Big Blog Announcement!

I have something to tell you about this blog...I'm moving to a new site! For some time now I've thought about changing up the look. My incredible husband has helped me with it. We've been working out some bugs, but I'm ready now to share it with you. From now on, find this blog at www.alisonbryantwrites.com.

I do this with mixed feelings; there is some sentimentality for me about this first blog format. =) At the new one I'll add some more touches here and there to get settled in. I'd love your feedback over there. I do need to tell you this: this version of "Hmmm" is in Blogger, and the new version is in WordPress. It's still easy to add comments, and there's an optional place to add your web site/blog if you have one.

I'll leave up this blog for quite a while for anyone who might wander by and wonder where we went.

Thanks for taking part. You are what makes blogging fun. So come on over, and tell me what you think!

Glorieta

Some of you know that I'm at my first writers' conference. Just a quick update to let you know that I'm having a great time. This conference is full of fun, encouraging, godly people and lots of good information and worship time. I'm tired, but it's that tired you get when you're worn out from good things. Here's a shot from early evening, my favorite time of day. I'm so grateful God allowed me to come.

Taste O' Fall

The last post dealt with family meals. It got me a-thinking...With it being glorious fall right now, I decided to share a yearly tradition David and I have developed: making pumpkin pancakes together. Enjoy!









Pumpkin Pancakes with Apple Cider Syrup

For the pancakes:
1 Cup all-purpose flour
2 Tablespoons brown sugar
dash of salt
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 Cup milk
2 Tablespoons vegetable oil
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 Cup canned pumpkin
1/2 Cup sour cream
Combine all ingredients. Batter will be lumpy. Spray griddle with cooking spray or melt a pat of butter. Cook pancakes on griddle using medium heat until bubbles rise to the surface and edges are brown. Turn and bake until golden brown. Texture will be moist and velvety.

For the syrup:
1/2 Cup sugar
1 Tablespoon cornstarch
1/4 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
1 Cup apple cider or apple juice
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1/2 Cup butter
Mix sugar, cornstarch, and spice in a medium saucepan. Stir in apple cider and lemon juice. Cook over medium heat, stirring frequently, until it boils. Turn heat to low and allow syrup to thicken. Add butter, stirring in one Tablespoon at a time. Remove from heat. Refrigerate any unused syrup for another morning (or evening!).

The Triangle

The clang was loud in the house, but I loved it. It was the sound of an old-fashioned cast iron dinner triangle. We heard it each night when supper was ready. No, I wasn't outside on a windswept prairie. I was a little girl at home in the suburbs, and that triangle--and delectable smells from the kitchen--drew us together.

Supper. Some call it dinner, but to me it will always be supper. Growing up, supper meant more than my mom's tasty, homemade meals. It meant family time. We ate, of course, but we also prayed together, relived the day, laughed, debated (argued sometimes!), or simply had moments enrobed in silence. My sister and I were taught table manners. God bless my parents' patience!

Though not realizing it at the time, we were learning slowly how to "play well with others." The memories are good. There's something special about families dining together where God is an invited guest.

At the time this felt as normal as playing hopscotch on the sidewalk out front. Now I realize the commitment it took for my parents to carve out and protect that time night after night. Today's families attempting regular mealtime--be it supper, breakfast, or another time--must battle sports, meetings, lessons, practices, and work. It's not a cake walk. Good activities encroach on great ones. At my house we're spoiled right now. Some flexibility usually ensures at least one meal together each day--a flexibility we haven't always had and don't take for granted.

I'm not naive enough to suggest that there's an easy answer. Some families who would trade their TV to spend more time together are prevented by external obstacles. ...But can you imagine what the families of this country would be like if they spent half an hour eating together just a handful of times a week?

If you've read this blog for long you know that hunches tend to find me. This is no different. My hunch is that I'm a-preachin' to the choir. ...I'm realizing this post is pretty preachy, but that's okay. I'd like to hear from the choir: what memories do you have of mealtime--past or present, good or bad? Or, what family time challenges do you notice or experience today?

...In case you're wondering, that triangle still hangs in my parents' home. I'm on the lookout for one of our own.

Ready Line

I wanted a two-minute heads up about the questions. No such luck. The camera rolled.

Have you ever been at a loss for words? Or wish you could rewind the tape and have a do over? Unless you were just born, my hunch is that we've all been in these situations--maybe daily.

I was due for for one of these. My turn came again last week. As Inigo Montoya, my favorite fencing Spaniard says, "Let me 'splain." I work for a community-based anti-drug coalition. We've gained some experience dealing with prevention of drugs such as methamphetamine. It's always a struggle, but we've collected war stories to go with the community scars.

Through a process I won't detail here, the news program Nightline heard about our coalition's meth prevention efforts and those of law enforcement drug task forces in our part of the state. They decided to come talk to people in our area for a few days. ...Including me.

Now, before you rush out to track down my autograph, I'll say that if my boss had been in town, they would've interviewed her. I was Default Chick. Nonetheless, I was up to bat and felt twinges of nervousness and confidence. I knew my part (if it survives the cutting room) will be just a smidgen of the final product for national TV. But that added more pressure; I'd better prepare and get it right. The comments I offered would reflect on my community. So I did what any smart professional does in this situation: I went shopping.

With that crucial task out of the way, I set about preparing my responses to likely questions. With help from my boss, I went over and over our most recent, relevant stats. I mentally formulated sound bite summaries. I beckoned my inner child--who was a huge ham--to gain confidence. I was ready.

Interview day came. With last-minute review sheet in hand and lipstick in place I met the crew at a local park. For this session they would interview our mayor, then me. It was all so low key and uneventful. Sure, it was interesting watching the process with cameras, being wired with a microphone, etc., but in reality it was so casual. I could handle this.

Then it was my turn. I was a mixture of calmness and stomach flutters. They stood me several feet in front of the camera. The crew clustered behind camera and reporter. Without warning, the camera rolled and the questions came. Surely all of my preparation would pay off now. And...I have almost no idea if it did. Do you ever go into a zone and then not know later what happened exactly? My hunch is that when editors review this footage, they'll see Deer-in-Headlights Girl spouting off incoherent statistics. "Um, yes, the past-30 day use of meth correlates with the seven-day forecast for Boise, according to our analysis."

Well, maybe it wasn't that bad (though it might be!), but I do harbor a morbid sense of curiosity about what was captured on film.

One thing's for sure: I'll keep my little review sheet handy for when I need it for various reasons on short notice. I see the value of always being prepared.

That's helpful for we as Christians, too. We never know when God will lead us to something during our day--a person, situation--where being prepared with His answers will be needed. Second Timothy 4:2 (NIV) says, "Be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke, and encourage--with great patience and careful instruction." Yes, Paul intended this for a pastor, but it holds water for us, too. We can't predict what God has for us each day. Questions about our faith could ambush us, or a hurting friend may need a shoulder.

We can be ready for "divine appointments" through a couple of key means. First, we can feast on His word each day. I'm focusing on "feast" and "each day." We're busy people, but chowing down on the scriptures regularly, rather than nibbling politely on Sundays, will always reap huge rewards in time. Isn't it amazing how we're talking with someone and a certain passage or topic comes up. "I was just reading about that in my Bible," you say. Discipleship's discipline meets God's opportunities. His purposes are worked out.

Similarly, we can feast our on time with Him. As I spend time with Him and submit, He works on my armor as we talk, repairing the shield, cleaning my sword, arming me in almost imperceptible ways. Then I'm ready "in season and out of season," drawing on what He's given me just when it's needed. I can fight temptation with a rebuke or offer encouragement to a wounded soul. He supplies the ready line, and I am content to be used.

So, here's my question for you: what are some other ways you've found to be ready for "divine appointments"? Or I'd love to hear about a situation when God used you unexpectedly.

You might be a writer if...

...you're in the middle of a dream at night at you think, "Oooh, I should write about this!" I heard this recently from someone else, and last night I did that myself.

I woke up inspired and smiling. What a great story this'll be! Then my eyes narrowed as I thought through the dream Mr. Sandman had delivered. Hmm. Maybe it wouldn't be quite as interesting as I thought. Perhaps people won't find it fascinating that a group stranded at a gothic, scenic overlook of a dry ocean in El Paso was about to be annihilated by a massive surge of icebergs. Funny how things seem different in the light of day.

But I can't help but hope that tonight I'll get new material. Perhaps I should seal the deal by having pumpkin pancakes for supper. They always give me odd dreams. Has anyone else found food that always gives them strange dreams?

Speaking of supper, soon I'll post some thoughts based on the most recent poll. Grab your fork and knife.

Be there, or...

If you're anywhere near Carlsbad, New Mexico this Saturday the 4th, make plans to go by Hastings between 2 - 4 p.m. Author Travis W. Inman will have a book signing for his novel, When Love Calls. If you haven't read this story, you'll get quite a treat.

Those not near Carlsbad can go to his web site to order an autographed copy. Also, don't miss out on his entertaining blog.

Listen

If you've been anywhere near civilization the last week or so (and if you're reading this, I assume you are now) you've been bombarded with newscasters' voices delivering unsavory news reports...financial crisis, candidates launching verbal darts, hurricane recovery...on and on.

It's enough to rattle a person's nerves if allowed. However, we can't ignore these happenings. Sand was not meant as a home for our heads.

Instead I'll suggest a momentary refuge. Have you noticed lately the sounds of the season? Anyone who knows me (or who reads this blog for long) knows that I love fall. The sounds around us right now aren't all unique to fall, but humor me for now. As I tap out these words, a chorus of crickets sings my neighborhood to sleep. In the mountains, breezes play aspen leaves like nature's wind chimes. Other trees surrender their leaves to tall piles in yards, laughing children crunching them with leaping cannon balls. Taking a moment to focus on small pleasures reminds me that our world still makes sense at times. I smile and thank God.

I could go on a lot longer, but I'd rather hear about your favorite seasonal sounds.

Heroes

The onslaught of TV season premieres is in full swing. Have you settled down with some popcorn and the remote lately?

There are a few shows I've been looking forward to. It did my girly heart good to see Dancing with the Stars sashay across the small screen last night. ...But that's another post. I'd love to stir up some debate with that one.

Heroes premiered last night, too. I've watched it off and on since it began, finding the storyline interesting but the action often too gory for my tastes. I did watch the two-hour premiere. It delivered breathtaking twists and turns.

One of the calmer moments has camped out in my thoughts. (Warning: vague spoiler ahead) The character of Nathan, a politician, quietly contemplates an opportunity for power and position laid out before him. He's hesitant to accept it, thinking soberly about how he misused power in the past. For a moment he has a new outlook; he's more eager to pass on the public glory than to welcome the temptation to lose his integrity again.

That scene got me thinking about our desires and ambitions, and God's role in those things. Yesterday morning I read this honest prayer in Proverbs 30:8-9 (NASB):

Keep deception and lies far from me,
Give me neither poverty nor riches;
Feed me with the food that is my portion,
That I may not be full and deny you and say, "Who is the LORD?"
Or that I not be in want and steal,
And profane the name of my God.

Does this strike you, like it did me, as totally counterculture to our society, even sometimes Christian society? We're bombarded with voices telling us that the only natural thing to do is get all you can... Money. Power. Status. Stuff. On and on. In some Christian circles we've been told that we need to invoke the Prayer of Jabez to expand our territories of influence.

Now, I'm feeling the mental darts that some of you are shooting my direction. Are you saying, Alison, that it's always wrong for Christians to have or seek out stuff or power? Of course not. I believe that God puts some Christians in positions of influence or gives them money to use for His purposes. He gives us healthy ambition for His plans.

But many of you would agree that it comes down to attitude. Am I seeking the prestige of the world or the pleasure of God? What's my focus? True, not everyone will face opportunities of having buckets of cash or holding public position, but each of us deals with this issue in some form--whatever our situation.

It's so tempting to fall into the trap of wanting people's approval and admiration instead of seeking God in all things. It takes a mature person to approach "success" and ambition with a humble attitude. I find a lot of wisdom in David's prayer in Psalm 139.

Search me O God, and know my heart;
Try me and know my anxious thoughts;
And see if there is any hurtful way in me,
And lead me in the everlasting way.

David sure had to wrestle with these issues--he was a king, for goodness' sake. He was human, too. It's encouraging to have this earnest prayer written down for us to read and follow suit. The same God he walked with is available and desires to guide us. We must seek after Him daily, giving him our dreams, ambitions, and allegiance. Although I fall flat on my face constantly, I pray that I'll pursue Him and his desires more passionately than anything I want on earth. People who live this way consistently are real-life heroes to me, and hopefully for all of us.

Sequel, Part Deux

Right now I'm watching Return to Snowy River, the sequel to The Man from Snowy River. While the first one was good, I was fuming at the end. I've been told that this one will make me mad only until about the last fourth of the movie. (sigh) I'm banking on that. Other movie franchises have proved phenomenal, while others should've never seen the light of the projector. Karate Kid II...and III come to mind.

So I'm wondering: which movie sequels have you loved? Despised? Do you think it's always a mistake to try to top a great story, or should a great movie keep the good times rolling with a follow-up?

Labor

The latest assignment for the writers' group was to write about the theme "labor". The theme was decided right before Labor Day, after all. Here's my offering. I might edit it sometime in the future because this was a scrambling-out-the-door, seven-minute effort. I've realized that I need to pace my writers' group assignments, not always putting them on the back burner for other projects.

The theme for next time is forgiveness. Hmm...


The workshop was inky dark, empty when the craftsman set to work, feet planted firmly.
Twinkle in his eye, command barely whispered…light.
Brilliance dazzled the loneliest corners of the space.

A finger lifted, oceans and sky repelled each other, taking their assigned place.
The craftsman stood, considering for but a moment.
Then expanses of land chased the oceans in retreat.
He brushed the lushness of trees and fields with his fingertips.

Day by day, new masterpieces sprung to life…
Blazing sun, watchful moon, penlight stars
Myriad creatures sounding praise

The craftsman finally stepped back and smiled, full of pleasure from his final
Masterpiece— called
Man and Woman

Then for a moment he folded his hands, resting
--yet needing no rest—
from his labor.

Another year

It's hard to believe that it's time for another 9/11 anniversary. It feels like deja vu; I remember that I was out of town last year at this time, and I'm in the exact same place this year.

Of course I remember that day seven years ago even more vividly. That has me thinking... It seems like our society today has such a short memory. We're desensitized to the crises of the day, often preferring milder "news" like celebrities' fashion blunders. I fear sometimes that in the climate of political turmoil and daily spin of stories, some are slowly forgetting, or --worse yet-- remembering a different version of it, not how horrific and unjust it truly was. Yet remembering reminds us what we have to cherish and thank God for, and that there are just causes.

So let's imagine that we're holding a time capsule for the next generation to discover 50, maybe 75 years from now. What would you want them to know about September 11, 2001? Or, what is it about this country that's worth fighting to keep?

14,600 ...

...sure beats our 3,650+ by a long shot. Days of marriage, that is. Happy 40th anniversary to my parents, Joel and Judy!

Congratulations. We're proud of you, and we love you.

Also, happy 12th anniversary to Daniel and Kara, my brother-in-law and sister-in-law. Popular day to get married apparently! Anyone care to share any "secrets of a happy marriage" stories --serious or humorous?

A trip down literary lane

When you read a book as a child, it becomes a part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does. - Meg Ryan as Kathleen Kelly in You've Got Mail

Nursery rhymes. The most recent Poem Off topic got me reminiscing about things I heard and read as a kiddo. I think there 's a lot of truth to the quote above, don't you? Whether you read a little or a lot as a child, it tends to stick with you. With that in mind, come with me on this memory lane jaunt, revisiting some of my early influences--just a small sampling. Maybe it'll jog your memory too.

I've always loved reading. I guess I came by that naturally: both of my parents love to read, and my mom is a retired librarian. When I was very young, most nights my dad would read me a book that he let me pick out. I loved those times. One book in particular got chosen a lot. Horton Hatches the Egg was a Christmas gift from a neighbor. I can still hear the promise Horton repeated time after time: "I meant what I said and I said what I meant. An elephant's faithful one hundred percent!" It's a great book. I mean, how can you go wrong with Dr. Seuss? ...And a flying elephant-bird, for goodness' sake?

The Bible also captured my imagination. Sunday school each week was filled with incredible stories! The older I get the more convinced I am that God is the master storyteller. ...A boy killing a giant with a slingshot, a talking donkey, a short, little man who climbs a tree to see Jesus, a city's wall falling after only marching and shouting, a man falling out of a window and dying (and coming back to life!) because he fell asleep, walking on water... who else could make up this stuff? And it's all true! Genius, to understate the obvious.


Poetry. Not everyone associates little kids and classic poetry recitation. Mrs. Ables, my second grade teacher sure did, and it scared the jeepers out of me. We had to choose between two poems, memorize it, and recite it in front of class. Despite being the bold tomboy that I was back then, that thought made me nervous. Mrs. Ables encouraged us by reciting a poem her teacher made her memorize in second grade. My eyes got big. I didn't know that someone "old" like her could remember that far back. (Oh, how perspectives change!) I chose Robert Lewis Stevenson's "The Swing," and even survived reciting it for my class.

How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside--
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown--
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!


Ramona Quimby was another one of my literary buddies. I loved Beverly Cleary's books about this little girl around my age, and by coincidence we even had the same awful haircut. It made me feel a little better about that. I saw a lot of myself in her and her family, and it was plain fun following her escapades.

I've already had a request for a post about literary influences as an adult. That will come later. For now, I'd love to know what stories you remember from your childhood.

The Battle Rages On...

...in the second round of the Poem Off. Make sure you go to Travis W. Inman's blog to read the entries and vote. Fireworks, giants, treasure chests -- this battle has something for everyone. Voting ends Thursday morning!

I'm still wondering what the prize will be.

Year of Hmmm...

It's hard for me to believe, but today it's been one year since I started this blog. It's been more fun than I imagined. That's thanks to all of you who read and participate--I appreciate it. Hopefully you'll keep finding reasons to be a part of this. Thanks again.

Rhyme and Reason

Happy Thursday to all...

Don't forget to enter the latest Poem Off over at Travis W. Inman's blog. This should be a really fun one. I have no idea what my finished product will be like, but it's starting to churn in my head. Entries are due by this Sunday night.

Switching gears, I have a little update for you. Some of you ask me from time to time how my writing is going. I had a couple of developments last week. First, I found out that another member of the writers' group I've been attending decided to help me along in my writing pursuits. =) This is a dear, older gentleman who always has a twinkle in his eye and something up his sleeve. From our group time he had a copy of a couple of my poems--one I had actually labored over, and one I threw together for a group assignment. My phone rings a couple of weeks later, and it's a writing professor who helps publish a local, periodic, literary gazette. Apparently the gentleman took it upon himself to submit my poems for me. They're being considered for inclusion in the publication, and the professor said they'll most likely be in there. She realized that I didn't know they were submitted and called to get my permission. Not to take anything away from the other writers, but while it's a compliment, this isn't like winning Poet Laureate status. Still, it's nice to hopefully be included. Now I need to be extra careful what I bring to the group!

Update Number Two: I registered for the Glorieta Christian Writers' Conference in October. I'm very, very excited (grinning as I write this)! Three hundred-plus attendees and lots of professional writers, editors, and agents will be there. I've been thinking and praying about this for months--David, too. I've been torn partly because that's the same time as Reality Weekend, one of the biggest events for our youth group each year. Isn't it often a challenge to struggle with multiple priorities and callings on your life? I felt guilty for even considering "skipping out" on our teenagers, and had about decided not to go to the conference. But after more prayer and talking with David, we decided together that God wants me to go. David is so supportive, which is invaluable to me.

While there I'm hoping ta lurn how ta write bettur, maybe meet some new friends, and learn more about the business, which is fascinating to me. It's still hard for me sometimes to tell people that God has called me to write, especially since I don't know what direction He wants me to take. But I do know that He wants me to make tracks to Glorieta...and I can't wait to go.

Let's get ready to rumble!

Here we go again...it's time for another Poem-Off!

But this time, someone else is hosting the festivities and will provide the prize. If you haven't done so already, head on over to Travis W. Inman's blog and join in the vote!

Just Like Riding a Bike

Here's my latest little ditty I created for the writers' group. The challenge was to write a story about something funny that's happened to you.

It was a perfect day. Blue skies, mild temperatures, the sound of a soft breeze in the palm trees, and the vibrant scent of orchids—a beautiful Florida afternoon. My parents, sister, and I were enjoying our vacation thoroughly. It would be the last vacation with just the four of us before I got married in a few months. Melissa, my older sister, had been given a free week at a timeshare resort in Orlando and wanted to share it with the rest of the family. …So there we were, relaxing at this large, hilly resort filled with condos.

The property offered lots of activities for its guests. Swimming, tennis, walking trails…and biking, among other things. “Hmm,” Melissa and I mused while deciding how to spend the afternoon. “How about getting a couple of bikes?” she suggested. Sure, why not? I thought. It’ll be fun. We haven’t ridden bikes in years, but how hard could it be? Just like riding a bike, right? I chuckled inwardly at my own wittiness. As we chose our bicycles from a small supply outside the main lobby, I could already picture Melissa and me, gazing at the trees and plants along the bike path, riding gracefully.

There was one problem with that picture: The resort had no bike paths. In reality our ride would meander through the narrow roads of the property, lined with cars in parking spaces next to the three-story buildings. “That’s okay,” I said with a carpe diem attitude.

“You ready? Let’s go.” Melissa was pedaling, and I hurried to mount my bike and follow her. The ride turned out to be just as pleasant and fun as I’d pictured, only with towering buildings instead of towering trees. The wind in my face and hair was refreshing, and it felt good simply to be alive. I took a deep breath and smiled.

Then we gained speed as we headed down a hill. Just then, my eyes suddenly came into sharp focus. Melissa, looking like a Tour de France rider, made a skillful, last-minute right turn onto a side street. She quickly disappeared from sight, assuming I was behind her. I jolted to attention and scrambled to follow, leaning to the right as much as I dared.

Bonk! It was too late. I rebounded on my bike as my front tire ran perpendicular into the front tire of an SUV. I blinked in surprise. …The SUV was expensive. The SUV was running. The SUV was occupied, waiting to turn onto the road we’d been following. Stunned but not hurt, I sat on my bike and stared at two sets of eyes staring back at me, about three feet from my face. The eyes’ owners were a middle-aged man and one who appeared to be the man’s son and about my age. I was speechless and mortified. The car engine’s humming filled the silence.

Finally, the man turned and said something in Italian to his son. The son had an annoyed expression on his face, but he slowly slid from his seat and came around the front of the SUV to me. I was desperate to not look as ridiculous as I felt. Luckily, my shock led me utter brilliance. Shifting into the mindset I’ve had after car fender benders, I blurted to this guy, “Are you okay?” --Like my innocuous bicycle could inflict bodily harm through the armor of a car. I cringed at my words and turned crimson. The Italian son stifled a smile and said nothing. I settled on rolling back a couple of feet, and we looked over the SUV. No damage; the car would live. Unlike my dignity. We all muttered some sort of farewell, and I wheeled toward where I’d last seen my sister.

Seconds later, she glided up to me. “Where have you been?”

Poem-Off: And the winner is...

We have a winner of the first Poem-Off. And that winner is... (trumpet music) David Bryant! Of course, he wrote the epic poem about the bear. Great job! For your efforts, David, you get this picture of a crown (the British monarchy is borrowing it from you for a while) and a batch of brownies.

I will say that he put a lot of effort in this. The story cracks me up, and I'm glad he wrote it. So, if you ever have drunk bear problems, you know now to call on Hasselhoff. Hmmm...maybe he should be the emcee of our next challenge...

Do you want to know who wrote each one? Here's the list:
Poem 1: Travis W. Inman
Poem 2: Alison
Poem 3: Travis W. Inman
Poem 4: Alison
Poem 5: David Bryant

And I would like to again say thanks to Travis for throwing the gauntlet. I think he knew exactly what he was doing and knew we'd all have fun with it. I really enjoyed his poems, too.

Thanks to you who voted...hope you had a good time.

Iron Poet: Battle Circus

Let the Poem-Off begin!

Listed below you'll find the entries for the theme, "Circus Surprise." The theme could be interpreted in any way by the writers.
Some silliness, some seriousness. All are anonymous until the winner is revealed. We did have a couple of cases of more than one entry per person. I made an executive decision to include each entry. Take a gander, then vote using the poll in the left margin. Voting is open until Friday morning. Later that day we'll crown a new Iron Poet, winner of the Poem Off.

Thank you to each person who submitted an entry. This has been a lot of fun. Who knows? If you all like it, too, maybe we'll do it again sometime.

Poem 1

To our dismay

The tightrope gave

And sent its bearer plunging

He fell so long

And fell headlong

His awkward legs were fumbling

And as he fell

He did not yell

He met his fate with laughter

For in the net

A second chance

Was granted—which he’ll flaunter.

Poem 2

young boy

smile as bright as a circus spotlight

lighting, brightening the dimmest rooms

…star of the show

star of the show

wows the crowd…master showman, master of ceremonies--

his song not perfect, yet he remained

star of the show

star of the show

exited on time—His time--but left the crowd wanting more

his light was dimmed too soon for the

star of the show

young boy’s young cousin

watches the crowd, hears the master of this odd ceremony

wonders why the smiles have dimmed, for she knows he’s now with the

Star of the show

Poem 3

A magician fluffed his robe and stepped into the ring

He wanted to see if an elephant could sing

And not just sing, but sing as a bird

And if it could, he’d want it heard.

He flicked his wand and produced a smoke

Once inhaled the elephant choked

But when he choked, he began to howl

And not as a monkey, but as an owl

The magician was troubled and flicked again

This time the creature clucked like a hen.

Not only cluck, but it scratched and pecked

And rooted around for a juicy insect

He rolled up his sleeves and tried anew

This time he shot a jet of blue

When it struck, the elephant growled

And as a lion began to prowl

Despite the scowls from the crowd

He lifted his wand and produced a frown

But once he pointed and produced a light

The elephant took off in a terrible fright.

For it had become the only elephant

That could cluck like a hen,

Howl as an owl,

Prowl as a lion,

Sing like a bird

But the magician wanted to logic defy

Instead he produced a circus surprise.

Poem 4

The circus stopped in the next town

Out went the horses, tightropes, clowns

The people came (and none was fickle)

To see the show and crunch on pickles

The red-striped tent was hot and loud

Applause erupted through the crowd

For elephants, tigers, and trapeze

Up so high none dared to sneeze

Yet when a man roared out a tune

Gasps sucked air from the whole room

For the “opera” singer there this time

Was none other than the mime

Poem 5

The circus was in town,
And we couldn’t wait to go,
We packed up all the family,
And we headed to the show.
But our night was very different,
It turned out really queer,
And all because of that one bear
Who drank a can of beer.

The lion tamer was nervous,
His lion had been rough,
So he opened up a frosty beer
And started to engulf.
Nobody should ever drink,
(That’s something we all know),
He wandered off without his beer
Distracted by his phone.

This bear had a tricky act,
Where he balanced on a ball,
So the bear and his male trainer,
Headed out for the great hall.
The trainer stopped to talk to Sue,
The cute young acrobat,
He didn’t see the beer can,
That the bear was staring at.

The bear reached out his giant paws
And grabbed it in one swipe,
And just that fast, the beer was gone,
Down his big windpipe.
The rest is really frightening,
But you really need to hear,
And all because of that one bear
Who drank a can of beer.

The trainer did not notice,
The bear was acting strange;
He gaze was still on Sue,
Who was still in visual range.
The bear began to do his act;
But some began to jeer,
And all because of that one bear
Who drank a can of beer.

The bear was really tipsy,
He couldn’t stay upright
He slipped right off his little ball,
fell like a concrete kite.
Then things went really crazy,
And lots of things were weird,
And all because of that one bear
Who drank a can of beer.

The bear liked cotton candy,
And he charged the little cart
He stuck his head down in the treat
Which probably wasn’t smart.
His face was blue and sticky,
And the people ran in fear,
And all because of that one bear
Who drank a can of beer.

Now the bear with covered eyes,
Ran around with great abandon,
Not seeing where he’s going,
He got stuck inside the cannon.
We all know what cannons do,
No need to say it here,
And all because of that one bear
Who drank a can of beer.

The cannon fired loudly,
And through the air he flew,
Like any other bear who flies,
A great big howl he blew.
Inside the tent was chaos,
So loud no one could hear,
And all because of that one bear
Who drank a can of beer.

He landed on the tightrope,
A bear who’s scared of heights,
He wrapped his legs around the rope,
It was really quite a sight.
The crowd was really worried,
They really were sincere,
And all because of that one bear
Who drank a can of beer.

The bear’s paws slipped and down he fell,
He was growling all the way.
Bouncing off the safety net,
That net had saved the day.
And once they saw his safe descent,
The crowd with one voice cheered,
And all because of that one bear
Who drank a can of beer.

About the bear, the clowns knew not,
And in the ring they flew,
And one clown started cussing;
when he stepped in the bear poo.
Children all around the ring,
Quickly shut their ears,
And all because of that one bear
Who drank a can of beer.

The ringmaster fainted,
And The trainer, he ran off.
"I’ll go and stop that crazy bear!"
yelled David Hasselhoff.
He bravely strode into the ring,
While people gasped in fear,
And all because of that one bear
Who drank a can of beer.

David walked up to the bear,
And bonked him on the head,
The bear just fell and landed hard,
He really did look dead.
The circus was so grateful
On That long and fateful night,
Hasselhoff got lifetime passes,
Since he helped them in their plight.

The bear was really fine;
He was surprisingly okay,
He lived for many years,
Performing all the way.
But there is much for us to learn
About more than hosselhoff,
We need to see that bears get drunk
And can even catch a cough.

Well, this story has a moral
Which is really quite austere:
don’t ever leave your bear alone,
or else he’ll find your beer.
Better yet, don’t ever drink;
you’ll never have to hear,
"Hey, you act just like that bear
Who drank a can of beer."

Calling all submissions...

Good morning...

Friendly reminder: if you plan do battle in the Poem-Off, go ahead a send them to me by midnight tonight. I won't "cheat," as I've been accused of.
You have my e-mail if you know me already. For those who don't know where to send them, e-mail them to bloghmmm at yahoo dot com.

Random thoughts

I'd like your opinion...

Please put on your imagination caps and tell me what you think. How do you imagine that someone speaking "Texan" would say, "Let's hurry up" during a crisis? As in,
"Let's hurry to the sale at the mall", or
"Let's hurry to the burrito shack." Just wondering.

Now, don't tell me that you don't go about your day wondering about this.

The winner gets a brand new, imaginary imagination cap.

First (Annual?) Poem-Off

Okay, people...quiet down! Let's have some order here.

Great! Now, let's get down to business. To bring everyone up to speed, this week I've had a poll on the blog listing hypothetical titles. I said I'd write something about the winning title. Lo and behold, late yesterday I was challenged to a poetry throwdown by Travis W. Inman. This challenge has grown, and now anyone who wants to compete can toss your hat in the ring. What's at stake? Bragging rights...and a batch of homemade brownies. If the winner is out of town, I'll ship them to that person.

Here are the rules:
- One entry per person
- No limit on size, scope, or form (doesn't have to rhyme), as long as it's a poem
- Title is "Circus Surprise"
- Entries due by midnight Tuesday, July 22nd
- Entries will be posted on Wednesday, voting will be by a poll I'll create...honor system that you vote only once. You can vote for yourself.
- Entries will be posted with no names attached, just labeled something like Poem A, etc.

So get to it and good luck!

P.S. For those of us whose vibrant night life on Fridays is filled with TV, Monk and Psych start again tonight (yay!), and Stargate Atlantis started last Friday.

Steppin' Out

It's time.

In the paper I just found out that the local university branch is hosting a free creative writing workshop this afternoon. People are supposed to bring a poem or short story to share. The group will give feedback.

I'm excited and slightly nervous. Excited because this is a passion of mine and opportunities like this are rare in our small city. Slightly nervous because there's always a risk when you share what you've created. ...But this is good for me. It's time to take advantage of chances to exit the comfort zone again. I'll pull out my thick skin from the closet and will hopefully get some useful critiquing while there (and hear others' good material). No doubt it will be a small, casual group. ...Okay, I'm getting more excited now!

Hmmm....what material to take?

If you're interested, I'll update you later on what it was like.

What Not to Expect

Several people I know have been going through difficult times lately. In light of that, I thought I'd do a short "ditty" (that term is a whole other story) for a little reprieve.

Do you find that life never ceases to surprise? I love the amusing surprises.

Like today.

After the morning church service, I meandered into a main hallway in our church building. I happened by one of our older members, a friend of ours named Allan (and I know he wouldn't mind me sharing this).

Allan is a wonderful, endlessly colorful person; he and his wife are precious. He loves to laugh and cut up, but make no mistake: Allan has a hefty supply of tough-guy stories he can whip out at a moment's notice. ...Retired career military, one of the first Navy SEALS...he even has an ever-present eye patch with an American flag lapel pin secured on the front. You get the picture.

So imagine my surprise today when we're talking about TV shows and he says with total seriousness, "Don't you love that show 'What Not to Wear'?"

Why, yes, I do. But at that moment, my eyes got as big as a beauty queen's hairstyle to hear him say that. For the uninitiated, "What Not to Wear" is a weekly makeover show where two hosts ambush a person and whisk them away to New York for a week. Results? Head to toe transformations.

He went on. And on. "I tape it every Friday night. Boy, some of those people you just wonder if they'll ever make them look better. ...And the hair! I try to guess ahead of time if the person will let Nick cut it as much as he wants to. Did you see the episode marathon on Friday?"

I had to laugh then and there--one of those deep, belly laughs. What an unexpected thing to be chit-chatting with Allan about Stacy, Clinton, and shopping trips.

I hope I never quit looking for the unexpected.

So... what amusing surprises have found you?

The Path to Peace?

"How many of you want more mental concentration, happiness, wellness, and peace in your life?"

Those were the first words our of her mouth, and my first clue that this would not go well, although I hoped that it was just the weird chicken at lunch that put me in a foul mood. Why was it a clue, you ask? Who doesn't want those things in their life?

Even more than that, who doesn't want their kids to learn better in school and learn to take responsibility for their own actions? The video she played showed kids laughing, stretching, concentrating, and having fun. Parents and school administrators from across the nation praised the program for the amazing results seen in their children.

Let me explain: Last week I was at a state meeting required for my job in drug prevention. The state government here is...um, open minded when it comes to things of a liberal nature. That said, when I go to these meetings I'm keenly aware of how prevalent this type of thinking is in those circles. It's not unusual for me to have a very different view of things.

But last week really got my goat, so to speak. The agenda said that we would learn about "brain education" and how to help us concentrate more. I had a funny feeling about it, but tried to be optimistic. I half expected that floating head guy on Nintendo's Brain Age games to float his way into the meeting room and have us do some sudoku.

Instead, the likable woman leading the presentation opened with what I described at the top. We would see how their "brain education" helped lots of kids, and as a bonus, we'd learn some take-home techniques for ourselves! Yee haw. Now, don't get me wrong: I'm all for being able to concentrate and be a "power brain," but I soon saw that this went beyond that.

After the video with the kids, the woman talked more about the amazing potential of the human brain. She led the group in "Dahn yoga", guided imagery with "power balls" (don't get me started), and exercises to stimulate the blood flow to the brain, which to her is the "source of all the answers you need for your life and your purpose." That strike anyone else a little odd? I felt like I was watching a live performance from Frank Peretti's Piercing the Darkness.

Such talk progressed. By the end of the hour, we had gone from focusing on kids learning better to finding the ultimate source of peace and purpose in the unlimited potential of our own brains. That's quite a stretch, all in one time with this group, let alone several sessions with children.

...So sneaky are lies that sound good. As we sat through this hour, I became angry and frustrated. I couldn't stand that the state government office that brought her sang this woman's praises and called her work "dazzling." I cringed to think that this curriculum is in over 220 schools across the U.S. (including many in my state), and the group's leaders are now official consultants to the United Nations. This could mean far reaching consequences for many people.

What kind of consequences? Let's think about this. This woman promised that this program would give participants happiness and inner peace. I believe that any search for peace and happiness that seeks it outside of God is wrong and a sham. Those people may believe it sincerely, and that makes me very sad. I hope they realize the truth before it's too late. The truth is that we can find true peace and happiness only in God through Jesus Christ. To follow any other "path" is to eventually run into a dead end.

I suggest that we must be so careful about the influences around us and around children. Let's ramp up our radars for anything that leads us away from the absolute truth of God. Let's be vigilant. Let's lovingly share God's truth and live it out in front of people who are tragically deceived. Do we dare in today's politically correct world? I hope that the next time I'm in this situation, I'll be able to say that I dared to be even more bold, speaking the truth in love.

It doesn't take much to inform yourself. A few minutes was all it took for me to research this group online and find their core, New Age-y beliefs. Have you ever noticed that other lies of the world beside this creep into Christian thinking, almost unnoticed? Let's be on our guard, Church, while we draw closer to Christ. Knowing him better helps us recognize the counterfeits.

I'll leave you with a list of quotes from that day's presenter, the group's web site, and the web site of the group's founder. Read and decide for yourself. I'm curious to know what you think.

"By unlocking your brain's potential, you can have personal wellness and peace."

"To live a purposeful life, tap into the potential of your brain, particularly your brain stem. Your brain is your friend, and it has the answers to all of your questions about your life."

"This holistic training system cultivates the brain's unlimited potential to develop into a Power Brain, a brain that is productive, creative, and peaceful."

"You are the creator of your life."

"PowerBrain Education was founded on the premise that human flourishing is optimized when the many aspects of the self are developed in an integrated manner. We refer to this comprehensive approach to human development as brain education.

PowerBrain Education is now offering Brain Education (BE) for Enhanced Learning to schools in the United States and worldwide. The BE for Enhanced Learning program includes physical, emotional, and cognitive exercises, as well as postures, breathing techniques, guided imagery, and games to develop children’s creative self-efficacy. The ultimate goal is for children to gain confidence for promoting health, happiness, peacefulness, and achievement, for themselves and others." - From the PowerBrain web site, www.powerbrainedu.com, Sedona, AZ

1. Listen for the voice of your soul until you find your passionate life purpose.
2. Embrace suffering and emptiness as the foundation of enlightenment.
3. Live as your soul directs with honesty, integrity, and diligence.
4. Smile and be at peace for no reason.
5. Recognize that you are what you choose and what you act.
6. When you need an answer, ask your brain. --Ilchi Lee, founder of PowerBrain
   

"We believe that humanity’s greatest asset is the one we all possess --the brain itself."

Heads Up

I'll admit it: I love the sunsets here in our part of the country. We get a beautiful show every night, and there are never re-runs.

Tonight's performance didn't disappoint. Have you ever noticed the color of dusk when the sky might rain, but hasn't made up its mind? About 30 minutes before dusk is my favorite time of day anyway, so things were pretty already. This evening we were bathed in a rosy, yellowy glow. It was almost eerie, yet too pretty for me to mind. I sure wish it had actually rained--we need it so badly here--and the scent outside even teased with moisture for awhile.

While I glanced briefly at the sky, God reminded me to slow down and take it all in. I had been shuttling laundry back and forth to our semi-detached laundry room facing the backyard, and I was writing a growing mental list of household chores I really wanted to tackle tonight. And normally I don't like spending much time in our backyard. It's a testament to our two failed attempts at starting a nice lawn.

...But the clouds were irresistible! I had to stop. To the east gray clouds grumbled with pent up rain; to the west an unbelievable turquoise sky begged to be admired. In between the two, I couldn't take my eyes off of the most unique, puffy little white clouds. If they had been separate...well, nothing to write home about. But together, they looked woven like the feathers on the underside of an angel's huge wing--at least, what I imagine angels' wings look like. The edge of the "wing" made a diagonal line across the sky, almost like the wing was sheltering our town, yet letting us glimpse God's glory in the blue sky. (That made sense in my mind.) =)

I called David out to see it, too. He enjoyed the view with his camera lens, and I enjoyed the breeze. It was a simple, amazing moment to relax in God's beauty. I felt almost childlike as wondered at the gift of sight and beautiful colors all around us. I'm so glad that God slowed me down, giving me a "heads up."

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday today, sister! I hope it's a great day for you. I wouldn't want anyone else for a sister, especially since you used to let me borrow your clothes. =)

I found this picture of her (from just a few years ago) and couldn't resist posting it. Isn't she cute?

Hidden Talents

...In the meantime, as I create my poetry extravaganza, here's a little something. For my sister-in-law Christi's blog challenge, I wrote a little story. The first paragraph was supplied already, then I wrote the rest.

I tried a different method this time. I challenged myself to write in somewhat of a stream of consciousness...I didn't plan ahead of time where the story would go. I also didn't edit much. It was an exercise in seeing where my imagination traipsed off to--pretty, um, interesting results! =) I gave myself about 30-40 minutes total to write it. (And for those of you who may ask-- yes, I am still working on my other story.)

Have a great weekend. Here you go...

She rolled over and felt the tickle of sunlight roll over her eyelashes as it peeked through her polka dot organza curtains. With a groan, Cassie opened one eyelid hoping that it was just a cruel trick, but no, the sun was creeping up over the horizon. The day was going to happen whether she was ready for it or not. Her eyes fell on the black dress that she and her mother had set out the night before and a wave of panic spread through her. How had she gotten here?
It had actually begun on a day that had started a lot like this one just two years before….

On that day Cassie had stumbled to her job at the family business, still half asleep. She glanced down and straightened her black dress as she stepped in the back door to the funeral home. Howzenhofferschmidt Family Funeral Home had been in her family for three generations. It was an institution—albeit a grim one—in their robust-sized hometown. Cassie assumed her usual position at the office manager’s desk. She sighed. How long can I stay in this job? she wondered. I love my family, and even this work sometimes, but I can’t wait to get out. I think it’s time that I took steps toward my dream, she resolved. Besides, Howzenhofferschmidt would be a great opera singer’s last name. She smiled to herself.

For consolation she flipped on the office sound system, volume turned way down. The quiet opera music lilted its way to her ears. She daydreamed that she was onstage singing an aria, just as she’d dreamed since she was seven. She shut out the world as activity around her picked up. Three other family members went about their business in the office.

Fast forward two years…Cassie’s voice training at the nearby university begins to pay off. She has even made friends with some performers in her city’s opera company. March 15^th: Today was the day she would audition! Nerves and excitement intertwined and enveloped her as she panicked briefly, then rose and got ready. Although not at all glamorous, her black funeral home dress would have to do double duty as a mandatory black audition dress.

Hours later, she took a deep breath and strode confidently on stage. All of her daydreaming and hard work came down to this moment. She willed her timid dignity to make her taller than her five foot four frame.

Three judges presided behind a table perched in the first two rows of seats in the audience. She looked to them and waited. The judge on the end merely nodded slightly to her to begin. Cassie turned her head and looked at the pianist, who launched into the introduction. The time came for her entrance. Cassie took a deep breath, and…belted out something unexpected. “Hey, did you hear the one about the penguin going to the bar?” The music stopped like a train wreck. All eyes stared at her. No one surpassed her own surprise. Where in the world had that come from? Terror gripped her and twisted her face. “I--I’m so sorry—I don’t know what happened. Please let me try again,” she pleaded.

The pianist began again, this time peering curiously around the piano at Cassie. She cleared her throat and prepared to deliver the first note. Instead, out came, “Knock, knock!” Silence.

Sweat trickled down her spine. She tried again, only to blurt out a George Burns impersonation. Time after time she attempted, only to fill an agonizing three hours with impromptu opera-comedy before an unappreciative audience. What was wrong with her?

Finally, she fled the stage and escaped out the side door. Failure crushed her. Only when she landed on the safety of her own bed did she quit shaking and began weeping. Darkness fell and tucked her in for the night, tears baptizing her face.

Too quickly, dawn again found her bedroom window. She rolled over and stretched, yesterday’s horror hanging over her. Sleepy eyes again fell on her black dress, laid out neatly. Wait a minute, she thought. I fell asleep in that dress. Puzzlement crinkled her forehead.

She sat up and looked at the calendar on her humming computer screen. March 15^th. …It had all been a dream! Relief made her as light as a feather. Her audition would take place today! She chuckled at herself as she headed to the bathroom, talking to herself. “You’re a funny dame,” came her raspy, George Burns-sounding voice. Cassie gasped in surprise and stared, big eyed, at her reflection in the mirror.

This just in...

I was challenged this last weekend to write a four-line poem each day this week. Stay tuned.

Obviously, I'm behind already. I'll let you in on a secret: I have writer's block. But you watch--I'll get over it. I'm telling you this partly to keep me honest.

So, have a good afternoon (or morning, night...whenever you're reading this) and come back soon!

Just a jot

Some of you know that David and I just got back from a cruise to Alaska. Actually, it's hard to believe that as of tomorrow (Friday), it'll be two weeks since we left.

I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the experience. We saw and did so many incredible things! Rest assured that in the coming weeks you'll be thoroughly sick of hearing about the trip. You can see David's great photography on his blog here, if you didn't know about it already.

For now, I'd like to show off my handsome husband. We had one optional "formal night" during our cruise. I wanted to live in jeans the rest of the trip, but for this one night, he knew I really wanted to dress up. He was a great sport. This was taken tableside at Versailles, one of the on board restaurants. It was beautiful--it reminded me a little of the ballroom in "Beauty and the Beast." Without the talking dishes, of course.

Hello

Surprise! I bet some of you thought I'd never post again, especially right now. Well, that's the wonder of blogging technology.

Quick post: I was challenged to finish Creed's story (see the previous post). Here's how I think it went...(now told from Creed's point of view)

As I mulled over how to capture the one-armed yeti pilot, he abruptly turned on his heels and marched outside the plane. Curiosity nagged me. I started to follow him. Though my body was willing, my legs were still weak from the cramping. I dragged a limp leg behind me, but I didn't want the yeti to think that I was pretending to have a limp. Some people do that, ya know.

I tracked the yeti through the forest for several miles. The hours flew by as my curiosity propelled me onward. I then had to stop. The yeti paused at the edge of the forest, as if peering at something in the distance. I neared him and caught a glimpse of what he was watching. In the clearing sat a stately home, one of those traditional kinds you see in English movies like The English Patient. Horrible movie. Anyway, a short distance from the house was a young lady sipping from a teacup. She sat upright on her wicker furniture. Her brown, curly hair sprouted from her head like...well, brown, curly hair.

The yeti took a deep breath and strode purposefully toward the young lady. She looked up and smiled at him. It was her loving suitor. I thought to myself, "Hey, I want some tea, and she's not bad looking." So I followed the yeti. When I got there I poked him in the back. (I wouldn't recommend doing that with your everyday yeti.) He turned around and growled at me.

I challenged him to a duel of words, with the lady as the prize. She batted her eyes. The yeti hung his head, for he could only babble around his lovely lady. I sang "Supercalafragalisticexpialadocious" and won her heart instantly. The yeti trotted back to his plane in defeat. I sat down on the wicker furniture, winked at me-lady, and gulped the scalding hot tea.

The End

Weekend silliness...seriously.

Fridays are a great time to write fun posts. Try this one on for size.

I've stumbled on to a fellow aspiring writer. Those of you who watch "The Office" on Thursdays are familiar with the character of Creed. He's a harmless-looking, middle-aged character with a colorful past (and present; notice that I said he's harmless looking). Pretty sure he's lost brain cells along the way.

Anyway, this character has a (ahem) "blog" on the the show's web site. Creed is now writing his own adventure story series, like the stories he said as a boy he read in the back of comic books. Here's his blog, along with the first two installments of the story. Be sure to start with the April 3rd entry. I can't vouch for how the story will evolve in the future, but so far it's...um, creative.
Creed Thoughts

Results

I've had several people ask about the short story writing contest I entered last month.
Well, guess what!!!.....I didn't win. =) Sorry, I couldn't resist.

The West Texas Writers posted the winners list on their web site last night. Seventy stories vied for the prizes, I found out from a contest organizer. I know for a fact that other quality stories were entered that didn't place, either. Honestly, I accomplished what I wanted by having something to spur me on to write the story then put it out there for strangers' eyes.

It was my first story written since I've grown taller than about four feet, and I had so much fun doing it. (I'm even smiling as I write this!) I have a hunch I won't give up any time soon. Anyway, I wanted to let you know.

Big subject change: How is the weather in your neck of the woods? Today it is absolutely beautiful here. Upper 60s, sunny, with trees and flowers coming out to play. I love having a flexible job--I had a few minutes this morning to get out and walk the dog in our neighborhood.
Please take a few minutes this week and enjoy the outdoors wherever you are!

Legacy

Your week has started off well, I hope. I want to give you a heads up that this post may be, at first glance, not very upbeat, but my intention is that it inspires and uplifts. That being said...

I found out yesterday afternoon that a friend from a nearby town passed away. She was a wonderful woman--a family member of a former hospice patient of mine. Long after my job-related interaction with the family had ended, she and I chose to continue meeting for lunch. We shared many precious hours that way.

Her life ended suddenly in a tragic car accident outside of her city. The church sanctuary barely held the hundreds of people for her funeral service today--practically standing room only. In the midst of the tragedy and tears, it was comforting to remember the kind of person she was, and is now-- in heaven.

Her legacy is the kind of woman I aspire to be every day: kind, strong, warm, loving, Christ-centered, and real...she was honest about her struggles. The multitude present today represented only a part of the scores of people she touched through consistent, meaningful living and loving.

My mind and heart can't escape this question: So what will my legacy be? And what about yours? Heaven forbid, if we left tomorrow, what would others remember about you and me? And through Christ's strength, am I living that way now? Sure, we all fail and have days we want to do over. And again, I'm not trying to be morbid or depressing.

Those who have attended even a handful of funerals have heard this before, and no doubt we'll hear it again. It's worthwhile to me, though, to ponder all of this and renew my daily commitment to living on purpose. How about you?

Listing

I was challenged today to write an unusual type of poem: a list. The challenge was to take any type of list--"to do," places you'd like to visit, ranking of the "Police Academy" movies--whatever you'd like, and craft it into a poem. Trying something different was fun. Here's my stab at it:

Grocery List

Milk

Eggs

Bananas

Cocoa

Kabob ingredients

Stretching arm for the lady who cannot reach the top shelf

Cereal

Speed for my racecar cart (must beat my best time)

Bread

Sugar snap peas (almost finished)

Patience for the checkout line

Smiles for the sunny toddler, the checkout line ambassador (who made it my best time)

Care to play? Post yours in the comments.

The innumerable uses of poetry

Many of you know how much I like poetry. Some of you know that I have a link to a random, funny mustache blog in my blog's margin.

Now those two worlds collide blissfully. For some mindless weekend fun, click here and enjoy.

Confession

You were supposed to read this newest post and find a fun, interactive, new blog game I was going to have ready for you. That was my plan, at least. It's coming but will have to wait.

There's something else on my mind today. No, it's not as serious as it sounds! I just need to get it in writing.

And that's what it's about: writing.

I started this blog last August for fun and for a way to experiment. I didn't realize then how much it would rekindle a passion that's been re-growing for the last couple of years.

I've mentioned before that's it's been a long time since I've done much creative writing to speak of. It was always a private hobby, just for my enjoyment. Most of you who've read this blog for a while have been very encouraging of my small attempts at restarting this habit. I've written more than I've shared online-- still keeping most of it private--but lately I've been writing almost every day.

God has been speaking to me about this the last few months. He has told me that He wants me to practice, learn, and work on writing a lot more. ...And to take more risks. Why? I'm not really sure. I'm working little by little on short stories and poetry, along with articles/devotionals for submission to small Christian publications--maybe He wants to use me somehow in that way. Maybe He wants my blog readers to have better quality reading material when they visit! =) Maybe He simply wants to change me as I write, growing closer to Him as I take an extended vacation from my comfort zone. Whatever the reason, I'll be obedient.

So why is she sharing this with us? you might wonder. Well, mostly to make myself accountable. It certainly feels more real as I type this! I need to put myself out there more, getting myself good and uncomfortable. And I must admit...it's pretty exciting, scary, and peaceful, all at the same time.

If a part of this whole thing is inflicting more writing on you all-- on this blog and some of you personally-- and it's not great (I know writing is about trial and error), just remember: it was you who encouraged me! =)

Lyrics as Poetry, Part II

Ever since I posted the lyrics to "Gone" several days ago, I've been thinking some about how poetic the words to songs can be. I guess if it's a good song, it probably has decent lyrics, right? Case in point: Hanson's 90s epic anthem, "MMMBop." Soak in the profound truths of the chorus:
Mmm bop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du

Oh, I love a good chuckle to start off the week. Not to pick on Hanson too much...sometimes I need some mindless fun in my radio choices. Just not that song.

Anyway, here are the words to a song that not many people know. The melody is as hauntingly beautiful as the words, so I hope you get to hear it someday if you haven't already. The imagery, too, is mesmerizing to me. As you read the words please start of your week knowing how loved you are and how precious you are to God.

"O the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus"
Words by S. Trevor Francis/Music by Thomas J. Williams

O the deep, deep love of Jesus, vast, unmeasured, boundless, free!
Rolling as a mighty ocean in its fullness over me!
Underneath me, all around me, is the current of Thy love
Leading onward, leading homeward to Thy glorious rest above!

O the deep, deep love of Jesus, spread His praise from shore to shore!
How He loveth, ever loveth, changeth never, nevermore!
How He watches o’er His loved ones, died to call them all His own;
How for them He intercedeth, watcheth o’er them from the throne!

O the deep, deep love of Jesus, love of every love the best!
’Tis an ocean full of blessing, ’tis a haven giving rest!
O the deep, deep love of Jesus, ’tis a heaven of heavens to me;
And it lifts me up to glory, for it lifts me up to Thee!

Weekend, glorious weekend...

It's Friday! Yay... Can you tell that I'm really excited?

Not that there's anything out of the ordinary to be excited about--just an average weekend. But that in itself can be a welcome reprieve.

It got me wondering: what do you enjoy about weekends, or whenever you have a break if you don't get weekends off?

...I'd love to hear about it.

Gone

Mid February already? What happened to November...and December...and January?

Not that I'm complaining--I'm just amazed more and more how quickly time flies. Lately I've been thinking a lot about making the most of each day and squeezing every ounce out of our fleeting time--overall, making as much of a difference as we can with the talents God gives us.

Today I heard a good song: "Gone" by Switchfoot. One reason I like it is it reminds me of David's and my friend Reginald, who no longer lives in our town. When he did, though, he was a part-time DJ at a local Christian station. He found out that I like some of Switchfoot's music, so often he would play this song when he knew I would be on my way to work. Great Christian brother.

Anyway, despite the fun, upbeat sound of this song, it sneaks in some very Ecclesiastes-type thought-provoking lyrics. See if you agree, while I get back to what I should be doing right now (working!). =)

Gone
by Jonathan Foreman and Tim Foreman

She told him she'd rather fix her makeup
than try to fix what's going on
But the problem keeps on calling
even with the cell phone gone

She told him that she believes in living
bigger than she's living now
But her world keeps spinning backwards
and upside down

Don't say so long, and throw yourself wrong
Don't spin today away, 'cause today will soon be...

Gone, like yesterday is gone,
Like history is gone
Just try to prove me wrong
And pretend like you're immortal

She said he said live like no tomorrow
Every day we borrow brings us
one step closer to the edge, infinity
Where's your treasure, where's your hope
if you get the world and lose your soul?
She pretends like she pretends like she's immortal

Don't say so long, you're not that far gone
This could be your big chance to make up
Today will soon be...

Gone, like yesterday is gone
Like history is gone
The world keeps spinning on
You're going, going, gone
Like summer break is gone,
Like Saturday is gone
Just try to prove me wrong
You pretend like you're immortal.

We are not infinite
We are not permanent
Nothing is immediate
We're so confident
In our accomplishments
Look at our decadence

Gone, like Frank Sinatra, like Elvis and his mom,
Like Al Pacino's cash, nothing lasts in this life
Gone, my high school dreams are gone,
my childhood sweets are gone
Life is a day that doesn't last for long.

Life is more than money, time was never money
Time was never cash, life is still more than girls.
Life is more than hundred dollar bills and roto-tom fills,
Life is more than fame and rock and roll and thrills,
All the riches of the kings end up in wills
We've got information in the information age but do
we know what life is outside of our convenient Lexus cages?

She said he said live like no tomorrow
Every moment that we borrow brings us closer
to the God who's not short of cash
Hey Bono, I'm glad you asked
Life is still worth living,
life is more than what we are.