Remind Me ...

... to never again fold 600 letters by hand! *chuckle*

I'm now using a partial hunt-and-peck method to type because my poor thumb is so sore. And I hate hunt-and-peck. But it's all in a good cause.

The letters were sent out to all area churches today for the"Shelter from the Storm" Hurricane Rita anniversary event. We're heading down to the final days of preparation. Here's hoping that everything falls into place and goes as planned. I'm hitting that panic-point which is par for the course for me. Pray for those of us who are putting this together!

... to always take time, no matter how nutty the world gets, to play Bunko with friends.

There's a wonderful group of ladies who get together monthly for dinner and a friendly game of Bunko. I'd never heard of Bunko until I came to Beaumont, but it's a simple game and doesn't tax one's mental resources. (which is good for me on Mondays, when I'm basically a useless human being) I only play as a substitute, and truly enjoy the opportunities I've had to join in the fun.

What's wonderful about this group is that they care about each other and simply enjoy spending time together. Usually there're at least one or two hiliarious moments leading to some good belly laughs. Since Mondays are my Sabbath, this is a blessing and quite an opportunity for re-creation!

... that although much has changed, other things have remained the same.

I have family and friends (both long-time and brand new) who are supportive in so many ways. I continue to be encouraged to move outside of my comfort zone and try new things (sometimes kicking and screaming, sometimes ending up in the midst of them without really being certain how I got there, sometimes even jumping into them enthusiastically). My furred friend Penny still greets me at the door, while my PsychoKat continues to drive my Mom crazy as she tries to make her bed!

I continue to love my chosen profession (hmmmm....profession chosen for me?). The people I work with are uplifting and make me smile. In the midst of things that aren't normal, so much that is good continues to happen.

... that I am richly blessed and have much to be thankful for!

A Telethon Curmudgeon

Call me a curmudgeon. I totally dislike the Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon.

It's not the cause which is the problem, even though I've decided to give my funds elsewhere. People with Muscular Dystrophy truly are deserving of such devoted support. I do know that each year the researchers get closer and that's a good thing.

I think my problem is two-fold.

First, I got burned out when I had to work the freaking telethon year after year at the skating rink, and, of course, the tv was turned to the telethon. Inane (well, what do you expect from Jerry Lewis?), repetitious, and the hyped up announcements of the amounts pledged every so many minutes.........don't get me started!!

Second, and this one is the bigger one for me now, there are so many other diseases/disabilities out there which are deserving of equivalent treatment. Yet they don't get the same amount of airtime, visibility, support that MDA does. Of course, if they did, we'd be having a telethon every weekend and compassion fatigue would turn the money fountain to a leaky faucet.

I realize that the MDA telethon has become a Labor Day staple, and probably won't be dislodged unless some miracle brings about a complete cure for those suffering with Muscular Dystrophy. So I guess I'll just have to continue to be a grumpy curmudgeon on Labor Day weekend ... and, of course, boycott the show.

Yet, wouldn't it be something of wonder if Jerry Lewis would lend his name and gravitas to supporting a different disease/disability each year, to open up the hearts of people to the needs of other equally deserving victims?

Hurricane Days

All right, already! It's been almost a year now. You'd think it'd be easy to just get back to "normal" and let go of the effects of Her Horribleness. It should be ... shouldn't it?

Maybe. .................................... Well, not necessarily.

The thing is, we're facing an anniversary date this month: the day that Hurricane Rita came through and knocked Southeast Texas silly. Anniversary dates of traumatic events are strange creatures. For some people, they are non-events. For others, the opposite occurs and it is almost as though the experience happened yesterday. And still others find themselves somewhere in the middle.

Her Horribleness displaced thousands of us in so many different ways, and turned many lives upside down. I'm still not home, and maybe that's not a bad thing (although I really want to get back home). For those whose homes have been repaired, it is a bit easier to slip back into "everything's normal" mode and not see the homes and businesses that are still awaiting repair or may never be repaired, not see all of the blue (and brown and black) tarps still covering roofs with gaping holes in them, not be aware of the upheaval in lives that have been permanently changed.

There are still literally thousands of homes in Southeast Texas that haven't been fixed yet. The SETIO repair request list alone is over 1,000 names long. Some for lack of funds. Others just waiting in line for the next available (fill in the repair type needed).

And broken houses are not the only type of displacement people are experiencing. Individual situations have changed significantly for so many, and it can be difficult to adapt to the necessary changes. They are disorienting, especially when one has had to leave a beloved familiar place or move forward without a loved one in one's life.

I've recently experienced what I've decided to call "hurricane days". Earlier this week, I found myself feeling, oh!, I guess stuck is a good word for it. There were things I knew I needed to do, and I could even think of the steps I needed to take to accomplish them, but I couldn't for the life of me manage to get my brain out of park and actually do any of them. It was as though I were disconnected, mind from body.

What a relief it was to pick up a resource on anniversary date reactions and discover that what I was experiencing was not unexpected! Here's what one study had to say: "It takes much longer than a few months to truly begin to make peace with the past and turn to the future. In their study of loss and mourning, Zunin and Zunin (1991) found that the lives of the bereaved may still be strongly affected a year and a half to three years later."

Other things people might be experiencing about now: (a) memories, dreams, thoughts and feelings that are vivid with some possibly seeming as though they happened yesterday; (b) grief, sadness, and regret (In fact, some people may have been so involved with the practicalities of recovery and rebuilding that they may not have had time to grieve themselves); (c) fear, anxiety, and stress may return (How many of us began to feel a bit tense when the early projections for Ernesto put him headed toward us as a pretty strong storm?); (d) avoidance - Oh! It's just another day. (Nothing inherently wrong in that. It's useful to be aware, though, that others may not have the same type of reaction.); and (e) reflection - taking a look at what's happened and incorporating it into our lives.

We all go through this process of incorporating significant, yes - traumatic, change into our lives in different ways. As we walk through the days ahead, perhaps it would be wise to be aware of how those we encounter may have been impacted by this life-changing storm and honor the ways each of us react to this signficant date in our lives.

I know that I'm going to be a bit more aware of what's happening in my own life, and labeling it for others, as necessary. So, if you see me just sitting there, speaking randomly disconnected thoughts, all I ask is that you treat me gently. "Hurricane days" are hell.

Anniversary of a Disaster

Good grief! It's been a whole week since I've posted here. Really didn't mean to let things slip by, but it's been a busy and intense week. "Shelter from the Storm" planning has kicked into high gear, with the anniversary of Her Horribleness being only a few weeks away. Fair warning - I'll probably only be posting here sporadically until after September 24th.

Besides preparing for this special commemoration, I've become aware of some 'anniversary reactions' happening as well. No, not directly connected with Rita stuff, although that's mulling around in the mix too. Labor Day weekend continues to be an anniversary date for me even 20 years down the road from the event. It's usually in hindsight a week or so after Labor Day that I realize what's been happening to me, so there's at least some progress being made this year! Maybe it's because I've been reading about disaster anniversary reactions in conjunction with preparation for the anniversary of Rita (yes, I really do have to recognize that we're coming up on one year after, and I truly can say that name if I have to.).

One of my biggest anniversary reactions has always been that I feel numb, wrapped up in cotton and completely unable to feel anything. Along with that comes difficulty in processing information. For example, it usually takes me 10-15 minutes to work the end of the week crosswords. Around anniversary time, the clues almost become incomprehensible letters on the page and I have to scrounge the internet for answers to things I usually know without thinking.

The good news is that, as time has gone by, the intensity has weakened. I figure the same will hold true for recovery from Her Horribleness. And even that may lessen quicker once I get back into my home (anticipated return date? Sometime before the beginning of the next millennium. *sigh*). It was encouraging to read that what I have been experiencing is not to be unexpected in this still abnormal situation.

The reality is that I have not truly mourned yet. I've been really good at distracting myself with the all too real and necessary business of putting things back together, helping others (it is part of the job description, you know), and working on addressing the communal needs I see (at some level part of the job description, at another an expression of frustration and anger - actually a "normal" part of the recovery process).

Working our way closer to this particular anniversary, I'm beginning to realize that I need to take care of myself, as well. Okay! Okay! I know! You've been telling me that for months now, and I've been nodding my head and saying, "Once 'x' is done, I'll _________ (fill in the blank - take a vacation, talk to a counselor, get a massage ...)". Problem is - I keep changing what 'x' will identify my capitulation point.

Please don't give up on me! I promise I'll get there and actually do something! Anniversaries of difficult situations are simultaneously the pits and the impetus, and not just for me. Maybe we oughta plan a group hug at our worship service? hmmmmmmm..... probably not a physical one, but we'll certainly aspire to a spiritual one, and that may be the best thing for both our recovering community and me.

Blessings

This week has had its fair share of frustrations, starting with a hard-drive crash and faulty reinstall. BLEAH!! I still don't have everything back on the beast, but obviously I'm at least back in action and online.

But this post isn't about the frustrations. It's about the blessings I've experienced this week, and there've been several that have come at moments when crawling into a hole and pulling it in after me was looking like a really good idea.

I've been working on a project which has had sort of a fluid and open membership on the planning committee. I don't have a problem with that. The flow of ideas has been truly enlightening and often helpful. However, we're getting down to decision-making time and the meeting scheduled for this week looked to be .... well .... complex might be a good word to describe it. On the meeting day, one of my members showed up to be 'moral support' as we wound our way through the issues. Afterwards, we had lunch together. What a blessing!!

I am also blessed with a truly wonderful Office Administrator. On Friday, while grousing about a comment made at another meeting I attended, she was able to identify the source of my perplexity and frustration. We're a good team, bouncing ideas off of each other and helping each other to complete our tasks better, while helping each other maintain our sanity (a necessity in this day and age).

The worship service for the anniversary of Her Horribleness' visit to Southeast Texas is beginning to fall into place! What a blessing to work with colleagues who share a vision of what this worship experience might be and how we might draw our community together!

Then I received a phone call from one of our youth members who has been out of town and was visiting for the day. What a blessing to have some time to visit and scarf down desserts! My heart was truly lightened and my spirits lifted.

As I was heading to meet over dessert, I received a phone call from another member inviting me to dinner and an evening listening to area choirs at St. Pius. Good company, wonderful food, excellent music (and an opportunity to locate some groups who we can invite to the 9/24 worship service, but that wasn't the intent of the evening). Blessings!

This was followed by a rather rousing game of 10,000. Well, games - we played for a couple of hours. My team won 8 games straight, even when I tried to lose so the other team could win. *chuckle* The other team claimed it was my partner's revenge for the skunking they gave him the night before. Who knows? But the evening was a good one, filled with fun.

Yep ... in the grand scheme of things, it's been a good week. Thanks for reminding me of who's in charge, God! Blessings upon blessings upon blessings!

Planetary Configurations

Oh, my! Have you looked at the front page of the Houston Chronicle today? Three ... count them! ... THREE!! new planets have been officially attached to our solar system. Don't know if this 'old dog' will be able to adjust the the new tricks on this one. *chuckle*

"Mother Very Thoughtfully Made a Jelly Sandwich Under No Protest" Well, there did come a point where my mom protested, and I'm not sure that making jelly sandwiches (yuck! what happened to the peanut butter?!) ever called for much thought. However, Mercury Venus Terra (and you thought it was called Earth?) Mars a (those assorted asteroids that wander around out there) Jupiter Saturn Uranus Neptune Pluto were much easier to put in the right order with that sentence around.

Way too many years have been spent under the influence of that mnemonic to be able to deal with a new one adding three new ones. Besides, adding Ceres where the letter "a" was just plain messes up the whole scheme!

Crossword puzzlers of the future will have a whole new clue to have to deal with once we've gotten used to the fact that the answer to "planets in the solar system" is twelve, not nine.

I'm curious, though. We've added a new one with the oddball name of 2003 UB313. I realize that this is a 'place holder' name until it's officially named. What I want to know is - will they be having a contest to name the critter? Or will it go to the highest bidder? Will we soon be adding Verizon or AOL or Google to our list of planets?

Please please PLEASE, members of the International Astronomical Union, I implore you. Don't let corporate greed get the better of you as you attempt to fund research for the future. Keep the poetry of your souls pure by naming poor 2003 UB something appropriately ethereal and classic and in keeping with the making of rubrics for us poor memory-impaired planet-bound peons.

hmmmmmmmmm...... Let's see. Mother Very Thoughtfully Made Countless Jelly Sandwiches Under No Protest, Carefully ________________. Any suggestions?

Holy Hilarity

A new minister is invited by two parishioners to go fishing. They're already out on the lake when one of the old-timers says, "Oh, I forgot my flies." The other old-timer groans, "just as I get started and the fish are biting." The new minister says, "Don't worry, I'll get them," steps out of the boat and walks across the water. "Look at that," says one old-timer to the other, "doesn't even know how to swim."

That was my joke to 'pass along' from Holy Hilarity Sunday. If you've read it, mission accomplished!

There are all sorts of reasons that I enjoy particular Sundays - celebrating the Lord's Supper or a Baptism or new members, Easter Sunday!!, the Sunday we sing our Christmas cantata, the annual Hymn Sing, and so on. One of the blessings of this congregation I serve is that they have been willing to try something a bit different - Holy Hilarity Sunday. I guess you might say they've humored me (pun not truly intended!), but there are definitely those who are fed by this Sunday filled with whimsey, me included.

I'm not completely sure where I first heard of Holy Hilarity (or Holy Humor or Bright Sunday), but the concept intrigued me: a Sunday celebrating God's "practical joke on the devil of raising Jesus from the dead". (from The Fellowship of Merry Christians on the celebration) Centuries ago it was originally celebrated on the Sunday after Easter. We take a humorous detour during the summer.

That doesn't mean we don't occasionally take a humorous detour during worship at other times. It just generally isn't as intentional then. I have been known to occasionally 'drink this bread and eat this cup' during Communion!

This Sunday, we reveled in one-liners; light-hearted hymns to old favorites like Pop! Goes the Weasel, She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain, and Good Night, Ladies; jokes shared; and a "Who's on First?"-type dialog about Mary and Martha. Our Youth led the congregation in energizers. Yes, we, the "Frozen Chosen", actually did get up and move during worship!

And now - a prescription from "Dr. Jesus the Christ":
A little boy was in a relative's wedding. As he was coming down the aisle, he would take two steps, stop, and turn to the crowd. While facing the crowd, he would put his hands up like claws and roar. So it went, step, step, ROAR, step, step, ROAR, all the way down the aisle. As you can imagine, the crowd was near tears from laughing so hard by the time he reached the pulpit. When asked what he was doing, the child sniffed and said, "I was being the Ring Bear."

Please be aware that "Substitution is permitted" and that this particular prescription can be renewed "as needed".

I'm reasonably sure that Jesus laughed. I'd be mighty upset if he didn't!

What a Week!

This has been a week which has laid heavy on my heart and soul. Oh! There's been some good stuff too. I won't deny that. However, it's been one of those times when the path forward hasn't been particularly direct.

Unless you've had your head in the sand, this week's worldly news has led to vehement discussions in the online forums I wander through. You know, sometimes we Presbys get pretty het up over the ordination of homosexuals, and the fur flies in those discussions. But I don't think I've ever seen one of those discussions get quite as vicious as things have been over Israel and Lebannon. *sigh* I simply don't understand people who want to twist what others say, then condemn them for it. I don't know if it's deliberate obtuseness or naive blindness. After a while, the whole thing becomes corrosive and not the least bit helpful toward furthering resolution.

Then came the uncovering of the plot to once again use commercial aircraft to commit mass mayhem and destruction of lives (which is a horror no matter whose lives are involved), and, just as destructive, to cause us to further erode our way of life and freedom in the interest of security. Any innocent lives taken by people who choose to use misinterpreted religious documents to 'validate' violence against others is reprehensible, as is even the planning of such a massacre. I'm very grateful to those in the intelligence community who uncovered the plot and stopped it before it could happen. Yet, if everyone packs their toothpaste in their checked luggage and tosses their soft drink bottles before boarding the plane, in time will we truly be safer? Or will we simply have given up a bit more of what makes us free in order to become more regimented like the ones who give their lives to such a fundamentalist version of Islam? I don't know. What I end up feeling is that I don't want to end up letting them 'win', even if it's only in their own minds.

This weekend I have a funeral to plan for a member of my congregation. He lived a long and full life, and in many respects, the funeral is a celebration of that life. At the same time, he shall be missed by many and balancing those farewells is sometimes like an intricate juggling performance.

Much time and energy have been expended on planning for the anniversary healing event and worship as we come up on the date Her Horribleness roared through the area. It's good work and we've good people working to make it happen. It's just that sometimes it feels as though one must slog through goop to get there. This has been a somewhat goopy week.

So, tonight I took a break and went to see the local stage production of Footloose. The movie is one of my favorite 'pastor movies', and the play was good. Each have their strengths. Over the course of the storyline, the pastor, Shaw Moore, learns something about himself and evolves as a result of his interaction with his daughter Ariel and the young catalyst Ren McCormack. In the play, the focus is on Shaw learning that his holding onto the past and his reaction to his son's untimely death is destroying his relationships with his daughter and his wife. Letting go of the past without forgetting is part of the healing needed for Shaw, his family, and the community.

In the movie, Shaw recognizes an even greater truth: that as a pastor, he is not personally responsible for the spiritual salvation of every person in the community. I absolutely love the scene at Sunday worship where Shaw stands in the pulpit dumbfounded and wrestling with this realization before telling the congregation that he's done them a disservice by not trusting them to grow in faith through their mistakes. He doesn't say he won't be with them as both the members and he himself stumble through life, but he does effectively say that it's time for him to trust God and that he will walk along with them as they begin to take on more responsibility for themselves - an important message for all clergy.

Trust God. You know, I do. Yet I also want to be in control and have everything work exactly as I envision it and get worn down when the world doesn't quite work that way. Don't worry. I'll get back on track soon. I usually do. Besides, it's Holy Hilarity Sunday - and I enjoy Holy Hilarity Sunday!

Plus, my car just turned brand new again - 100,000 miles and still chuggin along! WOOHOO! Guess it hasn't been all that bad a week after all.

Fingers Crossed

I'm sitting here with fingers crossed. Looks like repairs may finally be starting up again on my house. Things are definitely seeming possibly hopeful at any rate. (Does that sound the least bit iffy? I don't want to get too excited by the prospect. Would totally hate to have those hopes dashed! *chuckle*)

A week from tomorrow the a/c guy will be through to do the minor repairs needed because parts of the system had a close encounter of the third kind with my all too friendly tree. About a week after that I should have a drywall guy coming in to hide the visible studs and repair the cracks that were caused by the deflected forces from the tree clobbering the house.

This last one means I have to move into high gear on things like deciding what colors to paint the walls and what kind of carpet, and I get to go furniture shopping finally. Someone told me that this is an opportunity to make the house my own. They're right. Now I've just gotta figure out what that means for me. One thing I do know - it'll be a color other than pink or white.

At the rate things are going, I may actually get to move back into my house about a year since the last time I slept there. On September 19th, 2005, I left Beaumont to attend a meeting in Sacramento, California. When I left town, I didn't even know that there was a tropical storm wallowing around near Florida, and fully expected to be back in my own bed by that Sunday. No such luck!

Ah, well! Wouldn't it be wonderful if the repairs were done a year from the day I first left? We'll see!

Chris! Chris! Go Away!

(No - not you, Chris!)

WOOHOO!! Good sounding news from NOAA after the 6am CDT advisory!

CHRIS IS BECOMING DISORGANIZED IN A HURRY. SATELLITE IMAGES INDICATETHAT THE LOW-LEVEL CENTER HAS BECOME DETACHED FROM THE THUNDERSTORMACTIVITY DUE TO NORTHWESTERLY SHEAR ...

ASSUMING THAT THE ENTIRECIRCULATION HAS NOT BEEN SAMPLED...THE INITIAL INTENSITY ISADJUSTED TO 40 KNOTS... AND THIS IS VERY GENEROUS. I WAS TEMPTEDTO FORECAST WEAKENING AND EVEN DISSIPATION OVER THE NEXT FEWDAYS...BUT THE BEST OPTION AT THIS TIME IS TO KEEP THE CYCLONE ON ASTEADY STATE CONSIDERING THAT THE SHEAR COULD DECREASE...ASSUGGESTED BY THE SHIPS MODEL.

Now, I don't usually expect governmental advisories to have anything 'human-sounding' in them, but that first sentence struck me as kind of funny. Generally I would expect to read something like "Tropical Storm Chris is currrently becoming less organized in structure." You know, a bit more stuffy and, well, British sounding. (with apologies to my British friends)

The forecaster continues:

ACCORDING TO ALL GLOBALMODELS...A STRONG RIDGE IS EXPECTED TO REMAIN ANCHORED TO THE NORTHOF THE TROPICAL CYCLONE. THEREFORE...CHRIS...OR WHATEVER IS LEFT OFTHE SYSTEM...IS FORECAST TO CONTINUE WESTWARD ACROSS THESOUTHEASTERN BAHAMAS...VERY NEAR THE NORTH COAST OF CUBA ANDEVENTUALLY REACH THE SOUTH-CENTRAL GULF OF MEXICO IN FIVE DAYS. THEDILEMMA IS THE FUTURE INTENSITY OF THE CYCLONE. IT COULD WEAKENFURTHER AND DISSIPATE OR COULD REGAIN SOME STRENGTH. I AM IN FAVOROF WEAKENING.

SO AM I!

No matter! I'm just gleefully enjoying something which looks like good news (even if the forecaster decided to be cautiously optimistic instead of overly optimistic). WOOHOO!

On Being Clergy

Years ago, when the tv show Seventh Heaven first came into being, I watched it regularly. If you've not seen it, it's about a minister, his wife, and their (then) five children. The thing I truly appreciated about the show was that it portrayed something of what it's like to be involved in the ministry.

The family lives in the church manse. At the time, so did I. Occasionally the show had the 'church ladies' treating the manse like their own home - barging in and commenting on how this and that looked, and what their expectations were for the pastor's family - all of the traditional horror stories of pastors living in manses. Fortunately, that wasn't a problem for me. The congregation I was serving respected our privacy and only came over when invited, or upon calling in advance.

Watching the Rev. Camden deal with the various aspects and complications that arise when you're a pastor helped me to feel not so alone in a place where I was pretty isolated. And he wasn't presented as 'perfect pastor' either. Sometimes things got really screwed up! There was so much that I could identify with! (And no, I'm not saying that I was a perpetual screw-up. *chuckle* Although I did, and still do, make my fair share of mistakes.)

Then the show became the 'Camden kids' hour. From week to week, it was the travails of being PKs, with all of the possible horrific combination of things that any kid could get into represented. Admittedly, PKs sometimes appear to get into more trouble than other kids. The expectations that congregations put on them can be overwhelming, especially in small towns.

He may get miffed at me for blogging this, but, while we were in Oklahoma, my son decided that it was important for him to have his name taken off the church rolls. Unbeknownst to me, he was sort of coerced by one of the members into joining in the first place during our first year there. There came a point when he came to a session meeting, stated his position and why, then asked to have his name removed. Not much they could do besides honor his request. I applauded his integrity, and was thrilled that he felt secure enough to take that step. (ok - end of side-track)

Because the show began spending more time on the kids instead of the ministry, I watched, but nowhere near regularly. Then came this year. It was supposed to be the last year of the show with the merger of the WB and UPN, so they were trying to wrap up several storylines.

One of the (more unbelieveable) storylines was that of one of the Camden daughters becoming a minister in her father's church; however, it did bring the show back into some focus on what it's like to be clergy. Watching reruns tonight, I was caught up by the issue of confidentiality which Lucy was trying to honor, while everyone else, INCLUDING her minister father, was trying to find out 'what she was up to'. ARGH!! Ok - ridiculous storyline. But it did bring up the issue of clergy confidenialty and how it functions in a clergy family.

Being a single parent, it wasn't a big problem for me. My son wasn't particularly interested, and certainly wasn't nosy enough to have to know everything that was going on in the church. Yet I wonder how I would deal with it if I were married or in a relationship. Every pastor needs a safe place to vent sometimes, and I have my support system in place (and anything discussed is in terms of hypotheticals, no names, some details changed to protect the innocent and so on). But the dynamics change when there's a spouse or significant other in the picture. I suspect most members expect their pastor shares things with their spouse (but not a significant other) from time to time.

Here's the thing for me, though. If I were to accept information in confidence (and it wasn't something I was legally obligated to report to appropriate authorities), I would feel the need to keep that information to myself. As things stand right now, I can spill the beans all I want to the dog. She's not telling - and is great at commiserating whenever I need a companion. Those puppy-dog eyes speak volumes! Guess I'll just have to believe that I'll be able to maintain my integrity if I should ever get married again, and trust that whoever I marry will be secure and supportive enough to be a part of my life without knowing everything that happens in my work life.

I'll be interested to see how this particular storyline plays out on Seventh Heaven. I don't think I've seen the next couple of episodes, so I haven't a clue as to what will happen next. 'Til then, I'll just have to wonder and imagine.

Idle Musings

Wow! It's almost the end of July, two months into the Atlantic basin hurricane season, and there's only been two named storms and not even an actual hurricane yet! Now, I've been an avid hurricane tracker over the years, even when I wasn't living anywhere near the coast, and can't recall a year during that time quite like this. I could easily be mistaken, of course, since I haven't kept detailed records from year to year.

If I'm right, though, I wonder if there has been a recorded hurricane season with a start similar to this one. It would be interesting to know how that hurricane season turned out. I realize that hurricanes and, thus hurricane seasons, are fairly unpredictable. They tend to have a mind of their own, evidenced by the fact that I was 100% certain that Her Horribleness wasn't headed to Beaumont because the barometric pressure hovering over the area was too high. Fooled me! Still, I wouldn't mind learning to see if there's a similar hurricane season in history and what it looked like. I just don't have the time to dig through the record books to find out.

On a totally different note, my mind has been doing some rambling about things happening in the Middle East. Last night, I was finally reading last week's Newsweek and was reading the article, The Hand That Feeds the Fire, by Christopher Dickey, Kevin Peraino, and Babak Dehghanpisheh on Iran's influence in the situation when I came to this paragraph:

The trouble is, anger against the Israelis is almost certain to grow even faster than against Hizbullah. Many Lebanese owe a great deal to Hizbullah's clinics, schools and other basic social services in the areas it dominates -- underwritten, of course, by hundreds of millions of dollars from Iran. ...

As I read that, suddenly I kind of remembered reading something similar about the time that Hamas made a huge gain in control over the Palestinian government. Sorry I can't remember precisely where I saw it. I do remember it was in either of the two newspapers I get or Newsweek. What I remember is that in all the furor over the shift to a terrorist group being in control over what was already a delicate situation, someone noted that many Palestinians voted in favor of Hamas candidates because they could be counted on to follow through in assisting them to meet their basic needs (clinics, schools, etc.).

Um........ Doesn't that sound like what Christians are supposed to be doing?

I wonder how things might have gone differently if the world had arrived with engineers and construction equipment, physicians and nurses and medical supplies, teachers and books, instead of military force and materiel. Guess I'm just an idealist at heart. Maybe someday we'll get there, but I'm not counting on it in my lifetime. *sigh*

Well, it's time to face the world again. Much to do. Little time to do it. 'Til later!

Sum- mer- time ...

and the livin' is --------Hot. Humid. Sweltering. Ennervating. Mind-numbing. Life-sapping. Soul-sucking. Did I mention HOT!?

Truth is, I happen to be a bit of a hothouse plant and am not generally in favor of temperatures approaching the freezing point of the blood in my veins, except during the summer. The weathercasters around here claim it's only been in the mid-nineties. Bank clocks tell the true tale. Today I saw one that said it was 103, and it felt hotter.

I've lived in and visited places where summer temps routinely hover around 110 ... 111 ... 112, in the shade. In Oklahoma, the wind would even quit blowing 'cause it was too much work. And if a bit of a breeze did decide to mosey through, all it would do is rearrange the heat molecules, stirring them to even greater heights - or at least it felt that way.

But I always seem to forget about the nature of Southeast Texas summers until I'm in the midst of one. It's hard to ignore 100 degree temperatures with 100% humidity, and no rain. Even the air is too heavy to move through.

This afternoon I went to the front door, opened it, and was hit in the face by an oven on low broil. Immediately deciding it was too hot to do anything more than slouch back to the chair and vegetate, I capitulated and let the heat and humidity win. Even the a/c wasn't making a lot of headway with the heat.

So now I"m in 'sloth mode', rapidly approaching the speed of a slow loris. I did manage to get my fingers on this Big Chief tablet without getting out of the chair. Even managed to scrawl a few lines on it. Don't know when I'll manage to make it to the computer and blog this. It's too darned hot!

[Finally! After the heat let up, it was time to work, and I'm only now getting home and online. It's Sunday instead of Saturday. The temperature is a breezy 76 degrees with a slight rain falling. Ahhhhhhhh! Bliss!]

FINE

Fine. Your basic multi-purpose word.

"How're you doing?" "Fine."

Upon capitulating in a minor spat, "Fine! *mildly sarcastically* Have it your way!"

"WOOHOO! You look fiiii-ine in that outfit."

Fine - what you pay the court when you overpark at the meter.

When looking at any contract, of course, you need to get out a magnifying glass to read the fine print.

Fine - interesting adjective, as in Ollie's perpetual comment to Stan, "What a fine mess you've gotten us into this time!"

Then there's this one, which I learned about while working in a chemical dependency treatment program: F.I.N.E. I won't give you the original version, but the staff posited that when someone responded "I'm fine" to "How're you doing?", what they were really saying was:

I'm Fouled-up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Exhausted. (F.I.N.E.!)

Since learning THAT definition, I've been very careful to not answer "How are you?" with "Fine." *chuckle*

Certainly since Her Horribleness came through town, at least 3 of the 4 have been right on target, though. I'm not going to tell you which 3, since they change from day to day with one exception: Exhausted.

There is something just plain exhausting about not living in your own intact home (very grateful for the gift of the place where I am living, but it's not home), about finding the energy to deal with getting repairs done, about telling and hearing 'storm stories' - some much more harrowing than anything I've had to live with, about accomplishing those things which are essential and that I truly want to do from the depth of my heart.

Intellectually, I realize that this is what is to be expected at this time. It just frustrates the heck out of me that it takes so long to regain my energy and enthusiasm after I do whatever the next thing on my list is. I tend to be an introvert. Nothing wrong with that for a pastor. It just means that I need solitude to recharge my batteries from time to time. Generally, this is not a problem; however, hurricane recovery is an extraordinary event.

Guess it's time to take my own advice and be gentle with myself. Excuse me, please. I think I'm going to go and hide .... er .... find a quiet place and talk with God for a while. Catch up with you later!

Lament

Sing loud a dirge to the folly of humanity.
The dead and the dying scream out in mortal agony.
Black smoke arises from the ashes of our enmity.
Lament.

Soldiers march to the tune of madman's drone.
Sabers twisted into atomed-missile's cone.
Threatened cloud chills deeply to the bone.
Lament.

Loving husband cries at wifely pain.
Cancer gnaws away at hope again.
Bankrupt dreams wrapt in bureaucratic chains.
Lament.

Why, oh why? do they answer hatred's call?
Why, oh why? walk the brink of deadly pall?
Why, oh why? is there no dignity for all?
Lament.

Space ...... the Final Frontier

My Dad worked for NASA, and I've been hooked on science fiction since intermediate school when Madeleine L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time crossed my path. Star Trek: The Original Series was a common ground in my household, one of the few tv shows I enjoyed (and it was really 'out there' at the time), which my Dad also enjoyed.

Dad couldn't wait until the day when he could say, "Computer" and the machine would answer, "Working, working, working"! *chuckle* This from a mathematician/physicist who worked for NASA, but refused to use anything but a slide rule and mechanical pencil and paper throughout his entire career. Of course, in his own contrarian way, he insisted on getting his daughter and son the most up-to-date calculators he could afford, and talked me into minoring in computer science (an exercise in futility if ever there was one! Computers and I speak totally different languages!).

I still remember watching each of the launches with excitement and trepidation. Dad usually spent them out at Johnson Space Center, just in case something went wrong and he was needed for problem-solving. The only movie he ever watched that had to do with NASA was Tom Hanks' Apollo 13, which he said gave a reasonably accurate description of the flight and how they went about getting the crew back. He retired about the time the shuttle was being developed, as much because of his disagreement with the direction the shuttle was taking as with the retirement incentives (and serious dis-incentives for hanging in there) NASA began offering at the time.

And, I still look forward to the day when there will be commercial flights to a colony on the moon. I have a feeling that Dad would have enjoyed a trip to the moon, too. So, I keep track of the shuttle flights, and what's up with the space station, but, like so many of us, not as much as I used to. Have we/I gotten somewhat complacent, even with the danger of a new frontier which still exists? Have we started backing off of the excitement and potential of exploring the unknown of space up close and personal? I certainly hope not.

Space........... the Final Frontier. Anyone need a chaplain for the first moonbase?!

Reader's Block

Fuss and bother! This summer I'd decided to read Gordon R. Dickson's "Childe Cycle" through from start to finish, at any rate, to the last book he wrote (he died before he finished the science fiction cycle). I own all of them, so no problem, right? Wrong!

As best I can figure, Tactics of Mistake has gone AWOL .... or Her Horribleness sopped it to oblivion ... *sigh* It's a distinct possibility that in the random quick cleanup to get anything soaking-wet out of my house, the crew had to pick it up and toss it. I don't know. Therefore, Reader's Block! The local library doesn't have it listed either. So now I have to find a copy somewhere and buy it.

OK - so you don't have to read them in order. They function quite nicely in stand-alone fashion. However, I've never read them straight through before and wanted to see what I might glean from following the author through from the beginning, watch his characters and idea unfold as he created it.

Characters are fascinating things, especially in the hands of a good writer. One of my favorites is Rod Gallowglass (nee Rodney D'Armand) by Christopher Stasheff. He (Rod) has wormed his way into my heart and I would marry him in a flash ... except he's so besotted by his beloved Gwendylon that it would be a betrayal of his essential character to consider life with any other woman. Alas! But I wouldn't have his character be any other way!

It is the guiding of the writer's muse to bring characters and ideas into being and then attempt to capture them authentically in 'mere' words.. Sometimes I suspect they say and do things that the author had no original intention of them doing, but then finds they would be dishonest if they said and did anything else.

This is not my gift, but I deeply enjoy stepping into the worlds created by those whose gift it is. I occasionally wonder if it's anything similar to what I feel when crafting a sermon or worship, or leading a meeting where we are seeking solutions to old problems, or those times when one steps into a situation which requires counseling and diplomacy, or those moments which transcend all of time and humanity. It's hard to put into words. The best I can come up with is that I am not the guiding force in my responses and actions. I am not alone, and there is that which is Other which is there to help. (Sounds like I need to see a psychiatrist, doesn't it?) Yet at the same time, that which is the essential me is in control.

Wow! That was a major detour! Sometimes stream-of-consciousness blogging wanders in some interesting places! Guess I'd better bring this to a close and toddle off to Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble to see if I can find Tactics. Gotta do something to get rid of this Reader's Block!

Racism

Over on Myspace, I received this post from a friend of mine: (my guess is that someone sent it to her)

You call me "Cracker", "Honkey", "Whitey" and you think it's OK.And we let you with no huge fuss about it.

But when I call you Kike, Towelhead, WOP, Sand-nigger, Camel Jockey, Gook, beaner, wet-back, nigger or Chink, or BLACKIE you call me a racist.

You have the United Negro College Fund. You have Martin Luther King Day. You have Black History Month. You have Cesar Chavez Day.Y ou have Yom Hashoah You have Ma'uled Al-Nabi You have the NAACP.Y ou have BET.

If we had WET(white entertainment television) ...we'd be racists. If we had a White Pride Day... you would call us racists.If we had white history month... we'd be racists. If we had an organization for only whites to "advance" our lives... we'd be racists. If we had a college fund that only gave white students scholarships...you know we'd be racists. In the Million Man March, you believed that you were marching for your race and rights. If we marched for our race and rights...you would call us racists.

Did you know that some high school students decided to make a club for only the white students because the other ethnicities had them... they all got sent to court for being rasist but the african-american, latino, and asian clubs were not even questioned. You are proud to be black, brown, yellow and orange, and you're not afraid to announce it. But when we announce our white pride, you call us racists. Why is it that only whites can be racists?

Like a quote from the musical "Avenue Q":"Bigotry has never been exclusively white"Think about that next time that you want to put someone on the stand for any kind of racism, especially "white supremacy". Repost if you agree. Now watch, I'll be a racist for posting this

Here is my reply:

You, personally, racist? Well, that has as much to do with how you treat and talk with people of other races as anything, and I've not seen you base your interactions with others on their skin-color or religious background.

That said, we all have room for improvement. It's very difficult to come at this issue from the 'majority' culture, as you and I do. We carry a world-experience which tends to be quite different from those of minority cultures.

Part of what helps in understanding this is finding yourself in the minority, as I have as a female clergyperson. It has been an enlightening and absolutely infuriating experience to be with male clergy colleagues and have them (1) assume that I will take on the 'traditional' role of secretary/social director and (2) listen to a recommendation I've made, quash it or the language used to describe it, argue my point for Lord only knows how long, only to have them adopt MY idea and MY language (only slightly rearranged), and consider it theirs.

This is a microcosm of what our minority cultures go through regularly. No matter how you look at it, while, for example, there is a Black History Month, the rest of the year presents history mostly through white eyes. And there isn't even a Native American or Asian American or Hispanic American 'anything' of any significance, yet there are people from each of these cultures who have contributed significantly and positively to our heritage. And in a country which prides itself on religious freedom (or freedom to not practice any religion at all), religious epithets and slights are uncalled for.

True, individuals within the various minority cultures must deal with their own racism against the majority culture and even within the variations of THEIR OWN cultures. However, to use stereotypes to broadly condemn all just plain isn't fair.

This piece is essentially a complaint against minority cultures for using stereotypes to malign the majority culture, so is it fair to use the same tactics against individuals of the minority cultures?

In my experience on the Presbyterian Church's Committee on Representation, I've learned much about the richness of our culture which is precisely due to the people of various races and backgrounds. The people I've had interactions with, regardless of racial/ethnic heritage, acknowledge that racism still exists - on BOTH sides of the equation. We have spent time exploring how we experience each others' cultures and how to better understand and work to resolve our differences.

Please take a step back and look at the entire picture instead of only focusing on the immediate sense of injustice caused by people who themselves are wearing blinders. Racism will never be eliminated if we continue to justify our own acts of racism by pointing out the racism of others. Our world would be a much better place if we would take the time to learn and understand more about each other.

Guilty Pleasure

I confess! I"m hooked! So You Think You Can Dance has sucked me in ... again.

Now, I don't like the auditions part, and I don't like them going back and showing more of the auditions at the start of each show. I know they have to do auditions to narrow the field and weed out the ones who obviously don't have what it takes (or are doing it on a dare, or believe they are talented but haven't a lick of rhythm in their soul, or are so nervous that, well, let's not think of how their stomaches react to the tension). Showing the ones who didn't make it each week is just painful to watch, for me, and I know the judges in general try to be compassionate, but it's not an easy task. Personally, I'd be lots happier with the show if they just cut out that time and cut to the chase. (ok - rant over)

What I like about the show is watching the different, widely ranging, dance styles: Latin, hip-hop, ballroom, contemporary, jazz, disco, swing. The dancers are paired up and draw their dance from a hat each week. The audience gets to see snippets of each session where the dancers learn the choreography, usually the fairly inept parts of the lesson. Sometimes they are able to dance to their strengths; at others, they haven't the foggiest of what they're doing. I am always intrigued to see how well it comes together, not always perfect, but that's why it's a competition.

Oddly enough, I usually don't watch the show where they announce who stays and who's been voted off (or maybe not so oddly, considering how much I dislike the audition portion). I'll watch the last one where they announce the winner, of course.

What I'd really like to do is learn some of those dances someday, especially the ballroom, Latin, and swing (the jury's out on disco, but it's not beyond the realm of possibility). Not looking to compete or anything like that. I just like to dance and wish I knew what I was doing!

Freedom

... Is Not Free. That's the t-shirt my mom gave me today. The shirt's right, you know. It has cost much in the lives of those who originally waged revolution for our freedom from the British Empire through all of those who have given their lives, limbs, and livelihoods today. I hold in high regard those who are willing to give up a portion of their liberty to serve to protect those hard-won freedoms outlined in the Bill of Rights.

My brother is currently back on active duty in Kosovo, and has served in the military on active duty and the National Guard since he entered Westpoint in 1977. He and I operate from a different perspective on many things (especially in the religious arena); however, he has served this country and defended our freedom with integrity, as have so many others.

Freedom is not free. Yet it is amazing to me how many people are willing to give away their freedoms in the interest of personal security and safety. "Sure - go ahead and monitor my phone calls, read my emails, take a look at my library list and finances, tell my newspapers and magazines and tv reporters just precisely how far they can question our government! I'll cover my ears and sing la-la-la-la while you do it. Just keep me and my family safe!" Bah humbug! There is no such thing as perfect safety. It simply can't be done. Until that day when all evilness is eliminated from humanity, it ain't a-gonna happen.

Our military folk do a fine job on our behalf. Their work is important. There are many others whose work is equally important, the ones who are willing to poke their noses into those dark places where our government would prefer we not tread, who walk into courtrooms on behalf of citizens and non-citizens whose basic freedoms are being squelched, who have the audacity to work for peace, who seek "liberty and justice for all" in spite of the personal difficulties and hardships they endure, and who in even the littlest of ways continue to strive for the incredible vision started 230 years ago.

So on this Independence Day, I want to say 'Thank You!' to all of the people who give of themselves to ensure that we don't walk into the pages of Orwell's 1984 or Bradbury's Farenheit 451, who insist upon learning and thinking for themselves about the consequences of this freedom which has been so dearly won, and acting with honor and integrity that we may remain free.

Thank You! Thank You!

Playing the Rest

The other day while reading the Rev. Thom Shuman's "Occasional Sightings of the Gospel", I came across an interesting concept: playing the rest. In music, it's not only the notes and rhythms that are important, but also the silence of the rests. The gentleman in Thom's story taught the VBS kids (and adults) to "play the rest" by raising their arms to signify the silence. Thom then suggested that when Jesus went out into the wilderness or mountains, he was 'playing the rests'.

Silence. Those moments when there is nothing but space, the direction is unclear. You know something will happen at some point, but aren't completely sure when it will happen or what it will even be. It's kind of an odd feeling when you're in the midst of it.

It's funny, though. Even the silence is not truly silent. Turn off all the appliances and you still hear bugs buzzing, the breeze blowing, cars zipping past, people banging on roofs (the computer humming *chuckle*).

Once I had the opportunity to visit an anechoic chamber. It's a room that is so completely soundproofed that no noise from outside can enter in, and no noise made within the room echoes or reverberates. Noise is sounded, then immediately dies. The tour guide had us sit perfectly still, turned off the lights, then had us sit in the silence. Perfect silence. ... or so it seemed.

Yet even in a room where no noise lives for any length of time, where its inhabitants were deliberately maintaining silence, it soon became apparent that we could not escape noise. We carried within us the sound which could be heard even in the silence - the sound of a heart beating rhythmically. lub-dub ... lub-dub ... lub-dub ...

I still haven't completely figured out why these two images keep coming to mind - playing the rest and the anechoic chamber. Somehow they're inextricably intertwined, a faith statement. Even in the midst of a rest, in the depth of complete silence, we are not alone. Surrounding us are reminders of the One who brought us into being. Maybe these two images come together because even when 'playing the rest', there is constant beneath it a rhythm which one cannot escape. hmmmmmm..... Have to do some more thinking about that.

A Time to Every Purpose

Perspective. Sometimes one must step back and discern what's most important about a particular goal. That's what I ended up doing about plans for a community worship service as we recover from Her Horribleness.

What I really wanted to do was some kind of service right now! And then something on the anniversary date of the storm. The first would be a support as we deal with the free-floating anxiety that's hanging in the air while we await what is to happen this hurricane season. The second to be present for the very real issues which will be popping up big time around 9/24.

The reality is that we just plain can't pull together two huge worship services so close together, so we had to decide which was more important. September 24th wins hands down!

Anniversary dates bring out all sorts of feelings and one of the best things the faith community can do is provide a venue for healing and expressing the very real depths of pain and loss that Golden Trianglers will be experiencing. Everyone has anniversary dates (and not just the generally good ones of weddings and birthdays). I know I tend to become numb and wrapped in cotton emotionally around a couple of my own significant anniversary dates. Others have different reactions.

September 24 is going to be especially difficult for those who still aren't in restored homes, or those who lost loved ones as a result of the storm (even if the loss occurred later), or those who stayed during the storm and experienced first-hand its power, fury, and devastation. Even people who think they haven't been affected sharply by the storm will probably find themselves dealing with anxieties and concerns about then.

So ........... We're focusing on how best to help our community as the fateful date approaches. We've a theme - Shelter from the Storm: A Service for Healing and Wholeness. First task - Identify where to hold it. We're going to see if we can get Ford Park Arena. What an appropriate symbolic location! Once we get the place set, we'll be working to get as many in the faith community as possible involved.

Keep us in your prayers! We've a lot to accomplish and a relatively short time to do it. There is a rightness about this. I trust that God will bring this to fruition - a time to every purpose - to mourn, to share our fears and anxieties, to gather for comfort and support, to encourage each other, to celebrate how far we've come in one year and to acknowledge just how far we have yet to go, ... to worship together across all boundaries. Yep! I think we can do this!

Castles in the Clouds

I watch the lazy breezes
Building castles in the clouds.
Their turrets rise before me
With their flags a-snapping loud.

The drawbridge lowers slowly.
Mighty armies thunder forth.
Their banners rainbow-colored,
Waving high above the Earth.

The battle plan is ordered
By the captain on his steed.
With a sudden flash of lightning
Clashing legions will he lead.

As the battle rages onward
Mighty winds begin to blow.
I fear my cloud-wrought castles
Will soon fall and be brought low.

Then silence tames the chaos
And the armies slip away.
Lazy breezes dance among the clouds.
They won the game they played.

Return from OZ

Part 1

For the past ten days (followed by one day dealing with a nasty computer virus ack! ack! ptooey!), I've been living in that earthly otherworld known as General Assembly. It was as though we'd walked through the door of a huge anechoic chamber and the only outside 'noise' was what we brought inside with us. In the silence, after a few minutes, we could hear our heartbeat. Friends, the PC(USA) has an arrhythmia.

As you know, most of us have some kind of arrhythmia. Some are harmful, some aren't. I'm not sure of the status of this one. Truth is, when I came back to the 'real' world, I experienced a major cognitive dissonance and am trying to sort through it. So this will probably be a real ramble, and if you aren't into Presbyterian politics, my feelings won't be hurt one bit if you decide to wander away about now.

Some of my disconnect may be the result of a combination of concurrent happenstances: our first biennial meeting (which means there was a huge amount of business to process, since we hadn't met for two years), implementation of a 'paperless' meeting (with an intranet computer system that wasn't functioning anywhere near reliably), and the presentation of the Peace, Unity, and Purity (PUP) report which has been five years in the making. This last one was the flashpoint of a controversy which has been brewing in the PC(USA) for years, and, while it is truly about many important and deep theological issues, was reduced in the minds of many to "shall the PC(USA) approve in any way, shape, or form the ordination of homosexuals?"

For some, the ordination of homosexuals is an abomination and the turning point of whether they and their congregation will stay within the denomination. They rattle their sabers and proclaim, "If you adopt this, we'll be forced to take our marbles and run elsewhere!" For others, the ordination of homosexuals is too long coming into being. They have been forced to remain second-class members of the denomination, welcomed as members, but without the privilege and responsibility of serving as ordained leaders in any capacity. They rattle their sabers and proclaim, "If you don't adopt this, we'll be forced to take our marbles and run elsewhere!" *sigh*

Actually, if one reads the portion of our Book of Order which is used to forbid the ordination of homosexuals (and singles who are sexually active and unrepentant spouse-abusers and alcoholics and ..... well, the list of things the Book of Confessions calls sin is a rather long one), as long as one is celibate (on the homosexuality thing), one may be ordained. I can't remember when this particular piece of the Book of Order was adopted, but it was sometime in the early 90's, so it's been around for a while.

The PUP report was developed through the work of dedicated Christians (who happen to be Presbyterians) of all theological stripes. It passed unanimously! Not a single person who worked on the task force was against the position taken by the report. They found a way to remain in community AND STILL HOLD SIGNIFICANT THEOLOGICAL DIFFERENCES!

The GA voted in favor of adopting the report 57% - 43%. Some of those in the 43% were commissioners who felt that, with the controversy bubbling around the report, we should either refer it to a later GA or send it back to the task force for more work. When the referral didn't pass, they voted disapproval. Others were deeply wounded and grieved by the acceptance of the report.

It was rumored that the original plan was to walk out of the Assembly if the PUP report was adopted. Don't know if it were true, but would not have been surprised if it had happened. God had to have been in the midst of this Assembly, because I heard that the walkout plans were changed due to the election of Joan Gray as Moderator - the more conservative members of the Assembly did not want to besmirch her tenure as Moderator, since her stated position is of being against the ordination of homosexuals.

Presbys believe that, when we gather to make decisions, we are to come together and listen to all perspectives, then through the guidance of the Holy Spirit, discern God's direction. What group of people ever listens perfectly? And who's to say that my position is actually the right one? (I had no vote, but fully believe that the 57% were hearing Christ's call to be inclusive.) That's why we seem so darned divisive and at each other's throats so much of the time. We allow for the diversity which brings us to keep plugging away at issues until we become certain 'the way be clear'. So, of course at our next GA, we'll be wrestling with this issue ... and the next ... and the next ... and the next ... (I kinda figure we won't get this one sorted out until after I'm long dead.)

So, now we wait and see what comes next. I'm figuring it won't be pretty, but hope that the Spirit which infused the Assembly gets carried over to the people in the pews.

I've a couple of other things which have been niggling at me; however, I have a Session meeting to moderate and must shift gears. Therefore, I'm going to post this part and deal with the other things when I get back. Later!

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Part 2

On to the next thing I want to think about: we have now taken a huge step backward in our policy on late-term abortion. The language has shifted toward the punitive and condemnatory. A rather conservative presbytery sent an overture to GA that completely negates the caring and pastoral work of the 2002 and 2003 GAs on this issue. I'll admit I'm missing a piece of what was finally adopted because someone managed to amend it to include a chunk of the 2003 GAs work which was more pastoral in nature, and the only persons to have the full text of that in front of them were the commissioners. It's not yet been sculpted into LES (the abysmally insufficient computer program).

This is the piece which really hit me hard. Part of the argument given was along the lines of 'well, you've had at least six months to take care of it, so if you didn't do it by then, then tough luck, sister!' OK - they didn't use precisely that language, but that was the way it came across. There is no softening language for those who might be victims of rape, or incest, or who must deal with the tragically difficult decision to abort a child with extremely severe birth defects. There is no sense of understanding how such a decision might not be able to be made earlier in a pregnancy. Sure, some of the wording includes "surround with a community of care". The basic purpose of the policy is along the lines of 'no matter what, the church is to affirm that that baby should be delivered alive'.

I know. That last sentence seems to say that I want death for the child. That's not truly where I'm going. Adoption would be the best option, I can't deny that. But I'm also not the woman who is in that situation, and I don't know what particular hell any particular woman faced with that decision is going through. All I know is that I'd want my pastor to be there with me, supportive of the situation, giving me all of the options, and walking with me through that choice without a hint of condemnation in the midst of it.

I've a friend who has a son who is about 35 now, who functions at the level of about a 6-9 month old. When he was born, the doctors gave him about six months. His parents are full-time caregivers and love him deeply. Their biggest fear is that this son should outlive both of them and be placed in institutional care. My friend has said that if the technology had existed to let them know what they would be facing, they would have made the difficult decision to abort this beloved child.

Why would anyone want to add an additional layer of pain to an already difficult situation? How can we, as church, be so quick to assume that this is a throw-away decision? I just don't understand it. Why are there those who want to exhibit some level of control over women, and assume that women are not able to make the 'right' decisions without their help, ... and then insist that the church endorse their definition of 'right? And, why, oh why, did we buy it and follow without examining the entire package more carefully? (well, I kind of know why - this was up for decision very late on the last night of decision-making, and came at the end of three hard-hitting days of huge decisions. There is an incredible amount of material to process at one of these things - I've been a commissioner before - and toward the end it becomes a fog as to what is actually being discussed and voted on. So, I'm not completely faulting the commissioners, but more the methods used to get this through.)

This one will be exceedingly difficult to recover from. I went back to my room that night and cried. This is one decision which I truly don't understand. Maybe it was a back-handed sop to the conservatives whose feelings were so hurt by the vote on the PUP report. I just don't know. Can you tell that I am wounded by this? What is it about sexuality and issues related to birth that seem to tie us so completely up in knots? Perhaps I'm just being dense. If so, would somebody enlighten me?

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Part 3

This is the last one, I promise.

It's hard to calculate how much time was spent on items related to the previous two posts, and other items of a similar nature. We've argued and nattered about feminine language for the Holy Trinity, where to store our historical documents and artifacts, whether or not to have non-geographic synods and presbyteries, who owns church property, where will we fund this and that project/proposal/idea, and other topics big and small.

I wonder what Jesus would have to say about us. True, we glancingly addressed some social justice issues, even spent time delving into the social witness of investment of the church's finances. There are some wonderful documents researched, prepared, and presented on things like usury, the imbalance of wealth, HIV/AIDS, peacemaking, living wages for migrant farm workers (specifically the Immokolees - we participated in a boycott of Taco Bell for about 3 years and, finally, growers have agreed to raise the price they pay their workers to something approaching a liveable wage), mining, and renewable resources. There were others, I just didn't spend time to go and dig their names up.

I truly don't want to give the impression that nothing good came from GA. That would be inaccurate. However, the things we gave the most weight to were probably NOT the things Jesus would have had us focus on. As I read scripture, Jesus would have been far more pissed about the way we treat each other than over whether we included an outsider in the inner circle. *sigh*

I think it would be an incredible experience to sit down at a GA and truly focus on a plan to address, say, poverty for five days (the amount of time spent in committee and then plenary). Just think of the good which could be accomplished if our 2.3 million member denomination decided to forgo the arguments over what kind of sinner could be ordained (we're all sinners after all) and narrowed in on ways to address the subsets which contribute to povery and commit to helping those living in poverty to overcome the obstacles they face. If you think about it, we Presbys are not a bunch of slackers when it comes to the income department. We've a fairly hefty percentage of our members who are not living anywhere near the poverty level.

Or what if we committed our human and financial resources to peacemaking? Do you think that 2.3 million Christians living out Jesus' call to "turn the other cheek", in whatever form would be best suited to a particular place and time, might have some significant impact in our increasingly violent and separatist world? What if God is calling us to be role-models on how to live according to Jesus' prayer that we might be one, as he and God are one (different in many ways, but together in unity). Whoa! Tough task! But, oh! how I pray that we might be able to accomplish it!

Somehow, with our position papers and policies, we miss out on the actual living out of our faith. I think that was the thing I came away with from this GA. We've got the i-dotting and t-crossing down pat. But Jesus wasn't an i-dotter or t-crosser! He told the rich young ruler (depending on translation) to sell all he had and give it to those who had not. He told his disciples (and I mean all of his followers by this term) that they had to give up their life to gain it, which at least partially means putting aside one's pride and plans to follow Jesus' plans as discerned through the work of the Holy Spirit. I don't think Jesus meant for us to spend all of our time writing position papers! It's the doing that was high on his agenda!

Now all I've gotta do is figure out what doing I'm called to be about. Oh! I'm not totally ignorant about that, and am going about it as best I am able. Guess I'm just a bit tired right now, and being impatient about the whole thing. I'd truly like it laid out in front of me step by step, so I can see the final destination RIGHT NOW! Blast it all! Sometimes I wish this faith business didn't depend so much on faith! *chuckle* In the grand scheme of things, I really do trust it will all work out, even the knotty spots. Just give me some time to take it all in and I'll be back to my positive (mostly) self again!

Happy Dance!!

WHEW! Mission accomplished, almost! And this saga has taken some very interesting twists and turns.

Here's the deal: As Moderator of the General Assembly Committee on Representation, I had to give this big deal report on the work of our committee, along with a team of three others. We've been working on this report for about a year, built on the parameters we were given at the outset. If you've been reading, it wasn't too long ago that they threw a seven-minute overview at us. Sooooooo....after some agonizing, I crafted a 5 minute piece on the work of our committee.

Get to the General Assembly, arrive at the committee meeting where our report will be presented, primed and ready for my 5-minute overview, to discover that the committee has changed the ground rules - no one who is not a member of the committee may speak for more than 3 minutes! Now, you could have more than one person present the overview, but neither could speak for more than 3 minutes. ARGH!! Quick thinking on my part, and the fact that I tend to work from manuscript anyway, led us to splitting the overview in half and one member of the group gave the first part, while I presented the second part. (Good thing I use BIG print!)

We survived round one.

The main committee splits into subcommittees, then we were to give our big report. Remember, we've been working on this thing for about a year. We get to the subcommittee and the moderator decides they aren't going to hear our report, and maybe we can present snippets, but not until they've looked at the outside statistical review of our committee's work.

These are open meetings, so, after a few panicked moments of trying to figure out how to salvage things, I went back inside and began listening to their discussion. It didn't take too long before the moderator relented and let us give our powerpoint presentation. Each of us chopped pieces here and there as we went along and managed to pare the 30 minute presentation down to about 20. That helped the committee and then we got asked a question: What resources would be helpful for your committee to fulfill it's work?

Based on the format we had been told to work from, we'd never dreamed we'd be asked this Christmas in June question, so, of course, we didn't have an answer! Blessings upon the moderator, though, for she had the presence of mind to suggest that we might want to think about it before responding. With permission to come back the next morning, we left to do some dreaming (literally! I asked the committee members present to sleep on it!).

This morning, we gathered in the lobby to do some brainstorming. After about an hour, inspiration struck: What if we got the General Assembly to declare 2007-2008 The Years of Diversity and asked for the resources to make it a whiz-bang affair?! Trekked back to the committee and they thought it was a cool idea, too, and included it in their recommendations. Such an idea has financial implications, so when the subcommittees got back together to develop their final report, the financial implications were a part of the discussion. Since many of the members of the committee did not feel that they could vote for additional expenditures in a time of tightened budgets in good conscience (and I truly couldn't fault them on this perspective at all), the recommendation was more or less decimated.

Truth is, we knew what we were asking was a wild hare longshot, especially as there would be money involved. Something our committee has wrestled with since I first became a member was the issue of visibility. The idea was out there, so how could we make at least a part of it happen? Especially since this would be the perfect GA to endorse the concept, seeing as we're meeting in Birmingham, Alabama, where the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church (one of the Civil Rights Movement National Register of Historic Places) is located.

Once the review committee had approved their report, they let our committee look it over and make comments. As we left the room to make our suggestions, the GA resource person to the committee was returning to the room, so we asked what the financial implications would be if the GA simply declared The Years of Diversity without the additional resources. Learning there would be no financial implications, we ran with it.

The review committee had recommended that our committee "be encouraged to develop a year-long churchwide emphasis to celebrate the diversity of our Church in Synods and Presbyteries". So we asked that the review committee add the following: and that the General Assembly designate 2008 as A Celebration of the Year of Diversity in support of this emphasis.

TADA!! They were so happy at being able to do that that it passed unanimously!!! Mission (mostly) accomplished!! We got our visibility (which was really our goal for this particular situation, afterall)!!

Surely God was in the midst of all this!!

WOOHOO!! HAPPY DANCE!!!!! WOOHOO!! ALLELUIA!!

So ... Now it goes to the floor of the General Assembly. I'm not sure when the report will be voted on by the whole Assembly, but do you really think they'll say "no" to diversity in Birmingham?

Weeeeeeeeee're Off ........

to see the wizard! Well, not really.

General Assembly starts on Thursday and I have a pre-Assembly meeting or two to attend, so I'm headed out of here this evening!

Am I ready? Of course not! I'm further along than usual, though. I actually have my suitcase mostly packed. Laura, pick your jaw up off the floor! *chuckle* (Generally at this point on the day I'm leaving, I'm still wandering around the house asking myself "What should I take? What should I take?")

Don't know how much time I'll have for this, but when I get a chance I'll post. There ought to be some interesting happenings this week and, if the brain's functioning when I get back to the room, I'll try to write something coherent about it.

Catch ya later! Must locate shoes!

St. Pixels

Back in 2004, the Methodist Church in England decided to try something new - a virtual 3D church. Out of curiosity, I wandered through the church, visited and prayed with its members, checked out the architecture and furnishings (with a pipe organ no less!), wandered in the Crypt, watched people get 'smited' by the wardens (with justification - I didn't see any smitings out of hand) and, oddly enough, found an interesting community with a place for respite for this pastor. Things got busy, though, and I wandered away and forgot about the Church of Fools.

It was quite an experiment and unfortunately wasn't able to survive as a stand-alone. Oh, the 'building' still exists and you can go in to visit as an individual, but it's not the same.

Church of Fools also had a bulletin board section where there were discussions, games (Rosencrantz? Mornington Crescent? other weird stuff), mutual support, a chat cafe, and so on. I had left my joining email in my inbox and just happened to notice it the other day, so I decided to visit. What the hey!

Guess what. The Methodists are going to try it again, but they have to build it from the ground up, so it'll be a while before the virtual 3D church is up and running again. St. Pixels is starting things out with a revamped bulletin board and the chat cafe, with a daily worship service in the cafe. (I haven't quite figured out what time it starts, since the time is a combination of military time and GMT, I think. *sigh*) I've 'transfered my membership' *chuckle* and am now a bona fide member of the community again.

What was really cool is that there are people who remember me from the old site, and I remember them. It's been at least a year since I visited, so that seems absolutely amazing to me.

With the start of the hurricane season, they've started a thread about hurricanes for people to post their concerns, what they're dealing with in the aftermath of last year's hurricanes, to support those affected by hurricanes. It's not gotten much of a start yet, but I suspect it will grow as the season goes by. Might be a good way for those of us still hobbled in recovery to meet and share stories and help each other.

Well, off to go a-visiting! See ya later!

Of Birth, Death, ... and Life

Today is the anniversary of my birth. It's not a grand day, in the scheme of things, and over the years, I've often even forgotten it. Generally, if anything is done in acknowledgement of the achievement of another year, it's been something I've chosen to do for myself to celebrate. Not so here. Each year, a number of members and staff have gathered for lunch and hilarity. This year was no exception. It was all I could do to get my "inappropriate" birthday card back from one of my older members! She kept fanning herself with it, and I kept telling her that the hot guy on the front was the reason she kept feeling hot! *hoots of laughter!* I haven't laughed quite that hard in ages!

And yet, there's a weird cast over the day. I opened my paper to the picture of a dead Al-Zarqawi on the front. While I feel some relief at the end of this particular individual's reign of terror, I can't help but fear that we now have to deal with a martyr who will live on through the evil and terror of those who take up his mantle. It is a mystery to me that anyone could believe that God's will is the slaughter of anyone who does not hold to a particular set of beliefs. My own thoughts are that Zarqawi isn't enjoying all those virgins he seemed to believe would come his way upon his martyrdom. Yet his death is splashed across the pages of papers and news reports - a visible, truly evilness brought to a personal end.

Then there's the family I'm doing the memorial for tomorrow, basically invisible people. The wife has been a member of my congregation for years, but no one really knows her. I met her once and she seemed a nice lady, sad and accepting what was soon to happen (looking forward to it, perhaps?). I didn't know much about her then, and speaking was difficult for her, so she did not pass along much more. I feel guilt and sorrow that I don't have much to share. I realize that often I've had to do memorials for people I'd never even met, yet this one touches me deeply for some reason. I hope that I am able to do honor to the family and help in the healing of their loss. I trust that God will give me the words which help. That's all I can do.

And, then there's life. My brother sent me a HAPPY BIRTHDAY! email. He's currently back in active duty in Kosovo. Part of his email said this:

I am safely back in Kosovo watching the peace break out around here. Other than some shootings and rock throwings and yelling at each other, it has been pretty quiet. It has been raining and cool almost every day since I have been back. Fortunately, most of the bad guys are fair weather rock chuckers so when it rains, it is quiet. Not much else to report from over here. Just alot of meetings and briefings and all the other wonderful things that represent bureaucracy and staff work.

"Watching the peace break out" - what a wonderful concept! That was a word I needed to hear today. Would that humanity could get their act together enough to 'watch the peace break out' everywhere! Then we could get about the business of living our lives without watching over our shoulders for the next person who feels that the only way forward is through hateful death and destruction. Oh, that we could find ways to convince them they are wrong before anyone else is harmed! *sigh*

One of my birthday cards said "Here's hoping all your birthday wishes come true .... even the embarassing ones!" My biggest birthday wish isn't the least bit embarassing - that the peace may break out everywhere and that all our family members may return safely home.

With Fear and Trembling

I really regret opening my mail yesterday. In it was the terrifying news that I have to come up with a seven minute presentation for the General Assembly Review committee which will be grilling my team Friday week.

Seven minutes?! ARGH!!! Mind you, I do a sermon most Sundays and they tend to run about 10 minutes (if I'm lucky, less if not). So why does this thing terrify me? The notice came with dire warnings that the Moderator would cut anyone off at the knees if they went over 7 minutes. Actually, I don't think the length is the problem. (Besides, there is something Biblical about the number 7, as in completion.)

It's the context. This is definitely an "outside the comfort zone" experience. I keep wondering how I ended up in this situation. *chuckle* I certainly never imagined myself moderating a General Assembly-level committee in my lifetime, nor did I ever imagine myself having any visible role ANYWHERE, to tell the truth. My personal preference is wallflower-mode, except when I feel somehow compelled beyond myself to be otherwise (if that makes any sense at all).

It's a good thing I don't chew my fingernails, or I wouldn't have any fingers left now!

*sigh* So it is with fear and trembling that I now begin the crafting of seven minutes of something which I hope doesn't come out as drivel. Help me, O God, for I selfishly don't want to look like a dolt!