Protect Us From the Rabid News/Talk Radio Fans

Sometimes I think I'm living in a comedy of errors.

Life really is stranger than fiction.

Next week, I've learned that DH and I will be traveling with several dozen of my radio station's biggest fans. We'll be making a trip of political significance with them, and DH and I get to go along at no cost... as representatives of the radio station.

The average news/talk listener who is gung-ho enough to go along on a trip like this is probably not the sort of person you want to spend several days with. Allow me to elaborate. Now, I'm rather conservative myself; keep that in mind. But these are EXTREME conservatives who listen to people like Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity as though every word these people speak is the gospel truth, to be written down and treasured and passed on to their children. These are the same people who will call within ten seconds of a power outage to ask why we have silenced the only voice of truth and wisdom in their lives. God forbid we should interrupt their broadcasts to tell of a breaking news story -- this too, is seen as a conspiracy to silence these media giants.

Once again, I'm reminded why I use my maiden name on the air and my phone number is not listed.

But in all seriousness... isn't that a little scary? To be so wrapped up in the projected personas of these folks as to put them on a pedestal up there with Jesus? It seems almost dangerous to me. I'm not trying to say these fellas aren't good at what they do - that's why they make the big bucks and I don't. Nor am I trying to counter their message. But to be so completely wrapped up in staying tuned six hours a day to their shows? To be convinced that they, and only they, offer wisdom? Um... hello, the Bible? Um... what about Jesus?

Lord, help me never to confuse mortal men as the only purveyors of truth. You are the way, the truth and the life.

Pray for Our Troops

Lord, guide and protect those who serve our country. Keep them close to you as they work and sweat. Show them your love and kindness. In Jesus' precious name, Amen.

Before I Knew Your Name...

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
before you were born I set you apart;
I appointed you as a prophet to the nations." Jeremiah 1:5 (NIV)

How awesome is that? To know that before we even knew God's name, He knew about us. He knew every wrinkle on our knuckles, every freckle on our noses, every chip in our toenails.

Lord, thank you for making me. Use me to be what you want me to be.

What's the Right Thing?

One thing about the war in Iraq and the war on Terrorism. The lines between right and wrong have become incredibly blurred. It's hard to keep it all straight.

On the one hand, we shouldn't let them get away with the terrorism, things like kidnapping then killing innocent civilians.

On the other hand... if we retaliate, doesn't that put us on the same level as the terrorists?

In the flesh, I'd love to do something to "get back" at them. In the spirit, I know we need wisdom to know exactly what would be the right response.

Lord, guide our leaders and show them what the right thing to do really is.

Old Habits Die Hard

Only old news hounds like me would get this. I got a scoop today. That still makes me feel good all over. Like, "nana nana boo boo, I got a scoop and you didn't!"

I know, it's silly.

But it just reminds me again what an awesome responsibility I have... and how lucky I am to do what I do. It would be so easy to crush someone's reputation if I weren't careful. So I strive to make sure everything I say on the air is the absolute truth. I choose each word very carefully, knowing even if I later make a correction, it's not the same as getting it right the first time.

Now God doesn't make mistakes. He doesn't have to go back and fix something later or soothe things over, because he got it right from the get-go. I am not perfect by any means, but I try to be as perfect as I can to follow that wonderful example, even in my secular work as a lowly radio reporter.

Thank you, God, for helping me to see you even in the everyday things.

God's still working on me!

Days like today really remind me I'm definitely not a finished product yet. I think I'm in a really good place (emotionally, spiritually)... then someone says something that reminds me how spiritually young I still am.

Lord, help me to keep learning and growing!

Lord, save me from the stupid people

I know, that's not the most charitable or Christian thing I've had to say. I guess it's just time to let you in on my little secret -- I have no patience for stupidity.

I'm not talking about people who really can't help it. I'm talking about people who could strive to do more with what they have, but choose to keep their minds and perspectives small. They could learn and grow, but they're comfortable being led through life by the hand, so they keep being led by the hand. They could make good choices, but they don't. Stupid by choice is what I'm talking about here.

I guess I've just had a frustrating day. But now that I've told you about it, I'm going to choose to move on from that feeling.

After the rain

It's pouring in southwestern Virginia at this hour, as I write this. Just another reminder that sometimes we have to wait for the rain before we can see the sun and the flowers... but it's always worth the wait.

My wildflowers are just starting to poke up in my garden, so I can hardly wait to get home and see what the rain is doing for them!

Jehovah Jireh

"My God shall provide for my needs." That's the rough translation... it's enough for me to know that even when I sweat the small stuff, God's got my back.

Things may not always go my way, but my needs are met. He really is Jehovah Jireh... my provider.

Refreshed again!

Isn't it neat how just a little getaway can do your spirits so much good? This weekend was like that for me. We took a camping trip with about six other families from our church to a local state park... so it's not like we were really roughing it, but we still got to escape from the city for a bit.

Our pastor and his family was along as well, so we had an outdoor service Sunday morning that helped put my "refreshment" into perspective. He taught about Nehemiah. Nehemiah was the Israelite who helped to rebuild Jerusalem's walls after the people were released from captivity. After they finished the walls, Ezra the scribe stood up and read from the Law, something many of them hadn't heard in their lifetimes. They realized they had neglected a particular feast God set aside for them; one in which they were to build shelters out of leaves or branches and live outdoors for seven days. The purpose was to help them to remember what it was like when their ancestors wandered the desert and had no permanent shelter.

What should we take away from that?

It's not enough just to do casual reading. Listen carefully, and God's word still speaks. Read to do more than just read; read to learn and understand.

God's rules don't necessarily always make sense to us, but there's always a method to his decrees.

We should all go camping.

Well, OK... I made a logic jump in order to get to that last point. But I think it does help us to keep things in perspective when we boil life down to our basic needs... and what better way to do that than spend a few days in a tent? Besides... it's fun, too.

Going camping!

To take our minds off how much we'd rather make the long drive and go see my mom this weekend, we're taking the baby on a camping trip with some other folks from church. I think it'll be fun. Talk to you next week!

Remembering the man and the music

Ray Charles is gone. What a week. What can I say about a musical inspiration? As a musician... only that his spirit does live on in the music he penned.

I still get chills when I listen to his version of "America the Beautiful." I can't help but laugh when I hear "I Got a Woman." I feel like I'm from Georgia when he sings about it.

I hope someday my writing will have that same kind of affect on someone else.

Homesick

I've been looking forward to next weekend for over a month. My mom has been in the hospital since the last week of March, but she's finally home, and I finally get to see her next weekend.

It's driving me crazy to wait, but I know if I'm patient, I'll get my reward. In the meantime, I still have to do daily things here that I would be doing whether I was waiting to go home or not.

Isn't that how it is for us as Christians waiting for Jesus? We still have to do our earthly duties... we can't just drop everything and wait for him. There were first century Christians who were so convinced Jesus was coming for them right then that they quit their jobs and sold everything... only to become completely destitute and require the help of their brothers and sisters to get back on their feet. But we look forward with anticipation and even a little twinge of homesickness.

Work hard, concentrate on the finish line... and be patient, and you'll get that reward.

Care Bears and the Reagan White House

I'm going to go out on a limb here and make a free admission. I am a child of the 80's. I was just a kid when Ronald and Nancy Reagan were in the White House. But it was those years, more than any other, that have shaped my world view. My formative years. So watching all this reflection about the 40th president on his passing has really just served to make me painfully aware that kids today have no idea what Care Bears are all about.

I know, you were waiting for me to wax poetic about Reaganomics or something. I don't really do politics, I just cover them, so I'm choosing not to get into that.

I will say, though, that it really irritates me to see Care Bears back on store shelves. Don't get me wrong. I loved them. I had Wish Bear, myself... though Funshine Bear was the one I really wanted.

The point is this: love him or hate him, you can't utter the phrase "the end of the Cold War" without thinking of Ronald Reagan. And for me, growing up at the height of Reagan's public challenge to the Soviets and Communism itself, Care Bears had just as much to do with the end of the Cold War as Reagan himself. How could anyone talk about nuclear weapons and warfare in the face of a Care Bear stare? Love and hugs could fix any conflict.

But that's why it bothers me to see Care Bears on the shelf. There's no way my little boy will ever completely understand what it was like to think about the possibility of the U.S. or Russia setting off a nuclear war by accident... or on purpose. He'll never get the significance of Reagan's challenge to the Russian president -- "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!" The world is different now. He will never understand that sentiment of "hands across the U.S.A" or "we are the world." Care Bears are completely over his head. The only reason they're on the shelf is because marketers think people like me... who grew up when I did... are going to wax sentimental about them and buy them for today's kids.

Not me. I'll steer my little fella in the direction of Bob the Builder or Blue's Clues, but I'll keep my Care Bears to myself.

His grace is sufficient

I've been thinking a lot this morning about my personal brush with miracles. Hubby and I weren't able to have babies and it turned out (after a long road of doctors telling me there was nothing the matter with me) I was infertile. We could have done any number of costly fertility treatments, but with stories in the news about women having five, six and seven babies at once... women who shared our religious background... we decided that wasn't for us. We opted not to do anything at least for a little while and maybe to consider adopting or becoming foster parents at a later date.

But then one Sunday our pastor asked if any had a need, to come forward and be anointed. I remember thinking how nutty it sounded at the time, but I found myself getting up. Our small congregation clustered around me and laid hands on me while the pastor put a small amount of oil on my forehead and prayed. I never told them what my need was... so he just prayed that God would hear me.

I found myself asking God not for a baby... but just for my health. By that point, I was tired of taking medication and tired of the mental process that went along with having a "condition."

Nine months later, we had a son. I still don't know whether I'm completely "cured," or if God just took pity on me and blessed us with our boy. Either way, it's a miracle and I'll take it. It doesn't matter to me even now which way it really is. His grace is sufficient for me... and I don't deserve it.

What a blessing to know that just as I love my little man now in his 16-month-old grins and giggles... just as I cuddle him and do my best to meet his needs... God does the same for me. My little boy doesn't have to do anything to get that love from me or his dad. We give it because we loved him first, before he ever knew who we were.

God has all of us in the palm of his mighty hand. He loved us first, too. He doesn't love us because we deserve it... he loves us just because.

More respect for those in service!

Have I ever mentioned how much army healthcare sucks?

I have had the same sinus headache since November. I have been treated for five sinus infections during that time. I still have the headache.

I finally got a little relief earlier this spring when my doctor changed me to a new nasal spray and allergy/decongestant pill.

But I still have the headache.

I would have gone to see a specialist a long time ago, but I can't. My spouse just came off active-duty service... so we have military insurance. I have to get a referral and jump through three hoops and fill out five forms and then maybe they'll pay for me to get a specialist.

It's not just me, either. The spouse whose name I'm leaving out of this has had a sore tooth for MONTHS. He couldn't get it fixed at Fort Nowhere when he was on active duty because there was a waiting list of people who needed teeth pulled before they could be sent to a hot and sandy place. The army told him to see the V-A when he got home. Well, the V-A put him on a waiting list. Since he's not 80 or combat-wounded, the fact that every time he bites down it sends a shockwave through his jaw is evidently not a priority for them.

"Gee, thanks for giving up a year of your life to serve your country, sir. It's too bad we don't care enough about our servicemembers to actually do anything for you."

Too bad I'll never be cool...

Are there no people left in this world who believe in clothing themselves completely?

It has become painfully apparent to me in the last week or so that I am the only female at my job (a radio station) who has never flaunted thighs, belly or cleavage through clothing (or lack thereof) in recent weeks.

Maybe it's just me... but that seems like a sad commentary on the progression of morals. Each generation seems to be willing to go just a little further down the hill, so to speak, than the one before. There's no way my mother would have been allowed to leave her house dressed like some of the people I work with. For that matter, she wouldn't have let me leave the house like that, either.

Call me conservative, call me a prude... I don't care. I may never be cool but at least I'm covered.

Polishing, polishing, polishing

A teacher I had once told me that I must be a true artist because I'm never happy with my own work. I'm constantly tweaking, constantly fixing a word here or there.

I'm convinced now it's a curse. You'd think at some point I'd think, "There! Now it's perfect."

I've never yet hit that point. Either I'm not that good, or I'm suffering from a mental illness.

Then again... if I ever *do* hit the point where I think my work is finished... what's left? Would I still want to write? What would be the point in striving to be better if I thought I was already the best I could be?

Worse... what if God decided his work in me was done? I sure wouldn't want him giving up on me, either. I guess he's always polishing up on me a bit, too.

Here's to never being completely satisfied, then!