Steele (the Day)

Lean Not

// July 27th, 2009 // 11 Comments » // Uncategorized

I clearly remember the day this was handed to me by chubby, sticky fingers on a Sunday morning about 24 years ago. Sunday School fingers were always sticky from rice krispie treats and glue. “Pick off the Elmerts, Mom. My fingers feel funny.” This little one was always creeped out by his fingers feeling funny – he even got the heebie-jeebies when I trimmed his nails.

“I made this for you, Mom,” he said as he proudly reached up and handed it to me.

I loved it instantly. Proverbs 3:5 has always been one of my favorite scriptures, and now it was etched in my heart forever, conjuring up memories of ice-blue eyes and perfectly parted and combed platinum hair.

The overlapping red hearts are now faded to a light rose color. For a few months this had its place on the fridge, but as the artwork got rotated and things were moved to storage bins, I couldn’t put this one away just yet.

I moved it to a place I would see it often. Three small children allowed me to frequent the laundry room several times a day (some days I actually went there to do laundry and not just hide), so the appropriate place seemed to be next to the detergent shelf where the stray GI Joes and Barbie shoes were safe after being rescued from little pockets.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart.”

Throughout the pre-pubescent years, the unending laundering of athletic gear, and loads of “boat towels,” this verse washed me clean with every visit to the Maytag.

By the time we built our home and moved 13 years ago, those fingers had morphed from chubby and sticky to adolescent gnawed nails that could palm a basketball. And testosterone-laced rebellion and pride had reared its ugly head. The verse had found a new home above the door of our bedroom closet, and I still read it every day as I get dressed and grab my shoes.

Every day.

I don’t remember what the argument was about, but no doubt I had given a firm “No” to a request to do something that “everyone else was doing,” And thinking in my head that I was not going to use the “if everyone else jumped off a cliff….” line like my own mother had used. But I probably did.

And he was furious. After storming through the house and taking down all the pictures I had displayed of him, he went into my closet and ripped the gift of Proverbs off the wall – and out of my heart.

I groveled. I begged. No matter what, I needed that verse. “Do with the pictures what you will, but I want that verse. I’m begging you.”

He relented. I got the verse, though a quarter of it had been torn off in the ruckus. I remember sitting in the closet crying my eyes out, taping it together, and for a couple of days I hid it in my underwear drawer.

All precious things are safe among the granny panties, aren’t they?

A few days later, it took up residence again in its proper spot in our closet, taped securely to the wall. It has been there ever since.

Last Thursday, I opened the closet to find the verse had fallen off the wall and landed stuck between the hangers of my pants. Not thinking too much about it, I stuck it back to the wall, noting that even in a closet, old construction paper continues to fade.

The words do not.

Friday, I opened the closet door and it fell down again. As I tried to catch it, it floated out the door onto the dresser, propelled by a vigorous ceiling fan. I took the Fun-Tak off the wall, re-molded it in my fingers, and firmly replaced it.

Yesterday, after a fitful, discontinuous 1 1/2 hours of Friday night sleep, I opened the closet door to grab a pair of socks, and the verse had dropped off the wall again. This time it landed on the top of my sock box.

Of course. God likes to get our attention that way.

Once again, I replaced it. Scotch tape this time.

This morning, I opened the closet to grab clothes for church. My first step was smack in the middle of the dry, cracked construction paper.

OK, Lord, I’m listening!!

He is painfully aware I haven’t been listening enough. There are no accidents.

I replaced it this time with electrical tape firmly taped in circles on the back. I could care less what residue and gunk is left on the wall. Next time I may have to use duct tape.

Like that would make a difference when He wants to get His point across.

⁶ in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.

⁷ Do not be wise in your own eyes;
fear the LORD and shun evil.

Tragedy Averted

// July 20th, 2009 // 8 Comments » // Uncategorized

It’s been too long since I’ve posted, so knowing we were going to be spending the weekend at the river for my traditional birthday celebration, I figured I’d wait and show some of the traditional birthday festivities.

Mom loves to go all out. Remember when I wrote about the money “shirts” and the gifted cemetary plot at Easter? I knew I’d have another story to tell after the weekend. But never in my wildest dreams did I think it would be this. But let’s start with a picture of the view from Mom’s living room window, because the weekend started out beautifully serene.

The amazing grace of God entered a riverside park in Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin as we completed our church service this morning.

It was a beautiful, though unseasonably cool summer Wisconsin morning, and St. Peter Lutheran Church (the one Mom attends while she lives at her trailer on the river summer home in Wisconsin) was having its very first outdoor service. There were about 200 people gathered in the park and under and around the gazebo. The praise band was at one end of the gazebo, their backs to the river, so the congregation watched them and the pastor’s message whilst the Mighty Mississippi lazily flowed and the lush trees on the Iowa side of the river served as a gorgeous backdrop.

My mom, Ron Burgundy, Abby (my new daughter-in-law) and I pondered where to sit. At first we were going off to the right side of the gazebo, then Mom spied some friends off to the left, so she wanted to sit behind them. We parked our lawn chairs and it was a perfect spot. Little did we know at that time how perfect it would be.

About 20 feet of space stood between the band and the wrought iron fence that served as a guard rail to the river, which was about a 50 foot drop below. The way the river is dredged and the retaining wall is built, there is no shoreline. The river is very deep, probably as deep as the main channel, which is about 9 feet – deep enough to allow for barge traffic.

After the band played their final song, pastor said “Go in Peace, Serve the Lord,” Abby and I got ready to stand and immediately heard a horrible crashing sound. Within seconds, we saw a car quickly heading down the hill on our right toward a crowd of people, crashed into a picnic table next to the gazebo, splintering wood everywhere, swerved and drove behind the band, hit the iron fence leaving an open gap, then quickly turned toward the crowd again, as if going in an out-of-control circle.

And then, just a foot away from another picnic table it stopped. People were running and scattering everywhere. I called 911 on my cell phone, and when the operator answered I told her what had happened. She asked me where we were and I went blank, but I looked up and right in front of me was a sign on the gazebo “Lawler Park Shelter Reserved for St. Peter’s Church…” I don’t remember seeing that sign earlier, but it was obviously there in the picture.

Fortunately, only one person was hurt – an elderly gentleman who had wandered over to the park from the Fireman’s breakfast to visit with friends. He was pretty shocky and was having a lot of pain in his legs and hip. RB sat and held his right leg and others sat there also trying to calm him while we waited for the ambulance. The lady driving the car was very shaken, but apparently not hurt. As expected, she felt horrible about the incident and couldn’t explain what happened.

Had we put our chairs in the initial location we chose, we would have been directly in the path of the runaway car.

And had Floyd, one of Mom’s friends, not spotted Ron Burgundy across the gazebo and was making his way over to greet him, he would have been in the exact spot where the side of the gazebo was smashed.

In no way do I consider this a brush with death. Merely another brush with life.

Oh, the plans God has for us.

When I think of all of the children who were there just seconds before the car went through, the youth group we prayed for as they head out on a mission trip, the elderly who couldn’t move very quickly to get out of the way, and how that lady’s car avoided going straight down that 50 foot rock wall into the river, it’s nothing short of a miracle that only one man was injured.

I’ll leave you with a few more light-hearted birthday memories that pale in comparison to the relief we all felt when the park incident was over.

Mom baked me a birthday pie instead of a cake. I don’t eat cake much. Actually I don’t eat pie either, but the special peach pie was mostly for Ron Burgundy.

Rather than the traditional “shirt,” Grandma had way too much time on her hands and decided to tape my birthday bills together end-to-end. Abby and I tossed the roll back and forth across the room to see exactly how long a ribbon of 58 bills is. Very. Long.

Ben joined us this afternoon on his way back from a softball tournament. That little boy (I don’t see him as a grown man with a bride just yet) sure loves the river! I still see him toddling down to the dock with Grandpa and his fishing pole. I think he does, too.

And then a final parting shot on the bluff before we hopped in the car and drove safely home.

Tea today: Tazo Zen

Final Goodbye

// June 30th, 2009 // 6 Comments » // Uncategorized

Coach Thomas praying with his team before the West Marshall game 2008 – the first game after an EF-5 tornado destroyed much of Parkersburg a year ago, including the high school and Coach’s home.

Today our community said goodbye to Coach Thomas. Not just our community – friends, former students, and former athletes from all over the country. College coaches. Local farmers. A US Senator and our Governor. The tiny town of Parkersburg, Iowa was transformed into a grieving sea of people from all walks of life.

Ron Burgundy, Rick Coleman, and I stood in line for 3 1/2 hours last night to pay our respects to the family. The visitation was supposed to be from 3:30 to 8. We went at 7:00 and the line snaked through the tiny town of P’burg. Around 8:15 a friend of the family wandered to the end of the line and said “The family will stay until you have all been through. They want to speak to each of you.” We got home at 11:45 pm.

The Thomas family literally held up every one of those mourners as they went through the line. Only God could give them that strength.

We’re talking thousands of people here, folks. People from every walk of life. People from every demographic. People of every race, creed, and color. Those are the people Ed touched. Most of them were not football players.

While we waited in line, we saw old friends and shared funny stories. It was impressive to see the players who played for Coach and are now in the NFL come back to honor him as pall bearers. The chatter became more somber as we neared the church, and the sight as we entered was breathtaking. Flowers, plants, photographs, and memorabilia everywhere. Coach’s life flashing in front of our eyes.

As we stood by the casket, the largest of two strong, burly, kick-boxing men I was with was reduced to tears. Sobbing, shoulder-shaking tears. I always carry Kleenex, and Rick didn’t have his man-bag.

Ed’s wife hugged my two companions who had been a part of Ed’s life like she would never let them go. Like she couldn’t let them go. Their lives had been intertwined for many years. The church is quite small, and only family and close friends were given invitations to sit in the church for the funeral. The family asked Ron and Rick to be among them. The overflow would be in the community center and available via video feed.

Not wanting to take seats away from family, these two humble men hemmed and hawed, but the family insisted.

As we walked the 6 blocks back to the car, Ronnie said to me “I don’t think I’ve ever been so honored by anything in my life.” That’s saying a lot. After all, this guy has a key to the city and had a street named after him, among other things. All of those things paled in comparison.

Because this honor was all about relationships. And love. And God.

And a relationship with a loving God.

They had that in common more than anything.

At the service today, Ed’s eldest son said “You can be sad the rest of the day, but come tomorrow, once you wake up, it’s time to get going … There’s a lot of work to be done in this town.” That’s what his dad would have wanted him to say.

You can read more stores and memories about Coach here.

I still don’t understand, but after listening to Pete Wilson’s final “Q” series tonight, I was l left refreshed by a couple of Pete’s comments:

Ron put together his final tribute to Coach Thomas tonight. You owe it to yourself to watch.

Now let’s get going. Coach would want us to.

Tea tonight: green with acai

Happy Birthday KT, (alternately titled Mother’s Day, Part 2)

// May 13th, 2009 // 6 Comments » // Uncategorized

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jer 29:11

Thirty short years ago today, my baby girl was born. It was Mother’s Day. There could not have been a more beautiful gift for the occasion, and there hasn’t been one since. God just couldn’t top that one.

She pretty much learned the lessons I tried to teach her, though many were tough sells and learned after she was all moved out. It was God’s timing, and some stubbornness on her part.

Give. None of it is ours to keep anyway. It all belongs to Him.

Receive gracefully. People gift you kindnesses out of their hearts. Your appreciation is your gift back.

Forgive. The burden of harboring a grudge is much heavier than the gift of letting go.

Worship. We influenced her on that one, but she seems to have perfected it.

Cry during church. It’s the right thing to do. Or at least we keep telling each other that, since it’s out of our control.

Never settle. ‘Nuf said. (And dorks really do make the best husbands).

Eat your vegetables. She’s the dietitian – why do I need to keep telling her that?

Want what you have. It’s always enough. And if God doesn’t think so, He will provide.

Be a good steward. Time. Money. Talents. All are gifts we are charged with using to honor Him.

Learn to skate backwards. It allows you to see where you’ve been, but forces you to focus on where you’re going and maintain balance. Don’t forget the Zamboni in the corner, waiting to blindside you. (Thanks, Katdish).

Life sucks sometimes – get used to it. Our lives will be perfect one day, just not here.

“It isn’t the mountain ahead that wears you out – it’s the grain of sand in your shoe.“

Trust God’s timing. He knows what’s best. Thank Him for unanswered prayers.

Wear sunscreen. I didn’t slather the kids in SPF-60 for 16 years for them to bolt for the tanning beds at prom time.

Don’t say you’re fat. We are all fearfully and wonderfully made.

Never, never, never give up. I cross-stitched a tennis towel that she carried all through high school. Those words were soaked with blood, sweat, and tears so many times.

Become your mother. That’s not a lesson, but there’s nothing either one of us could do about it, so we might as well embrace it.

Don’t tell your dad everything. What he understands will be minimal; the remainder will go right over his head. Besides, he’s a boy. We all know how they think…or don’t. That being said, good luck in finding someone he thinks is good enough for you to marry.

Nothing will ever be as big as the love God has for you, KT. For as big as my love is, it couldn’t possibly compare. I can tell you how to live, but I cannot give you eternal life.

Happy Birthday, Punkin. I hope you dance.


Tea tonight: Genmaicha

The Pit

// May 7th, 2009 // 12 Comments » // Uncategorized

I was reminded of something today when a dear friend asked for prayer for a situation she found herself in. It was one of those instances that if you hadn’t been there yourself, in the flesh and tears, you may just blow it off and think to yourself “Aw heck, this will go away. She’ll be fine. Sure, I’ll pray for her, but she’s going to be OK.”

And then I remembered The Pit.

The Pit that is that mysterious spot between your throat and your stomach that keeps you from swallowing. Sometimes it’s so big it keeps you from throwing up, and you really wish you could. It’s a genuine physical symptom caused by a powerful emotional reaction to something that simply rips you apart inside, and you have no idea what to do, where to turn, or what the future holds. Only people you deeply love can elicit the symptoms of The Pit.

Because The Pit lies right next to your heart.

And I could feel her Pit.

Some things happen to others that you swear will never let happen to you, because after all, you’re in control. But you soon realize you were never in control and you’re brought to your knees in prayer, face down on the ground in tears. The situation may not be over, but at least you know you’ve been heard. And in submitting that grief and despair to Jesus, you know you’ve done everything you can. The rest is up to Him.

I’ve felt The Pit many times over the last few decades, with some form of it going back to my childhood. Life was pretty easy back then, but I do remember the time when I was about 7 that I thought I was going to drown in a swimming pool on vacation and the time our cat ran away, never to appear again. Those moments of despair were always fleeting – there was someone or something to care for me, distract me, or most importantly, hold me. Prayer hadn’t matured in me yet.

I still get The Pit. I have been able to perfect worrying into an art form, despite the fact that the most often repeated command in my Bible is some form of “Do not be afraid.” Philippians 4:6 could easily be my life verse. When I look back at The Pit over the last few years, seemingly hopeless situations have all turned out OK, if only temporarily. They haven’t necessarily gone away. I haven’t changed other people. Fortunes haven’t been showered upon me. And more than likely, circumstances didn’t change.

What changed was my heart. What changed was the feeling of hopelessness. What changed was the feeling of helplessness. I believe you can choose hope, but in my weakness, it’s a difficult choice sometimes.

The Pit was back today. But just for a short visit. I know it will be gone eventually and I find comfort in that.

Tonight when I went to the gym, I realized I forgot my iPod. How was I ever going to get through my treadmill and EFX without listening to Pete, Andy, or Craig? I count on these guys every week for their messages and to take my mind off my aching, aging body. I decided it was meant to be – a sign that I was supposed to ignore the message of someone else and have an hour long chat with God. It worked. And I got two signs that yes, everything will work out in the end.

Because if it hasn’t worked out, it isn’t the end.

At one point I looked down at the digital display on the treadmill and it read 1.11 miles. A half hour later the display on the EFX read 111.1 calories. This was my sign. I wanted to feel utter peace. I didn’t, but I did feel better. Progress.

I heard a pastor say one time (like I can remember which one, after the dozens of podcasts I listen to every week), “Our deepest, darkest moments were at a time when we were unconsciously running from God.” Perhaps I have been.

I know The Pit will be gone again in time. It always goes away. It just occasionally returns to remind me that I am not alone, I can’t do this alone, there is only One who can help me muddle through. Lurking in the dark shadows is the one who keeps trying to pull me away. He will not succeed.

I will make a conscious effort to run towards God today. He wants to take The Pit from me.

No, actually, He insists I give it to Him. He wants me to be a good steward of my abilities and resources to help myself while He continues the work on my heart.

It is a daunting task. Ever felt The Pit?

I pray my friend gets rid of her Pit today, too.

Tea tonight: Young hyson

Important Recall Notice

// April 11th, 2009 // 5 Comments » // My Fabulous Life

The Maker of all human beings is recalling all units manufactured, regardless of make or year, due to a serious defect in the primary and central component of the heart. This is due to a malfunction in the original prototype units, code named Adam and Eve, resulting in the reproduction of the same defect in all subsequent units. This defect has been technically termed “Sub-sequential Internal Non-Morality,” or more commonly known as S.I.N., as it is primarily expressed.

Some other symptoms include:

• Loss of direction
• Foul vocal emissions
• Amnesia of origin
• Lack of peace and joy
• Selfish or violent behavior
• Depression or confusion in the mental component
• Fearfulness
• Idolatry
• Rebellion

The Manufacturer, who is neither liable nor at fault for this defect, is providing factory-authorized repair and service free of charge to correct this SIN defect. The Repair Technician, Jesus, has most generously offered to bear the entire burden of the staggering cost of these repairs. There is no additional fee required.

The number to call for repair in all areas is: P-R-A-Y-E-R.

Once connected, please upload your burden of SIN through the REPENTANCE procedure. Next, download ATONEMENT from the Repair Technician, Jesus, into the heart component. No matter how big or small the SIN defect is, Jesus will replace it with:

Please see the operating manual, the B.I.B.L.E (Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth) for further details on the use of these fixes.

WARNING: Continuing to operate the human being unit without correction voids any manufacturer warranties, exposing the unit to dangers and problems too numerous to list and will result in the human unit being permanently impounded.

DANGER: The human being units not responding to this recall action will have to be scrapped in the furnace. The SIN defect will not be permitted to enter Heaven so as to prevent contamination of that facility.

Thank you for your attention!
GOD

P.S. Please assist where possible by notifying others of this important recall notice, and you may contact the Father any time by knee-mail.

Mad props to my friend Helen for helping spread the Word.
Tea today: Stash Fusion Green and White

By Your Side

// April 9th, 2009 // 5 Comments » // Uncategorized

These are comforting words to me today. Scroll down and turn off my playlist on the left first.

Tea today: Green ginseng with lemongrass

What Kurt Warner and I have in common

// January 31st, 2009 // 8 Comments » // Faith, Family, My Fabulous Life

With all the Super Bowl hype, and my obvious favoritism for Kurt Warner, I realized we have an awful lot in common. OK, that’s a stretch. I sound like a groupie (I am). But whenever a good Christian Iowa boy who used to work at my favorite grocery store hits the Super Bowl, ya just gotta give him a shout out in a blog that’s read by hundreds tens a handful of readers.

1. We both hail from Eastern Iowa.
2. We both put faith and family first. But our jobs take us away from family more than we like.
3. We both have children of whom we are very proud.
4. We love our spouses unconditionally.
5. We are both great quarterbacks. You don’t think so? I’m a kitchen quarterback, however. Just give me some space and I’ll spiral a baguette your way.
6. We both have whiskers.
7. We both graduated from UNI – he left just before I started my Master’s program. (If this makes me sound young, alas, I was one of those non-traditional students and the oldest one in my program).
8. We share the belief that with God, all things are possible.
9. We probably both wear the same size shoes.

You may think you share a lot of the same traits. Come join the club. I’m claiming Kurt and the Cardinals this weekend as big winners. And if they don’t win, Kurt will still be my BFF. Watch why.

Tea today: Jasmine

Shaken Faith

// January 15th, 2009 // 6 Comments » // Uncategorized

I’d like to think that if when something horrible happens to me, my trust and faith will always remain Heavenward. In the few times in my life when I have felt emotionally distraught, perhaps even end-of-my-ropish, I can honestly say I never felt like my Father abandoned me. Others maybe, but not Him.

The Curious Case of Ron Burgundy

// December 26th, 2008 // 6 Comments » // Uncategorized

Coming down after Christmas. Emotionally, I mean.

It’s a grieving process, of sorts. After the catecholamine surge of getting the dinner on the table hot and steamy, seating people so nobodys feelings are hurt, going through the exhaustion that follows a 4 day meal prep (which is eaten in 20 minutes), shaking off the tryptophan tiredness, and the aftermath of an empty house…let’s just say it was a bit anticlimactic.

It gives me pause to remember why we celebrate all of this, anyway. Oh yea. Him. The Gift. The One who made all of this possible, the up and the down. The way He’d always planned it.

Now I feel better. No really, I do.

Rather than a season of good buys, this was a season of good byes for me.

Good bye to shopping – I did next-to-none other than a few gifts online. I didn’t try to out-do anybody, knowing full well He already had. Who can compete with that??

Good bye as the kids, one by one, return to their respective lives.

Good bye to LuckyPuppy, though despite the denial by everyone but me that he’s actually dying, his next Christmas will be from the Bridge.

Good bye to my laptop, dying a slow death as I type from an attached USB keyboard, all of which requires balance and coordination which said good bye many years ago.

Good bye to a year of hard work and some “uncomfortableness” which means simply bringing in another one of the same, yet not saying good bye to the faith and strength that has so graciously allowed me to perservere. The faith that allows me to firmly trust that I am enslaved to no one or nothing as long as I choose to follow Jesus with a servant’s heart, knowing this plan of His is unfolding in my life and I may as well submit or be dead. That’s a hard pill for a control freak to swallow. But I have learned so many lessons along the way.

Good bye to the BHTC. It was nice knowing you for over 15 years and I miss you and the friendships it provided. Even though I promised to stay in touch, I didn’t. Keep me in mind for Rudy’s on Wednesday. I’ll make it eventually. I know everyone was dying to receive my White Elephant gift this year. My laptop wallpaper even got the boot.

So as I feel the years creeping in and the tooth getting long, I gaze out the window this afternoon to see this:

Yes, that’s Ron Burgundy next to what appears to be a snowman.

And he’s talking to himself (Ron, not the snowman). It’s my guess he’s talking to the Great Snowmaker and He must also be the Great Multitasker because He’s listening to me at the same time.

And when the snowman’s done, he comes in to share his boyish joy (yes, one can be a “boy” at 58) and happily obliges me a photo op. This fully-grown man has taken time to relive the simple joy of recreating a childhood memory.

All. By. Himself. Sorta.

He took his sadness of the post-holiday empty-nest mood and purposefully, intentionally, cast it to the winter wind, smashed it into a snowball. And another. And another.

And stuck a carrot in it for good measure.
He needed very little earthly “stuff” to get this job done. Just the heaven-sent snow, random rocks, oh, and perhaps Christmas lights for a mouth?

It would serve us all well to go back to the simple things that can bring us happy thoughts. Safe thoughts. Peaceful thoughts.

It’s my guess that it wasn’t about the snowman, but the thoughts God placed on his heart this afternoon to create it.

Tea today: Green Ginger