"You know, I feel gypped. I mean, we didn't have a primary today. We didn't have one yesterday. And we aren't going to have one tomorrow. Or the next day. When is Barrack going to get out there and kick some more butt?" - My Beloved, another political junky (though not exactly politically correct, using the term "gyp"), after our romantic Valentine's Day dinner.
What does it say about us when politics turns us both on?
P.S. Craig wants me to mention that he is also tipsy. I guess that explains the slur.
2.14.2008
1.25.2008
HIGH. LOW. HERO.
At Bowers House, we used to play this game where we would go around the dinner table and each tell our high point of the day, our low point of the day, and our hero of the day. Well, this is Friday, so I thought I'd make it about my week.
HIGH - Feeling as if I will get to have my dream location for our non-wedding reception; it's a wonderful little place downtown that is sort of a bookstore-bar-cafe-concert venue-art gallery. Total geek chic. It is absolutely perfect for us. The decor is books, books, plants, candles, scattered rugs, mismatched chairs, and more books. (Actually, the decor is quite reminiscent of Bowers' dining room, only more books.) I spoke with a woman who just had her vegetarian reception there and praised it highly. It looks like we'll be finalizing the plans and signing the contract early next week. Woohoo!
LOW - Well, as a chaplain, death, dying, disease are all part of my daily routine. This week was especially hard as I had some tough cases involving addictions, eating disorders, child protective services, and domestic violence. I do a fairly good job at differentiating and not carrying it home with me. But some things just wear me down and train me tremendously.
HERO - Sarah. For sharing with me such hope and joy and excitment about life, ministry, and love. Sometimes I need reminding that life is good. Really, really good. And of course, Craig gets a nod, too, for giving me the of a professional massage. My appointment is tomorrow.
If anyone out there is still reading my blog, despite my not posting in forever, play along: what are you highs, lows, and heros?
HIGH - Feeling as if I will get to have my dream location for our non-wedding reception; it's a wonderful little place downtown that is sort of a bookstore-bar-cafe-concert venue-art gallery. Total geek chic. It is absolutely perfect for us. The decor is books, books, plants, candles, scattered rugs, mismatched chairs, and more books. (Actually, the decor is quite reminiscent of Bowers' dining room, only more books.) I spoke with a woman who just had her vegetarian reception there and praised it highly. It looks like we'll be finalizing the plans and signing the contract early next week. Woohoo!
LOW - Well, as a chaplain, death, dying, disease are all part of my daily routine. This week was especially hard as I had some tough cases involving addictions, eating disorders, child protective services, and domestic violence. I do a fairly good job at differentiating and not carrying it home with me. But some things just wear me down and train me tremendously.
HERO - Sarah. For sharing with me such hope and joy and excitment about life, ministry, and love. Sometimes I need reminding that life is good. Really, really good. And of course, Craig gets a nod, too, for giving me the of a professional massage. My appointment is tomorrow.
If anyone out there is still reading my blog, despite my not posting in forever, play along: what are you highs, lows, and heros?
12.02.2007
Mawwage is what bwings us togever today...
I encourage all to read this excellent piece by Stephanie Coontz addressing the history of the church-state entanglement around marriage.
Have you read it yet? If not, click on the link and read it now.
Okay, have you read it now? What are you waiting for? It's a good column. Please don't continue on until you've read it.
Well, you did continue on, so I trust that you actually read the column. Stephanie Coontz is amazing.
Now, here is a letter I have penned to the editor of the NY Times in response to Coontz's piece. Yes, I was published today! Woohoo!
So, I want to know what you think. No, I am not asking what you think of my letter (I'm soliciting neither affirmations nor criticisms). I seriously want to know what you think about what Coontz has to say. I think it's a pretty good topic for dialogue. Especially among my clergy colleagues, yes?
So tell me, just who should be in the business of "sanctifying" anything?
Have you read it yet? If not, click on the link and read it now.
Okay, have you read it now? What are you waiting for? It's a good column. Please don't continue on until you've read it.
Well, you did continue on, so I trust that you actually read the column. Stephanie Coontz is amazing.
Now, here is a letter I have penned to the editor of the NY Times in response to Coontz's piece. Yes, I was published today! Woohoo!
So, I want to know what you think. No, I am not asking what you think of my letter (I'm soliciting neither affirmations nor criticisms). I seriously want to know what you think about what Coontz has to say. I think it's a pretty good topic for dialogue. Especially among my clergy colleagues, yes?
So tell me, just who should be in the business of "sanctifying" anything?
11.07.2007
my brother is home
At this writing, my brother Chris is safely back on U.S. soil after a seven month deployment to Iraq. Well, actually, he is not exactly on soil as he is currently flying from the East Coast to his home base on the West Coast. But he is back! And he is safe! And I am so happy I could cry. In fact, I am crying.
Now, let's just end this damn war and bring the rest of our troops home. Every big sister of a man or woman stationed in Iraq deserves to feel this overwhelming sense of joy and gratitude.
Now, let's just end this damn war and bring the rest of our troops home. Every big sister of a man or woman stationed in Iraq deserves to feel this overwhelming sense of joy and gratitude.
11.01.2007
10.30.2007
just an observation about life in a small city
Perhaps one of the biggest adjustments in moving from Chi-town to C-ville has been the change of pace. Nobody is in a hurry to get anywhere here. Perhaps because you can be anywhere within 15 minutes. And this makes for very courteous drivers. Indeed, "southern hospitality" is evident, even on the roadways:
"You go first. "
"No, after you."
Now, as a genuinely aggressive driver hailing from Chicago, I find this genteel or friendly way of driving a bit maddening. "Come on, go already!" I yell at my windshield.
Oh, but I have learned not to honk my horn. In Chicago, you honk to say, “Hey, *$%#! Get in your own lane!” or “Watch it, #$*%!” or even, “Come on, go already!” But here, when I honk, folks turn around and wave. They seem to think I am just saying, “Hello.” So, I have stopped honking. I’d hate for somebody to mistake my frustration with mere friendliness.
"You go first. "
"No, after you."
"No, please you go."
"I couldn't possibly take yout turn. You go."
"I insist, you first."
Now, as a genuinely aggressive driver hailing from Chicago, I find this genteel or friendly way of driving a bit maddening. "Come on, go already!" I yell at my windshield.
Oh, but I have learned not to honk my horn. In Chicago, you honk to say, “Hey, *$%#! Get in your own lane!” or “Watch it, #$*%!” or even, “Come on, go already!” But here, when I honk, folks turn around and wave. They seem to think I am just saying, “Hello.” So, I have stopped honking. I’d hate for somebody to mistake my frustration with mere friendliness.
10.22.2007
Anointing
In his brief life, he had experienced so much violence. If it wasn't violence in his home, it was violence in his body as cancer invaded and attacked his tiny frame. Through it all, he possessed a mischievous smile and a contagious laugh. Everyone who met him, loved him. Yes, they even fought to see who would get to love him the most.
But as parents fought with each other, with the state, with foster families, all staking their claim on that little child, ultimately, cancer won out.
We attended a family meeting at the hospital, learning what the disease had done and was doing to the boy. Those who loved him most listened to the doctors. And though the decision was difficult, their choice, their unaminous desire that he not suffer, ended their battles once and for all.
As we left the meeting and walked back to his bedside to say our goodbyes, we encountered two nurses tending to him. They had cleansed his body. They had rubbed lotion into his skin. They had anointed him, preparing his body for death.
In his brief life, he had experienced so much violence. But in those last few minutes, I believe all he felt was love.
But as parents fought with each other, with the state, with foster families, all staking their claim on that little child, ultimately, cancer won out.
We attended a family meeting at the hospital, learning what the disease had done and was doing to the boy. Those who loved him most listened to the doctors. And though the decision was difficult, their choice, their unaminous desire that he not suffer, ended their battles once and for all.
As we left the meeting and walked back to his bedside to say our goodbyes, we encountered two nurses tending to him. They had cleansed his body. They had rubbed lotion into his skin. They had anointed him, preparing his body for death.
In his brief life, he had experienced so much violence. But in those last few minutes, I believe all he felt was love.
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