Satisfaction

I'm so tired I can barely sit upright. In fact, I'm on the couch with the footrest up and leaning into the arm side at about a 30% angle.

Long day. Dentist, then 9 hours sitting in a hospital room waiting for a new baby to arrive.
He did.
He's adorbs*.
No one knows his name except his parents. I don't get it. Presumably we'll find out tomorrow.

I didn't do anything strenuous but I'm really freaking tired.
Perhaps it's because of the hellaciously weird and bad week full of bomb squad stories, internet infamy, FOIA, grand jury duty (we did about 25 cases yesterday and issued 20 or so subpoenas), and the usual Crazy Cat Lady tricks. Add to that a new baby, driving 2.5 hours in heavy street traffic today, picking up a CPAP (which meant an hour-long drive round-trip) Tuesday and trying to get use to having a tube and nozzle attached to my face at night. I felt much better yesterday morning--really awake for the first time in awhile--but last night didn't go as well. Bad dreams.

Sparky changed jobs this week too. He started the week vomiting, by midweek was totally up-in-the-air job-wise, and ended the week in a much better place all the way around. And that's after we saw him last Saturday.

Then there was the moth in the shower with me yesterday. {{shudder}} Which landed on my forehead which I then spotted in the mirror on the side of the shower and freaked me the fuck out completely.

I'm really really hoping tomorrow is boring.

*and he's in NICU tonight because they detected a mass in his torso after a non-routine ultrasound of his mom last week; otherwise he seems fine, however.

Press On

Heard this on the way to work today. Nice timing, of course.

Bloglandia

One of the first areas of interest I found when the blogosphere was new to me was the existence of many religion-based blogs. Over the years, there have been many that I have subscribed to and then stopped reading. Some died off, some changed format and/or platform, some "lost me" in the midst of their discussions, some I just didn't have time to read because they were "too deep." There are several that I keep on my "Defunct and Hoping" blogroll, just in case.

By sheer happenstance--after posting a photo hilarious sign a former coworker had posted that had some unintentional lewd humor involved--I fell into a marvelous community of women by clicking on the link to the homepage of someone who commented on my pic. Her writing was witty and wise and un-preachy. Because of a tragedy that happened in her community to a member of her church who was also a friend--and serendipitously I also have a friend in that town--I was able to figure out where she worked. I continued to troll her site, occasionally leaving tiny comments, but mostly just enjoying her sometimes bawdy humor and her thoughtful engagement with the meeting of spiritual with mundane life. And she lived in the state just north of me, so I bonded with her 'persona' over a shared fan-love of a certain sports team.

Then...poof...she left a cryptic post on her blog, deleted the old posts, stopped writing...and eventually took down the whole blog.

I was devastated. I trolled the website of her church and soon she disappeared from the list of "employees." I trolled the Bigger Church Group that encompasses her area of the world and found some mentions of her in the minutes and committees. I browsed comments in the online community for months not knowing what I expected to find. I prayed for her health, safety, and (selfishly) her return to Blogland.

Many, many months later, while reading something in the community blog, I happened across a comment from someone with her first name--which she didn't use on her old blog, but because I'm an Ace Researcher, I had found on her church's site (of course). The comment "sounded like" her, and even if her name is pretty common--it's near the middle of the top 100 names of the last 100 years according to the Social Security Administration--I figured I'd click over to this woman's blog. And it was HER! I could tell in the first paragraph of the most recent post that I'd refound the object of my stalking.

So, she went onto the blogroll, and I read back over what she'd written since re-entering the online world, and no she didn't lay it all out about why she left, what had happened, who "did her wrong" or wallow in the painful details. She hasn't ever done that. She has been forthright and honest and discreet and careful, which speaks to her character and is the reason I admire her.

ANYWAY. She recently posted on her blog a 'love letter,' if you will, to the online community of women she's been part of. I read it, and had tears in my eyes by the end for her clarity and exposition of what that community has done to keep her together, hold her safe, and pray love for her. One of the other women replied, in part, "The parish you serve is ... no longer limited by walls.... That stopped me cold. Life went on around me and I clicked out to carry on with things, but couldn't get that comment out of my head.

A day later I went back and wrote what is probably my longest comment to her, letting her know that as the other commenter said, she really has been ministering to me with her words all these years, without knowing that, without necessarily meaning to, but that her grace and honesty and deep conscientious thought even during some dark times has helped me. I posted it. And I felt ludicrous, but there it was.

I finally decided to see if she'd deleted my (potentially creepy-stalker) comment today. Her reply makes my heart sing.

(Another) Lesson (re-)learned: thank people and tell them what they mean to you! It's easy to think that people KNOW how you feel, but mostly they don't. And in this case, can't.

Duh.

It's gonna be like that, is it?

So, I've failed to follow through on Poetry Month in April and the Blog Challenge last month. We are all now perfectly clear on one of my biggest character flaws: I have a tendency to start projects with a big ol' bang and then fizzle out in the middle.

I assure you, there are exceptions. This year, though, seems to be the year of no-follow-through. I'm feeling it in my interpersonal relationships, outside the family. I'm feeling it a little at work--I bailed on that class I was taking in April, as well as the Poetry Month--and I'm definitely feeling it in blogland. Even Facebook and Goodreads, and other online locales, are getting short shrift.

And of course, my house. My poor, not-very-clean house, and projects that have been lying around since Christmas. I can hear the piper's tune getting angrier. I know that at some point I'll have to pay him. I'm guessing along about September 15 the shit's going to hit the fan and I'm going to commence Full Panic Stations at Red Alert (because that's not redundant, oh no).

I should probably be feeling great big gobs of guilt over all of this failing-to-live-up-to-standards, but I don't. I'm getting through the days. There have been few crises in the past few weeks. Sparky's class seems to be going better this time around. Beast is still mostly on the up-tick from last year's drama. The only place I'm feeling agita is in the friendship department.

And, believe it or not, even with all this lackadaisicality (lackadaisicalness?), I have managed to lose about 10 pounds since April. I'm not breaking any speed records, but I really took my doctor's words to heart: just lose it, 5-10 pounds a year is fine, since that's about the rate I've been putting it on. I don't feel like I'm starving, I still eat the occasional (or frequent, this week) ice cream or donut, I'm just eating less. Now that I can't be outside because the allergy thing has kicked in hard, the walking exercise will have to be replaced by ... something. We'll see.

In the short term, Beast and I will be celebrating our anniversary in The Big City for the next couple of days; once again, they'll be shooting off fireworks for us (ha ha), though I'm not sure where or whether we're going to see them. Sparky's home from school for the weekend, but he's headed back before we return home on Saturday. At least he's here long enough to feed the guinea pigs and take the trash out for pickup while we're gone.

Yeah. Basically, I'm waiting. Waiting for what? The other shoe to drop? Katherine & Alan's baby to be born (that's about a month out now)? I don't know. But I do know I have a strong sense of waiting, patiently or not. I'm generally not a "good" wait-er. I get anxious. And bored. But I'm hearing "They also serve who only stand and wait" (Milton) rabbiting through my brain a lot. And I'm trying to be patient in hope that I'll get a clue at some point. I just hope I'm not zoned out or asleep when it zooms past.

Blog Challenge

I probably should have done this yesterday morning: I didn't get home last night until 10 and then was up and out of the house this morning at 6, so I'm (tah-dah) behind again.

Yesterday's topic was Your Views on Religion. I go to church fairly regularly, Bible Study weekly, have taught Sunday School for a kabillion years, and been a youth group leader. My family, except for my brother and two of my nephews, is also pretty churchy. So, you'd think I'd also be up in people's faces about God. Frankly, I'm more than willing to talk about God, but I don't shove my beliefs at other people. I don't mock other people's beliefs. It pisses me off when I see either of those things happening, especially if it's a professing Christian doing it. And honestly, if you do either of those things to me, I'm liable to get Very Cranky.

Today--doing an about-face--I'm supposed to write about A Time [I] Thought About Ending [My] Life. High school and college had a few bumps like this, but since adolescence has waned I haven't ever seriously considered it for more than fleeting moments on extraordinarily awful days. It's interesting that the person writing the questions makes the assumption that everyone would have actually seriously considered suicide. That's not to say I don't know how to do it; I do read a lot of mysteries. Beast used to joke about whether he should worry about me offing him, for heaven's sake, and we've been married for nearly 27 years. ;-)

I Know My Redeemer Lives

Happy Easter!

Old haunts

I can't remember if I have mentioned that Sparky is attending the same college that Beast and I went to (independent of our wishes, by the way--he really wanted to go there more than either of us wanted him to). The school is about an hour from our house, so it's quite easy for him to get home and back on holidays, unlike either of his parents who were both at least 1000 miles from home and only got home on the Big Ones: Christmas and Spring Break.

We took him back last night after I got home from work, leaving the house at about 5:45 and dumping his stuff in his dorm room and heading to a nearby pizza dive establishment that also serves up a local specialty: p0nz@r0tti. It's inside-out pizza, deep-fried. Probably the worst food on the planet, and SO FREAKIN' GOOD (till you're done and spend hours burping...).

Amazing: biting into the crust was like biting into College. It brought every p0nz@ I've eaten right back to mind. Crazy-good. Also, last night was the first time I've ever finished one in one sitting. My eating, uhm, skills have increased over the past 30 years, I guess. hah

So we were enjoying the ambiance (ahem) and watching the people coming in to eat or pick up orders. There was a high school-ish aged couple that came in right after us with her little sister; they sat in the booth behind ours. There were families and groups of friends, some stereotypical people, some not-so. Mostly just a busy pizza spot for all intents and purposes.

This being the state that it is, a guy came in and ordered a (small) plastic cup of beer. I am not sure at all whether he ordered anything else, but bear in mind that this is NOT a bar, but every place in that state serves beer. It's required, possibly even state law (I think they have to serve milk too, FWIW, lol). He was clearly already off on his own little spirit-induced planet, which became extremely obvious when he began to play air-guitar licks along with the hard-rock station providing the background music.  This was baroque, visually noisy guitar-playing, very flamboyant. Sparky and I could barely keep straight faces.

Dude then offered his partially-eaten back of pork rinds around to the people behind him (two booths from us), then made a general incoherent announcement that he was willing to share: "Anibod' wan eni? Ann-nee-bod'?" At this point I noted that his beer was only down about 1/2" so he hadn't GOTTEN drunk on-site, but he was (as I told Beast) well past 12 sheets to the wind.

And then he noticed Beast. And Sparky. And came over to push Beast's shoulder and tell him that he could tell that Beast is "a grea' mutha-fuckin' dad!" then point at Sparky and say, "You oughdda be ... yer dad's a good fugg-kin' dad, I can tell! My dad was an asssssss-ho' but this guy....." prod, push "is a GOOD fuckin' dad."

Silence had fallen in the restaurant at this point. Everyone at all the tables was watching avidly from under their hats and half-closed eyes, ever-so-grateful this guy had leeched onto us instead of them, gauging what the chances are of getting out the door without him seeing them and following them out. No one moved.

Beast took it in good stride, keeping his eyes on the guy's face, but watching the rest of the room (that he could see) as well, agreeing with him, not encouraging him, but letting him ramble on. And ramble on he did, mostly in a language I don't speak aside from the frequent "mutha-fucks" and "bu'SHIT!" interpolations. Thankfully, he was so stereotypical of the area that I wasn't even in the room as far as he was concerned, so I could pay attention to the rest of the room (that I could see) and Sparky--who mostly looked shell-shocked but was following his dad's lead and nodding agreeably whenever the diatribe seemed directed at him--until Beast finally said, "Well, we need to get going." Another minute or so, and we were standing and putting our coats on and moving slowly towards the entrance. As soon as we stood, the high school-ish kids behind us were on their feet and moving, using us as shields to get out the door at the same time. I caught the girl's eye in the doorway and she said, "We were just waiting for you to leave so we could!" Yeah, they were the next in line to be 'advised' by this guy.

Sparky and I got to the car with Beast following a few seconds later; he had stopped at the kitchen door because he had been able to see the staff watching from there and wanted to let them know that the guy wasn't really hassling us, but he was right on the edge and could easily get to be a problem if he took something just the wrong way.

This sort of occurrence used to happen occasionally when we lived in the area; it was quite weird to have it happen again last night after living where we do now for 17 years. I don't think we've had to deal this directly with a drunk in eons. Maybe because Sparky was little for most of that time, but I think really it's a whole cultural thing; people around here have a whole different take on drinking than people in that area.

Aside from the nerve-wracking, somewhat humorous aspects of all this, I just felt so sad for the guy. He probably isn't any older than Beast and me, possibly younger, and his life is so small. Sigh.

Sparky...didn't really say much. It probably re-confirmed his lack of interest in drinking, though. I hope. Thanks, God! :-)

Today, Beast is feeling horrible--sort of food-poisoned--and he's wondering if, while shaking the guy's hand goodbye last night, he picked up some kind of bug. The guy's hands were NOT clean; we discussed that last night in fact, and Beast went and washed up at the dorm when we dropped off Sparky. In any case, he's crashed out "watching" Scott Van Pelt on ESPN in his recliner under a blanket.



Oh, and our garage door spring broke over the weekend. It's been a very bizarre few days.

What a difference six years makes

Tomorrow is the beginning of our last youth group mission trip. Looking back six years to when we first started as youth group leaders, what I remember most is feeling totally panicked over this part of the job. The people who were in charge before us left us a little bit high-and-dry; there was nothing we could go on with anything--they even refused to give us the remaining checks for the bank account so forget asking them for help in finding a site for mission work!

We muddled through. And Katrina happened about two weeks before our first meeting in the fall of 2004, which led to an easy decision about where we were going. The major problem was WHERE and how to hook up with people who needed assistance. So God stepped in and sent other church members to the Gulf Coast to scope out a site. We ended up taking two high schoolers that year, but making it a combined mission experience with about 10 adults and 4 younger kids, not all of whom were members of our church. It was complicated. And frustrating. And absolutely amazing. It made me into a mission-junkie. Beast, too.

The following year we were on our own and I discovered that there are organizations 'out there' that coordinate trips for harried youth group leaders. In the end we blindly picked (were pushed into by God, really) an organization called Youthworks which has 50-60 sites around the continent that they staff and plan for every year. The sites range from rural to urban, and provide places for everyone ages 12 to 18 to serve. Since that year, they have expanded to multi-generational sites where whole families and church groups of all ages can attend. I so much want to do one of those! But I'm getting ahead of myself.

In June of 2007 we took Sparky and three high school girls to Minneapolis for a week. That's the short version. The longer version is that I spent most of the first six months of that year in a state of panic over the paperwork that needed to be filled out, the money that had to be collected. I must have sent out at least six letters to the group and their parents about the trip over the course of the year. I worried constantly that we were going to have any number of problems or issues or scary events. Instead it turned out to be life-changing in all the good ways. The girls accepted Sparky unquestioningly (he was a year younger than them, not yet in high school), the college-age leaders were astounding in their faith and work ethic and joy, the work sites were indescribably rich in teachable moments, the church in which we 'lived' was spacious and had a pop machine (!)...and we got to go to Mall of America as a treat for our group at the end of the week. All that was great, but the most important, awe-inspiring thing was watching all of us explode in the growth of our faith and understanding of our purpose here. All my worries, all the panic, all the concerns about safety and planning and potential homesickness...all for naught.

The only downside of that trip was the fact that it was a combined middle school and high school trip. We are not cut out for dealing with 13-year-olds. We have specified high-school only trips from that year on.

In 2008, we took a larger group (about 10, I think) to the city where Beast and I lived for 6 years, and where Sparky was born. It was easier in many ways, not the least of which was knowing our way around town. The church was outstanding, the work was rewarding, the leaders were good.

In 2009, it was time to step away from urban sites. The kids elected to go to an an Ojibway reservation. We stayed at a school instead of a church, it was much cooler the week we were there, and the leaders--both those from Youthworks and those from the other church groups there that week--were absolutely unbelievably great. The pace was much slower, there were fewer 'a-ha' moments for the kids, but I think eyes were opened, perhaps more slowly and over a longer period of time afterwards, just as much as in their (our) service in the cities we'd been in.

Last year we went to our denomination's youth conference. It was a different experience from working all week, but we were every bit as sweaty and dirty and uncomfortable and tired as we were on mission trips, and there was every bit as much Spirit there in somewhat more obvious ways. It was a blast. In some respects last summer was a harder year because it required more internal 'work,' more honesty, more in-your-face challenges. For me, at least. I was wrecked at the end of the week.

For our final trip, we are headed east for the first time. We are back in a city. And the place we're staying sounds like the Hilton: beds (OMG--no air mattresses! Just sleeping bags), air conditioning, on-site showers!! And, where the first year I was staging the packing easily a week before we left, this year I haven't actually started packing. I don't even have clothes to take: I need to hit the store today for jeans and capris. In short, I'm probably the most under-prepared I've ever been for anything. And I'm ok with that; whatever is going to happen will happen regardless of the contingencies I've planned for.

We're taking Ruka to the rat-sitter this morning, then stopping at an ATM and Farm & Fleet for money and clothes, and then it's hope to start throwing shit into bags. I need to send a Facebook reminder about timing for tomorrow, and then I'm calling it done. Bring it on, God!! I'm ready for our swan song!

Oh dear God

What ELSE could possibly go wrong today?!

By asking that, I'm probably gunning for two more tons to land on us. I'm not real sure I'd notice, if that gives you any indication of how deep it feels right now.

I hatehateHATE my son's school administrators right now. Am also furious at him for being an absolute MORON. But really, is it too much to ask for the administrator who promised to call "both parents" to actually do so?? No, let's just call the Dad; Dads are the Enforcers, right? Moms don't need to know jack.

The special topping on this whole thing is that I allowed my frustration to boil over onto Beast so now we have a problem to handle as well.

FML

Iceland's volcano

All bets are off this upcoming week as far as what's going to happen. According to the USAirways site:

Cities Affected

Brussels, Belgium ; Paris, France (Charles de Gaulle) ; Frankfurt, Germany ; Munich, Germany ; Amsterdam, Netherlands ; Zurich, Switzerland

Date Range

4/15/2010 12:30 PM ET through 4/20/2010 11:30 PM ET

Revised Ticket Policy

US Airways has relaxed ticketing policies for the impacted cities listed above. US Airways will allow one itinerary change without penalty for customers with travel to, from or through the cities listed above during the specified date range. See our revised ticketing policy below for rules and restrictions. Call 800-428-4322 for more information.

• US Airways will waive the advance purchase and standard change fee.
• You can move your entire itinerary up to fourteen days before or after the scheduled origination date (subject to original booking class availability).
• You can apply the full value of your wholly unused tickets toward the purchase of a ticket to an alternate destination, although travel must originate within seven days of the scheduled origination date. Changes to origin and destination may result in an increase in fare. Any difference in fare between your new ticket and the original ticket will be collected at the time of booking.

The German students are scheduled to go home on Tuesday.

Which would be April 20. Who knows, though: they may still be here next weekend. Or they may actually get on their flight to PA and then get stranded there for who-knows-how-long.

Let's recap:

• July 1996--Days before we are scheduled to fly home from England, TWA 800 crashes off Long Island. While our flight home was not cancelled, airport security was freakin' bizarre. The flight wasn't exactly relaxing either, on top of traveling with a 3-year-old boy.
• September 2001--My niece Rosellen and her boyfriend-at-the-time are midway into their flight from Birmingham to Chicago when all hell breaks loose on the East Coast of the U.S. They end up rerouted to Amsterdam and thence home. I doubt Boyfriend has ever boarded another airplane; that was his first flight ever, and the first time he had left the country.
• July 2005--Sparky is on a People to People trip with about twenty other 11-and 12-year-olds. Beast is in the hospital with fucked-up discs in his back. MIL calls at 7 a.m. as I'm racing out the door to see Beast to ask me precisely where Sparky is right now, and when I tell her "Paris...no, on his way from London across the Channel on a ferry," she sighs gratefully...and tells me not to watch the news. Right.

I've omitted all the other rather shocking things that have happened in the world while we were on vacation, but a short list should suffice: Jeffrey Dahmer's arrest, the shooting at the Capitol, Princess Di's death.

Point being, I guess, is that stuff happens and we have learned over the years to roll with all the possibilities of Things That Can Happen To Screw Up Your Travel Plans.

Happy Easter

Jesus Christ is risen today!
Hallelujah!

Lent

Monday
Oh worship Jehovah in holy array. (Psalm 96:9, ASV)
Prayer: Thank you, O divine Artist, for all things beautiful.

Second Sunday in Lent

Week 3
God be in my eyes, and in my looking
See how very much our Father loves us, for he calls us his children, and that is what we are! (1 John 3:1)

Look at photographs of children--yourself as a child, your own children or grandchildren, or pictures of children around the world. It has been said that God gazes upon us with the same open love with which we gaze into the eyes of our children. Today take a few minutes to look at your face in a mirror. Imagine that it is God who is looking at you, with infinite love. Feel yourself being looked upon as God's beloved child.

Prayer: Thank you, God, for the gift of me.

Lent

Saturday
Brothers, stop thinking like children. In regard to evil be infants, but in your thinking be adults. (1 Corinthians 14:20, The Message)
Prayer: Open my mind to your ongoing revelation, O God.

Lent

Friday
And be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God. (Romans 12:2, 21KJV)
Prayer: Give me a discerning mind, Spirit of Wisdom.

Lent

Thursday
Wisdom begins with respect for the Lord; those who obey his orders have good understanding. He should be praised forever. (Psalm 111:10, NCV)
Prayer: Astonish me, Holy One.

Lent

Wednesday
Just as the heavens are higher than the earth, my thoughts and my ways are higher than yours. (Isaiah 55:9, CEV)
Prayer: Keep me from haughtiness and pride, O Lord.

Lent

Well, I'm already behind.

Here is yesterday's meditation:

Monday
But the wisdom from above is first of all pure. It is also peace loving, gentle at all times, and willing to yield to others. It is full of mercy and good deeds. It shows no favoritism and is always sincere. (James 3:17, NLT)
Prayer: May I seek peace, O Christ, and pursue it.

And today's:

Tuesday
Uncover mine eyes, and I behold wonders out of Thy law. (Psalm 119:18, YLT)
Prayer: Teach me to love your law, O God.

First Sunday in Lent

Week 2
God be in my head, and in my understanding
For behold, you look for truth deep within me, and will make me understand wisdom secretly. (Psalm 51:6)

We sometimes use the word "true" to mean "not false or fictional," but it also can refer to what is "really real"--what is authentic, reliable and trustworthy. When you think about God, what do you "know in your bones" to be real about the Creator, about Jesus Christ and about the Holy Spirit? Try to let your mind lead you deeper than statements of doctrine to the level of inner experience, and find your own words to describe what you find there.

Prayer: May I live in your truth, O God.

Lent

We are now fully ensconced in Lent--well, 'we' who are Christians are. I'm little late getting my act together on it this year. I came across a good idea on a friend's blog. He posted the Lenten readings his church has handed out.

This reminded me that the Presbyterians Today that came last month had a Lenten readings booklet in it that I pulled out and set aside. I've rescued it from where I left it and decided to do something similar to Patrick's post: I'm going to post the text of each day's meditation from the PT booklet, which is entitled "Praying Through Lent : With Heart, Soul, Mind, and Body" and written by Kristine A. Haig and can be purchased here.

So, to catch up, here is all of the first week, which is headed God be at my end, and at my departing:

Ash Wednesday
...You are dust, and to dust you shall return. (Genesis 3:19)
Prayer: I am dust, and to dust I shall return.

Thursday
Precious in your sight, O Lord, is the death of your servants. (Psalm 116:15)
Prayer: God our Creator, may we not fear death as an ending, but trust in it as a homecoming. As we remember those who have entered into their eternal rest and now live with you forever, may we be blessed by their memory and strengthened by the witness of their lives.

Friday
My days pass away like a shadow, and I wither like grass. (Psalm 102:11)
Prayer: Your love, O Lord, is from everlasting to everlasting.

Saturday
Lord, let me know my end and the number of my days, so that I may know how short my life is. (Psalm 39:4)
Prayer: May I be grateful all the days of my life.