Unfortunately (that's not an appropriate phrase because this has nothing to do with fortune and all to do with laziness, but i digress) i have not written this post yet. Which is also not an appropriate phrase as by the time anyone is reading it that statement will be false. So if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it does it make a sound? Or if a blogger makes a statement, which is invalidated once it is read does the time-line apply to the blogger or the reader? Perhaps we should just pretend this entire first paragraph never happened.
The point is that some of my ardor over this subject has waned, from the time that i originally plotted this entry. So perhaps as you read it, you could supply a touch of fervor from your end?
(That might be the most ludicrous introduction to a serious post i've ever written by the way.)
Last Saturday i attended a wedding. The ceremony in and of itself was quite nice overall. The bride and groom were delightfully (slightly nauseatingly) in love (there were frequent mini make-out sessions during the reception). i had a date to the reception (two actually) in the form of a marvelously down to earth girlfriend and her adorable four year old son (age is estimated cuteness is not). We sat with another high school friend and her husband and son during the reception. There was dancing and food, and i realized that either i am older than i once was or the macarena has lengthened through the years (i blame the high heeled boots).
There were no stressing calls from home. It was a bit of a struggle not to obsessively check on things, but i managed to let go and let God for most of the night and things were fine. (Control freak who has trouble believing that the world is okay if i leave for an evening, me? Never..... okay, yeah that's totally me. Sorry God. Thanks for forgiving me.)
The high school girlfriend told me i looked nice, and i believe her.
Overall it was a very good evening, with only a few things marring it (one of which is the theme of this post).
The first was the fact that a few of my dresses were suddenly too fitting on me (sigh must start exercising) so i played the part of Tasmanian woman donning and doffing clothing frantically in the few minutes before (and a few minutes after) my dates arrived.
Another was the fact that they took communion at the wedding.
Now it's confession time- during the ceremony i was being pretty heavily convicted.
See, i had spent some time prior to the event kind of judging the bride and groom. It was a hasty seeming wedding; they'd only known each other since the spring. The bride was divorced and had told me at one point in the past that she didn't believe that divorced people should remarry. To be honest i hadn't met the groom and didn't know the proposal story, and i resented the fact that my numerous phone calls to talk to her and find out what was going on between the Facebook engagement announcement and the actual wedding had been for the most part neither answered nor returned.
So during the ceremony, i looked at this couple getting married, and felt horribly guilty because i, as her friend and attendant at her ceremony, had been judging them. i sat in my pew seat and prayed in apology.
Suddenly, they announced that they would be taking communion and that they wanted all of us to as well. The pastor announced that in the Methodist church anyone who knew Jesus could take communion.
Now yes, i also believe that if you know Jesus you can take communion. Also, i get the symbolism of the ceremony and have seen it done beautifully in at least one prior wedding.
There was a difference this time however. This time, i was one of the people sitting in the pew panicking because i wasn't comfortable doing it but felt like there was no choice. This got me thinking about how many other people there likely were in that church feeling the same way.
i didn't want to take it for a few reasons. For one, i've heard pastors repeatedly charge us not to take communion unworthily. There's a Bible passage about not making an offering without first making things right with your brother. There i was sitting in the pew feeling i had wronged two good friends of mine, and now they were asking me to take communion with them. Secondly, there was another reason i did not feel right taking it (which i won't get into here). Regardless, i sat there squirming.
My date whispered next to me, asking if i was going up. i responded that i didn't think we had a choice. She also appeared reticent. Later she told me that she was Catholic, and had not gone to confession.
We were only two people there, and i am certain we were not alone. In the end, this certainty was proved when the girl next to my friend told us she was not going up and we could go around her. That gave us the courage to stay put as well. We became the awkward half a pew who didn't go forward, as opposed to the one person- and there was strength and solidarity in the group rebellion.
After this experience i really thought about the subject. Had the pastor made the caveat aloud, stating that if you were not comfortable you could remain in the pew, perhaps the pressure would have been alleviated. Should i ever get married however, it is my firm belief that i will opt not to observe the ritual at all.
What is beautiful and meaningful for the bride and groom has the potential to be humiliating and uncomfortable for the observers. To admit in such a situation that you do not want to go up is to insinuate that you don't know God, or to make yourself stand out. Now i know that isn't the intent, but having been the one uncomfortable i realized that this could be the reality. Peer pressure may drive them to violate their consciences.
Neither should those who aren't Christians be partaking in this Christian ritual. It has the potential to offend the beliefs of those who feel it should be offered only to a select group, from both sides.
Those are my thoughts- perhaps scattered as they may be. What do you think- am i over-thinking things.
Please no one be offended by these ruminations. It's just my musings.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
on the secret to beauty
i was driving to work last night, and this song came on. It wasn't the first time I've heard the song, nor was it the first time it's touched me. Nevertheless, last night it struck me in a particular way, and i found myself driving down the road, music turned up, tapping the steering wheel.
How do we define beauty?
I don't always feel beautiful physically- especially when, as has been the case lately, I encounter myself in the mirror at work slightly sick, looking tired, and with the visible proof of the weight I have gained. (Which in my mind is evident proof of how out of shape I have become, compared to the devoted runner I once was.)
(By the way- does anyone else harbor the conspiracy theory that the makers of ladies' room mirrors are financially connected to the cosmetics industry?)
Nor do I always feel inwardly beautiful. There are times when my failures dog my conscience, when I realize how dirty my house is or how much more productive I could be, how unloving I was at work, or how poorly that day I reflected Christ.
That however, is the beauty of this song about beauty. It reminds us that beauty isn't made of how we look, or how we measure up to our standards. Beauty is made of God's creation and work in us. As I told my sister earlier this week, God is perfect and does not make worthless people.
He makes beautiful things out of us.
Tomorrow should I encounter myself in the ladies room mirror, probably still a bit sick and with hair hastily thrown in a ponytail, glasses slightly askance and held together with melted plastic and metal, feeling slightly guilty due to my lack of productivity, or frustration with a coworker, or tendency to gossip, I hope I remember this.
I hope I allow Him, too, to make me the beautiful thing He has planned, to be a willing creation.
How do we define beauty?
I don't always feel beautiful physically- especially when, as has been the case lately, I encounter myself in the mirror at work slightly sick, looking tired, and with the visible proof of the weight I have gained. (Which in my mind is evident proof of how out of shape I have become, compared to the devoted runner I once was.)
(By the way- does anyone else harbor the conspiracy theory that the makers of ladies' room mirrors are financially connected to the cosmetics industry?)
Nor do I always feel inwardly beautiful. There are times when my failures dog my conscience, when I realize how dirty my house is or how much more productive I could be, how unloving I was at work, or how poorly that day I reflected Christ.
That however, is the beauty of this song about beauty. It reminds us that beauty isn't made of how we look, or how we measure up to our standards. Beauty is made of God's creation and work in us. As I told my sister earlier this week, God is perfect and does not make worthless people.
He makes beautiful things out of us.
Tomorrow should I encounter myself in the ladies room mirror, probably still a bit sick and with hair hastily thrown in a ponytail, glasses slightly askance and held together with melted plastic and metal, feeling slightly guilty due to my lack of productivity, or frustration with a coworker, or tendency to gossip, I hope I remember this.
I hope I allow Him, too, to make me the beautiful thing He has planned, to be a willing creation.
Friday, February 3, 2012
God's grace in the miniscule domestic sphere
Did you ever find yourself sitting on the edge of the bathtub, clutching a plunger and nearly crying at the wonder of the gurgle of water through pipes and the sight of its imminent departure from your field of vision? i have. Tonight in fact that was me, hair stretching the confines of the pony tail, sleeves pushed up, joy so full in my heart i wanted to either laugh or cry. That crazy woman there- yeah that's totally me. Here's why.
To get my joy you'd have to understand my house. It's..... well if i was buying it i would term it a "fixer upper". Since i own it i'm not sure what to call it. There's wallpaper and paint drooping and sagging in various spots, the electric doesn't work in large chunks of the place, there's a hole between the kitchen and upstairs bathroom, and the pipes are a plumber's nightmare. i know this because we've had them fixed- repeatedly. The hole by the way is for ease of access to the pipes between the two floors. It hasn't been worth replacing that section of kitchen ceiling actually, because of how often that section of pipes broke. Like recently, when i accidentally dislodged the piece of tin can patching a hole in the shower drainage pipe causing what proved to be months of leak issues. A friend recently (praise God!!)) came and fixed this spot for us, and dared to say that we are probably finally done with that section of pipe. Honestly, i'm not sure there is much there which hasn't been fixed or patched now, and the friend thinks what is there and original appears to be pretty solid. So we had a non-dripping pipe, which was bliss in and of itself. Except- we still had a non-draining tub. This is why i was attempting to snake the pipe in the first place, the action which caused the leak.
Now i'm grateful we have hot water and a shower at all, or even water at all. However, my first world mind would like to argue that until you've had to bucket out the water after each shower, you don't realize how annoying this requirement can be. The water, until emptied, sits in the shower, spawning mold growth, and smelling. Bucketing it into the toilet can make you slightly sore. This has recently been made even worse by the fact that my brother has come down with a serious leg infection (perhaps more on that later). This means that i got to bucket out after everyone's showers, as it seemed cruel to ask him to stand on his leg long enough to do it himself. (i also wouldn't make mom do hers of course). Anyway, you get the picture.
So tonight, with a headache, i go upstairs to empty the tub from the shower i took this morning. Prior to doing so, i decide to try again to plunge it. This is something i have tried repeatedly through the months, and previous stoppages. We've also tried chemicals (not in a while, as i hate them), vinegar and baking soda treatments, snaking (difficult with our pipes), and a kitchen sink. (Okay, we haven't tried the kitchen sink, but i did stand atop it to try to snake through the cut pipe prior to the friend reconnecting it.)
So i'm sitting there, plunging, and feeling sorry for myself, wallowing in my singleness and how it would be nice to have a man at times like this. Not that my brother isn't a man, but it's different anyway and he has that leg infection. A man, i thought wistfully, who would fix things like this, and take care of me, and let me curl up and relax when i had a headache and was down on a Friday night. Wistful thinking perhaps, but there i was.
At one point, i prayed. i asked God to please fix the pipe, thinking that i could give Him the glory if He did. i'm not sure if i had actually prayed about it before. i remember thinking that i ought to have tried sooner even tonight.
A few seconds or minutes, really shortly thereafter, i heard a noise. Water was running. i yelled to bubs to check the kitchen, fearing it was only another leak, but he confirmed that it was not so. At that point my ears tuned to the gurgle, and my eyes affixed to the water levels. Sure enough the water was decreasing, and continued to do so until it was all gone. i sat there almost crying, almost laughing at the sight.
See, the thing you have to understand about this- about why it was such a big deal for me, is that it was a mini-miracle. This clog had been so stubborn. i did nothing tonight that i haven't tried before. There is no reason why tonight this should have worked.
Except for God.
And that's the most important part. He cares enough to create a miracle for me. He cares enough to care that my pipes are drained, and i'm feeling low. He cares enough to show me that i don't need a man, i only need Him. He cares enough to answer my prayer, even though i am only one small girl in one small house in a small town in a small life in america. He cares. He doesn't have to. Praise You God that You do!! Praise You that You love us even though we're nothing!!
Thanks again God!! This is balm to my soul.
Amen.
To get my joy you'd have to understand my house. It's..... well if i was buying it i would term it a "fixer upper". Since i own it i'm not sure what to call it. There's wallpaper and paint drooping and sagging in various spots, the electric doesn't work in large chunks of the place, there's a hole between the kitchen and upstairs bathroom, and the pipes are a plumber's nightmare. i know this because we've had them fixed- repeatedly. The hole by the way is for ease of access to the pipes between the two floors. It hasn't been worth replacing that section of kitchen ceiling actually, because of how often that section of pipes broke. Like recently, when i accidentally dislodged the piece of tin can patching a hole in the shower drainage pipe causing what proved to be months of leak issues. A friend recently (praise God!!)) came and fixed this spot for us, and dared to say that we are probably finally done with that section of pipe. Honestly, i'm not sure there is much there which hasn't been fixed or patched now, and the friend thinks what is there and original appears to be pretty solid. So we had a non-dripping pipe, which was bliss in and of itself. Except- we still had a non-draining tub. This is why i was attempting to snake the pipe in the first place, the action which caused the leak.
Now i'm grateful we have hot water and a shower at all, or even water at all. However, my first world mind would like to argue that until you've had to bucket out the water after each shower, you don't realize how annoying this requirement can be. The water, until emptied, sits in the shower, spawning mold growth, and smelling. Bucketing it into the toilet can make you slightly sore. This has recently been made even worse by the fact that my brother has come down with a serious leg infection (perhaps more on that later). This means that i got to bucket out after everyone's showers, as it seemed cruel to ask him to stand on his leg long enough to do it himself. (i also wouldn't make mom do hers of course). Anyway, you get the picture.
So tonight, with a headache, i go upstairs to empty the tub from the shower i took this morning. Prior to doing so, i decide to try again to plunge it. This is something i have tried repeatedly through the months, and previous stoppages. We've also tried chemicals (not in a while, as i hate them), vinegar and baking soda treatments, snaking (difficult with our pipes), and a kitchen sink. (Okay, we haven't tried the kitchen sink, but i did stand atop it to try to snake through the cut pipe prior to the friend reconnecting it.)
So i'm sitting there, plunging, and feeling sorry for myself, wallowing in my singleness and how it would be nice to have a man at times like this. Not that my brother isn't a man, but it's different anyway and he has that leg infection. A man, i thought wistfully, who would fix things like this, and take care of me, and let me curl up and relax when i had a headache and was down on a Friday night. Wistful thinking perhaps, but there i was.
At one point, i prayed. i asked God to please fix the pipe, thinking that i could give Him the glory if He did. i'm not sure if i had actually prayed about it before. i remember thinking that i ought to have tried sooner even tonight.
A few seconds or minutes, really shortly thereafter, i heard a noise. Water was running. i yelled to bubs to check the kitchen, fearing it was only another leak, but he confirmed that it was not so. At that point my ears tuned to the gurgle, and my eyes affixed to the water levels. Sure enough the water was decreasing, and continued to do so until it was all gone. i sat there almost crying, almost laughing at the sight.
See, the thing you have to understand about this- about why it was such a big deal for me, is that it was a mini-miracle. This clog had been so stubborn. i did nothing tonight that i haven't tried before. There is no reason why tonight this should have worked.
Except for God.
And that's the most important part. He cares enough to create a miracle for me. He cares enough to care that my pipes are drained, and i'm feeling low. He cares enough to show me that i don't need a man, i only need Him. He cares enough to answer my prayer, even though i am only one small girl in one small house in a small town in a small life in america. He cares. He doesn't have to. Praise You God that You do!! Praise You that You love us even though we're nothing!!
Thanks again God!! This is balm to my soul.
Amen.
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