Backwards...

This Sunday the congregation where I serve is worshiping in reverse...or backwards...or the last piece of the liturgy is coming first. However you phrase it, it will be different for the congregation. I thought I'd share one piece of the service. Credit for some of it goes to my friend Jennie. Thank you as always.

This piece will be at the very end. I have an odd distain for litanies but this is how things are done so I didn't rock the boat too much. (just turned it around another direction)

Call to Worship

P: Worship today had a new order. For some of us it added to the excitement of the worship service, we enjoyed experiencing worship in a new way…

C: for others it was odd, confusing and at times frustrating.

P: We are each creatures of habit after all. We like things to turn out the way we think they should.

C: We like people to behave the way we think they should.

P: Jesus reminds us today, that if we are bothered by things like the offering coming after communion, or the announcements coming at the end of worship…

C: the Kingdom of God is really going to shake us up.

P: Jesus reminds us,

C: Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all. We are called to welcome the least, embrace the lost and serve the one we'd least expect to.

P: Greatness isn’t found by getting the order right, or by being perfect, or finding all the answers

C: Our greatness is measured by how we love each other. By how we serve each other.

P: And, that my friends, never has a clear order…it can be odd, confusing and at times frustrating

C: But it is what God has called us to do…welcome the unknown, embrace the stranger and through the chaos, we will be drawn closer to God.

The Summer that Was

While still not officially fall, the schedule has moved on. Gone are the lazy days of parks and late bedtimes. It was our best summer yet as a family. I conquered my 'summer-no-schedule-angst.' It helped that the kids where old enough to walk, talk and feed themselves. So, a review is in order.

Trips to a local pool.

We visited a nearby children's museum a few times. Enjoying a much appreciate Chipotle burrito as well.

Mornings at the park...we even tried a few new ones.

Blogs.

My husband showed up for a brief stint on the church softball team and we enjoyed the social time afterward.

Facebook.

We celebrated 4th of July by decorating our bikes and riding around a friend's neighborhood. We watched fireworks together out of the back of our car.

A trip to MI was a welcome change of pace. It even turned out to be fun.

Naps.

We spend a weekend with family in IA.

Books.

I wrote notes and connected with people.

All five of us headed to MN for some time:
celebrating my 37th birthday with those dearest to me
racing turtles
playing in the sand
gathering up mementos
snooping around run down houses
walking The Point
remembering why I get so homesick some days

The kids and I enjoyed lunches at various local restaurants.

We prepared for preschool.

I fiddled with medications and doctors.

On to fall..while we did summer well, it is good to be back.

Being Our Best

Our Greatest Fear —Marianne Williamson

it is our light not our darkness that most frightens us

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?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.

There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other

people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of
God that is within us.

It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.

—Marianne Williamson

Thanks to the one who pointed me to this blog entry.

and he's off...

That's my first baby. You can't see his face so his cover isn't blown. He was far more confident about the whole event than his picture shows. It is only preschool after all.

But still it is preschool...the start of 16 years of organized education. Something about it is a bit sad. Not the part that he is growing up, that has always been something I expected him to do. Frankly, I am more sad on the days I fear he may never grow up.

No, sad in a more, philosophical way.

Really, he has to learn to line up a certain way and sit still. So soon?
Really, it is time to follow random and arbitrary rules. Sigh.
Really, you have to navigate the opinion and style of your teachers? Already?
Really, he needs to learn that word and learn about what tv show? Come, on.
Really, he has learn that spaceships don't land on barns and cows don't sleep in beds. Why?

The rebel in his mother, the good girl* who stood in line and rose her hand and worked very hard not to attract too much attention to herself, she isn't ready for the world to shape him. She isn't sure standing in line just like everyone else is always the best guiding principle of life. She isn't sure sitting still is a necessary life lesson. She isn't sure...about so many things.

All of this philosophical musing is fine right up until I ask him to do something...then I'm pretty sure what the response should be.

*good girl minus one incident in Kindergarden when I slugged a kid who stepped on my shoes. You know how annoying it is when that happens. And it was hot. His glasses came off but he was fine. Completely fine.

it starts here

Being a homemaker was never on my list of things to do. Trust me I made lists. I kept them. I've checked them over. It is never listed. Not. Once.

But you either have to accept reality or re-frame it. Here is a nice re-framing...

I can do nothing about the state of the world, except work on the parts of it I directly touch. As someone who would really rather be out slaying the big dragons of "the world," finding purpose in the smallest parts of life is a spiritual exercise.

Today we...
ate cinnamon crunch bagels with strawberries for breakfast
went for a hike with 4 other families
rearranged our yard
made cookies
watched Sunshine Cleaning
ironed clothes for the first day of Sunday School
wrote my grandmother
played on the computer

We each did our best to be the best to each other we could be.

Doing a New Thing #2

Last night my husband came home with flowers. And, a gym membership.

We had agreed to the gym membership but in a phone conversation I jokingly acted hurt by his "gift" membership to a place which pretty much screams guilt and "letting oneself go" every time I drive by it. (on the way to get coffee, shop or buy a pretzel-any number of directions this Fall Change program could take)

Thus the flowers. The gesture added humor, care and love to this next step of "Doing a New Thing." It represented a whole lot more in terms of our relationship as well. Needless to say, we are both branching out in new directions.

Today, I was awake at 5:30am. I am always awaken at 5:30am to take my thyroid meds, but today I actually got out of bed. I got dressed. I got in the car and drove alone in blissful silence to a yoga class.

It was a good morning. Right now I need to return to making it a good day...a bit trickier because of the cast of characters.

First up on the list of whines I had to either ignore or address:

Going to the bathroom. BB has been alseep for 12 hours--still will not go to the bathroom. He will writhe in pain at the table, but will not go.

Once he decides he needs to go...usually two bites into breakfast (which he also didn't want to eat) he doesn't want to wash his hands.

Once he loses that battle, he moves on to the things he doesn't want to do today.
First up, get his haircut from a woman named Emily. His usual hairstylist is on vacation. I can not bring her back just for him. I am amazing, but I can not drag her off a mountain in Colorado.

Tomorrow is the first day of MOPS. That will be #3 on my list of Do a New Thing. More later...

Doing a New Thing #1

It is 9:41pm where I live. I have much more work to do. In fact I am in the middle of a project. But, I need to stop a vicious cycle that has started over the summer.

If I stay up late, I get up late. The early morning hours are the only ones that I have to myself. Thus, I must break this cycle in order to move on to New Start-try #2. (wait for it)

So, while I have much I could stay up doing. It will be there tomorrow.

Good Night.

Inspiration

Thanks to the miracle of Facebook I have connected with cousins and second cousins. It has been so fun to get to know them better and interact beyond the shy encounters over a shared family potluck. One of my cousins writes a blog...so here is another one for you. She is a hilarious and honestly real person.

You'll read a few posts on a detox she did over the summer. About the time she was ending her detox I gave the old aktins diet a try. A two week try. It had dismal results. Mind you my hypothyroid numbers are so low you had to scrape me off the floor at the time. Starvation wouldn't have helped.

But it did reaffirm for me how addicted to food I am. So to the on going list of things I am working on, I add, "food is just energy" to my list. It isn't love. It isn't a celebration. It isn't my friend....or enemy. It just is. Energy meant to keep me going.

I haven't exercised in three months. Longer really. Unbelievable. If there is one area of my life that I can no longer recognize myself, it is here. So, I watch from the outside as one friend trains for her first half marathon. Never an athlete she is diving into a world I use to occupy. Another took up running, finished a half marathon and various road races, then decided to put together her own 5k. It just took place and went really well. I listen as she talks about the type of event I spent every weekend attending or participating in for years.

All of them serve as inspiration. Detox. Running. Organizing.

I'm gearing up for a strong fall. But probably need to move beyond blog entries...
It is Monday.

The Goal

Monday nights I have been setting up "office hours" at a local coffee shop. No one from church stops by so it is a blessed time of renewal and reading. I actually do get some "office work" accomplished but I also fill up on my eavesdropping and people watching--something that is usually difficult with BB and EG around. They both chatter constantly so they serve as my own portable white noise machine blocking out any sounds of a world larger than us.

A few weeks ago as I wrote notes to people and began The Shack, I took note of two women sitting a few tables away from me. Amongst the college and high school aged students that filled the place they stuck out. I took note of them because it was 9pm, their hair was wet, they each wore simple, stylish workout wear, and they were at least 80 years of age. What also struck me was how engrossed they were in each others thoughts. They seemed like the best version of friendship.

After a few minutes two other women near to their table got up to leave. Each in their 40's or so, they stopped to greet the women who were seated. "You two are such darling little women," one said with that voice people so often use with the elderly.

My friends smiled a little bit and then graciously humored the younger women with an explanation of why they were out so late....being old and all. It turns out every night they swim at a local pool for an hour or so. Afterwards they do some light weights. Then they have a simple supper somewhere together. They chatted a bit more with the two women and then eventually the younger women left the coffee shop.

Once they had gotten out of ear shot, one of the original women looked at her friend, "Why'd they stop at our table?" The one snorted and laughed a bit, "Oh, they said something about us being darling little women...some condescending blah, blah, blah." They both chuckled kindly and then continued on where their conversation on local politics had left off when they were interrupted.

I nearly had coffee coming out of my nose.

While I had the same reaction to the woman's "compliment," I felt for them. I knew what they meant. I knew why they had stopped at the table at all.

These older women represented the ultimate goal for those of us in our mid-age. There they sat; sharp, healthy, active, positive, awake past 7pm and in their 80's. Their friendship was also inspiring. From a distance it radiated its light.

As I sat in thankful silence sipping coffe, loneliness sat with me as well. It is a lonely stage of life...the worst kind, as I am often surrounded by adults and kids, but never seeming to connect. I think everyone took note of these women because they gave us such hope as they walked in. Yes, some of it was ageism...they were the oldest in the place by two decades. But also because of who they were...I could see them inspire people as they simply sipped their soup and chatted.

They seemed to be living mantras. "We can make it through these years of spinning chaos, sleepless hours, constant babbling and chatter, the never ending pulls on our being. There is a model of health and activity. Intellectual curiosity, humor and articulate conversations can we ours once again."

By this point I was probably staring. I really wanted to say something to the women as well. Either, in a fit of pathological fixing, to re-script what the first women had said, or to just add my own observations on the women's obvious "fabulousness." (because I would have made it sound so less condesending...)

Instead, I got more coffee. As I returned to my table I caught one of their eyes and smiled. She smiled back. I packed up my books and prepared for the journey back into my reality. Not before I gave thanks for a glimpse into the future and how well it can be done.

Summer's Guilty Pleasure

Time to come clean on a few of my summertime activities....

Sometime last spring my friend Jennie (I need someone to blame here) introduced me to this blog. She read about it in the New York Times Style Section. I immediately read most, if not all, of the blog and spent all summer checking in each day. When this became predictable...charity benefit, preppy wickedly expensive items, travel to Europe...I started to search through the blog rolls.

That is where I found this blog. Another guilty pleasure. And of course from her blog you can find others, and so on, and so on....

Summer is galloping towards fall and I need to stop. These women's lives are so dramatically different from my own they only serve to stir up jealousy and sheer bewilderment. Something has to give as I ponder my fall schedule and these two are top on my list Blog Cutback List.

My addiction to their blogs isn't adding much to my day. I am sure they are lovely people, I am just confessing here, and hoping that like any addict my admission will help me to move on.

And because I have come to enjoy them I don't want them to feel abandoned I'll just send them your way, should you need a break from your own reality. Enjoy.

Some Sermons

None are mine. They are both related to the ELCA's churchwide decisions.

First is from the Sarcastic Lutheran.

The second is from my dear friend. She blogs (not enough...but I'll let that go. grin.) at The Emmaus Road. Her sermon can be heard via her church website...go to Worship and then to Sermons. Once you have launched the sermon player listen to Choices.

Christian Sisterhood

A few weeks ago on Oprah I watched a re-run of her visit to the polygamist ranch. It was the one in Texas where all the children were taken from. At one point Oprah addressed the common topic of jealously among the sister-wives.

Obviously, 3, 7, 14 women all living in the same house can spur a large supply of human emotions. Never mind the fact they are all married to the same man. The women wouldn't 'dish' with Oprah. They had no gossip or even rolled eyes agreeing with the assumed hardship of living in community with other women. What they did say was what got me thinking.

When they experienced a struggle or hard feelings towards another "sister" it was a signal of their own sin. They needed to dig deeper to overcome some sin, or struggle. Whatever anger, jealously, pride they felt towards the other, reflected something lacking in their own being. When they didn't like someone or felt ill will towards another, it meant they needed to look into themselves to see why they couldn't love the other woman.

While not unfamilar, their response got this woman thinking.

I am a member of two woman's groups. Both are made up of Christian women. By the end of May I was ready to be done with female community all together...and I only saw most of my "sisters" for a couple of hours each week.

I have spent all summer fighting off (failing miserably) the worst version of myself when it comes to my attitude towards some of my "sisters in Christ." Does the fact a few (by no means all or even most) women drive me batty reflect on me? Is it a sign of my own sin? Or, on this journey of life, will some people just rub you the wrong way? Is that ok? And, when you can't escape them, what is the Christian response? Obviously, wringing their necks is out of the question.

There is an expression within some Christian communities about "taking on the others sin." From what I can glean it means not getting sucked into the drama of another person's life or sin. When others gossip, don't join in. When the other is angry, don't respond with anger. When someone is selfish, you become more giving. Etc. Etc.

Sooooo, not my gift. But I know it is true. The trick right now is preparing my heart and mind to rise above my desire to RUN AWAY or worse yet, subtley attack those who drive me batty, through continued snide and snarky observations--out loud or in my head and heart.

My goal is to allow myself the freedom to say--"I don't really like them. Or connect with them. Or understand them. Or, they don't like me. Or they hurt me/I hurt them."--to accept these things and then move on. Mulling it over and over, isn't making it better. Replaying all the ways we bug each other, doesn't heal much. This is the goal in the coming weeks, in preparation of fall and start of all the groups.

Sigh.

I suppose if I can learn something from fundamental Mormon polygamists living in rural Texas...I can rise to the challenge of learning from, and appreciating, the women in my life.

Felting Fun

Guess what everyone is getting for Christmas? Just look at all those fun 'felted food' items. :)

Everybody's Got Something to Offer...

to the discussion. My denominational body made news recently. I was on vacation so have yet to read the final documents. I haven't had a chance to talk with friends and colleagues who were there.

Plus, my brain doesn't engage fast enough to offer printed commentary on a semi-public blog quite yet. But I am pleased. From what I have read, I am even proud of the work being done.

Here are a few blog links from people whose brains did have something say on the topic....
Start here. It is what I would have written if my brain worked. You must read it. (It is my blog after all, I can be bossy.)

The Paris Project The Toddler, The Discharge, and The Humidity (I may kiss her when I hear her speak in October...I might just.)

and from Peacebang it goes in a totally different direction. One worth thinking on/being more mindful of.

Tensegrities has a lot of links and directions to go should you have time and interest.

As I said, it has been vacation time around here..more reports soon.

Here's All I've Got.

I'm back from a trip to see my husband's family. I got sick the last night we were there...I remember the thermometer reading 110 degrees, but as a kind friend told me today. "That probably wasn't possible. Could it have been 101?" Sure could have. Who knows? All I know is that I was freezing and had those flu dreams all night. You, know, where the cookie is chasing you around the living room of the house you grew up in. Doesn't everyone have those when they get a fever?

So, in order to be productive in VBS tomorrow I should head to bed now. I have a million entries to write...but they are all in my head. Argh. Hope to get some writing time soon. In the meantime, head over to Dr. Paris' blog. Another entry that made me want to hug her...and I've never even met her.

Peace!

Linked

In anticipation of nine years, this was devotion material today.

Ideal Age

During our travels, I found myself waxing nostalgic for years gone by...well, not really, but it is a good introduction to this very random post.

I decided that if I were to "do" any age over again, 16 months might be a good place to hang out for a while.

+You are able to move on your own, but everyone is anxious to hold you and cuddle if need be.
+You are just beginning to try new things and everyone offers grace for those attempts. Your successes are cheered and your failures are triumphs of your adventurous spirit.
+You'll hear the word "no" (at least in our family) but you are still mostly open to redirection. The "oh, look there is a robin out the window" variety of discipline, my husband and I coined it while traveling.
+Let's talk about how cute fat thighs look.
+Two naps a day.
+Boundless energy.
+Pure joy over all the new things in the world.
+Complete adoration of all family members.
+Everyone, and I mean everyone, thinks you are cute. And, they stop to tell you often.

Yep, looks like a very fun age to me.

I would not, however, under any circumstance, want to redo 3.5 years. Wowzers...that looks like a PAINFUL stage of development. (to all involved.)

+In the course of one day, BB went from clinging to me asking if he could still breastfeed to walking across a restaurant to ask a hostess if she "had a place he could throw away his wrapper."
It results in parenting whiplash, so I can only imagine how his little being feels.

A Year Ago

A year ago I walked into your hospital room. I pulled up a chair near you for the last time. Always in control, this moment was no exception. Except there was a new intentionality to our meeting. Your need to direct and control had new grace behind it.

You were someone who could look me in the eye as I walked into the kitchen, and with a smile say, "I need to ignore you right now. I'll be upstairs on the computer." You'd leave the room and I would just know you were still there, even in the face of your direct rejection.

But this day, you were there. With passion. Attentiveness. Intentionality. You knew. I knew. We both pretended to focus on this photo. Perhaps you were focused on it. I was just trying to make the visit last as long as possible, while also avoiding your direct questioning.

You wanted to know how my husband was. Our marriage. Its future.
New life blooms, a year later.

You asked how I was taking care of myself. What I was doing. Goals. Hopes.
Growth comes slowly.

You ordered Dick out of the room. My sister came in and out. You and I sat huddled together. Nothing breezy or subtle about you.

Then you got tired and I saw you fading. I have never wanted to leave your side and this day was particularly hard. You walked us out to the lobby. From a distance you met EG for the only time. But in typical fashion a baby was no match for your attention towards the task at hand.

In our last embrace I felt every hug we had shared. You no longer had the hair I loved to comb, but you passionately, gently stroked mine instead. I can still feel your hands there, as the elevator ding-ed its arrival and departure behind us. At some point Dick joined us and the three of us stood together. Embracing all that was, and what was to come. In one last move you held a strand of my hair, told me how gorgeous I was, how much you loved me.

And then it had to end. We said good-bye.

Back from Vacation

I like to share anything that promotes the greatness that is my home state.

Amazing Daisy

These daisies were put out for a party on June 17th.

I just took them down* on July 4th.
Way to go, Daisies!




*By saying, "I just took them down" I mean, I should have taken them down on the 4th. They were done being pretty.
They are actually still up.

Blisters and Blogs

Check out Peacebang's Beauty Tips for Ministers blog today...the letter she posts is from ME. He, he!

As the Senior Pastor and Council President were telling me to "just go barefoot," in the face of blistered feet in new shoes, my first thought was... "So not going to happen." My very next thought was, "I have to tell Peacebang about this, she will laugh and understand how odd that would be."

I am old enough (perhaps only in spirit) that all of this blogging and facebook and social networking and "virtual" friends, whew, is pretty new to me. Every once in awhile I have to step back and say, "Whoa...this is odd, and perhaps, not so healthy." But, I also think exchanges this like simple, goofy one are so fun. I am genuinely thankful for many of the "bloggers" whose thoughts and reflections I read each day. I am glad to hear their voice and "listen" to their thoughts. I am thankful for an insight into a larger world. If not for this new form of communication, we might never have connected. Without the likes of Peacebang and others, who would understand the real life crazy world I live in.

Bare feet at the altar, indeed. :)

Sneaky

I will always remember the look on BB's face when I told him he didn't need to take a nap today. It was about nine months ago. He started to cry and I said, "Ok. You don't need to take a nap. You don't need to sleep. But you need to be in your room for a quiet time." He was so giddy with this new plan.

Of course, 10 mins later he was a sleep, waking 3 hours later.

The quiet time plan has worked well since then. Until recently. He's nearing an age when some kids stop napping. So I'm prepared that some days he just isn't tired. And then some days he still naps for hours on end. (I know, I know...I am VERY thankful.) But in his age and maturity (I use that term very loosely) he can also fight on through the tired. Last month I knew he needed to lay down, and was just fighting it. So I helped him snugle in. I read a book. He still wanted to get up. So I told him we going to try something new.

"Just close your eyes and stay in bed for 5 mins. In 5 mins I will come back, and if you are still awake you can get up." He went for it. Great day in the morning. And sure enough, 2 hours later he popped out of bed. "I ended up sleeping for a 'iddle' bit Mommy."

Part of me feels a bit guilty every time he asks to "do that shing where I just close my eyes for a 'iddle' bit, ok, Mommy?" But hey, it works, and best of all we both feel like we are in control of the situation.

Double "HA" to both of us. :)

All or Nothing

A few months ago, I posted a link to an article from Fidelia's Sisters on my facebook page. Click the link to see the article. It was titled, There *is* such a thing as part-time ministry. It gave good advice and offered me the needed validation I craved. In the face of my seminary classmates "getting ahead" of me (although we don't really talk that way or think of our careers/callings in the same corporate model...but I think we all take note of the tracks everyone is heading off on.) I have twinges of jealousy...mixed with fear that I am, indeed, falling behind by remaining "on family leave" for so long.

But, I'm not actually sure there is such a thing as 'part time' when it comes to ministry. (or the Christian life...) I am hired (not an offical call) to serve a very, very specific population of a congregation for 10 hours a week. This includes preaching and leading worship, each once a month. On paper it looks to be very part-time, right?

Except when things like this past week happen. In passing on Sunday a person mentioned something about a change in their life...and then went on to talk about the actual conversational topic. There were a number of people around and I was proped at the edge of the conversation (although the news was meant for me to learn) so I let the comment pass. It was shocking to learn the news and I have been thinking about it ever since and how to best re-engage the conversation next Sunday. Now, the family nor the person who told me fits into my defined job description. Neither does the other member of the family who was the only one who came to my office hours at the coffee shop on Monday. The 70 year old who chatted with me had other reasons for wanting to talk but it wasn't until she was leaving that I tied her to first part of this story and begin to wonder how I could have helped her given the news.

All of this is fairly typical and even, mundane, pastoral stuff. Very much the day to day workings of parish ministy. But it isn't part time. People don't fit in job descriptions like that, do they.

This is exactly why I have found it easier to take an all or nothing approach up until now. I thought I was just putting my big toe back in...but it is a slippery slope and unless you catch yourself on a branch on the way down, you're feet will be in the water and then your leg and pretty soon, who knows, your whole body may be under. And, perhaps, that is the point of our calling after all. Walking around wet and fully emersed*.

Check out the Fidelia's Sisters blog...great articles on women and ministry.


*don't write me on boundries...I have very healthy professional boundries. Don't worry. :)

Walking My Walk

I picked up The Unlikely Disciple by Kevin Roose on a whim at B and N last week. The subtitle is, "A Sinner's Semester at America's Holiest University," which seemed pretty interesting. I always like a bit of religious voyeurism. Plus, I am truly fascinated by the theological divides in the Christian family. My driving interest into religion has always been my interest in how people, of any faith or none, create meaning in their life.

And of course, being a sinner myself, part of me just wanted more fuel for my "what is wrong with them?" thoughts on fundamental Christianity. Or in a more (or would it be less) thoughtful approach, how can my more moderate Theology of the Cross help frame/heal the wounds evangelical fundamentalism leaves on those around me?

For those that want to read the book, I recommend it. Easy, easy read. I won't say too much more in way of a book review except it is a young man, raised in a Quaker tradition who leave Brown U. to attend a semester at Libery University. Ala Rev. Jerry Falwell. The video link gives an overview.

I feel as if I live this experiment every other week in my MOPS group. You can find my struggles/rants about MOPS in other entries. This fall will be my 4th year of feeling like a theological, political and cultural alien. Of course at first I was 'faking it until I make it' in motherhood as well, so that added to the overwhelming sense of "outsider-ness."

As I read this book, I decided to make peace with my time among the evangelical fundamentals and become more authentic in who I am among "them." I have usually been the quiet one in my groups. I have never shared any hurts, struggles or prayer requests. Never allowing anyone in too far. Which has only served to leave me further out. I participated by making a joke or adding a thought on only the most benign of topics. I haven't wanted to be too controversial or to alienate myself too far from the herd. Plus, they bring out the worst case of competitiveness...I feel this need to prove or justify my Christianity among them...with everyone working so hard to show how Christian they are, it is very hard for me not to want to join in. But I know I can't in their eyes, so I have just given up and remain silent.

Most likely no one else is thinking about this as much I am as we sip our coffee, craft it up, and take a moment to ponder better parenting. Nor is anyone else making it in to a theological competition. Probably all they see is a silent, moody woman who isn't much fun to be around. One who feels a bit like a alien, not only in the room but in her own skin. That's a feeling, for better or worse, I would like to shed. It has got to feel better than the alternative.

Nada

I have no good excuse, and I apologize for my two month absence. I didn't realize I had been gone so long.

Ok, I no longer have my thyroid. So, there is that. Summer started; which means I gain free time and lose structure.

Today, my news is that I think I used an illustration from my life in a sermon that I had used before. Argh. I have no proof of this, but just an inkling as I began to tell it. Professional hazard and bad habit of being a supply preacher (never in the same congregation on a given Sunday...get sloppy.) So, that is a bit embarrassing...if only to me.

Last night my husband labeled us the Postal Carriers of House Hunting. I still laugh as I think about it. As the town grew dark with thunder clouds around 7:30pm, I urged us on to drive by a house. Rain began. Leaves and untamed garbage cans flew across the street. Rain pounded down. It came from the north and when we turned towards it, the streets around us looked very much like the ones Al Roker stands on in a hurricane, clutching a stop sign as a lifesaver.
We pressed on to the house.
It was absurd.
My obsession with house hunting is nearing a frantic level.

And what I realized as we risked flood waters and backed up streets, is that perhaps I should find some calm in this storm to just be grateful and find contentment.

I like our house. I want to be grateful about it. I don't really want to pack up boxes or load a van. I just have a new hobby. One I am apparently very dedicated to.

I'll be back...sooner than later.