That’s NOT My MTV….

Posted on August 31, 2015 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

Everything popular is wrong. Oscar Wilde

I’ll admit that I don’t watch a lot of MTV these days, but I so clearly remember when the network first debuted in the 80s. Practically THE perfect channel (in my adolescent assessment,) as it was brilliantly simple–music videos with young, hip, fun personalities known as video jockeys (VJs.) The ability to tune in to my favorite songs, 24/7, served as the backdrop to my tween and teen years and I’m sure that was the story for countless others from my generation. And while reminiscing about Paula Abdul videos, Yo! MTV Raps, Pauly Shore and MTV News typically bring a smile to my face, it’s at this time EVERY year that my thoughts about MTV merely result in a long, sad sigh as the network offers up the its annual MTV Music Awards show.

Right now the web is blowing up with critiques and reaction to Sunday night’s show. The annual offering was pretty hard to miss given that it runs live on several Viacom channels aside from MTV. And while you couldn’t avoid it, there were plenty of reasons one might try to. Obviously, the show is edgy. It was edgy back in the day, but somehow the definition of edgy has been changed from simply “pushing the limits of good taste” to “practically naked” and “high on drugs.” Hence the long, sad, sigh.

I am a big music fan (I have kids so I think it’s important to know WHO and WHAT they’re listening to) and believe it or not, I was actually very familiar with most of the performers and nominees. I am genuinely impressed by the talent and creativity that goes into making a hit song, I just wish it could be different. The pop psychologist in me wonders if these music celebrities would be any less successful or culturally relevant if they decided to keep their clothes on and skip the pre-awards show doobie? I have a feeling those with true musical talent would still find fame, but those whose celebrity relies upon sensationalism might not. I guess that’s what they call “famous, for being famous.” My biggest disappointment in all this is that I’ve seen research that suggests provocative clothing (or lack there of,) foul language and drug references actually make today’s teens that much more inclined to like a song or artist. Apparently, marketing and public relations gurus are also hip to this trend as many advise their celebrity clients to continue to push the boundaries. Listen, I was young once…we all want to push a little, test the waters, and see what else it out there as part of declaring our independence from our parents, peers, etc. That’s pretty typical, but somewhere along the way we’ve also opened the door AND placed a welcome mat out to some pretty disappointing, potentially dangerous and scary behavior. Long, sad sigh.

The optimist in me keeps looking for a little glimmer of hope…a sampling of the fun, nostalgic MTV of days gone by, but that’s a pretty tall order for a network that has used sensationalism as its stepping stone toward continued relevance. Several writers have outlined their top ten moments from this year’s show and while I could recall each of these episodes…none of them stood out as great or outstanding. Most of them weren’t even about the music. Again…long, sad sigh. Just another f-bomb laden, almost nude, drug-promoting, angry ranting awards show. For me, the best part of the show was not what was taking place on the television, but rather my family’s reaction to the whole thing. I wish I had kept a tally for every time my husband asked “why we were watching this show, when we could change the channel, and if the show was over yet?” My tween daughter opted to watch YouTube tutorials in her room, and my teenage son didn’t even know the show was on (boy, I dodged a bullet there!)

No doubt the coverage of this event will continue. Miley Cyrus will be critiqued, the feud between her and Nicki Minaj will further develop, a reporter will be assigned to find out why Justin Beiber was in tears, and a campaign team is likely assembling now for Kanye’s presidential run. It’s all just a little too much. As I type this, plans are probably in the works for next year’s award show, but as much as I ascribe to the “devil you know” mantra…MTV just might have to count me out. I think I’m done.

When you get something like MTV, it’s like regular television. You get it, and at first it’s novel and brand new and then you watch every channel, every show. And then you become a little more selective and more selective, until ultimately… you wind up with a radio. David Lee Roth

When News Becomes the Tragedy

Posted on August 27, 2015 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

In a former life I worked as a TV news reporter. It was my dream job! I say that because when I was an eight year old little girl, I decided that I wanted to be a journalist. It’s a pretty big word for a second-grader, but…I liked big words! My focus was so intense that while many of my peers played “house” and Barbies, I often cajoled family and friends into playing “TV News Station” in my basement. It was my favorite game 🙂

While most kids outgrow or revamp their ideal job, mine never really wavered. One of my most treasured memories growing up was getting to visit a “real” TV news station. In the small, southwestern Kansas town where I lived we were lucky enough to have a news bureau. A small building way out in the country with a giant antenna, a few offices and an actual news studio. I got to see how the news was produced, watch the anchor/reporter get ready for live reports, check out the teleprompter and they even let me sit at the news desk. I loved every minute! Those outings only furthered my desire to make it in the news business.

My personal “prophecy” from my senior year in high school. Each student was asked to make a life prediction. Class of 1993

A self-avowed news junkie, I often surprised teachers with my knowledge of current events. Even at a young age, I gobbled up newspapers and watched the national nightly news (sidebar, Tom Brokaw was my secret crush!) Throughout high school I wrote for the newspaper and took courses in broadcasting. After graduation, declaring a major was a no-brainer. I can’t begin to tell you how much I enjoyed pursuing this passion in college. The university I attended offered so many wonderful hands-on opportunities in broadcasting. I learned about both the radio and television side of the news from wonderful professors who I adore to this day. I never really considered it work, it was all just incredibly challenging, invigorating and oh so much FUN! So when I landed my first internship and later my first job in the industry, I felt like I had won the lottery. Listen up, kids…dreams do come true!

So why am I writing about this now? I left the business many years ago and I haven’t set foot in a newsroom in over a decade, but when I heard about the tragedy in Virginia yesterday it really hit me–hard…and in a way that I wasn’t expecting. While making bag lunches for my kiddos to take to school, I stood there in disbelief, my heart immediately aching for the families and friends of those involved. As more information was shared throughout the day, my disbelief continued. Look, I told you that I’m a devout news junkie (almost to a fault) and we know that for the most part the news is TRAGIC…daily and tragic. So why was I so stunned?

It wasn’t until later that evening when my daughter and I went to pick up my son from church youth group that my personal grief came into focus. She asked me, “Mom, when you worked in news was it scary? Did you ever think someone would kill you?” I told her that I loved working as a reporter, that it was exciting and rewarding. There were so many parts of the business that I truly loved…especially the people I worked with. I shared with her that while I had covered stories in some questionable and unfamiliar places that at no point was I ever fearful. No sooner had I uttered those words did I realize that this was the source of my heavy heart. Reporter Alison Parker and cameraman Adam Ward were doing their jobs that morning. A live shot for a story about tourism. Look, it doesn’t get anymore benign than that in the news industry. They were young, energetic, had their whole lives ahead of them and they never, EVER saw it coming. And while I can’t relate with most tragedies that make the news, I could relate to this one. I had been there before…making small talk before the shoot, holding a microphone, adjusting my outfit one more time before the cameraman gave his cue.

This photo has been floating around the web. To me, it’s a great representation of the atmosphere in a typical newsroom.

I don’t want to believe that this is the world we live in, but I’m not naïve. We will probably hear a lot more about this story because (in case you didn’t know) news people take care of their own. As we watch an entire industry come to grips with such a graphic example of workplace violence, we will no doubt hear new details about all of the events leading up to this tragedy. These details will be magnified, politicized, examined, and theorized… all in the next few days. An outsider might chalk this up to just another disgruntled employee seeking some sort of revenge and move on, but for those inside the news business there will be many, many questions. And likely, no good answers.

Yesterday reminded me of the many wonderful people I worked with waaaaaaay back in the day. I want you to know that I saw your posts on social media and I recall the early mornings together, leaving work in the wee hours of the night, being called in at ridiculously, horrible hours in the a.m., covering good news stories, and retelling tragedies. But what I remember most was the family like atmosphere that truly exists at news stations across the country. We spent countless weekends together, numerous holidays and essentially some pretty big and meaningful days of our lives with one another. My heart goes out to those who mourn the loss of reporter Alison Parker and cameraman Adam Ward whose lives were struck down so tragically as they only intended to report the news and not be the news on that fateful morning. If I’ve learned anything in the business, it’s that most of us started out with a pretty big dream and that those who choose this profession do so hoping to change the world (for the better.)

And I believe that good journalism, good television, can make our world a better place. Christiane Amanpour

A Flood of Thoughts (aka Back to School Panic Attack)

Posted on August 13, 2015 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

Apply your heart to instruction and your ear to words of knowledge. Proverbs 23:12

Back to School 2015

I have a LOVE/HATE relationship with the whole “back to school” thing. I LOVE that my kids have the opportunity to grow and learn under the guidance of some pretty amazing teachers. I HATE that summer break is over. I LOVE that my kiddos are social butterflies…it’s good for them to be with their friends in the classroom and it takes the pressure off my role as “entertainment director.” I HATE that we have to wake up early. I LOVE having the house to myself for a few hours a day…and I HATE having the house to myself a few hours a day…you get the picture. So this morning as my daughter was packing up for her first day of 5th grade…something tripped my panic button hard–this wasn’t just the first day of 5th grade…no…, this was the first day of her last year in elementary school! I HATE the panic button 😦

As luck would have it (I’m saying this sarcastically,) we walked to school this morning…thus giving me plenty of time to think and let the panic button go to work. Was she prepared? Was she nervous? Would this be a good year? What really makes a school year good? It wasn’t long before my panic attack became a full blown list of “did I tell her….?” So for my sanity (because this “back to school” thing is all about me,) I’ve come up with a few thoughts to share with her (after school, of course.)

School is about learning. Sure you go there to learn the “school” stuff, but you will learn so much more. You’ll learn about yourself. Each day you’ll grow in discovering who you are, what you stand for, and all that you’re capable of accomplishing. You’ll find out what you like and what you don’t like (and you just might be surprised how the categories break down!)
No one said you have to know everything…so give yourself a break. Some things will come easily. Other things will make you work (hard.) Both are good.
Relationships are tough, but worthwhile. Getting to know a new teacher will take time. Building friendships take time. Discovering who to avoid…well, that takes time, too. Not everyone will like you and you probably won’t like everyone. Either way, be kind. You never know what someone else is going through. If you want a friend, be a friend. It is far better to be remembered for being a “good guy” than a total jerk.
Pay attention. Learning requires focus. Don’t assume anything. Ask questions. It’s okay not to get it the first time. Practice, preparation and performance are related. Don’t get behind. If you need help, say something.
Trust your instincts. God gives us that little voice for a reason. Tune your ears and your heart to it. Remember that peer pressure can be a trap. Comparing yourself to others is never a good idea.
Think before you speak. Words can hurt. Offer grace and understanding at every turn. Compassion for others goes a long way. Be a helper.
Even good kids make mistakes. You’re not perfect, none of us are. Making mistakes goes beyond the classroom. You know where I stand on drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, etc. Likewise, you should realize that lying, cheating, and disrespect will also not be tolerated. At the same time, I love you and together we can work through anything.
It’s okay to pray at school. I’m not telling you to get on the loud speaker and lead a revival, but don’t be afraid to ask God to guide you throughout your day.
School is your job right now. As your mother, I will be on you to do your homework, study for tests and remind you not to take short cuts. This is important for you now and in the future, but school performance is not the sum of your worth.
Attitude is everything. You get what you give. You will have bad days. Life is unfair. How you navigate through the good and the bad says a lot about your character. You can do this. I believe in you no matter what.

So my LOVE/HATE relationship with this time of year continues. I LOVE that I have the opportunity to share these thoughts with my daughter. I HATE that she’s growing up so fast. I LOVE watching my kiddos move forward on this journey toward adulthood. I HATE that tomorrow morning my son will have his first day of eighth grade. I can hear the panic button gearing up now….

Intelligence plus character – that is the goal of true education. Martin Luther King, Jr.

I’m Only Happy When It Rains (NOT!)

Posted on May 24, 2015 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

One can find so many pains when the rain is falling. –John Steinbeck.

Rain, rain go away…, oh, forget it. We’re past the point of cute nursery rhymes, the rain has gone on long enough, the puddles are turning into ponds and I’m going to come clean–I HATE the rain! I’ve always hated the rain.

For years, I feigned interest when people talked about rain. In Kansas, it seems that we never have enough rain and the topic comes up ALOT. People love to talk about the weather here…it’s a conversation staple. Don’t get me wrong…I am a big-time weather nerd, but the rain just doesn’t float my boat. At all. I can’t stand it when it’s gray and cloudy and I especially don’t like it when this type of weather goes on for days. This spring has been especially rainy and I’m so over it. In some ways it’s gone from annoying to spirit draining. I’m done.

I thought about writing a blog titled “5 things to do in the rain,” or maybe “5 things NOT to do on a rainy day, or “5 ways not to go INSANE when it won’t stop raining,” but…I just don’t care. This is what the rain does to me. It puts me in this pensive mood. It takes me to a place where time feels like it’s standing still…clocks no longer matter. The rain brings back memories (both good and bad.) It keeps me in this sleepy sort of daydream like mood. I feel like eating chocolate (and I’m not a huge chocolate kind of girl.) I have no energy. And the worst part is that I just don’t know what to do with myself. I should clean the house, I should catch up on work, I should start a project, I should bake something, I should read a book…but I can’t. As I write this I can imagine family and friends reaching for their phones…thinking that they should call and check on me. I’m fine. The truth is, I just hate the rain.

SpongeBob Uno…Jellyfish wild, anyone?

It’s funny to think that the rain could affect me so much. Especially since I LOVE thunderstorms! Crashes of lightening, booming thunder, and hail–oh, I’m a big fan. It’s exciting and BRIEF compared to our recent bout of never-ending showers. Several people have been complaining about how the rain is forcing them indoors and cancelling all their social plans. This makes me laugh because these are things that don’t bother me in the least. I’m not an outdoors person (too many bugs) and I’m perfectly happy keeping myself company (a self-proclaimed introvert.) Others have seized the opportunity to use these rainy days for family bonding and togetherness. This is all well and good, but there’s only so many games of Uno one can play in an afternoon (BTW that number is 37.)

Spencer family swamp. May 2015

Basically I am in survival mode trying to busy myself with anything that will distract me from staring out the window. This is where Facebook is an absolute godsend! I so enjoy all the posts about the rain…the worried, the productive, the thoughtful and especially the FUNNY takes on the weather! It’s rainy days like these where Pinterest is a lifesaver as I pin all the projects I will NEVER get to. Thank you, Instagram…#hashtag everything. Fellow blog writers…I appreciate all your genius insights into every subject under the sun (oh, yes, the glorious SUN!) Right now, you’re all keeping me sane AND awake! And finally, HGTV…where would I be without YOU? This sounds like an Academy Awards speech for keeping my head above water, but it’s so very true.

Right now all is quiet and it’s not even 9pm. The kids have retreated to their own corners of the house…binging on Minecraft and streaming TV shows. My husband is at the computer working. And the rain–well, it’s NOT stopping. When I pray tonight, I’ll be sure to thank God that I don’t live in the Pacific Northwest (as their rainy climate would absolutely kill me.) Along with this constant drip, I hear only one song playing over and over in my head…and it makes me smile.

Pour your misery down….

June Bugs in May (A Horror Story)

Posted on May 3, 2015 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

Insects are my secret fear. That’s what terrifies me more than anything – insects. —Michael O’Donoghue

This will probably only make sense to those who know me best: I HATE June bugs! I don’t remember when my phobia began, but I’m pretty sure that it’s hereditary since I have early childhood memories of my mom, my aunts, my cousins and my sister shrieking in terror when one would come around on a warm spring/summer night. By the time I was in junior high, the phobia was in full force…as my good friend, Joy, and I would part ways at the street light halfway between our houses. Under this light it would seem that June bugs gathered by the thousands…just looking for young girls with long hair to attack. Of course, we played it cool…walking to the street light, quickly saying our goodbyes and running like maniacs back to our houses screaming all the way! I think it’s their large bodies, hard shells, sticky limbs, drunken flight patterns and the sheer noisiness of the little beasts that send me into a tizzy. YUCK!

Turns out that up until now, my fear of June bugs was strictly theoretical. You see all that time I spent dodging them and screaming about them and running from them was merely child’s play. I had never actually had one land on me. I’ve never had to pull one from my hair. Mostly, when I saw one I ran the other direction and if I came across one on the ground well, I stepped on it and tried not to throw up (it’s that body crushing sound that makes me want to hurl.) This system was my response to these scary critters and while it may not sound like a great plan, it had always worked…that is up until last night….

While sitting around a warm campfire, preparing s’mores on an especially beautiful night I met my fear head on (so to speak, ) but let me back up just a bit–I should probably set this up a little. My kiddos were having friends over and with all the comings and goings I left the outdoor lights on. I wanted parents and kids arriving at our house to have a little light…especially since the bulb in the lamp-post that lights the sidewalk had burned out. This meant the flood light that illuminates the patio and basketball goal was on…for HOURS! It was during this time that a swarm of June bugs made their way to our house. There were so many that my son and his friend took to trying to exterminate the problem by clubbing them with sticks (probably a boy thing) and stepping on them. This was all well and good (or so I thought) because 1. it gave them something to do while they were waiting for every one to arrive and 2. they were killing the June bugs! By the time we were ready to get started I foolishly believed that the June bugs were no longer and issue and that any remaining little beasts would simply move on to someone else’s yard once we turned out the lights. But, NO.

The only good June bug–a dead one!

Throughout the campfire we could HEAR the June bugs lurking. Much of the noise came from June bugs running into the garage wall where the light had once been. There was even a loud popping noise when the less brilliant bugs sizzled up in the fire–much to the amusement of the kids. And finally there was the crackling noise of the June bugs beneath MY feet as I moved about helping the kiddos make their s’mores. Each crunchy moment made me want to lose my dinner and I wasn’t even sure if I was going to be able to stomach eating a s’more myself. After about 20 minutes my thoughts drifted away from these horrible bugs and on to the silly ghosts stories that were being told. But wouldn’t you know it…just when I finally got past the situation enough to put together my own ooey gooey, delicious s’more I felt something. No it wasn’t in my hair or on my arm…no the sinister little beast was crawling up my pant leg–ON THE INSIDE!

So there I was with my marshmallow stick in one hand and my fixin’s in the other when I could feel something moving up my leg (darn those wide leg, boot cut jeans.) Okay, I thought, be calm…we have company. We don’t want to panic the children. I’ll just crush it up against my leg and then it will fall out, right? (As I type this I can’t believe those words crossed my mind!) So I quickly transferred everything to one hand and smacked my knee with the other. I heard and felt the crunch. I shook out my pant leg, but nothing fell out. Surely, I had killed the thing! I mean, I hit it pretty hard. I shook my pant leg even more, stepping out of my sandal and using the moonlight to search out the area. NOTHING. Alright, maybe it fell out and I just didn’t see it. Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll go with that. Thinking that the issue had resolved itself, I went back to the task at hand and set out to assemble my s’more. As soon as I bit into that little square of goodness that same feeling returned to my leg. This time I couldn’t help but react. I jumped, squirmed and announced, “There’s a bug in my pants!” You can imagine the giggles and fits of laughter. Great. So again I smacked my knee as hard as I could and this time I knew without a doubt that I had succeeded in killing that thing. You can’t deny BUG JUICE! (Excuse me now while I once again try NOT to throw up!)

What I realized last night is that somewhere along the way, I must have grown up. While I still wholeheartedly claim AND proclaim my June bug phobia–somehow I got through that moment. In the past a trauma like this would have completely ruined my night, but not this time. Instead, I shook out my pant leg (again) and what was left of the bug fell out (of course, I immediately stepped on it for good measure.) Then I moved past it. We finished up our s’mores and Steve and I enjoyed chatting by the fire until nothing was left but smoldering embers. It was so peaceful. Obviously, I didn’t want to discover another bug up my leg, but I wasn’t afraid to let my feet rest on the same slab of concrete where the incident occurred. Call me crazy, but this is BIG GIRL stuff! I felt so good and proud of myself (especially after that squishy spot dried on my pant leg.) Sometimes it truly is the little victories…”sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the bug”…and sometimes you just get over it and move on as dignified as possible…BUG JUICE and all!

She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. Proverbs 31:25

My Purse Keeps Getting Bigger (and Not for the Right Reasons)

Posted on April 22, 2015 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

As the purse is emptied, the heart is filled. –Victor Hugo

My briefcase-sized purse…easily weighs 8-10 pounds.

Remember the good ol’ days? Footloose and fancy free? Not a care in the world? I do…and what I remember most about them was that everything that I truly NEEDED fit into the palm of my hand. Gone are the days of tucking cherry-flavored Chapstick into my pocket and heading out the door. No more securing a dollar bill to the inside of my sock…you know, just in case. Forget about making room in your shoe to save that last piece of gum for later (seriously, forget about that–it’s a bad idea.) All of these good times ended at about age 16…the year where freedom (a.k.a. driving) meant that you had to carry proof that you were indeed legal behind the wheel! Thus one enters the era of THE PURSE….

At first, having a purse made me feel all grown up. My purse contained nothing but the necessities, right? This is sorta funny because at the time I remember searching my room frantically for items to fill my purse. You know–a comb, lipstick, gum/candy/breath mints (sometimes ALL three), a pen. perfume (I know…I’m sorry,) a stylish journal (for all my important thoughts) and of course a wallet for money…plus that prized driver’s license (the reason I desperately needed a purse in the first place.) In the beginning the purse was pretty small…always messenger style so I could wear it across my body. This is important, because when you’re new to carrying around a purse you need one that you can’t lose…just saying. The purse and I became sympatico and a love/hate relationship was established.

By the time college came around I had to re-evaluate the whole purse thing. Life was changing–big time! I found that college life required a backpack and not necessarily a little messenger purse. The school that I attended was situated on top of a hill, so a lot of walking was a given. Fortunately, I found an item that I refer to as a wallet-keychain. This nifty little gadget became my best friend for four years. It tucked nicely into the backpack, held the bare essentials (license, student ID, money, and bank card) and was attached to my keys! Genius. I wished I had discovered it in high school. This would make everything better…or so I thought. But the purse would eventually have its revenge.

After graduation I ventured into a career path that required some “primping” to say the least (I am only slightly embarrassed to say that I wanted to be the next Connie Chung 🙂 ) Carrying a make-up bag, a brush and comb, etc. was just the norm for this girl with big dreams. Add onto that the things I needed for work: a pen (a back up pen,) a notebook, tapes (and back up tapes,) and HAIRSPRAY! Then there were the snacks (you wondered when I would get to this point?) You see, when your lunch hour varies (or doesn’t necessarily exist) you need more than gum to sustain yourself. Small packages of crackers, cookies and even instant coffee started entering the picture and filling my (now bigger) purse. My shoulder aches just thinking about those days.

I wish I could say that changing career paths meant less stuff and a smaller purse. It didn’t…and mostly because I moved to California. You’re probably wondering why that matters, but it does matter and maybe not for the reasons you might think. It wasn’t that I needed a big purse so that I could keep up with the Kardashians, but rather I needed a purse filled with survival supplies. While California is amazingly beautiful, it’s also a jungle! And jungle life meant that you had to be ready for your 11 mile commute to take as long as two hours. If you had to cross a bridge, someone else’s fender bender might have you looking at a 3 hour delay. Traffic is ridiculous there and so you had to pack ridiculous things in your purse. Water was just as big a deal then as it is now. Carrying around water bottles was not only in vogue, but it could save your life on a warm, Cali day if the traffic was particularly uncooperative (especially when you AC goes out!) Food in your purse was a must, but because this was the Golden State you felt obligated to have “healthy” food. Fruit, nuts, cheese and crackers were the standards–and “fresh” food meant carrying a cold-pak, too. I pity the person who got busted stuffing their face with Cheetos on the California freeway! (Really, you should know better!)

But never was the purse’s revenge as terrible as the day I become a mother. It’s like I could hear the purse saying, “You will never, EVER go back!” I tried making my purse into a diaper bag and when that didn’t work I asked the diaper bag to do double duty as a baby-things-carry-all and a purse. Either way you look at it, I was carrying around a bunch of nonsense. Okay, you’re thinking…”Well, your kids weren’t toddlers forever, right? Eventually you went back to carrying around a plain old purse.” Well, yes AND no. Now that I was a mom I discovered this unwritten rule where you are forced to carry things for your kiddos. This form of servanthood is sneaky, even to the most savvy mother. So many times I have told my children that if they brought it, they had to carry it…only to find my purse a little heavier and their book, toy, or gadget safety tucked inside while my child proceeded to run and do hand stands all over the place with their newfound freedom.

My migration to the extra-large purse didn’t end with just the kids’ stuff. My purse also doubles as a medicine cabinet. Bandages, Neosporin, allergy medicine, etc. all make their home here as well. I am the keeper of Kleenex, keys and bubble gum (of various flavors nonetheless.) My purse houses accessories for cleaning glasses, and extra contact lenses as well as a portable hair salon equipped with fashionable hair-ties for my daughter. Need to write something down? I have pencils, pens and SHARPIES (assorted colors) in my bag! Not to mention lotion, hand sanitizer, post-its and a small magnifying glass (BTW I’m aging and my eyes were the first things to go.) I have ear buds, sunglasses and occasionally pizza crumbs (don’t ask.) These are just the staples, I could go on (and on….)

So why am I telling you all this? Because I want it to stop. REALLY. I am over the purse thing. I want to be the kind of person who just goes with the flow (sans the “luggage.”) The kind of person who doesn’t need a million accessories just to go to the grocery store or to watch my kiddos play ball. I want to go back to the days when everything I NEEDED fit into the palm of my hand. I am craving simplicity and I think the reason all of this has to come to a head is because physically AND spiritually the purse is weighing me down. Stop. I know that’s a pretty big leap, but hear me out. I finally understand the reason I carry around the equivalent of a briefcase everywhere I go, 365 days a year. It’s because of fear and control. Every time a situation has come up in the last 20+ years and I DIDN’T have the tools I needed to handle it, another “something” was added to the purse. This is a pretty big revelation for me. While feigning having it all together, what was really going on was a lack of trust. I didn’t trust myself, I didn’t trust life and in someway I was also saying that I didn’t trust God (at least not completely.)

My new wristlet…smaller than a paperback book!

After so many years, it’s going to be hard to change this pattern…to fight the urge to cover all the bases, at all times–EVERY time. The desire to be superwoman, superwife, supermom, etc. is so very strong. Listen, I know this isn’t the biggest problem on the planet, but I feel convicted to make a change. I want to trust more…to put myself out there. In some suburban-housewife-kind-of-way…this is my next faith test. So here’s where I am–I purchased a wristlet (which just may be the grown-up version of the wallet-keychain that I loved so much in college.) Full disclosure–right now the wristlet resides in my purse (along side a million other items,) but I am making a plan to downsize to this little dandy. Just the NECESSITIES! Those of you who know me, know that this is a tall order! I think I’m up to the challenge. Don’t worry, I’m not going cold turkey…I will still have a large bag (NOT a purse) for sporting events, kid-related activities and church projects. So what if I don’t have a bandage for every boo-boo or a just the right flavor of gum for my kiddos? I have a funny feeling (and a whole lot of FAITH) that we will survive…and it just might save my shoulders, too!

Then Jesus asked them, “When I sent you without purse, bag or sandals, did you lack anything?” “Nothing,” they answered. Luke 22:35

Losing Our Easter Booth (and Our “P.I.G.” Status)

Posted on April 3, 2015 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

When you leave a beautiful place, you carry it with you wherever you go. –Alexandra Stoddard

Never, EVER, did I think I would be writing about a midwest BBQ chain and Easter Sunday. Yet, here I am. This goes to show two things…first, that the cliché holds true (again): Never say never. And second. that convenient, tasty, family style BBQ is perfectly acceptable as a go-to meal for ANY holiday or celebration (and in our family’s case, especially religious ones!)

Easter Lunch 2013

For the past six years we have “dined” at Famous Dave’s on Easter Sunday. Okay, I know it’s not fine dining. Yes, I am aware that they are a paper napkin establishment (gasp!) And I understand that French fries are not typical Easter dinner fare. (Glad we got all that out of the way 🙂 ) Still, I think Famous Dave’s is just as good a place as any to celebrate Jesus’ resurrection. It’s a Spencer family tradition that’s often met with puzzling looks, stammering comments and even a little pity. But that’s okay. We like Famous Dave’s and we especially like the reason we ended up there in the first place (insert sappy background music here….)

In 2009, my husband was called to lead what I will politely label a “broken” church. You see the pastor had decided to leave our denomination and he additionally took the congregation with him. For whatever reasons, all that was left were about a dozen people, loads of tech equipment and a lot of questions. This clearly would not be easy. And, did I mention this was Steve’s first senior pastor appointment? Despite the best efforts of many, the prayers of many more and the sheer broken-heartedness of the situation, a decision was made to close down the church. All of this took place in a matter of weeks. It was one of the saddest things I have ever witnessed. So here’s the worst part…the last worship celebration for this now defunct church would be on Easter Sunday. (I can hardly type these words!) CLOSING A CHURCH ON EASTER. (There really should be a law against such a thing!) I could barely stomach the idea. I thought of the church members who stayed behind. Those who wanted to restructure and carry on. And all those who put their heart and soul into trying to make this church a healthy, functioning place of worship. But it wasn’t meant to be.

Much work went into that final worship celebration. First, there was the cleaning. Since worship would be held in the church’s youth building, couches had to be moved, chairs brought in and EVERYTHING had to be wiped down. The sound system was reconfigured, light bulbs were replaced and a small room was readied to serve as a nursery. A sweet woman who had hoped for a different outcome for her church set aside her sorrow and assembled Easter baskets for any children who would arrive on Sunday morning. With just a few musicians, songs were selected to praise a newly risen King. My husband crafted a sermon of hope and promise…in the midst of all of the responsibilities of closing a church. It was a sad and rainy morning. I felt like God was weeping right along with us.

But if you know how the Easter story ends…then you know that there are no limits to what our Great Creator can do! As worship came to a close, the sun and the SON broke through! The rain moved out and although we closed the doors on that final worship celebration, what we didn’t know was that God was already opening another. It was almost three o’clock in the afternoon when we left the church parking lot that day. Our children, ages 7 and 4 at the time, were tired and hungry. In the midst of all that was going on we neglected to make lunch plans…and that’s how we ended up at Famous Dave’s.

The restaurant was practically empty. The lunch crowd was gone, the wait staff looked spent and here walks in this family of four…dressed in now wrinkled Easter wear, tired and clearly saddened. We crawled into what would be called our Easter booth…to be honest, while we always sat in a booth on these occasions it wasn’t the same booth every time–and that was okay. Steve ordered ribs, I ordered the baked potato with chili and the kiddos put in their request for chicken strips and fries. Then we waited. Not just for food, but for everything. We honestly didn’t know where we would land…although we knew it would be another church, most likely in another town. And yet somehow, in that little booth our spirits lifted. The children made us laugh and we counted our blessings. We were together and life was in fact GOOD! There was safety and warmth in those comfy, red seats. The little kids’ menus reminded us that at Famous Dave’s we’re all P.I.G.s…Pretty Important Guests! I liked the thought of that and when the meal arrived, we prayed. The food tasted extra delicious that day, too–satisfying in a way that I cannot explain. An afternoon at Famous Dave’s was just what we needed.

Obviously, we kept going back. Steve was appointed to a new church in a nearby suburb and our Easter lunch plans practically wrote themselves. After a busy Holy Week and all its activities, we found a sanctuary at the east side’s Famous Dave’s restaurant. The pig-themed decorations, the fishing signs and decals, and those red colored booths–we loved it all! I have several photos of our kids in their cute, little Easter outfits posing with their Daddy for our annual Easter pic. Good times. Blessed times. Necessary times…but as you can guess, “the times they are a-changing” (thanks, Bob Dylan.) Famous Dave’s closed this past fall…and the Spencer family DID NOT find out about it until January 😦

Holy Week has arrived again and the question on everyone’s mind is “where are we going to eat Easter lunch?” I don’t have any answers. I have tried to coordinate just how long it will take us to drive to the nearest Famous Dave’s (too long unfortunately.) I’ve looked into dining at other BBQ establishments. I’ve tried to sell myself on the idea of having Mexican food on Easter (it’s not working.) I’ve even thought about preparing and cooking a meal myself (and if you know me, then you know this is a desperate thought!) The reality is we’ve lost our Easter booth, but we certainly haven’t lost Easter and all its promises. So tonight as I type this, I still have no clue what we will be doing for lunch. Somehow, though, I’ve gone past worry and fret to a place of “wait and see.” Not a flippant, inactive state, but rather an active, hopeful resolve. My husband and kids are not with me in this place. They want answers and our P.I.G. status back! But please, don’t feel bad for us…because I so clearly remember a gray, downcast day not so long ago when the sun and the SON came out. It’s Easter, everyone, and we KNOW how the story ends. I’m not sure if the booths will be red, but I know that wherever we end up we’ll be fed (in more ways than one)…and it WILL certainly be good!

Praying that the Holy Spirit moves you to worship this Easter Sunday and that you experience the hope and renewal that Christ Jesus offers to us each and every day. Amen.

Beyond Grateful (A Slice of Ministry Life)

Posted on March 23, 2015 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God. Acts 20:24

“Just because you go to seminary doesn’t mean you have to be a pastor.” I’m sure those words have been uttered by other seminarians (?) but the first time I heard these words they were coming out of the mouth of my husband. Although I knew he would become a Pastor, he wasn’t absolutely convinced at the time. Silly guy. Called is CALLED…am I right? Needless to say, all these many years later, we are a clergy family–growing spiritually and serving in ministry–and I am beyond grateful for this call upon ALL of our lives! It wasn’t something that I expected or even considered a possibility. In fact, you just might file this experience right up there with “things that make you go hmmmm….”

As a pastor’s wife I’ve seen a lot of stuff. Interesting stuff. Far too much to include here, but one of the things that always stops me dead in my tracks is the way people respond to this vocation. People (churchgoing and non-churchgoing) seem to have a preconceived notion about our life and us. My all-time favorite reaction to this calling occurred at a local restaurant a few years back on our anniversary. While waiting for a table we struck up a conversation (or should I say, Steve struck up a conversation…he’s the talker) with another couple. We were making small talk when the exchange drifted from “what brings you out tonight?” to “California wineries.” (Steve is from the San Francisco Bay Area and we lived there for a few years together early in our marriage.) This was a favorite vacation spot for our new friends and we compared notes about some of our best-loved places in the region. All was right in the world when suddenly the man asked my husband what he did for a living. (Insert screech sound effect here.) Let’s just say in a record amount of time we had gone from potential “besties” to complete zeroes. The guy actually turned away from us. I, of course, can’t help but chuckle when I recall the experience (yes, I have a strange sense of humor!)

Unfortunately, it’s not the first time we’ve seen this reaction. And, I’m okay with that. I only tell this story because time and time again I hear people comment that it must be “hard” to be a clergy family. They feel bad for our children because they wear the “PK” label. The general impression is that we operate outside of “ordinary” life. For some the word “clergy” is quickly linked with judgemental, hypocritical, strict and even boring. Hey, we’re all entitled to our own opinions! But for me, it’s just another addendum to that file I mentioned earlier–you know the one titled “things that make you go hmmmm….” So, I would like to state for the record that we’re just about as ordinary as people get. You don’t have to feel bad for us or think that we live this horrible, sheltered, recluse life. We actually laugh (a lot,) disagree occasionally, hang out at places outside of the church, and sometimes we even have interesting things to say (and it’s not always about church!) Being a clergy family really isn’t all that awful…in fact, it might actually be AWESOME. And that’s really what I wanted to share with you today.

So while every vocation comes with its own share of good and bad…ministry comes with an amazingly huge amount of AWESOME! Not just the parking-angels-smiled-on-me-today or I-found-an-extra-$20-in-my-pocket kind of awesome, but the kind of AWESOME that only God can provide. Working in a church and being a part of a community of believers comes with a lot of God-moments. These are the kind of things regularly lifted up as part of Sunday morning worship, in prayer chains and sprinkled in conversations all over the church. These are the incidents where the impossible becomes possible. The times where generosity and grace exude from every direction and you just know you’re in the midst of something amazing and special. And the greatest part is that these AWESOME moments are not confined to the walls of the church building. This is the part of our life that I wish I could just wrap up and share with everyone…because it’s not exclusive to clergy families. It is ready and available to everyone. God’s desire for creation is that we live with our eyes and hearts open to the AWESOME moments. Saying YES to Jesus is saying YES to life. Taking nothing for granted, grateful for the good things and seeking out the unexpected. This is what God can do!

Throughout Steve’s ministry we have been blessed time and time again. Please do not receive this sentence as boastful. I type it in the most humble manner possible. As a kid I remember feeling God’s presence and the comfort and security only He can offer. Today, as I’ve grown in my own faith, I feel God’s presence not only with the promise of comfort and security, but alongside the assurance of joy and hope! Our life isn’t easy. No life is easy. We all struggle, we all worry, we all fall short, but I am so glad that I never go through anything, good or bad, alone. NEVER. Outside of a loving relationship with our Creator and Savior, I think fellowship among believers is one of God’s greatest gifts to us. Have you seen the good that a church body can do? I can tell you that this kind of support and encouragement cannot be matched. When people say “church family” the key word is family! I cannot imagine life without these treasured friends and we’ve been privileged to be a part of many church families that remain near and dear to our hearts despite the miles.

So, what spurred this post? (Yes, I actually had a point when I started writing today!) Our family has recently been the recipient of something so kind and generous I cannot even begin to tell you how astonished we felt in receiving this gift. It came out of the blue and when we least expected it. It was an answer to a prayer that we might not have even fully realized yet. I would gladly share the details, but we received this gift anonymously and I believe in honoring the giver’s intention. However, I will tell you that this is the sort of thing that qualifies as amazingly AWESOME. We are a witness to God’s love through the hands of his followers. This is the “blessed to be a blessing,” that Steve talks about all the time. This sort of generosity is the kind of thing we practice and diligently try to teach our kids (they’re still learning, by the way.) And I am beyond grateful. Not just for this timely gift, but also for so many other things that God has placed in our lives. To Him belongs the glory. We do not understand, we cannot explain, we do not deserve God’s marvelous love and grace..and yet it’s my favorite thing to file under “things that make you go hmmmm….”

God is good all the time. And all the time…God is good.

He’s Not YOU and She’s Not ME (Oh, the Perils of Parenting!)

Posted on March 15, 2015 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

Don’t try to make children grow up to be like you, or they may do it. –Russell Baker

The idea of being in charge of small people always seemed overwhelming to me. Babies need constant care, toddlers keep you running, then come the tantrums…and all this during a child’s cutest phase! And please, don’t be fooled by the false hope of the elementary school years…while the child is certainly capable of handling many tasks independently, elementary school is definitely a whirlwind all its own. If questions and comments your child picked up from preschool friends had you blushing…just wait! With a better vocabulary and dedicated lunch/recess time to “share,” your child is sure to come home with a couple of doozies! I am just now treading into the tween and teen years of parenthood and I’m anticipating even more hurdles and embarrassing conversations. I mean, these are the years they actually WARN us about 😦

In reality parenthood is everything they said it would be…good, bad, frustrating and rewarding. We love our kiddos and I’m pretty sure the cycle of life isn’t going anywhere! However, it’s come to my attention lately that dealing with my kids is getting a lot more complicated. When they were little they exemplified typical “little” people behavior. The moments of defiance and cuteness along with the awe of learning new things were just part of a normal day. And newsflash–probably none of our children were truly exceptional at this point. In fact, I’ve read several studies that suggest that most of our children all level out in kindergarten. That means despite being the product of a stay-at-home mom, single-parent household, working parents, or daycare (home or otherwise,) all of our kiddos have reached the same milestones at this particular crossroad in life. The differences become evident after our children enter school and not necessarily because of school itself. It appears that a child’s personality begins to develop and solidify all within the first few years of elementary school (barring any huge life events, of course.) I am not a psychologist, but I think the stats hold up. An even-tempered child at age 6 likely maintains that even temper. A selfish child at age 7 probably has selfish tendencies throughout life. A sensitive demeanor at age 8 means the child has a good chance of maintaining that sensitivity well into adulthood.

So here’s where I stand with my now “complicated” kiddos. As a 10 and 13-year-old, their personalities are well-developed and those same personalities are not afraid to go head to head with mine! This is a good AND a bad thing. As nature would have it, my kids and I have some similar personality traits. For example, my son and I are suckers for comedies and enjoy wasting hours watching funny movies. We laugh at the same dumb things and for the most part “speak the same language.” My daughter and I both love organization, we approach problems very analytically, and LOVE to read and learn new things! All three of us are artistic. On the other hand, my kids are extremely social while I am an introvert. Their constant need to be with friends and have friends over just blows me away! They both enjoy sports while I threw out my hip playing kickball in my grandma’s front yard (no athletic ability here.) They both love video games and I consider video games to be the ultimate waste of time. None of this is a deal breaker, but we do spar over homework, practice time, and responsibility. I wonder about their commitment level, attention to detail and their desire to work hard. I have a tough time hearing them complain about problems that they can fix themselves, whine about situations that get a little difficult and sulk when things don’t go their way. It’s in these things that I have to stop and remind myself, “He’s not you, and she’s not me.”

It’s not an easy thing to maneuver. When I got into this parenting gig I never once contemplated the idea that these little beings could give me any problems or try my nerves. In a naïve way, I imagined they would be some kind of “mini-me” and thus, they would be perfectly reasonable at all times (feel free to laugh out loud here!) All any of us really have to go on when we enter parenthood are our own childhood experiences, the experiences of those closest to us, and maybe a couple of baby books. So basically, we might as well go into this blind…because this is what I remember from my early days:

I’m pretty sure I was not your typical child. In a lot of ways I was probably always a little bit of a grown up…or perhaps an old soul. I was thoughtful in ways that most kids never think of…weighing the pros and cons of many decisions that others wouldn’t even consider. I was very self-concerned and stubborn. I worked hard. By the time I was 8 I knew I wanted to go to college and I was driven to get there. I was shy and serious. I was afraid of failure. I WAS BY NO MEANS PERFECT. I put a lot of pressure on myself. I hated making mistakes and vowed to learn from them. I felt very safe and secure with my family. I was creative. I didn’t really care what other people thought of me. I believed in a God who loved me and would never abandon me.

This is how I “remember” my childhood, but this alone doesn’t garner enough information on how to raise a child…especially a child that in all likelihood would be very different from myself. Oh, how I wish I had realized all this earlier!

Possessing an awareness that there are and will be differences is key to navigating my parenting responsibilities now and into the future. This newfound credo of “he’s not you, and she’s not me,” might be the saving grace that I need to get over this parenting hump. Stepping back and realizing that we are all separate individuals and that our differences are okay (heck, we might even learn something from one another) could make these next years a growing experience for us all. I know that the head to head battles will exist (there’s no way I’m going to let them grow up without a sense of accountability and purpose,) but hopefully the battles will also include some level of understanding. I truly love these kiddos and I want to love them into being the people God called them to be…not a “mini-me” clone and certainly not the “ideal” person that lives in my imagination. Most of us hope to raise children to be more than ourselves…we seek to give them not only the things that we had growing up but so much more. We want them to have the benefit of all those who have come before them…us included. The long-held belief that each generation should be better than the one before drives us in so many ways, but it’s also a belief that can cause us to “run-over” our own children. A lack of understanding can stop them in their tracks before they’ve even had a chance to start…and we’ve all seen it happen far too many times.

My kids will not have a childhood experience that mirrors mine. Their friendships and relationships will look different from the ones I knew 30+ years ago. They will stumble and fall. They will let me down and they will find a strength that I never knew they could possess. These same kiddos will test the waters and sometimes they will get hurt. They will succeed in areas where I’ve failed and they will thrive in places I would have been too afraid to venture into. And really, the last thing the world needs is a “mini-me,” (because I am certainly not all that easy to deal with!) In the end, when they finally reach adulthood, I pray that I would have loved them through all of it. I know it will not be easy because I have high hopes and expectations (I’m still a mom after all!) But these years–the tweens and teens, the “home-stretch” if you will, are far too valuable to just endure. These are critical times. Love your daughter. Love your son. And remember, “he’s not you and she’s not me…” it just might make all the difference.

Childhood is a short season. –Helen Hayes

hymningandhaing (The Title Explained)

Posted on February 22, 2015 by Anna Ortiz Spencer

First learn the meaning of what you say, and then speak. Epictetus, Greek Philosopher

Not that anyone has ever asked, but I thought that maybe I should explain (just in case the thought ever crossed your mind)…why hymningandhaing? If it sounds familiar and looks horribly misspelled, then you’re right on both accounts. The title is my take on the familiar idiom “hem and haw.”

When I began writing this blog in 2011, I planned to share bits and pieces of my faith along with my everyday life and I wanted a title that would reflect that theme (go with me on this one, the road is a little twisted here….) To hem and haw means to dither, refuse to give a definitive answer and to keep one’s options open (according to The Word Detective at least.) So while the more familiar version of hemming and hawing connotes a level of indecisiveness, uncertainty and fence-sitting, my interpretation is a little more personal. The “hymning” part is a playful way of suggesting that while I’m a pastor’s wife, I am also the least literate hymn person in the congregation! I didn’t grow up in church so for the most part the hymnal is full of dozens of songs I’ve never, EVER heard of. Not exactly what you’d expect from the so-called “first lady of the church,” (a title that makes me giggle every time!) While this might seem like a sad state of affairs, the “haing” part of the title (pronounced ha-ing…like ha, ha, ha) suggests that I try to take all this in stride and accept the fact that no matter what role I find myself in (wife, mother, sister, friend, etc.) I always try to find the lighter side of things and not take myself too seriously. Afterall, NONE of this was my plan. I am just grateful that God’s plans are so much bigger than anything I could have imagined for myself! And that’s where the original hemming and hawing meets my variation. I don’t know where all this is going or how it will all play out. For the most part, I try to stay open to the possibilities, be thoughtful in all situations and just wait and see…realizing that I don’t have all the answers (if any at all.)

So that’s it. It’s definitely not an earth shattering revelation. Just a little insight. Although I will admit that it makes me belly laugh every time someone mispronounces the blog title! My favorite to date is when someone asked me why I call it hymning-and-HAYing…is it because I live on a farm? (No, I don’t.) 🙂