Do Not Toast Walnuts in the Same Oven in Which You are Baking Fish

This is my personal proverb for the evening. Eating such walnuts is about as enjoyable as drinking a glass of orange juice right after you have brushed your teeth.

Happy Holy Thursday!

It's Holy Thursday (or Maundy Thursday) of Holy Week!Holy Week began last Sunday - Palm Sunday - with the commemoration of Christ's "triumphal" entrance into Jerusalem. (See John 12:12-17) Tonight is the anniversary of the night that Jesus instituted Holy Communion (or the Eucharist). This night He also instituted the priesthood during the Last Supper in which he gave His Apostles the authority to consecrate the elements for Communion. At the Masses being celebrated tonight, the priests will wash the feet of 12 men just as this night Christ washed the feet of His Apostles, even knowing that many of them would deny Him shortly thereafter during His passion. (See John 13:1-17.)

See Luke 22:1-38, Matthew 26:17-30, Mark 14:12-31, and John 12:12-18:11.

Long time no blog :-)

For many months now when I go forward to receive our Lord's body & blood in Communion, I have found myself praying, "Mary, thank you for saying 'yes' to God. Thank you for offering your body for the creation of the body of our Lord so that I may receive Him now. Help me to be like you in holiness, purity, and love and total surrender to our Lord."

This prayer organically sprung up from within me one day as I was in the Communion line and looking up realized that the church's lovely statue of Mary is directly behind where the priest stands and in my line of vision as I look ahead. I find this statue particularly beautiful; it is a welcome aid to my devotional thoughts on the historical reality of God's plan unfolding in human history and time through the lives of real people of day's past.

When receiving Christ's body, we are in a certain sense also receiving Mary's body. If (as the Church has held from the earliest days) the Eucharist is substantially, in essence, the actual body and blood of our Lord (although in it's accidental properties it remains bread) then we are consuming the body of Christ which was formed from Mary's flesh and no other person. It is an interesting thing to meditate upon. It just makes me appreciate her role and the special bond she must have felt with Jesus as she nurtured him, marveled at his growth in wisdom and grace, saw him begin His public ministry, saw him scourged and tortured, then encountered Him in His glorified, risen body. I find it very helpful to my own faith to try to view the Lord through her eyes, especially when contemplating His passion and the reality of the Eucharist.

Just this morning I was marveling at the gift of life which you and I have. (At least if you are reading this, I assume you are alive. :-) We get one shot, if you will, to live this life to the fullest. How we live here and now - in our particular time and place in human history, with our particular gifts, interests, family, and sphere's of influence and socialization - will affect how we live for eternity. It is a beautiful privilege. Life is so short; I do not want to squander it. I want to love well, and I want to be fully alive. I want to enjoy my time with those whom God has placed in my life, and to love them as best I can. I want to develop my mind to its fullest, and face things squarely as they are, and to face squarely the ability I may or may not have to change different things.

And lastly, I am very grateful that with God nothing is ever lost forever. A lover, a deceased loved one, innocence taken or given, youth and good times now become memories ... all continue to exist with God in an eternal present ... and if you and I will share eternity with Him, then we shall have all those things yet again in a fuller and permanent way.

So wherever we find ourselves today (i.e. unhappily single, up to our eyeballs in homework, in between jobs, in a financially precarious position, overwhelmed with the demands of being a parent, etc...), don't forget to lift up your anxiety, fears and dreams to God - however choppy or brief. He cares. "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." (Matt. 10:29-31) And realize that this is just one part of your story, your moment of privilege to be alive and trust in the Lord (and to act) as Our Lady did. This moment, although passing, matters in eternity. Pray for the ability to enjoy it for it is a moment that is shaping who you are and giving you an opportunity for faith and to love generously; it it will not remain forever.

May God bless you!
Natalie

**This post dedicated to "Pete" - a fellow blogger whom I do not know - who recently insulted my weblogging or lack there of. Thank you. :-)

My Roomie is OFF THA HOOK

Read her article for yourself!

:D

Blessings,
Natalie

Making Babies...Not Families

I just read this article written by a young woman conceived through an anonymous sperm donation insemination. She's very well spoken, and it's all very sad. It makes me think also about how children of same-sex couples likely will feel as they grow older. What a sad world we have made for ourselves. Here's the Washington Post article:

My Father Was an Anonymous Sperm Donor
By Katrina Clark
Sunday, December 17, 2006; B01

I really wasn't expecting anything the day, earlier this year, when I sent an e-mail to a man whose name I had found on the Internet. I was looking for my father, and in some ways this man fit the bill. But I never thought I'd hit pay dirt on my first try. Then I got a reply -- with a picture attached.

From my computer screen, my own face seemed to stare back at me. And just like that, after 17 years, the missing piece of the puzzle snapped into place. The puzzle of who I am.

I'm 18, and for most of my life, I haven't known half my origins. I didn't know where my nose or jaw came from, or my interest in foreign cultures. I obviously got my teeth and my penchant for corny jokes from my mother, along with my feminist perspective. But a whole other part of me was a mystery.

That part came from my father. The only thing was, I had never met him, never heard any stories about him, never seen a picture of him. I didn't know his name. My mother never talked about him -- because she didn't have a clue who he was.

When she was 32, my mother -- single, and worried that she might never marry and have a family -- allowed a doctor wearing rubber gloves to inject a syringe of sperm from an unknown man into her uterus so that she could have a baby. I am the result: a donor-conceived child.
And for a while, I was pretty angry about it.

I was angry at the idea that where donor conception is concerned, everyone focuses on the "parents" -- the adults who can make choices about their own lives. The recipient gets sympathy for wanting to have a child. The donor gets a guarantee of anonymity and absolution from any responsibility for the offspring of his "donation." As long as these adults are happy, then donor conception is a success, right?

Not so. The children born of these transactions are people, too. Those of us in the first documented generation of donor babies -- conceived in the late 1980s and early '90s, when sperm banks became more common and donor insemination began to flourish -- are coming of age, and we have something to say.

I'm here to tell you that emotionally, many of us are not keeping up. We didn't ask to be born into this situation, with its limitations and confusion. It's hypocritical of parents and medical professionals to assume that biological roots won't matter to the "products" of the cryobanks' service, when the longing for a biological relationship is what brings customers to the banks in the first place.

We offspring are recognizing the right that was stripped from us at birth -- the right to know who both our parents are. And we're ready to reclaim it.

Growing up, it didn't matter that I don't have a dad -- or at least that is what I told myself. Just sometimes, when I was small, I would daydream about a tall, lean man picking me up and swinging me around in the front yard, a manly man melting at a touch from his little girl. I wouldn't have minded if he weren't around all the time, as long as I could have the sweet moments of reuniting with his strong arms and hearty laugh. My daydreams always ended abruptly; I knew I would never have a dad. As a coping mechanism, I used to think that he was dead. That made it easier.

I've never been angry at my mother -- all my life she has been my hero, my everything. She sacrificed so much as a single mother, living on food stamps, trying to make ends meet. I know that many people considered her a pioneer, a trailblazer for a new offshoot of the women's movement. She explained to me when I was quite young why it was that I didn't have a "dad," just a "biological father." I used to love to repeat that word -- biological -- because it made me feel smart, even though I didn't understand its implications.

Then when I was 9, the mother of one of my classmates ran for political office. I remember seeing a television ad for her, and her family appeared at the end -- the complete nuclear household in the back yard, the kids playing on a swing suspended from a tree and eating their father's barbeque. I looked back at my lonely, tired mother, who sat there with a weak smile on her face.

In the middle of the fifth grade, I met a new friend, and we had a lot in common: We both had single mothers. Her mother had suffered through two divorces. My friend didn't have much to say about her dad, mainly because she knew so little about him. But at least she got to visit him and his new family. And I was jealous. Later, in the eighth grade, another friend's father had an affair and her parents divorced. She was in so much pain, and I tried to empathize for the loss of her dad. But I was jealous of her, too, for all the attention she was getting. No one had ever offered me support or sympathy like that.

Around this time, my mother and I moved in with a friend and -- along with several other teenagers, one infant and some other adults -- lived with her for nearly a year. I went through a teenage anger stage; I would stay in my room, listening to Avril Lavigne and to Eminem's lyrics of broken homes and broken people. I felt broken, too. All the other teenagers in the house had problems with their dads. I would sit with them through tears during various rough times, and then I'd go back to my room and listen to some more Eminem. I was angry, too, and angry that I had nowhere to direct my anger.

When my mother eventually got married, I didn't get along with her husband. For so long, it had been just the two of us, my mom and I, and now I felt like the odd girl out. When she and I quarreled, this new man in our lives took to interjecting his opinion, and I didn't like that. One day, I lost my composure and screamed that he had no authority over me, that he wasn't my father -- because I didn't have one.

That was when the emptiness came over me. I realized that I am, in a sense, a freak. I really, truly would never have a dad. I finally understood what it meant to be donor-conceived, and I hated it.

It might have gone on this way indefinitely, but about a year ago I happened to see a television show about a woman who had died of a heart attack. A genetic disease had caused her heart to deteriorate, but she didn't know about her predisposition because she had been adopted as a baby and didn't know her biological families' medical histories. It hit me that I didn't know mine, either. Or half of it, at least.

So I began to research Fairfax Cryobank, the Northern Virginia sperm bank where my mother had been inseminated. I knew that sperm donors are screened and tested thoroughly, but I was still concerned. The bank had been established in 1986, a mere two years before my conception. Many maladies have come to light since then.

I e-mailed the bank five times over the course of a year, requesting medical information about my donor, but no one responded. Then one Friday last spring, I started surfing the Web. Eventually I came upon an archive of "Oprah" shows. One was a show about artificial insemination using anonymous donors. A girl perched on Oprah's couch. Next to her sat her "donor," the man who was her biological father.

I froze. Why hadn't I thought of that? If I wanted medical information and a sense of roots, who better to seek out than the man responsible for them?

I set out to find my own donor. From the limited information my mother had been given -- his blood type, race, ethnicity, eye and hair color and hair texture; his height, weight and body build; his years of college and course of study -- I concluded that he had probably graduated from a four-year university in Northern Virginia or the District within a span of three years. Now all I had to do was search through the records and yearbooks of all the possible universities and make some awkward phone calls. I figured if I worked intensely enough, my search would take a minimum of 10 years. But I was ready and willing.

A few days later, searching for an online message board for donor-conceived people, I came across a donor and offspring registry. Scanning past some entries for more recent donors, I spotted a donation date closer to what I was looking for. I e-mailed the man who had posted the entry. A few days later he sent a warm response and attached a picture of himself. I read through his pleasant words and scrolled down to look at the photo. My breath stopped. I called for my mother, who rushed in, thinking something was terribly wrong. "I think I've found my biological father," I gasped between sobs. "Look at the picture. . . .That's my face."

After a few weeks of e-mailing, this stranger and I took DNA tests. When the results arrived, I tore open the envelope, feeling like a character in a soap opera. Most of the scientific language went over my head, but I understood one fact more clearly than I have ever understood anything in my life: There was, the letter said, a 99.9902 percent chance that this man was my father. After 17 years, I let out a long sigh.

I had found the man who had given me blue eyes and blond hair. And it had taken me only a month.My life has changed since then. Once the initial disbelief that I had found my father wore off, my thoughts turned to all the other donor-conceived kids out there who have been or will be holding their breath much longer than I. My search for my father had been unusually successful; most offspring will look for many, many years before they succeed, if they ever do.

My heart went out to those others, especially after I participated in a couple of online groups. When I read some of the mothers' thoughts about their choice for conception, it made me feel degraded to nothing more than a vial of frozen sperm. It seemed to me that most of the mothers and donors give little thought to the feelings of the children who would result from their actions. It's not so much that they're coldhearted as that they don't consider what the children might think once they grow up.

Those of us created with donated sperm won't stay bubbly babies forever. We're all going to grow into adults and form opinions about the decision to bring us into the world in a way that deprives us of the basic right to know where we came from, what our history is and who both our parents are.

Some countries, such as Australia and the United Kingdom, are beginning to move away from the practice of paying donors and granting them anonymity, and making it somewhat easier for offspring to find their biological fathers. I understand anonymity's appeal for so many donors: Even if their offspring were to find them one day -- which is becoming more and more probable -- they have no legal, social, financial or moral obligation to their children.

But perhaps if donors were not paid and anonymity were no longer guaranteed, those still willing to participate would seriously consider the repercussions of their actions. They would have to be prepared to someday meet the people whom they helped create, to answer questions and to deal with a range of erratic emotions from their offspring. I believe I've let go of any resentment about the way I was conceived. I'm playing the cards I've been dealt and trying to make the best of things. But not all donor-conceived people share this mindset.

As relief about my own situation has come to me, I've talked freely and regularly about being donor-conceived, in public and in private. In the beginning, I also talked about it a lot with my biological father. After a bit, though, I noticed that his enthusiasm for our developing relationship seemed to be waning. When I told him of my suspicion, he confirmed that he was tired of "this whole sperm-donor thing." The irony stings me more each time I think of him saying that. The very thing that brought us together was pushing us in opposite directions.

Even though I've only recently come into contact with him, I wouldn't be able to just suck it up if he stopped communicating with me. There's still so much I want to know. I want to know him. I want to know his family. I'm certain he has no idea how big a role he has played in my life despite his absence -- or because of his absence. If I can't be too attached to him as my father, I'll still always be attached to the feeling I now have of having a father.

I feel more whole now than I ever have. I love our conversations, even the most trivial ones. I don't love him, and I don't know if I ever will, but I care about him a lot.

Now that he knows I exist, I'm okay if he doesn't care for me in the same way. But I hope he at least thinks of me sometimes.

clarkatrina@gmail.com

Katrina Clark is a student in the undergraduate hearing program at Gallaudet University.

Music for the Melancholy

I should be sleeping...I should be working on my research paper...I should be sleeping on my research paper...but alas, I'm posting on my blog.

So, I have recently been reading the book The Temperament God Gave You by Art & Lorraine Bennett. It seems I have some rather melancholic tendencies...idealism, deep thinking, introversion. Perhaps this explains why sometimes I get into an Alanis Morissette mood; I think she must be a melancholy soul. Her lyrics are candid, vulnerable, and don't glamorize. Even her voice is very honest, not rehearsed and poppy. (Disclaimer: I'm not a fan of her occassionally crass and sexually perverse lyrics, but even still, they betray the very human, gut-level reactions to disappointments, the desperate graspings for a sense of security, the very real brokenness of the human psyche.) Despite the darkness, I don't find her lyrics discouraging; as a whole I find her music quite encouraging . I feel at home with it, I might say.

My favorite listen lately has been "Thank U" from Alanis's "Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie" album. I love the desire expressed in this song to overcome personal vices, the resignation to the need to change, even the desire to change. This song is quite self-affirming and full of great reminders of what matters most in life. Alanis sings...

How bout me not blaming you for everything?
How bout me enjoying the moment for once?
How bout how good it feels to finally forgive you?
How bout grieving it all one at a time?

Thank you India.
Thank you terror.
Thank you disillusionment.
Thank you frailty.
Thank you consequence.
Thank you, thank you silence.

The moment I let go of it was the moment
I got more than I could handle.
The moment I jumped off of it
Was the moment I touched down.

How bout no longer being masochistic?
How bout remembering your divinity?
How bout unabashedly bawling your eyes out?
How bout not equating death with stopping?

I especially love the "thank you"s. Terror, disillusionment, frailty, consequence and silence ... all are huge catalysts for self-evaluation... all are catalysts to look for something greater than yourself for meaning and direction.

Another Alanis song I love is "So Unsexy" from her album "Under Rug Swept". Lyrics below...

Oh these little rejections how they add up quickly
One small sideways look and I feel so ungood
Somewhere along the way I think I gave you the power to make
Me feel the way I thought only my father could

Oh these little rejections how they seem so real to me
One forgotten birthday, I'm all but cooked
How these little abandonments seem to sting so easily
I'm 13 again, am I 13 for good?

I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful
So unloved for someone so fine
I can feel so boring for someone so interesting
So ignorant for someone of sound mind

Oh these little protections how they fail to serve me
One forgotten phone call and I'm deflated
Oh these little defenses how they fail to comfort me
Your hand pulling away and I'm devastated

When will you stop leaving baby?
When will I stop deserting baby?
When will I start staying with myself?

Oh these little projections how they keep springing from me
I jump my ship as I take it personally
Oh these little rejections how they disappear quickly
The moment I decide not to abandon me

I don't really have anything to say about this song at the moment, I just enjoy the honesty regarding insecurities. Musically, the song is a pleasure to listen to. I'm very glad God gave Alanis the talent and motivation to make the music she does.

Okay...It's my bed time :-] Happy Advent to you all!

My roommate rocks!

My Mary has an article published on the National Review On-line today!!!

What’s a life-friendly Telemundo star doing at abortion central?: Where Maria Elena Salinas Stands NOW

"What we may be saving..."

Got this great link below from Project Rachel. You've gotta read this editorial!

Ms Magazine is calling its readers to sign a petition: I have had an abortion. I publicly join the millions of women in the U.S. who have had an abortion in demanding a repeal of laws that restrict women's reproductive freedom.” Here’s a powerful response in the Wall Street Journal from a woman of Russian descent.

So glad you were born!

Natalie

The Lone Star's Loneliest Girl?

Six Pence None the Richer fan? Come on; 'fess up. You'll be glad to know that Texas-raised Leigh Nash has put out her very own CD. After 13 years as lead vocalist for Six Pence (which Nash began at age 14) the group disbanded two years ago. Around that time, Nash had her first (and currently only) child and began work on her own album.

As soon as I saw the ad for Blue on Blue, I drove out to Lifeway Christian store (which was advertising it) and bought it. The 11-song album was released in stores on August 15th. Nash co-wrote all of the songs on this album, and the lyrics have a very different focus than those on the Six Pence albums which Matt Slocum authored.

I suppose the album title is related to Nash's song, Blue. It sounds like a break-up song. She sings:

Say goodbye to me.
I'll say goodbye to you, cause I can't move.
The world won't bend enough
For you to see that love is worth all the trouble

There is a dream that I can't finish
A need that I can't fill
All my dreams have been diminished
You're a habit I'm trying to kill

I try to know you
But to know you is to be blue
I say goodbye
But I'm still in love with you

Like all the songs on the album, Blue is very catchy. I've always loved Nash's girlish yet mature, ultra-feminine, lilting vocal style. For fans of Nash's voice, you will not be disappointed. The album is pretty mellow with a piano-based ballad and other songs interspersed with clarinet action. I personally find the album musically plain, but I prefer a more edgy and percussion-heavy sound. The album is, however, a great listen.

On first blush, all of the songs appear to be about romantic relationships, but after reading a bit more about Nash in recent days, it turns out the album is partially inspired by her new role as mother. Her son Henry is now 2 years old. Perhaps not so coincidentally, Nash's label (through Nettwerk Productions) is called One Son Records.

Nash and her husband have been married for ten years, by the way; I don't know who he is. :-) In her "Thank You" section of the album cover, she writes, "Thank you to all the French Canadian musicians that played, I have a crush on all of you!!! A healthy married person's crush, but a crush none the less." I'm not a fan of talking about having crushes on other people when you are married, but....

The first song, Along the Wall, seems to describe a couple separated by a wall of mutual stubbornness and coldness. Nash asks, "Who is the wounded one? Which one will make the move? Which one is willing to lose?" And then there seems a subtle reference to Christ's ability to make all things new, to turn what was a stumbling block into a stepping stone. Nash sings:

All along the wall between us
I see a teacher there for us
I look at the wall; I see right through it
I lean on the wall there for us

Reconciliation, forgiveness, restoration, humility, and having a teachable heart - all good things. One of the things I love most about Six Pence are the spiritual truths clearly but cleverly entwined in the lyrics. Nash's album does not have any overt Christian messages, which I personally find disappointing. As much as I love songs about relationships, without the central theme of God and His relation to man and ours to Him, I find such tunes ultimately unsatisfying.

Nervous in the Light of Dawn begins and ends with the calm, foreign sound of a duduk. Anyone whose ever been depressed, lonely, or stayed up all night contemplating their own existence can connect with the lyrics. Nash speaks of feeling alone in a desert "without any love" and "wandering alone". She contemplates the reality that there is "nothing anyone can really own." Nash continues:

And I wished for guidance
And I wished for peace
I could see the lightning somewhere in the east
And I wished for affection and I wished for calm
As I lay there nervous in the light of dawn. . . .

Hold me in your arms until I fall asleep
I'm so tired; hold me

Several songs on the album are verging on sickeningly sweet. In My Idea of Heaven Nash describes her idea of heaven as lying in the dark with her husband, feeling his "heart beating" and their "lips meeting." Hey nothing wrong with that, just a bit cheesy. But truly, the marital embrace is a foreshadowing of the bliss of heaven. I personally love the later lyrics, "I never thought you'd get here. Why'd you make me wait? But when I looked into your eyes I recognized you were my fate..... How in God's name did you find the lone star's loneliest girl?"

I thought I was the Lone Star's loneliest girl . . . ;-D

By the way, Yahoo Videos has a music video of My Idea of Heaven, but I can't watch it 'cause my computer doesn't have the right program (or whatever).

In Ocean Size Love Nash pines for the one she loves across the sea, but she is hopeful that their ocean size love will keep them bonded during their separation. Long-distance relationship? It's hard to tell what the motivating factor is behind this song and the others on Blue on Blue.

More of It is another one of the sticky-sweet songs, Nash opening with, "I am happy and at ease with love as it has turned out to be. You will be the man I lie beside when all is said and done with."

Ever felt like you could whether any insult or discouragement because your special someone loves you, and you know you'll be home with them soon, in the comfort of their arms, "your hand in mine"? Well apparently Nash has also felt that way. Her song Angel Tonight is all about that lousy day fading away as approaching night brings you home to the one who makes "everything all right." This could easily be a pop radio single.

Cloud Nine is funny 'cause there are two lines in the album cover that apparently were reworded in the final recording. The print says, "We're on fire, everybody knows. I look at you and there goes control." But Nash sings, "We're too high, everybody knows. I'm walking a real tight rope." It's fun either way. ;-D The gist of this song is, "When I'm on your mind, I'm on cloud nine." I really like this verse:

Twenty-four hours in a night and day
Should be plenty
For me to chase your thoughts my way
And let you catch me

Hehe. ;-D

I also especially like the chorus to Never Finish. Nash muses upon the euphoria of loving and being loved. It could apply to a romantic relationship, but it could very much apply to Nash's relationship with her son as a mother. She sings:

I've waited forever to know
How deep down my love will go
And no matter how hard I try to get it
It's the one thing that I'll never finish

What I love about this is the way it captures the "fruitful" element of love. True love is FREE, FAITHFUL, TOTAL and FRUITFUL. (Thank you John Paul II for teaching us this.) Real love is freely given, completely committed and monogamous, requires a total gift of self (i.e. not hiding the parts you don't like about yourself or rejecting your fertility through contraception and barriers - always gotta throw that in ;-). Love is also generous, overflowing, life-giving . . . FRUITFUL.

As you continue to truly love (i.e. your family, spouse, children, etc. . . .) your ability to love expands in ways you never thought possible. Parents often discover in themselves a whole new depth of love once their children enter into their lives. Hey, and if you are heaven-bound (your choice), your capacity to love and your sense of being loved will truly "never finish." It will grow and grow.

An interview article on MySpace quotes Nash as saying, "Motherhood came pretty fast, and I started writing a ton about Henry. I just found that there was a much deeper well within me than there had been before. This was probably because it was such an emotional process with the band breaking up and all the other things happening at once."

My favorite song on this album is Between the Lines, a song about being taken for granted, of not being heard, perhaps even of having one's love spurned. Nash says, "You may feel you wrote me. I'll be undercover. Until you need me. That's where I'll be." The chorus continues:

I'm talking to you
Not the Wailing Wall
If that's what you do
This link may fall

Between the lines
Can you read me?
Between the lines
That's where I'll be
Between hello and
I would give you the moon
Between I love you and I
I'll see you soon

At first, I thought the album's final song, Just a Little, was about Nash longing to be with her husband while on tour. The MySpace interview, however, claims Just a Little is a tribute to her toddler son, Henry. The song is very lullaby-esque; it's the perfect ending for the album, I think. The chorus has broad implications as it concludes with...

Life is a riddle
I wish I had the answer for
Love breaks your heart to teach you to be strong
I die just a little, so I can live just a little bit more

Anyone can be a critic, so I just want to make it clear that I think Nash has created an impressive CD (with the help of knowedgable friends and skilled musicians). I am holding my breath to hear the next album (whenever she puts one out) because I feel confident it will have more dynamic musicality and a lyrical depth that will showcase the fullness Mrs. Leigh Nash's talent.

Blessings!
Natalie

Movement Nashville
Leigh Nash homepage

The Firing Line

Hello my darlings, It’s been a while, hasn't it? ;-D

I just finished reading Don Aslett's How to Have a 48-Hour Day again. I love this book; it always gets me motivated to DO things and to be productive. Near the end of the book Aslett has a blurb titled "Staying in the Firing Line." He writes:

Heroes and champions are made in the battle, in the game, on the front line, in fact the firing line. Where there is risk, injury, buffeting about, and opposition, is also the number one producing place.
The American dream is personal freedom, but going off the firing line isn't having it made, it isn't freedom. Ninety percent of the time, it's just the opposite: personal bondage! We work, scheme, stick our neck out, and sacrifice to achieve financial independence-so we don't have to answer to anyone. What happens when most people attain "it" and are off the firing line?-marriages fail, spirituality lessens, health deteriorates, enthusiasm evaporates, we become less charitable, and our attitudes sour. On teams and staffs, in families and organizations, the firing line is where everything is happening. It's where life, knowledge, and action abound, where the seeds of greatness are sown, sprouted, and harvested. When you insulate yourself from the action of the front lines, you cut yourself off from the very things that make you grow and prosper and make you productive.
So step out in front, to the firing line, where you're on the hot seat to produce and perform and be accountable. The good life isn't luxury; it's the ability to produce! Be where you have to answer, speak, give, duck, and deliver!
If we want to prove ourselves, then we have to keep ourselves on the proving grounds; stretched to and even beyond our capacity. (143)

Growing up in a financially-challenged home, I LOVED life. I didn't really care about having nice things; I just reveled in the time I had to bond with my mother and sisters. (Besides everything is a toy or a jungle gym when you are a child with lots of imagination.) Of course I wasn't the one worrying about paying the bills and keeping food on the table. But I have often thought, "What would I do with myself if I had a financially comfortable life some day?" Call me crazy, but I don't think I would like it. Just like Aslett said, I think I'd become less spiritually keen, less charitable, lazy. I guess if one lives a virtuous life he can be content and spiritually keen in any state. If one finds himself with great financial gains, the virtuous man will spend and invest and donate is wisely.

But, honestly, I don't want a comfortable, lounge-around the house while the maid cleans, vacation in the Alps 3 times a year family-life. No, I want to earn that vacation. I want to bond with my (one-day) family while doing dishes, scrubbing toilets, or painting the house. I don't want my future children to have everything handed to them on a silver platter. I want a life full of love and activity, bonding and productivity, love for the Lord and one another. (Reminds me of that song "Live Like You Were Dying.")

Once the persecution of Christians under the Roman emperors of the first few centuries A.D. ceased, Roman citizens converted to Christianity en masse. They didn't all have a sincere passion for the truth of salvation through Christ and a love for His Church; it was just what they were expected to do. So, certain Christians, desiring to live a life as passionately devoted to the faith as the martyrs of the Coliseum created for themselves a new sort of martyrdom; they become monks, nuns, hermits, friars, and such. They took (and still take today) vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. I mention this because it relates to Aslett's assertion that being out of the firing line of life often puts us in the position of becoming idle and indifferent. And so those who wanted to spend themselves completely for love of Christ found a way to do so.

This is the sort of life I want to lead - always alert and alive - seeking to live my life to the fullest and to love others to the fullest of my capacity. You only live once (and then you live forever ;-D). Pray fervently. Choose wisely.

Love,
Natalie

"Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord's will is. Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit." (Ephesians 5:15-18)

"And I'll say to myself, 'You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry.' But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?' This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not rich toward God." (Luke 12:19-21)

Quotey McQuoterton

"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or how the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause, who at best knows achievement and who at the worst if he fails at least fails while daring greatly so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."
-Theodore Roosevelt

Mmmmm. Ain't it great?!

Natalie

Another Motivational Thought on the Sacraments

Annointing of the Sick

Because that which doesn't kill you . . .

probably won't wait much longer.

;-)
Love,
Natalie

Faith to Wait for Something More

Recently I heard George Michael's late 80's hit "Faith" on the radio. I don't think I'd ever fully listened to the words before . . . except for maybe the first line . . . at which point I just might change the station. Check out the lyrics below:

Well, I guess it would be nice
If I could touch your body.
I know not everybody has got a body like you.
But I've got to think twice before I give my heart away,
And I know all the games you play
Because I play them, too.

Oh, but baby I need some time off from that emotion,
Time to pick my heart up off the floor.
And when that love comes down without devotion,
Well it takes a strong man baby,
But I'm showing you the door.

'Cause I’ve gotta have faith....

Baby, I know you're asking me to stay.
You say, “Please, please, please, don't go away.”
You say I'm giving you the blues.
Maybe you mean every word you say;
I can't help but think of yesterday
And another who tied me down to loverboy rules. [Whatever that's about?]

Before this river becomes an ocean,
Before you throw my heart back on the floor,
Oh baby, I reconsider my foolish notion.
Well, I need someone to hold me,
But I'll wait for something more . . .

‘Cause I’ve got to have faith . . .

I find it interesting. I can’t quite tell if this song is about a man struggling to resist a woman who is throwing herself at him because he is afraid she wants a deeper commitment or because he knows she just wants a good time and nothing more. I tend to think it’s the latter. It’s interesting to hear the struggle of a man wresting with the temptation of using a woman. Sounds like he has done such things before, but now he realizes that it is unfulfilling in the long run. He wants to wait for something more. Reminds me of another song that I have a love/hate relationship with by Weezer called "Tired of Sex." Here is a portion of the lyrics:

I'm tired, so tired.
I'm tired of having sex.
I'm spread so thin, I don't know who I am....

I'm beat, beet red,
Ashamed of what I said.
I'm sorry, here I go.
I know I'm a sinner,
But I can't say no....

Tonight I'm down on my knees.
Tonight I'm begging you please.
Tonight, tonight, oh please,
Oh, why can't I be making love come true?

Wow! In the unpalatable lyrics to the entire song the unfulfilling nature of casual sex is captured powerfully. The man in the song is ashamed of his inability to say "no". I heard another similar message in a Three Days Grace song called "Animal I Have Become". Here's a portion of those lyrics:

I can't escape this hell;
So many times I've tried,
But I'm still caged inside.
Somebody get me through this nightmare.
I can't control myself....

So what if you can see the darkest side of me?
No one will ever change this animal I have become.
Help me believe it's not the real me.
Somebody help me tame this animal I have become.

Help me believe it's not the real me.
Somebody help me tame this animal.

Wow. That's pretty powerful, especially the cry, "Help me believe it's not the real me." Wow!

I was reading a section in It Takes a Family this morning regarding our culture's messages about human sexuality:

Kids conclude from what they see on TV that true love is validated through sexual engagement, that sex is the natural and normal result when two people like each other. And what follows from sex is, of course, true happiness. With all this sex going on outside of marriage, you'd think we should be a pretty sexually satisfied society. Of course, we are not. In a groundbreaking essay on the impact of pornography, Naomi Wolfe asked, "Does all this sexual imagery in the air mean that sex has been liberated--or is it the case that the relationship between the multi-billion-dollar porn industry, compulsiveness, and sexual appetite has become like the relationship between agribusiness, processed foods, supersize portions, and obesity? If your appetite is stimulated and fed by poor-quality material, it takes more junk to fill you up. People are not closer because of porn but further apart; people are not more turned on in their daily lives but less so." The sexual saturation of our culture has had the unexpected effect of depleting real intimacy in our lives. One irony of our times is that surveys show the most sexually satisfied women in America are: married and religious! Hardly what the media would have you believe.

That is dead-on! So all of this to say that George Michael's got a serious point (despite any of his other songs) when he says:

Well, I need someone to hold me,
But I'll wait for something more . . .
‘Cause I’ve got to have faith . . .

So I encourage you to have faith, faith to wait for something more - be it with the one you are already with or with the love-of-your-life yet to come. We are all tempted at various times to seek fulfillment in physical intimacy with someone we are not married to (or in selfish ways with the one we are married to). But we can start shaping our affections towards what is good and true and beautiful from this moment on. We can learn to trust God so profoundly that we can "wait for something more" knowing He'll be faithful to provide the love that truly fulfills. Saying “no” to selfish or desperate desires is part of how we exercise our faith in our loving God.

Blessings!
Natalie

Psalm 37:3-5 "Trust in the LORD, and do good; Dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness. Delight yourself also in the LORD, and He shall give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass."

"It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. Go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice.' For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners." - Jesus
(Matthew 9:12-13)

The Interpretative Dance Theocrats

If there were ever a time to laugh so hard that you can no longer control certain bodily functions, then that time has arrived! You've gotta read the following post by "Holy Office" from livejournal.com. I've reproduced the content below, but follow the link above when you're done 'cause the comments left by others on his site are also hilarious!

Enjoy!

Natalie

The Interpretative Dance Theocrats

There is an unintentionally hilarious excerpt in Salon today from Michelle Goldberg's new book, "Kingdom Coming: The Rise of Christian Nationalism." In it, Goldberg casts doubt on her ability to serve as a reliable guide by repeatedly confusing premillenialism with rapture theology, by confusing the Weimar-era "conservative revolution" in Germany with Nazism, and by apparently believing that Leviticus was a person.

It also opens with a portentous description of an interpretative dance performance regarding the removal of Roy Moore's 10 Commandments monument from an Alabama courthouse. Apparently, Goldberg intends this to be menacing, but it's hard to be frightened by any group that communicates its message through dance. Goldberg draws explicit parallels between today's Christians and the Nazis of 1920s Germany, which only makes the whole thing more ridiculous: my own, admittedly non-intensive, study of the Third Reich has convinced me that ballet was generally low on the list of Stormtroopers' tactics.

This underscores that while many people in America are scared silly of Christianity, many of the most frightened know very little about it. Terms like "fundamentalist" and "evangelical" are thrown around with very little concern about their actual meaning, and this is before entering the dark thicket of Preterists, Amillenialists, Prelapsarian Arminian Claims Adjusters, etc.

To be fair to these perplexed and terrified people, Christians are not easy to understand. To begin with, there are roughly 2,000 years of history to grasp, and certainly more denominations and subdivisions than that to take on board. For people who were raised secular, I imagine it's like trying to understand an opera after coming in halfway before the end: the stage is crowded with people, two of them seem to be dead, a woman is wearing a hat with horns, and everyone is making a terrible racket.

The time has come for some kind of crib sheet for the confused and frightened, a handy, easy-to-use reference guide for identifying some of the key denominations, terms, and concepts in Christianity. This is intended a simple "cheat sheet" for those confused and worried about the place of Christianity in America and, to a lesser extent, the contemporary world. It's not intended to be a comprehensive guide, only to help my secular friends as they navigate the confused waters of the world's largest religion.

Let's start with some of the terms that got Goldberg confused:

Premillenialism
This is the belief among some Christians that, ever since Jan. 1, 2000, it has no longer been possible, in the words of the Prince song, "to party like it's 1999." Postmillenialists are those Christians who believe that it will always be possible to do so, while Amillenialists believe that in this context, "1999" cannot be understood literally, but must be read as an allegorical term roughly meaning "a time at which it is especially appropriate to party."

Rapture
This was a #1 hit in 1980 for Blondie (#5 in the UK), from the otherwise underwhelming "Autoamerican" album. Many Christians now concede that the then-pioneering use of rap in the song sounds a little lame in retrospect. In their best-selling series of books about the song, "Left Behind (Parallel Lines)," Jerry Jenkins and Tim LaHaye defend the rap verse's hip references to Grandmaster Flash and Fab Five Freddy, and maintain that when Jesus returns, all believers will be united in accepting that Blondie's cover of "The Tide Is High" is better than the original.

The Pope
The Pope is the President of Christianity. He is elected every four years by the Congress of Cardinals, which is divided into the Senate and the Holy House of Representatives. As president, the pope can veto important pieces of legislation, which he tends to do. The pope is also magical, and cannot be seen with the naked eye except for one hour on Christmas Eve every year.

The Bible
The Bible was written by God as a merchandising tie-in to His blockbuster film "The Ten Commandments." Each book of the Bible is named after a person who features prominently in it, for example, the Book of Numbers, which is named after Herschel Numbers, who invented numerals. The Bible was so successful that God wrote a sequel, "Bible II: On to Rome," now generally called "The New Testament." Protestants believe the Bible is literal and exactly true in every detail except the description of the Eucharist, while Catholics are not allowed to read the Bible.

Catholics
Catholics are the New York Yankees of Christianity. They are the biggest and wealthiest team, and their owner is intensely controversial (this makes St. Francis of Assisi the Derek Jeter of Catholicism: discuss). Catholics all wear matching uniforms, and are divided into "parishes," or "squadrons," to make choosing softball teams easier. Catholics are rigidly controlled by a hidebound hierarchy that starts with priests and ends with priests' housekeepers. Catholics are not allowed to read the Bible, eat meat, or refrain from worshipping statues.

Orthodox
For many years, American scholars believed the Orthodox were, like leprechauns, unicorns, and Eskimos, purely the product of the fanciful imaginations of medieval writers. Recent evidence leads us to tentatively conclude, however, that Eastern Orthodoxy may have somewhere in the neighborhood of 250 million adherents. Protestants tend to see the Orthodox as "Catholics with beards," while Catholics confess to a haunting sense that they are simply "Orthodox without beards."

The Protestant Reformation
This is the name historians give to a major labor dispute that erupted in Germany in 1517 when a group of monks hammered a proposed union contract to the door of the pope's house, requesting a 95 percent pay raise. The pope refused to negotiate with the monks union until it agreed to pay to have the door fixed, and the result was the world's longest-running strike. For nearly 500 years, a huge portion of Christians have been on strike from being Catholic, saying they are "justified" in their work stoppage because the pope won't expand the number of indulgences they get per year. Currently, the matter is in arbitration.

Calvinism
This theory was worked out by the French theologian and fashion designer John Calvin Klein, who argued that some people are predestined to be glamorous while others are doomed to be plain. America was founded by Calvinists, who sought to establish a country where they could pursue their belief that buckled hats were fashionable.

Fundamentalism

The belief that basic elements of play - like passing, ball handling, and defense - are the essential building blocks of a winning basketball team is generally referred to as "fundamentalism." The fundamentalists formulated their doctrine in the 1980s against the showy, heretical play of Magic Johnson's Los Angeles Lakers. Leading fundamentalist institutions include Bob Jones University and Syracuse. Larry Brown's failure to get the Knicks into the playoffs has been seen as a major setback for the cause of fundamentalism.

Baptism
Baptists are Christians who believe God can only be accessed by means of a swimming pool or, in some cases, a shallow outdoor stream. The first Baptist was John the Baptist, who was said to eat locusts and honey, although contemporary Baptists generally prefer barbecue. "Baptism" is also the term used to describe a key Christian ceremony, in which prospective members of the church are either initiated actually (Catholics, Orthodox, confused Protestants) or symbolically (Protestants, confused Catholics, religious studies professors). Catholics believe that anyone can perform a valid baptism, Orthodox believe that any Christian can, while Baptists, paradoxically, believe that only they can.

The Emerging Church

This is a term that refers to churches attended exclusively by white people in their 20s and 30s who have at least one tattoo or body piercing. Their distinguishing characteristics are a refreshing, "up to date" interpretation of Christianity, and a reluctance to directly answer questions.

The Nicene Creed
This statement of faith is the Christian Pledge of Allegiance, recited every Sunday in squadron meetings by Christians all over the globe. Adopted in the 4th century at the behest of Emperor Constantinople, it was designed to counter the influence of the Aryans, who argued that Jesus was German.

Touchdown Jesus
When professional athletes thank Jesus for helping them win a game, this is the Jesus they're referring to.

The Trinity

This is the Christian expression of God, who Christians say is personified by the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Not all Christians accept this: Unitarians, Jehovah's Witnesses, and some Pentecostals reject trinitarianism, as do Muslims. Interestingly, while this does not mean Pentecostals are Muslim, it does mean that Muslims are Jehovah's Witnesses. St. Augustine famously summed up the difficulty of comprehending the Trinity when he recounted a dream in which a small boy told him he would need a bigger bucket if he wanted to bail out the ocean.

Sex
Christians are not permitted to have sex. This unpopular doctrine was formulated by Pope Lactose LX at the Council of Disney in 1439. Despite this restriction, Christians have managed to increase their ranks to the point where there are roughly 2 billion of them. Scholars attribute this to the competitive health benefits and generous "flex time" arrangements offered by Christianity.

Heaven
Heaven is a term referring to the ultimate destiny of a certain number of souls. Depending on who you listen to, heaven is either: where all of us will end up (Origen); where many of us will end up (St. Gregory of Nyssa); where some of us will end up (John Calvin); where a small portion of us have, in some sense, already ended up (John of Leyden); where precisely 144,000 of us will end up (Charles Taze Russell); or where Jack Chick will end up (Jack Chick). Theologian Belinda Carlisle once posited that "Ooh, baby, heaven is a place on earth," but explorers combing the globe have yet to confirm this.

The Devil
Although the Devil - also known as Satan, Lucifer, the Father of Lies, and, to his friends, "Hef" - is mentioned numerous times in Bible II, most Christians today are uncomfortable with belief in a literal, personal demonic entity. Instead, they prefer to think of the Devil primarily as the potential for wickedness that exists within all human beings or, in some cases, as an especially unreasonable landlord.

I hope this helps clear up some easily-made misconceptions about Christianity. If there are any questions about other doctrines or concepts, please don't hesitate to ask.

By Holy Office