Getting By

Today was a hard day. Don't ask me why, I just don't know. Everything was just hard. I spent the day alternating between crying for no good reason, feeling murderously angry at my poor dear husband (who thankfully timed his phone calls so that when we actually spoke I was no longer ax-wielding), snapping at my children for being children, eating weird foods at any time except mealtime, and burying myself under the covers between math and grammar lessons. Around 3 p.m. I realized that what was needed was... chocolate. And a John Cusack double feature: Must Love Dogs, followed by High Fidelity. John Cusack is lovable, and Jack Black is the truest, most believable used-record-store-snob I have ever seen portrayed on film. He makes me laugh out loud.

My normal favorite movie is Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, but that was just a little too much real life for today. I needed fantasy escapist movies, not brutal reminders of the realities of love and life.

Chick flicks and chocolate. I am sure I have undone 3 good solid weeks of dieting and gained back in one day what it took 21 to lose. But some days nothing else will do.

The Travel-Go-Round

Here's a sampling of the hats I've worn this week:

1) Travel agent headset: DH called Sunday night from Costa Rica to beg for help getting home early from his trip with DS. He came down with an ear infection after snorkeling that was so bad his ear canal was completely blocked. And all the resort paramedic (who spoke no English, so it's a good thing DH speaks Espanol!) could do was look at the ear, and say, "Wow!" Gee, that's helpful. I think it's time to come home!

2) Taxi driver's ball cap: After successfully switching DH and DS's flights to one leaving a day early, I had a dilemma: I was already supposed to be picking up his mom, dad, and sister upon THEIR return from a trip, and the pick-up point was in the opposite direction from the airport but at the same time as DH's new flight arrival. Whew. So I enlist my mom to pick them up.

But wait! Dear Sis-in-Law calls and says they missed their flight, and they'll now be arriving at the airport around 7 pm. Why, that's perfect! I'll just get everyone at the same time! I call my mom back and ask her instead to watch my youngers so there'll be room in the car for everyone. No problem. Except... DSIL calls again later, and says they missed THAT flight, and now everyone is arriving back late in the evening and can I come get them around midnight from the original pickup point? Sigh. Of course.

And that's what I do - drop the youngers with mom, go down to the airport, pick up DH and DS, call Pizza Hut on the way home and order dinner, take the suffering DH and DS (who is also coming down with an earache now) home, go back and pick up youngers from Mom's, come home, eat a piece of pizza in random bites as I pass back and forth through the kitchen between the car (unloading) and the bedrooms (putting sick family members to bed). I lie down with DH for a moment to hear about the trip, but he's feeling so bad that he can't really think about much else. Just about the time I think, wow, this pillow sure is comfortable, the phone rings - DSIL and DMIL and DFIL have touched down and the bus is on its way to the pickup point! So, back out to the car.

I arrive at the pickup point about 11:30, maybe 5 minutes before the bus arrives. We load up and I drop DMIL and DFIL off at their house, then swing back by DSIL's house last. But what's that weird noise coming from inside her front door? Yes, folks, it's the BURGLAR ALARM GOING OFF. At midnight. In a single woman's home.

Fortunately, there were no intruders to confront. Unfortunately, the alarm didn't know that. We tried everything to cut the stupid thing off. But then, what else could we do? We had to call DFIL. Poor man. So I sat with DSIL in her very warm house (the phone and the air were both out.) and waited for DFIL. He came BACK out to help, after a long day of missed flights and bus trips. He cut the wires to the stupid alarm thingy that makes noise, and discovered that lightning had taken out the phone, the alarm, and the air. Sigh. Mystery solved. Sis-in-law went home with DFIL to spend the night. I finally went home and went to bed.

And all this was on Monday.

3)The rest of the week I wore a nurse's cap as I shuttled various people to the doctor, the pharmacy, and to bed to recover from earaches. We did school, too, starting Algebra (eeek!) and our new year at Classical. Somehow, along the way, we got laundry done and dinners cooked and teeth brushed and stories read. But now, it is the end of the week, and I am tired.

I think I need a vacation.

But not to Costa Rica.

Battling the Holy Self

For the past few months, when I have some drive time, or can't-fall-asleep time, or in those other little spaces during the day where your mind isn't otherwise occupied, my thoughts have been occupied with what it means to be a Christian. I know this is a question that others have addressed more thoroughly and more eloquently than I ever will. But I also know that it is a question every Christian ponders, in various forms, throughout his or her spiritual journey; it seems to be part of the process, an exercise that either keeps us from straying off the path or helps us get around obstacles or through deep valleys.

This time around, the variation of this question that is haunting me is, How much of my Christianity - my spiritual beliefs and practices - is a true and accurate interpretation of following Jesus, and how much of it is just cultural norms? I've assimilated a lot of evangelical Christian culture through a lifetime of church attendance, Sunday school, youth groups, worship services, choir singing, Focus on the Family, mission-trips, Vacation Bible School (as student and teacher), Christian books, Christian newsletters, Christian music. I've also assimilated, right along with that culture, my American culture of consumption and materialism, worship of youth and beauty, reduction of thought processes to sound bytes, independence and rebellion, rugged individualism. All of that - all of it! - is mixed together like one big soup in my spirit, my soul, my identity. I am a product of my culture, my upbringing, my place in time and space (20th-21st century U.S. of A.).

So, how much of my faith is true faith, and how much is fluff? Or worse, deeply held convictions that are just plain wrong?

I’m wrestling with this issue, then I read an article in the NYTimes (tried to link it, but it's been too long and now you have to pay to read it) about a pastor who had the courage to tell his congregation, Enough. Enough with calling America a “Christian nation” and accepting every American military campaign as God’s will. Here’s a quote:

“When the church wins the culture wars, it inevitably loses,” Mr. Boyd preached. “When it conquers the world, it becomes the world. When you put your trust in the sword, you lose the cross.”

I grew up in the kind of church where American flags were flown and political candidates were endorsed. It never occurred to me to question this, until adulthood. And it makes me wonder what else in the church I grew up with is also way off base.

And then I start reading Eugene Peterson’s Eat This Book. Listen to these quotes:

Our lives, that is, our experience – what we need and want and feel – are important in forming the Christ-life within us. Our lives are, after all, the stuff that is being formed. But they are not the text for directing the formation itself. Spirituality means, among other things, taking ourselves seriously. It means going against the cultural stream in which we are incessantly trivialized to the menial status of producers and performers, constantly depersonalized behind the labels of our degrees or our salaries. (p. 23)

We learn early, with multiple confirmations as we grow older, that we have a say in the formation of our lives and, within certain bounds, the decisive say. If the culture does a thorough job on us – and it turns out to be mighty effective with most of us – we enter adulthood with the working assumption that whatever we need and want and feel forms the divine control center of our lives. (p. 32)

Sorry, I know that’s a lot of quoting – but it’s powerful, isn’t it? Here's one more:

What has become devastatingly clear in our day is that the core reality of the Christian community, the sovereignty of God revealing himself in three persons, is contested and undermined by virtually everything we learn in our schooling, everything presented to us in the media, every social, workplace, and political expectation directed our way as the experts assure us of the sovereignty of self. …We are hardly aware that we have traded in our Holy Bibles for this new text, the Holy Self. (pp. 33-34)

You can see where he’s going with this – that we need a new way of reading the Bible in which we accept its authority as higher than that of our own experience. And I’m feeling like I need to develop a new, sharper sense of discernment that I can turn upon my convictions – all of them – and test whether they come from Scripture or from some other deeply imprinted place from my past. I have a feeling this discernment is not something I can develop on my own, either. It feels like it will have to come from somewhere outside of myself – will have to be a work of the Holy Spirit.

Eat This Baggage

You know what's funny? Last post I said I was going to talk next about the book Eat This Book and also about the cultural baggage of American Christianity. When I wrote this, they seemed like two separate topics in my mind. I hadn't started reading the book yet, but it looked interesting; and the topic of baggage was on my mind because of a NYT article I read (see comments on last post). Yet as I started reading Peterson's book, I realized that these topics are beautifully intertwined.

I'm starting to organize my thoughts on this, but am not finished yet. Stay tuned, there is more to come soon. (And Patty, I've been reading your comments and checking out your links - they are great food for thought. Thank you.)

An Exclusive Blogher Conference in Orlando

This is me, BFF Ruthie, and Cathy, Ruthie's blogging friend in Orlando whose wisdom is also funny (read her here). We had our own little informal blogging conference where Cathy explained to me what RSS feed does (oh! I get it now!) and exhorted me to post more often! (She's right - I've been really lax this summer.) But our blogging conference had no reporters or TV cameras, so it only lasted five minutes. No worries, though - Cathy spent the rest of the time making us laugh, at which she is really good. (Grin.) Visit her blog and read her story of her child and the red flip flops. Then the one down beneath it about her dream. Ha, ha ha ha ha.

DH did a BANG-UP job on his speech in Orlando. I was so proud! He's a born speaker as it is, but I was so proud of him because he never just rests on his natural abilities... he's constantly working to improve, to be more effective, as a communicator. That drive is a quality I have always admired in him.

DS's 13th birthday is only one day away, and he and DH leave on Monday for their big trip. As you can imagine, we will be pretty slammed between now and then. Mostly with laundry. And last minute trips to Target. Travel preparation never happens around here without at least three Target runs (the last one always because you forgot to get something crucial the last two times).

Coming soon, I'm going to talk about a new book I'm reading, Eat This Book by Eugene Peterson. And about some stuff I'm thinking about the cultural baggage of American Christianity (especially here in the South). If you have thoughts about either of these topics, feel free to comment ahead of time - I can always use a little push in getting started.

Summer Ends Soon

DH has a speaking gig this week in Florida, so I tagged along to link up with BFF Ruthie. The plan worked! We got several good hours yesterday and brought our hubbies along for dinner last night. Good food, good conversation... ahhh. This afternoon we're shooting for a little more best-friend time before I have to get ready for adoring wife duty tonight while DH is speaking.

Adoring wife duty is so easy when your DH is so freakin' smart and adorable! He's giving a speech he's totally revamped from its previous version, so we're both a little nervous. But secretly hopeful that this new and improved version will be a smashing success. There's going to be a guy in the audience who's job it is to decide whether to invite DH to a very large speaking gig later in the year, to thousands. No pressure. (Ha!)

When I get home we get a couple more days of freedom before two big events: 1) School starts back; and 2) Eldest Babybird turns 13. Event #2 is being commemorated in a new and different way this year - DH is taking the birthday boy on rite-of-passage trip. We've been talking a lot this year about what we can do to help usher our kids into adulthood, as our culture really has no meaningful rites or rituals that do the job well. So this trip will be a little experiment in the power of one-on-one father-son time focused on imparting to the son what it means to be a man. DH has done some advance planning for the conversations and experiences he wants the trip to include, but I imagine there will also be some of those unplanned adventures that happen on every big event. I can't wait to hear how it goes.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the younger two birds and I will start back to school. I know they're not that thrilled about the prospect, but I'm hoping to ease the transition with a couple of field trips or just plain fun trips. Maybe we'll hit the aquarium or take a trip up to North GA to hear some bluegrass or tube down a river. Haven't decided quite yet.

It's been a good summer. We didn't do the math and grammar I swore we would do, but that turned out to be good for all of us. Mamabird sure is refreshed, and you know what they say - if Mamabird ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.