House beautiful....

Humor is, in my world, as essential an element of life as air or food. Without laughter, life would be dull and miserable. Therefore, I try to find a reason to laugh about everything.

Some things aren't funny until much later, but eventually, almost everything is funny. Even divorce, which wasn't at all funny at the time, but I find my ex-husband hilarious now that I'm not related to him any more. Or cleaning house, which, from my point of view, is almost as bad. It is also something which I am seeing from the perspective of up close and personal these last few weeks.

I'm going to make a confession here, in case you don't know me well. For years, I have blamed my children for the shoddy condition of my home. It is not because I am an atrocious housekeeper - it is because I am a parent that I am so domestically challenged.

I have complained, often and loudly, that my offspring have never learned how to move a light switch to the off position, despite the ability to move it to on, even if they are just passing through. The television apparently only has an on switch, because it has never been turned off as long as they have been alive. They have never put anything away. Ever. They do not know where any wastebasket is located, despite wastebaskets being strategically placed throughout the house, including their own rooms.

How can I possibly keep a clean house with them following behind me to mess it right up again, I ask you? It's an impossible dream, and I don't have Richard Kiley around to sing about it. (If you don't know who he is, Google it, and you will have had your educational moment of the day. If you do know, feel superior that you are so smart, and find something else to learn today!)

So I gave it up as a lost cause a long time ago. As I have been fond of telling people, I can either have my children, or I can have a clean house, but I can't have both.

Fast forward about 15 years, (that is about the time I lost control of the whole situation,) and here we are, A-Day. Which stands for Alone in the House and No More Excuses Day. The baby left for college this fall, and I knew the moment of truth was upon me. Now we would see whether or not the source of the problem was them or me, and I was a little nervous about the answer.

Between wallowing in fear for a couple of weeks, followed by being so overwhelmed by the scope of the problem that I didn't know where to start for a couple more, I was sort of paralyzed by inaction the first month or so. Then I thought I would just pitch in and do one room at time, which, after spending an entire weekend on one small room, became apparent was not going to be a working solution.

Ultimately, I came up with the strategy which I've employed the last couple of weeks, and which has resulted in spectacular results. (There will be humor, I swear, but I am also passing along a cleaning tip or two here. This is a multi-purpose blog, providing both form and function for your reading pleasure. But seriously. Talk about shock and awe. This is it. Me offering cleaning advice is something none of us ever thought we would see!)

The magical answer for me has been to spend 15 minutes a day on cleaning. No more, no less, usually on my lunch hour, although 15 minutes after work is acceptable, too. In addition, I do one load of laundry a day, washing, drying, and putting away, which, with only one load, takes a total of about ten minutes of my time. I throw in the load first thing in the morning, I throw it into the dryer at lunch time, and I fold and put away after work. Simplicity itself, and I always seem to have whatever I want to wear, which is like having a whole new wardrobe at my disposal.

I have been amazed at how beautiful my house can look, when I spend only 15 minutes a day on it, and don't have anyone else coming behind to mess things up again!

The answer is in. It's not me! It really IS them! Thus, the humor. I love being right. Every time I walk through my house and see how put together it looks, my heart soars at the sheer pleasure of it all.

A bit much? Okay. But it is nice to not be embarrassed to have someone come unexpectedly to the door, at least.

So the next time you look around your house and you feel like giving up, take heart. At the most, you have 18 years until you, too, can have house beautiful. Or at least house the way you always wanted it! And in my world, that's all I need.

Wishing you a clean week!

Princess, child of God....

My post this week is a foray into the controversial, which I generally try to avoid. I am not a controversial person, and I don't seek out arguments. But I wanted to share my thoughts with my friends on something I experienced, and that I would love for everyone else to experience as well. So, here goes.

Last week I watched a video that came with a powerful message, and it sincerely moved me. The video itself, a product of the pro-life movement, put a face on abortion - a genuine, human face, a living, breathing, walking, articulate woman who was a survivor of an attempted saline abortion when she was a seven month old fetus. She is passionate about her life and her story, but in a very simple, straightforward way that makes her easy to listen to, and which only serves to humanize her further.

She is, quite simply, like me, and it was very easy for me to relate to her. She was born to a teenaged mother who didn't want her, she was adopted by a family that has nurtured and loved her deeply, and she has grown up to be an articulate, strong, vital person in spite of her early difficulties. She could be me, and I could be her, and she spoke directly to my heart on a topic that is very difficult for me to reconcile within myself.

I am one of those people in the very murky middle of the abortion debate. For me, Gianna Jessen lives as a necessary reminder that the fetus that some so casually dismiss is, in fact, a human being, destined to have thoughts, emotions, and a life just like mine. Whatever you feel about abortion, I think it is necessary to understand the true impact of it - a life snuffed out before it's time.

I do not want to start an abortion debate among the people I know, or amongst those who stumble over this post. Like most people, I believe there is a time for it, but it should be rare and truly necessary.

But I also strongly believe that we should make informed choices about everything we do. If you believe abortion is a choice, you should know what that choice really entails. If you believe abortion is never a choice, you should also know what the consequences of that decision might be.

I am tired of the abortion debate being fought by the extreme poles, with their all or nothing attitudes, and an unwillingness to accept that sometimes we live life in shades of gray. I would like to see the discussion moved towards the center, where the overwhelming proportion of the population stands, so that we can talk rationally about when and how and if abortion is a reasonable option. I would like to see the fiery speeches and the dramatic protests replaced by serious conversation about the impact on the lives of the people involved, and that includes the life that is lost in the process.

I had this discussion with my son recently, and he dismissed my ideals as impractical. He pointed out that as soon as either side gives a little, the other side takes it and keeps pushing for more, in a sort of macabre tug-of-war over a life and death issue.

To me, that is the problem. It is a serious issue, and deserves a serious, carefully considered response, not the canned and scripted sound bite statements of the extreme adherents of either side.

Protesting with pictures of dead fetuses on the side of the street or putting up thousands of little white crosses on a church lawn doesn't really address the needs of the women involved, nor does it persuade those who believe in the right to abortion to change their minds.

On the flip side, insisting that any woman has a right to an abortion at any time for any reason, without regard for the life that is being lost is an untenable position for anyone who values human life. It isn't going to persuade anyone of the justice of their position, and they lose support even from those who concede that there are times when abortion may be the best of the bad answers in a given situation.

When I make a difficult decision, it is important to me that I look at it from all sides, and consider every single angle, to be sure that I am making the most informed decision possible. I believe that is the only reasonable way to ensure that I am going to be able to live with the outcome for the long term.

I would hope that at some point we can shut down the extremes, not only on this issue, but on every critical issue facing the citizens of this country, and allow for some reasoned discussion by those of us in the majority who sit somewhere in the uncomfortable middle. When I was little, my mom used to tell me that there was a time and a place for everything. It is long past the time to come to a reasonable agreement that most women, in conjunction with their physician, should be in control of the ultimate decision, with strict, common sense limitations on when, how, and why it is an appropriate option. But in making that decision, I think it is also reasonable to ask that they understand exactly what that decision entails, and accept the true consequences of the action they are taking.

Both sides appear to be afraid of the power that comes with knowledge and education, and in my opinion, that makes us all losers. If you want to be educated on the issue of abortion, I would encourage you to google the name of Gianna Jessen, and watch her presentation that is available on You Tube. She tells her story in a very clear and simple way, and it is very powerful. And then google the stories of women whose lives have been saved because of the ability to safely and legally end the pregnancy that threatened them. Look at both sides, because only then can you truly understand the impact of your personal beliefs.

Gianna refers to herself as a princess, child of God. That belief gives her the courage and the power to tell her story, so that we all might be more aware and informed on this issue. I believe that she lived for a reason, and I believe that she is fulfilling it by sharing her life with the world. Don't be afraid of a princess - embrace the opportunity to see true royalty at work.

Wishing you a thought filled week.

Well done, good and faithful servant....

This summer was hard for my extended family, as we lost two beloved uncles in the space of a couple of months. It reminds us all that time is passing too quickly, and we are truly just a tiny speck in the eye of the universe.

This past week, I too, passed into a new phase of life, middle age, as I reached a birthday milestone that makes clear I am no longer the youth that I was just yesterday. I am now, undeniably, what my son so charmingly refers to as a "real adult."

It is impossible, given the events of the last couple of months, not to at least briefly consider what will be said about me when my grieving friends and relatives are gathered around the urn. I don't dwell on it, but I occasionally wonder how I will be remembered, and what people will think of when my name is mentioned in conversation.

In every sense of the word, how you are remembered is your legacy to the world. Money is fleeting, but your reputation not only precedes you, it lives far beyond you as your descendants, even generations later, want to hear about your life and know who you were.

My Uncle Bud was a humble man. He was full of life and laughter and fun. He had simple tastes and simple needs. He was even tempered, and very hard working. He never drew attention to himself, and didn't need the accolades of the world at large to feel his life was fully lived.

The people gathered to honor his life were, I would imagine, most of the people he cared about that remain in this world. The tears that fell were all too real, and the love that pulled us together in that church was genuine and heartfelt. There is no famous person, no celebrity, that is missed more honestly than my uncle Bud, whose loss we will feel until we join him in our own eternal rest.

At his funeral, there was a lot of laughter as we recalled the funny anecdotes that reminded us of the man he was, and why we all loved him so much. But as I listened to everyone reminiscing, I realized that if I had to choose a single word to describe my uncle, I would choose the word faithful.

Bud was, first and foremost, faithful to who he was - a simple man with a straight forward goal to be there for his family at all times and in all ways, no matter what it took. I never had a moment's doubt that if I called on him, he would be there for me in whatever way I needed him. There was no facade with Bud - he was exactly who he appeared to be, a quietly spectacular guy.

When they hear the word simple, many people feel that it is an insult, as though being complicated is somehow a virtue. I feel the opposite. I mean it as a great compliment, because to me, it means you are the person you appear to be, open, honest, and straight forward with the world. That was my Uncle Bud, to his very last day.

My uncle Bud was also faithful to his family. He worked for many years on a job that may not have been thrilling in order to provide for a stable home and family life for his wife and children. His hard and faithful work provided them with not only a house, but opportunities to travel and explore the world in ways that few people have ever experienced, all with a positive attitude and gratitude for what he had been given. I have no doubt at all that he gave 100% on the job at all times, and that he was a terrific employee, because he knew why he was there, and he had a higher purpose.

Bud was faithful to his God and Savior, as well. He attended church every Sunday for most of his life. He was an usher and a quiet role model for many kids growing up in the church, one of whom, now a pastor, spoke quite eloquently at his funeral in fond remembrance. He was quietly faithful, a servant of his Lord in the best sense of the word, one who walked the life instead of just talking about it.

God gave Bud a capacity to see humor in every situation, and he always found a reason to laugh, no matter what was happening. I rarely saw him lose his temper, even when sorely pushed. When Bud wasn't laughing, it was time to shape up, because he laughed at everything all the time. Even as dementia stole most of who he was to us, his laughter remained the hallmark of his personality, and it is that God-given ability to see humor in every situation that those who loved him will miss the most.

Bud was also faithful to his country, serving in World War II in the Pacific in the navy. He rarely talked about his experiences, but when the uncles got together, it was always interesting to sit on the sidelines and listen to their stories. They were not a generation to moan and groan about what they had been through, and they didn't. They found the humor and laughed about their hardships together, and quietly reminded us why we call them The Greatest Generation.

One of the things Bud was best known for was his nicknames that he gave the people that he loved. When you had a nickname, you knew you were in his heart. He was always creative with his nicknames, and he had a way of making you feel special, even though it wouldn't have been a compliment from anyone else. When we all remembered our nicknames, it was with much laughter, as we talked about how each one came to be.

I love and miss you, Buddy Boy. I am grateful that I was a part of your life, and that you were in my world. You remain one of my strongest role models for living life well, and I miss hearing you say, "I don't care what anyone says, you're all right in my book." These words are so inadequate, but I wanted the world to know a little more about you, because I am so proud of who you were.

If I am remembered with as much fondness and laughter and affection as my Uncle Bud, then I too, will have lived well. We are told that heaven will have everything we need for all eternity. In that case, I see my dad and my uncles Harris and Bud on a lake in a small boat, catching fish and laughing and telling stories, and happy to be together again.

My uncle Bud didn't go out in a blaze of glory. That was never his style. Instead, he slowly faded away, quietly and without fanfare, just as he lived his life. But in the end, those of us who were at his funeral remembered someone that was uniquely wonderful, special to each of us in our memories of him. I can only imagine Bud approaching his heavenly future, and God greeting him with the words we all long to hear, "Well done, good and faithful Servant. Welcome home."

I love and miss you, Bud.

Watergate

Movin' on up. To the ghetto?

Today's tale is a true story. Maybe. I may have taken liberties by changing names and details to protect the young and inexperienced. Or I may not have. I leave that to you to judge. It is a little long, but it is a cautionary tale that is guaranteed to make you laugh. Or, at least, it has made everyone laugh who has heard it thus far. But there is also an important message in it that I want to share with everyone who reads this blog.

Enjoy!

Once upon a time, there was a boy whom we will call Adam. Tall, dark and intellectual, he was brimming with the over-confidence of all new graduates, ready to take on the world. He had a girlfriend, a sweet and kind redhead whom we will call Carmen, who was hardworking and earnest.

Together, they were moving to a distant galaxy called Wisconsin, to the quaint little burgh of Madison. It is a smallish city, as cities go, full of life and zest - the state capitol, as well as the home of the flagship state university, where Adam would soon be attending graduate school.

Adam and Carmen, full fledged adults, decided to make this move with little advice or direction from other adults, because they felt they were skilled enough, having moved across town previously, to handle the cross country move without assistance. [This is called foreshadowing, just in case you missed it.]

Our story begins when the daring duo traveled to Madison by rocket ship in the spring, to view their potential new locale and learn everything they could before making the move. Talk about foreshadowing. They left eight hours late, and had car trouble three hours from home in the wee hours of the morning.

They toured apartments where they hoped to find their perfect new abode. Adam met with educators and administrators, to find out more about the school and the opportunity he would have in this faraway land. They toured the local nightlife, they absorbed and imbibed in everything Madison had to offer, and they saw the lakes and parks and other attractions. Finally, their curiosity satiated, they returned to the land of Oz.

At last, they made the momentous decision that would change both of their lives. They were going to move to Madison to begin life anew in this foreign land.

They were excited, they were nervous, they were happy. Real Life awaited them; away from the confines of the small town where they had spent the last few years, and away from the families that smothered them with advice and direction. They were Mary Tyler Moore standing in the middle of Nicollet Plaza, throwing their hats in the air, declaring their independence. It was intoxicating, invigorating, thrilling.

They finally made a choice of apartments, and committed to one by ceremoniously signing the lease and faxing it in. [They were very welcome. Anything to get their stuff out of my dining room so I could walk through it again.]

One curious detail that they glossed over, however, was the lack of a security deposit required. While that seemed very strange to the Parent currently In Possession of them and too much of their stuff [from here on out known as PIP,] who eventually heard this bit of news a day or two before the move, the brave couple assured said PIP that things were handled differently in this strange galaxy, and no deposit was required. PIP was delighted to hear this, obviously, and though still concerned, kept qualms to self so as not to crush the spirit of the adventurers.

They made their plans, Carmen made list upon list, and moving day gradually crept up on them. Suddenly, before they knew it, it was time to pack the truck and head off into the sunrise [they were heading northeast, thus sunrise, not to mention they keep the weirdest hours, another reason they would not be as missed as you might imagine] to begin making it on their own.

Except there was a problem. There was no truck. Sadly, one of the items missing on the detailed list was the early procurement of a moving truck. Thus, mere moments before the truck should have been loaded, we find our heroes sitting in the kitchen in the dark of night, attempting to reserve a moving truck for August 1, which is, unbeknownst to them, the single busiest moving day of the year. [Apparently it did not occur to them that just as they wanted to move in on August 1, so would a lot of other students. All across the country. At every single university and college. Who knew?]

Eventually, after a false start or two, including a two day delay, they found a moving truck that would work within their budget, and they began rejoicing. They created a master moving plan, timetable detailed to the minute for the day of the move. Their belongings scattered across the state, they decided they required a full day to load up the van, allotting three hours here, four hours there, a couple more hours somewhere else, and finishing up with a flourish by dinner time.

They discussed the options, and felt they would be able to rest after dinner, then drive through the night to reach their new home in late morning. PIP was scheduled to arrive at the end of the day to help unload and unpack and get the apartment set up.

The big day arrived, and they were up and out nearly on time, which is, in itself, nothing short of a miracle. They procured their truck, and they commenced loading. The first that PIP knew of any difficulties was a phone call fielded at 9 p.m. letting her know they were a little off schedule.

How little, you ask? Well, they were still in the first location, and weren't quite done. They still had another location to go, not to mention everything that was here. Which, curiously enough, was not fully packed, ironic though that was, considering how many times the suggestion had been made to get it ready to go. But I digress.

A new plan was clearly in order, and thus, PIP was suddenly in the vanguard, leading the way to the new galaxy, with the belongings to follow later in the day.

PIP took off early in the morning, to arrive in time to be available for the internet installer to be let in. To shorten this story slightly, things did not work out as planned. Shocking, I know, but true.

The modem, which was required for install, was in the moving truck, still eight hours away. Thus, the install was cancelled and rescheduled for a couple days later. Since the boy and girl of the hour were not anywhere in sight, PIP got herself a hotel room for the night, and checked in before going to the apartment.

The hotel was in a very nice area, less than a mile from the apartment. After checking in, PIP headed over to see for herself what they had come up with. As she drove, her spine began tingling, and she felt the nerves in her stomach tightening with each passing moment. The neighborhood was going to the dogs [pit bulls] and she felt many misgivings as she glanced around the too slowly moving vehicle.

PIP pulled up in front of the complex, having nervously observed a group of young men standing across the street. Unless she was much mistaken, it appeared to her that they were a gang, and she was pretty sure she was not mistaken. PIP nervously contemplated her options as she frantically dialed the number given to her to reach the manager, and finally decided to get out of the car and look bold.

Which she did. She looked really bold. All 5'8", 125 pounds of her. She leaned against that little white Mustang convertible as though she owned the world, meantime shaking in her flip flops like she was having a seizure. But she looked bold. Yes Indeedy.

While waiting, PIP sent a text to Adam, suggesting the possibility that this neighborhood left something to be desired. Like, for example, safety. His response? We checked the online reviews, and they were very good. [More foreshadowing here. Just saying.]

The manager finally returned the call several extremely long minutes later, and informed PIP that she was in the wrong place. Well Then! Okay. PIP drove further down the street, only to realize that, in fact, she was only a couple of buildings off, and was now situated across the street from a Habitat for Humanity house, currently unoccupied. PIP was happy that there was underground, enclosed parking, because she had a strong feeling that the daring duo was in over their heads.

PIP received the paperwork and door keys from the manager, and he indicated he lived in the next building over if there were any problems. He was very sweet, but in quite a hurry. Such a hurry, he didn't even ask for first month's rent, which was a definite indication to PIP that she needed to vacate the neighborhood before dark. PIP did ask about safety issues as she saw his back rapidly receding into the dusky evening, and was assured by a comment thrown over his shoulder that things were definitely getting better in the neighborhood, and everything was swell now. Um. Okay.

The apartment was lovely, new appliances, and carpeting had been installed just that morning. Walls were repainted, and it was really very nice throughout. A lot of apartment for the money. Yes, folks, this is another indication something is not what it seems.

PIP went back to the hotel, and sacked out for the night, leaving the key to the apartment in the car for Adam to find when he finally arrived. Which he did at 5 a.m.

At 7, PIP awoke to a text stating that moving had commenced, but now sleep was required, and come over at 4. In the afternoon. PIP was flying out the next evening, so that did not leave a whole lot of time to help, leaving PIP feeling a little miffed. Finally, around 1, PIP received another text letting her know they were up and ready to move, so she headed right on over to help them out.

This is when things got really interesting.

The street was quiet, save for a few mothers and their children who were out playing in the front yards. One of which had weeds waist high. Xeriscaping, perhaps? Low watering landscape plan?

Carmen remarked on how sweet it was to see the children playing, in fact. This was immediately followed by four police cars pulling up directly in front of the moving truck, and eight officers running to the house across the street.

After the excitement had died down, Adam went over to the nearest cop and asked if crime was a problem in the area. The cop looked at him and laughed, then said, "No." Adam came back telling us this, feeling a little bewildered as to why the police would laugh at an honest question like that. [You will figure out the answer for yourselves, I promise.]

About 3 p.m., Adam decided he was hungry, and needed sustenance. Since there was no time to go elsewhere, he called for pizza delivery. As he talked, his face grew more and more incredulous. He eventually got off the phone without having ordered anything, and told Carmen and PIP that the pizza shop, which was three blocks away, would not deliver to that block because their drivers kept getting held up. It was at that moment PIP saw the truth begin to dawn upon the fair maiden and her gallant knight. It was not a pretty sight.

By this time, Adam, being the upstanding kind of guy he is, felt he had to get over to the office to pay the rent, so it would not be late. He took off with the checkbook, and was gone a very long time, which caused PIP grave concern. She was just beginning to think it was time to form a search and rescue party when she saw an amazing sight coming towards her.

It was Adam, in his little white flip flops, long blue shorts flapping wildly, grubby wife beater shirt exposing limbs flailing wildly as he ran across the grounds screaming, "GET IN THE APARTMENT NOW." This unexpected apparition was so startling, PIP and Carmen were dumbstruck, and had no response. Again, he screamed, "Get in the apartment NOW." PIP and Carmen felt it would be best to comply, and met Adam at the door. Everyone went with great haste to the apartment, whereupon PIP said, "What on earth is the matter with you?"

Adam uttered the words that no one in that room will ever forget. "We need to get out of here NOW."

Well, this was a little disconcerting, considering we had just spent the last few hours moving everything they owned, including their three cats, into that very apartment. Cooler head prevailed in the form of PIP, who pointed out the obvious, that this was where they were now living, and leaving really was not an option. Adam then told his story, and a hair raising one it was.

As he walked across the grounds of the complex, another resident yelled at him from the doorway of her building, and said, "What the hell are you doing here?" To which he quite naturally responded, "What?" He proceeded to talk with her, and got quite a bit of information that would have been good to know before they signed the lease. Including the murder that happened at the school down the street last year, and the dead body which had been found in the back yard of the house across the street two weeks previously. When PIP mentioned the underground parking perhaps making the apartment safer than it would appear, it seems the evidence also included stories of people following drivers into the parking garage and robbing them there.

Adam, Carmen, and PIP contemplated the situation with some horror. Adam said the woman told him that the management would likely work with him, since they were new to the area, but PIP had a strong suspicion that was a little optimistic. PIP told them to call the management immediately, to notify them that they would have to break the lease and get out. Carmen called, and hung up rather quickly, then informed us that they would be allowed to break the lease, but they would have to pay the full 12 months rent in advance.

That was not going to work out, since no one had that kind of money available, so PIP decided it was time for an angry adult to step in and get this resolved before it all got any further out of hand. She got the management back on the line, and after being threatened with legal action, arranged for the supervisor to call in the morning to further discuss the situation. By this time, Adam was slack-jawed at seeing his usually calm and complacent mother being so pushy, and Carmen was just panicked at what they would do.

It was not a good evening for the trio of unhappy people. They eventually drove to that pizza parlor and got pizza, then they spent the rest of the night strategizing and organizing themselves to face the enemy in the morrow. They got a game plan in place, and awaited the fateful call that would determine their fate.

Meantime, PIP decided to google the block to which they had committed themselves for a full year. The first item that came up was about a dead body. PIP could only shake her head in amusement as Carmen and Adam consulted and discussed the reviews they had seen online. A quick perusal of the reviews showed them to be several years old, which probably should have tipped them off, but live and learn, right?

PIP also contacted everyone she could think of and asked them to pray, as there was a situation at hand, and they really needed God's help to make this all work out as it needed to. [Pay attention to this part, because it's an important part of the story.]

In the morning, the manager called, and said the supervisor had gone home ill and couldn't talk to us, but had decided to give us two options. Either we could list the apartment on Craig's List, and as soon as it was rented, they would get out of their lease, or they could break the lease with two months rent up front.

PIP felt very optimistic at this point, as she had predicted this outcome the previous evening, and now the worst case scenario was something manageable. So she then said they would be right over to discuss the options further, and they drove to the office. Less than a block away.

Upon reaching the office, PIP demanded to speak to the supervisor, and finally said that either they were going to her, or she was coming to them, but one way or another that situation was getting resolved now, and she needed to participate. Eventually, the supervisor came dragging in, whereupon the situation was pleasantly outlined for her in short and to the point terms - out of towners, no clue what they were doing, taken advantage of, young and stupid, not equipped, learning lessons is great but no one wants anyone to die for it, you get the drift. Ultimately, she asked what was wanted, terms were agreed upon, [move out immediately so it could be rented as not having been lived in yet at the cost of one month's rent] and we were good to go.

Then we had a few hours to get everything out of the apartment, find a new place for two people and three cats to live in a college town on August 4, and get them moved in before I had to get to the airport for a 5 p.m. flight. Tall order.

Made even taller by the groups of teenaged boys who kept strolling by the truck and texting people as we were moving everything out as quickly as possible. No one felt safe with Carmen out there, so she was in the apartment making calls for appointments to see apartments while Adam and PIP loaded up that truck in record time. [In case anyone wants to know, it was 3.5 hours, and that 17 foot van was full to the rafters.]

By 2 in the afternoon, we had everything out, the truck completely loaded and three people and three cats in the car, ready to go. Except for one teensy problem - they had no where to live. Adam and Carmen looked at each other and said, "We are homeless. Everything we own is in a moving truck and a car, and we have no where to put it." Um. Ya. Bad moment. We won't go any further into that.

First appointment, PIP remained in the car with the cats while Adam and Carmen scouted out the apartment. There were two available, and Carmen came back and asked PIP to go and have a look. [Apparently they had figured out more heads are better than two, especially when the two are both under the age of 25.] PIP was happy to see something workable available, and felt that would be the ultimate destination, but encouraged them to look at the other available options, just to be sure.

Ultimately, at 4:30, Adam and Carmen made the decision to go back to the first apartment, and arrived almost at closing time. This apartment complex required checks with prior landlords, going back three years, before they would rent to anyone. They required co-signers for anyone that didn't have a three year rental history. They required a deposit, and the first month's rent pro-rated from that day, meaning they had to pay out another month's rent plus deposit unexpectedly.

In addition, PIP had to change her flight for the following day, because there was no way they could get everything done that needed to be done before the flight left. Fortunately, her travel agent is her cousin, who took care of that situation while we dealt with the paperwork.

The office staff was very kind to the traumatized pair, and stayed after hours to enable them to get into their apartment that night. Everyone [four previous landlords] that needed to be contacted for recommendations was miraculously available at 5:00 p.m. on a Friday night. PIP was able to co-sign, and although they had to pay the first month of pro-rated rent, they would get the second full month's rent, which turned out to be exactly the same amount as the first apartment, for free.

They got the truck backed up to the apartment building, got the cats situated, and then collapsed. They decided to go have a meal and assess what had happened in the previous eventful two days.

If you ever ask yourself if God answers prayer, my answer to you is that He does, in everyday situations, even for people who have done everything possible to screw things up.

God moved the heart of the management to allow them to break the lease, even though the law said she didn't have to.

They got everything in and out without any trouble from a neighborhood which clearly wanted to find some.

They ended up in a much better situation for the same amount of rent.

They had to pay a month's rent to break the lease, but ended up getting one month's rent for free at the new place.

The old place posed a serious hazard to the three cats, in the form of a loft on whose short wall they kept jumping up onto, which the new place did not have. They got the walls painted and all repairs done to the new apartment within the week, and it turned out to be a lovely place to live.

The flight was easily changed, and the events which the PIP was worried she would miss by the delay all went off exactly as planned.

Although I have enjoyed sharing this story with everyone who knows Adam and Carmen, the truth is, I have used it over and over to remind myself that God truly does answer our fervent prayers. When you give your troubles over to God, He will stand in the gap for you, and will see you through. He didn't solve the problem - we had to do the work ourselves. But there is not a question in my mind that God moved the hearts of all concerned to enable this young pair to find the home they needed when they needed it.

Oh, and by the way, they love Madison, now that they have moved on up out of the 'hood!

Low Hanging branches....

Everyone is familiar with the story of Prince Charming, dashing to the rescue of his Princess Bride, handsome, debonair, perfect. Prepared for anything. Nothing will stand in his way as he gallops to his lady love, solving all problems before they waylay him, slaying every dragon, and ultimately saving her day [and often her backside] in the end.

Real life looks a little different, at least from where I stand. My life is filled with low hanging branches, and I'll be darned if I don't ram into every one of them along the path. I don't know if I need new glasses, [maybe I should check into Lasik a little more seriously,] or if I just need to look ahead more often, but I have been knocked off more charging steeds than a jouster at a Renaissance Festival, and I have the broken bones and bruises to show for it, too.

I have been told by a well intentioned person, ignorant of my reality, that we bring our own outcomes upon ourselves. If I want a more positive outcome, I have to think positively, instead of always expecting the worst.

If only I had known. All this time I thought it was just real life hitting me upside the head. Evidently, I should have positively thought my way to life success a long time ago and just avoided that whole divorce nonsense, not to mention unemployment and poverty. Thanks for the helpful tip. I'll get right on that.

Of course, she has been married for over 30 years to the same adoring guy who actually thinks she walks on water, her children have turned out perfectly, they have plenty of money and have, by and large, had life go pretty easily for them. I would like to invite her to walk a week in my skin and see how the other 95% of the world lives.

Lest you think I'm throwing myself a pity party, I don't consider myself to be unique. It seems to me that most people have low hanging branches threatening their progress as they travel the road of life, no matter how pretty things look from the outside. Almost everyone gets hit in the head periodically by an unexpected limb hanging in the path that they just didn't recognize until it was too late. I think, in fact, that getting knocked off your horse is something that most people have in common, which is why we all giggle when something goes wrong for someone else [we're just so glad it's not us, for a change,] and immediately want to help them get back on the horse [we would want a hand, too.]

The same well meaning person told me that my string of life failures is God's way of telling me that I am not sufficiently humble - I have a lesson to learn, and until I learn it, I will continue to be humbled. Let me just say right now, I will grovel lower than pond scum just to successfully duck under one branch and ride on unscathed. If humility is what God wants from me, I'm all over it.

In fact, I got off to an early start on that particular lesson when at my birth, my own mother took one look and said, "Ah, I don't think so." I guess I wasn't sufficiently upbeat upon making my entrance for the first mom to hang around, if my acquaintance is correct in her advice on living more successfully. I wonder if I could take a mulligan?

[I am kidding about that, obviously. Fortunately for me, I ran into a family with slightly lower standards, and they took me in just as I was. Which gives this story its happily ever after ending. Sort of. Well, it's happy for me, anyway. I'm not so sure about my mom, who may have second guessed her decision a time or two, but is WAY too nice to say so. Ignorance is bliss and all that.]

My brother once made a simple, yet very profound observation as we were walking through my beautifully manicured former neighborhood of cookie cutter homes, where every third house looked exactly the same down to the basketball hoop in the driveway and the van in the garage, and there was little to distinguish one house from the next. He remarked, as he looked at the lovely expanse of little homes in front of us, that while everything looked beautiful from the outside, there was real pain hiding behind each and every door.

That insight is something I've remembered all these years, because he hit on a home truth that means a lot to me. Everyone has their problems, and just because things look beautiful from the outside, that doesn't mean there is isn't a struggle going on inside. Someone may live in a beautiful house and drive a new car, but still have an empty life. You can have all the earthly rewards the world has to offer, but if you have sold your soul to Satan to get it, then you are still lost.

I continue to look backwards too often on the path that I've left littered behind me, dwelling on the sticks and the branches that are clinging to my hair and the concussion that is lingering, instead of picking myself up and putting myself back on the horse. I am even more reluctant if it requires a hand from a friend to get there, because in true Minnesota Lutheran fashion, I don't want to put anyone to any trouble. I frequently forget that the most important part of any journey lies ahead, and if I want to miss the low hanging branches that surely await, I have to pay more attention to where I want to go instead of where I've been. If I spend too much time looking at the path someone else has taken, I will miss the twists and turns in my own route, and before I know it, I will be on the ground, wondering what happened.

There is a saying, life is a journey, not a destination. That is a matter of fact, because when you have reached your destination, life is at it's end. Between here and there, we all have a lot of living to do, and unfortunately, that includes a large number of low hanging branches for everyone.

You can't always anticipate the obstacle that will be thrown in your path, because life takes sudden U-turns and sharp curves that we can't see until we're in them. But you can look around you at the others who are nearby, and realize you all have branches in your hair, and we are really all in this life together.

We cannot control what life throws our way. A lot of bad stuff happens to good people, and that's just how life is. People get divorced, lose their job, have children that screw up, make bad financial decisions, have friends that stab them in the back, get cancer, have accidents, and the list goes on and on. Everyone has something that has gone wrong in their life. We can't control what life throws at us. But we can control how we respond to those incidents, and how we move forward from there.

So give a hand to a friend who needs uplifting. Jump on your horse so that your friends will feel good about jumping back onto theirs when they fall. If you encounter a low hanging branch, know that it won't be the last, but you can still learn something from it for the journey forward.

Personally, I've decided to get new glasses, and I am going to put on my helmet, too. I will still get knocked off, but hopefully I'll see it coming, and I'll be prepared for the fall.

Wishing you helmets and good vision for your journey this week. And when you're on the ground, give a shout. Someone will be right there to help pull you back up on the horse. Guaranteed.