Comedy of Errors

Some days I think if it weren’t for my sense of humor, I’d have a nervous breakdown.  Honestly, I wonder sometimes why everything I do seems to continue in the pattern of this unending comedy of errors.  Don’t get me wrong, it is never anything completely serious or life-threatening, it’s just a steady stream of tiny maddening nonsensical events that stretch out across my life.

Take, for instance, today….

As you will know if you live in our area, we’ve had an unheard-of amount of rain storms as of late.  The last several times we have mowed our grass, our lawn tractor has operated more like a boat than a mower.  We run outside the moment the sun tries to shine, and driving through mud puddles, we knock down the high grass as quickly as we can before the skies open up and pour down on us again. 

Well, today I was determined to properly cut our grass.  By “properly” I mean cut grass with the push mower around the house and the pool, trim around the trees, and finish the larger areas with the lawn tractor.  A gorgeous day with plenty of sunshine and a lovely breeze, I was ready to be outside basking in the glory of it, even if it meant I was bound for a hard day of manual labor.

When I first pulled the push mower out of the storage barn, I thought it seemed a little heavier than usual.  One flick of my finger against the grass catcher told me why.  Some moron hadn’t emptied the clippings from the previous mowing.  As I tugged and pulled on the grass catcher to free it from the machine, I was grumbling under my breath about what kind of lazy person wouldn’t finish a job properly…and then it dawned on me that no one else in my family had EVER thought to manually cut the grass with the cheap non-self-propelled push mower machine that Brian long ago labeled “Sandy’s mower.”  I guess the moron who didn’t finish the last job was me.  Oops. 

After finally getting the pieces put back together, I checked the oil, topped off the gas tank, and commenced to pull the little stringy doo-hickey thing that is supposed to start the engine.  After five pulls, I wondered why on EARTH no one had thought to invent a push mower with a key start. 

An overwhelming whiff of gasoline told me the blasted machine was flooded, so I waited impatiently before trying again.  Five more pulls, nothing.  Seriously, hasn’t anyone ever THOUGHT to invent a push-button start for a push mower?  Push-button / Push-mower…that would make COMPLETE sense! 

After pull #11 I determined that surely SOMEONE had likely invented an easier start mechanism that didn’t require a pull string and every ounce of my energy and dignity. 

After pull #12, I wondered why I did I not own one of those machines that someone MUST have invented. 

Finally, pull #13 (who says that number is unlucky?) brought the engine to a noisy sputter followed by a puff of grey smoke and the rotation of blades.  Success!

I puttered through the long wet grass, quickly making two passes around the swimming pool, and beginning the third.  Trying to push through the tingling weakness in my right arm from the abuse of the stringy doo-hickey thing, I inadvertently ventured a little too close to the pine tree, causing a lower branch to catch in the handlebar of my push mower.  Not to be deterred, I bent lower, and pushed with all of my might to free my machine from the grip of the tree, which finally broke loose from my forward motion.  The release of that branch caused a comedic event that from beginning-to-end could not have lasted more than one second, tops.  The freed branch flipped like a rubber band into my face, knocking my sunglasses into the air.  My left hand immediately went to the owie on my chin, my right hand shot up to grab my flailing sunglasses, and the gripper bar of the mower, now released from my white-knuckled grip, fell forward, instantly killing the mower’s engine.  I stood there for a breath or two as realization washed over me.  Then, dragging my push mower behind me, I trudged back to the storage barn, mounted the old trusty lawn tractor, turned the key, and voila…

I guess one more quick knock-down of the high spots won’t hurt anything.

Giggles & Laughs

If you haven’t already figured it out, lots of kids come to ride here, and with lots of kids comes lots of stories.  Kids say (and do!) the darnedest things sometimes.

One particular male rider, for example, is a kid who is brutally 100% no-question-about-it honest.  Always.  He says what he means and he means what he says, and you don’t have to ask if he’s joking because he’s not.  Here’s an example:  On a cool day last fall, I walked out to the barn wearing blue jeans, a purple and black striped blouse, and a purple corduroy blazer.  I remember the outfit distinctly because when I said hello to our guest, he did not respond with a hello, but responded instead with “You don’t match.”  It took me a few beats to figure out what he meant, and I am sure I looked at him with a puzzled expression.  He continued “Did you mean to put those colors together?”  I looked down at my outfit, and he again remarked “Your colors don’t match.”  I thanked him for pointing that out and made a quick mental note to never again wear that combination. 

Another frequent visitor makes us laugh every time he is here.  This kid is a riot!  After his first riding lesson, Cowboy gave him the distinct honor of picking manure from a stall.  After a few quick lessons in how to do the job right, the new student willingly took on the task.  A few minutes into the job, the boy crinkled up his nose.  “Ew (‘sniff’) smells like (‘sniff’) Mom’s meatloaf!”  A smiling Cowboy asked:  “So you’re mom’s not a very good cook?”  Still crinkling his nose, and adding a shake of his head he responded “Nope, not really.”

One prankster, while waiting for his sister to finish a riding lesson, was quickly getting bored.  Cowboy gave him permission to jump off the upper level balcony into the wood shavings pile in the arena below.  This is always a treat for our kids, so Cowboy thought it would be harmless fun for this little guy.  As Cowboy continued the riding lesson, he began to notice a moan following every jump into the shavings pile.  He decided to keep an ear tuned to what his little buddy was up to, and as he continued sister’s lesson, he noted footsteps going up the ladder, then a THUD, followed by a deep groan, but every time Cowboy turned around to look, little brother was rolling out of the shavings to climb the ladder again.  Finally, Cowboy asked big sister to stop riding for a moment so that he could turn to watch the action unfold behind him.  Come to find out, the daredevil was diving HEAD FIRST into the shavings, hitting the pile with a THUD, then groaning, he would lay for a moment to regain composure.  Cowboy of course put a stop to this nonsense and made a mental note to find level-ground activities for his buddy’s next visit. 

One student seems to always forget to tie the horse up before leaving the arena, and with each and every reminder of “Hey, did you forget your horse?”  The student responds, “Uh…yeah…well…I taught her how to stand still while I’m gone.”   

Last summer, I took a big bowl full of watermelon out to share with a few of our riders.  One jumped off his horse and high-tailed it to the table.  It seems he loves watermelon.  A lot.  While we stood together talking, eating, and spitting seeds, I asked him about his day at school.  “I broke up with my girlfriend,” he said.  “Oh dear,” I responded.  Thinking I might be able to lend an ear for a difficult discussion about relationships, I asked “Why did you break up?”  He looked up at me and answered, “She doesn’t brush her teeth.”  I choked on watermelon that day.

One day Cowboy pointed to the manure pile out back and asked a student to dump the contents of the wheel barrow.  He watched as the student rammed the wheel barrow as close as he could get it to the mountain of manure.  He wasn’t tall enough to get leverage to push the cart over, so Cowboy watched as the boy stood thinking for a minute, trying to develop a plan.  Finally, he tipped the cart up again, walked around the cart, climbed up ON the manure pile, and pulling the cart toward him, dumped the fresh manure down his jeans and onto his boots before it finally landed in place on the pile.  Proudly smiling at his personal achievement, he flipped the cart back to the upright position and headed back to the barn for another load. 

Our lesson horse Sassy has an incredible gas problem.  Her musical rhythms escalate to monumental proportion when she runs, and if you’ve never been near her when she sneezes…well…be glad.  It’s an explosion out of both ends!  These particular talents lend her the name “Gassy Sassy.”  For some students, it is embarrassing to ride her.  For others, it’s absolutely the funniest thing ever.  One day, as Sassy was running around the arena, a new student stopped dead in his tracks to watch and listen.  With a sudden burst of clarity he exclaimed “HEY! She sounds like my dad!” 

While talking to a student before lessons one day, I learned he had a lot of cousins.  In an effort to make conversation I asked if any of them went to the same school as he.  “Yes,” he admitted, “but there’s one family who just moved in.  They have the same last name, but they aren’t relatives.”  He stood silent for a moment, then continued.  “I really wish they would just go back where they came from.”  Shocked and curious, I asked him why.  “They’re just too nice.  They make the rest of us seem even MORE redneck than we already are!” 

Every now and then we come across quiet kids who rarely speak.  Some are shy and don’t want to talk; some just don’t have much to say.  When one girl began riding here, Cowboy thought he’d NEVER get her to talk.  She rode for several weeks without speaking, and Cowboy got a bit impatient, so one day tried a new approach.  Merciless teasing went on and on throughout her riding lesson. She would smile, but wouldn’t say anything.  As she prepared to leave that day, Cowboy shouted across the barn, “See ya later, Brat-a-cus!”  She stopped, turned back to look at him, and yelled, “Bye Old-a-cus!” Smiling from ear to ear, she turned on her heel and departed.  I’m not sure if Cowboy was more stunned by the comment or the sound of her voice, but he hasn’t had any trouble conversing with her since! 

At the end of one particularly giggly lesson, Cowboy was bidding farewell to a posse of girls.  He teased them by saying “I think from now on I’ll just call you my boys.  Can I call you my boys?”  One of them shrugged her shoulders and responded, “Can we call you grandpa?”

They say laughter is the best medicine.  If that’s true, then one thing is certain…our daily dose is high enough to keep us healthy for a very long time!

You are Loved

I took an incredibly heavy heart to bed last night, and I begin this day and this post with it just as heavy.  In my quest to pour out my heartache to the Lord through my writing, I’ve concluded that this post must be specifically directed to pre-teen and teenaged kids.  

Today there is no room for silly quips and funny names, because this is serious stuff and I hope all of you take note.  This is for you.    

In this adventure of daily living with all of you, our “adopted” kids, Brian and I receive a lot of joy.  Each and every one of you knows you can come to us and receive a hearing ear.  You can tell us anything, ask us anything, and we will share in your joys and heartaches.  But the joy is the easy stuff, right?  What about the hard stuff?  What do you do with all that junk? 

That junk (the bad stuff) is what we call a “Jordan.”  It’s like a huge river that is too deep, too wide, and seemingly impossible to cross, but with a little help from your true friends and God, you can cross that Jordan to experience the incredible blessings that are waiting for you on the other side.

In your lives you are going to experience some pretty gnarly “Jordan’s”.  Maybe you already have.  There are choices to be made every single day, and those choices can have life-long impact.  Each decision you make has a consequence.  Each consequence affects your life.  Maybe for just a day; maybe forever. 

So how do you know you’re making right choices?  Sometimes the choice might be hard at the time, but deep down inside you know the answer.  If you go with your gut, it’s usually right.  Sometimes maybe your gut doesn’t really know, and you end up making a wrong choice out of ignorance or inexperience.  That’s okay.  You will get another chance to make that one right.  But the BIG ones are the ones you KNOW in your heart are wrong and you do it anyway.  These conscious wrong choices only lead to further heartache.

Take, for example, drugs.  All of you know in your hearts you should not experiment with these things, right?  I mean, seriously…haven’t you heard all of your life that drugs are bad and you should leave them alone?  Of course you have.  But when your best friend encourages you with “come on, just this once, no one will know…aren’t you curious what it will feel like?” 

This is a big Jordan, guys.  This is where your decision will make or break your reputation, and possibly your entire life. So, what’s it gonna be…your friend, or your convictions?  Think for a moment…what are the possible short-term consequences? 

1.  if I side with my friend, no one ever has to know…it will be just once…what can it hurt?

2.  if I side with my convictions, I’ll make my friend mad and he/she will probably laugh at me, make fun of me, and call me lame. 

Neither of these possibilities sound so great, right?  But let’s look at long-term consequences:  

1.  You get caught.  Someone is watching that you didn’t know was watching and they snitch…or your friend gets pulled over for rolling through a stop sign on the way home and the cop notices something just isn’t right.  What happens?  You’ve just walked right up to an even BIGGER Jordan.  You’re in deep trouble.  You spend a long and intense night at the local jail waiting for your parents, who will likely never trust you again, your school gets the news, teachers start watching your every move, you get labeled a trouble maker, get kicked out of sports, and your peers all laugh at your lameness for getting caught.  But wait…wouldn’t they have laughed at my lameness for not doing it in the first place?  Yeah.  True friends?  Not in my book. 

Now let’s move on to the next possibility. 

2:  You don’t get caught…which is worse.  Why?  Because you will think “why not try it again?  It was a bit of a thrill and I’m in control.”  You can easily stop doing this when you want to, so it’s no big deal, right?  Wrong.  Some people can’t stop.  Some have a chemical predisposition in their bodies that cause them to become addicted to stuff immediately.  Does your body have that?  How do you know?  You don’t know.  You don’t know until you try it, and if you try it, it may just be too late.  Then how will you stop?  You won’t.  You can’t.  Not without professional help, and even then the chances are very slim.  And this little trip brings you to likely the biggest Jordan you could have ever imagined in your life.  Your grades begin to slip, you lose interest in all sports and activities, parents begin to wonder why they can’t trust you, teachers start watching your every move, you get labeled a trouble maker, and your peers all laugh at your lameness for being a druggie.

Hmmm…anything sound familiar there?  Yep, this is the deal guys…get it through your heads…In this situation YOU WILL BE LABELED LAME NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO.  But in the beginning, at the very first choice, saying NO could’ve made you lame for like 1 week.  Maybe 2.  The other choice makes you lame for a lifetime…years and years and years.   

Get this:  YOU NEVER HAVE TO GO BACK AND CHANGE A RIGHT ANSWER.

It’s kind of like a long algebra problem with lots of steps.  If you start with a wrong answer, the next step is harder, and then because that one is wrong, the next step is even worse, and the whole thing is one huge mess by the time you get to the end.  That’s when horror strikes, because you have to start ALL OVER and do the whole thing AGAIN!

But if that algebra problem starts with the correct answer, it’s smooth sailing…and you never have to start over or fix anything.

Let’s move away from the drug example for a minute and talk about premarital sex.  Awkward?  You bet.  Get over it…we’re talking about it here and now.

The boys often get picked on when it comes to these kind of examples, and I don’t think that’s fair, so I’m stepping outside of the box:  Let’s say you have a new girlfriend.  You’ve been dating for about 2 weeks (if that long) and she pipes up and says “Just so you know, I don’t plan to “wait” for marriage, are you okay with that?” 

So we come back to your decisions.  What’s it gonna be?  Your reputation or your conviction?  Short term consequences:

1. You can side with your girlfriend and be the big man on campus.

2. You can side with your convictions, make the girl mad, and your friends will hear all about it and call you lame.

Decisions, decisions.  What are you gonna chose?

Long term consequences: 

1.  You get caught.  Either by a protective-yet-clueless daddy who now wants to take your head off for “hurting his sweet innocent little girl” or by getting the girl pregnant.  Oh wow, this is good stuff here.  Aren’t you glad you chose to be big man on campus?  I mean, you’ve got a rip roaring stinking mad father breathing down your neck on one side, or you have a baby that is yours to take care of for 18+ years.  All for one night of thrills.  Isn’t this lovely?  And guess what?  Your friends (who thought it was really cool at first) either don’t want to hang out with you because Big Daddy is always breathing down your neck (why would they want to fight your battles?), or they want to hang out with you and you can’t…because you have to work…because you have a baby to take care of.  Guess what else?  You are now lame for either one of those reasons. 

Are you beginning to see the cycle yet, guys?

You are going to be labeled lame for any right decision you make, but I’m going to stress this again:  YOU NEVER HAVE TO GO BACK AND CHANGE A RIGHT ANSWER!

Now let’s say you’ve had some things happen throughout your life that just flat aren’t fair.  Maybe you’ve done nothing except deal with the consequences of someone else’s wrong decisions.  The examples are endless.  Divorced / unwed parents; absent fathers / mothers; dead fathers / mothers; drug-addicted or alcoholic family member; maybe your struggle is more intense…maybe you have been violated sexually and are trying to cope.  Those kids up there^ who are dealing with every-day choices when it comes to drugs and/or sex have it easy, don’t they?  They think it’s rough living in their shoes, what if they tried walking in yours for just one day?  

Your history and your life is horrible, and I am so very sorry you are dealing with the junk that goes with that.  Your Jordan is big and strong and deep, and you can’t possibly cross it alone.  Find help for your situation, please.  Find help.  And when you have found good solid adult help, focus on this:  Happiness is a choice, and it is one you must consciously and continuously make every day of your life.

Life will deal blows to you for the rest of your walk on this earth.  You will have some small Jordans and some big Jordans.  Life is never easy for anyone, and for some it’s harder than most.  This is where your choices have the biggest impact on the rest of your life. This is where you must decide to claim your life for yourself.  This is where you must create your own destiny.  Stop living the life someone else has mapped for you.  It’s history.  Start living the life you want NOW.  Cross that Jordan and find peace.

A very wise young woman, who I never had the opportunity to meet, once wrote “Live the life you love; love the life you live.”  She grew up with hard knocks most of you will never experience, and she made a conscious daily decision to be happy.  Her world didn’t move her, so SHE moved her WORLD.  She was right where she wanted to be, and her life was GOOD!  One tiny bad decision ended her life in the blink of an eye.  This is how fast it can happen.  One blink.  What will you choose?

Are you happy?  Could you be happier?  What single thing can you change to make yourself happier?  You have but one spin on this planet, and God has the ultimate plan for you. You will stand at the edge of many Jordans, but with each RIGHT decision, your blessings will grow, while each WRONG decision will take you to a bigger more difficult Jordan.

Cross your Jordans wisely.  Find a true friend in an adult who can aid you and mentor you.  Embrace the blessings God has for you on the other side of every big decision.  You will never regret choosing happiness.

Now finally, know this:  You are a treasure.  A worthy, golden, incredible, awesome creation.  It takes the good stuff and the bad stuff to make you who you are, and God did not create you without a purpose.  Find it.  Embrace it.  Feel it.  Know it.

You are loved.