The pool is coming down this week. The first week of school, the first week of cool evenings, the start of the football season, all of these herald the end of pool season, and Boogaloo just isn't sure how to take that. The pool is her friend. It's been here all summer. She's been in it every day, and now Daddy and Mommy are getting ready to put it away. What's a girl to do?
She wanted to go swimming this evening, but Seth had already unplugged the filter.
"Mommy," she persisted. "I plug it back in." Sure enough, the tubes were back in the side of the pool, though I wouldn't vouch for how well connected they were.
"It doesn't matter, Sweetpea. The water is too low for the pump to work."
"We should add more water."
"No, Boo. The water is dirty. It's starting to get cold at night. It's time to put the pool away."
"But I want to swim."
"Well, Boo, swimming is kind of like Christmas. It happens at a special time of year and not at other times of year."
[Ears perk up.] "I want to swim at Christmas."
That is not what I wanted her to take from that analogy.
"No, Boo, I meant that Christmas happens once a year, birthdays happen once a year, and swimming happens at its own time of year."
"I could swim at Christmas."
"We might have snow at Christmas. The pool would freeze over. That would definitely be too cold for swimming."
Contemplation. I left her to contemplate while I went to forward dinner along. A few minutes later she followed me into the kitchen.
"Mommy, I have to talk you something."
"Sure, Boo, I'm listening."
"If the pool is still up at Christmas, we could go ice skating."
Sometimes you just gotta put your foot down. There's no reasoning with this kind of optimism.
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
A theological conundrum
A few days ago, a friend sent me this link: http://www.tfpstudentaction.org/stop-black-mass-oklahoma-city.html with the request that I sign the petition at the other end. It seems that a satanic group has secured the use of public property to hold a Black Mass ceremony . The ceremony has been publicized as an attempt to "help educate the public about Religious Satanism. Enjoy the delights of the Devil” (TFP Student Action) and also to "continue the Satanic movement -- to keep fighting for our rights for religious freedom" (patheos.com).
I signed the petition right away. I tend to do that; urgent language has a way of getting to me. (Therefore any and all email requests for money are deleted immediately as policy.) But in this case, I don't want a black mass to be held anywhere. The fact that the devil's days are numbered doesn't mean Satanism isn't a bad thing. But when I thought about putting the petition out to my friends and family, I had to pause for a moment. How should I phrase this request? How do I justify it?
The difficulty that I keep running into is that the Oklahoma City Civic Center is public property, and per First Amendment rights, public property that is open to some religious and civic groups must be open to all religious and civic groups. Attempting to deny some crackpot in Oklahoma the use of this facility runs directly counter to the many lawsuits that Christians have filed to use school gyms or civic centers for worship services or conferences. Secularly, civicly, both Christianity and Satanism are religions, so neither of them can be excluded from places of public function.
One could argue that Satanism doesn't really count as a religion because it exists primarily to derail another religion. Organized sacrilege might be a more valid term. Satanism is not the same thing as paganism or atheism, which have their own belief structures. It actively opposes the Christian God by doing despicable things to earn the blessing of the Christian archdemon, Satan. The understanding is Christian; it's just that Satanists don't like the Christian deity or the Christian result (i.e. new creation without pain or tears, reunion with God, the elimination of all evil), and so they support the devil. By that argument, I'm not sure that Satanism would be open to protection under the religious clause in the First Amendment, but I can't see any court in the land wanting to be the one to rule on what is a religion.
My conundrum is this: Of course I don't want to see this sacrilege gain traction in the public arena. "The insults of those who insult you have fallen upon me." Jesus is my savior; He suffered unspeakable torment to give me a life I don't deserve. In the eyes of any right-minded person, that is honorable and should be respected, even if it isn't believed. Not only does it hurt to see Jesus denigrated, it also hurts to see someone so completely screwed up that he would make a point of trying to spread this kind of behavior. However, if this public activity does anything, it shows the perpetrator for what he is: a spiteful, small minded lunatic who is systematically shriveling his own soul by trying to degrade something holy that is inexpressibly beyond his reach.
Another concern is that regardless of the state's responsibility to be unbiased, religious activity does have spiritual repercussions. You can't just invite the devil in, and then expect him to leave when it's convenient for you. The spiritual world is at war, and when you cede ground, you have to win it back.
But at the same time, a Satanic ritual doesn't hurt the church or Christ. The devil's power, even when consciously invoked, does not rival God's power under any circumstances. The Black Mass is perpetrated by stealing a communion wafer from a Catholic Church and doing things to degrade and insult it. From the Protestant perspective, it's as if someone stole a picture of someone who saved your life and walked around spitting and shitting on it. Of course, you'd be upset, you'd want the picture back, and you'd have to suppress a primal instinct to knock the perpetrator's teeth in (we are Christians, after all, and we have an established protocol for dealing with insults), but in no way is your friend and benefactor actually injured. Christ's body is in the members of the Church, and it is open to injury and insult all around the world as our brothers and sisters suffer for his name. I respectfully submit that our Lord feels more grief over the state of the soul of this Satanic priest than He does over what happens to a piece of the host.
Apparently this mass has been held for several years, and according to a public response by Oklahoma State Representative Rebecca Hamilton, nobody (literally nobody) attendeds. But say people were attending this event in droves. Say it was an actual rival to the Gospel in Oklahoma City and an active destroyer of moral values in the public sphere. Would petitions to exclude Satanists from public property really be the most effective way of countering its influence? Simply put, spiritual battles are fought in the heavenlies; the legal system is merely one of the places that we see results. If the Christians of Oklahoma City want to see this ritual stop, I suggest that they stand outside the Civic Center and fast and pray for the soul of this Satanic priest until he walks out and asks for Jesus.
I signed the petition right away. I tend to do that; urgent language has a way of getting to me. (Therefore any and all email requests for money are deleted immediately as policy.) But in this case, I don't want a black mass to be held anywhere. The fact that the devil's days are numbered doesn't mean Satanism isn't a bad thing. But when I thought about putting the petition out to my friends and family, I had to pause for a moment. How should I phrase this request? How do I justify it?
The difficulty that I keep running into is that the Oklahoma City Civic Center is public property, and per First Amendment rights, public property that is open to some religious and civic groups must be open to all religious and civic groups. Attempting to deny some crackpot in Oklahoma the use of this facility runs directly counter to the many lawsuits that Christians have filed to use school gyms or civic centers for worship services or conferences. Secularly, civicly, both Christianity and Satanism are religions, so neither of them can be excluded from places of public function.
One could argue that Satanism doesn't really count as a religion because it exists primarily to derail another religion. Organized sacrilege might be a more valid term. Satanism is not the same thing as paganism or atheism, which have their own belief structures. It actively opposes the Christian God by doing despicable things to earn the blessing of the Christian archdemon, Satan. The understanding is Christian; it's just that Satanists don't like the Christian deity or the Christian result (i.e. new creation without pain or tears, reunion with God, the elimination of all evil), and so they support the devil. By that argument, I'm not sure that Satanism would be open to protection under the religious clause in the First Amendment, but I can't see any court in the land wanting to be the one to rule on what is a religion.
My conundrum is this: Of course I don't want to see this sacrilege gain traction in the public arena. "The insults of those who insult you have fallen upon me." Jesus is my savior; He suffered unspeakable torment to give me a life I don't deserve. In the eyes of any right-minded person, that is honorable and should be respected, even if it isn't believed. Not only does it hurt to see Jesus denigrated, it also hurts to see someone so completely screwed up that he would make a point of trying to spread this kind of behavior. However, if this public activity does anything, it shows the perpetrator for what he is: a spiteful, small minded lunatic who is systematically shriveling his own soul by trying to degrade something holy that is inexpressibly beyond his reach.
Another concern is that regardless of the state's responsibility to be unbiased, religious activity does have spiritual repercussions. You can't just invite the devil in, and then expect him to leave when it's convenient for you. The spiritual world is at war, and when you cede ground, you have to win it back.
But at the same time, a Satanic ritual doesn't hurt the church or Christ. The devil's power, even when consciously invoked, does not rival God's power under any circumstances. The Black Mass is perpetrated by stealing a communion wafer from a Catholic Church and doing things to degrade and insult it. From the Protestant perspective, it's as if someone stole a picture of someone who saved your life and walked around spitting and shitting on it. Of course, you'd be upset, you'd want the picture back, and you'd have to suppress a primal instinct to knock the perpetrator's teeth in (we are Christians, after all, and we have an established protocol for dealing with insults), but in no way is your friend and benefactor actually injured. Christ's body is in the members of the Church, and it is open to injury and insult all around the world as our brothers and sisters suffer for his name. I respectfully submit that our Lord feels more grief over the state of the soul of this Satanic priest than He does over what happens to a piece of the host.
Apparently this mass has been held for several years, and according to a public response by Oklahoma State Representative Rebecca Hamilton, nobody (literally nobody) attendeds. But say people were attending this event in droves. Say it was an actual rival to the Gospel in Oklahoma City and an active destroyer of moral values in the public sphere. Would petitions to exclude Satanists from public property really be the most effective way of countering its influence? Simply put, spiritual battles are fought in the heavenlies; the legal system is merely one of the places that we see results. If the Christians of Oklahoma City want to see this ritual stop, I suggest that they stand outside the Civic Center and fast and pray for the soul of this Satanic priest until he walks out and asks for Jesus.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Wrangling the human condition
So exasperated! Moved
to tears even, and that doesn't happen very often. When Seth was in the Navy, it would take two
and a half months of being alone to move me to a convincing set of tears. Now it takes two weeks of believing that I
might have been pregnant, followed by a negative test and the beginning of that
thing that ends my hopes every other month at least.
I hate my body, and not because of its shape or its
consistency. I hate it because it plays
tricks on me. It feeds me lies like
swollen breasts, waves of fatigue, nausea, tenderness, increased potty
frequency, and enhanced sense of smell for two weeks, and then it drops me
right back on the doorstep of starting all over. The fact that going through one's period is
uncomfortable is just adding insult to injury, reminiscent of the time there
was some one, and they didn't stay. Why,
why, why did you tell me I was pregnant?
Didn't I do everything you asked me to?
Didn't I exercise regularly and eat all the healthy foods that the video
diet plan required? Didn't I get enough
sunshine and sleep? Was I not drinking
enough milk? What did I leave out that
inspired you to put me through this ringer again?
I honestly believe that I could be happy the rest of my life
having only one child if only my body would stop pretending to be pregnant
every couple of months. If out of season
symptoms didn't send my hopes skyrocketing and kick my baby planning glands
into gear, I would be fine. Last time,
Seth and I joked about names. This
month, the symptoms were so complete that we were thinking about how to turn
our workout room into a nursery. Even he
was getting a little giddy, and he's used to my flights of hormonal fancy.
When we lost baby Blessed last August, the doctors told me
that another baby should be coming along "any time in the next six
months." "Just trust your body and let it settle down." Right.
I can't trust my body. My body
doesn't know one end of itself from the other.
None of the indicators that should be attached to states are attached to
the states which they ought to indicate.
I'm still nauseated. I'm still
tired, I'm downright hysterical, and my bras don't fit. My body let my baby die, and now, every other
month at least I spend two weeks thinking
"Is this real? Is it going
to turn into something? Will it
continue? And if it doesn't, does that
mean there was no one there, or did I lose someone again?" It's not personal, obviously. How can a body intend things personally
against its person? But it's so easy to
see it that way. Why do I have to hope
so much? Why can't I just roll with
providence and see where it takes me?
Why all this jerking on a chain I can't ignore because it literally runs
up the middle of me?
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
A crazy way to make my life a little easier.
Have you ever noticed how the first two weeks of something
are easier than the second two weeks.
For the first two weeks, there's a high that sustains the activity; the
momentum is all on your side. Then,
suddenly, reality sets back in, the parts of life that had to be put aside
start demanding their due, and commitment becomes a real chore. My necessities ( I really need my
workout. It literally keeps me sane.)
and the general necessities were in conflict.
How many parents feel
this? "I can't establish an
exercise regimen or a relaxation period or a time to read just a little
enlightening, adult-oriented material because there are so many other things
that need doing." We can't all be
Maria Kangs, right? My guess is the
majority of us feel that way. But I'm
not going to tell you to button down and set aside those times for yourself. I'm going to tell you to multi-task. That's right. Clean and exercise at the same time. I'm only half joking, and that's because I haven't gotten it all figured out yet.
I should state right off that I am not a physical fitness
professional. I do not have a degree in
body mechanics. These are all my own
experimentations with the movements that I've seen on the Insanity workout videos
as I try to incorporate them into my house cleaning routine. I confess, the first time I tried this, I had an uncanny
picture of the most recent Stepford Wives movie as they all shimmied around in their cheerful workout clothes with their washing machine poles. Well, this is the anti-Stepford. They were incorporating housework into their
exercise to stay feminine. I am
incorporated exercise into my housework to get sweaty, and I haven't hurt myself yet.
For example, the sweeping lunge.
Doesn't that sound athletic? This exercise has two
parts: the first is aerobic, and the second is a stretch. For the aerobic part, I incorporated memories
of basketball drills. Get down in a
"chair" and hop a couple of feet to one side. Put the broom head on the ground and sweep as
you shuffle back to your starting position. Keep your core tight. Hop up a step and repeat the movement. About halfway across the designated space,
about face and perform the same motions leading with the other leg. When that segment of the floor has been
swept, move the starting point over four to six feet and begin again. Make sure you get down into a chair position
that your junior high p.e. teacher would have been proud of and keep those abs
tight.
If the area doesn't allow for easy shuffling, I use a
stretching lunge. This requires some
muscle control. I haven't mastered it
yet. The basic lunge position has one
leg extended with the heel resting on the floor and the toe in the air. The other leg is bent so that (and this is
very important) the knee is directly over the foot and the backside is
back. All the work in the lunge and the
squat happen because the backside is being levered back over open air, thus
requiring your core and leg muscles to support it instead of letting it support
itself. For the sweeping lunge, lunge to
one side (I know, I know, ouch. Only go as
low as is comfortable.) and then hold the broom out in front of you and sweep as
far as you can without unbalancing yourself (Didn't I say I was still mastering this? Many are the times I've nearly ended up on my nose). When you've
covered the ground you can reach, come slowly up out of the lunge and repeat
the movement to the other side. I find
it useful to sweep against the lunge.
That is, I pull the broom from the side of the bent leg, not the straight
leg.
The mopping lunge.
For a change up (because like I said, we have a lot of
floor), I like to work in some forward
lunges. These are not like the sweeping
lunges. They go forward, not to the
side. The proper position for a lunge is
with the feet parallel to each other, one a couple of feet in front of the
other (I'm pretty tall. Distance is
relative to body height.). When the body
sinks down, the front knee should be over the front foot and the back knee
should be under the back hip. Both knees
should be at 90 degree angles. The back
should be straight, the neck long, the head high, the core tight. Holding the mop in front of you, go down into
a lunge. Pull the mop back as you rise. Switch legs and move over slightly. Lunge again.
Switch. Lunge. Continue until you run out of room or your
legs get tired.
The laundry attack squat.
This exercise is for front loading laundry devices. I've tried
to find an exercise for a top loading washing machine, but my head kept
getting stuck in the door. For front loading machines, get a laundry basket
that is lower than the lip of your washer or dryer. Position the basket under the lip of the
opening of the machine. Squat over the
basket (I know, I know. Just forget that
you look like you're trying to lay an egg.) and reach into the machine. Pull out the contents of the machine and dump
them into the basket as quickly as you can.
Keep your back straight, your head up, your shoulders relaxed, and your
neck long. Start with the dryer. Empty it into the basket. Pivot or shuffle over to the washer. Resume the squatting position. Pull the wet clothes into another basket. Then pivot/shuffle back to the dryer and
rapidly feed the wet clothes back in.
Flex the hips to stand up. Start
the dryer. Move the load of dirty
clothes in front of the washer.
Squat. Load. Stand.
You get the idea.
I know won't get a complete body workout by doing only these exercises every day, but they do help keep me on track when I have time to do nothing else. The cool thing about squatting and lunging while I work is that I
maintain proper posture while I'm lifting the bucket, pushing the mop,
etc. I don't curve my spine or
slouch. I use proper lifting
position. Squatting is good for chasing
kids, for picking up objects on the floor, and for childbirth. Honestly, the more squatting and lunging we can work into
our lives, the better.
I should mention that I couldn't do any of these properly if
I hadn't spent four weeks watching the professionals on the Insanity videos ,
listening to my husband (who has a lot
more fitness experience than I do), and training my muscles what proper stance
feels like and where my body should be. I
get awfully sore on my housecleaning days, which makes me think I should
incorporate some stretches somehow, but I work up a good sweat, get my heart
rate up for over 30 minutes, and my house gets cleaned. When I'm really on form, I can put on an audio
book or a sermon and get three things done at once. It's intense mommy enhancement time without
neglecting my huswiferly duties. I count
that as a good day, and it keeps me on track.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
The little metaphors of life: exercise
The Apostle Paul says, "Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly;
I do not fight like a boxer beating the air.
No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave, so that after I
have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the
prize." He also said, "If I am
out of my mind, it is for God, but if I remain in my right mind, it is for
you." (2 Cor. 5:13). All this goes to preface that Seth brought
home the Insanity workouts, and we've been learning a lot.
The principle behind the Insanity workouts is to push the
body to points beyond what the mind would have thought the body can
endure. It relies on circuit training
and plyometrics to raise the heartrate above the aerobic level and then let it
come back down. The impact on the body
is intense. For the first two weeks,
Seth and I were taking naps midway through the day. We were that worn out, but we felt
fantastic.
Call me medieval, but
where there is a spiritual comparison, I have to make it, and the discipline of
starting a new workout routine is too metaphorically ripe to leave on the tree. I don't think working out is a spiritual
exercise any more than I think eating is a spiritual exercise, but anything
touching life itself has a spiritual element, and anything but anything can be
a spiritual metaphor. The Apostle Paul often used athletic metaphors,
and it's my personal opinion that our Lord was very physically fit. He spent his childhood putting together
houses, most likely, and climbed mountains for his morning prayer times. Modern psychology is proving that the state
of the body heavily influences the state of the mind. We are not simply spiritual creatures, and we
cannot leave the body behind in our reckonings with the soul.
That's one of the reasons I like this exercise series. The very push that lies behind all the
exercises feels a lot of life in a mental and spiritual struggle. The instructor and his professional fitness
people in the background sweat and sway just as much as we do. They push just as hard, and they get just as
worn out. "I'm right here with
you," the instructor says.
"Now dig deeper." And
the fact of the matter is, yes, he is right there, doing what we are trying to
do and feeling at least some of the pain that we are. Exercise, in a weird way, takes faith: faith
that what we are doing won't kill us and will give us what we're looking for in
terms of a new body or better health.
That faith keeps us coming back to our routines.
Do I really have to say that this is an excellent example of
how we live the Christian life, with Christ sweating tears of agony in the
garden, struggling to do exactly what we are called to do, but doing it and
doing it perfectly? And anyone who has
felt the prompting of the Holy Spirit has also felt the call to dig deeper and
pursue that perfect righteousness.
Sometimes the righteous life does feel like more than we can endure, but
if we lock our minds into what the Holy Spirit is shouting in our ears and just
keep pushing, pushing in prayer, resisting temptation, practicing the virtues
until they feel natural (the stuff of lifetimes), then suddenly we come to a
point where we see results, the workout is over, and we can breathe freely (and
fall over).
I saw an ad for the Insanity workout that said, "Are you insane enough for the Insanity workout?" But at the same time, the workout advises us to know our limits and work at our own pace. There are parts of the New Testament when Jesus seemed to be asking, "Are you insane enough for Christianity? Have you counted the cost? Are you willing to lay it all down and die?" But at the same time, He works through our difficulties with us and slowly brings us up to speed.
So while I'm worrying about my body (because I am seriously hurting right now), I am also thinking about the soul.
So while I'm worrying about my body (because I am seriously hurting right now), I am also thinking about the soul.
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