off to school

So my nephews are going off to college this week and next, and I can feel their worries and nerves and excitement through the air all the way from Maine to Massachusetts. I remember how I felt, leaving home to go off to college, the biggest life- change I had experienced up till then. But more than that, I remember walking with young people through this time in their lives as a Youth Minister. The waiting and anxiety of waiting for that envelope to come, tears and disappointment of being rejected or wait-listed by a college, the joy and relief of having been accepted, the fears that their choice of schools would turn out to be a wrong choice... and then, the time coming to actually GO to college.
I don't know how many young people I've seen off to college in my career, but there have been a lot, and one thing that always strikes me is how, like coins dropping only into the slot meant for them, kids end up in the Right Place. So many kids' second choice, "safety" schools, have ended up being just where they should have been all along. If there is ever a time in a young person's life when I've seen the Holy Spirit at work, it's been in choosing colleges. It isn't necessarily an easy transition, or a an instant joy, but somehow it always ends up that kids land where they're meant to.
So I feel confident and excited for the boys even as their confidence may be starting to waver. I know that God has plans for them and knows where they should be. I hope they love college from the moment they step on campus- and I hope they grow closer to God while they're farther away from home.

It's all good.

Is this saying making a comeback?


I went to Staples last week to buy a memory card for my new camera (did I mention how AWESOME my new camera is?), and the young girl who waited on me at the checkout counter bagged the card for me. I said "Oh, I don't need a bag, sorry, I should have said that" and she smiled warmly at me and said "It's all good!"
I have to admit that her response did cheer me, not that I was blue to begin with but her smile and laid back reply made me smile. She was right, it was all good!
Since then I think three people have said the same expression to me. Is it a cool quip these days? If it is, or if it isn't, I guess, either way, it's all... right with me.

itchy itchy itchy, scratch scratch scratch...

I've decided that itching is the worst feeling. I used to think it was having to go to the bathroom desperately but the thing with that is, you can go to the bathroom and alleviate the problem (and feel the BEST feeling in the world... well, it's right up there).
I guess I've done pretty well over the past few years to avoid mosquito bites but this year I'm riddled with them. Add to that other itches of other types, including the nasty itchy eyes that have been plaguing me all day (and making me look weird), and I have been a very uncomfortable girl as of late. (By the way we deduced that the Yoda eyes and the blotchy red face I now have are a result of a sample size of lotion I tried this week.)
You know, the thing about many itches is that you mustn't scratch them, because that just makes them itch more! That is just evil, and proof that the devil exists. I recently decided that instead of a last meal, the night before I die, I will spend it rubbing my eyes because that just feels so good, but if you have to look okay the next day then you can't indulge yourself. You must just let it itch. Agony. I can't imagine how people with psoriasis get out of bed in the morning. God bless Benadryl and all the other itch-fighters out there.

Thank you for my new camera!!

It is AWESOME!!!!!
(click on the image to see the freckles on the whiskers of the bee! It's got THAT much detail!!)

Now We Are Four-ty

Today I woke up looking like Yoda. Is this what it's like to be 40?
My eyes are completely swollen and puffy. And on new license picture day!





Oh well. Other than that, 40's pretty good so far. The party was a sure blast, and I felt so proud and lucky (blessed) to have such an amazing assortment of friends and family. The guests ranged from parents in-laws and siblings and nephews to Youth Ministry friends to some of my oldest (meaning long-time) friends to two of my "kids" (now 21) from my first parish. To me it felt like a great resume, a list of proud achievements to brag about. Look at all these wonderful people in my life! And there are even more than this- not all the people I love could be there.
PJ made us all Margo-ritas, and I heard him and Kristen saying "why haven't we always called them that?" which made me laugh. I gave tours of our sweet home and felt proud, and watched my husband shine and felt proud of that too.
Oh did I mention that at 4:00, the exact start time of the party, a very very dark cloud loomed over us, and fat raindrops fell, and seriously the loudest clap of thunder ever recorded rang out above our house? I was inside giving a tour but my family was out under the metal-frame tent in the driveway, under the giant tree. It didn't look good for us but soon after, it cleared and the guests started to turn up. It reminded me of our very rainy (read: monsoon) wedding day, another day that makes me so happy to remember.
So thank you dear friends for being here, for being there! If my life has been this good for 39 years, I can't wait to see what 40+ brings.

It's my birthday!

Well not really, actually. But today is my birthday party! I am not the kid who had a big birthday event party every year as a kid. Birthdays were family events; dinner, cake, presents. My brother Chris' birthday is 2 days before mine (that is, TODAY). One year my Mom and sister Nancy worked to throw us a big birthday party to which we could invite 2 or 3 friends each. It was a BLAST, with a really cool scavenger hunt that had us running all over our neighborhood from the cemetery to the library to the memorial building. I remember that Chris' team beat ours because we just could not find what turned out to be the largest tombstone in the cemetery... Looked everywhere. Oh well, it was a really fun day.
So today is the big 4-0 party, and Scott's been working his patoot off to clean up the yard. There's a little tent out there and lights and tiki torches and all. I'm really excited (despite the calls for HAIL) because so many of my friends and family members will be here. For a humble/lovable character like myself (and Underdog) it's a weird sensation being the subject of a big party. I keep saying "is it too greedy? will people think I'm a self-centered jerk?" Silly, I know- I never went to someone's birthday party thinking "How DARE THEY???"
So, it's just a matter of getting myself spit-shined, excited (no prob. there) and ready to go. Happy Birthday to me! (and Chris!)

kinda fluey

I bravely dressed and went in to work today briefly, just long enough to get everything set for Baptisms, and then hit the road and ultimately, the couch, again. I am not sick to my stomach, but I don't feel like eating, which is HIGHLY unusual for me. I feel, just... kinda... wonky. Sluggish, tired, energy-free. I looked up Tetanus shot reaction and this, I think, is what they mean when they say "mild flu-like symptoms." I also read that you can expect possible "fussiness" and "Crying nonstop for 3 hours or more." Luckily neither of those have happened... yet.
My shooter (the woman who gave me the shot, that is, who I, weirdly, THANKED afterward) said that if my injection site got hot or red, I should call the on-call, they would probably prescribe me some antibiotics. And, you know, my site is indeed hot and red... but overall I just don't see calling the doc. about it- any doctors or nurses out there reeling in horror at this picture? Do advise.
PS, it looks worse if you sit back from the screen a bit. There, see?

40,000 mile checkup (two new posts)

So, yeah, I'm turning 40. I had my physical yesterday (and got the aforementioned Tetanus shot) and for the first time, brought a list of things I wanted to remember to chat with my doctor about. A LIST!! Yikes. There were only 5-6 things on there, so maybe that's not so bad.
But the good news is, I'm in good shape. Well, no- I'm in terrible shape, but I'm healthy overall.
I was pretty excited because our PCP just retired, and transferred us to another practice in the building, and so my physical was supposed to be with a young pip of a thing who treated me for a breathing thang I had back in the Spring. Her name was Dr. Ally, I kid you not. She was, I think, about 13 years old and had a terrificly chic outfit on the day I met her, accented with a pink stethoscope. I know the maxim is to choose a lawyer who's older than you and a doctor who's younger, but really, this was too much.
Anyway, apparently Dr. Ally has moved on and I got to go back to one of the Nurse Practitioners from my old doc's office, and I was quite glad. She's wonderful and didn't make me feel too old or too fat. Now I've got a bunch of follow-up stuff to do- blood test, a trip to see this kind of doc, a trip to see that kind of doc. The older I get, the more doctors I get to visit. And I'm healthy!

It's time again... simple woman's daybook

FOR TODAY 08/09/08...
Outside My Window... what may be a couple hundred crows are cawing and yelling in the high treetops. Crows give me the creeps, and we try to discourage them in our own yard (by the vicious clapping of our hands... tough, we are) but they live somewhere nearby, and every night around 6 they start flocking back and forth and yelling like middle schoolers at a dance.
I am thinking... about the Olympics. I love the Olympics, and although I am not generally a major sports fan, I drink up every bit of whatever is shown on the Olympics. I love the patriotism and spirit and emotion and the thrill of victory, and yes, the agony of defeat. I lounged in front of the tv all day feeling wonky from a tetanus shot, and saw fencing, volleyball, team handball, beach volleyball, swimming, crew, cycling, and badminton. Badminton! Everything is interesting in the Olympics.
I am thankful for... my health, on this day of minor misery- I had to get the tetanus for grad school, and didn't know it would sideline me for (hopefully only) a day. Fortunately it's a good day to stay inside and... yep, watch the Olympics!
From the kitchen... not much! My energy level is near zero. Sorry husband! Last night we got Chinese food to eat while watching the Opening Ceremonies and talked to a real Chinese guy about China!
I am wearing... yeah, my pajamas.
I am creating... a deep divot in my chair cushion. But last week I did a really cool craft project! I made a nifty suncatcher for our porch. I'll try to get a good pic. of it for you to see.
I am going... back to work tomorrow, with a Baptism at 1:00 (well, three Baptisms). But until then, I'm going nowhere fast!
I am reading... Today wasn't a total waste of time, I caught up on Dot's Diary and then read a lot about Bikini Atoll, the site of A-bomb tests by the US after WWII.
I am hoping... to feel better soon, and that it will be sunny and dry next weekend.
I am hearing... those damned crows and Scott hosing something down in the driveway.
Around the house... the gloaming is setting in. Time to turn on the lights inside.
One of my favorite things... Did I mention I love the Olympics?
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: Ahhhhh this is my last week before vacation, and that means I'll get a ton of work done. Next Saturday we celebrate my big 4-0... so that means we will have a lot to do around the manse, getting everything set to go.
Here is picture thought I am sharing...




Our cat Pip waiting patiently for someone to turn on the faucet so she can take a drink.



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We Are Fam-Ily...

So, tomorrow we head to Bangor for the Family Reunion. This is my mother's side of the family, and it's an event that most of my siblings avoid at all costs (and it does cost). Each year we are urged to visit with this branch of the family tree either at the Lobster Feed (no, we don't feed lobsters, silly- we feed ON them) or the Christmas party, held also in Bangor, on the day after Christmas. I've been avoiding both events for as many years as I can get away with, and this year we have a wedding the day after Christmas (how cool is that??) so we are compelled to make our appearance.
I have a bad attitude about this side of the family, I admit it. But I think I come by it honestly- my tea-totalling family always felt a bit out of place at the Smith parties, and I think that while we thought they were crass drinkers who mocked us for our virtuousness, they probably thought we were snobs. I was born at an awkward gap in the relative span, too young to be noticed by my older cousins and too old to be interested in our younger cousins. At Thanksgiving, I always ended up hanging out in the room where the men hung out, because their conversations were so much more interesting than the women's, and because they acknowledged my existence so much more than the women did.
In recent years, we've all been turned off by the big water fight that ends each lobster feed- and again the snob/aloof thing has loomed between us and the rest of the clan.
But, you know, maybe I've just gotten into the habit of not liking to go to these things. I mean, hey, I drink now too, and maybe that'll make the lobster feed a whole heck of a lot more fun! Maybe they'll be more interested in me now that I've become so impressive, and have a handsome husband to show off. And the rumor is there's no more water fighting- so, I am going to go into this with an open mind. Maybe I'll make a new/old friend- and if not, I'll take my lobster to where the men hang out, and get my credit for showing. Mom will be happy, either way. That's worth a lotta points!

Okay, Me worry. A little.

Oh I remembered a couple more worries, both food related- I worry that I have food in my teeth, and I worry that I have gross eating habits and everyone knows it but me. Did I mention that sometimes I worry that people didn't have a good time at my wedding?

Yeah, but that's pretty much it.

This! Is! Alphabeat!

THIS is the song that got me hooked on the band that I am currently hooked... on. Alphabeat is a great little band from across the pond, for whom English doesn't appear to be their first language, but who keep me singing and dancing through their whole album (except for a couple of slow tracks near the end...)
Here's my challenge to you: watch this video twice and see if you don't start craving that beat! Then, go buy the album! It's darn catchy!

Staycation

I found out recently that there's a word for my favorite kind of vacation: a STAYcation. It means you take time off from work, but stay home. I guess I'm pretty cutting edge because I've been doing this for years. As I've written there's not many places I'd rather be than home. I love to travel but due to my "lifestyle choice" (aka choosing a career in a less than lucrative ministry- CATHOLIC ministry, even)- it seems that most of my travel opportunities revolve around professional conferences. That's not a bad deal, really- conferences have taken me to Denver, Pittsburgh (okay that was the least exciting), Florida and Las Vegas (yes! apparently it's a cheap place to hold conferences...). I'm working on getting our pastor to book us for the LA Congress or the NPCD conference, both in California next spring. Hey, it's for the learnin'!
My husband's away this week at camp with his youth ministry. I'm jealous, because I know this trip will be great (It's with the Catholic Heart Work Camp crew) but also, I'm looking forward to a week-long taste of my single, Margo Tyler Moore days. Whenever Scott goes away, I miss him a lot, but do assert my alone-hood by making a few unauthorized changes. I put all the shades up just a bit higher, leave the lid of the toilet seat up, leave the bed unmade... fun stuff like that. I change the blinds in the bedroom so that I wake up to sunshine, unlike Scott who likes the bedroom to look a bit like the inside of a pocket.
By the end of the week I will not be able to wait to see Scott again. Absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder. Gosh, I miss him already.

No worries!

I mentioned something to my sister that I was worried about (nothing serious) and she asked me, "you worry?" I was kind of surprised by her surprise, actually. Do I strike people as a non-worrier? Oh I'VE got WORRIES! (Nothing serious, though. Well, in fact, let's see...

I worry about Scott dying. Not enough that it keeps me up at night but enough that I worry when he's late or I haven't heard from him in a while.
I worry about oversleeping on important mornings.
I worry when a motorcyclist passes me on the highway and he's only wearing a t-shirt and shorts, that he'll skid and crash and I'll have to witness it.
I worry that I'll need to give CPR someday.
I worry about getting pregnant.
I worry that my friends will ask me to babysit.
I worry, in the winter, about falling down and hitting my head.
I worry about catching the flu from my friends.
I worry that secretly, everyone thinks I'm kind of a jerk!
I worry that my pastor will be transferred.
That's all I can think of. Maybe I am pretty worry-free. Well that's good news!
I'm sure I'll come up with additional worries... I'll let you know.

UPDATED: Oh I remember! I worry whenever I get to a meeting or event, that I'm there on the wrong night, or at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Right! Yes, I worry about that. Okay.

Thinking about this reminded me of a great story that was part of a This American Life episode, about a guy who made a list of his fears, and now it's a published book- you can hear his story here, it's act 2.

Although I am no simple woman...

and you can do it too...

FOR TODAY 07/22/08...
Outside My Window... another rainstorm swings through the yard. No thunder tonight, though. It's the best-sounding rainstorm we've had in a while, and I'm glad for the coolness and water for the garden.
I am thinking... about the stressful day we had- a lot of awful stuff in one day, and I'm glad that a fresh new day looms ahead. In fact, I'm going to go all Sabbath-keepy, and consider it a new day now.
I am thankful for... the relationship I have with my husband, for how strong we can be for each other, and how much we can trust each other when we're not strong.
From the kitchen... oh it looks like I picked the wrong day to start a simple woman's day book... Scott had awful asian noodle microwavy stuff, and I had a bowl of cereal. We were just a bit too spent to cook!
I am wearing... comfy sweatpants and a t-shirt.
I am creating... nothing crafty- but at work I'm putting together a nifty brochure.
I am going... to miss Scotty next week, as he heads off to work-camp. But I'm planning to get a lot achieved while he's gone.
I am reading... OOOh just finished "Bonk" by Mary Roach, it was AWESOME, and hoo-boy did I learn a lot! For instance, did you know that cheddar crumbs placed in front of copulating rats will distract the female, but not the male? Next up, David Sedaris' new book "When You Are Engulfed In Flames"
I am hoping... for a peaceful and overall okay tomorrow.
I am hearing... bits of music from my itunes, as we play with Scott's new iphone, which has an app that can identify songs that it hears. So Jetsons.
Around the house... are sleeping cats and unfinished chores.
One of my favorite things... ways to spend a weekend is doing nothing, and that's our plan for this weekend. Yay!
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: my brother's coming on a layover visit Friday night and that means we can hang out on Saturday morning for a while. His visits are always fun and we're glad when he doesn't have to rush off too early.
Here is picture thought I am sharing...
This picture is on the business card we hand out at conferences and such, it says our names and "Youth Ministers" below the picture.










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Prods Among Us

I didn't blog much about the workshop week we attended a couple of weeks ago- the one on Christian Practices- and what I did say, I know, was a bit jumbled. But one thing about the week that struck me was something that wasn't on the syllabus.
There were a few Protestants among us, in the group of about 50 of us. Two were Lutherans (a religion that I'm intrigued by, I'll admit, after watching a PBS doc. about Martin Luther a couple of years back)- one an interim pastor at an Episcopal parish and the other her faith formation director. Also in attendance was a Presbyterian minister. I learned some interesting things about how their clergy work in their respective religions (including the baffling fact that in the Presb. guy's church there were something like 50 ordained clergy! How does that work?) and that Episcopal and Lutheran churches can share clergy- but not on a permanent basis.
But what really struck me was the effect that having some "Prods" as my uncle Bud used to call them, in amongst our mostly Catholic group. I was interested to see that when the Presb. guy (sorry to keep calling him that) referred to scripture, he seemed to expect us to know exactly what he was referencing- and it wasn't that we were all dolts, staring gape-mouthed at him whenever he mentioned the Bible, but there was a difference there. The impressively educated , professional Catholic faith formation people in the room were well versed in Maria Harris but... I guess the difference was, our knowledge was purely Catholic.
I mentioned already here the difference in perception between us- about how when the PGuy (better?) mentioned being "outside your faith tradition" the Catholics among us assumed he meant "Protestant"- not, say, Muslim or Buddhist, etc... I thought that the Protestants seemed to know more about Catholic teaching and tradition than we did about theirs- and it was interested when they would ask questions like "what do you mean when you say a 'reconciliation service'? Everyone goes at once? But they have to do individual confession? Huh, that's interesting..."
On the last day of the workshop we were talking about involving parish groups in each other's activities- like involving the whole parish when the Youth Ministry has a Fast-a-thon or what have you. The PGuy told a story about a church where they commissioned their youth during a church service- the group was making pb&j sandwiches for the homeless. The PGuy beamed as he told about the kids actually making their sandwiches ON THE ALTAR during the service. I had to laugh (I laugh too much) at the polite reactions in the room among the Catholics- everyone smiled and nodded at the PGuy but the tension in the room was palpable. ON THE ALTAR???? It was funny. Our leader, when we had all swiveled around to face him again, was grinning. He said "sometimes... it's great to be Presbyterian!"

Home Sweet Home

Just now Scott called me outside to watch the lightning that was striking over the airport that we can see from our yard. It was very cool out there- there were strikes every few minutes, but no thunder- and the wind was tossing the tops of the large trees in our neighborhood, making them wave in slow motion. The wind was a warm, delicious wind that I love to be in. But here's the thing- my first thought was "ooh I should go check my email to see if there's an accu-weather alert!"
When did my first reaction to nature become the urge to go google what I am seeing?
I do love my computer and using the web. I don't know how I ever watched a movie without scanning imdb.com- and I love the instant answers I get to all my questions. I have an old paperback dictionary with a list on the back that I started in high school, I called it "WTLU" which stood for "words to look up" because they were not in the dictionary. Now, I look up words all the time, among other important facts and figures that it is vital for me to know.
And as much as I love being outside, my happy place is indeed in my home. I love this apartment- the bedroom is cozy and romantic, the kitchen is cute and homey, the bathroom is fresh and crisp-looking and the living room is my happiest place of all. My chair suits me perfectly, I love watching tv and surfing the web, and it's just a pretty cool room overall. The loveseat across the room from my chair is so comfortable for napping that I sometimes slip out there at night if I can't get settled in bed.
I love home, not just since we've lived here but wherever home is/has been. I have a near-physical need to GO HOME after being away for a certain amount of time, and when I'm feeling ugly or sad or lost, it's at home that I need to be.
I'd like to believe that I could travel the lands like a hippie or an adventurer, but the truth is, home is my favorite place to be.

get a saddle

In recent days, I had a conversation with a beloved young lady who complained to me that everyone she knew was "jumping down her throat." I wanted her to know that criticism is important to hear, and although that can be painful, there's something vital to be learned from every jumper.
As I told her this, I heard the words echo in the back of my head from my days working in a treatment/school facility- they were printed on a paper hung on the bulletin board in the staff office:

If one person calls you a horse— laugh at him. If a second person calls you a horse— think about it. If a third person calls you a horse— get a saddle.

I remember being where she is now- In college I was told that I could never fully understand myself because there are elements to me that only the outside person can see- like having a "kick me" sign on my back. That insight was a stunner, because up to then, I felt that I knew myself completely, and that anyone who disagreed with me just didn't understand. But I had to accept, at least eventually, that it's true- I have a limited ability to know myself from in here behind my face, and so it's important to hear what others say about me, good and bad- so I can get an ever better understanding of who God made me to be, and how I'm doing at the job of being me.
One day at a shopping center parking lot a friend drove up to me and said she had spotted me driving in, and knew it was me, because she could see I was whistling and I am always whistling. I was shocked! I always whistled? I had no idea that I whistled often enough that it would be an identifying trait. Once she pointed it out to me, I found out she was right-I do whistle a lot.
A young man in the school I mentioned above wrote me a note when he graduated. He said "I hope you always laugh too much." That one really made me think- do I laugh too much? Do I laugh more than other people? He was right too- I do laugh a lot, and I catch myself laughing at things that no one around me is laughing at. I'm not sure what that says about me, but I feel like Alex, the note-writer, was appreciating this odd trait of mine, and I guess I appreciate it too. I'd rather laugh too much than cry too much.
I'm not good at taking criticism... I've been told that... but after my initial reaction I do mull over what I hear, and the criticism and feedback I've gotten from people in my life have helped me become the kind of person I want to be- on my journey toward becoming the kind of person God wants me to be.

Stuff to think about (two new posts)

Here are the great quotes and concepts from day one:

• Christianity must be presented as a Way Of Life, rather than a system of belief.
• Christianity must counteract the Smorgasbord lifestyle that modern families face, instead of being one of the dishes on the buffet.
• REAL SIMPLE is the best selling magazine in the country right now. Why? People are hungering for a way of life.
• Ideas can be “inert”- like inert gases, they just sit there, never mix with any others, never do anything.
• The old model of Faith Formation can be described as a Banking Model. This model deposits information into the person’s head, and hopes for good dividends down the road.
• We have a presenter who is Presbyterian- today he was talking about the practice of Hospitality, and asked us to share a story of when we experienced hospt. when visiting a faith outside of our tradition. Immediately all us Catholics thought of the friendly receptions we’ve gotten from Protestant Churches- huh. Only the Lutheran among seemed to know that he meant OUTSIDE our tradition- as in, not Christian. It struck me how separate we are from our peers in the Christian community.
• “She believes that by teaching her children to sleep (well), she is teaching them to die (well).”
• One thing families say they won’t do at home is study the faith.
• Young people want to be marked deeply by their experiences. This is why we see so much tattooing, piercing, etc… How do we help young people gett hat experience from faith formation/faith? The speaker gave the example that everyone gets injured on a (good) mission trip- bearing great "battle scars" of their time in service. Just a thought...

More tomorrow. They are long, marathon days (tomorrow's 9am-9pm) packed with mind-bending stuff. I'll keep you posted.

Christian Practices

So, every year I try to get to one of John Roberto’s institutes- last year I blogged a lot about it, you can read back about it here- and this year I’m in Connecticut with a bunch of great people for the Summer Seminar on Faith Formation in Christian Practices.
John is an inspiring teacher, full of great information and ideas- he is a walking best-practices resource. I love these weeks because they fairly make my head explode with ideas and inspiration and a fire under my butt. I get this feeling of energy and urgency at these weeks that drives me for the rest of the year.
So… Christian Practices concern the things that people DO as Christians. John, and the Valparaiso Project (more about them later) define Christian Practice in much the same way as a doctor has a practice, or a lawyer has a practice. Christians, they say, have a practice too.Here’s the definition Dorothy Bass gives (of the VP):

Christian practices are shared patterns of activity in and through which life together takes shape over time in response to and in the light of God as known in Jesus Christ. Woven together, they form a way of life.

Got that? Okay, here are some of the practices we are talking about this week:
Honoring the Body
Hospitality
Household Economics
Saying Yes and Saying No
Keeping Sabbath
Testimony
Discernment
Shaping Communities
Forgiveness
Healing
Dying Well
Singing Our Lives
There are more, but these are the original ones identified by the VP.

Today we talked a lot about how we (and the people in our parishes) already do so many of these practices without necessarily identifying that they are- and, that when given a chance to share their stories, they will (like we are) learn to see their daily practices as connections to their faith.

It’s kinda hard to describe. Check out the website at www.practicingourfaith.org and the teen version at www.waytolive.org
because I’m sure they explain it there better than I do, so far. But after tomorrow…

who's your unibrow baby?

I used to believe that everyone needed someone to... well, kinda... hate. I thought, hey, every story needs a villain, right? Maybe if we all channelled all our hatred onto one person, we wouldn't hate so many other people.
Sometimes I still catch myself falling into that, letting something create a grudge in me and I do have a hard time letting those somethings go, sometimes.
But lately I have been hearing things about forgiveness, and letting go. I read today about a man who decided not to hate. He said (and I am summing here-) that one day he just said "enough." Now, when he feels anger, he reminds himself by saying "enough." Sounds easy...
Yesterday I heard the story of the girl from that famous photo from Vietnam, and how she learned to forgive. It was certainly convicting- go read it or listen to it here, and pay close attention to the last line. It's a hum-dinger!

Expecting

I imagine that turning the Big 4-0 is a different experience for people who have kids. I can only guess that when you have kids, you must measure your life against theirs, to some extent- and that turning 40 with kids who are 5 years old must mean something different than turning 40 when your kids are 20 years old. Know what I mean? My mother had 5 kids when she was my age- FIVE! The thought of one kid overwhelms me.
But not having kids means all I really have to measure my life against is myself, my own dreams for where I would be at this point in my life.
When I got my first Youth Ministry job, I had no way of knowing that I would end up with a heart for faith formation- NEVER dreamed I'd be going to grad school for religious education- I hadn't any idea how much I would suffer in my vocation, never thought my faith would be shaken like it has been, and never in a million years would have envisioned the job I'm in right now, NOT in youth ministry and loving it like I do.
When I told my spir. director how excited I am in my life right now, with so much great stuff on the horizon, so many opportunities for growth coming toward me, she asked how it felt to be in the "not there yet" phase. I said "it feels like pregnancy- like women must feel when they're in happy pregnancies- happy and hopeful and dreamy, excited for the future. It feels like the kind of pregnancy I want!" She said "woah- Margo!" and she was right. Woah. I am feeling all the hope and courage and excitement that I didn't feel when I was pregnant with a baby.
So here I am, almost 40 (about a month and a half to go!) and Expecting.... great things.

Jiggety-jig

We're back! We were in Pittsfield, MA, and the Berkshires on our yearly pilgrimage to the place where we got engaged (8 years ago), to Tanglewood and the live broadcast of A Prairie Home Companion, to Bonnie Brae campground, where the neighbors are louder than the campers.
On our way out there, winding along route 9, we kept rattling off what we were about to see, stopping at places that we've stopped every time, and I said to Scott, "in 10 years we will just have the exact same conversation from door to campsite every year." But each year new memories are built, and different friends and family come out with us, and it's a little different. This year was marked by some rain, especially on the lawn before the PHC show started. Garrison Keillor walked out on the lawn in the pre-show moments, singing to us and stealing muffins from people's picnics.
After the show at Tanglewood every year, when the broadcast has signed off and no one is listening on the radio, Garrison comes back on stage and leads us in a sing along. We usually do some fun patriotic old songs that everyone knows, since it's usually around the 4th of July. This time though, he came back on with all his musical guests and performed for a full HOUR. A whole hour of extra fun with the cast and the hearty few hundred who stuck around, crowded under the shed, in the sauna-heat, swaying and singing at the top of our lungs. SO cool.
Now we're home and it's too rainy out to unload the car, so we're lounging a bit. It's vacation week here so we're looking forward to a lot of lounging like this.
We have a good, good life.

talky talky talky

I don't have a voice for yelling. I was a cheerleader in high school, but somehow, I lost that big voice I had on the basketball court sidelines. I wonder if I ever was that loud...?
Anyway, I'm no shrinking violet now but my voice does not carry. In Youth Ministry, I was never one to yell "QUIIIIETTTT!!!" and if I ever did need to get a group's attention, I'd usually turn to someone nearby and say "can you yell for me?"
Often, in groups, I will say something and realize that no one has heard what I said, or is even aware that I'm talking. I've been in groups where I've repeated myself several times and no one even notices me. Usually when that happens, I just give up the effort and move on. If I ever have anything really important for the group to know, I get myself heard- often what ends up lost is some funny quip or story that no one really needed to hear, anyway.
The older I get, the less I like talking- I love long silent days where I don't talk to anyone much at all, I hate talking on the phone. I like listening to people talk though- I listen to podcasts on my ipod, not music, and I listen to public radio all day at work. I like that listening to the radio means not having to hold up my side of the conversation. I'm an information junkie- I love to hear and learn and know things.
But while I'm not so much talky, boy-oh-boy I love to write. Sometimes I feel like I'll pop if I don't grab a pen and start writing. I'm so glad to be alive at a time when I can email instead of phone, text instead of call on the cell. I'm ever so glad I learned to type when I was in high school.
Just because my voice doesn't carry far, doesn't mean I don't have a lot to say.

Sum-Sum-Summertime!!!

Wow, how did we get to the end of June so fast?? I can't believe it's almost time for our annual camping trip and the 4th of July. For me the trip to Western Mass, while in no way "roughing it" is such a fun kickoff to the Summer months, my favorite time of year. We got engaged, don't you know, at Tanglewood during the broadcast of A Prairie Home Companion, and now go back every year to that sacred place.
Then, after that, comes a Summer tailor-made for me. I'm an Olympic junkie, and love-ove-ove the Tour De France. And did I mention I'll be turning 40 this year, complete with a big old love fest party in my honor, in August?
Then Fall brings grad school and another great year at my parish. I feel a little bit like a spoiled child. It's nice work, if you can get it!

1 Cor. 13:9-12

When I was little I thought countries declared war- now I know that's not true. Now I know that leaders of countries declare war, and people do the dirty work for them.I hear about the hatred of America and think "but... I wasn't FOR this war! I don't WANT to be at war! Don't hate me!"
I also thought that adults didn't lie, or pick their noses- turns out I was wrong about those too. (Let's face it, fingers can do what kleenex can't!)
I thought that song "Paradise By the Dashboard Lights" was about baseball- and I thought, in a baseball game, that a "Walk" meant that the batter hit the ball so far out of the park that he could walk around the bases without worrying about getting tagged out.
I thought that plain, ground, crumbled hamburger was yummy.
I thought thirty was Totally Grown-Up.
I've learned a lot since then- I was way off on a lot of the things I believed as a kid! But, in retrospect, I'm glad that I had those kid-beliefs before learning the Truth. The things that I thought then were a nice, cozy foundation for the truth I was to take in later on in life.
I've been thinking about my image of God, in light of the CS Lewis book I read- he said that your image of God needs to be smashed over and over, so it can grow. He said that if you forever settle on a high-school or childhood image of God, He won't be big enough to handle your grown-up problems- meaning you'll not be able to trust Him because you've limited the size He can be in your world.
When I was little, God looked and felt a lot like a Grandfather. In high school I fell head over heels in love with God- He was a lover (not in the dirty way!), a partner, a friend, a sympathetic confidante. When my faith in the Church was at crisis point, He was like Puppy, my old stuffed dog that I slept with for far too many years as a kid- comforting, stable, grounding. Now He is like a wise professor. For a long time I yearned for the God I envisioned in high school, but now I know I was looking at God the wrong way- in a way that He and I had outgrown.
But I'm glad I had those kid-beliefs before learning the ever-evolving Truth of who God is. My relationship with God, like so many of my most important relationships, is cumulative. One new image doesn't exactly wipe out the last. God didn't totally stop being Grandpa, or Puppy, or my sympathetic friend.
I kind of can't wait to see Who He will be next.

Not Happening

Last night we spent our last $20.00 until payday on two tickets to see "The Happening." I don't want to ruin this movie for you by mentioning specifics, but then again, I DO want to discourage you from seeing it. It's awful. I'll just point out one biggie, and let you decide for yourself:
The premise of the movie is that there's something in the air that's making people go crazy an do bad things to themselves. No one knows where it's coming from, but they soon pinpoint the wind as a bringer of the badness. So here's the thing: in the entire 91 minutes, not one person covers their mouth and nose. Not ONE!
Really, that's all I'll say- but isn't that enough, really? If you're really determined to spend your ten dollars, send it to me in thanks for saving you from this movie-going experience. Feel free to add another $8 for a soda.

early love affairs

When I was in high school, I fell in love (didn't we all?). I loved a boy named Dan who was troubled but not getting into trouble. He was a brooding, funny, sweet, moody, deep and fun musician of a kid, and I sure learned a lot through that relationship.
Because I loved him, I wanted to learn about the things he knew about. I wanted to be part of the other things in his life that he loved- not out of jealousy, but out of a desire to share in his happiness, to learn more about why he was the Dan he was.
He loved music, was a bass guitar player, and especially loved the band AC/DC. We listened to their tapes (no CD's yet) in his car on the way to school in the morning, and at his house we watched videos of their concerts. I remember long hours sitting on the edge of his bed watching him learn to play along with their songs. Soon, I started to like AC/DC too- I even bought a tape, and listened to it on my own. Through our relationship I also discovered Stevie Ray Vaughan and lots of great classic blues stuff that I still really like today (for the record, I was always a classic rock kind of girl, which may be one reason Dan thought I was okay).
Also in high school, I went on the Search retreat that was so popular in Maine, and the same thing happened- I fell in love. It really felt the same as loving a boy- I wanted to know more, I craved that warm feeling I had felt when I grew so close to God on Search. I wanted my friends to know about him too. And I wanted to know more about the things that God cared about- out of a desire to know more about why He is the God He is.
Turns out the things that both of these early loves exposed me to, became things I love too. I am glad to have loved Dan, and I am glad to Love God and be loved back by Him.

the club lives!

I just wrote and deleted a snippier version of this entry, and now I'm feeling much more mature and ready to express myself appropriately.
I'm sure disappointed in the appointment of the new co-director at the Youth Min/Young Adult office... it's not surprising that they would create and fill a spot like that with someone who appears to have made a career of being in the Old Boy's Club at the Archdiocese, but I was really hoping things were changing.
And I guess that's all I'm going to say.

Wowser

I went to my Spiritual Director today and yet again God blew my mind. I knew it was going to be a good day, despite the gloomy weather, and couldn't wait to get to the parish where my SD works to tell her all about the exciting stuff going on in my faith life.I was talking along, completely missing the wowser-meaning in my own words, and she stopped me and said "Wow!" She essentially slowed me down enough to get me to look at the amazing way God is working in my life. She was right- Wow. I left her office exhilarated, blown away, peaceful, relieved, fascinated. It was an emotional realization that she guided me to and through- we spent a lot of the rest of my appointment time just looking at each other with our mouths wide open. Now I feel exhausted. I'm looking forward to parsing this all with God and seeing where He will lead me next.

Happy Anniversary, our-style

Tonight, for our 7th wedding anniversary, we went out for a romantic dinner, and then walked on the beach, kissed by the shore, and took the long way home.









Well, our version of this romantic story is this: we went to Skip's in Merrimac, an old-fashioned burger joint that sells its burgers flat and greasy and with a heaping side of curly fries. It's become a tradition for us, since one aimless anniversary when we were broke (as usual and as we are this year) and didn't plan ahead... our road trip took us to this happy place and we've gone back every year since then. It's not fancy and it suits us perfectly.

After that we went to Plum Island to walk the beach and look at the sunset. We got there just in time to see the pretty colors but the tide was high and the sand was damp- and cold. So, we did some requisite beach kissing and headed for home, stopping for snacks on our way.
Now we're back in our favorite spots in the living room, in our jammies and cozied up for the night.
Thing is, all our days and nights are pretty great, so there's no need to go all out on the anniversary- it's great to remember where we were 7 years ago today, but it's even better being here now.

Two new thoughts about God

I was noticing the face I make when I see a baby- when I catch their eyes, I make a big happy surprised kind of face like "Wow!!! You are wonderful!! HIIIIIII!!!!!" I've seen a lot of people make that face. There's something about a baby that makes people feel so happy to see them.
I think that the faces we make with babies are a reflection of the way God feels when He sees us in prayer.

Tonight at Mass a little tot was sitting in his stroller diagonally across the aisle ahead of me, and I caught his eye and smiled at him. Soon he was smiling back, then he started to laugh. Then I started to laugh, and everyone around me smiled, and he smiled and laughed more. It was so fun, hearing his little belly laugh echoing through the big church. Everyone around him, we couldn't stop smiling along with him. And I thought to myself, I bet this is how God feels too- I bet He loves it when we smile, and smiles along with us. And in the same way, (I can't help myself- when people cry, I cry...) I believe he cries when we cry too.
I think Jesus gave us the answers to so many questions when he told us to think of God as "Abba", Father- even if our own earthly father's weren't great, we all can identify with the concept of what a perfect father should be. And I'm learning more and more about being a child of God, loved like a father loves His baby. It's a good feeling.

Believe the Good News

Scott tells me things I want to believe about myself. He says I'm beautiful, pretty, cute- smart, funny, beloved. He tells me I am great. I do want to believe him, I look in the mirror and search for the good news he tells me about. I want to believe it's all true, that he's saying the truth about myself to me, but somewhere in me a voice says "he's just being nice, he's just saying that so you'll feel good. It's too good to be true."
But you know, why not believe him? I have no reason not to. Why not take the good news and go with it?
I wonder if God feels this frustration with us. He has nothing but Good News for us- we are good, we are redeemed, we are loved. We are beautiful, made in His image. But other voices say "it can't be true, because you're not perfect. It's too good to be true."
But, you know, any evidence that the voice is right, comes only from worldly sources- not from God. Why do we choose to listen to it, over and over? It's a puzzler.
I'm going to start by believing Scott when he says great things about me. Why would he lie? He's got impeccable taste...

can't help myself

I have no good reason to post this video except that I was fascinated by it. See if you can tear yourself away from it! And the girl looks familiar to me, too- anyone know who she is?

did you notice?

Did you notice the "asking the question" entry down a few? I posted it after posting the last one (about the box cover) so it didn't show up on the top of the list. But hey, check it out anyway, wouldya?

who's got the box?

I went to a regional meeting of Religious Ed professionals today to catch up on all the latest hubbub with the Archdiocese. This is a tough diocese in which to work- it's very hard to feel safe and secure, whether you work for a parish, or at the diocesan level. Recently the RCAB has offered packages to employees who have been there for many years- and it has caused some real discomfort among, specifically, the religious education community.
I think it's pretty much agreed across the board that the paradigm for religious education that we have been using for too long... is not the best way to help young people be formed in their faith. Changes do need to happen. But as we "in the field" watch the movements and decisions of the hierarchy, it does make us all wonder- what is the face of faith formation in this Archdiocese to be?
Because decisions and changes are being made without the contribution or consultation of anyone in the field (at least, not that I've heard of so far) it creates an environment of fear. Who is making the decisions that will change our jobs? I just hope that somewhere, somehow, there is an actual, overarching, long-range, forward-thinking GOAL. A very wise man I know said it best- he said that it seems like they are trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle, but they don't have the picture on the box to go by. It's a hard way to put things together, and I hope it'll work better than I suspect it will.

asking the question

So, last time I went to Spiritual Direction, I told Mary (not the BVM; my Spiritual director's name is Mary) that I was frustrated by the whole "why does God let bad things happen to people?" issue. I told her that I knew I'd never understand it, and that it wasn't really mine to understand. She said "well, it sounds like you've already decided the answers without ever even asking God the questions." (How about that!)
So, I decided to ask (of course still not really believing I'd get an answer) and see what God would tell me. Mary gave me a printed Catholic Update about suffering. It was interesting- it talked about letting go of ideas that God was trying to punish us, or trying to teach us... but, you know, although it made some good points, it still fell short of answering my question.
Coincidentally, the chapter I turned to this week in my book (Is Your Lord Large Enough) was about suffering. It seems CS Lewis wrote about The Problem of Pain early in his career, and then wrote, journal-style, A Grief Observed much later, upon the death of his wife. The first was theoretical, the second was experiential- so you can imagine the differences.
Anyway- the author of IYLLE makes some great points, the best of which, I thought, were these:
"Pain would be no problem unless, side by side with our daily experience of this painful world, we had received what we think a good assurance that ultimate reality is righteous and loving." The fact that we struggle with pain is a sign of our faith in the Goodness of God! If we didn't have a belief that God is good, we'd expect pain, and not need to look for the meaning of it. Huh.
"'Love is a steady wish for the loved person's ultimate good as far as it can be obtained.' This is not a wish for the loved person's happiness, but for his or her good, even if suffering or unhappiness is necessary to attain that good." Here's that parent image again- a good parent understands this, I bet.
"God may (even, I think, does) share and feel the pain when human beings suffer, but cannot eliminate the pain without changing the nature of the universe and eliminating human freedom." I've heard this argument before, but it never really worked for me- I couldn't see why freedom would be preferable to God than making our lives happy and safe and good. Why bother with pain when He could change things? I get that good comes out of pain in many ways, but why go to the trouble? But then I read this:
Our vision is limited. God's knowledge of what ultimate good consists of, for individuals and for all humankind, goes far beyond what we can possibly comprehend. We do not have enough informaiton to build a case that God could or should have saved an individual or a community from a pain or grief. In the end, we must trust in what we know about the character of God, though in the midst of suffering or grief, such trust may be difficult." Of course!
This answer satisfies me more here than it has before. I've been told "all you can do is trust that God has a plan" a million times- and it always made me a bit mad. But the difference is, I was looking at it though my own lenses again- my own judgment of what GOOD is and what BAD is. God, of course, sees through different eyes. I can trust that God knows better than I do about what is good, and that makes all the difference to me. And just as it always seems to be, the reason I'm not getting the answers I expect from God is that I don't even know how to ask the question.

the gifted are called- the called are gifted

It has been a wild coupla weeks. At work, things have not slowed down since Easter- somehow, despite the fact that I still can't explain to anyone what my job description is, there are just more and more things to do.
Scott and I met with a deacon in Martha's Vineyard this week to learn about the Called & Gifted process. C&G is a process developed by the Siena Institute to help people discern their spiritual gifts. Spiritual gifts, they say, are God-given, and meant to be shared/used in the world to bring about the Kingdom. So, there may be lots of other gifts you have, talents, secular gifts- but there is a difference.
We were met by the Deacon at the boat, and he took us to his inn to do the process. The way it works is, we took an inventory to see where our highest scores ended up- which gifts came up at the top of the list. But the most important part was that after the inventory came an interview. We looked at the gifts individually, heard a definition of that gift, and then looked at our own experiences to try end discern if that gift was something God had given us... or, maybe not.
The interviews were fascinating, and we both got a lot out of them. One thing that has stuck with me from the process was that he said "a gift is ours to give away... that means that if we don't use the gifts God has given us, then we leave someone in need." That puts a different spin on it. It means that the gifts aren't given TO us, they're given THROUGH us. How about that!
I'm hoping this process is one that we can bring to our parish- as we were being interviewed we kept throwing out names to each other of parishioners who we know would be great to interview. It's the difference between looking for people to fill volunteer positions, and helping people discern their gifts to see where God wants them to make a difference in the world. Like everything in parish work, it seems that the harder way is so often so much better.

EO

This week really has been a roller coaster of emotion for me. I met with my spiritual director this morning and she verified for me that my feelings of exhaustion are well-earned. There really has been as much joy as sadness in the last week, but just the sheer... I don't know... volume of it... has taken a toll on me. I told her about how my desk and house have been a mess, my laundry undone, I keep losing stuff, and this weekend I backed into a truck parked across the street from our house. So very much NOT like me, any of that. She reminded me that these all are legitimate and normal parts of the grieving process. The grieving process! How about that!
Now we're scrambling for the possibility that we can join our youth ministry friends on retreat near the Cape. I could be SO productive here at home, but it would sure be nice to be there. Just the decision is too much for me right now. My life is good and I know how blessed I am but I guess I'm just in emotional overload.
It would help if the darn sun would come out.

a sign that not much has changed

On our way out of the funeral this morning, we peeked in the rectory garage door- there's always good stuff in rectory garages- and found this sign, still there from when I worked there, over 5 years ago now. The maintenance man had put out the sign to keep people from walking their dogs on the church lawn. This is what he found the next day:

mortality moments

I'm almost all the way through this two-day stint of funerals and wakes, and ready to be all-the-way-through. I'm exhausted and could use a good cry. This morning's funeral for David was beautiful and touching, and it was helpful to remember through it that David is finished with his years and years of suffering.
After the funeral I saw a girl with whom I've kept in touch since leaving there- she's a junior in college now. She hugged me hard and cried so hard that my shirt was wet. Her parents are away this week and she's serving as "mom" to her younger brother and sister, and I imagine it must have been a hard thing, experiencing this sad situation as the grown-up-est.
The wake for Alex was sobering and kind of awkward. Since there were so many people there, they put the casket in the day chapel and had everyone sit in the main church while others, a section of the church at a time, filed through. They had Christian music playing and a slide show on a projector of pictures of Alex throughout his life. It was, I suppose, the only way to manage such large crowds, but it was difficult because everyone was seated as they came in, which meant you could be far away from anyone you knew, which happened to one of the high school girls I know. I helped her jump the line and walk through with friends who could help her. The kids in Alex's class have not, until now, seen a young person like themselves in an open casket.
I worked with a therapist once long ago who taught me that teenagers at some point experience their first "mortality moment"- that moment when they first realize that they are mortals. I suppose a lot of young people in North Andover are having their mortality moments this week.

tough week

This week two former youth group kids of mine, from two different parishes, passed away. David was 19 years old and died after a long fight with brain cancer. Alex was 17 and collapsed last week after a track meet event and never regained consciousness. It's a stunner hearing about both these deaths in the same week- their deaths were two days apart.
Alex was a sweetheart and though I didn't know him well, he made me smile and I know he was fun to be around and kind. The worst part of this death is the shock of it- he had been accepted to two impressive colleges and was poised to... well, keep living. No one did or could have seen this coming and no one was prepared for it- his life just changed completely, and one week later he died. I imagine he was having a very normal day right up until his meet.
I have known David since he was in middle school- a skinny kid with patchy hair after a serious bout with the cancer that eventually took him. He told us in class one night that he didn't believe in God because God gave him cancer- but that Jesus was okay. I loved his insights into faith, his well-earned cynicism but sure hope. He was sunny and funny and strong. Just before I left his parish, we went on a white-water-rafting retreat. It was a wonderful weekend. After a silent "emmaus walk" in the campground where we stayed, he told us that God had told him that everything was going to be all right. So many of us that night came back from that walk with the same answer from God. Everything would be all right- whatever that meant.
I hope he held onto that over the years. I hope he knew that God didn't give him cancer and that Jesus was even better than okay. I know he knows it now.
So, two wakes and two funerals in one week, for two beautiful young people. Pray with me for their friends and families.

Spring updates from Lindall Hill

A bit of encouragement for my friends in Maine and Alaska. Spring is
heading your way, and it's pretty!




Looky, budding flowers!








New phlox... the rest hasn't bloomed yet. Note the black mulch, a bold new fashion statement this year!







They look just like their picture on the tag. We had these in our back yard garden growing up- I called them toothbrushes.










Pretty blues







Our tree is budding out too. Our lilac has blossoms coming in, at least 5! I didn't get a good shot of them today but you'll see them soon, I betcha...

All my exes live in Massachusetts

I realized today that whereas in the 20's I had ex-boyfriends, what I have now is ex-parishes.
I went to a workshop Monday and walked in a bit late, as is our fashion... there weren't any places for both of us to sit down right away, so we stood awkwardly for a bit scanning the room. I saw our intern at the corner table, sitting with all the youth ministry staff from my most recent former parish, along with the current youth minister from my first parish. It was so weird, all of them sitting together- a big blast from my past right there at one table.
I was a bit distracted by this all during the presentation, and wondered if it was weird that I was so... weirded out by their presence. I guess though that it's not the parish walls I've been effected by, but the relationships. So in that way, my weirded-ness seems appropriate. I don't imagine that all the people at that table were discussing me, or even knew their connection in me. I know I'm not a rock star- it meant nothing to any of them, but it sure was striking to me.
Thursday morning I went back to my first parish for a funeral, which was also awkward, but it's been long enough since I left there that the pain that I felt in leaving there has really faded substantially. I was happy to run into a woman that I knew back then, and to sit with her, but she told me that she is no longer a parishioner there. She said she was "forced out" in much the way that I was. It was sad to hear but also affirming- it meant I didn't just imagine the way I was treated back then, by the pastor and parish I loved.
Hey, breaking up is hard to do, but all those bad boyfriends cleared the way for my beloved One, and all those difficult parishes and their painful ends led me to the place I'm in now- a happy home for my soul.

You looking for something?

My counter, wayyyy at the bottom of the page, tells me about the people who look at my blog. It tells me where the lookers live, and how they found my page, and the coolest thing about that is what google searches led people to my pages. Here are the last 9 google references:

(go ahead, click on the picture, fool)


9. TDBI (that's the Too Dangerously Beautiful Idea)
8. Elfed Myself (seriously? With all the people who've elfed themselves, mine is what you come up with at google?)
7. Cat actress (I have no idea)
6. Cat pheromones (remember that failed attempt at reconciling my fighting cats?)
5. Do U hang the American flag when it’s raining (no.)
4. Is it safe to take a shower when it’s raining (yes.)
3. Happy Cat Pheremones (sic)
2. Milestone ministries (hey a ministry one! cool!)
1. Describing rainy day (huh. Must be a poet looking for inspiration. Hope they found it at my site!)

Funny, huh, what you can know about the world these days?

another million dollar idea (two new posts)

I think they should name that hawk who lives at Fenway Park. I think they should call her BRUIN because she's a Boston Hawk...ey.

Youch

I threw my back out this week. I did it... washing my hands. Yep, that's it, I just leaned forward to wash my hands and suddenly I sort of slumped over the sink, in awful pain. Weird! Scott, my knight, jumped into action and ran for the aleve. Since then he's had to pick up everything I've dropped and listen to me groan every time I change positions or cough. He's pretty great.
I don't know if I've mentioned that I'm turning 40 this year.
I'm not sad or weird about it but I do catch myself watching for new signs of aging. I am kind of fascinated by the fact that my body is changing. The last time I was at the hairdressers, I eavesdropped on the conversation between the customer in the next chair, and her hairdresser. She said "You know, it was like it allllll went downhill when I turned 40. Suddenly, every time I look in the mirror--- EVERY TIME--- I look different! Something looks older every time! My eyes went, my hair changed, and I just looked OLD all of a sudden!!" Is this my fate?
As interesting as it all is to me, I don't want to spend my life making a symptoms-checklist, subtracting points from my total and waiting to hit zero. I know I can't turn back time but I do want to live, while I'm alive. I may not ever look like I did at my peak, but my life is so great.
Now, somebody come help me out of this chair.

keys are good

Our maintenance guy gave me a new set of keys at work with a tag on them that says "keys are good." I've decided to keep them on there, because, it's true.

I could beweeeeve I could fwyyyyy...

Today I was listening to the Bryant Park Project, one of my favorite daily NPR shows. It's two hours long but it usually takes me an entire work day to listen to the whole thing, between games of tetris. Just kidding. It does take me all day though- between phone calls and chats with co-workers and hard, hard work.
Anyway. Today on the BPP, they featured a story of a tantric practitioner who was on a live tv show in India, and claimed that he could use his powers to kill another person on the show. (Apparently tantric has more to it than the whole sex thing.) Anyway, the host of the show (or maybe another guest, I had a bit of a hard time following who was who) said "okay, if that's true, kill me now."
It's kind of a long story- the tantric guy agrees to kill him and says it'll take 3 minutes. The time passes and the host is not dead. He asks for 15 more minutes. Still alive. The Indian tv station runs the show, live, into the next half hour with the words "BREAKING NEWS" across the bottom of the screen. Finally they agree to do a big deal gathering where he'll perform the Gigantic Spell of Super Destruction, or something like that. The host says "Sure". This, alas, is not effective either and the host lives on happy and smiling, and the tantric guy's rep. is seriously damaged.
I laughed, marvelling, through this whole story and the accompanying youtube videos, and then thought, "there but for the grace of God go I."
Well, not really- I wouldn't threaten to kill anyone with my religion or philosophy, and don't belong to one that claims I could anyway. In fact, my faith isn't one that would easily be used to do physical harm in the way the tantric guy said he could. Emotional and spiritual damage, yes- but not killing anyone with my chant.
But, I wondered what the tantric guy is thinking now- he put all his faith in his chant and ritual to do this big feat, and in front of the entire country, he fails. Where does he go now?
When I was little, I remember sitting one day at St. John's- I don't remember why I was there, because our parish was St. Charles, but whatever- and looking up at the beautiful church architecture. It's a beautiful church with paintings on the ceiling and high peaks and marble and whatnot. The space above the pews seemed massive to me then. I remember thinking to myself, "I could fly right now."
I really believed that if I put my faith in God, and stood up on the back of the pew in front of me, and pushed off, I could fly around that empty space above everyone. I BELIEVED it! But, I didn't try. Because... what if I couldn't? I'd be completely embarrassed, standing up on that pew back and tumbling into the laps of the people in front of us.
I was extremely disappointed in my own lack of faith in God. I could see how weak my faith really was. I still kind of wish I'd given it a shot- but now I guess I'll never know if God and I could have made miracles way back then.
How many of us are so faithful that we're willing to put our own faith to the test? Where would we be if we failed that test? Is it better not to look that closely at the possibilities?

pain is pain

I remember when I was a social worker, a woman in my cube-area complained to me that she was annoyed to have to see a priest to talk about marriage. She wanted to know what that priest could ever know about marriage for crying out loud.
I reminded her that we were childless, yet our job was getting parents to raise their children better. I guess you don't have to experience everything to know the difference between what works and what doesn't.
I worked at a residential program long ago, with adolescent boys. One time an adult said to a kid "I know you feel this way..." and the boy, enraged, said "YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW I FEEL!!!" But the man who was confronting him said "listen- pain is pain! You have pain, I have pain, we both have pain. I know how it feels to be in pain. I can help you through it." I've thought a lot about that over the years- is it true that pain is pain, and joy is joy, and fear is fear, and our experiences of those feelings aren't so unique as we may think they are?
I have had a fairly easy life so far... more or less unscathed by serious tragedy, I still think I am a pretty empathic person. Do I have to have lost a loved one to know how that must feel to a person? I think that maybe we all react to pain in different ways- in whatever ways work for us- but maybe fundamentally we are connected by our similar feelings on a basic level.
I may have mentioned this before, but one Saturday we were listening to This American Life, and they played a piece of Julia Sweeney's one woman show, "Letting Go of God". One of the things that reverberated in my head from that show was Julia saying "Jesus had a pretty bad day for your sins." Her point was that since Jesus' suffering had been quick, lasting only one day, and hadn't, in her opinion, been as long or awful as her dying brother's suffering, that somehow it didn't really count. It wasn't good enough.
I've thought often about what I might say to Julia Sweeney if I ever ran into her. People write to her all the time trying to convince her back from atheism. I think I'd say that Jesus did a good thing by experiencing suffering in a most human way- physical pain and rejection and betrayal from those he trusted most- and that to me, his suffering didn't have to match mine, or whoever's, because pain is pain, and Jesus felt pain like I do. I appreciate him experiencing pain that he didn't have to experience, so that he'd know how I feel when I suffer.
That idea, that pain is pain, it should be something that unites us- and I think Jesus saw it that way. HOW we suffer isn't as important, overall, as how we deal with it- and because we all know pain, we can help each other through it.

Ahhhhlelu... almost!!!

Ahhhhh here I am! It's a quick moment of peace between Triduum events... which I'm taking advantage of by baking pie and boiling potatoes for tomorrow's feast day feast. I'm wiped out! My friend sent me an email last week checking on me, since I haven't blogged in so long. Sorry public!
Triduum is my favorite Church "season". I'm so excited to be at my parish this year, thankful to be here where I feel appreciated, welcome, valued, a part-of. It's my first Triduum here, and I'm overwhelmingly grateful to be here. The staff has been working hard, and I know that tonight's Vigil will be wonderful. I think that if you work on a parish staff, and if by Easter Sunday you're not exhausted, then you're not doing it right.
At home, I've been working hard to get everything ready for my guests of honor, which are Scott and myself. I've done all the shopping, cleaning, prepping, gifting... all so that tomorrow, our holiest of days in our little family, we will feel honored and comfortable and peaceful and joyful. At work, the same process- cleaning, decorating, preparing, making everything perfect for our guests on this holiest of holy days. The excitement is palpable. Hospitality is the Christian practice featured this week in our church. The honored guests there are those who join us for their one-time-a-year, and those who come every week. The mood is befitting the season, and even the somber nature of the Holy Thursday and Good Friday liturgies was tinged with joy... we all know what comes at the end of this process, and like cleaning the house for Easter, the hard work is fun, because we know how the story ends. We don't mind listening to the awful bad news of Good Friday because we are guaranteed a telling of the Good News of Easter. It's all good.
So, you can probably tell by my writing that I'm tired, but it's a good tired, an earned tired. I will sleep deeply and happy tonight- and maybe tomorrow I'll have a chance to catch up on some overdue blogging!

stirrings

I felt it!!! I have been noticing the subtle signs of spring... the other day I saw a few little shoots of green coming up between the muck and garbage at the Dunkin' Donuts drivethrough. And recently we saw Robins! (I never seem to notice that robins are gone, until they show up again... where do they go?)
But the most important thing is, I felt it... I felt that little stirring of energy that tells me that Spring is on its way. It's no mistake that Lent happens at this time of year, beginning in darkness and cold and muckyness, and then, as we get closer to the time of new life in Christ, the world around us joins in the celebration. It feels like the whole world is readying itself for Easter.
I feel physically better when it gets warmer and brighter out. I feel inspired to grow and change and move more. It's a powerful feeling and I love to feel the first stirrings of it every year.
I can't eat another bowl of oatmeal. I made it for four whole weeks but I just can NOT go on. I had a hard time getting into suffering this Lent- I am too happy, I know the ending of the story too well, I have heard the Good News and can't pretend that I haven't. "Jesus said to them, "While the bridegroom is with them, the attendants of the bridegroom cannot fast, can they? So long as they have the bridegroom with them, they cannot fast." (Mark 2:19)
Bring on Spring, bring on Easter!!!!

My Social Profile has been updated...

Facebook sent me this uplifting message the other day:
"In total, you were reviewed for dating 5 times and no people expressed interest in you.
You are more desirable than less than 20% of 23,333,109 people."

Nice to know. I'm going to go ahead and assume it's because I'm married that those 5 people decided not to express their interest. It would be in poor taste, you know.

When I was a kid I knew for sure where I stood on the social ladder. I wasn't one of the popular crowd, but I had friends who were- and I wasn't a total loser, but I had friends who would have been considered that. I spent a lot of time in the music department and with the drama department, and I was a cheerleader. I dated some, and was single some, and had a lot of fun. I guess I'd say I was in the upper middle class, social status-wise, at my high school.

Now kids get actual rankings delivered to their email inboxes, thanks to Facebook. I wonder how that kind of news I got from facebook would have made me feel as a teenager.

Check out this hearing test- then tell me what you think!

It's just that...

The other day I heard a great quote on NPR that I can't get out of my head;
"If God had wanted us to fly he wouldn't have given us the railroad."
It begs the question; how involved are we in making our own way? How much can we attribute to God's will? It's something we've discussed at the Church often- how people blame God for their sadness/hurt/disappointment. I have firsthand experience of people who glibly chirped "it must have been God's will!!!" when they heard of our miscarriages.
I am realizing what an easy trap it is to fall into- the blaming of God- especially since there's nowhere to look to find the answer to why-bad-things-happen-to-good-people. (except, I guess, the famous book... maybe I should read that?)
So what control does God have of our daily lives? I read a quote once that described God as a loving shepherd with a hole in his fence but who refused to patch it. That just sounds like a dumb shepherd to me. Is free will really that important? Wouldn't a flock of happy, safe sheep be worth patching the stupid fence?
I've heard a lot of great analogies for how it all works- my friend Paula describes God like a GPS unit that gives us directions (and it's our decision to follow them or not) and I like to imagine it's like one of those choose-your-own-adventure books. We choose what page to flip to, but ultimately, God wrote the whole book.
But hey, I don't know. Do we try to swim, or pick up our feet and float wherever God's current moves us?