Page 160 of 312

the beauty rut known as 1998

May 9, 2012 / Michele Minehart

Yesterday, as I was painting Miss M’s 2-year-old toes for the first time, I realized I was introducing her into the world of beauty products. She already insists upon a powdered nose as I’m dusting my own, and she now bears her own Maui Mango, my go-to polish color by OPI. Later, through conversation with my stylist, I realized that what I was really doing was pulling Miss M down into the rut of cosmetics which I seem to have planted myself. For example:

A. I’ve been going to Maui Mango as a stand-by for at least 10 years

B. Clinique’s Glow Bronze has been my only lipcolor for 9 years

C. I’ve added a coat of Hint of Shimmering Sandstone on for 16 years. Yes. Another person could have been born and gained a driver’s license in the amount of time that I’ve worn the same lipgloss.

D. I still have a pair of jeans in my closet – that I break out when the laundry is high – that were purchased 9 years ago.

E. My favorite pair of sandals are a 2nd gen of the prototype bought 10 years ago this summer. So my average is better on footwear at a 5 year rate.

F. When I recently cleaned out my drawers, I tossed undies from 15 years ago. There is simply no excuse.

G. I’ve not had a haircut in 15 years that didn’t include layers of some sort. Small hair victory: there was a season in which I had some streaky highlights.

Clearly, I’m in need of being beautified to the standards of, oh, this decade. Century, in some cases. Here’s what I believed happened: I went to college and lived with some cute girls who beautified me. I graduated college happy with “my look.” For the next 10 years I continued to think, “if it’s not broke, don’t fix it.” Then I blinked and saw everyone wearing skinny jeans, making my bootcut the New Mom Jean. The blinking turned to crying. Smearing my Glow Bronze down my chin.

Now if someone can offer a solution that doesn’t require me spending a lot of money in order to not look like 2001, I’d appreciate it.

*This blog was in no way sponsored by What Not To Wear. But if the shoes still fit…

a prize every time

May 8, 2012 / Michele Minehart

For the past 2 weeks we’ve attended a church and both JJ and I have left happy; we get in the car and courageously ask the other, “so…. what did you think?” and wait for the shoe to drop. But, thankfully, we breathe a collective sigh of relief when the other says, “I really enjoyed it!”We’ve decided to keep going. (Unfortunately the summer is fast approaching, when our participation wavers greatly as we spend time at the lake. Each of us has a cross to bear.)

But what has been striking about this church is the free stuff. Now, I’m all about prizes and giveaways. I once shared that the free bagels awaiting me at the finish line prompted me to actually complete my second half marathon. I was one of those kids who walked around the fairgrounds collecting whatever my good elected officials willingly gave away.

However, this church has taken the gifting to a new level. H Boy got a t-shirt (which he’s insisted upon wearing, 3 sizes too big), we had a fresh baked loaf of bread, fake flowers, an entire information packet, and a beanie baby handed to us in person. The first week we got a kind note from the pastor. And a gift card for gas.

Yes, gas. Now, having sat through a multitude of staff meetings, I’m 97% positive I know how the decision to offer this gift was made:

Church Secretary: The hospitality team is running out of people willing to make pies for new visitors. They can’t seem to get the pie made in time and then dropped off because we don’t have their information and by the time the pie is ready and they have a name and address, it’s a very socially awkward situation.

Pastor: Well, can’t we buy a pie from somewhere here in town?

Staff person C: What if they’re diabetic? It’s not very nice to send them to a place they can’t eat anything.

Staff D: And then we’re just wasting money.

Pastor: Well, what about a gift card to somewhere else?

Church secretary: Perhaps Walmart? Everyone can find something at Walmart. And then they can pick out a nice gift themselves.

Staff person C: Walmart is of the devil.

Staff D: And what if they buy cigarettes. We don’t want to be enablers.

Pastor: Oh heavens. Well what does everyone need?

Church secretary: How about a gas card? It’s so expensive nowadays. And Speedway makes them redeemable for only gas.

Staff person C: How practical!

Staff D: And now, in other business. Moving the organ….

So, the practical side of me gave a bit of grace for this seemingly strange welcome gift.

But we got another letter this week from the pastor, with another gift card! This time DQ got the nod and we’re set to go for some Hot Eats and Cool Treats, or as the pastor mentioned in the card, take a friend for some fun. Which would be fun. If we had friends.

I really appreciate the lengths at which this church will go to help us feel welcome. I appreciate their hearts, so I don’t want to poke too much fun. I would venture to say the Visitor Gift might be the plight of all hospitality teams. But having married Mr. Hospitality himself, JJ raised his eyes a bit to the attempt. And we both are asking: at what point are we no longer new and the free stuff stops?

I think, in my nature of contemplating all things normal people tend to just write off, the reason it sits wrong is because a gift card – especially for something so practical – (sort of) misses the point of hospitality. We’re not looking for a free anything – we just want a church family. And in the church’s defense, it isn’t looking to just give stuff away. I think it’s just trying to figure out what hospitality and welcoming feels like now that society no longer lives a neighborly way of life. And the equation sits unbalanced. Until you’re actually looking for a church (something few to none of all pastors have done, I would guess), you don’t actually know how to walk in those shoes.

I wish I could offer something concrete rather than criticisms (because honestly, that’s not fair).

The DQ thing does sound like fun (though, to Staff Person A’s critique, we’re not eating a lot of dairy nowadays), and eating out in any form is a treat. You will always win this household with food.

But I miss the personal nature of hospitality. I think if a church – or a family – wants to be hospitable, they invite someone over for dinner. Not a grand showcase or event, but just “we’re going to put some burgers on the grill, would you like to join us?” And though we might be a bit too set in our ways to change plans, the offer will meet appreciative hearts. And JJ will probably convince me to throw caution to the wind and go. Because of the churches we’ve visited and connected to, that has been a common denominator to him feeling an allegiance to return – the overall genuine welcoming nature of the people already there.

let’s go down, down to the river

May 6, 2012 / Michele Minehart

One of the challenges of visiting churches comes with standing by during meaningful moments. This morning was baptism Sunday and I felt slightly voyeuristic peering in on this significant moment for 8 individuals. But let me tell you, such an experience won’t leave me dry eyed. I was glad when the worship leader was clearly moved as well, so I was in good company.

The preacher did a fantastic job of sharing the heart for each person in this group of young people (and one adult) and praying for their future. It was not just about going under the water to be washed clean, but rising again into a future of walking with God.

I recently read a post about parenting and faith (and I cannot seem to find it to link to it. Blogger Fail.) which the author weighed the idea of baptism of young kids; she had come through a faith crisis herself and when her 5 year old came to her asking to be baptized, she had trouble agreeing to it. The sentiment of the post was that the little boy didn’t realize what he was committing to; that though everlasting life and love of Jesus might be the reasons we’re baptized, it comes with a commitment to carry a cross, love our neighbors and give and serve more than we receive. I resonated with her thoughts – I have difficulty sometimes grasping and living what a decision to follow Jesus means. Does this little one understand the gravity or the depth of such a decision.

But today, watching the young people (ages 5 to probably 10, and one adult) make professions of faith – “I want everyone to know that I love God” and “I’m ready to follow Jesus” – one can’t help but experience that other-worldly idea of Hope of which we read and sing. Because the adults leading these children weren’t just leading them to a single decision of salvation, but directing them toward a lifelong journey of walking with God. Did the kids completely understand what will be involved? I would say they did to the extent they are capable. At no point do we really comprehend what a commitment might hold, but we can grasp its current reality.

And because those baptized were a part of the children’s ministry, they brought down all the kids to watch. H Boy was front and center watching, full of curiosity. I absolutely loved this, knowing he was participating in something very holy and very real. At the same time, I sat filled with dread about the questions. And the answers I’m supposed to have. And my convictions and my worries and my (see above paragraph)… I began to realize just how big this job is getting and how unprepared – unqualified – I am.

But then I remembered the words of a pastor I greatly appreciate. A few years ago there was a message about childhood discipleship following VBS week. His main point said that such grand events are fun, but if not followed with a life and understanding of Jesus the rest of the year, it’s done in vain. He talked about parenting and the weight we we feel. I wasn’t a parent when I heard it, but it stuck with me. He honestly reflected that sometimes as a parent – though he’s a preacher – he’s scared to death and doesn’t feel like he has the right answers. All of a sudden, it became okay to not be ready for this.

So much of our life we’re learning as we go. Parenting, for me, falls into that category. As does Faith. I don’t have answers. I don’t know the ideal time to baptize a kid or how to plant the seeds in these young minds that someday they’ll have to make a decision about who or what will be the center of their lives and if we choose Jesus, that means our life might not be the same. It’s overwhelming to think about the bigness of God and the smallness of the vocabulary and experiences I’ve got to work with in translating to them.

But then again, there’s Crowder: My eyes are small but they have seen / the beauty of enormous things / which leads me to believe / there’s light enough to see.

The pastor remarked about how God uses an inward work and an outward act to culminate in a beautiful thing we call baptism. For me, it became a beautiful collision of hope and fear and the admission that at times they coexist. Not a fear that leaves me scared, but a fear that recognizes the weight of the task ahead. A healthy fear that causes me to pray – and pray hard – on behalf of my littles. And for me. And for my husband. And for the church community in which we’ll be planted. Because it will be God working through all things that actually bring my kids to the point of asking, seeking and knocking, not just my Correct Answers or Brilliant Analogies. My Wisdom and Know-How have nothing on the experience of introducing my kids to a world of people that love Jesus.

Michele Minehart

Page 160 of 312

the beauty rut known as 1998

a prize every time

let’s go down, down to the river

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