My tongue is in my hand…

Archive for July 2009

Through various first hand sources, I have gathered entertaining information regarding the latest ministry efforts of two sister churches. Well, to be honest, they aren’t sister churches, they are a split off of one church, but they should be (could be!) sister churches, so I, because I can, will refer to them as such. I will refer to one as home base church (hbc), and one as grass roots church (grc). Those are my personal nicknames for them. You do not have to like them. You, in fact, do not have to read this at all 🙂

So, home base church had Vacation Bible School (VBS) this week. In case, unlike me, you do not live in the Bible Belt and have no idea what VBS is, it’s basically Sunday School on Prozac. If you don’t know what Sunday School is, you should just use context clues. It’s like school, on Sunday…and it’s at church, so it’s about church, the Bible, etc.

I’ll tell you right now that the selling points of VBS are whatever theme-based decorations, snacks, and songs you have. This year’s theme for HBC was a camping one, and the set up was awesome. A lot of effort was made- and it shows. The sanctuary stage really looked like a mountain campsite. Good job guys! The snacks were also awesome (so I’ve been told), and the music had “music videos” with kids doing the dance moves (which all the kids 7+ seemed to really enjoy and try to emulate).

Their adventure happened Tuesday night (night 3) when during a thunderstorm, the power went out and stayed out leaving all the kids (including toddlers and babies) and however many adults, to make their way by cell phone light for the next 45 min or so, waiting for parents to pick up the kids. Too bad they gave out mini flashlights for all the “campers” to take home the night before! It’s been reported that some campers had to leave their pizza rolls in mid-bite due to the power outage, and the pastor’s son apparently RE-FUSED to abandon his goldfish snack. No sir, he said. I believe grandpa had to step in. After the screaming subsided, there was apparently an impressive sing-a-long. You can’t keep a good VBS down.

Tonight was the wrap up, where all the campers got to show off for mom/dad/grandma/grandpa, etc. My personal favorite things were: a certain child who rolled around and I think, did flips on stage while everyone else tried hard to sing and follow the motions, a certain other child who was so completely hyped up about performance that when there were not set motions, he was throwing punches in the air and jumping around like he was about to kickbox (watch out devil, he’s ready to rumble!), and a certain teenager, who I know of as an outdoorsman, who had been helping out and apparently knew all the motions and dance moves and stood by the stage demonstrating for the kids. When I asked him about this later, he confessed that it was his secret talent. Looks like the cat’s out of the bag now! Don’t you think So You Think You Can Dance could use an outdoorsy guy? 😉

Grass Roots Church had and outreach project this week (Wednesday night). In preparation for this event, my oldest friend reported that she was attacked by fire ants while putting out flyers in the community, to which she said: “Are you freakin’ kidding me? I’m doing God’s work here!” The fact that she talks to ants that bite her is one of the very things I love so dearly about her J

So, the project was to go into a nearby community that is very needy and pass out nonperishables and a hotdog meal. The flyers that my dear friend sacrificed her little flip flopped feat for were apparently blown away (probably in the same storm that knocked out HBC’s power). So, no one knew they were coming. It was reported that an inebriated fellow told them quite colorfully to remove themselves from the premises upon which they stood. He apparently did this with enough vigor for one mom to put her kids away in the car…Yay! Jesus loves you!

Also, a man I know of as a Sunday School Teacher and Deacon apparently was packing some heat, just in case. This is all well and good, but I can’t for the life of me imagine him pulling a weapon, ever, for any circumstances. Now, I could see him frying you up some eggs and bacon at an all church breakfast, and reciting some Max Lucado, but brandishing a weapon? Hard to imagine.  I suppose he has a secret side of him as well J

The outreach turned out just fine, around 60 hotdog meals were given out, with some people coming back for 2nds and 3rds. I’m assuming much of the nonperishables found good homes as well. This is one of many out in the community-free food-no strings attached events/outreaches that this group has done in this community and I hope it’s getting the point across…love. There is love, big love, God’s love.

In keeping with that train of thought, back to HBC. I’ve got to say, watching the kids up there on stage made me think of what a good thing it is, to get in front of a bunch of people and know that even if you roll around, miss your cue, kickbox, or even get it just right, you are loved, praised, and embraced just the same. Because that’s love. That’s God’s love.

And that’s what both churches are doing their best to do, within their communities, and in their own ways- love.

One thing though, HBC: I get that pixie sticks are cheap and stuff, but really? Goodie bags with sugar sticks? I guess that’s what we get for letting you take the kids 5 nights in a row 😉

UPDATE: You know what the end of VBS treats were at GRC? A massive pixie stick.

Oh yea, God has a sense of humor.

Posted on: July 30, 2009

Sometimes I think people need courage more than strength.

Posted on: July 29, 2009

I wish the nights were longer. I have so much to say.

I hate never being able to go home…that home is gone. I just want to sit in the barn with that sweet hay smell, that old worn wood. I just want to walk to the creek, in the valley, through the trees…I just want to pick some blackberries and eat them right there, hot from the sun…I just want to feel the porch fan of my grandma’s porch, skip the sqeaky boards…I just want to walk to the store and get penny candy, little caramels…I just want to catch fireflies, make homemade icecream, lay in the hammock, walk up the gravel road, smell the honeysuckle, watch the sunset, watch the four wheelers kick up dust, watch the goats eat kudzu, even haul them water in that black bucket, scoop sweet feed for their trough…I just want to lay in the grass, lay in the dogwood tree…I want a bonfire at the sawmill, I want to go swimming at Julie’s, I want the rec room with all our carvings on the rafters, the curtainless windows of my room…I want a dusty car, an old tree swing, I want to walk through Maw Maw’s house again, touch the green wall. I want to meet Julie midway, I want stray dogs and baling hay and cornfields mixed with sunflowers. I want laying out on the back deck, top untied, no one to see…there’s no substitute for the the freedom we had, but there was a price, to keep it, to lose it, and it all cost too much.

I hate to sound bitchy or like I think I’m above others, but sometimes it really amazes me how dumb people are, in general, as a whole. Why? Why can I go through a whole day and feel like the smartest person I’ve encountered? To be perfectly honest, it’s tiring. Annoying. My family is tiring, annoying. I am so sick of miserable people. Goddamnit. Even when I’m upset I’m not as miserable as these people. Good Lord help me. I crave certain people, certain conversations…Oh My God Cheetos are good. And so is this $2.97 Merlot. And the Eminem I’m listening to…I’m so super classy tonight. Now what was I going to say before I got distracted by Cheetos? Oh yea, miserable people. Needy people. Shut the fuck up with your whining. I am not inclined to feel bad for you or really give a shit, considering you are ALWAYS  miserable. Just stop. I mean really, if it’s so bad just go ahead a kill yourself already, you know? What’s the point? If everything is as horrible as you say, just give up! That’s why I have to be an optimist. I would most definitely kill myself if I weren’t. Or at the very least be a drug addicted whore. I mean really, if there’s no hope, nothing good, no promise, then WHY THE HELL DID YOU EVEN GET UP THIS MORNING? Why do you continue feeding yourself? Why did you get dressed? Seriously, what are you doing still living if it’s all gone to hell with no hope for redemption? And I’m not saying I think people should commit suicide. I’m saying people should just shut up when they are whining for the 10th year in a row. I mean, I know everyone’s got to whine. What am I doing right now? Everyone worries, everyone vents. But I mean, there should be a limit on it. Or at least crack a joke while you act miserable. It will make me want to kick you in the face just a little less.

I’m getting sad because the cheetos are almost gone. : (. Swizz Beats is on now, I made a hiphop playlist today. Now what was I saying? Oh yea, kicking. I have a kick list. I started this list when I started finding out about all these shitty people that people that I’m helping at work have had to deal with. If you’re on the kick list, it means should I ever see you, I will most likely kick you immediately. I’m too nice to have a shit list. I don’t say shit unless there are extreme circumstances. And besides, what’s a shit list do? A kick list is very specific. If you’re on the kick list, you’re getting kicked. MAN I just ate the last Cheeto. Damnit. They were good.

I just spilled wine everywhere. It got on the wall. Oops. I think I cleaned it up good enough. I defintely giggled.  Jason will surely see it and bitch about it. Because he is like a woman who bitches about stupid shit that no one really cares about. Or perhaps, just things I do not care about. The thing is, there is only so much room inside me to really care about things. And it’s never gonna stupid stuff, because as I pointed out earlier. I’m not stupid. I mean, really, there are other things you could criticize me with: disorganized, distracted, late,  unhealthy, unpolished, undisciplined, etc, but I’m not stupid. I know that for sure.

I’m eating Doritos now, they are not as good as the Cheetos, they are a little stale, but they are serving their purpose. I like to eat when I drink. It completes the experience for me. And Cee-Lo is on now. I do love his voice. I love rap. Rap is great for a poet to listen to. I love the things that flow, that rhyme. Sure, sometimes it’s dumb, but sometimes is is just so freaking incredible. And I just appreciate the flow, the attitude, the honesty, the rhythm.

I’m getting sleepy now. Still have 1/2 a glass left though, so I’m finishing it. You know what I don’t understand? How people can keep being dumb. Do you think that people know they are dumb and just don’t care? Or don’t they know? That would be sad I guess, either way. This song makes me think of middle school (In Due Time, from the Soul Food soundtrack, OutKast feat. Cee-Lo). Middle school wasn’t bad. No school was bad for me. But middle school was actually great. Because you’re able to do stuff, but you have NO responsibilty and are years from it. What good years, 13, 14,  15.  15 was high school, but freshman year…

I’m going in for one more glass of wine. It’s so easy to not care about a hangover when you’re 3 glasses in….I have also moved on to dark chocolate chips (there weren’t very many doritos left…) I do believe I just moved up in classiness for snack food. I know not everyone needs so much time alone, so I really try to just not make a big deal about it, and try to spend time with Natalie and Jason, but OH MY it drives me crazy sometimes. You know, at one point, Jason worked nights and Natalie didn’t talk yet…I of course am glad that Natalie is talking now…not so glad that Jason doesn’t have a job, but you know, no one is happy about that kind of thing…It’s just so weird, I crave certain interactions all day (and don’t always get them), but then other interactions are so damn trying on my nerves and niceness. I just want to say ‘LEAVE ME ALONE. JUST LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE, DAMNIT!”. Of course that’s not really very “family” oriented. I’m sure it doesn’t help that my family was very partitioned emotionally, I was almost always able to keep to myself when ever I wanted, for how ever long I wanted. And I was very social, very involved in things outside of the home, but when I wanted to be alone, I could be. I didn’t spend a lot of time being around my family for no particular reason (like meals or holidays).

Alright, I do believe I am drunk enough to stop typing. It’s a good place to be tonight.

Posted on: July 22, 2009

I’m pretty sure that my attempts at a more “normal” blog have come to an end. I started a blog that would be more focused on domesticy stuff…but it’s really too much effort. Unless it’s poetry, everytihng will just be here in a big jumble.

Lord, I’m tired. Too tired to move. Move me, please. Move in me, around me. Keep me safe. Keep those I love safe.

I’m tired of doing things. Do things for me. Handle things for me. Take care of things for me, I’m too tired. Weary past my heart. You do not grow weary.

I’m tired of holding everything, everyone together.

Please hold everyone together, or be with them as the fall apart. Please hold everything together, or be with us as it falls apart.

I am tired, I am anxious, I am weary, I am scared, I am ready to have the weight off my shoulders. I am ready to have someone else take care of me and my life. You are never tired, anxious, weary, scared. You are more than these things, you are beyond these things.

Please, Lord, take care of me. Handle things for me, do things for me, move me, speak for me, whatever you need to do so I don’t have to do this, so I don’t freak out or give up. I am giving up, to you. I give up trying to do all this. I can’t do it. I give up. I’m not doing anything but waiting for your movements in me, through me, around me. I’m done with it. I just want to be a child, taken care of, enjoying life. Living. Living full of wonder and excitement and joy and peace. I don’t want to worry. I don’t want to be in charge of stuff. I just want to be taken care of. I just want to wake up, breath the morning and be grateful, peaceful, joyful, and never worried. I just want to be excited to wake, excited for a new day, no dread, no anxiety, no tasks that feel too much, too big, too scary.

No one makes me feel safe. No one makes me feel sure. No one takes care of me. No one does this but you. Only you can handle it all. Only you don’t make me feel uncertain. Only you lay comfort over my anxious heart. Only you hold me close, tight to your chest and brush my hair from the tears on my face, tell me it is already okay. Tell me you are already handling it and I can let go. Only you allow me to let go. Only you allow me to be free of my worries. No one else says “Child, stop crying, you are mine, you are fine”. No one else says I can stop trying to hold it all up, hold it all together. Others say I’m strong. No one else says I can stop  and leave it to them. No one else promises to hold me, always, all day. You are the arms. You are the comfort I seek that no one else provides. You are the love that abides within my heart, the depths of my soul. You are what makes me whole, what fills the spaces where I ache, where I cry for comfort. You my confidant. You are my best friend. You are my parent, Father, Mother too. You are the lover of my heart and soul. You know my needs, my dreams, my desires. You don’t deny me these things, you lay them before me and so often my eyes are flooded with worldly things, my mind with tasks and burdens, my heart numb to the divine, the supernatural, tired by living. You want more for me and you wait patiently for me to lay before you, open. Broken open, ready to accept everything that waits for me, ready to uncurl my fingers from my life, cast off the guise of control, and just let you do that, just trust and be free. Let your waves and breakers crash over me. Forget the world. The world has rules designed by liars, by  the faithless, by the fearful. Forget the things that don’t apply to me, a child of God, a precious daughter, held above the flood. I love you. I need you. I am more with you than I am on my own. I understand that you are beyond this world and the understanding of this world. I understand that you operate by the divine and supernatural. I understand that you are more than my concerns, that I should take heart, as you already triumph beyond my fears, beyond the tragedies and triumphs we perceive, there you are, waiting for us to see the beauty, waiting for us to let go and stop making it so hard to live.

I need help. Help, help help.

Thank you for always being here for me, for always loving me, caring for me. I need a miracle. I need help. I need a lot of miracles. I need you. I love you. Thank you.

I give up. I let go. I am broken. I am weary. I am anxious. I am open. I am tyring to let go, and it is really hard. I hear the things I “should” do echoing, yelling at me, pulling at me, scaring me, telling me it’s up to me, I am in control, I am going to screw up, everything depends on me. Yelling these things into my chest, knotting my stomach. I don’t want to believe that. I don’t want that. I don’t want to have to do anything. I just want to be taken care of. Take care of me. Please take care of me and my family. I am seeking you. I am seeking your serenity, peace, comfort. I am seeking courage, wisdom, relaxation. I am seeking miracles. I am seeking relief. I am seeking alleviation. I am seeking freedom. I am seeking solutions. I am seeking joy. I am seeking fresh air. I am seeking assurance. I am seeking resolution. I am seeking simplicity. I am seeking fullfillment. I am seeking love. I am seeking companionship. I am seeking intimacy. I am seeking to be taken care of. I am seeking ways to let go. I am seeking those quiet, steady heart’s desires that have always lain within. I am seeking those passionate dreams that radiate my soul. I am seeking…I have been loved and forgiven from the begining of the life I know. I am never guilty, I am loved unconditionally. I already understand this free. I am seeking the rest. I am seeking the rest. I am seeking the free fall of faith. I am seeking the joy of childhood. I am seeking the exuberance of weightlessness. I am seeking the person I can be when I am this free.

Maybe I have too many X chromosomes, got married too young and too long ago, was raised too “Christian” or just think too much, but I just can’t understand the term “meaningless sex”. In fact, I think it’s an incredibly stupid and naïve term. There’s no such thing. Not that I think all sexual encounters are “special”, but they also aren’t meaningless. If it is so meaningless, then what’s the point? If it’s truly just about getting off and absolutely nothing else, then why bring someone else into it? There’s a whole industry dedicated to creative ways to get off on your own. Sex means something. It’s not just the fact that skin on skin beats out DIY sex, either. Because it matters whose skin it is. People who say it doesn’t are liars. It matters. There are certain people we’ll put our skin on and certain people we won’t. Who we do it with means something. Why we do it means something. Even inebriated. There’s a reason why we engage in things, or allow things. There’s a reason why we engage in or allow things with the people we engage and allow things with. It means something. Everything means something.

Another concept I find stupid and naive: friends with benefits. Oh, I get it. I get the point. I get why people sell it and buy it. It sounds win-win. But just like anything else that sounds too good to be true, it is (not to mention that I think most of the time one person is really expecting more, the other, less). I just don’t get why people think it’s really going to work out so well. Do you really think you can get that intimate with someone on a fairly consistent basis and neither one of you will develop some kind of attachment? You don’t know much about people (or yourself) if you think that. Of course, if you know for a fact of a situation in which this has truly worked, let me know. I just don’t think so. I think you’re better not defining the relationship and continuously re evaluating it than you are calling it this. At least you both know that you just don’t know.

I say there’s just no such thing as “just sex”. There are motives and expectations attached to every interaction we have, particularly ones where we remove our clothes. And all these motives and expectations are different. Even the reasons as to why each person would choose to engage in “meaningless sex”. Each person has a reason they want to have sex with the other person without being in a committed, romantic relationship with that person. That reason, that motive, means something. Everything means something. Sex means something. It may not mean “love”, but it means something. If it didn’t mean anything, we not only wouldn’t bother doing it, but we also wouldn’t crave it, talk about it, cry about it, fight about it, break up because of it, get together because of it, or write songs, books, and movies about it. If it didn’t matter, then, it just wouldn’t matter, you know?

“Meaningless sex” is a cop out term, so for whatever reason, we won’t dig a little deeper into the significance of our interactions and our motives behind them.