Some Do-Nots of Dating

1. Do not date where you work (this rule may be relaxed, in special circumstances. But in general, it's not a good idea. If it ends, you still have to work professionally with this person for many years.)

2. Do not date someone who is married. "Separated" is still married. Until they are divorced, they are still married.

3. Do not have sex with them within the first week of dating!

4. Do not 'move in' together after having been dating for less than four months!

5. Do not tell your jealous s.o. about all the people that flirt with you on a regular basis. They will start a fight, and then you'll be left in the middle, crying about how it's not your fault!

6. Do not, after having been told that your s.o. is not invited to a wedding, proceed to include them on the attending response. They were very specifically not invited for a reason.

Ah, coworkers. It'd be entertaining, if it weren't true...

The Fine Art of Shunning

So, I admit that I'm occasionally a blunt person. I can dissemble, it's just that, unless I see the need, I don't. And I know that things don't seem insulting/hurtful/what have you to me, but do to others. The other week, in a discussion with my sister about how she needs to be an adult and discuss a problem that she's having with our mom, rather than throwing screaming fits about it (she's 22, btw), I somehow managed to upset her by bringing up the fact that an adult deals with things in a certain way, meets the requirements of their job, etc. I didn't *mean* it to upset her - in the past she had a problem with oh, getting up in time to go to work. I was using it as an example of how she acted when she was a teen, and how she acts now as an adult. But it upset her, apparently.

Never mind that my talk with her actually worked, and she did sit down and discuss the problem with Mom. But then, the next morning, *I* got told by Mom that I shouldn't bring the work thing up anymore, because it upset BabySis! Which leads to the whole problem of why am I expected to ignore history? What good does that do? Though I did point out that I didn't have any intention of making BabySis feel bad about it. It's just something that exists in the past - I'm not clinging to any sort of negative feelings about it, though apparently BabySis is. Anyway. I said something like, 'I don't get why she's so sensitive about it.' and Dad said, 'It's because other people *have* emotions.' *rolls eyes* Now, it's not that people think I don't have feelings, it's just that...for the most part, they don't impact the things that I say. And I sometimes forget that other people aren't as prone to divorcing how they feel from what they think needs to be said or done. I'm not all that concerned, generally, with holding other peoples' hands to their own detriment. And I keep my own emotions to myself, mostly, because that's where they belong.

Something ugly in the past? I'll drag it out into the light, because I think it's healthier! I get that I don't get why certain subjects are socially taboo to talk about in public, and try to edit myself in that regard, but that's about it.

Anyway! The point of the post is, I realize that I am occasionally perceived as insensitive by other people. (Not to mention odd, and possibly certifiable, but I'm pretty sure they were joking about the men in the white coats...) So, yesterday, I'm sore from exercising, and a coworker comes up to tell me that we're out of 8 1/2 x 11 paper in the closet. I keep an emergency stash under my desk, and pulled a ream out, and tried to hand it to her over my computer monitor. In the mean time, she said something about there only being 11x17 paper in there, to the tune of 8 cartons. I responded, jokingly, that there couldn't be 8 cartons in there, because I only ordered 6. So then she starts to count them on her fingers, rolling her eyes up in that way that denotes imagining the room, and the whole time I'm holding this ream of paper out, and I finally just told her to take the paper. She took it, and I got up to go see if she was right about us being out, because if so, then I needed to find one of the warehouse guys before they left for the day. Well, so I found an almost full carton (someone had stacked an 11x17 carton on it), and sat back down to tell her.

Well! She wouldn't even turn to look at me, but, very nastily, told me that 'she had had enough of me!' 'she was through with me!' and 'shut the hell up!' *rolls eyes* So, whatever. I didn't say anything to her the rest of the day (like, an hour), because I figured that she was clearly having a moment and anything I said would just aggravate her, and that she'd get over it. Apparently, she hasn't, because she's not speaking to me today! All day, nothing! And I really have *no idea* what it is that I did!

So, whatever. You know what the only response to such childishness is?

Niceness and adult behavior. :p

And yet she'll still forward joke emails to me. Confusing person is confusing.

Video: And Now You Can See What A Dork I Am

I knew I'd forget things in the video. Apparently they have two priests at the church, and this time it was the younger one. He's a little less heavy on the incense. :)

Anyhow. Things one must adjust to if going to an Orthodox Church from, well, pretty much anywhere else: When you get there, assuming you get there at the time stated in the bulletin, you will think that you're late. There's a pre-Divine Liturgy service that starts an hour before, called Orthos (or Matins). In my limited understanding, it's the preparation for the Divine Liturgy. So yes, you will be walking in on a service 'in progress'. It's okay. People walk around the church more than anywhere else I've ever been. They are constantly walking up to icons and lighting candles. You just have to get used to it. Also, people come 'late'. No one minds.

Personal stuff. Like I said, everyone was super nice! It was so lovely and warm and happy! One couple brought their baby who was, I'm guessing, maybe a few months old. Towards the end of the service she got fussy and cried a little. There was *no* shushing and dirty looks like 'shuffle the kid out!'. The only comment I heard was, 'Isn't that a lovely sound to hear!' *makes gushy faces*

The service is a mix of Greek and English. The hymns are sung in Greek, but the hymnal has the words in both languages so you can follow along. They also use a book of the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom with English and Greek. As a matter of fact, here's the book:



Anyway. When I say that the service is split, I mean that sometimes it's Greek one sentence and English the next. Like, during the Petitions. One will be in Greek, along with the response, and the next will be in English. And there are some things, like the Creed and the Our Father, which are said twice. Once in Greek and then again in English. But the homily is only in English.

Also, while Communion was going on, I was looking around at the icons, trying to figure out who was who. I figured out most of them, but, here's the awesome surprise:



This is a picture of the iconostasis of the church from their website. From left to right we have, by my figuring, St. Michael the Archangel, the Last Supper, the Virgin Mary and the Child Christ, the Annunciation (on the doors), Christ, St. John the Forerunner, and, in the last icon on the right....*drum roll* St. Raphael the Archangel! My thrill is because *no one* ever uses Raphael! It's always Michael and Gabriel that get the love! And since Raphael is my patron saint...*grin* I was *so happy* to see him up there!

Hmmm...the grandma's, like I said, abducted me and made me go to coffee hour. They even fed me, though I turned down the baklava. They also managed to find out, in about five seconds, that I am neither married nor in a relationship. I have no idea how, or why this was important information. Even though I kept saying, at first, that I was just visiting, and I made a point of explaining that I was neither Greek nor Orthodox, they insisted on referring to me as the 'new parishioner'. So I eventually just gave up and went with it. *shrug* I also have my 'official' table for coffee hour, with them, and must be back next week.

On the non-church related front, I was in the parking lot at the mall around 4:30 this afternoon, talking with a friend of mine after a movie. We could see there was a storm way off in the distance, but it was clear where we were. And then, all of a sudden, there was the electrical poppoppoppop like light bulbs and electronics blowing, and then the freaking *ground* shook as lightning shot over our heads! It set off car alarms, I'm not even kidding. And that's when we decided we were done talking. :)

This is the second time I've been close to a lightning strike. The last time was years ago. I was weeding, and a storm was coming up, but I just wanted to finish what I was doing. So I kept on weeding and weeding until *boom* when the flash and the thunder come at the same time, you're *under* the lightning, boys and girls. It hit in the empty lot across the street, and I *still* felt like I'd stuck my finger in a socket. My hair stood up, I'm not even kidding. And that's when I figured the weeding was done for the moment. :)

'Old Age' and Settling Into My Own Skin

In less than 24 hours, I will be 28.

And I don't care.

I can tell you that, two years ago, around this time, I was panicking. 26! No boyfriend, no husband, no kids! Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I was going to alone *forever*! This was also about the time I was re-finding religion and it all got mixed up together, let me tell you. I was *convinced* that if I found the right faith, if I did the right things, essentially, if I held my mouth right, the sun and the moon and the stars would align and God would finally chuck a husband at me.

Two years later. I'm happier with myself. I'm not perfect, and I by no means have everything figured out. If I ever tell you I do, please feel free to slap me upside the head, repeatedly. And while I do still want to have a husband, and children, it's hardly the driving force in my life. I'm happy by myself - but I'm never alone. I have my family.

I think that people really do need to be settled into themselves before they can contemplate being with someone else. And that comes at different ages and times for different people. Looking back, I know that I was never ready before. Hell, I may not be ready now. But at least I recognize that fact, and it doesn't scare me.

I love where I live. I *love* the state of Florida, and *everything* about it. I love the heat, I love the sun, I love the rain, and the lightning, and the wildlife! I love being able to walk out into my front yard and find snakes and gators! I love living near wildlife preserves and wetlands, and swamps. I love that I can take a weekend down to the Keys, or Miami, or St. Augustine (though technically St. Augustine is up, not down). I like (not love) my job, and the people I work with. For the most part. Do I want to go back to school? Sure. But I have no idea what for, so I won't. It's a waste of money (to me) otherwise. I'm getting healthy. I'm slowly figuring out my faith, but I don't feel rushed about it. Schools out, so I'll start going to the Orthodox church now.

What will be, will be. There is a path, even though I can't see it, or what lies on it. And I'm happy with that. Life'd be boring if I knew what was coming.

And while this may seem a total non sequitur, I've also stopped covering my hair. Just like when I knew that I needed to cover, I now have the same feeling, the same certainty, that I can stop. Maybe I'll have to take it up again at some point. I don't know. I really have nothing to say about it at this point.

Kinder - Catchup Post

I'm still teaching, I just sort of forgot to tell ya'll about it.

So:

1/31 Class - They were *horrible*. We had a full class, plus one (one of the girls brought a friend) and they just would not listen or be still or quiet or behave! It was so bad that, while Debbie had half the class out to the bathrooms and I was trying to move on with what we were doing, I had to have them all put their heads on their tables and be silent. I waited a few minutes and asked them if they thought they could all behave so we could do something, and two of the boys said 'no'. So we continued to sit with out heads down. The next time I asked, those same two boys said 'no', but the rest of the class jumped in and said 'yes'. So I said that everyone who thought they could behave could sit up and participate, and those two boys could keep their heads down. Suddenly, shock of shocks, those two decided they *could* be quiet and participate.

2/7 Class - This week, we only had about half of the class. They were back to normal, a little rambunctious, but so much better. Must have been the full moon or something last week. *rolls eyes* We had them cut out hearts and on one side write 'Jesus Love Me...' and fill in why they think Jesus loves them (something good about themselves) and on the other side write 'I Love Jesus...' and fill in why they love Jesus (most of the answers started with, 'He created...' and inserted whatever the kid likes best) and we hung them up on our cabinet.

Our Gospel reading was...Luke 5: 1-11 (I believe). It was the story of Jesus calling Simon (Peter) and the Thunder Brothers (James and John) (Okay, I just like calling them that, alright?). One of the kids was confused as to how they were going to 'fish for men'. He wanted to know if they were going to start throwing nets on people.... :) I explained that no, Jesus was just talking to them in terms they would understand. Because they'd been fishermen all their lives, He used 'fishy' words to get them to understand what He was asking them to do. Then, one of the boys wanted to know what the difference was between Jews, Catholics, and Christians. First, I explained that Catholics *are* Christians - followers of Christ. Then, I (briefly) explained who the Jews were. And I told them, 'Jesus was a Jew' *dead silence* 'He was?' 'Yes'

We somehow got on to sin, and I was explaining about how people can't go to Heaven with sin still on them, which is why Christ came to us and gave us the Church and the Sacraments, and one of the boys (It's always the boys, have you noticed?) asked, 'what about the people who get stuck on earth as ghosts?' *insert evil laughter here* *cough* So. The last ten minutes of class were all about ghosts. :)

I explained, basically, that we don't know, really, what causes ghosts. Another of the boys explained that 'yes we do, it's when people die and then years later somebody builds a house over their grave and they get disturbed...' and I said, yes, some people think that, but really, pretty much everywhere we walk or build there's likely to be peoples bodies, so that can't be it. I got back to the whole, 'we don't know' and a kid brought up orbs. Well, as I explained, 99% of the time, orbs are dust or bugs that get caught in the camera flare. And the same kid said, 'but this one had a smiley face in it!' So...try to explain matrixing and the minds ability to pick out human features where there are none (in nature). *Anyway*...one of the kids said, 'but it's paranormal!' I said, 'yes, but all paranormal means is that it's 'above normal' it just means that we don't *know* what causes it yet.' and then I told them about how the ancient people thought that when there was an eclipse it was caused by a giant monster in the sky trying to eat the sun. *insert gasps of shock and laughter* I explained, they didn't know better, and they had no way of knowing that the earth was revolving around the sun and the moon was revolving around the earth, and that every so often, they intersected just right, and the sun 'disappeared' temporarily. 'Ooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh' So, just like that, we may, eventually, one day have the ability to understand what causes what we call 'ghosts'. And I explained that sometimes, people just jump to the wrong conclusion, without looking for regular, boring reasons for things happening.

I told the kids that my house has a ghost, but we basically ignore it. I told them that my bedroom door swings shut on its own every so often. And I told them, at first, my family thought it was the ghost. Then, I told them, I figured out that, even though it looks perfectly flat and level, my room is actually just very slightly titled! And it's *just* enough that, if the door isn't pushed back far enough, it starts to slowly swing shut, builds up a little speed, and *bam* slams shut. Nothing paranormal at all. Just gravity. :)

Also, at one point, I had taken two of the kids to the bathroom, and realized that my scarf was slipping. So I whipped it off to fix it there in the hall. The boy came out, glanced at me, bent to drink out of the fountain, and did a double take. 'You *do* have hair!' *lol* 'Yes, I do.' :)

~~~

So, this weekend we're off, and the next weekend I'm going to tell them that I'm out of town, which is (mostly) true. So I'm going to have two weeks 'off'. I plan to go to Holy Trinity this weekend, but I'm not sure about the weekend after that. That'll be Lent, and I don't know if maybe they have 'heavier' services...plus, it's Greek Fest. So...yeah.

“Envy eats nothing but its own heart” - German proverb

"Envy is the art of counting the other fellow's blessings instead of your own." - Harold Coffin

We all want things we don't or can't have. Even if you live a 'plain' life, you'll want things. You'll want a new washing line, a new cow, a new loft in the barn, new shoes, new quilts, new glasses, etc. I don't think that desiring things that we don't have counts as envy. I want lots of things, things that aren't even useful, or needful, but I want them. Why? Oh, many, many reasons. Acquisitiveness, maybe, or my love of them. Sometimes, they're even useful things. (But not all the time, by any stretch of the imagination.) But I can see someone else *with* that thing, and admire it, and think, 'oh, I wish I could afford/find/have room for one of those' *without* considering the person who does have it. They're (most of the time) not a part of the equation to me. I don't feel a pang of anger that *they* have it and *I* don't. I don't wail about the unfairness of the universe, that they should have this thing I so desire, and I can't.

I'm not saying I've *never* envied anyone. I don't recall any times, to be honest, but that doesn't mean that they never happened. I'm just saying I don't make a habit of it.

But I know people who do, and they want others to *know* about this unfair balance in the cosmos, so that the others can commiserate with them, and feel those sick, stabbing pains too.

Let's take the incident this morning. I was talking with a girl in another department about her department head. We were wondering if he was coming in, because his 'deputy' was off today, and no one had seen him. We joked that he was like a little kid saying, 'Mom's not home, so I'll skip school!' and then we moved on. Another woman I work with muttered something about him being a 'rich momma's boy', and 'whining to mommy and getting a new car'. She said that last a couple times, and you can just *feel* the (oh, I'm gonna sound new agey here, but whatever), the negativity, the *sourness* rolling off, in her tone, in her posture. She was *pissed* about this, and, yeah, jealous. Envious. After a few times of her saying it, I finally asked, 'did his mom buy him a new car?' 'YEAH!' 'okay' and I turned back to my work. She finished what she was doing, and went back to her desk, silent. And, seriously, it left me a little nauseous.

I mean, what difference does it make who bought who what? Is being mad about it going to suddenly make a new *yadda* appear for you? Do you think God is going to lean down and go, 'YOU'RE RIGHT, THAT'S NOT FAIR. HERE YOU GO. HAVE ONE. HAVE A DOZEN!' Nope. All that happens is you harbor this black emotion in your heart, deep down, and it poisons you. You focus on all the things you don't have, and how wrong it is that other people (people who don't need/deserve them as much as *you* do) *do* have them. How is that good? How is that constructive? Can't you be happy for the other person? Even if you don't *like* the other person, if you can't be *happy* for them, can't you just be neutral about it?

Getting Healthy = Podvig?

Right, so, first, I can hear you asking, 'What's a 'podvig'?' Well, it's a Russian term that has no direct translation into English. The most common definition I've come across is, simply, 'spiritual struggle' - a means of drawing nearer to Christ as we travel on the path to salvation.

As Anna put it in a recent video, podvig is 'understood as the ascetic struggle. As a path that you take that is almost unique to you. I mean there are certain things that people have done over the ages that are similar but every person- Okay, let's put it like this. Since we view sin, in the Orthodox Church like a terminal illness. Not terminal illness, but an illness, and that one needs Grace to over come it. The means of getting to that Grace is your podvig. It's- It's the specific medication that you need to get better. To overcome sin. So not everyone needs the same medication. The same way of handling their sinful temptations.' (I've transcribed this as best I can.)

So, we all know that I have a weight problem. Yes, I do have a thyroid disorder, but that's not why I weigh too much, or at least it's not the whole, or even *main* issue. The fact of the matter is I love to eat. I eat too much, of things that aren't good for me. I indulge. I *loll* in it. It's not even sugar or candy or things like that. Meat, potatoes, gourmet meals. Mmmm....Food. I love *food*. I love the taste of it, the feel of it, the sensation. I love going out and eating, or staying in and cooking. I love to drink, pretty, sugary, 'girly' drinks, or doing shots to drink the boys under the table (that being said, I haven't had an alcoholic drink in months. My lack of 'portion control' with alcohol is more worrisome to me, so I've stopped all together. Though to be honest, I've 'stopped' before, and slipped back, but never to the degree I did prior to stopping, so it's kind of gone in stages. But I can go out to dinner now and *not* feel like I *have* to get an alcoholic drink. I still *want* to, but I *don't*.). Clearly, I'm a glutton. I mean that's just...that's just clear? Right?

I'm *not* saying that everyone who is overweight is like me, or is offending God, or something. I'm saying, for me, I've finally realized that my weight is because I indulge my every whim when it comes to food. I have trouble going, 'No, I don't need that food, I'm not hungry.' It's a personal issue, got it?

I've started with a personal trainer today. My parents got me, for Christmas, ten 45 minute sessions with her. Along with the exercise she'll be directing what I eat, and how much. I'm determined to *obey* her, no matter how much I don't want to. And I'm thinking, I'm thinking, honestly, that this, this learning and obedience to her is a part of my path, a part of my podvig - to learn to stop giving my flesh whatever it wants, even when it's not good for me.

Gossip

Edit: I realized that I managed to gossip in a post about gossip being bad. *headslap* So, I've removed that part.

Essentially, I've become more aware of the propensity in myself and others to gossip, and it's begun to bother me, which it never has before.

I've been listening to OLiC Archives, specifically a 6-part series on Lent, and the Prayer of St. Ephraim. For those unfamiliar with this prayer, here's the text:

O Lord and Master of my life,
Grant not unto me a spirit of idleness,
of discouragement,
of lust for power,
and of vain speaking.

But bestow upon me, Thy servant,
the spirit of chastity,
of meekness,
of patience,
and of love.

Yea, O Lord and King,
grant that I may perceive
my own transgressions,
and judge not my brother,
for blessed art Thou
unto ages of ages.
Amen.

The hosts are going through the prayer, delineating every vice, and then all of the virtues will follow. Of course, as they go through, they're including *lots* of quotes from the Fathers, which is another reason I wish they were able to have all the production notes up. It'd mean I could find all the quotes they use!

I did, however, find one of them. It's from a longer homily by St. John Chrysostom.

7. Of how many evils are we now full, without being conscious of them? We bite one another, we devour one another, in wronging, accusing, calumniating, being vexed by the credit of our neighbors.

And see the difficulty. When a man wishes to undermine the reputation of a neighbor, he says, 'Such an one said this of him; O God, forgive me, do not examine me strictly, I must give account of what I have heard.' Why then do you speak of it at all, if you dost not believe it? Why do you speak of it? Why do you make it credible by much reporting? Why do you pass on the story which is not true? Thou dost not believe it, and you entreat God not to call you to strict account? Do not say it then, but keep silence, and free yourself from all fear.

But I know not from whence this disease has fallen upon men. We have become tattlers, nothing remains in our mind. Hear the exhortation of a wise man who says, "Have you heard a word? Let it die in you, be bold; it will not burst you." Sirach 19:10 And again, "A fool hears a word, and travails, as a women in labor of a child." Sirach 19:11 We are ready to make accusations, prepared for condemning. Even if no other evil thing had been done by us, this were sufficient to ruin us, and to carry us away to Hell, this involves us in ten thousand evils. And that you may know this certainly, hear what the prophet says, "Thou sat and spoke against your brother." Psalm 50:20

But it is not I, you say, but the other [who told me]. Nay rather, it is yourself; for if thou had not spoken, another would not have heard: or even if he should hear it, yet thou wouldest not have been to blame for the sin. We ought to shade over and conceal the failings of neighbors, but you parade them under a cloak of zeal for goodness. Thou becomest, not an accuser, but a gossip, a trifler, a fool. O what cleverness! Without being aware of it, you bring disgrace upon yourself as well as on him.

And see what great evils which arise from this. You provoke the wrath of God. Do you not hear Paul saying about widows, "they not only" (these are his words) "learn to be idle, but tattlers also and busybodies, wandering about from house to house, and speaking things which they ought not." 1 Timothy 5:13 So that even when you believe the things which are said against your brother, you ought not even in that case to speak of them; much less, when thou dost not believe them.

But thou [forsooth] lookest to your own interest? Thou fearest to be called to account by God? Fear then, lest even for your tattling thou be called to account. For here, you can not say, 'O God, call me not to account for light talking': for the whole matter is light talking. Why did you publish it? Why did you increase the evil? This is sufficient to destroy us. On this account Christ said, "Judge not, that you be not judged." Matthew 7:1

But we pay no regard to this, neither are we brought to our senses by what happened to the Pharisee. He said what was true, "I am not as this Publican" Luke 18:11, he said it too in no man's hearing; yet was he condemned. If he were condemned when he said what was true, and uttered it in no man's hearing, what fearful [punishment] shall not they suffer, who like gossiping women, carry about everywhere lies which they do not even themselves believe? What shall they not endure?

8. Henceforward let us set "a door and a bolt before the mouth." Sirach 28:25 For innumerable evils have arisen from tattling; families have been ruined, friendships torn asunder, innumerable other miseries have happened. Busy not yourself, O man, about the affairs of your neighbor.

But you are talkative and hast a weakness. Talk of your own [faults] to God: thus the weakness will be no longer a weakness, but an advantage. Talk of your own [faults] to your friends, those who are thorough friends and righteous men, and in whom you have confidence, that so they may pray for your sins. If you speak of the [sins] of others, you are nowise profited, neither have you gained anything, but hast ruined yourself. If you confess your own [sins] to the Lord, you have great reward: for one says, "I said, I will confess against myself mine iniquity to the Lord, and Thou forgavest the impiety of my heart." Psalm 32:5

Do you wish to judge? Judge your own [sins]. No one will accuse you, if you condemn yourself: but he will accuse if you do not condemn; he will accuse you, unless thou convict yourself; will accuse you of insensibility. You have seen such an one angry, irritated, doing something else out of place? Think at once, even thou on your own [faults]: and thus you will not greatly condemn him, and wilt free yourself from the load of your past transgressions. If we thus regulate our own conduct, if we thus manage our own life, if we condemn ourselves, we shall probably not commit many sins, and we shall do many good things, being fair and moderate; and shall enjoy all the promises to them that love God: to which may all attain, by the grace and loving kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Ghost, be glory, power, honor, now and for ever and world with end. Amen.

*sigh* As the hosts so often, say, 'ouch'.

I am determined not to be this person anymore.

Last Words

Look, I totally meant to stick with happy posts, I did.





- also, if bad things happening to pregnant women/babies is a trigger for you, DON'T READ THIS - please be responsible with your own issues

A woman whom I know only peripherally died last night. She was in the hospital giving birth to her fifth child.





The doctors think that she had an aneurism that burst. She went into cardiac arrest, fell into a coma, and never came out of it. They're not sure if her baby daughter is going to make it, apparently she wasn't breathing when they did an emergency c-section.





This is tragic, and we're all praying for her and for her children and her husband.





But here's, not the worst, but something that just makes it even worse.





Her oldest son is 18 and in Iraq.





The last words he said to her were, 'I hate you.'





She didn't want him to join the Army and did everything she could to keep him out of it. They never made up, never apologized, nothing. And now he can't. That's it, game over. And he's going to feel guilty for the rest of his life.

B&W, W&O: Temper Tantrums

"However, normal people also exhibit indications that fragmentation exists; it is not merely a problem for the mentally ill. Although generally fairly subtle, this phenomenon is most obvious when someone loses his or her temper, a condition that happens to almost all of us from time to time. On becoming very angry, people often feel a change occurring within themselves, and it is not uncommon for such a person to fell quite different, quite 'other' than his or her normal self. Questioning such a person at that moment is often fruitless, since he or she is not 'present' to be questioned; however, if the situation is discussed later, many will admit to having felt much younger, even like a child during the time they were angry. The person who loses his or her temper actually experiences the world and events within it from a point of view quite different from the one he or she normally experiences. This may be because, at some time in the past, such people have learned that by entering a 'child state' they are more likely to get what they want. Successful behaviors are the ones most likely to be employed again. At the very least, one may suppose that anger must have worked form them when they were children. Having learned a behavior that got them what they wanted, it is almost impossible to alter that behavior at a later stage, even when it has become entirely inappropriate and the grown-up is behaving like a child." - Archimandrite Meletios Webber, Bread & Water, Wine & Oil p. 15-16

The author is discussing the idea that one of the consequences of the Fall is that humans have have become fragmented against themselves - body and 'person', heart and mind - we are internally fragmented and externally isolated. And I don't want to comment too much on that, though I think it's a great concept, because I haven't finished the chapter yet, so I'm not sure entirely where he's going. I do like, however, one quote, referring to why people need to follow spiritual principles in order to heal from this fragmentation: "Willpower alone is useless. I suppose it is axiomatic to say that we cannot use something that is broken to fix itself."

But I focus, for the moment, on the first paragraph. Because it's true, I know this from my own life, and it's just sort of interesting to see it in print. Now, I say the following not for gossipy purposes, but just to illustrate.

My Baby Sis grew up never being allowed to cry. She got sick almost immediately after she was brought home from the hospital and had to go back. She was in one of those little incubator things for...I think it was a month, but I was six, so, y'know, take that as you will. Consequently, when she did get to come home again, my mother and stepfather felt guilty and would never let her cry. The minute she started making noise, they were there, fussing until she quieted. And when she got older, same thing. Say 'no', she throws a fit, and *boom* she got her way. This went on for *years*. Now, of course, you wanna get into mitigating circumstances, sure: her father (my step father) was bipolar, a drug addict and an alcoholic who hit me if I made a fuss but indulged her because she was the *real* kid, and no, no, I'm not bitter, why're you looking at me like that? But I believe that this same scenario would hold true *without* those extra special issues. She's 21 now and she's had a hard, hard road learning that, as an adult, throwing a tantrum doesn't work.

So, to all you parents who just indulge, indulge, indulge - stop it. You're not doing your kids any favors. Seriously.

Reason #1 to Wear Hijab That People Don't Tell You:

Mosquito Proofing!


I can walk my dogs and not get eaten!



This is what I wore tonight, and I am completely unscathed!


Even bug repellent lets some of them through, and then I smell of bug repellent.

Headcovering - 6 Months Later

Six months ago, on July 3, 2008, I started covering full time. I actually forgot about it being the anniversary on the 3rd this month, and when I did remember, I had a time figuring out what I wanted to say. I've been thinking about it for a few days, so hopefully this will come out coherent in some fashion.

For me, the command to cover came personally. It was something like being hit in the chest. I can't even really remember specifically what I was reading at the time, though I know it was something online, when I was still trying to figure out whether or not I would be converting to Catholicism. It was something that I stumbled across, but I believe it was obviously what I was meant to find.

After that, I went looking for things about headcovering on the net. A great resource I found, for articles and blogposts and other information is Those Headcoverings. But here's the thing...I know, now, that I was looking to be un-convinced of this need I felt to cover. I was reading these articles, these posts, so that I could read their arguments and go 'eh, unconvincing', or 'stupid'. Something like that. I didn't find anything, and I read posts arguing against covering, and I didn't find them convincing either. So.

Six months later, six months of covering full time. What's it done? Have I changed at all?

I believe that I have. I'm moving, not just to cover, but to dress more modestly, to embrace my femininity. Which is not to say that women who don't dress like me, etc., aren't feminine. Just that I, personally, had rejected that part of myself. I didn't want to be a woman. Women, in the house I grew up in, were weak and useless. We lived in fear, and the men had all the power. There's a lot tangled up in all that, but the end result is that I grew up hating myself in some twisted fashion, and even after we no longer lived in that house, I knew that being a woman was some horrible flaw. I had a lot of anger. It drove me away from men, it drove me away from religion, because it was obviously invented by men, designed to lord it over women, and hold us down. Now, I'd worked through most of this by the time I embraced religion again, and some more of it when I felt called to cover, I don't want to give the impression that I was super-feminist and then all of a sudden I did a 180. No, it was a gradual thing.

When I started to cover, when I finally allowed myself to obey, I still had a lot of anger and resentment toward men. I'd accepted that they weren't all abusive jerks (with the exception of my Grandfather, who has always been a saint in my eyes), but I still thought that the world would be better off if they were put in their places. And their places were most definately beneath women, we just had to re-educate them, so they went willingly. Why, when I thought like this, did I cover? Well, I knew that it was from God, and God was above all of this 'him' and 'her' crap. Why did God want me to cover? *shrug* Who knew? It wasn't important, at the time. Just that I had decided to obey God, and I knew that this was something He wanted me to do. Now, I believe that the reason God 'smacked' me with this was because while I had resolved to obey, He knew that it was not going to be as easy as I thought it was. God used this to lead me in the direction I needed to go, to get rid of so much more of the anger and hatred that I was holding on to, even when I didn't realize it.

I cover, and I know in my heart that this means I am embracing a counter-cultural point of view. I believe, in my heart, even though I don't always manage to show it yet, that there is an order to the world, instituted by God, and that everyone has their place in it. The differences between men and women exist for a reason, and we both have our roles to play. One is not better than the other, which is what the world would like us to see this as, but rather, we compliment one another - where one is weak, the other is strong. And there's no shame in that, no reason to fight and stab at one another, and degrade each other.

I still have anger, my temper is not something that I'm proud of, and the urge to rip into people who aren't doing things the way I think they should be done, or not as efficiently as I would do them, or doing something 'stupid' hasn't magically dissipated. I have the vocabulary of a sailor, and I can curse in five languages, four of which I can't say anything polite in. But the covering makes me hesitate. It's a visible sign of an invisible change, a charge that I have willingly taken upon myself. Alana over at Free to Cover posted a link to a woman who says it so much better than I can, her post is In Your Anger.

I cover, and it makes me hesitate to give into my first rude impulse. I cover and it reminds me to follow God's Law. It reminds me to love others, to treat them as I would want them to treat me, even when they're treating me badly. It reminds me that, lacking a husband, the authority in our house belongs to my Dad, so even when I don't want to get up off my butt and help when he asks, I should, because he does deserve my respect. He's not unreasonable, he loves my mother and myself and my sister, and he is doing his best to lead our family and keep us happy and comfortable and together. I cover and it reminds me that someone forgetting to put their dishes away is some subtle inference that I'm the house-maid, but just a sign that they're human too, and that they forgot to pick up their coffee mug. I cover and it is a physical reminder that I am surrounded, always, by God and the angels, and while they know what I do, even in secret, I want to do things God's way, even when that's not my first impulse.

I'm adding two links to the bottom. The first is an article I came across, one of the last that I read before I made up my mind to obey in regard to covering.

On Account of the Angels by Elisabet - I came across many articles on covering, but this one has stuck with me for some reason.

The second link is a site that I just found, through Titus 2 Wife and Mommy's blog. I've just started going through the articles on the website, but so far, I'm loving it. I, of course, started poking through the section 'Especially for the Unmarried', but I've decided to read through the whole site - Ladies Against Feminism.

So that's it for the six month anniversary. I wish I was like some, with deep thoughts about this subject, but I'm not. I'm still learning, still trying to be the woman that I believe God wants me to be. It's an ongoing struggle, and all I can do is keep at it, and learn what I can along the way.

Swimming, Modesty, and Personal Idols

"Ah, well, yes, sometimes I swim alone. It’s not a very safe thing to do though, so when I do that, I don’t swim laps, just sort of laze about, and I don’t do it for very long. I’ll mostly swim with female friends, or, I have one friend who doesn’t like to swim, but she likes to sit on the deck and read, so she can do that while I do some laps or something. And I don’t wear bikinis or two pieces. Just nice, solid one pieces. I’ve always been too afraid the bikini would…malfunction at an inopportune moment.

Swimming, like anything, can be immodest. I actually, when I began to care about that sort of thing again, really thought about it. I gave up the beach, unless I’m just walking on it, and then I’m dressed. I only swim in my own pool, not other peoples. I know I’ve got bushes and trees and lots and lots of space between me an my neighbors, most of the people I know, don’t. I’m staying a friends house right now, house sitting, and she has a pool, and a cement wall around it, but her neighbors are right next door, and I’m just not taking that chance. I don’t have mixed pool parties anymore, and when my parents do, I don’t participate, and I actually try to avoid going out there. And until the hedge grew tall enough, I went into the pool in a big nightshirt and put it back on before I climbed out, just in case. And I made myself a big terrycloth headscarf for the pool too."

The above is my description of how I try to keep modest while also enjoying swimming. This was from a conversation on Umm Adams blog. She made a post about something else entirely, but it had this picture of a woman in a hijab-compliant swim suit, and of course we all latched on to the unusual outfit to discuss.

I love to swim. I could swim before I could walk. Growing up in Florida, that's what smart parents do. They teach their children to swim, as a precaution, because we are, of course, surrounded by water. Before my health issues made it impossible, I swam competitively in junior high. I just love the water, and everything about it. At the time, when modesty became important to me, I made all these changes just to enable myself to continue to swim and not violate my new sense of modesty. But looking at it, it seems like a lot to do just to immerse myself in water. Just saying that, though, doesn't reflect my enjoyment, the pleasure I get from this simple act. But on reading someone else's blog, that I can't recall, they were speaking about idols.

I am the LORD your God: you shall not have strange Gods before me. - This is a traditional Catechetical formula of the first commandment. It is not, obviously, a direct quote from the Old Testament.

In RCIA, when we went through the Ten Commandments, 'strange gods' was explained as being 'idols'.

An 'idol', according to the dictionary is –noun

1. an image or other material object representing a deity to which religious worship is addressed.
2. Bible.
a. an image of a deity other than God.
b. the deity itself.
3. any person or thing regarded with blind admiration, adoration, or devotion
4. a mere image or semblance of something, visible but without substance, as a phantom.
5. a figment of the mind; fantasy.
6. a false conception or notion; fallacy.

The definition that we concerned ourselves with, mainly, was number 3. An idol is not just a false god, but anything that you place before God. This can be money, your job, family, a hobby, friends, anything. I know that I have many 'idols' in my life, and I am doing my best to turn away from them. It's simply hard, after a life time of it, to reorder your life. However, swimming is not something that ever occured to me as being one of my 'idols'.

But maybe it is. I love it, I've gone to great lengths to be able to keep doing it, despite what I've come to realize are problematic aspects of it. One of the women on Umm Adams blog, Emma, belongs to a conservative Mennonite church, which views swimming as immodest, and they simply don't do it. I see that it can be immodest, and I've done my best to curtail that, so much as is possible. But the question becomes, am I placing my desire to do a thing I love before my obediance to God? It's not as though I believe swimming is going to send me to hell, far from it. But swimming is maybe just a focal point for this general question in my life. What other things am I bending and twisting around to be able to keep in my life, when I might be better served to just cut them out all together?

If I became convinced today that God forbade swimming, would I be able to stop? Do I have the strength to obey like that, in all aspects of my life?

Car Again

Car is at Sears. Did the funny thing again. Mom and Dad think it's the battery, but none of us really know cars. I'm hoping it's the battery, because battery is still under warranty from Sears, and I need to have a car, as I'm house/pet sitting starting Saturday, for a week and a half. I was calm though, this time, when car did it's thing. It's an improvement.

Edit: Was not battery, according to Sears. They cleaned the contacts, etc. anyway. Took it to Ford, with a list of possibilities that the Sears guys said could be wrong with it. Ford could find nothing wrong. *headdesk* They did some maintenance, yadda, and can't get it to do the funny thing anymore. Maybe they fixed the issue when they were cleaning/maintaining. I certainly hope so. If not? Back to Ford, and they'll just have to keep at it until they find the problem.

Evil is Evil all the time people

An evil done for a 'good purpose' is still EVIL. Why is that so hard for some to understand?

I Am Not the Person I Want to Be - Anger

I am not, to my own mind, an angry person. I don't run around, cursing all the time, yelling, or even quietly fuming.

I like to think of myself as fairly even tempered, all told. That being said, I do get angry. Everyone does, it's natural. We can't help it some times. The question is, what do we do when we're angry? Some people have inappropriate responses to things that anger them. They take it out on others, on innocent people, or animals, or even inanimate objects. None of these responses are appropriate. None. I don't have a good suggestion as an alternative, but there are therapists who do, that's their job, they studied for it.

I've never, in so far as I can remember, ever been angry like that. I've been angry enough that I want to scream, and cry, and throw things, yes. I've been so angry that I can't even speak! I have been incoherent with rage. But, thankfully, it's internal for me. Except for the throwing things urge, which I have never given in to, because I don't like breaking things.

Earlier in the week, something at work made me so angry that I was twitching with the urge to scream and tell someone off, and make them understand why they were such total, abject morons, and how their decisions made other peoples lives harder, and made it impossible to do our jobs properly. I did none of these things, because the abject morons in question own the place where I work, and all of this would get me fired.

Now, with several days between the incident and me, I can sit here and think:

Why does any of this make me so angry? I am lucky! I still have a job, no, it doesn't pay well, but it's a job, in a time when many have none, and no prospects of getting one. I have a roof over my head, and should something happen, I wouldn't lose it if I couldn't make any money. My car is paid off, I have a loving family, I have found faith, and happiness, and contentment in so many places where before I was just a raw, wounded nerve.

So why do I let this stuff get to me? Oh, there are reasons, reasons that a psychiatrist, or just a counselor would give me, on why my anger is not my fault. And, you know, I'm calling crap on that, for myself. Others have been through much, much worse, and they can have those reasons. I don't want it. I don't want people to know and look at me, and think, 'oh, well, yes, she's got a temper, but it's because...'. No.

The only reason that anything in this world matters, is because this is all a test. In the end, money only matters because I need it for food and shelter. My job only matters because I need it to make the money. But in the larger picture? None of this is going to be around forever. None of the things that I own are going to help me get closer to God's plan for me. But it can all make me stumble. And in letting my anger get to me like that, no matter how rarely it might happen, I believe I'm letting the world win, even if it's just a little.

I'm resolved to not let this happen again. I'm pretty sure I'm going to fail at that, but I'm going to try. I'm just not sure what, exactly to do, aside from keep in mind that this is all a test, one that I do not want to fail.

Crimes Against God - Where Does It End?

This is something I've been thinking about all day, so here's hoping it comes out in some sort of coherent fashion.

I used to, among other things, be pro-abortion. I fully and whole heartedly believed that a woman could do whatever she liked with her body, and if she screwed up and the birth control and/or condom didn't prevent pregnancy, then she should be able to end it. In the semi-famous words of a politician, I didn't think that she should be 'punished with a baby' for a mistake. Especially if she had been raped, or the child had a severe birth defect, or it was a pregnancy that threatened her life. I even, God forgive me, stated that if I ever became pregnant and discovered that the child had Down's Syndrome or something along those lines, that I would have an abortion. For the good of the child, you see, because I didn't want to have the child and have him suffer. Yes, that was my reasoning. You can see that it was just a cover for my own selfishness. I didn't want to be burdened with anything less than a perfect specimen of humanity.

In my long (to my mind at least) journey to where I am now, I eventually understood that, flaws and all, a child was a child from the moment they were conceived. I can't really point out a specific point where I realized this, but the 'moment of conception' realization came when I was trolling around a Catholic apologetics board. I can't remember the specifics, but one of the poster's was relating an anecdote where a professor/scientist? was lecturing to a class. He was a guest speaker, and the discussion was on proving where life began. The hosting teacher drew a line on the board, with different points along it, starting a conception and moving on down. After the lecture, the visiting lecturer continued the line, adding later in life possibilities. Graduating high school, college, marriage, getting a tenure as a professor. Those sort of things. And the point he made was that aside from the moment of conception, all of those points, all of those moments where you could point and say 'life begins here' were arbitrary. And that clicked for me.

And, thinking about it, I myself am only here because my mother chose to have me. Why? I don't know, she doesn't talk about my father, and I don't ask, because I know that it's a rough subject. I just know that she was eighteen, barely out of high school, and pregnant. I know that her parents supported her, and helped her, and for that, for my life, I am grateful. My best friend, a woman that I love as my sister, is only here because her mother chose to disregard the advice of her doctor. She was old when she got pregnant, and her doctor recommended an abortion, as a pregnancy at her age could be complicated. She didn't, and I have Eve.

So I'm thinking of these things, and I read this post over at Ave Maria, a blog that I adore. She's so clear, so concise, and right:

Ave Maria Gratia Plena...: You're walking down the street one day with five friends and you see a woman being raped...

Because these are the arguments that you hear to support abortion, and what's to stop them from flowing over into other crimes? And people will say, well, that can't happen, because those are crimes, and an abortion is legal. But abortion is a crime, whether the secular law sees it or not. It was a crime for a lot longer than it's been legal.

And I flow from the legalizing of killing our babies before they're born, later and later in their little lives, to the mothers who kill their children after they've been born. We just now had a grand jury return an indictment on a mother accused of killing her three year old daughter.

Arrest in Caylee Anthony Case

How can a mother do that? And I can't help but think that it comes from us cheapening life. Pregnant? Doesn't fit into your schedule? Abort. It's not really a child, not really even human yet. It has nothing to offer society. How much of a stretch is it for a person, selfish and clearly damaged in some fundamental way, to reach the conclusion that her child is in her way? That the baby, toddler, preteen, teenager cramps her lifestyle? She wants to go out and party, but no, there's the kid to worry about. Well, what does a three year old offer to the world? Nothing. So it's okay to kill her, because then we can get back to doing whatever we like, when we like. I'm not saying that this is this woman's process, but I think it's something to do with it. We've told generations of people that their babies aren't really human, and that just devalues all life.

And where does this end? I'm afraid somewhere around here:

Ave Maria Gratia Plena...: And the evil keeps rolling in like a suffocating fog...

All life is either sacred and defensible, or it's not. And I'm afraid that this is where we're heading, more and more. I read this, and I remember by grandfather, who did so much to raise me. He died about ten years ago, from cancer, and toward the end, he was helpless. He was delusional from the pain, and the medicine, and he could do nothing for himself. But we took care of him. We had hospice in, and my mother and my grandmother and I all did what we could, which wasn't much. My uncles had the chance to come and see him, and when he died, he died at home, with my grandmother, with the woman that he loved. And it kills me to imagine someone saying to him that he was a burden! A drain on our family! He gave everything that he had for his family, for strangers, he was filled with so much love and kindness that I can't even begin to explain it. The least that we could do was honor him in his last days, keep him comfortable. He was worth more than any measure, from the beginning of his life to the very end.

And so must everyone else be, from beginning to end. And only God knows when that end should come. Not us.

Bookmark on My Life

I started covering, full time, on July 3, 2008. I had been covering at home for about a month prior, and wearing a wide headband out in public.

This is something that I had been building up to for several months. I had, in my need to know everything been reading a Catholic message board and came across some very heated debates about whether or not women were still required, under the new canon laws, to wear veils to Mass. Both side of the debate can get very...agitated by the discussion, for reasons that I can't understand. However, as I sat there reading it, it just struck me that covering was, at least for me, the right thing to do. But I shook my head, and thought, no, no, it's an old fashioned tradition. The Church took that requirement out. We no longer have to wear them, most women don't, and you'll just look silly.

But the thought wouldn't leave me alone. So I started investigating. The first sites and blogs I found were all Muslim women, wearing the hijab, explaining how they were doing it not because they were forced, but because God had commanded it. And then they would list the reasons behind the command, but it came down to something as simple as that. God said so. And so, without knowing that there were other women, aside from the Amish and some of the Mennonite branches that covered all the time, at least in the Christian faith, I went looking for more arguments for the continued covering by women in their churches. Boy, did I ever find them. Some wonderful, well thought out, well researched posts and articles. There was this entire community of women out there who felt as I was beginning to feel, that God had called them to this, to covering.

I looked at the classic passage, 1 Corinthians 11, where St. Paul instructs that women should be veiled when they pray or prophesy. That the veil is a symbol of the authority that is over her, whether that authority is God, her father, her husband, or the priest. And she should cover her glory, her hair, on account of the angels. Out of respect. Okay. By St. Paul's direction, women should cover their hair in church. The Church, when they published the new canon laws, left out any mention of headcoverings, which means that it is not forbidden, nor is it commanded. But Paul did command it. So, I fall back to that original command. Paul did not say, "these particular women, right there, in the first row, must cover, but the rest of you, 2,000 years later, you don't have to anymore." No. He said that women should be veiled when they pray, out of respect for the authority of God, and for the angels. Why the angels? Who knows. I've seen some interesting arguments as to what "on account of the angels" might mean, but I'm undecided on why the angels care that I cover. The important fact is that that little phrase, "on account of the angels" shows that it does matter to them.

Right. So, covering in church was clearly (to me) commanded in the Bible. I would start doing that, but in a subtle way, so as not to distract the other parishioners from their worship. I was distracting enough, since I cannot take communion yet, and so there is some maneuvering when people come back to the pew after receiving. This is where the large headbands came in. But I felt, at least for me, that this was a cheat. It didn't cover my head, not at all. But for the time being, it was what I had. While I tried to work out what to do, the headbands were better than nothing.

And while I'm thinking of all this, it comes to me, that we are also instructed to pray unceasingly. Right. I can do that. Oh! But wait, I have to cover when I pray. So I found an old scarf of my sisters, green with purple polka dots, sheer, and quite long. And when it was time for me to pray at home, when I felt the need to pray, I would go into my room, lock the door, and wrap this scarf around my head to pray. But people would knock, they would interrupt me, and I would have to whip off this scarf (so I didn't look odd) and go answer the door. They eventually understood that if I was cloistered in my room, I was praying, and not to be disturbed, but this just came to feel silly. I was not praying unceasingly, because whenever the need struck, if I wasn't able to get to my room, I couldn't cover. This didn't mean that I didn't pray, but I felt wrong about it. Knowing that I should be covered, and not being. And so I didn't always pray when I felt that I should.

Then, one day, doing yard work, enjoying the sun and the weather and trimming our trees, the thought came: I am constantly surrounded by God, and His angels. If He is everywhere, and we are to cover in His Presence, then that means covering all the time. Everywhere. And it was that simple. I would cover all the time, and honor God and the angels, and then, whenever and where ever the need struck, I would be able to pray. So simple.

And so in June I took the plunge. I explained to my family that I was going to start covering, and why. Around the house I could wear large kerchiefs, which cover, at the moment, 99% of my hair, and all of my head. My hair is fairly short, so that when I put it up in a little miniature pony tail it disappears under the back of the kerchief. But I couldn't wear those in public, and certainly not to work. They just weren't appropriate, dress wise. So I ordered two snoods. Very basic, one in black, one in white. That way, they would go with anything, and I hadn't put a great deal of investment into this, should it not work out. You see, I was still nervous, still worried that I would feel like an idiot, or people would say something.

While I waited, and worried, I continued to wear the headbands, but all the time now, to get myself used to wearing something on my head, and to get the people I worked with used to seeing something on my head. And then the snoods arrived. Two days before I was supposed to go on vacation for a week. So I wore one to work the next day. I figured, that way, if it was too much, if it was difficult, then people would forget about it while I was out, and when I came back, everything could just go back to normal. I knew that I should cover, that it was right, but I was still nervous.

That morning, I slipped the white snood on, pinned it with some bobbi pins, tied the ties around my little pony tail, to make it a little bun, and hopped in my truck. I was nervous, but I still felt that it was right. And then, I turn off of my street, a turn that I've taken a million times, and I saw the cross. It was just a shadow, formed out of the pylons on the interstate overpass that I drive under every day on my way to and from work. I have driven past those pylons hundreds of times, and I have never seen the shadows form a cross before, and I have never seen them do it since. A trick of the light? Maybe. But my nervousness melted away. I was confident. I was obeying God. It didn't matter what people at work might think.

But you know what? All I heard, all day, were compliments. People thought that it was lovely, that it suited me, somehow. And all of those compliments were nice, were lovely, they made me feel good, but it wouldn't have mattered. I knew that I was going to cover for the rest of my life.

And I'll be the first to admit that I haven't been covering for a very long time. A little less than two months. But here's the thing: it feels like forever. It's so simple, so instinctive to get up in the morning, pull on the kerchief before I leave my room to walk the dogs. To change into a nicer scarf as I'm getting ready for work. (I still have the snoods, but I bought a few nice scarves that I prefer.)

People that I don't know are more polite, men tend to pause, to hold doors, to let me go first. A random twelve year old at the grocery store told me that I looked pretty. And since I know I haven't changed except for the scarves, I make the connection.

And I've noticed that I, personally, have started to change. I'm...adversarial with men on many levels. But that's a story for another time. The point is, I'm not nearly as respectful as I should be to men who deserve my respect. My stepfather, for one. A good man, a loving man, who married my mother and accepted the responsibility for two nearly grown girls who had been badly mistreated by the 'father' in their lives prior to him. And I obeyed him, when I thought that he was right. But when I thought that I knew better, or that his wishes were just stupid, well. As I said, adversarial. Now, though, I still have the thoughts, but not as many. I think, I pause, I take a second, and I remember that he is a good man, with many years of experience on me, and I think about what he is saying. And you know, he's still not always right. But I can have a conversation with him, and we can work to a solution. Which he was always willing to do, but I wasn't. And the scarf makes me more careful in how I speak about others, what I think. I've, apparently, got the vocabulary of a sailor. I don't use it as much anymore. I slip, but I'm working on it.

Now, that's not to say that I'm done. I would, personally, prefer to switch to all skirts and dresses. But that's a slower process, changing over my entire wardrobe, since I generally wear slacks to work and therefore don't own many skirts. But I wear a skirt or a dress as often as possible, and my other clothes are checked over to make certain that nothing is too tight, or shifts inappropriately when I move.

And that's that. My bookmark. I want to be able to look back when I've been covering for six months, a year, and more. And see how much I've grown, how much I've changed.

Philippians - Not Being Bound to the Past

Okay,

So, on my very first post, my first comment was one of encouragement. Thank you! LisaM, who runs the blog Those Headcoverings, which I love, mentioned the letter to the Philippians. It just so happened that I was getting to that letter in my reading of the Bible. (No, I haven't read the entire Bible yet. I'm close though!)

I think that Philippians is a wonderful letter. I mean, they all are, but in most of the letters Paul is correcting some problem that the church he is addressing is having. We don't know the exact nature of the issues because we only have one piece of what I am certain was a more lengthy exchange. And all of it is useful, it helps guide us by showing us that these problems existed, and what the solution for them is. How the early church handled the questions and problems that arose.

But Philippians seems to be a letter of praise. Paul praises the Philippians for their generosity, their faithfulness to Christ's teachings which Paul brought to them. And he still offers advice, perhaps in a preemptive effort. He speaks against clinging to the past, to actions that offered nothing of spiritual value as they had been superceded by a newer, perfect covenant. He is speaking, it seems to me, specifically of the old laws, circumcision, keeping kosher, etc.

However, the lesson that I'm taking from this is that when taking the new path, when breaking from your old life, you have to evaluate the pieces of your old life and if they are of true value, or not. I, personally, know that there are habits, things that I enjoyed, that I would still enjoy if I let myself do them, that are of no true value. They are, in fact, harmful. And there are other things that aren't. It's figuring out which things are which, and how to phase everything over to the new way of life without a massive shock to my 'system' that is difficult.

For example, there are certain websites, certain things, that I know are harmful, that I know I need to not look at anymore. (I leave it to the imagination what the content of these might be.) And I deleted those links, and emptied the trash. Good. Done. Byebye, I won't be able to find them again, so the temptation is gone. However, the desire was still there. And I wished that I'd kept the links, and then I 'cleverly' realized that I hadn't cleared the cookies and the history of the computer, and there the links were. Yay! And I went right back to it.

I regretted it, afterward. I deleted the links again, and I wiped out the cookies and the history, and everything else. And then I did it all over again. So, delete, delete, delete. And this time I prayed, I asked God to help me, because it was perfectly clear that my simple determination to not do something that I know is bad was not going to be enough. Thankfully, God is listening, and I haven't had the desire to return to that habit, and I know that it's not through my efforts, but His grace and help.

So from Philippians, I take the lesson that we must break from the past, leave what is not just harmful, but also not of any help. It's painful sometimes, it really is. But the pain is a temporary thing. The goal, the end result will be so very, very worth it. And clearly, we can't forget our past, but, you know, that should just help us as well. We remember the past, but we see it through new eyes, with a new desire, and with the help of God to turn to, so that we can avoid falling back into our old mire pits.

It's probably a cliche, but I like this verse especially: 'Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.' - Philippians 4:8

-Amber