Simple Woman's Day Book- lotsa links edition

FOR TODAY 01/29/10...
Outside My Window... The wind is blowing like crazy, and it's wicked cold out!! Today I ventured out to the grocery store but my list blew out of my pocketbook and away. I had to wing it, but I think I got almost everything we needed. I managed to spend plenty of money. Anyway, outside my window, it's cold.
I am thinking... about how good my life is. I met with friends from my old parish this week, and they had lots of stories to tell and good good gossip, and I had nothing. It's because my life is so good right now. Nothing big to tell, except for all I have to look forward to. I'm getting together with friends tomorrow and will have no stories to tell. Ah well, such is the good life.
I am thankful for... my job. We are hosting a three-night workshop this week and have over 70 people registered. It's going to be so good!!! Nowhere else can I imagine this working so well. I'm so thankful to be part of this community, working with my husband, in a great parish. I am truly fortunate, and truly thankful.
From the kitchen... I just made chocolate caramel bars with sea salt on top, for tomorrow's gathering. I am DYING to try them but they're supposed to be in the fridge overnight. I'm also going to be making puff pastry/cheese/onion thingies tomorrow too. YUM.
I am wearing... jeans, shirt, blah blah blah... but not for long, because Kate is here to give me a massage!!!
I am creating... just the food stuffs, oh and I've been trying to make a crocheted giraffe. I'll keep you posted on that.
I am going... to a friend's house tomorrow, to dip in her hot tub and drink wine and eat great stuff and see wonderful friends.
I am reading... I was called to Jury Duty this week, and brought all my homework with me, and took a pretty good stab at it, but after a while I had religion fatigue and switched to Are You There Vodka, It's Me Chelsea... by Chelsea Handler. It's a chuckle-out-loud kind of book, simultaneously funny and horrifying.
I am hoping... that all the people who registered for the workshop show up, and love it.
I am hearing... Scott's playlist while Kate gives him a great massage... also Scott moaning... :)
Around the house... the caramel bars are in the fridge, taunting me!!
One of my favorite things... is a weekend off. I had the craziest week! Three classes in three days, plus lunch, plus meetings and the usual whatnot, and jury duty Thursday. I was thrilled to sleep late on Friday and to look ahead at a nearly empty day. Maybe the free-ness of my weekend this time around is accentuated by the near-miss of almost being empaneled on the jury for a child-rape case. It was pretty close!! I think they dismissed me mostly because of my Catholicity. I'm so glad not to be going back there Monday.
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: Our Called and Gifted workshop, of course! I'm so excited. I think it's going to be great, but of course I do have Hostess Anxiety. I hope I've thought of everything, or will, in time.
Here is picture thought I am sharing.
It's the chocolate caramel bars, all set up and salted. Don't they look good?

A Retreat of My Own

Scott's away this weekend on the yearly Sophomore retreat, and I stayed home with GOF responsibilities. It was my first time back in the saddle of Youth Ministry after a couple of years now, and I was excited and nervous to be back, even if temporarily. I pulled out all my greatest YM hits and had a couple of extra go-to goodies in my bag, just in case, and I think it went fine. It's well-timed for my annual retreat season mourning period for my Youth Ministry days. I get another shot at it tomorrow.
Meanwhile, between GOF's I've had a whole day to myself. Oddly enough (and maybe I've written about this here before?) I think that at heart I am an introvert, well, a little at least- I crave days like this, where I don't have to talk to anyone, or hear any noise, or be anyplace at anytime. Even when we travel, at some point in the day I feel a real need to head back to the hotel room, to touch home plate in some way, and once I have, I feel ready to go back out there. Today is an elongated version of that, I think.
So I slept a little late, had my usual low-carb breakfast (I have a one-egg omelet every day- usually with spinach, mushrooms and goat cheese, but when I run out of goat cheese like today, it's with cream cheese. And bacon. Two strips.) and then puttered around a little. I had considered day trips- maybe to Maine, maybe a drive to parts unknown with my camera- but as the morning went on, I was feeling pretty good where I was. I did laundry, cleaned the kitchen, and took a shower and then went out into the world.
I have ordered all my school books but not all have arrived, including Let Your Life Speak by Parker Palmer, which I am to have read by Tuesday noon. So I went to the Barnes and Noble nearby, bought a coffee, and sat down and read the whole darn book. (Is that stealing?) It's a great book, it turns out- I can't wait to get my own copy so I can scribble in it, there are lots of great lines.
Home again, I cooked up some cheddar cheese crisps (oh my GOSH they're good! And so easy! Nothing better than a new way to eat cheese!!) and did my chores, finished all my reading for school (!) and now here I am at last in my chair, snug in a sleeping bag and dreaming of dinner.
I know Scott's weekend is going well, and I like the idea of my day being full of prayer for him and his kids and team. I simultaneously love the staying-in and lone-ness of this day and can't-flippin'-wait for him to come home.

My Word!

Yes, Virginia, I did find my word! (At least, I'm pretty sure- this is the word that keeps coming back to me... so far) My word for this year is...... wait for it....... REACH.
I know, it doesn't sound all that exciting, but to me, it has intriguing meaning. I think it means that I need to reach out to more people, in ministry and in my personal life (heck maybe I'll have a #1 next year if this works out). I think it means that I need to spread out and reach new areas and ideas in my work. I think it means that I should reach beyond my comfort zone, beyond the things in my life that hold me back.
When I explained it all to Scott, he said "that's very positive!" and that is all the affirmation I need. So here I go.

butt-dial!

Today on my way home from class, I got a call on my cell phone from a number I didn't recognize. I often don't answer my phone even if I do know who's calling, as you may remember... but especially this evening, I decided to ignore it and wait for a message. I was on Storrow Drive and it was dark out and busy, and that's a crazy road!
A while later (it took quite a while, so I should have known...) I got the beep for a message. I dialed it up (on a much saner stretch of my route) and heard that I'd been butt-dialed. I think it's happening more and more nowadays, with people using touch-sensitive, non-flip phones.
I couldn't help myself, I listened to the whole thing. It was probably a minute long, and I couldn't recognize the voice that I heard, muffled, in the background. But I could tell that they were... closing drawers? Yes, I think that's what that sound is... I pictured the caller in their bedroom, putting clothes away after finishing their last load of laundry. I imagined it was a busy Mom, probably telling her kids to clean up their room or finish their homework, or that dinner would be ready any minute. I bet she'd just come home from work and squeezed in that last load between picking up her kids and getting dinner on the table.
Of course, I have no real idea. But I can't be the only one who will listen to a butt-dial message. It's a sneaky glimpse into the life of a stranger, a misty hint of a life's story. I think I like butt-dial messages better than voice-mail messages!

A Year Still New...

One of our youth group-ers asked me the other night "how long into the new year is it acceptable to say 'Happy New Year' to people?" After some serious thought, I said that 5 days in was the limit. He told me he had wished someone in a store Happy New Year and she had seemed quite taken aback. But he confirmed that it was on the 7th, and therefore my 5 days answer was right on.
But here I am still mulling over the newness of the year- I can't let the resolution thing drop. I have started backing my car in to spots, a little (once) and I think I'm not all that good at it, so the resolution will be good for me, I think. I picked it because I have this vague worry that I have done something in my life for the very last time before I die, and have not known it. I know, seriously, what a crazy fear, huh? But I wonder if my Dad knew, that last time that he skied, that he'd NEVER do it again. It's why I want to try running sometime.
This year I did not publish my Top Ten Friends list. I have more than ten friends, and fortunately it was not hard to come up with a bunch to place on the list, but I realized in the process of it that I don't have a #1 this year. I have a clear #2, and following, but no #1. I don't consider this a sad thing, because my list and dinner schedules are otherwise full. But without a #1, does that mean I should, de-facto, promote my #2 to #1? I think my #2 would be a little weirded out by being told s/he is my #1. I just haven't decided how to proceed, so everyone will just have to try and survive one year without knowing how they rate in my life.
Today I found a blog article about choosing a WORD to focus on for the year, rather than a goal. Ooooooh!!! What a neat idea!!! I don't know what my word might be, but I'm intrigued. I think I'll ask God for a word and see what comes to me. Or maybe I'll field suggestions, that ought to be interesting...

Hurry hurry hurry hurry..... (run!)

I visited my spiritual director this morning, and as always, came away with lots to chew on. I was telling her about my whole hurrying on of time that I've written about here, and how I've become more and more aware of my tendency to do this over the past couple of years. I told her that it had been a lifelong trait of mine, described how my walk home from school was usually 20 minutes (while I dallied and played and sang songs to the trees and visited the neighborhood pets on my way down the hill) if I'd had a good day- but when I knew I'd be getting in trouble as soon as I got home, I would somehow unconsciously race there. I remember cursing myself (slow down!! Enjoy your freedom while it lasts!!) but I almost couldn't help myself, I just wanted to get it over with. The anticipation was an uncomfortable place for me to linger in.
Now I find I am worse than ever in this way- I have little patience for the introductory chords at the beginning of songs, preferring to jump right to the words- I click ahead on youtube videos that take too long to start. I have no patience for opening credits.
I even find myself checking IMDB for the ending of movies so I won't have to wait to find out.
The same thing happens with my relationship with God. I don't like to tarry in the unknown and unknowable, I want to get TO it. I am happy to learn from God and happy to do what God wants me to do, but come ON, just tell me what you want and I will DO it already!
The weird thing is, I find myself in a section of life that I am enjoying so much- I am so happy right now- that I pray for it to go on for a while. But it is a tension that I see and fight in myself constantly. It can very easily translate into a fear or doominess, a waiting for another shoe to drop.
But the good news is, I know that no matter what, I end up okay. I end up loved and grown by God. I'm curious to find out how it will happen each time, but I always do know that it will. I guess that's what they mean when they talk about waiting and hoping "in joyful expectation."

I like to sing-a!

When I was interviewing for my social work job at the Department of Social Services, they asked me how I handled stress. They wanted to know if I had things that I would do to deal with high stress. Any habits, techniques, rituals? I told them that when I'm stressed, I sing really loud in my car.
That is still true- when I have a hard day, and get into my car with tense shoulders and a tight throat, I find just the right song to belt along with, full throttle. By the time I get home I am looser, more relaxed, and happier.
I love to sing when I'm happy, too- I love to use my whole voice- love the feel of it bowling out of my lungs. It is cathartic. The words of the song can help, but it's that feeling that really makes it real and good and important to me.
We finally did have our Lessons and Carols concert, just in the nick of time, the very last night of the Christmas season. The concert went well and I benefited from the extra rehearsal we got between the other two postponed dates. I had a lot of fun singing with the group, and stretching my brain again to read that alto line, and I had the BEST time with my friend Kristen, who (whom?) I dragged along with me- an absolute blast.
I like to sing-a!

Scratch that.

Well, I've blown through two or three New Year's Resolutions already. The first one was "Be nice." I haven't necessarily been MEAN, but I have been un-nice. The second day of my new way of life was a less nice day than I've had in a while. Ah well. No point in keeping on trying, right?
I think I'll take a break and put all my resolve into my Lenten promise. Lent is just around the corner.
But true to my form, I'm looking forward to a lot of great stuff in my future. In February we get back to LOST- did you hear that they rescheduled the State of the Union Address because it was scheduled for the first night of the new season of LOST?
And of course, I'm looking forward to Lent, and then to Easter, and then to the week after Easter when we will be heading to Vegas for the National Conference of Catechetical Leaders.
And by then, I'll probably be better in many ways, due to my wildly successful Lenten promises.

Simple Woman's Day Book

FOR TODAY 01/02/10... my first time writing the new year!
Outside My Window... The snow piles up, slowly but surely. It's been snowing since forever but there's not a huge amount of snow... tonight the wind is supposed to whip up and more snow is on the way.
I am thinking... about whether or not I'll get to work on time tomorrow morning. Sundays are not good days for snow when one works at a church, and the first Sunday of each month is especially busy for our parish. Baptism registrations, Coffee and Donuts after Mass, Baptism class, and this weekend was supposed to be the Lessons and Carols concert, postponed from December because of... snow. We shall see what goes on and what doesn't, but I'll be glad to get in there, having made it through the morning commute.
I am thankful for... the amazing blessings/fortune surrounding me, including a husband who calls me "my love" and laughs at my jokes, a cat that is playing, literally, with a ball of wool, and a fridge full of food.
From the kitchen... Yesterday I made a family heirloom recipe, Potpourri Soup. It's a tomato-based pot of yum, with barley, celery, hamburger, carrots, and cabbage, and it's deeelicious and perfect for weather like this weekend's. Tonight I have a wee chicken to bake. Nothing like the smell of chicken baking. Yum.
I am wearing... fresh pajamas! I've pretty much been in pajamas for two days now, but I did just take a shower after frolicking in the snow and have nice clean jammies on for the night.
I am creating... not much these days! I have a half-finished scarf for Scott in the works, and I haven't been baking much lately... I'm taking the break from school to heart and doing very little, overall.
I am going... nowhere. Scott is starting to get antsy after a few days lounging but it takes more than that for it to get old to me! Home is my favorite place to be.
I am reading... Nothing. See a theme here? I'm between semesters, so no compulsory reading, but Sarah Vowell's The Wordy Shipmates is sitting next to my chair tempting me.
I am hoping... that the new year will be blissfully wonderful and peaceful for everyone.
I am hearing... You've Got Mail (I was watching Lawrence Welk but Scott turned it off...) and Scott puttering around in the kitchen. Oh and there is that wind they warned us about.
Around the house... cats are snuggling up to radiators.
One of my favorite things... we got a fake tree this year, finally a Christmas plan to stick with (rather than the haphazard ways of yore, where we'd get a little one for the tabletop one year, then a big one, then one that Scott wouldn't allow us to put ornaments on, or the year we decorated our dress dummy.) I love how our ornaments from our lifetimes are mingled now on it. Another one of my favorite things is the way Christmas lights look peeking through snow in our neighborhood. Oh and the sound of a snowplow.
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: things grind back up into normal pace this week, and I look forward to the return to regularity that comes finally after this holiday season. I'm looking forward to my shows being back on first-run, and eating like a normal (albeit low-carb) person, and having a schedule to my day.
Here is picture thought I am sharing...
Aw heck, why not- here are a few:

Happy New Decade

I guess I didn't notice how bad the aughts were. I personally had some great times and some tough times, for sure, a true adult kind of life, with challenges and cheers. But I guess I didn't realize how overall badly this decade has been for the world.
It's not that I haven't been paying attention. I listen to the news, including the Canada news, all day every day- so much so that I do pretty well at the Wait Wait, Don't Tell Me news quiz every week.
But now that they're doing end-of-year and end-of-decade lists and reviews everywhere, I'm hearing everyone say that it was a bad decade. Of course: 9/11, war, Bush (there I said it), the economic crash, you know, etc. Even Daniel Schorr on NPR declared it good riddance and hoped for better in the tens. (Read 'em and weep!)
I remember as a kid, reading about WWII and imagining what it would be like to live in a time of war, and it didn't look, in my mind, like my life looks now. I thought war time would be a time of banding together, being hopeful, supporting the war effort, sacrificing to that end. None of that seems to happen these days. I wondered what it would be like to live in "hard times," and I guess, now I know.
But I'm hopeful for 2010- I am willing to compartmentalize life into decades and leave one behind in favor of starting another. So here's to Twenty-Ten, and beyond. Even if the aughts were really great for you and yours, I hope the tens will be better.

I've been in your house!

There's a house at the bottom of the hill, one of the big old ones in our town, that we pass every day on our way to and from our house. One day when we went buy we saw a sign that there was an estate sale going on there. We could not contain our curiosity and walked down to check it out.
The house was full- filled to the brim with stuff. It looked like the person who'd lived there had not done any work cleaning or organizing or even cooking in a long time. It was similar to the houses on the new shows about hoarders that are on all the cable channels now. Each room was more amazing than the first- the kitchen cabinets were full but with no product newer than the last decade. The bathroom tubs were full of clothing and toiletries, and each bedroom was full of clothes and other stuff. The attic had a long pole from one end of the main room up there to the other, and hanging from it were hundreds of formal gowns from a department stores- some dresses were there in two or three different sizes or colors of the same style, and most of them had the tags on them. It made us wonder about the woman who had lived there. The sale workers were understandably tight-lipped about her story but we somehow found out that she had not died, but had just... left. We didn't envy the jobs of those staffers, and knew that whatever hadn't been sold would literally have to be shoveled out, into a dumpster or two or four.
In the front room of the blisteringly hot attic, I found a pile of boxes and file cabinets full of pictures and letters and memories from the family that had lived there. They were insanely personal, from times they'd been apart, sweet letters of love and promise and hope for the future. I felt at the same time wicked and privileged to read it all and I soaked it up. I love that stuff. But it broke my heart to think it would be shoveled out with the rest of the junk.
Just tonight we drove by the house, which has been completely cleaned out and is being lived in, by someone. Some repairs have been done but it could stand some paint and the little garage out back is still broken and ramshackle. I don't know anything more about the house now than I did then, but as I drove past tonight and tried to catch a peek in the windows, I whispered to the new tenants there "I've been in your house!"

Welcome to the CAPE

I think in parishes at Christmas time (and Ash Wednesday, and Palm Sunday, and Easter) there can be some mixed emotions at the crowds that appear. The CAPE Catholics all descend and clog the parking lot and the pews, and while it looks wonderful, feels wonderful, and is just the way we think it ought to be all year long, we can feel frustrated too- why isn't it this way all year long? Are these people here to be posers, fake part-time Catholics, doing it because it's tradition, or are they really here to worship God? Why don't they want to worship God with us all year long?
Last night at our most crowded Mass (at four, which the harumphers will harumph "oh they want to get it over with so they can go on with their Christmas plans!") I stood with my pastor in the balcony overlooking the crowd. He said "just watch, half of these people will leave as soon as Communion is over." And we did watch, and he was right, a lot of people did leave after Communion. I said to him, "but... look at how many stayed!" He rolled his eyes at me a bit, but smiled. I'm always telling the staff to think the best of people, be optimistic. They give me the same reaction, but I think they see some whiff of wisdom in it. Anyway, I told the pastor that it was probably best for people to start leaving early, so as to lessen the clog in the parking lot.
I know there are reasonable reasons to harumph at this sudden Christianity that strikes around these holidays. But I think it's better to be hopeful. If they came, they came because God called them to, whether or not they know that. They didn't have to come. Maybe they think it's tradition, or guilt, that calls them to their knees once (or four times) a year, but I think it's the Holy Spirit. And maybe while they're with us, they'll feel a deeper call. Maybe they'll hear something inspiring in the sermon or the songs, or maybe this year someone will smile at them warmly and they'll realize they miss the community that they could be finding at church.
I couldn't help but have a full heart looking down at the crowds of half-familiar faces and wobbly toddlers and perfumed up old ladies. I was glad to see it looking like it ought to look, and feeling like it ought to feel, and I smiled warmly at everyone I could meet eyes with. I hope they come back.

Christmas Week Joys and Woes

Today we start our home-stretch toward Christmas day, and our heads are reeling with the financial pressures and deadlines, and the weird schedule at work that is a combination of lots of events to get to, but not a lot of work to do.
Today and tomorrow we gather with our Pastor, whose sister Nancy died last Friday. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in November, and died so soon after. It happened so fast, and so sickeningly suddenly. We're mourning for her whole family but mostly for our Pastor and friend, who has now lost two beloved siblings within a year, too young. She didn't know she had cancer, at all- until she went into renal failure and was hospitalized. How long had it been at work in her, silently wreaking havoc, without her even knowing? How horrible to be betrayed by your own body like that, keeping secrets and making promises while slowly getting ready to kick your legs out from under you.
I remember hearing a doctor on an NPR interview who had been paralyzed many years before. The interviewer asked him whether he resented his body, and he said no, that instead he thanked it for sticking with him through all he'd put it through. I love that attitude. But I wonder if people with cancer like Nancy's can ever get to that point.
The pastor is a faith-filled and joyful man, and it's crushing to see him sad- and it's so awful that it's happening around Christmas. He told Scott that of course none of them had done any shopping. It makes me want to help him, but of course there's not much I can do.
I'm slowly starting to understand how God works in these situations... I think... I think He, too, would like to make everything better, to let people live forever, to never experience sadness- but He knows, He must know, that this is all part of a much bigger picture. I have to believe that even though we fear death, and leaving the ones we love, or the ones we love leaving us, God knows about a bigger and better truth, a bigger and better goodness. But it must be hard for him to watch us suffer- like a parent whose heart breaks at their child's tears, but knows that the tears are part of the growing and learning that the child needs. Remember parents used to say "this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you..."? Maybe that's true for our Father, too.

Don't wash your face with snow, that's silly.

It's snowing like the dickens up here on the hill. This morning I got up at 6:22 to dig out and head in for the 9:00 Mass, but there was no way that was going to happen. The snow is dumping down in flakes so tiny that you can hardly believe they'd amount to anything. But you know what they say:
little snow = big snow and big snow = little snow.
At 6:22 we probably had about 4 inches but the weather people said that I should stay off the roads because the winds were wicked. So I did, and went back to bed. Up again at 8:22, there were 4 more inches. Now at 10:30, there's probably 2 more inches and still it comes. I've missed the 9AM baptism and the Breakfast with Santa, which they very silly-ly decided to go on with.
Next target for takeoff, to get there for 1:00 baptisms. We shall see.
Here's how it looks from here:

Christmas preparations on the Hill

If tomorrow wasn't supposed to be such a busy day, I'd be pretty excited about the massive amounts of snow forecasted for tonight and tomorrow. We are supposed to have four baptisms at 3 different times tomorrow, along with Breakfast with Santa after the 9 and the 11. Not to mention the "Red Sox" Swap (because it doesn't seem right to do a Yanke swap here in Soxland) and my musical comeback in Lessons and Carols. Ah well. Maybe we can limp in there at some point and make half the day happen.
But here at the homefront, my shopping is done, and wrapped. The tree is lit and surrounded with pretty packages, and soon Scott will be home from the mall with his bounty. I spent the afternoon making treats for my co-workers.Here's what I cheffed up:

These are nifty little treats my sister told me about: pretzels with rollos melted on top and then squished down with an M&M, and I added a drizzle of white chocolate. Oh yeah, they're yummy.


















This is bark made with graham crackers, emphasis on the word CRACK, they are so freakin' good. I broke up M&Ms on top to make them even more festive.














I packed them up together in nify plastic chinese-food-takeout box things. Festive!!

Love love love

When I was a teenager, all I wanted in the world was to fall in love and for someone to fall in love with me. I remember that every time I had some kind of relationship with a boy, I looked for symptoms of being in love, very much like I do now when I'm afraid that I'm coming down with the flu. Is my throat sore? Does my stomach feel funny? Why am I so tired, IS THIS THE FLU???
As a teenager, I knew all about love, what it looked like in the movies and on tv (Joanie Loves Chachi!) and what it was supposed to feel like. I think all teenagers are similar- especially girls, if they're like me- LOVE was the language of my teen years. I talk a lot about love when I describe having a relationship with God to teenagers now. I tell them that when I found out God loved me already, it felt to me like i was falling in love with Him. I suddenly wanted to know more about Him, I wanted to spend as much time as possible with Him, I thought about Him all the time. Love songs on the radio became hymns. I wanted my friends to know Him.
When I teach about evangelization, and about living in the Kingdom, I tell people we should be like people in love- wanting to tell the world about our new special One, glowing from the happiness of knowing Him. I say, "when you're at a restaurant or at a hotel, you can pick out the honeymooners, can't you? You can see it written all over them!" I say, maybe this is what kingdom-living looks like- maybe we should glow from the feeling of loving and being so loved.
What's funny is we spend very little time at church talking about God's overwhelming love for us. Oh it's mentioned, but sort of in the context of theology. Those of us from MY generation are mocked because we were catechized just post-Vatican II. Religious educators scorn "oh for you it was all crafts and 'Jesus looooves youuu'" as if that is the worst message one could teach or be taught about Jesus.
I wonder how different things would be in our Church if more people know about what it feels like to be in love with God? I wonder how many people would be surprised and changed- converted, if you will- to find out how much God loves them.
PS, God loves you!

My Brain Hurts!

I'm using my brain in new (okay,old) exciting ways this week. It's finals week in grad school, and I just passed in my take-home final for my Psych of Religious Development class, and should right now be studying for my New Testament final, which is Thursday in class. Blue books! I am not sure I've taken a blue book exam, ever. I have a study guide, and once I study that (maybe I'll use note cards!) I should be fine.
But the real brain-cell tickler is that I've been singing in the choir- a temporary gig, for Lessons and Carols. I was asked to join as an Alto, which I am not. I was a second-soprano, way back when. I'm totally new at reading the alto line in SATB music.
It's HARD! Altos never get their starting note, and they don't get to follow any melodical instinct. The alto line goes up and down when one least expects it. They're all over the place! But the sound altos make really does flesh out the sound of the choir, and it's cool to be the ones to sing the tricky notes. It turns out that I haven't lost all my music-reading abilities, and my voice is still pretty trustworthy.
It's old and new territory this week for me.
Okay, okay, I'm gonna go study.

I couldn't do it, really.

Have you seen "Men of a Certain Age" yet? It's on TNT, starring Ray Romano, Scott Bakula, and Andre Brauer. It's funny, but it's really dark, too. I wasn't expecting that. It is the kind of show you kinda wish you could stop watching, even while you can't stop watching.
Ray's character is in the midst of a divorce, and watching him interact with his ex-wife is tough. During scenes like this I picture them on their wedding day, so happy. I imagine how sure they must have felt about each other that day.
But the thing that really gets me is this: how do you separate from someone who knows you so well, who you know so well? Even after only 8 years of marriage, I know Scott so well. I know he can't keep a secret, I know how cranky he gets when he's hungry. I know what makes him laugh, I know how emotional he is. I know how he'll react to things. I know he wakes up happy... well, you see what I mean, I KNOW him. Intimately. And he knows me, like no one else does.
How do you live with distance between you and someone you know so well?

Mary's "yes"

So yesterday was our parish's feast day, the Immaculate Conception. Are you the last Catholic to hear that this immaculate conception is the conception of MARY, not of Jesus? Well it's true! Rumor has it Mary was conceived (in her mother's womb- this is always specified. I guess it's to distract people from asking where she was conceived, which is too personal a question.) without sin. How about that?
Every year on this day I hear a sermon about Mary and how fortunate we are that this young woman said "yes" to God, and agreed to be the God-bearer, the first tabernacle, if you will. I ponder this. If it's true that she was chosen even before she was born, then what choice did she really have? Would it even be possible that she could have said no? How would that work? Did God have a couple of other girls conceived without sin, just as plan B,C,D? Or would her "no" have pushed back the date of the coming of our Messiah until God could work up another immaculate conception of some other girl and grow her up to child-bearing age?
But I guess she, being human like us, had a choice. Sure, she was specially gifted and prepared for this pivotal role in history, in the Kingdom. But ultimately, it came down to her accepting God's plan for her and agreeing to participate in it, using the gift God gave her. Did Mary know how special she was, how gifted she was for doing God's work? Maybe she had an inkling. How different would the world have been if she refused to move in the ways God asked her to move? Or, if she was too afraid to try?
I think the same is true for all of us. Maybe we have very little awareness of the gifts God has given us. Maybe we are afraid to put ourselves out there, afraid to trust that we have what we need within ourselves, put there by God. How different would the world be if we agree to move in the way that God is asking us to move?

Memorial Service

Today we went to the memorial service for Scott's youth minister at the Congregational Church in our town. The church was full to overflowing, and the service was lovely and moving. Howie was a Young Life staffer, and had been in ministry for decades. At one point, his wife asked people to stand in accordance with how they knew Howie: as a family member? As a Young Life leader? As a teacher? As a ministry colleague? It was remarkable thing to see.
As I sat there listening to this man's life being told, I had a lot to think about. I wondered if I lived enough great stories for people to tell about me after I die. I wondered if it was a mistake to never have had children. I wondered if I was doing enough in my ministry that people would be able to say "she taught me about God."
The structure of the service was interesting- it was over two hours long but despite the fact that I was SO hungry throughout, since I had neglected to have lunch, it was thoroughly lovely and inspiring. I had only met Howie a few times, but I know the influence he's had on Scott. During the prayer part of the service, we were invited to turn to God with our thanks for bringing Howie into our lives, and I thanked God for Howie because without his encouragement of Scott to go into ministry, I guessed I never would have met him. How about that? Howie, I'm sure, never thought "hey I made that marriage possible!" He never knew the influence he had on me, a person he'd barely met.
In all, the service made me want to be a better person, a better minister, a better Christian. I want to be the kind of person who has a memorial service that inspires people to be better.