MY TITLES

The womens' movement was blossoming as I entered my adult years.   Many women married but refused to take on their husband's name.  Liberation meant no bras and no titles that bound you to anyone.  Guess it smacked of slavery remnants.


Through the years, however, I've held several titles because of someone else.  I was Elbert Tippett's daughter.  When he dressed up in his Navy whites with all his officer's medals, I was proud to be his kid.

I graduated from college on Thursday and was granted my BA then three days later was presented with my Mrs. title.  Even before that wedding day I tried on the wife title.  Doug and I went to hear a debate between Madalyn Murray O'Hair and the preacher of Bourbon Street, Bob Harrington.  We filled out visitor cards and although I was engaged, I penciled in my upcoming title, MRS. DOUG HENDERSON, just so I'd receive junk mail with my new name on it.  It felt good to write it.


When we moved to Kinston, NC, it actually shocked me when a church teenager from our first youth group called me, "Mrs. Henderson."  I forgot to answer for awhile.  They were only a few years younger and I'd been Kathy, Tip's daughter, all my life.


Ah, then came my coveted title, Mama.  I earned that one three times.  You know anything beginning with labor ain't gonna be easy.  I wore that title like a World Federation wrestler, a badge of survival.  


The reward for that was my next title, Nana.  I fought for that one too.  "I want to be called Nana, to distinguish me from J.D.'s grandma on the Grainger side," I informed Kimberly before the birth of our first grand.


"Mama!  It sounds like BAnana to a kid.  They'll be confused, thinking you're a fruit!" she chided. It didn't change my mind.  If they were confused, it wasn't over my Nana title.


When my mother met her first great grandchild, her grandson, Brian, smiled proudly, proclaiming her new title, "Now you're a GREAT grandmother!"


"I always was," she smiled right back.


Our church daycare kids treat my husband like a rock star when they see him walk down a hall.  "HE-EEEEYYYYY, Mr. Doug!" one starts.  Then a chorus chants along, "Hey!  Mr. Doug!" over and over until he stops and hugs or high-fives the little knee-clingers in his very own mosh pit.  My face is not as familiar to them.  But recently I was in the fellowship hall with him and his chorus line started.  They realized I was his wife and as I left, one little girl handed me this:

"I LOVE YOU, MRS. DUG"

     
It earned a coveted position on our refrigerator gallery, with the grandkids' artwork.
                       
Now that I think about it, this is my favorite title.   Mrs. Dug, without an o.   It's the one that lasts a lifetime, til death do us part.  She didn't know my name but she knew I belonged to my beloved.


Rather than ownership or loss of identity, I find my titles through the years signify my relationships.   At the end of this journey I believe I'll be glad I invested my life in people over job.   People who call me sister, friend, mama, encourager, Nana, Honey.  I'll take that over CEO any day!


But the bra burning. . .I could still go along with that.


Truly liberated in Christ to be me,
Kathy

NO WONDER ENGLISH IS SO HARD TO LEARN!

 If you've visited my blog much, you know by now that I am intrigued with words.  I enjoy word games, etymology (word study. . .not entomology, bug study!) writing, plays on words, puns and reading.  God just wired me that way.  I also enjoy talking.  I'll blame Him for that too!

English is one of the more difficult languages to learn.  We have piano students from Japan, China and Taiwan who all agree that American idioms and quirks are sometimes confusing.  Even to us!  Consider the following examples sent to me by a friend.  You may have to say them aloud to get the contrast in pronunciations.

IT TAKES A WORRIED MAN (OR WOMAN)

Anyone else remember that old song?  You'll hear it at the end of this blog.

It takes a worried man 
to sing a worried song.

I'm a-worried now 
but I won't be worried long.

When our three children were home I worried about many things from their health to their futures.  When they entered their futures I found new worries about them, like their safety on the road traveling home for vacations.

This week I had several conversations with friends proving I'm not alone in my worries.  

"I'm worried about my job security.  This economy is tough.  It's chewed and spit out friends of mine."

"My son used to go to church.  He nearly died last week in the hospital.  I'm worried about his spiritual condition."

"I'm concerned about our church.  It all seems to be unraveling.  Everything's just coming apart."

"My daughter's being bullied.  It's hard to watch that and not want to punch someone out!"

Everyone has worries.  But one voice reminded me what to do with them.

"I started praying about this everytime it came to mind, instead of worrying or griping about it.  God answered my prayer today.  Someone who wasn't speaking to me came up and hugged me."  He knew God alone had healed a broken relationship.

A mother wrote about her worries for a son on a wrestling team who was traveling through a snow storm.  

I've struggled with this issue of worry over my children's safety since they were born. Because of my tendency to worry, I have the potential to be over-protective. However, years ago, God revealed to me that my fears were born more out of my lack of trust than a healthy concern. The truth was I believed my children were only safe when they were in my care. The reality of this fallen world is my children are only safe in the care of God.

Many of us will deal with anxiety over our children's safety, as well as countless other things. Instead of being overcome with worry, I've learned to identify the worries that come when I've misplaced my trust. It prompts me to pray more, trust more, and enjoy more of life with my children. By the way, my son and his wrestling team made it home safely that day and my prayer life has been stronger ever since.

Don't wait half a century to learn the lesson I finally did.  The choice is simple:

WORRY or PRAY

It's a habit either way and takes a conscious effort to change.  As I asked God to help me with this struggle, He did.  I'm pretty worry free now.  When I feel those old tendancies wrap tentacles around my heart, I pray.   Immediately.

Sometimes when I share this with my fellow worriers the first thing out of their mouths is, "Yeah, but. . ."

• my problem is unique
• this person is just so _________
• the diagnosis was bad
• it's been going on so many years
• the addiction is so strong
• I've tried everything to fix it
• I'm just sick and tired of

To my fellow Yeah-Buts, be reminded that your problem, crisis, circumstance or person in God's hands is

• not unique
• redeemable
• healable or manageable

And God 

• is long-suffering, not limited by time
• can break addictive strongholds or free you from enabling
• can fix it (He's God.  You're not.)
• is never sick or tired.  His mercies are fresh daily.  Release it!

Truth is easy to understand.  Solutions can be simple in our heads.  However, ACTION takes intention and consistency!  Start today.  Pray your worries into God's capable hands.  Then leave them there.  Shift. 


Watch Him work

• His way
• on His timetable (which may seem slow to you, but He's right on time)
• without your help or interference
• when your only words about it are in prayer (not griping, nagging or gossiping)

God is bigger than cancer, addictions, pain, financial loss, adultery, abandonment, relational problems, depression, even family traveling on interstates!  Nothing is too hard for Him.   When you hand it over, you'll feel freer, lighter, less judgmental, less critical, less burdened with worry and full of hope, joy and trust.  Pretty good swap I've found!


This old song is quite a throwback (reminds me of O Brother!  Where Art Thou?)  It's the first song Rod Stewart learned to play on guitar.  
It Takes a Worried Man by The Stanley Brothers:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mMJz-puzniU&feature=related

Carefree Kathy
Casting all your cares on Him because He cares for you.

OUT OF WHACK

Doesn't "expecting the unexpected" make the unexpected expected?

Why is the third hand on a watch called the second?

Why does "fat chance" and "slim chance" mean the same thing?

Why do tug boats push their barges?

Why do we sing "Take me out to the ballgame" when we're already there?

Why are they called "stands" when they're made for sitting?

Why is it called "after dark" when it's really after light?

If a word is misspelled in the dictionary, how would we ever know?

If Webster wrote the first dictionary, where did he find the words?

Why is phonics not spelled the way it sounds?

If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?

Why do you press harder on the buttons of a remote control when you know the batteries are dead?

Why do we put suits in garment bags and garments in suitcases?

Why do we wash bath towels? Aren't we clean when we use them?

Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?

Why do they call it a TV set when you only have one?

Why do we park on the driveway and drive on the parkway?

Why do we say something is out of whack? What's a whack?

Slightly out of whack,

Kathy

PET MOURNERS

Finding a marketing niche in this economy is tricky and tough.  Recently I heard a success story of a land-owner making a go in pet funerals.  

We had many of those in our back yard as the kids grew up in Raleigh, NC.  

A little wooded area behind our house was the scene of eulogies for a rabbit, a dog and several gerbils.  It was a non-profit organization back then.  Here are a few memories of those pets in happier days.

Doug built this tree house and slide.

I just got off the phone with Mary, our daughter-in-law, as she described the death of their cat, SC.  It's pronounced Essey but stands for Scaredy Cat, aptly describing her nature.  After 13 years, she no doubt had lived out her nine lives and was loved, even before the arrival of their four children.  Sean, the oldest, even took her picture to class to share her passing at Show and Tell.  Caroline cuddles SC here.


Mary's description of the last moments of the cat's life broke my heart, "She struggled to walk but kept flopping.  I couldn't watch it so Kent took her to the family room.  He gently held and stroked her, telling her what a good kitty she'd been all these years.  Then she made a strange, haunting sound and died."  


Suddenly I burst into tears! Mary seemed startled.  I know I was.  


I'm not really even a pet person but when someone I love hurts, I feel their pain.  My 6'5" son was once again a little boy in my mind.  I saw him with his two sisters tell their beloved dog goodbye.  Dusty was hit by a car and we had to put him to sleep.  Years later all three kids would tell you their saddest day was on the way to the vet that last time.  I cried then too.



One night at church my sister-in-law, Gwen, told me, "Bumbus died."  (Bumpus was a black cocker spaniel my brother worked for during his college years.  He couldn't afford to buy her from the old lady, Mrs. Bumpus.  So he did chores for her until he earned the pup, named after his benevolent employer.)  I looked across the room at church and saw Ricky hiding his pain in conversation with folks who didn't know his loss.  I guess it's not something grown men share.  But my brother was hurting deeply.  I saw through his mask. 

Daddy loved Bumpus too.

I burst into tears as Gwen told me about it.  Then she burst into tears.  So we did what women do, we ran for the ladies' room where we dissolved into that strange mix of crying and laughter.  It was reminiscent of the graveyard scene in Steel Magnolias.  I wanted to hit Weezie!


"Gwen, I didn't even like Bumpus!  Why am I crying?"


"I know.  Me too," she commiserated.


I had just written the above words when another animal death was reported to me during Phyllis' piano lesson with Tina.  Her younger brother, Kevin, came to hang around.   He played in our front yard then came in with, "Mrs. Henderson, a bird died in your pond.  I made a grave for him."  So I went outside and saw the little yellow finch in a 6" grave as Kevin tenderly covered the bird.  




Later I came back out and saw the circle of rocks placed around the fresh dirt.  Three little sticks stood upright respectfully.  Kevin used what he could find in our front yard.

If God sees the sparrow fall, then he saw the yellow finch that day too.  It reminded me to "look at the birds of the air.  They do not sow or reap or store in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not much more valuable than they?"




Yes, I am.  He delights in me, collects my tears in a bottle, knows my daily hair-count and sings over me!

So if times get tough, I think I may have found my calling.  I could be a pet mourner.  I think it was pretty standard fare in biblical times.  Hired mourners would weep and wail following the body through town to fake love for some unknown, but well-paying, deceased. 

Being a pet lover is not required.  Real tears are.  I can do that!

Because I love people,

Kathy

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lEH8VDhze7k&feature=related

PARAPROSDOKIANS

A paraprosdokian is a figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence or phrase is surprising or unexpected in a way that causes the reader or listener to reframe or reinterpret the first  part. It is frequently used for humorous or dramatic effect, sometimes producing an anticlimax.

• I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn't work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.

• Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience.

• I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my grandfather. Not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.

• Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.
• The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it's still on the list.
• Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.
• If I agreed with you we'd both be wrong.
• We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public.
• War does not determine who is right - only who is left.
• Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.
• The early bird might get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

• Evening news is where they begin with "Good evening," and then proceed to tell you why it isn't.
• To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is research.

• A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk, I have a work station.
• How is it one careless match can start a forest fire, but it takes a whole box to start a campfire?
• Some people are like Slinkies ... not really good for anything, but you can't help smiling when you see them fall down the stairs.
• 
• Dolphins are so smart that within a few weeks of captivity, they can train people to stand on the very edge of the pool and throw them fish.
• I  thought I wanted a career, turns out I just wanted pay checks.
• Whenever I fill out an application, in the part that says "If an emergency, notify:" I put "DOCTOR."
• I didn't say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.
• I saw a woman wearing a sweat shirt with "Guess" on it ... so I said, "Implants?"

• Behind every successful man is his woman. Behind the fall of a successful man is usually another woman.
• A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.
• You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute to skydive twice.
• 
  
• 
• The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some good ideas!
• Always borrow money from a pessimist. He won't expect it back.
• A diplomat is someone who can tell you to go to hell in such way that you will look forward to the trip.
• Hospitality:  making your guests feel like they're at home, even if you wish they were.
• Money can't buy happiness, but it sure makes misery easier to live with.
• Some cause happiness wherever they go. Others whenever they  go.
• There's a fine line between cuddling and holding someone down so they can't get away.
• I used to be indecisive. Now I'm not sure.
• When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the Fire Department usually uses water. 
• You're never too old to learn something stupid.



Old dog, new trick!

• To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target.
• If you are supposed to learn from your mistakes, why do some people have more than one child?
• Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

A few well known folks like to use paraprosdokians too:

• "He was at his best when the going was good." —Alistair Cooke on the Duke of Windsor

• "There but for the grace of God— goes God." —Winston Churchill

• "If I am reading this graph correctly—I'd be very surprised." —Stephen Colbert

• "You can always count on the Americans to do the right thing—after they have tried everything else." —Winston Churchill

• "If all the girls who attended the Yale prom were laid end to end, I wouldn't be a bit surprised." — Dorothy Parker

• "I've had a perfectly wonderful evening, but this wasn't it." —Groucho Marx

• "A modest man, who has much to be modest about." —Winston Churchill

• "I like going to the park and watching the children run around because they don't know I'm using blanks." —Emo Phillips

• "If I could say a few words, I'd be a better public speaker." —Homer Simpson
• I haven't slept for two weeks, because that would be too long." —Mitch Hedberg

• "I sleep eight hours a day… and at least ten at night." –Bill Hicks
• "She looks as though she's been poured into her clothes, and forgot to say 'when'." —P. G. Wodehouse

FEAR OR FAITH?

Today's modern parent may be well-educated but sometimes lacks wisdom, what Grandma called horse sense.  Media and consumerism seem to drive research and reporting into the fast Fear Lane.  Many buy into it and then BUY!  Translation: I just want my child to be safe. I want my family to eat healthy.  I want my house to be hazard free.  Life is lived out of fear! And fear sells. . .headlines and products.


According to today's philosophy it's a sheer miracle we baby boomers reared our kids successfully without seat belts, car seats, bike helmets, vitamins, water-purifiers, in the sunshine,  without hand sanitizer, in shopping carts and drinking tap water! Remember spit baths?  Horrors!   I'm not proposing ignorance, just balance.


What happened to faith in God to equip us without reacting to every report and rearing children in a fear-based atmosphere?  
Those parental fears are reflected in little faces and grow right into their adulthood.
  
Be careful, Honey, that could hurt you!  Don't put that in your mouth--germs!  Wash your hands!  Don't drink that, eat that, breathe that!


As kids, we had ghost stories.  As adults, we have health stories.  I'm not buying it!  I think we might be raising a generation of ill-equipped, frightened, nervous children who drown in meltdowns and tantrums because of adult emotional whirls.  The more fearful the parent, the more it's mislabeled love.  Is it really doing "what's best" for a child?  Or is it a futile grasp for control where release to God in faith might be the better choice.  

   Two facts: 

           1. There is a God.

 2. It's not me.

We wrestled with it on a much smaller scale.  I remember mothers who were afraid of thunderstorms.  Try as they may, kids perceived and imitated  that fear.  Today adults' fears are amplified and multiplied (the "well-educated") and fill children's minds like steroids.   If the world is so full of horrible things that appear innocent but kill us, why are we living longer and in better health than ever?  Shouldn't all that bad stuff that's killing us have killed us by now?  


With all safety precautions in place, bad things happen and grace can still prevail, as this 30 second video startlingly proves:
http://www.todaysbigthing.com/ouch/2011/02/08?utm_source=newsletter&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=daily

There's evidence that germaphobes are actually sicker because they miss out on the good bacteria (yes, there is such a thing) by staying too clean!   The book Secrets of People Who Never Get Sick researches this counterpoint.  One lady even eats a little dirt by not washing vegetables in order to stay well!  Another extreme perhaps.  But stats can be made to prove most anything! 


The old Chinese proverb says,

"Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day.  

Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime."

Today that may have evolved into a new version,

"Give a man a symptom and he'll worry for a day.

Give him access to Google and he'll torture himself for a lifetime."

From my grandmotherly soapbox I challenge young parents to trust God and themselves more.  Trust the latest shocking studies less.  Pass along your faith, not fear.

Faith and fear cannot abide in the same tabernacle.

I offer you two more resources on the subject in links below.  The first is a one-minute humorous skit; the second is an article.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wzxlv5vdN9I

Readers' Digest carried an article on this subject (Nov. 2010) Is It Just Me?  The Petrified Woman!  While not necessarily a Christian soapbox, like mine, it still smacks of good old-fashioned horse sense.  For further reading find the article on page 57 at this link. http://www.scribd.com/doc/39502562/Reader-s-Digest-November-2010

In the grip of grace,

Kathy

I just read today's blog by a mother of 7, almost 8!  Alyssa has it in perspective and probably was forced not to freak out.  Read Resolved to Worship: http://resolved2worship.xanga.com/