tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61666993357537435642024-03-13T09:55:01.964-04:00FemitasAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-44593927705220825302011-11-06T18:22:00.000-05:002011-11-06T18:22:12.803-05:00ConfessionWhen we were starting to research Orthodoxy I was a little wary of confession. I am an American. We don't like other people to tell us what to do. The idea, as I understood it at the time, was that I had to go tell some guy all my deep dark secrets or else God wasn't going to forgive me.<br />
When we had decided we would be converting to Orthodoxy, and I was preparing for my first confession, it was more like a hurtle in a race. I knew I had to run a course, and this was part of that course. I wanted to finish this race, and so I was going to learn to jump the hurtle.<br />
After my first confession, I realized confession was not an obligation, it was a privilege. I don't have to go to confession, I get to go to confession. It's not a hurtle in a foot race, it's a pit stop in a car race. Not something I'm striving to make it past but that I am just trying to keep going until.<br />
Maybe it is all a matter of perspective.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-12330247580761750542011-06-27T01:07:00.000-04:002011-06-27T01:07:25.359-04:00Agia SkepiI have been trying to think of what to write about my pilgrimage to the monastery. There are things that are very hard to put into words. I'm going to give a basic account of what my days consisted of. (Leaving out some bits of information that are a little too private for the unfettered internet. If you want to ask me about it I'd be happy to talk to you in person.)<br />
<br />
My drive up was a series of wind, traffic, rain, and hail. When I arrived at the monastery I was surprised to learn that I had beat the storm (by hours) and instead of rushing to the guest house trying to keep my things dry I gladly sat on the porch in the sun and listened to the birds and smelled the sister's amazing roses while I waited for my friends to arrive. I had arrived in the middle of Compline & Vespers, which I didn't know, and the whole property was empty and silent. There was something that originally stuck me as unreal about the place. Even the air was different. After some time, and some talk with friends, I realized it wasn't UNREAL, it was HYPER-REAL. This place was more real than anywhere else I had ever been before.<br />
The guest house is laid out and organized like the world's greatest hostel. When Joanna arrived she took me into the church for the end of Vespers. The smell, of course, was intoxicating. The chanting was breathtaking. The language was Greek, which might have been a problem, but I will get to that in a moment. After vespers Sister Marina showed us to our room. Sister Marina is a tall pretty woman. As I typed pretty I realized that I would have described all the sisters as pretty, though they are all different shapes, sizes, and ages. I think the reason I feel compelled to describe them as pretty, or even beautiful, is because the love and humility they each have make it impossible to see them as anything else. People talk about inner beauty, this was so much inner beauty that it was spilling out of them.<br />
Sister Marina is in charge of the guesthouse and she made sure we had food, pillows, clean sheets, and work. By Friday I was starting to listen hard for Sister Marina before meals so that I could go out and help her set the tables, otherwise she would do it so quickly and quietly it was almost like everything appeared there magically. I never felt tempted to just let her do it, which of course she wouldn't have minded, because the warmth of her thanks for even the smallest task (like filling a pitcher with tap water) was intoxicating. She tried to teach me a Greek phrase, which of course I can't transliterate, it is like thank you, but it literally means "you have lightened me". Her task is hospitality, and she is certainly up to it.<br />
I tried to take a walk around the lower grounds at least once a day, it was just so pretty and so peaceful. Sometimes, especially if I was walking with Joanna who has been a regular at the Monastery for the last 15 years, a sister would stop and talk and we would be introduced. They would ask if I was Orthodox, and I would say "Not until July 30th" and each sister would say "Oh I will remember you in my prayers, especially on that day". Joanna says that having one of the sisters promise to pray for you is not like having someone else promise to pray for you, they mean it and they don't say it lightly. (Though they do say it often!!) One sister told us about the icons in the church and found us an <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akathist">akathist</a> book in English to chant with a very special icon.<br />
If you want to work, there is always work to do! On our first day we peeled garlic. There would have been too much for the punch bowl they gave us to put the peeled cloves in. Thankfully, the Greek men staying in the guesthouse while they did construction for the sisters kept coming through and eating garlic like peanuts. On Friday and Saturday we picked rose petals for jelly and helped Kyria Maria make wedding and baptism favors. Kyria Maria is a Greek woman whose family has designed wedding dresses, favors, candles, and the like for 3 or more generations. She is not a nun, but works at the monastery, and is a gifted artist. She has a way of upholding her perfectionist standards without hurting your feelings. (I now have it on good authority that I am not capable of wrapping candy covered almonds in tulle!) I thought I was crafty, but Kyria Maria is on a whole new level.<br />
We talked with her for hours while we worked. She asked me about my background and I asked questions about Orthodox traditions. The conversations were slow, because her English is limited and my Greek is non-existent, but there was no rush.<br />
Church was something else entirely. On Friday morning, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nativity_of_St._John_the_Forerunner">Feast of the Nativity of the Forerunner</a>, we went to Divine Liturgy at 3:30 in the morning. Of all the services we attended while we were there, this was my favorite. Partly, it was easier to keep up after Joanna was sweet enough to give me an early Chrismation gift, my very own prayer book in English. Partly it was ambiance. The church was lit only by oil lamps and candles. The sisters added a black veil to their habits in church. It didn't cover the face, but it cast a shadow. It made the sisters indistinguishable from one another. All you could see was a black shape and hands. It struck me as profound. These women found fulfillment, love, and joy in losing themselves to Christ's service. I pray that one day I can tame my passions and my desires are so simple and Godward.<br />
Also on Friday I met the Father of the monastery, Fr. Mark. He is a Texan man who has been speaking mostly Greek for the last 20 years or so. It gives a very interesting quality to his big voice. He spoke to me about the importance of confession and absolution. He answered a question I had about iconography with a lesson in my inability to work out my salvation without the grace and love of Christ. And it was an AMAZING lesson! He told me there are a few monasteries near where I would be moving in Oregon and advised me to build a relationship with one.<br />
On Saturday I met the Gerontissa, or Abbess, of the Monastery. (That is not a literal translation but an equivalent rank.) I had learned from Joanna that I was supposed to touch the ground in front of her and then kiss her left hand, but as a bent to touch the ground she embraced me and kissed my cheek. She wears love like a perfume. I keep thinking of it as a smell. It wasn't something I saw, though her eyes are kind and her smile is gentle. It's not her voice, though she has a beautiful voice whether she is speaking or singing. It's just something that I was aware of. You don't need her to look at you or speak to you to know that she loves you. In fact, you don't even have to meet her if you are willing to take my word for it that she loves you, even if she doesn't know you. She asked me about my conversion. She asked me about my husband. She told me that I should consider the monastery my home in the mountains. She also said I had to come back as often as I can until we move, and bring Brian with me. She ended our little chat by telling me that not only were there a few monasteries on the wets coast, but in fact their sister monastery was in Yakima, Washington and that I should go there as soon as I could and they would welcome me.<br />
One of the more poignant moments was the last interaction I had before we drove off. Kyria Maria said in her broken English, "You must come back before you move so that we can go to Holy Communion together, we will be together." I almost cried.<br />
I was changed for the better, and I am trying to make sure that I don't let it wear off. I don't know if I communicated any of this well, but there it is. It was good for me to work out for myself. I hope it is helpful for someone who reads it.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">O Lady, Thou dost help us held fast by a storm of many afflictions: for Thou dost stand before the altar of the Lord, lifting Thine hands and praying that the Lord of glory look down on our unworthy prayer and hearken to the petitions of those who call upon Thy holy Name crying to Thy Son:</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><i>Alleluia!</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><i><br />
</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><i><a href="http://www.angelfire.com/planet/parastos/akathistprotection.html">Kontakion 4 - Akathist to the Holy Protection of the Theotokos</a></i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-40704082818460017312011-06-11T05:43:00.000-04:002011-06-11T05:43:57.237-04:00The FutureBrian and I will be moving in approximately 90 days. We are packing only what we can fit into our Subaru, shipping the car across the country, and then heading out ourselves with our faithful puppy Peanut and misanthropic feline Anubis.<br />
No, we do not have jobs. No, we do not have a place to live. But we do have a church, a partner, and a plan. We visited <a href="http://www.annunciationorthodoxchurch.org/about.html">Church of the Annunciation</a> in Milwaukie, Oregon when we were visiting Brian's family in April. When I came into the church I felt warm and many of my apprehension about moving to the other side of the country were softened. I knew that this ridiculous plan was a good one.<br />
We, along with our friend Mylo, want to eventually have a farm (or manor as Mylo prefers to describe it) with a house and out buildings made of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cob_(material)">Cob</a>. We want to live off of the land, and support ourselves by producing things. We want to extricate ourselves from consumer culture. We want to produce most of what we need in life. For those things we can't produce we want to barter first and buy second. We want to fund the buying by producing, not by working for some business. Eventually, we want to produce enough to care for people we encounter who, through infirmity or ignorance, can not care for themselves.<br />
We have always had this sort of idea in the back of our heads. We have always dreamed of a self-sufficient farm. But now we are done with dreaming, we are doing. Sure, we are starting with little steps, but we are acting and we are not allowing ourselves to fall into a complacent lifestyle of "one day" thinking. Our conversion is a big part of this decision.<br />
There is a sense that by leaving Luther's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Five_solas">Five Solas</a> behind our lives must change. Just as leaving Sola Scriptura behind means relearning how to study Scripture and Theology; leaving Sola Fide changes how you make life choices. I am not saying that moving to a farm in Oregon and churning goat's milk somehow saves anyone. I am saying that when you understand that the eternal health of your soul is linked in a very real way to what you do on earth you start to think a little harder about the choices you make.<br />
So off we go, to find a temporary house, some temporary jobs, and maybe even get some (permanent) Bachelor's Degrees from one of Oregon's fine, and fairly priced, universities. Oregonian culture does make our agrarian goals a little easier, but the main goal of our move is psychological. We are purging ourselves of all of those things we didn't realize we held. We are rejecting the Puritanical (and ultimately Unitarian) ideals so ingrained in East Coast thinking. We are rejecting the race to see how much can be gotten. We are rejecting the idea that punching a clock and pushing buttons in an effort to help others consume makes you productive. We are rejecting the idea that good and monetarily profitable are the same thing. Instead we are embracing the holistic ideals of the Eastern church and look forward (if that is how to say it) to seeing how much we can manage to live without while working to produce tangible, and good, things.<br />
It may seem silly, but *MY* ultimate goal is to be able to sit in silence for extended periods of time without anxiety. I want to understand what it means to <a href="http://bibleresources.bible.com/passagesearchresults.php?passage1=psalm+46&passage2=&passage3=&passage4=&passage5=&version1=9&version2=0&version3=0&version4=0&version5=0&Submit.x=0&Submit.y=0">"be still and know that I am God."</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-44233433062094224872011-03-25T11:42:00.000-04:002011-03-25T11:42:30.979-04:00Bittersweet Feast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-gm1JXmff4_E/TYywSV74zuI/AAAAAAAAAEg/VCVVSJg6xPQ/s1600/Singapore_Annunciation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-gm1JXmff4_E/TYywSV74zuI/AAAAAAAAAEg/VCVVSJg6xPQ/s200/Singapore_Annunciation.jpg" width="160" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">Today is the prelude of joy for the universe!</span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">Let us anticipate the feast and celebrate with </span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">exultation:</span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; line-height: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">Gabriel is on his way to announce the glad </span></i></span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">tidings </span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">to the Virgin;</span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; line-height: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">He is ready to cry out in fear and wonder:</span></i></span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; line-height: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">Rejoice, O Full of Grace, the Lord is with You!</span></i></span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">I have to say that The Feast of the Annunciation is a little bittersweet for me. I love the miracle of human reproduction. It is fascinating and awe-inspiring. What makes it even more so is this very feast. God The Word chose this process to redeem his race of Image Bearers. Whenever a woman has a child she is taking part in that same process. So I find myself so excited to celebrate this feast for the very first time tonight. There is the sweet.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">As I meditate on The Theotokos carrying not only Life but the Light of Light, True God of True God, the One who was in the beginning, I can't help but wonder what it was like. Women who have carried children past the first few days or weeks must have a taste of her wonder. And a very literal bitterness enters here. I am jealous. I want to understand the Incarnation and the Theotokos in the way that any woman who has given birth can. What makes it all the more painful is that many women, especially my Protestant dear ones, don't care. Today is just Friday. They have the opportunity to stand in front of Christ and His Mother and have just a glimpse of one of the most important moments in human history, and it is just Friday.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">It is a similar feeling to when I read Facebook statuses about how exhausting children are and how parents wish that kids would just nap, or that they could go out on a date without having to find a babysitter. Now I don't think these aren't real frustrations and legitimate emotions. I don't think that these friends don't love their children with all their hearts. I don't even think they should keep their frustrations to themselves. But, it stings a little. I want to respond "I would give my life and everything I have for a sleepless night with a colicky infant rather than with my own depression."</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">So as people's Facebook statuses start to pop up with everyones Friday night plans, and laments of lost pre-baby weekends I'm going to be a little bitter. Because not only don't I have the baby, but tonight I will go to church for the feast and not have the experience of knowing that feeling of life inside of me to deepen my worship.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">I think as long as I suffer from infertility this will be the hardest day of the Church Year for me.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-3220141898868303602011-03-11T04:29:00.000-05:002011-03-11T04:29:18.894-05:00Smoke Filled RoomsYou will have to forgive me as my blog becomes "Diary of a Catechumen" for awhile. It is hard to talk about anything else right now. I have not felt this way about anything since I first met Brian. I am falling in love. I am falling in love with Liturgy, Scripture, God, and smoke-filled rooms. All things I thought I loved before, and yet have discovered in such a new and wonderful way.<br />
I spent a lot of time in smoked filled rooms, back when you could smoke inside. Nothing was easy to see when the smoke got really thick. Faces were distorted and it changes the qualities of light. I can't explain it but it even seemed to make bass seem heavier.<br />
I couldn't help but think of Nocturne, a goth club I use to go to, at Presanctified Liturgy on Wednesday night. Not that there is all that much in common between the two, except the smoke. I was watching <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_doors">The Royal Doors</a> and the icons began to be less and less clear and the embroidery of the veil less sharp. I don't want to claim that I had any deep revelations about God or the nature of prayer. I did have a revelation about myself. It was like I looked back and saw how far I have come in the last 7 years.<br />
I think I prefer my life now, as dull as it can seem when I am working yet another Friday night. If my world is going to seem hazy and far away I would rather it be because I am lost in a haze of prayer instead of cigarette smoke. And if my hair is going to smell I'd rather it be incense than tobacco.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-64798317084633818072011-03-06T02:58:00.000-05:002011-03-06T02:58:39.936-05:00Another Step On Our Road<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-vCbJgzij4kw/TXM6MRDB_GI/AAAAAAAAAEc/maW1gI5PgKc/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-vCbJgzij4kw/TXM6MRDB_GI/AAAAAAAAAEc/maW1gI5PgKc/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">About 6 weeks ago Brian and I were talking about our life. He had been filling out the paperwork to begin his postulancy in the Reformed Episcopal Church. We had a plan for our life and everything was working out. Then, after the Christmas break, Brian was getting so exhausted that he was falling asleep everywhere. It became very clear that he could not continue working and going to school full time. There was something that just was not right with the whole process.</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">At the same time we were deciding what to do about Brian’s school I started preparing a Bible Study on Esther for my Ladies’ Bible Study. I don’t know how well you know Esther, but there are 2 versions of the book. The Eastern & Oriental Orthodox Churches along with the Roman Catholic Church have a longer and more fleshed out version of the book. The Protestant church uses a version of the Old Testament based on a different text, which excludes some various sections. I decided to get my hands on an Orthodox Bible so that I could read the “extra” text. Abuna Raphael, a Coptic Orthodox priest we know, was generous enough to give us a copy of “The Orthodox Study Bible”.</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">As we looked at the Bible and discussed our lives and our future I was pressed with the thought that we needed to look at Orthodoxy again. We had been dissuaded easily just before our</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">wedding by Abuna Raphael. Our only real exposure had been in the Coptic Orthodox Church. We have had wonderful experiences with St. George’s in Norristown, but it was clearly not the place for us. First, the Oriental Orthodox Church, of which the Coptic Church is a part, is non-chalcedonian, and Brian and I do hold to the Council of Chalcedon. Second, the Coptic Church, like many branches of Orthodoxy, is primarily ethnic, meaning it is for Egyptians, in Arabic and/or Coptic.</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">So we turned to the one of the most useful gifts God has given modern man, Google. We did our research and discovered that there are branches of Orthodoxy that are less ethnically oriented. First there are the Antiochians, as in the Church at Antioch in the New Testament. While they are, or at least were until relatively recently, primarily Middle-Eastern Christians, they are more evangelical than most branches and have in the last 30 years been populated by more and more Protestant converts. Second, there is the Orthodox Church of America (OCA) which is the child, as it were, of the Russian Orthodox Church. The Russians brought Christianity to America via Alaska and the church they planted there spread throughout the continent and became the OCA. The Divine Liturgy is in English and the population of these churches is a melting pot of Protestant and other converts, people who were raised in ethnic Orthodox churches by immigrant parents and grandparents but who are thoroughly American themselves, and beautiful old ladies from “The Old Country” whichever country that might be.</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">We decided to take a week and talk with an Orthodox priest and see an Orthodox service in English. We went down to St Michael the Archangel Church in Wilmington, which is OCA. One week turned into two and three and four. I was in love with the Liturgy, and more in love with Christ than I think I have ever been. We began to read everything we could get our hands on.</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">We learned how the New Testament Church grew into the Eastern Orthodox Church and how those first century churches maintained the teaching of Christ and the Apostles for 2000 years.</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">We realized how much of our personal theology, the beliefs and impressions that we had gleaned from out own learning and study, were in line with the teachings of the Orthodox Church. We were in awe of how much of a shift we DIDN’T have to make.</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">Everyone warned us that we would need to learn to understand and speak in different language about God and theology. This was definitely true, the language is different, words don’t always mean the same thing in the East as they do in the West. But the things we thought were points of divergence were actually points of semantics. We had inadvertently, and we’ve come to believe by the leading of The Holy Spirit, become Orthodox without the Orthodox Church. There is no other way to say it, as cliche as it has become among Protestant converts to Orthodoxy, we had come home.</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">So that is where we are. We are leaving Anglicanism for Orthodoxy. I won’t say it wasn’t an easy decision to make, because praise the Lord, the actual decision seemed to make itself. But it hasn’t been an easy decision to carry out. We love our family in the Reformed Episcopal Church, and our actual families have been Protestant for generations. We learned last year that Brian’s great-great-etc-grandfather planted the first Anglican churches in this area. This is a departure from many things that we love and hold very dear.</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">We are sad to leave people who we love, and who love us, behind. But we are filled with so much joy to be joining ourselves to the church of the Apostles and Church Fathers. We hope and pray that no one is hurt by the path we are taking, but if we turned away from the path laid before us by The Holy Spirit then we would be putting those potential hurt feelings ahead of Christ, and we can’t do that.</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.15; text-indent: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">Some people may have a lot of questions, and we would welcome any and all of them. Some people may have concerns, and we will do our best to answer them. Some people may have criticisms, and those we would ask you keep to yourself. If you are just curious about our journey and the answers we have found there is a book we can recommend. It is called “Becoming Orthodox” by Fr. Peter Gilquist and it answers Protestant questions about why one might choose to journey into Eastern Orthodoxy better than I ever could.</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-49352252734478336472010-11-22T05:15:00.000-05:002010-11-22T05:15:16.683-05:00Self-DefenseConservative :<br />
–adjective<br />
1. disposed to preserve existing conditions, institutions, etc., or to restore traditional ones, and to limit change.<br />
<br />
<br />
I need to say this. I am literally being kept awake by this train of thought.<br />
<br />
For those that don't know, I have a nose ring and red hair, like RED red. I am now closer to 30 than I am to 25. I have some ideas that would be classified as socialist after the 19th Century, though it is mostly about caring for the poor and less about Marxist philosophy. I went through a rebellious phase in my late teens and early twenties, but really in the scheme of things my rebellion was minor. I have been in 4 different formal education programs in 3 states and 2 continents, though I never graduated. I am incredibly well read. If you know my father there is a very good chance that he is the smartest person you know, and quite a lot of my informal education came from him. He did not so much teach me what to think, but how to think.<br />
<br />
There are certain people who have known me since I was young who seem to believe because I never took my nose ring out and I like my hair to be funny colors, I must still be that crazy college kid. I am some crazy, liberal, punk rock nut. Well this is my least confrontational way to be confrontational.<br />
<br />
I am more conservative than all of you.<br />
<br />
No I don't vote exclusively Republican, but I'm not talking about American politics. I am talking about centuries of tradition and philosophy which you reject because it isn't trendy. I am talking about choosing your religious convictions based on 20th century pop-theology instead of what every branch of the Christian church taught for the previous 19 centuries.<br />
<br />
I cover my head in church because the Bible says to do it for the sake of the angels. I believe in breastfeeding, and natural medicine because I believe that God is smarter than scientists. I attend a liturgical church because I believe that the church is not a building, or even all the Christians on earth, but every believer who has ever lived and so by using the same prayers, Psalms, and movements that have been used for 2000 years I am worshiping with everyone else who has used those prayers, Psalms, and movements. I am a Neoplatonist like St. Augustine, Origen, and C.S. Lewis. I believe that truth is truth. I believe in traditional gender roles because the point of Genesis is not to be a science book but to tell us about the character of God. It shows us that without understanding what makes men men and women women we will never understand what makes God God. I believe that God created everything on earth for our benefit and that moderation shows character and prohibition shows weakness. To quote St. Augustine, "Complete abstinence is easier than perfect moderation." I keep my nose ring because <a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1sPinZYX93mzN4rzs4bixrsVDLHW_SQHyFvWvuCFKQNs/edit#">God thinks it's beautiful.</a> I dye my hair because I think its beautiful and God doesn't give me any direction against it.<br />
<br />
I am not upset that people don't embrace my opinions or insights. But never claim it's because I'm liberal. Never claim that it is because I am rebellious. Never claim that it is because my ideas are unsubstantiated. Never claim it is because my opinions are uneducated. Never claim it is because I am young. I am an adult. I am informed. I am traditional. I am a Christian. I am conservative. I am sorry if that makes you have to admit your opinions of me are based on shallow sensibilities or extra-biblical philosophies, but that's how it is.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-92193708666530603392010-11-09T12:57:00.001-05:002010-11-09T14:01:21.425-05:00Housekeeping<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_v6QTCWzj2Og/TNl80z3fD6I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/SYDEyC3puV8/s1600/younghousewife.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_v6QTCWzj2Og/TNl80z3fD6I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/SYDEyC3puV8/s200/younghousewife.jpg" width="165" /></a></div>I think one of the jobs of a wife and a mother is to build and maintain a sanctuary for the ones she loves. Your home should be a place where your husband comes home at the end of a long day and feels at rest.<br />
<br />
Well I suck at it. I get my house together and I have these great intentions. I don't know what happens after that. Its like entropy is stronger than I am. Then things get so bad that its overwhelming and I know it would take a whole day to get everything together, so I wait for a free day. Well by the time that day rolls around it gets so that it would take me a whole weekend. So I wait for a free weekend (which we never have). By the time a free weekend rolls around it is so bad that I would need a few days. See a pattern?<br />
<br />
Brian and I are going to attack everything during the next couple of weeks... again. I have gotten my other stuff in order. I'm eating right. I'm exercising 6 days a week. I am in a time of change, I am forming new habits. I want to do whatever I have to do for home to be a haven for Brian when he comes home. I want a home that I would be proud to bring children into.<br />
<br />
It is my job. I need to, in the terminology of the Roman church, build a domestic church. I need to ask myself, when I look at my home, how would I respond if I walked into a church and the sanctuary looked like my house looks. In this home I am the minister. It is through my work that my husband and future children are reminded of God's grace. I should maintain an environment that reminds them of God's provision in providing us a home. I should prepare meals that feed their bodies, but also makes them thankful for God's provision in feeding their bellies with something they enjoy.<br />
<br />
When I was a kid we would go gem mining. I have sapphires and amethysts that I found in the dirt and they look like rocks. They have value because of what they are, but it is hard to appreciate them in that state. God's gifts are a lot like that. God provides a roof over our heads, but if its falling apart then it feels like a burden on us instead of a blessing. Food is always a blessing, but if it tastes bland or like chemicals then we are tempted to ask why we can't have good food. If I've done my job right then God's gifts to us should be more apparent then they were before.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">"Marriage is more than human. It is a 'microbasileia,' a miniature kingdom which is the little house of the Lord." - St. Clement of Alexandria</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-55726715006786900542010-10-05T00:43:00.000-04:002010-10-05T00:43:28.183-04:00Religion vs RelationshipI have been flooded with notices in my Facebook news feed that say "Christianity is a Relationship not a Religion click if you agree" or some other variation on that theme. I think at least 3 people a day of my modest number of Facebook friends click on of these "likes". At first I just shook my head and thought how trite the whole idea seemed. Then I started to get a little concerned. Then it happened again today and I decided it was time to say something. I have been thinking about what I wanted to say about this for awhile now.<br />
Christianity is not a relationship with Jesus Christ. Period. Having a relationship with Jesus Christ is an important part of Christianity, but if that is where it ends, then you have a relationship with a figment of your imagination. A true relationship with Jesus Christ compels you to do as he commands. He commands you to take part in Baptism and Holy Communion. Whatever your particular theology says the significance of these things are, all orthodox theologies, and even most heterodox theologies acknowledge that there is no salvation outside of The Church. The Church is defined as the body of believers. Baptism is the point you are grafted into that body. Communion is the point where the central vine feeds the branches. Without being part of the vine, or being fed from the vine you will turn brown, whither, and eventually fall off.<br />
A relationship is not enough. Just like, I have a relationship with my husband, we had one for about 18 months before our wedding, that did not make me his wife. If I loved him, if I wanted to be a part of him, I had to DO something. Loving him was enough of a reason to marry him, but the act of loving him was not enough to be married to him. I had to say vows in front of our clergyman, in our church, surrounded by the important people in our lives. The place people say those vows, and who is there to hear them is different for different couples, but the basic vows remain the same.<br />
Our relationship with Christ is the same, we are either taught from infancy to love him or we come to love him later in life and that brings us into the Church, but we must be baptized and make a public profession in order to be called a Christian. Every Christian tradition has this, if it is a pedobaptist tradition then the child is baptized shortly after birth and then is confirmed when they are old enough to make a profession, or, in an anabaptist tradition the baptism itself serves both purposes.<br />
If I'm married to my husband but I move out and I never see him, maybe we talk on the phone or exchange emails every once in awhile, then is my marriage healthy? No. We still have a relationship, we know what's going on in each other's lives, we may even still truly and deeply care for one another, but its' not enough and eventually that relationship will fall apart. The Eucharist, or Holy Communion, is the intimacy in the relationship. I'm not trying to be too graphic here, but it is the time where we take the body of Christ into ourselves. Whether you believe in the literal transubstantiation of the elements or are at the other extreme and believe we are remembering it as the body and blood, we still all believe that it is the time that our souls are fed in a way they are not at any other time.<br />
Now I've heard other people say that "religious" people just go through motions and there is nothing behind the motions. Well anyone who has been married for more than a month or two will tell you, sometimes you go through the motions in marriage. Not because you don't love the other person, or because you aren't really married, but because we are human beings. We are emotional creatures and emotions ebb and flow, some days we FEEL a lot of love for our spouse, and sometimes we FEEL like our spouse is a pain in the ass. I can think of plenty of Sundays when I went to church and I felt drained, exhausted, and wanted to be home in my jammies. So why did I go to church? Because I was going through the motions. My tradition makes that easier than some others, the prayer book tells me what to say and do every step of the way. Does that mean that when I leave I still feel drained and like I should have stayed home in bed? Sometimes, if I'm being honest, yes. But most of the time I am glad I went, most of the time I realized why I went, because it was the right thing to do for the one I love and pleasing him is a reward in and of itself. Even if I am still exhausted, and since I work the night-shift on Saturdays that is most weeks, I at least get to leave with the knowledge that I was obedient and that I've pleased The Lord.<br />
Brian works nights as well, and more nights of the week than I do, plus he is in school during the week. On nights he is working and I am at home I stay awake until his "lunch" break at 2am. We both log onto Google Talk and we chat about our days, what needs to be done around the house, what is going on with the people I see versus the people he sees. There are a lot of days I need to be awake in the late morning and it would be nice to get that extra hour or two of sleep, but that is something I do to feed my relationship with my husband. Because having a relationship with him is not enough, there are things we have to do because of the relationship.<br />
I am not the one who compares Christ and his Church to a Man and his Wife, God is. And I am not the one who defines the offices of the Church as religion, the definition of the English word religion is. Religion is not a dirty word, it is "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">a</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">specific</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">fundamental</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">set</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">of</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">beliefs</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">and</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">practices</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">generally </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">agreed</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">upon</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">by</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">a</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">number</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">of</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">persons</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">or</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">sects" </span></span> So why are we trying to seperate ourselves from God's plan for us? Why do we let the world tell us that being "religious" is bad or ugly.<br />
Every time someone says "I'm not religious, I just love Jesus" I feel the same as when a couple is living together and they say "We love each other and getting married won't change anything". As a religious married woman both of those statements make me sad, because you are missing the point of loving Christ and loving another person if you don't take that love and put it in the context it was designed to be in. Everything is better in context.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-81741420000210231512010-08-25T02:33:00.001-04:002010-08-25T02:37:53.650-04:00HateI have watched the bile and hatred build up in all my politically right leaning acquaintances lately about this "Ground Zero Mosque". I wasn't really clear on why everyone is up in arms about this thing. It is 2-6 blocks away from ground zero (depending on how you count and whether you are driving or walking). It isn't a mosque, it is a Muslim & Middle Eastern Cultural Center (that will have a theater, swimming pool, basketball court, gym, and a prayer room) modeled after the YMCAs and JCCs that Christians and Jews have around the country. I have heard people say they are upset because St. Nicholas' Orthodox church is not being rebuilt. But the government isn't building the center, and St. Nicholas' church will receive some tax dollars when it is rebuilt. Ground Zero is not visible from the site of the cultural center. What stands on the spot right now is a slightly damaged former Burlington Coat Factory which is sitting derelict. I can not understand why this building is so offensive to people.<br />
So I sit and I think. I try to understand. I read all the Fox News links that people post. I have only read the links that have been posted by Right-wing friends on Facebook, have only listened to discussion on Fox News, and went and got the map and Wikipedia description. My information has been overwhelmingly biased to the right. Yet, I can not make sense of the situation. Then I read a sentence in an article that talked about what "they" did to us on 9-11 and it all made sense.<br />
American Christians are allowing themselves to be influenced by the idea that somehow 9-11 was an attack on Christianity, when it was an attack on Capitalism. It was an attack on the US government, it was an attack on our consumerist culture. After this attack we feel compelled to defend ourselves with righteous anger and indignation.<br />
Why? What gives you the right to hate them, to deprive them of their right to buy a piece of property, build on it, and give their kids a place to play basketball? Where in scripture does God give you the right to hate them because they think you are a consumer ruled by money? God says to love those that curse you. God tells you to turn the other cheek. Now I'm not saying that the military would not be justified in attacking training facilities for jihadists, but we aren't talking about that, we are talking about a YMCA for Muslims. Where in scripture does it say because 16 men of a certain religion committed a horrible act of violence against a financial landmark that Christians should never allow anyone else of that religion to ever build a basketball court and prayer room with their own money on property they have obtained legally?<br />
I can't help but think about R.G. LeTourneau, who became successful and decided to live on 10% of his income and tithe 90%. He was a super-conservative, super-southern, super-baptist. Yet this, slightly socialist Anglican Yankee has nothing but respect for the man. Because he did what was right. Money was a tool God gave him, he used only what he needed and gave the rest back. Why don't we think that way? Why don't we say, "I'm glad there will be a place for children, from the most reviled people group in this nation, to play safely." ? Why do we assume the worst about their motives?<br />
Because by attacking money the 9-11 hijackers attacked our Golden Calf. The Israelites never claimed to be worshiping a god other than Jehovah. They just wanted to make an image of Him. We have recreated God in the image of the American Dollar. We swear our allegiance to the flag. We sing the Battle Hymn of the Republic in church like it has some spiritual significance. All so we can forget that the Image of God, the Imago Dei, is in the face of every single human being on earth. That to love God is to give everything for someone else, as Christ did on the cross. He hung there to save the conquering army that was ruling his nation with an iron fist and who had beaten and killed him, would set his friends on fire to light their Bacchanals, who had chopped off his cousin's head and displayed it at a state dinner.<br />
Being despised and rejected and even attacked is never divine permission to spread hate and discrimination. It is an opportunity to love more, and to give more. When you have given all you have, you have almost given enough. There should never be an end to the charity to you give. There should never be a start to the vengeance you take.<br />
So I think its great that a group of citizens have bought a piece of run down derelict property and plan to put something there that will give children and families a place to go and do constructive things in Manhattan. And I think that if you truly wanted to show the love of Christ to them, you would be glad they have a basketball court too. Because how are you loving them by what you are doing now? How are you showing them that Christ loves them and longs for a relationship with them by telling them that they can't build that basketball court just because they are Muslim?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-29285082629359341532010-07-11T01:14:00.001-04:002010-07-11T01:16:15.580-04:00Unassisted Childbirth<a href="http://www.unassistedchildbirth.com/uc/isucsafe.html">Safety Article</a> - I apologize if you are offended by the nude portrait on the site I linked to, but the information is good.<br />
I am enamored with the idea of unassisted childbirth. I want to be a midwife, because UC is not for everyone, but I go back and forth on how I feel about UC for me someday. So I thought I'd use this as a forum, what do you think?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-23757574822903823092010-07-02T02:55:00.000-04:002010-07-02T02:55:17.298-04:00Yes, I am okay, or at least I will be....I have talked about our struggle with infertility and the sadness surrounding it. I feel inclined to just be quiet about all of this, but it didn't feel quite right.<br />
On Father's Day I gave Brian a positive pregnancy test. He was thrilled, I was reserved. On Tuesday I thought I was going to puke every time I smelled even the hint of cigarette smoke. On Wednesday I spit out steak and all I wanted was raw red peppers. I let myself get excited.<br />
After the last chemical pregnancy we knew that I would not have any miscarriage symptoms, so we decided we'd take a test every week until we got a heartbeat on an Ultrasound. On Monday the test came back negative. We were shocked. I had absolutely zero desire for meat or cigarettes, that constitutes brain tumor level personality change. Sure I had stopped smoking, but not because I wanted to!<br />
Its easier and harder this time around. Its easier because it was familiar territory. It was easier because I knew it might be coming. It was harder because I have the old pain and the new pain all rolled together into one big mass in my chest.<br />
I often find the idea of an entirely sovereign deity comforting. Basically, there is nothing I can screw up, no matter what I do the train stays on the track. My fallibility is a tool in his hands, not a counterforce. I have found no comfort in it this time. It feels like the plan is to hurt me. What glory could this possibly bring to God? I've been praying for a child, and everyone knows I've been praying for a child, so wouldn't he be glorified through me keeping a baby? So what good came from this? The only things that was accomplished, that I can see, is that I am heartbroken and it has been reaffirmed that I am a screw-up. I am a screw-up at a cellular level!<br />
Prayers are appreciated and I'm not really up to talking about it anymore than I just have. It's a lot easier to "talk" about it this way. There is a lot of misinformation and differing opinion when it comes to fertility and women's health. I find very helpful people who want to tell me what their sister, mother, cousin, best-friend, or whoever did to get pregnant. I have not found a polite way to explain exactly why cough syrup might have helped your sister-in-law get pregnant but would not help me. I get very stressed out explaining to a woman who has gone through infertility, and subsequent treatment, and who understands the pain I'm feeling, that I am theologically opposed to reproductive technology. So for the time being, I will be fine, I just need time.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9px;">"O LORD of hosts if thou wilt indeed look on the affliction of thine handmaid and remember me and not forget thine handmaid but wilt give unto thine handmaid a man child then I will give him unto the LORD all the days of his life." - Hannah's Prayer</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-23553623376037753962010-04-09T05:01:00.000-04:002010-04-09T05:01:36.873-04:00DiseaseA member of my husband's family committed suicide yesterday. He was a good man. I find myself wishing that I could have known him better.<br />
I don't think I am asking the normal questions. I can't say "How could life ever seem so hopeless?" I know life can look that hopeless and death seem like the only option. So why do some people do it and some don't? Why haven't I done it? I am diagnosed as bipolar. Numbers say that anywhere from 30% - 60% of bipolar patients die of the disease, meaning they kill themselves.<br />
Some people see it as selfishness. These people are only thinking about themselves, they say. They are taking themselves away from the people that love them. They aren't taking themselves from anyone. They are victims, this is a disease. It is a disease that is growing and consuming us.<br />
We have put happiness up as the sonum bonum. We have put success as the only option. Everyone has their own definition of success, because everyone is entitled to their own definition of truth.So these people define their reality, they define their happiness, and they throw themselves into that truth. Who they are becomes synonymous with their homemade definition of happiness and success. For a teenager it is a first lover. For a business man it is the balance of his bank account. For a housewife it is a successful marriage and children. For me it was a feeling of creative significance. So when we fail we not only loose happiness, we not only lose success, we lose ourselves. It is impossible to live when you are nothing.<br />
I still fight with this. Going to work everyday isn't enough for me, because my work is not important. I sit up trying to create something everyday because the day feels wasted if I don't. The strings of time in my life where I am not making and doing bring on bouts of depression and that feeling of hopelessness. I have only recently come to the point where I can look past my definition. I can look at the definition that God gives me. The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. So everything I do should bring God glory in some way, but more then that anything I would do that would detract glory from God is off limits. I am a bearer of the Image of God, I can never be nothing.<br />
It is a disease, and just like so many things in our culture the cure we are putting out there just makes everything worse. Its a disease I have had. The medications to cure my mind almost killed my body. In the end what needed curing was my soul. When my soul found a peaceful place to rest then my mind and my body found better places. Holistic peace is the only answer. Living, praying, thinking, eating, and doing, what is wholesome and glorifying.<br />
So I cry for Ed, because he never found that peaceful place. I cry for anyone who can't seem to find it. Sometimes, I cry for myself, because I know all of this and I still eat the wrong things and live a sedentary lifestyle, I think on dark things and do not exercise my mind, I fret and do not pray. But tonight I cry for Ed and I pray that there was peace and truth awaiting him on the other side.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px;">Absolve, we beseech Thee, O Lord,<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"> </span>the soul of Thy servant<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"> </span>from every bond of sin,<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"> </span>that being raised in the glory of the resurrection,<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"> </span>he may be refreshed among the Saints and Elect.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"> </span>Through Christ our Lord.<br style="line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />Amen. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-9105273823623871022010-04-07T04:54:00.000-04:002010-04-07T04:54:26.296-04:00I Like Me TodayI discovered something this week. I kinda like myself.<br />
I remember getting guacamole on my nachos by accident as a teenager. I hated guacamole. I had tried it at some vague point in the past and hated it, but it was sitting there. I tried the green mush, and it was really good. It turns out that sometime, who knows when, I actually had grown to like guacamole.<br />
That's how I felt this week. I have never liked me before. I was one of my least favorite people. Now, I enjoy my company. I have fun sewing with myself. I now have the same hobbies as myself. I've always admired craftiness, but thought I was incapable, turns out I'm quite capable. My clothes have been changing steadily. When Grandmom died I look at my closet and realized I did not have a black dress to wear to the funeral. For the better part of my life I have not had anything but black clothes in my wardrobe. I have wanted Zulu Knots in my hair since I was 15. I would twist my hair up and love it, but talk myself out of them before a single soul every saw them. Last night, I put Zulu Knots in my hair and wore them to a wedding today.<br />
So I find myself asking, how comfortable am I in my own skin now? Do I care what anyone else thinks about my hair or my clothes or my music? If I want to listen to Joan Jett, Rufus Wainwright, Pink, and The Beatles, all in the same playlist then why is that any of your business? It's who I am and I will enjoy my playlist, hippy skirts and funky hair with me.<br />
I was surfing for free patterns on the internet and found this one pattern. It's nothing I have ever seen anyone wear. It might look absolutely ridiculous to the outside observer, but I like it. So how comfortable am I really? I think I am going to make it tomorrow. I think I may have reached a point where I am not my own biggest critic. I might even have actually become my second biggest fan.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-78671670656404296702010-03-28T02:23:00.000-04:002010-03-28T02:23:57.619-04:00My Favorite MomentOne of my favorite things in my life is preparing the table for the Eucharist on a Saturday night. The other ladies in the Altar Guild talk about getting over early and getting it out of the way. I understand the sentiment, and like all things there are days it is not as convenient or enjoyable as others, but I like to wait. I like to wait until the sun has gone down and everyone has gone home. I like to walk into the dark church. I like to turn on the single light above the altar instead of all the lights in the sanctuary. There is a palpable peace in that room then. There are no crying children, no laughing teenagers, or or chatty ladies. Brian is usually with me, but he finds a chair and a book and leaves me to my work.<br />
When I walk up into the chancel I am acutely aware of where I am and what happens there. This is the place where the greatest things in my life happen. This is where I am fed. This is where I was married. This is where I was confirmed. Even when we are in another building, another city, I will be in the same place. This is a square of earth where men have been admitted to the Holy of Holies. This square of earth, and every other square of earth set aside for this purpose are the place where Christ's presence is particular. There is nothing remarkable about it on Saturday night, but tomorrow Christ will feed all those who call upon him in that place. The bread and wine I prepare will be host to the mysterious presence of Christ.<br />
Tonight, I found myself thinking about the women going to the tomb. There was a ceremony to what they were doing, they knew the supplies they needed and the order in which to proceed. I gather my supplies and place everything properly, as I get more comfortable with the process it becomes like a dance. This ceremony held special significance because of their love of Jesus; it is the same devotion that has brought me here. There was a very practical aspect to their work, a body must be prepared properly. I take a moment to look at the calendar and decide how many people I think will be in church. Is it a holiday, or are the kids away on a trip? We want to have enough bread and wine, but not too much. I feel as if I am taking part in a tradition started late one Saturday night 2000 odd years ago.<br />
I've gone to the church on Saturday nights when things just weren't going well. There was one night that I walked through that door and all the tears I had been holding back for days came out. I just knelt in the dark with my head on the rail and cried and prayed, mostly cried. I pulled myself together and started my dance. When I was done I had thought through the problem and had some semblance of an answer. There were no voices or visions, just peace, enough peace to recognize what I should have already known.<br />
The funny thing is, I hate silence, it makes my uncomfortable. I feel like silence is an empty chasm that I might fall into. The silence in the church is different. It is full, like a feather bed, its warm and soft and all around me. It might be selfish, but I wish that I could be the Altar Guild all alone, so that I could be guaranteed that moment every week.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-38270772636065971102010-02-16T07:41:00.000-05:002010-02-16T07:41:10.904-05:00New Words For Old Thoughts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v6QTCWzj2Og/S3qSJ1CED9I/AAAAAAAAAD4/VsFtUawhUuk/s1600-h/jesus-children-icon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v6QTCWzj2Og/S3qSJ1CED9I/AAAAAAAAAD4/VsFtUawhUuk/s320/jesus-children-icon.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I said something on Sunday I had never said before. It just popped out of my mouth and it was so true but I hadn't thought it through and I hadn't planned to say it. I imagine it is what happens when fictional people fall in love without knowing it and those 3 little words just fly out.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"If my children ever came home and said 'I asked Jesus into my heart today' I think I will cry," and no I didn't mean tears if joy. It sounds weird or, if you happen to be an Evangelical, disturbing. But hear me out.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I don't remember not believing in God. I don't remember not believing in Jesus. But I do remember being told I had to have a conversion. So at five I said a prayer and it was supposed to change something, which it didn't. I still wasn't really a part of the church because I wasn't allowed either sacrament at 5. So why was it necessary? I didn't believe anything the next minute I didn't believe the minute before, or even the year before. It didn't give me access to my church. I was still an outsider looking up and in.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">No one would ever have a baby, give them to an orphanage and say, "When this baby decides they want to join our family we will welcome them with open arms." So why would we exclude our children from the church until they can chose it? Why leave them spiritual orphans until they can verbalize something in the language of adults? Is it because we only understand salvation in a personal context? Is it because we've lead ourselves and our children to believe that there is salvation outside of the church? Do we believe that we each need to make our own path to God? Do we leave our infants to find their own way to food? Why leave them to find their own way to God?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I want the opposite experience for my children. I want to give them to the Lord as soon as possible. I want to tell them from that day forward that I loved them enough to give me away. Like Hannah, I prayed to have them, I cherished them, and so I gave the most precious thing I had to the Lord. This is not a hypothetical dedication. This is not a promise. I want to allow them to be grafted into the Body of Christ. I want to grasp all of those promises for them. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">They will be part of the church from the beginning. They will know that those promises are for them. They will know that by no merit or action of theirs they are the next generation of the covenant. One day the time will come for them to receive the Body and Blood of Christ and they will have been in our arms at the rail every week. They will have known, from before they can remember, what it is and why we do it. Then when it is their turn they will take all of those promises onto and into themselves. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Finally, when they are old enough to verbalize all of these things they will stand in front of the bishop and he will ask them if they believe. They will confirm and be confirmed and they will stand on their own in the Lord, independent from me and from their father. The Lord will be the same yesterday, today and tomorrow for them. Nothing will change, if we've taught them and guided them well.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">No one, if I have anything to say about it, will ask them for their testimony. There will be no pressure to tell a story of a fall from grace and a rescuing hand. They will, if my prayers are answered, be one of the 99 sheep who remained safe in the pen warm from the night and protected from the wolves by their family and the faithful shepherds serving their master. And if they ever feel the need to "pray the sinner's prayer" then I will cry because I failed them as their mother and I have failed the Lord as a shepherd. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-34573146046876083082010-02-13T01:14:00.000-05:002010-02-13T01:14:16.847-05:00A long time comingI haven't had much to say. There was another death in the family. My great-uncle Harry died in early January. In a lot of ways, until I was an adult, Uncle Harry and Auntie Pat were a bigger presence in my life than my Grandmom and Grandpop. I love him, and I miss him. He hadn't been sick long enough for me to feel the dual sensations of loss and relief like I did with Grandmom. I just miss him. I am just sad. Which has made sad for Grandmom take presidence over relief for her.<br />
I am lonely. Not that Grandmom and Uncle Harry were regular companions. There is just something about two people I love not being in the world anymore that makes it a lonelier place to be. When I come home at 1am the house is empty. I sit with Peanut and the house is just empty. Everything is very empty. I do things, I putz and keep busy but it doesn't fill up those spaces. Brian is at work, Dan is either out or asleep before I get there. I wake up in the morning and its still empty. Brian has gone to school. There is nothing to my life. There is no real purpose. The world is just empty right now.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-30188416701945904702009-12-22T07:11:00.000-05:002009-12-22T07:11:20.711-05:00DeathMy grandmother died last night. About 8 hours ago. She would have been 90 years old in June. My dad has been taking care of her for years, it was 8 years ago this month that she and my grandfather moved in with us. It was almost 6 years ago that my grandfather past.<br />
She has been so out of it. There is only one instance in the last 6 months that I can recall her having any real personality or thought of her own. She was in pain last night, she could only get comfortable and stop moaning if she was held up on her side. So Dad sat with her in her bed and held her until she could rest. It was all very poetic and appropriate in a circle of life, I Love you Forever, kinda way. But its strange. I didn't think I would be sad when she died. I had thought about it. I had hoped that all the suffering would end. It had gotten too hard to watch this shell of a person decay in front of me.<br />
So why did my knees wrinkle under me and my eyes well up? Why is it that the only thing I can think is that I bought her hot chocolate mix for Christmas? Why is it that I just can't fathom what else I can possibly do with 12 varieties of hot chocolate mix? She stopped eating a week or two ago. The only thing she would take in was tepid hot chocolate and vanilla ice cream. So I got her hot chocolate mix in brightly colored boxes. Because when there were bright bold colors she smiled and said how pretty it was, even if she had no idea what was. So I bought her Hot chocolate and I put a shiny bow on it and it is under my tree. What do you do with Christmas gifts that are wrapped under the tree for a dead person? Do you give them to someone else? Do you say "Hey I wasn't going to get you this, but I already spent the money and she's dead?" Do you keep it? I mean I can't serve my Grandmom's hot chocolate to other people. I don't drink hot chocolate.<br />
What do I do with the hot chocolate?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-64536508318915600022009-11-26T05:07:00.002-05:002009-11-26T05:42:09.622-05:00Happy ThanksgivingIt doesn't feel like a holiday today. I remember as a kid, as a teenager, even as recently as maybe 18 months ago, my stomach would get little electric butterflies in it. When the sun went down I started to buzz. Not Christmas, I never really liked Christmas, but Thanksgiving made me buzz. I can't put my finger on anything particularly memorable that ever happened on Thanksgiving. In fact, I can remember some awful Thanksgivings that made me want to run away and join the circus. But as irrational, infuriating, or ignorant as any single member of my family can be, I still vibrated with anticipation of a day spent eating and playing games with them. <div>I'm not buzzing. I don't know why. Something killed my electric butterflies.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-12656415228680006332009-09-21T03:30:00.002-04:002009-09-21T04:50:42.070-04:00RambleI apologize if this is meandering. I need to work this out. <div>We are going to lose our house. Our mortgage payment is a fraction of what rent would be, even in places I wouldn't be willing to live. Our property taxes are exactly the same each month as our mortgage payment. They went up over $200 a month this year, they may go up again next year. </div><div>A could very conceivably get a job that would still make the payment, but that doesn't cover what we are behind on. There is government funding to help with that, but they won't give it to us because our W-2s look awful. The only reason we've survived this long, was some help here and there from family, money from Dan whose rent payments are unofficial, and a job I got in December and had until April. None of this shows up on last years W-2 which is how they are judging our worthiness. </div><div>All those "help stop foreclosure" websites and organizations are for people who got <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">mortgages</span> for obscene interest rates from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">predatory</span> lenders. We have a great rate. Our township is a predatory taxer and there is no help. We will never get another mortgage after what the last 2 years have done to our credit. (In an attempt to avoid hyperbole I suppose I should say we won't get a mortgage for 3-7 years.) </div><div>All of that is about money. I don't like money, I don't understand money, and I am bad with money. This is what it come down to. I love my little house. There is work that needs to be done on it, a lot of work, but it is my house. With my purple walls, my green bathroom, and my tiny kitchen. I want to finish the basement as a 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span> bedroom and 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">nd</span> bathroom. I have plans for cabinets over the island with a wrack for stemware. My bedroom is the safest place in the world and no one can hurt me there. I DO NOT WANT TO LEAVE.</div><div>I'm not asking for a mansion. I'm asking for a way to keep my little row home, grumpy neighbor and all. I'm not asking for a hand-out. I am asking for a chance to work. I'm not asking for a 6-figure salary, but a 5-figure one would be nice.</div><div>I want a chance to succeed.</div><div>My dad told me this story about when he was in seminary. He had no shoes, his only pair got a hole in the sole. He couldn't afford a new pair of shoes appropriate for school, and for pulpit-fill. So he prayed for shoes.I'm pretty sure he was expecting a pair that fit at a 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">nd</span> hand store. Instead 3 pairs of new shows, just his size, came into his life from 3 different places. So I've prayed. I've had faith. Every application I've sent in, every interview either of us has had, I get EXCITED. I'm like a kid on Christmas. I figure out how the schedule would work, where the money would go first and how to stretch the pennies for the first 6 months so that we can make up for what we've missed.</div><div>Every application, every interview, goes wrong. And now it's passed, unless I get a miraculous job by mid-October we are done. There is no more deferment, there is no more stalling. I know miracles can happen, and I know miracles do happen, but how long do you hold your breathe for a miracle?</div><div>I don't know where I will be living in 2 months. I am scared out of my mind. Yet again the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">lectionary</span> smacked my knuckles with a ruler. Matthew 6:24-34 "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL'; ">No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; "><b> </b></span></span>Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; "><b> </b></span></span>Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">feedeth</span> them. Are ye not much better than they?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; "><b> </b></span></span>Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; "><b> </b></span></span>And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; "><b> </b></span></span>And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; "><b> </b></span></span>Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; "><b> </b></span></span>Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; "><b> </b></span></span>(For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">knoweth</span> that ye have need of all these things.But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; "><b> </b></span></span>Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"><br /></span></div><div>I believe, I really truly believe, I see the evidence of God's faithfulness in other people's lives every day. I see people who have a path laid out for them and as long as they walk that path everything comes together. But after years and years of looking and trying and failing, I thought, THIS TIME, I was on the right path. I thought that this time this path was right. Brian in seminary, me at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">DCPC</span>, both committing to ministry with zeal and joy. So where do we go from here? Because nobody is calling me back. Because nobody is flying in at this final hour to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">whisk</span> us out of the fire, at least not yet. So just like everything else in my life I am pessimistically idealistic. No matter how many times life proves to me that I will not win. No matter how sure I am I will never win. I'm always holding my breathe as the buzzer sounds. Maybe, just maybe, this time, I will have been wrong and good things will happen.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>P.S. To save you all the trouble: Romans 8:28 "And we know that all things work together for good to those that are called according to his purpose." And to save me the trouble: Trust me, I was an English major, that verse is only comforting if you put the commas in the right places! Are we called according to his purpose, or is the good <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">according</span> to his purpose? And the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever, so if our misery brings glory, then by definition it is good because it has accomplished our chief end. Just because God promises all things to work together for good, it does not mean that this situation will end well, nor does it mean that I won't be accidentally deported to Siberia with a sun-dress and a bible. Maybe I am meant to freeze and be buried in a snow-drift so that some future post-Christian Siberian can find it and rediscover the gospel. You see all things work together for good, but that doesn't mean I'm going to like it, or that I am not going to fail.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"><br /></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-20560467892952026612009-08-28T23:39:00.006-04:002009-08-29T00:59:29.926-04:00Christian Music<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_v6QTCWzj2Og/Spiwcm2dT0I/AAAAAAAAADM/V9zCW_R2ALg/s1600-h/811_13_7672---Church-Pipe-Organ_web.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_v6QTCWzj2Og/Spiwcm2dT0I/AAAAAAAAADM/V9zCW_R2ALg/s400/811_13_7672---Church-Pipe-Organ_web.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375240160778473282" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-family:'Times New Roman';"><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I bind unto myself today<br />The strong Name of the Trinity,<br />By invocation of the same<br />The Three in One and One in Three.</span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I bind this today to me forever<br />By power of faith, Christ’s incarnation;<br />His baptism in Jordan river,<br />His death on Cross for my salvation;<br />His bursting from the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">spicèd</span> tomb,<br />His riding up the heavenly way,<br />His coming at the day of doom<br />I bind unto myself today.</span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I bind unto myself the power<br />Of the great love of cherubim;<br />The sweet ‘Well done’ in judgment hour,<br />The service of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">seraphim</span>,<br />Confessors’ faith, Apostles’ word,<br />The Patriarchs’ prayers, the prophets’ scrolls,<br />All good deeds done unto the Lord<br />And purity of virgin souls.</span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I bind unto myself today<br />The virtues of the star lit heaven,<br />The glorious sun’s life giving ray,<br />The whiteness of the moon at even,<br />The flashing of the lightning free,<br />The whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,<br />The stable earth, the deep salt sea<br />Around the old eternal rocks.</span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I bind unto myself today<br />The power of God to hold and lead,<br />His eye to watch, His might to stay,<br />His ear to hearken to my need.<br />The wisdom of my God to teach,<br />His hand to guide, His shield to ward;<br />The word of God to give me speech,<br />His heavenly host to be my guard.</span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Against the demon snares of sin,<br />The vice that gives temptation force,<br />The natural lusts that war within,<br />The hostile men that mar my course;<br />Or few or many, far or nigh,<br />In every place and in all hours,<br />Against their fierce hostility<br />I bind to me these holy powers.</span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Against all Satan’s spells and wiles,<br />Against false words of heresy,<br />Against the knowledge that defiles,<br />Against the heart’s idolatry,<br />Against the wizard’s evil craft,<br />Against the death wound and the burning,<br />The choking wave, the poisoned shaft,<br />Protect me, Christ, till Thy returning.</span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Christ be with me, Christ within me,<br />Christ behind me, Christ before me,<br />Christ beside me, Christ to win me,<br />Christ to comfort and restore me.<br />Christ beneath me, Christ above me,<br />Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,<br />Christ in hearts of all that love me,<br />Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.</span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I bind unto myself the Name,<br />The strong Name of the Trinity,<br />By invocation of the same,<br />The Three in One and One in Three.<br />By Whom all nature hath creation,<br />Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:<br />Praise to the Lord of my salvation,<br />Salvation is of Christ the Lord. </span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">- St. Patrick's Breastplate</span></span></span></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 15px; font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Over the Mountains and the Seas, </span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 15px; "><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Your river runs with Love for me, </span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">And I will open up my heart </span></b></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">And let the healer set me free. </span></b></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I'm happy to be in the truth </span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">And I will daily life my hands, </span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">For I will always sing of when your love came down. </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I could sing of your love forever (4x) </span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">- I Could Sing of Your Love Forever</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Twelve men went to spy on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Cannan</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Ten were bad and two were good</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">What did they see when they spied on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Cannan</span>?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Ten were bad and two were good</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Some saw giants big and tall</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Some saw grapes in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">clusteres</span> fall</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Some saw God was in it all</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Ten were bad and two were good</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">-Twelve Men Spy on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Cannan</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I find myself a little disappointed in St. Patrick for that hymn, because it is repetitive. I shake my head and say, so that's where they get it. But then I read it again and realize that the repetition has a purpose. That hymn teaches so much. It teaches the basics of the trinity, the creeds, the nature of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">omniscience</span>, and the importance of theological orthodoxy. This is the purpose of hymns. Christian music starts out in the early church as Psalters and other scripture. Like the Hebrew people before them they sang the scripture, which encouraged memorization. We still do this today, especially for children. I can remember so many songs from Sunday School and Summer Camp that told the basic story of Noah, or the 12 spies on <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Canaan</span>. These songs were simple, for children, and they told the story with one or two final lines that told me the significance of that story. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>There were scripture songs, they were just important verses set to music, sometimes, again, with a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">summational</span> line. Then hymns began to evolve in the 7<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">th</span> Century, particularly in Ireland and England, but their purpose remains the same. They teach, now theology and much more complex concepts. In a time when most people were illiterate, the church still knew the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">importance</span> of an intellectual understanding of Christ. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The protestants spread their messages through hymns, Luther especially. The Great Awakening is spread through music, the Wesley's together pen hymns that get the church through a century of changes. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We reach the modern and post modern age and this whole structure seems to disappear in the American church. What do these songs teach? I think the better question might be, how many songs do we need to have to learn that God is love? What about the nature of that love? Well it sets us free, okay, from what? Where is the establishment of the need for that love? </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Now, I have been corrected, there are a handful of modern songs that are hymns, even if I find the settings to be inappropriate for a sanctuary. I wonder what the state of the church will be in 20 or 50 years, when there are few if any hymns that address the theological needs of a church in the post-modern age. Do the teenagers in our churches have any answers when asked about the nature of the trinity? Can the adults in our churches explain the difference between polytheism and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">trinitarian</span> monotheism? Even in an age where almost everyone can read, people need context to read in. How do you tell the difference between your heart's desire and the Spirit's leading if we haven't been taught the nature of the Spirit? Teaching is imperative, and not just pithy one line "truths", but real teaching. The nature of omniscience is not too complex a concept. We have dumbed down everything else about life, why not God?</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>If an illiterate Irish herdsman can memorize and sing St. Patrick's Breastplate, then anyone with a 5<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">th</span> grade education is more than prepared to hear about omniscience from the pulpit. We worship Christ through our understanding of him, not the random repetition of his name thrown into a mixture of love, forever, Abba, and sundry prepositions and adjectives. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">"Let my find you by loving you,</div><div style="text-align: left;">let me love you by finding you." - St. Thomas Aquinas</div></span></span></span></span><p></p></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-22001877849255409692009-08-24T02:57:00.006-04:002009-08-24T04:31:19.645-04:00My Hero<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v6QTCWzj2Og/SpJN8T-HSqI/AAAAAAAAADE/JOVnvFOHFcM/s1600-h/Brian.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373443003954711202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 132px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 199px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v6QTCWzj2Og/SpJN8T-HSqI/AAAAAAAAADE/JOVnvFOHFcM/s400/Brian.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Brian and I had a huge fight this weekend. It went pretty much the same way all of our fights go. To sum up, Brian does something a little dumb, I over-react, he informs me I am over-reacting, I yell and slam doors, he stays fairly calm and un-slams the doors, I get more upset because he is so calm and I can't seem to calm down, he apologizes for whatever he did that I have blown completely out of proportion, and then I apologize for everything else. </div><br /><div>When it was all over and we were sitting on the bed Brian looked at me and said "I'm sorry." Our apologies had all been said, everything had been covered, I really had no idea what he was talking about. "I want you to feel like a treasure." I told him that I knew he loved me, that I knew I was important to him. He corrected me, he didn't want me to feel that he treasured me, but that I was a treasure. He wants me to know that I am of infinite value, not that he values my infinitely. </div><br /><div>Well, I was speechless, and he proceeded to enumerate his failures. That was when I realized that I had failed him even more than he felt he had failed me. He's my hero. He is my knight in shining armor who battles every dragon that ever threatens to devour me. Sometimes his horse isn't properly shooed, or his armor is a little dingy, but he always slays my dragons. Yet, all he sees is the shoes and the dingy, because I see them. </div><br /><div>I remember being a kid and someone always pointed out how I could have done better. I know they thought they were criticizing constructively, but it taught me to say, "Thank you for rescuing me, but if you don't fix that horseshoe you might kill us both next time."</div><br /><div>It's wrong. It is 100% wrong and I am confessing that to him, to you, to God, and anyone else who is listening.</div><br /><div>So today we went to church, and I was grumpy, because I hadn't slept well and my dress was not cooperating and Brian was going to be late when he was reading, and hadn't gotten the passages ahead of time, and it was all my fault. When we get into church it turns out that the reading was Ephesians 5:21-33 (KJV) "Submitting yourselves one to another in the fear of God. Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church: and he is the saviour of the body. Therefore as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in every thing. Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it; That he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word, That he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish. So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself. For no man ever yet hated his own flesh; but nourisheth and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the church: For we are members of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones. For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall be one flesh. This is a great mystery: but I speak concerning Christ and the church. Nevertheless let every one of you in particular so love his wife even as himself; and the wife see that she reverence her husband."</div><br /><div>I just sat there, and I'm pretty sure my mouth was hanging open. Now this is not the first, or even the hundredth, time I've heard that passage; but do you see it? A man is supposed to make his wife a treasure and to be her hero. It's right there!</div><br /><div>So I have a new goal. My goal is to show my husband everyday that he is heroic. I am going to make sure I do the really simple things, like not taking him for granted, saying please and thank you even when I'm in a hurry, and telling him when he's made my life better. </div><br /><div>I wonder what it would do for the divorce rate in this country if we taught this as romance again? Bring on the fairytale princesses! Even if the only dragon my husband slays tomorrow is an empty gas tank, it's something he's done for me and he searches for needs to fill. My job is to let him know how much better my life is because there is gas in my tank and he put it there.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-53836769501812505182009-07-31T01:18:00.002-04:002009-07-31T01:27:01.663-04:00A PrayerHoly Father, use my work to Your glory and always remind me that nothing is done without Your willing it. Reward me with clarity and chasten me with futility. Make my tongue quick, my heart soft, my mind sharp, my knee bent, and my eyes fixed on you. Remind me of the tradition of holiness and not just the history of perversion. Guide my thoughts and actions first by scripture and then by the wisdom of the saints who have gone before me. Lighten my burden, strengthen my faith, cleanse my heart and create a profound sense of gratitude in all I do. Give me a portion of Your love, Your forgiveness, and Your patience for every person You place in my life. Remind me daily that the greatest goal I can strive for is to be reduced myself in order to reflect You to those I meet. Above all, give me the all encompassing peace that comes only from total surrender to You. In Christ I pray, AMENAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-45525428636678933972009-07-25T06:28:00.004-04:002009-07-25T06:48:07.567-04:00The Side Effect of Hope<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v6QTCWzj2Og/SmriFE27vdI/AAAAAAAAACU/jdvPrIMDbdo/s1600-h/photo_7445_20090722.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 112px; height: 160px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v6QTCWzj2Og/SmriFE27vdI/AAAAAAAAACU/jdvPrIMDbdo/s400/photo_7445_20090722.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362346883169369554" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);">Warning: Post contains references to female reproductive cycles.</span><br /></div> I got my period today. Which is 86 days since the last time, which for me, without medication, is a really good sign. I have all my herbs and my thermometer and calendars. I didn't ovulate last cycle, but I hold high hopes for this month, I'm doing low-<span class="misspell" suggestions="crab,cab,Carib,carob,Car">carb</span> and I've been walking.<br /> Last cycle I couldn't help myself and I counted. If I had conceived my due date would have been my birthday. I told myself, I promised myself, that I wouldn't do that again. How long did this resolution last you might ask? 8 hours. I was updating my calendar with information about my parents upcoming trip and I did it, I counted. Average first pregnancy count vs. "due date" count would have me giving birth on Mother's Day. I thought I was going to cry. I had this image in my head of holding a baby in my arms and nursing for the first time as the sun rises on Mother's Day morning.<br /> Brian likes these images. He likes the way that my mind illustrates concepts and they make him smile. He fell in love with me while I described the scene I had in my head of watching my first child take his first steps. But I don't feel these images the same way. They aren't pleasant "maybe one day" things. They are tiny deaths. The baby that might have been born on my birthday was then a child I lost. And if I don't get pregnant this month I will lose that baby that I see in my arms on Mother's Day morning.<br /> Every month, every week, every day I wake up with the image of the way the world should be and I am always disappointed. If I didn't see the world as it should be in such perfect clarity. I could be content. If my hope didn't come in Technicolor. If my dreams weren't like a Choose Your Own Adventure novel that alters itself to guarantee a happy ending. Because life doesn't have happy endings. Life has real endings. Life has bitter endings. Always bitter, if you're lucky bittersweet. If you're blessed bittersweet. If divinity intervenes on the behalf of mortality, then there is something that makes the bitter, not only palatable, but intoxicating and fabulous.<br /> So I don't lose all hope, because hope is faith. To have hope is to believe that there is a higher power. There is no way to conceive of a world where anything good happens without a power that makes that good; because a glance at humanity proves that relationships, disease, incompetence, hatred, and ignorance untempered only kill us if we're lucky, otherwise they simply poison our spirits and make each moment unbearable. I let my hope, my faith, run like a film in my head and then when life disappoints I crash into that poisonous cesspool that is my mind. There are days that I can't get out of bed because the disappointment is so overwhelming. But I did it anyway, and I knew instantly what a mistake it was, and chances are I will do it again and again and again, because faith is hope. I have faith and so I embrace the insanity of hope. Like a fool I keep going back to that kernel of a dream that I can't let go of. I believe that it's coming right around the bend. If I believed it was years away I would know I don't have the stamina. If I believe that it's right around this next bend I can do it. I don't have two more years in me, but I can always handle two more weeks. Even if it's 52 times that I wait for 2 more weeks, it's better than wrapping my self around two more years. So at the end of those two week waits I find myself back in that pool of despair that shackles me to my bed. Then something happens that pulls me forward one more time.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6166699335753743564.post-44006030661873179622009-07-10T01:12:00.004-04:002009-07-10T02:39:54.377-04:00Why My Heart Is Breaking<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v6QTCWzj2Og/SlbP7dXuGVI/AAAAAAAAACE/GERq90Lqiss/s1600-h/hannah.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 339px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v6QTCWzj2Og/SlbP7dXuGVI/AAAAAAAAACE/GERq90Lqiss/s200/hannah.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356697427207133522" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Then said Elkanah her husband to her, Hannah, why weepest thou? and why eatest thou not? and why is thy heart grieved? am not I better to thee than ten sons? So Hannah rose up after they had eaten in Shiloh, and after they had drunk. Now Eli the priest sat upon a seat by a post of the temple of the LORD. And she was in bitterness of soul, and prayed unto the LORD, and wept sore. And she vowed a vow, and said, O LORD of hosts, if thou wilt indeed look on the affliction of thine handmaid, and remember me, and not forget thine handmaid, but wilt give unto thine handmaid a man child, then I will give him unto the LORD all the days of his life, and there shall no razor come upon his head. And it came to pass, as she continued praying before the LORD, that Eli marked her mouth. Now Hannah, she spake in her heart; only her lips moved, but her voice was not heard: therefore Eli thought she had been drunken. And Eli said unto her, How long wilt thou be drunken? put away thy wine from thee. And Hannah answered and said, No, my lord, I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit: I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but have poured out my soul before the LORD. Count not thine handmaid for a daughter of Belial: for out of the abundance of my complaint and grief have I spoken hitherto. Then Eli answered and said, Go in peace: and the God of Israel grant thee thy petition that thou hast asked of him. And she said, Let thine handmaid find grace in thy sight. So the woman went her way, and did eat, and her countenance was no more sad.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> - 1 Samuel 1:8-18<br /></span><p><span style="font-size:85%;">"For Hannah, having a child was the ultimate expression of her relationship with God," according to Holly Pavlov, author of <i>Mirrors of Our Lives- Reflections of Women in Tanach</i>. "It was as a mother, she felt, that she could serve God best. Therefore, her bitterness was a spiritual distress, an expression of spiritual loss. This prayer, then, was not merely about her own needs, but about her ability to serve God." (Found this <a href="http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/Judaism/Hannah.html">here.</a>)</span><br /></p><br />I conceived a child a year ago. The timing is debatable and the midwives and I never bothered to nail down an exact date. Suffice it to say that it was about a year ago. I had a miscarriage, which is also nothing new. I've spent the last year trying to get it together. Trying to fix everything in my life that might have been wrong. There is a long list of things that might cause a loss as early as mine.<br />I cut down my caffeine intake. I don't take NSAIDs. I have been exercising (got out of it the last couple weeks, but anyway.) I have quit smoking. I don't drink often or much. I take vitamins and herbs. I am attempting to eat whole foods. Even my ridiculous dinner tonight had only 1 ingredient that was processed.<br />Yet, everyday coke-heads, 300 pound Jerry Springer guests, and other sundry women get pregnant. I really thought I was okay. I'm studying to be a labor doula. There was this whole part about my own issues and dealing with them. I thought that I had put it all in its proper Westminster Catachism perspective.<br />Then I started getting healthier. I had a period naturally for the first time in over 2 years. This meant things were suppose to be getting on track. I was thrilled to have another one. Unlike other women who are trying to have a baby I look at it as a sign that my body is doing what it is meant to do. But the second one didn't come. And then I threw up. And then the smell of the court room in Media on Monday had my so nauseated I was sweating. And then we took a test and it was negative. I was so sure this time. I've thought I might be pregnant before. But never this sure.<br />Yes, we can adopt. We have always planned to adopt even if we did have biological children. But, it all comes back to giving birth. I want to be a midwife. I want to be a doula. I have a passion for childbirth. My studies convinced me that birth has a distinct spiritual and theological significance. It is the reason I believe what I do about God and what it means to be a woman. Yet right now I feel very sure I am never going to experience it. I believe in predestination. I knew someone once who believed in God and predestination but believed that he wasn't chosen. Thats how I feel. I feel like I know all about this thing and how special and wonderful it can be but I will never have it.<br />So my heart is broken. So I am embarrassed. So I am depressed. So I don't feel a whole lot like celebrating my second wedding anniversary. So I don't feel much like doing much of anything.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13171607879827636442noreply@blogger.com0