The Germans Are Coming :: An Odd Thing to Pretend

This post was originally written and posted to Notes on my Facebook profile. I am merging my notes and the blog and added this post to the blog on February 5, 2011.

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So it's Sportsman's Weekend at Somerset Beach Campground. I was walking along in the west campground, minding my own business, when I saw a group of boys playing. It was a typical scene: they were running across the road and hiding behind trees: no big deal, although there was notably gunfire in the background from hunters practicing at the gun range. All of the sudden, I heard a boy shout, "THE GERMANS ARE COMING! THE GERMANS ARE COMING!" What the heck? I turned around and noticed a little boy wearing his bike helmet and crouched behind the embankment by the road.

They were playing World War Two!

At first, I couldn't decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Initially, I thought it was kind of morbid and depressing. But as I've thought about it, I've decided that I'm glad they have the education, that they know about World War II. Maybe someone they look up to, their grandpa, perhaps, fought in World War II, and they were playacting because they wanted to be like him. That's so great. Veterans are heroes, and it's awesome to see little boys view them that way, whether or not they realize it. Albeit a strange thing for little boys to be pretending, I think it's healthy. It's like cops and robbers or cowboys and Indians. Some moms of boys have told me that they didn't want their boys playing with pretend guns and wouldn't let them have toy guns as children, but it didn't matter. They used sticks or their fingers with rubber bands as pretend guns. Boys will be boys. Their sons are grown now, and none the worse for it.

I think it's kind of great. Just as long as they realize real guns aren't toys . . . and that they don't grow up with a stereotype against Germans. :oP

I Can't Believe I Quit My Job

I did it. I quit my job. I had many, many, too-numerous-to-mention reasons, but I am no longer employed there. I have never done something like this before. I quit a job without giving two weeks notice. I even wrote up a formal notice when I quit McDonald's, for heaven's sake. I never do things like this. It is completely irresponsible to quit a job without having another job to start. I've been taught this from day one. I know that you should not allow yourself to be between jobs unless you are fired and can then get unemployment. But I did it.

I have been praying about this, considering it, discussing it with my husband for seven months. Seven months!!! It wasn't something I did on a whim. I have been looking for another job just to have a steady income so that I could quit, but nothing came through. Finally my employer basically gave me no other choice, and I felt like it was like God was smacking me in the back of the head, saying, "Laura, I have told you for seven months to trust me. I will provide for you. If you have faith in me and trust in the skills and abilities I have given you, I will make your dreams come true." As we were walking into Meijer last night, I told Nate that. Well, minus the God-smacking-me-in-the-back-of-the-head part. We prayed about it. We read God's Word. We consulted those around us whose opinions we value most especially in this matter: my mom, Nate's mom, Nate's dad, Mike, and Laura. All of them told us variations of the same thing. The behavior of my employer was intolerable, and I needed to give them an ultimatum. Nate and I agreed that this was the right and necessary next step for me. I confronted them in the way I knew I could handle and they would handle best. I emailed them. This way, I would have a written record of our conversation if the need arose. I was also able to carefully consider every word, being sure to say what I meant and not say things I didn't mean out of anger. I sent it last night. I tossed and turned all night. I didn't sleep a wink over 4 hours all night. I had this nasty, queazy feeling in my gut. This morning, I received a reply of apology and a request for me to stay on if they made the situation right. I replied with appreciation but said no. I have this amazing peace about it now. I might even be able to arrange for them to outsource work to me. Which would be a steady income. And I'd get to work from home still. Amazing. Thank you, Jesus.

My goal for the next week is to trim down our expenses and come up with a proper business plan. I've also applied at places like McDonald's and Kohl's. I'm not above doing what has to be done in order to make ends meet and to pursue this. We don't make very much money as it is, but finally have some savings and I know we can do this. I am a talent designer. I know this to be true. Now I just have to tell the world that I am and that I'm affordable and for hire! I found this quote by Oprah Winfrey, "Devote today to something so daring even you can 't believe you 're doing it." I'd say this qualifies! I'm ready for the challenge. Bring it on.

"Today is the first day of the rest of your life." - American Proverb

Empathizing with the Pain of Loss

One aspect of my personality is empathy, which gives me a strong desire to feel the pain of others and somehow try to ease that pain. Usually its pain I've never even experienced in my own life. Other times, its pain I know only too well. Sometimes it makes me a softy. Sometimes it means I cry during movies when things happen to fictional characters or people I don't even know. I'm such a Golden Retriever, it's not even funny.

In the past few years, I have had several friends experience miscarriage. On Monday, I just found out another friend was going through it. As someone who has not yet become a parent, I can't even imagine the pain of losing a child, let alone one in the womb. The "Why me, God?" questions must be so difficult to face, especially when the miscarriage occurs after so many people knew you were pregnant...to have to face people and tell them you lost the baby. I can't imagine how difficult that must be. The desire to curl up, hide from society, and become numb would be so strong for me.

I recently heard this song, by Natalie Grant called "Held." It's by no means a new song - it came out in 2005 - and though I've heard it many times before, only recently did I actually listen to the lyrics and look them up. I nearly balled my eyes out. Had I not been at work, I probably would have.

Held

by Natalie Grant

Two months is too little / They let him go / They had no sudden healing
To think that Providence / Would take a child from his mother
While she prays, is appalling / Who told us we'd be rescued
What has changed and / Why should we be saved from nightmares
We're asking why this happens to us / Who have died to live, it's unfair

:: Chorus ::
This is what it means to be held / How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive / This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was when everything fell / We'd be held

This hand is bitterness / We want to taste it and / Let the hatred numb our sorrows
The wise hand opens slowly / To lilies of the valley and tomorrow

[Chorus]

:: Bridge ::
If hope is born of suffering / If this is only the beginning

Can we not wait, for one hour / Watching for our Savior

[Chorus]
We'd be held

This is what it is to be loved and to know / That the promise was when everything fell
We'd be held / This is what it means to be held.....

How perfect. How it must break the heart of God when these terrible sorts of things happen to people. Many people ask why bad things happen to good people. I always think that is such a crazy question. I'm non-confrontational, so I never say anything. But really. What is the definition of a good person anyway? We're all sinners, those who are in Christ and those who are not, have all fallen short of the glory of God. It says so in the Bible. Even people who don't believe that know that no one is perfect. We're saved because of what He did, not because we believe in Him and are somehow magically turned into "good people." The promise was not that bad things wouldn't happen to us anymore. As the song says, "The promise was that when everything fell, we'd be held."

I read or heard somewhere, though I can't for the life of me remember where, of a Christian couple who had a baby girl who was born somehow handicapped. I don't remember the specifics. They went through the "why us, God?" questions and eventually gained what I think is an awesome perspective. What if there were a total percentage of babies that had to be born handicapped? What if God gave that to you to bear in order to spare from someone else? If you knew there had to be a total number distributed between all mankind from now to the end of time, as a believer, would you not volunteer for the job? This couple took on this perspective. The fact that they were given a baby that they had the financial, spiritual, and physical ability to care for became a blessing. God gave her to them to take care of her instead of someone else.

I think the same thing could apply to miscarriages or really any pain we experience that we deem unfair. Not to diminish the pain felt, but to gain a new perspective on it. What if there were a total number of miscarriages that had to happen throughout time? What if God gave it to you to bear rather than to someone He knew would not be able to carry the burden or endure the grief. The Bible doesn't actually say, "God will never give you more than you can handle." Sometimes He does allow you to be in situations that you don't think you can handle, but in reality, those are the times He wants you to rely on Him to carry you. If He didn't let those sorts of things happen to you, you'd think you handled everything in your own strength. Why would you even need Him? Really, isn't that what the Bible is saying in Psalm 71:20-21? "Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up. You will increase my honor and comfort me once again." Also, Lamentations 3:31-33 "For men are not cast off by the Lord forever. Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men."

It probably seems easy for me to say. I've never actually experienced great pain in loss. Sure I've lost loved ones, actually only once, but there's a world of difference between losing an 80 year old grandfather and losing a child. I was VERY close to my grandpa, and oftentimes now, I will find myself thinking about him and how much I miss the presence of such a wonderful man of God who without a doubt loved me and my family with a Christ-like love. I don't think that pain can even compare to the grief of losing a child who had been growing inside of you. I only know from what I've heard, the strong bond between a mother and a child, especially in the womb. Even though I may never know this pain, I try to empathize anyway and my heart just breaks for people going through something like this. I mean for most people, a funeral helps bring closure to the grief they experience, but there is no funeral for a miscarried baby. No real closure. So, I pray for them. I try to encourage them and be there for them. I pray for them some more. I thank God for his blessings. I see the strength in these women (and their families) and am actually encouraged by them. I hope and pray that if I'm ever in their situation or even a similar one, that I will exhibit the same strength and reliance on God that I see in them. And maybe I'll look back on this post and be reminded of God's promises.

Happy Fourth.

I am so slacking on the Blog lately! An quick update on the weightloss:

Nate is maintaining his 175 lbs. I haven't lost any more, but I haven't gained any more either. My goal is to lose about 20 more. I am going to be in two weddings next summer, so I'd like to be smaller by then. End of weight loss update.

Today's the fourth of July. Happy fourth. Anyway, I used to love fireworks, but ever since having a dog who is PETRIFIED of them, I don't so much anymore. He cowers and hides and his little heart beats so hard I'm afraid it's going to come right out of his chest! Hopefully he'll get over it someday.

And I shall leave you with this:

Bad idea for your Fourth of July event: "Come Dressed As Your Favorite Redcoat".

Bahahahaha.

Potato Salad Recipe

Potluck Potato Salad

from Better Homes and Gardens: New Cookbook

1/4 cup clear French salad dressing with spices and herbs (recipe to follow)

4 to 5 medium potatoes, cook in jackets, peeled, and cubed (4 cups)

1 cup chopped celery

1/4 cup chopped onion

4 hard-cooked eggs, sliced

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup mayonnaise

Pour French dressing over warm potatoes; chill 2 hours. Add celery, onion, eggs, and salt. Add mayonnaise and mix carefully. Add 1 teaspoon celery seed, if desired. Chill 4 hours. Makes 8 servings.

French Dressing (not the same as creamy French)

1/2 cup salad oil

2 tablespoons vinegar

2 tablespoons lemon juice

1 teaspoon sugar

3/4 teaspoon dry mustard

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/8 teaspoon paprika

Dash cayenne

Combine ingredients in jar (I use a Tupperware dressing shaker); cover and shake well before using. Makes 3/4 cup.

Jury Duty

I've had a crazy last few weeks. I do not have the time nor the energy to write about everything here, but I definitely want to record what has transpired since the last week of March hopefully sometime soon. Did I already say it's been crazy? Well, it's been KA-RA-ZEE! Ugh, I rarely intentionally spell things wrong, and it kind of pains me to do that. Sorry. As usual, I digress. Moving on...

Just pretend that you already know that I've had two unusual and highly stressful weeks prior to yesterday. Fast forward to yesterday: so, I'm sitting at work, enjoying dragging through the second 12 hour work day of the week, when I get a call on my cell phone. It's an unknown name and number, so as usual, I let it go to voicemail, especially since I'm at work. The little voicemail icon appears, and I promptly check it.

"Laura Piatt, we need you for jury duty tomorrow morning, Wednesday, April 14. Please report to the District Court Room by 8:15 AM..." CRAP.

I knew that there was a chance I would be called that day because I had received a letter in early March about the dates I would tentatively be needed. I had even frantically mailed off a letter that I would be unavailable on the first date, April 7 because I'd be in Florida. However, in the aforementioned "unusual and highly stressful" weeks, I had forgotten all about it. It's a good thing the lady called because I would probably have forgotten to call that night to find out if I was needed. It would really put a damper on my plans to work 12-14 hour days every day this week if I had to take 4-8 hours to serve on a jury panel.

New situations like this make me extremely nervous, oftentimes irrationally so. If you knew me on my first day of 9th grade, you might have been surprised to know that at the previous night's freshman orientation, my dad and I walked the halls of my high school mapping out where classrooms were and when I'd have time to go to my locker. It was drawn out so I could have it with me for my first few days of school. That's a little embarrassing to admit, but that is how irrationally nervous I get in new situations. Granted, it helps to know that I'd been in very small private schools up until high school. I mean, I was going from being in a class of 30 to a class of 900. The nervousness I felt when I walked into high school on my first day of 9th grade is EXACTLY how nervous I felt when I walked into the courthouse this morning, only I felt less prepared.

I made my way to the second floor, but upon seeing seemingly other jurors waiting in the hallway, I just sat and waited. WRONG. They weren't jurors, and I was supposed to have reported to the COURTROOM (as you can see in the above voicemail), but I had neglected to make a note of that. I eventually asked someone and made my way into the court room 20 minutes late (though I had been in the building all along). The orientation was already over, but they were very polite to me and gave me my juror handbook and signed me in. Since I had missed the orientation, I was even more nervous. I sat with about 24-30 other random people and waited for things to begin.

They explained the case to us, swore us in, and then proceeded to ask us questions about whether or not we felt fit to serve in this particular case. They randomly selected and called 6 (I always thought it was 12, but then I've only had a semester of Michigan Government) jurors to go sit on the panel. They asked more questions and excused jurors (for one reason or another). I was the second to last one called. As I walked up to sit in CHAIR 1 of the panel, I thought and almost smiled to myself, This WOULD happen. They asked me a few questions, like how to pronounce my last name and whether or not I had ever been involved with or had known anyone involved in an assault and battery case. Um, no. It was a definite no, but I didn't want to be over-dramatic. Apparently they liked me because they didn't dismiss me. Great. Just great.

The trial actually started at about 10:00, which means it took them almost two hours to give an orientation, select a jury, and explain the case. That seemed a bit ridiculous to me, but whatever. We are allowed to discuss the case (now that the verdict has been decided) so it is legally okay for me to blog about this, but don't worry, I'll spare you the details. This is how it went:

Basically, the case was the State of Michigan vs. the Defendant. This is because no one charged the Defendant with committing a crime. A police report had been filed the day of the incident, so they essentially had to bring it before a court of law to decide if what happened was really assault/battery or purely self-defense. The Defendant had hit his sister (actually half-sister who is 20 years older than he is) when she was in a vehicle and then had allegedly broken her car window (which was the second charge: malicious destruction of property under $200).

The trial continued, just like on Judge Judy with witnesses and evidence presented. They presented some pretty undeniable facts but there were A LOT of gray areas. He did punch her in the face. She was intoxicated. He was not intoxicated. All of those were facts agreed on by both parties. The last two were a huge deal (to us jurors)! I have never been drunk or ever been around anyone who I knew was drunk, but I've heard that people rarely can remember what they did while they were drunk. Her memory of the incident was probably pretty tainted, which left a whole lot of questions unanswered. They agreed that he hit her, though she said it was assault and he said it was self-defense (that she had him in a headlock).

There were two or three breaks during the proceedings, and we were always excused to the jury room to sit at a table, munch on doughnuts, and awkwardly stare at each other. We weren't allowed to talk about the case until we were sent to deliberate, and no one really had anything else to talk about. Twenty-five minutes sitting at a table with 5 complete strangers is worse than going to the dentist. Ugh.

They finally sent us to deliberate. We had to pick a foreperson, and thankfully that was not me. We picked a young married guy, probably 28 years old, who was in the Air Force Reserves. We talked for about 20 minutes, and it was pretty easy to see we all agreed. There were a lot of gray areas, stories untold, and details unknown. Sure he hit her and yes, he broke the window, but we were there to decide if he assaulted her with intent to inflict bodily harm. We came to the decision that there was just not enough evidence to prove that it was. As everyone knows, people are always innocent until proven guilty in the US, and there just wasn't enough proof.

We left the jury room, and the foreperson announced the famous words, "We the Jury find the Defendant not guilty..." The look of relief on the face of the Defendant and his buddy sitting behind him in the audience was unforgettable. He almost mouthed the words, "thank you," to me as I walked out of the court room. We had just decided his fate, though the potential punishment for his crime is still unknown to me. After I saw him, part of me wondered if maybe he really was guilty. But, I knew there hadn't been enough evidence to convict him, so I was confident in my - our - decision.

The overall experience was pretty fascinating. I left feeling pretty good about it all and proud that I had been involved in the execution of justice in our judicial system. I knew it would be a good learning experience, and it was, but why, oh why, did it have to be THIS WEEK?!?!

Finally Flop Weather

* This post was written late March. I'm just a bit behind in posting. *

It’s flop weather. Finally.

Now that it’s finally pleasant outside during the day, I enjoy walking down to the park in the village where I work for my lunch break. It’s even better now that I can wear flip-flops. A week or so ago, I walked by a bookstore downtown, as I do nearly every day. On this particular day, they had a large sign out front saying, “Fill a brown bag for $5.” I figured it was just as good a time as any to actually stop in. I’d been meaning to drop in there since they opened last spring. I went to their “bargain basement” of sorts, and they had tables and tables of books in used, as-is condition organized and categorized. I was just going to nose around for a minute, but I ended up discovering the home décor and cooking books.

I should add that I have about a million cookbooks. I exaggerate, but for someone who has been married not even two years and hasn’t been really cooking much longer than that, I have a huge amount. Ask Nate. I get them for gifts, for cheap, or for free, and I figure I’ll probably find something in them that I’ll use “someday.” Oh dear, I hope I’m not becoming a packrat. That would be bad. I digress.

Anyway I made the wise decision to overlook the cookbooks and found some decorating books. If I’d had more time and if they’d had a more coffee-shop-esque atmosphere, I would have found a corner to curl up in and look through these books. I love books! I’m not much of a novel-reader, but I adore getting lost in non-fiction books. I know that makes me a huge nerd. But I’m okay with that.

Some of the books I found were dated, of course, but others looked like they were published yesterday. I’m not much of a fad-follower, so classic design appeals to me. Decorating books of classic design = huge score for me. I never used to care about decorating. At all. If you’d seen my walls in college and high school, they were wall-to-wall posters. That was a bit embarrassing to reveal. I feel exposed. Ok, I’m over it. :o) As someone with an art background, I love and appreciate good design, so looking at some of the rooms these interior decorators have designed is sort of dreamy for me. Ok, I’ve officially established my nerdy-ness. There is no way to hide or deny it now.

Needless to say, I tried to fill a brown bag but it was only about half full by the time I had to leave. I took it to the desk anyway, content with the quality of the books I’d found and knowing I wasn’t bringing home a bunch of books that I didn’t “need.” The lady at the desk, who I know to be the owner, told me she didn’t want to see me paying $5 for only half a bag of books. (I might add that I had about 8-10 books in there – and no, they were not all about home décor. :o) I knew I was paying about 20¢ a book and wasn’t worried.) She discovered my topic of interest and directed me to the section of the store (where the books were not on sale) and told me to get 2 or 3 books from there to add to my bag. I happily obliged, and I found the above Laura Ashley book, “Color.” I got a few other books that are really cool too. I sure got a workout lugging that huge HEAVY brown bag down the street and back to work.

On my next day off, I made myself breakfast in bed and spent the morning relaxing and looking through my new books. But you can read about that in my next post. I’m fully inspired - now I just need a house to decorate. Our teeny little 4-room cottage limits my creativity a bit in that aspect. :o)