I'm the Short Aunt...

On Sunday, we had my youngest nephew's 1st birthday party. Harrison Robert will actually turn 1 year old tomorrow, and that delightful cheerful soul has been such a wonderful addition to our family already. He is the happiest baby I've ever seen. Sure, he's had a few bad moments with teething, but on the whole, he's been a happy, giggling bundle of joy.

After the guests all headed home from the party, my brother-in-law took some photos of me with each of his 3 kids as I had requested. As most of you know, I'm always behind the camera rather than in front of it. I like it that way. But every once in a while, I like having snapshots taken of me with my nieces and nephews, too. The photos turned out quite well and made Aunt Mel happy.

Harrison and I posed. His Mom got him laughing from across the room, and he's just too cute. Grace and I cheesed and giggled for the camera with ease. She was adorable in her fancy church dress. She's a true girly-girl and loves dressing up.

But when it came time for Jacob and I to have our photo shoot, Jonathan insisted on doing a height check photo to determine how close Jacob was to reaching my height and beyond. He's only 6 how bad could it be, right? WRONG! We stood back to back, and if the photos are any indication, my goofy little nephew is going to be taller than his old Aunt Mel in short order. [sigh] My sister is now betting that he'll be taller than I am by third grade. YIKES! And my friend James from college (who will forever be known as Jamie to me) saw the photos online and suggested I look into surgery to lengthen my height so I could keep up. OUCH! I hear that surgery is rather painful, but thanks for the suggestion, Jamie. Hee hee!

Yeah, it's bound to happen. I'm going to be passed up by all of my nieces and nephews eventually, but that's OK. I'm all right being the short aunt for now. I can still whip any of them at Monopoly, and I play a mean Wii tennis game, and so it's all good as long as they don't mind hanging out with the short one in the family.

Things Are Pretty Bad Right Now...

Due to recent budget cuts and the rising cost of electricity, gas and oil, as well as current market conditions, the Light at the End of the Tunnel has been turned off. We apologize for the inconvenience.

My friend and colleague, Heidi, sent me an email with that simple message yesterday, and it just made me laugh. Yes, things are difficult right now, and I am not making light of these tight economic times or the hardships so many are facing by chuckling. But I truly believe that we need laughter to survive. We need to find humor even amidst these dire circumstances, perhaps especially during them really.

I'm not always Suzy Sunshine or the girl looking at the rosy side of life. You all know me better than that. I'm a melancholy brooder, a writer, a dreamer. Actually, I'm not sure whether the glass is half full or half empty most of the time, but I do know the FILLER of the glass, and I know HE tends to fill us even when there doesn't appear to be any liquid in sight. HE's the one who multiplied the loaves and the fishes to feed multitudes. HE made water into wine. HE restored sight to the blind. HE made the lame leap for joy. And HE is right here with us now...

LORD, thank you for the gift of laughter. Thank you for the filling joy that only YOU can provide. Keep our hearts tuned to see YOU, to hear YOU even when the light at the end of the tunnel appears to be waning and all appears to be lost and hopeless. Keep us looking to YOU, the ultimate FILLER, the ONE TRUE HOPE!

Tomorrow Is Fresh With No Mistakes In It…

No matter how you voted in the last presidential election, yesterday was an historical moment and should be celebrated. America has a new President, and a new Democratic administration has stepped in on a platform of optimism and hope. This is a fresh start, a new beginning, a pristine opportunity.

Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it.

I always liked that line from Lucy Maud Montgomery's pen in Anne of Green Gables. It is a good reminder that each day starts anew as a breath of fresh air.

Hope and optimism are fuel for the human spirit. It's contagious, infectious, enthralling, and right now it is spreading like wildfire. I hear it at work amongst my co-workers. I catch a glimpse of it in a cashier's eye at Meijer. I feel it surrounding my friends as we converse in person or online. It's there, right there in front of you, if you open your eyes to view it.

Yesterday ushered in a change. A new man has stepped in as the leader of the free world. So many are looking toward this new President and his administration to deliver them from their financial burdens. The economic crisis in this country is burdening so many who have lost their jobs and homes. Still others are seeking changes in our health care system. The rising swell of health costs each year is staggering and preventing many from getting proper medical treatment. Some are eagerly anticipating their loved ones who are serving overseas to quickly be returned to them. So many have faith in the winds of change

On the flip side, there are some that are tempted to downplay the significance of yesterday's inauguration. There are the nay-sayers who have already started commenting on how futile and naive the aspirations of the new administration are. The critics are already bubbling over with anticipation waiting for the mistakes, the goofs, the corruption to start piling up. They have faith in failure.

But my faith isn't in a man, a change in administration or policy. My hope doesn't rest in the hands of critics or the doomsday crowd. My trust, my hope, my faith, my optimism rests in GOD, in my LORD and SAVIOR, and today I'm allowing that ULTIMATE HOPE to infuse me as we move forward as a nation. I'm embracing the HOPE.

GO LIGHT YOUR WORLD
by Chris Rice

There is a candle in every soul
Some brightly burning, some dark and cold
There is a Spirit who brings fire
Ignites a candle and makes His home

Carry your candle, run to the darkness
Seek out the hopeless, confused and torn
Hold out your candle for all to see it
Take your candle, and go light your world
Take your candle, and go light your world

Frustrated brother, see how he's tried to
Light his own candle some other way
See now your sister, she's been robbed and lied to
Still holds a candle without a flame

Carry your candle, run to the darkness
Seek out the lonely, the tired and worn
Hold out your candle for all to see it
Take your candle, and go light your world
Take your candle, and go light your world

We are a family whose hearts are blazing
So let's raise our candles and light up the sky
Praying to our Father, in the name of Jesus
Make us a beacon in darkest times

Carry your candle, run to the darkness
Seek out the helpless, deceived and poor
Hold out your candle for all to see it
Take your candle, and go light your world

Carry your candle, run to the darkness
Seek out the hopeless, confused and torn
Hold out your candle for all to see it
Take your candle, and go light your world
Take your candle, and go light your world

How Do You Say...

In the office, we have quite a hodge-podge of accents both globally and from the USA. Here in the IP section, I continually get re-educated on regional dialects in the USA especially, and I find it amazing.

For example, my friend Stephanie is from Kentucky, and she moved back to Louisville a few years ago. My friend Kristen and I planned a weekend excursion to visit her, and when I told my co-worker Dena about my trip, she hastily corrected me on the correct pronounciation of Louisville.

“Not Louey-vill, Mel. It’s Loo-ih-vull.”

Now Dena is from Tennessee, and so I trusted her advice, and after a few day of intense phonetic training, I finally got my Midwestern tongue to say it as she suggested. The silly thing is that once I got the pronounciation down, I had to say the word extremely fast so that I wouldn’t screw it up. It quickly became a one-and-a-half syllable word for me. Dena joked that she was tempted to say Gesundheit each time I said the city since my pronounciation was more like a sneeze than a word. HA!

Well, fast forward a couple of years, and we get a new attorney in the office from Louisville, and being the Southern gentleman that he is, it takes him a while to finally correct my pronounciation and that of Dena’s for his beloved hometown.

“Slow it down, Mel. It’s Loo-uh-vull. It should just roll off your tongue.”

So I’ve been practicing the correct recitation ever since, but it has brought up a couple more questions in my mind. Does that mean that Nashville should be Nash-vull? Knoxville be Knox-vull? Asheville be Ash-vull? And what about Greenville? I lived there for 4 years, and I don’t recall anyone correcting my speech and suggesting that I call it Green-vull. Or does it depend upon which of the Carolina Greenville’s you are referring? Now, I’m confused.

I’m a Midwest girl. It is what it is. I grew up with that nasal Michigan thing going for me, but then I went to college in South Carolina and have now lived in Indiana for 12+ years. Honestly I’m not sure where I sound like I’m from. When I’m tired, the Michigan comes out in me. Words like car become different, and it’s a dead give-away. But ordinarily under proper resting conditions, I’m not sure what a linguistic expert would say of my speech. Would he pinpoint the Michigan thing instantly? Would he sense the Carolina influence? Would he detect the Hoosier-isms?

Oh well! I don’t know any Professor Higgins types to investigate it further, and let’s face it, I’m no Eliza Doolittle either. I just think it’s fascinating to study how people say the same word from location to location. I love the differences which make up this melting pot I am pleased to call home.

Weekend Update

OK. I'm going to share something here, and I just need you to be happy for me, all right? Just play along. Are you ready?

I got a new microwave yesterday, and I'm pretty excited about it. I'm not quite doing cartwheels across the floor (and since I have never been able to do cartwheels THAT would be quite an amazing feat), but I am pretty psyched about the newest member of my kitchen appliance family. I know, to the casual observer, this might seem a bit trivial or a tad silly for one to get so enthused about the purchase of a new food-heating tool, but it has made me quite happy. [I realize I'm easily amused.]

I've had the same microwave since my first apartment back in Peru, IN. My sister-in-law's mother brought me her spare microwave right after I moved into my first post-college apartment. Believe me, I was grateful for that brown metal box, and it has served me well these past dozen years or more. It has made several big moves with me across the state of Indiana since those humble beginnings in the Circus Capital of the World. Over the years, it has survived in tact with dignity and quality service.

But lately, it's been less than a top performer. About a month ago I started noticing that I was having to heat things up for longer and longer time periods...especially the baked potatoes, and you all know how I feel about my baked potatoes, right? Well, it was taking about 12-15 minutes for one medium-sized potato to get cooked all the way through, and that just didn't seem right.

So on Saturday, I broke down and bought a new microwave, and it has made all the difference. I still am learning all my heating options and reading through the manual. Yes, I'm one of those people. I read manuals. Don't you? The new microwave is pretty much nuclear in comparison to the antique circa 1986 microwave that is no longer with me. [Yes, that is not a typo, I found a 1986 sticker on the bottom of the old model. WOW! I had no idea...]

But lest you think I would so easily toss the old out without so much as a fine farewell, let me assure you that I did take a moment or two of quiet reflection before ceremoniously heaving the ancient relic into the dumpster. There were no tears, no drawn-out speeches, no flowers or lumps of dirt to lay on the grave of the dearly departed. It was just time to say goodbye, and so I did without making too much of a scene.

Then I came back inside out of the cold and promptly heated up a potato for dinner in the new black GE model on my countertop. It only took about 5 minutes, and I had a steaming hot baked potato waiting for a dollop of Daisy. Life is good.

In other news, I bought my luggage for England this weekend as well. I purchased a red set on clearance [WOOHOOO!], and I'm quite happy about it as well. I was glad to find luggage in my price range that was not gray or black. I wanted my new set to stand out a bit, and I think red luggage will do the trick. I opted not to get the black luggage with a skull and crossbones on it. Yes, interestingly enough, they actually had luggage covered with skulls and crossbones. I considered it for about 2 seconds since it was so very unique, but I guess I figured that would be a magnet for undesired attention on my international travels. HA!

OH! OH! And I finally took the Christmas tree down this weekend as well. It was time to pack up the remnants of last season [sigh!], but somehow, I do miss the lights and my snow globes. Although, it is kinda nice having my living room furniture all arranged like before. Ah, but Christmas 2009 will be here before we know it. Only 340 days to go. WOOHOO!!

Yeah, it's been a good weekend. I hope you all had a great weekend, too and are gearing up for another great week. HUGS!

Let Your Inner Song Out

I can usually determine what kind of day we’re going to have here in the IP section by whether or not Carl sings at my desk. Yes, you heard that right. I frequently get "serenaded" by one of my attorneys when he is in a good mood. He has a pretty good voice, by the way, and he likes to compose new lyrics to familiar tunes to make them relevant to our work environment. This morning he started off with some tune I didn’t recognize, and naturally expected me to reply in song at 7:15 AM...

Him: [singing] Good Morning, Melanie, and how are you today?

Me: [talking] I’m just peachy.

Him: [singing] Please reply in song.

Me: [talking] I haven’t warmed up my vocal chords yet.

He went on half-talking and half-singing for 5 minutes about how and why I should sing more. Then he tells me that I especially need to practice singing for England.

Me: Huh? Why do I need to get ready to sing in England? Is there a music tour I’m going on that I don’t know about?

Him: True love requires singing. Let your song out. How else are you going to snag a husband in England without a song?

Me: [laughing] Ommmmm...so you’re back to that again, are you? [He’s been going on and on for months about how he feels my purpose on this trip to England is to find a duke, earl, lord or someone with aristocratic blood to marry.]

Him: [He paused for a moment to mentally compose his response.] Whether through your voice of through your heart, if you’re not singing, you must part.

Me: Wow! That’s--that’s something.

Him: Didn’t know I had the gift, did you?

Me: I knew you had something. Not sure I’d call it a gift. [We laughed some more, and he continued on with his rant.]

Actually, I love to sing. I just don’t like to sing publicly. No more of that! I grew up doing solos, duets and trios in church and school programs, and it was torture for me--the knocking knees, the faltering voice, the gulps mid-song, the sea of faces, etc. OK, so trios and duets weren't quite as bad, but those solos were just the worst! I’m shivering just thinking about it, or maybe I’m shivering because it’s 14 degrees below 0 this morning, and I still haven’t recovered my body heat after my mad dash from the car to the building. [One moment please...I’m gonna put on my gloves now.]

There that’s better. Where was I?

Anyway, I love to sing, but I just have a mediocre voice. It's not anything amazing at all. For one thing, I don't have a really strong voice. Part of that is a lack of confidence when it comes to singing, I guess. But I have been known to belt out along with Sarah Brightman while cleaning. Yes, I like to clean with Sarah or Michael [Buble], and I just can't listen to them--I must sing along, but even then I'm hoping my neighbors can't hear me over the vacuum. HA!

Throughout the day, I usually have a song going in my head even if it’s just the Smurfs theme song. La-lah, la-lah-lah-la... Or a show tune like I Could Have Danced All Night or some obscure Broadway song that Sarah Brightman has introduced me to like Meadowlark. Oh, I love that song! [sigh!]

Now Carl likes to walk by my desk singing one of those annoying ditties that gets in your head and then won’t leave like Don’t Worry Be Happy or In the Jungle. You know what I mean, right? You get those songs in your head, and all day you are trying to cleanse them out and get another tune going to replace them. Anything else would be better. Yeah, that drives me crazy, which is definitely a short drive some days.

Hmmmm...maybe I will take Carl's advice just this once. Maybe I should rehearse a song and be ready just in case I meet Mr. Right in an English garden or along a bike or walking trail in Indiana. At our meeting, I will burst into song...

*If ever I would leave you,
How could it be in spring-time?
Knowing how in spring I'm bewitched by you so?
Oh, no! not in spring-time!
Summer, winter or fall!
No, never could I leave you at all!*

What do you think? Should I pick something else? You don't think it's too much for a chance encounter, do you? HA!

I’m just kidding, of course.

Whatever you do and wherever you are today, I hope you release your inner song, as Carl suggests. Let it out. Whisper if you must, hum along as you will, whistle about your day, croon to your colleagues, yodel as you drive home, croon to the radio, but whatever you do release your inner song and share it. As for me, I'm going back to the previously scheduled song in my head now. And NO, I'm not going to tell you what it is. Some things are meant to be private... Hee hee!

*Taken from 1960's Camelot, selection from If Ever I Would Leave You, music and lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe

Running Along the Path

My Pastor is going through the book of Job for the next few weeks. This past Sunday was our jump-start into the passage, and if it was any indication, this is going to be an exhausting, convicting yet exhilarating ride. I was crying 5 minutes in and then sniffling throughout the rest of the message.

To go along with the weekly sermons, Pastor Mark recommended 3 books we could select about pain and suffering. I struggled to pick just one, but I did. I had read another book of Philip Yancey's, and so I thought I'd try another one by him: Where Is God When It Hurts?

Every morning this week I've been reading a chapter and learning a great deal more about pain and how useful it can be in our lives. Today I was particularly struck with these few lines which go right along with my blog from last night:

*I think of a world without another pain, the pain of loneliness. Would friendship and love even exist apart from our inbuilt sense of need, the prod that keeps us all from being hermits? Do we not need the power of loneliness to pry us away from isolation and push us toward others?*

Isn't that good? I think I picked the right book.

It is true that we need pain to get us moving sometimes. Like this morning in Indiana, it is -6 degrees right now and with the wind chill factor, it feels like -18 degrees. Brrrrrrr.... I was so cold driving into work that I put on a second pair of gloves mid-transit and kept slapping my hands together so that I could feel something. Hey, how long does it takes for frostbite to happen? I wonder. I suppose to an outsider it would have appeared that I was clapping along on my drive. Yep, that's me--I like to do quick little cheers on my morning commute to help get me going. HA!

Then after parking my car as close as I could to the building, I ran from my car to the door, praying the entire way that I would not fall flat on my face along the slick path. Yes, like a 5-year-old expecting hot cocoa and cookies after playing in the snow, I ran inside just so I could get warm. But without the sensation of pain, I wouldn't have sensed the urgency to move, to get out of the cold. The pain protected me from foolishness.

So to without the pangs of loneliness, I wouldn't sense the need to mingle and interact with my fellow image-bearers. The pain is stimulating me into action and pushing me to get out of my head and merge into the lives all around me, and that is right where GOD wants me.

*Taken from Philip Yancey's book, Where Is God When It Hurts?, chapter 4, page 56

Self-Imposed Solitary Confinement

I don’t know that I could say I’m a true introvert really, not in my core of cores anyway. I guess I’m half introverted and half extroverted or perhaps it’s a 60/40 split. OH DEAR! Does that make me a split personality? I hope not. The scoop is that I’m not completely shy, especially if you catch me on caffeine, but I wouldn't say that I'm exactly bold or forward either. I live somewhere in the middle.

In certain social situations, I’ll jump in and try to get people interacting, but normally that social butterfly aspects kicks in only because others aren’t talking or someone isn't joining in on the conversation. It is always my goal to get those outside the circle to join in. I don’t like anyone left out. I like drawing shy people out.

In other settings, I’ll freeze up and have nothing to say, but typically that happens when someone else is dominating the conversation. I just go quiet and retreat into my own thoughts or start mentally composing my blog. I do that a lot. So at times, I guess I can seem a bit withdrawn.

You know that saying about how “there is strength in numbers...” Well, I feel safe and secure when I am alone. I’m actually quite cozy on my own in my neat and tidy world with my music, movies, books, writing, photos, etc. I surround myself with those things and immerse myself completely into them, which isn't a bad thing in itself. However, I tend to get too comfortable with my slightly reclusive tendencies and this leads to isolation. I start to like my own company best, but somehow I'm quite sure that THAT is not what GOD intended at all. And every once in a while, I think GOD likes to remind me that I need people in my life.

Over the holidays, I spent nearly a week with my parents and Grandma. We had 6 awesome days together, just spending time in the same room, playing games, talking, teasing, sharing stories, shopping, etc. It was priceless. But when I got back home to my 1-bedroom flat which is 400 miles from those loving connections, everything seemed off. Suddenly I didn’t like being alone all the time. I was bored with my own company, and that just doesn't happen to me very often. I can always find something to do on my own. There is always a project I need to work on like making greeting cards, working on a scrapbook, editing photos, etc. Or if I need to get out of my apartment, I'll stroll through the IMA gardens or take an excursion through the art galleries. I'll drive downtown and tour a museum or walk along the canal. I'll just grab my camera and off I'll go exploring the city. But lately, that hasn't been effective. I find that I'm needing interaction with people, and for the first time in a long time, I'm struggling with adjusting to the solitude. It's too quiet, and I'm suffocating in the silence.

So I've made some recent efforts to get out of the Mel zone more often. I spent a couple of days with my sister and her family. I had lunch with a couple of friends. I celebrated the New Year with family. I had some single girlfriends over for dinner and a movie. And after all that, I discovered that being with people is like taking a drug, and this girl doesn't want to quit this habit. I’ve missed being around people more. We were not created to be alone all the time. Everyone needs a bit of solitude, but too much of a good thing can be hazardous to one's health. I need people. There I said it--I'm needy. [GASP!] WOW! That was therapeutic.

Let me say it again: Melanie is needy.

LORD, thank you that we need each other. Help me to seek out more opportunities to serve and be used in the lives of those around me. LORD, please help me to love people as YOU do!

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable." -- C.S. Lewis

Comic Relief 101

Let me share a recent conversation between me and one of my attorneys.

SETTING THE SCENE: Someone was in the conference room that this attorney and his fellow attorneys had reserved, and so for a few minutes, the 4 of them were all standing around my desk waiting for the previous meeting, which was quite obviously going long, to disperse.

Him: Hey, Melanie, why don’t you go knock on that door and clear the room for us?

Me: What? Are you scared of kicking them out of the room? Come on. You can do it. You attorneys thrive on conflict and confrontation. You live for it. That’s why you became a lawyer, isn’t it? You know it’s true.

Him: How prejudicial of you? I can’t believe you just said that. [He paused for a moment, and I could tell his brain was churning and that I was about to be dinged.]

Him: Saying that every lawyer likes conflict is like saying that every legal assistant is helpful!

Me: OUCH! [laughing] I didn’t see that one coming.

I've heard him repeat our conversation at least 3 times now. He sure is awfully proud of himself for that comeback.

Welcome to my world! This is just part of our daily banter in the IP (Intellectual Property) Section of the Legal Department, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. It keeps me guessing and laughing even while under tremendous stress from approaching deadlines or immense pressure from the insurmountable stacks of paperwork attacking my desk. Ahhhh...what would we do without comic relief? I know that I'm rather thankful for it.

120 Days Until Mel Goes Global

In 120 days, I'll be flying over the ocean for the first time (and hopefully only the first of many such adventures ahead). It's true. In 4 short months, I will finally be on my way to England to get that first stamp in my passport.

I've been talking about taking this journey since I first fell in love with everything English at the ripe old age of 7. My Mom woke me up that warm July day in the wee hours of the morning so that together we could watch Princess Diana marry her Prince Charming and live happily ever after. OK, so the story didn't quite have the happy ending we imagined, but no matter, from that moment on in 1981, this dreamer wanted to visit Great Britain and see that magical land of history, pageantry and literature.

My quest to learn all I could about the fair isle of England began all those many moons ago. I researched everything I could about England, even doing a grade school research project on the island and memorizing a list of the monarchs in succession. I read the English classics, filling my head with passionate tales or moody masterpieces like Persuasion and Jane Eyre. I consumed British poetry, drawing life from the pen of great romantic poets such as Elizabeth Barret Browning or the stirring ballads of Alfred Noyes or Lord Alfred Tennyson. I reveled in the delicious vivid language of William Shakespeare, devouring each scene of his great works such as Hamlet and The Taming of the Shrew. I heartily fell in love with British musicals, vicariously living life in song through Camelot and My Fair Lady.

And now it is nearly time for this voyage to begin... [sigh!]