Last night, while at a function for area Presbyterian women, I overheard a portion of a conversation which struck me kinda odd. One woman was talking about spending time at a second home they owned out in west Texas. In the course of the conversation, she mentioned that she was so glad to be back in Beaumont because things were so green and lush around here and so dry and brown out there. It wasn't that long ago that everyone in the Golden Triangle area was devastated because of how bare things looked after the hurricane.
Isn't it amazing how quickly our perceptions can change?
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Comment on a Comment
A friend of mine left this comment on another site:
I don't think our world will ever know peace in our lifetime. It's sad but true. We've taken away so may values that are needed for peace that my generation the one that's causing all the violence may never stop. We need to go back to the little things like opening the doors for strangers, saying ma'am and sir. Put things like prayer and the pledge of allegiance back in school. All opinions set aside the fact is the generations before mine weren't as violent, I hate to see what kind of people come out of younger generations. It just seems like when we said prayer's and the pledge of allegiance, when we didn't have violent video games, when our parents could spank us for being bad, when we had to earn/work for the money that bought the newest set of legos the world was a better place.
Here's my comment on her comment:
Peace in our lifetime? You're right. It won't happen. I fear it is part of the human condition for violence to exist somewhere in the world at all times. However, I would not put the lack of peace at the feet of your generation. Violence has existed in some form or fashion since Cain killed Abel.
It has nothing whatsoever to do with whether there is prayer in schools or the Pledge of Allegiance is said daily.
To put things into perspective, when I was growing up, the war in Vietnam was escalating and the Cold War was really heating up. In the early 60's, there was a very real concern that global thermonuclear war would break out to the destruction of all humanity. When I was a teenager, there were several protest groups who chose to use violence as a way to get their message across - American terrorists, if you will. Hijackings were happening left and right. Serial killers whose rampages were televised across the nation, and the first of the school shooters, Charles Whitman, killed 16 people and wounded 31 at the University of Texas in 1966. (Oh! and btw, we had a prayer/devotional and said the pledge daily.)
It seems to me that part of the sense of escalating violence in the world today is due to the ubiquitous nature of the public news system which exists 24/7. If you must find something to televise or fill your website around the clock, then even the first hint of a violent situation ends up filling hours of airtime, over and over again. The technology, and the fact that there were only 3-4 broadcast stations for so many years, did not lend themselves to "all the news, all the time". Even so, when something like the serial killer who came through Beaumont in the early 80's and raped and killed the mother of two of the children at the day care center where I worked, it was carried on the news with breaking news updates as new information was available, up to and including the final minutes when the police trapped him at the Canadian border and killed him when he wouldn't surrender.
As a result, those mentally ill individuals who perpetrate such violent acts as what happened at Virginia Tech this week take advantage of the situation to gain their few minutes of fame, even to committing suicide in a national forum. From their deluded point of view, they will live on in infamy and will leave this life at the pinnacle of their notoriety. Just look at all of the copycat attempts which began to pop up across the country this past week. In this environment of heightened awareness, even a failed attempt gains a visibility which the attacker would not otherwise have.
As to prayer in the schools, it still exists. Just think of all the frantic praying which happens as the test you've not prepared adequately for is handed out or the presentation you're uncertain about is about to start! What has changed is that the schools no longer sponsor the prayers of a particular religion. Look at it this way, what if you (or your child) were Christian in a system where every day the prayer of the day was Buddhist or Hindu or Islamic? That was the concern of our founding parents when freedom of religion was established in our Constitution. Our country has never been completely one religious faith (note that Thomas Jefferson included a Koran in his library) and is designed to honor the faiths of all her peoples.
I'm of the opinion that our behavior tends to operate on a long, slow pendulum and goes from periods of limited violence to extreme violence over time. If you do some historical digging, you'll find that even in colonial times, the adults were concerned about the deteriorating behavior of the younger generation, noting coarse language and coarser behaviors occurring. In time, the behavior gets out of hand and society begins to apply correctives.
As to spanking children, I believe that violence begets violence. What is of significance is that inappropriate behavior receive appropriate consequences. Spanking teaches that it is all right for a significantly larger, more powerful person to inflict damage on the smaller and weaker.
Violent video games are a whole 'nother kettle of fish. I truly wrestle with this one. There's this part of me which says playing these games inures one to the actual harm being inflicted on another, if such action were to happen in real life. Yet if such were so, my generation would be equally involved in the same level of violence as yours (and probably is if you take a measured look at the violence in our world globally), since we were exposed regularly to the violence of cartoons, westerns, the Three Stooges, and war movies. We seem to believe that the same media which advertises in order to get us to buy various and sundry products is not capable of influencing our behavior when it comes to inflicting harm on others. The jury's still out on this one.
Helping others, treating others with respect, living within our means and treating ourselves with respect, well, I think those are part of that pendulum swing I mentioned earlier. I believe there will come a point (and I think we're getting close to reaching it) when the majority of people will be fed up with the way we treat each other and a new level of respect and building community will be started. It won't look quite exactly the way it did 60, 80, 100 years ago, but it will fit our time and our situation. If each of us keeps doing our part toward making the world a better place, the pendulum will swing a bit faster. Nope, we won't achieve peace throughout the world, but our little corner of it will probably become a bit nicer.
I don't think our world will ever know peace in our lifetime. It's sad but true. We've taken away so may values that are needed for peace that my generation the one that's causing all the violence may never stop. We need to go back to the little things like opening the doors for strangers, saying ma'am and sir. Put things like prayer and the pledge of allegiance back in school. All opinions set aside the fact is the generations before mine weren't as violent, I hate to see what kind of people come out of younger generations. It just seems like when we said prayer's and the pledge of allegiance, when we didn't have violent video games, when our parents could spank us for being bad, when we had to earn/work for the money that bought the newest set of legos the world was a better place.
Here's my comment on her comment:
Peace in our lifetime? You're right. It won't happen. I fear it is part of the human condition for violence to exist somewhere in the world at all times. However, I would not put the lack of peace at the feet of your generation. Violence has existed in some form or fashion since Cain killed Abel.
It has nothing whatsoever to do with whether there is prayer in schools or the Pledge of Allegiance is said daily.
To put things into perspective, when I was growing up, the war in Vietnam was escalating and the Cold War was really heating up. In the early 60's, there was a very real concern that global thermonuclear war would break out to the destruction of all humanity. When I was a teenager, there were several protest groups who chose to use violence as a way to get their message across - American terrorists, if you will. Hijackings were happening left and right. Serial killers whose rampages were televised across the nation, and the first of the school shooters, Charles Whitman, killed 16 people and wounded 31 at the University of Texas in 1966. (Oh! and btw, we had a prayer/devotional and said the pledge daily.)
It seems to me that part of the sense of escalating violence in the world today is due to the ubiquitous nature of the public news system which exists 24/7. If you must find something to televise or fill your website around the clock, then even the first hint of a violent situation ends up filling hours of airtime, over and over again. The technology, and the fact that there were only 3-4 broadcast stations for so many years, did not lend themselves to "all the news, all the time". Even so, when something like the serial killer who came through Beaumont in the early 80's and raped and killed the mother of two of the children at the day care center where I worked, it was carried on the news with breaking news updates as new information was available, up to and including the final minutes when the police trapped him at the Canadian border and killed him when he wouldn't surrender.
As a result, those mentally ill individuals who perpetrate such violent acts as what happened at Virginia Tech this week take advantage of the situation to gain their few minutes of fame, even to committing suicide in a national forum. From their deluded point of view, they will live on in infamy and will leave this life at the pinnacle of their notoriety. Just look at all of the copycat attempts which began to pop up across the country this past week. In this environment of heightened awareness, even a failed attempt gains a visibility which the attacker would not otherwise have.
As to prayer in the schools, it still exists. Just think of all the frantic praying which happens as the test you've not prepared adequately for is handed out or the presentation you're uncertain about is about to start! What has changed is that the schools no longer sponsor the prayers of a particular religion. Look at it this way, what if you (or your child) were Christian in a system where every day the prayer of the day was Buddhist or Hindu or Islamic? That was the concern of our founding parents when freedom of religion was established in our Constitution. Our country has never been completely one religious faith (note that Thomas Jefferson included a Koran in his library) and is designed to honor the faiths of all her peoples.
I'm of the opinion that our behavior tends to operate on a long, slow pendulum and goes from periods of limited violence to extreme violence over time. If you do some historical digging, you'll find that even in colonial times, the adults were concerned about the deteriorating behavior of the younger generation, noting coarse language and coarser behaviors occurring. In time, the behavior gets out of hand and society begins to apply correctives.
As to spanking children, I believe that violence begets violence. What is of significance is that inappropriate behavior receive appropriate consequences. Spanking teaches that it is all right for a significantly larger, more powerful person to inflict damage on the smaller and weaker.
Violent video games are a whole 'nother kettle of fish. I truly wrestle with this one. There's this part of me which says playing these games inures one to the actual harm being inflicted on another, if such action were to happen in real life. Yet if such were so, my generation would be equally involved in the same level of violence as yours (and probably is if you take a measured look at the violence in our world globally), since we were exposed regularly to the violence of cartoons, westerns, the Three Stooges, and war movies. We seem to believe that the same media which advertises in order to get us to buy various and sundry products is not capable of influencing our behavior when it comes to inflicting harm on others. The jury's still out on this one.
Helping others, treating others with respect, living within our means and treating ourselves with respect, well, I think those are part of that pendulum swing I mentioned earlier. I believe there will come a point (and I think we're getting close to reaching it) when the majority of people will be fed up with the way we treat each other and a new level of respect and building community will be started. It won't look quite exactly the way it did 60, 80, 100 years ago, but it will fit our time and our situation. If each of us keeps doing our part toward making the world a better place, the pendulum will swing a bit faster. Nope, we won't achieve peace throughout the world, but our little corner of it will probably become a bit nicer.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
In the News
Has it really been almost 2 weeks since last I posted? Guess so! Things got a bit busy, what with the son-ly person heading to California right after Easter and meetings and recuperating and house repair and all. Then, most of this week, I was at our presbytery's annual post-Easter clergy retreat - sans electronics (mostly). It was a truly good and much needed break, filled with laughter and naps and good food and healing.
Then we had to return to the real world. I ache for the families and friends of those who died at Virginia Tech, yes, even the shooter's family. The repercussions, the video, the commentary seem to reverbrate unceasingly. There is so much that is incomprehensible, which boggles the mind. What is it about the time period around April 19th? So many vile and incomprehensible experiences seem to have that date in near proximity. Is there something in the air that makes people snap? Is it just coincidence? Who knows?
And now, there are potential copycats popping up in communities across the country. Or is it just that we're more aware of them now that we have Virginia Tech in our range of vision daily? So far, security has been sufficient to avert the attackers or keep the carnage to a minimum (ack! I hate to think this way.). There's this part of me which wants to take every person who might remotely even consider taking up weapons and harming people and locking them away in an appropriate mental institution for treatment, and then forcing them to take the meds or do whatever it takes to keep such violence from occurring again. But then, how do you determine who those persons might be? So, what else can we, should we, must we do? Even if we were to ratchet down on access to guns, someone in Cho's state of mind would find some other way to perpetrate violence against others (and ultimately him/herself). There are no easy answers to this one. *sigh*
On Thursday, Mom and I buried KittKat in her backyard, a good place in the sun near where the birds and squirrels used to drive PsychoKat nuts. Then the dog promptly dug KittKat's box back up. Just being a dog. I guess she wanted to nibble KittKat's neck, just like she used to.
Housely progress is occuring. The appropriately sized check from the insurance arrived during the week, so I ordered and scheduled the shower repairs yesterday and went to schedule the door replacement today. Dead and dying tree removal is scheduled for Monday. People are coming to finish up the exterior painting and fix the fence sometime next week. WOOHOO!! But I'm not going to get too excited or predict a move-in date. I'm afraid something else will come along and trip me up, if I do.
Well, it's time to get ready for tomorrow, bulletin to prepare, sermon to write, clothes to wash (a favorite pasttime *she said sarcastically*). Prayers for healing continue rising, and may the world find some way to be filled with peace.
Then we had to return to the real world. I ache for the families and friends of those who died at Virginia Tech, yes, even the shooter's family. The repercussions, the video, the commentary seem to reverbrate unceasingly. There is so much that is incomprehensible, which boggles the mind. What is it about the time period around April 19th? So many vile and incomprehensible experiences seem to have that date in near proximity. Is there something in the air that makes people snap? Is it just coincidence? Who knows?
And now, there are potential copycats popping up in communities across the country. Or is it just that we're more aware of them now that we have Virginia Tech in our range of vision daily? So far, security has been sufficient to avert the attackers or keep the carnage to a minimum (ack! I hate to think this way.). There's this part of me which wants to take every person who might remotely even consider taking up weapons and harming people and locking them away in an appropriate mental institution for treatment, and then forcing them to take the meds or do whatever it takes to keep such violence from occurring again. But then, how do you determine who those persons might be? So, what else can we, should we, must we do? Even if we were to ratchet down on access to guns, someone in Cho's state of mind would find some other way to perpetrate violence against others (and ultimately him/herself). There are no easy answers to this one. *sigh*
On Thursday, Mom and I buried KittKat in her backyard, a good place in the sun near where the birds and squirrels used to drive PsychoKat nuts. Then the dog promptly dug KittKat's box back up. Just being a dog. I guess she wanted to nibble KittKat's neck, just like she used to.
Housely progress is occuring. The appropriately sized check from the insurance arrived during the week, so I ordered and scheduled the shower repairs yesterday and went to schedule the door replacement today. Dead and dying tree removal is scheduled for Monday. People are coming to finish up the exterior painting and fix the fence sometime next week. WOOHOO!! But I'm not going to get too excited or predict a move-in date. I'm afraid something else will come along and trip me up, if I do.
Well, it's time to get ready for tomorrow, bulletin to prepare, sermon to write, clothes to wash (a favorite pasttime *she said sarcastically*). Prayers for healing continue rising, and may the world find some way to be filled with peace.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Chronology of a Hellacious Week
I generally love Holy Week. It's a hard week for pastors if you do any of the extra worship services, but there's something about following Jesus and the disciples from the triumphal entry to Jerusalem through the Last Supper to the crucifixion to the dark waiting hours to the Resurrection which is so enriching.
This past Holy Week, however, was the week from hell.
Monday started out just fine. I had a lot to accomplish, but it was a glorious day and I wasn't rushed to get anything done. Then Mom called to tell me my cat was sick. At the time, I wasn't particularly worried. Cats, like people, sometimes get stomach viruses, so you just give it some time and it goes away. Mom doesn't do "sick cat" very well, so I got periodic semi-frantic calls during the day.
On Tuesday, Mom called in the morning to say that KittKat wasn't doing any better. I had things I had to do, but some of them could be done from Houston, so I told Mom to call the vet and I'd be in town about 3pm. Rush to office, fight computer there, but got the two things that had to be done on Tuesday finished, then headed to Houston, while frantically trying to locate a pianist who could play for our Wednesday choir rehearsal and Maundy Thursday service, since our current pianist had to work those nights. Fortunately, that mission was accomplished by the time I reached Winnie.
Now, I figured it would be just a short jaunt, so didn't make any plans to stay overnight. WRONG! The vet hydrated KittKat, gave her something to calm her stomach, drew blood, and told us to watch her to see how she's doing. Did I mention that Mom doesn't do "sick cat" very well? So I spent the night in case we had to catch the cat in the morning.
On Wednesday, KittKat looked a bit better and was claiming the high ground again. The test results didn't show anything dire, so I returned home. Or that is, returned to the church to put together the bulletins for Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday. Managed to get Thursday and Saturday finished, but the printer ran out of ink before I could print Sunday's bulletins. Choir practice went well, but nothing was certain about the brass ensemble.
On Thursday, I get a phone message that my choir accompanist probably wouldn't be able to be at worship on Sunday. ACK! This means that the brass ensemble has fallen apart as well, since two of the accompanist's family members were in the ensemble. DOUBLE ACK! Call the organist, who will gladly play for the choir, but that still leaves me in a bind about the Easter fanfare. About 4:30, my mom calls to say KittKat's doing worse, and I encourage her to take her to the vet ASAP. About 5:00, I get the call asking me about putting her down. Maundy Thursday service starts at 6:00. Needless to say, the Maundy Thursday service was a tough one. Then my son decides that there won't be a fanfare for Easter and wants to take the 'safe' route by getting the organist to play a prelude. I'd already told the organist 3 times that he wouldn't need a prelude, so had a minor meltdown to go along with the horrible day I was already having. My son decided that he'd do something brassy for Easter. (Thanks, son!)
On Friday, I arrive at church with printer cartridges to finish up the bulletins, and the printer completely craps out. It won't even let me put the new cartridge in. At this point, I still have the Good Friday meditation on "I thirst" to complete. Throwing my hands up in the air, I head to the house, write most of my meditation (and then get stumped on how to end it).
In the afternoon, I meet with my church member who was helping me get the lilies we needed for Sunday ... except the place where we were to get them was out! ACK! Took a detour to buy a new printer, then headed on the prowl for lilies. We managed to find 7 at one place and took them back to the church. My member was going to continue the hunt, while I got ready for the Good Friday service. We get to the church and she has a flat tire. A very flat tire. *sigh*
On Saturday, I head to the church to finish those unfinished bulletins. Install the new printer without too much difficulty. Print out the bulletins, only to discover that our old printer settings wouldn't work on the new printer. Thinking I'd made all the necessary changes, I began copying Sunday's main bulletin. Oops! WRONG AGAIN! In order to get the stupid thing to format correctly, I had to completely redo the bulletin. Thank God for cut and paste! I didn't have to actually type everything, just a few hunks of it.
My lily-finding church member managed to scrounge up enough lilies and they arrived at the church, so that was ready for the grand procession on Sunday morning.
Getting ready for the Easter vigil, I suddenly couldn't find the small candles we use at Christmas. It didn't help any that the weather had turned horrendous on Saturday and the temperature was heading toward the basement. The vigil starts outside with the lighting of new fire, so we could light those candles I couldn't find. If we had to move that inside, the fire alarm system would go off. Not a good plan. Someone else managed to find the candles and we had our fire-starter stand just outside the door to get that going. After that, the service went well.
Headed home, then to eat with the son, then to finish up the sunrise service and our regular worship service before heading to bed. Hit the pillows about 1am (not bad for me, actually) with the alarm clock set for 5:45am. That's right, people! A.M.!
I woke up at 6:38am - eight minutes after the sunrise service was to start! I don't think I'll repeat the language used at that point. Fortunately, because the weather was still yucky, not many people showed up for the service. I cried. Then headed home to get ready for the main service.
When I returned to church, the sun came out and it was a glorious morning. My son and his trombone-playing compatriot met to see if they could put something fanfare-y together for the prelude, and went through about a half-dozen pieces before getting something they could both play. The organist arrived. The choir rehearsed. And we went through the service without any hitches, unless you count the ingenious youth who managed to 'do the impossible' during my time with young disciples. But then, resurrection is impossible, too, so I managed to make that fly.
While I wouldn't want another hellacious week for Holy Week in the future, I will say this for it: it's the first Easter Sunday since I began as a minister where I have truly been able to relax and enjoy the worship service. In the grand scheme of things, it could have been much worse.
This past Holy Week, however, was the week from hell.
Monday started out just fine. I had a lot to accomplish, but it was a glorious day and I wasn't rushed to get anything done. Then Mom called to tell me my cat was sick. At the time, I wasn't particularly worried. Cats, like people, sometimes get stomach viruses, so you just give it some time and it goes away. Mom doesn't do "sick cat" very well, so I got periodic semi-frantic calls during the day.
On Tuesday, Mom called in the morning to say that KittKat wasn't doing any better. I had things I had to do, but some of them could be done from Houston, so I told Mom to call the vet and I'd be in town about 3pm. Rush to office, fight computer there, but got the two things that had to be done on Tuesday finished, then headed to Houston, while frantically trying to locate a pianist who could play for our Wednesday choir rehearsal and Maundy Thursday service, since our current pianist had to work those nights. Fortunately, that mission was accomplished by the time I reached Winnie.
Now, I figured it would be just a short jaunt, so didn't make any plans to stay overnight. WRONG! The vet hydrated KittKat, gave her something to calm her stomach, drew blood, and told us to watch her to see how she's doing. Did I mention that Mom doesn't do "sick cat" very well? So I spent the night in case we had to catch the cat in the morning.
On Wednesday, KittKat looked a bit better and was claiming the high ground again. The test results didn't show anything dire, so I returned home. Or that is, returned to the church to put together the bulletins for Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday. Managed to get Thursday and Saturday finished, but the printer ran out of ink before I could print Sunday's bulletins. Choir practice went well, but nothing was certain about the brass ensemble.
On Thursday, I get a phone message that my choir accompanist probably wouldn't be able to be at worship on Sunday. ACK! This means that the brass ensemble has fallen apart as well, since two of the accompanist's family members were in the ensemble. DOUBLE ACK! Call the organist, who will gladly play for the choir, but that still leaves me in a bind about the Easter fanfare. About 4:30, my mom calls to say KittKat's doing worse, and I encourage her to take her to the vet ASAP. About 5:00, I get the call asking me about putting her down. Maundy Thursday service starts at 6:00. Needless to say, the Maundy Thursday service was a tough one. Then my son decides that there won't be a fanfare for Easter and wants to take the 'safe' route by getting the organist to play a prelude. I'd already told the organist 3 times that he wouldn't need a prelude, so had a minor meltdown to go along with the horrible day I was already having. My son decided that he'd do something brassy for Easter. (Thanks, son!)
On Friday, I arrive at church with printer cartridges to finish up the bulletins, and the printer completely craps out. It won't even let me put the new cartridge in. At this point, I still have the Good Friday meditation on "I thirst" to complete. Throwing my hands up in the air, I head to the house, write most of my meditation (and then get stumped on how to end it).
In the afternoon, I meet with my church member who was helping me get the lilies we needed for Sunday ... except the place where we were to get them was out! ACK! Took a detour to buy a new printer, then headed on the prowl for lilies. We managed to find 7 at one place and took them back to the church. My member was going to continue the hunt, while I got ready for the Good Friday service. We get to the church and she has a flat tire. A very flat tire. *sigh*
On Saturday, I head to the church to finish those unfinished bulletins. Install the new printer without too much difficulty. Print out the bulletins, only to discover that our old printer settings wouldn't work on the new printer. Thinking I'd made all the necessary changes, I began copying Sunday's main bulletin. Oops! WRONG AGAIN! In order to get the stupid thing to format correctly, I had to completely redo the bulletin. Thank God for cut and paste! I didn't have to actually type everything, just a few hunks of it.
My lily-finding church member managed to scrounge up enough lilies and they arrived at the church, so that was ready for the grand procession on Sunday morning.
Getting ready for the Easter vigil, I suddenly couldn't find the small candles we use at Christmas. It didn't help any that the weather had turned horrendous on Saturday and the temperature was heading toward the basement. The vigil starts outside with the lighting of new fire, so we could light those candles I couldn't find. If we had to move that inside, the fire alarm system would go off. Not a good plan. Someone else managed to find the candles and we had our fire-starter stand just outside the door to get that going. After that, the service went well.
Headed home, then to eat with the son, then to finish up the sunrise service and our regular worship service before heading to bed. Hit the pillows about 1am (not bad for me, actually) with the alarm clock set for 5:45am. That's right, people! A.M.!
I woke up at 6:38am - eight minutes after the sunrise service was to start! I don't think I'll repeat the language used at that point. Fortunately, because the weather was still yucky, not many people showed up for the service. I cried. Then headed home to get ready for the main service.
When I returned to church, the sun came out and it was a glorious morning. My son and his trombone-playing compatriot met to see if they could put something fanfare-y together for the prelude, and went through about a half-dozen pieces before getting something they could both play. The organist arrived. The choir rehearsed. And we went through the service without any hitches, unless you count the ingenious youth who managed to 'do the impossible' during my time with young disciples. But then, resurrection is impossible, too, so I managed to make that fly.
While I wouldn't want another hellacious week for Holy Week in the future, I will say this for it: it's the first Easter Sunday since I began as a minister where I have truly been able to relax and enjoy the worship service. In the grand scheme of things, it could have been much worse.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Requiem for a Kat
She was a little stray, probably abandoned as a kitten. Some friends found her and rescued her when she somehow managed to climb her way into the cabinet of their rv. I brought her home about eight years ago.
She had an interesting miaow, so I named her KittKat, 'cuz she meowed in skat There was always something a little bit skittish about her. The Great Idabel Ice Storm at Christmas, 1999, which happened a couple of weeks after she was spayed, discombibilated her. A tree limb poked its way through the roof, and she and the dog spent the night there alone that first night. After the storm, she gained a new name - PsychoKat.
She never did handle change very well. When we moved, and were down to the last stuff before packing dog and cat into the car to head south, my son was packing some of his things away. He came into the living room with a startled sound in his voice, "She hissed at me! That cat hissed at me!" Apparently, KittKat decided that my son was responsible for all of the current chaos in her life.
She used to play with the dog, attack her, then flop on the floor for the dog to nibble her neck. Her favorite places were up high, so she could look down on things. She never did quite figure out sliding glass doors. She'd sit looking out the window, then attempt to attack something on the outside, clonking her head.
Before Her Horribleness roared through in 2005, cat, dog, and I went to Houston for vacation. I had a few days back home, then a week long trip to make, so I left KittKat at Mom's. She never made it back home.
KittKat was fine until Monday. On Monday, she started vomiting and couldn't stop. The vet gave her some fluids and stuff to calm the vomiting, which helped a bit. Blood tests revealed only that she was dehydrated. The tests didn't reveal why. She got a bit better, but wasn't interested in eating and wouldn't drink. Today she began vomiting again - green stuff.
If she'd been here with me, I would have tried a bit long. But Mom couldn't handle it, and I couldn't make it to Houston to get her. The vet thought her heart was enlarged, since she was breathing kind of rough, too. (What scaredy-kat doesn't breathe weirdly when out of her environment?) So this afternoon, I agreed to put her to sleep.
I don't know if I made the right decision, but it was the only one I could see at that moment. Right now, it just hurts.
So - here's to KittKat, who kept me company and 'talked' to me in the mornings and made me laugh. Goodbye, little friend.
I think I'm going to go and cry some more.
She had an interesting miaow, so I named her KittKat, 'cuz she meowed in skat There was always something a little bit skittish about her. The Great Idabel Ice Storm at Christmas, 1999, which happened a couple of weeks after she was spayed, discombibilated her. A tree limb poked its way through the roof, and she and the dog spent the night there alone that first night. After the storm, she gained a new name - PsychoKat.
She never did handle change very well. When we moved, and were down to the last stuff before packing dog and cat into the car to head south, my son was packing some of his things away. He came into the living room with a startled sound in his voice, "She hissed at me! That cat hissed at me!" Apparently, KittKat decided that my son was responsible for all of the current chaos in her life.
She used to play with the dog, attack her, then flop on the floor for the dog to nibble her neck. Her favorite places were up high, so she could look down on things. She never did quite figure out sliding glass doors. She'd sit looking out the window, then attempt to attack something on the outside, clonking her head.
Before Her Horribleness roared through in 2005, cat, dog, and I went to Houston for vacation. I had a few days back home, then a week long trip to make, so I left KittKat at Mom's. She never made it back home.
KittKat was fine until Monday. On Monday, she started vomiting and couldn't stop. The vet gave her some fluids and stuff to calm the vomiting, which helped a bit. Blood tests revealed only that she was dehydrated. The tests didn't reveal why. She got a bit better, but wasn't interested in eating and wouldn't drink. Today she began vomiting again - green stuff.
If she'd been here with me, I would have tried a bit long. But Mom couldn't handle it, and I couldn't make it to Houston to get her. The vet thought her heart was enlarged, since she was breathing kind of rough, too. (What scaredy-kat doesn't breathe weirdly when out of her environment?) So this afternoon, I agreed to put her to sleep.
I don't know if I made the right decision, but it was the only one I could see at that moment. Right now, it just hurts.
So - here's to KittKat, who kept me company and 'talked' to me in the mornings and made me laugh. Goodbye, little friend.
I think I'm going to go and cry some more.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Outraged
In today's Beaumont Enterprise, one of the editorials is by an out-of-state pundit who writes about the "lessons" learned in the process of getting a bazillion pine cones removed from his yard. Mark Rutledge contracts with his six-year-old daughter to pick up the pine cones at 5 cents per cone, partly because he wants to teach his daughter about the value of earning one's money upon learning that she's gleaned about $90 via birthdays and tooth fairy and other sundry non-employment income.
After a bit of nudging, she gets down to the task and ultimately rakes in about 300 pine cones, or $15 worth. In Rutledge's view, that's a bit too much money for a first-grader to earn (based on his own memories of it taking a bit longer for him to earn that much money as a child). So, he asks her how much money she has and learns she's already in possession of $92. Then he makes this offer: "Tell you what, I can pay you a nickel a pine cone like we talked about. Or I can give you enough money so that you've got an even hundred." What six-year-old wouldn't think the even hundred would be the better deal?
Here's what I emailed him:
Dear Mr. Rutledge,
I believe you are very lucky your daughter hasn't learned how to multiply yet. I'm hoping she doesn't remember this experience when she does. If so, she'll realize that you swindled her out of $7.00, legitimately earned, I might add. You made a verbal contract with her to pay 5 cents per pine cone. In that contract, you did not stipulate any limits. Then, when the total came to more than what you wanted to pay, you pulled a bait and switch on her, based on the fact that she probably wouldn't be able to figure out that you actually owed her a heck of a lot more (from a child's point of view).
What you did was unconscionable. There was no way a six-year old would be able to calculate the difference between 5 cents per pine cone and "enough money so that you've got an even hundred", and you, as an adult, knew it. You took advantage of your child and should be ashamed of yourself. She did the work she contracted to do, admittedly very much like a six-year old with moaning and groaning along the way, but she did the work. Can you imagine the lesson you would have taught her if you had given her the $15? Just think of how hard she might work in the future if she'd gotten the just reward that she'd earned - for just a little bit of extra effort, my time is worth $15! Wow! Who'd ever have imagined that?
Isn't this the reason we established child labor laws, so that our children wouldn't be taken advantage of? I'm still seeing red!
After a bit of nudging, she gets down to the task and ultimately rakes in about 300 pine cones, or $15 worth. In Rutledge's view, that's a bit too much money for a first-grader to earn (based on his own memories of it taking a bit longer for him to earn that much money as a child). So, he asks her how much money she has and learns she's already in possession of $92. Then he makes this offer: "Tell you what, I can pay you a nickel a pine cone like we talked about. Or I can give you enough money so that you've got an even hundred." What six-year-old wouldn't think the even hundred would be the better deal?
Here's what I emailed him:
Dear Mr. Rutledge,
I believe you are very lucky your daughter hasn't learned how to multiply yet. I'm hoping she doesn't remember this experience when she does. If so, she'll realize that you swindled her out of $7.00, legitimately earned, I might add. You made a verbal contract with her to pay 5 cents per pine cone. In that contract, you did not stipulate any limits. Then, when the total came to more than what you wanted to pay, you pulled a bait and switch on her, based on the fact that she probably wouldn't be able to figure out that you actually owed her a heck of a lot more (from a child's point of view).
What you did was unconscionable. There was no way a six-year old would be able to calculate the difference between 5 cents per pine cone and "enough money so that you've got an even hundred", and you, as an adult, knew it. You took advantage of your child and should be ashamed of yourself. She did the work she contracted to do, admittedly very much like a six-year old with moaning and groaning along the way, but she did the work. Can you imagine the lesson you would have taught her if you had given her the $15? Just think of how hard she might work in the future if she'd gotten the just reward that she'd earned - for just a little bit of extra effort, my time is worth $15! Wow! Who'd ever have imagined that?
Isn't this the reason we established child labor laws, so that our children wouldn't be taken advantage of? I'm still seeing red!
Monday, April 02, 2007
Slightly Absurd
Kick Off Earth Day
That's the subject line of an email from Sojourners Magazine. In case you don't know, Sojourners provides "progressive Christian commentary on faith, politics and culture". I get e-updates on various issues regularly. Today is no exception and that's what the subject line said.
Where'd my brain go this morning? I immediately began a list of people I'd like to kick off Earth, and wondered what the date of this wonderful event would be.
After a few names, I realized it was about preparing for Earth Day. Oops!
Friday, March 30, 2007
Valley of the Shadow of Death
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” That KJV verse of the 23rd Psalm has been stuck in my head recently. These words have always been comforting to me when I’ve faced any difficulty. So here we are approaching Holy Week, the week when we remember Jesus’ last days, and I began to wonder if these words were comforting to him as he faced Jerusalem and the darkness which was ahead.
Heading into Jerusalem with his disciples, Jesus knew that the cheering crowds welcoming him would have a change of heart. As he entered town, did he think that he was at the edge of that valley? Did he say to himself over the hosannas!, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.”?
As Jesus prepared for the Passover meal, the last supper when he once again taught his disciples about his definition of ministry and gave them a new meaning for a familiar ritual, was he also aware that he had walked deeper into the shadow? As he broke the bread and poured the wine, did he say to himself, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.”?
Knowing that his arrest was coming soon, when they left the place of the Passover and entered the Garden of Gethsemane, did the fear which struck him and led him to pray, “If it be possible, take this cup from me, but your will, not mine, be done.” remind him that he was not only in the shadow of the valley, but approaching the bottom? Could it be that the comfort of “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” made it possible for him to say “Not my will, but yours.”?
As he was beaten and scourged, subjected to the mockery of a trial, forced to carry his cross to Golgotha, nailed to it, and hung between two felons, could Jesus have felt that there was no shadow about this valley, that he was actually in the valley of death? Did “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” make it possible for him to take each step, endure each painful hour, experience his painful death?
In the Apostles’ Creed, we are reminded that Jesus descended into hell, walking completely through the valley of the shadow of death before overcoming death in resurrection. Did “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” give him the strength to fulfill his baptism in death and rise again to life eternal?
There is comfort in knowing that one is not alone in even the darkest hours. Scripture reminds us of that. Perhaps that is why these words are so comforting, so quickly come to mind in the dark times. While there is no way to know it for sure, I’d like to think these are words that comforted Jesus in the same way. Because beyond the certainty of companionship in the darkness, there is a second assurance: that one does not stay in the valley of the shadow of death, and in this assurance lies hope! A hope which carried Jesus, and us, beyond our fears into life eternal!
Heading into Jerusalem with his disciples, Jesus knew that the cheering crowds welcoming him would have a change of heart. As he entered town, did he think that he was at the edge of that valley? Did he say to himself over the hosannas!, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.”?
As Jesus prepared for the Passover meal, the last supper when he once again taught his disciples about his definition of ministry and gave them a new meaning for a familiar ritual, was he also aware that he had walked deeper into the shadow? As he broke the bread and poured the wine, did he say to himself, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.”?
Knowing that his arrest was coming soon, when they left the place of the Passover and entered the Garden of Gethsemane, did the fear which struck him and led him to pray, “If it be possible, take this cup from me, but your will, not mine, be done.” remind him that he was not only in the shadow of the valley, but approaching the bottom? Could it be that the comfort of “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” made it possible for him to say “Not my will, but yours.”?
As he was beaten and scourged, subjected to the mockery of a trial, forced to carry his cross to Golgotha, nailed to it, and hung between two felons, could Jesus have felt that there was no shadow about this valley, that he was actually in the valley of death? Did “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” make it possible for him to take each step, endure each painful hour, experience his painful death?
In the Apostles’ Creed, we are reminded that Jesus descended into hell, walking completely through the valley of the shadow of death before overcoming death in resurrection. Did “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” give him the strength to fulfill his baptism in death and rise again to life eternal?
There is comfort in knowing that one is not alone in even the darkest hours. Scripture reminds us of that. Perhaps that is why these words are so comforting, so quickly come to mind in the dark times. While there is no way to know it for sure, I’d like to think these are words that comforted Jesus in the same way. Because beyond the certainty of companionship in the darkness, there is a second assurance: that one does not stay in the valley of the shadow of death, and in this assurance lies hope! A hope which carried Jesus, and us, beyond our fears into life eternal!
Monday, March 26, 2007
Question of Degree
Yes, I'm just now getting around to reading Sunday's paper.
In our local paper, the opinions editor did his Sunday OpEd piece on the Tokyo firebombing from World War II. In it, he expresses surprise that the people of Japan are suing the Japanese government over the bombing, not the American government.
The logic of the suit is that the Japanese government caused the attack by starting an unprovoked war with the United States, and then not taking care of the victims of the attack on Tokyo afterward. "Accordingto to the Kyodo News agency, the 112 plaintiffs accuse the Japanese government with failing to help bombing victims and - get this - starting the war and refusing to surrender, thereby inviting the raid." He then goes on to detail some of the various atrocities committed by the Japanese during WWII, and notes that Japan and Germany "have no one to blame but themselves for the devastation of their countries during the war. They attacked other nations - many of which were defenseless and posed zero threat to them - and did horrible things to millions of people. Because of that, they deserve every bit of the counterattack that followed." (T. Taschinger, Beaumont Enterprise, 3/25/07)
I acknowledge that the scale of atrocity, loss of life, devastation which took place during WWII is far and beyond anything which has occurred, or will occur, during the current war with Iraq. But is it 'scale' which determines whether a country is 'deserving' of any counterattack it receives as a result of an unwarranted assault of another country?
I couldn't help but read his editoral as moral justification for any group of native Iraqis who may in the future decide to exact retribution against the United States for its unprovoked attack, and subsequent loss of life and upheaval, upon their country. Does that mean the people of the United States should sue our own government for such a breach if (when?) there is another attack on American soil by terrorists "home-grown" as a result of our government's course of action in Iraq?
When GW Bush decided to invade Iraq, there was no clear evidence that the Iraqi government or people had anything whatsoever to do with the terrorist attack on American soil of 9/11. Subsequent investigation and information pretty clearly says that they weren't. Thus, our attack on Iraq would qualify as unprovoked.
The scale of lives lost by Iraqis and Americans and allies is nowhere close to that of WWII; however, any loss of life as a result is significant. The U.S. has acknowledged, and fortunately dealt with, such acts as Abu Ghraib and the rape/murders committed on Iraqi soil. Yet the reality is that they did occur. Smaller, almost trivial (as if any behavior such as those acts could ever be called 'trivial'), in comparison to the actions of Japan and Germany in WWII, yet they happened. The devastation to the country and its infrastructure has been immense, and has ultimately facilitated the on-going sectarian violence which exists today. [aside - there will be those who say that anything which occurred as a result of our invasion is considerably less damage than that perpetrated by Saddam Hussein during his rule. I don't deny that Hussein was a tyrant and mass murderer and probably a worthy candidate for removal from office. That is not the issue which I am addressing.]
By Taschinger's basic logic, should we experience another attack on American soil, we would be fully deserving and a trip to the local courthouse for judgment would be completely appropriate. I wonder whether those going to court will choose to sue the American government as a whole or just GW Bush and company.
In our local paper, the opinions editor did his Sunday OpEd piece on the Tokyo firebombing from World War II. In it, he expresses surprise that the people of Japan are suing the Japanese government over the bombing, not the American government.
The logic of the suit is that the Japanese government caused the attack by starting an unprovoked war with the United States, and then not taking care of the victims of the attack on Tokyo afterward. "Accordingto to the Kyodo News agency, the 112 plaintiffs accuse the Japanese government with failing to help bombing victims and - get this - starting the war and refusing to surrender, thereby inviting the raid." He then goes on to detail some of the various atrocities committed by the Japanese during WWII, and notes that Japan and Germany "have no one to blame but themselves for the devastation of their countries during the war. They attacked other nations - many of which were defenseless and posed zero threat to them - and did horrible things to millions of people. Because of that, they deserve every bit of the counterattack that followed." (T. Taschinger, Beaumont Enterprise, 3/25/07)
I acknowledge that the scale of atrocity, loss of life, devastation which took place during WWII is far and beyond anything which has occurred, or will occur, during the current war with Iraq. But is it 'scale' which determines whether a country is 'deserving' of any counterattack it receives as a result of an unwarranted assault of another country?
I couldn't help but read his editoral as moral justification for any group of native Iraqis who may in the future decide to exact retribution against the United States for its unprovoked attack, and subsequent loss of life and upheaval, upon their country. Does that mean the people of the United States should sue our own government for such a breach if (when?) there is another attack on American soil by terrorists "home-grown" as a result of our government's course of action in Iraq?
When GW Bush decided to invade Iraq, there was no clear evidence that the Iraqi government or people had anything whatsoever to do with the terrorist attack on American soil of 9/11. Subsequent investigation and information pretty clearly says that they weren't. Thus, our attack on Iraq would qualify as unprovoked.
The scale of lives lost by Iraqis and Americans and allies is nowhere close to that of WWII; however, any loss of life as a result is significant. The U.S. has acknowledged, and fortunately dealt with, such acts as Abu Ghraib and the rape/murders committed on Iraqi soil. Yet the reality is that they did occur. Smaller, almost trivial (as if any behavior such as those acts could ever be called 'trivial'), in comparison to the actions of Japan and Germany in WWII, yet they happened. The devastation to the country and its infrastructure has been immense, and has ultimately facilitated the on-going sectarian violence which exists today. [aside - there will be those who say that anything which occurred as a result of our invasion is considerably less damage than that perpetrated by Saddam Hussein during his rule. I don't deny that Hussein was a tyrant and mass murderer and probably a worthy candidate for removal from office. That is not the issue which I am addressing.]
By Taschinger's basic logic, should we experience another attack on American soil, we would be fully deserving and a trip to the local courthouse for judgment would be completely appropriate. I wonder whether those going to court will choose to sue the American government as a whole or just GW Bush and company.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Nostalgia
It was one of those moments. The only sounds - birds chirling and chirrupping, mourning doves cooing their mournful sound in a quiet, blurred conversation. The sun shining at just the right angle. A hint of cool in the warming air. And I was transported back to my childhood.
I remember mornings like this when I was a little girl. The house we lived in wasn't air conditioned, so the windows were open for the breeze wafting crisply through the rooms. Sometimes you'd hear a woodpecker going after the bugs in the trees or bees buzzing around the rosebushes just outside my bedroom. Now and then a car would start up and leave the double cul-de-sac. And, if it was early enough, you'd hear the donkey down the road braying loudly for his breakfast. hee - HAW. ... hee -HAW. ... hee - HAW. ... he-haw-he-haw-he-haw-he-haw!
On days like these, I'd be in my bedroom until it was "time to get up". I had one of those wonderful beveled mirrors above my dresser, and I remember finding just the right place to stand/sit so you looked really large or really tiny. It was so much fun spending time standing up, and sitting down, and standing up, and sitting down, just watching my size change back and forth. The fascinations of childhood.
It was just one of those moments. Transient. Catapulted to a fond memory of the past. All too short. Magic!
I remember mornings like this when I was a little girl. The house we lived in wasn't air conditioned, so the windows were open for the breeze wafting crisply through the rooms. Sometimes you'd hear a woodpecker going after the bugs in the trees or bees buzzing around the rosebushes just outside my bedroom. Now and then a car would start up and leave the double cul-de-sac. And, if it was early enough, you'd hear the donkey down the road braying loudly for his breakfast. hee - HAW. ... hee -HAW. ... hee - HAW. ... he-haw-he-haw-he-haw-he-haw!
On days like these, I'd be in my bedroom until it was "time to get up". I had one of those wonderful beveled mirrors above my dresser, and I remember finding just the right place to stand/sit so you looked really large or really tiny. It was so much fun spending time standing up, and sitting down, and standing up, and sitting down, just watching my size change back and forth. The fascinations of childhood.
It was just one of those moments. Transient. Catapulted to a fond memory of the past. All too short. Magic!
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Progress
Inch by inch. Layer by layer. Mile of painter's tape by mile of painter's tape. Progress is happening. S-l-o-w-l-y.
This week I had the new garbage disposer installed, and learned that my dishwasher actually does work. Good news! One less thing that has to be replaced. The painting in the kitchen is completed, so the tape and coverings are now down.
I've discovered that it will cost about the same to re-tile my shower as it will to put in cultured marble. Now all I've got to do is contact the insurance company to get approval to go ahead with something. It's especially important since either way I go, it'll cost almost double what the insurance company allowed for the job.
Since I've been doing the contracting myself, I have a little bit extra for doing a couple of things that are best done while the house is in disarray: replace the linoleum in the kitchen and put in a new sliding glass door and front door. Both have their problems. And while I painted, I discovered that there's a whole lot of heat transfer at the doors. Energy efficiency is not their strong suit at the moment.
My "demon wall" in the dining room is beginning to look normal. It doesn't quite look like I threw blood at it any more. It's almost actually looking like it's supposed to. I think one more coat of paint will do it. *fingers crossed* Still a ways to go on the painting. There's trim and a bathroom, the rest of the laundry room and a little hallway, and that'll be done.
Now I think I'm going to work on stripping the paint - the paint that I'm wearing, that is. I may someday not look like a harlequin. At least I like the colors!
This week I had the new garbage disposer installed, and learned that my dishwasher actually does work. Good news! One less thing that has to be replaced. The painting in the kitchen is completed, so the tape and coverings are now down.
I've discovered that it will cost about the same to re-tile my shower as it will to put in cultured marble. Now all I've got to do is contact the insurance company to get approval to go ahead with something. It's especially important since either way I go, it'll cost almost double what the insurance company allowed for the job.
Since I've been doing the contracting myself, I have a little bit extra for doing a couple of things that are best done while the house is in disarray: replace the linoleum in the kitchen and put in a new sliding glass door and front door. Both have their problems. And while I painted, I discovered that there's a whole lot of heat transfer at the doors. Energy efficiency is not their strong suit at the moment.
My "demon wall" in the dining room is beginning to look normal. It doesn't quite look like I threw blood at it any more. It's almost actually looking like it's supposed to. I think one more coat of paint will do it. *fingers crossed* Still a ways to go on the painting. There's trim and a bathroom, the rest of the laundry room and a little hallway, and that'll be done.
Now I think I'm going to work on stripping the paint - the paint that I'm wearing, that is. I may someday not look like a harlequin. At least I like the colors!
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Morning Musings
For some bizarre reason, I can't get one of the commercials for the latest Will Ferrell movie out of my brain. It's a stupid, stupid commercial, and there's no way on the face of the earth I'd ever go to see it. I wouldn't even pay money to rent it. Besides the fact that I don't particularly care for Ferrell as an actor, the commercial shows that the premise and the acting are outrageously over the top. I simply don't waste good time or money on movies like that.
Yet I can almost tell you that the moral of the story will be of redeeming value, involving overcoming prejudice and triumphing over hatreds and biases. So maybe the movie itself will accomplish something that a more subtle telling of a similar story wouldn't.
If you don't know what movie I'm talking about, it's the one where two male figure skating rivals attack each other, are permanently banned from "men's figure skating", and then find a loophole to compete together in pairs. I figure (no pun intended) that the finale of the movie will be them skating the perfect routine and wowing the judges, thus forcing the judges to declare them the winners, to the ultimate adoration of the crowds they've won over. Actually, there's a part of me that wouldn't mind seeing something like that in real life. (Well, not the vicious rivalry and fighting part, but a well-matched pair, regardless of gender.)
Anyway, that earworm of a commercial got me to thinking about the tv show Scrubs. When it first came on, I tried to watch it once or twice. ACK! I absolutely detest such obviously cartoon-like acting. Five minutes, tops, was all I managed. Then my son came home. He likes the show. Being an adult and deciding to act that way, I "suffered" through it ... and have discovered some redeeming value in the process. There's generally a fairly solid life message embedded in the stories told, the kind of message that encourages relationship and growth and acknowledgement of our humanity. Scrubs will probably not rest on my "Top 10 Favorite TV Shows" list, but perhaps I've gotten past a bit of my own bias and prejudice in the process.
You still won't catch me paying money or wasting time to see the Will Ferrell movie!
Then, my eye was caught by a billboard for a local Christian academy, and I began to wonder if there exist any Christian schools that operate from a liberal theology. And, if not, then why haven't liberal Christians started any? There certainly aren't any in this neck of the Bible Belt.
Arriving at home, I pulled out the trusty Google search engine (at any rate, the more familiar to me Google search engine - we at least tend to think alike when searching). First, I tried "Christian school" and liberal. After getting umpty-thousand hits and looking at the first page or two, began shedding entries with words like "arts" and "college" in them. Still too many hits. And most of the ones in the first pages were conservative Christian school diatribes against liberal thought.
That wasn't working. Next tack - "liberal Christian school". That got me to a more manageable 174 hits. However, on the first two pages, most of the hits were either references to colleges or were commentary against liberal Christian schools. If you delete all references to college, you end up with 4 hits, and none of those had to do with actual places of education, but rather the "liberal Christian school of thought" or the like.
Either there aren't any, which probably isn't the case, or they choose not to identify themselves as liberal. Perhaps there's something oxymoronic about the term "liberal Christian school". In any case, it's something for me to ponder at a later date.
Yet I can almost tell you that the moral of the story will be of redeeming value, involving overcoming prejudice and triumphing over hatreds and biases. So maybe the movie itself will accomplish something that a more subtle telling of a similar story wouldn't.
If you don't know what movie I'm talking about, it's the one where two male figure skating rivals attack each other, are permanently banned from "men's figure skating", and then find a loophole to compete together in pairs. I figure (no pun intended) that the finale of the movie will be them skating the perfect routine and wowing the judges, thus forcing the judges to declare them the winners, to the ultimate adoration of the crowds they've won over. Actually, there's a part of me that wouldn't mind seeing something like that in real life. (Well, not the vicious rivalry and fighting part, but a well-matched pair, regardless of gender.)
Anyway, that earworm of a commercial got me to thinking about the tv show Scrubs. When it first came on, I tried to watch it once or twice. ACK! I absolutely detest such obviously cartoon-like acting. Five minutes, tops, was all I managed. Then my son came home. He likes the show. Being an adult and deciding to act that way, I "suffered" through it ... and have discovered some redeeming value in the process. There's generally a fairly solid life message embedded in the stories told, the kind of message that encourages relationship and growth and acknowledgement of our humanity. Scrubs will probably not rest on my "Top 10 Favorite TV Shows" list, but perhaps I've gotten past a bit of my own bias and prejudice in the process.
You still won't catch me paying money or wasting time to see the Will Ferrell movie!
Then, my eye was caught by a billboard for a local Christian academy, and I began to wonder if there exist any Christian schools that operate from a liberal theology. And, if not, then why haven't liberal Christians started any? There certainly aren't any in this neck of the Bible Belt.
Arriving at home, I pulled out the trusty Google search engine (at any rate, the more familiar to me Google search engine - we at least tend to think alike when searching). First, I tried "Christian school" and liberal. After getting umpty-thousand hits and looking at the first page or two, began shedding entries with words like "arts" and "college" in them. Still too many hits. And most of the ones in the first pages were conservative Christian school diatribes against liberal thought.
That wasn't working. Next tack - "liberal Christian school". That got me to a more manageable 174 hits. However, on the first two pages, most of the hits were either references to colleges or were commentary against liberal Christian schools. If you delete all references to college, you end up with 4 hits, and none of those had to do with actual places of education, but rather the "liberal Christian school of thought" or the like.
Either there aren't any, which probably isn't the case, or they choose not to identify themselves as liberal. Perhaps there's something oxymoronic about the term "liberal Christian school". In any case, it's something for me to ponder at a later date.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Booby Smush
Yesterday I took care of an annual obligation. It's not something I particularly enjoy, partly because there is an embarrasing component to it. It's not particularly painful, though there has usually been some discomfort involved. In the grand scheme of things, it's a momentary inconvenience; however, it is vital to one's health and well-being. I went for my mammogram.
It was actually a positive experience!
The Dauphin Center at Memorial Hermann Baptist in Beaumont opened in 2006, so it's pretty new. Sign-in didn't take long at all. When my name was called, I was taken back to the changing area, told to do the usual upper body disrobing, and asked to put my stuff in a locker with a key to take with me.
Figuring I was going to get the usual skimpy scratchy paper gown, I was surprised to see what looked almost like a terrycloth bathrobe waiting in the dressing room. When I picked it up to put it on, I was absolutely astonished. It was warm!! Even though they have to keep the equipment area cool, they were considerate enough to do what they could to keep their patients comfortable.
After changing and locking up my stuff, I had a few minutes before the mammogram. The waiting area was comfortable, with bottled water and coffee available. Now, I don't drink coffee, but if I did ... well, there was a veritable "Starbucks" of choices available. Chocolate coffee, raspberry coffee, mint coffee, about 20 different types to choose from. WOW!
Since I was the second appointment after lunch, I didn't have long to wait. If you've never had a mammogram before, you get to stand next to the x-ray machine while the technician places your boob in the appropriate spot, body draped in semi-awkward position around the machine, then this clear plastic shape is lowered onto the boob, smushing it into the proper configuration. That's the part I've never liked, and it's often been just beyond discomfort into the realm of painful. Not here. The Dauphin Center has a digital mammogram machine and it apparently doesn't have to smush quite as hard as the regular machines do.
Four poses. Four smushes. Four bzzzt's. And it was over. No "wait here for a few minutes while I check to see if the pictures came out ok." No retakes. I was free to change clothes and go. Marvelous!
The staff of the Center was wonderful. Just the right balance of caring and professionalism. I usually figure I'm a rather glorious shade of red throughout the entire experience. Not this time. The people knew what they were doing and went about their business without me feeling I was on the spot and exposed.
Won't have the results back for about a week, so I won't be disclosing either rejoicing or fear right now. I'm not anticipating a negative result, but you never can tell. That's why one's annual mammogram is so important. It's an opportunity to take action early enough to make a difference if there is a problem.
Ladies, please do whatever you have to do to have an annual mammogram. I'm lucky. My insurance thinks it's such an important preventative test that they completely cover the cost. If you don't have insurance, check with your local breast cancer association. There are resources available to cover the cost based on ability to pay, free if you don't have the bucks or insurance. This is important stuff. Please, please, please don't neglect it.
Also, please don't neglect something simple you can do on a monthly basis - a self-exam. If you feel a lump or any abnormality, get thee to a physician ASAP! It may mean the difference between life and death. (OK - some of you may believe you're indestructible and that death is a century or two away. You may be right. Yet you may also be felled by something that seems so trivial as a little blip on a breast. Please don't take any chances.)
And, Gentlemen, while it occurs more rarely in men, this is not a "ladies only" disease. Breast cancer doesn't care about your gender when it decides to strike. That self-exam? Wouldn't hurt for you to do that, too. None of your friends would have to know about it, since you do it in the shower. At the first sign of a lump or bump, get it checked. We ladies enjoy having you around! Wouldn't want to lose you to breast cancer either.
So, ladies, if you haven't done it already, it's 2007. Time to schedule your annual booby smush. *chuckle*
It was actually a positive experience!
The Dauphin Center at Memorial Hermann Baptist in Beaumont opened in 2006, so it's pretty new. Sign-in didn't take long at all. When my name was called, I was taken back to the changing area, told to do the usual upper body disrobing, and asked to put my stuff in a locker with a key to take with me.
Figuring I was going to get the usual skimpy scratchy paper gown, I was surprised to see what looked almost like a terrycloth bathrobe waiting in the dressing room. When I picked it up to put it on, I was absolutely astonished. It was warm!! Even though they have to keep the equipment area cool, they were considerate enough to do what they could to keep their patients comfortable.
After changing and locking up my stuff, I had a few minutes before the mammogram. The waiting area was comfortable, with bottled water and coffee available. Now, I don't drink coffee, but if I did ... well, there was a veritable "Starbucks" of choices available. Chocolate coffee, raspberry coffee, mint coffee, about 20 different types to choose from. WOW!
Since I was the second appointment after lunch, I didn't have long to wait. If you've never had a mammogram before, you get to stand next to the x-ray machine while the technician places your boob in the appropriate spot, body draped in semi-awkward position around the machine, then this clear plastic shape is lowered onto the boob, smushing it into the proper configuration. That's the part I've never liked, and it's often been just beyond discomfort into the realm of painful. Not here. The Dauphin Center has a digital mammogram machine and it apparently doesn't have to smush quite as hard as the regular machines do.
Four poses. Four smushes. Four bzzzt's. And it was over. No "wait here for a few minutes while I check to see if the pictures came out ok." No retakes. I was free to change clothes and go. Marvelous!
The staff of the Center was wonderful. Just the right balance of caring and professionalism. I usually figure I'm a rather glorious shade of red throughout the entire experience. Not this time. The people knew what they were doing and went about their business without me feeling I was on the spot and exposed.
Won't have the results back for about a week, so I won't be disclosing either rejoicing or fear right now. I'm not anticipating a negative result, but you never can tell. That's why one's annual mammogram is so important. It's an opportunity to take action early enough to make a difference if there is a problem.
Ladies, please do whatever you have to do to have an annual mammogram. I'm lucky. My insurance thinks it's such an important preventative test that they completely cover the cost. If you don't have insurance, check with your local breast cancer association. There are resources available to cover the cost based on ability to pay, free if you don't have the bucks or insurance. This is important stuff. Please, please, please don't neglect it.
Also, please don't neglect something simple you can do on a monthly basis - a self-exam. If you feel a lump or any abnormality, get thee to a physician ASAP! It may mean the difference between life and death. (OK - some of you may believe you're indestructible and that death is a century or two away. You may be right. Yet you may also be felled by something that seems so trivial as a little blip on a breast. Please don't take any chances.)
And, Gentlemen, while it occurs more rarely in men, this is not a "ladies only" disease. Breast cancer doesn't care about your gender when it decides to strike. That self-exam? Wouldn't hurt for you to do that, too. None of your friends would have to know about it, since you do it in the shower. At the first sign of a lump or bump, get it checked. We ladies enjoy having you around! Wouldn't want to lose you to breast cancer either.
So, ladies, if you haven't done it already, it's 2007. Time to schedule your annual booby smush. *chuckle*
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Odd Moment
Are sneezes something like yawns? Are they something you can 'catch' from someone else? Or if someone mentions them, do you suddenly feel the urge to sneeze? Or was this truly a coincidence?
Here I was working the crossword puzzle and the clue was "It often evokes a blessing". My brain said "sneeze". I did.
Of course, there aren't enough letters in the answer for 'sneeze' to be correct, but it was a rather odd moment. *chuckle*
The correct answer was "Achoo".
Gesundheit!
Here I was working the crossword puzzle and the clue was "It often evokes a blessing". My brain said "sneeze". I did.
Of course, there aren't enough letters in the answer for 'sneeze' to be correct, but it was a rather odd moment. *chuckle*
The correct answer was "Achoo".
Gesundheit!
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Mini-Rant
Headline: Police arrest girls, bank teller in heist
The story? "Police arrested two 19-year-old girls ..."
AHEM! Those 19-year-olds aren't girls. They are women!!
As I read the headline, I figured some bank teller colluded with some 15-16 year olds and attempted to rob a bank. True, teenagers that age are sometimes bound over for trial as adults; however, as a society, we tend to consider youth that age as 'not responsible' in an adult way for their actions. Parents or other legal guardians must be notified and involved in any legal proceedings, unless the young person has been legally emancipated. Generally, such a young person is tried in the juvenile justice system, unless there are some extraordinary circumstances involved.
Then you hit 18.
Eighteen is when young people are considered adult and parents/legal guardians drop out of the legal picture. No longer are parents/guardians required for the now-adult to receive medical care. No longer do parents/guardians automatically receive information from schools or physicians about their 'young charges', unless said 'young charges' give written permission for the information to be shared. And, no longer must parents/guardians be contacted before police interrogate them when a crime has been committed.
Excuse me! At that point, it's time to drop the term "girl" and shift to "woman". I'm curious. Would the Associated Press have even reported the robbery if it had been two 19-year-old "boys" (to be consistent in terminology) committing the crime? If they had, would the term "boys" have even been used?
Personally, the terms "girl" and "boy" used to describe those who are legally adult infantilizes the person described. It says at a subconscious level that the person should not be held completely accountable for their actions, and should still be under the guidance and tutelage of someone older, someone who's truly adult. It says that the person is not capable of completely understanding the consequences of their actions, and it says that the person is not capable of functioning as an adult. (Although, I suspect that at this moment those young women are wishing that were true.)
I realize that the usage of "girl" and "boy" to describe young adults (and, not so young adults in some cultural settings) won't be ended simply because I get on my high horse whenever I see/hear it used. However, I have a hard time letting it go without saying something.
Ok. I'm through now, boys and girls, er ...... ladies and gentlemen. ;) Carry on.
The story? "Police arrested two 19-year-old girls ..."
AHEM! Those 19-year-olds aren't girls. They are women!!
As I read the headline, I figured some bank teller colluded with some 15-16 year olds and attempted to rob a bank. True, teenagers that age are sometimes bound over for trial as adults; however, as a society, we tend to consider youth that age as 'not responsible' in an adult way for their actions. Parents or other legal guardians must be notified and involved in any legal proceedings, unless the young person has been legally emancipated. Generally, such a young person is tried in the juvenile justice system, unless there are some extraordinary circumstances involved.
Then you hit 18.
Eighteen is when young people are considered adult and parents/legal guardians drop out of the legal picture. No longer are parents/guardians required for the now-adult to receive medical care. No longer do parents/guardians automatically receive information from schools or physicians about their 'young charges', unless said 'young charges' give written permission for the information to be shared. And, no longer must parents/guardians be contacted before police interrogate them when a crime has been committed.
Excuse me! At that point, it's time to drop the term "girl" and shift to "woman". I'm curious. Would the Associated Press have even reported the robbery if it had been two 19-year-old "boys" (to be consistent in terminology) committing the crime? If they had, would the term "boys" have even been used?
Personally, the terms "girl" and "boy" used to describe those who are legally adult infantilizes the person described. It says at a subconscious level that the person should not be held completely accountable for their actions, and should still be under the guidance and tutelage of someone older, someone who's truly adult. It says that the person is not capable of completely understanding the consequences of their actions, and it says that the person is not capable of functioning as an adult. (Although, I suspect that at this moment those young women are wishing that were true.)
I realize that the usage of "girl" and "boy" to describe young adults (and, not so young adults in some cultural settings) won't be ended simply because I get on my high horse whenever I see/hear it used. However, I have a hard time letting it go without saying something.
Ok. I'm through now, boys and girls, er ...... ladies and gentlemen. ;) Carry on.
Friday, March 02, 2007
A Splash of Paint
Well, the walls have been splashed with color. But the task's not completed. The den's finished and looks beautiful. The entry hallway is partially splashed, and the bright yellow is especially cheery. It shouldn't take too long to finish it. Most of the kitchen is gently painted with a soft white and looks fresh. The only part I couldn't get to there is filled with my piano and the one chair that didn't get relocated to the garage. Primer coats cover all those places that still need painting, so all that needs to happen is to show up in painting garb and start working.
And then there's the dining room.
The color is to be a rich, deep, purplish wine color. The first coat looked more like a watercolor wash than latex paint and used almost half a gallon of paint. For the second coat, I really loaded the paintbrush and had a difficult time getting it to cover the light spots. To put it mildly, the dining room sucks. The color isn't the color it's supposed to be. It looks almost like I painted with blood instead of latex paint. Gross, I know.
So I head back to the local paint store with gallon in hand to ask if perhaps I had a defective gallon of paint. There I learn that I should have been told about some kind of gray primer paint that helps "red toned" paints cover well. I also learn that in order to find out if it's actually defective paint (instead of defective information), I have to get the local paint company rep to actually come to my house and look at the walls. The local rep lives in Houston, and didn't answer his cellphone. *sigh* I hope I can get hold of him tomorrow. It puts a hold on my finishing the painting part of my 'return to home' project.
I'm currently not completely sure who I should be angry with - the store where I bought the paint or the paint company. Whichever, I'm not a happy camper! This was not what I needed this week. I think I'm going to just go over here and grump in the corner for a while. Don't mind me. I'll get over it!
And then there's the dining room.
The color is to be a rich, deep, purplish wine color. The first coat looked more like a watercolor wash than latex paint and used almost half a gallon of paint. For the second coat, I really loaded the paintbrush and had a difficult time getting it to cover the light spots. To put it mildly, the dining room sucks. The color isn't the color it's supposed to be. It looks almost like I painted with blood instead of latex paint. Gross, I know.
So I head back to the local paint store with gallon in hand to ask if perhaps I had a defective gallon of paint. There I learn that I should have been told about some kind of gray primer paint that helps "red toned" paints cover well. I also learn that in order to find out if it's actually defective paint (instead of defective information), I have to get the local paint company rep to actually come to my house and look at the walls. The local rep lives in Houston, and didn't answer his cellphone. *sigh* I hope I can get hold of him tomorrow. It puts a hold on my finishing the painting part of my 'return to home' project.
I'm currently not completely sure who I should be angry with - the store where I bought the paint or the paint company. Whichever, I'm not a happy camper! This was not what I needed this week. I think I'm going to just go over here and grump in the corner for a while. Don't mind me. I'll get over it!
Friday, February 23, 2007
Happy Happy Joy Joy
Timing is everything! Just last week I was feeling pretty down because the stuff with the house is taking forever. At least it seems that way. I've not slept in my own bed in about a year and a half. Truth is - that part's happened before, especially between churches. What's so blinking frustrating is that the bed is only about a mile and a half away and is ready and waiting for me to return. (May have to add a bit of water to the mattress, but that's not a biggie.) I realize I can't even begin to understand what it's like for those who lost everything in the hurricanes that happened in 2005; however, I am able to identify with those who have been displaced and are uncertain when they will be in their correct environment again. To be so close and so far away at the same time, to be living in limbo, can just plain sap the git-up-n-go out of a body. That's where I was last week.
Today? Today I bought paint! Gallons and gallons of paint! HAPPY! HAPPY! JOY! JOY!
You know what that means? One step closer to home. WOOHOO!!
Tomorrow I have friends coming over to my house to help me put those gallons of paint on the walls. Except for my bedroom, everything used to be white. Dull, boring white. Show every little smudge white. Couldn't hide the outline where they had a huge knick-knack shelf on the wall white. Miserable to clean white. (notice a trend here?)
Not anymore. Today I picked up colors like Warm Terra Cotta and Vintage Merlot and Glorious Gold and Autumn Maple and Angelic White and Soft Feather and Polar Bear. Just the names are pick-me-ups. And it all gets me one step closer to moving back home.
I didn't realize how much Her Horribleness had become a part of my identity until I was at those two meetings last week. Somehow, it rarely took me long to mention that I am still displaced. I'm looking forward to the day when that's no longer true. hmmmmm.....Wonder who I'll be then.
In the meantime ....... don't mind me! I'll just be doing my happy dance over here in the corner. *hums quietly with occasional outbursts of "happy happy joy joy" and a big smile*
Today? Today I bought paint! Gallons and gallons of paint! HAPPY! HAPPY! JOY! JOY!
You know what that means? One step closer to home. WOOHOO!!
Tomorrow I have friends coming over to my house to help me put those gallons of paint on the walls. Except for my bedroom, everything used to be white. Dull, boring white. Show every little smudge white. Couldn't hide the outline where they had a huge knick-knack shelf on the wall white. Miserable to clean white. (notice a trend here?)
Not anymore. Today I picked up colors like Warm Terra Cotta and Vintage Merlot and Glorious Gold and Autumn Maple and Angelic White and Soft Feather and Polar Bear. Just the names are pick-me-ups. And it all gets me one step closer to moving back home.
I didn't realize how much Her Horribleness had become a part of my identity until I was at those two meetings last week. Somehow, it rarely took me long to mention that I am still displaced. I'm looking forward to the day when that's no longer true. hmmmmm.....Wonder who I'll be then.
In the meantime ....... don't mind me! I'll just be doing my happy dance over here in the corner. *hums quietly with occasional outbursts of "happy happy joy joy" and a big smile*
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Dateline: Albuquerque, NM
I just realized it's been over a week since I've posted here. Things have been kind of busy. Right now I'm relaxing in the motel room after two meetings here, plus meeting some new "old" friends for dinner.
I like Albuquerque. At least, what I've seen of it. Getting here was somewhat exciting, since we arrived on a snowy day. They held the plane just as we got to the Houston runway because there was ice under the snow in Albuquerque. Guess they didn't want us to slide off the other end! I'm glad about that. We ended up arriving about two hours late, so that wasn't too bad. Some people ended up wrestling with snow at both ends of the trip, so didn't make it at all.
The snow was beautiful! First snow I've seen in about 4 years. I kept trying to get a snowball fight started, but no one wanted to join me. *pout* I'll have to admit that the stuff looked too pretty lying there on the grass and bushes, so I wasn't extremely disappointed when we didn't destroy the pristine view. And it's all about melted now.
My hotel room is on the side where you can look out and see mountains. *sigh* I wish I could take the view with me tomorrow. (and, of course, my camera broke before I left, so no pictures)
This afternoon I had the opportunity to meet a couple of online friends in real life. We wandered through Old Town a bit. Didn't buy anything, but there were some interesting items to see - some intriguing and beautiful windchimes, jewelry, art, and the like. Enjoyed the architecture too. Good meal. Good conversation.
Relaxing. Guess it's the first time I've had to just plain relax without anything that needed to be done right away, or really soon, in a while. Nice feeling. I think I'll see if there's anything to watch on tv. Nah. Maybe a long soak in the tub. Yeah! That's what I'll do! ahhhhhhhhh! Peace.
I like Albuquerque. At least, what I've seen of it. Getting here was somewhat exciting, since we arrived on a snowy day. They held the plane just as we got to the Houston runway because there was ice under the snow in Albuquerque. Guess they didn't want us to slide off the other end! I'm glad about that. We ended up arriving about two hours late, so that wasn't too bad. Some people ended up wrestling with snow at both ends of the trip, so didn't make it at all.
The snow was beautiful! First snow I've seen in about 4 years. I kept trying to get a snowball fight started, but no one wanted to join me. *pout* I'll have to admit that the stuff looked too pretty lying there on the grass and bushes, so I wasn't extremely disappointed when we didn't destroy the pristine view. And it's all about melted now.
My hotel room is on the side where you can look out and see mountains. *sigh* I wish I could take the view with me tomorrow. (and, of course, my camera broke before I left, so no pictures)
This afternoon I had the opportunity to meet a couple of online friends in real life. We wandered through Old Town a bit. Didn't buy anything, but there were some interesting items to see - some intriguing and beautiful windchimes, jewelry, art, and the like. Enjoyed the architecture too. Good meal. Good conversation.
Relaxing. Guess it's the first time I've had to just plain relax without anything that needed to be done right away, or really soon, in a while. Nice feeling. I think I'll see if there's anything to watch on tv. Nah. Maybe a long soak in the tub. Yeah! That's what I'll do! ahhhhhhhhh! Peace.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Love Is in the Air
Love is in the air! Valentine's Day is approaching and the ads are everywhere. Hallmark cards to mark "Hallmark moments". Chocolate. Jewelry. Special this and that. Has anyone else noticed that it's almost always HIM buying for HER? Materialism and one-way giving do not constitute Love.
What's interesting about the month of February this year is that we start off with a veritable orgy of how we're supposed to show our love for those closest to us and end with the beginning of a season that reminds us of what love really means.
Up until the 14th, it's almost impossible to avoid the message that the love we're supposed to show has to do with consumerism, and only for those closest to us. Do any of the Valentine's Day ads suggest that we help the needy, or do something to better the lives of the oppressed, or take a step to remove the prejudices and hatreds that exist? Believe it or not, you might even be able to spend some money to help bring these worthy goals, these acts of love, into existence. And isn't that the purpose of advertising? To get you to buy something? (Well, usually. There are some public service announcements out there to get you to change your behavior, but the ones that pay big bucks to media are about buying things.)
In this part of the country, after February 14th you'll continue to see ads for Mardi Gras parades, celebrations, and events. When I lived in Oklahoma, you got a little bit of spill from Louisiana, but not as much. Even then, the underlying purpose of Mardi Gras isn't particularly visible. It's the party that counts, not the fact that the next day is the "reason for the season".
Then comes Ash Wednesday. Does anyone recall ever seeing an ad for Ash Wednesday consumerism? Nope. That's because Ash Wednesday isn't about consumerism. It's about love. A very special love. A love that gave of itself entirely FOR US! Not the kind of love that we bandy about so casually around Valentine's Day, or seek so desperately, if we believe we don't have it. This is a love which looks at the worst humanity has ever done and is still willing to stand as mediator between us and God. In many ways, it's a kind of love that I'm not sure I really understand.
It is a kind of love we are called as Christians to seek to emulate 365 days a year, even if there is no way we'll ever be able to live up to it completely. On Ash Wednesday, over the centuries, Christians have gathered and received ashes on their foreheads to remind them that we've a long way to go to live in a manner which loves our neighbors as ourselves, AND recalls that Jesus didn't let us off the hook when it comes to those WE don't consider neighbors - those who are not near us, who are not like us, and are even our enemies.
Love IS in the air! I wonder how we'll choose to show it this year, and the years to come.
What's interesting about the month of February this year is that we start off with a veritable orgy of how we're supposed to show our love for those closest to us and end with the beginning of a season that reminds us of what love really means.
Up until the 14th, it's almost impossible to avoid the message that the love we're supposed to show has to do with consumerism, and only for those closest to us. Do any of the Valentine's Day ads suggest that we help the needy, or do something to better the lives of the oppressed, or take a step to remove the prejudices and hatreds that exist? Believe it or not, you might even be able to spend some money to help bring these worthy goals, these acts of love, into existence. And isn't that the purpose of advertising? To get you to buy something? (Well, usually. There are some public service announcements out there to get you to change your behavior, but the ones that pay big bucks to media are about buying things.)
In this part of the country, after February 14th you'll continue to see ads for Mardi Gras parades, celebrations, and events. When I lived in Oklahoma, you got a little bit of spill from Louisiana, but not as much. Even then, the underlying purpose of Mardi Gras isn't particularly visible. It's the party that counts, not the fact that the next day is the "reason for the season".
Then comes Ash Wednesday. Does anyone recall ever seeing an ad for Ash Wednesday consumerism? Nope. That's because Ash Wednesday isn't about consumerism. It's about love. A very special love. A love that gave of itself entirely FOR US! Not the kind of love that we bandy about so casually around Valentine's Day, or seek so desperately, if we believe we don't have it. This is a love which looks at the worst humanity has ever done and is still willing to stand as mediator between us and God. In many ways, it's a kind of love that I'm not sure I really understand.
It is a kind of love we are called as Christians to seek to emulate 365 days a year, even if there is no way we'll ever be able to live up to it completely. On Ash Wednesday, over the centuries, Christians have gathered and received ashes on their foreheads to remind them that we've a long way to go to live in a manner which loves our neighbors as ourselves, AND recalls that Jesus didn't let us off the hook when it comes to those WE don't consider neighbors - those who are not near us, who are not like us, and are even our enemies.
Love IS in the air! I wonder how we'll choose to show it this year, and the years to come.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
A Smile or Two
Back a few years ago, there was a young lady and her even younger boy-friend. For several years, as the young lady would spend hours at the younger friend's house getting her hair dyed in hope of even being noticed in roller skating competitions (you had to be a California blonde or the judges apparently weren't able to see you), the two would play. The young friend and young lady would build towers of blocks and knock them over, or play tag, or all the pretend games that were so much fun. The young friend asked, "Would you marry me?" The young lady said, "Maybe when you're older."
One day, the young lady met a young man and decided to get married. The young friend was really, really miffed. The young lady asked him to be the ringbearer at her wedding and, while he wasn't particularly happy that he wouldn't be the one getting married, he agreed and gleefully waved at the congregation as the young lady and young man were wed.
What neither of them knew was how prescient the young friend was. The young lady had no inkling that she would one day become a minister. Marriage, family, and perhaps a mundane job were all she was thinking of. HA! God, being the inscrutable joker God is, had a different plan. While I don't particularly believe that the wheels coming off of the marriage wagon were part of that plan, I do believe that God used the situation to steer me in the direction of seminary.
So here it is about 30 years later. The other day, the now older lady receives a phone call from her now older young friend. "Would you marry me?" is the question. However, this time he's asking me to perform his wedding to his lovely fiancee. *chuckle* "Of course," I said. But I didn't remind him that he'd already asked the question 30 years ago. Don't you just love God's sense of humor?
And Smile Two - I'm planning a Paint Party!! Even have a date!! The last Saturday in February should see splashes of color on walls and ceilings, and probably people! (If I'm painting, it's definitive that there will be paint on people - ME!) Minor snag in the moving back process, though, is that I have to replace the tile in my shower, some plumbing in the other bathroom, and my garbage disposal. Not insurmountable! And at least I'll get them done before moving in.
Keeping my fingers crossed, but it looks like I may be home for Easter! (not definite, but a light at the end of the tunnel) HOORAY!!
One day, the young lady met a young man and decided to get married. The young friend was really, really miffed. The young lady asked him to be the ringbearer at her wedding and, while he wasn't particularly happy that he wouldn't be the one getting married, he agreed and gleefully waved at the congregation as the young lady and young man were wed.
What neither of them knew was how prescient the young friend was. The young lady had no inkling that she would one day become a minister. Marriage, family, and perhaps a mundane job were all she was thinking of. HA! God, being the inscrutable joker God is, had a different plan. While I don't particularly believe that the wheels coming off of the marriage wagon were part of that plan, I do believe that God used the situation to steer me in the direction of seminary.
So here it is about 30 years later. The other day, the now older lady receives a phone call from her now older young friend. "Would you marry me?" is the question. However, this time he's asking me to perform his wedding to his lovely fiancee. *chuckle* "Of course," I said. But I didn't remind him that he'd already asked the question 30 years ago. Don't you just love God's sense of humor?
And Smile Two - I'm planning a Paint Party!! Even have a date!! The last Saturday in February should see splashes of color on walls and ceilings, and probably people! (If I'm painting, it's definitive that there will be paint on people - ME!) Minor snag in the moving back process, though, is that I have to replace the tile in my shower, some plumbing in the other bathroom, and my garbage disposal. Not insurmountable! And at least I'll get them done before moving in.
Keeping my fingers crossed, but it looks like I may be home for Easter! (not definite, but a light at the end of the tunnel) HOORAY!!
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