Mairsy Dotes

"No faith is as solid as a wounded faith."

Sitting on the dock of the bay… July 31, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — beege @ 10:15 pm

Or something like that. 🙂

I’m outta here for my weekend–no men, no kids. How is that I love my family to distraction, can’t imagine my life without them, long for them when I’m apart from them, but still get a little shivery thrill at the idea of a weekend without them?

I’m bringing Tylenol PM. NOTHING is keeping me awake this weekend. 🙂 I’ve picked up some gourmet chocolate so we can have an impromptu chocolate tasting. I’ve got chocolate with peppers and cinnamon in it; chocolate with espresso, chicory, and something else in it; chocolate with black sesame seeds, ginger, and wasabi in it; and chocolate with bacon in it.

I could SERIOUSLY be testing my “bacon makes everything taste better” motto. I roll those flavors around on my tongue, and I just can’t figure out a way to make them go together in a way that makes me think, “Oh, yes. GOOD.” So: we’ll see. I’ll bring back a full report.

I pick up my rental car tomorrow (I can’t even tell you how hard it was to not rent a convertible!), my “pastor paycheck” so I’ve got some moolah, wine so I can be pleasantly buzzed without worrying about who’s keeping tabs on my chirrens, and then I hit the open road.

Peace be with y’all! I’ll be back in a few days! ;D

 

Please think of some witty, interesting title, and insert it here July 29, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — beege @ 10:40 am

I’m just feeling sort of blah.

I’ve been doing a TON of pulpit supply at a church that has a vacancy. Like every Saturday and Sunday since mid-June, I’ve been there (with the exception of our vacation) preaching and leading worship. The people LOVE me. And I have to think that the senior pastor, who’s absence I’ve been helping to fill, would know that with a vacancy and an entire summer of face-time with the congregation, I’d be the front runner for the associate pastor position he’s got open. I’d love the call, and I miss pastoring so much it’s nearly painful to admit it. These weeks in the pulpit have been like heaven. But, naturally, because this is life, there are snags.

  1. This is actually the church that M and I joined in January. So if they ask me to submit my name for the position, and I do, and they decide they don’t want me, I’d probably have to leave the congregation. It would be too weird to have put myself out there that far, and then be rejected. And it would be awkward for whoever DID get the job, knowing that most of the congregation wanted me for it–and I’m sitting there every Sunday morning with my gorgeous babies.
  2. I’ve had the total honeymoon pastoring experience. I’ve gotten to preach and lead worship. Because of my crazy-ass work schedule, the pastoral care piece has fallen to others. Which means I haven’t gotten any of the middle of the night phone calls from people who want to kill themselves, I haven’t had to sit at a deathbed, I’ve not had to do any funerals. I also didn’t have to go to any of the council meetings, deal with any of the politics, or wonder about who’s gunning for me. I basically got to do the two things I love most about being a pastor, and none of the stuff I loathe about being a pastor. Why is this a snag? Because I miss it, but I also know that this was NOT a realistic picture of what a pastor does.
  3. It’s made me REALLY dissatisfied with my job at Fashion Emporium. Really. Reallyreallyreallyreallyreally dissatisfied. I’m bored, I’m not particularly interested in persuing any training that would make me eligible for a promotion because I don’t WANT a promotion within this company–but how do you tell your boss that, who is grooming you for the next step? You can’t. Because then you don’t look like a team player, and if the church doesn’t pan out, I’m stuck here, still selling pants, trying to help support my family.

I’ve got my girls weekend coming up this weekend (if Clover ever emails me directions ;)). I’m excited, but M will be home alone with the girls, we’ve had some big bills come due so we aren’t exactly rolling in the extra income right now, and I’m wondering if this is really a good time for me to take off and have a weekend (not that the weekend is going to be horribly expensive…but still more expensive than staying home). M told me that he’s not giving me a choice. I’m going, and I’m using the extra $$ we made doing the pulpit supply to finance the venture–since that wasn’t money we’d planned on or budgeted for. He’s a good man, and loves me more than I deserve.

I don’t know. I’m in a weird mood. Not a bad one. Not a complainy one. Maybe cautious? Don’t know. I think maybe I need a weekend away. 🙂

 

This story broke my heart July 21, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — beege @ 11:06 pm

In regards to my previous post.

Act 3.

Yeah…keeping this war going? REALLY helps support our troops. Bringing them home would certainly be a bad idea. Much better to keep them over there where where they can witness things that make them do this.

Riiiiiiiiight.

 

I fucking hate this war. July 20, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — beege @ 11:16 pm

The other night, I had a customer come into the store. It was quiet…I’d sent my closing associate on her break, so it was just me and this customer.

She shared that she was looking for things to wear on vacation, so I asked her where she was going, and she shared, “Oahu.” After letting her browse for a few moments, I chattily asked her, “How long will you be on Oahu?”

Three and a half weeks.”

“Wow! That’s fabulous!”

She sort of made a noncommittal noise in her throat, and I let her be, figuring if she wanted to share whatever was going on in her life: she would.

(That’s that funny thing about my job. Sometimes people open up in the strangest ways–you’ll be helping them find a good fit in a pair of pants, and suddenly: they’re telling you all about how they’ve been diagnosed with cancer and they’re not sure they can go on, and you’re sharing this fitting room with a half naked stranger, and the only thing you know how to do is put your arms around them and let them cry it out.)

She cleared her throat, “My son is in the Marines. He’s stationed in Oahu, and he leaves in four weeks for Iraq.”

My hands stilled in their shirt folding, “I’m sorry. That’s got to be hard for you.”

It is. I mean, it’s his choice–when he told us when he was eighteen that he was going to join the Marines, I was furious. I screamed at him. He asked me to have his recruiter over for dinner, and I told him I’d die before I’d let that man in our house. In my mind, that recruiter was the biggest schiester–stealing our babies to fight in a war I didn’t believe we should be in. But over time: I accepted his decision.”

“It can’t have been easy, and it can’t be easy now though. I’ve got two little ones, and I’m scared to death for the day to come that I have to support them in something that could take them away from me forever. I know it will come. And I’m not sure I’ll be strong enough.”

She shrugged, “It’s his life. And the military is a good life–we were Navy for fifteen years, and it was the best life we could have had. They will have a good life. But his wife is having their first baby, a month after he leaves. As a parent I can’t even imagine not holding your baby for the first time until it six or seven months old! It breaks my heart. And the other thing that breaks my heart is the people that tell me, ‘Oh, this war is horrible–it’s just another Vietnam, and we shouldn’t be in it and we need to get out, and if the soldiers would just stop fighting it would all be over.’ It’s his job! How can they ask him not to do his job! Do they not realize that perhaps the soldiers that are being sent over don’t support the war either–but they go because it’s what they do?”

She was getting pretty distraught, so I moved closer to her, “Of course he’s doing his job–he’s fulfilling his calling. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in that.”

She nodded, sighed, straightened her shoulders and said, “You’re right. I wish more people understood that. We’ll go to Oahu, and have our time with him, and then we’ll let him go. We have to.”

I nodded in sympathy, “Tell him we say ‘thank you’ for me, will you?”

At this point, she started to cry, and sort of fell into my arms. “The only thing that makes this bearable is people like you, who understand how hard this is, and how none of us have any choice in it. We just have to do what we can to get through.”

Already sort of pushed to my emotional edge by this mother’s pain, her tears moved me to tears as well. So we stood there in the store, held each other, and cried for a moment. Then she stood up, thanked me, said, “Now I have to go over to Starbucks and get a drink. I’m sorry. I’m not usually like that.”

I told her not to apologize, that I didn’t mind a bit. She turned and left the store. I don’t know who she was. She wasn’t a “regular”. But just the fact that I got to have this moment with a stranger, who was a sister in motherhood, makes me fucking hate this war.

I hope her boy gets to hold his baby. And I hope that when the time comes, she finds the strength to send her baby to war with a smile and a wave. And I hope that when he’s out of sight: she has someone to hold her while she falls apart.

 

Trying to get something started… July 18, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — beege @ 11:40 pm

So, Mojavi had an idea to generate traffic to our blogs. Me? I don’t really pay attention much to how many comments I get, although I certainly appreciate it when people come by, read, comment, and occasionally deepen the discussion/brain fart/whatever that I’ve posted. I blog because I have to, because even if no one in the world read a single word that I’ve written, I’d still be here: writing Mairsy Dotes, because it keeps me sane.

But Mojavi is preggers, and you know: humor the preggo lady. 😉 Plus, maybe it will cause us to find some new people to connect with–and sweet merciful Jesus knows: I couldn’t survive without my “blog buddies”. I love you guys. 🙂

So….a blog that I especially enjoy. Well, I read Mojavi every day (or just about) but she picked me as her choice, so I’ll pick someone different from my blogroll. I love Garish and Tweed. I don’t take the time to comment as often as I should, but I adore Jessmonster’s writing style, her way with words, her deep affection for books, her love of cooking, and her photography skills. I’ve written before about her fabulous red couch, and everytime I read her blog, I feel like I’m snuggled into her couch, with a blankie and a mug of tea, and a fabulous book–it feels just cozy. Some of the best things I cook, I got the recipe for off her blog. Plus, she’s Orthodox Christian–a tradition that I find fascinating and beautiful, and a little alien. So go check out Jessmonster. Maybe, if you’re lucky, she’ll whip up some Lipstick Granolacruncher cookies while you’re there. 😉

I clicked on Bread and Jam for Frances because I loved that book when I was a little girl. I like the rhythm of them, and the illustrations were just so cunning that I instinctively loved them. When I clicked on it, I found out it belongs to a lovely young woman named Bronwyn–I think I’ve read her blog before, but I could be wrong–who has a sense of humor I appreciate (I loved the private investigator photos!). She seems like someone who gets to go on adventures, and collect people named “Jess” while she’s at it. Not a bad collection to have, I shouldn’t think. 🙂

So now, if you want to keep the momentum going, go visit mojavi, and link to her site; then write about your favorite blogger (or one of your faves…for me, it was hard to choose!) and link to them; then link to someone on their blogroll, and that someone needs to be new for you. Got that? I think I do! 🙂

 

A Great Night July 16, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — beege @ 11:44 am

Last night was a gorgeous night. The beauty of a high desert night is (for me, anyway) well worth the scorching temperatures of a high desert day. Once the sun goes down, the temperature drops…frequently, a cool breeze will spring up. You can smell the russian olive trees, and sagebrush on the wind. It’s heaven.

My folks went outside to do some yardwork after dinner last night. After they were done, they sat on their deck chairs and visited. I joined them after the girls were in bed. We ended up sitting out there, chatting, until nearly midnight. We chatted the sun down and the moon up. We laughed. We planned. We talked about things that had happened years ago. Dad kept bringing out beer, and when my baby brother got home from work last night: he joined us.

It was just one of those nights that don’t come along very often. You can’t plan them, or plan for them. You can’t try for them, or expect them. They just fall into your lap like a gift. 

The sound of the neighbors sprinklers fizzing…our soft laughter floating over the fences…the soggy “thwock” of our dog’s drool soaked tennis ball hitting the patio when we threw it for her…the scent of my mother’s roses surrounding us, with the occasional wafting addition of the lavender that grows under my bedroom window…a sky full of stars and a full moon.

Perfect.

 

An update on the Little Monsters July 11, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — beege @ 10:58 pm

And by “little monsters” I mean all y’all.

You have your own personal monster icons. Granted, I don’t have tons of you commenting (I’ve got a small but loyal following, for which I’m grateful), but none of you have shared the same lil monster, and you’re always the same one.

Which, I think, is rather cool. 🙂