Posting later than usual. I usually have these written on Thursday night to post as soon as the link-up page goes up. (I’m on the West Coast so it’s 10 p.m. PDT for me.) Last night, however, my mind was a little too scattered so I decided to just skip this week. Then, I was awoken this morning by my clowder (the word for a collective of cats) who apparently can see the bottom of their food dish and felt that 5 a.m. was an appropriate time to tell me. (Cats, you are SOL. Go wake up the other adult human.) So… here we go!
Prayer request #1. I’ve been chosen to speak at the Promise Walk for Preeclampsia in San Jose this year. (My fundraising page will be public soon.) They’d like to use my 5-7 minute spiel as a fundraising piece so I’m having to get it written by this weekend. Could y’all pray that I can do this? I have no fear of public speaking but I do need to get this written. Please and thank-you.
Prayer request #2. I know I’ve been really vague about my special intention for the last two weeks and I appreciate everyone who has been praying for it. Could you please continue praying for discernment for those involved, that I would be able to forgive, and that I would have consolation and peace in the midst of the waiting game that is going on? Thanks!
A good definition of ABA. For those who read my Simple Woman’s Daybook posts, you probably see me mention ABA therapy every week. This is a good explanation of what it is. For those who don’t have time to read the article, it’s a methodology for working with autistic kids where you achieve the behavior desired through reinforcing it and you modify the behavior by modifying the antecedent (what comes before the behavior).
Brett still needs a mama. Iris finally has a family who have adopted her (I think they passed court this past week!) and they will hopefully be on their way home with her and her new little brother in a week or so.
Special intention. Thank you to everyone who has been praying for us for the last month. Please continue to pray for discernment for all who are involved and for me to be able to forgive people for the ways that they have wronged me.
Lent. For those who missed it, Beth Anne won my “Pick Jen’s Lenten Discipline” contest. I’m glad it was her because Kelly of This Ain’t The Lyceum had threatened promised to buy me a hair shirt if she won. Beth Anne assigned me the disciplines of finding a church to pray in 1-2 times a week and getting a devotional to do daily reading during the next 40ish days.
Raindrops falling on my head. I think we’ve had storms every couple days for the last week or so. It’s not enough to get California out of the severe drought we’re in but it sure helps. We even had thunder and lightning up in my neck of the woods last night! That was pretty exciting. (It’s not as common here as it is in the Midwest.)
The title of this post. It wasn’t my best week ever — I’m a VH1 addict… or at least I was back when I had cable or satellite and I used to watch the show “Best Week Ever” all the time. I used to watch stuff like “I Love the 90’s” and “Celebrity Fit Club” all the time which I cannot imagine watching now! I kind of wonder if it and MTV even show music anymore.
“Son of God” People are astonished that I have no desire to see the “Son of God” movie. I keep telling them… the book is better! *rimshot* In all seriousness, I’m not a film person — I’d rather read a book than watch someone’s attempt at recreating it.
Pick my Lenten discipline! I’ve decided to take a page from Fr. James Martin, S.J. and allow *someone else* to pick my Lenten discipline for this year. To enter the contest, click here to find the lovely Rafflecopter. The pre-reqs are super easy: leave me a comment and like this blog’s page on Facebook. I suck at updating it so it’s minimal as far as impact to your Facebook wall.
Rain! I replaced my Old Navy flip-flops a couple days ago and wore them out. It started raining shortly after. You’re welcome, northern California. It’s not stopping me from wearing my flip-flops though. 😉
Sibling rivalry. Daniel climbed into my lap a few minutes ago, wrapped in the afghan my mother-in-law made for my husband when she was pregnant with him 36+ years ago. I sent Jon to go fetch Daniel’s own “mommy blankie” which I made for him when he was a red panda cublet in utero 5 (!!!) years ago. Daniel followed after him, dragging Jon’s afghan like Linus with his blankie. The little monster is back on my lap snuggled up with his own blankie. Edda is sitting on the back of the recliner meowing at me to make Daniel go away because I am *HER* mommy.
Smelly box. One of Daniel’s ABA tutors noticed him smelling his feet and getting excited about me putting alcohol gel on his hands so she suggested a “smelly box” where I put stuff like lip gloss, lotion, and other things he can smell instead of his feet or a pen. (He gets a rather “colorful” face from markers.) Any ideas for things to stick in there or what scents to put in?
And yes, I did get “Smelly Cat” stuck in my head while typing this.
Special intention. For those praying for my special intention, especially in regard to forgiveness, I wanted to let you know that the prayers for forgiveness are working. Please continue praying for discernment. Thanks from the bottom of my heart.
What makes a saint. Reading Simcha Fisher’s post on “Bathwater Saints”, thoughts on John Dear parting ways with the Jesuits, and the America Magazine article on Pedro Arrupe has made me ponder what it means to be a saint this week. One of the things that has become clear to me is that the saints practice obedience to God in a really radical way, like Pedro Arrupe accepting his removal from leadership and being obedient to Bl. JPII even if it hurt. In the case of John Dear, the dust hasn’t settled yet though it’s seeming (to my uneducated mind) like his work became an idol for him and his vows of obedience were compromised. Being obedient to God and to people in authority over us is hard (and I feel like a total hypocrite saying what comes next) but it’s what separates us from the world.
#first world problems. I saw this article about a women whose doctor refused to give her birth control on my Twitter feed. My first thought: OMG!!! Sassy magazine is now grown up!!! (Those who read Sassy in the good old days will understand this.) My second thought: maybe you need to find another doctor? I’m sorry you were inconvenienced, princess, but maybe this is for your own good. The Pill can cause blood clots, strokes, abnormal bleeding, nausea and a host of other side effects that a doctor needs to be aware of. Going to a walk-in clinic to get it filled is not a good move.
In all seriousness, I’m kind of amazed at how completely unsympathetic I am to this woman. Then again, I’ve had so many adverse reactions to birth control that I’m of the opinion that if you’re going to be on the Pill, you need to be monitored by a doctor. I also have PCOS (one of conditions that the Pill is usually prescribed to treat) and found that the Pill just masked my symptoms and meant that it took 5 years to be diagnosed (OK… to be fair, I was pregnant during a chunk of that time). The info gleaned from NFP (even with my crappy and erratic charting) has been more useful for treating my PCOS than the Pill ever was.
Consider the message you send. A couple of the mommy bloggers I read are obsessing about their sons’ girlfriends (and of course, they’re dating non-Catholics) and how their son is henpecked. Ummm… ladies? Consider that your son will likely date and marry someone very much like you so if you think your future daughter-in-law is a shrew, you might want to take a look in the mirror. The things we tend to despise in other people are the things we despise in ourselves. (Just sayin’.) And really… be thankful your kid is going to *church* on Sunday. If he’s going with his girlfriend, he’s at least hearing the Gospel (yes, the same one being preached at Our Lady of Perpetual Responsibility, the parish you attend) and not drifting away from God.
Seriously y’all, attempt to show some grace. A teacher at a Catholic middle school in Butte, Montana was fired for becoming pregnant out of wedlock. (Story here.) It’s a contractual issue in which the pregnancy violates the stipulation about being faithful to Catholic teaching and she *did* sign that part of the contract so her hands are tied. (This is also Butte which is the hotbed of traditional Catholicism in Montana and it’s in the Diocese of Helena which tends to be a really conservative diocese.)
What I object to: Fr. Jim Martin, S.J. mentioned an article about it on his Facebook page and there are a few people who made really snotty remarks about how maybe the school should hire women who can control themselves. Yeah… y’all are doing a freaking lovely job of representing grace, Jesus, and the Church. How about giving her credit for choosing to keep the baby instead of having an abortion?
A special call for postcards. For those who haven’t heard of it, Postcrossing is a site where you can sign up to send a postcard to a random person internationally; and when that person receives the card, your address will come up so that someone can send one to you. I have an interesting collection of postcards from all over now and I even have an account for Daniel so we can collect them for him for when he gets older.
Anyway, one of the people who runs it is speaking at a conference and is talking about the joy of receiving a postcard in the mail. To sweeten it, she’s trying to collect a bunch of postcards for attendees so they can have THEIR. VERY. OWN. POSTCARD. from around the world. You don’t need to put your address on it but I know that a postcard from wherever you live would be FABULOUS to an attendee. If you’re interested, the details are here.
My special intention. For those praying for me since last week, I still can’t divulge the nature of my special intention but I appreciate all your prayers. If you’d like to know how to pray a bit more specifically, please pray for discernment for us and for the other parties involved. (And yes, Daniel is fine.) Thank you so much!
The parishioner who called me on Monday night. I’m not supposed to have favorites but she is definitely one. The reason she’s on my “Five Favorites” this week: she called not to ask how Daniel was doing but to ask how *I* was doing. I realize that this is actually paying back the calls I made to her when her husband was in the hospital last fall and when she was in the hospital this spring; but it just really helps me to be strong when I know that I can call her or her husband and they’re standing behind me and praying for strength for *me* during times like Monday when stuff is going down and I really don’t know how I’m going to make it.
This is not to say that I don’t have other people in the congregation who pray for me and take care of me — she just happened to be that person on Monday.
Deux
The parishioners who transformed our fellowship hall into a 50’s diner last Wednesday. They created a booth out of some spare pews and a table, they laid down checkered floor stuff, they hung records from the ceiling, the waitstaff was all in 50’s garb… It was freaking awesome and the evil twin and his wife were impressed. Then again, these are the same people who put together a Haunted Hallway for Halloween, a four-star restaurant in the fellowship hall for Valentine’s Day (and it seriously looks like something out of Sunset magazine, and built a fountain in our parking lot last summer for the parish picnic.
Trois
Jenny Lawson’s book. She is freaking awesome, y’all. I haven’t had as many chances to read as I would have liked this past week but every time I sit down to read, I howl with laughter. I’m currently reading the chapters about her move to rural west Texas with the foxen, the scorpions, the squirrels, and everything else.
Quatre
Daniel’s laugh and smile. I know I’m totally biased because it’s my kid but seriously, it can both make me smile and bring me to tears (in a good way). He is the light of my life.
Cinq
Silence. It’s been sorely needed the last couple days. It’s why this post is being written at 2:00 a.m. — I need some time where Jon and Daniel are asleep and I can be alone in my thoughts. Daniel has school tomorrow/today (it *is* technically Wednesday) so I’ll get some needed quiet time then as well.
Amanda of Worthy of Agape is hosting a link-up of conversion stories and as I’m a convert, I thought I’d share mine. (How many are you surprised? Leave me a comment and let me know if you are.)
My parents aren’t religious and raised us without a faith. My dad is pretty much secular humanist/atheist material and my mom was raised Episcopalian but is more of a Buddhist these days. (She has said, however, that she would totally become Lutheran if Jon was the pastor of the church in town which is a pretty big compliment to him.) Despite this, I grew up with a belief in God even if I wasn’t entirely sure who or what God was.
There are a couple of events that stand out:
[+] When I was 6, my neighbor Mrs. G invited the evil twin and I over to bake cookies at Christmas. After we finished baking, she read the Christmas story to us from a book of Bible stories for kids. Sean (the evil twin) and I both loved having people read to us so we asked her to keep going and ended up hearing all about Jesus’ ministry, the Cross, and His resurrection. I don’t know if she realizes it but almost 27 years later, I point to that afternoon of baking cookies as the place and time when the seed of the Gospel was planted in me.
[+] When I was 9 or 10, I was pretty much an avowed atheist and used to daydream about someone stepping up and proving that the Bible was a fake book meant to deceive people. Thing is, I could picture people like Mrs. G and her family as well as my friend Emily still believing and continuing to worship God even after and I think God used that to show me that there was something there that I wasn’t seeing. I also unfortunately had a run-in or two with people who tried to aggressively “win my soul to Christ” which made me more determined *NOT* to believe.
[+] The summer before 5th grade, my friend Emily invited me to go to camp with her church at Camp Hammer. I went with her and enjoyed myself. We studied the story of Joseph and his brothers from Genesis, memorized Scripture, enjoyed ourselves, etc. One of the counselors talked me into inviting Christ into my heart which I did because I wanted to please her. It didn’t totally stick because I went back to my regular life after camp but the seed didn’t completely die but instead stayed dormant until I hit middle school.
When I hit middle school, something in me wanted more. I started praying the Lord’s Prayer as kind of a “covering my bases” situation so that if this Jesus stuff was true, I might not be risking a trip to Hell. (I didn’t know it at the time, but I was totally living out Pascal’s Wager.) I also tried to teach myself as much as I could about Christianity. Mrs. G and her husband told me that they would totally take me to church if I wanted but I didn’t accept because I was completely afraid that people would find out that my parents weren’t religious and give me a hard time for not converting them.
When I hit eighth grade, the depression started in and it got worse when I hit high school. Looking back 18 years later, I can see how completely ill I was mentally and emotionally. I started thinking about death and probably wouldn’t be here today if God hadn’t finally made Himself real to me in the spring of 1995. On one really bad night (which I don’t talk about even in passworded posts), I ended up giving my life to Christ. After that, I sought to educate myself on Christianity and what people believed, buying out almost the entire section of religious books at my local bookstore. My friend Kyle invited me to church with him and I got involved in the choir there. I became part of a community who loved me because I was Jen and not because my parents were there.
During my freshman year of college, I discovered that I hadn’t been baptized (long story) so I went to the pastor of my college church and asked him if I could be baptized. I expected a lecture and an inquisition on my faith but got the following answer: “How’s a week from Sunday?” I was baptized during Memorial Day weekend of 1999 in a baptismal font (with warm water) by a guy in a Harley Davidson shirt and swim trunks. I’m sure Easter Vigil baptisms at a Catholic church are prettier but this worked.
It’s been 18 years since that night in the spring of 1995 and it’s amazing to me now (18 years later) that I’ve been Christian for a longer portion of my life than I was a non-believer. I’m married to a Lutheran pastor and have a degree in Religious Studies because I never quite stopped trying to learn about what people believe. 🙂 It blows people away that I’m a convert because I apparently “talk a good game”. As much as I wish I’d been raised in the faith, I think my background gives me an advantage because I can talk to people about faith things and do so knowing how not to completely screw it up. I can also look at the last 18 years and see the things I’ve been able to do because I chose to say “yes” that night. I’ve taught Bible studies in medium security prisons, taught Koine Greek to prisoners, held the hands of dying people, preached sermons, sung special music with Jon, had some life-changing conversations, and learned about some fascinating sub-cultures (I am a religious sociologist at heart).
The song “Who Am I” by Casting Crowns describes all of this well:
Brett still needs a mama. Iris finally has a family committed to her and they are in the homestudy stage. Kaia has met her family and they are in love with her!!! 🙂
Random Act of Kindness. Those who know me on Facebook or Twitter have heard this already but I’ll tell it again.
I’ve been having a really tough week. My brother is moving out of state at the end of the month and he and I had a tough conversation this weekend because he’s stressed and I unfortunately can’t fix it. (Nothing really bad — I just can’t get into the details until he makes some of them public on Facebook.) Everyone who I talk to about the move mentions Sean (my brother) being at the hospital with me the night they almost put Daniel on ECMO and I hit the breaking point with that on Monday night. I had a serious cry and barely got sleep so Tuesday, I was tired to the point of nausea. (I had to cancel Daniel’s ENT appointment because I was in no shape to drive.)
Wednesday, I had the radio off while I was driving up to Sacramento and was praying aloud about how stressed I was and how I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the day because it was going to be long. I was also praying about Daniel’s peds appointment because doctor’s appointments with him can be either hellish or good — there’s no in between. I stopped at the drive-thru $tarbux because I needed caffeine and the car in front of me was blocking me from being close to the speaker so it took a few tries to communicate my order. When I got up there, I was reaching for my debit card when the barista told me that the car in front of me had paid for my drink.
…
I started sobbing and probably scared the barista but it was seriously what I needed. Given that coffee is usually on my no-no list (stupid ulcers!), you can definitely say I enjoyed my latté a whole lot more. Seriously though, it was a total answer to prayer.
The appointment. Daniel’s appointment went well — he’s high-maintenance enough health-wise that we have to check in with his pediatrician more often than just the yearly Well-Child appointments. When we were there on Wednesday, she had made sure her scheduler put us in when the clinic was likely to be fairly empty so Daniel could run around and open/close doors to his heart’s content while she and I followed him and talked. He allowed her to examine him without objecting too much and she’s satisfied with his growth at the moment. She had also FINALLY (!!!!!) received Daniel’s MRI’s from his previous neurologist at Sutter and was amazed when I told her exactly what was going on in the report using words like “demyelination” and talked about how the lack of myelin on the neurons meant that the information wasn’t being transmitted as quickly. (My undergrad Biology classes were definitely not a waste of my time even if I didn’t end up being pre-med and heading to medical school.) I should have told her about pwning the residents who made up the entourage of Daniel’s pediatric neurologist last year when I was using words like “methodology” and “antecedent” to explain ABA to them after the neurology resident dealing with us had spoken to me condescendingly.
Cuddlebug time. I had another opportunity to have a sleepy boy in my lap and sing him to sleep on Tuesday night. He didn’t feel the need to nap yesterday or today and is still (at 9:50 p.m. as I’m typing these) running around the living room like a live wire. Oh well… there will be other opportunities.
Baseball. My Giants play Marie’s Orioles tomorrow. I have a feeling that there will be some trash talking over Twitter during the game. 😉 Then again, my Giants have been sucking lately so some of it will probably be warranted. Of course, the worst thing is that I live with a Dodgers fan… and they’re at the top of their division while my boys are at the bottom.
Inside Westboro Baptist Church. I’m currently reading Banished by Lauren Drain and while it is disturbing because of the sheer crap that church teaches their young, it is fascinating how they lived “normally” in the world but were also completely separated from it. It shouldn’t astound me how severely brainwashed those poor people are but it does. I haven’t gotten to the part where she has a change of heart and I’m kind of looking forward to that.
