It Only Takes One

There is a lady I know that I have served with on a committee. A few months ago, she dropped off the radar. She didn't return phone calls and simply disappeared from view, more or less. Then I saw her at the ball field last Saturday. We had always had a decent relationship and she asked if she could talk to me about why she dropped out of sight.

She started off by saying she wanted to talk to me because I was the only one in that group that she had never heard say a bad word about anybody. I felt good for about five seconds and then reality hit me because the truth is, I certainly HAVE said bad things about other people. Apparently this lady was just not around at the right time. She went on to say that she didn't like how our group seemed to spend the first 15 minutes of every meeting talking about other people. I don't remember every single instance but I believe it's true.

I'm sure it wasn't her intent but God used that conversation to humble and convict me. I gossip and I enjoy it, and it's wrong. What is it about gossip that is so attractive? Because it is, isn't it? It's simply delicious sometimes to have the dirt on someone! Is it the idea that tearing someone else down makes me look better? Is it the feeling of knowing something that not everyone else knows? Our culture today makes gossip seem harmless, part of the "everyone does it so it's not so bad" genre. There are entire TV shows, magazines and websites devoted to gossip alone. Previously when I've been made aware of my tendency to gossip I've had to look at friendships that seemed to encourage talking about others and wonder what on earth we'd have to talk about if we weren't talking about other people.

And what's the test of gossip? I've always heard that before you speak you should test your words: is it true? Necessary? Kind? Beneficial? I've also heard that last one as "uplifting" or "encouraging". I've also heard it said that if you are not part of the problem and you are not part of the solution, you have no business talking about it. I've heard that you shouldn't say something about another person that you wouldn't say if they were standing right in front of you. And there's always "do unto others as you would have them do unto you". Do the rules about gossip apply to celebrities too? The Bible says "May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing to you, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." Is what I say and think pleasing to God? Do a Bible search for passages about "words" and/or "mouth". It's an eyeopener!

Meanwhile, my talk with my friend shamed me on another level. If we as a group were truly off-base and spending so much time slamming other people, somebody should have spoken up and stopped it. Why didn't I? It only takes one person to say something like, "I don't think we should be discussing this. Let's talk about something else." At heart most people KNOW it's wrong to talk about others behind their backs and a gentle reminder will get them to stop. Silence implies consent. If you don't speak up everyone assumes you don't mind it, or that you agree with them. You don't have to be confrontational or judgmental, just redirect the conversation to something safer. And if you don't speak up, who will?

Unredeemed

There is a song on Selah's newest CD called "Unredeemed" that just touches me in some of those dark places that I thought I had left behind years ago. It talks about some of the bad things that can happen in life and how we so often don't understand why it's happening, but "when anything that's shattered is laid before the Lord, just watch and see, it will not be unredeemed."

When I was married the first time and we decided to have children, only three months into my six-month plan (and believe me, I had a plan) I was pregnant - right on schedule. When Jon and I got married in 1996 we waited a year or so before we started trying to have a baby, mindful of my advancing age. (It is really not fair that men can father children well into their dotage while women start being termed "older" mothers by their mid-30s) It ended up taking two years and the same number of fertility specialists for us to have K. Within two years of her birth I had had two miscarriages, the second of which required outpatient surgery. That particular pregnancy was a roller coaster from the beginning, moving from joy to despair to hope and finally to grief. I used to think my divorce was the worst pain I had ever felt, but it turned out to be a distant second to the physical and emotional pain of losing what would have been our baby girl (the doctor told us it was "perfect little baby girl").

Jon and I had agreed before we got married that we wanted to have one biological child and adopt another child, and in fact we had started the adoption process but had to halt it when we found out K was on the way. Once K was born we thought we might just have our second one the old-fashioned way because it was way less expensive (I'm not proud of that line of thinking, but it's true), and that never quite worked out. Just before K's third birthday we decided to start adoption proceedings again, and we chose China, for many, many reasons. Without going into great detail, I will just say that the baby girls of China had been on my heart since high school. Barely a year later we were in China bringing home our Q, a child that I have no doubt was chosen for our family by the hand of God himself.

Now, that's not to say that Q is a substitute for the children we lost because that's not fair to her at all. But would we have her if I had carried one of those babies to term? Probably not. I don't know what that all means except that in the end, all things work to the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28).

At the very end of "Unredeemed" the lyrics go something like this: "It may be unfulfilled, it may be unrestored, but you never know the miracle the Father has in store; just watch and see, it will not be unredeemed." Whatever suffering you go through, whatever dark days you've lived, it will not be unredeemed. I am living proof.

The Incredible Edible Erupting Volcano Cake

My sweet baby K just turned nine years old. I asked her what kind of treat she would like me to bring to school on her birthday to share with her classmates, expecting to hear cupcakes or cookies, or whatever. Here's the conversation:

Me: So K, would you rather have me bring in cupcakes or cookies for lunch on your birthday?

Her, with no hesitation (obviously she's already thought about this): I want a chocolate cake shaped like a volcano that shoots out chocolate frosting and edible confetti.

Me: What? A cake that shoots frosting out the top?

Her: Yeah. First it just looks like a cake and then boom! The frosting shoots out and oozes down the sides and the edible confetti blows out.

Me: Do they even make edible confetti?

Her: I don't know, but they should.

Me: Cupcakes it is.

No way was I going to attempt to construct an erupting volcano cake for the class but I was curious to know if such a thing was possible so I did what any self-respecting person did when in search of credible information: I Googled. Who knew how many varieties of edible erupting volcano cakes existed?!? I was well and truly floored.

Once I picked myself up off the floor, I formulated a plan. I decided to attempt to cobble together a few different recipes to create my own EEVC (I'm tired of writing it out already) but as a backup plan I would reserve the right to use the chocolate fountain for the molten lava. And I would serve this astonishing display of culinary magnificence at her birthday party.

The original conversation I had with K about the cake was just so cute I couldn't resist sharing it with anyone who would listen, and after that I *had* to make the cake to preserve my reputation.

On party day I put the cake together. It involved two chocolate cakes, one baked in a bundt pan and the other baked in a 2 quart glass bowl.

Then I stacked the bowl cake on top of the bundt cake. So far, so good. It does have a mountain-ish shape.

I took a glass out of my cabinet and cut a hole through the middle of both cakes then inserted a clean glass into the hole. It would have worked better if I could have found that skinny glass vase I just *knew* I had, but oh well.

Then I frosted the whole thing with a big batch of chocolate frosting, being especially generous between the two cakes to fill in the gap. And also to glue together the rather large "fault" I made in the top layer when I cut the hole in the middle. I even had enough frosting left over that I could have eaten some if I wanted to, not that I did. And if you believe that, I've got a beach house in Arizona I'd like to sell you.
You can see my lovely fruity glass in the middle, just waiting for showtime.

To simulate lava bursting from the top and oozing down the side, I followed one site's instructions to make lava drips from sugar, water, food coloring and corn syrup.

And then it was off to the store to buy dry ice. I had to do a trial run with the dry ice outside just to make sure it would work. I'd never played with dry ice before. Why did no one tell me about this little marvel?

I brought the marshmallow fluff "lava" along to the party. After the candles were blown out I put the dry ice in the glass in the middle of the cake and added some hot water to make "smoke". Then the "lava" went in with a little more hot water and we had our own miniature Pompeii. The birthday girl was thrilled and her friends were pretty stoked too! Check it out!

The Times They Are A-Changing!

Daughter A got married last month, in a lovely little wedding that cost us all of $1500. The wedding dress we bought for $1 probably had a lot to do with that. While I was happy for her, I have to admit that I was a little sad about seeing things change. We love James and he's a great guy, and we welcomed him into our family with open arms. At least until he does something to make us mad, then all bets are off. Just kidding, James. Anyway, after 21 years I had gotten accustomed to having Dana under my roof, and now I had to get used to her living elsewhere. To be honest, I was looking forward to having a whole lot less to do now that the wedding itself is done.

And then.... and then....and then..... my daughter informed me (rather bluntly, I might add) that their new little family of two.... will be a family of three by the end of the year! I heard my Grandma tell Dana that she needed to get busy so that we can have 5 generations again, but I don't think she meant for Dana to get pregnant right away. I'm still not sure how I feel about this. I'm so not ready to be a grandmother. I'm still raising my OWN kids, for crying out loud! Now I have to find a name that means "my mother's mother" and yet doesn't make me sound like I should be able to get the senior discount at Hamricks.

And now that James is at Basic Training, Dana has practically moved back in. But that's OK.

On a more serious note (not that having a baby isn't serious enough), daughter B, who is struggling at school lately, has been prescribed ADD meds by the pediatrician. I took her in for a consultation and the ped said it was pretty obvious that she has ADD. On the one hand, I'm hopeful that she may finally get a chance to experience success at school. But on the other hand, I feel guilty somehow. It's like I think I should have been able to handle her without the help of meds. The past few weeks have been nightmarish in dealing with homework and bedtime, and basically any kind of transition. The very first day she used the patch, I could tell she was so much calmer. Even after the meds have worn off she's calmer. I think she feels so much more in control of herself on the patch that she feels more able to control herself the rest of the time. And while she's always been a sweet girl, lately it's like the sweetness has just risen to the surface. She's so much calmer ("less frantic" was the term her big sister used, and it's very true) that her younger sister has even calmed down. Go figure.