On forgetting things

Michael Anderson, a memory researcher at the University of Oregon in Eugene, has tried to estimate the cost in time of forgetting things. "According to a decade's worth of "forgetting diaries" kept by his undergraduate students (the amount of time it takes to find the car keys, for example), Anderson calculates that people squander more than a month of every year just compensating for things they've forgotten." (National Geographic)"

I'm usually pretty good about remembering stuff. Over the years I've developed habits for putting keys on their hook, receipts in their file, and books on their shelves so that I don't waste a month of my life looking for them. Remembering is a skill that is helpful and necessary in my job. ("necessary" is a word I always forget how to spell!). As an assistant, a big part of my job is to help my boss remember various appointments, meetings, phone calls, and names. I have found that my ability to remember useless trivia like how to say the ingredients of a Big Mac sandwich backwards (it was a contest), has transferred over to being able to remember who mentioned that their wife might want to help head up the church picnic planning committee or what is the name of the 3rd child of that huge family that homeschools. It seems like God has a sense of humor about how he gives us ways to use our natural gifts.

Sometimes other people remember things involving us that we have no recollection of taking part in. Years ago, a woman who had just started coming to a Bible study I was involved in shared with our group that she remembered a day when I came in to the clothing shop she owned. As I was standing in line, a woman clearly cut in front of me. As she worked the register, she was surprised that I didn't make a fuss, but just let it go. I said something about how she must have been in a hurry, paid for my purchase, and went on my way without any sign of anger or malice. Something about it sparked her, and she wondered what made me different. She had come to know Jesus, and noted it as a signpost of sorts--God showing her a glimpse of a different way of living--one she later attributed to my living as a follower of Jesus. I had no idea of the impact at the time (I'm just usually weirdly patient in lines) and really no recollection of it, other than maybe a vague memory of being in the store.

I just hope I've forgotten more things like that.

Advice to the Young Me

Imagine....time travel has been perfected. And despite dire warnings about disrupting the whole space-time continuum, you are allowed to do it. The following restriction is given: You can only go back to one time in your life and you can only give yourself one minute of advice. What would you say? What advice would you give to the younger you? Would you tell yourself to be more grateful? More relaxed? Worry less? Exercise more? Eat dessert first? Would you warn yourself? Don't take that job. Don't marry that man/woman. Don't buy that house. Don't put off that doctor's appointment. Would you encourage yourself? Don't give up on getting your degree. Keep trying to get published. Be open to that relationship. I think I would go back to when I was 22, after my first child had just been born. We had been married about 3 years, and I had dropped out of college to work so we could get into a house and start a family. It was a time of beginnings and really entering adulthood. I can think of a few things I would say:

• Savor this time while your kids are young and don't hurry them or yourself so much.

• Start a journal and make yourself write in it.

• Wear a bikini now. It's only going to get worse and you'll kick yourself later for being so self-conscious.

• Don't ask 'what will people think?' as much as 'what do I think?'

• Spend less on stuff and give more away.

• You won't regret buying that boat. It will foster years of family fun and memories.

• Don't waste time working at what you don't really love or enjoy unless it's absolutely necessary. If it is absolutely necessary, ask God to show you something that makes it bearable and even enjoyable.

• Pray more. Read more scripture. Less rules. More love.

I realize as I read back over my list, that most of what I've listed is still good advice to myself now. Of course, the problem isn't in giving the advice--it's in taking it and putting it into practice. So, Self, listen up! You heard Yourself! Now just do it! There. And we didn't even cause any trouble with the whole space time continuum.

I know you're out there, blog readers! What advice would you give yourself? Special book prize goes to the most profound comment. Or the one I just like the best! Family members are not necessarily disqualified from winning, but get no special advantage either!

My Dear Body!

"Why, I say, should I ever have bitterly blamed [my body] for such trifles as I have blamed it for: for having too much flesh in this spot, too little muscle in that, for producing this wrinkle, that sag, that gray hair, or this texture? Dear body! My dear body! It has gone about its incessant business with very little thanks." ~Janet Burroway, quoted in O Magazine

Oh, but I am "bitterly blaming" it tonight. But not for trifles. Actually, after going to my mini-reunion Memorial weekend and seeing a few friends I went to school with 25 years ago, I felt like thanking it for holding up pretty well. There were no more wrinkles, sags or grays than anyone else--less than some. At the very least, I felt comfortable and confident in my body--something few of us feel when we are in our teens.

No, the outward 'trifles' are not giving me pain, but the inner workings are incessant in their complaints. For months now, I have been living with a nagging and restless pain in my neck and shoulder. Diagnosed at first as a pinched nerve in my elbow, then as muscular shoulder problems, and now as a damaged joint at the bottom of my neck, finding the source has felt like trying to hit a bullseye at a carnival. You think you've got the right pitch to score the big teddy bear, but there's something fishy about the whole set up that makes it just about impossible. Some days it feels like the doctors are about as competent as the 'carnies' running the midway, and I'm stuck going from booth to booth and giving out more money. I can't even imagine what it must be like to have a serious life-threatening illness.

I won't give you the boring details. I won't go into the emotional flare-ups that this sometimes ignites at times due to growing up with a parent who suffered chronic pain. I will say that God is there in the midst of it and it does keep me clinging, complaining, crying, and trusting Him when it gets to be too wearing.

It is why I haven't been writing much lately (well, that and I big women's event that I helped put on at my church). Physically, it's just not very good to be on the computer any more than I have to be. Mentally though, I'm missing the creative outlet. So, I plan to get going again. (Maybe it will inspire me to be more concise!) If you talk to God on a regular basis, mention me when you think of it.

Best Friends Forever

This weekend I head to Illinois with hubby, son, daughter and favorite son-in-law to spend some time with my parents, grandparents, and my sister's family. While it's going to be time focused on family, I'm most excited about going to my high school's alumni banquet. Open to anyone who has ever graduated from NCOE High School (Home of the Fighting Cardinals!), it's held every year over Memorial Weekend. My dad goes every year and tells me they honor the biggies-25 years (me? whoa!), 50 years, and probably others--I've never actually been before. While it's not really a full blown reunion since less than a dozen from my class will be going, I can hardly wait to see them.

I moved away from the small town I grew up in at age 18, after going to school there from kindergarten through Senior year. When I try to tell my friends who graduated from large schools (my husband's graduating class was 800), about the bonds of growing up with a class of 55, it’s hard to explain. We had so many shared experiences--the same teachers, same playgrounds, and same corner stores. We went to the same basketball games, took driver’s ed from the same instructor who had been our grade school gym teacher—we really grew up together in a shared small world. I tell them that many of my classmates were more like my close cousins. A few of them were like my extra brothers and sisters.

When I was in the third grade, I was in Mrs. Wood’s class, at the top of the wooden stairs on the second floor of the two-story elementary school. A new little girl was introduced to the class. Well, actually two little girls—twins. They had recently moved back to southern Illinois from a some strange place up north called Walled Lake, Michigan. They had rhyming first names as many twins do, and they were cute and smart and sweet. I was always concerned about kids that were new or struggling (My dad’s constant phrase during those years was, “Always try to be nice to everybody”), and decided I would be their friend. The oldest was a little more outgoing than the other, and we became friends quickly as I remember. Later that year, she stole my boyfriend (we’d been together since kindergarten!), but despite what I might have said teasingly over the years, I really didn’t care at all—I just like being her friend. We would go on to be “BFF’s”.

Her sister and I were friends too, although often not in the same classes (they usually separate twins) and so not quite as close. But, we two firstborn “bestest buddies” hung together as friends throughout our school years and beyond. She (along with her sis) was in my wedding and I played piano for hers. We visited each other occasionally over the years, even though many miles apart. Every time it seems like we just pick up where we left off, and we vow to do better on keeping in touch. But life tugs and pulls you in other directions sometimes, and mostly we only reconnect every few years.

It’s funny how our lives have flipped-flopped in many ways. While I married young and had my first child at 21, she finished college first, married, divorced (sadly, and with no children) and pursued a career. When my kids were in high school, she remarried a quite younger man (you go, girl!) and started a family. She was in Missouri then came back to live in southern Indiana only about 40 miles from where we grew up. And the funny thing is, I now live only a few miles from that strange city called “Walled Lake, Michigan”.

I looked up her number last week and left a message saying I would be at the banquet, and hoped she’d be able to come. I missed her call back, but enjoyed hearing the southern twang, that I’ve sadly lost most of by now, on voice mail saying, “I’ll be there!”

I’m so glad I was nice to her in third grade. And I’m so over boyfriend! See you soon, BFFTTE!

Sunshine with a Frappacino

Yes, it's another article on how coffee really is good for you! Come on, where else are you going to get this kind of helpful information? Where else can you glean vital facts to justify your reloading your Starbuck's card?

From the most recent issue of Good Housekeeping magazine, comes the information that "your daily coffee may help you fend off skin cancer." Researchers report that for every cup you drink per day, your chance of developing non-melanoma skin cancer later in life drops by 5%. A couple of Ventis per day would lower your chances by 30%. "It's possible coffee's antioxidant effect helps to protect against skin cancer," reports a professor from Detroit's Wayne State University School of Medicine. Of course the Michigander also admits that part of the benefits "may be that people who drink a lot of coffee tend to stay indoors more."

So, grab your frozen mocha frappacino or iced coffee and get out there and grab those few Michigan rays while we've got them! (Note: No French researchers were quoted during the writing of this article.)

People Who Make Me Happy!

"Let us be grateful to people who make us happy. They are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom" Marcel Proust

A short list of the charming gardeners in my life. (Forgive me if you're not on here. I love you too. It's not unabridged.)


My husband, who gets me and still likes hanging out with me after 25 years. Even if when I'm whiny. And just started playing electric guitar for fun. Quietly.

My funny, thinks-like-me daughter, who recently sent me this line in an email:

"you're super executive assistant woman! You can leap over tall stacks of bulletins in a single bound! You can generate multiple Google docs while counseling whiney parishoners! You can speak Pastor! The world of executive assistants to the pastor salutes you!"
(not that any of you are whiny....)

My son-in-law who uses words like "Ridiculous!" and "Amazing!" to describe anything he deems cool/fun/crazy and plays guitar beautifully and is just fun and at least does a good job of pretending he likes hanging out with us.

My dad, who still calls me 'a varmit'.

My mom, who calls me just to talk. A lot.

My sister who manages to be sweet and encouraging even while 8 hours away.

My sister-in-law who actually trusts me to give her child raising advice from time to time.

My mentally handicapped friend, Barb, who calls just to say she's excited about going bowling with a friend. And wears pants that say "I'm a keeper".

My boss (honest, I'm not sucking up...!), who can quote Seinfeld and The Office and Eugene Petersen and is willing to share enough hilarious stories about his daughters so we don't go nuts in the office.

My friend Amy, who laughs at my lame jokes and is willing to sing stupid songs with me. ("The greatest Sub of all...")

Forever grateful to you all.

"Laugh with your happy friends when they're happy; share tears when they're down. Get along with each other; don't be stuck-up. Make friends with nobodies; don't be the great somebody. (The Message, Romans 12:14-16)

Live the Mission Here

From a great article in this month's Relevant Magazine titled "Fake Plastic World" comes this quote from a group of people who spent 3 months in communist China. They were challenged not only in their misconception of China, but also their thoughts about "mission work" in general:

"Some redefined thought patterns have been the incarnational realization that love without mission is fake; mission without love is injustice; and if we are not reaching out right now wherever we are with love, mission and excellence of work, why would we sincerely do that in another country?"