Oh, The Places Milk Will Go

As a writer, well, you know, at least as someone who keeps calling herself a "writer"; like when I say offhand that I'm going to try to get some "work" done and someone says, "oh, what kind of work do you do?" and I answer "I'm a freelance writer" - since I keep telling people that, I thought I might as well get out some of that old paper and put something together. So, as I wade through this box of old habits, I thought I'd share a few, starting with this one.

Oh, The Places Milk Will Go

I had heard this could happen, but I didn't believe.

I didn't think it was possible until it happened to me.

I was eating my lunch of pizza and yogurt, with milk to drink and pie for dessert.

I saved some of my milk to go with my pie, and listened to jokes from my friend Levi.

We laugh a lot because his jokes are the best.

Our lunch table is always the loudest.

But, laughter is not always a good thing. I was about to learn

a lesson in laughing and eating in turn.

You can't do both at the same time if you want your food to go down the right side.

I was swallowing my milk right at the punch line

when my laugh and my milk came out side by side.

I was quick to close my mouth so I wouldn't spit my milk all over the place where my friends sit.

That wasn't enough to keep it all in.

Out through my nose came a milky white sprayin'.

Now, that was so funny I thought I would burst, but, when I laughed, I just made it worse.

Along came this girl who heard all about it.

She said, "You aint seen nothin' yet!"

I quit laughing when I saw what she had done.

I bet my eyes were the size of the sun.

When she sucked her milk up her nose through a straw...

and pushed it out her eyeballs...

I knew I'd seen it all.

Ask the Author: Which one are you?

Readers fall in love with characters, and they love to hate others. Sometimes readers wish they could be a character, and they often wonder aloud, to the author, "Which one are you?"

If I'm honest, I'll tell you that I'm everyone and no one. I have to become each of them in order to write them... but their stories are their own, not mine. This is fiction, my own story is much too dull a tale.

Some characters have qualities I wish I had; they are prettier or smarter than me; often they are stronger than me - Emily is able to exact revenge on an abuse where I could not. In some ways, I become stronger because of them.

Other times, they are who I hope I'll never become. Their faith is weaker than my own; I think they would not be so distressed by their circumstances or desperate to change them if they trusted God. If I can learn what drives Claire to take her own life, perhaps I hope this understanding will help me avoid the same fate.

I am a part of every character I write, and they are all a part of me; but, I am none of them.

What a Pastor's Wife Really Does

There are plenty of books on the market that claim to tell women how to be a great pastor's wife; how not to be a stressed out pastor's wife; how to love your position as a pastor's wife; how to survive living in the fishbowl atmosphere of life as a pastor's wife...

These books are usually filled with stories, and the stories you don't read about in books can be heard through the grapevine.

Have you heard the one about the couple who were having marital relations in the bedroom of the parsonage when a trustee walked in? They started the search for a house to buy that very day.

Have you heard the one about the female parishioner who fell passionately in love with her already married pastor? She has been referred to a professional for psychiatric care.

Have you heard the one about the pastor's family who arrived with their moving truck to find the parsonage already occupied? They camped out in the Sunday School class rooms while the squatters were evicted.

Every wife has a story.

As my husband nears graduation day and the prospect of his first call, I wonder how I would respond to some of these situations. But, my experience as the wife of a Seminarian; the wife of a field worker; and the wife of a vicar, has shown me that the blessings of this life far outweigh the possible awkward situations.

The blessings are tremendous  - from hundreds of Christmas cards to free farm fresh produce to a mailbox full of anniversary and birthday cards to passed down clothing for the kids and free food... did I mention that pastor's families seem to get a lot of free food?

Have you heard the one about the congregation that paid off their pastor's student loan debt?

Have you heard the one about the congregation that bought their pastor a new car?

The blessings are so many that I have decided that next year when I am a pastor's wife, I will have to spend all of my time doing what all pastor's wives must spend their days busily doing... writing Thank You notes.