All Over Again

A

A little more than two months ago, I had a total hip replacement.  This was to correct the two inch "leg discrepancy" (My right leg was two inches shorter than my left leg, in regular talk.) that occurred after my broken hip in August of 2014.  This involved four days in the hospital and seven days in a rehabilitation facility.

I really haven't done a lot of spiritual thinking about the significance of this, but I have made a few observations,

1.  There are ads for some orthopedic groups that "promise" that you may be out of bed the day of the operation and going home the next day.  This is more of a threat.  Getting out of bed wasn't that big a problem, but I was very glad that I didn't have to go home and could have a nice rest in a rehab facility, eating delicious meals (I lucked out there, Thank you, Jesus!) and being cared for by people who were paid to do it, so I didn't have to feel guilty.

2.  The chief topic of conversation among the patients, after their health, was Law and Order, Special Victims Unit, which was on every day for at least three hours.

3.  You may be put on Hip Precautions to keep your new hip from popping out of place.  The chief one is that you can't bend over or even lean over too far.  There are gadgets to help you put on your shoes and socks, pull your pants on and off, and pick things off the floor,  After you learn how to use them, they are kind of fun. Your grandchildren will love them.

4.  You can use your thigh as a surface to move your computer mouse. It's a long story.

5.  Ensure may seem like a drink for old fogeys, but it doesn't taste bad.  It reminds me of a thin milkshake,  My favorites in order are dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and vanilla.  Butter pecan does not taste like butter pecan.  Strawberry turned me off, so I didn't try it.  And, of course, you can always pep it up by adding ice cream.

6.  Except for Law and Order (any version, although my favorite is the original or Classic), daytime television sucks.  I may be turning into a prude, but I got tired of Charlie Harper on Two and a Half Men and Barney the Womanizer on How I Met Your Mother.  (And I think Ted could have done better for himself.)

WARNING: POSSIBLE TMI ALERT!

7.  The idea of a catheter may be creepy, but it's not uncomfortable, and it's nice not to have to worry about going to the bathroom, especially when you can't go to the bathroom in the bathroom.  The experience gave me insight into the catheter commercials on TV, but I hope I never need to order a catheter sample pack.

Just as I was feeling rested enough to start blogging again, I found inspiration for two posts.  I had been a little worried about material, since I don't have anything new to say about Bill Cosby (not that that has ever stopped me before, but he's not only sad but boring) and I am not ready to think about Donald Trump and the Gang. Some things are too surreal even for me.  I won't spoil the posts for you here, but they will be coming up soon.  God works in mysterious ways, Her or His wonders to perform.

The Best Post on Christmas Stress -- Ever -- In the World!



 

 

 

 

In order to reduce my stress load this Christmas, I am reposting last year's Christmas Stress post instead of writing a new one.

Do you feel that Christmas is a disruption in your life?  Are you overwhelmed by trying to provide the best Christmas possible?  How do you feel when you read an article or hear a discussion on a talk show telling you that you shouldn’t try to create the “perfect” Christmas?  And don’t forget all those movies about a burned out parent (usually Mom) who has a revelation and cries and berates herself for not seeing the meaning of Christmas.  Do you feel guilty because you would have been satisfied with just “real nice”?  Or are you shooting for perfect and feeling guilty not only for not making it but for even trying?

No matter where you turn, someone is saying something about the stress of Christmas.  I stopped reading articles about how to avoid stress, since reading them and trying to put them into action just took up time and led to more stress.

Maybe we just ought to accept that fact that we are going to strive for “the best Christmas ever,” no matter what we read or see on television and hear in church.

But I have a thought.

Christmas disrupts our lives, just as it has disrupted the world.  Mary and Joseph had their lives disrupted; so did the shepherds and wise men.  When we decide to follow Jesus, our lives are going to be changed and change is disruption.  It is a miraculous disruption.

But wouldn’t it be nice to find a little peace?

Maybe on the 26^th or the Saturday after Christmas, we can enjoy the leftovers, watch the DVD’s we got, and really read the Christmas cards and newsletters.  I’m going to keep the 26^th in mind tonight
as I wrap presents and worry about whether everyone will like them.

It's still all about us.

"Not my circus, not my clowns." Old Polish Saying




Well, Lamar od'd in a brothel in Nevada and was in a coma. Khloe rushed to his side, accompanied by various Kardashians. Lamar woke up, they cancelled their divorce action, and he is in rehab. Well.

What should we say? "I'll pray for them." What are we saying? Probably a lot more.

"She's making a big mistake."

"Being on that show probably drove him to it."

"Maybe she's a co-dependent." "Maybe?"

"Do you think it will last longer than Kim's marriage to that basketball player?"

"I am so sick of the Kardashians!"

And on the bright side: "Maybe he'll be scared enough to get sober."

"It'll give the show a big boost." There's a silver lining in every cloud.

We don't need to point out that this is unchristian or even "not very nice." We know that. But we're going to be not very nice anyway. God probably wonders when we are going to get lives.

But eventually we'll get tired of it or at least turn out attention to the next scandal. Do our comments tell us anything about ourselves? Do we think it's good that Lamar didn't die? Are we hoping that they will work things out? What do we think Jesus would say about all this?

The Kardashian goings-on are not our circus. But since we've devoted energy and oxygen to them, we might as well try to learn something.

And we can pray for them.

PS I am never going to say that I have nothing more to say about anything, There's always something.

 

　

Kim Davis Has Nice Hair

"Not my circus, not my monkeys."  Old Polish Saying 



For the past several days I have been trying to write about Kim Davis and Pope Francis.  This is at least my third attempt.

I've read a lot of news articles, commented on a lot of Facebook posts, and laughed at a lot of Kim Davis jokes. 

I finally decided that the Pope is very charming and charismatic and is probably a very nice man with a very hard job, who is tying very hard to do the very best he can.  Unfortunately, he is the  head of an organization that considers homosexuality a sin, denies women reproductive freedom and refuses to ordain women.

As the saying goes, that is not my circus.  And even though in attempting to follow the teachings of Jesus, I try to love the Pope as I am supposed to love everybody (And I will even pray for him as he has asked everyone to do.), he is not my monkey.

After Pope Francis was criticized for meeting with Ms. Davis, the Vatican issued the statement that “The pope did not enter into the details of the situation of Mrs. Davis, and his meeting with her should not be considered a form of support of her position in all of its particular and complex aspects."  (The Rev. Federico Lombardi, the Vatican spokesman, in a statement released on Friday morning.)

 

But the thing of it is that he does support her position, at least officially.  By their standards, the Vatican does not need to defend him.  But doing so supposedly makes the Church look a little better. And it makes Ms. Davis look much worse, which should make her critics happy. And besides providing the spectacle of Ms. Davis being crushed by the bus she was thrown under, it also dazzles the public with so much rhetoric that we will say, "Yeah, whatever," and get on with our lives, which is what I intend to do.

But first, I'd like to mention something that seems to have been overlooked:  Kim Davis has a story. I haven't seen it;  I guess People Magazine isn't interested.  But I have several questions. 

 What was her life like before she became a Christian?   What kind of childhood did she have?

How did her marital history, which so many liberal people have taken such glee in reciting, affect her? (It is interesting that many of these people have called her fat and homely.  But she has had four weddings and three husbands and is still married to the last one; she must have something.)

What did the Pentecostal church offer her and why did she need it?

Did she ever have dreams of getting out of Rowan County, Kentucky?  And what is Rowan County like, anyway?

Liberal Christians find it hard to have any sympathy for her, let alone love her as we are taught to.  Actually few liberals have any sympathy for her, but the Christians are the only ones who feel they should, 

Maybe if we knew her story, we could see her as a beloved child of God -- like us and the tax collectors and prostitutes Jesus ate with.

Ms. Davis is very wrong about a lot of things. But seeing her as God's child and our sister does not make us disloyal to our LGBTQ friends, Ellen DeGeneres, Elton John, Bishop Gene Robinson, and the entire LGBTQ community, or, if we are members of that community, self-hating to ourselves.

I'm hoping that I got this right this time.  Now I'm going to post if before a new scandal comes along and Kim Davis is "so fifteen minutes ago."

Then I'm going to get on with my life.

BUT I LOVE YOU ANYWAY.

Down the Rabbit Hole Again -- Curiouser and Curiouser

I thought I was too worn out with stuff you can’t make up  to comment on the Kim Davis situation, but I found I  can't help myself.  (Once you're in the rabbit hole of organized religion, you might as well just find a comfortable spot.)  Ms. Davis, a County Clerk in Rowan County, Kentucky, is in jail for refusing to issue marriage licenses to same sex couples because it is against her religion.  She says that forcing her to do so is to deny her religious freedom.  Really, what can you say about this logic?  Maybe Holy Crap. 

I posted a comment on Facebook that I wasn’t going to comment on the situation except to say that I was too weary to comment, which was probably a comment.  I thought of saying that Ms. Davis’s behavior gives Christians a bad name, but I realized that many people would say she is not a Christian.  Frankly, I’m not sure if she is not a Christian or is just a terrible one.  And who am I to judge?  Maybe the best thing to do is to just think of her as a person, as I am.

So, I figured I had said enough.

And then . . .

I read a post from the Father Marcus Halley’s blog, Black and White and in Living Color.  I liked what he was saying. He thanked Ms. Davis for giving him the opportunity to see her as a child of God, to love her, and to pray for her.  A common reaction to reading this might be, “Say whaaat? Good one, Father.  You had me going there for a minute.”  That Father Halley is gay makes this even more extraordinary.

So, perhaps in response to Father Halley or perhaps because I don’t want to hide my light under a bushel or maybe because I just like to see myself write, I would like to offer a few random thoughts.  They may be random, but at least they are few.

1. Father Halley is doing what we are supposed to do, what we are told to do, not only in sermons, but by the Bible.  God loves Kim Davis and so should I.  (God is a lot nicer than I am.) I try.  I really do.  I have used quite a bit of energy and oxygen thanking God for opportunities to look for Jesus in others and praying for them. Sometimes it works. We need to be told this as forcefully as possible and maybe even as often as possible.

 2. Ms. Davis belongs in jail, and I'm glad that she if she is convicted she won't get to keep any money she makes from the book she will probably write. 

3. I have to admit I might consider a County Clerk who issued marriage licenses to same sex couples in defiance of anti-marriage equality laws to be a hero and if he or she went to jail, a martyr.  And although I fault Ms. Davis for not upholding the law, as she is required to do as a public official, I don’t know how much significance I would give to this hypothetical public official’s responsibility. And I would think it was a terrible injustice that he or she wouldn't get money for a book. I would probably be reminded of Henry David Thoreau who went to jail for refusing to pay taxes that supported the Mexican-American war and a government that allowed slavery.  (Legend has it that when Emerson asked him, “What are you doing in there?” he replied, “What are you doing out there?”)

4. Ms. Davis has had a varied marital history.  (This is Episcopalianspeak.  I am trying to restrain myself.)  I acknowledge that this is none of my business.  But I wonder how much respect she showed for marriage and the Bible before she came to her decision. Once again, Holy Crap!

5. Finally, we are told there is hope for everyone, no matter what they have done.  God is not finished with Ms. Davis.  She has only been a Christian for four years and, like St. Paul, may experience an epiphany. God is not finished with me, either.

I need that hope as much as she does.

 

Sixty-Four Plus 3

 

I recently celebrated my 67^th birthday, and I realized that I am now closer to seventy than sixty. (I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me a year and a half ago.) You know those articles in which people reflect on how they have changed with a significant birthday? Sixty-seven isn't really significant, but I have been doing some different (and some might say strange) things.

Instead of listening Joni Mitchell or The Jefferson Starship or Bob Dylan when I am on the computer at work, I am now listening to bluegrass, Irish drinking songs, Talking Heads, The Ramones, and The Clash. (The kids left the CD’s for the last two.) They are great for when I’m entering data. Fortunately, I’m not the only worker who is desk dancing. We all have earphones, so I don’t know what everyone else likes. I am going to look into the Sex Pistols and Dead Kennedys.

I decided to make a bucket list. It is

1. Try a pink squirrel cocktail

2. Try all the kid’s cereals I never used to let in the house. Fortunately you can get variety packs so you don’t have to commit to anything. 
 

I bought a new moisturizer that cost almost twice as much as my regular moisturizer. I was so pleased with it I bought the same brand of eye cream. A gift card paid for half both times, but when I run out, I’m going to get more, gift card or not.
 

 I decided that most people are not going to “get” me or recognize my references. So when I offer a comment or observation and the hearer gets a dead fish stare and says, “Oh,” I will not think there is anything with either me or him or her.

 

I referred to God as “She” at my Bible Study Group; this is a little “too hip for the room,” as they say. The leader just rolled his eyes in a friendly way; he’s used to me.

 

I have been buying about two pounds of Swedish fish, raspberry jellies, etc. at the Mall about every two weeks. If you buy more than two pounds you get another quarter pound free.

 

I have been reading more lately, particularly serious writers, to improve my style through osmosis. (It works, too.)  But if I don’t like the books, I don’t finish them. I have done this twice to Mary McCarthy with The Groves of Academe and Cannibals and Missionaries. (In Cannibals and Missionaries, a cat dies. I’ve decided to take it upon myself to warn my friends when animals die in books, movies, or television programs.)


If anyone says that something is called something else (as in “I’ve stopped eating sugar and white flour. It’s called ’taking responsibility for your health.’”), I am going to say, “No, it’s called ‘whatever you just said it was’ (as in “No, it’s called ‘stopping eating sugar and white flour.’”)

I am only using one space after a period or question mark.To use two spaces is considered bad typology.  (Google “space after a period” and you’ll find debates as numerous and passionate as those about the final Sopranos episode.) But I’m doing it as a challenge to fifty-eight years of using two spaces. Microsoft Word corrects a no-space typo with one space, although it does not change two spaces to one. For a former English teacher, single spacing is almost heresy.

 I send hugs on Facebook.  I may start doing it live.

 

I have started praying for things for myself. And I don’t apologize. God really doesn’t have a problem with stupid or selfish requests. She’s going to do what is best. (It is easier to ask for things if I think of God as “She”.)  She’s not going to get mad at me for asking and will forgive me for getting mad if the answer is “No” or “Not now”.

When someone starts saying how much better things used to be, I have brought up dentistry and eye surgery. When they get superior about computers and Facebook, I say, “Oh, I love Facebook” and tell them how I tracked down two old boyfriends.
 

 
I realized that someone who is now 70 would not have been old enough for Pre-K if it had existed on the day I was born. Someone who is 80 would have been about to start eighth grade!  I find this fascinating and not depressing.

I never thought I would be a feisty “woman of a certain age,” although I thought it was a great thing to be. Sweet old lady was really good enough for me, since I’ve often been called sweet. ( I’m too tall to be called little.)  Maybe it’s something I can aspire to, not because I want people to have that opinion of me, but because it might be fun.

 

 

 

 

 

Not Your Grandfather's Snack Cakes

In case anyone is wondering if Woodstock Churchlady has been wimping out lately on presenting “the opinions you’re afraid to express", (See “Warning:  This Is an Opinion I Am Almost Afraid to Express", June 7, 2015), maybe this will restore her reputation as a loose cannon:

The Ashley Madison Scandal is not a big deal!

The worst offense was that of the hackers.  People are entitled to privacy when they are trying to hook up for extramarital affairs.

This is not to say that adultery isn’t wrong.  Anyone who has ever been the victim of a partner’s betrayal has suffered great, maybe unbearable, pain.  We are supposed to wait until we are married to have sex.  And with marriage equality, this means everybody.

Well, it would be nice if this is how things worked out.  (As long as we’re spinning fantasies, we might as well imagine that all marriages are deliriously happy. Good luck with that.)

But as someone’s wise old grandmother must have said, “People will be people.”  That people have affairs is, in Episcopalianspeak, “very unfortunate,” maybe even “terribly unfortunate.”  But it’s not unusual.  (Cue Tom Jones.)  How many of us have looked for love in all the wrong places?

And how many stories, novels, poems, songs, plays, and movies can you think of that are about adultery?  Some are dramatic and may have “redeeming social value” when the adulterers come to a bad end.  Some are just funny.  Marge Simpson got involved with a website “Sassy Madison” when she thought she was ordering snack cakes from Dolly Madison.  If you can decipher Middle English, The Canterbury Tales are supposed to be a hoot.

So why should the Ashley Madison scandal get so much attention?  Why are people taking such joyous interest in it?  Maybe because we are people, we need drama, even or maybe especially, if we are leading relatively virtuous lives.  Virtue can be boring.  And we might as well admit that for all our talk about minding our own business and not being judgmental, we enjoy thinking, “Well, at least I never did that.”  Or maybe I should speak for myself.  But feel free to join me.

If you’re wondering what the point of this is and what, if anything, you are supposed to do after reading it, I can only say, “It’s whatever you want it to be and you aren’t supposed to do anything, except write a glowing comment and make this go viral.”  I’m just kidding about the last part.  But maybe the point, which I seem to make a lot, is that this scandal, like most others we are not involved in personally comes down to being all about us.  How do we react to it and can we learn anything from it or from our reaction?  I am not going to condemn anyone, since I don’t know that facts, and even if I did, it’s not my job to do so.

But, lest you think Woodstock Churchlady is being too much of a churchlady, I will say that I will follow the scandal and maybe (OK, probably) even enjoy it.  And I’ll tell God that I know it’s wrong and trust that He or She has a sense of humor.

(I hope my referring to myself in the third person didn’t annoy you too much.  I get a charge out of it, but I’ll try to restrain myself in the future.)

Celtic Thunder