Dear Lord,

Why do I work with people? I find them so incredibly frustrating a vast majority of the time.

• The self-righteousness
• The pettiness
• The patronizing
• The gossiping
• The laziness

I've dealt with all five and more in the past 2.5 hours.

I hope someone surprises me out of my funk by doing something so not able to be described by any of the above this week.

• Do you know what's really expensive? Paper. We go through scads of it at work, what with bulletins, announcements, newsletters, etc etc etc. I had to order some yesterday because the parish administrator is gone. The order was something like $500, and most of that was regular old paper. I'd say maybe $60 was the colorful, fun stuff.
• So, I, of course, think I'm being all coy with this not being publicly pregnant yet gig. And some woman I don't know comes up to me at the gym and says, "You're working out through your pregnancy? That's great." I laughed really loudly because it made me nervous (note: not all my loud laughs are because I'm nervous, but this one definitely was).
• I'm disturbed by our country and the elections. When I heard Palin was the VP candidate for McCain, I thought, "No one's going to fall for that!" I'm beginning to wonder if I gave America too much credit.
• I went to the dentist on Wednesday. We couldn't make my next six month appointment six months out because it would have been a day before my due date. I stared at the hygenist in horror and disbelief.
  

***
Book Update:

I was hoping to reach fifty books for the year. I think I'll just barely do it. What's that, about three a month (for the months I have left, I mean)? Work has basically exploded. A significant number of people seem to have lost their mind/cool/health/live all at the same time. We've done four funerals in the past three weeks, and the list of people in critical pastoral care situations is abnormally high for us. Plus the rector is gone next week on continuing education. I've kept my schedule relatively clear next week, knowing that there will be more than enough to do even if all remains somewhat calm.

• Book #33: The Art of Eating, MFK Fischer. Collection of food writings for early twentieth century important food writer. I loved her recollections of what different meals had meant in her own life in the section "The Gastronomical Me."
• Book #34: Prodigal Summer, Kingsolver. Read it in two days. The story's set in the Appalachians, and the characters are well written.
• Book #35: Garden Spell, Sarah Addison Allen. New author from NC. Again, fiction set in western NC. It was about the relationships of some people around my age, so it was interesting. Not this most thought provoking read in the world, but I enjoyed reading it.
• Lots of pregnancy related stuff: #36: What to Expect When You're Expecting (no), #37: The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy (eh-- some of it liked, some of it was garbage), #38: The Mayo Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy (good).

I eat Lean Cuisine's "spa classics," which claim to have two servings of veggies (because, hey, a girl needs all the help she can get) at least twice a week. In other words, I am no stranger to the processed foodstuffs (shout out to my sister doing the local food thang). This did not prevent me from microwaving today's entree in the box (pause for applause).

This past weekend, I officiated at a wedding of two of the mr's freshmen dormmates. I made the prayerbook language more God-orientated and less Trinity-ish at their request. I'm still pondering how I feel about that.

Book #24: Andrew Jackson: His Life and Times. Two thumbs up, if you like biographies. I find myself increasingly unenthralled with the visual bookshelf on f@ceb00k. It recommends based on what I read, not on what I've said that I've liked that I've read. Grrr. Is goodre@ds actually, well, you know, good (or at least better than visual bookshelf)?

• book #15: Heloise and Abelard: A New Biography. I had it lying around and had never read it.
• I have spring fever, as in, I really want it to be warm again. I want to wear dresses and skirts and to go to the beach on day trips again.

post

• how stale is my blog?
  
• holy week and easter were really pretty good... less tiring, too, i think because i knew what to expect from this community.
  
• i recently returned from a mission trip with the high school students. new orleans is still in pretty bad shape in many parts.
  
• book #13: memoir of a race traitor by mab segrest (organizing against klan/neo-nazi activities in NC in the 80s... interesting for me since i live here)
• book #14: paris: a secret history... for rapidly approaching trip!!! a narrative that speaks of people histories tend to leave out (lower classes, thieves, prostitutes, working peeps, etc. aka anyone not nobility). only makes sense if you have the original framework of history to hang it on. otherwise, hard to make sense of (i was familiar with some time periods and really enjoyed those chapters and was a little more lost in the other ones).
  

another miscellaneous post

• 

• I listened to Jon Krakauer's Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith on the way back from DC. The chapters switch between some contemporary fundamentalist Mormon communities (FLDS) and the history of Mormonism. He notes that any religion can and does breed extremism, and even violence, but looks particularly at what it is about the LDS church that seems to encourage separatism (ah, the dangers of direct revelations from God for those who are mentally ill). The book also made me think about what religious freedom in the US does and does not entail. I'd recommend it (beware the grisly parts).

• The shoes came. I am so in love with them. They are fabulous, funky, and comfortable. I will post a pic soon.
• Turning into annoying married person alert: I meet my brother's new girlfriend, and I want to tell him that I like her and not to mess it up.
• I don't mind working with children and youth. They're great. It's their parents that make me crazy.
• As much as I like preaching, which I do (it's one of my favorite parts of the job), scheduling the deacon, DRE, and a youth preacher so that I'm only preaching one Sunday in March and one in May allows one to get some much needed administrative work done.
  
• Other good part of job: being able to consider community work work time. I'm on a task force to end chronic homelessness in the county. This committee helps me feel less like a cog/less like a pacifier (believe it or not). I'm also getting to learn lots about homelessness in different communities.
  

according to microsoft word...

..."Triduum" is not a word. The suggested changes are atrium, iridium, and tritium.

Nice.

miscellany

book #8: reading challenge

Rowan Williams' Lost Icons: Reflections on Cultural Bereavement. Typical Rowan--very dense. My brain isn't as used to scholarly discourse anymore, being out of school and all. He deconstructs "choice" well, though, and for that, I'm grateful.

***

Last week I felt ready to throw in the towel. I hated my job. I was so frustrated, frustrated by self-centeredness, complacency, unwillingness, my own and everyone else's. This job can feel like such a joke sometime. I was almost in tears most of the week. The wear and tear of the emotional taxation of a job was showing up on my face and my body. Several parishioners took one look at me and told me to take a break. When I didn't, because I couldn't-- a funeral, Ash Wednesday, and Lent were approaching relentlessly-- several days later, a woman whose father I buried forced the phone into my hand and dialed a masseuse's number for me. I asked if she had any openings for Friday afternoon. 2:30. Fine. I hung up. I showed up to my massage on Friday (I haven't had one in about two years) to discover that one of my parishioners had beat me there to pay for it. I was nearly in tears again, this time for a totally different reason.

book #7: reading challenge 2008

This is the book that the interminable movie "The Christmas Story" is based on (I realize that sentence is grammatically bad, but I'm so not in the mood to fix it). The Mr's family loves the movie, and his aunt gave it to me for Christmas. The tone is rather prairie home companion-esque. I need something light to read before I go to sleep, and this was that. Not bad, just not go out and buy this book, unless you happen to love books about the Depression (what is it with me and Depression books lately?). The fact that I knew most of the stories already made the read anticlimactic; I don't feel that way about all stories I already know, but I do this one.

***
Can I tell you how happy I am this day is over? I'm so very happy.

ash wednesday? what?!

i bought plane tickets to go to paris for a week in late april! YES!!

in other news, being awake at 7 a.m. is perfectly fine. officiating and preaching at a 7 a.m. service is not fine, as was evidenced by the massive amount of stumbling over words.

ms rev or not's shrove tuesday planner

8:30 a.m. coffee with the rector. finalized sunday and weekday preaching through the end of may
10:00 a.m. emails re: great litany, premarriage counseling. sunday bulletin proofing
11:00 a.m. nursing home communion
12:00 p.m. finalized funeral homily, checked church set-up
1:00 p.m. funeral and reception for woman with severe alzeheimer's; first funeral homily of someone i didn't sort of kinda know
3:00 p.m. transition to independence subcommittee for task force to end chronic homelessness... realizing i should be on public awareness committee (the op-ed writers)
5:30 p.m. pancake supper/burning of the palms

the acting altar guild head made me get out the phone book and stood beside me while i called a masseuse.

***
re: the dean. being a dean is not a big deal in some ways. it's like being head of the county. i convene people. the fancy title is to make me feel better about the extra work, i suppose.

***
ash wednesday. ash wednesday. ash wednesday. ash wednesday. 4 services. one at 7 a.m. going to bed now.

So I have a wee bit of writer's block.

Last year, I preached an Ash Wednesday sermon that just all came together. I went back and read it, which was a mistake, I might add, and wondered how on earth I wrote it. It worked on a number of levels and was profound and funny and true.

A few years ago, I also did some extensive work with the lectionary text from Genesis assigned for Lent 1. Now that sermon had some good things going for it, but all the time and research and questions I asked about the text are still there, though I have some different ones this time around. I'm preaching then, too (and we have convention this weekend, so I'm trying to get a jumpstart on all this).

I haven't had too many multiple encounters with texts to preach yet; I'm still too new. The next time around has a different feel to it, and, right now, it feels a little off. I'm not quite sure how to work that all out yet.

Is the thrill already gone?

the post with no title

the deluge of food stuffs started yesterday.

to the parishioner who wrote on the tag of the chocolate chip pie: "freezes well": i've eaten two pieces in the past twenty-four hours (it's very, very yummy), so i don't think i'm going to find out how "well" the pie "freezes."

to the parishioner who gave me slice and bake cookies so burnt and thus inedible i had to throw them away: is this a passive aggressive gesture, particularly since last year you gave me burnt chocolate chip cookies?

to the parishioner who gave me a single serving of chex mix: thank you for not giving me too much. i'm being totally and completely serious. i already ate all of it, but it doesn't feel like that big a deal, which is oddly satisfying.

the post about how i feel

in response to ppb's kind comment, asking me how i feel...

• health-wise, i feel better. i think the crud is more or less gone, after almost four days of laying around. still don't know if it was a virus or bacterial and probably never will know. i'm still slightly coughy and sniffly, but i can walk about now, and that's an accomplishment.
  
• i feel like if we have to do another funeral, my head will explode. two funerals in one week, particularly if that week happens to be during advent, is enough.
  
• i feel like the pulpit is getting an awful lot of me lately. advent 3, funeral homily, christmas eve, christmas day, sunday after christmas.
  
• i feel mediocre about my christmas eve sermon draft, and i don't want to preach it. don't worry, katherine, i won't steal yours.
  
• i feel like if my little insomnia spat doesn't end soon... well, something. i don't know.
• i feel pissed off. a couple of months ago, a youth lector changed the pronouns referring to the divine from 'he' to 'she' in the pulpit (after checking with the head lector about five minutes before the service, which to me was inadequate advance notice). she was up again last sunday, and the head lector asked her not to switch the pronouns because "some old women disguised as men" had complained. she no longer wants to read, which i can respect. i received an email from her mother saying she no longer wants to be on the lector list, either, and talking about how the episcopal church is a big tent, but now she's not so sure. this whole situation pisses me off for numerous reasons:
• don't assume, mother, that just because you personally didn't hear me defend your daughter that that means she wasn't defended. i talked with people about the divine feminine after that; i simply didn't pick up the phone to let you know about it every time i did so.
  
• i don't like that it seems that the complainers 'won' and the lector is being censured.
• i'm also not sure that i'm entirely comfortable with her switching the pronouns in a scriptural reading. other places? prayers of the people? fine. but the lector's job is to read the text as given.
  
• 'big tent' doesn't mean that everyone gets what they want publicly all the time. that'd be impossible. the bigger the tent, the more likely we'll have clashes of opinions.
  
• i would have preferred a note from the daughter rather than the mother. also, i think standing in solidarity by yourself is stupid (like people who boycott without being part of an organized boycott... ).
  
• i feel frustrated that you chose to send this email on this week. thanks.
  
• i'm not saying i'm right about any of this; this is just how i feel.
• i feel a little anxious about my mom and sister visiting. this is cleaning and entertaining anxiety, mostly, along with a little family dynamic anxiety. fortunately, the mr. is a huge help. that, and i've secured us several invitations to eat with some fairly low-stress people while they're here, too, to mix it up a little bit.
  

more than you bargained for, more than you need to know, but there it is.

the post about this weekend

this weekend:

• senior voice recital of one of the college students (can't go to all of the recitals, but i go to at least one-- senior is kinda the last chance)
• painted porch swing (one coat primer, two coats exterior white)
• preaching galore: about how questions shape the answers we receive and death (freddie the leaf story for family and children's service)
  
• first fire in the fireplace
• church hosted social gathering for ppl who are the same ethnicity as the refugee family the church is sponsoring. one of the other refugee families was in a car accident on the way home-- car went off the road, the driver overcorrected into oncoming traffic on two lane highway. mother- dead. baby- dead. aunt- dead. father and 3 yr old in critical condition. to come so far to die here.
  

the post about parish ministry

i had one of those days that made me think, wow. my job is really, really weird.

8:30 a.m.: coffee w/ rector; talked about burn-out and thank you notes
9:30 a.m.: breakfast w/ parishioner, mother of two children under the age of 4, former advertising exec at ralph lauren (not rachel green from friends)
10:30 a.m.: emails, phone calls, wrote bulletin/newsletter announcements, wrote letter to judge on behalf of a mother in a custody battle
11:15 a.m.: debriefed w/ youth/young adult minister re: frustrations
12:00 p.m.: conversation w/ lay leader/rector about vestry elections; asked that they consult DRE before trying to cancel any adult education
12:30 p.m.: lunch in DRE's office; talked about Advent/life
1:30 p.m.: impromptu pastoral conversation w/ self-described drunk bipolar cocaine addict lesbian prostitute poet
2:15 p.m.: proofread/edited this sunday's requiem evensong bulletin; phone conversation with musician for said evensong; searched for appropriate nonbiblical reading (decided to choose poem from mary olivier's thirst)
3:30 p.m.: email to engaged couple telling them no, they could not have their deposit back, since they decided to get married elsewhere since the FOB doesn't want a woman officiant
4 p.m.: hospital visit to 11 year old who had emergency appendectomy; confused parking attendant with clergy badge because, and i quote, "you're not a man." <-- i can't make this s**t up.

and yet somehow i feel like i didn't get much done. i think that's the problem with having an amorphous job that doesn't have tangible results most of the time.

the post about clergy conference and books

i just got back from attending the mandatory clergy conference of this diocese. the next youngest woman? 45. and she is leaving. the next youngest after that is 49.

anyhow, monday morning was excellent; a new testament professor came and basically helped us to do a blitz bible study for advent sermon prep. she was great. she seemed so engaged with the text, and i imagine--though i don't know--that it might be partially due to her faith. i miss school.

monday afternoon was free. i spent two hours on the beach, one of those hours in the ocean. and THAT is why you live in the south... still in the atlantic in mid-october. it's unseasonably warm, but we'll breeze right over that. i actually got a slight sunburn on tuesday morning.

i swam alone on tuesday, after the conference was over. we all know that's a big no-no, especially in the ocean. i got all metaphorical thinking about how this time last year i felt like i was swimming alone-- no friends around, etc. etc. more dangerous than the situation itself--most people who swim alone end up coming out of the ocean--was not realizing/appreciating the potential danger of isolation--the consequences of getting sucked into a riptide.

that's too much pontificating pre-coffee.

on a totally unrelated note, i'm completely drooling over several books right now-- a new albert einstein biography, blue like jazz, and margaret atwood's moral disorder. i want them so much i'm actually distracted by it, but i feel guilty about buying stuff sometimes.

the post about the blessing of the stuffed animals

this morning, during preschool chapel, it occurred to me that i can bless stuffed animals without anyone blinking an eye and yet the bishop here does not allow me to bless the relationships of same sex couples in committed relationships.

the post about guilt

well, it's that time of year again, the time when the summer is officially over, school is back in session, and people start coming back to church. at this time, i have to keep reminding myself *not* to say one particular four letter word, one four letter word that is the mack-daddy (are we still saying mack daddy?) of the long list of four letter words that ms. reverend... or not tries not to say and yet invariably says...

y'all, the word is "miss."

surprised? let me back up for a minute here.

i've found that i simply cannot say to a parishioner "i've missed you." when i was a wee ordained lass, and did not have all of 1.1 years of ordained experience under my belt, i would occasionally utter the dreaded three word phrase. now, when i said to a parishioner, "i've missed you," i meant something like this: "hey, it's been awhile since i've seen you. i think you're kinda neat, and i like having you around, so it's good to see you again."

the response i received was, with shockingly little variation, something to this effect: "well, uh, we've been, uh, busy. work has been awful, my parents are sick, the kids have soccer games and swim meets and violin rehearsals during church, and, wouldn't you know, the beloved family gerbil died, too."

from this, i gather what they thought i was trying to say went something like this: "YOU HAVEN'T BEEN IN CHURCH IN WEEKS!!! EXPLAIN YOURSELF, YOU WORTHLESS WORM, OR RISK ETERNAL DAMNATION!"

it makes me sad and actually a little angry that it seems (from my totally unscientific, anecdotal evidence) that the human emotional trump card of guilt is dwarfing all else, including the chance that i actually, in fact, merely missed said person or family, nothing more, nothing less. i like feeling as if i'm able to speak my mind when i want, something which has gotten me into trouble more than once. i've been willing to pay that price because i feel the cost is my authenticity. since i made a conscious decision not to tell parishioners i've missed them, i wonder why i've made an exception.

i think the answer goes a little something like this: i grew up in the south, where guilt, particularly within families, is nothing less than an art form. i don't even know how many times i've been blindsided by guilt, some of it well-deserved, some not at all deserved in any form or fashion. because of the many, many ways and times guilt has been used on me to try and get me to do or not do things, i'm not a big fan of people purposefully trying to make me feel guilty, so i try not to inflict that on others if i can possibly help it.

i suppose, then, there's a certain irony in the fact that i'm employed by an institution that, when it comes down to it, may have not been able to sustain itself without the use of guilt. which makes me wonder: is it okay for me to play the guilt card for greater ends? my knee jerk reaction is to say, "no, of course not; that's an abuse of power and position." to be fair, though, to be the devil's advocate, what am i missing, if anything at all, by trying to give guilt the proverbial heave-ho?