Living in a (Housing) Bubble

I don’t know much about real estate, but I know things have gotten out of control in South Florida. And if I believe what I’ve heard on TV or read online, we’re not the only part of the country in that predicament. But I can’t be sure, down here it is really easy to get egocentric and think that there are only two parts of the world – Miami and Not-Miami.

Despite my ignorance about real estate in general, I know that a Housing Bubble is where prices become artificially inflated. Eventually that bubble will get too big because the houses are over-priced and the market is flooded with houses. The demand will be outstripped by supply and the bubble will pop. All the talking real estate heads, say that the Housing Bubble will only affect the investor, the house flipper. They say that it won’t affect the homeowner who bought their house to make it a home. A friend of ours who works in real estate says that in the end, the over-inflated value of our home will go down some, but it will still be worth more than what we originally paid for it.

Originally when I heard people talking about a Housing Bubble I felt scared. I thought the pop would be loud and frantic. I thought it would happen in an instant. But I think it is happening and it does not look like what I expected. It seems instead of a pop, it’s more of a slow leak.

We live in a townhouse community. One set of homes has six units and we live in the 3rd unit in our set. The home on the corner is for sale. Initially when the owners put out the “For Sale” sign, my husband and I got excited. Those neighbors in particular have noisy, oversensitive car alarms, play loud music in the parking lot, and let their 3 miniature dogs run loose in the street, free to “leave their mark” in any front yard they please. Previously, homes for sale in our community sold in a matter of days, but this home has been on the market for a few months now. In the meantime, other “For Sale” signs have sprouted near our home.

With no fanfare these homes have stopped selling. I thought the price was outrageous when we bought ours, but the homes recently were selling for double what we are paying. Meanwhile, brand new townhouses and single-family homes have appeared overnight in nearby neighborhoods. We often ask ourselves, where will all the families come from that will fill these houses? Some people must be losing big money, but we sit here, only affected by the rise in property taxes…and the thump of loud music down the street is the only pop I heard in this housing bubble.

Pumpkin Pie

Bless you baby all the day
Bless you all the night
Bless you Pumpkin, Pumpkin Bread
Bless you Pumpkin Pie

Bless you sweet soft baby skin
Bless you little bright eyes
Bless you Pumpkin, Pumpkin Bread
Bless you Pumpkin Pie

Bless you fluffy baby hair
Bless you chubby thighs
Bless you Pumpkin, Pumpkin Bread
Bless you Pumpkin Pie

Bless you double baby chin
Bless you tiny size
Bless you Pumpkin, Pumpkin Bread
Bless you Pumpkin Pie

Bless you happy belly laugh
Bless you hungry cry
Bless you Pumpkin, Pumpkin Bread
Bless you Pumpkin Pie

The 305

I’ve been to enough concerts and events to know that Miamians are proud about many things – their heritage, their food, their music, and …their area code. Miami-Dade’s primary area code is 305. They added 786 a few years ago to keep up with the cell phone demand.

At many events I've seen the crowd polled about which cities or even states represented, but only in Miami has the emcee asked how many people lived in the 3-oh-5…or the 954 (Broward) …or the 561 (West Palm). I’ve heard chants about 305 and raps about 305. I’ve seen tee-shirts and hats with 305 emblazoned on them.

I’m not sure what all the hoopla about area codes is, but I have a theory:

When I was a child, all of Arkansas was in the 501 area code. While I was in college, they added 870 for basically the rural areas. Since I left Arkansas, Northwest Arkansas has become 479. It seems silly, but when they added 870, I felt kind of betrayed. My parents lived in the 870 area and it seemed like all of rural Arkansas had been shoved out of 501. Suddenly 870 meant country and to some people country means backward. It’s an unfair stereotype that I felt keenly.

At the heart of area codes is your home. An area code tells where you live, and to some extent, who you are. Identity and pride are closely related. If you identify with your school, you’re a panther, a cougar, a bear, a razorback, (an ibis if you go to UM). To identify with a city makes you a number, but since you share that number with friends and neighbors it gives you some strange connection.

In the end, I think 305 is just a number that became a mascot for Miami-Dade. It is as Miami as hot pink flamingos and café con leche. Miami is a city that is unfriendly to friendships. Many of my closest friends I see only a few times a year. I would never think that in Arkansas I would have a connection with someone in the 870 just because we shared an area code. But here, sometimes that’s all you have in common, at least to start out with, and you have to start somewhere or you wind up alone in a big city.

The Neglected

Old Cutler Presbyterian Church holds a missions festival every year around the end of February. They invite missionaries and ministry workers from around the world and from local parachurch ministries. This year’s festival ended on March 5 with a passionate sermon given by Doug Nichols of Action International. He talked about the needy, the nobodies, and the neglected – three “people groups” to whom we are called to serve.

One of the groups he categorized as “neglected” was teenagers. At first I thought that was strange, most churches expend a lot of energy, time, and money on their youth groups. But, maybe those aren’t the teenagers Doug Nichols was talking about.

Because of Call FM, I’ve been to a lot of Christian concerts held in places other than churches (parks, warehouses, a bowling alley) and I know that not all of the kids who come out for a concert would feel comfortable or welcome at a church. Some of the kids look scary to me. These kids are part of the “neglected” but I know that for every one of them that shows up for an event, there are many other teenagers that aren’t even there.

Most churches have youth groups, but there is a tension about what these groups are supposed to be. Are youth groups supposed to be a safe place for church kids? Or are they supposed to be a mission arm of the church to reach lost kids? It’s easy to say they are supposed to be both, but I think ultimately you have to pick which one will be the primary focus.

I wish I could say I had an easy answer to this problem; I don't. But in his sermon, Mr. Nichols cautioned against saying, "Somebody ought to do something..." instead he urged us to say, "What will we do?" The thought that my sweet little baby could be a big ugly teenager one day is enough for me to see those scary teenagers as someone's baby - lost and lonely and needing Jesus.

Family Resemblance

Supposedly in every marriage there is a spender and a saver. After 5 years of marriage, I have yet to embrace either identity. I want to save money, but I want to spend money too. I think I lean toward the saving camp, but I’m afraid there may be something at work in my genes that threatens my intentions. Consider the following:

Not long ago, I received an advertisement for baby food, which contained several coupons. There was also an order form for a demitasse spoon with a baby’s face engraved in the handle. Upon ordering this spoon, your child’s name and birth date would be added – definitely a keepsake…and only $2.99 (+shipping and handling).

Suddenly I had a flashback to a conversation I had with my dad. We were picking up my grandmother’s mail and he said, “I weed through her mail and throw out the catalogues – that way she won’t order anything and I won’t have to mail back all the stuff she decides she doesn’t want.”

This seemed funny to me, “So she orders a lot of stuff from catalogues?” I asked.

“All the time,” he said.

“Hmm, like she can’t help herself, she just wants to order things?”

My dad nodded.

Not long after that conversation, my dad and my husband were discussing a tool advertised on a paid program. My husband abhors paid programming and would only watch it to laugh at its expense. It turned out that my dad had purchased the very tool my husband found so humorous. I laughed to myself, just like my grandmother, can’t help himself!

These thoughts crossed my mind while I was holding the advertisement in my hand. Did I somehow inherit the desire to order things from my dad? And did he inherit it from his mother? I quickly crumpled up the paper and threw it away, but with a twinge – it was only $2.99 (+shipping and handling).

Lentin'

It is Lent and I have done just about the most un-Baptist-y thing you can do – I have legalistically given something up*. Lent began Wednesday last week and will continue through Easter – roughly 6 weeks. I gave up TV. And already 9 days into this, I have already learned a few things.

Here is my history with TV. I grew up in the middle of nowhere and we were one of the first families I knew to have a satellite receiver. My dad’s a dealer, I can’t imagine buying cable. Plus I was not extremely popular in high school, I watched A LOT of TV. When I was 17 I spent a summer at a camp (of sorts) with no access to TV whatsoever. When I came home I was broken from my addiction and watched no TV regularly for about the next 7 years. Then, September 11th happened and we watched TV non-stop. This started a sort of love affair with the instant news channels. Slowly I discovered new sitcoms, talk shows, cooking shows, and before I knew it, I was watching old reruns of shows I watched as a bored teenager. Until about 5 months ago we had a TV about the size of a large toaster and we were given a ridiculously giant TV that dominates our living room. Suddenly I realized that I turned on the television mid-morning and some days didn’t turn it off until 10pm or later. This was entirely too much TV.

It is not enough for me to just quit doing something; I have to have a secondary motivation. Lent gave me that umph. Just to know there are also thousands of Catholics, Methodists, and Episcopalians denying themselves whatever is their addiction spurred me on.

So what have I learned so far? I’ve learned that, unlike when I was a teenager, television was not keeping me from getting things done – no a 6 month old was accomplishing that. I’ve learned that I kept the television on non-stop more for noise than for entertainment. The only shows I really miss are Good Eats** and America’s Funniest Home Videos. I even am completely caught up on the news thanks to talk radio. And I’ve learned that it was mostly my doing that kept the TV on non-stop past 6pm. My husband hasn’t turned on the TV very often since I started this journey.

When Easter gets here I wonder if I’ll immediately revert to my old ways. I’m not sure, but I know this: if I had given up chocolate, I assure you I would.

*In all truth, some Baptists are legalists. I’m not sure why because the Baptist Churches pretty universally teach a grace based theology. Anyway, Baptists can be legalistic about all sorts of things, tradition, for example (my personal pet peeve), but I still have my own issues to work through.

**I’m pretty addicted to Good Eats and since it is of some added value other than entertainment (i.e. I am sure my cooking skills have improved because of this show) I decided that if Rob is watching it, I can watch it too and still not be “cheating”.

Sabbatheory

Last year I read the entire Little House on the Prairie series. There was a funny story about Almanzo Wilder and his brother in the book Farmer Boy about the Sabbath. Almanzo's father was taking a restful nap one Sunday afternoon and the boys were expected to sit quietly doing nothing in order to observe the Sabbath. The snow outside was so tempting and their father slept so soundly that they slipped outside to go sledding. Things went awry, dad wokes up, and, well, let's just say they spent the rest of the day observing the Sabbath.

Of all the "goods things we negelct to do" this one gets a major gloss over. I have a theory about Sabbath observation. My theory is this: we do not work (or play) hard enough the rest of the week to observe the Sabbath. Modern people are used to taking a little "Sabbath" every evening. When Sunday comes around we aren't ready to rest, we are bored. The people in Little House on the Prairie worked from dawn to dusk 6 days a week and rested on Sunday. They spent the day quiet and contemplative. I know, I know, we work hard. But I couldn't help but feel like a slacker when I read about Pa building the Ingalls' home by hand and by himself, Ma making butter and sewing clothes, and Almanzo's family cutting blocks from the frozen lake in the dead of winter so they could have ice in the summer. At night they were tired and on Sunday, they had a break.

So what's the practical application? Do we have to completely reject modern conveniences in order to observe the Sabbath? I don't think so. There is plenty of work to be done to make us tired enough to be glad of a Sabbath. And all that extra Sunday work can wait, can't it? Can't that laundry wait, can't the bed go unmade? A good start is something a roommate told me once, on the Sabbath you should, "Eat twice as much, sleep twice as much, and read your Bible twice as much." If you're at church all morning and spend the rest of the day following her advice, I think that's a Sabbath day well spent.

The Colors of Miami

One of the first things I noticed when I first moved to Miami (besides the abnormally high number of limousines on the road) was the color of houses. Never in my life had I seen sky blue houses. At the time I thought they were ugly. I was horrified when they painted our apartment buildings green. I tried to ignore the fact that our second apartment was a pink lipsticky color.

And suddenly I don’t think those colors are so offensive. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to them, but I think it’s something more.

Another thing “different” about Miami is the size of the sky. I’m sure the sky is technically no bigger here than anywhere else, but it seems bigger. It seems bigger mostly because the land is so flat. But it also seems bigger because it is beautifully, shockingly blue. The overcast days of winter are very rare here. In fact my first winter I spent in Miami I eventually began to crave an overcast day. The bombardment of beautiful days began to depress me. In Arkansas a beautiful winter day was a flag saying, “I am rare! Enjoy me in some special way!” The difference in feeling was strange.

The big bluer than blue sky is a sharp contrast with the super green of the palm trees here. Everything is green here all year round. There is none of the dull brown winter usually brings. The summer colors never get crispy.*

The natural colors are so different here that it is no wonder that the colors chosen to paint houses are different too. We live in a white house now – with a red Spanish tile roof – and although white is not a shocking color, it highlights the natural contrast of colors so prevalent here. Imagine stark white trimmed in rusty red against a pure blue sky. Imagine the splashes of tropical green. Now imagine the juicy purple of a summer storm cloud pushing through the sky. Isn’t it beautiful? I still enjoy the rare overcast day, but I’ve learned love the tropical colors…just don’t paint my house pink!

*Note: This is mostly because of all the lawn sprinklers during the dry season.

Back to Sleep

Hi. My name is Leah and I put my baby on his tummy to sleep. I know it is wrong, unsafe, and evil, but I do it and I have been doing it for 3 months now. Actually, I’m obsessed with it. I can’t pick up a book about infant care without madly flipping through the index to find the section on SIDS. It’s not that I want or expect them to validate my addiction; I just want someone to answer my questions.

It all started at naptime. My baby was 2 months old and his naps were suddenly erratic. I’d spend hours of time nursing and rocking my sleepy baby and never get him to sleep. So I got desperate. I laid him on his tummy and patted his back, he relaxed, his eyes got droopy and suddenly he was asleep. I was amazed, but felt guilty. At his 2 month check-up, the pediatrician asked, “How is he sleeping?” I know she expected a good or bad answer, but I blurted out, “On his back…. except at naptime, I let him sleep on his tummy.”

Only at naptime quickly became all the time, but I’d flip him over after he fell asleep. Soon he began fussing when I flipped him over, so I left him on his tummy. I became more self-conscious. I’d meet new people, “What a pretty baby!” they’d exclaim. “He sleeps on his tummy,” I’d quickly respond.

I have become so preoccupied with the subject that you’d think I would start putting my baby down on his back to sleep, but I don’t. Before I do that I want some answers – answers that I haven’t found in any of the books I’ve read or any of the websites I’ve scoured. According to The Mother of All Baby Books, SIDS is the leading cause of death for infants under 1 year of age. I know that there are several factors that reduce a baby’s risk for SIDS – back sleeping, breastfeeding, prenatal care for the mother, not dressing baby too heavily. Everything I read says the same things. But everything I read brings me only so far and then leaves me on the outside. I can’t find the statistics they refer to in their articles. Since they don’t know the cause, how can they be sure that all the deaths labeled as SIDS are actually caused by the same thing? Do all babies that die of SIDS sleep on their tummies? Are all babies that die of SIDS bottle-fed? Is "more likely" 51% or 98% - there is a big difference. I wish I knew these things. I know all the “experts” recommend these things, but I have long stopped thinking that experts are infallible.

Ultimately, I am the mother, my husband and I – we are the parents and we will decide how we will care for our baby. The day will come when we decide if he will be allowed to ride on a 4 wheeler or go to summer camp all alone. There will always be things that may or may not be safe. I just wish I didn’t feel like I’m being a rebel.

Sermon Notes: Wayne Curles

Wayne Curles
Biblical Education by Extension
Country Coordinator for Burma
February 26, 2006
Old Cutler Presbyterian Church - Missions Conference

Text: Matthew 9:35-38

I don’t normally blog sermon notes, but then I don’t normally attend OCPC and, quite frankly, I didn’t have a pen during the sermon, but I found Mr. Curles’s teaching to be inspiring enough that I remembered almost everything he said – except for those 5-7 minutes I spent worrying about my son in the nursery. Which I told myself was silly – he was fine, but when I picked him up he was absolutely shaking from crying so much (my fault, I miscalculated when he would be hungry again). I guess I didn’t spend enough time worrying; I’ll have to make up for that next time.

One thing that I have been impressed with lately is my own lack of compassion for other human beings. In Jeremiah, the Israelites are condemned for worshiping idols and then suddenly condemnation for their lack of compassion is slipped in as well. To me this says that lack of compassion is probably pretty close “big sin-wise” to idolatry. After all the most important commandment is to Love the Lord your God…and the 2nd Love your neighbor as yourself.

In Mr. Curles sermon, he pointed out that:

1. Jesus saw the crowds – rather took notice – do we take notice?

2. Jesus had compassion – Mr. Curles noted that the kind of compassion He felt is hard for us to identify with, and that it is more like the kind of compassion we feel for a dog we see being hit by a car, it does not have to be our dog and we still would feel tremendous pity and sorrow to see this happen. (I really like dogs and have in honest moments admitted that I like some dogs much more than some people.)

3. The crowds were harassed and helpless – this is a spiritual problem, we know from the previous verses that Jesus healed physical problems as he went along his way. Additionally harassment is not a physical or visible problem in most instances.

4. The harvest is plentiful – plentiful implies ripe – you would not call trees full of unripe fruit plentiful. Mr. Curles quoted a noted Christian writer who surmised that there are many many lost people who need only to hear the gospel and they will be saved.

5. Jesus commands us to ask the Lord to send workers. Mr. Curles told of churches in Korea where every member is one of 4 distinctions – learners, teachers, sent-ones, and senders – and suggested that the church in America doesn’t take our identity as Christians as practically

Another thing I found interesting about Mr. Curles was that he had only been in the ministry since he was 50 years old (he looked to be about 70 presently). I guess it’s never too late to give your whole life to the Lord.