NayNay72’s blog

If you could have personally witnessed one event in history, which one would you want to have seen?

The crucifiction of Jesus Christ. Not because I want to see that kind of brutality.  But because of the impact it would have on my life.  To have that first hand knowledge and experience of what He truly went through for me.  Because I can't imagine it.  I take it for granted.   I sometimes ignore it.  I sometimes re-crucifiy him when I forget just how forgiven I am. 

If you were to open up a business of your own, what would it be?
Submitted by beth.

Tuxedo Rentals.

They cost under $100 each, rent for about the same, thereby paying for themselves the first time.  The shoes rent for twice what they retail for in bulk.  The tuxes are easy to clean, easy to alter.  It's a no brainer.

Where, when, and with whom was your very first kiss?

My foyer, Feb. 1983 - Michael Johnson.  He is now a Pentecostal Holiness preacher and I thank God every single day that I did not marry him! There aren't enough elders to deliver me from the demons I would have been thought to possess.

Daylight Savings Time started at 2:00 a.m. today. What's your favorite thing about having more light later in the day?

First of all, who the hell decided Indiana was an Eastern state? WTH??? When we lived down South I used to love the summers because that was the only time of year I got up early.  I'd get up at the crack of dawn (sometimes before 5) every summer to do my most productive writing, reading and musing.  I feel like half my day is gone by the time the sun cokmes up here in the summer.

The bright side? My kids love it and there's something magical about seeing 16 kids running through my back yard with sticks and toy guns playing their war games at a quarter of 10.  So it's not all bad.  Stan also likes getting the extra hour with the kids.

Today is the first day of the Season of Lent. Are you giving anything up for the next 40 days?

There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ, according to Romans 8:1.  The finished work of the cross, the ultimate, perfect sacrifice of Jesus Christ covered my sins - once for all.  There is no room for my efforts, which are just my efforts.  I do however receive the free gift of love and grace and forgiveness that follow me every second of my life.  It is enough. 

The only time I can find Biblical precedence under the New Covenant for fasting is for the purpose of gaining wisdom as Jesus instructed the disciples when addressing delivering someone from demons.  Science backs this type of fasting in that when our bodies are deprived of food for more than three days a sort of hyper-intelligence hormone kicks in.  Science says it is because of the body's need to focus on finding food.  I like that God uses fasting as a way of quieting us to a point of total focus period.  But never do I find, after the finished work of the cross, a Biblical reference to fast to make atonement or just because it is tradition.  It is for this reason that I cannot join the practice.

Today is "Be Humble Day." What in your life are you most humble about?

Um...if I brag about what I'm humble about, then I'm probably not too humble about it, correct?

Fireproof, Tragedy and Coffee
Stan works with a guy from Argentina who lives in the apartment of a church in South Bend with his wife.  He invited us to watch the movie Fireproof at his church and we accepted the offer even though we have already seen the movie.  (It was a cheap night out without kids - wish I could say we had more noble intentions).
As I sat through the beginning of the movie I was already blogging in my head.  Butter yellow paint must have been on sale where the movie was shot because the hospital walls, the house walls (every room), the fire station walls - were all the same color.  I thought I would blog about those things and how the movie, while a little sappy, really was filmed with good intentions.  As a married woman I could relate to a lot of things in the pic as could Stan who wiped away tears.
All my ideas were abruptly interrupted by tragedy.
Two rows directly in front of us a woman began to make strange sounds.  She arched her head and back over the theater style seat, groaning.
"She's having a seizure."  Stan whispered.
The look on her husband's face told me otherwise.
"No she's not.  Her husband is asking her what's wrong."  The pained look on his face broke my heart.
Someone slightly raised the dimmer switch on the lights and paused the movie.  A nurse happened to be there and we learned the woman in distress, Cindy, was 20 weeks pregnant.
I heard things like "no history of problems" and "this looks like preclampsia".  A doctor was also there tonight and people struggled to move her between the bolted down theater seating to the aisle next to me.  People were praying quietly in their seats.  Then things went terribly wrong.  It took me a moment to realize that the doctor began CPR while calling out,  "Does anyone here know how to breath for her?"
A few people were on the phone to 911 while the doctor and two others worked at clearing her airway and administering CPR.  Her husband stood by lost somewhere between shock and his tears.
When the medics arrived they took over the CPR when one of the guys said, staccato fashion,  "That's it!" and cut off her blouse and bra.  They defibilated her then continued CPR while managing to get a vein to hook in the IV and fluids.  They shot it full of ephedrine not once but twice then I heard,  "Clear!" and defibbed her again. 
I remember being aggravated that one of the medics had to hold a flashlight for the longest time because we were all too numb to listen to common sense that kept pleading,  "Turn on all the lights for crying out loud!"  We all knew they needed more light but we all were frozen by the nonsense of it all.
Again there were snippets of "nothing" and "no vitals".  At one point the leads came loose and it showed signs of a pulse and the church broke into clapping and praise until one of the paramedics said,  "No, no - her leads came off.  Keep pushing! Don't stop!"
This entire scene lasted about 15 minutes before one of the medics said in frustration,  "Get her on the board." and took her away while her husband managed to, with help, follow behind in a confused stupor.
As all of this took place I did a lousy job at holding back tears.  So many thoughts ran through my head.  The hardest ones to deal with were my anger.  No history? She was, by all appearances -- fine? until what - the fragileness of life exploded in bits and pieces around us and the next thing we know she's on the floor having her clothes cut off while strangers pound her chest and cause her pregnant belly to heave with each determined push?
'God, you're supposed to...'
'Father, your Word says that by Jesus' stripes she is already healed...'
'Can't you...'
'This isn't right, God!'
What I couldn't quite put into words were,  "Why in the hell are You letting this happen? I know we live in a fallen world where an unseen enemy prowls about as a lion seeking whom he can kill, steal from and destroy.  So what? Aren't you bigger? Where are the miracles we all pray for?"
Those were the deeper thoughts I kept forcing myself to push down because somewhere I had to believe that God is loving and He was going to do something.
I got angry at the woman who sat beside her friend while he did the breathing (before the medics arrived) because she was shaking her head as though she had given up - as though it were too late for a miracle.
So I went back and forth between believing that we believe and wanting to scream at God for not making this go away.  And I felt like such a brat, such a loser for even acknowledging those things.
But this is life we're talking about.  And I remember saying in this long, in this short period of time how sick I am of death.  It is our enemy.  Couldn't God be done with all this already so we can live like we were meant to live - forever.  And that's when the tears flowed and that's when they stopped.
After they took her out the pastor asked us if we would all just pray for her and her husband Matt.  He asked if anyone knew them - someone did.  He asked if they attended church anywhere, they did.  He then said,  "I don't know what your church protocol is during moments like these, but if you could call your pastor perhaps..." and someone nodded, but I don't know if they did.
Then the pastor addressed us by saying that there were already counselors in an adjoining room for anyone who needed to talk.  He made the decision to resume the movie while freeing anyone who just wanted to leave to do so.  I wanted to leave.  I wanted to go home and hug all my children.  Stan didn't move.  As the matter of fact, hardly anyone did.  We all just sat in our seats and the movie resumed while I questioned the sanity of all of us who could just return to the night's entertainment.  What changed was that there were no more sounds of popcorn being crunched or candy wrappers crumpling. 
I fumbled in the dark for a pen and found the back of one of Stan's paychecks to write some of the words to a song that played during the movie.  "I will serve you while I'm waiting...I will worship you while I'm waiting..."
Can I do that? Can I serve while I wait for answers? Can I worship in awe and reverence and joy while I wait for answers? Can I do that having just watched a man lose his wife and child?
Then something remarkable happened.  At the end of the movie the pastor (whom I feel had actually acted in wisdom by continuing with the night's planned events) announced,  "Good news.  She is breathing on her own at the hospital.  Anyone who would like some coffee afterward can feel free to stay..."
When I got home I called the hospital not even knowing if I had gotten the names of these two strangers right and asked about her condition.  "She's in ICU room...."
I wish I could say that I understand God's ways, but who am I to understand? And who am I to get pissed off at him when life ends or goes horribly awry?
I've seen my fair share of miracles.  (Maybe that's why it's so hard for me to stand for not seeing them.)  Because I am always mad when they don't happen all the time.  Because I truly believe they should.  The sick should be healed, the dead should rise, peace should pass all understanding...It's not about how much faith we have, it's about what Jesus finished on the cross.  I just don't understand why we who follow Him who says we will do even greater miracles than He himself did while walking among us - don't.
In the midst of that I am thankful that Cindy is alive - her husband still has the woman he has chosen not to leave behind in the fire of life and they will face tomorrow together.
And I repent not for being mad, but for feeling like I'm a loser for being mad.  I think God welcomes my questions because He has answers - answers that aren't found in our microwave prayers before work or bed.  Answers that force us to dig deep.  I hope I'm diligent enough to do that.  I hope that I'm not so lazy as to let those questions lie dormant, without answers, while I glibly continue onto the night's entertainment...

I must say, I am absolutely amazed by how happily married I am. I once wrote Stan this homemade card that said  (front) "The only thing better than going to sleep next to my hero..." (inside) "Is knowing you wake up next to yours."
It's true. I never doubt how much he loves me - ever.  Not when he's muttering B words under his breath (yeah, I know he does), not when he yells,  "I'm not raising my voice! This is my normal tone!" (To which I reply that he's a horse's ass.) 
Someone recently lamented to her husband that he didn't treat her like Stan treats me.  She told him that Stan worships the ground I walk on.  She was right - he does and I know it.
I think what would surprise people is how very much we've been through.  How very ugly we have been.  The cruelty with which we have treated one another is reprehensible.  Yet, we have gotten through all the junk - together.  I have no doubt that more of it lies just around the next garbage pile of life.  But we'll get through that too.
I thought a lot about the comparisons the woman I previously mentioned made.  What makes us so in love with each other I wondered? Then last Sunday my pastor put into words what I haven't been quite able to put my finger on.  He said that the marriage covenant is not based on behavior.  Ain't it the truth?
I mean, look at kids.  I have four.  The oldest two have been hell on wheels.  Dr. James Dobson would have hung it up to have dealt with some of what we've gone through with those two.  But we love them, independent of their actions or behavior because they are OURS.  I think this is how God loves us - parenting and marriage are all prophetic statements of a loving God who loves us in spite of us. 
While our children are "ours" because they are genetically tied to us forever - our love for one another as husband and wife is purely choice.  I choose to love Stan when I would just as soon run him over with my car.  The love he lavishes on me isn't in the romantic gestures (because there aren't any and it kind of pisses me off).  But his love is found in those moments when he doesn't know I'm aware of his gaze, the fact that he still wants to hold me as he falls asleep.  His love is fiercely protective when the guys at work are trashing their wives and Stan says,  "I don't have a problem with my wife...No, really, I don't have a problem with my wife."  Doesn't mean I'm without my problems - just means he's content with who I am and our life together.
I've stood by Stan as he fought his demons.  Demons he still wrestles with today.  I accepted them some time ago when I realized these issues are not my competition, not even my problem.  They are a deeply personal battle that I cannot fully understand since I have never gone through it.  My only responsibility is to be there through the baby steps of recovery, triumphs and failures without judgment.  We have grown only closer since that revelation.
Stan has also stood by me.  I've gone through a rough time this year.  Stan nailed it recently when he got to the root of it.  When I was 18 I all but had a record deal in my hands.  I had backers, I had talent and I had a love for the Lord that drove me to share my gift with the world.  What I didn't have was self esteem, a supportive family or an ability to work through the hurts of an abusive childhood at the time.  I walked away and made a train wreck of my life for the next five years before meeting Stan that included back to back pregnancies, homelessness and a world of regret.  About 13 years ago Stan and I made the conscious decision to go back to church, rededicate our lives to Christ and raise our kids in a healthier home.  It's been a long road, but we're getting there.
In the mean time I've really wrestled with discontent, depression and a whole lot of whining.  Stan told me something a few weeks ago that floored me.  It floored me because he saw what I had tried to hide from even myself.  It floored me because he was so full of love for me through every word he spoke and every ugly truth he saw.
"Renee," he said,  "I think you're angry."
Angry? I am not angry.  I am the one with the jokes and giggles.
"You're angry, Renee because you didn't follow the life God had for you when you had the chance.  You're angry because I'm not the kind of man you would have married if you had gone into ministry 20 years ago.  But I love you, Renee.  All I live for is to see you happy.  But I'm not an evangelist.  I don't have goals to save the world.  I have goals to raise my kids in a good neighborhood, in a good home and provide for my family.  And I want you to know that one day you and I will have that ministry you long for - but not until I've done all I can do to make sure my kids have been given what they need to follow the plans God has for them."
I don't know if any of you have ever been "schooled".  But I'm telling you - I sure was that day.  And I realized a lot about myself I would have just as soon not known.  The very fact that my husband has seen the ugly truth and loves me in spite of it humbles me in ways that are unimaginable.  Because he didn't embarrass me, he didn't shame me.  He simply shared that he knows what is deep inside of me and he loves me, adores me - still.
I wish I could say that what he saw wasn't so.  I wish I could say we've never hurt each other.  I can't.  What I can say is that grace has managed to permeate every area of our marriage and we are learning, growing and falling more deeply in love with one another by the minute. 
And let me add this - he is exactly the man I would marry if given the chance to do it all over again.  Because he is strong enough to love the bad, wise enough to recognize the good and grounded enough to do it with finesse.

It's New Year's Eve! How are you celebrating tonight?

I didn't want to host another party so my husband and I are spending the evening with our close friends Christy and Jamie.  Christy is THE most amazing cook! We'll get to indulge in her Mexican culinary skills which will go great with my crab quesadillas made with roasted bell pepper and orange zest.  We'll top it off with a zillion different types of martinis.  White chocolate, pomegranate, etc. 
In between we'll play board games while both our children play the Wii.  Christy is doing this in honor of my birthday which is great.  I can't believe I'm turning 40.  Probably explains the two days of sobbing.  j/k

I truly look forward to this stage of my life.  I want to be intentional about the last half of the journey and I'm excited about what lies ahead.  This is going to be a great New Year!

Which new friendship formed in 2008 is the most special to you? How did that person come into your life?

The subject of friendship has been a very hard one for me this year.  I switched churches a year and a half ago and have yet to make a friend.  I won't switch again - it's an incredible place full of wonderful people.  I just don't click with them on a personal level.  I can't imagine another place I would want my children to be - watching all of these college students and young adults live for a greater purpose, volunteering their time to charitable causes, setting goals, living a life free of the Sex and the City lifestyle.  And unfortunately I see that it is probably an age issue more than anything.  I've never been one to recognize age a whole lot so it's hard for me.  I'm in my thirties, most of my church is in their twenties including my pastor.  But the message is so completely void of religion - and that's more important to me, especially for my children's sakes, than anything else.

I did make two new friends this year though.  However, I have never met either of them face to face.  They are both very different from one another, yet I was "introduced" to one because of the other.  The first new friend I made was Tom.  I enjoy reading his stories about his grandfather and keeping up with the transition he and his wife have made in "letting go" of their little girl who recently married.  His faith in Christ is beautiful and his honesty touching.  I actually share with him prayer needs that I usually reserve for a handful of people I've met over the last 10yrs because his genuine love for God, country and humanity are so solid.  I learn a great deal from him about integrity and life.

Tom introduced me to Patricia this year.  Here is where I start to laugh because the first thing that comes to mind is the name of her magazine - Harlot's Sauce! I love it.  It's about, at least to me, making a positive mark on this world, challenging perceptions and allowing different opinions be heard without malice.  That is quite a feat.  Patricia herself lives by Patriciasm which I find to be moral, inspiring and on the mark.  I've taken on a couple of Patriciasms to live by myself.  She is a compassionate, personable woman who has much to share with her life experience.  A very intentional mother (which is rare these days), touching writer and someone obviously crazy about her husband.  I admire her greatly and always look forward to reading her work and sharing with her my own. 

I do indeed consider both of these amazing human beings friends.