30/30: One Surprising Truth About Me

Week number 27 of the 30/30 Vision Blog Challenge is a bit of a toughy for me. I'm supposed to tell you a surprising truth about myself. If you know me or are a regular reader of this blog then you know I keep very little about myself a secret. I have shared my happiest moments, my deepest sorrows and much personal trivia in these posts, and I am very much the same way in person. So what can I tell you that will surprise you? I am just not sure. But here goes...

Most of you know of my love of music and my somewhat eclectic tastes. You also know that I have, for MANY years, loudly proclaimed that I do not care much for country music. This was true when I used to be forced to watch Buck Owens on Hee Haw back in my childhood. I never cared for the classic country artists like Conway Twitty, George Jones and Loretta Young. When the kids in my youth groups began listening to people like Randy Travis and Garth Brooks I made fun of them. On my i-Pod there is no Toby Keith, Carrie Underwood, Tim McGraw, Faith Hill or any of the other current country artists (Exception: I have one song by the Zac Brown Band, but that's as a tribute to a special friend- so you can't hold that against me!). I love bluegrass, folk, pop, rock, Christian, classical and whatever Weird Al is- but country is not my thing. But you already knew most of that. So what's my surprising truth?

I love...LOVE...the music of Willie Nelson. I find him to be a brilliant songwriter and I love to hear him sing. There is such passion and emotion in that scruffy old voice. I love On the Road Again, Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys and so many other classics. And his version of You Were Always On My Mind is one of the best songs ever recorded. As Will and I made the 12 hour drive from Elkin to Tampa on Wednesday night we listened to a LOT of music. At some point when we were pulling out after a bathroom break he began to sing On the Road Again. When I told him I had that on my i-Pod he was surprised but immediately began to search for it. We wound up listening to all of my Willie Nelson songs and my son was impressed by what he heard (Sorry Steve, but Willie was much better than Hurricane Smith in Will's opinion). I do love me some Willie Nelson. And that is my surprising truth.

So tell me...are you surprised?  Have a wonderful Friday and a blessed weekend.

Because of Jesus,

Greetings From Elkin!

Hey there readers. As most of you know my family is currently in Elkin, NC preparing to say a final goodbye to Marilyn's father, Posey Steele. We will be at the funeral home tonight and the service and burial are tomorrow morning at 11 o'clock. I am currently in the Elkin Public Library with the only computer I have access to- and a 30 minute time limit. So read fast... 

I just wanted to let you know a little about my schedule for the next few days- both what I know and what I don't. After everything is over tomorrow, Will and I are headed back to Tampa so he can return to work and we can rescue Conner from the kennel. After that, things are still very much up in the air. I will either be driving back to NC on Saturday or to North Myrtle Beach on Monday, depending on whether or not the planned family beach trip happens or not. No decision has been made yet...or at least no one has told me! In either case, we will NOT be in NC after the 17th, as Marilyn changed her vacation to include this week and not the third week of the month. Many of the plans we had (including the Springfield Reunion) to see some of YOU are on hold at this point. Something may yet work out, but I just wanted you to know where things stood at this time.

Thank you all for all of the prayers and support you have offered Marilyn and our family. Tonight and tomorrow will be hard. Please continue praying, and remember Will and I as we travel Wednesday night and early Thursday. We know that in all things God is faithful. But sometimes life throws curve balls. Be well, my friends!

Because of Jesus,

Home Where He Belongs

Marilyn and Posey, 1986.

At 8:24 pm last night my father-in-law, Posey Steele, went home to be with Jesus. He was 88 years old. He fought hard for 8 days after taking after a terrible last weekend and suffering a severe head trauma, but it was time for him to go to "the mansion prepared for him" by his Savior. He leaves behind Marie, his wife of 67 years; daughters Marilyn, Linda and Carol; grandchildren Spring and Will; and great-grandchildren Danielle, Evan and Ryder as well as other extended family members. But to stop with his family would be to miss out on the wonder of Posey. He leaves behind the town of Elkin, NC, where it seems most everyone knew him from his days as a mail carrier, his retirement days working at the local Food Lion grocery store or his regular stops to have a biscuit with his boys at a local eatery. He leaves behind his beloved Poplar Spring Baptist Church, where he he served many roles over the years including that of deacon and faithful member of the choir. And perhaps moist importantly for this day and this week, he leaves behind a legacy of stories and memories for everyone who ever knew him. I take comfort in knowing that while his body is finally at rest after years of physical struggles, Posey will live on in our hearts and minds because there will ALWAYS be one more Posey story to tell- and over the coming weeks I share tell some of them. He will be missed. But we are confident that because of the grace and mercy of the love of God whose name is Jesus, we will see him again. And he'll probably be watching wrestling...

As I write on this Sunday morning I realize the coming weeks are going to be a little crazy. Marilyn, Will & I are leaving for NC today instead of next weekend as originally planned. We do not yet know any of the arrangements for Posey's funeral, we just know we need to get up there. I will be driving back with Will later this week so he can continue working 2 jobs and getting ready for fall courses to begin. Then I will drive back up next weekend and rejoin Marilyn and her family. Beyond that, I am uncertain what will happen or how long we will actually be in NC. There are many of you we look forward to seeing while there, but the schedule of when and where is now much more up in the air. We will be in touch. This blog may be out of commission for a few days, but by the end of the week I should be able to let you know more about what's going on with us. If you have my cell number, please feel free to use it.

I ask for prayers for the entire Steele family, but especially for Posey's loving wife, Marie. Losing a loved one is never easy; losing a spouse after 67 years is almost unimaginable. Her faith is strong, but her body is weak and her loss is great. Please lift her into the Light and ask God to give her strength to carry on. We thank those of you who have been praying since last weekend, and please know that those prayers have been felt both here and in NC. We shall continue to lean on your prayers and a faithful God in the coming days. Be well, my friends.

Because of Jesus,

Dreaming Big and Running with Endurance

I am honored today to feature a guest post from one of my favorite writers, Teresa Reep Tysinger (at left). To be completely honest she is not just one of my favorite writers- she is one of my favorite people!  Teresa is sharing today about dreaming, and about one of her dreams. I urge you to share in her dream (as I have) by clicking the link at the bottom of the post and doing something amazing and tangible- GIVE! Join me and be part of her Dream Team. I'm not promising anything, but there may be t-shirts! And thank you, Teresa, for being willing to share from the heart. Always.

Hope is a foundational concept in the Christian faith. In fact, I’d argue that aside from grace, it’s the defining concept. We have hope for salvation because we trust in the promises of God’s love for us. We are renewed with strength as we wait on his plans to be made known. So what do we do in the meantime, as those full of hope?  We dream.

Throughout the course of history, “dreamers” have often been tagged as foolish, nonsensical, time-wasters. Undoubtedly there’s some merit to that. Dreaming is easy. Doing is hard. Doing takes planning, gumption, patience, and a willingness to fail (sometimes several times) before succeeding.  But while dreaming may be comparably easy, let’s not forget that dreaming is birthed from hope. Inventors dream up an invention hoping for added convenience. Artists dream of new ways to use various mediums in hope for creating beauty. Humanitarians dream of repurposing excess resources in hopes of bringing relief to hunger and poverty. 

These might be lofty examples of dreamers – inventors, artists, humanitarians. But I believe each of our individual dreams (i.e. ideas, brainstorms, and ambitions) are a product of the spiritual gifts God has distributed among us. At the most honest level, we dream of doing the greatest with our own talents, and leave those with talents we don’t possess to figure the rest out. What are your dreams?

One of my dreams has been to use my writing to express joy, hope, and grace to others. Since a young girl, I’ve found these things within the pages of countless books. As I’ve grown, however, the dream was packed away in a box deep in the recesses of my mind, covered up by demands of school, relationships, motherhood, career, etc.  I accepted that there’d be time for that particular dream down the road. One day. I hoped.

Have you ever noticed God’s tendency to make things more complicated than necessary? Weaving together expanses of time, involving numerous people in varying degrees, detouring to expose unexpected opportunities. But an intricately woven tapestry is far more interesting, memorable – and most importantly stronger – than a simple, loosely stitched piece of fabric constructed swiftly and haphazardly.

I’m so thankful to see God in the midst of weaving together my dream of becoming an author. A friend/co-worker urged me to consider participating in National Novel Writer’s Month back last November, through which you commit to writing a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. Crazy, right? But the dreamer in me perked up. I channeled my inner gumption and willingness to fail and committed. I traded my precious evening couch time for the glow of the computer monitor late into the night. I painstakingly ignored my lack of confidence that anyone would want to read it. I was tired. I was weary. I doubted along the way. But I was also excited, hopeful, and felt alive. I trusted God to use my words to craft a story of grace and redemption that would mean something to at least one person who needed it.

Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us,
let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.  (Hebrews 12.1)

 Imagine my surprise when in less than 30 days, I had done it. It was hard. I wanted to quit – many times.  Now, thanks to the urging of supportive family and friends, I’ve found an editor I want to work with toward to road to publication. She’s the first one I checked out and it felt like an instant match. But God’s not done weaving. I’m taking another uncomfortable leap and asking anyone interested to join what I’ve affectionately named the “Dream Team,” and donate funds to cover the cost of a professional edit of the manuscript.

“I can’t ask people for money for something that’s just a personal dream,” I told my family and friends.

A friend pointed out that might be selfish of me – not giving others the chance to be willingly woven in to this beautiful and intricate tapestry of how God’s working through this dream. A dream that ultimately belongs to him anyway. 

So I created a campaign on PubSlush.com, a crowdfunding site specifically for aspiring writers and publishers. At the time I’m writing this, I’m 10% funded with 27 days to go. It’s scary. But I’m willing to fail. And I’m hopeful. A pretty powerful combination that leaves the door open wide enough to welcome God in to work his magic. The outcome is no longer really important.

What’s your dream? What amazing thing – big or small – might God do through your dreaming while we await the hope of eternal life with him? Working in the lives of your children as they experience you parenting with a servant heart? Integrating into your company’s initiatives a community service component? Building a water well in a small African village? And be on the lookout for people join your Dream Team. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Build your village. Bless others with the opportunity to be part of your tapestry.

Dream big, friends. Endure the race set before you. We are a hopeful people.

** If you’re interested in learning more, or – gasp! – donating to my crowdfunding campaign, please visit my PubSlush page (link http://pubslush.com/books/id/3267). Thank you! **  - Teresa Tysinger

30/30: My Worst Job

This week's prompt for the 30/30 Vision Blog Challenge is pretty basic: What's the worst job you ever had? Most of you know that I spent a lot years in youth work serving 8 different ministries, and I would never count any of those experiences as the worst- although the time spent working for The Pastor Who shall Not Be Named in 1999/2000 does get honorable mention. But I did have other jobs earlier in life, and like with most young people some of them were pretty crappy. I spent several weeks the summer after high school graduation shoveling horse manure out of stalls. I worked as both a waiter and cook at Pizza Inn. I drove for Road Runner Express Delivery, driving 300 miles a day picking up and delivering film and photographs (WARNING: extinct job!) at express drops from Greensboro to Shelby. I sold leather goods, knives and belt buckles at a Christmas-time kiosk at a mall during the hours I was not the mall Santa Claus. From 1983-1984 my job was in a yarn warehouse- 3rd shift -at a hosiery plant. I even trained to be a door-to-door salesman of family portrait packages- but never sold one so that doesn't really count that as a job. Like most of you, I had my share of misery for money. But none of those are the winner. None of those are the WORST.

The winner is the year I spent working for Color Tile in 1985. For those who don't know or don't remember, Color Tile was (is?) a retail chain that sold all types of flooring, ceramic tiles and carpet to both contractors and the general public. Employees were also trained in helping customers install the items they purchased. It was a large chain that was flourishing at the time, with three stores in Greensboro, NC. When I was first hired I was very excited. I would be a salesman, making both a hourly wage and commissions. Given my communication skills and sunny personality I was certain to be successful in sales. Right?

Circumstances never really game me chance to find out if that personal assessment was accurate. The Color Tile that hired me was located just outside the Carolina Circle Mall. That mall was known for 3 defining characteristics in those days. It was the new mall in the area with some trendy stores. It had an indoor ice skating rink, which was a big deal in Greensboro in the early 80s. And it was situated in a rough part of town that had a constant, powerful and distinct sewer smell lingering over the surrounding area. It was awful. As soon as you stepped out of your car it became difficult to breathe. Needless to say, the mall struggled to attract shoppers. And as the mall struggled, Color Tile was often deserted. The best salespeople in the world cannot make sales if they have no customers. To make matters worse, even though this was a shirt and tie kind of position, several days a week were spent unloading the trucks that arrived with new product. I remember well the joy of awaiting our rare customers while wandering a store - in a tie- soaking wet with sweat. Because business was so bad, the manager would often schedule only one person to close the store each night. In that part of town, being alone in any building with a cash register made anyone nervous. The only redeeming characteristic of the job was the paycheck- and even it was kind of pitiful. It was a long. miserable year.

One of the great moments of my life was being offered a position to serve New England Yearly Meeting of Friends as their Youth & Education Director in late 1985. Moving to Massachusetts to escape Color Tile didn't seem unreasonable. And to complete my end of the year renaissance, I proposed to Marilyn in December just before heading north. None of that changes the fact that my worst job was the year I pent selling DIY home improvement products to invisible customers. I'd love to hear about yours. Have a great weekend!

Throwback Thursday: Leaving Springfield

Remember, my old Springfield buddies- lunch at Pizza Inn on August 16th at noon! Let us know if you are coming (and how many are coming with you!) so we can let the restaurant know how many to prepare for!!!

A Springfield Christmas at our house

In early February of 1994 I accepted a call to be the new youth pastor at the First United Methodist Church of Kissimmee, FL. Hard to believe it's been 20 years. Leaving Springfield Friends Meeting was one of the hardest decisions I have ever made. On this Throwback Thursday I'm going to tell the story of what happened at Springfield Friends Meeting after Marilyn and I made our decision. We were leaving on April 14th. And there was so much to do!

Once our decision had been made, and the task of telling the people I worked with and for began. It was not an easy task. A few people- Max Rees, Judy Rees, Rick Harward and Neal Thomas- already knew of the possibility because they had written incredible reference letters for me. Telling everyone was difficult; telling the youth seemed impossible. I broke it to them one Sunday afternoon at YFYF, and there was lots of crying and lots of hugging. Once we were past that, I told them how much I loved them and that they needed to know we were going out with a bang, not a whimper. We began to talk about what they wanted to do over our last 8 weeks together, and their answer was simple- EVERYTHING! I explained to them because of finances and school schedules we could not do a major trip during the time, but other than that I would try to do everything they asked of me.

The list of requests was extensive. They wanted one last Rec Around the Clock, one final Quaker Lake Retreat, one more Movie Night, another Kyoto's Night and every other special event we had ever done! They asked for specific things to happen at both YFYF and the newly renamed Monday night program, MARS (formerly TNT), right down to which songs they wanted to sing and which games they wanted to play. They wanted it all- and I gave it to them. We crammed a year's worth of programming into two months, and it was amazing. We even planned an "alumni" trip to Disney for the following December so our college students would have one last event together- and we would have company in Florida. Combined with trying to hit the ground running in Kissimmee and packing after almost eight years in our little house, I have never been more exhausted than I was when April arrived. But it was so worth it...

The relationships I had worked so hard to foster over the years could have easily drifted away once they knew I was leaving. They could have felt deserted and unloved. They could have even felt let down by God. We did pray a lot and cry a lot during that time. But because of the effort and care we gave to those last 8 weeks, everyone felt energized and important. I have always believed that in any ministry position how you leave is just as important as how you start. This experience reinforced that belief- times 10! By the time of our "going away" dinner on March 30, we were closer than ever to the youth. That final night could have been tear filled and joyless. Instead, it was one of the best nights of our lives. We may not have done EVERYTHING in those last 8 weeks...but we came pretty darn close! Have a blessed day!

Because of Jesus,

Quaker Lake Flashbacks

From 1978 until 1983 I spent my summers working at a summer camp. I loved that job and have so many great memories. However...looking back I sometimes question my sanity. Long days, short nights, no air conditioning, no carbonated beverages and only one night a week to do anything else doesn't sound like anything a normal young adult would choose to do. And yet we considered it both a blessing and an honor to work there, as have so many others since then. Sometime in the late 1980's I stole from Jimmy Buffet and parodied his song We Are the People Our Parents Warned Us About for a Quaker Lake Camp reunion event that never happened. I have always thought the song expressed a little bit of the craziness that came with working at Quaker Lake. The song is now WAY out of date; instead of Neal, I could say Heather and instead of the campers are the staff it could read "now the campers kids are the staff."  Everyone who has ever worked at QLC can identify with the spirit of the song, if not the particulars, because to survive working there you have to LOVE it. And it helped if you were just a little bit crazy...

I was supposed to have been a computer wiz or a naval academy grad (HA!)

That was the way that my parents perceived me, those were the plans that they had

But I couldn't fit the part, too dumb? Or too smart? Ain't it funny how we all turned out

I guess we are the people our parents warned us about

I could have worked at Pizza Inn, or Sears, or McD's, 
but instead I worked at Quaker Lake

It did permanent mental damage, the campers wouldn't give me a break

Now those campers are the staff and I just have to laugh
 'cause I know that it's so easy to see

That they're all demented, just like we taught them to be!

We are the people, they still can't figure out

We are the people, our parents warned us about

Hey, hey, Neal what do you say? Let me come back to Quaker Lake with you

Blue skies and the sun shining high, playing on lake so blue...well, green...
I've see it red!

Now I've got quarters in my loafers trying to fight inflation 
when it only used to take a cent

What happened to my Quaker Lake pension; now even my dog is for rent

But still I miss that crazy place, it put a smile on my face

and I'll never be normal again

'Cause I love tuna cheesies, and singing Ba-Ba-Barbara Ann!

We are the people, there isn't any doubt

We are the people our parents warned us about

We are the people who make you do a double take

We are the people who use to work at Quaker Lake

So here's to all the crazies without whom my life would have never been the same! The early Christians were like that- people thought they were either crazy or demon possessed. There is something about living life in the Light of Christ that makes us all a little dangerous- may we always be those people!

Because of Jesus,