THAT neighbor, too?

Thankfully, not everyone has a neighbor like that.  You know, the cranky, rude, curmudgeon in that house right next to yours.  But some of us do.  And some of us have.  Do you have to love that neighbor?  How do you love that neighbor?

We had one of those.  His name is Rob and he's still there.  We are not.  Rob is a rather large man with a very sweet, quiet wife.  She spoke to us only if Rob wasn't around; he spoke to us only when he was threatening us as in, "Keep your *^$%^&** kids off my property," and "Don't get your *&%#@$^&* lawn mower on my side of the line."  And when I say line, I mean line.  Rob actually pounded two stakes into the ground to mark the corners of our property and then he strung a line between the two.  It made it extremely difficult for us to make sure we mowed all of our property without taking the mower over the line (and he would know as he always made sure to stand right next to it while we mowed, towering over the poor soul pushing the mower, menacingly daring someone to go a millimeter over the line.  Heaven forbid if we had ever accidentally split that line with the mower.  If he happened to be home from work when the children and I were playing in the driveway or waiting for the bus at the end of it, he'd stand right there, just over his line, glowering at us.  One morning we woke up to find our pet rabbit dead and bloody, never confirmed but suspiciously not-from-natural causes. On several occasions he threatened to break our kids' *$#^*#@* legs, once standing outside our front door yelling at John while I herded the kids into a separate room and closed the door.  On those occasions, we called the police.  In fact, the neighbor on the other side of Rob, a very tiny postal worker with a heart of gold, caring for his ailing mother, also called the police after Rob pushed him.  Apparently, he got too close to the line on that side of the property.

Rob is clearly mentally ill.  At least that's the only way my mind can wrap around a person such as that.   We called the police when our children were so clearly threatened.  But the rest of the time?  That was my dream home, to be my forever home, and Rob was the only negative aspect of living there. We talked with our children about loving Rob even though we didn't like what he was doing.  We reminded them often to keep their play and toys far away from the dividing line. We tried to serve him in ways that didn't put our lives in danger.  If he was home, we shoveled snow just to the line.  If he wasn't, we shoveled the whole sidewalk around his property.  When we delivered cookies at Christmas, we left his at the door rather than wait until we knew he was home.  We also prayed for Rob.  We prayed that God would change his heart, that Rob would see our desire to do good.  We prayed for our safety.  And in full disclosure, I often prayed that Rob would get a job transfer and need to move to another city, far, far, away. Instead, God gave us the nudge that we should move our family to another job, another part of the state.  But Rob is still there.  When we drive our kids past the old house, we often see that infamous vehicle in the driveway, the one that brings feelings of dread all over again. I am thankful to know that there is another family still living in the neighborhood who regularly prayer walk the block and include Rob and his wife in their prayers.

So, yes, loving our neighbor in the general sense means we need to love the unlovable and our enemies, and the same applies to our actual neighbors, too.

Love your neighbor

One of the basic foundations of the Christian faith is, "Love your neighbor." We teach our children to follow these words and are very careful to model this mandate as well.  We spend a lot of time showing them that this doesn't mean neighbor neighbor, but giving them a broad definition of neighbor as anyone with whom you come in contact.

Somewhere along the way we forgot that neighbor can still mean neighbor.  We got so busy telling ourselves that neighbor means the homeless in the closest city, and the immigrants without family, and even the starving children a continent away that we forgot the people who live next to, across from, and two doors over.  Our neighbors.

When we moved here 10 years ago, we didn't plan to stay.  The move was so fast that in buying a home we were just looking for a suitable available building; we didn't have time to research neighborhoods, schools, and communities.  We just picked the best of the options given to us, packed up, and moved.  But it didn't take long to realize that God had placed us right where He wanted us.  And moving again seemed so daunting and labor intensive that we haven't visited that thought in years.

That doesn't mean that we wouldn't love more land (chickens?  yes!) or more kitchen counter space (it's better not to look around so as to avoid coveting) or more square footage (more bedrooms, anyone?) but we have replaced desire with love for our neighbors.  Maybe someday God will call us to move but for now, we're here for a reason.

Recently I invited several friends who love their neighbors well to come into my parenting class to talk about how they put this love into action.  As one of them so aptly reminded us, "These are your people," and that's how I want to remember my neighbors.  Yes, these are my people, this is where God planted us, so we will serve those planted around us.

Get your shovels, kids, we've got some work to do!

Going out of business

It was cold and windy and the man was bundled up as tightly as he could be.  He stood by the road holding his Going Out of Business sign.  We felt him staring at us as we drove into the fast food restaurant just feet from his advertising spot.

My heart went out to him.  Not in a "let's adopt him" sort of way but in a "no one grows up saying they want to stand along a busy road in the middle of winter holding a sign" kind of way.

We talk about serving others.  We talk about being Jesus' hands and feet.  We ask God to show us how we can shine His light through us.  "Let's buy him a sandwich."

The Good Doctor wasn't sure he had heard me correctly.

"What?"

I said, "Let's buy him a sandwich.  Before we leave, I think we should take him some lunch."

So we did.  And as we drove away, I saw him digging into that bag and enjoying his simple lunch.

The prayer running through my head was not just for my children to catch the joy of serving, but for that man to catch a glimpse of the One who loves Him no matter what.  The One who is proud of him just for being him.

The rest of the story

• After I wrote the red shoes explanation, I received a message from our friend, Ashley.  Ashley is amazingly gifted in the arts and we have enjoyed the results of her scenic design through several seasons.  Ashley is also the giver of our red shoes.  In her message she explained "the rest of the story."  It is with her permission that I share this today:

  
  

  "I enjoyed your red shoe blog. I just want to add a little more to it for you. Converse shoes are a big part of my life. More than the fad that it is for others at Allenberry.

  
  I am a very big girl. Finding shoes as a teen was not easy. You're lucky if they have a size 10, let alone a 12. I spent my childhood trying to find men's clothes that weren't overly masculine. Converse were fortunately a part of that. I could get fun colors and feel less bad about being a little oversized. Converse became a big part of my identity. When I looked down at myself I saw the shoes; the white toe and the laces that contrasted the bright color of the shoes.
  

  
  In college I began the shoe photo collection. I've never been a fan of my picture being taken, but I found a fun way to represent myself in pictures.

  
  When my friend, Tiffany, left California for the far off land of Pennsylvania I would send her pictures of familiar places and remind her that I missed her. My very first shoe picture was my faded blue chucks in front of a painting that was at a place we used to go to listen to live jazz music.

  
  I liked the format. I liked the idea. I liked the opportunity for expression while maintaining simplicity. I could show where I had been. Where I was. Where I was going. All from my perspective. With a picture of my shoes I could show that I enjoyed a sunset, or took a hot air balloon ride with a friend. It fit me.

  
  Soon others caught on. I would receive texts from friends who were traveling, and rather than an explanation, it would be a pair of shoes in front of an iconic view or structure. I loved it. I loved knowing that I had even lightly influenced their view of life or the world. 

  
  

  I ended up calling my series of pictures, 'Wandering Souls.'  It seemed very appropriate. Whenever I was in a new place; physically or just in my life, I would look at myself, at my shoes, and want to capture the moment. Not wanting to let go of the present, or wanting to share it I would take a photo.

  
  My shoes have taken me many places, and with them I have met so many wonderful people. My shoes and I will continue to wander, and we are so thankful that our souls bumped into yours."

  
  

  The gift of the red Converse was meaningful before, now even more so. We can't wait for Victor to add some shoe pictures to Ashley's collection.

  
  

  Many people have asked me how long Victor is.  Funny, but it was something that had never come up and I kept forgetting to ask.  Well, last evening I finally remembered.  At birth, Victor was 12.5 inches.  Because of the dollar bill picture, someone has been referring to him as "A Buck and a Half."  Last night he measured 17 inches.  He has been growing and gaining steadily since the family was here a few weeks ago.  Keep it up!

  
  

  We had a surprise appointment with Annie, the OT this morning.  Victor downed that bottle in a record 30 minutes.  Okay, so he's not the neatest eater, but Annie gave him a grade of "quite impressive" and whenever he wakes up and shows cues that he's ready, he's allowed to have a bottle!  She said that 2 or 3 more today would be great but we will take whatever we can get, going at his pace.  But clearly, Victor wants to get home as quickly as I do.  Thank you for your prayers.

  
  

  Katrina and I had a great weekend of movie watching, eating, and Victor holding.  We're looking ahead to spending the 4th together.  And I met a new friend.  There are currently 3 adoptive families beside and across from each other in the NICU.  I met one family a few days ago and today met the the other.  She is so sweet and we're going to plan some time together with me and her family.  And last week I met another adoptive family who is staying in a hotel in the area, waiting for things to play out.  It almost feels like familiar faces.

  

  
  

  Thank you for your prayers.  This is Victor, praying before Annie came around to us.  He's praying for every breath, great eats, gaining weight, and going home.  Please join us in remembering these things in prayer.  

  

  
  

  
  

Seeing red

Those of you who know us outside of The King Zoo and Funny Farm, know that we wear red Converse to all of our concerts.  Well, not quite all.  We don't always wear them for formal affairs like weddings and Christmas concerts.  Sometimes we do.

So do you know the story behind our red shoes?

Several of our children have been on stage at Allenberry Playhouse every season for the past seven years.  From the very beginning, we made certain that we got to know the people our kids were hanging out with.  At first it was selfish, I admit.  It's not easy to drop your children off with a bunch of strangers.  We figured if they knew us, and knew our children, they'd help keep an extra eye on them.  But it didn't take us long to realize what the life of an actor is like; most of the friends we were making were here for a show, maybe two, a season or two if they were lucky, and then they moved on.  They were essentially homeless, living with the stress of wondering where the next job would be, where they would go if nothing was lined up, and how they would make a living until the next audition and hopefully the next acting job.

From that time on, we made it our mission to make our home their home.  We took them homemade treats, we invited them over for meals, we sent care packages when they left, and in the rare and unfortunate event that they ended up in the hospital, we went visiting.  Of course, they made it easy.  Theater folks, like my daughter, brighten the room upon entering.  They are funny and know how to have a good time.  They are gracious and easy to please.  We have loved getting to know so many of them much better than "Hi, how are you?" and have great friendships all over the US because of the friendships made at Allenberry.

I've already shared how our friend, Katrina, went from Allenberry to Alaska to Utah and how her presence here is no coincidence.  We've visited many friends in NYC, traveled out of state to perform in the wedding of two theater friends, followed them to various theaters to see their shows, gotten backstage passes through their connections and even bumped into one on the Disney Cruise.  Since that's a fantastic story, it must be shared here.  We knew that when Todd left Allenberry, he was headed to a Disney cruise ship.  We didn't know which one or how long he was to be there.  Several years later, as we headed to the airport to embark on the first leg of our Disney cruise journey, we talked about whether or not he might still be there but figured not only was it unlikely that he still had that job, what were the chances of it being on this ship?  We got on the boat and prepared for the first safety drill.  As we put on our life vests and lined up along the side of the boat, someone said, "Hey, I know you."  Simultaneously John and I said, "Todd????"  Sure enough, he was still there, and still performing as _________.  If I told you, I'd have to kill you.  Or someone from Disney would come to Utah to kill me.  We had a nice lunch with him later in the week where we caught up with him, asked him a lot of questions, and heard him answer, "I can neither confirm nor deny" multiple times.  It's a charmed life.

Anywho, one day a little over a year ago, John and I were on property and one of our very dear friends who is also exceptionally talented (You know who you are, thank you very much) said, "Wait here.  I have something for you."  She came back with a very large box.  Inside that box we found seven smaller boxes, each containing a pair of red Converse sneakers.  You see, Converse are their thing and now, not only were they one of us, we were one of them.

Photos courtesy Ashley Strain

Not only did each pair fit perfectly, but because she knew that two of the kids already owned the Converse that they had worn in the Christmas show that year (who knew that elves wear red Converse?), she had bought them a size larger so they could grow into them.  She told us that the shoes were for all of us, for all we had done for her and her friends.  We were blown away!  We decided that we had to wear them for all concerts forevermore to remind us that a little love and kindness will go a long way.

And we also used them to announce that we were adopting again.

So when I received a package in the mail from this same friend, I'll admit I had a feeling I knew what was in that box.  Sure enough, she blessed us with a pair of red Converse for Victor.  Her note read, "I've sent a little gift for Victor.  I know that he has some growing to do before the little Converse booties fit him, and once they do he'll probably kick them off anyway, but I didn't want him to feel left out.  Now he has his own pair of red shoes."  I say he's going to wear them to every concert whether they're too big or not, whether he kicks them off or not!

And at 4 lb. 13 oz. I think Victor is well on his way to fitting into those booties.  Nothing new.  Still waiting to eat, learning to take nice, oxygen-filled breaths, and growing.  Each day is a day closer to home.  Please pray us home!