A Little Slice of Heaven in Elk Grove Village

Last weekend I met with the three other men on my team, Ed, Larry and Bob. We are part of a ministry, organized through the Orchard Church in Arlington Heights, IL. We are part of a larger group of guys known at the church and by our assigned care-receivers as Men in Action (MIA). We operate in small teams of 3 or 4 and our purpose is to help with chores, small maintenance projects, repairs, yard work. The care receivers are women who are either single mothers or widows. Normally our service days are scheduled for the second Saturday of each month. Last weekend was an exception and my team returned to Donnas' home, again on the following Saturday in order to get the last of the fallen leaves out of her yard and out to the curbside for the final pickup by the village.

The day was warmer than expected in mid-November, and with Thanksgiving only days away, this day somehow felt different than most service days. Of course, Donna is always very thankful for our help, but I felt a little more thankful for the sunshine today and the privilege of living in the tidy northwest Chicago suburban community, serving this woman with this loyal band of dedicated brothers. Men in Action is more than just a service-oriented ministry, it is also intended to be as much relationship-centered as it is task-oriented. At the same time we also purpose to demonstrate the love of God in action and to make our walk with Christ more present in the community.

It was very cool to watch, as we raked, blew and bagged leaves, many of the nearby neighbors were doing the same. We exchanged some friendly banter with the lady across the street. Ed walked across to help her as she muttered something about her slow-moving son, who was supposed to be out there helping. We also had some friendly exchange with the next door neighbor, Bob. Bob is an elderly man who has loaned us some assistance in the past in the way of an extension ladder and some essential tools for other unforeseen circumstances we've encountered. There is another man down the block who walks past with his dog during times we have been at work. He always stops to chat while also offering any tools or assistance we might need.

After we complete our work projects and prepare to pack up our trunks, we gather in a circle, join hands and pray together with Donna. Since we were out in the front lawn, we invited the next door neighbor, Bob, to join us. He was more than willing to be included in our circle. Just as we finished and our circle broke, a woman came by and smiled and exchanged some pleasantries with neighbor, Bob, and shared that she had her comfy shoes on today as she was just preparing to feed some 650 people at a nearby hall. I told the bubbly lady that she had just missed our little prayer circle and that had she been only moments earlier she could have joined us too.

As we all parted for our respective destinations and pre-holiday business, I thought how nice to witness these moments of small-town fellowship unfurl so naturally. It was like Elk Grove Village, at least on this Saturday morning, looked something more like a scene from the idyllic town of Mayberry. For me, it was a little slice of Heaven on earth.

One Good Panty Story Deserves Another…

This is not to say my panty story is better than your panty story (I'm referring to Zep's last panty post). I was just reminded of a true story that happened to me some years back that involved a wayward pair of very young girl's underwear. The young girl, in this case, happens to be my daughter. She must've been about eight years old at the time. Anyway, she's in her second year at college now, I know she follows this blog and I'm quite certain this will be the first time that she is made aware of this embarrassing (to me) story.

I work for a research company in Chicago. This is one of those great companies that offer many nice benefits for their employees, including catered lunches, free soft drinks, happy hours, 401k and lots of other perks. One of those perks was a paid health club membership. I took advantage of this and probably used the club 2-3 times a week. I didn't' keep a locker at the club, so I typically took my gym bag home at the end of the week, put my work-out clothes in the laundry and on Sunday evening, I would pack my bag with fresh-washed shirts, shorts and socks.

Well, as washed and heat-dried clothes are wont to do; they often stick together due to what's commonly referred to as "static cling". Static cling is what caused a pair of my young daughter's panties to attach themselves to my gym clothes. So you can imagine my embarrassment as I was changing in the locker room and a pair of little girl's underwear falls out of my bag and onto the floor.

This happened in front of at least two witnesses. So what's the best way to react? I was, of course, caught off guard myself, but it only took me a few seconds to piece it all together. I could literally feel the judgmental sideways glances that were boring through me. I quickly scooped the garment, stuffed it into my bag, I thought I could easily explain…I realized at that moment, there was nothing I could've said that would've made this situation any better. There are times when it's best to keep silent and just let people think what they're going to think. This was one of those rare occasions.

A story I've been wanting to tell.....

There are some words that should be creeds to live by.  “Keep your underwear in a safe and secure place” is an example of this.  One recent morning, I packed my messenger bag with everything I needed to get me through the work day.  I was planning on working out and decided I should bring a change of “underthings” with me.  I was rushing to get out of the house and carelessly put them in the front portion of my messenger bag.  They joined the intimate club of pens, miscellaneous change, gum, tweezers, bits of paper, receipts (that are probably no longer needed), things that I just don’t know what to do with and my train pass.   Having mastered packing up my bag and getting into the car, I made it without challenge to the train.  I usually expect to travel by train with little or no episode, but some days this is not to be.  It started off like any normal train ride.  Got into my seat, adjusted my messenger bag on the metal rack (as I’m on the top part of the train), pulled my book out and began to read.  I realized after the 3^rd paragraph that I deviated from habit by not pulling out my train pass.  I put my book down, carefully saving my place, swung my knees out of my seat and leaned over unzipping the front compartment of my messenger bag.  I didn’t unzip it all the way in some weird conservation of time and zipper opening.  I reached in, found my pass and began to pull it out.  For some reason it was stuck on something so I tugged a little harder and whatever it was stuck on, gave way, causing me to flip my hand up and out of the bag and into the air.  Unfortunately, my red flowered unders were attached to the train pass until I flipped my hand in the air.  At that point, they were airborne.  I had been fumbling a bit so all eyes were already on me in the train.  Now all eyes were on the downward decent of my parachuting unders.  My first thought was thank God it was a pair of nice ones. I watched, with others as they gently glided onto the lap of a lady in the lower section of the train.  The woman quickly grabbed the offending unders, reached up into the sky and offered them back to me. After a hurried, “um, thanks” I shoved them back into my pack, sat down, picked up my book and began to read.  My fellow passengers settled back into their weekday morning routines of paper reading, ipod listening and laptop typing.  The rest of the train ride was mercifully uneventful.  I tried to gather up my self respect and appear as if nothing had happened.  We pulled into the train station and I grabbed my bag and stood so that I could make a quick exit.  Unfortunately the train was still in motion and we lurched forward as it came to a complete stop.  I lost my balance and fell into the man behind me, who caught me in his arms.  I heavily apologized and felt like a fool.  I felt even more the clown when after I said to the man “oh my. I’m so sorry!! Excuse me!” he replied “that is okay, after all I’ve already seen your underwear”.

Bring It On, Old Man Winter...

I don't understand why so many people have a problem with the days getting shorter and the temperature falling during this time of the year. If you live here, in the Midwest, it's just the way it is. I say embrace it. I am one of the few who seem to have no problem with time change, cold weather, cloudy days or big storms (providing there is no serious power loss, flooding or major damage to person or property). I love the idea of burrowing in a down comforter with a good book (or The Good Book) as a winter storm rages outside.

This weekend we must remember to change our clocks. We roll it back one hour so that it will be dark by 5:00 pm, when I'm getting out of work. This event is very depressing to many people. As for me – I really like it…really! I love the chill that November brings; I love the idea of walking in the cooler temperature. I like the leaves blowing around and the warm glow coming from the homes of tree-lined neighborhoods as I imagine families having dinner together, and just doing family things in the cozy confines of their private little nests. I love the time after Halloween leading up to Thanksgiving as it conjures for me even more Rockwellian impressions.

The time between Thanksgiving and Christmas is almost magical as the first snows begin to fall and the holiday treatments begin to adorn the homes in honor of my Lord, the smell of wood burning in the fireboxes and a warm glass of wine awaits my arrival. This is my season and I never dread the shorter days, the colder nights or the harried pace. And I know that soon enough the pendulum swings the other way. Before I know it, I will be blogging about my spring garden preparation.