Becoming Something

The Capricious God of Blessings and Curses

Vince sent me this article from Times & Seasons on Spiritual Pickpockets to read and asked me to tell him what I think.  Actually, he asked me what I "reckon".  He likes that word. :-) I had enough thoughts about it that I decided to make a blog post out of it.  (And I've got at least six hours of sleep under my belt this time, so hopefully I won't muddle this too much.)

The article discusses the trend in some branches of Christianity to preach Prosperity Theology, citing Gloria Copeland as saying, "God knows where the money is, and he knows how to get the money to you.”

Kenneth and Gloria Copeland make me want to puke.  Wait-- I need to stop being so subtle and try harder to say exactly what I mean.  I think Kenneth and Gloria Copeland spoon-feed Satan his porridge when they're not busy scamming people.  They are skeevy and evil.  I'm not saying they know they are evil.  They might be just lulled and deceived.

But wait-- what about The Mormons?  Don't they celebrate wealth too and use each other for a dizzying rotation of MLM schemes?  Well, that's what the article discusses.  (There's a difference, however, between what individual members do and what the church teaches.)

And I'd like to point out that this is not a "Mormon" thing.  Again, this mindset is more prevalent in the Utah area.  I am rarely approached to be a part of any MLM company and I'm exactly the kind of person you'd want in your downline. And I have never heard anyone at church cite wealth as a blessing from paying tithing.  I have heard people express gratitude for their basic needs being met when it was a leap of faith to pay tithing.  I suspect most people in our ward credit their well-chosen professional careers for their wealth. (The number of professionals in our ward is insane. I've never seen anything like it.  We could open our own town and be self-sufficent! ;-)

The writer of the article asks, "When was the last time you heard Malachi quoted?"

Prove me now herewith, saith the LORD of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.

Um, years?  Months?  I don't know.  But I've never heard it asserted that this scripture refers to financial blessings.  It could refer to babies, health, friends, all manners of blessings.

The writer says,

"I dispute the notion that God grants such wealth, or that He removes it or prevents one from obtaining it. 

Such a belief, even if privately held, is insidious. It destroys community and eliminates any hope of Zion, resulting in subtle judgements about the worthiness and standing of other members or visitors based on their dress, their car, their home or apartment. Good luck with that Zion concept.

I’m simply not interested in worshiping a God that capriciously grants wealth and comfort to a select few, while allowing pious and worthy people from all over to suffer and die in poverty."

Mmm... the scriptures are rife with stories of God taking away blessings and granting blessings. Job?  He does this when there's unrighteous dominion and he does this for no apparent reason. 

We're also told to ask and we shall receive.  We're told that whatsoever thing we ask, having faith in Christ, if it be God's will, we shall receive it.  We're told in Jacob 2:19:

"And after ye have obtained a hope in Christ ye shall obtain riches, if ye seek them; and ye will seek them for the intent to do good-- to clothe the naked, and to feed the hungry, and to liberate the captive, and administer relief to the sick and the afflicted."

Yes, the Lord blesses people with money.  The prophet, apostles, mission presidents all need to be self-sufficient to receive those callings.  They don't need to be rich but they need to be well enough off that they can retire and devote an indefinite number of years (or the rest of their lives, as is the case for apostles and prophets) to the church.  Because they don't get paid by the church. 

Does this writer really mean to suggest that the Lord didn't bless these people with money?  These men who were foreordained to these callings?

Such a belief does NOT result in judgements of other members by necessity.  How we judge each other is a choice.  It has never, ever occurred to me that people who are less fortunate than I am are so because they're less righteous.  That's absurd.  I doubt this is a prevalent notion.

It's my opinion that this writer has difficulty viewing the plan of salvation outside extremes.  Either God is capricious or he's nonchalant and standoffish.

Overall, the Lord's plan is to let us be, yes.  He gave us free will.  And in that sense he does "step back".  But this concept, while interesting (and thanks for sharing, Rory) is not Mormonism:

"My concept of God, my personal theology, is that he loves us, but he is distant. He gives us room, and he knows/trusts/hopes that we will do that which furthers his plan. Sometimes we won’t. Sometimes things get ugly. But his plan is such that, on the whole and collectively, we step forward more than we step back, and in the process he grows and learns with us and through us."

God is intimately involved in the church which "furthers His plan" and he is intimately involved in our lives.  "He grows and learns with us and through us"?  Mmmm... I'd like to see one scripture that even remotely suggests that God needs us for his growth and learning.  Then contrast those with scriptures about how he's omniscient and omnipotent. 

Sheesh.  I mean, I am far from a scriptorian.  I don't know my scriptures well at all and still I have all sorts of scriptures coming to mind that refute a lot of what this writer asserts.  Only laziness prevents them from citing them.  Basically, a lot of ask and ye shall receive and a lot of stuff about faith.

God can answer prayers everyday about the smallest things if we have faith and if we ask.  I've seen it in my life.  I've seen it in the lives of others.

What seems to be bothering this writer, and Sydney (a new blog commenter), and lots of other people is why some people suffer while other people seem to be so blessed?  There seems to be no rhyme or reason.  The reason for that is because there is no set pattern, there are no consistent direct correlations:

Bad childhood ≠ happy adulthood
Happy childhood ≠ struggles in adulthood
Impatient people ≠ get infertility
Pay tithing ≠ get wealth
Example ≠ example

ANY time we try to get inside the head of God, we are being prideful or we're lacking faith or just wasting our time.  We take a few circumstances and try to interpret them.  When God makes decisions about the blessings he grants or withholds he considers our pre-existent natures before we came to Earth, our families, our friends, our upbringings, the media to which we've been exposed, our health, the food we eat, the people around us and how they will be affected by our circumstances, what goals we have for our futures, what goals he has for our futures, what our future kids and grand kids will need by way of experiences and help, and on and on and when all these major considerations plus the incidentals are combined, he has situations that are as unique as our DNA.  Even when you pit against each other two families who seem to have identical situations, you're so far from the truth that you might as well be a zygote.

So, it's stupid to try to second-guess the will of God and it's childish to conclude, simply because you don't understand God's plan, that he's not intimately involved with a plan.  Just because you don't understand the rules doesn't mean there isn't a game.

As for wealth, it's not always a blessing.  Stingy people will be stingy with or without wealth and generous people will be generous with or without wealth;  they'll just find different ways to be stingy or generous.  So, some people are given money to be a blessing to others and some people are given money to highlight their character.  Having money is not always a blessing for people!  And being poor is not always a curse.

There can be so many reasons for why God would want my life to be the way it is and yours to be the way yours is and for Leona Helmsley (or whatever the name is of that rich woman whom everyone hated) to have the life she had.

If God tried to teach us all through the same circumstances and if 1 + 1 always equaled 2, then we'd stop living by faith and we'd be constantly motivated by rewards because we'd have figured out the pattern and the rules of the game and your decisions would most often be identical to mine because we all like rewards, and then our world would be totally boring and everyone would be rich and we wouldn't learn as much.

Both the intervention of God and the lack of intervention by God are ways in which God is intimately involved in our lives.  There are reasons for everything and we need to have enough faith to stop being preoccupied with the reasons.  They always come in good time.

That's about all I have to say about that.  This was probably a carpy, disorganised blog post.  Sorry. I just don't have time to fuss over it. I'm not even re-reading what I've written, which will probably bite me in the butt, and you'll say in comments, "I think you were wrong when you said this." and I'll be all, "SIGHHHH. Not what I meant." and you'll be all, "Well, then maybe you should proofread then", and I'll be all manifesto-like, "Ya, I'm going to proofread everything I write at least three times from now until eternity!"  And then I won't.  And then we'll repeat this conversation.

;-p

Daily Gratitudes

1. Jude and I had some nice moments alone this morning listening to some ironic and satirical songs I downloaded.
2. My hips didn't hurt so much today after walking the dog as they did on Sunday.
3. Katie sent me the loveliest email.  She's such a blessing and has taught me so much.  I love her guts.
4. Veronica agreed to watch the kids for the day and I know they will love her and she'll be so enthusiastic.  I love her energy.
5. Jude is not stressed about having to make all the meals while I'm gone.  I feel bad about it.  I wanted to make and freeze stuff but neither of us could think of anything I could make that the kids would eat.

NOT Daily Gratitude

1. Speaking of God and curses, I just got my period. A week early.  Right before my trip to London.  God is definitely NOT a woman.

The Whose Life Sucks More Game

A friend wrote me privately after my last post to point out that some families have hidden struggles and that having siblings basically isn't all its cracked up to be.  She pointed out that she and her brother are somewhat estranged at the moment and I'm sure that's very hurtful for her.

I'd hate to think that anyone might read my bemoaning and be annoyed or offended because I didn't outright acknowledge that most relationships are work and that if you DO have troubles in your family, the more members you have, the more headaches.  I'd hate to think that anyone thought I was implying that my life is just automatically so much harder than theirs just because they have extended family and I don't.

Comparing can be hurtful.  But I didn't mean to make direct comparisons.

I did not mean to suggest that my friends the Days have had an easier, better life or that I want their exact life or anyone else's.  They were merely a symbol of the actual thing I wish I had.  

As for what I directly envy, it's the appearance of good relationships with siblings and the patience and ability to have a large family.  It's pretty much just a fact that Sister Day has more patience than me.

Does that mean I think she's a better person than me and has a better life overall? NOOOOOO. I swear I don't make such broad comparisons. What I didn't include was my comment to Jude on the way home that even though she is who I thought I would be, I really like who I am.  I mourn a little the vision I had for my life but I think I'm pretty great.  And so is my life.  Not perfect,  but definitely worth celebrating.

Everyone has hardships of some kind.  Most people have one or two bad relationships in their family or they've had friendships that were toxic and damaged them.  And there's no ranking system for Whose Life Sucks More.  I know that.

EVERYONE has to work on their relationships.  Any relationship that is deep and meaningful has the potential to wound when difficulties arise.  That doesn't mean they aren't worth having.  Just because you don't always get along with your siblings, just because they hurt you, doesn't mean you aren't fantastically blessed to have them.  They're better than nothing, most of the time.  Feeling almost totally alone in the world aside from a few friends scattered about the globe is not awesome. 

And yes, that's a comparison but not a sweeping generalisation about who has life harder.  I think I can safely say without offending anyone that having a decent relationship with siblings is better than no relationship with siblings.

I know I have blessings that other people don't have.  This same friend pointed out to me before that I get to have daughters and get to be pretty.  Yes, daughters are wonderful and I'm eternally grateful and while I'm not ugly and that's great, it's not like I turn heads or anything.  So much is just opinion and perception.  Who can say who has life better off?  Certainly not me.   I believe in letting people mourn their own disappointments without pointing out or insinuating why they don't have the right to their mourning or why they should suck it up already.

I would never, ever, mean to compare my hardships with anyone else's. 

I have no idea if I'm making sense.  I'm sorry if I didn't before. ?  If I expected anyone to assume too much about how I feel and think?  Bad writing, not bad thinking.  I'm soooo crazy tired that I should not be letting myself be online, really.  I read an article once about how being sleep deprived is the equivalent to being drunk.  So, take into consideration with this morning's post and this clarification that I'm TOTALLY SLEEP-DRUNK.

You'll enjoy reading this, I think, because it's loose and casual and fun

[Blogger's note:  I don't usually have such stream-of-consciousness blog posts like this, especially not journal-y ones but I think you'll enjoy the break of pace and I found it enjoyable to write.]

We went to Edmonton to get me a passport.  Unlike what everyone told me, it was a brief wait made enjoyable by conversations with strangers, and I'll be able to pick up my passport in a few days before I fly out.  Everything has been working so smoothly for me lately.  Well, aside from my day of parenting hell a couple of posts ago.  Aside from THAT.  It's like I have awesome karma and the power to make things BE.  Even with my birth certificate.  I couldn't find it anywhere and had to order a new one.  I ordered it from Ontario with a guaranteed five day delivery.  Got here the next day!  AWESOME.  (Oh.  Some of you don't know.  I'm going to Wales to see My Burtons and to get a much-needed break from me and my life, to gain some perspective and come back ready to tackle this Becoming Something with a little more commitment.)

Anyway.

We ate at The High Level Diner, a fabulous tiny spot that always has a wait time.  The food is healthy and gourmet and inexpensive averagely-priced and there's a lot of original art on the walls for sale.  I had basil, pecan, and goat cheese stuffed sole with a lemon butter sauce and it was divine.  Maybe I'll make it in Wales.

Daisy, our gorgeous 6-year-old was really hungry and she had turned on her Child Fabulous personality that we haven't seen in a while.  She can be extravagantly dynamic and enjoyable such that it's impossible to not imagine every single person ever of All Ever falling in love with her.  Unfortunately, you can imagine how far the opposite end of the spectrum goes.  Woe to the man who marries her.

So, she was laughing and grinning up to her temples and telling Jude that she was going to eat him and just being terribly silly.

"I'm so hungry I could eat a ton of people.  I would eat all the people in France and all the people in China.  And then I'd be so fat that I'd have a biiiig burp.  And they'd all come out with slobber all over them and in pieces." 

And then she laughed somewhat maniacally.

Maybe that doesn't sound as funny and charming to you as it was to me but keep in mind she has been a nightmare for months.  It was like coming out of solitary confinement in Croatia, for me to see her this silly and fun.

It's been nice for Jude to have every August Friday off. Genius, really.  Every week should be a four day work week.  I might be able to do right by Michael Jackson and heal the world and make it a better place if only there were more four day work weeks.

We drove home listening to some soothing French singing and climbed into bed and napped.  I woke up in that really groggy state where it's kind of unpleasant but also kind of fantastic?  And we had a simple supper-- actually, wait.  I only had blueberries because I ate a wheelbarrow's worth of food at lunch (like, EVERYBODY'S leftovers) and Jude made the kids something and I don't even know what because I didn't leave the sofa.  It was awesome.  So, I actually have no idea how "simple" it was.

Then I tucked the kids into our bed for their Friday Night Sleepover tradition where we let them sleep in our bed until it is time for us to climb in and then we put them all back in their bed.  I'm such the slacker.  That's like, our only tradition.  And it's great because it means I only have to go to one bedroom, they all say their prayers, and that's it.  It's like, a tradition where I don't have to DO anything.  I should be marketing this brilliance of mine.

So, I come downstairs and Jude has weird look on his face.  And he's watching Oprah.  I know.  FREEEAK!  And it's an episode about straight women who have fallen in love with other women-- ahem-- and he's wondering why the recording is protected from deletion on our PVR.  And I honestly have NO idea.  Maybe God recorded it for me and protected it because he knew we would want to watch it.  I have the tv set to automatically record and store up to five Oprah episodes and I haven't even watched Oprah in months.  I haven't watched tv in months.  I swear I've never seen this episode, never mind set it to elite protection status.  So, we're watching this episode together and having a lot of discussion and this woman who was married for 25 years says, "It's not about sexuality; it's about identity."  And that's where we paused it because ohhhh, we completely disagree with that statement.  I think it's the exact opposite.  If sexuality is as fluid as Kinsey asserted-- and I absolutely believe it is, and the expert on the panel says it is more so with women-- then that's not about identity.  Especially as it changes over time, as it has with me.  I range between 2 and 4 on the Kinsey scale so I think my opinion on the matter means uh, volumes to the study of this topic.  Right?  Like, duh.

So, then Jude asks me if I've seen the catalogue he brought home of kid beds.  I must repent for telling him he doesn't get excited about stuff and edit that to read that he doesn't get as excited about stuff as I do.  Because how freakin' adorable is it that he saw this shop that had kid beds in it that had canvas toppers that turned them into castles and play forts and he had to go in and he brought home the catalogue and was all, "Wouldn't it be great to get something like this?" when our kids have perfectly fine beds (Josie's is brand new) and he's not one to want to buy a lot of stuff.  And also, the stuff isn't that impressive.  I see things like this in magazines and online all the time. 

"You're so sheltered", I said.

"Yes, sheltered in my cozy little world of violent, degenerate crime." And he tapped his finger tips together, fiendishly. (He puts people in jail for a living. Sort of.)

Finally, Jude had, well, peed about a minute before I needed to do the same.

"It smells like apple juice in here," I said.

"Well, that's because I've been carefully working on a formula for my urine to have a commercial resale value."

And I laughed and laughed and laughed.

"You're such an easy laugh."

"It's a very happy way to be."

And then I came and wrote all this down.

THE END.

Daily Gratitudes

1. Jude made me a nice cup of fake coffee which I am drinking from the mug I made Louise for her birthday.
2. The mug I made Louise turned out really well.  I impress myself occasionally.  Okay, so all the time.  But it never gets old.
3. I've had this weird, nice feeling of peace all day.  I'm very calm and lack ambition and don't even feel bad about it.
4. I love the built-in book shelves in my living room.
5. I'm going to LONDON, baby!  Now, tell me:  What should I say to Jude Law when I bump into him?  I'm probably not going to have enough time to have him fall in love with me as per #67 on my life to-do list on the right there, but I'll need to have something unstupid to say.  Seriously, I seem to be attracting to me all sorts of good things right now.  I've been predicting stuff that has come true.  I'm like, tuned in to things.  So, I would not be the least bit surprised if I bump into Jude Law.  I don't REALLY think it will happen but it's good to be prepared.  So, what the heck do I say as a conversation starter? :-)

My shopping suggestions for earnest apparel

Been feeling pretty bleak lately.  Like, for the past... two years?  No, I'm kidding.  Just for the past month. Ish.  I purchased these t-shirts on Etsy when I was feeling bleak and I'm wearing the purple one now and it may sound stupid but the reminder that this mantra on a t-shirt provides helps me.  (Awkward sentence alert.  Don't expect me to care.)

As JQ said to me, they're very "earnest".  Well, yes.  So am I.

So, I wanted to show you my new earnest tees.  (Bad quality photos and in "mirror" because my PhotoBooth program on the Mac flips images and I don't yet know how to flip them back. So, I chose this special mirror option. And I'm too lazy to take photos with a camera.)

Don't Give Up shirt

Keep Calm and Carry On shirt

 

And I just like this XX chromosome shirt. 

 

The neck thing is a Necklush and it's best worn like so:

 

Here's what else I can do with my "mirror" option in PhotoBooth:

 

If that's not sexy, I don't know what you people want from me.  I mean, look how thin I look!

Daily Gratitudes

1. My replacement birth certificate arrived in only one day! Was going to take up to five days. I could potentially get my passport tomorrow. 
2. Jude came home briefly for lunch and is going to bring home a Booster Juice again for me.
3. Sushi for lunch.
4. @badbanana cheers me up.  He's aggressively witty. 
5. Oooh! Literally RIGHT NOW my package just arrived from my Burtons in Wales! Wheeee!

The freaks your mother warned you about: Bizarre Google searches

These are the bizarre Google searches that have brought people to my blog.  I didn't include the really offensive ones. 

"live in chastity belt married"  -- You might wonder why someone needs a chastity belt when they're  married.  Like, maybe if you're not ready for sex, don't get married.  Because to marry someone and then never have sex with them really defines the word "tease".  But after seeing so many people finding my blog after searching for chastity belts, I clued in that some people just have a chastity belt fetish.  (Where did I write about chastity belts?  The blog post where I got my braces off is called "Braces: the chastity belt for your mouth".  Also, a ton of people search for info on braces.)

"make your own chastity belt" -- Just don't.

"chastity belt crazy glue" -- Oh, poor girl.

"what happens when you eat sitting down" --  I'm going to say that the food goes down your esophagus, into your stomach, then on to your small intestine, then your large intestine and then out your bum.  But what do I know?  Everything I know I learned from The Magic School Bus.

"babysiter [sic] sleeping naked" -- Babysitters are not supposed to be sleeping OR naked, unless you live in a nudist colony.  If you come home and your babysitter is sleeping naked?  She's probably coming on to you.

"bad things about Mormons" -- FREAK ALERT! There are no bad things about Mormons. We're perfect.

"big fish lyrics you've got to move along I believe in something beautiful to see move a long [sic]" -- It's GREAT BIG SEA, not "big fish". *eyeroll*

"sociopathism" -- You mean SOCIOPATHY?

"eating cod sperm" -- That's real.  People do that.  I wrote a post about it somewhere. I saw it on that gross jobs tv show.

"'heard moaning' sex" -- Well, that can happen.

"pee + straitjacket" -- If you're in a straitjacket, peeing should be the least of your concerns.

"about salmon angel hair straighteners" -- WTH?!

"chastity devices for gay boys" -- Just tell them God hates them.  I hear that works.

"chloroform book stalkers" -- If I ever have a band, I'm naming it this. Obviously.

"cockroachers [sic] worms bugs sex" -- Sounds like a good time.  (Call me.)

"do china people throw the baby girls in the park" -- You mean CHINESE people?  That's what people who live in China are called.  And oh gosh I hope not.

"do cockroaches eat eyebrows" -- COCKROACHES EAT ANYTHING.  They are Satan's minions.  They never die.  They will eat your eyebrows but who cares because, dude, they're just on their way to your EYEBALLS.  Sweet dreams.

"do female mormons get their virginity checked before marriage in temples" -- FREAKIN' BAPTIST ANTI-MORMON VIDEOS!  First of all, that's so offensive.  You don't have to be a virgin to get married in the temple.  Duh.  Secondly, YOU CAN'T TELL IF SOMEONE'S A VIRGIN EVEN BY A VAGINAL EXAM.  *bangs head on table repeatedly*

"do people eat cod sperm" -- I know.  It's hard to believe, but YES THEY DO.

"do roaches eat toenail clippings" -- THEY EAT EVERYTHING, I TELL YOU!  They are coming for your soul.  Sleep tight.

"dog not eating is something wrong?" -- Um.  YES.

"flimsy straitjacket" -- I know, I have this problem too.  Our dinner guests are always able to get away, despite our best efforts.

"fruitarians are stupid" -- I can't disagree with you.

"from: somethinggirl sex" -- *scoff*  Who?  ME?

"fruit in foreplay" -- You did NOT get this idea from me.  Being covered in sticky fruit juices does not turn me on.  (But if you've got worms, cockroaches, and bugs, call me. *wink*)

"genitals" -- I'll play your little game:  Livers.  Elbows.  Belly buttons.  Gall bladders.

"girlfriend peeing on camping trip" -- Ya, I don't let my girlfriend do that.  Straitjacket time.

"help I'm living with Mormons!" -- Run away quickly before they are nice to you!

"how big is cod's sperm" -- Why? Hungry?

"hot air balloon door knobs" -- Another great band name.

"how can I tell what god wants me to do" -- Oh.  That's easy.  Have you heard of the $1000 miracle?  Give  me $1000 and I'll explain it to you.  

"how do I make my personality" -- One part celebrity worship, one part what everyone else is doing, two parts changing yourself to accommodate different situations, one part join a cult like Mormonism.  Simple. 

"how do i say thank you to someone who thinks i'm pretty" -- You say, "I can tell you think I'm pretty.  Thank you."

"how many times has jude law been married" -- Well, I wouldn't know.  I only joke about fancying him.  I'm not the type to care about celebrities, really.  (Okay, don't tell anyone I know this:  He was married once to Sadie Frost, and they had three kids.  Then they divorced though I think he still has the hots for her, and he was engaged to Sienna Miller, who is very pretty but scrawny as heck, and he cheated on her with the cute nanny that his ex-wife hired to help him with the kids, which was probably sabotage, and since then he's been dating a bunch of women when he's not stalking me and he got some unnamed woman pregnant recently and while John suspected it was me, I'm not at liberty to discuss it.  Also, Jude Law's sister is named Natasha.)

"how to become awesome" -- Just hang out with me a little longer.

"how to freeze boiled cabbage" -- Don't!! Just don't! Boiled cabbage shouldn't even exist in the first place, never mind preserved in a LESS desirable state. Horrifying.

"how to know if my teen is depressed or just grieving" -- Well, if your teen has something to grieve, then s/he's probably grieving and I don't know anyone who is HAPPY while grieving so... does it matter what you call it?? 

"how to look sexy at the gym" -- Olivia Newton John really set the bar, but I would just add holding your mouth in an O shape and saying "ooh" a lot, with every rep.  That's how I lost ten pounds.

"how to pull an invisible string from someone's hand" -- Is this hard?  It's invisible.  You get to make the rules when doing invisible things.

"i want to not poop for a day" -- I'd suggest you stop eating.  Or I hear cheese will do it.  Lots of cheese.

"i'm in love with a mormon" -- I don't blame you.  Happens to me all the time.

"miracle sky fruit" -- Another awesome band name.

"is there any benefit in using preparation h on your belly a few days in a row?" -- Do you often get told you're a giant hemorrhoid?

"is sleeped a real word" -- NO.  Wait-- it depends.  What language? 

"trapped in a chastity belt"  -- It's a chastity belt, idiot. That's the point.

"what does cod sperm taste like" -- Like shame.

"where to buy anniston's dress marley pool" -- You mean the dress that Jennifer Anniston wore in Marley & Me, the movie that was set in the '90's??  Check the Salvation Army.

"oh my goodness david sedaris is gay" -- Shocking, isn't it?  I thought that stopped being trendy last year. Huh.

"was there anything that could have been done to save Natasha?" -- Probably.  But it's too late now. 

Daily Gratitudes

1. I'm kind of depressed, actually.  Hence the above sarcasm.
2. Um...  I haven't been too tired lately.
3. My kids have been pretty happy and summer is almost done.
4. God loves me.
5. So does Jude.  And I don't mind him either.

You morning people have some explaining to do

Six a.m. and I am not a morning person. 

The deal was that if Jude walked Izzy the Dog last night, I would walk her this morning.  "Ya, right. I don't know if you know this but you're not a morning person."

"I know this.  I swear I will walk her tomorrow morning. I will go to bed early tonight. I'm sooo tired."

Well, one thing led to another and we, in bed, eyes shutting, words slurred, realised it was 1:45 a.m.

"You're NOT going to get up in the morning."

"Yes, I will."

Then his brain spasmed in a silent scoff but I could see it.  He wasn't just making efforts at reverse psychology, because we both know I'm not that prideful.  On more than one 6 a.m. occasion I have mumbled, "Ya, you're right. I'm not getting up," and he got up to walk Izzy, as he had fully planned on anyway.

Izzy made some desperate, weird squeaky sound at 6 am and immediately I was up, new jeans on, shirt I slept in, no bra even, out the door.  Because I do feel guilty that Jude has been walking her this early, every morning for months.  And he is tired.  And his biggest fantasy in life right now is to be able to sleep in. 

I do have a heart, Ron Thompson.  I don't know where it is but it sends the occasional postcard. 

So, we're walking along, Izzy super happy and me super not, and the property on which I want to live comes into view.  Its 60's modern house (which I would tear down or renovate... if I were rich) is set back into some trees and high on an embankment with a pond far below.

Between the trees I see that the roof of the house is on fire.  Bright orange flames.  And no one is doing anything. I hear no fire truck sirens and I don't own a cell phone to call 911.  What do I do?

No, wait.  That's the sun.  OH ALL THAT IS HOLY-- that's what the sun looks like at 6 am?!  WHY HAS NO ONE TOLD ME THIS?

Oh, Internet, it was beautiful. A round, neon orange ball, still making its way into our sky, and I could look directly at it without any sizzle of my corneas. The sky was bright blue. Usually when the sky is so bright, the sun is pale and the rays splay out, but here the sun was a perfect orange circle, not at all fuzzy at the edges.  And behind me, not yet kicked out of the sun's domain was the moon, almost full.

The air was crisp and moist and it was just me and Izzy and Jude's iPod.

What divine serendipity expressed itself in the form of the perfect song at the perfect moment? 

Matt Duke's Taxidermy & the Skiffle Explosion, an instrumental work of fairies and children's smiles?

Great Big Sea's Something Beautiful, a song about life's journey, Earth's beauty, and the promise of a better tomorrow?

No.

Justin Timberlake's SexyBack.

The atheists are right. 

Daily Gratitudes

1. Montana and I had a nice time alone together yesterday painting ceramics at a studio, then shopping.  After I tried on about 12 pairs of jeans before settling on one pair I still have to take in from the knee down because they're practically Cher's bell bottoms, Montana said, "I'm going to make a big production out of choosing a back pack so that you can have the fun I'm having right now."  He is so funny.  First he's complaining that I can tell in one second that I hate a pair of jeans and then he's complaining that I'm taking too long.
2. My kids are healthy.
3. I came home to Jude folding a whack of laundry.  He said he washed and dried some of my clothes, "But I put them on delicate.  I considered that you might kill me for wrecking something but I just couldn't stand you not washing your clothes.  It's like when the kitchen island is cluttered for you."  I laughed.  "Why do you care if my clothes are dirty?  I'll wash them when I run out."  "It just drives me crazy! You have clothes everywhere."  And then I tickled his sexy smile dimples. 
4. It's almost 8 am and Jude and Lulu are still sleeping.  Score!
5. Cotton. 
6. Jules commented on SexyBack being on Jude's iPod.  She is right to be surprised.  I have my own playlist on his iPod because mine broke and I'm not buying a new one until that new one can be an iPhone.

Metamorphosis, 29 years

My keeper
frail strength
lasts in a cell memory--
all the inner sanctum promises
her hand clenched on my spine
yanking me up-- violently--
to purpose.

That girl,
my sustenance.

Flaws apparent but
no punishments will be hers.
Lasted her time
then fell away,
then one more radiant
by tiny degrees
pitter-pattered in
as if to say I won't be jarred.

I did not notice, it's true
until she left me.

A life worth living,
they whisper to my weathered skin--
let the blood course, blue royalty
and the breath rise, divine scripture
hair falls roughly tousled 
nails dug in
climbing a ladder to Him
and if I fall
they will catch me,

"Don't make it for nothing,
not when we bled for you
and spilled your tears from our eyes
and fell upon your face with love."

I will grip harder
I've no choice
for they kept my secrets and I swore
to them
brilliance and infinity.

My girls and women who kept me,
who washed my hair clean of pollution--

I am you no more.
Thank you
for my evolution.

How the LDS church treats the glory that is Woman

Okay, so one of many things going on with me right now has to do with an email that an LDS friend sent to me, linking me to an article on the internet that discusses anti-depressant usage in Utah amongst women.  I'm not going to link to the article because it's a veiled attempt to attack the church, which doesn't really become apparent until the bottom third of the article.  Although, I was pretty sure it was carp when I got to this bit:

"Any Mormon reading this report will recognize that virtually all LDS girls are taught from childhood to do all 24 of the following: • be respectfully, politely, humbly and gratefully subservient to Mormon males in personal demeanor, activities, beliefs, plans and thought."

What did I think when I read this?  I thought, WTF?!

I read the article nonetheless because this friend who sent it to me sounded a bit upset and I care about her.  And because it seemed like it was going to be a non-biased report that was going to point out all the reasons why women in Utah are taking waaay more anti-depressants than the rest of the country and the list of explanations would surely include the fact that we Mormons don't self-medicate with alcohol, smokes, drugs, and hither tither sex.

But ya, it didn't do that. 

So, back to this stupid statement about what all LDS girls are taught from childhood. 

I can't really think of one woman off the top of my head who is subservient in ANYTHING, never mind demeanor AND activities AND beliefs AND plans AND thought. (And how vague are those, anyway?)  I'm sure I know a couple of Mormon women who'd fit this description but I just can't think of any and they're probably older than 60. 

Yes, it's true that we Mormon women covenant in the temple to heed the counsel of our husbands AS THEY HEED THE COUNSEL OF THE LORD.  It's purely ceremonial, really, because if these men are obeying the counsel of the Lord, then:

1. It's just like we're obeying the Lord anyway.  If these husbands say things that are contrary to what the church teaches, contrary to what the scriptures say, we're under no obligation to listen. As Brigham Young said, we are not obliged to follow our husbands down to Hell.
2. Husbands and wives are supposed to consult each other and decide things together. Everything.  Parenting, money, career moves... it all needs to be decided together. 
3. We are seen as equal in God's eyes, just with different roles.

Think of that line from My Big Fat Greek Wedding where the matriarch says that while the men may be the heads of the families, the women are the necks and they turn the heads whichever way they want.  THAT IS SO TRUE.

Most Mormon women I know:

• work outside the home full-time, part-time or just here and there. 
• have hobbies that occupy them.  
• are involved in the community-- I know three women in my geographical area who have been on city council
• have university degrees or have completed some college or university schooling.  In fact, I'm one of the few I know who haven't!  Ha!  Never been to college or university.  And look at how awesome and un-subservient I am. 
• do all the family's budgeting and financial management.
• decide most things pertaining to the family and then their husbands agree with them.

WARNING: Ooshy gooshy spiritual labour stream-of-consciousness weirdery

UGGGHHHHARRRRRGGGHHHHMMMMMM.

GROOOOAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNN.

Ya, that didn't make me feel better because I didn't actually do it out loud.  I want to yell and groan and make people in India cover their ears.  I feel like I've been giving birth to myself lately and especially certain days here and there, yesterday being one of them.  And it doesn't help that I just read Dooce's birth story which just made me feel even more labour-y.  And I was actually going to write about home birth and put up photos (but do it in a way you haven't all read before a million times-- hopefully) and now it will look like I'm copying Dooce. GEEZ.

I have so much I want to write about but it's like I am having these spiritual contractions that are making me short of breath.  I said on Twitter yesterday:

 

Except that I couldn't hyperventilate.  I wanted to weep but it was caught in my chest so I thought, No problem. I'll just hyperventilate. And then I'll pass out and drown in the shower and everyone will be like, "See what happens when you write about how you don't want to die?  Quick, no one say bad stuff and toss some salt over your left shoulder!"

But I couldn't hyperventilate either. 

So, later Jude and I went to Home Depot to get some fence post caps and he's being funny and cute and we're talking about what would be our 5 favourite vices if we weren't Mormon, so my mind is off this labour I'm in, and then we're driving home and it just hits me like ARRRRGGGGHHHHHH.  Sorry.  I can't explain it.  I know, some writer, eh?  Okay, I'll try:

I literally felt like I was breathing through contractions.  I wanted to put my head against the dash and just survive like I just survived when I birthed my kids.  But I didn't want to scare Jude.  It was just an intense sadness that caused my mouth to be paralysed.  Usually, I can smile and laugh through my depression.  I cope by distraction.  Music, internet, humour.  <--- My meds.  I am so good at faking it.  I'm good at being cheerful in public when I'm actually depressed.  But this was a different kind of depression.  This was when it gets BAAAAAD. (A lot of vowel and consonant repetition here today.)  Except that it wasn't the typical depression I have where I am just hopeless for no reason whatsoever, where I want to die and if you were to ask me why I would cry, "Why do I have to have a reason to die?!  Please stick a needle in my eye!"  And my kindergarten teacher somewhere in the world would do a little flip over my excellent rhyming.

This was an intense sadness for a reason.  This was spiritual birthing.  I am walking through the valley of the shadow of death and it's hard.  I ache.  I want to cry but I can't.  I vacillate between wanting to just lie in a field for days and wanting to run into the arms of all the people who love me and say, "Fix it! Say, do something to fix this!"

So, I brought Rachel home and went in to see Ron and Pam, some of my favourite people on Earth, not to mention Jupiter and Uranus (heh heh).  And Pam knew I wanted/needed to talk.  Maybe I tipped them off when I told Ron that I almost ran to their house on Sunday to say, "Ahhhhh!  Help!  Fix me!"  (I was a little more specific with him, though.)  So, we talked. 

And let me just say that I have a testimony that God loves me, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.  God let me move here and gave me Ron and Pam.  And that's no freakin' accident.  They are truly some of the best people I've ever known and anyone who has any criticism of them at all has idiot-tendencies. Because when it comes to the things that matter most, Ron and Pam are pretty divine.

After spending some time yesterday talking to two women about welfare and unemployment insurance and accountability and work and forgiveness and love and the Lord's will and on and on... it was like cold water to a parched throat to talk to Ron and Pam and to have them not only GET what I was saying and what I believe but to preach it even better. 

It was a wonderful balm to talk about love when I had spent time earlier talking about stupid condemnation.  Screw condemnation.  Condemnation SUCKS.  I'm so tired of hearing of hearing people condemn other people.  It makes me want to pour through my blog to see how much time I have spent doing that and repent of it for fourteen million hours.  And yes, I realise I just said "idiot-tendencies" but I was exaggerating to make a point.

We talked about the atonement and about judging others and about charity and repentance.  We talked about the disciplinary councils that our church holds for people who've committed big sins and Ron had some perspective, from being on many of those councils himself as a part of high council.  We talked about how the church differs throughout the world and how declarations have changed over the years because of how the church is still run by PEOPLE who filter revelation through their own understanding and styles of communication.

I realised that as generous as I thought God was with us children, as forgiving as I thought (and I already knew my interpretations were more generous than some other Mormons' interpretations) I had no idea how much I was UNDERestimating.  I had no idea how much freedom and love he gives us, how many chances both on earth and after we die.

I felt a deep-souled confirmation that all this love I've been feeling from God as I walk through this valley of the shadow of death (cheery analogy, no?) is really real.  I've had trouble for years feeling and relating to love from God because I've never felt that from a father and I have struggled to trust the love I feel from the people around me.  But lately, I've been feeling it. 

I strongly feel like the more we falter, doubt, and screw up, the MORE God loves us.  God loves SINNERS.  Christ didn't die for the perfect people.  Ya, there are things God hates.  He says that a person would be better to have a millstone tied around his neck and dropped into the sea than to offend a child.  But the reason WHY we do the things we do is more important than WHAT we do.  If you hurt a kid because you have evil in your heart and you wanted to cause them and their parents pain, that's completely different from hurting a child because you reverted to patterns from your childhood where you were hurt in the same ways.

And that's why I'm so glad that I'll be judged by God and not by people.

Um... my point.... 

I'm so emotional right now, inside.  You can't see it on the outside but it's really there.

And I'd love to say more, to explain what the heck I'm really trying to say but I can't because just like I find it impossible to talk when I'm in the middle of childbirth and I need to use telepathy for communication, I can't really talk through this. 

I just feel this angst in my stomach and I've been doing a lot of deep breathing.

I'm not trying to be mysterious.  I just literally don't have words. And yet, I felt a need to write SOMETHING.  And so you have this.

I can't believe you read all this.  You're weird.

Daily Gratitudes

1. Ron and Pam.  Pam and Ron.  No particular order there.
2. The Infinite Atonement by Tad Callister.  I am going to finish it in the next couple of days. Be prepared for a lot of "Oh my heck! Listen to this quote!"
3. Juuuuuuuude.  I wish people knew how special he is.  Ron and Pam know. 
4. We've been having a lot of cool, rainy weather and I love it.  It's perfect for spiritual labour.
5. Revelation.

The day I died was the best day of my life

No, it's not a theme week, here. My friend Louise posted this video and I love it.  I love it because the British accent is so strong and you know how I love my Brits and British culture.  "Chuffed." "Top deck" of the bus. "Hay-ed" instead of "hated".  I love that he mentions Wheetabix.  I love this style of music best of all music, kind of island-beat, and I love how they are enjoying making music together.  I love how he chuckles a bit and smiles when he talks about loving his wife.  I love how they smile at each other and have a relaxed vibe.  The singer seems like a sweet guy who makes the family breakfast like a good man.  And I love that he sings 99 Red Balloons at the end. (Because that song is super awesome.)

And clearly, the moral of the song is to not buy cigarettes and a 6-pack because then you'll be so distracted with your evil purchase that you will not notice oncoming traffic.

Daily Gratitudes?

DON'T EVEN ASK.

I don't want to die on the toilet

I peruse the headlines on CBC.ca, looking for stories that spark a reaction within me so I have something to write for Canada Moms Blog. And usually my thought is, "Man, Canada is so freakin' boring."

This morning my thought was, "How would I want to die?"

There are stories right now about murder, murder-suicide, car accidents, ATV accident, a beheading, and I realized... I'm not putting these on my Favourite Ways to Die list.  Does no one die from a nice restful sleep anymore?

Just in case God is taking notes... just in case he says to people who complain about the way they died, "Well, you didn't put in a special order. How was I to know you didn't want to die on the toilet?" (well, God would never say that because he's omniscient)... just in case, here is how I don't want to die and then how I wouldn't mind dying if I had to die, like if I did not live to see the Second Coming and then get transfigured in the twinkling of an eye or something.

How I don't particularly want to die:

• tied to a stake and then lit on fire
• drowning anywhere but particularly in the bathtub
• suffocating, including being buried alive

(Continue reading by clicking here. Sorry. it's an original Canada Moms Blog post again.)

Daily Gratitudes

1. Jude made me healthy eggs for breakfast, which I didn't eat because I fell right back asleep. Now it's noon and I guess lunch is decided for me.
2. We had a big rain storm last night. I went up to bed after 1am and laid on top of Jude, my head on his chest and listened to his heart beat and the rain and thunder. It was pretty perfect. Except that I was sad.
3. Newfound motivation to cross that life to-do goal of my list of getting into awesome shape before my 30th birthday.
4. Jude left a lovely comment on a friend's blog post that surprised and impressed me. And it made me love him 27% more.
5. I know how to type properly and how to read.

Jude and I-- we tease on a Sunday morning

Me: DON'T tickle me.

Jude: Why not?

Me: Because it's NOT funny.

Jude: Aww, why not?

Me: Because you tickle like 'ARGGGRRRR!' You tickle like a grizzly bear.

Jude: Aw, that hurts! Not like a grizzly bear. More like a gladiator.

* * *

I'm sitting at the dining room table because Jude forced me to by not bringing me breakfast in bed as per our usual and by telling me that he went to the trouble to set the table all nice for me. (Totally forgot it was Fast Sunday. OOOPS.) So, out of the good of my married heart, I went downstairs. I even put clothes on first. I stumble over to the table (not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination) and find that it looks like it always does when we eat-- like, there's plates and forks and stuff to drink-- and the bit of specialness is the ROYAL BLUE tablecloth he bought.

Me: Did you steal the Relief Society's table cloth?  [For readers who don't know, the Relief Society is our church's women's organisation and their "colours" are royal blue and I think gold.]

Jude:  What, you don't like it?

Me:  It's royal blue.

Jude:  I knew you'd say that.

Me:  Well, YA.

Jude:  Why is that a problem?

Me:  Because we don't have a single thing in our house that's royal blue. It doesn't match at all.

Jude:  I knew the first thing you'd say would be that it doesn't match.

Me:  Then, when ever you surprise me with these table cloths you buy, why don't you ever get a nice simple white table cloth?

Jude:  Because they didn't have any.  This was only $1.50!  It's a good deal.

Me:  If I prefer the table underneath to the table cloth, it's not a good deal.

Jude stuck his tongue out me. In his mind. 

(Okay, I have to tell you this. I just wrote "sticked" there and spell check let me know with its red underlining that that was not the right spelling and I couldn't figure it out until I realised it was "stuck".  I HATE THE MORNING.)

I sing a song, not too loudly and look at Jude across from me at the table. He smiles stupidly in that way all women love and that way that all men are good at and I can tell he didn't hear me.

Me:  Name that song.

Jude:  I couldn't hear you over Martha Speaks.

Me:  Ya, I knew you couldn't. I was going to ask if your ears were working.

Jude:  YOU name THIS song and group. "You can call it lack of confidence but to carry on living doesn't make no sense. I can't stand losing you."

Except, Readers, he sang it like Mary Poppins would sing a nursery song.

Me:  It goes like this. [Sang his bit.] I can't, I can't, I can't stand losin', I can't, I can't, I can't stand losin', I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't stand losin' YOU... Can't stand losin' YOU-OU-OU!

Jude:  So, what you're saying is that you're somewhat familiar with it.

Me: [laugh]

Jude: But who sings it?

Me, rolling my eyes:  THE POLICE. As if I don't know a ton of Police songs. Okay, here's my song:  "I don't want... to go to chuuurch. Some folks do. Who knows?"

Jude, looks at me blankly.

Me:  Air Supply. "I don't like... to sleep alooone. Some folks do."  Except I do like to sleep alone. All stretched out... ahhhh.

Jude:  You don't deserve me.

So, a few minutes later, I'm sitting at the table, I guess with a slight smile on my face, and I could see why that would be disturbing to Jude at VERY early o'clock.

Jude:  Why are you smiling?  Are thinking of the blessing that's being married to me?

Me, dryly:  Oh, was I smiling?  THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT.

See why you don't make me get out of bed on a Sunday morning?

Okay, I have to throw my hair into a quick pony tail, put on my standard brown skirt so that I can wear my brown boots, brush my teeth, slap on some foundation and lip gloss, and pretend that I took any care at all in doing it. It's church time, y'all. (I should clarify: The only reason I don't want to go to church this morning is because I'm tired and I have the comfiest bed I've ever slept in.)

Daily Gratitudes

1. Boots are awesome for Sundays at church when you don't want to have a shower and shave your legs.
2. I can look up my Sunday School kids' lesson online when I lose my manual, which is every single week. I have no idea where it is again.
3. John and Louise are sending me a package. Yay!! So excited I can't even tell you. Let's see how good this British chocolate is.
4. Our fence is almost done on one side. Soon we can play soccer/football in the back yard with Izzy the Dog, which is beaucoup de fun.
5. I had a therapeutic, fun, hilarious conversation with Katie last night.

For John (but not about John)

He was sat, stoic.  His mouth wanted to scream, "Why can't there be more mellifluous baroque music in this world?" The onomatopeia in his head pleased him. He belonged with baroque, with Rococo, with the abundance of romance.

A flotilla of ships passed by in the murky water. It had not rained in weeks and weeds were washing up the shore. You'd have to have some big testiCAles to choose a life like that, he mused. He preferred the land.

His life was but a mirage. He was lost, like a broken flange on a lonely pipe in some risqué district of London.

A fly landed on his nose. "La mouche... nous somme même."

And then he died.  He had a brain infection.