Shocked at the Pump

Every time I fill the tank here in LA, I get so shocked!

$40! How can that be??

I look at the numbers displayed on the pump and I'm sure it's not right. I try to get the pump going again. I'm sure it cut off by mistake. This leads to me topping it off, which I'm not supposed to do. But it's the shock that makes me do it.

Whenever I filled the tank in Portugal, it always came to $100. And that was using diesel, which is the cheapest way to go there.

So, yea, I'm shocked at the pump. It's nice to have pleasant shocks from time to time. But I'm not going to let this "cheaper" fuel lull me into thinking I don't have to be careful about how much I drive. It's not just about my money spent, is it? The state of the environment is a whole different shock.

Tenderness of Life

I think maybe it's an age thing but I feel so tender about life these days. This morning I read in the paper about four fire fighters perishing as they struggled against the huge fire that is raging here in California. I looked at the photo of the fire chief who was the father of five and I started to cry thinking about his family's loss. Byron's cousin, Judy, was killed in a car accident last weekend. I hardly knew her but I look at her photo and read about her life and I feel this ache to know that she is gone. Jenelle has been grieving the death of a friend who took her own life and the up-coming deployment of a close friend to Iraq.

Yet it's not just loss that is making me feel so tender. I read about Kelly and April's new baby, Alleke and I feel sort of weepy. The fragile beauty of new life can put a lump in my throat!

Today I went to chapel at Heather's school because her class was leading it with a reader's theater production of the story of Noah. Very sweet. Chapel began with worship. It was the simplest thing ever--taped music playing as the kids sang along. We sang with them. We sang Chris Tomlin's How Great is Our God and I stood there in a room full of little ones and a handful of adults struggling fairly hard not to fall apart. Yes, it's a pretty song with lovely words. But I don't think that is what moved me.

Standing there singing I could only picture the faces of people we have worshipped with. Of course I always imagine myself in the midst of the Matrix , which can put me over the edge immediately. But I was seeing others from the rest of the CA family. Sophie's sweet face. Phil practically stamping his worship. Darrin with eyes closed. Deela. It wasn't just worshipping that moved me. It was the memory of worshipping in community, the feeling of being bonded with others and loving God together with them. That is such a sweet thing.

Weepy me.

We're Missing Colin

Colin has gone to Catalina Island with his classmates for three days.

I'm missing him around our house.

Trevor showed me this photo of Col on the Triplet site today. Here he is being the guest screamer at one of their concerts last summer. What a cutie.

Bring that little screamo home!

Such Nice Gifts!

So here's my list of wonderful birthday gifts from my wonderful little family:

Byron gave me Patty Griffin's Impossible Dream and Bruce Springsteen's We Shall Overcome (the second release with the four extra songs.) He's a smart boy... Knows that music makes me happy and happy me is best :-)

Jesse painted cobble stones from Portugal into delicately detailed little Portuguese houses. They are excellent and I love them.

Trevor made me a stunning little wooden box of walnut with inlays of light wood around the edges. I love the way the tiny magnets make the lid snap closed.

Colin gave me a nice pen to write with, which is exactly what I love.

And Heather gave me a cute little notebook to write in.

What a perfect pile of presents! It's as if they know me really well!

More from Us

Trying out keeping a second blog that will ponder the details of us getting off to Tanzania. Kind of a journal of departure for those who want to pray for us... Is it a good idea?

Check it out here

My Civic Duty

I've just come in from downtown LA where I was required to report for jury duty this morning. I spent most of the day reading. It was a process of careful selection to decide which book to take along. I almost never have time to read. Should have thought of that when I kept begging Byron for more children. "More! More!" while Byron was asking if I loved him really or just wanted his body for my own purposes.

Ok THAT was off topic!

I ended up taking Peace Like a River, which Byron gave me exactly a year ago yesterday on my 43rd birthday. Now I'm 44 and today I started it while hanging out in the offices and waiting areas of the superior court. I am well hooked into now.

Some time after the lunch break (during which I walked over to the very new cathedral,Our Lady of the Angels and observed the last half of a noon mass celebration and then explored the mausoleum below) I was called up with 40 other people to begin the interview process in which the two opposing attorneys select who they think will be an unbiased juror. Sadly, I wasn't dismissed immediately and so I have to return tomorrow and complete the selection process. If selected, the trial will probably take 9 days, which is a bit of a pain in my neck with all that I need to get done right now, but oh well.

The nice things about the day were as follows:

I rode the metro, which I have never done in LA before because it is quite new and because I have no cause to ever go downtown. As I rode along I had lots of nice memories of cities all over Europe which I have been in, and I thought about how strange it is that I know so little about downtown Los Angeles. So that's the second nice thing--I got to explore a little of downtown and to hang out with someone I had never met until today. We had lunch together in the park and then she came with me to the cathedral.

I also got to read a lot. And to see a little bit more closely how the justice system of this country works.

All the sitting around in neon lit offices and courtrooms has left me deliriously tired but I'm slowly being revived by sucking on a tea spout. That's what my friend Brian Caston used to say when he'd come in and find me drinking tea with his wife, Jenny. Jenny the missionary with hot red lips and who used to yell, "Oh come here and give me a kiss, loverboy," whenever she would see Byron. I love that girl. Anyway, Brian would find us and he would say, "There they are, flapping their gums and sucking on a tea spout!" He's a kiwi and I forgive him his colloquialisms.

The tea is reviving me, yes, indeed.

God Bless Them Forever!

I was just reading Phil Togwell's reflections on his time in New Zealand with Pete Greig and the NZ Salvation Army. (You can follow the link on the right to Toggie, if you like.)

One of the things he most enjoyed was...

"experiencing so much of what is wonderful about the Salvation Army... their outrageous generosity, their whole-hearted devotion to Jesus, their commitment to the poor, their focus on mission (more than meetings!), their willingness to 'go' (and reluctance to 'stay'), their trust in godly leadership, their purpose - *caring for people, transforming lives, reforming society*"

Doesn't that just make you want to jump up and dance??

God bless the Salvation Army!

Beautiful Esther

Byron and I had a cup of tea with Esther this week. Esther is 83.

Esther worked with her husband for many, many years in Africa. Of particular importance to us, Esther is the mother of one of our very favorite people, Peter Russell.

Besides the good tea and Esther's sparkling laugh, these things stood out to me...

Esther is totally engaged and alive with what God is doing in the world today. She is actively involved in his plans.

"I know," she said, "that God has not brought me through these 83 years for nothing. I have been prepared for the NOW!"

No sense of "I've done my bit," there. Esther is still a participant in what God is up to DAILY.

She also talked about being freed from the notion that she needs to be a super-saint. She laughed and almost cried telling us about how He revealed to her recently that she is only called to do what He has gifted and abled her to do. And in as much, there is PLEASURE in ministry, not burden. Pleasure!

And as we explained what all we see ourselves getting involved in when we get back to Africa, Esther slapped her hands on the table and cried out, "I can't wait to come!"

Beautiful Esther!

Drum Boy

Jesse always has a million ideas of new things to make. Especially new drums.

Last weekend he was down to visit and he spent most of his time in his Grandpa's woodshop making two tongue drums.

This photo is of him tuning the first one. Seriously! He would shave little bits off the tongues he had carved out to perfect the pitch. It sounds really pretty.

So one night Trevor ended up picking up his guitar and Colin played one of Jesse's little djembes that he made some time ago, and Jesse played the new tongue drum.

Since I play no instrument at all, I danced. I'm sure you would have been inspired if you had seen me (!)

Superstars Save the World

Yesterday afternoon my little family gathered around the TV to watch Bono on Oprah. They were launching the RED line of products, a percentage of the proceeds from which will go to provide anti-retroviral drugs in Africa. It's a very cool idea. People here in the States love to shop. Now they can shop and help others at the same time.

But I had a weird reaction to the whole thing. I'm still struggling with what it is that I'm feeling.

Normally I feel very encouraged that Bono and others are championing the desperate needs in Africa. It feels like finally we have the Big Guns involved. It feels like all the little people on the ground who are doing the day to day work of actually trying to make a difference there finally have massive re-enforcements as Bono gets the world's attention about what is really going in that place.

Yet somehow watching the show yesterday just made me wonder what good it is for our wee family to return to Africa and join the effort to make a lasting change in people's lives there. I kept thinking about our smallness. Shoot! Africa has Bono and Oprah and Alicia Keyes! Even Madonna is stepping up to the plate and adopting an African child.

It's weird because I know that we are doing the right thing. We are responding to the need: 40 million AIDS orphans in Africa by 2010, close to the same number of kids going to school in the public school system of the United States! We are convicted that our gifting and our passions are right for this call. God has given us a network of relationships across Africa that we can jump straight into. And a lot of the people most precious to our family are Africans that live in far away villages where my little boys grew into young men.

So why does the sight of Superstars saving Africa leave me despondent?

In my logical mind, I know that the combination of little people on the ground and BIG PEOPLE in powerful places is the perfect team to bring needed change in Africa.

And I think my response may just come down to this: discouragement is the enemy's favorite weapon.

What a clever tactic! Take something good (Superstars getting involved) and twist it in Lisa's head into a discouraging thing. In my weak and easily intimidated state (a place I've been in recently) their SUPER EFFORTS make me feel that my efforts are inconsequential.

I don't think this is the conclusion God is intending for me.

Trevor Makes Me Cry

Trevor plays the guitar and writes songs that make me cry.

I've wanted to post his song about leaving Portugal but it's hard to know when I'm being an annoying mum and when it's ok to share this kind of thing.

Jenelle stayed with us for a little more than 2 weeks during our last days there. They were her final days there as well. Since she has spoken of this particular song on her blog, I will just send you over to her's to hear it. Look for her post called Sunsets Say Goodbye.

It's a song about transiton... change. I have to admit, I'm proud to be the mother of this boy.

Listen to song here

My Knee Makes Noises

My right knee makes a noise. My right knee, along with the rest of me, is just about to turn 44. I noticed the noise just a couple of years ago while hiking around the cliffs of the Algarve. There's no pain, just a sound like muffled velcro being pulled apart very briefly.

I mentioned this to one of my (many) chiropractor friends. He said, "Oh that's called blah blah blah blah decrepitous." He didn't really say the blah blah blah part. I don't remember what fancy term he used. I just remember VERY CLEARLY that it ended with the word DECREPITOUS.

I am so offended by this term! Why are we constantly being reminded that we are going down hill? Why, I wonder, can't the medical world give kind titles that reflect our station in life? For instance, why can't the condition that produces this weird crinkly noise in my knee be called The State of a Knee in a Person Who Has Gained Valuable Wisdom and Insight Through Living a Respectable Number of Years?

Just writing out my new name for this sorry knee condition has made me feel better about it already :-)

Apparently I Have Issues

I have 868 mails in my in-box. I need to sit at the dining room table for a long time and go through them and empty that sucker out.

Jesse said I should just go through them fast and delete many at a time. I didn't know how to do that but he showed me and it was pretty neato. So then he said I should start at the bottom of the box and move up, making great swipes through the box and clearing happy swathes upward and onward to the utopia of an empty in-box.

But I said I can't do that yet cuz some of those mails have to be saved. He said, "So move them to where you save them." I said, "Well, I don't know where I want to save some of them yet." (I have files for lots of things but not for all things.) He said, "You have issues."

But then he said I don't really (have issues). He said he understood cuz he has a hundred or so in his box too. I said "100! I have almost 900!"

He said, "Oh my gosh, I take it back! YOU DO HAVE ISSUES!"

It's good to have an 19 and a half year old son around to let you know you have problems.

Essay on Forgiveness by Anne Taylor Fleming

Listen to this short podcast by essayist Anne Taylor Fleming on the way of the Amish and their willingness to forgive, even after what their community has gone through this last week.

www-tc.pbs.org

Talking with God

God and I often communicate in hushed conversation as I go about the business of the work at hand. Something I've noticed in all the years of our relationship is that he often whispers to me through snatches of songs that play in a seemingly random way in my head.

For the last couple of days I've woken up with a Patty Griffin song (from her 1,000 Kisses album) in my head. The line that plays over and over says, "Strange how hard it rains now/rows and rows of big dark clouds..."

Puttering around in my jammies this morning, getting my kids fed and ready and off to school, I wondered to God about that line. Yes, I have been feeling significant sadness in the last couple of days. It stems from the sense of being misunderstood by long time friends that we love dearly. These are people who are very important in our lives, people who mean a lot to us. And I just feel sad. The sadness feels like rain.

The "rows and rows of big dark clouds" hover closely as well. I look ahead at all that needs to be done and the thousands and thousands of dollars that need to be raised in order to get us functioning in ministry in Africa again. Yes, it all feels like rows of big dark clouds. Not imminent danger, but heaviness.

I paused at the back of the kitchen looking out the window at the deep clarity of a blue sky. "God, have you lost your mind?" I asked. (I'm very sorry if you don't think I should talk to Him that way. I'm just being honest. I just have to ask if He's really got this plan all thought out.)

The next song that came to my mind is a Brian Houston song off of his 35 Summers album. "I said why'd You have to give me such impossible dreams/He said I like to make dreams come true..."

That's basically what my question about God's mind was all about. I was resenting that we have these huge dreams that we feel so strongly are God-given. But it really looked to me like His eyes sparkled as He responded with that "I like to make dreams come true" line.

This idea of impossible dreams took my mind to something I heard Lyndall Bywater say in Dresden last year. (Lyndal is in leadership with the Salvation Army in England and when she speaks, we all stop in our tracks.) Lyndall said that if we're not doing something so big and impossible that we can't even get out of bed in the morning without God, then we're not doing anything worth doing.

HOLY COW!

The memory of her words rebuked my softly. I have been longing for this place. I know how it feels to be desperately aware of how much I need God, to be dreaming such wild dreams in impossible times that it almost feels like just breathing throws me at His feet. And I had been missing this place.

Now I am here and I am sad?

I wrapped Heather's cut apples and carrots and placed them in her lunch.

As I moved on to Colin's lunch I heard myself singing, "For the beauty of the earth, for the glory of the skies, for the love which from our birth OVER AND AROUND US LIES, Lord of all to Thee we raise this our hymn of grateful praise."

I smiled to myself at the place the Lord had brought me to as I did early morning chores in conversation with Him. I wouldn't say the sadness or the feelings of being overwhelmed have gone away, but I am aware of a covering of love, a goodness and a mercy that follow me all the days of my life.

I feel grateful and praiseful for God who sings to me.