i know i should not be so scared i am Caucasian Christian cisgendered mostly straight (keeping it honest right?) married American woman. my children go to a private school and exclusive charter hig…
i know i should not be so scared
i am Caucasian Christian cisgendered mostly straight (keeping it honest right?) married American woman. my children go to a private school and exclusive charter high school-respectively. my husband makes a good living, i am able to stay at home and buy my daughter American girl dolls “just because” and i live in a very progressive city in the Pacific North West. i know i should not be so scared. I have no right, really. none at all.
i am utterly, completely, fully. totally, paralyzed with fear, it is keeping me up at night and distracted during the day. when i pray, i don’t feel heard, because, trust me, i was praying before Tuesday the 8th . and its clear that god wasn’t listening then, right? who in the hell do i think i am to be so afraid?
i have loved ones who are immigrant
i have loved ones who are LGBTQ+
i have loved ones who are female
i have loved ones who are of color
i have loved ones who worship Allah
i have loved ones who live with disabilities.
i am in fear for them, for my children, for me and for everyone.
i am admitting it, out laud, here, in front of god and every body.
that being said;
i will keep praying.
and i will march
i will vote
i will teach my daughter and my sons how to treat the different and the other.
i will give my money to the
ACLU, Planned Parenthood, The Southern Poverty Law Center and my local LGBTQ+ Center.
i will not let fear drive me away, i will use it to become strong.
i will show my children the right thing to do is not, to run or hide, but to stand tall and straight. to stand between the oppressor and the oppressed. not just wear my safety pin, but act.
thanks for listening
so today this happened:
i was shopping at my local Kroger and whilst waiting in line for my first pumpkin spice latte of the season, i watched a young woman stand by the deli, holding a yogurt with fruit, ya know the kind i mean? in those plastic cups?you can find them by the sandwiches. anyway, she was so skinny, she wore a black hoodie and leggings that were to big for her. and i knew that she was going to try to steal that yogurt.
and i said nothing.
I watched her for a long time,
and still i said nothing.
I did not care that she was going to steal from Kroger.
i thought to myself that i would offer to buy it for her, if she would let me, but by the time i got my PSL (so yum) i could not find her. i hoped she had gotten out of the store without being caught.
i did she her, however, when i was looking at the jeans, and i did offer to buy her food. Her response was gibberish, she was, tweeking, and i think mental ill. so i just smiled, said “okay” and walked away, praying for her.
Later, as i was paying for my groceries , i saw her leave the store, empty-handed.
i told God, ( ha! TOLD GOD) that i was going to give her some cash,
he/she said “nope, daughter, I GOT THIS”
then, i saw her walking across the street eating a yogurt/fruit parfait.
i was glad.
today, i chose grace.
We checked into the emergency dept at 4:00 in the afternoon, it was busy when we got there, but I was in triage right away. I have chronic diverticulitis, I know the pain, I know where and how it hurts. I have had it at least 6 time in the last 2 years maybe more. My pain was a 7. It hurt like a hot knife was stabling me. It hurt straight through my gut though the to the back. BP was 131/107 and my heart rate was 99. okay, I HURT LIKE A MOTHER FUCKER. They took a shit load of blood for CBC My nurse was great, respectful, kind, ya know, nurse-like. She told me that there were 3 people in front of me, it shouldn’t be that long. This was 4: 15 ish.
We went out to the waiting room. And waited. And waited. And waited. More people came. Then more and more. 6:00 pm came and went. Pain at a 7. Still more people came. Then, several ambulances brought in people and put them in wheelchairs in the waiting room. Medi-copter 3 times. Then 8:00 pm came and went. A nurse came out and took my vitals, BP still high. 9:00 pm comes and goes. My nurse comes out to check on me, pain still at a 7. The ED should be in code black, she told us, she was asking the suites to shut down the ED, but it is crazy at all the hospitals in the metro area. And no, we don’t know why. At this point, The Head and I are on the floor, as the many older folks in the room needed the chairs. Nurse says I can have a sprite, but only little sips. Hooray!
11:00 comes and goes. Midnight. Comes and goes. At 1:15 am-ish, I am called back and put on a bed, where I sit for another 20 minutes, no one speaks to me, IN THE HALLWAY, next to a poor man who had been in a fight, and whose face was flat. I mean FLAT. He was combative, and it was sorta scary. My heart ached for him, he was only 3 years older than me and oh lord, his hard life was, well, written all over his body.
Anyway, I see the intern, I did not see an attending, or a resident, The Dr. does not order any images. asked why I did not take a Tylenol. ( it was not a head ache.
Yes, he tells me, he agrees, I have Diverticulitis. NO SHIT DOC.
He offers me a pain pill and an antibiotic.
Please note, that in the last 6 times that I have had a flair, I was given IV fluids, IV anitbiotics and often, I was given pain med’s right away.
So there I sat on my hallway bed. waiting and waiting, still. Pain at a 7. I got my shot, at 1:50 and was discharged. after, begging for some imedente relife This is what i think: I should have been given a surgery consult, what is the magic number? 10? do I wait till my My colon perforate’s? I think, I wonder even, if I should have been seen by the attending. Uh, yes, yes I should have, As I was seen by an Intern who, if the hospital web site is correct, graduates on 2018. In the past, I have been admitted to hospital and then had IV antibiotics and pain management with a clear liquid or even no foods by mouth for at least 2 days. Today, however, I sit on my couch writing this, still in pain, about a 6. and binge watching Houdini and Doyle.
It’s an okay show.
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So, Yeah, I applied to Seminary. It’s nuts, Cray. I still did it. Sure, it will take a bunch of years to get though. yeah, I suck at math, still cant spell, I am doing it anyway. I have applied to a local Catholic University, I KNOW, RIGHT? The school is local, and known for its interfaith religious studied program. I am waiting for my transcripts to arrive. The community collage I went to was holding them because I owed a library fine of, are you ready? $1,789. BUT, i still had the book, for 22 years. I sent the book back with a check for $20. I should get them in a month or so. I should get my acceptance letter soon after the school gets my transcripts/
I will be starting in the fall. Wanna read my entrance essay?
Annie Lamott once wrote: “If you always dreamed of writing a novel or a memoir, and you used to love to write, and were pretty good at it, will it break your heart if it turns out you never got around to it? If you wake up one day at eighty, will you feel nonchalant that something always took precedence over a daily commitment to discovering your creative spirit? If not if this very thought fills you with regret then what are you waiting for?”
To be sure, she is talking about writing, but I think it could be attributed to any dream. It was June of 2003 when I first heard God’s call: “Go into the ministry,” Frankly, I laughed! I had two toddlers at home. We were living paycheck to paycheck, I lived over an hour away from the closest seminary, and how on earth would we pay for tuition? Add to that, I did not think I was ministry material. I am fluent in profanity and sarcasm. I have a habit of speaking my mind, out loud, at the wrong time, and often inappropriately. So how could I be a minister? The truth is, I was scared. I let that fear paralyze me for over a decade. Then something happened to change this.
A friend of mine recently died unexpectedly. He was only 45. His death made me ask
myself: “If I died today, how stupid would it be that I would die having not gone to seminary because of fear?” Is that the legacy I want to leave for my children? That their mother let fear, lead her life and not God? Even more so, who was I to say “no thanks” to the Creator of Heaven and Earth? What blessings have been lost to me, or to others because I let fear be the ruler of my life and not the Lord? It is time to take hold of 1 John 4:1719 17 Love has been perfected among us in this: that we may have boldness on the day of judgement, because as he is, so are we in this world. 18 There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. 19 We love because he first loved us.
Marylhurst is not far from where I live, it offers just what I am looking for, a beautiful campus where I can spread my wings and reach for what I know to be my true calling. I am woman of liberal faith, in a nutshell, that means that I think God loves everyone. Period. The other seminaries in the area are just too conservative, we would not serve each other well. Also, I need a University that sees my life experience as worth something, and getting credit for that, is a good thing.
Earning a M.A. in Applied Pastoral Theology would open doors for a career as a chaplain at a hospital or hospice. It gives me credibility in the church and the wider world. It would make it easier to help provide financially for my family, but mostly, earning my degree will kick in the ass the fear that has stopped me for so long. It will teach my children, that the time to live is when you are alive. That life is made to be lived in love, not fear. I choose love.