Thoughts early in the morning...

It's about 4:30 in the morning in Memphis, and I've been up for an hour. Wide awake. Raring to go. I got here about twelve hours ago, and today I'll head to Louisville for my spring seminars. Lots still left to do, so I'll do some more reading in a minute. Of course, that should put me right back to sleep...

Until then, some of the mixed up thoughts that were bouncing around my fatigued brain before I turned on the light.

1. It's Mother's Day in America, and I'm here with my Mom. I'm not sure I ever knew what a blessing that would be. On the other hand, the Mom I'm probably closest to in the world is right now the farthest away. Melanie is still in Paris doing what Mom's do, but without Dad. Not that I add that much when I'm there, of course. I miss her bad and would love to hold her about now and say, "Happy Mother's Day, sweetheart, you're the best." She's a Proverbs 31 lady if ever I knew one, and her husband and children rise up and call her "blessed." The good news is that Mother's Day in France is in June, so I'll be there!!!

2. On the flight over, I watched La Môme, the movie about French singer Edith Piaf. What a tragic, painful, dark life, but a voice that touched France and the US. What struck me on Mother's Day is that Piaf's mother left her when she was a little girl and her father was away during WWI. One scene in a café when Piaf's drunken mother comes in begging is pretty moving. Moms not only give us physical birth, they are part of God's plan for giving us life.

3. One more thing -- this one a gripe. Has anyone noticed that the hardest country for an American to get into is the US? Granted, I haven't been to very many places, and I am all for security, but it is work to get into my own country. What's more, I live in a country known 'round the world for its rude people. But I have to come here to get treated rudely. Oh la la.

What's more, I had the mark -- literally -- I won the customs officer lottery and got to go through all the machines. My briefcase got hung in the conveyor belt and when the customs officer jerked it loose, she broke the buckle. I said, "oh, you messed up my bag." She snarled in reply, "you want a complaint form?" I said, "no, but an apology would be nice." Really, I sort of just said that under my breath because I was in that man-with-no-country mystery place between the airplane and America. Then, I went to the next place and the lady said, "oh you're flight is pretty soon, go in lane B." I thought, "finally, someone who's nice." What I didn't realize was that "lane B" was the "potential bomber" line. I had to go through a bizarre catscan-type machine that blew little puffs of air all over me. Wow.

One thing about it: I'm proof that our TSA folks aren't guilty of racial profiling. Around me in "line B" were a well-tanned but very American couple, a very chipper young college student,then me -- the overweight redneck who only fits the profile of "wants BBQ bad."

Well, I'm pushing 5AM now. Better start the day. Happy Mother's Day.