Ruby Pearl

 With the exception of my last car,

I’ve always had hand-me-downs,

And, really, I’ve been fine with this.

I’ve known where the cars have come from—

My dad or my next door neighbor—

And I’ve known that they were taken care of.

I purchased my last car from a dealership,

Used, with all major service records,

And I felt good about the purchase and the car.

 

The car served me well,
Drove me over 50,000 miles,

But it took premium gas.

So when my dad approached me about getting a new car,

I didn’t tell him no.

I’d figured that I’d get my dad’s Highlander when he decided to get a new car,

But he decided that I needed a new car--

One under warranty,

With a family oil-change plan, and

With the new car smell.

 

Unbeknownst to me, my dad contacted the dealership and told him what we were looking for.

Did I know what we were looking for? Nope!

But evidently, my dad did! 😊

Before we knew it, my dad received an e-mail stating that a 2023 Highlander was due to arrive at the dealership in a couple of weeks.

If we wanted it, then we simply needed to put down a $500 deposit,

Sight unseen.

Being old fashioned, this seemed strange to both me and my dad,

So we contacted our car salesman and set up a test drive with a 2023 Highlander.

I pretty much knew that I’d like it because of my experience with dad’s car,

But I needed to jump into the new-fashioned car-buying process somewhere,

So I went to the dealership one Monday after school.

 

Long story short, I ended up learning about the Toyota Crown,

The brand-new hybrid replacement to the Toyota Avalon that gets 41.5 miles per gallon,

And it completely confused me.

Longer story short, I ended up driving a Crown exactly one week later.

I tried to like it because of its amazing gas mileage and sporty, futuristic look,

But I just didn’t like it.

 

 

Then I had an idea: a Hybrid Highlander.

I contacted my salesperson immediately and he told me that a Hybrid Highlander was due to arrive on Wednesday.

The person who had ordered it backed out,

So it was available.

The only problem was that it was Ruby Pearl,

And I didn’t want a red car.

 

Longest story short,

The car arrived that Wednesday night,

I got pictures on Thursday morning,

I actually liked the Ruby Pearl color,

I had a gut feeling that this was my car,

I put down a deposit and did the paperwork to secure the vehicle between my first two classes,

And I sent the e-mail just in time.

If I would have waited any longer,

Then the Hybrid Highlander would have been sold to someone else.

 

I test-drove the vehicle Thursday afternoon.

It was my first time driving a hybrid.

Good thing I found it fascinating.

Dad and I went to the do the rest of the paperwork on Friday afternoon.

I walked away with the keys that day but couldn’t bring it home until Saturday because of logistics.

I got my first ding on the car almost as soon as I got it home on Saturday,

And I had my first coffee spill on Sunday.

 

The whole experience was exciting, nerve-wracking, adrenaline producing, and a bit scary.

But now that it’s all over,

I’m so very grateful.

(And amused that I ended up buying a car sight unseen anyway!)

 

Dear God: Thank you for Ruby Pearl. Thank you for the process that led me to her, and thank you for my dad’s presence and help in buying her. Bless us as we begin this new journey together, and allow the journey to safely take us hundreds of thousands of miles together. Protect her from unsafe drivers and road hazards and keep her from breaking down. Guide the computer and the mechanics, the technology and the parts, the ins and the outs, the key and the tires, and help Ruby Pearl to be a good value for the money. This is a once in a lifetime experience. Thank you. Amen. 

Surgery

 I had my wisdom teeth taken out in college.

I remember the feeling of the world spinning backwards as I went under anesthesia,

I remember my mouth being numb after the surgery and me getting chocolate pudding all over my face because I couldn’t feel my mouth,   

And I remember taking very good care of my mouth after the surgery

Because playing the horn and singing were dependent on my mouth.

I do not, however, remember being overly anxious about the surgery,

Because, I think, I didn’t consider it surgery.

 

This morning, though, I am having real surgery.

If all goes as planned, then the surgery will be laparoscopic,

But I will stay in the hospital overnight,

I will spend Spring Break and two weeks out of work recovering,

And even after that, I won’t be fully recovered for another three weeks.

To say that I’m anxious about the surgery and recovery is an understatement.

I don’t mean to be anxious.

I just am.

 

I trust my doctor and medical team at Rex.

I trust the prayers of those who are praying for me.

I know that the surgery is routine.

I know that I don’t need my trouble-making uterus.

I know that I’ve done everything I can do to prepare my students and substitutes for my absence.

I know that my coworkers will water my plants while I’m gone and help me lift things when I get back.

I know that my dad will do the grocery shopping.

I know that my mom will make sure I am taken care of.

I know that my friends and family will visit and text and help in any way possible.

I know that it’s okay to miss a day or two of black-out poetry.

I know that it’s okay to miss choir.

I know that it’s very unlikely that I will become addicted to pain killers.

 

I just don’t know what I don’t know.

 

And I hate the thought of being blind-sided by the unexpected.

 

Dear God: For all who are anxious—for whatever reason—be peace today. And for all who fear being blind-sided by the unexpected, be present in current reality and help us to find you there. Always. Amen.  

Common Courtesy

 I helped lead a one-day retreat this past Saturday.

As part of the day’s events,

In addition to guided reflection, discussion, and worship,

My team and I led two crafts.

As I was walked around to see if anyone needed help with the second craft,

I heard one participant say,

“Great. Another thing for me to just take home and throw away.”

 

“Wow,” I thought.
“That’s a bold statement.

And kind of mean.”

 

After the retreat was over,

I went into the restroom and noticed

Both crafts and the guided reflection paper in the trashcan.

They were just sitting there,

Neatly stacked,

Right on top,

Not even trying to be hidden.

 

“Wow,” I thought.

“Someone didn’t even have the common courtesy

To take her things home before she threw them away.”

 

My teammates and I spent a lot of time preparing for Saturday’s retreat.

One of my teammates spent countless hours researching craft ideas

And making sure she had enough supplies for everyone.

 

To somewhat loudly announce that you’re just going to throw your work away,

Or to blatantly throw away your work where other people can see,

Just seems wrong to me.

 

Did we expect everyone to keep their craft forever? No.

But did we hope that the craft would be a reminder of the day

And the power of God to transform our lives through a process of change

At least for a little while? Yes.

 

I understand that some people aren’t crafty,

I understand that some people aren’t sentimental,

I understand that some people don’t need stuff to remember,

I understand that at a certain point in life,

For various reasons,

Some people come to a place of cleaning out and purging.

 

But I don’t understand why some people must be inconsiderate and rude.

 

God: Help us to be a gracious people—to think before we speak—to pause before we do—and to consider how our actions might affect other people. No. We shouldn’t live just to make other people happy. But we should live in respectful community with one another. Help us to know what this community looks like—and may it not be freshly created butterflies thrown into the trash. Amen.   

A Funny Story

 I have a funny story.

It has no point.

It just makes me laugh.

😊

 

On Saturday morning, I drove two friends to a one-day retreat.

I picked up one friend from her house and met another friend at the coffee shop.

I was supposed to leave my house at 7am.

I got distracted by Annie the Cat, so I left at 7:10am instead.

I wrote my friends to say that I was running late.

Coffee shop friend responded that she was a few minutes late, too, because it was morning.

House friend responded that she was still looking for pants.

 

A few moments after house friend got into the car,

I smelled something that didn’t smell right.

I knew that house friend had taken a shower because her hair was wet,

So I was very confused—and concerned—about why she smelled bad.

I had never known her to smell bad before.

“It’s the pants,” I thought.

“She must have mistakenly found dirty pants.”

 

“Where did you find your pants?” I asked.

“They were hanging on the rack in the laundry room,” she said.

“I was looking for them in the folded stack.

That’s why it took so long.”

“Hmm,” I thought. “So they aren’t dirty.

She must have left them in the washing machine too long.

Still. I’ve never known house friend to smell bad.

This isn’t good.”

 

A few minutes later…

 

“I think I stepped in dog poop,” house friend declared.

Immediately, I responded, “Yes! You did! That’s it!

And I’m so glad!

I had no idea why you smelled so bad!”

 

She said, “I was wondering the same thing about you!”

 

Thankfully, house friend had on washable flip flops,

And I have rubber floor mats in my car,

So the dog poop cleaned right up with some water

And coffee shop friend didn’t have to use her brain power to secretly wonder why

Either me or house friend smelled bad.

 

The end.

 

😊

The Band

I used to sing in a band.

Every Tuesday night,

Three other teachers and I gathered in my living room to talk and make music.

We mostly gathered for fellowship and community,

But we also made music well enough to be asked to sing at various churches and events in the area.

We had our own equipment.

We gave concerts and led worship.

We sang cover songs and we sang original songs.

We even signed autographs and recorded a CD.

 

After the band dissolved,

I stopped singing and playing for awhile.  

In fact, other than a few years as music minister at a local church,

I really haven’t sung or played consistently since those years with the band.

For the most part, my singing is now solely with the church choir,

And my performance days are in the past.

 

So this past Friday night, it felt good to be on stage again.

We had a talent show at school.

It was actually a very good show.

Around 24 kids showed a lot of courage in performing in front of more than a hundred people.

We had singers, dancers, tai kwon do-ers, hoola hoopers, magicians, and beat boxers.

The show’s coordinator also asked for staff volunteers to perform.

I agreed to sing.

At the last minute, I decided to do one of my more popular songs from the band days, “Fireflies.”

It allowed for audience participation.

And it was neat to see the audience making fireflies and to hear them singing during the intermission.

 

For one moment, I was taken back to my band days.

And for one moment, I smiled.

 

God of past, present, and future: Thank you. For guiding us then. For being with us now. For holding us in the future. For showing up as fireflies in the dark. Thank you. Amen.

Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookie

 One morning during duty last week,

A student gave me a Twizzler.

I assumed that she had a pack in her bookbag and was freely handing them out.

I was wrong.

Instead, she had a zip-loc bag that held three lone Twizzlers.

She gave me one of her three Twizzlers.

That’s real love from a 1^st grader.

 

Twenty something years ago,

During my first round of teaching,

Teresa Jennings wrote a song called,

“You Gave Me Your Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookie”:

 

“You gave me your peanut butter chocolate chip cookie

And I heard it was your last.

I thought you were gonna eat it

You must’ve thought I’d need it, since lunchtime had gone right past.

You gave me your peanut butter chocolate chip cookie

Now I know that it’s all true

Only real friends would sacrifice a cookie like that

That means I’ve got a real friend in you

 

You gave me your peanut butter chocolate chip cookie

What a selfless thing to do

It was your favorite kind of munchie, all chocolatey and crunchy

I knew what it meant to you

You gave me your peanut butter chocolate chip cookie

Now I know how friends should be

Cause a real friend would sacrifice a cookie like that

That means that you’re a real friend to me”

 

I taught this song to my students and we performed it as part of a larger program.

I have no idea what other songs we performed.

I just remember this song—

And I remember working with Barb the Art Teacher to make enough tiny peanut butter chocolate chip cookies to hand out to everyone leaving the show.

 

Yes, the song is catchy.

Yes, it becomes an earworm.

Yes, Barb and I jokingly sang it to each other and still do so to this day.

But more than anything else,

The song is sweet

(No pun intended :-p).

It speaks of a small sacrifice that shows true friendship…

And in a world where people are starving for connection,

These small sacrifices are more important than ever.

 

Maybe it’s a soda or snack from the vending machine.

Maybe it’s going out of your way to make a visit.

Maybe it’s a phone call.

Maybe it’s a hand-written card.

Maybe it’s slowing down to listen.

Maybe it’s covering a duty for a coworker.

Maybe it’s not saying something mean when the words are on the tip of your tongue.

Maybe it’s a Twizzler.

 

Whatever it is,

I challenge you to give someone a “peanut butter chocolate chip cookie” today.

Who knows?

They just might remember it twenty something years later.

I know I did. 

Enjoy Yourself

 Every morning,

As part of my morning routine,

I tell my sleepy mom:

“Have a good day, mom.”

She groggily replies:

“You have a good day, too, Dee.”

“I love you,” I respond.

“I love you, too,” she says.

And then I quietly close her bedroom door,

Walk into the kitchen where my dad is sitting after having made me breakfast,

And give my dad a hug.

“Have a good day.”

“You too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And then he often adds,

“Throw the paper in the garage for me.”

 

Yesterday morning, though, he threw in a new one.

After our normal morning exchange,

He very simply said,

“Enjoy yourself.”

 

“Enjoy yourself,” I thought.

“Is that something I normally do?”

 

I try to have good days.

I try to make it through my days getting work accomplished

While also loving people the best I can.

But do I enjoy myself?

Do I find pleasure in what I’m doing?

 

Ecclesiastes declares that everything is meaningless.

All our toil.

All our labor.

All of it will pass away.

Life will keep going without us.

Therefore, ^“There is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their own toil. This too, I see, is from the hand of God, for without him, who can eat or find enjoyment? To the person who pleases him, God gives wisdom, knowledge, and happiness.” (from Ecclesiastes 3).

 

I want to receive God’s gift of satisfaction.

I want to do more than just go through the motions of life very seriously.

I want to do more than battle against sin.

I want to embrace goodness and enjoy life,

For it is mine to be lived.

 

Dear God: Help us to enjoy ourselves as we live with you. Help us not to be selfish in this pursuit of happiness but to live in community with one another, building one another up, and encouraging one another on the journey. You have given us one life to live. Help us to live it to the fullest, always growing, always opening more into the fullness of who you created us to be. Amen.

Being Born Again

 I’ve often wondered why we don’t celebrate moms on birthdays.

In reality, moms are the ones who do the work while

Babies just fly or plop into the world.

Not that being born isn’t important and shouldn’t be celebrated.

I just think we should celebrate moms, too,

Because without moms we wouldn’t be here.

Without the radical, traumatic, messy, and painful event of labor,

We wouldn’t be here.

 

Yesterday’s gospel passage was the story of Nicodemus coming to Jesus by night.

In typical Jesus fashion, Jesus says something to Nicodemus that doesn’t make much sense:

“Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the Kingdom of God without being born from above.”

Confused, Nicodemus responds, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”

Jesus answers, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the Kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is the flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit.”

 

Jesus uses the imagery of being born.

He uses the imagery of a person having something done TO them—

Not the imagery of a person having to do something for themselves.

We cannot birth ourselves!

The roll of the birthed is to be birthed.

The roll of the birther is to do the work.

 

Jesus has done the work—

The radical, traumatic, messy, and painful work.

And the spirit continues to do the work,

As we walk through the radical, traumatic, messy, and painful thing we call life.

 

Don’t get me wrong.

We can’t sit back and let life happen to us.

We can’t be babies our whole lives.

We must work with the Spirit who is working in us

And create this life together,

But we must remember that there are some things we cannot do—

There are some things, like salvation, that can only be birthed by God.

 

Oh God, Giver of Life, thank you for doing the radical, traumatic, messy, and painful work of birth before, for, and alongside us. Help us to know when we need to do the work anew for ourselves and when we need to let You simply be our Mother. Help us, like Nicodemus, to wrestle with your words and truths and to come into life-changing relationship with you. Amen. 

Remember Who You Are

 In the beginning, he said,

When God created you out of formless substance,

God pulled you to God’s chest and

Whispered into your being who you were created to be.

When you came into this world,

The world immediately began trying to make you into its image.

Your life’s work is to live into God’s image—

Into who God made you to be.

You must remember who you are.

 

…

 

Don’t forget, he said,

That in in your quest for meaning,

You ARE the meaning.

You are an expression of God’s love

By simply being.

There is an innocence underneath the world’s conditioning—

A raw nature that exists regardless of what everyone tries to make you.

Squirrels are squirrelling.

Trees are treeing.

Dogs are dogging.

Cats are catting.

Deanna is Deannaing.

Joe The Counselor is Joeing.

We’re all, on some level, doing what we were created to do,

And being who we were created to be.  

We must remember who we are.

 

…

 

Simba, he said,

*In his best James Earl Jones voice*

Remember who you are.

 

…

 

Dear God: Help us to remember who we are as we remember who You are. Amen.