There are many confused people roaming this great big world of ours. Some are lonely. Some are down and out. Some can't coordinate their clothes to save their souls. What's to become of mankind if there isn't an intervention? Someone who cares, a voice of reason for troubled times? You know, someone with a blog that's filled with sage wisdom, handed down from the great thinkers of our time. Aren't these the questions that keep you up at night?
Well, fret no more, my friend! Hope rises on the horizon in a big sunny ray of light called "Dear Stacy". That's right; I'm here to lend a manicured hand to those wrestling with the pressing inconsistencies of life.
Though I can't balance a checkbook, I am rather astute at offering advice. In fact I have a friend who told me that if she ever needed advice I'd be the last person she called. Which only proves the age old adage, "It's always in the last place you look." (And like I've alluded to before, "it's" all about me anyway.)
I'd like to demonstrate exactly what I mean. In the comments section of Stacy from Louisville I found two lost souls, each wandering a different path, desperate for counsel. Never mind that neither one really wanted my input. The fact is, God used this situation to hone my skills, as I'm sure you will soon see...
Dear Stacy,
I'm swimming like crazy trying to escape the pull of the women's ministry vortex of death. I'm the part-time minister of music's wife (the music is part time, not the wife) in what to me is a tiny church. Kinda hard to avoid the questions (as to why I'm avoiding the meetings), but so far, so good. They meet during the Sunday evening service, so my "preference" hasn't been an issue. If they ever change the time, I'm toast. Why does women's ministry have to be so stinkin' sweet? Sometimes life is just plain stinkin'. And you bet I'm anonymous on this one.
Stacy from Louisville said...
Dear Anon,
You're caught between a rock and a hard place. (I like to say that because it's so fresh and I'm cool like that) If you ever even think they're going to change the times (your women's group meets) I would immediately start volunteering somewhere. Even if you have to shake hands during flu season as an unpaid, unofficial Wal-Mart greeter, so be it. Then you can tell people, "I would love to go to women's group but I have been spending time with the elderly." Seriously, you will become a saint.
0-~,
Stacy
Dear Stacy,
I'm moving to Zambia (where it rains a LOT) and now I'm thinking about getting some of my own salvation pants ~ perhaps in bright, obnoxious pink with rhinestone accents?
Hilarious post! Keep em’ coming!
Gabriele
Gabriele,
Since I am not sure why you are moving to Zambia I can't adequately advise you on fashion dos and don'ts. But lack of information has never stopped me from handing out my 2 cents so here you go. To make the pink salvation pants work I would suggest paring them with a form fitting black turtleneck and a silver rope choker necklace. Top it all off with lots of eyeliner and a black beret and voila! Sex in the City meets Salvation Pants in Zambia. It's like I always say, if you don't look good, Jesus don't look good.
0-~,
Stacy
So there you have it. Two whole people whose lives were changed from my wisdom. Still have doubts? Look at it this way: Right now there is someone walking the streets of Zambia rockin’ some hot pink waist-high waiders and making a huge fashion statement. As I’m sure you know, there are some places in the world where they don’t take Americans seriously. I shudder to think what might have happened if I wouldn’t have intervened.
Now all this wisdom is available at your fingertips. I’m here to HELP YOU. Stuck in a quandary? Tell me about it. Confused by something in church culture? Let me help. Need a sermon illustration? I did go to Bible College, after all, which makes me a professional in this area too. Whatever your conundrum, concern, or controversy, I’ve got nothin’ but love for you. This is my calling, dear reader. (Yes, all one of you…) Dare I day it’s my life’s mission. All this and spoofing 80s lyrics wrapped in one penitent package. Who knew?
Just so you know, there is no charge for my services. I reject the notion that “You only get what you pay for”. Here at Stacy From Louisville, I like to say “The best things in life are free” (Excluding my Christmas gifts, of course.) So let me help you. Leave you question or comment. Much like an unofficial Wal-Mart greeter I know, you’ll be glad you did.
Depending on whether or not all 3 of you reading this today leave a question you’ll be seeing my answers in the form of an entire post in the days and weeks to come. Is that service or what? Now, should your situation be urgent, please let me know. Far be it from me to have you suffer needlessly. Oh, yes, you’re in good hands
“Dear Stacy” is just a few clicks away. How can I help you today????
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
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13 comments:
"if you don't look good, Jesus doesn't look good"?
where are my depends???
Dear Stacy, I'm addicted to blogs. Once I sit down at my PC, I'm here for hours. The worst symptom of this addiction is my behind seems to be growing bigger and bigger. How can I stop this spreadage without giving up my new passion?
Dear Stacy,
I have a full-time (albeit, mostly work from home) job, a husband, an infant, ministry commitments, an incredibly filthy apartment, and a blog that is in desperate need of regular maintenance. How can I manage to get my work done, nurture and feed my family, continue in my women's Bible study, prevent bacteria from overtaking my entire home, AND manage to do a little something for me (and my one whole blog reader) without adding four hours to the day? Your family looks pretty clean in the photos you've posted, and you manage to update this thing fairly regularly, so I imagine you must be the sensei I need.
Dear Stacy, where do we leave our annoying kids? Is there a country only smart parents know about, where they leave their snarky kids? Then it looks like they only have GOOD and upright, Greek and Latin quoting kids who are too busy helping the poor and down trodden to mouth off to their moms???? Can I PLEASE get a kid's one-way fare to Reformimand??
Did u know we think yer kewl?
See?? I can't even speak ENglish anymore!!!!
Dear Stacy,
I do not like the random "stand up and shake hands" with a neighbor at church. That being said, I managed to avoid participating for about a year, due to chemo/radiation. A thing my hubby refered to as my "cancer blessing". Well, I guess that I can't get away with it anymore because I have been called out by a couple people. I have tried to busy myself, so as not to appear "able to stand" and I have even faked sneezed and looked upset that I was unable to extend my appendage. Any ideas what to do next?
Dear Stacy,
We all know that in order to get a manicure in Kentucky you have to cross state lines and find a Waffle House somewhere else in the south who let's a few beauty school drop outs give 'manicures' in the back. Since you are driving all the way from Kentucky to find such an upscale salon, you will be expected to pay in moonshine, and a vintage Kentucky derby hat.
Ok, that's off my chest. I know you don't have a manicure.
I have some serious questions, but you are the only the second to last friend I would ask, so I'm not quite desperate enough yet. Love ya like a white trash flamingo.
De-lurking for this message. First, I heart your blog so much and your comments over at SCL.
So...
Dear Stacy,
Is the "team game" unchristian?
An example of the team game: Sistah Dubh and Mhari Dubh (that's me) are walking into Michael's craft store and see the following glorious vision:
A woman of a certain age in purple from head to toe; that's right purple pumps and (I'm guessing) purple knee-hi nylons to the GIANT (I mean humongous) purple multi-petalled fake flower in her (and I may have imagined) slightly purple tinted poodle-tight permed do.
Within a split-second of taking this all in Mhari Dubh says to Sistah Dubh, "she is so on your team!" Sistah Dubh replies, "argh! not fair"
We have found that we must declare "team game off" at State Fairs because, really, we wouldn't be able to eat our deep fried twinkies.
Dear Stacy,
I have insomnia. Please help! I find myself reading this blog and the SCL blog because I laugh, which is much better than the alternative of laying in bed and cursing. (I don't think Jesus is a big fan of my new potty-mouth habit! :) Help!
Uh, yeah, mine is urgent.
Dear Stace,
Why the rakin frakin heck do I still not have power, water, gasoline or the internet?!? I had to tuck tail and run up to Lake Charles and how do you like this? I had promised my babies happy meals because they kept asking why Jesus sent a storm that ripped massive trees out of the ground in front of their little eyes so I just said HAPPY MEALS! Mama will get you Happy Meals! We drive 3 hours away and NO RAKIN FRAKIN HAPPY MEALS! Why Stace? Why? Grace & Peace, daphne
Dear Stacy,
I saw leg warmers on sale at Clairs the other day, in Texas no less, is there any way possible to prevent this scary trend from making a reappearance into American culture?
Dear Stacy,
I have a friend who recently started a new blog and she seems to have garnered quite a following already... she claims to believe she only has one or two readers, but the fact that this is the 11th comment on this blog proves that there are at least 11, probably 30 or more because we all know that not everyone who reads a blog actually leaves a comment... my question then is, how can I keep this poor soul from getting a big head? :)
this isn't a 'Dear Stacy', but Daphne's post just made my day. Read it with emotion and then end it in a telephone voice.
Guaranteed laugh.
well, steph, I AM a Christian. Gotta get my God shout out said in a nice telephone voice in there, otherwise you may think I am a sweaty Philistine. At the time of my post I happen to be sweaty from no power or a/c for 3 days, but still, I am a Christian, NOT a Philistine. Grace & Peace, daphne
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