Thursday, July 16, 2009

Painted Into a Corner



“In spite of everything I shall rise again: I will take up my pencil, which I have forsaken in my great discouragement, and I will go on with my drawing” - Vincent van Gogh


Vincent van Gogh was born in 1853 and was the son of a Pastor. He was brought up in a cultured and religious home but was highly emotional and lacked self-confidence. His life was filled with disappointments. Lost loves, poor health, epilepsy, and fits of insanity which landed him in an asylum for a time. In May of 1890, Vincent van Gogh shot himself at the young age of 37. As reputable as Vincent van Gogh is in the art world today, during his lifetime he sold only ONE PAINTING. Only one! He never saw his success or the fruit of his labor. He never experienced the joy of success, fame, or fortune. At Eternity’s Gate (1882) , depicts an old man seated by a fire, his head buried in his hands. Bent over with his fists clenched against a face hidden in utter frustration, the subject appears engulfed in grief. The work would convey an image of total despair if not for its title. Even in the deepest moments of sorrow and pain, van Gogh clung to his faith in God and eternity, which he tried to express in his work. These past few months, I find myself in a corner much like the man in the painting. I've surrendered my life to God and know that the prize is yet to come and yet I find myself in the shadows, fists clenched, and face buried in sadness. Hurt, frustration and rejection have left me completely drained and totally dependent on my faith in God and eternity. As easy as it would be to walk away from the lonely existence of being in this work, I will "take up my pencil... and I will go on with my drawing" because the work ironically, is truly my joy.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Beautiful Disasters



The winner of the World's Ugliest Dog Contest at the Sonoma-Marin Fair in Petaluma, California has been crowned. Believe it or not, this picture is not the winner. This is Miss Ellie. Miss Ellie is a blind 15-year-old Chinese Crested Hairless and she won the pedigree category but did not take first in the overall competition. Kind of pathetic to be this ugly and not win. Miss Ellie drew the short straw in looks, health, and in beauty. I can't help but wonder what made the owner of Miss Ellie choose her. Was she purchased from a crooked breeder or was she a pound puppy? What made this dog lover choose to adopt this blind, disfigured, homely dog? Agathe Christie, once said, "It is a curious thought, but it is only when you see people looking ridiculous that you realize just how much you love them." I think her obersvation must apply to dogs too. I think that must be why God loves me so much too. I must be so homely and pathetic that He just can't help but love me! :0) My eyes are bad, my skin is aging, I can retain water and be dehydrated at the very same time, and I'm getting clumsier every day. Maybe that's why I like that Francesca Battistelli song so much Free to Be Me. The chorus says, "I got a couple dents in my fender. Got a couple rips in my jeans. Try to fit the pieces together but perfection is my enemy. And on my own I'm so clumsy but on Your shoulders I can see I'm free to be me." So here's to all the Miss Ellies in the world - Smile for the camera! Stand up and be beautiful in your own skin. Be who God made you to be because no matter how pathetic you think you are, to Him, you win first prize!

Saturday, June 20, 2009

All My Redneck Friends Are Coming Over Tonight


















Well, it seems my redneck friends can read. After reading my blog and hearing me refer to them as rednecks, they decided to get their sweet revenge this weekend at Lake Brownwood. We had a large group of people from Lifepoint drive up there for the weekend for some camping, swimming, kayaking, boating, tubing, great food, and lots of good company. We had to park "Dimples" (that is our rv's new nickname - given because of the large amount of hail damage) away from the group because the park was so crowded this weekend. We set up camp and Phil even managed to pick me up some little lights to hang off our awning that look like little tiny campers. First things first, we decided to put new bike tubes in the tires. We managed to get one finished but the second bike was giving us fits. By the time we were ready to call it a night, the second bike was still upsidedown in the grass with one tire leaning against a chair. It was an eventful night. The wind picked up and started whipping our awning around so at about 1:30 am we decided to go outside and roll the awning in. It was apparent immediately that we had visitors at some point after we had gone to bed. When the sun came up, we stepped out of our camper to find most of our redneck friends sitting in our lawn, drinking coffee, and laughing at us with the most flattering bubba teeth. They had hung a sign at our camp that read "Don't rubberneck at 'da rednecks - Pastor Phil". There was an outhouse in front of the camper with lights on it made from shotgun shells. A goat trough bathtub decked with towel, soap and back scrubbers was close to the outhouse. There was a clothes line with one of the biggest bras I've seen in awhile and some red longjohns hung out to dry. They had made a redneck weather stick and redneck wind chimes and welcome sign to add to the backwoods decor. The crowning jewel was... you guessed it... the upsidedown bicycle that we had left out the night before. It was untouched and fit perfectly. As we took it all in we noticed at least two different park rangers passing our campsite repeatedly. I was wondering if they were going to say something about all the people on the lawn or maybe the toilet seat dangling from the tree when one of my favorite redneck friends says, "Ya know they're just waitin' to see what woman's gonna come out of that trailer that fits that bra!"






Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Always In The Stands


Saturday evening our firstborn and only daughter graduated from highschool. It was a day of celebration and we wondered if we would make it through the entire day without getting emotional. Bailey completed her senior year in the top 10% of her class of 746 seniors. She graduated with honors and we could not be more proud of her. She hasn't been emotional at all about completing this last year of school. I haven't seen any tears. She's was just so ready to be finished, as were most of her classmates. The graduation ceremony took place at the football stadium and so needless to say, it was a casual event. Friends and family whooping and hollering at the graduates, balloons floating up aimlessly into the stadium lights, parents laughing and snapping pictures of their babies. It was more of an evening of celebration and the thought of the grand step out of a simpler part of their lives into a much bigger, more complicated part didn't seem to be on the mind of anyone. After reading the names of all 746 students and each one crossed the platform to receive their diplomas, the evening finally came to an end with the caps being tossed into the night sky. HOORAY! As the crowds began to exit the stadium and pour down onto the football field to congratulate the graduates, I stood up on my seat so Bailey could see me and we could exit the stadium together. My camera ready to go, I began snapping pictures of the crowd. It was during the mayhem that I saw my sweet, young Bailey fighting her way against the crowd. People moving one way, Bailey moving the opposite direction. She kept looking up into the stands, searching for our faces. All at once, the emotion of that day hit me like a wall of water that began to flow down my cheeks. My baby was being pulled away and she was fighting so hard to get back to me. Her future passed before my eyes as I realized how much she will always miss her childhood and the simpler times of highschool. She will have her memories and they will always penetrate her mind as through the years her friends will move away, get married, have children, and some will pass into eternity long before their time. This part of her life was officially over and she was trying desperately to get back to me. I still weep thinking about that moment. I pray that Bailey will always look to me and her daddy with those same bright eyes that I saw that night. Time will eventually pull her into her own life but no matter where she goes, her momma and daddy will always be standing there in the stands, cheering her on, snapping pictures, and cheering for her success. We love you, Bailey!

Sunday, May 17, 2009

The Holding Tank


Our first RV camping experience was a good one. The weather was beautiful at the San Angelo State Park and it was good to be with such sweet, experienced camping friends who could answer all my "How do you..." questions. I learned how to back an RV, how to build a fire so big that you have to get a garden hose to put it out so everyone can go to sleep, how to go geocaching (www.geocaching.com), how to hook up to the water and electricity at a campground, how to properly hang a hammock so your butt doesn't drag the ground, and I learned how to empty the holding tanks. RVing is great because you can take your little home away from home with you wherever you go but when you potty in a mobile house, the potty gets stored in a tank which eventually fills up. At that point, you have to empty it. This is a disgusting process and not only requires a strong stomach for odors but a tough pair of rubber gloves. It is easier in the long run if you follow this simple scripture. Deuteronomy 23:12 (NLT) "You must have a designated area outside the camp where you can go to relieve yourself." After this weekend, I wonder sometimes if my life is alot like that holding tank. I tend to hold on to all the ... uh...umm... stuff in my life until it starts to stink. Wow, I'm waxing so eloquent here. I think I need more camping trips to clear my head and dump all the stress that gets bottled up inside. It's time for me to dump all the stuff that clouds my perspective and take a few more walks, ride a few more bikes, search for more treasure, chase a few more jackrabbits, stay outside when the rain comes instead of running for shelter, enjoy a few more naps, and most importantly, roast more marshmallows!

Thursday, May 7, 2009

RVing for Dummies

I've always loved camping, ever since I was a little girl, but my husband prefers a Holiday Inn over a travel trailer. I had hoped to slowly cross him over into the camping cult but the last two attempts have been somewhat disastrous. Several years ago we tried a family campout in a tent. My relatives all had nice, big RVs but I knew I could make my family have just as much fun in a tent. After all, home is where you hang yourself, am I right? To keep things exciting, I tried to convince my family that a hike in the woods would be more fun than they could handle. Phil was not biting my bait and said that it was tick season and he didn't want to take any chances. He stayed in my grandparent's RV while the kids and I went hiking. We came back tick free but Phil, on the other hand, ended up with three ticks. How does that happen? After picking and burning a little flesh getting the ticks off of him, we called it a night and headed off to our little tent. Late that night, we were awakened to the sound of two bobcats fighting at our picnic table just outside our sturdy, zippered, canvas door. Needless to say, we ended up sleeping on the fold down kitchen table in grandma's RV the rest of that weekend. The last camping trip was a couple years ago. We decided to rent a cabin at the state park. What could possibly go wrong in a log cabin, right? Well... our cabin was attacked during the night by an army of small, red, fire ants. Now, if you've never been bitten by a fire ant, you are fortunate. If you have, you'll understand the pain my son experienced the next morning as we discovered the entire army had marched into his sleeping bag and began storing up his flesh for the winter. That seemed to be the end of any hopes I had at becoming a camping family until recently. Phil toured a few new RVs at an RV dealership and got kind of excited about the idea of a home away from home. We decided to not go with a new RV since our camping history has not been very good but made the decision to find a great deal on an older used RV and give it a go. We bought a hand me down RV from a church friend and got it home just last night. Tomorrow I am taking a vacation day from work to clean up our little house on wheels and get it ready for our first RV camping trip next weekend. We can only hope that our experiences will be many and our memories will be fond in our camper, but history often repeats itself and that concerns me just a tad. Fortunately we have several camping cult friends at church who will take us under their wings, charge up our batteries, and flush out our holding tanks next weekend to show us how it's done. Hang on Webber family, this is going to be a bumpy ride! :0)

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Could It Get Any Worse?


It's official. It has been 1 month since my little tumble down that hill in Cloudcroft and I STILL have a hole in my leg. I'm frankly getting really tired of the wound AND blogging about it. Unfortunately, that is the first thing that people ask when they see me. "How's the leg?" So I feel it necessary to update everyone with these disgusting pictures. The Doctor says it's a beautiful wound, free of infection, and healing nicely. This picture tells a story though that is far more interesting than just the hole in my leg. When you click on the picture it gets HUGE on your computer screen. At that view, you will notice in the upper left corner how long my leg hairs are getting underneath the bandage that protects my wound. Now, anyone who knows me knows that my HEAD hair does not grow, and yet in one month I have managed to grow a 1/2 inch of hair on my leg. Does anyone see my frustration with this problem? This is SOOOO messed up! I should only have to deal with one defect at a time. Maybe I should grab a razor and take it to wound care with me. "Excuse me Doctor, do you mind if I shave while you have my leg undressed?" As always, when I feel frustrated, I go to scripture, take it totally out of context, and comfort myself. This is the verse that I found. Isaiah 7:20 (New International Version) "In that day the Lord will use a razor... to shave your head and the hair of your legs, and to take off your beards also." Beards? That must be yet to come. I know God takes pleasure in us but He must be rolling on the floor laughing at me!