Dreaming of Silver Roses

The Stars in Their Courses….
Current mood: sad
Category: Life

         I went out tonight to look at the stars. Someone I love lost someone they love. I went looking for something in the stars. It reminded me of several scenes from several shows and books.

From Joss Whedon’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer “Listening to Fear“, Season 5 87:

Willow: You know what’s weird?
Tara: Japanese commercials are weird.
Willow: Yes. And also, you know some of the stars we’re looking at … don’t even exist any more? In the time that it takes for their light to reach us, they’ve died. Exploded. (Tara turns her head to look at Willow) Poof.
Tara: Were, um … were things rough at the hospital?

Willow frowns and shrugs.

Willow: You know, I used to love to look up at them when I was little. They’re supposed to make you feel all insignificant, but … they made me feel like … like I was in space … part of the stars. (points) There’s … Canis Minor … and … (points) and Cassiopeia.
Tara: (smiles, points) And the big pineapple.
Willow frowns.
Willow: Hmm. You know, I’m not sure I remember that one.
Tara: Oh, it’s, it’s a major one. (points) See those three bright stars right over there?

Willow moves over to put her head on Tara’s shoulder and look along Tara’s pointing arm. Shot of the starry sky with Tara’s finger pointing.
Willow: Yeah.
Tara: And see those stars along there? (Shot of the stars) That’s the bottom of the pineapple.
Willow: It’s big.
Tara: Hence the name. (pause) The real ones never made sense to me, I … sort of have my own.
Willow: Teach me.
Tara: (points) See those stars over there? “Short Man looking uncomfortable.”
They both laugh softly.
Tara: Uh… (points) “Moose getting a sponge bath.” Umm… “little pile o’crackers.” (Willow frowns) Tha-that was a bit of a stretch. (They both laugh) You do it. What would you call … mm, that one? (points)
Willow: Hmm, let’s see.

Shot of the starry sky. One of the stars suddenly enlarges and streaks toward the earth, trailing a golden tail.

Willow: A huge flaming meteor about to crash into something!

-(http://www.buffy-vs-angel.com/buffy_tran_87.shtml)

From Lost in Space the movie from ‘98 when Major West and Judy Robinson are talking after the crash landing on the planet. That night as they talk they make patterns on the condensation on the ships window to map out new star patterns like “Porky the wise and mighty Pig”

Madeleine L’Engle took the approach in her Crosswicks Journals that looking up at the stars made her feel significant and closer to God. She uses it in her novels Meet the Austins  and A Ring of Endless Light and Troubling a Star as a means of discussing death, purpose, loss, eternity. C.S. Lewis uses it in the Perelandra trilogy. Sara Groves uses it in her song, Maybe There’s a Loving God. Truly I can go on and on and on about references in art, literature, and music about the stars. Ask Nancy Regan or 1800’s sea captain how significant the stars in their courses are. Gene Roddenberry and Carl Sagan were star philosophers of sorts. Poets by the scores of thousands rave about them. There are scriptures about them. I could list a few off the top of my head. There are obviously myths by the tons.

     When we were dating a decade ago, Diallo and I would go out and sit on the tailgate of his truck. He’d play the guitar and I would look at the stars… in the sky and in his eyes. That was a decade ago. We don’t even own a truck now.

     So tonight, I took the call. I went for a drive. Tried to pull a Who Wants to Be a Millionaire and phone a friend. No one was home. Drove back home again. And I went listening (read Many Waters, my hero L’Engle) to the stars’ song. They were silent. And I didn’t find the ‘big pineapple’ or ’Porky the Pig’ tonight.

Currently watching : Lost in Space (New Line Platinum Series) Release date: 1998-10-06

I’m Sauree, so Sauree….
Current mood: bummed
Category: Life

-sigh-     I have found a new woe this year to an extreme lack of girlfriend time living in T-town. Well. Deciding to be a grown up and get out there in the work force in a job that is ..okay for me quasi… professional - i.e. Substitute teaching meant that I needed to dress like a grown up more often.

     Why is this a woe you ask. Well, let me explain. Growing up as a child my mom dressed me to suit my dad. I will not elaborate because the scar tissue on my emotional heart is thin there. Needless to say my father’s choice for mybaby layette was Joe ‘Broadway Joe’ Namath and the Jets. He bought me Sugar Ray Leonard boxing gloves for my 7th birthday. Don’t worry Laila Ali I am not. But that explains my childhood fashion faux pas.

     In junior high and high school when it was no long glamourous to play with me like a Barbie my sister took over out of sheer embarassment- my mom couldn’t wrestle me into hair does and don’t or anything that wasn’t denium and cotton with the exception of the period that I was fixated with finding the perfect “Anne of Green Gables” style sun hat. I found one I like and my sister promptly pitched it out the window of the moving car doing about 65mph. My best friend driving the get away vehicle refused to return to find it in the woods on the side of the road. Cest la vie.

     Later when I was dating a pastor’s son, his mom felt it her job to deck me out. I played dress up for that family for a couple of years to suit their tastes. She had fun with me as the daughter at home that she didn’t have when her daughter married and left home. I loved the family. Not the guy. Since we didn’t marry obviously, I lost my fashion consultant there.

     In college, I was surrounded by amazing women and friends with tons so there was always someone near by I could either watch and learn from, or who would fix me if I were broken, or more importantly it wasn’t a huge issue. There were so many things we were interested in from classes to drama to helping people to traveling to growing that it just wasn’t on the forefront of needs. I was very content again in denium and cotton and Nike. Diallo isn’t large into fashion… or people… or a host of other things that would cause the need for me to really dress up. He’s a science guy. We hiked. We talked. He played the guitar. I helped with youth ministry stuff and it wasn’t a huge detail for me to learn about….until Abbey.

     I have mentioned in blogs before that having Abbey made me really aware that I was female. I never thought about gender specifically for any reason before that. People are people to me. I don’t generally wander past laughter, thought, personality, intelligence (that’s important to me), smiles, and do they want to have fun. I may stray over to “do they need help” but that’s about all I notice about people. Now sure there have been moments of “wow, awesome eyes” and I will totally confess that red hair grab my attention post haste. (One of the most fun folks I knew in college was a sanguine shiny theater performing red head and she had my heart on a string for a while. She was a very dear friend and I miss her hanging out. She was a classic drop dead get your attention beautiful person- especially when you got below the surface.)

     I roomed for a single semester with wonderful friend and she had a unique style and pizzazz and joi de vie that I envied. She taught me a lot about just being me and loving people. She still does. I don’t know if she ever really knew how greatly I respected her. She has style and artistry.

    My best friend and room mate for the rest of my college career loved me as I was, but if I needed help she has more style and class and beauty than anyone I know. She is professional, but can chill and be informal. She has so much inner beauty that it eclipsed for me anything else about her.

     So college really didn’t prepare me for professional matching cool dress code of ethics. They liked me so the packaging wasn’t really important enough for me to pursue it on my own and ask questions. I wouldn’t have known what to ask anyway!

     I moved to Terrell and after making a very dear friend there was a mass exodus of people in the last few years and so girlfriends are nill. So here’s the woe. Who do you ask if shoes match your outfit? How do you find out what jewlery to wear with what neckline or even where to shop of some that doesn’t break your banker’s heart?

      And NOW here’s a new dilemma. Diallo and I went Christmas shopping at one of my favorite stores. It is so natural and lots of what they sale reminds me of being out doors so I love the store. The kids love the hermit crabs. I found at Earthbound Trading Company- my favorite store- some incredible sarees that I really like.

I fell in  love with the patterns and you can do a million different things with them apparently (which may mean it becomes a table cloth if I buy it and can’t work it, right!) and there’s no one to shop with and no one to help me figure this out! Shoes???? Since I don’t do sandals are a struggle! What jewlery is cool??? What color is good????-sigh- oh, for the college days again! But they are SO cool!!!!!

Currently reading : A Severed Wasp: A Novel By Madeleine L’Engle

A preview of Christmas-y short story I’m working on…
Current mood: artistic
Category: Writing and Poetry

            “How can you just keep driving!”

Sam was completely up in arms. She and Kris had noticed the man wrapped in an army blanket with scuffed up duffle bags at his feet about the same time. They were on the interstate highway headed to town. His cardboard sign read “Home to Dallas for Christmas”. He was graying and weathered. His eyes were even gray. If Kris had to describe him in one word she would have chosen colorless. He looked tired enough to drop. In fact the cardboard placard was really just propped up against the duffle bags.

            “Samantha. It’s not like I am just blowing past the guy with no thought. We are just coming in from college for the break. All I said was that, I don’t know about you, but I want to live to see my mother for Christmas. Are you planning on bringing that guy home for diner to your mom’s? We are not even headed to Dallas. And I might add that this is the 21^st Century, honey. Have you lost your mind?”

            “Have you lost your heart!” Sam was fired up. Kris knew the ‘pastoral gleam’ in her eyes and the furrowed brow of fury. Samantha was going to launch into a patented Sam Forest special sermon on the sacredness of all humanity at any moment. Kris had personally witnessed Sam’s sacrifice and generosity to more people than she could count. She had numerous times fallen into the category of needing the sermon and now knew the signs for an upcoming tirade. Kris was often worried about how much of a pushover her roommate was. Face to face with even the hint a need for mercy and respect for a human in need and Kris had learned that she was sheer out of luck for stopping Sam. Typically this was one of Kris’ favorite traits Sam had. She saw the person- a sacred individual- in each human being that crossed her path. Kris totally believed that Samantha’s gift of mercy defined her.

In this moment however, Kris also saw that they were two girls with a loaded trunk headed home the holidays totally unprotected and alone. Kris had no kamikaze spiritual or emotional drive whatsoever. Kris absolutely sympathized with her friend. When the car stopped at a red light on the overpass where the man was sitting, shivering she could even deeply sympathize with the stranger. Here was need. Raw. Open wound need. Kris truly felt very deeply for him, but she just didn’t see putting them at risk this close to home.

            “Sam, you know that I love you. I love your big ole southern heart of hospitality and compassion. You’re my best-friend because of that gigantic heart, and while I hate to be the constant drizzle on your parade of saving the world I have to watch out for you. This time for us.  That guy might not…”

            “Might not what, Kristine? Might not be clean? Might not smell nice? Might make us late? Might take advantage of our generosity? Might not legitimately be….”

            “SAFE! God! I know you know me better than that. I’m not prejudice or judgmental. You know me! But think for a second. Sam, and again I say I love you, but you are hopelessly naive if you think everyone on the side of the highway is bubbling over with sincerity or that they might even be harmless! This isn’t Whistle Stop, Idgie! Not all gray haired old toothless men are another Smokey Lonesome! Some are just plain dangerous. Not all of your hobos coming over for money are really even in trouble, in need, or abandoned! What if there’s a gun under that blanket?”

            “But… what if that one is legit! We can’t stop to just check it out? We have the time. No one is expecting us home yet. Kris, I have a good, strong feeling about this. What’s wrong with just asking him a few questions? And hey, you so can not diss my movie like that! I don’t knock your passion for the Dallas Stars when you are so not a tomboy or all your totally geeky Scifi shows!” Kris could breathe again. If Sam could tease, then Sam was hearing her and not unforgivably angry or thinking the worst of her.

            “Look, I’m just saying, let’s be smart about this. If no one is expecting us then it would be all that much easier to disappear and not be missed for a good long time. We have two more years of classes at least!” Kris smirked. She could sense that the argument wasn’t finished. When Sam sunk her teeth into an idea especially a humanitarian effort of some kind she was like an old alligator snapping turtle. She didn’t turn loose unless it thundered. “And hey! In all fairness, I am pretty sure we resolved my geek  status when we talked about how a little Roddenberry philosophy would make the world a better place!” Kris grinned.

            “Oh, yeah, everyone would benefit from Phasers, space monsters, and clingy, skin tight jumpsuits!”

Both girls laughed. The light turned green. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Sam mulling over the next move. Kris drove on past the older man who didn’t even raise his steel gray eyes enough to notice. Cars behind her were going to follow her lead, driving past, leaving the man behind. He was barely an animated cipher- a breathing nonentity. Kris ached that anyone could live through a moment of that much invisibility.

“Okay, Sam. Before you start in on me let me just say that I totally hear what you’re saying; that we should do something. I’m not closed minded to helping. But you have to at least have suggestions we can both live with and live through? I mean, if you have an idea that won’t involve us testing that guy for an assault rifle gunning spree, then I will entertain helping him… somehow.”

“Oh, coolness!” Giddy wouldn’t have come close to describing the exclamation.  “Okay, as I see it there are a few options actually. Pull over here in the parking lot for a sec.”

Kris pulled in at a local vet clinic’s parking lot where Sam had directed. She turned down the singer crooning out the refrain, “…soon it will be Christmas day.” on the radio. She turned in her seat slightly to see Sam better. Sam was beaming. Little girl enthusiasm was all over her.

Kris loved that about her friend as well. Sam was generally bathed in childlike joy with the world. Kris was generally swimming in a heavy dose of reality. Sam was hope personified. Kris was business as usual. To Kris what Sam lacked in common sense could only be made up for in her gift of grace and joi de vive. Kris’ had to think that sheesh, maybe Samantha was the embodiment of Idgie Threadgoode!  Samantha Forest, out to save the world!  Kris grinned in spite of herself picturing Sam in a Farrah Faucet/ Charlie’s Angels flip do and velvety jogging suit from the 70’s.  In her mind she could also picture fliers of her red haired, green eyed friend on every light post. After the 70’s montage of flashbacks she flashed forward past graduation. She could just imagine hosts of parties congratulating Sam for her remarkable work for the under privileged and her multitude of humanitarian efforts. Every day life with Sam was close to life in the Peace Corps! Even at school folks knew where their room was and that Sam was a soft touch for whatever need ailed them from term papers to free rides for groceries. Kris had to protect her as much as possible. Sam saw the inherent value and best in everyone. Sam believed that aches were meant to be tended and healed. Kris knew that life didn’t always work that way.

“Kris? What are you thinking?” Sam’s green eyes locked with Kris’ brown ones. Kris pushed the dark bangs that she had been growing out back with her hand and let out a sigh.

“Sam, did you… have you… ever entertained the idea that some folks don’t want to be saved. Some just don’t. They aren’t there yet.” Sam was silent a moment mulling this news over. Kris let her simmer with the thought a moment. Kris had lived through the thought at a young age. She was all too aware of the dangers of constantly risking your heart and neck to rescue the underdog. It hadn’t saved her family.

“Well…” Sam breathed. “I’m not absolutely clueless. I know that’s true. I’m really sorry that’s true. But I have to ask you, if you live like that how do you determine who genuinely does need help and who is just a player? See, I can’t read hearts. I can only assess need. I’m not the judge and jury just hands and feet.”

“But, Sam, don’t you ever get tired of being stomped on! I mean look at Emma this year? You worked so hard helping her with Chem. She said she needed your help and you helped her every other day and she never said thank you or anything! In fact if I recall you were hurt for weeks when you found out that she had the girls in Tegan Hall laughing at ‘geek jokes’ staring you and some other really mean stuff…”

“But Kris, that’s on her. That is totally on her. It’s on me to see a need and not try to fill it. That is on me. To know there’s a right thing to do, and not do it is a sin said James. What someone does with the compassion and help I offer is their business. It can’t hurt me if I don’t own it. I give help away. What they do with their gift is their business. The joy is in the giving, Ebenezer.” Sam’s sparkling green eyes were lit up from the inside. There was nothing else Kris could do.

” Hey, I’m not a Scrooge, I … I just don’t want to come in one day and see you emotionally mashed up and banged up because you extended beyond your reach.”

“I know that. And I love you for it.” Sam reached out and rubbed Kris’ shoulder. Kris turned and gripped the steering wheel. She was not touchy feely. That was also more Sam’s field of play. She sighed. “Alrighty then, what are our options about your latest Smokey back there?”

“Ok! Here’s what I’m thinking. We can go back and give him a food card from one of the restaurants at the over pass. At least then he could eat something warm and he’d have to spend it right there. We could go by Father Philip’s office and let him know that the guy is there and see what that church could offer. We could go buy a bus ticket and take it to the man so he could take the bus to Dallas. That’s all I came up with before you grilled me. What do you think?” Sam was almost vibrating so Kris assumed she was chomping at the bit. Kris had to confess that the excitement was contagious. Especially this time of year, it was a rush. To be a potential Christmas miracle for someone was a rush.

“Ok. Well, let’s go talk to Father Philip first. His church has the only program I know of in this area for sheltering someone. If the ticket we were to buy says Smokey can only get on the bus tomorrow, it might be wise to have back up. Food wise…. well they will feed him at the shelter as well. Father Philip would have the resources to ask someone male to come along for the protection we wouldn’t have right now to mount a relocation rescue. Hmm. To me…it just seems smart to go first to the church. Will that work for you?” Kris knew Sam was amused by her “scrunched face” as Sam called it when she was seriously deep in thought. Sam was grinning with mischief so that corroborated Kris’ assumption of amusement.

“Oh yeah, totally it works! Let’s do it, Tonto!”

 “Tonto! Are you nuts! I’m driving. This is so Silver. I am the Lone Ranger.”

“Whatever you say, Kimosabe. Let’s mount a rescue. Let’s get Smokey home for holidays!”  

————————————————————-

 ”Do people burden you or just bother you?” - Todd Foster at Pineywoods Encampment ‘94

Currently watching : Fried Green Tomatoes (Widescreen Collector’s Edition) Release date: 1998-12-15

For the Christmas Blues
Current mood: thoughtful
Category: Life

I have a dear friend who called tonight. She came out of a terrible situation in the last few years. I mean rough. There were a few women at the church I attended who banned together with her and walked her through her valley of shadow. She left our town and headed north. It was very brave.

It’s been very difficult for her. She had to rebuild her life and her son’s life (and he’s a special needs kid) from the dirt up. She had some family there to give her a measure of support and assistance, sure, but it was no small feat.

She called to tell me that she has the blues. She’s feeling what I would imagine many singles feel this time of year. I think what many singles forget or may not know is that married people can feel alone in a crowd. Being hooked up doesn’t mean that we feel all Hallmark or Lifetime channel special. That is Harlequin on film often times. A fantasy. It isn’t even my definition of love. Those stories sell because we all want it. We want softly falling snow, a log cabin, a hunky ‘Mr.’ or sexy ‘Mrs.’ who believes we are essential to building their “wonderful life”. If we could crawl into that secret place in other’s hearts around us, I wonder how many cardio muscles are breaking the chests of the owners to get out and find that someone special… even if it’s in the one they married. Those seasons hit everyone. And it is just that a season. Love is a verb; it what you do; it is a choice. It is dynamic and growing every year and each moment you invest. Love is like the life time achievement award of a relationshipship. You grow it. Lonesomeness is a season. It won’t last forever but it can get intense. But it won’t last forever. Real love will because you’ve spent a lifetime growing it.

This time of year expectations run high! We want to believe that mama is baking a turkey and stuffing and just can’t wait for us to drive up with the kiddos so that the “real” Christmas can begin. Kids will be grateful for us finding just the right gift that sets their little sugar plums dancing in their dreams. We want to believe that our partner will look deeply into our eyes and sing along with Mariah, um at least in thought, “All I want for Christmas is YOU!” And we burst into an internal version of a Yule log with our own “Oh,’Santa, Baby’”. We want to hear jingle bells and the Clydesdale hooves as Smitty’s  and Amy’s Christmas CD pours mysteriously out behind us everywhere we go. Shoppers are thoughtful and courteous and no one gets stomped to death. All our tinsel is sparkly and never sticks in the carpet. Our dog doesn’t pee on our poinsettias. Our pastors will preach like they just stepped out of a Laura Ingalls Wilder ‘Little House’ moment. We want to believe that we will get Touched by an Angel instead of  National Lampoon(ed) this Christmas!

Christmas can make you feel so isolated. It’s so easy to lose our temper and shiny halo when we objectify the shoppers around us – you know, “those people”, “those idiots cut me off”, “I can’t believe what they did, “they are so inconsiderate”, “they knew I wanted…”. When we replace names with pronouns and behaviors in place of personhood we can vent and rant and feel awfully superior, mistreated, and justified in how we talk about and too those we objectify. We are suddenly reacting to the behaviour not the person so that makes our reaction fair and justified as we de-humanize so and so. We forget “so and so” is high church Latin for “sacred soul God loves just as much as He loves me”.

The loneliness is more than a symptom of objectifying however. We all want to be loved unconditionally. We all want to be loved all the time. We want to be loved enough to fill that lonely hole in us. Trouble is the baby in manger alone can fill that gap. All the rest of us are human and we can’t give enough. It’s like the old Southern metaphor says, “two ticks and no dawg”. We end up sucking the life out of those we love  and the holidays and end up unhappy when we expect them to love us enough. (I’ve often wondered about myself, whose standard of measurement do I use to determine that “enough”? Whose scale am I placing the love given to me on? Hmm. If they return the favor have I given that “enough” measurement?) They have to help medicate the pain of lonesomeness in us. There is a problem. They can’t. They aren’t perfect. They may very well be absolutely awesome, but they are only human. Some just flat aren’t awesome! They are undoubtedly not near sainthood! They have repeatedly revealed their nature to God and man. So we sarcastically ask: Why should this time be different? Oh, but then we also might be waiting internally for our version of the Christmas Miracle of 34th Street.

I can’t speak for the rest of the world, but in me it’s also often a lack of gratitude in me when I get the blues at Christmas. I am unhappy with all the blessing I’ve been granted because I don’t have what I want. (WHO APRIL? I thank you for your mock surprise…) It’s not ’settling’ to be grateful for the bird in hand even while we strive for the two in the bush. Being grateful and accepting where we are even while we do our best and work toward more is a mark of maturity. When I start thinking about all that I do have and remembering how I got it and from Whose hand (or whose hands) then I can deal with the lonesome factor. After all I think the lonesome streak in us is really a pull to the manger. There is something bigger than us. It just can’t be watched or bought from Hallmark. I have to remind myself when the blues hit that He cared enough to send the very best.  

Currently listening : Christmastime By Michael W. Smith Release date: 1998-10-13

Hmm, What am I thinking….
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Life

I have been spinning Mary Chapin Carpenter’s cd The Calling. (I am also reading a book by Robert Coles, more L’Engle stuff, and Dostoevsky so not all pressure for my ranting here falls on MC2) I really am provoked by her cd. Maybe it’s one of those intersections in your life when you see, hear, connect with an artist’s medium just when you need it. I just know that when it plays something soul deep in my heart is straining beating wildly against my chest so hard that I feel like wrapping something around my rib cage in case this breaks and splinters my sternum on the way out.

I mean songs on the album speak to “your life’s story” and I know even the word ’story’ is like an electrified buzz word in my grey matter. She also uses April charged words like ‘grace’ and ‘calling’. She is an incredible story teller. In her song, Houston, she tells the story of a family caught in the assault of Hurricane Katrina.

I guess words like ‘journey’, ‘home’, and ‘driven’ just make that private place in me that is susceptible to my searching soul  screaming to set out on a quest for participating in something bigger than me stand up in attention. Rick Warren writes in The Purpose Driven Life:

It’s human nature to get distracted by minor issues. We play Trivial Pursuit with our lives. Henry David Thoreau observed that people live lives of “quiet desperation,” but today a better description is aimless distraction. Many people are like gyroscopes spinning around at a frantic pace but never going anywhere.  (P.32)

If you want your life to have impact, focus it! Stop dabbling. Stop trying to do it all. Do less. Prune away even good activities and do only that which matters most. Never confuse activity with productivity. You can be busy without a purpose, but what’s the point?  (P.32-33)

I feel so much of a frantic, fanatical struggle in me to measure up to the expectations of others some days. Then I feel the compulsion of “the call” that Carpenter talks about in her music on this cd tugging at me as well. The two can seem in competition. Warren talks about how God’s will and purpose for our lives is the key to joy in living. I hear that and get it.

The trouble for me most days is that I am waiting for a holy syllabus to be passed down so I can “fulfill my purpose” per divine specs. When “the call” and “purpose” are so general I am left often feeling directionless. I am a rule follower. I am a person who loves “the check list relationship guide”. It looks a little like this:

“April, if you do this and that at this point, then I will be pleased and our relationship is solid and on track.”

 ”April, if you accomplish this then you will have purpose and life will make sense.”

“April, you were meant to do thus and such. Do that and you will be in His will.”

Life doesn’t work that way. No one is going to lay it all out play by play for me.

I do totally believe that there are certain rules and guides that should be followed. There is the golden rule. There is “go make disciples” (Which I believe is different than the traditional evangelical assault tactics of pressuring folks into a carbon copy of their personal versions of Jesus that I grew up with. It stands in contrast I think with introducing them to the person, Jesus Christ . There is often such a lack of love in how we share our story and His story and the intersection of the two  who wants that! There is a difference between introducing people to Jesus and expecting people to look just like me.). There is “a cup of cold water in His name” and “when you did it for the least of these my brothers, you did it unto me”. I get that. There is reading and searching out for yourself what is said rather than just blindly following the moral majority because it’s easier than asking why they believe this, and what was actually meant by what you heard, read, or saw. Don’t get me wrong, I am all about morals and ethics - Judeo Christian morals and ethics, but me the issue is that we’d rather have a falible human person give us a hand written set of those than do the work of reading the Word, asking questions, praying, and researching ourselves. Then we join a band wagon to impose those regurgitated belief on others without checking out the Truth of the matter or loving well. There really is nothing wrong with asking good solid questions.

The calling and life is so much more complex and complicated and challenging than what I grew up believing. It’s true the Word never changes but my view of God does. He gets bigger every year. How to love Him and how to love others gets bigger and more contradictory. People who say they love him make it so hard to love our brother because the argument are the same from those who are and those who aren’t loving Him . “Side with me. If you don’t then one side says you aren’t tolerant or accepting.” The other side says “if you love that person then you are sanctioning behaviors that are wrong.” You can’t just live and love and serve without reservation which is what I think is most Christ like.

He didn’t take on the lifestyle of everyone he met – prostitutes, the militant, the aggressors, the adulteress, the drunk, the thieves, the broken. But he did love and was welcomed by those folks. Jesus was an outcast only among those who thought they had it all together. Those who were “in the right” and confident about their own morality really disliked Him. That often bugs me in light of my own life because I don’t want to make ripples. I don’t want to not blend in everywhere. People talk about Jesus being as L’Engle terms Him, “a universe disturber”, and here I sit out of contact, disconnected, and untouchable because that is safe. Here I sit without getting “too involved” because I don’t want the messiness. I want it peaceful, quiet, and morally clean. The trouble is that doesn’t really sound like Jesus.

   If living God’s will is the way to finding my ultimate purpose then it seems that in my calling – which I think is writing and how I live as I touch people in my sphere of influence- then I am going to make some really “good folks” angry, confused, and disenchanted. I won’t fit in with the “in crowd”. (and that still hurts my heart just like it did in junior high oddly enough) I won’t have an easy life. The modern life philosophy of ‘Don’t I deserve to be happy?’ won’t apply to me. I don’t deserve happiness. I am sometimes blessed with moments of it, but I don’t deserve it. The idol of this age, ‘comfort’ won’t be mine either. Whew. It won’t always feel good to be the me I was created to be.

But I do believe that I will be gifted with some genuine, rich friendships. Jesus was. I believe I will experience real love. Jesus did. I believe I will eventually get past the noise and confusion to peace and joy. Check the garden out. I will leave a legacy if I really care about others with no regard to whether they deserve it or not or look like me or not. It won’t matter if I change their lifestyle because by loving them I will change their world and mine. It might bleed over into helping them do the right thing, but that’s not really the point. Were they loved responsibly and without condition- that is the point. What they do with that love is their business. My business is to lavishly give Love away.

That is purpose. Revealing it in what I am passionate about doing… that is fulfilling my calling.

Currently listening : The Calling By Mary Chapin Carpenter Release date: 2007-03-06

Say what? Advice about what?
Current mood: animated
Category: Life

            A dear friend emailed me today to ask me what council I would give in a class for engaged couples. I had to think for a moment and remember where I was at that time and look from that spot to where I am now – ten years later. I am sighing right now at the weariness of the journey. I am smiling at the memories that we’ve made along the way. I am tearing up at the regrets we’ve acquired. I wouldn’t be a genuine human being if I didn’t admit that there have been both.

My initial reaction to the question was that I am highly under qualified to give any one in that fragile, ecstatic, (though justifiable) often focused on “just the two” phase of life. It is a space that is sacred – for any relationship of any kind from pet to parent from lovers to friends from forever to just the next six months. At the beginning is a sacred space. The realization that you are willing to participate in creating a new connection with another life is a sacred space.

            Isn’t marriage the pinnacle of those connections? Isn’t choosing a life partner the ultimate in big decisions? Is it a big decision – to quote Tina Fey as Senator Palin, “You betcha”. Is it “the” big decision? Well, I think one of the reasons we so often mishandle this decision is the weight we place on it. Little girls play with wedding day Barbie and Sleeping Beauty’s Enchanted castle, little boys play white knights with their princesses to rescue and run like the wind from playing house, movies are made year after year about pairing up and pairing off. It looks like it should be “the” thing. It looks like it should be “the” determining factor in our happy gauge. I think everyone should weigh the seriousness of the decision for themselves. I think too much of an emphasis causes issues beyond imagination and not enough and you get a different assortment of psychoses. So I am not going there.

            I gave my friend a list of topics I thought were relevant to discuss from “marrying someone you are friends with” to “active listening skills” to “how to fight fairly” to “learn how to brainstorm dating ideas at the stage of engaged couple, newly weds, new parents, and older marrieds”, “forgiveness” and a few others.

            What are some words of wisdom I remember when I contemplate where I am now?

·        Elizabeth Elliot once wrote, “You marry a sinner. There is no one else.” That quote had gotten a lot of mileage in my married life. For Diallo and for me. (I would also say that you give birth to sinners.)  If you can accept in the beginning of any new relationship that there are born into it imperfections (and fair or not that’s life) then you don’t expect the impossible and you won’t crater when you can’t give the impossible.

·        Ken Gire writes that every person living and breathing is sacred. Every moment is potentially a sacred moment. If you can accept that then you will life with gratitude toward life all around you. You will see the value inherent in the other in your relationships. Life is no accident. No one can reproduce. There is something amazing in each life you witness. Recognizing life’s sacredness creates a sense of wonder and gratitude that will enrich your relationships.

·        Dr. Paul Brant and Phillip Yancey collaborate in a book about pain. One of the points the book makes is that we desperately want to view pain as an enemy. So we medicate pains. Whether your pill is chocolate, sex, work, medical, co-dependance, food, entertainment, travel, or whatever, when you view pain as an enemy the cure only lasts a little while. Dr. Brandt (who worked with lepers by the way) writes that pain is not the enemy to avoid. It’s life and it happens with no respect to person or prejudice for a person, but it’s more like a teacher or siren. Pain is our body or mind or soul’s way of letting us know that there’s something not jiving here and the problem needs attention. Lepers (like the ones Mother Theresa and Dr. Brant worked with) lose limbs to gangrene and other illnesses because one of the first things leprosy does is attack the nerves in the extremities. A nail or untreated cut can cause major damage that is unnoticed until it’s too late because the victim felt no pain. Relationships suffer also when pain isn’t addressed. What begins with a slow build up eventually becomes a major problem when we don’t view pain for the disturbing gift that it is and talk.

These are just some of the words of wisdom I have collected for the past 10 years about relationships. The last thing, every relationship is tailor made. It isn’t a carbon cut out of a prior relationship. We are individuals and the mix of you plus one or more is going to be unique because of each individual’s life and contributions and points of view and personalities and talents and histories and….get the picture. Each relationship is unique as each person is unique. It’s true that you probably relate best to a certain type of personality in people, but regardless of how similar in beliefs and temperaments people may be they are never interchangeable. Each is unique and has walked their personal journey. As the poet wrote, “Comparisons are odious!” Let the other you are relating too be an individual. Expect them to allow you to be an individual. It’s your job to maintain and grow as an interesting, unique, vibrant person. They can’t grow for you or with you. Love for who a person is and relish who they are becoming. Sometimes the relishing will take work and back up! But the key to any relationship is what you’re willing to put into it regardless of the cost to you or the worthiness or unworthiness of the other.

           Now, I say again, I SO totally do not have all the answers! In fact, I have tons of questions! Diallo and I are walking Rubick’s Cubes of relational conundrums! We keep each other close at hand because we are very interesting! My best-friends will say the same thing.

Currently reading : Saving Your Marriage Before It Starts: Seven Questions to Ask Before and After You Marry By Les and Leslie Parrott

Once upon a time, I found that….
Current mood: blessed
Category: Writing and Poetry

            Once upon a time I met some ladies online. I wasn’t expecting friendships of the nature I am blessed with. It just began as conversations and cool photos. I have come to find that they are generous with friendships.

             It has amazed me how they invite me into their world. They email me specific pictures and tell me about thier lives in relation to them. They chat as often as possible about their world and what’s new as if I were a next door neighbor. They never expect me to do the pursuing first. They just walk into my online living rooms and crash on my online sofas, so to speak. They always ask me about my world. They ask for pictures or look them up here. They ask about my family and really listen. They read my spoutings. They encourage and teach me things. They grow me about what I believe and how I think. They don’t mind if we don’t absolutely agree. They are happy when we do agree. They celebrate the little things.

            They are far more consistent about knocking on my virtual door than most folks are my real one! They are giving and forgiving. They are aware of their need of grace and call me to my own since none of us are perfect! They are childlike and simple in a way that a Hershey’s chocolate bar is simple compared to a New Orleans Beignet. They are less complicated in their approach to friendships, I guess. They don’t expect tons but give in generous portions.

            I appreciate the friendship we share very much. So I was thinking about that and answering an email and this is how the thoughts ended up…

What I love about you gals
Is the way you don’t hold back
You love like breathing
You live like loving
You don’t worry that I would hurt you

What I love about you gals
Is the generous way you share
Life and love and what you have
You give like a river flows to the sea
You give like it was mine for the asking
You let me live in your skin without worry about cost

What I love about you gals
Is the way you don’t stop to think
You can’t imagine I wouldn’t be interested
You live as if the big and the little things matter equally
You think that I would find you absolutely fascinating

That’s part of what I love.

Currently listening : On a Clear Night By Missy Higgins Release date: 2008-02-26

Oh, Great! Expectations…
Current mood: curious
Category: Life

Because you’re not what I would have you be

I blind myself to who, in truth, you are.

Seeking mirage where desert blooms, I mar

Your you. Love, I would like to see

Past all delusion to reality.

Then would I see God’s image in your face

His hand in yours, and in your eyes his grace.

Because I’m not what I would have me to be

I idolize two Ones who are not any place,

Not you, not me, and so they never touch.

Reality would burn. I do not like it much.

And yet in you, in me, I find a trace

Of love which struggles to break through

The hidden lovely truth of me, of you. (L’Engle’s The Irrational Season, pg. 54)

            “We have false expectations of our holy days, of our churches, of each other. We have false expectations of our friends. Jesus did not. He had expectations, but they were not false, and when they were not met, he did not fall apart. He was never taken in by golden calves! Friendship not only takes time, it takes a willingness to drop false expectations, of ourselves, of each other. Friends–or lovers–are not always available to each other. Inner turmoils can cause us to be unhearing when someone needs us, to need to receive understanding when we should be giving understanding.”
(Madeleine L’Engle , Penguins and Golden Calves)

It’s a good thing to have all the props pulled out from under us occasionally. It gives us some sense of what is rock under our feet, and what is sand. (Madeleine L’Engle, Penguins and Golden Calves)

Currently reading : Glimpses of Grace: Daily Thoughts and Reflections By Madeleine L’engle Release date: 1997-12-29