lisandrea's Blog

lisandrea's Blog http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio lisandrea's Blog lisandrea@mac.com 2005-02-28 02:28:57 -0500 hourly 1 2005-02-28 02:28:57 -0500 It's Not Your Parents' Marriage (Thank God!) http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20041014145208/LHA20050228015935/index.html http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20041014145208/LHA20050228015935/index.html

It's Not Your Parents' Marriage (Thank God!)

Date Created: Feb 28, 2005, 01:59 AM

A (c) book in process

File Name	Size	Download
INYPM chapter1.doc	43.4 KB	Download
INYPM chapter2.doc	56.5 KB	Download
INYPM Chapter3.doc	32.3 KB	Download
INYPM Chapters	57.8 KB	Download

]]> 2005-02-28 01:59:35 -0500 "Insomnia" by Maya Angelou http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040725014244/LHA20050228015821/index.html http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040725014244/LHA20050228015821/index.html

"Insomnia" by Maya Angelou

Date Created: Feb 28, 2005, 01:58 AM

There are some nights when
sleep plays coy,
aloof and disdainful.
And all the wiles
that I employ to win
its service to my side
are useless as wounded pride,
and much more painful.

]]> 2005-02-28 01:58:48 -0500 A Simple Note of Frustration http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040628031809/LHA20050228013525/index.html http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040628031809/LHA20050228013525/index.html

A Simple Note of Frustration

Date Created: Feb 28, 2005, 01:39 AM

Due to USER ERROR (yes, I claim FULL responsibilty), I must rebuild this once-highly-populated blog. In October, I downloaded a BlogWave Studio upgrade & mistakenly replaced updated files with ancient ones. My attempts to reclaim the prior blog timeline have been futile & frustrating, so...I give up the fight. Some old items will be reposted, while others will rest on my harddrive, alone. I commit to writing throughout this year, though, to quickly repopulate! It's a healthy exercise, if only for my own eyes.

And...CUT!

]]> 2005-02-28 01:39:47 -0500 Lyrics http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040620194834/LHA20050222144152/index.html http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040620194834/LHA20050222144152/index.html

Lyrics

Date Created: Feb 22, 2005, 02:41 PM

Word doc lyrics for posted MP3's

File Name	Size	Download
Beginnings	3.7 KB	Download
Straight to the table	2.8 KB	Download
Like A Sheep	2.1 KB	Download

]]> 2005-02-22 14:41:52 -0500 Changed For Good http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040628031809/LHA20050221000544/index.html http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040628031809/LHA20050221000544/index.html

Changed For Good

Date Created: Feb 21, 2005, 12:05 AM

Date Originally Posted: Oct 13, 2004, 11:33 PM
(Written October 2, 2004)
Tonight, on a relaxed drive home from the first weekend without our seventeen-month-old son, I spoke my thoughts aloud as I pined for him: "What would I do without Logan in my life?"

My husband asked, "You mean like if he died?" No, I didn't mean that...I meant who would I be if my son were not a part of me--who am I without him? I am my husband's wife, I am a TV producer, I am my parents' daughter, my sister's sister, a woman and a friend--but now, one of the most prominent roles of my identity is Mother to my first & only child. Forty-eight hours of separation had sent me into a confusing identity crisis.

I asked my grandpa over the phone, "Do you think he missed me?" He chuckled, enjoying the moment as if recalling a time in his own past. "No," he insisted, "He was having too much fun." I actually found peace in that statement, although I expected it to hurt. I didn't really want Logan to miss me in just two short days--I know the value of these times apart and wanted him to confidently build precious memories on his own. And yet, I did hope on some minor level he might notice my absence...

Mom shared some of our toddler's day with me and I jealously imagined him squatting down to find more interest in a leaf on the ground than the tall giraffes, rhinos and elephants meandering around him. "If it doesn't have wheels, Logan doesn't seem interested," Mom reported; the grin on her face was evident, even over the phone.

Who is this woman in the mirror, now that a little boy has captured her heart?

When his heavy naked body was placed against my bare skin as he took his first breaths, everything in my life changed forever. I matured in an instant. I took on new qualities of precaution and intention in my life. I turned to the Lord more from moment to moment, overwhelmed by the task set before me to raise up this young one to become a man worthy of his calling. How could I, so feeble and frail, bring up a strong and capable man? This pink wiggling infant would tower over my height some day. He would bring a woman home who brought him the kind of joy his father has brought me. If we did our job right, he would be dipped into the waters of baptism...and between his college graduation day and this frozen moment of his birth I would need all the help and guidance I could glean from the Maker and Master of his every perfectly placed toe, hair and vein.

How am I changed, my husband wants to know. But I ask, "How am I the same?" I feel like I have undergone a full transformation. I am prioritizing my possessions, my time, my finances, and my friendships in ways I never have before. I am considering my age, my position, and my ambitions, wondering what is really eternally valuable. What must I shed, cast off, or peel away, in order to best serve my Father as a mother to this little one entrusted to me? What should I learn, absorb, observe? Whom should I spend my time with? Everything is more serious...and yet I have never had more fun. I have never laughed as hard since I was his own age. I have looked at my partner anew, since he is the reason for this little man?s presence in my life. "Thank you," I think over & over again. Thank you, God. Thank you, Tom. Thank you, Mom! I am grateful for every moment. I don't take them for granted. I hold on tightly to whatever we have, anticipating that a day will come when we have no more moments to share; but I also expect that we will spend a long life together, and hope for mysterious wonderful things to transpire in our future.

He isn't my friend or lover. He is a small, innocent child who looks to me for guidance and authority. Really, what in my life will ever be the same again?

I look at my figure differently, knowing that I have changed physically because of pregnancy, childbirth and nursing. Those changes are chemical. So are the alterations to my brain. New memories of bare feet on wet grass replace recent memories of career goals, boardroom meetings and paychecks. New dreams override my hopes of days before I became a parent. I see things I haven't seen in thirty years--grasshoppers, dew, fibers in the carpet. I am more aware, and therefore, feel closer to my creator, God.

And I also find myself questioning the lessons I've learned from the women of the world. I look at my boy with total abandon--how can I expect to put him on hold to live a self-serving life? He will keep growing; nothing will slow him down. I don't want to miss a moment because everyone reports to me how quickly they all blur into the past. I plan to witness and commit to memory as many of his actions and sounds as possible.

The way he effervesces with joy at a passing cement mixer, firetruck or semi sends me to heaven. The temper tantrum he has when his grunts for a snack aren't registering in my brain fast enough remind me of my own impatience with life. The clichés of my culture, the analogies of wise men, the parables of Christ--so many things are coming into focus for me.

Who am I without my son? It's too hard to separate us now. We are now a family of three, and the weekend I've had alone with my husband has been a sweet, welcome break from daily routines, but I will run to my young man's arms tomorrow and kiss him ear to ear. Oh, joy & mystery--I am delighted to be so transformed in my new role as Mom. May I never return to the person I once was. Thanks be to God.

]]> 2005-02-21 00:09:09 -0500 50 Days of Faith (Devotionals) http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040621000934/LHA20040801014006/index.html http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040621000934/LHA20040801014006/index.html

50 Days of Faith (Devotionals)

Date Created: Aug 01, 2004, 01:40 AM

I was co-author on the majority of these 50 devotional entries. They were timed post 9/11/01, but still inspire me today. (Written with Craig von Buseck & Michael McCrary)

File Name	Size	Download
50 Days of Faith	147.8 KB	Download

]]> 2004-08-01 01:40:06 -0400 How little I know... http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040628031809/LHA20040712202715/index.html http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040628031809/LHA20040712202715/index.html function popUpWindow(strImageTitle, strImagePath, winWidth, winHeight) { var popUpWin=0; var centerWidth = (screen.width/2) - (winWidth/2); var centerHeight = (screen.height/2) - (winHeight/2); centerWidth = Math.round(centerWidth); centerHeight = Math.round(centerHeight); if(popUpWin){if(!popUpWin.closed) popUpWin.close();} popUpWin=open('','','directories=no,location=no,menubar=no,resizable=no,scrollbars=no,toolbar=no,width=' + parseInt(winWidth) + ',height=' + parseInt(winHeight) + ',left=' + parseInt(centerWidth) + ',top=' + parseInt(centerHeight)); popUpWin.focus(); popUpWin.document.open(); popUpWin.document.writeln("" + strImageTitle + ""); popUpWin.document.writeln(''); popUpWin.document.writeln("

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How little I know...

Date Created: Jul 12, 2004, 08:31 PM

...but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears.
I Corinthians 13:10 NIV

When my mother's mother died last summer the popular praise song "I Can Only Imagine" took on new meaning to me. Grandma been confined to a paralyzed body and silent world for nearly five years, so as I heard the words "Will I dance for you Jesus, or in awe of you be still?" I envisioned my precious "Graham" swinging to the Charleston and laughing with great joy at the amazing freedom her new body was allowing her in heaven. I pictured her throwing her hands up, no longer rigid, and delighting at her renewed personhood! But whatever my imagination could concoct cannot come near to what heaven must really be like. How can I, stuck to the ground by gravity, understand the release of death? How can I possibly imagine with a brain that doesn't function at full capacity, things that are not of this world or of its laws? What on earth resembles the heavenly in the slightest?

When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child.
Verse 11a

I remember being told by my mother during a particularly painful heartbreak in my high school years that the people who seemed so central to my life then would not be around later. I thought she was heartless and insensitive, but now that I am in my mid-thirties I hold dear only one friend from those days of paramount importance and recognize in Mom's advice assurance that better relationships and experiences were ahead. How could I have imagined the depth of relationships I was yet to encounter? It is like a veil lifted from my face revealing deeper truths once my ten-year reunion passed. I thought everything in my environment was critical when I was fifteen; it was dramatized foolishness to my wiser parent, but how could I possibly have understood?

When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.
Verse 11b

Before I got married I felt like an expert at relationships. I'd been in and out of enough of them! Oh, I was experienced and mature. I was ready and eager. My mother was terrified for me. As one who had been through divorce, she worried that I didn't understand the responsibilities of lifelong commitment ahead. During our honeymoon cruise I melted in a pool of dumbfounded confusion. Why wasn't I able to master this? How could it be so rough so quickly? I had believed that any marriage between two people could survive with resolve and faith. Then I discovered that married life is the greatest relational challenge invented. It requires unparalleled self-sacrifice. It requires acrobatic negotiation. Marriage humbles you to a point of tears some days.

But I have fallen off the couch laughing so hard with my husband and best friend that I thought I'd split right down my side. The overwhelming unity I feel with him when we have found our way together to agreement feels like a peek at heaven. If only everyone could have it this grand! We have put our share of work into developing what we share. As the literal bridal veil was lifted from my face on my wedding day, it symbolically represented the taking away of naivite. No matter how much I heard from others, I did not appreciate the discipline of marriage until I walked through it myself.

[Love] always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Verse 7

I have cared for dozens of children through my life. As I became a teenager I took on the responsibility for three children while their parents went out for an evening date, and I loved the job so much I signed on with family after family for thirteen years. I was a nanny, a mother’s helper, a professional and volunteer childcare provider. I loved children; or so I thought. But how could I possibly have understood love at all until that moment when my own firstborn one-year-old threw a temper tantrum during his first disciplinary "time-out" and I had to help him work through his frustration? I looked at him and held his hand and waited out his screaming until he calmly realized that increasing his volume would not speed my response. In that moment I loved him more than I had yet, because I watched him grow through a difficult lesson, and I was the one responsible to help him work it out. The future decisions he makes will be, in great part, dependent on the choices I make in his upbringing. I must protect him. I must trust God with his safety. I must hope for his best possible future at every moment. I must never give up.

An entire sphere of life was hidden from me until I became a mother. No matter how many children I took under my wing as a babysitter, nothing compared to parenthood. How could I have known, even in part? How could I have comprehended this adoration, effusive, overflowing, overabundant?

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
Verse 12

Throughout our lives one layer after another falls away as new milestones come and go. We think we know how the future will appear. We think we are prepared. We think we understand our elder authorities' perspectives. We plan. We dream. We imagine.

Truly? We don't understand a glimpse of what lies ahead here on earth or in heaven. So, we might try to draw out in our minds streets of gold and jeweled crowns, unique castles, angels, God…but whatever we attempt to wrap our minds around doesn't compare to what is ahead by even a shadow.

When I became a mother my own mom got a new title, too: "Grandmother." Until I see my own firstborn's firstborn I cannot comprehend the overwhelming adoration she feels for my child. He is new hope. A new life. A new future. He is a miracle. I see this, myself, but feel somehow that her senses of these realities are heightened. What do I know of it? Nothing. Yet.

…where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.
Verse 8b

What awesome truth. I know nothing of the future. I know so little of heaven. I can only dream and trust that it is grander and wider and deeper than my deepest, widest, grandest dreams!

That gives me the freedom to relax in my life. It gives me liberty to accept even difficult days as fleeting. I am able to have a godly perspective on seemingly lofty priorities of the natural world, seeing in context that all things will work together for me, so long as I listen, trust and follow. I can rest in the gift of peace even amid chaos.

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Jeremiah 29:11

Just as each new milestone of your life has taken you by surprise, you must trust that the turns and bends ahead will also be astonishing! Delight in the not knowing until you arrive at the next destination. Focus on your today and every gift given for this moment and time.

Maybe you are single. What freedom you have to serve God with your whole heart and without distraction! Take this time to be satisfied with yourself, because the stronger you are individually the better you can serve the Lord now and in the future, whether or not you find a life mate. The key word is satisfaction.

Maybe you're newly wed. Slow down and get to know your spouse. If children are in your future these moments together are vital to building a solid foundation for your growing family. Don't rush off and leave your partner behind. Value each other. You chose one another and now you have a responsibility to grow together, casting distractions aside. Help the other feel loved. Remembered. Honored. Be content with your helpmate.

Perhaps you're in school, studying with your eyes taped open. Soak it all in. Don't squander the gift of your education. Trust what you're being taught, but test it for yourself, as well, until it becomes real and true for you. Your mind is perfectly fertile for the hatching of creative ideas about your path ahead. Dream large dreams for yourself! Keep your eyes wide open for possibilities and grab at them with your whole heart when they appear before you.

Or you're a sleep-deprived new parent. You've sickened of the cliché “They grow so fast,” and yet…you're finding that to be true. Do everything in your power to spend as much time as possible with your child in her first few years. Through these moments you will teach her how responsive God is to her needs by your own responsiveness. She will look to you for boundaries and permissions. She will mimic your actions and your words, as we are to mimic our heavenly Father. Make certain the words she hears the most are yours and are edifying—not the television set or the voices of a rotating door of childcare workers. You have been given this gift for this moment. In eighteen years you will want to gather it all back up again and wrap yourself with memories. Celebrate parenthood for all that it is.

You might even have been recently retired or widowed, disabled or unemplyed. I have not been where you are, yet, but I understand even now that each phase of life holds tremendous potential for the expansion of our horizons. What we must do when our vision is clouded is realize there is a veil to be removed. Ask Jesus to help you peel it away so that you can see with new eyes whatever he longs to bring to you.

Most importantly, do not fear uncertainty no matter what phase you are living now! There is so much more to learn. There is so much more that you cannot see. Yet.

Now listen, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money." Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, "If it is the Lord's will, we will live and do this or that."
James 4:13-15a

]]> 2004-07-12 20:31:56 -0400 On research... http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040725014244/LHA20040708000131/index.html http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040725014244/LHA20040708000131/index.html function popUpWindow(strImageTitle, strImagePath, winWidth, winHeight) { var popUpWin=0; var centerWidth = (screen.width/2) - (winWidth/2); var centerHeight = (screen.height/2) - (winHeight/2); centerWidth = Math.round(centerWidth); centerHeight = Math.round(centerHeight); if(popUpWin){if(!popUpWin.closed) popUpWin.close();} popUpWin=open('','','directories=no,location=no,menubar=no,resizable=no,scrollbars=no,toolbar=no,width=' + parseInt(winWidth) + ',height=' + parseInt(winHeight) + ',left=' + parseInt(centerWidth) + ',top=' + parseInt(centerHeight)); popUpWin.focus(); popUpWin.document.open(); popUpWin.document.writeln("" + strImageTitle + ""); popUpWin.document.writeln(''); popUpWin.document.writeln("

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On research...

Date Created: Jul 08, 2004, 12:01 AM

Research is formalized curiosity. It is poking and prying with a purpose."
-- Zora Neale Huston

I've been trying to nail exactly why I love research so much, and found this quotation this evening that seems to say it exactly.

]]> 2004-07-08 00:04:11 -0400 Suit Yourself... http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040628031809/LHA20040628031922/index.html http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040628031809/LHA20040628031922/index.html function popUpWindow(strImageTitle, strImagePath, winWidth, winHeight) { var popUpWin=0; var centerWidth = (screen.width/2) - (winWidth/2); var centerHeight = (screen.height/2) - (winHeight/2); centerWidth = Math.round(centerWidth); centerHeight = Math.round(centerHeight); if(popUpWin){if(!popUpWin.closed) popUpWin.close();} popUpWin=open('','','directories=no,location=no,menubar=no,resizable=no,scrollbars=no,toolbar=no,width=' + parseInt(winWidth) + ',height=' + parseInt(winHeight) + ',left=' + parseInt(centerWidth) + ',top=' + parseInt(centerHeight)); popUpWin.focus(); popUpWin.document.open(); popUpWin.document.writeln("" + strImageTitle + ""); popUpWin.document.writeln(''); popUpWin.document.writeln("

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Suit Yourself...

Date Created: Jun 28, 2004, 03:27 AM

I stare at the right hand of my closet where my suits hang, still pressed and ready to wear, although dust might be collecting after a year of neglect. Will I ever need these again? And if so, will they still be in style? Who else might need them more than I? Do I dare depart with outfits, so carefully chosen in my favorite colors and fit, and close the door on my professional pursuits? I glace down at my rough urban cargo pants and tank top. Memories of important boardroom meetings with CEO's and Presidents return to me. I recall my private office with a window where I often watched the sunset as I labored over reports. I remember eating lunch on the run with the office door barely ajar.

My 14-month-old son cranes his neck to peer up at me, babbling about something exceptional, though I can only guess what. I feel the tug of the world on one hand, the tender touch of my child on the other. Does my value come from a finance-producing job? I craved this career of motherhood for so long when it was unattainable and now that I am a mom I want to embrace it fully.

Becoming a first-time mom in my 30's challenges me to press into the core of my being to find answers about my true purpose as a woman. Being a work-at-home-mom (or WAHM) continues to force the issue—what am I to do with myself day-by-day? I work into the wee hours after my son (and often my husband) sleeps soundly. I remind myself that my research contributes to excellence in television broadcasting. During Logan's naps I make outbound calls collecting information to organize later. I do my work well and the TV producers compliment me. These are the kudos one covets in corporate America, but they fall nearly flat on me now. Instead I long to hear my child say "Mom." At that word I melt with overwhelming pride.

I wish I didn't have to work at anything but listening to his every utterance, but I am Generation X. We are burdened with heavy expenses like rising gas prices, high taxes, and a social security we never expect to receive. Retirement seems like a pipedream, and our highly-prized higher educations have put heavy debts on our backs. We don't own new cars, and we've purchased a home with a modest mortgage.

For my husband and me it is the worry about retirement that drives me to midnight sessions with my PowerBook G4. We own private disability policies, life insurances, e*trade accounts and 403b's, hoping they will be enough on which to survive in our 60's and beyond. So the red ink on the green sheets of our budget drives me to work part-time from home for supplemental income.

I clip coupons, shop sales, and re-gift to keep our bottom line within sight. We post items on sale at eBay and wonder when our breakthrough might come. I pray, "God? Help!" I trust he knows the full context of my plea.

So? Do I donate that sweet periwinkle suit to another whose struggles are more than my own? This is a defining choice for me. I turn away from the rows of hanging jackets and slacks toward my son. "What do you need, Logan?" I ask sincerely. He points and grunts and begins to toddle away from me and the walk-in closet, so I follow him to his room where he withdraws his favorite board book and holds it up to me eagerly with the sound I know to mean "Read to me all day!" So I do. I forget all time and dedicate myself to this moment and my miracle child.

Tomorrow I'll call Salvation Army for a pick-up. At least I can give away half of them…can't I?

]]> 2004-06-28 03:27:07 -0400 Legacy CD http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040620194834/LHA20040621000959/index.html http://homepage.mac.com/lisandrea/blogwavestudio/LH20040620194834/LHA20040621000959/index.html Legacy CD

Virginia Beach, VA