Grandpa Stan

Today on NPR someone was talking about telegraph operators. My grandfather was a depot agent for the Chicago Northwestern Railroad. He lived and worked in towns in western Minnesota and eastern South Dakota. Among the interesting things in my grandparents' basement was an old telegraph key and a number of strange looking glass jars. They were actually telegraph insulators and apparently are a collectable nowadays.


Because Grandpa was used to typing out telegrams, his letters to us were always in all caps. ALL CAPS. It wasn't screaming in those days, just a way to expedite getting the message through. The letters frequently came on railroad note paper used to relay the messages sent to the depot. I still have a few in my old jewelry box of treasures.


Grandpa was also a banjo player. He almost missed the birth of his second child because he was out playing a gig. It was a way to make some extra money and he loved entertaining. At the wedding of his youngest daughter (a 25 year span from eldest to youngest) I remember he played a number of his own creation, "The Lutefisk Rag." Old time jazz with a distinctly Norwegian sense of humor.


As a little girl I always wanted to play with the telegraph key, but somehow felt it was too special for me to use as a toy. I wonder now if I had asked for lessons, if Grandpa wouldn't have taught me the tapping magic of the Morse code.

I also used to wait and wait for him to play the banjo. When we would come for our annual visit, we were almost guaranteed a small concert. And if he came to see us, the banjo usually made the cross country trip. As much as I wanted to hear my grandfather play and sing, I would rarely ask him to play. I though it was an imposition. How silly! The man was born to entertain! I imagine he was just waiting to be asked.

The songs were always fun. "Five foot two, eyes of blue.... has anybody seen my gal?" Stuff from the 1920s or things that he sang with the Glee Club. He had a wonderful tenor voice.


My grandfather died when I was in college. It was 29 years ago this September. My grandmother, a spritely young thing of 97 continues to amaze us all with her energy and vitality. Ah, but we miss that banjo player.

A 6 year old sermon... for next Sunday...

Do you remember what you wanted to be when you were a little kid? Did you want to be a fire fighter and slide down the pole in the firehouse? Did you imagine yourself riding on the hook and ladder truck? Did you want to be the one who rode up front, a Dalmatian at your side as you sounded the siren and raced to help people in need?

Did you want to be teacher? Surrounding yourself with invisible students or stuffed animals or younger siblings - giving them assignments and reading to them in that upside book way that only teachers have?

Did you picture yourself as a famous athlete? Did you practice your swing? Did you practice your autograph? What would it say on your baseball card?

Or were you a famous singer? Crooning into your hairbrush and practicing your moves in front of a full length mirror?

What did you want to be when you were a kid?

My guess is that whatever you imagined yourself to be, you weren’t too worried about the paycheck. Your dreams were based on adventure... or fun... or modeling what mom and dad were doing. Your ideas of what you wanted to be when you grew up had more to do with joy than they did with money. You wanted to do something that made you happy. It’s only as we get older that we begin to concern ourselves with thoughts of career and salary. When you’re a little kid, your dreams are about fun and excitement. You race inside from a day of discovery to announce to all who would listen, “Look what I can do.”

And a weary grown up voice asks, “And how much an hour do you think they’ll pay you to do that?”

If you’re young enough, the answer is, “Who cares! A hundred dollars! A million dollars! Does it matter? Look what I can do!” But if you’re older, you begin to think- hmmm…. "How much money can I make?"

All too often we measure the worth of an accomplishment by what it can earn us. We forget that there are other standards that can give our lives value and merit.

In his letter to Timothy, Paul calls his young friend to see what is really important in life. Remember, he says, “we brought nothing into this world and we take nothing out... And the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil.”

Instead of worrying about paychecks and investments, Paul directs Timothy to pursue righteousness and godliness. Faith and love. Endurance and gentleness. Paul calls Timothy to measure the success of his life not in monetary terms but by how well he has served the gospel and our Lord Jesus Christ. Because that is where his true joy can be found.

Paul ends his letter by saying, “As for those who in the present age are rich, command them not to be haughty, or to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but rather on God who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future so that they may take hold of the life that really is life.”

In our gospel for today, Jesus is sending home the same message. He tells the parable of the rich man and Lazarus to the Pharisees, whom Luke describes as “lovers of money.” And Jesus want all of us to understand how wealth should be used. It’s a lesson not on the evil of money, but on priorities.

In today’s readings we are confronted with an important question, and it is not “Are you rich or are you poor?” as if one or the other would make us a morally better than the other.
The question is not “How much do you have?” but “How much do you care?” And the Lord is very clear in saying, that the message he is bringing is the same one that God has been promoting since the days of Moses and the prophets.

God is on the side of the poor, the outcasts, the prostitutes and tax collectors, widows, orphans, lepers, those whose bodies are twisted and those who cannot see. God cares about them and wants to gather them in to ease their pain and sorrow. And Jesus is calling us to care about them as well.

We are invited to be concerned with issues of justice and righteousness. We are to be sharing what we have with those who are in need. We are to care for the Lazarus at our gate. His welfare is to be our concern. And in caring for those who are in need, we are teaching Christian behavior to those who witness our deeds of kindness.

One of my favorite church songs from childhood says, “God loves a cheerful giver, give it all you’ve got. He loves you when you’re happy, and he loves you when you’re not.”
But I have never found that giving does anything but make you cheerful.

When we were kids, we dreamed of a happy grown up life. A life of adventures and new discoveries.

We weren’t worried about the market. Or our IRA’s. We weren’t too concerned about what kind of salary we’d make. Or what the boss might think of us. We just wanted to do something that made us happy.

Having made it to the grown up world, I have found that what makes me happy, what gives me joy, is serving God. And being in community with his people. Each of us, in our daily lives, have the chance to find our happiness in living the love of Christ. Each of us meets people every day who are yearning to find the life that really is life. Each of us has the chance to cheerfully give and share.

It’s not what you earn that brings you joy, it’s what you do with it.

Remember, it’s not how much you have, it’s how much you care.

The Birds!

This afternoon as I was sitting outside wondering just where, oh where the cat had gotten to, a flock of crows was circling and landing in the cemetary. I suspected that this was a sign that Timothy was not around. Although those big birds could probably have done him a heap of harm.

I have never liked crows. When I was about four we lived in a house at the top of Strawberry Hill Road. Ours was the only yard on that part of the street and it was the logical place for birds to land. My mother had sent me outside to play. At the time she had three children, I was the oldest. I am sure she just needed SOMEBODY to go do something else while she was dealing with diapers and breastfeeding and all the rest.

But those birds SCARED me. To a little girl, they looked huge! And to a little girl it seemed that the birds were not looking for seeds or bugs, they were looking for little girls to attack! I can remember standing at the front door unable to get in. I am quite sure that my mother had not locked me out, she's not that kind of person. But I couldn't get the door open and I was being attacked by malicious, evil, big black birds! Eventually she let me in. I'm guessing she was in another part of the house or running the vacuum or something, but I was being attacked!

Even now I am not inclined to watch showings of Hitchcock's "The Birds." It gives me the willies! In its article on Tippi Hedren, Wikipedia says,

For the harrowing final attack scene in a second-floor bedroom, filmed on a closed set at Universal-International Studios, Hedren had been assured by Hitchcock that mechanical birds would be used. Instead, Hedren endured five solid days of prop men, protected by thick leather gloves, flinging dozens of live gulls, ravens and crows at her (their beaks clamped shut with elastic bands). Cary Grant visited the set and told Hedren, "I think you're the bravest lady I've ever met." In a state of exhaustion, when one of the birds gouged her cheek and narrowly missed her eye, Hedren sat down on the set and began crying. A physician ordered a week's rest, which Hedren said at the time was riddled with "nightmares filled with flapping wings".
I hear you Tippi! And that's my silliness for the day. The cat's at home. The birds have gone to roost. Bug Man is watching football and calling his mom. Soda Chicky is home from church choir practice and has plugged back into her Ipod. All is right with the world.

The kitty came back!

Well, it took him about 22 hours, but Timothy found his way back home. Bug Man said, "I let him slip out and locked the door, but he found his way back!" Such cynicism! The man would have been much sadder than he lets on if the cat hadn't come home. Currently Timothy is wandering around the house crying. He's a goofy old man but we do love him.

Where are you, Timothy?

Our cat has gone for a walk-about and I'm not happy about it. Timothy is a house cat and not completely suited for neighborhood wandering. Somehow he got out last night and he was sneaky about it. It's probably my fault. I was grilling dinner. It was dark and I must not have pulled the screen door shut on one of my comings and goings.

We have had Timothy for ten years now and we've gotten used to him. He's gone on wanders before but not in this neighborhood. We live on a busy street and as I've said before, our backyard is a cemetary. He could be hiding just about anywhere. I am hoping he will come home soon, wagging his tail behind him. But he's an older gentleman and he might not find his way back. Will he remember which house is his? Plus there's that whole big metal car versus little gray cat thing that worries me.

When he has gone missing before, he's come home within 24 hours or so. It's about hour 20 now, I'm hoping he's remembering that this is where the easy food comes from. Sigh....

The Friday Five - What a Mess!

This week's five from the Rev Gal Blog Pals is on clutter. Or maybe it was on neatness? Hmm....

In looking for a piece of clip art, I found this interesting church sign. I don't know where this church is or really what the sign is supposed to mean, but it sure is interesting what you can find when you google!

1. Are you a hoarder or a minimalist? A hoarder. It makes my husband very crazy. The thing is, we still have some weird stuff of his hanging around too. He hoards, just not as much.
2. Name one important object (could be an heirloom) that you will never part with. Can't think of a thing. Under the right circumstances I think it's all up for grabs.
3. What is the oldest item in your closet? Does it still fit??? My baptismal gown and not hardly. Handmade by my mother and very simple, but very long. Soda Chicky looked very sweet in it at 6 weeks.
4.Yard sales- love 'em or hate 'em? Hate holding them. Hate going to them. Mostly I hate it when the neighbors have them because then the Chick wants to go and buy someone else's junk when we have plenty of our own. Thank you very much!
5. Name a recycling habit you really want to get into. We recycle our papers but we have not found an effective way to recycle our plastic and metal since moving to our new address two years ago. In our former midwestern location, the local township picked up all paper, cardboard, glass, plastic and metal for free. Garbage on the other hand, you paid for by the can. So it paid to recycle, literally. Here our trash is picked up from a commercial dumpster and since we rent from our church, there is no provision for the residential recycling company to pick up from our house. Basically, I have to find a way to be less lazy about the whole business.
And for a bonus - anything you want to add.... When I was a grade school kid in Southern California in the late 1960's and early 1970's, we had newspaper drives. Everyone brought their papers. The class with the highest stack of papers won a prize. The goal wasn't to recycle but to earn money for the PTA which sold the papers. Now when there are paper drives, it's not about class parties but the environment. Interesting how things change.

Q: So what is "mono" Mom?

A: Infectious mononucleosis is a contagious illness caused by the Epstein-Barr virus that can affect the liver, lymph nodes, and oral cavity. While mononucleosis is not usually a serious disease, its primary symptoms of fatigue and lack of energy can linger for several months.

Soda Chicky went to the Shore last week with her friend Beach Baby. She came home with a lousy cold and Beach Baby is now home in bed with mono. I have caught Soda Chicky's cold and now I wonder if we are all looking forward to four weeks of fatigue.

I don't have time for fatigue! The Chick has too much homework to get mono right now! I was hoping she'd wait until her freshman year in college to catch this thing!

So for now we'll watch and wait. Chicky hates giving blood so that might keep her from admitting to serious illness... Hmmm.....

47 ain't so bad!

So today was my 47th birthday. Mountain Mama and Papa Joe called me from Germany. It's become a bit of a tradition. They've been in Germany on my birthday for about the last five years. The calls are always short but sweet.

Soda Chicky made me a chocolate chip birthday cookie. It was covered in gooey frosting and totally dear of her. The Bug Man went to bowl with the team tonight so the Chick and I ordered take out Chinese since neither of us wanted to celebrate my birthday by cooking. She and her father gave me a really nice gift- a certificate for multiple spa treatments. I hardly know what to do. Massage? Pedicure? Facial? And I feel no need to share the wealth with the Chick. Mine! Mine! Mine!

The sisters called as did Adventure Girl, the mom-in-law, and sister-in-law. It was a quiet kind of birthday. Went to work. Came home. And really, that was good. I was told I didn't look my age. And that was nice, although I'm not sure what 47 is supposed to look like.

As a kid I always wanted a certain amount of fuss. Not so much as to make my introverted self feel embarrassed, but enough to make me feel special. The nice thing about adulthood is that it doesn't take much to feel special. A cookie with a half can of frosting, a musical card from the hubby and more than my fair share of phone calls. 47 ain't bad at all, at all!

Shooting stars and watching Jupiter

For years, Adventure Girl and I have travelled to places where you might see a shooting star. These trips were usually taken with groups of Lutheran teenagers, but sometimes we were actually on our own. The thing is, Adventure Girl would spot shooting stars with very little difficulty. I would look over the top of my bifocals and hopefully wait for a flash in the sky. As soon as I would look away or go inside to use the bathroom, Adventure Girl would spot something meteoric. I would always miss it. But now, I don't feel so bad!

Every Monday morning on WHYY, the local PBS radio station, astronomer Derek Pitts does "Skytalk". His reports are usually pretty interesting: telescopes, space adventures, scientific advances and this morning... shooting stars! Shooting stars are actually bits of space junk about the size of a grain of sand. Something about the chemical interaction creates the spark, but then, the trail is only the width of a pencil lead!

If I was in a more preacherly mood, I might make something of all this. However, I am just feeling that maybe it's not a surprise that I haven't seen these shining wonders. What is amazing is that we get to see them at all!

On the other hand, I have been watching Jupiter for the past several weeks. It is shining big and bright just over the rising moon. When I sit on my front porch, it is positioned neatly over the bell tower of our church across the street. So cool! And Soda Chicky was impressed that I could point it out to her.

Hungry folks

The Bug Man and I went to serve dinner at the homeless shelter tonight. Chicken, broccoli and noodle casserole was the main dish. Chocolate chip cookies for dessert, but only two per person. Things went well, but we forgot to bring along some aluminum foil. I hadn't served dinner at the shelter for a while so I didn't think of it. Unfortunately no one else thought of it either. It made me feel bad that we didn't have any. It's probably not a big deal, but folks sometimes like to wrap up some of their dinner for later. The whole thing made me think about choices. In my cozy little house with it's too full freezer, I can choose what to have for dinner and when to have it. If I want a second glass of juice or a third cookie, I can do that too. I think choices are one of the luxuries we forget about. We forget to be thankful for the fact that we have options. And the lack of options can make one feel so desperate. It's a hunger that is much harder to fill.

A song for President Skippy and his recent address

Someone's gonna love ya!

A number of years ago, Soda Chicky was a part of the chorus in her elementary school production of "Honk". It's one of those plays that tends to be seen more in children's theater and grade schools than in the "legitimate theater" but it was on Broadway at one time.

There have been a number of people on my mind over the past few days who are needing some grace lavished on them. For them and anyone else who might need it (me included, I suppose) here's one of the joyful numbers from "Honk" the story of the ugly duckling.

Pseudo Grandbaby's Tough Day

Today Pseudo Grandbaby had shots. Four of them, two in each leg. Initially he was his usual happy self. But then post afternoon nap, he realized how crummy he really felt.

I had forgotten how bad "Shot Day" can be for the little ones. They can't really tell you if they feel bad because their legs hurt or if it's because they just feel achey or feverish or what. So they cry. And then after that they weep. This is all followed by more sadness as they struggle to take that much needed second nap.

Pseudo is a very happy baby. Growing strong. Long and lean and very active. When he feels bad I remember how hard it was to deal with Soda Chicky's baby tears. Sometimes I just wanted to join the crying. Sometimes I did joing the crying.

Pseudo's mom and dad are doing a great job of finding ways to comfort their little one. And now I ache as much for them as for the baby. It's bound to be a long night.

Meming for fun

Soda Chicky was reading the Luther Punk's blog of this meme and said, "Mom, you HAVE to do that!" So here you go, Chicky! Now go do your homework!

4 crushes:

1. Chris - during much of the latter part of grade school. He was smart and had a cute smile. By the time he might have noticed me, he moved to a different school.


2. Bruce - during the first half of college. He would call me up to tell me about all the sadness he was having with his long distance girlfriend. I can remember being called after 11:00 midweek, pulling the curlers out of my hair, slapping on makeup, putting on clothes and being ready in under ten minutes so that I could have coffee at Denny's with this guy.


3. Some tall guy at sem - can't remember his name. Hmmm.... After a disappointing response to a theological question I tossed his way, he became much less attractive.


4. The husband - after his mother kept throwing us together, he finally caught on.
   

4 Pieces of Clothing I wish I still owned (and/or that still fit):

1. Dreamy midnight blue strapless that my sister lent me for the "Senior Prom" at seminary. Also known as "the princess dress". I wish this one still fit. I'm thinking my sister wishes the same thing.


2. Norwegian cardigan that got lost in transit after internship. Too many boxes. Bad UPS Man. Very bad UPS Man.


3. Khaki colored two piece dress that was ruined by a dry cleaner in Tiny Town, Missouri. When I pointed out that they had removed all the color from the dress along with the dirt, they asked me if I still wanted the dress. Very strange!


4. My size 7 1/2 shoes. Mommyhood makes your feet a half size bigger, but I still have some of the shoes. Maybe Soda Chicky can wear them?
   

4 names I’ve been called at one time or another:

1. Hildegarde - by my father


2. HRod - by friends in my high school art department


3. George - by my mother


4. Moo-ma - by the Chick
   

4 Professions I secretly Want to Try:

1. Florist


2. World famous novelist


3. Professor


4. Sous chef

4 Musicians I’d most want to go on a date with:

1. Billy Joel - back when we were both younger and cuter. Say 1978.


2. James Taylor - most any day of the week.


3. Mozart - when we were both single and alive and I'd need a Babel Fish in my ear because I don't speak German.


4. Paul Stookey - not for romance but conversation.
   

4 Foods I’d rather Throw than Eat

1. Brussel sprouts - they are really nasty. I don't care what my mother-in-law says, they are vile.


2. Liver


3. Deviled eggs. Cannot stand the smell!


4. Mashed yucca. Had it at a restaurant. Very strange stuff.


5. A runner up: gluten free communion wafers. They are not tasty.

4 Things I Like to Sniff

1. Snow


2. The top of Pseudo Grandbaby's head. (With thanks to Luther Punk.) Baby heads are the sweetest things.


3. Fresh baked bread


4. Brut after shave. It's a Daddy smell from my childhood.
   

Where did you get that outfit!

Luther Punk posted some really interesting pictures of famous folks in their liturgical garb and wondered if maybe wardrobe should be a future topic of ecclesiastical dialog. His entries for craziest outfit of the day were:

But I would like to counter with these two.

What ever happened to basic black? Or white? Or off white? But pink?!? Not this preacher! Mmm-hmm-mmm.

If we do these things in the green wood...

There's a Unitarian Church on my pathway home from work. Almost every Wednesday there are members on either side of the street protesting the war in Iraq. There signs say things like "Honk if you want to stop the war!" I always honk.

I wonder how long they will have to stand on the curbside before all of the troops come home. Not just the "surge" troops, but everyone.

General Petraeus seems to think that 30,000 will come home in the next year. That's good. But that still leaves 130,000 men and women fighting this war.

I thought of an old Peter, Paul and Mary song while I was driving today. If I could find the audio file, I'd post it. But even without the haunting tune, the words are very powerful.


I've seen a thousand people kneel in silence
And I've seen them face the rifles with their songs
I always thought that we could end the killing
But now I live in fear that I was wrong

The killer and the cynic waltz together
Their eyes are turned into their skulls
They do not feel the bullets in the bodies
They do not hear the dolphins or the gulls

If we do these things in the greenwood,
what will happen in the dry?

If we don't stop there'll come a time when women
With barren wombs will bitterly rejoice
With breasts that dry and never fill with promise
Gladly they'll not suckle one more life

Is this then the whimper and the ending?
The impotence of people raised on fear,
A fear that blinds the sense of common oneness
Common love and life or death are here

If we do these things in the greenwood,
what will happen in the dry?

Will no one light the candle in the darkness
Will no one be my guide, not let me fall
I've lost the sense that tells me where the path is
I feel the chill of winter in my soul

There's no way I can say the words more plainly
There's no one left to point at anymore
It's you and me and we must make the choice now
And not destroy the life we're living for

If we do these things in the greenwood,
what will happen in the dry?

If we do these things in the greenwood,
what will happen in the dry?

More About Madeleine L'Engle

In looking for more reflections on Madeleine L'Engle's life and work, I found a web interview that Newsweek magazine did. It's from the three years ago. I include not the whole, but parts. For the whole interview, go to http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/4926262/

What are you working on at the moment? A book about aging: enjoy it, you might as well. And it’s not all bad. I can say what I want, and I don’t get punished for it.

Such as? Such as I sometimes think God is a s--t—and he wouldn’t be worth it otherwise. He’s much more interesting when he’s a s--t.

So to you, faith is not a comfort? Good heavens, no. It’s a challenge: I dare you to believe in God. I dare you to think [our existence] wasn’t an accident. Many people see faith as anti-intellectual.Then they’re not very bright. It takes a lot of intellect to have faith, which is why so many people only have religiosity.

.........

What are you against? Narrow-mindedness. I’m against people taking the Bible absolutely literally, rather than letting some of it be real fantasy, like Jonah. You know, the whole story of David is a novel … Faith is best expressed in story.

If the Bible is not literally true, does that mean we don’t need to take it seriously? Oh no, you do, because it’s truth, not fact, and you have to take truth seriously even when it expands beyond the facts.

So when you call the Bible a book of stories, you’re not diminishing it? Anything but. Right from the beginning, from the story of Eve. Eve has gone on to be considered far worse than she is in the direct Bible story—and David far better. I love the story of Jonah; I think it’s very funny. And I like the story of Esther, as long as you stop about a quarter of the way through, before she turns into a real bloody girl.

I always felt sorry for Vashti, though—the first Mrs. Ahasuerus. All she did was refuse to dance. Yes, she gets forgotten. But that was a very big thing she did, refuse to dance. Enormous.

Thank You Madeleine and God Bless You!

One of my very favorite authors died today, Madeleine L'Engle. In its obituary posted today, The New York Times wrote: "Her works — poetry, plays, autobiography and books on prayer — were deeply, quixotically personal. But it was in her vivid children’s characters that readers most clearly glimpsed her passionate search for the questions that mattered most."

I knew this day would come eventually. She was 88 years old. But I kept hoping she would be around to write just one more, maybe two more books.

I first discovered her books when I was a young teenager. My mother had purchased a subscription for hard covered "classics" for me and my two sisters. A Wrinkle in Time was among these treasured books that I read and reread.

When I reached young adulthood I still found in Madeleine's adolescent novels ideas that stirred my heart and stories that helped me dream. As I grew older I began reading her adult novels, her journals and nonfiction articles. Never was I disappointed by her writing. There was always something for me to glean.

One of my favorite books has always been A Ring of Endless Light. In The Washington Post in 1980, Carol Van Strum wrote: “The cosmic battle between light and darkness, good and evil, love and indifference, personified in the mythic fantasies of the ‘Wrinkle in Time’ series, here is waged compellingly in its rightful place: within ourselves."

In Seminary, I convinced the Dean of the Chapel to supervise an independent study of L'Engle's works. As I reread books and journals, as I looked for more information about this woman, I came to understand more and more how her writing had impacted my faith. She is always so clear in asking the important questions, in admitting her own lack of answers, and in sharing the insights that she has found.

I regret that there will be no more new books from Madeleine L'Engle, but I thank God for her faithful witness, her creative inspiration and the joy that her gifts have given me.

“Why does anybody tell a story?” Ms. L’Engle once asked, even though she knew the answer.

“It does indeed have something to do with faith,” she said, “faith that the universe has meaning, that our little human lives are not irrelevant, that what we choose or say or do matters, matters cosmically.”

On Overcoming...

The Friday Five from the Rev Gals is a bit more serious this week. From the author of the questions, I am preparing this Friday 5 just before I take Chris into hospital for a cardioversion, right now we are all a little apprehensive. But this whole thing has got me thinking, so many of us are overcomers in one way or another, so many have amazing stories to tell of God's faithfulness in adversity. And so I bring you this Friday Five.

Have you experienced God's faithfulness at a difficult time? Tell as much or as little as you like... Yes, but it was not a thunderbolt kind of thing. A dear friend died unexpectedly during my second year at seminary. Gunhild was a mentor, a care giver, an inspiration and a friend to me and she was also an unabashed athiest. Raised in the early part of the last century, her father had made sure she was baptized but as a child he taught her to think that church was probably a lot of bunk. There were a lot of things that happened in her life that made it hard for Gunhild to imagine that there really is/was a God who loved her and the rest of the world. One chief example being the Holocaust. Gunhild's husband escaped from Austria at the beginning of World War II. With the exception of an uncle and brother, the rest of his family died in Auschwitz. When she died, I really struggled with trying to understand what had happened to my bright, caring compassionate friend. A foolish classmate said that if she had rejected her baptism, God would reject her. For months I struggled to believe in a God who would do such a thing. I thought I had lost my faith. But through what seems to me like a very strange set of circumstances, I found myself at a conference on death and dying. The speaker that morning talked about the fact that many faithful people find it almost impossible to express anger at God when a loved one dies. And since they can't get angry with God, they begin to think that maybe there is no God. A light went off for me at that point. It wasn't that I didn't believe, I was just really pissed. God was faithful to me. God was faithful to Gunhild. And I am ever so grateful.

Have you experienced a dark night of the soul, if so what brought you through? In part the wonders of therapy and medicine. In truth, remaining within the community of the faithful even when I wanted to go hide under my bed or run away from home.

Share a Bible verse, song, poem that has brought you comfort? When I couldn't pray any other prayers, I could always pray, "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. God bless....."

Is "why suffering" a valid question? As we try to understand and grow within our relationship to God and other people I don't think there can be any invalid questions. We may not however, like the valid answers. I don't believe suffering is a punishment. It's simply part of the human condition. And God will not leave us alone in times of trouble.

And on a lighter note- you have reached the end of a dark and difficult time- how are you going to celebrate? The things that have been difficult have not usually had a finite ending where I could stop to celebrate. But I laugh more now than I did eight years ago. The "happy pills" are really helpful. ;-)

Blue air all around...

We went to a back yard barbeque today. And there were folks smoking. A pipe, two cigars and one guy with a little tupperware box rolling his own cigarettes. As a closet smoker, (I know it's really, really bad for me,) I was a little fascinated by the variety of smoke wafting through the air. The cross currents through the yard were really interesting. The hostess was a little peaved with her hubby- he brought out the cigars. And for some reason it made me think of a scene from "Agnes of God."

It is out in the back of the convent near the belltower. Mother Miriam and Martha are sitting there talking. Martha is smoking.

MARTHA Does my smoking bother you?

MOTHER MIRIAM No, it reminds me.

MARTHA Would you like one? Huh?

MOTHER MIRIAM I'd love one. Martha hands her a cigarette and lights it for her. Mother Miriam coughs a lot. Martha pats her on the back.

MOTHER MIRIAM I'm out of prac... (cough) ... practice. (cough)

MARTHA All right?

MOTHER MIRIAM Fine thanks...

MARTHA Do you suppose the saints would have smoked if tobacco had been popular back then?

MOTHER MIRIAM Undoubtedly. Not the ascetics of course but, well Saint Thomas More...

MARTHA (chuckles) Long, thin and filtered.

MOTHER MIRIAM Saint Ignatius would smoke cigars and stub them out on the soles of his bare feet. (they roar with laughter) And of course

MARTHA Hand rolled.

MOTHER MIRIAM Even Christ would partake socially.

MARTHA Saint Peter?

MOTHER MIRIAM Pipe!

MARTHA Right...

MOTHER MIRIAM Mary Magdelen?

MARTHA (imitating) Oh, you've come a long way baby.

MOTHER MIRIAM And Saint John would chew tobacco.

Leaning to the Middle

It is almost Labor Day and I am thinking of my father-in-law. Labor Day was always a time when he fired up the grill making ribs or pork steaks. Christmas brought his famous fudge, chocolate chip cookies by the dozen and the best Chex mix on the planet. (He used the expensive mixed nuts and real butter!) We miss Dad but most often I miss him on these barbecue holidays. Memorial Day, the Fourth of July and Labor Day. So in his memory, some words from a Springtime sermon.


Two years ago, my father-in-law died of cancer. He had stubbornly stayed away from the doctor and by the time he started to feel really sick, it was too late to do anything.

He spent the last month of his life in the hospital. And my sister-in-law worried about him being by himself. And it was hard to imagine Dad in a lonely hospital room.

But she needn’t have worried. His pastor came to visit every day. His buddies from the church bowling team came by. Old friends and family sent cards and letters. Customers from his handy man business, called my mother-in-law to check on her and Dad.

There were times when he was alone in his room, but he wasn’t lost or forlorn. Dad knew that his family, his friends and his church loved him dearly. He had their prayers and their support.

A friend of mine used to say that when times are tough, we need to lean to the middle. That way we prop each other up even when we are our most weary selves. We lean to the middle and nobody falls.

The Friday Five... Seasons Change

From the RevGalBlogPals...

It's Labor Day weekend here in the United States, also known as Summer's Last Hurrah. So let's say goodbye to summer and hello to the autumn.

The start of school is always the sign for me that Fall is coming. As a child the thing that was best about all of this end to summer was it meant that my birthday was coming. One year though, the first day of school, WAS my birthday. Not my favorite way to celebrate. The biggest problem my much younger self had was that everybody was so caught up in the excitement of it being the first day of school, nobody really noticed it was MY special day. I have since gotten over all of that, I think.... And now for the list!

1. Share a highlight from this summer. This summer I combined a business trip with a visit to Baby Sister and best friend, Adventure Girl. One night we had an early dinner with lots of red meat and chocolate followed by a movie. It was lots of fun being three women out and about. The conversation at dinner was great. The food was down right hedonistic. The movie met everyone's cinematic needs. A good time was had by all. Of course we felt pretty pitiful when we realized we were home before 10pm!


2. Are you glad to see this summer end? Why or why not? I think I am glad that summer is over. Mostly because I can stop feeling bad about all the things I was going to do that I didn't get to. Now I have an excuse, summer is over! If I get them done now, it's like a bonus prize.


3. Name one or two things you're looking forward to this fall. Getting Soda Chick settled into her new high school routine. I'm really excited for her. I am also looking forward to cooler weather, especially when supply preaching at churches without air conditioning. I am not a woman who "glows" when it's hot. I get wet!
   
4. Do you have any special preparations or activities to mark the transition from one season to another? Getting Soda Chicky new clothes for the new school year. Today's shopping day and I hope we get through it without having too many Mother-Daughter debates. Also, the Husband feels that some kind of grilled pork is required for Labor Day. Preferably ribs or pork steaks. So after the girly shopping it's off to the grocery store.


5. I'll know that fall is really here when the trees on Lincoln Drive are red and gold. When my commute changes color, I'll know that autumn has come.

Things I hope my daughter knows...

My friend the Lutheran Zephyr tagged me for Five Things My Children Should Know. As the Soda Chick is now 14, I hope she has learned many of these things already. And I think she has. But just in case she's reading this, here goes!

1. Nothing can separate us from the love of God! Not anything. No way! No how! Nothing you ever do, nothing you ever leave undone. No power, no vacuum. God will find you, love you and go with you- no matter what.
2. That goes for me too! There's nothing that will ever cause me to stop loving you. You cannot lose my love.
3. Church is a good place to be. It will help you keep focused on what's important. It will always be a place where you can learn new tools for survival. There will always be people at church who care about you. Don't stop going there just because you're having doubts. It's easier to be faithful when you're surrounded by people who are also trying to better understand God, themselves and the world.
4. Follow your joy. Don't follow dreams that are lacking in joy. Find a job/career that helps you be at your best. Marry someone that loves you even when you are being unloveable. Make choices that bring joy to your life. Not happiness, but true joy.
5. Smart and funny is better than pretty and popular any day of the week. Now, let's be clear. I am not saying that you aren't pretty. You are. But what is really important is what's on the inside. And not just your insides, but the insides of the people you hang with. It will be true of the guys you date, too. Plus, the folks who will bring out the best in you, will be the ones who make you feel smart and funny. Does that make sense?

So that's my motherly advice for the day. I would really love to hear what Pink Shoes, Songbird, Reverend Mommy, Soda Chicky and Mountain Mama have to say. Tag! You're It!

Gradual School

Gradual school... from a small voice in The World According to Garp.

I used to think about going to Gradual School. But then I would think, "No. I don't need a DMin. No, I don't think I have the umph to do a PhD." But lately, I've been thinking differently. I am dwelling in the middle of the seminary community and I keep wanting to get in on the studying. I have a friend who is determined that I get another degree and pursue teaching. But what would I want to teach? What do I have to say?

Well, today I took a first baby step. More of an inquiry than anything else. We really can't afford for me to get to invested (literally) in Gradual School since Soda Chicky wants to go to college in four years. Her BA trumps my PhD. But we'll see....

From the middle of yesterday's sermon

Every year, new seminarians begin their study of Lutheran theology. They are very keen to learn how to do things the right way. They want to be good theologians and excellent pastors. They are being evaluated and graded and they are intent on making the right choices.

Some times they worry about how to fold their hands during worship. Some days the issue is the translation of a particular verb. But it is absolutely certain that at some point in the first semester, some one will raise the question of baptism and still born children.

Professor, what do you do if a baby has died and the parents want you to baptize their child?

It’s a difficult situation to imagine. And an all too painful reality for some. The thing is, our Lutheran theology, our doctrine, our rules, say that baptism is meant for the living and that it is not necessary to baptize an infant who has died. Luther very compassionately argues that the tears of the parents are all the blessing that their child needs and that there is no doubt that God welcomes these little ones into his kingdom.

But when faced with grief stricken parents, who insist there can be no other way, do you break the rule?

I have come to believe that whatever you do in a situation like that, make sure, absolutely sure, that you are a sign of God’s love to those people. Try your best to be a means of mending and not breaking. Unleashing and not binding. And trust that God will bless all those involved with his love and mercy.

Soda Chicky's Blog

I told Soda Chicky that I had gone back to my blog which inspired her to start one of her own. I was fascinated to find that she entitled it "Writings From A Pastor's Daughter." Spelling is not one of the Chick's gifts, but her thoughts in her first post were interesting. Maybe it's just because I'm her mom, but I think maybe not. I look forward to reading more from her.

The Chick goes off to high school this fall. I keep wondering how I got so old! She had the choice of two schools. She picked the smaller one which I think will be a great benefit for her. The tough part is that her buddies picked the other school. Having had to start at a new school only two years ago, this adventure is a bit daunting for her right now. But she's a smart cookie and I hope that she will find new friends who will be as much fun as the one's she found last year. Her friend the Smart Blonde is from Poland and will be going back there in just a few short days. Smart Blonde's parents have been in the States with a three year academic program. It's hard for the girls to say goodbye but I am so glad that they found each other. It's been a truly enriching friendship.

Chicky's friend the Chatterbox is going to the other high school. But given the number of emails, ims and phone calls that currently happen, I don't think there's much danger of them losing touch with each other. Two of the other good friends Flying Monkey and Too Clever are still in junior high. Personally I wish Too Clever was about thirty years older so we could hang together. She is an extremely witty thirteen year old. Some day if I hear she won an Academy Award for screenplay or wrote the number one best seller- I won't be surprised.

Flying Monkey will be celebrating her Bat Mitzvah this fall. It will be a great chance for the whole gang to celebrate. They have two months till the event but they've already started planning their ensembles!

Well, I suppose I should get to writing my sermon. Soda Chicky and I have agreed that when you supply they only ask you back if you don't suck. I've been at this parish about seven times in the last two years, so I'd hate to preach a really sucky sermon at this point!

Did you hear obesity is caused by a virus?

When my friend Music Girl told me this, I waited for the punch line. But there is no punch line. And I really wonder who I caught the virus from? It's been much harder to get rid of than this cold I have!

http://archives.cnn.com/2000/HEALTH/07/28/fat.virus.ap/index.html

Rev Gal Pal Friday Five - Cultural Questions

I haven't played the Friday Five in months, but here are today's answers to the question: what unusual engagements with popular culture have helped/challenged you on your spiritual journey?

Book: This is a tough one. I LOVE books. And some of the most significant ones are in that catagory of sort of spiritual. One that really made me think and laugh was Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal by Christopher Moore. I read it while on retreat at Holden Village. It's irreverent and strange and really funny. But it did make me think about issues of culture, faith and ecumenism.

Piece of Music: The Seeger Sessions by Bruce Springsteen. His covers of some of the old spiritual songs have really warmed my heart over the last several months.

Artwork: I have a copy of a painting in my living room that I bought in Geneva over twenty years ago. It is of a rabbi and a Hebrew student. It was painted by Mane-Katz and it is called The Rabbi. The copy of it here is a little darker than the true piece, but you get the idea. The framed print has hung in every home I've lived in since I finished seminary. I just love it.

Film: Movies are a wonderful thing. I think there are several that have informed my faith. Babette's Feast, To Kill a Mockingbird and The Last Temptation of Christ are three oldies. Recently I watched I am David on the Independent Film Channel. IMDB.com has this to say about it.

I Am David is adapted from Anne Holm's internationally acclaimed novel North to Freedom. It is the story of a 12-year-old boy, David, who escapes a Communist concentration camp with little more than a compass, a sealed letter, a loaf of bread, and instructions to carry the letter to Copenhagen, Denmark. David is thrust into the free world for the first time in his young life as he travels across Europe. It is a spiritual voyage of discovery, where David slowly loses his instinctual mistrust of humanity and begins to smile, share, trust and ultimately, love. I Am David addresses the cruelties, politics, and suffering of warfare while celebrating the resilience of youth and the unbreakable spirit of a child.

It's a hauntingly beautiful film that came out in 2003. Joan Plowright and James Caviezel are two of the players. If you see it in the listings, watch it!

I Have a Purple Brain?

Your Brain is Purple

Of all the brain types, yours is the most idealistic. You tend to think wild, amazing thoughts. Your dreams and fantasies are intense.Your thoughts are creative, inventive, and without boundaries. You tend to spend a lot of time thinking of fictional people and places - or a very different life for yourself.

According to this particular blog quiz, www.blogthings.com/whatcolorisyourbrainquiz, I have a purple brain. Now if the truth be known, the same set of quiz questions have probably been used to determine what Simpsons character I am, what flavor ice cream I would be and my similarity to certain aquatic creatures. In other words, this quiz has nothing to do with the color of my brain. I knew it going in. And yet I took the quiz anyhow.

Why? Why do we take these little quizzes? Do we learn anything new? Does it make us feel good about ourselves? Apparently my purple brain is an indication that either I am a genius or my cold medication is really not doing its job!

The whole thing about spending a lot of time thinking about make believe people and places sounds kind of creepy. But again, it could be the bronchitis. Maybe my brain really isn't purple. Maybe I just need a nap and some antibiotics.

The Sabbath

I have a preaching gig on Sunday and I'm a little stuck. Just a little. And I think I'll get over it soon enough. But in the meantime, I keep thinking about our Orthodox neighbors walking in the street. More than once, the Husband has been out working on a Saturday when he has to carefully drive around someone walking to or from Sabbath worship at a local temple. It happens too often to be a coincidence. Being basically a Midwestern girl, this is a new thing for me. I feel a bit stupid, but I am also wildly curious. I have tried googling the whole thing with no luck. Could it have something to do with the Eruv chatzerot? (The art to the left is Eruv for the area where we live.)

Wikipedia, the source of all partial investigations says...

The eruv chatzerot, or "mixed [ownership of] courtyards/domains", operates so that all the residents treat the entire area as their common "home". In other words, it is a religious-legal mechanism that transforms an enclosed shared living area (e.g. a courtyard) into a common one. In order to be enclosed, the area must be surrounded by a wall, fence, or tzurot ha-petah, "doorframes".

In many cases — for example, within a hospital, nursing home, school campus, apartment complex, or a walled city, the demarcation of the shared area consists of real walls or fences.

These fences can also be made symbolically, using stakes and a rope or wire to demarcate doorframes. When an eruv is made to demarcate a contemporary Jewish neighborhood, a symbolic fence is typically constructed in this fashion, using utility poles and wires as well as any solid walls available. Thus, a modern eruv is commonly composed of a series of "doorframes," with the poles forming the doorposts (lechi, pl. lechai'in)and the wire forming the lintel (korah). A natural wall such as a river bank or steep hill can also be used as part of the eruv, as can an actual wall of a building.

I'm mostly just curious about all of this. And as I move past the stickiness of curiosity to writing a sermon, I keep thinking of how hard some folks strive to keep the Sabbath while others see it as just another day. Personally, I think my Sabbath keeping has been less than satisfactory of late. I think God would like me to do more than catch a nap and make a nice supper. Hmmm.....

Hello Pink Shoes!

It's been almost a year since I last blogged. A couple of weeks ago, while hanging out at the ELCA Churchwide Assembly, I met a blogging pal face to face. There she was... Pink Shoes! She said that she missed reading my blog. I said I missed hers and then I started to wonder what had happened to me. Where have I been when I haven't been here?

Well.... I know I helped Soda Chicky with a lot of homework. I know the Husband has been using the computer a lot more now that he has access to MLB.com. (I've been asked to finish this up soon as the Cardinal's game starts soon.) I know I developed a strange love for my imaginary Sims people. But gee whiz! None of those is a good reason not to talk to or listen to Pink Shoes! So, here I am. Don't know if I'll have anything interesting to say, but I'm going to give it a shot.

At age 46, I am the mother of a 13 year old daughter. Readers, don't panic, I am not becoming a grandmother! I'm just old enough.

My staff is all at least 20 years my junior and when the generational gap has been visible I am reminded that "You are old enough to be my mother without having been a child bride." It's true. I don't feel that old, but it's true.

Two of the staff are a married couple expecting their first baby. Today we looked at the first ultrasound picture and while not as fancy as the picture here- the baby was about the same age.

I am not ready to be a grandparent mostly because my daughter is not ready to be a mother. But it is fun to watch these two expectant parents and share in their joy at what is to come. Not from the perspective of peer, but from the perspective of one who's "been there and done that." There's a sadness in knowing you won't go there again, but a joy that comes from watching the next generation come into the world.

So, I'm old enough but not quite ready to be a grandma. So I think I will just practice on this sweet young thing and wait for the adventure that lies ahead.

Long time, no blog...

I have been negligent in my blogging. But as I drive my car up and down Lincoln Drive (an experience akin to go carting) I think of things I could blog. Now if I could just get them into the computer. Well here are a few...

1) My daughter and I saw a group of high school kids walking down the street. Four boys and a girl all dressed in black. "That's an interesting group," I said. "They're goths," responded Soda Chick. I agreed that the boys had that gothic look. But the girl was dressed head to toe in a muslim jilbab. This caused me to wonder, are there Muslim goths? Or gothic Muslims? What do their parents think!?!

2) We are moving into a 162 year old house owned by the same church that owns the parsonage we've rented for the last 15 months. The house is smaller and sits right on the edge of the cemetary. The previous tenants were evicted and for good reason. A note was found by the cleaning crew, "This is not a crack house. It's a crack home." Happily, the place has been cleaned, painted and looks great! A friend asked me, "Are you still going to call it the crack house after you move in?"

3) If something has been in the basement in a sealed box for more than a year, do you still need it? Some say, NO. I say, "I will be glad to find all of my glass measuring cups!"

Things are happening in Mt. Airy!

From the "Philadelphia Inquirer"...

Eileen DiFranco sang the hymns, prayed and took Communion as she had done at countless other Catholic Masses.

But yesterday, for the first time, she led the service as an ordained priest - and received a warm reception from hundreds of Catholics and others.

"Nothing is impossible with our God," she told a congregation at the First United Methodist Church of Germantown. "Not even a woman priest."

It has been my pleasure to have conversations with Eileen DiFranco over the past year and she is a delightful woman. How sad it was to blog her name and find some really nasty blogged comments in another site.

The content of the blog included name calling, slander and petty childishness. I understand that the Catholic church does not approve of these actions and that's their right I suppose. But for faithful people to post comments referring to her as a fruitcake granny just made me mad!

Why can't we have civil dialog about these issues?

Frozen Fab Five from the RevGalPals

This week it's all about ice cream!

1. Ice cream: for warm weather only or a year-round food? Is this a joke? Ice cream could never be considered a seasonal food. It's the manna of my people!

2. Favorite flavor? B&R Chocolate andPeanut Butter or Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby.

3. Cake cone, sugar cone, waffle cone, cup? I could care less about the cone. I want the ice cream. Plus while you're goofing with the cone, your ice cream is in danger of melting or falling off. Who needs that kind of anxiety?

4. Childhood ice-cream memory? Going to B&R and having bubble gum ice cream and spitting out all the gum so that I could chew it all at once. Also, my parents got engaged at the Dairy Queen. I'm telling you, ice cream is key to my heritage!

5. Banana splits: discuss. Bananas should mind their own business and stay on the cereal where they belong. Or they should quietly turn brown before being made into banana bread. I do not need them in my ice cream.

Bonus from the RevGal List Maker: Baskin-Robbins used to make ice-cream sodas. During the 18 months I worked there, I think I made about 3 tops. They're no longer on the menu, but you can still order them. Question: What are the ingredients/steps for making an ice cream soda? Tall glass, pour in syrup, add ice cream followed by seltzer.

Cruciform shapes

I was reading P. Softly's blog and she's been looking for cruciform shapes in nature. As an alternate, she posted a lovely photo of a jack-in-the-pulpit trinitarian photo.

It got me to thinking and then surfing for photos. Here are two for her....

The first was a file from an English seed catalog site with info describing the shapes of blossoms... "Cruciform" had this photo as an example.

The second is a "Cruxifix Fish." My old colleague in Illinois had one on his credenza that someone had given him years ago. If you like it, go to Ebay, baby! You can get anything on Ebay!

CPE... glad that's over!

I have some friends doing CPE this summer and all I can say is "Been there! Done that! Donated the shirt to a worthy cause!"

CPE is an important part of the seminary process, but I'm not sure if anyone ever really understands how difficult it really is. For some, the congenitally shy, it means forcing yourself to "bother the sick and dying" when you're pretty sure that they'd rather see "a real pastor" or no pastor at all. For others, the trouble comes with the therapy. They've never been in therapy before and now they aren't sure why anyone would pay $150 an hour for that kind of torture.

I didn't mind the therapy, but I did find it hard to walk into rooms unannounced and unrequested. But it got better with time. And it was great training for the future.

Personally, one of the things that made CPE the hardest for me was a member of my small group who, unbeknownst to any of us, was trying to kick a heroin addiction while doing CPE. Needless to say, he was very moody! He confessed all of this to me on our last day together. Talk about your pastoral dilemmas! Do you share this kind of info with the supervisor? Or take it to the grave as a confidence?

Any great CPE survival stories are most welcome for my friend KS who, when she isn't tapping on hospital doors, finds a few moments to read this blog.

Bearing False Witness

Years ago, my mother made the snappy retort that "It's not bearing false witness, if it's true." We laughed and moved on, but the comment has stayed with me for years.

Luther's Small Catechism says this about the eighth commandment:
Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor. What does this mean?--Answer. We should fear and love God that we may not deceitfully belie, betray, slander, or defame our neighbor, but defend him (sic), [think and] speak well of him, and put the best construction on everything.

I'm struggling this week. When someone bears false witness against us, what do we do? I try to put the best construction on things. I really do, but this week it's been tough. On the commute home I prayed for forgiveness. Forgiveness for not being more forgiving. For being angry. For feeling slighted.

Don't know what more to say. Just needed to vent, I suppose.

God's Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs --
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

-Gerard Manley Hopkins

Friday Five Zzzzzzz....

This week the Rev Gal Pals are thinking about sleep. God knows I could use some!

1. In what kind of environment do you sleep best? I like to have a cold nose and warm toes. I cannot sleep if my feet are cold. I like a pillow under my head and one to hold. (My husband will only snuggle when he's awake. So pillow it is!) I like it fairly dark, but I'm flexible. Pajamas? That's a personal question

2. How much sleep do you need to feel consistently well-rested? 8 to 9 hours How much can you get by on? 7 What are the consequences when you don't get enough? If I go too long with too little I am bound to get first slap happy then cranky followed by weepy.

3. Night owl or morning person? My father is a classic morning person. Totally chipper and checking his email at 6:00am. My mother is a classic night owl watching old movies until 2:00am. Me? I'm a nap person.

I'm probably more my mother's child, I suppose. But I really like getting plenty of sleep. I hate being tired. So by 11:00pm, it's off to bed for me.

4. Favorite cure for insomnia Prescription drugs or sex.

5. To snooze or not to snooze? Why or why not? Snooze when you can! Sleep when the baby sleeps! Naps are a gift from God!

Personal or Professional?

I had to make a difficult decision this week at work. It was a professional decision, but like most difficult professional choices, it has personal ramifications. I prayed about my choices. I consulted my superiors and ultimately I made what I think was the best decision.

But it was painful.

Working for the church means that people often think that we must make our professional decisions with a different set of rules. But really, that doesn't make sense to me. If I were a banker or a lawyer or a carpenter- I would make my decisions in the same way I do now. My choices are influenced greatly by my faith, but so are the decisions of millions of other faithful people. Just because the church doesn't sign their paychecks doesn't mean that they aren't using the same guidelines that I use.

If church institutions are going to remain viable, we have to make wise choices. Good professional choices.

There will be an ache inside me for quite a while, I know. But I pray that I made the right choice and if I was wrong, that forgiveness is not an elusive thing.

Bishop and Lady!

Today I spent an inordinate amount of time driving from Philadelphia to Worcester, Mass. Somewhere along the way- I can't tell you where- I saw a huge billboard that said, "The Cathedral is Coming!" Even at 65 miles an hour, it caught my attention. I can't tell you the denomination or when the cathedral is coming, but I can tell you that it is being run by Bishop... and his wife Lady... I was fascinated! I never thought of a Bishop's spouse having such an interesting title. Clearly this was not a Lutheran billboard. There's no message in all of this. Just found it interesting. By the way, Lady "Fill in the Blank" had big hair, a healthy dose of make up and quite a bit of shiny stuff in her wardrobe. Hmmm.....

Barbie Doll Pink

I got tired of my blog template. So, in honor of summer and painting your toenails- here's to Barbie Doll Pink!

Personally, I never had a Barbie doll. I had her younger cousin Francie. Francie unlike Skipper did not have completely flat feet. Francie was able to wear a low heel. Nothing too stiletto, though. After all, that was Barb's area! Francie also had less make up and brown hair. She was more demure, less sexy. A basic B cup kind of babe.

I have wondered on occasion about why I had Francie instead of Barbie. There's probably no real reason. And Francie got to date GI Joe as often as the next girl. She had plenty of swinging clothes to wear and she had more than enough fun! But she wasn't the star that Barbie was!

Oh well, it could have worked out worse- she could have been named Midge!

Frivay Five: Summer Blockbuster Edition

Reverendmother from the RevGalPals offered up this week's inspired by the various summer films currently in the theaters or soon to be released.

1. If you were a mutant, what ability would you like to have? Instant transport. More like I Dream of Jeannie than a member of the Xmen.

2. Tell us about a memorable road trip you've experienced. On the way back from my parents' 25th anniversary celebration, my college roomie and I had the trip from Hell. First, she totally froze up the engine on a side trip to Minneapolis. The whole block had to be replaced. Mechanics did not put a rebuilt engine in- just a spare one that happened to be lying around. Second, after picking me up in Chicago we headed west. In Dubuque the "new" engine died and we were stranged on a Sunday afternoon. My cousin drove up from the quad cities we had the car towed to a dealership in Dubuque and we waited. The timing belt was shot. Threee, we got as far as Omaha. The next morning we started up the car and the engine caught on fire. Gas leaking from the various little tubes that had dried up in Minnesota and had not been replaced. With no money we finagled another night in the motel and roomie's brother drove out from Denver to fix the car. We had to get money wired to us from roomie's parents who were on vacation at the time. And this is the short version of the story.

3. Do you enjoy solving riddles and working on puzzles? I love crosswords!

4. Take two of your phobias and combine them to make a campy horror/disaster flick. Falling and undercooked pork. What would it be called? Trychanosis at 10,000 Feet

5. Just how batsh*t crazy is Tom Cruise, anyway? He is totally nuts. I used to really like Katie Holmes, but I am worried about the girl. Tom may be somewhat babe-a-licious, but his elevator buttons are jammed on the fifth floor.

The Empty Tomb by He Qi

My new wallpaper on my work pc. Ooh I love this picture!

Hi Mom!

My mother is reading my blog! And she is totally erudite, so I really think she should make comments when the spirit moves her. So Mom, it's really easy. Even Little Sister #1 has made comments, don't you know! You just click on the "comments" button and follow the directions. It's all quite anonymous and you can be wickedly funny. So this is your personalized challenge. ;-)

Being Lutheran - Is it living in the gray areas or on the razor's edge?

My dear friend the Lutheran Zephyr asked a question a while back about being Lutheran. What does it mean? The first thing that came to mind is that being Lutheran means learning to live with the gray areas. And I suppose I should clarify by saying that I think this is part of being an ELCA Lutheran but not necessarily a part of being WELS for example. The ELCA is not always one to give black and white answers and I like that. Some examples...

On the topic of abortion, the social statement of the church states that whatever decision a woman or couple may make, there will be grief and a need for healing. I appreciate the wisdom in all of that. There's more elbow room to struggle with the impact of this choice pastorally and faithfully.

On the topic of Biblical inerrancy, the ELCA constitution says that we believe all scripture to be the inspired word of God. This means that I have had parishioners with a wide variety of beliefs about inerrancy and all of them could be comfortable with the constitution of their church.

Some people don't like when things get fuzzy or gray. But I'm not sure that this is about the gray areas as much as it is about living on the razor's edge.

The Razor's Edge is a 1944 novel by W. Somerset Maugham. In the 1984 film of the novel, the main character, played interestingly enough by Bill Murray, is told "The path to salvation is narrow and is difficult to walk as a razor's edge." What I mean by all of this is that as a Lutheran, I am encouraged even challenged to struggle with what it means to live a life of faith. I am not lead around by the nose. Instead I am called to carefully think and pray and discuss the issues of the day.

Over and under and around all of this are some concrete things. Sola Fide. Sola Scriptura. Sola Gracia. Simul Justus et Pecatur! Faith, Scripture, Grace. I'm a saint and sinner all rolled up into one. I am justified and I am being sanctified.

This I Believe

This is a late addition to the RevGalPal's Friday Five Meme. Five things that I believe...

1. That being a Christian is a lot like making lefse. It's a very simple recipe but it's hard work to get it right. For those unfamiliar with lefse, it's Norwegian flat bread. You make it with leftover mashed potatoes, cream and flour. Very simple recipe. My mother makes great lefse. Mine, not so good. I complained because she had told me it was easy to make. "No," she said. "It's very simple, but it takes a lot of practice and hard work to make good lefse." I believe being a Christian is simple, but the act of living a faithful life takes lots of practice and hard work.

2. Children should go home from church having these things in their pockts: a) God loves them; b) the people at church love them; 3) church is a nice place to be; 4) there are valuable tools for living to be found at church. "Children" should not be limited to those under 21 years of age.

3. Chocolate, bread with real butter and red meat are not bad for you. They are spiritually sustaining.

4. Books should never be thrown away.

5. The Bible is not about how things happen/ed. It's about who and why. Most religious arguments seem to center on the how.

Where did May go?

Okay, it's been a month and I haven't blogged. What are my reaons/excuses/explanations? In no particular order...

The hubby and I have spent a lot of time working on our financial plan, such as it is. We're trying to spend less and save more. And for the first time in our fifteen year marriage we are actually having weekly budget meetings.

Sodachick has had a lot of homework lately. I now know a lot more about genetics, the Civil War, and irregular French verbs. Actually I probably knew it all before, but I forgot.

I spent 18 days in a row at work. This is not unusual for many of us, but it does take up one's time.

And finally, I am addicted to "Fish Tycoon" which is a simulated game that involves hatching, doping, mating and selling imaginary fish. Sodachick and I have five tanks going and at any given time the fish are going belly up or we're making bundles on their prolific mating patterns. Clearly I need to get more of a life.

Pink Shoes and Softly- thanks for checking on me! Zephyr- let's do lunch when you're back in town.

Next time I want scratch n' sniff!

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