Saturday at last

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Saturday at last, because it's been a full week. Some good things on the horizon - a lovely afternoon, the hard sermon is done. Hard for me personally, because I'm being vulnerable, but I don't want my message to be about me, but about how scripture works to convict and free all of us.

But still beautiful fall weather, so this p.m. I'll make a pear pie and trim the garden. Grill out. Tomorrow we've made a date to see the Harry Potter movie in the theater.

I have a strong desire to play with colors, so I'll organize all the drawing and painting things together today, and take some time to play. It's my newest form of personal expression and spirituality, I've decided.

The son has been in contact, after 2 1/2 weeks without answering my phone calls. I guess I'm forgiven. He's had bad eye inflammation and needed some home remedies. We will need to see how well Badger Care Plus works - I'm just grateful for that 'public option.'
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blogging or not

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I haven't kept up with the gratitude posts - mostly because I couldn't think of things when the page was blank.

The news from the Church-wide assembly bothered me a lot. I will be one of those conscience-bound pastors - not necessarily for the same reasons as others - and yes, it is affecting the local ministry in churches like mine.

I am still dealing with ego issues with staff at work. Crazy making conversations, being caught in the hall before worship for decisions, and then being told I was not helpful - in other words things are just about as difficult as they were at the beginning of the summer.

I have spent time in reflection about my ministry, and don't have clear resolution yet. The third-party colleague group I hoped to sign up for hasn't materialized. I'm still not gettting out of my shell and away from my desk enough.

And the fall/winter/spring schedule starts. The only clarity is that I have decided to take a class with NAMI on Thursday evenings and have cleared my calendar from anything but wedding rehearsals.

At least I can do that for myself.
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back from heaven

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or Southwest Wisconsin, take your pick. Pretty close to the heaven I'm looking for.

Scandinavian designed tiny cottage on a hillside overlooking the rolling hills and valleys of the driftless region. Couldn't see lights or hear cars at night. I don't remember that last time that was true. Sat on the porch and read, or just stared. Cooked simple good food. Had fresh strawberries and local sweet corn at the same meal.

A few notes -

• Aquila and I were both wounded - him from surgery, me from a fall down our outside stairs. It was okay to take care of ourselves.
• Being out of cell phone range with lousy internet connections is a really good thing.
• The DS was on his road trip and we were able to release him to his fate.
• While going to the famous sights was okay, I could have skipped them - I was in such a mellow mood.
• There are a lot of not-very-good novels out there. I had the bad luck to start two of them.
  
• Serious conversations can be scary, but ours turned out all right.
• I still have insomnia.

I did write about the question: what am I doing, what do I need to do? And I did get a little farther. But not that far. About two days of that heavy thinking is all I get in on any week, it seems.

Back to work today - will have funeral Wednesday, and I may need to run to hosp. within the hour. The usual. DS thought (misheard) that we were going to be backd on Monday, not Sunday, so he was all over the place. But he did help clean up. He only broke one door in a rage. Sigh. That is not okay.
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long week

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It's been a long week - week and a half. And I don't have anything profound to blog about. Just stuff.

Went through assembly without knitting (I had nothing at the right stage to transport). Did a lot of crosswords. Found presenters irritating, not inspiring. "Please turn to your neighbor and discuss what's wrong in your situation.' does not make for happy day. Rushed around for bad food, etc.

Pulled off Trinity week, and did the usual 20 hours in two days. Took the second half of Wednesday off to purchase stuff for the week of the convelescent.

Aquila's surgery went okay - hernia surgery and he had more to fix than they expected. Recovery is going slow. I don't think he'll be back with only a week off of work - or that he should go back that soon. However, he will feel guilty and like he should push himself. I think his co-workers might think about all the times he's covered for them. And no way should he be on call next Monday. He may not even be off the strong drugs and driving by then.

Lots of little things to think about - the day after surgery I had to get back to the office, and then had wedding day and then Sunday. And when does laundry get done, what can he cook for himself, can he even feed the cat?

As we were sitting in recovery I noticed I had a sore throat, which has blossomed into a full-blown cold. Today I'm walking around feeling the sleep waves creeping up on me - all I desire is to nap.

I know this isn't that interesting - my mind is mush.
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too good not to blog

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for all you coming to read the serious post about the doctrine of the Trinity.

Sorry.

Making dinner tonight, sauce with Italian sausage and good pasta. Put on good music. Ready to eat. DS arrives. "Hey, mom, I have an embarrassing question. What's going on with my penis?"

The information about Borderline Personality Disorder stresses that one shouldn't discount or disrespect the BP individual by laughing at them. right.

I said, I certainly don't know. He apparently zipped up the aforementioned body part, and now is concerned because there are owies where there were no owies before.

I said, wait until after dinner. (and several glasses of wine). I said, that's something you're going to have to go over with your father. Father looked at me and said - what? I said - it's probably jock itch. Father says - I've never had jock itch. I said, well, if it's round discrete sores, it may be an STD. If it's irregular and a rash, may be jock itch.

After dinner, and several glasses of wine, the decision is that DS should go to the doctor. He says - do I have to go alone? I say: "I'm not going to the clinic and say - my little boy has an owie on his pee-pee." I look up the free clinic, etc. I said - wait, let me get this written down for you. "No, I have to meet someone."

So he doesn't have the info.

I'm drinking more wine.

Oh, I love parenting.
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a preaching journey

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This weekend is Holy Trinity. I don't like preaching on the Trinity. It's a doctrine - it's not a story. It's a doctrine that I don't understand very well, and I'm conscious that I'm getting one or another side of it wrong if I try to explain it.

And I'm not sure how interested anyone else is in that doctrine, even properly explained.

If folks in the pews had a dime for each time they've heard a preacher say: I can't explain it, but I'll try - they all could go out for brunch.

So, this week I'm approaching Trinity from a side angle. From the Romans text - "From Slaves to Heirs"

This is what I have so far:

Slaves or heirs? – Not a choice, as we usually think about it – children do not choose to be (they can choose not to be) – you find yourself in the position of heir, of son or daughter, of part of the family. You receive and identify, or you rebel and leave. Parents - can un-accept, disinherit - but that is the exception. Parents (most parents) find that love is present for the child as gift, the child as child.

The Pauline response to this is that we are 'adopted' as children, made heirs, because of God's love for us and Christ's work for us. God's love for us becomes love of a parent for a child, not merely the regard of a master for a slave.

(Interesting, most reflections on this passage are speaking of the choices of discipleship, even the Lutheran ones (!) - see the ELCA Daily Discipleship, or the stuff from Sermons.com)

My understanding, and I think it could be justified from Romans, says we are passively ushered into the state of salvation, and grow and live into it. Likewise with the language of being ‘born again’ – other traditions see that as a choice WE make. Lutherans understand it as a blessing God gives and that we receive as gift. All God, all gift, all grace.(And that's the Trinitiran connection - God the Parent is loving, God the Son is our brother, God the Wind is blows us to the direction of joy).

Here is the opening to say we can ‘leave’, we can ‘turn our faces away’ and let the powers of not-God catch our attention. What we control is our attention, our attitude, our receptivity. (?) God is constant in His love for us – we are not constant in our response to Him.

What makes this hard for me personally is that DS is choosing the away path. He is taking the way of the flesh, the hard road of choosing for himself to not cooperate with the 'systems' around him - not economic systems (doesn't want a job) nor moral (cheats, lies, smokes pot, steals) nor emotional (what his dad and I can offer) nor spiritual - 'nuff said. We adopted him, but he is in the process of un-parenting us.

And so the consequences catch up with him. The least of these is poverty. The worst - I don't want to speculate.

As a speaker I go for the promise, not to the condemnation. I see and I know the dark side of this argument.

What do I say on Sunday?
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reflection on sundays in may

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Last Sunday was Mother's day and this Sunday was confirmation. This year I'm stuck in pensive reflection because of what we don't have. My son did make brunch and show up for dinner and he said happy Mother's day. But . . . it's not about his looks, but he looks like a street person. But . . . it's not about accomplishments, but he has no job and isn't looking for one. It's not about money, but we've been putting about 1/4 of his dad's income into his support. He's not in school. He's waiting for a court date.

Confirmation hurts because he was never confirmed. He was already in trouble with the law by 14. Sometimes fellow clergy have said: "I want to talk to your son - I'd like to get to know him." And I think they think they can 'reach him' - because, you know, they are so good with troubled young men. The only contact MP had with him was picking me up at the house a couple of years ago, at the end of one of his rages and hearing his profanity-laced diatribe at me. He hasn't suggested speaking to my son since.

Tonight I laid out two courses. One course is to connect with someone I know who is a former job coach. She has been supportive and not judgmental toward us. If he would do this and work the program, we would continue support. The other course is that I identify a time for him to vacate his apartment, move him into his car, and clean up the apartment so I'm not liable for damages.

He said: Okay, I'm leaving now.

Considering his history, I should be happy he didn't come at me in a rage. If he is borderline I should expect some kind of crisis now - we'll see. If he's sociopathic, he's work this offer to his own advantage. Do I think he's take it at face value and see it as the helping hand it's supposed to be?

Unfortunately, that's not been our experience.

These Sundays do not speak to heart.
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sick and annoyed

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Home sick. Home because when I was asked to run Aquila's pager to him - I got lost on the way to his office. I know where his office is. I just spaced out more than once on the way there, missed turns and doubled the time I needed to get there. It was so weird. Now I suspect what Alzheimer's feels like.

Add to that weirdness and disorientation a general sense of wooziness and an empty calendar, and I just came back home. It's a sick day, whether I'm feverish or not. Our administrative assistant just came off of 4 or 5 days out sick with a virus, so let's not take chances.

Annoyed with DS, snaps at me when I ask about his legal issues. This is not the assurance of someone who tells me he'll do it himself, but the attitude of someone who prefers not to be reminded that he has problems.

We believe DS has borderline personality disorder, which means, for him, that his emotions run rampant and he feels out of control most of the time. This translates into very, very bad behavior towards others and himself. This translates into crazy living choices and selfish and manipulative actions. This also means he accepts abuse, too, when he feels he needs a person. But he can't understand the difference between abusive behavior towards himself and love.

Most of the recommendations for parents of adult people with BPD is to stop helping them. But a year ago I agreed to help with the rent (to get him out of the house for my sanity), and so I'm still liable for that and for the condition of his apartment - which I gather is a squalid mess now.

And I helped out last week, when I had two minutes to decide what to do. So now I am annoyed when he snaps at me - I want my money back!

It is hard to learn how to parent in this totally different mode. When all one learned about being a parent is wrong for this kid. When what one has to do is exactly opposite of what people with 'good' kids do.

There is a huge chasm between us and other parents. The on-line parents group is called 'OZ', because everything is upside down.

So, we take our lives day by day, and try to have our joys where we can.\
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i can't - i can

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Coming home from break puts me in a new place, looking at some things from new(er) perspectives. And coming to some hard decisions.

To put these resolutions in the form of i can't -i can seems appropriate - because they start with stopping.

i (we) can't continue to financially support DS. I can tell him that we care, care so much we will let him fail.

i can't continue to be emotionally entangled and feel responsible for DS. I will stop looking for job opportunities, stop trying to be his coach. He doesn't want a coach.

i can't continue to be both mirror of lead pastor and team pastor and everything pastor - I can work with MP to sort out who does what and how I can step away from some stuff (and how he can step away from others).

i can't continue working 56 hours/week and 5 evenings out of 7. I will remember to double schedule some nights so to be home others. And to relax on those evenings and not feel guilty.

i can't find time to exercise - it's just not a go. No guilt. I can find time to walk around a lot, stay active at work, wear comfortable shoes. I can eat wisely and drink less.

i can't stop everything. I can learn more about mindfulness and slow down a lot.

So that's the place I am.

The issues around DS are so complicated. We have a history of abusive behavior - him toward me. He was removed from the home for disorderly conduct - but always returned. Even returned against my stated wishes. The cops talked me out of making complaints sometimes. Now he is older and out of the house. But he still uses us.

The evening we returned home he was in a foul mood. He refused and swore at me when I requested to use the family computer, to check e-mail and pay bills. He admitted that he hadn't done a single thing about looking for work, and blamed us. He had the gall to say we hadn't done anything for him. I asked him for the house key, and asked him to leave. He punched a hole in a door (a new door, to boot). But he thinks he was fine - because he wasn't directly confrontational - I was the one who was yelling.

The day after he called, politely, and asked for the rent check. Today he said he would look at job leads.

But it's all a game, isn't it? A game I've been playing for 6 years. Who is the real kid - the real man? The liar or the contrite one, the angry one or the sweet one? If I was his girlfriend - would he be gone? Would I be strong enough? But I'm his mother - there are so many internal conflicts - and he'll never be gone.

Get help, some say. But what help is there? Tough love - we are starting on that, although I don't like the official philosophy. It's hard to watch your kid actually starve (he's lost 20 lbs at least, since he doesn't have money to eat.) The official help agencies - they want to work with people who want to help themselves. he's not there yet.

And off I go to church and I'm to be just fine. I am to be available 55 hours a week and not complain. I am to be present for all the troubles and trials, sit through meetings while we debate throw-away communion cups vs. glass, and listen to fussing without action. I am so conscientious I worry if I pare away 2 hours of the day when I "should" be working.

I have to stop this. Just be. Breathe. Take time.

Prayers welcome.
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mother guilt

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The day after my birthday I got an e-mail from my mother - hey, why don't you call/e-mail me. I was feeling horrible until I realized on second reading that she had sent it to all my siblings, too. Then I could divide the guilt by 6.

The first reply all was from my born-again brother. Then I replied this morning. MP said - of course, it's the Christians that understand guilt.

I promise to stay in touch with my mother.
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