Happy?

About a year ago I attended meetings to support those with bi-polar disease and depression. Though raw and troubled, the people made me think about important things.

Lately, I have been thinking of one man in particular. When he came to meetings, the ravages of his disease were visible and palpable. It was all he could do to sit for the duration of the meeting without becoming agitated and hostile. But in a strange, yet gentlemanly way, he was able to detect his boundaries (very hard for a bipolar) and left when it became too much for him. It sounds sad, but it appeared from my unprofessional observations that it was his way of separating for his health and others. He was intelligent, well read, older and hanging by the chemical threads of his latest brew of meds.

One evening, he asked if anyone in the group was happy. He asked, "Will anyone of us EVER really be happy?" He was truly sincere. All kinds of inadequate answers floated across the table. I went into a typical Christianized mode speaking about the temporality of happiness and that it is joy that is possible. He left nevertheless after everyone's patronizing

Lately, I've thought about that question. If our goal in life is to be happy, we will be disappointed. But, he was asking for a crumb, something his problem had not allowed. It really made me think. He was very real to me---honest. And I think there were no demons to be cast out that night--just a good question posed by someone who didn't have or who never had the luxury of distracting himself with normalcy or tepid sanity.

Bird Watching 101

Anyone who is close to me knows I have a thing about birds, especially the common unpopular ones. They connect me to God in a special way. When filling their feeder today, the beauty of the weather and sounds of their singing overwhelmed and suspended me for a moment and out of nowhere the first line of Psalm 24 came wafting through my thoughts.

The Earth is the Lord's and everything in it, the world and all who live in it.


What an unexpected moment. How comforting those words are. Everything belongs.

Emotional Wisdom: Note to Self

Anyone can become angry---that is easy. But to be angry with the right person, to the right degree, at the right time, for the right purpose and in the right way---this is not easy.

Aristotle

Book Tag

Okay Cheryl, here it is. I ‘m nervous when it comes to discussing books because I don’t consider myself well read especially where fiction is concerned. I started a journey to read great literature over a year ago, but I have taken few steps. I get contemptuous taunts from Virginia Wolf and Cervantes every time I dust their spines. Yet, in my ridiculous quest to be “edjamucated,”I continuously buy more for the journey. Brothers Karamazov and Daisy Miller just rolled their eyes. I also do that awful thing and read two or three books at a time...must be part of the mood thing.

1. How many books do you own? I own too many. I just counted and had to stop. It is in the hundreds, many are unread. I think a book compulsion has been discovered!

2. What was the last book you bought? I bought a used copy of, That Hideous Strength by C. S. Lewis in the used section of the library. It is the third book of his Space trilogy and basically is a parable about the degeneration of man as a result of his worship of scientific materialism.

3. What was the last book you read? I just finished the last pages of Blue Like Jazz by Don Miller. I read most of it several months ago and got distracted. It was humorous and meaningful, but I enjoyed Anne Lamott’s version, Traveling Mercies, much better.

4. Name five books that mean something to you. This is hard. I would never part with my copy of, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. I love her style of writing and the book themes are so wonderful. I think the essence of children is captured so well in this story.

The Return of the Prodigal Son by Henri Nouwen is a very important book for me spiritually. I loved that he became spiritually inspired through a masterpiece of Rembrandt. It’s a good example of the role art plays in worship and creativity. Tied with the Prodigal is N.T. Wright’s, The Challenge of Jesus. It had an effect on how I thought about what my mission in life might be.

I really got emotional after reading Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver. She is an excellent writer. It’s a great picture of the underlying dysfunction of, families, the church/religion and nations; with nature of course always having the last word. I was born on the continent and in the same time of history in which the story takes place in.

Eloise by Kay Thompson is one of my favorite children’s books. There is really something in this book you are supposed to get. I identify with Eloise. I like to think about Jesus as Eloise thinks about her nanny... He is my, “ Mostly Companion.”

I think I am relatively still sane because of the words in the book of Psalms. I believe its human writers were inspired to draw upon and embrace the beauty of worship, mystery, creation and suffering. My favorite chapters are many but I love chapters 23 and 42.

If I really read more literature this list would probably change, but this is how it is off the top of my head right now...I tag Kristine, Ramon, and Sherry.

Bronwyn at Eight

She is eight. I would like to freeze her at this age.

Today we had a delightful conversation in the Target snack bar while Caitlin was at her violin lesson. It was not so much the depth or content of the dialogue; rather it was her intensity and innocence about life. It was one of those great parental circumstances when you know the moment is special or perhaps, sacred and will disappear like vapor. As I sat with her, I had this instance where I was totally taken in by her. I could feel the future and saw myself remembering her there in Target (of all places) with her big blue eyes, tousled hair and her retainer sitting on the table as she is telling me all about her visit to the gym or what happened on the last episode of Full House.

I want to freeze her like this, a little girl with long legs and arms talking about how much she loves little babies and how she wants to take ballet and will I ever have another baby...pleeeeeeease?

I want to remember how open and funny she is. I want to remind myself that out of the blue at precisely 4:06 pm in Target she promised me she would never smoke because it would probably kill her and why would people keep making things that would kill people?

I will miss this certainty of innocence; this time of her unfeigned life when it would be fine if I had a baby and it was not “okay.” She would still love her even if she didn’t have a hand like the little baby at the gym.

I have been a single parent all week and as you know that can be stressful. But it is moments like today in the hustle and bustle of a busy consumer temple which remind me how special a child’s life is. This time will never be repeated. I am reminded of the importance of being present in every moment of life because, as some wise words I recently read so perfectly put it, "That which we are present to is that which we are becoming."

A Hard Week

This week Caitlin was formally diagnosed with Scoliosis. She was fitted for what will be an extremely restrictive and uncomfortable brace which will need to be worn for 23 hours a day.

The fitting process itself was very hard on her modesty and the realization of eighteen months of observation and restriction with no guarantee of preventing a corrective surgery was about all she could take. Many tears have been shed.

The type of curve she has is considered borderline. This means the brace will keep the curve from progressing during her adolescent growth, but may not be enough to prevent her from having to undergo surgery--which her doctor seems to be leaning towards. It is unknown now just how much of a genetic dose she has of scoliosis and the unknown is making our imaginations run wild as we try to grasp for some sense of control over this. I feel like Santiago in Hemmingway’s Old Man and the Sea…the first shark has bitten my perfect prize. But like Santiago, I hope to endure with grace under pressure.

Trying to set aside my need, or rather, my illusion of control, I am attempting to draw on the richest places that have been mined by the trials I’ve passed through. My "mother" prayers go to One who holds it all in his hands despite my symptoms of fear, anger, sadness and lack of faith. I ask him for healing and acceptance of whatever form he chooses to deliver it.

As Caitlin’s community, will you pray for her however you are led? My specific requests are that she will not require surgery; that she will have strength and courage to deal with what seems to be way beyond the scope of a young girl and for her self-image to develop in a healthy and whole way. I also ask that you pray our family grows closer and each of us deepens in the love of our Father during this stressful time.

Black Monday

Today I am irrelevant and wobbly. I have fallen through the hole in my net. But my coffee tasted so good because I learned to add a pinch of salt to the grounds.

He is not here; he has risen, just as he said.

On the first Easter morning, the apostles and the holy women did not see a ghost of Jesus. They saw him in the flesh, but in a different flesh, as the oak tree is different from the acorn that was its origin. We touch on the mystery of a body, not just Jesus’ body but our own, which will express us at our best, will not blunt our spirit with weariness and rebellion, but express it with ease and joy. This is a mystery beyond our imagination, but it is the centre of our faith. As we grow older, nothing in our faith makes more sense than the Passion and the Resurrection, the certainty that our body, like Jesus’, must suffer and die, and the certainty that we, in our bodies, have a life beyond death. - Sacred Space

Ice Cream Social

Bronwyn has completed her Ice cream graph based on those who responded. Chocolate was the winner. Orange sherbert was second and strawberry came in third. As a thankyou, we are bringing ice cream tonight to serve in cones after the meeting. Hope to see you there.

Help Bronwyn

Bronwyn has to make a graph. She has chosen to compare information on three ice cream flavors: Chocolate, Strawberry, and Orange sherbert. If you came to her party, which flavor would you choose.


Thanks

The Family of God

Twenty years ago Gregg and I attended a major denominational church. We were married there, sang in the choir, dedicated Caitlin at the altar and were, what we believed, committed to the body.

From time to time the pastor, a loving man, would stand before his flock and announce the numbers of people that had been added to the church that month through their confession of Christ and baptism into His family. We were briefed on all the successful Sunday school and witness training programs and the upcoming, exciting Cantata the choir was working on. The word of God was being preached and we were giving enough money to not only support our missionaries, but to even dream about televising our Sunday service to those shut-ins and remorseful gamblers unable to be with us in God’s house. We had baptized so many people in one period that a prominent member of the denomination made a gracious appearance to don the spiritual feather in the cap of the faithful.

Somehow, I think these presentations and visitations were meant to give us some sense of security that we were getting it right as successful harvesters in the Lord’s kingdom. Did I mention that the church served a meal made by the women of the church and fed mostly homeless people every Sunday evening without fail?

Not a few years later, this congregation met one Sunday with one group of individuals on one side of the pews and another on the other side. They spent what was meant to be a worship service in red-faced-jugular-bulging shouts of bitterness and division over the pastor’s desire to leave the present building to plant anew in the growing Northwest.

After their volleys of rage had done the damage, the pastor’s resignation was demanded. Of all the figurative “church barbecues” I have been to--- this one was the worst. No perceived success could have compared or overcome the real failure that was at the core of this congregation’s heart. It was all a façade. It was a time of great disillusionment.

Tonight I listened to a man tell a small group of people that he desired to be with them because he had fallen in love with them. I don't know why but I found this refreshing. The people he loves will probably never be congratulated by some celebrated member of the moral majority for congregational successes, and their sermons won’t be televised. But, his friends are the most successful people because they have loved him as they were commanded to do. Their obedience to be faithful in their love and presence in his life has made him a Genuine Success. Tonight, without numbers, programs or Cantatas, someone communicated authentically the core of fellowship.

I feel this night was glorifying to God. Intentional love is a mustard seed which deserves the patience to produce growth and fruit. Ironically, in this obscure catacomb experience, I remembered the words to a song my previous congregation would sing. They attempted, but never truly embodied the words. Some of you reading this may remember the words………(Yes they are cheesy)

I'm so glad I'm a part of the Family of God,
I've been washed in the fountain, cleansed by His Blood!
Joint heirs with Jesus as we travel this sod,
For I'm part of the family,
The Family of God

Answer

He could no longer bear
The aggression of sparrows,
The din of crows in the trees;

And no pity remained in his heart
For the starlings tcheering on the lawn,
Unkempt and hungry after their journey.

He began to berate the God of Birds
Until walking by the sea at Kilcoole,
Two swans came towards him,

White and suddenly on the water.

-Pádraig J. Daly

What a beautiful poem about God's mercy and forgiveness. I need to take a walk beside the sea at Kilcoole.

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 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.

Gerald Manly Hopkins

Stars and Dots

I have been trying to read to the girls in the evenings. Thursday night they chose all the stories they liked when they were “little.” One book, You Are Special, written by Max Lucado, which wasn't one of their favorites, made its way in the stack. It really got my attention as I read it.

This is an excerpt from the beginning of the story:

The Wemmicks were small wooden people carved by a woodworker named Eli.
Each Wemmick was different. Some had big noses, others had large eyes. Some were tall and others were short.

Each Wemmick had a box of golden star stickers and gray dot stickers. The wooden people went around the village sticking stars or dots on one another.

The pretty ones got stars. Wemmicks with rough wood or chipped paint got dots.
The talented ones got stars too. Some could jump over tall boxes or sing pretty songs. Others, though could do little. They got dots.

Punchinello was one of these. He tried to jump high like others, but he always fell. So the Wemmicks would give him dots. When he tried to explain why he fell, he would say something silly, so the Wemmicks would give him more dots.

“He deserves lots of dots,” the wooden people would say. After a while Punchinello believed them. “I guess I’m not a good Wemmick,” he decided. So he stayed inside most of the time.
When he did go outside, he hung around other Wemmicks who had lots of dots. He felt better around them.

The story goes on to tell that one day Punchinello meets Lucia who has neither stars nor dots. Punchinello asks why and she tells him to see the maker and find out.

This story touched me because on Wednesday night I spent an evening with people who according to Lucado’s story, would be covered in dots. It made me understand better why Punchinello felt more comfortable to be with people like himself than to be around the people who had assigned him his dots. I also thought about how hard it would be when you are so covered in dots to even be able to see a maker.

If you were a Wemmick, would you be covered with stars, dots, both, or completely starless and dotless?

God of Wonders

Caitlin is studying Apologetics. Today we began a chapter which discussed the Teleological Argument. In trying to prove that nature does exhibit design, some facts were brought out about the Universe that made me marvel and want to fall on my face.

The Universe (and this does not even include its outer limits which have not been measured yet) is estimated to be 20 billion light-years in diameter ( a light year is the distance light travels in one year, moving at a speed of more than 186,000 miles per second; a light year is approx. 5,880,000,000,000 miles). There are a billion galaxies in the Universe. We live in the Milky Way galaxy as you already know. If you got in a space ship and could travel to the end of our galaxy, it would take you 100,000 years traveling at the speed of light.
As Bronwyn always says, and I believe the Holy Spirit has revealed it to her, "Mom....God is really really big."

Now, in my heart, I know it is not arguments, factual and rational as they might be, but the Holy Spirit that convinces of a Creator and need of a Savior. One does not need to know these scientific data to repent and follow Him. But, there is something about the witness of his Creation which, as in Ps 29:11, causes all in his temple ( especially this miserable sinner) to cry, "Glory." I often think, though it may be heresy, that Creation should have been canonized in one of those councils of the early church. Even Paul said there was no excuse for unbelief in lieu of Creation's testimony.

The vastness of this material Universe boggles my mind and is beyond my comprehension. I can't look at a spider in its web and not be forced to behold the wildness of God. The most advanced aircraft man can make is put to shame by the beauty and ingenuity of the humble doves that visit my backyard. Yet, he is mindful and tender toward it all! Therefore, what shall I say then of the MIND that created it all; the Mind who chose to pitch a tent among the ones He irrationally loves. What can a creature made from dirt say to the very One who thought of a light year or galaxy...... Have mercy on me.....Hold on to me.

This chorus kept running through my mind as Caitlin and I discussed the immensity of the Universe.

God of wonders beyond our galaxy, you are Holy, Holy

The Universe declares your majesty, you are Holy, Holy.

Oh God of wonders have mercy on us......don't forget us, keep holding on to us.....You are Holy.

Pelican Facts

This afternoon, our science study was about winter birds. Bronwyn liked the topic so much she asked if we could learn more about birds. I happened to have some lovely large picture cards of birds from the United States and we looked at them enjoying all their different attributes. I left her at the table to browse them on her own. As I surfed the internet, I could hear her reading facts about the various species in the background. With one ear on her and one eye on the headlines, I heard, " The brown pelican is the state bird of Louisiana.......strong swimmer......and expert diver.....can plunge from a height of......eats fish.......ha-bi-tat........ " After what seemed a long pause, Bronwyn, irritated with the incompleteness of the facts, added, " Hey, pelicans also help deliver babies too!"

If It's not Santa, It's Peter Pan

Bronwyn has been reading a chapter from an abridged version of Peter Pan to me every night before bedtime. She has watched every movie about Peter and wanted to read the adventures. The other night she asked me if we could leave the window open for him before we went to sleep.


.........I said okay but only after she has fallen asleep.

Mid-life and Santa Suits

I have been made aware of advertisements at the top of my blog. I just clicked on it and presently it advertises, "Mid-life assitance" and "Santa Suits". Well, I must say, these titles do describe a bit of life I'm presently experiencing.

This morning I went to the gym and did my weight class (the one that keeps my hormones and mid-section in line), had an in-depth conversation with a friend after class, got home and Bronwyn informed me that my shirt was inside out. In my twenties or thirties I would have cared about my shirt, now I just think," Hey, at least I got out of bed today." That's the mid-life assistance part. The Santa suit part, though funny, makes me a little sad. I found some of Bronwyn's old letters to Santa last night with little pictures she had drawn for him---so sweet and precious.

On a happy note, Caitlin and I were invited to a tea party in Bronwyn's room today. We both received written invitations and directions. She had a baby shower for her stuffed animal dog who was about to deliver her puppies at any minute. We had some pretend conversation. I asked Bronwyn if she had a job and she said that she worked at Starbucks with her friends, Serenity and Emma and they also shared an apartment. Serenity and Emma couldn't get off work today to come to the shower. I asked Caitlin if she was married. She became very shy and Bronwyn, always the good hostess, blurted out, "Yea, she's married to the the guy whose name is written on the bottom of her foot with the henna Jessie gave her........Orlando Bloom." The party went a bit down hill after that....but the dog had her puppies and it got a little better.

Now it is time to take my mid-life nap.

A Day


9-2:30 The girls wake up, have some morning time and begin their lessons. Bronwyn has a final spelling test which she aces (as usual). She then reads about ostriches, beavers, squirrels, and the platypus. She is fascinated by the pictures and because it lays eggs, is not sure why a platypus is a mammal. “It provides milk for its young,” I say, and show her a picture of two red furless platy babies suckling as they are suspended from their mother’s nipple. Bronwyn lets out a big,” EWWWWW,” and I ask,” What’s the problem with that?” Caitlin giggles in the corner as she writes her history paper on the ancient Hebrews. Gregg is painting some closet doors and will go out to do some yard work soon. Bronwyn completes a narration and illustration on her reading and moves on to history and geography. She is ecstatic to learn that during the New Kingdom of Egyptian history the first female Pharaoh, Hatshepsut, took the throne. But she is a little less enamored that Hatshepsut had to don male clothing and a beard to do it. Caitlin voices her anger about the hoops an ancient female Pharaoh went through just to sit on a throne, but I tell her to get back to her biography on Einstein and then write a summary of the chapter naming three things she found interesting or important. I edit Caitlin’s papers and help Bronwyn finish her narration on History. School ends and I consume a lot of soy cheese and rice crackers. I would rather down a loaf of bread.

2:30-3:00 Caitlin hangs with Daddy outside and Bronwyn plays Happy Birthday on the piano. She decides that she is going to pretend she is playing at some bar and asks, “Does anyone out there have a Birthday today?” She makes me yell pretend names and she sings Happy Birthday to every person in the room! I feel like I am losing touch with reality after the 5th person gets sung to.

3:00-4:00 I cut up some cantaloupe and share. I go to the bathroom and wonder if I should change out of my pajamas. I also wonder why my eyebrows are lighter than my hair. Then I wonder if I should get a thyroid test because I am so tired all the time. Then I think,” No, you just have some incurable form of cancer.” Caitlin comes in and asks if she can call Jessie. Bronwyn bursts in, grabs me around the waist and begs, “Play with me.” I protest a little but tell her to go set up her room. “We will play Veterinarian office,” she decides. I tell Caitlin to go in her room to practice violin before she goes to Jessie’s equestrian event tonight. While Bronwyn sets up her room, I talk to Gregg outside laying bricks. We talk about whether we should stay in Vegas or try something new. We hear Heart and Soul and Happy Birthday on the piano. “I am ready,” Bronwyn yells. Caitlin begins scales on her violin.
As Bach’s Double Concerto comes through the bedroom wall, Bronwyn and I transition into our play roles. We play only three things when I am invited into her room: babies, store or veterinarian office. Her play name is always Libby. I on the other hand, have to be different characters that come into her office or store to keep the thing going. Vet's office is played with old medical instruments from my short lived nursing career, a red toy cash register, monopoly money, an old credit card, information forms found in Daddy’s garbage can and every stuffed animal that would possibly come into a vet's office. I come in as my first character, Jane Umbridge. My cat was in for surgery. She has me fill out some forms and pay. ”Are you the Doctor or the office assistant?” I ask. “I’m both,” she says. Her morning robe is her doctor’s coat, hadn’t I noticed??? We go through several other customer scenes and I ask if I can make a cup of peppermint tea. She acquiesces to my request. I return and sit on the bed with my tea ready for the next scene. Bronwyn decides to break character,” Mmmmmm that smells good,” and she pulls my cup to her lips. We continue on with the next poor animal victim, a homeless abandoned puppy with a bruised arm, but Bronwyn keeps breaking character taking sips of tea. Suddenly she says, “I feel like an ice cream bar.” We decide an ice cream break is o.k. at a Vet's office. She eats messily and we return to our play but she now has a thick chocolate outline left on her lips which I decide will give her character some vulnerability. As we discuss a Golden Retriever's heart problems, I hear that Caitlin has abandoned Bach for a little aside to the theme from the Lord of the Rings. I break character, “CAILTIN!” She responds to my prompt with a violin giggle and returns to the Bach double. Back at the vet's office, Vet Libby informs me that my dog needs surgery STAT!!! About one minute later, she reappears with the dog and says,” That’ll be three dollars please.” As I pull the money from my purse, she notices a little chocolate on her hand and excuses herself to wash the blood from surgery off her hand. She returns, and while she is giving me some discharge instructions, I drift a little out of character and listen to Caitlin’s playing and then I wonder if I should have liposuction on my outer thighs or on the skin that hangs over my bra around my arm pits. I am brought back by Dr. Libby saying, "Excuse me, m’am, but I have other customers waiting behind you." as she grabs my cup for another sip. I quickly return to my role and tell her I am paying by debit card and ask when my follow up appointment is. Dr. Libby says Wednesday and then says, “Mom can we stop now?” Caitlin is finished practicing and cleans her room.


430-530: It’s time to get Caitlin ready for the horse event and I make her some brown rice. Bronwyn joins her for a bowl and requests peppermint tea. Caitlin is emotional today and needs lots of hugs. She eats quietly, but Bronwyn has gotten up three or four times to show me her ballet moves and pictures of King Tut and has changed into a new outfit. Gregg returns from brick laying to take Caitlin to the Carder’s. While they are gone, I try to get Bronwyn to lie in bed while I listen to a book on tape and eat some rice but she wants to talk about why Daddy loves working out in the yard so much. I tell her people who sit in front of computers a lot like to know that there are real things to touch, see and smell. Secretly, I think Daddy just likes digging in the earth and would prefer to be a landscaper.

5:46 Gregg tells Bronwyn it is time for a swim. She changes from the leotard to bathing suit and as I type this, I hear them laughing and screaming. I will attempt to go back to my book on tape and see how long it lasts.


8:OO Gregg is cooking some dinner, Bronwyn is reading from her history book about the Hebrews and comes across the story of Moses and out of the blue says,” Daddy, did mommy tell you that Amy’s stripper name is Moses Bush?” I think the day is over now.