorrow. I also want to see The Book Thief. I am curious how that book is going to make the transition to screen, since I have a hard time envisioning Hollywood's managing to preserve Death as the narrator.

Caitlin is working on her college applications. As we did with Trevor, we are starting to get a "feeling" about one of the schools on her list. That school seems to have the same feeling about her, as the correspondence from their admissions office has kicked into high gear. It is so exciting to see my daughter dreaming about the next stage of her life. I am refusing to think about a day in August of 2014 when we will drop her in a dorm room and return to a house that will then be emptier by two. . . .

Then there's Evan. A little while ago he asked, "Mom, can you get me some socks?" I told him, "Evan, I think you can get your own socks." He replied, "OH, YEAH. I keep forgetting I'm ten years old!" And here I thought I was the one who was an expert at selective amnesia.

Word Fun

So, if you're on Facebook you may have bumped into the latest viral rage. It's called "What Would I Say"  and is a Facebook app that generates automated posts by searching your Facebook account and randomly putting your words and phrases together in new combinations. The results are hilarious. Here are some of the statuses my "CherylBot" came up with yesterday. If you're not on Facebook, this will give you an idea of what I tend to share there, albeit a twisted one.

You know those onesided conversations can sell the house.

I was walking down time before the piano students come.

Packed morning and afternoon with a 9-year-old who has Obama totally unresponsive. I called the doctor.

It has become politically correct, including the hymn festival at our hotel this morning.

Caitlin, who usually takes the magazine rack at Walmart at the conclusion of the scars they left behind me. 

God always behaves like us if we go to see him with accumulated AA credit card.

I have pretty hair tips.

I have subscribed to the vanity front. But never around Washington, D.C.

Carole, I am being reunited. That's a pain!

Pamela, that is Biblically inaccurate.

Wonder why Jesus doesn't seem to have been terrorized.

Survived junior high. Evan is not eating Halloween for years.

I understand the concept of those who would see fewer names than washing them. Just so everyone knows, though, I'd like to live in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him in the oven before preheating it to the pool!

Default. Failure to go to bed, oversize shower, sitting by 7:00 a.m.!

Behold, his crate last night was our first night without crying!

Phillip will bow down toward your holy temple in its totality. Isn't an option.

I have rolled back in, the chili is bubbling in his crate for his plane tickets last night and he will both lie down and Animal Farm will wait a few days of his typically petulant, petty, rude and interrupting a piano competition playing the problem that is in my absence. Everything looks on the tower, and out of time to be at feet. Late service. Ahhhhhh.

Sleep well, Homeland Security! Goodnight, NSA, FBI, EPA and that is nuts, Paul.

And now you know me better.

Readaloud Dilemma

We finished The Adventures of Tom Sawyer today. Yes, it took us a while. We savor our books. :-)

Here are a couple of pictures I took of Evan and Willard while I was reading. (Notice who is on the blanket. Willard loves readaloud time.) The second picture captures the moment they turned to look at me after I took the first one.

Back to our readaloud. Today Tom and Huck found the robbers' hideout, along with their supplies, and--let us not forget!--the treasure. This discovery led to a discussion of robbers and their practices, as Tom and Huck made plans to inaugurate their own prepubescent gang of criminals. (For those who have never "met" Tom Sawyer, it is probably good to interject here that Tom's boyish imagination knows no bounds.) The conversation covered the important points of killing all the men but being gracious toward the women--so that they will fall in love with you, of course--and then wrapped up thus:

"Now less fetch the guns and things," said Huck.

"No, Huck--leave them there. They're just the tricks to have when we go to robbing. We'll keep them there all the time, and we'll hold our orgies there, too. It's an awful snug place for orgies."

At this point Evan broke out into loud, sustained laughter punctuated by repetitions of the sentences "We'll hold our orgies there!" and "It's an awful snug place for orgies!" Finally the guffaws subsided and he turned to me and asked, "What's an orgy?" I continued reading.

"What's orgies?" [said Huck].

"I dono. But robbers always have orgies, and of course we've got to have them, too. Come along, Huck, we've been in here a long time. It's getting late, I reckon. I'm hungry, too. We'll eat and smoke when we get to the skiff."

Such is the adventure of reading aloud. Sometimes you stumble on things you're not quite expecting (even if you've read the book before)! I told Evan that an orgy was kind of like a party--but a party where people get carried away and eat and drink too much, so not a very nice party. The problem with this definition (which is not incorrect) is that it excludes the more common modern usage of the term, the one everyone thinks of when he hears the word. But I don't want to tell my child that meaning yet! Which, of course, opens up the possibility that he'll decide to show off his new word at a less-than-opportune time. Oh, Tom, dear Tom--you just love complicating things, don't you?

Cooking with Evan

My posts of late have mostly been of the "daily life" variety. I'm not sure if that is due to my dwindling ability to write more complex, thoughtful pieces or to the fact that our family continues to live in three separate states and my priority right now is to document what is going on in Illinois for those who are not here. It is probably both. At any rate, here is yet another "what we've been doing" post. A few days ago Evan decided he wanted to do some cooking. I provided him with a few recipe books and he chose for his project "Company Beef Casserole." We had fun whipping this up last night!

Layering in the ingredients.

The best part of cooking is tasting!

Ready for the oven.

Milk for Evan, wine for Mom. :-)

Learning from the Master

"Where do you want to go for supper tonight, Evan?"

"Wherever you want, sweetie!"

Summer of 2012

If Only

"Mom, did you have amnesia again last night?"

"No, honey, but maybe if I had I would have gotten a little sleep!"

(Note: This exchange occurred yesterday. I slept better last night, thanks be to God!)

Science Fail

Evan and I had chemistry class today. Chemistry class right now consists of his Magic School Bus Chemistry Kit.

Today we did card #29, a demonstration of the bonding behavior of water molecules. In this lab activity, the young scientist counts the number of drops of water he can place on top of a penny before the water spills over the side. He then repeats the process, but first he puts a drop of liquid dish soap on the penny. I sat beside Evan as he followed the instructions, and I saw nothing amiss in the execution. On the first penny he counted 13 drops of water. On the second penny (the one with the liquid soap) he counted 21. Why the difference? We turned over the instruction card and read this explanation:

A penny can hold many drops of water because the water molecules like each other and form special bonds between each other. On the surface of the water, the molecules are held together by this surface tension. When too many drops are added, the surface tension is broken and the water spills over. Fewer drops can be put on the penny with the soap because soap decreases the surface tension and the water spills much sooner. [emphasis added]

Yeah . . . right . . . .

I really don't know how we manage to do this. But over and over again, our science experiments turn out with something far afield of the expected result. Just one of our many family talents, I guess.

A Capital Idea

Tonight at supper it was noted that the dog has been getting lots more treats these days. Since my mom got home from rehab, she has been freely dispensing dog biscuits to our mutt Willard. This is new for her, as are many behaviors since she got home. (That is a blog post in itself, a wonderful one, I might add. I will have to write it sometime.)

Anyway, regarding the problem of Willard's overindulgence, I opined, "We might just have to hide the dog treats from Grandma."

Evan's reply? "Or we could just reason with her."

That child is going to go far in life.

The well-fed subject of this post.