The Silly Episcopalian

I have everything I wanted. I am free, my wings are stretching. Yet I grieve. I longed for this for so long. I am obliged to no one -- only myself -- and yet I grieve. I have what I've craved. My legs can walk anywhere I want to go. still I grieve. My fetters are gone, but so is my shelter. My curfew is gone, but so is the care that I'm home safe. This I grieve. I am free and filled with possibility. Yet still -- still I grieve.

Sadly I have gone through a divorce.  I hold absolutely no acrimony toward my ex-husband, and I am glad that I met him.  It has been amicable the whole time, and yesterday morning I was told that I could pick up the signed papers any time. Ex was going to be in the area today, so we went to pick up the papers together and file them.  It took a little bit of a maze because I don't remember where in the world things are in the county buildings.  But we got to the right places. And then we went to the clerk and filed the papers, and with a signature, it was done. 11 years (almost) of marriage, dissolved with a signature.  My signature. I have treasured these 11 years in so many ways.  I have learned so much, experienced so much that I never would have if not for meeting J.  I know how to do so many things.  I can even hang drywall if I am careful and have the right folks with me who are strong enough to hold things in place.  I have hiked.  I have climbed 3 mountains in the Ad

Once upon a time, I was in music school, and I was the happiest girl in the world, laughing constantly and running around. People said to me "I wouldn't want to live in your dorm!" No one knew where I lived. In fact, I once startled the heck out of someone while coming out of my room because she (and others) thought that no one lived there. This past Monday night during a staff retreat, my superintendent commented about my endless supply of energy. I told him that once I hit the pillow I'm asleep. After dinner I went to the pool and hung out with a colleague who's pretty quiet and even went into the hot tub (not my thing but it was still fun with her!). After a while, though, I was done. I needed my shower and my Kreuzworträtsel (crossword puzzles -- I just like the German term) and quiet and my sleep. I think it was early, but it had been a REALLY intense day. My "endless energy" lasts about 8-10 hours and then i get... done.

I was under a flat sheet and the air conditioner was blaring.  The TV had some kind of crime documentary -- the ones from late 80's to early 90's -- on in the background.  There were no other lights.  As I dozed in and out of basically a giant nap, I heard the TV but didn't really comprehend it.  I didn't remember the last time I'd taken a shower, and I didn't care.  Thinking to use the right soap product on the right part of me was a hurdle that was far too high to jump.  Had breathing been voluntary, I probably wouldn't have been able to continue it.  I thought about being a newborn and craved it: all I would need was taken care of for me.  All I had to think about was sleeping and eating.  I didn't have to manage anything -- I could just be.   I kept trying to reenact it -- all I had to do was rest.  I wish I had remembered it.  It sounded like such luxury, such peace.  I hated waking up.  I just wanted to sleep.  I didn't want to wake up.  Lord,

Today marks the beginning of the Triduum: the three most holy days of the church year.  And I LOVE these three days every year. Maundy Thursday kicks it off with a Eucharist followed by the stripping of the altar and reading the 22nd Psalm: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?      Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning? 2  O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;      and by night, but find no rest. 3  Yet you are holy,      enthroned on the praises of Israel. 4  In you our ancestors trusted;      they trusted, and you delivered them. 5  To you they cried, and were saved;      in you they trusted, and were not put to shame. 6  But I am a worm, and not human;      scorned by others, and despised by the people. 7  All who see me mock at me;      they make mouths at me, they shake their heads; 8  “Commit your cause to the  Lord ; let him deliver—      let him rescue the one in whom he delights!” 9  Yet it was you who to

I'm reading The Grapes of Wrath  right now.  I'm still early on, but I love it so far.  I decided that I need to do a lot more reading, and I definitely want to make it "significant" reading.  I was supposed to read this in an English class in high school, but I either BS-ed my way through it or just didn't remember it. Anyway: I'm at the point where Tom and Casy (the former preacher) arrive at the Joad family's home just as they are packing to go to California.  The family is sitting down to dinner and Granma finds out that a preacher has traveled there with Tom, and she demands a grace before dinner.  Casy explains that he's not a preacher anymore, but Granma still insists.  And so this happens: ... And on the preacher's face there was a look not of prayer, but of thought; and in his tone not supplication, but conjecture. "I been thinkin," he said.  "I been in the hills, thinkin', almost you might say like Jesus went into

Hosanna! I love that word.  It's not something that we transfer to colloquial/secular speech as we do with "alleluia."  But it's still a joyful shout.  Plus it's appropriate for us to say it during Lent. Hosanna! Palm Sunday is the day where we get to sing it and shout it and enjoy it! The order of service is different: start with a Gospel reading, then procession, then open the rest of the mass up, and read the Passion during what would be the "normal" Gospel time. I always thought of the Passion as this HUGE reading that we all had to slog through, and most people stop concentrating about halfway through it.  We've all heard it before, said the "crucify him" responses, etc.  Got through the marathon of it and boom, mass continued.  Today the Passion was split into 2 readings.  I liked it that way because it was in more manageable chunks; helps me digest it better AND ponder it more deeply. I'd never been to St. Stephen'

Ash Wednesday marks my very favorite time of the year: Lent.  Most people think I'm kind of weird for this, but it really truly is my favorite time.  A time of contemplation, a time for renewal and preparation.  This is it! Most people know me as bubbly, outgoing, and a chatterbox (understatement of the year).  When I meet someone friendly I'm so excited to meet someone that I usually can't shut up until they're sick of me.  I love meeting new people, making music with people, and having a good laugh. So most people are pretty surprised that my favorite time of day in elementary school was when we did silent reading after lunch.  I LOVED it.  I was surrounded by quiet people, and we were all just... there.  I didn't have to worry about stopping while I was ahead in the talking game. It was the same reason that I did my homework in the library in college.  People were there, and I didn't have to worry about conversation and how much I really couldn't ma

A couple of weeks ago, I had the opportunity to go to the celebration of ministry for a friend of mine.  A celebration of ministry is basically the official liturgical welcome of a new rector to the parish.  My friend has been rector there quite a while, but as life often gets in the way, it took a while to get to the actual celebration.  But no matter -- she deserves celebration every day, as she is an absolutely superior priest. The first time I met her I was on a team for Cursillo, and she was one of the priests on board.  I thought of her as a rather nice lady and enjoyed her personality and her reverence for saying mass.  During a Cursillo team meeting, it almost always either ends or has a Eucharist at some point.  As musician of the team, I stood next to her at one of them, and we always hold hands to say the Lord's prayer.  So there I was holding her hand, and I felt this enormous umbrella (of sorts) come over me, and suddenly I was there, cradled in the arms of God.  It

meditation on Matthew 7:7-12 7  “Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.  8  For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.  9  Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone?  10  Or if the child asks for a fish, will give a snake?  11  If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him. 12  “In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and the prophets. Standing at the door, my hand suddenly turns to cement, my arm fused to my side. knock and the door shall be opened but what is behind the door? I want to know -- I was compelled to come here. seek and ye shall find but what am I looking for? it's something. but what? I wish it were so simpl