The Twelve Blogs of Christmas (5): Little Drummer Girl

 

I have no gift to bring
That's fit to give a King...
Shall I play for you?


I played my drum for Him,
I played my best for Him.
Then He smiled at me.

I thought I would go back to my original intention of The Twelve Blogs of Christmas and pick an obscure Christmas song lyric that oddly relates to my life.  This one comes from two different vereses of The Little Drummer Boy.  I realized it's hard to think of that song without the excess "pa rum pa pum pum rrrrrum pum pum pum" interludes but in the words above I think there's a pretty profound encounter with Christ going on.  The drummer boy is lamenting - in the line just before the ones I chose - that he is a poor boy, just like the Christ child.  Unlike the magi with their extravagent offerings of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, the fictional percussionist has nothing to give...except his service.  He realizes that although he has no material goods, he can do for Jesus what he is good at doing: he can drum. In the next verse, following some poetry about musical barnyard animals we find that the drummer boy not only plays for Jesus, he plays his best for Jesus.  I think that's the offering that God is always looking for.  And the next line always gives me a little chill - "Then He smiled at me".

There's something about Christmas that sends the volunteerism bug echoing through people.  There's that goody-goody happy feeling that people get when they help others and with a sort of infectious cheer everyone jumps on that band wagon at Christmas time.  But I wonder if maybe there's an even better reason to serve.  Maybe by giving the gift of ourselves, giving the very best of ourselves, we can bring a smile to the face of God.  What better reward for the gift of serving - and not just any efforts, but our very best - than to see God smiling? 

For the seventh year in a row Tony and I are serving at the East Aurora Gift Mart with Community 4:12.  For those that haven't heard me gush about this awesome event, our church partners with other churches and businesses to collect a massive amount of new toys ($6-20 each).   We then bring these toys over to schools in East Aurora and while we host a Christmas party for the kids at the schools, we set up a gift mart and sell the toys to the parents for $2 each.  The money raised then goes back to the schools.  It acts as a win-win-win situation in that the children have a blast, the parents get affordable gifts while still having the dignity to purchase their own, and it's a fundraiser for the schools.  We call the model giving a hand-up rather than a hand-out.  Seven years ago we began this endeavor at a single school in East Aurora.  Now we have two gift marts in East Aurora serving four different elementary schools as well as a gift mart in East Joliet too.

At multiple events throughout the year - and especially at Christmas time - serving always reminds me of The Little Drummer Boy.  I don't have a lot to give God in terms of material goods.  My entire yearly salary is probably less than what some people at my church tithe.  But I can serve.  That's the song I can play.  And I will play for Him.  And I will play my best for Him.

Then He smiled at me.
Me and my drum.

A Conversation

I was at the Naperville train station this morning going through one of my waiting-for-the-train routines of reading the headlines through the glass of the newspaper vending machines. The Chicago Sun Times and The Naperville Sun both displayed front page pictures of the flag display at rotary hill: 2009 flags on the hill for Veteran's Day 2009. As I looked at the beautiful photos, a stranger's voice behind me spoke up.

"Have you been over to see it yet?"

I glanced up and saw a young man, probably around my age or just past thirty at the oldest. I hesitate to admit it but he looked like my typical image of a young Naperville resident. His hair was shaggy and spiked with gel in the I-meant-to-look-messy way that seems popular now and his clothes appeared a combination of Abercrombie and Gap though no conspicuous labels were shown.

"No," I replied to his question. "But some of my friends visited and I saw some great pictures."

"It's amazing," he said plainly. There was no trace of awe or inspiration in his voice, it was as though he was stating simple fact, not opinion.

"They did a great job with it," I said gesturing to the pictures on the papers in front of us. "It's a really...powerful gesture." I searched for the right word, but 'powerful' seemed to convey the imagery created best.

"You got that right," he concurred. "Five years in the marines and I was moved to tears."

In a stroke of awful timing, he conveyed this last fact to me just as he turned to walk toward the train that pulled up behind us.

"Thank you!" I called after him, but aside from a brief nod of his head he had nothing more to add to our exchange. I hope sincerity echoed in my voice; sincerity, pride, and honor.

A brief pang of shame struck me as he walked away. I never would have guessed this young commuter was a veteran. If he were in full uniform I may have saluted, applauded or even bought him a morning coffee to show my appreciation. All I could do though was call out my hurried thanks over the shrieks and hiss of the train's brakes. I had inadvertently pegged him in my mind as a Naperville yuppie, the usual guy who elbows in front of me to get on the train first or pointedly ignores the opportunity to offer his seat when I'm standing in heels after a long day: the kind of commuter that I sometimes think should be a little nicer or a little kinder, the person I think owes me something ...when in fact I owe him so many of the freedoms I take for granted every day of my life.

Thank you to all the men and women that have served and are currently serving this country. Thank you to all those who have lost loved ones in the military. Your sacrifices are worth more than I can ever say.

Communication

"And I wonder where these dreams go, when the world gets in your way.
What's the point in all this screaming no one's listening anyway."
- Goo Goo Dolls, Acoustic #3
~~~~

Communication has been frustrating me lately. A lot.

Both at work and in my NaNoWriMo project. At work it's saying the same thing multiple ways and using every ounce of energy to explain yourself, only to be entirely unheard or misunderstood. In my writing, it's my frustrations with not being able to get the right descriptions out and feeling like whatever poetry I create is just a repeat of something that's been said or done before. So I'm frustrated. Feeling like I'm speaking and shouting and still can't get my point, my thoughts, my ideas out.

And then I realize that's probably how God feels most of the time.

About to Break

I cannot take this anymore, I'm saying everything I've said before,
All these words they make no sense, I found bliss in ignorance,
Less I hear the less you'll say, but you'll find that out anyway!
Just like before…
Everything you say to me, takes me one step closer to the edge,
And I'm about to break!
I need a little room to breathe, 'cause I'm one step closer to the edge,
And I'm about to break!
I find the answers aren't so clear, wish I could find a way to disappear,
All these thoughts they make no sense, I found bliss in ignorance,
Nothing seems to go away, Over and over again,
Just like before…
~Linkin Park

I don't always listen to angry punk rock music, but I actually really like Linkin Park. This song got me thinking though. What do you do when you feel like you're about to break? I know we've all been there at one point or another. And if you're lucky enough to have a long enough fuse that you've never been in a spot where the powder keg of your mind was about to blow from the pressures around you, share your secrets because I'm sure the rest of us are quite curious.

For me, I just get stressed sometimes. I let little things worry me more than they should. I let expectations from others take a greater priority than God's image of me. And I get to thinking that I'm way more important than I am - that the world can't go on without me running at a frantic pace. This week has been one such stress-fest. Work would be infinitely easier if I could be in two places at once - or at least manage to grow an extra pair of arms. I started to think I could stand being the world's first octopus-human hybrid just to improve my ability to multitask. That's when I realized I needed some perspective.

I took the day off on Thursday. My awesome husband Tony was at home (he starts a new job on Monday) and I decided nothing at work was more important than spending some free time with him - and regaining my sanity with much needed rest. I cleared my schedule by working my butt off on Wednesday and spent Thursday relaxing. Seriously, I did next to nothing. I slept til nine, stayed in my pj's until noon, caught up on the previous two episodes of Top Chef, did some reading, and worked on a blanket I'm crocheting. It was awesome.

I realized I've only had three non-sick days off work this whole year so far and my longest "vacation" was July's bout with Poison Ivy. (I was on way to many drugs to actually enjoy that time off.) But overworking was not me getting more done. It was me burning myself out. Pushing myself to get more done until I was wound up so tight that the smallest things set me snapping unfairly at others. I needed rest. True rest.

I realized that this is why God created a Sabbath. It sounds corny because I know I've heard it preached in church multiple times, but I haven't seen that scary work-a-holic side of myself in a long time. It struck me though as truly awesome that He recognized, way back then, our need for rest. I don't treat my weekends as very Holy - more often they are days to catch up on dishes, laundry, groceries, and family affairs. It's something I need to change.

Before I break, I need to break - break from my routine of stress, overwork, and pressure. As I mentioned in my last post, I need to set aside times of reflection in my life.
I need times of peace.
I need breaks.

Cold Tangerines

My friend Ellen recommended a book to me called Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist. I didn't admit to her (until now) that I cringe a little at book recommendations. There's a certain amount of pressure that comes with reading a book that someone else really likes. Maybe the book spoke to them in a way that it just won't talk to you; perhaps something in a person's life resonates with the book and they only imagine that you share that sonorous quality. Whenever someone recommends a book I find myself reflecting on the quote that, "In literature, as in love, we are often astonished at what is chosen by others."

However, Ellen is someone that I trust and admire so her recommendation didn't dare go into the "perhaps, maybe before I die" pile of books on my mental shelf. Instead, Cold Tangerines showed up on my library hold queue and jumped quickly to the top. I started it this week, and (as of my train ride home today) I have just a few chapters remaining. It's the kind of book that speaks to a reader - I suppose I mean female readers - and I almost wish I could Xerox off different chapters and press them into the hands of family and friends and say "You need to read this!" or "This is SO what you are going through!"

And, of course, with a book that relevant to my loved ones, there were to be found several passages that seemed to be written directly at me. In a chapter called "Prayer and Yoga" she laments that both are decidedly good for her yet she doesn't stick to either as often as she should. (Sound like anyone you know??) I also really liked her thoughts on writing. As I contemplate another looming November with NaNoWriMo, I find myself pondering if I want to embrace - unleash - my identity as a writer once again. I've wavered and flip-flopped about taking on the chaotic novel-in-a-month challenge this year and then, this afternoon, I read this:

"Sometimes when I'm writing, if I try really hard, I can move more slowly, like a dancer or a mime, and taste things more vividly, and see not just the trees and the grass, but the individual leaves and blades. Things are richer and brighter than I thought, now that I have slowed down enough to see them."

~Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines p. 137

I don't think NaNoWriMo is quite the atmosphere for slowed down perception that Niequist is speaking of, but I understand her need for the reflective introspection that comes from times of writing. It's where I spent a lot of time in the days when I was a prolific journaler - heck, even when I was a more prolific blogger. I look with some shame on my sparse posting of this year. I see it not as sad because I missed sharing inane thoughts with friends and family but rather, sad that I was living my life without reflection.

There's a famous quote that says "We must live life forward and define it backward," but I think most of us fall into the trap of too much forward motion on that one. Not that it would be good to over-define life to the point of not spending one's time living it. When we can find the place between rushing out to live each day and poignantly reflecting on our journey as a whole, that's where a well paced life will be. Neither hurried nor bored, that will be a balanced life indeed.

Memorial Day

I got this cartoon in an email today and I wanted to share it with just one simple request. As we all go into a fun weekend (that looks to have beautiful weather), through the parties and festivities and celebration of a day off work... Remember why.

With my deepest thanks, warmest regards and utmost respect to all those who have served, who are serving and who will serve our country. Thank you for our freedoms, thank you for our lives. Amen.

Good Friday

These thousand hills roll ever on
The footprints of a Mighty God
They bring me to my knees in praise:
Amazing love, amazing grace.

Was on a hill my savior died -
A broken heart, a bleeding side.
Hill of the skull, Mount Calvary,
The blood He shed, He shed for me.

When heaven's hills at last I roam forever settle in my home,
I'll join the saints around Your throne - Your kingdom, Lord, rolls ever on.

These thousand hills roll ever on, ripples of a coming storm
The morning star precedes the dawn,
These thousand hills roll ever on.

~Third Day, "These Thousand Hills"

The Godliness, Contentment and Great Gain Paradigm

This week at church - or rather this month - we've been talking about generosity. This week's message was about financial freedom and it was a very powerful message as the burden of debt is something that I've struggled with all my life. Our pastor brought up a passage from 1 Timothy and amidst Paul's teachings about money he states,

"Godliness with contentment is great gain." 1 Timothy 6:6 NIV

It was pointed out that this verse acts as an equation of sorts in that

Godliness + Contentment = Great Gain

but in the culture of the world we often place things backwards and believe that

Godliness + Great Gain = Contentment

Instead of allowing God's presence and our own peace of mind to define wealthy, we believe that the presence of God along with the fulfillment of material desires will bring us peace of mind.

I agree that all of that is true, but in my mind I took the process one step further. I think in our consumer driven world, we often hold to the view that

Great Gain + Contentment = Godliness

Instead of clinging to God and choosing contentment, we hold up a false picture of who we idolize. It is those people who seem to have it all and - in our minds at least - are the epitome of happy, that we hold up and worship as our ideal. It is the celebrities with fancy houses; the Bill Gates types with huge salaries; the lottery winners with effortless incomes - in many ways they are what we want to be, they are our image of God.

Everyone says that money can't buy happiness and yet so few live as though they truly believe that. I know I don't, and I fall prey to the trap of wanting more than I need and believing that if I just had.... I could really be happy. It reminds me of the Jennifer Knapp song in which she laments,

"And though I'm rich, I claim that I'm poor.
Crying over earthly things I know I can't afford,
But He who died is greater than these.
I should be thankful and praying on my knees."
~Jennifer Knapp, "All Consuming Fire"

So there's my goal for now. Giving up on senseless wants and instead focusing on what I really need in my life - God's presence and opportunities to share His love with the world.

Ever Mindful

Growing up Catholic, there was a grace that my family and I prayed before every meal. There are two versions but one says,

Bless, oh Lord, this food to our use,
And thus to Thy service;
Make us ever mindful
Of the needs of others,
In Jesus' name, Amen.

When you're little and taught to memorize things like this, the words don't always have much meaning. It becomes a quick poem, a rhyme that we would try to utter as quickly as possible, to get it done, to check it off the list. But something about this prayer has stuck with me over the years and for the past week I've been meditating on it a bit. The first part is what I think of as the traditional "grace" line - a blessing of the meal - but even those simple words contain a deeper meaning. We are asking God to bless our food so that in nourishing ourselves, we can be of service to God. The food is for our use, but ultimately it is a line of stewardship to say that all that is in us, around us, part of us is God's and can be used to serve God. The second line is what I find the coolest part of the prayer: "Make us ever mindful of the needs of others". I think those words are the ones I've been searching for lately. In fact, I'm praying it "Make ME ever mindful, Lord, of the needs of others." Ever mindful. To go through every day mindful - having my eyes open - to what others need, I think that's a powerful ask. A powerful ask to a powerful God.

The Glad Bags

Consider this a free-for-all on my thoughts at present since it's been way to long since I've touched this blog. My last entry was one of the songs we sang at my great-aunt's funeral last month. (The long story that I won't tell here is that part of my absence from blogging was back to back weeks of out of state funerals in the month of August.) I don't want to dwell on the song because it really makes me cry, but I do want to say a few words in remembrance of my Aunt Pat.

Many of you know that my dad's mom has Alzheimer's disease. It's really hard to face the fact that my parents, siblings and I are virtual strangers to my grandma, but I'd always been blessed to have my dad's aunt as a close relative - in distance and relationship. (She's actually the only relative on my dad's side of the family that made it to my wedding.) In July we got word that she had been diagnosed with an aggressive and metastatic form of lung cancer that quickly spread to her brain. She was placed in hospice care when she didn't respond to treatment and though the doctor's said "weeks to live" I don't know that any of us knew just how literal the "weeks" part was. Just over a month from the initial news, Aunt Pat passed away.

I won't deny the sadness that comes with losing a dear one in such a short time - even with the chance to mentally prepare for her passing, it was still a shock to hear that she died - but I think Aunt Pat, given the option, would prefer not to have had her illness anymore drawn out. This was a woman who lived the essence of "carpe diem". As a former Detroit police inspector her life was marked by fast cars and adventurous vacations and I can only guess that she would have wanted the end of her life to be equally expedited.

At the funeral I had the pleasure of meeting some of her friends that she often travelled with. Oddly enough I heard several of them introduce themselves saying, "I'm one of the Glad Bags". Thinking only of Ziploc, I inquired about the name and it was explained to me that in WWII there was a popular comic strip about an unfortunate private called "Sad Sack" and many groups of men returning from the war called themselves The Sad Sacks. Taking a twist on this and wanting a positive spin, the group of ladies that included my great aunt titled themselves The Glad Bags. The name and their friendship has lasted ever since.

During the funeral service, the priest remarked on their group and noted that it is a rare and beautiful thing to make the choice for joy - to choose to be a Glad Bag in a world populated by Sad Sacks. I think that's a lesson that Aunt Pat taught with every day that she lived and even in death she speaks it still. I feel like I've been saying a lot of goodbyes with this blog lately, so in the spirit of The Glad Bags I won't say Goodbye Aunt Pat.

Instead I'll go with Sayonara - translation: Til we meet again.

A Hymn Remembered

You shall cross the barren desert but you shall not die of thirst

You shall wander far in safety though you do not know the way.
You shall speak your words in foreign lands and all will understand,
You shall see the face of God and live.

Be not afraid
I go before you always
Come follow Me,
And I will give you rest.

If you pass through raging waters in the sea, you shall not drown
If you walk amidst the burning flames, you shall not be harmed.
If you stand before the pow'r of hell and death is at your side
Know that I am with you, through it all.

Be not afraid
I go before you always
Come follow Me
And I will give you rest.

Blessed are the poor for the Kingdom shall be theirs
Blest are you that weep and mourn for one day you shall laugh.
And if wicked men insult and hate you all because of Me
Blessed, blessed are you!

Be not afraid
I go before you always
Come follow Me
and I will give you rest.

~Robert J. Dufford, Based on Isaiah 43:2-3; Luke 6:20

Morneau Wins, But Hamilton Shines

Justin Morneau was crowned the 2008 Home Run Derby Champion with a total of 22 homers. He hit 5 in the third round - the round that matters. I have to at least tip my hat to any member of the Minnesota Twins that can win my favorite slugging competition (as my earliest childhood baseball memories were cheering for the World Champs in the late 80s), however, nobody is talking about Justin Morneau.


A new hero emerged at the HRD with a phenomenal and record-breaking 28 home runs in the first round alone. That's right, he hit more HR's in round 1 than winner Morneau hit in all three rounds combined, and though 3 dingers in the third round declared that Josh Hamilton of the Texas Rangers walked away with second place, he was first in everyone's hearts. His power hitting was not the only thing that garnered him the respect of his peers, the admiration of the crowds and the talk of the town. Josh Hamilton had a much greater weapon in his arsenal than his bat: his story.


Certainly fans knew that Hamilton was not going to be the typical HRD slugger when his pitcher was introduced. We're used to BP coaches throwing for these things, or in the case of last year's outing by Matt Holliday, a friend or relative. Hamilton surprised many when his pitcher took the field - 71 year old Clay Council, Hamilton's high school coach. Not only was Council thrilled to be invited to the festivities and to pitch to Josh at Yankee Stadium, but the man threw 54 pitches in the first round - 28 of which were knocked out of the park! I was ensnared by Hamilton's excitement and charm when after his first slam the crowd went wild and he was heard to remark, "That was awesome, dude!"


Yet even this is not what earns Hamilton the all-too-rare status of role model. His story encompasses a much greater battle and includes a testimony that he openly shares about how he reached where he is today by hitting rock bottom and finding his way back to the top through a relationship with Jesus Christ. I can't even come near to describing his amazing life so I'll send you out to read it in his own words: "I'm proof that hope is never lost."
I loved how Hamilton unabashedly attributed his performance and his very life to the work of God and Jesus. It seems so rare and awkward when God can be worshiped and proclaimed outside of church but Josh Hamilton was able to share his testimony to a packed house at Yankee Stadium and an audience of millions. In that respect, there is nothing second-place about his finish and he will easily be remembered as the hero of the night. Thanks for the show, Josh, but even more, thanks for the story!

Chasing Rainbows

Tony and I spent the last weekend in June on a mini-vacation to Galena, IL and Dubuque, IA. We visited a National Historic Park about an hour north of Dubuque called Effigy Mounds. Very cool place, by the way. We did some hiking but fortunately - yes, fortunately - we got caught in a massive rainstorm half way through a three mile hike. We were drenched from head to toe but on the drive back to Dubuque a look out the window revealed a beautiful rainbow arching over the Mississippi River. As we drove onward, I couldn't help snapping pictures because each view was more spectacular. The last is by far my favorite! In some of them you can even see the double rainbow too. Granted the pictures don't quite do it justice - I had goosebumps from the sheer beauty of it (or maybe they were from the drenching rainstorm....) - but keep in mind these are all taken through the car windows with no editing or retouching done.





My mom has always said that anytime she's going through a job transition or other change in her life that God has sent her a rainbow as a sign of His goodness and faithfulness. Tony and I have said that with our current circumstances we're on an adventure, not knowing where the road will lead. The last picture is my favorite because it really looks like we're driving directly into the rainbow. I think it's a good analogy that on a wet road, gray and slicked with puddles, we can see for sure that in the distance is God's promise and we are headed straight towards His goodness, His blessings, His rainbows. Sometimes, too, you just have to be sure to enjoy the chase.

Neighbors

Our neighbor Howard passed away last night. When I say neighbor, I don't mean the people that you give a quick hi to when you're out walking the dog and otherwise know nothing about. We live in a condo, so aside from not being allowed a dog, it redefines neighbor as literally the person just across the hall from you. Someone that little by little you invite into your life, get to know, and just assume will always be there. Someone who is somehow, part of what you know as "home". That was Howard.

Everyone in our condo complex knew Howard. He turned 90 last December but his jovial nature and easy conversation reflected a much younger spirit. Summers in particular have always been marked by after-work patio conversations about current events, baseball, and sometimes even the nostalgic reflections of the good ol' days - Howard was a Navy man during WWII and pride always shone brightly in his eyes when he talked about his days on an Aircraft Carrier ("You wouldn't believe the size of that thing!"). And he used to grow tomatoes too. Even better than the farmer's market were Howard's patio grown tomatoes that he was always willing to share.

You get so used to someone that it's hard to stop and think that they're no longer in this world.

His wife is doing well and has the support of several children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren around her. She's assured us that Howard is in a better place now, and there is joy in knowing that, but he will be dearly missed.
Rest in peace, and thanks for being a part of our lives.

Learning

I think I've been a little too vague and obscure lately. Some of you have gotten the whole schpiel including some that probably didn't care to hear near as many details as they got. To explain, I think it's best just to say that God's had a lot of stuff to teach me lately and here's the lessons in a brief rundown:

1 - Pray. Anytime, anywhere. It does make a difference. It's good for you, good for others, and God really does like hearing from you. Doesn't have to be fancy. Even a string of expletives followed by "I really really need you right now, God" or "why, why, why" choked out through tears will count.

2 - Call on others to call on God with you. Whether it's praying in a group or just asking others to join in your petition, there really is strength in numbers. Thanks to those of you who are my numbers and my strength.

3 - Answers are nice but not necessary. Clarity is a beautiful thing but in terms of prayers being answered, life rarely solves itself as neatly and easily as we'd like. And then there's that oh so common issue of just when one thing seems to be settling down another heap of doo-doo hits the proverbial fan...

These might not seem like major things to learn. Probably some part of my brain learned them all a long time ago too. But I'm a woman of action. I like to solve my own problems and be a fixer whenever I can. It's a pretty big step for me to try to trust and believe that sometimes all God wants me to "do" is call on Him and seek His help, His love, His guidance and His comfort.

Listening

"All the things I want to say
All at once they wash away
As You walk by, out of mind
My thoughts fly away

All the things I long to hear
Suddenly they reappear
You say in that hour Your holy Power
Will wipe away my fears

I can hear You cry out loud
When You Answer Me
Once again I am revived
When You answer me You answer me with love

To know You are I Am
Confidence of lion lying with the lamb
In greener fields, with all my zeal,
Is hard to comprehend

I can hear You cry out loud
When You Answer Me
Once again I am revived
When You answer me You answer me with love
With love so understanding
I can hardly catch my breath
Seeing this I wonder how You have any love left
Left me not alone
When I did not believe
Through the darkness, through the darkness You answer me

I can hear You cry out loud
When You Answer Me
Once again I am revived
When You answer me You answer me with love"

-Jennifer Knapp

Waiting

"I'm finding myself at a loss for words
And the funny thing is it's okay
The last thing I need is to be heard
But to hear what You would say

Word of God speak
Would You pour down like rain,
Washing my eyes to see
Your majesty,
To be still and know
That You're in this place
Please let me stay and rest
In Your holiness.

Word of God speak."
-Mercy Me

Please.

Powerless

"Cause this life is too short to live it just for you,
But when you feel so powerless, what are you gonna do?"
- Nelly Furtado

I think the only answer I can come up with right now is pray.
A lot.

St. Baldrick's (long story)

By order of the post title, this is going to be my full entry of the St. Baldrick's Event. For those that want the abbreviated version, it's in my last post (here). You've probably already heard by now that The BeeGeeS had a goal of raising $2000. At the start of the event, Dad and Tony were at about $2500 - a phenomenal total! - but the tally would rise even higher before the day was done. We invited all our family and friends to come witness the event and little did we know that it would turn into two new members for the team: Andrew and Dan! (We decided that we then had to capitalize the "S" in BeeGeeS to include all the represented last names.) These guys set day long goals of $150 and $250 to lose their locks and both pulled in their amounts in a few short hours at the event. Along with the extra $75 that Tony raised to shave his beard as well, and a few more donations online from coworkers, family and friends - Team BeeGeeS pulled in over $3000 for pediatric cancer research!! I haven't heard the official totals for how much the event raised - last announced was $22,000 - but it was wonderful to see so many people giving so generously to a cause that I have long been passionate about.

I know I've been saying this a lot, but I am overflowing with gratitude to all of our donors! Please see our "Donation Honor List" to recognize these individuals and families. And also, a huge thank you to those that have donated by check or cash (their names are not listed yet) - but especially to Tony's coworkers as well as our church family at CCC (DownTown campus - we love you!!!).

And now for some more fun pictures!

Those barbers have their work cut out for them....

But are they responsible for lost hair?

I really think the 80's rap star look could make a comeback this year!
A little mousse and he could be a part of a Kid 'N Play revival!

"You don't understand... I'm like Uncle Jesse from Full House - I LOVE my hair!"

Past the point of no return.... unless you want to be Dr. Phil...


A great look for a great cause!


Because razors aren't scary when you get a lollipop to go with them!

"Our husbands are bald AND we get funny glasses to wear!"

Congratulations BeeGeeS! You guys look great!

The Pictures (short story)

Okay a longer and more detailed post will be coming soon, but for now, here's the St. Baldrick's Report:

BEFORE:


DURING:


AFTER:


With further thanks to all of our sponsors! And yes, Team BeeGeeS gained two more members at the event, but all that will be in my next post (long story). Love, Blessings, and Thanks to all!!!