1. Tell us about any group(s) you currently belong to. (e.g. book club, knitting circle, walking buddies, etc.)
I belong to a quilt guild, and within that to a quilting bee. We meet two evenings a month. I love both, for different reasons. The guild is large (about 75), the bee is small (about 6). I also belong to an ongoing block exchange group (about 12 ladies). I love that group too.
2. Do you feel energized or drained by being in a group situation? If the answer is “it depends,” on what does it depend? After large guild meetings and the block exchange meetings I feel drained. After bee, sometimes energized sometimes drained. But that’s hard to evaluate, because it’s in the evening and I’m tired anyway. I’m a morning person and an introvert … so evening events and large groups are hard. Evening events and small groups are easier, but still …
3. Is there a role you naturally find yourself playing in group situations? That is, do you naturally fall into the leader role, or the one who always makes sure the new person feels welcome, or the quiet one who sits back and lets others shine, or the host?
I’m usually a leader because I’m a naturally bossy older sister type. It’s one of the more unsightly aspects of my personality. 4. Handshakes vs. hugs: discuss.
Handshakes because I’m from New England … but down here in the south everyone hugs all the time and it gives me the willys. 5. Ice breakers: a playful way to build community in a lighthearted manner, or a complete and utter hell of forced fun and awkwardness?
Utter hell of forced fun and awkwardness … unless I’m in charge and don’t have to play ;-).
Bonus: If you answered “playful and lighthearted,” share your favorite ice breaker.
Here it is … my new little place in the blogosphere. I’m settling in. I kind of like this spot. And, hey, if you’re unhappy with the current background you can play around with it by clicking on the little thumbnails under the title at the upper left. I’ve imported all of my posts from blogspot, so there’s not much new here … yet! It’s just a new look. I still have to bring over all my links and fun stuff and there’s a big learning curve I’m working on. So I hope no one’s feelings will get hurt if you’re not linked here yet.
Welcome … poke around and have fun.
Lately I’ve seen some sights around town that made me look twice and think thrice. Since I just got back from my long drive (to East Overshoe to our CSA farm) and I need to wind down, here are a few of them.
The other day I was driving past a church. The sign out front advertised a family movie night on Friday and an open house on Sunday. “Huh?” I thought, “And here I thought everyday was open house for a church! What was I thinking??!!” Today I drove past it and they are advertising “World Communion” for this Sunday.
I saw a young guy walking down the street. I know I’m firmly implanted in my middle years. But I’m used to seeing all sorts of clothing and not being phased by it. I don’t remember specifics, I just remember remarking to Sizzling Ewe that perhaps this particular young man ought to cease purchasing his fashion sense at Montgomery Ward, since they’ve gone out of business.
I found it remarkable today that the two vehicles that were the most aggravating to drive behind were SUVs with dealer tags. They were aggravating because the drivers were having issues handling them. They didn’t even want to go the speed limit and braked at every turn. It was annoying.
There’s a church I pass on the way to East Overshoe called Believers Baptist Church. For some reason this name makes me laugh. It also makes me want to stop and ask the pastor what sort of believers they are looking for. There is something about that name that is officious and pompous. It sounds like hiked-up pants and slick hair.
I love the drive going out to East Overshoe. It gets progressively less congested and more beautiful. I hate the drive coming home. It’s everything in reverse and I’m driving into rush hour traffic. Bleh….
We made butter in the Osgiliath Classical School Potions class the other day. That’s chemistry for all you who might be wondering. We were investigating the different states of matter. It gave me renewed appreciation for my colonial mothers. We made butter with just one cup of cream and we had a cold storage unit handy. If it didn’t work, so what? But my colonial mothers had to do this and much more every day … every, every, EVERY day. Or their families went hungry and cold. We have so much convenience in our lives we don’t even know what to do with it. We don’t even recognize most of it.
LightBoy’s current ambition is be Mr. Spock from the original Star Trek. This morning he brought me his sister’s eyeliner and asked me to draw Spock eyebrows on him. I complied, but it’s been very unsettling to look at him today. He has, essentially, two sets of eyebrows on his sweet round face and one set makes him look sinister. Of course, he thinks this is very wonderful. We are now in the market for a Mr. Spock costume for Halloween. Oh … yay. Then LightGirl decided she would like to be Lt. Uhura (with the very short dress). I said, “No. You will not be Lt. Uhura (with the very short dress).”
Back in March, you may remember that LightGirl entered a contest called Fashion Revue with a pair of pants she had sewn. She won a blue ribbon for her efforts. At that time, I fought a full scale battle to get her to wear a little eye shadow, mascara and blush for the contest as she had to model her outfit for some judges. It was just to make her look well put together. Finished, as it were. Now (less than 6 months later) she wears full makeup every day. I finally asked her one morning if we should expect this from now on. She said we should. The other morning tho, I had to object. I think that when eyeliner can be measured with a ruler in eighth inch increments, it has been applied too liberally. She has backed off a little since then.
We began walking again this morning. I should say huffing and puffing. It wasn’t pretty. It was interesting to see all the gardens on the far side of the season. Then I felt sad. I realized how much I’ve missed by not walking through the summer. I could have seen all the comings and goings of the flowers and other crops, but I was lazy and I missed it. I did part of the loop alone. I couldn’t have done that last winter because I was so scared. And I left the house without any wallet or identification … another huge step for me. I am much stronger now.
Well … those are some snapshots of life in the LightHouse and more frightening still, into my mind recently. I’ll try to keep these posts to a minimum.
We’re embarking on a new journey at my church. We’re diving into the Jewish holidays this year to see what the study of the roots of our faith can teach us about us. We began this past Sunday with Rosh HaShana and we’ll continue with Yom Kippur on this Sunday next. We’re having to play fast and loose with the dates because we’re limited to meeting on Sundays. This feels slightly disingenuous to me, but I’ll get over it.
Then, because we’re “generous liturgists,” we played fast and loose with the themes of Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur … and flipped them too. So this past Sunday we examined the themes of sin, judgement and repentance. Next Sunday we’ll examine grace, mercy and forgiveness. It seems to me that in the Jewish tradition things are not so tidy and separate. But they’ve had about 5,000 years to build these traditions and they take whole days to celebrate. We’re doing it in an hour and a half. I still feel like we’re cheating.
All of that is to say, I’ve been think a lot lately about the themes of repentance and grace. Sin and forgiveness. Judgement and mercy. Studying the Jewish traditions has thrown our Christian traditions into bas relief ; like a woodcut almost. I see them in their starkest forms. Being the sort of person I am, I’ve been busily drawing parallels and links from one tradition to the other; finding the roots of us in them. Much of what I’ve learned has turned my past knowledge of Jewish tradition on it’s ear. It’s helped me see Jesus in a new light. It’s also causing me to be a more than a little critical of some of our current traditions.
In particular I think we’ve become grace-abusers in the church today. I think (and I include myself in the word we) we are entirely too flippant about the gifts of grace, mercy and forgiveness. I don’t think we should spend time becoming ascetics or self-flaggellants, but I think we need to spend more time understanding the full weight of the judgement that has been lifted from us. In part, I’ve enjoyed the study of Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur because I’ve begun to to come to a greater comprehension of what it means. In the Jewish tradition, they take time each year to engage with that. To wrestle with their own humanity in the face of God’s divinity and then to be thankful for the gifts of grace, mercy and forgiveness that He extends to them.
It may be that Easter and Lent were originally meant to fill this role in our tradition. But I think we’re missing that proper sense of balance between judgement and mercy, sin and forgiveness, repentance and grace. We’re happy to hear the mercy, forgiveness and grace side of the story. But we don’t like to examine the judgement, sin and repentance side. It’s when we have both in balance that God’s work shines in the world. When we can examine ourselves clearly, and see ourselves objectively, we can begin to be the change that we wish to see in the world. I think that until we’re willing to do that (and it’s unsightly, painful work), we’ll just be another group of people talking a good talk and not doing anything.
Father, I ask you now to forgive my sins. Forgive the sins that I can remember, and also the sins that I have forgotten. Forgive the wrong actions that I have committed, and the right actions I have ommitted. Forgive the times I have been weak in the face of temptation, and those when I have been stubborn in the face of correction. Forgive the times I have been proud of my own achievements, and those when I have failed to boast of Your works. Forgive the harsh judgements I have made of others, and the leniency I have shown myself. Forgive the lies I have told to others, and the truths I have avoided. Forgive me the pain I have caused others, and the indulgences I have shown to myself. I ask in the name of Jesus, your son, Amen. (from Celtic Primer)
A good friend of our has suggested in the past that our family should have various superpowers to go with our names. I like that idea. We haven’t yet acquired these superpowers. But I think that one of the powers that LightGirl has is that of silliness and giddiness. In her role as keeper of humor in our home she sent me a link to this. It’s hilarious and makes you laugh even when you think you have nothing to laugh for. So … watch and giggle and share in some of LightGirl’s transcendent giddiness.
My church is young. By this I mean we’ve only been around for about 5 years. Every Labor Day weekend we mark our anniversary. So as I write this we’ve been around for almost exactly 5 years, plus a few weeks. We’re young too, in the chronological age of our members. LightHusband and I are among the oldest people here. This flummoxes me regularly because I still pinch myself to remember that I’m a grownup now. The LightFamily has been part of the church since early 2004, so about half of it’s life.
Shortly after getting intimately involved (we don’t have members, we have a yahoogroup), I was asked to join the Design Team. This is the team that is responsible for opening up some kind of sacred space for people to meet God on Sunday mornings. That probably sounds very heathen. It’s not. We’re more conservative than that sounds, but still … we are doing a series this year celebrating the Jewish holidays. We’re responsible for creating the space for spiritual formation to occur at some level.
Last Labor Day weekend (2005) we had a labyrinth (as we often do on that Sunday), and a cookout. The next weekend we had a party welcoming our newest member into the world. The following Sunday we had a baptism. You can see photos of all these events on our website. Last September was analogous to Bilbo’s birthday party in the beginning of the Lord of the Rings. Or perhaps it was more like the opening of A Tale of Two Cities; It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…. In any case, we were “shiny, happy people,” with little thought of tomorrow.
This September things are all different. I won’t say that we’re not joyful anymore. That would be an untruth. But we’re no longer shiny and happy. We’ve all walked through some dark places this year. Some darker than others. For some the path is not yet finished. Perhaps that means that for all of us, the path is unfinished. Regardless, this year has marked us all. There are lines on all of our faces. Ghosts behind all of our eyes. A steadiness and seriousness that comes with knowing darkness. And still the joy that comes with knowing the light.
Perhaps that’s why this piece of Scripture seemed so appropriate for our Contemplation yesterday:
19 I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall.
20 I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me.
21 Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
22 Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.
23 They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
24 I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” (Lamentations 3:19-24)
Today was a day for new things in our family. At our church we joined with the Jewish tradition and celebrated Rosh HaShana. We explored the themes of het (missing the mark), judgement and repentance. Examining the ways that not following the Great Commandments wounds those in our tribe, or sphere of influence. Checking out the manner that lists of sins have become matters of the heart and the ways in which we can be turned towards God or away from him.
Well … that’s what LightBoy and I did.
LightGirl and LightHusband left very early this morning and drove to a city somewhat south of here for her first hockey game ever. The coach plays everybody … every body. An excellent coach, who can find. One who is more concerned about teamwork and relationships than about winning (even tho that is important). LightHusband came home with glowing reports about how wonderful the coach and the game was. LightGirl said, “We lost. But now I know everyone’s names!” It’s those little things that are important.
So here are some pictures of my girl. Looking like official. Wearing number 11. Playing the one game that is sure to tweek my nerves. After all the fights endured by my parents between my brother and I over whether he would watch Hockey Night in Canada, or I would get to watch The Waltons. Surely, I thought, living in a southern city and raising a girl, hockey was not even on my radar. ‘Twas not to be. And I am left with the last laugh.
When I was in highschool I remember that my fondest dream was to never make decisions that I would regret. I was very sure that this was going to be a simple task to accomplish. At the ripe old age of 17 or 18 and even when I was in college and on into my early 20’s the notion that decisions were simple matters of black and white, that the path ahead would be clearly marked seemed obvious to me.
I’ve discovered, of course, that life is full of shades of grey. Black and white are mostly reserved for television programs and movies. Paths are fraught with twists and turns; some of which can be discerned, but most cannot. Choices must be made. Mostly I’ve learned that it’s not the large decisions that affect us the most. Sometimes the small decisions have the largest effect.
Of course, too one must also consider who to grieve the most. Should I grieve myself, or my children, or my husband? Or my calling? How to make decisions in that arena?
I made a decision to follow my heart, but it means missing the chance to see, and support LightGirl play in her first hockey game ever. Now I have to decide, am I actually following my heart? or just my ego?
Planning a funeral is like planning a wedding. It is the photographic negative of a wedding; done in 5 days without joy. A gift the giver hates to give and the receiver wishes to reject. Grief abounds. Etched in deep lines on the faces of those you love. Pain cannot be shared. Each must walk their own path, together yet somehow separate.
I felt pieces of me break away and die yesterday.
Remembering a beautiful baby and honoring his father and mother.
How long, O Lord, how long must we sing this song?