Formerly Cute Capri Courthouse Nonsense.

It was the 8^th of July in the year 2014. It was a quiet, relatively uneventful morning at the courthouse. I’d go so far as to say it was a little boring. Then something historical happened and now the events of the day shall forever live in infamy. In an unfortunate, yet hilarious turn of events, I became the MVP and entered the “Shame Hall Of Fame.”

You see, I've been attempting to mend some of my evil ways and have lost some weight. So…what had happened was that I had food poisoning or something equally heinous all night and was clinging to my ceramic bowl for hours. When I had to wake up about an hour after it stopped to get ready for court, I was not rested or in any way alert. I saw my cute linen black capris, wondered why I hadn't worn them recently,  quickly put them on (thinking how cute I was going to look today) and sat down to begin the tape, floating, caulking and spackle required for this woman of a certain age to be fit for public viewing. Grabbed my cute black sandals running out the door and off to the courthouse I went, ready to advocate for children.

As soon as I got out of the car in the parking lot, I remembered the “issue” with this particular ensemble. The dry cleaner had killed the elastic waist in my cute capris and therefore it was completely stretched out. Also last time I wore those shoes they were so slippery, I slipped down the stairs in church during prayer time (coming off of singing on the Praise Team) and caused a scene. This concerned me but I have worn the capris (on accident) with the elastic stretched out and nothing happened so I wasn’t too worried. I joked with my friendly neighborhood security personnel on the way in to keep the cameras on me because it could be the day they get their money’s worth.

I sat down on the bench in the court hall to wait for court. As time progressed, all the players gathered for my case. At last, it was time to move downstairs. I stood up and…it happened!!!!!!! I could feel air!!!! All around!!!!! My pants had fallen down in the Collin County Courthouse right there between County Court 6 and District Court 417. Yup. That’s right. I am not a small woman and my derriere did not have warning enough to get in shape. I’m quickly trying to pick up my pants before my humiliation is complete. No luck. No elastic means a bunch of fabric that is not easily manageable in an emergency situation. It was a full moon type of situation.

In times like these, your mind goes into slow motion and these were my thoughts:

1    1) Well that happened.

2    2) I sure wish this were someone else’s broad behind shining to the entirety of the Halls of Justice.

3    3) I’m super glad I’m old and can laugh at myself. Turns out I’m not someone who, in the words of the great Designing Women’s Charlene, “goes down the freeway of life with the back of her dress tucked in her pantyhose. “ I am someone who goes down the freeway of life with her pants on the ground.

4    4) I sure am glad my shoes didn't slip out from under me causing me to crash my currently exposed backside to the cold hard marble and probably cause lots of sprains, strains and contusions. I could almost visualize…as I’m in midair falling…these blasted (no longer so cute) capris shooting right off of my body and down the hall like a rocket had launched them leaving me half nekkid on the floor waiting for paramedics. That would be worse.

5    5) I sure am glad I wasn't at the Children’s Advocacy Center surrounded by bunches of children. Pretty sure that would land me on “the list.”
     6) Sho am glad it's not a thong!

As I gathered my now enemy fabric, my posse instructed me to hold onto all sides! (No one wants a repeat, especially that poor fellow waiting for court who up until then was probably bored to tears. Now he’s scarred for life. Sorry potential felon. I hope that earned you “time served.”) The male attorneys (who shall remain unnamed) for some reason, chose to ride a different elevator. We made it to court but we could not stop laughing. I’m sure the judge wondered what on Earth had caused such behavior in otherwise professional people. As I was walking out of the courthouse holding onto those blasted ugly and now dead to me capris, I heard behind me, the musical stylings of two of my former friends, singing “Pants on the ground, Pants on the ground….” That folks is when I decided I need new friends.

You’ll be happy to know I did make it to my car without further incident. I got out of the car at home, and noticed my pants were on the ground again (sorry neighborhood.) SO I waddled it on inside hind quarters exposed and I kicked them right onto the doggie gate and hauled myself into my room for some real pants!

Now you may be wondering why I would ever tell this to you all. There are three reasons:

1    1) If you can’t laugh at yourself it’s a pretty sad day and more importantly…

2    2) There were witnesses. Oh so many witnesses! Some of them I just know are racing me for the story. Pretty sure it’s all over Collin County by now. You can probably find my now famous hind end on YouTube. If so, I hope I’m trending!

3    3) Last and most importantly, I knew diet and exercise could lead to no good. I knew it would ruin my good name in “the end.”

AND you’re welcome. And that MVP? It stands for “Most Visible Panties.” Bet your day is looking better isn't it?

Donna Took Up Drinking? Nonsense!

I'm going to start this post with a warning: Some of you will be horrified at me after you read this saga. You will be so disturbed by the ways I treated your best friend that you won't be able to think of me the same way again. It's OK. I understand. It's not personal. However, because of the potential entertainment value, I decided to share with you the "inspired by true events" story of Donna vs Red Wine. That's right. For a whole five days, this Southern Baptist born and bred girl...took up drinking, came very close to breaking a good man, and offended everyone who knew about it. For different reasons than you might think.

I don't drink. I never have (more than a yukky sip or a delicious cruise ship hot chocolate-y thing) and I probably never will. I'm not a prude, nor is it really much of a religious issue. Because I often write on matters of faith here, I want to be clear on where I stand. No where in scripture does it say that drinking alcohol is forbidden. That water that Jesus turned into wine at the wedding in Cana was real wine. Not good Southern Baptist Welch's Grape Juice as many of us were taught. (I know...I was shocked too!) The Bible says not to be drunk and in scripture bad things happened to those who were drunk, starting with Noah in Genesis 9:20-23. If you're unfamiliar, look it up. As a good southern woman, I shy away from being shamed when I can, and Noah had a shaming that no good southerner could come back from! Lucky for Noah, he wasn't from below the Mason-Dixon Line. I'm just saying, y'all!

 I happen to have three very good reasons for not being a tippler. 1) Growing up, I watched it consume an uncle I loved, and I watched him destroy his life and the lives of anyone who was close to him, and often that included me. The man behind the drink was amazing when he wasn't drinking. His "habit" took his life  when he was much to young. Because this tendency already runs in my family, it has always seemed wise to abstain. 2) I think it could be confusing to some if I were seen publicly drinking because I've always been a non drinker. Starting when I was very outspoken about underage drinking in my "East  Texas dry county, nothing to do, underage high school days," a minority for sure, and also in my University of Texas days where every day was a party for almost everyone and being a Christian non drinker is NOT cool. I was cool with being not cool. I AM a Christian and people associate my faith and non imbibing with me. Scripture tells me not to cause anyone to stumble. This is MY thing, doesn't have to be yours. It's easy for me to avoid that because.....3) I can't stand the smell, the taste, or the fumes of alcoholic drinks. Even the hot chocolate-y things would have tasted better without alcohol, I thought. I've never tasted beer, but based on it's appearance I'm pretty sure it tastes like pee. If that's your bag, hey, I'm not judging. I just don't get it.

Now to get on with it. A few years ago I was struggling with terrible insomnia. Worse than usual. Mr. Perfect, who has a co-starring role in this story, had told me for years that a little wine would help me sleep. One evening I saw yet another news story about how a glass of red wine every day was good for your heart. As a woman who is fighting the battle of the bulge, er bulges, I realized that it might be good for my heart and my sleep if I took up the habit. The queen needs her beauty sleep, y'all! I can't be looking all "rode hard and put up wet!" A lack of sleep makes you ugly.  I am NOT going to "go gentle into that great goodnight." I'm fighting it with all my Southern spunk! I knew I didn't care for the taste of red wine because I didn't care for the smell but surely I could stand 5 ounces once a day. Surely. So, temporarily tossing reason number two aside, I looked to Facebook for advice. I have a lot of those wine aficionado friends so I asked them for a recommendation. They were all happy to oblige and a little surprised this teetotaler was taking up spirits. I got a lot of recommendations. I also got about seven (secret) messages from friends who are also nondrinkers asking me to let them know (secretly) if I found a wine I could tolerate. I had started a secret society! What followed broke the heart of my man and left him in a heap on the floor, lost me a few friends AND denied me a sweet gig as the "Worthy High Princess of the Secret Southern Baptist Wine Drinkers Society." (I made that up.)

Day 1: Perfect had stopped and picked up a highly recommended bottle of red. After dinner, I went and got a measuring cup and measured out 5 ounces, which I had read was the heart healthy "dose." My hopes were high that I would instantly be healthier and probably drop 50 pounds from my healthy lifestyle change that very night. I took one sip and gagged!!! That is some nasty stuff. I held my nose, and drank the rest even though it took me about 30 minutes, whining and saying "stuff" the whole time. I believe my status on Facebook for my friends said something about it tasting like "mold filtered through dirty miner's socks." How do people drink this on purpose? I was obviously not born to be sophisticated or classy. I thought I could at least fake classy. Nope. Not so much. Perfect was encouraging. It will get easier, he said. You did great (cough lie cough.) My Facebook cheerleaders were encouraging and gave me new recommendations. I concocted a plan for day 2.

Day 2: Perfect had picked up a new bottle of recommended wine because I had clearly rejected bottle one. I had decided that the problem was clearly the glass. I had just used an old plastic cup day one. So I got a glass wine glass for day two. Aren't I smart? Nope. Still tasted worse than anything I've ever had! So, much like day 1, I held my nose, whined, griped, said "stuff" complained and yelled for about 30 minutes until it was done. Perfect was probably wondering how this was helping my health since I was clearly raising my blood pressure. I was hoping it was good for that too. My Facebook friends were concerned that I still wasn't converted after day 2. I had written something like "swine swill fit for zombie mean girls that you hate." I formulated a solution for day 3.

Day 3: New bottle. Recommendation, etc. Y'all are catching on. No problem, I've got the perfect fix for day 3. I need it to be cold and numb my tongue so I poured it over ice. Perfect's face went red. He said some stuff about "how dare I?" He couldn't participate in this and left the room. So, hopeful but alone, I took a sip. OH MY NO!!! Ack, gag, gross! So nasty. Not better. I held my nose, yelled, stomped around and told that glass just what I thought about it for the next 30 minutes! My Facebook post that night said something about "If we took space aliens who were out to destroy us as POWs they still wouldn't deserve this worse than paint thinner junk" ....or something like that. I was un-friended by two of my besties who could hear no more. New idea for day 4, but I was losing hope.

Day 4: Perfect refused to buy me a new bottle. Something about a "waste of good wine" and he was "going to have to handle all my wasted bottles himself" and I'm pretty sure he accused me of driving him to drink. So....glass glass. 5 ounces of red nasty. What it needed was some sweetness. So I added sugar lots of it. About equal parts sugar and wine. Perfect LOST it, y'all. He was stomping, yelling, pretty sure he called me undeserving and wasteful! He told me the "wine" didn't deserve me. Whatever! I was about to have some delicious SWEET red wine. Then...DEAR SWEET GRANNY up in Heaven who told me not to take up drinking lest I come to ruin, you were right!!!!!! That was nasty! Not better!!! So yell, stomp, hold nose, 30 minutes, etc. Blood pressure rising, man losing his grip on the will to live. I believe my Facebook post that night was something like: "A spoonful of sugar does not help the wine go down." Also, I'm pretty sure I took to calling the wine some personal names and for that I'm truly sorry. I mean, I never met Mama Grape and I shouldn't have called her ugly. That was my bad. 4 more Facebook friends "disappeared."

Day 5: I got this now. I just need a combo deal. So I grabbed the measuring cup and measured out my 5 ounces of old wine because Perfect still refused to purchase new wine. Poured it in a glass. While Perfect was at this point probably consulting an attorney about having me put away, he was equally curious about what was left for me to do. And he was nervous. Very nervous. He said something about how he couldn't stand to watch it. So...I took my glass of wine, reached for the sugar, stirred in less than the night before. Perfect blew the top of his head right off, y'all! Not to be deterred, I went over to the fridge, added ice to my concoction and... "Perfect, Perfect!! Are you OK?? Wake up! Honey, are you in there? Should I dial 911? Help!" He was in a heap on the floor, twitching like he had been shocked. Eventually I got him back but that was a close one! He almost missed my "nose holding, stomping, 30 minutes, etc ritual." My Facebook post that night said something about "How neither ice nor sugar were still my friend" and that the next night I would be mixing in delicious iced Dr. Pepper." Also, I'm pretty sure I said something rather judgy and not very Christian to all my wine drinking friends about their taste level being lacking. Again, that was my bad. I meant to say OTHER wine drinkers that I didn't know. 7 less friends. Oops.

Day 6. I have a plan. Um, where's the wine? Perfect, barely recovered from the previous evening, sat me down for a talk. An "intervention" if you will. He said he didn't like me when I drank. That we couldn't afford my habit and if I didn't stop, he was pretty sure I was going to die. He didn't say the words exactly, but I distinctly get the feeling he meant he might have a hand in my passing. He said I had to give it up for the sake of our marriage and he couldn't keep "cleaning up" my leftovers. He pointed out that I was obnoxious to my friends and they too were concerned. So, I've given up my drinking habit for the good of my family and my Facebook friend count. I now get fired on Facebook for entirely other reasons. It's been several years now and I think I've been forgiven. I told a friend this story the other day and I had another genius solution. I told her I should get a box of wine, freeze it and then just cut off a chunk every night. I just invented WINESICLES!!!! Let's see if Perfect goes for it. I'm not real hopeful.

Well, I think that's what occurred. I may have embellished a bit. The memory is fuzzy. That's what happens after 5 straight days of drinking...5 ounces a day. It gets you in trouble. So I'm back to delicious Dr. Pepper on the rocks. To those of you who went through this with me and still love me, I thank you. It was a hard period for all of us but we made it through.

Where Have All Of The Old People Gone?

I had a conversation last week with an older gentleman I deeply respect about an issue that was troubling my heart. A personal issue that I couldn't seem to find the answer to, no matter how hard I searched or prayed. He was able to lay the wisdom on me and give me a very detailed answer to how to best handle the issue and he did it without pause. This is a man who is a mature Christian (married to a mature Christian woman) and was active in every kind of church leadership for most of his adult life. The key word is WAS. I am blessed to have access to such wisdom. However, that kind of wisdom is hard to find in today's church. I will explain why (from my point of view and in a circle as is my way) and end with some questions I hope you will help me answer.

Disclaimer: I grew up in the Southern Baptist Convention so it's all I can speak to. The following is likely not applicable to other denominations and certainly not all SBC churches or seminaries. Just a generalization from my point of view. Double Disclaimer: If you're a fan of the Church Growth Movement, you should probably not read the rest of this post or you'll want to pummel me. I really don't have time to get pummeled right now.

It seems to me that we, the Church, have hung out a "not welcome" sign for the people of my parents generation and older. We've told them we don't need their "wisdom." The same people who raised us, discipled us and who led the church for many, many years have been programmed out of churches. Or at least in some places they have. They are very uncomfortable in a modern worship service. Where I live, I can't find them. There is an Assemblies of God church here that is "marketed" specifically to those over 55. I can't get behind that either. Why lock all of that wisdom up in one place?

 In a way, it's kind of their own fault, I suppose. They created the "Church Growth Movement" of the 60's which planted the seeds for the "seeker-sensitive model" and other "models" which led the church to decide to be more "cool" and "relevant" and "relational" and less discipleship oriented. The "growth" in the CGM was numerical (butts in seats and cool new buildings)  instead of spiritual maturity. The church began to grow in number but not in the Great Commission way...interestingly enough, while calling it a move of the Great Commission. Obviously this is a vast simplification of one part of the whole story.

As my generation rose up to leadership we decided we knew better. We didn't like the "fuddy-duddiness" our parents passed down to us in a church service or even church programs. We liked youth camp and conferences and the like. So we set out to re-create that experience in our worship services. (Again, an oversimplification.) We kicked hymns to the curb. They're theology, but no fun. We adopted a contemporary Christian guitar and drums rock band style and sometimes even played secular music in "worship." We changed the unofficial-but you better not break it- dress code, even for pastors. We even changed pastors. Gone are the old men teaching Bible. In are young men who are personalities and can draw a crowd. We changed the exegetical and expository preaching and brought in life application preaching that is entertaining and useful to anyone, not just Christians. We made church mostly about non-Christians and made sure they were comfortable. Seminaries began to teach a non-literal Bible. We hated business meetings so we became pastor led leaving all of the church's decisions to one man and probably a young man at that. We focused more on programs, especially for young children because the Church Growth Movement says you must have mostly young families to "grow" your church. People became less vested in their local body because if one church doesn't meet their need, they can shop for a new one that better meets their family's needs. So leadership got in to the marketing game.

Today, churches now have demographics and visions and branding and marketing and consultants telling them how to reach the people they've decided to reach and how to raise giving and all sorts of useful things. We've become a consumer driven Church just as the society has become a consumer driven society. We have kept up with the times. The church now mirrors society. Even our divorce rate is the same as the world's. Not all of this is good nor bad. I do believe it's led to the issue at hand for the purposes of this post.

Where have all of the old people gone? In my adult life I've only attended one local church that had more than a handful of old people. And by old people, I mean people in their 60's and up. Not necessarily OLD people. In every other church where they had the handful, they were not in leadership. One church had a few in leadership left when I was there but ushered them out pretty quickly by deciding to rotate deacons off and let them stay off. They were told they'd earned their rest that they didn't ask for. Change can be good no doubt but we still need wisdom in leadership and sometimes that comes through the grey hairs. One church had a retired pastor in the congregation who wasn't even allowed to be a deacon. He would have like it, as far as I remember from the long ago conversation. But all of that experience was never made available to that local body by their own choice.

My heart grieves for the man I conversed with last week. He and many of his ilk are no longer in church. After a lifetime of service to his Lord and his church, he can no longer attend a worship service or even Sunday School. He taught Sunday School for many years, has the most biblical knowledge of any man I know, yet I bet his Sunday School class is taught by a thirty year old. The music in a modern worship service is an affront to his senses. The preaching is confusing. He already knows how to live and doesn't need to be taught to be a better parent from the pulpit...if there were still pulpits. He loves scripture. The dress code of today is offensive. Who comes to church in their pajamas? People really do these days.

So here are my questions and I hope you can help me.

1.  If you are over 60, are you still in church? If so, are you still growing there? 
2. Does your church emphasis discipleship? If so, is it also growing numerically?
3. What is the style of your worship service? (ex: contemporary, traditonal, blended?) 
4. What is the model of your discipleship? (ex: Sunday School, small groups, home groups, cell groups, mix)
5. What are the specific things that your church does to value the folks your age? Regardless of your age.
6. Do you have old people in your church? Do they/ you participate in leadership? Is it their/ your choice, either way?
7. Do you know the old people in your church or do they keep to themselves?
8. Do you know the youth (students in middle school -college age)in your church? Do you know the children in your church? 
9. Do all age groups manage to blend together into one church or do you feel that everyone does their own thing?
10. Do you feel welcome in your church? If you bring a guest, will your guest be welcome?
11. If you've been to seminary, how to they address this issue...or do they address it at all?
12. What sorts of sermons does your Pastor preach? (ex: Expository, Life Application, Motivational, mix?)
13. What else would you like me to know about your church that applies to the concerns at hand? Elaborate

I'm in no way endorsing a consumer church for old people. I'm not saying change everything to please them. I'm obviously not going to solve this one. I'm just trying to gain understanding about something that bothers me. I personally need children, youth and old people in my local body. I was in a church once with no youth and it was sad. They had old people and the old people "legislated" the youth right out of the church. So I understand it's complicated. But I'd love to hear from you. People generally don't leave comment but I'm hoping that you will choose to leave me feedback. You don't have to answer every question, just the ones you find relevant. Even if my views differ from yours. I'd love to be wrong! Educate me.

I'll end with some irony and scripture. The SBC is dying. Literally. Quite a while ago they decided to mold themselves to look like everyone else. So young people are deciding to not stay in SBC churches because they likely never knew they grew up in one. For that reason (and others) statistically the SBC members are dying off and not being replaced. What was once the largest is now shrinking in a big hurry. Because all they have is old people. Yet I still can't find them. Figure that out. I can't. 

"Wisdom is with the aged, and understanding in length of days."  Job 12:22

"Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is gone."   Psalm 71:9

"The glory of young men is their strength, but the splendor of old men is their gray hair."  Proverbs 20:29