Sirious Appreciation

"Anxiety weighs down the heart, but a kind word cheers it up."

A few months ago I took the plunge and got an iPhone 4S. In terms of functional technology, it's absolutely one of the best purchases I've ever made.

Plus there's the cool factor. I love my phone; it works, does what it's supposed to do with efficiency.

You may know about Siri, the iPhone's personal assistant. It's a voice-activated command system that I find quite convenient.  

"Siri, look up a number for Hobby Lobby." 

Wait five seconds and a pleasant voice replies, "Here is the closest Hobby Lobby." On the screen appears a map, a phone number and an option to call.

Yesterday I used Siri several times (trying to help my eldest son finish a science fair project. Don't ask.) Every question received a prompt answer, with all the information I need.

I pressed the button and said, "Thank you Siri. Great job."

And she replied, "You're welcome. It's nice to be appreciated."

And I thought: I AM TALKING TO A MACHINE. LIKE A PERSON. AND IT'S TALKING BACK. I AM LIVING IN A BIZARRE UNIVERSE.

I so believe in the power of gratitude, spoken aloud. It's safe to assume that words of appreciation offer grace and something of value to the recipient; at least, most of the time, you tell somebody something good in order to bolster them. It's one of those cases when it truly is better to give than to receive.

Siri responded with appreciation, but it is a phone. She's not real.

But offering those words did something in me; they helped keep my focus on the positive, the blessings, the good stuff.

And that makes for a better day, in the grand scheme of things.

"...the tongue of the wise brings healing." 

 

EXCITING PICAKEN UPDATE!

In an exciting and strangely surprising twist of events, we discovered this evening that approximately 1/2 of the Picaken has been eaten.

Casual conversation revealed that someone had Picaken for breakfast and apparently enjoyed it.

We now return to our regularly scheduled blogging.

Picaken Update

I must sadly report to you, my faithful readers, that the Picaken was not met with the inspirational, passionate reception I envisioned.

My children - all five of them - turned up their noses at the Picaken, regardless of its intricate, beautiful structural complexity.

My husband, although he ate two fairly sizable pieces, neither cheered nor smothered me with kisses of gratitude. Instead, his reaction was more along the lines of (and I quote):

"I think maybe I prefer my pie and cake to stay separated."

Lord, have mercy. A huge mess of homemade buttercream icing, along with a homemade cherry pie and that delicious devil's food cake....and the Picaken sits, lonely and abandoned, with a scant four pieces removed.
(He had two. I had one last night and one today.)


And then, when my husband awoke today, he said, "No more carbs or sugars for me. New diet."

I'm not sure I'm up to interpreting what all of this means, but I guess that was my first - and last - Picaken.


Anybody wanna come over and help me finish it?

Picaken

So I follow this pretty cool blog called Jamie the Very Worst Missionary. Funny, irreverent, clever and often moving.

And inspiring.

When she posted about a new creation called Picaken, I was intrigued. See, I'm married to a man who loves pie. Who posts pictures of pie on the fridge in the hopes that I'll make pie.

Here's the pie that I baked to put into the Picaken. When he walked through the kitchen, he said, "Are you really going to do this?" I said yes. He looked at the pie and said, somewhat wistfully, "That's a perfectly good pie....."

Yes, it is. And it's headed for the Picaken! 

He also loves cake. In fact, he loves sweets, period. I must admit to a twinge of guilt at the havoc I am wreaking on his blood sugar by this planned sugary extravaganza. But it's just a twinge...it's not like we're going to do this on a regular basis.

(Unless it's really good.)

So I'm combining two of his favorite things. I'm just doing what my pastor encouraged us today: making HIS needs more important than my own! I'm expressing my love! I'm planting seeds!

And there's this: I like to do something creative every week. I think this counts as creative, for sure. And loving!

Inspired by the original Picaken post, I looked around a bit more and found this. And I'm telling you right now, there's no way my Picaken is going to be that magnificent.

But I'm going for it.

Here are a few photos of the beginning stages of this project. I will certainly update you later.

We're makin' Picaken!

The ladies in Texas taught me this: ONLY Duncan Hines for cake mix!

There's a pie in there...

In the oven. Updates later!

A Year Has Passed

I started blogging in August of 2007. In a few months, grace every day will celebrate its fifth birthday.

This blog has had over 72,000 page views. Sounds like a lot, but half of them might be me, just visiting my old self.

It's become my journal, this blog. A place of record, a holder of memories. Because life is just going too fast, too much, too soon. I'm not ready for half of it, it seems; and then it's gone and I realize that I never even had it. This blog helps me remember it.

I think maybe this has been the hardest season since I moved to Powhatan, these last 12 months. Sunday marked a year since my friend Bob's passing. I still miss him, and the waves of longing for him hit - though less frequently - just as powerfully as they did in the days and weeks immediately following his death.

I miss Bob.

And then we changed so many things - started a new business, left our home of five years to move into a new place, which we promptly began to renovate, which means we never really nested. The work on the house is taking longer than I hoped - which is always the case, isn't it?

And so we are in a season of upheaval, with a child graduating high school, another hoping to begin art school in a month (and move away from home), growth and transition in my job that are both rapid, terrifying and exhilarating. There was a serious bout with skin cancer. There was knee surgery.

And then there's the slow changes time brings...I am approaching the end of my forties. My feet are dragging; I was digging in my heels, but I couldn't gain traction. I'm at the mercy of the endless motion of time, being drug through the days and weeks and months, captured by the relentless carousel of time. I am struck dumb, paralyzed, unable to comprehend these changes. I have gained weight. I am not comfortable in this body, with these lines on my face, these changes in my skin and my joints.

I went back to read where I was at this time last year. I hardly recognize that woman. I was sad and in mourning and overwhelmed but I was so centered. And it wasn't just something I conjured up to make a blog post: it was valid and it was real and it was me. I was present, and focused and functioning and thoughtful and articulate.

What happened?


It hardly seems possible that an entire year of my life could have been sucked into grief, and life stage changes, and simply growing older. It's like a dark drape settled over my everything for the past eleven months. No sunshine, not enough time, too much angst, not enough energy....

But maybe it IS possible; maybe I just have never been there before. Of course I haven't...I've never been almost-49, with two daughters out of high school and one almost done, with a 16-year old son and 12-year old giant boy and a husband of two years and a cat and a hole in my heart where Bob Pino used to live and a music store and a new kitchen (almost) and and and and....

I am so sick of listing my circumstances.

I want to remember who I am.

And discover who I am becoming.

And it is not easy.

So An Attorney, A Dentist And A Senior Pastor Walk Into A Creative Retreat...

Service planning at PCC is a combination of research, prayer, brainstorming, creative exploration, attention to detail, administrative follow-up and unique relationships. One day a week, we spend about three hours reviewing upcoming service ideas and plans; but we never have enough time, it seems.

So occasionally we try to build in an extended time of planning. I have come to see these moments as opportunities to work in two directions:  internally, to nurture and tend to our artistic souls, and externally, focusing on what we are charged with in terms of service programming for our church community.

That's what we did today. At a mountain retreat house (thanks to the generosity of a PCC family), we spent a day immersed in creative stuff. I planned this retreat, and I was just a little bit apprehensive. When you pull together a senior pastor, an attorney, a dentist and various other folks who serve in various capacities in our weekly services, it's a little daunting to consider how they are going to react to assignments requiring markers, scissors, stickers and glue sticks.

They did pretty well. There was that one moment when someone fell asleep as we prayed and began to snore...loudly...

But overall, they did well. It was a fascinating day, with a chance to look into the minds of a very divergent group of people who were willing to explore the personal, artistic interpretation of a specific piece of scripture. There was one rebel who refused to function within the boundaries of the assignment...but that's okay. He took an artistic risk and came up with something of his own. And it was good. (You can read his take on the day here.)

I'll post a bit more about this in coming days, but for how, here's a look at the tangible creative product (you'll see the other results in upcoming services at PCC!) The assignment was to take these words and react to them with some sort of visual creation; to create an inspiration board.

I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord's holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever. Amen. - Ephesians 3.16-21

For me, it was an incredibly moving experience. One by one, each person held up their board and offered an explanation of their thought process. "This is how I see this; this is how I feel these words."

I believe this is part of the way God works in us, how we continue to "work out our salvation with fear and trembling".

It's a beautiful thing.

Happiness Is A Warm Guitar

It makes me happy to see people in my family happy. At the moment, Sydni is wandering around in the kitchen singing, "We found love in a hopeless place..." Occasionally, Sarah will chime in a harmony part. It's beautiful.

They are happy when they are singing.

David holds a carton of ice cream in his hand, and for the duration of time it takes him to finish, he is a happy boy.

Daniel drums. Constantly. There are always sounds of drumming in the house. That makes him happy.

I talked to Shannon on Skype today, and she was beaming in her beautiful green dress. She loves JMU. She is happy.

But true happiness, the kind that is hard-won and not soon forgotten?

It looks like this.

Granted, his face doesn't look happy, but the elements of happiness required for any guitar player are right there.

And he is very happy.

Church, this Sunday. I'm serious. The song requires a Marshall...