Worship today

We're singing, "Come Lord Jesus, Come. Holy Spirit, Come."

My eyes drift up toward the ceiling and thoughts that I couldn't put into words flit through my mind.

What would happen if he DID come. We sing it, but do we really mean it? Do we REALLY want it?

And there we are, huddled inside the church, protected from the elements by that lovely expanse of ceiling and roof... but is it a barrier that we've built to keep him out? We have a huge high ceiling, with lights and ceiling fans... the illusion of space. Like being in one of those planetarium places. They turn out the lights, and the huge, domed ceiling starts to glow with an image of the night sky. Constellations, the Milky Way... all mapped out for you.

Have we done that to some extent by building churches? When we close ourselves in, do we keep God out? Do we make our sanctuaries light and spacious to create the illusion of God's light and omnipresence?

How different it is to stand outside, and gaze up at the northern lights... Aurora Borealis...

I grew up in British Columbia, surrounded by trees and mountains. What a picture of the strength of God. Of his power. His solidity and faithfulness.

Now I live in Saskatchewan.

Give me the prairies every time.

To stand surrounded by SPACE. To BREATHE. To feel like you could inhale eternity if you just open your lungs enough.

I can worship outside. I can feel God. I fall in love with him again when there is nothing between him and me but space. When the pillars of my house of worship are the trunks of trees, and the choir loft is their branches, and the chorus is sung by chickadees and robins.

I think these guys had it right...

Up On The Roof
The Drifters

(Written by Gerry Goffin and Carole King)

When this old world starts getting me down
And people are just too much for me to face
I climb way up to the top of the stairs
And all my cares just drift right into space
On the roof, it's peaceful as can be
And there the world below can't bother me
Let me tell you now

When I come home feelin' tired and beat
I go up where the air is fresh and sweet (up on the roof)
I get away from the hustling crowd
And all that rat-race noise down in the street (up on the roof)
On the roof, the only place I know
Where you just have to wish to make it so
Let's go up on the roof (up on the roof)

At night the stars put on a show for free
And, darling, you can share it all with me

I keep a-tellin' you

Right smack dab in the middle of town
I've found a paradise that's trouble proof (up on the roof)
And if this world starts getting you down
There's room enough for two
Up on the roof (up on the roof)


I bet Jesus would be hangin out "up on the roof".

Just breathing.

So.

This is the day.

I'm 42 today.

Do I feel old?

Well, its' not as bad as last year. Turning 40 didn't hurt too much, but last year when I started adding digits to the end of the "4" I realized there was no turning back.

So, today it's a "2".

Maybe that's why I'm wearing my 3 1/2 inch heels for church today. I think I must be vain. I don't want to look old, so I'm resorting to those female age fighting mind games... high heels, panty hose.... well, I guess that's about as far as I got today! Of course, I will wear clothing along with it, but it feels like one of those days, you know, like in the dream- where you get where you're going only to find you forgot to get dressed. In today's dream I'd show up in nothing but panty hose and high heels.

scary

I hope I don't fall down! That would be humbling. Like yesterday... taking Hillary to her friend's house and then popping in to the grocery store for some essential ingredients to make the lemon poppy seed cake (If I'm making my own cake, I can make something different!) . I changed the shorts for some going-out-in-public trousers. I couldn't figure out what didn't feel right. I was halfway into the car before I realized I'd put my pants on backwards. (trousers, for all you Brits out there! my pants were just fine)

Wouldn't that have been cute!

Time to get a move on! The church bells will be ringing soon.

So, who's coming for cake?

Well, he did it.

We've talking about a deck, or a gazebo, or a patio for AGES. We've tossed it around for several years...what should it be, where should it go, how shall it be?!

This week we settled on a plan. A design. An idea.

Today he built it.

We have a new... we're calling it a "Pergola". It's a 10 x 10 foot one step up deck, with corner post- pillars, and a wood slat shade roof. My boys- old and young, did a good job. It's almost in the centre of the yard, and at 10:30 this evening, I finally had a chance to go and sit there, on the new pergola.

It was nice.

It was VERY nice.

There was still a scent of fesh sawed wood in the air, and a big, white, round moon was shining through the bare leaves of the trees in the corner of the yard. I tried to close my ears and eyes to the traffic on the street, and thought that first thing in the morning, when the birds start to wake up, it would be a pleasant place to greet the day from. It feels very much like an old fashioned front porch.

That was a nice way to end the day.

O.K.

Breakfast is done.

Lunches are made.

The three adolescents... Junior and Senior High... are starting to fumble their way to the door and so to the car and then to school.

The Pre-adolescent is doing his pre-leaving wandering about the house looking for ways to delay the inevitable.

Merriam-Webster word game of the day has been checked out and aced.

(Look at me! Johanna just showed me how to do a link! Yeah!)

And now?

Now THE SEWING awaits. Down in the recesses of the basement, in my dark little corner, the Seven Brides For Seven Brothers costume waits. I promised to work on it this morning and will try to have it finished by lunch.

So.

I guess I should go get at it!

Will she revere me? Will she adore me? Will she be grateful and fulsome with praise for her talented, serving mother?

Doubt it.

But, someday I hope she'll have her own children, and be serving her own time (with the odd weekend off for good behavior!) and THEN she'll appreciate me. That's how it worked with me. I didn't really start to appreciate my mother until I became one. At least by then it wasn't too late.

And now, to Sew, perchance to Seam.

Oh Lord, when the morning comes my heart will sing your praise
With the coming of the dawn my voice in song I'll raise,

I will sing Alleluia, Alleluia

Oh Lord, when my troubles come your promises I'll claim
All my weakness will be strong when I'm standing in your name

I will sing Alleluia, Alleluia

You set my feet on solid ground, I'm covered with your wings
You pick me up when I fall down, you give me songs to sing

I will sing Alleluia, Alleluia

It took him 60 hours to comment on the new haircut! He SAYS he noticed it as soon as he got home from his conference on Sunday, (60 hours ago!) he just didn't say anything. His explanation? It didn't look very different.

Oh, well.

Maybe next time I'll go micro-short and green.

tick....tick....tick.....

Poor Micah.

At supper last night we were giving his oldest sister a hard time, because, well, she was acting pretty touchy and grouchy, and we made a few "when is your period due" type P.M.S. jokes.

Micah started paying attention to the conversation swirling around him... and the look in his eyes as it started to register!

"You get a period?!" he fairly croaked.

"Ah!" , Sister #2, (who had been briefed on "The Talk") smiled, "See, Mom, he WAS listening!"

Micah gave each of us, The Sisters, The Mother, a quick look in turn, then stolidly set his face back to his plate and his supper.

Oh for a Vulcan Mind Meld!

40 hours and counting!

I am a dinosaur.

I am antiquated.

I am old-fashioned.

I am, if not obsolete, an enigma.

I am a "stay-at-home-mother".

I am the only one of my kind left at my church.

I should be in a museum. Or a Zoo. Well, some days this IS a zoo.

Where have all the home-makers gone? (long time passing...)

The last other stay-at-home-mom at church has become a job-seeker. She is joining the hustle and bustle, the REAL world. I am envious a little. For several hours a week she will be a PERSON. Herself. Not "Mom". Not "Dear". Not "my wife".

I've forgotten what that is like.

I think I used to enjoy that!

I think I used to enjoy being ME.

LAURALEA

I don't hate being here. I don't hate being a "stay-at-home-enigma". Sometimes it's rather fun to watch people struggling to place me. To categorize me. To find a slot in which to put me so they can understand me. It's not wholly unpleasant to be un-slot-able! It's not bad being different.

But it's sometimes lonely.

Not even physically, or emotionally lonely as much as mentally lonely. Sometimes it's just knowing that there's no-one else home. Anywhere.

sigh

...and here, ladies and gentlemen, we have our "House Wife". This is a rare exhibit, and in exceptional condition. This particular specimen is exhibited in traditional "House-Wife" garb. Note the fuzzy pink, vintage slippers, and the hair rollers. I must say, we had quite a time procuring this exhibit, as she was the only one of her kind left anywhere in existence in North America, and we are very excited to be able to have her on display here today. This species was believed to be extinct. You see her here in her natural habitat, with the kitchen there to her left, and the Easy-Boy recliner in front of the large screen T.V.-note the Bon-bons within easy reach, next to the Soap Opera Digest on the coffee table. Please, sir, keep your voice down. She is accustomed to solitary conditions and is very sensitive to loud noises. Now, moving along... here we have what used to be known as a "General Practitioner"...

So. This morning, before anyone else was moving around, Micah meandered into the kitchen with his water balloon, to where I was making the breakfast waffles. He was quite proud of that balloon, as it was the first balloon he'd ever been able to tie off himself.

We got chatting, and somehow we got onto the problem of pregnancy. I can't remember how it came about, but all of a sudden he was saying, "Well, So-and-So couldn't have a baby". To which I replied, that, well, as soon as a girl starts having her period, she could, technically have a baby.

So, he says, what's a period?

Ah.

I was, momentarily, stumped, but then I reasoned he's 10- well, really, only about three weeks shy of 11. Why shouldn't he know what a period is?

So, I told him.

I drew diagrams in the air with my hands, and told him of the wonders of the female gynecology. How the uterus is made to be like a nest for the baby to grow in. How the Father has the seeds in his testicles, and the Mother has the eggs in her ovaries. How the Father's seeds come through his penis inside the Mother, and when they meet an egg a baby can be made. How every month the uterus gets ready for making a baby and if a baby isn't conceived the uterus sheds it's protective lining, which is made up of blood and tissues to feed the baby, and then the whole process starts again.

Yup. I told him.

So, he says, What would happen to the marble inside this water balloon if I put it in the freezer?

Jes' sittin' here listenin' to Yesterday USA... (SuuperrrrStation!) ... with ol' Bill Bragg. I'm not ezac'ly sure where he's from, but I gotta say it sure 'nuf makes ya wanna talk like yer from some place way down South. My, oh my. I think I need a Mint Julip.

Ya gotta love Yesterday USA.

Or ya don't!

Just reading Linea's blog, (http://www.linealanoie.com/)- (one of these days I'll get Randall to show me how to do the link thing!- hey I'm doing well to remember my user name and password and to be writing here at all!) and was again reminded of some thoughts I've had about the whole web-community that's out there.

Somehow over the past five years or so, we've been drawn into the cyber-web. We have cyber-friends. We keep cyber-journals. We have cyber-connections that would have been unimaginable five years ago. I read someone's weblog and am encouraged, or challenged or uplifted. I read a friend's cyber-journal and God visits me through the encouraging words someone else has written to speak life into that friend's pain or despair. When did community begin in cyber-space? It is awe-inspiring to me, to think that we can be scattered all over the globe, and yet can be so connected. It is a most encouraging and humbling thing to ponder. It still boggles my mind that my friend in Prince Albert can be dealing with life issues, and that an unseen, unmet friend in England is there with words of support and encouragement.

I wonder if the World Wide Web is a kind of picture of the Holy Spirit connection that believers have... maybe of the Holy Spirit himself... it's there at the touch of a finger- the click of a mouse button, yet is so vast and endless that you can't even imagine the end of it. It brings people together, even when they are physically apart...it is the common ground on which relationship happens... it is both physical and metaphysical... like stepping into a Madeleine L'Engle book!

It's an exciting use of technology and it will be interesting to see where it goes.