Archive for August 9th, 2007

Pray

From early 2001 to 2005, I was a member of First Baptist Church, Hendersonville.  This is a huge church with something like 8,000 members.  I stopped going there because it was so gigantic.  I missed my smaller (not tiny, just smaller than FBC) congregation. 

My favorite part of First Baptist Hendersonville was the phenomenal preacher man there, Dr. Glenn Weekley.  I don’t know Bro. Glenn up close and personal.  I have exchanged some emails with him.  I emailed him the day after June Carter Cash’s funeral and commended him for keeping the whole thing under control at the end when it was beginning to turn chaotic.  Lordy mercy.   He is somebody I admire a ton and respect more than I can quite put into words.

In a big church like that, it’s almost impossible to have a close relationship with the pastor (why I went back to Bluegrass) however, Bro. Glenn is who I credit, besides the Good Lord, for my marriage being restored and still kicking to this day.  Bro. Glenn did a sermon series on marriage in 2001 and that helped things come back together at the Smiff House.  He was very encouraging to me through email and his words were very important then and now.  Bro. Glenn was just doing his job, but, he will forever be important to the Smiffs because of that.

After surviving two kidney transplants, Bro. Glenn is now facing pancreatic cancer.   His medical team feels like they have found the cancer in its very early stages and are very hopeful and because of that, they are really praying for healing.  I believe in the power of prayer and healing and if you do, remember Bro. Glenn Weekley in your prayers. 

You can hear some of Bro. Glenn’s sermons here

Back To Skoo

foggy-lens.jpgToday was sorta kinda the first day of school.  The Teens went to their schools for half a day, got schedules and went to all their classes.  #2 went for “Registration”, met the teacher and all that jazz. (You can see how hot it was today by the foggy lens)

We knew who #2 was going to have this year so that was not 4th-grade.jpga surprise.  It was kinda a bummer.  Like opening your presents Christmas Eve in a way.  That’s part of the excitement of the first day of school.  The Teens both had a hard time going to sleep last night.  Still get excited before the first day.  I used to get like that.  I still get excited for them.  Crazy huh? Even with a Sophomore in high school and 8th grader, I’m still anxious to hear what teachers they got. 

So, we go to the elementary school to shake and howdy with Mrs. Stewart.  For some reason, the fine folks at the Sumner County School Board or whoever makes these decisions didn’t think it would be a good idea to turn the air conditioning on since it was just registration and all.  Never mind it was 100 degrees outside.

I’m thrilled #2 has such a popular teacher.  One that lots of past students want to come by and say hey to.  I mean, that’s just hunky dory.  Problem is, these Muffia mothers who just insisted they go say hi to Mrs. Stewart don’t have jobs or anything else they had to do today.  They had all the time in the world to chat it up with Mrs. Stewart.  I wanted to take a minute and kinda give the teacher a heads up on #2’s very minor disability but no….Mary Muffia, adorned in her very fashionable outfit, complete with  cutesy flip flops and sunglasses perched ever so perfectly atop the perfectly coiffed hair had to catch up on the entire summer whilst I sat there seething.

I said out loud “Look at her, she doesn’t have anywhere she has to be…hey lady, I have a job!”  I am not lying. I said it out loud because I knew she wouldn’t hear a word I was saying cause she was running her perfectly lined lips.  I said all this while I fanned myself cause I’m perimenopausal and it was 110 degrees in there.  My chipper, first day mood was quickly leaving me.

I then  realized I’m always in a bad mood when I go to registration and usually gripe out loud cause of the fees.  There’s a $45 fee for the classroom and then there’s a $37 “Cultural Arts” fee.  They add that $10 PTO fee in that little bundle too.  I got ahold of myself when I realized I had not yet taken my morning Happy Pill and that I sounded like my mother and to stop it. 

Mrs. Stewart is best friends with Mrs. Smith, who was #2’s 2nd grade teacher.  Mrs. Smith adores her some #2.  She trev-and-mrs-smith.jpgcalled here a week or so ago and talked for an hour about #2.  It’s very sweet, really.  #2 has that affect on teachers.  Mrs. Smith even left a bag full of goodies on his new desk for him.  It makes a mom feel good to see her kid is loved by people outside the family.

The Manchild, who has been staying up til 3 and 4 in the morning this summer, came home and crashed.  I have told him he was going to have to readjust his Inner Elvis Clock and start going to bed and getting up at a decent hour.  He didn’t listen.

Spencers and Pervs

In Junior High and High School, our resident pervert was Marc(Hey Man)  Locke.  Marc was about 8 feet tall and wore his hormones on his sleeve.  He was a nice looking kid and really funny, except in band when he’d stick his drumstick up me and Kim Whitehurst’s butts. There we’d be, trying to follow the music in concert band so we could hit the bass drum (shut up. I rocked as a bass drummer) and at key moments, that Marc would strike.

We were in that classy store, Spencers, the other day.  This t-shirt made me think of Marc Locke…gynecologist.jpg

The reason that makes me think of Marc is cause he used to always say he wanted to be a gynecologist and then he’d laugh this evil, perverted laugh.  I remember I asked him one time “Marc…do you still want to be a gynecologist?” to which he replied “No.  My mother told me she’d be my first customer.”  Heh. 

Perverted though he was, Marc was a trip.  He wasn’t at our reunion a couple weeks back.  Seems Marc is the father of a daughter and she had a tournament ballgame or something.  I bet Marc doesn’t take too kindly to thoughts of young pervs messing with his daughter.

It’s a comfort to know some things in life never change.  Spencers is one of those non-changing things.  They don’t still have Cheryl Tiegs posters in the back but they still have purple lights, disco balls, Games to Play in Bed, and other useless crap. 

They also had this shirt of Uncle Willie, which I really want to get but I can’t wear it around the church folks…willie.jpg