The Brain Cells You Are Trying to Reach Are No Longer In Service

I am convinced that menopause causes brain damage. It must, I mean why else do I spend hours looking for my glasses only to find them perched on top of my head or why if I run into someone I know at the grocery store I cannot remember their name. Things have gotten so bad that I’m not sure I’d even recognize my own mother unless I was in her home. It’s almost as if my Verizon Network of a brain has been replaced by T-Mobile. Most of the time there just aren’t any bars available. Nashville was one of those days.

Nashville is exciting and my brain got a little over stimulated by the new faces, names, places and sounds. So much so that after the concert I recognized someone I thought I should know and momentarily panicked. Why I thought I should know this person was beyond me. Truth is we’ve never met before, he is simply in a video I own. I sent a message to my brain asking for name recognition and received an all circuits busy please leave a message reply in return. I tried tilting my head and staring hoping to receive better brain wave reception, but it didn’t help. All it did was make me appear stalkerish. Not quite the effect I was going for.

Note: if you see me in public and I’m tilting my head while looking at you,I’m not being cute, or coy or flirtatious. I just have no stinkin clue what your name is at that moment and I’m doing my best cingular inpersonation – “Brain, can you hear me now?”

I let the issue drop for the rest of the evening and just enjoyed myself with my friends when suddenly my brain returned my call and put me on speaker phone. (The true story of my life.)

“I know you! You’re (insert name of recognized comic here).” and then it disconnected the call leaving me with nothing more than dial tone. My mouth is once again engaged with no service to the brain which really isn’t the best thing in the world for someone who wants to be a professional speaker and stand up comic, you know what I mean?

That would be when said person asks, “Yes I am and you would be…??”

I drew a blank. I knew this day would come and sure enough it had. I had momentarily forgotten my own name. I’m pretty sure that if it had not been printed on my shirt, we would have been toast for conversation right then and there. It’s really a good thing I didn’t have my name printed on my underwear like I did when I was a kid, or that would have been really awkward.

I did my best to explain who I was, but ya know… it really didn’t help. My circuits were once again busy and the best I could accomplish in return was a stuttering and stammering while I try to recover from yet another speaker phone experience.

“I’m in CCA, but I’m not really a comic, I’m a speaker and teacher, and uhm yeah… that’s who I am. “


I’m in CCA but I’m not a comic?


“Clean up Aisle One! – Neurotic comic about to vomit.”

– The whole reason I joined CCA was so that I could learn how to be a comic. So that I could learn what to do with the speakerphone moments in my life and make people laugh on purpose rather than accident.

The busy circuit days do tell me something – when faced with a legit – real, out there making money comic, I don’t feel I have earned the right to call myself a comic yet. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been at this for three years, I’m not there yet. I can call myself a speaker – been doing that for 20 years or more, or a teacher or a writer, but not a comic. What’s up with that?


Being part of a mission team and being married to a man who is studying for his entrance exam to seminary, I am struggling with my own images of “Godliness.” That’s what’s up with that. Can I be a missionary, a pastors wife, and still write and perform comedy? My speakerphone moments have made people laugh for years, why not keep that in my life?

Can I still be a speaker like I have been for the past two decades? Talking about the hard issues of special needs and family dysfunction. Talking about the hope that is in Christ when all feels lost?

Can I write the book that is really inside me. The one God wants me to write, and not the one I think I “Should” write because it has all the pretty words.

Can I still be me, in ministry or does my husband’s new career path change all of that? I hope I can still be me – but to do that? I have to put my eyes on Christ and keep them off of other people.

I’m learning that sharing Gospel of Christ in uplifting and postive ways IS Godly. I like to have fun in whatever I do. And today, more than ever, we need laughter, we need hope.

My joy in Christ is a gift I bring to the Mission Start – it’s a gift I bring to my own church. He placed it there – hiding it because someone might lable it “ungodly” would be a horrible mistake.

Don’t you think?

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