I Only Have One Answer.

Last week a pal of mind wondered, "How can anyone believe that Jerry Falwell is in Heaven and Gandhi is in hell?"

It's an interesting question, and one that could potentially spark a calm, rational conversation between people of varying beliefs. Or ignite the flames of passionate opinions and, probably, religious diatribe.

My reply to this friend was, "I don't know much about Gandhi, but I did know Dr. Falwell personally, and I know he's in Heaven."

I know this because I know what Dr. Falwell believed. I know in Whom Dr. Falwell believed. Because I believe the same.

Me, Beckie, and Kelley--on our alma mater's seal, 2003. We rule.

Now, I'm not one to write a controversial, pot stirring post. (The mere mention of Dr. Falwell's name seemingly causes people to squirm.)

It's why I don't write about health care reform.

Or being a stay-at-home mother versus a work-outside-the-home mom.

Breast fed or bottle.

Pro Life versus abortion rights.

Red states and blue states.

Gun control advocate or staunch supporter of 2nd Amendment rights.

Attachment parenting or Ferberizing.

Coke or Diet Coke.

Hank Williams Sr. versus Hank, Jr.

Natural nails or acrylic tips.

Target and Wal-Mart.

SPF 45 versus the tanning bed.

Lost or...well...any other television program out there.

Ahem.

The truth of the matter is I know very little about Gandhi. So I'm not one to pronounce that he is "in hell." Oh sure, I'm aware of those in our world who are filled with a piousness to rival the Pope's. Those super holy types who love nothing better than to sit around all day, pointing fingers, placing blame, and declaring, "Well if anyone's in hell, it's _______________."

Really?

Here's the deal.

My belief system is firmly rooted in God. Not God, "whomever you deem that to be," as it is politely worded in certain circles. Uh-uh. I believe in God and His Son, Jesus.

Respectfully I ask that you do not call me a Bible thumper. (The Bible I'm currently using is on my BlackBerry. Like I'd thump that modern marvel. Please.) I'm not "religious." I'm not holier-than-thou. In the same vein, I am not some intolerant, ignorant, small-minded, backwoods conservative who can't see the forest for the trees.

I don't have all the answers. And let's be honest here...I don't have many answers, period. Here's what I can attest:

"I know Whom I have believed, and am convinced that He is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him for that day."--2 Timothy 1:12

Simply stated--I know in Whom I believe and what these beliefs entail. I also know that God "has my back," and is protecting me forevermore.

Do I have strong opinions on controversial subjects? Yes. As I told my friend who pondered about Dr. Falwell and Gandhi, I do have my views. And I don't apologize for these beliefs I hold deeply within my heart, because to do so would be to go directly against my God.

Do I love and embrace those with a different set of morals, worldviews, standards, political and religious beliefs? Absolutely. Because to do so means that I'm fulfilling precisely what Jesus asked of me..."Love your neighbor as yourself." (Mark 12:31)

I'm not perfect. I've never claimed to be. My feelings are very easily hurt. My tongue has a life of its own. I whine and complain more often than I care to admit. And sometimes I cry to God, "Seriously? Are these people FOR SERIOUS? Will You do something about these people?!?"

Then He gently reminds me, "Child of mine, I love 'these people' just as much as I love you."

And that, my friends, is the only answer I have.

Just thought y'all might need to know where I'm coming from. It's not all about me. Oh, I usually try to keep it centered upon me, me, me. But it's not.

(Vulnerable, at 1 am.)

P.S. Thanks, Jordan, for sparking this conversation. You know I think so highly of you...and your intelligence...and your love of Twilight. Dude, did I just out you? xoxo

Honey, Don't Patronize Me.

Here's the preface:

-There are zero sponsors on Lulaville, as well as zero advertisements.

-I don't make a dime off my blog, nor has it ever been my intention to do so. Many of my fellow bloggy pals do earn revenue from their blogs, and for this I salute them. "Go, you!" is my mantra.

-If Lulaville has a "brand," it's certainly hard to sum up...is my brand...

*Random musings from this head full of useless information?

*I love Jason Statham more than you?

*Is there a bigger Sci-Fi lover than me?

*How is it even possible that you don't watch Lost?

*Southern belles who have tattoos and wear blue nail polish and hot pink Converse high-tops?

-I have no problem with Lulaville being viewed as a "glorified, electronic scrapbook."* Because...guess what? IT IS!

Got it? Good. Let's move on, shall we?

Two years ago I met the women whom I now consider to be my best friends and confidantes. At the age of thirty-three I found my sister soulmates. Women who, at the risk of sounding utterly and shamelessly cheesy, complete me. Women I've flown across the country to visit. Women with whom I've vacationed. Whose husbands I've met. Whose lives are entwined with mine, as we grow, live, love, laugh, cry, and celebrate the bond of friendship.

I met Heather Blair and Tiffany Romero because of blogging. I knew Heather and Tiffany before they started their wonderful site, The Secret Is In The Sauce, a community which fosters support and friendship amongst women (and a few men!) in the blogging world.

How thankful I am for SITS and the women I've met because of a simple website. Living in a small, very rural mountain town, I'm surrounded by wonderful people who are very much like me: caucasian, married, a parent, and evangelical Christian. Through SITS I have met women who are beautiful and intelligent. I'm honored to know ladies who labor at home as full-time mothers (such as myself), and women who are mothers and employed outside the home.

Because of SITS I have friends who are Evangelical Christian, Jewish, 7th Day Adventist, Mormon, Agnostic, and Atheist.

Because of SITS I have friends of all ages...single gals navigating their twenties, young mothers with new babies, women who have not yet become mothers, ladies who never plan to have children, and grandmothers who blog alongside their daughters.

Because of SITS I am friendly with Democrats. See, we all really can get along!

(I do jest...friendship is bipartisan.)

Because of SITS I am proud to be known as a "mommy blogger."

Rather than refute an article written by a New York Times author, about the recent Bloggy Boot Camp held in Baltimore by Tiffany and Heather, I choose to use this post to declare my love and support for my friends and fellow bloggers. Whether you're part of the "minivan crowd," or a mama blogger such as my friend, Fran, who happens to hold an M.B.A. (and uses this degree to be one excellent mother!), I salute you.

Regardless of whether I know you "in real life," or if we've only "met" via our blogs, I salute you.

To those of you who make a living off your blog...rock on! Have a particular brand, such as the brilliant Kathy, of Mama Kat's Losin' It, or Jill from Scary Mommy? (Two ladies I'm proud to call "friend.") Awesome!

Those of you who could care less about building a "brand" and instead use blogging as a creative outlet to celebrate your life and your loves, I applaud you.

I quote Kathy, in her post where she addressed this same subject, "We're women, and we're amazing, and we don't need a newspaper to validate us."

Precisely.

And to my family, particularly my husband and my daughters, who've supported Lulaville from its inception, I say to you..."Feel free to interrupt me at any moment...because you, my loves, are far more important to me than this blog."

But they already knew that.

*Quote from the article written by Jennifer Mendelsohn, published in the New York Times, March 12, 2010.

A Swift Kick In The Pants

Sometimes we just need to be cheered on...

Go, you!

And Since We've No Place To Go

Donning a flirty pair of sandals...

Grabbing a girly bag...

...And hopping a flight to paradise.

These people can stay buried here.

I may or may not return.

And I may or may not send a postcard.

I'll be a water nymph.

The Beginning of The End.

Today is February 2, 2010.

It is bittersweet for me.

That is all.

Eight Years.

I loved you before I knew you...

30 weeks in utereo...

Mere hours after our first meeting

I loved you so much it took my breath away...

One day old...

And 8 years later,

You still take my breath away.

Every single day.

"I'm gonna watch you shine

gonna watch you grow

Gonna paint a sign so you'll always know

As long as one and one is two

There could never be a father (and mother!)

who loves his daughter as much as I love you..."

(From Paul Simon's "Father & Daughter")

Happy 8th Birthday, Mary Elizabeth "Libbey" Litton!

Lunchable.

Last Thursday Libbey asked me (and Sissy, too!) to join her for lunch at school..."They're serving cheesy breadsticks, corn, and salad, Mommy--I don't even want to bring my lunch from home!"

How could I resist such an invitation?

Caroline and I sat at a round table with Libbey and a few of her classmates, enjoying our food, waving to all the children who called out , "Hey Libbey's Mommy!" and chatting with several of the adults also present. (A close family friend, a cousin, and a church member...yes, my child is surrounded by loved ones throughout her day at school.)

While eating, I also heard quite a few boisterous children. Noticed a couple of little girls who seemed rather withdrawn. Saw children cramming their mouths full with food...children whom I'm certain are not fed very well at home.

With ribbons festooning both her hair and blouse, a younger friend of Libbey's made a great effort to wave to me. Sitting next to her was another little girl, wearing sweatpants far too large for her petite frame, a stained, short-sleeved t-shirt, and hair that may or may not have been washed since the dawn of 2010.

I could barely choke down the remains of my meal.

To keep myself from crying, I asked Libbey and her friends about the test they had just taken, on magnets & poles. ("I made a hundred!" each child promised.)

When it came time for Libbey to return to her classroom, she hugged Caroline, hugged me, then walked off. Just as she got to the lunchroom door, she turned back and said, "Love y'all!"

Precious.

I made it to the parking lot before I fell apart. And I did fall apart...into a mess of weepy, blubbery tears.

My child attends school each day in clean clothes, with freshly a washed head and face, as well as freshly scrubbed teeth (after her belly has been filled with breakfast, of course). I pack more than enough food for her lunch each day, and when I pick her up in the afternoon she knows I'll always proclaim, "I love you!" and inquire, "Did you have a good day?"

Libbey is blessed. I remind her of this daily. Just as I remind her that no matter when or where she goes, what she becomes, or how old she grows, I will always love her. I will always take care of her. I will always be there for her.

I am blessed.

Mothers...grandmothers...aunts...godparents...lovers of children...whichever category you fall into...go hug your child today. Because we are all blessed.

And yes, I'm weepy again. When it comes to the love I have for my daughters, I am sappier than an episode of Little House on the Prairie or Dr. Quinn. (Oh, Sully...) I don't apologize for this...not even when I fall apart in the parking lot of the elementary school. It's warranted.

An Early Valentine.

Dear Love O' Mine,

I'm going public to make an announcement: I take you for granted.

You're one of the biggest parts of my life. Always faithful. Consistently meeting my needs. Ready at a moment's notice, without complaint. By my side every single day. Yet I've failed to give you the respect and admiration you've rightfully earned.

Please forgive me.

I tend to be dramatic when it comes to my obsessions loves. Make no mistake...you are my favorite. I depend upon you, I love you, I do not know what I'd do without you. From henceforth I shall properly appreciate you.

You've earned it, indeed.

Forever grateful for the past 10 years,

Lula

xoxo

It can't be wrong...when it feels so right...

'cause you...you light up my life!

Y'all know I love me some 70's Mellow Gold...
Serenade us, Debby.

Amen.

Do You Realize The Street Value Of This Mountain?

This is my life. This has been my life for the past 10 days. Seriously.

And if it's not clear...let me reiterate...DONE. OVER. SICK OF IT.

I need Starbucks in my life. Target. A good movie. A meal I didn't have to cook. ANYTHING which gets me out of this house. My sanity is dependent upon it.

Oh yes, global warming in full effect. Riiiiiiiiight. (Thanks, Cara.)

p.s. Name the movie from which I stole this post's title. Lauren, you cannot participate in this one and you know why. Nor can Cara or Heather. But I love y'all...

Better Than The Mullet, I Guess.

So...

You're starting over!

As what?

*Middle-aged Barbie?

*The "they need a token-blonde" on Jersey Shore?

*The Twilight Saga's Rosalie? (Nikki Reed, I've never loved you more than I do now.)

*A Scandinavian pop star?

*A new girlfriend for Hugh Heffner?

*Vegas showgirl?

*Prospective date for Tiger Woods?

I shouldn't criticize...who am I to judge? After all, it is better than that gross mullet she's been sporting for the past year.

But seriously? New hair is a fresh start for Kate? How's she gonna manage extensions and her eight children?

Please allow me to quote this fine gentleman:

"Lord, I apologize for that right there...

be with the starving pygmies in New Guinea.

Amen!"

Sometimes I Just Don't Get It.

Almost a billion dollars earned in revenue and people are still going to see this:

Avatar

Really?

No offense, James Cameron, but Scott and I were not impressed with the blue people. Oh yeah, Sam Worthington is rather enjoyable to look at, and the CGI was top-notch. But the storyline? Eh. The liberal propaganda? Eh. The run time of 2 hours and 42 minutes? Eh.

Whatever.

Now here's a movie which deserves to earn a billion dollars:

Up in the Air

But it won't.

Sigh...

There's nothing I didn't love about this film...the screenplay, direction, cinematography, and soundtrack were top-notch. And the acting? Oh. My. Stars. George Clooney--the last of the real deal movie stars, in my opinion*--deserves the Academy Award for his portrayal of Ryan "What's In Your Backpack?" Bingham.

Also, if you thought Anna Kendrick was just some fly-by-night young actress in the Twilight saga...well, you're wrong. Her performance in Up in the Air is simply superb.

I'm a fan of classic black and white films. Remember real movie stars, such as Cary Grant, Grace Kelly, Jeanne Crain, and Jimmy Stewart? Pure class, I tell ya.

Up in the Air employs no gimmicks...no crazy special effects...no shoot 'em up scenes, no tasteless jokes. Oh, and no blue creatures. It's merely good storytelling. And classy performances from a cast that includes honest-to-goodness real life people, as well as talented actors.

Avatar, for me, was mind-numbing. Up in the Air, however, was stimulating...a cinematic breath of fresh air. Honestly, we need more movies like it.

But that's just my opinion.

How long until Lost returns? Just seeing if y'all are paying attention--you know, to what really matters.

*

Don't wanna leave Denzel out...

he and George are, for me, the last of a dying breed.

The very definition of "movie star."

 -----------------------------

We're not going to speak of this. 
This.  
That happened last night.
Because I realize none of you watch Doctor Who.
But it happened.
The 10th Doctor has regenerated.

I love you David Tennant.
You were a brilliant, perfect Doctor.

But give me a while to get used to this Eleventh stuff.
SOMEONE PLEASE HOLD ME.
I have never cried as much during a TV show.
HOW WILL I EVER MAKE IT THROUGH LOST'S ENDING?

No Expiration Date.

A few weeks ago Time magazine's cover declared 2000-2009 "The Worst Decade Ever!" Really? Sorry, Time, but this decade was pretty darn special for me. I married my soulmate, became mother to the two most beautiful children on the face of the planet, grew to love my Jesus even more, made wonderful new friends, rekindled old friendships, and nurtured relationships with ladies I've known most of my 35 years.

See? Special. Indeed.

The tunes of these most recent 10 years were pretty hard rockin', as well. There's no way I could list all of my favorite musical offerings of the past 3,650 days...but I will highlight 10* of them. For your listening pleasure. Because I'm cool like that. And because music is my thing, of course.

"Lovestoned/I Think She Knows," by Justin Timberlake

2006

It makes me dance. It's also Tiffany's ringtone. 'Nuff said.

As my husband relates,

"If you say you don't like JT, you're a LIAR!"

Word.

"Set the Fire to the Third Bar," by Snow Patrol & Martha Wainwright

2006

Utterly & completely romantic.

"Your words in my memory, are like music to me..."

"Roslyn," by Bon Iver & St. Vincent

2009

My favorite song of this past year...

...brilliantly written, performed, & produced.

It's ethereal.

"My Party," by Kings of Leon

2007

I've loved these guys for years, long before they were uber famous.

It's just good, real, raw rock & roll. Plain and simple.

"Hysteria," by Muse

2003

From one of my favorite bands comes one of my favorite songs.

It's edgy and glamorous, passionate and pleading...

everything I love in angsty rock!

"I want you now...I want you now...I feel my heart implode..."

"Run, " George Strait

2001

There's a reason this is the ringtone for my husband...

"...straight in a straight line, you can't get here fast enough."

"I Am Trying To Break Your Heart," by Wilco

2002

Sigh...a song that tells a story...and a heartbreaking one, at that.

Genius, Jeff Tweedy. I applaud you.

"Love, Where Is Your Fire," by Brooke Fraser

2008 (the Live at the Aotea version is my favorite)

The sound of my soul...the desire of my heart...the words of this song.

"Till the time when You come and I'm whole and we are one,

and the fire in me is complete..."

"Ghost In This House," by Alison Krauss & Union Station

2002

It's hauntingly beautiful, and I'm certain Alison's voice

is how angels sound.

"Reckoner," by Radiohead

2007

Never before have the tambourine & cymbals made their presence known

so eloquently in a song.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I've played this song

over 500 times in the past two years.

"Because we separate...it ripples our reflections..."

"Teenage Dirtbag," by Wheatus

2000

*Yes, this makes song #11. But it's a story song--and, as previously mentioned, I love story songs. Plus this one was released when I was a newlywed and I'd drive around Spartanburg, South Carolina, singing it at the top of my lungs. Oh, the memories. Good times.

Honorable mentions:

--"Bounce," by Timbaland, Justin Timberlake, Dr. Dre, and Missy Elliott

Yes, it's dirrty, but it's my jam of the decade, with the best hook ever.

--"Mad World," by Gary Jules.

His cover of Tears for Fears' original is sublime. Still listen to it almost daily.

--"Sweet Sacrifice," by Evanescence

Because when I grow up, I want to sing like (and look like!) Amy Lee.

"It's true...we're all a little insane..."

"Winter White Hymnal," by Fleet Foxes

They're like the 2nd coming of Simon & Garfunkel. Love this band.

--"Say Please," by Monsters of Folk

My 2nd most favorite song of 2009.

Now I wanna know...what songs/albums/artists have you enjoyed this decade? Please share!