RANKSgiving Was A Success!

Today we spent a good part of the day at the church. A few of our LIFEgroups decided to put together a huge Thanksgiving meal and invite the military personnel from Goodfellow AFB here in San Angelo. We called it RANKSgiving. Clever, huh! We've been planning this for a month and about 75 people from the LIFEgroups bought and prepared enough food for 150 - 200 people. We had donations from Sams and Walmart, and even Logans donated 200 of their delicious rolls. I'm telling you, this was a feast! We ate at noon and then some went to the Family Center for a game of volleyball while others headed to the big tv in the Homebuilder's classroom for a little football. We didn't have as many military show up as we would have liked but the day was definitely a success. We kept saying to each other how nice it was to be with "family" from the church. Traditional family gatherings are great but if your family isn't traditional, it sometimes makes the holidays difficult. My extended family is far away and gathering with them today would have been nice but since that wasn't possible, I'm so blessed to have gathered with the next best thing, my church family.

Twas the Day Before the Night Before Thanksgiving

Twas the day before the night before Thanksgiving
When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even the hermit crabs.
The kids' socks were strewn all over the floor,
In hopes that momma would pick them up like before!
The children were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of Rock Band and Guitar Hero danced in their heads.
School was out for Thanksgiving break
And the kids settled in for a long lazy week of doing diddly-squat!
When from the boys' bedroom there arose such a clatter
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.
Through the messy house I flew like a flash
Pushed open their door and tripped on the stash
Of leftover Halloween candy wrappers all over the floor
And coke tabs, and pencils, and dirty clothes galore.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
Someone had dumped a can of root beer.
My kids were all zombies and watching tv
They could tell from my face I was not very pleased.
They jumped from the floor and each other they blamed
I rambled and shouted and called them by name,
Now, Bailey, now, Wesley, now, Kyle let's go!
Get these rooms cleaned up before I explode!
So out of my mind and their rooms I flew
With arms full of laundry, and dirty dishes too.
Then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
A basketball bouncing and the boys giggling aloof
As I drew up my hand to slap them around
Off the top of the car Wesley came with a bound
"We were just playing" he uttered with regret
He and Kyle were covered with sweat.
A ball on the roof and skateboard in the grass
I had half a mind to whoop his little back side!
But their eyes how they twinkled and their dimples so merry
Their cheeks like roses, their noses like cherries.
A blink of their eyes and a twitch of their heads,
I knew there was something bigger to dread.
I grabbed up my purse and headed to work
Packed my lunch and looked back with a jerk,
Thanksgiving break had only just begun
My kids were at home, I wanted to run.
I decided instead to give thanks for the mess,
The popcorn, the socks, the books, and the stress.
My kids were as precious as precious could be,
But the clutter was really all I could see.
Bailey, Wes, and Kyle are happy in spite of the rules
Enjoy Thanksgiving this week, kids, 'cause next week... SCHOOL!

- by Wendi Webber

You Might Be A Pastor's Wife If...

10 - You've attended a pastor's fellowship meeting and listened to a hillbilly group sing I'll fly Away with an instrumental solo on the spoons,
9 - You've spent a Saturday morning in your swimsuit cleaning dead crickets out of the bottom of the baptistry,
8 - You used duct tape to temporarily hold the pastor's broken fly closed during a Sunday morning worship service,
7 - You borrowed a slip from a friend because you discovered your skirt was transparent when the spotlights came on,
6 - You've thrown up in a trash can minutes before singing the Sunday morning special,
5 - You got your commercial driver's license so you wouldn't have to recruit a bus driver for ladies' road trips,
4 - Your family vacation is traveling to another city so you can visit another church and see what they do differently,
3 - You know all the lyrics to What's Wrong With The Old Black Book,
2 - One-fourth of your closet is reserved for clothes to wear for old fashioned day, friend day, western day, Halleluiah Hooplah (Halloween), AWANA, drama ministry, weddings, funerals, and fellowship meetings,
1 - You're sleeping with the Pastor!

I'm not making these up. This is my life. Maybe the stereotype of the Pastor's wife is a bit askew. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, but there are reasons why I am the way I am. This isn't the most glamorous position, you know. Victoria Osteen is NOT being truthful when she paints a picture of her "best life" with Joel. No one is THAT happy ALL the time. I would just once like to see Victoria's hair in a pony tail, no make up, and on the nursery schedule! With all of it's woes, being married to Phil has been the most frustrating and rewarding experience of my life. We laugh together and we cry together. We take time for our kids and for each other. We don't claim to have a perfect marriage and work hard at making it better. We get tired of working together but wouldn't want to go to work alone. This Thanksgiving week, I am thankful to wear the badge of Pastor's Wife. It's a badge of honor that I wear, along with all my hats, and wouldn't have it any other way.

My Brother, Ryan

This is my one and only sibling, Ryan. He is two years younger than me. We were never really close growing up. We fought all the time. Not just bickering either, it was more like chasing each other around the house with knives yelling, "I hate you, I hate you" fighting. As we got older, our relationship became even more distant because of the miles between us. He and his wife moved to Phoenix and Phil and I moved to Texas. There was nothing really wrong, we just didn't know each other. A couple of years ago, I found myself experiencing a sense of loss over those distant years. An absence of communication between my brother and I had led to an absence of any relationship at all. We talked on the phone about our childhood and discovered that we both had different memories all together of growing up. It's like we had lived separate lives and might as well have lived on opposite sides of the planet. That first phone call led to more phone calls. We didn't even need anything important to talk about. We were "catching up" on all the years we had missed out on. After awhile, between phone calls, we would send a text, and now, between texts, I get an occasional picture from him. Nevermind the fact that he took this picture with his cell phone while driving down the freeway. I cannot begin to tell you how much I love my brother. Ryan is an encouragement to me every time I speak to him. Even when he has nothing to say, he knows how to make me smile. He is a loving and supportive husband, a father of two amazing kids, and he and his wife have an additional 4 foster children living in their home. He is a leader in his church, a hard worker, and one of the most sensitive people I know. I am so thankful for Ryan and what he means to me and my family. God knew how much I needed Ryan long before I knew or appreciated him. I hope my kids are as close to each other someday as I am with my brother.

Jesus You Are Worthy

I just finished reading our Associate Pastor Mark Riggins' blog. He mentioned a song we sang in our contemporary service thismorning called Jesus You Are Worthy. The song is written by Brenton Brown and the lyrics are as follows: Jesus, You are mercy, Jesus you are justice, Jesus you are worthy, That is what you are. You died alone to save me, You rose so you could raise me, You did this all to make me a chosen child of God. Worthy is the Lamb that once was slain, to receive all glory power and praise. For with Your blood you purchased us for God. Jesus, You are worthy, that is what You are. Perfect sacrifice, crushed by God for us, bearing in your hurt all that I deserve. Misjudged for my misdeeds You suffered silently, the only guiltless man in all of history. Mark mentions how simple yet profound the lyrics are and he is so right. The most beautiful worship times for me are the simple times. The times that I set aside anything and everything that consumes my thoughts, and turn my entire focus on what God is doing at that very moment. Regularly I find myself focused on God in some unusual places. The shower is a great place to humbly go to God. I do most of my talking with Him in the shower. It sounds silly but that is a humbling time for me and frankly, I prefer not to share that time with anyone but God. Another great place to talk to God is when I'm alone in the car. Thismorning was one of those times. It was a crazy week of stress coming from all directions and I jumped in the car to head to church and realized that I was about to stand before a congregation of people who wanted to focus on God and I was absorbed with me and all my concerns. I turned off the radio and began to ask God to empty my heart and mind of all the stress of the week and fill me with a calm, quiet spirit of worship. In those few moments in the car, I didn't need a beautiful church building and fancy new lighting (although those are really, super cool and I'm thrilled we've got them at Lifepoint). I didn't need an eloquent speaker with deep thoughts of wisdom (got that at church too). My preparation for worship was simply setting ME aside and focusing on GOD. I'm glad we sang that song thismorning. It's a song that is simply written to God. Straight up! Totally verticle. That's what worship is all about. Getting ME out of the way. That is so hard to do sometimes. I want to be focused on who God is; mercy, justice, perfect, guiltless, but it's so easy to turn my thoughts back to me and my needs. God, I need your help because... God, I've got this problem... God, give me the strength to... me, me, me. As I sit here at my computer this evening, I just want to say God, thank you for your mercy and justice. Thank you for your perfect sacrifice in my behalf. You truly are worthy!

Wise Counsel

Yesterday we took a step into the unknown. We listed our house on the market and made an offer on a house with more bedrooms and square footage so that we could move Phil's parents in with us and care for them as they get older. We didn't really know if this was the best move but felt no harm in letting God take over and just "see what happens." Well, God is very good to us and by thismorning, we have total peace that moving is NOT what we need to do at this time. The real estate sign has been in the yard for approximately 15 hours and is down again. I wasn't really expecting that answer. I was fully ready to have a buyer within days and doors opening everywhere. I wasn't expecting a broken nose from the door slamming shut very quickly in my face. That's the beauty of letting God take over in situations like that, it's really hard to push a door open when He's pushing from the other side. I may be strong but that's a losing battle. It is such a sweet feeling of peace to know He cares about these decisions and protects us from situations that He doesn't want us in. Proverbs 12:15 says "The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but he who listens to counsel is wise." The easiest way to interpret that verse is "listen to wise cousellors who tell you what you want to hear." Unfortunately, that is what the first part of that verse refers to as a fool. If you only listen to the counsel that tells you what you want to hear, you are foolish. Listen to counsel from many wise people. Weigh the good and the bad. Don't shut out the counsel that doesn't fit your perfect scenerio. For us, the counsel came from our friend and precious realtor, Gretchen, Tina, our lender at the bank, Dave Ramsey at Lifepoint's Financial Peace University, and from a heartfelt desire for God to give us peace. We aren't sure what the future holds for Phil's parents but we will continue to do our best to honor them and help them however we can. As for us, I love the home God gave us just a year and a half ago. It was a gift then and still is today.

Making Assumptions

My friend, Sheri, emailed me this picture. The child was apparently supposed to color a picture of what they wanted to be when they grew up. This child's mom worked in a hardware store and sold shovels. Without explanation though, the picture is quite misleading. Is she a pole dancer? Isn't that how we often think? Making assumptions based upon the way things appear rather than getting the facts. Because of our position in the church, I often find myself trying to justify my actions and needing to make an explanation because of the way things appear. For instance, in June of 2007, our family moved into a new home. We had never lived in a brand new house before and because of our property investments over the prior 18 years, God blessed and made it happen. People got curious and the "drive-bys" began. This isn't unusual for a pastor's family and it doesn't bother us. People want to know how and where the preacher's family lives. Because our home is nice, people started saying things like "They would be able to do _____ if they hadn't bought such a nice house." Those people never came and got the facts about how the purchase took place, just made assumptions about our decisions and financial status. Now, just a year and a half later, we find ourselves in another possible move. Not a move we've pursued but a move that God is possibly making for our family so we can live in a home (here in San Angelo) large enough to move in and care for Phil's parents. I know people are going to talk and make assumptions. I guess there is no way around that. We don't know if we are moving or not, only that it will take a miracle for it to happen. I told my boys thismorning that if the decision were left up to us, we would stay in our current home forever, and maybe we will, but God sometimes rearranges our lives. I don't want to guide the ship, I'd prefer to leave that in God's hands. So, if you see a "for sale" sign go up in our yard, please don't make assumptions about the way it appears. Just pray that our family stays or lands right where God wants us.

Sitting on the Sidelines

We just got home from Kyle's basketball game. He is playing on an 8th grade team but he's only in 6th grade. We feared his miles on the court would be few but have tried to encourage him that his first year in basketball is a learning experience and it's an honor just to share the bench with the older boys. Unfortunately that is about all he got to do tonight. It's hard to be the youngest player and have to watch the game go by from the sidelines. Lately it seems like God has had me sitting on the sidelines a lot. I know He uses me in ways that maybe I don't see, but I want to be out on the court, running, making the big 3 pointer! (If you know me at all, you'll know that was pretty impressive writing - knowing that the big points in basketball was 3 points.) Not everyone gets to be the star player. Many of us help make the play by passing or merely blocking so that someone else can drive it home. Those support roles are so important. I've always appreciated where God had me in the game - behind the scenes, making things come together so that others could be up on the front lines. I know that I am an important player but I'm ready to try some new plays and find out what all God can and wants to do through me. That makes me very nervous. It's so much easier to watch the game go by and not have to worry about getting hurt or run over by the opposing team. The good news is that I haven't been benched and the season is not over! For Kyle, the basketball season is just getting going. He will learn so much this year and his 3 pointer is getting really consistent. I'm going to stay on the sidelines in that game though and cheer him on! He has requested that I leave my pompons at home.

Thanksgiving for Grandpa

My Grandfather was one of the most influencial men in my life. I was always special to him and he was always waiting for me with a great big kiss and a candy dish loaded with gumdrops. I remember his strong arms. He was so strong. He had worked hard his whole life and it showed even into his seventies he was carrying things far heavier than I could handle. My grandpa taught me how to swim by throwing me over the boat into Beaver Lake. He taught me how to fish. He would bait the hook and then let me catch the fish. Grandpa never made me clean the fish but I had to watch him. That's why I will not eat fish to this very day. That's disgusting. Grandpa taught me how to use tools. He had bought two garages and two sheds full of tools at garage sales and always had what we needed somewhere out there. My grandpa helped Phil and I buy our first home, three months before we were married. It was a fixer-upper and it took the three months to get it ready for us to live in. He thought it would be funny if the paperwork showed that Phil and I bought a house together before we were married. The day my first baby was born, grandpa was there. He ripped my baby girl right out of my arms just minutes after she was born. I can still see that big smile. He was so proud of her, and I think he was proud of me too.

My grandpa died a few years ago around Thanksgiving. I had no idea how much that man meant to me until I lost him. His funeral was such a hard day. It broke my heart to have to say goodbye to my grandpa. He was so important to me. I really think he is responsible, in many ways, for who I am today. I think about my grandpa alot. His picture hangs by my kitchen table. Just thinking about him now makes my throat swell and my eyes tear up. I really miss him. I could use a great, big, strong hug and one of those famous, wet grandpa Brown kisses right now. I love you, grandpa Brown.

Technically Ignorant

Today I voted! I wish the story ended there, but it doesn't. I proudly walked into my voting precinct and checked in. The volunteer kindly asked, "Would you like to vote electronic or paper?" That's such a silly question. I consider myself technically savvy. I maintain our church website. I have a myspace AND a facebook account. I email constantly. For crying out loud, I'M A BLOGGER! Of course I wanted to vote electronic!

In San Angelo, we use the ESlate electronic voting machines. The fact that we use electronic voting at all in San Angelo really is quite impressive. San Angelo is home to a government military intelligence base but intelligence doesn't always seem to guide decisions in our city. Anyway, with my patriotic head held high, I pranced right in to my voting booth and promptly began pushing the buttons on the screen. I put a picture of the ESlate machine so you could see how ignorant my actions were. See the instructions on BOTH SIDES of the screen? See the HUGE buttons all along the bottom of the screen? The ESlate machine is NOT touch screen. This would seem like a silly mistake only I've done this more than once. In fact, every time I have voted since San Angelo got these machines, I've done the exact same thing. Push the screen, wrinkle my forehead and wonder why it's not working, discover the buttons. Push the screen, wrinkle my forehead and wonder why it's not working, discover the buttons. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

I apparently do not learn, even with repetition. Fortunately, they have these little curtains hung around the machine to protect the identity of the ignorant. You know what else? I didn't get a little I VOTED sticker! Who do I call? This election is rigged! I'd ask for another opportunity to vote but you know what I would do... Push the screen, wrinkle my forehead and wonder why it's not working, discover the buttons.

Sticky Situations

My kids are watching another classic episode of the Cosby Show. I love the Huxtable family. They can solve any family crisis in 30 minutes or less and find the humor in the situation at the same time. I personally always related to Vanessa (Tempestt Bledsoe). She questioned everything, was always in the middle of the controversy, and seemed to say everything that popped into her head, often without much thought. But even in the middle of crisis, Vanessa was thinking ahead - problem solving. "Denise pushed us out of the bathroom and Rudy doesn't have all of the shampoo rinsed out of her hair. If she goes blind can we get a dog?"

I'm like in that in some ways, often to a fault. When there is crisis, I'm usually looking past the crisis wondering what will happen when it's all over instead of helping deal with the situation at hand. Take the Dr. Pepper incident (that's how we refer to it in our house). Kyle decided that Dr. Pepper would be delicious frozen. Bailey and I are minding our own business, sitting on the couch watching tv when, out of nowhere, Dr. Pepper is raining in the living room. Now, at that moment, I could have been Cliff Huxtable and calmly but wittingly instructed my children on how THEY were going to clean up the mess. I, on the other hand, reacted more like Vanessa. "Kyle, it's on the ceiling, the tv, the couch, the dog! This will stain. What if the tv is ruined? I just bought this house! I don't want to repaint the ceiling. Everything is sticky. Now we HAVE TO MOVE AGAIN! What neighborhood will we move to? I wonder if we should get a house with a pool."

Unfortunately, life's issues, big and small, usually can not be solved in 30 minutes or less, and not every family crisis is funny or has a happy ending. I wish it could be. I would love to say that my life was perfect, but it isn't. I'd love to say that everything I do turns out rosey, but it doesn't. I'd love to know that my parents are always going to be there for me and my brother, but they aren't. Life isn't always like a tv sitcom. The good news is that, in time, things that seemed like crisis often become bumps in the road. Embarassing failures often become humorous stories. Old wounds slowly heal and become mere scars. Dr. Pepper stains become precious family memories... really, really sticky memories.