by jphilo | Oct 22, 2012 | Out and About
For more than a week, I’ve been on the road. Whether the travel’s been for personal or professional reasons, the time behind the wheel left plenty of time for this Monday’s musings.
- Being a grandma is the best job ever.
- Fall is a lovely time for traveling in the Midwest.
- Panera has the healthiest fast food (and tastiest coffee) of any franchise chain.
- My new mission in life is to explain to food service workers that “dairy-free” means more than no visible cheese, yogurt, or ice cream on whatever you order.
- Box elder bugs are taking over the world.
- Dorothy knew what she was talking about when she clicked those ruby slippers together and said there’s no place like home–even when you get home and find box elder bugs are waiting to greet you–lined up three deep on the threshold.
What are your latest travel musings? Leave a comment.
by jphilo | Sep 17, 2012 | Out and About
Sorry this post is late going up, but I’m still recovering from a most enjoyable weekend with the women above (sorry this photo’s a little blurry) and the women below.
We spent the weekend at Hidden Acres Camp bonding, worshiping, eating without having to fix the meal or clean up afterwards, relaxing, and learning about how to practice spiritual disciplines during our current seasons of life. These women were so welcoming and so attentive. They were also so not in need of being asked to keep their hands and feet to themselves while listening to the speakers.
Way easier than fourth graders, that’s for sure!
The most heartening aspect of the conference – which had many outstanding features including gifted and committed worship leaders, the best candy bar ever, excellent breakout workshops, and a dedicated planning team – was how many young women attended. The weekend is proof of a new generation of committed Christians who are busy producing the next generation of believers.
Seriously, about every third woman below 35 was either pregnant or caring for a baby.
Thanks so much for allowing me to speak at your conference. Special thanks to Jessy who invited me way back last October, to Rachel who put together the yummiest gift basket ever, to the worship team for all your practice and equipment hauling, and to Sandy for making sure I didn’t go longer than 45 minutes. Most of all, thanks to all of you for making time in your busy lives to attend the conference and for making me feel so welcome.
You were a gift from God all weekend long!
by jphilo | Jun 18, 2012 | Out and About
Today’s post was supposed to be a summary of the Cedar Falls Writers’ Conference – the conference I arrived at a day late, once Hiram was out of the hospital and safely ensconced at home – last week.
I planned to talk about the importance-of-editing-and-proofreading discussion encouraged partly by the How to Be Your Editor’s BFF workshop I presented Thursday and partly by an advertisement one of the conference attendees found. The ad touted a pizza joint by describing one of their menu offerings as “topped with barbequed white children.” (Either the ad meant to say “chicken” instead of “children” or some Iowa pizza joint is giving Fanny Flagg’s Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe some serious competition in the “it’s all in the barbeque” category.)
But my plan to pass along that humorous anecdote, and many others, was thwarted by two unforeseen events.
- Camp Dorothy went into action Saturday afternoon through Sunday evening due to an unexpected weekend trip by my brother and his family.
- A pregnant friend (with 3 other children and a husband on a business trip until Wednesday) was diagnosed with mild pre-eclampsia and is on modified bedrest.
Therefore, my weekend was busy running Camp Dorothy, with no Wheel of Fortune due to the U.S. Open Golf Tournament, which put someone’s nose out of joint. Today I’m taking my friend’s three kids to the pool (the ultimate sacrifice on a hot, sunny day) and delivering supper to them.
So there’s just not time to tell you about the aspiring writers at the conference.
Or about several people who’ve been published since the last conference.
Or about how pleasant it is to teach people who know how to share,
who don’t need reminders to keep their hands and feet to themselves,
and who always say please and thank you.
There’s no time because Camp Dorothy put me a little behind on the weekend’s work. And today, instead of dedicating the entire day to writing, I’m busy digging out my swim suit, beach towel, and sunglasses. And the sunscreen. My yes, the sunscreen for me and the three little ones, too. Lots of sunscreen. Cause there’s no way I’ll deliver three barbequed white children to my friend’s house for supper.
That just wouldn’t be write right.
by jphilo | Jun 15, 2012 | Out and About
This week’s been an out-of-the-frying-pan-into-the-fire experience. Once Hiram was home, on his feet, and fairly independent, I hit the road for the Cedar Falls Christian Writers’ Conference. I arrived one day late, but in time to teach three workshops, reconnect with old friends, and make new ones.
But the frying pan/fire scenario doesn’t leave much time for new blog posts, so today’s is a recycled one written the first year I went to the conference, which is held at the same church camp I attended as a child. Enjoy!
“‘He who believes in Me’, as the Scripture said,
‘From his innermost being shall flow rivers of living water.’”
John 7: 38
I squirmed like a ten-year-old as I drove under the sign, “Riverview Bible Conference Center.” The name was different, but I felt at home in the place I hadn’t seen in 35 years – my childhood church camp.
I arrived the night before my writers’ conference, so as soon as my bags were stowed, I walked the grounds. I located the tabernacle, a barn of a place where an old maid chapel director taught 200 wriggling kids every verse of How Great Thou Art. Every day, when she freed us from our prison of song, we ran to the pool where we recited the day’s new verse as the price of our admission.
The pool was as I remembered it, and I remembered how up-town that cement pool seemed in the 1960s. Moving on, I found the cabins I’d stayed in different years. I recognized the old craft center, Missionary Hall, which would serve as our conference headquarters tomorrow. My biggest disappointment was not locating the campfire pit and the cross that stood by it.
One thing puzzled me as I tramped around. Why had the camp been named Riverview? In all my church camp years, I’d never seen a river and couldn’t find one now. Darkness fell and the bugs had sucked me dry, so I went back to my cabin still wondering.
The next morning, I searched for the campfire before the conference began. A road I’d missed the night before dead ended in a grassy bank, but I climbed up a few steps. There it was – the campfire, hemmed by benches on three sides and the cross on the fourth. Once, a minister explained the greatness of God’s love to us as we sat on those benches. “He loved you so much He died for you,” the pastor said, pointing to the cross. “He died so you might live.” Sitting there I had accepted Christ, blinded by His love, unable to imagine life beyond what He’d already given.
Now I approached that cross, neon pink in the rising sun. Light peeked between tree trunks and through a chain-link fence that ran along a little ridge a few yards behind it. Curious, I walked beyond the cross, looked over the fence, and gasped. A river flowed far below me, surrounded by trees and cabins, docks and boats, teeming with life.
“You’ve grown up, Jolene.” A still, small voice whispered in my heart. “You’ve matured enough to see what was always there.”
Thirty years ago, I was too young to comprehend God’s simple truth. But this day I know His promise is true because I have experienced it for three decades: that beyond the cross flows a river of life!
by jphilo | May 10, 2012 | Out and About, Three Thoughts for Thursday
We arrived home safely yesterday evening from a road trip to see our Ohio kids. The four days with them flew by. But since our return, the boring business of unpacking, sorting, laundry, plant-watering, grocery shopping, and figuring out what I was working on before we left continues with no end in sight. All these menial tasks left plenty of time to think up this Thursday’s three road tripping thoughts:
- Surely some mechanical person could invent a washer/dryer unit to attach to car engines. Travelers could start a load during every potty and gas break on the trip home, fold clothes in the back seat, and check laundry off their to do list when they pull into the driveway. YES!
- There’s nothing like entering the house after a long trip and realizing the cleaning lady left shortly before you came home.
- No matter how hard I try, I’m not a good packer. How could I know there wouldn’t be time to read the two books tucked in the suitcase, but that the Road Kill Cookbook and Granny Clampett would have come in handy after Hiram nailed a possum strolling across the highway?
Have you been traveling lately? What thoughts do you have about your adventure? Leave a comment.
by jphilo | May 7, 2012 | Family, Out and About
Life takes unusual turns now and then. We’re reminded of this daily during this visit our daughter and new son in Ohio. Every day, when we drive from the relatives we’re staying with (they have a big house) to our daughter and new son’s digs (a tiny apartment), we drive by an impressive, three story, turn-turn-of-the-century brick building. A prominent “for lease” sign graces the large, grassy front yard, and another proclaiming “office space to let” covers the space where I suspect the original name of the building is engraved in stone.
After driving by a few times, I asked Hiram, “Do you think that’s the old orphanage where your grandma took your dad and his brother Cassius to live?”
Neither of us were sure, so we asked Hiram’s step-mom when we saw her. “Yes, she said. “That big three-story building on Wooster St. That’s where those boys lived when their mother didn’t have the means to care for them.
This morning, when we drove by the former orphanage, the words from “It’s a Hard Knock Life” came to mind…
It’s the hard-knock life for us
It’s the hard-knock life for us
No one cares for you a smidge
When your in an orphanage
It’s the hard-knock life
It’s the hard-knock life
It’s the hard-knock life!
…and thought the lyrics aren’t nearly as carefree and humorous when you know someone who was an orphan. Like Hiram’s father. Who had a hard time his entire life demonstrating love to others. Partly because he was a quiet, non-demonstrative man. But also, perhaps, because he was sent to an orphanage when he was ten. And he felt like no one cared for him a smidge.
I think of my father-in-law, and I think of our children as we drive the few short blocks between the orphanage he entered at age 10 and the grad school apartment where my daughter and new son live. My heart aches to think of that lonely man who felt unloved. But it delights in our children who know we love them dearly.
Why this strange turn of events?
Perhaps to remind us of the blessings God has rained upon our family.
Perhaps to create compassion for a man who never knew them.
Perhaps to make me realize “widows and orphans” aren’t theory but fact.
Perhaps to make me cry.
