Stacy from Louisville

My Grandma Is With Jesus

2010-02-20T09:45:00.000-08:00

Florence Marie (Hearte) Rees, my grandma, went to be with Jesus on Sunday, February 14. She has been in hospice care for a long time and suffering a great deal. But now that suffering has ended and I praise God that this Godly woman is forever healthy and rejoicing.

She was my spiritual mentor, my friend, and a Proverbs 31 woman. For 35 years I gleaned her wisdom, wit, love. Our love was as mutual as our love for gravy and lemon meringue pie (but not at the same time).

My greatest peace is knowing that when she did die there were no words left unsaid between us, months ago she had even asked me to tell her goodbye at that point in case she could not do so later. She then laid hands on me and blessed my marriage, my family, and my walk with Christ. I ask you, how often do we get such selflessness in life? She gave me all she had then so I could grieve in advance and begin to prepare myself for her death. What a gift!

She died peacefully at my parents' home. I sat by her side for a good length time before they moved her from the home. It was an honor to read Scripture, sing her favorite hymns, and sprinkle rose petals around her bed. In our culture we often think if death as terrifying, or unsightly. Yet for me this was one of the most beautiful, peaceful experiences of my life. I liken it to the birth of my children, the difference being that my grandma was delivered to Jesus' side. For a woman who saw me at my best and worst - and gave me all she had - this was the least I could do.

She will be laid to rest in Ft Meyers, Florida, with my grandpa (who was equally awesome). As her legacy she leaves behind her daughter, Linda and her husband Harold Taylor, Lisa and Eric Howard, me and Dan and 5 adorable, though delightfully silly, great grandchildren. We all adored her. Pray that her death will help bring my mother to the Lord.

The following is the Scripture I read at her bedside as I said my final goodbyes:

Psalm 116
1 I love the LORD, for he heard my voice;
he heard my cry for mercy.
2 Because he turned his ear to me,
I will call on him as long as I live.
3 The cords of death entangled me,
the anguish of the grave [a] came upon me;
I was overcome by trouble and sorrow.
4 Then I called on the name of the LORD :
"O LORD, save me!"
5 The LORD is gracious and righteous;
our God is full of compassion.
6 The LORD protects the simplehearted;
when I was in great need, he saved me.
7 Be at rest once more, O my soul,
for the LORD has been good to you.
8 For you, O LORD, have delivered my soul from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling,
9 that I may walk before the LORD
in the land of the living.
10 I believed; therefore [b] I said,
"I am greatly afflicted."
11 And in my dismay I said,
"All men are liars."
12 How can I repay the LORD
for all his goodness to me?
13 I will lift up the cup of salvation
and call on the name of the LORD.
14 I will fulfill my vows to the LORD
in the presence of all his people.
15 Precious in the sight of the LORD
is the death of his saints.
16 O LORD, truly I am your servant;
I am your servant, the son of your maidservant [c] ;
you have freed me from my chains.
17 I will sacrifice a thank offering to you
and call on the name of the LORD.
18 I will fulfill my vows to the LORD
in the presence of all his people,
19 in the courts of the house of the LORD—
in your midst, O Jerusalem.
Praise the LORD. [d]

Do Not Anger The Man Behind The Screen

2010-02-01T03:00:00.000-08:00

To Hell In A Haiti Basket

2010-01-21T06:11:00.000-08:00

200,000 estimated dead from the Haitian earthquake.
250,000 estimated injured.

Such devastation, and yet the statistics don't end with these numbers. With the potential for infectious disease looming the death and displacement numbers will likely skyrocket. For me it's heart wrenching.

But these statistics aren't nearly as disgusting as what I've seen in some Christian circles.

Here is a glimpse into the Christian conversations I've heard and seen.

Is this God's judgement on Haiti? (due to voodoo practices) This must be their call to repent.

Why should we help Haiti now? They've been content with poverty and lack of government as their standard. It's not our job to bail them out.

This is God's mercy - bringing death - to Haiti. (That's right, they're poor, put them out of their misery. Oh, and while we're at it, my grandma is in Hospice care. Let's help her out of her misery, too...)

I've had enough of this ridiculousness. Look again at the girl in the picture. Ask her if she need our flawed human intellect. Or does she need water, food, shelter, hope?

Pick nearly any moral cause and somewhere there's sweat dripping off the brow of those fighting against it. Yet here we have possibly the greatest natural disaster (in terms of causalities and displacement) we've seen in recent history and obscured theology threatens to override action.

Regardless of who we are, or any questions we have, one pivotal issue cannot be ignored: God loves the people of Haiti. Is there corruption in that country? Yes. Is the country riddled with poverty? Absolutely. Do voodoo and witchcraft practice obscure? No doubt. While spiritually these issues are significant it doesn't change the fact that Jesus came for the sick, the ones who need Him most.

Like many I wondered, "Why Haiti?" I think that's a normal question in the face of such suffering. There will always be circumstances that prompt us to ask God, "Why?" Yet, does knowing the answer to that question change our response? I hope not. Our job as Believers is to pray, to give, to serve, to love. Entertaining judgement over the circumstance accomplishes none of these. We are to be Jesus Christ to the hurting, regardless.

Action will always outweigh reflection. While contemplation is valid and allows us to learn, if we camp out there, we can spend too long sitting on our haunches and forget to do anything. Is it wrong to want to understand what happened in Haiti? No. But if understanding is our goal we're headed to hell in a Haiti basket.

Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain. I Corinthians 15:58

Defined Abs (or Yoga Plan B)

2010-01-19T03:00:00.000-08:00

This is a Stacy From Louisville Public Service Announcement. Watch carefully.

This is brilliant. To think, I got it on YouTube for free! Here I am, practically unable to feed my family due to pricey yoga classes, when this has been out there all along. I'm a horrible, selfish person. So I gave this a shot but all I could track down was a yellow highlighter. Unfortunately, my abs don't look as defined as much as they look like I've got hepatitas. Or stupidity. (Incidentally, there are strains of either one are incurable.)

Please make special notes of what is said at :23 and 1:33. Priceless. Kids, I'm telling you, it doesn't get better than this.

Hot Yoga: It Just Might Kill Me

2010-01-18T03:00:00.000-08:00

For me, being ridiculous really isn't hard. I don't even have to try. Like an inoperable mole, it's just something that happens. That's why I need a blog. It's my attempt to reach out to all of cyber space and say, "Hey World! Guess what I did besides leaving the parking break on and calling my husband at work to have the car towed because, 'All the tires spin but one. Something is very wrong.'" (Yeah. That really happened.) (And yeah, something is really wrong. With me.)

My latest exercise in crazy started a week ago. Bikram Yoga's the name, torture's the game. In case you're not familiar imagine bike shorts, 105 degrees + 30% humidity and body contortions that rival Cirque Du Soleil. That's Bikram. And it's aggressive.

Then there's me. Completely allergic to all exercise. Overweight. Chronic pain sufferer with a keen sass. Despite our seeming incompatibility I decided to give Bikram a whirl because my current regimen of TV, couch, Twinkies wasn't producing the results I desired. Here's what happened...

Day 1

I got yoga shorts for today. When I put them on I suddenly realized I had overestimated what size to purchase. They were huge in the waist. No big deal, I thought, so off to class. Everything is fine until I start to sweat. My yoga mat sticks to me....and I try to turn around for a sitting pose....and my pants get yanked down midway on my butt. The instructor, who apparently hasn't seen my posterior hanging out, says, "Stacy, move as quickly as you can to the resting posture!" So I'm trying to do what he says while yanking on my shorts and focusing on my breathing. (I sincerely apologize to those of you who didn't want this visual. Keep in mind, I am not attractive and I was sweating like a pack mule.) With resolve, and repositioned shorts, I 'm determined to give it another shot. Why? Because I kinda like it.

Day 2

My facebook status reads: "Bikram yoga hasn't killed me. I only wish it had." Today was my 2nd day for yoga ever. I'm in so much pain. Sure, many people do yoga and live to tell about it. What I have to wonder is did any of these people ever not want to pull their limbs from their body and beat themselves with them until they died? Because that's how I'm feeling right now. Plus, fat and out the money I paid for a month of sessions.

Day 3

I master my first pose! Standing with my toes facing forward, I breathe in. Lift right foot off the ground and pull toward my abdomen. Insert right toe into left spleen. Focus and pray for God to kill me. Stepping over my open fractures, the instructor says I'm doing very well. Interestingly, I go a full 24 hours without a headache...for the first time in over 5 years. I'm going back.

Day 4

Are you kidding me? The room is 108 degrees. The humidity is cranked. I'm beet red. But what the crap?! I've morphed into Elastagirl. A year ago I literally couldn't walk across my living room. Today I can balance on the ball of my foot while draping my other leg around my neck like an unnecessary scarf. Okay, maybe not, but still. In 4 days my abs are slightly defined, my arms are stronger and rumor has it there's muscle in my thighs. I feel healthier. Maybe that's because I've made an effort. Or maybe because I'm endorphin drunk. All I know is that Bikram Yoga is amazing. It's super hard - but I can do it. For right now that's enough.

Here's a picture of me at my last class. Do you like my headband? Or is it too much?

Water Doesn't Break

2010-01-16T06:32:00.000-08:00

Toys break. I throw them away.

Appliances break and are replaced.

Glass breaks. Dishes break. Fingernails break. Pencils break.

Cars break down.

Hearts, dreams, and the will can be broken. Yet with resolve they reassemble.

But what about a country? What happens when it breaks? Or, better said, what happens when literally and figuratively, people break? They rip at the seams. Their bodies are crushed. They die. Or they mourn, wailing over brokenness that can't be patched up, replaced, thrown out, or ignored.

On Tuesday Haiti broke. It broke into pieces from the inside out. The earth's massive shift caused calamity, potentially the worst disaster in human history. That's right. In. Human. History.

After reading a missionary's blog (link below) I understand that driving down the street resembles the scene in Hotel Rwanda when the jeep, thought to be hitting rough terrain, was actually running over bodies strewn in the street. I saw the scene from the movie and nearly vomited. Though based on a true story it was easy to tell myself, "It's just a movie." But it wasn't. And right now in Haiti there is no pause button, no luxury of hitting stop on a remote to gather ones senses. (Visit the Castillo Family 's blog. They work with Northwest Haiti Christian Mission .)

I cried for Haiti - three days ago, two days ago, yesterday, this morning. I cried for people I don't know, but love, because Christ in me is compelled to do so.

As I would look for news reports on websites I was stunned to see advertising along the borders. Companies selling jewelry, weight loss, entertainment news. And just like when I watched Hotel Rwanda I wanted to vomit.

Broken Haiti. Can you imagine? Heat, dust, stench, and no clean water. Not just a drop, but gallons heaped upon each other is what I pray for these people. Biblically speaking, water is symbolic for the Holy Spirit. In both ways, Haiti, may it be available to drink in. Drink it in deeply.

To ask why this happened, for me, isn't the point. What I'm more willing to pray is, "God, show me how to focus my prayers for Haiti because I'm at a loss." Then God confirmed my instincts.

Water. Give them water.

So, for Dan and I, that's what we're going to do. Some friends of ours who provide water for poverty stricken areas are headed to Haiti to provide permanent clean water solutions. We are backing them financially.

Ironically, water in itself, doesn't break. Just like the Holy Spirit, it is poured out to saturate whatever it touches.

Figuratively speaking I've been drenched in the water of Haiti. Maybe it's the tears of God. Regardless, my broken heart is a constant reminder to pray. With every pang that sears my chest it's a reminder to beg God for mercy.

For water for dry throats, for life.

For water of the Spirit to reign down, now and always.

God is with you Haiti. Today, may there be water, fresh and clean. Because water doesn't break.

How are you praying for Haiti?

Breathe Deep

2010-01-06T03:00:00.000-08:00

In interest of simplicity, take this in. Then, breathe deep. (Turn up your speakers & don't let the intro throw you.)

How do you think you'd be different if you were willing to just breathe Him in? I'll go first. I'd be calmer. Just before I yell, get angry, or generally lose it, I'd stop. I'd stop and say no to the nastiness that makes me anxious or depressed. I'd stop, calm down, and breathe Him in. It's something He's teaching me right now.

How about you?

2010-01-05T11:09:00.001-08:00

Resolutions, SFL Style

2010-01-04T09:46:00.000-08:00

(for Lana and Leslie, thanks for the advice)

Since the Mayan calendar says the world will end in 2012 I figure I only have 2 years to go out in style. So this year I have made some resolutions that seem to suit me. I'm putting my best Christmas Shoes forward and here's what I've decided.

My resolutions include:

1)HOT yoga. Who wants to pay $150 to sweat like a pig? Me! I'm going to be Elastagirl, only much more sarcastic, with the only sequin yoga pants in the room. There are some compromises I have had to make for this to happen. The greatest sacrifice: bike shorts. It has been a life long theory that spandex is a privilege, not a right, and that any clingy clothing should come with a disclaimer (read: weight limit). As someone who could stand to lose more than a few pounds I am not a proponent of the big is beautiful theory. The idea that ultra tight clothing makes me more attractive is a lie from the pit of hell. Believe this: if it bulges, shakes, ripples, or cottage cheeses it will be covered, bound and moo-mooed. Period. Until now.

2) Raw foods. I bought a juicer. Why I haven't thought to start my mornings with a fresh glass of kale, garlic and beet juice is any one's guess. The bonus about beginning my day this way is from now on, no one will knows for sure if I have brushed my teeth in the last Milena. Sure, I could be juicing apples, oranges, pears, etc. but what's the fun in that? To be healthy I am choosing sweat(as mentioned above) and vowing to drink pungent vegetables that smell like puke in a bottle. So far, so good.

3) No pets this year. We thought about getting the kids a Guinea Pig. But then figured they probably taste like chicken so decided it was a waste. This will be a pet-dander free home for all of 2010, given that I don't forget to shave my armpits in July and August. Someone remind me.

4) More Bible, less TV. For years I have been trying to find the hidden Biblical meaning in "Desperate Housewives" but have failed. I'm thinking C.S. Lewis could have helped me but as of late he is still dead. I hate when that happens. In all seriousness, media is too prominent in my life. What if Scripture molded my thinking instead of Mario Lopez? Sure, there won't be as many delightful erectile dysfunction commercials but I think I will survive, but just barely. I'll let you know.

5) Less ignoring of children, specifically my own. Given that as I write this they are in the living room doing only heaven knows what with Sharpies, but still. When I'm not wrongly annoyed because they are "in my way" I find they are awesome. I enjoy their company more than the distraction I put before them. This is not a hard resolution, or at least not today anyway.

So there you have it. It's 2010 and I'm already on my way to being a better person. God inspires it and meets me right where I am when it seems like drudgery. For most, resolutions are fleeting, which is understandable. But if being sick of sin is motivation to keep going, then I'm going. Surely I'll mess up along the way but I'm good with it. It's all a process.

What are your resolutions?

Speaking of ED commercials, here's one for the road....

I'm Just Sayin'

2009-12-29T19:04:00.001-08:00

Potential: Not Everyone Gets To Be An Astronaut When They Grow Up

(Good luck.)

12 Days of Christmas

2009-12-22T05:59:00.000-08:00

Just one of the many reasons I love youtube. What's your favorite youtube video? Please leave some link love.

Blessings In The Mundane

2009-12-20T20:19:00.000-08:00

(Today's post was written by my sister, Lisa. Not only does she get to be my sister, she is the wife of Eric, a minister to homeless and runaway youth in Indianapolis, IN. They have 3 girls, Addi (6), Makenna (3), & Cora (2). She is an exceptional wife and mother. But a gross cook. Just kidding.)

When I do laundry its a 1 time a week event. I like to call it laundry mountain. It consumes our basement and is a bit overwhelming in mass, but I would rather do it that way than some everyday. Yesterday I said to Makenna (3), "Makenna, who has been wearing all these clothes?" Of course she began to name us all in the house. Then I said "Who said we could wear all these clothes?" Makenna says "Jesus said we could"

Well, that floored me. Not because Makenna is so profound, but because of the implications of what she said. I know that the Lord used her at that moment to speak to me. At that moment I realized that she was right- Jesus is the one who has provided us all those clothes and cause of his abundant provision to us, I am to care for them in response to that provision. I realized how in a little thing like laundry I was being ungrateful to the Giver of all my things.

I am sharing this because I have been chewing on it the last couple of days. I am blown away by how, when I search my heart, I have an ungrateful attitude towards most of the mundane things I do each day. I get easily overwhelmed by the unending list of 'to do's. I never realized because I am actually doing them in response to the Lord's provision for what I have been given: I wash dishes/ unload the dishwasher(my least favorite thing on the planet) because we have dishes and food to eat, I vaccum because we have carpets that keep our feet warm and us comfortable, I change the sheets because I have a bed to sleep in, I stay home in my unglamorous glory everyday because Eric works hard for us, I scrub the bathroom because we have the opportunity to use toothpaste/ an indoor toilet, I pick up around the house because am blessed with a family, I clean out the van because I have a vehicle to drive. The list goes on and on.

Maybe this doesn't hit home for you. However I wanted to share in case it does.

Lisa

So, what about you? What do you care for out of God's provision? For me, out of God's provision, I try to keep my tongue in check. I can build God's Truth into my kids or I can rip them to shreds. Also, I cook every day, trying really hard to be frugal.

Ditto

2009-12-17T20:56:00.000-08:00

I've made a decision. I'm giving up on people pleasing - there will be no perfect gift, meal, decorations or children for us this Christmas. "Dittos" of the world unite. Haven't you heard? "Average" is the new awesome. I'm going to be who He made me to be. Everything else is less than who He loves - it's true for me, it's true for you. Rest in a baby in a manger. Maybe together we'll find simplicity is divine.

Much love to you,

Stacy

Christmas Shoes - New & Improved!

2009-12-16T16:32:00.000-08:00

Listening to the radio the other day the DJ said, "You're either going to need a tissue as you cry through this song or you will decide to adjust your spam filter. Here it is, "Christmas Shoes". Just a few notes into the song 2 things happened to me: 1) my ears started to bleed and 2) for a split second I wished I were Jewish. (Plus, I've always thought Dan would look hot in a yarmulke.)

I hate the song "Christmas Shoes". Do you feel the same way? Other than the song itself I have not real framework for the story. But based on the song alone here's what I gather...

There's a kid with a sick mom. She's going to die. So instead of comforting her as she dies he decides she won't be able to get into heaven unless she's well dressed. (Some women's ministry programs operate on this same premise. Just saying.) So he goes out to Footlocker on Christmas Eve. Instead of selecting a nice, sensible Hush Puppy, he selects some red, crystal encrusted Dior heels for about $450. He gets up to pay for the shoes, and even though he knocked over a 7-11 on his way over, he doesn't enough coin for the bling. So he deviously cons the guy behind him in line out of some mad cash. He buys the shoes. He shoves the receipt in his pocket. And laughs all the way home. He's taking them back the day after Christmas and pocketing the proceeds.

That's the way it should be anyway. I mean, seriously, people! Who wrote this song? I don't know if there are world religions that offer divine merit based on footwear, but maybe that's what they were thinking.

I toyed with putting the song and video to "Christmas Shoes" up today. But I wouldn't want you to think I endorse such behavior.

If someone were to haphazardly turn on the super sunny Christian radio station and hear "Christmas Shoes" they'd think we're a sad bunch. Maybe this is better.

(George, I would never dis you on Christmas. Steal your mousse, maybe. But never would I break your heart. E.V.E.R.)

So, what's your least favorite Christmas song?

Why Women Should Not Take Men Christmas Shopping

2009-12-14T02:00:00.000-08:00

No one hates to go shopping more than my husband. So I do almost all of the Christmas shopping, which usually works to my advantage. Imagine Christmas morning in the Small household: our son, 6, is reveling in his new set of box cutters. Our daughter, 8, prances around in her new sequin tube top. Dan gets his 5th ratchet set because apparently 1 isn't enough. Then, Oh! Look! What's that small velvet box under the tree? (Which is his cue to find what's left.) "Honey," I say. "Read the card to me." He clears his throat. "To Stacy From Dan... I'm the world's luckiest guy. You are crazy hot!" (Which is what he would say if he were a wordsmith like me.)Well would you look at that? Dan got me a shiny ring for Christmas! Wasn't that nice of him? And especially generous considering we bounced the mortgage payment for December.

Given Dan's disdain for shopping, and that he has this in common with most men, I decided to share with you something a friend sent me. Consider it a reminder to let your spouse off the hook when it comes to selecting gifts.

WHY WOMEN SHOULDN'T TAKE MEN SHOPPING

After I retired, my wife insisted that I accompany her on her trips to Target.
Unfortunately, like most men, I found shopping boring and preferred to get
in and get out. Equally unfortunate, my wife is like most women - she
loves to browse. Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter
from the local Target.

Dear Mrs. Warner,

Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion in our
store. We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to ban both
of you from the store. Our complaints against your husband, Mr. Warner,
are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras.

1. June 15: Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other
people's carts when they weren't looking.

2. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.

3. July 7: He made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's
restroom.

4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice,
'Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right away'. This caused the employee to
leave her assigned station and receive a reprimand from her Supervisor that
in turn resulted with a union grievance, causing management to lose time
and costing the company money.

5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&Ms
on layaway.

6. August 14: Moved a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.

7. August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told the children
shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from
the bedding department to which twenty children obliged.

8. August 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and
screamed, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?' EMTs were called.

9. September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a
mirror while he picked his nose. For 10 full minutes.

10. September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked
the clerk where the antidepressants were.

11. October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming
the 'Mission Impossible' theme.

12. October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his 'Madonna look' by
using different sizes of funnels.

13. October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through,
yelled 'PICK ME! PICK ME!'

14. October 21: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed
a fetal position and screamed 'OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!'

And last, but not least:

15. October 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile,
then yelled very loudly, 'Hey! There's no toilet paper in here.' One of
the clerks nearly passed out.

This list feels pretty complete but what do you think? Any other reasons not to force the man in your life into Christmas shopping?

The Alternative Christmas Letter - SFL Encore

2009-12-09T02:00:00.000-08:00

(Of all the posts I've written this is one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy it, too. Feel free to cut, paste, and send it out as your own. But change the picture first. You're probably more attractive anyway.)

Christmas brings out strange behavior. Case in point, the traditional Christmas letter. You know what I'm talking about. Or maybe you've even sent one yourself, I know I have. It generally goes something like this:

1) Pay a photographer $500 for 1 picture in which every member of your family looks perfect. Usually this involves matching Polos and lots of airbrushing.

2) Write an exaggerated narrative about family events over the past 12 months. For example, "Jill learned to color" becomes "Jill, though only 2, shows artistic promise as she boldly experiments with color and design". Or, "Life really sucked this year. The fact that we never heard from you once means you're a jerk" becomes "God is teaching us to depend on Him in this season of growth".

3) Send the photo and the letter to people you haven't seen in at least 3 years. Why? Because people who snub us deserve to know what they're missing out on: the perfection that is your family. Sure, you may have put the dog down this year but for the most part the year was without incident. Unless the kids poisoned the dog. In which case, your kids my look perfect but, trust me, they're headed to Juvie.

I must admit, we get lots of these traditional Christmas letters. Wanna hear a secret? (Lean in close to the screen - I'm whisper-typing.) We don't always read them. They get old and boring and...well...we really don't care how great a soccer player your kid is.....or how your new job as hot dog vendor at Weenie Hut is amazing....or how very cozy you feel in your Snuggie. I just don't care.

So, in response to the throng of Christmas letters that flood our mailbox every year, our family has chosen The Alternative Christmas Letter approach. What you are about to read is the actual Christmas photo and letter we are sending this year. But I wanted to share it with you first.

Dear Family and Friends,

Merry Christmas! We wanted to send you a letter to let you know what we’ve been up to this last year.

We still live in a house. It is in Kentucky. We live close to some family members, but far away from others. We try to get together. Sometimes it works out and we have fun. Other times it does not.

This year we all had birthdays. We have a tradition where we give gifts and have cake. Sometimes we have ice cream, other times we do not. We also blow out candles, which is nice. Every person gets cake because it is good to share.

Dan has a job. He works hard. He gets up, goes to work, works all day and comes home just before dinner. Most days he does this, some days he does not. On the days he does not work he is sick or it is a weekend or maybe even a holiday.

Both kids are in school. Our daughter wakes up every day. So does our son. They put on clothes, eat breakfast, and get in the car. They go to school and stay until they are picked up. They also eat lunch nearly every day when they are hungry.

Stacy stays home some days. Some days she goes out to the store. She buys food and sometimes even underwear or shoes for the kids. Most days she makes dinner. Some days we eat chicken. Other days we eat beef or sandwiches. Usually there is a vegetable but not always. When dinner is ready we like to eat it. We use forks except for when we have soup.

We had all four seasons this year. In the winter it was cold for the most part. Some days it snowed. We would look outside and say, “Look. Snow.” We enjoyed saying this. Then we had spring. Some days it was warmer, other days it was not. Then summer came. When it was hot we would come inside. When we did this we might have a cold drink or say, “It’s hot today.” But we did not say that every day, just some days. Then it was Fall. We had colder weather. The leaves came off the trees. “Look”, we said. “Leaves.”

We went to church a good amount. We sang songs. We listened to people talk. We tried to be happy about what they say. The kids learnd about God and use plenty of glue. Sometimes there are even puppets.

Some of you are nice to us. We try to keep in touch. If you send a letter we will read it. If you call we will answer the phone. We like to say things like “Hello” and “How are you?” Being nice is good.

It has been so good to catch up with you. Merry Christmas.

Have a nice day,

The Smalls

An Interview With Satan

2009-12-07T17:22:00.000-08:00

I'm sure we all have a good answer for this question: What is the most ridiculous argument you've ever heard in church? Let's talk about crazy displays of disunity.

White Elephant Gift Exchange 2009

2009-12-06T20:31:00.000-08:00

I'm a hardcore white elephant gift exchanger. I know I probably need therapy or at least a new hobby. Yet for this admitted prankster the white elephant gift exchange shines like a floodlight in a deserted Dollar General parking lot. For a few fleeting moments it's as if Santa is just asking to be depantsed in the name of universally lame gift giving. (Enter The Snuggie, The Shamwow, The Slap Chop.)

On Saturday our Sunday School class amassed for a Christmas party. Now let me be frank. I did not attend this yearly event because the food was delicious. My attendance also had nothing to do with the fellowship (though I must say the "I'm Gonna Get You Sucka" analysis did make me more than a little chortle tipsy). The reason I attend this event is because I spend months configuring the perfect white elephant gift. (The balance of embarrassment, sarcasm, and shock is delicate. Personally, I think it's some kind of gift.)

As I wrote last year there are tremendous ways to sabotage such an exchange. This year however, I took my own advice, threw caution to the wind, and gave away this little gem, note and all.

The Baby Making Date Night Kit!

Contents include:
1 regifted $25 Red Robin gift card (unused)
1 Colt 45 Malt Liquor 22 oz. beverage for 2
1 red bottle opener
1,000,000 possibilities

That's right. I said "Malt Liquor" and "Sunday school class" in the same post. (You are welcome.)

When the Colt 45 made its grand appearance eyes popped like bottle rockets on the 4th of July. Though I can't prove it I think there was a whole section of folks who weren't offended but were pretty sure someone was gonna have some 'splainin' to do to some elders.

For other reasons I can't quite figure 3 whole people yelled at the top of their lungs, "STACY SMALL! YOU BROUGHT THAT, DIDN'T YOU!?"

Now, a note on white elephant gift psychology. We all know the point of the game is to leave the party with the least crappy gift. The conundrum with the Date Night Baby Maker is an inner struggle with moral depravity. One might think to himself, "Red Robin gift card? For $25? Not bad. But I must claim the Satan water to get it. Am I ready to reveal my inner wino?"

A friend sitting next to me said, "What is the difference between beer and malt liquor?"

"Trashiness," I replied.

She tilted her head to the side to let that sink in. I tilted my head to the side as I evaluated how I knew the answer to her question. (If you are reading this while enjoying a nice malt liquor I appologize sincerely. No joke at your expense to be sure. Cheers.)

You will be happy to know the Date Night Baby Maker made the rounds that evening. It finally found a place to call home with one of my friends. She leaned across the table and said, "I'm always looking for something to do with the kids when my husband works late." I think she meant taking the kids out to dinner, but who am I to judge? I'm the kind of person who brings Colt 45 to an otherwise Christian outing.

What's the worst (or best) white elephant gift you have ever given? What will you be taking to your white elephant this year?

Bohemian Rhapsody

2009-12-03T21:11:00.000-08:00

As a child The Muppets terrified me. "Why do people laugh at the Swedish Chef?" I wondered. "He doesn't have eyes. I can't understand what he is saying. Why won't someone help him?" For a 4 year old it was all too much. I'd lay in bed and pray my Holly Hobby sheets would protect me from Pigs In Space. Though my sensibilities are less delicate today my opinion of The Muppets hasn't changed. That is, until I saw this. Bohemian Rhapsody, perhaps one of my favorite (albeit shockingly twisted) songs sung by the various creatures who forced me into therapy. Pure genius, even if they are made from asbestos, Yak hair and Hawiian Punch.

Don't miss my husband's cameo at 3:46.

Where's your cameo? Which character are you? (I pop up at 3:59)

Dear Reader,

2009-12-02T14:17:00.001-08:00

Jon Acuff once said, "The best way to overcome writer's block is to write about writer's block until the ideas begin to flow."

I responded, "No, Silly, the best way to overcome writer's block is plagiarism." No one else agreed with me. It was one of those "Jon is handing out sage wisdom" moments and I was just being a ridiculous. Go figure.

Here I sit with the opposite of writer's block. Right now I have ideas spinning through my head a mile a minute.

Since September life has not made sense. It started with my dad having a heart attack around the middle of the month. A few days later as I laid down highway miles traveling to his heart surgery, Dan called. A raspy, tearful voice, barely recognizable to me, demanded me to pull over. "You need to come home, Stacy. My dad is dead."

"NO! NO! NO!" Over and over I screamed. The patriarch of our family, our "go to" guy, our protection in the storm was gone. Hit head on while riding his Harley, he died on impact, taking a piece of me and the rest of the family with him into eternity.

My husband's brother's wife and I often joke that we would have married either of the boys just to get into the family. When I married Dan, the love I shared for his parents really sweetened the deal. In fact, at our wedding, Dan's dad, David, made a toast to me. He raised his glass and simply said, "Stacy today I'm proud to be called your dad." It's my favorite memory of him.

We have lost so much. Together we have been grieving, remembering, and moving on. It's a slow process. The art of letting go seems contorted, after all, we're not made to know how to handle death. We are made for eternity. For those of us in Christ, when we lose a member of the body, we can't help but long for heaven.

In the midst of losing Dan's dad, my dad had a major stroke. His personality changes and lack of ability to communicate leaves my heart raw. He isn't recovering quickly. Unfortunately his diabetes slows the process considerably. He is my daddy. Watching him suffer doesn't seem fair.

Faith aside, there is a real sense that I am grieving the loss of two dads. One is with Jesus in eternity. The other is still with me and the goal is to try to determine how to communicate with him in a way he understands. This is my greatest longing.

I wish I had and super spiritual insight to bring it all home. But in writing this to you after a long absence this is as honest as I can be. Right now I don't have many answers. I never set out to have a perfect blog, but I did promise myself I'd always be real. Part of that reality is that I have missed you. Your friendship transcends the screen.

I did have one very good thing happen in November. My family and I met Jon and Jenny Acuff. Even though they did not pay for our lunch we had a good time. We gave them a Stacy From Louisville gift bucket. Bucket, you ask? Why yes, a Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket filled with items made in Kentucky. Of course this included Maker's Mark Bourbon. (You can make whiskey anywhere, but true bourbon is only made in KY. You are welcome.) And who doesn't want bourbon without a Gettin' Lucky In Kentucky Shot Glass? Dan and I even signed it for them. Seems a shame I don't have a photo.

It is my hope to get reacquainted with you. Thank so much to those of you who have sent me Facebook messages of encouragement - and messages telling me to get back to the blog already. It all means so much.

Let's talk again soon,
Stacy

A Lesson On Forgiveness

2009-07-02T15:55:00.000-07:00

Toward the end of Sunday service, the Minister asked, "How many of you have forgiven your enemies?"

80% held up their hands.

The Minister then repeated his question.

All responded this time, except one small elderly lady.

"Mrs. Neely?; Are you not willing to forgive your enemies?"

"I don't have any." She replied, smiling sweetly.

"Mrs. Neely, that is very unusual. How old are you?"

"Ninety-eight." she replied.

"Oh, Mrs. Neely, would you please come down in front & tell us all how a person can live ninety-eight years & not have an enemy in the world?"

The little sweetheart of a lady tottered down the aisle, faced the congregation, and said:

"I've outlived them bitches."

King of Pop

2009-06-26T15:43:00.000-07:00

The first cassette tape I ever had was Thriller by Michael Jackson. I was less than 10 and very confused by Billie Jean, but I played it loud - from my ghetto blaster. (The term "ghetto blaster" horrified my mother. "We don't say 'ghetto' in this house," she said. "We say 'poorer part of town'." As if I wasn't already confused enough over the true gender of Boy George, now I had to say 'Poorer Part Of Town Blaster'. ) I remember walking through Penny's with my mom begging her for a knock off red leather jacket. The most I got was white socks that I could hopefully hose down with glitter hairspray and wear them with my grey parachute pants. Even then I was fashion forward.

But I was never a fan of the crotch grabbing. I do not endorse such behavior. Just so we're clear.

Today I'm saying good bye to the King of Pop. His music was a real force in my life. For that reason I'll never forget him.

Did Michael Jackson's mucic influence you? What song was your favorite?

Don't Read My Site Today

2009-06-13T08:43:00.000-07:00

If you haven't ventured to SCL today let me help you out: Prayer Requests. So far well over 40 people have listed some pretty heavy issues that need intercession. Scroll through the comments, pray for someone. If you want to you can try to contact that person and let them know you care.

Thanks so much guys!

For the Kingdom,
Stacy

Chikety China & Morgan Freeman

2009-06-09T14:35:00.000-07:00

I know it's kind of multiple personalityish of me to throw random clips on my blog without much explanation. What can I say? Sometimes you gotta go with your gut. In this case I gots a hankerin' for some chikety China the Chinese chicken. Apparently I'm not the only one. Morgan Freeman, who is the jam, has a voice that rocks my casaba. Second only to James Earl Jones, I'd watch PBS if he'd explain it to me. But it gets better. What do you think of this:

Now let's compare it to the original. But, first, I must say I could boogaloo my sweet tuckas right into eternity dancing to this song. Not that Christians are supposed to dance, or like music that sounds like it's sung in a nervous fit of Lithium withdrawl. I guess we all have an Achilles Heel and this is mine. Do I apologize for planting it squarely in your head and annoying the crap out of you while you're trying to concentrate on your work? No, not at all. (In the video I'm the chick with the blonde hair.)

What song get stuck in your head? What's your favorite song ever? (Besides pipe organ hymns, of course.)

Joke of the Day

2009-06-08T09:15:00.000-07:00

Two old men are sitting on a bench in a city park. They're bored.

One says to the other, "What should we do today?"

The other replies, "How much money do you have?"

They both rummage through their pockets and come up with $4 and some change.

The first one says, "We can't do much with $4. Maybe we should just go home."

The other, excited, replies, "No! Let's go buy a box of tampons!"

"Tampons! What are we going to do with tampons?"

"Haven't you seen those TV commercials? With tampons we can run, and hike and swim, even go dancing. We need some tampons!"

Your turn. Leave your joke in the comments section.

My Ricki Lake Show Prank

2009-06-01T10:26:00.000-07:00

My junior year of college I called the Ricki Lake Show. They were looking for show ideas and people willing to guest star. The recorded prompt instructed me to leave a my name, contact info, and a general message. Game on.

In my best white trash voice I said, "Ricki! I need your help up in here. My husband wears boxers that are full of tiger stripes. His pajamas used to be his dad's and he died 13 years ago. Ain't that freaky? His briefs got holes and stains, too. WOOH! And the gas! I NEED YOU RICKI! Please give my husband a bedroom makeover!!" Then I left my mom's name and phone number, being sure to ask Ricki to call me back ASAP.

Several days later I got a call in my dorm room. It was my mom. The conversation went something like this.

Mom: (all business) Stacy Ann! What did you do?

Me: Hi Mom! What's going on? (innocently, of course)

Mom: Did you call the Ricki Lake Show?

Me: The Ricki Lake Show? That show is such trash, Mom. You should just stick to Oprah.

Mom: This is NOT funny. A producer from the Ricki Lake Show just called me, asking about your father's underwear habits.

Me: Really? Did you tell the truth? (at this point I'm barely able to hold it together)

Mom: Do NOT call strange TV shows and give them our phone number. I have no desire to go on national TV and have your father get some sexy makeover.

I don't remember how the conversation ended. I think I had to promise not to ever do it again. I kept that promise, too. I never called Ricki Lake again. But Jenny Jones, well, that's another story.

To this day all I have to say to my sister is "Ricki" and we both bend over laughing like it just happened. But we only try to do that when it's a holiday because some stories are too good to not include the entire family, don't you think?

Surely you've made your share of prank calls. Tell me about your best ones. How old were you? Who was the victim? Details, people. I need details.

A Public Service Announcement From SFL

2009-05-28T05:53:00.000-07:00

There are many government organizations that support this campaign. Have those you love tested before it's too late.

What will YOU do to prevent cooties?

He Was Injured Bad

2009-05-27T02:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday's post can be summed up with this sentence: Once they find it, it's their favorite thing. We are of course talking about wee wees. I would use the proper medical term but I'm not mature enough to type it without giggling. Fortunately, Susan O. knows someone who isn't afraid to come out and say it. Here he is...

On another somewhat related topic my daughter (7) asked me this: "If you have a bathing suit with two pieces it can be immodest. But what if you forgot to put the top on? Would that just be a 50/50 sin, because, you know, you just forgot? Or is God gonna be mad?"

What do you think? Keeping theology and doctrine in mind please let me know how you would answer her question.

"It's my favorite thing."

2009-05-26T08:07:00.000-07:00

This is Sawyer at 3. He's pouting. You would be too if you had me for a mom.

One day, when he was 3, we had taken his sister to Kindergarten and he was unusually quiet. Sawyer is never quiet. He was actually kind of sad and on the verge of tears.

"What's wrong, Buddy?" I asked.

With complete sincerity he asked, "When I get big will my wee-wee fall off like Hailey's did?"

You know it took everything I had in me not to fall over laughing.

"No," I said. "Your wee-wee will never fall off. You will have it forever."

Obvious relief filled his face as he said, "That's good cause I love my wee-wee. It's my favorite thing."

"Yes, Honey. I know." And he gave me a big hug of relief.

So let's talk kids. What's the funniest thing you ever heard a child say?

Take THAT Diane Sawyer!

2009-05-25T10:28:00.000-07:00

Contest Winners!!!

2009-05-19T19:10:00.001-07:00

Are you gonna eat that?

Congratulations Christy, May 10 @ 11:01 P.M. Send me a mailing address and you bounty is in the mail.

Our random winner is: Chris, May 11 @ 5:33 A.M. Wear the bikini top with pride. Or don't. In either case, send me your address.

stacyasmall@att.net

Facebook: stacy a small

Twitter: @stacyasmallSFL

Thanks to everyone who played along. Putting together the prize packs for you all is a highlight for me. I consider myself privileged to have such great readers who share this site with me. I love having fun with you!

Contest Prize Pack

2009-05-18T13:47:00.000-07:00

I've been known to pack lots of laughs into SFL giveaways. But never before have I packed so much love into one. Without further ado I give you...

The Random Prize Pack of Dumb!!!

Party Bikini Top - Isn't there a little hula curious in everybody? Used to be you had to wear a coconut bra and grass skirt to be legit. Luckily the rules have relaxed a little. (Which is a relief. The husk on those things causes serious fiber chaffing, or so I've been told.) So here's a party bikini top just for you. Notice I specifically did not choose a pink bikini top, you know, just in case a guy won.

Generic Frog Peep Candy - Green and yellow in color, never before has a candy company successfully marketed a sugar-rolled loogie. Three hocks per box.

A left over Kentucky Derby cookie. It has icing. Let's move on.

Cast Awana, The Movie - The less heard of spin-off of Cast Away, both staring Tom Hanks. Speaking of Tom Hanks, what if Forrest Gump wandered into the Cast Awana movie? Imagine Forrest Gump in his Sparks vest, "I many not be a smart man Jenny but I know what my verse is." Precious.

Left Behind II Tribulation Force - Starring Kirk Cameron. Here's what the box says, "Left Behind will have you jumping out of your seat and shouting at the movie screen, as you feel compelled to join the Tribulation Force." Join them? What?? Oh, wait. I get it. Join them to make a better movie. Plus, I've added Mr. Miyagi commentary: "You no kick your way into heaven. This movie very sucky-son."

The Redneck Spoons Playing Kit - Because what else are you supposed to do dressed in your bikini top, eating snot candy, and staring at your VHS box? It comes with spoons, which is spectacular. I took it out of the box and tried to play. I knew I'd be extra super good at it when the first instruction was "sit". If you could manage to be barefoot and pregnant while playing spoons, all the better.

Both winners announced Wednesday.

Superiority Is Within Your Reach

2009-05-14T13:32:00.000-07:00

LOOK! HERE I AM COMBINING CAPS LOCK WITH TOO MANY EXCLAMATION POINTS AND A BOLD FONT!!!! TO THINK I WOKE UP THIS MORNING FEELING 17% LESS LUDICROUS THAN NORMAL!!! IT WASN'T PMS AT ALL!!!!

IT WAS LACK OF CAPS LOCK!!!!!!!!

Halloween Candy Tasting

2009-05-13T05:54:00.000-07:00

Like I've said before, don't eat while watching this clip. Also, pee before watching or you're gonna mess yourself and we wouldn't want that. Enjoy!

Caption My Photo Contest

2009-05-10T18:43:00.000-07:00

One woman's carnage is another woman's inspiration. At least that's what I keep telling myself. So here you have it, straight from my asphalt to your computer screen: The SFL Photo Caption Contest. (Yes, I took this picture myself.)

There are 2 ways to win. First, come up with the most creative caption for this photo. Or, leave your name and a lame excuse as to why you can't bring it to captionville. There will be one winning caption, and one randomly selected SFL reader. I've never done a contest this way but I think it will be fun.

You have until Thursday to enter the contest. Prizes will be posted later this week.

Game on!!

My Favorite Story About My Mom

2009-05-08T21:17:00.000-07:00

When you see a title "My Favorite Story About My Mom" there are certain expectations. Images of hugging and flowers come to mind. Perhaps the smell of your favorite home-cooked meal, or knowing that mom will always be there for you. Yes, these are tender memories. Yet, they have nothing to do with my favorite, now iconic, story about my mom.

Growing up we lived on a wooded, 1 acre lot. We had a creek that ran down one side of the yard. It was lovely, except when there were thunderstorms. Wind and rain scattered branches and limbs throughout the property. On the off chance we skipped removing the debris from the lawn, after a few storms the yard was a real mess.

One summer, when I was in junior high, we had a series of storms that left an unusually large amount of branches on our lot. My mom had this great idea that we could outside and throw the sticks in the dry creek bed. When Dad got home he could burn them. So out we went.

The pile we amassed was probably 3 feet high and 5 feet across. I remember looking at it thinking it was going to make one heck of a fire. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mom take a packet of matches out of her pocket. I distinctly remember thinking, "Huh. This isn't how Dad burns stuff." But I was half way across the yard and figured this was more interesting that going inside, so I was going to hang out and watch.

She lit a match and threw it on the pile.

Nothing.

So she lit another match.

Nothing. Again.

I don't know how many matches she threw on the pile but she made several more attempts, all with the same result. That's when she turned around, I assumed, to go back into the house. But that's not what she did. No, not at all.

She returned to the pile of sticks - from the garage - carrying...(wait for it)...

A. Can. Of. Gasoline.

She took the gas and randomly sprinkled a little on the pile to help start the fire. She threw in a match.

Nothing.

By this time she was hot, frustrated, and determined. So she took the FULL can of gasoline and dumped it all over that pile of sticks. And friends, we had a riding lawn mower, so it was a big can of gasoline. ALL. OVER. THOSE. STICKS.

She lit a match.

She threw it in.

At first, nothing. Then:

BAM!!!!!

That thing blew up like a Zamboni on the 4th of July. My jaw dropped. I shifted my glance to my mom.

I swear, she easily flew 3 feet into the air, just like on a cartoon. Then, she dropped to the ground, rolled several times and lay motionless well away from the blazing fire.

I ran like a bat out of hell over to my mom. "MOM! Are you OK?! MOM!"

"Yes. I'm...fine...yes." Prostrate on the ground, face in the grass, lifting one arm in the air as if to say, "There's nothing to see here folks."

When I knew she was okay - and only when I knew she was okay - I fell to the ground laughing like I have never laughed in my entire life. We're talking full on, body laughing, no sound coming out because I was literally cracking up over what she did. I was crying I was laughing so hard.

My mom sits up, while wiping dirt off her face, says, "I guess that was too much gas."

At this point, the neighbors are involved, calling 911, running over with garden hoses. It was spectacular.

Today, 21 years later, the story lives on. Night after night my son, as I put him to bed, says, "Tell me that story about Grandma Linda and how she blew up."

Happy Mother's Day everybody. Hope it's a blast!

(Contest on Monday!!)

DC Talk - Say The Words Now

2009-05-08T05:46:00.000-07:00

Not the best video but one of the best songs by DC Talk. Turn up your speakers.

Have a great Mother's Day and tell her I can't wait to meet her. She will be so thrilled you probably won't need a card or gift. Trust me, I know these things.

Today's question: What is the oddest gift you ever made for your mom when you were a kid? Or, what is the oddest thing your kids have ever given you? I'll go first but I'm going to share my favorite memory of my mom. I remember the last time she rocked me when I was upset. I was 9 and I felt weird asking but she made it seem like the most natural thing ever. When I was pregnant with Hailey I went out and purchased a wooded rocker nearly identical to the one my mom had because of that memory.

P.S. Contest on Monday.

Happy Birthday Kid

2009-05-07T09:01:00.000-07:00

The Stacy From Louisville Get-Off-Your-Duff-And-Find-Your-True-Calling-Guide 2009

2009-05-06T13:33:00.000-07:00

Have you ever taken a spiritual gifts inventory only to get half way through and think, "Why so many freakishly ridiculous questions?" Or, do you sometimes wander out of doors, look down at your hip pack so stylishly festooned around your waist and say, "O, Mr. Fanny, how do you think we could best serve at church?"

Well wonder no more, my friends.

Here at Stacy From Louisville I believe everyone should serve in their church or community. That's why I'm here to administer the official Get-Off-Your-Duff-And-Find-Your-True-Calling-Guide 2009

It's very simple. To successfully find your prime area of service all you need to know are your initials. Below you will find 3 lists, one for each initial of your first, middle and last name. (If you do not know your initials please use WTC, for What The Crap is wrong with you.) Put the phrases together and you'll find out the best use of your talents.

For example, my initials are SAS. That would make me a: "Giddy Collate Wearing Failing Seminary Student". WOW! That sounds like it's right up my alley. Good thing I live in the same town as a major seminary. Can't wait to enroll, flunk out, and look stylish (in an 80s Brownie Troupe Leader kind of way) doing it.

So now it's your turn. In the comments section please be sure to share your new calling. We'll all be edified I'm sure.

Please send this to anyone in need. Oh the lives we'll change, dear readers. Churches all over the world will never be the same.

First Letter of Your First Name

A - Darling

B- Crazy

C - Chortling

D - Dainty

E - Leotarded

F - Obtuse

G - Farty

H - Obscure

I - Glittery

J - Twitchy

K - Annoying

L - Confused

M - Craptastic

N - Maladjusted

O - Obsessive

P - Enchanted

Q - Rashy (I really hope you don't have "Q" in your name)

R - Fandangaled

S - Giddy

T - Sweaty

U - Itchy

V - Irregular

W - Squinty

X - Sunshiny

Y - Stagnant

Z - Dogmatic

First Letter of Your Middle Name

A - Coulatte Wearing

B - Paint Sniffing

C - Casserole Burning

D - Pork Rind Sucking

E - Billy Mays Loving

F - Tattooed

G - Belly Dancing

H - Tight Fisted

I - Jazzercising

J - Runny Nosed

K - Asphalt Eating

L - Gnome Whittling

M - Pansy Throwing

N - Weepy Eyed

O - Bunion Scratching

P - Accident Prone

Q - Garden Weasel Toting

R - Hymnal Sniffing

S - Cowbell Demanding

T - Hula Curious

U - Super Hot

V - Bunny Suited

W - Slightly Confused

X - Paste Eating

Y - Swine Flu Masked

Z - Rim Spinning

First Letter of Your Last Name

A - Church Secretary

B - AWANAS volunteer

C - Live Christmas Tree Singer

D - Pulpit Hog

E - Broom Twirling Janitor

F - Missionary

G - Sunday School Teacher

H - Clown Troupe Member

I - Interpretive Dancer (with ribbons)

J - Worship Band Drummer

K - Bible College Graduate

L - Hymn Yodeler

M - Organist

N - First Time Visitor

O - Bi-Polar Member of The Counseling Staff

P - Paranoid Usher

Q - Overemotional Worship Leader

R - Church Planter

S - Failing Seminary Student

T - Bible Banger

U - Pastor's Wife

V - Van Driver

W - Left Behind Author

X - Women's Retreat Planner

Y - Sound Board Dude

Z - Bible Study Drop Out

An Update & A Question

2009-05-03T20:38:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I hope to get back to posting as usual but for now I have a brief update.

I saw my grandmother this weekend in the hospital. She's very weak and had to have help to get from the recliner to her bed, only inches away. (Seeing her be lifted into bed was heart wrenching.) She has an upper GI tomorrow to determine why her esophagus isn't working. I cannot fathom putting her under for a procedure, but what do I know? (Don't answer that.)

After we all hugged, we were out the door of her room, leaving to go home and she asked Hailey to turn around. "Hailey, you know I love you, right?" Hailey smiled and waved, "I love you too GG." My grandma is amazing that in spite of her condition, she made a point to connect with Hailey knowing it may be the last time. What a gift.

On a personal note I'm having a harder time with this than I thought. Not that I had any idea how this would affect me. It hits me at weird times. For now my focus is to get through tomorrow (Monday) without being in a nasty mood.

(Me? Nasty? I'm sure you're shocked...)

For now, I have a question for you. How do we manage pain as believers? The pain of loss or grief (which may or may not have anything to do with death) can defeat the strongest of us. What was your grief situation? How did you deal with it? What doesn't work? What does?

God Showed Up

2009-04-30T20:36:00.000-07:00

Background info: The radio in my car is predictably broken. Has been for 6 months or so. We are replacing the car very soon we haven't bothered to get it fixed. Occasionally, for whatever reason, the wires connect long enough to play part of a song, but those instances are few and far between.

Today I explained to Sawyer, my 5 year old, that his great grandmother is very, very sick. In as few words as possible I tried to prepare him - if that can be done - for the loss he will face. We were in my car and he was quiet, which was fine with me because I haven't had many words today. Out of his silence a question:

"Mommy, are we going to Indianapolis because GG is going to die?" he asked.

Deep breath.

"No, we're going to see GG because we love her," I said. Tears welled in my eyes, blurring the road in front of me. "But one day soon she will go to be with Jesus. She will be in heaven and she will not be sick any more, not ever. But to get to heaven she will die. I will be very, very sad and I will miss her very much, but I would rather her be with Jesus than here, in pain."

"Will she die because she is old?" he asked.

Tears poured down my cheeks. "No, she will die because God is ready for her to be with Him. That's why we believe in Jesus. This life is not special or important if we don't have Jesus. GG loves Jesus right now and because He loves her, too, He wants to bring her to be with Him forever." The words came easily, but in those few moments I did the whole "white-knuckled, keep the car on the road death grip on the steering wheel" thing, hoping he didn't know I was upset.

I don't have a problem with him seeing me cry. Yet I didn't want my grief to control the situation. It wasn't about sugarcoating pain, it was about simple, direct hope that's available to even him at 5 years old. That is what I wanted him to take away from our talk.

"Sawyer, does that make sense to you?"

Peacefully he said, "Yeah, I think so."

In that moment, just that suddenly, the radio in my car came on. The words and melody rang clear, "How great is our God. Sing with me how great is our God. All will see how great, how great is our God. You're the Name above all name. Your are worthy of all praise. My heart will sing how great is our God..." and do it went.

Just like that, in my crappy, run down car with a radio that seldom works, while talking faith and salvation to my son, God showed up. He showed up big and strong. He showed up and affirmed everything I believe. He affirmed the faith that was handed down to me through my grandma's love for Him. That love lives in me and is being passed on to my son. One life to the next, generation to generation, God showed up.

Of course I'm sad right now, achingly so. But, what rises to the surface is my faith. Circumstance and pain ebb and flow, but He never does.

If we have nothing else, my friends, we have a God who lived for us, died for us, rose again for us....and still takes the time to show up.

I pray He shows up big and strong and undeniable for you today. Thanks for reading.

A Personal Note

2009-04-30T05:50:00.000-07:00

My grandmother's health is deteriorating. He pain is constant. She weighs less than 100 pounds. Her esophagus is shutting down. I could elaborate but the point is she's dying. Of course we don't know how long she has but for now she is in misery. We are heading to Indy to be with family. My grief is big right now. I'm at a loss for words. I can't help but think of my kids and how they will handle this loss. They loves their GG very much. They knows she is very sick and will be with Jesus soon, but still the idea of having to walk them through their grief breaks my heart - it's a reality of life I want to protect them from. And my mom - she isn't a believer and has no hope without Christ. This is perhaps the most painful element. Everyone else in our family has placed their faith in Christ except for my mom, and this is her mother that is dying.

I would appreciate any prayers.

I will update you as I can.

Much love in Christ,
Stacy

Deluxe Hugs $2

2009-04-27T18:02:00.000-07:00

When I was in high school I was a part of a clown ministry. (Cue mocking, laughing and pointing, etc.) My clown name was Sassafrass and grease paint was my spiritual gift. But you know how some people have a big heart but absolutely no clue what they're doing? (But enough about my blog...) We had someone like that in our clown troupe (which is kind of like a gang but with far less class). She had this really annoying, high pitched voice, her make-up bordered on horror flicktastic, and she carried a sign that said, "Kisses: $5.00" (Can I be the first to say I don't think it's a good idea to sell physical contact of any kind in the projects of the inner city?) Nevertheless, she followed small children and adults around trying to pawn off her clown love. Ironically she didn't have any takers. So the next day she marked them down to $4, which is a screamin' deal, but was denied. Every day it went like this: selling intimacy at bargain basement close out prices, chasing down potential customers, being loud and terrifying children. Ahhhh, missions. By the end of the week she carried a sign that said, "God's kisses are free!!", which is good to know.

When I saw this clip I had to share my clown tonsil-hockey tail. But the story pales in comparison to what you are about to watch. Before watching, take a trip to the bathroom, spit out your food, and park your kiester. Turn up your speakers and let the insanity begin.

Just Cause I Love Ya...

2009-04-23T17:43:00.000-07:00

The perfect gift for that eccentric church secretary who's so hard to shop for. Order yours here.

Now get on out there and enjoy your weekend!

Facebook Friends

2009-04-23T07:44:00.000-07:00

I always follow proper Facebook etiquette. Find me as Stacy A. Small and let's be friends today!

Celebrate Earth Day!

2009-04-22T06:35:00.000-07:00

Today I encourage you to celebrate Earth Day. In case you're having trouble coming up with ideas you can borrow one of mine. Be sure to leave your suggestions in the comments section.

1. Flush the toilet every 5 minutes.
2. Dispense 70 gallons of gasoline into 2 liter bottles, making sure to top them off until gas sprays out.
3. Throw coal at endangered birds.
4. Make out with a logger.
5. Ask total strangers, "Did you just fart? Your methane emission offends me."
6. Soak canvas bags in oil. Set them on fire while you picket Whole Foods.
7. At Starbucks order a "Styrofoam Latte" with a shot of natural gas.
8. Uproot trees.
9. Open all the windows to your home and set the thermostat to 86 degrees.
10. Take the kids to McDonald's drive through. Throw wrappers out the car windows as you travel to your destination.
11. Detach your muffler.
12. Burn tires instead of candles.
13. Fill recycling bins with glitter.
14. Set washing machine to "extra large load" then do laundry one piece of clothing at a time. Dry them the same way.
15. Give up old rags and use disposable diapers to clean up household messes.
16. Print this post 700 times.
17. Fill plastic grocery bags with car emissions. Hand them out at the park as balloons.
18. Drink 6 packs of soda at the beach. Clean up by throwing plastic connector rings and empty cans off the pier.
19. Help control the pet population. Have your panda spayed or neutered.
20. Let your Hummer idle in the carpool lane.

April 15 (or, My Tax Guy Is Hotter Than Yours)

2009-04-15T10:16:00.000-07:00

There he stood by the door. Light rain was falling, the haloed glow from the porch lamp radiating around his evocatively stuffed man bag. He put his coat on, pulled his keys from his pocket and said, "Please excuse me while I return to the office and make out with my calculator." With that, he was gone, leaving a trail of W2s behind him.

Over the years I've had the fantasy of being being chided by the cruel but mysterious tax man. There he stands, armed with an abacus and mechanical pencil. Ring around the collar, tight leisure pants, marinara stains above his suggestive pocket protector - and me, so naughty and disobedient for not submitting my medical receipts. Pheromones and audit hang heavy in the air. Somebody stop me before I claim a false deduction.

I'm all aflush just thinking about it.

What? You don't think your accountant is hot? Mine is. But he's also my husband. That's right, Dan Small, C.P.A., my very own slice of 10-40 heaven.

But today is the last day he'll be pimping out loop holes to save mankind from Uncle Sam. Today is April 15.

To be clear my husband does not get to stand on a street corner dressed as the statue of liberty and wave down traffic to solicit business. Instead, he works for himself, relying on word of mouth to generate income.

In the last two days he had to tell several clients they owed money to the IRS. One owed $12,500, the other $76,000, which would be fine with me except we don't get a cut on either one. Dang. (If you are either of these clients my most abject apologies and a reminder that Stacy From Louisville links are always free. It's the least I can do.)

Tonight he's taking me out to dinner. (I have a Liberty Tax Service Statue of Liberty hat just for the occasion. Yes, I'm wearing it.) Then, tomorrow, he'll celebrate even further by playing golf at a crappy course (it belongs to a client but it's not a kick back I swear). Then he'll treat himself to a Super Cuts special and just for giggles, properly fold a map and sort my kitchen utensils according to mass. Wheeeee!

You can take the accountant out of the office but you can't take the accountant out of the man.

If you'd like to hear more of his perspective on tax season please click here. Back in January he hijacked my blog and wrote a post. I had no idea he'd done it until my sister called me and asked if I'd checked my blog lately. Quite hysterical even though it is accountant humor. It's the most romantic thing he's done in years.

So, I'd like to dedicate this post to Dan Small, C.P.A. At this very moment I'm giddy with tax season lunacy, honey. You can audit me any time you want.

What's your tax season story? Do you owe this year? Or are you getting money back? We owe $900 to the state of Kentucky... Like my blog doesn't already generate enough notoriety to call it even...

Easter is Everything

2009-04-11T06:27:00.001-07:00

I have a reason to hope that has nothing to do with anything I could ever do or say. The very sin that bores a hole in my soul is soothed and healed by the blood and resurrection of Jesus Christ, Son of God. Many times we rightly say, "It's not about me" but when it comes to His death and resurrection it is about me - and you. He loves you and me to death and back.

On Easter our hope is confirmed. Our fellowship in Him is renewed.

The celebration of heaven extends to mortality a little more because we're more in touch with the reason for the faith we have. Easter is everything.

That we would infuse our fellowship with that same electric joy of the resurrection every day.

I serve a risen Savior He's in the world today
I know that He is living whatever men may say
I see His hand of mercy I hear His voice of cheer
And just the time I need Him He's always near

He lives! He lives!
Christ Jesus lives today!
He walks with me and talks with me
Along life's narrow way
He lives! He lives!
Salvation to impart
You ask me how I know He lives
He lives within my heart

Rejoice, rejoice O Christian lift up your voice and sing
Eternal hallelujahs to Jesus Christ the King!
The hope of all who seek Him,
The help of all who find
None other is so loving so good and kind...

Meet Mr. Peep Poop

2009-04-10T18:19:00.000-07:00

As far as pranks and general disgustingness go Easter is pretty tame. However, it is my belief that even the sweetest of holidays can tricked out in ewww. For this simple prank you will only need the following:

(you will also need wax paper and a microwave)

What? What's that you say? How can marshmallowy goodness and miniature cream eggs buy a ticket to Ickville?

Take your Cadburry fondant delectable, place in on the wax paper and microwave it on high for about 7 seconds, until it just begins to melt.

I could explain the rest, but why don't I just show you?

Meet Mr. Peep Poop

It seems our sugary friend has had an accident, and right on my computer desk, too. Poor little chickadee had to go pee-pee, and seeing that he has no wings or legs, he had to make do (or doo doo?).

Mr. Peep Poop puts the panache back in Passover, the Goofy in Good Friday, the Edible in Easter. No matter the date, he puts the "F" in family and fecal matter. Just sit one of these little guys on a guest's chair and when they pull it out - surprise! Or what if he flew inside the mailbox by mistake? Or what if he and 25 of his friends found his way to your neighbor's car windshield? Or just one little guy got left behind...(wait for it)...on your mother-in-law's toilet seat? Silly birdy, he almost made it.

Be sure to let me know how it works for you. Send me a JPG and I'll post it right here. Or do you have your own gross candy gag? Please share. I'm all about sharing.

I'm In Love And I Don't Care Who Knows It

2009-04-09T15:00:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure I'm related to these guys in some way. They are fantastical. Please use the bathroom or spit your food out before viewing. I wouldn't want you to mess yourself.

Which one is your favorite?

ShamWOW! Song

2009-04-08T08:09:00.000-07:00

(Just to accomodate today's token of spectacular I changed my blogger template. Tell me, who else loves you like I do??)

If Billy Mays sold poop in a bag I'd probably buy it. Not that I need more poop in a bag, it's just that I can't resist a man who thinks every sentence is worth a shout and an exclamation point!!! But then I met Vince from ShamWOW. Within moments I kicked Billy's hairy faced, raspy holler to the curb.

Something spectacular happens at 2:19 so make sure to catch it. You know the Germans always make good stuff. SIGN. ME. UP.

Ways To Make People Think You're Crazy

2009-04-06T17:46:00.000-07:00

1. In the middle of a conversation, throw up your hands and yell, "STOP! Hammer Time!" Then do the typewriter.

2. Suck on yellow and green gummy bears until they're good and slimy. Make hacking noises in an elevator, then spit them into your hand. Show them to the person next to you and ask for a hanky.

3. Trade out grape juice for hard liquor at communion.

4. Hook up the worship leader's mic to a clapper.

5. Before meeting anyone new pop an alka-seltzer tablet into your mouth. Carry on normal conversation.

6. Forward spam as an attachment with a note saying, "This is awesome."

7. Regularly discuss your bowel habits.

8. Whenever anyone asks you what time it is, subtract 15 minutes from the true time.

9. Ask your neighbors if they'd be interested in becoming blood brothers.

10. Play tag in Wal-Mart. Fitting room lady is home base.

11. Put invisible fence collars on toddlers in the church nursery.

12. In the drive thru make sure to indicate that your order is "to go".

13. When people share prayer requests say, "Your life is a train wreck."

14. Don't plant flowers. Put empty soda cans on sticks and cluster them around your yard. Water them while neighbors do yard work.

15. Tell kids that Disney World burned down and the ice cream truck only plays music when they're out of ice cream.

16. Sing "Wake Me Up Before You G0-Go" when using public restrooms.

17. Attach large signs to drinking fountains that declare, "FREE WATER TODAY!!!"

18. Sign up to be an usher at church then stand at the end of every pew and ask, "May I see every one's ticket please?"

What would you add to the list? Is there anything I've forgotten? Please share.

Caption This Pic

2009-04-03T11:49:00.000-07:00

What Dat Smell?

A love song by George Michael

Leather jacket? Check

Cross earring? Check

Retro Miami Vice beard? Check

Nip coverage for delicate sensibilities? Check.

Deodorant? Dang. Seriously.

2009-04-01T17:26:00.000-07:00

My father in law just said I am full of crap. Can you imagine?

2009-04-01T09:00:00.000-07:00

Katdish is pregnant! Congratulations girl!

OUCH!

2009-03-30T16:48:00.000-07:00

The day after Dan and I got married we had a party for our out of town guests. (We got married in AZ and had many guests from IN, FL and KY.) Looking back I think the reception would have sufficed.

Not wanting to get the boom-chicka-bow-wow look from everyone in the room we made sure we were the first to arrive. As it turns out it wouldn't have mattered what time we showed up. The wedding party, our dearest friends, made it a point to make eye contact with Dan or I and mutter, "Uh-huh" while raising eyebrows and lifting glasses to toast us. But my mother took the cake. In a private moment she put her hand on my back and delicately whispered, "Is there anything you want to ask you mother?" So I said, "No. But Dan's dying to talk to you."

OUCH! So there you have it.

So please, do dish. I really can't wait for the comments on this one. Especially from Nelson's Mama.

Stick It! (Up your nose, that is.)

2009-03-27T07:40:00.000-07:00

Like I said yesterday, I've got a sinus infection. I've been hacking and sneezing myself into oblivion. I refusing to cave to antibiotics because I prefer the more natural, tree hug, granola approach. Though I haven't tried shoving actual granola clusters into my nasal cavity I did decide to shove this up there to relieve the sinus pressure:
Meet Mr. SinuCleanse Squeeze. He's the cousin of the NetiPot. (To be clear, NetiPot is not real pot, so if you've been misunderstood and are thinking of piling on the eyeliner and having an emo moment this would not be the pot you're after.) The basic premise is to force saline into the sinus cavity thereby causing snot and grey matter to drain via your nose and relieve sinus pressure. The SinuCleanse Squeeze allows for a slightly forceful stream of saline, where as the NetiPot is more like taking a tea kettle and pouring it in. Yum, I know.

The picture shows the general idea. However, no where in the product description does it deny that after using this product I wouldn't end up looking like this guy. So though this is a 100% natural product, so is testosterone, a 5 o'clock shadow, and enlarged knuckles. (P.S. Mr. Roper from Threes Company Called. He wants his shirt back.) And is it just me or does it look like our friend here is about to take a swig out of the snot pot?

The bottle is a clear plastic sprayer. Add lukewarm water and a saline packet, lean over the sink and spray directly into the nasal cavity. Luckily there is an anti-backwash valve. (I'll leave you to insert a gross snot joke here.)

I used the product as recommended. Here are the random thoughts that passed through my mind:

This is like an enema for your brain.
When I'm done here I'll bet I could mix up a vinaigrette in the bottle and put it on tonight's salad.
I should have just used a pressure washer or Shop Vac.
Gross. Look at what's coming out my nose!
There's the remote!
My brain hurts.
If I filled this bottle with Clorox then sprayed it up my schnoz, would it kill the virus or just eliminate that hard to clean ring-around-the-septum?
It's good thing this idea is has a pending patten cause I think Summer's Eve stole their idea.

It's been about an hour since I SinuCleansed. I'm not stuffed up anymore, but my head still hurts, I'm coughing, and I'm no less obnoxious than before irrigating my frontal lobe. But at least I shared it with you cause we're tight like that.

So what about you? What have you been sticking up your nose today?

Stacy from Snotville

2009-03-25T18:05:00.000-07:00

Every person in my house has a sinus infection. That's 8 nostrils plugged or running like a faucet. My son was the first to get sick. He decided to let me in on it by wiping his nose on 3 couch cushions. Disgusting? Yes. So when you come over to my house you don't have to park your rear on my sectional. I don't blame you at all. You can sit on the carpet...

Once, when my daughter had the spew flu and decided to decorate the carpet, I thought I'd die. You know what I mean: chunckage + wool = I'd rather sell the house than clean it up. I begged a friend to let me borrow her steam rug cleaner. With a little effort the carpet was like new. Thankful for her help, I returned the cleaner. Only I forgot to change the water from the suction chamber. Interestingly, when that friend moved she forgot to tell me. I thought that was kind of sucky, but in a completely different way.

Snot. Puke. Two totally disgusting - and embarrassing - issues. It's a general theory of mine that bodily fluids should never be discussed. Unless it's funny. So I'm wondering if you have a funny snot, pee, poop, puke, story. I'll go first:

A friend of mine had a baby in November and chose to breast feed. In January she ventured to the mall between feedings, sans baby, to return something. Though it was freezing she left her coat in the car, reasoning she'd be in and out quickly. She ended up being in the store much longer than she intended. So much so, her milk came in while she was checking out, and that took longer and longer...until her shirt was soaked through. And she had no coat. She left the store but couldn't remember where she had parked. By the time she got in her car her shirt was frozen... Frozen. To. Her. Chest. (Which makes me wonder if we've got any ice cream because my throat sure hurts...)

So please, let's share some gross and embarassing stories. Like, say, when you have a big blow out sneeze and get boogers in your hair but no one tells you. (Not that this ever happened to me...) Stuff like that. And there's always fart stories, burping, puke... Or, being impaled with a 3 inch splinter in the left butt cheek while sunbathing, having a Bible college male prof wanting to remove it with pliers, but deciding to have it surgically removed, then getting notes for weeks telling said person not to worry about the splinter of wood in other people's eye until taking care of the shard of wood in your own butt, then being called Shard Butt for months. You know, embarrassing stuff.

So dish already!

Free Snowcones!!

2009-03-23T07:56:00.000-07:00

Why didn't I think of this first?

School Me On Praise

2009-03-18T07:51:00.001-07:00

Most of the time I write a post about something I'm learning and ask for your feedback. Today it's the other way around.

I'm making a dedicated effort to include praising God into my everyday life. I don't want it to be contrived, I want it to be a natural part of who I am. Maybe the reason I haven't acknowledged this deficit in my life until now is because I've been saving my praise for myself? You can't answer that, but if I'm being honest it's probably true. Dying to myself is the first part, looking for ways to exalt Him is the second. That's where you come in.

So how do you do it? How do you make praising God part of your routine? What does that look like for you? What advice, scripture, or discipline would you recommend?

I've got a willing heart, a need for God, and a way to talk to you.

I'll take all the feedback I can get. So school me...

Prank War

2009-03-17T03:00:00.001-07:00

I would never do this to you. Ok, that's not true. But if I did you wouldn't hate me, right? Cause I'd still love you. Enjoy!

(before you play this be forwarned that someone in the background drops the f-bomb at the 16 second mark)

Never Let Go

2009-03-16T09:00:00.000-07:00

Turn it up. Or at least tune in.

A friend of mine lost her mother suddenly. In the midst of hospital chaos she told me she could feel God whispering Scripture over her and she had peace. He set the world in motion yet still cares enough to speak His Word over us. That's enough to leave me rightfully speechless. Thank you Jesus. (A., He's with you. I love you, girl.)

Don't miss today's post Created for Community.

Created For Community

2009-03-16T03:00:00.000-07:00

(Come back for a video post later today.)

When I wrote My Battle With Chronic Pain I had no idea what kind of response I'd get. Today, 2+ weeks after that post, the comments are still coming in. Your candor and openness in your struggle were unexpected, but welcomed. Your comments painted a picture of real hurt. I was touched by stories of infertility, depression, isolation, and being misunderstood. My first reaction was to reach out to each one of you, and stand by you in you circumstance. Unfortunately, the reality of you being there and me being here makes that impossible.

Though we're strangers, I love you and care deeply about what happens to you. When you share your pain I don't take that lightly. I know what pain is, I know depression, I know frustration; we are connected in these ways. (But I also know joy and pray we're connected in this way, too.)

So I started to pray for you (and continue to do so). And God started working in me.

Then, clearly, it came down to one small word: community.

God made us for relationships. I need community and so do you. While blogging and leaving comments is great it falls short of true community. It's easy to visit a blog, identify with a topic, write a comment that connects you with it, but still leave unfulfilled. I know this because it has happened to me. I may leave a zinger of a sass mouth comment of Stuff Christians Like. I laugh, go back to the comments later, see what others have to say. There's nothing wrong with any of that, as long as it's not an idol. But sometimes, when a topic hits a nerve, regardless of whether or not I comment, I draw back from the computer wondering, "What now?" You see, I'm still sitting alone behind the same computer I was sitting behind 10 minutes ago. Yet now I have questions and I feel alone in them.

Maybe this sounds familiar to you. Maybe not, and I'm glad for you. Either way, keep reading.

When a blog touches on an issue, like your very personal battle with pain, I think you should chime into the discussion. Pour your heart out, whether it's to agree or disagree. But, please, as the author of this blog, I'm asking you not to stop there.

What I'm saying is don't let this blog, or any other, mask your need to be in real, open, and vulnerable connections to your church family. Share your pain with the people around you daily.

You may be thinking what I thought for years: No one at my church cares or wants to understand. Are you sure? In your entire congregation there isn't a person who cares? If that's the case it's time to find a new church. Before you say goodbye, ask yourself this: Is it possible you've looked for friendship and understanding in the wrong places within your church? Not all groups will work for everyone. If you think you can't be yourself with the group you associate with now, maybe it's time to gracefully move on in pursuit of other friendships.

This will not be comfortable at first. But once you commit to finding your place in the Body of Christ you will find freedom because you don't have to be a square peg in a round hole anymore. You get to be you, exactly as God made you. Satan is lying to you and you're believing it if you think you're all alone. (We got 41 comments in the post My Battle With Chronic Pain. If that many people commented here I guarantee your church home is full of like minded people. Struggle is universal.) You don't have to be alone, but you do have to put forth the effort to pursue relationships.

God IS ALIVE in His body. He actively ministers to us through other people. But we have to make efforts, too. No matter if we've been hurt before, ignored, wronged, etc. For the sake of Jesus in you, please, find your place in The Body.

I write these things to you not as a know it all, but as someone who is making this change right now. It has taken me nearly 7 years to do this, but better late than never. What I'm finding is that the world is opening up to me via putting myself out there. And I'm finding ways to serve back. Before I decided to get serious about my needs, there were people who knew I was in pain. But I held myself back from them because I believed the lies that said they wouldn't understand.

Now I know "they" were not the problem, my church was not the problem - I was. Well, me and my sin of isolation. That's right. For me it was sin.

So today, when several people asked how I've been feeling, I was able to tell them, "I had a good week." They were happy for me. They care. Letting God redeem my pride is replacing my heart of stone for a heart of flesh. The biggest difference: flesh is alive!

I think the same thing is waiting for you. Like I said, I love to read your comments and you are always welcomed here. Just don't let this be the only place where you get fed.

Perhaps you're already involved in strong community. Or maybe it's time for you to leave the nest. Either way, I have one pointed question for you today, my friends: What can you do this week to take a step closer to community? How will you further define your place in the Body of Christ?

Today especially, I'd really love to hear from you.

Love In The Land of Bullet Dodging

2009-03-10T03:00:00.000-07:00

I dated some real losers before I met Dan. One even broke my heart. Years later I look back at where he is now and realize I dodged a major bullet. Which reminds me of one of my favorite quotes: Tis better to have loved and lost than to spend the rest of your life with a psycho.

So let's dish. Tell me about your dating woes. And let's talk about dodging bullets. I promise your secret is safe with me.

Idolatry & The Real Jesus

2009-03-09T03:00:00.000-07:00

I'm really having a hard time with blogging not being an idol. There. I said it.

Wrapped up in comments. Overly aware of statistics. Competing with myself in a contest that's never ending.

And it hurts. It hurts to think it owns me and it hurts to own up to it. But that's sin for ya.

Some things are going to change. But there's one thing that won't. Let me talk about that first.

To me, we've grown into a community I never expected to value so much. I pray for you when I read hurt in your comments. I laugh with you when you're laughing with me. You've extended the community over to Facebook, and we've talked back and forth. Months ago we were strangers, today you are friends. You are an amazing blessing.

I seriously considered giving up Stacy From Louisville completely. I went back and forth but finally found peace with taking you along with me on this journey. It took lots of soul searching and waiting on God to come to this decision. That is why I haven't posted in over a week.

So here's the deal. Most likely, I will be posting less often, an only when I have something worth saying. As always, when I find something funny I'll share it with you. Laughing, sarcasm, chatty - that's who I am. But trying to conjure up fantastical and being worried about Stacy From Louisville Superstardom - that's over. Dead. Audios.

In its place you'll see me chronicle my journey about seeking the real Jesus.

What? The real Jesus? Read on.

I had this amazing conversation with a counselor friend at church about my blog and my faith in general. I said, "I feel like I've shut myself off from God." He said, and I think this is brilliant, "Have you shut yourself off from God or from your preconceived notions of who you think God is? If we knew the REAL God, instead of what we have him made out to be, no one would shut themselves off from Him."

That, my friends, is idolatry. I put my baggage - hurt from the past, misunderstandings, even false teachings - on God. So much so that when all that stuff piles up it blocks God from the picture and I don't even see Him anymore. Without realizing it I throw God under the bus and settle for a craptastic substitute.

Like a blog. Or over-eating. Or arguing with my spouse. Or my health. Or my discontent. Or a million other things that amount to nothing when it's all said and done.

In talking with my friend I told him about how, for a long time, I've felt disconnected from the physical community at my church. I was in a long-term Bible study that offered academia and legality but no connection. I skimmed the surface of friendships, afraid to invest too much out of fear of being hurt. I've tried to be a square peg in a round hole instead of finding other square pegs to hang with.

My friend was quick to remind me that by isolating myself from investing in the Body of Christ I was cutting off a major avenue to the love of Christ . He was right. He is alive in His body. Often I've wasted time being critical of the church instead of finding my place in it, and I'm putting an end to it. That means I stop whining, be a big girl and pursue relationships instead of waiting for them to fall in my lap. So that's what I'm off to do.

You're more than welcome to journey with me.

Hearing my children sing the chorus of this song is one of the things He used to keep convicting me. Sing along if you know the words.

In case you stop by one day and there's no new post, please check out 97seconds. Jon Acuff of Stuff Christians Like did 28 days on Proverbs 12. It's extremely well done and worth your time.

An Update

2009-03-08T21:44:00.001-07:00

Last Saturday my grandma fell and broke her pelvis in two places. Two months before this incident she fell and broke her tailbone.

I talked to her last night for 30 minutes on the phone. She cried nearly the whole time from pain and loneliness. She is either allergic or nauseated by most pain meds., so they give her what they can but it's not enough to take the pain away.

She is now on oxygen 24 hours a day. And she's weary - from pain, frustration, illness, missing my grandfather for 12 years...

She has bounced back from so much in the past several months. While bouncing back is a good thing, and obviously in God's plan for her, she's a little weaker each time. This fall in many ways is worse than the heart attack she suffered late last year. The pain is worse and prolonged.

She turns 85 on Tuesday. She loves the Lord, yet she's weary of this world. As much as I love her I'm ready to see her suffering end. But who can say what God's will is?

Thank you for your prayers and e-mails concerning this situation. My faith rests in Christ.

Much love,
Stacy

Personal Evangelism Tool

2009-02-24T03:00:00.000-08:00

If you happen to be reading this at work, in a local coffee shop, or at a public library, immediately stop what you are doing. Stand up right where you are and loudly ask everyone around you, "If you are not a Christian raise your hand." (People appreciate directness so they'll love you for taking the time to ask.) Then quickly gather all these wayward sheep to your computer, gingerly play the following clip, and let The Spirit move. Oh, and make sure everyone is at least 2 feet from your monitor so they will have room to come forward. Unless, of course, you are not one of the frozen chosen, in which case you will need to amass yoga mats to cushion those being slain in The Spirit. It will be similar to Pentecost sans the original cast. Good luck and God bless.

(P.S. Are you and Jesus homies? Apparently that is an option for those wanting to upgrade their salvation package to "gangsta status".)

Now tell me. Who wants the gangsta status? It comes with a free gotee and lowrider toga.

My Battle With Chronic Pain

2009-02-23T03:00:00.000-08:00

Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete not lacking in anything. James 1:4

These days chronic pain is my companion. It is the first sensation I wake to in the morning and usually the last sensation I fall asleep to at night. I didn't ask for my life to be this way, it's just something that has happened to me.

On better days - when the waves of pain part just long enough for me to come up for air - I'd call on the better angels of my nature to make a glowing spiritual conclusion about it all. Yet today isn't a better day. To tell the truth, I haven't had a better day in over a month.

To give you perspective, I can't remember a day in the last 4 years I didn't have pain. According to my doctor I have fibromyalgia, or something like it, no one knows for sure. It's not autoimmune, like rheumatoid arthritis. It's not degenerative, like, say Lupus or MS. For this I am thankful, especially since both autoimmune and degenerative conditions run in my family. God has protected me in ways I don't fully comprehend; this makes my heart swell with love for Him.

Still, I am in pain. I have never let you into this part of my life because I am afraid. First, out of pride, I don't want to be seen as "sick" instead of Stacy. Regardless of how I feel on a certain day I am still me and don't want anyone to feel sorry for me. Secondly, owning up to an Achilles Heel forces me to acknowledge the situation, which hurts, but in a different way.

Usually I deal and move on. Unfortunately, this month I've been land blasted. While my pain is usually isolated to headaches, upper back pain and arm pain, the location of the pain has shifted to my hips, legs, feet, and hands. This month there have been days when I can't stand for more than 5 minutes at a time. As a mom this is bad news, but manageable because I can sit and still accomplish many things - cooking while sitting on the counter, playing board games, driving, shoveling ice cream into my mouth, etc. Then that gave out, too. For the past 7-10 days I have been exhausted and overwhelmed by searing pain. Laying down has been my only option. That's not so easy to hide.

Pain meds? Yes, there are some I can take but most don't work. My doctor suggested trying a narcotic last week. I refused. To be frank, when we know I have a pain issue that will be life-long I can't start a regimen of narcotics at 34. I've never been addicted to drugs but I'm not going to say I'm above anything. Someone told me, "When you get desperate enough you'll give up." Maybe, but that's not today. Others use them with great success and I'm happy for them. For me, I can't go there now... Maybe it's pride. Or determination to overcome. Probably both.

Dealing with pain has brought depression into my life. And guilt - there's always the mommy guilt. That sounds like, "Why can't I be like other moms? I want to run with my kids, too. I don't want to give in to pain and be grouchy, short fused, tired, etc." And of course there's the idea that my kids will remember me as Mommy Malady.

Anything that is not critically important has fallen by the wayside. When I want to be a person of my word there have been promises I haven't been able to maintain because I just can't. Then, I worry about being seen as inconsistent or unreliable. I know, I know. I shouldn't worry about what others think, but I do. Not long ago I had a Bible study leader say to me, "I've noticed Dan and the kids at church without you. That's wrong. I know you say you have pain but it can't be that bad, can it?" Slap! Though I think that's judgemental and shortsighted, it hurts to know I'm not the only one questioning myself.

Many of my disappointments with the circumstance would cease if I'd give up the idea that perfect is attainable. What I'm coming to understand is that perfect is best defined as "something I don't have right now". What I mean is, on any given day, pain or not, I've given in to the idolatry called covetousness. I want what someone else has. It's like there's this buffet of all things bright and shiny and good just waiting to be had but I've been denied access. One person noshes on "no depression" not realizing I'd love just a bite of what's on her plate. So I shut her out to protect myself. (Then wonder why I feel isolated...) Another person ladles "pain free" into a bowl and heartily eats. But somehow my ladle is just a slotted spoon. So I get mad about what I don't have, begrudge others for being blessed, and sob over all things unattained. And somehow, it never makes me feel any better.

There is only one way out: daily perseverance. The discipline of perseverance (or patience) can be hard work to maintain. It's not glossing over the circumstance, it's remaining faithful regardless of it. In other words, it's remembering that while the slotted spoon may not hold all things, it still catches meat when given a chance.

This is my struggle. It may show up as pain but it translates to whether or not I embrace "my grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in your weakness". (II Corinthians 2:9)

Do you struggle? Think you'd share with me, and others here, what your struggle is? If you can't share your struggle, how do you embrace Christ in spite of it? Your answers would be so encouraging. Maybe they'd be a resource to all of us.

P.S. Amazingly, I have not lost my sense of humor. Though my posts have not been as meaty you guys still show up and that has kept me going. Here and on facebook (Stacy A. Small) our community has blessed me over and over. Thank you so much! You all are amazing. I hope you are blessed too.)

Wicky-Wicky Wednesday, video III

2009-02-18T11:30:00.000-08:00

This actually goes along with this month's theme. It's perfect for anyone, married or not. Just some general advice to all the guys out there. This is video III.

Now that you've seen all three videos, which was your favorite?

Wacktacular Wednesday, Video II (made me laugh till I cried)

2009-02-18T07:30:00.000-08:00

Probably not what Stephen Curtis Chapman had in mind, but oh well. I don't think he reads SFL on Wednesdays anyway. Here's video II.

Okay, tell the truth. Who had this in their wedding? Own up to it. Would have been better if it was this version. Just saying.

(Also, this says nothing about fruity daiquiris.)

Wacky Wednesday, Video I

2009-02-18T03:00:00.000-08:00

Today, give my absence for the past two days, I've decided to make it up to you with 3 posts today. Hopefully, each one will be funnier than the last. Here's the first installment. See you in a couple of hours with the next video.

Special thanks to Donna who introduced me to Tim Hawkins. He's spectacular.

Love Stinks or Happy Valentines Day

2009-02-13T05:52:00.001-08:00

In anticipation of Valentine's Day I picked something out just for you! You'll have to deal with some Spanish subtitles but I think you'll be okay. Enjoy! Come back tomorrow to see what I did to Dan as a special "I Love You" surprise. There will be balloons and embarassment involved. Just saying.

Since When Are Men Stupid?

2009-02-12T03:00:00.000-08:00

(This is an archive from SFL that has been reworked for today's post. Before reading this, please know that I am not talking to women who are in physically abusive relationships. Please, if your safety is an issue, please, please get help today.)

Boink! That's the sound of me stepping up on a soap box. Are you ready? Let's go...

Since when are men stupid? When did women let pop culture decide that Homer Simpson was the rule, not the exception; that men are, in fact, lazy, spineless, and foolish? I've seen some women treat their husbands like garbage, like subservient children who are lucky to have a wife to educate them. I've seen this on TV and in movies. It seems like this is everywhere I turn, even the church.

Now before you bounce off the page, hear this: Men are not blameless, they have their faults and I think they're the first to admit it. They have insecurities and shortcomings and they know it. I have never seen a perfect man. But I surely have seen very good men become an empty shell of their wives own styling. How does this happen?

When two people are dating everything seems perfect. She adores his ideas, opinions, and strength. They get married and somewhere along the line her attitude changes. The smiling woman he adored gives way to a person he doesn't know, who may even demean him to her family or children. Everything is suddenly fodder for a fire that burns a dark, steep abyss between them. The friendship goes, the camaraderie turns to jagged blows, and intimacy gives way to void. He clams up out of hurt and loss; he's grieving the wife he lost somewhere along the way. So, he makes due the best he can by simply and quietly enduring.

At first glance you’d think it’s because he’s just given up. But I have another theory: Perhaps because after all the chipping away at his armor, he thinks, "Maybe she's right - maybe I am stupid." Of course this isn't true, but I think people can only take so much before it starts to do damage.

So why do we sometimes do this? You know what I mean, a group of ladies get together and it isn't long before someone starts making fun of her husband. And another joins in, and another.

Years ago I listened to a woman emphatically declare that if her husband didn't do housework "her way" she would withhold sex until he did it right. "It's his reward for coming around," she laughed. She wasn't kidding. All I could think was, "What if he withheld comfort and conversation from her until she was empty? Then she might know what she's putting him through." But I'm a coward, I said nothing. Well, that's not entirely true. Somewhere during her tirade I interrupted with, "Are you high?"

Any of this sound familiar? Have you ever treated your husband like he was stupid? Men, have you ever been treated this way? It's a mistake that's common, but there's grace to cover it but the basing has got to stop.

Here are a couple of ideas that have worked for me:

- Watch how you talk about your spouse to your kids. Don't make your frustration theirs; if you do you're unfairly asking them to carry a burden for the rest of their lives. Instead of saying, (infer sarcasm) "Dad's working late again. Typical!" Try saying, "You are lucky to have a daddy who works so hard for us. He misses you, too." You may not believe it at the time. You may have grounds to be really pissed off. But children, no matter their age, are children and they love their father.

- Treat your husband like he's the man you dated. Chances are, when you were dating, you both did as much as possible to extend grace to the other. Why not try that again now? Yes, times are different and maybe you're both hurting. I'm not asking you to pretend. I'm suggesting you forgive and move on. If you spend your days waiting for your husband to suddenly transform into Mr. Perfect you'll be waiting for a long time. Let God work on you. Surrender your will to His. Let God deal with your husband.

- Enjoy sex. Withholding sex hurts men in ways women don't understand. When men have sex there is a chemical reaction in the brain that tells him to protect and provide for you. Being female, I don't quite get it. But I do know that sex is bonding for both partners. Assuming there are no larger issues like abuse in your relationship, sex can bring back the fire between you. You say you don't enjoy sex? Increasing frequency will help both of you learn about each other. Try it and see.

-Don't set your spouse up for failure. I sometimes have expectations of my marriage that don't fit my husband's personality. Hanging on to those Harlequin dreams will sabotage any fun we have. So, instead of falling for all those lies that good husbands give their wives diamonds and roses for Valentine's Day, I'm going to surprise him with a gift he'll love. This year Valentine's Day will find Dan and I blowing $20 at a local arcade. We'll have a blast because that's what works for us. Ladies, your husband wants you to be his playmate, and not just in the bedroom.

- Enjoy more sex. Be willing and have fun. Wait, did I already emphasize this? I'll just assume some body's husband will have a great weekend because I repeated myself. Now don't make me look stupid...

- Fall in love with Jesus. He made marriage and He made men and women different. He longs to love on you and your spouse. Sometimes we use God as a last resort. In a crisis we turn to Him and He pulls us through. But what if that same grace carried you day to day as you tried to love your spouse? Think about it. (Also, He wants you to have more sex. Just saying.)

-Talk to a counselor and get accountability before things get worse. Sometimes hurt piles up and starts to rot like maggoty meat. Getting the help you need today can save your marriage and a world of hurt. Don't be a hero - ask for help until someone listens.

Maybe you're here reading this and didn't get what you expected today. Perhaps this hits a sensitive spot for you. Know you don't struggle alone. The person you married (or may marry one day) isn't your worst enemy. If you fell in love once, you can do it again. By stopping the jabs you can restart the process today.

So what do you think?

P.S. I would really like to hear the male perspective on this if there are any guys willing to comment. I think "Anon" is a perfect alias, don't you??

Need A Good Laugh?

2009-02-11T08:50:00.001-08:00

Some of you have been stalking me about posting the following clip on our little site, so here you go. It is ridiculously funny and I endorse it completely. Hang on until minute 3:59. There's another highlight at 5:45, too. Turn your speakers up, invite your coworkers over, and make sure you're not eating anything or you'll spit it out for laughing.

Insert Funny Parenting Title Here

2009-02-10T03:00:00.000-08:00

Nearly 8 years ago I found myself in a hospital delivery room. Not desiring to be anyone's hero I partook of the sacred epidural pain block. When it came time a nurse resembling a Nazi got in my face and yelled, "PUSH!" Not to be outdone, I got in her face screamed, "NO!" Everyone in the delivery room looked at me. The doctor asked, "Mrs. Small, why won't you push?" I whispered, "Because I think when these drugs wear off all this is really going to hurt." Hospital staff exchanged glances but no one spoke. What could they say? The monitor beeped again and Nurse Lederhousen yelled, "PUSH! NOW!" Assuming they didn't hear me the first time I repeated, "NO! I can't push!" The doctor, wishing he had joined Up With People instead of going to med school, asked, "Mrs. Small! Why won't you push?!"

"I can't push because I don't know how to be a mom!" I screamed, tears running down my face. My heart was on the line, a baby was in...well, you know..., and I needed reassurance.

Instead, Fraulein Gestapo jumped on the bed, shoved my knee to my chest and said through clenched teeth, "You should have thought about that 9 months ago! PUSH!"

And I did. Twice. And my life changed forever.

Like I said, that was 8 years ago. Ironically, I still don't know how to be a good mom. Most days I fake it and so far, so good. But when ketchup stops being a vegetable I might have a problem.

As with most issues men and women can be deadly in their critique of other's parenting. It's insane. Since I'm sure my parenting skills haven't always been up to snuff, I'll just go ahead and tell you what people say about me:

"Don't let your kids go to The Smalls'. She bathes those children in High Fructose Corn Syrup. They wipe their boogers on hobos and cheat on Chutes and Ladders without repenting. I swear that woman blogs all day and the only people who read it are inmates. Her kids have cavities, they disobey, and the youngest thinks Sponge Bob is a disciple. Bless her heart. I'm only telling you because they need our prayer."

It came as as no surprise that when I asked for ideas relating to this month's topic, several of you asked me to talk about raising kids. I'm no authority on being a parent but here are some things I'm learning along the way.

- Talk in the same room. This one is Dan's idea. He'd feel disrespected when I'd yell, from the kitchen to the office, "Hey! What are you doing?" If I really cared, I would stop what I was doing and have a real conversation. So, we try really hard not to yell at each other or the kids from across the house. It only leads to misunderstandings and frustration anyway.

- Technology is not more important than real, live people. I'm writing this at nearly midnight. Why? Everyone else is asleep and I'm not taking time away from them. There are days when they beg me to get off the computer. That's a horrible example. So, today I spent 95% of my time focused on my kids. No TV, very little computer. Know what? We all enjoyed each other and no one died from being deprived of the Innernets. Who knew?

- Respect matters to everyone. It communicates value and worth. If my daughter messes up and I say, "What's wrong with you?" she is going to feel stupid and embarrassed. I have to focus on training, not demeaning. Even if she did royally screw up my discipline will be worthless words if they are harsh or hasty. I haven't mastered it, but it's getting better.

- Talk to your spouse and don't allow children to interrupt. I want my kids to know I value their dad and what he says to me. Every night after dinner Dan and I talk for 20-30 minutes. We've done this for over two years and it has been fantastic. When the kids interrupt they are told, "Daddy is talking to Mommy. When we are done we'll pop your shoulder back into socket." Ok, I'm kidding. But what they're seeing is healthy marriage. In our house kids don't come first and they know that. Mommy and Daddy set the tone for the house by loving each other. For 20 minutes, everyday, the kids see that acted out.

- Being a stay at home mom is great, but it's not for everyone. I have been a stay at home mom for 8 years. Sometimes, though, it has been drastically isolating for me. I'm sanguine and an extrovert. When I was isolated I was depressed a lot. Would a job have made that better? Probably not, mothers who work have their struggles, too. What I do know is there are some women who think being a stay at home mom is THE. ONLY. WAY. to be a mom. I've seen SAHMs ruthlessly belittle working mothers, calling them greedy, neglectful, vain and selfish. It's disgusting. God made us to be there for each other. Judging another person's calling divides relationships. Do we really need that in the body of Christ?

- Laugh. We do this. All the time. We are happily ridiculous. But we're not attractive so don't hate us. Let go of the little stuff and enjoy your family. Time passes quickly, catch as much of it as you can. (I should work for Hallmark.)

So you can see I have a long way to go. We all do. If you've got parenting mistakes you've learned from, share them here. I know I could use all the help I can get.

Women: Know Your Limits!

2009-02-09T03:00:00.000-08:00

My husband and I had a date Saturday evening. He got ready and asked me, "How do I look?" Gently I reminded him, "Honey, I'm eye candy. No one will be looking at you." Just goes to show you that every once in awhile we all need a nudge back to reality.

Tomorrow we will venture back into relationship territory. But for today I wanted to share this insightful documentary. Watch it with an open mind. And by all means, apply what you learn, especially at church. Ladies, we can't have you understanding too much about your own salvation, now can we? Just go back to the nursery, put on an apron, rock a crying child, and think about being prettier.

For now, what's the most ridiculous thing you ever heard someone say in public?

I'll go first. A girl I went to Bible college with had a job in the school's main office. Her cubicle was plain and she decided to spruce it up. Someone walked by and said, "Katie, what are you doing?" She smiled and said, "I'm decorating my pubical." Oops.

Nothing Says God Loves You Quite Like Mass Carnage

2009-02-06T03:00:00.000-08:00

"No one was laughing at Noah anymore. Everything on the land was now under water. Every living thing on earth drowned."

This is a real coloring book page sent to me by my sister. Feel free to print it out, color it, and send it back to me. Who knows? I might just have to post it for everyone to see. Well, that is, everyone who didn't drown in a cataclysmic flood sent by God to wipe out mankind for their heinous sin and general naughtiness. Such honesty in a coloring book is refreshing, though. Can't wait for that extra special page about Abraham's circumcision. Snip, snip!

Today's assignment has 2 parts:
1) What Bible story would you like to see in a coloring book?

2) And, back to this page, let's give these drowning sinners some captions? What are they thinking or saying to one another?

One Perfect Lie

2009-02-05T03:00:00.000-08:00

The only person who ends up happy in Cinderella is the fat mouse Gus. And that's just because he's too stupid to know better. The rest of it is crap.

Now I'm not a Cinderella hater but what if Cinderella was a true story? Wouldn't you like to sit in on couple's therapy with them? Abandoned by the death of her father and made to scrub toilets with her hairbrush, she'll have trust and personal hygiene issues that'll shatter that glass slipper. And the prince? Full of himself with an overbearing father who throws chicks at him like knickers at an Elvis concert... Oh yeah. Happily never after.

Yet so many of us are delusional about Fairy Tale endings. Whether you're a man or woman no one says "I do" thinking, "I can't wait till we're both jaded and in a sexless marriage. That will be spectacular!" But it happens doesn't it?

Our society constantly bombards us with images that counterfeit romance, perfection, sex and infatuation for genuine love. This thinking sets up marriage for failure: we want much, but are willing to give very little.

Try this on for size. You've seen it before but humor me.

This movie coined the phrases, "You complete me" and "You had me at hello". When that scene was first aired in movie theaters two things happened:

Women teared up and wondered why the guy next to them never said anything remotely as romantic and if he hadn't, shouldn't she demand it of him? She's worth it, isn't she?

Men shifted in their seats and wondered if this sopping, Velveeta-logged chick flick would ever end.

Though at the time I did the chick thing, I have to side with the guys now. If you break Jerry McGuire apart you have a widowed single mom, a recently dumped fiancee with career and commitment issues, haphazard sex between two people who barely know each other, marriage on a whim and a preschooler who drops the f-bomb and wants to go to the zoo. (Now that sounds awesome, somebody sign me up. Wait. I'm already married and monogamous. Danggit! I always miss out on the good stuff.)

The underlying message here is "My life sucks. What can you do for me to come in and clean it up and make it slightly less massacureish?" But those lines don't sell movies.

Yes, Jerry McGuire is just a movie. It's entertainment. We all know entertainment is that one part of life that doesn't have to support our convictions, right?

The idea that another person - a spouse or someone you're living with because marriage isn't convenient - can complete you is one perfect lie. It's a premeditated deception that gives Satan the jollies like none other. Why? Because God is about relationships. He uses marriage to make us more like Him and to show His love for us.

Marriage isn't about making us happy, though there are happy times to be had for sure. Marriage is a relationship that brings sin to the surface. It's our choice whether or not we will turn to God to redeem us, our spouse to fix us, or our own faulty judgment to excuse us when we bail. The last two will chip away at you, your spouse, and your relationship with Christ every time.

In every relationship we've got to remember that each person is steeped in sin. In marriage, your spouse's sin and your sin will play off each other until you: A) don't recognize each other anymore, B) doubt that this person is "the one" (which could somehow justify divorce) or C) you surrender yourself to Christ and let him work on you regardless of whether or not your spouse changes. It's a narrow road to be sure.

I believe all couples - Christian or not - will deal with all these scenarios at some point. It's my hunch that the Christian couples who have marriages that thrive, practice #3 before ever saying "I do". And they keep practicing it whether they feel like it or not; they know love isn't a feeling, it's a choice.

How do I know this stuff? A few years ago Dan and I were on the brink of disaster. Kids, it was bad. Really. Why did we stay with it? Because no matter how imperfect our situation we could not justify jumping ship on a commitment to Christ. There was hell to pay and we anted up. Turns out we believed a lot of lies. These days we know more about Biblical love. We're not perfect, we're not even close. But we're in Him and we're together, always.

I don't know where you are in your life now. Maybe you're single or dating. Maybe you're married, happily or otherwise. I'd love to hear from you: What lies have tried to derail your marriage, or your idea of marriage? What truth are you basing your relationship on now? Let's get some conversation going.

Who Missed Me?

2009-02-03T05:37:00.000-08:00

It's 3 days into February and I've missed 72 whole hours of blogging about relationships. No one is more disgruntled about this than me. Well, no one except maybe this guy:

I asked the following question on Facebook:

What makes for an excellent marriage?

Nick said, "Communication and sex ... and communication about sex, but only with each other regarding the sex and communication about sex."

Poor Nick. 3 inches of ice and no computer at my folks house made for some lonely days here at SFL. So today, we will not talk about relationships, but I want to show you something worthy of love, love, love. And I'd like to dedicate it to myself because how often do you get to dedicate something to yourself? It's kind of self-centered, but let's be frank. I can't love on everyone who reads SFL all at the same time and since my favorite person to talk about is me, why waste your time with any other sentiment?

It's good to be back!

I Hope I Don't Get Dropped Kicked

2009-01-29T19:00:00.000-08:00

So, it's 10pm and I was looking at Stacy's blog when someone asked if I could do a guest post. So, knowing that this is sacred ground that I am treading on, I'll seek forgiveness later instead of permission now.

I need to say that I am very proud of Stacy for her dedication to her blog. We have been married for almost 10 years and she is a very creative person (one of the reasons I married her, she married me because of my 10 key skills) and over the past several years that creativity has been looking for a way to express itself. She loves to write and I am thankful that she has found this outlet and a community that she feels very close to. Being a CPA, I'm actually quite happy spending my day in my office, talking to only myself. As you can imagine this would drive Stacy insane, infact even the thought of how I can enjoy it is sick to her. Even though I don't share her excitement about the comments, it does make me happy to she her light up.

So, with that said, here it goes...

The 5 Things A CPA Never Wants To Hear During Tax Season...

1. Please don't tell me the office lost power
You see, I'm really ok with the majority of the city being without power. People are more worried about McDonalds running out of food and leave me alone. I was even ok with no power at the house, at least until I found out that there was a half eaten carton of Moose Tracks ice cream melting in the freezer! It's tax season, and I spend as much time as I can at the office. We have a fridge, a microwave and a tv (March Madness is right around the corner). It is a small practice and truely is a home away from home for me. But the power out at work, now that sucks. January 31 is a deadline for us, so this is really bad timing. By the way half melted Moose Tracks is better then no Moose Tracks. Melted Moose Tracks, old pizza and a coke, how about that for dinner!

2. When do you think you will have my tax return done (for the 5th time)?
Is there a nice way to say I have no flippin idea and if you ask me again your are going to the bottom of this list! That line is often used with my kids, if you ask me one more time how much longer until we get there, I'm going to turn the car around and go back home! Your right, I've probably said it but never meant it unless we were headed to Chuckie Cheese. It's not even February yet and we probably have about 50 corporate returns sitting in the office right now. So, when Monday comes and everyone gets their W2's that list will be closer to 125 in the next 7-10 days. So, if you have a CPA do your taxes, be nice to them this year. Drop off your stuff, give him a coke and don't ask when they will be done, just smile, say I hope you are having a great day and let me know when they are done. Chances are you just got your taxes moved up the list.

3. So, how have you been....
With all due respect most people just don't understand tax season. There are just three of us in the office and only two who actually sign off on returns. Last year we probably did close to 700 returns. Now not all of those will get done by April 15 but still, I really don't have time to chit chat about your aunt millie who had a colon cleaned out this past summer. I don't care about your kids or where you went on vacation. And when I sound interested about the fact that you got married had a baby or got a new job, I couldn't care less. The only reason I care about that cute new baby that looks like a monkey is the extra deduction you'll get on your tax return. Which by the way you will thank me for as if I'm giving you the extra money. This causes me to laugh at you and call you a freak as soon as you leave the office, because that new tax deduction sure is going to cost you alot more then what you are saving on your taxes. And yes we do make fun of people when the leave the office sometimes, not the most Christian thing to do, so I'll apologize in advance.

4. Well, just use the same amounts as last year or just give me the maximum allowed
Hmmm. I don't know if you realize this but the IRS is really not a bad bunch of people. I often have the honor of calling them and the number I call is special. I typically don't have to wait more then 10 minutes on hold and since I know what I'm talking about they will listen to me. But even though I will tell the IRS some sob story about how pathetic of a client you are (don't forget I'm on your side, so give me a break), they will not be happy when they want proof of a charity deduction and my response is "Oh well that's what they had last year". That's just not how it works. That's like getting pulled over by a cop and he asks Do you know how fast you were going, and you saying well last year I was only going.... In case you have ever wondered, audits are real but not real fun. Seriously I'd rather spend a whole day at the mall then go through an audit. Just be honest on your taxes both your CPA and God, I mean the IRS will be much happier with you.

5. Oh, did I tell you about...
It's April 15 at 4pm, your taxes are signed, all of the copies have been printed, they are in a nice pretty little folder that you will loose or stuff in the back of a drawer, and you walk in the door and say, Oh, did I tell you about.... WELL, @$&! NO YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THA, YOU IDIOT!!!! Once again that is one of those things that is said after you leave the office, but believe me it is screaming in my mind. The misconception is that I sit around the office all day eating Bon Bons and playing Halo 3 with the other people in the office just waiting for you to come in the door. I'd say we make 40% of our money for the year before April 15. So, if you want to be nice to your CPA make sure you give him all the information the first time.

So there you have it, a guest post from the guy married to SFL. And if you have any good tax stories I'd sure love to hear them (Wow, that will make for some fun comments!! I can hardly wait and I'm sure Stacy is about to pee her pants)

Stacy really gets a kick out of everyone that reads and comments on her craziness. She will be back so just hold tight.

Stacy, thank you for enduring tax season, hope you are warm and give your mom a big smooch for me.

Good night and Happy Tax Season!

Stacy From...Indy?

2009-01-29T09:54:00.000-08:00

500,000+ homes are without power in Louisville and we're in the mix. So I'm headed to Indy, but without Dan. He's got to stay here. Know what that means? NO COMPUTER FOR STACY...

Know that until I post again I miss you, love you, and think of you often. See you in a few days.

Thanks for understanding.

Ice! And Snow! And I'm Freezing! Oh My!

2009-01-29T05:32:00.000-08:00

I've never pooped a butterfly but I'm sure that's nice. And, kids, I could use a little nice today. Or at least a vacation from reality.

A huge ice and snow storm came through Louisville Tuesday and Wednesday. SFL headquarters is without power as of yesterday afternoon, which is more spectacular than I can say. Much of the city is shut down, without power and roads are filled with broken and uprooted trees.

We're looking at about 7 days without power. Every hotel room in the city is filled. We're trying to figure out what to do.

Sorry for the short post. In the meantime, can we come stay with you?

Subscribe to Stacy From Louisville - An Intereractive Cut and Paste!

2009-01-27T03:00:00.000-08:00

Did you know you can have all the goodness of Stacy From Louisville in the form of a subscription? There is a real, live button somewhere on this blog that says "subscribe". It's true! It has only taken me six whole weeks to figure it out.

No, I'm not kidding. That's 6 whole weeks.

For you, dear friends, I stayed course and finished strong. With 3 dashes of common sense, a click of the mouse, and a few swear words thrown in for good measure I came through for you. So do me a favor. Have this lovely site sent to you already.

To tell the truth, I'm not all that sure how a subscription works, I'm assuming it comes directly to you, but then again, it took me 6 whole weeks to figure out the application. You might want to send it to a friend first, or an enemy, you know, whatever and see what happens. In fact, why don't I just make up a nice little note for you to e-mail right to them announcing their new subscription to Stacy From Louisville? That's right. You can now e-mail posts, too. Figured that out around the same time I figured out the subscription thing. I'm so innernets stupid.

Personalize, then cut and past the following. Or just e-mail as is. Either way you're about to become super popular and get invited to lots of parties and stuff. Wow. What's it like to be lucky ol' you? This is no regualr Tuesday my friends.

***********************************************************************************

Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!

You're such a good (choose one, but don't write on your screen dummy - it won't send) : friend, neighbor, husband, sister, pastor, babysitter, acquaintance, janitor, bank teller I barely know, felon and/or inmate, therapist with compromised boundaries, stranger who makes me uncomfortable

In honor of the time you (again, no ink on the monitor): offered your friendship, babysat my kids, walked my dog, demusked the ferret, locked the liquor cabinet when my kids came over, dented my car and then denied it, stole my identity, cut me off in the carpool lane

I'm giving you this free subscription to Stacy From Louisville, the only blog (pick all that apply): as nice as you, I ever read, with month long PMS - just like you!, as neurotic as you, that might talk some sense into you and your inbred family

Have a nice: day, picnic, eternity, 6 years to life, hootenanny, SSRI, burrito, breast augmentation you vain pin head

Love: (insert your name), your wife, your mom, your dad, the cat, that girl you couldn't stand in high school, William Shatner, or Jon Acuff

**************************************************************************************

So tell me, do you like the subscription notification I made? I did it all by myself. Is it too much? Just who will you be sending it to?

How To Be A Good Wife, Vol. 1

2009-01-26T05:37:00.000-08:00

Why yes, the appetizer does match my dress!!

Home Economics High School Text Book, 1954

(to see my response to this list click here)

Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal, on time. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal are part of the warm welcome needed.

Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so that you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your makeup, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people. Be a little gay and a little more interesting. His boring day may need a lift.

Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the home just before your husband arrives, gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper, etc. Then run a dust cloth over the tables. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift, too.

Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair, and if necessary change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part.

Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer, dishwasher, or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet. Be happy to see him. Greet him with a warm smile and be glad he is home.

Some don'ts: Don't greet him with problems or complaints. Don't complain if he is late for dinner. Count this as minor compared with what he might have gone through that day. Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or suggest he lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him. Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soft, soothing and pleasant voice. Allow him to relax and unwind.

Listen to him. You may have a dozen things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first.

Make the evening his. Never complain if he does not take you out to dinner or to other places of entertainment. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure, his need to be home and relax.

The Goal: Try to make your home a place of peace and order where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.

Hungry for more? Scroll down to the next post.

How To Be A Good Wife, Vol. 2

2009-01-26T05:36:00.000-08:00

Did you just say margarita?

The Stacy From Louisville Response to 1954's List

Have ice in abundance in the freezer. This will not make dinner but it will make margaritas easier to assemble. Plan ahead and keep mixer on hand at all times. Immediately after carpool begin nursing your drink to make homework time more enjoyable for all.

Prepare for dinner. Most men are hungry when they come home. So meet him in the driveway, kids in one hand, Margarita in the other. Jump in the car before he knows what hit him. Don't say "hi" or "How was your day?" Men prefer a woman who is direct. He'll appreciate a simple "Applebees. Now." Be sure to tell him how to drive the entire way, he's tired after all, and will probably forget to stop on red and go on green. Warn him not to hit potholes or speed bumps because you will not be responsible for margarita that spills between the seats.

Prepare yourself for his arrival home. Brush your teeth (finally) around 4:30. If he wanted you to be refreshed for his arrival home he should have thought about that before you had that 4th kid. Too late now.

Clear away the clutter. Make a trip to the living room and shove school papers, toys, magazines, stray cheetos, the hamster and empty mixer bottles under the couch cushions. Later, when he mentions the couch is very uncomfortable suggest he hand you the remote and see if he feels better. This is also a good time to remind him you are wanting a new couch. Men like advanced warning of expensive, frivolous purchases that loom on the horizon of the Visa bill. Lucky guy. He'll think you're the cat's pajamas.

Prepare the children. Stick them in front of a DVD or violent video game. Put in earplugs. Read a romance novel and wonder where your life went off course.

Some don'ts: Don't look too good when he comes home. You looked fantastic on your wedding day. More than that is too much to ask. Don't forget your list of broken appliances and children's arguments that need his immediate attention. After all, he needs to know his expertise is valued. Don't forget to point out the TV dinners in the freezer as you waltz yourself upstairs for some "Bible study time". He was at work all day laughing and carousing with co-workers over Hawiian Punch and pillow fights. He's surely ready to come home and do something productive.

The Goal: To lovingly introduce him to the chaos that is your life so he will be more than happy to go to work day after day to provide for the family in every way. Up to and including purchasing a new couch. And a vasectomy.

Is there anything I forgot? Please make your suggestions as swell as possible.

Don't Mess Up An Otherwise Pure Friday

2009-01-23T03:00:00.000-08:00

What else can I say?

Anne Taintor post cards

Love Stinks Give Away

2009-01-22T03:15:00.000-08:00

I love bacon so much I could have married it, but I don't think it would have worked out. Eventually, I'm sure, in a moment of weakness, I'd give myself over to pork rinds. It would have been a scandalous mess of inappropriate. There'd be sleepless nights with nothing but my regrets and Celene Dion's "All By Myself" to comfort me. Surely bacon and I would take the high road, enter couples therapy and renew our vows. But would we ever sizzle like we had before? My friends, in the grand slam scheme of things, that's a gamble I'm just not willing to take.

Bottom line: Love, in whatever form, is never easy.

Apparently you agree wholeheartedly.

Two days ago I announced that in February we'd be talking about dating, marriage, relationships and sex. I thought I'd bribe you to leave a comment by offering a gift. Yet when some of you saw the word "sex" as a topic of discussion you needed no bribe, you were more than willing to give your 2 cents, and then some. I'm glad you did.

For whatever reason most churches I've attended treat sex as an off limits topic, even in married circles. To me it's a shame. God created us for relationships. He also designed marriage. Sex was part of His plan. If Christians can't talk about healthy relationships or sex we open ourselves to the world's skewed perspective. The world's perspective is one of instant gratification, selfishness, and abandonment. God's perspective of relationships is surrender, forgiveness, and intimacy. So this month we're going to compare and contrast the two and I can't wait to journey with you.

In the meantime let me introduce the Love Stinks Super Smelly Prize Pack o' Puke:

This lovely prize pack celebrates all the times love has left a flaming bag of poop on your doorstep. Been dumped? Misunderstood? Two timed? Annoyed? Then this is the pack for you!

1 - 3 pack Flarp! Stink Bag. Squeeze each sulfur filled pack, shake, bag will begin to inflate, drop and run. The bag will burst open and pop filling your world with with nothin' but whiff. (Couldn't make it up if I tried.)

1 - Cat Butt Air Freshener. Smells like hyacinth, shaped like a cat's butt. To quote the package, "Blue Q air fresheners mask unpleasant odors from spilled beverages and bits of hamburger dropped between the seats." Only $2.95 at a Books-A-Million near you. (Also comes in Mullet!)

1 Jack Link's Jerky Chew Shredded Beef Jerky. On a very personal note, I once had a friend who dipped. He'd spit in an empty Coke can. That was disgusting. But here we have beef you can suck on to your heart's content. And in fundamentalist settings, too. For example:

Sally Seuss McKnickertwist: I see your chew there in a wad. You chew in the pew? I think that's odd. You must not read the Word of God!

You: No, actually I'm sucking on beef. Whether or not you know it, you suck, too.

1 box of Bean Boozled Jelly Belly Jelly Beans - In this box are 20 jelly beans that look identical, 2 white, 2 green, 2 black, etc. The problem is one tastes good, the other tastes awful. Here are the flavors: Pencil Shavings, Skunk Spray, Vomit, Baby Wipes, and so on. Good luck with that.

Today's lucky, randomly selected winner is: Stacie @ 7:40 am! Congratulations Stacie. Email me your info and your prize is on its way!

But there's one more gift I'd like to give away and here it is:

2009 Anne Taintor Wall Calendar, the official wall calendar of SFL. Had it with domestic bliss? This retro calendar features color photos and captions like, "There was nothing passive about her aggression" and "Her proudest achievement was staying blonde."

This lovely calendar is awarded to the owner of this comment that made my day:

"Sex is my favorite! Who else is singin' Salt 'n Peppa right now?!!" Daphnie

Between now and the end of February keep this ideas coming. Leave comments. Or e-mail me at stacyasmall@att.net

For today, answer this question: What is the difference between love and infatuation? What does it take to have both in a marriage?

For The Least of These, Vol. 1

2009-01-21T03:00:00.000-08:00

Outreach: Stories From The Shadows of The Streets

Across town a starving teenage boy prostitutes himself in exchange for a meal.

Beneath a cluster of trees a 17 year old girl, strung out on drugs, will wake up tomorrow with frost on her clothes and her face in the dirt.

In an abandoned building a group of young people huddle together to escape hypothermia, using a toaster as their only source of heat.

Today, in the United States, 13 homeless young people will die, remembered only by the statistic that outlives them.

These situations are not fictional, they are real. In cities all over the U.S. homeless teenagers sleep beneath over passes, congregate in drainage ditches, or make their home in a car. These are the invisible people, loved by Jesus Christ, that Outreach, Inc. of Indianapolis, IN embraces every day.

Established in 1996 Outreach, Inc. is a non-profit Christian ministry in Indianapolis, IN. Their mission is to reach out to homeless and at-risk young adults with the compassion of Jesus Christ. Outreach accomplishes this by providing street outreach, a youth drop-in center, holistic social services, emergency/referral services and case management; operated in an environment of God's love. They are dedicated to introducing the youth to a relationship with Jesus Christ and helping them to mature in that relationship. Outreach comes along side the church in helping it understand and fulfill the “Great Commission” on a local level by training, equipping and supporting the body of Christ and community to minister to this population, empowering the youth to exit the street life.

Eric Howard is the founder of Outreach. He and his staff of 6 are burdened for the survival of street kids. "Every community has homeless teens," Howard relates, "It just a matter of connecting with them." And connecting with these teens is exactly what he and his staff have done.

Outreach staff and volunteers are on the streets 2-3 days a week, week after week, searching for youth ages 17-24. They meet kids and build a relationships with them based on trust. Their goal is to move them toward leaving the street life and culture.

When most of us think of homelessness we think of adults. Yet, according to Howard, it's not uncommon for teenagers to become homeless for numerous reasons: the death of their only parent, running away to escape physical, sexual, or emotional abuse, addiction, mental illness, and abandonment to name a few. But the danger doesn't end when these young people leave home. Life on the streets is about survival at any cost. Howard said, "These kids don't make long term plans. Their greatest hope is to live to see the next day, to survive despite the odds. Every day they could face rape, abduction, addiction, murder, hypothermia, starvation or gang activity. And that's just the tip of the iceberg."

According to the statistics Howard is right.

1/3 of homeless teens report having witnessed a stabbing, rape, shooting, or murder.
32% of homeless teenagers have attempted suicide.
41% of females report being pregnant to shelters.
85% of homeless youth report substance use disorders.

In light of these statistics it isn't surprising that Outreach clients are often bitter and disillusioned. Because of their condition - homeless, jobless, turned away, overlooked, and terrified - trust does not come easily. Yet through the staff and volunteers of Outreach these kids and their needs are not overlooked. A help line is available to them 24 hours a day. The drop-in facility offers washer/dryer facilities, hot showers, warm clothing, food, and most importantly, a sense of belonging.

Outreach journeys with homeless and runaway kids through offering mentoring, GED training, job assistance, permanent housing, and other services. The journey is about finding hope and sharing the love of Christ. "We stake our reputation on these kids every day," Howard emphasized. "They don't want to be dirty, lost, dealing or trading sex for a place to sleep or food to eat. But until they're shown a way out this is the only way they know. We're here shining the light of Christ and offering a home in Him."

"In our society we associate 'a home' with a physical address. But what we forget is that on this earth, none of us is really at home. And we never will be home until we are found in Christ. Yes we meet physical needs but if that were all we did it wouldn't matter. We represent Jesus through being available day and night. We do it through offering acceptance, not judgement. Through seeing past the circumstance to the real person created by Christ."

Outreach is a donor supported ministry that would not exist without individuals like you and me banding together to championing its cause: providing help, hope, and a reason to live to homeless and at risk youth. In order to reach more kids and provide quality services they need our help.
And what they're asking is radically easy to provide.

Today you can help Outreach, Inc. for $10 a month for 24 months. Let that sink in while you consider this: Would you be willing to sacrifice 2 cups of overpriced coffee a month to give Jesus something to eat? Could you let go of 2 value meals a month if it meant Jesus didn't have to wake up with frost on his clothes? When you sacrifice for the sake of an at risk youth, helping Jesus is exactly what you're doing.

To middle-class Americans $10 can run through our fingers like sand, forgotten before it even slips away. Let's collect those lost dollars for the sake of finding a lost child of Christ. Follow this link to the Outreach website and find out how you can help. Because of what I've learned in writing this I'm putting $20 a month toward the cause. I'm giving up NetFlix and not looking back.

Consider. Pray. Sacrifice. All for the sake of Christ. Imagine how beautiful he looks on the face of a homeless teenager, one of the least of these.

If you have questions or desire to establish a homeless ministry in your area contact Eric Howard at: info@outreachindiana.org

Today, how will you make the world a better place for some of the least of these? Leave your comment, or encouragement for Outreach's ministry, here.

2009-01-21T02:55:00.000-08:00

Contest loot and winners will be announced Thursday. Until then, what relationship topics would you like SFL to cover in February?

Another Shameful Giveaway (or February's Theme)

2009-01-20T03:00:00.000-08:00

I have a confession: I used to talk about sex every day. In fact, I was so good at it I used to get paid. It's true. Back before I had kids I did some crazy things, the craziest of all was being a sex ed. teacher.

For four years I taught a curriculum based on abstinence until marriage to thousands of kids in Phoenix, AZ. The beauty of the program was that it was built on Biblical principles and taught in the public school system. (Abstinence? In the public schools? Yes, I'm completely serious.) Part of the sass you have come to know as SFL is a direct result of that experience.

That's right, I walked the campuses of many public schools, teaching and making relationships with lots of kids. And when they couldn't remember my name but wanted to talk to me? They'd yell, "Hey! SEX LADY!" as they ran toward me from across the campus. God bless 'em.

It seems pretty natural that I should have a blog read by 19 whole people every day, strangers no less. I've always thought that if I could stand in front of 70 teenagers and openly dialogue about STDs I could probably talk to anybody about anything. So far that theory has held up.

But we're going to test it right here at Stacy From Louisville.

Put your boots on kids, we're going for a crazy ride. For the month of February we're going to talk about dating, marriage, relationships, and if the topic of sex creeps up we might address that, too. As you can imagine I'm really passionate about this topic. Yes I was trained to be an expert on relational issues (or, a "sexpert" as the kids used to say), yet that doesn't mean I have all the answers.

You know how there are like 15 million books out there about dating and marriage, written by people who say they've been there? I've read some of those books. To me, they're out of touch. (Or living in a compound wearing comfortable shoes.) No, not all of them, silly. Only 86.7% of them. And SFL won't go down that way. So it will be straight talk with no holds barred.

I'll be the first to tell you I won't have all the answers. Nobody does. But I've got some opinions I've gathered from the trenches of my own mistakes. We'll laugh, cry and maybe start an argument or two. Ah, there's nothing like the smell of controversy in the morning.

But none of this is any good if what I talk about doesn't apply to you. I need to hear from you. Given the direction we're headed, what do you want to talk about? What topics mean the most to you? Where do you think the church gets dating, marriage, and relationships mixed up? If you could hear anyone shoot straight about one issue what would it be?

By commenting on any of the above questions you automatically enter yourself in a fantastic giveaway. If you're new to SFL this will be a real treat. Tomorrow I'll show you what you could win but here's the skinny - it. is. unbelievable. To quote my daughter when she saw it, "No way Mommy!"

So answer a question already. That way, we both win. (See how I tied that all together? Who needs the next great American novel when you've got me? Don't answer.)

A Sister Is a Best Friend Who Won't Go Away

2009-01-19T03:00:00.000-08:00

I was 15 months old when my sister, Lisa, came into the world. My instincts tell me I was not excited about the gift of a sister. She was less than two weeks old when my mom put her in a bassinet for a nap. The bassinet was lovely, skirted in white ruffles, mounted on wheels and approximately 24 inches from the ground. My mom only turned her back for a moment, just long enough for me to push the bassinet and my sister out of her room, down the hall, and into the living room, where I pushed it over will all my might. My sister flew into the air, but she was okay; the glass corner of the coffee table broke her fall. From there she was taken right back to the hospital she came from - for stitches across her left eyebrow. Imagine my toddlerhood disappointment when she came back. Today when my mom tells this story she is still horrified. My sister and I, however, don't remember it, which seems like such a shame.

That's right. I've got a sister. Compared to me she's 14% funnier but 31% less insane.

When I told her I was going to write about her to celebrate her birthday she said she didn't care. When I asked if I could use pictures she immediately ask, "Can you swear to me that I will look thinner than you in all of them?" I said yes. Of course I lied, but don't blame me. She should know better than to trust me.

This is us. She is 3 and I am 4. Aren't we cute? This picture is proof that at one point in our lives we could rock the short shorts. Doesn't she look happy? You would be too if I was your sister. Trust me. Oh, look! I'm telling her a secret! Let's listen in: "You better give me your cookie. We've still got that bassinet. Don't make me hurt you."

When we moved into a larger house I was 6 and she was 5. In the basement was a laundry room. That's where she actually agreed to let me put her in the dryer and turn it on. I didn't close the door though because that would have been mean. I just turned the dryer on and watched her spin around. After about 1.3 revolutions she decided it wasn't such a good idea. I never remember thinking it wasn't a good idea. Even to this day.

This is a picture of us the day I graduated from high school. My mom said, "Smile like you really like each other." That's when she jumped up on me. Not many things in my life are idyllic. But I could not have picked a better sister. We are friends, which means when we fall we will help each other up. But we are also sisters, meaning that we have to point and laugh before helping the other one up. That's just how we roll.

She was the maid of honor at my wedding. Before I got married I told her that if she was going to stand up with me I always wanted her to tell me the truth, no matter what. So about 5 years ago, when Dan and I hit a very low point, I called her. She lived 2 hours north of me. I told her I was coming to her house to spend the night because Dan and I were arguing. She said, "You can come over. We can pray together. But you can't spend the night. You belong with your husband, not here." That is when she moved from best friend status to once-in-a-lifetime friend status. She told me the truth, I didn't like it, but today I'm still married and pretty happy about it, too.

A best friend, whether a sister or not, isn't afraid to hurt your feelings; making someone happy isn't always in their best interest. But that's another post for another day.

So, Lisa, in honor of your birthday I'd like to sing you one of your favorite songs. Better yet, why don't I let these guys sing it for me? I love you!!

What about you? Tell me about your family.

2009-01-18T20:55:00.000-08:00

I'm so super famous. Come see me on The Underfold.

The Homeless

2009-01-14T06:11:00.000-08:00

The weather is freezing in Louisville so I can't imagine how frigid it is north of here. While there are shelters for the homeless they can't accommodate everyone in need. Many are turned away to find solace in abandoned buildings, beneath overpasses, in crack houses and worse. Hypothermia and death are scary possibilities. Please join me in praying for these invisible, hurting people who are in real danger. And thank God for the organizatoins who open their doors to serve them every day.

For the least of these,
Stacy

Stacy From Louisville Bible College Personal Evangelism Course

2009-01-14T03:30:00.000-08:00

Like most students who go to Bible college my first year was bogged down by core curriculum. My first class was about the college rules. (I'm not kidding.) There was also English Lit., How To Marry A Pastor, Spanish, and Why People Who Are Tattooed Are Never To Be Trusted. It wasn't until my junior year that I hit the hardcore classes. I took a missions class and learned about clothing the natives in Africa. There was a youth ministry class that scrutinized proper harmony to "It Only Takes A Spark" and gave advice on what to do when you realized your degree was outdated by the middle of your senior year.

My favorite class by far was a personal evangelism course. But, today, instead of telling you about the class I'd like to show you the Stacy From Louisville Bible College version of what I learned. I guarantee what you are about to see will improve your personal witnessing skills by nearly 34%. And that's significant, or my name's not Stacy From Louisville.

Please save all your questions and comments until the teaching clip is completed. Watch carefully! There may be a quiz. Or a chance to come forward.

Now, what did you learn today? Be sure to let me know...

For The Least Of These

2009-01-13T03:00:00.000-08:00

"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'

"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' Matthew 25:34-40

I can remember lots of times in my life when I've cried. Moments of salty, wet, emotional release spilling down my cheeks in rapid succession. Yet for all the pain I felt at those times I can barely remember the core of my pain. Most of the situations have resolved themselves or become less painful with the passing of time.

In that vein, God has prompted me to do some serious thinking in one particular area of my life. What it all comes down to is this:

Has there ever been a time when grief washed over me simply because someone didn't know Christ? Essentially, when was the last time I wept for the lost?

I'm not talking about people halfway around the world, though certainly they matter too. I'm talking about people like my next door neighbor. Or, the nurse who takes my kids' vitals when they visit the doctor. The clerk at Wal-greens, the stranger in line with me at the bank, the parents of my daughter's classmates. But that's just my neighborhood.

What about those who are seemingly invisible? The single mom across town who can't make ends meet. A runaway teenager who will sleep beneath an overpass tonight. Or even the college student whose faith couldn't withstand the pressure of life on his own. The depressed man who lost his job and can't bring himself to tell his wife.

Is there anything in my life that would prove that I give a damn about any of the people I just mentioned?

The cursor flashes, waiting for my answer. Waiting for the truth.

For the most part my answer is no. Lately I've locked myself inside a Christian bubble. I've watched TV instead of prayed. I've thrown out clothes instead of donate them. I've eaten out instead of donating that same amount of money to a food pantry. And worst of all, I've hidden behind the guise of "busy" to excuse my lackadaisical use of the gifts God has given me.

I've been idle in the worst way, fat and happy in the bounty of God's grace.

Meanwhile, the city of Louisville hums. People of all ages, races and socioeconomic profile slip into the chaos of life as usual. And I, along with them, adjust my blinders and throw myself into the mix.

It hasn't always been this way for me. God's telling me He's ready for me to rediscover my love for the lost. And I'm taking you with me on the journey.

From time to time, starting next week I will begin profiling grassroots ministry organizations that are rooted in my highest traffic cities. Together we will explore the ins and outs of taking the Gospel to what Jesus called "the least of these." Together with these ministries you'll be given opportunities to pray for and partner with their mission: taking Jesus Christ to a lost world.

In the meantime I could use your help. Tell me about the ministries in your area that are taking the Good News to others. I'll add the organizations to my list and we'll profile as many of them as possible. I'm looking forward to this journey. I'd love to know what you think, too.

Looking For Blog Fodder

2009-01-12T09:17:00.000-08:00

Recently several of you have sent me videos or blog topics that are hysterical. Keep 'em coming. I love to hear what you think is funny, compelling, thought provoking, and sass worthy. In essence I'm looking for blog fodder. Any topics you'd like to see me address? I love Christian and church related topics. But I also like real life issues, too. So think about it and leave me a comment....

You guys are awesome!

The Boxer Briefs: Three True Stories About Underwear

2009-01-12T03:00:00.000-08:00

The Most Hideous Thing My Mom Almost Said

Sometimes I choose to lie to myself because the truth is too much for me to handle. This is especially true when it comes to my parents. For years I was satisfied with the notion that my parents were in a platonic relationship. I was okay with assuming my sister and I just somehow materialized from thin air into our parents' home. Essentially, I reasoned, they had no reason to even hug other than for an occasional family photo. So imagine my shock when one day I was walking through the mall with my mother. We passed Victoria's Secret and in disgust I said to my mom, "I think thong underwear is so tacky." My mom shrugged and said, "Oh, I don't mind it. I just bought some for your father. He wears them to bed at night." As vomit shot up my esophagus like a broken sprinkler head I yelled, "SICK! OH! SICK! Mom, shut up!" She looked at me like I was crazy, "What? What's wrong?" With my gag reflex fully engaged I managed to choke out, "DAD? You bought THONG underwear for Dad?!" Horrified, my mother said, "LONG underwear! I bought LONG underwear for your father!" Our eyes locked, assessing the weight of the misunderstanding. Though I can't prove it I think I heard her gag a little, too. Somehow that made me feel even better.

Dan Meets My Parents

A few years later I was dating Dan, who is now the lucky, lucky man I call my husband. He was meeting my parents for the first time. He was staying in the guest room in our basement. We were talking about our folks and embarrassing moments. I told him about an incident that happened when I was about 7 years old. My sister and I had been at our grandmother's home that evening until very late. When my sister and I walked in the door of our house there was a Polaroid photo on the banister. I picked it up and looked. It was a photo of my mother. She looked very pretty....posed by the stairs....wearing something black, lacy and slightly see through. My dad whipped that photo from my had so quick I nearly fell off the stairs. I relayed to Dan that all that registered with me at the time was that my mom looked pretty, but now, 14 years later I had a better understanding of....well, you know. Anyway, the next day Dan and I were going through some books in my folk's basement. We flipped through them until Dan said, "Remember that story you told me about the Polaroid?" I nodded. "Did it look anything like this?" he asked, pulling a photo of my mom from the back of an old book. OH MY GOSH! THERE SHE WAS! Scantly clad with big 80s hair and some seductive look in her eyes. AND MY BOYFRIEND FOUND IT!!!! Puke! Gross! But hysterical. We were set to leave that day and my parents were not home. So, I took the picture and gingerly carried it to the master bathroom. I taped it in the center of the mirror. Then I took lipstick and wrote on the mirror, in my best script, "Peek-A-Boo! Is this YOU?" When I returned to college that day there was a message on my machine. It was my mom. She said, "If you two ever get married I'm giving you this picture as a gift." (This June we will celebrate our 10th anniversary. Without the Polaroid.)

Stacy Meets Dan's Parents

Dan's folks live in Florida. Though I had meet them before I had never been at their home. So, during my junior year of college Dan invites me to spend a 3 day weekend with him at his parent's home. I really liked Dan so I was on my best behavior around his folks. Sure they knew I had a sense of humor. But we all know, a sense of humor is one thing, insanity is quite another. So, Dan, his mom and I were at one end of the house. I needed to go to the bathroom but it was occupied. Dan's mom said, "Use the master bath. Knock before you go in our room because Dan's dad is changing." So I proceeded to walk the length of the house to the master bedroom. I knocked on the door. "Come on in!" said the voice from behind the door. So I opened the door....quickly drew in my breath....and made eye contact with Dan's dad....standing across the room in nothing but his briefs. After I threw my hands up to cover my eyes I froze. And started laughing. I didn't even turn around and leave, I didn't know what to do. "I just...(laughing)...I have to....(laughing)....your wife said to knock....(laughing)....I REALLY HAVE TO PEE!" He was laughing too, "Well then go ahead!" I was totally embarrassed and feeling really awkward. I shut and locked the bathroom door. But there was something else they forgot to tell me: the door lock catches so don't lock it or they'd have to take the door off the hinges. Which is exactly what they did after hearing me knock on the door and yell for help from the opposite side of the house.

So now you know more about me than you ever wanted to. And then some.

Last week, between facebook and this site we managed to come up with 50 comments about vomit. Surely we can do just as well if not better on the topic of underwear. So what about you? Got an underwear story you're dying to share? Then by all means, please do.

Grieving Mark Lamberth

2009-01-08T20:05:00.000-08:00

Today, January 8, Mark Lamberth has gone home to be with the Lord. He leaves behind his young wife Angie, and their son, Nolan.

It seems foreign to feel tears slip from my eyes as I write to you. So often it's quite the opposite. But I'm grieving with a family I love even though I may never meet them until eternity.

Even stranger would be the contradiction that I am smiling as I cry. Heaven is our hope in Christ. Today Mark's hope is fulfilled and that's why I can do this crazy cry and smile thing. Our faith is a paradox, isn't it?

As a wife and mother I cannot fathom Angie and Nolan's pain. Angie has said she already feels so lonely. Some might say, "All we can do is pray." But, friends, that strips the Lord of His power. We get to pray, and in that we get to experience Him and commune with Him as we lift up this precious family.

Have you ever wondered why we don't receive our heavenly reward upon our death? Why we have to wait until Christ returns? It's because of the ripple effect. Every time we move and speak and act as Jesus did that blessing goes on and on and on. The full measure of it can't be weighed until earthly time ends and we reign with him. In essence, the goodness of Christ outlives our earthly bodies, a domino effect of heaped blessing on others.

From all I've read Mark really loved the Lord. So it is only fitting that this post has nothing to do with me; it's all about the legacy of faith that out lives Mark. Visit their blog to see how people all over the world are being moved by this story. And if you offer up a prayer on behalf of this family that ripple has washed over you, too.

For Angie...

The Invisible Rope

2009-01-06T03:00:00.000-08:00

My son has the flu. For the last 24 hours I have nicknamed him "Sir Chucks-a-lot". He doesn't seem to mind. In spite of this I managed to make a lovely dinner for the family. AND! I even mustered the strength to pack leftovers into a suitable lunch for Dan. In a pink Hello Kitty plastic container. I wish I could say that's all we had available but I'd be lying. Speaking of lying...

I was, in fact, lying last night when I pretended not to hear my daughter come scrambling into the room at 1 a.m. yelling, "I hear throw ups!" After all she did tell Dan so who am I to interrupt their daddy-daughter time?

Folks, I just don't do puke. Or blood. Or make lunches in appropriate containers for CPAs who may or may not have a working lunch meeting today. What can I say? I have a blog to manage. That's enough pressure for anyone.

Yes, I realize there are other blogs out there you could be visiting right now. Some debate political policy. Others call for an end to suffering. Still others spur us on to greatness. But at SFL I'll settle for bribing any one of you to watch my kids so I can have a cigarette break. Not that I smoke, because I don't. But if it means you'll leave a funny comment on my blog I might purchase some Virginia Slims in your honor.

In the meantime, watch this. It's the kind of stuff I live for. Enjoy!

And if you haven't done so already, come join me on Facebook. (Stacy A. Small)

Read the comments! Dan responded! Start with "bman" then read through the rest of the comments until you reach my response to Dan.

SFL State Of The Union Address

2009-01-05T03:00:00.000-08:00

My fellow Stacy From Louisvillians,

Back in August I started SFL with two questions in mind. The questions were as follows:

1) Could I maintain a blog?

2) And if I could, would it be successful?

Well, kids, here we are starting the 6th month of Stacy From Louisville and those questions have been answered loud and clear. For some crazy reason there are plenty of you out there who apparently weren't getting your recommended daily allowance of sarcasm before I showed up. I find that tragic. In my mind I imagine you sitting behind a glaring computer screen contemplating doing something meaningful with your life. You nearly pined away, your mind reeling, "If only I could waste more of my employer's time or ignore my children for 10 more minutes!" I won't go as far as to say God answered your prayer but I will say God shows his love in the most unexpected ways. (Oh, if I could wink at you right now you know I would.)

Truth be told I've loved every minute of making you laugh. Your comments are fun to read. I've loved our contests - we've taken "free", "tacky", and "classless crap" to a whole new low. Oh yes, my mother is so very proud. Thank you for making the last 6 months an absolute blast. Thank you for commenting and for coming back time and again. This site would be nothing without you.

I'd like to update you on one story that's still being written: my grandmother's. As you may remember she had a heart attack a couple of months back. Not long after the heart attack she fell and broke her tailbone and got double lung phenomena. Currently she's in a nursing home. Mentally she's sharp as a tack but her body continues to deteriorate. Her blood pressure drops dangerously low without warning. She is in constant pain. In essence she's dying very slowly and we have been told there is nothing else that can be done for her. But because she is a believer I do not grieve as one without hope. When she leaves this life she will go from being in His hands to being in His presence. In the meantime, we pray. Thank you to all of you who still ask about her. Really, it means more than you know.

So here we are at 2009. I got me one big ol' bad-sass spatula to help spread internets love. It will be a blogtastical carnival of dizzying proportion. (Heads will whirl. Some might even puke.) But first I want to hear from you.

Take a second and consider your answer to these questions:

When you read a blog what are you looking for? And, in your opinion, what could I do to make the most of SFL?

Your opinion matters to me. So satisfy my curiosity and answer the questions already. (Please remember to leave all questions in the form of a compliment.)

Today especially I'm looking forward to hearing from you...