Avoidance Issues
05/22/2009
For me, one of the interesting things about being a clergy spouse, pastor’s/preacher’s wife—whatever you like to call me—is what happens when I run into or narrowly miss church people at the grocery store. Apparently, a few feel I am to be avoided at all costs.
If you knew me, you’d know that I don’t give a rat’s rump why you weren’t in church last Sunday. If we’re friends or even friendly acquaintances, I’m sure I missed seeing you, but (and some may think this is blasphemous coming from moi) I don’t believe it is, in any way, a sin to miss church once in a while. Nor do I think there’s any condemnation in leaving our church for another one, or in taking a break from churchgoing altogether. (I know—GASP!)
To everything turn, turn, turn, sister. There is a season for being extremely active in church doings and for participating from the sidelines. There also is a time for sitting in the sand on Sunday morning and contemplating your blessings at the edge of the sea. (Really, what better place?)
When the Bible talks about the Lord’s sanctuary, it’s not referring to a pew-filled room that’s carpeted in red. God’s spirit dwells in you and in me. He’s with us wherever we go, even at the Piggly Wiggly.
I didn’t mean to get my preach on. Back to the grocery store.
I’m one of those unfortunate souls who suck at recognizing faces out of context. If I typically see you in the sanctuary, dressed in a skirt and heels, I may not recognize you in the ice cream aisle wearing flip-flops. So if I’m not instantly warm, it’s nothing personal. I intend to be friendly, but authentically so—not because I’m trying to live up to someone’s idealized version of me. I’m definitely nobody’s ideal today, in my dog-hair covered t-shirt with shorts and no makeup. I haven’t flossed, and I don’t remember if I put on deodorant. Now who should be avoiding whom?
If I miss seeing you at church, I may tell you—but it’s not a dig, and there’s no double-meaning behind it. Having been on the receiving end of the sing-songy “We missed you last Sunday,” I know it can sometimes sound like the bathed-in-syrup version of “Where were you that was more important than being where I was?”
If I’m not in church and neither my son nor I are sick, I may be at the beach, at Barnes & Noble, or in a diner eating sugar on my grits (which, I’ll admit, is southern sacrilege, but I shan’t repent). If someone has a problem with that, my deep and reverent response is Jimmy cracked corn, and I don’t care. And God bless you.
So don’t waste energy trying to avoid me at the grocery store. Chances are I won’t recognize you anyway. But if I do, I’m not wondering why you weren’t at church and whether your salvation hangs in the balance. I’m too busy trying to remind myself of all the reasons why I really don’t need that pint of Ben & Jerry’s.
12:05AM • Comments (14)
What are you laughing at?
03/13/2009
I'm not a cat person. I'm not even a kitten person. I'm partial to puppies. And yet, I'm really laughing at this video. I think this little girl is named Maddie Kelly. Maddie and I would be BFFs if I was, like, three decades younger and in her class. I just know it.
9:03PM • Comments (6)
Definitely Not Viole[n]t
02/14/2009
9:02PM • Comments (1)
Dry
02/04/2009
I live in an area with relatively mild winters and virtually no snow. But it’s quite cold and snowing for the second time in less than a month, which means the polar ice caps are melting and my coastal town will end up below sea level. I guess that’s okay. I’ve always wanted to live in the mountains.
Anyway, since it’s cold, the heat pump in our house is running constantly, which makes the air quite dry.
In the morning, I awake to discover that my tongue has been replaced by a Lay’s potato chip, and my skin is like powdered-sugar doughnut. (Do I make you hungry?) This certainly does not bode well for my few remaining areas of under-eye skin that aren't yet wrinkled. I haven’t paid particular attention to my eyelids lately, but I wonder if they are starting to look “crepey,” as in resembling crepe paper. (I don’t think that's an official word, but surely you've heard it if you’ve ever had a makeup counter salesperson try to sell you overpriced eye cream.)
When I had pneumonia and was continually running my humidifier, I noticed that even though it felt as if the life was slowly being drained from my body via my mucous membranes, my skin looked positively luminous! Then an allergist had to go and ruin everything by informing me that frequent humidifier use creates an overgrowth of dust mites in bedding and carpets. And I'm very allergic to dust mites. Actually, what I--and anyone else who is allergic to dust--am really allergic to is an enzyme that is present in dust mite poop. (Still hungry?) So much for my in-bedroom spa.
I bet those microscopic little devils are totally loving the flaky state I'm in.
8:02PM • Comments (5)
Sweet Dreams
02/03/2009
6:02AM • Comments (2)
Pie? Oh, My!
01/23/2009
I'm feeling a little gypped.
It's 10:30 p.m., and I just learned that today was National Pie Day. Had I known sooner, I would've shunned the slice of creamy, dreamy coconut cake I helped Bugaboo eat after dinner as a show of solidarity for all-American pie. Well, maybe not. Most likely not. But I would've been sure to eat a piece of pie at some point in my day--you know, out of respect. In the same way that I make sure to drink a margarita on Cinco de Mayo. Because it's just the right thing to do.
11:01PM • Comments (7)



