jamming

Wow--it's sure been a long time since I posted here. 

I think I wanted to save my blog from the fullness of my impatience during that time between when Matt began his exit of Camp K-V, Iraq and when he actually, finally landed in San Diego.

Then, I suppose, I've been distracted with getting used to living with my dear husband again.  Which is a delightful challenge.  It's good to be together again, and to settle into our house together.

One of the messes he came home to was our backyard.  It was a disaster.  I'd attempted to begin cutting back our uncontrollable (if abundantly fruitful) passionfruit vine and made a bigger mess of it.  The banana tree that bloomed in August fell over a few weeks ago from the gradual pull of the weight of its fruit, and was poorly propped up by a teetering pair of stacked chairs and a wooden prop.  And so on.

Last Friday, we made a go at cleaning it up.  And things are looking much better.  We're just eager for the trash truck to come down our street this week.

One little piece of our work was picking the last three hands of bananas on the other plant--the one that bloomed in June.  They were still green, but I've decided that I don't think they're gonna turn yellow on the plant.

So, with those bananas now turning yellow, tonight, I made my second batch of banana jam from one hand.  It's too early to say for sure, but it early results seem very promising.  And with peanut butter on a sandwich: yum.

Banana jam recipes were a bit tricky to find, so I thought I'd share mine.

Homegrown Banana Jam

7 cups of bananas, chopped

juice of 2 limes (about 1/2 c.)

2 cups of white grape juice

4 1/2 c. sugar

Combine it all, mashing the bananas up a bit.  Bring it to a boil, stirring regularly.  Let it boil for about 15 minutes, 'til it seems good and jammy.  Pour it into jars, and process for 10 minutes in hot water bath.

Makes 9 1/2 pint jars, with about a half-cup left over.  I'm a big fan of left-over jam samples.

(Why do you suppose half-pint sound so much more quaint that "cup" when speaking of jars of jam?)

a big night

Just moments after the television people officially "called" the election for Obama, my dear husband called from Iraq, as he was about to leave the base where he's been stationed to begin his long journey home.

It'll still be a couple of weeks before he's back here, but it was a sweet, sweet moment.

fruity

I'm pretty excited about the bananas forming in my backyard.  They're beautiful, and bear promise of tastiness.

I'm also having fun with buckets full of apricots from my family's tree.  I'm feeling better about my pie and jam-making skills, as I get more practice.  And, it's all quite tasty.

Plus, I've been delighting in other sweet things lately, including:

Matt's thoughtfulness, even from a distance, on our anniversary.

Others remembering and honoring our anniversary, too, with calls, flowers, gifts and their presence.

Good meals shared with friends, both new and old.  Even better, they've lately been made with things grown very nearby.  In the past week, my extroversion and love of company has been met with lots of visiting friends and invitations to be with others.  Sweet.

A request for prayer from someone who I know I disappointed and frustrated early in my pastoral ministry here; her asking for me to pray with her delivered to me a grace that I was hungry for.

And, I have a new computer, replacing the one stolen last week.  It's good to be back with a Mac.  

what a long strange trip

Since I posted last (sorry for the delay) it's been a bit of a wild ride. I was away at our annual gathering of clergy and lay leaders from UM churches in the area, sweltering in Redlands' heat. I love Annual Conference; despite the frustrations that come with it, I deeply treasure the time together with friends. This year, I definitely noticed the absence of two way-cool folks who had been my roommates in years past (Krista in Germany and Erika in pregnancy-land). But, of course, I'm quite grateful for the new and deeper connections I made with others. This time together is a wonderland for an extrovert like me.

And, I'm feeling good about my place in the church--deeply honored, even. The Reconciling Ministries folks gave me their annual award for my role at General Conference, advocating for a more full inclusion of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered folks. That's a deep and unexpected honor. And, I'm now the Chair of our Order of Elders. Plus, my name got lifted up with a few others as a potential person to be endorsed as a candidate for election of Bishop. A crazy idea, which I've decided to read as lovely affirmation of my leadership. It's nice to feel valued, especially by a group of people I respect and look up to so much.

Riding high on all that, I came home to a nice visit from my brother, who's passing through in his summer travels. We don't get nearly enough time together these days, as he's all the way in Pennsylvania.

Unfortunately, while we were having dinner at my in-laws home, someone broke into our house again, this time stealing a bunch of stuff, including laptops belonging to each of us: my brother, my roommate and me. This time, it feels less like a disturbing personal violation, but more frustrating. I'm tired of this.

I'm trying to decide if my lack of a sense of violation speaks well of my reaching a place where possessions are not the most important thing, or whether I'm just numb from having too much to deal with. Happily, I got a call from Iraq today; talking with Matt certainly adds more comfort and assurance.

Plus, the banana tree in the backyard flowered, which means it's fixin' to make real bananas. And tomatoes are forming all over, growing and tempting us with hints of yellowy color as they promise to turn red.

a circle of sorts

I started writing this blog the same time my husband, Matt, returned to the US after his first deployment to Iraq.  Now, I feel like I've come around the turning of a cycle as he returns to Iraq again.  Today, he called to say that he's there, at Al Asad air base.  It looks like he's going to be somewhere other than where he'd though, way out west near the border with Syria, doing his best to stay sane and live in a way that is good, even in the midst of a bad war.

It feels different this time around.  Although the oddest things still make me weepy (and I sobbed at the video story of two college softball players who carried their opponent around the bases after she broke her leg during a home run), I feel a little less raw, and a little more generally sad.  I still struggle with how to make sense of being a loving spouse in the midst of deployment to such an awful war.  I guess it gives me more reasons to work for peace, however it comes.

Maybe I'd better go work in the garden.

Really, I need to clean my closet.  I'm moving my clothes into our bedroom, to make room in our extra room for my sister-in-law, who's moving in sometime in the next week.  I'm looking forward to having someone else around here, even if I'm a little scared of how to fit another person into a little house with too much clutter I just can't bear to get rid of...  Wish us luck.

Oh, and if you know what to do with lots of fuzzy green algae in a salt water aquarium, let me know.

order, a triptych

as viewed from my cellphone this week:

one last call for everyone to get in order and in line before a few days of leave from fort bragg before a deployment to iraq.
the beautiful natural order of waves coming into shore
in the form of a whole series of plenary votes, establishing the rules for general conference, voted with these orderly devices.

wanna try to make a change: GI Bill

As you know, my dear husband is off from San Diego, preparing for a second deployment to Iraq with the Army Reserves.  He joined 5 1/2 years ago, with a sense of desire to serve his country, and because he believed it would enable him to finish his college degree.  

In my mind, neither hope worked out particularly well: though he has served loyally, our country has asked him to be a part of an ill-conceived and poorly-waged war that doesn't feel much like "defense" of what I treasure of our nation.  And, he certainly has not been able to make much progress toward completing his college degree.

It's not for lack of trying: he has enrolled every semester that he's been home, and has succeeded in completing just four semesters.  At his expected return from deployment this fall, his six years of obligation will be complete.  During his time in the Reserves, he has been eligible for tuition assistance and, since his first deployment to Iraq, some of the benefits of the GI Bill.

However, as it is currently written, he will receive no additional benefits from the GI Bill after he leaves the active Reserves this fall.  Unlike active duty members, who have several years after they leave their military service to use these educational benefits, his benefits would end with his reserve obligation.  Which seems a bit ironic, given that, though he's tried, he has not been home long enough to use much of these benefits.

Which brings me to the possibility of change.

Senators Jim Webb (D-VA), Chuck Hagel (R-NE) and Frank Lautenberg (D-NJ) have proposed a Senate bill that would improve and extend GI Bill benefits.  They're calling it the "21st Century GI Bill," and it rewrites the current policies to extend these educational benefits in a way that more closely resembles the GI Bill of WWII fame--as a policy that could genuinely provide opportunity giving educational and economic possibilities to the men and women who have served during this time of war.   Men and women who as disproportionately poor and ethnically diverse. 

The Bill's authors are seeking co-signers, to assure it doesn't get lost in process.  You can see if your Senator is on the list here.  Both California Senators are on the list.  Are yours?

The House equivalent, H.R. 2702, The Post-9/11 Veterans Educational Assistance Act of 2007, is also seeking co-sponsors.  In San Diego County, Rep. Filner has signed on, but Hunter, Davis, Issa and Bilbray have not.  You can check for co-sponsor updates, or in your area, here.

Wouldn't it be swell to send a quick note to your Congress-people, thanking them for signing on, or urging their co-sponsorship?  Something like this:

Dear   :

I'm writing to urge you to support/thank you for supporting (for Representatives) H.R. 2702, The Post-9/11 Veterans Educational Assistance Act of 2007 or (for Senators) S.22, the Post-9/11 Veterans Educational Assistance Bill.

[that was the tricky part.  now that you've figured out if you're thanking or urging, and if you're talking about a House Resolution or a Senate Bill, we should be good to go...]

A friend of mine finds himself in a similar position to too many other veterans of the war in Iraq: he has served dutifully, and now, as he finishes his service, is left with few benefits.  An Army Reservist, he joined at the same time he re-enrolled in college, believing he could serve his nation and further his education at the same time.  Now on his second deployment to Iraq, he has been unable to make much progress toward his Engineering degree. 

Extending educational benefits will not only serve him well, though; it will also serve our nation well to provide educational possibilities for so many who have been affected by this war.  The benefits to our nation will be great, if we provide opportunities for more people to attain college degrees.  As we contemplate the long-term effects of this war on the people who have served in our military and on our nation, I applaud efforts to provide long-term benefits as well.

Thank you for your time and your attention to this matter.

[And, if you want it to be easier, you can send it through this website.  I never thought I'd link to a site called military.com, but there you have it.]

stress

I have custody of Matt's aquarium during this deployment.  I didn't have to: he was all-out willing to get rid of the aquarium, so I wouldn't have to worry about it.  I objected, and insisted that I could figure it out.  I know he likes it, and I think it's pretty cool, too.  It's nice to come home to the glow of the aquarium light.  A little like Motel 6.

Then, the anemone moved, because I wasn't quick enough to add more water, and the bubbles formed by the inlet tube at the top were, like, traumatic for it.  

Now, I've pretty much killed the really pretty coral that swishes in the water currents that used to live near the top.  

I tried looking online, to see what might be going wrong--what I might be doing wrong.  Turns out there are lots of things that cause corals to turn white and get crusty: light, calcium deficiency, heat.  All grouped under a little heading the website called "stress."

So, my corals are stressed out.

Do you think sea creatures can emulate vibes in the house?

Others suggest I just blame it all on global warming.  I prefer to think I can blame it on Mr. Bush's stupid war.  Either way, I think this administration bears some responsibility.

4 little thoughts

This Sunday night, my mind catches these three (okay, four) things:

-How did I never notice that there's a $.93 store on my street?  Ninety-three cents!?!?  I gotta believe this odd amount means that, with tax, everything is exactly a dollar.  Which makes it feel like a dollar store in a way that most aren't.  But kudos to them for unabashedly marketing it for just what it is: a $.93 store.  I love my neighborhood.

-Church community can be really beautiful.  There was a really nice moment for me in worship today, in the midst of one of our periodic bluegrass banjo-driven Sundays.  While singing "Will the Circle Be Unbroken?" the background images were a loop of stills from various pieces of church life that I put together a couple of years ago.  I noticed three beloved people who have died since making the loop; instead of feeling awkward, it felt really lovely, like we were in an unbroken circle, indeed.

-Our anemone moved this week.  I didn't know anemones could move.   Noticing it not in its usual location gave me a bit of a scare: I'm a little insecure about my ability to be faithful in aquarium custody during this deployment.  I worried something had happened.  Thieves, again, perhaps?  Rationally, breaking in to our house to steal an anemone seemed absurd; I'm not always given, immediately, to rationality.  But apparently, especially when their living conditions become adverse (as happens when I get a bit lazy in adding new water to the aquarium and the pumps and filters begin to create more splashing bubbles near the surface), anemones can pick up and relocate.  Somehow, that seems really hopeful to me.  I love resilience.  I also like the little alcove the anemone has claimed as home (and, consequently, the clown fish, too).  It feels cozy.

-Thieves, however, have found my dear husband's laptop.  How sad is it when someone's stealing computers and ipods out of the tents of Army Reservist training for deployment to Iraq?  That's just wrong.  And pretty sad that the personal belongings of folks in the military are not safe while they're in the U.S., on base.  The Army should give them a way to keep their things secure...it's not like they're getting paid so much they can just write off these things.

limitations and abundance

I thought dyeing Easter eggs with natural dyes sounded pretty cool.  And, I had this chard languishing in my kitchen; I picked it in a hurry last Saturday, when the garden was being dug up.  I used part of it then, but didn't really have a plan for the rest.  I have observed how the red stems turn my chard-artichoke dip pink, so I thought I'd give it a try.

Just in case you were wondering, chard is not effective as a dye.  Neither the deep green leafy parts nor the garishly bright pink stems had any noticeable affect on my eggs.

Guess I should stick with the plants the recommend.  But hey: now my kitchen smells like stewed chard...

In other news and adventures, I'm feeling pretty blessed these days.  I mean, sure, I'm still dealing with the depression of Matt's deployment departure, but other folks have sure been good to me lately.

First, my obsessive lurking around crafty blogs led me to a fun give-away on Betty Ninja's site--and I won her drawing.  I'm waiting anxiously for the happy hedgehog to appear in my mailbox...  Then, I happened upon Oodles and Oodles' clothespin apron giveaway, and won again.  Now I can hang clothes in style on my new backyard clothesline.  Such a run of blogging grace!

Then, at work yesterday, two women in the office showered me with a magical sunflower basket of goodness--with cookies and a fun t-shirt and music and chocolate and lots more.  Just 'cause they were thinking of me and wanted to cheer me up.

All that's not even counting the carrot-dill bread Marian and Wayne brought by--or their avocado tree which is now planted in the yard.  Or the window and door trim my in-laws installed yesterday and today.  Or the books my brother sent me in the mail.  Or the care package from my mom.

So: today, deployment sucks, but it sure is beautiful to know that I'm surrounded by lots of caring folks and beautiful, thoughtful things!

I'm trying to ride out this wave of happy vibes and see if it will sustain me through an attempt to de-clutter my house.  It'd take a miracle...

strange things growing

I finally dug my carrots this past week.  It turns out that they were looking a bit mutant.  Perhaps this is what happens when you don't do a good job preparing the soil down deep before you plant?

I think they look like little, headless carrot creatures, with big, thick tails.

Strange.

But, then, it's been a strange week.  Some expected and some new--and several days of reporting for jury duty.  The prospect of being on the jury for a murder trial was sobering, but the long hours of waiting to get into the courtroom made for good reading time.  I escaped via the pages of "Friday Night Knitting Club," and enjoyed the diversion.

Now, my trick is going to need to be to stop thinking of new projects and focus on the ones I've already started. 

I spend made a quick trip to Sacramento this weekend to get a bit more time with Matt.  Unfortunately, my visit to him came with a sit through a "family briefing" courtesy the US Army.  I'm no fan of such things, nor can I stomach the way they refer to Matt as "my soldier."  I don't want a soldier, nor do I want to possess my husband.  The upside is that I got to meet some of the folks he'll be spending the next months with in Iraq; somehow, making it through seems more possible when there are real (even, sometimes, delightful) people involved.

Work is continuing here at the house--all the concrete (except for the driveway and front walk) is now taken out, and someone's coming on Friday to dig up the dirt and add in compost.  Perhaps so my carrots will be less mutant next season.  Here's hoping.  Then, soon, I can plant vegetables!

Oh, and my papaya seeds finally sprouted, which gives me great hope.  I'd thought they were too old and dried out.

on the homefront

As soon as got the unavoidable news of Matt's deployment, he stopped going to school (since he was going to have to leave before mid-term, anyhow) and launched into house projects that have been waiting.  And now things are really starting to look good.  I'm just sad that he's not here to enjoy them...

I'm quite excited about the kitchen, which now has totally-finished concrete counters by Matt, and a backsplash, too.  Once I get some light switch covers and trim pieces...well...it's gonna be crazy.  Matt's dad is milled the window trim as we speak.  (Aren't the cabinets he made of reclaimed wood beautiful?)

My happy at-home eco-creation this week, though, is a clothesline out back.  It occurred to me that, while a solar energy system on our roof would be very cool, using solar energy to dry clothes on line in the meantime would be a nice step.

I'm stoked about my simple design.  It sits in these brackets, so it can also come down if we want to use the space for something else.
And, finally, my happy report of the week: some plants that mysteriously appeared on the ledge on the side of the house.  I haven't figured out who put them there, and enjoying the mystery.

little things and big things

Matt's pick of how to spend our last whole day together before deployment was a hike.  It was beautiful.  There was a good amount of water in the river--enough to make some waterfalls--and little things were growing and budding and thriving.

in the valley, these buds were growing on beautiful orange and red branches in the wide part of the river.

Up higher, in the cracks of the rocks that run down to the river, mosses and things and something a lot like an onion were growing.

Here's our group, at our furthest-up point.  It's good to be together, in the beauty of these places.

This Live-Forever reminded me of the tenacious power of life to hold on.  If it's making it in just a little crack on the side of a vertical rock, we can all make it through this deployment (even if it's to a war that feels ill-conceived, at best...).

tomato cycles

Yesterday, I picked the last tomatoes off of last year's vines--scrawny, little, yellow tomatoes.

I also started seeds for this year's tomato crop.  I love tomatoes.

My little neighbor and garden club member, R, was walking home from school while I was out in the yard, so I got to share with her the first harvest of this year's strawberries.  (Strawberries are her favorite.)  She stayed to help me plant some new seeds--she got the job of writing on the little sticks.  She was amused that most of the tomato varieties we planted were named after other fruits.  (Tomatoes are after all, she noted, having studied such things in school this year, fruits themselves.)

So, we planted our pineapple tomatoes, grape tomatoes, strawberry tomatoes, brown berry tomatoes, garden peach tomatoes, and a few less fruity ones too.

Here's hoping they grow!

We've been working on our house like crazy lately, trying to get everything Matt wants to be involved with done before he leaves.  It also means that we get to help employ some neighbors who've been having a hard time, lately, getting work.  We talked to our painter today--he said it's been a month since he had a job.   He gave us a spectacular price on our paint job last year, and a great deal again, so he's not getting rich off of us, but it does feel good to be able to hire people who are wanting to work and having trouble finding it.  I also really like the neighbor who has been working on our roof--he used to live next door, and now his eldest son does.  He has a new daughter--7 days old--who came for a visit yesterday.  She's beautiful.

I'm starting to think it's gonna feel crazy lonely and quiet here when Matt goes...

making it

We finally got news of my dear husbands upcoming deployment, like for real.  And, his departure will come at the end of this month.  For the last few days, we've both been moving much slower than usual.  Funny how depression makes you feel so, well, like someone's pressing down on you all the time.  But we're making it.  This weekend, he's off in NorCal, meeting with the group of folks he'll deploy with.  Filling out paperwork and getting shots and all that.  

So, to rally my spirits, I finally got myself to work on some of the crafty project that have been swirling around in my mind for the last many weeks.   Making things has been good for my spirit.  I took pictures, but can't find the cord to download them--I have this hunch that it's in the computer bag Matt took up north.

So, you get to use your imagination.  I make two squares that hope to be part of a quilt of some kind--a free-styling log cabin block, made out of repurposed wool.  Perhaps, if I like the quilt pattern, it might also make itself into a baby quilt for a baby-to-be that I'm ecstatic about.  Also, I had my first mostly-success in remaking a big t-shirt to a fun, fitted style.  It still needs something, but I'm not quite sure what tonight.  Maybe inspiration will come tomorrow.

Really, all the quilt-making inspiration was spurred on by a beautiful gift I received this week.

On Thursday morning, I felt my usual mix of tiredness and uncertainty (amplified by the above-mentioned depression) about whether I really wanted to get myself down to the Rescue Mission for my weekly Bible study with the women there.  And, as usual, when I finally got myself there, it was beautiful and full of grace.  This week, in addition to Bible study grace, there was a kind woman I've enjoyed for a long while now, who gifted me a lap quilt she made.  "For you and your house," she said.  "It's earth tones.  I know you have an old house--I thought it might match."  And, she's right: it's perfect in our house.  It's such a gift to have my hesitance met with overflowing grace, embodied in a homemade gift.

sabbath and (formerly) sagging rooftops

Vacation is a splendid thing.  And, increasingly, I am grateful for time and space to be sabbath-like--no working, no creating, just being.  A long drive and a glorious week in a lovely cabin in snowy Colorado were wonderful for me.  I needed such rest.  The beauty of the Rocky Mountains isn't bad, either...

We came home last Wednesday, and took a look at the work our neighbor had wrought on our garage that day.

Formerly, our roof had been getting worse and worse with this little problem in which its pitch went the wrong way.  So, instead of allowing rain to roll off the roof, it collected rainwater in lovely pools, which then slowly (though increasingly rapidly) came through the roof into the garage.  I blame this on many things, including weak original construction, and the 8 layers of asphalt shingles placed on top of each other, without removing under layers.

Friday, Matt and I began to rebuild the roof structure.  Here's the beginnings, from Friday afternoon.  Since then, it's gotten even better.  It feels so strong now.
All of which is to say that we jumped back into working and creating.  

On the drive home, I began dreaming of crafty projects.  One of which I've actually made.  This vase told me it wanted a new, woolen cover, to help it show off springy blooms from our garden.  The angle is a bit skewed in the pic, but my choices were either a) skew the angle, or b) let you see the mess that is my living room.  Sorry.
Now, I'm dreaming of silk screening.  I have a clever plan.  We'll see if it makes its way into material reality or not.

In the meantime, I'm enjoying the intoxicatingly sweet smell of those daffodilly blooms, and giving thanks for how rest makes me feel energized for new adventures.

(I can't say that it makes me feel energized to tackle the nasty pile of accumulated paperwork on the desk in my office at the church, but the more creative bits of work have been fun...)

I'm also very thankful for the Army's lack of certainty these days, as it is delaying Matt's departure for Iraq.  This past weekend, they even uttered the words "or maybe not at all" in reference to his deployment timing.  While that's far from certain, it's also far better than his leaving next week.

So, as always, keep working for peace, and praying for an end to this war.

from our house to yours

We made a gingerbread house on Christmas.  Here it is, along with my prayers for warmth and delight for you.

Heck, for sweetness, too.

We've been busy.  Christmastime is hectic for a preacher, and more so for a crazy one whose family is trying to build a house out of stuff like wood and nails, not just candy. Or who's trying to savor any time she can get with her dear husband, who's fixing to deploy to this insane and immoral war in Iraq (again) at the end of January.  Or so.  The Army seldom really gets their act together about sharing useful details like this.  

In the meantime, we're ducking out of the blogosphere for a big of a vacation together, and some time with my family.

After I preach one more sermon.

complaints about the army #291 & #292

With news that my dear husband is really almost certainly deploying in January, I share two of my current complaints, neither of which really addresses my broader and deeper frustration with war:

# 291-Though the nice ads on television suggest that joining the Reserves while going to college is a fantastic idea, that has not been the reality I've seen.  In five years in the Reserves--six by his anticipated return from Iraq and exiting of the Reserves--my dear husband will have completed four semesters of college.  He has enrolled every semester possible since he joined.  That's two out of six years.  Which is remarkably less than his hopes or expectations, and less than the touching ad suggested.

#292-Though our government already rightly noticed that it seems unfair that Reservists who serve long deployments should not have access to the same GI Bill benefits as active duty military folks, and opened up this benefit to Reservists, they do so ONLY while Reservists are IN the Reserves.  Not after they've left.  And, as mentioned in complaint #291, it's difficult to actually complete semesters of schooling WHILE in the Reserves, making this benefit, well, not very beneficial.  

Not that I'm bitter.

Don't even get my started on how KBR (who we're playing lots of money to provide services that, in previous wars, were provided by military personnel) burns the plastic plates they serve our soldiers on, and lets the smoke from their burning plastic trash drift through the barracks they set up for soldiers to live in.  Wrong in SO many ways I lose track.

And, of course, all this does nothing to express the complex immoralities of a war of occupation, or the unthinking cost of human lives--mostly Iraqi--in this war. Among other things.

-

Plus, I just really don't want to have to live without my husband for another long piece of time.

in the cracks

This summer, when we were working on making our backyard more delightful, Matt hacked away at this giant plant that was growing in the little space between the back of our shed and the fence.  We wanted to be able to keep some tools and things there.

I noticed that it was a poinsettia.  I was a little bummed that it had been hacked away (though glad for more storage space.)

Last weekend, while looking for a shovel, I went behind the shed again.  The poinsettia has returned, this time in Christmas bloomin' splendor.

It's not easy to get around to see it, but there it is, flourishing away in a narrow canyon of metal and concrete.  It must be 10 feet tall.

Lots of little blooms are growing, too.
I take this as a good sign.

It's been a week of grand discouragement, frustration and outrage.  My dear husband was told he's on a list to re-deploy to Iraq, as an Army Reservist.  In January.  Next month.

His local commander is trying to get him off that list.  But only so he can go with that commander in September.

Now, I know that it's not unreasonable to imagine that anyone anywhere near the reach of the military would be called up to deploy.  It just really, really sucks when it's your beloved life partner.  And a war that you hate so much.

I had harbored hope that he could make it through 'til he's able to get out of the active Reserves next November, without another deployment.

So, we're waiting anxiously, to hear if he's really on the January list.  And then imagining how we're going to live in this little space between now and his departure.

I hope it looks even a smidgen as lovely as that poinsettia.

what the Bible tells us to love

It's been an exciting couple of days: an unexpected chance to see some of country radio's big names in concert, and a film about the Bible and homosexuality.

Sunday night, we went to see Brooks & Dunn AND Alan Jackson in concert. Every song was a top hit with lots of radio play--it was hours of sing-along fun. I love sentimental songs whose choruses include finding Jesus, drinking beer and wrecking cars. All in 2 lines. Really, it was fun--Boot Scootin' Boogie-ing, Chattahoochie-ing good times.

It helps that these 2 acts have the post-9/11 patriotic anthems I can most go along with. (And, we all know that a good country music concert has to feature 'em. Sometimes they make my stomach hurt bad.) Unfortunately, their staging and order reinforced what my good friend, Christian Left, was saying just the other day. In an encore that started with a gospel invitation to believe in something more than what we can see (and with a shout-out to red letter Christians), they followed this moving gospel number with (you guessed it) patriotism. And they used a song about USAmerica as a land of opportunity (a swell idea) as stage for a visual tribute to the Marines. As if the only thing better than believing in Jesus is America. And the real America is military America.

My Dear Husband, though he shared much of my complaints about the staging, said they had to do it so they could end on a rockin' number. Maybe Jesus could be last if his songs rocked more.

ANYHOW...

Tonight, my adventures in Jesus and America continued. Differently. I went to see "For the Bible Tells Me So," a documentary about the Bible and how it's used to form our beliefs about homosexuality in USAmerica. It is playing here in SD this week. I went with some courageous and beautiful people who are trying to build a community of support for LGBT folks at a conservative Christian college in town.

It's always hard to watch reminders of the spiritual and physical violence done to gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people in the name of the Bible. It's been far too much, and far too destructive.

What made me cry, though, is the bold witness of families and parents who are being "church" much more daringly then most of our churches are. And the folks in the film certainly aren't the only ones: so many others are putting themselves out into the world as witnesses to a Gospel call to love.

I'm just worried, tonight, about how horrible the whole things looks from the outside.

We've gotten so easily deceived into believing that homophobia is a holy obligation--that it's the Christian expectation. Which makes we wonder how we're going to get beyond this. For a culture that finds religion more and more optional, and that may never have the kind of rich and formative experiences of being raised in a nurturing church community, I wonder what reason for joining a church community one would see.

I want to be a part of church communities that proclaim by demonstration a love that comes to everyone and changes the world.

The choice isn't whether or not there are going to be gay and lesbian people in the world. (There are.) We need to choose whether the church is going to be open to all children of God. And, eventually, we need to choose if we're going to be relevant to a world that loves its gay and lesbian sons/daughters/mothers/parents/brothers/neighbors/co-workers/teachers.

Or just look afraid, ignorant and hypocritical.

At least, that's what I'm thinking tonight.