Pocket-Posting

I have heard of pocket-dialing, but never before knew I could “pocket-post” a Letter to you!  That’s what happened yesterday.

Maybe you got an email in your in-box yesterday (if you are an “Email me!” subscriber) and it said, “Letters to Lindsey {New Post 4149}.”  Then you hurried to opened it, excitedly awaiting what brilliant words could be in that Letter. Would it be just for you? Would it make you laugh? Cry? How will this Letter, “vent, challenge, or simply entertain, but always leave the reader and the writer changed”?

You slid the knife in the envelope (clicked to open the email) and the body of the email mysteriously said, “Terri posted: ‘maps.apple.com’.”

“What’s the secret?” you thought. 

“What keen insight is she leading me into?”

“What is this strange code ‘maps.apple.com’?”

“Is she inviting me to her house for coffee?”

“Is this really her location?”

“Has she been kidnapped and is sharing her location with thousands of subscribers, just hoping that we will search and find her?”

“Is it a clue – somehow ways to parent or how to love a husband?”

“Wait! Is my link different than everyone else’s? Am I the ONLY one who got this glitch and everyone else got some fun blog post, but all I got was an ad for Apple Maps?”

“WHAT IS THIS POST?!!!”

But the truth of the matter is:

I was just as surprised as you when I received an email to myself saying that “I” had posted a blog!

WHAT?!!!!!!

So, here’s the story….

Chris and I were kayaking in the rain on the intracoastal of North Carolina. We enjoyed the slight drizzle and clouds that blocked the heat. Wind was gone, making for an (almost) effortless, peaceful ride. We had checked out the inlet between the islands and were making our way back to our summer home in Sunset Beach, using the incoming tide for a welcomed boost to our paddling. More than an hour into our trip, we decided to use my phone to navigate and thereby avoid a dead-end in the grass-bordered trails of water beyond which we could not see.   

map of water trails in the intracoastal

I set my phone down on my kayak and hoped its water-sealing was true to its hype. I glanced down ever-so-often to be sure our blue dot was heading in the direction of open water of the intracoastal. Once we recognized where we were, I put my phone back into my pocket.

That’s all I did.  Cross my heart! 

Upon arrival at our dock I received an email that “Terri” had posted a blog. I had evidently taken multi-tasking to a whole new level! Somehow, I had accomplished a bewildering amount of steps with only the movements of kayaking for inputs:

  •  I changed my location-sharing in settings, 
  • opened WordPress, 
  • clicked “write,” 
  • clicked copy location on the already-open Apple Maps, 
  • clicked paste? 
  • Clicked “publish,” which automatically emailed you and posted the link on Twitter, LinkedIn and LettersToLindsey Facebook page 

and voila! I had sent my location in North Carolina to people all over the world who were, most likely, not wondering at that moment where I happened to be or what I was doing.  

So what is the purpose of this Letter to Lindsey today?

  • Maybe to remind us of the power of the internet beyond our intentions? (I highly recommend the documentary, Social Dilemma.) 
  • Maybe to remind us to live a Godly life so that if it accidentally gets published to the world, it wouldn’t raise eyebrows?
  • Maybe to remind us to be a playmate to our spouse? (Chris and I started marriage as playmates – and do our best to keep that alive. Yesterday, it was in kayaks.)
  • Or maybe this Letter is just for fun, because sometimes it’s fun just to laugh at ME!

I laughed when I realized I had “pocket-posted”!

I laughed that within an hour I received a teasing email from my husband stating, “Great stuff over at Letters to Lindsey,” attaching his forwarded email from my blog, as if he were promoting it.

I laughed that WordPress sent me a notification shortly after, “Your stats are booming!” as if even WP was making fun of my day!

So, dear friend, I am sorry if I wasted your time clicking over here yesterday to see my “new post,” that was not a post. I guess I have officially stepped into grandparenthood, doing something like this – like when my mother accidentally posted on Facebook that she had picked a tattoo for every one of her friends. When I questioned her, she said, “I did what?!”

One comedian quipped, “My pocket has called so many people, I am thinking of getting it a phone of its own!” Maybe my pocket needs its own WordPress account.

But, I am glad my pocket posted, because it made me think of YOU.

And now I know it’s possible to tell the world where I am, in case I am ever kidnapped.

May your day be blessed, and worthy of broadcast,

Terri

PS. Here are some kayak-trip PHOTOS that my pocket must have forgotten to post:

Pelicans lined up to watch the exciting kayaks.

A mama egret and her babies

Me and my bae:)

The ocean view between the islands.

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Chin Ups (Via Humorous Teens)

Dear Lindsey,

As heavy as life can get, I love it when a lighter side keeps my chin up.

While Christine and I were away visiting Mom in a Colorado hospital following her stroke, and Chris was speaking at Life Leadership’s Summer Convention in Wisconsin, the three boys were left at home to their own devices. (“devices” ha! I guess I could intend that pun, since their humor used their phones 🙂 )

Since the older two have a schedule of soccer workouts and work, I decided to have a nanny stay the nights, but she kept her job working days elsewhere.  She was sweet enough to text the boys (age 18 and 15) during the day to be sure everything was ok. (She probably was making sure they were taking care of JR (age 10)  too!)

Here is how the exchange went. {For those of you who are not familiar with this phone screen, the “GROUP” is Casey (age 18), Nate (age 15), and Lydia (the nanny), so they can all see each other’s replies, even though none are in the same location. This is Casey’s phone screen, so his words are the ones in BLUE.}

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I am grateful they have a sense of humor, and especially grateful Lydia does too!

In fun,

Terri

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What am I, Stupid?

Dear Lindsey,

Sometimes reality is just…real. And it makes me

LAUGH OUT LOUD

so I have to share!!

I received an email from someone I had never received an email from before. Though I consider her a friend, I only know her from playing bells in a handbell choir at church a couple times a year. I am not a member of the handbell choir, but I substitute when someone is missing.

The wording of her email shocked me. This is what it said:

To: Sarah Summers & Stupid

From: Ellen

_____________________________

Hello ladies!!!  

Wanted to see if both of you could sub next week for handbells (Tuesday 6-7:30) – Emily and I will both be out (top 2 positions). Just let me know!!

Thanks!!!

Ellen

Sent from my iPhone

 

When I looked at the “addressee” line, I was a little surprised. My thought process went like this:

  • It says it is to “Sarah Summers and Stupid”
  • I received it.
  • I am not Sarah Summers.
  • HEY!!!! Why is she calling me STUPID?!!!

I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt; surely she’s my friend! She plays in the handbell choir at church; that’s not your typical gathering place of the evil-ladies-calling-people-stupid.

There must be a joke I am forgetting…some “Vine” I missed? I remembered she and I have laughed about a lot – I am sure we laughed about ME…it’s easy to do! But stupid? Why am I stupid?

But I could tell it was going to eat at me. I had to know. I am not the kind to go talk to someone else and see what they think of her potential rudeness…or pass the email around and get other people to be mad. I decided to confront, seeking first to understand. So I shot an email back to her, asking her if my name was “Stupid” in her contacts.

 

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As soon as I sent that email, a flashback of a phone-joke my oldest son did to me popped into my head. He had made shortcut keys for all of the common words I use: “the, an, hi, and, how, you,” etc., so that any time I typed one of those words on my phone, it automatically changed it to say, “blooyah!” I finally had cried “UNCLE!” and made him fix it when I incidentally sent a text to a friend after the loss of a loved one, and my text said, “God bless blooyah.” UGH.

So I wondered if somehow my kids had made “stupid” something on my phone, not her contacts.

I searched my phone for the term, “Stupid,” and up popped “Terri Brady”.

So I asked Siri: “What is my name?”

And she obediently replied in her serious tone, “You’re Terri Brady, but since we are friends, I get to call you Stupid.”

I started to laugh.

I asked my phone again, “Who am I?”

The phone replied, “You’re Terri Brady, but since we are friends, I get to call you Stupid.”

I looked on my phone for my own name to see how that worked, and clearly one of my kids had picked up my unattended phone and made a change to my contact.

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Oh boy was Ellen going to be confused when she got that email I had just sent her asking her if my name was “Stupid” in her contacts!!!!!

I quickly sent her another email attempting to explain my children’s humor and asking for forgiveness.

I let her know that I would be happy to sub for a friend like her!

Still loving to laugh,

Terri

P.S. Looks like my kids changed my contact again.

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For Fun: The Guy Version of The Stranger’s Sketch

Dear Lindsey,

Did you see my post yesterday? You will not understand today’s post unless you saw yesterday’s so I encourage you to read it first here: The Stranger’s Sketch.

And then have fun analyzing the humor in someone’s parody of the same video “from a guy’s perspective” here:

The funny part of the video (the fact that some people see themselves as,… well, uh, perfect) does not have to be gender specific to men. (Although, the video-maker entitled it “guy’s perspective.”) There are different versions of self-portraits in both genders.

The overall point remains the same: it is not self-esteem, but God-esteem that matters in the bigger picture called life.

Related Posts (haha):

In fun,

Terri Brady

TTFish

Tumor Humor, Out of My Mind (with a Brain Tumor) Part IV

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Dear Lindsey,

After a week of letters (I, II and III) of my brain surgery story’s drama, I have to tell you how

Laugh

much laughing Chris and I did before, during and especially after the surgery was successful. If you are in the middle of a health battle, I hope humor can help take weight off. I never mean to offend.

God knew we needed a laugh to ease the nerves as I checked into the hospital on October 14. After fasting 15 hours, driving 2 to the hospital, going through the extensive check-in process, having IV’s started, and then sitting for hours waiting for the arterial scope the day before brain surgery was a good time for some distraction! Chris and I began going through text messages on our phones that we had not had time to read the week before. Many of them had scriptural references, so I had a Bible ready to look up the verses, while Chris read both of our phones.

A friend texted: Psalms 71:21. So I looked it up: “You shall increase my greatness and comfort me on every side.”

Another was Romans 15:13, “Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

We continued, one after another, until one stopped me in my tracks: Our Florida pastor, Tom Ascol, had sent Chris a text referring to Romans 8:32, so I anxiously read the verse from my Bible,

“… He was led as a sheep to the slaughter, and like a lamb dumb before his shearer, so opened he not his mouth.”

What?! I read it again silently.

“… He was led as a sheep to the slaughter, and like a lamb dumb before his shearer, so opened he not his mouth.”

A lamb to a shearer? Right before they shave part of my head? A sheep to slaughter? Before brain surgery? Why would Tom send such a note today? I don’t think that’s a funny joke. Tom has a fantastic sense of humor, but his timing is really off on this one; there must be a mistake.

“What was that reference again?” I asked, hoping Chris had read the reference wrong or something.

“8:32,” Chris said.

Yep, that’s where I was and I couldn’t believe it was true.

“Romans?” Chris asked, hoping he was getting his friend Tom out of hot water.

OHHHHH I thankfully realized that I was in the wrong book: I was reading Acts 8:32.

(I laugh now when I see that I pridefully assigned blame everywhere but myself. I laugh harder to think I would EVER have thought Pastor Tom would have texted such a verse. ha!)

We went on to read Romans 8:32, “ He that spared not His own Son but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?”

Much better.

We called the Ascols in Florida right then from the hospital bed to share the story. We laughed and praised God for the humor to relieve the stress.

In previous letters, I alluded to some of the lingo we used on purpose during this time. It’s more fun to laugh than cry, and these colloquialisms have different meanings for brain surgery patients:

– I gave the doctors a piece of my mind.

– I am no longer in my right mind.

– I am a little out of my mind.

– They had to take a piece of my brain, so I would be back on level with my husband.

– I need to have my head examined.

– I thought something was wrong, but it was all in my head.

– I needed to have the head surgeon present. (from Part II)

– This brings the urgency of life to a head (from Part III – did you catch it?)

– I think I have a screw loose. (My skull was “put back together” with titanium screws.)

– And my friend, Jen, just texted, “Your blog will really help some people, but don’t let that ‘go to your head’.” Love!

Thank You

Although I know this letter is titled “Humor with the Tumor,” I have to get a little more serious for an acknowledgement section:

There were many heroes and heroines in this story, and I wanted to take some time for acknowledging them. I did not even know the definition of the word, “serve,” until God put these people in my life. I recognize that they did not do it for me, but to serve the Lord; I was blessed by them, anyway.

I must begin by saying that if friendship is like a bank account – and love is the currency of deposits (and unfortunately withdrawals)– then the year previous to the surgery, I had bankrupted all of my friends. In my survival mode, I felt like I had nothing left to give, and had even inadvertently offended many friends by not returning calls or asking them to pick up my slack, without explaining why. I am indebted to these heroines, since they loved me anyway, and served as only Jesus could. Of course, I can’t name everyone – especially the number of strangers who visited the surgery-update blog, or sent prayers and cards that began with, “You don’t know me, but…” and took time to encourage. What a blessing they were!

First, thank you to my hero and husband, Chris. My loving knight in shining armor read the recount in these Letters to Lindsey last week and had a whirlwind of emotions again. He regretted that he didn’t do more during the year of pain, but I don’t know what more he could have done. He took over chores and diminished expectations, knowing I was going down. I think maybe God was teaching me to swim, and restricted use of lifejackets – even from my husband. His love for me then and now is irreplaceable. I kept saying his job was much harder than my own in the hospital bed – all I had to do was go to sleep.

Thank you to my brother, Tim, who traveled from Colorado to be with Chris during the surgery days. All three of my brothers returned my calls within minutes when I left them voicemail. That love cannot be duplicated.

My friend, Anna Huber taught not just me, but all of the other heroines in the story just what the word, “serve” means. Since 2008, I have often been in a position when I didn’t know what to do to help someone and I thought, “What would Anna do?!” However, many of the other ladies listed here have told me that they now ask the same question – after having experience working with Anna! She sent me cards every day leading up to the surgery, organized food for those staying in the hotel near the hospital, arranged rides for my kids for weeks after the surgery, arranged food to come to my house in the boondocks for weeks after surgery, and at one point when I texted and asked her if someone was coming to get one of the kids, she replied, “You are not supposed to be thinking! Let me do that!” Anna and her husband Mark drove the four hour round trip and visited with Chris during my less conscious moments.

My great friend and confidante, Tracey Avereyn sent me countless scriptures via text. She was the shoulder on which I could cry. She updated the blog when I was unable. In the weeks after surgery, when I required 24 hour care, she stayed with me more than her share of shifts, and made extra meals without milk and beef to be sure my son could eat as well. Of course the 6lb jar of peanutbutter delivered to my hotel room in Louisville was a favorite love note from her.

Thanks to Laurie Woodward for practically begging me to get the second MRI. How God used her! Woodwards sent flowers to Christine for her 5th birthday, a thoughtful gift the day before my admission. Laurie also flew to Michigan from Florida for a surprise visit seven days post-op. She and I could hardly visit, because the kids kept saying, “Can I play with Mrs. Woodward now?”

Nancy Jones was an immeasurable friend. Her physical therapist background combined with a caring heart provided for incredible help in my time of need. She voluntarily made the trip to the distant hospital, and massaged my horrendously sore neck (the muscles had much involvement in the surgery). On her birthday, (which I forgot in my ill condition), she helped Chris bring me into the house from the hospital discharge. She insisted on staying with me for “a shift” of nursing a week or two later, just to make sure I was really doing as well as she had heard.

Susie Hallstrand was incredible. From many phone calls before, advice on local hospitals, to voluntarily staying with me in ICU (which was a huge fear for me), her nursing background was the cherry on top of our friendship. Her faith was unwavering and a great stronghold for me. Her selflessness in keeping one of my children for the week – the one with food allergies no less – as well as making the four-hour round trip to the hospital is a quality I hope to emulate.

Shirley Barker was used by God when she “randomly” texted a friend to see if I needed muscular help, since she had a cancellation in her massage therapy schedule. She drove from Indiana to use her gifted hands on my neck muscles and really shot the starting gun for my road to recovery.

Friends and business partners, Bob and Nancy Frazzini, approached me at a meeting and asked if they could can my garden – a task that had clearly left my list of things to do that fall. It was so sweet of them to 1.) remember I had a garden and 2.) offer the service I would never have thought to ask. Every soup I had that winter reminded me of the Frazzinis’ gift and I asked myself the question, “How can I serve people like that?”

Wow. This list gets so long, but I am SO grateful to all!

Thank you, God, for sending my in-laws, Jim and Gayle Brady. One memory I have from the hospital was Chris’s mom in a heated discussion with the hospital staff. I was barely conscious to hear, “This woman has given birth four times! If she says she’s in pain, SHE’S IN PAIN!!! NOW!” She has taught me a lot about having an advocate to stand up for you in a hospital setting – especially if you will be unconscious. Being a retired hospital nurse herself, she knows how busy the setting can be for hospital staff and that it doesn’t hurt to have another eye on the situation.

Thank you to people who made the long drive to visit us in the hospital: Eric and Lori Stewart, Norm Walworth, Pastor and Mary Dickie, Chris’s brother, Pat and Jenny Brady, his parents and Mark and Anna Huber, who stayed all night with Chris.

Thanks to Tim and Amy Marks who sent food to feed the entire waiting room, probably for a year. 🙂

My parents, Ron and Sue Estes, came 1300 miles and stayed with me for three weeks, about two weeks post-op, to help me ease my way back into motherhood, which took time. It was helpful having parents who would let me do some things, and then also let me crash for lots of napping. My dad and I had some special walks outside, arm in arm, on the driveway in the cold fall air to ease my cabin fever.

Who can you trust to take your kids from you when you are having serious surgery – knowing that if things don’t go well, they will be the only buffer between your kids and the news? Four families volunteered – one for each child. What a blessing! Thanks to John and Tammy Sonnenberg, Rob and Susie Hallstrand, Doug and Tiffany Huber and Don and Chris Freeze.

Girlfriends stayed with me for eight-hour shifts, 24 hours-a-day for the first 10 days. Apparently this was needed due to my short hospital stay, and my risk for falling. At one point JR (who was 3) told me he would help me walk so I wouldn’t fall. So precious! But God sent other angels to keep me upright: Jackie Lewis, Cassie Birtles, Marsie VanBuskirk, Mallory Purdy, Tracie Clouse, Beth Morgan, Heidi Smith (who pulled an all-nighter when I was having pain-control issues, despite the fact she was working the next day), Tina Jacklyn, Meredith Cordes, and Corrie Jones – in addition to the others already mentioned. These ladies really saw me at my worst – after their love tanks were probably emptied by me the previous year – and they loved me anyway. What true friends and gifts from Above. May they hear, “Well done, thy good and faithful servant!” one day.

I know I have missed someone – but please know your reward is in heaven! I am so grateful that God allowed you to help in such a time of need.

Ladies groups made quilts and crocheted blankets, praying at the corner stitches. These afghans still reside in my house as a reminder of my leper experience. Thank you!

Val Brimsmade sent a note I still remember, and it often brings myself to right thinking. She said, “We are commanded, not requested, but commanded in Joshua 1:9 to be strong and courageous in His name.” I believe Martin Lloyd Jones says that we are abusing the gospel if we do not approach the crossing into eternity with JOY.

Thank you to the pharmacy and hospital staff: nurses Sarah, Wendy, Michael, Robin, Heather, Jackie, Keyonna and hospital executive VP, Patti who was so kind to the family.

Thank you

Thank you to people who brought or sent food and or gifts:

  • Randy and Rusti Spence – Thanks for reminding me to dance in the rain!
  • Kelly Johnson – The homemade card shower that lasted for months after surgery! (and still does today!)
  • Brenda Overman
  • Paul and Lois Nobels
  • Sarah Kingsbury
  • Mary Ann Markel
  • Sheri Stroh
  • Jen Golden
  • Ed and Lynette Zentner
  • Billy and Peggy Florence
  • Val Taylor
  • Dallin and Karree Larsen
  • Hugh and Karin Pobur
  • Brigg and Lita Hart
  • Guzzardo Team
  • Jerry and Sherry Daniels
  • Dave and Claudia Walker
  • Manase and Lisa Fotu
  • DarkAngelos
  • Manteises
  • Gertslers
  • Rhodes
  • McGlinchys
  • Nancy Deats
  • Holger and Lindsey Spiewak
  • Mike and Vi Gowen
  • Jamie and Lisa Cirello
  • Dave and Tracy McDade
  • Charlie and Polly Ballmer
  • and so many more that did not get written in Chris’s notebook during the surgery dates.

As I look back to the “leprosy” days, (referring to Luke 17 where Jesus healed ten lepers, and one came back to say thank you), I really believe that to truly say, “thank you,” to the Lord, we must also say, “thank you,” to the people He sent.

Summary

In summary, let me recall a poem I wrote years ago regarding the Luke 17 story:

THANKS AGAIN

Ten lepers were healed

By Christ’s words that day.

He said, “You are new,”

And sent them away.

They danced and they sang

With their limbs now anew.

Showed friends their new health

And all they could do

One returned thanks,

The others took for granted;

But Jesus gave freely

His gifts not recanted.

Lord, help me to be

The one of the ten

Who thinks to come back

and say, “thank you,” again.

-Terri Brady

May God bless you with much, and may you bless Him with thanks.

– Terri

Dampened Impressions, Toddler Style

Dear Lindsey,

Company is coming!!! The holidays begin! Candy still lingers in my kitchen and I can’t believe it’s already the next holiday!

My preparations today remind me of a day a couple years ago:

I have had their last name for almost two decades, but trying to make a good impression on my in-laws is still one of my strong desires. I want to make sure they know I am the perfect wife for their perfect son :).  They encourage me and tell me nice things all the time, but as a daughter-in-law, I always want to do more for them.

Case in point:

The oven had been hot, preparing the holiday goodies all day. The laundry room was equally hot, as I tried to get all of the tasks done before their arrival. I wiped counters and awaited their text: they could be here any minute. All the checkmarks were in the box! …if that last load of laundry could get put away.

“GPS says we’ll be there in 10,” the text arrived!

I worked to mop that floor one last time, and hopefully put on makeup as if I always look “done-up” for their son…but that one last load of laundry was still in the back of my mind. Oh, how I wish I could clone myself for times like this! Wait?! Isn’t that why I had kids? (smile)

“J.R.?” I yelled up the stairs to see if the last remaining unworking child was within earshot.

“What, Mom?” the 5-yr-old yelled back down.

“Grammy and Papa will be here in 10 minutes. The dryer has your clothes in it. Could you please fold those and put them away?”

“10 minutes?!!! Yaaayyy!! Sure! I’ll put my clothes away!”

A tinge of guilt crossed my mind. Is that a lot to ask of a 5-yr-old? He’s folded clothes beside me many times before. The dryer happened to only have his clothes in it, so he would know where it all went, right? They don’t have to be folded perfectly; they only need to disappear into his drawers, right? Perfect! I have time to get myself ready! I raced upstairs to the master bath.

“They’re here!!” the screams began from each of the four children. No question that the white van from Michigan had pulled into the driveway.

Phew, the floor dried in time! I thought as I descended the stairs to the clean kitchen greeting Grammy and Papa. Chris came out of his office; the holiday had begun!

Later that evening, as is tradition (and such a great break for me!!) Grammy and Papa headed up the stairs to help the kids to bed. The kids anxiously picked out their favorite books and brushed teeth, while looking forward to their “scratch-backing” time while Grammy and Papa read books. That’s when Grammy yelled down:

“Terri? Do you have a leak somewhere?”

A leak? You’re kidding me!

I raced upstairs to find that she was baffled why all of J.R.’s pajamas in the dresser were WET.

As I inspected the situation, I found that not only were the PJ’s wet, but so were all of the underwear, pants and shirts…that he had put away from the dryer.

“J.R., was the dryer off when you took the things out to put them away?”

“No. You didn’t say they had to be dry.”

Enjoy your Thanksgiving! Be thankful you have clothes…even if they are wet.

God bless,

Terri Brady

Cat Aversion

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Dear Lindsey,

Some time near my son’s first birthday, he had a deadly allergic reaction to his first taste of milk. Welts decorated the quickly swelling skin, changing the proportions of his facial Continue reading