Bats in the Belfry

i hate marathons

2010-08-25T11:29:00.000-07:00

Having faith is easy when all of our needs - and even most of our wants - are being met. We readily attribute our blessings to God when things are good and we feel satisfied about our lives' direction.

Exercising faith in the midst of suffering, loss or hardship - living it when our hearts' are breaking, or our needs are not being met, or our very souls are engulfed in cavernous doubt - that is really just the beginning when it comes to living a life of faith. The only thing we can do when we hit the wall in a long race is to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Some days we have to make one of two choices: to drop out of the race, or to trust God even though we are not sure there is still reason to have faith.

Some days pushing forward is all there is.

This Summer - or BUST!

2010-07-06T18:30:00.000-07:00

It's been too long, my friends. But hey- it's not like I get paid for this gig!

We've moved twice in the past three months and I still have a bunch of junk to sort. We did take 800 lbs. of junk to the landfill and another couple hundred to Goodwill but there's still TOO MUCH STUFF. My thought process is that it should all be accounted for "in case anything should happen to me/us". I would hate for my relatives to have to deal with the rest of the misc. junk. that is currently piled in the garage. Ugh.

Clean sweep, here I come!

"Remember, stress does not come from being busy. Stress comes from being busy about things we don't want to do, or from not being busy about things we do want to do."
--Patricia Sprinkle, Women Who Do Too much

"BUH-leted!"

2010-02-24T22:47:00.000-08:00

I'm with Strong Bad on this one. My stupid Inbox for my email had over 1,500 messages in it. I just quit checking email all together - it was like opening one of those closets where everything barrels out onto your head when you open the door. Since I've been decluttering everything else in my house I decided that the Inbox was no exception. Without a second glance I deleted page after page of emails grunting, "BUH-leted!" in great satisfaction every time. If you are having a crappy day and want a quick pick-me-up I highly recommend this as a form of therapy. I guarantee that if you clean out your house, your car and your Inbox, you will also lose at least 10 lbs. It's easy! "Buh-lete" it today!

Government Cheese

2010-02-13T16:24:00.000-08:00

Sorry it's been so long! We're back to having no Internet due to the spending freeze here at the homestead. "Involuntary simplicity" and all that bit...

There are days when I wonder if we are part of some strange social experiment: we are now familiar with things such as "short sales" and foreclosure; "Self-Sufficiency" Programs a.k.a. "Food Stamps"; and other services offered by the state or federal government.

We are considering a tenement on wheels after the bank boots us out of the house so we'll be embracing the simple life on a whole other level.

I find it somewhat amusing that we still believe in God at this point. (Yeah, yeah there are worse things to go through in life - I know that.) Every time we check the mail and get another buttload of bills I laugh. We can't pay most of them and God has decided to go to Tahiti for vacation or something. That's where I would be if I had thousands of people whining at me that they can't pay their bills. Sure, He throws us a bone once in awhile but mostly, this is one of those I'm-going-to-test-your-faith type of deals. Last year the ongoing discussion between God and I was whether I was going to be Jonah or Job. Jonah, the disobedient whiner or Job, the guy with so much faith, who went through so much crap, and still chose to say, "Though He slay me yet I will praise Him." This year our ongoing discussion is about Moses and the constantly complaining Israelites he was stuck with for 40 years out in the desert. Talk about the worst job ever. I do not envy old Mo that's for sure.

"Do you trust Me? What if I only give you enough for that day and no more? Will you still trust Me?"
What if it doesn't seem like He is providing? (Because it doesn't seem like it) All I know is that I do NOT want to spend 40 years wandering around in the desert like those guys did.

What if the only thing God ever chooses to provide is a van down by the river?
What then?

10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1

2009-10-13T00:08:00.000-07:00

It's hard to believe that we're on the homestretch with this pregnancy-- or what I like to call the "fat-guy-in-a-little-coat" time. Funny how even most of the maternity shirts do not seem to quite stretch far enough. Thank goodness most women do not have hairy bellies!

Most likely this kid will be arriving on Oct. 21st. Due to placenta previa the doc. has me down for a C-Section. I cannot say that I'm looking forward to that although I was not looking forward to labor and delivery anyway. (who does, really?) I keep telling myself that it will be OK. Most days that works but some days the reality of it seems rather terrifying. It is a major surgery, after all, with a fairly long recovery time. I mean, it's not like they can pull a kid out laparoscopically.

I really should ask the doc if they can do just a little liposuction while they're at it. Can't hurt to ask, right?

We will have one last ultrasound the day before to see if the placenta has moved any but if not we'll be up and at the hospital at 5:30 AM on Wed. Yep, I am definitely a little scared about it now that I think about it. No thinking about it. Go to your happy place.

Other than that, I've been tempted to quit leaving the house due to the onslaught of, "Aren't you ready to pop yet?!" questions. Really. No more of the popping. Do I look like Orville Redenbacher? I do not recall any popping going on those other two times. Burning maybe, scorching even, but no popping.

So, there you have it.

two dollars - I want my two dollars!

2009-08-19T13:35:00.000-07:00

Man, did I hit the wall yesterday or what? I have not faced that level of sheer depression for a long while.

A friend of ours told us about this church in California where the pastor challenged everyone to get rid of all but 100 things (not including furniture & necessities) in order to live more simply and have more time to do the things God is calling them to do. I don't think I could pare things down that far...
All night the other night I kept waking up hearing, "100 things, 100 things." It was eerily reminiscent of the newspaper boy on the movie Better Off Dead: "Two dollars, I want my two dollars!" as he stalked John Cusak's character on his bmx bike chanting the refrain over and over.

"I can't do it! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! I'm trying to sleep!"
No wonder I felt like crap the next day.

Because we are now having to show the house ("Hi! Welcome to the bat cave!") we kind of need to clear out a lot of this crap. I've been going through Peter Walsh's book & workbook, It's All Too Much! in order to keep myself on track. He's the guy who has been on the show Clean Sweep and he's also been on Oprah helping some of those hardcore hoarders clean out their homes. Walsh says: My clients say things like, "I was buried under all that stuff," "I was drowning," "I feel like I'm suffocating." We use those metaphors because clutter robs us of life. It robs us socially, when we're too embarrassed to have people over. It robs us spiritually, because we can't be at peace in a cluttered home. And it robs us psychologically, by stealing our ability to feel motivated in our space.

I couldn't agree more- after awhile it starts to take psychic bites our of your soul. I read the book, The Alchemist, a couple weeks ago and when I sat down to journal about it a few days later I realized that I had "lost myself" so to speak, and couldn't even remember what my dreams were. It might sound weird but I have literally gotten lost in all of the excessive clutter in my home. I don't work well in a messy environment. Even when I cook, I usually do all the dishes first and straighten up my workspace.

Not only do we need to show the house but I also want to get all this done before the baby is born because I know it's not gonna happen then. I guess it just started to feel completely overwhelming. Being the firstborn perfectionist that I am, it's even worse.

The only thing I wrote for a journal entry yesterday was:
"How do you eat an elephant?
One bite at a time."

Now I need to go get rid of 100 things and peg that newspaper boy with a BB gun.

+ -

2009-08-18T20:44:00.000-07:00

"It was the best of times and the worst of times."

I cannot improve upon the eloquence of Charles Dickens. He has summed up my life in that one sentence.

I feel like I am standing on the edge of a cliff and I can't go backwards- I can only go forwards and I don't want to. Normally, when someone stands on the edge of the Grand Canyon they oooh and ahhh over it's majestic beauty and sheer size. I have been walking along the edge for days now and have reached the conclusion that the only way to get across is to climb down one side and up the other. I am absolutely filled with trepidation and despair at the thought of such a huge undertaking. I don't have a mule; I'm 7 months pregnant; and it's dang hot out there. It's me and my 1 liter Camelback.

Life itself is OK. Or maybe I'm in denial.

-The girls are healthy and so am I.
-I have health insurance and a good doctor/midwife.
-We have food and shelter.
-The community garden is huge and we can go pick things from it every day.
-We have supportive family and friends.

And then the parts I am trying to ignore:
-We are beginning the process of short-selling our house.
-We need to reduce the volume of stuff we own by at least half and it is in a giant jumble in our room and in the garage.
-My dear husband is facing medical problems with no stinking health insurance.
-We don't have enough income to cover everything and haven't for months.
-When we move out of this house we might be living in an RV.
-Oh yeah, and the Jeep's transmission konked out.

I don't even want to get out of bed in the mornings. And no, I don't want to hear about how much tougher some orphan in Rwanda has it; or the fact that thousands of others in our country are facing similar things. That trick isn't working right now.
I'm not gonna lie to you - the past couple years have been rough and I am tired. The towers of doom stacked in my garage are sucking the life out of me and I want them gone. It's like a vampire cave out there.

Hope your year is going better than mine.

The Doctrine of Heebie-Jeebies

2009-08-04T23:44:00.000-07:00

I was talking to someone about a church "denomination" recently and they expressed the hope that it was "fundamental holiness" in doctrine. This is the doctrine that I grew up with and still that of the person I was conversing with. I had never referred to it as such so it took me a few minutes to compute the meaning of those words.

Those two words: fundamental and holiness make my skin crawl.

Lord knows I've tripped over enough fundamentals to last me a lifetime. As for holiness, well that's just another way of saying that the doctrine is "works-driven". As in, "work out your salvation in fear and trembling." While I agree with the Apostle James that, "faith without works is dead," I tend to view that sentiment as another way of saying that actions speak louder than words when it comes to claiming faith. What I remember from my childhood church years is not so much actions based on faith but rather judging of others based on principles of faith. If there is one thing that I have utter contempt for among humans it is when principles are valued over people.

The phrase "they should know better" seemed to come up a lot in conversation when I was growing up. Even today I judge myself when I make mistakes based on the fact that I "should know better." It is a graceless existence and, no doubt, has fueled the depression that I often struggle with. Worse is when I extend this graceless viewpoint to others because "they should know better" too. Then I really feel miserable. How the heck do I know if they should know better or not? Maybe they sincerely do not know know better!

As holocaust survivor and Christ-follower, Corrie ten Boom once said, "If you look at the world, you'll be distressed. If you look within, you'll be depressed. but if you look at Christ, you'll be at rest!" Why? Because Jesus offers grace and forgiveness not a pile of guilt and shame. "Holiness" doctrine or not we simply cannot EVER measure up to be on God's level. No one can. Not even Billy Graham. God offers the hope that, in spite of our struggles and failures He can and He will make it right in our lives and best of all, He does not need our help in order to do so, just our permission and admittance as to where we went wrong. Sure, sometimes we have to actually do something more than just saying we are sorry - we have to make reparations to others because it shows that we love and respect them and that has everything to do with faith and love.

I'm sure someone can point out to me where I am wrong and should know better about the "fundamental holiness" movement - I'm just calling it like I've seen it. Moreover, I have no desire to join back up with that particular movement after the dozens of self-help books I've invested in and read trying to get that particular thorn out of my side.

VeganSchmegan

2009-08-04T23:38:00.000-07:00

So much for saving my soul by becoming vegan. I'm sure that some manage to be vegan while pregnant but I am just too dang hungry to make it happen. Being vegan requires a lot of practice and discipline - it's a total life change. I will go back to it I'm sure but not right now.
Guess I'll have to hold off on wearing that plantasaur t-shirt, aye?

Boy or Girl?

2009-05-12T19:43:00.000-07:00

We went in for a check-up today but no amnio yet or ultrasound. Hopefully in a few weeks we will know if it's a boy or a girl. We will also know if he or she will be a card-carrying member of the ARC . Not that there's anything wrong with that! I just want to know ahead of time. :o)

So, what do you think:
for a boy: Kelikoa'elakauaikekai (rain sparkling on the sea)
for a girl: Uakinimakalehua (rain of countless lehua blossom faces)

mmm hmm... Can I get an Amen?

2009-05-07T01:08:00.000-07:00

Dreaming
I was thinking/praying for a friend half-asleep or maybe mostly asleep
when I found myself
in a black gospel choir
Now, I've heard of speaking in tongues
but this,
this was something else altogether:

"My sista needs help!"
"mmm hmm"
"Can I get an amen?"
"Yes, God, I know you can help her!"
"Hallelujah! Amen!"
"She needs a job real bad, God!"
echo: "She needs a job real bad,God."
"I know that you can hear me, God!"
"Yes, we know that You can hear us, God!"
"You're the God of miracles and we're asking for your help."
"Amen! Hal-le-lu-jah, Jesus!"

It was beautiful

Guess It All Depends...

2009-05-06T22:03:00.000-07:00

We went to the doc last month for our first pregnancy check-up.

The doc asked if I wanted to have an amniocentesis performed because of my age. Because, she pointed out, "you will be 38 when the baby is born." At least she didn't say, "because of your advanced age," like my friend's doctor said to her.

I will probably get the amnio because I would rather be prepared than stunned, if there is something that I would have rather known ahead of time.

The whole thing cracked me up though. I guess 38 is pretty old.
"Now, going to the movies, that'll be economical: one child, two seniors, thanks." -George Banks (Father of the Bride II)

Do I want an amnio?

I dunno, do I also get a free pack of adult diapers when the baby is born in the likely event that I will crap my pants due to my advanced age?

That's really not a bad idea; a lot of women have that problem.

I think I will put those on the baby registry. Does Target carry those? Maybe someone will make me a diaper cake made of Depends cause I already have cloth diapers for the kid.

Born Again Vegan?

2009-05-06T14:56:00.000-07:00

It's back to the plant-based diet for me.... and the fam. Well, so the man of the house won't be entirely converted but he will eat plant-based stuff at home. At least he's willing to do that! Which is doing a lot, I think! I secretly hope that he isn't out there gorging on giant platters of meat topped with cheese when I'm not around. He's the type who orders a double-stuffed burger... "Oh and can I get a salad instead of fries, with the dressing on the side?" Yes, I have seen him do this. It's quite comical. After I told him that fries were the devil (because of the carcinogens in deep fried foods) he quit ordering them.

"Let me tell you something, Toula. The man is the head, but the woman is the neck. And she can turn the head any way she wants." - Maria Portokalos (My Big Fat Greek Wedding)

Don't doubt it; I have influence.

I've decided that I'm not gonna call myself a Vegan anymore though. Maybe a Plantasaurous? Calling yourself a Vegan is like calling yourself a Christian - you might as well just tack a "wacko" sign to your forehead! How about Jesus-Follower/Plantasaurous? See, I'm not a crazy animal rights activist like those vegans are - you know: those who secretly think humans should be banned from the earth so that the nice animals can take over. Let's not eat any of the sweet cuddly animals, let's just let them overpopulate the earth and eat us. Makes sense, right?

After reading the book, The China Study, a person would have to be obtuse not to change their diet.... unless he, or she, actually likes cancer, obesity, heart problems, diabetes, adult diapers - to name a few. Yeah, it's tough to ditch the John Wayne stereotype that meat and potatoes make you a healthy red-blooded American but egads... all this food hasn't improved the health of anyone. People are still dropping like flies out there or devouring mounds of cash for all the medical procedures necessary to maintain their life forces. Some people would rather pop pills or get cut open than change their diet. We in America tend to get diseases that are known as "diseases of affluence". What does that tell you? I had a Japanese roommate who put on at least 15 lbs. within 6 months of moving to the US because she started eating the American college kid diet: hamburgers & pizza.

Yes, I do sound like a zealot for health because I am. And, NO I don't want to change your diaper when you have a stroke. Change your dang diet. Really, if you are a big fat hippo don't be knockin' on my door asking for cash to fund your freakin' gastric bypass surgery. Oh, do you want fries with that?

I'm not saying that I want to live forever but I do want the quality of my life in later years to be high. Of course, many people equate eating whatever they want to quality of life. All I'm saying is that I ain't changing those peeps poopy pants when that plan doesn't work out. Hope they buy a case of diaper rash ointment or get a colostomy bag. Better yet, I will offer to drop them off in the wilds of Idaho where I hear there is a thriving wolf population. "Nice doggie. Now doggie,down, doggie! Please don't eat me. HELP! AAAAAAAAAH!" crunch, crunch, rip, rip, growl

Seriously, at least check out The China Study website even if you don't read the book. It's fascinating research! Maybe you will at least consider eating more plants. Unless you're a fruitarian.
"Gosh, poor carrots!" (Notting Hill)

Tough.

2009-04-16T22:19:00.000-07:00

We've had a chance to regroup this past week - the pastor and I - and we may be experiencing a brighter picture soon. Or at least a lighter load. Suffice it to say, times are tough, money doesn't grow on trees, and tough times never last but tough people do. How's that for some pure cheese? Gotta love it!

All I know is that is it good to have friends who can step into the fray and help point you in a different direction. Like my friend who said she was going to kick my ass if I didn't seek some help for depression back when I needed it. That was a good direction.
There weren't any threats of ass-kicking this time but there were some intelligent words and helpful insights shared by this friend over the past week while we were on "retreat".

You mean the sky isn't falling?

Questions

2009-03-30T15:46:00.000-07:00

I guess I haven't had much to say lately. Maybe there are enough blabbering bloggers out there who've said it all. I dunno. It probably has more to do with the fact that Life has presented some challenges lately. For instance:

Exactly how long is the grace period on paying your bills before you find yourself living "off the grid" but not on purpose?

If you sell the good car, but the less-good car has bad brakes, how many kids can you fit on a bike? And can you still buy giant boxes of cereal at Costco and fit them on the bike too?

What if no one wants to buy either car?

At what point should you move in with your family members who also live in town or vice-versa? Or would it be better to live in a tenement on wheels?

How fast can you get lettuce to grow in your kitchen window?

Good questions, all, and for once I do not have all the answers.

Radical Honesty Policy

2009-02-05T23:30:00.000-08:00

If you've been watching the new show Lie to Me, maybe you're as fascinated as I am. Honestly, how can I get a job at the Lightman Institute? Seriously though, I actually have a copy of a book on handwriting analysis and now this show comes along about how the truth is always revealed on our faces in some form or another; handwriting analysis is much the same. If I could possess the skills to read both I would be some sort of superhero. Like, totally.

One of the characters on the show has this policy of being radically honest at all times. Apparently, fear of rejection is not as high on his list as it is on most people's. It does help when one is a fictional character. I find his honesty to be delightfully endearing in a proverbial sense: Faithful are the wounds of a friend, But the kisses of an enemy are deceitful. (Proverbs 27:6) Sure, there are other verses that talk about "love covering a multitude of sins" but I think that has more to do with forgiveness and a desire to honor others than it has to do with talking straight about things that need to be said. My best friends are people who talk straight, usually. The small percentage of the time that they are not 100% honest has more to do with grace than with deceit.

Since I do harbor at least some fear of rejection, alas I am not a fully integrated superhero yet. That fear lessens by the year (which explains why old men can wear white shoes and plaid polyester slacks) so by the time I'm 93 I will be ready to kick butts from here to Sri Lanka. If I watch all the episodes of Lie to Me perhaps I will be permitted an honorary degree as a facial cues scientist. Do you need a degree to be a superhero?

Crazy Auntie Will Mow Down Thieves!

2009-01-25T18:44:00.000-08:00

Somebody Stole my Auntie's Christmas Lights!!

Theft of tropical holiday display a deep personal loss for family

Leilani Sigeske is hoping for the return of Hawaiian-themed items she hoped would cheer up her Irvine neighborhood.

By SEAN EMERY

The Orange County Register

IRVINE – Leilani Sigeske had hoped her Hawaiian-themed holiday display would spread the good cheer the deeply personal decorations had brought to her darkest times.

But those hopes were dashed with the recent theft of several 6-foot tiki god statues, pink flamingos and plastic fish from the Sigeske's front lawn.

Now, the family is left wondering why a display meant to bring laughter in the midst of a dreary economic time became a target for thieves.

The Sigeske's have adorned the lawn of their Northwood home with what Leilani described as "silly" decorations for several years, but this season's display seemed to hit a chord with the neighbors, she said.

"This year really sucks for a lot of people and we really thought we were doing something good for the neighborhood," Sigeske said. "People actually came over with food thanking me for putting up the display."

Drawing heavily from her own Hawaiian heritage, Sigeske avoided the traditional "winter wonderland" themes of many holiday displays, instead creating a tropical paradise complete with palm trees swaying in the wind, lighted sea creatures, a fire-breathing dragon wearing a Santa hat, a Hula Girl and the ever-present tiki gods. Anchoring the display were signs reading "Mele Kalikimaka," Hawaiian for "Merry Christmas."

Many of the items, including those stolen, had an intensely personal connection for the Sigeskes. Bill bought them to cheer up Leilani, who suffers from Lupus, during several serious health scares.

"I was so sick, and he would come back home with this stupid item that made me laugh so much," Sigeske said. "They were in the family for years, and I would look at them and think about how I almost died. But no matter how bad I felt it always made me laugh."

The theft apparently took place during the evening hours of Dec. 19, Sigeske said. While no one got a look at the suspects, several neighbors reported hearing a truck pull up in front of the house.

Due to the size of the decorations, particularly the tiki gods, she believes several people must have taken part in the theft.

The family kept the rest of the display up for a week, hoping that the thieves would return the stolen items. But, nothing has yet been returned, and they plan to finally take down the rest of the tropical decorations this week.

Despite the setback, Sigeske vows that they will put the display back up next year, no matter what.

"I'm going to sit out there with a shotgun and mow down anything that slows down," she joked.

She also offered her own warning to the thieves about the karmic dangers of their actions.

"You do not take a tiki god, because it is bad luck. It is like sacrilegious in the Hawaiian culture," Sigeske said. "They should have taken anything else."

Anyone with information about the stolen items can call the Irvine police at 949-724-7000.

Compare and Despair

2008-12-28T19:29:00.000-08:00

Was just checking my email - finally - and got one of those update letters that sounds like some sort of braggadocious "I'm almost as awesome as Mother Teresa" type deals:

"We're saving the souls of shop-a-holic desperate housewives;
We're rescuing all the dudes living in vans down by the river;
We're hand-quilting baby blankets made from used training pants and burlap coffee sacks and sending them to naked heathens in the tropics;
We're leaving tracts about Jesus in every public bathroom in our city;
In short, we are the wonder-children of our town and our mom has the bumper sticker to prove it!

Well, I am not doing any of that stuff but I did, in my shallow way, add red and blue streaks to my hair. I wonder if that counts as doing a good deed so that my stylist could afford Christmas presents? But seriously, I got depressed for a minute reading the "top 10 good deeds list" in that email. You know how it is - you start thinking that you've got to be a superstar too - next thing you know, you're face-down in a vat of red wine singing UB40 songs.

Then I came to my senses and thought, "Feeling like an inadequate failure in comparison to those guys is stupid. Now I'm going to go look at cupcake blogs and feel happy: Yay! Cupcakes!! so there."

I might even make some tomorrow and give a couple to a dude who lives in a van down by the river. Maybe I should throw in a bobble-head Jesus for his dashboard and one of those "Christian" t-shirts, like the orange one that says, "Jesus' Pieces".

All I know is that if my cupcakes don't turn out like the pictures in my cookbook I am really going to be pissed.

Christmas Music: CENSORED!!

2008-11-30T20:41:00.000-08:00

Oh boy! It's December and time for the annual slide down into holiday insanity. I am one of those geeks who listens to the all-Christmas-music radio station and I have a few tips as to how to make the holiday season better:

No really, I can't even tell you how much better radio would be without these songs:

* Same Old Lang Syne" by: Dan Fogelberg - You know the one:
"Met my old lover in the grocery store
The snow was falling Christmas Eve
I stole behind her in the frozen foods
And I touched her on the sleeve..."

In my opinion this song should never be played again. It should be given a closed-casket ceremony and laid to eternal rest.

* Absolutely no Mannheim Steamroller. None. That cheesy synthesizer music belongs in a pink padded cell in the 70's, 80's, 90's and so forth.

* "Where Are You Christmas?" This song is OK when Cindy Lou Who sings it on the Grinch but when that grown lady sings it (you know who you are, Faith Hill) it's like, "SHUT UP and get some freakin' prozac already, woman!!"

* This is more of a personal preference but can we limit the number of Beach Boys tunes that are being played?

* Don't forget about WHAM!: George Michael belting out "Last Christmas I gave her my heart..." Spare us. Keep a blog instead, dude.

No offense Delilah and John Tesh but I'm just gonna have to change the station when that stuff is being played. I can't afford to up the dosage on my meds so turn that racket down!
Love your show!

Delilah, that is.

John, "qwerty tummy?" For reals?

Top 10 Reasons to Become a VEGAN

2008-11-13T22:10:00.000-08:00

1. No more handling raw meat! YAY!

2. Losing weight. (so I hear!)

3. It can get your blood sugar levels back to normal and reduce high
cholesterol, to mention a few health benefits.

4. You get to try out a whole bunch of yummy new recipes.

5. You get to use all kinds of weird food items that you've never used before:
kombu, mellow miso paste, kudzu, egg replacer, nori, tempeh, amaranth,
shoyu, mochi, tamari paste... oh boy!

6. You get to eat salad and bread for breakfast when you forget to bring your
own darn food when eating out.

7. People admire your dedication and tenacity (secretly they think you are
whacked!).

8. Did I mention the hummus is homemade? More beans?

9. The rest of your family gets food poisoning from bad burritos and you don't.
(if only you could get off barf clean-up duty!)

10. It's subversive. I'm all about that!

2008-06-12T16:49:00.000-07:00

Gone for summer vacation -
see ya when the weather gets cold again!!!

Sticks and Stones

2008-06-10T22:09:00.000-07:00

Today I was thinking about how Jesus called the religious nutballs some pretty harsh names: brood of vipers, hypocrites, white-washed sepulchers (fancy mausoleums full of smelly rotten corpses; in other words, you look good on the outside but inside you are putrefied). I had to laugh when I thought about the names Jesus called people. He didn't say they were like vipers He said they were vipers. Remember, snakes were associated with e-vil. In modern day SNL speak Jesus might sound like Mike Myers calling someone the dev-il.

All of this got me thinking: we are supposed to be imitators of Christ. So when do we get to start calling people names like He did? Mark Driscoll rips on people who talk about Jesus like He was some lily-livered diaper-wearing pansy. For sure, those pale-skinned blue-eyed Jesus pictures are retarded.

I'm not going anywhere with this train of thought. No "Deep Thoughts" here. Just don't be surprised if I jump up on a chair someday and tell it like it is to a few folks.

So git yer ugly, yella, no-good kiester off my property before I pump yer guts full of lead!!

Woof

2008-05-03T14:22:00.000-07:00

Finally the barf-fest is over and the subsequent cough and cold-fest!

For some crazy reason we decided to adopt a stray dog. Of all the oddball breeds he is a Redbone Coonhound like the dogs in Where the Red Fern Grows. He is a friendly and easy going dog but he can't seem to understand that defecation on the carpet is unacceptable. Back to that putrescence word, eh? He also chews through leashes and other stuff in a matter of seconds. I've been working with him on doggie obedience. We are training him with voice commands as well as hand signs. The other night when it was bedtime for the little girls I gave my two-year old the command and hand sign for "lie down". She followed suit. Awesome!! So, in order to make my life less stressful I will be training all three of them the same way. Who says you can't teach little kids new tricks?! Whining? No problem! Do you three want to go out in the kennel/dog run or would you like to play dead? Bored? You can either go play ball or chew on some rawhide. Don't want to relieve yourself in the right place? I suggest that you don't urinate where you sleep. Want to sleep in my bed? No way! It's your bed or the floor! See, it's all about keeping the choices simple.

Now I gotta go replace the Gentle Leader head collar that he chewed up.
I'll try to get a photo of him to post soon. He is very cute even if he is dumber than a box of hair.

Queen of Refuse

2008-04-04T12:25:00.000-07:00

This place is brimming in vomit and other forms of nastiness. The washer has been going for days though I am doubtful of its germ warfare capabilities.
Of course I have the dread illness as does everyone else in the house. It really ticks me off because I still have to drag my sorry carcass around the house cleaning up all the ka-ka. It’s like battling the R.O.U.S.es in the Fire Swamp.

Meanwhile, the other adult in the house gets to go back to work in the outer world where he is expected neither to wipe people’s butts nor clean the privy after they are done using it. All this while I am trying to cram in a self-directed study of Early Childhood Education, Phonics, Classical Education & How to Keep the Home Organized While Teaching at Home. There have been moments when I’ve thought that what I’m doing at home as a mother is not important. (Shame on me!) Now that I am finally beginning to catch my stride I challenge anyone to get their regular job done and manage children at the same time. (Unless they are a teacher) I don’t have a personal assistant. I don’t have a bookkeeper or a management team. I don’t even have a team of volunteers. I do have some help with house cleaning and that was a step in the right direction.

Sometimes you just need an epic tale to lift your spirits and remind you that there are worse things out there than copious amounts of puke and potty chairs filled with stinky goo. There’s no shortage of worse things out there as we all know.

So I am finding inspiration from an old classic: The Princess Bride.

Nestled among its clever script are such gems as:

“Life is pain. Anyone who says otherwise is selling something.”

“Get some rest. After all, if you don’t have your health, you don’t have anything.”

“So Bow to her… Bow to the queen of slime, the queen of rubbish, the queen of putrescence…”

Voting, Schmoting: Who to Vote For & Why

2008-03-25T22:44:00.000-07:00

Some of need a little help when it comes to voting. For instance, many people do not have time to listen to all the political speeches or to do research on every candidate. Further, how can we be sure that what we are reading is accurate? We know that every candidate has speech-writers and spin-doctors. This makes it very difficult to separate truth from fiction. So, I've decided to help everyone out by telling you who I am voting for and why. If you want to vote for this person, I guarantee that if he gets into office he will not mess things up any more than they already are. In fact, I feel quite certain that things will improve under his direction.

What I want in a leader is: Integrity, Wisdom, Maturity, Experience, Compassion, Love, Strength & Humor. (sounds like an ad for e-harmony) While this is not an exhaustive list, these are the most important qualities.

I happen to know two men who fit the bill. Either one of them will do a cracker-jack job of running this country which is more than I can say for any of the current candidates. These men possess all of the above character traits as individuals. If one could be President, and the other Vice President, that would be even better. Between the two of them, one has served our country in the military; the other has vast experience overseas and is fluent in several languages. One has run several successful businesses of his own. The other has served in high-ranking positions within the organization that he works under. Both have spent time teaching and counseling. Both men are respected within their communities and have put in hours of volunteer work with people of all ages. Both men are straightforward and honest. Both are adept at managing conflict and mediation. Both are highly intelligent, self-motivated, hard-working individuals.

In short, I believe that we should all vote for these two men. You can write it in on your ballot:

VOTE FOR DAD!

SMACKDOWN!

2008-03-22T11:24:00.000-07:00

My kid hit her teacher a couple days ago.
Smacked her.

I'm not gonna lie to you - I was fairly dismayed when the "Children's Director" pulled me aside to inform me of my child's misdeed. (I go to a non denominational Bible study where they have a children's program)

Now, I have not gone out of my way to give people the whole low-down on being a pastor's wife - and I think all of you know by now how I feel about that whole issue. So it wouldn't surprise me if someone had a few snarky things to say about the hellions on wheels that PK's (pastor's kids) can be. **I love it! Do you see that?! They are called pastor's kids, not pastor's wives kids! what a delightful discovery just now!**

Well, I've been a goody-two-shoes PK and a hellacious MK (missionary kid) and I can tell you that it only gets worse in proportion to the amount of preachy religious people that a kid has to put up with but doesn't know enough to tune them out. A few of my pals and I took to chain smoking down by the river (literally) although not in a van as in Chris Farley's SNL skit. (Having the van would’ve made all the difference!) We also took to writing heinous poems about hell and suicide. That was some of my very worst writing. How original is the F--- word after its fiftieth time in verse? I know, I know, the angst of it all.

This was not the first time that my child has created a disturbance in her class but it was the first time that she hit someone. Apparently it's "the first time this had ever happened" (that a kid hit a teacher there). I'm wondering if that should go in the scrapbook under "Firsts"?
Since it was a first, the nice director lady asked,
"What do you want us to do?"

You're asking me??

"Enforce some consequences? Like a time-out?" I ventured, uncertain if this was her polite way of saying, "We're not sure we want your kid here."

Spank her in front of the whole class? (That actually happened to me and now I cannot do math as a result)
Smack her back?

So, being the decent parent that I am, I had a good chat with the child, asking her what happened and what she could have done differently and how did she think the teacher felt about being hit and was she ready to apologize? I also mentioned that being mad doesn't give her the right to hurt people or misbehave. She felt badly about it and apologized to the teacher. Later we talked about things some more and she said that she hit the teacher because she didn't want to be there. I informed her that not being there wasn't one of her options and that she was going to have to find a way to make it work. Far be it from me to allow my child to think she can dis authority figures even if I may not agree with their methodology. I was a pathetic people pleaser as a child so I am relieved to have a child who stands up for herself and speaks her mind even though it comes across poorly at the age of 4 3/4. She is no pushover with children or adults and that is a good thing so long as it can be properly channeled.

I told her Dad what happened and he laughed, not surprisingly, since he is the type who cheers for the underdog. He said that he hit his 1st grade teacher.
Only she smacked him back.

Bubbicious

2008-03-22T11:00:00.000-07:00

Getting away from the Christian bubble is so liberating. I have to say, I hope never to return to said place except for brief visits to those still inside. I don't belong there anymore and every step I've taken to get out has opened up more and more freedom. There are so many things that bubble-dwellers make issues of that simply do not matter outside of the bubble. Now that I am out I find it amazingly depressing how bound up I felt in there and how little interest I had in anyone's life who was "on the outside". I say "depressing" because there are so many who are still stuck in there struggling with the same things that I struggled with. Wow, did I have my head in the sand, to use a well-worn cliche. I have been doing better. I am still struggling on and off with depression but also sensing that it's hold has been progressively lessening. Even now I don't know all of the causes but I think there have been a myriad of factors involved which seems reasonable to me.

Having unrealistic expectations has been one of the causes; both my own and those belonging to others. When we first jumped into this venture some one who goes to our former church was talking with me and informed me that "being a senior pastor's wife is a lot different than being a high school pastor's wife" (not that this person had been either one, ironically) Anyway, this person's near-lecture seemed to be more about keeping up appearances that about caring for others. Nonetheless, it was like a bitter pill that gets lodged in the throat and did nothing to arm me for what was to come. I allowed myself to fall into a trap of being anxious about those type of things for quite some time after our arrival in our new town: Will people think I'm a good parent even though I scream at my kids sometimes? What if I don't know how to help this person who is in front of me? What if someone I know sees me drinking a glass of wine with dinner? And on and on it went. The truth is, the person who said all that stuff to me is a fearful person who hasn't been able to let go of unrealistic expectations when it comes to "being in leadership". I am a real person with real issues and I'll be danged if I am going to suffer alone in those. At a team meeting I went off about something that is an issue in my life and just being able to admit that I can be a jerk about some things is a good thing for me because I have spent my whole life trying to be good and hiding all my stuff because I thought I was supposed to be this spiritually mature person. I tried to make that happen in my life by following all those asinine how-to steps that people fueling the Christian machine like to pump out. You know, like "Five Steps to Knowing God Better" and other stupid sermon or book titles. How about a sermon titled "Keeping Up Appearances and other Horse s---"?!

I went from pastor's kid to missionary kid and it only went from bad to worse because it seemed like the stakes kept getting higher. Now here I am, a "senior pastor's wife" (gag me, like, totally with that title) and if I can't be authentic than I don't want to be at all. I couldn't take the whole stupid leadership persona any more - it was killing me. I don't have all the answers and there is no one who does. As for being in leadership, we are equally important in the "body". Leaders only exist to help bring continuity to what is going on within the body and to help facilitate spiritual growth. There is nothing special about leaders beyond that. I have been doing well, l and feel more like a real person than I have in years.

Now more than ever I think that delving into one's doubts is the best place to begin when it comes to one's faith. If I don't ask the hard questions then how will my faith ever be called into account? Blind faith seems illogical to me. Even Jesus said to count the cost before choosing to follow Him. That, to me, says that He knows we have questions as well as brains. He wasn't some cheese-ball salesman so why should we behave that way when it comes to our faith?

There are plenty of Christians who get really irritated by those who express doubts and tend to offer reproach. It seems like a lot of these people are motivated by fear - perhaps because their own faith has never been called into account. It's easier just to follow a formulaic approach than it is to ask whether or not God is real and if He's worth following. Is He worth following? Only if He is real. How do I know He is real? I keep asking Him to reveal Himself to me. How will I reach the maturity level of the apostle Paul unless I am first convinced that God is real? It isn't possible! Paul staked his life on the fact that he knew God was real. Paul had a personal experience with Christ that changed his entire outlook.
Sure, people might ask, "Well how long are you going to keep asking if God is real; at some point you just have to believe!!"
"I will keep asking God as long as it takes." That is my response.
No, I don't have to just believe. That is foolish and naive. People who "just believe" are people who join pyramid schemes and cults and drink the Kool-Aid given to them. God is OK with me asking questions in order to try to gain more understanding. It's like a four-year old who is constantly asking, "Why?" Four-year olds don't ask questions to be annoying, they ask questions because they want to understand the world around them and to understand their place in that world. Do we expect a four-year old to know how to drive a car? No, we expect that they barely know how to wipe themselves after using the toilet. The difference is, most four-year olds do not have a problem admitting that they need help wiping whereas many of us would like to pretend that we possess the skill when, in fact, we need help wiping also. At some point there are the inevitable skid-marks on the ole under-roos and the evidence of our inability is undeniable.

Pride, fear, pretense, self-absorption, lusts, contempt - these are the spiritual silicone parts that we add on until our true selves become unrecognizable. They become the ties that bind. "Therefore... let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. ....Therefore strengthen the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be dislocated, but rather be healed. " (Hebrews 12:1,2,12)

I want to see the bubble filled with that kind of wisdom; especially my own bubble.

light.

2008-03-08T20:20:00.000-08:00

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be?"
–Nelson Mandela

It's easy to be "nobody". I struggle with nobody-ness all the time because I am afraid of the ramifications and responsibilities of being somebody. I want to know my true self; the self that God created me to be. And then I want to be that person. I suppose it is my mistake to think that is a destination where I can arrive... someday.

What am I passionate about? What are my strengths? What are my talents and gifts? What is the life that I hope to create?

There are a lot of things that I want to do but the real question is: Who do I want to be?

What is the light that frightens me? What will happen if I embrace it?

Happy Hour

2008-02-13T19:18:00.000-08:00

It's Valentine's Day already. Seriously, I live on Hawaiian Time but it doesn't seem to matter because Regular-People-Time just keeps flying by. Why can't I just hang loose while the rest of my countrymen scurry around like rats on a wheel? Who needs all the stupid deadlines and timetables anyway? Once I am stopped up in an urn I'm not gonna care that I made it to the church on time or anywhere else for that matter. I mean, who eulogizes about how dear Josephine was the most punctual person she'd ever met and it really touched her how on-time Josephine always was? Really now. Old Josephine was a real stickler about being punctual. That is the wry truth that everyone will bemoan. Secretly they are all glad that the old nag is pushing up daisies because now she can't make them all feel harried and rushed and guilt-ridden.

Every time I go to write a serious post on here I am seized by boredom of all such things. I don't want to yammer on and on about faith, churchy stuff and depression. Sometimes I feel like I eat, breathe and sleep such things and I will scream if I have to hear another dumb conversation about it. For Pete's sake, just live it already or shut-up. What good is empty philosophy to the rest of us? It's like my friend's friend who claims self-absorption like it's a disease that he, or she, catches from time to time.
"Duh...sorry I haven't called in, like, a month... I caught a bad case of self-absorption and couldn't make it to the phone..." The funny thing is, I've been there. It's so dang easy to live in a microcosm of self. I had to laugh when I heard the charming yet idiotic message that this person left on my friend's phone about the whole thing.

I think I am going to start another blog about the more humorous things in life. We could all use a little more humor, right?

So what's humorous right now? Well, for starters my two-year old looks like a Kewpie doll. That's funny.

Another funny sight is my four-year old wearing only tights and a turtleneck: the crotch on the tights is sagging way down by her knees. Plus she is wiping snot on her sleeve. I wish I could get away with such things.

Thirdly, some girlfriend's and I went out for Happy Hour and they were regaled with tales about the truth about childbirth and it's after effects by the two of us who've been through it. Can anyone say, "Oops, I crapped my pants?" (a skit from SNL) with a straight face? It's probably funnier after a few sips of a beverage. (It doesn't take much, trust me)

The fact that I'm even writing any of this is funny because there is probably someone out there who doesn't think it's funny at all and they are going to blow the alleged whistle on me. That's funny.

"You be an optimist, I'll be a realist!"

2007-12-23T18:36:00.000-08:00

"No pessimist ever discovered the secret of the stars or sailed an uncharted land, or opened a new doorway for the human spirit."
~ Helen Keller

Yeah so I said that I was going to get back to where I am with J.C. and still haven't. I will, I will, just not today. We don't even have our tree decorated for Pete's sake.

A friend posted something funny so I thought I would relay it to you. There is a website called despair.com, which does not surprise me considering the Gen X perpetual state of angst - rage against the machine, stick it to the man - not to mention the turmoil that the world is in nowadays. My fave so far is the mug that reads, "this glass is now half-empty". Suh-weet! Maybe I will get myself one except that I have enough junk already and that in and of itself causes me to despair.

I hate that stupid glass half-full analogy with a passion. The glass is half-full? Who says that? No one that I know! Not unless they read Norman Vincent Peale, Zig Ziglar, Robert Schuller and listen to their tapes. kooky. Your head is half-full is what I'd like to say! I'd tell you what else is half-full but I am a lady so I won't mention it here. (whatever that means!) My diaper pail is half-full, does that count? It reeks enough to be all the way full.

Now that I am on "serious drugs" as my Auntie Leilani likes to call her meds, I'm thinking that I shall become one of those dang Pollyanna types. ha ha ha I love Pollyanna though. She is a cool kid. My friend likes to tease me by saying that I am the crabby hypochondriac woman on Pollyanna who told Pollyanna that she was an impertinent child. This friend of mine can be a little obnoxious at times, as you can see, and I am not being negative, I am merely telling the truth. I love him anyway so that proves that I have a positive side. ha ha

In closing, I offer that whoever can tell me who said, "You be an optimist, I'll be a realist!" will win a prize. Maybe I'll send you a half-empty mug. Just tell me what you want it half-full of.

Not A Moment Too Soon!

2007-12-17T14:22:00.000-08:00

I know I left ya hanging and still have not been able to encapsulate my thoughts to write a decent post.

It's snowing outside! I love to watch snow falling; it's very soothing. I am rocking in my chair, needing the peacefulness of the setting. I hear Eeyore in the background, "I could use an umbrella to keep the snow off my house - not that it matters if I don't get one." My mental state, summed up by Eeyore's bleak outlook! After nearly two years of debilitating depression I finally asked my medical professional for anti-depressants, a move that I was sore afraid to make. But when a friend intervened, saying," This is me stamping my foot: I want you to call the Dr., and I want you to do it by Tuesday because I'm going to ask you to make sure that you've done it!" Well, I could hardly refuse without getting drop-kicked into the Dr's office so I made the phone call.
Another friend emails, urging me to call an acquaintance who is a counselor. My friend hopes that I don't mind her being bossy. Au contraire, it's high time that some steps toward progress were taken!
I will say, so far so good. The meds are working already; hopefully getting my thinking realigned will soon follow. It's true what they say about being able to take life on once the medication begins helping. It's amazing how hopeless a person can become when mired in deep depression.

Who knows?! I may even get some Christmas cards sent out to more than 20 people this year!

Radio Silence

2007-12-06T22:56:00.000-08:00

We apologize for the temporary lapse in our regular programming... the station seems to be experiencing technical difficulties... Please standby until further notice... Possible snowstorm and icy road conditions...

Lip Balm?

2007-10-18T12:45:00.000-07:00

It seems that I have made the transition from being "Pastor's Wife Barbie" to being a "Chatty-Cathy Doll". You know how it is - we go through those giant pendulum swings as we're working things out in our lives. I know there will be a middle ground one of these days.

We've been facing a tremendous amount of discouragement lately and it's been coming at us from many directions. I think that last Thurs. night was one of of our darkest. You know it's bad when not just one, but both of us, are discouraged at the same time. Yeah, not so good. We must have spent at least an hour last night praying: yelling at God; pleading with God; asking Him WHY?! and WHAT?! and WHO?! and most of all, HELP!?! HELP!! NO, REALLY, HELP!?! On that note, we went to bed.

At 7:30 AM, the phone rang and there was John B. - the head of the church-planting organization that we are under - speaking word after word of encouragement. Let me tell you, we were so parched that it felt like someone giving us water after we'd been dumped in the in the desert - much unlike Chevy Chase's character in The Three Amigos who only offered, "Lip balm?"

I feel like a cat in a bag these days, panic-stricken, pawing around in there trying to find the way out. When I was a kid, my sister and I slept downstairs on the hide-a-way bed, in our sleeping bags, due to the high wasp population upstairs in our rooms. We had these army surplus sleeping bags that were practically airtight. One night we were goofing around and I hid in the bottom of my bag and the opening of the bag somehow got folded underneath me. At first I just sort of felt my way around to get out but when I couldn't find the opening I began to panic. My super military quality sleeping bag did not have one of those little air holes in the bottom by the zipper - it zipped all the way to the end. And it was getting hot in there. It was stiflingly hot and I was freaking out. I was old enough to have some notions as to suffocation and death so I started yelling for help.
"Get me out of here! I can't get out! I'm stuck in here! Somebody please! I'm gonna suffocate to death! HELP!!!!" Finally one of my parents came and untangled the sleeping bag so that I could get out. My sister must have slept through it all or was too little to know how to help.

The remembrance of the sleeping bag distress came to me the other day because it parallels my life. In the past year and a half I've been realizing that I'm stuck in the bag and can't find my own way out. As I've reevaluated my priorities lately it's become apparent that I've run out of my own resources to excel within the various roles of my life. All of those roles, not just one or two of them. I can't magically make myself communicate better or resolve conflict more effectively; or parent with grace and humor that I do not possess. I need help finding my way out of the bag. Most of us come to these places in our lives sooner or later and it's very humbling. I happen to be a person who is very motivated to change, grow, and deal with things even though I also happen to be a person who struggles against high levels of negativity and perfectionism.

I can't run out on my family as much as I want to some days because I feel like a failure. I am not a failure but I get sucked into believing that when I have mere moments of failure. (Who knew?! I'm not perfect?!?) I am reminded that idols come in many forms and that many of us have some ugly gargoyles named "Feelings" that sit enshrined in special alcoves; we scrape and bow to them all throughout the day and we lend them the power to control our minds and actions, and we give them permission to set the mood in our very environments. Are we gonna do anything about it? If we need help will we ask for help? Will we admit that these are gods that we have brought into power - not someone else's gods?

For me, I have to seek the help I need so that I am equipped to make the changes that I need to make. In that I also have to differentiate between who is offering lip balm and who is offering water - on so many levels. It was not likely that I would die of suffocation in my sleeping bag and it's not likely now that I won't find my way out of whatever this is with some help - if I am willing to receive it, that is.

Next time, the latest on where Jesus and I are in all of this.

Here's to Handel - and My Life Coach

2007-10-12T21:17:00.000-07:00

So, I spoke with my personal Life Coach and she told me to quit being a martyr and to quit being involved in children's ministry. (Strains of the Hallelujah Chorus are playing in background) I picture Jeremy Piven (the actor) characteristically holding his head in his hands, looking up at John Cusack and shouting, "Man, you're like my oracle and s---!" (From the movie Serendipity) This is what this friend is to me, an oracle. We are that for each other - we are both oracles. My other "processing" friend is a healer. I'm into those old world terms lately.

Anyway, she walked me through a very logical process to find out who I really am and what I'm really called to. It boiled down to this: I am a Christ-follower, a wife, a mother, a homemaker, and when needed, a friend/relative. That's it. I am not called to anything else; I have no other openings at the current time, including children's ministry. (Again with the Hallelujah Chorus...) These are the specific things that I am called to at present. She asked me why I was trying to add more responsibilities beyond the ones God has already called me to. She told me that the things God has called me to are the same things forming the lens that I need to filter life's other stuff through: "If I add X,Y,Z is it going to make me a better wife, mother or homemaker? Will it fit anywhere into the existing picture without causing harm in those areas?"

It's amazing how a paradigm shift can create some breathing room. She may not realize it but I feel like she rolled a giant oxygen tank up into my space and now I am getting my color back. It makes me cry just thinking about it. She said a bunch of other stuff about boundaries and not being a whiner, and to you-know-where with the whole "pastor's wife" crap, as only a friend who really loves you can say.

Later that night I read some powerful words that a wise man said to his son, Ralph Moody, nearly a hundred years ago:

"You know, a man's life is a lot like a boat. If he keeps his sail set right it doesn't make too much difference which way the wind blows or which way the current flows. If he knows where he wants to go and keeps his sail trimmed carefully he'll come into the right port. But if he forgets to watch his sail till the current catches him broadside he's pretty apt to smash up on the rocks."

All I know is that I had a mouthful of gritty sand and that I was a long way off the course. Once I got my little boat off the rocks and back on course it was very apparent to me just how far off the course I had been. My boat must have been careening willy-nilly all over the lake, crashing into other water craft, dragging bottom across rocks and who knows what else.

As I focused my myopic eyes looking through my newfound lens I was disheartened to see the level of neglect in my "wifering", mothering and "householdering". Good thing I am married to a strong and independent individual with a sense of humor because he seems the most intact of the three.

As for the children, where is Nanny McPhee when you need her? It's like the children who live in our home have either lost their hearing a.k.a. Helen Keller's difficult early years; or they no longer speak English - seriously, "Do you not understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?!?" as Chris Rock hollered at Jackie Chan. It is also possible that they have become characters from the book "Lord of the Flies". Because of my sailboat detours, this week at our house has been Baby Boot Camp only I don't get to cuss anyone out or call them derogatory names to make them feel like certain kinds of ants. There is no barking, "Drop down and give me 50!!" You know, that would be waay easier than trying to discipline in love - hopefully including patience - along with the giving of encouraging words while trying to keep the lectures and yelling to a minimum (that's where the duct tape across my mouth comes in). The poor little tykes have needed a lot more direction than I had been giving them and it's been a long week for all of us. Those drill sergeants don't even know the meaning of boot camp. I now understand the words, "This hurts me more than it hurts you."

As for the home, it looks like a bunch of hogs live here - not that it's a new look or anything - but now I feel like I have permission to focus on some care and keeping of it instead of the bunch of frenetic add-on activities that I usually succumb to.

And last but not least, the following of Jesus. Well, we're working things out. I felt emboldened enough to asked Him the same question his cousin, John the Baptist, once asked of Him, and you'd think John would know his own cousin better than this, "Are you the Christ or should we look for another?"
True to form Jesus reminded me of His miraculous signs from then and now and asked,
"Who do you say that I am?"
So that's where He and I are at but that's a post for another late night.

Twist of Lemon with That?

2007-10-06T21:39:00.000-07:00

I wish I could say that I am the quintessential pastor's wife who is full of wisdom and grace and able to singlehandedly create - and lead - amazing ministries out of the miry clay. The truth lately is that I spend more time in the miry clay than I do outside of it.

I'm not gonna lie to you, my faith is on the rocks. Too bad "faith on the rocks" does not contain alcohol because at least that would numb my senses. It's not because of the miscarriage - I actually felt this way before that happened, although experiencing that loss did not help. Depression, compounded by grief, compounded by the relentless pressures of the church plant, compounded by emotional unhealth: in case you were wanting the recipe for the drink. If you mix it correctly it should come out in a perfect Barbie doll pink.

Basically my spiritual life isn't amazingly great and I don't want a bunch of moronic Christianese cliches as to how to "get back on track". I'm not off the track. I still think God is real but I am extremely frustrated with all of this crap and the feeling that I am missing something spiritually. The cliches only serve to infuriate me anyway. If there was a punching bag that spouted cliches I would have pulverized it by now. (If I were really honest I would include all the expletives that are involved in the alternate conversation in my head.)

"God is in control" *POW*
"This is all part of God's perfect plan." *WHAMMO*
"Let go and let God." *BLAM-BLAM-BLAM"

Yeah, whatever. None of those things mean anything to me. All the rotten things that happen in this world aren't part of God's plan. Why the hell would God's perfect plan include murder, rape, mutilation, abuse, war, AIDS, starvation, disease, and all the other hard or heinous things in this world? It's just bad theology to suggest such a thing. GOD IS GOOD NOT EVIL. God doesn't inflict evil things upon us to "teach us a lesson" or "build our character" - if He did that He would be abusive, not loving. People make choices to participate in some of these heinous acts and God is not in control of that; He allows humans to choose whatever they will. God is sovereign but that is another matter.

So what is my problem? I'm tired. I want to go live in a cabin in the woods for a month where I can be still and know that God is God. I often hear of others who go on pilgrimages to Buddhist monasteries or Ashrams and this seems like a good idea to me. (I know that I said hiding out in a monastery is cowardly in a previous blog. I am not contradicting myself. I am suggesting the value of going there for restoration purposes rather than to hide from life's problems for an indefinite amount of time like Sister Maria tried in The Sound of Music.) The closest thing we have in Christendom is a Catholic monastery; however, I am not Catholic and some of our beliefs would differ. Many churches host so-called retreats; I have yet to find any rest or restoration on one of these seminar-filled, activity-packed venues. Going to a cabin in the woods sounds more realistic since there ain't much else to choose from. Many Christians don't seem to value mystery or mystics much; a jam-packed seminar will keep our little minds off the greater mysteries of our existence. However, these mysteries have become a deafening part of my existence and there is no drowning them out. As I say to my husband, "I'm not a typical pastor's wife - I am the kooky-mystic-writer person who doesn't fit the profile and doesn't do any of the expected pastor's wife things." (This may be why I feel like a crazy person. What's with those perfect go-getters?!)

Jesus specifically talks about doing the impossible with God's power. How does that work exactly? And if my faith is too small will God make it bigger? I really want to know the answer to this question and my heart hurts for the not knowing. What about seeing people healed? What about my own healing? I have so many questions for God and some of them need answers here on earth, not just in the hereafter. There have been human beings who knew God on a whole other plane than the one that I am currently on and I need to be where they were in their understanding of God and in their relationship with Him.
What I really long for is restoration. I long to have a clear picture of the health vs. the unhealth in my life so that I can make better decisions. I am weary of making bad decisions based on guilt or pride or just plain pigheadedness and then hating my life because of it. Right now I am helping co-lead children's ministry. For anyone who knows me well, you know that this is neither a gift nor a passion area for me. I have never dreamed of doing this. I have never wanted to do this. I have dreaded doing this. So, basically, I am an idiot right now that I am even doing this and then wailing, "But if I don't do it who will?!" Doesn't exactly sound like a decision made by a healthy person, right? Maybe what's on the rocks is all of this cliched, guilt-inducing, perfect-pastor's wife nonsense that is ruining my life, not my faith. I dunno. It's hard to differentiate.

When life hands you lemons...
slice them up and garnish your drink with them.
Instead of the little umbrellas, serve with a Barbie head on a swizzler stick.

Being Present

2007-10-06T21:25:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think we suffer too much alone during these things and it sure does help to have friends and people who offer encouragement and love and prayers and it really doesn't matter if you are hundreds or thousands of miles away because I still feel your support somehow. The older (and hopefully, wiser) I get the more I want to reach out and be present for other people and have them be present for me. Hopefully this is a safe place.

A Grief Observed

2007-09-22T20:57:00.000-07:00

"I thought I could describe a state; make a map of sorrow. Sorrow, however, turns out to be not a state but a process." -C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

C.S. Lewis wrote these words in a book I will soon read because those few thoughts resonated with me. A friend of mine uses the word "process" in conjunction with the word grieving, as in "processing through it".

Where am I in the process?

Well, yesterday I felt very alone in the process. Not only that, I felt lost. I felt as though what had happened was a blip on the screen; life went on and we had to move forward in the pursuit of other happenings. Some of you know that our first "official" gathering for the church plant is this Sunday. Needless to say, life goes on whether you are ready for it to go on or not. In this case, I don't feel ready and instead feel rushed in my grieving to scurry ahead and to shelve my grief over the loss of our baby so that I can do all the things that I need to do on Sunday. In the past, this would include me being unnaturally cheerful and "strong" in the face of my circumstances. But, no, that is not who I am. Nor is it who I want to be. There are too many plastic people walking around out there with perky Barbie doll expressions that no one can relate to as it is. But guess what? I'm just finding out that most people don't relate to grief either. My "processing" friend observed that she had almost no one to walk with her through her own grief when a friend of their family died in a tragic accident that they witnessed. There was almost no one to talk it through with in the months afterwards and she struggled through much of it alone and feeling unheard.

Why is it that we have education up the wazoo - degrees, certificates, licenses - but when it comes to healthy communication skills, healthy conflict resolution skills, and healthy relating-to-others-and-engaging-in-their-lives-skills we are woefully unequipped??
Why are we so afraid of being present in the suffering of others? Why do we draw back when others shed tears or voice their hurts, or rage, or doubts or fears?

"Grief is like a long valley, a winding valley where any bend may reveal a totally new landscape." That is how Lewis describes it. It is a journey in and of itself, not an event to get over. I suppose that if we have never experienced grief then we may observe it to be a process which ought to be gone through in an allotted time span. It doesn't work that way though. In some respects, life is a series of losses and our hearts never forget those losses. I was at the San Diego Zoo a couple years ago and I passed by the aviaries containing the Bird of Paradise birds. When I heard their particular bird-calls, I was flooded with sadness and a sense of loss and I literally began to cry right there in front of their cages. I had not heard their calls for over 13 years, back when I lived in Papua New Guinea where I had heard those same mournful cries from the rainforest surrounding our home in our village and our home at our regional centre. My mind could not have recalled their call if it had tried but my heart knew it instantly.

Grief is held in our hearts even though it is our minds that try to make sense of it.
I suppose that processing through another's grief with them requires that our hearts engage their hearts.

These are my preliminary observations.

Bitter/Sweet

2007-09-14T00:07:00.000-07:00

Conversation in the bathroom between my four year old daughter and I regarding the loss of our baby:

HER: (perplexed look) "Why is your potty red, Mommy?
ME: "It's not red; it's blood."

She goes to bed. Later she comes back to use the toilet. I am in the bathtub.

HER: "Mommy, why do you need to get clean in the bathtub?"
ME: "I don't feel very well so it's helping me to feel better being in the nice warm water."
HER: "Why don't you feel very well?"
ME: (deep sigh, look of indecision) "Well... we were going to have a baby but now we're not because the baby died."
HER: (sighs, sounds sad) "MMM-mmm... What baby? Where was the baby?"
ME: "It was in my tummy. it was only about this big (holding up fingers to measure about an inch) but it died."
HER: (face lights up) "I have an idea, Mom! I have a mouse! It can swim! The mouse can go down the toilet and get the baby out!"
(we had been listening to the story of Stuart Little, the mouse, on CD earlier)
ME: "That's a good idea, honey, but it's too late - the baby already died."
HER: (sadly) "Oh-h!" (pausing to think) but why do babies die, Mommy?"
ME: "I don't know, honey."
HER: (contemplative) "Sometimes that's just the way it is, Mom."
ME: "Yep. That's true."
HER: (lighting up again) "But, Mom, my mouse can swim! It can swim down there - it's a girl one, not a boy one - and it can swim down there and take care of the baby!"
ME: "Okay, honey!"
HER: (scampers out of the bathroom) "Good night, Mommy!"
ME: "Good night, sweetheart. I love you!"

These are the best days of my life and the sweetest moments, regardless of the pain.

Poet Life

2007-09-08T14:10:00.000-07:00

"Draw forth the sword of success from out of the iron of circumstance"

"If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it, blame yourself. Tell yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches. For to the creator there is no poverty and no poor, indifferent place." -Ranier Maria Rilke

Going Retro

2007-08-23T00:02:00.001-07:00

Yeah, what does motivate us to "minister to" those people on "the other side of the tracks"? If you ask me, humans have a lot of pride. I read a quote recently that, "If Jesus were on earth you'd find him in a gay bar in San Francisco. He'd be working with people suffering from AIDS. These people are the new lepers. If you want to find out where Jesus would be hanging out it'll always be with the lepers."

If that's true then I must be a leper because He hangs out with me and I know that He hangs out with several of my friends and they still have all of their body parts intact. It seems like those who make a religion out of social causes like to put the "Jesus-stamp-of-approval" on what they are doing because it makes them seem more spiritually mature or aware. No doubt many of them care deeply, as do I, about people who are suffering. I believe wholeheartedly in caring for others, for sure, but what is our motivation when we help the "lepers" of society?

Jesus did not, in fact, "always" hang out with the lepers. He actually spent much of His time with a motley band of 12 men. He also hung out with every type of person imaginable: blue-collar stiffs, federal workers, desperate housewives, religious leaders and religious nut-balls, military men, average Joes, his family, the wealthy elite, social climbers, the handicapped, the "mentally" ill, and the terminally ill; three groups of people who were usually homeless. He was not exclusive about who He spent time with. Jesus hung out with anyone who wanted to hang out with Him. If someone indicated that they didn't want to spend their time with Him then He politely went on His way. He wasn't out to peddle himself to people. He also wasn't trying to make Himself look better by hanging out with all these people.

We forget this but we are all broken. There isn't a soul out there who does not have some level of brokenness. If Jesus is the standard and being like Him is the standard, I am here to tell you that none of us can ever reach that standard. We might as well try to fly to the moon. Even if we practice jumping all day long we will never build up enough muscle to get ourselves up there. If we climb the tallest building we are still millions of miles away. A few people get on board airplanes and claim to be pretty close but they haven't even broken the earth's atmosphere. So is my only option is to go to Kennedy and steal a space shuttle? The problem is, I would need millions of dollars to pay the highly-skilled burglers who would do the job for me and I still wouldn't have a clue how to fly the darn thing. I'm too old to be chosen for the NASA program - not that I would have ever been chosen to begin with - I don't possess the right set of skills to "get in". There is just no getting me on the moon.

Even if I do hang out with the "lepers", it ain't gonna make me any more perfect. (And, oh, how they love being referred to as "the lepers"!!!?)
The only way that I can achieve the standard is to allow God to take my broken self and adopt me into His family and then to see me forevermore as one of His own. There is no ladder to climb or set of rules to follow perfectly. There is no hiding out in some monastery like a coward, trying to avoid the evils of this world so that I can attain more perfection. Perfection is such a futile goal because it is absolutely not possible by any of the standards out there.

The amazing thing is that God sees me as if I am on the moon not as if I am still gravity-bound by earth. There is a tremendous amount of mystery in that for me; I don't comprehend it but it does give me a peace and sense of reassurance that I cannot duplicate through any of my own notions of "spiritual disciplines". No matter how many disciplines I were to practice it would not get me to the moon and that is where I wish to be when it comes to God. I am just going to trust Him on this one even though it sounds totally nuts. (See Ephesians for further insight)

I always thought moon boots were cool anyway.
And what about the Moonwalk, baby? Way cool.
Guess I am going retro.

Official Statement

2007-08-08T15:55:00.001-07:00

That's all I have to say.

People-People, Part Deux

2007-08-06T22:49:00.000-07:00

My computer has been away for a couple weeks so I have not been writing or checking email much.

I meant to write "People-People, Part Deux" awhile ago but it turned out that I didn't get a chance to. Recent adventures, while rife with humor, gave me pause for thought...

The other night my friends "Molly" and "Jill" had a hankering to go sing Karaoke. In our two-horse town there are only a couple places to do this: in the Bar/Lounge of one of the hotels and at this - shall we say - quaint little dive where I fully spent the whole two hours expecting a bar-fight to erupt at any moment. Not to mention that "Jill's" observation of the bar-folk was that they all seemed to have some sort of nervous system disorder due to the way they were dancing.

How does this relate to engaging in community, you ask? Let me tell you. When we walked into the dive, my pal "Molly" felt right at home. "Jill" did not necessarily feel quite so much at home but she was friendly and down-to-earth nonetheless - it also helped that some of her family reunions resembled the crowd we were mingling amongst. And then there was me - the designated driver who did not have any of the advantages of alcohol to carry me through. I was hooked at the hip to "Jill" and let me just say that I was as stiff as a board. It was not helping that we were being flanked by short, googly-eyed guy who was making lewd references to sex, something about nipple-twisting, and Lynyrd Skynyrd (the band). It was a good thing his speech was too slurred for us to understand the full scope of his hopes for the evening. We finally managed to elude him - only to later find ourselves faced with gangly tattoo guy whose lewd references included mention to genital size as well as a high level of f-word usage as an attempt to impress us with his sexual prowess and wishes for the near future with either of us. I could not have imagined a night of ecstasy with either of these hapless fellows even if I had imbibed upon an entire bottle of any sort of alcoholic beverage. It is beyond my creative powers to envision such a thing.

It was actually a blessed relief to sit and chat with Kyle - the young fellow who first introduced us to the quaint dive. At least all he did was show me pictures of his three boys and then tried to give me his phone number to which I kindly demurred that I was married, and thus he said that he was sorry for trying to give me his number and that he had been married but that his ex-wife was a "f-ing, cheating whore *sorry* but she cheated on me." All this, and he could not have more than 23 years old. Poor guy.

I realized something about myself though, and it is that I am a snob. When I described my impression of the place I used some unfavorable words about a certain neighborhood, I am ashamed to say, and it's made me realize that no amount of saying that I have nothing against those people is true if I can say something like that. It's like when people make references to those people who live "on the other side of the tracks". I don't want to be someone who refers to others in a derogatory manner and these were the words that came to me at the realization of my snobbery:

"No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. Each tree is recognized by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thorn bushes, or grapes from briers. The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks."

You can probably guess who said those words. (Jesus, in Luke 6:43-45) I can't deny the truth of those words. That was the overflow of my heart and it was contempt. Granted, most of my contempt was aimed at being treated like a piece of meat which is something that I utterly despise; I cannot stand the user/consumer approach when it comes to sex. My contempt would be just as great for a Manhattan-ite, or a Londoner, or any guy, anywhere, treating me like a conquest. On the other hand, I was at a bar at 1:30 in the morning amongst a bunch of people so blubbering drunk that the bartender was refusing to serve some of them drinks. In other words, if I actually expect to be treated like the lady that I consider myself to be when in that scenario then I am completely out of my gourd.

The whole thing made me realize that it is absolutely essential to separate the behavior from the person. Yes people are responsible for their choices; however, a person's worth is not based upon their behavior. It is a broken person who pursues others in such a way as to not even care who they are but to only want sex from them. It's a broken person who tells you more than once how "f-ed up" he was as a kid and how much trouble he got into, and who is now alone, without much support as the father of three small children. I don't need to go on but I can say that I saw a lot of loneliness and misplaced longing in the eyes of some of those people.

We are all broken at some level; we are each in different places as far as healing and restoration go. Some people are only in for more brokenness due to their inability to make better choices. I found out that I don't want to engage in community with someone who is that broken because I know that I can't trust that person. Even if there is prudence in that, it still shouldn't stop me from behaving in a compassionate manner,at the very least, instead of behaving like a snob.

It would also help not to go to bars at 1:30 AM when people are at their worst but are thinking it is their best.

Being People-People

2007-07-25T10:56:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about community. You know me, I dislike any word that has become a buzz-word. "Being in community," "Doing community," "Having community," "Creating a sense of community"..... and other such buzz-wordish phraseology.

This is always what happens. Always: Someone "gets it" and goes out and lives it and it is genuine and brilliant and beautiful and then the herd of sheep absently munching grass in the field get all excited about what the one sheep is doing and try to turn it into a formulaic concept. We have all done this. You have, I have - even the two-steps-ahead sheep has done this before. We are liars if we say we are exempt from buying in to great ideas at times.

Being part of a community is tough. We live in the most individualistic society in the world. (It is so true that I can write it and you will nod your head in agreement even though neither of us has done any research to see if there are any other countries that compete with our level of individualism.) And we have continued on in our pursuit of individualism. Futurist Faith Popcorn predicted in the 1990's that we would see a trend she called "Cocooning" in America. Cocooning being that our homes would be our sanctuaries - we would shop from home, eat-in at home, go to movies at home. Now we have the internet and movie theatre seating and elaborate sound systems and food delivery services galore. We need to stop this terrible trend toward self-seclusion because it is really just self-absorption to the extreme. We have actually bought into Burger King's motto, "Have it your way" as a lifestyle.

In direct contrast, those who are mature operate from a place where they ask these two questions:
Is it the right thing to do?
Does it express ultimate love and truth?
The mentality "having it your way" doesn't even come close to asking these questions.

All of my buzz-word prejudices aside, I'm beginning to understand what living within community is about. John Donne understood it long ago when he penned the words, "No man is an island." Being in kinship with others provides strength and hope and love and protection. However, it also requires something of us. It requires that we engage in the lives of others and that we offer strength and hope and love and protection. Being part of community requires that we develop a cooperative spirit.

Now, more than ever, I believe that functioning well within community is something that we learn to do, it is not something that is inherent to our natures. Learning to engage in people's lives is a process that calls for our participation. Initiating contact with others is a maturity issue not a personality issue. Being extroverted or introverted merely means that we have different limits as to our level of interaction with others and our ability to process what went on during our times of interaction. We say, "I'm not a people person," or "he is a people person" to excuse ourselves for the fact that we do not begin conversations with others, waiting instead for them to come talk to us. If community is the sum of who we are as individuals then it is going to be pretty pathetic if we all sit by on our park benches waiting for others to approach us. Ironically, it is usually those who are spectators of community who do the most whining about how they don't feel connected or how they feel lonely and misunderstood.

I was given some insight regarding feelings recently while talking to my four-year-old. She tries so hard to express herself but unfortunately the sum of her expression is, "I'm MAD!" I've been trying to figure out how to give her more words to express her feelings. Then it came to me: talking about how we feel is only the beginning. The next step as we mature is to express what we need or want. The feeling itself is not the end; it is the beginning of the process. For instance, all children go around whining that they are hungry or thirsty. My response to that is, "Thanks for the information - are you making a statement or asking a question?"
Feeling hungry for what?
Food? Companionship? Entertainment? Intellectual stimulation? Good music? A trek into the wilderness? A way to express yourself artistically?

When we are in relationship we have to identify what we need or want from others - which is often based upon our feelings - and then express it:

"I'm mad; I didn't get what I wanted and I need to know that I can still hope for good things in the future."
"I am feeling hurt. I could really use a hug and some encouraging words."
"I am so excited about this. I would love for you to share in my excitement."
"I am feeling lonely. Would it be possible for us to hang out and just talk?"
"That really made me feel rejected. I need to know that I am valued by you."
"I feel unloved. I want to hear that I am lovable. I need to know what you see in me. I need to know that you care... I want to hear about my potential and about God's potential for me."

If all we do is sit by and expect others to know what we are wanting or needing then community will never seem to work because we will have never engaged ourselves in the process. We cannot mistakenly believe that we are entitled to have community our way or that we are somehow exempt of law of "reaping and sowing". St. Francis of Assisi illuminated these simple concepts of creating effective community:

...Oh Divine Master, grant that I may not
so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand; to be loved
as to love; for it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned...

Our growth within community is about the ultimate good for others, not just for ourselves. Beyond that, it is about the ultimate good for for everyone, not just for the individual. That is the sum of what Jesus lived and died and rose again for. He sure wasn't living down here in our messy world so that His own wants - or even needs - could be met. Talk about being misunderstood. Nobody got what He was about while He lived on earth. Even now we struggle to get what He was about - it's a learning process; spectators will never be satisfied and nor should they expect to be:

It's not about "having it your way". It's not "all about me".

It's about US. We have to become "People-People".

Don't Worry, Be Happy!

2007-06-28T22:08:00.000-07:00

After writing the last post I went and read my Bible to get myself back in orbit.
I had been reading in the book of Matthew because I wanted to reacquaint myself with Jesus words and actions.

I left off in Matthew 9 so I finished chapter 9 and read on through chapter 10. It was all very interesting but I had to laugh out loud when I came to verse 24 where Jesus explained, "A student is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master. 25 It is enough for the student to be like his teacher, and the servant like his master. If the head of the house has been called Beelzebub, how much more the members of his household!" Jesus said this in reference to the Pharisees (religious folk) who had said, "It is by the prince of demons that he drives out demons." (Matt. 9:34) These were the same folks who accused Jesus of being a drunkard and a glutton because of who He hung out with. (Matt. 11:19)
We are on the right track since we are receiving these same unfounded accusations and that makes me laugh. Laughter is good.

Life is short and we have not too much time for gladdening the hearts of those who are traveling the dark way with us. Oh be swift to love! Make haste to be kind!
-Henri Frederic Amiel (1821-1881)

Keepin' It Real

2007-06-26T22:20:00.000-07:00

First of all, thanks to Sean who created my vastly improved Blog Header! Now I have to write stuff as interesting as my Blog marquee.

Secondly, I hope that you are listening to Herva (see right) while you are reading the posts for your well-rounded blog-perusing experience and listening pleasure.

Awhile back I had written a post about bumper stickers and how dumb some of them are. (I deleted the post) During this rant I suggested that a sticker be created that says:
Religion is not a crutch - it's a lobotomy.

In the interest of keepin' it real, a recent response to one of our church fliers was that it "looked like it could be demonic". (We had a picture of a guy with an arm coming out of his head under the caption, "Nobody's Perfect".) This "demonic thing" was the judgment call of an unknown church-goer who was strongly discouraging a person from attending our come-get-to-know-us BBQ. The person came to our BBQ anyway which is how we know all of this.

Here's how lobotomy comes in: no one wrote, no one called to bother to speak with us in person and see what our purposes are (apparently sacrificing chickens in the moonlight?!). I am resting my case on my bumper sticker theology. It doesn't surprise me that people have these default settings they think are working so they don't bother changing them. "I am uncomfortable with this, therefore I deem that it is eviil." Simple. Neatly wrapped, tied, and thrown into the rubbish bin nevermore to be dealt with.

Here's what is real in all of this: this is how genocide begins. Yep, that's extreme. Give pause though, and think about it. Once we write someone off as being evil, worthless, wrong, or subhuman we begin treating them with less respect and dignity. I wonder where the concept of honoring others comes from? Let me think - was it Jesus? The "golden rule" perhaps? "So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets." Matthew 7:12

What would I want, ideally? I would want someone to call me and ask me where I stand. I would want the other person to give me a chance; I would want him to withhold judgment until he had met me in person. Even after meeting me, I would want that she, or he, would extend grace and seek peace. Even if we didn't agree on all of the particulars, I would want that we still be honoring to one another; not contemptuous. I would want us to be straightforward with one another. Those are just a few of the things I would love to see brought into reality.

Ironically, an acquaintance who runs a local coffee shop heard about the "demonic" comment and said, "That is such a disservice to you!" This kind fellow does not make any claim to follow Christ but he gets it. Makes ya wonder.

What good is a default if we've chosen the wrong settings?

"Believers may not often realize it, but even as believers we are either centered on God or centered on man.
There is no alternative. Either God has become the center of our universe and we have become rightly adjusted to Him, or we have made ourselves the center, and are attempting to make everything else orbit around us and for us." -Paul Fromke

Gotta go change some of my own default settings; my recent orbit trail suggests that I think that I am the sun, rather than earth. Not working so well, Master of the Universe. Please forgive me.

Tweaking my settings:

God
Love
Grace
Honor
Peace
Joy

Sometimes You Feel Like A Nut...

2007-06-24T01:37:00.000-07:00

I've been busy coming up with all these new "mantras" to replace the 8-track of garbled 70's music that is psychedelically ruining my life, particularly because I do not trip on acid whilst listening to these horrific tunes that fry my brain.

I admit that it all feels so Tony Robbins but I know that feeling like the ultimate cheese ball is only a phase. Next thing you know I will be Robert Schuller and then, Norman Vincent Peale. You are so gonna love being around me then. Not only will I be loving my life but I will also throw in a set of Ginsu knives and a free inspirational booklet.
If I can get to the level of Billy Graham (and I mean that respectfully) then I will have faked it 'till I maked it.

Oops, there I go again with the ridiculous burden of expectation.

Billy, please forgive me. You are you - and a wonderful you you are. I am me, and a stadium-filling evangelist I am not called to be. A nut ball writing real blog posts is more my speed. Oh, I am not like all the other nut balls who roll through here. I am a bona fide original.

No sir, I am not whatever type of nut someone else prefers. You want me to be a peanut? A walnut? A pecan? An almond? Well, too bad. I'm a coconut. You don't like it? So I'll fall out of a tree onto your head. Hey, you shook the tree hoping for a different kind of nut, not me. Peanuts don't grow on palm trees, you know! You figure out what kind of nut you are and then you'll know what kind of recipes to make. It's revolutionary! For me it's macaroons, coconut cake, aromatic Thai curries, coconut battered shrimp - see, if you're a peanut then you are making different recipes.
Once a coconut, always a coconut that's what I always say.

Inspirational booklet, anyone?

Bat Girl Checks In... To the Loony Bin

2007-06-21T22:04:00.000-07:00

What do you think about bats? We went to the Portland Zoo and they had a sizable bat habitat. I happen to like bats because they remind me of P.N.G. where I used to live. When we lived out in our village there, these bats would fly overhead every evening during twilight. I always wondered where they had been all day and where they were going every night. I vowed that I would follow them someday and find their mysterious bat cave but I never did and still wonder about them.
I heard that bats were some good eatin' too...

I suppose this feeling of being "batty" has been a part of my life for longer than I'd like to admit. I think that there are times when everyone feels out of control amidst this thing called life. My four year old has actually picked up my phrase, "You're making me crazy!" I regret that she missed the sarcasm because I do not actually believe that anyone can make me do anything let alone go crazy. (unless they are holding a loaded weapon) The other day I tried to pin my looniness on my children and then I stopped and said, "I am a total idiot if I am going to hand my remote control over to you!" Yes, it was another stellar parenting moment, I admit. If I had a dollar for every one of these moments... I'd have at least six or seven hundred dollars by now.

Thus I have added several new phrases to my mantra list:

I can handle this!
I am calm!
This isn't that big of a deal!

So far it's helping. That and prayer: "Help! I'm losing it here!"

I read a verse from the book of Proverbs the other night: "Laughter can conceal a heavy heart, but when the laughter ends, the grief remains." (Prov. 14:13 NLT)
That may not seem so encouraging but the reality of it was encouraging to me. See, God gets this. He really does get it. He gets that we can laugh and still be sad. It's not all either/or to Him. He gets that there are layers to our lives. He gets that some days are better than others. He's the only one who knows what is causing this depression in it's totality because He knows all of the contributing factors, right down to my DNA and very molecules. He also gets how hard it is for we humans to be in control of ourselves - which is why He offered to help us out with that.

When our four-year-old asked where were going one day I said that we were going to the "Loony Bin". I described to her how there are people who wear white coats there walking around with big butterfly nets. I also mentioned that sometimes you get to wear special jackets. (It sounds like a fun place, right? A place where you don't have to be in control of yourself because, ultimately someone else will do it for you with the nets and special jackets)
As it turned out we were only running boring old errands and going to a coffee shop so we hear this wailing from the back seat, "Where's the Loony? I wanted to go to the Looooony!"

Me too sweetheart.
Me too.

That's My Story...

2007-06-14T23:05:00.000-07:00

One of my best friends from high school started a My Space called Free from Ed – as in free from an Eating Disorder. She has struggled with it for nearly 18 years and is on the long hard road to recovery.

The thing is, she is not free from Ed in the truest sense but she is claiming that statement for herself in order to keep encouraged.

I took my girls out for a walk today along the river and it was absolutely gorgeous out. Was I enjoying myself? No. I was on the verge of tears and feeling once again like I was being pinned underwater by a giant boulder and there was no way to get out from under it. That is life with depression: drowning with land in sight.

Maybe it was in my subconscious due to my thoughts about my friend but as I watched my kids playing in the park I thought, “I can’t take this anymore. It’s killing me. What if I just kept telling myself that I am loving my life right now? Even if it sounds like a blatant lie right now, but what if I keep telling myself that anyway? Is it possible to create a new version of reality?”

At this point, what does it matter? I am on the verge of self-annihilation. Every day, week, month, that this goes on I am losing myself and not in a good way; I cry for no reason, I am tired and filled with melancholy and pain, and I dread each new day, feeling that I cannot cope with the day’s demands. What is the point of going on? It totally sucks.

So I started saying it: “I am loving my life right now. I am so loving my life. Look at these great kids; they are so sweet. They are amazing! Look at where I live. It is so beautiful here. Look at all that God has given me. Look at the ways that He has provided for us.” I kept saying these things over and over like a mantra. I repeated verses from the Bible that came to my mind.

Was I miraculously cured? Nope - but I agree with Albert Einstein when he said, “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” It is causing me insanity to keep doing the same things. If I can create a new internal reality I might as well try because there’s no point going on otherwise. I’m not going get all spiritual about this because I already know what steps to take in that direction. Steps in any direction away from the one I’m going in would be a relief. I have no doubt that part of this thing is chemical imbalance because there is no rhyme or reason half the time, just fatigue and crying and heart-pain. I don’t have enough bad experiences in my entire life to cause a problem like this. There are no freaky-deaky skeletons in the closet or people that I hate and want revenge on so that a desire for revenge is eating me alive. I have suffered no losses save those that were to be expected. I said a lot of long, hard good-byes to friends from high school (overseas) – friends who were family to me and who I had an intense sense of belonging with and deep community that I have never had since, save with a very few. For many of those friends, I knew that I would never see them again. That was hard. Good byes are hard. Is it possible that I have unresolved grief? Sure. But who doesn’t? There just isn’t anything there that I can come up with to explain this idiotic soul-sickness. Thyroid problems? Genetics? Loneliness? Who knows?

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18) He is close; He is not glaring at me from across the room telling me to get over it already. He gets that I am hurting and that my pain is real. He saves; He doesn’t try to run me down for my flawed thinking or condemn me for being such an idiot. He wants to save my life and make it beautiful. Listen to this: “The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” (Zephaniah 3:17) He delights in me? He rejoices over me with singing? Who does that? Do I know anyone who has ever said that they delight in me? Sean, maybe, but no one else has said that I can think of. It’s the image of a mother soothing a child, rocking and singing, full of strength and calm to weather life’s storms.

So I say:

I am free from Depression.

I am loving my life right now.

That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.

What Have You Done For Me Lately?

2007-06-13T15:24:00.000-07:00

I was reading the words of a friend today:

The other thing that has snuck up on me is how badly I want to find a church that I "fit". A place where all else fades and all I am there for is to worship. There's not the fashion contest, or the who can talk more spiritual contest...or even the worst, talk about where the church has gone wrong contest...I'm so sick of it all. I don't trust peoples actual words, it takes years for me to believe in someone, that what is coming out of their mouths is really how they live...but at first meet, I am SO skeptical it's ridiculous really.

There were other words, of course but I was struck by the hurt in those words. Most of us relate to this I think, and we reject those same things. In this world of advertising and hype we get so sick of feeling like we are being used by the media or the church or politicians or even by our friends and families. One pastor I know said that he and his wife had made some friends outside of church who didn't know that he was a pastor and he said that it was great to be in a relationship where you didn't feel like either they wanted something from you or you wanted something from them. I totally related to that.

Doesn't anybody love me for me? Isn't that what we are asking?

I got in touch with an old friend recently and we've been emailing back and forth, trying to catch up. The thing that has surprised me the most is how much I love this person for who he is and how deeply loyal that I am even having not seen him for nearly 17 years. I have this little band of friends from those days and I feel the same way about them: deeply passionately loyal. I think that this is how God views us. He is deeply passionately loyal.

That doesn't mean we don't get on each other's nerves at times. But that kind of love goes so far beyond that stuff.
So I say to my friend:
I love you for who you are.
I love your you-ness.
And I am deeply passionately loyal to you.

New World Order

2007-06-12T23:06:00.000-07:00

I've been reading about five different books simultaneously and finally finished Lifesigns by Henri Nouwen. Near the end of the book he quoted Jean Vanier, founder of L'Arche who said of teens in the 80's (Gen Xers!), "They feel powerless in the face of the enormous powers that rule the world. Twenty years ago young people believed they could do everything, and now they are convinced that it is impossible to do anything" Nouwen was addressing the problem of fear and how it keeps us from being fruitful, intimate and ecstatic in a spiritual sense. As a Gen-Xer I can relate to that statement. When I was becoming of age as an adult a whole slew of problems seemed dumped upon us: saving the whales, the hole in the ozone layer, the massive debt of our government, air and water pollution, species facing extinction, overflowing land-fills.... the list goes on an on with new problems being added daily: the AIDS crisis, cultural genocide, the "War on Terror", global warming, waning natural resources...
What are we supposed to do as individuals? I can't possibly fix all of those things or even a few of them. I am all for being part of solving these tough issues. However, it seems illogical to allow them to be my life's purpose; there must be some higher purpose in this life. For, in the end - no matter how great our efforts - we cannot control the actions of others; nor can we control the weather. Thus our efforts can only take us so far.

Earlier in the book Nouwen shares some profound insight regarding activism. He says, "All Christian action - whether it is visiting the sick, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, or working for a more just and peaceful society - is a manifestation of the human solidarity revealed to us in the house of God. It is not an anxious human effort to create a better world. It is a confident expression of the truth that in Christ, death, evil, and destruction have been overcome. It is not a fearful attempt to restore broken order. It is a joyful assertion that in Christ all order has already been restored. It is not a nervous attempt to bring divided people together, but a celebration of an already established unity. Thus action is not activism. An activist wants to heal, restore, redeem, and re-create, but those acting within the house of God point through their action to the healing, restoring, redeeming, and re-creating presence of God."

I am to be a vessel.
I am to allow God and His love to flow through me; this is my choice, however. God won't force me to do anything. If I would rather spend my days being paralyzed by fear then God will allow me to do that. I know that this kind of order exists when I see the ways in which God works and heals through His love and grace. I don't fully know how, even though I keep asking and yearning to understand more of God and His order.
When I reject taking part in God's order, I am an anxious, selfish, petty, prideful fool.
When I do take part in His order, I am the person that I was created to be.
I may be powerless but He is not and His power is at work within me.
I so needed the peace and hope of that reminder.

Sometimes I must consciously seek to jump into God's existing order. I pray, along with angels who are presently in chorus:
Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, who was, and is,and is to come;
Holy, holy,holy, Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come;
Holy, holy,holy, Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come...
That is but one layer of the pattern but it is a place where I can jump in and take part.

Come As You Are

2007-05-28T10:56:00.000-07:00

Come as you are – no perfect people allowed.

This is at the heart of who we are as a “church” (recognizing that we are a small part of a greater whole). Sometimes those who don’t follow Christ respond with skepticism, and rightfully so; I cannot love perfectly but I believe that God can and it is up to me to respond to His leading.

One of the ironies I have found is that when we state this as a value a few Christians have responded with fearfulness.

“What do you believe? Do you teach the Bible?” they ask. What I read between the lines is that there are certain types of people who they cannot imagine God loving or accepting for who they are.

Contrary to that mindset, Henri Nouwen explains:

Living in the intimacy of God’s house, we gradually come to know the mysterious truth that the God who loves us with a perfect love includes all people in that love without diminishing in any way the unique quality of God’s love for each individual person.

This is probably one of the hardest things for us to understand. In our competitive world we are so used to thinking in terms of “more” and “less” that we cannot easily see how God can love all human beings with the same unlimited love while at the same time loving each one of them in a totally unique way. Somehow we feel that our election involves another’s rejection, that our uniqueness involves another’s commonness. Somehow, we think we can only fully enjoy our being loved by God if others are loved less than we are…

When we enter into the household of God, we come to realize that the fragmentation of humanity and its agony grow from the false supposition that all human beings have to fight for their right to be appreciated and loved. In the house of God’s love we come to see with new eyes and hear with new ears and thus recognize that all people, whatever their race, religion, sex, wealth, intelligence, or background, belong to that same house. God’s house has no dividing walls or closed doors. “I am the door,” Jesus says. “Anyone who enters through me will be safe” (John 10:9). The more we fully enter into the house of love, the more clearly we see that we are there together with all humanity and that in and through Christ we are brothers and sisters, members of one family. (Lifesigns by: Henri Nouwen)

We are broken and hurting and cannot truly restore order for ourselves or for the wrecked world that we live in. Coming home to life in God is to come home to the place of perfect love and perfect order that He lives and moves and has His being in. To say, “come as you are” is to acknowledge one’s own humble position within the bounds of God’s perfect love. Fred Rogers said, “You know, I think everybody longs to be loved and longs to know that he or she is loveable. And, consequently, the greatest thing that we can do is to help somebody know that they’re loved and capable of loving.”

We prove that we do not know God when we respond with fear or rivalry towards others rather than responding with this spirit of loving inclusion that Nouwen and Rogers speak of.

Hope Pinned

2007-05-22T23:59:00.000-07:00

Writing of any kind is a monologue. Fiction, nonfiction - it's all just some person's thoughts and opinions packaged in so many different ways.
I've been reading Anne Lamott recently. She has her own set of opinions and I am fascinated by them. This is mainly because they are not my own and I am glad for relief from my inner dialog. At one point she writes about hope and her words resonated with me:
The reason I never give up hope is that everything is basically hopeless. Hopelessness underscores everything - the deep sadness and fear at the center of life, the holes in the heart of our families, the animal confusion within us. When you do give up hope, a lot can happen. When it's not pinned wriggling onto a shiny image or expectation, it may float forth and open like those fluted Japanese blossoms, flimsy and spastic, bright and warm. This almost always seems to happen in community: with family, related by blood, or chosen:at church, for me; at peace marches. (from Plan B Further Thoughts on Faith)

I mainly like the bit about expectation. I don't necessarily agree with her statement that everything is basically hopeless although I do think that it is without God. i am curious to read her latest book because, honestly, I thought she was positively neurotic in Plan B. I just have to see if she is trusting more and fearing less.

Getting into the Mix and Out of the Bubble

2007-04-06T12:20:00.000-07:00

It struck me how much I have changed over the past year since we left the O.C. to "plant a church". I don't write about "church planting" much in my blog, I realized. I don't like the term "church planting" or the words "starting a church". As we always say, we are the church so how can we plant or start something that we are? So far the best I can come up with to describe our work is that we are creating favorable conditions for the spiritual growth of all who enter into our community. That's too long though so I'll have to keep working on it.

Within our group of leaders we have been discussing the "Christian Bubble" lately. To me the "Christian bubble" is defined as a self-protective, self-serving subculture. We are definitely functioning outside of the bubble. We actively strive to discard all things "bubbly" - such as Christian-ese; using the word "Christian" as an adjective for things (you know, Christian music, Christian nation, Christian bookstores, Christian company etc.). I don't even like to call myself a "Christian". The truth is many people associate such a negative connotation with the term Christian.

So much of the language and lifestyle within the Christian bubble is exclusive in nature rather than being inclusive. We have been learning that words like unbeliever, nonchristian, and "the lost" are terms that keep others at arms length. Would you like to be referred to as "the lost"? Everyone is on a spiritual journey. Unless a person is an atheist, he or she does believe in something, spiritually speaking. Coming to faith in Christ and growing in that relationship could become part of his, or her, journey. We are not trying to "get people into church" we are trying to connect people with Christ by meeting them where they are on their journey and walking with them. If we, as a team, can draw others into caring community where Christ can be found, that is church at it best.

Church isn't buildings or services, or programs - it is people working together as a body in order to grow in faith; to worship the living God; and in order to advance the gospel. People shouldn't have to "go to church" in order to experience community within the body. The body - that is, you and I - should be going to them. Buildings, services, or programs are merely avenues by which some might come to faith or grow in faith. Ultimately, you and I are the incarnation of Christ for one another and it is our responsibility to reach out as the hands, feet, heart, eyes, ears of Jesus. In a practical sense this means inviting people into our lives - having them over for dinner, going to coffee, going out for a drink, hanging out at the playground with our kids or dogs, going for a walk, a hike, a bike ride, going surfing, visiting them at their work. It all goes back to an active demonstration of love; making sure that people feel heard and valued and cared for in the place they are at on the journey; it means that we can't make people into "projects" or conversely, we can't just use people for their time, talents or resources.

If we become too attached to life inside the bubble then we tend to become defensive of it and of all of our pet ideas and programs and opportunities there instead of focusing on whether or not those things serve the needs of those around us. We also become overprotective of our comfortable spot and our carefully cultivated image within the subculture. Mainly what I'm trying to say is that we can forget that there are so many out there who are not part of anything that goes on within that tiny world and there does not seem to be a way to get inside of the snow globe like bubble - especially if so few ever come out of the bubble. So few can even relate to the "Christian subculture" to begin with.

If we really are about permeating the culture around us, we can see that living in our own subculture isn't an option; I can't permeate something unless I am mixed in with it - like yeast in bread dough.

Art As Still Life

2007-03-25T19:12:00.000-07:00

So it's been awhile what with the illness factor and traveling to Austin, TX this past week. We had a killer time at Gateway Church and now have a ton of info to digest and regurgitate into reality. (Nice image, I know.)

Guernica

We all know that Art is not truth. Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth, at least the truth that is given to us to understand.

- Pablo Picasso

I wish I had some profound thoughts to share but I don't know how profound they really are. Plus I started writing a book so that might could interfere with my blogger action. I hope to be one of the next great classic novelists of the century. Hey - what with the drivel of this current century I might stand a chance that I didn't stand in the past couple centuries what with Hemingway, Austen, Steinbeck, Fitzgerald, Pearl S. Buck, L'Engle, Potok, Twain, London, Dostoevsky, Dickens, Tolkien, etc. This century since '00 turned over? Well, it's good for me that so many people would rather blog than do the mind-numbing work of writing classic literature. It's also good that people would rather make money. Did you know that Pearl Buck won a Nobel Prize for literature for her work? She also had eight children but still made the time to write. What's my lame excuse now? Two children? hmmm... Don't we all love our excuses for our undisciplined lives -- as if circumstances are really to blame and not our selves! "It is one thing to praise discipline, and another to submit to it." - Miguel de Cervantes

Artists invest years into their work. An artist (musician) relayed that in a recent conversation.
I said, yeah people don't realize the hours that go into it.
He said, No, not hours. YEARS. Years spent in some room where no one sees you practicing Dorian Scales [and pieces of music]...

That word, YEARS really struck me. It also struck me that so many of us want to be heard and to be famous without investing those years into our work. The truth is our work is childish scrawling until we reach a point where we have gained mastery over our medium. There is no way to gain mastery where there is no disciplined work. This is a truth that I've danced around for years, fearing failure; not seeing that most of the work up until the point of mastery will be "failure" but it must be done in order to gain mastery. In that sense it is not failure at all. It is the practice work of a growing artist. Making that investment is another thing altogether. It's easy for me to invest an hour to blog but not so easy to invest two hours to write something that I will end up hating and wrestling with during those two hours and then feeling like I wasted the time because my insecurities were not being catered to. There is a lonely side to discipline that one has to be OK with. The disciplined space is largely devoid of the instant gratification that we have deceived ourselves into believing is a real way to succeed in life. Instant gratification is best left to drive-through windows and instant messaging, not to our life's work or to Art.

Authenticity is the other side of classic art in any form. An artist who is inauthentic produces work that is contrived, commercial, titillating, or pedantic. If a person only wants to be financially successful then they will use their talents to produce work that sells whether it rings true or not. That's OK until they try to label it as art. Art has layers and depth. Look at Picasso's Guitar Player. The truth of Picasso's own melancholy is right there brushed onto that canvas. (During that time period Picasso lost a friend to suicide.)

The artist who has truth to tell has to do the work of living it out in real life. A true artist must be accountable to his work. The artist must be able to speak for what he has produced. I have not been able to do that until the past six months. That's when the dichotomy between outer shell and inner nucleus grew too great to bear. The loneliness of carrying ugly self-truths and the burden of deception were creating a commercialized being. I just didn't have the energy to maintain that persona and to continue worrying about whether or not I was going to be "found out" for who I really was and to be found wanting. Not that I hide monstrous truths that are much different from anyone else's. In the end not being known and not giving others the chance to accept me wasn't worth it. Toward that end the adage, "to thine own self be true" makes sense. If we were true we wouldn't waste the time we do on idle pursuits and chatter; we would be purposeful beings. We would live and speak truth and be accountable to it.

That would be some Art worth looking at.

Ode to Bob Dylan

2007-02-26T13:04:00.000-08:00

Switching gears here –
This summer I watched a documentary on PBS about Bob Dylan. PBS is the only channel that we get so I watched it because I wanted to watch something. Since Dylan was on the scene before my time I never knew much about him. After watching the documentary I was surprised and intrigued, not to mention amused. Bob is a brilliant lyricist; he is very astute and articulate. He had remarkable insight into the culture of his time. His response to interviewers was hilarious. He asked one guy if he had ever listened to any of his music - probably because the interviewer’s questions were so dumb. Here’s a link for more on the film, which was directed by Scorsese:

http://www.pbs.org/wnet/americanmasters/dylan/

In response to Dylan’s music I wrote a poem in similar style (or maybe I kid myself). It’s not cryptic like many of Dylan’s songs are but it does rail against an epidemic of our times: passive-aggressiveness.

Ode to Bob Dylan

What do you want form me?
Why don’t you speak
your mind?
Go ahead and tell me.
What are you hiding
behind?
Use your words –
if you’ve got them.
Tell me what’s on your mind.

What is it that you
need?
Why don’t you be
direct?
I can’t read your mind
and I’m not going to try.
If you aren’t getting
what you want
then you’d better
stick out your neck.

Stop your stupid
pride.
Stop your foolish
fear.
Find your voice
and speak so
I can hear.

Spell it out
if you have to.
Write it down
if you must.
Stop speaking in code
and mumbling
in distrust.

Find your voice.
Speak your mind.
Be prophetic
if you’re called.
Be a leader.
Be a saint.
Find your resolve.

Why tell someone else
what you need to say to me?
Have a little faith.
Own your words.
Stop being so cowardly;
why tell them?
Tell me.

What is it that
you want from me?
What need can I
fulfill?
Tell me what is is
and I’ll tell you
if I will.

Go Ahead and Ask!

2007-02-25T22:30:00.000-08:00

It may have sounded like I’ve gone off my nut in that last post; people have been burned at the stake for less. Some may peg me as a heretic, others as a doubting Thomas. My faith is not so fragile as all that. In fact, it is my faith that allows me to ask those questions. I am not afraid to ask those questions; I must continue to go further and further beyond my self into the vast ocean that is God - rowing my tiny dinghy. I am compelled to do so. What lies out there in the deep? Mythological creatures? Giant octopi? Beautiful tropical islands with white sandy beaches? Sunken Treasure?

Sometimes Christians freak out when you start asking those questions. Picture this: you’re in a “small group” with ten Christians. You ask why God created man in the first place and you reject the one-dimensional answers out of hand. If you watch the faces you may see on one, fear; on another, withdrawal; on a third, defensiveness. Looking at the others you might see annoyance, a combative stance, pity, furtive interest, pride, and maybe even contempt. Does anyone display love and openness? Hopefully! Ideally! You know what? I’ve been in many of those people’s shoes, unfortunately. I used to think I had all the answers. The older I get the more I realize that I don’t know many of the answers at all. In the book of James, he admonishes believers to hurry up and listen [to quit rushing to get our own point across] and to be quick to shut our pie holes - and to stall on playing the anger card. (My paraphrase of James 1:19) If only! Dunno about you but I could use some duct tape at times. Dunno but what some others could use some duct tape too.

In any case, I don’t suggest that we should ask these questions lightly, and with no purpose.

But I wonder if some Christians think that they will become less Christian if they are around a person who asks such questions. If our faith is as precarious as all that now would be a good time to find out! If a few questions can overturn our relationship with God... well, it must have been teetering on the edge to begin with.

I ask these questions because I must know more of God and less of religiosity. My faith is woven of sturdy stuff - not of flimsy thread and loose weave that will begin unraveling as soon as an edge is cut or a perforation is made. “I’ve based my life on order and reason in the universe… and a power of love behind that order and reason. I’ve had many a narrow shave in my day, but I don’t believe in the power of chaos.” (Mr. Theo in The Young Unicorns, by Madeleine L’Engle) I ask these questions because God said to ask. “…Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” (Luke 11:9) If we want to know we have to ask.

"I can't get no satisfaction..."

2007-02-19T22:57:00.000-08:00

Get a cup o' coffee cause this post is deep and wide - or maybe it is only that way to little ole me...

There is a question that has been lurking in the depths: Why did God create man? I do believe that He created us but I just want to know why? Why didn’t He end it at the Flood or the tower of Babel? Why has He kept creating life so that we can toil on and on in this world and in these bodies - both of which are so messed up? I get that things are messed up due to free will and our choice to sin, thereby causing separation between God and us. And I understand that our sin causes harm to others as well, which is why the world is so broken and full of acts that are horrific.

Unamuno says, “Those who believe they believe in God, but without passion in the heart, without anguish of mind, without uncertainty, without doubt and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God, and not in God himself.” I have certainly had my share of anguished thoughts about God lately.

So often my thinking seems more dark than light. I want to get away from my self. I want to move out and leave this person behind whose thoughts can be so dark or who sometimes says regretful words that are unkind or hurtful. I realize that this is partly my depression talking and partly my own proclivity toward sin talking. I also recognize, though, that I truly have come to the very end of my self – I have reached my finite end. My finite thinking can go no further. I’ve reached the sheer cliffs and there is no bridge to cross the ravine. “Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.” (I Cor. 13:12) It’s as if I have been wandering around and around clutching my one little puzzle piece crying, “I don’t see anything in this picture I’m holding – it doesn’t make any sense! It’s not beautiful, it’s ugly. Not only that, it’s totally unframeable because the edges are not straight. Why would Someone give me this terrible piece of art and say that there is purpose in it?”

I begin to see that faith without hope can only lead to despair. Hope can be described as a groaning, a yearning, an aching for something that we desire. Likewise, love without faith and hope is worthless. My puzzle piece is worthless without the context of these ideals. I will not be satisfied with some cheap imitation of faith, hope or love, either.

Having reached my finite end, I am convinced that I know next to nothing about God. I will spend my whole life fiercely groaning and straining to understand just one word in the Bible: LOVE. I do not exaggerate on that point. I know beyond my knowing that I can never hope to understand LOVE while still on this earth. In my suffering, I need the work of hope in order to look beyond life here on earth instead to look towards the continuation and completion of life with God in another dimension.

When the band, The Rolling Stones, wrote the words, “I can’t get no satisfaction…” they penned a truth that was beyond their knowing. While they may have been referring to sexual satisfaction, it is only one of the facets in the human experience that we may or may not attain satisfaction in.

Gerald May writes about satisfaction:
“In our society, we have come to believe that discomfort always means something is wrong. We are conditioned to believe that feelings of distress, pain, deprivation, yearning and longing mean something is wrong with the way we are living our lives.
Conversely, we are convinced that a rightly lived life must give us serenity, completion and fulfillment. Comfort means “right” and distress means “wrong.” The influence of such convictions is stifling to the human spirit. Individually and collectively, we must somehow recover the truth. The truth is, we were never meant to be completely satisfied.”

If we were satisfied and fulfilled in this life would we even continue seeking God?

For me to put my hope in God is for me to set aside my earthly notions of security and comfort and to instead set my sight upon the unlimited expanse of possibility that lies within the person of God. Where I have found comfort in my finite ideals in the past, I find no comfort in them now. I used to describe those things as the “pat answers” that people love to give in order to seem like they have a handle on who God is. Why do we live on a surface level with God? Why are we so afraid to trust Him? For me, it goes back to my original question as to what His motives were in creating us, knowing how crummy life in this world would be; knowing how many pitfalls there are and how many atrocities we will inflict upon each another in large ways and in small ways. I don’t have an easy answer. Even if I say “LOVE” it is still an answer that doesn’t make sense to me because I don’t have a handle on it. The finite realm of human thought and reasoning has turned to cacophony in my head. I am not satisfied with those answers. Going back to Unamuno, he says, “There is no true love save in suffering, and in this world we have to choose either love, which is suffering, or happiness. Man is the more man - that is, the more divine - the greater his capacity for suffering, or rather, for anguish.” To me, this is the awfulness, the dark side of the mystery of God.

Aeschylus writes, “In our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.”

I cannot even begin to explain the meaning of that; nevertheless it speaks to me and I comprehend it deep down, the way I comprehend God to be wild and untamable like C.S. Lewis’ lion, Aslan.

The “awful grace” of God is beyond me to behold. I’ve heard so often that God hates sin and that He won’t come near to sin. And yet, and yet, isn’t grace a part of God, a part of His character? And doesn’t He reach down to mankind and touch us in the midst of our sin - the filth and scum and degradation of our human choices - with that “awful grace”? I cannot explain how God does this for us. I don’t know what the mechanics of His actions are while He is offering this part of Himself to us.

It does not seem as though fulfillment or satisfaction are realistic goals to grasp for in this life, in light of these ideas. How can I ever claim to comprehend this LOVE of God? And how can my heart ever be satisfied or fulfilled until I meet God face to face?

Rhetorical Question

2007-02-06T23:00:00.000-08:00

There’s been quite a bit going on around here lately but not enough time/energy to blog.
My kids and I all have nasty colds so I haven’t had the energy to write much other than one lone email that was probably waaaaay too long and the subject matter too neurotic to blog about. Why are some things in life like that?

Married to the Mob

2007-01-28T22:03:00.000-08:00

Loving other members of the “church body” can be a thorny practice filled with complexities. Most of us struggle with this idea of loving other Christians, especially those who are different from ourselves. I’ve certainly had some battles in this area and continue to seek God’s wisdom and answers. Within the last few months an analogy has come to me that has given me a clearer picture as to what it means to be part of the “body of Christ”.

Another term for the body of Christ that is used in 2 Cor.11 is the “bride of Christ”. Being part of the body of Christ is like being a partner in a marriage. When we take our vows to live as followers of Christ we are also taking a vow to love other followers of Christ (unwittingly or otherwise). The apostle Paul said, “I myself in my mind am a slave to God's law,” in Romans 7:25 The implication of the term slave is that we have no choice but to follow Christ’s commands. One of Jesus’ main commands is to “love one another,” or to “love your neighbor as yourself.”

In a marriage there are a great many choices, are there not?

A person can choose to speak solely to their spouse concerning his or her faults rather than complaining about their spouse’s faults to others. A person can choose to forgive their spouse even when their spouse has betrayed them in some way instead of withholding grace. A person can choose to resolve differences quickly rather than holding a grudge. A person can accept their spouse where they are at instead of comparing their spouse to others. A person can make a concerted effort to learn how to deal with conflict in a healthy manner instead of griping or nagging at their spouse. A person can choose to cherish, honor and love their spouse and to find ways to be an encouragement and an ally no matter what. The quality of the relationship is largely dependant upon these choices.

Being part of the body of believers requires that we make those exact same choices as we interact with one another. For the record, no, we do not have to be best friends with everyone but we do have to be loving. Just the same as in a marriage, there are boundaries. Where there is conflict we must work to resolve it. If someone is unrepentantly abusive or consistently unfaithful to Christ, we must separate ourselves from him or her. If someone wants to leave and will not listen to reason, we must let them go. These are the very few exceptions to the rule, however. For all the other times one or the other of us behaves in an unloving manner, we have no excuse. We can’t kick them out of the house for petty reasons. We do have to keep our “vows” to love one another even when things are hard.
I, (Bride/Groom), take you (Groom/Bride), to be my (wife/husband), to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward for all of eternity.

To be able to love like that, for me, requires Christ. I cannot love like that on my own.
I realize that this may sound a little crazy – radical or simplistic – but love really does conquer all. Love never fails. Love NEVER fails. Guess what? Selfishness fails. Hate fails. Indifference fails. Self-protectiveness fails. Impatience and unkindness fail. Unrighteous anger fails. The quest for knowledge and desire to conquer the unknown fails. Self-righteousness, contempt and pride fail. Have any of us ever heard of these things bringing about miraculous good?

Cheesy Love Song Rings True

2007-01-25T00:45:00.000-08:00

I have some friends in my life who have been “the wind beneath my wings” lately, to quote a cheesy song. These two, SA and CLA have given me courage and love and grace. CLA sat with me the other night even though she was dead-tired and probably would much rather have been sleeping than trying to draw some stuff out of me. She asked me, “What do you love?” I didn’t really answer so she asked me again after listening to ten minutes of my rambling.

“What do you love?” We needed for me to get to the bottom of this. And it wasn’t a question about what do I love in ministry; it was just about what I love, period. What am I called to in life? What am I passionate about? What am I drawn to?

“Writing.”

Writing.

But how does that fit into ministry? What do I do with that? What is my role???? There isn’t a neat little box that writing fits into. I’m not J.R.R. Tolkien. I’m not Madeleine L’Engle. I’m not Ernest Hemmingway. I’m not John Donne or Milton or Shakespeare…. I’m just me. I have said no to God on this one for a long time. He has presented me with “writing” and I have flat-out refused Him:

“I don’t know what to write.”

“I’m not that great of a writer compared to X, Y or Z.”

“I don’t have time to write.”

“No one is going to want to read it anyway.”

You don’t even know how many times that I have whined these exact sentiments. Somebody call the waaaaaam-bulance!!!!

Nonetheless, there it is before me and I need the courage to take hold of it with both hands which means letting go of my pathetic “need” to grasp at some phony role as Pastor’s Wife Barbie which no one – and I mean no one – is interested in anyway. Heck, I’m not even interested in it so how could anyone else be?!

Enough about me, though. I really wanted to share how much it meant to me that CLA would go out to the stable, hitch up the horses and drag this information out of me. Not only that, but she took this information and told me to go set Pastor’s Wife Barbie on fire with matches or to use her for target practice. OK, not really but she loves me and wants me to be me. She knows how desperately unhappy I have been for so long and she cares. She does. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.

Henry David Thoreau, "Walden", 1854

Still percolating

2007-01-23T22:48:00.000-08:00

I’m still processing all of this information regarding roles and being part of a church body. I wish I could sit and write about it now but it’s late and I have to be somewhere in the morning.

For those of you who are desperately awaiting the next installment of Bats in the Belfry:

Is she crazy? Will she ever make sense of her life? What has she decided to do about all of this stuff?

Yes, the thoughts are still percolating but some of them are coming together. Where will I be six months from now? Will I be sitting in a café in Paris, writing a Nobel Prize winning piece of literature? Will I be in Africa? Do I need a sabbatical? These are all possibilities. Suffice it to say, I am feeling less trapped. Less trapped=less depressed I won’t stop taking the SAMe supplements yet though. And the occasional quarter of a tablet of valerian. I do feel a sense of regret that I have allowed my self to be in bondage to a bunch of idiotic expectations all these years. Basically my entire grown life and a few of the teen years have been spent in this misery. What a waste. For any readers who are young, ditch the phony expectations. Do it now. Turn off your computer, go someplace quiet, write them all down and then burn them. Or perform some other ritual that will accomplish the same thing. And if anyone comes at you yakking about expectations, unless it is your boss or something like that… don’t be tempted to morph yourself into something that you are not like I have done over and over and over… ad infinitum.

Pastor's Wife Barbie

2007-01-17T22:50:00.000-08:00

Understanding my “roles” in life has often been a source of confusion. For some people it appears to be pretty cut and dried: “I know that I am supposed to be a nurse.” Or, “I know that I am supposed to be a teacher.” These people go to college, graduate, and then become nurses or teachers. It may not always be fun but, for the most part, they give the impression of being fulfilled in these roles. Usually I am somewhat envious of the seeming simplicity these friends have in their life's roles.

I’ve had this role as a pastor’s wife for sometime now. I have to admit that this role is akin to trying on bathing suits in a department store after you’ve had two kids. You’re in there under the glaring fluorescent lights, tugging and pulling, adjusting; wincing as you face your derriere in the mirror… however, the flimsy bit of super strength spandex just cannot perform the miracle of making you look like the Halle Berry Catwoman Barbie Doll. And you want to look like Halle Berry Doll. (Unless, of course you are a blond, which I am not - then you want to look like a Barbie Doll.) Worse, in your pea brained head you’ve decided that the world at large wants you to look like a Halle Berry Catwoman Doll. Short of living at 24 hour fitness this is not going to happen.

It’s taken some time and research, but I have discovered that there is no Pastor’s Wife Barbie. There is a Nurse Barbie and a Teacher Barbie. There is even a Hawaiian Barbie. There are also quite a few Barbies that ought to be called Hoochie Mama Barbie, but maybe I shouldn’t be so judgmental. This information on the different Barbies leads me to believe that there are not enough little girls out there wanting to be a Pastor’s Wife to warrant making a Barbie doll. I suspect that it would be too difficult to decide what she would look like or how dowdy to make her attire. I imagine the Hoochie Mama Barbie is more marketable.

I know that I never aspired to be a Pastor’s wife as a girl. Ideas such as ballerina, gymnast, teacher - or even cashier - seemed more appealing. I was already living in the parsonage, and from my inside view it did not seem to be such a great job. There were a lot of responsibilities and too many restrictions. Funny thing though, I did think that being a missionary was a cool job. There is a lot more romance in the idea of being speared by savages; nobly eating sago grubs to be polite; or courageously rescuing little girls from becoming temple prostitutes. So exciting! Plus, you get to travel, wear different types of clothing, learn new languages, provide some medical care, teach people to read and write, and get a good tan since you’ll be living in a hut on a beach… I mean, the perks are nearly endless if you are a missionary! Being a Pastor’s wife doesn’t even begin to compare. Booooor-ing! Moreover, there is a Travel Barbie and there are a number of International Barbies which further reinforces that a Missionary Barbie may not be far off.

As for girls who do aspire to be pastor’s wives, either they know for sure that they are meant to be in this role like the nurse/teacher people or they are completely nuts. It’s possible that they may mistakenly think there is glamour and romance in the role. Again, resting my case that some of these chicks are nuts.

So, was I called to this role but didn’t get the message? Did my phone drop the call? Was my phone disconnected at the time? It could be any of these three. Your guess is as good as mine. I never wanted the job but I have it anyway. Am I really a Troll doll who ended up with a Ken Doll? Possible. Also possible is the Dashboard Hula Doll ending up with Ken Doll. I’ve been asked before, “Didn’t you know that Sean was going to be a pastor?” Are you catching the implication of that question?!? A Dashboard Hula Girl should not marry a Ken Doll. That’s what I’m hearing. I should be thwarted in love since I am not a Barbie doll? How come it’s ok to substitute GI Joe for Ken Doll but not Troll girl for Barbie? Huh? I mean, do I love the man or his job? What if he were a Sanitation Engineer? Would I still go for him?

I’m just going to say that I am the Gold Edition Missionary Barbie but I have been on a semi-permanent furlough due to Ken Doll Safari Edition Outfit not being released yet.

p.s. For the record, no I am not ripping on Sean. I’m writing about roles and their confusion not any confusion about who to marry and why. I married the man I loved (still love) regardless of the confusion down the road. Come on, you know I would have been confused whether he was a pastor or not! Few of you know this embarrassing fact but I did try to join the Armed Forces not long after we were married. Maybe all those grubs I ate as an MK (missionary kid) got to my head.

Flood Survivor

2007-01-15T21:07:00.000-08:00

I have been struggling with depression this year. The reason I mention it "out loud" is just sheer desperation. There are so many days when I don’t want to get out of bed and once I do get up, I count the hours until I can go back to bed. Many days I wake up feeling almost as tired as when I went to bed. Most days I am filled with a dull ache; melancholy and hopelessness ruin times that should be good. It is difficult to muster any excitement about anything. Truth be told I am tired of mustering and posturing. I don’t want to wear the Mrs. Potato head smile anymore. I want to put on the angry eyes and the sad mouth and be done with it. Instead, I just sit there wishing the world would come to a screeching halt like when God sent the flood and destroyed all life on earth. And I don’t want to be Noah, the flood survivor. Have you read that story recently? Noah and his family sat on that smelly boat for an entire year. It was not just 40 days, it was an entire year. God must have been there on that boat with them because it would have been mind-numbing without Him.

Anyway, in my current life situation there are a lot of needs, events, responsibilities, etc. It is really hard to invest when I often don’t care if life goes on for another five minutes. Depression is truly horrible. It destroys your life. It steals your life. Sometimes, people do take their lives. Those are the ones who cannot take the pain, suffering, and isolation of depression anymore. I have so much compassion for those people. It’s easy to sit by and talk about how selfish they were. “Oh, how could anyone do such a thing?!?” we gasp. It’s not as if anyone ever wants to grow up and be a depressed person who is trapped in a body that betrays them and a mind that simply cannot overcome the depression by willpower alone. Anyone whose depression gets to that level feels very little quality in life. Not only that, but the person begins to feel like he is nothing more than a burden to others because he cannot function at his normal level and he grasps at encouragement with a frightening level of neediness. How is that so different from an elderly person who has to wear incontinence products; is racked with terrible physical pain and who cannot get up out of his, or her, bed even to get to the bathroom? The quality of that person’s life becomes that of agony. Life becomes a state of “survival mode”. I am NOT saying that the person is not valuable – people are valuable no matter what state they are in. They are precious and loved by God. There is no such thing to God as a loser, or a person who is trash, or a person who has outlived their usefulness. But that is fodder for another blog. I’m simply saying that pain management of any kind, in a long-term situation, is very difficult. It drains the person who is in pain and it also drains those who are caregivers.

In our culture we hear so many things like, “time is money” and about how this person, or that person, has skills to offer, or a great resume. We hear these messages over and over and they are about performance and usefulness. When we find ourselves in a place where we cannot function at our normal level and have little to offer as a result… it’s like being locked in a floating coffin for a year. If God is not in there with us, we would rather have perished in the flood because feeling useless and burdensome only adds to the depression. The solitary solution is to hold tight to God and to set the stupidity of our culture aside with all of its vain notions of what success and personal worth are. I’ve said it before and I will say it again: culture is not sacred. I know. I have lived within cultures and between cultures. There is no culture on this earth that matches God’s. God’s culture, His unchanging culture is the only one that is sacred to me.
I cannot live without it. Especially now.

"Foose-ball" and revelation

2007-01-12T14:35:00.000-08:00

Ok, so I just watched a promo for a movie called We Are Marshall. I guess it came out in 2006. It's a movie about a college football team in a small town called Marshall. It's based on a true story about how there was a terrible plane crash; most of the players for the team were on board that plane and lost their lives that night. During the interviews of the actors in the movie they all kept saying that the football was just a backdrop for the human drama of the story. The football is really just a backdrop to everything that the people in that town were going through... Then it hit me - it was one of those moments of personal revelation - that is precisely what all of this "church stuff" is. All of the get-togethers, all of the events, all of the programs, camps, retreats, etc. - all those things are just backdrops for the human drama that continually takes place. I think that sometimes we refer to the inner workings of our lives as the "real world" because we instinctively know that the events aren't where it's at. Ultimately, the events can save no one, but the inner landscape... well, that can change the world. If we can connect with people on a deeper level while we are attending these events that is what will count. Sean told us the other night that the broad brushstrokes at the base layer are what matter - the love, friendship, and connections with others. Even if the event itself fails, when we have loved and connected to others that is what matters in the long run.

I have heard some of these ideas over and over but never quite grasped the concept of the backdrop. Sean has understood this concept for a long time and those who know him can attest to his ability to connect on deeper levels and to encourage, to teach and to be a genuinely caring friend. He is not hung up, like so many of us are, on feverishly continuing to paint the set even though the play has already begun. We should put down our brushes and be part of what is going on, either on the stage or in the audience, so to speak.

Many of us have complained about the [institution of] church and how we dislike the highly programmatic nature of so many churches today and how it just begins to feel like there’s always yet another event to attend or to volunteer for. After awhile it seems like all we are there for is to serve the event. Worse yet is when leadership begins to value the success of the event instead of how well people connected with one another, with God, and whether or not unconditional love was being demonstrated. It is truly frustrating if a group of volunteers receives a tongue-lashing because they didn’t get enough of the set painted even though they know that people came away feeling loved and valued despite how the backdrop turned out. It seems to me that we come away from the church feeling dissatisfied because we know that it is not the set that matters at all. We are struggling, we are hurting, we are seeking some answers, and we are longing for acceptance that goes way beyond a smile and a pat on the back and some trite conversation. We could care less about the backdrop.

New Year, New Blog

2007-01-06T18:05:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!!
Yes, it's a new blog! Out with the old, in with the new!
I've been thinking of starting a blog for awhile now but could find no direction. Sean gave me some ideas and this is the result: Bats in the Belfry. Yes, I am saying that I feel like a crazy person at times. I am also saying that I am sure I am crazy to even post some of these deep dark thoughts from the domain of Quasimodo's belfry. Or maybe I relate to Quasimodo (a.k.a. The Hunchback of Notre Dame). Until I seek professional help we may never be sure...