Category Archives: Funny Stories

November 22, 2013 · 11:59 pm

I’m still here.

This morning was dark, rainy and grey. And the coffee had coffee grinds at the bottom of the pot. I sat at the table just sort 0f staring out the window. Even two cups of coffee wasn’t helping much in getting me awake, not that it works that instant anyway. Mornings are my favorite time of day: my typical routine usually means getting breakfast, than enjoying coffee with my morning readings. But this morning my mind was just wandering. Then I thought of something funny in terms of my cups of coffee and lack of writing blog posts this week–in a name: Cryin’ Bryan Dern.

I can’t speak for my sisters, but if someone asked me what our favorite pastime was while growing up, I would place listening to Adventures in Odyssey as the number one candidate. In the summers, we could spend hours listening to episodes on cassette tape while coloring or doing crafts; Mom would eventually tell us “One more episode then you need to go outside.” During the school year, we would listen to the episodes at 6pm over the radio. It was always when Mom was cooking dinner; when she used the hand mixer (yes, the old-school kind) it would make the radio have bad static (it already did anyway.) Buzzz…”Mom!!!!!!!” Poor Mom–even if it was an episode we had heard before, the static confusion seemed like a traumatic event and would result in this unanimous outcry.

I had a few favorite episodes, but one that stands out in my mind..that I thought of this morning…is titled, “Top This!” In the episode, there are two story lines: Courtney’s cousin comes to Odyssey to visit for a few weeks. The two cousins, who have a history of competition against each other, embark on an unintentional “race” to see who can make the most money in fundraisers for church youth camp. Losing focus on the real reason for the fundraisers, Mr. Allen helps Courtney learn to not focus on her own winning, but being humble towards her cousin and supporting her when she “wins” just by letting her win.

The second story line involves the outspoken radio host, Cryin’ Bryan Dern. The Odyssey 105 is in need of votes in order to save the station. Bryan Dern sets up this gig in which he takes over the studio and turns the Odyssey 105 into a 24-hour Polka station. As soon as the public hears about Dern “taking the Odyssey 105 station hostage,” the votes begin to pour in–even though it is all fake. It is during this time, Dern has some of the best quotes. And I thought of a few this morning that made me laugh.

Over the course of his 95 hours on the air, Dern gives away countless amounts of Polka cd’s while he starts to get annoyed with the music himself. By the end, with his coffee enthusiasm long gone (in his 25th hour on the air, he already had gone with 30 cups of coffee), Dern goes on to have a moment of silence for a caller’s sick hamster named “Binky;” thinks that Polka music needs something–like, words; and eventually gives up the whole gig altogether when he can no longer think or see straight. I am not as crazy as Dern, but for some odd reason, his question over the air in his final hours– “Whaddaya wanna do?”–somewhat reflected how I felt this week about writing blog posts.

It is not that I’ve had nothing–my week was full of typical tasks that most often I overdid myself. It is as if this “normal routine,” without any doctor appointments or major health slides, has left me with a sense of urgency: to do it all, before anything comes up again. In reality, that attitude will only last me like Bryan Dern’s 95 hours on the air, because there is no foundation if I stand on my own.

“Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand.” ~Proverbs 19:21 ESV

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November 15, 2013 · 9:28 pm

Praise in the Assembly

I recently stumbled across a current documentary on Hulu called, “Behind the Mask.” The series is about team mascots. It follows four guys who come from diverse levels of mascot experience and also their personal lifestyles:

Michael is in high school at Lebanon, PA. Outside academics, he is “Rooty the Cedar Tree.” He uses Rooty to support and bring school spirit for everyone…even the less attended sport events, such as the bowling team.

Jon…nicknamed Jersey–attends the University of Nevada at Las Vegas. He got a scholarship to be the school’s mascot, “Hey Reb.” UNLV is a huge deal in Nevada. Hey Reb’s role is to ensure that the college atmosphere at the games is kept alive.

Chad is the mascot for a minor hockey league team. In outfit, he goes by “Tux” (the Penguin.) Chad hopes to work his way into pro-hockey mascoting. Mascots are not allowed to speak (or not supposed to anyway); Chad found a way for Tux to make squeaky noises. When he visits children’s classrooms on his side job, Tux and his squeaks are sometimes appreciated more than they are at the hockey games…it’s cute. 🙂

Finally, there is Kevin. He is Bango, the official team mascot for the NBA Milwaukee Bucks. He does some of the craziest stunt and dunks during half time shows that I have ever seen! He sometimes includes his children for holding signs to get the crowd cheering–these little bucks in costume sure win the crowd. Every mascot has the chance for injury, but personally, I think Kevin has the most chances…but it never stops him from doing the next crazy idea.

Watching this series has been interesting, mostly because I don’t pay attention to cheerleaders or mascots when attending games; I find them more annoying or a distraction rather than a crowd spirit. Proof, it was only last week that I learned “Who Dey” was the mascot for the Cincinnati Bengals. I was tired of seeing this around (what I considered a slogan), and so I used Google to find out the meaning. Yeah, I felt pretty silly. 🙂

At the end of my high school years, a guy from my class started to be our school mascot. Up until that point, we didn’t use one. I mean, after all, we were the “Pirates”–miles from actual bodies of water mass, thus, living in the sea of potato and barley fields. I always got a laugh out of that aspect. Regardless, I am not sure if our mascot officially livened our school spirit at sport events, but think he did a great job helping the crowd get into the cheers when otherwise we just sat there (yes, guilty.)

In college, we were Cougars. Being a small university, the biggest events were women and men’s basketball games. I attended both, because I had a roommate on the women’s team; everyone attends the guy’s games. The only time I saw our mascot was at the basketball games, in which the biggest stunt performed was running half way across the court, and then sliding over the other half. It was a funny sight to see–I have pictures. I never played anything more than intramural football, but I loved the sport events. My freshman year, I had roommates who played for the women’s soccer team and my sophomore year, I had roommates who played for the volleyball team; my junior year, my direct roommate was on the ladies tennis team. I tried to attended as many of their games as well–even if I felt like I was cheering alone. I was like a “mascot” for our room every year–the only non-athletic one, but I could cheer and take pictures which I enjoyed!

In the mornings, I often read a few Psalms. I find them encouraging and a great reminder to start my day with praise even when I don’t have the energy or mind-set. They are not a “mascot;” God surely doesn’t need those, nor cheerleaders. But the psalmist often write that they will proclaim God’s name, steadfast love, and goodness in or to the assembly. They never wore a mask, but sometimes their meditation was all night long…in solitude and remembrance. At other times, they were not quiet about their love for the Lord. They didn’t just say it–they shouted it, made music and even in their times of mourning…they made known that God was their strength and salvation.

I find when I am around other individuals who live in this way–proclaiming God’s faithfulness, steadfast love and goodness both through the good and bad times–whether in speech or just living their lives in testimony of it, that it becomes a contagious attitude. It reminds me to keep my focus on doing the same.

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November 2, 2013 · 10:19 pm

Be My Refuge

This morning’s breakfast routine started in normal fashion. It wasn’t until I got up from where I was eating at the counter that I noticed a small dog running around on the back patio. Mom had left me a note saying she had already fed Muffy, so I hadn’t bothered to go out before I started preparing my meal.

Glancing out the door, I figure Muffy is long gone by this time and started to wonder where the dog came from; he had a collar and when I opened the door to say, “Go home,” it started nosing against the screen door like Muffy when he wants to be pet. Cute dog, but when it started eating Muffy’s food, my tone in voice changed and I got loud, waking Marcia up in the mean time.

With my balance so off as of late, even going out to feed Muffy is tricky with the back porch steps, let alone Muffy rubbing against my legs and circulating around me wanting to be pet, I often just have to stand there holding the one handle attached to the side door. This dog, I could tell, would be even worse as it was a bit of the hyper type, so I did not really venture out until it left the patio. Marcia did get a chance to look at his tag; it was our neighbor’s dog. Marcia and I watched him run under the patio and since we couldn’t do anything about that we just went on to continuing breakfast.

As we were finishing, Marcia states randomly, “I think he has Muffy up the tree.” Sure enough, this pup is frantically jumping, circling, howling, barking at the tree. I didn’t know Muffy still climbed trees as he is “getting up there in cat years,” but I have to admit, I was quite impressed! 🙂

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Once we figured out how to get the visitor back to his fenced yard (I was also impressed by the size of the hole he made in the fence), it was time to try to get Muffy out of the tree. Marcia stood underneath coaxing him and trying to help him, but Muffy was not moving. I didn’t want him in the tree as we were planning on being gone for a few hours, so I decided to step out on the back patio and just try calling his name to see if that would help. I blurt out, “Muffy…here kitty, kitty, kitty.” Within a few seconds, I see black move in the tree and watch as he makes his way down (again, impressive) and run up the patio towards me. I just stood there, holding my handle–swooped down and gave him a good pet.

This week, I have been reading the Psalms and often found myself in the Gospel of John as well. The Psalms make reference to God being a refuge. I love this imagery. A refuge for me is like a fort…strong, protection, a place where I feel safe. I also think of it in terms of comfort, a place of warmth. I think the reminder of those images is like a backdrop to remembering the promise that God will never leave me nor forsake me (Deuteronomy 31:6). Jesus never said this world would be easy (John 16:33), but my Refuge is unwavering for all eternity.

My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me. And I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; neither shall anyone snatch them out of My hand.

John 10: 27-28 NKJV

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August 26, 2013 · 10:47 pm

Looking Upward

Over the weekend, I finally accomplished putting into chronological order and placing my college to present pictures in photo albums. It brought back many great memories. As I sorted, I found these pictures that made me laugh at the memory of the evening:

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During my years living in the Denver area, I lived in a neighborhood called Bel Mar. On the corner of Wadsworth and Alameda, this was the rising place for living and shopping. The Target I was employed at was about fifteen minutes from Bel Mar…connected to a flat mall that had an indoor mile track that ran its course around the stores. I enjoyed a mile walk on my lunch breaks. I think every mall should be modeled after that one.

Even though there were a few Target stores in the area, Bel Mar also built one a few months before I moved. It was one of the “new city” model styles where the parking garage was underneath on the “first floor,” making the actual retail store on the second floor, all of course equipped with escalators, a stairway, and an elevator. I opted for the escalators.

Mom came to Denver every other week to help me on my chemo weekends. After the grand opening of Target (we had watched it being built over time), I wanted to show her the inside of the new Target. Up until this point, I had only been in a few times, because it was more convenient for me just to get my needs and groceries from my Super Target rather than stop at another one on the way home. But with Mom, we had grabbed a few groceries and as we left, I made a discovery: they even had an escalator for your carts!!! I was laughing so hard, Mom was afraid I would fall down our own escalator. 🙂

Currently, I have recently developed a phobia of walking down the stairs. Going up the stairs is not a problem; just coming down. Too many falls in the past few months has triggered this phobia, but I can’t say that I had really classified it as a fear up until a few weeks ago when I mentioned it to a friend. Now I am not even sure if it is just the stairs I fear falling–I think it is falling in general.

With my balance continuing to worsen, I have now restarted Physical Therapy, but it takes place here at my house. Due to the decline of function in my hands (especially the right hand), I will also be starting soon some sessions of Occupational Therapy. The reason for having the sessions here at home is to help me with my everyday living. For example, because I started my first PT session last week, we did a huge overview of my current conditions and discussed the areas in which I need assistance. Most of my current frustrations deal in the realm of OT, but balance was a major issue for me in PT. She gave me a suggestion for going down the stairs sideways, but to be honest, it doesn’t make me feel any better about the decline. As for right now we are mainly focusing on extra balancing exercises to accompany the PT strengthening exercises I have been doing already.

To access my current conditions, my therapist had me perform some “strength and mobility” tests. I can only stand on one foot for a mere one or two seconds…and standing with one foot in front of the other depends on which foot is placed first. Considering I have had two blood clots in my left leg, don’t be surprised to hear that it is my stronger leg. I think it always has been to be honest. When we lived in Colorado, I did get the chance to learn how to snowboard before my balance would no longer permit the activity. My Dad insisted that my sister and I take a half day of lessons before we just went out on our own. At the rental shop, when deciphering which foot you will put forward on the board, the rental personal did a little test. He had me turn around and gave me a slight nudge. I put my left foot forward first. He said, “You’re a regular foot.” (A right foot is called a goofy foot.) I think if anyone gave me a little nudge today, I would just fall over.

I am seeing the reality that my balance and falling will worsen. I have no control over it. There are days when I am to the point of tears at my balance. Other days, I find humor in it. I think it parallels the balance of life: days when strength is strong and days when strength is weak…in both I need to keep looking upwards, knowing when I fall, He still stands.

I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.

Psalm 121: 1-2 ESV

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July 25, 2013 · 1:16 pm

When I Grow Up

Do you remember sitting in elementary school and being asked the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Like an early career fair, sometimes you wrote a paragraph on the topic or discussed it in class when guest speakers came to relate their exciting tales of their specific job positions.

However, to be honest, I don’t ever remember someone specifically asking me this question (besides the classroom setting as a whole) or if I ever gave a specific answer. I have tried to think back to see if I can remember, but I think my career interests back then until the time I reached high school were merely daydreams. I do remember at a young age seeing an orchestra perform on television and that is when I decided I would someday learn to play the flute. When this turned into a reality, I then ventured to dream that I would play in an orchestra…maybe a famous soloist. Well, I did get my solo moments in concert band. We may not have been an orchestra, but I consider performing Georges Bizet’s songs from his opera Carmen a good try (plus it was my favorite solo moment.)

There were other daydreams. I had always wanted to be a singer in a band. I strummed my air guitar or keyboard as I jammed to the music. Being an over dramatic girl, I played the roles of Florence Nightingale or once pretended to be a doctor. I sat on the side of my bed, clip board in the left hand, and stared at my invisible patient. As I went on to explain how the eye is connected to the brain, my invisibility was intruded when my sister (unknown to me) walked in on my consultation. Yes, the eye is connected to the brain, and somehow that was the funniest scientific truth my sister had ever encountered.

It was not until high school that I started to take interest in careers that were more than daydreams. Once I discovered I had interest in the world of business, I filled my schedule with classes such as Accounting I and II, Marketing, computer courses (much has changed in technology since then!) and I jumped at the opportunity to be an editor of our school yearbook. After I graduated, my job at the local florist shop gave me experience in every area, with my favorite of handling the money transactions or office management, such as mail and filing. It came to no surprise then when I started college with an Accounting major in mind. After failing miserably on my mid-term in Accounting II, I realized that the subject was way over my head and focused my emphasis on Management instead.

The funny part about having a degree is that sometimes it pertains nothing to your current career. To make a living while finishing college, I worked as a cashier–even after graduating. I slowly gained responsibility and trained to be a cash officer, which ironically, resembles an accountant’s role minus taxes and payroll. I enjoyed this and for the first time felt I had “a career.”

I was crushed when I felt God calling me to end my career that I loved last October, but I see now that it was His timing as the winter brought all the health battles. By the time March rolled in, I was feeling myself again physically and was becoming bored. So I restarted job searching. I wrote once back in college, “Job hunting is like chasing a white rabbit in the snow.” My sister wrote me back and commented, “That’s a simile.” I don’t have any clever similes up my sleeve this time, but I will say that the search has been frustrating. Not because there are no jobs on the market, but because I am not physically what I was even two months ago and I guess I question what I can actually perform in the world of work.

I know work means many things–there is work where you get paid or you can volunteer your time and work to serve others, both being honorable positions as long as the motive in your heart is pure. Colossians 3:17 says, “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” I enjoy the times of volunteering–even if it is just time spent with a friend on a lunch date. But I also have a desire to work and finally admitted I needed help in that process, so I contacted the Bureau of Vocational Rehabilitation. After being approved for their services, I had another meeting with them yesterday to continue the process.

I was still uneasy about the meeting, but over breakfast I did more brainstorming on different areas that I wanted to discuss with the counselor. As I finished my coffee, I set out to finish the last chapter in the devotional book I started about a month ago. God’s timing of words spoken to the heart never cease to amaze me. And so I read:

Out of all history, God chose this time for you to be on earth.

We may think back with regret on who we wish we’d been. We may look forward with fear about who we might (or might not) become. But the only place where we can offer ourselves, where God can use us, is the moment we’re in right now.

Gerth, Holley. You’re Already Amazing. Grand Rapids, MI: Revell, 2012. (180-181).

I may not kn0w my future career, or the timing of it how it will all come together, but I can rest assured…life is more than the aimless chasing of white rabbits in the snow.

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July 16, 2013 · 5:04 pm

Weekend Rewind…

How much fun can you fill in a weekend?

Let me recount the ways:

It all started when we picked up my sister this past Friday from the airport. Her visit has been anticipated for weeks! We did not give her much time to catch a breath as the first of festivities was Chic Fil A for dinner. Friday, July 12th, marked Chic Fil A’s annual “Cow Appreciation Day” in which you dress like a cow and get free chicken. Last year I had a harder time gathering a herd to come with me, but this year it was the complete opposite.

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After enjoying our meal, we headed back home for dessert: Whoopie pies!!! (Yes, I know…the irony of it but they were already made the day before when we had company for dinner). It was such a nice evening, we went out to the patio. Megan caught fireflies and we had some tea. We helped my mom pick the last of her green beans off the stalks and soon after called it a night.

Saturday started out relaxing. Around lunch we headed over to Beans-n-Cream to see my paintings then went to Stoney Creek Roasters for lunch.

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We ventured to Yellow Springs for a few hours and enjoyed the shops. I started to get tired at this point, but after a LifeWater and fruit snack, I regained some needed energy. When we got home, dinner was served out on the patio and then it was suggested that we spend the rest of the wonderful evening playing put-put golf at Young’s Jersey Dairy.

It was already eight pm when we started out the door for Yellow Springs (again). Right before we got to Young’s, there is a sunflower field. It was too pretty to pass up the opportunity for a few pictures!

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We arrived at Young’s and began our game right at the start of dusk. By the time we were about halfway through the course, it was dark. They have lights on the course but not all were working. Considering my balance already when it is dark plus bending half over to swing my putter and the randomness of put-put course hills, I did quite well. My strategy: Don’t look down, just hit the golf ball. Results: Par in 1. (Just once but it was so cool!) We had a system down in which when it was my turn, whoever had my golf ball would place it on the ground at the starting point. When I made it in the hole, someone would bend over and retrieve it for me. Instead of waiting on the curb, I most often stood on the grass course and just moved my feet if a golf ball came in my direction. I learned that the putter can be a used as a great cane when needed for balance and my family helped when needed too. It was a fun evening, and most of all, exciting to say that “I played put-put golf in the dark.”

Sunday I attended church with my family. There is no interpreter there, so as much as I tried lip-reading, the most I got out of the sermon was from the power point slides. The pastor spoke of God’s faithfulness. I couldn’t help but think of Third Day’s song “Your Love Oh Lord,” which is based on the verses in Psalm 36:

Your love, Lord, reaches to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the skies.
Your righteousness is like the highest mountains,
your justice like the great deep.
You, Lord, preserve both people and animals.
How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!
People take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
They feast on the abundance of your house;
you give them drink from your river of delights.
For with you is the fountain of life;
in your light we see light.

It was a reminder to me of God’s faithfulness in my life. I was able to think about this more as after lunch I finished a questionnaire for a research study on the social/psychological effects of living with profound hearing loss (or deafness). It was a lengthy endeavor that dug deep into the past–resurfacing memories and emotions…altered dreams. But it was good for me as well–to see the bigger picture since then and how God has brought me to this point in life of living with deafness.

Living with deafness also means when you go to a play (unless you have an interpreter), you don’t hear anything. To celebrate birthday festivities, my older sister and brother-in-law joined us that evening for the La Comedia Dinner and Theatre production of Peter Pan.

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We had an amazing meal (thanks to the waiter who went down and got my plate of food for me), amazing cheesecake (with “fairy dust” on top–aka sprinkles) and enjoyed a phenomenal performance!! We were close enough to see the lines that were attached to Peter Pan and the kids when they flew around the nursery.

Like I said, I could not hear anything. I take that back–I heard soft mumbling, but could not understand anything. Have you ever tried lip-reading at a play? It is not even worth it when you can enjoy watching facial expressions and actions on the floor anyway. I did, however, hear the drums when Princess Tiger Lily and her tribe did their dance. That was my favorite part. 🙂

And so our weekend came to a close–one week over, another about to begin.

What makes a fun-filled weekend so great?
Let me recount the ways: family.

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July 9, 2013 · 8:00 am

The end of my boy-band days

Since you are my friends, I will tell you a secret. After all, that is what friends do. I was in love. Yes, seventh grade and I knew I had found love. Every generation seems to have this love or at least the infatuation of the term: boy band. I don’t know much music history, but I am pretty sure this phenomena started before The Beetles.

My era was the Millennium. Yes, that was even the title of the best Backstreet Boys album. (Actually, the only one I ever listened to of their recordings.) Among the many during that time, I focused my obsession on the Christian pop boy band, Plus One. I saved up my allowance and bought their album The Promise on cassette tape. (Yes, cassette tape!!!) I memorized their songs, read the magazine articles, followed their Myspace, and daydreamed endless hours of meeting them in person. I never went to a concert.

Needless to say, by the time I reached high school, I had a little more self-control on my emotions. But I still listened their Christmas album for weeks after my surgery. Jason Perry could sing those high notes on “Oh Holy Night” so perfectly that I had no choice but to hit the back button and listen to it again.

Like all boy bands, there comes a day when they are no more. Your favorite decides to part their ways and seek other directions, much to the tears of the fans. I kept my copies of the cd’s but only listened to them here and there when cleaning my room or doing a workout. I never touched the cd’s in college. I hid my secret; only my RA and roommate knew as the song “Written on my Heart” came on over K-Love on our way to church. Now I am in the final stage: my cd’s are in the thrift store pile. I said goodbye to those cute little faces I had once been in love with–and that is that. (Ok, secret: I kept the cassette tape, only because it is a cassette tape. It is like an antique of my childhood days.)

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I am not just saying goodbye to my boy band days. It has come to the point where listening to music is more frustrating (if I can even hear it) than it is enjoyable. But unlike the boy band tears, I am surprisingly unemotional about this predicament. Even more surprising that I found pure joy in deciding who would receive the last of my cd’s…to whom I bequeath the classics and oldies. (Secret: I kept one cd–Nancy Honeytree. She was the first of music I remember listening to as a child. I went to a concert and sang her songs in church. It is now added to my “Special Box” with the cassette tape.)

Sure, there are things about music that I miss being able to follow–like watching movies and hearing the soundtrack; jamming to the “oldies” in my car (but on long road trips, I substitute for a book in its place, read from the backseat and do just fine); or my favorite of falling asleep to the sounds of music. Honest thoughts here: this may all sound sad, terrible, or unfair–yes, it is all those things–but that is not what I feel. I am satisfied. I was brought to this point slowly. I think the change first started when I painted the simple bird for my dad’s birthday three years ago. Music is not out of my life entirely–I may not be able to physically hear it with my ears, but it is in me. It always has been. Always will be.

Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything.

~Plato

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June 30, 2013 · 5:26 pm

Confidence

This morning was one of those mornings. Not that I got started off with the wrong foot, but definitely the wrong shoes! I should start paying closer attention to my gut feeling that says, “This is not going to work.” Now I like to be optimistic, but that little voice inside tried to warn me that the dress I was trying on in the Target fitting room was too small. “It’s so cute, I want to try it anyway.” I get stuck. Thankfully my Mom was shopping with me that day. Lesson learned (at least for shopping).

You would think from my Cinderella shoe experience that I would have learned to follow signs that it might not be a good day to wear certain shoes. Think again. The cause: they completed my Sunday morning outfit (even to the choice of earrings). The effect: I was tripping in them even before I left the house. “If I walk slow I will do fine.” Even slow was not working. I get to the church door and the man who greeted me acted calm but I wonder what he was actually thinking. I said, “Good morning!” Then tripped and said, “Stupid shoes.” I never fell, but on the way out of church I was having such a hard time, I just slipped off my shoes and went barefoot to the car. The shoes are now in the thrift store pile. As cute as they are, they just have to go.

This morning, the message was on Psalm 16; “A Psalm of Confidence.” On the drive home, I was thinking of how the message was exactly what I needed to hear in encouragement and truth that “Confidence in the Lord means that I trust Him regardless.” It was like preparation for the days to come.

As I am still thinking, before you know it, one of my favorite movies comes to mind: Rogers & Hammerstein’s The Sound of Music. It could have been my shoe experience or emphasis on the word, “confidence,” but I started to laugh as I could picture Maria (played by Julie Andrews) singing and doing her fancy feet work in the song, “I Have Confidence.”

http://www.rnh.com/videos.html?video=109&gallery=170&vpg=7

[Fancy feet – 2:30; my feet – 3:46] 🙂

I definitely don’t trust my feeble ankles or my shoes to preserve me when I walk, but I have confidence in the One who is able: “I have set the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.” Psalm 16:8

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June 15, 2013 · 5:23 pm

Nature’s Night Lights

Random fact #0613: Mel sleeps with a nightlight. Two actually. One in my main room off on the side left wall and another in the bathroom which I can see from my bed. I am not afraid of the dark–I just don’t like the dark due to bad balance. My night lights serve as a safety purpose, without them, I fall.

I will leave you to imagine how I look when I walk in the dark. Darkness is the reason why I do not especially care for winter months. In the summer, I can still be outside around 9pm and be fine. When it finally gets dark, it is best that I have assistance…usually an arm from a person walking beside me or if I go out on the back patio to feed Muffy his bed-time snack, I initially hold on to the rail by the door to balance then take it slow to a chair (plus the patio lights are on and I stay in the lighted area).

I find it is easiest to wait for Muffy to finish eating by just sitting. Thus, I sat last night with no thoughts–just staring into the darkness ahead of me. Then it happened…Fireflies!!! I have been waiting for this moment since the start of Spring! In my mind, it is now the official start of Summer!!

I remember fireflies when we lived in Toledo until I was six. After the move to Colorado, our days of seeing fireflies were limited to when we took family vacations back out east to visit family and friends. Once when visiting friends near Chicago, we were taking a walk and fireflies came out. All of a sudden, gleeful cries and the pursuit of catching them took place…never mind the fact that we were teenagers. I still find it fun to catch fireflies and last night in my excitement, I banged on the window and yelled, “I just saw a firefly!!” I even held up my arms like a victory field goal, which probably looked and sounded more like George Bailey wishing Mr. Potter a “Merry Christmas” in It’s a Wonderful Life.

Although Colorado does not have fireflies, I don’t think that it ever bugged me. (Bugged: haha, Mel humor!!) I know this because God provided a different form of fireflies: nature’s fireflies. Best part was that I did not have to wait for certain seasons to see them. From our backyard, in complete darkness, the vastness of the evening sky and the twinkling of unfathomable numbers of stars was far greater than trying to catch fireflies.

A few months ago at dinner, I told my mom that I was having a hard time reading Holley Gerth’s blog posts, because all this talk about having God-sized dreams left me feeling like I was sitting in a closet with the lights turned off. “I don’t have any God-sized dreams,” I said. Truth…I still don’t–at least I do not recognize them at the time. Not only my Mom, but countless others have kindly reminded me that I don’t have to do big things to be used by God. Even the tiniest star in the sky is still visible, just because it shines–and it shines even brighter when surrounded by others doing the same.

“Shine like stars across the land.” Philippians 2:15b (The Voice)

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June 11, 2013 · 11:57 pm

Being a Kid…

When we sisters were little, we liked to pretend–anything from making “houses” out of oversized cardboard boxes to playing in make-shift tents out of blankets between our beds or chairs from the kitchen. We also loved to play “spy” in which we would draw maps of our house and set out a course to spy on people in various rooms…which usually was just my Mom in the kitchen who would pretend not to see us. Yes, countless hours of sister fun (and the bickering that seems inevitable in the equation.)

One thing we did occasionally was pretend to sign when entering the grocery store. We would decide before-hand as we exited the car who would be “deaf.” Coming from a small farm town in which everyone knows everyone, this probably seemed like comedy to the onlookers at the store, because everyone knew we were a hearing family..but being a kid that thought never crossed my mind.

My experience with knowing about sign language came at an early age. In the second grade, there was a girl who was Deaf in the classroom next to ours. We often joined classes together for games, crafts, or different lessons so I first saw an interpreter at that time. Not knowing any signs, I would at least try to communicate to the girl at recess by making up motions and pointing to the merry-go-round to see if she wanted to play. If yes, then a smile and the sign for “yes” or a nod of the head and if no, then she would sign to me then just point where she wanted to play. She left after that year to attend the School for the Blind and Deaf. But it was the beginning of sign language for me.

I leaned how to sign “The Pledge of Allegiance” in elementary school, but signing otherwise did not take great interest in me until my oldest sister came back from her junior high church camp and taught me how to sign “Shout to the Lord.” The first summer church camp I attended as a “going into the 7th grade” camper had different afternoon sessions you could choose for activities. I am not entirely sure (ok, NOT SURE AT ALL) where I thought the idea of playing dodge ball would be a great opportunity for fun…because as it turned out, I was the only girl (go figure). I could have done the sign language session–what a poor decision on my part–however, I did have a tiny bit of fun at dodgeball. I just made it a point to get hit, then did nothing until the next game started. Great strategy! And this did not stop me from learning the sign language song either–since all my friends had taken that session and practiced the entire way home, I picked up on it really fast. That was the year I learned Mercy Me’s hit, “I Can Only Imagine.”

It was my freshman year of high school that I desired to learn more sign language. Switching church camps meant there was no longer any formal instruction for learning songs, so I set out to do it on my own. One of the leaders for our youth group was majoring in ASL, so she helped me get a used textbook from the college bookstore. Best $20 ever spent. The dictionary is massive…I still own it. I did acquire another book later in high school and refer to that book most often. (And just for the record–library book sales can be a source of hidden treasures. Yep, believe it–but I just attained my final sign language dictionary for 50 cents!!!)

My signing story is most likely familiar from this point on in life–high school enabled me to be part of leading worship at church whether in the praise band playing bass guitar or signing songs. I took a community ASL class with my Dad and in college I took an ASL 1 course the summer before I started using interpreters full-time at school.

One part of my past history with signing that always brought me great joy was leading the “Sing and Play” at Vacation Bible School. This beginning part of the kids time at VBS was where we sang songs, introduce the Bible buddy/point of the day and perform a little skit. (My sister and I did an epic skit of a horse stampede in which she ran on stage to save me, using that “save a person action” like the movies or commercials…where you run in at full speed and push the person over to safety at the same time you are holding them. We had the kids on the edge of their seats. 🙂 Favorite VBS memory!)

I knew it would be my last year leading this part of VBS, because (1) the next summer I had plans that I would move to Denver with roommates to work and finish school and (2) I could no longer follow words with songs. I have not helped with a VBS since then until this year, although I did volunteer with a kids ministry in Downtown Denver until the move to OH. In early May, when my church announced this year’s VBS dates, I signed up to help serve in the kitchen. I figured this was easiest to help. I knew I would not be a crew leader, due to the fact I can’t hear and my physical body is not in the best condition. In the few days before, plans changed and I was all set to help in the pre-school as a helper for a crew leader. I was told I would just be an extra set of eyes. Seemed reasonable and something I could do.

My group learned a few valuable lessons the first day which has made the past two days since then flow more smoothly:

Mel does not sit on the floor as she can’t stand up without assistance or somewhat falling over; I now am entitled to a chair. 🙂

Mel is not good at holding onto her snacks–if they fall on the cement then it is not edible (today it was my whole bowl of trail mix).

Mel’s crew leader used to be an interpreter and signs everything…which meant the first day, all the five groups in our specific pre-school animal category were exposed to sign language/interpreter action. For my own group, lots of questions were asked…being a kid, they are curious, but the moment they know the answer to “Why?”, life goes on. Sweet days of innocence.

As for me, I got home and wondered what I was thinking when I said yes to helping in pre-school!?! I felt out-of-place, as well as a huge distraction, because I needed extra help and attention. I finally came to the conclusion that I am not a distraction but an opportunity for these kids to see that we are all made different and that we can help each other. VBS week is nearing an end and I know this is the last of my days working with children, but I cherish them because the eyes of a five-year old don’t see a helper with physical problems–they see Mel. And it leaves me with a longing to be like a kid again…

Matthew 19:14, “Let the little children come to Me; do not get in their way. For the kingdom of heaven belongs to children like these.”

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