Compassion, ya'll.

Ok, so the title doesn't quite scream out intelligence. Matter of fact, I probably need to change it. (No, Jenny, just roll with it.)  I'm going into a small tad of Tuesday morning, social-media confession, I scan my Facebook from my smart phone in the mornings before I arise. (Guilty.) I lie and tell myself it's for news purposes. (I know. I know. It's a lie.) A top story shared by KARK and Fox16 provides the details of an Arkansas Death Row Inmate's death at our local county hospital. I click the link. Joe Dansby, a convicted man of Capitol Murder (2 counts), died. Then, I scroll the comments. (WHY? Why else, it's social media. No really, why did I subject myself to that?)  There it begins. The comments. My heart is empty sick as if my heart had vomited as violent as first trimester morning sickness or bad buffet meat.  As it is, my mind bounces back between the created images of the victims to Mr. Dansby's crimes to inmate photo of Mr. Dansby to the mourning Dansby family to comments of  "saving tax payers money" and (this one... really got me, you may want to skip it.) "kill them all." (I forewarned you.) Death. Death is a loss regardless of the point of origin. My mind again begins to fill with images, only this time, with the images of the cross. My Savior there between the two other convicted men, the compassion that flowed from the middle cross and continues to flow today. Where would I be without that compassion? I'll can guess. LOST. DONE. DEATH. And a good chance with my road rage and other female contributed anger, possibly a convict with the ADC. (Joking, but you get my point*.) Compassion somehow gets mixed with judgment to make an ugly color. My mind holds compassion as this brilliant red that washes everything white, pure, gracefully sparkling; isn't that how it worked over 2000 years ago.  (And still working today I might add!) Then my minds rushes to the thief on the cross, what his face may have looked like, possibly like Inmate Dansby, to the crowd that appeared that day to watch those on the crosses suffer and die. Then I want to comment, "Compassion, ya'll." Jesus did it. Hello. (or HelllllRRR in my bestest Madea voice) That means we ALL should too!

2 Corinthians 1:3-4 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. 

**Dear Reader.
I  too have many moments of non-compassion of which my Savior and I chat about on a daily basis. If you are reading this, you have probably witnesses some of the ugly. Please consider this as my disclaimer.
The Chief Sinner, Jenny. →→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→

Catching a magic moment.

Right Now. I instantly go to the Pepsi commercial... 1994, and then I go to Mrs. Bryant's first period English class. Andy Bridges suggested the song. I was third seat. First row. Judith Taylor; Shawn Thurber in front of my desk. Christy Bowerman behind me. To my left, Ladonna Bosley. Kristi Furr. Kim McBride.  It's funny I can remember that, but can't remember to get toilet paper until I'm back on the road headed home from the grocery store. What gives? 

 

Right now, hey 
It's your tomorrow 
Right now, 
C'mon,it's everything 
Right now, 
Catch a magic moment, do it 
Right here and now 
It means everything 

We just had our 20th Reunion Weekend. Nothing fancy, but simple and easy.  It was a small crowd, but we were a small class.  As I laughed during the evening with our classmates, it hit me, Right Now - that moment was our tomorrow 20 years ago. I am pretty certain that in May, 1994, we didn't really care if we seen the majority our classmates 20 years later or not. We'd spent the last 12 years together. We'd seen it all. Everyday. We had witnessed each others paths, the good, the bad, and the ugly.... hit fast forward (& someone hit it quick because WOW, it's flown by); June, 2014, the path from 20 years ago, the good, the bad, and the ugly... it didn't matter.  We laughed. And laughed some more.  And laughed again. For some of you that may not know, I married my jr.high/high school sweetheart. At one point, I looked down the table at the Mr. The Mr. laughs a lot. Everyday. But this laugh was different, he was laughing in a manner that I have not witnessed in years. This laugh was special, it made a 20 year comeback. The laugh could only be produced by childhood/teenage guy friends. Lucky Ross to be exact. It was good to see that laugh on my husband's face again. Matter of fact, it was good to see the laughs on lots of faces last night. I caught a magic moment. Right here and now, it means everything. They say laughter is good for the soul. 20 year old laughter is really, really good for the soul and so is the time with friends that remember the original magic moment.   

Closing the Christmas Chapter.

Gracious, already turned the page on another Christmas holiday this week. The month of December came in like a lion. Family schedules can be so harsh but delightful all at the same time. Jeremy and I didn't know how we, oh wait, that was me, would we get it all taken care of before it was over; however, we did, but not before some long moments of silence, a married couple glare or two (or maybe three), or a family fit in the car. (Go ahead, cast that stone, I'm sure you and your family have never endured a fit in the car!) We survived the busiest weekend of the month less electricity. The Christmas pageant at church was presented to congregation. We enjoyed our family gatherings with fabulous food and laughs. My husband awarded me with my annual 2013 survival patch for the receiving of the snide remarks of a certain family member that must shoot and aim while I'm in her darling presence. (Everyone has that ONE in their family, right?) Rockie, our family Elf, was ever present. Santa delivered just as Sloan and Josie thought he may; Skylar was pleased with the givings of the season. I savored every moment of paper demolishing just as every shopping mom does! We gathered again and ate more. The Circus was tired, a few even cranky. One additional family gathering and we were in the clear for the season. The parental mindset is just one more. One more. Done. Keep on going. While traveling to the last stop, the car was quiet. Not too much left to be said or at least that's what I thought. So much happens when we're making too much noise to hear!  Sloan, who had been in the ultimate state of cranky sisterhood, whispers in the middle seat... "Jos" "Jos, are you asleep?" Josie: "Nope." Sloan: "Jos... Jos, I love you."  BE. STILL. HEART. My HEART was instantly FULL. Not from the gifts, not from the food, not from the family gatherings, but from that quiet, tired car ride to our last stop, I received my favorite gift of the 2013 season. I then pondered, in the lion roar at the beginning of the month, in the Christmas music, in the sounds of loading and unloading the Circus to and from, in the sounds of my fussing, in the sounds of my tired groans, the sounds of the mountains braking into pieces, the winds howling around me, after the earthquake, a fire (hold on, not literal, with the exception of the brief moment making Gorilla Bread,!) my, my, what OTHER whispers had I missed!  Did I sport that "Elijah hat" all month long and miss the still small voice? As the chapter comes to a close, I sit back and enjoy the blessing of the lesson of the quiet whisper that I did hear. May God bless our Circus with a quiet, whispering filled 2014, in which we hear!  

And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake: and after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice. 1 Kings 19:11-13 

The Art of Thanksgiving.

Southern hospitality and general manners require the reply of "thank you" when you receive anything from another person. This is an act, as parents, we have attempted to teach and engrave into our children. It must have finally caught on because the third of the three is the most genuine with her "thank you", the first and the second, well, maybe a testament to our parenting, but it's a work in progress. Polite, yes; genuine, maybe, not so much. Again, work in progress. 

I get amused at the level of annoyance people reach from the Facebook postings around this time of the year. I love it because I enjoy reading the differences in the people.  I also enjoy the annoyed posts, but again, I love reading about the differences in the people.  

Thanksgiving is an art. Now, my first thought, because I love to eat and more than that, I love and respect my Mamaw to such a degree that no words in my vocabulary exist or amount of saying it a loud that will express it, but my first thought of Thanksgiving is Mamaw behind her stove in her kitchen. [She has a counter-top cook stove with an bar across from it and the BEST conversations and laughs have happened with Mamaw on one side and us girls on the other!] The smell that greets you when you step out of the car, yes, in the yard, is a smell of love! Prepared love! Baked loved! Gravy inspired.... you get the image. If you can sneak into the house and by the recliner housing a snoozing Papaw without Mamaw actually greeting you at the door, you will walk into her dinning room and catch the Lady of the House guarding her stove and tending the pots of gold. Thanksgiving! Now, my heart is fully aware that chances are, this is not an experience I will have for my entire lifetime, which brings me to the art of Thanksgiving. My heart is truly thankful at that moment each year. Truly thankful! Like David pouring out his thankful heart into the Psalms. If I had a harp, and could play a harp, you'd hear it, because I've got the David "thanks" going on! 

Thank you should not just be a polite gesture. I am one to believe that "thank you" is very similar to "love you". I believe "tk u" should not be tossed around. It's important. Say it when you mean it. I am guilty because I try to be polite and mannerly... I say I "try". And again, Jeremy and I attempt to teach our children polite manners. But I'll be honest, I want my children to say "thank you" when they mean it; not because it's expected.  See, it's an art; to have a genuinely thankful heart.  

... in EVERYTHING give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 1 Thessalonians 5:18. 

 

I give thanks for... Jesus Christ. Jeremy. Skylar. Josie. Sloan. Mamaw. Heated seats. Quality sheets. Sonic unsweet tea. Palazzo pants... Happy Thanksgiving all!  

The Break Up

Break ups are terrible! You read about them on the tabloids while waiting to check out at your local grocery store. You read about them on Facebook. You hear about them at sporting events. It's never a positive story. My break up is no different. And to add insult to injury it was on the phone! Yes, the phone! Because I enjoy blogging and it clears my mind, let me break down the break up for you. It went down like this: "Yes, hello, I need to make an appointment for my husband." The receptionist replies with the busy time of the year, everyone's sick response of "sorry, we don't have anything today." Now in the back of my mind, I made an appointment last week and was told the same thing, only, it was added, kindly, "no appointments today, unless you're sick." Ok, I get that. My appointment was for only for prescription refill. I make it when available and roll with it. Again, I understand. Today, was a bit different. Now, I briefly explain to the office staff that he is not running fever, but it's possible he has a small staph infection on his finger. (LONG story, but trust me) and again, "we don't have anything."  "He will have to wait." Now, in falls the interesting part. I say, not with a tone, a simple person to person question, because if you don't ask, you will not know. Correct?  Me: "are the appointments booked for everyone including the nurse practitioner?"  Often with this particular office, you need to specify.  And it goes south, fast, "[HUFF]. YES." "I told YOU we were full."  ....... pause..... she just HUFFED me. A patient. Long time. Over a question. I am still wearing my Nice Hat, because in all honesty, the stomach bug has hit our house and I am too tired to be snippy. Snippy takes energy. I am all out!  After the huff and the toned YES comes this.... ready, it's THE BREAK UP.  "If the clinic's schedule or policy does not fit the needs of your family any longer, let me suggest you find another clinic to suit your family's needs." BAM. Just like that. My doctor's office broke up with my family. I'm left clinging to the phone. Shocked. Single. And now alone on the phone.  Does Dr. know she just broke up with my family?   

Now, I am running all sorts of scenarios through my mind as often you do when there has been a break up. I should have said this, I should of said that, did I offend this way, did I offend that way. One random Wednesday call ended it all; a long term medical relationship, gone.  In all fairness, due to my employment, I go out of my way to understand anyone's staff and the position and the moment. I am fully aware my family is not the only patient and never have I acted as so. I am patient when I have to ask twice for a pharmacy call; I pay my bill. But, I just got dumped! Break ups are not easy; especially when it's "sick season with three kids". 

 

Busy Badge, take II.

And then I see this.... I had to share - before I got too busy!!  (jk)

Put that "Busy Badge" away!

My pal, Haley, pinned a quote recently that I just cannot stop thinking about.  Stop the glorification of busy! My heart stopped.  - - That's it! I have waited for just the proper thing to say for ages now and that pin slapped me in the face.  Today alone because I've had that quote on my mind, I've counted three conversations with females that flashed their busy badge! (Yes, I did count and yes, I did keep the tally on a post it note.)  And this is how it goes.

I can't be alone in noticing that the women in this world uphold "Busy" like it's an honor.  In my book, "Busy" has become the most ugly four letter world in our motherly vocab; and let's just say, I use that four letter word like a sailor uses profanity!  (Do sailors really use profanity that much; say more than the average mom?) Yes, I have pulled my busy badge and flashed it - I mean FLASHED IT like a surgeon's size D at Mardi Gras. (Yikes, sorry for the illustration!)You get a group of ladies around and you will hear it. Busy. Busy. Busy. Busy. I've got this. I've got that.  I just can't because I've GOT, I've GOT, I've GOT.  It's ok to say, no thank you. But, we can't just leave it at that. We feel the urge to let you know what we've got and then if you don't buy it, just let me open my phone calendar app and show you missy prissy! (You know you've been forced to look at some mother's calendar just where she can show you just how much she has to do!!!) It used to be my children this, my kid this, my son that, my daughter beat your daughter, bumper stickers that reflect honor roll status, blah blah blah, but now, our generation has up'd the level.  We replaced our children with... busy.  Granted, people are busy.  It takes time to raise your family, keep your kids on the honor roll, tend to your household, extracurricular activities, but our generation just couldn't accept the bumper sticker, we decided to up the ante! We lie to ourselves and say it's for the betterment of our families.  But, is it really? Our children are a heritage from our Lord.  Will our families benefit from all the busy?  Don't take me wrong.  The Circus spends lots of time in the family car going from one place to the other.  It's family life.  But... have I stopped giving God the glory for all the wonderful opportunities my family and I get to share in or placed the spotlight on my "busy badge"? I'd say, I have experienced my share of spotlighting. Sigh.  I am aware that whatever we do we can choose to give the glory to God. And in all honesty, I do try. However, polishing up the "busy badge" to outshine the Maker of Heaven isn't fooling Him or anyone else.  Romans 11:36... to Him be the glory forever.  (No "busy badge" mentioned.)  Hmmmm.  So, ladies, we've got to stop the insanity and stop glorifying the busy by flashing the "busy badge".  There is only One that is righteous enough to be given ALL the glory and I doubt He's willing to share it with any "busy badge" of ours.