Okay family, one week from today. Here is the long awaited list. I'm sorry it is so slow in coming. I am lamenting entering into my late 20s however. I'm sure you understand. We can celebrate when I come home at the end of May with grandma, grandpa, Amy and Emily, Carla and Tom, Shannon and Gerald, and Marsha. It'll be fun.
Ann’s 27th Birthday Wish List
-DVD Connie and Carla
-DVD Jesus Christ Superstar The Movie (1974 version) If not this then, CD Jesus Christ Superstar, the original Broadway cast
-CD “Prayer Cycle” various artists
-CD Quiet Lovely
-CD The Cranberries “No Need to Argue”
-CD Jet
-*Nintendo Game: Super Mario Brothers 2
-*Nintendo Game: Donkey Kong/Donkey Kong Jr.
-*Nintendo Game: Dr. Mario
-Book: Plan B by Anne Lamot (the sequel to Traveling Mercies)
-Book: Genesis: Translation and Commentary by Robert Alter
-Book: The Book of Exodus: a Critical Theological Commentary by Brevard S. Childs
-Book: Sinéad: Her Life And Music by Jimmy Guterman
-Sheets (double bed, taupe, cream, or some neutral color)
-Ink Cartridges color and black for HP1350; Hp Photo Paper
-Money to pay bills.
* These Nintendo games are easy to buy on Ebay – just punch in the name of the game and Nintendo NHS Game System. Jeremy can help you if you get confused.
Happy Shopping!
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Monday, May 02, 2005
Austin ISD has done it again. After not receiving January or March's paychecks, I did manage to find my April paycheck in the mailbox Friday right on time. However, they only paid me $75 a day for my work, nevermind that that wage was two promotions ago. I currently make (as of last week) $115 a day, and on my last paycheck, I should have been paid $95 a day, but of course wasn't.
AISD, you're killin' me.
But at least some of it was there, so I am grateful for that I guess. Hopefully they will issue me another check soon with my supplementary income.
I am counting my blessings, to be sure (I'll be unemployed as of May 25th again), I am just never sure the package they'll come in.
AISD, you're killin' me.
But at least some of it was there, so I am grateful for that I guess. Hopefully they will issue me another check soon with my supplementary income.
I am counting my blessings, to be sure (I'll be unemployed as of May 25th again), I am just never sure the package they'll come in.
Friday, April 29, 2005
Two ear infections and a viral respiratory infection later, I am finally returning to my blog. Yes, blog I missed you. I cannot tell a lie. Not to mention, writhing in bed for five days with a 103.2 degree fever is never a positive experience.
Even the babies are sick. Over a week ago, the three of us developed a cough. My roommate's vet mom says it sounds like they have allergies. I of course got the viral infection. Oh well.
I am doing better. Fortunately, the illness fell over a weekend, so I only missed a day and a half of school. Beautiful Sarah Cooper took me to the doctor Saturday and stayed with me most of that day. She played my mom, insisting on drinking water, bathing in lukewarm water, and taking my medicine even if it gives me a tummy ache. She was a god-send, because it is HARD to be sick and live 2 days away from home. Otherwise you get really narcissistic about how no one loves you, no one visits, no one cares if you waste away to nothing . . . blah, blah, blah. I'm really good at it. So Sarah kept me sane, at least on Saturday.
And now I'm back at work, back at Mosaic events, and back at the job search. I finished my resume last night and need to write my cover letter this weekend. Fun times on the homefront.
Lots of love and phlegm,
Ann
Even the babies are sick. Over a week ago, the three of us developed a cough. My roommate's vet mom says it sounds like they have allergies. I of course got the viral infection. Oh well.
I am doing better. Fortunately, the illness fell over a weekend, so I only missed a day and a half of school. Beautiful Sarah Cooper took me to the doctor Saturday and stayed with me most of that day. She played my mom, insisting on drinking water, bathing in lukewarm water, and taking my medicine even if it gives me a tummy ache. She was a god-send, because it is HARD to be sick and live 2 days away from home. Otherwise you get really narcissistic about how no one loves you, no one visits, no one cares if you waste away to nothing . . . blah, blah, blah. I'm really good at it. So Sarah kept me sane, at least on Saturday.
And now I'm back at work, back at Mosaic events, and back at the job search. I finished my resume last night and need to write my cover letter this weekend. Fun times on the homefront.
Lots of love and phlegm,
Ann
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Ha ha, I gotcha. No more posting on 4-10-05. I figured out how to click "No Posts." Genius. I'm getting this blog thing down. 4-10-05 was getting out of hand, and though I love the encouragement, the rest of y'all were gettin' on my ever-lovin' last nerve. That's the nice way to put it.
I laid in bed this afternoon after an exhausting day of work, and contemplated my response to "the world" (must everything be so dramatic when we lie in bed brainstorming bright comebacks?). To be honest, it contained lots of words that my grandma wouldn't approve of, so instead of pouring out my heart about the absurdity of anyone not hiring because of gender; and the absurdity that we even allow our churches who bear Christ's name to even continue in their sexism; and the absurdity that we have to tolerate sexism and de-humanization, but people can't tolerate frusterated responses; and the absurdity that a friend compared me to a homosexual being hired at a church; add to that some angry words about Jesus in the Temple, and lots of son's-of and friggin's i got tired and fell asleep.
I'm better now, just worn out. My parents are disappointed I clicked "no reply," but they haven't been having this conversation for 8 years straight, in class and out of class. They (and neither have most of the men who blogged) haven't had people argue with them, throw scripture at them, write nasty bogs about them (remember that one lynnette?), or condemn them for being a woman trying to use her gift in the church.
It's fricking absurd. The irony is, the Westwinds thing didn't even upset me that much. I mean, it's not like I didn't expect rejection, I was just startled because it came from a church that I assumed (wrongly according to commentor #42 on my blog) would accept me. I'm smart enough to not apply at a church that says, "We are looking for a man with the following qualities . . ." or "We are a fundamental church looking for a shepherd . . ." Okay, come on. Obviously I won't get hired there. I was just surprised by Westwinds and felt like sharing with the rents and friends how difficult it is to find a job. Never did I know that it would have this response.
I feel like Brittany Spears.
I hate Brittany Spears.
I do wish I made as much money as Brittany Spears though. I cannot tell a lie.
Peace and goodbye. From here on out, it's dead fish and sermons.
I laid in bed this afternoon after an exhausting day of work, and contemplated my response to "the world" (must everything be so dramatic when we lie in bed brainstorming bright comebacks?). To be honest, it contained lots of words that my grandma wouldn't approve of, so instead of pouring out my heart about the absurdity of anyone not hiring because of gender; and the absurdity that we even allow our churches who bear Christ's name to even continue in their sexism; and the absurdity that we have to tolerate sexism and de-humanization, but people can't tolerate frusterated responses; and the absurdity that a friend compared me to a homosexual being hired at a church; add to that some angry words about Jesus in the Temple, and lots of son's-of and friggin's i got tired and fell asleep.
I'm better now, just worn out. My parents are disappointed I clicked "no reply," but they haven't been having this conversation for 8 years straight, in class and out of class. They (and neither have most of the men who blogged) haven't had people argue with them, throw scripture at them, write nasty bogs about them (remember that one lynnette?), or condemn them for being a woman trying to use her gift in the church.
It's fricking absurd. The irony is, the Westwinds thing didn't even upset me that much. I mean, it's not like I didn't expect rejection, I was just startled because it came from a church that I assumed (wrongly according to commentor #42 on my blog) would accept me. I'm smart enough to not apply at a church that says, "We are looking for a man with the following qualities . . ." or "We are a fundamental church looking for a shepherd . . ." Okay, come on. Obviously I won't get hired there. I was just surprised by Westwinds and felt like sharing with the rents and friends how difficult it is to find a job. Never did I know that it would have this response.
I feel like Brittany Spears.
I hate Brittany Spears.
I do wish I made as much money as Brittany Spears though. I cannot tell a lie.
Peace and goodbye. From here on out, it's dead fish and sermons.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
I've been silent for a week now. What to say?
Let me begin with a disclaimer. This blog was a communicator, a linker of life between Ann in Texas and my family in Missouri, Hawaii, and Pennsyvania; my friends in Tennessee, Canada, France, DC, etc., and even my friends here in Austin who wanted to see the manuscript of a sermon, or hear the story of the dead fish, or whatever. Honest to God, I thought the only people who read my blog were my grandma, Lynnette and sometimes my parents when I called and told them to read it. Heck! My two sisters didn't even read it.
However, after an inquiry with a church who billed themselves as "Emergent" and a door closed because of gender, I suddenly find myself being consoled and criticized by 37 strangers and then some.
Flattered by my sudden popularity, and confused by the reprimands of those who know nothing more about me than I'm a woman in ministry who shares her issues with her friends and family online, I am at a loss of how to respond to 4-10-05's blog.
And so, a little testimony time . . .
When I was growing up, I thought women jokes were on par with blond jokes - nobody really believed them, it was just fun for them to crack silly jokes at an easily identifiable group of people (Why did the blond get fired from the M&M factory? She threw away all the W's!). However, when I got to college, naive Ann suddenly realized that some people really did believe that women were inferior, couldn't do some things, and shouldn't be in leadership in a church. That discovery floored me, and I spent the remaining four years at William Jewell college diligently working to educate my Christian peers about what I had discerned God says about women.
After graduation, I moved to Waco to attend Seminary. Now in the South (yes Texans, you are very Southern), I faced even more discrimination. Sexism and racism was much more prominant, and it scared me. Why was I attending a school where the dean had actually said to my face "I don't have a problem with women in ministry, I just wouldn't attend a church where a woman was a pastor." And that wasn't all of it, but at the risk of ruining the academic integrity of the institution, I won't get into the rest of it. My professors encouraged me to stick to school here in the South, to walk the wilderness and be a shining light. So I did, right or wrong, I did.
And now I've graduated and am a young woman who will probably never (or at least, not for a long time) be employed by a church. My church here in Austin had a staff member leave in January, and I was hoping to apply for his position (I love Mosaic!), but it looks like they are not interested in filling that position, and are consequently, not currently hiring. Besides that, my mother worries about me paying the bills even if I were employed by a church like Mosaic where ministers raise their own support. But doesn't someone somewhere want to hire me? Well, let's take a look at the strikes against me: I'm female, I'm young, I look even younger, I'm progressive, I'm a democrat and I'm not interested in being the damn children's minister (no offense to children's ministers the world over, female or male). So why don't I choose a denomination other that Baptist or Nondenominational? Because it is very hard to get hired by another denomination. Presbyterians, Episcopalians want someone who knows intimately the beliefs and histroy of their denomination. They want people educated by their own seminaries, and though they may be open to someone with my qualifications and experiences, most would be hard pressed to hire me as their minister.
To be quite honest, Westwinds appealed to me much more after I read Vince's comment. And so, I am sorry if I have added to their pain. But perhaps it is time to suck it up buttercup and really take a look at the essentials in life and faith. And that's what gets me. Do we as churches hire ministers to minister to our already Christians and work carefully with their archaic faith, using gloves and padding to ensure we don't shatter their worldviews, or do we minister to the world? My non-Christian friends get the funniest and most embarrassing (for Christians) look on their faces when I try to explain why I haven't found a job yet and that I am most often rejected because of my gender. And we, as a Christian body, have managed to push more people away from Christ because we are caught up in gender instead of God.
It's a fine line. I remember ministering carefully and slowly to people and congregations who still embraced a 1950s folk religion faith. But I know too the excitement of living life with those who are ready to move from breastmilk to cheerios. How much more could we accomplish if we spent less time arguing over who gets to minister and actually started ministering.
I don't know. Just some thoughts. I'm ready to get on with life. I'm tired of my mother calling me at 7:30 in the morning to read me who's commented on the 4-10-05 blog now.
Peace to all, and to all a good afternoon. Sunday shall be a day of rest.
Let me begin with a disclaimer. This blog was a communicator, a linker of life between Ann in Texas and my family in Missouri, Hawaii, and Pennsyvania; my friends in Tennessee, Canada, France, DC, etc., and even my friends here in Austin who wanted to see the manuscript of a sermon, or hear the story of the dead fish, or whatever. Honest to God, I thought the only people who read my blog were my grandma, Lynnette and sometimes my parents when I called and told them to read it. Heck! My two sisters didn't even read it.
However, after an inquiry with a church who billed themselves as "Emergent" and a door closed because of gender, I suddenly find myself being consoled and criticized by 37 strangers and then some.
Flattered by my sudden popularity, and confused by the reprimands of those who know nothing more about me than I'm a woman in ministry who shares her issues with her friends and family online, I am at a loss of how to respond to 4-10-05's blog.
And so, a little testimony time . . .
When I was growing up, I thought women jokes were on par with blond jokes - nobody really believed them, it was just fun for them to crack silly jokes at an easily identifiable group of people (Why did the blond get fired from the M&M factory? She threw away all the W's!). However, when I got to college, naive Ann suddenly realized that some people really did believe that women were inferior, couldn't do some things, and shouldn't be in leadership in a church. That discovery floored me, and I spent the remaining four years at William Jewell college diligently working to educate my Christian peers about what I had discerned God says about women.
After graduation, I moved to Waco to attend Seminary. Now in the South (yes Texans, you are very Southern), I faced even more discrimination. Sexism and racism was much more prominant, and it scared me. Why was I attending a school where the dean had actually said to my face "I don't have a problem with women in ministry, I just wouldn't attend a church where a woman was a pastor." And that wasn't all of it, but at the risk of ruining the academic integrity of the institution, I won't get into the rest of it. My professors encouraged me to stick to school here in the South, to walk the wilderness and be a shining light. So I did, right or wrong, I did.
And now I've graduated and am a young woman who will probably never (or at least, not for a long time) be employed by a church. My church here in Austin had a staff member leave in January, and I was hoping to apply for his position (I love Mosaic!), but it looks like they are not interested in filling that position, and are consequently, not currently hiring. Besides that, my mother worries about me paying the bills even if I were employed by a church like Mosaic where ministers raise their own support. But doesn't someone somewhere want to hire me? Well, let's take a look at the strikes against me: I'm female, I'm young, I look even younger, I'm progressive, I'm a democrat and I'm not interested in being the damn children's minister (no offense to children's ministers the world over, female or male). So why don't I choose a denomination other that Baptist or Nondenominational? Because it is very hard to get hired by another denomination. Presbyterians, Episcopalians want someone who knows intimately the beliefs and histroy of their denomination. They want people educated by their own seminaries, and though they may be open to someone with my qualifications and experiences, most would be hard pressed to hire me as their minister.
To be quite honest, Westwinds appealed to me much more after I read Vince's comment. And so, I am sorry if I have added to their pain. But perhaps it is time to suck it up buttercup and really take a look at the essentials in life and faith. And that's what gets me. Do we as churches hire ministers to minister to our already Christians and work carefully with their archaic faith, using gloves and padding to ensure we don't shatter their worldviews, or do we minister to the world? My non-Christian friends get the funniest and most embarrassing (for Christians) look on their faces when I try to explain why I haven't found a job yet and that I am most often rejected because of my gender. And we, as a Christian body, have managed to push more people away from Christ because we are caught up in gender instead of God.
It's a fine line. I remember ministering carefully and slowly to people and congregations who still embraced a 1950s folk religion faith. But I know too the excitement of living life with those who are ready to move from breastmilk to cheerios. How much more could we accomplish if we spent less time arguing over who gets to minister and actually started ministering.
I don't know. Just some thoughts. I'm ready to get on with life. I'm tired of my mother calling me at 7:30 in the morning to read me who's commented on the 4-10-05 blog now.
Peace to all, and to all a good afternoon. Sunday shall be a day of rest.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
I am looking for a new job. In searching the online for a pastor-like position at a culturally relevant church, I found the following job posting . . .
___
"You probably connect with today’s culture if your iPod is part of your wardrobe; if your play lists include U2, Black-Eyed Peas, Moby, and Coldplay; if your library shelf contains N.T. Wright, Leonard Sweet, Bill Easum, Jim Collins, John Grisham and John Steinbeck; if your DVD collection goes beyond Disney to Cohen brothers, Oliver Stone, and Mel Gibson; and if you can successfully order at Starbucks without tripping over your tongue or holding up the line. Westwinds Community Church is seeking a subversive teacher/communicator and team player who can connect with the inquirer as well as the seasoned Christ-follower and who accurately and passionately exegetes Scripture and culture. This catalytic leader must guide the ongoing theological and cultural dialogue while exploring different approaches to ministry. Five years experience in an emergent church would be ideal as well as a master’s degree and/or seminary training."
___
to which I responded with an email . . .
___
i saw your job opening online and am curious about your church. I currently volunteer (preach, teach, brainstorm and perform manual labor) at an emergent church in austin, tx: Mosaic (www.mosaicaustin.org). I was involved at UBC in waco before that (www.ubcwaco.org) also preaching and teaching small group bible study. Having graduated from Truett Seminary last year, I currently work as a permanant sub at a high school here in austin, but am searching for a "real job" where I can use my gifts and pay the bills. any further info you can send me regarding your church and the specifics of the job you're looking to fill would be great.
peace,
ann pittman
____
after which I received the following message . . .
___
Hi Ann,
Shootin' straight from the hip to you Ann - I wish I could say we had arrived at accepting gals into a lead teaching position, but we aren't there yet! There has been progress, but because of a pretty major transition in losing our founding pastor about 9 months ago, we're taking any huge changes pretty slow right now.
It would have been interesting to see your resume etc., but at this time I'd be looking elsewhere. Sorry about that, but didn't want you to get your hopes up! I wish I could have been more positive!
Blessings on your search!
Norma Racey
Westwinds Community Church
___
So you can imagine how I feel now. Emergent is the moderate/progressive interdenominational church movement that has swept across the US, Britain, Australia and beyond. It is a response to fundamentalism, and an attempt to reclaim the beautiful traditions and truth of Christianity in an artistic, thoughtful, culturally relevant dialogue. For Westwinds Community Church to call themselves “culturally relevant” is a joke. Anyone or any church who wouldn’t hire a woman because she lacks the proper anatomy (i.e. is not a man) is not living in 2005. One of my friends wrote about how sad it is that Jesus could have been so progressive towards women 2000 years ago, but we insist on living minus that mission and truth. Christians should be the most progressive, truth embodying, gift embracing people on earth - why can we not step up to that challenge?
I remember now why I never wanted to be employed by a church.
___
"You probably connect with today’s culture if your iPod is part of your wardrobe; if your play lists include U2, Black-Eyed Peas, Moby, and Coldplay; if your library shelf contains N.T. Wright, Leonard Sweet, Bill Easum, Jim Collins, John Grisham and John Steinbeck; if your DVD collection goes beyond Disney to Cohen brothers, Oliver Stone, and Mel Gibson; and if you can successfully order at Starbucks without tripping over your tongue or holding up the line. Westwinds Community Church is seeking a subversive teacher/communicator and team player who can connect with the inquirer as well as the seasoned Christ-follower and who accurately and passionately exegetes Scripture and culture. This catalytic leader must guide the ongoing theological and cultural dialogue while exploring different approaches to ministry. Five years experience in an emergent church would be ideal as well as a master’s degree and/or seminary training."
___
to which I responded with an email . . .
___
i saw your job opening online and am curious about your church. I currently volunteer (preach, teach, brainstorm and perform manual labor) at an emergent church in austin, tx: Mosaic (www.mosaicaustin.org). I was involved at UBC in waco before that (www.ubcwaco.org) also preaching and teaching small group bible study. Having graduated from Truett Seminary last year, I currently work as a permanant sub at a high school here in austin, but am searching for a "real job" where I can use my gifts and pay the bills. any further info you can send me regarding your church and the specifics of the job you're looking to fill would be great.
peace,
ann pittman
____
after which I received the following message . . .
___
Hi Ann,
Shootin' straight from the hip to you Ann - I wish I could say we had arrived at accepting gals into a lead teaching position, but we aren't there yet! There has been progress, but because of a pretty major transition in losing our founding pastor about 9 months ago, we're taking any huge changes pretty slow right now.
It would have been interesting to see your resume etc., but at this time I'd be looking elsewhere. Sorry about that, but didn't want you to get your hopes up! I wish I could have been more positive!
Blessings on your search!
Norma Racey
Westwinds Community Church
___
So you can imagine how I feel now. Emergent is the moderate/progressive interdenominational church movement that has swept across the US, Britain, Australia and beyond. It is a response to fundamentalism, and an attempt to reclaim the beautiful traditions and truth of Christianity in an artistic, thoughtful, culturally relevant dialogue. For Westwinds Community Church to call themselves “culturally relevant” is a joke. Anyone or any church who wouldn’t hire a woman because she lacks the proper anatomy (i.e. is not a man) is not living in 2005. One of my friends wrote about how sad it is that Jesus could have been so progressive towards women 2000 years ago, but we insist on living minus that mission and truth. Christians should be the most progressive, truth embodying, gift embracing people on earth - why can we not step up to that challenge?
I remember now why I never wanted to be employed by a church.
golly, it's almost embarassing how dull my life has been lately. i am half inclined to delete the past few entries to get them off my blog. they're boring up my blog!!
unfortunatly, i've nothing more interesting to write. but i promise to you today that i will write no more nonsense - only good stories. blogs are for stories, journeys, adventures and contempletive conversation . . . not bitching about sickness.
sorry everyone. surely things will spice up sooner or later.
unfortunatly, i've nothing more interesting to write. but i promise to you today that i will write no more nonsense - only good stories. blogs are for stories, journeys, adventures and contempletive conversation . . . not bitching about sickness.
sorry everyone. surely things will spice up sooner or later.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
still sick. i cannot tell a lie. i really thought i was getting better, but i woke up today at 2pm sick again. whatever was living in my throat is now in my head. when i speak, my voice booms and echoes inside my ears, blasting me out of whatever seat i've taken. but when others speak? when others speak, i can hardly hear them!
"what was that you said?" i whisper as i plug my ears to lower the volume of my resonating vocal chords.
what a sight.
oh well. at least my illness cleared up for a few days so i was able to go back to work on thursday. i did threaten it with the taunts and annoyances of ghettofied teenagers if it didn't go away. but now that the weekend has arrived, the illness has decided the weather is beautiful, i am no longer at the high school and this is the perfect time to return.
thank you so much illness. i had really missed you.
sigh.
"what was that you said?" i whisper as i plug my ears to lower the volume of my resonating vocal chords.
what a sight.
oh well. at least my illness cleared up for a few days so i was able to go back to work on thursday. i did threaten it with the taunts and annoyances of ghettofied teenagers if it didn't go away. but now that the weekend has arrived, the illness has decided the weather is beautiful, i am no longer at the high school and this is the perfect time to return.
thank you so much illness. i had really missed you.
sigh.
Friday, April 08, 2005
ooh, a secret crush. that's exciting. wee one, you usually leave your name - and i've only known you for like 9 months. who wrote the secret crush comment? or is someone just trying to keep my spirits up by lying to me? if so, it's not needed. the breakup was fine. it did NOT contribute to my current fear of men. numerous other factors took care of that.
actually i'm not that down and depressed - just living day to day.
loving teaching (tuesday nights!!),
loving preaching (anyone, anyone, time, place . . .?)
and loving the pretty weather in austin. break out the tank tops and flip flops. i love the sun.
actually i'm not that down and depressed - just living day to day.
loving teaching (tuesday nights!!),
loving preaching (anyone, anyone, time, place . . .?)
and loving the pretty weather in austin. break out the tank tops and flip flops. i love the sun.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Spark weekend at my hometown church is over. I am back in Austin, and I am sick. Some sort of throat/fever thing. Great. I'm sure I have some great stories to tell, but they are clouded by the multi-vitamins, advil, claritan and regular drugs i feed my body to keep it functioning.
pray for me. i can't afford to miss any more work.
pray for me. i can't afford to miss any more work.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Black Tuesday KC called it. Except it was Wednesday. Things, they are a-changin'. I'm single again. Guess I'll go watch Bridget Jones' Diary for the umpteenth time and drink a bottle of wine.
Except that I leave tonight for St. Joseph, MO. Spark weekend at my hometown church. I'll get to be with my grandparents Friday and Monday during the day, so that'll be fun. Other than that I'll be at my parents house with a bunch of 17 year olds. It should be an interesting time. Lots of discussion to be had about God, the Bible, relationships and family.
Until next time . . .
Except that I leave tonight for St. Joseph, MO. Spark weekend at my hometown church. I'll get to be with my grandparents Friday and Monday during the day, so that'll be fun. Other than that I'll be at my parents house with a bunch of 17 year olds. It should be an interesting time. Lots of discussion to be had about God, the Bible, relationships and family.
Until next time . . .
Thursday, March 24, 2005
This is the sermon I preached at FBC Austin's Maundy Thursday Luncheon Service:
“Jesus Before The Powers: The Disciples”
They didn’t get it.
You know the kind. As the head counselor at the new high school, speaking at the senior assembly about education, promise and America’s future you watch blank faces file out of the auditorium asking who finished the algebra assignment and can they copy it. Or you make an honest attempt to create a moment with your child – you speak of the air in your lungs and the way the grass feels under your feet and with glove in hand you sprint outside as he walks off to play X-Box. Or you’re at dinner with this new guy you’ve been dating and while you talk about beauty, truth, compassion and justice, he interrupts to ask if you’re gonna finish your burger.
People who don’t get it: those who miss the point, misunderstand, and fall awkwardly short of the topic at hand.
Jesus knew the kind. He had twelve of them anxiously listening, dreaming and not getting it most of the time. Remember with me the book of Mark. One night during a storm, Mark says the disciples wake Jesus in a panic, screaming at him for his apathy at their impending death. Jesus in turn criticizes the disciples for their fear, and calms the wind.
In chapter 6, at one of Jesus’ massive preaching events, the disciples worry about feeding five thousand people at lunchtime, and so try to send them away. Jesus, however, feeds the thousands on just a couple of fish and some loaves of bread, but even after experiencing this miracle the disciples are at a loss as to what happened. Mark says they “did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.” Just a few days (and a few chapters) later at another gathering, as if they missed the first major feeding miracle, the disciples, come lunchtime, lament again, “How can one feed these people with bread here in the desert?” to which Jesus with wide eyes responds, “Do you still not perceive or understand? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes and fail to see? Do you have ears, and fail to hear? And do you not remember?”
Time and time again the disciples fail to comprehend. After contending with the Pharisees in chapter 7, Jesus and the disciples leave to get away by themselves for a while at which point Jesus discovers that the disciples don’t get it either. “Then do you also fail to understand?” he cries.
In chapter 9, the disciples fail to cast out a demon for lack of faith and then later try to stop someone else who is casting out demons and doing the work of Jesus. Talk about missing the point: egos versus miracles. No wonder they get into arguments over who is the greatest and who will get to sit next to Jesus in heaven.
Throughout Mark’s gospel the disciples are described as “perplexed.” Verse 9:32 says “they did not understand what [Jesus] was saying and were afraid to ask him.” Finally, when one of them does get something right (when Peter confesses that Jesus is the Messiah), he turns right around and misunderstands the Messiah’s calling. Jesus rebukes Peter, calling him Satan for having a mind centered on human thoughts and not divine ones.
Jesus Before The Disciples: their massive misunderstanding of Who Jesus was proved a significant power with which Jesus had to contend.
When I initially heard the topic of “Jesus before the powers,” I thought of Ciaphus, Pilate, the Sanhedrin, even Satan. I didn’t initially think of the disciples. The disciples were Jesus’ “best buds,” his “traveling companions,” his “students,” his “family.” But the disciples didn’t always understand Jesus...
In Mark chapter 14, we are painted a picture of an agonizing Jesus, a Christ who goes to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray, and sweats blood, cries blood, and foreshadows the blood he will shed in just a few hours. We get a glimpse of a man who pleads with God to undo what is about to happen, to make it all go away, to reverse the process already set in motion. We find a human Jesus who cries before his Father; we witness a man in psychological anguish. And we find his three best friends sleeping after three times Jesus begs them to keep watch.
Destined for death but willing to go there, Jesus and his three guilty sleepers descend from the Mount of Olives to the streets below where dawn will soon be breaking for the darkest days in Christian history. Judas arrives to greet them. The other disciples join them. A crowd of people gather around Jesus as usual. And then come the guards. With weapons in hand they come to arrest this gentle man who spent the night before not sharpening his sword, but sharpening his will in prayer. The moment of truth has arrived; Jesus had been warning the disciples of this hour for weeks now. Would they stand up to the truth of who they confessed Jesus to be? A kiss is placed, a warm embrace from the man who found it possible to put a price on friendship. Judas misunderstood Jesus’ calling and with a tender kiss, betrayed his master. The guards seize the marked man. Swords are drawn as the mob gets anxious and a guard loses an ear. The disciples’ hearts quicken. Is this the revolution they’d been waiting for? Is today the day Rome will fall? But Jesus surrenders to the guards willingly, and walks off with them towards the Temple.
The disciples panic. The guards try to seize those who had been with Jesus, but rather than stand up for their faith, the disciples flee the scene. One man hangs around too long and a guard gets a grip on the man’s linens. Ripping free, he leaves his clothes in the hands of his assailant and runs naked into the night. Some scholars say this is Mark’s testimony of his own reaction to Jesus being taken captive, that it is the author himself who bares the shame of his naked body and flees without his faith. But the imagery is the same with or without a name attached to the naked body escaping the garden, and we are taken back to the first garden, when the first man, also aware of his nakedness and his fear, fled into the night.
And Jesus alone walked to the Temple.
The disciples had given up their families, their jobs, their homes to follow Jesus (much more than most of us), but when the final hour came, they wouldn’t walk with him.
Probably because they didn’t get it.
All Jesus wanted was for them to stay awake. All he wanted was for them to keep watch over their faith. All he wanted was for them to love their God and bring his kingdom by loving their neighbors. But they drew their swords and then fled the scene.
And Jesus walked alone to his death.
The disciple’s misunderstanding of the mission of Jesus was the first power Jesus contended with and the first battle he lost. It was probably the most painful power he faced. Please stay awake, please keep watch, please love your neighbor, please love me. But the disciples turned their faces away, and Jesus walked alone to face the next set of powers.
I’ve been there, have you? Wanting people: a spouse, a child, a parent, a friend to love you enough to stand by you through think and thin . . . only to find they won’t. Patty Griffith wrote a song called 10 Million Miles, in which she sings,
I must’ve walked 10 million miles
I must’ve walked 10 million miles
I wore some shoes that weren’t my style,
10 million miles.
I’ve been kind of told some lies
Like anyone who’s lived or died,
Like anyone who’s really tried
To walk 10 million miles.
Disappointment, betrayal, longing, hoping and complete misunderstanding . . . forget the guard’s ear, the disciples’ lack of courage plunged the swords of misunderstanding deep into Jesus’ heart. And talk about shoes that weren’t his style, Jesus gave up the perfect communion of Trinity to descend to earth to become human. And when he tried to create community and understanding here, he discovered one of human community’s most disappointing characteristics: we hurt each other.
Not one stepped out of the shadows in Mark’s account. Not one took a stand.
And 2000 years later, I am Judas. I am Peter. I have slept, and I have fled.
But Jesus’ love and compassion for our lonely souls compelled him to walk the loneliest walk of his life . . . so that we don’t have to.
Thanks be to God. And now I find myself singing . . .
I memorize and I forget
I do some things that I regret
Wish for things I’ll never get
Walk in the rain and get wet
I must’ve walked 10 million miles
I must’ve walked 10 million miles
Wore some shoes that weren’t my style
Fell into the rank and file
So just say I was here awhile
A fool in search of [His] sweet smile
10 million miles
Ann Pittman
March 24, 2005
First Baptist Church Austin
Maundy Thursday Luncheon Service
“Jesus Before The Powers: The Disciples”
They didn’t get it.
You know the kind. As the head counselor at the new high school, speaking at the senior assembly about education, promise and America’s future you watch blank faces file out of the auditorium asking who finished the algebra assignment and can they copy it. Or you make an honest attempt to create a moment with your child – you speak of the air in your lungs and the way the grass feels under your feet and with glove in hand you sprint outside as he walks off to play X-Box. Or you’re at dinner with this new guy you’ve been dating and while you talk about beauty, truth, compassion and justice, he interrupts to ask if you’re gonna finish your burger.
People who don’t get it: those who miss the point, misunderstand, and fall awkwardly short of the topic at hand.
Jesus knew the kind. He had twelve of them anxiously listening, dreaming and not getting it most of the time. Remember with me the book of Mark. One night during a storm, Mark says the disciples wake Jesus in a panic, screaming at him for his apathy at their impending death. Jesus in turn criticizes the disciples for their fear, and calms the wind.
In chapter 6, at one of Jesus’ massive preaching events, the disciples worry about feeding five thousand people at lunchtime, and so try to send them away. Jesus, however, feeds the thousands on just a couple of fish and some loaves of bread, but even after experiencing this miracle the disciples are at a loss as to what happened. Mark says they “did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.” Just a few days (and a few chapters) later at another gathering, as if they missed the first major feeding miracle, the disciples, come lunchtime, lament again, “How can one feed these people with bread here in the desert?” to which Jesus with wide eyes responds, “Do you still not perceive or understand? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes and fail to see? Do you have ears, and fail to hear? And do you not remember?”
Time and time again the disciples fail to comprehend. After contending with the Pharisees in chapter 7, Jesus and the disciples leave to get away by themselves for a while at which point Jesus discovers that the disciples don’t get it either. “Then do you also fail to understand?” he cries.
In chapter 9, the disciples fail to cast out a demon for lack of faith and then later try to stop someone else who is casting out demons and doing the work of Jesus. Talk about missing the point: egos versus miracles. No wonder they get into arguments over who is the greatest and who will get to sit next to Jesus in heaven.
Throughout Mark’s gospel the disciples are described as “perplexed.” Verse 9:32 says “they did not understand what [Jesus] was saying and were afraid to ask him.” Finally, when one of them does get something right (when Peter confesses that Jesus is the Messiah), he turns right around and misunderstands the Messiah’s calling. Jesus rebukes Peter, calling him Satan for having a mind centered on human thoughts and not divine ones.
Jesus Before The Disciples: their massive misunderstanding of Who Jesus was proved a significant power with which Jesus had to contend.
When I initially heard the topic of “Jesus before the powers,” I thought of Ciaphus, Pilate, the Sanhedrin, even Satan. I didn’t initially think of the disciples. The disciples were Jesus’ “best buds,” his “traveling companions,” his “students,” his “family.” But the disciples didn’t always understand Jesus...
In Mark chapter 14, we are painted a picture of an agonizing Jesus, a Christ who goes to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray, and sweats blood, cries blood, and foreshadows the blood he will shed in just a few hours. We get a glimpse of a man who pleads with God to undo what is about to happen, to make it all go away, to reverse the process already set in motion. We find a human Jesus who cries before his Father; we witness a man in psychological anguish. And we find his three best friends sleeping after three times Jesus begs them to keep watch.
Destined for death but willing to go there, Jesus and his three guilty sleepers descend from the Mount of Olives to the streets below where dawn will soon be breaking for the darkest days in Christian history. Judas arrives to greet them. The other disciples join them. A crowd of people gather around Jesus as usual. And then come the guards. With weapons in hand they come to arrest this gentle man who spent the night before not sharpening his sword, but sharpening his will in prayer. The moment of truth has arrived; Jesus had been warning the disciples of this hour for weeks now. Would they stand up to the truth of who they confessed Jesus to be? A kiss is placed, a warm embrace from the man who found it possible to put a price on friendship. Judas misunderstood Jesus’ calling and with a tender kiss, betrayed his master. The guards seize the marked man. Swords are drawn as the mob gets anxious and a guard loses an ear. The disciples’ hearts quicken. Is this the revolution they’d been waiting for? Is today the day Rome will fall? But Jesus surrenders to the guards willingly, and walks off with them towards the Temple.
The disciples panic. The guards try to seize those who had been with Jesus, but rather than stand up for their faith, the disciples flee the scene. One man hangs around too long and a guard gets a grip on the man’s linens. Ripping free, he leaves his clothes in the hands of his assailant and runs naked into the night. Some scholars say this is Mark’s testimony of his own reaction to Jesus being taken captive, that it is the author himself who bares the shame of his naked body and flees without his faith. But the imagery is the same with or without a name attached to the naked body escaping the garden, and we are taken back to the first garden, when the first man, also aware of his nakedness and his fear, fled into the night.
And Jesus alone walked to the Temple.
The disciples had given up their families, their jobs, their homes to follow Jesus (much more than most of us), but when the final hour came, they wouldn’t walk with him.
Probably because they didn’t get it.
All Jesus wanted was for them to stay awake. All he wanted was for them to keep watch over their faith. All he wanted was for them to love their God and bring his kingdom by loving their neighbors. But they drew their swords and then fled the scene.
And Jesus walked alone to his death.
The disciple’s misunderstanding of the mission of Jesus was the first power Jesus contended with and the first battle he lost. It was probably the most painful power he faced. Please stay awake, please keep watch, please love your neighbor, please love me. But the disciples turned their faces away, and Jesus walked alone to face the next set of powers.
I’ve been there, have you? Wanting people: a spouse, a child, a parent, a friend to love you enough to stand by you through think and thin . . . only to find they won’t. Patty Griffith wrote a song called 10 Million Miles, in which she sings,
I must’ve walked 10 million miles
I must’ve walked 10 million miles
I wore some shoes that weren’t my style,
10 million miles.
I’ve been kind of told some lies
Like anyone who’s lived or died,
Like anyone who’s really tried
To walk 10 million miles.
Disappointment, betrayal, longing, hoping and complete misunderstanding . . . forget the guard’s ear, the disciples’ lack of courage plunged the swords of misunderstanding deep into Jesus’ heart. And talk about shoes that weren’t his style, Jesus gave up the perfect communion of Trinity to descend to earth to become human. And when he tried to create community and understanding here, he discovered one of human community’s most disappointing characteristics: we hurt each other.
Not one stepped out of the shadows in Mark’s account. Not one took a stand.
And 2000 years later, I am Judas. I am Peter. I have slept, and I have fled.
But Jesus’ love and compassion for our lonely souls compelled him to walk the loneliest walk of his life . . . so that we don’t have to.
Thanks be to God. And now I find myself singing . . .
I memorize and I forget
I do some things that I regret
Wish for things I’ll never get
Walk in the rain and get wet
I must’ve walked 10 million miles
I must’ve walked 10 million miles
Wore some shoes that weren’t my style
Fell into the rank and file
So just say I was here awhile
A fool in search of [His] sweet smile
10 million miles
Ann Pittman
March 24, 2005
First Baptist Church Austin
Maundy Thursday Luncheon Service
Monday, March 21, 2005
back to school
back to school
somethin' somethin'
golden rule.
not as much blogging to be done this week as i'm back at work. this is a very busy week what with teaching tuesday, preaching thursday, watching Jesus Christ Superstar (the musical) wednesday, and going to lenten services thursday-sunday.
but i did have a kid ask me today if i could feel my nosering when i snort coke.
great.
lent. life. gotta love it.
back to school
somethin' somethin'
golden rule.
not as much blogging to be done this week as i'm back at work. this is a very busy week what with teaching tuesday, preaching thursday, watching Jesus Christ Superstar (the musical) wednesday, and going to lenten services thursday-sunday.
but i did have a kid ask me today if i could feel my nosering when i snort coke.
great.
lent. life. gotta love it.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Emily called this morning: "Are you coming home for Easter?"
No Emily. How would I do that?
"You could drive."
Well I do have this thing called a job.
The conversation continued with her getting more and more irratated.
"You need to come home because Jesus died on a cross."
What's that got to do with the price of bread? That doesn't pay for a plane ticket. That doesn't give me my $95 a day salary if I take days off to drive (plus gas money).
"That's stupid Ann."
Jesus? or my job?
Needless to say, Emily lost the argument for me to go home for Easter, so it will be spent here among friends and acquaintances. I preach at FBC Austin's Lenten luncheon service Maundy Thursday and then Mosaic services begin that night. We have one each day: Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday and then Easter. Each service (following church tradition) will be darker and darker until Sunday morning when we reveal that Jesus rose from the dead (hope I didn't ruin the ending for anyone). The lights are turned on again (having been slowly removed or turned off during the previous 40 days of Lent), icons and art will be returned to their place on walls and tables, and we will rejoice. Should be an exciting, draining, refreshing weekend.
But it won't be at home with my family. And there will be no Wyatt Park's unified service where they'll probably sing a "He Lives" or something like that. So there are pluses and minuses.
But it will be Easter and it will be rejoicing, and like Christ, if I can't be with my family in person, they will be with me in spirit.
No Emily. How would I do that?
"You could drive."
Well I do have this thing called a job.
The conversation continued with her getting more and more irratated.
"You need to come home because Jesus died on a cross."
What's that got to do with the price of bread? That doesn't pay for a plane ticket. That doesn't give me my $95 a day salary if I take days off to drive (plus gas money).
"That's stupid Ann."
Jesus? or my job?
Needless to say, Emily lost the argument for me to go home for Easter, so it will be spent here among friends and acquaintances. I preach at FBC Austin's Lenten luncheon service Maundy Thursday and then Mosaic services begin that night. We have one each day: Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday and then Easter. Each service (following church tradition) will be darker and darker until Sunday morning when we reveal that Jesus rose from the dead (hope I didn't ruin the ending for anyone). The lights are turned on again (having been slowly removed or turned off during the previous 40 days of Lent), icons and art will be returned to their place on walls and tables, and we will rejoice. Should be an exciting, draining, refreshing weekend.
But it won't be at home with my family. And there will be no Wyatt Park's unified service where they'll probably sing a "He Lives" or something like that. So there are pluses and minuses.
But it will be Easter and it will be rejoicing, and like Christ, if I can't be with my family in person, they will be with me in spirit.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Zorba strikes again.
sigh*
Both the Radster and Zorby have worms so I had to take them to the vet today.
(take a deep breath)
So I've got Zorba in the little white room, waiting to get a pill and a half shoved down his throat. I've already apologetically explained that this cat is not very nice and hates people (except me, of course). So one nurse preps the pill, grabs Zorba and attempts to pop the pill. It's a no-go. Zorba immediately spits it back out. Shocker. Hissing ensues.
sigh*
(release breath)
Take two. (refill lungs with air, note sweating of palms). So the other nurse grabs Zorba by the scruff of the neck to hold him down while the other re-preps the pill and makes a second attempt to stuff it down Zorba's neck. The pill comes flying back out. "This one's strong," nurse number one says.
I begin apologizing while the exasperated first nurse shoots me a look and coldly explains that if she can't get the pill down, I will have to take it home and crush it in some food. "Okay, sure, no problem. I'm really sorry."
Take three. Nurse number two holds his head back again, explaining to me that this is the way to hold the cat appropriately. Nurse number one grabs Zorby's mouth and shoots the pill down. Score! However, blabbernurse number two, consumed with educating me and not paying attention to attack cat, has released her grip at which point Zorba strikes and scores again. Blood is drawn.
"Shit," nurse number two says.
"Oh Golly, are you okay?"
"Sure I'm fine. Let me just get this blood cleaned up." She blubbers on about how it doesn't hurt and better teeth than claws while nurse number one scolds her for not paying attention. They banter back and forth before resuming position to shove the second half pill down Zorba's throat. It is a quick process with everyone on edge and soon after Zorba splits to hide on the weight machine in the corner of the room. The two nurses ask me to go get the second cat and they leave the room.
I return with Radley and begin to notice how incredibly hot it is in this room. I am sweating profusely while trying to remain calm so Radley doesn't get upset. Zorba is still in the corner hissing to himself.
Nurse one returns with a cat box to put Zorba in and another nurse to replace nurse number two. "I thought I'd bring in someone more experienced for your second cat." She says.
I feel horrible and talk about how Radley is better behaved and really, there won't be any more problems. Of course, there aren't as Radley (after all, no one's ever nicknamed him "satan" or "devil cat"). Nurse one and nurse three pop Radley's two pills (he weighs a little more than Zorba) in seconds flat.
"You may put your two cats in the car and then return to pay," instructs nurse number one. I do so quietly and quickly, strained by the whole ordeal.
Then comes the bad news.
As I'm waiting at the counter, the b*tch nurse (aparently the head nurse) comes over and instructs the secretary to call my vet in Waco to have her fax Zorba's records ASAP to check that his rabees shots are updated. She then proceeds to tell me that because a human was involved in the biting episode, Zorba must be quaranteened, even if he is updated on his shots. If evidence shows that his shots are current, his quaranteen location may be my home. An officer of the Animal Clinic will come to check him out today and then again after 11 days. If however his records show him to be not current on his rabees vaccinations, then I will have to leave him to be observed at a shelter.
Oh Lord.
I nod my head and try to will my eyes not to pop out of my head.
Of course, Zorba's shots are current as they soon discover from the fax but I am still given the number to the TLAC and instructed to call. Once at home with both cats in the house, I call the dreaded TLAC and explain that my cat bit the nurse at the vet. I explain that he is up to date on his shots but that the vet told me to call them. "You need to bring your cats down to register them," the lady on the phone says. "Take them down there and register them as my cats and as updated on their shots?" I repeat to make sure I got it. "Yes," She says. "That's it?" I ask again clarifying the part about the records, tags, etc. "Yep," she says again, annoyed.
So I didn't.
Not today. I was already tired from the biting ordeal and if they aren't going to require me to quaranteen Zorba (since they didn't mention it on the phone), then I figure I can take my time getting down there. Zorba and Radley have been through enough for one day.
Can you imagine what would have happened if some man tried to tinker with Zorba's mouth and butt again today?
I don't even want to.
sigh*
Both the Radster and Zorby have worms so I had to take them to the vet today.
(take a deep breath)
So I've got Zorba in the little white room, waiting to get a pill and a half shoved down his throat. I've already apologetically explained that this cat is not very nice and hates people (except me, of course). So one nurse preps the pill, grabs Zorba and attempts to pop the pill. It's a no-go. Zorba immediately spits it back out. Shocker. Hissing ensues.
sigh*
(release breath)
Take two. (refill lungs with air, note sweating of palms). So the other nurse grabs Zorba by the scruff of the neck to hold him down while the other re-preps the pill and makes a second attempt to stuff it down Zorba's neck. The pill comes flying back out. "This one's strong," nurse number one says.
I begin apologizing while the exasperated first nurse shoots me a look and coldly explains that if she can't get the pill down, I will have to take it home and crush it in some food. "Okay, sure, no problem. I'm really sorry."
Take three. Nurse number two holds his head back again, explaining to me that this is the way to hold the cat appropriately. Nurse number one grabs Zorby's mouth and shoots the pill down. Score! However, blabbernurse number two, consumed with educating me and not paying attention to attack cat, has released her grip at which point Zorba strikes and scores again. Blood is drawn.
"Shit," nurse number two says.
"Oh Golly, are you okay?"
"Sure I'm fine. Let me just get this blood cleaned up." She blubbers on about how it doesn't hurt and better teeth than claws while nurse number one scolds her for not paying attention. They banter back and forth before resuming position to shove the second half pill down Zorba's throat. It is a quick process with everyone on edge and soon after Zorba splits to hide on the weight machine in the corner of the room. The two nurses ask me to go get the second cat and they leave the room.
I return with Radley and begin to notice how incredibly hot it is in this room. I am sweating profusely while trying to remain calm so Radley doesn't get upset. Zorba is still in the corner hissing to himself.
Nurse one returns with a cat box to put Zorba in and another nurse to replace nurse number two. "I thought I'd bring in someone more experienced for your second cat." She says.
I feel horrible and talk about how Radley is better behaved and really, there won't be any more problems. Of course, there aren't as Radley (after all, no one's ever nicknamed him "satan" or "devil cat"). Nurse one and nurse three pop Radley's two pills (he weighs a little more than Zorba) in seconds flat.
"You may put your two cats in the car and then return to pay," instructs nurse number one. I do so quietly and quickly, strained by the whole ordeal.
Then comes the bad news.
As I'm waiting at the counter, the b*tch nurse (aparently the head nurse) comes over and instructs the secretary to call my vet in Waco to have her fax Zorba's records ASAP to check that his rabees shots are updated. She then proceeds to tell me that because a human was involved in the biting episode, Zorba must be quaranteened, even if he is updated on his shots. If evidence shows that his shots are current, his quaranteen location may be my home. An officer of the Animal Clinic will come to check him out today and then again after 11 days. If however his records show him to be not current on his rabees vaccinations, then I will have to leave him to be observed at a shelter.
Oh Lord.
I nod my head and try to will my eyes not to pop out of my head.
Of course, Zorba's shots are current as they soon discover from the fax but I am still given the number to the TLAC and instructed to call. Once at home with both cats in the house, I call the dreaded TLAC and explain that my cat bit the nurse at the vet. I explain that he is up to date on his shots but that the vet told me to call them. "You need to bring your cats down to register them," the lady on the phone says. "Take them down there and register them as my cats and as updated on their shots?" I repeat to make sure I got it. "Yes," She says. "That's it?" I ask again clarifying the part about the records, tags, etc. "Yep," she says again, annoyed.
So I didn't.
Not today. I was already tired from the biting ordeal and if they aren't going to require me to quaranteen Zorba (since they didn't mention it on the phone), then I figure I can take my time getting down there. Zorba and Radley have been through enough for one day.
Can you imagine what would have happened if some man tried to tinker with Zorba's mouth and butt again today?
I don't even want to.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
in the words of Jim Carrey it has been B-E-A-Utiful this week.
but not today. today it is grey and probably (45% likelihood) will get drizzly or rainy later.
but i have to admit that for the first time in a while, the sun is still shining in my soul, remeniscent of the last few days of beauty.
on saturday, kc, ren (his 1/2 weiner 1/2 chihuahua dog) and i went to the dog park. it was fun. the park is leash free, so ren could walk behind us, in front of us, in the trees, wherever she wanted (that kc and i let her go). brave little ren also learned how to swim after kc threw her into the shallow river. it was a great day - sun, shade, exercise and wet dogs.
yesterday kc woke up with the squirts (welcome to the wide-world-of-ann kc, where everyone who knows my business now knows yours). so he stayed home sick from work which meant we got to hang out. so we went on a little walk with ren around the apartment complex, and drooled at the swank pool area the complex offers (which I will use as soon as it stays 80 long enough to warm up the water). in addition, jer came into town last night to work on erin's new computer, so we all got to go out to eat and not worry about being awake past bedtime.
spring break (even if one is supposed to be spending it with their sister in columbia) is awesome. i had a brief rush of panic last night as i lay in bed and thought about going to work tomorrow. then i remembered: spring break!!! no work tomorrow!!!
so i'm spring breakin' it: writing a sermon to preach at fbc austin during holy week, scrapbooking, checkin' email daily, sleeping in late, playing with the babies, etc. etc. etc.
the sun is in my soul this spring break.
but not today. today it is grey and probably (45% likelihood) will get drizzly or rainy later.
but i have to admit that for the first time in a while, the sun is still shining in my soul, remeniscent of the last few days of beauty.
on saturday, kc, ren (his 1/2 weiner 1/2 chihuahua dog) and i went to the dog park. it was fun. the park is leash free, so ren could walk behind us, in front of us, in the trees, wherever she wanted (that kc and i let her go). brave little ren also learned how to swim after kc threw her into the shallow river. it was a great day - sun, shade, exercise and wet dogs.
yesterday kc woke up with the squirts (welcome to the wide-world-of-ann kc, where everyone who knows my business now knows yours). so he stayed home sick from work which meant we got to hang out. so we went on a little walk with ren around the apartment complex, and drooled at the swank pool area the complex offers (which I will use as soon as it stays 80 long enough to warm up the water). in addition, jer came into town last night to work on erin's new computer, so we all got to go out to eat and not worry about being awake past bedtime.
spring break (even if one is supposed to be spending it with their sister in columbia) is awesome. i had a brief rush of panic last night as i lay in bed and thought about going to work tomorrow. then i remembered: spring break!!! no work tomorrow!!!
so i'm spring breakin' it: writing a sermon to preach at fbc austin during holy week, scrapbooking, checkin' email daily, sleeping in late, playing with the babies, etc. etc. etc.
the sun is in my soul this spring break.
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Saturday, March 12, 2005
I'm not thrilled with my current job; I can't tell a lie. Subbing at Johnston High School is bringing me down. Although my students provide interesting scenarios for sermons and blogs, they are driving me crazy.
It's the chaos I can't handle, the loud attitudes. Check out what's been said to me:
"Get up off my nuts, miss!"
"I'll throw your skinny ass in the trash can."
"Ooh, I like my women rough."
etc.
etc.
etc.
Not to mention the "f*ck this"es and the "b*tch"es and the "hoe"s. It's driving me nuts. They are generally so loud and so disresptful that one time last week I finally just sat at the teacher's desk, put my head in my hands and gave up. I can't control the chaos. I've even had a nightmare about school recently. Pure insanity.
It's not that my self-esteem or my sense of self worth is affected by the lame or rude comments they say to me, it's just that the negativity is enough to make me lose my mind. Twice last week I almost walked out of a classroom to quit my job.
I admit, there are sweet students too. There's one kid that I've only had twice in class, but he knows me by name and calls out to me in the hallway every time I see him. My supervisor told me on Friday that that's the only time she's seen that kid smile. That makes me feel good. Then there are students who nod at me in the hallway, like to have me as a sub, shake hands with me, even one who is going to bring yarn to school for me to knit him a scarf!!
But they are the minority. And the majority is killing me. Needless to say, this had thwarted my aspirations to be a High School English teacher, and motivated me to crack down on applying for PhD school.
Maybe college kids are the way to go.
Or maybe I need a whole new profession. Know any churches who need a pastor?
I'm unemployed as of May 15th again anyway.
Great. From one great chaos to another.
I love the real world.
It's the chaos I can't handle, the loud attitudes. Check out what's been said to me:
"Get up off my nuts, miss!"
"I'll throw your skinny ass in the trash can."
"Ooh, I like my women rough."
etc.
etc.
etc.
Not to mention the "f*ck this"es and the "b*tch"es and the "hoe"s. It's driving me nuts. They are generally so loud and so disresptful that one time last week I finally just sat at the teacher's desk, put my head in my hands and gave up. I can't control the chaos. I've even had a nightmare about school recently. Pure insanity.
It's not that my self-esteem or my sense of self worth is affected by the lame or rude comments they say to me, it's just that the negativity is enough to make me lose my mind. Twice last week I almost walked out of a classroom to quit my job.
I admit, there are sweet students too. There's one kid that I've only had twice in class, but he knows me by name and calls out to me in the hallway every time I see him. My supervisor told me on Friday that that's the only time she's seen that kid smile. That makes me feel good. Then there are students who nod at me in the hallway, like to have me as a sub, shake hands with me, even one who is going to bring yarn to school for me to knit him a scarf!!
But they are the minority. And the majority is killing me. Needless to say, this had thwarted my aspirations to be a High School English teacher, and motivated me to crack down on applying for PhD school.
Maybe college kids are the way to go.
Or maybe I need a whole new profession. Know any churches who need a pastor?
I'm unemployed as of May 15th again anyway.
Great. From one great chaos to another.
I love the real world.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Scandalous is dead. I can't believe it. He was in my possession a mere 4 days and the fish is dead.
At least I didn't kill this one. But Emily is going to kill me when she reads this.
So I went to Waco Friday to sing backup for Darrell Shepherd at a coffee shop there. I decided to stay the weekend since this past week was so horrible. Nothing like going "home" to get a second wind. So I stayed with the Eades, scrapbooked with Julie, saw Jeremy's new apartment. Cried a little, laughed a little; it was good.
I left the cats in Erin's care and asked KC to check on Scandalous. Sunday, KC found his bowl nearly knocked off the shelf he resides on (the second one down, right above my music books). So KC returned the vase to its place, put the picture frames that had been knocked off back on the shelf and breathed a sigh of relief.
I however, gasped when I came home to the huge vase topled on its side with no fish in sight. "Radley!" I cursed to myself. My carpet was soaking (still is) with some soggy pictures and journals laying in it. I salvaged the pictures and journals, and began soaking up water. I got out my hairdryer. I felt emotionally dead as the thought of buying another fish was overwhelming, so I just sat on the floor, staring into space, blowdrying the rug.
And so it is. Luke is dead. Scandalous is dead. Radley is full.
What next?
At least I didn't kill this one. But Emily is going to kill me when she reads this.
So I went to Waco Friday to sing backup for Darrell Shepherd at a coffee shop there. I decided to stay the weekend since this past week was so horrible. Nothing like going "home" to get a second wind. So I stayed with the Eades, scrapbooked with Julie, saw Jeremy's new apartment. Cried a little, laughed a little; it was good.
I left the cats in Erin's care and asked KC to check on Scandalous. Sunday, KC found his bowl nearly knocked off the shelf he resides on (the second one down, right above my music books). So KC returned the vase to its place, put the picture frames that had been knocked off back on the shelf and breathed a sigh of relief.
I however, gasped when I came home to the huge vase topled on its side with no fish in sight. "Radley!" I cursed to myself. My carpet was soaking (still is) with some soggy pictures and journals laying in it. I salvaged the pictures and journals, and began soaking up water. I got out my hairdryer. I felt emotionally dead as the thought of buying another fish was overwhelming, so I just sat on the floor, staring into space, blowdrying the rug.
And so it is. Luke is dead. Scandalous is dead. Radley is full.
What next?
Sunday, March 06, 2005
I killed Luke on Wednesday. It was an accident really. His cage was so dirty. I just had to clean it. All the oxygen had risen to the top to form yellow clumps of dirty bubbles. It was embarassing and negletful. Besides, I'd already cleaned the kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, litter box and bathtub. It had been a stressful evening, and I hadn't cleaned all the angst out of my system yet! So I took Luke's bowl to the sink. But after I changed his water, I realized I didn't know where the water purifying bottle was. Did I leave it at my former abode on Knight Circle? Had I placed it in some strategic location only to forget where? Shit-fire. And it was after 9pm, Petco was closed, and I had no choice but to wait until morning to buy some more.
So Thursday came and I went to school, worked all day - even went to the grocery store (located right beside the pet store), knowing that there was something important I needed to buy . . . milk! I had been unable to have cereal that morning because I was out of milk. And what was that other thing . . . oh yeah, Q-tips. I can't live without Q-Tips. And something else . . . what was it? Oh well, I'll get it next time. After all, the grocery store is just a two minute walk away.
That evening after dinner with KC, we went into my room so I could lie down (the week in general had been rather dreadful). But as I sat on my bed, I peered into Luke's clean cage and didn't see him. Panicing, I scoped the cage fearing that the cats had somehow scooped him out. It was then that I saw Luke at the bottom, belly up. The previous evening came back to me in a blur . . . bad news from home, a serious of tears, extreme cleaning episode to combat the fear, no purifying drops for his water, a thought to go to the pet store right after school the next day, the trip to the grocery store instead . . . shit! I killed my fish!
I threw myself on the bed, mustering a few more tears out of my already tired eyes. Just last May I had accidentally killed my two pet hermit crabs (I'd forgotten to water them), and now I'd gone and killed my poor beta! Damn!
Feeling horrible, I called Emily. After all, my dear cat Radley had eaten her goldfish just last year (no ill intent on his part, he just saw the fish in the unprotected bowl and saw a tasty, fresh afternoon snack - story for another time). She wasn't terribly sympathetic, I believe her exact phrase was, "well your ******* cat ate my ******* fish, so I'm glad!" That didn't go over well, so I called my former roommates: "Luke-Roger died." "Oh, we're sorry - do you want us to buy you another fish?"
Thankfully KC had disappeared during these conversations and reappeared with a nerds-necklace (a string of nerd candy all stuck together - gross!) and a beautiful but red beta. Seeing my pain, he had given Luke a ride "on the porcelein express" and run across the street to Petco. Smart move on KC's part, and oh the new fish was so pretty! I wanted to give him a girl's name, but KC wouldn't let me. He said the fish was a feisty one - that he had lurched at KC from within the jar when he picked him up to buy him. Add that to the mishap of his predecessor's death and we decided on Scandalous. Scandalous the fish. My beautiful but angry, red Scandalous.
As I reflect on the evening now, it seems so surreal (like most everything else in my life right now). When I wrote my last blog about Luke, I was worried about my sister and brother-in-law. Now the worry is realized and the truth exposed; my fish is dead and Scandalous has taken his place. Not something I planned or even understood until now.
My first fish was named after my favorite gospel, my second after a tragic death. I can only imagine what comes next. Sometimes I wish my life were a little less exciting. They say boring isn't half bad. There's nothing wrong with two cats and an apartment. Perhaps I don't need the frills of hermit crabs or betas. But they sure are pretty to look at. But dangerous too: easy to forget about and easy to kill. I guess one has to be more careful with the more fragile pieces of life. Hopefully this time I'm up for the responsibility.
So Thursday came and I went to school, worked all day - even went to the grocery store (located right beside the pet store), knowing that there was something important I needed to buy . . . milk! I had been unable to have cereal that morning because I was out of milk. And what was that other thing . . . oh yeah, Q-tips. I can't live without Q-Tips. And something else . . . what was it? Oh well, I'll get it next time. After all, the grocery store is just a two minute walk away.
That evening after dinner with KC, we went into my room so I could lie down (the week in general had been rather dreadful). But as I sat on my bed, I peered into Luke's clean cage and didn't see him. Panicing, I scoped the cage fearing that the cats had somehow scooped him out. It was then that I saw Luke at the bottom, belly up. The previous evening came back to me in a blur . . . bad news from home, a serious of tears, extreme cleaning episode to combat the fear, no purifying drops for his water, a thought to go to the pet store right after school the next day, the trip to the grocery store instead . . . shit! I killed my fish!
I threw myself on the bed, mustering a few more tears out of my already tired eyes. Just last May I had accidentally killed my two pet hermit crabs (I'd forgotten to water them), and now I'd gone and killed my poor beta! Damn!
Feeling horrible, I called Emily. After all, my dear cat Radley had eaten her goldfish just last year (no ill intent on his part, he just saw the fish in the unprotected bowl and saw a tasty, fresh afternoon snack - story for another time). She wasn't terribly sympathetic, I believe her exact phrase was, "well your ******* cat ate my ******* fish, so I'm glad!" That didn't go over well, so I called my former roommates: "Luke-Roger died." "Oh, we're sorry - do you want us to buy you another fish?"
Thankfully KC had disappeared during these conversations and reappeared with a nerds-necklace (a string of nerd candy all stuck together - gross!) and a beautiful but red beta. Seeing my pain, he had given Luke a ride "on the porcelein express" and run across the street to Petco. Smart move on KC's part, and oh the new fish was so pretty! I wanted to give him a girl's name, but KC wouldn't let me. He said the fish was a feisty one - that he had lurched at KC from within the jar when he picked him up to buy him. Add that to the mishap of his predecessor's death and we decided on Scandalous. Scandalous the fish. My beautiful but angry, red Scandalous.
As I reflect on the evening now, it seems so surreal (like most everything else in my life right now). When I wrote my last blog about Luke, I was worried about my sister and brother-in-law. Now the worry is realized and the truth exposed; my fish is dead and Scandalous has taken his place. Not something I planned or even understood until now.
My first fish was named after my favorite gospel, my second after a tragic death. I can only imagine what comes next. Sometimes I wish my life were a little less exciting. They say boring isn't half bad. There's nothing wrong with two cats and an apartment. Perhaps I don't need the frills of hermit crabs or betas. But they sure are pretty to look at. But dangerous too: easy to forget about and easy to kill. I guess one has to be more careful with the more fragile pieces of life. Hopefully this time I'm up for the responsibility.
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