It takes a village.....

I know the saying is that it takes a village to raise a child, but I have decided it takes a village to take care of a single girl!

I feel to really do this story justice I have to go back to Sunday. I was leading worship and the colors were teal and brown. I had decided to wear my teal shirt and Sarah’s brown skirt which she had loaned me during conference. It was fortunately still in my room. I knew there was a hole in the right armpit of the shirt so I ghetto-mended it with safety pins and headed off to the church. During our pre-worship practice time Brenda came to me and asked me to raise my left arm. While giving signals to the band she saw skin and realized I had a hole in that side of the shirt as well. I still can’t figure out how that happened since the shirt is not even remotely tight on me.

I had safety pins in my purse and could have “mended” the other hole as well, but decided the safer bet was a different shirt. Fortunately I live right across the street from the church. Unfortunately I really didn’t have time to stop practice and go get a different shirt, and Sarah was not at home. Shannon, one of our students, was sitting in the sanctuary and was more than willing to oblige my request and go to my house for another shirt. Sweet Shannon not only got the shirt I requested from the dryer, but also took my other clothes out of the dryer and laid them on the washing machine.

Fast forward to last night… I was preparing to do laundry for my trip to Baton Rouge tomorrow. I went into the laundry room to get the clean clothes that I knew were still laying on the washing machine, in need of being hung up, when I discovered next to them… a dropping. Then I saw several more droppings on the towels on top of the dryer. I picked up my clothes, gave them a little shake and more droppings fell out on the floor. At this point I knew I had a problem.

Now, it must be noted that I hate mice. I’ve had way too many mouse experiences. As a child I lived in way too many mouse invested houses, one I still refer to as “the mouse house” to this day. It was so bad that when my parents and I would get home from being out at night they would leave me sitting in the car wait while they went and checked the traps. Yuck! This is the same house that I remember a mouse running across the floor while I was watching Saturday morning cartoons.

So, last night’s discovery had me darn near paralyzed with fear. The irony being that right around 4pm yesterday afternoon I was paralyzed with the same fear when I heard scampering on the roof over my office. First thing I did was text Luke, one of the boys that lives down at the end of the street. I was in search of traps, and someone to help me set them, but he didn’t have any. He suggested David Fang did. So the next text was to David, who had traps, but didn’t know how to set them. I then texted Luke again and begged through capped letters for him to help me set the traps. He was willing.

I drove across the highway to David’s to pick up the traps. He gave me four and still had an entire arsenal in his drawer. He asked me if I was cold and I explained that I was not, I was merely scared to death! I then swung by and picked up Luke, handing him my mini mouse catching arsenal. After about twenty minutes of trap snapping and peanut butter flying Luke successfully set three traps (the fourth was big enough to catch a small cat and I decided was probably over kill) and still had all of his fingers.

Then began the waiting game…. I still had laundry to do so with shoes on I carefully traipsed back and forth in front of the empty trap. Finally around midnight I went to bed, dryer running in hopes I wouldn’t hear the snapping, and after praying a prayer that God would keep any critters, mammal or insect, out of my room I fell asleep. Granted I didn’t sleep well. I kept dreaming about mice and waking up … it was not pleasant.

This morning it took me 10 minutes to muster up the courage to go and check the traps. The first one, which I could see in plain view from the entrance of the kitchen was empty. However, the second one, strategically placed between the washing machine and the wall, could only be seen by getting closer to it. Upon my closer observation I discovered a dead mouse. SCORE! The third trap, placed behind the dryer I couldn’t muster up the courage to check. I can only hope it also contains a furry little culprit!

Okay, so single girl, alone in her trailer, at least one dead mouse… what now? Trying to spread around some of the requests for help I sent dependable Bubba a text. He willingly agreed to help adios the dead mouse, or mice, from my house. However, I then had to retrieve the clothes I put in the dryer last night, switch over another load and wash the towels that the furry varmints had desecrated. As a result I proceeded to timidly walk past the dead mouse… repeatedly… watching it every time I had to pass it.

I really don’t know what my deal was. It’s not like it was going to resurrect and come after me. Honestly I think it goes back to when I was a kid and my aunt told me if I stepped on an ant and killed it the others would come after me. So now I fear the retaliation of any living creature that dies at my “hand.” I also had this terrible image of another mouse showing up in my clean clothes that were coming out of the dryer. If anyone had seen me trying to take my clothes out they would have been thoroughly entertained!

I finally conquered the laundry and came to work. I left the door open so Bubba can go take care of the prisoner(s) when he has a moment. Just recently have my heart rate and breathing returned to some semblance of normal. I am really glad I’m going out of town tomorrow to a house that is mouse free! Let Sarah deal with the mice this weekend!

Like I said, it takes a village to take care of a single girl! This is not the first time I have had to call on the continual kindness of many of the guys around. Pastor Dan and Pete have been my own personal parking lot mechanics several times. I have added a new item to my “hubby list” since last night – Must be willing to trap and remove all sorts of critters including, but not limited to; mice, bugs, snakes, frogs, lizards, etc.

Thank you to all of the wives who loan their husbands, men who come at my beck and call and friends who tolerate me in these few and far between moments of helplessness!!

Random

Wearing my blue shirt that half the church owns.

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Feels Like Home

I should start by apologizing if this blog is a repeat of others. It's just strong on my heart right now.

This evening I got in my first full workout in some time. Between rain, conference and being just plain busy I put in some time on the Wii Fit, but didn't necessarily get to walk. Today however I resumed my routine, walked to Amanda's, Wii-ed it up for about 40 minutes and then finished my 2 mile walk. Hamon Avenue was bustling with activity. As I walked back up the road, my walk nearly 1/2 over, it hit me. It? The sudden realization that I love this place. Tears filled my eyes and I began thanking God that He led me here.

The first several years, okay seven, that I was here I compared everything to where I came from. Then, after coming face to face with my issues, my focus shifted. Soon enough I was looking for a way out. In my own defense I thought God was opening doors for me to leave. I actually sat down with Dr. Tim, my boss, and told him I thought God was moving me on. Considering my job I felt it was only fair to give him plenty of warning. I told him nothing was definite, but that I planned to knock on doors until one opened or God said otherwise. Despite my best efforts nothing ever opened up. As I write this I wonder if he sat there listening but actually thinking "she'll get it out of her system." Who knows....

A year ago the doors officially closed on my moving plans. A little while later, as I walked into the sanctuary during a conference, I said to God, "I'm okay with staying here forever as long as I don't have to stay alone." That was it. Call it resolve or surrender.... I started to let go. Then began a daily journey of trusting Him. Trusting that no matter how things looked, how I felt, how much money was in my bank account, what people said, He was in control and He would work things out for my good.

The thing is... even at Christmas I wasn't so sure that here was where I wanted to be. Sure I had said that to God, but somewhere in the back of my mind thought maybe it was a test, and He needed me to say that so I could "be content" and He could bring whatever. I imagined doors opening for me to stay in WV or OH, but obviously they didn't.

Since the beginning of the year something has shifted in my heart. Occasionally things happen like tonight when I'm just overwhelmed with love for this place and the people around me. I am happy. I am content. I am glad to be here. Finally after 10.5 years I am happy to be here! This is where I want to be. I've always been in support of the vision, but now I love the vision. If only I could have had this epiphany 8 years ago...

I love our close knit community. I love that the boys are just down the road if we need anything. And though I act annoyed I even enjoy when they decide to drop in unannounced (though announced is so much better... espiecally on a Saturday afternoon). It's like having brothers.

My heart is finally content. We've been through the toughest financial season in the 9 years that I've been on staff, and yet not once through it have I feared. Actually I've been able to maintain a reserve in my bank account. I know that God has it all worked out. All of it.

I wish I had a "formula" that I could share with everyone to help others find their place of contentment. All I can say is, TRUST HIM. When we are really willing to lay not just our dreams and our plans in His hands, but our anxieties, fears and doubts then He can quiet those things. He has calmed and quieted my soul ... Waterdeep sings Psalm 131:

Oh Lord my heart is not lifted up
My eyes are not raised to high for Thee
I do not think on things to great or marvelous
Or matters too difficult for me

But I have calmed and quieted my soul
Like a weaned child is my soul within me
I have calmed and quieted my soul
Like a weaned child with its mother is my soul within me

O Israel trust in the Lord
From this time forth and forevermore
O Israel trust in the Lord
From this time forth and forevermore

"You don't divorce kids!"

My parents divorced when I was 8 years old. Two years later my Dad married my Step-Mom. Five years later they divorced. That was 14 years ago, yet I still call Leslie, my step-mom and she still tells people she has a 29 year old daughter. (She likes the shock value. She's only 40.) When people have questioned why we have remained close (the fact that she is my sister's mother aside) she has told them, "You don't divorce kids!" To me, when my Dad has been in one of his frequent jerk modes, she has always said, "I'll be your Dad."

Today I was talking to my sister, Elizabeth, on the phone. Her "Pap" Greg, Leslie's Father, recently had a heart attack. He didn't even know he was having a heart attack until he went to an already scheduled Dr. appointment. Soon after came kidney failure and a stroke. He is currently in a continuous care facility. Elizabeth was telling me that she and Leslie went to visit him today. He can't talk, and today was apparently incoherent. However she was telling me about a bulletin board that is in his room covered with pictures of his family from over the years. Included amongst the faces (he has six children, plus step children and I have no idea how many grandkids) were pictures of me. Now I've only seen him probably twice over the last 10 years, and though I realize he wasn't in a state of mind to pick the pictures himself, I teared up when she told me. Obviously there was some method to the madness of the pictures picked. "You don't divorce kids!"

Even though I haven't stayed close to him since my Dad and Leslie divorced, he was once my "Pap" too. When he passes away I know I will cry. Before he was my "Pap" he was a friend of both sets of Grandparents. They all used to be a part of a prayer group that met weekly. He even asked my Mom on a date once. She declined stating it was just too weird since his daughter had married my Dad.

I think the worst part about getting older is watching people who used to be so strong become frail. Last time I saw Greg I was shocked by just how much he had aged. It's all part of the circle of life... but I still don't like it!

On a side note... I have an "unspoken" request for my family. I can't go into the details. Just ask God to show you how to pray. I believe He will be faithful to do so!

Easter Sunday

The power went out at the church so we moved the service to the fornt foyer.

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Behind the Scenes

Good Post-Conference Saturday! WOO! It was a long yet rewarding week, and now that the push is over I think I may be able to resume some blogging consistency.

A particular event of the last week has prompted me to write a blog providing some insight into the inner workings of Kara. In trying to keep with my theme of this blog - When words fail music picks up - "After much profound brain things inside my head" (quote from Madagascar which I am watching at present) for an appropriate song to be the theme. I quickly remembered a Francesca Battistelli song "Behind the Scenes." (Lyrics to follow.)

It would seem that I put off this exterior that I have it all together, and I don't struggle with insecurity or fear of rejection. I actually had someone say to me once, "We'll you're so strong I didn't think it would bother you." Uh... Though I have developed fairly tough skin and God has been faithful to replace my "chicken feathers with duck feathers" there is still a sensitive person inside. (Water off a duck's back.) In the same token, though I can get up and sing before 100s even 1000s, strike up conversations with random strangers and even speak publicly when necessary it's not really because I am so confident, or without insecurities. I have just learned to get over it and do it.

Yesterday I was discussing with a few co-workers/friends my fear and trepidation about talking to an attractive member of the opposite sex. One of them was completely floored by this. They actually commented to someone else, "Can you believe that Kara would have that problem?" I suppose he views me as so out going that he can't imagine I would have any social handicaps, but when it comes to talking to a guy... I'm completely lame. My stomach turns and I'm sure I will throw up at any moment. Not to mention my face turns about 35 shades of red and I start shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.

The same co-worker said I needed to get out from behind the cash register (my job during conferences) and mingle. While I agreed I put up a good fight as to why I can't do that - We don't have enough people. If I don't do it, who will. And so on....

My biggest fear, rejection. I have dealt with it so much over my 29 years, and am so familiar with it's sting that I shutter at any situation that sets me up for it's potential. I realize that it is imperative to press beyond this fear if I have any ambition of succeeding in life. I can say I do find it in me in most cases to do so, but it's hardly ever easy. The time it seems most impossible to overcome.... when thinking of talking to a boy. Obviously not every boy strikes this fear in me as I have lots of guy friends that I can easily talk to and hang out with. (Three of which dropped by unannounced and are currently sitting in my house.)

So, as yesterday's conversation started me pondering the way people see me vs. the way I feel on the inside, it also caused me to ponder something else. For some time I have been thinking about writing a blog about what it means to be pursued in regards to "dating." I was formulating my great argument about how guys should step it up and be pursuers and girls should let them but never had the time to put it all together. Yesterday I started wondering maybe my blog, which I originally decided would have been entitled "The Art of Being Pursued," would better be titled "Pursuit, Pride or Petrified."

Though I still think guys need to step it up, I started to wonder if my passion towards being pursued was just a front to hide behind. Much like hiding behind my cash register at conferences waiting for people to come to me. It's so much safer and though I can make a valid argument for staying behind my safe little table, it is my job after all, maybe it's a crutch, an excuse.

Is my passion for being pursued because it takes out the risk of rejection? I'm not talking about throwing myself at every eligible bachelor that crosses my path, but even Ruth had to let Boaz know she was available. I don't know... just trying to figure things out...

Anyway, the real point of this blog was to point out that everyone is more complicated than they may seem, me included. And while I realize my short comings and am trying to overcome them, through God's help, it's not always easy!

As promised above, here are the lyrics to the blog title inspiration:

Behind The Scenes - Lyrics

Behind The Scenes - Lyrics

Album: My Paper Heart
Artist: Francesca Battistelli

You may think
I’m just fine
How could anything
Ever be out of line?

I take my time
To set the stage
To make sure everything
Is all in place

Even though I’ve got the lines rehearsed
A picture only paints a thousand words

(Chorus)
Things aren’t always what they seem
You’re only seeing part of me
There’s more than you could ever know
Behind the scenes
I’m incomplete and I’m undone
But I suppose like everyone
There’s so much more that’s going on
Behind the scenes

Sometimes I can’t see
Anything
Through the dark
Surrounding me
And at times I’m unsure
About the ground
Beneath my feet
If it’s safe and sound

When it’s hard to find hope in the unseen
I have peace in knowing it will find me

(Chorus)

You may think I’m just fine
How could anything ever be out of line?

(Chorus)

From the album:

My Paper Heart

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April Showers

Our new lake. I now live in waterfront property.

April Showers

There is normally a pond here, but not a stream.

April Showers

Soon I won't be using the front door. Right now I'm thankful I live in a trailer that is unlikely to flood.

April Showers

The new lake in my front yard.

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