pebble chaser

2008-01-17T23:41:00.000-08:00

Viva La Change!

2007-12-23T21:22:00.000-08:00

I'm moving. Got me some new digs over at Wordpress... www.pebblechaser.wordpress.com etc, etc.

So, if you want to catch the latest and sort of greatest, meet me over there. Besides, the templates are nicer and all the popular kids are doing it.

And I'm so popular!

Lower than algae

2007-12-21T20:26:00.000-08:00

or men who hit women.

Roxi, Dina, I'm sorry. I just needed a place to vent.

The platitudes have been said, the encouraging words have been spoken. The shaking, cold vitriol beneath the surface has risen to the top and I simply must speak.

I knew it the first moment I laid eyes on him. I knew. Don't ask me how. I cried like a baby on their wedding day. I've prayed, with despair, ever since. When I got the "urgent prayer request" email I knew and dammit, I didn't want to know. I wanted to be wrong. I wanted to have been cynical, suspicious and just plain nasty wrong. You have no idea how desperately I wanted to be proven wrong. I would have begged forgiveness in front of the entire family and worn denim jumpers and white sneakers for the rest of my life. I would have given up candy, diet Pepsi and lipstick.

But I was right and am now so angry I can hardly type. I'm shaking.

The little 9mm and the 45 are whispering veiled and not so veiled threats from the cabinet where they hide away. If only... See, I'm a fighter, not a lover. Don't get me wrong. I love. But this victimization, this outrage against someone I love.

My oldest boy came in to my office a few minutes ago. "Momma, what's going on?" "It's not something you need to think about, baby," I replied. "Just know, that when you are a man, if you ever beat a woman, I will personally make sure you go to jail. Even though you are my son." He blinked and said, "Ok, Mom."

There is no justifiable excuse for a muscular 6'5" man to EVER strike his wife and as far as I'm concerned she has every right to walk away from him forever.

This is a standing agreement between my husband and myself. If he hits me, he will never see me or his children again. Ever. Since we are a household committed to fairplay, the reverse is also true. There are boundaries that love simply does not cross.

Wife-beaters are lower than algae and among the most despicable of men. I had little respect for the man 3 months ago. Now I despise him.

Still, she loves him and for that and the hope of redemption I will pray for both.

Even though, at the moment, I am nauseated and violently angry.

This girl, his wife? My niece, my beautiful niece. I was there that day. That day when she was 2, when she came to live with my sister and was terrified of everyone. She'd been in seven fosterhomes in twenty-four months, her mother in jail and G_d only knows what happened to her on the reservation. What an amazing woman she has become. Unfortunately, she wasn't prepared for this reality and at 19 she is in a place where she's making decisions I wouldn't wish on my enemies.

Now would not be a good time for anyone to cross me. I'm too furious to care.

Is this SO terrible?

2007-12-21T09:55:00.001-08:00

Apparently, it's got the bleeding hearts for the mentally infirm with their panties in a WAD!

I thought it was hilarious!

What is the Law?

2007-12-20T13:02:00.000-08:00

Depends on who is asking, doesn't it. To a criminal, the law is a set of rules meant to be broken and by which rebellion is defined. To a decent citizen, the law is a safety net. The law is boundaries which protect and prohibit, preserve and allow for a civilized society.

One wouldn't question the legitimacy of a legal mandate which determines that murder is wrong and punishable. We don't find ourselves rebelling against a law which allows behavior that we, as flawed as we are, are prone to prohibit. Think freedom of speech and the right to bear arms.
There are many good laws out there. I want to know where sex offenders live. Don't you?

So, can you please explain to me why good, honest and sincere believers in the One True G-d take the Law HE set out and call it all kinds of terrible things which simply don't apply?

He tells us to rest on a certain day, as He did. He commands us to honor our parents, respect our spouses by not having an affair and to be content with what we have been given. You know, the whole "thou shalt not covet" idea? He insists that we recognize He is One and He is The LORD Our G-d. How restrictive.

Then in the following verses, chapters and books, He takes the initiative and Moses takes the time to write it down so we wouldn't forget the how of it all. What does it look like to honor your G-d? Well, He tells us. In His perfect scenario there was a Tabernacle and later a Temple and He gave clear instructions on what He wanted worship of Himself to look like. Not so we would be burdened, but so we would be able to draw near. There is no longer an earthly Temple and the Levitical priesthood is represented by Yeshua, our High Priest and King. That means that all those lovely means to approach G-d cannot be fulfilled, at present. Instead, we can come before our High Priest and He will stand in our place. He has stood in our place. He is standing in our place. Just as Zechariah & Aaron did.

Yeshua is ministering in exactly the manner G-d required those several thousand years ago. No less than, but fulfilling more beautifully than we can even comprehend what the Torah offered from the beginning. A pathway to G-d. Reconciliation of fallen creation to Perfect Creator.

Do we live by Grace? Every breath since the dawn of time. What are we doing with our Grace?

Even temporally, not addressing Eternity at the moment, in a democratic society, there are responsibilities the citizens must soberly uphold in order for the society to work. We are not anarchists, we are not "free" to do all we please. We are only free when we can responsibly live within the boundaries of our own prescribed order and structure of society. We must cooperate and sometimes submit our desires for the furtherance of a common good. Sometimes we choose to submit to laws which are somewhat inscrutable.

How much more as believers, followers of G-d, imbued with a supernatural strength to endure and discern, are we responsible to live according to His guidelines and not the ones made up by our diocese, caucus, bi-laws or committee?

We are working so hard to reinvent what it means to "love your neighbor" according to our own paradigm. We are arrogantly demanding that anyone who doesn't see it our way is a fool, of questionable spirituality and lacking in maturity.

It is sad to me when so often I hear cold disdain for the Torah. Something which David, the Psalmist "loved" and "meditated on day and night." Can you love something when you are convinced it merely exists as a tool to show you how flawed, imperfect and impotent you are? Can you love something that shows you a better way? That draws for you the very heart of G-d and how much He is concerned about the poor and the weak.

When was the last time you read Leviticus? Not as a means to prove your point, but as a way to see how intimately involved G-d desires to be in the hearts, lives and manner of worship of His people. Then and now.

Where was the grace when Cain attempted to honor G-d in a manner which, apparently, wasn't acceptable? That was pre-Torah. Shouldn't G-d have just "seen his heart"? Perhaps, it is because G-d did see his heart and saw someone who was defiantly attempting to meet G-d on his own terms and not on G-d's.

It is obvious that G-d cares how we approach Him. How we maintain our relationship with Him and what hope we have for our future with Him.

We have access to a place where He spoke, to men, and said, "Come to me like this." In the five books of Torah, Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers & Deuteronomy we see a word picture of a perfect and loving Creator. Who came to earth, as a man, and lived it perfectly. A Man who loved the Torah and looked into it, taught from it and lived according to it's precepts.

Now, don't think I'm telling you to go out and by a tallit (prayer shawl) and wear a funny beanie. Those are external accoutrement which have become symbolic. I'm just encouraging you to read the Torah, read the Word from this perspective. This is a letter from your G-d, to you, faithfully transcribed for thousands of years. This is a beginning of wisdom. To ponder His heart, His faith, His concepts for worship and study.

If you can read His Torah in this manner, you will never again see bondage.

I surely can't.

Enough with the quizzes already!

2007-12-19T10:55:00.003-08:00

Sometimes, that is just about all the mental acuity I possess. So there!

Your hidden talent is writing

Your hidden talent is writing. You have a unique way of viewing the world and are able to express your thoughts eloquently on the page. Some people might think that you are weird, but you are just the next Pulitzer prize winner.

Shhh..... It'll be our little secret.

How You Gonna Die?

2007-12-18T18:34:00.001-08:00

You'll die of a Heart Attack.

You will die of a heart attack really late in life, after you've lived to your fullest.

'How will you die?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Hm... I really liked some of the other ideas.

Ripped it off MikeT's place

Snowballs in Hell

2007-12-17T11:13:00.000-08:00

OR when pigs fly.

We, our illustrious little family, sell on the conglomerate vampiric machine that is eBay. We are the little guy who is frequently poned by that other parasitic creation, Paypal.

But today! Yes, the glory that is today. Today the little guy won!

Paypal did NOT send over $100 to the bidder with no brain who failed in reading comprehension, basic decency and uncommon good sense. Today, Paypal voted in our favor.

So! Today, apparently, there are snowballs in hell.

Real SPAM

2007-12-14T15:59:00.000-08:00

Well, apparently there is a real need for male enhancement. After all the "warrior of love might lose the battle" you know. And everyone is eagerly looking for the best deal on Viag*a, See Alice and other stuff.

Just when I thought I'd seen it all, I got this one.

Header: Are we Justified by Faith (Rom.) or by Works (James)?
Body: "How were the Old Testament saints saved? Meds

Now, I recently was looking for an outline for a study of the book of Romans and apparently, that information was mined from Google.

But, dude, seriously. How funny is that!

To find salvation in meds.

Hmmm. Maybe it's not quite as funny as I originally thought.

Fighting Words

2007-12-13T20:49:00.000-08:00

The other day G-d and I had words. Well, I had words and amidst all the shouting I'm sure He couldn't get a word in edgewise.

Life doesn't always go according to plan and there are moments when it all piles up to the point where only some really strong language and loud voices can express the incomprehensible nature of it all.

Do I think G-d was offended? Is it blasphemous to speak this way to the Almighty? Does this mean I don't honor and respect Him?

No. No. No.

I know G-d can handle the raw anger thrown His way a whole helluva a lot better than, say, my husband or my children. He never interrupts or brings up that one time in Mexicali when... or how His mother was so much more perfect than I could ever be.

He let me yell until I was done and then He whispered. His whisper rolled across my bitter little heart and slivers and sharp edges, thorns and barriers melted away.

Grace is like that.

No, the circumstances haven't changed and yes, I'm still pissed because life is just plain unfair.

As I sat in the weak light of a slivered moon and my voice finally died away to nothing, He whispered to me. He told me the darkness is just as much a beginning as the dawn and He told me I needed to hold on tight. He assured me He's not going anywhere.

I'm fighting mad. And broken and weak. My life didn't dramatically change. No knight in shining armor came to save the day.

See, apparently those words weren't about getting my way but about getting real with G-d. Down to the gooey center. Down to the ugly bits.

Was G-d ok with that?

When I was finally quiet, He showed me the stars.

I think we'll be ok.

For Pablo & Wonder Woman

2007-12-12T20:45:00.000-08:00

FROM THE MANITOBA TIMES

The flood of American liberals sneaking
across the border into Canada has intensified in the past
week, sparking calls for increased patrols to stop the illegal immigration. The actions of President Bush are prompting the exodus among left-leaning citizens who fear they'll soon be required to hunt, pray, and agree with Bill O'Reilly.

Canadian border farmers say it's not uncommon to see dozens of sociology professors, animal-rights activists and Unitarians crossing their fields at night.

'I went out to milk the cows the other day, and there was a
Hollywood producer huddled in the barn,' said Manitoba farmer Red Greenfield, whose acreage borders North Dakota . The producer was cold, exhausted and hungry. He asked me if I could spare a latte and some free-range chicken.' When I said I didn't have any, he left.

Didn't even get chance to show him my screenplay, eh?' In an effort to stop the illegal aliens, Greenfield erected higher fences, but the liberals scaled them. So he tried installing speakers that blare Rush Limbaugh across the fields. 'Not real effective,' he said. 'The liberals still got through, and Rush annoyed the cows so much they wouldn't give milk.'

Officials are particularly concerned about smugglers who meet
liberals near the Canadian border, pack them into Volvo station wagons, drive them across the border and leave them to fend for themselves. 'A lot of these people are not prepared for rugged conditions,' Ontario border patrolman said. 'I found one carload without a drop of drinking water.They did have a nice little
Napa Valley cabernet, though.' When liberals are caught, they're sent back across the border, often wailing loudly that they fear retribution from conservatives.

Rumors have been circulating about the Bush administration establishing re-education camps in which liberals will be forced to drink domestic beer and watch NASCAR races.

In recent days, liberals have turned to sometimes-ingenious ways of crossing the border. Some have taken to posing as senior citizens on bus trips to buy cheap Canadian prescription drugs. After catching a half-dozen young vegans disguised in powdered wigs, Canadian immigration authorities began stopping buses and quizzing the supposed senior-citizen passengers on Perry Como and Rosemary Clooney hits to prove they were alive in the '50s. 'If they can't identify the accordion player on The Lawrence Welk Show, we get suspicious about their age,' an
official said.

Canadian citizens have complained that the illegal immigrants are creating an organic-broccoli shortage and renting all the good Susan Sarandon movies. 'I feel sorry for American liberals, but the Canadian economy just can't support them,' Ottawa resident said. 'How many art-history majors & lawyers does one country need?'

Forgive me reader,

2007-12-11T12:56:00.000-08:00

For I've been busy...

It's been 9 days since my last post.

I'll be back.

Eventually!

Ralphie

2007-12-02T12:51:00.001-08:00

I never met Ralph. He was 5 when he died and yet his life has impacted so many. Particularly at this time of the year.

His parents when Christmas shopping that one day in December. It was the late 40's and Jimmy, Eva & L.A. were babysitting while they were gone. Jimmy was only 9 and thought he would impress his neighbor friend by showing off his daddy's gun.

The neighbor kid got excited, the gun went off and Ralphie died on his mommy's pillow. Jimmy, Eva and L.A. were left, all less than 12, to find out how to contact their parents, what do you do with a little one who doesn't have a head anymore and what to expect when daddy comes home. See, daddy "spanks" with chains. Yes, chains. There were no phones in their 3 room house and they lived out in the country. The neighbor boy ran home and that's the last I ever heard of him. Although he most definitely lived with that moment for the rest of his life. Where ever he may be.

The parents came home, the baby boy was buried and the pastor came to visit the grieving family. I use the term pastor loosely because the ill-intent and cruelty this man exhibited is beyond anything I can imagine.

He sat in their house and said their little blond boy died because they were Christmas shopping. He said Ralphie's death was G-d's judgment for their sin.

Now, in my opinion, that should have been when Daddy jumped up and kicked the shit out of Brother so and so, but well, he didn't. They didn't. They bought the lie and enforced it on all six of their remaining children. There would be no Christmas. No presents, no candy, no lights, no tree. Nothing. Christmas was evil. We would pretend it wasn't happening.

Five years ago Jimmy, Eva, Paul and Everett sat down by their mother's bedside and exchanged gifts for the first time in almost 60 years. Did it bring healing? Was it the moment they were all waiting for? Probably not. Their children grew up never celebrating the Christmas season with extended family and didn't get or expect gifts from the grandparents. Simply wasn't done.

How long does a mother hold on to grief? When Ralphie's mommy died this last September, Paul's wife found baby booties and a cap wrapped in tissue paper a nd tucked carefully away in the bottom of her dresser. It somehow didn't seem right to bury her without those small momentos she'd carried all those years.

That's when Eva found where Ralphie was buried and for the first time in over 60 years, sat at his little marker and thought about the little boy who wasn't ever growing older.

Christmas. It's a mish-mash of emotions for so many. A time of gimme and grabbing, of celebrating and too much champagne. A time of sharing and family. For many.

But for many, my family included, it has often been a time of shame and despair. A time where you struggle simply to go through the motions without ever having the hope of the elaborate celebrations we saw all around us.

We didn't spend lavishly on gifts. One singular year I got hairspray and a toothbrush. There wasn't a lot of money to go around. $5 max on gifts. The trees were leftover from after school broke for the holidays. And once we even decorated a gigantic sage brush. Have you ever seen a 8' flocked sage brush with Christmas lights on it? Yeah. Amazing.

Eva, my mom, never seemed quite comfortable with the whole Christmas thing and was especially anti-Santa. You do know Satan and Santa have the same letters, right? Perhaps she thought if we could just get it right G-d wouldn't be mad at us. Perhaps she was trying to regain something she'd lost so long ago.

When my boys were born we had the opportunity to make our own traditions. I still couldn't make Christmas be the Big Deal it seemed like it was supposed to be. Residual guilt from Grandma?

Perhaps that's why it has been such a relatively pain free decision to observe Hanukkah and let Christmas go. Don't get me wrong, we still remember the birth of our Messiah. We remember His advent around October during the Feast of Tabernacles. But now, when we celebrate the Feast of Dedication and as we give gifts and have family time, there is no taint of Christmas' past.

It's difficult to lay Ralphie to rest. But it is vital to see his death for what it truly was. A tragic accident. A horrible, incalculable loss. An unforgettable event for so many who have had to pay year after year. Over and over again.

We have all paid. All 100+ of us within the close family tree. And you will continue to pay until you learn to choose not to but to try to comprehend. We can't ever understand on this plane. But when we can comprehend what truly happened, then we can, soberly, move on.

What is Hanukkah anyway?

2007-12-01T20:03:00.001-08:00

And why should anyone care about some old Jewish tradition from a few thousand years ago?

Well, the pastors of our congregation Beit Brit, House of Covenant, did an excellent job sharing the history, historical relevance and modern day application of this Feast of Dedication. I thought I might share it with you. If you have speakers on your computer and about 1 to 1 1/2 hours you might just enjoy what Adam & John have to say. And if you listen carefully you'll hear my dulcet tones making perceptive, discerning, insightful and sometimes ridiculous comments.

12-1-07 Hanukkah

Enjoy!

PS. If the link doesn't work, go to House of Covenant and follow the Messages link in the side bar. The Hanukkah message is the most recent message at the top of the page.

A Lovely Salad

2007-11-30T20:33:00.000-08:00

I don't usually share recipes. Not because I hoard them but because I rarely measure and forget what I put in stuff.

But! Just so you can share this gastronomical moment with me? I offer

PBPG Salad

Diced Pears
Pomegranate seeds
Dried Blueberries
Crumbled Gorgonzola
Candied Walnuts
Chopped Romaine

Dressing:

2 parts rice wine vinegar & raspberry vinager
1 part canola oil
Just enough sugar to sweeten, could also use maple syrup if you want to.
Dash or two of salt.
Dash white pepper

Put in jar and shake it up around the kitchen.

Toss salad.

Enjoy with a lovely Syrah and multigrain bread

Ahhh! That was nice.

Reeeeaaallly!

2007-11-29T19:30:00.000-08:00

Check out what I held today...

I have a really cool job. I have impressed my husband and my sons. This is not exceptionally hard to do, but I believe I also impressed my boss as I carefully examined the legs, wings and body of a stunned and loopy young owl. No, the thought of CPR didn't cross my mind. He'll hopefully be picked up by the bird of prey rehabilitator in our community. If he makes it through the night. He was surprisingly soft and obviously stunned. There was no external trauma so we just wait.

Seriously. How cool is that!!! Ya'll can call me Ace. Ventura that is.

Only without the bad hair, freaky clothes and skinny legs. I also have normal sized teeth.

Ok. Don't call me Ace Ventura.

Doolittle?

De ja vu`

2007-11-21T11:41:00.000-08:00

I have dreams. Most of them are really stupid and not worth mentioning. But every once in a great while I will have a dream so tangible I walk up disoriented because I am in my own bed and not where I thought I should be.

I really should start paying more attention to those dreams. They come true.

The first one I had was of a 2 year old chubby little blond haired boy in a daddy's t-shirt on the beach.

5 years later, my first son lived that little snippet of time in front of us in Ventura, California.

This bit of deja vu is just a routine part of my life. It usually works with me getting up and talking to my husband about the wild dream I just had. Then we forget it.

Until it comes to pass.

It used to freak me out badly but now I just consider I must be on track with what G-d wants for my life. They merely reinforce I am where I am supposed to be.

I can't tell you what my latest vivid dream was. Rather, I won't. Suffice it to say I didn't think much of it until Sunday afternoon when I was walking Teddy back to his stall. As we passed the gates to the arena, I looked over at this big red gelding in his green and purple blanket and was so stunned I almost had to stop.

I dreamed this moment 2 years ago. At that point it seemed so far from reality I had to laugh when I told my husband. Because, truly, why on earth would I be taking this beautiful horse, in a premier facility and putting him away! I couldn't imagine I would ever be in that environment. How silly.

Indeed.

Yet, on Sunday, as I paused for a moment with Teddy in the dim light of a closed down barn I was struck, chillingly, with the thought of how many of these dreams have come true. These moments in time.

I don't want the last one to come true. Please, G_d. Not this one. It could be 2 years, 5 years or more. I don't know. I know how old some of the people are and that's enough to send me spinning. Let's just say I've been doing some prioritizing and I'm not real interested in non-essentials.

I didn't ask for this perspective, this vision, these peeks into the future. Maybe this time it was just funky pizza...

I can hope.

Can't I?

Thanksgiving

2007-11-19T21:44:00.000-08:00

I do menus. Often several weeks in advance. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Every day. There are four people in my house for three meals, seven days a week. Two of them are "little people" who are never full and always asking "Mom, what's for ****?"

So, I do menus.

This is our Thanksgiving menu.

Appetizer:

Wild Salmon Pate on nine grain crackers, crudites and probably some kind of fruit. Pears lightly poached in Riesling and honey, if I'm feeling adventurous.

Dinner:

Turkey, glazed with orange juice, stuffed with apples and oranges. Basted compulsively until done perfectly.

Cornbread stuffing, green bean casserole, potato rolls, mashed potatoes, corn with herb butter, giblet gravy, and amaretto cranberry relish.

Served with a light and refreshing Gewurstraminer or sparkling cider.

Dessert:

Maple Pecan Pumpkin Cheesecake, Chocolate Bourbon Pecan Pie, maybe Apple Pie if I'm in the mood for it. French press organic shade grown espresso roast coffee with cream or mulled cider.

The only remotely "pre-made" item? The green bean casserole. Everything else is , as they say, "from scratch".

So, why do I tell you all this? Is it to brag? To boast of my culinary skill? Of course it isn't. I'd invite you all if you weren't all scary and stuff cuz you're on that there Internet. :)

You'll just have to understand I won't be around much until next week. First the cooking, then the feasting and then the repenting will just consume all my time!

I start cooking tonight and I will finish sometime around Thursday afternoon.

So, I'm off to make cranberry sauce.

And drink some vanilla cream liqueur. I think I need it after today.

Good Night

2007-11-16T21:57:00.000-08:00

Goodnight.
What a day this has been
What a day tomorrow
Shall be

Goodnight.
For all the moments
Have taken their toll
On me.

Mon frere, mes amis
Au revoir, Adieu
Aufweidersehn
Buona notte

Bonne nuit.
Goodnight.

G-d grant you peace as you rest.

The Reality

2007-11-15T11:41:00.001-08:00

I was only about 11. The holidays had come again. I stood along the wall and watched, always watching. Their smiles and laughter seemed a million miles away. Completely unattainable. Out of my reach. They were having such a great time. They sparkled with life and vivacity.

As I stood there a deeper realization began to dawn. I wasn't ever going to be a part of that. I wasn't invited. I wasn't welcome. I wasn't included. Hell, I wasn't even noticed.

Unless...

Unless I made myself integral to the process and valuable for the "event". Then I would be included. Well, not "me" necessarily. Not my thoughts, convictions or perspectives. Not my hopes and dreams. I could sacrifice being personally welcome if I could "work my way in".

At least I wouldn't be alone.

I learned early the value of being a commodity. Meeting the needs for everyone else was my ticket in. The knowledge and abilities about problem solving and organization I brought to the table were of far greater importance than any intrinsic value I might have simply because I was a member of the family, part of the church. Name the event. If I was willing to work twice as hard for half the result and be happy with it, I could move away from the wall and join the "party".

This makes me a great employee. I understand it's not "personal". I am paid to to a job according to the standards of my employer and to excel means doing what I'm told as perfectly as I am able.

This makes me extremely cynical about relationships. I understand the formula. I know my place. I call, make plans, serve well, entertain by tailoring an "event" to the personalities of the persons involved and I have become valuable. Well, not me really. See, I'd have to sit down long enough to talk and share my heart for me to show myself. Great food? I can do that. Hospitable environment? I can do that. Schmooze? Make you feel like a million bucks? Yep. Work hard to make your dream come true? Been there, done that.

I can watch a group of people and respond to them according to their obvious needs. Men and women have many obvious needs in common. Ask about life. Offer a sympathetic face. Compliment intelligence (when appropriate). Compliment spouses and children. Encourage their lives and reinforce their value and relevance to *name the situation/ environment/ circumstance.

1+1=2. Every time.

Be sincere. Don't flatter. If she's in sweats and her hair is up don't tell her she looks radiant. Rather, sympathize with how busy her life must be. If he's got a bright, crisp shirt on and his hairs combed? "My, aren't you all dashing today! Taking the wife out?"

Deflect. Deflect. Deflect. "How am I? G-d is good, isn't He? Don't you love...." Which leads to another conversation which will quickly revolve around the other person. And they will walk away feeling "heard" and "important" and "valued". Which causes them to develop/maintain a positive response to me. Without them knowing or even bothering to know a damn thing about me.

I've a couple of friends I can think of who are probably sick of hearing me talk about my life. I suppose it's because they are the only one's who will hear about my life from my perspective. They are the ones who have proven, through investment in me, that they actually don't give a rats ass about what I "do for them" and truly care about who I am. Whether I perform or not.

Even you, dear blog reader, would fade if I quit writing or posting. To engage you I must produce.

This is the legacy I live with. The legacy of the childhood victim who was never given the opportunity to develop her own personality but was traded as a cold-blooded "commodity". I am learning, as an adult, to stop and evaluate whether the person with whom I am interacting is actually interested in me or what I can provide for them.

I don't mind being consumable. I just don't offer much to be consumed to those who don't care. When I've spent all I can on them? The door closes.

That's when I find out if I'm right about them or not. It's tragic how often those who most loudly declare their undying affection and concern are the least likely to spend any of their own energy, resources or effort on the very thing they have shouted from the rooftops.

It's amazing how quickly the phone doesn't ring and how quietly those individuals fade away.

Unless I am willing to offer again a service which they find valuable and offer them the product for their consumption.

Cynical? Maybe.

Realist? Maybe.

Survivalist? I don't know how else to live.

Heidi's Quote of the Day

2007-11-14T11:34:00.000-08:00

Liberal:

It's not about personally having a conscience, it's about being the conscience for everyone else.
Or at least talking about it a lot.

Conservative:

It's about having a conscience, listening to it and doing something with it, even if no one else is. Especially if no one else is.

If only this actually meant something...

2007-11-14T09:54:00.000-08:00

Get a Cash Advance

Feeling as I do about the standardized and publically funded educational system in toto this is barely a compliment.

Got it from Doom

The Offense

2007-11-13T14:01:00.000-08:00

Office Max, Staples, Office Depot... They all hate me. I can tell every time I walk into those stores. I can barely handle the blatant disregard for my identity and their complete lack of respect for my ethnic heritage.

Weathermen, hell the Weather Channel hates me and looks down upon me. As though I can help not having a different quantity of melanin in my epidermis. I wish they were more sensitive to my needs and weren't so damn offensive all the time.

What's this about?

I can barely speak the words.

White out.

Just reading the words is blatantly obvious to everyone that this product is a slap in the face to any melanin challenged person who dares to avoid a tanning booth.

Can't you just feel the disregard? Thousands of years of repressed aggression from my epidermically enhanced and superior melanin producing brothers and sisters have finally culminated in an insidious attack upon my very DNA.

White out.

How can I possibly overcome this insult to my person-hood? This riding roughshod over the right to genetic identity I carry deeply embedded within the very core of my soul.

How could you not know that such a phrase would be offensive? Duh! There are white folks everywhere who are being mocked by office assistants and data entry professionals all over the world.

We are being told to "get out". That we can't be "in" we are "out".

These are my feelings on the subject. And because they are my feelings you can't say a thing about it.

Because then we'll have to talk about how unfair and prejudicial not to mention down right arrogant it would be for you to devalue the enormity of my emotional response.

Then you might be intolerant.

There, I said it. Intolerant. If you dare to question me or my beliefs, you are intolerant.

Intolerant. Intolerant. Intolerant.

I think I need to go lie down. The stress of this entire conversation has just exhausted me.

Prayer Request

2007-11-13T11:43:00.000-08:00

Please pray for Becky.

She's a young woman who attends our congregation. Last night she was hit by a car and is currently in the hospital. I don't know what the extent of her injuries are, but there has been bruising to the brain and blood loss.

Remember her mother, stepfather and her teenage autistic brother who, I'm sure, is going beserk right now.

Thanks.

Spun Sugar & Thunderstorms

2007-11-12T20:41:00.000-08:00

Have you ever felt this fragile in a world that seems

Another one of those darn quizzes

2007-11-09T20:33:00.000-08:00

Your Dominant Intelligence is Linguistic Intelligence

You are excellent with words and language. You explain yourself well.
An elegant speaker, you can converse well with anyone on the fly.
You are also good at remembering information and convicing someone of your point of view.
A master of creative phrasing and unique words, you enjoy expanding your vocabulary.

You would make a fantastic poet, journalist, writer, teacher, lawyer, politician, or translator.

What Kind of Intelligence Do You Have?

Marriage Advice

2007-11-09T12:58:00.000-08:00

Earl and Bubba are quietly sitting in a boat fishing, chewing and drinking beer when suddenly Bubba says, 'I think I'm gonna divorce my wife - she ain't spoke to me in over 2 months.'

Earl spits, sips his beer and says, 'Better think it over, women like that are hard to find.'

Marriage

2007-11-07T11:49:00.001-08:00

J was sleeping with the karate teacher and A wondered why he wasn't getting any. T was sleeping with R and their spouses wondered what the hell happened. D liked to find satisfaction on the internet and A got angry. A found a bunch of guys at work and D felt justified by the decision to fly solo with copious quantities of visual aids. A was lonely while R was sleeping with the FOSTER BOYS!

What the hell, folks! What the hell! These people are REAL. Folks I have considered friends and all, every last freakin' one of them professing believers. Several in full-time ministry.

At different points in their marriages they all really liked each other. They all have children and attended church regularly. Volunteered above and beyond. Not just benchwarmer Christians but the kind you ask to be deacons. Most of them. Until... TSHTF

You know what this tells me? Marriage is a system where you never "arrive" but always, every day, evaluate and work your ass off to make today better than yesterday. Both of you. No one gets a pass.

I'm tired of the whiny wives who look like shit most days and wonder why their husbands aren't interested in pursuing them. I am sick of the Flannel Nazi men who treat their wives like crap and then wonder why the Mrs. isn't interested in him.

But you know what I am sick of the most? All this psychobabble bitching about "my needs". Felt needs, unconscious needs, intimacy needs and emotional needs and then the "obvious" but not really needs.

Let's talk about needs. You need to breathe, eat some protein, consume a variety of minerals and vitamins and drink water. You don't really "need" clothes but polite society demands it. You need shelter of some kind to survive but you don't need that big house. You don't need three vehicles and you really don't need someone to wait on you hand and foot.

My s-i-l has a new friend. He sounds like a nice guy, I guess. He made my m-i-l's happy list because he "takes care of her" and "makes sure she's happy all the time". Gag.

My husband's job isn't to make me happy. It's really nice when it happens, but not necessary. He works to provide for me and there have been been plenty of times in the last 13 years when he's pissed me off so bad I can't see straight while working diligently to take make sure my needs were taken care of. It's his job to be the objective voice of reason when I can't see the vision for our life together. It's my job to be his objective voice of reason when he's stuck in that same spot.

We are each other's biggest fan and the quickest way to get me to write you completely off? Treat him badly.

Marriage isn't a magic pill that throws us into a state of perpetual bliss and sexual nirvana. Marriage is the hardest and most amazing work I've ever done. Marriage is two completely different and complex individuals with their own baggage coming together and blending. Sort of like the San Andreas fault hitting its sides together on some days but the end result is one life out of two lives.

So, here's to marriage when he's an ass and she's a bitch and you still kiss each other goodnight. Here's to marriage when you take turns staying up with the offspring who has puked for 2 days straight. Here's to those who have been married long enough to experience "empty nest" and actually still have date night. Here's to the wife who doesn't encourage the guy who flirts with her in line at the bank or offers to buy her a drink on "girls night out". She's trustworthy. Here's to the husband who can treat women with politeness but doesn't cross the line into familiarity. He's trustworthy. Here's to holding hands when nothing else works and keeping alive the hope that tomorrow may bring a solution today simply isn't offering.

And to the newbies who don't have a clue and think it's all about how great they feel and how happy he makes her?

Good luck with that!

Joke's over...

2007-11-06T16:59:00.000-08:00

An intimate question....

2007-11-05T12:20:00.000-08:00

Have you touched your wenis today?

How do you feel about it?

Luke doesn't like me and other random thoughts...

2007-11-04T12:41:00.001-08:00

He's 5 1/2 feet tall at the shoulder. I can't even see over his back at the lowest point and his belly resembles a caricature of a horse. He's spotted and Appaloosa and persnickety.

And he doesn't like me.

Yet.

He just doesn't know me well yet and since he's roughly the size of a small Clydesdale my heart palpitates a bit much when I ride him.

Nonetheless. We had a lovely ride this morning and the oldest boy, almost 10 was remarkable. Natural seat, light hands, relaxed legs and a calm, quiet demeanor. I see lots of horses in his future.

Then I hopped on my girl, Lucy, who is a quick, precocious Arab and we jumped. And jumped. And trotted in circles to collect ourselves and jumped some more. *Don't tell the Mr. I wasn't wearing my helmet, that'll be our little secret!* :)

Daylight savings time only works in my favor in the fall which means when something is only good 50% of the time it's time to revisit the entire concept.

The new job is going swimmingly. At least for me. I haven't heard anything negative, so we'll have to see. Lucy's going to stay put where I have her for awhile. There's negotiating to be done.

Busy. Busy. Busy. Congregation. School. Business. Marriage. Family. Work. And Jericho.

Yes, we have succumbed to the TV show that is Jericho. It's chilling. My only complaint is that it truly seems more than a little vanilla. Which I suppose it would have to be. Love the character development and the scenarios.

I'm in re-evaluation mode right now which does wonders for the state of my office and closet but tends to make the rest of my life look like it's in shambles.

Who knew doing the right thing could bring so many really harsh results?

I've been dreaming a lot lately. Mostly about failure and being disposable. This tends to wreak havoc on my psyche during the day. I hate it when I am in this slump. It's cyclical and hits me about once every 3-5 months. With varying levels of success.

Heard about a cabbit today. Was comforting to know it's an urban legend.

Well, I'm off to work, shower and head out for a "fellowship/leader" meeting/group/thing which will most likely suck my will to live.

Fortunately tomorrow night is date night so I'll get to hang out with the only person on the planet who is interesting to me 95% of the time. No one else ever even gets that close.

Unless they are offering chocolate or cocktails.

Breehy-hinny-hinny-hooey-ha*

2007-10-24T18:31:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow at 8:30 I will be going to the Horse Butte Equestrian Center and applying for a part-time position babysitting $10,000+ horses. My job description involves making sure they get fed, wrapped and appreciated. For my trouble I will be compensated some menial amount and receive free board for one very special little arab mare named Lucy.

I can't remember the last time I interviewed for anything! Yeah, I'm nervous. But the benefits? MILES and MILES of BLM trails, my friend Shane keeps Prince there and we could ride together. Lucy would be closer to me than where I currently keep her, I would have a babysitter close by and an indoor arena to ride in when the weather is atrocious.

That and snuffly velvet noses, big brown eyes and 3 hours, 3-4 times a week where I am free to wander around with magnificent horses.

I'm so nervous. Did I say that already?

*Mystery gift to the person who can correctly identify the reference in the title.
update:

UDPATE:

30+ applicants and I got the job. I start Monday and Lucy should be ensconced in her palatial pasture in a premier boarding facility beyond anything I could have ever imagined/afforded for her by the end of next month (if all goes well).

Spiritual Community

2007-10-24T11:45:00.000-07:00

Well, I was going to write on this myself, but Jason over at Truth Seeker already did and is having a great discussion. Because I don't want to be left out of the party and I had started a thought process I wanted to continue here, I will simply post my comment and see where it goes.

The "church" has had the misfortune of being tangibly led by flawed humanity. Sadly, we haven't traveled very far from the mentality of a Peter who wanted to build tabernacles to commemorate his "mountaintop experience" at the expense of glorifying the one, true G-d.

In our modern enlightenment we call them denominations and movements. Yet, more often than not they will be a group of disillusioned believers coming together to create a place of worship. These communities, when reduced to their lowest common denominator, are often nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction to a negative experience and not a reasoned and thoughtful response to real need or even, many times, to a true calling.

Those of us from legalistic backgrounds are drawn like moths to a flame toward the parts of the Body which present very few restrictions. Those burnt by the free love, "all emotion all the time" churches gravitate toward the "all knowledge all the time "believers and so on and so forth.
So many believers looking for the next "met need".

The question for me is not what is wrong with the church and how I should protect myself from the destruction which invariably follows a movement created by a man, for a man, about a man but rather how does following G-d look regardless of the environment in which I find myself?

Community is not about a person, a building or a movement.

Community is about commitment. Community is about self-denial and the willingness to be hurt by those you have allowed close enough to do so. Community is about staying to rebuild and not choosing to run away to nurse your wounds in private.

The beauty in community is found by surrounding ourselves with those who are not like-minded and nevertheless allowing ourselves to learn to love and work well with them in spite of and often because of our differences.

The blessing in community is being sharpened by those disagree with us and those who challenge our paradigm. A paradigm often disguising selfishness and self-righteousness.
The hope and growth of community is found when you and I see what's wrong with our fellowship, rise to the occasion and create, within our own body, the type of ministry which is missing. When we stop pointing fingers at how our fathers, forefathers and all of church history have failed us and realize we possess, within ourselves, the same culpability to make a monument to ourselves by creating a body in our own image, relevant to our own needs and perspective at the expense of the generations to come.

The future of community is when you and I are raised up from within, take our maturity, our knowledge and our strength and prove we can be sent out, with the blessing of our spiritual family, to spread the light as far as we can.

-- My Answer --

2007-10-23T16:59:00.000-07:00

The robot can do many things, but not everyone gets to see the person inside. The actions of the robot will reflect the will of driver and provide insight into the motivation behind the actions.

Unless one forgets there is a driver and only looks exclusively at the exterior and the behavior of the robot. Thereby completely missing the fact there is an inner consciousness at work which is directing behavior.

Question of the week:

2007-10-17T14:09:00.000-07:00

Can you separate who you are from what you do?

If so, how? If not, why?

Freedom

2007-10-14T23:39:00.000-07:00

Freedom to or freedom from… Which one are you interested in?

I have been having a conversation lately with some friends about the area of giving. Tithing to be specific. They are seeking to understand why and how and what and who and where and ultimately to honor G-d with their behavior.

Admirable. Truly.

After a recent conversation I began to look at the reasons I tend to question things. There are times I question situations and expectations because I hope by the questioning I may find some little loophole that excuses bad behavior. Sometimes I need justification for a deed that seems difficult to understand but is a compulsion, a drive. A Must Do. Sometimes I might need to defend an action others may not understand. Sometimes I just question because it is such an inherent part of my nature to understand I cannot rest until I have at least a little clarity.

So what does this have to do with freedom?

Well, two of my friends, Knightshadow and Truth Seeker, have been examining the Torah, Absolutes and Grace. They are questioning and looking for answers. In an environment where many spiritual/evangelical discussions on faith have been reduced to Freedom From, I thought it might be interesting to talk about the Freedom To.

Before I became a believer I was compelled to lie, cheat, steal and indulge all manner of filth in my life. I swore like sailor and engaged in behavior most unbecoming a young lady. I was spiritually dead and rotting, I was morally deficient to the extreme and I would fixate on death, evil and power.

I was not a happy camper. To put it mildly.

Occasionally I would have moments of clarity. Self-discipline would kick in and I would pull myself out of the dark for a few days, a week or two. Sometimes even a couple of months. I would walk the walk and talk the talk. I fooled myself into thinking I had overcome my demons only to fall back harder and darker every time.

Until G-d. Then I truly had a choice. Not only was I given spiritual and mental freedom for the first time in my life, I was given the strength to walk away and continue to walk away. Not to walk into some sort of Judeo-Christian nirvana of self-indulgent, unaccountable psuedo-spirituality, I was free to join with the Body of Christ and to grow in the grace and knowledge of a Messiah who truly saved me from death. Imminent death, I might add.

One of the first things I was to be taught as a baby believer was how G-d had a plan for me. Not one which I got to make up as I went along and not one which was contingent upon modern interpretation and intangible feeling but a plan which was both massive and intimate, ancient and completely relevant to my life today. He offered me Truth. In every word in His Book He offered life and pathways of godliness. He gave parameters for interaction with friends, family and the ungodly. He offers a Counselor and a Hope. He gives me the freedom to choose, freedom to live and freedom to obey.

And when I fail, which I do regularly, He offers Grace without compromising the absolute Holiness of His nature. He doesn’t change. I repent, ask forgiveness and walk forward with the intent of serving Him all that much more honestly and effectively. I want to be closer. I will do anything to be closer to Him. According to His desires. Not mine. Obedience is better than sacrifice but both are required. As David the Psalmist said, “I would not offer You that which costs me nothing.”

Which is where the strength comes in. He offers His divine strength to take steps that reach out from the finite to the infinite.

I was free from the law of sin and death and free to walk forward in the paths of righteousness. I don't want to walk within my own perception of what appears to be righteous or even to walk within the modern social or religious "acceptable behavior" paradigm. A shadow of righteousness which is really only a relativistic politically correct spirituality serving to make me feel good and with which we seek to prevent others from looking too closely at our personal lives.

Through His redemption and strength I am freed to walk within the loving and tender framework of a Creator who cannot have fellowship with darkness and patiently and fervently seeks to refine us. Why? To present Himself with a Bride. He shows throughout His Word how he wants a Bride both pure and spotless. Can you read Hosea without understanding He is looking for a Bride who adores and loves her Bridegroom beyond any personal ambition or selfish aspiration?

Are you looking for loopholes or opportunities to become refined? Are you questioning to find truth or testing to find license?

All things may be permissible… How hard are you looking for those things which are profitable?

Freedom to… Obey. Live. Hope. Dream. Follow. Seek. Sacrifice.

Not freedom from accountability, community and responsibility. What kind of Bride would we be if we brought such an attitude into a covenant relationship? What kind of relationship is built on absence of community, accountability and personal responsibility?

“He whom the Son sets free is free indeed.”

What are you doing with your freedom?

This is so not OK

2007-10-10T05:42:00.002-07:00

It's 5:42 A.FREAKING.M and I've been up and "vibrant" for two hours. yes, you read that right. Two unbelievable, wasted, ridiculous hours.

Vibrant. That's a joke. I convinced myself I would be better off "working" in our office than just laying there listening to my husband breathe.

Work... A solid hour of Spider solitaire, all the local Craigslist classifieds with a sneak peak at "missed connections" for giggles. All the local paper yard sale classifieds and a meander around a local hippie church's website.

Yeah, I'm so much more productive here that I would be counting sheep, llamas or the vast number of tossings & turnings in my bed.

Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

OH, and the other motivation to cast reason to the wind and wander about our house in the dark. I had at least 3 brilliant post ideas. One on Spiritual Community which was very exciting and has now faded into the Dickensonian porridge which is my brain. Yes, Dickensonian is a real world. At 5:47 AM I am completely and rabidly willing to defend almost anything.

The other two are conspicuously absent from my memory at the moment which leads me to believe they were probably not as amazing as they seemed at 3:47. AM.

Well, I'm off to actually do some of that work I thought of. Perhaps that will help redeem the time and give an excuse for the nap I will desperately need around 11:30.

UPDATE:

It's now 11:05AM... I have filed 5 months worth of invoices and bills, brought our business and personal accounts from August 12th to October 1, wiped a nauseating amount of dust from my desk, more conveniently situated the location of the USB mega-port thing-y, my IPAQ and the pencil sharpener. Then I reorganized the shelves next to my desk and I have created sub-category files for accounts which have required them for several months and finished a Hanukkah invitation and the graphic design on a brochure/booklet for our congregation.

I balanced our checking acounts. All three. Created shipping lists and problem solved a billing issue with FedEx. I discovered the location of the missing kitchen timer and cleaned my monitor with a q-tip and rubbing alcohol... Ok, that last line was a lie. It was Windex and a paper towel.

All without coffee.

Who says insomnia can't work for you?

I think I am going to go pass out now...

Today's Inspiring Thought

2007-10-08T17:55:00.000-07:00

Some people are like slinkys. Not really good for anything, but they bring a smile to your face when pushed down stairs.

A Good Friend

2007-10-06T20:48:00.000-07:00

A good friend is someone who has your back in a fight. Even if you aren't there. Especially if you aren't there.

A good friend kicks you in the ass when you give in to self-pity and fear.

They call you when there is a need. Theirs or yours.

A good friend promotes you to others and even tells you they did so you can hear how they see you.

A good friend will keep trying to get ahold of you for breakfast, coffee, lunch, whatever! even if life doesn't slow down.

A good friend doesn't get offended when you can't seem to make two busy worlds collide. Even after 3 months of trying.

I've been recently reminded of how incredibly precious it is to have a friend like this.

Thanks to all my good friends. You know who you are.

Mazel Tov

2007-10-06T17:24:00.000-07:00

Just got back from a wedding. And while the service was lovely, people were friendly and the food was wonderful I will have to say that my greatest compliment goes to.....

The bartender.

That was one hell of a margarita!

Or is that two hells? since I had two...

Hm... I'm going to go take a nap now.

L'chaim!

Introducing...

2007-10-03T13:39:00.000-07:00

...one of the rarest animals on the planet.

A fellow believer who is/was a conservative TV personality/journalist turned public servant. And he wholeheartedly loves his G-d.

Yes, he's all that and a bag of chips!

A genuine Truth Seeker and my dear friend, Jason.

Now everyone go over and say "hello!"

I was...

2007-10-03T10:42:00.001-07:00

A whirlwind of synapse and purpose
A storm of intention and desire
Unafraid

Could not be cowed
Would not be intimidated
Clear

Free to think,
Express and believe
Open

Now?

I've been tamed.

Sleeping with Betty

2007-09-30T00:34:00.000-07:00

The Mr. is gone. Until late tomorrow night and I'm refusing to sleep alone. So, I'll snuggle up to one of his sweatshirts, his pillow and my little 9mm, Betty. I'd take Scooby to bed too but he's busy hogging the bottom bunk and growling at noises outside the boys room window.

That's his job and taking Betty to bed is mine.

Not that I'll sleep. I don't when he's not home. Well, that's not entirely true. I succumb to exhaustion around 4am and wake up when the boys do around 7:30.

It's not a security thing, really. It's just we have spent so little time apart it's hard for me to settle without him. I don't think that's a bad thing.

In thirteen years we've spent ten nights apart? Maybe? The longest we've gone without communicating somehow, since we met, is 48 hours.

Last Monday we celebrated our thirteenth anniversary. It was quiet, uneventful and sweet. No big romantic dinner (although the ribeye was fantastic, Gwen). No extravagant gifts, no big fancy cards or chocolate. We didn't need it this year. We'll get away some time in November I think. That's the plan.

I was talking the other day about an individual in my life who flatters me ad nauseum and the Mr. was getting a bit jealous. He's rarely demonstrative that way and well, I enjoy it when I see him get possessive.

I looked over at him, sprawled on the couch in sweats, a sweatshirt and a baseball cap, unshaven and wearing his slippers and my heart skipped a few beats. Why?

On his worst days he is the most extraordinary man I have ever known. Good or bad days he loves me. Not always in the ways I want but always in the ways I need. He practically reads my mind and even now, after almost 14 years of life, children and all the hell that can go along with it can stop me dead in my tracks with the lightest touch on my face.

I don't know who's around me, the place fades and I have forgotten entire thought processes and completely embarrassed myself in public places because of this. Recently.

To say I adore him is mild. He is as necessary to me as food and water and would throw things at me for saying so. Life as I know it is so intrinsically wrapped around him and us I would be lost without him.

I am a fairly strong person with an often overbearing personality, I'm quick witted and sharp tongued and yet, he completely overwhelms me. Without trying to do so. I would do anything to please him. Anything. I've known this and I think he's known it too from when our relationship became serious, all that time ago. Do you know what makes me trust him the most?

He knows what he could ask of me but he's never demanded or abused the power he could easily hold over me.

He is who he is because of how he allows G-d to shape him. I am who I am because of how he has loved me, forgiven me and restored me.

There isn't anyone alive who can compete with that.

I am blessed.

How unfortunate that after writing all that, I still have to go sleep with Betty. ;)

News from Zengzhou

2007-09-28T21:42:00.000-07:00

My parents are off gallivanting around the world again... Just so you know, this is what it really looks like when you take leaps of faith and step out of your comfort zone. You are never alone. Never abandoned and never without hope.

At least that's the example I have to look up to. So, without further ado. The letter from Hunan Province, China.

Dear ones,

This is my second try. hope I can send it this time. I really had a report and I felt it was good, huh.

Thanks for your emails. Julie, Heidi and Roxi. We feel close when we get them.

Sept 26, we left Salem at 4:30am.. Dad was unable to sleep after 3:00am so he was up and awake. I was trying to wake up. We arrived at PDX at 5:45am. At this time morning we had very little traffic....Checked our luggage and found that one was over weight about 6lbs. So Dad paid it and off it went. Books really weigh heavy. huh........

We walked to gate E-3, flew out at 7:30am. I sat beside Shawna. A christian. She was home spending time with her mother who had breast surgery. Things went fine and they felt blessed how things went and felt God was blessed and others were blessed PTL. She was returning to VietNam to join her family. She said they have a house that they are renting while they are away. Her husband works for Entel. She takes Bible literture and is involved in womens and childrens ministries. About 100 women and 60 children. Their sons are 10 1/2 and 7. They have lived in Shanghi, Siagon and VeitNam. The boys are sharing Jesus love too and reminded that God has a purpose for their lives and they are in
training. It was a joy to share with her how Jesus had directed us and how we have been in other parts of the world sharing the Love of Jesus and making a difference in the lives of others. She was reading the book Facing your Giants, by Max La Carduo, and so at San Fran we parted with a big hug and a promise to pray for others,

The 12 hours flight to Beijing went well and we arrived China time at 3:30pm. Thursday Sept 27. David Dong met us and took us to the JingLin hotel. It was good to lay down.
By 7:30 pm we went ot bed and we were glad.

Sept 28 we got packed and ready for breakfast and left the hotel at 9:00am. It was good to see one of the young men who worked at this hotel before. He knew us. we walked around and checked things for the flight to ZZ. We went to the China Air and they told us to come back at 11.00 am. So later on we checked for our passports and was unable to find them. Then we began to ask God for help for our recall. We called David Dong, we called the hotel, checked our suitcases again. Prayed in the spirit, seeking God's help and then David said go back to China air and ask for a refund on our tickets. We decided that God did not want us in china at this time and we were willing to go back home. The time was 11:00am and we had moments of concern for
an hour. When Dad went back to ask for a refund the girl said she had our passports. He came back to me and said lets go. We had a few minutes left to board the plane at 12.00Pm. We rode the shuttle to the plane, about 1:00pm we flew to ZZ, arriving at 2:15pm. The Chinese teacher, Penny, met us with her driver from the school. She said it will take us 1 hour to get to the school. There was a terrible traffic jam in ZZ and the driver did a good job, I was very stressful and was praying for him. The ZZ airport is very nice and has improved in many ways. Roxi yoiu would be impressed too. Dad got a cart for our luggage and got the carry on loaded and then he took off to check for the others. As I was pushing along, the cart got top heavy and down it went and down I went. Soon two chinese men came to help. Dad had no idea what happened. So i told him he really missed the show that just happened to me. So I told him and then he felt bad. We got our things and walked out and met Penny, the chinese teacher and her driver.

We arrived here at the aapartment. Met Jeff the Chinese school staff member. The teacher from England. The computor man, and looked over the apartment. Dad reminded me we are on our honeymoon. We have had to make a list of things to buy to get settled. We called Jane and Michael and they were real happy to know where we were and glad to be nearby. We have to buy a pho. card to use the phone here in our place, We also had to buy a meal ticket to eat at the cafeteria. We are going shopping this morning to get some things. We are looking for a second hand store or ask about some things on campus. The students ages are from 12----18. I am thinking that Jeff is planning for me to be teaching too. I thought Dad said I would be part time. We will see. Today we will get a ph number. Our nieghbor is a single young man from England named Tom. We are the only ones living here at this time. There is room for others when they come. Yesterday Dad began to prune the hedges that overgrown the balcony. It does look better now. This morning Dad was checking on something and broke the toilet seat cover. WOW.................

This weekend is outdoor sports contests. ALso getting ready for the Octoberfest celebration. So we have a few days that will help us to get more settled. Dad is out watching some of the activities and I am trying to send another email. I do need to get dressed before 10:00 am. My right foot is a little tender. Yesterday when we were moving furniture a peice fell on top of my foot near my toes. I can still walk. Smile.

The word for today is Rom 14:8 Living or dying we follow the Lord. Either way way we are HIS. We wont let satan have our children, business or keep us on a short leash or give him an inch.

Our love and prayers are with you. Keep the emails coming.

We are so glad we are your mom & Dad

She's a 74 stay-at-home mom/pastor's wife/missionary/evangelist/Sunday School teacher/grandma/great-grandma and physically disabled. He's 69, retired ironworker/ pastor/ evangelist/ missionary/ teacher/ dad/grandpa/ great-grandpa.

What's your excuse? I know mine seem paltry and ridiculous.

Titus

2007-09-25T12:05:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry I've been neglecting this blog so badly but I have a really good reason. Or several.

First it's the beginning of the school year, then it's the High Holidays and I am participating in, helping to decorate for and serving during 9 services in 5 weeks. Five of which happen within a 2 week period. Then I still work probably 30 hours a week with our business and lastly, I'm writing a study of the book of Titus for the ladies in our congregation which starts this evening and runs 8 weeks.

While the study is by no means definitive or really all that Amazing, I am having a wonderful time digging through books, writing outlines and compiling information. Even discussion questions are fun.

So, if you want to peek at what I'm currently writing, feel free to go here.

Housewife Fantasies

2007-09-20T21:10:00.000-07:00

You know, I'm not hard to please. Really. As the self-employed, married, homeschooling mother of 2 (yes only 2) I find life most enjoyable in the little things. I've never wanted big, extravagant gifts (they embarrass me) or lavish parties (they seem, well, too lavish) and the things I keep around the longest are often ridiculous to the outside observer.

I keep the ribbon from the gift Desiree gave me and the box it came in. Both are pretty and remind me of her. I still have the pictures of my baby boy's ultrasound. The one where I wasn't sure I was ready for baby #2 and then I saw him and fell in love. Truly in love. At first sight.

I've kept the note from my dad that he wrote many birthdays ago. It doesn't say much but he wrote it. And I can't get rid of the cheap little ring that states "M" because when the oldest was 6 he thought M was for Mom... Yes, it's a hip-hop ring.

So, what does a busy, busy, busy mom like me fantasize about?

Going to bed before 11pm. Coffee I didn't make, but made just the way I like it. My bathroom staying clean longer than 2 hours. Pajama day for 2 weeks in a row. A self-replenishing pantry, freezer and fridge. Nails that don't break in dishwater and hair that can go 3 days without being washed and still look Brek Marvelous. An extra 45 minutes in the morning to walk the dog (this would happen if the bedtime was before 11pm...) and to enjoy G-d's creation while it's still crisp and bright. A car that doesn't collect dust, grime and trash like a swirling vortex of despair. A babysitter who adores my kids, is always available and cleans up after herself and the kids. Oh and she lives next door.

I'm not hard to please. I don't think.

But somehow? I think asking for perfect teeth and LASIK would have been more likely than the above.

So, I'm going to sit here behind my little desk, with a splitting headache that started somewhere between my shoulder blades and the base of my skull. I'm not going to go find my slippers, I'll just be barefoot and complain about cold feet. I'm not going to put my hair up, it will just fall where it will and I'll tackle the next job in front of me.

And I'll wistfully imagine a clean bathroom, bubbles, champagne, Pavarotti singing in the background, candlelight and silk pajamas.

I'll get a shower, sweats and George Norey.

Wouldn't trade it for the world.

Ok, I couldn't help it!

2007-09-17T00:05:00.000-07:00

From Sparrow at All Atwitter:

Netflix, you don't know me...

2007-09-12T08:57:00.000-07:00

I took the time to painstakingly answer all your questions, fill out your forms and reply to your emails. I pay my dues. $12.99 a month.

I participated. I selected my movies and Instantly Watched tv shows and films.

And you come up with this?

Seriously!!!

Based on my watching history... "A Wonderful World" (Israeli children's program), Much Ado About Nothing (Shakespearean Drama) and a post-apocalyptic tv show you recommended:

Super Friends? Attack of the Legion of Doom? Circa 1978?

Glad someone's paying attention.

I Had A Dream

2007-09-11T19:17:00.000-07:00

Life was normal but the details were all wrong. The eyes of my companion were shifty and motivations were nebulous.

Circumstances arose which brought conflict in areas I would not compromise. Will not compromise.

A year later as I have watched and waited I am convinced what I saw was my companion's heart and not my own weakness.

So, how do I pray for one whose hidden desires are shown to me? Shown as they crawl out of a darkened soul? I have seen passions lurking beneath pleasantness which strike fear in my heart.

Why would G-d show me this save for me to intercede?

Or to be warned...

Void

2007-09-07T20:58:00.000-07:00

The month of nothing. Not the absence of stress "nothing" the calm before the storm "nothing" or the All Quiet on the Western Front "nothing".

Elul is the month of nothingness. Void.

In the last 3 years, that has been how I've recognized it.

This is the time to remember before Creation when all was still and quiet and hope, dreams and visions were silent. A time before Present and Future. A time when we are unmade and the Spirit moves over the face of the deep. A time when only the Creator saw potential and was moved to speak.

This is the time before we begin. Again.

At the sound of the trumpet.

Trumpets are important in the kingdom of G-d. Symbolizing His voice, His call to war, to worship and to attention, a trumpet is both judgment and salvation. Message and messenger.

Can I wait out this time before, trusting the Creator for the time to come?

Sometimes the testing does not come in the fire and the wind and the shaking of our foundations but in the stillness, the quiet, the silence.

Can we wait in the void for the Spirit to move us, the Voice to speak life and the Light to burst forth illuminating all we are and showing the way to all we can become?

In the darkness He is at work. In the stillness He is moving.

He is greater than the Deep and more magnificent than creation.

He is I Am.

Then. When. Now.

He is.

So we can become.

Better Angels

2007-09-03T01:24:00.001-07:00

I don't watch many dramas. I avoid romances like the plague and rarely will even go for a romantic "comedy". I enjoyed "Much Ado About Nothing" but more because the cast was spectacular, the script by Branagh (with a little help from Shakespeare) and I really do enjoy Emma Thompson.

Oddly enough, I enjoy Jane Austen very much.

Tonight I watched a movie that scraped me raw. "Perfect Stranger" with Halle Berry and Bruce Willis.

Let's just say I understood her need to defend herself every day of her life and tomorrow's perspective will lend itself well to equalizing my gut response.

Tomorrow will find better angels.

Tonight I'll just fight a few demons of my own.

Pet Sitting

2007-08-30T01:31:00.000-07:00

Shelia asked me for a "quick rundown" of Scooby's life since she graciously offered to watch him while we embark on the great psycho family event known as Grandma's funeral.

Since it is 1:33 and sleep is obnoxiously eluding me, I wrote this and thought it funny enough to share.

I could be wrong. Sleep deprivation does mess with my somewhat tenuous hold on reality.

Scooby's Average Day

Get up around 7pm, shake vigorously, irritating anyone who happens to hear you...

Pee, poop, wander about the house saying "good morning" by shoving a scratchy face in my armpit...

Eat 2 cups puppy food, make sure to spill at least 4 bits behind the dog bowl and then dump your water while anxiously seeking the "lost yummy". Drink some water.

Drool on the floor.

Lick self repeatedly in areas which should not be seen publicly.

Whine at the door to go outside to bark at the neighbor, pee on the tree and possibly poop once again if feeling inspired.

Come inside and nap for 4.2 hours, in 12 minute intervals, as the early morning hi-jinks have obviously been too exhausting for your delicate constitution.

Follow me around the house, lying on my feet and randomly releasing odors which are reminiscent of dead things and junior high boy gym socks.

Lick self repeatedly in areas which should not be seen publicly.

Attempt to lick my face.

Fail.

Whine at the door, go outside, pee in same area so as to further enforce the spreading area of dead grass and thereby thwart Brian's most diligent effort to actually Grow Grass in the cess pool which is our back yard.

Nap again.

Find heffalump with partial head missing. Throw stuffed animal up, catch, chase stubby tail, bench press the coffee table and dream about chasing that damn cat.

6:30 Eat 2 cups of puppy food. Eat very quickly as it is obvious starvation is imminent as I refused to share my broccoli and onions from dinner. Cruel deprivation. Heartless.

Make mess.

Barf. Walk away. Turn around and before I can clean it up, eat barf and lick chops. Yummy! Vomit!!!

Go outside. Pee. Poop. Fart. Not necessarily in that order.

Sleep all evening. Such a hard day. Completely worn out. Twitch, whine and randomly jump up at weird noises. *Making sure to NOT be under the coffee table when startled".

At 11:30-12:00 whine at the door again, pee. Wander for 10 minutes to find Just The Right Place. Change mind and start all over. After sniffing every blade of grass in a 1/2 acre plot, poop. Run briskly back to the house, wander into crate and sleep until 7:00 am.

Merle Avo

2007-08-27T19:51:00.000-07:00

My grandmother passed away this morning at 11:30am. At 10:10 Aunt Lynn woke her and told her we all love her. The phone rang, Aunt Lynn went to answer the phone and when she came back Grandma D was gone.

She was 98 and is survived by 5 children, 32 grandchildren, 53 great-grandchildren and 4 great-great-grandchildren.

She wasn't an unusual women, for her time.

Grandma D. Merle Avo. We used to joke and call her "Merle's Navel" which she hated. Since she was born in New Mexico we also used to say she was a Mexican and that would just rile her Oklahoma sensibilities.

"I am not!" she would emphatically state. Then she'd giggle. Just a little.

My favorite story of Grandma is this one. I hope someday to be this strong. I don't know how she did it.

The year was 1938. They lived in Oklahoma and there was no work, no food and no prospects. So Grandpa headed out to the West Coast looking for work.

He was gone a long time without word when Grandma sold everything they had to her mother, bought bus tickets for herself, Jimmy, Paul, Eva Marie and little Everett. They had just enough left over for a bag of oranges.

Determined and proud, she set out. From Oklahoma to Los Angeles then north to Salem. Jimmy was 8, Eva Marie was 5, Paul was 4 and Everett was the baby. What they would find when they got to Salem, Oregon they couldn't predict and it had been a very long time since they'd heard from Grandpa.

When they arrived a kind gentleman paid for them to spend one night in a hotel and Grandma called Aunt Maxine, Grandpa's sister. Aunt Maxine found Grandpa, Grandma found Grandpa and they stayed on Fairhaven in the house he built until 1997 when he passed away.

That's as much of the story as she would ever allow to be told. But reading a little bit between the lines I see strength, fear, hope and determination.

Merle Avo was not an unusual woman. For her time.

She was extraordinary in ours.

Introduction to Titus

2007-08-25T12:28:00.000-07:00

Introduction to Titus

Paul wrote 10 epistles and 3 “pastoral” letters. These letters include two specifically to Timothy and one sent to Titus. The purpose of his “pastoral” letters was to encourage and direct the leadership of the Messianic community at its’ very beginning.

In the letter to Titus we find three main points:

• How to determine qualified leadership.

• How worship within the congregation should appear.

• How to care for those within the congregation with both equanimity and equality.

“Titus” (Τίτος) literally means “nurse” and he ministered, perhaps doing triage, to the baby believers at the dawning of the Body of Christ. Remembered down through time as the faithful companion of Paul he is also the man sent to a struggling congregation, in Corinth, when they desperately needed guidance and direction. (2 Corinthians 8:1-6)

Referred to by Paul as his “son in the common faith” he was a product of Paul’s ministry and Paul’s depth of affection for him can be described as that of father to son. As written in 1Timothy 1:2 & Titus 1:4, Paul viewed both Timothy and Titus as “spiritual sons”. These men certainly followed in the “family business”.

What we definitively know of Titus background is limited. He was Greek, a believing Gentile and a traveling companion of Paul and Barnabas even before Paul’s missionary journeys began.

He was Paul’s example of a “righteous goyim” during the controversial debate in Jerusalem regarding circumcision and Torah observance among the Gentiles. (Galatians 2) He rejoiced in the obedience and fellowship of the Corinthian believers (2 Corinthians 7:13-15) and he obviously had compassion on them as they sought to do the right thing when he was sent to oversee them.

He was sent, by Paul, to Crete and was given the responsibility of appointing local leaders (elders) in every city (Titus 1:5). At the last Biblical mention of this amazing man, Titus returns to minister with Paul and later ventures to Dalmatia (present day Albania) where I would like to assume he was, as he was already shown to be, compassionate, determined and faithful. (2 Timothy 4:10)

The Biblical reference to Titus stops there, but history records he lived to the ripe old age of 94, died in AD 107 and was buried on the island of Crete. Historical “hear-say” also informs us he returned from Dalmatia to the Greek islands and worked diligently to spread the Gospel throughout all the islands. His “day” is presently celebrated by Greeks on August 25th and the Latin contingent on January 4th.

Titus was a remarkable man who lived effectively in a remarkable era. This small letter, written almost 2000 years ago, shows an Apostle’s vision and desire for the Messianic community at that time as well as a prophetic vision for us, in our own time.

Titus

2007-08-23T10:13:00.000-07:00

I'm starting to put together a study on the book of Titus. This is a study for women and we'll probably spend some time studying Titus 2 specifically.

So, have any of you met a realio-trulio Titus 2 woman?

Give your personal perception of her, please. I know I'm asking for a completely subjective opinion, but I promise I have a hidden agenda.

As per Farmer Tom's request...

Update:

Titus 2: 3-5
NASB

Older women likewise are to be reverent in their behavior, ot malicious gossips nor enslaved to much wine, teaching what is good, so that they may encourage the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be sensible, pure, workers at home, kind, being subject to their own husbands, so that the word of God will not be dishonored.

Sound like anyone you know?

Size DOES Matter!!!

2007-08-21T21:19:00.000-07:00

Who knew 2" would make such a difference!

.....................................................................................................................................................

I love my new larger, brighter, newer and imminently more satisfying monitor! I am extremely grateful to my benefactor, Mr. Larry.

:)

It's good to have friends.

Values

2007-08-20T14:19:00.001-07:00

I found this interesting and not too far off base. Not like that other one...

Your Values Profile

Loyalty:

You value loyalty highly.
You're completely devoted to your friends and family.
Even if they totally screw up, you're still there for them.
Just make sure they're equally loyal to you!

Honesty:

You value honesty highly.
You're unflinchingly honest, even when it's not easy.
For you, integrity is very important - in yourself and others.
People may not always like what you say, but they know they can trust it.

Generosity:

You value generosity highly.
So much so that you often put your own needs last.
There's nothing wrong with having a caring heart...
But you may want to rethink your "open wallet" policy.

Humility:

You value humility highly.
You have the self-confidence to be happy with who you are.
And you don't need to seek praise to make yourself feel better.
You're very modest, and you're keep the drama factor low.

Tolerance:

You value tolerance highly.
Not only do you enjoy the company of those very different from you...
You do all that you can to seek it out interesting and unique friends.
You think there are many truths in life, and you're open to many of them.

The Five Factor Values Test

Love for Israel

2007-08-15T23:58:00.000-07:00

Doesn't that sound fantastic? Every believer should have a passion for the condition of Israel. Our hearts should join the cry of Paul that ALL men should be saved! Jews and Gentiles alike drawn toward the loving embrace of our Creator G-d.

We are told to pray for the peace of Jerusalem and to look upon the fulfilled prophecies regarding Israel and her people as they guide us in the timing of the return of Yeshua, our Messiah, The Christ.

So, what happens when someone takes that sincere belief, twists it to their own ends, adds heretical doctrine and paints it all under the guise of "loving Israel".

You end up here at the "Love For Israel" conference and it's nothing like what it appears to be.

Here are some of the fundamentals behind "Heritage House Ministries".

When you become a believer your DNA changes and you become, through a spiritual and physical transformation, a legitimate member of the nation of Israel, a member of one of the 10 "lost" tribes and a full-blood Jew with the right of return as well as a right to actual LAND in Israel.

Reality has no bearing on this belief and simply because you believe it to be so, you must be correct.

This conference features speakers who may have "jewish names" but in reality hold no heritage of their own outside of the words they speak. They are a group of self-proclaimed experts on subjects where they have little, if any, credibility.

And the sincere, naive believer who truly has a heart to know more of the hebraic roots of our Christian faith walks in to see something "messianic" that is neither recognized nor supported by the Messianic movement world-wide.

So... Why do I care so much? Why am I putting this very inflammatory and negative information up on my blog?

Well, let me explain.

When one chooses to believe Israel has been "replaced" by something "new" that person is walking on very dangerous ground theologically. How do I continue to believe in a G-d who never changes if He has indeed changed! How can I believe He will never leave me or forsake me when I am being encouraged to believe that He has done exactly that to the nation HE raised up, nurtured? How can I believe Him when He states He still has a divine and specific plan for her? A plan which leads far into the future, even eternity, and whereby the nations will continue to be blessed.

If I don't believe He is consistent and devoted to the truth and commitment of His OWN WORD I am at a loss and am not serving much of a divine deity.

What's that old saying, "Let G-d be true and every man a liar"?

Another significant issue I have with this messanic flavored replacement theology is the simple progression of both thought and action that results when an individual chooses to believe Israel has been replaced by none other than themselves.

First, Israel, the true and present Israel, is forgotten. Why should we remember some dusty place in the Middle East and all their problems when I can be Israel in my own back yard! Secondly, why should I evangelize those stubborn Jews! They've denied Messiah! They reject Yeshua! I am Israel, I am a Jew and they have to live with the consequences of their own actions. This "Love for Israel" becomes nothing more than a hyped up, over-spiritualized nonsense and boils down to an encouragement toward feeling really good about myself and my new identity and ceasing to seek G-d about His plan for my life.

Secondly, and this is even more disturbing to me, the role of the Gentile in the Body of Christ is completely rejected. The work G-d has intended from the beginning for both Jew and Gentile, the beautiful harmony of His body working together, each in the specific roles set out for them is completely denied.

John 3:17 "G-d sent His son into the world not to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved."

Nowhere can I find where the Word states the need to become a Jew to be saved, validated or useful in the Kingdom of G-d. In fact, through the book of Acts and all through the B'rit Hadashah or New Testament we see that belief being repudiated, renounced, strongly denied and even blatantly addressed as SIN!

One can not love Israel by pretending to replace her anymore than I can say I love my husband and then run around saying I have become him.

It's this kind of psuedo-spiritual kookiness which leeches our faith of it's credibility. It's this kind of doctrinal and theological deception which distances the seeking Jew that much further from us.

A Jew is given their identity from G-d just as a Gentile is also given their identity from G-d. None of us are able to choose our parentage or heritage. All we can do is recognize His Plan, His Purpose and His Call upon us in the unique and specific ways He speaks.

To do otherwise is making a god in our own image. A god who changes, "rectifies" mistakes and denies an enormous part of humanity which He created and has stated clearly He loves enough to die for, live for and lead.

What is the greatest love? To lay down one's life? Not to take on an identity which was not yours, is not yours and was never intended to be yours. How does love show itself? By supporting, encouraging, living sacrificially for and believing the best about.

Not replacing. We have our own identities, even if we haven't taken the time to pursue the Lord and find out what He may have planned for us as individuals.

That, my friends, is a mill-stone. That my friends is modern day Judaizing.

That is the crux of the "Love for Israel" conference.

But what kind of "love" is that?

Mist

2007-08-13T13:15:00.000-07:00

Sometimes finding the truth of an issue can be as frustrating as attempting to capture mist in your hand and carry it home for study.

A lovely concept in theory but rarely feasible in real life.

Without going into boring details, I will, in summation, say I have been through a harrowing ordeal this summer. In both my private and public life. How does one bounce back from that? You can be assured I'm not entirely certain. Of one thing I am certain and it is this, I won't look the same again. Probably ever. I have been changed.

I was told today that what happened would be enough to send some people to an insane asylum and yet because I am "so strong" I am really coping well.

Newsflash... I'm not strong.

I'm determined.

I'm determined to learn this lesson so I will be saved the anguish of repeating it. Determined to remember this lesson so I could possibly be spared the 2nd verse of the same song and it 's ensuing price tag. Determined to hear whatever G-d may be saying to me regardless of the cost. I am determined to be as completely cognizant of the reality of my own failures and weaknesses as I am able. I am determined to find those faults which led me to this place in the beginning.

As the result of poor choices on the part of myself and some of my acquaintances, I have been damaged. Broken. Filleted. Or is that flayed...

Doesn't matter, they both apply. As ugly and outlandish as they sound the words seem so 2-dimensional when compared to the depth of response which has been dragged, kicking and screaming, from my spirit and soul.

It is as though I am sifting mist with sweaty palms and hoping to find a piece or two of tangible truth upon which to hold fast. I can't tell anyone how long this process will take. I have good days and bad, hope and fear. Where I would have spoken boldly and held my ground I find myself quiet and contemplative, introspective and easily intimidated.

I've determined I cannot wait for someone else to take the steps needed to drag me from this pit. That's apparently my job. My question remains:

How do I stand fast and resolute when it seems all I am holding onto is vapor, a whisper, a shadow? Upon what do I build and rebuild? How does one guard the heart without guarding oneself to a perpetual state of loneliness?

As I told my husband yesterday, "There are no honorary doctorates in the kingdom of G-d, we earn every credit through blood, sweat and tears."

You can quote me. He said he would.

Thanks Doom

2007-08-08T11:37:00.000-07:00

I find the 14% disturbing...

You Are 14% Feminist

You are definitely not a feminist. In fact, you are every feminist's worst nightmare.
You believe that women belong in the kitchen.... barefoot and pregnant.

Are You a Feminist?

Pain

2007-08-07T09:46:00.000-07:00

Cowboy, I don't believe anyone here was "blaming G-d" for the pain in the world and the broken-ness. I certainly wasn't. However, I do disagree with you on what is most likely a semantical argument.

"Love doesn't hurt."

To be more precise, Love doesn't "harm". Love hurts like hell and bears incredible fruit. What Love doesn't do is break you for the fun of it, shred your dignity and leave you bleeding in the middle of the road to be laughed at by strangers.

But Love will intervene, challenge behavior which is destructive and stand in the way of me getting my selfish, human, fallen nature way even at the cost of relationship.

Love spanks. Love "chastens". Love exhorts and admonishes.

Love doesn't destroy.

To address your further points... I so completely agree with you about G-d being a good and faithful Father. He provides such good care for His own. And we still live in a fallen world with broken bodies, minds and hearts. One day we will be whole, complete and perfectly strong. One day we will see Him face to face.

I don't believe you believe we should run away from pain as I've "seen" you run headlong into it, through it and somehow beyond it. G-d's grace is sufficient, no? Yes?

Yet, somehow, your comments struck me as the "avoid all pain as it is evil and shouldn't be tolerated" type of faith talk. That always gets such a knee jerk reaction out of me and believe me, I am trying to not be inflammatory but feel compelled to reply.

Pain has a purpose here on earth or there would have been no need for the cross. By His stripes we are healed. He suffered so that I would not have to suffer the fires of hell.

Paul suffered, Stephen was stoned and Peter was crucified upside down. Countless faithful down through the history of the Body of Messiah have been persecuted, afflicted and now take their place at His feet crying "holy, holy, holy".

Pain can be despised or used as a catalyst to grow, an opportunity to find faith you never knew existed and ultimately is an extremely useful method of refinement for believers.

Sickness, disease, hardship, broken hearts are all avenues where, if we listen carefully, we can hear the voice of our Savior whispering comfort, strength and hope to us. By saying that do I infer pain, sickness, hardship and broken hearts come from Him? Absolutely not. Emphatically not. Do I believe He allows? Well, the entire book of Job would be a fallacy and a lie if He didn't, wouldn't it?

Job could be trusted with hardship, loss and suffering. Trusted? How? Why?

Because he knew G-d. He trusted G-d and his faith in G-d's goodness was unwavering.

And our good and glorious G-d told Satan, the adversary of our souls:

"...Behold, he is in your power, only spare his life." Job 2:6b

G-d gave Satan PERMISSION to afflict, hurt and even harm Job. And how Job suffered! Unlike anyone I have ever heard. Did G-d restore to him? Of course! Job was rewarded for his faithfulness and his unwavering faith.

Can we say the same for ourselves in the middle of difficult circumstances? How easily do I waver? How easily do you?

We serve a G-d of blessing and goodness. And we serve a loving Father who chastises, disciplines and removes things from our lives. He removes things we would be tempted to worship and objects or desires which would conflict with His plan.

Do we spend hours begging for the cup to pass or do we share our honest hearts about the pain we are experiencing and somehow find the strength to finish with "not my will but Yours be done."

Pain is not our enemy. Bitterness and self-preservation far too often have become the culprits behind broken faith.

We can hide our pain in a closet and pretend it doesn’t exist, or we can bare our bleeding, shredded souls to a careful and considerate Great Physician. Can I trust a Physician who may not choose to heal me so my soul could be refined? So my life could be a testimony of grace, mercy and compassion?

It is not through the absence of conflict our character is revealed but our response through conflict, distress and confusion. When the layers of our public self are stripped away to reveal the purpose of our private heart THEN we can be counted. Then we can be that living sacrifice from Roman’s.

My life should not be focused on the good and comfort I may find here on earth but the hope and eternal purpose for which we were all created.

And to find that purpose? Sometimes we walk through fire, on crutches, with tears.

Again

2007-08-05T22:15:00.000-07:00

I adore my brother. Adore. In the sense of think highly of, think of often, would give my left arm to help him in any way I can. Adore.

He was born 8 weeks early and slept, for the first few months of his life, in my doll crib. Lots of black hair and the biggest brown eyes you could imagine. He's six years younger than me and I was absolutely thrilled to have a little brother.

He has always been "active". That's code for Non Stop Action. I remember when he was 5 he would run with his head looking back at the "smoke" he created in the dirt. Better sneakers made him run faster, you know. Then he discovered BMX bikes and would ride for hours and hours. He never got tired it seemed. In Junior High he discovered soccer and while he wouldn't have been good enough to go pro he most definitely excelled in the environments where he would play. When he finally got his own car he drove fast and wrecked often. Never a scratch, just higher insurance.

Somehow it was always someone else's fault.

Baby brothers, sheesh!

When he was 19 we found out he had MS. Multiple Sclerosis. At least that is what the doctor's named the mystery ailment that made him incoherent, slur his speech and not be able to control his motor functions very well. We've tried, as much as he'll let us, to support and encourage him as he's walked through some very difficult times. Trying to cope with new limitations that a 20 something young man shouldn't have to think about. It's not fair. It's not ok. And yet, somehow, I have to believe G-d has a blessing hidden and available in all of this. Somewhere. Especially when I can't see it.

A month ago his son was born. Little Reuben is beautiful and perfect. I saw my little brother all over again in his dark eyes and fuzzy black hair. I can almost picture Reuben running down the lane in white sneakers looking at the dust behind him.

What I wasn't prepared to see, yesterday when I saw my brother and his wife, was stiff legs, severely limited mobility and the shuffling gait of an old man. i didn't know how to interact with slurred speech and fragmented conversation.

I can't fathom the pain and disappointment a young, first time father would be experiencing knowing he can't carry his own son because he, the father, falls and cannot help himself. I am struggling to come to terms with how the sparkle, laughter and almost spastic energy of my brilliant little brother has not only dimmed but has become practically non-existent.

I adore my brother. Without reservation. I adore all my siblings and think they are the most amazing people I've ever known. As we've grown older and moved out into our respective lives I'm constantly inspired by them. But there has been a price. Twenty-two years ago we lost Joel to paranoid schizophrenia.

Yesterday I realized we might be losing Matt to MS.

Today I'm praying as hard as I can for G-d to grant mercy and compassion to them, wisdom and grace to me and strength for all of us as we try to come to terms with our new normal.

Yet, in my heart of hearts, all I can think is how unkind life is, how unfair circumstances can be and how much I wish I could fix this for him, give him his energy back. Just to see him running down the road one more time. Boundless energy, laughter echoing off the walls and a twinkle in his eyes.

I know it's selfish. I know there's a part of me that wants my pain alleviated as much as I want his to be assuaged.

It's infuriating to know I'm powerless to help. I'm too far away to assist. We are too distant in relationship to bear the burden with him.

So I pray. And wait. And hope.

Again.

Lighten up, Frances!

2007-08-01T22:37:00.000-07:00

Or at least the Cowboy thinks I should. Although why he called me Frances is beyond me.

Since I'm not entirely certain how to do that right now, I'm going to do the next best thing and take a blog hiatus until such a time as my sense of humor returns. Sporadic posting may ensue, but the melodrama which seems to have permeated the atmosphere here will, hopefully, be in short supply.

Life has gotten the better of me at this particular moment and G-d and I are in negotiations for how to make it all work again.

So, until next time...

Shalom.

Riches to Rags

2007-07-31T06:57:00.001-07:00

I think I was supposed to be in college, but since I never went it's hard to know what that looks like. The little brunette in black was my room-mate and we were both trying out for the new jazz ensemble. They are going to the studio in a couple of months and their music is rich, mellow and complex. Now she had a voice that would rumble and rock a room. I'm still not sure what I sound like but I have a lot of technical stuff she doesn't have a clue about.

We are waiting for the tryouts and while the dream doesn't quite fill in all the details, I'm terrified.

Her tryout is dynamite. Rocked the house. Mine? I sight read an opera and couldn't remember any other songs. On a positive "note" I hit every single arpeggio with lyrical beauty, but, in a jazz environment it's not about clear runs, it's about slightly smudged improvisation.

I woke up disoriented and feeling shaky. I hate trying out for anything. I lack that true confidence where you don't care who is watching, you are convinced and you run with whatever you're doing.

Have you ever had an experience where your confidence is shattered? Even if you don't possess much, what little you do have now hangs in tatters. Confidence is a funny little animal and difficult to maintain at a proper and reasonable level. One must suspend disbelief to choose to exist in a world that is their "friend" at all times. That's fantasy. One must also do their best to not over-think life and therefore become paranoid! That's delusion. Paranoia presupposes everyone around you has nothing better to do than talk or scheme directly about yourself. Ego much? The truth lies somewhere in the squishy center.

My life and my dream have often resulted in situations very much the same. A tryout where I sang the wrong songs and couldn't remember the right ones. A burning desire to be a part but somehow making all the wrong moves.

Someday, maybe, I'll make sense of it all and figure out which step comes next. For now? I'll just keep walking. One step at a time.

Hello, anybody out there?

2007-07-24T21:22:00.000-07:00

Sitemeter tells me my traffic is the same, but apparently I'm boring you all to tears... Well, I can't be entertaining all the time!

Conversations while doing errands with the Big Son.

The Son: I'm drinking like a fish today! Mom? Do fish drink? Do they get thirsty?

Me: *stumped* I have no idea! Do you think whales get thirsty?

The question is still up for discussion as I would love to have an answer.

Then this...

The Son: Mom, if I were Jimmy Nuetron I would build a machine to turn me into a superhero! But I'm not sure which super power I'd want. Which super power would you have?

Mom *thinking about recent events* I'd like the ability to not care what anyone thinks about me!

The Son: But you aren't allowed to have superpowers that only benefit yourself, they have to be good for at least two more people.

(I interject to inform you I had no idea there were such rules regarding the dispersment of supernatural abilities, but now we all know. And don't forget it next time you are imagining a new ability you'd like to have!)

Mom: Hm... Ok, well then I'd like to have the super power where everyone likes me!

The Son: That's the same thing! You're still thinking about yourself only! Besides, you already have that power!

Mom: *almost crashes grocery getter in attempt to stifle cynical and hysterical laughter* Oh baby, as long as you, your dad and your brother like me I'm doing as good as I can hope for!

The Son: Mom, duh!

Ahh! Good times! Good times!

Psalm 46:10a

2007-07-17T14:58:00.000-07:00

"Be still and know that I am G-d"

"Be raphiah and yadav that I am G-d."

"Be still and healed so that you might understand and comprehend with every aspect of your being that I am G-d"

Can we know who G-d is without being "healed"? The healthy don't need a doctor, the strong don't need a comforter. The self-sufficient don't recognize a need for G-d.

Through our weakness He is made manifest and glorious. Why? I venture a guess that it is precisely because He knows what we need to be made whole and will restore us so we can stand again, maybe with a pain in our hip, and follow the One who gave us the blessing.

Be healed... then you'll know.

Perspective

2007-07-13T19:07:00.000-07:00

It's been an interesting week. One hell of a ride, to put it mildly.

I've prayed a lot and G-d has helped me gain some insight. None of which I will share with you, my dear reader.

I went to lunch with a precious friend I don't spend nearly enough time with, got my hair done and reconnected sweetly with another friend from whom I had drifted. I spent oodles of time discussing life, love and issues of godliness with my husband and I talked for an hour with my dad.

Reality.

Life is not defined by what the majority thinks or the loudest voices shout. Life is defined by what G-d thinks and what His word says. We should always be careful to heed most earnestly the words of those who truly know us and love us wholeheartedly anyway.

Therein lies the kernel of truth which gives me the greatest hope and assuages the confusion and hurt within.

And to think, all I needed was a little perspective.

An observation...

2007-07-12T19:16:00.000-07:00

A reminder, such as it is, of how I have failed in friendship and how I can improve...

Why We Need Four

Respect, mutual admiration, trust and honesty.

These are the foundational elements to any relationship which one intends to take beyond mere acquaintance and into the realm of companion of the heart. Armor bearer, if you will. Why don't I include Love? Because Love is a commandment and should be given to whomever we are in fellowship with regardless of any behavior that is shown. Because Love is to be offered even though the other person may not deserve, acknowledge or reciprocate. Because Love shouldn't hinge on anything but an acknowledgement of G-d's grace to us and His Love which never fails while we constantly live in a state of undeserved compassion and mercy.

These four characteristics of a good relationship come as a result of time, choices, character and vision. While Love many times produces this type of fruit, we shouldn't base Love upon it.

Without any one of these elements the relationship is doomed for failure. Mutual admiration is what draws you in at the beginning and through honesty and respect this admiration continues to grow. It is very difficult to hold onto respect when honesty is missing and without honesty, trust is almost impossible.

Imagine a table, a good, solid table. A table that is both well-made and ready for years of good service. What happens when you chop off one of the legs? Now it is precarious at best and destructive at worst. It may even look serviceable and completely acceptable from many angles. It can still serve a few purposes, if it is propped up adequately and no one looks too closely or expects too much.

But was the original intent of the table to just look good or at least presentable if not examined too closely? Isn't a table for coffee and crumpets while discussing the thoughts and intents of our hearts? Isn't a table for nourishment and sustenance? Isn't a table the place to spread out our study books and find the understanding behind the words? Isn't a table intended to be useful?

And when it is not used for its' intended purpose or kept in working order so as to be of service, what good is it?

A three legged table will not securely support those around it. One will end up supporting the other at the expense of both. A two legged table is firewood.

What we often forget, in our foolishness, is this. Rebuilding can often take more time than was necessary to build in the first place. And when rebuilt we will never look the same.

to breathe

2007-07-11T22:11:00.001-07:00

I’m not good at feeling. I’m good at doing. Put a task in front of me and I’m there with my organizer, lists, priorities, purpose and determination. This I can do. Eventually I will stop, evaluate my performance, re-focus and push on. One task at a time. Hoping I’m useful, yearning to be valuable.

That’s how I live. That’s how I’ve survived. My feelings? I only address them when necessary and only when the environment seems safe.

They frighten me. Their depth, intensity and ability to consume me force me to keep them on a short leash.

They’ve ended me up in a psych ward, staring at the sharp edge of razors. Destruction has been the only thing I’ve found at the end of their romp with my reality.

I don’t know what to do with them. Given the chance they would dominate me and destroy me. Given the opportunity, they are stronger than I am.

Because I don’t know what to do with them. Believe me, I’m smart enough to know that. Just apparently not smart enough to figure it out.

So, what do I do when every step is deliberate, every word must be carefully weighed and the sharp edges of my soul are slicing through my rib cage? I don’t understand being fragile and tangibly broken. I’m terrible at it.

So, I stay quiet. Waiting for the next time I can breathe evenly again. Hoping tomorrow will be the day I can brush myself off, straighten my lists and limp away.

Just don’t get too close to me. It’s taking all the strength I possess to breathe.

To everything there is a season...

2007-07-08T16:23:00.001-07:00

My season is "Silence".

"Behold, a son"

2007-07-06T21:50:00.002-07:00

My baby brother just had a baby boy and the title is the meaning of his first name. Cool, huh?

Reuben James G****r (anonymity, you know)

We are so proud!!!

He is grandchild #19 for my parents, nephew # 7 and baby #1 for my brother and his lovely wife.

A bit of family trivia.

He is also the 50th grandchild for my grandmother who turns 98 in August. He counts even though he is a "great".

Apparently, my family throws a lot of "y" chromosomes. Lots of blue in my family. Not so much pink.

Just had to share the good news! His mom is a spectacular photographer so we wait with bated breath for some lovely photos of his royal highness.

This one is for the puppies.

2007-07-05T00:15:00.000-07:00

Despite trying to avoid the dubious honor it is to be tagged in a meme, I have been not once but twice tapped for this privilege. Via the lovely and intelligent Pretty Lady and the handsome and articulate Desert Cat I find myself looking to find 8 things with which to bore you, um, enlighten you.

So, without further ado, let me first post the rules, as that seems to be the nature of this game.

1. All right, here are the rules.

2. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.

3. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.

4. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight
things and post these rules.

5. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged
and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re
tagged, and to read your blog.

Ahem.

1. I cannot leave my sheets longer than 7 days without stripping, changing and remaking the entire bed. It is difficult to sleep in a bed which is unmade. I will literally sleep on the couch if I "feel" the sheets may be not as fresh as I'd like and I find it very difficult to sleep in a bed I haven't made myself.

2. I studied computer programming for 3 years but gave up when I discovered I enjoyed accounting more.

3. My husband and I have matching birthmarks. Mine is on my right side (rib cage) and his is on the left. Identical in coloration, shape and location.

4. At last count I owned over 50 pairs of shoes. *cringe*

5. I was a budding artist, with Potential, until high school when I completely ignored any form of art which was not musical.

6. I have been intensely pursued by 3 lesbians. All of whom were close friends. We parted ways quickly. Hm... Wonder why...

7. I will never forget Dustin.

8. I'm a perfectionist.

G-d Bless America, please?

2007-07-04T09:14:00.000-07:00

I shudder to think of what we deserve....

While the storm clouds gather far across the sea,
Let us swear allegiance to a land that's free,
Let us all be grateful for a land so fair,
As we raise our voices in a solemn prayer. "

God Bless America,
Land that I love.
Stand beside her, and guide her
Thru the night with a light from above.
From the mountains, to the prairies,
To the oceans, white with foam
God bless America, My home sweet home.

So, what did you do today?

2007-07-02T18:23:00.001-07:00

Lucy, George and Scooby. Taking the boys for a ride. IF you put the cursor on the image you will experience the creative method I utilize for labeling photos.....

Contingency Plan

2007-07-01T23:38:00.000-07:00

There aren't very many topics my husband and I don't discuss. Intensely personal or intentionally broad, we have worked our way through a gadzillion of them.

One of those topics is the "what do you do in the event of the untimely demise of one or the other of us"?

We spent a 6 hour drive to the coast one February and hashed out the details of our discussion.

Firstly, given our ages and the medical histories of our respective families, the odds are not in his favor. So, practically speaking, it makes more sense to focus on how to live without him than for us to spend a great deal of time thinking about him living without me. I also have spent the vast majority of my adult years as a well-kept home maker, wife and teacher of children. No degree. No job history. I am the one who needs a plan. Him? Not the same.

Macabre?

Maybe. As I have from the very beginning had the deepest, most irrational and undying fear of him dying, this actually is very comforting for me.

We have talked about the plans he has for the boys, what kind of men he would like them to be and how he wants to see them raised. We've discussed qualifications for any man who would be willing to step into the role of parenting them with me and how I should behave in the event G-d brings a second Mr. into my life. Some of these discussions have gotten intense and there are many which have left us both quiet and me holding onto him tightly with a lump in my throat. He has quite a bit more faith than I in this area. He thinks we should grieve for a reasonable time (6 months to a year) and then just get back out there, realize he's in a better place and get on with living.

Um... Sure.

He also insists I should earnestly seek the Lord about providing another earthly father for the boys. I have insisted he do the same and hope my boys would have a second chance at a mother. :)

Cold? Pragmatic? Not romantic?

Well, in the event of such an atrocity and heaven forbid one of us goes there won't be the opportunity for these conversations, will there?

We plan for the financial and educational future of our children and our spouses. We spend hours writing wills, estate planning and doing what we can to insure the even distribution of assets. Why would we spend any less time talking about the emotional, relational and spiritual ramifications of grief, living beyond loss and rebuilding?

For the record, I've decided I would be most pleased with a retired gentleman, widowed, strong believer. I realize that may mean he is quite a bit my senior. But I have found, in my experience, the men close to me in age are jaded, cynical and have far more "life experience" than would be beneficial or conducive to a solid marriage and the rearing of young men. Also, there would be no more children as I am not able to have any more. Young men often want to build their own "legacy" and if that is their desire, by all means! My sons would, in this fictitious scenario, be the legacy of their biological father with the influence of another.

A lady or gentleman who happened to be a divorcee would be hard pressed to make our A-list. The pain, restoration and subsequent cynicism is extremely hard to compensate for and a burden I wouldn't want to see placed on my children. If that were, indeed G-d's will, He would be speaking plainly, loudly and possibly using large objects thrown at our heads.

These are the barest bones of our contingency plans. We have dealt with trust fund issues for the distribution of life insurance policies so as to avoid the temptation on the part of any new spouse and to continue the provision for the children regardless of foolish fiscal finagling on the part of those who control the purse strings. We have allocated family members to take our boys should it be they who are left on this mortal coil. We have also allocated different people to be in control of the distribution of assets, life insurance policies and educational goals.

A plan. A focus. A future. Whether or not we anticipate, tomorrow will come and events will happen beyond our control. Or nothing will happen and we will both live long full lives enjoying each other every moment.

That's my hope, that's my deepest desire. If that's G-d's will, I would be completely ok with that. The whole "find somebody" scenario scares the hell out of me.

I'd rather stay single.

Little Hands

2007-06-29T22:17:00.000-07:00

Have you ever received a "back massage" given with hands too small to palm a softball? I have. They don't last long and relaxation is rarely the end result. Well, physically. Usually those very same little hands spend more time pinching than massaging, but well, when one is at the receiving end of compassion and pure service it is difficult to do anything but melt.

I realized today we are training husbands as I allow the boys opportunities to see me at not quite my best and my husband shows them how to respond kindly and gently. Even on bad days. Even when coping skills are as rare as a 3 headed goat. Even when there are no rational words or logical explanations. And I am learning to receive.

I told them today I look forward to seeing what kind of men they will become. I asked them what kind of men they would like to be. They giggled. Rolled their eyes and shuffled their feet. They are 7 and 9... As the chimenia poured sparks out the top they valiantly and purposefully rushed to defend me from the Heinous Ember. Without a conscious thought for their own safety. Very manly. Even if they can't see it.

I was content. I can see what kind of men they are becoming. Silly, affectionate, compassionate, independent, intelligent men. Now, if I could get a grip on discipline perhaps we could all grow up to be that too!

Tav Shabbos

Baseball is the game where they use bats, right?

2007-06-28T17:48:00.000-07:00

That's how sport's disinterested I can be. My Uncle LeRoy on the other hand? You even dare to diss his Denver Broncos and you might as well kiss you butt good-bye!

He's a Korean War vet, a bad-ass Montana cowboy and retired ironworker so when he gets "animated", starts stomping his boots and chompin' on his pipe you say, "Yes, Sir!"

Quickly.

Jennifer @ Diary of 1 is hosting a giveaway with her company TeamMascot.co m and if I enter this thingie, maybe I could win a coffee cup or somethin' for Uncle LeRoy.

Maybe that'll help him remember me and not mistake me for my 16 year old neice who got fat.... Well, she didn't get fat, but since he thought I was she, he said she got fat.... Does that make sense to anyone else?

Of course, he might appreciate a case of Keystone and a coffee cup. But you can't blame a girl for trying!

So, Jen, does this count?

Good Grief!

2007-06-28T12:26:00.000-07:00

I cringe sometimes when I write on here. Often I put up things that are "not pretty". Why? I believe it gives me credibility as a Genuine Human Being. If all I wrote were the good, grand and glorious without the comparison of those days which suck your will to live, it would be disingenuous and well, to be frank, nauseating. Those of us who live honestly understand we will have times of joy and times of pain. To everything there is a season, eh?

Life is pain, princess... How could we appreciate the times we are carried if we never allow ourselves to experience the pain when we have walked away from the Arms which keep us safe? Denying the pain we cause ourselves and other's is not the way to mature beyond it.

As the lines between my Real Life and my Blog Life have blurred I become more than a little uncomfortable when I share some of the memories, moments and life experiences that show the grime under the sparkly smile. Why do I still do it? Primarily because I want to. Secondarily because I truly hope to encourage anyone who pays attention. I write the dark, G-d saves the day. I write the good, G-d gets the glory.

For the record, and I hope my friends will attest to this, I am rarely dark and moody. I am, usually, a total goof ball with a few serious moments sprinkled in.

I know this is some sort of compensation for showing what's under the shell and trying to come to terms with over exposure.

Maybe I'm not as much of an exhibitionist as I think I am.

תודה רבה

2007-06-26T23:24:00.000-07:00

Being fairly terrible at receiving pretty much anything, all I can say is toda raba, thank you very much, for your compassionate responses to a few words written to capture a moment. I am amazed at the sweetness of the folks who wander through here on a regular basis.

Blessings to you all.

Where does my help come from?

2007-06-25T20:19:00.000-07:00

I am weak.

Despising frailty, I strive to overcome and endure. Ignoring limitations and refusing to concede to failure I press on. Determined. Focused. Flawed.

How did I end up here at the bottom of this pit? My face is pressed to the floor, I am gasping for air and clawing at bars which have constrained me far too long.

My voice is reduced to a frantic whisper, a choking, sobbing plea for salvation.

No one listens. No one hears.

Mindless platitudes and fragments of Scripture echo from memory incoherently offering reminders of faith and of hope. But all I can see are chains. Bars. Unattainable goals.

My Creator seems so far away, His voice silent. His presence achingly absent. His touch only a vague impression.

I am alone. Isolated in this misery I have created.

Only Grace can save me. Only Mercy can lift me up. In His time, in His way, He will hear me and I will be remade.

How long, O Lord? How long?

2007-06-21T16:32:00.001-07:00

One Suburban, 2 boys, 1 puppy, 2 tents, a canoe, a kayak/canoe hybrid, two tired grown ups, a kitchen that would make Emeril jealous and my Agatha Christie book.

Add firewood, camp chairs, chocolate, hot dogs. fishing poles,
graham crackers and french press coffee.

Mix gently with scenic lake, swim trunks and floaties.
Be sure not to forget dog in life jacket... (seriously)

Do not disturb for FOUR days.

Rest and relaxation to be had by all.

Results may vary.

See ya'll on Tuesday!

2007-06-20T21:32:00.001-07:00

It's been a weird day. There' s just no two ways about it. From the serial killer dream all the way to the book with (I would swear on this) a picture of MY dog in it. OK, not really my dog, but it sure as hell looked just like him!

Perhaps it was the heat, the lack of sleep, the pile of bills or the crazy out-law's but I have been unable to find Normal all day. "Is that unusual?" asks my precious reader.

No. But today was exceptional.

*clears throat*

I woke up tired. At 5:45. Sharp shooting pains in my stomach. Leftovers from that Other Thing I'm too polite to mention. Maybe. So, after the required trip to the "facilities" I toss and turn until 7:30 wandering in and out of the freakiest dream I've had in a while and thinking perhaps I should just get up and walk the dog.

Life goes on beautifully... We have 2 extra kids today, it's 94 degrees and humid ( I live in the high desert, we don't do humid) and I decide to take a walk at 12noon.... The kids have been fighting for 4 hours, we all get hot, fall down, find animal bones and I decided to wear flip-flops on a trail. A dirt trail with random piles of pine cones. I almost ruined my pedicure. I talk to my neighbor, the one who does tats out of his "side shed" off his single wide trailer and just recently came back after being mysteriously "Gone" for 2 years. He's got a few less teeth but I was flattered to hear that he still thinks I "look good". Yeah. Buh-bye! We rush off.

Upon returning home (I will refrain from pointing at my youngest because I truly have no one else to blame) somebody, some little person, TOOK A SHIT in the boys room. The literal Boys Room. As in a bedroom. A small shit, but a turd nonetheless. And then it got stepped in, on and spread around. No one will fess up to it and I get to clean the carpets. We're a ways past diapers. I'm not used to this. And in case anyone asks, I know it wasn't the dog... Trust me, I know!

We finished the night off by having dinner at our local Thai restaurant where I spilled everything I touched and after going to the grocery store and Goodwill to purchase a lovely pink thing with lace on it, we finally arrived to pick up the kids at VBS. Whereupon I took the small fleece bear made to match the bear sent to starving children in Somalia (moral support, at least they'll feel good about not having anything to eat or being murdered for their faith) promptly stuck it down the front of my tanktop and named it Cleveland.... Obvious joke here.

I was called "irreverent" which I still don't have a problem with and I do believe I may have scandalized someone. I apparently like that too much. Scandalizing folks that is, not having a fleece bear crammed down my shirt.

So, now it's 9:42 and I'm going to bed. And you should know... I left things out which were too personal and embarrassing even for me!

OH! My husband, bless his precious heart, EMBARRASSED ME by making a crude joke.

Moment of silence.

In 13 1/2 years of knowing and adoring him this has NEVER happened. I happen to possess the ability to out-crass almost anyone I know.

We are so proud.

2007-06-17T21:27:00.002-07:00

Giraffe recently posted a picture in which he mentioned me. How very thoughtful, huh? Well, it was a sheep in lingerie and pink heels... Yeah... Apparently the shoes were the connecting thought?

Well, I'm returning the favor. Just got these in an email and was reminded of the blogger from South Dakota.

The caption read:

Holy Cow! How'd ya like to look out on your deck and see those eyes looking back at ya?

This is from a guy out in Martin, S.D. Pictures taken from his kitchen onto his deck.

The cat was watching his little kids playing on the kitchen floor.

All I got to say about that is THANK G-D kitty wasn't hungrier during the day when the kids were probably making a snow fort. Who wants to take bets they stayed inside the rest of the winter?

2007-06-17T11:01:00.000-07:00

Happy Father's Day... Just because.

Because you cried when you held the babies for the first time and still somehow managed to look manly.

Because you have always been the first to mention devotions and you've taught them how to pray.

Because you work 15 hour days without complaining and still have time for "date night".

Because you took a 2 year old on errands and out to coffee so I could have a break.

Because you've never said you "babysit" your own children.

Because you decided a king size bed was necessary if only because there would then be room for all four of us to snuggle in the morning.

Because you are the first one to say "What's wrong?" and the last one to say "Suck it up!"

Because you treat me with respect and demand the boys do as well.

Because you think three commandos shooting darts at me in bed is a great idea for fun and wrestling in the living room is a serious sport.

Because you take very seriously the role you have in molding these precious little minds and raising up G-dly young men.

Because you've laid down dreams and ambitions so we could live together and raise our children.

Because you are the most amazing man I've ever known.

Happy Father's Day.

Just because.

2007-06-15T21:43:00.000-07:00

Jennifer at Diary of 1 has some very good things to say about the transformation of what has been previously viewed as horrible and now has become something better. I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment and truly, with all my heart, desire a positive solution to this problem of immigration. I did have issue with a few things her husband Chris said. I hope he is able to take my comments and debate in the spirit it is given. More than anything I want to find the truth of a thing. I don’t have any aspirations of changing his mind and I am willing to have my mind changed. So, without further ado….

Chris’ statements are italicized.

“Here in the states we should be grateful for the millions of illegal Mexicans in the US. Without their contributions it wouldn’t be so cheap when shopping the produce aisle or when checking into a Motel 6 on one of our quaint family vacations. But, all of this has cost us something. To gain such niceties, we have been required to look the other way and in so doing, we have changed the whole of America’s economic underpinnings. While we have gained from the labors of these people we have also become dependent upon them. What keeps them going at such a pace of humility and low income is the fact that they are illegal.”

Grateful? According to the Federation for American Immigration Reform the presence of illegal aliens costs us over 9 BILLION a year. The influx of mass quantities of people who rely on government subsidies, food and medical care has done NOTHING to improve my standard of living. Rather we, nationally, pay over 7.7 billion to educate their children. The next two largest expenses are medical care for illegal immigrants and incarceration of those who have committed crimes. Well, those who have committed crimes and were kept State-side and not deported.

Deporting ONE person costs the taxpayer roughly $1000.00. Which makes the total cost of deporting 20 million people right around 205 billion. Since we are already conservatively paying 16 billion a year to keep them here, we could pay up front and remove those who are leeching on our society. Or we could just let it go forever, spending billions annually while doing nothing.

Amnesty only gives credibility to those who are already here and does nothing to stem the flood of illegal immigrants who would continue to arrive van load by boat load by storage container load.

Let’s say we do legalize illegals over the next 5 years. We pay 205 billion dollars for the privilege and what happens to the 20 million more who have since come across our borders and are waiting their turn? Do we turn around and pay another 205 billion? That’s 410 billion in 10 years. Out of our pockets. They sure aren't going to be paying for it. Why should they? They haven't paid for jack since they got here anyway!

I can more readily afford a higher price at the grocery story and hotel than a price tag like that.

While we have gained from the labors of these people we have also become dependent upon them.

What have we gained? Before they were here those “menial” tasks were done by decent hardworking folks. By Americans. My grandparents brought their five children from the dust bowl of Oklahoma during the Great Depression lived in a tent while they, as a family, picked strawberries and other fruit in the fields of the Willamette Valley. My great-grandparents came over on a cattle boat from Ukraine during the Bolshevik uprising and took any job they needed to in order to provide for their children. Grandpa spoke very little English but I don’t know that he took a day off in 50 years so that his NINE children could grow up, go to college and become bona fide productive Americans. Families in the small farming community where I grew up in rural Montana picked weeds in sugar beet fields, worked the local grocery store and provided the maintenance staff for the schools and museums. Until the illegals came in and because their labor was “more easily attained”, they “didn’t complain about harsh conditions” and left after the season poor families who relied on these jobs were forced to turn to welfare. Gracias, Juan Pablo. I’ve worked as the maid in the hotel (you know, keeping those costs down) and the field worker. I was grateful for every penny I earned. And I damn sure paid the taxes on it.

There’s the difference.

The money I earn goes back into the economy of our fair country. Their’s doesn’t. It goes back to the homeland and falsely inflates their economy while draining ours. And yet, continue to maintain a presence costing us billions a year. Fiscally it simply Doesn’t. Make. Sense.

What keeps them going at such a pace of humility and low income is the fact that they are illegal.”

Wrong. They have money. They choose to live the way they are when they come to our country solely to work. They choose to live the way they do when they are running drugs into and through our communities. They choose to live the way they do by not conceding or acknowledging the sovereignty of our nation.

What keeps them where they are is that they are UNWILLING to take the steps to enter our country through legal means and live productively as AMERICAN citizens. Immigration is at an all time high of 56%! This is higher than any other time in history and yet, somehow, these folks must come through illegally.

We, the people, need to catch a freakin’ clue. Illegal aliens don’t want to be in our country. They want their country to take over ours. It’s Cubans in Miami, Puerto Ricans in Jersey, Ali Baba and his 40 cousins in Detroit and Juan Pablo in the South, the West and the Pacific Northwest.

Amnesty will not solve this problem. In fact, amnesty is simply a clarion call saying we, the USA, have acquiesced to the bullying tactics of a mob under some misguided sense of compassion. Do you honestly think this will do anything to staunch the flow of illegal traffic? We go tits up as a country and show our soft little underbelly to the world and they say, “Oh! They are so nice now! We should really be more legal now!”

Right…

If a man comes into your house, sets up camp in your kitchen and eats 45% of the food out of the fridge before you can feed your children what kind of a responsible person would you be if you allowed him to stay at the expense of your household and the future of your children?

Illegal migration is a cancer to our country.

Legalizing one of our most vital workforces will not fix America’s social woes, but it will be a damn good shot in the arm. I believe in simple principals, hold up and reward those things you admire and respect so that they prosper, and be agents of change for others. To continue to deny working illegals citizenship is to deny the fiber of who they are and what America once stood for - humility, hard work and a fair wage.

I don’t think illegal aliens are our most vital workforce. I think honest, hardworking Americans who have strong families, work to improve their communities and work diligently toward a better nation comprise our most vital workforce. I think millions of highschool kids who can’t find work in the service industry due to the glut of illegal immigrants are done a disservice. I have had 6 kids in the last 2 years tell me how hard it is for them to enter the work force. Entry level jobs are simply no longer available. That’s just plain wrong.

America doesn’t stand for humility, hard work and a fair wage. Never has. America stands for something far greater.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their Creator, with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.

That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.

We are a country founded upon freedom. Of religion, speech, press and peaceable assembly. Freedom to keep and bear arms. Freedom to not quarter troops. Free to be protected from unlawful search and seizure. Free to enjoy due process, freedom from double jeopardy, self-incrimination and free to enjoy our private property. We are given the right to trial by jury and the accused does, indeed, have rights. We are given the privilege of civil trial. We are given independent rights as states and people OUTSIDE the powers of the national government.

We have these rights because we are citizens! We are citizens whether born here or by following the processes, as flawed as they may be, required by our sovereign nation. If my neighbor comes here illegally, I don’t want him here. What other laws is he willing to break if this barest minimum is so easily ignored? However, if he willingly goes through the proper channels, gets a green card and works legally? I’ll give him the shirt off my back in order to help him get established.

That’s what my grandparents did. That’s what my family has done. That’s what my family is doing as we are working to help a young man and his family move here from Germany.

That's what America is based on. Not folks who are willing to sneak in, lie low and bleed us dry.

2007-06-14T12:57:00.000-07:00

Why I think Fred Thompson is viable and other points of Great Importance.

Firstly, Fred Thompson has the status of "celebrity" firmly in hand. This means all his money can be spent on things other than making the "household name". Secondly, he looks presidential. Tall, distinguished, well-spoken. Lovely speaking voice. And finally, the American sheeple are not really interested in electing a leader as much as they are interested in finding someone who makes them look good and leave them the hell alone. Unless of course there is a government program of which they can avail themselves.

Secondly, immigration is one loud grating nails on the chalkboard type subject, isn't it? I am uncomfortable with the way this whole issue is panning out. Mostly because I live in Oregon and that means Juan Valdez and his entire illegal family have more rights/freedoms than I do. They don't have to pay taxes, show proof of identity or work. All they have to do is sneak in, live under the radar and avail themselves of the free money, food, drivers license and all the little blond American girlies they can rape and abduct in a 24 hour period. Now, I know that doesn't sound very nice but listen to the news for a few days. How many criminals have the last name "Gonzalez", "Gutierrez", "de la" whatever. First names, Juan, Pablo, Guillermo, Maria.... How many of them are little brown people looking terribly strung out.

Does it make me a bigot because I dared to actually pay attention and notice the folks we've been told are clean, hard working "just want to make a decent living for Mama and send it back to Chipotle" or wherever seem to be scarce. As in where the hell?

Anyone who feels completely justified in beginning something illegally will have no qualms continuing to live that life by whatever means necessary. Legality means nothing. Besides, they'll get dumped in Mexicali, wait a few days and swim right back.

Boomerangs.

And don't even get me started on having to say "permiso" to the abuela at the store who is there with her 14 children and Will Not move out of my way although I am fairly certain a white woman saying "excuse me" TWELVE times is easily understood. But I say "permiso" and the crowd parts. Practically miraculous.

Do I feel some animosity? Why, yes. Yes I do. This is MY country. These are MY taxes paying for her chorizo and tripe. This is MY ER in MY town where I can't get decent medical care because Roberto broke a toe at his under the table construction job and his entire FAMILY is at the ER with him and the wait is now 4 hours long. No, really, it's just a concussion. I'll just lie down over here and go to sleep while I'm waiting for you to get that government mandated translator to communicate to all of them what all their options are. Just hand me the check when you are finished with the El Dorito family.

I have met and been friends with wonderful people whose lineage was south of the border. Their cultural heritage was fun, enjoyable. They were an asset to any community they chose to be a part of. But they were Americans first who happened to at one time be from another place. They assimilated into a new culture. They became part of who we are as a country. They make us stronger.

So, when I see these families, 3 families to a car, 4 families to an apartment, pregnant 15 year olds and shawl covered grandmothers I get testy. When their ill-mannered and belligerent progeny sprawl over the playgrounds and tag every available flat surface I get downright pissed.

I don't care if you are Algerian, Canadian, Uzbekistani or Guatamalen. You freakin' dare to come to MY country do it the right way. Become one of us or go the hell home. You learn MY language, you live by MY laws and you suck it up and concede you are the new guy here. You accomodate me and mine. Period.

Because if you are really interested in America and the opportunities our sons and daughters have bled and died for you'll do whatever it takes to make it happen. If you're just looking for handouts, drug mules and "brothas" you better get marching.

We're done. And you need to be gone.

Nobody's restaurants, landscaping, construction skills are that good.

2007-06-13T20:48:00.000-07:00

Today I went riding. Lots of dust, lots of quick turns and one pooped out boxer puppy. I am either invigorated or tired. I'm flexible. I can be both.

Getting home 45 minutes earlier than I was planning to I found the Mr. and the boys weren't home and I felt a bit discombobulated (is that a real word? My aunt Jenny used it). I decided to wander around our end of town to find them. I crated the dog who could barely move out of sheer, played out exhaustion, I jumped in my truck and drove down 3rd street. I cruised through the Goodwill parking lot and blazed past Wendy's where, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Suburban. It's hard to miss. I pulled a u-turn at Mazatlan and drove back.

We are between cell services for this week and therefore I couldn't just call. I had no idea how much I would enjoy not having a cell phone for a week. Or how much I would miss randomly calling the Mr. just 'cuz. We do that a lot. Stalk each other. I think it's one of our secrets to happiness in marriage.

I walk into Wendy's and scan the room for one tall, dark and handsome man and two extraordinarily adorable boys. Ah! There they were. Standing at the counter. A grumpy senior citizen in front of them, a young black man (looked to be a recent transplant from East LA) behind them. They didn't see me.

So, I sneak up behind this extremely handsome dark haired man and grab him by the hips while saying huskily in his ear "Whatcha gonna buy me?"

I thought he was going to drop a load in his shorts. Or break my face. It was a very tense 1.7 seconds. Then he saw me and said, "I can't tell you right now what I thought just happened."

He ordered his food and while I waited for 2 burgers, fries and a bruschetta sandwich to come up a light came on.

He thought I was Mr. East LA grabbing him from behind.

I'm still laughing. Him? Not so much.

2007-06-13T10:19:00.000-07:00

Feelings. Nothing more than feelings…. Faith based on feelings isn’t worth any more than the emotion driving it.

Those of us who live lives based upon Feelings are cyclical and fragile creatures. Wandering about in a quagmire of expectation, hope and defeatism. Sometimes overcoming. Sometimes succeeding. Sometimes failing. Often we spend our lives somewhere in the midst of not quite triumph and not quite failure. We manage.

We manage to suck it up and drive ourselves into a frenzy of overcompensating. Earnestly seeking that Thing which once again propels our emotions into a state which supports where we believe we ought to be.

Which is?

Strength! Purpose! Hope! Success! We are to be un-stoppable Christians who overcome against any and all odds. G-d alone could stop us. And even then stopping isn’t of G-d so why would we even consider a caution to halt.

Many of us truly expect we should live there as the culmination of spiritual maturity and focused faith. Well, many of us do. I don’t.

We have all had moments with G-d when He touches our hearts and we are compelled by passion and desire to do all we can to please Him. I believe that does please Him. What I don’t believe is our passion pleases Him more than our obedience when we don’t feel like it.

Saul was admonished by Samuel to remember “G-d honors obedience over sacrifice.”

And the anti-thesis of emotion driven faith is what? Logic driven faith.

A faith which only functions when all the lines are drawn, t’s crossed and those pesky ducks lie quietly in a row. A faith dictating we will not pray a prayer which makes no sense in the face of incomprehensible situations. A faith of numbers, algorithms and quantifiable formulae. A faith denying passion. A faith defeated by situations which are neither understood easily nor tidily compartmentalized.

So, who wins? Because it’s always all about winning and coming out on top, isn’t it?

Many times we allow our faith to be led by our personality. If you are more emotionally driven you will be naturally led to a faith that “feels” right. If you are more choleric you may seek faith that “adds up”.

It is fairly incredible to me how we have, as the Body, segregated ourselves into our little boxes. The “I feel therefore I am” camp at war with the “I think therefore I am” camp. Does it ever occur to us how very much we need each other? I will take my study and you will take your passion and together G-d will use us to set the world on fire.

But instead, we thrive in our own pleasant denominations, our Christian colleges, our Spirit Filled Power Services, our Revivals. Comfortably divided one from another.

Or perhaps we take the road less traveled and decide that fellowship of any kind is suspect. We’ve been down that road before and we aren’t going to allow ourselves to be hurt by the men around us any longer. Or so we say. As we hurt ourselves in isolation. Standing on the outside shouting our observations means very little to those who stand on the inside bearing the weight of spiritual responsibility.

Our faith. Is it defined by what we feel or what we believe? Is our faith quantifiable by easily gathered data? Can we give a defense of our faith without descending into childish name calling?

G-d commands us to fellowship with each other. In fact, in several instances in Scripture the only way one was “allowed” to leave the fellowship of their spiritual community was when they had given themselves to a state of unrepentant sin or divisiveness. The punishment for these choices is being “cast out”. This tells me we are to stay in fellowship, within the structure G-d has set forth through generations, even at enormous personal cost. Until we are released to go. Never before. The call is to endure. Not run away.

Does I mean to say you stay at the church where you have been abused? Not necessarily. It is important for you to have honestly and earnestly sought G-d . If He said “Stay” there should be nothing that could make you leave. If He releases you to go, then go. Although it should never be easy to leave a body of believers.

If you walk away from a congregation, find another. We should always purposefully and actively seek the fellowship of other believers. We need each other. Followers of Christ, redeemed brothers and sisters, we are herd animals. There are no Lone Ranger believers. There are, however, many rebellious, hard hearted and prideful outsiders who find no greater joy than proclaiming the weaknesses of their fellow believers to the world while refusing to shoulder the burden of serving one another in humility, bearing with one another in weakness and believing the best. Allowing Love to cover a multitude of sins.

You know, living like Yeshua. The One who brought salvation. The most Passionate. The Most Faithful. The Most Confident. The Most Competent to offer a sound defense of Faith. The One who gave of Himself willingly even to the point of death so we, those who follow behind, could know His Father.

That’s how we ought to live. With our whole heart. With our whole mind. With our whole strength. With our whole being.

For Him, by Him, through Him and because of Him.

2007-06-11T17:51:00.000-07:00

Did you know Michael W. Smith started a church? I didn't. New River Fellowship. Nashville, Tennessee. Didn't know that until this last Saturday as I sat at a local mexican restaurant discussing immigration reform, Fred Thompson and our need for the waiter to actually come take the freakin' order.

Very interesting conversation was had by all. We met some new folks who are returning to Central Oregon from Nashville where they are attending the aforementioned New River Fellowship. Interestingly enough, the church seems to be full of young single women. Odd. Whodathunkit?

As we parted ways my brilliant and loveable husband suggests they should "read Heidi's blog". I wanted to disappear a little. Ya'll remember what I wrote on Friday? Yeah.... And then to top it off? He's an editor. Right, like I need that kind of pressure when I'm writing out my deep, philosophical, slightly vulgar comments on life. Uh huh.

Just wanted to let you know that life is indeed sometimes stranger than fiction.

2007-06-08T17:45:00.000-07:00

When someone tells me Christians should put their children in education so that other children can "see Jesus" I often wonder.

"Do you truly believe this is the only way our children can be light to unbelievers?" And if so, "How pathetic are we?"

Saw some Michael W. Smith Live In Concert. He embarrasses me. In that vicarious "we are all Christians" weird cousin sort of way. Lyrics: "You and me" mumble mumble passionate declaration head toss. "Me" *pounds chest* "and you" *gestures expansively at adoring middle aged chubby patronesses in the front row as they swoon in their Lane Bryant and short little middle aged hair do's. Is that really cool or am I just seriously out of the CCM loop. Seems a conflict of interest to attempt to "sing to worship G-d" while writing music to please the masses.

Heading off to the rodeo. In honor of the event the Mr. has deigned to wear a cowboy (ok Aussie) hat. He modeled it whilst wearing only a towel and the hat. Damn! Seeing as he's 95% Territory Ahead, Banana Republic, Patagonia dirtbag and 5% Ralph Lauren it was odd to see him in cowboy get up of any kind.

Change is good.

Dollars are better.

C-notes are best.

I'm wearing jeans, a psychedelic headscarf, grey designer sweater and Born wedge shoes. I plan to stick out.

Or compete for rodeo clown.

Tomorrow I overscheduled myself. Again.

I have a crush on Sam Elliot. Look him up. His voice gives me goosebumps. And I love the sideways look. Yummy.

Grey hair is sexy.

Saw a red muscle car today. Shiny chrome, perfect finish, black leather interior.

I ogled. I love cars. Especially cars that rumble and purr.

MWAH! Have a great weekend!

2007-06-06T21:52:00.000-07:00

If you touch me I freeze. Cold. Still as a statue. My heart will constrict, my chest will hurt and I will have to consciously try to breathe.

I can hear your words, I can find nice little words that tumble out of nervous lips. A brittle smile will travel across my face. Never quite touching my eyes.

You will never know it.

There have been only 2 men in my life with whom I have been instantly at ease. I married one of them. I knew I could trust him from the first time he sat next to me and I didn't instantly pull away to form my literal two foot personal space. I knew. To this day the barest touch from him melts me. No matter where I am. He knows it. He knows the blessing it is to me. The only woman I've ever been completely comfortable with is my mother.

Words, dialogue, witty repartee are safe for me. I can indulge and engage in them wholeheartedly. My brain is safe. My words are my spirit on display. And yet, my body has never been quite my own. There is a disconnect which baffles me in it's irrationality and complete pervasiveness.

Most days are good. Most of the time I can take these Issues and compartmentalize. A hug is not a personal trespass, a compliment is not a manipulation to cause me to lower my defenses. I know this. And yet I don't. It takes months to allow even dear friends into that two foot barrier. A barrier which both protects and isolates me.

This is what life often is for me, an adult survivor of sexual abuse. Six years which I will never get over, get past, forget. This is something which has permeated every fiber, every molecule of my soul. A sub-routine playing quietly until I am weak, tired, overwhelmed or enticed then bursting out of the darkness to play havoc once again.

I know who I am. I know my limitations. I am familiar with this fear.

Do you know where G-d has shown the most grace to me? I am no longer defined by "angry". I am no longer consumed by bitterness. I am no longer a mindless slave to memory or premonition.

I am free if not yet completely transformed. Within me lies a broken woman who will not "rise up and walk" until I stand before my G-d. I am trying to be at peace with this truth.

We live our lives in process. We travel from crisis to coping to triumph to solitude and back around again. Your pain will be your pain. It is the weight G-d knows you are capable of bearing and He offers us all the strength we need. We grow not from avoiding the pain we have experienced living in a broken and fallen world but from embracing a G-d who can turn ashes into beauty and mourning into the oil of joy. A miracle He performs while we are yet broken, damaged and fragile.

I am confident He is good enough for me. He carries me every day.

But if, perhaps, we should meet, don't be surprised if I don't even shake your hand. In heaven there will be great rejoicing and my freedom will be surpassed only by my gratitude. Then we will all, with open hearts and eager hands embrace one another in the love G-d intended to be shown from one redeemed child to another.

Until then? I walk carefully around the tender places and hope for yet one more day of healing. One more day of restoration. One more day without freezing.

2007-06-06T09:41:00.000-07:00

10 Reasons I'm Not a Feminist

1. I like to shave my armpits

2. I'm not afraid of men.

3. I believe the womb should be a safe place.

4. Lipstick is my friend

5. Getting my own way is a nice benefit, not a mandate for my existence.

6. I'm not a lesbian. Closet or otherwise.

7. I believe G-d created men and women as different beings on purpose

8. I believe human beings are intelligent creatures and able to make their own choices even if their genitalia is different from mine.

9. I think women in the military and politics are 99.9% a hazard and .01% beneficial.

10. Hillary Clinton is not my heroine. Although she does tempt me to entertain the thought of heroin...

Just in case you were wondering...

2007-06-04T19:53:00.000-07:00

Putting the Shoe on the Other Foot

Now that I've offended everyone who sends their children to public school I thought I should offend everyone who homeschools. I do like to be fair although I am quite sarcastic. What can I say, it's a gift! :)

I am not a fan of Sally Ann Average homeschool mom as she wanders in with her denim jumper and blatantly disregards all but her precious little darlings. She shows up late to everything, criticizes everyone and lets her progeny do "whatever they want" since their Delight directed education style has opened the door to life led by rugrats. Her children are dirty and always unkept. Their complete lack of social skills is touted as individuality and independence. My request for quiet and respect are viewed as judgmental and harsh.

Hell, she's at MY HOUSE! I thought I could make such a request and it would be fine. Apparently not. And don't even get me started on the lady who THREW my cat across the room!

When Bobby punches my son in the nose it must have been because I don't spend 5 hours a day crafting the Word of G-d into our scrapbook. When my son doesn't meet the standard of hers I am obviously "not serious" about educating my children. When my children wear name brands and clothes that fit I'm materialistic and confining them to a societal pressure to impress others.

Sally Ann is the scourge of every children's program imaginable. She must be involved in everything that her children are in and thusly decides she should be the Sunday School teacher, Children's church coordinator and Youth leader. Because no one EVER can speak into her child's life the way she should.

The TV in my living room is a blatant sin and the HORRAH of it all when she realizes my children play *shhhh* video games that aren't educational.

Don't even get me started on the Homeschooler Meetings.

I won't go. Now. I used to go. I show up in blue jeans, red striped hair, lipstick and jewelry. While I am never the thinnest woman in the room, not by a long shot, I am assuredly not the heaviest. 9 times out of 10 I am the only with painted toenails and eyeliner... Obviously I'm a carnal Christian who is both vain and shallow.

To make matters worse I don't give a rat's ass about scrapbooking, needlepoint, Civil war balls or discussing every curriculum known to man. I'm not up on the latest lingo or "teaching styles". I don't write my own curriculum using quill pins and ink we made from dryer lint and june bug guts.

Obviously I don't fit in. To add insult to injury there is nothing like showing up at a meeting where the very aroma of my perfume is an affront to her organically enhanced olfactory senses. And folks, I wear Chanel. None of that Walmart toilet water for me. (caveat to Birdie who truly does suffer from sensory issues, I would wear only spring water and daisy chains should we perchance get a chance to meet! :) Um.. And clothes...)

Jason, Knightshadow, Peanut ya'll know me. Am I unfriendly? Am I difficult to engage? Am I boring? Tedious? Elitist or Superior? Do I smell bad? (don't answer that) Am I weird? Are my kids freaks???

We. Don't. Fit. In.

Sums it up.

There are those who choose to home educate and there are Home Schoolers.

I apologize to any of you who home educate and may have taken affront at my remarks. I only intended to smartly reprimand any of you who might just be Home Schoolers.

So.

Let the stoning begin.

2007-06-03T16:14:00.000-07:00

The air is languid. Still. Punctuated only by the clicking of my keyboard and the faint rumblings from the stereo in the living room. Thick grey clouds overhead give a warning of rain showers to come.

It's Sunday afternoon. I'm heading over BBQ with friends. Looking ahead to this week I see no slow down in sight. Perhaps this is just the New Normal.

2007-05-31T22:18:00.000-07:00

If you want something done right...

Information. That's all I asked for. Since I didn't get much I figured I'd do my own research.

Reasons to place your children in the public school system...

Better education? No.

In an independent study it was discovered that homeschooled white children (8th grade) tested in the 84th percentile in math while minorities scored in the 77th percentile. The same age range public school children had the white children scoring in the 58th percentile (for reading) and 57th for math. Minorities scoring in the 24th-28th (depending on ethnicity) in math and in the 28th for reading.

Perhaps public education is "less expensive"?

Again. No.

National averages specify the cost to publically educate a child is $5,325. A national average for homeschool? $546.00 That's far more than I spend, that's for sure!!!! In Oregon, the average yearly cost for ONE child is upwards of $11,000. What I could do with $22,000 to put toward my children. Unfortunately, whether or not I utilize the services of the Dept of Ed. I do pay for it. Another post for another day...

Incomprehensibly to most liberals, although homeschoolers spend a fraction of what is considered "woefully inadequate" according to the latest levy, homeschooled students test in the 85th percentile, as opposed to the averages of public schooled children who test in the 50th.

Is public education superior in socialization?

Well, it depends on how you define socialization. Oregon State Education defines it as "the process by which culture is learned; also called enculturation. During socialization individuals internalize a culture's social controls, along with values and norms about right and wrong." If you really want your child to "internalize" our cultures "social controls" be my guest. Not what I want. Certainly not. I would rather have my children influenced by their parents first, their extended family and spiritual community second and by carefully selected friends and companions until such a time as they are able to responsibly make those decisions for themselves.

Theodore Roosevelt once said, "To educate a man in mind and not in morals is to create a menace to society." However, secular humanism and evolution have defiantly replaced moral direction according to Judeo-Christian values. Survival of the fittest, peer pressure and coping mechanisms are the primary goals of most children in the school system. Those with whom your children spend 36-54 hours a week will become their primary influence. It's just basic math and logic.

Sports? Perhaps the sports are better... Hm. On a purely anecdotal note, it is seems to me, as I see all these specialized clinics, personal trainers, intramural sports and local leagues that perhaps the public school system offers something, but falls short. At this point that doesn't surprise me anymore.

The arts? Again, not so much, huh?

Maybe you see something different but I see the elimination of these types of programs in school districts all over the nation. Every parent I know of whether a homeschooler or public school parent are sending their children to private lessons, tutors, etc.

Better trained teachers?

Consider that 25% of PUBLIC SCHOOL teachers are choosing to home educate or privately educate their own children. I think that makes for a tough sell. When you can utilize ready made curriculum with DVD instruction by "trained professionals", have routine standardized testing and follow the "national guidelines" explain to me again why I should put my boys in a place to meet the next LeTourneau or Trench Coat Mafia?

So, why is it important to know these things? Who really cares about the facts?

I do.

When I am given the opportunity to explain or defendmy choice to home educate my children spirituality and emotionalism carry very little weight. Especially among non-believers. You know, the people who consistently tell me how "lucky" I am to have such pleasant children? The one's with whom I rub shoulders at the store, the park, the concert. While I'm out there being "light". Doesn't carry much weight among believers either. Too subjective.

When I am asked about homeschooling, as I am frequently, it is much more beneficial for me to talk about impersonal facts than share a testimonial for 20 minutes. I don't believe anyone should participate in an endeavor of this magnitude without as much information as possible to make the strongest decision they are able to make. They need to define and defend if necessary the choice they made. My life story is irrelevant to their decision.

The numbers matter. The information matters. My witness matters. My determination to follow the "road less traveled" regardless of public opinion matters.

Coming off as some touch-y feel-y nut job who screams platitudes, bible verses and tear jerking stories matters. Why? It matters because it does my children a disservice and reflects poorly upon the provision G-d has shown us. A disservice because it devalues the lifestyle they are living. A lifestyle over which they have very little say. It reflects poorly upon G-d's provision because hysteria implies a lack of faith and conviction. Do I believe He's called me here to do this task or not? Calm debate, reasoned discussion, intelligent discourse glorify Him.

I believe home education is superior. I believe it is a safer environment for your children and mine. I truly do. I will happily and sincerely share this belief with anyone who asks while at the same time offering to do everything I can to support whatever decision they may make. I don't have to agree with every aspect of my friends lives in order to respect their freedom to make independent choices and live differently from myself.

But I've already said that 145 different ways already. I don't suppose it matters if anyone believes me or not. My belief may challenge your status quo. Good. I'm ok with that. When iron sharpens iron sometimes sparks fly.

There is a greater witness in a civil disagreement than everyone head bobbing and goosestepping into the party line. There is a greater witness from gracious responses, humility and learning from one another than being Right at any cost.

A Greater Witness. Only one of the many specialized and personalized classes I offer in my homeschool. You won't find that at any government run education center in the US.

That's for sure.

2007-05-30T08:23:00.001-07:00

Throwing down the gauntlet

Since I'm not quite ready to let this whole homeschool "debate" die, here's a challenge.

I'm asking you, the nebulous and unseen "you", to defend public school. Not public school when you were in school, not public school 10 years ago. Public education NOW.

Define it, defend it and support it. Provide data, statistics and "cold hard facts". Experiential testimony is subjective and while enjoyable is often so completely relative it is impossible to base a decision upon.

Fellow homeschoolers, think outside our box and come up with a positive or two about public schooling.

I'll be surprised of the thread goes over 3 before spiraling downward into emotionalism.

Surprise me.

2007-05-28T17:50:00.000-07:00

The hardest requirement in scripture, in my opinion, is this...

I Corinthians 13:7b Love "believes all things"

This is found among the list of other incredibly difficult things which Love does, in fact, do. What does this particular mandate mean? Some translations read it as "always trusts", "never loses faith" and "loyal" but my personal favorite is this one "believes the best". The word means to "to trust, have confidence, and be confident".

In my quest for understanding, this is what I have come to believe.

"Believing the best" means choosing to love someone although that person speaks in a way which you don't understand. It is choosing to respond to what is required if you say you are a believer and as such you commit to the Word of G-d. Even if you neither "feel" it nor understand why. "Now the purpose of the commandment (Torah) is love from a pure heart, from a good conscience, and from sincere faith." 1 Timothy 1:5

You make the choice to believe the intent of a fellow believer is for your good and not for your downfall or humiliation. It's up to you.

When challenged, where do your reactions come from?

Love?

Really?

The Word is very clear about how that looks.

Love is loyal, trusting, hopeful, not easily provoked, not given to slander and name calling. Love responds well even when the other party does not. Love searches for common ground and is eager to find the truth. Love doesn't keep a tally sheet of all offenses offered against it. Real or imagined. Love remains kind and patient. Love encourages and informs. Doesn't condescend and belittle. Love doesn't react. Love responds.

These are those things which should inspire us, convict us and point us in the right direction when we discuss the issues of life and spirituality. Love believes the best. That's what Love looks like. And it is either clearly seen or blatantly absent. As a little leaven spreads through the whole lump of dough, so a little bitterness poisons the most well-intentioned of responses.

We can live entire lives choosing to be offended by our perception of the behavior of the men and women around us. We can isolate ourselves and blockade the doors to our heart and our purpose. We can stand proudly in our ivory towers being right and self-righteous. And we will do it all alone.

But that's not the Kingdom of G-d. The Kingdom is about iron sharpening iron and bearing one another's burdens. The Kingdom is about standing for truth and refusing to allow your brother or sister to walk in darkness. No matter what it costs you personally. Regardless of whether or not they choose to hear you. The Kingdom is about humility and servitude to G-d and to each other. The Kingdom is about taking G-d seriously and me lightly. The Kingdom is about transformation and living in such a way as to bring honor and glory to our Father. The Kingdom is about community and an eternal hope. A Hope first to the Jews and then the entire world through the sacrifice of Yeshua, G-d as man, G-d as Living Sacrifice, G-d as Eternal Redeemer. G-d.

So, the next time you find yourself with hackles raised and hands poised over the keyboard to offer the stern and indignant response to the latest incomprehensible thing you read, I would just ask you to remember this. Are you talking to a fellow believer? Does your response follow the criteria of believing the best? Of loyalty and hope? If not? It might just be a good idea to take it down a notch, ask for clarification on the issue and *gasp* learn something. Build a bridge. Make a friend.

Or you can stay there throwing burning arrows into your own camp.

Just as long as you maintain your superior position of being right.

At least we'll all know what's most important to you.

2007-05-26T07:24:00.001-07:00

This is homeschool.

The first thing I taught my boys was the sound of my voice. They couldn't see me and they had such a teeny little living space with nothing but time. So, I talked and sang to them while they wiggled and rolled and danced on my bladder.

Then in December, for both boys, I taught them to nurse and together we worked on learning to orchestrate times to eat, times to sleep and times to interact.

At about 6 months I taught them to eat mashed carrots and corn. The first boy would eat anything I placed in front of him, the second wouldn't eat baby food and I experienced a "teacher upgrade" as I had to learn to make "homemade baby food" in order to further his learning experience.

My husband and I taught them to stand, to crawl, to walk. We enjoyed most moments with them as their little personalities emerged. One boy's personality is steady and jovial, the other more spontaneous and emotional.

We taught them to use rudimentary sign language and then to speak. Every day a new adventure, every moment a thousand new synapses exploded and information downloaded itself into a spongy little cortex.

By the time they were three we had taught them when and where to go potty, to pick up toys and to recognize colors and shapes. They relied on us and trusted us to be available to answer the never-ending "why", to wipe their snotty little noses and stop everything sometimes and wrestle on the floor or snuggle on the couch.

We have taught and are teaching them to read and to write. We open to them the wonders of the world one little piece at a time. We share with them the mysteries of G-d as we know them. Together we discuss life and hope for wisdom and insight.

This is homeschool.

As they've grown and changed their needs have also grown and changed. Life goes on and education never ceases. I want to be there for them. I don't want to miss a moment. These are my children. This is my life. This is my future.

When I was a child I had 5 older siblings who taught me all the time. Mike taught me to be responsible. Julie taught me to be gracious. Roxi taught me to laugh. Joel taught me to be gentle and Billy taught me to play Army and how to be the hostage. I taught myself how to escape! Not every lesson took at the time, but seeds were planted. My boys teach each other. I may have to wait a while to find out exactly which lessons they learned.

My children will grow up. Someday they will be men. My 9 year old is only a few inches shorter than I am and every day we must compare to determine the larger hand. It won't be long before I lose. I don't have tomorrow to instill in them the character and the knowledge I believe they will need to be prepared for life. I only have today.

As they get older we will teach them about intimacy and love. We will teach them about relationships and romance. We will teach them about the weight of a man's word and their duty to serve and protect whomever G-d has given them. Until then we will do our best to model to them what we believe that is to look like in the home of those who follow Yeshua.

We will be available to teach them when they become husbands and fathers. We look forward to the day G-d gives us daughters.

All along the way we weave threads of science, math, reading, writing and history. All along the way we weave life's lessons. All of us teaching the others. From the very beginning, they have taught me to love, to savor the day, to laugh without concern for who's watching. They've taught me to always ask "why" and to allow for an occasional melt-down. One of them taught me just the other day that I should always offer to pray for my friends when words fail.

So, I suppose it's safe to say that in this classroom we teach each other.

That, my friends, is homeschool. So, despite what your belief system may be, tell me who doesn't "homeschool"? The only difference between us is I also choose to be responsible for the academic education of my children and I refuse to share the blessed weight of their needs with anyone who does not share our faith, our conviction and our desire for their future.

I have taught them from the moment I first knew of their existence. My prayer is I will continue to teach them until the last moments of mine.

2007-05-25T10:33:00.000-07:00

An open letter to Rick

Rick,

First I must apologize. The Jello remark was uncalled for and completely unkind. I am sorry for being petty and ask for your forgiveness.

As an explanation, but in no way an excuse, I would like to take a few moments and clarify my position and perhaps give insight into this discussion. You have made some heady accusations about my personal state of being as you have called my behavior “arrogant”, challenged my freedom to express a strongly held personal conviction and accused me of being the type of person who drives unbelievers away from the Lord. You have said I “live in fear” and hate the world. Apparently, when you speak of “world” you mean the persons for whom Yeshua came to save.

Harsh statements.

Those are serious claims. To me. Foundational claims. Personal claims. They tend to generate a defensive posture which in turn can create a hostile atmosphere. That is neither my intent nor is it my heart’s desire for this blog and our interaction.

However, Rick, I am compelled to respond to your most recent comment. After this I will do my best to refrain from the dialogue as it has ceased to become productive.

Firstly, I don’t understand how you can come to the conclusions you have while absorbing the same information I am both reading and presenting. Certainly there are many of us who believe strongly homeschooling is important and vital. Because we believe so strongly about it, we think everyone should enjoy the blessing and privilege we enjoy. Yes, Farmer Tom’s comment is strong. Last time I checked we were still free to say those things. Would you rather have a friend who speaks strongly and believes passionately about the life they’ve been given or a friend who waffles on every subject and changes his mind at the drop of a hat? I am absolutely captivated by G-dly conviction and the expression thereof. Even if the zeal outweighs the wisdom. :) (not that I believe Farmer’s statement was without wisdom.. .just sayin’)

I wrote plainly I have a friend who sent her children to public school and I support her. I didn’t make that up for a clever sound bite. I have many friends and family members who send their children to public school. I love each and every one of them and pray for them. I believe the public school environment is a freaky weird place! So, I seek to cover them with prayer and support at every opportunity. I hope and pray they do the same for me. They have wonderful children and are doing an amazing job in an environment which despises them.

When I asked “why” it was in reference to the previous statement in which I stated “Any family can do these things whether or not they homeschool. It's a matter of finding WHEN if you don't have your children with you as much as I do. The average family in todays typical environment, spends 20-30 minutes a day with each other. That's barely enough time to settle into "hi, how are you!". I admire the families that are able to be successful parents in that type of circumstance. I really do. That is far harder than what I do. To rebuild your children on a regular basis requires a level of diligence and perseverance which is unusual and extraordinary.”

To clarify myself further. Any family can spend time with, spiritualyl encourage and build up their children. Any family can do all the things I do through homeschooling and light years beyond. I’m not an exceptional teacher, I’m kind of the poster child for screwing up and repenting, to be honest. I’m the last person to tell you how to homeschool. Everything I do is because of grace. Everything my children learn is because of Mercy. Every day. My heart is heavy for these families who spend so little time together but are still desperately trying to do It All. That’s excruciatingly hard! I admire the one’s who are able to do so. I truly do. (Again, I’m sincere, this is not a sound bite). I believe what they do is FAR HARDER than what I do as a homeschooling parent. My question is “why the extraordinarily hard work if you don’t have to?” That’s the why. Not “why don’t you live like me”. G-d forbid you live like me. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Seriously! My hope is that I might offer an alternative to anyone who may wish to listen.

Am I completely convinced that this method of raising up my children is fabulous and wonderful and full of blessing and encouraging and life-changing? With. No. Hesitation.

I am 100% behind what I do.

As should be every parent out there doing what they believe G-d has asked them to do. If you can’t say with 100% conviction you are doing what you believe G-d has asked you? Then, by all means, SEEK HIM and OBEY!

Humilty is defined as the lack of false pride. Abasement and self-deprecating it is not. I can, in complete humility, state that I believe homeschooling is a far superior method of raising children. It’s not superior because I do it. Whether or not I participated in this the data states it is superior. Numbers don’t lie. I couldn’t, in complete humility, say I am the best homeschooler out there. That is a lie. In fact, many days I feel like an absolute failure. My 7 year old struggles badly with reading and I lose my temper frequently. We don’t always work well together and our “schedules” are helter-skelter most days. They probably would get a better education at the elementary school ½ a mile away. But when I look at their sweet faces and hear them praying over their friends and each other I am reminded why I do this. I am inspired for one more day. Or two.

I’m not afraid of the world around us. We are not given a “spirit of fear”. However, we are told to “gentle as doves and wise as serpents”. I see a hazard. I see an unnecessary risk for my child. I choose not to place him in a situation in which I see harm.

I don’t expect everyone to see it that way. I’m not a socialist. I am a strong proponent of free-will.

There were so many other points I wanted to get to but I lack the time.

In conclusion. Rick, it is obvious to me there are things you don’t understand about the homeschool environment. Every house is different, every home is different, every school is different. I wouldn’t be a proponent of homeschooling if I truly believed every person ought to teach their children as I do. That’s the belief system of the public education system. Every child testing at the same level according to age bracket, every child reading the same books, learning the same information on the same day. I believe the mandate G-d has given you is different from the mandate He gave me. And I would support your decisions to parent wholeheartedly, if I were a part of your life and able to be an encouragement to you. Your boys are unique and valuable not because of the environment in which they have been placed but because of the spark of divine light which rests within them. They are created in the image of G-d, therefore they are treasure. This is what I believe about every person on the planet. I don’t hate humanity. Quite the opposite. I am completely aware though, that unredeemed humanity hates me and is actively seeking my destruction. That’s the nature of their father. As loving and serving them is the nature of mine.

I don’t pretend to understand G-d. Yet, I can honestly say there are things I know about Him and things I don’t. I am committed and dedicated to diligently serving Him without hesitation on those things which I do know while anticipating discernment and wisdom for those things which I don’t. Isn’t that what we are all called to do?

Blessings to you.

Heidi

2007-05-24T09:08:00.000-07:00

Points on which we agree:

1. We love our kids.
2. We are seeking G-d on how to be the best parents we can be.
3. Those who homeschool are not elitists (at least not at this blog) and those don’t aren’t either.
4. We are here to stretch our perspectives, learn and grow.
5. We are not here to belittle or force someone to believe as we do. The last time I checked there was only one Holy Spirit and I’m not He.

So, with that being said, let me address Rick first and I will also address Jennifer, Jason, Karin and Dana as I have time later today. Please remember these comments are MY perspective and MY conviction. If you feel condemned or judged you obviously a) don’t know me or b) are determined to be obstinate. Both are fine. Both are easily rectified. Stop it already! This is what comments are for! Please rebut with your perspective and conviction. Now, I’m off to get new eyeballs, but when I get back. Let’s d’rasha!

(Rick's comments are italicized for ease of maneuvering on this topic.)

I believe homeschooling is a matter of choice.

I believe it is a matter of survival. Survival of faith, independence, free will, heart, sanity, morality.

But those who do it shouldn't feel as though public school is bad.

It is painfully irrelevant what I “feel”. Please show me the “good” things that are coming from public schools. Rampant immorality? Secular humanism? Johnny’s got 2 Mommy’s? The elementary school which my children would be attending if they were to be schooled there is also “award winning” and has a “great reputation” in the community. I’m sure there are some really nice Muslims too. I’m not sending my kids off to the local mosque to hear what they believe. Why? Because while they may have some “good stuff” occasionally, the core of which they are proponents is completely opposed to who I am and where I stand. As this is my belief, strongly, it is apparent to me that sending my child to something which contradicts my beliefs would be, well, bad...

I ask myself often, if Jesus were here today, where would He go to school.

*sigh* I’m sure Knightshadow can answer this better than I, but here’s my attempt anyhow. Yeshua (Jesus) attended his local yeshiva. His cultural experience and interaction limited him to primarily three avenues. Yeshiva, synagogue and family. Interaction with Gentiles was problematic for a few reasons but one of them that springs most readily to mind is this. Interaction with Gentiles could effect worship and whether one could be allowed in the temple. It was a big deal. Yeshua didn't "buck" the system. He didn't live outside the society in which He placed Himself and that society dictated an intensive and religious education. Question for you: According to your argument, Yeshua would have better served humanity going to the local Roman/Greek school? I'm sure His light would have shone brighter there? If that wasn't the case for Him, why do we push so hard for our little ones to be out there?

He was a man about the public and the people.

Yes, He was. When He was THIRTY! Even before that, the wedding @ Cana, He told His mother, "Woman, my time has not yet come." That whole free-will, self-determination, personal obedience thing. Something an adult is completely capable of and something a 6 year old doesn't have the tools to understand much less implement.

I think we have to ask ourselves why home school.

First and foremost, I homeschool because my husband has clearly stated that his children will be homeschooled. Secondly, I homeschool because I believe I have a mandate, as a parent, to be the one who “raises them up”. Period.

If it's truly about the home school experience then it's good.

“Homeschool experience”? I’m not familiar with that term and I’m not certain I understand exactly where you are going with it. I will say that doing anything for the sole benefit of “experience” would appear to be a waste of my time.

If it's fear that the world may damage our children, we may want to rethink our reasons.

Am I concerned my children may be damaged by the world? In a word, HELL YES! You are kidding right? If you sincerely believed an environment was not only opposed to your belief system and lifestyle but actually committed to destroying that very belief system and lifestyle, how negligent would you be to put your naïve and immature child into that system?

God says to live in the world not of it. I don't think Jesus is or was afraid of the world and we need children who can understand what they are up against.

Newsflash… School isn’t real life. In real life I can walk out of the room when my co-worker tells a dirty joke. In real life I can choose to find other employment when the management staff requires meditation for “group relaxation time”. In real life, I can stand up to the bully, the pervert and the co-worker. In school, none of the previous apply. My goal is to prepare my children for “real” life by building a foundation of G-dliness, integrity, individuality and conviction. That’s how I prepare them for real life. Because being a believer and living in a way that pleases G-d is far more important for “reality” than relying on a sort of pseudo-tolerant socialist dogma to support a relativistic and self-serving methodology at the expense of anyone’s immortal soul.

Home school is a great alternative for a lot of kids. I think we need to remember it's not for every kid. Some are called to be in that situation. If not, how are all those kids in public education, going to meet Jesus if all of our kids are in private or home schools.

My kids aren’t “called” to be homeschooled. I am called to educate them. This is how I do it. I’m not responsible for all the other Johnny’s and Susie’s in the world. Just two little boys in Bend, Oregon who live at my house. Little boys who play with the neighbor kids, go to parks, the library and other outings. Little boys who go to church, extra-curricular activities and local events. They are light. Light which I carry from place to place. To protect and direct. As that is my purpose.

Far too much of Christianity today is based on fear and I don't think that's what God had in mind.

Not enough of Christianity is based on “fear”, in my opinion. Too much of Christianity has dumbed faith in a righteous and holy G-d into our Divine Buddy. We should have a holy and justifiable “fear” of the responsibility we have to rear our children and the cost we knowingly took on when we brought them into this world.

In the unforeseeable future, is it possible G-d may ask me to do something which I don’t understand? Of course. Should I ask G-d every school year if this is indeed, still something He desires of me? Well, yes and no. Until my husband changes his mind, that’s a moot point, isn’t it? But yes, I should know this is the route G-d has chosen for us and re-visit that moment often.