Thursday, June 05, 2008
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.
Monday, June 02, 2008
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.

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.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
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...
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...
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
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?
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
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?
Thursday, May 15, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, May 09, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, April 21, 2008
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...
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...
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
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?

(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?
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
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?
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?
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