Kidz Bop: Jesus Edition

I'm going to have to start reading the fine print at church.

Tonight, a favorite worship leader was scheduled to lead a "Family night of worship".  Nothing unusual about that.  I've been to those before, and it just means it's a night of worship scheduled early enough that parents can bring their kids and still get them home in time to put them to bed at a decent hour.

I found absolutely nothing strange about this, not even when I read that the kids choir would be performing as well.  I thought "How cool!  They'll have the kids on stage to sing a little back up, kinda 'We are the World' style to evoke some emotion.  That's a pretty good idea".

My first clue that I had terribly misjudged the situation came when my husband and I walked in and the atmosphere was more like a carnival than church.  The plus side to this was I got a free pack of grape nerds and a bottled water.  The down side was we were the only ones there without kids, and I had this strange fear that someone would call the cops on us, like they all thought we were there to steal a child.

The kids choir was already on stage and parents everywhere were snapping photos and pointing out their offspring.  Then the music started, and it was only the kids performing the cover of a Steven Curtis Chapman song.  It was complete with dance moves, shouting children, and the music director halting the performance and requesting the song start from the beginning since they had missed their cue.

Then, for the second song, the worship leader came out, and I swear to you it became a Wiggles show.  Sure, the little girl sitting in front of me who kept climbing up on her chair and trying to dance with me was adorable, but the rest of it was terrifying.  Parents weren't adults anymore, they were flailing beings trying to keep track of their kids.  Children were jumping on their chairs, and the choir kept screaming "I am counting on GOD!!!!!!!"

It did give me this one good idea for child rearing: Instead of screaming nonsense when they are angry, I will train my children to scream "I am counting on GOD!!!!!!!".  Then I can say "That's right, you are counting on God.  Why don't you go to your room and think about that."  My children will have a wealth of spiritual riches to draw from, and me to thank for this.  I told my husband this idea as we were getting the heck out of there, and he liked it.  He said "Yes, you are counting on God.  Why don't you go count on God to a thousand." 


I love my husband.

Everyday sorrow.

Last night I cried.  I didn't simply shed a tear, I wept.

My husband and I went to Cold Stone Ice Cream because we had a gift card, and while standing in line, the woman behind me stepped over to the freezer and got some pre-made ice cream cupcakes.  She came back and joined her son, who was about 15 years old, in line.

Woman: "I'll just get these so we can take them home and Joel can have one when he gets in".
Boy: "Oh, so then we don't need these(innocently holds out ice cream coupons)?"
Woman: "What part of what I just said makes you think that we won't use those?  You always do this.  You never listen and it pisses me off!  This is why I don't like going places with you, this is why I never bring you with me!(She is now quiet for at least 15 seconds while she just stares at him, the kind of look that makes one feel like dirt.  He does not argue, he does not defend himself, he just lowers his hand with the coupons so it hangs at his side.  He drops his gaze and, standing with slumped shoulders, stares at the floor.  She continues...) I am so sick of this, and you know who else is too? Heather(I am assuming this is the boy's girlfriend).  She is a beautiful, smart, intelligent woman, and this is why she's getting sick of you!  You do this to her too, and she's not going to put up with it much longer!"

She continued on, but lower so I couldn't hear.  All the while he was quiet, accepting what she said.  He looked down at the floor for a long time, then met her gaze through his wide rimmed glasses, his round cheeks void of all color.

I wanted to fight for him.  I wanted to slap her, tell her she was evil, and that she had no right to fill his head with these lies about himself.  I wanted to take him away, to rescue him and help him be strong; but what could I do?  If I spoke up, I would have made a scene right there, embarrassing him even more publicly than this woman was doing.  Plus, whatever I said, I'd be able to walk away and he would almost certainly have hell to pay.  So I was quiet, and my stomach turned and my shoulders slumped like his. 

What could I do?

I prayed for some chance to talk to him, just some small opportunity to let him know he had value.

We ordered, paid and turned to leave.  As I stepped behind him to exit, I was still wracking my brain searching for something that would have meaning for him, something to give him hope yet not provoke her.  Then I saw it: his sweatshirt was for a high school drumline.

Me: "Excuse me?"
Boy: (slowly turning to face me with his sweet eyes through those wide rims, head still slightly down) Yes?"
Me: "Are you on a drumine?!"
Boy: "Yes, I am."
Me: "That's so cool!  I don't play the drums, but I've always thought drumline's are awesome.  Way to go, that's really cool!"
Boy: "Thank you."

And then, this boy with the sweet eyes and the gentle spirit, shook my hand.

It was perhaps the most stirring action of valor that I have ever witnessed from a stranger, and I was proud of him.

I smiled, told him it was nice to have met him and wished him a good evening.  I held it together through the door, but once outside I broke.  How could she do that to him?  How could she look at that child and feel anything but affection?  I had an interaction with him that was maybe 30 seconds, but in that time I saw his integrity, his depth, and I wished that he were mine.

To the boy in the Cold Stone Ice Cream line, please know that you have worth.  Please know that others look at you (yes, even complete strangers), and see your value.  Know that Heather is a lucky girl and, if she doesn't see it, then don't waste your time.  She's lucky to have you, not the other way around.

Know that it gets better and, please, whatever you do, don't give up.

Adventure is out there: Crashing a stranger's wedding.

As established previously, I am afraid of a great many things.  I'm afraid of trying new things, of failing, and perhaps most of all, I'm afraid of breaking any rules for fear that I might get in trouble for it.  These fears often stand in the way of my taking chances and experiencing things that make life fun.

That's why I am trying to make myself branch out and take small risks.

That's why I crashed a stranger's wedding last night.

It's true!  I found myself with the opportunity to walk right into the wedding reception of a complete stranger, and I took it! 

Here's the whole story:  My husband and I were at a swanky hotel having drinks with friends to celebrate a birthday.  Towards the end of the evening, as we were wrapping up and getting ready to leave, we noticed many drunkards walking around in fine clothing.  Laughter and a bad Adelle "Rolling in the deep" cover were coming loud and clear from the private ballroom off to the side.  Realizing it was a wedding, and figuring they probably had an open bar, I decided it might be fun to take advantage of.  So, with my husband on my arm, we snuck in the back entrance and set about making the night ours.  Or, at least, the next approximate seven minutes ours. 

First:  Hit the bar for free beverages.  We got in, crossed the dance floor, and made a b-line for the bar.  I ordered a white wine, my husband, a ginger ale.  We walked over to some abandoned seats, I dropped off my coat and threw back the wine, wanting to take advantage of as much of the wedding as possible, and knowing that I couldn't enter the dance floor with wine in my hand. Time spent at the wedding: about 3 minutes.

Second: Boogie.  My husband hates dancing.  I mean, it really makes him uncomfortable.  Yet, reluctantly, he joined me on the dance floor and together we cut a rug.  We boogied to some dance club song for a little bit and then, we noticed a strange light on us.  Bingo!  It was the videographer, which meant we were officially on film!  This is what I wanted because, what is good is it to break some rules and have no proof of it?  I glanced over my shoulder and realized, not only were we now on film, but we were on film because the bride was on film, and she was right next to me.  Time spent at the wedding: about 5 &1/2 minutes.

Third:  Get the heck out of dodge. Knowing that, if there was one person who could ruin everything and point us out as the impostors we were, it was the bride, and what good is it to break some rules if you get caught?  I grabbed my husband and we went back to retrieve our coats, kissed passionately to feel like we'd really lived, and left.  Total time spent at the wedding: about 7 minutes.

I have to admit, I'm really proud of us for taking that chance, and even prouder that we weren't booted out.  In the future, I will be sure to try to be smoother, not look so nervous and out of place.  Also, I will be sure to take some more time drinking my wine.  It was only one glass, nothing that should have effected me at all, but being that I downed it in under 2 minutes, it had quite the impact on me.  In the future, I will be careful not to do that. 

Simple joys: The new shower head.

A little over a year ago, my husband and I bought a darling little home with a bit of history to it.  We bought it from house flippers, who themselves had bought it from some house flippers, and we quickly realized that no person had actually lived in the home in quite some time.

This was fine by us, as it meant the house was pretty generic in its interior design, and we could simply infuse our character without having to overcome someone else'.  Of course, there were some downfalls to this, as in all the things the flippers did(and somehow thought were good ideas), that no actual human being would ever live with.

We moved in and quickly began a long list of things we wanted to change to make the house our home.  And, like most people, we got so caught up in the major things, the things that would take lots of time and money and know-how, the things we could not possibly do soon, that we fixated on these flaws and forgot all about the things that were simple and easy and could be changed in two minutes.

Two minutes.  That's literally how long it took us to change the shower head.  The teeny, tiny shower head that could not spit out a steady flow of water.  The shower head that, no matter how high you turned it on, would remain a mere trickle and not have the pressure to fall farther that the drain directly underneath it.

You see, I have always had this dream of turning my bathroom into a rain forest.  I mean it!  Even as a kid I would stand in  the shower and imagine that I was in the jungle, and the light coming through the widow was really diffused by tree branches and not that odd ripply glass that's supposed to keep people from being able to see you.

I suppose this is the main reason why, as a home owner free to do whatever I please, I painted my bathroom a relaxing yet rich green with white trim and put up a shower curtain with plants on it.  Not real plants of course, this is just the design.  Try to stay with me people.

Yes, the room looks enough like a rain forest, and yet, that sad shower head was never going to convince me it was an afternoon thunder storm. 

And then I found it.  It happened innocently enough, just meandering the aisles of Target.  There, a wall of sparkling new shower heads rose before me, and I knew that I was changed.  In the middle, surrounded by all this glory and splendor, as if the others got their glory and splendor from this particular shower head, was the EcoRain shower head.  Two of my favorite words, Eco and Rain.  This thing was huge, at least six times larger than my sad shower head, and it had the ability to save me money on my water bill, while making me feel like I was Eeyor with my own personal rain cloud over my head.  But in a good way.  Not in a "I lost my tail...thanks for noticing me" kind of way, but in a "I'm a rain goddess, listen to me sing that ahhh-ah-ahhh-AHHHH-ah-ahh-AHHHH song from Disney's 'The Little Mermaid' because that's how incredible this is" kind of way.

And it only took two minutes.  Oh that I would learn to focus on the improvements that only take two minutes and have the same ability to change my life as the improvements that take a lifetime.

There's a lesson in that.

Today is a day just like any other.

This morning I woke up and felt glorious.  I was aware that I had had several dreams during the night, and every single one of them was wonderful.  The people in my dreams loved me, and it seemed I could do no wrong.

With the morning air blowing in through my window, and the sun shining in just the perfect way, I decided to take that feeling of not being able to do any wrong with me throughout the day.  See, I am traditionally a bit of what's known as a whimp.  And not just any old whimp, I'm a perfectionist whimp.  Not only am I afraid to take chances, but that fear is perpetuated by another, still larger fear that says "Even if you tackle your fear, if you don't do it perfectly, and far better than anyone else has tackled their fears before, then you shouldn't even bother".  I need to overcome this, it really is a flaw in my character.  And on top of that, it's not very fun baggage to carry with me.

So, with today's feeling of not being able to do any wrong, I think I will look up some videos and teach myself how to knit.  Step one, I'm pretty sure, is finding my knitting needles I bought many moons ago when a friend was trying to teach me, just before I gave up. 

Today is August 25th, time to start making Christmas presents!