AllTheseThings

It takes a village.....

….to raise a child. Yep, we all know that one, but did you also know it takes a village to chose a boyfriend? This is what I learned last night, as I threw Mr Second Date into a party full of old and new friends.

Just to set the scene, I embarked on the first date with low expectations of a long-lasting relationship but high expectations of a fun evening. (And I never turn down a first date, based purely on their rarity. That would be ungrateful). I was pleasantly surprised to find we had more in common than I realised and the evening was a lot of fun. And, in reference to my previous post, I was thrilled that it was unmistakably a date, not a super-casual, hangout, slap-on-the-back, split-all-the checks, who-the-heck-knows-what-this-means kind of evening, which is much more common and endlessly irritating. This was a DATE. He got his hair cut. He was wearing his nice jacket. He had the evening planned out, with drinks and walks and then food. Wow! I feel the need to report this rare occasion to some tracking organisation so they know that real dates are not extinct.

Giddy from this extravagant display of romance, I invited the man in question to a party a couple of days later. He wouldn’t know anyone there, but he was brave and accepted the invitation. Not knowing him very well at this point, I thought it might be interesting to see him in this kind of environment. But I had grossly underestimated the prophetic nature of the evening. In fact, I am now prescribing a party for all second dates, as a sure fire way to find out if your fledgling relationship has legs. It’s quick and (relatively) painless and it gets the job done.

But first, this only works if you have really great friends, with copious amounts of hospitality and ideally, impeccable judgement. (Yeah, I know it’s a high bar, but do the best you can). Then just observe, as your potential sweetie-to-be works the room. I can’t tell you exactly what to expect, because as we know (ladies) there are some really weird personality traits that no-one warned us about in Dating School. These traits are invariably latent until the subject is thrown into a crowd of strangers, then POOF!, as if by magic they appear……..all at once, and in far too many possible combinations to describe here. 

So all I can say is, you’ll know by the end of the evening if you have winner or not. (And if you don’t know, your good friends will tell you the next day). As I listened to Mr Second Date screeching into the Karaoke microphone at 12.30am, I knew. A winner he was not. I’m sure some lovely lady out there will appreciate his, er, uniquely quirky and relentless sense of humor. Good luck to her. 

So, onward and upward into 2009!! And if you invite me to a party and I show up with a strange man in tow, you’ll know what you have to do.

Don’t let me down.

Philomena

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When I was hungry, you fed me.

Last night I was manning the dessert and coffee table at a fundraiser. As people arrived they helped themselves to the treats, chatted and then slowly made their way into the church sanctuary for the concert. The music began, but I stayed at the dessert table out in the courtyard, greeting the late-comers. I didn’t mind at all. The doors to the sanctuary were wide open and I could hear almost everything .

I’d been standing there about 20 minutes when a homeless guy wandered into the courtyard and sat down about 10 feet away from me. He was bundled up against the sea breeze in a hooded sweatshirt and pushing what I think was a stroller with his few belongings in them.

It was pretty obvious that he could use a cup of hot coffee and some dessert so a few of us made him up a plate of goodies. He was very grateful.

“Is this a church?” he asked
“Yes”
“A Christian church?”
“Yeah”.

He nodded his approval, maybe more for the coffee and brownie than for the surroundings. But as he sat and ate he kept peering towards the sanctuary door, towards the singing and scriptures projected onto the back of the stage wall.

5 minutes later the brownie was pronounced “very good” and the coffee was ready for the road. He stood up, gathered his belongings and took one more long look into the sanctuary. One of the scriptures caught his eye.

“That’s what Jesus said!!” he exclaimed.
“What’s that?”
“When I was hungry, you fed me”.

He took a long look at me. I raised my coffee cup to him. He waved and headed off into the night.

How often does someone approach us with a need and we can satisfy it that easily? He was hungry, and there I was, standing behind a table laden with free homemade desserts and hot coffee! I didn't even make any of the desserts! It doesn’t get much easier than that.

 God lays out a feast for us too, and invites us to the table to have our needs met. He’s done all the work and all we have to do is approach. Then he gives us the opportunity to invite others to share in the feast. What a privilege!

Philomena

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Done!

In the beginning, there was work. Then more work. Then even more work. Then exhaustion, leading to sleep, leading to……….more work. Does this sound familiar? Well, I hope you have all climbed off the hamster wheel for a few days to enjoy some rest with your friends and family. Tomorrow is the Sabbath, so it’s not over yet! But I suspect thoughts of Monday morning are already creeping in.

Rest isn’t as easy as I first thought it should be. “I’ll rest when the work is all done”, is what I used to think. “Then I’ll be ABLE to rest because I’ll be satisfied. I’ve earned the rest”. But, when is all my work done? When is all your work done? When are you satisfied that everything’s been completed?

In our small group study of the Sabbath, we were invited to read the account of the creation of the world. It ends,

“ By the seventh day, God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work.”

Well, no wonder God was able to rest! He finished his work and even called it
“very good”. He was completely satisfied. How am I supposed to get to that point? I can’t imagine it happening anytime soon.

But God doesn’t call me to rest because of my own work, as if that was comparable to His. He calls me to share in His rest, because of His work, which is DONE! I don’t have to add to it with my own work.

Resting can still be hard, but it helps to keep my eye on the goal, which is to put my own work aside and recognise that it is irrelevant how much I still have left to do. It’s His work I can rest in, and rest right now.

Enjoy your Sabbath!

Philomena

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Gunpowder, Treason and Plot

It’s hard to believe that today is anything other than the day after the US presidential election. But, my friends across the pond are celebrating Guy Fawkes night. As my colleague just asked, “who is Guy Fawkes?” followed by “and what is his name doing in my day planner?”. I can’t answer the second question unless she bought her day planner in the UK, but I can have a good crack at the first.

Guy Fawkes was a Roman Catholic and the lead conspirator in a plot to kill Protestant King James I by blowing up the Houses of Parliament in 1605. In the days leading up to the State Opening of Parliament on November 5th, he accumulated a large amount of gunpowder in the cellars beneath the House of Lords and was just about to light the fuse when he was found and captured. He was tortured until he confessed and gave up the names of his co-conspirators who were subsequently arrested, tried and found guilty of high treason. The punishment for this capital crime was gruesome: they were hung, drawn and quartered.

Although the importance of the monarchy in British life is becoming more and more controversial, King James’ narrow escape from death is still marked, 400 years later. On December 3rd, at the State Opening of Parliament, before the arrival of Queen Elizabeth, a Yeoman of the Guard will make a symbolic search of the cellars beneath the Houses of Parliament. Everywhere else across the country, November 5th is officially “Bonfire Night”. Until recently, children would make an effigy of Guy Fawkes (old clothes stuffed with straw like a scarecrow) and push it around the streets in a wheelbarrow, shouting “penny for the guy”. Unfortunately, in recent years the guy became less important than the penny and buying fireworks was forgotten (and forbidden) in favor of cigarettes. In 2008, children rarely go to the effort of making a guy and even more rarely try their hand at garnering donations to their allowance, but on this day every year, huge bonfires and the (official) fireworks still light up the usually cold, damp November skies.

Like Christmas, the real meaning of Bonfire Night and all it’s symbolism is gradually disappearing among the lights and sounds and food that children look forward to on November 5th. Although I can’t remember where, I was once taught the Guy Fawkes rhyme and I sincerely hope the children celebrating tonight can recite it too.

Remember, remember the fifth of November,
The gunpowder, treason and plot,
 I know of no reason
 Why the gunpowder treason
 Should ever be forgot

Philomena

Golden Boy

If you watched last night’s presidential debate, you may have focused your attention on the candidates’ plans for the economy, health care and education. I, on the other hand, was wondering how a plumber can make 200K+ per year. Did I hear that right? Joe makes over 200 grand?

You may think I’m jealous. Well, maybe a little, but my thoughts this morning turned in another direction. This guy’s quite a catch! He’s single, he has a good job, he works hard for his money and he’s not that bad looking either. And, as if that weren’t enough, HE CAN FIX STUFF!! This guy is golden.

So I’ll be catching the next plane out to Ohio to find Joe and pledge my undying love. I just have to ask him one quick question before “I do”:

“Who are you voting for?”

Philomena

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Time out

The financial markets are in meltdown, and what am I doing? I’m sitting on my couch, drinking my coffee and watching the morning news, just like any other day. What am I thinking? I should be running around and screaming with my head in my hands! Hmm…..maybe just one more sip of java……

I am pretty financially conservative, which helps to keep me calm. My job is safe, my car is paid for and I’ve got a fixed rate mortgage with one of the few banks still standing. But I still feel a little guilty, walking around as if nothing is happening, when everyone else is running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

I found some reassurance on the news this morning. One of the financial experts described the cause of the plunging stock market like this: we have been used to buying things we can’t afford, using credit cards and bank loans etc. Now these things are less available, we are forced to live within our means. We don’t like it, and, like a 4 year old with his popsicle taken away, we are having a tantrum. The tantrum is manifesting itself in us taking all of our money out of the stock market and stuffing it under the mattress. (So there!!). His advice was, as every good parent knows, just to ride out the tantrum until it subsides. I like to translate this as “sit on the couch and enjoy your breakfast”.

So I guess it’s OK to be calm in the middle of the storm. I do feel terrible for the people who were planning to retire soon. For them, "riding it out" wasn’t in the plan and may not even be an option. But for the rest of us, we are being asked to do one of the hardest things imaginable: keep our eyes fixed on the long term and wait patiently.

Does that sound familiar?!

Philomena

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Like, not love.

There’s an advertising slogan that says “Around here, you have to love what you drive”. And I do. It’s small and sporty, not unlike its owner. (Ha ha). But “my baby” as I like to call it, has in the past fallen foul of the dreaded teenagers who break windows and pull out stereos and generally make a huge mess. This lead me to do what most car owners do sooner or later, which is to install a really loud, obnoxious car alarm to alert me (and, in fact, the whole neighborhood) to such dastardly deeds. But as I sat on my balcony a few days ago, after one more evening/night/early morning of listening to various car alarms beeping, whining, screaming and whooping, I wondered if it was all worth it. I actually decided it wasn’t. I just want some peace and quiet.

It’s not as if my street is a hot-bed of car theft. I can almost guarantee that none of the car alarms I heard in the last 24 hours were caused by an actual break-in. More likely they were due to someone in the adjacent car closing their door a little too enthusiastically, or someone like me opening the door and forgetting to disengage the alarm, or in the case of my garage neighbor, due to me backing up to within 10 feet of his monstrous GMC Denali.

There’s such a thing as loving something too much. And if I can say that about my car, anyone can. I wish we could do away with car alarms and let anyone who’s that determined, just take the *&^*%$*&% thing. It’s just a car. Most of us have insurance, and if I an unfortunate enough to have to use it, I think I’ll buy something even smaller and sportier. Come to think of it, I might just leave the keys in the ignition tonight and see what happens. Ironically, we’ll all get a better nights sleep if we leave the keys in the ignition and the alarms turned off.

Philomena

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Be afraid!

I’m not much of a linguistics expert, but I do have an unexplainable fascination with the meaning of words. I especially like long words, pieced together from other languages. It often broadens the meaning of a word, far beyond what we have reduced it down to, in our modern culture. Words become richer when we know where they came from.

So it is with my new discovery of the day: agoraphobia. I was under the impression, from popular use, that it meant a fear of open spaces. My mind conjured up pictures of vast green fields and snowy mountains, Julie Andrews twirling and singing, and someone right next to her, finding it difficult to breathe.

Not so, as I found out. Agoraphobia also refers to a fear of very crowded places, like malls and theatres and airports, as it should, because “agora” is originally a Greek word meaning “marketplace”. So “agoraphobia” literally means “fear of the marketplace”!! Hmmm……a slightly different image than my Julie Andrews version, but one which makes sense because shopping does bring me out in a cold sweat. 

It might also amuse you to know that the marketplace in ancient Greece was also the public square and place for political assembly. So we can also say that agoraphobia means "fear of the political assembly". You might agree there have been some pretty scary political assemblies recently.

So, if the current political season is making it hard for you to breathe, you can always blame your agoraphobia…… 

Philomena

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Oops, I did it again

I’m three-quarters of my way through the read-through-the-bible-in-a-year. Some of it has been tough going (Leviticus) but one of my favorite parts has been stumbling across familiar verses, back in their natural habitat. Bible verses are often lifted out of context, sometimes so kids can memorize them and sometimes so we can memorize them (put them on a very small post-it and stick them to the desk). But in the extraction process they almost always get cut off from the rich context that brings them to life.

An example of this was the verse I came across not too long ago: “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).

It’s an easy one to remember; short and sweet. It’s normally used as a meditation, when the pace of life is overwhelming. “Be still…..be still” we repeat to ourselves. For most of us, that’s enough challenge for one day. We can barely get to “…….and know that I am God.”

But look at where that verse is placed:

8 Come and see the works of the LORD,
       the desolations he has brought on the earth.

9 He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth;
       he breaks the bow and shatters the spear,
       he burns the shields with fire.

10 "Be still, and know that I am God;
       I will be exalted among the nations,
       I will be exalted in the earth."   

In my self-centeredness, I had made that isolated verse all about me: about my rest and sense of inner peace. But back in context, it’s first and foremost about the power and majesty of God, who gives us the freedom to “be still” because he is always at work. I like that version much better than my own.

Philomena

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Star Power

Well, I had a few things to say about the DNC, but I have to preface everything with the profound comment of the morning……..”WOW”. As I mentioned in a previous post, I saw very few billboards on my recent trip to Alaska. But of the few I saw, I think at least 80% of them had Sarah Palin’s face on them. She is obviously hugely popular, so I assume doing something right in her current sphere of influence. Let’s see how she can handle the national and even the world stage, but what a bold choice for McCain! Let the real games begin!!

But not to let the Dems off the hook so quickly….I only kept half an eye on the National Convention, maybe because I wasn’t expecting too many surprises. What I did see was huge crowds, loud cheering, flags, balloons, bright lights and lots of enthusiasm. There were also the big, big speeches from the major players in the game: Joe Biden, Hillary Clinton, Al Gore and even Michelle Obama, But I have to confess I’m a little shocked that they still wheeled Bill Clinton out there. Really? Yes, he’s a very charismatic speaker, but in his more recent, relaxed, post-Presidential phase he’s been a lot more blunt and a lot less diplomatic, especially on Hillary’s campaign trail. Can anyone really believe he is a whole-hearted Obama supporter with words to inspire the nation? It seems I’m not the only one who is a little surprised at Clinton’s longevity at the podium.

Thankfully I had it all explained to me, by the astrologer on the radio yesterday. Now, as a Christian I feel pressure to denounce astrology in no uncertain terms. But I can’t. There is something to it that’s freakishly accurate and at the very least, mildly entertaining. But God is indeed a jealous God, and thankfully I forget most astrological predictions within 5 minutes of hearing them. Nevertheless, those 5 minutes do often make me laugh with embarrassment.

Yesterday I laughed at Bill Clinton as the astrologer informed me that his star sign is Leo. Leos (so I’m told) are charismatic, inspirational speakers and will love the spotlight for as long as it’s shining on them. Ah, so, THAT’S why he’s still going strong. Barak Obama is also a Leo. Hmmm……..”Charismatic and positive-thinking they attract not only an abundance of friends and opportunities, but manage to survive life's stormy times with style and good humour” says one website. Myself and Joe Biden are Scorpios, as the astrologer said, adept at staying in the background while offering stinging criticisms. Ahem, guilty as charged.

So, let’s see what the near future holds. I won’t be looking in the back of the newspaper to find out, but I will be fascinated to watch who triumphs in the stormy and exciting months ahead.

Philomena

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