Oh, be careful little mouth, what you say…
Sep 30th, 2007 by Sonja

For the Father up above,
Is looking down in love,
So be careful little
mouth what you say.

It’s a hokey children’s VBS song. But there’s a skosh of truth to it. Just enough that I’m quoting it here. I don’t think I’d want my children to sing it, mind you … but it will do to make a point.

I’m home from my quilting retreat. It was a good time. I was in the “Annex” room. Off the main room. We had more fun than the ladies in the main room. They kept coming in to ask what we were laughing about. I think it’s because our average age was about 15 years younger than the average age in the main room. Or something.

BlazingEwe was there. So was InteriorDecorator … in fact, she was one of the organizers. Yesterday I hurt my back sitting on a hard stool. But today I took my comfy chair and it was much better.

An old friend has rejoined the guild. I’ve known her since before LightBoy was born. I met her just after her son died of cystic fibrosis. She was one of my first quilting teachers. She was a member of my first CLB and I lost track of her when we left it in 2003 because she had sort of drifted away from the guild and quilting as well at the time. About 18 months ago she left that CLB under fire as well. I heard about it through the grapevine and reached out to her at the time. But it wasn’t the right time. Which was cool.

Yesterday she thanked me for that reach. And we talked. And cried. And grieved. We’ve both lost a lot in our different journeys. The one thing that we both lost is was an openness with everyone. We don’t know who to trust anymore, so we trust no one.

We criticize so quickly and easily these days. We make assumptions about peoples motives and hearts with the flip of a hair do. Here’s the thing. Those assumptions, accusations, critique and finally, judgement bear weight. Words do hurt and they bear harm for a long time.  When we make those assumptions, accusations, critiques and judgements to other people … when we bear witness about people to others it does damage.  Merely asserting the truth of our statements does not undo the damage that we may have done by bearing false witness.  Those that think they are correct in their false assumptions about a person’s motives.

I wonder why it is so important that people be correct vs. being loving?

When I was googling around to find the whole verse for the silly song above, I found this scripture from Proverbs 6:

16-19 Here are six things God hates,
and one more that he loathes with a passion:
eyes that are arrogant,
a tongue that lies,
hands that murder the innocent,
a heart that hatches evil plots,
feet that race down a wicked track,
a mouth that lies under oath,
a troublemaker in the family.

I took it from The Message.  In the NIV, the language is stronger.  Notice, though, lying (or bearing false witness) is mentioned twice, along with a heart that hatches evil plots.  Meditate on that for awhile … sometimes when we’re so focussed on being “right,” about someone … we become diametrically opposed to the will of God

More On Love
Sep 28th, 2007 by Sonja

One of the most powerful prescriptions for loving each other comes at the words of Jesus just before he went to the cross. It is recorded in the gospel of John, chapter 15:

9“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. 10If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father’s commands and remain in his love. 11I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. 12My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. 13Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.

It’s a struggle, that.

I’m particularly struggling through this with the LightChildren. They are struggling with a friend and are learning some new relationship tools. So I find myself reflecting on this passage on many levels … the kerfuffle of earlier this week regarding critique, TexasBlueBelle and her man and now my children … not to mention my own processing of issues from our CLB. How do we love people in the midst of strife?

I’m heading out the door to a sewing retreat where I will sew and meditate upon this. So add your thoughts at will and I’ll enjoy reading them when I return.

Critique, Criticism and the Gong Show
Sep 26th, 2007 by Sonja

There’s been some *stuff* goin’ down in the blogosphere this week. A certain combative pastor from the west coast has been critical of some other emerging pastors. It’s been reported and discussed over in Graceland. Many are winking at the whole affair. The swords were rattling and got loud in the ears of a good brother from the northland.

All the discussion got me thinking about how us humans handle criticism and critique. Cause, you know, nobody really likes it. It’s no fun. If we’re honest, none of us like to hear it. Even under the best of circumstances. But (as you may have noticed if you’ve been around here much lately) I’ve been doing some painting. It’s given me a chance to meditate on this quite a bit. Two things came to mind as I thought about criticism and critique in the church at large … 1 Corinthians 13 and my sainted grandmother.

Now stop thinking of 1 Corinthians 13 as a wedding scripture and just read it … read it and think about what it says to us about how to treat each other. Not how to treat a lover, but your brothers and sisters.

Love

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

I thought about this in terms of my grandmother, my Grammy O. My Grammy O was one of my very favorite people ever. There probably was no one more different from me in my family than my Grammy O. But she and I were also quite close. Now she was brought up in a very proper British home and felt that good manners ought to be followed just because. I was a child that needed a good reason for everything. I believe that I tried everyone’s patience. Church was an important part of my grandparent’s life because it was a social expectation. I believe they had a faith, but it was also part of their social routine and moral code to participate in church and the structures that it built in their lives. My mother (their daughter) rejected the church and many of the pointless social rules that went with it as she and my father raised their family (my brothers and I).

When I was growing up we *cussed* frequently and with some abandon in my family. We used God and Jesus’ name in vain often. There wasn’t any point in keeping them holy because no one in my immediate family believed in God. The summer that I was 10 I went to spend an extended period of time with my grandparents and my mother spoke to me before I left about my grandparents and their beliefs. She reminded me to keep my cussing down and to use other words if I needed them. Words such as “jeesum crow” and “gosh darn it.” I worked very hard at monitoring my language with my grandparents. But quite early on in the visit I was reading in bed one evening and my Grammy came up to kiss me goodnight. She sat on the edge of the bed and spoke earnestly with me about how she knew how hard I was working to make her and Grampy happy. And she knew it was difficult. But it was also disturbing to them that I used these new words too, because, well, they knew what those words STOOD for! At ten I was mystified. What on earth was I supposed to do?

But here’s the thing. I still remember that scene 36 years later as clear as a bell. I’ve heard countless discussions on why people need to keep their speech pure. Why what comes out of a person’s mouth makes them look good or bad. Blah blah blah. But what sticks with me and makes me think year in and year out … is my grandmother’s loving countenance, speaking to me gently with love. It was her loving criticism and critique that continues to this day to make me think about how I want to present myself to the world. It doesn’t always change what I say or how I say it, but it continues to make me think.

Now I italicized some bits and pieces of 1 Corinthians 13 above because they stand out to me and bits and pieces that are pertinent to how a person might be in relationship with another person in order to critique and criticize someone else. But I wonder if perhaps the time for criticizing and critiquing others is when we are in community with them. From this point on … that includes me.

To end with a prayer by an Irish bard of this era:

Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, Yahweh
Still I’m waiting for the dawn

Take this mouth
So quick to criticise
Take this mouth
Give it a kiss

The Powers That Be
Sep 26th, 2007 by Sonja

I almost never do this.  In fact, I can’t think of a single time that I have done this.  But I’m doing it now.

I’m going to ask all of you, my blogger friends, to pray.  Please pray and pray hard (whatever that means), in whatever faith you know, for some friends of mine.

I cannot give you many details.  But here is what I can tell you.

This involves my friend TexasBlueBelle and her husband, BlueMan.  Many years ago, in land not so far from here but in another life, BlueMan made some mistakes.  He made a bad choice.  In his own words, “God got a hold of him not long after, and he repented of that mistake.”  He turned himself in to the authorities.  He even spent some time in prison.  He spent a longer time on parole.  He spent even more time in counseling to ensure that he would never make that mistake again.

Now I did not know TexasBlueBelle or BlueMan when he made the bad choice.  I met them afterwards, when he was on parole.  I know that he will never make the bad choice again.  I know that for many, many reasons which I cannot go into here.  But suffice it to say that I know and trust both of them with my life.

His parole ended a few years ago and now he is free to move about the country.  So things being what they are, TexasBlueBelle, BlueMan and their children picked up and moved about a month ago.  Not too far from here, but to another state.  They moved to the house of their dreams.  Heck … it’s the house of my dreams.  It’s a beautiful little house, with a gorgeous backyard … and a jacuzzi tub.  They have wonderful neighbors, one on each side.

It’s the rest of the neighbors in the cul de sac who I must ask you pray for.  They are making life exceedingly miserable for my friends and their family and now even their neighbors.  They have found out about BlueMan’s bad choice.  They have made ugly assumptions about him based on his past.  They are posting “No Trespassing” signs in their yards.  They are attempting to swear out restraining orders against him when he’s never said a word to them (they will find out when they get to the courthouse that he actually has to do something to get a restraining order … but that is beside the point).  The  powers and principalities have overtaken the cul de sac that my friends live on.  Please pray for my friends.  Pray that they will be able to live in peace there in the house of their dreams, with the gorgeous backyard … and jacuzzi tub.  That they will be able to raise their children there and live a quiet life of peace.

A group of us are gathering in their home on Sunday afternoon to pray as well at 2 p.m. eastern time.  If you feel lead to join your heart with us at that time, we’d appreciate it.

Heathens and Pagans and Witches … oh my! (September Synchroblog)
Sep 25th, 2007 by Sonja

Fear of Hell

In the movie, the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy has quite a bit to overcome. She is dropped into a strange land, with even stranger occupants and given a truly weird mission. She must find her way, alone at first and then with a couple of really oddball traveling companions: The Scarecrow and the Tin Man. As darkness begins to fall, the forest through which they are walking begins to loom more and more frightening:

They enter a thick forest which immediately spooks and frightens Dorothy: “I don’t like this forest. It’s dark and creepy…Do you suppose we’ll meet any wild animals?” Worried that they will be attacked, the Tin Woodsman predicts the dark forest will be filled mostly with “lions and tigers and bears.”

Dorothy: Lions?
Scarecrow: And tigers?
Tin Man: And bears!
Dorothy: Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

As they march along the twisting road, fearfully repeating the phrase and rapidly gaining speed, a ferocious-looking Cowardly Lion (Bert Lahr) with a matted mane and two tiny ears bounds into their path with a strange roar: “Rrowrrrr!” Both the Tin Man and the Scarecrow back away and are cowering on the ground. Then, the lion stands on two feet and challenges them with his two paws, bravado and elongated words:

Lion: Put ’em up, put ’em uuuuuup! Which one of you first? I’ll fight ya both together if you want. I’ll fight ya with one paw tied behind my back. I’ll fight ya standin’ on one foot. I’ll fight ya with my eyes closed. (To the Tin Woodsman) Oh, pulling an axe on me, hey? (To the Scarecrow) Sneakin’ up on me, hey? Why, gnong-gnong!
Tin Man: Here, here. Go away and let us alone!
Lion: Oh, scared, huh? Afraid, huh? (To the Tin Woodsman) How long can you stay fresh in that can? Ha-ha-ha-ha. Come on, get up and fight, ya shivering junkyard. (To the Scarecrow) Put your hands up, ya lopsided bag of hay.
Scarecrow: Now that’s getting personal, Lion!
Tin Man: Yes, get up and teach him a lesson.
Scarecrow: What’s wrong with you teachin’ him?
Tin Man: W-w-w-ell, I hardly know ‘im.

From filmsite.org review by Tim Dirks

It’s a familiar scene to those of us who have seen the movie many times. In actuality, because the movie is a classic the scene has been translated into many other movies across the years and we have seen it again and again with different characters and different backdrops, but a similar lead-in and outcome.

It was a dark and scary night. The hero or heroine could not get their mind off of what was scaring them. So they kept repeating the scary thing over and over to themselves. This makes the scary thing bigger and bigger and bigger. Until what might have been conquered has now become a monster of mythic proportions. There is no getting past this hulking beast.

So what does that have to do with pagans and heathens? Quite a bit I think.

You see, I have this theory. My theory goes like this. People are people. We’re all pretty much alike. We have similar dreams for our lives and our loved ones and our children. We have similar struggles. We overcome similar hurdles.

I first encountered this theory when I was quite young. I read a biography of the Federal Era portrait painter, Gilbert Stuart. He is best known for painting George Washington. I don’t remember very much about the the book except for this. He was once staying in a hotel with an older man. He was nervous about something that was coming up. The older man gave him the advice that he could allay some of his fears by remembering that, “all men put their pants on one leg at at time.” Along with Gilbert, it took me awhile to puzzle that one out. But it has served me well all my life.

All men (and women) put their pants on one leg at a time. We all eat breakfast. We all, at our core, are more similar than we are different. Parents want their children to grow up healthy and happy, fall in love and do well in their chosen field. No parent dreams of their child growing up to become homeless or unhappy when they first hold that tiny baby in their arms. We all want good things for our children, for our schools, our communities, our country.

Yet what I have seen happening in our churches is like the scene from the Wizard of Oz. As we have progressed from modernism to post-modernism in the past 50 years, the church has responded in fear; chanting the things it fears over and over and over again. The people who go to the churches have thus created monsters out of their neighbors. The very people who they are to love as themselves, they grow to fear and hate because the chant every Sunday is …

Heathens …

Pagans …

Witches …

oh my!

Keep your children safe. Bring them here. Do not associate with those evil doers.

But Jesus commanded us to love our neighbors as ourselves. But if we have locked ourselves away in our churches and made our neighbors into monsters, how can we do that? How can we begin to understand who they are? The things they love, what makes them tick if we don’t begin to know them.

They are NOT heathens and pagans and witches, oh my! They are people … they put their pants on one leg at a time.

***********************************************

Here are the most excellent thoughts of the rest of the Syncrobloggers this month:

Matthew Stone at Journeys in Between
Christianity, Paganism, and Literature at Notes from the Underground
John Smulo at JohnSmulo.com
Sam Norton at Elizaphanian
Erin Word at Decompressing Faith
Chasing the Wild Goose at Eternal Echoes
Visigoths Ahoy! at Mike’s Musings
Belief and Being: The difficulty of communicating faith at Phil Wyman’s Square No More
Steve Hollinghurst at On Earth as in Heaven
Undefined Desire at Igneous Quill
A Walk on the Wild Side at Out of the Cocoon
Observations on Magic in Western Religion at My Contemplations
Tim Abbott at Tim Abbott
Spirituality and the Zodiac: Stories in the Cosmos at Be the Revolution
Rejection, Redemption, and Roots at One Hand Clapping

Painting Update
Sep 25th, 2007 by Sonja

We have passed reasonable …

We are into silly.

Yesterday we put coat number FIVE of red onto the livingroom walls. It needs at least one and maybe two more.

I made the discovery through talking to another hockey mom that there is a special primer for dark colors. After four coats of red had been laid down. She also told me that friend of hers had painted a room red once.

It took EIGHT coats of paint.

Sigh.

This is why it is better to purchase paint at paint stores rather than large conglomerate, chain, hardware stores. The employee at a paint store might have informed me that such a primer existed and would be preferable for using underneath a strong color … such as red.

Sigh.

In other news, we got a phone call yesterday and were happily informed that our new bed is coming.

Two weeks early. Now I need to finish painting the livingroom so I can paint our bedroom before the new bed arrives. Here’s the new bed … it’s quite beautiful. We bought our first bedstead used, when we were first married. This is our 20th anniversary gift to each other. We’ve been looking at it with longing eyes for three years now.

Bed

What A Weekend!
Sep 24th, 2007 by Sonja

I’m exhausted! Up at 5:30 both mornings. Out the door by 7 to go to the first hockey games of the season. LightHusband was out the door even earlier with LightBoy to his practices. The first game was at our home rink on Saturday. The second game was an hour and a half away in Maryland on Sunday. LightGirl scored her first goal on Sunday. Here is the celebration:

Celebrate!

As you might imagine, this proud mama whooped it up in the stands for a solid minute. She played a good game yesterday. Strong and focused. All the girls did. They showed up with their heads in the game. It is so amazing to watch these girls play this game and do a good job. I love it. I love watching them be strong, think hard, and overcome places where they were weak previously. I love watching them grow. It makes the early morning sacrifices pale in comparison.

Up for conversation between LightGirl and I during our journey … “Mom, do you think that the girls program at our rink takes second place to the boys program?” Of course, she asked this question during the part of our journey where I had to pay attention to directions. But. I had to answer in the affirmative. Yes, honey it does take a back seat. But there are several reasons for that. First of all it’s a young program. It’s still building and growing. Second. Like it or not, hockey is still primarily a boys sport and girls aren’t as welcome as we’d like them to be. It’s changing, but it’s slow. We talked about how much she likes having Coach Wonderwoman (the only woman coach in our club) as her coach, and the only woman coach we face. We also talked about how Coach Wonderwoman *is* a woman in a man’s club and that makes it hard for her. That alot of people become uncomfortable when women take on roles that are perceived as “men’s” roles. She wanted to know why. I wish I could tell her.

I repeated the bones of this conversation to some of the moms I sit with in the stands. We are of an age together. We talked about the failure of feminism in this country. That we pay lip service to women being equal, but really we are not. There are few women leaders for any of us to look up to. The women that are out in front are set up to fail (Hilary Clinton and Condoleeza Rice being the two I can think of off the top of my head). They are also forced to play by the men’s rules and thus look harsh and ugly. Bitchy. We don’t like women leaders because they are not feminine. The manner in which women lead is entirely different from the manner in which men lead. However, women in leadership are not allowed to fully engage in that leadership style. They are forced to play by male rules in order to gain power. There is little parity.

I wonder how change will come about? What will it take? I hope it is the small things like playing hockey and learning to lead each other by their own standards rather than those of males are the things that will help bring the genders together. I don’t think we need to replace the male with the female … but that we need to enhance the male with the female. That it takes both to bring about good decisions and right leadership. Someday. Someday soon.

Update … I’m Climbing the Walls
Sep 22nd, 2007 by Sonja

So. Painting is indeed taking longer than I thought. It always does.

The green wall is finished. It is a lovely pale shade of celery. I held up one of the drapes next to it last night and felt very accomplished.

BlazingEwe and I just finished putting the first of (maybe) three coats of red on the remaining walls this afternoon.

More tests required more doctors visits this week. More in the future. These have slowed down the progress on the walls. And have made me crabby. Crabby enough that LightBoy passed me a note last night. It said, “Go fabric shopping tomorrow.”

Instead I called my friend and asked for help painting.

Tomorrow LightBoy has early hockey practice. LightGirl has an early game. The first game of the season. The same goes for Sunday. More painting in the afternoons and hopefully we will have finished up by the end of the weekend. I’ll post a photo of the progress tomorrow. It really is pretty. I’m just tired. And, have I mentioned? Crabby.

There also seems to be a dead carcass stinking up our backyard. This also makes me crabby. I do not like smelly backyards. I do not like smelly dead carcasses. It is one of the reasons I live in the suburbs. Really. It is. I endured enough of those as a youngster on the farm. Yuck. Eweth. It must go.

I’ve joined the BlogRush rush. It’s the thing to do. Since everyone is doing it and I have to keep up with the Jones’ I decided I would. So that little widget thingy is there on my sidebar now. May everyone’s traffic increase.

UPDATE:

Pictures of the livingroom as of yesterday evening … more layers of red to happen today.

Livingroom with red 1

Livingroom with red 2

You can see the new drapes in this one … they look really good with the paint.  I’m looking forward to putting it all together.

OMG!!!!
Sep 19th, 2007 by Sonja

This pissed me off so much I almost cried!

That was the e-mail I received from LightGirl just now.

So … um … what the hell is going on in our country? Just why did that young man get arrested and tasered for asking a question? There was nothing wrong with the question he asked. If he was over time … big deal. The police were way out of line. Way. If they needed to arrest him, they needed to … um … charge him with something. Anything. That’s the way it works in this country. That’s why we have a …

… remember this?

Bill.

of.

Rights.

Supposedly that’s why we’re fighting two wars right now. At least that’s what we’re told. Truth. Justice. And the American Way. But only if we don’t want to use those rights.

THE CLASH LYRICS

“Know Your Rights”

This is a public service announcement
With guitar
Know your rights all three of them

Number 1
You have the right not to be killed
Murder is a CRIME!
Unless it was done by a
Policeman or aristocrat
Know your rights

And Number 2
You have the right to food money
Providing of course you
Don’t mind a little
Investigation, humiliation
And if you cross your fingers
Rehabilitation

Know your rights
These are your rights
Wang

Know these rights

Number 3
You have the right to free
Speech as long as you’re not
Dumb enough to actually try it.

Know your rights
These are your rights
All three of ’em
It has been suggested
In some quarters that this is not enough!
Well…………………………

Get off the streets
Get off the streets
Run
You don’t have a home to go to
Smush

Finally then I will read you your rights

You have the right to remain silent
You are warned that anything you say
Can and will be taken down
And used as evidence against you

Listen to this
Run

Now I must return to painting …

FSBO
Sep 18th, 2007 by Sonja

Oh … bother, as Winnie the Pooh might say.

I’m at the part of the project where I’m bored.  I’m just bored.  There is nothing more boring than white primer and white ceiling paint and cutting it all in in excruciating detail.  Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

And the children are crabby.  I’m offering them to the highest bidder.  They are sitting in the next room crabbing at one another and calling each other the.

most.

vile names.

When they are not whining and crabbing at me.  They are supposed to be doing their school work.  One of them will not be allowed to go to her beloved hockey practice this evening if she does make substantial headway on her missed schoolwork from yesterday (she was illin’).  The other one has proclaimed that he is now “hall monitor.”  I’m not certain what he is monitoring.  Perhaps the flies which have taken over the house.  In any case, if you’d like them … come and get them.  They are making me crazy … and since I’m already bored, this is not a good combination.

Here’s what the livingroom looked like this morning … and it won’t look much different tomorrow.  White.  Blech.  I want to lay down the color.  I am impatient and stiff-necked.  Like an Israelite.

Primed and white

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