Post Christmas Grumble Treacle and Snort

Realizing that I may be scorned and reviled, I am going to say it.

I am disturbed by the "Happy Birthday, Jesus" craze.  Well meaning Christian parents bake cakes, put on party hats, take little kids to the the big Nativity display at Church so they can sing "Happy Birthday" to Jesus (I've even heard tell of Churches singing the "Birthday" song during Christmas services, shiver).

We get so wrapped up in sentimentality that we feel the need to make everything "sweet".  Treacle.  Well intentioned parents present Jesus as the buddy-friend-pal, God as His doting kindly Father and the Holy Spirit as a fluffy bird.  Angels?  Angels are what grandparents and puppies turn into when they die. Parents wring their hands trying to decide when to tell kids about hell or the devil, and end up simply letting that slide.

Teaching RE (aka "Sunday School" for my non-Catholic friends) for years, I see the result of this marketing plan.  Teenagers who think Satan is a myth, that do not know hell is real, that think the only sins are murder and smoking, that as long as we are a "good person" we go to heaven (where we get to become an Angel!)

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom".  Scripture states this not once but twice (Psalm 111:10 and Proverbs 9:10).  Fear of the Lord is one of the gifts of the Holy Spirit.  We have lost our sense of reverence, our children, our adults, do not have a healthy fear of God.

This holy fear, this reverence, begins with realizing that God is all powerful and all knowing.  That God, who spoke the universe into existence, became man and was born of the Virgin Mary.  Christmas is not a birthday party with cupcakes, Christmas is when all of time knelt in adoration and reverence and fear before a manger in Bethlehem.  The Eternal God, the Word made flesh, was born to a virgin.  This should strike us speechless.  Kings and Angels (who are created beings, not Aunt Sally come back with wings, but, I'll save that for another post), they bowed down and sang - not a ditty from the early part of the 20th century - but "Glory to God in the highest and peace to His people on earth".

Children learn so much from things we do not even consider.  Songs are one of the best ways to teach kids.  We cannot teach reverence and awe for our Creator while teaching them that Jesus gets the same song as your stinky cousin.  Jesus is different, He is someone we adore and worship.  We sing songs for Him that we do not, that we cannot, sing for any other person.

Your kids are adorable, if you want them to sing a song to baby Jesus, teach them "O Come All Ye Faithful".  Save "Happy Birthday" for Aunt Sally, before she dies and becomes an angel...

Happy Birthday, Katie and Lauren

When I was a kid, I thought that the song "The Twelve Days of Christmas" was about the run up to Christmas Day and it was wicked cool that my birthday was the first of those famous 12 days.  That was before I realized that Christmas is a season and not a day.

Those of us with near-Christmas birthdays tend to have a bit of a complex.  Our birthdays are frankly inconvenient.  Everyone is busy with pre-holiday frenzy, to find time to celebrate a birthday in the middle of it is just a nuisance.  We get birthday gifts wrapped in Christmas paper, the famous "we'll get you one bigger gift for both Christmas AND birthday" line, we have low attendance at birthday parties (memories of my 14th are as fresh today as they were that day when exactly ONE person came to my party).  The very WORST is a birthday cake decorated with poinsettias and Christmas trees.

Because of all this (which would likely be better with therapy, but, who has time for THAT in December?) when my nieces were born on December 23, I had a "tiny sad" that they would face a lifetime of not-so-special birthdays.  

This blog post is not about Christmas.  It is about two beautiful young ladies.  They are shining examples of Christian virtue in a world that becomes darker by the year.  I love you both, I am proud to be your Auntie.

Katie Rose and Lauren Grace, Happy Birthday.

4th Sunday of Advent

Christmas sneaks up on me every year.  Working for a Church intensifies this ambush because bulletin printer deadlines begin hitting before Thanksgiving, so, I am always working three weeks ahead.  It completely boggles my sense of where I am in time.

Aside on "where I am in time" - ever since I can remember, I have visualized time as a circle.  Calendar months are laid out in this circle with January at 1 o'clockish and we move clockwise with December at high noon.  The days and weeks are in the same position as a calendar page, neat little grids.

Therefore, I see myself physically located at a spot on that wheel, but, the nature of the bulletin lady cycle has me working ahead in that circle.  Sometimes it is so confusing, if not for my wonderful co-workers and volunteers who proofread (in particular this week, Shelly for pulling my fat out of the fire and realizing BEFORE I sent it to the publisher that I'd put the weekly parish activities calendar for the week of Epiphany in the bulletin for the week of the Feast of the Holy Family - and she was the 3rd person to proof that particular bulletin!) our bulletin would be more comedy and less informative.

Had begun crocheting and knitting gifts early this year, only to end up at the last minute filling the Priority Mail boxes - - - realizing in cold panic that I'd forgotten to make anything for my 5 year old great nephew, Carter.  Thanks to my friend Karen S. who back in September shared a pattern she found http://crochetvolution.com/archives/spring-2012-archives/duck-pond-playset ... I was able to whip up a racecar track/pouch in an hour or so...(admittedly, the gauge was all wonky and the thing will likely never lie flat, but, he is 5 and we'll just say they are "mountains").

So, here I sit, on the 4th row of the calendar that is at the top of the wheel, I see Christmas only 3 days off and I am woefully unprepared, materially and spiritually.  I've vowed to stay OFF Facebook until after the holidays (have broken that vow a few times already), need to plan a meal and to finish the crochet project that I began for Jude last year.

Christ talked about folks who were busy with their lives and were unprepared for the coming of the Lord.  I've 3 days to do what the Church gave us 4 weeks for, prepare the way!  Better snap to it.

--- 1 ---

Blogging. Committing to it. Gonna be a big shot.

--- 2 ---

I've been asked to lead a "how to make knotted cord rosaries" workshop during the Confirmation retreat on Sunday. Please pray for the students, leaders and for me (that the clunker of a body holds up). Need to make some example rosaries tonight while I watch TV...

--- 3 ---

Too many people in my life are finding some fishies that look like snakes as well as scorpion shaped bread. I can either become dismayed or I can pray more.

--- 4 ---

If anyone sees my son, please tell him to return mommy's copy of "The Bad Popes". Thank you.

--- 5 ---

I've less than a week to finish an afghan that I began a year ago. UGH. Can I tie rosaries with my feet while I crochet a Tardis?

--- 6 ---

Styx will be playing just over the way a bit on Friday night. I will not be there. I know that Tommy Shaw will notice and he will sorely miss me.

--- 7 ---

Last, most important, this weekend is my Mother-In-Law's birthday. One of the least deserved blessings of my life is the family that came along with Brad. I've not been the DIL I could be, the physical distance and toil of life I spin into excuses to not call, not write, not email. I promise that this year I will be the sort of DIL that Sharon deserves. I admire and love her, she is one of the classiest women I have ever met.

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

Back to blogging.

After many false starts, going to give it another try.

Today I am thinking of people who inspire me.

A young man whom I have never met inspires me.  

My co-worker visited a Disability Conference today.  She came back to the office with two pretty little clay trains.  These trains were made by a young man who has autism.  He sculpts and paints these small treasures and signs each of them after they are purchased.  

I was struck by his determination as both an artist and a disabled person.

This is a news story Google turned up about this young artist.

May God bless you, Jeremiah.  Keep up the inspiration.

Inspiration also sprouted from a small hearted place.

An internet friend made me and others aware of a rude Facebook page.  The title of this page was "I'd Like To Have A Midget For A Pet".  Sporting stolen photos and sickening posts, several people reported the page as hate speech directed toward those with disabilities.

First wave of reports received instant responses that equated to "Nah, you reactionary, this page is just good, clean fun" from the Facebookrobot.   After a few hours and some more reporting, the page disappeared.  Those who organized this effort as well as the human in a cube at Facebookland who acted, well, they inspire me.

Oh.......  What do I watch tonight?  Grey's Anatomy or Parenthood?  I am torn.

Watching Luna Die

Degenerative Myelopathy

Found out what it was, peace that it was not from her injury and that with a rear lift harness and attention to bedding and potty schedule she could live for a year or more - and in the past 2 days I can see she is giving up.   The dog who loves her food will barely eat, I tempt her with special things, she nibbles.  She is just winding down.  I don't know how to do this.

We Have A Post

We Have A Pope!

Could not help but go back in time to the last Papal election.   I was Mrs. Corporate Middle Management with my nice office and house by the lake, was a busy lady, an important person!  When I saw the news blurb of white smoke I turned on the TV in a nearby conference room, one of the guys from upstairs came down to watch with me.   

Today, I have learned the lessons of loss and poverty.  Today we were having an office luncheon to say "Goodbye" to Sister Marta as she leaves for several months.  The computer was on the table with "smokewatching feed" as much of the staff from our parish and school listened to Father W. talk about the Papacy, conclaves... as I watched the screen it crossed my mind "would it be sumptin' if that white smoke started as we sat here listening to Father answer questions and teach (and does Father LOVE to teach!)..." but.... I knew it was really too early in the day, we'd not see the smoke from the day's elections for at least another hour or so.

And then, Sister Marta and I at the same time said "smoke smoke" and a chorus of voices said "IT IS WHITE".   Sr. Marta hugged me and told me she loved me, there were tears in my eyes as I shared with my parish family that moment.

The staff snapped into action, setting up the projector in the Hall and getting the stream from EWTN going.  All of the students from SJS Catholic School came to the hall and staff, some parents, and the kids - we all waited together.  Now, like with any family gathering, the sound feed kept sputtering and the kids were far too loud, but, it was just that - it was a family gathering.  Father would come in and shuss everyone (we adults were as bad as the kids with our chatter), then go out to take a call.  Our parish church bells rang for that entire time of "anticipation".... Father found his place, on the floor, seated amid the littlest of the kids, looking at that screen with the same face of joy  - - - we are all gonna see our PAPA.

When we saw light behind the curtain, I grabbed the arm of next to me, our music teacher, and said "that is HIM" and she was as giggly as I.

Well, while I have lost many things in the past few years, I have gained as well - this time, it was much better meeting the new Pope surrounded by family.

Why did I choose a theme package with airplanes?  Because I just want to fly away.  Weary, weary, weary.   It is March 2, we have 10.98 until I get paid on Thursday.   This barely scraping by makes one old before their time.  Guess I am supposed to be a good Christian and thank God that the the only unpaid bill are the medical bills (since they cannot repo a MRI I think I am safe there).

Luna is still circling the drain.  I found one of those doggie wheelchair thingies that would allow her to get up and go potty, but, it might as well cost $249,000 because there will never be an extra $249 in this house.  My dear friend Kim has offered to pay to have my dog put down and buried.  Now, that is the kind of friend that money cannot buy.  I love you, Kim.  I love you so much it hurts.

Last night all I wanted was to go to sleep, and thank God He gave me a night of sleep.  I was cuddled with the afghan that my mommy crocheted for me.  What a comfort that blankey is these days.

Tomorrow is ordination day, a day of joy for our parish, our Diocese and for my friends George and Brenda.  Gotta pull it together and be happy for them tomorrow...

Luna is old.  Luna is tired.  Luna has been my very best friend.

Her hips are so weak that she cannot get up without assistance and she is too heavy (in spite of her ribs showing these days) for me to lift.  So, on these evenings when Brad is at work, she goes between sleeping and yowling.  I am grateful when she gives up and goes to sleep.  She looks at me with those eyes and does not understand why I will not pick her up so she can go outside.  It is the yowling that kills me.

Anyone who has met Luna knows that her happy sound is something like nine cats being smashed by a steam roller, so, you can imagine what her hurting and frustrated sound is like.  Sometimes I scream back at her, I feel so helpless.   I'd give one of my legs for hers to work, seriously, I would.  I'd kick it in that cool electric chair and never think a second thing about it.

In a matter of days I will have to make that most grown up decision, to have my dog "put to sleep".  I have prayed that it will not come to that, in my perfect imagining one evening Luna is her old self, she plays her nightly blanket game and we "sing".  She eats a big bowl of spaghetti and falls asleep beside me on the sofa as I crochet.  That night, sometime in the night, she just slips away.  I awake to find her still and gone.   (In my dream I do not go into the hysterical sobbing and with Brad calling my doctor for some Xanax while I vomit, it is far more Martha Stewart than that.)

Now, I lie in bed and worry about what to do with 35 lbs of dead Shiba Inu.  We are so poor that we cannot pay attention, I am sure that cremation costs a hundred bucks - where will that come from?  We live in town so we cannot just bury her in the yard, anyway, it is a rental and I could not just leave her here.

Right now, she is asleep again.  If I sit in this spot until Brad gets home, my back pain will keep me up, but, small price to pay so she knows I am close by and she is not yowling - yet.