7 Quick Takes Friday
1.The new, wonderfulness of school has ended for both my kids. Last week, school was fun because the teachers didn’t give a lot of homework…NOW, well, both kids have taken WELL over 5 hours to complete 45 minutes of homework. Now, as an educator, I don’t think homework is effective means of learning. There I said it…I feel better now. Of course, my kids would say I’m the homework overlord because I expect them to produce quality work. In the name of education, I endure their whining of “it’s not fair” and “I can’t do it” and “the teacher never taught this.” Transitioning from summer’s laid back schedule to school’s hyper-organized schedule must be a circle of Mom hell(Dante’s version looks like paradise compared to what Mom’s endure).
2.I have been experimenting with Google calendar all week. I scheduled everything I needed to clean, read, write, or do, and I have been completely most of my tasks. I would give myself about an 80% rating. Next week, I will tweak calendar to make it more realistic(making a schedule at 11pm is not the best idea).
3.We successfully introduced a new vegetable or legume or whatever a lentil is into the family’s repertoire of eating. I combined it with potatoes and fresh herbs(Italian parsley, cilantro, and baby spinach blended to a dressing like consistency). Overall, we liked them which is great because lentils are pretty cheap. Cheap is my middle name…actually it is Jessica but same difference.
4.And in case you connected my first name Sarah to the middle name Jessica, I will dispel your lingering question—NO, my parents did NOT name me after Sarah Jessica Parker. I’m sure she was doing lovely things in 1981, but I am fairly certain that my parents still have no clue who she is.
5.I am so ready for Fall—cool mornings, sweaters, apple pies, big pots of soup. AND Virginia Tech football, Carolina Panthers football…Oh yeah, the NC State Fair! I have been working out solely so I don’t feel so guilty about eating my deep-fried candy bar. I feel justified in this eating deep-fried goodness because I haven’t been to the fair since 2008. I missed last year because I was on a spa getaway for my birthday present. So, I will indulge this year.
6.Did I ever mention that I really miss speaking in academic jargon? How much I love using multi-syllabic words that only have meaning within an intense literary theoretical context? I miss grad school, the community of thinkers, over-achievers, really good snacks during seminars!
7.And lastly, I love country music, and I love Sugarland. Here is my newest favorite song/video.
Thank You For the Award!
First, I would like to thank Tina at her Tinatopia for this bloggy award…it’s my FIRST blog award!
Now, the rules are simple, effortless…confess 7 random things about yourself then pass the award along…simple? Yup, I can do that, AND—
Here are 7 Random things…
1. I love PURPLE PENS! In fact, I would prefer if all written work was done in purple.
2. I’m addicted to coffee! On this note, each morning I will tweet about needing coffee…if this doesn’t happen–something is amiss.
3. The most beautiful words in the English language are spa, books, puppies, and naps.
4. Speaking of puppies, I’m a puppy person, not really a baby person. I make ALL babies cry, and no, I don’t pinch the babies. They don’t like me…
5. I have food obsessions…right now, they are Mint Milano cookies, guacamole, curry, and cupcakes(the kind of cupcakes one eats…I do have a dog named Cupcake).
6.I don’t trust picky eaters.
7. I have come to realization that Chaucer trumps Shakespeare.
NOW, this is the moment when I pass the award along its merry blog way….
1.Meet Alise at Big Mama’s Blog…snarky, serious, and sensational(awesome alliteration there, folks).
2. Meet Knighton from the Baptist Wine Club.. she recommends wines that won’t kill my budget. My husband thanks her for her frugal finds.
3.Meet Michelle since she married a Mennonite, but even if you aren’t a Mennonite, you will love her.
4. Meet Veronica since she is one of my IRL blogging friends, former co-worker(she has great stories about me, but I have stories about her.She might tell but only for a price).
And so, members of the blogging world, I thank you for the award. Now, happy blogging!
Removing the Make-up of Perfection
Today’s post focuses upon healing and restoration–a message the church needs. I’m participating in the Eighth Letter Project in which modern believer address the church’s most pressing issues.
To the Church in North America,
I greet you in the name of grace found in Christ. I greet you in the name of peace, in the name of healing, in the name of kindness—the first loves of your faith. I greet you as one who has enjoyed your comfort, your healing, your nurturing spirit. As one who considered you to be an ever affectionate, loving parent, arms flung wide open expectedly waiting for me to run into your embrace. In many ways, you were my faith parent. As a child, you cultivated my love of theater, music, and writing. I remember looking out across the sanctuary and reveling in the words of the song, the smiles of church members, the hearts shining with the light of Christ. You guided me with your gentleness, rebuked me in kindness, and clothed me in humility.
Perhaps, dear church, children are easier for you to love. They are not yet jaded with cynicism or questioning doubts. Their hearts are still soft, sensitive to the quiet whisperings of the Spirit and your teachings. But children grow up, just as I did. I don’t remember how our relationship changed from the loving parent to cool acquaintance, but it did. Your once loving arms turned cold and icy, and I saw for the first time the deep wounds you gave me.
During my years of questioning, I learned that the church mantra “come as you are” only applied to those who were ethnically equivalent to me—white, middle-class, suburban dwellers. I was convinced that the visitor welcome packets secretly directed Hispanics, African-Americans, and Asians to other churches more “suited” for those people. But the church wasn’t content with ethnic sameness. Economic favoritism pervaded your walls as well. I learned more about social hierarchy and gender bias within your walls, dear church, than outside within my “unchurched” community. Even though I fit the ethnic profile, my Goodwill clothes would never allow me into the inner circle, those blessed with your favor. You pushed me aside in favor of the wealthy. You never saw my bleeding wounds, broken heart. I finally learned to repress those things.
But as the writer of Ecclesiastes says, “there is a time for everything under heaven,” but most importantly, “there is a time to heal”–to bind up wounds. I left broken, bleeding, scars so deep. As I gazed upon you from the outside, I saw that you too were broken, secretly filled with bleeding hearts, full of deep scars. That both of us were marred with sin, guilt, and fear. I saw people with doubt, people with depression, people with pain. Finally, we stood before each other without the pretense of perfection. Our healing had begun.
But dear church, in order for us to heal, we must release the guilt, the pride, the hallow mask of perfection that we don every Sunday. When we reveal our scars to reach other, grace comes to apply the balm of love—Christ’s love. For in Christ, even in our weakest, darkest moments, we are laid bare, our bleeding hearts before Him, and He binds our wounds. Wounds of pride, sorrow, unloveliness that we cling to at the midnight hour. Our unattractive bits that we attempt to cover with our good deeds, our holiness, our pride.
Do not, sweet church, choose pride over healing. As I have come back to your doors, I see your pride welling up inside you, ready to plunge us back into the cesspools of guilt and fear and shame. As I write to you, I urge you to healing, to freedom, to Christ.
Amen.
Dear 2011 Me
One of my lovely bloggy buddies, Bethany, just re-visited her goals from 2009 that she wanted to finish in 2010. This sounded like a great idea so I’m going to write a letter, and we can next year see how well I did…
Dear Future 2011 ME,
Hi, umm…remember me, if not, please peruse all 2010 pictures. Yup, that’s what we looked like over the past 365 days. To begin, I’m hoping that you are enjoying the newer, slimmer, healthier you or me or whatever…Those 15lbs of extra you really aren’t needed…just saying. Besides, if you are going to be a TRUE Hipster Christian, then you must buy/wear skinny jeans which will require some of you to disappear.
Also, I’m sure you will be busy with your new PhD classes because you applied and got accepted—way to go on the awesome personal statement. Remember Google calendar is your friend.
Speaking of writing/scheduling, isn’t keeping up with Google Calendar amazing? WHY did you not do this sooner? Oh yeah, because you thought you could keep your entire to do list in your head. So, How did that work for ya? Like I thought, Google calendar rocks. ADMIT IT!
How much fun was your ONE YEAR blog anniversary? Did we give away cool stuff? I’m sure your posts were lovely and better each time…learning to write by writing…wasn’t this your ideal pedagogy?
If the 2010 hurricanes don’t wash the Outer Banks away, I hope you enjoyed the ocean, the pirate museum, and climbing Hatteras Lighthouse.
Don’t you feel more enlightened now that you have read all of Anna Karenina, for that matter finish all of 2010′s summer reading list…of course, good books help feed the soul.
So, I suppose we will see each other in 365 days.
Sarah Jessica
Question: Where would you like to be in 1 year?
The Waiting Room pt 1
The rain filtered down in large, dreary drops mingled with the cold, hard metallic sound of a hammer pounding. With each clang, the cheap hardware store nails were mashed into the plywood casket. The day was bitterly cold, and each drop of rain seemed to bite the rugged men digging the grave. The men cursed under their breath with each minute of this tedious job. They quietly belittled the small old lady who has requested this extravagance. “Wasn’t the usual way good enough,” each of the men grumbled in their minds but they kept quiet—she was making this job worth their while. The little lady learned their language quickly—money, money was everything in this culture.
As the men lowered the makeshift coffin into the freshly dug earth, the small gray haired, wrinkled faced lady stood alone in the midst of the funeral workers. Each complaint of those rough men only added to the loneliness of the scene. The rain added to the sorrow as it fell upon this small plot in city’s graveyard. The tombstones were broken and scattered among the weeds and rosebushes, which no longer bloomed for lack of care.
The community had forgotten this place. No one came to perform the usual rituals of placing flowers on the graves, but this lady could not forget. This freshly dug grave put a sort of life into the house of the dead. Clutching a handful of white daisies, the slight lady with frizzy gray hair wearing a pink floral print dress cried the salt tears of mourning—anger, bitterness blended with shame. She stood beside the plot staring blankly into the gaping hole and threw some dirt into the grave mumbling what she could remember of the traditional benediction—“ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” The lady walked past the crumbled edifices of the past, trying to read some of the names, which time had eroded.
A small white rose bush caught her attention for the leaves were mostly scattered about the ground, but one lone flower remained attached to the bush. Sparkling with the cold, bitter rain beating on it, this tiny rose brought a half-smile to the lips of this tired lady for it gave her a small bit of hope, and then suddenly the gusting wind blew the last rose into the mud. Turning from the funeral plot, she walked slowly to her old weather beaten Buick and drove home. The scene began to fade into the eerie black recesses of a memory.
Another Small Ripple…One Large Tidal Wave
Memory is a fickle device but oh, so glorious. I love how certain random events—riding on the back of a motorcycle, smelling a warm apple pie—conjure up a vast array of snapshots of my past, pleasant or not. Memory over time eliminates the busyness of the event by focusing on a key detail or sensory impression. Beautiful images which always live in sepia tones…ah, memory.
This memory begins as many do…I recall the sunshine, the familiar drive from Wards Road shopping area, in Lynchburg, Virginia. I’m not sure what year it was, but I was married with two kids, three dogs, and a mortgage– typical for the average American woman. That day, mom and I were driving back from shopping ,listening to the music from her childhood— the 1960′s. She remarked off-handedly that I truly missed an exciting time in the 60′s. No further remarks after that…we unloaded whatever we had bought that day, and I tucked her comment back in the recesses of my memory. I never thought much about how I missed such a turbulent social period in America—the boiling point of civil rights, women’s rights—until now.
This summer has brought the overturning of California’s Proposition 8 which should begin giving equal rights to those who have been denied the rights of heterosexual couple. A small ripple in the water.
This summer has brought a proposed Muslim community center or mosque near the hallowed Ground Zero. Still bleeding hearts gather in the streets protesting, supporting, or just trying to ignore the latest building project in NYC. A small ripple in the water.
This summer has brought the anniversary of women’s right to vote in elections. With the passing of the 19th amendment, women could begin gaining entrance and voice in the public sphere. After 90 years, women still struggle for the same rights that men have especially women in developing nations. Those caught in human trafficking, the sex trade. When do they get to speak? A small ripple in the water.
While I am no psychic, I see these small ripples gaining strength and churning up a massive tidal wave of social upheaval. We need it as a kind of mirror. A mirror shows us a reflection of how we are harboring prejudices, fears, all of which need to be purged.
Question: How do you see the overturning of Prop 8, the mosque at Ground Zero, and women’s right to vote relate to each other? Why is it so hard to notice prejudices so that we don’t need major social upheaval?
Summer has ended…my letter to the Summer of 2010…
Summer by Mark Askins
Or Better Known as Intensely Hot AND Humid so that the Weatherman counts HOW many days above 90 we have had here in the South Summer,
Either way, my dear Summer, your clutch upon the throttle of heat and humidity, long evenings full of lightning bugs, carefree splashing in the pool, sleeping in till whenever, is drawing to a close. Sure, it is hot and sticky, but your devoted worshippers have packed their book bags and are safely ensconced in bright, colorful classrooms.
Don’t worry, my dear Summer, they secretly long for your warmth, your freedom—just be patient, in a few weeks, they will remember. They will remember the beach trips, camping fires in 90 degree heat just to make s’mores, movie nights, sleepovers. So, will the older devotees of you, oh Summer, the picnics, nights outside with a cold drink…the older worshippers haven’t forgotten you, but aren’t as free to soak up the richness of your bounty.
I must say, Summer, you sure know how to end spectacularly by churning the ocean waters, atmosphere, creating huge storms in tribute to your last hurrah! No matter how violent, how marvelous your hurricanes are, the transition into Autumn will come. Don’t lose hope, Summer, just because your glorious leaves turn into rainbows and fall or cool breezes dry out the sticky, wet air.
You will return next year to see new smiling faces that replaced ones who have passed on. To examine the returning faces, seeing how they have gained new smile lines or how they have grown. We will welcome you back with open arms, but now, dear Summer, we bid you farewell.
Sarah
Question: How did you spend your summer? What would be in your letter to this fading Summer 2010?
Back to School
Tomorrow, my kids are going back to school. My oldest begins navigating the new field of middle school. He gets to change classes and keep his locker clean.
My youngest will be starting second grade. She gets to have her cubby and new classroom decorated with monkeys.
So, how do you make the first day back to school special? What traditions to do you keep?
The Coffee is Slightly Salty
Or the alternative title: Miserable Mondays…which ever you prefer.
Why is the coffee salty? No, I didn’t mix up the sugar with sodium chloride–someone has been crying in my coffee. Oh wait, that’s me. Today isn’t the easiest day for me because I truly thought I would be waking up early to go teach. But I am not.I’m aware that across the country many wonderful, amazing teachers are waking up and feeling the same way–jobless failures.
So the burning question of the day is NOW WHAT?
Honestly, I don’t know.
7 Quick Takes Friday vol. 1
1. This week, I have gotten more rejection letters, e-mails in which I may not be teaching come Fall. If you haven’t figured this out, I don’t do well with rejection especially when it comes to my education and career. I could be like the majority of Christians and comfort myself that God has better things for me. But no, I comfort myself that God created humans who made Little Debbie Fudge Brownies, pizza, Double Stuff Oreos, and Mint Milanos which is more tangible and edible.
2. August 5th was my anniversary to Mark. Mark has dutifully put up with my temper tantrums, enjoyment inconsistencies(for example: You love chocolate, but don’t like plain chocolate ice cream?), remembers my strong aversion to red roses and carnations, and foregoes the annoying sappy Hallmark cards for the funny ones… I LOVE YOU!
3. My dogs are very religious. My Ophelia must have converted to charismatic movement because she consistently falls on the floor wiggling with her paws in the air and barks in tongues. Ginger Snap, however, must be a part of the emergent church because she believes more in love than scrapping for her rights. Cupcake is an evangelical fundamentalist. He picks fights with the other two dogs over food, water, who is petting which dog–I think he even changed the channel from Bravo to Fox News when he sat on the remote. Sure, sign of a fundy.
4. I love buying school supplies and clothes for the kids. Who am I kidding? I love school supplies for me too!
5. I get bored watching most TV shows…but Shark week. I could watch for hours–provided I am not going to the beach within the next week.
6.Speaking of the beach, if you ever go to Carolina Beach, you MUST go to Britt’s Donuts. Words cannot describe the amazingness of these fried dough spheres. Now, they are only open from April to October, but I am scheming my way to getting some more of them this year.
7. And last but not least, this song puts me in a good mood every time I hear it:
If you like 7 Quick Takes, head over to The Conversion Diary because I love that blog!
