Spacelady Resurfaces

Sorry to steal a Dooce-ism, but I owe you an apology, Internet. You've been neglected and downright ignored for far too long, and I'm sorry. Sorry that my online peeps have had to come here looking for an update and instead seen nothing but rusty mailboxes day after day. Can I confess something? I've been slacking off on more things than just blog posting. My Project 365 photo challenge? I haven't taken a single photograph in well over three weeks. And I'm not even sorry about that. My exercise regime? Nonexistent as of late. Matt and I went swimming the other night and I swear I thought my lungs would collapse after two laps. My bathroom floor? Thick with toilet paper dust bunnies (why does toilet paper generate so much dust?). Truly, it's a sad and pathetic state of affairs. On top of that I just haven't . . . well . . . how do I say this nicely? The truth is I just haven't felt like talking to you, Internet. Blogging hasn't turned out to be like what I expected it to be. I thought I'd feel free to rant and wax philosophical and be funny and deep and sincere--all the things I'd like to think I am at the truest core of me. But instead I've come to view this blog as yet another place where I need to censor myself. Be careful what I say and how I say it, because who knows who's reading it? I don't worry about the people I don't know at all who somehow found me here in my little corner of the web, or the friends-of-friends or distant acquaintances. But what about my parents? A coworker? Friends? Will they be offended? Think I'm full of myself or hateful or unkind? Or, worse yet, affected and insincere? And another thing, Internet? I'm not a very trusting person. I'm pretty guarded and private, actually, and have always been extremely careful about who I let splash around with me in my kiddie pool of neuroses, fears, traumas, and even joys, successes, and spiritual insights. So I'm just not sure I'm capable of opening up to you, Internet, and really being myself. This last year has been one of the most transformative and spiritually enlightening of my entire existence, yet I haven't shared any of that here. I wonder if I could, or if I even want to. Because do I really want to deal with all the people in my life who read this blog knowing that much about what I'm thinking and feeling and then commenting on it whenever I see or talk to them? Maybe the only way I could be that honest is if I started a new totally anonymous blog and told not a single soul that it was mine. Just put it out there, and if people stumbled upon it and connected with something I had to say and wanted to comment or dialogue about things, then great. But if not, so what? On the other hand, I think that kind of blog has already existed for eons, and it's called "a diary."

Belated Yet Still Heartfelt Thanks...

...go out to all those who sponsored me at the Annual MS Walk that Matt and I participated in two weeks ago! I easily surpassed my fundraising goal, and our little team of four raised almost $2000 for Multiple Sclerosis research and services for people living with the disease. People like my fabulously brave and smart and funny friend, Barbara. It was a beautiful day in sunny Pasadena--a little overcast and not too hot, which was lovely. So the actual walk itself was pleasant and not very strenuous--although it was a little bit more work for Matt, who was sweet enough to push Barbara's wheelchair most of the time. (My husband has mutual platonic lovefests with so many of my closest friends! It makes me feel truly happy and blessed to know that he loves my favorite people almost as much as I do, and they love him back. But then again, how could they not?) Seeing men and women with canes and walkers along the route, slowly making their way along but determined to do it on their own two legs--however unstable and wobbly--was not only inspiring but convicting. I mean, how often do we acknowledge and thank God for the simple fact that our bodies work the way they're supposed to? That they get us from place to place and process the food we eat? Usually I only notice my body when something's not working right or--more commonly--when I don't like the way it looks. Shame on me. But thank You, Lord, for my health. Praise God! Getting back at the topic on hand...this is Barbara's brother, Reynold--another special friend of ours. I've actually known Reynold longer than I have Matt, and I love him so much that I could have married him. That is, if he wasn't, well, into guys. I made him put on his commemorative MS Walk t-shirt, even though it was too small so that I could take a picture of him and Barbara together. After he squeezed into it, he asked, "Does this look gay?" Yes, yes it did. But then he had to get out of said too-small shirt, which proved to be a bit of a challenge.









Yes, we laughed at his expense. A lot.

Thoroughly Chastised

God has a way of hitting me over the head with things sometimes. But I can't complain, because more times than not I really deserve it.

I have a ton to get done at the office today, and this morning nothing was going right. I kept getting interrupted by the phone (one good call from a friend and all the others annoying), and then I couldn't access the work website to write the e-newsletter or do my updates for December--which, of course, is the number one most important thing I need to get done today. (It's still not working, by the way.) So I was in a cruddy mood when a coworker popped her head in my office doorway to tell me that we were having an impromptu staff meeting to hear David Jeremiah speak to us. I know who he is through my work, of course, but I don't listen to his radio program or watch him on tv. He's also the pastor of a huge megachurch down in San Diego.

Ugh. This was the last thing I wanted to do. So I went into the lunchroom with a bad attitude, annoyed that I had no advance notice, miffed that some people were acting like we were about to be blessed by a visit from Christ Himself, and just pissy in general because--in all honesty--I thought I knew what he was going to talk about, and frankly I just wasn't in the mood for more mutual back-patting, meaningless antecdotes about the (now deceased) founder of my organization, and empty chatter about how important our work is blah blah blah . . .

Sure enough, he started with a bunch of "I remember when . . ." stories about our founder, and internally I rolled my eyes and stewed, thinking about those darned web updates. But then the unthinkable happened: He started talking about something relevant. And meaningful. And--dare I say it--different from what we usually hear around these parts. His talk was all about how Bible-teaching churches have focused all their energy on fulfilling the Great Commission (that is, teaching the gospel message at home and abroad) and have pretty much ignored the Great Commandment (to love God above everything else and to love your neighbor as yourself [Matthew 22:37-40]). This spoke to me right where I live lately, trying to find a balance between being a student of the Word and at the same time be of some earthly good to other people in need.

We may not be saved by good works (salvation is by grace alone), but we're saved for good works! The world should be able to look at what we do, hear what we say, examine our bank accounts, monitor our free time and from all of that know that we're Christians. As believers we're not supposed to hole ourselves up in our towers of biblical knowledge. We're supposed to be out on the street feeding the poor, clothing the naked, nursing the sick, etc. I know all of this, but I've got to say it was refreshing to hear it coming from a solid, conservative, Southern Baptist (can you believe it???) Bible preacher.

He's just published a book on the subject called Signs of Life: Back to the Basics of Authentic Christianity, and he gave us all signed copies. It's a series of 40 mini-lessons on living a life marked by "relevancy, surrender, authenticity, generosity, and compassion" and, in so doing, transforming yourself, your community, and our nation. Imagine that--Christians mingling with and thinking about people outside of their circle of church friends!

So ok, Lord, consider me thoroughly chastised. Yet again I vow to not doubt You in the future. But You know as well as I that I will. Sigh.