Poor Dooce

I came across a blog that everyone and their mom in blogland already knows about: http://www.dooce.com/

The blog features nothing less than the life of Heather who's a recovering Mormon and has turned to the dark side.  It's well written, funny, and humbly exposing of Heather's progress through her life.  She calls herself a crackpot, and she's right.  Yet, she goes about life looking at it through a tough lens, bearing all the time the proof of her vulnerability.  Reading through some of her material, I'm reminded of why I used to like Stuff magazine. 

Guy humor is so charmingly earthy.

Heather is the sort of person I would love to be friends with, but who would write me off as hopelessly goody-christian.  It's probably for the best, as she'd be able to sense my pity for her and go on the offensive.  I am not the most compassionate christian, which really belies my name, but I can't help but have some for Heather.  Maybe it's because I would be her but for the grace of God.  Maybe it's because she's so forthright about what she really thinks in such a humorous way.  I certainly appreciate her musings on motherhood/children ("it's less about crying because she's hungry or mean (don't let anyone tell you they're crying for any other reason, those babies, those mean, mean babies)"), and have even gone down the same mental paths in the dark hours.

She has a section in her blog for hate mail (people are so hateful when they think they're right).  She's evidently recieved many offers of conversion, as she warns against attempting such a thing, but says that she doesn't refuse Bibles that have her name emblazoned in large gold letters.

She's so lost.  She's so likeable.

I wonder how much a personalized Bible goes for today?

Grey Matter

How odd that a person can be created out of words.

Mary vs Martha: the same smackdown 2000 years later.

So, we all know the story: Mary, the good one, sitting at the feet of Jesus and learning.  Martha, the tattle-tale, serving God in the kitchen.  We all know Mary chose wisely.  Jesus said so.  But, later on, when Lazarus is dead, Martha is the one who's got her theology on straight.  I think Mary and Martha were two sisters who had completely different personalities.  Mary was the thinker.  Martha was the doer.

Have you ever noticed the same things in your lady friends?  Some are thinkers and some are doers.

Now, that's a complete over-generalization, I know.  We are not all either thinkers or doers.  We've got some of both.  If you're like me, the urge to "think" and to "do" war just about every minute of everyday.  I wake up absurdly early every morning.  Early bird gets the worm, right?  So, which worm should I get? Should I work out?  Do laundry?  Read my Bible?  Start the kid's breakfast?  Read some lighthearted work of fiction?  Watch a movie?  Catch up on the WSJ?  Do?  Think?

I have a friend who can't sit still long enough to read.  She's all doer.  I know someone else who immerses herself in thought, but doesn't do much about it.  A thinker.  At some point, the doers are so busy doing, that they don't take much time to develop theological depths.  Thinkers can get so caught up in their thoughts as to make them lack any real world value.  Mary, our thinker, chose to sit at Christ's feet, look up to Him, learn from Him.  A good choice.  But when the rubber met the road, she still had lots more thinking to do.  Though Martha didn't do much sitting, her practical theology stood her is good stead when the very worst happened. 

Isn't it amazing how our thoughts and deeds play themselves out when our faith is tested?  You build your knowledge of God on how He works in the world (hospitality, visiting, physical care), and you are going to be strong when the physical things go wrong.  You are prepared.  If you strengthen your mental knowledge of God in how He works in theory (evangelism, education, even praise or theological rhetoric) and you are going to be prepared for those tough discussions. 

Think about the end of your life, when you've lived like you are for 60 or 70 years.  What will you be prepared for then, when your daily life gets REALLY hard (body failing, health failing, friends dying, family growing).  What fruits will you bear?  What weaknesses?

These are thoughts I've been having in the shower, but I'm enough of a thinker that my thoughts can get cyclical.  I need to bounce these thoughts off others.  So, others: thoughts??

Midwestern Housewife

My Pransome Hince was teasing me yesterday about finally getting to be a Midwestern housewife. This was never a goal of mine.  Housewife, yes.  Midwestern, no.

As I sit here, my fingers numb from 60* interior temperature exposure (too cheap to turn up the thermostat), I contemplate the geographical direction my life has taken.  An Army Brat for the first 17 years of my life, I pride myself on being able to live anywhere for at least two years, even in some truly tough social/geographical/familial situations.

It occurs to me now, that other than a brief stint in Washington when snow was really fun, I've never lived this far north.  In fact, the last time I lived somewhere that had truly terrible winter weather, I vowed to go to college in Arizona.

I kept that vow. 
I wonder how many more vows I will take in the coming winter.

With friends like these...

A funny poem came my way from a beloved friend.  Wanna read it?


my coffee mug sits in my hand
so warm and aromatic
it gives me feelings of delight
it clears my head of static
the emblem slowly comes into focus
a green and yellow thing
it's a john deere mug, a present
it makes me want to sing -
a light, or a melencholy air?
i can't really decide.
it reminds me of our friends
and so makes me glow inside
it took away our friends
and so i want that deere to die!

(not really, it just rhymed...sort of)

 
:D

Shy? Me?

I think I know how all those actors feel when they don't go see themselves in the theatre.

I know, I know, it's not like my blog is big stuff.  No one's reading this, and my words aren't anything anyone's hanging on to, so why should I get so embarrased to share it with others?

BUT, what if someone DOES read it?  What if they think I'm too...too?  It's not that I write this for other's enjoyment, but for my own (I'm perfectly happy if someone does enjoy it, however).  So, why should I care?

In high school, counter to most everyone else, I honestly didn't put much value on my peer's opinions of me.  One of the "drama freaks" I liked myself, my friends liked me, so if I got a little wild and crazy (read: hyper and rambunctious) I didn't much care that others were rolling their eyes.  That's certainly not the case now.

More is at stake? I certainly value my good name more, and that of my family and children.
I respect and admire my peers much more now than I did before, too.

I felt this way about my fuquavision skit.  Everyone liked it.  I got a million complements (especially by those who got the Flight of the Conchords reference).  I was proud of it, too.  I was also mildly embarrased and bashful about sharing it with others not in the Fuqua scene.

I feel like the same person--but I'm not!

Failed Gardener Tutorial

1. Go to Sams.  Get lured into the spring bulbs.  Forget all about black thumb's score (BT: Everything  Plants: none).
2.  Collect info on dividing plants. 

3.  Wait till naptime, get out huge shovel.  Spend 45 minutes digging holes and scattering bulbs.  Yell at the squirrel scout.  Pat back prematurely.
4.  Divide daylilies.  Decapitate a few.  Shrug and plant in holes anyway.
5.  Ignore audible crying from second story.
6.  Plant bulbs in second bed.  Yell at the squirrel scouts.  Start digging holes deeper.  Tersely answer myriad questions from escaped oldest child.  Continue to ignore noisy second story.
7.  Clutch back.  Belatedly remember past 4 years, 3 pregnancies and 3 labors.  Leave gardening mess for husband to pick up.
8.  Clean up poopy mess on second story.  Glance out window.  Yell at snooping squirrels.
9.  Limp downstairs.  Make dinner, set table, greet husband.  Glance out window.  Yell at poaching squirrels.
10.  Google daylily dividing.  Discover in dismay that you did it at the wrong time in the wrong way.
11.  Go to Teske's.  Buy more gardening things with hope in your heart.