(As an aside: I'm never certain about small words in titles - do they get capitalized or not? 'A' seems like it shouldn't be but then "I Am a Runner" looks kinda stupid.)
And, completely on topic now, I feel like a complete poser for even typing the title.
I started a C25K program back in May...or June thinking that as a good rule of fitness I should be able to run 3 miles.
It was torture.
The torture was made a bit easier by these podcasts and the image of Jesus running alongside me with robes billowing in the wind. Blasphemous? Maybe. But it seems less blasphemous than Jesus running in spandex.
The first time I had to run for 20 continuous minutes I thought the guy on the podcast had made an error and was secretly on crack; it turns out no, I really was supposed to run for 20 continuous minutes. And I did. Apparently I was the one on crack.
Which led to the discovery of the "runner's high."
I don't think my "high" is quite the same as the mythical runner's high which involves a feeling of euphoria like you could run forever. My high is more along the lines of, "I CAN STOP RUNNING!!!! I'M DONE!!!!"
But I DID manage to run my first 5k race (I use the term "race" loosely as there was no way I was coming first....or third....or even 30th so race meaning "getting to run with a bunch of strangers in a public setting" as opposed to "annihilating anyone who dares to compare their running speed to mine.") at the end of August and finished in 33:16 - not bad; slightly less than 11 minute miles which was fabulous for me.
But today.
Today was amazing.
Today was about everything I love about running. It was sunny and there were moments of God touches when I ran through sunbeams filtering through clouds and fog. So beautiful. I run on a hiking trail about 1/2 mile from my house (really so no one sees me because you know THEY ARE ALL STARING AT ME as I run by - it's true. Don't deny it) and I could smell the greenery and all the leaves on the ground and see the water and the mountains and the old pilings and mining ruins and it's just so damn beautiful it's like walking in a post card. And I had my Jesus music on and I ran and aside from the little things like lack of breath, muscle fatigue and tripping twice and almost dying, I finished.
How well did I finish?
Today I managed to run 3.11 miles in less than 30 minutes. 30 HELLO minutes!!! Less than a 10 minute mile! How awesome am I?!?!?!
Why just the approximation? Well - I had some mp3 player problems and had to restart the podcast (after one of those near-death trips) and I'm completely guesstimating that the distance I run is actually 5k (based of off walking the track laid out for a race earlier this year) but I feel that even with all those variables, I CAN say that I ran 3 miles in less than 30 minutes.
And that, my friend, makes me feel *expletive* good.
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Lenten Learnings and Easter Excitment
This journey of the last few days has been an interesting one and I find it even more intriguing that the unplanned Lenten gift, the one stumbled upon, has been the most significant.
I think I was right to cut back (mostly give up) TV and reading extra-scriptural things; I ended up spending a lot more time reading my scriptures and talking to God in the resulting quiet when the TV was not on to distract me while folding laundry or prepping dinner.
But my sugar fast has provided the biggest insights of all.
I fully admit to reverting to the mentality of a 3 year old and I struggled, like my daughter, to remember that Easter was about the atonement, crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus and not my finally getting to eat chocolate.
This last week was full of painful anticipation; I knew my days were numbered: one week, five days, tomorrow! And yet they were the longest days I endured during the whole period, to be so close and yet infinitely separated from something I adore. These feelings intensified my reading of the scriptures this week as the children and I rehearsed each day what Jesus was doing on that particular day. Every time I would get a pang for something sweet I would think: today Jesus was relaxing in Bethany; today He was administering the Last Supper and praying in Gethsemane; today - right now - He was hanging on the cross; today - right now - the world darkened. I thought it fitting that Good Friday here was rainy and dreary.
Saturday was busy and crazy running here and there with general activities and preparations for Easter with me not turning in for sleep until almost midnight. But the whole day I thought of Mary Magdalene and how she would have attended her worship services and spent the day in Sabbath activities, the whole while thinking of the body of Jesus and waiting, yearning for the moment she could tend to His body and render Him the final service she could give; I thought of all their sadness and the passing of my mother and how in the first few days of loss, sleep is almost impossible for the tears and weight of grief. Fittingly, then, I tossed and turned and got the worst night of sleep ever.
I woke up at 5am this morning giddy. The house was still. My children were sleeping. The sky was lightening. I walked out to the front room and saw my Easter box with my bags of hand picked, delectable, locally made and completely crave-able, even when I'm not fasting, chocolate and stumbled to the couch; I had already decided not to partake until I had read my scriptures. I laid down on the couch and went back to sleep, drifting in and out, for the next hour and half.
The rays of sun were beginning to peak out from behind the mountain when I finally decided that the sleep wasn't worth it and it was time to begin; I cracked my scriptures to John 20 and read, "The first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, when it was yet dark. . . ." I thought of her waiting for the earliest moment when she could slip away and go to the tomb. I thought of her tired eyes as mine burned from lack of sleep, her anticipation, her grief and then her distress on finding the tomb empty. I thought of her elation on meeting the Savior and being with Him, hugging Him, loving Him that He was alive. I ate my first bite of chocolate and my mouth was filled with ecstasy as my heart was filled with joy at the story and reality of Jesus' resurrection and that He does still live, even now, ever watching over me, ever praying for me, ever listening to me.
In that moment, I understood the gift of Lent - that in some small way I could come not only to appreciate the sacrifices of Jesus and His pain more, but that I might understand the loss of His life, how those around Him grieved and what that means to me and the joy that He took it back up again and all the blessings that fall into my life because of His work.
What a gift! What a supernal joy!
I know that my Redeemer lives.
Happy Easter.
I think I was right to cut back (mostly give up) TV and reading extra-scriptural things; I ended up spending a lot more time reading my scriptures and talking to God in the resulting quiet when the TV was not on to distract me while folding laundry or prepping dinner.
But my sugar fast has provided the biggest insights of all.
I fully admit to reverting to the mentality of a 3 year old and I struggled, like my daughter, to remember that Easter was about the atonement, crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus and not my finally getting to eat chocolate.
This last week was full of painful anticipation; I knew my days were numbered: one week, five days, tomorrow! And yet they were the longest days I endured during the whole period, to be so close and yet infinitely separated from something I adore. These feelings intensified my reading of the scriptures this week as the children and I rehearsed each day what Jesus was doing on that particular day. Every time I would get a pang for something sweet I would think: today Jesus was relaxing in Bethany; today He was administering the Last Supper and praying in Gethsemane; today - right now - He was hanging on the cross; today - right now - the world darkened. I thought it fitting that Good Friday here was rainy and dreary.
Saturday was busy and crazy running here and there with general activities and preparations for Easter with me not turning in for sleep until almost midnight. But the whole day I thought of Mary Magdalene and how she would have attended her worship services and spent the day in Sabbath activities, the whole while thinking of the body of Jesus and waiting, yearning for the moment she could tend to His body and render Him the final service she could give; I thought of all their sadness and the passing of my mother and how in the first few days of loss, sleep is almost impossible for the tears and weight of grief. Fittingly, then, I tossed and turned and got the worst night of sleep ever.
I woke up at 5am this morning giddy. The house was still. My children were sleeping. The sky was lightening. I walked out to the front room and saw my Easter box with my bags of hand picked, delectable, locally made and completely crave-able, even when I'm not fasting, chocolate and stumbled to the couch; I had already decided not to partake until I had read my scriptures. I laid down on the couch and went back to sleep, drifting in and out, for the next hour and half.
The rays of sun were beginning to peak out from behind the mountain when I finally decided that the sleep wasn't worth it and it was time to begin; I cracked my scriptures to John 20 and read, "The first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, when it was yet dark. . . ." I thought of her waiting for the earliest moment when she could slip away and go to the tomb. I thought of her tired eyes as mine burned from lack of sleep, her anticipation, her grief and then her distress on finding the tomb empty. I thought of her elation on meeting the Savior and being with Him, hugging Him, loving Him that He was alive. I ate my first bite of chocolate and my mouth was filled with ecstasy as my heart was filled with joy at the story and reality of Jesus' resurrection and that He does still live, even now, ever watching over me, ever praying for me, ever listening to me.
In that moment, I understood the gift of Lent - that in some small way I could come not only to appreciate the sacrifices of Jesus and His pain more, but that I might understand the loss of His life, how those around Him grieved and what that means to me and the joy that He took it back up again and all the blessings that fall into my life because of His work.
What a gift! What a supernal joy!
I know that my Redeemer lives.
Happy Easter.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Chocolate and that Jesus Guy
I have yeast issues.
Big ones.
I know - TMI and what the heck does that have to do with the above? I'm getting there.
I've had skin yeast infections ever since I stopped nursing my first born and my boobs sagged and created a nice hot, moist, dark environment for the little beasties to grow in; if you do the math, that's about 12 years.
12 years.
Finally, this last year, the worst symptom started (rectal itching) (and you thought the other was TMI). I'd had enough so when I went in for my annual, my nurse and I had a long chat. The long and short of it was that I had too much yeast in my system and my body couldn't fight it all off. I needed to remove sugar from my diet (GASP) (because apparently sugar not only feeds my soul but also the wee beasties) and take a butt load of probiotics. No pun intended. No sugar meant no candy, one serving of grains per day and one serving of fruit per day and NO CHOCOLATE. Be still my heart - I still have issues when I think about it.
This was toward the end of February. For some reason or another but which I cannot quite recall, I was fasting on February 28th and felt impressed that that was the time to start. Okay Lord, down the rabbit hole we go!
Within two days I started getting bad, daily headaches that I couldn't shake for several weeks.
So I did what any sane woman would do. I chopped off my hair. 8" whooshed to Locks of Love and my head felt pounds lighter.
But I still got headaches so I'm sticking with my "getting rid of sugar is E.V.I.L." diagnosis.
In the middle of March I got sick, really sick - fevers and headaches and overall yuckiness. Did you know (I'm sure it's just the placebo effect) that orange juice makes me feel so. much. better? It does. Did you know that orange juice is loaded with sugar? Yeah. Loaded. (But the headaches did go away so I'm sticking with my "orange juice makes me feel so. much. better." diagnosis.)
So I felt compelled to start the sugar free thing again; this was done with a purpose - to defeat the evil yeast - and I wanted to make sure that mission was accomplished. So I added another month. Which means that April 24th I get to eat sugar again. Which just happens to be Easter. Even though this was so not a Lent thing.
Needless to say, this has been a huge topic of conversation at our house as Mommy has different dinners than everyone else and Mommy doesn't get to eat ice cream or peanut butter pie or Eliza's first batch of "I made them all by myself (mostly)" cupcakes.
The other day we were discussing Easter at the table and my daughter (pay attention - this is the point of the whole sordid tale) said that she was looking forward to Easter because it was the day that we celebrated Mommy getting to eat chocolate.
Really.
All year we've been talking about Jesus. Talking about baptism (as she'll be 8 in November and eligible to be baptized). Reading the New Testament (we're in the Book of Acts). And yet, my daughter thinks that Easter is to celebrate the end of Mommy's temporary, never been done before, sugar fast.
I quickly corrected her and told her that Easter was the celebration of the atonement of Jesus, His crucifixion and suffering and His glorious resurrection and all the blessings that those events bring to us.
Eliza added, "And Mommy getting to eat chocolate."
Perhaps there is not a baptism in our future this year. . . .
Big ones.
I know - TMI and what the heck does that have to do with the above? I'm getting there.
I've had skin yeast infections ever since I stopped nursing my first born and my boobs sagged and created a nice hot, moist, dark environment for the little beasties to grow in; if you do the math, that's about 12 years.
12 years.
Finally, this last year, the worst symptom started (rectal itching) (and you thought the other was TMI). I'd had enough so when I went in for my annual, my nurse and I had a long chat. The long and short of it was that I had too much yeast in my system and my body couldn't fight it all off. I needed to remove sugar from my diet (GASP) (because apparently sugar not only feeds my soul but also the wee beasties) and take a butt load of probiotics. No pun intended. No sugar meant no candy, one serving of grains per day and one serving of fruit per day and NO CHOCOLATE. Be still my heart - I still have issues when I think about it.
This was toward the end of February. For some reason or another but which I cannot quite recall, I was fasting on February 28th and felt impressed that that was the time to start. Okay Lord, down the rabbit hole we go!
Within two days I started getting bad, daily headaches that I couldn't shake for several weeks.
So I did what any sane woman would do. I chopped off my hair. 8" whooshed to Locks of Love and my head felt pounds lighter.
But I still got headaches so I'm sticking with my "getting rid of sugar is E.V.I.L." diagnosis.
In the middle of March I got sick, really sick - fevers and headaches and overall yuckiness. Did you know (I'm sure it's just the placebo effect) that orange juice makes me feel so. much. better? It does. Did you know that orange juice is loaded with sugar? Yeah. Loaded. (But the headaches did go away so I'm sticking with my "orange juice makes me feel so. much. better." diagnosis.)
So I felt compelled to start the sugar free thing again; this was done with a purpose - to defeat the evil yeast - and I wanted to make sure that mission was accomplished. So I added another month. Which means that April 24th I get to eat sugar again. Which just happens to be Easter. Even though this was so not a Lent thing.
Needless to say, this has been a huge topic of conversation at our house as Mommy has different dinners than everyone else and Mommy doesn't get to eat ice cream or peanut butter pie or Eliza's first batch of "I made them all by myself (mostly)" cupcakes.
The other day we were discussing Easter at the table and my daughter (pay attention - this is the point of the whole sordid tale) said that she was looking forward to Easter because it was the day that we celebrated Mommy getting to eat chocolate.
Really.
All year we've been talking about Jesus. Talking about baptism (as she'll be 8 in November and eligible to be baptized). Reading the New Testament (we're in the Book of Acts). And yet, my daughter thinks that Easter is to celebrate the end of Mommy's temporary, never been done before, sugar fast.
I quickly corrected her and told her that Easter was the celebration of the atonement of Jesus, His crucifixion and suffering and His glorious resurrection and all the blessings that those events bring to us.
Eliza added, "And Mommy getting to eat chocolate."
Perhaps there is not a baptism in our future this year. . . .
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Lent
I'm not Catholic, not by any stretch of the imagination, but I love the idea of Lent. (Mormonism just doesn't have enough rules of it's own, dontcha know.) I love the idea of sacrificing something to try and understand what Jesus sacrificed and a measure of His pain. I love the idea of giving up my "favorite sins" to know Him better and I love the idea of laying down something I love so that Easter Sunday is that much sweeter when I get to enjoy it again.
This year I actually prayed and pondered the matter (I have been known to randomly pull things out of my butt just to have something to give up, so this is definitely a step in the right direction.) and came to the conclusion that I really needed to give up TV altogether. Just for Lent. Completely excluding any time I spend with my kids watching TV. The real aim was to give up my evening TV time in hopes that I would spend more time studying scriptures, etc.
I also gave up reading anything other than my scriptures. No books. No magazines. And (as of today because I suddenly realized that they should probably be included) blogs. Again, with the intent that I would spend more time communing with God and strengthening those habits.
Everything was going well (excluding the blog reading, which I only recently realized) until I got sick. Fever, miserable, lie on the couch and not move sick. I'm sure that someone better than I would have used this time to really talk with God and praise Him even in her trials (I did do a bit of that) but I mainly watched a lot of TV. A lot. As in I acted more like my 12 year old when sick and completely used it as an excuse not to sleep and rest but to watch lots of TV and catch up on everything I hadn't been watching for the previous two weeks.
But everything's back on track.
Sorta.
I've learned that giving up TV while trying to exercise actually works as a deterrent to exercise as TV watching is that carrot that helps me win that daily battle over "to workout or not to workout," and since this seems counter to my improved health goals that God and I have been working on, I'm letting it slide.
I've learned that I rationalize. Sometimes, I rationalize a lot. I may be watching less TV as a whole, but I can promise you that my children are watching more in the evenings so that I can watch and have it be "allowed."
I'm trying to learn how to walk the line between following the commandments (and any extra odd covenants I make with God, like, oh, LENT) with exactness (thinking - the people of Ammon) and zeal and yet not being Pharisaical. It's hard to know where that line is because (as noted above) I am prone to rationalization and laziness and yet also at times (contradictorily) I am too hard on myself.
Let me know if you have it figured out.
This year I actually prayed and pondered the matter (I have been known to randomly pull things out of my butt just to have something to give up, so this is definitely a step in the right direction.) and came to the conclusion that I really needed to give up TV altogether. Just for Lent. Completely excluding any time I spend with my kids watching TV. The real aim was to give up my evening TV time in hopes that I would spend more time studying scriptures, etc.
I also gave up reading anything other than my scriptures. No books. No magazines. And (as of today because I suddenly realized that they should probably be included) blogs. Again, with the intent that I would spend more time communing with God and strengthening those habits.
Everything was going well (excluding the blog reading, which I only recently realized) until I got sick. Fever, miserable, lie on the couch and not move sick. I'm sure that someone better than I would have used this time to really talk with God and praise Him even in her trials (I did do a bit of that) but I mainly watched a lot of TV. A lot. As in I acted more like my 12 year old when sick and completely used it as an excuse not to sleep and rest but to watch lots of TV and catch up on everything I hadn't been watching for the previous two weeks.
But everything's back on track.
Sorta.
I've learned that giving up TV while trying to exercise actually works as a deterrent to exercise as TV watching is that carrot that helps me win that daily battle over "to workout or not to workout," and since this seems counter to my improved health goals that God and I have been working on, I'm letting it slide.
I've learned that I rationalize. Sometimes, I rationalize a lot. I may be watching less TV as a whole, but I can promise you that my children are watching more in the evenings so that I can watch and have it be "allowed."
I'm trying to learn how to walk the line between following the commandments (and any extra odd covenants I make with God, like, oh, LENT) with exactness (thinking - the people of Ammon) and zeal and yet not being Pharisaical. It's hard to know where that line is because (as noted above) I am prone to rationalization and laziness and yet also at times (contradictorily) I am too hard on myself.
Let me know if you have it figured out.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Christians and Mormons
I am wild about comparative religions; I wonder why people believe what they believe and exactly what they believe. I wonder, with the pattern finding craziness of a mathematician, how beliefs interconnect and how we are all alike more than dislike.
But, along with this study, come disturbing heart shrinking moments when the veil is lifted and you see what others, in their separate beliefs, think about you.
And it hurts.
No matter how many times I hear "speak the truth with love," I always return to what they really mean to say which is more along the lines of the words "cult," "not the REAL Jesus," and "you're not really saved and your mom's not really in heaven," and my heart gets crushed every time. And I begin to wonder if any of us, with differing beliefs, can ever really be friends; how can someone be my friend when they think so little of me and the things that I hold the most precious to my heart?
But, along with this study, come disturbing heart shrinking moments when the veil is lifted and you see what others, in their separate beliefs, think about you.
And it hurts.
No matter how many times I hear "speak the truth with love," I always return to what they really mean to say which is more along the lines of the words "cult," "not the REAL Jesus," and "you're not really saved and your mom's not really in heaven," and my heart gets crushed every time. And I begin to wonder if any of us, with differing beliefs, can ever really be friends; how can someone be my friend when they think so little of me and the things that I hold the most precious to my heart?
Monday, October 25, 2010
Jinxed Bathrooms
I think I will stop using the restrooms at church; I think they are cursed for me.
In Oregon, many years ago, I went to use the restroom for "full-service" purposes and resulted in a clogged and then overflowing toilet. Nothing like trying to track down a plunger in the middle of a busy Sunday with lots of people around to witness. I tried to pretend like it wasn't really MY fault and I had just discovered the mess, but really? They knew. They. knew.
After that, I always drove home when the need struck. (Thankfully we lived 1/2 mile from the meetinghouse.)
Yesterday, I just had to pee. No. big. deal. When I finished, I put soap on my hand and went to faucet. Here they have the automatic kind where you wave your hand under the spout. No dice. I waved under both faucets, looking I'm sure like a silly ape to the unknowing, but ended up walking down the hall to another bathroom, carrying soap in my left hand the whole time.
Cursed, I tell you! Church bathrooms are cursed!
Either that or cleanliness isn't really next to godliness and I should just skip the handwashing next time....
Oh - and for even more Sunday fun, the lesson in YW was on Optimism.
I know. Very timely.
I swear that I get the message God; living it just isn't as easy as I would like!
In Oregon, many years ago, I went to use the restroom for "full-service" purposes and resulted in a clogged and then overflowing toilet. Nothing like trying to track down a plunger in the middle of a busy Sunday with lots of people around to witness. I tried to pretend like it wasn't really MY fault and I had just discovered the mess, but really? They knew. They. knew.
After that, I always drove home when the need struck. (Thankfully we lived 1/2 mile from the meetinghouse.)
Yesterday, I just had to pee. No. big. deal. When I finished, I put soap on my hand and went to faucet. Here they have the automatic kind where you wave your hand under the spout. No dice. I waved under both faucets, looking I'm sure like a silly ape to the unknowing, but ended up walking down the hall to another bathroom, carrying soap in my left hand the whole time.
Cursed, I tell you! Church bathrooms are cursed!
Either that or cleanliness isn't really next to godliness and I should just skip the handwashing next time....
Oh - and for even more Sunday fun, the lesson in YW was on Optimism.
I know. Very timely.
I swear that I get the message God; living it just isn't as easy as I would like!
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Religion, Family and Sunshine
We have had so much sunshine. And warmth. I was even able to plunge into the ocean. (Of course, that's not saying much.) I've been wearing shorts. And fanning myself. And turning on the ac in our car.
I. love. it!! I feel like summer and spring and all good things warm have finally descended on our little island, just when I despaired of ever seeing them again.
****
I'm still working on the anger/marriage thing. I find that I have a lot of anger revolving around my faith and my family. Robert hasn't really come to church with us since his father arrived to help us build our house, opting instead to help his dad. His dad has no faith and doesn't like relaxing at home so he's been working seven days a week. I understand that Robert is wanting our house built and wanting to help his dad while he can. I also understand that he feels guilty sitting and relaxing while his dad is working so hard to build our house.
But....
As I sit alone with my children in church, I feel resentful. And alone.
Robert is the only member in his family; his parents raised him Catholic although neither his mother nor his father seem to have any religious life anymore. When we married in the temple, no one in his family could come. 12 years later, that's still a sore point. When his whole family wants to go out to eat or go out as a family on Sunday, we have been the abstainers. And that has been a sore point.
My frustration, though, is that I feel that all that resentment comes down on me. After all, they did not raise their son to have those beliefs and they feel that he does NOT currently hold those beliefs and only makes such choices to please me, but I am the evil Mormon girl who has torn their family apart.
I have lived with this for the last 12 years and now, when we have an opportunity to stand together and for Robert to show his beliefs, his choice is to work with his father and NOT to accompany me to church.
And that bothers me.
It also bothers me to sit there during the sacrament and have my children pester me about what we're doing tonight, not being able to find clothes, are they going to get candy, what do I think. . . .sometimes I feel like standing up and yelling, "SIT DOWN! BE QUIET! AND FEEL THE LOVE OF JESUS!!!"
Clearly, that would be contrary to the Spirit.
So I sit. And I stew. And I pray for the resentment to be gone.
But every week it seems to rear its head.
How do I let go of all this anger and expectation and resentment and just worship God and seek to SHOW my children by my own choices how to worship and be reverent?
****
Previous statement aside, after posting all my baggage on my blog, I am feeling remarkably light and much happier. Maybe it's just all that aforementioned sunshine. . . .
I. love. it!! I feel like summer and spring and all good things warm have finally descended on our little island, just when I despaired of ever seeing them again.
****
I'm still working on the anger/marriage thing. I find that I have a lot of anger revolving around my faith and my family. Robert hasn't really come to church with us since his father arrived to help us build our house, opting instead to help his dad. His dad has no faith and doesn't like relaxing at home so he's been working seven days a week. I understand that Robert is wanting our house built and wanting to help his dad while he can. I also understand that he feels guilty sitting and relaxing while his dad is working so hard to build our house.
But....
As I sit alone with my children in church, I feel resentful. And alone.
Robert is the only member in his family; his parents raised him Catholic although neither his mother nor his father seem to have any religious life anymore. When we married in the temple, no one in his family could come. 12 years later, that's still a sore point. When his whole family wants to go out to eat or go out as a family on Sunday, we have been the abstainers. And that has been a sore point.
My frustration, though, is that I feel that all that resentment comes down on me. After all, they did not raise their son to have those beliefs and they feel that he does NOT currently hold those beliefs and only makes such choices to please me, but I am the evil Mormon girl who has torn their family apart.
I have lived with this for the last 12 years and now, when we have an opportunity to stand together and for Robert to show his beliefs, his choice is to work with his father and NOT to accompany me to church.
And that bothers me.
It also bothers me to sit there during the sacrament and have my children pester me about what we're doing tonight, not being able to find clothes, are they going to get candy, what do I think. . . .sometimes I feel like standing up and yelling, "SIT DOWN! BE QUIET! AND FEEL THE LOVE OF JESUS!!!"
Clearly, that would be contrary to the Spirit.
So I sit. And I stew. And I pray for the resentment to be gone.
But every week it seems to rear its head.
How do I let go of all this anger and expectation and resentment and just worship God and seek to SHOW my children by my own choices how to worship and be reverent?
****
Previous statement aside, after posting all my baggage on my blog, I am feeling remarkably light and much happier. Maybe it's just all that aforementioned sunshine. . . .
Sunday, April 18, 2010
The Third Sunday of Easter
As today is Sunday, I wanted to go to church. I looked and couldn't find an LDS meetinghouse anywhere close (we've been walking every where). So, since I had fallen in love with the building anyway, I attended mass at the St. James Cathedral.
It was an awesome, awesome service.
The liturgy had two main parts: one from the book of Acts regarding the disciples speaking with the risen Jesus when he told them to cast in their nets and the nets were filled with so many fish that they could not lift them onto the boat and another from the Gospel of John when Jesus asks Peter if Peter loves him.
Before the liturgy, a woman spoke (I love the number of women that are involved in the service) about listening to the scriptures and placing ourselves in the story and the importance of remembering that the scriptures are alive. It struck my heart that I can't truly remember the last time I thanked God for the Bible and the Book of Mormon. How often I take sacred texts for granted! These scriptures are literally God's word to me. What a wonderful gift!
So much is said on the differences of religion, on my God versus your god. Even within Christianity, we are often more divided than unified and often stress harsh judgments due to differing beliefs even going so far as to prevent others from heaven or to cast them to hell. In this moment at mass, I was struck with the truth that we are all God's children and insomuch as we have faith and love for Him in our hearts and seek to serve Him, how could He ever cast those offerings away? Such condemnation seems out of place for the God I know and serve.
I am grateful that I was able to attend mass this morning. Grateful that as I reveled in the sunshine and the beauty of spring, that I arrived at the Cathedral to hear that we were celebrating the Third Sunday of Easter and to smell all those beautiful lilies.
Such a gift.
Praise be to God.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
O Mother, Where Art Thou?
My point, though, is that this bittersweet year has got me thinking about who I am as a woman and what marriage means and what is my place in it. Believing my marriage to be an eternal bond, what does this say about my situation/life in the eternities? I appreciate that in the eternities I will be a better person, a complete and holy person, and so will my husband. Perhaps that will make all the difference. But I am still uncertain as to what that means.
I feel as though when I contemplate the next life, I can glean some information from my Heavenly Father and from Jesus. But at the end of the day, they are men. They hold the priesthood. They are the kings of a patriarchal setup.
So where does that leave me since I definitely don't have a penis and have no desires to acquire one?
I have been wondering about my Heavenly Mother and wondering about what she does. It seems so counter to the spirit and to who I believe Heavenly Father to be that Mother would just be a spirit child making shadow, flitting about in the background but never doing anything of substance for Her children. My heart despairs of that being my eternal lot.
And yet I find it hard to combat the fact that, from my belief's standpoint, the heavens are so silent as to who She is and what She does. All the prophets have said is that She exists, which in and of itself is a great comfort to me.
And I sorrow at the fact that She seems to have no investment in my mortal pains. My Savior is here and so is my Father, but where is my Mother?
Am I doomed to be as silent as She?
Monday, April 5, 2010
Lenten Learnings
The drought has ended and I can now begin to write all the random thoughts that pop into my head on an hourly basis.
Easter was fabulous; General Conference was amazing and it was a lovely way to start Easter - lounging in our pj's, kids blitzed out on chocolate and prophets and apostles speaking in the living room; I love cable.
My Lent experience was different than I expected. I learned something about myself and about Lent. First, I love facebook. I have missed hearing about my friends and connecting, even in just short little blurps. I also missed all these darn blogs. I miss my computer friends. In all, I don't think I'm going to give up all my internet passtimes again, but I think it was a good thing to give up once.
Secondly, I have learned that Lent is a lot like fasting; it's less about what you're giving up and more about what you are replacing it with. While I found that I had more time in general and my husband complained less on my being plugged into a computer, I didn't feel more overtly spiritual than I do on any other given day of the year. I found that I need to be better about adding the spiritual components to my life - in particular, regular prayer and scripture study.
Thirdly, I discovered that the pangs of Lent are similar to the pangs of fasting in that they remind me, "Hey - shouldn't you be thinking about God?" And I loved that. I find myself having more conversations with God throughout the day and I have found myself - while not quite perfectly regular in regards to the prayer and scripture study - more attentive to that part of my life.
So, moving forward, I am back on Facebook and back here and even back robbing people on Mafia Wars - although I must admit that some of the appeal of that game has waned. And I am still having convoluted and dramatically crushing thoughts that I would love to share....but not this morning. I'm finding myself a bit to drained and I'm sure that whatever I typed would come out being overly maudalin, even for me.
Easter was fabulous; General Conference was amazing and it was a lovely way to start Easter - lounging in our pj's, kids blitzed out on chocolate and prophets and apostles speaking in the living room; I love cable.
My Lent experience was different than I expected. I learned something about myself and about Lent. First, I love facebook. I have missed hearing about my friends and connecting, even in just short little blurps. I also missed all these darn blogs. I miss my computer friends. In all, I don't think I'm going to give up all my internet passtimes again, but I think it was a good thing to give up once.
Secondly, I have learned that Lent is a lot like fasting; it's less about what you're giving up and more about what you are replacing it with. While I found that I had more time in general and my husband complained less on my being plugged into a computer, I didn't feel more overtly spiritual than I do on any other given day of the year. I found that I need to be better about adding the spiritual components to my life - in particular, regular prayer and scripture study.
Thirdly, I discovered that the pangs of Lent are similar to the pangs of fasting in that they remind me, "Hey - shouldn't you be thinking about God?" And I loved that. I find myself having more conversations with God throughout the day and I have found myself - while not quite perfectly regular in regards to the prayer and scripture study - more attentive to that part of my life.
So, moving forward, I am back on Facebook and back here and even back robbing people on Mafia Wars - although I must admit that some of the appeal of that game has waned. And I am still having convoluted and dramatically crushing thoughts that I would love to share....but not this morning. I'm finding myself a bit to drained and I'm sure that whatever I typed would come out being overly maudalin, even for me.
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