Excerpt from Jon at Stuff Christians Like via my real friend Monica.

One Easter I got into a bit of a yelling match with a guy in a visor at an Easter egg hunt. The whole thing was exactly how Jesus imagined us honoring that day.


We were at my in-laws country club, which always makes me feel a little weird. We’re certainly rich in a global way, but I kind of think that they can all tell that I’m just a visitor. I feel like the real members can smell middle class on me. (Which kind of smells like sun ripened raspberry and feet by the way.)

So after I pointed to where a golden egg was hidden to my 5 year old daughter, he yelled at me for cheating. I told him that his white visor made him look like a financial planner who was wearing his “casual uniform.” Whole thing got very out of hand. (I didn’t say that, but I thought it later when we were driving home, which is where most of my comebacks occur.)

The entire incident was gross. My daughter, who lost a golden egg last year has actually asked not to participate in the Easter egg hunt this year. That’s how messed up and tangled we’ve made this season of our lives.

But the more I think about it, the more I realize that one of the things Easter is all about is actually pretty simple. I’ve written about it before and I hope to write about it again.

I’m talking about the “comma of grace.”

I found it in Luke 22. In that chapter, Jesus is being led away. He is headed to the cross. A million prophecies are coming true and chaos is breaking out a little amongst disciples that up to this point have sworn to serve until death. In the midst of that, he pulls Simon aside because he knows that Simon will soon betray him.

He says to Simon in Luke 22:31-32:

“Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail.”

And then, he drops the 9 words that I can’t write about enough. The 9 words that I often turn to when I’ve failed and messed up again and feel hopelessly undeserving of hope.

Jesus tells Simon:

“And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.”

Do you see what Jesus is saying in that first half of the sentence, And when you have turned back? He’s saying:

You are going to fail.

You are going to fall.

You are going to lose it.

You are going to make commitments and break them.

You are not going to always be the man you family needs.

You are going to sin.

But, but, but, you will turn back.

You will come back. You will know redemption. You will know return. You will know a God that not only allows the “comeback” but actually celebrates it.

When I read the phrase “And when you have turned back,” I read a loud, wild picture of what grace really looks like.

And then, if you go too fast, you’ll miss the comma. You’ll miss the gap that sits quietly between the next thought. You’ll miss it because like me, you might misread the second half of that sentence.

Here’s what it says:

“And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.”

But here’s how we write it sometimes:

“And when you have turned back, repent for a long time and stay a long way from me until you are clean enough to return to my presence.”

“And when you have turned back, please stay far away from any ministry opportunities. You are too broken to help other people. How can you minister to others when your own life is so messed up?

“And when you have turned back, here are the 57 things you need to do in order to earn back my good favor.”

But Christ doesn’t do that! He drops a comma like a grenade.

He gives us the gift of the comma and then asks us to strengthen our brothers. Not beat ourselves with emotional whips. Or lay in a hole of shame. Or stay to the shadows of church afraid to be seen.

He wants you. In his arms. By his side. Surrendered and free in his presence.

Not because you deserve it or have earned it or are perfect.

Because of Easter.

That’s it.

We all get the comma of grace.

INSPI(RED)

I fought for health care reform because I know who my neighbor is.

 Just then a religion scholar stood up with a question to test Jesus. "Teacher, what do I need to do to get eternal life?"

 He answered, "What's written in God's Law? How do you interpret it?"

 He said, "That you love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and muscle and intelligence—and that you love your neighbor as well as you do yourself."

 "Good answer!" said Jesus. "Do it and you'll live."

 Looking for a loophole, he asked, "And just how would you define 'neighbor'?"

 Jesus answered by telling a story. "There was once a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. On the way he was attacked by robbers. They took his clothes, beat him up, and went off leaving him half-dead. Luckily, a priest was on his way down the same road, but when he saw him he angled across to the other side. Then a Levite religious man showed up; he also avoided the injured man.

 "A Samaritan traveling the road came on him. When he saw the man's condition, his heart went out to him. He gave him first aid, disinfecting and bandaging his wounds. Then he lifted him onto his donkey, led him to an inn, and made him comfortable. In the morning he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, 'Take good care of him. If it costs any more, put it on my bill—I'll pay you on my way back.'

 "What do you think? Which of the three became a neighbor to the man attacked by robbers?"

 "The one who treated him kindly," the religion scholar responded.

   Jesus said, "Go and do the same." (Luke 10:25-37, The Message)

How He Loves Us

He is jealous for me
Loves like a hurricane
I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy
When all of a sudden I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by Glory
And I realize just how beautiful you are and how great your affections are for me

Oh how he loves us so

We are his portion and he is our prize
Drawn to redemption by the grace in his eyes
If grace is an ocean we’re all sinking
So, heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest
I don’t have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way

He loves us
Oh how he loves us so

Rootin Tootin!

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Recession-proofing

Recently, the Corbett Clan has had to tighten up the reigns in our monthly budget. Back to aggressive couponing and necessary expenses, mostly.

In the spirit of cutting back, I have also restructured my pricing with Mollie Corbett Photography. No one should have to forego quality professional photography just because, as my brother would say, "Times is tight."

I believe in bending wherever possible. If you need quality, affordable professional photography for your family, child, high school senior, newborn, etc.--well, the shorter answer is...I'm CHEAP, BABY!

Take a look at the NEW PRICING page on my website. Same commitment to excellence in quality and customer service, just more affordable during "tight times."

Carpe diem, people.

Clever Boy

Sweet Boy

As I parent of a two year old, I do a fair amount of thinking about gender differences and the roles genetics and environment play in our thoughts about what it means to be male or female. I also wonder about the future Jackson, what kind of man he will be and whether I can have any lasting influence on how he treats himself and others.

We live in the deep South and I was lost in list and thought that day on the cereal aisle when I heard the voice of a man pleasantly addressing Jackson and conversing quite animatedly with him. Jackson had a very brief period of stranger anxiety before he turned two but hasn’t met a stranger since then. His general demeanor (with everyone but me, apparently, on occasion) is enthusiastic contentedness. He is just one of those happy little boys.

This fact was not lost on our cereal aisle friend, who remarked repeatedly on what a “sweet boy” Jackson is.

Then a shift. And then the disclaimers.

Well, I only had little girls, you see, and he is sweeter than any little girl I have ever known. Well, I mean, he is the sweetest child, boy or girl. I’m sure he’s a little rough and tumble guy. Well, you know what I mean. I bet his daddy plays good with him…

Painful.

Maybe it was a generational thing. Here’s a man of a certain age, probably with daughters my age, struggling with a well-meaning compliment that somehow turned into an accusation.

Weird.

I felt sorry for him. He wasn’t trying to make a statement on the nature and origin of gender differences. He was simply enjoying interaction with a little boy thoroughly amused by his face and the sound of his voice. They were delighting in each other and the communication taking place between them. It was perfect and harmless and fun.

I wish that I could have said something to make the guy feel better. All the explaining and clarifying just wasn’t necessary. Jackson IS a sweet boy. There is a sweetness about him that draws people close to us when we are out in town. Why can’t boys be sweet without there being some kind of stigma attached to it?

Are we terrified that attributing any quality to a male child that is deemed effeminate in our culture will “turn him gay”?

With no disrespect intended whatsoever toward our friend in aisle five, I reject this notion and I also reject the prejudice and ignorance that feed it.

Mollie Corbett Photography

Mollie Corbett Photography launched the new website this past Friday night. Take a look. More to come but this should get it going for now.

Me 'n my Cuz Katelyn

My 30-hmph Birthday

Last week, Charlie was due in Ft. Worth for a training day with his squadron. The squadron commander, Lt. Col. Sean McKenna, is a family man himself, and he makes spouses and kids feel especially welcome when the squadron gets together. I should also note that it was Lt. Col. McKenna who got me the Texas Rangers gig on the Fourth of July. He's no slouch when it comes to community and charity, either. Check out these shots from a charity event he did earlier this year.


But I digress...

This was the third year in a row in which the Air Force preempted my birthday, so I was glad at least to be able to go with Charlie to training, with our son, and stay in one of my favorite places, the Navy Lodge (clean, comfy, cheap--my three favorite c-words), visit Half-Price Books, get some fresh produce at the Farmer's Market (last month, those tomatoes lasted nearly a month!), and maybe stop in at the Ft. Worth Zoo, where we are members.

We only missed the zoo, which was okay because it's hot as hell down here and I will enjoy the zoo a whole lot more when the thermometer takes a dip, capiche?

I got three books to read, substance-less and gossipy, perfect. I got bags full of okra, tomatoes, and peaches. I've had some of all three already--delicious! And, thanks to my good friend Chris Holden who turned me on to such, we scored a big ol' rain barrel with a spigot for a hose to water our flower beds and the garden I still intend to put in. Oh, and you know those party dips that women bring to bridal luncheons and baby showers--the ones that have roasted red pepper or spinach in them? Well, there was a lady there selling those little seasoning packets at her booth, so I bought five bags of those, too. The spinach one already has the spinach in it...NO SQUEEZING/DRAINING REQUIRED!!! Sorry for the caps but this is huge for those of us who take food to these types of events. You know who you are. I've got her number if you need some. Let me know, and I'll get it to you. She says she'll happily mail some to you.

So on the day of my birthday, I mentioned to Charlie an idea I was mulling. He seized on it like crazy, and within 4 hours the deed was done. I'm keeping it to myself for a few weeks, because it's a big deal for me, and I will be visiting family soon, for Labor Day: I'd like them to know first.

Hang in there.

Suffice it to say that I have no regrets, and I think a move like this is important for those of us celebrating our 30-, 40-, 50-(and so on)hmph birthdays. Change and newness can bring freshness and improved perspective. It forces one to look at things differently. It reveals old habits that show up awkwardly, no longer necessary, never necessary at all, more than likely.

I told someone the other day that I actually like birthdays better now than I did in my twenties. Then, I was reliant on someone else to make me feel special, alive. If there was no someone there, special occasions were diminished with the pangs of loneliness. When there was a someone there, special occasions were diminished with the awareness that loneliness still lingered, beating heavily against the locked door of denial. Lonesome with can be so much worse than lonesome without.

And so I embrace the birthdays of my thirties, if not by confessed number, in the knowledge that I am better equipped now to enjoy them. I ask myself, what would you like to do for your birthday, Mollie? And I always answer honestly. This year's activity has been transformational. Right on time.

Stay tuned for a photojournal.

Just as soon as I see my sister and my momma.

Breakfast

After five years with a sturdy $30 rounder from someone's driveway, Mollie is enjoying her farm table from Ikea. And so is Jackson. Charlie assembled it for me while I was CVSing on Sunday. He's been doing lots of things for me lately. Not sure what's gotten into that boy but...me likey!

Anonymous

Many years ago, when I was a music leader at a church up north, I received an anonymous note that criticized me for an outfit I had worn on stage during a church service. I had had the audacity to wear sleeveless that day.

I don't lead music in church anymore.

I'd like to offer a hearty "Up yours" to that gutless wonder, whoever he or she may be. I only regret not having offered it sooner.

On the subject of anonymity, I offer the following piece of advice. If you have something kind, uplifting, thoughtful, or complimentary to say, by all means remain anonymous.

If, however, your remarks are critical, disingenuous, unkind, mean-spirited, loathesome, and hurtful, I suggest the following three options:

1. keep them to yourself
2. offer them to the mirror
3. at least have the balls to sign your name to them

Your anonymous and apalling comment has been rejected. My name is Mollie. And I hope my son is never criticized by someone like you.

Today

Working on new website launch, cleaning house, playing with Jackson, and finalizing dance portraits for tomorrow's studio delivery.

Austin Music Hall's apology

It was the best Counting Crows show I've seen since 1995.

I left early.

Here's why:

August 3, 2009

Austin Music Hall
208 Nueces Street
Austin TX 78701


Dear Ma'am/Sir:


My husband and I were guests at Austin Music Hall tonight for Counting Crows and Augustana. We are residents of Shreveport, a military family just trying to get a break and enjoy a night out with my favorite band 6 hours from our home.

Because we are responsible and self-sufficient, we paid our money, bought our tickets, looked up the venue online, mapped it out, and perused the general information about it to ensure we were aware of and abided by house rules.

As a result, we elected NOT to bring my Nikon. This was a matter of respect for the rules. We were glad to comply. It’s what reasonable people do.

Unfortunately, reasonable people are often lonely for the like-minded.

During the Counting Crows concert, we had two great spots on the floor just three people deep from center stage. Those around us were respectful, there to see the band, and very cordial with one another during the wait for start time, as well as during the first half of the show.

Then came intermission.

Three women had made their way to our side and shoved their way into no available space. After being jostled and bumped for the entire 10 minute intermission by the one closest to me, I turned to face her and asked her, with great restraint, to please stop pushing me. She, along with her two friends, took my request as fighting words, and proceeded to berate me for the next 40 minutes of the concert. I was not the only guest falling prey to their bullying. One lady immediately in front of them leaned over to me and empathized, saying the same girl was pushing her as well and maybe we should call security over.

The security representative closest to us at the edge of the stage wore a badge bearing the name Francis. He was engrossed in a flirtation with a woman immediately in front of him on the front row, but the other guest and I were finally able to get his attention and alert him to the fact that this rude person was killing the concert experience for the rest of us. Mr. Francis was patronizing and reticent, and returned to his conversation with the attractive lady on the front row.

Perhaps you can imagine how this must have further fueled the rudeness of the offensive guest in our midst? This woman was so close to my face that the alcohol emanating from her breath burned my eyes. She moved even closer to me and flipped her hair against my chest for the next half hour, all the while bumping into me repeatedly, in time to the music.

When she started to speak disrespectfully about me to my husband, I addressed her directly to turn around, stop talking to my husband, and enjoy the concert like she said she was there to do.

This is when Mr. Francis decided to intervene. He left his conversation with the attractive lady on the front row and asked me if he needed to throw me out of the concert.

I told him he didn’t have to. My husband and I left right then, before the concert of my favorite band whose tours I have not missed since 1994 had come to an end.

We left because Austin Music Hall expected me to behave a certain way and abide by certain rules but did not care to enforce its own policy with a drunk and unruly patron.

We left because a security representative who was too busy fraternizing with a guest to his liking failed to exercise the authority of his position to execute the published policy of the venue he serves.

We left because we are decent, hard-working Americans who don’t deserve to be treated this way by someone who was paid to protect us from unruly, drunk, and disrespectful guests who don’t know how to behave in public.

Then I got back to the hotel and started looking around online. Apparently, Austin Music Hall has a sordid reputation for just this sort of incident. While it helps to know that I am not the only one to have been treated this way at AMH, I will head back home to Shreveport tomorrow with bad memories of this concert that I had been looking forward to for nearly four months now. I regret that I laid down 90 hard-earned dollars and was robbed of my money’s worth. I regret that when I and another guest asked your security detail for help, we were dismissed and ignored.

Is this the kind of behavior you encourage from your security representatives? From your patrons?

I am deeply disappointed in my experience at Austin Music Hall. This night was ruined for me by drunken rudeness left unaddressed by inept security staff and further exacerbated by Mr. Francis’ threat to eject me from the concert when I tried to defend myself because he refused.

The concert is over, the night is lost, and the moment can’t be undone. Something special and much-anticipated has been totally ruined for me. Hopefully, no one else will have to undergo this kind of treatment at your facility. It certainly will not happen to me again.


Respectfully,
Mollie Walton Corbett
6019 Rosemead Circle
Bossier City, LA 71111
757-241-0859
318-734-5182

God bless the people who run Austin Music Hall.

Here's why:

Mrs. Corbett,

I am sorry to hear that you had a disappointing experience at our venue last night and I am disheartened to hear that your situation was handled in such a manner. We appreciate patrons such as yourself who come to the shows and abide by the rules, making it an enjoyable experience for all involved. Unfortunately, as you stated, reasonable people are often lonely for the like minded. It is unfortunate that you had to be involved with one of the few patrons who chose to be disrespectful. I would like to apologize for the way the situation was handled by the security guard. We use an independent security company who is NOT a part of the Direct Events organization, therefore we have no part in the hiring or training of said security guards. I will forward your email to their management so that they can take the proper steps to ensure a situation like this does not happen again.

I realize that you do not live in the Austin area, but I would like to offer you a gift certificate, which is redeemable for 2 tickets to any show at either of our venues (Austin Music Hall or La Zona Rosa) so that we may show you that your situation was an unusual one and certainly not telling of how we do business. It is unfortunate that you walked away from our building with a bad impression, and we would certainly like to turn that around.

Thank you for taking the time to let us know about your situation.

Respectfully,
Alicia Ross
Business Manager - Direct Events

So, the good news is we can see anyone we want in Austin whenever we want. The bad news is, we won't get back what was lost. I missed everything after Holiday in Spain.

I missed A Murder of One.

Thinking about a plane ride...

Race in America

Race in America

Heroes

All Played Out from a Picnic at the Park

A little something for the folks at home

If you have only one smile in you, give it to the people you love. Don’t be surly at home, then go out in the street and start grinning "Good Morning" at total strangers.

Maya Angelou