I Now Pronounce You: Bitter and Sarcastic

You'd think me less conscious of self than most, with this here appearance of bravery, putting ink to paper for public consumption in book form. But it is untrue. The fact is I'm writing this while sitting safely at a table NOT looking at you. Our eyes have no chance of meeting for me to see your disapproval. David Crowder, Praise Habit

So, that is exactly why I write. And I wrote the following story after going to a friend's wedding the other weekend. Then I was asked if it could be emailed to a distribution list at my church - this horrid story that exposes my pathetically loserish self in all of its bitter splendor! Thank God for the anonymity of the internet. For those of you who do know me personally, please don't make disapproving eye contact the next time we meet. Despite popular belief, I am quite the fragile flower:

I Now Pronounce You: Bitter and Sarcastic
"So, this weekend I went to a wedding at the beach. It was beautiful. Like a movie. The ceremony took place on the sand mere inches from the ocean waves. The groom and his boys wore casual attire and sported bare feet, much to the envy of all the other married men in the crowd who had been forced into restrictive shoes and tight bow-ties for their nuptials. The bride was the reason for the phrase "a vision in silk". Her billowy dress had it's own zip code. The weather was all you could dream for an outdoor September wedding. As they said their own sweetly written vows, happy tears ran down their cheeks. Kleenex was being passed quickly around the crowd. It was lovely and wonderful, but if I'm honest, part of me just wanted to peal out of the parking lot, drive home to bed and hide under the covers.

"Don't get me wrong. I am happy for my married friends. Marriage is a wonderful thing. And I've always adored weddings. I remember as a child, forcing my dad to play "Get Married" over and over again as I wore one of my mom's old slips around me as a dress, another over my hair a veil. But the warm, fuzzy feelings surrounding weddings have begun to dissolve in the last five years or so, because the plans I've laid out for my life have all included a family, and as of yet, it is not working out that way. And no matter how hard I try to rail against the feelings that rise up, it's a struggle to see others get what I want without experiencing that twinge of: 'When is it my turn?'

"Say what you like about the necessity of finding wholeness and completeness as a single, the Bible says in Genesis that God looked at Adam and saw that it was not good for man to be alone, so He created him a suitable partner. It. is. not. good. for. man. to. be. alone. Period. And there is something to be said for the subtle validation that comes with marriage. Because at the moment of proposal, someone looked at their significant other and said, " Of all the people on this earth, I - choose - YOU." And with over six billion people in this world, that is saying something. I know that we are to find our worth in God and not in people, and when I am focused on God, this all falls into place. But when I check the mail and happen upon another frickin' wedding invitation, I often feel the unrelenting urge to cram it into my blender and hit 'Puree' until it liquefies. Because in this jealous fit, I've lost focus of God and have glanced around at the world (which eerily begins to resemble Noah's ark with everyone paired up two by two), and all I am able to see is that she got chosen and he got chosen and they got chosen - and I begin to feel a little like the Cheese in the Farmer in the Dell, all alone and pathetic. Because no one has chosen me. And my mind begins to surmise it is because I have no worth or value or redeeming qualities of any kind and I will die alone surrounded only by my 100 mewling cats.

"I know that scripture says that we are God's people, a chosen people, called by name. But in this state, I would argue that God calls us all, wanting none of us to perish, so while I'm sure it is eternally significant, it doesn't feel too special to be a chosen along with everyone else who ever was or ever will be, especially when it's not tangible, when I can't see it or feel or have it right in front of me. So, yes, I am a child of God. But today I say to that, "Whoop-ti-doo," because today I feel more like a lonely child of God. And when lonely comes to visit, it's like sitting in a sauna, inhaling humid, weighty air, the thick vapors settling down into the pit of my lungs, each breath becoming more labored in this pulmonary compression, this slow suffocation. And oh, the relief that would resolve from sticking my head out into the normal air and getting one nice, full breath again! But I am trapped in this murkiness as I turn inward, towards these dark, self-serving thoughts.

"The one lifeline I have is that I've been in enough relationships to know something important - that the only thing that feels more lonely than not being in a relationship, is being in the wrong one. But that is hard to remember, driving home, alone, from another fairytale wedding. And so, today I have resigned myself to the luxury of a lavish pity party. All bitter and sarcastic singles are welcome to attend. Bah humbug!"

Finding God in the Herky Jerky

I was asked to write about 9/11. In doing so, I have realized it is very hard for me to write on a topic that is not my choice. :)

I will sacrifice a freewill offering to you; I will praise your name, O LORD, for it is good. Psalm 54:6

"So, I went for a jog around the lake on a beautiful, sunny afternoon last week. It was a gorgeous day, one of those perfect experiences that somehow becomes ingrained in your memory as a moment of total sensory satisfaction. The sun was shining at an angle in the sky that brilliantly lit up the day, yet the strategically-placed fluffy, white clouds graciously ricocheted its strong rays away from my delicate pupils. Its warmth spread across my skin, causing my arms and shoulders to radiate heat. But before it got too hot, a regulating breeze would stir, lifting the wisps of hair hanging from my ponytail, cooling my neck. And there was not a drop of humidity that day. (I think that is what heaven must be like - no humidity).

"As I ran, I took in my surroundings. I was jogging on a path canopied by beautiful summer foliage. If I was well-versed in horticulture, I would be able to say something poetic like: "The cream and crimson blooms of flowering dogwoods burst open like exploding fireworks, back dropped by the eastern redbuds and mulberry bushes dotting the landscape." But I'm not a botanist. And so, I did see trees and they had green leaves and brown trunks and they were stunningly beautiful, waving in the wind, seeming to greet me with a "Hello!" as I ran past.

"When I reached the bridge, I noticed the sun shining out across the lake, the light's reflections glittering on the surface like diamonds. To the left of me in the water I saw two Canadian geese, their heads forward and wings back, launching out of the lake in some kind of aviary drag race – from zero to airborne in 2.2 seconds. I saw people of every year, make and model, strolling and running and biking past me. My heart, buoyant by the day's beauty, brought a smile to my face as I passed each one and wished them well.

"On picture book days like this, even when dodging the occasional softserve-esque swirls of duck poo on the path, it is easy to see God and His goodness. It seems quite natural (albeit cheesy) to watch the dogs parading past: the pit bull (how wide), the dachshund (how long), the greyhound (how high), the mastiff (how deep-[voiced]), and be reminded of God's love for me (Eph 3:17-19). It seems simple to watch the black and yellow lizard with the electric blue tail zigzagging across the bridge railing and be filled with praise for the color and creativity of God. And when watching a gaggle of turtles congregating together on a log to soak up some sun, it is almost inclination, I believe, to thank God for making turtles, with their teeny, tiny, little turtle heads poking out of their army green, tiled shells, looking all cute and...uh...turtley? On days like this day, when everything seems so perfect and glorious, I remember the song Make a Joyful Noise, where David Crowder sings: "Every ocean, every sea, every river, every stream, every mountain, every tree, every blade of grass will sing…make a joyful noise to the Lord all the earth…" Because on days like this day around the lake, I can clearly see that this is indeed what creation does - creation sings out to their Creator, giving Him glory and praise, because this is what they were made for. At least it seems that way on good days.

"On the other side of the spectrum, there are the Very Bad Day Indeeds. Days when your own personal tragedy strikes, such as the loss of a loved one. Or maybe something global, where the world gets sucker punched and has the wind knocked out of it. And we collectively stop for a moment, to recover and learn to breathe again. Today is the fifth anniversary of one of those Very Bad Days. And during these kinds of days, it can become much harder for me to see God in the short-term. With the loss of lives and the fear that settles into each of us and the nagging question of WHY? But I think that after the initial shock of tragedy, people begin to unite in amazing ways, either over Elton John’s lyrical memorial to the Very Bad Day (just how many times can A Candle in the Wind be rewritten?) or more importantly, in the strength provided through their faith.

"I was not a Christian during 9/11. And I tried to calm myself by appealing to patriotism and activism, not having anything else to call on. Now that I am a believer, tragedy that strikes seems different than before. It can be hard for me to remember that God is here in the middle of a bombed building or a treacherous tsunami, but I know that scripture says that He will never leave us (Deut 31:6), and that He is good and all He does is good (Psalm 119). So, while I initially feel shaken, I eventually seem to arrive at the end of myself and my own attempts at control and my own ability to hope, and BOOM – there is God. And it feels comforting, almost, I dunno, noble (?) to maintain faith in the midst of great despair, in this resignation that while I might not understand, I choose to trust my God. But what it boils down to, is that even in the tragedy, I can usually, eventually, see God in the mix.

"But in an average life, I think the Very Good Days and the Very Bad Day Indeeds are not the norm. I think the majority of days are the Eh Days. The Blah Days. The "Time To Make the Donuts" days. These repetitive hamster-running-on-a-wheel churning 'round and 'round days. Dave Matthews writes about these days in his song Ants Marching: 'He wakes up in the morning. Does his teeth, bite to eat and he's rolling. Never changes a thing, the week ends, the week begins…' Oh, these days, these weeks, these months, these years. They begin to run together and I think God sometimes gets lost in the monotony.

"Or maybe the days that are even more disconcerting are the ones I wish were just boring. Instead, these are days filled not with life and death issues, but with the smaller unpleasentries that just begin to build: maybe you’ve got a job interview in an hour and your car won't start, or you accidentally sit down in melted chocolate while wearing light-colored pants and your backside looks like a Rorschach ink blot test, or you and your boyfriend break up, or it's picture day and you've woken up with two new craters on your face the size of Milwaukee, or you're running late and you’ve somehow managed to hit every red light between here and there, or you've got a cold and your nose is producing much more mucous than a nose should be able to manufacture, or you haven't had sleep in days and there is no end in sight. Days where even when I can manage to pull my sad self up off the couch to run around the lake, there is more duck poo in the path than not, and the clouds open wide (on purpose, I'm quite sure!), pouring down rivulets of rain which infiltrates my newly purchased 30GB video iPod, viciously intentional about killing and destroying each and every .mp3 in it's path. And it always seems to me during these times, that everyone else's lives are going just wonderfully, which makes my injustices seem all the more insulting. Well, on these days, momma ain't so happy. And momma starts to whine and complain. In the middle of days like this, I have somehow forgotten that God is still God, and that God is still good, because I have taken my attention off God and focused it all onto my sad, pathetic, victim self. 'Boo-hoo,' I say! 'Poor me!'

"But I guess the real challenge is to find God in these moments too. Because when all is said and done, despite the annoying car troubles, and your friends nicknaming you Miss Poo-Poo McChocolate Pants, and dealing with ex-boyfriend drama, and the unfairness of having to preserve in history the Day O' Massive OppoZits, and dodging poorly timed traffic lights, and tidal waves of snot, and lack-of-sleep hysteria, and duck-poo-scented shoes on your feet, and the sloshing sound of my iPod as I run, the truth, while sometimes hard to see, is that God is still in His heaven and all is (mostly) right with the world. I just wish I could remember that when in the thick of it.

"Psalm 54:6 says - I will sacrifice a freewill offering to you; I will praise your name, O LORD, for it is good. And I guess this is what I need to master - this ability to praise God always. Not just when life is perfect and it is easy to do. That is a habit learned early on in one’s walk because it is human nature to praise when things are good. And not just when life is so horrid that all our self-serving options have been taken away and God is all the hope we have left to cling to, although I’m sure that praise is mighty fine too. But instead, I want to better learn to praise God in the herky-jerky, when praise feels like a sacrifice, when life sorta stinks and I feel alone and un-unified in the fight and there is nothing God can do but shrug His shoulders and smile His knowing God smile and say all crypticly, 'My dear, you will never understand it in this lifetime.' And, so, it's in these moments when I most need to learn to call on my meager supply of faith, to suck it up, grit my teeth, hook my thumbs in the belt loops of my McChocolate pants and exclaim, 'LORD, I will praise your name, for it is GOOD!'"

*Author neither confirms or denies that \n she ever wore Poo-Poo McChocolate Pants.