Up and down...

Much has happened, some of it unbloggable, some important at the time and minor now, some of it providing fodder for thought, some to celebrate…a mixed bag.

I’ve been gifted with a trip to Capital City of Capital Cities, to visit friends and TO. Rejoice, again I say, rejoice! I will have a week to do little but visit loved ones, catch up on their lives and catch them up on mine, spend time with a couple of emerging friendships, and relax. Praises for friends and a capable Board (which allows me to be out of town for a week and over a Sunday without heartburn)!

I have also been gifted (or will be) with the means to take care of some debts. These have been eating at me, and from time to time keeping me from full focus on ministry. This gift, totally unexpected and completely selfless on the part of the giver, will free me from some mundane worries. Praises again!

And one more gift—a friend is sharing her cottage with me for day tomorrow. I hadn’t realized how much I needed a day completely off until she made the offer and it sounded like heaven—eight hours away from phones, cell phones, and yes, even my computer. Because the truth is, if I’m around any of those, I feel like there’s something I should be doing.

We all know how ministry is—there’s always something we can/should be doing. “Is the sermon written and the service ready for this Sunday (HAH!)? Then what about a start on next Sunday, just in case there’s a crisis? And besides, it will let me be more creative, work harder on the sermon. Or what about updating those PowerPoint backgrounds? I’ve been meaning to do that. Of course, I haven’t finished the pastor’s report for the month…the liturgy for Pride Sunday…the readings for the next couple of months…” You know that conversation with yourself, if you’re a pastor, you’ve probably had it or one like it.

Strong Heart, in searching for a new apartment, made sure to get one with two bedrooms—she wants a study with a door she can close. Wise woman, as I have said many times… It would probably help my sanity to move my laptop back up to the study instead of leaving it in the dining room, too…

Anyway, there is much that is good in my life right now. Celebrate!

There are two sadnesses. One is minor, and one is larger, but together they pushed me to think about what is really important in my life.

My mother’s brother, the one just younger than her, is terminally ill with cancer. He will be the first loss among the eight siblings, and she is having difficulty with this. It doesn’t help that her late husband (my step-father) died as a result of the same kind of cancer, and at about this time of year. I am concerned for my mother—I don’t know my uncle well, we were closer to others of my uncles growing up, so of course I am concerned for my cousins, but more so for my mother. This is the larger sorrow.

The minor one… Last summer, Strong Heart and I set up a “bistro’ on the front porch—little table, a couple of chairs, a nice BBQ grill. We used it often. She’d have dinner finishing up on the grill for me when I got back from Sister City; we’d have coffee out there in the mornings; or beer and conversations with the denizens of the Little Yellow House. This summer, the Professor, who now works (and soon will live!) down the street, has stopped by for a beer and conversation a few times. We sat at the table and talked about the joys and worries and frustrations and hopes we had. I would grill for myself and eat in the sunshine, reading a good book.

All that is over… Someone came along with bolt cutters and took the table and chairs.

They weren’t that fancy—nice, to be sure, and comfortable and good-looking. As Strong Heart says, clearly we have taste! But there’s no real value to them—they can’t be resold as a bicycle or car or computer could. I’m more upset by the symbolic loss than the actual loss. If I really want a table, I can go get another one. But that one…that had memories attached to it—of Strong Heart and I, of friends gathered in laughter, of good books, of rest at the end of a long day. It’s not the monetary value, it’s the heart value.

My prayer (arrived at after some heartburn and sorrow, lest you think me a plaster saint) is that those who took the table and chairs enjoy them as much as my friends and I did.

Well, onward and upward, my friends. I’m off to the cottage tomorrow!

Skin Art, Obsessional Division, Subsection One

Six days, four hours, forty minutes!

Skin Art, Obsessional Division

One week. Whoo hoo! Only seven days! And 7 hours. I am so ready!

Still have: several days of work, a haircut/colour, an anniversary celebration, a pre-wedding session, a sermon, two meetings and a Bible study to get through first.

Seven days, 6 hours, 45 minutes!

Skin Art, Part…Whatever

Two weeks today. I’m looking forward to it; I’m nervous. I can’t wait.

I mentioned that I was getting a tattoo to some friends over the holidays, and was surprised at some of the responses. One friend, whose father had always regretted his Navy-acquired tattoos, warned me about those regrets, especially considering where I plan on having it done (on my chest, about where a pendant would hang). Another, fairly conservative friend, was dead against it. Yet another shrugged. TO was impressed (he hates needles and wouldn’t get a tattoo if his life depended on it—the last time he got an immunization, he fainted), as was Travelling Sister. I haven’t mentioned it to Mom yet.

And then one friend—Honest Lawyer—was very enthusiastic. HL is one of those friends I see maybe twice a year (we don’t live near each other any more), but every time we do get together, our connection is still there and we can talk about anything at all, pick up the threads of our last conversation and carry on. We can be very honest with each other (she really pushed me, this last visit, to think about some things in a different light), and yet we shared some intensive experiences that meant we know parts of each other in ways no one else ever will. Anyway, she was very supportive and excited about it—she wants a photo of it the moment it’s done (ah, the joys of camera phones and photo messaging!).

And Man About Town is almost as excited as I am. It’s on his calendar!

But in the meantime, there’s a board meeting, an anniversary celebration, preparations to make for a presentation at a national conference in Sister City, and one or two sermons to write. Among the usual other stuff of life, like renewing health cards and getting groceries and doing laundry and putting up pictures…

Only two weeks!!

Coda (which it doesn't fit either post but is interesting and an update)

Remember back in September I decided to get some skin art, inspired by Will Smama? And remember how the first appointment I could get was in January, and how I told them that if something came open earlier to call me?

Well, nothing's come open. And in talking to Man About Town the other day (he's a cousin of the artist), I learned that the wait time is now SIX FREAKIN' MONTHS! I feel lucky I only had to wait three.

And still excited by it--can't wait....January 23, 2008...

Two Weeks?!

Holy Advent, Batman! Has it really been two weeks since I blogged? Yikes...

Well, I will resist going back to the book I really would like to read (and highly recommend: "Odd Girls and Twilight Lovers: A History of Lesbian Life in Twentieth Century America" by Lillian Faderman) to update you (yes, all ten or so of you!). There's been lots happening here in River City!

First, my ex, Army Guy, in a truly blessed moment of generosity, bought me a plane ticket to go to Big Capitol City and visit my son and friends after Christmas. He knows my financial situation (see below) and felt this was the best way to get TO and I together for the holidays. He didn't have to; but he did. And the interesting thing is, it's helped me heal some of the resentment I was (and am, a little) still feeling toward him. The most difficult part was moving past my pride to what's best for TO and our relationship (and thank you, Brit Boy, for the kick in the a** needed there). And blessings to Army Guy for seeing that need and rising to the occasion.

Second, my finances were/are in some distress--this is a part-time pulpit and I don't have a partner to help with some more income; I don't have a trust fund; heck, I didn't even have another job. That's right--"didn't have." I do now, in another church of our denomination not too far away (not, however, as pastor). With the combined salaries, I'll be OK. Added bonuses: closer ties between the two churches; with one salary in US dollars and the other in Canadian, I'll be OK no matter what the exchange rate is (and it's been weird lately); I can regularly shop in US stores for those things I can't seem to find in Canada (sweet pickles, Pounce for the felines, L'eggs hose, etc.); a US-based chequing account makes sense again, and will be so useful; and access to some of my favourite stores/restaurants on the planet in the GLBT area near the church (OK, the last may be detrimental to the paycheque, true).

Third, a young woman I knew through the church (hereinafter known as Roomie) is returning to River City for schooling, and needs a room. Guess what? I have a bedroom I'm not using . Congenial company and a bit more income.

Fourth, a dear friend from seminary and his partner are making it possible for me to attend a denominational conference next year. Because they live near the conference site, I'll be able to stay with them, and therefore actually visit with them. Icing on the cake? They're using their frequent flier miles to upgrade me to first class for the trip.

Fifth, Brit Boy let me know how much he values our friendship in words that touched me deeply. I knew how much his friendship meant to me; now I have an idea what it means to him. He had so better invite me to a certain event (involving a pretty young lady and a church) next year!

I am feeling so very very blessed in my friends these days. I don't think I'm a better or kinder or more loving friend than anyone else they know--but these wonderful people are all giving and giving to me. Army Guy, Roomie, Cali Pastor, Piano Man, RDQ, Man About Town, The Professor, RED, The Stylist, Brit Boy, The Small Church Cabal, Monsieur, Guitar Lady, Denizens of the Yellow House, the Campers--all have been very present and loving for me. I can only say, "Thank you, God, for these wonderful loving friends through whom your Presence is made known in my life. They have taught me the meaning of grace."

Self Care in the Form of Ink

Will Smama, over at Preacher, blogger or procrastinator, is brilliant. She's getting some skin art next week and her posts about the journey toward that event are labelled "self care."

I like it.

I've been toying with the idea of a tattoo for a long time. More seriously since I've been single. I went so far as to actually consult with an artist a couple months ago. The good news? He knew exactly what I wanted--the triquetra symbol--and felt able to design one in rainbow colours. He was enthusiastic about it, in fact. The bad news? The location I had in mind (over my heart--well not literally, but on my chest; a root chakra), it turns out, would be painful, as there is not much padding there. Apparently, the bonier the location, the more pain. I never thought I would 1) hear that I don't have enough padding somewhere, and 2) have a complete stranger prodding that area of my anatomy in a public place.

We discussed some alternatives--other locations--but since it is a symbol of the Trinity, it doesn't seem right to put it where I have the most padding (ahem). But not on my shoulder, either, really, as I would like to see it myself. I'd also like it to be somewhere I can cover it if needed--hopefully a rare event, but still. So my wrist is out. The ankle doesn't feel right, either, or my calf or shoulder blade (suggestions from friends). Perhaps the shoulder blade. But I wouldn't see it. Maybe my shoulder.

So. This is my choice: perfect location/more pain or not-so-great location/less pain.

Part of me says, "Suck it up, be strong. Show you can be tough. Other people do it, you can do it too. Do you want Man About Town [my main supporter and encouragment in this endeavour] to think you're wimping out? (etc.)" Part of me shrieks and wants to hide.

Currently I'm leaning toward the perfect location.

Thoughts?