as yet, untitled

It was pointed out to me, by some very devoted blog followers of mine that I have been a slacker in the blog department. I have indeed. I could go on for many sentences and give this excuse or another -- or I could just leave it at "I've been uninspired". Technically, that's not the case, but sometimes it's best if I process BEFORE I purge. Believe me, you don't wanna read these things before I've had a chance to mull it over in my mind for several hours, minutes, days, weeks -- however long it takes.

As the holidays roll around once again, I'm reminded that life isn't all roses and rainbows. There's a fair share of dysfunction that comes with this time of year. And anyone who tells you their family is a "pure joy to be around" is lying to you. Families are full of flawed, imperfect, sometimes emotionally and physically draining people. People not unlike myself. I tend to be stubborn. I tend to "dread" this time of year. I tend to cry a lot -- and laugh even more. Newsflash: I am not perfect, and I don't claim to be. Although there are a few things I'm quite good at. I can sing a little tune. I am apparently very good at chemistry (who knew?) and I can clean mirrors with the best of them. That's the short list.

So as we embark upon this season of thanks giving, I am reminded that there are a lot of people in this world a lot worse off than me. At least my sense of humor is intact, if not somewhat cynical in nature. I do love to laugh, and I have a lot of people in my life who help me with that daily. I also have a family full of people who actually enjoy cooking. I like to bake. I love to cook, but being a full-time student with homework (what WAS I thinking????) has taken its toll on our family's dinner planning schedule. Luckily, there are 4 of us, and all of us like to cook so we spread the love around and everyone is happy.

I have a laundry god (but don't let that get around). I have two wacky dogs who greet me at the gate each time I pull in the driveway (sometimes on the right side of the fence, other times at the car door). I have a husband who thinks I hung the moon (we don't have to tell him otherwise) and two daughters who while at times can be "typical teenagers" -- they also have a wit that can match any other on this planet. We laugh a lot! I have great friends, who build me up -- even on the days when I'm tearing myself down. Those days tend to be the days I don't feel smart enough or pretty enough, or...

I guess all that is to say, no one is perfect. No life is perfect. Least of all mine. But I'm okay with my imperfection. It fits me like a glove, and I am well-suited to the way it feels. That doesn't mean that I can't be constantly striving for a greater sense of me -- but I've lived with me for 37 years. Some of those years rocked, and others fizzled. I am beautiful, funny, smart -- the right amount of talented to make me always want to be better. I'm a great friend, an even better listener, and if I'm on your side -- you will always take the seat in front of me. I'm a Scorpio -- and everything that goes with that. And I'm very thankful that there isn't another me in this world. Not only would that be emotionally draining for the folks who know me, but likely there would be competition.

So in the coming days, I challenge you -- tell the people in your life how important they are to you. You might think they already know (and they just might) but take the time to say it anyway. You might not ever have a second chance at making someone's day. And those people that you struggle with, and we all have those people in our lives, don't waste your time and energy trying to get even -- let it go and learn to love. Learn to forgive. Learn to be your best self. Trust me, it's contagious. ~sheri

When it rains, it pours...

So, I'm not gonna lie, this day ranks right up there -- and that isn't a good thing. It started out as a decent day and then went downhill fast. Now there wasn't one "incident" that led this day to the far reaching under land -- it was just that several things hit at one time. And it's been a LONG time since I've had a day like today, a really LONG time.

So as I'm sitting at work, listening to the rain beat down on the roof -- the building is empty except for 3 other people, I find myself looking for the "lesson" in the rain -- both metaphorically and literally. Those of you who live in Arkansas, know that this has been the year for record rainfall in these parts. It has rained quite literally 23 days in October -- and this ain't Seattle.

So I'm thinking maybe it's a lesson in patience -- and then I remember Job and I don't want to go down that road, so it must be some other lesson. Perseverance maybe, or a lesson in being thankful for what's right in front of you. Or maybe it's a lesson that hasn't yet been revealed to me -- and I'm just supposed to allow the storm to carry me where it will, turbulent waters and all.

I'm not sure what is in store for me, but this isn't the worst day of my life -- I've endured far worse than a little "rain" -- so I'm going to put on my life jacket and hang on for dear life -- and someday I will look back on today and it will have just been a small blemish that I made into a much bigger deal than it really was. I'd say "bring on the rain" but quite frankly this girl needs sunshine. Then it occurs to me, without the rain, sunshine wouldn't be appreciated nearly as much. Hmmm, maybe that's my lesson...

sheri

what a weekend...

I'm not gonna lie, today was a killer day. It wasn't killer in the sense of "I worked hard" or anything of that nature. It was emotionally draining. I drove to Mtn. Home yesterday for what was supposed to be a fun weekend "reunion" of sorts with old high school friends (and it was to a very limited extent) but in the process of looking forward to spending time catching up and telling stories and laughing a lot (because that's what we all do when we're together) life happened. My best friend from college lost her momma, so my fun weekend turned into a "support your friend when she needs you the most" weekend.

I guess I didn't take into account that I might somehow be affected in some way other than being sad because momma Jo died and my friend was grieving a huge loss in her life. I mentally "prepared" myself by listening to happy music for the entire drive up. I even wore a dress that kinda makes me happy. And I made it through visitation just fine -- of course, so did she. But today was another beast all together. I fully expected there to be tears, and lots of them. I've been there and there's no way to describe what a girl goes through when your momma dies. But the part I forgot, was how a daddy reacts to the death of his wife. It came out of left field and caught me completely by surprise. And then the flood gates opened.

And not only was I totally unprepared for the magnitude of water pouring from my eyes, I found myself sitting at a funeral without a single tissue in sight. I guess I underestimated my reaction in more ways than one. I was a brownie for all of five minutes and I did learn to "be prepared" -- but today I was unprepared to the nth degree. Note to self: tissue packs for the car and purse are necessary at all times, just in case you need them...

In addition to all of that, I was also sitting by myself -- mind you, I was surrounded by other people, but none that I knew personally. And then at the end of the service, the "ticker tape parade" started. Now I'm not trying to sound cold or callous. I know that different traditions are in place for different families -- some are in place in my own family. But the "walk past the casket in a single file line" part of funerals is not my favorite. First off, the person is no longer present in the room. Secondly, as someone who's been down that road a few times, it's torture to watch other people's reactions to that part of the service. And so for a moment I debated. Do I sneak out the back or fall in line and do what's expected? I did the latter. And when I had walked past (with only a slight glance), tears in my eyes -- I looked at my friend and she mouthed "I love you" and I knew that it was all worth it.

I found myself playing over and over in my head things that I might say to Nikki and her sisters to help them get through this tough time. And then I reminded myself that words won't fix the hurt in their hearts, and they likely won't remember the words of this day past this week. So I put my words on the back burner and was just their friend -- who came to support them on a tough day. I ate lunch with their family. We went back to her dad's house (myself and former classmates/neighbors) and we laughed -- a lot. Mind you, there were only two people that I was actually close to in high school and I wasn't the former neighbor who grew up next door and caused all kinds of trouble. I was the college roommate, former sister-in-law, bridesmaid, and friend who was there to share in the laughter -- and the tears.

I know what her journey will look like -- kinda. But it's her journey, not mine. We share the loss of a mother, but not the moments that led up to that loss. As her friend, I can be an ear when she needs one and a shoulder to cry on. I can be the friend that just listens when she needs to scream and yell (and there will be many days where she wants to scream and yell). The friend she confides in when she thinks it's too heavy a burden to lay on her sisters who are grieving in their own way. And I can offer her encouragement when she gets frustrated by the fact that her daddy's journey of grief won't make sense to her or her sisters. Those will be the things that mean the most to her when she finds herself a little more distanced from the magnitude of grief she feels at this moment. I won't lie, you are forever changed when your momma dies, but if you're fortunate enough to have family and friends that help hold you together on the days when you can't do it for yourself -- you come out a little stronger on the other side. ~sheri

Words

Something I know about myself -- I like words. I like to use words. I try really hard to use my words to build others up, but I think that goes back to the "treat others as you would like to be treated" lesson I learned from my momma. I also like to use my words in this setting. This blog is actually like my diary (only I don't bore you with all the details of my life.) Trust me, you don't have that kind of time and since I have never been one to journal daily, neither do I.

And there are times when I wish the inspiration would hit when it's convenient, like when I'm actually sitting in front of the computer. That rarely happens. Take that back, it NEVER happens. I usually get the inspiration to blog over the course of several days. Usually it's a build-up of several days worth of conversations. An idea hits, I let it "churn" for a few days and then I have this intense need to get to the computer and purge so I don't forget some nugget or morsel that I really need to hear. That's right, that I need to hear. I said this was a diary. While I'm opening myself up to you, the reader, this blog isn't really about you. It's about me. It's about lessons I've learned, or lessons that I need to remind myself of daily. While most of those lessons are applicable to others, I don't usually write for "them". I write for me. It's my way to release tension and relieve stress -- to de-clutter my mind so that I can move on to the next thing that needs my attention.

Those who follow this blog, know that I'm in nursing school. And one of the classes that my particular school requires is a class called Spiritual Perspectives for Healthcare Professionals. It is without a doubt my least favorite class. UGH! (Did I mention it's also at 8 am?) The idea of approaching healthcare from a spiritual perspective isn't where the problem lies. It's the professor. I find him to be a bit callous in his approach to teaching. He's funny. He gets LOTS of laughs -- I'm usually not one of the folks laughing. Now, I appreciate humor. I get comments about my laugh all the time, it's huge and easily recognizable. But when you're talking about serious issues, it's easy to downplay them for the sake of comedic relief.

Maybe it's my personal experiences that lead me to this conclusion. I will never find talking about death or dying -- or the process one goes through in getting there -- to be a "funny" topic. Today, he casually mentioned having to "counsel" a patient who has stage IV Pancreatic Cancer. He made light of the fact that this person "hasn't connected the dots". He even got chuckles from the class. Maybe it's just me, but I was offended for that person. I am sure he is better at his job and dealing with each particular situation than he is about giving specific examples to his students. However, the entire time he was talking, I kept thinking -- that person is someone's mother/father/sister/brother/child/friend. Perhaps I should offer a disclaimer -- death and dying are something I have had considerable experience with. I know it's a part of life. I know that at some point in time, everyone will deal with it. But in my short 36 years on this planet, I've dealt with more than my fair share. I think that makes me much more sensitive to other people's feelings about it. Perhaps it will even make me a better nurse.

Now, I'm not naive enough to think that my sometimes overly emotional nature isn't going to come back to kick me in the pants at some point in time. And what I ultimately want to do with nursing will likely have more than it's fair share of tears. My nature is to connect with people. While I may not have a lot of close relationships, I tend to connect emotionally -- at least on some level -- with others. I know that about myself. My hope is that I don't ever become so accustomed to "doing my job" that I forget why I wanted to be a nurse in the first place. I hope I'm never one of those people who does it to "make a paycheck" but that first, and foremost, I remember that each person I encounter in my job is someone's parent/child/spouse.

precious jewels

So, it's obviously late -- and since I have class in the am, I SHOULD be in bed. But life happens when you least expect it, and tonight it is happening all over the place. I think it's in the late hours of the night (or wee hours of the morning) that I find my mind most restless. I'm not exactly sure about why that happens, other than it's the only time I'm really still -- and quiet. I spend most of my weekends of late doing homework -- trying to fit in studying wherever I can during the week. I have time between my classes at school, so I use that time, as well. Tonight however, I have been somewhat distracted all evening. And it isn't just a random thought or getting off task for a bit, it's big "I really need to think about this" kind of distractions.

I'm really not trying to talk in code, although I do a pretty good job of that at times. I found out about a week ago that my bestie (you know the type -- you go for months or weeks not talking to each other except an occasional post to facebook but you're there for each other when it counts the most) is really having a hard time. I have really struggled with how to reach out to her. We were college roommates -- and unlikely friends who happened to need someone to share the rent with. We cried over boys together. We laughed a lot. She was maid of honor in my wedding. She married my brother (later to have her heart trampled by him). She was there for the birth of my oldest daughter. We lost touch for several years, and always seem to reconnect over some tragedy. I called her personally to tell her about my brother's death (and later to tell her about my momma). We have literally cried more than we've laughed in our recent moments together. We always say "let's keep in touch -- let's do better" and yet tragedy is what seems to bring us together.

So, I'm talking to her tonight on Facebook chat. She was on, I was up -- we both needed each other, I suspect. And the months that we haven't spoken just kinda melted away. She's having a hard time, it's a subject on which I can relate. I express my desire to be closer to her when she needs me -- she reassures me that I would be there if I could (and I am when it matters most) and then it hits me. Real friends are a dime a dozen. So then, with tears streaming down my face I do an inventory of my really close friends. I suspect I'm luckier than most.

I can remember a time not too terribly long ago (therapy comes to mind) when I was given the assignment of doing an inventory very similar to this. I was in the middle of a rough time. One relationship was strained, to say the least, and I was actually having a pity party because I could only count 6 close relationships (excluding my spouse). I think I read somewhere that a person is only capable of maintaining 6 close relationships at a time. And as far as total relationships you can have at one time, it maxes out around 30. I know a few people who would be hard pressed to come up with a handful.

So I count myself lucky. I have several friends that it doesn't matter how many miles separate us, we still manage to pick up right where we left off. And we have a lot of fun together. I have some friends that I know I can talk to about anything that's going on with me -- good, bad and ugly -- and their love for me isn't going to waiver. And I have a couple that are precious jewels. Not only do they love you no matter what -- BUT they also tell you you're beautiful when you have mascara smeared down your face and your eyes are puffy from crying. And they are willing to cry with you if necessary (and it's almost always necessary) and they don't really mind because they know you would do the same thing in that situation.

So, friend -- my thoughts are with you. I understand, and I know exactly what you're going through. I am in my car and headed to your house, just say the word. We will undoubtedly cry together, and laugh in between -- and I will tell you "you're beautiful" even when your eyes are puffy and you have mascara smeared down your face. You don't have to be strong for everyone else. (I know how hard it is to see your daddy breakdown.) It's okay to fall apart -- your real friends will be there to pick you up and put you back together. While the "together" may never be the same, you will come out on the other side. And someday, late at night, you too will do an inventory of your relationships. You will realize that you are one lucky girl, with really great friends -- who would do it all over again, as many times as necessary.

The Pursuit of Happyness

Yes, it's spelled incorrectly. Yes, I should be doing homework or studying for a test. One thing I have learned is that this blog pretty much "writes itself" -- and if I just let it happen naturally, then it usually pays off. And since someday I am going to write a book, I am guessing this is good practice. So homework will have to wait until this inspiration passes, otherwise my mind will be writing a blog instead of studying medical terminology.

It's spelled incorrectly because it has to do with the movie starring Will Smith and his son, Jaden. We watched it the one evening this week we weren't working on the new building. Can I just start by saying it was a really great movie? (I guess so, since I just did.) There is a fantastic scene in the movie where "Chris Gardner and his son" are playing basketball on a rooftop court. His son mentions wanting to be a basketball star and "Chris" basically in a nutshell says, "it doesn't pay, find a trade you can depend on to support you". Obviously, I'm paraphrasing, but that's the gist of it. And we see a very disappointed little boy. The very next statement to his son is "don't ever let anyone tell you you can't do something -- not even me." Now that'll preach...

So this got me to thinking. In the past 9 months, we've had a lot of people say they were praying for us -- or they were supportive of this new ministry we've fought hard to keep alive. We've had folks get on board and get excited. We've had folks step back for one reason or another. We've had folks tell us "that will never work". And yet, here we are. We ARE a new church start in the ARUMC. We DO have a building with great potential to do ministry. We DO have the support of friends and comrades who are as excited (if not more, at times) than we are about the possibilities that lie before us. And we also have those little voices out there who might not be willing to say to our face "that will never work". Dream stealers are lurking everywhere.

Now, I want to add a disclaimer -- I don't think people are intentionally out to "steal the dreams of others". I think they have our very best intentions at heart. But I also think that at some point in their life, someone told then "you can't do that" or "that won't work". And likely, that someone was a very important person in their life. Perhaps a parent, sibling, close friend or even spouse. They weren't out to steal the dream, they just didn't want their loved one to have to deal with a possible failure. Notice I said a "possible" failure. 50/50. It might work, it might not -- but the destination isn't the most important thing. The journey to get to the destination is where the fun lies.

So then, I started thinking about baseball. Because my team is 4 games from clinching the NL Central. And because, I happen to have had the opportunity to watch a number of games up close and personal in the past several years. All the STL fans in my life younger than 8 adore Albert Pujols. (And some older than 8, as well.) And I started thinking about the way he hits the ball. He can send it sailing with the right amount of determination and drive -- and the perfect connection between bat and ball. Or he can go back to the dugout having just struck out. I'm just guessing, but I bet there are a lot of strikes to go with all his homeruns. If you know anything about his life story, he didn't necessarily have an easy life. His dad was an alcoholic and there were many times in his life, when a much younger Albert (like 12 years young) would have to carry his dad home after a night of binge drinking. Talk about a workout. But he loved baseball, and he was good at it. Today, he isn't the fastest player on the field, but what he lacks in speed, he makes up for in sheer determination and hard work. The man is work horse!

So with this movie and baseball running through my head, I landed on 1 Corinthians 13 -- the love passage. Hmmmm??? What if love really is patient and kind? Does that mean that people who aren't patient and kind are incapable of love? Churning in the back of my mind are all these images of hard work and determination and will -- to dream, to achieve, to succeed. And standing right next to all those possibilities is the opportunity to have those dreams squashed. Or even worse, to never take the chance for fear of failure. So I came to a realization. All of the characteristics of love in that passage -- patience, kindness, does not boast... those are the dreams. And all the things that loves isn't or shouldn't be -- those are the dream stealers. And in order for the dream to live on and be recognized -- means taking a chance that maybe just maybe there IS something better out there. It involves not letting the voices of the dream stealers get into your head and take over your thoughts. It involves taking a stance and saying, "I believe in this -- now, are you with me?" And it's okay, if they aren't.

In my life, I've made many mistakes. But each mistake was an opportunity to learn more about me. And each success was sweeter because I did something I set out to do. This new faith community is no different. We will get tired of working late nights and weekends -- sometimes with just a few hands, and sometimes with a lot of hands. We will see folks step up their support and we will see folks step back to regroup. It's part of the process -- but we will not listen to those who say we won't succeed. We've already overcome so much. Each success sweeter than the last. And really, if our focus is where it should be -- the strength to carry on to the next task will be there. We might be physically tired, but imagine the payoff in the end when we open the doors to our community and the hard work, and sweat, and sheer determination made it all possible.

So the question I pose is this, "I believe in this -- are you with me?" It's really okay if you aren't -- I've made it this far, and I have faith that I will reach my destination. But the journey -- that's where my heart sings. sheri

Rain, Rain -- part 2

Yeah, I'm official "over" the rain. It's been all cats and dogs all the time for the better part of 3 days and can I just say it's a little bit old? (oh, wait, I just did...) We are still building a church -- still trying to get our building ready for an "in the raw" party on Friday, where hopefully we will begin the process of raising money for said ministry. And in spite of the sheer magnitude of the job before us, we're still pinching ourselves. Take that back, I'm still pinching myself. Jamey is stuck in bed with flu-like symptoms and feeling pretty much icky. I'm holding out hope that all the drugs we pumped into him tonight will work their magic while he sleeps and he'll feel like a new man tomorrow. I, on the other hand, am still wide awake (thanks to a non-school, non-workday, mid afternoon nap) and my options were study medical terminology or blog. I think my choice was obvious.

So the house is quiet, and in the midst of all the noise that goes with that (my mind is quite literally racing from one item on my ever-growing "to do" list to another equally important item on said list) I find myself thinking about possibilities. I'm not gonna lie, back in February I was so pumped about the idea of this position we find ourselves in, but I didn't honestly allow myself to think that it might some day be reality. Partly due to the fact that while I play the "glass half full" girl -- I really see it as a glass with some amount of liquid close to the halfway mark. It is what it is, nothing more. No wait, that's my alter ego talking. I am a "glass half full" girl most of the time -- when I actually have time to think about the stinkin' glass to begin with. But I will say, I never thought this day would actually come.

Just over 13 days ago, this whirlwind began. Jamey actually looked at me today and said, "what's the date?" to which I replied, "September 15". After that slightly comical exchange, we both said at the same time, "what happened to September, it's half gone." Uh huh. Glasses half empty, months half gone -- and we're 15 days closer to a new church launch (date to be announced soon, I promise.) So what goes into getting ready for such an event you ask -- imagine about 30 busy little bees working night and day to build honeycomb. That pretty much sums it up, in a nutshell.

A/V peeps are figuring out how to wire our building for worship (and apparently Monday night football after worship). Communication peeps are busy designing printed materials and pricing advertising so we can spread the word efficiently and on a shoe string. (I know, she has a deadline and it's fast approaching and I have information she needs. I promise you'll have it tomorrow, Ali.) Designers are picking paint colors and ordering fixtures. Financial minds are trying to come up with ways to pinch pennies and still have a fabulous building. The contractor is trying to come up with a plan of attack that 30ish hard workers will help him carry out. And while all of that is going on, those same people are giving up their time with family and friends (and sometimes eating dinner at a reasonable hour) so that they can put on work gloves and haul trash or sweep or empty trash or swing a hammer. Can I just say, WOW!

Last night we held our first official event in our new space -- a dedication of the building and a dry-run for the praise team in what we assumed would be an acoustical nightmare. Think industrial 1930's building with concrete floors, brick walls (thanks to the removal of 1970's paneling) and beat board ceilings. I envisioned sound bouncing everywhere. It didn't. It does pose some challenges but not nearly like I anticipated. We had 45 folks in attendance -- and several of our launch team were out of town on business or tied up with family obligations. And throughout every single walk-through or conversation one statement was uttered over and over, "Let me know how I can help". Did I say WOW?

So since I know several of you couldn't make it to that first event (but you were there in spirit with us) I'm going to share a few of my highlights. I'd say it's a top 10 list, but I'm not sure there are ten items on the list, but here goes...

1) A six year old with a vested interest b/c "I helped tear down that wall right there".

2) That same six year old never able to quite get enough hugs and kisses from yours truly -- she's my #1 fan and tells me so regularly. (I'm hers, too.)

3) A two year old who thinks your so cool when you lead worship, that she wants you to hold her so she can help you hold the mic.

4) A team of folks who arrive early just to make sure everything is just so before "company" arrives.

5) Blankets on the floor and folks coming in carrying their lawn chairs -- just because they didn't want to miss the fun.

6) Emails and texts from friends who couldn't make it, but really wanted you to know they were sad to miss it -- and you know they meant it.

7) Watching a member of your team walk her husband through the building and point out where the walls will be and reminding him to "watch out, there's a wall there".

8) Walking someone through the building and having them say "wow, this place has potential". (We already knew that...)

9) Teenagers lined up outside, talking and laughing.

10) Having a baby "talk" while you're blessing the building as if to say, "wait, I have something to say, too..."

I'm sure there will be more things that amaze me as this journey unfolds. And I'm sure that there will be days when I will no longer need to pinch myself to make sure it's real. And apparently, it was a top 10 list. I'm sure it won't get as many laughs as Letterman, but the voices in my head approve. Now off to bed, tomorrow's a school day -- and a work day -- and a "we've got to work on the building to get it ready for Friday" day. Until next time...sheri

Rain, Rain...

So this past two weeks has been a whirlwind. Fast Forward Version: Jamey celebrated his final day as youth minister at Trinity UMC (or any church for that matter) and we began our transition into a a new church start. Let me start by saying -- this was an 18 month process that at times resembled being secluded in the desert and eating locusts or something like that. It's hard to know where to even begin, since I obviously haven't done this in a while. (Perhaps you noticed the large gap in time with zero blogging.) So I'm going to give you a synopsis -- grab a drink (and possibly your next meal) and hang on for the ride.

Rewind to August 2007 -- we decided to start an "alternative" worship service at the church that paid us to be cool and work hard. This endeavor began with 9 people and a 12 week study on worship. From there we began to expand our little group and talk about what that worship offering might look like. How it might reach our "target demographic" and really make a difference from the typical "non-traditional" offering down the street. We continued to meet weekly and began to be intentional about prayer, and more specifically praying for each other as we all stepped outside our comfort zones and really tried hard to make a difference in the lives of those we met.

Can I just say, we fell in love. Not in a boyfriend/girlfriend sort of way -- but in a "holy crap there are a lot of people who need to see an outward and visible sign that God is indeed alive and well and working in the hearts of average joes/jills like ourselves" kinda way. And that, my friends is the start of what so far has taken on the role as roller coaster ride of a lifetime.

Fast Forward to this week -- (an excerpt from a family email that went out)
"While the official word has yet to be handed down from on high (aka the bishop and cabinet) we passed a major hurdle today. Jamey and I had to take part in an almost three hour interview with the Arkansas Conference Committee on New Church Starts (say that three times really fast...)

I will not bore you with the details of said meeting and just tell you that at 4:45 pm (we left at 3:45), Rose at the conference office sent us the "synopsis" of our meeting time, along with that committees recommendation. Basically the report tells our strengths in ministry, our obstacles/challenges and the committees recommendation to the cabinet (did I mention the cabinet is meeting tomorrow?) The very last line of the report read "This committee feels that Jamey Bentley is prepared to be appointed as a new church start pastor." One committee down, one to go. All this is to say, that the cabinet convenes at 9:30 am on Wednesday. We could feasibly have an answer by 5 pm. If we get that answer it clears up a lot of questions for us and for canvascommunity.

Basically, we have a building (which we started working on this weekend) -- we have a dedicated team of really hard workers, some money to work on said building (and several thousands more to raise), the support of the DS and the Conference New Church Start peeps, all we need is one phone call saying, "we'd like to appoint you to serve as the pastor of canvascommunity, a new church start in Little Rock.

So, if anyone wants to come to Arkansas (or Little Rock, if you're already here) and get dirty -- we'd LOVE to have you. I understand that if you can't make the trip, you're here in spirit and have been silently and not so silently cheering us on from your corners of the world. We are basically living there these days. I go to school, go to work, go clean for a couple of hours -- luckily there isn't much going on right now during the day so I am getting homework done. The girls have "icky" clothes in the car at all times, and Caity is a really good window washer (also good to know). Kenzie put on gloves, and hauled acoustic ceiling tile until the cows came home tonight -- she was so cute with her little green dolly.

Maybe patience is a virtue we possess afterall... Anyway, this obviously isn't public knowledge until such time as we get that phone call making it official, hence the reason Jamey's been talking in code for the better part of two weeks. BUT, he's worked really hard. He has grown a lot over our experiences with Trinity, and it's nice to finally have some validation and a payoff in sight."

Which brings me to today -- a glorious rainy afternoon in Little Rock. One full of possibility from the very beginning. I should probably add that Jamey got a call from the Bishop last night, but it wasn't an official call. Just once again validation that we were indeed doing something right. So today I am sitting in my healthcare provider CPR class (taught by one Michelle Bentley) when my phone buzzes in my purse next to me. I let it ring, and when we took a break called and checked the voicemail message. "Hey, it's me -- I have very good news. Call me when you get a minute." EUREKA -- we struck gold, I tell you. Well not exactly, but we did get that official appointment -- and an invitation to District Conference (it really isn't optional) this coming Sunday so our DS can announce the good news to the district. And we are finally official -- the ultimate in validation that you are indeed doing the right thing.

So it seems I was wrong in my presumption that "this news" would be the icing on the cake. It's the cake -- we're still trying to decide what flavor icing it is -- but I'm sure it will be tasty when it's all said and done... sheri

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So, I'm a glutton for punishment, apparently. Really, I am. Everyone who knows me, really knows ME -- knows that to be true. I don't walk away from a challenge. I don't shy away from feeling (although at times I should) -- and fortunately for me, it is probably the single most identifying trait of my character. It would be easy to get bogged down in all the "things" about life that don't go my way. It would be easy to crawl into a cave and just say "life happens" and it's fair to some and not to others.

I spent part of this evening at Little Rock Central High School -- at an open house to determine which high school my youngest daughter will attend in the fall. The rest of my evening was spent on my couch, watching the Barbara Walter's interview with Patrick Swayze. Ok, first, I'm a Swayze fan since Dirty Dancing. I've seen the movie at least 200 times, and have always "dreamed" that I was Jennifer Gray in the final scene when he utters the words, "nobody puts Baby in a corner". *sigh* -- absolutely dreamy. But more importantly than that, he is bringing to light a cause that I believe in -- finding a cure for Pancreatic Cancer.

People close to me know this is a cause that is near and dear to my heart. You see, almost two years ago (January 25th it will be two years exactly) my best friend lost her battle with this devastating disease. Her name was Teresa "Terri" Dean Klemm Hall -- and she was not only my closest confidant on this planet, she was also my mother. She was just shy of her 52nd birthday. She fit none of the "criteria" for risk -- she wasn't male, in her late 60's-70's -- she was 47 when she was diagnosed. It's still "raw" -- I miss her everyday.

So, you're probably asking yourself, "why would someone who has dealt with this personally, watch a celebrity interview?" -- Well, you see -- until his diagnosis, Pancreatic Cancer was kind of brushed under the rug. It has always taken a back seat to the more curable cancers -- breast, colon, etc. It's essentially a death sentence to those diagnosed, because it's hard to detect and when they do find it, it's too late to do anything to treat it and have a good chance of remission. Those fortunate (my mom was one of those) have resectionable tumors (meaning they can have radical surgery to remove the tumor and get "clean" margins). But so many aren't that fortunate. My mom lived almost 4 years after diagnosis. Her cancer went into remission for two of those years. Then in came back with a vengeance.

My heart goes out to those who have to live through this disease -- and to those who have to watch their loved ones lose the fight. I've walked in your shoes. I've seen the battle firsthand. I'm stronger than I give myself credit for being, and my guess is you are too. This January 25th, I going to remember the legacy my mom left. And I'm going to say a prayer for all those who are fighting the fight -- maybe your fight isn't cancer, but keep your head up. Better days lie ahead, while you may not see it at this particular moment.