Slogging through

The listserv for the House of Bishops/Deputies had many posts today and last night following the statement from the House of Bishops meeting in New Orleans. I have been slogging through them as well as reading some headlines from newspapers in other cities and countries. No one can agree on exactly what the statement means. Clarity is not in the discussions. That decisions will be made for the Episcopal Church by General Convention 2009 is the only consensus that seems to be forthcoming - and even then some disagree.

Slogging is not something at which I am good. I like to leap tall buildings and stop speeding bullets. Over the years, I have learned that, if I have to slog, the resultant knowledge is generally not worth the effort I have put into it. So, I don't do much slogging now.

And, that's a lie. I am slogging through recovery from the very serious respiratory condition that I have had for some time. I've hit a plateau brought on by stress of moving, renovation of the house, my godson-in-law's death, changing doctors, losing weight (down to 183.5 today - Since May 17th, I've lost 13.8 pounds with Weight Watchers. My buddies have lost much more, but I'm slogging along with this also.

Today I met a new psychiatrist to prescribe medicine for my depression and anxiety - been taking meds for this for some years now - thanks be to God. But, she suggested a change - rather an addition - that makes 12 prescription medications I'm taking now. Bleah. I don't want to admit that I need more help than I have with my present medicine. I don't want to admit that I have bad reactions to just increasing the dosage of my present medicine. I don't want to admit that I can't control this episodic depression myself. I'm like a diabetic in denial. So, I took the blasted pill tonight after I checked it out on the internet. I'm not happy about it. I hear my Mom saying that I could make myself run a temperature if I were bored with school. And, I hear her saying that I have everything a person could want, and she doesn't understand why I'm not happy.

Well, I am happy. I am happier than I've ever been in my life. But, that doesn't have anything to do with my anxiety and depression. The episodic depression hits for short periods - 2 hours, 8 hours, 2 days, and then it's gone. Retail therapy helps; talk therapy helps; group meetings help, but sometimes, I just isolate and sit there staring at the computer screen solitaire game or out the window at all for which I should be thankful - feeling inert - dead to emotion. I can still make my gratitude list; I can still pray even if I feel it goes no further than the ceiling or the walls. I can even laugh or cry or hug or be angry - but the feelings are fleeting and don't go very deep.

Right now, I'm resigned to trying this new medicine. As I said, I don't want to do it. I hate taking medicine. I don't want my body to "fail" me like this. I don't want my mind, my control to "fail" me like this. But, the reality is that I probably need this medicine or some other to lessen the frequency of episodic depression. Bleah.

Okay, now I'm off the pity pot. I like the psychiatrist. I'm not as tired as I expected to be. I'm glad to have a bed, a partner, and two crazy cats (or is that redundant?).

Here are a couple of pictures of how the destruction before the renovation is going. Also discovered a large wet spot in my bedroom where the toilet is apparently leaking - don't know the extent of that damage yet - but we wouldn't have found it if we hadn't done this renovation. And, I got to slog a few blows with the sledge hammer today myself - so that felt great!


Kitchen going, going









Gone

Thanks be to God

The ocean is beautiful, and worse things could happen than waking up to the sound of waves lapping along the beach. However, the condo looks as if a cyclone had hit it with all the open boxes and things strewn around. Not that I care this morning. We have paths around the stuff. The beds are clean and fresh; the sofa is accessible; obviously the computer is set up and working again. We can get to the refrigerator and the trash can. What more do we need?

I've been thinking about types of spirituality and how different types of personalities gravitate toward one type or another (or more than one). I know a little (verry little admittedly) about several different types of spirituality, and I know that I wander among them - some fitting at one time and some another. I've used lecto divina (sp?), meditation, centering prayer, discernment prayer, music, silence, art, scripture repetition, memorization, sleep, floor scrubbing, knitting - all kinds of things to help me focus on being or being with God.

Today I'm so tired that I just think I'll let God seep into whatever parts of me that are open. The hectic time is over; rest time is here. In spite of this being Tuesday, sabbath time is here. The ease of the ocean waves erases my anxiety. I need nothing.

thanks be to God.

Moving

Arrrggggghhhh!

May Light Perpetual Shine Upon Bill

Bill at the Pentecost Picnic several years ago
At 6:30 am, my goddaughter called and said her husband Bill had a heart attack and died. He was in the hospital with respiratory complications and a long history of heart and respiratory problems. Four years ago they told us that he might live six months. I wanted to jump in my car and go racing the four plus hours to get to my goddaughter.

But, I was the only person in the shop today. If I had left, the shop would not have opened, and I would have failed in one of my promises. So, I went to work.

I made the appropriate phone calls for Jenny, my goddaughter, to our priest, to the pastoral care committee, and to the crematory. Her daughter Missy was having hysterics - age 13 going on 5 mentally. Her other daughter is in a juvenile psychiatric home and dropped the phone screaming when she was told. Her son is doing okay but very sad.

We are moving out of our house for remodeling (wish they were remodeling me, but I've heard that's an inside job). The movers are coming Monday to put everything into storage. We are moving Saturday and Sunday and Tuesday, etc.

I have appointments with two new doctors (my previous doctors moved out of town) on Thursday. Anxiety. Will they understand? Will they listen?

Jenny wants me there for the funeral; so when I got home from work, I found that they have set the funeral for October 7 at the regular 11 am service. It was Bill's favorite service; he loved the music and the communion. I sponsored him for confirmation and taught his confirmaton classes. I loved Bill; he was a Vietnam veteran suffering deeply from post traumatic stress syndrome. I've had to help intervene when he was having a bad flashback. I've listened to his wonderful stories of his youth - over and over again. I've talked with nurses and social workers and .... Well, you get the picture. Although Bill was older than me, he called me "Mom"; he was my godson, too. He was beloved of God.

Today when I talked with Jenny the television wasn't blaring in the background and Bill wasn't telling Jenny what to say to me. I miss that. And, I will miss Bill.

How kind of God, though, to help them choose a date for the funeral that will allow me to be there and to stay a few days. To comfort and be comforted. To cry with Jenny and hug on Missy. They are family. And a time that will allow me to do the things I need to do for me.

I admit that I still want to jump in the car and go to be with them. But, that would not be taking care of me, and I just jumped Eileen about taking care of herself first. I still don't have a lot of energy from my respiratory problems...and I doubt that I could even make that drive now as tired as I am.

Okay, I'm rambling. My apologies. Please pray for my godfamily.

Of Course I Could Be In NY not OCICBW

Some of this wild and crazy group of bloggers who found one another through MadPriest of OCICBW fame, are meeting in NYC on October 22. I can't be there, but you can find information here. Unformately, I don't the mad one himself will be there, but lots of entertaining people will be.

Just stuff I've been doing instead of blogging

Been busy this past week with my cousin and his family from Mississippi. Pretty nifty all around. Two years ago, I didn't think I had any family. Now, cousin, wife, son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter are visiting and treating me like royalty.

We got in some good seafood at the local places (though I'm not sure any of the seafood was local); the girls and I did some thrift shopping; they cooked venison for us one night....so good! And, they got in some beach time. The men went shopping at a couple of different "outfitters" shops and came home with shirts and shoes at a bargain price. We talked about family - seems I am the matriarch of the family now - the one left with all the stories about how granddad had an affair with his sister-in-law and no one in the family heard from them after that. And, the bootlegging! I saw the remains of the still one day when I was prowling about the woods. And, stories about our grandmother and grandfather. Cousin also loved my Mom and Dad; so I told stories about them, too. And, they told me about others on their mother's side of the family.

As we were driving along after thrift shopping, we saw a sign that said "Open Church" and comments that none of us had ever seen that as a name before. I opined that the church would probably try to change me majorly if I showed up at their door (this being a very conservative and fundamentalist area). Cousin's wife looked at me bewildered. Then I said, "You know, because I'm a lesbian." Her eyes got wider and she said, "You know, I never even think about that when I'm with you and her." We all had a good laugh because she's pretty fundamentalist, too. And, we seemed to agree that covenanted relationships are not really the subject of homosexuality in the Bible.

So, now it's back to packing to move out for the renovation. So far, I've done two dish crates of McCarty pottery - pottery made with Mississippi clay in Merigold, Miss. They have a website, but you can't see much of the pottery in the pictures. So here's a picture of some McCarty taken from the Oxford Floral Company site. Most of my pottery is the cobalt blue, which you cannot really see in this picture either (maybe up high on the back shelf), and, since it is already packed, I can't take a picture. I have lots of McCarty animals - many of them in the brown color with tinges of cobalt. I'll post some pictures once we are back in the house. I know you're gonna love the stuff.

And, I've played lots of solitaire computer games - found a new one called Snood, but my scores leave much to be desired.

Lots of friends, online and offline, needing prayers; so I'm praying a lot, sending virtual hugs their ways.

My partner has gone to a weekend conference in another city with an organization where she is not "out"; but she's enjoying the camaraderie with others who love some of the things that she loves.

So, I'm blessedly alone right now. Well, me, the cats, the birds on the feeders on the deck, the creek, the quiet. Ahhhhh.

Enough gossip. Hope each of you is having a good weekend.

Bsp Howe writes to his diocese

A letter from Bishop Howe to his diocese. Howe is a conservative who is striving to hold the church together. He is certainly a man of principle, openness and honesty, and I admire him even as I disagree with him. Please pray for him as well.

The Moment of Decision
…according to John
From the September, 2007 Central Florida Episcopalian

Dear Diocesan Family,

At the end of this month the House of Bishops will hold its annual fall meeting in New Orleans. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, and several members of the Primates’ Joint Standing Committee will be with us at the unanimous request of our Bishops. It is still theoretically possible there will be some surprises, but nearly every observer of the events of the past several years is convinced that a watershed moment is at hand.

In their meeting in Dar es Salaam in February the Primates asked the American House of Bishops to clarify the decisions of last year’s General Convention, which, in turn were The Episcopal Church’s response to the recommendations of the 2004 Windsor Report and subsequent requests from the Primates themselves. More specifically, they asked our Bishops to give “unequivocal assurances” that we will not consent to the election of another noncelibate homosexual Bishop, and we will not authorize or permit any (more) “same-sex blessings.” And they set a deadline of September 30 for our response.
Nearly thirty of our Bishops – myself among them – have given the assurances requested, but a larger number than that have said they will never agree to these requests, and more than a third of the Bishops have yet to declare themselves. (Note: The Episcopal Church has never officially authorized the blessings, but some Bishops have done so in their own Dioceses.)

Everyone hopes that clarity and understanding will be improved on all sides when the Archbishop meets with us, but I know of no one who expects that at the end of the meeting the unequivocal assurances will have been given by the House as a whole.

Archbishop Williams will need to consult with the other Primates to consider and evaluate whatever responses we will have given them. The Archbishop has recently said he is “hopeful, but not optimistic” that the Anglican Communion will be able to stay together after that point.

What this will mean for parishes, Dioceses, and The Episcopal Church as a whole is not yet clear. There is, however, increasing talk among several of our Central Florida clergy about the possibility of their declaring their “separation from The Episcopal Church” and their seeking “realignment” with some other Province of the Anglican Communion. They would hope to take as many of their parishioners with them as possible, and they would try to retain the property belonging to those congregations.

If they decide to do this it will be extremely messy, difficult, and costly in every way imaginable.

Both the canons of The Episcopal Church and the state law of Florida stipulate that congregational properties are held “in trust” for the Diocese and the national Episcopal Church. This means that even if every single person in a given congregation wanted to leave they could not simply “take the property with them.”

(You may remember my discussion at our Convention last January of the Church of the New Covenant in Winter Springs, in which we had precisely that scenario, and CNC ended up purchasing the property from the Diocese at “fair market value,” without interest, over a period of 30 years. But that agreement only came after we determined the Diocese had no alternative use for the property.)

I believe that in virtually every one of our congregations, even those in which the desire to separate is widespread, there are many who do not wish to leave The Episcopal Church or the Diocese of Central Florida. If those who desire to remain can become a viable congregation, that congregation becomes the continuing body of that parish, with a claim upon the property.

So: I foresee an extremely difficult period ahead of us, in which congregations may be pulled apart, and arguments over property become horribly distracting and costly.

I am committed to being as gracious and generous as possible to those who, for conscience sake, believe they must separate. But I am pledged to stand alongside those who, for conscience sake, choose to remain, and I am committed to the rebuilding of congregations and this Diocese in the wake of any such departures.

Pray for the Church.


Love to every one of you,
John W. Howe

Work, Renovation, Visitors

I worked all day today. All day alone in the yarn shop with lots of lookers, a few people who needed more help than I could give, a few people who knew exactly what they needed and where it was, a friend who brought me lunch, one woman who would be better off shopping at Wal-Mart or Michael's, a weaver who brought me fresh basil, and way too much time to look around the shop and discover new yarns and projects I'd like to try.

And, I was very tired at the end of the day. Going from being an invalid in February and March to working in September is a long way. But, it's so much fun. It's even more fun when I can help someone.

Then, I went to Weight Watchers, gained six tenths of a pound - understand why- emotional eating last week - fits of depression that I tried to fix with french fries or some other high calorie/high fat stuff. Not worried. This too shall pass.

Got the almost final figures on the renovation, approved the plans, waiting for the contract, got boxes for packing, notified the movers, have a list of things to do before we move to the beach. Must take all the stuff mentioned in the previous post to the recycling center.

First Cousin, wife, son, daughter-in-law, and four year old arriving this Sunday. They will stay at the beach since we don't have that much room in our house - and possibly not enough patience for a four-year-old, even if she's as cute as can be. Looking forward to seeing them so much. They are bringing venison and fish to cook for me. What fun!!! I can tell already that I may skip Weight Watchers next week. Tee Hee. We have thrift shopping to do, and stories to tell, and gossip to catch up on. And, just sitting on the porch at night talking or being quiet together. They're good folk, and I'm am thrilled that they think enough of me to visit. Last year, when I tried to make the trip to see them - well, I guess it was in the Spring - I got sick in Atlanta and couldn't go any further. Spent three days in a hotel room in bed before I could even come back home. So, now we get to visit.

And, the weather is cooling down some even though we may get rain from the tropical storm off the coast. It will be gone by the time my visitors get here.

And, the boat is fixed and my partner has repaired a good bit of the deck and will put up the handrails Saturday. Yahoo! Good for her!

And, I am still having brief severe bouts of depression - lasts 2-3 hours. Have an appointment with a new psychiatrist later this month. Will talk about this continuing episodic depression and see if I need to change meds.

I get so excited about everything that's happening! And, then I crash. Part of it is tired. Part of it is not eating right - I don't think cheeseburger and fries count as eating right. But, most of it is just a cyclic depression for me. Happens small time every summer, and about every 5 years or so gets a bit worse.

But, hey, folks! I'm okay. Every day is different than the one before it; so all I have to do when I get depressed is wait it out. Things will change. Thanks be to God.

Moving on to a different life

I threw away all my seminary notes (except my favorite Systematic Theology) today. I culled the books I had stored in the garage and am recycling a lot of fiction that I thought was irreplaceable - it no longer interests me. I did save all my Jules Verne books - not that they're valuable, but they mean something to me. I remember reading them when I was very young.

I did save all those folders marked "personal" or "pretties" or "humor" because the pieces of paper in them were too many and too small to sort while sitting in the garage. That's half of a small plastic tub. The very large laundry basket is filled to overflowing with paper to be recycled. I saved the folders so that I can put them on FreeCycle.


And, now there are two more filing cabinets full of my files and notes from seminary. I'm going to need lots of recycling bins...actually we have to take this kind of stuff to the recycle center; so I usually put it in paper grocery bags. But, I have three large plastic tubs ready for things that need to be stored in them instead of in paper boxes. And, I found my great-grandmother's wedding ring quilt. It's pink predominantly; so I don't use it. I don't much care for pink - unless it's a very bright hot pink. This isn't. Perhaps I'll give it to the cousins when they visit next week.

Also found the coverlet that Grandmother Moreland made from sheep they grew, wool they carded and spun, and then they weaved the coverlet. That's one reason I want to learn weaving - and I can do that where I work now. I'm so excited about it. However, I'll probably do more Guatemalan looking weavings than the traditional blue/cream of Grandmother Moreland - the prim old woman who let me comb her long white hair when I was only four or five. And, her brothers called her Nannie. Can you imagine? A 90 year old woman called Nannie? So, when I'm 90, I want y'all to call me Margi, okay?

And, although my hair is white, it won't be long enough to comb - short and curly. But, someday I'll pass along "Nannie's" small cedar chest - just big enough for jewelry to one of her great, great granddaughters.

Too many boxes in the garage are still marked as my "Junk". As you can see one is marked "Childhood Useless Junk". I'm not touching that box this go-round. That's for another day. And, if you can figure out everything on the other tub, I'll know what's in it. Otherwise, I guess that it is bandanas and scarves - on a day when I couldn't spell.


(Update at 5 pm: I went back and finished the two filing cabinets this afternoon. And, Yogi, I found our college annual! LOL Plus I have another laundry basket of recycle paper.)

But, the significance of all this cleaning out is that I feel myself shifting from being the seminary graduate/lay minister to being something new and different. I won't need the commentaries and the notes. I'll need different equipment and preparation. Although I'm not certain I'll be doing in this new life, I know it will be different from the past ones. What fun! A new discovery!

So, come along with me, the best is yet to be!

Another Meme

Thanks to Missy over at Missy's Big Fish Stories

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
I was named after my father's former girlfriend, Margaret Ann McDowell. I finally met her at his funeral, and she is/was a wonderful lady.

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED
Yesterday when I had an asthma attack while trying to pull morning glory vines off my hydrangeas. The temp was cool, but the humidity was high. So frustrating.

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING
Thanks to many years of practice, I have nice handwriting - though it deteriorates as I get older or more anxious.

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
boiled ham

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
Godchildren - three or so - all adults with children - one is older than me

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
Yeah. I think I'm attracted to people like me.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
I've been known to.

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS
Yes.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
Gah. No. That would send me into a panic driven seizure.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
Cranberry Almond Crunch

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
Sometimes

12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?
Yes. I can lift and move a weight of about 100 pounds. And, I can get through most anything as long as I can cry afterward.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
Vanilla

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
Are they smiling - that includes the whole face and persona - real or fake smile.

15. RED OR PINK?
RED

16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOUR SELF?
I am not as healthy as I would like to be, and I am limited in what I can do to improve that.

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
Of those who are dead - my brother and my friends Bill, who taught me about codependency, and Alison, my seminary buddy. Of those who are living - Jennifer who listens and David who is so totally different than me but with whom I had long talks.

18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU?
Memes are for those who want to do them, but this is interesting.

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Khaki shorts and bright yellow crocs

20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
I just ate a Weight Watchers Toffee Crunch ice cream on a stick. Only 2 points.

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
the whirr of the ceiling fan

22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Blue or Red - most any primary color

23. FAVORITE SMELLS?
The smell of the ocean, fresh cut grass, fresh bread, roast turkey, clover

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
My friend Paula

25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU?
Yes!!! She is a great friend.

26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH
Don't watch much sports, but occasionally tennis or olympics stuff

27. HAIR COLOR?
white with a touch of mottled black/grey/white on the crown

28. EYE COLOR?
blue

29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
No.

30. FAVORITE FOOD?
Turkey, cornbread dressing and cranberry sauce - but lots of others, too.

31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Happy endings!

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
No idea.

33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
Blue

34. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Winter.

35. HUGS OR KISSES?
Hugs are very comforting and easy to exchange

36. FAVORITE DESSERT?
Chocolate mousse and tiramisu

37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
No idea

38. LEAST LIKELY TO Respond?
No idea

39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
Eating in the Light of the Moon

40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
Native Alaskan Frog design, black on blue

41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?
Don't watch TV

42. FAVORITE SOUND?
I love you.

43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES
The Stones!

44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
Newfoundland

45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
I must have "listener" in neon lights on my forehead because people talk to me.

46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
Clarksdale, Misssissippi

47. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK?
Everyone.

Awake, asleep, thinking, dreaming, visions

I'm awake. I wish i were asleep in that big bed with my partner. I am awake, however. Sometimes my brain just doesn't slow down, even with medication for anxiety. Perhaps creativity and wonder just slip into the place where anxiety was - and they leave no room for sleep. More and more ideas just keep flooding in. More ideas than I could ever embody, visualize or complete in this lifetime. How to pick and choose.

I think I'll choose bed with cool sheets and purring kitties and soft pillows - whether I sleep or wake.

Theology books - you pay postage

I have been cleaning out my bookcases. Here are some books that I don't need any longer. If you will pay postage, I'll be glad to share them with you.

Christology of the Later Fathers, ed. Edward Hardy
The Cost of Discipleship - Dietrich Bonhoeffer
"Toward Full Communion" and "Concordat of Agreement" Lutheran Episcopal Dialogue, III
Two Types of Faith - Martin Buber
The Problem of God - John Murray, SJ
Apologetics and the Biblical Christ - Avery Dulles, SJ
Models of Revelation - Avery Dulles, SJ
Metaphorical Theology - Sallie McFague
The Apathetic and Bored Church Member - John S. Savage
Activating the Passive Church - Lyle Shaller
Being Christian in the Age of AIDS

If there are other older theology books that you are craving, let me know. I don't preach or teach any longer; so I might be willing to part with more.

Book postage is usually small.

email me at marsmoore at suddenlink dot net or leave a comment on this post.

Ghost Ridin' Grandma

Got this from Eileen, and I want to do it. But, my Prius won't move without my foot on the accelerator. Bah! Shall I borrow my partner's red convertible for this?

Just a few words

The estimates are in on our house renovation, and the whole thing appears to be doable. Now, the question is "Do I want to renovate the house?" or "Do I want to go see the polar bears?" Maybe the polar bears in a couple of years.

Cohen's "Hallelujah"

This is one of the best covers of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" that I've ever heard.

Mom and the figs

Okay, Piscosours has a short entry about fresh figs, and that conjured up another image of my mother. She lived in a house on a hillside. The side of the house toward the back had a wall with fig bushes (trees) growing about 2 stories high. Now, Mom loved figs. She ate them fresh; she canned them; she made "strawberry preserves" from them using strawberry gelatin; she stewed them and ladled them over hot steaming biscuits.

But, my finest memory of her and figs is that one day she wanted to get all the figs off the bush before the birds got them. So, she got the boys at the cable company where she worked to bring around the cherry picker - you know, that lift thing that a person can stand and work on a platform. She climbed into that lift and worked her way around the fig tree - all the way to the top - picking off those wonderful figs that she loved.

Maybe I did inherit some "derring-do" from her, huh?

Ten Things Meme

I just rediscovered this meme and thought I would share it with you. You may participate if you wish. Using these categories, you follow each beginning statement with 10 different ending of your own...ten things. So here goes....

I have lived in Mississippi, Arizona, Tennessee, Alabama, South Dakota, Connecticut, Massachusetts, North Carolina, Florida, and Bermuda.

I have witnessed the protests at the court house following the shooting of Martin Luther King Jr in Memphis; St. Anne’s Episcopal Church in Winston-Salem, NC, winning the trophy for best float in the PRIDE parade, the arrest of undocumented immigrants, the abandonment of a child by its mother at a soup kitchen, the face of a baby only 15 minutes old held in my arms (my nephew), the death of a close friend from AIDS, the space shuttle lift off in both day and night; the riots at Ole Miss when James Meredith was admitted there as the first black student; the counting of ballots at a city election; the death of a woman with Alzheimer’s from starvation because she no longer knew how to swallow.

I have heard Maya Angelou read her poetry; Peter, Paul and Mary/Joan Baez/James Taylor/Eric Clapton sing (not at the same concert); my father preach an excellent sermon while drunk; my mother cry; my best friend sing and play the guitar the day before he died; a cat purring next to me; a lion roar (albeit in a zoo); the sound of a jet boat’s exhaust/rumbling for almost an hour at which time I was ready to throw rocks at the driver; the trumpets on the organ in St. John the Divine when I was right in front of them; the silence in the eye of a hurricane; the laughter of children.

I have lost my fear of spiders (unless they are actually on me); my way while on a trip and driven an hour before I realized I was going the wrong direction; all of my immediate blood family; my godson to cocaine; my concern about what people think about me (most of the time); my respect for many super-stars; my desire for Coca-Cola every day; my faith in God for a while; two husbands to divorce; my desire to drink liquor.

I have found the love of my life; a happiness that I never dreamed existed; therapists to help me over the rough spots of memories and the problems they trigger in everyday life; medication that helps me feel well; doctors who care about my health and do things to make me well; great joy in riding a jet ski; peace in watching a creek and the ocean; that money can make a difference in people’s lives; friends/family of choice that make my life great; and music for all occasions.

I love bread; 70s rock music; my partner; our home; the little red Prius; thrift shopping; clothes, writing; two very spoiled cats who live with us; and people.

I can drive a semi; set type by hand; take award-winning photographs, make jewelry; tell stories; do fund raising; lift 100 pounds; cry in public; talk about intimate things with strangers and friends (their things or mine); stick to a budget.

I loathe gloating; cooked spinach; the smell of cinnamon; large cruise ships; lies; bass stereo sounds that vibrate my chest; war; stupidity; people who talk all the time; my inability to adapt to change sometimes; ?

I hope to skid into heaven laughing all the way; to do a bit more traveling before I’m too old and stiff to go; to maintain my friendships; the “family stuff” will have meaning for a generation without the stories; this thunderstorm cools off the temperature a little bit; to have a good night’s sleep;

I am trying to lose weight for the first time in my life; to choose my volunteer activity carefully; to take care of my health; to trust God; to be faithful in my promises to my partner and my friends; to be a good steward of all my blessings; to be grateful even when I’m depressed; not to scream at the cat when he irritates me; not to worry about things past or things future.

Reflections on Dear Mom

Liz Zivanov (on the HOBD listserv) discussed a dialogical sermon about “Where was God in the earthquake in Peru?” She asked some questions that are relevant to my thinking lately, and I’ve adapted them as a follow-up to my letter to Mom.

What is the motivation for the original question?
Well, that’s a bummer. I have to figure out why I’m feeling this way about Mom – not just because I actually felt that way then and allowed my perception of her messages to continue even though she’s dead. I have to figure out my motivation for writing and the source of the pain right now. Why am I thinking about her manipulation of me so many years ago? Why does that make me feel bad? Am I reliving the pain? In the retelling, do I let a little bit of go that doesn’t return? My motivation is to stop the pain – that’s also why I overeat and go on binge buying sprees (not big ones and usually in thrift shops). I want to stop hearing the messages that I internalized over the years. I want to close the gap between the way Mom acted and what she said. That’s part of the “hole in me”.

Are we talking about God’s justice or is there something else that’s going on (like, “That’s not fair.”)
Ooooooh, I wonder how long I’ve been blaming God for letting her make me feel lowly. Yeah, I realize that I can change some of that as an adult – letting her continue to make me feel lowly is not a choice, but I can do things to mitigate that. But, where is God in all this? Where was God when she made me listen to Daddy drunkenly rant and rave so that she could get things done? I don’t like the answer. I want to blame it all on Mom and God. But, the truth is that I know God was right there with all of us. God felt my horror; God cried in her dishpan with her; God sat on Dad’s shoulder and grieved for/with the addict. No, life isn’t fair. Humans have free will that is not always God’s will, and we can make life hell for one another – most especially those we love.

What are our expectations of God’s intervention in the world?
I do believe that God intervenes in the world, but I don’t know how or why or when. I don’t know how prayer affects God’s intervention if at all. I know there were times when I expected God to strike Dad dead for the harm he did to us. But, naw, didn’t happen that way. Pretty messy way Dad died, but not God’s fault – just the result of being drunk. My expectations of God’s intervention have decreased substantially over the years though I am still amazed when my prayers are answered. Even little ones like finding my keys or the directions to where I’m supposed to be.

Is God responsible for what happened?
No.

Is my tragedy worse because it was me?
It’s my tragedy and the pain of it is mine. Someone else may have more pain, different pain, less pain, extended pain, but it’s not my pain. My pain is real, was real all through my life and is reborn when certain events happen to trigger my memories. Don’t demean my pain because you think some else’s pain is worse. Don’t tell me about someone who had no feet if I have no shoes. That doesn’t put shoes on my feet. Wash my feet and massage them, and give me shoes if you can. Then go to the one with no feet and do whatever needs to be done, but don’t dismiss me and my pain because someone else’s may be worse.

Is there a difference between an Act of God and a natural disaster and God’s will?
I’m not sure how to define an Act of God, everyday miracles maybe, but disasters? I don’t think so. I don’t believe that God wills bad things to happen to anyone. I don’t know why we have natural disasters – some of our choices through the years have created climate changes that begat disasters, but things happen and we don’t always know why.

How do we view death in light of these questions and our faith?
I’m interpreting this question to mean the loss of something precious – the loss of joy – the loss of life – not necessarily the actual bodily death of a person. We die a little each time we recognize a loss. Recognizing my Mom’s humanity was a death for me. Praying the “Our Father” after listening to my Dad was a death for me – the death of God as male. Interpreting well-intentioned advice as a put-down is/was a death for me – the death of my dignity as a person.

But, God came to earth and lived as a human just like me. Think about his mother’s nagging at the wedding, his mother’s carping at him while he was preaching and healing. Think about his grief at the loss of his friend Lazarus. Think about God’s pain as a human. I do and remember that where I am, God is and has been. Where I go, God is there and has been there. So death is not the end. Tomorrow will be different.

‘Night y’all.

My Liberal Identity:

You are a Peace Patroller, also known as an anti-war liberal or neo-hippie. You believe in putting an end to American imperial conquest, stopping wars that have already been lost, and supporting our troops by bringing them home.

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Thanks to Pseudopiskie

You're South Africa!

After almost endless suffering, you've finally freed yourself
from the oppression that somehow held you back.  Now your diamond in the
rough is shining through, and the world can accept you for who you really are.
 You were trying to show who you were to the world, but they weren't interested
in helping you become that until it was almost too late.  Suddenly you're
a very hopeful person, even if you still have some troubles.


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