trying something new today- writing a little bit of a story- I hope to add on to it on Fridays, or throw it out and start a new one. Anyways, here's the first little bit.

---

It hadn’t been a romance made in heaven. In fact, it was more like the funny papers.

“Funny papers? Who says funny papers anymore?”

 

In fact, it was more like the Cartoon Network.

 

“No, that’s not what you mean. Say Peanuts.”

“You think we’re like Peanuts? Peanuts is all about unrequited love. Look, look at Charlie Brown and the redheaded girl. Look at Lucy and um, Schroeder.”

“Not Schroeder. Was it? His name was-“

 

Our story was more like something you’d find in an old newspaper comic, or maybe a Marx brother’s film. Something light and slapsticky- with the occasional surprisingly dark moment, like when Harpo plays the harp and you realize that he is such a deeply sad man.

 

All that to bring us to today, where I sit in a rumpled hospital bed with fractures scattered around from place to place. The quick version is, I tried to fix my own roof and found out I can’t fly. As to why I tried to fix the roof myself- I’ll let someone else tell that story.

 

It was a dark and stormy night…

 

“No, you are not saying that.”

“This is my narrative now, right?”

 

It was dark and stormy for many reasons. We had dined early, to have more time for arguing. It had been a little stormy for weeks, actually. Once again, we had arrived at that commit-or-bail option in the relationship, which is usually my cue to bail, but I was having second thoughts. I mean, I was considering the big M. I just happened to be considering it inside my head, which is why I got left with two entrees and a good bit of sympathy from all the husbandly-types in adjacent tables.

"Can I just say-"

"No."

to be continued... 

I'm thinking today about doing some fiction reviews... my brain is a little tired and I am not feeling terribly creative. (on that note, I am planning on starting some kind of required-writing time for meself to get the ol brain juices flowing- but, another day). Today, I'll just do a rundown of a couple of favorites, but not all of my favorites.

I mainly read Christian fiction. There's a couple secular authors I read, but for the most part I want to read stuff that I can walk away, if not edified, at least not defiled. So I try to keep it clean. 

Ted Dekker was really my favorite for his first couple of books.  He writes sort of thriller/supernatural type books, usually with a little romance thrown in. Blink of An Eye is possibly my favorite, in competition with the Circle Trilogy. There's actually several that were really good, but I want to move on.  Later, he started writing really scary horror-type stuff, and I have tried several times to read them because he is so interesting, but they're just too gross and scary. So.

I LOVE Lisa Samson. She writes deep. I like everything she's written. 

Linda Nichols, yep. 

Lately I've been reading teen novels by Melody Carlson. Now, her grown-up books are great, and for some reason I started reading these young adult series she has been doing- probably because, deep down inside, I'm still a youth pastor. Also, I want to write for young adults, probably. I am really enjoying the Diary of a Teenage Girl series (series is plural and singular, here I mean plural). One of my favorite things about this series is that she has her girls make commitments to God and walk them out- I think that's so important to model for teens, because they are usually set up for failure in books and movies. 

Sometimes, the MOG asks when I am going to stop reading and start writing. It's a good question. I think, very, very soon I am going to find that place- whether it's naptime or late at night- to start putting stuff on paper. Up first- a non-fiction about preemies. Maybe.

Hi folks, Brynn here. You may better know me as Bean, or Bryncess, or Bin-Bin. Or more recently, I have been called NO a lot. I don’t like that name. At all.

When someone calls me no, I have to move quick to keep doing what I am trying to do. My mom is the worst. Just when I have a nice big handful of toothpaste to wipe down my arms, she’s there, killing the fun.

Or like today, when Toby and I found the brownies and hid and ate them in Mommy’s bed. What’s the big deal? They’re good, right? And what better place to enjoy them than in front of some PBS? Such a party pooper.

Something I learned recently is the Shriek. If I open my mouth and let fly with a nice piercing screech, everyone pays attention. I might be the smallest person in this family, and sometimes people might even step on me, or knock me over with laundry hampers; but I can get some respect with the Shriek. I like to just walk around with my diaper sagging, shrieking at random intervals. That’ll show em.

Currently, I’m being forced to take a nap after I tried to help mom cook. She kept saying “Hot, hot” and I got so mad I spit on the floor. Next thing I knew, I was in my playpen. And I wasn’t EVEN done with my raviolis! Sheesh.

When I wake up from my nap, I am planning a little afternoon screeching, maybe a dirty diaper, and if I can find the time, I would really like to get under the bathroom sink and get into the shampoo and Daddy’s clipper attachments. And then maybe play with my baby dolls, and put them in the toilet.

Ms Smartypants

We all know that at least one baby we know of was breach and turned around by a certain substance burned between the mother's toes. This has worked I have heard at least 98 percent of the time. How does this work?-G

Well, my dear reader, it is a combination of things. Imagine if you will, that you are an enormous fetus, sleeping comfortably at some crazy diagonal angle, using ribs for a pillow and such. (are you imagining it? I am not) and suddenly you realize that your mother is SO serious about you changing positions that she is willing to put FIRE, and maybe even federally controlled substances, in between her toes. Upon realization of the true instability of your carrier, wouldn't you concede to whatever demands requests she might make? (this is an actual procedure, called moxibustion)

Could you elaborate on the future of such children...

Is it possible, dear reader, that as a payback of sorts, said child would decide to rule over all mankind and cats? I say, it is possible.

Smartypants,
What is the correct body form one should have when running?

To begin with, one must be upright, balancing on at least two legs. I dare not be a species-ist and leave out our multi-legged friends... Once upright and balanced, one must bend at the knee, or at the joint between the tibia and femur, if you are a cricket, and then move forward, one leg after the other in a rapid pattern. I have to warn you, however, I have attempted this clear and accurate plan at the YMCA and it did not lead me to a successful run. 

Dear Ms. SmartyPants,
When one does not know how to run in good form, does one a) keep running, no matter what she looks like?, b)go back to jog-walking? or c) slip off the tredmill and go hide in the locker room in embarrassment?

What one must do is, to speak in the vernacular, rock it like you own it. This involves the purchase of athletic looking athlete-wear from your department store of choice, in a coordinating shirt, exercise pants, and jacket- followed by tiny socks (real athletes show some ankle) and some workout-y looking shoes, with oxygen pumps in the heels and such. One must then have appropriately tousled athlete hair with matching headband, and iPod sleeve. No makeup, as you just get out of bed and hit the gym. Then, regardless of your insane flailing arms and slapping feet, keep a serious athlete face faced sternly forward. If you are propelled by force off the back of the treadmill, hold your calf, like you have a serious athlete cramp, and hobble off to the locker room, where the Naked Senior Citizens don't care. 

R2 had a bad seizure over the weekend, but has had a good recovery. I might write more about that later, but not today.

Tonight, we have our first home group here at the casa. I need to CLEAN, and how I hate it. So Smartypants will have to wait. Continue submitting questions on Friday's blog and I will answer them sometime this week.... also, have you checked out the ol' poetry blog lately? Maybe you should...

Worked out today. I tried running. I don't think you understand. I don't run. I can move at a decent clip when I need to get somewhere, and I have a lot of leg, so a step covers a lot of ground. But I am realizing that running makes everything happen faster. Yeah, that'll preach. 

I also realized that I stink at running. I can't do my feet right and it's all jarring and I can hear my feet slapping on the treadmill, but the other pudgy mommies' feet are not making any noise, and I can only run for like a minute before I am all wore out and have to take it back to a brisk walk. I think I run wrong. How lame do you have to be to run wrong? Preeeety lame.

I bet y'all are hurting for some Smartypants. So be it.

Submit your questions of a general and entertaining nature today through Monday and if nothing interesting enough bumps you, your questions (or a portion thereof) will be answered in a general and entertaining way on Monday.

Decided to skip the YMCA today, because my house looks like Bolivar. (Again, with the hurricane insensitivity, I know)

Haven't worked on the house so much. We had a slightly more relaxed morning than usual, and the tots ate one bite of banana bread and kinda licked their yogurt spoons and then wandered aimlessly about the kitchen until I decided they were done and to get on with it already because my only real chance for a shower is during sesame street for petes sake and DO NOT EAT CHIPS OUT OF THE TRASH and if you're so hungry why don't you eat your breakfast and quit making your sister scream. To which they said I'm soooooo hungry and I don't want this I want chips don't throw my breakfast away aaaaaa I'm still eating that I don't want to sit in a chair Brynn haves to eat too aaaaaaaa.

At which point I decided to let them eat and go grab a shower, leaving them in the kitchen with access to knives and electrical appliances, and with a little ingenuity, poison, and an outside exit. Also, banana bread and yogurt and strawberries. And trash chips, maybe.

Now, in mommy logic, usually when I make a choice like this, the fates cancel each other and nothing happens. (bring diapers and wipes to Walmart, nobody poops. Golden.)

I run the shower with the door open, so I can decipher between you tooooook my buzzzzzightyear and i'm bleeeeeeeeding screams. And just after I put in conditioner, I notice an odd thing. Silence. If I were a cussing woman....

I rush to the kitchen, and they are happily playing in the backyard, yogurt covered, in ratty pjs and underwear. In reality, they are very safe. To get out, they would have to drag the very heavy gate open, and barring meteors or flying predators, nothing much would happen. But still. Alarming.

So there I stand, in my kitchen, yelling for them to get back inside now. The only real problem is that they don't really care what I would LIKE for them to do, as they are very content with their current activities. Oh, and I'm not really dressed appropriately for outdoors. So I yell some more, and then rush to my room and get dressed somewhat and run out and grab Bean, who is VERY disgruntled to be interrupted.

I usher them back down the hall, while being scolded by Toby for yelling, and put them in front of the TV with death threats (Brynn is unmoved), and finish my shower.

On the plus side, my hair is beautifully conditioned.

I have turned over the post-tour new leaf, and have worked out for 3 mornings in a row. I had a VERY good time on tour, eating whatever I wanted and guzzling Cokes, and I got to keep all of the fat! Win-win! So I'm trying to start a positive routine of going to the Y regularly. Ideally, I should go every other day. But I am so aware of my fickle nature that I'm hitting it hard now in case I quit soon. (You'd probably have to be in my head)

Anyways. So that's a productive feeling. Speaking of productivity, the Viking cleaned my house all the way to 11 while we were gone and we have already managed to tump it upside down. Sheesh. We're moving on July the 1st and I need to start getting ready to move, which DOES NOT COMPUTE.

In other news, Toby is potty-trained. He has had an accident or two on my watch, but usually immediately post-nap, which makes sense. I haven't even grasped what this means for me yet. I have been changing 3 diapers since 2/07. One down, one to go, one to not get my hopes up.

Today's post is not terribly interesting, but I think yesterday's was pretty good. So you can read that one for actual enjoyment, and this one for boring news.

Clark, out.

I haven't talked much about American Idol much this season, for two reasons... 1) those among you that hate and despise tv and especially the godless title of Idol don't enjoy Idol blogs and 2)I've been media fasting for about 6 weeks, which has been most of the season.

Despite all that, I'm going to talk about it today. It has come down to two contestants, the flamboyantly gay (but not proclaimed) Adam Lambert, and the boy next door, Kris Allen. So here's the deal.

Yeah, Adam is probably gay. The pictures of him kissing men are on the internet, and the gaydar was pinging prior to that. What is bugging me is the way some Christians are making this competition God vs. Gay.

See, God loves people. He hates sin, sure. I don't know if He hates homosexuality more than your garden-variety fornication. And even if He does.... I don't think He loves people who have chosen a gay lifestyle any less than He loves anyone else.

This morning on Christian radio, the DJ was talking about American Idol, and how she was voting for Kris, and Adam is over the top and flamboyant, and she was being pretty vague (play the songs, lady! we don't CARE!) but then she takes a caller, and he says, if you want to know who to vote for, just go youtube Adam Lambert and you'll see what he's about. And then the guy says, and this is a quote, "I would let Kris Allen date my daughter, but I wouldn't let that Adam inside my house." Seriously? And then the DJ says, laughing, "You wouldn't give the guy a cup of water?" and the caller says, "Maybe I'd bring him some water in the yard."

Ugh. I think there might be a Scripture about that whole cup of water thing.

I have struggled even writing this post, because it bothers me so much, and I don't think I'm articulating it well. I'll just say, for me, as the church, I want to have open arms to hurting people. Do people need deliverance? Absolutely. Can we hate them to the cross? Uh, no.

Free video chat by Ustream

It's over, folks. Archives at ustream.tv/channel/radiant-on-the-road

Due to the enormous outcry for more video blogs, (thanks, Kerri) I will comply.

Couple disclaimers: a) I am tired, and look it. You didn't come to this blog for eye candy, now, did you?
b) when I make reference to the "boys", I mean the boys and Han. Han is beautiful and feminine, but surrounded by males and thus is ocassionally lumped in.

I plan on updating this blog today, Lord Willin. 

New Radiant podcast available on iTunes or for direct download! Go start the download and then come back and read.... 

One week till I see my boys!

Gotta whole weekend to catch y'all up on, so I'll have to keep the loquaciousness down... let's see

Virginia Beach on Thursday. These guys are old friends, and it was awesome to see them again- the only bummer is how quickly we're moving- we didn't really have much time to catch up. We played for the youth group, and then there was some really specific prophetic ministry- we lined 'em up and prophesied. Luckily, we're just encouraging so we don't have to be that prophetic.

Washington DC on Friday. We ended up being really late for setup in DC. We chilled in DC traffic for a long, long time and then we had to kinda hurtle out of the van and throw all the gear inside the church whilst passing cars honked at the van and trailer. We completed setup in 35 minutes- a new record. THEN, salsa. Evidently the tentacles of this blog reach to Washington, and my cries for salsa were heard. (Thanks, Amy!) It was a happy day for my mouth. We led worship there for some people from the host church, and the Justice House of Prayer (JHOP). JHOPs really have our heart, giving their lives and hearts for prayer for a more political focus- it was beautiful to get to spend some time with them.

Saturday we had the day off, and we spent the morning touring DC, which is one of my favorite cities. We walked to the Supreme Court and past a lot of large stone historical stuff with great significance, and then most of the team went to the Museum of Natural History or Science or something and me and Matt were like "Whaaaa?" so we bailed and went next door (which was actually like a block or more) to the Smithsonian -American History. It was so, so, so amazing. I want to go sometime and spend like 2 days in there. We had to move at a pretty good clip, and we got through the Star Spangled Banner, Abraham Lincoln, and several wars before our time was up. Geez. What an AMAZING place. Then we drove till past midnight to get most of the way to our Sunday destination.

  

  

Sunday, we slept in and then had a much needed team meeting and then drove a couple more hours to Springfield Massachusetts, again- to longtime friends. Very sweet service last night- a ton of spontaneous music and then a long altar time... I think we were all really refreshed by having slept all night- oh.. and by SALSA. Once again, this blog reached to Mass, and my friend Kerri had spicy salsa awaiting, plus a bag of TRUFFLES. Holla.

Then a lot of late night catching up, and eventually a meltdown courtesy of Bean, and then sleep. Now you're caught up and I can go back to one day entries tomorrow. Sheesh.

BLOG DAY 7? 

Anybody out there? Been pretty quiet around here. Maybe I’m needy, but uh… comment. 

Today we’re driving to Virginia Beach. I think we’ve been on the road for about eleventy-jillion hours and about an hour and a half to go.

Yesterday we were at River of Life Church in Aiken, South Carolina.

(disclaimer: I am writing this blog under the influence of cold meds and my brain is all wicky-wacky)

We’ve been to this church a couple of times before, but this is the first time we’d done a non-youth event. We have been getting a pretty good seasoned citizen ratio these days. I’m not sure what that’s about, but some of my favorite people are seniors, so it’s all good.

Richy has been sharing our twin story some, and usually forgets to mention that I, the diminutive redhead at his side, am mother of his children. So people tend to assume that Hannah is the wife, and console her after the concert. Or, they assume that the wife is at home, or has run off with the sound guy, or whatever. Clearly, she is not standing right here.

 I know that traditionally, the husband plays the guitar and the wife plays the keyboard and sings specials. Those are traditional roles. We shake it up a little, and people just get confused. So it’s always entertaining to me to watch Hannah receive the comfort of the Lord.

Last night Leah got questioned extensively about how she lost the babies, and how she didn’t and wasnt she married to the guy on the stage (yes and no) and did the blue wash OUT of her hair or was it permanent and WHERE is the wife and so on.

Easily solved, folks. Point > to the wife. I’ll bring the MOG up to speed later, or if I forget, when he reads this blog. 

Day 6? St. Augustine, Florida

We arrived at St. Augustine Assembly of God at about 1 yesterday. We were being hosted by the music minister, and he met us there and fed us sandwiches and chips and such, and then we set up and played for a couple of hours- except I bailed and met an online friend… “What meanest thou this?” maybe you’re saying. “Isn’t that a good way to die?” you ask. Well, yes. I wouldn’t recommend as a general rule, meeting with internet friends?

But most of you have heard me talk about Hannah’s Prayer, an online community of Christian women experiencing infertility or pregnancy loss, etc. I joined HP a month or so after I lost the twins, and in many ways having those fellow sufferers saved my life. So I try to meet them in person whenever I hit their part of the States, and so I got to meet a friend of nearly 5 years in person yesterday, and it was so great. So I didn’t really set up or practice.
It was such an interesting service. Like I said, it was an Assembly- which usually means they’re a little nervous about us at first, and then they figure out that we’re all right, even if we trip out their upheld decibel meter, and it all works out. So that part happened. (oh, and we went to the beach for an hour or so)

Our crowd was probably half bluehairs (senior citizens and Leah) and teenagers who may or may not have wanted to be there. Multiple denominations were represented, including about 10 priests of various orders. We did our Sunday morning stuff at first- I Exalt Thee and such, and the crowd was SO locked in. I mean, they were really with us. So we gave them a little warning and then blasted into I Delight. There were a couple grannies on the side who were getting their groove on. Richy preached a pretty strong message, and then we did altar ministry, and then a healing line (which is my favorite).

After service, there was lasagna awaiting us, and an Anglican priest gave the blessing. It was kinda flowery, but MAN. The depths. That guy knows God in a way I don’t. When he finished praying, it was just quiet in there. In the words of my hippie parents, it was heavy, man. We stayed at his house last night, and it’s a 3 bedroom that he has basically set up to host as many guests as possible. What a servant. I don’t know what Anglicans believe, but I have no doubts about Father Brian. He is the real deal.

On the road now to Aiken, South Carolina. Arrival time in approximately 4 hours. We’ve been averaging about 6 hours sleep at night, so maybe a nap… may it be so.

We’re driving now, on the way to St. Augustine, Florida where we will play tonight. It’s a pretty easy trip- 4 hours or so.

Maybe you’re asking yourself- how is she blogging a)while driving and b)how can she have the internets in the van? Well, aren’t you a nosy little critter…
I’ll tell ya. A)I don’t drive at all, ever. I would drive this massive rig straight into a wall. Unintentionally. I may be smart, but I am dumb as a stick when it comes to driving, and I am a wee little lady and not capable of handling massive vans attached to massive trailers.
And B) I don’t have the internets. I am typing this on a word document and I’ll paste it when I get the internets. (there are actually 2 iPhones in the van, which both are online, and a wireless card which can be plugged into a laptop and get wi-fi acess anywhere. We are SO high-tech. ((none of them are mine, so don’t get your hopes up)))

Last night was amazing. The Front is a youth ministry- primarily upperclassmen and college age, I’d say- just really hungry and pressing in and WILD. We blasted the heck and it was uber fun. Worship was loud- those kids made it easy- and then their leaders did a little ministry and then Richy preached and we did altar ministry. That sounds like a long meeting, maybe you’re saying. 4 hours. And then IHOP(ancakes) till nearly 2 am. I am TARRED, to speak in the vernacular.

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didn't have internet for a day, so I am late on the ol' updating. Gotta try to catch up soon.

Mornin, bloggers. After a thrilling 6 hours sleep, we head out in 40 minutes for St Augustine, FL. Last night was one of my favorite ministry events... maybe ever. The Front is a youth ministry in Bradenton, Florida and those kids are AWESOME.

I'll have to catch you up later today when I get a good signal... Aslan's on the move and my suitcase is not packed....

(oh, and we went to such a GORGEOUS beach. Wow.)

Day 2, Anniston Alabama
Drove 4 hours from Nashville to AL. It was a pretty drive, but I am not really a scenery type. Pretty, though.

As soon as we arrived in Anniston, I started soaking up the accents. Oh, I have missed the South. You know how refreshing it is to walk in a room of strangers with a big “Howre y’all doin?” VERY refreshing, that’s how much.

We set up and practiced… that is like a half-sentence that takes 3 or 4 hours. Of course, I am limited in my crew abilities. I end up doing the little jobs like setting up mics and mic stands and plugging stuff in, and moving smaller cases. Oh, and keeping Brynn from getting smashed by massive speakers and such.

We travel with our own lights and sound system… it’s a real advantage to have a uniform setup every night. That sentence is an understatement that could be explained in years. I like to keep it a little more succinct here.

Saturday night, about …. I don’t know, 40-50 people? Kind of a generational gap- teens
and then like late 40’s and older. The pastor was not much older than us, but there were only a couple thirty-somethings as far as I could tell. Unusual range… anyways.

Worship, and then Richy had 4 or 5 prophetic words for people in the audience, and we prayed for people at the altar and wrapped up fairly early (I ♥ 6 pm services and no tear-down) and then they took us out to Logan’s, which is a steakhouse, peanuts on the floor place. And then it hit me. I am in the SOUTH. All the food is going to be awesome. So I had a lot of rolls, and steak. Bean had mac and cheese that she did not want, and my rolls and about half my steak. I love a baby that can eat. Then we went back to the hotel and crashed before midnight which was so awesome.

Sunday morning at the same church, more people. It was a pretty traditional crowd with the suits and ties and such, which was making me a little nervous, but we did our Sunday morning stuff, I Exalt Thee and Banqueting Table and such and they warmed right up to us. Richy told our twin story before he sang one song, and it really broke something in the room --- people usually take perspective after such a sad story and realize no matter what they’re going through- there is a reason to worship. Good stuff.

As I write this, we are heading toward Bradenton Florida. I may die from an overextended bladder. If I do, blame Coke Zero and whoever engineered this neverending freeway.

BLOG 5-1

Last night we played in Nashville, at the Fortress. These are the guys we worked with last year when we lived in TN for a month or so.

Richy got invited to go for the morning to a mountain in Chattanooga with our host and a couple of Brazilian apostolic guys- it was some kinda prophetic experience, but he has a blog if he really wants to explain all that. I stayed at the hotel - Bean and I had the continental breakfast- which she WANTED and DID NOT WANT very loudly.

Eventually the guys picked me up and we went to Walmart, in an insane deluge. I have never been rained on that hard, ever.

So, tensions were high in Wal-mart. There was a potentially demonized woman screaming at … I don’t really know. Whoever she was yelling to did a good job of not seeming to know her. “I TOLD you to get out HERE to the CAR it POURIN DOWN rain you got to get your random expletives it POURIN down rain you best LISTEN to me” and so on. Entertaining, in an alarming way.

We spent the rest of the day at the church, practicing (the guys) surfing the web (me) and charming EVERYONE (brynn) and texting Richy to see what 1 pm is in Brazilian time (3:45, if you’re curious)

It was a difficult breakthrough last night- typically that comes within a song or two and it was 30 or 40 minutes in… but man, the spontaneous stuff was good. Really ministry TO people which was refreshing. So we did our thing for an hour and a half or so and then other stuff happened.. Like, for example, a fire-breather. I don’t know… Scott (our host) pulled out some pretty good fire Scriptures to kinda tie it all together. Woulda been better if she had a costume or did a a dance or something. Or maybe that would have been weirder. I don’t really know. Brynn slept through the entire service, and teardown. Awesome.

So we had to wait until the event was over so we could tear down our gear, and ended up at the hotel after mindnight, and then up at 7 something to get ready for Alabama today. And that is where I will leave you, and read our assigned chapters and maybe figure out how to sleep in this van.

You know what's crazy? Yesterday was the anniversary of my dad's death. 9 years, I think. I forgot it until late at night when I glanced at the date. It's funny, because I have been thinking about it. He had his heart attack on the 26th and then died on the 30th, so I have been mentally cataloging the days, and then here it is and I forget it. Go figure. Luckily, there's no offense in heaven, so I'm sure he's not holding it against me.


I usually write poetry about him on the 30th, but I don't have anything this year- I'll link to some older stuff.
(when I was looking up links, I realized I did the same thing last year- right here in Nashville- let's blame it on Nashville.)
These are sad, but they are funny to me, too, because he was such a joyful character- my memories of him are laughter.

7 years
6 years
May 1st, 2000

We're still in Nashville, have ministry tonight and then leave here Saturday morning for Alabama, with a banjo on my knee.