"Sort of'' Christians

Today is Easter Sunday and my little church was filled. It was a beautiful service, abundant with a baptism, children in their Easter finery, welcoming new members and communion. Our minister delivered a great sermon -- touching, funny and heartfelt. For a small church, we had lots of activities to recognize this magnificent day.

During Sunday school, we got into a discussion about the people who only show up twice a year. Ooops! It's Christmas Eve. Ooops! It's Easter. Better suck it up and go to church! As it happens, we are studying Romans and the whole not passing judgement thing.

I pass judgement all the time. Bad hair, bad outfit, I can't believe your kid did that -- you name it. Even if I don't say it out loud, it is screaming in my head.

There are people who say us church goers are a bunch of hypocrites. Yes, we probably are. And I do love the sentiment that church is not a temple for saints but a hospital for sinners.

Lots of people love to tell you that they can worship anywhere -- the fishing hole, the golf course, wherever. Of course they can. But, do they?

I don't go to church because it's the only place I can worship. I go to church to be with my fellow worshippers and take the time to reflect on this magical/sometimes horrible/astonishing life. I go to church because I have learned at this age, I need it. And someone misses me when I am not there.

I have no judgement about the Christmas Eve and Easter Christians. I just hope the seed is planted that makes them want to come back more often.

Ponderings

Wish I could take credit for this but it was passed along to me. It's worth sharing.

POINTS TO PONDER

1. Part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

2. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

3. I totally take back all those times when I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

4. There is a great need for a sarcasm font.

5. How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

6. Was learning cursive really necessary?

7. MapQuest really needs to start their directions at #5. I'm pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

8. Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

9. I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

10. Bad decisions make good stories.

11. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you aren't going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.

12. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after BlueRay? I don't want to restart my collection...again.

13. I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of WORD and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

14. "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this -- ever.

15. I hate when i just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Damn it!) but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What did you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?

16. I hate leaving the house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

17. I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

18. I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lite than Kay.

Kudos to the anonymous author of this.

Forever Friends

My oldest and dearest friends (my goldies) are still the ones I count on -- pretty much every day. I could not have gotten through the last year, and countless other periods of my life, without one or all of them.

We are all so different now. And we're honest enough to admit that if we met recently, at this ripe ol' age, we might not see the connection. Different jobs and different lifestyles ... different religions and different family situations ... different wants and needs ... different geography ... different politics and different beliefs. You get the point.

Sometimes a shared history IS the connection. And it is a sheer act of bravery to say to someone, "I will share this with you. You get to see the real me, warts and all." It's implied between children and parents. It's rightly expected with a spouse (although we all know how well I do that one!) With girlfriends, it is a choice. Not nature/nurture/genetics and not a social/legal/moral contract.

You get the good and the bad. You get to be one of the first to know that your girlfriend lost her virginity. You get to stand beside her at her wedding(s). You get to be in the delivery room or be a godmother. You get to watch her have a diabetic attack. You get to watch her yell at her husband and/or children. You get to watch each other get too thin, too fat, drink too much, battle smoking addictions and find your way back. You get to watch each other's parents get old and make odd choices.

Sunrise. Sunset.

And then, a girlfriend hands you a copy of a poem (because she will not give up the original) that you wrote to her when you were about 14 or so. One of my bffs handed this to me last week. It said:

I have this friend. You probably know her because she is recognized everywhere she goes. With one smile, she can make everyone's day a little brighter. If something's wrong, she's always there to help work things out. She knows just what to say whenever I need a little pep talk and she knows when to say nothing because I just need someone to listen. She is the type of person who comes along once in a lifetime. And I'm so grateful I found her now.

Ok, forgive the schmaltz. I was fourteen. But the message is I knew a gem and I knew I was lucky.

Secret Crush

The title might be redundant. Aren't all crushes secret? Otherwise all single people would act like third graders -- throwing spitballs and passing notes.

I have a little crush, a flicker of interest. And miracle of miracles, it's not on the man who has owned my heart for the better part of two decades.

It really doesn't matter if my crush ever notices me (but I hope he does.) It doesn't matter if we ever go out for coffee or brush knees in a movie (but I hope we do.)

What matters is I find myself thinking of him. I want to look nice in case I see him. I like hoping that he's as nice as he seems. I fantasize that he likes dogs.

The miracle is a heart that was crushed and pulverized now has a blip of feeling.

I've got a secret crush.

Daddy's Girl

Today is my father's birthday.

As Frenchy tells Sandy in the movie Grease:

"The only man a girl can really count on is her daddy."

Of course, I don't believe this is true. He's not the only man you can count on. But if you're like me and you are blessed with an exceptional father, every other man in your life has a pretty tough act to follow.

Happy Birthday to my dad.

Joys and Concerns

I am starting a new book, Secrets of Eden by Chris Bohjalian. He wrote Midwives, one of the few Oprah book selections I enjoyed.

And it starts with this:

As a minister I rarely found the entirety of a Sunday service depressing. But some mornings disease and despair seemed to permeate the congregation like floodwaters in sandbags, and the only people who stood during the moment when we shared our joys and concerns were those souls who were intimately acquainted with nursing homes, ICUs, and the nearby hospice. Concerns invariably outnumbered joys, but there were some Sundays that were absolute routs, and it would seem that the only people rising up in their pews to speak needed Prozac considerably more than they needed prayer.

I practically had to break my fingers to stop myself from calling my minister. Look at this! Read this!

We do joys and concerns in my church every week. Some people love the microphone and some people share very intimate, gory details. I embrace learning about people who need prayers but I am mindful of those who never raise their voice. I rarely take the microphone but I'm not above planting myself in our minister's office and bawling my eyes out.

Joys and concerns is a weekly audio newsletter. Sometimes it's messy; many times it's too much information. Often I don't make eye contact with anyone because my eyes are rolling out of my head. More often than not, it makes me put silly issues in perspective.

And here's the next part of the book:

On those sorts of Sundays, whenever someone would stand and ask for prayers for something relatively minor -- a promotion, traveling mercies, a broken leg that surely would mend -- I would find myself thinking as I stood in the pulpit, Get a spine, you bloody ingrate! Buck up! That lady behind you is about to lose her husband to pancreatic cancer and you're whining about your difficult boss? Oh, please!

As my minister pointed out on Sunday, we are blessed that we can't read each other's minds.

That doesn't mean we don't carry each other's joys and concerns all week long.

I've Been Thinking About ...

While I've been immersed and stewing in my own juices, I've occasionally paid attention to some local, national and international stuff. In no particular order of importance:

Conan O'Brien got screwed in the NBC/Tonight Show/Late Night/Jay Leno fiasco. Conan signed a contract years ago that gave him a guaranteed hosting position on a certain date. He lived up to his deal. Jay's prime time show didn't work (not his fault) and suddenly all contracts are treated about as ironclad as professional sports contracts. Whatever happened to a deal is a deal?

Ellen DeGeneres is a great come-back story. I liked her as a stand-up comedienne and loved her sitcom, Ellen. Then she came out as a gay woman, her show was cancelled and her movies were not getting a lot of attention. Now she is happily married (regardless of how you feel about that) and hosting the top rated day time talk show and the newest judge on American Idol. I am not gay (she is) and I am not married (she is) and I am not employed (she is) and I am not funny (she is.) Some days, I want to be Ellen.

Our state is trying to legislate some new stuff on how the kids are tested. We're also constantly debating the length of the school year and when it ends and begins. You would think I don't care about any of this but I do. Beyond the obvious -- our tax dollars support the school systems, this is the future of our society. I read an editorial lately about teachers who spend their own money for basic necessities like notebooks and craft paper. I thought about our church and the things we are asked to provide to a few schools: uniforms, underpants, etc. To echo the editorial I read, when did supporting the next generation become the responsibility of volunteers?

I think John Edwards is skunk and a scumbag. I'm very glad he's been outed. I'm equally sure Elizabeth could be/might be a b*#+h and a control freak. Everyone involved in this sordid mess is slippery and opportunistic. All in all, there's a moral lesson in the wreckage of so many lives.

Gosh it's fun to look at some other lives ...