It is 2:00 in the afternoon. Quincy is at school, Adelaide is taking a nap, and Cameron - the 5 year old who usually spends Mondays with us - is home with his mom today. I've got a nice big cup of hot chocolate and it is snowing outside my window. (I live in the "no stick" zone below 500 ft, but it's still fun to watch.) This morning I finished copying most of my favorite Christmas tunes onto my new and improved holiday itunes playlist. Yes, I'm still a sucker for Christmas music, and though there are still some gaps in my collection, I currently have 119 songs and 6.4 hours. That should do for awhile.
Here's to a cozy afternoon.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
Monday, November 13, 2006
I have no title for this, but it ain't pretty
Oh Ted, Ted, Ted, Ted, Ted. Look what you have done to me. I know that really all the opinions have been voiced, and honestly I have nothing to add to the conversation. This is really about me.
When my husband first read the news story to me, I will openly admit that my reaction was one of disappointment, frustration, annoyance, very little hope that any of it would prove to be false, and zero compassion. I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh. (Or maybe more of a groan.) This stuff makes me crazy, partly because anymore it comes as absolutely no surprise. I listened as the discussion unfolded on one of my yahoo groups about the political motivation of the accuser and how it was just a ridiculous attack. And then I watched the tone change - not in a bad way, just less "it can't be true" to more "we all sin" - as the truth trickled out. I truly admire all of the folks out there who immediately took the high road and pointed out that we are all indeed sinners. Yes, it's true that there but for God's grace, go I. I am also impressed by the grace and wisdom by which his church has handled the situation.
But here is what pisses me off. The only reason this even came out was because he basically got caught, and then it all played out like a political scandal. It was spun like anything else straight out of the beltway. Step one: deny, deny, deny. (I did not have sexual relations with that woman.) Step two: admit a little, just enough that people will accept, maybe be a little understanding, but not turn on you. (Yeah, I tried it, but I didn't inhale) You see where I'm going with this. A little bit at a time, until we reach full disclosure. Maybe. We never really know, do we? And ya know what, I really don't even care about the alleged homosexual relationship or the drugs. I can get past that pretty easily. What I am having a hard time getting past is the postions of power in which these men find themselves be it by their own doing or that of their "followers" that seems to make it even more difficult to have human failings. (And don't kid yourself by saying that we're all just following Jesus. Many of us have been known to follow a man. I know I have.) I'm also left wondering how this was even kept a secret for so long. Was there really no one close enough to realize that something was amiss? Was there absolutely no one that he felt safe enough to confide in or confess to? How have we as a church come to this? What I'm wondering is this. All of these sins that we all know we have, that are no worse than that of Ted Haggard, nor are they any more hidden from God -- are they still hidden from everyone around us? Even those who love us most? I suspect that as Mr. Haggard struggled with these things, he was repenting and praying and seeking "deliverance" along the way. I'm doubtful that he was basking in it, but that he was likely trying to get a handle on it with God's help. Meanwhile, there was probably help to be had and things might not have gotten so ugly had he felt there was a safe place to confess.
Confession. That is a tough one. That is probably one of the biggest obstacles to me being chrismated into the Orthodox Church. It is not optional there. I'm not sure how it plays out during the rest of the year, but come Pascha (Easter), if you have not been to see the priest for confession, you do not partake in communion. In her book Mudhouse Sabbath, Lauren Winner does a whole chapter on confession and how she began the practice. I remember reading it and thinking "there is no freaking way I could ever do that". I can confess and ask forgiveness when I have wronged my husband. Apologize and take responsibility when I've wounded a friend. But to share with anyone my deep dark ugly secret stuff? That is something else entirely. Especially when it is a sin against God alone. Why burden anyone else with that? And who knows when it might come back to bite you on the butt. It's probably best to just handle it on your own.
So maybe this is where Ted teaches me a lesson. Maybe this is where I can find some common ground and maybe even a little compassion. I have plenty of my own little secrets and isn't that, along with my judgement every bit as repulsive as anything he's ever done? I have always been 'the good one' so any shortcoming at all is utter failure in my eyes. The dark part inside of me that sizes up everyone I meet before letting them show me who they really are. That sees all of their flaws and none of my own. And that's just one of my more regular sins. There are plenty more that probably don't need to be on a blog. But I'm really starting to believe that they do belong out in the open somewhere, as terrifying as that is to me. How can we ever be the whole and unified body of Christ as long as we hold onto our secret sins?
"I believe, O Lord, and I confess that you are truly the Christ, the Son of the living God, who did come into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the greatest. . . . "
"Forgive me of my sins, brothers and sisters."
"May God forgive us all."
When my husband first read the news story to me, I will openly admit that my reaction was one of disappointment, frustration, annoyance, very little hope that any of it would prove to be false, and zero compassion. I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh. (Or maybe more of a groan.) This stuff makes me crazy, partly because anymore it comes as absolutely no surprise. I listened as the discussion unfolded on one of my yahoo groups about the political motivation of the accuser and how it was just a ridiculous attack. And then I watched the tone change - not in a bad way, just less "it can't be true" to more "we all sin" - as the truth trickled out. I truly admire all of the folks out there who immediately took the high road and pointed out that we are all indeed sinners. Yes, it's true that there but for God's grace, go I. I am also impressed by the grace and wisdom by which his church has handled the situation.
But here is what pisses me off. The only reason this even came out was because he basically got caught, and then it all played out like a political scandal. It was spun like anything else straight out of the beltway. Step one: deny, deny, deny. (I did not have sexual relations with that woman.) Step two: admit a little, just enough that people will accept, maybe be a little understanding, but not turn on you. (Yeah, I tried it, but I didn't inhale) You see where I'm going with this. A little bit at a time, until we reach full disclosure. Maybe. We never really know, do we? And ya know what, I really don't even care about the alleged homosexual relationship or the drugs. I can get past that pretty easily. What I am having a hard time getting past is the postions of power in which these men find themselves be it by their own doing or that of their "followers" that seems to make it even more difficult to have human failings. (And don't kid yourself by saying that we're all just following Jesus. Many of us have been known to follow a man. I know I have.) I'm also left wondering how this was even kept a secret for so long. Was there really no one close enough to realize that something was amiss? Was there absolutely no one that he felt safe enough to confide in or confess to? How have we as a church come to this? What I'm wondering is this. All of these sins that we all know we have, that are no worse than that of Ted Haggard, nor are they any more hidden from God -- are they still hidden from everyone around us? Even those who love us most? I suspect that as Mr. Haggard struggled with these things, he was repenting and praying and seeking "deliverance" along the way. I'm doubtful that he was basking in it, but that he was likely trying to get a handle on it with God's help. Meanwhile, there was probably help to be had and things might not have gotten so ugly had he felt there was a safe place to confess.
Confession. That is a tough one. That is probably one of the biggest obstacles to me being chrismated into the Orthodox Church. It is not optional there. I'm not sure how it plays out during the rest of the year, but come Pascha (Easter), if you have not been to see the priest for confession, you do not partake in communion. In her book Mudhouse Sabbath, Lauren Winner does a whole chapter on confession and how she began the practice. I remember reading it and thinking "there is no freaking way I could ever do that". I can confess and ask forgiveness when I have wronged my husband. Apologize and take responsibility when I've wounded a friend. But to share with anyone my deep dark ugly secret stuff? That is something else entirely. Especially when it is a sin against God alone. Why burden anyone else with that? And who knows when it might come back to bite you on the butt. It's probably best to just handle it on your own.
So maybe this is where Ted teaches me a lesson. Maybe this is where I can find some common ground and maybe even a little compassion. I have plenty of my own little secrets and isn't that, along with my judgement every bit as repulsive as anything he's ever done? I have always been 'the good one' so any shortcoming at all is utter failure in my eyes. The dark part inside of me that sizes up everyone I meet before letting them show me who they really are. That sees all of their flaws and none of my own. And that's just one of my more regular sins. There are plenty more that probably don't need to be on a blog. But I'm really starting to believe that they do belong out in the open somewhere, as terrifying as that is to me. How can we ever be the whole and unified body of Christ as long as we hold onto our secret sins?
"I believe, O Lord, and I confess that you are truly the Christ, the Son of the living God, who did come into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the greatest. . . . "
"Forgive me of my sins, brothers and sisters."
"May God forgive us all."
What goes around . . .
When I was a little girl, one of my favorite things in the whole wide world was when I would fall asleep while watching TV and my dad would have to put me to bed. I can remember being carried through the house when everything was silent, and him checking all the lights and locks to make sure his family was safe. Funny thing is that I don't really recall actually being put in bed as much as I remember being held in his arms. I loved this feeling to the point that I would either try to intentionally stay up past my bedtime or, more often, I would fake being asleep. At the time, I don't think I could explain why I liked this so much, but as an adult, I now recognize that amazing sense of security and safety of being held in my father's arms.
Fast forward 30 some-odd years. I now have a daughter who will be chatting away, fidgeting with a toy, or just squirming around under her blanket when we let her stay up to watch a movie or TV show with us. But when it is actually time for bed, all of a sudden her eyes are closed and she is perfectly still. . . . save the semi grin on her lips. As you go to pick her up, she actually helps you and puts her arms around your neck all by herself. She's a pretty bad faker, but the effort is just adorable. She's not to particular about whether it is Mom or Dad who carries her to her room, but I have to say that knowing what I know now, I really love it when it's Dad.
I'm sure there are some lovely devotional thoughts I could pull from this, but really I just wanted to draw the picture of something that seems to be inside us all.
Fast forward 30 some-odd years. I now have a daughter who will be chatting away, fidgeting with a toy, or just squirming around under her blanket when we let her stay up to watch a movie or TV show with us. But when it is actually time for bed, all of a sudden her eyes are closed and she is perfectly still. . . . save the semi grin on her lips. As you go to pick her up, she actually helps you and puts her arms around your neck all by herself. She's a pretty bad faker, but the effort is just adorable. She's not to particular about whether it is Mom or Dad who carries her to her room, but I have to say that knowing what I know now, I really love it when it's Dad.
I'm sure there are some lovely devotional thoughts I could pull from this, but really I just wanted to draw the picture of something that seems to be inside us all.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Aaahhhh, winter in Oregon
9:00 this morning. This is across the street from our building and then looking around the corner down the street.
3:45 this afternoon. Fog has lifted, but not much else has changed. This is what many days will look like over the next few months. It takes a bit of adjustment, but overall I really like it. Especially since very soon (hopefully) the rain down here will mean snow on the mountain. Snow park days can not be too far off.
3:45 this afternoon. Fog has lifted, but not much else has changed. This is what many days will look like over the next few months. It takes a bit of adjustment, but overall I really like it. Especially since very soon (hopefully) the rain down here will mean snow on the mountain. Snow park days can not be too far off.
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