Author Archives: tam

My 6th Grade Year Elective Class That Nearly Killed Me!

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At the time it was the largest Jr High School in the country. Southgate Jr High. I was in the 6th grade and had 7 classes. School began at 7:40 and let out and 3:45. The school was two stories. It had a pool and a garden. It was ridiculously big and daunting for a shy little 11 year old like me.

I was way out of my comfort zone. I was a kid that was easily stressed and even more easily perplexed and exasperated. It didn’t take much to fluster me. That is still, too often, true. This school was so big that students were assigned more than one locker depending on the location of each class. I had so many classes at opposite ends that I was given three lockers.

So, to break it down… 11 years old, 7 classes, 3 lockers AND combinations, long hours and I hated it. Until I learned I could pick one class for myself. 6 were assigned to me but one was all mine!!

There was dance class but I am a hopeless white girl with no ability to move rhythmically in any way shape or form. There was painting…I thought that might be fun but I didn’t want to get paint on me. There was also gardening but I didn’t like worms…or dirt. Then, I saw it. It jumped off the page and hit me upside the head and screamed…PICKE ME! PICK ME! So, I did.

Shop Class.

THAT I can do. I mean, I’m a girl. That’s a no brainer. Of course I can shop! They actually teach this??

The next school day I am ready for my classes. My elective is the last period. I’m so excited I can’t even concentrate in any other class. Teach me the ways of shopping, please!

Finally it comes. 7th period. I walk in to Shop Class. I pause. I tilt my head. I look around. I must be in the wrong class. I take a whiff…it smells. It smells like oil and glue. And there is lumber, bolts, hammers, rope and my teacher is a guy. An old, balding guy with greasy hands. I look around more and all I see are boys. Not only are they gross, they smell too.

I quickly realize I’ve made a mistake. I panic and try to conjure up some kind of scheme to get out of this. I got it!

Excuse me? Teacher? I’m sorry. But I can’t stay in this class. I have sinuses.

Ok. I actually had terrible, chronic, sinus infections as a child but had no idea that is what they were called.

He replies…I have sinuses too. Sit down.

I sat. Then, I cried. I couldn’t stop. The panic got the best of me. And Mr. Teacher panicked too. He walked over to my desk and handed me a pass to the guidance office to get transfered to a new class.

I wanted to hug him but his flannel was filthy. So I smiled and ran. I ran as fast I could.

I ended up in Home Ec that day and learned how to thread a needle. I can sew a button on a pair of jeans like no one’s business!

 

What’s your most embarrassing school moment?

Take Heart…It Matters!

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In June of 2011 our family moved from Southern Oregon to Nashville TN to work with Cross Point. It was a big move for us. Our kids were born and raised in OR. It was all they knew. This move was risky. But we knew it was what we were supposed to do. So, we did it!

Brent came on staff with Cross Point to be the campus pastor for their North Campus. That campus has recently become our Hendersonville campus. A campus that sets up and tears down each and every Sunday.

We all arrive at 6 a.m. and leave around 1 p.m.

Our volunteers have been serving in this capacity from day one…nearly 2 1/2 years ago. It is hard work. It is labor intensive. It takes a lot of time and organization. It takes commitment. It takes physical strength and stamina. It also takes a toll.

I know there are many who serve in this capacity with churches who set up and tear down every week. It can get tiresome. It can become very frustrating. In fact, you may have grown resentful. But let me offer you a word of encouragement…

You are not just getting up early – You are going before those who will show up for the first time to meet their Savior.

You are not just breaking a sweat – You are sweating in thanks to the One who purposed you to tell the nations.

You are not just setting up 150 chairs – You are providing a place for the wounded to come and sit in the lap of their Healer.

You are not “doing church” – You are creating an experience. 

You are not clocking in and out – You are investing in lives! 

For every chair you set out…For every crayon you put in a basket…For every coffee creamer you place in a bowl…For every cable you run across a gym floor to an amp…For every sign you hang…For each and everything your hands commit to you are creating an experience for those to come. You are creating an atmosphere for others to come into and rest. A place for Gods people to enter into to find hope, encouragement, friendship, counsel, healing…life. A safe place for others to meet God.

I know this is hard work. I am exhausted from serving today. I feel like I’ve done a months worth of P90X. And every single second of it is worth it. None of this is about us. It is about God and the ones He sent his son to love on.

Your service, commitment and hard work does not go unnoticed. 

You are not just waking up early, tearing your muscles and blistering your hands. You are providing a place to bring good news.

Take heart…you are doing a good work! And though we do not serve solely for a reward, He is aware.

For every finger you lift…for every sweat drop that falls from your face..for every muscle you pull…you are creating a place of hope. Please know this.

The next time you are set to serve in this, or any, capacity, be mindful of the “why” behind it. It isn’t just about setting up a room – you are setting up a Holy Moment.

Be encouraged, friends! And know that God is pleased with your efforts and that you are a part of changing lives.

Thank you for all you do!!

[Here are a few pics of our campus set up]

BEFORE

AFTER

PIPE AND DRAPE BEGINS

STAGE SET UP

SOUND AND MEDIA SET UP

BREAK!

PRAISE!

WHY WE DO WHAT WE DO

The Space Outside Our Walls

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Last Fall I had the opportunity to visit Reality Church in San Francisco. I absolutely loved this church. The vibe, the friendliness, the focus on community and serving, the teaching. The weekend I attended, the Pastor spoke on what our responsibility is as a culture; encouraging us to create culture with what God has given us.

Ex: Nature gives us color – culture gives us art.

I love this thought. I instantly think about leaves. So often I see colors in homes, paintings, clothes, cosmetics and immediately think about nature, the source of the colors. I commented on a green wall color this weekend that caused me to long for Spring when trees will awake from their slumber announcing their arrival with brilliant colors exclaiming to us, “Take notice! I made it through!”

Nature knows nothing else but to forge forward. It is constantly living. Supplying. Growing. Nature is always doing what it does best. What it was created to do.

I understand why people connect with nature so much. It draws our attention to how we were created. The same God that created nature also created us. Did He not make us just as capable, or more, to withstand harsh winters, dry deserts, severe storms? Did He intend for us to wilt and shrink back permanently when treacherous downpours fall on us out of nowhere? If the dirt we walk on can dry up and choose to sprout life again, then surely we can, too.

Sometime this week, take a walk outside. Don’t bring your iPod, phone or anything. Just you and the fresh air and the nature around you. Breathe in the space. And as you look around you at Gods creation, think about what you’re seeing. Reflect on the life, the colors, the process of growth, stability and the fact that nature is always there…pushing through, providing us beauty and inspiration. But, more than anything – giving us reason and hope to bloom, too. I believe this is a gift from God that we might do well to pay more attention to.

[This post was inspired by the Luminous Project. Luminous is an event for creatives on May 9-11, 2012 in Nashville. To find out more, check out LuminousProject.com.]

 

I May Have Slightly Screamed In Wal-Mart & Bought Funyons

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Strolling through the aisles. One after another after another. Bumping into people’s carts…I mean, “buggies” (I’m in the south now). I’m wondering why there are so many different types of cereal. The number of brands take up both sides of the aisle. Two aisles away sits mayonnaise. Just a few types. On a bottom shelf. The humble item, I guess.

I’m also wondering why I have both kids with me on this grocery shopping adventure. Oh yes! I remember. It’s because Middle TN was under a Tornado Watch for most of Wednesday and I didn’t want to leave them home alone. Or, just maybe, I didn’t want to be alone :roll:

About 4 aisles in it happens…

BOOM!!!

And then again… BOOM!!! Followed by several more BOOMS!!!

Then followed hysteria. But that was just me. Everyone else was fine. What’s wrong with you people?!! The sky is falling down on top of the Wal-Mart Supercenter and you’re more concerned about which can of Rotel to get?!

With each deafening thunder crash and two straight minutes at a time of equally deafening rainfall I grew more and more tense and nervous. My kids? They were fine. In fact, I may have heard them laugh at me a time or twelve.

I asked Kota if he thought we were in a safe place if a tornado hit. He just shrugged his shoulders…”I don’t know. Maybe.” Thanks son. Thanks a lot.

Then it began. The unnecessary filling of the shopping cart. I didn’t realize what had taken place till hours later when my sweet son sorta revealed himself.

I started to nervous shop. And Kota saw it coming and didn’t even try to stop the crazy train.

We came home with Gatorade. Poptarts. Little Debbie Swiss Rolls. A value bag of 12 individual servings of Funyons.

I said yes to everything. My nerves had turned me into a weak and back-boneless little mom shopper. And before I knew it I was home in my kitchen unloading bags of heart-attacks and diabetes. Oh, and a bag of cellulite for me…It’s Oreos 100th Birthday.

But that bag doesn’t matter! What matters is this…Do tornados cause me to impulse shop? Do they make it impossible for me to say no? If so then Kota is gonna love tornado season and shopping with his mama.

What has Nashville turned me into. I wear scarfs when it’s warm now. I say “fixin” way more than should be accepted. I can understand people from Kentucky. I crave chicken-n-dumplings. And now I have allowed clouds in a bad mood to alter my shopping habits?

What will become of me? What’s next? Will I run up the heel in my heels? Will I start listening to country music on purpose? Will I bless everyone’s heart?

Well, even if so, I must confess…I do love me some south! This crazy region has become my home and I can not imagine being anywhere else.

Sometimes the best place to be can still have uncertainty and levels of discomfort. It keeps us on our toes and from becoming complacent. And I think I’ll be on my toes a lot more now.

Tell me – What’s the craziest thing about where you live? What do you love/dislike about it?

 

 

 

Holding Irony In My Hands

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Having set a personal goal this week to write a post each day, I have been pondering much over the content I’d like to share. And I have figured out tonight’s post. Though I am sharing this post it truly is more for me than for you.

Yesterday I decided to admit that I am good at something. That post was for me. And it was very therapeutic.

Tonight’s post kinda took me by surprise. It has strange irony written all through it. And I’ve decided to be okay with it.

I stated yesterday that my strength is being a mom. Raising my kids. And that I love any opportunity to offer advice to other parents.

I have a genuine concern for women who become mom’s with having an abortion in their past. I wonder if ministering to them, or counseling/guiding, is in my future. Then I think…That’s absurd! How can I toss two little lives away so flippantly then stand on a “I’m a great mom and you should listen to me.” platform?

Well, I can because I’ve been there. I’ve lived it. I can not tell you how to build a Sky-Scraper because I am not an architect. I can not advise you in what tax credits to take because I am not a CPA. But I can walk you through the pain of having made some of the worst decisions in life. I can help you navigate through your guilt to find where your strength has been hiding. I can because I have walked it too.

My story, my part of history, began the second I was conceived. But my platform began the day I was abused as a child and broadened the day I took the life of one.

So where’s the irony? It is in my past and present marrying one another building my platform. It is the picture of in one hand there holds a scared little girl turned selfish young lady snuffing out babies lives and in the other hand a woman reconciling herself to that choosing to recover, forgive and rebuild. These hands have gripped each other having finally chosen to work together. Hand in hand they are penning a new story. Hopefully extending hope to anyone who needs it.

I hope to become a speaker some day. This is the first time I have ever communicated that. But ever since I was a little girl I saw myself speaking to crowds. It has been a vision in the back of my mind and the front of my heart my whole life. I think I finally know why now…

 

I’m Good At Something!

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It’s okay to admit when you know you do something well, right? I mean, is it really arrogant? Prideful? Perhaps those are simply results of the delivery of such knowledge.

Hmmm…

At any rate – this afternoon I hung out with my kids. Uninterrupted, just the three of us. We ate together. We drove around together. We ran errands together. We watched TV together.

We were together.

And in our time together we had some deep conversation and not so deep chat. And, of course, we laughed. A lot. It seems it’s what we Hodge’s do best.

It was today that I decided I would confess what I’ve known in my heart for quite some time…

I’m a pretty darn good mom.

There. I said it.

I know, I know. Let others tell you you’re good at something. And they have. But I’ve never admitted it.

Think me arrogant or conceited but the proof is in the kiddos goshdarnit ;) I mean, seriously I am so proud of Kass and Kota. I love that I enjoy being with them and they enjoy being with me.

And believe me when I say this – While I was still grieving and beating myself up after my abortions I didn’t think I’d ever be a mom. I wanted to but figured I would be punished for my choices and not be able to have children. And if being a mom actually was going to be in my future I knew for certain I would be terrible at it. These thoughts were driven by guilt and fear, of course.

But I’ve been a mom now for almost 18 years. And today I decided I would admit that I have done a good job.

Perfect? Not a chance. The best I know how? Absolutely.

I’m a good mom. And it feels good to say it out loud. No shame.

It feels good to know you do something well. And it’s okay to admit it. Flaunt it? Nope. Share it? Yes!

I have a few other strengths but this strength I am genuinely happy about. And I want to share it. I want to be here for advice, or a sounding board, for other parents.

Personally, I love learning from other peoples strengths. It inspires me and encourages me to grow and take risks.

Being a good mom is something, I believe, I do well. So, yay. And, yes, they have a pretty awesome dad, too.

Would you find it difficult to confess, in writing here, something you know you do well? Can you do it without feeling weird or fearful of what other people may think of your declaration?

Would you be willing to share it?

I won’t judge you and either will anyone else here. So, knock yourself out and reveal something that maybe another may need to see or know about you and learn from.

Go ahead!

 

And I’m Freeeee…Free Writing…

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I am striving to find my love for writing again.

Correction – I am searching for the part of my brain that once housed the ability to convey a witty, sometimes intelligent or meaningful thought that surpassed 140 characters.

In other words – I’ve forgotten how to tell a story. Or, I’ve lost my touch. I have grown so accustomed to saying, nearly, everything I want to say in 140 characters or less that I have lost my individual art of painting 500 words on this blog in a way that captures you, my friends.

So, I’ve given myself a goal for this week. Just this week. We’ll see what happens after that.

I will free write each day till Friday. I will write about something that takes place each day this week. Be it a thought, an interaction with a friend or stranger, my coffee, my overflowing toilet upstairs…anything. I’m not a fan of very long posts but I do want to hit at least 400 words per entry. Small beans.

Yes, this is a ridiculously simple goal, I know. But if you scroll through some of my most recent posts while, also, noticing how seldom I write these days then this will make more sense.

So here we go. I’ve no idea what this week will look like here but I’ve a feeling it will offer a glimpse into my wacky brain and how it processes life. You may need therapy by the end.

Much love to you!

You Will Leave A Mark

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The following is an excerpt from one of my book chapters.

[The setting: I am 3 years old trying to get my parents to give me a drink of water]

Knock. Knock.

The door remained closed. My father continued to scream. I made another fist and knocked a second time, a bit louder, less afraid and more determined for that drink.

Suddenly I heard a loud crashing noise. I called for my mom as my father swung open the door. He just stood there, no words, blood dripping from his fist that he had slammed into the very door I stood on the other side of knocking on. I looked down at my own fist. Oh, how different his and mine looked from each other’s.

We locked eyes as he screamed to my mother, “See what you made me do!” I froze. Speechless. Nothing. What did I want again? Why had I knocked?

From that moment on I learned to second guess every feeling I ever had. Every want, desire, thought, question, idea, hope…everything. I just knew that if I shared it that it would cause a problem in one way or another.

Parents, Mentors, Guardians, Leaders… What you do matters. Everything you do matters. And everything we do and say leaves a lasting mark on someone. Good or bad…it will leave a mark. Please, be mindful of this.

Ruined By Praise

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The trouble with most of us is that we would rather be ruined by praise than saved by criticism. ~Norman Vincent Peale

 

I couldn’t agree with this quote more. I especially believe this to be true right now. With social media booming like it is and us all with our “followers” – I’m afraid it has given us a false sense of superiority and over-importance.

We share updates that encourage a praise worthy response. We seem to only display our best. Rarely our mistakes.

We love praise. We love attention that strokes our ego.

Who doesn’t? I know I do. And I’m guilty of this as much as anyone else.

But we do not like is criticism.

I do not believe that all criticism is bad. I believe a healthy critique is just that…healthy. Often times a good critique fails in the delivery. But it can also fail in the receiving.

A couple weeks ago a close friend and I talked on the phone. It had been a very long time since we had chatted. It started out as small talk, lots of catch-up and a little laughter. Then, she got to the point. And she got to it good. She did not mince words. She laid out her feelings, opinions and heart. And while it stung at first, and I immediately wanted to defend myself, I knew she was right.

It didn’t feel good initially. But just because criticism is uncomfortable it does not mean that all criticism is wrong.

I owned it. I apologized. We moved on.

I believe we are both better for it. And I am grateful for friends who are willing to say the tough stuff to me. I pray I will always be open and willing to receive it and that I will be bold enough, and gracious enough, to be honest with the people around me.

Don’t you think we do each other a disservice by not being honest? It may hurt, yes…but it also may be the one thing to grow us.

When’s the last time you’ve been on either side of healthy criticism? Did you receive it well? Did you deliver it well? Would you change anything?

Do you think that our current society strokes ego’s a bit too much, making it harder for people to accept criticism?

[This post is about healthy critique...not harsh judgment.]

 

Solace

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Oh, you mean you didn’t know I was the Chairwoman on the board of one of the most amazing NPO’s around?

Solace

Let me paint a picture for you…

You’re walking through the streets of downtown San Francisco. You pass by a strip club. A worker comes out and walks down the same street along side of you. What do you do? What do you think? What were your thoughts when you were passing the club?

I know for most of us we think, “Sick. How can people do that?!”

I used to be one of them. Now, having been in those clubs with Solace, I have fallen in love with each and every one of these people. They’re people just like me.

What Solace does is meet them where they are…every week with club visits. Solace’s heart is to encourage, empower and enlighten. And they do that by being real, loving, compassionate and accepting.

And one of the many ways these things are being cultivated is by having Help Portrait there with Solace, in San Francisco, and our beautiful Ladies and Gentleman on Valentines Day weekend.

This is going to be a huge event just for our ladies and gents. No one will want anything from them. This is all about giving to them. Giving them a picture of hope. Both figuratively and literally.

Please visit Solace and get to know more about why I am so in love and on board with them. And please pray for them and Help Portrait and all the volunteers that will make Valentines weekend, hopefully, a life changing event for many!

And please consider praying along with us for all that will be touched by this event.