Have you ever?

Have you ever thought about the tradition we humans have for kissing one another on the lips?  Think about it.

Here in America, we often brush lips when we want to express emotions of a romantic nature.  We also brush lips when we say hello or good-bye, although it’s usually family or close friends that are involved in this type of kissing exchange.  Some people are exposed to more lip kissing than others.  For instance, wedding photographers see more than the average amount of lip kissing, I would guess.  Airport gate attendants probably see more lip kissing than most.  I’m guessing jewelry store salesmen and saleswomen see their fair share of lip kissing, and I’m betting pastors do too. 

I’m a hugger, myself, although I’ve been known to lip kiss.  For me, a good hug goes a long way, while kissing is brief, dispassionate (unless it’s of the romantic variety), and definitely not something I want to do with everyone I might like to hug, for whatever reason. 

Lip kissing is such an odd thing to do when you think about what is really involved.  And lips are such odd members of the body.  I’m not sure how this tradition of lip kissing was formed, but I wonder…have you ever wondered…how it is that a lip kiss means more than a handshake, but less than a wink?  Who negotiated the deal?  The whole business of lip kissing is strange, I think, when you consider what’s happening and why. 

I know non-verbal languages are pretty common place in our world.  Grunts signify disgust, annoyance, even pain.  Sighs, well, sighs can mean anything from I’m bored to I’m very unhappy with how long this is taking.  Whistles are for attention getting, both by juvenile men and damsels in distress that more than anything need to get a cab to 34th street before the rains coming crashing down.  Ticks signify anything from anxiety to anger, with a hundred subtle nuances existing between the two. 

I’ve been looking at a lot of wedding pictures lately-it’s the season, you know-and the more I observe this ritual of lip kissing, the more I’m thinking, yeah, that’s weird.  

Maybe some day we will evolve past the point of touching lips with others to express ourselves; I don’t know.  But in the meantime, I think I’ll try some finger nail flicking to communicate with those I care about.  That’s right, Bob, these long fingernails are headed your way.  Should that fail to impress, however, I’m always in the mood for a life affirming hug.  ;^)

Oh, boy

It’s Friday again, and again I’m trying to update my blog with news, young and old.  This week has been a combination of boredom and busyness, as I’ve sent a zillion emails trying to coordinate closing on the mod a little sooner.  This project is taking forever to complete.  Hopefully, once the loan process is done and our house is built and occupied, we will be able to say it was all worth it.  Hopefully!

The house that waits...

In the meantime, i have happy news to report.  Mr. J has gotten his first tooth!  Yes, you heard me right.  Our baby boy, grand baby boy, now has a sharp little protrusion on the right side of his lower front jaw that is poking it’s alabaster head out of swollen redness to make its grand appearance.  BJ says you can’t see it with the naked eye yet, but mommy can feel it.  We’re so excited.

You all know that Bob loves Elvis, right?  An homage to the King has been created at befunky.com and I wanted to share it with you here, today.  This is baby J in his jail house blues, which in reality are bright orange, according to mommy’s affinity with the color. 

Third Generation Elvis Lover

This past Saturday I was acting second shooter on a wedding with Danielle Barden of bardenphotography.com.  Danielle is an amazing photograhpher and she is getting rave reviews from the facebook photos she posted after Craig and Whitney’s nuptials were complete and the pictures uploaded to the famous site.  Below, is a barden orginal that I’m sure Dani doesn’t mind seeing on my blog.  It’s an incredible picture and just a taste of what she can do with a camera in her hands.  I have a link to bardenphotography on this site.  Check it out and contact Danielle for your next big occasion.  She available for all types of events and up for almost anything, within reason.   

I call this one PRINCE CHARMING

The next one is a Lori Hoose original.  I get lots of candids and usually a lot of shots of people’s backs, but this one was nice…

Romance in the pines

And Finally, one more shot by Danielle.  There seems to be a lot to celebrate these days.  Most assuredly, the trees, the sun shining longer each day, love in the air, springtime, family and the manifest blessings that come to us from the Creator of this place we inhabit. 

Made for taking pictures

God is good.  He’s good all the time!

It’s True!

courtesy of LIFE magazine

Baby Jessup is crawling!  We got the call last night.  I say we, because Matt and I were commuting home on route 220N when the call came in that  Jessup had officially started to crawl.  We knew the time was quick approaching.  He has been rolling around things and walking with hands attached to the couch for a few weeks now.  He’d learned how to pull himself up to a crouching position, and he was rocking back and forth, but every time he tried to move that front arm forward, down he’d go.  I told BJ, “When he does crawl, and i mean THE MOMENT when he first crawls, i want you to call me or text me THAT moment and tell me that it happened.”  BJ is used to me speaking in such desperate terms.  After all, he was raised in our home, has been acquainted with my passion for life and has on more than one occassion been embarrassed by my enthusiasm for the things that thrill me.  He knew I was serious.

So how, you ask, did it happen?  I’d be glad to share (wink, wink).

It so happens that just before the call came in on my phone, Bob had called to speak to baby Jess.  Knowing how much Jessup loves the cell phone (actually, the camera in the cell phone, I suspect–he’s a ham), daddy moved it just out of his reach, hoping he would scoot his way over to it.  Sure enough, Jessup low-crawled to the phone, slick as could be.  Lumpa (our pet name for Bob, as grandpa), was the very first to hear his delighted squeals, when Jessup crawled for the first time.  I’m so jealous!

Since I don’t have any real pictures of Jessup crawling yet, I thought I’d share this vintage photograph from Life Magazine when they hosted a baby crawling competition.  So cute!

Today, we are happy grandparents, Bob and I.  We have the handsomest grandson in the universe, it seems, and we feel totally blessed to see him growing and learning and crawling on schedule.  God is good, all the time!

something

It’s been so long since I’ve posted anything to my blog, that i thought today I should post something.  Below, are a few somethings I’ve thought to post today.

Recently, Bob and I celebrated our our 35th Wedding Anniversary.  Wow, thirty five years together. It doesn’t seem possible.  We’ve raised two wonderful sons together and have added a smart, witty and beautiful daugher-in-law to the mix, who last September gifted us with the most handsome grandson in the world.  I feel like a truly lucky woman at this stage in life and want to thank God for all of his excellent gifts to me.  He’s good all the time.

Last evening, I received a book in the mail from BJ, Megan and Jessup, The Phantom Tollbooth, by Norton Juster.  Megan said that she read the book while in school and she and BJ recently read it to one another.  Upon advancing into the story, BJ said to her, “Mom has got to read this.”  They have sent it to me for my birthday and already I’m loving it.  I’ve just left the land of the Doldrums, and look forward to the rest of my trip to Dictionopolis.  If you’ve read the book, let me know.  We can compare notes.

Last Sunday, the son of one of my close friends stood in church and gave a testimony about how God had saved him from a life of selfishness, rebellion and destruction.  At such a young age, I was astonished to hear him speaking so eloquently and with such tenderness about what Jesus had done in his life.  He’s been through a really rough patch the last few months, made some decisions that will affect him always, and regrets how badly he’s behaved, as he hurt his mother and father and caused his family to tear apart.  The fact that he has been in church nearly every week since his return home, and that he would stand and declare God’s goodness all on his own, without prompting from his mom (or even her knowledge of what he was about to do), is proof to me of God’s power to change lives, according to our prayers.  I won’t soon forget the courage “B” displayed that day.  I’m still astonished to have seen it happen. 

Today, Bob and his sister and brother-in-law, Chris, are working on the fencing in the pasture across from our house.  We have had quite a time keeping the animals in lately, and because of the same, sold our draft horse, Molly, and our goats, Lynus, and the kids, last week.  We still have Rosie and Mercedes at the house, but continue to have problems keeping them secured in the fencing we have, which is totally not up to the beating they give it.  Today, Bob will has help getting the single strand fencing  and posts up, and he’ll try the solar powered fence charger for the first time.  I’m hoping this will discourage the nightly adventures of our horse and donkey, especially since we live in fear that they will be hit by a passing car while standing in the middle of the road on a foggy night.  Animals:  They can be a handful, and these are no exception.  We’ll be glad to have the assurance that they won’t wander to the neighbors.  Good fences make good neighbors, they say.  I’m pretty sure our neighbors would agree.

That about does it for my update today.  I’m feeling better about having gotten something down on this page today.  I’ll end my post with a picture of the handsomest grandbaby in the world.  His name is Jessup Hoose, and I hope you will agree, he’s a charmer AND a keeper!

Mr. Blue Eyes

patience

Be Patient! 

 

Have you ever wondered if some parts of Scripture were written with the express purpose of stimulating an eye-roll in others?  I do.  Drive up windows at fast food restaurants and ATMs throughout the mall have fostered a generation of impatient people.  Twitter, Face book, text messaging and cell phones have all made it possible for us to reach others around the globe in a matter of seconds, so that these days patience has become passé.  We do not like to practice patience, nor do we want to hear about it, which makes one wonder how we twenty-first century Christians could possibly find anything of value in the statements made in James’ epistle to the church. 

“Therefore be patient, brethren, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious produce of the soil, being patient about it, until it gets the early and late rains. You too be patient; strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near. Do not complain, brethren, against one another, so that you yourselves may not be judged; behold, the Judge is standing right at the door. As an example, brethren, of suffering and patience, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord.”                                                                               James 5:7-10 NAS

 

 “Be patient…,” James writes, inferring that we are to exhibit a patient endurance that waits through every moment, day after day, year after year until Jesus returns.  Statements like that make me wonder:  Who can possess such patience, and how would I have to change, in order to possess it for myself?

 

The great thing about God’s Word is that it not only asks the questions, but also provides solid answers.  In James’ epistle we glean several valuable tips for adopting a patient lifestyle. 

 

1. Remember the Farmer:  Farmers turn over the soil, fertilize their fields, purchase seeds and place them in the ground.  After that, they wait, patiently.  We know their waiting is patient, because they neither venture back to turn the dirt once more, nor do they pick seeds back out of the ground.  To do so would be disastrous.  Instead, the farmer waits.

 

1.  Practice Delayed Gratification:  How sweet is the cherry you pop into your mouth right off the limb, fresh from the orchard?  Compare it to the cherry you pop out of the freezer in the dead of winter, where no blossom is evident and no warm breeze blows.  Incomparably sweeter, is the later.  Wait for the sweetness.

 

1. Develop a Strong Heart:  James is not suggesting calisthenics here.  Rather, the very real truth that those who bank their blessings during the good times reap a harvest during the lean times.  Read good books, write a poem, compose a song or lead a Bible study; do things that increase your joy, bank that feeling down deep in your soul, and when the scorching winds of suffering blow, you’ll have a rich cache of joy.  Wait for the joy.

 

1. Stop Bickering and Complaining:  Like worry, complaining never helps. Better to wait on God’s will and his Word.  “In everything you do, stay away from complaining and arguing, so that no one can speak a word of blame against you.”  Philippians 2:14 

Been a while…

I’m sure it’s happened to you.  You’ve gotten distracted, lost focus, become preoccupied or other wise pulled away until before you know it months have gone by since you last did that thing you love to do.  Me too!  I love to write.  I write to record my observations about life, love, joy, sorrow, gain, loss, temptation and contentment.  Problem is there’s never enough time to both do what I write about and write about what I do.  Today, I have the time and it feels good to be writing once again.

Writing isn’t just a past time for me.  It’s my life, my breath.  Writing is how I “deal”–the best way I know to sift through my feelings and communicate them to others in a reasonable and sane manner.  It is, quiet literally, the way I process my world.  I write.  Sometimes the things I write are letters to other people (mostly in the form of emails these days, I must confess), but sometimes I write poems, skits, novellas, promotional pieces and grocery lists.  Today, I’ve written letters to my contractors. 

Writing a letter to one’s contractor and asking him to do something for you that he doesn’t want to do is the worst.  I hate being pushy, and since most of the time I view my own critiques and comments as a passive form of pushiness, I’m uncomfortable with what I’ve had to do today.  I hate being manipulated or having the feeling that I might be the victim of either outright or subtle manipulations.  Because I hate manipulating, I try never to manipulate others.  I think it’s in bad taste to do otherwise.  Still, I value a good argument and the more persuasive a person can be, the more I respect them for possessing that quality.  I lack diplomacy on many occasions, so when I see a persuasive diplomat in action, I’m mesmerized.

I’ve got to say that I write better than I speak.  I also enjoy writing much more than communicating with others in person.  Part of the reason for that is that in writing, I can hit the backspace as many times as I want, correcting and editing at will, making sure every word is exactly what I intend it to be before it leaves my desktop.  Some people might call that controlling.  I prefer to see it as diligent and professional.   

Another reason why I enjoy writing more than communicating with others in person is that in writing, I have the time I need to create an affective argument without interruption.  I hate being interrupted while trying to make a point, but the world is full of interrupters who sometimes double as gesticulators.  Do you know one?  These are those who flail their hands left and right, up and down, side to side as they talk and talk and talk, and talk.  I write.  Controlling?  Some might say so.  Again, I see it as discipline on my part, and perhaps the indulgence of a gift I rarely get to enjoy face-to-face with another gesticulating, hand-flailing person. 

Finally, I enjoy writing more than communicating with others in person because writing is an art I get to practice alone.  Call me a hermit if you want, but I like my alone time.  Working full-time and being a mom and wife full-time, I rarely get alone time.  You women out there know what I mean.  And since I suspect the vast majority of those I communicate with are spending more time crafting their reply to me, than actively listening to what I’m saying in the first place, writing seems the way to go. 

The only complication I can see with the reasoning I’ve given for enjoying writing over communicating with others in person is that when I am writing, no one can stop me.  I’m alone, after all, so if I prefer, i can go on and on and on, and on.  Not good!  My younger son tells me briefer-is-better, and my pastor says I’m verbose.  They’re probably both right, but I write.  It’s what I do.  Whether I do it well or not is irrelevant–to me, anyway.   I write because it makes me feel good.  When I’m writing, I feel useful, directed, comforted, smart, informed and purposeful.  When you read this, you might feel differently.  If so, maybe you should explore getting your own website and trying out this writing thing.  You’ll see, it’s fun!

if you have something you do that you love, write me about it.  Oh, did i forget to mention it? I also read.

Anna’s Poem

This week I opened an email to find the following poem, written by Anna Grace Roche.  Anna is the daughter of my neice, Leslie Wilcox Roche.  As a young poet, I thought it would be fun to give Anna some exposure for her writing.  I think the poem is great!  I’ve also included here a picture of Anna and her brother, Seth, at Disney World.  

The House That Has Books
By:  Anna Grace Roche
April 16, 2009
This house has lots of books
It’s very fun to look at them
It’s very quiet
For me to look at books
Books upstairs
   Books downstairs
       Books in my bedroom
           Books in the schoolroom
The pictures I like to look at most
Some I like
Some I don’t
Books are just really fun for me
I love my house so much
It seems like the house of books

 

Anna & Seth at Disney World

In Hope Believing…

Against all hope, Lori in hope believed and so became the owner of a new house, just as she had dreamed.  Without weakening in her faith, she faced the fact that her body was as good as dead—since she was about 52 years old—and that Bob was also old.    Yet she did not waver through unbelief regarding her dream before God, but was strengthened in her faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what she had asked. 

 

I’ve heard it said that we need to pray God’s word back to Him, and that through this he is honored.  What you’ve just read is my prayer back to God, loosely paraphrased from Romans 4:18-21.  It has nothing to do with God’s promise to me (for He has made no promises regarding my  housing situation).  It also has no connection to Abraham’s promise from His Lord.  It does, however, have everything to do with my heartfelt conviction that God is bigger than any of my dreams and that to place my faith in him for the big things is my life is the BEST decision I could ever make!

 

What are you hoping for today? 

Faith in uncertain times

My coworker came to me today with the news that two people in our small business are getting laid off this week.  She’s worried, for obvious reasons.  Things don’t look good for many businesses right now, save those that are predicated on health care.  People will always get sick, and they will oft times break bones and fight off diseases and run fevers.  Those who are entering the medical field this year can be relatively sure they will be employed goin into the future.  For the rest of us, only God knows what tomorrow holds. 

Only God knows if the recession we are in will turn to a depression.  Only God knows if the stock market will crash, the labor market will bottom out, or the supermarket I shop will close their doors forever.  Only God knows, so who should we trust?

The writer of Hebrews 11:1 says,”Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen.”  My question then is, “What are you hoping for today?”  For me, it’s a new house that doesn’t stink of mold, doesn’t have frayed carpeting, and doesn’t act like it’s going to roll down through the pasture when the next strong wind blows. 

I’m not kidding about that last one; some nights I truly wonder if we will still be upright and in place at morning’s first light.

Thinking about what faith really is, it seems to me that it is the essence of all we hope for and the evidence that is left behind, as we try to live out our dreams in a practical way each day.  That evidence, that trail I leave behind, might be represented by lipstick stains on the forehead of my new grandson, when I bend to kiss Jessup goodnight.  My hope for him is that he will grow to be a strong man, responsible, loving, wise and godly.  The kiss is to help him achieve that goal and to let him know that no matter what, grammie is here.  That kiss given becomes the very real evidence of things unseen that I have just deposited in his love bank:  Understanding, compassion, affection, encouragement, belief that he will be who I hope him to be, and that in being that man, he will bless the world.

As I write this post, I am reminded of the poem, “Footprints”.  The impressions left behind in the sand tell the story of a Savior who is so invested in the object of his affection that he carries his beloved through the most hurtful and harmful moments of life.  Have you been there?  Has He held you in like fashion?  If I were to look at you with spiritual eyes, would I see his fingerprints all over your life? 

Faith is the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things unseen.  Have a little faith today.  Leave a little evidence behind.  Pay attention to your dreams and may your prayers be filled with hopeful grace.

An Easter Attitude

As I’m writing this entry, it’s Good Friday.  The sun is shining outside and the day holds a promise that makes my heart sing.  Only a few more days and Easter will arrive.  Easter, with the valiant story of our Lord’s sacrifice; Easter, with lilies and daffodils and peanut butter eggs and baskets and grass; Easter, with crosses and victory songs and time spent with family.  I love Easter!

This year, as Easter breaks on the pink and purple, orange-tinged horizons all over this great land, I have to say that I’m grateful to be living in a country where I’m free to embrace the Christian traditions that make Easter a very special holiday.  I’m grateful that I live in a place where democracy still rules.  I’m grateful for free enterprise, free markets, a chance to “live the dream”, and an opportunity to speak my mind about the heartfelt convictions I hold, without the threat of bodily harm, sanctions by the government or the loss of my job.  Thank God for America. 

Thank God it’s Easter!