I lasted a whole week. Expect a friend request from me if we were connected before.
I held my breath; I stepped outside and let the change begin.
I took a step and with new strength I’d never felt before,
I kissed my comfort zone goodbye and closed and locked the door.
- from a poem titled “My Comfort Zone,” author unknown
Change is never easy, however, I would be hard pressed to point out times in my life when I’ve taken a risk and not been rewarded in the long run. Knowing that still doesn’t make those first few steps any easier. In fact, the older I get, the harder it is to make potentially life-altering decisions.
We are currently in the process of buying another home. Moving was the last thing on my mind a couple of months ago, but I apparently got the fever after looking at the house I discussed in an earlier post. I discovered one that looked much more promising on a realtor’s webpage, figured it would be worth a drive-by, and promptly fell in love. I couldn’t wait to tell Honey about it, and he also really liked it. Although it is only two and a half miles off the highway, it feels like it’s in the middle of nowhere. It sits on over 4.5 acres, has no close neighbors, and there’s even an old-fashioned red barn! I would be living the same distance from work, but we would be a bit closer to the city where we drive for church and leisure.
Although this house won’t require near as much remodeling as the first house we looked at, it will need quite a bit of updating. We love the floor plan, but the interior is still sporting a 1970’s look – complete with pink tile in the bathroom and floral print wallpaper in the kitchen. Nothing we can’t correct with enough time, money, and willpower.
As excited as I am about the possibilities, it feels a little bittersweet knowing that we would be leaving our wonderful neighbors. Even though Mrs. J no longer lives alone, I was terribly anxious about breaking the news to her. We procrastinated as long as we could, but we wanted to make sure that we told her before our current home was listed and a “For Sale” sign went up in the front yard. We told her Monday evening, and she took the news surprisingly well. We assured her that we would only be 5 minutes away and available anytime she needs us.
In the meantime, I’m sitting on pins and needles. I’m excited about the prospect of buying a fabulous piece of property, but I’m also apprehensive about the changes that are going to take place in our lives. Honey describes his feelings as “unsettled.” I’m sure we will both feel that way for a while, but trust that we will come to love and cherish the new home just as much as the one we have now.
Facebook has an application called “Gods Wants You to Know…” that I have seen several of my friends using. During the process of making the decision and negotiating all the details, I decided to try it out for the first time. This is what it said: “On this day, God wants you to know that all is well. All is going according to plan. Trust that there is a bigger picture. Trust that life is unfolding as it should.”
As cheesy as it sounds, somehow that made me feel better.
During his sermon yesterday morning, our new pastor told of how he recently encountered another local pastor who expressed his dismay over our church’s acceptance of homosexuals. After asking if he was pastoring the “happy” church, this other minister expressed his disapproval, and even said he had a couple of women in his congregation that he’d like to send our way. Our pastor assured him that we would be delighted to have them.
It’s ironic that our church is thought of as the Gay Church when there are only four gay persons who regularly attend – Honey, I, and a couple of lesbians. The fact that our denomination has an open door policy towards everyone shouldn’t result in the entire congregation being labeled as gay/queer/happy/etc.
As I sat listening to the rest of the sermon, I pondered how other members of the congregation have to suffer simply because I’m there. Not only are they willing to accept me into their midst, they do so knowing that they will be subjected to discrimination and homophobia from others in the religious community. I can’t even express how much that saddens me.
I’m not sure why I haven’t completely give up on Christianity by now. I guess I just keep hoping that a combination of time and education will bring a change of heart to a group of people who can sometimes seem so heartless.
I’m not using my personal account on Facebook anymore, so don’t think I defriended you. =)
I can’t completely delete the account, unfortunately, because I’m the administrator of our church’s Facebook page.
I adore David Gray and Annie Lennox, so it should surprise no one that I am currently addicted to the song they did for David’s latest release.
Full Steam
All our lives we’ve dreamed about it
Just to find that it was never real
This sure ain’t no great Valhalla
Coming closer each turn of the wheel
Forlorn, adrift on seas of beige
In this our Golden Age
Even in our darkest hour
Never thought that it could get so bad
Bullied, suckered, pimped and patronised
Every day your tawdry little lives
So loose your head
And step within
The silence deafening
Now you saw it coming
And I saw it coming
We all saw it coming
But we still bought it
Now you saw it coming
And I saw it coming but still
Running full steam ahead
In and out of consciousness
It breaks my heart to see you like this
Crying, wringing hands and cursing fate
Always so little far too late
It’s 3am I’m wide awake
There’s still one call to make
Now you saw it coming
And I saw it coming
We all saw it coming
But we still bought it
Now you saw it coming
And I saw it coming
But still running full steam
Now you saw it coming
And I saw it coming but still
Running full steam
They saw the poor living in cardboard shacks, so they knocked the shacks down and built projects. Huge blocks of cement and glass towered over asphalt parking lots. Somehow it wasn’t much like home. Even home in a shack. “What do you expect?” they asked impatiently. “You’re too poor to live like us until you can do better for yourselves, you should be grateful, shouldn’t you?”
The head said yes, but the heart said no.
They needed more electricity in the city, so they found a mountain stream to dam. As the waters rose, dead rabbits and deer floated by: baby birds too young to fly drowned in the nest while mother birds cried helplessly. “It’s not a pretty sight,” they said, “but now a million people can run their air conditioners all summer. That’s more important than one mountain stream, isn’t it?”
The head said yes, but the heart said no.
They saw oppression and terrorism in a far-off land, so they made war against it. Bombs reduced the country to rubble. Its population cowered in fear, and every day more villagers were buried in rough wooden coffins. “You have to be prepared to make sacrifices,” they said. “If some innocent bystanders get hurt, isn’t that just the price one must pay for peace?”
The head said yes, but the heart said no.
The years rolled by and they got old. Sitting in their comfortable houses, they took stock. “We’ve had a good life,” they said, “and we did the right thing.” Their children looked down and asked why poverty, pollution and war were still unsolved. “You’ll find out soon enough,” they replied. “Human beings are weak and selfish. Despite our best efforts, these problems will never really end.”
The head said yes, but the children looked into their hearts and whispered, “No!”
- From Dancing the Dream by Michael Jackson
My church is currently observing Lent – a season of spiritual discipline that leads up to Easter. We are encouraged to “give up” something during this time, apparently as a way to relate to the 40 days of temptation that Christ endured.
Although the denomination that I grew up in didn’t observe Lent, fasting and other forms of self-denial were commonplace. Regardless, the idea of denying myself something for an extended period of time every year feels both foreign and compelling.
I guess I like the idea more for carnal reasons than spiritual ones. I think it’s good to practice forms of self-discipline, whether that means pushing away the plate or turning off the television. Even so, in the four years that I’ve been attending my church, I have yet to participate in this tradition.
I think the main problem is that I can’t decide what to give up. Most of the things that people commonly abstain from seem downright silly. Surely giving up chocolate or soft drinks doesn’t really give one a deeper understanding of Jesus’ suffering, but I can appreciate how difficult it is to choose something meaningful.
Ash Wednesday, the traditional start of Lent, was last week, but I’m still trying to figure out what I’m going to abstain from. Maybe my hesitancy is evidence that I don’t want to give up anything, because deep down, I really don’t. I don’t want to stop checking Facebook every ten minutes. I don’t want to quit Dr. Pepper, or stop watching “Big Love,” or order a salad instead of french fries.
But I guess that’s the point. Jesus went through hell in order to enlighten the world and save humanity. Surely I can give up something I really like for a few days.
