Job #2

Yep, I will begin a second job the first of May. Doing what? Developing the childrens ministry at our church.

I think it's quite interesting in how it came about, so I thought I'd share.

Last December I went to an informational meeting for the possible development of a local charter school in our area. I was very excited about that option because 1. it's a publicly funded school (0 tuition), 2. It mandates high parent involvement and another choice for lower income families, and 3. my oldest attended charter schools for K and 1st grades, and was incredibly challenged and did a lot of accelerated learning.

At the end of the meeting, I stood to announce my approval of the idea and my reasons, then signed myself and Ben up to be on the steering committee. We saw a problem with the existing system and decided to help bring change instead of continuing to complain about the status quo. We began to feel a whole new sense of purpose about being a part of something that will benefit 5 counties that would be included, and it felt good.

In the mean time, I began to get frustrated with our church situation. We moved to the middle of nowhere and ended up attending a church in a mainline denomination, (which I don't particularly like, but oh well.) The service is also very rigid, traditional hymns with a couple worship songs that were sung 'as written'. Honestly, it's boring. So if I was bored, I am sure you can imagine two children, 9 & 7 having to endure the hour and 15 minute service, which by most of the gray-hairs were not even welcomed.

Ben and I began to consider visiting other churches (about 45 minutes away). We made it to one and really liked it. It wasn't just us, either. The kids couldn't wait to go back... the next day!

While this was happening, someone we know pretty much challenged us to be a part of changing where we were. A novel idea, we thought, seeing as we've already had a taste of being a part of bringing true change into a not so good situation. Then, the job offer came for the kids ministry.

I informed our friend that I would accept the position as long as I could change a lot of things...
1. The kids will have their own childrens church
2. I get to choose the curriculum
3. The kids will have an active role in ministry to the adults.

I'm pretty excited about it.

Easter Shopping

After a few hours of shopping in Atlanta, and another few hours in Dothan, I was still unable to find the 'right' dress for me and my youngest girlie.

Around this time of year, I like to purchase new digs for the entire family to wear Easter morning. This was a tradition that I grew up with, and decided to carry it on with my own children. The trouble ensued with my color choices. Two complimentary colors are picked every year so that we all sort of coordinate... not match, but at least look good in our annual Easter photo. This year, Pink and Orange will be displayed on the Dismukes family.

In many ways, this shopping trip is a worshipful event for me. I realize that this may sound weird, and to some even sacreligious, and I'm okay with that. During the shopping trips to numerous stores, I am very aware of God's presence and spend quite a bit of time praying.

Seeing as Easter is this weekend and I didn't have to work today, I took off for Albany to finish the list of purchases that I wanted to make. The drive to Albany is roughly 40 minutes, if you go just a little over the speed limit, so I normally get on the phone to chat with any number of people. Today, I was visiting with my mom, talking about activism and other extremely important ideas. As I talked, my driving speed increased more than the usual 5 miles over the limit, and I did not even notice. Not until the little blue lights on top of a passing car went off. I immediately slowed and looked through the rear view mirror to discover in horror that the police car had turned around to get me. Now, over the years, I have had the priviledge of being pulled over by men. And I have always used that to my advantage and had never been issued a ticket (except that one time I broke the cops window from loose rock on the road). As I was pulled over on the side of the road, I began to run through my mind what I would say to ease myself out of the trouble I was in, then I looked in my driver side mirror as the officer approached and all of my wonderful explanations vanished as I saw a female officer coming my way. I was out of luck. When she got to the window, I handed my license and registration over promptly, then was asked if I knew the speed limit. I answered back with "Yes ma'am, it's 65." She returned with, "No, it's 55." My heart sank. I wasn't going 11 miles over the limit when she nabbed me, I was going 21 miles over the limit! Needless to say, I received a ticket.

After resuming the drive into town, I passed two more county sherriff's. However this time, I was traveling much slower with my speed control set to 55, just to be safe.

When I made it to the shopping district (which is what I prefer to call it, even though it is quite the pitiful mall), I found the perfect dresses for the girlie and myself. I was not expecting the added expense of a speeding fine today, and hope that I miraculously get some money in the mail to cover it. Since, after all, it WAS a time of worship.

Tales from West

I work at the local IGA grocery store called West Foods. It's been the only store to service this town since it opened in in 1967, and seems to be doing well despite the current economic situation we are facing. This little store employs 26 of the most interesting people you could ever imagine, not to mention the owners. I work a 3 day work week, Monday's, Tuesday's, and Thursday's, doing the books, payroll, price verification... basic office administration stuff. My desk is positioned in the northeast corner of the store behind the customer service counter in a cubby, virtually hidden from everyone. Most folks around here don't know that I'm there, much less, able to hear every word escape their lips. It's a perfect set-up for an avid eaves-dropper. I have learned much more about this community and people in it than I ever really wanted to know... and some of it is dying to be shared with the blogging world. So every now and then, I will post some of the bizarre happenings from the world of West Foods.

I have a very generous employer who feeds his employees for free from the deli in the back of the store. The food is very 'Paula Deen', except not gourmet, but full of butter and lard and who knows what else. I try not to find out, because in this instance, ignorance is bliss. Anyway, I was in line for lunch yesterday and was able to practice my eaves-dropping ability quite easily in line. The woman in front of me ordered the peppers and steak over rice in a cup. As our faithful deli employee scooped up the mixture into the spoodle, the heavy-set customer asked, "Give me that piece of meat with all the fat on it... no, not that one. The one with more fat... yeah, that one. I love fat." I immediately bit my tongue to supress the giggle that was bound to escape. I had never heard anything quite like that before, well, yes I have...

As I am writing this, I remembered something that happened years ago in a little restaurant in Sarajevo, Bosnia that is sort of similar to what I heard yesterday. Ben and I were dining with a large group of friends. The restaurant served it's food 'family style', so a large plate of cheese and meats was brought to the table with bread. The meats were very good, especially the procuitto. Being a little conscience of what I eat, I refrained from eating the large amount of fat that was laced through the procuitto, and left it on my plate. A male friend across the table noticed and said to me, "Why don't you eat the white meat? The white meat is the best part." I was kinda grossed out when he asked to have what was left on my plate, but I politely obliged.

So, over the course of my employment at WF, I am sure to have more to write about. Stay tuned!

Lightning...

I woke up this morning at 5. For anyone who knows me, I don't ever wake up at 5. The reason for my interrupted sleep was due to a severe weather. The power went out, therefore my noise maker turned off, therefore I woke up. I was unable to return to sweet slumber because I HATE lightning. Flashbacks of horrible thunderstorms from my childhood flood into my mind, and I get nervous. On top of that, my windows rattle at even the smallest noises, so when lightning strikes, my windows sound as if they will shatter into millions of pieces.

As I lay in bed, with all the ideas of lightning striking the magnolia tree in the front then crashing through the roof to land on my eldest, or a strike hitting the tinderbox of a house that I live in, I began to think about how I will inevitably have to comfort whichever children end up climbing into bed with me because of their own fear. I thought of singing the classic song from The Sound of Music, but realized that 1. I don't sing very well, and 2. I probably wouldn't be able to remember all the words (partly due to lack of sleep, the other part due to the previous mentioned images in my mind.)

Sure enough, the girls came whimpering into my room and climbed into the bed. I said, "It'll be okay, let's just all cover our heads with the blanket." Funny enough, it worked for them. They went right off to sleep and left me to imagine my poor dog getting killed by a tree limb that was blown off the dead pine tree from the neighbors yard, or imagining the sound of a freight train growing increasingly louder, wondering which room in the house would be safest in case of coming tornado.

Unrealized Horizon

I love to dance. And I love art. Just as I never pursued to become a dancer, I never pursued to become an artist. Over the past 4 years or so, desire to create has gradually crept into my heart. It all began with picking up my flute after a decade of not playing a single note. It wasn't a gradual ease into playing, either... I jumped right onto the worship team at church and there I was. The dancing came next. Again it had to do with worship, and I was truly unable to keep my body from engaging in the music. Last year, I choreographed a dance for Easter morning (with help from my dear friend Tina.) I, in my wildest dreams, never would have thought I was capable of something like that... only because I have never been trained in dance. So, as you can see, there has been an interesting progression which has now blossomed into drawing.

I sat last night, reflecting on the sermon I had heard that morning, and began to sketch. This drawing is what came out of that reflection. I see so often in my own life, and in the lives of those around me, that we often limit ourselves from our true potential. When we were first dreamt by God, he set a horizon before us... something that is within our design to attain. How we get to the horizon and how we fill the space before the horizon is up to us. I want to fill mine completely. I do not want to look back and see areas in my life that were unreached by love, or to think of what could have been.

I will keep playing my flute. I will dance. And I will draw. Then do whatever else is laid before me.

"Big Boss"

I have decided that my youngest daughter is one of the funniest creatures I have ever seen. She is almost five years younger than her next closest sibling, so she has been able to observe the many mistakes that have been made by sister and brother. I would think, though, that after close study of their behavior, the littlest darling would learn. I guess in some ways she has, but in the area of believing that she is the "Big Boss" in the household, she has not.

This afternoon, I sat in the den visiting with my mother-in-law. She was over with a nephew and niece for a few hours. My nephew asked to visit a friend across the street, and being that he is almost 12, he was promptly given permission. As he bolted out the back door (yes, in the south, the front door is rarely used), the "Big Boss" turned to me with a look of presidential authority and pointed, saying, 'I am going to the front porch. Yes, I am!' I, of course, repsonded with a resounding 'No, you may not go to the porch, but you may look out the front window.' Again, the little miss pointed her finger at me and announced much more firmly than before that she was going to the front porch. Naturally, I repeated my previous stance. This went on for several minutes before I finally gained the victory.

I also find this peanut of a thing loudly interrupting anyone whom she does not care to hear with a "blrlblerlblarlbal!" I laughed the first time I heard her say it, and now, regret that little mistake. For some reason, she now believes that it is acceptable to cut innocent adults off from finishing a thought.

I could go on, but just wanted to share a little bit about this little girl that has utterly captured the hearts of her parents, and anyone else who's met her.

Emily Louella is now 7 years old. We've been looking forward to celebrating her birthday since the last birthday in our family (Christmas Eve, or Benmas). The day began with Emily being serenaded in bed by Ben and myself. Abby joined in eventually, and then Isaac. The morning rush then ensued... getting dressed, hair done, shoes tied, backpacks loaded... you get the idea. Now, in our household, Ben is the master of breakfast. He rises early and prepares a full course meal for the whole family to eat together; grits, eggs, sausage, bacon, occasionally oatmeal, and cereal. But never does he prepare waffles. Until today. The Birthday Princess got her first wish granted with a delicious Belgian waffle topped with a pad of butter and drizzled with Mrs. Buttersworth syrup. We had just enough time to eat before the kids were off to school.

We wanted to continue to give Emily a delightful day, so we joined her during lunchtime at her school. We visited with her a bit, but mostly Ben and I were bombarded with questions by two of the most talkative first graders we have ever met. I was a tad disappointed by that, but Emily didn't seem to notice.

After school, I brought Em's cousin over to play with her as I created her special request dinner of tortillas, beans, meat, cheese, sour cream, lettuce, and tomato. I normally call it a taco, but tonight, it was all about what Emily wanted. This feast was then followed by a divine Oreo cookie pie (which I might just have to finish tonight!).

Then, the day's joy quickly fizzled. I, unfortunately, have become one of those mothers who are able to ruin birthdays. I am ashamed to admit it, but I've heard that truth sets us free, so I am determined to be honest about my poor behavior.

It seems that 7 o'clock is my 'Cinderella time'. Her's was mid-night where the magical spell ended and Cinderella was transformed back into a poor cleaning lady with mice for friends. For me, I am transformed into a tired creature that is grumpy, and yes, mean. You would think that on a day like today, I would be able to maintain some self control or keep an even temper, but no, I didn't.

So, my hope is that in sharing this, some light will be shed in a few hidden corners in my heart, and that next week on Isaac's birthday, another one won't be ruined.