Yo Yo Ma, Lectio Devina, American Violets...

48, 64, 179, 2, 22, 12, 6, 10, 5, 3, 2, 1.. These are some of my numbers. Meaningless to you, they reflect some of the parameters of my reality. They are a very few facts that tell you nothing about who I am, how I experience life and the quality of woman I am. We can not know each other through our statistics and we can not know God by the numbers.

What do Yo Yo Ma, Lectio Devina and American Violets have in common? Last Tuesday, still early in withdrawal from Effexor, my blessed mother held her breath and her tongue as I drove us downtown to see the cellist Yo Yo Ma in concert with the Houston Symphony. Most of us live our lives as an obligation or trial. Yo Yo Ma lived every measure, felt every note. When others were playing he moved to their music, encouraged them smiling, nodding, swaying. His passion for the music brought the entire symphony to a higher level.

Life must be lived as a prayer and beauty appreciated where we find it. I have always tried to be good, to do the right thing. My life, my children do not fit into the narrow definition we have accepted of success. I think we lose our divinity in our quest for conformance. Maybe that is what makes medicating ourselves and our sons acceptable. We are all unique, special and individual. God did not make us to conform to the world.

Excuses, excuses, excuses (or) Holy Crap Batman

One in three American women are taking anti-depressants. If it isn't you, it is someone you know. If your doctor tells you need one of the anti-anxiety or anti-depressant drugs, ask lots of questions, do your research and then talk to someone who has taken them AND stopped.

I'm way off topic but I need to share what has been going on. I've been writing much, much less often than I had promised myself and feel like I've let myself and you down. It seems to me like I offer many, many excuses for not being or doing what I had promised or what you, quite possibly, expected. My dad teases me with the line, "excuses, excuses, excuses" when I explain why things didn't go as planned. I feel like I've been making a lot of excuses by way of explanation.

Last month, I had my first appointment with my new physician. She read my list of symptoms and said, "one word: menopause." Oh, yippee! Not like it was a big suprise but it was startling to have my new state of being confirmed so abruptly. I can't take hormones to soften the symptoms so when I was offered an anti-depressant I thought, "why not?"

It took me weeks to adjust to the meds. I won't go into the full side show of symptoms I wandered through. If you were to search on Effexor side effects you'd have a pretty good picture of what I experienced. It occurred to me somewhere in the midst of this symptom odyssey that I hadn't asked the plan to come off medication.

If you don't read Olive Branch Bloggings I suggest you start. Sara has saved my ass more than once. This time, by sharing her own struggles, she pulled my tit out of the wringer. That's an Okie-ism: doing laundry used to be hot, sweaty business so women wore house dresses and little underneath. As the repetitive work of pulling the clothes out of the washer and putting them into the wringer wore on through the day, minds began to drift and if the house dress was pulled with the wet clothes into the wringer, so also the bare breast underneath. Old wringer washers could only be turned off by unplugging them. If you aren't paying attention you might get your tit caught in the wringer. If you get your tit caught in the wringer you are in an embarrassing, painful situation... unless you have a good friend to pull the plug. Sara pulled the plug.

In my teens and early 20's I stopped and started many mind/mood altering chemicals. I would have never believed anyone who claimed that at 48 I would deal with the kind of soul wrenching, debilitating drug effects I have wrestled with recently. I am angry. Really, really pissed. I did not know that by trying to relieve normal symptoms of life change I could traumatize myself and my family in this way.

I have only taken the stuff for a few weeks. My heart breaks for all who were not warned. The only reason I knew to stop, was because Sara threw a flag up. We are medicating our kids for ADD and women for depression. Why? Isn't what we have a cultural problem?

Prayers for the lost

I'm celebrating my birthday this week. My family indulged me yesterday, today and will tomorrow. I've sat by the pool in my jammies, drinking wine, eating strawberries and reading a vampire romance novel, enjoyed barbeque pork ribs and cole slaw and watched goofy girl movies. Today, I'm in Galveston at the San Luis resort enjoying a fabulous view of the gulf, walks on the beach, great food and more trashy reading. I'm a very lucky girl.

My room is on the 16th floor overlooking the gulf. I have no idea how I was upgraded to the top floor, consierge level of the resort. From here I have a bird eye view of the beach. I know that is true because the pelicans fly in from below me and cross at eye level to ride the currents on their hunt.

I am in complete appreciation of the wonder, power and mystery of God. I walked the beach today. It's not the first time this year but it was different. This is the stormy season on the north Texas gulf coast. Not hurricane season. That starts in June. Unlike our summer hurricanes, the spring and fall storms originate in the north. Today the gulf and sky were the color of grey flannel, the waves crested in beige foam and left white lace wakes. Maybe because of the change of currents or winds, there is a startling amount of debris on the beach.

This is not my first time here after Hurricane Ike. I am not a macabre tourist in this town. Like the rest of Houston, Galveston is my extended neighborhood. It has been suprising how much progress has been made here following the devastation. Today, however, it has been suprising what the sea is giving back. The beaches are full of rebar, concrete, broken plastic. I saw a 30 gallon trash can buried in the sand, a wooden door stuck in the rocks, building facing bricks along the beach. Tonight it's raining again. I wonder what else we be stirred out of the gulf or washed further away.

More than a hundred people remain missing. My prayers are with them and thier families and those who are still recovering from the losses of their homes and property. It could have been any of us.

Stand up, sit down, kneel... oops

Well, who knew. Sometimes I get a good dose of just how much I have left to learn. Yesterday, I entered full communion with the Roman Catholic Church, feeling very much a part of the community. This morning I attended weekday mass for the first time. Maybe I should have anticipated that the weekday format would be different. Clearly I am an entering freshman, at best. There is much to know.

I live to learn and grow. I love comfort and laughter. Very often the two combine in unexpected ways or are at odds in extremely unpleasant ways. I will be 48 years old this week and find myself in the position of remaking myself...again. When I was young, I thought I would be fully baked by now. Yesterday, I thought I was on my way. Today I begin again.

Thank you for joining me on this new journey. It will be a long strange trip. I promise we will laugh along the way.

One holy catholic and apostolic Church

I've been asked recently if I have enjoyed the process leading up to becoming a full member of the Roman Catholic Church. It has been a remarkable time marked by soul-wrenching, uncertain, self-doubting, faithless, joyful, enlightening, confusing and peaceful moments.

Several years ago, I went on a business trip to Singapore, India, Indonesia and Hong Kong. When I got back I was asked the same question, did I enjoy the trip. Not to be picky, but enjoy is not the word I would choose. I have always said it was the best trip I ever had that I did not enjoy having. It was eventful: being tested by our Chinese hosts to see what they could get us to eat, India with the Taj Mahal, pollution, snake charmers, color, chaos, poverty, disease and promise, in the midst of the Bataam jungle shown the Indonesian cook's special choice for my lunch - a live, 3 foot iguana held in a Tupperware tub out back that he wanted to butcher and prepare at my table, the web of dark alleys full of shops and life woven behind the high-rent, high-rises of pre-China Hong Kong. It was fascinating, mind-numbing, revelatory, exhausting, funny and horrifying. And I will never experience it again.

Now, that is the second best trip I have ever had. Today, I and my two children were confirmed in the Roman Catholic Church and recieved our first communion. It's interesting to me that a trip to the most foreign place I have experienced and joining the Catholic Church somehow equate in my mind and heart. I am a military brat. New and different is not new and different for me. It is a way of life. I feel as though I have come home and I feel as though, while I may not have walked through the fires of hell to do so, it did get a bit warm and there was definately a whiff or two of brimstone.

I gave this decision, maybe because of my age, or maybe the because of the process to get here, much more prayerful consideration than my marriages. Becoming a member of the Roman Catholic Church is a sacrament, one of seven visible signs of an invisible reality in which God is uniquely active. As a Protestant, there were two - Baptism and Eucharist (Holy Communion). Because they weren't sacraments, I could move my church membership or divorce at will, and did. Today, I was welcomed into a faith that I will embrace to death and beyond. That's kind of a big deal.

It's been an amazing few weeks. I want to thank Arlene, our loving friend who gently guided us through our journey, my daughter for following her heart, being persistant in her belief and encouraging us along the way and my son for his openess, faith and humor.

Tonight, after many weeks, I sit here writing to you peaceful, tired and, finally, with much to say.

Cleverly disguised as a responsible adult

Most of the time I'm sure you can see the real, goofy, screw up I do, tripping all over myself trying meet my own expectations. It seems the older I get the more inept I feel. Recently though, I've noticed some subtle changes.

More than a month ago, I was asked to write a letter to clearly express my desires and intentions as they relate to joining the Roman Catholic Church and to bring it to the retreat this weekend. It's been an awful lot to think about. I apologize if I've left you hanging while I've worked through it.

My desire is to follow the path I have been called to by God. My intention is to follow that call no matter where it leads. I do not want to convert from my Methodist upbringing. I am the 6th, and my children are the 7th, generation baptized in the church my great, great grandfather founded.

I do not want to be Catholic. I did not wake up one morning on yet another lark to do something unusual and provocative. Among some of my Protestant and, particularly among my non-Christian friends, my new affiliation has been suprising, dismaying and downright confusing. As I was called to be a mother, called to study the word of God, gifted to teach and provide comfort and truth, I am called to be Catholic.

Sometime this weekend I will go to reconciliation (confession). I am scared to death. Really. I've been "quite a pistol", as my grandmother said daily, carefully disguised as a responsible adult. I have never, NEVER, spoken out loud the things I have done to hurt others and myself. I have never spoken it to myself. I really prefer to ignore my failings and move on, trying to do better next time.

I am trusting the process. There have been people, with just the right amount of loving and support, to guide me through this far. They will be there for me through reconciliation and confirmation. When it is over, when I have bared my conscience, I pray I will be freed of it in a way I can not let it go myself.

Why am I asking to be admitted to full communion with the Roman Catholic Church? Because I believe the doctrine, teaching, ritual and traditions of the church. I believe to find truth we must go back to our roots. For me, that is the original church. I love being Catholic.

To Creed or not to Creed... Is that even a question?

My second week of seminary, I was asked to write a paper - Are the creeds a necessary and beneficial component of Christian faith and formation or are they a detriment?

What? Is that even a question?

I discovered, the first of many times, that it is very difficult for me to spot ideas counter to those beliefs I hold to be self evident. Are the creeds necessary? My Christian formation was as a traditional Methodist, mainstream protestant. The Apostle's and Nicean Creeds are part of my DNA.

The creeds are the statement of faith of the Christian church. They define our common beliefs as the framework of our doctrines, our unifying statements. We Christians will debate many things amongst ourselves, within the bounds of the creeds. Those truths we hold to be self evident and scripturally defined. The creed is my truth.

I am an engineer by training. Formulas are key to solving the most complex problems and finding order in chaos. I am aware that my more sophisticated and articulate associates may view my belief in one complete and undeliable truth to be unsubstantiated. I invite them to an ongoing conversation. Until then, here is what I believe:

We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is, seen and unseen.



We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one being with the Father. Through him all things were made. For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven: by the power of the Holy Spirit he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary, and was made man. For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate; he suffered death and was buried. On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures; he ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end.

We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father [and the Son]. With the Father and the Son he is worshipped and glorified. He has spoken through the Prophets. We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church. We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins. We look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come. AMEN.

Amen - means: so be it

The prayer of Saint Patrick

Saint Patrick's Breastplate

I arise today

Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,

Through the belief in the threeness,

Through the confession of the oneness

Of the Creator of Creation.

I arise today

Through the strength of Christ's birth with his baptism,

Through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial,

Through the strength of his resurrection with his ascension,

Through the strength of his descent for the Judgment Day.

I arise today

Through the strength of the love of Cherubim,

In obedience of angels,

In the service of archangels,

In hope of resurrection to meet with reward,

In prayers of patriarchs,

In predictions of prophets,

In preaching of apostles,

In faith of confessors,

In innocence of holy virgins,

In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today

Through the strength of heaven:

Light of sun,

Radiance of moon,

Splendor of fire,

Speed of lightning,

Swiftness of wind,

Depth of sea,

Stability of earth,

Firmness of rock.

I arise today

Through God's strength to pilot me:

God's might to uphold me,

God's wisdom to guide me,

God's eye to look before me,

God's ear to hear me,

God's word to speak for me,

God's hand to guard me,

God's way to lie before me,

God's shield to protect me,

God's host to save me

From snares of demons,

From temptations of vices,

From everyone who shall wish me ill,

Afar and anear,

Alone and in multitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and those evils,

Against every cruel merciless power that may oppose my body and soul,

Against incantations of false prophets,

Against black laws of pagandom

Against false laws of heretics,

Against craft of idolatry,

Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,

Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.

Christ to shield me today

Against poison, against burning,

Against drowning, against wounding,

So that there may come to me abundance of reward.

Christ with me,

Christ before me,

Christ behind me,

Christ in me,

Christ beneath me,

Christ above me,

Christ on my right,

Christ on my left,

Christ when I lie down,

Christ when I sit down,

Christ when I arise,

Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,

Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,

Christ in every eye that sees me,

Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today

Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,

Through belief in the threeness,

Through confession of the oneness,

Of the Creator of Creation.

The power of reaching out

Christian the lion

Answer: Under my buccan-hat

Good fortune is a matter of preparation and great timing. But, what we believe, experience and do depends on our unique perspective. I recently heard an interview with the founder of Facebook. He talked about developing the utility so college students could build community and how it had morphed into a worldwide community of millions. One of the most surprising things has been the number of people over 35 who have joined to find friends and family they lost track of.

In January, my daughter set up a Facebook for me. I was so suprised that rather quickly my friends list grew to include, not only those I talk to regularly, but family and friends I lost contact with 15, 20, even 30 years ago. These are people I have always loved and missed but didn't know how to find, and was a bit afraid wouldn't be near as interested in finding me again.

Last week, I wrote a posting called Getting Rite with God. I discussed the rites of the church and how valuable it has been to me to go through a formal and rigorous process of self examination in my decision to join the Roman Catholic church. I also said that if I had gone through such a process before my two weddings I would not have married.

Today, warming up after a long walk in a very cold, grey rain, I realized that I may have hurt someone. My first husband is a kind man who always tried to do what was best for me. Unfortunately, we met on my 19th birthday, and married six weeks later for three very rocky years. The truth is, I don't know if I would have made a different decision 30 years ago if I had been Catholic and had the structure of the church. Structure and rules have never really stopped me from anything I wanted to do.

Today, I am very different, while still being the same woman. I suppose who I am has not changed but my perspective has. Writing this blog is a much bigger exercise in self-revelation than I expected. I pray I never offend you and, if I do, I pray you know that it was unintentional. Unfortunately, as always, my truth can be a bit messy.

3rd Rock from the Sun, 1996 - Dick, the Commander, at a Halloween party, dressed as a pirate: Question: Where's your buccaneer's?

Answer: "Under my buccanhat."

It's all a matter of perspective.

And that joke has always cracked me up.

Almost seems unreal, doesn't it?

Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

Okay, I love the physical world. Sure, I adore ideas, spirituality. One of my favorite things in life is an original, unique idea - I live to think the thing no one has ever thought before. We spend much of this blog discussing high minded, spiritual ideas. But, at the top of my favorite things: the smell of my children's hair, a hot bubble bath, old churches, pedicures, German food, wine - not German, books, classic Adidas tennies, comfortable stilletos, beautiful fabrics... You get the idea. It's a very long list. I really appreciate being alive.

Also at the top of the things-I-can-not-miss list is any moment that there is evidence of things I can not see. I like to walk for an hour or so every day. The weather service told us to expect a cold front to arrive this afternoon, followed by rain. When I left home it was 77 degrees. Just as I was peeling off my sweater, the warm breeze shifted and the temperature dropped 15 degrees in less than a minute. A cool gust brushed in, the warmth returned and then the breeze shifted and it was in the low 60's. I loved it. Evidence of things not seen, the precise moment the cold front arrived and changed the day.

Tonight, Mom and I went to a discussion and practice of contemplative prayer at our church. Deacon Phillip skillfully introduced us to the central idea of finding a place of quiet to listen for God's guidance and find balance. Fifty or so people sat together in still, quiet reflection for 15 minutes. I felt the shift and cool breeze again and God spoke to me. (I'll save what God said for another time) What is most valuable is not the things we can see but the things we can experience: the familiar smell of those we love, the warmth of the sun, the clear, present, unmistakable knowledge that God is with us and wants only the best for each of us.

Getting Rite with God

This is me!
Accept me as I am. Please do not try to fit me into your stereotyped boxes. Do Not label me a phony because I am many people. There are many facets of my personality. I do wear masks: however, they are not all hiding masks. Some are very revealing masks, yet you may never know them all.

If you reject me or a part of me, I am hurt. However, I could change that part of me to suit you. But then that is not me, but you! Not everybody is going to like me and that is a fact hard to accept.

But if I change my life for everyone I am no one. And if you can be happy with this new me, this plastic doll that you created, who thinks your thoughts, voices your opinions and feels your feelings, then you are in love with you, not me. I cannot be happy with me: therefore I cannot be happy with you.

Anonymous - As received from Deacon Bob, Christ the Redeemer Church, 3/8/9

One of my favorite scriptures is Mark 14:48-52. It is the scene as Jesus is being arrested: “Have you come out with swords and clubs to arrest me as though I were a guerrilla? Day after day I was with you in the Temple teaching, and you did not arrest me. But let the scriptures be fulfilled.” All of them deserted him and fled. A young man was following him, wearing nothing but a linen [cloth]. They caught hold of him, but he left the linen [cloth] and ran off naked."

I suppose the naked guy appeals to my sense of humor, irony and mystery. Today I feel like the naked guy, stripped of my masks, pretense and fancy logic. The Rites of the church serve as stepping stones and periods of self examination. Why does the Catholic church enforce a process of acceptance on converts and baptized new members?

Joining a Protestant church is a relatively simple process for the previously baptized. In my experience, one must profess a desire to join and, unsually in front of the congregation, pledge to be loyal to the demonination and support the church with prayers, presence, gifts and service. Education in the faith and further involvement in the church are encouraged and supported but left up to the individual. In general, the unbaptized meet with the pastor to discuss their desire and the meaning of baptism and then in front of witnesses is baptized.

To become Catholic one must participate in the Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults. The process is marked by Rites following periods of inquiry, education, purification and enlightenment ending with confirmation and Eucharist, the sacrament of Holy Communion. http://www.olmc.org/RCIA/What%20is%20RCIA.htm It is a lifelong commitment that affirms not only spiritual and moral afilliation but also a cultural one. Much like being part of a family.

I wish I had taken the opportunity for such serious consideration and expert guidance when deciding to marry each time. I'm certain I would have made very different decisions. For this decision, I am taking the time to prayerfully consider what is right for me and what God calls me to do. The process is a gift from the church of knowledge and understanding. As with my biological family, I may not agree with everything, but I feel comfortable lovingly disagreeing and working for the good of us all.

If God's forgiven me, why do I still feel like crap?

I take it on faith that if I am stomach-sickeningly honest about what I have done when I ask God for forgiveness, I am forgiven immediately. All trace is completely erased. If I go back tomorrow, which I have been known to do, and bring it up again, God would have no idea what I am refering to. It no longer exists in the universal mind - the definition of forgive and forget. In Eastern thought, no karma. So, if I pray, am honest about what I've done and want to be free of it, I am freed.

Which takes me to my question. In this Lenten time of reflection, my time in the desert of my own thoughts and feelings, I'm wondering why I don't feel freed by God's love and forgiveness.


My daughter and I went to the same church at different times for Ash Wednesday services. I've never experienced a traffic jam going to church before, let alone at 4pm on Wednesday. The 3 mile, normally 10 minute drive came to a dead stop just a mile from my house. I had to park illegally and cross a field to get to the service on time. The liturgy was what I have become comfortable with: 3 scripture readings - 1 Old Testament, 1 from the Epistles, and the third from the Gospels - each followed by a hymn and then finally the homily.

The ashes from the palms used at last year's Palm Sunday were mixed with Holy water and we were asked to come forward. As the cross of ashes was made I felt a surge of energy at the center of my forehead like touching a light electric current. I couldn't hear the blessing. All I could do was catch my breath and focus on keeping my balance. Back kneeling in the pew I felt a deep love and comfort, profound security. When it was time to stand I stumbled right where I stood.

I came out into a beautiful late February day in Cypress, mild temperature, turquoise sky, high white clouds, flowers in bloom, the grass green and the trees still bare. Houston rush hour with the extra church traffic should have been impossible but it flowed easily and I remember being happy to be there, happy to be breathing and to be going home. Later, my daughter stopped to see me on her way back to school and told me about her first Ash Wednesday. It was my story in every detail.

The things I've done that I have asked, have been forgiven and forgotten by God. And I may have forgiven myself but I haven't forgotten. I'm really pretty good at forgiving. I've even forgiven my ex-husband for allowing our son to be abused all those years, for ignoring his financial obligations for the last three years and one or two other things.

Forgetting is much trickier. We are beings that possess memory for survival, learning, and improving our lives. I'm not interested in forgetting that my ex has been untrustworthy. That would be dangerous. If I forget the things that I have done that I regret, then how do I keep the learning? I think the goal is to give up the guilt, shame, anger and fear toward myself and others and trust myself to do better next time.


So here is my theory:

God forgives and forgets completely.

I can embrace that forgiveness as my own and I can forgive others. I might not forget what happened, but I can release the pain and trust that I, and you, will do better next time.

If I can remember that, I'll feel much better.

I just can't hide it

It's probably not appropriate to say Happy Ash Wednesday. The whole nature of the season is focused around prayer, fasting, service and charity in preparation for Holy Week. The fourty days of Lent are meant to provide a period of reflection and study representing the time Jesus spent in the desert before taking up his ministry. If you've counted you know that Lent is longer than fourty days. The six Sundays are not counted because they are feast days celebrating Jesus' victory over temptation and death.

Liturgical Christians: Roman Catholic, Lutheran, Anglican and Methodists, usually observe Lent by sacrificing something they enjoy, or find difficult to give up for fourty days. Some also observe days of fasting and abstinance on specific days. For Roman Catholics that means eating lightly and refraining from eating meat other than fish. It seems like we can thank Thomas Aquinas for that one. He argued that fish was less enjoyable and nourishing than other meats that provided "a greater surplus available for seminal matter, which when abundant becomes a great incentive to lust." According to Thomas eating fish promotes chastity and the tradition stuck.

In the Catholic tradition, Lent is also the time of preparation for new members to join the church. Tomorrow, Ash Wednesday, begins an ancient and fascinating process of preparation to become Catholic. So, to begin, we'll go to the church and receive ashes. I remember being in 8th grade and a friend came into class late with a smudge on her forehead, being a good bud I reached up to wipe it off for her. She almost knocked me down grabbing my hand before I touched her head. It was my first encounter with Ash Wednesday. Tomorrow will be my second. I'll try not to let it show I'm happy about Ash Wednesday and will let you know how it goes.

Happy Birthday Daddy!

I love you. I have been so blessed to have you as my dad and my kids are fortunate that you are their grandaddy and surregate dad.

This week has had a couple of landmarks. Mom and Daddy have been married 49 years and we celebrated, are still celebrating, Daddy's birthday. Not to mention my son was well enough to attend school for the first time in 3 weeks.

If you don't know him, it is important to say that my dad is a man of strong principles, considered beliefs and clear ethics. He sets a very high standard. I am a independent and free thinking. So, often I fall short, or think I do. When we had a moment alone this week, in the midst of everything else, Daddy told me he was glad I had chosen to join the Roman Catholic Church. He said he knew I had been searching and was happy and relieved I had found a comfortable spiritual home. Now I know he doesn't agree with all the doctrine of church or quite get why I would make this decision. But he gives me an incredible gift that he trusts and loves me so much that he releases me into the unknown and unknowable.

My dad is 75 today. I pray he will live to 100 and more. He is my advocate, my alter ego and my partner in crime.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I've felt really schizophrenic about this whole blog idea. On one hand, it's important to me to provide a forum for open conversation on things important to us. The rest of me feels insecure, vulnerable and ill at ease about sharing what I'm thinking and feeling in such a public way.

I tend to write at night. When I wake up, I'm having morning after self doubt. It's like the hazy days of 1984 all over again - skipping the disco hangover. Without knowing my anxiety, you all have been wonderfully supportive. There are no words for what it means to me to log on my email and have your notes. My caring friend with more supportive words about my son's health. Linae, sorry about calling me out, and appreciating the discussion of what it is to be authentic. My daughter pointing out that I don't need to worry too much about shading my opinion because it comes out anyway and that you love me just the way I am. And my mom. I don't think she's ever read a blog before but has spent hours reading this one, Sara's Olive Branch, Jackie's Take the Long Way Home.

Thank you all for being part of this. If you haven't read the other blogs, please do. Sara is wonderfully candid and funny. Jackie is a wonderful theologian. Her discussions of doctrine and the questions of faith are well thought out, interesting and thought provoking.

Much love back to you!

Leave it to Linae

I love my friends. I swear I do. I hate it when you're calling me out. You are absolutely right. The intent of this forum is to share ideas, examine our beliefs and gain new understanding through candor and reflection.

Linae's comment on my first entry really struck a nerve. Essentially what she pointed out is, I (we) want to be loved, understood. On the other hand, I (we) cover who I am, shade the truth, soften my opinions so I can be accepted. What it comes down to is I want you to love me for who I am but I'm going to give you softened version of who I am so you'll love me. Thank you for pointing it out. Let's see if I can fix that for this blog.

Today my mother went to her first mass and catholic class for adults who aren't (catholic) with my daughter and I. For the last several weeks I've been hedging. Am I investigating, going to convert, supporting my daughter, learning? Well, here it is. I sat through a boring, lengthy homily (sermon), a more boring class in a too hot room with well-meaning teachers, next to my uncomfortable mom. There was not one moment that I hoped it would be different, that I wanted to the homily to be better, the teachers to be more engaging or the room to be cooler. I loved every boring, uncomfortable minute of it. So, yes. I'm going to join the Roman Catholic church. You just can't find that kind of joy in boredom everywhere.

My daughter had a startling God moment today. The message she recieved was for me also. "I'm doing this for me. Not for anyone else." It's a critical message for all of us. We can't do anything for anyone else. It is only for me. Let's stop shading who we are so we will be loved. If we do that, it's the shading that is loved, not us.

Oh, for the love of God!

Now seriously, what does that mean? I've known it as an exclamation of frustration: "I can't even begin to believe that that happened!" "You can't be serious!" "Stop doing that!"

Today my son was prescribed his 3rd round of antibiotic for strep. My thought, "For the love of God, what is going on?" He has been home sick for more than two weeks. Another doctor's appointment, more missed school, new meds. Damn, really? It was demoralizing, exhausting, frustrating.

Then something extraordinary happened. I was planning on meeting a dear friend for lunch. I've had to cancel with her several times over the last few months because my dear boy has been sick. When I called her she did what she does, she loved me. She heard the fatigue and frustration in my voice and she told me she would call tomorrow to check on me and then she asked me to do one thing. She asked me to find a way to take care of myself and told me she would look forward to hearing what I had done.

Her act of love, changed my focus. I still had to fill the new presciption, make him comfortable, do my work... but rather than feeling frustrated, I found myself thinking, "what will I do for me?" After we got home and settled in, I opened a good bottle of wine, $18 for me is good, and watched a movie I had saved. While he rested, I rested and lost myself in good wine and entertainment. I realized later, I had forgotten that tomorrow is Valentine's, so I had to go to the store, while I was out I treated myself to a few things I had been wanting.

For the love of God. By the love of my family, my friends, I am truly blessed. Sometimes, I think I do this on my own, a single mom keeping our small family going. And a moment later, my support swoops in. I'm never alone, by the love of God I can do this. With the love of God we will be fine. I don't know how the other usage came about but I vote we stop it completely - for the love of God.

Can I ask you a question?

What are you looking for?

Me?

I search for understanding.

Several years ago, on my birthday, I had a vision, a visitation. To me, the message was clear: read the Bible, educate and minister. Ahhhhhhh!!!! Not me. I'm not religious, I am irreverant, loud, questioning. God clearly dialed the wrong number.

I followed the call. Doors opened, 2 years of seminary, candidacy for the ministry, teaching Bible studies, leading worship. Doors closed. A son in need of my focus, ambivalent church leadership. My friends were ordained, writing books, ministering. I was stuck.

For years, my daughter has been called to the Roman Catholic Church and through seminary I searched to find the doctrine closest to the original church. Over the holidays we decided to check it out and began Inquiry classes at the local church to learn more.

Not long after, at a party, I was asked: 'Where are you going to church?' After telling him, I learned a few things: Catholics would not go to heaven, need to be saved and they do not believe in Jesus. I thought that was odd what with Christ hanging from the Catholic cross and all.

The good thing about parties is when you find yourself in a truly bizarre conversation, they type you try to figure out for days and weeks afterward, it's easy to get away. I headed for the food.

Later acquaintance advised me that I would not be able to minister if Catholic.

Both of them approached me saying, "We need to talk." I would have been happy to have a conversation. But they seemed to want to fix me. They are well meaning and loving. But their approach hurt and shocked me. I decided then to provide a platform for an open, respectful discussion about the topics most important to our leading full, productive, joyful lives.

Thank you for joining.

We need to talk

"We need to talk." Heard that before? Let me translate: "You need to listen to me." My kids, friends, acquaintances and random strangers have been victims of the "we need to talk (prepare for a lecture)" statement for as long as I've thought I could fix the world one coaching moment at a time. To all whom I have victimized in this special way, I'd like to take a private moment now and say to you I am deeply sorry. I appreciate the times you saw and complied with my innate wisdom, and am still, admittedly, a bit perplexed at the times that you couldn't see the genius in what was right for you and followed your own shakey, uncertain path. I forgive you.

Having been on the other side of the WNTT (pronounced 'Want') with some very personal and sensitive decisions recently, I have to tell you I didn't like it. I want to propose a new approach: "Can I ask you a question?" Because CIAYAQ(or Kayak) does not replace WNTT in practice, we must agree to sincerely inquire, to learn and be open to hear the answer and work to find it's value. So some agreements:

• Be respectful at all times
• Ask only a question we are open to hear and consider the answer to
• Be candid about our opinions and do not advocate them
• Ask honest questions, those we really want answers to, not those that are leading or pointed

Through the storms in my life, most recently and vividly, Hurricane Ike, candles have been a source of comfort, community and illumination. I'd like to invite you to the table to have an open conversation about the questions and assumptions we carry, that form us and our vision of our world and each other. Please join me.

Tomorrow... how all this came about.