Effortless Effervescence

Pssssst! There’s more Quick Takes over at Conversion Diary. Check ‘em out!

Take 1: Greetings from sunny lovely Virginia Beach, VA! Perhaps you heard about the Nor’easter that slammed the mid-Atlantic coast last week? Well, it was everything the weather channel says it was and more - high winds, tons of rain, and a general pain in the butt for people who want to, say, leave their houses to go to work or buy groceries. I ended up taking the day off on Thursday and getting a ton of chores done around the house, which felt heavenly, but I was twitching with cabin fever by the end of the day. And I didn’t realize until I woke up on Sunday and was stunned to see a big, brightly shining orb in the sky that we hadn’t had any real sunlight for four days. Now that’s depressing. Mental note: never move to Alaska.

The storm managed to provide some entertaining moments, like when our neighbors’ trampoline ended up in our tree, but it wasn’t without casualties: my brother flooded his car on Saturday, totalling it, which really bummed him out. Now, that car, a Saturn Ion, belonged to my older sister for ten years and my older brother for two or three before it finally ended up in my younger brother’s clutches. It had 260,000 miles on it, so it’s not a big loss. Still, it was sad to see such a faithful friend go to that great junkyard in the sky. *hums TAPS*

Take 2: So according to Sarah Palin’s recently released memoir, Going Rogue: An American Life, all those rumors about tension within the McCain/Palin campaign (which, IIRC, Palin herself denied at the time) were true after all. After reading that, I think I finally understood one of the reasons that I was so adverse to the idea of voting for McCain. I had other reasons of which I was wholly certain, but I also felt a latent uneasiness about McCain and Palin and couldn’t quite figure out what was causing it. Now I realize that the rumors of discontent coupled with the insistence that, “No, we’re one big, happy family!” that came from campaign officials, PLUS McCain and Palin’s forced smiles and overly affectionate banter reminded me very much of my time in the cult.

When I was working at Christ Church, nearly everyone who brushed shoulders with my pastor and his minions (which included me and all my friends) noticed that there was something Not Quite Right in the way that he treated us, in the way that we catered to his every whim, in the way that we insisted, “We’re one big, happy family!” Our forced smiles and overly affectionate banter didn’t hide the fact that there was something Not Quite Right (actually, make that something Gravely Wrong) and I remember getting the same feeling from McCain and Palin. Any time something reminds me of those cult dynamics, I take that as an indication that I should run in the opposite direction.

Now, that is not to say that Obama and Biden are BFFs or that they were so much more genuine and honest and real than their rivals were. I’m not even getting close to alleging that one candidate was perfect and the other was the antichrist (but there’s lots of other blogs out there that DO if that sort of cow patty floats your boat). All I’m saying is that something inside me didn’t like the Republican ticket last year because they gave me the willies. And now I know why.

(Book cover image released by HarperCollins to the Associated Press)

Take 3: Do you guys realize that Christmas is just weeks away? I realized it yesterday, and I had a small panic attack. I love the holidays, but I feel wholly unprepared for them this year. I have to figure out what we’re giving folks - I have some ideas, but not a lot - and then, oh yeah, I have to buy or make the things we’re giving folks, and that requires spare change and time, both of which are in short supply right now. I always tell myself that it’s okay to not spend a lot of money, that it’s the thought that counts, and I shouldn’t let my holiday gift-giving choices be dictated by guilt - but still, I have a hard time doing that!

I will say that I’m VERY proud of myself for deciding to scale my Christmas card list waaaaaaaaaay back; last year I sent over 100 cards, and now that stamps are what, 44 cents apiece, that means I’d spend $44.00 on just MAILING the cards, not to mention the cost of the cards themselves! It occurred to me that spending that much money to send cards to loads of people I don’t know that well OR know very well but talk to every single day makes no sense. I’ll send cards to family members and old friends that I don’t talk to often but with whom I want to keep in touch, and call it a day. GO ME.

Take 4: Another source of holiday stress is that I tend to agonize over what to buy for my stepson. For instance, do kids still like The Berenstain Bears? Now that CJ is in kindergarten, I feel it’s my duty to line his bookshelf and turn him into a tiny little nerd, and I love the idea of giving him some of books that I enjoyed as a kid - but I’m not sure if he’ll like the books as much as I did! Unfortunately, I usually find myself spoiling the dickens out of him because I can’t stop buying seriously awesome stuff and because I have stepmommy guilt because we live so far away and can’t see him very often. I have to remind myself of the valuable piece of information I learned when we visited for his birthday in July: he thought pretty much every present we gave him was The Best Thing Ever, but he actually played with the action figures we picked up at the dollar store waaaaaaaaay more than he did with the more complicated (and more expensive) toys.

Take 5: I do have ONE Christmas present ready to go! Take a gander at my second finished crochet project: skinny pom-pom scarves in black and gold (of course) for one of my Pittsburgh in-laws, and modeled by yours truly. (I make ‘em look good, don’t I?)

Take 6: And while I’m cleaning out my digital camera, I might as well post some pics of my furbabies, right?

Please note that the five-month-old puppy is now bigger than her 2-and-a-half-year-old brother. Please also note how torn and stained my couch is. This is the price of having a small zoo in your home.

And here’s a pic of three of the five cats doing what they do best: EATING. I fill up four or five bowls with dry kibble every morning, and less than 24 hours later, they’re all empty. It is possible that Indy (the orange tabby bowling-ball-shaped guy on the right) is eating more than his share, but the kittens are definitely putting a dent in the food stores. Especially A.C. (not pictured, sorry), who compared to her brother Randall (he’s on the left in the pic) is quite a little butterball.

And in case you’re wondering, the cat in the middle does NOT have a tail, just that little nub you can see in the pic. He was adopted at age 4 by Jon’s ex-GF, so we have no idea if he was born that way (possibly a Japanese Bobtail or a Manx) or if he had an accident and lost the rest of his tail. It’s just part of his mystique. (And let me tell you, he has lots of mystique!)

Take 7: Audience Participation Tell me, what are you looking forward to about the holidays this year, and what’s giving you some serious stress? Do you have any strategies for eliminating holiday stress (like my slashing-the-holiday-card-list)? If you do, please share!

Pssssst! There’s more Quick Takes over at Conversion Diary. Check ‘em out!

Take 1: Today my company is having a fundraising picnic to benefit The ALS Association. For those of you that don’t know, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease) is “a progressive, fatal, neurodegenerative disease caused by the degeneration of … the nerve cells in the central nervous system that control voluntary muscle movement.” I’ve personally known two different people who were diagnosed with ALS; one was an incredibly talented and kind man who passed away two years ago and the other is a young husband and father - my age! with two little kids! - who is still battling the disease. It sounds trite to say that these two wonderful people don’t deserve such horrible suffering, but it’s true.

The ALS Association’s mission includes not just medical research but support and assistance for ALS patients and their families. If you have the resources, would you consider donating to the ALS Association?

Take 2: A church in a bar? Yes, Virginia, it does exist:

[Kathy] Price, who grew up in her father’s street ministry and coffee house, said she watched her dad minister to the homeless and the lost, joking that the “apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” A few years ago, Price said she became obsessed with the Catholic Saint Katherine of Sienna, a 14th Century figure known for preaching in pubs, and felt moved by the Holy Spirit do to the same thing.

I think it’s brilliant. I have often said that Jesus met people where THEY were. He didn’t sit in a tidy building with mauve carpet and oak pews, waiting for folksto show up at 10 a.m. on Sunday morning, in their best clothes with their hair combed just so. It’s become clear in the past, oh, half a century, that lots of people are interested in God and spirituality but totally disgusted with organized religion. Now, we could argue about how it’s unfair of these people to judge all Christians based on the bad behavior of a few priests and pastors and televangelists, and we could say that following Jesus is all about going outside of your comfort zone, and good golly, if people can’t be bothered to get up early on a weekend, how will they ever “die to sin” and “pick up their cross”? Those arguments ignore the reality that some people have been so damaged by religion that they just CAN’T meet God within the four walls of a local church - but they want to meet God. I believe that God “gets” that, that he’s providing new and different ways for people to get to know him.

Take 3: Has anyone read The Lost Symbol yet? Is it any good? I really enjoyed The Da Vinci Code (though the movie was a bit of a disappointment) and I thought Angels and Demons was really good, too (though slow at parts). I’m not sure I’m willing to pay full hardcover prices for the next installment in the saga, but if someone tells me that The Lost Symbol rocks like a Geo Metro driving 70 mph through a Nor’easter, I might be persuaded.

Take 4: On Tuesday, Jen at Conversion Diary posted an open call for folks who don’t celebrate Halloween to explain why. This is a touchy subject for me, because I was the daughter of someone who didn’t celebrate Halloween, and at age 30, I’m STILL a little annoyed about it. (Yes, I know I have issues, thank you.) I left a looooong comment about what it was like for me to be the only kid in my public school class to come in to school on November 1 without a big bag of candy, and it got me thinking about how parents sometimes make the mistake of expecting their children to become defenders of a faith that the kids don’t fully embrace or even understand.

Stay with me here: Becoming a person of faith (no matter what faith that is) requires a lot of thought, suffering through crises and recovering from crises, spending time on the mountain, communing with God, examining arguments, cycling through belief and disbelief, and eventually coming to a place where you feel like maybe you kind of know who you are and what you stand for. I think that some Christian parents (I can’t speak for other religions, as I haven’t discussed childrearing and religious instruction with very many Buddhist or Hindu parents) want to raise children who are “strong in their faith” but the parents’ interpretation of that is “never, ever questioning the dogma I’ve given them or straying from the path I’ve laid out for them.”

The problem is that no child will ever truly have a strong faith in ANYTHING if he doesn’t get a chance to question EVERYTHING. Questioning is hard for the questioner; how much harder it must be for the questioner’s mom and dad. We don’t want our kids to make bad choices. We don’t want them to reject the faith that means everything to us. But we have to let them dissect that faith and think about it critically if we want them to be able to believe it, and someday, defend it.

I don’t think I’m done thinking about this. I’m a little bit fascinated. Your thoughts?

Take 5: Remember how cute and teeny little Miss Anastasia was? Well, I took her to the vet last night and she now weighs 26.8 lbs. In the ten weeks we’ve had her, she’s more than quadrupled in size! The kicker is that I had her in the vet’s office LAST Thursday to be weighed so I knew which level of heartworm preventive to get for her, and at that time she only weighed 22.3 lbs. That’s right, y’all, she gained four and a half pounds in seven days.

She’s still cute as a button, though. And I found out something last night: those no-pull harnesses? I thought they were a gimmick, but they’re NOT. Ana was soooooo much easier to walk in her harness… though getting the harness ON her was a challenge

Take 6: To prove once again that not-so-old adage, “If you can think of it, it’s on the internet,” I present to you the crochet pattern for a bunny rabbit beer cozy. No, I am not lying to you.

Take 7: I’m having a baby! I debated about whether I should share this news on a public blog post. I mean, I’m only six weeks in, and I wondered if the entire internet needed to know my reproductive updates just yet. I thought, “What if something happens?” Well, if something happened I’d be really sad but I’d probably learn a few things and knowing me, I’d want to share those lessons with… well, the entire internet. And I want to share things with you now, like all the nifty baby websites I’ve found and the cool products I can’t wait to try out. Most of all, I just want to say: WOW. I’m going to be a mom. That thought is so big and so wonderful that I can’t keep it to just myself. It’s so wonderful that I kinda have to tell… the entire internet.

Photo credit: take 4 and take 7.

(Normally Fridays are the day to share my Seven Quick Takes, but this week I have something on my mind that can’t be stuffed into a “quick take.” I do recommend that you take a look at the SQT posts featured on Conversion Diary today!)

Have you ever had the feeling that someone just doesn’t like you? I get that feeling a lot, partly because some people DON’T like me (it’s shocking, I know) and partly because I was kind of an outcast as a child, so I always assume that when a situation becomes a little awkward, I’m doing something wrong. (Which is rather self-centered and yes, I’m aware that if I would just stop obsessing about it I’d probably do just fine, but that’s like telling a tiny hairless dog to just stop shivering. It’s in our nature, okay?) My “effortlessly effervescent” personality can, in unfamiliar and stressful situations, become loud, abrasive and domineering, so it’s no surprise that sometimes when folks first meet me they’re a little put off. Usually once they get to know me (and I remind myself to dial it down, for Pete’s sake) we end up just adoring each other.

Then there are the folks whose personalities just don’t mesh with mine, or who, for one reason or another just don’t like me. Or I don’t like them. I know this is okay - we don’t have to be BFFs with everyone we meet - but it still unnerves me a little bit. I feel like I should get along with everybody, even when the getting along is a Herculean effort. And I know that many other people have been in this situation - actually, I’m sure we ALL have! - but I still often feel as though I’m the only socially awkward loser out there.

The reason I bring this up is that I was feeling as if the leader of my Bible study just didn’t like me. I mean, we could make small talk, but every once in awhile during the group discussions, she’d give me a look or say something that made me think, “Uh oh, I must be hogging the conversation.” or “Uh oh, that comment must have been really shallow/mean/prideful/stupid.” And I’d resolve to sit back quietly throughout the rest of the evening. But I don’t sit back quietly very well! And so I was starting to feel as if I was in the Wrong Place. What was I thinking joining this study group? I’m not ready to be hanging out with Real Christians yet!

Well, this past Wednesday, God arranged it so that the group was just me and the leader. The other three attendees had emergency doctor’s appointments or whatever. I have to admit that at first I PANICKED. I was like, “Oh my God, I’m stuck for two hours with someone who doesn’t like me. She thinks I’m a heretic, and a loud obnoxious one at that. She’s judging me. Oh my God, SAVE ME.” But under the panic was a small voice that said, “This is a God thing. You’re supposed to be alone together.”

So we settled in with our notebooks and coffee and cookies - and she let her dogs out of their room so they could curl up with us - and watched the DVD that goes along with our Bible study. When the DVD session was over, we began discussing the topics it covered… then wandered into related subjects… and started sharing very openly about our lives, our past mistakes, our fears for the future, what we’re currently struggling with. We found out that we have a whole lot more in common than we’d realized, and we encouraged each other without judgement. It was a holy time, beautifully set apart just so this woman and I could get to know each other beyond the facades we presented at church.

The small coincidence of our one-on-one evening is just one of many small coincidences that God has worked in my life. In these little God-incidences (as I’ve heard them called) I learn that things aren’t always what they seem, that God’s got a plan, and most of all, I am reminded again of how much God loves me.

I used to say, years ago, when I often counseled and prayed people who were hurting, that when someone poured out their heart to me, trusted me with the darkest parts of their soul or their brightest hopes and dreams, I felt as if they had just handed me a million dollars. I was always humbled and honored that anyone would feel safe enough with me to trust me with the treasures of their heart. And this week, for the first time in a very long time, I felt that way again.

Photo credit.

It’s that time again! TGIF, y’all. By the way, if you’re looking for new and interesting blogs to read, be sure to check out the other quick takes over at Conversion Diary.

Take 1: My cat Fluffy took a shower with me this morning. Okay, not really WITH me, but she was in the tub licking the water off the shower curtain when I came into the bathroom to get ready for work. It doesn’t matter whether the water in the kitties’ bowl (or even the doggies’) is fresh and clean and cold, Fluffy still wants to drink out of the toilet (and leave wet pawprints on the seat) or from the tub. Anyway, she leapt onto the side of the tub when I turned on the water for my shower and sat there, between the decorative and the functional shower curtains as I scrubbed and shaved. Luckily, I’m not one of those people who gets freaked out when animals see me in various states of undress.

Take 2: Of course this cat-in-the-shower story deserves an LOLcat, and the re-telling of ANOTHER cat-in-the-shower story. My dearly departed Siamese, Oatmeal (that’s her below and to the right, by the way), hopped in the shower with me not once but twice - within the same week - when she was about seventeen years old. I was washing my hair when I heard a slip-thump behind me, and I turned to see my cat drinking the water that was swirling down the drain. It was the most ludicrous image I just had to laugh. She bailed as soon as I moved because the water stream shifted and she started getting REALLY wet, but she came back the next morning. I wondered if this was a new trend for Oatmeal and if I needed to start closing the door when I showered (which I didn’t do because I was living alone at the time and because the cat’s litter box lived in the bathroom), but no, after two mornings of co-showering, she was good.

Take 3: Then there was the time that I had filled the tub with bleach water to soak the mildew off of the functional shower curtain (nevermind that a new one only costs $2 - I was trying to be edo-thrifty) and Oatmeal FELL IN because she was trying to get a drink of the water. Of the bleach water! I flipped out! Luckily she was okay, but I never tried that eco-thrifty trick ever again.

Take 4: Bored of cats yet? Okay, let’s talk about dogs. My puppy Anastasia is the shoe-chewingest dog I’ve ever met! Milo has chewed exactly one shoe in all his time with us (of course, I was MORTIFIED when he did it because it was a friend’s shoe, not mine) but Ana has already ruined two pairs of my flip-flops (Including *sadness* the cute pair of black be-jeweled flipflops *woe* that I got for just $8 at Payless and wore to work nearly every day *kri*) and this morning, as I was checking my email and doing my caffeine upload, I noticed that she had settled down with ANOTHER one of the shoes I frequently wear to work! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Like a good mommy, I didn’t just scold her, I gave her an approved chew so she could soothe her teething gums and exercise her jaw without causing damage to any of mommy’s wardrobe.

The added bonus of Ana’s shoe fetish? Now everyone in the house keeps their shoes put away (most of the time) instead of leaving them scattered around the living room for ME to pick up. If I could just figure out a way to get them to pick up their dirty dishes and put them in the sink (or better yet, in the dishwasher) I would be a happy housekeeper.

Take 5: I’ve been thinking about volunteering and giving to charity and I wrote two looooong drafts of a post about these topics, and they were coming out all wrong, so I decided to let my thoughts incubate a little longer. The short version of what I wanted to say is that I think giving is important, and lately I’ve really been feeling the urge to give of my time. I’ve been feeling this way for a loooong time, but I haven’t yet made the plunge, and I’m not sure why. I think part of it is that I needed some time to further heal from being taken advantage of in my last volunteer position (official position title: Missionary to America; unofficial title: Indentured Servant to Crazy Controlling Cult Leader) and part of it is that I’m very impulsive and I’m trying to discipline myself to think things through before I make a huge decision. I tend to get excited about an idea and go all-out in my pursuit of bringing that idea to fruition, only to have my excitement (and my effort) fizzle out a few weeks/months later. So… well, so there. No resolution to this dilemma yet, just lots of contemplation. Which is probably why I couldn’t put together a satisfying blog post on the subject, LOL.

Take 6: It’s been far too long since I posted any artwork (in fact, I just realized I deleted my online portfolio the last time I revamped this blog… and though I want to get my portfolio back up, I also really need to revamp my blog layout AGAIN… but anyway) so here, have a black cat. I drew this last year (or was it the year before?) intending to scan it and use it for Halloween cards (perhaps to sell? And actually MAKE MONEY as an artist, what a concept) but I never got around to it (story of my life…). Well, Chrissy (my roommate/not-yet-sister-in-law) and I are planning on throwing a BIG Halloween bash this year, and it occurred to me that I ought to use this picture for the invites. Brilliant! Plus, for some reason, folks always love it when I give them something I drew, even if it is just a dinky little card.

Take 7: Audience Participation The woman who hosts my Bible study group has a lovely little apartment that’s decorated like something out of a Martha Stewart catalog, and I noticed this week that she’s brought out her holiday bathroom decor - specifically, Halloween-themed hand towels with cutesie witches and ghosts embroidered on them. This perplexed me a bit, because (so far as I can tell) this church seems to be fairly fundamentalist (albeit hip and cool), and most fundamentalist churches are anti-Halloween. I wanted to ask our hostess about her towels, but I decided against it because I figured I’d come across as weird. Still, I am confused. I’m not used to people who actually believe in Satan and a literal, historical interpretation of the Bible decorating their homes with witches and ghosts. So here’s a question for the Christians reading this: Do you celebrate Halloween? And whether you do or not, what’s your reasoning?

Oh, oh, oh! Audience Participation, part deux. I’m thinking of purchasing a netbook (a very CHEEEEEEEEAP netbook) since my laptop is being super-wonky and I need a reliable machine at home to waste time surfing the net and posting on my blog keep in touch with friends and family and run my AVON business. Fixing my current laptop (a six-year-old Macbook) would likely cost just a couple hundred less buying a brand-new netbook, and that additional expense could be offset by the fact that I can write the purchase off come tax time. When I discussed the purchase with my friend Kerry, she had some very good advice, and I wanted to open up the floor to other folks’ input as well. If you own a netbook, what kind is it and would you recommend it to someone else? If you DON’T own a netbook, do you have a make/model you’d really like to own? I’m looking at the Dell Mini 10, so I’d really like specific input about it, but any other insight would be helpful. Also: Do you consider virus protection and other Norton utilities to be necessary tools for a PC owner? Why or why not?

Seven Quick Takes is all about collecting random thoughts that, on their own, wouldn’t make a substantial blog entry, but gather together make something silly and wonderful. If you’re looking for new & interesting blogs to read, check out the other Quick Takes links over at Conversion Diary.

Take 1: Jennifer’s Quick Takes last week made me laugh so hard I cried. I beg you, PLEASE go read her about Trucknutz. It’s just so much comedic awesomeness I just had to share. Go on, I’ll wait.

Take 2: Back now? Great. I just wanted to let you know that on Monday evening (9/28) I’ll have been smoke-free for two months. Yaaaaaay!!! Interestingly, last night I dreamt that I smoked a cigarette. I’m happy to report that it tasted disgusting. I don’t know WHY I smoked it (and even if I did, dream logic is super weird, so knowing the why could very well just confuse me even more) but apparently my subconscious realizes that lighting up right now would be seriously unpleasant.

Take 2.5 How odd is it that I was able to TASTE in my dream? I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything during REM sleep before.

Take 3: This past Wednesday was the first “official” week of the Boundaries Bible study that I’m participating in through Reality Church. I LOVE the ladies in my group (it’s a chicks-only study) and I’m enjoying the material, but I still have the weirdest feeling about it. This probably has a little to do with the fact that the last time I jumped into church fellowship with both feet it ended rather badly. I think it’s quite fitting that the first Bible study I’m participating in after YEARS of avoiding churchiness is about setting limits with myself and others, because my lack of boundaries is one of the reasons I ended up in a cult. So although I’m pretty sure I’m on the right track spiritually, I am a little uncomfortable. But Jesus never promised us that the Christian life would be comfortable, did he? No.*

Take 4: AVON Calling! I’m challenging myself to work a little harder at my “second job” as an AVON Independent Sales Rep, so I want to take a second to point my loyal readers to my AVON e-store. I’m not saying you have to buy stuff from me to be my friend, but you know, it helps. (I’m kidding, of course!**)

Take 5: On an AVON-related note, yesterday I hung twenty product sample packs on doors in my neighborhood to let folks know that I’m “open for business.” At one of the houses I visited, I had a chance to say hello to the gentleman who lived there. He was courteous, but seemed a little shy and lonely, and also appeared to be ill. I’m trying to devise a way to reach out to him that will come across as neighborly-in-a-welcome-way not neighborly-in-an-annoying-and-creepy-way. He has a dachshund who was NOT happy to see a stranger coming up the driveway, so maybe I’ll stop by sometime with doggy treats. Do you guys have any other ideas?

Take 6: To celebrate our first anniversary, Jon and I spent last weekend at a friend’s house in North Carolina with my brother and his girlfriend. We cooked out, we ate oysters and clams, we boated, we drank wine - all in all, it was the PERFECT way to mark our first year as a married couple.

Take 7: Furbaby Update! I can’t believe how our kittens and puppy are growing. Last week I took them to the vet and found out that the kittens have quadrupled in size (they weigh four pounds apiece now!) since they came to live with us two months ago, and Anastasia has more than doubled in just four weeks - from 5.6 lbs to 12.8. Yikes! It makes sense, though, when you consider how much these little monsters eat.

Ana and Milo playing tug-of-war. It’s a typical older brother/baby sister relationship - Ana just ADORES Milo and is constantly bugging him. Sometimes he’s totally into playing with her, and other times he lets her know in no uncertain terms that she’s getting on his last nerve! He’s getting better about being her buddy, though, which makes me very happy.

Randall, chilling, and A.C. being so cute it’s just not even right. Randall is staying true to his snuggle-bug personality. Sometimes he doesn’t want to be held because he’s in the middle of playing (and he plays ROUGH!) but most of the time, if you pick him up, he starts purring immediately. He’ll squinch his eyes up and smile and let you kiss him about five hundred times. I love it! A.C. is still the adventurous one - not really into cuddling unless it’s her idea, and constantly on the move.

When I took the kittens to the vet, I had them re-tested for FIV. I’ve been saying I’d rehome the kittens immediately if they tested FIV negative - I’m a bit overwhelmed by the expense (not to mention the copious amounts of urine) of so many animals - and, well, the tests came back positive. I believe that things rarely happen for No Reason At All, and I’m starting to feel that maybe God wants us to have all these animals. Yeah, yeah, yeah, some folks might think I’m a little cuckoo because I look for signs from God even in my pet’s lives, but I don’t think it’s too far out there. God created these animals, and I’m sure he’s just as concerned with their welfare as he is with mine. I believe God wanted them to have long, happy and healthy lives and that he wanted to bless me with two delightful little friends (seriously, aside from the urine issue, it’s impossible for me to have a bad day with these guys around). It’s the little things, y’all, that make me so wonderfully happy every day. And realizing that God cares enough about two little furballs to coincidentally put them into a loving home helps me to trust God to provide for all of my needs.

* There ought to be a clause about that in the Baptismal Covenant.
** Mostly.

I totally missed Seven Quick Takes on Friday, so here’s a kind of make-up session of that. Only I can’t promise I’ll hit seven on the dot, I’m not sure how quick I’ll be, and this entry is going to be all about the awesome.

Awesome Thing #1: I found a church I like! To show you God’s sense of humor, it happens to be a church I avoided visiting for years because it meets in the same high school cafeteria my old church met in, and the pastor is my mom’s old pastor. And remember how I said I was feeling drawn to the Catholic church? Yeah, this place is an Evangelical, non-denominational fellowship. So not where I was expecting to end up. And it may not be where I end up - I’ve only visited twice, so who knows? It may not be my cup of tea for the long term, but for right now I’m enjoying it.

Awesome Thing #2: I baked a loaf of bread yesterday! I cannot tell you how thrilled I am about this. I’m really intimidated by baking, because I’ve had a couple big “oops” moments. Cooking is so much easier than baking, because you don’t have to measure or worry about things turning out just right. Bread especially scared me because it requires lots of waiting and kneading and holy crap what if my yeast it bad, etc. Well, I found a recipe for Two-Cheese Batter Bread in my Good Housekeeping Step-by-Step Cookbook, which did not require a whole lot of kneading and waiting and worrying. (Apparently, that’s the whole point of batter breads, and I think it’s ingenius.) The bread was so, so yummy, and I felt wildly accomplished when I pulled it of the oven.

I also felt inspired! You know what I might actually be up to trying? Pie crusts. That’s right, y’all, I’m gonna walk on the wild side. Let’s hope I won’t cry if they don’t turn out flaky and nomalicious the first time around.

P.S. The Good Housekeeping cookbook, along with Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything and Betty Crocker’s classic cookbook, which my mother gave me when I married my first husband, are the three books I visit over and over again for new recipes and challenges as well as old favorites. Favorites like Betty’s chocolate chip cookies, which I made yesterday as well!

Awesome Thing #3: Last weekend my friend Anika visited with her husband and 2.75-year-old daughter. We had a blast! Their daughter LOVED our dogs and cats, which made me happy. One of the best things about having pets is that they’re not just a blessing to us, but to other people as well. Also, I don’t have to be that interesting or funny, because folks are usually quite entertained by my kitties being silly. All I have to do is answer the door and serve something edible. Score!

Awesome Thing #4: My friend Kerry has generously offered to help me overcome my fear of sewing. Y’all, once I figure out that dammit, I AM smart enough to figure out making pretty things and yummy foods, I will be a domestic force to contend with! We picked out some really pretty fabric to make purses for myself and my brother’s GF. They’re both gonna be pink on the outside, but Chrissy’s will be lined with a saucy tattoo-style graphic print, and mine will be lined with a Care Bears print. THAT’S RIGHT, Y’ALL. FREAKING CARE BEARS. As soon as I saw the Care Bears fabric, something broke inside my brain and I HAD TO HAVE IT.

Awesome Thing #5 Remember how I said that I don’t feel very domestically gifted? Well, either I’m more gifted that I thought I was or I’ve got everyone fooled. Kerry told me this week that she thinks my house is “immaculate” (!!!) and when I relayed this craziness to Jill, she agreed. “Your house is ALWAYS clean.” Shut up! Don’t you see the three pairs of shoes piled by the front door? The dog toys strewn about the living room? The stuffing leaking out of every pillow on the sofa, because apparently our furniture is ALSO a dog toy? The crumbs and sticky stuff on my stove? The pile of dishes in the sink?

But then I stepped back and thought, “Yeah, they’re kinda right. I do try to keep the clutter to a minimum, and frequently succeed, and I’ve learned to stay on top of little things like wiping the bathroom sink clean and sweeping the floor.” Those little things make a HUGE difference in how the house feels, and I love it.

Maybe there is hope for me on the domestic goddess front, eh? And isn’t it wild how we often think we’re terrible at something only to find out that everyone else thinks we’re doing a great job?

Awesome Thing #6 I hung out with Jill yesterday at the childcare center she directs, where we stenciled her school’s core values on the freshly-painted walls. It was great day - I love having girl talk with Jill, and it felt good to do a favor for her and her kids. Unfortunately, I had take off in a hurry because I remembered at 3 p.m. that I was supposed to deliver a meal to one of the families from Coastal Community Church that’s going through a hard time. I raced to the store and then back home to cook, and managed to deliver a chicken pot pie, salad, fruit and cookies just an hour after I’d promised to do so!

Awesome Thing #7: I haven’t smoked for 1 month, 2 days and 16 hours. That’s 404 cigarettes not smoked for a savings of $106. BOO-YAH.

Look at that! I did manage to end up with Seven Things of Awesome. Tell me, what awesome things have happened to YOU this week?

At my former church, we had a saying: “CIQM,” pronounced “sic em,” like what you say to an attack dog when you want him to make hamburger out of someone’s face. “CIQM” stood for Catch It Quick Missionaries, referring to how our pastor would send us missionaries (those of us who worked or volunteered full-time at the church and were part of the pastor’s inner circle) to confront someone who was “in sin.” “Sin” was basically not doing what the pastor wanted you to do, and if the person in question did not yield to the pressure we applied in the form of yelling, belittling, and threatening, we washed our hands of the situation and effectively shut him or her out of the congregation.

Let me assure you, I am not proud of this part of my past. But you need to understand where I’ve come from to understand where I am now.

Yesterday, Jen @ Conversion Diary wrote a very interesting post about selfishness and sacrifice. I love reading Jen’s blog, but this time, the most interesting thing about the post is the comments! Some folks are all, “Whoa, Jen, thanks for your honesty! This post really convicted me about my own selfishness. Blessings!!!1!” Other folks are all, “Dayum, Jen, you’re a big fat meanie. HATESTABKILL!!!1!” I was kind of blown away that such a touchy-feely post could generate such widely divergent points of view and some truly genuine antipathy. (I shouldn’t have been surprised, considering that I have, in my blogging career, managed to unknowingly offend countless readers and stir up sh*t storms the likes of which civilization did not know before the anonymity of the internet. However, I usually assume that I’m a Very Special Case, being impulsive, mouthy, and opinionated.)

Reading the comments on Jen’s blog inspired me to share a story from my early post-cult days, when my ex-husband and I were trying to figure out how to live without having “God’s” will for our every action spelled out to us by a mentally unstable, egomaniacal pastor. Having decided to leave the church staff, I was feeling adrift in a sea of WTF DO I DO NOW??? As I questioned all the things we’d ever accepted as right and true, my ex clung tightly to fundamentalism, afraid that if he admitted anything was wrong, the entire house of cards would collapse.

So there we were - spiritually traumatized - standing in line at Wal-Mart, when the man ahead of us said, “Excuse me, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to pay for part of this lady’s groceries?” He gestured to the older woman who was accompanying him; all of her groceries had been rung up and she’d just been given a total. “She has brain cancer and is on a fixed income.”

I answered immediately, without apology or qualification, “NO.”

The guy looked at me with horror and disgust baldly apparent in his eyes and repeated in disbelief, “No?” My ex apologized (as he often did when he felt I was being too blunt), saying, “We really can’t, we’re kind of on a tight budget, too.” The guy gave my husband a sympathetic smile, as if saying, “I’ll pray for you, buddy - your wife is a SHREW EXTRAORDINAIRE!” and returned to his friend’s side.

I wondered then - and now I’m pretty sure I’m right - whether that man approached us because my ex was wearing a T-shirt that said something on it about Jesus. I think he assumed that because we were Christians we owed him or his friend something. Guess what? We don’t. The only person I owe anything to is God, and if he wants me to pay for your groceries, he’ll tell me to.

You know how when you were a kid, and your younger brother stole your favorite toy or ruined one of your sweaters, and you tried to exact revenge on him in the form of a good, hearty beating, and your mom hollered at you, “Emily, I’ll handle it! You worry about you, and I’ll worry about Glenn.” (Maybe your childhood didn’t include frequent episodes like that, but mine certainly did!) Well, I think that’s how God handles stuff. We get all huffy and self-righteous about people who don’t do what we KNOW for SURE God wants them to do and God says, “Would you cool down and worry about your own stuff? I’ll handle this.”

God knew all the things that this guy did not know about me and my husband. He knew about the spiritual abuse, and how poor we were because we gave well beyond a tithe to our church and I was rarely paid for the work I did there every day. He knew that we’d have lost our house if I hadn’t received an insurance settlement for a minor traffic accidence earlier that year. He knew that we’d had to rely on the charity of others to get through the winter, that I hadn’t had new clothes (unless you call the secondhand stuff I pulled out of the donation box at church) for years, and that despite all of that we still made an effort to give cheerfully to people who had less than we did.

Was this guy right in judging me for refusing to give money to a sick old woman? No. But was I right in being so flaming pissed off at him, considering that he did not know any of the details of my life? No. We both could have cut each other some slack.

Often, Christians are quick to point out what a sinner someone else is. True, they might not be so bad as those of us on the CIQM team, but that judgement and self-righteousness is there all the same. We measure ourselves against each other, and find one another wanting. What we forget is that we’re not supposed to be comparing ourselves to one another, but to the model of Jesus. And guess what? ALL OF US ARE EPIC FAIL WHEN IT COMES TO BEING JUST LIKE JESUS.

As Jesus himself said, we’re missing the point if we’re trying to pick the speck of dust out of someone else’s eye when we have a huge plank sticking out of OUR eye. If we’re going to catch anything quick, let’s catch our own bad behavior - not someone else’s.

…and this morning I decided NOT to respond to the day with my usual grousing, but to have a positive attitude. So what if it’s Monday? I can still have a good day, right? I mean, it’s only the first day of the work week. I do this every seven days, and I’ve learned that Monday always, eventually, slides into Tuesday…then Wednesday…then Thursday-Friday-WEEKEND-YAY! Then we start all over again. So what else is there to do that just accept where we are on the calendar and enjoy the day?

Yes, folks, I am such a Stuart Smalley/Pollyanna/Mary Sunshine that I won’t even let myself hate Mondays. Sometimes I’m ashamed of my disgustingly positive outlook, because I fear turning into someone that just annoys the snot out of everyone she knows. (And it’s entirely possible that I already annoy the snot out of everyone I know and just don’t realize it yet. But I won’t let myself dwell on such negativity!)

Yesterday I visited Coastal Community Church (again - I’ve been there several times over the past year or so). It was quite a different experience from the one I had last Sunday at Kempsville Presbyterian Church; the biggest difference being that I know quite a few people at Coastal (including several of the pastors), whereas I was completely anonymous at KPC. In the first few years after leaving Christ Church (a.k.a. the Cult), when my first husband and I were separated, I HATED running into people I knew from my old church life. I always felt like they were judging me, mourning my demise from Good Christian Girl to Heathen Divorcee. Whether they were or not is absolutely irrelevant - I was a big tub of shame and all I could do was project my negative feelings onto other people. For that reason I adamantly did NOT want to go to churches where I might run into anyone I knew. Actually, I didn’t want to go to church AT ALL, so I didn’t.

Well, it took a few years and a lot of healing, but I’m actually at a place where I don’t feel as if I’m wearing a big scarlet letter (at least, most of the time I don’t) and I want to go to church REALLY REALLY BAD, and I want to see people I know and like. Now, I’m finding myself in the middle of a different sort of weirdness. After being used for so many years at Christ Church, and giving every bit of energy (not to mention money, and, oh, self-respect) I had to the ministry, I was hyper-sensitive to being taken advantage of. Ironically, I ran into Coastal’s pastor a few years ago, and he said they really needed “folks like me” in their church. I was appalled. What, you want to use me? You see me as nothing more than someone who’s really good at working hard and leading Bible studies and printing bulletins and making coffee? I am a person, you know!

Yeah, that was probably a bit of an overreaction. Whoops. Yesterday, when the pastor took my hand and said how glad he was to see me, I was really touched - and glad to see him, too. I also ran into an old friend, who said how glad she was that I “came back” and that she was sure I’d love Coastal. On the one hand, I wanted to say, “Slooooow down, tiger, I’m just visiting! I have no idea what my home church is supposed to be - heck, I have no idea what ‘kind’ of Christian I’m supposed to be!” But on the other hand - and this is kinda bad, I think - my heart leapt at the idea of belonging again. Of having people glad to see me every Sunday. Of being part of something. Of being important. I mean, for a long time I was a big fish in the little pond of Christ Church. Everyone knew my name. I was a role model, an example. I was doing God’s work, and I felt a tremendous sense of purpose, but I also felt (ugh, this is hard to say) a lot of POWER. I had prestige and influence. Sure, I was overworked and underpaid, but in some ways it was worth it, just so I could feel important.

And you know, that’s not how I want to make my decision about my church home. On the one hand, I can tell that God is doing good things at Coastal - I teared up at several points during Sunday’s service, because I can see the positive effects of that place on people’s lives. Do I want to be a part of what God’s doing? Of course I do! But I want to do it for the right reasons, in the right time, at the right place.

So, more discerning is in order. More church-visiting. More praying. And most of all, more enjoying the process. Now that I have realized that I need a spiritual home, and now that I’m at a place where I’m comfortable searching, I need to keep my mind and heart open. It’s okay if I don’t figure things out right away, if I feel a little lost sometimes, because I know that God is guiding me.

Seriously: NOT COOL.

A popular priest known as “Father Oprah” has left the Roman Catholic Church and joined the Episcopal Church less than a month after a tabloid published photos of him cavorting on the beach with his girlfriend in a scandal that rocked South Florida’s Spanish-speaking community.

On Thursday, as thunder boomed outside and paparazzi cameras flashed, the Rev. Alberto Cutie (KOO’-tee-ay) held a news conference at the pulpit of the Episcopal Church’s Trinity Cathedral. Standing behind him: the Episcopal bishop, a half-dozen Episcopal priests and his girlfriend.

This story incites a sputtering, screaming, throwing-things-at-walls rage in me. Why? NOT because a priest fell in love and had a secret affair. People are people, no one is without sin. No one. This includes clergy. I’m not mad that Rev. Cutie is leaving the Catholic Church and becoming an Episcopal priest - um, it seems to be the logical thing to do since he doesn’t want to give up his vocation OR his relationship with his girlfriend. What makes me OMFG PISSED OFF is that the Episcopal Church seems to have welcomed him with open arms and without condition. Sure, he has to jump through some hoops to be an “official” Episcopal priest, but it appears that the ECUSA is going to let him pastor a new congregation without asking him to take a time out from ministry at all.

NOT. COOL.

The issue here is not sex. It’s the breaking of vows. It’s the betrayal of trust. It’s the secrecy, the lying. It’s the fact that Cutie lived a double life for TWO YEARS and when he was caught by a tabloid and taken to task by his spiritual authorities (his “boss,” if you will), he flounced to another denomination instead of humbly saying, “Dayum, I messed up.”

Something that may not be understood by people who aren’t part of a Christian community: a pastor has a lot of influence, and power, over the people in his* church. Sometimes his influence extends beyond his church to other churches in his area (if he serves on denominational or ecumenical committees, for example), and to unchurched people in his community/nation (if his church does outreach, say, in the form of soup kitchens, clothing drives, or educational reform). When a man chooses to violate the vows that he took when he became a priest, he is not only sinning against God, he’s betraying ALL the people he committed to serve, all the people he’s instructed and counseled over the years. And he needs to make amends.

But that’s not what Cutie is doing. He’s unwilling to say, “You know, my bad judgment shows that I’m not in a place to help other people right now. Once I get my head on straight, I’ll BRB.” Because he’s clueless, someone else needs to smack some sense into him. Unfortunately, the Episcopal Church (which, by the way, is the denomination I served in for five years, and I love them dearly, but they can be so full of FAIL sometimes) is asleep at the wheel. The ECUSA has recently seen a dramatic drop in church attendance as well as a decline in new priests entering the ministry. Many Episcopal congregations across the country have NO PASTOR because there’s a huge shortage of clergy. Of course I don’t know the whole story behind Cutie’s conversion (disclaimer alert!), but I have a sneaking suspicion that the Episcopal Church’s lack of judgment has a whole lot to do with their desperation to fill pulpits and pews. And that is NOT. COOL.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that making a Big Mistake disqualifies anyone from ministry. I’m not saying that it’s wrong for a pastor to be married (or, for that matter, gay - which I have to mention because The Gay Episcopal Bishop Debacle caused my Diocese to implode a few years ago). What I’m saying is that it’s wrong for someone to be so arrogant as to assume that his sneaky, selfish actions have no impact on the people he promised to serve in humility and purity.

NOT. COOL.

* There are many women pastors/priests in Christian denominations around the world, including the Episcopal Church. When discussing pastors/priests in this post, I’ve chosen to use only male pronouns for the sake of simplicity, and because the priest in question is a male.