Chasing Pumpkins

I posted about chasing lions yesterday, but I actually spent the day chasing pumpkins. The pumpkin is my “lion,” so to speak, because I’m in big trouble with Little Squirt if I don’t find one and soon!

My son had a pumpkin; a great big pumpkin, which he proudly picked out and polished several weeks ago, and made elaborate plans to decorate. We parked it in front of the fireplace to await it’s primping. And then I had company for dinner a few nights later, and lit a fire in the fireplace. I was so excited about the homey, autumn atmosphere I’d created that I forgot to move Little Squirt’s pumpkin away from the heat. So there it sat, roasting in the heat of the flames, it’s backside turning to pudding.

So Little Squirt was sad and angry and it wasn’t a proud parenting moment for me. But I promised to buy him a new pumpkin, and all was forgiven. And yesterday, it suddenly dawned on me that Halloween was coming up quickly, and we had better get that pumpkin. Super Hubs and I went shopping yesterday, and, to our dismay, this is what we discovered: Pumpkins are gone from the stores. They sold out. We raced from one side of town to the other and could not find a pumpkin anywhere in town! It was beyond fwustwating.

Today I am heading out to a farm, and will have to traipse through the soggy, wet fields in the rain to find a pumpkin for Little Squirt. Otherwise, there’s gonna be big, big trouble. I can feel it.

Chasing Lions

Written for the teen ministry at Willow Creek McHenry County Church.

I’m not gonna lie; I’m not the most courageous person on the planet. I dread confrontation. I cower from spiders. I sleep with a fireplace poker under my bed. And I’ve never considered fighting a lion in a pit on a snowy day. (I’d at least wait until summer. And then find a hunter with a gun.)

Benaiah was a warrior in the Old Testament who chased a lion into a pit of snow, and then fought and killed him. Because of his bravery, King David honored him by putting him in charge of the bodyguard.

I’m probably never going to have to fight a real lion. The closest thing I’ll ever come to that, most likely, is giving my cranky cat a bath. But reading about Benaiah’s story makes me ponder. Hmmm. What kind of “lions” do I face in my 21st Century American Life?

One “lion” came in the form of a relationship a few years back. I felt God drawing me to befriend a person that others said I shouldn’t. There were rumors circulating about her that were negative, and I was worried that they were true. Lots of people started distancing themselves from me once I began hanging out with her, which made me fear rejection from them. But I trusted God and kept moving toward this new friend. And I am so glad I took that risk, because so many blessings came out of my friendship with her. She introduced me to some incredible new relationships and experiences that benefited both me and my family. And through our friendship, she felt God’s love for her through me.

Moving toward that new friend felt to me like facing a lion in a pit, but it was also an opportunity; an opportunity to trust God, face some fears, and take a risk. And I have never regretted it. There have been other “lions” in my life that I am glad I did not run from.
They have come in the form of adopting babies from foreign countries, confronting difficult people, auditioning for dramatic roles, starting new jobs and facing financial decisions. Everytime I prayerfully took a risk and faced that “lion,” God worked in my life. And even if the end result wasn’t what I would have chosen, God used it for good.

There are still a few “lions” looming in my vision that I haven’t yet been able to face. But armed with faith in God and the love of supportive people in my life, I hope to jump into those “pits” someday soon.

How about you? Prayerfully consider if there is a challenge in your life God might be asking you to confront. Consider being a “Lion Chaser.” And expect God to work in your life!

The Little Bird Flies Home

We drove out to OH this weekend to see Butterly. I have missed not seeing my girl in two months! I could not wait.

The trip from our home in IL to her college in OH can take 5 peaceful hours or 6 stressful hours, depending on the day of the week and the time of the day and the phase of the moon. This time it was the latter. We hit tons of congestion through Chicago, a bottleneck in Gary, and then came upon myriads of Notre Dame peeps near South Bend. We stopped at a rest area for lunch, and it was jammed with Domers on their way to a game. Being in a place with a bunch of Notre Dame alums at the same time tends to make me cranky. And here’s why: I went to Illinois Wesleyan University, which is a fine school and was a wonderful experience for me. But during my Senior year, my brother began going to Notre Dame, which was my father’s favorite college ever. He was a bit obsessed with it. So then it was all Notre Dame attire and Notre Dame memorabilia all over their house, and Illinois Wesleyan Who?? And I thought I was done with all of that after my bro graduated. But then I happened, by chance, to marry a Notre Dame alum, who came from a Notre Dame family. And, during the early years of our courtship, we hung out with all Super Hubs’ Notre Dame friends. So again it was Notre Dame Pride all the time everywhere I turned, and Illinois Wesleyan who??

Seeing all the rah rah Notre Dame fans crowding the rest area and and then jamming the freeway made me irritated and slowed down our journey. But it was all worth it when I finally got to hug my baby girl once again! We hung out in her dorm room and met her awesome boyfriend, then did a little shopping. Later, we took the two of them out for dinner, along with her roommate. And, over wings and Buffalo fries, they spontaneously decided to come back to IL with us the following day. They had three days left of Fall break.

So it’s been great having Butterly and her two college friends fill our home for the past few days! I’ve enjoyed cooking for them and hearing their boisterous banter. And it has been so comforting to have all three of my children sleeping under our roof for the first time in a few months. It makes my world feel right again.

Plastics And Banana Peels

Sometimes God’s kindness shows up in the most unique of forms. I’ve been engaging in a daily practice of reviewing my day, and noticing where I felt loved. For what moment am I the most grateful?

The answer of the other day showed crystal clear in the form of the Recyling Dude. And it was all because of Columbus. Columbus Day confused me. I thought that since it was a federal holiday, the Garbage and Recycling Collectors would be a day late. So I was surprised when I heard a large truck barreling down the street. I ran down the driveway, and saw the Recycling Dude emptying my next door neighbors’ cans into his truck. He waved a greeting to me, as I raced up to the garage to wheel down my recycling bin.

Then, wondering if the Garbage Collector would be arriving soon as well, I raced back into the house to empty my wastebaskets. I then ran back outside to see the Recycling Dude wheeling my bin all the way up my driveway and into my garage. “Thanks for the extra service!” I exclaimed. “No problem,” he said, smiling. “But I think they already collected the garbage on the street.” He paused. “But I’ll throw it into my truck if you’d like!”

I started. “You can put my garbage in your recyling truck??” I exclaimed. He winked. “I’ll do it if you keep it our little secret. It’ll save you from having to wait another week.” And with that, he grabbed my garbage can, tossed the trash into his truck, and then wheeled it back into my garage.

“You are The Man!” I yelled happily. “And you are The Woman!” he said, and hopped onto his truck and roared away.

A Recycling Dude who gives garage-side service and takes my garbage to boot.....Go him!! A gift of love, in the most unlikely of forms.

I promise I will keep my end of our bargain, and not tell anyone this little secret. It’s the least I can do.

Failed

I took Rock Star to see his Orthopedist because of an issue he was having with his knee. Little Squirt accompanied us, carrying his portable art case which tags along on most outings. While we were waiting, he pulled out some paper and crayons, and asked to play “school” with me.

When the doctor entered the room, I told Little Squirt that’d I couldn’t play with him anymore. To which he responded with a pitiful look and a hurt, “It wasn’t a game, Mom.” And then, while the orthopedist reviewed the xrays, my son handed me a paper on which he’d written an “F.” Apparently I’d failed motherhood. Oy! I've never failed anything in my life!! And to add insult to injury, he then told me, dramatically, “If the doctor would take an xray of my heart right now, he’d see that it has broken into a million pieces.”

Brain Fog Alert

So far the fish oil that my friend recommended I take is working out nicely. I feel loser, more fluid, and I believe I swim better. But I needed to stop taking the supplement for mental well-being because it gave me hives. And that is not good, because I need to take something for my brain.

I fear I am going insane. Or getting dementia. I keep losing things. Like my phone, for one. I lose it constantly. And a leader of my team at church gave me a CD, and between the church building and my car, I somehow lost it. I looked all over the parking lot and all over my vehicle, and I simply couldn’t find it for three days. And then it mysteriously appeared on the floor of my car. And this was after I had already sent an embarassing email to the entire team, admitting that I’d lost the CD ten minutes after it’d been handed to me, and perhaps next time they should pin it to my shirt, just like a kindergartener, and could someone please be on the look-out for the CD or make me another copy? And then I found it, and had to send another mortifying email admitting that it was in the very spot where everyone had told me to look in the first place.

And now I’ve lost my binder. It was a big pink binder with a dozen years worth of paperwork in it for church ministry, along with some scandalous documents of a highly personal nature. (Actually there are no scandalous documents in it, but I thought if I said that, I’d trick the scandal-loving peeps into searching for it.) So I had my binder in the house one day in its usual place, and now it’s gone. Just gone. Gone along with my very last brain cell, which dried up last Thursday, I believe. I’m heartsick.

And besides generally misplacing things, I am riding a roller-coaster of moods, and I keep forgetting the names of movies. And I’ve been sending emails to myself instead of to others. I know what you’re thinking; I’ve always been that way. Diagnosis: Blond. But last week I got lost going to my friends’ house. I wound up in the wrong neighborhood, and part of the reason was that I was listening to an old Spice Girls CD and doing a little car dancin' and not being mindful of the street signs. But still. Getting lost going to a place where I’ve been a million times is weird. Even for me.

A friend of mine said that the years between 40 and 50 are hormonally fluctuating, and women can feel different from day to day. And that Brain Fog is very normal at times, which is also an outcome of the insomnia I’ve been battling. And that women throughout history have navigated perimenopause without alot of drama. I surely hope that is true. I don’t want to end up greasy-haired and holed up in my neighbors’ bushes, like a celebrity tabloid story.

So, my blogger friends, if you have any suggestions for any kind of supplements designed to make my dull brain sharper, I am open to suggestions and willing to try. If I can find my way to the vitamin store again, that is.