A Digressional

It's been a while...

2012-01-07T20:02:00.001-06:00

Readers, scarce as you are, I am still alive. Just haven't had the time or patience for blogging. We have moved to Kansas and are settling in slowly but happily. I dreadfully miss friends and family from Memphis, the place we have called home for 7 years past, but I think this new chapter will be a good fit for us.

God willing.

Maybe a real attempt at a post later on. Christ is born!

2011-12-07T07:59:00.000-06:00

St. Ambrose feast day. Pray for us, Bishop of Milan!

The Te Daum, attributed to Ambrose:

We praise thee, O God :
    we acknowledge thee to be the Lord.
All the earth doth worship thee :
    the Father everlasting.
To thee all Angels cry aloud :
    the Heavens, and all the Powers therein.
To thee Cherubim and Seraphim :
    continually do cry,
Holy, Holy, Holy :
    Lord God of Sabaoth;
Heaven and earth are full of the Majesty :
    of thy glory.
The glorious company of the Apostles : praise thee.
The goodly fellowship of the Prophets : praise thee.
The noble army of Martyrs : praise thee.
The holy Church throughout all the world :
    doth acknowledge thee;
The Father : of an infinite Majesty;
Thine honourable, true : and only Son;
Also the Holy Ghost : the Comforter.
Thou art the King of Glory : O Christ.
Thou art the everlasting Son : of the Father.
When thou tookest upon thee to deliver man :
    thou didst not abhor the Virgin's womb.
When thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death :
    thou didst open the Kingdom of Heaven to all believers.
Thou sittest at the right hand of God : in the glory of the Father.
We believe that thou shalt come : to be our Judge.
We therefore pray thee, help thy servants :
    whom thou hast redeemed with thy precious blood.
Make them to be numbered with thy Saints : in glory everlasting.

[added later, mainly from Psalm verses:]
O Lord, save thy people :
    and bless thine heritage.
Govern them : and lift them up for ever.
Day by day : we magnify thee;
And we worship thy Name : ever world without end.
Vouchsafe, O Lord : to keep us this day without sin.
O Lord, have mercy upon us : have mercy upon us.
O Lord, let thy mercy lighten upon us :
    as our trust is in thee.
O Lord, in thee have I trusted :
    let me never be confounded.

Theodore's baptism

2011-10-14T22:03:00.000-05:00

Little Theodore was baptized Wednesday. Everything went well, he didn't make a fuss at all, even after he was immersed. I'm very proud of him. He looked handsome and healthy in his gown. Our oldest son was able to serve the same evening and I am also very proud of him- he did things he's never done before to help the priest. Beautiful to see them together in front of the altar.

It is strange seeing your small baby plunged into a tub of water. Three times. I waited for him to cry after our priest pulled him from the font... and I waited, my heart pounding- then my baby boy sort of shuddered and cried out. I immediately thought of his birth, and the same feeling of watchful anticipation waiting for a first cry. An interesting juxtaposition, methinks.

Life is good. I should probably write more about homeschooling here, but I just don't have the time. It's going well this year, I am pleased. I am, as per usual, learning more than I am teaching.

Many years, Theodore!

Orthodox baptismal robe, and Just so

2011-10-04T21:40:00.000-05:00

The baby is doing great. He's a fantastic sleeper, and just a really sweet little guy. His baptism will be next week, and his godparents have gotten him a baptismal robe that I am very excited about. I was hoping any Orthodox (or Catholic, or Anglican) readers of this blog might order their children's robes from this Orthodox lady, Anna. Handmade! She's been very patient and helpful to me and to Theodore's godparents. While I haven't seen his robe yet in person, it looks well made and lovely. Here is the website, and please share it!

My life as late is pretty much safely summed up like this: 'There is a Baby in the Cave. He is new and pink and fat and small, and the Woman is very fond of him.' (from The Cat That Walked By Himself from Just So Stories by R. Kipling)

radical thoughts

2011-09-22T09:25:00.003-05:00

I suppose the thing I am about to write is radical to some (but of the barely ten people I know of read this blog...maybe some will agree). I have recently had to have a check-up most women have 6 weeks after their baby is born. I've been through this before, and they always ask if you need to start birth control for family planning. Usually, they recommend the pill.

I've shared what I've come to know about this before. A few years ago, I had no idea what birth control pills actually did. If you read the insert of any type of hormonal birth control, you'll see three ways listed in which pregnancy is avoided. Usually, the inserts say something along these lines: The pill effects hormones so a woman does not ovulate. A woman cannot get pregnant if she doesn't ovulate because there is no egg to be fertilized. The pill also works by thickening the mucus around the cervix, which makes it difficult for sperm to enter the uterus and reach any eggs that may have been released. The hormones in the pill can also sometimes affect the lining of the uterus, making it difficult for an egg to attach to the wall of the uterus. It's this third part I take issue with, and it's the part I have noticed gets the least amount of press. We don't want to hear this, and take into account what it really means is possible.

If you believe life begins at conception, and profess it, then you might want to look closer. If a fertilized egg is life, because that is conception, then an insufficient uterine lining disallowing a fertilized egg to attach to the uterus and thrive does what?

Pro-life and pro-the pill? Not possible. Does "sometimes" really matter? Yup.

Churched!

2011-09-18T21:25:00.000-05:00

Today my little Theodore and I were churched. It's rather a satisfying feeling for me. That sounds odd, but I mean I am glad to finally be in a place where I can be churched, where it's normal. I asked to be churched in the Anglican churches we went to, as soon as I read about it and found it in the prayer book. At the less (read, much less) traditional church the "priest", and I say that in quotations because he later asked to be just called by his first name, and not by Father, gave me a confused look when I asked about churching. At the more traditional Anglican church, where the priest taught catechism with a Roman Catholic book, and the congregation liked to pretend Anglo-Catholicism exists, the priest was at least aware of the existence of the practice anciently, but he had never done it and wasn't too interested in it. I am glad, now, to be actually churched, and to watch my son carried through the altar. Theodore smiled big at our gentle priest, and didn't make a peep. As soon as his churching was over, several women converged upon us to hold him. I watched my littlest boy gazing up at Christ Pantocrater on the ceiling in wonder from a good friend's arms. It was sweet to see.

This weekend...

2011-09-02T21:25:00.000-05:00

...shall be wine weekend.

You know you laughed. Sorry for the vulgarization.

liquid bread

2011-08-27T14:12:00.000-05:00

I'm not pregnant anymore. It's a little bittersweet, as I have quite healthy and easy pregnancies. You do miss having a little one wiggling in your tummy, it is quite an experience. And the fact that they were very safe and warm in there and now they're out in the world exposed to all sorts of things is a tad unsettling...but my son is healthy and happy. Oh, and he's really, really adorable.

Anyway, I can drink a little again, without worrying what trimester it is or only being able to have one drink, or not having any drinks because I am worried about stalling labor. Beer is actually very helpful for nursing mothers. Like I needed an excuse.

So my love affair with Samuel Smith's oatmeal stout is back on. And it's beautiful. I also saw a Sam's Nut Brown Ale at Kroger that I need to try soon. I've also enjoyed some great New Glarus coffee stout, a lovely pinot grigio, a Guiness Stout, and Yuengling, among others. I don't know how some people don't have at least the occasional drink. I know some that don't because they were exposed to alcoholism and are trying to avoid it, or something like that. My father was a big alcoholic for many years (quite frankly he drank cheap, cheap beer which is a travesty), and so are many of my aunts, uncles, and my grandfather on my dad's side. My sister and I have had a few times when we drank too much when we were a little younger, but I also considered myself a "straight-edger" (with much less punk music than is mandatory) for a few years. She doesn't drink anything but girly wine anymore, and I hassle her about this as is necessary. Drinking good stuff moderately-and even occasionally a little irresponsibly-is an experience I consider a finer part of my life.

...come on, it's just beautiful.

This beer is very dark, slightly-sweet with a pleasant fizziness. It's called oatmeal stout because -- yes, you guessed it -- it's brewed with a little oatmeal, in addition to dark-roasted barley. You could almost have it with breakfast. I promise I haven't considered it...

A new love.

2011-08-06T10:47:00.001-05:00

My newest son is here. He arrived on August 4th, at 10:09 am. His birth was perfect, short, easy, and he came into the world peaceful and alert. He's thriving already, and is sleeping well. I feel he will be the easiest baby of any of our children. His name is Theodore Owen Eugene. I'm so very happy.

It was funny this labor, asking for the intercessions of St. Anne, St. Theodore, St. John Maximovitch (my priest anointed me before the birth with related oil), my own patron St. James, and of course, the Theotokos and Christ God, the strength was not my own.

With prayers to say to Christ who rose from the dead and bestows life, saints who lived like me to ask for their intercession, with an image in my head of the Theotokos enthroned, looking on proudly with her newly born son...the whole experience was fuller. I don't really know exactly how.

I also cursed less. Which is probably good for my soul.

Many years to Theodore!

no subject, rambling post

2011-07-21T16:47:00.000-05:00

This isn't going to be that relevant of a post. Sometimes, when you're 40 weeks pregnant, you sit down and type stuff.

The Santa Barbara PD is great. Lateral entries are paid over 70k, top out at over 80k, and they have gratuitous benefits and even a $1000 and up uniform allowance.

I looked them up on a whim, as my husband and I have looked at police departments in pretty much every state seeking a place where he could still do work he loves but actually be able to support our family and have hope of some sort of future.

When I was 17, I traveled from Las Vegas, Nevada, to Santa Barbara with my sister. My sister was stationed at the Air Force Base in Vegas, and I was staying with her. I'd come from a very small, very country Mennonite and Amish community in Northern Indiana. Within six months, I'd been all over Vegas and to L.A. as well. What a shock! I pretty much didn't understand much of what I saw, but was rather impressed with the architectural aspects of a big city and not to mention the great beauty of the ocean. The people were frightening, but I didn't know quite why I felt that way. Going from Amish who keep to themselves and don't regularly meet your gaze to hard city dwellers who talk to you at the gas pump and have too many fru-fru coffee and emotionally driven poetry joints was odd.

From people my age, I was suddenly hearing terms like "emo", "anime", "goth", and "cutting", for starters. These things were cool, everyone did it there, apparently. The farthest I actually got into the youth subculture of Las Vegas was dying my hair so I looked like a My Little Pony and buying a few outfits at Hot Topic. I spent a few evenings riding the (excellent!) public transportation to one of the coffee/tea/poetry places and thought I'd heard better poetry in my small town 2nd grade auditorium.

On a trip to L.A. my sister and I had driven out to a restaurant that was a ten minute walk out onto a pier, so you were eating breakfast sort of in the ocean, with a trendy old guy playing acoustic guitar, seagulls overhead and surfers to the sides, aqua sky and aqua water everywhere: the whole gamut. I remember leaning against the pier wall thinking, "I've made it." My mom had lived in small town Indiana her whole life, barely finished high school, and only seen the ocean once in her life. It took me a while to see that it was no big deal to everyone else, but that blue world out there that looked so free and easy, backed up by golden sand and cute shops selling shell necklaces for $50 bucks.

I was pretty bent on being a photographer so I spent most of my time, outside of endless hours waiting tables to save for a car, sitting in a Barnes and Noble sipping coffee drinks I'd never had (no Starbucks in Topeka, Indiana) and reading photography books and magazines. In one of those magazines, I saw an article on a photography school in Santa Barbara. I read more about it and then called. Within weeks I was going to an orientation.

We drove from Vegas to Santa Barbara. It was great fun, being sisters, young and silly, with loud music on desert highways. We got pulled over multiple times for speeding. When we arrived, I knew Santa Barbara wasn't like L.A. It certainly wasn't like Vegas. The homes were all huge, beautiful, and well kept. The people were athletic, tanned, and as well kept as their houses. There was a Starbucks on every corner and we stopped in at some of the boutique shops, only to slowly and inconspicuously retreat after seeing the price tags. The photography school was on the ocean, and I sat through orientation with a bunch of rich high school kids...I was the only one in the group who expressed concern in a question answer session over the price of tuition. The extravagant price of tuition, I was assured, could be covered by loans. I knew immediately I couldn't get enough loans or aid...We toured the school with the group and it was very impressive. Afterwards we were offered refreshments on the balcony behind the school that overlooked the ocean. Goodness, it was picturesque. I leaned over the railing, nibbling on a fancy cucumber sandwich, and thought about what life was like for the people that lived in the neighborhood of the photography school, what life would be like for their kids that got into the photography school, as well. What does it feel like to spend your life without any financial struggle, doing whatever makes you feel good, having what you needed readily provided, without worrying how much it would cost you or how much your feet would hurt after hours of working, just earning enough to pay for a small room and your food?

After that trip to beautiful Santa Barbara, I was tired of the West coast. I spent some times camping in Utah trying to figure out what to do next. Go home to Indiana? Since I had discovered that my only option for college would probably be the community college of Las Vegas, I wasn't thrilled with the prospect of staying there. Besides, other than the flashy downtown strip, Vegas is not really an ideal place to live. There's really nothing to write home about, so to speak. I couldn't imagine living there for more than a year of my life and that year mark was looming.

Thinking back to Santa Barbara now, as an adult with a growing family, I wouldn't want to live there. I've earned a few eccentrically driven ideas that make me think about earthquakes and California falling into the ocean, not to mention radiation and the proximity to nuclear facilities. But those aren't the first thing I think of when I consider if I'd like to raise my kids there. I want to raise them in a cabin in the woods or the field somewhere. They should see the ocean, but not live by it's tides. I don't want manicured lawns and perfectly tiled roofs to block their view of the world. I don't want them to never know what it means to work hard with their hands. I don't know if I can show them that, but I hope I can.

I can make them mow the lawn, at least.

If only the mid-south paid cops 70k.

That would be nifty...

weirdos and a tribute of sorts

2011-07-09T12:23:00.002-05:00

"The thing I like most about the bible is all the weirdos in it. Here's a song about one of those wierdos." -Rich Mullins

Elijah

The Jordan is waiting for me to cross through
My heart is aging I can tell
So Lord, I'm begging
For one last favor from You
Here's my heart take it where You will

This life has shown me how we're mended
And how we're torn
How it's okay to be lonely as long as you're free
Sometimes my ground was stoney
And sometimes covered up with thorns
And only You could make it what it had to be
And now that it's done
Well, if they dressed me like a pauper
Or if they dined me like a prince
If they lay me with my fathers
Or if my ashes scatter on the wind
I don't care

CHORUS:
But when I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
Well, It'll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won't break my heart to say goodbye

There's people been friendly
But they'd never be your friends
Sometimes this has bent me to the ground
Now that this is all ending
I want to hear some music once again
'Cause it's the finest thing I have ever found

But the Jordan is waiting
Though I ain't never seen the other side
They say you can't take in
The things you have here
So on the road to salvation
I stick out my thumb and He gives me a ride
And His music is already falling on my ears

There's people been talking
They say they're worried about my soul
Well, I'm here to tell you I'll keep rocking
'Til I'm sure it's my time to roll
And when I do

CHORUS(2x)

My husband's department lost a very good man, father, officer, and husband this past week. It was senseless, useless death, over domestic issues. But everything I have heard of Timothy Warren's life and all the love I have seen for this man speak of that person you'd think was probably one of the ones ready to see the Jordan. My heart aches for his family and children, and I am trying not to think too much about how easily it could have been our family in mourning. Lord, have mercy and deliver us from ever facing that. I pray another MPD officer will never be killed in the line of duty again, and we'll never see the news coverage of the Sea of Blue, or hear the bagpipes playing a funeral dirge. Rest in peace, Officer Timothy Warren. I hope there was a whirlwind and a chariot of fire.

Crooked? Or just plain stupid? *edited

2011-07-01T13:05:00.002-05:00

The City of Memphis sent a letter to the city employees on June 30th, 2011. In this letter it was stated that the $10,000 death benefit given to a designated beneficiary if an employee dies will remain. They said the projected cost is $130,000 in fiscal year 2012. That would mean that 13 employees would have to die for the $130,000 to be required (simple math, 130,000 divided by 10,000).

Remember that the $10,000 is intended to offset funeral costs. So for the family surviving the employee, that $10,000 is helpful, but already spent on funeral arrangements.

Seemingly recognizing that a funeral is expensive and additonal help would be needed by the family, an additional $5,000 traditionally has been given to the beneficiary as short-term income. The City stated in their letter that this benefit is being cut, as it would cost the city $500,000 in fiscal year 2012. Let's look at this: If the projected employee deaths are only 13, and each of those 13 beneficiaries of the deceased were given 5,000, that equals how much? $65,000. So, um, where is the 500,000 coming from? Apparently, somebody can't work with numbers. Ladies and gentlemen, it's not hard to see that either A) there has been a gross miscalculation on the part of the City of Memphis, or B) somebody is lying to the city employees, and lining their pockets with "projected funds".

Now, let me ask you this: out of those 13 projected deaths of City of Memphis employees, which professions are more likely to see losses? Office workers? Nope. It's the police officers and firefighters. Not only is this death benefit being cut, but a 4.6% pay cut is looming as of July 1st. So, for my husband, he can rest easy knowing paying his bills monthly is going to get harder, and if he dies his wife and children will not receive help from the city and department he works for. That's a real daily motivator. I know my husband is a good man, and loves his work and is honest. But is every officer on the department going to continue in honesty when they can't pay the bills at home? When their honor is at stake, and their memory is freshly imbued in their personal financial crisis, what choices will they make? When you are in need, and that squad car comes roaring up, who is going to come into your home and help you? I can bet you aren't looking forward to a stressed, overworked, underpaid police officer who just doesn't give a damn anymore.

Thanks, again, City of Memphis. You obviously don't want to show appreciation to your first responders. When your city is further overrun by miscreants, and crime rates again skyrocket, please refer back to this post if you're confused about how that happened.

EDIT: It has been brought to my attention that the $500,000 could be including death benefit to retirees. However, I then wonder why the 10,000 benefit does not include them...and also the city's letter did not mention retirees at all.

what I don't see

2011-06-27T22:12:00.002-05:00

We pray for our sins to be forgiven: what has been done, what has not been done, what has been seen, what has not been seen. Today I saw something I tend not to see. It's easy to forget what we don't see- we forget that it exists and is very prevalent. The statistics in Memphis alone are devastating.

My OB's office is in Germantown, which is a nicer extension of Memphis. The general patient in the waiting room with me is black (my doctor is black, too), and well-dressed, seemingly educated. Today, one such mother came in while I was waiting. She had a girl with her, and the appointment was for the girl. I thought something for a second like, oh, bet she's here for a Gardasil shot, or do girls get PAP smears that young? Then when I was called back, the girl was, too. I was in a "cubicle" type pre-exam room getting weighed and having my blood pressure checked. So I overhead the nurse asking the girl some questions. I couldn't help listening after I head the nurse say, "Have you had the pregnancy confirmed anywhere else?"

The girl's reply is what really struck me: "Have I what?" She didn't understand the question. The nurse rephrased it, and the girl still didn't understand, replying simply, "That stick said I pregnant." I'm probably not doing her justice, but that is the exact grammar she used. When asked the date of her last menstrual period (to determine possible age of the baby) the girl was again flustered, not understanding what was being asked. The nurse worked with her and it became clear that the young lady didn't understand that menstruation cycles relate to fertility. If she didn't understand that...no wonder she was pregnant.

I also felt shock when the girl mentioned she had just turned 14. I'm just hitting my middle 20s, and having my 3rd baby. People react with shock that I am about to have three kids, not to mention my step-children who are for all practical purposes and heart reasons my kids as well. This girl is a child, and pregnant. She is pregnant, and doesn't really know why. She surely knows how, or her boyfriend knew the "how".

Dear reader, please pray for this child having a child. She's been on my mind all day. One of my Catholic friends likes to quote Mother Teresa, who said that "Any country that accepts abortion is not teaching its people to love, but to use any violence to get what it wants." "It is a poverty to decide that a child must die so that you may live as you wish." Pray for the millions of other girls having babies (or worse, not having them). And for those of us who are pregnant and have children, and are completely conscious of that beginning life...remember the poverty, not of wealth, but of ignorance. Rejoice, parents who are trying to raise children who know God, that you are able to know your children, and how they were created, and to Whom they belong. Not every child that is born lifeless is aborted. Many of them are alive and grown, in the exam room next to you, and the child in their womb is already facing a looming darkness.

A poem I recently read to my littles.

2011-06-15T18:36:00.002-05:00

Night comes

Night comes

leaking

out of the sky.

Stars come

peeking.

Moon comes

sneaking,

silvery-sly.

Who is shaking,

shivery quaking?

Who is afraid

of the night? Not I.

Beatrice Schenk de Regniers

We're back!

2011-05-26T15:44:00.002-05:00

Us homeschoolers, that is. Let the fun and games begin...

boating and other stuff, like pregnancy

2011-05-23T05:32:00.000-05:00

I've heard this notion that becoming Catholic after being Protestant, you swim the Tiber. I find anyone who thinks it's a rigorous swim to be a dolt. If they say "wade the Tiber", I'm all for it. If you've been a member of the Orthodox church, and decide to be Catholic, you might want to cut the swim and the wade from your hyperbole. Then it's more like floating on an overly prepared and comfortable raft. Let us not look a gift horse in the mouth, or something like that. To be fair, you're also a dolt if you are Orthodox and think your piety is !AWESOME! and are depending on public motions and the right phrases it to get you through.

It's the things in life that you don't know that sting and nag constantly, and drag at your will. You know those anchors. The things you work to know, and work to follow, mostly feel complacent much faster than you're comfortable with. Initial zeal is particularly dangerous, and full of the kind of emotion that sinks ships which otherwise, not burdened with the weight, could have weathered the storm. I've done zeal, too many times, and looked to have it in too many places. I haven't found exhaustion within Orthodoxy. There is a fullness that is emotional, physical, spiritual, and that isn't rigid and inflexible. Though, goodness, there are plenty of cons in Orthodoxy. They're endless and perfection in worship and prayer in any church filled with other people who aren't yourself-exactly cloned and unchanging-is going to be rough and ugly. I'd probably find my cloned and perfect selves annoying after a while, anyway. Pretending the congregation of persons you worship alongside are going to be the kind you really prefer and don't struggle to identify with is a sad joke. I've tried many places and many denominations looking for something unbroken. I won't say that in Orthodoxy I've found some gleaming palace of perfection. That would be a lie and a gross mistake if I thought so, especially after where we've been in the world of religion. I think the church is my mother but I haven't really had good luck in mothers. Good thing Doubting Thomas wasn't voted off. There is hope.

I do know playing The Angel Cried for my daughters as they fall asleep is good. The one time my littlest daughter will release her favorite thumb from her mouth and passively cross her tiny arms over her chest is to receive the bread of life, and that is good. The way the similarly roving morning sun moves over the halos of the icons and draws your wandering eye is good. The new baby held up in the sign of the cross and marched to the altar is good. Praying ceaselessly for the dead is good. Doing things that make your pathetic soul uncomfortable is good. Whatever is good and profitable for your soul...

I have all these little fragments. A few of them gleam. A few of them are rusted. I'm going to keep trucking along until I don't look for the gleam and I don't notice the rust.

Enough with the boating metaphors, already. However, the best way to boat is in a well tested and worn canoe on a small, placid lake (even better if it has navigable tributaries for when you get bored) that is shallow, well-known, and full of easily caught bluegills. Too bad we all pine for the colossal yacht in the middle of the rolling Pacific with the whale beneath waiting to swallow us.

It's 5:28 am and I have been up for hours trying to sleep. Haven't slept in days. The end of pregnancy is rough.

Then comes the infant stage again. It helps that my babies are the cutest things on the planet, but jeez oh pete at this point I could use about 5 years of make-up rest.

I think then that we're doing ok.

2011-05-18T12:03:00.005-05:00

Value of Afflictions

From Homily 36 of St. Isaac the Syrian
"This is the will of the Holy Spirit, to be His beloved in continual reality. The Spirit of God does not dwell in those who live in rest because the Most-Good God wished that His beloved servants should not have rest in this life, but rather live in suffering, difficulties, worries, poverty, and nakedness, in solitude and debts, in sicknesses and defamations, in battles and crushing of heart, with sickly body and image detested by others, in a state which does not compare to other people's, and a lonely, peaceful, and quiet dwelling, completely invisible to men and free of anything that produces earthly consolation. Therefore, these people weep, and the world laughs; these sigh, but the world enjoys; these fast, but the world amuses itself. During the day, they wear themselves out; and, during the night, they prepare for deprivation. There are some who offer themselves to weariness voluntarily and also submit to afflictions; some are persecuted, while others were killed, and some hid in cellars. In them was fulfilled the word that says, "You will have afflictions, but in Me you will have joy," because the Lord knows that the ones who live in rest cannot remain in His love. Therefore, Christ the Saviour has prevented these from rest and satisfaction. He Whose love is more powerful than death of the body wanted to show also in us the power of His love. Amen."

Oh good grief.

2011-05-11T15:43:00.000-05:00

A distant friend of mine, who is my age, recently posted this link on her facebook, and heartily agreed with it's contents:http://shine.yahoo.com/channel/parenting/i-gave-birth-of-course-i-want-a-gift-in-defense-of-the-push-present-2482207. Wondering what in the world a push present was (I like traditions), I clicked and began reading. From the first sentence, I was annoyed. What a strange and ugly thought...I deserve more than just a baby after all that. It's not an idea I've ever had, through two births and on my way to a third. I hope that if my husband ever heard me demand a gift for having his baby, he would give me a good slap. Ugh, what a way to start out motherhood- selfish and demanding.

This article is along the same lines much of what I see from women regarding childbirth, pregnancy, and sex. It's all looked at as a chore, a pain in the backside, a real degrading experience, embarrassing, you name it. I have complaints during pregnancy, don't get me wrong- I'm no saint. But I've never felt anything like, "It's my body, and this baby is ruining it!" or any other similar thing. I am also lucky, I have a good husband and family who are excited to meet the new baby. I don't have to work, I don't have to worry much at all. I do have 4 other children, but we have fairly established routines, they're mostly good, well-behaved kids, and life isn't that rough.

I know I speak from a bit of a polished place, and I am very thankful for my home-mommy life, yet I don't know what it will take for the majority of women who have not so bad situations themselves to love their babies and the miracle that is the power of their bodies in pregnancy and childbirth. Why aren't we women taught to revere the short time of our pregnancy? It is a hard job but an experience that can't be matched. With healthy habits, and proper care (which should be mostly hands off!), pregnancy can be enjoyable and sweet. I think we have too many ultrasounds, too many tests, too many stresses from inexperienced doctors who want to schedule the birth of a child around their work schedule.

I hate, hate, hate that childbirth is proposed as this terrible, scary, stressful, ugly time that everyone wants to get past quickly with no discomfort whatsoever. There is little reverence for the ability of the female body to peacefully bring forth a child without induction, C-section, drugs, or any other "helps". Many women have no idea there are many exercises to tone the body for childbirth. The hospital environment is many times stressful on new moms, and that is why I advocate midwives in the home. I don't go to a midwife, never have and probably never will, but after experiencing a hospital birth with my first child, and being filled with fear from it, I don't want that for any new mom. There's a clinical feeling to hospital birth, and a "you don't know what to do so just take some drugs and get it over with" air about the whole thing. There is little space for natural, peaceful childbirth. I have been lucky that my OB is a saint of a woman, and one hell of a fighter. She makes sure I get what I want, like a walking monitor, the ability to move around, no suggestions of epidurals, etc. With my daughter's birth, which from hospital entrance to her entrance into the world lasted two hours, I was asked if I was Asian. It became apparent that this was because Asian women are calm and quiet in childbirth. Perhaps they are taught to trust their bodies, I don't know. When I was at 8 cm and smiling and talking, experiencing little pain, the staff was in disbelief. There must have been 7 staff members in the room to see a natural childbirth.

The article above says that most women don't ever push in childbirth, anyway. They're unable to reach that point, uneducated about how it works, and terrified of having to feel discomfort. I find this very, very sad. Giving birth is one of the things I've done that I know is one of the only things I've done unselfishly and with great thankfulness to God. It is immensely filling, empowering, whatever the self help books are all looking for- understanding how your body is able to grow a baby, and how each day prepares that baby to enter the world, then bringing that new life into the world...what other gift could compare?

How ugly, also, is this quotation:

"Honestly, I think that much too little respect and appreciation is placed on mothers, not only by partners but also by children and others around her. Why not take a couple minutes of your time to brainstorm a thoughtful gift to show your partner or wife how much you truly appreciate the miracle she has worked so hard to give you?

Seeing a third surgical delivery in the next 10 days of my life and knowing this is our last child and that all my husband has done to bring them into the world is sex … yeah! That warrants a gift!"

I guess real women should be disgusted with their bodies, their babies, and their husbands. Good grief. What a crazy world we're living in.

whether you like it or not

2011-05-06T21:10:00.000-05:00

Perhaps the must valuable result of all education is the ability to make yourself do the thing you have to do, when it ought to be done, whether you like it or not; it is the first lesson that ought to be learned; and however early a man’s training begins, it is probably the last lesson that he learns thoroughly.

~Thomas H. Huxley, 1825-1895

(because once or twice that Darwin's bulldog agnostic said things that made sense)

Orthodox

2011-04-29T21:25:00.001-05:00

Well, I'm Orthodox. Officially! Our chrismation was Holy Saturday. I could ramble on and on but here's the short of it: It was a beautiful day, we were early (wow, with all 4 kids dressed nicely, too!), I managed to buy some comfortable shoes which helped the pregnant lady make it through, the kids (and the husband) were impeccably behaved and I am so very proud of them, and it was completely different than Anglican confirmation with a bishop who I didn't think had apostolic succession. Praise God!

Watching our priest repeatedly pray, kneel, then rise, kneel, then rise to anoint all six of us plus two other catechumens who were coming in the Church made me love him more. I didn't think I could appreciate him more after all the trips he made to our house for catechism, and all the time he spent at our kitchen table with us. I'll miss seeing him there on Wednesdays, sipping coffee and cracking jokes. He's a great, gentle, loving priest and I hope he lives forever.

Pascha was beautiful, even though I was half asleep and sure everyone could hear my stomach growl. The deep slumber of the days after Bright Monday, when things finally slowed down for us, has been nice. All the meat and cheese and feasting of Bright Week celebrations has been great.

He is Risen! Now I look forward to learning more, growing more, and seeing my baby son baptized and chrismated all at once. I can't wait to meet the little guy! He has a personality already, and responds to noises, voices, temperature, and has a distinct sleeping pattern. I love him! I can't wait for this summer, minus the heat+pregnancy.

I'm trying to finish a semester of college and decide whether I will take a term break when the babe is born or not. Probably not, I'll just take fewer classes. We're also getting ready to order homeschool materials to go back to what we love in the fall. Pray for me and for my family in the coming flurry of responsibility!

Pascha preparations, kitchen-wise

2011-04-21T13:27:00.000-05:00

Today the Pascha cookery began. First, Elijah and I made a lot of hard boiled eggs. Then, using the egg wraps my godmother gave us, we slipped each egg in a wrap, and dipped it in boiling water for a few seconds. What a great and easy way to make these beauties!

I've also had fun trying a new recipe for Scotch eggs.

This was labor intensive. Once I found a rhythm with the wrapping in sausage, frying, and baking it was easier. I had a few of these last year at the feast and with typical pregnant woman obsession I locked into the idea of making them.

I looked over a few recipes before I started. Hard boiling the eggs only until a few minutes after the water boils seems to keep the eggs from being overcooked. This one has the most important tips and tricks, like the chilling between steps which makes everything easier. I fried the breaded eggs, though, for a few minutes in vegetable oil, and then cooked them in the oven for 10 minutes to make sure the sausage inside was fully cooked.

The result? Delectable. These are delicious, and while they take a while to make (it took me 2 hours to cook 20, which since they are halved before servings equals 40) , I think it's worth it a few times a year. Especially with a little mustard...

parents

2011-04-18T21:06:00.001-05:00

Anyone who has read the lives of the saints may have noticed this common factor: "He/She was the son/daughter of pious parents." Or, sometimes, a pious grandparent or godparent is named and their role in the life of the saint duly noted.

My prayers during my current pregnancy have revolved around this idea of parenthood a lot. I am far from someone that anyone in their right mind would describe as pious. My husband is a great father but even he would own that he is not a great, world altering Christian. I know some parents who have grown children, and I would say those parents are pious. Their children love the Church and God and it is evident that their upbringing had something to do with this.

Pray, reader, that somehow I can at least be a little, teensy, weensy bit pious and manage to have a good influence on my growing number of children. May their godparents, patron saints, guardian angels, the Theotokos, and foremost Christ be their guides and intercede for them. I know my own prayers alone are not enough to raise a gerbil, let alone a house full of babies.

My two-year-old daughter who lights up my life asks me often, "Will you help me walk, Mommy?" just because she wants me to hold her hand and go beside her, not because she needs help walking at her age. When her tiny fingers are grasping mine, I feel inadequate and know I need something more than I have if I'm going to really walk through life with her, and be an important part of who she becomes.

a storm

2011-04-15T13:42:00.000-05:00

Storms kept us up last night, well, the dog, the baby girl, and I. Ella insisted on sleeping on me, to make sure the thunder didn't get her. Sometimes I am terrified by my children's faith in my protecting them. I want to tell them I can't help and we're not safe, Mommy would be next to useless without a gun or something if it came down to it. When I have nothing else to say, and know the truth is cruel and sad, I try to say that God and his angels will protect us and we shouldn't worry. I usually believe it.

It's even harder to believe that the heavenlies will intervene with our finances. Money seems a trivial thing, in the face of a God who raised Lazarus after 4 days, but I met a man today who told me he's been unemployed for 3 years. That isn't trivial. He had to have been over 50. His job was the sort that didn't lead into another career easily. He was expressing joy that he finally has a part-time job with the company that laid him off. He said he'll have to be careful because the job didn't come with benefits. When he worked in the same capacity 3 years ago, benefits were a part of the position. He shook his head, "They take everything from you and then look for what else they can cut away. But it's a job, I have a job. After three years unemployed you just take it."

A while later I ran into a homeless man who comes to our church regularly for a bag of groceries. I help organize the food pantry and until recently haven't witnessed food being given out, it's often when I am not there. I've heard this man say several times that he's just had a hard week, as if every week hasn't been hard, and hard is surely an insufficient word. I was trying to get my son to open the door for me, as my hands were full of baby, bags, and purse. There I was, headed to buy Chinese food for lunch. Not because I couldn't eat something at home, but because I was sure after being up with the storm I just was too tired to cook. This man hastily put down his groceries and jogged over to open the door for me. He's always polite, and those aren't the manners of someone who never met society. How did he end up where he is? Thank God he can come to the church and quietly take a few things he needs. I look at him, and judge him, even fear him, while he looks at me only to see if I need a hand. I drive a nice minivan home to my loving husband and my beautiful children and my home while he rides his bicycle only God knows where and pops open a can of Campbell's. Where is his family?

To so many, the unemployed man is nobody. The polite man is nobody because he is homeless. But I have a strong feeling these men are definitely more Christ-like than me, more Christ-like than most of us.

My dear boy.

2011-04-13T09:39:00.000-05:00

My middler son (yes, after the baby born he will be in the middle of our boys by age) turned 4 at the end of March. We just had his party last night. Other than a dud piñata that Daddy had to manhandle to get the candy to fall out and some birthday party blues from Eli, it was great fun. I love that Elijah has so many young friends who are such darlings.

Here he is with his newest round of wooden weapons from Burnt Mountain Crafts (www.rentoys.com). We have been ordering knight gear from them for a couple of years now and have been pleased not only with the quality but the durability of these handmade toys. I am very pleased when my children play imaginatively, and these newest toys have set off a whole new round of medieval scenarios. Modeled after ancient weapons, these are fantastic and fun. They have a new line of durable helmets, and Elijah just got the "Great Helm", the warrior shield, and a one-handed battle axe.

love songs

2011-03-22T21:12:00.002-05:00

So there is this Jars of Clay song I found out about recently. It's about love, and called Closer. Yeah, that's right, like the dirty Nine Inch Nails song. This is the sort of song that non-denominational church goers are swaying and crying to. This is the way I was introduced to "Christian worship", by witnessing the rock band playing love songs to God while the followers of Jesus drink it in, moving sensually and rhythmically. At the time, I was extremely uncomfortable...but I wondered if this was really Christianity, and I was looking to know God. Thankfully, I was exposed to much more of the religious spectrum than non-denominational type fellowship. My discomfort with the idea of lovey-dovey praise music hasn't changed. Don't get me wrong, I love God. But it is a reverential love, not the love I have for my husband. Though for me, loving God doesn't mean experiencing God, and "my Jesus" doesn't exist. Jesus Christ the Son of God exists, he is, was, and is to come.

The lyrics to the song say things like in the following selections:

'Cause the rockets we're in get so cold and I miss your skin

If you need more love, well you've gotta get close to me

If you want my love, well you've gotta get closer to me

No unreachable itch, if you hemorrhage I'll stitch

I don't understand why we can't get close enough
I want your kite strings tangled in my trees, all wrapped up

I don't understand why we can't get close enough
I'll be the comets that are falling from the sky you light up

And there is more of the same throughout the song. It ends with "I don't understand why we can't get close enough, I miss the shivers in my spine every time that we touch". This is serious stuff, folks, that is what people are gathered together moaning to God. I don't know how anyone reads the Psalms and then thinks the songs we might compose to God in worship should sound anything like "Closer" by Jars of Clay. Have we learned nothing from the VERY IMPORTANT Bible that we tote around in trendy covers?? I guess when there is no place of reverence in the church, there is no reverence to be placed.

A commenter on the lyrics engine I found wrote: I think that since God is Love; this is a VERY DEEP song. If we want, need LOVE, we are simply needing to get more God in our lives, and we experience that LOVE through other people that also NEED His LOVE. I cry through this entire song and I can't even get past the message of it, yet! God is LOVE! We are His hands and feet and His voice, when a lost heart needs Him. We receive LOVE by giving LOVE. Love is NOT self-centered, however.

So, uh, we give love by giving physical pleasure to other people, huh? Get more God. A lost heart just needs to get closer and closer. The good concepts here, that we need God, God should be the center of our lives, etc, is so twisted up with the physical and emotional that nothing spiritual can remain.

Lord, have mercy! I just won't ever understand this kind of undeniably lustful, tearful worship.

I thank God for the stillness in my church, for the quiet and fearful presence of the cherubim and the seraphim, for the softly flickering candles, the softly written colors of the icons, the quick press of lips against the hand or feet of Christ, the feel of the floor against your head during the prayer of Saint Ephraim. There's more than I can list here, plenty of physical things that are reverential.

Pray before you start and driving, and THEN play your rock n' roll and bang your head. I love loud, raucous music on the radio, too, but please in church act like something created by a God who isn't your dream girlfriend.

disclaimer: I know it's Lent and I am probably a little closer to the hell reserved for the judgmental for this post.

2011-03-18T22:31:00.002-05:00

I've been taking many moments to read up on Saint Theodore the General lately. His feast day was just before we found out we are having a boy.

2011-03-10T03:40:00.000-06:00

I spent a couple of hours at the pediatrician renewing asthma prescriptions for my seven year old. Her asthma is back lately, after a few years reprieve, and it's back in full force.

I sat in the waiting room listening to her wheeze. She was reading a biography on the life of Walt Whitman to me, and reading his poems which were interspersed through the book. She is a fantastic reader. I've not heard her read for so long in the last six months- when we were homeschooling I heard her much more. Her inflection is soothing to listen to, as she reads more like an adult, pausing mostly in the correct places and reading at a speed that is refreshing. She also has the funniest facial expressions, especially the way she screws up her face when puzzled.

She has always been the hardest kid of them all. We crack heads like there's no tomorrow. I pray a lot that I could learn every day ways to be a better mom to her. She's very smart and sometimes that gets her in trouble. She's also had a hard life. She is my step daughter, and her infancy was not pleasant with a mom that left her and then she lived in a tent for quite some time while she fought RSV.

I'm always driven nearly to tears at how God answers our prayers. Sometimes, it's just in being able to hear a child reading Walt Whitman at length in a colorful waiting room that can change your heart and give you that added strength you've been asking for.

R.I.P.

2011-03-04T07:17:00.000-06:00

Our dog died yesterday, in a stupidly tragic way. He was scared by our yard man blowing leaves and, being the renowned jumper he was, scooted over our fence like a gazelle and took off. We looked for him, drove around calling his name, called the shelter. Nothing.

A neighbor came to say she had him in her backyard, and it looks like he jumped her fence, which from the outside was 4 feet high because it backs up to a hill, but jumping down into her yard was a 9 foot drop. Sydney landed on a bunch of clay pots, splintered them all, and died right there.

He was a good dog. We've only had him a year and a half but he was very patient with the kids and calm. They miss him and I can't live without a dog. I have serious doubts we'll find another dog as laid back.

a simple exhortation

2011-02-27T19:03:00.000-06:00

My parish priest, Father John Mashburn, said something today that I think is worth repeating.

It was simple, his sermon, and eloquent as usual. Father said, "If you do a good work, forget about it, and move on to another good work."

Like I said, simply spoken but really a grand challenge. Especially if you're like me: I tend to be the type who remembers I'm a good Christian by the two dollars I gave to a homeless man two years back. Forget it, and move on...

2011-02-26T14:01:00.003-06:00

I miss the things that are cold and rough.

Remember?

Pale ice on the sidewalks teaching you slow, steady,

snow down as soon as you clear it away-

two paces and the frozen gravel is shrouded again.

You learn to measure each stroke,

careful not to strip

the gravel drive.

not mud

not dripping

nor flat cement stretching

itself over all the earth in every direction, in every thought

slithering with trails of dank slush:

in its place

show me a field of corn stubble.

Show me a cow whose flared nostrils

leave a cloud of ashen smoke.

Or give me deep summer, even black Ohio muck,

I'm not afraid to sink

now.

Great-grandfather Ashley Reed in coveralls

and the hat Gran Olive knitted

starts creeping hitch-trudge, hitch-trudge

to the hen-house in his old, gray skin,

and I've already darted beneath the heavy boughs

of the old willow where he cuts our switches.

Not to hide,

no, Ashley's no old man winter,

his quick eyes move, younger than me,

to seek and wink. Eyes that have lost their color,

now so pale blue; you see

a stretch of snow in the evening,

an encroaching quiet.

"Expecting a storm, child,

come inside." An ancient sandpaper hand

encloses mine-

rough and cold.

When the wheelchair ramp goes in,

I slide down it, but keep waiting

for Grandfather to be standing at the door

telling me how to improve,

but he's inside with a flock of nurses

and I only know the chill,

deadly as she can be.

Now Memphis

is stone cold and statuesque,

dotted with Roman pillars

holding up churches. Holy places

reflecting homeless

vagabonds with apathetic eyes.

I see geese wheeling overhead

and am perplexed. Childhood left me

sure they flew down here, yet they move on.

You can call it solidarity,

but I swear their formation

was superior in an Ohio sky.

Public schooling

2011-02-23T14:00:00.001-06:00

If I was asked what my experience, as a home schooler, going into a public education system is, I would have to reply truthfully: it has been truly a waste of my children's lives and an undue stress on my family.

Yesterday we received a letter from the state informing us that my daughter had too many unexcused absences and that we were in danger of being charged a truancy fee. This blindsided me, as I was unaware of any unexcused absences.

Come to find out, my daughter's teacher had reported a week she had the flu as unexcused, therefore listing my daughter as truant. Also, to put the icing on the cake, she had reported a feast day, that we kept our children out of school to observe, as a truancy. I immediately contacted the school administration, and found them as puzzled as I was. The principal apologized and after listening to my explanation, assured me since I had sent excusal notes and explanations, the fault clearly was not mine, and that the matter would be resolved and I needn't worry. She urged me to write a letter of explanation that she could file, which I did and sent to school with my daughter.

The next morning, the attendance officer at the school called my husband, and asked him if we are, "Orthodox persons." He replied that we are an Orthodox Christian family, yes. She said that the feast day I had explained in the letter was not on the list of approved Greek Orthodox holidays. Since the woman was condescending, and her tone was one of a person who is greatly annoyed, my husband chose not to bother explaining to her that we are Antiochian Orthodox, and in fact the Greek Orthodox church here has a liturgy for even more feast days than our church. She demanded a letter from our priest, on church letterhead, to verify our claims of church attendance, but again reminded him that this most likely be considered an unexcused absence because it was not on the list of approved church holidays. My husband, knowing the school system cannot make a list of "approved religious obligations", told her we'd send in the letter immediately. Then, she said they also required a doctors note for our children's sick absences, to prove those.

I had been told the previous evening by the principal that no notes were necessary unless the children had ten consecutive unexcused absences. This is according to the school system policy, and we had made no violation. So, when the attendance officer approached us with demands of evidence, we were incensed. We have done nothing wrong, and have assented to the system. We have not lied, and our children have not missed school habitually. However, after the threat of truancy charges of $50 dollars a day, we did not want any discrepancies in our children's records. We contacted our priest for a letter, and our doctor for confirmation of our children's sickness and her recommendation they be kept at home and on Tamiflu for a week. It was a hectic morning.

While we were loading up to go retrieve the required "evidence" to deliver to the school office, the principal called me and began another long apology. She pleaded with me not to bother getting notes, as the attendance officer should not have demanded them. She said there must have been a "disconnect in communication." As the attendance officer had directly quoted my letter in which I had laid out every single detail of why our children's unexcused absences were incorrect, there was no basis for this idea of a "disconnect". Someone didn't like the religion they were unfamiliar with, and gave a knee-jerk reaction. That is not my problem, and I assured her that because of the discrepancies in what were being told, we were going to obtain and deliver the letters to make sure WE at least had dotted our I's and crossed our T's. The principal accepted the letters from my hand with more meek apologies.

I have a feeling this is not the last of this. The principal told me I should be contacted by my daughter's teacher, and too look for it. I have not been contacted today thus far. I am already annoyed with my daughter's teacher, who disciplined my daughter in the classroom for her absence when we went to Liturgy. I asked her why she had done this, via email (which she said is her preferred method of contact), and she did not reply, other than to say shortly that "family days" would not be excused. Yesterday, she told my daughter, Bethany, that she could not vacation with us this weekend (taking Thursday and Friday off school) since Bethany was "habitually absent". (remember that habitually absent is defined by the school system as ten, consecutive unexcused absences) The woman went on as she handed Bethany the letter from the state declaring we would have to pay fines, that "your parents are going to have to send you to school or face fines, you are not allowed to be absent." I emailed asking for an explanation of this false statement, and have received no reply to it.

The principal has promised to talk to the teacher. We shall see. What a mess, and a waste of time. The worst part is this should have never happened. If Bethany's teacher had correctly reported her absences, and not flagged the board of education, we wouldn't have gotten at truancy letter. My son had the same absences, at the same school, and his teacher did not respond like this.

What a merry day to remember that I have the right to homeschool, and give my children an excellent, fair education that does not constantly include the erroneous opinions of a woman who has spent 30 years learning to teach to the middle. The school's own tests have proven that my children are exceedingly bright, and they are on the honor roll. I would have some understanding of the teacher if my children were failing, and if I had not been at every parent meeting. I am a member of the PTA, I am room mother. There is no reason for the teacher to act this way, other than ignorance and personal bias against us.

Pray for peace.

2011-02-21T08:52:00.001-06:00

I recently heard a young man at our church sing Bring Him Home from Les Miserables. It was quite moving, and lovely.

(Valjean is standing over Marius at the barricade)

VALJEAN
God on high
Hear my prayer
In my need
You have always been there

He is young
He's afraid
Let him rest
Heaven blessed.
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.

He's like the son I might have known
If God had granted me a son.
The summers die
One by one
How soon they fly
On and on
And I am old
And will be gone.

Bring him peace
Bring him joy
He is young
He is only a boy

You can take
You can give
Let him be
Let him live
If I die, let me die
Let him live
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.

This man singing the original version is great as well.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NrX_WT9LGzo

calling out beauty

2011-02-12T09:44:00.003-06:00

My family is considered a big family already, and we have another baby on the way. When I first found out I was pregnant, I balked. Not that I didn't want the baby-far from that. I did panic a little wondering how it would work. My first thought was "Can I handle 5 children?" and that was dismissed as silly pretty quickly: we already have 4. What's one more? Then I thought how we already have two kids in each small bedroom of our house. I panicked about logistics, not about a new baby. When I was 17, 18, and then freshly married, I was thinking very differently about how big our family would be. I was sure I'd have just one or two kids, but I also thought sometimes that without my two siblings growing up life would have been (and would be now) very lonely. Now, I don't know what we're going to do about space. Bunk beds with a trundle? Triple bunks? Yet, that doesn't matter much. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter if we don't have a room for everyone- it only matters that we have room in our hearts. I know that sounds cheesy, but it's true. We've gotten past the fears together, most of them, and everyone is rejoicing on every step of the way toward our new family member. The baby has really started to move, not just flutters, and I am ecstatic dreaming about him/her. Finishing college...I don't care if it takes forever. My husband's job...well, we've always had what we needed even if we had to wait.

We bought our first piece of furniture last night, a couch. We've always had hand-me-downs. There is nothing wrong with hand-me-downs and thrift store furniture, but we've been saving for something new and it's exciting to go pick something. When we were both working, we had a friend who worked at one of of those rent-a-center places and rented some couches for a short time. We realized how dumb that was pretty quickly, and even though we'd wanted to help our friend make sales, financially we were throwing money to the wind.

We went into the furniture store as we usually do our shopping, with all four kids. It's sometimes frustrating when the kids aren't patient but we love being together. Since we stopped homeschooling, we are not all together as much, and miss it. The furniture salesmen watched us walk in, and I know they were thinking, "Oh, crap." The kids had fun trying all the chairs and couches with us. We finally asked for a salesman to come over after looking around. We had actually been there before, left, and checked two other stores and then came back. Most of the stores had all leather or durablend, or fake leather. I cannot stand the look of leather, the feel of it...the durablend was a little better, but still ugly. This store had a corduroy looking fabric couch. They had some microsuedes but I don't really like those either. That overstuffed look is strange to me. We came back to this particular store because they offer a protection plan (who knew you could insure a couch) where if the couch gets something spilled on it, or a rip, you call a tech to come out and either replace a cushion, or if they can't replace a part, replace the couch.

The salesman that came over shook hands with all of us, and said hi to all the kids. He was probably younger than my husband, winked constantly, and was pretty funny. He was honest with us, and explained why most fabric couches are junk when you have kids. We were shown leather looking couches that wouldn't stain, and with protection plans in case they tore. He told us about his two year old son, and when we got to talking he asked if the kids were all ours. He said he had three siblings, but two were from his parent's previous marriage, and he shrugged, "You know, that doesn't count because two of them weren't around a lot." That isn't the case in our mixed family, but I think we have a unique situation in that our older two are with us 90% of the year. We don't explain to strangers usually, and just said they are all ours. When he noticed I am pregnant, he starting laughing, and shaking his head, repeatedly saying, "That is so funny! Wow! Amazing." My husband and I exchanged glances and grins at the man's amazement. Since we know couples with far more children than us, five doesn't sound like that much.

It's funny: I know this astounded behavior at the concept of large families is normal. In our society, and in the society I was raised in, a large family was a thing of the past. Sure, great-grandma had ten kids, but that was before people had ways to control their family size. It's that word -control- that shakes us. We don't want to just have kid after kid. More women than not don't even consider breastfeeding, and certainly not long term, so family size isn't controlled naturally in that way. We want our 4 or five years of marriage free and clear before having children. We are told to have a certain lifestyle before having kids, ya know, no debt, a sizable house with an office and a guest room and a craft or "man" room, cars bought outright or paid off, etc. The fact is, having most of those things early in life means you had an understanding of finances that most young people don't, you never made mistakes, or you were born into an affluent family that has provided them for you. Or, you worked your behind off and didn't have time for starting a family. When our whole existence is concentrated on creating our particular brand of comfort, the things that really make a life are pushed away, and called obsolete. Honestly, it doesn't matter how many Apple products you own, reader. At some point, you have to come to terms with the fact that technology is not our future. Our children are. Yet, we exist in a world where we're constantly assaulted.

At the obstetrician's office, every advertisement you see says something like "Ready to take control of your life?" "Have the perfect family and want to stop?" "Have children when you want them-no accidents!" It is this idea that our life is under our control that corrupts us, I am convinced. When we think it's all up to us, we're fooling ourselves.

Having a big family has just become our way of living. It's not something we spend time dwelling upon. What we can't have, or won't be able to do, is becoming less and less important. My husband has a stable job, for now, and I don't have to work. We have what we need and more. I think sometimes I wouldn't be so optimistic if work had been harder for him to find, or if we were really poverty level and couldn't afford insurance and had to take food stamps. Fortunately, in the state we live in, aid is there and you can get it if you need it. It's sad that a big family usually means welfare in the United States, but hey. You do what you have to, and it shouldn't be assumed that accepting aid means you're a lazy slob. My own father didn't have the experience or education to find work anywhere but in a factory or in construction. I respect his struggles to provide for us more than any desk jockey who thinks they work hard to earn their money. I grew up on welfare off and on, and I understand that not everyone takes aid because they are truly not able to earn enough to survive in our economy. It is evil, however, to use that knowledge to judge who should receive. Christ himself says to give to those who need it without scrutinizing who really has a need.

I recently came across this quote from Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh: "Unless we look at a person and see the beauty there, we can contribute nothing to him. One does not help a person by discerning what is wrong, what is ugly, what is distorted. Christ looked at everyone he met, at the prostitute, at the thief, and saw the beauty hidden there. Perhaps it was distorted, perhaps damaged, but it was beauty none the less, and what he did was to call out this beauty."

I doubt this quote is to make us think of the homeless or down and out person that we don't know exclusively. I think we are to also look at our extended families, spouses, children, priests, and friends.

Maybe, even, we should look at ourselves and try to call out the beauty there.

interesting

2011-02-09T21:42:00.000-06:00

I found this post on Margaritki very interesting. You may as well. She gives a very bold presentation, and a good explanation - without beating around the theological bush.

My son, the Viking, and a band

2011-02-07T17:15:00.000-06:00

Elijah has decided that he is no longer going to be a policeman. "I am going to be a Viking. I need a helmet, a big axe, and a shield. Oh, and a warrior ship." I am sure he will find it a thrilling career choice. I love that boy.

On another note, my husband turned me onto this band, which is just fun to listen to.

2011-02-05T08:43:00.001-06:00

Reward system

2011-01-31T09:49:00.000-06:00

I absolutely sound like a fussy home schooler complaining about public education in the last few posts. I am just frustrated, forgive me. My kids could be in a much worse school system. In fact, there are schools down the street that are part of the city instead of the county system here that make most parents rejoice if their kids are in a county school. As I've said before, the county schools here and the one my kids are currently attending are very good.

Here is an argument, less than a complaint: Why must elementary age children be constantly rewarded? I feel like my kids are learning that even minimum effort will be rewarded, and so they are working less hard. They have figured out the system. I didn't constantly reward them...their reward was an education. Their reward was new knowledge, a new book maybe. Now, especially because they are both above grade level, they do next to nothing and get parties and candy and toy prizes. I don't understand this system of rewarding to motivate. What happens when children grow up, and realize that adulthood, marriage, parenting, faith, and many other grown-up things have no rewards? Or, not the "prize" type of reward, anyway. What reality is this teaching?

I read a post by Juliana over at Metanoia, and I think she's on to something, and it's partly what I am getting at with this argument against rewarding every tiny thing. She wrote:

"I have been thinking about how people (especially those in affluent countries) avoid pain at all costs. The moment one has a headache, some pill is taken (even if it’s an over-the-counter medication). We really cannot even tolerate any discomfort. We cannot stand to be too warm, too cool or hungry for any length of time (the candy bar must be had because we can’t possibly wait a couple more hours for dinner). I know someone who has a remote control for his car so that he can start his vehicle from inside his home and turn on the air conditioning/heat so that it’s a comfortable temperature when he gets in the car to leave. It makes me wonder how palatable Orthodoxy is to Americans or anyone from an affluent country. Can Orthodoxy grow here? How can Americans be asked to go without certain foods for half of the year? Can a culture that avoids pain at all costs embrace a faith that asks them to deny themselves anything?"

It is precisely this concept of avoidance of any pain that I am talking about, whether it's physical pain or mental anguish. We don't want anyone to feel that they are not comfortable. Getting bad grades in school? Not doing your schoolwork? That's A-OK! Just show a tiny bit of effort and you'll be having pizza and candy and extra play time. This is a distortion of love, and a lie to ourselves and our children. It is also sad to acclimate to, and then to realize that there is no easy path to knowledge, whether educational or spiritual. One small victory often leads to an even bigger struggle than before. I understand, sometimes, that this is the nature of a life following Christ. Yet, reward systems are in place that teach a love of the golden calf where gratification is found even in selfishness and that reward is always comfortable and instant.

Of course, I just read Narnia again and I am reminded here that God's love is beyond our understanding. Aslan is the representation of Christ, and while he is revered and his abundant love is known by all who love him, they constantly remind each other, "He is not a tame lion." We are not necessarily rewarded in a fun way for our faith. Anyone that isn't lying about their piety cannot say martydom is the reward they seek.

Help an Orthodox soldier hear the Liturgy and prayers

2011-01-30T09:23:00.001-06:00

From the SGOMA fb page:

We at Saint George OMA would like with God's help to do an pre-loaded MP3 player free for our Orthodox military with three Divine Liturgies recorded, with prayers, teachings, music (old/new), etc. Would you, your parish or your business be able to help with a donation for this project?

You can send your contribution for this project to us at:

Saint George MP3 Project

P.O. Box 778

Belen, NM 87002

918.346.5381

Sounds like a worthy cause to me.

Not till next year...

2011-01-28T14:49:00.000-06:00

Had a long phone meeting today with the APEX (gifted/talented) teacher. Looking at my kid's Stanford scores (refer to this post), she can't help me. Because Stanford 10 measures many different areas, while TCAP gives an overall score. They rely on an overall score of 90-95%.

She also told me that my kids are testing high on the periodic tests the school had given them (not an annual test, but tests in areas like math and reading). My daughter is not in 3rd grade, and while her math scores put her in the 94 percentile and she is reading at a 5th grade level in 2nd grade, she isn't old enough to be eligible. Ok, fine. She can't consider my son's 3rd grade scores because he didn't finish the "measurement" tests they have been giving. I asked if the questions he finished were correct, and she said yes. But since he didn't finish the test, he only scored 47th percentile. None of the other children in his class didn't finish the test. I was like...so...hmm...That's stupid. All she could say was that maybe he stopped and/or was confused about whether or not he should go on. I didn't tell her that but what the heck happened with him that didn't happen with the rest of the kids? So he is stuck with a 47 score, and therefore not eligible for the talented class based on that, even if she could pull some strings to get him in on his test scores, and she'll have to wait until he takes the TCAP and re-evaluate him next year. They don't recieve the TCAP scores until the end of this school year and therefore, he is where he is.

Really? This sounds very similar to the way our government runs finances.

Son, thou art welcome.

2011-01-21T12:35:00.000-06:00

I was reading the Chronicles of Narnia again lately, mostly to get out of reading the drab science that I should be studying. To be specific, I was reading The Silver Chair and The Last Battle, which I could not remember clearly.

At the end of the Last Battle, a young Calormene (the enemy of Narnians that worships a god called Tash) named Emeth is found to be in the "real Narnia", when he was thought to be unworthy of being allowed into Aslan's land. I enjoyed reading this, an account of Emeth telling the Kings and Queens of Narnia how he had spoken to Aslan:

"Then I fell at his feet and thought, surely this is the hour of death, for the Lion (who is worthy of all honour) will know that I have served Tash all my days and not him. Nevertheless, it is better to see the Lion and die than to be Tisroc of the world and live and not to have seen him. But the Glorious One bent down his golden head and touched my forehead with his tongue and said, 'Son, thou art welcome.' But I said, 'Alas, Lord, I am no son of thine but the servant of Tash.' He answered, 'Child, all the service thou hast done to Tash, I account as service done to me.' Then by reason of my great desire for wisdom and understanding, I overcame my fear and and questioned the Glorious One and said, 'Lord, is it then true, as the treacherous Ape said, that thou and Tash are one?' The Lion growled so the earth shook (but his wrath was not against me) and said, 'It is false. Not because he and I are one, but because we are opposites - I take to me the services which thou has done unto him. For I and he are of such different kinds that no service which is vile can be done to me, and none which is not vile can be done to him. Therefore, if any man swear by Tash and keep his oath for the oath's sake, it is by me that he has truly sworn, though he know it not, and it is I who reward him. And if any man do a cruelty in my name, then, though he says the name of Aslan, it is Tash whom he serves and by Tash his deed is accepted. Dost though understand, Child?' I said, 'Lord, though knowest how much I understand.' But I said also (for the truth constrained me), 'Yet, I have been seeking Tash all my days.' 'Beloved,' said the Glorious One, 'unless thy desire had been for me thou wouldst not have sought so long and so truly. For all find what they seek.'

Page 757 of the chapter 'Further Up and Further In". At least it's page 757 in the book I have which includes all of the books.

Do you get the jitters every year?

2011-01-18T15:57:00.000-06:00

Going back to homeschooling actually isn't as intimidating as starting homeschooling. But it's still scary!

It's constantly on my mind, I think I just might go crazy. :) In the face of my children's education, a new baby, helping with a home school group (in the future), and trying to (slowly, slowly) keep taking college classes sounds impossible. I tend to think things are less possible than they are until I start doing them, though.

Saw these lyrics on another blog, and I hadn't listened to our Rich Mullins CDs in a while. Do you know the song? You may not know the song, but you better know the artist or you're square.

Sometimes my life
Just don't make sense at all
When the mountains look so big
And my faith just seems so small

So hold me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace

And I wake up in the night and feel the dark
It's so hot inside my soul
I swear there must be blisters on my heart

So hold me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace

Surrender don't come natural to me
I'd rather fight You for something
I don't really want
Than take what You give that I need
And I've beat my head against so many walls
Now I'm falling down, I'm falling on my knees

And this Salvation Army band
Is playing this hymn
And Your grace rings out so deep
It makes my resistance seem so thin

So hold me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace

You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace

In the face of these things, my faith seems pretty darn small. Microscopic in fact. I have hope- we took our kids out of school today to go to church and I knew when we were there it was a great thing. If we homeschool, they'll miss far less.

So do we homeschool again?

2011-01-17T12:19:00.001-06:00

My kids are two semesters into public school. They are in a reasonably good school system, with seasoned teachers who they've identified with, and a fair curriculum. I'm pleased with the school, pleased with how much they have enjoyed it (which isn't over the top enthusiasm, but general happiness), and have very little to complain about unless I try very hard. They have gotten easy straight A's and are on the honor roll and have gotten citizenship awards and etc.

My little, nagging problem: even a fair public school curriculum is nothing compared to a classical home school curriculum.

First, the kids have said they aren't learning history and geography. They essentially are not, compared to what they were doing. My mother in law, who has taught in private and public schools for a long time says that after 4th grade they will get into more. I don't see why they should wait...but I know why. The school is required and forced by state and federal regulation to teach to the middle. That's another gripe that I can't offer a solution to. They have social studies and map skills (read: neighborhood maps) instead of history and world geography. What they have learned about history this year has been- and even this was presented so basically and quickly they haven't really sunk into it- America is the City on the Hill and the jungle is over there. We were teaching them ancient history, moving towards medieval history, and had planned to begin modern history in the next school year. Of course, our idea of teaching history is far different than the elementary school they are attending. A few times I have liked a lesson they were taught, but it was touched upon too briefly.

Science is the other complaint my dear ones have had. They don't do science experiments. They have no hands on science. I know asking for this in an elementary school is probably reaching, because they have no funding for it, but why isn't it possible?? They have had a few "science projects" like research a jungle animal (public schools love the rain forest!) and my daughter had a cute field trip to collect tree leaf and needle samples and label them. Zachary, who is 9 tomorrow, mentioned that in the first two semesters of home school he had made a volcano, put together a skeleton and labeled the bones, constructed the organs of the human body and had a basic understanding of their function, experimented with floating, batteries, other forms of making electricity, conduction, condensation, etc. We did an experiment every week, he pointed out. "And they were simple, easy stuff to do. Not expensive," he noted. Good point, kiddo.

Their reading and mathematics is basic. They are reading several grades above but I must still push them to read everything. The literature encouraged by observing their peers is junk. I told them they are not allowed to bring home from the library Disney or Barbie or any such stupid book based on a movie or television program. What poor reading! Thankfully, the library has a lot of books and they have chosen well. I am not disappointed in what they're reading after we got what real literature is straightened out.

They must conform to state guidelines to enter into accelerated classes. There is a limited number of spaces for the accelerated classes, and they only go once a week. So my children must wait to take the test the school gives, since they can't take test scores that another institution gave. My children took the Stanford 10 each year but their fantastic scores there are of no consequence. Next year, after their TCAP (the state test) scores are assessed, they could possibly be placed in the accelerated class, bearing that there is room and that they test ABOVE 95%. This is the not the gifted/talented class I remember from my elementary years.

All of this is NOT to say that their school is bad. For what they have to work with, it's a nice school. What they have to work with is the problem. NCLB is a crapshoot, ladies and gentlemen. Terror of racial predjudice that removes gifted/talented and requires a certain amount of children of each skin color, and removes classes to help underachieving students, is ridiculous in this day and age. We're not helping anybody out by lowering standards and dropping funding for "extras" which were once essentials.

I am taking 15+ credit hours a semester for college to get through my undergrads quickly. I am pregnant with our fifth child, and now I am asking God and myself and my husband and my children:

What should we do about education next year?

God help us and be with us.

Photo of snowy church in Memphis

2011-01-10T07:53:00.001-06:00

My husband took this photo of our church from his mobile phone at work last night. It has been snowing in Memphis, which is a shocker, and I thought the way this picture turned out was interesting.

I kiss dem.

2011-01-04T19:17:00.000-06:00

Before dinner Elisabeth points to a Christ icon and says, "That Daddy God Christ with book." (Christ was holding the gospel book) Then she points at the Theotokos enthroned and says, "That pretty Mama Tokos and baby Christ. I kiss dem."

Ella asks each morning to go to church. She crosses herself, copying her older siblings, but her cross is up, down, up. Close enough for a not even two year old, methinks.

This one might turn out ok.

Seeing angels

2011-01-03T10:28:00.000-06:00

My husband recounted to me a great homily I missed while out with the toddler. He posted about it here, and it's worth reading. This is also a far better answer to why I cover my head than I could probably write.

salvation

2010-12-31T09:52:00.001-06:00

"...and in His substitutionary death on the cross He made provision for the redemption of men from sin."

The above quote is from Eric Geiger's Christ Fellowship church websites statement of beliefs. I recently read a quote by him which stated that if one's church does not look like one's city, the church is not following Christ. He leads several mega-churches in Miami and on his website the most prevalent thing is the sale of his book about "Simple Church", which teaches leaders how to bring about spiritual transformation in their congregation. Geiger recently blogged a brochure of "stats" from Christ Fellowship, which includes exactly how many persons attend on a Sunday (around 1000) and how many were "saved" at a given service.

When I first became a Christian (or thought I had through one single thought recognizing that I believed in Christ and his saving work on the cross), I was extremely confused by theological statements like the one above. There I was, now a Christian, a disciple of Christ, following Him and loving Him. Conversely, I was sinning, in thought, word, and deed. So I was left feeling guilty and confused, and I certainly was not growing the "relationship with Jesus Christ" which seemed to be the pinnacle of faith in God and His Son. In fact, at times I questioned if Jesus was really my "personal Saviour". This is the rhetoric I was taught, and it was all I had to work with at the time. How could Christ have died for me, to redeem me from sin, and yet I was actively sinning while confessing that I believed in a God who took my sins away, and "washed me white as snow". I was far from white as snow, and knew it. And because I felt I had somehow been mistaken in my allegiance to Christ, since my sin was not gone, I was at a standstill.

I spent a lot of time listening to sermons and Christian rocks songs that kept saying the same sort of things over and over. If I said A, I would get B. If I really believed C, I would really receive D. If Christ died, then I was "cleansed". The equations I was learning were simple and had only one end result, and they were supposed to be "sufficient for me" as the song goes. I was also taught that if I heard that one sermon (so make sure you're on the edge of your seat), and "got the message" from God then my heart would be transformed and I would be a new woman, ready to accept my mission from Christ. Oh, and don't forget that your mission is ALWAYS partly to be a bouncy, talkative greeter or Sunday school teacher. Then, you're off to the mission field to as happily and confidently share Jesus. But then I was very young, shy and quiet, and not really sure what was going on. I heard how those truly in love with Christ must get up and give their testimony about how God changed their heart. Yet my heart wasn't changed! It was easy, though, to listen to a cute sermon with some well-placed jokes and then get swept up in the emotional waves of music that demanded, comfortably so, nothing from me. I could go to whatever church I felt more comfortable in, as well. At home, all I had to do was read my bible for five minutes a day, listen to music that would lift me up, and tell Jesus I loved Him a lot through my personal prayer.

The first time I was really uncomfortable in a church was when it all came back to this salvation thing. I was at a church that claimed many "new and revolutionary" things. The day in question was one where several children were ushered forward by their parents, and they took the microphone from the Hawaiian shirt clad pastor and said awkwardly with some coaching that they had accepted Jesus Christ into their heart. Then, a few homeless people were brought up the same way. Each proclamation set off a chorus of "Amen!" and Hallelujah!" No amen ringing out was mine, since saying amen was an agreement and I did not agree. Hands were waving in the air, women were crying, and hugs were being freely given. Then the music started, songs of praise for the new disciples who had become Christians that day. The music went on for a long time. I stared at the faces of the newly Christian and wanted to weep. Had they begun down the same path as I, one of false actions to fit in, and confused, guilty prayers to a God that they weren't sure was still around since that glittering day of "acceptance"? Would they sin, and wonder where the Jesus Christ of their personal salvation had gone?

I've learned a lot since then. Leaving non-denominational churches helped. Where I found less freedom to just "hang out with God", I discovered a God that existed ineffably. I didn't have to have some instant conception of who and what God is. This type of understanding and holiness is not met easily or quickly.

Salvation that revolves around the idea of "substitutionary death... to make provision for...redemption from sin" is so empty to me now. Not that I understand much, but the Pascha hymn resounds throughout everything I know, and it's not confusing at all. Christ trampled death by death. He didn't magically take away that inclination to sin that we were so good at fostering, He didn't make our ancestry non-existent. The salvation that I trust is one that speaks of the end of death, which is the great end result of sin. The equation is a bit more complicated, and not necessarily cause and effect.

I hope what I'm hammering at here makes a wee bit of sense.

On other fronts, Elijah, who is 3, asked me what New Years is, since we're going to celebrate it with extended family. I drew a blank. I've never really done the resolution thing, and my family didn't watch the ball drop and what not. I finally told him that it's just a celebration of time continuing and the year changing from 2010 to 2011. The most important thing to him was when I said his 4th birthday would be in the new year. In 2011, Ella will be 2, Eli will be 4, Zach will be 9, and Beth will be 8. And we'll have a new baby to love. Being a slightly overzealous catechumen, admittedly, I'm excited about the new baby being baptized.

It will be a full year. Tonight, slow cooked pork and sauerkraut! There's something to celebrate.

news!

2010-12-23T10:25:00.000-06:00

We are expecting a new baby, due in July of the coming year. I am very happy.

But that is all I have to say for now. I am so tired. Pray for our family, and especially for my unborn child. I heard his/her heartbeat for the first time yesterday and it was very loud and strong. No matter how many children you have, hearing that heartbeat the first time just hits you in the chest like a ton of bricks. It's so beautiful and steady and alive.

Baby in the womb at ten weeks.

Mary, did you know?

2010-12-21T19:43:00.002-06:00

The week is passing quickly. Wrapping presents, decorating, as well as various cold weather activities have kept my household busy. I am pretty much recovered from being sick, finally. A cold still lingers- but it isn't too bothersome.

Nativity is very close. We were listening to some Christmas music earlier this evening and heard the song Mary, did you know? I'll bet some of you out there have heard it. Some memorable lines are Mary, did you know that your baby boy would give sight to a blind man? The song speaks of some of the things Christ did in his lifetime, and contrasts those things with the tiny child whose birth we celebrate in just a few days.

Mary, did you know

that your baby boy would one day walk on water?

Mary, did you know

that your baby boy would save our sons and daughters?

Did you know

that your baby boy has come to make you new?

This Child that you delivered will soon deliver you.

Mary, did you know

that your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?

Mary, did you know

that your baby boy will calm the storm with His hand?

Did you know

that your baby boy has walked where angels trod?

When you kissed your little baby you kissed the face of God?

Mary did you know...

The blind will see

The deaf will hear

The dead will live again

The lame will leap

The dumb will speak

The praises of The Lamb

Mary, did you know

that your baby boy is Lord of all creation?

Mary, did you know

that your baby boy would one day rule the nations?

Did you know

that your baby boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?

The sleeping Child you're holding is the Great I Am.

In Orthodox tradition, Mary, the Theotokos, knew full well who she was and who she would bear. It was announced to her clearly by an angel. Further, the Theotokos was promised to God and raised in the church, joyfully entering the temple when she was only three, and remaining there through adulthood, a virgin whose life was devoted to God. Surely, she was closer to God than many of us will ever be, and understood much more than we can imagine. Still, I think about how she was also a young woman, pregnant with her first child. In her holiness, I suppose she could have been without fear. I don't know that she knew just how many things her Son would do...who could have comprehended what the God-man would accomplish.

In the forefeast of the canon, Saint John of Damascus wrote, "How shall a small cave receive thee, for Whom the world cannot find a room? O thou Whom none can comprehend! O Thou, Who with the Father are without beginning, how shalt thou appear as a small child?" Our priest reminded us that we must remember not only the small baby born in a cave, but the man that healed blindness and raised many from the dead, and He who is Immanuel (God with us), but is also Christ who sits in judgement on the last day, casting demons and sinners into a river of fire. Who can comprehend the great I AM?

If there's anything important to instill in our kids today, I think we need to instill that dual vision- not just the sweet, perfect baby Jesus laid in the glowing manger with his parents leaning lovingly around him which is most recognized this time of year. There is joy, more joy than can be expressed in words, but there also fear that should be taught. I've seen often that things that are Truth are not sweet and soft and pretty. I just hope that parents, especially Orthodox parents, will work against the sparkling images of modern Christmas and tell their children that God is not a lovely tree hanging low with decorations, nor is He a stack of presents waiting to be torn into. Just some thoughts from a young mother who still doesn't know.

Christ is born! Glorify him!

Update

2010-12-13T16:41:00.000-06:00

What a long December it has been already.

My kids had strep throat, and after just a week's respite we ALL contracted Influenza B. We are on the mend and the big kids are back at school. Even with healing happening, I am exhausted. I started trying to get the house back in order after a week of being couch and bed-ridden, and barely finished straightening my kitchen before I decided it would be best to shut up and sit down.

I've loved the saints of this fast, and the feast days. St. Barbara, St. Nicholas of Myra, St. Herman of Alaska, Conception of the Theotokos...What beautiful remembrances along with the joy of the coming of the birth of the Christ child.

Short post. More to come hopefully later.

obligatory Thanksgiving post

2010-11-25T08:34:00.001-06:00

Before I start cooking today, I thought I'd say something here. I'm getting off easy-I only have a to bring a few dishes to the family meal. I am in charge of some veggie side dishes and am making green bean casserole (one of my favorites) and eggplant parm casserole. Plus some cookies and beer will be included.

There was never a history to Thanksgiving in my house growing up. It was chiefly a time of our little family (we didn't go to the big family gathering because of family disagreements) eating more than we usually did and Mom making her famous cheeseball. I learned the "first Thanksgiving" story in my small town public elementary school, and no one ever disputed it. Later in high school I read a few essays on the horrors that the settlers inflicted on the locals, but growing up I didn't know anything other than Pilgrims and Indians and sharing. That didn't matter much, because the focus was eating together and knowing the garden was done for the year and I didn't have to weed or mow anymore. It was usually not quite cold enough yet to worry about how gathering wood for our woodburner would soon replace summer chores.

Even now, I think of several things mainly when I think "Thanksgiving Day". I think of good food and gathering together with family. By now, my husband's side of the family who we gather with has ten grandchildren running around together, it's sometimes chaotic but having a bunch of kids underfoot is nice. When I married my husband, we lived with my parent's in law for a while and I helped my mother-in-law make all the family dishes for the holidays. The family meals have become a part of life in the past six years, and I look forward to them each year. Some of the best times with my mother growing up was cooking with her, so I also enjoyed cooking with my mother-in-law. She's a good woman and I love her dearly. I'm glad she's shared the family recipes with me and welcomed me into her family. I went by her house yesterday and saw she was putting out the family silverware for today's meal. It's a lovely, heavy old set that feels real in your hand and beats plasticware anyday. Thank God for having family in town, we're very lucky. I am very lucky in my in-laws and can't remember that enough.

This year, I am looking forward to spending the afternoon just being together with family. Elijah, my three year old tank of a boy, is excited about the big bird we'll be eating and wants to know who shot it. He'll be disappointed to learn it came from the store freezer. I am thankful that my husband doesn't have to work today...other years he has. I am glad he has a steady job and even likes his job. My father worked construction and factory jobs his whole life and when I was in my pre-teens he learned to hate the back-breaking work as age came on. If my husband remains a police officer, he'll retire with a pension at 50.

Happy Thanksgiving, blogdom. May God grant you many years of memories, and an immediate and extended family whose love extends beyond the present trial.

You Are

2010-11-18T16:29:00.000-06:00

For Joseph. You are the best thing.

Help a Monastery

2010-11-17T17:33:00.000-06:00

Click here and respond accordingly. Thanks. And share it, too.

mercy

2010-11-10T11:28:00.000-06:00

If you had to guess, where would you say the newest challenge to the family's formerly exclusive claim to the socialization of its children has come from?

Mass media?

Peer group?

Nope.

From day care centers. Ugh.

Lord, have mercy!

Click here.

2010-11-05T19:24:00.000-05:00

Information to communicate to the Patriarch Ignatios IV and the Synod of Antioch. Click.

a stanza or two, on a friday

2010-11-05T10:32:00.000-05:00

Been awhile since I got a poem up on a Friday. I remembered lately my teen love of Bukowski, reading his work in a bookstore in Vegas, from a book I didn't intend to buy because he's not that good. Then I'd slide the book back onto the shelf with it's expensive sticker and go to work. Work was a tiny Italian restaurant where I worked shoulder to shoulder with a really excellent Mexican family who invited me to dinner all the time. They came across the border illegally, and were paid in cash. They were authentic and tough. Man, I miss those people. They made me BBQ when I came over the first few times because, as the head cook Victor said, "Americans eat this." I am from the north and didn't know much about BBQ at that point, and I laughed so hard. I miss the smell of pizza sauce and dough from scratch and the warmth of the huge pizza oven at the restuarant. The owner was trying to expand, maybe get a store in one of the casinos, and he was Italian and came around every few months to wax on about his big Italian family and yell at us for not chopping the chopped antipasto fine enough. It was fun, the rush and bustle of the place pulled you in. It was always busy, so busy, and smells to die for. I even miss the red checkered table cloths that constantly hovered on the edges of my vision.

Bukowski fit into that cynical time in my life, at 17, largely alone in Las Vegas and riding the bus every day because I couldn't afford a car. Anyway, here's a short one.

splash

the illusion is that you are simply

reading this poem.

the reality is that this is

more than a

poem.

this is a beggar's knife.

this is a tulip.

this is a soldier marching

through Madrid.

this is you on your

death bed.

this is Li Po laughing

underground.

this is not a god-damned

poem.

this is a horse asleep.

a butterfly in

your brain.

this is the devil's

circus.

you are not reading this

on a page.

the page is reading

you.

feel it?

it's like a cobra. it's a hungry eagle circling the room.

this is not a poem. poems are dull,

they make you sleep.

these words force you

to a new

madness.

you have been blessed, you have been pushed into a

blinding area of

light.

the elephant dreams

with you

now.

the curve of space

bends and

laughs.

you can die now.

you can die now as

people were meant to

die:

great,

victorious,

hearing the music,

being the music,

roaring,

roaring,

roaring.

Charles Bukowski

another gem from s-p

2010-11-04T18:21:00.000-05:00

Pithless Thoughts: Curmudgeophan on Tools of the Trade

2010-11-01T15:36:00.002-05:00

Check this out.

2010-10-26T09:20:00.001-05:00

If I know one thing, I know we should imitate Christ. Most of the time I don't know how I should do that, let alone how others should.

Of what I understand about the AOANA controversy, I also don't know what to do with it. I only know that God dwells within the Church, I know the presence of the seraphim and the cherubim. I see our Holy Mother gazing down over us. The saints, many martyrs, who not only protested but died for the kingdom of heaven also look solemnly out. My priest comes and sits with us and teaches us. He tells my children he loves them, and blesses them. I often stand beside my godmother and sing ancient prayers.Then I know that I should be there.

We sing the Beatitudes at Divine Liturgy. These words are one of the most beautiful things we sing.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,

For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn,

For they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek,

For they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,

For they shall be filled.

Blessed are the merciful,

For they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart,

For they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers,

For they shall be called sons of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake,

For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

The bolded section we do not go on to sing, but look at what it says. We're persecuted. From within the Church it seems unbelieveable and stinks. But it's happening-and has happened, not only in the current AOANA controversy.

You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned? It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men.

You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.

"And it gives light to all who are in the house." I wish that those who have a stronger understanding would guide those who don't. There are times when dissent is understandable and necessary, but those who are good lay people are left without stronger understanding. It's much harder to find your way to the house when it's dark inside and dark all around, when there is no light around. Christ saw the multitude, and he called them to himself and taught them. He didn't leave them to their own devices. Love in Christ extends to more people than those who are familiar and those who are like us, to those who make no sense to us and certainly to those in which we see a lack or a stumbling.

If we are to love our enemies, pray for them, sacrifice every comfort and personal gain to stand and be named righteous, even so far as to die willingly at the hand of persecuters, then what good is it to strike for the greener plain or the desert in times of trouble? What sort of sacrifice is required? Is it one of withdrawal, or one of suffering?

Then I have children. I'm not taking them out of the Church. The eccelesial politics are beyond them (partially beyond me!) and so there is no good in removing them.

So I don't know.

My mother in law talks all the time about the horrors of situational ethics. It's one of the things I agree with that she refers to alot.

Lord, have mercy upon the AOANA.

Here's a maybe unrelated quote I recently read that might be relevant or I just like it...or something: You do not have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body. -C.S. Lewis

Rambling

2010-10-22T13:49:00.003-05:00

Reading my sociology textbooks makes me wonder: is the resistance to Orthodox practices I have seen in some friends and even family members a result of the American idea of democracy? If democracy is the best, and greatest form as we are taught and adhere to, if the US is doing it right (as we are taught so carefully not to be communists or autocratic in any way), then a faith that doesn't specifically focus on the worth of the individual only is in opposition. I am not saying I think democracy is incorrect, I mean to say I was thinking about the differences between autocratic government and democratic government. The definitions of each are interesting to contrast, and just leaving paraklesis, having asked repeatedly that the Lord have mercy, I cannot help but think about this as it relates to the Church.

If classic democratic ideology says that an individual is born free, that they are not subject to the rule of others, and that the only legitimate basis for rule is consent to be ruled, and if America is regarded as a democratic society which is founded on classic democratic ideologies, then I see how it would be hard for some to accept Orthodoxy in fullness, especially in adulthood. When you have been taught it is correct to be an individual, free of rule, born with personal freedoms to do what you like, how hard it must be to look at Orthodoxy without fear. Orthodoxy does not revolve around one person, or their separate identity and worth alone, and constantly (thought not to the exclusion of the individual) looks toward that individual's value as a part of a larger Body.

Democracy is defined also in my text as "existing at the pleasure of the people and having no authority or purpose except as defined by the people". When combined with economic ideologies, the democratic ideology suffers, and so have the pleasures, purpose, and authority then become corrupted? I think it is safe to say that Protestant history shows this ideal of democracy, that the church exists for the pleasure of the people and largely has no authority or purpose except as defined by the people. If my thinking is anywhere close to any reality, then the teachings of Christ are also in opposition to classic democracy.

Just rambling. Back to the books. Pray for me.

silliness

2010-10-20T21:35:00.000-05:00

Today I recieved a letter in the mail, quite an interesting letter. It seems I am to recieve $141.63 from Walgreens, where I worked over 4 years ago as an assistant manager. You must know, reader, that I only worked there nine months. The letter was in regards to my part of a settlement to females who worked in management positions from 2004 to 2009. Apparently, Walgreens was promoting male managers faster, and paying them more. They are putting out 17 million dollars to settle the suit- which I guess indicates that there was good evidence against the company.

I just started laughing reading the letter. I can tell you absolutely that this lawsuit is entirely believable and deserved. While a few hundred dollars is silly, and I don't care if I get it or not, thinking about working at retail management (when I was 19) in a place like Walgreens just makes shiver. The male managers WERE promoted faster, for several reasons. First, the most successful (profit-wise) Walgreens stores (at least at the time, in Memphis) are in the rougher neighborhoods. I thank God I wasn't shot working for the short time I did, because my store was held up 3 times when I was there, and shots fired each time. The store was burglarized on a grand scale 4 times, at night. The clientele and neighborhood was often less than friendly...I was encouraged to enter and exit the store with another employee only. Male managers are more of a threat, and therefore leave less of a vunerablity for such stores. Second reason male managers were more favored: they were more willing to give up their whole life for a high salary. Most of the managers I knew were alcoholics, and that was the least of their problems. I am not saying all of them, but most. Women, I suppose, aren't as likely to work nonstop at something like that, disregarding the other aspects of their life, like health and family.

I don't have to do anything to recieve a settlement. I don't have to make any statement, just having worked there as a female in management guarantees I recieve a settlement. I wouldn't make a statement if that was required, because honestly I was lucky and the job paid exceedingly more than a 19 year old just starting college should be making. My store manager was a good old guy, better than a lot of them, but he was still a mess. He told me when I quit (to stay home with my first baby which I had just found out I was having) that I was making the biggest mistake of my life. The biggest mistake of my life was quitting college so I could make lots of money at a job I didn't qualify for and have no idea how I got in the first place. He said what he did because I was the youngest female employee in the district, and he had pushed to get me hired and pushed me up for promotion. My pregnancy was unexpected and an annoyance. I endured many "you're ruinging your life" talks my two weeks notice before I quit. I honestly think he thought managing a store that had high profits was a great life accomplishment. He was one of the only managers I met with one wife (not divorced), but he was an alcoholic and had bad heart problems from the stress. Retail management is a nightmare and I am glad (no matter the pay) that I did not take that route in my life.

Go to your local pharmacist. Even if I do have some darn nice coffee mugs from the 1,000th store opening.

saints

2010-10-18T09:16:00.000-05:00

Just thinking about my patron.

I'd like to be present at a Divine Liturgy that used the Liturgy of St. James. I have read that it was actually written by St. Cyril of Jerusalem, and while originally used in Jerusalem and Antioch before being replaced by the Liturgy of Sts. Basil and Chrysostom, it is used today primarily in Oriental churches, and only occasionally in Eastern churches. The Liturgy of St. James is, however, referred to as being one of the three Antiochene liturgies. I'd love to hear it, if I could find an Eastern church using it. Is this more common that I have read?

Also, I find conflicting arguments about who St. James actually is. He is conclusively NOT St. James the Greater, but some say he is the Less, AND the brother of the Lord, some differentiate and claim that St. James the Less and St. James the Brother are two different persons. At some point, the blurring doesn't matter too much, I suppose. I recently read about St. Parascheva (Romania, Serbia) and there were at least three different women saints in the Eastern Tradition called St. Parascheva and the third's relics are the ones specifically venerated in the Metropolitan's Cathedral Iasi. I suppose that each perhaps had their patron saint's name as their name, and therefore because of their relationship it makes perfect sense to confuse them at times. This writing from Hegesippus is interesting.

Pray for me.

to-die-for

2010-10-12T19:13:00.000-05:00

My new favorite dessert is affogato, which is hot espresso poured over gelato or vanilla icecream. It's amazing!

Here is an easy home recipe. Try it!

update

2010-10-11T16:07:00.002-05:00

*edited after reading over. Sinus infection equaled statements such as "we are not mold" and "this recipe is fast friendly" when clearly it is not fast friendly. Edited

Sociology is really quite boring. I can't stand it, honestly. Especially the parts that relate to teaching children. I've homeschooled. I've been homeschooled. Reading that the best positive socialization a child receives-and the most important-is in his or her peer group AT SCHOOL just makes me want to giggle. It's all well and good until you remember that we are all individuals and do not all fit in some theory or mould. And schools here (I cannot speak for other countries or societies) are often terrible environments to boot. It's probably the most tedious set of courses I will take in teacher education, especially coming from my background. Granted, I admire some of the viewpoints and theories proposed by sociologists, but I certainly wouldn't want to be them and only have such theories as my legacy.

Moving on, that's school and it's less than interesting. Concerning faith, we were enrolled as catechumens 2 weeks ago and I hope to learn more than a lot in the next year or so before we are chrismated. Thank God for our godparents and especially our children's godparents, and for our priests.

I am missing homeschooling but there are extenuating circumstances which lead to me state positively that my older kids are in a great school with great teachers and are at a great advantage in their personal lives as well. Their high marks make me insanely proud and their teachers have commended me on how well they've been taught. I have plenty of time to spend with my little ones and that is also terrific. Elijah and I are working on preschool skills. He has absolutely no interest in the alphabet or letter sounds (groaning and fussing when I bring out anything to do with reading), so we are taking a break from letters, and looking at colors, numbers, thinking skills, and playing in the dirt (his favorite activity).

I made Irish soda bread recently for a sweet baby boy's baptism and it is FANTASTIC, and also can be made fast friendly. Yum! Here is the recipe (add raisins for extra drool-worthiness!):

Irish Soda Bread

Ingredients:

1 3/4 cups unbleached flour, plus extra for dusting

1 3/4 cups whole-wheat flour

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

2 tbsp unsalted butter

1 1/4 cups buttermilk (pour 1 tbsp + 1 tsp vinegar in a measuring cup; add enough milk to equal 1 1/4 cups)

1. Sift the flours, baking soda and salt together in a large bowl. Rub the butter into the flour with your fingertips until evenlt dipersed.

2. Make a well in the center of the mixture and pour in the buttermilk. Use a wooden spoon to stir in the flour to form a softm crumbly dough.

3. Turn the dough out onto a lightly until smooth, up to 3 minutes.

4. Shape into a flattened round, about 6 in. across and 2 in. thick. Dust w/ flour. Cut a slash 1 in. deep across the top, then another to form an X.

5. Bake in preheated oven at 400Ffor about 35 minutes, until hollow sounding when tapped underneath. Cover w/ dish towel, then cool on a wire rack.

hearsay

2010-09-27T20:45:00.003-05:00

What an interesting word, hearsay.

It's fun to say.

enrollment

2010-09-21T12:11:00.002-05:00

My family will be enrolled as catechumens this Sunday, September 26. Please pray for us all.

submit

2010-09-09T21:56:00.001-05:00

I just clicked submit on a task for my language and communications class. It feels a bit familiar now, a few months in, "going to college" online. I don't think I'm getting the best education the world has to offer. But it's certainly not the worst.

I don't have great aspirations to be a career woman. My finishing college is simply a recognition that I want this as a child of parents who never went to college, and I want my children to know that higher education is important and set an example for them. I also concede that in today's workforce, it's sadly required that you have some sort of degree. It doesn't really matter if it's in under water basket weaving. This is how the world judges how good a person is going to be as an employee. I don't agree with it, but in order to prepare myself to provide for my childen in the event that the worst happens and I have to work I accept this law.

I'll take an average education, since I can meet these impossibly silly standards of judging the worth of an applicant and stay at home with my kids. I embrace this form of education that enables me to sit on the edge of my son's bed and sing him a lullaby while I revise a research presentation outline. That is, if you'll allow me a phrase of my relatively recent teens, hella cool.

Thank God that I am with my children all day. I spent this morning walking and talking with a friend, watching our children run ahead together and stare at the world in amazement. Then I held a dear almost one month old baby boy and watched him working on a social smile. I went home and talked to my wonderful husband and cooked a peach cobbler to share with family, and another for my friend's great little girl's name day. My husband and I played with our four kids for an hour tonight past bedtime and it was so much fun.

Glory to Christ! Glory to her! Life is good.

Birth

2010-09-07T22:59:00.000-05:00

Glory be to Her!

Saw this icon on a Russian website and thought it was particularly lovely.

Pickin' peaches

2010-09-04T14:00:00.001-05:00

I took the kids to Jones Orchard today, a locally owned farm about 15 minutes from my house. We did not get apples or pears, but got a bushel at least of peaches. The kids had a lot of fun, and so did I. We couldn't see anything in any direction other than orchard and soybean fields. What a refreshing sight! Besides it was a beautiful day and the heat of summer has let up.

I have plans to make a peach pie, and a cobbler. We certainly have enough peaches. I loved showing the kids how to figure out which peaches were good and ready to be picked. My littlest was delighted to reach up and pull down fruit. She called every fruit "appbull". I looked at the pear orchard but they were all canning pears and I do not have a canner. Jones Orchard also has apples, which we got a few of but they are also for cooking.

We explored through the orchard grounds and saw a few huge hogs in their pens. Our truck was charged by a gorgeous rooster, which the kids found hilarious. He actually blocked the gravel road so we couldn't pass by for a few minutes.

speaking of celebrating the new year...

2010-09-01T15:38:00.000-05:00

My family is going to be enrolled in September as catechumens! I am very happy.

Thanks be to God!

Call no man father

2010-08-29T20:21:00.000-05:00

Interesting article disputing Protestant misgivings over the title Father.

not a victim

2010-08-25T14:08:00.001-05:00

I have a lot running through my head after our catechism this morning.

We looked at our icon of the Nativity of Christ closely.

Notice the wrappings of the Christ child. These are grave wrappings. Notice where He is laid, not in a light-illumined, hay filled manger, but upon the tomb. Christ was born to die. He was not born to live, as we are, but to die.

Our priest spoke about how Western Christianity views Christ as a victim, but He was not a victim. He was in control of his crucifixion and of His sacrifice. As we say in the Liturgy, He is both the High Priest and the sacrifice. But what does this mean? We discussed this today, and particularly what is on my mind is a relatively new concept. It's not exactly entirely new to me, but I guess I should say unexplored. Everything I have received in Protestant churches has been scratching the surface. What I receive in Orthodox teaching is full of depth and light. Father asked us what redemption is to us. We gave such answers as we knew, or explained what we had previously been taught.

Here is the jist of it, as eloquently as I can manage:

Christ died to trample death by death, as we sing. This is the thing we should focus on. It is not that Christ came to wash us clean from our sins, or to defeat evil, or to make God like us again. What was redeemed was death itself. Christ came into the world to die and in the death of His Divine Humanity, humanity was sanctified and will be resurrected. Christ did not die to pay a debt we sinners owed to God, or a debt owed to the evil one. He died so that death would not be our end, and that eternity would be possible for the souls which He created. We had brought death upon ourselves, and death became nothing through His death and resurrection.

Christ didn't die for me. He didn't die for you. He died to trample down death. His Passion was voluntary, He was in control of the Resurrection, and as a result, upon those in the tombs He bestowed, and is bestowing, life.

Help rebuild St. Nicholas Church!

2010-08-24T17:02:00.000-05:00

The above photo is St. Nicholas Church moments before it was destroyed.

Read about St. Nicholas church here. This church must be rebuilt! Support it in whatever way you can, even if it's just spreading the word.

This isn't about the building of a mosque, which has been huge in media. This is about a church which should have already been rebuilt, before any new worship building is constructed. St. Nicholas's history of 91 years at the site deserves precedence.

Chickens

2010-08-22T11:26:00.000-05:00

I am going to get chickens, I think. Under 4. Just enough to provide us with eggs, but not too stinky or noisy because of our neighborhood. Surely, if our neighbors put up with goats they will put up with chickens.

First, I have to build a chicken tractor. I won't be buying one, since they are absurdly expensive for such a simple structure. I am a wee bit handy. My dad is a woodworker, and I helped him out all the time in his shop as a kid. If I run into a really confusing problem I can call him and I know he'll have a simple answer.

I have looked extensively at plans for a coop. The tractor, which is moveable seems extremely advantageous for the small scale chicken owner. I don't want to do wheels, as the plans I have seen with wheels are more complicated than I have the tools/time for. Instead, I want to build a tractor with lifting handles. If I get lightweight wood the weight should be manageable, and if it's a little heavy (which as small as I'm thinking it should not be) my son or husband can help me move it. I read the tractor should be moved every two or three days, and can be left up to a week if you're ok with the chickens scratching to bare ground, like in a garden. They're like natural tillers! Not to mention fertilizers. They also eat unwanted pests like grubs and snails and the like.

Anyway, I am inclined to try to build a triangular tractor, with a run in the middle and a nesting box and roost on one side, with hinged access for collecting eggs. The other side

(think ---nesting box>/\--run--/\<---feeder cover)

will have the water and feeder inside in order to keep them dry. The feeder side will need hinged access as well, and I have seen a hinged door on the run for access to the chickens as well which I think is a good idea. I had hens growing up and they are stubborn, so if we need to catch one the access door would be helpful.

If all goes as planned, we should have chickens within a few months. This plan might be aborted till spring if something else comes up or I need to focus on school...we'll see. I have a friend who has chickens and is helping me figure out what type of chicken does best here in the south.

2010-08-20T07:48:00.001-05:00

My husband is a police officer. I saw this short video recently. I've seen it before. What I didn't know is that it's narrated by Paul Harvey, talk radio legend, whose father was a police officer that was killed when he was only a small boy after four men tried to rob him off duty.

Policemen

musings

2010-08-12T15:04:00.001-05:00

I am sitting here in the car lane at the elementary school. Absentmindedly observing the fifty some or more butterflies that are flitting about in the field next to the school. I see after-school and extended care kids getting into daycare buses, the same kids whose parents dropped them off a half hour before the bell rang today. I suppose they won't get picked up from after care for a few more hours.

I feel in a bit of a time crunch picking my kids up and having time with them only till eight thirty, which we have declared school night bedtime. I don't know how any parenting gets done when you have the early and extended care situation going. I think it's horrific. That sounds impossibly judgemental, and I know a lot of parents dont't have an easy choice there. If it ever gets to that, I will live in a trailer before I only see my kids to wake them up and put them to sleep. I have quit jobs and lost income before to be at home with my kids, and I'd do it again.

It is a tradgedy, and I am full of sadness for those families. Homeschooling, it's easy to be idealistic and not notice the rest of the neighborhood. The school our kids attend now is small and operates on a neighborhood principle-the kids going here live closeby. I see five year olds holding their younger siblings hand, in this big, crime ridden city, no parent in sight, standing waiting for the bus, and afterward getting on a boxy white daycare bus.

Family in this sense is merely a business arrangment. These students I speak of are not the majority it seems, thank God. But even thirty kids is too many for my perspective. Lord, have mercy.

2010-08-10T10:20:00.000-05:00

Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not absence of fear. Except a creature be part coward it is not a compliment to say it is brave.

~Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar, 1894

2010-08-08T13:25:00.002-05:00

"Organic" food has also changed because the word "organic" is no longer synonymous with locally grown food. In fact, we actually see large corporate farms replacing smaller independently-run farms. California's $400 million organic produce market is now controlled by five massive organic farms, and Horizon Organic controls over 70% of our nation's organic milk market, with over 30% of its milk coming from two factory-style dairy farms with approximately 5000 cows each. This is far from the ideal of supporting small and local farmers.

-from a paper I had to read for my course recently. Hmm..

2010-08-03T18:35:00.000-05:00

I get these awful migraines. Today, I was out with my son buying some groceries and got sick. It's so ugly and just overcomes me. I can't think, and feel like I'm unable to draw a full breath. I have severe visual disturbances that scare me. My arm might go numb. Behind my eyes I feel a terrible sharp pain. Then I get nauseous, so I can't keep medications down. I've tried several different medications over the years and nothing is that helpful. I still have to suffer through hours (usually around 4) of severe pain.

I actually haven't had one in a good number of months. Today a wave of pain hit me out of nowhere and I had to sit down in the middle of a grocery isle and was scared I wouldn't be able to drive my son home. I made it home and my husband immediately had to take over everything so I could go in my room and burrow under pillows. I always try to go to sleep, mostly to escape the pain, but I end up getting too nauseous and have to get up. My doctor has no idea why this happens, especially because it is random. I've had migraines since I was a small girl. I remember coming home from school because of them in elementary school.

I have prayed for the burden of these headaches to be taken away from me before. But today remembered the saint who is honored on July 27th, my husband's birth day. I prayed to Saint Panteleimon, who I recently learned about. I am serious when I say that I was despairing because after almost three hours the skull-splitting pain had not abated, even though I took strong medicines. Labor pains were not as bad as my headaches. Then, I started praying to Saint Panteleimon. I re-read the story of his life aloud and sang the Apolytikion and Kontakion. Beth, my newly seven-year-old daughter, is the best caregiver for the sick in our household, and brought me a small icon of the Theotokos enthroned to hold as well. I pulled up the above picture of the wonder-working icon of Saint Panteleimon on my laptop and sat it next to me.

I was feeling a lot better within minutes.

Apolytikion

Panteleimon, saintly champion and healer,

intercede with our merciful God to grant our souls remission of sins.

Kontakion

O Champion and Martyr of God,

imitating the Merciful and bearing from Him the grace of healing,

cure our spiritual ills by your prayers,

and set free from the temptation of the eternal enemy,

those who ceaselessly cry out, "Save us, O Lord."

I would love it if...

2010-08-01T20:54:00.002-05:00

..you dear Orthodox women (or men!) out there would recommend something new and fun (but inexpensive to make) that is vegan. I've got plenty of soup recipes. I'm good on breads, too. I'm going to try a cheeseless pizza this fast, too. I worked in an Italian restaurant that was pretty traditional and they had several pizzas without cheese or meat.

Thanks to anyone that takes a moment.

paraklesis

2010-07-31T09:02:00.000-05:00

I attended (for twenty minutes or so before the kids shut down--it was nap time and we'd already been to hours) my first paraklesis yesterday. I had no idea what the service entailed, and finally got an answer from my soon-to-be godfather (so pleased!). He is a young priest but already very knowledgeable. His manner in answering my questions about things Orthodox has been the best I've encountered. Just "This is how it is", instead of "Ooh, lookie what I know about this and that and also I could go on about this part and how I piously do it". It's refreshing and helpful, and Father N. has also answered my children's questions and corrected them gently. He came to pray for Elijah when he split his head a week ago, and patiently endured Eli's sucker pieces falling on the epitrachelion. I was a bit embarrassed when Eli conceded, "I don't like that cross," but Father N., simply replied, "I'll wear the other one next time and we will see if you like that one."

I did protest, "Next time?!" because I am not ready for lacerations and blood and staples again yet. I'd rather never do it again. That was the first time I have taken any of my kids to the emergency room...it was not fun.

Back to paraklesis. I have yet to figure out in which way we venerate the larger, prominently placed icon of the Theotokos during Dormition, but that'll come, I suppose, with time. The liturgy is beautiful and I hope to make it through a whole one soon. I was blessed to hear Father N. and his sweet wife Kh. Jeanette singing together.

Kh. Jeanette is due to have her second child within days and I'd apprectiate your prayers for her.

Most Holy Theotokos, save us!

unnatural passions

2010-07-21T20:15:00.002-05:00

I am sitting here beside my young daughter's bed watching her fall asleep. She insists on the comfort of my presence to drift off to sleep. Sometimes I stare at her like this, in love with the delicate flare of her tiny nostrils, and the way her little fingers curl around mine. Other times I am, honestly, just impatient to leave the room and do what I want. Those are the times when I miss the moment's beauty entirely. I deny myself stillness in exchange for hurry. This cycle is vicious, and hard to recognize.

I am thinking now about my passions. I have many, some natural and some unnatural that I constantly come face to face with and battle. It's scary to consider that even something good can become an unnatural passion, corrupted by desires of our flesh. Say, a person is a gifted writer, but that writing becomes self-seeking and proclaims righteousness in self and degrades others by constant criticism. Who is more destructed, the reader or the author? I'd say the author. I have denied my sins and acted horribly enough times that I have started to understand that I am the author of all my miseries. No matter how many times and how brilliantly I condemn and blame others, I gain nothing but arrogance- I mislead myself and while ruling with wild abandon my own passions overtake me and dash me against the backwards stepping stones, which I laid myself through haphazard unwillingness to love.

Where does forgiveness come into battling passions? I heard a homily a few weeks ago and I cannot forget it. It echoes through my day like a haunt. Father said that truly forgiving means asking for forgiveness even when you're not the worst of the conflict, even if you are sure you've done nothing wrong. I'm paraphrasing sadly here, but what he said was the best I've heard on forgiveness thus far. I had the idea that we should always forgive, and ask for forgiveness, but this notion of asking for forgiveness no matter the circumstances is hard to swallow. I think it speaks of that holiness Orthodoxy encourages all of us to seek. This charge is above self, above what basic rights we think we have. I feel that I have a right to my views, to my thoughts, to my own ways of living, when in fact I only have the right to beg forgiveness. No matter what.

I don't know quite what to do with this, but I know it's important.

Back to the research paper, now. Which is quite fun.

Iron and Wine

2010-07-19T00:11:00.001-05:00

New thing I like and will listen to more: Samuel Beam

You will click.

Abortifacient Contraceptives? edited with additional information

2010-07-16T12:08:00.007-05:00

What follows is from a letter I wrote recently:

I have spent a good deal of time going over scientific evidence and opinions from all possible outlooks. I am considering writing a research paper for school on the abortive properties of contraceptives, but I am beginning to see that while sufficient evidence exists to support the belief that oral contraceptives (as well as the "shot" and other hormone suppressive contraceptives) can cause post-fertilization abortion, there are actually enough studies to be found that any work I did might be redundant. These studies are not particularly easy to find, however, and certainly aren't inflencing mainstream practices, sadly.

In general medical definition, which is then passed onto the patient as truth, life is not present (and therefore termination at this point is not seen as abortion) at fertilization, but only after the fertilized egg implants in the uterus and matures enough to be considered "clinical pregnancy". However, from scientific studies as early as the 1800s, the fertilized egg was recognized as a living organism at the single-celled stage of life. Modern vernacular tells women (I have heard it myself from doctors) that pregnancy is not present until the aforementioned "clinical pregnancy" exists.

As a Christian, and even before, I have always believed that life begins at conception. It is my perception that this is the stance of the Orthodox Church as well. If I am correct, then I assume a priest might want to inform his parishioners of what their doctor and media in general will not tell them. Even if a person was Christian and pro-choice (this is impossible, but I am sure it is a viewpoint a few might hold) I think they'd agree that if women have a right to an abortion then they have a right to know when their actions cause an abortion as well. They should be informed of these very real findings about abortifacients.

Here is one article that covers it all, and objectively-with scientific studies considered. It covers what Joe told you about our findings in the manufacturer labeling as well...the thing is that in the patient insert the ovulation suppressant action of the contraceptive is stressed, and the abortifacient properties are either not shown at all, or very slightly observed in a way that keeps the uninformed woman from drawing any conclusions. The percentage of pregnancy listed is also skewed, because often what is listed is only the clinical use findings (based again on the idea that "clinical pregnancy" is the only concern), therefore without any variation by patient or observing more typical use. Think of this: even if most often quoted 1% of 100,000 women conceived while taking the pill, that results in 1,000 terminations of life. The percentages, however, are often out of 100 women, which increases the abortion rate.

It's nice to know that organizations such as Prolife OBGYNS exist. Their own view on contraceptives can be seen here, and two further evidentiary articles are linked.

This, from the APPLOG site, is especially interesting:

"At the same midwinter meeting a draft document entitled BIRTH CONTROL PILLS: CONTRACEPTIVE OR "ABORTIFACIENT? was circulated. While this was advertised as not a project of AAPLOG, eight of the signers were or are members of the board of directors. Near the beginning of their document, the authors state; “We begin with the recognition that within the Christian community there is a point of view which holds that artificial birth control per se is wrong. We would consider this a personal matter of conscience and belief, and this paper is not intended to argue for or against this issue.” While admiring the Christian philosophy of the authors, there is another truth to be considered. There is an unarguable logic connecting the contraceptive act and the abortive act. They are both anti-life. To fully articulate this proposition, the contraceptive action is anti-the-formation of a new life. One does not pop a pill, slip on a condom, take a shot in the buttocks, etc. in preparation for a game of Chinese Checkers. The only logical reason for these actions is to prevent the formation of a new life while positing voluntary coital acts. One might employ condoms in the illusory hope of avoiding sexually transmitted diseases (STD’s), but this is Russian roulette revisited with twice the risk of dying if AIDS is the object of one’s concern. The greatest witness to the logic of this truth is Planned Parenthood (PP). PP has progressed from being the Western world’s number one promoter and provider of contraception to being the number one provider and promoter of induced abortion."

Read the rest here, where the "big lie" is adressed. A must read.

low key

2010-07-13T22:39:00.002-05:00

The past few weeks have been pretty low key. I am moseying along through my classes, the kids are getting ready for a new school year and new experiences, and we're all enduring the mugginess of summer. It was unreasonably hot, but the last few days it's been raining off and on. Thus, the mugginess.

Happenings:

1. My littlest got four more teeth. She endured it well. Those were her last before molars.
2. Elijah is more and more inquisitive, or maybe he is just easier to understand now. He's so much fun.
3. Hanging indentations are silly.
4. I found an old friend from my jiu-jitsu days, and caught up. Fun!
5. I re-read the Protoevangelion of St. James the less. (my patron)
6. We've asked folks to be our sponsors/godparents. (we, being the whole family) Wow.

It's been a long July. A good one, but I feel especially tired. I am ready for the cooler, less demanding touch of fall. October sounds lovely.

oatmeal stout

2010-07-09T13:10:00.002-05:00

My new favorite beer. Available at our local Snucks just shy of the diaper isle, too.

I read up on Samuel Smith's this morning. Quite interesting!

family egoism

2010-07-03T08:52:00.003-05:00

I found this piece while trying to find some instance of the Fathers commenting on patriotism. I don't know who wrote it, no author was given. I especially agree with the parts I highlighted below. The author makes some interesting points.

Family and Society; Patriotism

A strong and healthy family is the first and basic unit of society and of the state. The strongest and most well organized state will come to a condition of decline and disintegration if its family unit falls apart and there are no bases of family life and upbringing. If, on the other hand, the family unit is strong and the upbringing is healthy, then in the event of a major external destruction of the forms of state life, the people remain capable of carrying on life and can re-establish the strength and unity of the state.

A Christian family must not lock itself up within itself or turn itself into a "chicken coop." Such a life is family egoism. A person who lives in it has no interests outside his own family, does not want to know of the joys and sorrows of the surrounding world and does not serve it in any way. Such a life is not a Christian life, and such a family is not a Christian family. A Christian family, as a cell or unit of society, is a part of it which is inseparably united with its whole. It actively participates in the society's life and serves its neighbors.

According to the clear teaching of the Gospel moreover, the living relationship of the Christian must not be locked up within the framework of the national state. Christian love is pan-human. For a Christian, each person, no matter to what nation he may belong, is his neighbor whom he must love according to the commandment of the Savior. We are clearly told this by the parable of the merciful Samaritan, and especially by its categorical conclusion. In this parable, the Savior showed the Pharisee the degree of mercy and love which the good Samaritan bestowed upon the robbed and wounded Jew - a man from a nation inimical to his own. Further He told the Pharisee, "Go and do likewise! Such is the law of Christian love."

But if we Christians are called to such an all-embracing love, then are we not compelled to accept cosmopolitanism - that teaching of the brotherhood of all people, according to which man is a "citizen of the universe," and not of his own state? According to this teaching, mankind must become one family, without any state-national differences and divisions.

We do not doubt that the positive part of cosmopolitanism's teaching approaches close to Christianity. It undoubtedly took its appeals for brotherhood, love and mutual help directly from Christianity. These appeals are purely Christian. It is, however, only these Christian ideas which are of value in cosmopolitanism. Cosmopolitanism has, however, added much distorted falsehood and error to this element of truth. Because of this, its teaching has become narrowly one-sided and artificial, and thus not vital. Such errors include all the tenets of cosmopolitanism which speak against feelings of patriotism and the duty of service to the native land, its good estate and safety.

One can, in fact, observe that the lives of the verbose preachers of cosmopolitanism are dry and incapable of sincere, compassionate relationships. With foam at the mouth they cry about their love for mankind, but cannot love their neighbor as is necessary. Christianity does not teach this false, one-sided cosmopolitanism. Christ commanded us to have, not an artificial "love for mankind," but real love for neighbor. For a Christian, such a neighbor is every person in general (therefore, a Christian must love everyone), and in particular, each person with whom he meets in daily life. Christian life is manifested most of all precisely in these personal encounters, in living mutual intercourse, mutual support and compassion. How distant from this is the one-sided teaching, of cosmopolitanism with its appeals for an artificial "love for mankind;" a love which is removed from the realities of life.

As a child, a person's neighbors, are his parents, brothers, sisters, and other relatives. At this time, it is sufficient if one is a good, loving, responsive and dedicated member of the family. The child does not yet have vital relationships with those outside the family. Gradually growing up through childhood and adolescent years, one develops personal, vital relationships with many other people and they become "one's own." Good upbringing must teach the child to treat these new "neighbors" in a Christian manner - to be friendly, of good will, to have a sincere readiness to help, and to render as much service as possible. As a person matures, his horizons expand and every human being becomes one's "neighbor," no matter to what nation or race they may belong.

Naturally, one will love one's own family and the relatives he grew up with, most of all, and secondly, the whole country, the people to which one belongs. One is tied to this people both by state and civil obligations and by culture and customs. One is bound to one's people, to one's own homeland, and one loves them. This love for homeland is that Christian patriotism which cosmopolitanists so strongly struggle against.

Christian patriotism is, of course, alien to those extremes and errors into which "super-patriots" fall. A Christian patriot, while loving his nation, does not dose his eyes to its inadequacies, but soberly looks at its properties and characteristics. He will never agree with those "patriots" who are inclined to elevate and justify everything native (even national vices and inadequacies). Such "patriots" do not realize that this is not patriotism at all, but puffed-up national pride - that very sin against which Christianity struggles so strongly. No, a true patriot does not dose his eyes to the sins and ills of his people; he sees them, grieves over them, struggles with them and repents before God and other peoples for himself and his nation. In addition, Christian patriotism is completely alien to hatred of other peoples. If I love my own people, then surely I must also love the Chinese, the Turks or any other people. Not to love them would be non-Christian. No, God grant them well-being and every just success.

The most important information which we find on patriotism is in the Holy Scripture. In the Old Testament, all the history of the Jewish people is filled with testimony of how the Jews loved their Zion, their Jerusalem, their temple. This was a model of true patriotism, of love for one's people and its sacred things ... The prophet Moses showed an especially striking example of love for his people. On one occasion, immediately after the concluding of the testament of God, the Israelite people betrayed their God and worshipped a golden calf. Then, the justice of God's Truth was strongly inflamed. Moses began to pray for his people which had sinned. He remained on the mountain for forty days and forty nights in prayer. The Lord told him, "Depart from Me, do not hinder Me, that My justice be kindled on them and destroy them."

The great prophet began to pray even more fervently and finally exclaimed, "Forgive them their sin, and if You will not, then erase me also from Your book of life." And the Lord harkened to Moses. Is this not the highest struggle of self-denying patriotism?

We see a similar example in the New Testament in the life of the great Apostle Paul. No one hindered his work of preaching more wrathfully and stubbornly than did his fellow countrymen. They hated Paul and considered him to be a betrayer of the faith of their fathers. Nevertheless, the Apostle says, "I would be cut off from Christ for the sake of my brethren ... the Israelites." From these words, we see his love for his native people. This love was so great that, like Moses, he was prepared to sacrifice even his personal, eternal salvation for the salvation of his people.

We have an example in the life of the Savior Himself. In the Gospel we read that He came only to His own people and spoke to them first of all. On another occasion, He said, turning to Jerusalem, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which kills the prophets and stones them that are sent unto you; how often would I have gathered your children together, as a hen gathers her brood under her wings."(Lk. 13:34-35). When He rode into Jerusalem to the cries of "Hosanna," when all the people rejoiced, the Savior wept. He did not weep for Himself, but for this, His city, and about the ruin of those who were now crying to Him, "Hosanna!" but in a few days would cry, "Crucify Him!" Thus did He love His own people with a profound and moving love.

The feeling of patriotism, therefore, is not rejected and condemned by Christianity. It does not condemn, despite the false views of cosmopolitanists, the righteousness of the pre-eminent love for one's neighbors. We already know the words of the Apostle, "If anyone does not care for his own, and especially for his own household, he has renounced faith and is worse than an unbeliever... "

Once more we emphasize that such love and care must not be egoistic, self-enclosing love. While caring for those with whom one comes into a direct contact, a Christian must never forget other people in his Christian love - his neighbors, and brothers in Christ. In conclusion, let us cite these words of Apostle Paul (from the Epistle to the Galatians): "So, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those of the household of faith."

2010-07-01T09:23:00.003-05:00

My priest recommend St. Vincent of Lerins Commonitory.

Here is chapter 23.

CHAPTER XXIII

On Development in Religious Knowledge

BUT some one will say, perhaps, Shall there, then, be no progress in Christ's Church? Certainly; all possible progress. For what being is there, so envious of men, so full of hatred to God, who would seek to forbid it? Yet on condition that it be real progress, not alteration of the faith. For progress requires that the subject be enlarged in itself; alteration, that it be transformed into something else. The intelligence, then, the knowledge, the wisdom, as well of individuals as of all, as well of one man as of the whole Church, ought, in the course of ages and centuries, to increase and make much and vigorous progress; but yet only in its own kind; that is to say, in the same doctrine, in the same sense, and in the same meaning.

The growth of religion in the soul must be analogous to the growth of the body, which, though in process of years it is developed and attains its full size, yet remains still the same. There is a wide diference between the flower of youth and the maturity of age; yet they who were once young are still the same now that they have become old, insomuch that though the stature and outward form of the individual are changed, yet his nature is one and the same, his person is one and the same. An infant's limbs are small, a young man's large, yet the infant and the young man are the same. Men when full grown have the same number of joints that they had when children; and if there be any to which maturer age has given birth these were already present in embryo, so that nothing new is produced in them when old which was not already latent in them when children. This, then, is undoubtedly the true and legitimate rule of progress, this the established and most beautiful order of growth, that mature age ever develops in the man those parts and forms which the wisdom of the Creator had already framed beforehand in the infant. Whereas, if the human form were changed into some shape belonging to another kind, or at any rate, if the number of its limbs were increased or diminished, the result would be that the whole body would become either a wreck or a monster, or, at the least, would be impaired and enfeebled.

In like manner, it behoves Christian doctrine to follow the same laws of progress, so as to be consolidated by years, enlarged by time, refined by age, and yet, withal, to continue uncorrupt and unadulterate, complete and perfect in all the measurement of its parts, and, so to speak, in all its proper members and senses, admitting no change, no waste of its distinctive property, no variation in its limits.

For example: Our forefathers in the old time sowed wheat in the Church's field. It would be most unmeet and iniquitous if we, their descendants, instead of the genuine truth of corn, should reap the counterfeit error of tares. This rather should be the result,--there should be no discrepancy between the first and the last. From doctrine which was sown as wheat, we should reap, in the increase, doctrine of the same kind--wheat also; so that when in process of time any of the original seed is developed, and now flourishes under cultivation, no change may ensue in the character of the plant. There may supervene shape, form, variation in outward appearance, but the nature of each kind must remain the same. God forbid that those rose-beds of Catholic interpretation should be converted into thorns and thistles. God forbid that in that spiritual paradise from plants of cinnamon and balsam darnel and wolfsbane should of a sudden shoot forth.

Therefore, whatever has been sown by the fidelity of the Fathers in this husbandry of God's Church, the same ought to be cultivated and taken care of by the industry of their children, the same ought to flourish and ripen, the same ought to advance and go forward to perfection. For it is right that those ancient doctrines of heavenly philosophy should, as time goes on, be cared for, smoothed, polished; but not that they should be changed, not that they should be maimed, not that they should be mutilated. They may receive proof, illustration, definiteness; but they must retain withal their completeness, their integrity, their characteristic properties.

For if once this license of impious fraud be admitted, I dread to say in how great danger religion will be of being utterly destroyed and annihilated. For if any one part of Catholic truth be given up, another, and another, and another will thenceforward be given up as a matter of course, and the several individual portions having been rejected, what will follow in the end but the rejection of the whole? On the other hand, if what is new begins to be mingled with what is old, foreign with domestic, profane with sacred, the custom will of necessity creep on universally, till at last the Church will have nothing left untampered with, nothing unadulterated, nothing sound, nothing pure; but where formerly there was a sanctuary of chaste and undefiled truth, thenceforward there will be a brothel of impious and base errors. May God's mercy avert this wickedness from the minds of his servants; be it rather the frenzy of the ungodly.

But the Church of Christ, the careful and watchful guardian of the doctrines deposited in her charge, never changes anything in them, never diminishes, never adds, does not cut off what is necessary, does not add what is superfluous, does not lose her own, does not appropriate what is another's, but while dealing faithfully and judiciously with ancient doctrine, keeps this one object carefully in view,--if there be anything which antiquity has left shapeless and rudimentary, to fashion and polish it, if anything already reduced to shape and developed, to consolidate and strengthen it, if any already ratified and defined to keep and guard it. Finally, what other object have Councils ever aimed at in their decrees, than to provide that what was before believed in simplicity should in future be believed intelligently, that what was before preached coldly should in future be preached earnestly, that what was before practised negligently should thenceforward be practised with double solicitude? This, I say, is what the Catholic Church, roused by the novelties of heretics, has accomplished by the decrees of her Councils,--this, and nothing else,--she has thenceforward consigned to posterity in writing what she had received from those of olden times only by tradition, comprising a great amount of matter in a few words, and often, for the better understanding, designating an old article of the faith by the characteristic of a new name.

on patriotism

2010-06-29T21:07:00.006-05:00

The 4th of July draws close. I have fond memories of the 4th, and terrible ones. Fond being fireworks and corndogs and parades. Not so fond...my father's memories of his involvement in Korea and Vietnam, especially his disgust with the way he was treated when he returned, wounded, wearing a purple heart, to an angry America that spat on it's veterans and screamed at him that he was a baby killer. He would ignore the memorial aspect of the 4th, mostl. He always lit fireworks with us kids and smiled at our oohs and ahhs watching the sparks and smoke light up the night sky. He also drank heavily then, and cried. My giant of a father, whose hands are so huge I never understood how he managed to make such fine furniture, would cry.

As a child, I didn't understand why Dad wasn't appreciated. I also didn't understand why he was mad and sad about it, though. I thought maybe it was bitternesss brought on by bad memories of war or, perhaps, just bitterness of old age.

Dad was 17 when he enlisted in the Army, following his older brothers and escaping an abusive, alcoholic father. He met up with his older brother just before he was deployed, and heard stories of Agent Orange falling from the skies on the soldiers. Dad was wounded by shrapnel in his shoulder, and then later in his stomach. He came home with his arm in a sling and his stomach wrapped. His own father told him to get out of his house when he went home. His mother said nothing. He had no place to go. He stayed at halfway houses and lived with his older brother for a short time. He took up drinking, and lived with constant pain and flash-backs. Everywhere he went, his service and subsequent heath and emotional/mental problems were mocked. He skipped from job to job, hating authority and enduring his troubles largely alone.

Imagine coming back from war in your early twenties, sporting a medal and wound, and being completely rejected by your country men. I have heard so many people say that enlisted men and women are tools of the government. Sadly, many are. However, that doesn't make patriotism a crime and honorable service a selfish endeavor. I have met many men and women who enlisted after being recruited at a young and impressionable age, and who mostly enlisted for the benefits the military offers, but who ended up being deployed-and fought honorably in the tradition of American's armed forces. They ended up trying to do their country a service, and had a fierce passion to bring about some good and benefit to the citizens of their country. I see no shame in that. I hated growing up seeing my father's tears, especially when I realized they were not tears of anger or sadness, but tears of shame.

For those who aren't in the military or never have been, the perspective is different. It's much easier to lump individuals (and each soldier, yes, is a real, live human being) into a group and label them as tools than to recognize that we live in a country that devalues the persons that choose military service in an extreme and ugly way. There is a major problem with the "Support the Troops" propagnda, but that is another post altogether that I am not about to make.

Wikipedia statistics:
Some of the United States greatest spending is related to the Armed Forces. As of December 31, 2009 1,421,668 people are on active duty in the military with an additional 848,000 people in the seven reserve components. It is an all volunteer military, however, conscription can be enacted by the request of the President and the approval of Congress. All males, ages 18 through 25, who are living in the U.S. are required to register with the Selective Service for a potential future draft.

The United States military is the second largest in the world, after the People's Liberation Army of China, and has troops deployed around the globe.

The recruitment of young people is a huge campaign. If you're under 25, and haven't been recruited aggressively, where have you been? I almost enlisted in the Air Force, following my sister. I didn't have college options, and was without support -financial or emotional. It wasn't just a "what do I do now, oh, how about boot camp?" ideal. I did spend three years as a teen taking flying lessons with Young Eagles, and listening to the stories of retired military men who participated in the program. My sister and I were from the middle of nowhere, poorly educated, but bright and wanting to get out in the world and get an education. At airshows we were both introduced to recruiters, who would come up and talk to you and treat you like someone worthy. With our interest in flying, and the constant barrage of recruiters with convincing stories, the Air Force seemed a logical choice. We were naive and not aware that becoming a pilot is extremely rare. My sister enlisted and signed the dotted line before she realized this. She didn't regret it, though. As much as we choose our own paths, she chose hers and endured it.

My dad was proud of her. To me, at 14, watching her graduate boot was amazing. She looked like somebody going somewhere. In my little town, and in the surrounding cities, even back in the early 2000's, unemployment was on the rise. Now, it is roughly 20%. I saw the writing on the wall and was ready to get away. The only thing that stopped me from enlisting at 17 was I wanted to be a photographer, and did not realize how much college tuition costs. Also, I wasn't as outgoing as my sister. I was quieter, more contemplative. At 17, I moved out to my sister's off-base apartment to see what the military life was like.

My sister served six years. When she got out of the military, she could barely get a 9.00 an hour job at a daycare. She eventually went back to working as a civlian on base, unable to find a job off-base.

I met my husband during the time I lived with my sister. He was in the Air Force, and also has served in the Air Force Reserves, and the Navy. When we first married, he was unable to find a job in the civilian world as well. It is very hard, as I have seen firsthand, for a person who enlisted right out of high school to acclimate to civilian life. In the military, your needs are provided for, at least, and you're probably making even a little extra. With our country's budget for the armed forces, life in the military (as long as you have contracted out your body to the war machine) is not bad. What is bad is getting out, and realizing that when you aren't directly serving, and therefore immediately deploy-able to a war zone, the government support you receive is vastly less. Living on base, you don't perhaps realize that your service is insignificant to the civilian population at large, who do not notice you or recognize your worth unless you are saving them or standing between them and danger.

I understand that America is a messed up country. I understand that there are greedy, evil politicians that use the military branches as their war toys. I know war is terrible and a standing military isn't the greatest idea this country ever had. The United States has the largest defense budget in the world. Even the most patriotic veteran would probably admit our country has declared war with bad motives and with bad leadership at times.

Being patriotic doesn't have to mean nationalism. While many see the terms as synonymous, I don't agree. Patriotism comes from the Greek word patris, meaning fatherland. Patriotism is not an American invention, ladies and gentlemen. In ancient times, patriotism consisted of notions concerning language, religious traditions, ethics, law, and devotion to the common good, rather than pure identification with a nation-state. Somehow, this idea has been convoluted and diluted, to mean "I love everything the government of my homeland does, says, feels, and thinks." A lot of the problem is that everything and everyone has a new, fantastic label, and no one calls America their homeland. We, as a culture, do not understand the difference between nationalism and patriotism. Welcome to the west and the 19th century. It's not pretty.

Socrates said that "patriotism does not require one to agree with everything that his country does and would actually promote analytical questioning in a quest to make the country the best it possibly can be." I know looking at the current state of the United States makes any smart citizen suddenly unable to draw breath.

Do any of the negatives negate an individuals personal commitment? Just because a significant portion of today's military enlisted are people willingly serving for awful reasons doesn't mean the ones who hold strongly to old ways instead of irrational ideals should be degraded.

I am damn proud of my Dad. I know he served with pure intentions, and I know his patriotism was one that breathed devotion to humanity and beneficence. He was ruined by his naive intentions. He's in his middle sixties, and still reeling from the effects. He saved lives, and saved women and children, risked his life for a people across the world. He has the scars to prove it.

My husband does not bear outward physical scars. He willingly and passionately served, proud to defend his homeland and in love with the idea of what she was/can be. He served in a new century, one where the patriotic paradox is all too apparent. Every country is fighting for something, and war has changed drastically in the last 200 years. It is not the same animal, in fact, it's more a zombie, plodding forward mercilessly.

In the United States, patriotic history has been criticized for de-emphasizing the post-Colombian depopulation, the Atlantic slave trade, slavery, racial segregation, the population expulsions and the wars of conquest against Native Americans, and etc. Is the individual man supposed to take the blame for the entire civilization and it's downfalls? Those who served deserve to stand up and be thanked. They deserve to be proud that they made a sacrifice of their lives that was not required. Many have done so freely and with honor. Too many have lost their lives entirely.

I am not going to hate the person who holds tenaciously to patriotism. I refuse to categorize them as nationalists and despise them all for idealisms a few hold. When someday one of them defends my life, I'll know that I did not despise them, as much as I did not despise the factory worker, the judge, the waitress, and every other citizen who made their living in the best way they knew how.

I love my fatherland. It is this nation, this America, great and ugly as she may be. I was born here, I live here, and I am raising my children here. I don't wear "I love America" t-shirts, and I don't squeal in delight at the sight of our country's leaders. But I hope. There is no shame in hoping for better times. I hope someday my patriotism will be strengthened by adherence to a native religion, particularly because such a community usually has its holy places inside its fatherland.

Lord, have mercy.

2010-06-29T20:11:00.001-05:00

If you haven't watched Northanger Abbey , do so. It's a lovely way to spend a summer evening. Light, romantic, witty...throw in a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and you're set.

a list of reasons why...

2010-06-28T21:42:00.002-05:00

I am going to start a new post series called, "A List of Reasons Why Going to School Online is Splendid."

Oh, critics, hold your mighty tongues! Before you chastise me for not taking the ordinary college route (traditional brick and mortar campus), please remember the following things: I researched for months the school I chose, I talked to folks at the department of education for the state of TN, and to graduates of the college, and I spoke with potential school systems where I'd likely end up teaching to see if they had any applicants-and if they'd accepted those applicants- from the online school I chose. I called councils on higher education, and checked with NCATE. This is no University of Phoenix, and I didn't make this decision lightly.

Moving on. I will be making short lists, maybe ten to twenty reasons why going to school online is, as I stated, splendid.

List #1
a. I eat popsicles while I watch little classroom sessions. I can also pet the dog, feed the baby, and/or knit. I even arranged flowers in vases while finishing a chapter yesterday.
b. I can take some assessments at home. Today was my first. The school sent me a webcam (built in mic). I set it up, and registered for a web assessor to proctor. I then had to take profile shots, and did some keystroke biometrics. I had to find a quiet corner, and set up the web camera at a 45 degree angle from the computer, so that my face, hands, keyboard and workspace were in view. When you log into the assessment, you are required to terminate all other windows and tabs that are open on your computer. No way to cheat from study notes, there. I was pretty impressed with the system. The proctor watches you take the test, measuring your keystrokes, observing for you to be looking away from the computer without need, and listening for any unusual sounds (which could indicate cheating). Interruptions of any kind result in the termination of the assessment, and you have to reschedule. I thought it was pretty nifty. Most assessments have to be taken at a test site, with a live proctor, but the simple DUH! classes have the option.
c. I can study whenever I want. I have all my learning resources at my fingertips, and there is no set time for my first semesters of classes...I have a completion date for the class but no 11 am to 2pm set time to have to be present. I can choose to watch the live presentation, or watch the recorded presentation later. If I only have time one day to work at 12 am, I can do that.
d. I can have a glass of wine or a beer while working through course work.
e. It isn't bad studying with a toddler beside you. Elijah is three, no longer naps, and comes to watch a presentation with me and then copies my "studying" while his sister is napping. He has a calculator and notebook and pencil to "study his school". I started working through Get Ready For the Code with him (it's a phonics workbook series) a little and sometimes he'll do that. He calls it "his study book". I've wanted to start going through some reading lessons with him but my book was borrowed and is missing so I am going to have to get it from the library.

There you go. Enjoy.

Forgive me.

a stanza or two, on a Friday

2010-06-25T22:28:00.002-05:00

The Sign (translated to English by David Matual)

One, forever one! Though in the sleeping temple
There is a hellish glow in the darkness,
and thunder in the midst of the stillness,--
Though everything round about has fallen,
one banner will not waver,
And the shield will not move from the crumbled wall.

In sleepy horror we came running to the sanctuary,
And our temple was all full of stifling fumes,
Chunks of silver lay scattered about,
And black smoke clung to the tattered carpets.
And only the one sign of the imperishable covenant
Stood as before between heaven and earth,
From heaven the same light illuminated both the Virgin of Nazareth
And the vain poison of the serpent before her.

-Vladimir Solovyov

2010-06-22T17:47:00.000-05:00

Bless My Enemies O Lord
Bp. Nikolai Velimirovich

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Enemies have driven me into your embrace more than friends have.

Friends have bound me to earth, enemies have loosed me from earth and have demolished all my aspirations in the world.

Enemies have made me a stranger in worldly realms and an extraneous inhabitant of the world. Just as a hunted animal finds safer shelter than an unhunted animal does, so have I, persecuted by enemies, found the safest sanctuary, having ensconced myself beneath your tabernacle, where neither friends nor enemies can slay my soul.

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

They, rather than I, have confessed my sins before the world.

They have punished me, whenever I have hesitated to punish myself.

They have tormented me, whenever I have tried to flee torments.

They have scolded me, whenever I have flattered myself.

They have spat upon me, whenever I have filled myself with arrogance.

Bless my enemies, O Lord, Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Whenever I have made myself wise, they have called me foolish.

Whenever I have made myself mighty, they have mocked me as though I were a dwarf.

Whenever I have wanted to lead people, they have shoved me into the background.

Whenever I have rushed to enrich myself, they have prevented me with an iron hand.

Whenever I thought that I would sleep peacefully, they have wakened me from sleep.

Whenever I have tried to build a home for a long and tranquil life, they have demolished it and driven me out.

Truly, enemies have cut me loose from the world and have stretched out my hands to the hem of your garment.

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Bless them and multiply them; multiply them and make them even more bitterly against me:

so that my fleeing to You may have no return;

so that all hope in men may be scattered like cobwebs;

so that absolute serenity may begin to reign in my soul;

so that my heart may become the grave of my two evil twins, arrogance and anger;

so that I might amass all my treasure in heaven;

ah, so that I may for once be freed from self-deception, which has entangled me in the dreadful web of illusory life.

Enemies have taught me to know what hardly anyone knows, that a person has no enemies in the world except himself.

One hates his enemies only when he fails to realize that they are not enemies, but cruel friends.

It is truly difficult for me to say who has done me more good and who has done me more evil in the world: friends or enemies.

Therefore bless, O Lord, both my friends and enemies.

A slave curses enemies, for he does not understand. But a son blesses them, for he understands.

For a son knows that his enemies cannot touch his life.

Therefore he freely steps among them and prays to God for them.-From Prayers by the Lake by Bishop Nikolai Velimirovich, published by the Serbian Orthodox Metropolitanate of New Gracanica, 1999.

a stanza or two, almost on a Friday

2010-06-19T09:22:00.003-05:00

I was overtaken with studying yesterday and didn't get a chance to post a poem. So here it is.

I am fascinated by this poet, Rabindranath Tagore. I have yet to finish reading his biography, and really want to pick up a book of his poems. Maybe I'll ask for one for my upcoming birthday.

I Cast My Net Into The Sea

In the morning I cast my net into the sea.

I dragged up from the dark abyss things of strange aspect and strange beauty -- some shone like a smile, some glistened like tears, and some were flushed like the cheeks of a bride.

When with the day's burden I went home, my love was sitting in the garden idly tearing the leaves of a flower.

I hesitated for a moment, and then placed at her feet all that I had dragged up, and stood silent.

She glanced at them and said, 'What strange things are these? I know not of what use they are!'

I bowed my head in shame and thought, 'I have not fought for these, I did not buy them in the market; they are not fit gifts for her.'

Then the whole night through I flung them one by one into the street.

In the morning travellers came; they picked them up and carried them into far countries.

Rabindranath Tagore

a stanza or two, on a friday

2010-06-11T15:12:00.001-05:00

Beggarly Heart
by Rabindranath Tagore

When the heart is hard and parched up,
come upon me with a shower of mercy.

When grace is lost from life,
come with a burst of song.

When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out from
beyond, come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and rest.

When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner,
break open the door, my king, and come with the ceremony of a king.

When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust, O thou holy one,
thou wakeful, come with thy light and thy thunder.

shaving.

2010-06-10T19:21:00.000-05:00

An interesting article, wonder how much is true.

so...

2010-06-03T15:52:00.003-05:00

I facebook. I do. Mostly posting (obnoxiously, I am sure) about my smarter, better-looking, higher-achieving kids. Now, all my posts about them may be biased, but, well, I fail at being humble in regards to my children. I think they're awesome and I am proud of them and want everyone to know it.

Back to facebook. Everyone lately with any sense has been posting their positions against BP, how horrible BP is and etc. I really think facebook should NEVER be used for the following three things: evangelizing, political posturing, and marital relations. Making everyone look at the pictures of every single cute thing your kid has ever done, ok. Asking for book recommendations, or sharing homeschool finds, ok. But those other three things? That's why facebook is stupid, because every person with an uninformed opinion uses it to try to share their "Jesus is my girlfriend" views, slander Sarah Palin and BP executives alike, or make syrupy-sweet statements about their love interests (usually TMI to the extreme).

However, even though griping about BP on facebook seems a pointless exercise to me, I saw a few recent comments I agreed with. One woman was posting an address, email and phone number of a BP exec for people to write or call in protest. A man responded to her "call to boycott and go to Kroger or Snucks' gas stations instead" by pointing out that the local Memphis refinery supplies BP stations as well as Kroger and the like. He admonished her to be mad about BP's moves all she wanted, but not to encourage people to do something useless.

The next day, people started "liking" a group titled, "Stop the oil spill by stuffing BP executives into the leaking pipe."

Now that's just funny.

a woman's place

2010-05-30T02:28:00.003-05:00

In the Protestant realm, I've always heard women pining away to be the "Proverbs 31 woman". Which many like saying as "Christian wives" but don't really make an effort to become. I love that Orthodoxy doesn't tell us we can't attain holiness. We can attain it, and our struggle is not one of outward appearances only. We fight our own desires and worship sacrifically. The Orthodox woman is struggling just as the man beside her is- learning and seeking holiness is lifelong. There is not some idea of instant perfection in our day to day choices and living when we "choose Christ". Who in honesty would really say they choose Christ always? The awareness of my own love (yes, love, because I choose it all too often over Life) of death is ever more apparent to me. While there is absolutely a lesson to be learned from Proverbs 31, I think adhering to it as my only (or most important) example of how I should react within my marriage would be betraying myself of the many other teachings within the Holy Bible, not to mention those of the Fathers.

One of the things we struggle for is our marriage. We fight against the world and evil that seeks to destroy our union. The Christian family is so important to any life in pursuit of the Truth. Without recognizing that, and fighting for it, we have no sponsorship, we bring no child or person to Christ. Marriage is a first step, then parenthood where we are told to raise our children as God's own. Without Holy Matrimony, there is divorce from all those good things and ways. Again, I do not speak of divorce in the worldy since, but as total separation; disunion: a divorce between thought and action.

I think also of Malachi 2 in regards to marriage. I know it is directly to priests, but in the belief that we are members the royal priesthood, as Orthodox Christians, how it speaks a man must treat the wife of his youth (how many times does the Bible speak of the importance of this particular wife) indirectly makes me think about any marriage, and how any "treachery" is unfaithfulness and creates a divorce within a marriage(not the modern, court room-based kind):

With whom you have dealt treacherously;
Yet she is your companion
And your wife by covenant.
But did He not make them one,
Having a remnant of the Spirit?
And why one?
He seeks godly offspring.
Therefore take heed to your spirit,
And let none deal treacherously with the wife of his youth.
16 “ For the LORD God of Israel says
That He hates divorce,
For it covers one’s garment with violence,”
Says the LORD of hosts.

He made us one, having a remant of the Spirit. Thank God. Thank God for forgiveness and redemption. Without it we'd all be lost.

2010-05-27T08:46:00.002-05:00

The phrase "Proud Mary" reminded John Fogerty of a domestic washerwoman, which is what he started writing the song about. When he wrote the music, the first few chords reminded him of a paddle-wheel going around, and he thought of the Mississippi River. Instead of "Proud Mary" being a clean-up lady, "she" became a boat.

It's a CCR kind of week. I recently went to a clogging class with my daughter and they were clogging to Bad Moon. It was fantastic.

words inside the nimbus

2010-05-20T14:46:00.004-05:00

During a recent inquiers class, I was staring at an icon of Christ (the Pantocrator) while I listened to our priest speak about the Holy Spirit part of the Nicene Creed, and about the filioque. I began to wonder two things: A) why the letters were there, if it was a sort of stance against Arianism, a visible reminder of the humanity and divinity? and B) if icons had always been written including the letters in the nimbus, or if historically the letters were added after the upheavals. Sort of an unimportant thing to be thinking, I suppose, but I tend to get stuck on my curiousities.

In John 8:58 Christ says, "I tell you the truth, before Abraham was born, I AM!"

In the nimbus around the head of Christ, we see the Greek letters spelling the name which God first told to Abraham when asked who He was. "I AM" or "THE EXISTING ONE", even sometimes "THE ONE WHO IS".

There are some very early icons that do not have the letters in the nimbus at all. It seems, from what I can find to reference, that since the iconoclastic upheavals (in essece, the iconoclastic upheavals denied the full humanity and full divinity of Christ) the letters are a very important part of writing an icon of the Christ. With the restoration of iconography the presence of the letters-and also nine lines forming the cross within the halo- appear with more consistancy. They seem as important as the stars of perpetual virginity on the maphorian in the icon of the Mother of God.

These symbols have great theological and doctrinal importance. . Since icons are not written merely for decoration, I'd assume there are certain ways to write icons, and certain things that must be included. I wonder why sometimes "I AM" is omitted. I noticed that IC XC is almost always present (the first and last letters of the name of Christ, in Hebrew I believe).

Does anyone have further knowledge on the subject?

the end?

2010-05-15T20:26:00.001-05:00

I spent the tail end of last week considering a major life choice:

to stop homeschooling. At least for now. The possibility of our kids attending a top-rated county school came up.

We haven't made a complete decision, but with me starting school again, and my husband's hectic work schedule, among many other factors-including financial ones-we are beginning to think it might be best to have the older children go to a local elementary school.

I have gotten a few negative responses from people who barely know our family. I have also gotten many positive encouragements.

With prayer, I am trying to make the best decision for our family. I have the poem below hanging on our living room wall.

God be in my head
and in my understanding.

God be in mine eyes,
and in my looking;

God be in my mouth,
and in my speaking;

God be in my heart,
and in my thinking;

God be at mine end,
and at my departing.