Why I love the internet

Our Father and Mother Who Art.

Our Father and Mother,
Who are present in the world and in history,
Hallowed be your name
in all languages and religions.
May the message of your reign come to each of you
indigenous peoples, the humble peoples,
in the language of gospel
and not of the domination systems.
Let your will be fulfilled,
your will of sharing and peace,
for your indigenous peoples,
for the humble peoples,
even for our own society.
Let us live each day in the sisterly solidarity
that produces abundance
and living joyfully together
that all may have bread.
Forgive our massacre of cultures,
and our colonizing evangelism.
And let us not fall into the temptation of fearing to be engaged,
of fearing to offend, of fearing to suffer,
But deliver us from the violence of consumerism,
and the violence of the forces of power and domination.
For Yours is the Future, Yours the Reign
that is Coming,
Yours the Glory and Goodness for ever and ever.
AMEN

(Translated from the Spanish & doxology added, by the Rev. Grant Mauricio Gallup, Casa Ave Maria, Managua, Nicaragua, 1994)

I'm just going to stumble through this

How you celebrate Mothers' Day is not just about how your mother parented (or not), but also about how you perceive and receive your mother's parenting. Too wordy? What I mean is, my mom is probably a great mom to lots of other people, and I actually really like that. But she was not a good mom for me. I love that there have been other young women in my mom's life that she has been able to competently mother. Be that as it may, I have a difficult relationship with her. I struggle with her. She forgets that she struggled with me. I repeat the same mistakes with my daughter, but I try to be a little more aware. I am certainly more vocal. We talk A LOT in our house. As a mother, you cannot be all things to your children. As a mother inadequately mothered, sometimes I think you have no way of knowing what's adequate and what's not.

There are memories that I absolutely treasure of my mom. She was fantastic in the middle of the night when I retched with coughing. She allowed me to follow my whims and she pushed me to keep swimming, even when I hardly had time for it. She drove me everywhere, or if not everywhere, she found someone to take me.

But my mother lacked boundaries. She lacked perception about other people. She asked too much of me.

I know how to drive now, I know how to drive my kids to do what they need to do and how to allow them do what they want to do. But knowing boundaries, self-awareness, where I end and they begin...those are places where I do not have an adequate template. Maybe none of us do.

So, as we approach this mom-tacular weekend, I want to do what I do every mothers' day. Make a quick call to my mom, preferably an email. And then ignore the whole thing.

A Field Guide to American Houses

My week is full of silly stuff like fixing the broken strut on the car and coloring my hair and taking kids to the doctor's.

Free of encumbrances, I would set off, brave explorer, for the wilds of Bay St Louis. I'd flip expertly through these pages and tag each Craftsman, Prairie, Double-Shotgun, Dog-Run, Queen Anne, Greek Revival house as I passed by.

Assuming no wild weather had set me from my path, I would take myself off for a cup of coffee, a toast to myself, a nod to no one in particular. "Merci, chere Bryn Mawr, de me permettre, enfin, de profiter de ma langue vernaculaire!"

I have a confession to make.

When David announced this morning that Clelie will be ordained on June 4th and that she will subsequently no longer be on our prayer list as "our seminarian" and moreover, she will be the curate at St Timothy's Southaven, I just about screamed. I did clench my hands. I made myself take a deep breath.

I am jealous.

More than jealous, I am covetous.

Once again, woman in the wilderness.

The night before...

the first day of Sunday School.

Yes, it is the first Sunday in Lent. Yes, we have offered other formation programs, but not very well.

Yes, it is also daylight saving time.

Yes, I am totally screwed and will need an iv drip of java.

However, I know three things:

Nothing and no one is ever too late for God.

I have 2 rocking teachers along with my fine, if somewhat lame, self. They are just as loved and loving of God as I and equally okay with jumping in somewhat half-assed.

Tomorrow afternoon will involve wine and sunshine.

Shalom, ya'll!

Miserable misery me

Well, not really. BOY have I been slacking in the blogging department.

Slacking everywhere, really.

I am going to endeavor to do better.

Nothing of note at the moment, but even logging back on is a start :)