We come to Thee, O Christ, confessing to Thee the fears that twist our lives and keep us from the inner calm and peace that come from Thee:
The fear of ourselves, that we cannot do what is expected of us;
The fear of being found out for our littleness and pride in ourselves;
The fear of being left out when joy and richness come to others;
The fear of not being ready when opportunities present themselves for service;
The fear of death, that when it comes our time to die, we shall not have done the things we would have done, because we were afraid to venture out.
We find ourselves shrinking back before the unknown, wanting assurance where we must have faith; We find ourselves hesitating to follow Thee, O Christ, afraid the cost may be too great, and life may pass us by. Give us the strength and peace that only Thou canst give. Amen
---Rachel Henderlite (1905-1991) Written for a service of worship at Montreat, North Carolina, July 20, 1954 from A Book of Reformed Prayers, ed. Howard L. Rice, Lamar Williamson, Jr., 1998, Westminster Press.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Monday, August 22, 2005
Spelling Foibiles, Spell Checkers, Comments and Curses
As PPB cannot spell "flue", I cannot spell "annoynymous." I don't think the word "annoy" is part of the word but my fingers and imagination fail me. It was two years into Seminary before I could spell "ressurection" with any confidence. It's part of that learning difference/dyslexia thing in my brain. Spell checkers with sophisicated dictionaries are a blessing to me.
Back to the point: I've changed how I receive comments on this blog by using the new Super Duper You-Know-What blocker. I hope that my legitimate annyonymous commenters will continue to comment and that all "machine" commenters will find their backsides frothing with runny warts.
Graciously,
St. Casserole
Back to the point: I've changed how I receive comments on this blog by using the new Super Duper You-Know-What blocker. I hope that my legitimate annyonymous commenters will continue to comment and that all "machine" commenters will find their backsides frothing with runny warts.
Graciously,
St. Casserole
Worship went well yesterday although we were soaked in sadness. A former member died Saturday. Well-liked, active in church life and a character.
I opened the service then discussed his death and our grief.
One of his family members came to worship (the day after his death) which impressed me.
Close death shuts me down and I can't imagine "returning to normal" the next day. The family member said she didn't know what to do with her time and it was time for church, so she came to worship. Makes sense to me. We gave her hugs and told stories about the decedent.
I changed my comments section to include that new comments spammie thingie. Turns out that all the D'Waynes of the spammy world commented on Dibbie's post. (See previous post to decipher this paragraph.)
Devotedly,
St. Casserole
I opened the service then discussed his death and our grief.
One of his family members came to worship (the day after his death) which impressed me.
Close death shuts me down and I can't imagine "returning to normal" the next day. The family member said she didn't know what to do with her time and it was time for church, so she came to worship. Makes sense to me. We gave her hugs and told stories about the decedent.
I changed my comments section to include that new comments spammie thingie. Turns out that all the D'Waynes of the spammy world commented on Dibbie's post. (See previous post to decipher this paragraph.)
Devotedly,
St. Casserole
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Saturday Cat Blogging
Dibley napping in front of Assumpta on chair. Two pairs of shorts, outgrown by LS, provide a comfortable cushion. Tapestry tablerunner from garage sale (what am I going to do with it?) on back of chair. On the far left side, you can see a bit of my brick courtyard outside my Study doors. Can you see the heat? Note small white paws with black toe pads behind Dibley.Andy the Big Cat is sleeping outdoors recalling his ancestor's days in Egypt (origin of Cats). He is reflecting on Exodus 1: 8-2:10 when there was, "...a new king, who did not know about Joseph..."
(v. 8). Andy's world changed when the kittens arrived. He is pondering the verse as he thinks of his own life, wondering what went awry with his plans to be an only cat.
Thanks for the hits,
St. Casserole
I'm up early for estate sales. After checking the paper ads sales don't look very good for this morning although I've been fooled before. Just when you think a sale will be yukky, out pops an amazing item for $5.
Along with reading the sales ads, I read our local paper online.
Here's MY news for the day:
If things go well, I may top 10,000 visitors today. You could help me by dropping by several times. (Hint, hint)
The Full Moon illuminates my back yard with the prettiest light.
The kittens are showing signs of mature cat-osity in their faces. Ah! The young grow up so fast!
Mid-grade gas is $2.68 a gallon. We need a Democrat for President who will indict the current president and his cronies for messing with the oil costs for their own gain.
High oil is making our timber industry upset. Timber prices translate into all sorts of areas like home construction, pencils, paper and etc. Not good.
I got into my car yesterday with the temperature registering 113 in the interior. Yuk.
What's your news?
St. C
Along with reading the sales ads, I read our local paper online.
Here's MY news for the day:
If things go well, I may top 10,000 visitors today. You could help me by dropping by several times. (Hint, hint)
The Full Moon illuminates my back yard with the prettiest light.
The kittens are showing signs of mature cat-osity in their faces. Ah! The young grow up so fast!
Mid-grade gas is $2.68 a gallon. We need a Democrat for President who will indict the current president and his cronies for messing with the oil costs for their own gain.
High oil is making our timber industry upset. Timber prices translate into all sorts of areas like home construction, pencils, paper and etc. Not good.
I got into my car yesterday with the temperature registering 113 in the interior. Yuk.
What's your news?
St. C
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Weekly Coffee Drinking with Preachers Advertisement
Yesterday at the Preacher Coffee Drinking and Complaining Meeting (held each Wednesday at the same place, same time and same preachers, mostly) one of the preachers looked me in the eye and said, "One of the things I've learned from you is to be more gracious."
Boys and Girls, I am horrified.
I am my worst self at that group: confrontational, sarcastic, interrupting, cackle-laughing.
If my graciousness filters through, I am amazed.
The group is a place for each of us to tell what we want to tell, let down our proverbial hair and know that what we say stays in the group. Ok, so I quote another member above. I think this is ok.
My dear preaching pals, please find a group like this for yourselves. The steam I blow off at the group is safe with my group. Listening to other pastors helps me understand them and myself.
I go to group every week regardless of my schedule or health. Go ye, and do likewise.
Boys and Girls, I am horrified.
I am my worst self at that group: confrontational, sarcastic, interrupting, cackle-laughing.
If my graciousness filters through, I am amazed.
The group is a place for each of us to tell what we want to tell, let down our proverbial hair and know that what we say stays in the group. Ok, so I quote another member above. I think this is ok.
My dear preaching pals, please find a group like this for yourselves. The steam I blow off at the group is safe with my group. Listening to other pastors helps me understand them and myself.
I go to group every week regardless of my schedule or health. Go ye, and do likewise.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
About the PUP meeting
Slept well last night and woke this morning to organize my notes and reflections on the meeting last night of a group discussing the up-coming Peace Unity and Purity Task Force Report.
I wrote my blog entry for you. Too long but worse, would give many clues about my identity and location. I'm not prepared to lose the last bit of my privacy. This blog's mission statement is to remain private and general.
I am awash in dissonance. Meetings yesterday about budgets and nominations made me feel like an alien from the Planet Outofit. What I see and understand about Church isn't even close to what my colleagues see/understand. The PUP meeting, with people I love and respect, moved very quickly from the report to where do we go now that the denomination is exploding.
No wonder I came home, put on my jamas and zoned out. I couldn't take any more.
Today is a new day, thank God. Today we have another chance to be faithful to our calling as God's children. Let's trust God to help us find our way and ways.
Yours,
St. Casserole
I wrote my blog entry for you. Too long but worse, would give many clues about my identity and location. I'm not prepared to lose the last bit of my privacy. This blog's mission statement is to remain private and general.
I am awash in dissonance. Meetings yesterday about budgets and nominations made me feel like an alien from the Planet Outofit. What I see and understand about Church isn't even close to what my colleagues see/understand. The PUP meeting, with people I love and respect, moved very quickly from the report to where do we go now that the denomination is exploding.
No wonder I came home, put on my jamas and zoned out. I couldn't take any more.
Today is a new day, thank God. Today we have another chance to be faithful to our calling as God's children. Let's trust God to help us find our way and ways.
Yours,
St. Casserole
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Friends, as a pastor who has learned how to take it easy in ministry, today was a BEAR of A DAY. I plan to tell you about the PUP meeting after I sleep on what I heard. I hope I don't have nightmares.
However, my day began with a blast of my old pals, the Rolling Stones, from the bathroom radio. Mick Jagger was singing, "You Can't Always Get What You Want" and I listened.
To my detractors who point out that I have lost forever my East Coast Lockjaw speech after years in the Backwater, I submit that the Mighty Mick Jagger says, "caint". I heard him. He says "Caint" for "can't".
I say it, too.
He says "git" for "get", too. The proper American pronunciation is "get" as in "pet- get" not "git". I say that, also.
Later in the song, he sings, "but if you try sometime, you get what you need." My mother must have whispered in his ear as he stood at the studio microphone. She couldn't stand hearing "lazy" speech.
Night, y'all,
St. Casserole
However, my day began with a blast of my old pals, the Rolling Stones, from the bathroom radio. Mick Jagger was singing, "You Can't Always Get What You Want" and I listened.
To my detractors who point out that I have lost forever my East Coast Lockjaw speech after years in the Backwater, I submit that the Mighty Mick Jagger says, "caint". I heard him. He says "Caint" for "can't".
I say it, too.
He says "git" for "get", too. The proper American pronunciation is "get" as in "pet- get" not "git". I say that, also.
Later in the song, he sings, "but if you try sometime, you get what you need." My mother must have whispered in his ear as he stood at the studio microphone. She couldn't stand hearing "lazy" speech.
Night, y'all,
St. Casserole
Monday, August 15, 2005
Cinderella and Bob
Hat tip to Rei:
Cinderella is now 95 years old.After a fulfilling life with the now dead prince, she happily sits upon her rocking chair, watching the world go by from her front porch, with a cat named Bob for companionship. One sunny afternoon out of nowhere, appeared the fairy godmother.. Cinderella said, "Fairy Godmother, what are you doing here after all these years"?The fairy godmother replied, "Cinderella, you have lived an exemplary life since I last saw you.Is there anything for which your heart still yearns?" Cinderella was taken aback, overjoyed, and after some thoughtful consideration, she uttered her first wish:"The prince was wonderful, but not much of an investor.I'm living hand to mouth on my disability checks, and I wish I were wealthy beyond comprehension. Instantly her rocking chair turned into solid gold. Cinderella said, "Ooh, thank you, Fairy Godmother"The fairy godmother replied "it is the least that I can do.What do you want for your second wish?"Cinderella looked down at her frail body, and said,"I wish I were young and full of the beauty and youth I once had."At once, her wish became reality, and her beautiful young visage returned.Cinderella felt stirrings inside of her that had been dormant for years.And then the fairy godmother spoke once more:"You have one more wish; what shall it be?"Cinderella looks over to the frightened cat in the corner and says,"I wish for you to transform Bob, my old cat, into a kind and handsome young man."Magically, Bob suddenly underwent so fundamental a change in his biological make-up that, when he stood before her, he was a man so beautiful the likes of him neither she nor the world had ever seen.The fairy godmother said,"Congratulations, Cinderella, enjoy your new life. With a blazing shock of bright blue electricity, the fairy godmother was gone as suddenly as she appeared.For a few eerie moments, Bob and Cinderella looked into each other's eyes. Cinderella sat, breathless, gazing at the most beautiful, stunningly perfect man she had ever seen.Then Bob walked over to Cinderella, who sat transfixed in her rocking chair, & held her close in his young muscular arms.He leaned in close, blowing her golden hair with his warm breath as he whispered.........."Bet you're sorry you neutered me."
Cinderella is now 95 years old.After a fulfilling life with the now dead prince, she happily sits upon her rocking chair, watching the world go by from her front porch, with a cat named Bob for companionship. One sunny afternoon out of nowhere, appeared the fairy godmother.. Cinderella said, "Fairy Godmother, what are you doing here after all these years"?The fairy godmother replied, "Cinderella, you have lived an exemplary life since I last saw you.Is there anything for which your heart still yearns?" Cinderella was taken aback, overjoyed, and after some thoughtful consideration, she uttered her first wish:"The prince was wonderful, but not much of an investor.I'm living hand to mouth on my disability checks, and I wish I were wealthy beyond comprehension. Instantly her rocking chair turned into solid gold. Cinderella said, "Ooh, thank you, Fairy Godmother"The fairy godmother replied "it is the least that I can do.What do you want for your second wish?"Cinderella looked down at her frail body, and said,"I wish I were young and full of the beauty and youth I once had."At once, her wish became reality, and her beautiful young visage returned.Cinderella felt stirrings inside of her that had been dormant for years.And then the fairy godmother spoke once more:"You have one more wish; what shall it be?"Cinderella looks over to the frightened cat in the corner and says,"I wish for you to transform Bob, my old cat, into a kind and handsome young man."Magically, Bob suddenly underwent so fundamental a change in his biological make-up that, when he stood before her, he was a man so beautiful the likes of him neither she nor the world had ever seen.The fairy godmother said,"Congratulations, Cinderella, enjoy your new life. With a blazing shock of bright blue electricity, the fairy godmother was gone as suddenly as she appeared.For a few eerie moments, Bob and Cinderella looked into each other's eyes. Cinderella sat, breathless, gazing at the most beautiful, stunningly perfect man she had ever seen.Then Bob walked over to Cinderella, who sat transfixed in her rocking chair, & held her close in his young muscular arms.He leaned in close, blowing her golden hair with his warm breath as he whispered.........."Bet you're sorry you neutered me."
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Sunday Night
Good day for Worship at Little Church. Early this morning, I stood outside with my coffee mug considering the new day and wanted to stay home. Such a beautiful day to be tempted to stay home to dig in the earth, prune and weed. I finished my coffee and wandered inside to get ready to drive through the county.
Matthew 15:10-20 (Jesus telling the disciples that what comes out of the mouth is the problem not what goes into the mouth; Canaanite Woman with the sick daughter who SHOUTS at Jesus for help) provides many delights for the preacher. I was ready with my sermon, prayers and a happy heart to see my people. Having been in situations where "seeing my people" delighted me less than getting rabies shots, I’m grateful for a time of "happy heart."
We had visitors. I assume our new newspaper advertising, cleaning up our church directional signs and getting a telephone message giving directions helped them find us. Cute couple. She’s pregnant and I’d be willing to host a baby shower every month until the birth along with doing all of their ironing if we could have a baby born into the congregation. Old churches with old people seldom get the fun of a new baby. And, I’d be happy to baptize the baby along with providing an antique baptismal gown. I’ll keep these incentives/bribes to myself, but it would be fun if they joined the congregation.
I have a weepy person in the congregation. The person weeps during sermons and prayers, silently dabbing at eyes with a tissue. The weeping goes on most Sundays. Before you tell me that it’s the sermon and the prayers which cause her to weep due to low quality and excessive length, I’ve considered that already.
I understand what it feels like to cry/weep/mist in worship. Church is one of my favorite places to let grief out. Or to be overwhelmed with joy. I hope people who don’t "do" church have a place where they can weep in comfortable fellowship.
Have a good week, y’all.
St. Casserole
Matthew 15:10-20 (Jesus telling the disciples that what comes out of the mouth is the problem not what goes into the mouth; Canaanite Woman with the sick daughter who SHOUTS at Jesus for help) provides many delights for the preacher. I was ready with my sermon, prayers and a happy heart to see my people. Having been in situations where "seeing my people" delighted me less than getting rabies shots, I’m grateful for a time of "happy heart."
We had visitors. I assume our new newspaper advertising, cleaning up our church directional signs and getting a telephone message giving directions helped them find us. Cute couple. She’s pregnant and I’d be willing to host a baby shower every month until the birth along with doing all of their ironing if we could have a baby born into the congregation. Old churches with old people seldom get the fun of a new baby. And, I’d be happy to baptize the baby along with providing an antique baptismal gown. I’ll keep these incentives/bribes to myself, but it would be fun if they joined the congregation.
I have a weepy person in the congregation. The person weeps during sermons and prayers, silently dabbing at eyes with a tissue. The weeping goes on most Sundays. Before you tell me that it’s the sermon and the prayers which cause her to weep due to low quality and excessive length, I’ve considered that already.
I understand what it feels like to cry/weep/mist in worship. Church is one of my favorite places to let grief out. Or to be overwhelmed with joy. I hope people who don’t "do" church have a place where they can weep in comfortable fellowship.
Have a good week, y’all.
St. Casserole
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Expeditus' RANT DAY EVENT
Dear Bloggie Sisters (and Brothers),
At Expeditus' suggestion (see comments in PUP entry), we will observe RANT DAY on Friday, August 12. All rants and craw-stickers shall be shared. You may comment on this blog or on your own.
Have a rant you don't want to claim? Say that it's your "sister's rant" and we'll believe you.
Hesitant to rant because your usual temperment is sunny and perky? Take a day or so to really dig up a good one from the depths of your outraged soul.
Concerned that you might sound petty? No Worries! The more petty the better, Betty!
As small group leader, let me begin the rant-age by sharing the following:
I detest public whistling. SHUT UP!
Waiter, don't take away my plate until everyone at the table is finished eating!
Waiter, don't take my silverware off my plate and place it on the table when bringing a new plate. Bring me a clean set of silverware or don't open a restaurant!
If you are dis-satisfied with your preacher, pray about it until you can find loving charity or go away or just SHUT UP! (ohhhhhhhh that felt good!)
If you are over the age of 3, please chew your gum with your mouth closed. NO SOUNDS, EITHER!
......that's all for tonight. I need to save a few rants for the RANT DAY EVENT!
See you!
St. Casserole
At Expeditus' suggestion (see comments in PUP entry), we will observe RANT DAY on Friday, August 12. All rants and craw-stickers shall be shared. You may comment on this blog or on your own.
Have a rant you don't want to claim? Say that it's your "sister's rant" and we'll believe you.
Hesitant to rant because your usual temperment is sunny and perky? Take a day or so to really dig up a good one from the depths of your outraged soul.
Concerned that you might sound petty? No Worries! The more petty the better, Betty!
As small group leader, let me begin the rant-age by sharing the following:
I detest public whistling. SHUT UP!
Waiter, don't take away my plate until everyone at the table is finished eating!
Waiter, don't take my silverware off my plate and place it on the table when bringing a new plate. Bring me a clean set of silverware or don't open a restaurant!
If you are dis-satisfied with your preacher, pray about it until you can find loving charity or go away or just SHUT UP! (ohhhhhhhh that felt good!)
If you are over the age of 3, please chew your gum with your mouth closed. NO SOUNDS, EITHER!
......that's all for tonight. I need to save a few rants for the RANT DAY EVENT!
See you!
St. Casserole
Psalm 130 v.1-2, 5-6
Out of the depths I cry to you,
O Lord.
Lord, hear my voice!
Let your ears be attentive
to the voice of my supplications!
I wait for the Lord, my soul
waits,
and in his word I hope:
my soul waits for the Lord
more than those who watch for
the morning,
more than those who watch for
the morning.
The Psalms contain the range of human feelings, don't they? All our hearts are somewhere in the
verses.
Yours,
St. Casserole
O Lord.
Lord, hear my voice!
Let your ears be attentive
to the voice of my supplications!
I wait for the Lord, my soul
waits,
and in his word I hope:
my soul waits for the Lord
more than those who watch for
the morning,
more than those who watch for
the morning.
The Psalms contain the range of human feelings, don't they? All our hearts are somewhere in the
verses.
Yours,
St. Casserole
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
PUP Comm. Warm-Up Discussion Facilitation
The Presbytery is having a speaker to talk with us about the Peace, Unity and Purity Commission Report next week upstate. The PUP Commission report will be released on Septemper 15 and next week's meeting is to "facilitate discussion on the matter."
I will go. I dread it. I can't tell you how weary I am of discussions about how dreadful the national leadership is. We are the national leadership. We are presbytery. We are Synod. We are General Assembly. It's all us. And what do we do about a fuss with us?
Is it just a chronic Southern thing to be suspicious of guv'mint....national leadership? Maybe.
Do we only connect with those whose faces and names we know and those who know us?
Is our view of the church so small that church for us is only the folks we worship with on Sundays?
If some bad news is coming about the denomination, I'm not sure I want to hear it.
I don't expect you or the denomination to be perfect. I don't expect you to agree with me. I don't expect that we will be best friends. I do expect, if you are Christian, that we respect one another's commitment to Jesus Christ.
I'm not saying this well. Probably won't say it any better after next week's meeting.
Life is tough. Let's love each other as best we can then make sure we extend to one another the Grace Jesus gives to each of us.
I need a nap.
St. C
I will go. I dread it. I can't tell you how weary I am of discussions about how dreadful the national leadership is. We are the national leadership. We are presbytery. We are Synod. We are General Assembly. It's all us. And what do we do about a fuss with us?
Is it just a chronic Southern thing to be suspicious of guv'mint....national leadership? Maybe.
Do we only connect with those whose faces and names we know and those who know us?
Is our view of the church so small that church for us is only the folks we worship with on Sundays?
If some bad news is coming about the denomination, I'm not sure I want to hear it.
I don't expect you or the denomination to be perfect. I don't expect you to agree with me. I don't expect that we will be best friends. I do expect, if you are Christian, that we respect one another's commitment to Jesus Christ.
I'm not saying this well. Probably won't say it any better after next week's meeting.
Life is tough. Let's love each other as best we can then make sure we extend to one another the Grace Jesus gives to each of us.
I need a nap.
St. C
Things I Wish You Could See
1. Dibley, the Orange Kitten, on the kitchen counter in a loaf pan of pound cake eating cake with both paws resting on either side of his head, hind feet inside pan.
(Note to self: Blast older cat for teaching kittens to get on the kitchen counter; cover or remove any human food from kitten's grasp.)
2. The look on the LLD's face this morning when she showed me her "straight" hair carefully straightened with hot presser. She felt beautiful. I felt deja vu to my high school days when straight hair was cool and I straightened my hair.
(Note to self: Be glad I have "body" in my hair so that it isn't limp and flat.)
3. My back yard (or "garden" for transatlantic types) full of hearty greenery abundantly growing with great joy and fervor.
(Note to self: Weed backyard before plants take over house as in horror movies.)
Love,
St. C
(Note to self: Blast older cat for teaching kittens to get on the kitchen counter; cover or remove any human food from kitten's grasp.)
2. The look on the LLD's face this morning when she showed me her "straight" hair carefully straightened with hot presser. She felt beautiful. I felt deja vu to my high school days when straight hair was cool and I straightened my hair.
(Note to self: Be glad I have "body" in my hair so that it isn't limp and flat.)
3. My back yard (or "garden" for transatlantic types) full of hearty greenery abundantly growing with great joy and fervor.
(Note to self: Weed backyard before plants take over house as in horror movies.)
Love,
St. C
Saturday, August 06, 2005
As a teen and young adult, I swore I'd remember what it felt like to be that age. I committed to recalling the emotions, needs and impulses of youth so that I would NEVER forget. Being pooh-poohed (as in 'get over it' which wasn't said back then but a variation was) got on my nerves. I planned to grow up and still be able to relate to youth.
Oh yeah. I worked with youth groups for about the first ten years of my ministry. I was clever, creative and available to kids and thought of myself as aware of their interior lives, etc. I felt I "related" to them.
Now I have teens. The roles are reversed. I'm the big ogre of parental insensitivity. I have no understanding of what it means to be a young person.
I agree with my critics who often starch me with hot looks to show how ancient my perspective has become. My critics are searching, learning and full of themselves. They can talk endlessly about anything and know more than I will ever know.
The critics live in our home and are fed at my table. I wash their clothing and hand out signed permission slips and cash. I run their errands, anticipate their needs and am cook, nursemaid and cleaning woman.
Before I tear off into the tangent of being an over-worked, under-appreciated Mom, let me return to the intent of this post.
I don't understand. I remember, as I said I would, what it is like to be shy, unsure of oneself, what it is like to view time as one new experience after another. I do. What I don't "get" anymore is why it isn't easier for them to siphon off my experience and advice so that they can avoid the mistakes I made. How much easier it would be for them if they could.
I couldn't take my parent's experiences and use them for my own. My children can't appropriate our experiences. Not much, at least.
The difference between us is that I've experienced many things many times.
I don't care much about what I wear. If I look stupid, I can deal with it. I know how to pick friends and seldom get into problems with my friends. I know how to deal with teachers and authority figures. I know how to plan my time so I can get my work finished and have time to play. If I have to lead something, I lead it. I know how to tell someone to mind their own business and stay out of mine calmly. I'm not scared of girls or boys.
My prayer this morning is that I will be alert to my children's needs and interior lives to the extent I am able and that I will relate to them with love. I ask for wisdom, too, that I not dash hopes or stifle them.
Yours,
St. Casserole
Oh yeah. I worked with youth groups for about the first ten years of my ministry. I was clever, creative and available to kids and thought of myself as aware of their interior lives, etc. I felt I "related" to them.
Now I have teens. The roles are reversed. I'm the big ogre of parental insensitivity. I have no understanding of what it means to be a young person.
I agree with my critics who often starch me with hot looks to show how ancient my perspective has become. My critics are searching, learning and full of themselves. They can talk endlessly about anything and know more than I will ever know.
The critics live in our home and are fed at my table. I wash their clothing and hand out signed permission slips and cash. I run their errands, anticipate their needs and am cook, nursemaid and cleaning woman.
Before I tear off into the tangent of being an over-worked, under-appreciated Mom, let me return to the intent of this post.
I don't understand. I remember, as I said I would, what it is like to be shy, unsure of oneself, what it is like to view time as one new experience after another. I do. What I don't "get" anymore is why it isn't easier for them to siphon off my experience and advice so that they can avoid the mistakes I made. How much easier it would be for them if they could.
I couldn't take my parent's experiences and use them for my own. My children can't appropriate our experiences. Not much, at least.
The difference between us is that I've experienced many things many times.
I don't care much about what I wear. If I look stupid, I can deal with it. I know how to pick friends and seldom get into problems with my friends. I know how to deal with teachers and authority figures. I know how to plan my time so I can get my work finished and have time to play. If I have to lead something, I lead it. I know how to tell someone to mind their own business and stay out of mine calmly. I'm not scared of girls or boys.
My prayer this morning is that I will be alert to my children's needs and interior lives to the extent I am able and that I will relate to them with love. I ask for wisdom, too, that I not dash hopes or stifle them.
Yours,
St. Casserole
Friday, August 05, 2005
Friday Cat Blogging
Assumpta and Dibley are settling into the Casserole Family with ease. We love these two!Assumpta is thriving with regular meals. She looks glossy rather than gaunt. Dibley charms us all with his calm good humor.
Rusty died one month ago today. I didn't know as I said good bye to him that these two pocket kittens would come home with us. The kittens comfort my spirit and have eased my grief. Rusty's health worried me for several years but now I have three young healthy cats to enjoy. I miss my old pal who was my companion for years and I know these two little kittens are a Gift as he was.
I am sappy about cats. I love dogs, too but with our family cats seem to work better. If I rattle on too often about the cats, mention it to me. Some of my friends glaze over when I talk about my pets, you can do the same.
Purrifically,
St. Casserole
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Worries on My Mind
I've got worries on my mind. I'm not asking for solace here. Really. I'm meditating on what worries I have on my plate and if it makes sense to worry. Beyond deciphering worries into manageable piles, I'm considering that my worries make complete sense.
Life is like this. We have worries which are silly and worries which make sense. I'm not even to the point of anticipating how to handle the worries if they all blow up into worse worries. I'm simply stewing in worry juice.
I suppose I'm not very good at worrying anymore. After going through fire-heaps of misery, most stuff sloughs off. I can shake worry not because I don't care or feel nothing but because I hold on to God, like Jacob, until I'm blessed or until the worry is appeased. Either one works for me.
My stomach is in knots and this doesn't feel very good. I'm so fortunate that I can feel the knots unlike someone with endless, constant worries who doesn't remember what before knots feels like. And, I have people I can talk with about my troubles. Thank you, God, for this!
We visited with friends tonight from our old neighborhood. We visited about who moved where, who was still on the old street and so on. After the visit, I realized that my stomach was relaxed and I'd forgotten my troubles. The comfort came from taking my eyes off my own full plate and recalling the lives of others. The warmth of the friends, including charming bouts of rapidly crossing themselves (making the sign of the cross) when death was mentioned, helped. We were one of the few protty couples on an RC street. Maybe my love of RC devotional piety items began there.
I calmed down. The children greeted us on our return home with all their scampering questions about school tomorrow, more laundry to wash, phone calls to return and so I'm sitting here tensing up again.
It helps when you pray for me. I remember you in my prayers, too. Sometimes in general and often specifically I tell God about you and ask for God's presence in your lives.
I'm not being coy or mysterious with this post. It's my own business and the details don't matter outside of my small circle. We are all fine and moving along with our work and lives so don't do any dramatic thinking about what is worrying me. I'm just telling you the process and asking for a prayer.
St. C
Life is like this. We have worries which are silly and worries which make sense. I'm not even to the point of anticipating how to handle the worries if they all blow up into worse worries. I'm simply stewing in worry juice.
I suppose I'm not very good at worrying anymore. After going through fire-heaps of misery, most stuff sloughs off. I can shake worry not because I don't care or feel nothing but because I hold on to God, like Jacob, until I'm blessed or until the worry is appeased. Either one works for me.
My stomach is in knots and this doesn't feel very good. I'm so fortunate that I can feel the knots unlike someone with endless, constant worries who doesn't remember what before knots feels like. And, I have people I can talk with about my troubles. Thank you, God, for this!
We visited with friends tonight from our old neighborhood. We visited about who moved where, who was still on the old street and so on. After the visit, I realized that my stomach was relaxed and I'd forgotten my troubles. The comfort came from taking my eyes off my own full plate and recalling the lives of others. The warmth of the friends, including charming bouts of rapidly crossing themselves (making the sign of the cross) when death was mentioned, helped. We were one of the few protty couples on an RC street. Maybe my love of RC devotional piety items began there.
I calmed down. The children greeted us on our return home with all their scampering questions about school tomorrow, more laundry to wash, phone calls to return and so I'm sitting here tensing up again.
It helps when you pray for me. I remember you in my prayers, too. Sometimes in general and often specifically I tell God about you and ask for God's presence in your lives.
I'm not being coy or mysterious with this post. It's my own business and the details don't matter outside of my small circle. We are all fine and moving along with our work and lives so don't do any dramatic thinking about what is worrying me. I'm just telling you the process and asking for a prayer.
St. C
I'm drinking coffee in my NEW MUG.
The children begin school on Thursday. That's August 4th, folks. The LS's schedule is light because he worked hard last year with courses. He's signed up for physics for both semesters and is chomping at the bit to begin. LD's on her way to help new students with orientation today. This is the first "work" of being on Student Council.
I'm trying to put together writing samples for the local paper up County. I'm clear on what I won't discuss if I am given a column, not clear on what I will write. I think a column will be good free publicity for the church.
The BIG sale at Fancy Church is Saturday and oddly enough, I'm helping organize the stock on Friday. Isn't this fine ecumenical work? I make a pile as I help sort. Pal and I helped for the last two sales so we are considered regular helpers. I hope the Talbots-my-size parishoner heaves out a load of great clothing as she did the past two sales. God bless that woman for shopping so close to my taste then giving still fashionable clothing to the sale.
I got a phone call out of the blue from a woman who wants to talk about theology. I thought back to when I saw her last and remembered that I was wearing clericals. I suppose this is the push I need to continue wearing clericals during the week (when the weather cools). My LH says I need to wear clericals everyday because people need to see a "priestly helper" at the grocery store, out doing errands etc. He's correct but I've been lazy to put on the collar when the weather hits 80+.
Assumpta just now made a mess in my religious hallway grotto by knocking over one Mary planter, an Infant of Prague and two candles. Nothing was broken but she was frightened with the noise. I'll photograph the grotto to show you what my collection looks like.
Happy Wednesday,
St.Casserole
The children begin school on Thursday. That's August 4th, folks. The LS's schedule is light because he worked hard last year with courses. He's signed up for physics for both semesters and is chomping at the bit to begin. LD's on her way to help new students with orientation today. This is the first "work" of being on Student Council.
I'm trying to put together writing samples for the local paper up County. I'm clear on what I won't discuss if I am given a column, not clear on what I will write. I think a column will be good free publicity for the church.
The BIG sale at Fancy Church is Saturday and oddly enough, I'm helping organize the stock on Friday. Isn't this fine ecumenical work? I make a pile as I help sort. Pal and I helped for the last two sales so we are considered regular helpers. I hope the Talbots-my-size parishoner heaves out a load of great clothing as she did the past two sales. God bless that woman for shopping so close to my taste then giving still fashionable clothing to the sale.
I got a phone call out of the blue from a woman who wants to talk about theology. I thought back to when I saw her last and remembered that I was wearing clericals. I suppose this is the push I need to continue wearing clericals during the week (when the weather cools). My LH says I need to wear clericals everyday because people need to see a "priestly helper" at the grocery store, out doing errands etc. He's correct but I've been lazy to put on the collar when the weather hits 80+.
Assumpta just now made a mess in my religious hallway grotto by knocking over one Mary planter, an Infant of Prague and two candles. Nothing was broken but she was frightened with the noise. I'll photograph the grotto to show you what my collection looks like.
Happy Wednesday,
St.Casserole
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
I've Been There and Bought the T-Shirt
The UPS truck showed up while I was cooking supper last night. My cafepress RevGalBlogPals t-shirt and mug arrived! If you see me today, I'll be wearing the shirt.
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