Questions

I ripped the following excerpt out of a church bulletin a while ago, and it's languished on my desk ever since. Not sure where to put it for safekeeping, I decided to put it here.

The following questions were attributed to a sermon by Margaret Crockett, who "asks twelve additional questions as she invites us to hear Jesus' question to Bartimaeus and ready ourselves as He puts the question on us. Really, it is a vital challenge to open ourselves to healing by daring to spell out to God what we most deeply long for and urgently need."

Our priest is a cerebral sort of guy.

He adds, "I remember seeing a rabbi hold up his Bible and say to an audience, 'Here we have the answers ... but what good are the answers if we don't have the questions?'"

Do I want help?

Do I want to feel better?

Do I want to be included, or would I rather feel sorry for myself?

Do I want to assume the risk and responsibility of a relationship, or would I rather stay alone?

Do I want to love and be loved?

Can I let go of my anger?

Can I forgive?

Do I want to get well?

Am I willing to give up the power of pain?

Am I ready to let go of inner sickness and inner illness?

Am I ready to let go of attitudes that keep me unhappy and paralyzed with anger and bitterness?

Am I ready to forgive so that the inner parts of my heart are opened to another's love and goodness?

Am I ready to stop punishing myself because of a sense of guilt?

Can I forgive myself?

Am I ready to stop feeling sorry for myself so that I can step out of my dark corner into the light?

Am I ready to risk entering God's loving presence and to get close to him?

So Funny

We went camping this weekend, and tonight, as I sat here recalling the weekend and feeling blue, a voice in my head asked, "Did you laugh?"

Did I laugh while we were packing the car, or driving there? Setting up the tents and getting organized? How about during the camp fire or at bed time?

I'm sure I did, but. Somewhere along the line I have started taking life too seriously.

My life is not how I want it, and it also happens to be going by too fast.

Picture, if you will, me. I am horizontal (fully clothed), my toes pointed, my arms straight up above my head. My fingers are hooked onto a clock flying at the speed of the expanding universe. My life zips by below me. It looks a little blurry.

I want to hit the PAUSE key. I want to launch my business and bond with my 10 year old who barely tolerates me lately. I want to make photo albums and show him how well he once tolerated me.

Maybe this is perimenopause. Maybe I'll feel better after a good night's sleep.

But let me tell you something. When I think back on my days, from now on, I will ask myself: "Did I laugh?" I will take a minute to remember what I laughed at. Maybe I'll even laugh again.

Alarm Clock

"Ava. Can you stop kicking me? I'm trying to sleep."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't even realize I was doing that!"

A few minutes later.

"Ava, can you stop clocking me in the head with your elbow?"

Last Week of Fourth Grade

Today I went to your school gymnasium to watch the local Kiwanis give your entire class certificates for bringing up at least one grade. All the kids managed to do it, and six kids were chosen as super bugs because of great grades and a helpful attitude.

During the assembly, I sat with Ava and didn't really talk to anyone else. Mostly I convinced Ava that she didn't need to go to the bathroom, and I watched you sitting on the floor with the rest of your class. You wore a blue t-shirt, and your buzz cut was growing out a bit. On the way back from getting your certificate, you did a happy shuffle-walk thing that made me smile.

Afterward, as I walked down the crowded hallway to leave, someone behind me touched my arm. I turned and was for some reason surprised to see you. You smiled and said, "Hi, Mom." I raised my hand to wave and said, "Hey, great job, Ben!"

You didn't hear me, though. You were already heading down the corridor, making your way among the throng of kids.

Finally, an Excuse to Blog

Tonight, I happened on this post by KB Squared. I've followed her blog almost since she started blogging, waaaay back in the day. You know, 2007.

Her touching thoughts about mommy blogging's earlier days got me reminiscing along with her, and I couldn't take my eyes off of her awesome artwork. It took nearly five minutes before I saw at the bottom of the bloggers' tombstone: "wondermom.com."

Whenever another blogger mentions my blog, that she connected with my writing... I get all happy. Rainbows and butterflies appear all around my head, and I hug everyone around me, saying, "I love you, man," and weeping a little.

So yes, I'm drunk on a blog compliment. I'm a blog compliment lush.

For awhile all my posts would have been angsty self reflection or tales of massaging people at the school clinic. Which, in hindsight, doesn't sound so uninteresting.

However, I do have some upcoming blog fodder. This fall, we will begin homeschooling (most likely) all three of our kids (I'm pretty sure).

I've realized, Facebook is fine for brain farts. But I miss blogging. I'm going to blog again.

Come, watch as we tell our kids that that we're really homeschooling, causing them to freak the hell out. See my rose-colored glasses get all greasy, scratched, and ultimately crushed by my own mini-van as I speed away from my home screaming.

I'm trying to look at the positives.

Thanks, KB, for the shout out, for inspiring me to post, and for remembering me. I know only geek bloggers from 2004 put emoticons in there blog posts, but:

:)