The Best of 2009

This time last year I felt the big 4-0 breathing down my neck. What is it about that number that strikes fear into the hearts of millions? I'll admit I was no different. 40 makes you take a long glance behind you and wonder what you've accomplished. So as I began the new year I did what I always do. I resolved to do better. And since half my life was behind me I figured there was no time to waste.

I wanted my 40th year to be a year full of meaningful moments. I wanted to take advantage of each experience God handed me and come away with something to give away. I wanted to spend more time listening to God than giving Him my list of requests. I wanted to pray more for others than for myself. I wanted to love my friends and family more deliberately. I wanted to make a concerted effort to take care of myself even if it meant I had to...gasp...exercise.

So, now the big 4-1 is fast approaching with the new year and I'm glancing back again. What do I see? I'm not sure I've done as well with all of it as I should have, but I do know I'm confident I've made some big improvements.

In order to take inventory as I have in years past, I've spent the last few days pouring over the pictures I've taken in the last 12 months and reading the blog posts I've written to prepare for this year-end summary and I think I can sum up 2009 with one word.

Surprises. Up until now I've not been a big fan. But I think I've changed my mind.

2009 started with 2 separate and equally amazing surprise birthday parties. I had an incredible college reunion with old friends who surprised me by how much they hadn't changed. There were, of course, the looks of surprise on The Ocho's face that gave me unspeakable joy. Like when she found out about The Jonas Brother's concert. And when she saw Glinda descend from the sky in "Wicked". And when she fed the swans in Florida.

I surprised myself by reading more and watching TV less. I surprised my friends by becoming more Facebook friendly. And I surprised everyone when I committed to the 30 day shred and completed it. (I'm still doing it by the way. I've lost 14 pounds so far. Yay Me.)

There was also the surprise of some friends traveling to Africa that eventually introduced me to a little girl named Mary.

And there was the sweetest surprise of a small rainbow in the sky on a cloudless day in November.

Perhaps the biggest surprise of all is that 40 turned out to be the best year of my life so far.

When I look back at 2009 here's what I'll remember: My Peeps wearing boas and singing "You Write The Songs". The Silver Platters and a serenade by Davy Jones. Selah's 80's skating party and Handiman's spot-on Flock of Seagulls hairdo. Walking along the beach at sunset with my Mom and daughter. J-Day with Flat Tasha. Getting a hug from Dr. Wilson. The RC Cola and a Moonpie Festival. My last children's musical as a teacher. The Ocho's first piano recital. Dancing and screaming like a lunatic for the JoBros. Being moved to tears during "Wicked" while watching Elphaba fly during "Defying Gravity". Kit Kittredge and The American Girl Store experience. The bling-bling posse. Ocho mowing the lawn. Taylor's sweet 16 and all the baby peeps in a row. Being on the lake with my girlfriends and Big Nanny's blue hair clip. Jim's 80th birthday party. Leading music in chapel. The big church hunt. The masquerade ball and a big slice of brie. The father/daughter dance. Charlie Brown Ice. Tammy The Christmas Sweater Lady. And finally, my snuggie.

When I blew out my birthday candles in January I wished for a good year. I would have never even thought to wish for as much goodness as I received.

"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." Ephesians 4:20

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Bring it on 2010. But I'm warning you. You've got big shoes to fill.

Got a minute?

If you find some time today, please say a prayer for these 5 wonderful people: Tabby, Alicia, Jesse, Angela & Sumer.

They're on their way right now to Africa. They've all got families they've left behind. They've all got fears and anxiousness. And they've all got a heart for Jesus.

While you're at it, pray for the orphans they'll hold. And the people they'll feed. I can't even let my mind imagine the despair they'll encounter. But I can rejoice in the hope they are taking with them to share.

"Defend the cause of the weak and fatherless; maintain the rights of the poor and oppressed. Rescue the weak and needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked." Psalm 82:3-4

Settling Down

I've been working on this post in my head for days but I cant' get my thoughts to settle down.

First I want to talk about what an overwhelmingly wonderful Christmas we had here at the Wood house. Amazing food, sweet time with family, laughing and crying. And the presents. Don't even get me started on the presents.

Santa brought us a Wii and I'm officially addicted. I also need to ice my shoulder from all the tennis and bowling. That's no joke. I really do need to ice my shoulder. But when it starts hurting too terribly bad I take a break and pop in the game that RubyDooby gave us: Disney Sing It. I promise you've never heard the Jonas Brother's "Lovebug" until you've heard my version. And The Ocho can rock some Demi Lovato. Handiman has yet to partake but I'm sure it's only a matter of time.

Another favorite gift was my Snuggie. From what I can tell on Facebook 98% of the population got a Snuggie for Christmas. I hope their's are living up to expectation. Mine certainly is. I'm able to sit on the couch wrapped in warmth and comfort until it's my turn to bowl. Then without removing it I throw my signature shot and boom..... "Strike!" Then I return to the couch still wrapped in warmth and comfort.

I must say, though, that my gift from Handiman was my favorite. This year he was able to not only take me completely by surprise but move me to tears with his thoughtfulness and generosity. You probably think I'm being sarcastic and there's a punch line coming because, well, usually I am and there is. But not today.

He's arranged for someone to come and clean our house twice a month! I seriously cried for 5 minutes after I opened the card. Of course, it comes with the stipulation that if I ever quit working full-time, the cleaning lady goes away. And I don't have a problem with that. Because just the thought of not having to dust, mop and vacuum on the weekends fills my heart with immeasurable joy.

So, as you can see I wasn't lying. This Christmas brought abundant blessings. The greatest was celebrating our Savior's birth and all that His coming to earth has meant to our family.

But in the midst of it all I kept finding my mind wandering. Towards a friend who was remembering the birth of her son on Christmas day 4 years ago. The son she had prayed for years to have and only held for an hour or so on this earth.

Then I thought about a group of friends preparing in a few days to leave their families and all the comforts and riches of this country to travel to Africa so they can be the hands and feet of Jesus to the poorest on our planet.

And just yesterday I learned that a close friend's father unexpectedly went to be with Jesus early Sunday morning. And I stomped my foot in anger at God for doing that at Christmastime.

But He knows best. And I know that. Because that's what Christmas is all about. Without it, I might still have a snuggie and cleaning lady but Elisha and Sam wouldn't have the home they have today and those orphans wouldn't have a chance. I think I'll settle my thoughts right there.

Gifts of Christmas Past

Last night our family set out on our annual Christmas lights tour. It is tradition to put on our Santa hats and turn up our favorite holiday tunes as we drive around and marvel at the spectacle of lawn decorations. As we drive we usually talk about Christmases gone by. Usually, just Handiman and I share stories as The Ocho listens and laughs as if she's never heard them before. But this year she was excited to share her own memories. Since she's got 10 Christmases under her belt, she has a few now to choose from. She sweetly talked about receiving her Barbie dreamhouse from Santa. Then she made us all dissolve in laughter by recounting the year she inexplicably fell out of her chair at the kitchen table while decorating Christmas cookies. One second she was there. The next second she was gone.

Over the years I've thought about how blessed she is with great Christmas memories. She's always been surrounded by family and friends in every direction. She's never woken up on Christmas morning and not found exactly what she requested from The Big Guy. Each year she's received more love, more presents, more candy and more Christmas cheer than some kids know in a lifetime. And somehow I tend to think she's got it better than I ever did. But that's not exactly true.

As I was looking through pictures of Christmases past I discovered I had it pretty good too. Sure, her dad is better than my dad was. And her mom doesn't work nearly as hard or sacrifice nearly as much as mine did. But I never woke up on Christmas morning disappointed.

Exhibit A:

Just look at this haul. I spy books, a tea set, a Barbie, a baby doll and a baby buggy. Not to mention a swell record player.

Exhibit B:

A tricycle and a rocking horse? Score!

Exhibit C:
The Barbie Dreamhouse. Enough said.

Exhibit D:
One of my favorite gifts ever. My musical jewelry box.

And it might seem random but I do consider one of my best Christmas gifts ever to be the year my 6th grade teacher realized my promise as an actress and cast me as Mary in our production of "The Little Drummer Boy":

Basically I just stood there until the choir of angels (and shepherds) sand "Mary nodded...pa-rum-pa-pum-pum". Then, I nodded. With conviction. (I should also point out for comedy's sake that Joseph was played by a little boy named Joe T. Ingram. He had the filthiest mouth at Edgewood Elementary. I'm pretty sure he introduced me to the first curse words I ever heard. And the little drummer boy was played by a boy named Jimmy Carter, during the Carter administration no less.)

As it turns out Christmas has always been a time of blessing in my life. Of course, I had to wait 31 years to find the best gift under my tree:
Our family would like to wish each and every one the merriest of Christmases. We hope you find everything you've wished for under your tree. We hope you laugh until you cry and eat until you're stuffed. But mostly we hope that you remember the greatest gift of all.

Jesus. His name shall be called Jesus.

Merry Christmas!

Peeps in PJs taking Pictures

Friday night I played hostess for our annual Christmas party with our Peeps. It has been a time-honored tradition that we meet together the Friday night before Christmas for dinner, a pre-planned activity and a round of Dirty Santa. This year I brought back an old favorite: Breakfast for Dinner and Christmas Pajamas. The activity was a little different though. I decided we'd take to the streets for a photo scavenger hunt. I knew it would be risky sending this crowd out in public dressed in pajamas but a life without risks is not a life well-lived.

This one took a lot of advanced planning and careful thought. First I knew I had to form teams that didn't include spouses or certain competitive personalities. Then I had to come up with a list of things to do that would be fun, challenging and somewhat embarrassing without getting anybody arrested. It all came together nicely and I must give props to everyone for being so willing to put themselves out there.

These people were in it to win it.

Team One consisted of Robyn, Handiman, Trisha, KJ & JT. It's always dangerous putting Handiman & Robyn together. They act alot like brother and sister. They fight. They call each other names. They fight again. And they try desperately to beat out the other one when competition is involved, thus the reason I put them on the same team. From what I've heard the fighting and name-calling were out in full force anyway.

While most of the items on each list were different, 2 things were the same. The first was that every team had to sing a Christmas Carol at somebody's house. My apologies to our peep Ashley who couldn't make the party. Since she was home, 2 teams decided to carol her house and Handiman's was one of them:

While they were there, they decided to make use of her bathtub to check off another task:

Team 2 was made up of Big Nanny, Eric, Nicole, Rob & CoolShellyT. Not only did they also carol at Ashley's, but they sang the same song! Again, sorry Ash.

And here they are trying on shoes at Kohl's.
Team 3 was Me, Steve, Andrea, Brian & Tracey. We were the renegades. We actually tried to carol at a stranger's house (not my idea, by the way). Once he politely told us to get lost, we headed for an old neighbor of Steve's. Thankfully, she was way more receptive. From there we headed to Target to try on hats:

And to Sonic for a little trip down the slide:

The biggest laugh of the night came when all the teams met back at our house to compare pictures and tally up our points. That's when we discovered the Great Christmas Irony of '09. Allow me to explain.

Besides caroling, the only other identical item that each team had to complete was taking a picture with a complete stranger wearing a Christmas sweater. Our team found ours at Target in the bedding department. Her name was Tammy.

Once were were back home comparing stories we discovered something unbelievable. Moments before we arrived at Target Big Nanny's team was there. And they snapped this photo:

I mean, seriously, what are the odds? Poor Tammy. She was attacked twice in the span of about 10 minutes by two different groups of deranged strangers wearing pajamas. And she never once complained. I heart Tammy the Christmas Sweater Lady. She will forever be one of my favorite Christmas memories.

Once we reviewed all the pictures and tallied up the points, Team 1 was named the winner. But really, we were all winners. We will carry with us forever the memories of Eric mowing down a little child in Books-a-Million and Steve trying to convince the employees of a fast food restaurant to allow us behind the register to snap a photo by touting his position as Administrator of a well-respected business in the community, all while wearing that ridiculous Jingle Bell Hat. And then there was Handiman laying in Ashley's driveway and curving himself the wrong direction while trying be the letter "C" in the word CAT. Nicely done.

As usual, I will not be sharing the details of our Dirty Santa game. What happens in the Wood bonus room stays in the Wood bonus room. I will tell you that the most sought after items of the night included a rapping snowman, a talking toilet and a thigh master. That's all your gettin'.

If it's true that pictures don't lie then my friends and I are still 16 years old and completely out of our ever-lovin' minds. Merry Christmas Peeps!

Meeting Mary

I've been nursing a cold for a few days now and I've made it no secret to anyone coming in contact with me that I am miserable. I've also spent my entire Saturday cleaning in preparation for a long week full of Christmas activities. So on top of being sick, exhausted and covered in dust I had to venture out into the freezing cold to take the dog out. I decided to kill two birds with one stone and get the mail. When I saw the return address label I suddenly didn't care how cold it was or how sick and dirty I was. I was about to meet her.

Today our highly anticipated letter from Amazima Ministries arrived. We applied for sponsorship a few months ago and prayed we find out about the little girl before Christmas. Prayer answered.

The information sheet says her name is Nabukeera. They have given her the English name Mary. She is 8 years old and lives with her Grandfather in a house made of bricks, mud and a tin roof. They are about 2 miles from the nearest water source and their main source of income is digging for food.

Mary's being treated for Malaria. Her favorite subject is English and her favorite pastime is "sweeping the compound."

And that put everything back into perspective for me.

I was a little disappointed there was no picture included until I found this behind her profile report:

It's going on the fridge right next to The Ocho's drawings as a reminder to me. I have a cold but Mary has Malaria. I have a dirty house but Mary's house is made of mud. If she can find joy in sweeping the compound, maybe I should too.

**They promise a photo is coming soon. I'll post it as soon as I get it.

Survivor: Opryland

I've never followed the show "Survivor" very closely. I think I watched 2 or 3 episodes in the first season. I do remember a really angry lady giving a speech about a rat. Anyway, I think I understand the basic concept.

A group of people willingly volunteer to be dropped in a harsh, remote location so they can be tortured and "challenged". Then they pick each other off one by one until somebody is the ultimate survivor who goes on to fame, fortune and federal prison. Or something like that.

This past weekend I'm pretty sure I proved to myself I could be a contender.

First, I suggested to my family that it would be fun to visit Opryland on the first Saturday of December. The lights! The decorations! The music! It would certainly be a magical, fun-filled time and give us Christmas memories to hold for years to come. So, Handiman, The Ocho & I headed to that remote location filled with rugged terrain called Opryland.

First challenge: Parking.

If you know anything about visiting the Opryland Hotel you know that it's free. There's no admission price to stroll through the hotel and gaze at the spectacle because the folks at Gaylord are so generous and filled with holiday spirit. There is however, a small parking fee. And by small I mean $14.00. Yeah, there was no way Handiman was going to pay $14.00 to park. So we took Ms. Cheap's advice and decided to park at Opry Mills. But so did everybody else in the greater Metropolitan area. We knew we were in trouble when traffic stopped right at the exit from the interstate. After about 10 minutes we made it to the parking lot. Then we spent another 25 minutes driving around. And around. And around. Because as it turns out all 95 bazillion parking spaces were taken. But The Wood family was not deterred. Wait, I take that back. The Ocho was deterred. After about 15 minutes she started that whiny child groan "We're neeeevvverrrr going to paaaaaarkkkkkkk. I'm going to diiieeeeeeee in this caaaaaarrrrrrrr." She was met with no mercy and lots of laughter. Just then, mere seconds before she would have certainly met her untimely demise, we tasted victory. Not only did we spot a patron backing out of a space but it was actually close to an entrance.



Next challenge: Hiking.

Once inside the mall we realized our ultimate destination was on the opposite side. Of course. If you've ever visited Opry Mills you know that calculates to approximately 2000 miles away. Then you should figure in the 1.5 million shoppers we had to navigate through before we reached the door. We finally reached our destination, the Charlie Brown Ice exhibit, only to find there was a 25 minute wait. Outside. In the 40 degree weather. So there we were, exhausted and cold, breathing in second hand smoke from all our fellow line-dwellers who just had to get their fix before they reached the entrance. Finally we were given our shiny blue parkas and allowed through the door.



Next challenge: Frigid temperatures and dangerous terrain.

You think you know how cold it's going to be. I mean it's 2 million pounds of ice sculpture. Obviously they have to keep it pretty chilly. But seriously? When I tell you it was freezing please believe me. And I had on layers of clothing. There were men walking around without coats and gloves. One guy didn't even wear the free parka. I believe the scientific word for him is Idiot. The exhibit itself was impressive and very nostalgic. They had every scene from "A Charlie Brown Christmas" sculpted and laid out in sequence. And at the end there was the most beautiful Nativity scene I have ever laid eyes on. But honestly my appendages were throbbing so much and my face was so near frostbitten I couldn't adequately appreciate it. I just wanted OUT.



Next challenge: Finding food

We walked out of the Ice exhibit and back into the oddly refreshing 40 degree weather. Then we hiked over to the Opryland Hotel where our intention was to grab some dinner and show the Ocho the grandiose Christmas lights and decorations. We should have known better. I've been to that hotel dozens of times and each and every time I get lost in the maze of Delta's and Magnolia's. And it goes without saying that the 1.5 million shoppers we encountered at The Mills had obviously migrated over. We did manage to find a moderately priced burger restaurant and sat down for a nice "relaxing" meal. After regaining our strength we headed out to see the sights. There were the green and red dancing waters and the giant poinsettia trees. The millions of sparkling lights and the ginormous Christmas tree. The Ocho was highly impressed but mostly she liked the boat traveling down the "river" in the middle of the hotel, which you can see any old time.







Next challenge: Escaping

After what seemed like days but was actually only about an hour we located our exit and started on the long hike back to find our car. We encountered many senior citizens leaving The Grand Ole Opry, a long line of people still waiting to suffer death by frostbite with Charlie Brown and one drunk lady who stumbled out of the hotel shouting something about the Easter Bunny. As a family we have never been so happy to see our Camry. She was warm and cozy and provided a shelter from both the cruel elements and the crazy people. It was then all up to Handiman to get us out of the parking lot, which he did about 45 minutes later.

Was it a good idea to visit Opryland on the first weekend in December? Probably not. Will we ever do it again? Probably so. The experience left us feeling cold, cranky, tired and completely stressed out. Ah, yes. Now it feels like Christmas.

Confessions of a Church Shopper

As a woman, I'm a bit on the abnormal side. I don't like jewelry. I never wear eyeshadow. I hate wearing heels. I'm not a Twilight fan. And, I detest shopping.

I know. I'm a disgrace to my gender.

Here's what I call shopping. I realize I need something or maybe I just really, really want it. I find out where it is and how much it costs. I march into the store, I pick it out, I pay for it, and I go home. There's no browsing. No cost comparisons. I either get what I came for or I leave with nothing. End of story.

This brings us to the Wood family's dilemma of searching for a new church home. I told you 2 months ago that we were feeling led to leave the church family we'd been a part of for most of our marriage and all of The Ocho's life. It was a tough decision but one we know we needed to make. But maybe not for the reasons we had originally thought.

When we set out to find a new church we took with us all of our past experiences, both good and bad. We knew what we were looking for and we knew what we were not looking for. As with all shopping trips, I had a list of must-haves. These things weren't going to secure anybody's salvation and they're certainly not found in scripture. They're just little details that I consider important to my overall worship and serving experience.

1. I need a choir. It's who I am. It's who God made me to be. I don't need the choir to be big and flashy. I don't even need them to be good. But I do need them to exist. I'm not saying I'm anti-praise team. I hold no ill will towards the lone worship leader and his band. But, for me personally, I need a choir. And they need to at least look like they enjoy singing. This alone has presented a huge problem on our church hunt. Much to my surprise, choirs don't exist much in these parts anymore. We visited a couple of churches that had them but by my estimation I would have seriously curved the age bracket. And I'm no spring chicken.

2. We need to be needed. Now, I know what you're thinking. Between my children's choir skillz and Handiman's profound teaching abilities what church wouldn't need us? We should be a pretty hot commodity around these parts, right? Well, maybe not. First of all, Handiman likes to teach Sunday School and as it turns out, most churches don't actually have Sunday School anymore. They have Life Groups. Again, we have nothing against Life Groups but they sound a little too laid back for Handiman's Book of Gigantic Church Words. Also, they're held in people's homes on different nights of the week. We prefer Sunday morning on church property. Call us old-fashioned if you must. Had we been able to move past this, I'm sure I could have found a place to serve in children's music but see #1 as to why I was unwilling to do so.

3. We need to fit in. This one is tricky. We visited lots of different kinds of churches and even ventured outside our denomination a couple of times. We visited old churches and new churches. Small ones and medium ones. (I strongly resisted visiting any church larger than TSC because I really wanted the Ocho to experience the small church atmosphere. She wasn't a fan.) Some churches had primarily older members. Some had members that were mostly our age or younger. But no church gave us that feeling of belonging. It's not that people weren't nice or welcoming. They were in almost every circumstance, but we've been around the block. We're veteran church members. We know pretty quickly where we'll fit and where we won't.

We've had a good laugh at how easy we thought this was going to be. I mean we live in The Bible Belt for Pete's sake! How hard could it be to find a small to medium-sized Baptist congregation with an energetic choir that likes to sing both hymns and contemporary worship songs and that also has a Bible preaching, likable pastor with a children's ministry that won't frighten our shy, introverted daughter and a group of adults willing to sit under Handiman's tutelage during a Sunday morning Bible study held on church property which is within 20 minutes driving distance of our front door? I mean really, does that sound like too much to ask?

Apparently so. But the experience wasn't a total loss. One church gave us a coffee mug. One church gave us free donuts. One church sent us a sweet letter thanking us for our visit. And one church made us sit down during the welcome time in front of the whole congregation so they could stare at us and make us feel awkward.

I've spent the last two months of Sundays being the visitor and I've learned some important lessons in the process.

I've learned I wasn't always the most welcoming church member in the crowd. Now, I know how good it feels when somebody shakes your hand and tells you they're glad you're there. And how lonely it feels when they don't.

I've learned to put my circumstances aside and come into His house ready and willing to worship Him because if you've made the decision to put yourself in front of a congregation, be it in a choir, on a praise team or in a pulpit, you'd better look like you want to be there. You'd better smile. You'd better look like you love Jesus. Because a visitor might be sitting in the congregation sizing up the spirit of the church based on the joy you're projecting that particular morning.

Finally, I've learned to appreciate what a "church family" is. I thought I did before but now I really do. Just like any other family there are some relatives you don't agree with and some you don't want to sit next to at dinner. And there will always be some family traditions you could live without. But there are also those family members that make you laugh everytime you see them. Family who have your back in times of trouble and are always just a phone call away when you need them. Most days you love them all. And they love you. They're not perfect but they're your family.

In all our months of praying for direction and searching for our place to belong, last Sunday afternoon we decided maybe we'd found it, at least for now. There is one church we've attended that had a great choir. And we know there are places we are needed to serve. We knew from the minute we walked through the doors that we fit in and the people there treated us like family. They haven't stopped telling us how much they want us to come back and visit. So this Sunday we will.

I guess there really is no place like home.