by jphilo | Aug 10, 2011 | Current Events
Okay, maybe I’m not a whiner in this picture. But photo search with the key phrase “Jolene whining” didn’t unearth anything. Not because I’m not a whiner. More likely because nobody thinks to grab the camera when I launch into a new litany of what’s wrong with my world.
Sunday morning before church would have been a good morning to snap a few classic, whiny shots. My inner whiner was churning out complaints.
Writing skits for Sunday school.
Getting ready to help with Adventure Club at church Sunday night.
You name it.
I was grousing about it.
Still I went to worship, the chip on my shoulder so big, it was to get through the front door. Somehow, I made it inside, and I made sure everybody knew how hard life has been lately. Then I settled down to listen to a group of women, four of them high school teens, from our church tell about their recent mission trip to the Congo.
They showed pictures of happy children dressed in rags. One teen described the best hospital in the area. “See how the floor is wet?” she said when a picture of the children’s ward appeared on the screen. “There’s no bathroom for the children. That’s urine.”
Two women laughed as they described how hard it was to cook a meal over a fire. Tears came to another woman’s eyes as she contrasted the poverty of the people to their joy in worship and willingness to give.
Tears came to my eyes, and to the eyes of those around me, when another woman listed staggering HIV statistics for the Congo. Thousands diagnosed daily. Children orphaned by the hour. The work being done through Global Fingerprints to rescue the orphans.
What do I have to whine about?
Why am I not grateful for what’s been given me?
Why am I not using it and the energy spent complaining to solve real problems?
God, forgive me.
by jphilo | Feb 21, 2011 | Daily Life
Last night, our small church group was in charge of Adventure Club. In other words, we wrangled a whole passel of kids so all the other groups could meet in blessed peace, without pint-sized distraction.
The evening was a smorgasbord of PBJs, games, Veggie Tales, craft time, and a Bible story. I volunteered for the Bible story (Will the school teacher in me ever die?) about the 10 Commandments. The only problem was how to negotiate the “Thou shalt not commit adultery” sticky wicket with four through nine-year-olds.
Happily, the kids took care of the issue themselves. When they kids arrived for the Bible story, and they tried to recall the ten big ones from memory, their spin on number seven was “a married man shouldn’t have another girlfriend and a married woman shouldn’t have a boyfriend.” So much for that worry and many thanks to Marsha, who front-loaded them with that kid-friendly interpretation during craft time.
Their interpretation reminded me of a story my daughter passed along during our Sunday afternoon phone call. She was giggling about a something our new son had heard from a friend. This friend was watching TV with his daughter, and one of those irritating Viagra commercials aired, not for the first time in their TV watching experience. At the end of this particular commercial, his daughter asked, “Does reptile disfunction mean the man’s lizard isn’t working?”
Oh, to be a kid again.
by jphilo | Sep 14, 2009 | Current Events
You may not believe this, but the rodent war, which formerly was confined to our little gravel road, has gone citywide. The invasion began yesterday, on a Sunday morning, if you can believe it, during church. Our congregation currently meets in our high school auditorium, and about halfway through the pastor’s sermon, a mouse joined him on the stage.
The little critter stuck to the shadows as much as possible and didn’t make a sound, stealthily scampering across the stage behind the pastor. But as we all know, cameo appearances can be show stoppers, and this one certainly was. So sermon waited until the newest member of our congregation negotiated his way past the set for the next high school play, jumped over the worship band’s power cords, and made his stage right exit.
Apparently, the little fellow was as impressed as I was with the pastors exposition of Mark 6:33-44, where Jesus feeds the five thousand, or maybe he was really, really hungry. Because a few minutes later, Mr. Mouse joined the crowd seated in the auditorium. Well, as you can imagine, things went a little crazy for a little while, until two valiant men, Mick and Perry, armed with empty coffee cups, live-trapped the little guy into Perry’s wife’s book bag. Wild applause followed them out the building where they released the interloper. By the time they returned, the pastor had ended his live feed, internet coverage of the action and resumed point five of the sermon.
As far as we know, the mouse did not return. He certainly didn’t come forward for communion, which would have been the logical next appearance. I mean think about it, a school mouse subsists on gum stuck to the bottom of chairs, which has to lead to poor nutrition and miserable digestion. The poor little guy must be continually plugged up. Some fresh bread and grape juice would be just what the veterinarian ordered, but then again, maybe the trip in the book bag shook things loose, so to speak. Hmm…I sure hope Perry’s wife did laundry yesterday afternoon.
Anyway, I’m wondering what the high school fall play is. Based on the set and the sneak preview, I’m thinking Of Mice and Men. But if you have another idea, please leave a comment. And keep your eyes peeled for rodents in all the wrong places and keep your book bags open. This could get ugly, folks.
by jphilo | Feb 15, 2008 | Out and About
Our church has its annual Valentine’s Banquet tomorrow evening, so I don’t have to cook supper. The thought of a night away from the kitchen put me in such an expansive mood, I volunteered to decorate a table for the big event.
I spent part of Monday digging through boxes in the attic, looking for decorations. Tuesday I dug out my red tablecloth and napkins and put them in the wash. Wednesday I went to the store to buy a couple bags of chocolates that went with the table’s red and silver color scheme. Thursday I drove to Mom’s so I could borrow her pretty water glasses and good silverware.
This morning’s inspection of the silverware revealed some significant tarnish so I hauled out the toothpaste and shined the silver plate and my teeth after breakfast. Then I washed the water glasses and eight place setting of my good china. I wrapped and boxed everything good and tight for the trip to the banquet hall tomorrow.
Tomorrow, Hiram will haul the boxes to the banquet site, and I’ll spend a long time decorating the table. Tomorrow afternoon I’ll spend an even longer time decorating me. By the time we get to the banquet at six-thirty, me shivering to death in strappy sandals and a too thin dress and Hiram in his Good Will suit he insists fits real good, I will be exhausted.
It’s been quite a week. Good thing I don’t have to cook supper tomorrow night.
by jphilo | Oct 4, 2007 | Walking Down the Gravel Road
Black walnut season has arrived on our gravel road. Every time a car drives over one of the round green fruits, there’s a peculiar pop, like the popping of a giant paper bag. When I’m in the car the pop is beneath me, and I jump a little, wondering if I’ve lost a tire.
This morning was so beautiful, the sky so blue that I thought up excuses to stay outside. The best excuse was to pick up walnuts. Good exercise, I thought. Get rid of the mess. And since someone in our church is collecting walnuts to sell, with all the proceeds going to our building fund, I could get my good deed for the day done before mid-morning.
The idea of all that multi-tasking had me so pumped I borrowed extra five gallon buckets from the neighbors. I filled six of them before I noticed my back and my legs were getting a little sore. By tomorrow morning, after a good night’s stiffening sleep, I’m thinking they’ll be a lot sore.
Still the extra time outdoors was worth it, and I was slow to hike up the driveway and into the house when I was done. I looked back at the walnut tree near the end of our driveway. Its leaves are gone and its limbs are black against an intense October sky. And there are plenty of walnuts hanging there, waiting for stiff winds and cold nights to shake them to the ground.
I have a feeling I’ll be out here again, I thought as I walked to the house. But will there ever be another morning as beautiful as today? I opened the door and forced myself to walk inside.
