The Clampdown

Melodrama is my middle name.

As I continue to ponder my existence, dread (more and more) the pending work deliverables, feel increasing angst over my so-called career, look forward to becoming a nun in retirement, and pray for immediate salvation in the form of a new career that suits me and my passion (albeit poorly defined) and pays the bills, I found my new friend Thomas Merton via My Life with the Saints.

From a young drinker/partier to hermit/monk. My soul mate.

I also found this prayer from his book Thoughts on Solitude that perfectly sums up my current anguish filled prayers.

MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

It's the best years of your life they want to steal
You grow up and you calm down
You're working for the clampdown

Prayers Selfish Prayers

I woke up super early this a.m. and, instead of going to the gym, decided at the very last minute to pack for vacation tomorrow. I felt convicted to go to Bible study tonight and start my vacation off right.

Instead, our flight to NYC was canceled for tomorrow and we're re-booked on a flight this afternoon. Hello urgent rush. Laptop backup. Financial proformas, income statements, balance sheets, graphs, working capital, cash flow analysis on hold  . . . carry laptop? Do in hotel?

So I have two prayers:
1) Thank you God for insisting that I pack this morning!
2) Please, please, please let us get out of JFK safely before the storm arrives

Oh, did I say two? Make that three:
3) Please let us travel safely throughout our adventure and have heaps o' fun!

EBITDA can wait. Pina colada cannot. I know my priorities.

Ave Maria

In my quest to make 2010 the "Year in Miracles," I attended Catholic church on New Year's Day with my mom to kick-off the new year in style. Who, outside of those in Vatican circles, knew that it would be dedicated to the the Blessed Virgin Mary? Certainly not I. (Probably my mother.)

The experience made me reflect on a conversation I had over dinner with my evangelical church going, kismet girlfriends during which one friend was visibly upset about her cousin praying to the saints (given that it's a form of idolatry).

I started mulling over how we can pray directly to Christ but we often ask our friends to pray for us, too. Isn't that what Catholics are doing when saying the Hail Mary? Asking for intercession on our behalf? Pray for us sinners now and at the time of our death.

Not exactly. The difference is: they're dead.

Can the dead hear our prayers? And pray for us?

Given that I haven't the first clue about what I'm even writing here on this topic, I found a book that looked like an interesting Protestant take on the matter: The Lure of Saints: A Protestant Experience of Catholic Tradition. I've only just begun reading but, so far, it seems to be a very evenly weighted, deeply faith-based approach to the important role saints play in Catholicism tempered with some of the more troubling aspects of devotion to them.

Akin to increasing my knowledge of the faith while sponsoring my girlfriend Misty to become a Catholic a few years back, this book is leading me to a greater appreciation of my upbringing in the church. (Writing it must have done the same for the author as he has a blog called Almost Catholic and apparently joined the church in 2009.)

So, in honor of saintly trinkets, would it be in bad taste to wear this belt sold by Rochester's own Lucky Nahum at Always Get Lucky? I thought it was kind of cute and not at all sinful . . .

What I heard on the radio this morning (thank you Jennifer V!):


What I'm humming now:

Pray Like Hell

Last night I went out to dinner at Good Luck with a old friend from NYC who was in town on business. Very, very nice to see him.

A few hot toddies later, I was at home, fast asleep, when I received a call from my coworker Jennifer. Apparently my boss had missed her connecting flight to the Roch and had taken a flight to Syracuse. If she arrived before midnight, there would be a rental car waiting. If not, she would be SOL.

As the quintessential enabler, with a direct view of the tremendous stress my boss is under, I offered to pick her up. Thankfully, my husband steadfastly refused because a) I would be driving during the wee hours of the morning when my body is more accustomed to sleeping, b) the snow/road conditions were not optimal and c) uh, I had been drinking! Hello.

This morning Jennifer was (kindly) blaming my boss' dependency on me. "If you didn't cater to her every whim, she wouldn't expect it." Alas, she's right. So in honor of my codependency and the "year in miracles," I penned the following and have vowed to pray it every morning at my desk.

* * * * *

Dear Lord,

Thank you for the innumerable blessings you have provided us.

Please guide us today and every day so that we may:

• Do your will
• Serve you, each other and our clients to the highest degree possible
• Honor you and each other in all that we do
• Respect/value one another’s opinions, skills and capabilities
• Live our lives with the utmost integrity
• Maintain a healthy work/life balance and boundaries
• Watch your miracles unfold before our very eyes
• Have heaps of fun!

We love you! Amen.
 

Deliver Us From Email

Our family's latest Sunday ritual involves whining the following line repeatedly: Do I have to go to church?

Last Sunday, I said to Son #1, "Maybe you could attempt this week to listen to the sermon because it's usually pretty interesting."

He responded, "I tried that last time. It was so boring that I began praying to God that he would knock me out. Hit me over the head. Anything so I could black out and then come to again when it was over."

It served as a nice reminder to me of why God doesn't answer all prayers.

Mini-weekend: Day 20

Gray skies. Dreary.

Perfect day to clean up a bit. Catch up on other people's blogs. And take Son #1 to his acupuncturist who I now love. He's not the same person I go to but he's really friendly and wonderful with kids. He has stuffed animals in the kids' treatment room and a great Chinese painting of a smiling dragon hanging on the wall -- which is perfect because both Son #1 and I were born in dragon years (i.e., 2000 and 1964). Most importantly, Son #1 enjoys the experience as much as I do.

After the needles are in and he's about to leave the room, the doc says, "Let me know if you start picking up alien signals or radio stations. Especially if it's a station you don't like." It's all very lighthearted and easy going. I just hope that, with time, the Tourette's diminishes. The thought of my gentle-souled little boy going through life with such an audible and visible affliction is enough to make me cry. His hoots, beeps, whistles, coughs, hacks, hand-swipes, blinking and facial grimaces are severe. Thankfully Son #1's pediatrician has given him a referral to the neuromedicine center at the URMC. We go next month.

Until then, we're giving him chamomile drops along with neck and stomach rubs. And offering heaps and heaps of prayers.

Woman on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown

Much of Saturday was spent in an ongoing cycle of "he said that I have the worst memory," "he called me stupid," "he stepped on my foot," "he's annoying me" and on and on and on. The only respite from the constant stream of fights and telling on each other was when I sat between the two kids during Monsters vs. Aliens 3D. Instead, I had to fight my anxiety over Son #1's constant flow of verbal beeping throughout the movie which I'm convinced is Tourette's given that he also has a million other ticks that go along with it. We'll leave that diagnosis to the professionals. I'm hoping I'm wrong.

Yesterday in church, the two kids were fighting over who got to snuggle with me and pushing each other off my lap. Son #1 cleared his throat approximately 700 times. When church ended and I was in the Fellowship Hall having (rather attempting to have) a latte with Meg, Son #1 tried to keep Son #2 away from me by putting his arms around me and, in the process, spilling piping hot coffee all over my hand. I started to say, "God D -" and stopped myself not nearly in time. It hurt like hell and my hand immediately turned bright red. An older gentleman in a suit came over with a napkin and I quickly recovered. About two minutes later, Son #2 came over, shook my hand to get my attention and said, "mama, mama, mama, mama, he just said . . . " and the remainder of the latte spilled all over my other hand, arm, pants, floor. I was fit to be tied. I threw the empty cup out and stormed out of church. We are NOT, I repeat, NOT going to Maggie Moos today.

I made them ride home in silence. When Son #1 spoke up and said, "well, none of this would have happened if you didn't have coffee with Mrs. J." I freaked and let a blood curdling scream out. "That's enough. Your rude behavior is not MY fault." I continued with a thick, loud stream of "I'm sick of your fighting, I'm sick of fighting with you every week to go to church, I'm sick of . . . " (Note: That should make them want to go to church now, right?)

My heart was pounding. My blood was boiling. The kids were crying. And I thought, "I'm taking my stress out on them." I've been having chest pains for two weeks and now I thought my heart was going to explode right out of my chest cavity.

Instead of going home, I drove to Tinker Park and said, "We're going to go for a walk in the woods and you're going to focus on the things you love about each other. We're not leaving until each of you comes up with 10 things that you genuinely love about your brother." We walked in silence until Son #2 piped up, "I love it when he lets me play with him." Good start. Followed by much continued silence.

They could each only come up with three things. Not one was compelling.

We walked past a half dozen deer along the trail who did not even glance in our direction. We stopped and listened to the bull frogs. And we walked the labyrinth which has meditation stones placed throughout with words such as "obedience," "reverence," and "honesty." When we got to the center stone, I made us hold hands in a circle and I prayed that we could open our hearts and be more loving. I reiterated (as I've been saying for weeks now) that the world is a difficult place where people can be cruel; our family should be a place of respite from all of that (not a place of stress). We need to bolster one another -- not tear each other down. I apologized for my primal scream and I told them a million things that I loved about both of them.

Can we go home now? Yes, and I'm checking myself into the psych ward STAT.

Beast of Burden

Matthew 11:25-30, "For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

Like an ox that doesn't realize there is a stream at the end of the trail, I cannot see where God is leading me so I'm stubbornly holding myself in a bad place. And I am having a hard time remembering that God is carrying the yoke with (or rather for) me. I have to keep repeating that phrase from Matthew today to remind myself that life is only truly unbearable if I do not believe that God can refresh me, replenish my soul and lead me beside still waters.

Now to find a green pasture in which to lie down.

What's Goin' On?

"I don't think of myself as a poor, deprived ghetto girl who made good. I think of myself as somebody who from an early age knew I was responsible for myself, and I had to make good."
(Quote from Oprah Winfrey)

What makes some people miserable with carte blanche to blame everything/everyone for their state while others take full ownership for their lives and their futures? What makes some clients jump on the "down economy" bandwagon to justify their company's declining revenues while others rally the troops?

To quote 4 Non Blondes:
And I pray, oh my God do I pray
I pray every single day
For a revolution

Catholic Guilt

I coerced Margaret and Martin to go to St. Patrick's with me last weekend since we were headed next door to Saks anyway. It was so crowded that you could barely inch your way to the front. We ended up saying a quick prayer while Martin sat behind us Googling places to eat for dinner on his iPhone. As we sat back in the pew, Margaret and I began talking (quietly I may add) about the Virgin Mary and the Catholic vs. Protestant viewpoint of her. The next thing you know, an old man in his priestly garb (perhaps a monsignor?) came and rapped me on the shoulder, shock his head at us in a reproaching manner and repeatedly put his finger to his lips to shush us.

Oooo, how shameful!

Key learning: It's okay to walk around as a tourist, chat about the architecture and stop to take pictures but do not, under any circumstances, whisper about religion! What do you think this is? A cathedral?

Next time, I'll have to remember to text God while I'm there. I'm sure he won't mind.

Thankfully, as I walked alone to meet Janette and Laura for lunch later that morning, I happened to pass St. Malachy's, the "actors church," where years ago my grandfather would meet me on weekends while I was visiting friends in Hell's Kitchen. There I had a few minutes of real peace and prayer. And I lit a five-day candle in memory of my grandfather whom I miss a lot. Still. Wild to think that it may still be burning right now!

Let the Greed, I Mean Adventure, Begin

Yesterday, during KidMo (the kid's service at church where I volunteer), the host, Johnny Rogers, taught the kids to "be specific" when praying. With that, I would like to begin my list.

Dear God -

Thank you first and foremost for all my blessings including, but not limited to, my: 1) awesome family including my fabulously gifted and beautiful children, 2) relationship with you!, 3) job that is interesting, challenging, varied and pays well, 4) fantastic health (physical, emotional, intellectual, etc.), 5) best-ever girlfriends including my mom and sis and 6) pretty nice stuff (e.g., house, cars, clothes) in a decent neighborhood in a good town, with excellent schools, in an great country . . .

So, at the risk of sounding greedy, per my KidMo instructions, please may I also:

• really come to appreciate all that I have
• learn to live my life with more excitement, passion, laughter and abandon
• teach my kids the important things in life and guide them well so they grow up healthy, happy and successful in their walk with you
  
• make strong decisions in life based on your guidance
• trust you implicitly
• have more quiet time with you to connect
• have more time with my kids -- specifically summers off and school breaks
• take more vacations
• maintain and augment my health
  
• have a cottage on a nearby lake
• have financial prosperity with fully paid retirement for me and the hubby and college for the kids
• thrive in a job where I continue to be highly valued, earn more money, have fun, contribute significantly to improving the world, and work fewer hours under considerably less pressure
• have a clean house, new kitchen, finished back patio (vs. bricks stacked up), a dry basement all year long, repaired front walk with bricks replaced, safe chimney, new windows, no rotting termite holes, fresh exterior paint, and a new couch without holes and stains
• be less exhausted and more able to function properly in life
  
• have a cute, hybrid, efficient car
• have more patience, peace and contentedness
• accept anything you want to provide in addition to, or in lieu of, all of this

Amen. And thanks in advance!

Yikes, I could have gone on forever. Feels funny but, hey, I can follow instructions. I just hope that God has a sense of humor. I'll keep you posted . . .

Amen to That

Two nights ago, as I was putting the boys to bed, son #2 curled up into his pillow so I couldn’t see his face and began whispering. I asked him if he was praying. He repeatedly insisted that he wasn’t but I could hear him pleading, “please, please, please.”

He then said, “Mama, if I tell you, then it won’t come true.”

“Monkey, you’re confusing wishes with prayer. It’s good to pray out loud with others – that way we can all pray with you.”

“Dear God, please let my mom stay home to play with us this summer.”

Uh, you might want to ask for an alternate income stream, preferably a financial windfall, with that request. Then, we're good to go