Labor Pains

I watched you from the dusty window.
I watched you from across the street.
The roar from the mower came through to me
above the chatter from the TV.
I wondered why you were outside,
playing in the fresh grass
instead of inside playing with me.
Your arms flexed as you pushed a car
across the church's front yard.
I tried to tell you,
'just let the grass grow'
but you didn't listen.
Years have gone by, and now I am you,
cutting my church's grass
to make the church look like new.

One Leads to a Thousand

Reach out your hand to those who need.
Hug those who are alone.
Give to those who have nothing to own.
Tell someone of Jesus who has never heard his name.
Start your mission, claim the name, Child of God.
It starts with one; It starts with you.
One leads to a thousand.
Lives will change, we will know His name.

June 7. 9 P.M. Eastern Standard Time

~Base on a true story~

The dark theatre filled with the applause of a thousand crazed fans as the touring cast of RENT took their final bows. Adrenaline rushed through my veins as I took one last look at Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp before the lights were turned back up and the cast walked off stage.
“That was the most amazing thing ever,” I tell me mom with a sparkle in my eyes.
She smiles and hands me the brown bag of souvenirs we had bought before the show.
We walked slowly through the crowd and through the door of orchestra one.
“Look! A backstage person,” Mom points to a woman. “Let’s talk to her.”
“No,” I protest. Before the word even left my mouth, Mom was walking towards the woman. I followed after her relentlessly, but hopeful.
“Um, hello,” Mom said to the woman.
The woman stepped forward to us, pushing her blond bangs away from eyes. “Hey. Can I help you?” she asked, her thick, Australian accent surprising me.
“My daughter here,” Mom starts, “is RENT’s biggest fan. We drove eleven hours from Alabama to see this play.”
“Really?” the woman asked.
I smiled at her accent.
Mom lowered her voice to a whisper. “Is there any way you could let her backstage and meet the cast?”
“Mom!” I exclaimed.
The woman laughed. “I can’t do that. But, around the back of the building, under a green canopy, most of the cast come out and sign autographs.”
“Thanks!” Mom and I cheered. We ran around the building to find the green canopy.
We walked quickly through the crowd in hope to get just a glimpse of someone. We found an opening in the crowd and I inched my way up to the front.
“Stay off of the sidewalk!” a man in a tux yelled, trying to look FBI.
The crowd ignores him, only getting larger and expanding half way across the street.
Minutes later, the crowd cheered loudly as they saw the chick who played Maureen walk out of the door. She made her way around the circle, signing posters and taking pictures with fans. She got around the circle to where I was and signed my Playbill, Nicolette Hart.
Then, Anthony Rapp makes his way out of the door. The crowd jumps up and down and he smiles.
I watched him make his way around, signing posters and programs and copies of his book.
Hurry up and get here! Hurry up and get here, I think to myself.
He made his way around to my side of the crowd. My heart starts to beat a thousand times a minute and my knees started to tremble. Anthony Rapp inched his way in front of me.
I handed him my copy of his book, Without You, and watched as he autographed the title page.
Anthony Rapp is standing one foot away from me, I yell in my mind.
He hands me the book and reaches right over me to autograph someone’s program.
It felt like years had gone by and I wanted to say something to him just in case I never got the change again. “Have time for a quick hug?” I asked him cautiously.
He laughs. “Can’t. One leads to a thousand.”
That was all I heard before my senses shut down and I stopped hearing him.
He finished his autographs and stepped to the side to keep signing.
My brain clicked on. Picture. I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and snap a picture while he was still one or two feet away.
Anthony Rapp finishes his autographs, and the FBI wannabe yelled, “That’s it! We are done!”
The crowd wined, but scattered off to live there lives.
Mom takes my hand and guides me through the crowd. My heard was beating faster than it ever had and slower than it ever had all in the same moment. I hugged Without You to my chest and peacefully rode home with the words, “one leads to a thousand” repeating in my head.

((Not finished))

He calls me beautiful.
He calls me precious.
He tells me everything that I want to hear.
Then he leaves me wishing at the wishing well.
He was my soul, my life, my everything,
but I guess things change.
'Cause he walked out right out of the door,
and left me on the floor.
The tears hit the ground
and crash into the ocean.
He leaves me beaten and bruised,
I guess he never really cared enough to care.

Better than Google

Today, at church, my mom was talking about Doubting Tom. Thomas, that is. But what does he doubt? No, what do we doubt?

My mom always comes to me for help with her sermons. She says I am better than Google: all you have to do is type in the scripture and hit my head, then out pops illustrations for her sermons.

Last night, she used my Google powers. We had just dropped Luke off and we were on our way back home. She turned to me in the car and asked, "Laurie, what do you doubt in Jesus?" I looked at her for a second, then said, "I don't doubt Jesus."

She looked at me like she couldn't believe I have just said that. A minute or two of silence goes by when she finally asked if I was serious. "I am dead serious," I said. "I have nothing to doubt. That's Jesus, of course. I doubt the world."

"Everyone doubts the world," she said. "What do you think people doubt about Jesus?" She asked.

"I don't think it is Jesus, as much as the church," I responded.

Once again, in pure shock, she looks at me and doesn't say a word. Finally she said, "Okay. What do they doubt in the church?"

"They doubt the church family. They doubt that the church family will be there for them. The church doubts that they will make a difference in some one's life. They doubt that what they say matters. They doubt themselves, really, in the fact that they don't think that what they say will bring someone to Jesus."

So, my whole point in telling you this, is don't doubt Jesus. And don't give an unchurched person a reason to doubt the church. We as Christians have to be God's welcoming committee. We have to welcome people into the church and more importantly, into the body of Christ.

However, on the flip side, doubting is really just questioning. And anyone who really just wants to ask God questions will have a strong faith because they are seeking Him.

It's like Hide N' Seek, only He isn't hiding.

May 10

I wrote this for my mom.
Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers out there.

Please, don't kill your kid.


You are my role model, tour guide and light.
My hero, my inspiration and my sense.
You bless me with your wisdom.
You protect me when I am in need.
You are my care taker when I am sick,
And my negotiator when I am in a tight spot.
You are my Wal-Mart and my ATM.
You are my strength when I am week.
You are all that and more, Dear Mother.

05/01/09

Why is fate so cruel?
It brought me to you,
but it keeps us apart.
It gives me a taste,
then takes it away.
I always want more.
More of your hugs,
more of your love.
More of what I long for.
You are the grass under my feet,
and the clouds above my head.
You are the world I want to live in.
You are mine,
and I am yours.
We are together as one.