WRESTLING WITH MY HUMOR

Even as a little girl, I knew I was different.  My family accepted, even embraced my humor and quirkiness.  My brothers were entertained by it, one eventually joining in at times.  Mama had a touch of it and Daddy just quietly smiled at my eccentricities.

However, when I became a pastor's wife the distinctions became amplified.  I did NOT fit the stereotypical model of a pastor's wife.  The word typical was barely in my vocabulary, much less my behavior!  

I tried.  At times.  It felt a bit like the ugly step sisters must have felt trying on Cinderella's tiny glass slipper!  Maybe it was more like David clanging around in King Saul's XXL armor.

 It didn't fit me.     

Sometimes I wondered why God made me this way.  He doesn't make mistakes so it must be me.  As a extrovert, I'd strain to appear more introverted in crowds. I wanted to be more like my elegant, ladylike friends.  

Quiet it down, Kathy!  Don't say that, even though it just popped into your brain and you think it's funny.  So I'd squeeze my big Type A personality into a small Type B girdle, but could only maintain it a few hours at church on Sundays.  Then along with my heels and bra, I quickly shed it once home.

Some of the ministerial staff we worked with over the years cringed but extended grace to me.  As the children flew from the nest, I wrestled less with my humor.  Their friends enjoyed it.  I began to accept it. My firstborn and nieces loved my eccentricities.  I had lots of cousins, aunts and uncles who were like me. Like the cowboy with diarrhea, it's all in the genes.  Thank you, family!


















Ricky began as a normal but somehow morphed into an occasional me. 










Reunions with family were where I could be fully me.  Then our baby girl, Katy, married Dave.  Once again a new family member shared my quirks.  Good fit!  He'd come right back at me and crack me up with his wit. Even now our Face Times are not normal. Normal is barely in Dave's vocabulary.















In my young adult brain I somehow thought I'd magically change, calm down into normalcy by age 50.  It came and went.  Nothing changed.  Except maybe my acceptance. A friend who knew me as a young mother recently commented on some Facebook antic of mine, "I'm glad you haven't changed in all these years."  Hm-mmmmm.  I tried to for so long.





Finally after years of trying to restrain myself, God gave me a pastor who seemed to not only tolerate or accept me but actually LIKED my humor.  While he didn't necessarily share it, he seemed to enjoy it.  So I loosened my restraints a bit, even on Sundays. Thank you, Dr. Mike.  With all your dignity, you blessed me to shed mine.  He even said as he retired, "I hope God gives me another Kathy in my future life." Wow!  He popped back up on my doorstep one day recently just to surprise me.  Glenda said, "You should get her back for all the times she got you!"  I love it.  And them.




Then God freed me up even more with another pastor who was JUST LIKE ME.  He'd banter right back at me during staff meetings.  Even from the pulpit he'd pick on me and I loved it.  Not just because humor is fun or funny but God was freeing me to be fully me.  Maturing in Him gradually revealed that He made me this way for a purpose.  Making people laugh is a good, healthy, healing purpose.  Thank you, Pastor Johnny.  As my last pastor in ministry, you gave me a wonderful gift.  You.  A different, quirky, eccentric man of God.


We even celebrate Easter with a "SHAZAM!" At my retirement he said, "You all think I cross the line of inappropriateness but Kathy dances on that line!"  I do.

So you want a moral to this story, clique as it is?  Then celebrate who you are.  Do so early in life.  Don't try to fit an image of anyone else.  You're not a mistake.  Your personality was shaped by God.  Your gifts were given by Him to encourage others and glorify Him. We all know that.  Yet we sometimes think we should all be somewhat the same. We're not cookie cutter images of God but reflect Him in His many faceted ways.  God loves diversity.  Look at the flowers!  Don't toil or spin.  

Chuck Swindoll wrote, "God does not call everybody to build temples. He calls some people to be soldiers.  He calls some people to do the gutsy work in the trenches.  He calls some people to compose and produce music.  God has all kinds of creative ways to use us--ways we can't even imagine and certainly can't see up there around the next bend in the road."   


If you prefer a quiet corner with a good book and find it too peopley out there, plop into a cozy chair and snuggle down!  Or if you, like me, suddenly find yourself drafted onto a stage by The Jersey Boys with a captive audience. . .KICK HIGH! 

BE fully who God made you to be!

TRANQUIL: MY WORD FOR THE YEAR 2020

Last year, in lieu of a New Year's resolution, I opted for a word.  It was SAVOR and I tried to live it.  Being fully present in each moment was my goal. Since the year was bulging with changes in our lives, we both wanted to be very intentional as we lived through some lasts.  

Doug carved the word onto a pallet board.

Read about it here.   SAVOR

We savored our last days of music ministry at Greenwood Baptist where we'd served for 22 years.  We cherished longtime friends as we said goodbye.  As we packed, we enjoyed our favorite restaurants (Stephanos) and stores (Home Goods for me and Lowe's for Doug.) We walked through the rooms of our house, remembering.  Savoring.

Today we are settled in Scotia Village retirement community, surrounded by new faces, neighbors, a smaller city, new menus and activities, many new churches to visit.  Read about that here.  MOVING  With so many opportunities ahead, I tell myself, "Slow down, Kathy. Breathe.  Wait before jumping into commitments."  So my word for this year is



While that word sounds inviting, my nature struggles against it.  It's a Type B person's word.  I'm definitely Type A.  I'm an extrovert entering the world of an introvert.  It's unnatural.  I'm a volunteer, hand-raiser, cheerleader, list-maker.  

Within days of moving into our new villa, I proclaimed confidently to Doug, "I'm not signing up for anything right now!"  Two hours later, after a couple of neighbors stopped by to visit, I became a member of the men's barbershop quartet.  MENS!  It went like this:

"Doug, we hear you sing and sure could use a tenor for the Christmas program."

Doug spoke back too quickly in a deeper than normal voice, "I'm a baritone."

The bass singing visitor turned to me with a smile, "I hear a woman singing tenor can blend."

And just like that I broke my own promise to myself.  We must have practiced half a dozen times on Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.  I admit, it was fun but it was also a one time commitment.  The Four Grandpas became Three Grandpas and a Nana for one evening.  One! (They don't give up easily and still try to enlist me to permanency.)

We are not rushing to join a church but are visiting many (Baptist, Methodist and Presbyterian so far) and enjoying worship from the pew.  I have not begun the many exercise classes here. (That particular procrastination is not as hard for me.)  I'm considering Yoga, Chair Volleyball, Water Aerobics, Bocci Ball, Strength Training.  We did try a one time dance class.  And we walk (usually to and from supper in the main building.)

TRANQUILITY for me means a much slower paced time alone with God.  My mornings pretty much revolve around coffee and Him.  More listening, less talking. Hymns without words.  More waiting, less rushing.   More stillness, less To-Do lists. More thankfulness, less requests.  No daytime TV. Of course retiring here allows me to do that.  I even toured the Holy Land virtually with Our Daily Bread videos.  Theologian and archeologist guide through amazing episode after episode!  

I'm learning to cope with and silence the guilt words of idleness, laziness, time-waster.  I'm truly embracing my Isle of Patmos season at Walden Pond.  This is new.  Foreign.  This is hard.  This is good.  Refreshing.  Internal growth is quiet, not bombastic.  Loving God more than learning about God.


Moving here was physically exhausting. Yesterday we organized 2 more closets, with mine yet to go!  So resting for now is good, prescribed by my Great Physician.  He's my daily Attending and I'm loving Him more and more, oozing gratitude for this season of life.  While I'm not yet knitting from a rocking chair nor drooling on myself, this feels right. For now.  It's a quiet prelude to whatever new ministry, church, responsibilities, relationships or pleasures He calls me.

HE calls me.

Right now friends, old and new, are calling me to "Sign up!"  

"You should start that Bible Study on Heaven you mentioned."

"Hey!  We need a pianist!"

"You'd love being part of our prison ministry to women."

"You play organ?  Great!  We need one."

"Come sing with us!"

When I answer them with, "When the Lord tells me what to do, I will," they grow silent and look skeptically at me. I've jumped ahead of Him in the past. And paid for it.

Today it's so common when you ask someone, "How ya' doing?" to hear them respond, "I'm just so BUSY!"  Busy has become the buzz word for life, importance, purpose.  I'm going the opposite direction for awhile.  Maybe not even going but in neutral, waiting.  It's a new road for me, maybe more of a path. Living in TRANQUILITY.

Mama was a wise woman and once advised me, "Kathy, you have 2 gears. . .wide open and neutral.  Be sure you spend enough time in neutral to offset the wide open."  

She was right. I host gatherings, plan church trips, have home Bible studies, buy tickets and invite folks to events, call friends to eat out.  I'm a people person.  But find myself peopleless most of the time now.  And it's OK. I've ministered from the piano bench Sundays since I was 13.  Wide open in music ministry for nearly 60 years!  Neutral is needed.  Strangely, I find myself simply playing my piano here at home more often.  Just me and Jesus.  Sometimes Doug.   He asked recently, "What's that song?"  It was There's Music in the Air.

There is.   Up above my head, there must be a God somewhere.

Doug will carve me another word to add to my porch chain.  Porch.  Another good place for tranquility. Haven't had a porch for 22 years.