In the beginning....

Tomorrow marks my 2 year anniversary of the first time I went to Riverview. I wasn't dragged there. I wasn't expecting to be changed, either. I was hung over and sick. I was also searching, but used to it by now. For the past few years I had been intensely seeking for a place I fit in, a place to grow, a place to know God...a place I hadn't really ever had. I listened with skepticism as the pastor discussed being in a rut. I chuckled to myself. Yes, sir...my whole life.

My parents were high school sweethearts, married right out of high school with a little girl on the way. They lived in Laingsburg, MI sandwiched in-between my dad's family: grandpa and grandma on one side, aunt Helen's family on the other. My mother worked as a hair stylist to help put dad through Michigan State. After he graduated, he took a job as a bartender. Both had jobs which required communication skills and dealing with other people's issues but they were so tired of being young, struggling, supporting a family, the two caved under the pressures.

They separated in 1975 and my dad moving to Lansing.

The End.

Oh...wait...there must be more.

Mom did the best she could with an 8-year-old. They continued to go to the Laingsburg Methodist Church with the rest of my dad's family, who fully supported my mom's decisions. Dad came back to Laingsburg once a week to watch my sister on Wednesday nights. I guess its safe for all to guess that my parents still had some kind of love between them otherwise, I wouldn't be writing this :)

I don't know if I was supposed to save their marriage, if I was a "surprise" to them, or if they panicked when my mom got the results. Mom says she was happy but I wonder. The truth: my grandfather was diagnosed with lung cancer and asked my pops to move back home. I guess, in a way, the tragedy of my grandpa dying is why I might be here. God knew I was going to arrive on the scene but everyone else thought my sister was going to be an only child.

Mom and dad did get back together until I was about two and a half. My father finally confessed he was in love with someone else and they got divorced.

My mom had little options at the time. She met a man who was 10 years younger. His wife had left him with a four year old son and a one and a half year old daughter. We went to live with him in Charlotte but we had to leave behind the family, including my sister. She was 12 at the time and did not want to live with Lee. My mom's parents took her in so she grew up in Ellsworth, a small town next to Charlevoix, MI.

My mom stepped right in as a surrogate mother to Chad and Fawn. Fawn even called her mommy. She brought us three kids to a little country church around the corner from our house. This church resembled the church from Little House On The Prairie, complete with a Reverend Alden. Approximately 20-30 people attended, all of them were our neighbors. A large cross hung behind the minister over a red curtain backdrop. I always wanted to know what was behind the curtain. A picture of Jesus hung above the organ. I would stare at His image, wonder why this guy loved me so much. I saw pictures of Jesus playing with sheep and holding little kid's hands. It didn't make sense to me. But if we didn't love him, we were going to hell for sure. As far as I knew, hell meant no Barbies, Pound Puppies, big wheels, or family. Sure, I'll love Jesus. He did die for me after all...wait...I wasn't even alive. How did he die for me before I was even born? I just did as I was told. Believe him. Love him.

There is a memory that stands out. Nighttime. Candles flickered. Everyone was singing Christmas hymns. Lee was there which was unusual. The "Larder" children were asked to come to the front of the church and recite a poem. It was about a Christmas Tree. We had one little line each. One of us froze. Can't remember who. I was deathly afraid. It was probably me.

For the most part, us three kids went to church every other weekend when we were home. We dreaded it. Getting dressed up, putting on the tights, dress pants, uncomfortable shoes, curling the hair. My argument was that the guy in the pictures wore a robe and sandles. Why were we getting so pretty? It was ingrained into our minds: it is respectful to dress up when you enter the house of God.

Church was boring. We usually had to sit through the entire service because there wasn't much of a Sunday School program. My mom bribed us by promising McDonald's breakfast afterwards. The whole charade was over by the time we were 10. I'm sure it broke my mom's heart but we were relieved.

But there was something else going on behind the scenes. It was taking place every other weekend when I visited my father. It was confusing. It was a little scary. It was Catholicism.

Bad Day

I'm cleaning house a bit today on my blog and going through drafts I never posted. I wrote this on 2/14/05.

It is difficult to admit this happened...but it did. I had a rough day this weekend. I was challenged in a big way and I fell. I was quickly reminded about a line I have to draw. It is not a line regarding sexuality or drinking. It is a line of what I can expose myself to as a fairly new Christ Follower.

The wise know and understand the truth. Yes, they seek more wisdom but having a firm perspective and knowing the Bible makes them less susciptible to controvery. They walk into a fire, they leave unscathed because they hold on to what they've learned. Throw a new believer in the fire, chances are they will get burned unless someone brings them out of it.

I saw the book sitting out and I read one page. It was a book which explains the Da Vinci Code. I thought it was the book which disproved the Da Vinci Code. Nope. One page was all it took to make my head spin. Immiediatly, I went to my Bible and tried to look for answers to some crazy theory I just read. I didn't find anything. Tired, I took a nap.

Upon waking an hour later, I felt so cold and alone. It was almost like I could feel my own mortality...the fact that I wouldn't always be alive. But the feeling of just complete lonliness pressed my heart.

"What in the hell was I doing? What was this religiousy crap I was buying into? And God? Give me a break. It's like Santa Claus and I'll never know because there is no God...there is no God? Is there a God? Have I been brainwashed? What is happening?"

I seriously panicked. Lost. Confused. Sick. Anger. Tears. Shame.

Every new Christian should have a sponser of some sort. So I called mine, JAC. But I was evil and spoke evil. All of this anger was just building inside of me. The sponsor picked me up and we started driving out to Charlotte to see some friends. We got as far as the high school when I got a call from my sister that my car was blocking her in. We turned around and went back. As we left for the second time, I said, "maybe we weren't supposed to go to Charlotte tonight. Let's go to 2 Feathers. I've never been."

So we went. And the Holt Wrestling Coaches were there. And they were so happy to see us. They invited us in and we ended up laughing a lot. And it was purely coincedence, right? I finally admitted why I was tripping out so bad. My sponsor listened paitently and said some things I took to heart.

I feel okay right now. It's almost like after a fight when you feel a little sensitive around the person who hurt you or who you hurt. God didn't hurt me but I still feel a little shaky. I suppose this happens to people without wisdom and knowledge. I'm quickly trying to gain some but it could take my whole life. What am I supposed to do in the meantime?

Listen to my own stupid advice. I mean, look at what I had written the day before about turning God on and off? How He is always there. It is so hard to follow advice whether it is your own or another humans. Anyhow, all is good now. I got back up but feel the limp a little. It will heal. Damn that satan, too. He's a tricky-you-know-what.

Gone Fishing

I read an article today entitled “When God Seems Distant.” The first line is “God is real, no matter how you feel.” Conclusion: We can’t turn God on and off. We can turn ourselves on and off but God remains.

The author of this book brought up something striking for a new Christian: sometimes God shuts up. He doesn’t go away but it feels like there’s nothing there. “When you are a baby Christian, God gives you a lot of confirming emotions and often answers the most immature, self-centered prayers—so you’ll know He exists.” I can agree with this. God has been on my speed dial for two years and I can’t believe the things I’ve been blessed with just by asking. He does the craziest little things and makes me KNOW it is Him.

The author went on to say how God will wean us of this excessive dependency on feelings. He wants us to grow, live in faith, and trust Him. “The most common mistake Christians make in worship is seeking an experience rather than seeking God. But seeking a feeling, even a feeling of closeness to Christ, is not worship.”

This was tough for me to read let alone understand, but I see what the author is saying. We should not base our relationship with God on feelings alone—we need to base it on faith because the feelings will leave us. We will go through periods of “dryness” or a rut. “Yes, God wants you to sense his presence, but he’s more concerned that you trust him than that you feel him.”

The author gave tips on what to do when it feels like God's gone fishing, especially at the worst times in your life: "How do you keep your eyes on Jesus when they’re full of tears?”
*Tell Him how you feel, just as Job did. “God can handle your doubt, anger, fear, grief, confusion, and questions.” This author states that admitting your hopelessness can be a statement of faith.
*Focus on who God is:
Good, loving (I first thought this said good-looking), all-powerful, in control, knows everything about us, and will save us.
*Trust God to keep His promises, even if we don’t see the result for 50 years.
*Remember what He did for you.
Even if God never does anything for you again, remember that He gave us His son. “That alone is worthy of your continual thanks and praise. Never again should you wonder what you have to be thankful for.”

It is these times of absence when we mature, grow in our faith and learn to trust God when we don’t feel God. Is God with us right now? Yes. Do you feel Him? Do you need to? I like it when I can feel God, but I know that I won't always...and he'll still be there secretly urging me to grow to a new level.

I could also just be crazy.

We have a friend named Dan. His dad isn't doing so hot. Please pray for his father and for the family. I'm sure it helps that Dan's wife is hot and his baby is the cutest but...man, this sucks...its hitting extra hard. Good ol' empathy....

This is AWESOME.

Day 1

The first day of Lent went pretty well. Went out for drinks with a friend and ordered a sandwich with no cheese. I also flossed last night. Yay, me. Then came my mini Bible study, starting at 10:30 (so I can be in bed by 11). I meant to learn something new about Jesus but I just couldn't pull myself away from Acts. It was getting so intense. And now...a Bible question for you:

Who is considered the first Christian martyr?

I'm sure all of the elders know this but I wonder, without looking it up, how many people know this person. The bonus question is how did this person's death result in the spread of Christianity?

I know, I know...probably too easy for all of you but being a toddler, I just thought I would throw it out there.

Unanswerable Questions

On May 23, 1994, I handed in my last Modern English Literature paper to Mrs. Lynch, 5th hour. It was handed back to me a week later with the following note: Holly-This is so special-it made me cry because I was once-and maybe still am, that little girl, too—I doubt, I question, I ache for answers which don’t come-you put it together in pain and hope. A+

This might be the only A+ I ever received. It was definitely the most important because I bared my soul to Mrs. Lynch. I seriously took the barriers down and wrote as if my reputation didn’t matter. I believe this paper reflects the faith struggle I was going through 10 years ago. I couldn’t write the faith journey without this reflection of myself at 18-years-old. I’m not sure I’ll share the whole thing. Some of it is too private to post. But I’ll share what matters. This paper wasn’t about shock value. It wasn’t full of original ideas.

Please keep in mind this writing reflects who I was 10 years ago. I was seriously a confused individual :) Here goes nothing....

Unanswerable Questions
It was the month where the snow covered most of the Western Hemisphere. Chilly winds brought drifting snow through the midnight sky. Most people were asleep. Some people were preparing for the next day’s Sunday service. This midnight was no different from the rest. It was this midnight, however, a baby girl was born.

Did she blow in with the chilly winds? Was she brought with the drifting snow? Could she have been sent from the heavens above? No one asked the questions. No one seemed to care. The baby was there, finally, and every heart that knew her felt blessed.

The baby girl was tucked away in a cozy little town. An abundance of security surrounded her life. Daddy, Mommy, Sissy, and baby Jesus were among her first words. She was brought into God’s body and baptized.

A tragedy struck the baby girl’s home. The death of her grandfather shook the family. As his loved ones buried him, they looked to his baby granddaughter sadly. She would never know the great man he was. They thought, “God must have His reasons.”

The little girl’s security was taken from her at a young age. The family split up. Daddy moved to Lansing and Sissy went to live up north. Her mother was left to guide her. They moved far away from her cozy home into a nicer home with a man, a boy, and a girl. Her new companions quickly became her older brother and younger sister. The little girl was surrounded by new security and happiness, yet her heart ached for her father and Sissy.

The little girl’s mother decided to begin the teachings of religion. Church and Sunday School were attended. Stories for Jesus’ miracles were read. They fascinated her young mind. However, her mother never explained the more specific ideas of their Methodist religion. The little girl lost interest but not faith in God nor Jesus. Even at her young age, the little girl decided that she did not believe in organized religion.

Time passed. The little girl spent the weekdays at school and the weekends at her father’s home. Once a year, she and her mother would travel up north to visit her grandparents and Sissy. Life was grand. God was loved.

The girl began middle school. She made some friends and her time was occupied. She said her prayers every night and respected all of the Ten Commandments. She even attended church annually to please her mother.

The girl’s life was so secure and happy, she didn’t see death sneaking up behind her. Slowly and painfully, it took a friend. For the first time, anger towards God filled her heart. Unanswerable questions were raised.

Where was Kim? Was she on earth watching everyone as an angel? Was she in heaven with God? Kim’s step-mother gave birth to Kim’s brother the day after she died. Had Kim been reincarnated into the baby boy? Was she just dead? How could God take a fourteen-year-old daughter, new sister, and friend?

Months sped by and July brought a summer rainfall. After the rain ended, the girl and a friend were driving on a three wheeler. The girl saw the barbed wire fence but the tires slid in the mud. Her leg and arm were ripped open. The friend climbed over the fence and began to run the half mile for help. The girl was left alone.

She screamed in fear for help. She screamed for Kim. Loneliness surrounded her. She began to say the Lord’s Prayer. It was then that a ray of sunlight burst through the clouds and shone on her broken body. The girl’s spirits were raised. She felt God. She felt Kim. She felt her grandfather. She wanted to go to them. Her spirits soared. The pain was gone. Someone shook her body. She had been rescued. God was forgiven.

A new school was attended. Her brother and sister fit in perfectly. Everyone seemed to hate the girl. The girl wanted friends but had a hard time making them. Then, another major tragedy hit the family. Her step-father’s best friend was killed in a car accident half a mile from their home. Her step-father turned to alcohol. Long nights in the bar pushed him away from his son, daughter and wife. The girl didn’t really care. Her feelings were gone.

Summer came. It brought warm temperatures, nights in the tent listening to the countryside fall asleep, fireworks, bike rides, pool parties, and a separation.

The girl and her mother fled for happiness to a place called Holt. At first, the girl was terribly lonely without her brother and sister, but now she lived ten minutes away from her father and Sissy lived down the street with her new dog and new husband.

School started and Holt became the heaven she had hoped for. New friends filled the gaps and new adventures brought her smile back. Unanswerable questions she used to ponder on became trivial. Living life was more important.

The death of Ryan White took a little more faith away from God. The girl believed Ryan was supposed to make it. He was a good person. Why did God allow him to get A.I.D.’s? Why did Ryan have to suffer? If God was purely good, why did all of these horrible things happen?

In the middle of her tenth grade year, the biggest miracle of all occurred. Her baby nephew was born. He arrived in the middle of a snowstorm. He was born at a difficult time. Sissy was going through a divorce. However, the baby boy brought everyone hope.

The girl began to ask questions again. Where did the little miracle come from? Did he come in with the drifting snow or the chilly winds? Why was he born now, at a time when the world seemed to be crumbling?

The girl grew. A new best friend entered her world and they were inseparable. They felt they were now mature enough to begin drinking. They went back to the girl’s old home and partied with her brother. They drank. They had fun. They enjoyed their youth.

The snow came back and brought a new tragedy. A girl they partied with was killed. Their beer bottles dropped and shattered.

The girl reached inside herself for help. People called her moody. Some called her a bitch. The only thing she could see was the future. Her final year of true adolescence had arrived. It was time to grow up. High school life became juvenile. She was tired of the petty fights and insignificant friendships. Drinking and drugs were stupid. She preached against "certain things"…and then did them. Everyone thought she was so special. She going to be the first in her family to go away to college. No one knew. No one except for God. Of course He knew. He let it happen to her.

She scrambled inside for an answer. She couldn’t let her family down. She had prom, college, a future. The little baby, who was now a young woman, brought those unanswered questions up again.

She had been baptized but what did that mean? She had been a fairly good child and had always put her faith in God. She did not believe in organized religions but used their churches to worship God on her own terms.

The tragedies had always come with the snow: grandpa, Kim, Allen, Ryan and Christina were dead. Yet, the snow had also brought in miracles and hope: her own birth, the birth of Kim’s brother, and the birth of her nephew. So the girl attempted to rationalize God’s reasons. Kim’s death prepared her for the other tragedies. Allen’s death had brought her to Holt. Ryan’s death had saved him from a vicious disease. Christina’s death forced her to rethink her habits and way of life. Were these lessons of God or just lessons of human life?
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I’ll come out of this shell to say I believe in fate. I believe I control my life. I believe in God, though sometimes I think he might exist only because people need to have something to believe in. After all, the things that have happened in my life, it’s easy to put my faith in something superior.

But it makes me wonder. We all start out to be perfect little babies no person hates. As we grow, something changes us. Some remain good, others stray far from innocence. We gain enemies. We gain tragedies. We gain miracles, too. Things tend to even out rather than being all good or bad. We get ourselves into our own messes. How can God control all of this?

One of my biggest questions is where is Jesus? If he’s the messiah, why hasn’t he come back? Is it because all of his brothers and sisters have turned their backs? Or is it because Jesus was just a quack like the one at my step-mother’s church? I believe in Jesus. He was a real man who performed miracles and loved people but how does He fit into my life?

Now Matt’s gone. Damn it. We all pulled for him. We showed him how much we cared even though we didn’t know him and now he’s gone. Two weeks until graduation and he’s gone. The hallways I walk and see, he once saw but now he’s gone. Just like that. His life is gone and ours goes on. Our God did this?

In the end, maybe we are the ones who watch out for ourselves. Maybe there is no reason to be kind to one another or to abide by the rules. Maybe there is no ultimate goal. It’s hard to imagine, however. There must be a heaven. My faith is somewhere but it’s lost. The only thing I have are these unanswerable questions.

Packzi

Yesterday was amazing. Religion was flying around here at Valassis. It began in the morning when I discovered some of my electronic folders were missing. I called and left a calm, yet urgent message for Dave. His line was busy because at the same time, he had discovered my electronic folders were missing and was frantically leaving me a message.

We finally connected. It was strange because this dude was panicked.

"Dave, you call in the big guns...IT...and while you're doing that, I'll pray." He agreed. I prayed. He called me back. "I need to have more faith because I found the folders.

"I wasn' t worried," I said.

After lunch, I went down to check on Dave. He relayed that the day was really going down the sewage drains. I laughed and said maybe he should eat a packzi. This started a conversation that lasted 45 minutes.

Dave (the Pentecostal), Jimie (the Catholic) and me (the...ummmm...mutt? mixed breed? Great Commission Church rep? Oh! Plain old Christian) discussed our religions and how I didn't really have one. We laughed about Dave's church, we joked about Catholics, and they both agreed I belong to the church that handles live snakes (still don't understand the joke but they thought it was pretty hilarious). The conversation got really interesting when Chuck rolled his chair over. We all busted out laughing.

"Glad you joined this discussion," Dave said. Chuck asked why. "Because we needed to add a Jew, " I joked. We all laughed and then in a non-threatening manner, we discussed religions and beliefs....a tricky thing to do in a corporation.

Later in the afternoon, I went to get some packzi's for my teammates and ran into Dave talking to four others in the hallway. Something about the way they were all just standing there in the middle of the hallway made me curious, so I stopped. Guess what they were talking about? No, they were actually talking about Easter.

Apparently, one of the girls I work with thought Easter was some kind of Hallmark holiday and full of eggs, the Easter bunny and baked ham, but not green eggs and ham. Seriously, I almost started crying but held back. We explained it to her but the loudest voice was coming from Geetha, who is from India. It was such a mix of culture, really interesting.

The best part from all of these discussions is that no one was judging each other and I wasn't judging in my heart. I really don't like how religion is such an icky conversation topic but everyone was able to discuss, relate, and ask questions without feeling threatened in any way. Yay, God.

I'm Sorry

If you hadn't wondered about me,
I wouldn't be where I am now.
If you hadn't cared about where I stood,
I would be stuck in sinful relationship.
If you didn't lead me,
I wouldn't have followed.
If you didn't show me my potential,
I wouldn't be showing others their potential.
If you would have given up on me,
I would have given up on myself.
If you didn't love me more than yourself,
I would not know Christ's love.
And I'm so, so sorry that I don't love you back,
the way you need me to.

Lent

This is my favorite time of the year.

Lent is an exciting time, propelling us closer to spring. Warmer temps, more sunshine and the best part: rebirth. During these 40 days, nature slowly transforms itself into soft new colors, buds sprouting, tulips popping…from death to birth

Lent is a sad time, especially this year, though not compared to last year. The death Christ suffered for us moves me to no end. But we are also approaching the anniversaries of friends/family who have died.

Lent is a powerful time. We reflect on what God did for us and the sacrifice of our savior.

This weekend marks my two year anniversary, or birthday of the day I woke up, stood up, and paid attention by listening to what God was trying to tell me for so long, and following Him: my death to my birth. Over this season, I will be taking a look at a story…it’s about faith…its mine. I’ll share the journey I’ve traveled so far. Some of it is personal, but not too personal (those will be omitted).

And now, here are some things I’ve given up for Lent from high school thru last year:
Skittles
Swearing
Fast Food
Pop
Drinking

This year, I plan on giving up cheese...and shopping for myself. I’m also going to do the following:
Floss every night
Learn one thing about Jesus every day and journal it (maybe not here but in my Jesus journal).
Meet one new person at Riverview every Sunday.
Stop talking about Riverview.

Huh? Stop talking about Riverview? Yes, I think Riverview is my key to opening up dialogue with non-Christians. It is very easy to talk about my church. It opens the door to many interesting conversations. However, I want to talk about it less and talk about God more. Of course, if Riverview comes up or naturally works itself into a conversation, I’ll go for it. I just feel like I sometimes shove it down people’s throats, so I guess I’m giving up shoving Riverview down people’s throats.

Understand, I do all of this for fun. It has nothing to do with my salvation and I understand I’m not sacrificing to God. I do it because I’m hoping some of these changes will form into good habits. I’ll use Lent as the excuse.

Blow drying my hair this morning, the old mind wandered back to college days. Senior year, I started dating a guy who had several friends that were really pretty girls. Two of these girls drove me nuts. They seemed flawless: the hair, the clothes, the humor...I was a little (lot) insecure. What made it worse was that Angie and Shelley didn't always seem so friendly. In fact, I always felt like they were judging me. So I wanted to change.

I went to my mom with a picture in hand. "Mom, I want this haircut." "Why this haircut?" "Because....there are these girls that hang around with Bush and I just need to look extra...I don't know...good (meaning hip or cool)." Now, my mom could have argued with me about feeling like I wasn't good enough blah, blah, blah but she just gave me the haircut. I was satisfied. I felt cool. No, it didn't fix the relationship between Angie, Shelley and myself.

Yes, I was thinking about all of this while blowing drying my hair this morning. Then, I smiled.
*I was a bridesmaid in Angie's wedding.
*Shelley just sent me an early birthday gift--clothes from my favorite store.

These two people have been my close friends for over 5 years now. Funny....weird funny....

This year, I'm not even going to pretend to care about the Superbowl. I'm just not into it this year. In fact, I think I'll watch a movie or do something else.

Right now, I'm eating a Jaime Hitch Superbowl cookie. It has little helmet sprinkles on top of Jaime's famous frosting.

I care about the cookie but not the Superbowl. Please don't tell my dad.

What do you think of this picture?
It resembles my Michael Jackson Barbie...

The Day The Music Died

Driving into work this morning, the radio faithfully scanned for a good station. The word "died" shot through the speaker and into my ear. I hit the scan button to return to the station. "Did you know the song 'American Pie' is about Buddy Holly?" the disk jockey asked.

I rolled my eyes. Doesn't everyone know that?

Maybe not. After all, I had forgotten the day. How could I! Forgetting February 3 is like forgetting the day Laura Ingalls Wilder released Little House In The Big Woods. People don't just forget. By a small miracle, I was reminded.

I love Buddy Holly's music. It started when I was in 10th grade. After watching La Bamba, I was curious to know more about this guy who, through a stroke of bad luck, charted a plane that killed all three stars and the pilot. I studied Buddy, bought CDs, found a collection of his records...loved him.

He was so young when he died but had accomplished a great deal in such a short time. The Cricket's first hit "That'll Be The Day" wasn't released until 1957. Buddy was dead two short years later.

Here are some facts surrounding Buddy:
*Peggy Sue was written about Jerry Allison's girlfriend (and later ex-wife), NOT Buddy's girlfriend as some would have you believe.

*On "Everyday" the slapping sound you hear is Jerry Allison slapping his legs to the beat of the song. He was doing this during practice and Buddy like the sound so much, they added it in.

*On Peggy Sue, the drums get softer and louder as the engineer opens the door to the room Jerry Allison was in playing drums. Oh, technology...

*There is another song where Jerry Allison plays on a box top but I can't recall which song.

*The day Buddy Holly met Maria Elena in New York City, he took her to dinner and asked her to marry him. She said yes.

*Buddy didn't want to go out on tour but he was cash poor with a baby on the way. He left behind reels of music which were later finished and released.

*Buddy was tired of the bus breaking down so he chartered the plane for his two bandmates, Waylon Jennings and Tommy Allsup. Tommy gave his seat to the Big Bopper. Waylon flipped a quarter over his seat with Ritchie Valens. As the VH1 "Behind The Music" story goes, Buddy teased Waylon for foolishly staying behind. "I hope your bus breaks down," he yelled back to Jennings. "Yeah," Waylon yelled back, "well I hope your plane crashes."

My sister and I went to the place where Buddy played his last concert: The Surf Ball Room in Clear Lake, Iowa. We also trekked out to the site. Really sad. It is in the middle of a corn field (surprise). Three records engraved on a gold guitar.

Two of my friends, Errol and Blaine, are also huge Buddy fans. For the past 5 years, we've been trying to plan a trip to the Surf Ball room because they hold a Winter Dance Party this time every year. Its funny...we start talking about it in the summer but forget and then boom...its February 3rd. Part of the problem is that the place is in Iowa and who wants to travel to Iowa in the winter (or at all)? Too far of a drive. But it seems to creepy to fly. Anyway, I'm going to give those guys a call because next year, Feb. 3rd falls on a weekend so we are going!

Back in the day...

I went to the Holt vs. Grand Ledge dual meet last night at Holt High School. This was the first dual meet I'd attended since my graduation some...Um...10 years ago.... It was a different experience hanging with the crowd because my place was either at the head scoring table or the bench with the team. The fans around me could attest to this fact: I got a little carried away at times. No more than anyone else but....you would have thought I was the team mother.

"Pick the ankle! Bring up the head! Look at the lights! Squeeeeezzzze! Pin him!"

I had yelled at Joey earlier because he was coaching all of the kids under his breath (a little distracting when I was trying to plan my moves). Once Joey started shouting, I was convinced the wrestlers could only hear the two of us. They needed us.

The bright moments were few and in the beginning of the meet. A Holt kid was winning by one point. There were 5 seconds left. The GL kid was trying for a takedown. Simultaneously, as the clock buzzed...the ref gave the GL kid two points for a takedown. The GL kid went nutso, yelling, screaming, jumping for joy, showing off his muscles to the crowd...the poor Holt kid hung his head in shame. But wait! The scorekeeper disputed the call! The ref confered with her. She insisted that the time was up before the ref called the two points! The ref reversed the call and Holt wins the match!!!! Yay!!!!! The Holt kid starts yelling, screaming, jumping for joy...while the GL kid goes nutso, yelling, sreaming, cursing. But hey, if the daughter of Holt's head wrestling coach says the time was up, the time was up.

I had a lot of fun even though Holt got killed. Some things change. I also got to watch the kids wrestle under the light. That is so cool. The kids don't run out to "Buddy you're a boy make a big noise, Playin' in the street gonna be a big man some day, You got mud on yo' face, You big disgrace, Kickin' your can all over the place..." That used to get the crowd and the team going. It's probably considered un-sportsman-like now or something. Booooooo....

Also wanted to mention that I went to Monika's son's basketball game before the wrestling meet. Monika was there with all three boys. They love her so much. I stood in awe of the way she communicates and handles their personalities because all three are so different. Zehlin, who is almost 9, came running off the court after his game. He gave Monika a big kiss and gently rubbed the top of her head. "Good game, brov-a" Griffin tried to tell him. Joey had to pull me out of there because my eyes were welling up. I hope I'm that close with my kids.

"Of course I'm having fun! If I were having any more fun, I'd have to hire someone part time to help me enjoy it." ~Shane, Purchasing Supervisor with Valassis, on trying to help me solve yet another major printing snafu I had somehow created.

Quiz

I attempt to put quizzes on my site but am not well learned. I'm attempting this again but in case it doesn't work...well, you know I tried. I'm still figuring out how to put the quiz online so all of you who've never even heard of my church can take a stab at the quiz.

This was a quiz to find out which Riverview Pastor you are most like (created by another Riverview Pastor). I laughed at the results because I answered all but three of the questions as "Not at all."

These were the results:

Which Riverview Pastor are you?
created with QuizFarm.com">

You scored as Steve Sommerlot. You actually look younger now that you shaved your head. That still doesn't mean you're good looking. You laugh at yourself...a lot...and so others laugh with you. Steve Sommerlot 25% Paul DenHerder 13% Noel Heikkinen 13% Rob Schiller 0% Mark Brett 0% Which Riverview Pastor are you? created with QuizFarm.com

This dude wants to get married really bad...

Movies

I know no one is going to admit to this but we are among friends here on this blog. Everyone knows each other, right? I've tried to introduce everyone to each other a little bit so we all feel comfortable. Now, I have a questions...between friends. Is there a movie that has made you cry but you've been too ashamed to admit it? Come on now...I won't tell...in fact, I'll tell you that every time I watch Prince of Egypt, I get a little teary.

Anyone else out there? Matt.....? Sonny.....?

Oh, Joey and I went and saw Finding Neverland yesterday afternoon. It was REALLY sad.

Hello, Special Guests

Recently, someone mentioned to myself and about 1,000 other people how much he enjoys reading people's blogs. It seems, however, he doesn't like the "dumb" pictures. Weeeeeeeelllllll, last time I checked this was MY blog and I like posting pictures. Therefore, I posted a whole bunch for everyone's enjoyment. By the way, God loves it when I post pictures, so there. My blog, I'm in control, meow.

Ha!

My father, Prince Charles, and I, Princess Holly, on Christmas night. This is the man who thinks I belong to a cult. Well, he thinks Joey belongs to a cult and Joey got me involved. Someday, I'm going to convince him to come check out my cult. We'll have to plan it out ahead of time so someone can approach him after the service to ask if he would like to come to the back room and drink goat's blood. I'm positive my pastors could set this up. Right now, my pops is helping my step-mom make communion bread for the church. He doesn't attend the church with her, just helps make the bread. I was joking with him and said, "Is this what is going to get you into heaven?" He replied, "I'm hoping..."

Lyndsay and her Christmas gift. When I saw her last weekend, I asked if she could play anything, yet. She said, "no, not really...but I'm taking lessons from a 5-year-old..." Apparently, the next door neighbor is a real musical genius. I've seen him play, too. He's pretty good.

Rocky (with his piece of cheese) and I 2005

Rocky and I in 1994

I got my pictures back from the trip to meet Jillian. She is adorable but Monika is sooo sick of pink. I had a good visit with Monika, too. I showed her what I wrote about her on Loki Life. She was quiet while she read, asked who reads the site, and said, "you know, it's all true...all of it. I'm so mad at myself for leaving." "But, Monika, you came back. You didn't have to. A lot of people don't. You did and I give you so much credit." The next day, Monika called me. "Holl, can I have a copy of what you wrote? I'm not sure why I gave it back to you but I really want a copy. Oh, and Chris and I want to check out your church. We really want Jillian to grow up knowing God." I said of course to both and also promised to get her permission next time I wrote about her. She said she didn't care because it was all true and she didn't see it as malicious. Still, I'll ask permission next time. I also know I'll be calling her for advice when each one of my children are born.

Little Jillian

Jillian and her mom, Monika

Monika and I in 1994

I have this wrestling scrapbook full of newspaper articles, pictures and other memorabilia from when I was the manager for the Holt Wrestling team (1990-1994). After I graduated from high school, my mom would save me the whole newspaper when there was an article about the team (they decided to get really good after I left). I was kind of lazy about it and just shoved the whole newspaper into the back of the scrapbook instead of cutting the articles out and pasting them in. Every so often, I would go through the book and look at the newspapers. I even did this as recent as last winter. So what do you think I was missing this whole time?

Thursday night, I was prepping my scrapbook for the wrestling banquet. Finally, after almost 10 years, I was finding some time to cut these articles out. I looked over one paper and something caught my eye: the date. March 3, 1996. This was the anniversary of Kim’s death. I got chills. My eyes fell to the picture of the 1996 Holt Varsity wrestlers with their trophies. And then my eyes fell a little bit more…to an article…an article that had been in my possession for almost 10 years. An article I’ve been unknowingly carrying around with me every time I moved. From Mt. Pleasant to Farmington Hills to Ferndale to Novi to Wixom and now to Walled Lake….

New Church is Proposed off College Heights.

Um...Holy Crap, Batman? How….what…no way…when…huh?

“Pastor Steve Sommerlod (no this is not MY mistake), 44, and his counterpart Pastor Paul DenHerder, 42, have a lot to be excited about these days…” The article goes on to explain the new building and even to show what it was going to look like. And I finally know why my church is called Riverview: God wants us to be like trees firmly planted by streams of water. It is derived from a Psalms verse. The church was also boasting 200 members. Wow. Amazing. 200 members. How did I not see this article before?

Oh, and directly under the article is an advertisement for an attorney that specializes in divorces, restoration of driver’s licenses and drunk driving. Perfect.

Project KMM~Update

Doors have been swinging open in the past few weeks. People I never thought I would see again are right in front of me. Still, there are disappointments I'm trying to figure out. Here is the scoop:

• I found Earl who was Kim's boyfriend. He gave me the names of two other people, but he couldn't offer me any specific memories.
• I got a hold of Kim's step-sister, TJ, who is going to help me to access to hundreds of pictures.
• I spoke to my step-bro about the project because Kim was his first love (at 12). He couldn't offer anything either...except one lead. He told me Kim's friend from roller skating worked at the Dawg House. "Mary Ann?" I asked. "No, Mary Kay," he answered. This was the girl I had been trying to find for years! Jackpot! I called up to the Dawg House. Mary Kay turned out to be a 55 year old woman. Nuts. I called Fawn, my step-sis. She laughed at me but then she said, "There is a waitress there who is really short...but her name is Jennifer." I felt defeated. I didn't remember a girl named Jennifer that hung out with Kim. For some reason, I pulled out my diary from when Kim died. I had listed the people who were at her funeral: Johnny, Jimmy, Earl, Jason, Mary Ann, Jennifer (Mary Ann's sister). Of course! Chad remembered Jennifer but he just got the details slightly confused. I called the Dawg House again, talked to the right girl, and set up a time to see her.
• I met up with Jennifer last night. She is so personable, sweet, and instantly I felt a connection to her. Her excitement to meet me led to a mini-reunion of Kim's friends from 17 years ago. Jennifer invited Mary Ann, Johnny, Marie, and a girl named Krista who drove from Warren to meet up with everyone. It was a great time, everyone hanging out, catching up, reminiscing...except...no one could really offer me anything about Kim. I mean, I could tell she effected them deeply because she was their friend and she died, but other than that...nothing. I sat there feeling defeated because this outcome wasn't what I expected. I also don't think they understand what I want from them. Nothing specific, it could be as general as they want. "Kim used to skate with so and so and we used to go to the dances and...." something! I took off a little frustrated but not showing it, of course. Jennifer walked me to my car. I now know she is the key to Kim's roller skating days. She wants to hang out with me again and I can see us becoming friends. I got into my car, turned it on, and the song "everything's gonna be alright..rock-a-bye" came on. I smiled, called Joey and drove home.

Joey made an excellent point: maybe I was only supposed to get them together. Maybe last night didn't have anything to do with Kim but it had everything to do with old friends meeting up after so long. Thinking back to last night, I remember Mary Ann saying she was so excited she couldn't sleep the night before. Still, I know Mary Ann and Jennifer have some stories to share, but perhaps last night wasn't the right time for 1987 but it was just time for now.

God is the best, though. I still talk to him about everything. I ask for his will and even though I got a little frustrated, I'm not giving up. There are still plenty of people to talk to and to meet. I'm not going to see this as a set back. I have all year to finish and I knew this wasn't going to be easy. Keep on....

Hmmm....

Now I KNOW more people read this web log. Will the stragglers please come forward? I feel like pulling the ol' "Don't make me pull this car over..."

I have things I want to post but I'm starting to get nervous...I'm not sure who is reading. I think it would be different if I was writing to a mass crowd...I know all of you (I think). There are so many things I want to share. I'm coming up on my 2 year anniversary of deciding to follow Christ...many have asked about my faith story and I'm contemplating it. Still, some things are too private. I'm saying all of this to guilt people into the roll call.

To those who came forward. And responses:

Joey: I met you 10 years ago. I've known you well for 2 years. You told me all of your stories within the first month of our courtship...but thanks for listening to all of mine, too. I do credit you for leading me in the right direction (even though we took a few wrong turns here and there). I love how well you know Christ even though you don't act like a know it all. You sit in Route 66 and whisper all the answers Chuck asks. I try to encourage you to speak up but you don't want to be wrong or upset people. The irony is YOU'RE A TEACHER. What is that saying teachers always say? There are no dumb answers? No....wait...there are no dumb questions but there are plenty of dumb answers....

Mike: I know I'm tied for first place as your favorite cousin. You rank up there, too. It's crazy stuff how Grandma's death really brought us together. I miss her so much but there is never enough thanks I could express to you for bringing her into your home while she waited for God to prepare her new one. I still don't like Star Trek all that much but you inspired me to try and do what I've always wanted to do with my life: produce videos/dvds. I hope you liked this lame post.

Matt: My republican friend! Thank you for your viewpoints even though you know that I know that you know that I am not so much into politics. But we do share a love for presidential history. Thank you for your insights and for letting us dress you up as the Homecoming King. You are the best writer I know. Thank you for your advice and encouragement. Go State!

Noel: You've been my best friend for so long I don't know what I would do without you. Remember our trip to Florida on the Greyhound when you sold that ex-con the bottle of vodka and we had to write his name on his shirt because he drank the whole thing right then and there and passed out? Oh, wait....that was Kelly. Noel, thanks for being...you know....you...my crazy pastor. You teach me a great deal and open my eyes to so many things. I try to be a good sheep and follow...not you, of course, but JC. And no, not Joey Corr, but Jesus Christ. Are we all on the same page yet?

Chuck: I'm considering your idea. Just want to make sure the right "person" gets the glory. If you think it would help people, I'm in. Thanks for coming forward. Very brave of you. Thank you for Route 66. I walked out of there blown away at what an awesome book the bible really is. We all need to go see the Mega 80s next time they are in town. They rock out.

Kelly: You've been my best friend for so long I don't know what I would do without you. Remember our trip to Florida on the Greyhound when you sold that ex-con the bottle of vodka and we had to write his name on his shirt because he drank the whole thing right then and there and passed out? Of course you do :) Anyway, we have...I don't know...15 years of history? And I do know plenty of embarrassing stories about you...Gretchen! You are awesome, Kelly Roo. I miss you. Move back.

Dan: Even though you sing the songs wrong, you make Joey and I laugh. Yes, we laugh at you when you are on stage. How can we not? You're a funny guy. Thanks for wanting to get to know us and for the awesome advice you once gave us on how to approach a farmer about his dead calf. Thank you for encouraging me to start a blog. It seemed kind of freaky at first but...it's still kind of freaky. And Dan, we don't really laugh at you...we laugh with you even when you're not laughing. I love your wife, your son is adorable...thanks for making the move up to Lansing. You all needed to get out of Ohio.

Sonny: The story you told about when we met...that wasn't me. You must be thinking of someone else. We met when I went with my parents to a summer resort and you were the dance instructor. Remember how we planned that big finale together? My parents were soooo T.O.'d. You walked in and said, "No one puts Holly in a corner." We sure showed them..... Thank you for all of your wise instruction in Adobe photoshop (today) and for imaging my coupons on to the plates. You make me laugh and I pray you make the right decisions (hint, hint) about your life THIS YEAR.

Steve: Yay! You finally commented! I knew you could do it. I was thinking about your one decision just now...how many lives it changed by you moving out of the boonies and into a real city. The first time I went to Riverview, you taught about ruts and how we get into ruts with God. The whole Riverview thing blew me away. Thank you for your nuttyness and for teaching me a little something about imported beer. You know, when I think back, even to this summer, I was a little scared of you. I don't know if it was the bald head, the wrestler in you or what. I'm glad we've gotten to know each other better. Thank you for your compliments and for becoming a Christian.

Anyone else?

Roll Call

Some other people have done this on their blogs. Their blogs are published. Mine isn't. I thought you could only get to my site with my invitation. The invitation was extended to others. I've been pleasantly surprised by people commenting about this silly blog...surprised they were reading it and surprised they kind of liked it...kind of... So, what I would like to do is have a roll call. Post a comment telling me your first name, how we know each other and how well you THINK you know me (heh)...oh, and if you're really brave, offer an embarrassing or funny story...about yourself, not me :) I just want to see how many people are reading and who you are. Maybe if I know that, I'll think twice before publishing something lame. Thank you for your time and continued support.

Footloose

I purchased this staple 80s movie yesterday with a gift card. Love it though, Kevin Bacon could definitely be put under suspicion. A little too loose with the dance moves if you ya know what I mean.

I remember when this movie came out. My mom loved it. Willard reminded her of her younger brother. We all know a Willard. I know several. The farm boy who learned to dance. But that isn't what the movie is about. Those of us children/teens of the 80s can sum up the story well. A preacher goes hell bent on saving the town of Beaumont from sin after his son is killed in a car accident. He leads the town in banning rock music, dancing and books. His logic was that dancing leads to sexual irresponsibility. His wife, a quiet little bird with common sense, tries to rope the Reverend in. "Kids looking at each other gets them excited! Are you going to poke their eyes out?!" "I thought you would support me, Vi. Meow. I'm going to roll over and go to sleep now for dramatic effect."

This Reverend took on so much. He deems himself "responsible for the spiritual life of this community" by passing laws. Wow. My pastors have a lot to live up to. Rev. Shaw had a whole community to take care of so he had little time left for his teenage daughter who likes to dance, loves rock and roll.

Things start heating up when Ren rolls into town and decides to hold a dance. Then the climatic scene...Ren has to give his speech and what does the Reverend's daughter do? What do all pastor's daughters do? They flip out and rebel! No, no, no...this girl could have turned from the very thing taking up all of her father's time (God) but she turned to Him. She gave Ren a bible. Deep down, she knew it wasn't God's will to ban certain kinds of music, dancing, drinking, gambling, and books. Ariel gave Ren God's words to try to get through to the people of Beaumont. Ren, who claimed to be such a horrid speaker suddenly becomes a professional in front of the board. There is a time to every purpose under heaven. There is a time to dance.

The town really gets fired up after Ren gives his speech. His mom gets canned from her job, bullies throw a brick through the window. People start freaking out all over the place and the Rev. was facing a monster of his own creation. The final straw was when the book burning began. Rev. Shaw unleashes his anger and gets to see what a hypocrite he has been. "When did you all decide to sit in judgment? When were you elected to save everyone's souls in the city of Beaumont? Satan is not in these books. He's in here...in your hearts. Go home and sit in judgment of yourselves."

And then, everyone starts treating each other with love and graciousness: a happy ending. Well, after the fight there's a happy ending. I love the fight, too.

Rusty: No fights, Willard (punch, kick, slap)
Willard: (getting punched) what do you want me to do, Rusty?
Rusty: Kill the son of a bitch!
Ren suddenly runs out of the barn because he just had this sneaky suspicion that Chuck was there beating up his friends...what a guy.
Chuck: Hey, it's Mr. Dance Fever.
Ren: Yeah you're a real g-d d--m hero when it's 5 to 1. (punch, kick, punch, punch).
Ren: Let's Dance!

A couple of final thoughts about the movie:
That show, Joan of Arcadia where God takes on a different character...well, I think God was Andy, Ren's boss. Watch Andy next time the movie comes on TBS some random Saturday afternoon (or borrow mine). He's this quiet, character who doesn't say much but holds a lot of wisdom.

What a sweet soundtrack. I bought it in college. Everyone should have a copy.

For never dancing, these kids sure had some stylin moves.

Question, why in the world did Ariel give Ren a musicbox? And he liked it! Corn.

Soooo, kiddies, what movie shall we review next? Sixteen Candles? Top Gun? What has my life turned into...

One Decision

Saturday night, I went to a banquet honoring Rocky Shaft, Holt’s head varsity wrestling coach. The banquet honored him for 25 years of his service with the Holt Wrestling Program.

Rupert Shaft was born into a family of five children, he being the youngest and the only boy. They were all relieved that dad was finally getting his basketball player. He grew up in Holt but didn’t grow much past 5’6”. Every year he went out for the basketball team…and every year he rode the bench. So Rocky made one simple decision: wrestling.

He knew nothing about wrestling but he did it anyway. His family knew nothing about wrestling but he did it anyway. His father was a little disappointed but he did it anyway. He was pinned in 17 seconds in his first match but Rocky did it anyway. He went on to lead the Holt Rams to their first state wrestling title in 1971. Rocky went to Western Michigan but came back shortly after graduation. He became the head wrestling coach in the late 1970s and coached 20 individual state champions, 54 state placers and 149 state qualifiers. There’s also that infamous back to back state title in 1996-1997. Rocky’s overall record has been 275-39 over the past 24 years. And who does Rocky credit for these achievements? The kids, the parents, the assistant coaches, the managers, and his family...not himself. His motto: the fun is the memories.

Because of Rocky’s one decision in high school as a 16-year-old, a room full of people numbering close to 200, felt touched by him. Person after person stood up to express how much he helped them, what he taught them, how he changed their lives. And Mr. Shaft took it all humbly.

So why would I care so much about Rocky Shaft? Why would I be invited to a wrestling banquet?

Because of one complex decision my mom made. We moved to Holt in 1989…across the street from the Shafts. When I was in 8th grade, I often wondered about my neighbor who drove the big brown pick-up truck, was the father of three little girls, over decorated his house for the holidays, and hardly ever spoke to me. When I would pass him in the halls, I wondered if he knew I was his neighbor because I certainly knew him. He was coach Shaft. He seemed friendly but he was also intimidating—didn’t take crap from anyone. There was something about Mr. Shaft that made you want to know him.

So how did I meet Rocky Shaft? How did I become part of his inner circle? That’s right. Because of one simple decision I made: to become the freshman football manager. When I was in 7th grade attending Charlotte Jr. High, I decided I wanted to be the first female collegiate football coach. This was because of a decision my father made to take me to Michigan State football games at the age of four and teach me all of the detailed rules. Still, my becoming the manager of the freshman football team only got me slightly closer to Rocky. But a chance class schedule did. Rocky became my science teacher and convinced me to be the manager of the wrestling team even though I knew nothing about wrestling (except that guys were constantly throwing wrestling moves on each other that resembled hugging). Rocky was my coach, sending the bus to pick me up at my house on the way to weekend tournaments, having faith that I would learn fast, putting me in front of a team of hyper, teenage boys, teaching me the rules, the scoring, the different moves. He also became a second father to me, making sure I ate, that I had money, watching that no one gave me too much crap, and giving me the evil stare when I stepped out of line (oh so rare :). For four years, I worked with him, two of those years I was his varsity football manager as well.

Mr. Shaft taught me a lot. He made me laugh a lot, too. I know I made him roll his eyes a lot. I will forever thank God for getting the chance to know this man.

The decisions we make are so weird. Do you ever think about them? Ever wonder at how it all gets weaved together? I think it is true that if Rocky had stuck with basketball, my life would be fine. But I feel lucky and loved and blessed for having known Rocky Shaft. As my friend Dan once said, God doesn’t make just one decision the right one for us. We can pick and choose. The importance is to remember that our decisions have an impact, small and tremendous.

On a sidenote, have you ever attended a Holt Wrestling Match? When the lights turn off, the dome light lowers closer to the mat, the sound of Queen rocks through the gym, the wrestlers run out and around the mat, with their humble leader behind them…if you get the chance, check it out sometime. Tell Rocky that Holly sent you. I'm sure he'll roll his eyes :)

Andy lives 2 blocks from Wrigley Field. I grew up with a Cubbies fan (my dad) so I love Wrigleyville. This is a statue of Harry Carey. My pops used to yell for me right before the 7th inning stretch so we could sing with Harry. I would peddle my big wheel like mad trying to make it back to the apartment in time.

I ordered this baked potato on New Year's Day. It was friggin huge. Ry looks on in amazement (yes, that is Blue Moon in the pitcher. Thanks for asking.)

New Year's in Chicago. From l to r: Beks, Ry, Me, Andrew, Chip

My dear friends Kelly and Chris came to visit from Florida. More pictures were taken...still waiting to get those, KELLY :) Little 'fo on Kell and I:
*We met in 9th Grade at Holt Jr. High School. Yes, I'll say it, Kell...ummm...no I won't.
*We became friends in 10th grade after discovering all of the things we had in common (Laingsburg was our hometown)
*Kell moved to Duck Lake and graduated from Springport but I was there allll the time. Oh, the memories of Duck Lake...
*I credit Kelly with helping me become a Parrothead, though it was a combination of things. She is definitely my favorite Parrothead friend.
*Kell went through some really rough times after high school. She was living in the hood of Lansing. But she got out of it (thank you, Lord!).
*Kelly and I have too many stories to post. Other than my cousin, she has known me the longest on this blogsite. "The stories we could tell..."
*Kelly married Chris. She inherited two step-daughters. I was the maid of honor.
*Kelly moved to Florida, adopted two little boys, works as a Victim Resource Advocate, and watched her roof get blown away in both hurricanes.

My friend Ryan (Uncle Ry)

Becky and I at her birthday party (my condo in Walled Lake)

Jan. 24 called worst day of the year
Krissie and I wondered why we were so sad this morning....

Phobia

I have this fear...it's kind of weird...so far you aren't surprised. I'll just say it. I'm afraid...of Baby Showers. Actually, I'm afraid of Bridal Showers, too. I don't know what it is but I attempted to analyze this fear to try to find the source and fix it.

This always starts the same. I get the e-mail: "Hey! I'm having a baby/bridal shower in X month! Do you think you can come?" Feelings of excitement, joy fill me and I write back, "Absolutely! Can't wait!" And then the invite comes. I look at the date, make a mental note, and leave it somewhere. Weeks go by. Occasionally, I'll think about the shower, know it is coming up, vow to get something off their list and then don't.

Flash forward to at least two days before the shower. I start panicking. I figure everything they wanted is already bought so I don't even look at the registry. I go to stores where I can buy more for less and spend hours mulling over what in the heck to get these people. Then the sweat, shaking, anxiety...now I'm trying to figure out an excuse not to go. I don't like to go. I don't like having my gift opened in front of a whole bunch of people oooooing and ahhhhhing. Or, my gift has already been purchased so it goes into the return pile and everyone laughs.

Ok, arm chair psychiatrists. What's my deal? Why don't I rush out and get the registry right away? Why don't I hardly ever look at the registry? Most of the time, I don't have a lot of money to spend and I always think more is better. I don't know. I think there are feelings of inadequacy floating around like my gift isn't good enough. See, I like shopping for people. I like getting them stuff they want and need. But I would much rather go out to dinner with this friend and quietly give them the gift. No games. No dog and pony show.

Does this mean I won't have a bridal or baby shower? Probably not :)

"Consumer Christianity"

Do you ever get those little booklets from your church and it gives you a devotional a day? I got one from Rivervew called "Our Daily Bread" and it often steers me back on course throughout my work day. Today's reading was pretty good. Thought I would share.

"Christianity in modern America...tends to be easy, upbeat, convenient, and compatible. It does not require self-sacrifice, discipline, humility, an otherwordly outlook, a zeal for souls, a fear as well as love of God. There is little guilt and no punishment, and the payoff in heaven is virtually certain. What we now have might best be labeled 'Consumer Christianity." The cost is low and customer satisfaction seems guaranteed." --historian Thomas C. Reeves

"If we were only customers of Almighty God, we could be selective in our faith and reject anything we didn't like. But that's not the idea we get from Jesus. He pointed us to a cross, not to a spiritual check-out counter. He said: "If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily, and follow Me. For whoever desires his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will save it." (Luke 9:23-24)

"Christ died on a cross for our sins, not for satisfaction. And he calls us to trust in Him, then follow Him with a life of self-denial. In a world where the customer is always right, it takes radical obedience to God to keep from buying into 'Consumer Christianity.'" --David McCasland

This referred to one of my favorite verses in the Bible. Such a complex ideal for a human. Such a simple way to live. But it is true in what I see. Like the people on Saved! who walk around in this disillusionment that Jesus is going to make everything better. I also talk to people who think there is no hell or they can go to heaven for basically being a good person. That used to be me. I didn't like the happy clappys who would scream out in tongues and make me feel weird. Well...I still don't like them. They still make me feel weird. I still feel weird sometimes talking about Jesus. I'm fine with name dropping God but you mention Jesus, and people look at you funny. You turn into this nutty, freaky, yucky person and people slowly back away so they don't catch what you have. Weird.

Anyhow, that's all I have to comment on for now. I have some things to take care of before I leave for the day. Fire up the snow blowers.

Jane Marie

Me: What are you doing, Jane Marie?
J: Oh, you know, just sitting here with my elbow half-way up my arm.

Love that lady.

Monika

My friend Monika just had her fourth baby. After three boys, she finally made a girl. Monika also celebrated her 26th birthday last week. Yowzer.

I met Monika when she was 14. She was so sweet...innocent...well, she had us all fooled about the innocence part. Still, she quickly became one of my closest friends. We managed Holt's wrestling team together and had a lot of fun. Except for the fact that she was always getting grounded.

I graduated and moved up to Mt. Pleasant but came back to hang out once in awhile. One of the funniest memories I have of Monika was when she took Kelly and I to a party during the summer of 1995. She kept talking this boy up, wanted one of us to date him because he was so nice. Kell and I were 19...this guy was like 23 or something. Way too old in our books. We met him and he had hair to his shoulders. Not our type. Good thing neither of us took Monika up on her match making deal because by September, Monika was pregnant with his baby.

I think she was 16 years old. Her dad got transferred to Indianapolis and took the whole family down there. When Monika was 6 or 7 months pregnant, she moved back to Mason and moved in with Lance and his parents. She had Zehlin in May and he was so beautiful. I was the proud aunt. Monika and Lance got married when she became pregnant again two years later. They bought a house in Leslie and brought Kanen home from the hospital. Three years later, they planned Griffin, but I had since lost track of Monika. I got really TO'd over something she did.

My sister kept tabs on Monika through Mason Urgent Care. Mon would ask about me but it took her until 2003 to finally ask Lyn for my phone number. She called and I was happy. She was living in Mason again and going through a divorce. Now, she wanted to experience the freedoms of being a teenager...but she wasn't one anymore and she had three little people calling her mom. Monika caved.

I lost track of her again. The last I heard was my sister telling me Monika was moving to Alabama. She met a guy and they were getting out of town. Monika was afraid to tell me because she thought I would be upset. I remember unleashing on my sister. Of course I was upset! How could she leave three little boys? How could she do this to them? They didn't ask to be born. They didn't ask to have a flaky mom. I was pretty unforgiving. I was very judgmental.

I went to Monika's parents who had moved to Leslie. Her dad told me about all the problems Monika was having when she lived in Mason. Money, drugs, fights...he was kind of happy she got out of town. But then...then the boys came to visit her parents on Christmas Day. Griffin, who was one and a half, ran to Monika's room, calling out to her. Zehlin, the oldest, went after him trying to explain that mommy wasn't here anymore. The story broke my heart. But it was January 2004, and I was in a different place. I started praying like crazy. I prayed for her life. I prayed for her boys. I prayed she would come back to them.

I heard Monika was back in town through a kid I graduated with. I immediately tried to find her and ended up leaving a note on her parent's door. The note said to have Monika call me because I wanted to talk to her and I loved her a lot. Monika found the note and called. I saw her the next day, which was the day before my grandma died. She was pregnant again but happy...amd sweet, which she really, genuinely is. I decided not to judge this situation though I know in my heart what I wish. I just want to be there for Monika and for her to know I love her unconditionally. She told me she came back because she couldn't stand to be away from the boys. She said she didn't call me because she felt ashamed. I told her to never worry about that. Never worry about me judging her for decisions she makes. I'll love her even if I don't agree. If everyone else turns on her, I will show her God's compassion.

Monika = a test of patience, faith, compassion

I get to see little Gillian Christian Burley tomorrow. I can't wait.

Fallen Solider

Please check out my friend Matt's blog for a tribute to his cousin. It amazes me how people can pick up and carry on with hope. As I said to Matt, thanks be to God.

Just so you know...

Sitting in a hot tub when the wind chill is 13 below zero, is not a great idea.

Why?

Because the wind chill is 13 below zero.

Still fun, but not a great idea.

Tease

It's days like this that remind me of why Spring is my favorite season. The mild air, the warmth on my face, the blowing wind, a storm moving in from the west...I wanted to stay outside or at least sit by a window and watch. Instead, I'm in a hole staring at a calendar which reminds me I have a few months left to go (sigh).

Soooo.....

Remember how I was complaining about pizza? Well, I went to a meeting yesterday having no idea I was going to get another free lunch out of Valassis and....we had Mr. Pita.

Of course, I deemed this an act of God because he loves me so much. I mentioned this to some guys in our shipping department and one of them said, "Oh, so God will allow 150,000 people die in a Tsunami and he'll make sure you get Mr. Pita for lunch (laughter at how naivee I am)."

"Well...I don't think God ever left us to go to the other side of the world and watch 150,000 people die. I don't think he has bigger fish to fry than to deal with my little life. I understand that in the scope of human thinking a tsuanmi is more important and tragic than me not getting the right lunch. But....he's God. He's a lot smarter than me so bottom line is I don't know. But how could it be a coincidence?"

That's what I wanted to say, anyhow. Really, I just said yes.

Mystery

Ben (my former supervisor/present day friend) and I used to e-mail each other a lot. I was looking through some old e-mails yesterday, found this one, decided to post it because it made me laugh. I shall post more things I find funny as I see fit. My blog. Meow.

B: What's up HB?
H: Eating a lunch I can’t stand and looking for a new car. What about you?
B: Pissing away another day at valassis.
H: My days of pissing are over, I think. My job is in and ready to control my life.
Have you ever rebelled against yourself?
B: I think I've been through periods of rebellion with myself. What about you?
H: I’m really rebelling against myself right now. I’m forcing myself to eat this food and I can hear….I guess I hear my other self screaming, crying, resisting my efforts to eat it instead of throwing it out. I keep telling myself things like, “if you don’t eat it, you’ll be hungry later and I’m not feeding you again until dinner,” or “there are starving people all over the place and you’re going to throw away perfectly healthy food?” But then, my other self back talks me. “I know if I’m hungry you’ll feed me before dinner” and “if there are starving people all over the place, send the lunch to them!” I’m so lenient with myself. But no! Not this time! I won’t let me get away with it…..well, I'll at least eat half.
B: You are hilarious!! I would love to hear more of this inner dialogue and the other subjects that you argue with yourself about.
H: I can’t talk anymore. I just grounded myself. Of course, knowing me, I’ll rebel.
B: You should sneak out after your otherself goes to sleep. I'll meet you at the corner.
H: I know I would get caught. My other self is a light sleeper. I hate microwave meals. They always seem like such a good idea at the time.
Up for a little BS tomorrow?
B: I think the question is are you up for a little BS?
H: Almost always. Do you think I should get a 2000 Chevy Astro Cargo or a 1988 Chevy Bonaventure.
B: I think you should ride your bike instead.
H: No, I want a van. One of those old types like the Mystery Machine.
B: Are you going to solve mysteries?
H: No, I’m going to build them.
B: Then you're not the one that needs the van.
H: Oh. Then I want a Mazda 6.
B: I think if you are building mysteries you should drive one of those little mini coopers. That seems like a mystery building type car. Either that or an Impala.
H: The first mystery to solve is why I ever bought that car.
B: I thought it was because Joey told you it was a good idea.
H: I guess the mystery is why I listened, then.
B: Because you are sometimes impressionable.

That's two mysteries solved. I think I need that van.

Being the brat that I am....

That whole Dying To Self thing? Yeah...might be a little unrealistic for me. For the second time in a week, our CEO ordered pizza for all three Michigan locations. The first thing out of my mouth was, "Man, can't we get Mr. Pita or something?" (laughter from the cubes around me). Then, after I got a couple of pieces, I said, "I can't stand Papa Romano's or Jetts. Why do we always have to get these sub-standard pizza joints?"

See....see how I really am? It wasn't enough that I had food...or that it was free...it wasn't good enough for me. I kept sitting there trying to change my heart but as the second napkin was soaking up the grease from my slice, I decided I didn't really want to put it into my body. I made it through one piece and then I ate a Clementine. Mmmmmm....much better.

Anyhow, I have a ways to go on the whole selfish thing. Being a brat just comes so natural to me :o) I bet all of you can agree.

Just in case you were wondering...

I can't really blog from work. Sometimes when I get a break but last week was the pits--sooo busy. What I end up doing is blogging at home, writing out my thoughts in Word and then I come to Mr. Pita to use their wireless internet. I'm going to start using my jump drive, though but I like coming to Mr. Pita once every couple of weeks. The owner, Anthony, always smiles and waves, makes sure the wireless connection is up. Good man.

I wanted to update about the trip home from Chicago. It was awesome. We listened to Shattered which I love but I think it was just kind of okay for Beks and Ry (who was still sleeping it off). We listened to the teaching on Homosexuality after that. I was soooo nervous because Ry is such a liberal guy and the attitude is "if it feels good, do it" kind of. The teaching was ending with just the prayer left so I switched it over to Becky's IPod to listen to music. Suddenly, Ryan piped up, "I like listening to Noel. Where did he go?" "Oh, it was just the prayer at the end, Ry but we can finish it." So we did. Then Ry said, "I like Noel. He's like a really good professor."

I drove the whole way home (and only freaked out once when driving through Chicago) with Beks as my co-pilot. We had a mini church session in the car, listening to Riverview teachings and then to Becky's old time Christian songs like Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith. It was actually way cool. We also played "Stump Holly" with me trying to guess songs within the first 5 seconds. I didn't do as well as when Joey tried to stump me with 80s music. I had a lot of fun, though and I love Becky and Ry to pieces. They are truly among my bestest, closest friends.

Willingness

The teaching at Riverview yesterday knocked me over the head. It was another one of those that held my attention and I swore I could hear Jesus talking to me himself.

I walked into church and went to check out my Rivkids schedule. I was approached by someone who wanted to have a conversation with me about this possibility at Riverview…this possible opportunity.

Joey asked me, “What are you going to do?”

My response was that I didn’t know because I didn’t know the details. However, I said that if this opportunity required me to quit my job and move back, I just didn’t think I could do it. After all, Valassis is an awesome company to work for. I get my bonus next month and have worked fairly hard to earn what I earn. Also, I love where I live and I love my roommate. On top of that, I think I might kind of be reaching my friends…and I just don’t think I could leave them.

And then Steve opened his big mouth…. :o)

Do I have a willingness? Can I really trust God with everything? Can I submit to authority, take risks for God and be truly authentic?

Oh geez. Why now? I’ve been kind of praying about it but gosh, golly…why would the opportunity be considering me…me thinking there was no way…and 15 minutes later…I feel so full of courage and scared crap-less all at once.

A couple of ideas really got me. Peter took a risk by getting out of the boat. Everyone else waited in the boat to see. In relating it to my life, I was the first one out of the boat. Well, I think I saw Joey outside of it and I wanted to be there, too. I was a little scared of failure and a lot scared of rejection but in my heart, my friends weren’t going to change my mind.

Jesus looked at Peter in the beginning. Jesus looked at Peter in the end. Those two sentences have new meaning now that I know the definition of look (to look with your mind). Jesus saw something in Peter. He saw something in us. God uses the shaky people who don’t have their acts together. Kind of a relief. See, on Saturday, I was at my cousins and they were talking about the Scott Peterson trial. My cousin-in-law (a Christian) stated that Scott got what he deserved: an eye for an eye. Me, being the baby Christian and pulling from my Route 66 knowledge said, “I thought that was the OT way of doing things?” “You can’t throw out the OT. It’s in the Bible.” (what I meant was that I thought Jesus changed that way of thinking but I couldn’t really say what I meant). So then we get into this mini-debate where my cousin-in-law tells me that the two things God hates the most are sodomy and idoltry. I was a little confused because I thought God hated the destruction of something made in his image. I realized I might not know what I was talking about, Jerry really seemed to want to debate, and I left the situation. I don’t like to debate Jesus. Ask me a question and I’ll try to answer it…but I am not equipped with a lot of answers…and that is how God uses me.

Yes, I’ll get this all straightened out with time. The more I read the Bible the more I might understand. But I see sometimes how God uses my imperfections or my pain. My grandma, whom I loved oh so dearly, died and I made a DVD. Because of her death, it occurred to me that I might be able to do this for other people…and I’m reaching out to them.

Two last thoughts:
Are you willing to be different for Jesus?
Give what you can’t keep to gain what you cannot lose.
Maybe I will take this risk to serve others. Not so sure yet but I’m going to have the conversation. I’m also more excited than ever to go on some kind of mission. Shoot, if I can face my friends in the bar, I think I might be ready to go out into the world, even if I fail and am rejected. As I was taught today, “Jesus’ reputation is worth it.”

Thanks for opening your big mouth, Steve.

Project KMM

There was this girl…she was 14-years-old. I was 11-years-old. She was the coolest person I had ever met. I wanted to be just like her. After knowing her for 7 months, she died of a brain tumor. She went fast. She went young. She left behind so many people.

On March 3, it will be 17 years since Kim died. I lost touch with her sister and her father, but last year, I found Howard again. I was sad to learn he has two pictures of his daughter. Just two. This is where I step in.

My cousin and I put a DVD together of my Grandma. It is beautiful. It occurred to me that Kim’s family should have one of Kim. I prayed. I asked God to help me with this project. In fact, I told him I wasn’t going to do it without him. So God opened doors.

I called Kim’s sister, Karen. She is a few months younger than I am and we hadn’t seen or spoken to each other in 15 years. At first, she was a little hesitant about me wanting to pull a memory video together, only because she didn’t quite understand. And then, the tears, the excitement, the appreciation.

I have my work cut out for me so I would appreciate prayers, though I know there are plenty of other things to pray about. Still, this is the first project I have done with God…I mean, the first one I have asked him to partner with me. I met with Karen on Saturday night and scanned in 52 pictures. We need more, though. Karen got on the phone to some people and has really put the wheels in motion. She is awesome and really, I love her involvement. This project is coming together.

My due date is Kim’s birthday 8/17. I hope to interview people, get their memories down but the goal is to not let the sun go down on Kim’s memory.

Kimberly Marie Morris

Saturday's Alright

I had three people call me to go out on Saturday night. Brand and Meeelissa were in Novi and wanted to hang out. Dana was celebrating her 29th birthday in Novi. Tracy, my sorority sis, was also having her 30th birthday party in Novi. I could have gone to all three—this never happens to me. I should have jumped at the chance to do it…so what did I do Saturday night?

*Hung out with my aunt’s family while they celebrated Christmas.
*Scanned pictures into my computer of a girl who has been dead for 17 years.
*Sat in a hot tub until 1:00 a.m. while watching a dog named Cain play with the neighbor dog in the snow, laughing at two kittens who were desperately trying to see what was going on outside (but only ripping the curtains down), and having conversations with God and Joey.

Fun times as I approach 29 :o)

Dying to Self by Bill Britton

When you are forgotten or neglected, or purposely set at naught, and you don't sting and hurt with the insult or the oversight, but your heart is happy - being counted worthy to suffer for Christ; THAT IS DYING TO SELF

When your good is evil spoken of, when your wishes are crossed, your advice disregarded, your opinions ridiculed, and you refuse to let anger rise in your heart, or even defend yourself - but take it all in patient loving silence; THAT IS DYING TO SELF

When you lovingly and patiently bear any disorder, any irregularity, any unpunctuality, or any annoyance ... when you can stand face to face with waste, folly, extravagance, spiritual insensibility - and endure it as Jesus endured it; THAT IS DYING TO SELF

When you are content with any food, any offering, any raiment, any climate, any society, any solitude, any interruption - by the will of God; THAT IS DYING TO SELF

When you never care to refer to yourself in conversation, or record your own good works, or itch after commendation - when you can truly love to be unknown; THAT IS DYING TO SELF

When you can see your brother prosper and have his needs met, and honestly rejoice with him in sprit without envy or question of God - while your own needs are far greater and in desperate circumstance; THAT IS DYING TO SELF

When you receive correction and reproof from one of less stature that yourself, and can humbly submit inwardly as well as outwardly - finding no rebellion or resentment rising up in your heart; THAT IS DYING TO SELF

ARE YOU DEAD YET? In these last days the Sprit would bring us to the Cross."That I may know Him ... being made conformable to His death"

Bed Time Story

I know. I'm a blogging fool tonight. It's just that Beks is sleeping upstairs and the boys are out playing Golden Tee Live. I am blogging and watching the first episodes of old TV shows on TV Land. I just watched the first episode of the Andy Griffith Show. It actually made me tear up a little...and laugh a little. But I've been a little emotional all day. Want to know why??? Do you really want to know???? Ahhhh.....sure you do. Of course you do! You see, you've read my other posts, almost fell asleep, and thought, "this one ought to do the trick." So, get tucked in...here we go.

We went out to watch the Rose Bowl. Bek and I didn't really want to go but we did. By the end of the 1st quarter, there were no boys to be found near us...they were playing Golden Tee. Bek and I laughed about it and then I asked her a question: after 6 years of dating Ryan, did she think he would propose this year.

This one question opened up a whole evening of intimate discussions about love, friendship, and faith. I was shocked at how interested and open Bek was about my decision to become a Christ follower and the changes I had to make in my life. Well, I wasn't too shocked. She has always been pretty supportive...but I was surprised by something else...it was the way in which we both spoke and listened. It was definitely God in action.

I see something in Becky. I see how she wants a closer relationship with God. I know he wants one with her and maybe, just maybe, he'll use me to bring him to her. And maybe, just maybe, she'll accept him and draw nearer. But maybe it will be awhile still.

Something else that was pretty cool was that the boys joined in the conversation a little bit, too. Ryan started questioning me about the timeline of the bible. I got really nervous and explained I didn't have a lot of the answers. I tried to say I was still a toddler Christian...still wetting my pants-type-Christian. I took a deep breath, said a little prayer, and I believe God and I handled his questions pretty darn well. I think Ryan thinks that if his questions about the history of the bible are answered, then he can really, truly believe. Our answer to him? I still have unanswered questions. At some point, you have to give it up to God and just have faith. But maybe he could start studying the bible and find answers he's looking for.

Oh, and I invited Beks and Ry to Riverview. They were totally down with it. Really excited. Tomorrow, on our way home, I'm going to ask if we can listen to Shattered and see what they say. I certainly don't want to push my beliefs down their throats and I really don't want to push Riverview down their throats...but I want them to have a relationship with God, invite him to their relationship and maybe even finally make that big, leap.

Oh, and Becky was really interested in being invited to my blog...so I'm going to. She will be the only person from that part of my life with access to it. I'm almost fully represented now.

Okay, I'm tired now. Just watched the first episode of Leave It To Beaver. I never realized how funny these shows are. Now, I'm watching the first episode of Sanford & Son but I think it's time for bed. So wake up and go.

Behaved? Controlled?

The past few days have been good, better than I imagined. Last night went well. We went to an Irish bar, had food and drinks, danced and laughed and I'm happy to say I was in bed by 1:30--and I wasn't drunk.

I was a little nervous about hanging out with this group of friends. Since my decision (in April) to not get drunk anymore, I haven't really been in this kind of situation with them. They are my closest friends and have been since college. The issue is that my friends are pretty heavy drinkers and I was, too. Not to say I drank a ton during the week and every weekend. It was just when we all got together, it was drink after drink after drink. And I'm also not saying it was just because of them. I did it with all my friends because most of my friends are drinkers. Soooo....I think I need to start from the beginning...with the end.

I went to my cousin Greg's wedding in April. I had recently listened to Noel's message about alcohol. I ignored that same message during the reception. My dad and I were egging each other on and the wine was flowing. I went to Joey's after the reception and got sick...really, really sick. I cried, I felt sorry for myself, I puked...and then I cried out to God. I didn't want to do this anymore. I wanted to have control. I wanted to truly be a Christ follower. I wanted to glorify God. I also didn't want to hurt my body.

That was the last time and so far, I've had the control I need. It's true that I could have quit cold turkey and I will if I feel alcohol controlling me. So far, so good. One of the true tests was this weekend with Andy, Ry, and Bek. I had a few drinks over a 5 hour period and probably way too much water. Beks later admitted that she had confided to Andy that she was concerned about me...concerned I wouldn't have enough fun because I wasn't tossing them back. But today she told me something different: "you're still the same Holl." Well...yeah. I mean, I was cutting it up on the dance floor, I was laughing hysterically, I was eating like I would never eat again....but I can see why she was concerned. It is scary when the people we know so well make drastic changes in their lives. I believe my progression has been slow, though.

I'm still a party girl, just not a drunk one. I'm more of a behaved party girl, well, not tonight. Tonight I'm a stay-at-home-watching-TVLand-while her friends are out drinking and watching football-except for Beks who is sleeping already-blogging-type girl.