~Genesis 2:25 (Young's Literal Translation)
I'm feeling shy and silly and quiet. And giddy. Ever so freakin' giddy.
I never feel this way. I'm the boss at work. Supervisory and in charge. I make decisions, I'm the go-to girl. And then, I get home, where I live with a 7year old fuzzy-haired non-leader. So, I make the decisions there, dinner, bills, shopping. I even have control of the remote, though that may have more to do with having opposable thumbs than because I rule.
In short, I'm a very independent 21st century woman, who does not need a man and can certainly function both literally and figuratively on my own. I've done it for so long now I hardly need to think about it. It just is who I am.
But that's not who I want to be.
For all my stubbornness regarding being an independent woman, there's a part of me that just wants to be Donna Reed. Or June Cleever. With a little Scarlett O'Hara mixed in for good measure.
Which feels like it flies in the face of who I have made myself out to be. But we all know there's a "work us" and a "home us."
It's just that for some reason (or maybe because of someone), I'm feeling more like not stifling that quiet and shy part of me that just wants to be taken care of and, of all things, let a man do it.
I wanna be a girl...and just a girl. Be all Tammy Wynette and stand by my man.
I'm probably one of the few people of my generation (okay, relatively few) who will vow to "love, honor, and obey" when I marry my future husband. I don't think my obedience to my husband eliminates my brain or makes me less than an equal. The man is the head of the household, spiritually at the very least. And I want it to be that way.
But I do want to have my life away from the house. My work life. So...balance.
The Bible reference. Goes back to the idea that Adam and Eve were not capable of hiding from each other. They were naked before the other, literally and figuratively, and were unashamed by this. It wasn't until sin was introduced that either felt like there might be something to hide from the other. Which is sad, because it's made humans as a whole untrusting of others.
And I don't want to be that way. I would prefer to be "naked and unashamed" with my partner/spouse. There should be no fear of him finding something out about me, or vice versa.
Yeah. I wanna be June Cleever. Ward would be a worthy partner. I'd even take Wally and Beaver. However, I'd prefer that Eddie Haskell just stayed home.
Somewhere along the way I learned that writing things down makes them real. It also holds one accountable to making things “real.”
With that in mind, I’m sitting here on the floor of my living room, lost in thought. I’ve been thinking for a couple days now about different things. Buying a home, selling some of my crochet and knitting, getting another dog.
I just don’t know where to go from there. I need to save money for at least closing costs. Frankly, I need to be able to show that I have some money.
I need to knit and crochet faster and more intricate things. And quit feeling like I want the things I’m making for myself.
And I need to do the first thing (buying a house) before I can get another dog.
So..here it is. The 3 things I want to do.
But, also…I need to write more. So, maybe doing that will help me not spend money, and find things that will help me make a little money off of my handiwork. And maybe it’ll help me decide about a dog. We’ll see.
More importantly, it’s been a good month since I’ve gotten enough sleep to get me through the day. Of course, if I weren’t doing 3 jobs in one 8 hour work day, I wouldn’t have this problem. Maybe.
I’m not feeling it right now. And by “it” I mean centered, productive, happy. Well, maybe happy, but not joyous. Even Easter, my favorite time for renewal and recharging was disappointing this year . I just was too tired to give much of a damn. So, I sat and enjoyed by stayed rather uninvolved.
Two months ago I had a major surgery. Up until that point, this…listlessness I’ve been feeling I could attribute to feeling like crap 26 hours a day. Multiple diagnoses, multiple meds. All to eventually be incredibly relieved after surgery. If ever there was a miracle surgery, having a rib removed was mine.
But today, after a month of insomnia, piled on top of 3 weeks of cramming 3 full time jobs into 8 hours a day, and feeling almost as bad as I did a month before surgery. Definitely can tell that I’ve been hard on my body.
But, I wonder…I know that I’ve dealt with some depression before. I wonder if having all the medical problems going on masked it for a while. Of course, now, I also wonder if coming off all the meds I was on for physical ailments was such a good idea.
Regardless, I have a sleeping disorder. And it’s being beyond disorderly these days. Even with help. What I wouldn’t give for one night’s uninterrupted sleep.
All this to say that I've been busy again. But now that I'm sorting out the easy stuff....it'll be on. ;)
A little before 2, I woke up from a dead sleep. Something had just whined in my ear. You know that half-awake reasoning mode a person goes into. "Well, what could have just whined in my ear? A mosquito? An elephant? Was it just a dream?" Then I switched to the taking inventory of the room mode, with my eyes still closed mind you. "Hmm..all my limbs seem to still be in the bed, pillow under my head, still have all the blankets. WonderDog next to my knee...no wait...he's not next to me. Hmm..."
I rolled over a little and realized that my nose had just run into something furry. Now, understand, I'm afraid of the dark. I do, in fact, have lights on in my house all night. (Not the main lights in a room, but small nightlights). So, to wake up to a strange noise in my ear and realize something furry is on my pillow with me.....Houston, we have a problem!
Cautiously, I reach up to touch whatever it is on my pillow. Whew! WonderDog! That's a relief, seriously. I open my eyes and we're eyeball to eyeball, and I can tell he's distressed. I start murmuring comforting words and cooing at him when he suddenly cuts his eyes toward the closet. (Yes, I know, I'm anthropomorphizing him. Deal with it.) So, I look over there.
The door's open. This is...well let's just say there will be no sleep until the damn thing is closed. But here's the deal, I closed it before I got in bed. I always do. It's my little ritual--walk the house, check the locks, open and shut the closet door. I never falter in this.
Soooo......why's it open? Let's see, the door's open, the WonderDog has plastered himself to my head, and is under some sort of distress that I'm guessing, at this hour, has nothing to do with the corned beef hash I let him taste after I had my dinner. (Ok..it could be the hash, but he's little and frankly, I'd have been gassed out of the room LOOOOONG before the two o'clock hour if it was the hash.)
By this time, I'm awake and now, rather than turn on a light and close the door, my mind is racing through the possible reasons for it's open state.
My mind flits to the old wives' tale about cats not being allowed in a baby's room because they'll steal the baby's breath. I glance at WonderDog, "Is that why you're on my pillow? To steal my breath?" Whine....I'm guessing that means "no."
I lay there pondering for a few seconds, and my mine wanders over to a faint memory of a set of Stephen King short stories made into short movies. Wish I could remember what they are. Three of them packaged together, one of them is about a cat who protects the human child in her family from a troll who tries to steal her breath.
Do you see where this is heading??
The troll, as I recall from the movie, would show up after the little girl was asleep, bedroom door closed, and the cat (THANK GOD) had snuck in without the parents knowing. There was a creak of the bedroom door and then scampering across the floor, where the troll would climb into bed and start to suck the breath right out of the child. The cat would leaps onto the bed and a terrific fight ensues. Takes a little time for the cat to not only kill the troll, but be lauded as a hero by the family.
For the record, I do not own a cat. But I am terrified of the dark. So much so that I don't sleep on one side of my queen-size bed, I sleep in the middle. My rational mind understands that there is nothing under my bed. But you never know.
So, from 2:15ish (when I make this connection) to 4:00ish, I'm lying in bed watching the closet door. And listening for scamper sounds on the wood floor. And wondering why in the hell the WonderDog has dozed back off, leaving me utterly unprotected. I am not, even for a minute, sleeping.
I finally give in. I need to sleep, but I won't sleep with that door open. I sit up, get a grumble from the WonderDog. Apparently, I am now disturbing his sleep. When did I cease to be the alpha in my own house?
"Little dog, if I should die, think only this of me....I will haunt your ass and then show the trolls where to find you."
As the alarm goes off and I reach for the bedside lamp, the WonderDog wakes up a stretches, big yawns. Then wanders over to give me a good morning kiss. As if nothing in the world has happened. Really? REALLY? Glad someone got to sleep last night.
To see a few more ramblings, visit Carry on Tuesday and Sunday Scribblings.
I want to be part of a church that is prayer-filled -
A church that is resourced and sustained by the Bible,
A church that can offer hope even in a credit crunch,
A church that can live well with difference and diversity.
I want to be part of a church that welcomes the wealthy, those who have power and influence -
A church that knows how to party and celebrate life,
A church that acknowledges death and speaks boldly of resurrection,
A church that doesn’t pretend to have all the answers but encourages all the questions.
I want to be part of a church that throws parties for prostitutes -
A church that welcomes those who seek asylum,
A church that longs and yearns for justice,
A church that listens to those no-one else wants to listen to.
I want to be part of a church that believes in transformation not preservation -
A church where all who are lost can be found,
A church where people can discover friendship,
A church where every person takes responsibility in sharing the good news.
I want to be part of a church whose hope is placed securely and confidently in the transforming love of God -
A church that engages faith in its communities,
A church that makes and nurtures disciples of Jesus.
A church where the story of God’s love is at the centre.
I want to be part of a church that offers outrageous grace, reckless generosity, transforming love and engaging faith.
This is God’s story Transforming Love: Engaging Faith.
My prayer is that by the power of the Spirit of God at work amongst us, it will increasingly be our story.
So, Sally asks, what kind of church do we want to be part of? What does our "dream church" do? How does it behave in the 21st century.
1. I want to worship and fellowship in a church that remembers that this is the most important thing:
But the Pharisees, when they heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, gathered themselves together. One of them, a lawyer, asked him a question, testing him. "Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the law?"Because I see all too frequently that we forget that part about loving our neighbors, being too quick to judge instead.
Jesus said to him, "'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.' This is the first and great commandment. A second likewise is this, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments."
2. I want to be part of a church in which I can say "Jesus is my Savior I choose to follow, but who am I to say that someone who doesn't agree with me is wrong?" without feeling like I've just dropped a bomb.
3. I want to be part of a church that isn't all feel-good and warm fuzzies. That does convict me, that does make me feel called to task when I really have stepped outside the appropriate boundaries--but does it with love and not condemnation.
4. I want to be in a church that recognizes that the most important ministry work I do rarely happens inside the church walls, and that I will choose to minister there (quietly, with minimal mention of my faith) because that's where the people who need ministering to are many times before I choose to make it to a worship service.
Oh, let me continue that thought....I want to be in a church that recognizes that the most important work ANY church or church member does is not inside the 4 walls. It's in the world.
5. I want to be in a church, in a world, that doesn't box God in. How do we forget so easily that He is the God of wonders beyond our galaxy?
Wander over to today's Friday Five at RevGalBlogPals for other musings on the church in the 21st century.