Religion

Now there's a forbidden topic...but this is a blog that has to be.

When I was a little girl, we lived (still do) just down the road from Shiloh church. My cousin was the organist there, and on Saturdays, I would go with her to practice for the Sunday worship service. We had a good time in the empty church - I loved music, and we would giggle while she told me all about the choir member she had such a crush on. And then, I would attend church on Sundays, and eventually, I became a member there.

I remember reciting the Apostles Creed, taking communion. It was all very reverent,very quiet. You could have heard a gum wrapper drop, so the giggles my cousin and I shared during practice were a huge no-no. It was a perfect set-up for the culture shock that would follow when I attended a Baptist revival a few years later. The Amens! flowed, the preacher was animated and had color in his face as he invited the congregation to give their souls and hearts over to Jesus. I liked it there - and so I stayed, but didn't give myself over to Jesus until I was 15 and at yet another revival, they showed the film Scared Straight. I was traumatized by the film's graphic nature. I marched myself up to the pulpit, lest MY head should be separated from the rest of my body like the motorcyclist in the movie and gave myself over to the service of the Lord that very night. For days, I carried a Bible around with me and read it during breaks at school, my personal amulet against satan.

Meanwhile, the rest of my family remained at the old church. My mother was very upset with me for not attending there, and I stopped going anywhere for services. Yet...without the fellowship, without the support that is so important, I still remain a spiritual woman who does have a relationship with God. He has picked me up by the seat of my pants and deposited me where He wanted me to be too many times for there to be room for agnostic doubts. I believe He is the still voice that comes to me in times of trouble and lends me comfort. He is the presence in my green cathedral.

I've given a great deal of thought to Christianity and what it means over the years, what it means to serve God and do his work on this earth. I haven't always followed through, but I give when I can - not to the church, but by way of donations to community, including the animals. Lending an ear or shoulder to someone when they need it. And I'm the first to admit, I don't do this often enough. And I have often thought I would like to attend church again, but have had a difficult time deciding where to go. Not back to the Baptist church where I was a member. It has grown large and political, and they have one of those signs out front that tells you the temperature and when services will be held (a great big orange arrow pointing towards the building). My choices boiled down to the little Methodist church that hasn't changed much in thirty years and the church where my cousin was organist - UNTIL

Easter Sunday. My sister came home for the Easter celebration dinner. My son picked her up at the nursing home where she is a resident, and has been for the past fifteen years. She brought with her a letter from the new pastor at Shiloh, informing her that her membership there had been terminated for non-attendance.

My sister is in a wheelchair. She can feed herself, but there are times when she is so drunk from the medications that her eyes swim in her head. You can see it. Her feet swell so that, often, she can't get her shoes on her feet. If she has to go to the bathroom, it takes someone with a strong back to lift her from her chair and sit her on the toilet - in short, Carol doesn't get out much. The church knows this...

When I read that letter, I was burned with a flame a mile high. YES, I understand that members need to attend. But I understand something the new pastor doesn't seem to get - she can't sit there long enough for him to preach his Christian ways.

I saved the envelope for the return address, fully intending to write and first ask him if he realizes her condition, and if the answer is yes (which it should be), I planned to thank him for not visiting her at the nursing home and to congratulate him on having such a large following that he could cut loose one of his congregation without a second thought. That brand of christian love is enough to turn a person against organized religion for life. I know that after seeing the hurt in my sister's eyes, it has left a taste in my mouth more acrid than sulfur.

Perhaps I'll just stick to my green cathedral, after all.

It was quite an honor when, opening my email this past week, to find that Lori at Dusty Pages had given out an award, and had included me! Thank you, Lori, and congratulations on your award. Your blogs always teach me something or leave me smiling.

And according to Lori's blog, I'm supposed to list seven things I love. They are:

1. Getting lost in a good book. The characters become real to me, and when the last page is read, it's like losing dear friends. That explains why I read my favorites over and over.

2. The scent of honeysuckle. We used to go for rides in summer, and instead of turning on the air conditioner, I kept the windows rolled down so I could smell the honey flavored air. It's a reminder of times when the world was sweeter and more simple.

3. My patio. It has become a haven, and during tumultuous times, I escape there with a cup of Seville Orange Coffee and drink it and the peace in.

4. Orange Seville coffee. It is my new passion.

5. Dogs. They love you back, no matter what.

6. The whippoorwill's song on a summer night.

7. Swimming. It's the closest thing to absolute freedom I have experienced.

One of the best things about this award is passing it on.

Paula at Pauline's Country Tales has entertained us all by taking us along on her trips out and about. You don't read her blog without feeling as if you've had a taste of life on the ranch and living in Texas!

Leigh at My Thoughts Honestly has such a way with prose. She's another who can put you in the moment.

Mary a Rejected Truth ...There really is no need for elaboration. Mary is WOW!

I do have more to add, but duty calls for now.

To all of you - I've missed you.

I feel like poetry..

That's a good sign, don't you think?

First Light

He said,
Goodbyes aren't allowed,
It won't be forever.
I believed him, never spoke the words
until time stretched the expanse
and I thought it was broken.
Only I knew the utterance that, with no one to catch it,
fell at my feet,and the world went so wan without him.
Forever, it seemed, music was stilled and poetry withered,
exiled
like unspoken words,
to depths that could never be reached again.
All good things he said were worth waiting for
were lost in faltering faith,
and the conviction that hope was prelude to a tear drop.

But tonight, faint strainsof a long ago melody whispered,
in his voice, the sweet song
I love you
and in the breathless after-moment,
I felt the stirrings of poetry rise
to spill warm and wet from my lashes,
and the music grew stronger as the light I thought extinguished
shone prelude to a sunburst,
and the whisper closed distancewith the beautiful words...
I'm coming home.

Where I Have Been

Wow, time really slips away when you're tumbling. Ever since November 30, I have felt like God or the Universe picked up the snow globe I inhabit and shook it hard...and when the flakes finally settled, we were in some foreign space and trying to find a foothold.

Since I last wrote...

I have moved from the little house in the woods to the big house beside the busy highway in civilization (thank you, Jess, I like the way you phrased that). We moved in with my mother to take care of her. One day - and I fervently hope that one day is far, far in the future - this will be home, but for now, I'm trying to adapt.

Mom has been in the hospital, which precipitated our move. We had spent the night because she was sick, and at 3 a.m. I heard her fall. Now...had she been alone, I shudder to think what might have happened. And shortly after she came home from the hospital, she informed me that I was now living with her. I'm glad it was her decision and not mine. Makes it so much easier.

And so, coming home from work, I turn right instead of left. I am living life in an "L", and hope to be back when the dust finally settles, or at least when I'm sure the snow globe won't be shaken for a while.

So - a belated Happy New Year to all of you, and give me some time to get around to you all again. Take care!

My SINCEREST apologies!

I was messing around on a site called reunion. com and I inadvertently sent out invitations to everybody in my address book - I honestly didn't know what I was doing. So if any of you receive that invitation, please forgive me and delete the thing.

I am so embarrassed.

Miss Thang

A little over a month ago, we went to visit our daughter, and put that baby gate up for the dogs. The smallest, Baby, managed to get her two front paws caught in the gate and broke both of them. We have had her at the vets for dressing changes every week since it happened. She's really a sweet little dog, but we have discovered how fierce she can be via the wonderful staff at Banfield who have nicknamed her "Miss Thang." Yesterday, she chewed off the bandage on her left leg, just done on Wednesday. So - in the car and back to PetSmart we went. We picked her up later that day, brought her home, and son of a gun if she didn't chew off the bandage on her right leg sometime during the night. The good news is, she's healing. And the good news is, she hasn't bitten anybody yet, thanks to sedatives and a muzzle. Y'all, don't learn the hard way like we did...never leave a small animal behind a baby gate. It's much too dangerous for them. If I haven't made it by your blogs yet, I will. Slowly getting caught up after the last week. Thanks to you all for your comments and support.

Sunday

My father was with us through Thanksgiving. He was conscious, alert, and was able to at least touch his new great-grandson. He went to bed after that and never got up again. He slipped into a coma sometime last night, and passed away a 3:25 this evening. He doesn't hurt anymore.

Thanks to all of you who have left words of encouragement. You are all very kind, and I am grateful.