"So, how old ARE you?"
This was not the first time I’ve been asked this. Being a young teacher, this was a common question, usually from parents who were 10-15 years older than me. Now, being self-employed and meeting new people all of the time, I find the same question is common. This happened just recently to me in two different situations. In one situation Jason and I were the youngest two by about 10-15 years, at a table for a business dinner. Of all of the questions and topics to bring up at dinner, apparently our age "made the cut." I should take it as a compliment, but the tone of the questioner uses does not typically allow me to take it as such.
I have to be honest, I HATE that question.
Having a business in which we are encouraging others to change the way they think and act, we are an easy target for this question. "What could we possibly know about Adulthood, let alone "Escaping Adulthood?" 
You know by looking at me that I am not 45. So, whether I am 26 or 36, what does it matter? I love, too, how this question is somehow appropriate to ask someone younger that you, but rude if you ask someone older than you. Can you imagine? I’m sitting next to someone twice my age at a business dinner. I lean over, crinkle my nose and ask, "So, how old ARE you?"
We ALL belong.
Our age should not matter.
Jason reminded me of this verse which is encouraging in these situations.
Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity. 1 Timothy 4:12
Amen to that!
Kim and I are in Palo Alto this evening, the heart of Silicon Valley. Tomorrow we’ll head north to Modesto for a business conference at which I’m speaking. Amidst all of the traveling and all the neat places we’ve been, I’ve discovered that the best part of it all has to do with people.
Yesterday, we were able to meet up with our best friends from Madison who are coincidentally in California on vacation. We were able to spend the afternoon together, standing on the edge of the Pacific ocean, driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, and staring up in awe at the mighty redwoods in Muir Woods.
Tonight we had dinner with the folks who were hosting us, and heard great stories about their families and RV adventures. Although it was the first time we met them, it felt like we were among family. Also joining us was their niece Heather who lives in Alaska serving as a charter boat fishing and sightseeing guide, kayaking instructor, and overall outdoor expert.
Then after the speaking engagement, we had dessert with some folks whom we met when we were out here last January. It’s so cool to have the opportunity to connect with people all over the country, so that when you come back again, in a small way, it’s like coming back home. I made a commitment years ago to chase this dream no matter what. I never considered that the greatest blessing of the journey would be the people I’d meet along the way.
That’s how life works. And I guess that’s what they mean when they say that it’s all about the journey, not the destination.
So the other day Kim and I were in Indianapolis and we came across the most childlike priest I have ever seen. I’m not sure if anyone is completely Adultitis-free, but this guy sure was as close as they come. At the beginning of his sermon, he had all of the children (probably close to 90 in all) come to the front of the church and sit on the steps near the altar. Fr. Paul’s back was to the congregation as he addressed the kids. He began talking about water. Then he went off to the side of the church, temporarily hidden by the baptismal font. He emerged, to the delight of all of the children and many of us in the crowd, with a Super Soaker water gun. He had a few questions for the kids, and warned them that he’d squirt them if they gave a wrong answer. He asked them for examples of how God used water in the Bible. One by one, with eyes the size of dinner plates, children gave out answers. Intermittently, Fr. Paul squirted water down the main aisle, and to the side of the church, teasing the churchgoers.
After the pop quiz was over (none of the kids got soaked), Fr. Paul dumped a bin of small holy water vials into the baptismal font and instructed the kids to fish one out to take home with them. And there he was, helping the little ones who couldn’t quite reach. With the kids back in their seats, he turned back to the congregation, finishing his sermon on the theme of water. It all tied together perfectly.
While I sat there amazed, I knew there were some people sitting in the church who were probably appalled, thinking, "How dare he bring that into the church!"
What a shame.
While I don’t think church needs to try and compete with MTV as an entertainment option, I don’t know where we got the idea that religion must be stodgy. If you look closely at the Bible, Jesus was actually quite innovative when it came to teaching people about God. It was the Pharisees that stuck to a rigid, oppressive, and humorless approach to religion. Jesus wasn’t a big fan of those guys. He taught that God certainly has a serious side, but that He’s also playful, creative, and pretty unorthodox.
Those are the types of priest, preachers, and pastors we need more of.
Technorati Tags: priests, Catholic church, Jesus, faith, Pharisees, childlike faith
The first memories I have with my Dad start when I was about three-years- old. In honor of his birthday, Monday, April 24th, I would like to share with you a special memory for each year of my life. This list reminds me how important it is to take time for the people we love. My Dad has blessed my life with so many wonderful moments and memories…and many more to come!
Age 3- I sat with my Dad on the riding lawn mower and helped him cut the grass.
Age 4- My first ring was given to me by my Dad. Every once in a while he would smoke a cigar and give me the paper ring, which I proudly wore on my finger.
Age 5- We’d work to make an audio tape for my grandparents each Christmas. My Dad ran the mic and gave us ideas of what to sing. He’d even interview us.
Age 6- My Dad called me his “helper.” I was his electrician apprentice. I followed him around the house “helping” him with projects.
Age 7- We went fishing at Coval Creek. We got up very early. We bought minnows and worms. Dad baited the hook for me.
Age 8- We’d dance to my sisters’ piano and organ music. He taught me the box waltz.
Age 9- He set up a CB radio that my sister and I would talk to him on during his ride home from work. His CB name was The Happy Hobo. I was Charmin. 10-4.
Age 10- We played PIG and HORSE in the driveway. He was so good at basketball. I wasn’t.
Age 11- He taught me how to play Euchre.
Age 12- He was one of my biggest fans, cheering and encouraging me at my volleyball games.
Age 13- He wrote me notes encouraging me, which I would find on the kitchen counter in the morning before school.
Age 14- He asked the questions that every good parent should, to make sure I was safe and making good choices.
Age 15- He took me to the HS parking lot to teach me how to drive. He was so patient and supportive…and brave.
Age 16- He’d celebrate with me during the volleyball victories and cheered me up when I was disappointed with my performances.
Age 17- He took the time to get to know Jason when he first came around. This meant a lot to me.
Age 18- We’d go for after-dinner swims together in the pool.
Age 19- He’d check my car to make sure it was safe as I drove to junior college. He tried hard to teach me all I need to know about car maintenance. I was a tough student.
Age 20- He saved quarters for my laundry at college. Every time I came home he had a stack for me, along with a bunch of pop to bring back to school with me.
Age 21- He always encouraged me in my schooling!
Age 22- He walked me down the isle on the happiest day of my life and danced with me at our wedding reception.
Age 23- He made “Cowgirl” chili for us girls who couldn’t stand the heat of the “Cowboy” chili.
Age 24- We went on a road trip together to TX.
Age 25- We enjoyed the lake view and fireworks in Madison together.
Age 26- We squeezed in some late night Euchre with chips and salsa.
Age 27- We laughed together watching Little Rascals and playing with my nieces and nephews together.
Age 28- We worked together to set up and take down, for my sister’s bridal shower.
Even though I was the 4th daughter, I have always felt like my Dad’s princess. Thanks for all of these wonderful memories, Dad! Happy Birthday!
Kim and I are on the first leg of a four state, thirteen day, nine speaking engagement whirlwind. Tonight finds me in a hotel in Indianapolis. I spoke to a group of adults this morning, and about 100 teenagers this evening. Tomorrow is another group of grown-ups, followed by a family presentation. Kim and I like to play a game where she says, "Gun’s to your head: where are you?" Today I passed the test with flying colors, but it might be tricky in a week.
A few weeks ago, Kim blogged about her search for a hobby. Crochet won the day, and it seems to be a good fit. A fellow by the name of Rabbi Dale (also known as Webmaster Santa) posted a comment that pointed out that Kim already did have a hobby: walking.
Many people equate hobbies or even prosperity to physical things; this is really not the case. You mentioned walking, walking is a great hobby. In all the travels you and Jason have done, you might have walked down certain streets or by certain landmarks. As you walked you have collected memories of places as like my father and mother used to collect souvenirs of places we have gone. Those souvenirs are long lost but the memoir of the walks and hikes I have been will remain with me and in the stories I tell will last longer than long.
You know, he’s absolutely right. One of my favorite things about the traveling we’ve done is the memories we’ve collected. They really are priceless. We had a great chance to indulge in our hobby yesterday in Downtown Indy. After doing some work in our hotel room, we sought out the highly recommended Canal Walk, and went for a 3 mile stroll. I’ve always maintained that walking is the best way to get a feel for the city, and this was no exception. It was a beautiful spring evening, and a perfect time to talk and laugh and dream.
I’m sure we could have spent a lot of money doing or buying "stuff," but the memories are what really matter. It’s easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of life, forgetting that the time shared with friends, family, and loved ones is the stuff life is made of. And the best hobbies are the ones that are shared. You can crochet a million afghans, but they can never match the value of a life sewn together with a patchwork of happy memories.
Technorati Tags: Indianapolis, hobbies, hobby, crochet, walking
If you have an Easter basket jammed with sugary confections (sans the favorites that didn’t make it past the first round), you may be wondering: which of these candies is worth the calories? Thankfully, there is a Candy Blog, written by Cybele May, which offers up in-depth reviews of hundreds of different kinds of candy. It features old classics and new creations (Have you tried the Ice Cream Skittles?) The 10-point scale deems candy as "Tasty", "Unappealing", and even "Inedible." I myself was impressed with the thoroughness of the reviews; I doubt you’ll find a more authoritative guide anywhere.
I highly concur with the "Yummy" rating of my favorite Easter candy of all time, the Reese’s Peanut Butter Egg.
And since we’re talking candy, you may want to check out my previous posts on Peeps and Old Time Candy.
Technorati Tags: Easter, candy, Reese’s, Peeps, chocolate
Every month, one Club K&J subscriber is drawn as the winner in the Supremely Wonderful & Exciting Loot Lottery. This month’s lucky recipient is Tami Vieth! She wins an autographed Adulthood Stinks t-shirt! Congrats, Tami!
Join Club K&J for your chance to win this month’s prize Loot Lottery!
I’m reading a pretty good book right now by Mike Mason called The Mystery of Children, What Our Kids Teach Us About Childlike Faith. He has a passage about children and stories that really struck me:
Children and stories are inseparable because children live stories. Adults tend to live in their heads, relentlessly analyzing. But children experience life directly. To children, life is a story in which they are the main character.
Adults, not content to simply be characters, want to be the author of their story. Being part of a story means surrendering control, but we like to think we can control our world, or at least a good chunk of it.
Maybe that’s why it’s so easy for us grown-ups to find life so stressful and difficult at times. Maybe we need to do a better job of living our story.
Technorati Tags: The Mystery of Children, Mike Mason, stories, childlike faith
