Laurie Beth Jones Blog

Celebrating Joy and Wonder

The Christmas Play

Last Sunday I was delighted to behold the Christmas Play at a local community church.  The age range of talent was from four to sixteen.     As all Christmas Plays tend to do, this play had a part for everyone.  It was as if the playwright was instructed “Don’t forget about the donkey!”

This play was a bit unusual because the group had decided on a humorous updating of the Nativity.  When the words were read “It came to pass” two teens actually threw a football to one another.   When it came to the verse “And the angels were sore afraid” the angels started moaning loudly, and hobbling about like they had sports injuries.

We all guffawed, however, when the scripture verse was read “And Mary was delivered” because a five year old yet apparently very pregnant Mary came in standing up precariously on a UPS hand cart wielded by a teenaged angel.

As in all Christmas plays some of the narrators forgot their lines, and had to be loudly coached from crouching adults.

At one point, little toddler Mary, having been “delivered,” grabbed the baby Jesus doll by one foot  and dragged it thumping down the altar stairs as she sucked her thumb and climbed out of the Nativity scene, obviously having decided the fun was over.   Joseph, a child  like Mary,  decided it was his turn to climb in the manger, realizing that was where all the action was, and knowing a vacancy when he saw one.   At this point the parents and the director had to intervene, all while the narrator continued blithely on reading the Christmas story.

The talent in charge of the prop removal was a little distracted, so some props were left on stage and others that were necessary didn’t make it on time.

A trumpeter couldn’t grasp the trumpet easily as it seemed tangled up in the fishing line.  How the story of Joshua at Jericho and Jonah in the whale became part of the Christmas story is all part of the wonderful celebration of the old and the new, (and perhaps because there were more youth than angels needed, at which point the director decided to do time lapses and cut in scenes to establish the context, of course.)

Apart from the cognitive dissonance of seeing a pregnant five year old hobbling toward the altar, I had a very good time.

It seemed like a microcosm of life itself—missing trumpets and tangled lines….too many props or not enough… The image of the little girl dragging the baby Jesus doll by the foot thump thump thumping down the stairs tore at my heart strings.

I wondered how often I do the same thing to the Christ child as I go about my business.

How very patient the Lord is, indeed, with all of us in this Christmas Play.  How very insistent the Author was that we all could have a part in it, even as it comes to pass.

May this Christmas and Holy Day season be filled with joy and wonder– and trumpets– in all the right places.

Blessings to you,

Laurie Beth

San Diego Fashion Institute of Design

A Boost Up onto Wild Horses

Amidst the curved glass walls with bright orange etchings, and the grey modular sofas forming “S” shapes instead of “L’s, sat my brown leather saddle displayed on a wooden pedestal.

As nervous models huddled in a back room and party coordinators checked on finishing touches,  friends and fashion lovers gathered around the food table, selecting their wine and eateries and visiting with one another.

This was no ordinary holiday party.  It was both a launch and a benefit put together by entrepreneurs who want to do well by doing right.

Joanna Wasmuth, former director of microfinance marketing  for World Vision, has a dream—that small businesses can grow by helping other small businesses grow.  She calls the movement “Erase Poverty,” and has designed a plan that allows business owners to contribute to microfinance enterprises through cause marketing.  She has established the first cause marketing firm of its kind in the United States, and this party was designed in part to benefit the cause.

My part was the product launch of my LBJ Lifestyles line—which are “unique accessories for the creative life.”

Joanna shared her moving story of seeing poverty up close in more than 60 countries around the world, and knowing that small loans of even $25 can help end poverty one family at a time.

I thanked our venue sponsor, The San Diego Fashion Design and Merchandising Institute, who had donated their fabulous facility overlooking Petco Park.   I thanked the “Snooze” restaurant for donating the food for the evening.  I thanked the volunteer catering coordinator, Sean, and the photographer, Leyla—all who were giving of their time and talents to make a difference in San Diego and beyond.

Launch Location for LBJ Lifestyles

And then I took the microphone, set a Santa Fe styled suitcase full of my first prototypes on an orange chair beside me, and began to speak.

I told of how I got started in business with a microloan of $500 from my mother.  I had ideas, energy, and talent, but at the time no way to move beyond my minimum wage paycheck to launch myself into business.   I pointed to my saddle on the pedestal, saying that many people know where they want to go, and know how to ride, but need a boost up to get into the saddle for the journey.

I then one by one pulled out pieces from the suitcase, telling their stories of origin.

This wrap around leather journal was made on a rainy day, after determining I would make my own art piece journal rather than paying $1200 for something similar at a high end designer store.

This piece, a combination rabbit and leather draped over a notebook, was made from scraps I had laying around.

This piece was made from black and white speckled goatskin and a red purse strap I salvaged from a thrift store.

As I pulled out each piece the people oohed and ahhed and nodded.

I shared how one day I woke up at 5 in the morning to ride my horse, then showered and got in a cab to the airport, only to find myself at 7 pm in a boardroom in New York City, still missing my horse.   How I designed the saddlebag purse, now named the Cheyenne, so I could carry the memory and closeness of that ride with me even into the boardroom.

I told how one day I noticed that nearly everything I was touching was made of aluminum, plastic, or synthetic material, and it made me long for the natural touch and feel of leather and fur.

I shared that my goal with these pieces is to honor the animals and the beauty of their after they are gone, and to be able to keep them close to me all through the day.

My products are designed with minimum bling, desiring that the eye marvel at the natural whorls and colors of the rich leather and cowhides…..that I wanted the products to almost feel like you found them in a forest.

The Models and the Merchandise

I shared that standing in the midst of this fashion setting was in honor of my mother, who studied at Pratt Institute of Design in New York City, with hopes and dreams of being a fashion illustrator, only to have her dreams crushed by the Depression…causing her to work as a book keeper for the next forty years.

I shared that I believe that we can all be “spiritreneurs”—people who can say yes to these three things…I am honoring God with my work,  I am honoring myself and my talents with my work, and I am making a living full time doing both of the above.

I shared that my pieces which hold both iPpads and journals are a desire to inspire us to return to Renaissance thinking….with my mother teaching that Renaissance thinkers made such an impact on society because they took the time to observe nature and also record their thoughts.  I wondered if we were losing that mindset today, with a constant barrage of synthetics and technology, causing us to be passive rather than proactive in our destinies.

And then I signaled to Ebony Aldridge, the fabulous director of LBJ Lifestyles, to signal the models to begin their walk, each carrying a different piece and saying who they were and why they liked it.

Out came Jessica with the rabbit fur on buffalo hide “De Leon” saying she appreciated the fact that the piece could be worn with casual or dress up clothes.

Next came Diana with the “Tuxedo” white rabbit fur with black feather journal, saying she is always sketching her thoughts down in journals, and now could use this instead of writing her thoughts down in throw away notebooks.

Then came Justin, sporting the Cheyene saddle bag in black leather, stating that he loved it because he could take it on his motorcycle  as well as into work.

Then came Amy, my niece Tara’s best friend, carrying the “Fling” rabbit fur covered journal with a red leather strap, saying she would find it handy to make notes for her students.

Snooze Eatery Donates for LBJ Lifestyle Launch

And finally came Tara, my beloved niece, who laughingly shared that she loved her deep brown/red Brindle leather iPad cover because it matched her hair and was handy at her work, as well.

As they all did their final walk around and posed for pictures, I unveiled the table covered with a black tablecloth, full of merchandise, and the people clapped and then rushed over to view all the available pieces.

I had asked for feedback and comments, and people were excited and gracious, sharing ideas as I tried to swallow some of the delicious food and mingle and talk at the same time.  Realizing this was not going to be possible, I ditched the food and chose mingling and talking.

Here is what came out of that event so far.

Erase Poverty raised over $1,300 for microloans, and made many new friends to help carry the word.

Erase Poverty and LBJ Lifestyles Partners on Micro Finance

Christmas gifts were purchased from the existing product table, with several more put on hold for personal delivery later.

Ebony got an offer to teach a course at the Fashion Institute in her spare time.

And one person there, a celebrity stylist with her own shop and fashion magazine, requested an urgent appointment for the next day, saying she could sell every piece we have, and more.

As of today she has pledged to help us find not only a rep in New York, but also match us with celebrity “endorsers.”  She told Ebony that these pieces were fresh, original, exciting, and that clients would eat them up.  She also warned that copy-catters would hurry to knock off, and we must be wise in our approach to market.  We are scheduled to meet next week to strategize master planning.

The next day Ebony went into her shop and the woman showed her the rabbit fur/leather “De Leon” purse matched with a $6,000 ball gown.

Ebony said it took her breath away to see it.  The woman smiled and said “That’s why I am so good at what I do.  And that is why your product is going to hit it big.”

Today Ebony is in Las Vegas for a long scheduled birthday celebration for her sister and friends.  I am heading to El Paso to see my mother, sister, and best friend Catherine.  Joanna has lined up two more showings for the product line.

Right now my saddle is thrown over the sofa in my living room, amidst a jumble of left over party props and prototypes.  I smile as I realize it is being “ridden” again on horses of air, leaping impossibilities and running free with wild imaginings.

With God, and a boost up micro-loan, all things are indeed possible.

Laurie Beth

The LBJ Lifestyles Brand launches today!!  For the LBJ Lifestyles Brand story read the full version.

The Live. Breathe. Joy Line of Products is the way I live, breathe and express joy in my life.  Now I want to share it with you. My complete line will be available soon.  There are a variety of colors and designs for every lifestyle.

‘I grew up in a place where all you needed was a horse, a saddlebag and the stars.’ The De Leon is for bold explorers willing to sail beyond the known world. To place an order for one of the LBJ Lifestyle pieces you can call 1.888.525.7371 Extension 6 and speak to one of the LBJ Representatives or purchase direct from the website.

The De Leon

The DeLeon Back

I could tell you about things that are happening, and have happened recently. It could read like bullet points in a quarterly report: business is up 30% from last year…we have added another six countries to our trainer representation list…we got 767 responses from my recent appearance on Trinity Broadcasting Network.

It could read like a travelogue….went to Alaska and came back with 1, 689 photos including grizzly bears nuzzling each other and eagles soaring over glaciers.

I could tell you that my Mom is wearing “ski boots” of sorts because she has a little sore on her foot that is having difficulty healing, and that her 3 year old great grandson Jackson walked up to her and said “Cool shoes, ‘Amo.” Last week he walked up to Mom’s dining table full of ladies and announced “My name is Jack and I’ve got no pants!”
I could tell you that my sister and my niece and I sat at a patio table in Coronado and laughed until we snorted and paid the waitress a really big tip because we kept the table so long.

The sun was shining—raining down, actually, with a halo-ing affect on the afternoon. And it is the sun really that I want to talk about right now.

Two days ago I went to a local pool and laid out my summer romance novel, big hat, beach towel, iced tea, sunscreen, and decided to just really “zone” out. I put my straw hat over my whole face to block the sun’s rays, half closed my eyes in dozing relaxation, and then I saw it—tiny circles that were actually radiating light and ‘breathing’ light all at the same time. They were inside my hat–emerging through the pattern of woven straw. I thought “This is almost psychedelic—I am having a party in my hat!” I looked again and the little mini-sundrops of light were indeed breathing in and out and radiating liquid gold all at the same time.

I read recently that scientists have discovered what they feel to be the edge of “a” universe. What did they find from Hubble photographs? Bubbles. Bubbles of light. They actually look like cells multiplying under a microscope. And they are full of light.

At church on Sunday our circle formed around the inside of the church. It is a tradition in the early service—after communion we all form a circle, hold hands and wait for each person to receive the bread and wine. When the circle is complete the pastor says a few words and then everyone claps and gets to go home.

But this Sunday the pastor noticed a homeless man sitting way in the back—behind a pillar and in a corner, as if he were ashamed. The music had already stopped but Pastor broke away and marched all the way down the aisle and stepped through the circle to minister communion to this seemingly broken man. That was very moving by itself. Yet what happened when the Pastor stepped beyond the circle was what got me. There we were—all holding hands, and there was no music, no center of attention, no clear next step. We all stood there looking across the pews at one another, saying nothing. There was a moment of suspended silence, and then you could sense it.

We looked at us and were engulfed in awe.
It was little drops of light, coming through the weave…breathing and radiating sunshine all at the same time.

Each of us a bubbling circle of light…hovering at the edge of the universe…emerging through the straw of God’s hat…all on an August day.

Fourth of July: Home of the Brave

By Laurie Beth Jones

Yesterday I was thinking about all the places I have been on the Fourth of July.  Perhaps my most memorable was when I was seventeen, recently graduated, taking a trip on the ferry boat past the Statue of Liberty, watching fireworks explode behind her solemn and welcoming gaze.  I have sat in the park at Saratoga Springs on a blanket with friends, watching cascading embers fall in the sky after hearing the local symphony play the Star Spangled Banner.    I have sat on the tailgate of my PT Cruiser overlooking Rim Road in El Paso, Texas, watching the sky light up over three states and two nations.

Crowds oooh and ahhh and even clap in delight with each seemingly more magnificent display.  And then we pack up our blankets and chairs and go home, the next day to begin our normal routines.

Last week however I was reminded that freedom comes with a price.  I exited the movie theatre to see a group of guys and gals standing around talking.  In their midst was a young man in a wheelchair.  He looked to be about 30, and both his legs were missing below the knees.    I could only surmise that he was a veteran from Iraq or more likely Afghanistan.

Living in San Diego I see a lot of young men in wheel chairs, or hobbling along on crutches, or even running in the park on titanium feet.  San Diego has a strong and proud military presence, as well as a huge hospital for veterans in Balboa Park.

This Memorial Day the pastor decided to stand and simply read the names of soldiers killed that month in Afghanistan.  The first name had barely left his lips when I wanted to stand up and scream “STOP!  STOP IT!  NOT ONE MORE NAME!  PLEASE!”

But he didn’t stop.  He kept reading.  Listing their ages, usually in their 20’s, and their home towns, mostly places I didn’t recognize.

When my uncle died we discovered a small box in his closet full of war medals and commendations he received from serving in World War II. He was in the V corps which liberated France.  Among the items discovered were also pictures of what looked like stacked firewood, but upon closer inspection revealed they were human bodies—dead prisoners from the camp in Germany his corps had also gone on to set free.   We discovered field notes in his handwriting detailing lists of people who now needed to be returned to their respective countries.  Evidently he was in charge of helping repatriate former prisoners.

He never talked about the war.  I remember him as always smiling.  He left all his remaining assets to us 3 kids, which amounted to more than we ever dreamed he had.   He also left instructions for the paramedics on what to do, and who to call when they found him.  He put a bullet through his brain, right after calling 911 and giving them his address.

We will never know what sent him over the edge.  Was it the memories of everything he had seen during the war finally erupting in despair?  Was it the alcohol that had become a problem during those long days and nights in the trenches? Was it the diagnosis of a disease he had gotten in a recent doctor’s report?  Was it all just simply too much for him, a veteran, and a beautiful man, who paid the cost of war.

I think about these things when I ride my bicycle down Coronado Ave, counting the hundreds of flags proudly placed among the scenic neighborhoods.

When I see the explosions in the sky this Fourth of July I will think of the young man in the wheel chair, still smiling among his friends, who helped pay the price of freedom.  His sacrifice gives immeasurable meaning to the “Home of the Free, and the Brave.”

Amen.