He doesn't need a scorecard...

I'm in an ugly situation.  I don't even know how to write how I feel.  How do you spell eww-bleghhh-ughhhhh?

I'm sad.  Really sad.  My heart hurts over the way I was treated today.  I needed advice.  I didn't want to call mom, she worries.

Satan began to fill my head with lies when I thought to call my friend.  "You haven't talked to her in a while and now you're going to call her crying?  She's going to be annoyed, she's probably busy out with the bus ministry, those people need her more than you anyway."

I called Geri Hejl. 

God:1  Satan: 0

She didn't go on the bus.  She wasn't feeling well and felt it would be okay to stay home tonight.

God: 2  Satan: 0

So I cried, I vented, I wept, I confessed I was terrified and worried.  I sighed and blew snot.  All the ugliness.  She listened.  She loved.  She gave me sound, biblical advice.  And she shared His holy word.  His promise of protection and comfort.

God: 3  Satan: 0

Matthew 10:28

"Do not fear those who kill the body but are unable to kill the soul; but rather fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell."

"You are going with the Lord in this Margaret.  You are the majority." she said.

I found comfort in Psalm 56 as well,

"Be gracious to me O God, for man has trampled upon me;

Fighting all day long he oppresses me.

My foes have trampled upon me all day long.

For they are many who fight proudly against me.

When I am afraid,

I will put my trust in You.

In God, whose word I praise,

In God I have put my trust;

I shall not be afraid.

What can mere man do to me?

All day long they distort my words;

All their thoughts are against me for evil.

They attack, they lurk,

They watch my steps,

As they have waited to take my life."

God: ...Do we really need to keep score anymore?

My life is not at risk but what is going on is absolute injustice.  

We prayed for my situation.  Then the hardest prayer.  The prayer for my enemy who has created this ugliness.  That was tough.

I am going in with the Lord.  God is now here and He will be there tomorrow...

Single

So, I was trying to fall asleep the other night.  I was unsuccessful.

I believe God likes to keep me awake to chat with me every once in a while, He was in the mood for a talk so we chatted about me feeling sorry for myself about being single.

Let me preface this.  

Almost everyone at work is on the lookout for a date for me.  Not because I asked them to.  One met a guy at an auto parts store, got the guy's number and wants me to call him.  Not gonna happen.  My boss wants me to go out for a drink with her nephew.  Seriously?  Another one said I should look into "It's Just Lunch."  It's just what?!

Here's the typical conversation:

Co-worker: "Mags you are so cute (or funny, smart, nice, sweet,etc.) do you have a boyfriend?"

Me: Thinking here we go.  "Nope."

Co-worker: "Really?!?!"

And then it's a round of 20 questions about what I'm looking for and an evaluation of my likes and dislikes.  

Even my church peeps are in on it.  Denise Petek may never play matchmaker in my life again.  The guy she set me up with made the comment that "short term mission trips are more like vacations" knowing I just came back from a week in El Salvador.  Deal breaker.  Dan Anthony wants a $50 Chipotle gift card if he gets me a date.  And sweet little Alice Gawel prays everyday for my left ring finger.

What really topped it off though, the cou de gra of comments was one I received recently.  "You are so pretty and have such a great personality, I don't understand why guys aren't knocking down your door."  Bleh.  What do you say?

Needless to say I started to have a pity party for myself.  The low point of my party was when I received my latest AT&T bill.  Yeah, I came home from a long day and there she was in her big square envelope, looking all innocent with her orange trim.  As I was reading her monthly assessments I quickly noticed a mistake.  An $88.71 mistake.  Normally I would sit down, read it over a couple times and perhaps even call customer service and hash it out.  But it was my pity party.  And no pity party is complete without a good cry.  Yep, I cried.  A good old-fashioned, woe-is-me-I-hate-being-single-and-having-to-deal-with-all-this-by-myself kind of cry.  Now I do have to defend myself here for uno momento.  This was also during a timeframe when I was looking to buy a new car.  So all this money stuff is floating around in my subconscious.

So I have my pity party and  try to keep it moving.

Until I can't fall asleep because Senor wants to have a chat.

What I realized from our conversation is that the term single is what I'm having an issue with.  Married people aren't referred to as "double".  The semantics are bothering me.

 If you look up the word "single" in the dictionary, the first definition given states "only one, not one of several."  That is not me.  Not the definition of Margaret.  I am definitely "one of several."  I am not alone.  I am not single.

I have a tremendous family unit.  My family is incredibly close and supportive.  I have a great group of friends and an incredible church family.  I am not single.

I found comfort in 1 Peter 5:9 "Refuse to give in to him by standing strong in your faith.  You know your Christian family all over the world is having the same kind of suffering."

I was being pursued by evil.  He was trying to take a cheap shot and hit me where it hurts. He was dancing to my cries at my pity party.  But before his celebration could continue,  my God showed up and booted him away with His words of love and promise.  

I may technically be "single" but I am assuredly "one of several."

Good Friday at CVC

I went to the 6:30 Good Friday service tonight.  After being walloped in the arm by my beloved Pastor (that dude has some power in his right jab!)  I settled in to the back left side of the sanctuary with Holly.

I usually like sitting up front but we were running late and announcements had already begun so we took the first empty seats we saw.  Worship was beautiful as well as communion.  We helped distribute and came back to our seats.  After prayer, baskets were passed around not to collect an offering but to collect care cards.  Earlier during service I had noticed a man I didn't recognize, so I assumed he was new to CVC.  My assumptions were proven correct I believe after I witnessed what happened next.

When the basket was passed to him he put in some money.  How sweet I thought.  The man helping pass the baskets saw him do this too.  He took the money out and gave it back to the gentleman.  The (new) guy seemed confused and off guard.  The other guy briefly explained to him they were collecting cards.  I could see the look on the guys face that he was confused and I think felt obligated to give. The man collecting I could see was touched and kind of gave him a "guy" hug.  Those awkward kind of lean in-pat on the back things you guys do.  It was a nice exchange.  It moved me to tears.  I almost couldn't stop.

It made me think about the message.  God's offering of his only son as our replacement.  We have salvation through Jesus.  Not because of anything we do or give. 

It made me think.  How many people come to CVC for the first time and donate to the offering because they feel obligated to do so?  Do they get it?  Do they understand that we would rather have them give their hearts to Jesus then a few bucks in a basket?  Or to give any money only as an act of worship? Do they go home at night and feel satisfied only because they gave money to a church?

It moved me to tears because I was that person for 28 years.  I felt satisfied when I attended mass and dropped $5 in the basket.  I was content with giving up swearing at Lent and proud that I stuck with it for 40 days.

When I was younger and a big event was happening the next day, I prayed hard the night before.  I would say a Hail Mary, an Our Father and ask specifically just for what I wanted to happen.  For example.  I have a fear of heights and flying.  I'm claustrophobic.  So my prayer would end like this.  "...and please let me have a safe flight going there and coming back."  For 2 weeks before my trip that was my prayer.  In the plane I would sit in my seat and in my head I would recite the Hail Mary and Our Father over and over again.  I wouldn't stop until 2 minutes after the plane took off.  Why just 2 minutes you ask?  Because I had read somewhere that the first 2 minutes were pivotal to any flight.  If a plane was going to blow up or crash it would be in the first 2 minutes.  After the 2 minutes, I stopped praying.  God saved me.

So that's how I existed for 28 years.  I went to mass every Sunday.  I observed every tradition, sacrament, every meatless Friday.  Without love or thought and a hopeless, empty heart. Without a relationship with Christ.

I developed a relationship with Christ after a devastating breakup with a man who I thought was "the one." When we ended the relationship I was heartbroken and suicidal.  I didn't have hope.  In my desperation I reached out to Alice who prayed for me and invited me to CVC one Sunday.  I agreed.  I had nothing to lose.  

Walking up the steps to church I thought, "if I leave here today with this same emptiness I'm walking in with I'm going to take my own life."  I couldn't take the heartache any longer. It was hurting way too much.

I met Pastor Rick after service that morning.  I was shocked that this man was going to take time to meet and talk with me.  I thought for sure I was going to get a superficial greeting and a quick handshake.  I got the opposite.  Rick sat with me and Alice and listened to my watered down story.  I didn't share my plans because I didn't want to make a scene.  He treated me like I was an old friend.  He didn't patronize me.  He didn't give me any advice.  He listened and he allowed God to work through him.  You see, God knew what I needed at that moment.  He knew he needed to show up through Rick.  I truly gave my heart to Christ that morning when Rick prayed for me.  I left CVC feeling loved, hopeful and filled.  God saved me.  Not because of anything I did or gave.  Not because of any repetitive empty prayer or because I earned it. Because He loves me.   

So, although I'm not sure where that man's heart is, I'm going to pray that he left CVC filled with hope.  Hope in the resurrection of our Savior.  Hope in the promise of healing, forgiveness, new life and love that can only be found in Christ.  Not through empty prayers, deeds or a few bucks thrown into a basket.  I hope that man knows God's love.  That would be good.

5:46pm

Yeah, it's 5:46pm on a Wednesday.  I'm sitting in my dining room waiting for my high school small group to come over.  They don't know it yet but we are going to put together doorhangers that have Easter invites for CVC.  After some packing, good food and prayer we're gonna hit the pavement in my hood and invite my neighbors to church. 

I recently found out that my plans for El Salvador have to be put on hold for the summer.  My manager (read: Corporate) wants Career Services to hang out for the summer.  That translates to "please don't take extended time off until about late July or August, perhaps even September."  At first I was really annoyed.  I mean really!  However God gave me peace almost immediately.  He let me know it's okay to stay local for the summer.  Pour into your high school girls.  Spend quality time with the family.  Minister here in Cleveland for a bit.  If I want you to go you'll go.  So I'm at peace...uhhhh yeah it's peace.  A little sad but peace.  So I'm here for the summer.  My girls are excited to hang at my house every other Wednesday night for small group time and I'm looking forward to it.

So it's 5:54pm time to turn up the Bluegrass that's playing in the background and pop some popcorn...hope I still have some rootbeer!

Side note:  As I'm walking to turn up that Bluegrass I realize a song by Emmylou Harris is being played, "I Love to Tell the Story."

"I love to tell the story,

the old, old story,

of Jesus and his love."

Ha! :)

Jury Duty part Dos

Okay. I was a potential juror for an attempted murder case earlier in the week. I was #19 and didn't even make it into "the box".
Wednesday morning I made it. I was #5 for a civil case.

This by far, was the best experience I've had as a juror. On so many levels. Starting with the judge. The honorable Jose Villanueva. He is about mid to late sixties. Cute little gray hair line, nice disposition, great tie. Slender, 5"6', about a buck 50. Handsome. Very friendly and accommodating to us. Asked us questions about ourselves. Took his time explaining EVERYTHING.

Here's the background for the case real quick: Husband and wife, early 60's suing their neighbor and his employer for a brain injury he sustained from the neighbor hitting him with the company van. In 2004.(clue #1) Asking for compensation for medical expenses and emotional distress and future medical problems. Wife also asking for compensation for loss of consortium. Consortium is a Latin word that means partnership.(clue #2)


You first go through a process called "Voir Dire". It's when the lawyers for each side, plaintiff and defendant, ask questions and decide whether they want you on the jury. The defense attorney wanted to know if I drove and own my own car. Yes and yes. The plaintiff's attorney wanted to know if we felt if there should be monetary limits on injuries, it was a general question to all of us. I kept my hands on my lap and my mouth shut.

So...civil case...needs only 8 jurors and 1 alternate and as I mentioned before I was #5, I was in. What was different about Judge Villanueva, is that he allows his jurors to take notes AND ask questions. "Yessss!" I thought, "let me at 'em."

Opening statements began. Blah, blah,blah. No evidence, no facts...I'm not paying attention. I actually just began praying. Praying for wisdom. Praying for my fellow jurors. Then the action started!

Expert witnesses! State Highway Patrol! Neurologists! Neuropsychologists!(didn't know they existed) Accident Reconstructionists!(them either) Co-workers! Psychologists! Neighbors! And don't forget the evidence. Pictures! Aerial views! Medical Records! Accident reports! Supplements! ER reports! Whiteboards and scales! Graphs! Now... seems a little overwhelming right? It wasn't. Here's why. 3 out of the 4 Dr.'s who testified were paid to testify (I won't even tell you how much, your stomach will hurt) AND to examine the plaintiff once or twice. 1 out of the 2 accident reconstructionists was also paid a crazy amount and just didn't really impress me. The beauty of being on a jury is that you can use your own sense of validity and reasoning for any witness. Having worked for Orthopedic surgeons for over 6 years I felt I was able to discern the witnesses credibility, their medical findings as well as the plaintiffs complaints and symptoms. Besides, when most of the witnesses crumbled and turned red in the face when the defense attorney got a hold of them it was pretty obvious.
Speaking of the defense attorney...I'm her #1 fan. What a gal! What a professional! What an attorney! She never lost her cool, stayed focused, had her evidence ready and never let the other 2 snarky attorneys rattle her. Why I think she is so remarkable is two-fold. 1)A defense attorneys role in a civil case is to be reactionary. She can only be so prepared for what the plaintiff's attorney was going to do. Sure she knows about the witnesses and evidence, but she really can't prep for what is going to take place. 2)Her appearance completely contradicted her. She's a slender gal with short hair softly combed back. And she has the fairest skin I've seen since Snow White. On top of that she wore fierce blush just on the tops of her cheeks extending to her hairline. To compliment all that she accessorized with jet black framed eyeglasses with the sharpest suits! As soon as she opened her mouth, your became like a kid sitting in front of the TV all zombie-like watching the newest Disney movie. She was very soft spoken and monotone but she presented her case in this sort of stream of consciousness that just made everything very clear. She kept the facts straight and didn't try to make anything confusing. She stood her ground when challenged. On the other side of the court room you had this seasoned attorney who couldn't have been more bored or passionless about serving his clients. Unprepared, exaggerated, and patronizing like you wouldn't believe. He was the loudest eye-roller I ever saw! Really sloppy.(clue#3)
After day 1, I knew what my decision was. Although Judge Jose (Judge Villanueva is taking too long to type people) told us not to come to any decisions, I already had made up my mind...

Jury Duty

So I've been called again to serve downtown for the Court of Commons Pleas.  This is my 3rd time being summoned.  It's not as bad as some would think, especially if your employer pays you when you're gone, which mine does.

I always have a bit of anxiety when coming into a new situation.  I think it's part of my control freak nature.  I hate being late.  I hate not knowing what's going on.  For jury duty it's the drive, what kind of case am I going to get, who are my fellow jurors going to be and so on.  Admittedly, I am working on this.  I'm learning to just relax, take my time, let others do their job.  I really don't know where I got this tendency from but I am trying to chill out.  

Anyway, you could imagine my surprise when waiting to check in on Monday morning I see a familiar face in a crowd of about 150.  In the midst of all these strangers, I see the smiling face of my Pastor.  Pastor Rick.  Wow!  What are the odds of that.  I immediately felt relieved and excited.  Relieved to see a friendly face and excited to get the possibility to hang out with "the Big Guy."  We sat together for the orientation video and about halfway in I felt a nudge from my beloved Pastor, who I have to turn in and tell on that he was emailing via his cellphone during the presentation.  Tsk, tsk.  Anyhow he's quick to point out, again via the net off his cellphone, that the gentleman seated in front of us is Dr. Michael Rozien of Oprah and "You, On a Diet." fame.  How exciting.  

We settle in on our respective laptops.  Me on the floor and Rick in a chair "juicing" up his Dell. Honestly, I'm so excited I'm quiet.  So excited I'm quiet!  When I get really excited I tend to talk and ramble and ramble and talk...So I figured the best thing to do was to be quiet.  Unfortunately, Rick was called and I was called shortly thereafter.  So our "bonding" time was cut short  It's day 2 of jury duty and I haven't seen my Pastor since then.  It makes me a little sad.  One of the perks of jury duty is the people you meet and hang out with.  Honestly, think about the randomness of all the registered voters in Cuyahoga County.  The demographics, the religions, the educated, the unemployed.  As I look over to my right there is a table of 6 women sharing a really inclusive conversation amongst themselves.  Between hushed snippets you can hear peals of laughter. 2 middle aged women both white, 2 a bit older white as well and 2 younger black women.  Under what other circumstances might these women have such camaraderie?  However, literally as I'm observing these women a verbal fight breaks out.  A young man just started screaming at an older woman.  "You don't even know me!"  He shouted.  Hmmmm...

Anyway as I'm feeling sorry for myself and my lack of bonding time with Rick, it dawns on me. Maybe God is using him to bond with someone else?  I hope so.  I mean that last time God used Rick in my life was when he prayed with me to accept Christ.  So if he can be used again in some way I guess I'm okay with that...I'm just feeling a little selfish...I should work on that :)

Turkeys can fly...

Quote of the night.

Jacob (age 7): Flamingoes and penquins are the only flightless birds in the United States!

Me: Can turkeys fly?

Jessica (age 5) : If they're on a plane they can fly!