We killed the beast

Take a trip with me down memory lane.

The year is 2002. I am pregnant with my fourth child. Our family's only vehicle is a 1985 Mercury Grand Marquis. Now, this as you can clearly see, is a large car, yet not large enough for my growing family. It's time to do what I had always said I would never do...BECOME A MINIVAN DRIVER. The situation is complicated a bit when you add that we (my first husband and the father of ALL of my children...you know you've wanted to ask and didn't. The brown kid throws everybody off) are broke and have terrible credit. I took a part-time job working at an auto auction "test driving" every kind of car under the sun. That is where I fell in love with THE FORD WINDSTAR. I loved everything about that van.

There wasn't a dealership in the country that would give us a loan and time was running out. Once the baby was born, we wouldn't actually be able to all leave the house at the same time again, unless someone walked. I believed God was a god who understood the plight of His people, so I talked to him. I explained the situation and believed He would offer a solution. Now, when you are broke and pregnant and outgrowing your only form of transportation, a reminder of your faith is sometimes needed. I visited the Ford dealership that couldn't give us a loan and I took a brochure of the Windstar. I got it home, cut out all the pictures showing the van inside and out. I presented it to the kids and told them God would be helping us. We talked about who would sit in which seats and where to put the new baby. We then glued the pictures to a poster board (ok, it was an opened up manilla folder). We wrote the words "Thank you Lord for our Windstar" at the top and put it on display in the room we used the most, our home school classroom.

Each day, when we started school or anytime we passed by that poster, that's what we did. We thanked God for our new minivan. While this was happening, would you believe everytime I parked my car in a lot, I would return to find it, (once on THREE sides), surrounded by Windstars, not just minivans, the minivan I was asking for. Sometimes it felt like God was poking at me with a stick and laughing really hard. And sometimes, it felt like he was smiling at me for my faith. So, I kept on believing.

One day I got a call from the Ford dealership saying they would like to forward our info to another dealership that could help us. Within a few days, Frank (husband) was on his way to fill out some paperwork and get things rolling. Now, I had begged and threatened and got all scary like, trying to make sure he understood we were waiting for God to get us our Windstar. He on the other hand, thought I was out of my mind, and even a little cruel for dragging the kids into my "fanatasies". Any minivan would do for him and that's what I was afraid we would get, just some dumb minivan. We received a phone call in a couple of days saying we qualified for a car and we needed to come to the lot.

Upon arriving, I scanned the lot, I saw Caravans and Ventures and Silhouettes and EVERY kind of minivan, but no Windstars. I am not happy. I try to get him to leave and go home, but as usual he's not going for it. I sit through the agony of financing and insurance and blah blah blah. I was defeated. I fought the good fight, and now this man was sabotaging the plan. When it was all said and done, the sales guy informs us that we won't actually be choosing our car, they would be choosing a car FOR us that we've been "qualified" for according to our financing. I want to kick somebody, and hard!

Our sales friend disappears for a while and returns with a set of keys with a yellow tag attached. I snatch them from his hand. Afterall, since hubby had ruined everything, I would atleast take it for the test drive. (Oh, and he was afraid of my driving too, that made it fun) I look down and the words written on that yellow key chain are ones I will never forget...

1996 Ford WINDSTAR

I did the happy dance right there. I am screaming like "boo-ya" in my husband's face. I coudn't contain myself. I ran (for what running pregnant means) to that van jumped in and almost took off before he could catch up. Afterall, he didn't use HIS faith to get this van, he SHOULD walk!

God had come through!

Flash forward...

A divorce

working 2 jobs to make the payments

hitting several parked cars ( i left apology notes)

backing off a cliff and getting the car wedged at a 70 degree on a drain pipe (don't ask)

side swiping a tree

rear ending a lady on an icy road

a slipping transmission

a place of worship

driving uninspected for 14 months (she just missed her 15 month over inspection anniversary)

windshield wipers that turned on and sprayed when you put on the turn signal (squeaking and sometimes even scraping when out of fluid)

a load of laundry to be found in her on ANY given day

car -sick kids

2 back wing windows that hadn't closed in years (shivering kids who sometimes got rained/snowed on)

11 cans of fix a flat (one that sprayed me in the face) and countless quarters when I couldn't afford new tires

more hours of prayer than any other place in my entire life

a toy box

a trash can

a hiding place

our escape vehicle

trips between York and Lancaster on "fumes of faith" (knowing the gas light has been on for days and your the youth leader that teens depend on)

one speeding ticket (i wanted it BAD)

a dinger that indicated that a door was open when none of them were, it got faaster when the headlights were on (some thought it fun to harmonize with)

camping vacations to Kettle Creek State Park

a million tears cried

a billion laughs

not one tune up, never an oil change on time, she took a beating. i fought hard to keep her and she fought hard to keep moving.

on saturday she took a turn for the worst and upon realizing it was her final ride, I took the wheel, we cranked up Hillsong and she carried us home for the last time.

we say our final good-bye to our Ford Windstar...aka The Beast, The Shaggin' Wagon, Nellie, Hunnie and Girl when I was urging her up big hills, The Junk Mobile...

she will be missed and not soon forgotten. she has served as a sign of God's faithfulness in the big and small. I am glad my kids got to grow up on poster boards and fumes of faith!

yes, i am crying over a red piece of metal with wheels! whatchya gonna do about it?!?!?!?!?

Yikes Yikes Yikes

So here's the story. I am sitting at my desk at like 10am. All of my employees have off today so the office is slow and I am keeping busy until Rick and I have our Subway sandwich holiday lunch. I hop on here to check on my blog...like it's gone somewhere or done something it shouldn't have. I click on my post and then at the top of the page is the "Next Blog" link. I figured out yesterday that it would take me to another bloggers page and I could read their material. I skim a few family pages, mostly updates to out of state relatives. Then I come across a person who'd gone skydiving and was telling of her experience. Next, a girl who in great detail writes of being spanked by her boyfriend for her birthday. Now, in my defense, she was talking about food and slow dancing, then progressed or digressed from there. By the fourth spanking I get the picture and I move on. I did also notice her advertisements, which are an option for all bloggers, were seductive and a bit embarrassing.

I click the "Next" button again and what do I get this time? NAKED ASIAN WOMAN! No joke buddies. She was ALL out. Now, let's remember I am IN THE OFFICE! Not that I would have paused even a second longer if I weren't, but now my naked rice eating friend is exposing herself at my job! I click "Next" again, just to get away from her and there is "Married Slave"...a NAKED MAN! Now, I am scrambling to just hit a button that takes me back to my blog where I am safe. DASHBOARD!!!! There is really nothing especially comforting about a dashboard. In fact as a child, before the days of car seats and safety belts, I specifically remember slamming my face into one while on a drive with my mom. I was so happy to see my dashboard.

All of this to say, scan blogs at your own risk. And hubby, you don't scan blogs at all. I am officially your favorite and ONLY blogging experience.

This brings me to another rant. Recently, our family has been renting movies. This isn't something we did much when I was a single mom, so I am a bit out of touch. One trip to Blockbuster and it doesn't take a genius to see that naked women are a pretty big deal. Now, that's fine if you WANT to see naked women every time you watch a movie, but me...not so much. And if you are in the category of DO, I have a few points to ponder with you.

Are you married? Does your spouse feel disrespected in any way by your viewing choices? Have you ever asked? Does seeing someone other than your spouse undressed cause you to be discontent with your spouse's body?

Do you have religious or moral convictions that would make viewing a pornography or going to a strip club inappropriate? What is the difference? If you know a movie has nudity in it, brief as it may be, can you really say you "didn't TRY to see it" if you still go to the theatre or rent it?

*Quick story, once a mom had specifically told her kids they were not allowed to eat candy in their bedrooms. One day, she thought they were being especially quiet, she crept up the stairs, threw open the door to find them eating candy. The one daughter chucked her lollipop across the room and stared at her with an innocent look. When she asked the daughter if she'd been eating a lollipop, she replied sheepishly "My tongue fell on it". *

Next question, do you or have you ever struggled with a porn addiction and are trying to get free? Ok, let's me be real frank...DUMB ASS! DUMB ASS! DUMB ASS! (See "a spade's a spade disclaimer" above) Recovering alcoholics shouldn't take sips, ex-smokers shouldn't take a drag and struggling former porn addicts shouldn't take peeks!

What's my motive? As a woman and a wife, I wouldn't feel overly respected by my husband for viewing, even briefly, another woman's naked body. I will also confess, that nakedness, be it of a man or a woman can and has caused me to stumble. By age 13 I was viewing porn on an almost daily basis. I have a responsibility to myself to guard my eyes and heart. And I am a mom. I don't ever want some nasty ass hog looking at one of my girls like a piece of meat, even if it's just for a minute.

In addition to my personal reason, I mentor and counsel people. I cannot begin to count the number of wives I have seen with broken hearts over this matter. Now, society seems to send a message to women that says if you have a problem with naked women, it's because you are weak and insecure. And in some ways, even ANTI-WOMAN! If women have a problem with other women's freedom, then we are oppressive. However, it's never flipped to say that the "free" woman are oppressing women too. Most of the focus stays on the you are not woman enough yourself to handle this. Which is why in the "are you married section", I asked if you have ever asked your spouse/wife. She's not really supposed to impose her "weakness" on you, so I encourage you, have the courtesy to offer.

I have also counseled or played a role of accountability to men; young, old, married, single, hetero-sexual and gay. Many of these men struggled with images that had made their way into their minds, usually through viewing, but even sometimes through acting out on them at other times in their lives. Each of them expressed a desire to be set free. One man, whose heart was a pure a gold confessed "I love my wife, but I struggle with lust, I don't look at porn anymore, but the problem is not going away." When questioned about his daily habits, it turned out that many evenings and almost every weekend was spent watching movies. While none of them would have been rated as pornographic , he was exposing his mind to images that crippled him in his fight to love and respect his wife as HE desired and she deserved.

Unless you subscribe to a moral or religious absolute, it would be difficult for me, or anyone else to create a square and tell you to stay in it. So, for you I say respect anyone you love and respect yourself. It's never respect if someone is in unnecessary pain or being caused to fail. If you do subscribe to a moral or religious code of conduct...follow it! Figure out what it really is that you believe and do that. In addition to respecting those you love, respect yourself by actually living what you say you believe.

In closing, if you struggle with lust or addiction of some sort, reach out! If you are in a relationship, have the talk and be honest with yourself. If you want a great resource to help you choose your movie and TV content www.imdb.com Know yourself. Know what is good for you and continually examine and re-examine your choices. Know that what is ok for everyone else may hurt you and your family. Don't be afraid to do what's healthy for you.
And, don't bother to invite us over or out to a movie unless you have respected my family, no matter what yours does.

I am off to douche my brain, I have some naked people to get rid of.

The Sometimes Less Than Flattering Parallels Between Christianity and Mental Illness

Schizophrenia- is a mental disorder that makes it difficult to...

Ok, now let's have a little fun.

- Tell the difference between real and unreal experiences and to think logically Christianity at its very core is to believe in a God who cannot be seen. Others have taken this experience even further and actually claim to hear from God personally. (More on this soon)

- Have normal emotional responses In most Sunday morning services there are people whose lives are crumbling around them, yet they paste on smiles, shake hands and kiss babies as if all were well. Obviously, they don't give prescription pads to high school drop-outs, so my "diagnosis" is less than expertise, but this seems like a clear case of "difficulty in having normal emotional responses".

- Behave normally in social situations I would also like to make the observation that Christians have somehow thought it "normal behavior" to stand on street corners with bullhorns screaming curses and threats, in the name of their invisible God. All of this taking place while their minions chase people around with pieces of paper reiterating the spews in writing.


As the illness continues PSYCHOTIC symptoms occur


- An appearance or mood that shows no emotion (flat affect) Ever sit in a on a long service? Look around, it's all there. Some guy is ranting on about how great their invisible God is. Sharing supposed documented miracles of this God's goodness and love...and NOTHING!

- Bizarre motor behavior in which there is less reaction to the environment (catatonic behavior) Slain in the spirit, need I say more?

- False beliefs or thoughts that have nothing to do with reality (delusions) See invisible God stuff above...or listen to some Joel Olsteen while on hold with your bankruptcy lawyer.

- Hearing, seeing, or feeling things that are not there (hallucinations) Apparently while I was a single mom, God did a lot of talking to a lot of guys. In a three year period of time THREE men told me that they'd "heard from the Lord" that I was their wife. Another was pitched to me by a pastor and his wife telling me "we know he's your husband and you are going to miss "the Lord's" will. The "Lord" didn't seem to relay ANY of these messages to me. In fact, the voices in my head, that I too named "the Lord" kept pointing me to some red-head who didn't want anything to do with me. Throw in some angel sightings, the sensation of warmth during a "healing" or cold when "demons" are near....I don't know guys, this is not looking good.

- Thoughts "jump" between unrelated topics (disordered thinking) Ummmm...ever heard a sermon?



Let's move on to the more particular types of Schizophrenia.

*rubbing my hands in anticipation*

Catatonic type:

- Negative feelings this one just makes me giggle. "the music is too loud, the floors are dirty, the pastor didn't say hi, i left the last place because..." Nope, none of that going on in Christianity.


Paranoid type:

- Delusions of persecution or grandeur Things that do NOT constitute persecution, but are perceived as such... "Christmas Sale" sign at the Bon Ton now reads "Holiday Sale". There is no prayer in school...they aren't practicing Wicca, black magic or performing satanic rituals either. Ok, well nobody really knows the source of the cafeteria mystery meat, but there's also no video footage of the hairnets dancing around it beforehand. Grandeur can be witnessed at conferences and feel good services when everyone is told "you have a great destiny"..."you are part of God's plan"..."if you were the only one on earth, Jesus would have still died, JUST FOR YOU".


Disorganized type: (Possibly my favorite)

- Inappropriate laughter I think they call this one "drunk in the spirit" or some supernatural "Joy of the Lord" thing

- Repetitive behaviors Build a big building, invite a bunch of people, sing a few songs, listen to a sermon (see above) go home and repeat...on almost every street corner in every city in the country and with the "mission" of covering the globe with this process. While this has been repeating for, again high school drop out, not scholar, I don't know, thousands of years...and with what results? If the process is worth repeating, why aren't there results?

- Social withdrawal don't hang out with those people, stay with the like-mindeds, they are the safe people. And don't go to those places, you don't want anyone to see you there! We send our kids to Christian school to "protect them" and then it's off to Christian college so the world can't rub off on them.

All of this to say...I will let that up to the voices in your heads.

Rusty and the Plastic Bag

Rusty, our 8 pound long-haired-Chihuahua, has an issue. Well several…the fact that he looks like a rodent isn’t a huge plus, but I guess that’s besides the point. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, he has made it his business to mark his territory on plastic grocery bags. Yes my friends that means every time he sees a plastic bag he lifts his leg and pisses on it!

Now, you say ”this behavior seems easy enough to deter…don’t leave bags or things in bags on the floor”. Ahhhh yes, why didn’t I think of that? Oh yea, I DID! And for the last several months I have gone out of my way to be sure I haven’t left any targets for Rusty’s midnight pee-shooting competitions.

Guess what? In spite of my extra efforts, Rusty’s disdain for the grocery bag has increased and is compelling him to new and unhealthy levels of determination. I think he believes they are…THE ENEMY (bom bom bom). I realized a few weeks ago that if I shook a plastic bag, Rusty would run out of the room with his tail tucked into his bladder. It’s made for some fun times of “Chase the Scared Dog with a Grocery Bag”. Parker Brothers are sure to steal my idea and market it in their next ”Family Game Night Campaign”. In the meantime, you are all welcome to come on over and join in the festivities for free.

Now, back to the point. Maybe all of the Christmas Carols on the radio have finally put me over the edge. All I know was when I woke to find a plastic bag ON MY KITCHEN TABLE had been baptized in Chihuahua whiz something snapped. And of course, as soon as Rusty heard the rustling sound of the wet bag, he took off running toward the living room, tucked tail tickling his tonsils all the way.

The desire to chase him with the bag or use him as a squeegee, though usually rather appealing and therapeutic, just wouldn’t cut it today. The evil laugh that schizophrenics claim to hear, bellowed as I began exacting punishment. A few snips and ties and clips…that would teach him! I have learned from personal experience that shame and humiliation are the most effective punishments one can suffer. In case this didn’t do the trick, I am lining the kitchen table with plastic bags tonight before bed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A humiliated Rusty in his petroleum mane. Who's the king now Rusty?!????!!!