Thankful Thursday

The little stinker said "Thank you God for watching TV" in his prayers...

So I am thankful for all the usual big things, health, love, safety
but also some little things...
* a great trashy romance book (Gotta love Red Dress Ink)
* homemade iced coffee
* clean laundry (OK a clean towel..)
* "the regulars" at the library
* new crayons (a donation!)
* The Indian-American boy who comes in every Wednesday and calls me "Auntie"
* 15 minutes of quiet all to myself (more would be wonderful...but I might fall asleep)

Let's get happy! -some kid jokes

The performer hired for yesterday's library program came a half hour late. GRRR.
I volunteered to "entertain the troops" while my co-worker phoned and waited.
So I asked if anyone had a joke they would like to share.
These are a few of the good ones (they are 3-5 graders).

What's brown and sticky?-------------A stick!
What did the digital clock say to the Grandfather clock?---------------Look! No hands!
What do you call a boomerang that doesn't come back -------------A stick!
Why don't bicycles ride themselves?----------------------They're two tired!
and my personal favorite
What do you get when you mix onions and beans?----------Teargas!

Vocations or What I've learned...

(I apologize for being so late...internet probs)

Someone once said that "If you want to make God laugh, show him your plan."
I've always been one to plan. I love lists and datebooks. I'd have made a much better farmer than a hunter/gatherer. And things rarely go the way we plan. And still we make them. Its part of our world, our culture, our nature...especially mine.

The past week has been one of unplanned reflection for me. Looking back over where I've been and how I got here, particularly in relation to God and religion. Reflection is good for me...I usually go go go. I've had the opportunity here to see connections I had misssed before...how coincidence and happenstance have lead me on a path that grows closer to God.
But its not really coincidence is it?

God has put obstacles and angels in my way. Obstacles to trip over and angels to pick me up. These angels are just ordinary people, who have meant the world to me and they may not know it. I didn't realize what some of them were until recently. Some were teachers, nurses, roommates, aunts, friends and but many were relative strangers.

God is making a path for me...its not ordained ministry. But its ministry. Its librarianship, its mother, wife, pastor's wife, citizen and friend. And maybe I can be an angel for someone else.

My Religious History (Part 5)

I would love to be able to say that I was really supportive of Hubby's call. But I wasn't. Go off to seminary for three years? Move? What about jobs? What about our dogs? And most importantly...you want to talk about this when I'm pregnant!?

Pregnant. Full of hope and worry. Now I knew what could go wrong. I couldn't hold two things in my head. Job and new baby. That was it. I couldn't handle anything else. So seminary had to go on my back burner. Hubby applied, not without my knowledge but without me paying much attention. He got Inquirer status and took his Psych tests. And I knew about all of this but didn't dwell on it much. It must be hard to understand that I know. We'd talk about the future and seminary in snippets, for as long as I could handle. Hubby was so gentle with me. Now I realize how difficult it all was, trying to balance his call with my delicate feelings.

We had weekly appointments with a high-risk OB. Weekly ultrasounds. Praying for the baby to make it to 31 weeks when it would have a better chance in the NICU. We found out he was a boy rather early (weekly ultrasounds) and named him, feeling like we could know him better that way. I was silently convinced we'd lose him too.

Flash arrived 3 weeks early (Yay!) in February. We had a blood type problem between us so he needed a little extra care. But we went home on the same day! And he was huge in our eyes even though he was only 6.5 lbs. And he ate and slept and grew and when he was three weeks old I told Bill that it was OK, we could go to seminary now.

We told our jobs. Decided between two schools. Packed (with TONS of help from my wonderful Mother-in-law) and put the house up for sale. And we moved here in time for July Greek. Husband, wife, child and two dogs at seminary.

I realize now what good care we were in. God led us along gently. Seminary has been so good for both of us. Hubby is learning what he needs to know to be a good pastor and I have been learning about God's good grace through our story and through others'. Through the wonderful people we've met, I've seen a whole different side of religion, christianity and holiness that I never saw before we joined our church in Georgia, before I met Hubby. I have bible study group of wonderful christian women from different traditions and they are bringing me along too. God is showing me through the wonderful people I have met and looking back..he's been with me through many of the people that helped me along the way. I wish I'd known sooner.

Friday 5: Feelin' Hot Hot Hot

1. What's the high temperature today where you are?
92 tomorrow and sticky. But probably no rain to make it really steamy.

2. Favorite way(s) to beat the heat.
Iced coffee, lemonade, air conditioning!
We didn't have air conditioning when I was a kid. On hot, no-air-moving nights we'd put damp washclothes on our feet.

3. "It's not the heat, it's the humidity." Evaluate this statement.
Its BOTH. Ick!

4. Discuss one or more of the following: sauna, hot tub, sweat lodge, warm-stone massage.
I really don't know anything about these things. Hot tubs sound like a winter thing to me.

5. Hottest you've ever been in your life.
I lived in south Georgia, below the "gnat line" for two years. Families without air conditioning lived at that library in the summer. I remember poor little children taking their naps in the picture book area.

Non-temperature related bonus: In your opinion... who's hot?
Hubby, naturally!
In the celebrity world...John Cusack is my favorite...since Say Anything.

An aside

These past few posts are mine alone and many things have been left out. Hubby's call story is his own and he has been invited to share it here when and if he wants to.
Today is our sad day.

My Religious History (Part4)

Did you know that there was a mini-Baby Boom in 2002? Many people, shaken by the events of September 11 th, presumably, re-evaluated their lives and decided to start a family. I guess we were a part of that.

Everyone tells you how hard and awful pregnancy is -how terrible you feel, how tired, you get puffy and your feet swell and then, of course there's labor! So I felt terrible. I didn't know I wasn't supposed to feel that terrible. Or when the whole puffiness thing was supposed to happen.

Week 26 - We went away to the beach for the 4th of July week with some friends who were also expecting (and our jet-setter friend too.) On July 4th I felt completely awful and had a terrible tightening pain across my chest. At Hubby's insistence I called my OB/GYN from the beach, just as we put the hamburgers on the grill. Dr. Pope said she'd really like me to go to the local hospital and get checked out. Tiny resort town hospital checked me out and talked to my doctor in Atlanta and decided that we should drive straight through to our hospital in Atlanta - no stopping. Wonderful Hubby drove through the night, I laid on my left side in the back of our station wagon. We arrived very early in the morning and I was admitted.

I have to say that all of this was very fuzzy, I was very sick. Its called HELLP syndrome and its a relative of pre-eclampsia. Basically high blood pressure was squeezing my liver and untreated means seizures, coma, death. The treatment is to deliver the baby.

The doctors looked through the ultrasound and asked if we knew what the gender was. We had wanted to know but this baby, whom we'd nicknamed Momotaro (the Peach Boy) was bashful and always had its legs closed. "Well, you've had so many bad surprises today, I let you have this good surprise later". As they prepped me for an Emergency C-section, Hubby and I decided on a name, prayed, kissed and cried.

When I returned from the c-section Lillian was in the level 3 NICU. I was on heavy anti-seizure medication and was unable to see her for several days. She was 1 lb. 9 oz. but holding her own.
And Hubby was my rock.

I got better, went home and pumped milk for her. We were lucky in that we only lived 7 miles away so we could go visit her. She lived in her Isolet for three weeks before her tiny body was wracked by an infection. The nurse baptised her and then our pastors came and baptised her again and anointed her with oil. She died. We got to hold her for the first time. And we went home without our baby. That was four years ago, tomorrow.

Its interesting how different people react to such a thing. Hubby was glad to have me and to have had some time with our daughter. We had learned a lot about her in those three weeks. She had eyelashes and fingernails, dark hair like me, was feisy and kicked her tiny feet. She could wear his wedding ring as a bangle bracelet. He threw himself into work and into church.

I was numb and sad and angry. Where do you direct your anger? Where do you place blame? Maybe at the doctors who maybe should have seen how badly my pregnancy was going (wonderful doctors, I don't blame them)? Perhaps I was at fault since my health was not optimal to have a baby (but women of all shapes and sizes get HELLP)? No, I directed my anger at God.

But you have to believe in Him to be angry with Him, don't you? We went to church each week (Hubby insisted) and I cried through the service. I went to a support group and to grief counseling. Someone suggested the Lamentation Psalms. I went back to work and found a substitute for my Lapsit Baby program. Fall passed, my friend had her healthy baby girl, Advent arrived. I never realized how powerful Advent is until that year. Advent is about the anticipation of a child, but not just a child. It is the anticipation of a great hope.

Hubby started to attend night classes that spring at the local seminary. I joined the PW and a pottery class at the Rec department. We were table parents at Church Night and did the kid's Lenten classes. Hubby started to talk about seminary, I started to talk about a new baby. And we prayed.

My Religious History (Part 3)

We left small town Georgia for Big Town Georgia. Well, alright, we moved to the Metro-Atlanta area. Hubby worked for the Feds and I worked for the local Library system that doesn't win big awards but it doesn't lose huge lawsuits either. Had a great little library that I managed in a great area. Love that town!

We'd lived in our apartment about 6 months and were doing just fine until Oscar night. I love to watch the big award shows...its part of the my horrible celebrity gossip habit. I watched the whole thing and it goes really late each year. Got up to go to bed about 2 hours later than usual and noticed it was hazy in the apartment. Hubby opened some windows and noticed that it was hazy outside too. He went outside and discovered the roof was on fire. He starts yelling for everyone to get out and luckily everyone did. Luckily a man in the neighborhood behind the apartment complex was out walking his dog and heard Hubby yelling "Call 911" and called the fire department immediately.

There were 4 apartments. The college students and their "visiting" dog were the only ones who had no insurance. The African-American couple had only moved in two days before and above us was a young Indian couple. Most of their apartment burned, except for their bedroom closet, which was where their papers and passports were. Our apartment didn't burn but was flooded with hundreds of gallons of smoky water. We weren't allowed back in for three days, because of structural concerns, and the mildew had set in and our post-college plyboard furniture had sucked up as much water as it could. Electronics were waterlogged and dangerous. So we lost things but we were safe, our neighbors were safe, even the pets. Thats what's important.

My co-workers turned out to help us. Our community turned out to help us. And we went looking for a church. A wonderful woman at the library invited us to church - Gently, so gently but more than once, until I mentioned it to Hubby. It was a Presbyterian church and it was close, friendly and "in the community ". So we went as anonymously as we could, the new children's librarian and her husband. We stayed for coffee. WE brought something to the potluck. Soon we had an appointment with the pastor to discuss...faith. I wasn't sure I could join a church as conflicted as I was about God, Jesus, the Pope and sin. I wasn't sure I wanted to "join" at all. I mean can't you just go to church? Do you have to be a member? Hubby insisted on this point and the Pastor, wonderful man, answered every question. Even the strange ones. (Like, can I still like the Pope? What about Mary? Predesti-what?) And I felt reassurred and I decided to join too. Although the session meeting I had to attend to be accepted gave me pause I'll tell you. Scripture reading, hymn singing (a capella from the hymnal? Come on folks, I just joined!) bible study, and then a long business meeting? But, that seems to be the way Presbyterians do it. Decently and in the order of the very long agenda.

I was asked if would teach children's Sunday school. I asked if I had to and was told to pray about it. Hmmm. That seemed like an awfully strange suggestion to me. I declined, knowing that I was the last person they should ask. Yes I was good with kids, but that didn't mean I was a good representative of faith, right? So we went to church all that summer, until wonderful Pastor felt another call. Darn him. And the interim wasn't as comfortable and we weren't bonded enough with the rest of the congregation to "hang in there with them." So we worshipped at Bedside Baptist or Our Lady of Peaceful Slumber or what ever you've heard it called.

Until our tragedy.

My Religious History (Part 2)

I met him in college. He was Presbyterian and although he didn't attend the University church often...he did attend. His family was very involved in church, his mother was an elder. Going to church with his family was very different. Not formal and all-eyes-on-you unwelcoming. Not un comfortably unchurchy. Not frighteningly quiet (How do those Quakers do it?).
Everyone was friendly and enjoyed catching up with each other. They welcomed me yes, but they welcomed each other too. I'll admit I giggled when I saw the tray of little cups of grape juice (grape juice and real bread!). They had a woman pastor! They prayed what was in their hearts aloud. I wasn't ready to give up my non-religion though.

If asked at that time, I may have said that I was spiritual, not religious. (Ugh) What I meant by that was thatI believed in God and I prayed. I believed fervently that there was some great plan of God's that made things make sense somehow from afar. My parents divorce was horrible and has had ripple effects through my life, but I was able to look at it in my teens with new eyes. My parents were as different as night and day. I have no doubt that they loved each other at one time. But my father is quiet, neat, hermit-like but with a wicked sense of humor. My mother is bubbly, social, always working on three projects at once and doesn't get his humor (I should know, I inherited it). Once I figured that out, I realized that God had a plan for me, because he had brought these two wonderful different people together to have me and my sister.

So I believed and I prayed. Our Father and Hail Mary were the ones I knew, so those were the ones I said. And I had some religious role models, those three nun-aunts. The most influential of them was Sister Eulalia (nee' Kitty). There are many stories about her and I wish to do them justice in their own posts but I will say that she visited each summer for several weeks and took care of our little single parent family. She brought me foreign coins from her travels and said her rosary while walking around the tree in the backyard (or the dining room table when it rained) and always wore her full habit. And she sent us advent calendars every year. And she was kind and powerful and mysterious and exotic. And she had a very special relationship with God. I think she would have loved Hubby.

Hubby and I got married while we were in grad school. We married in the big University Presbyterian Church right after Christmas and went to live in South Georgia while he finished school. If college had been a shock religiously then South Georgia was twice that. I was a minor celebrity as the local children's librarian so we were courted by several churches. Library patrons asked me to church and revivals and suppers and not realizing the culture I found this incredibly intrusive. In a small southern town, church is often your social network, your friends, your "church family". I didn't know anything about this and it made me distinctly uncomfortable. So we went to church when we visited his family and "avoided playing favorites" the rest of the time.

Not knowing it, we prayed separately. But possibly for the same things.

My Religious History (Part 1)

My mother and her family were Irish Catholic. We had three nuns and almost a priest (this is a point of pride in an Irish catholic family - to have a priest. Michael died while in seminary...but enough about that).

My father's family were mixed-religions. Grandma was Presbyterian, and Phil (Grandfather) was a strict Methodist's PK who disowned him when he divorced his first wife. So when my father was a boy they sent him to church. He was told to walk to the Presbyterian church 5 blocks away on Sunday mornings. Since they didn't go and wouldn't know, he walked to the Episcopalian Church around the corner instead. Such a rebel! Meanwhile my mother was in Catholic school in the next town.

They were married at St. Aloysius. I don't know if they attended church before I came along but, I was christened in that same church. They divorced when I was four. But its hard to be catholic and divorced. The priest was unsympathetic to a young mother with 2 children. Church was not just unwelcoming but in some ways hostile, I imagine. Mom sent me to CCD on Tuesday nights until I was 8. But not church.

We went at Christmas, Easter and when a catholic relative visited (especially the nuns). Even then we didn't go to our "regular" Catholic Church. We went to the local catholic university's chapel which was very impressive and holy looking. We went to the Unitarian Universalist's for a few weeks when I was in middle school. But it didn't feel like church. My sister went to the local Quaker Meeting's Youth Group in Middle and high school with a friend. That's the group she mostly identifies with now, although she doesn't attend.

I went to college in the south. For a northerner it can be a shock to arrive in the Bible Belt. Religion had always been a private matter, rarely discussed and never displayed. Sidewalk preachers, hallway prayer meetings and such felt very inauthentic to me. I found the Newman Center (for Catholic students) and attended when I felt I needed forgiving.

And then I met my hubby.