Is there anyone that fails
Is there anyone that falls
Am I the only one in church today feelin’ so small
Cause when I take a look around
Everybody seems so strong
I know they’ll soon discover
That I don’t belong
So I tuck it all away, like everything’s okay
If I make them all believe it, maybe I’ll believe it too
So with a painted grin, I play the part again
So everyone will see me the way that I see them
Are we happy plastic people
Under shiny plastic steeples
With walls around our weakness
And smiles to hide our pain
But if the invitation’s open
To every heart that has been broken
Maybe then we close the curtain
On our stained glass masquerade
Is there anyone who’s been there
Are there any hands to raise
Am I the only one who’s traded
In the altar for a stage
The performance is convincing
And we know every line by heart
Only when no one is watching
Can we really fall apart
But would it set me free
If I dared to let you see
The truth behind the person
That you imagine me to be
Would your arms be open
Or would you walk away
Would the love of Jesus
Be enough to make you stay
Well if the invitation’s open
To every heart that has been broken
Maybe then we close the curtain
On our stained glass masquerade
Is there anyone that fails
Is there anyone that falls
Am I the only one in church today feelin’ so small
Stained Glass Masquerade, Casting Crowns Lifesong Album
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Happy Birthday, Sharon Mary!
Today is my mother-in-law Sharon’s first birthday to pass since she died on January 7, 2008. She would have been 63 today, September 6.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Never have those unwritten words had more meaning than this year. At the time it was taken, none of us would have imagined where we would travel together as a family over the next 4 years. Fortunately, those travels did include several more memorable camping trips together, but they also included a most unexpected turn on a journey of grief into completely unmapped territory.
This particular birthday was her 59th, celebrated with all but one of her children and their families at a campground in Alpena, Michigan. It was the day before Labor Day, and the day before her actual birthday, because we would be leaving to travel home the following day and there would be no time to celebrate.
I remember the weekend well with surprising clarity, at least little details. I remember that we all went down to the beach and Sharon played with the younger grandchildren making sand castles and such while some of the mom’s and dad’s ventured out to a water trampoline/slide out in the middle of the lake. I remember that Jeff and some of the brothers-in-law got up to go fishing with his parents at dawn on Sunday morning. I remember renting a pontoon and taking turns taking rides. I remember we ate all the meals together at our rented camper because we had the largest awning. I remember renting low-rider bicycles and doing all kinds of tricks with the kids. I remember laughing and laughing and laughing around the campfire as Meridith entertained us with Larry the Cable Guy impersonations and undoubtedly seeing Sharon shake her head and say, “That Meridith!”
We were all together and doing what we do best: laughing and making memories.
These pictures hold hilarious memories for those of us who were present. Notice the cake.
Jeff’s dad, Dave, aka Butch, had made a special trip out to WalMart to buy a cake to honor his bride on her special day. Upon his return to the campsite, as he was stepping up into their 5th wheel travel trailer carrying the cake, he somehow lost his footing and fell backwards down the steps, landing flat on his back on the ground. It was a miracle he was not seriously injured, but more miraculous was his effort to salvage the cake in the midst of his fall. It was smashed to smithereens on the inside of the lid, and I think a blade or two of grass might have sneaked in the side, but other than that it was entirely edible. I remember singing Happy Birthday with tears in my eyes because I had laughed so hard at how pathetic the cake looked, how filled with chagrin Jeff’s dad looked, and how tickled pink Sharon looked in spite of it all. Among other things, she was a good sport!
Happy Birthday, Sharon Mary! Thank you for the lessons your life has taught and still are teaching me, and all of us. We miss you and love you!
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Never have those unwritten words had more meaning than this year. At the time it was taken, none of us would have imagined where we would travel together as a family over the next 4 years. Fortunately, those travels did include several more memorable camping trips together, but they also included a most unexpected turn on a journey of grief into completely unmapped territory.
This particular birthday was her 59th, celebrated with all but one of her children and their families at a campground in Alpena, Michigan. It was the day before Labor Day, and the day before her actual birthday, because we would be leaving to travel home the following day and there would be no time to celebrate.
I remember the weekend well with surprising clarity, at least little details. I remember that we all went down to the beach and Sharon played with the younger grandchildren making sand castles and such while some of the mom’s and dad’s ventured out to a water trampoline/slide out in the middle of the lake. I remember that Jeff and some of the brothers-in-law got up to go fishing with his parents at dawn on Sunday morning. I remember renting a pontoon and taking turns taking rides. I remember we ate all the meals together at our rented camper because we had the largest awning. I remember renting low-rider bicycles and doing all kinds of tricks with the kids. I remember laughing and laughing and laughing around the campfire as Meridith entertained us with Larry the Cable Guy impersonations and undoubtedly seeing Sharon shake her head and say, “That Meridith!”
We were all together and doing what we do best: laughing and making memories.
These pictures hold hilarious memories for those of us who were present. Notice the cake.
Jeff’s dad, Dave, aka Butch, had made a special trip out to WalMart to buy a cake to honor his bride on her special day. Upon his return to the campsite, as he was stepping up into their 5th wheel travel trailer carrying the cake, he somehow lost his footing and fell backwards down the steps, landing flat on his back on the ground. It was a miracle he was not seriously injured, but more miraculous was his effort to salvage the cake in the midst of his fall. It was smashed to smithereens on the inside of the lid, and I think a blade or two of grass might have sneaked in the side, but other than that it was entirely edible. I remember singing Happy Birthday with tears in my eyes because I had laughed so hard at how pathetic the cake looked, how filled with chagrin Jeff’s dad looked, and how tickled pink Sharon looked in spite of it all. Among other things, she was a good sport!
Happy Birthday, Sharon Mary! Thank you for the lessons your life has taught and still are teaching me, and all of us. We miss you and love you!
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Mudslide
Thanks to David House Sr. of Lapeer Photography for these fabulous photos of Julia's fun this weekend. Click here to see the rest of the mudslide adventure.Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Monday, September 01, 2008
Kumbya
We camped this weekend with approximately 14 other families from our church. I must say, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it. I honestly was not looking forward to it...hardly at all. In fact, I was kind of dreading it. I knew it would be fun once we got there and settled, but all the preparation and packing and clean-up, and disrupted sleep in impossibly close quarters with a now notoriously, boisterously loud screeching toddler, along with lack of proper sanitation and hygiene opportunities for 3 days, and forced social interaction seemed like more work than I was up for this week.
But surprisingly...
The weather could not have been more perfect. We ate very well, okay that wasn't a surprise...we have some rockin' awesome cooks in our church. But I was able to bathe myself and my children daily. I didn't forget to pack a single thing that really mattered except my powder brush (thank you, Diane) and a couple kids' items (thank you, Dave). And much to my great delight, I had a TON of help with David (thank you EVERYONE!) from people who were remarkably tolerant of his volume. I got to sit around the campfire, sometimes even next to my husband, and visit and laugh with other adults into the wee hours of the morning while my children slept...like babies! I even managed to finish several sentences and amuse others at my own pitiful expense.
Most importantly, I connected with people. I don't make that a priority often enough and I suffer the consequences. Being a hermit is overrated. This weekend I feel as if I enjoyed genuine fellowship even though I loathe that word, and cannot believe I just typed it on my own blog. Most, if not all, of our interactions were less than sublime, yet I came away feeling much more connected to my church body as a whole, and therefore more committed to it...whereas going into the weekend, amputation was a thought not-so-very-far from my mind.
Among other things, I made some new friends. Some were humans, one was a guinea pig named Rosie. I learned some new songs, and remembered some old ones. I took some long walks and 3 turns on the "Blob". (See video below.)
And nobody sang "Kumbya".
We have already reserved the same spot for next year and I can't even wait!
(The first one is of me "blobbing" Andrew into the water...the second one is of me being "blobbed" by our pastor's daughter. Unfortunately, my best blobbing stunt, in which I was catapulted at least a dozen (slight exaggeration) feet in the air and landed horizontally, was not captured on video.)
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