In which I am choosing to believe Ted and Gayle Haggard

I watched Oprah's interview with Ted Haggard yesterday (via Youtube). Some of you may recall that we do have a personal connection to Ted and New Life Church - our church was part of his Association of Life Giving Churches, our pastors were close personal friends, we modeled our church government after theirs, he personally helped our church navigate the waters after we lost our pastors to personal crisis and so on. Plus, a lot of his staff went to university with us and we remain friends with many of them to this day.
So Ted isn't just some nameless entity to us, a caricature of Big Gay Ted with his power and evangelical prestige. New Life Church is not just an easy mega-church target.
We know these people. And we love them.
We have personally experienced pastoral crises or moral failure or whatever you want to call it on the part of our pastors more times than we care to admit (five times). I used to be very hard on these people. What was the matter with them? What hypocrites! Kick them to the curb! My heart and mind was totally consumed with those of us that were left to clean up the mess. Those of us that were left in the church to face a community with egg on our faces and hurt in our wake. How could they be so selfish? Obviously this is NOT a man of God. Abandon them to their sinful ways!
Isn't that sickening?
My heart breaks now. My soul is grieved. Not just for the church. Not just for those hurt by the lies. Not just for their families (oh, God...their families! Bless them...). But I ache now for the one that did wrong and suffered exile or hurt or was kicked while they were down.  Are we surprised that our pastors are like us? We are all that kind of Christian. We have all had our moments. We've all lied, we've all hurt people. We all give Jesus a bad name at times. Some of us more than others but still - can you rank these things? Maybe my sin didn't make the news but it doesn't make it any less devastating for me or for those that I have hurt.
How thankful am I that my sins, my failures, the things that I do that are not glorifying to God are not on the six o'clock news?  Very thankful, my friends.
I think sometimes that that is the message in all of this: beware of glorifying a man or woman. Beware of putting anyone on a pedestal - especially ourselves. Remain a fellow journeyer rather than shouting from the rooftops the lie that somehow we can achieve perfection and holding ourselves up as an example of shiny-happy-Jesus-people.
We are all in need of God's grace. We always will be. As the writer of Proverbs says "When pride comes, then come disgrace. But with humility comes wisdom."
And a sad thing to me is that when these men or women have reached out, they faced judgement, ridicule or trite solutions. Like Ted, they were likely told to "work harder", to "get busier". We almost become slaves to our own personas, don't we?
Like it's more important to hold up the ideal of who we are than to be who we truly are.
Anne Jackson said this:

we all can choose to talk about our problems, absolutely. and nobody can be responsible for making that decision but us.  the environments that the “church” has created, however, tells us something different. it creates an environment where we feel like we need to have everything figured out, or else we’ll face judgment, ridicule, and isolation.
that just ain’t right.
we’ve got to create environments of honesty.
and we have to lead the way.

My heart is still with those that are left behind. After all, that's usually where I am. I think it's easy to point fingers and say that things should have been done differently by the church. Of course they should have. Those of us that have had to navigate the aftereffects make a lot of mistakes. But I'm pretty sure that New Life loved/s Ted and Gayle still. Just like I know our churches loved/s our former pastors over the years. Not everyone is quick to kick the wounded.
When the news first broke about Ted, I was heartbroken. Not angry, not betrayed. Just broken for the road ahead. It has been hard to learn but I have no judgement in my heart any longer. These are broken people. Watching him and Gayle yesterday, I was blessed. I was blessed to see how they clung to Jesus. I was blessed to see that they had become comfortable with who they were. I have to agree with Tony Jones: St. Gayle Haggard indeed. I think that God was honoured there.
After all, isn't ours a message of hope and reconciliation? Isn't ours a message that says God came here, that while we were yet sinners, he sought us out?
I hear you, cynics. I used to be one. I see the ones that say it's all about money. Or he's a megalomaniac and needs adulation. I see this and understand that it may be true.
But I choose to believe them. And I choose to believe that God is at work here in their brokenness.

In which I review the Christian Writers Market Guide

Those of us that are writers know that there is one resource for Christian writers: Sally Stuart's Christian Writers' Market Guide. It covers everything from agents to editors, publishers and publicists and onward. If you have a book or an article languishing, then I'd recommend you dig it out, edit it again (and then again) and then edit again (and then again) and then dig in here.

The nice thing with this year's version is the CD-Rom that is included to make searches very easy.

You can purchase the book here.

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The Resource Guide to Getting Published

For 24 years running, the Christian Writers’ Market Guide has remained the most comprehensive, complete, essential, and highly-recommended resource for beginning and veteran Christian writers, agents, editors, publishers, publicists, and those teaching writing classes.

This year’s Guide is even handier with a CD-Rom included that features the full text of the book for easy searches of topics, publishers, and markets, as well as 100 pages of exclusive content including indexes and writing resource listings.

This is the resource you need to get noticed—and published.

 

Completely updated and revised to feature the latest on…

• more than 1,200 markets for the written word
  
• 416 book publishers (32 new)
  
• 654 periodicals (52 new)
  
• 96 literary agents
  
• 100 new listings in Resources for Writers
  
• 226 poetry markets
  
• 316 photography markets
  
• 25 African-American markets
  
• and 166 contests (29 new)

 

In which this is worth a read (H/T Julie Clawson)

Service Careers Still Valued Less than ‘Real Jobs’

by Julie Clawson 01-28-2009

In December an Australian cell phone company refused to sell a phone to a stay-at-home mom because she didn’t have a real job.  They told her it was company policy and that if she wanted a phone her husband would need to come in to buy it for her.  No credit check or inquiry into her actual ability to pay for the phone – just a blanket policy to not sell phones to stay-at-home moms.  The mother of three said she was shocked and felt like a second-class citizen.
When this story hit the news, most women I know were similarly shocked.  We’d like to believe that this sort of dismissal of a woman’s identity is a thing of the past.  We are no longer simply Mrs. John Does, needing our husband’s permission and identity to make our way through the world.  We are full human beings who simply have chosen to commit ourselves to caring for others.  And we find the idea that caring for children isn’t a real job just because we aren’t stuck in a cubicle or get a paycheck for being on call 24/7 to be farcical in the extreme.  But apparently the myth continues.
Recently a (childless) friend expressed jealousy that I, as a stay-at-home mom, had so much free time to work on my writing whenever I pleased.  I just stared at him with incredulity and asked if he would enjoy writing articles or a book in five minute increments between changing diapers, playing dolls, wiping up spit-up, reading storybooks, and kissing boo-boos.  Not that I mind doing any of that, but let’s be realistic, free-time only occasionally occurs some time after midnight – if I can manage to stay awake that long.  This work is real.
I find it interesting that in our culture another group of people who face a similar dismissal of their chosen profession are pastors.  They are constantly compared to their congregants who have “real jobs,” or asked repeatedly “so what do you do all week?”  Apparently those of us who choose to devote our lives to serving others for little to no pay somehow fail to be full human beings in society’s definition of the term.  Even within the church, which values mothers and pastors in its own way, we still aren’t considered as worthwhile or important as others in more traditional buy/sell/trade/manufacture money-making professions.
Even though scripture encourages us to serve others and to place others’ needs ahead of our own, our culture often views those as optional endeavors – goals to pursue after the real work is done.  We don’t value service as a career choice.  I often wonder what would happen though if we chose to realign ourselves and our cultural values with the biblical call to service.  I’m not talking about mothers finally receiving the estimated $100,000 a year salary some say they deserve for all the occupational hats they wear, but simply starting to value people as people regardless of what they do, and to see service as a whole life orientation instead of a free-time option.  Perhaps not only would stay-at-home moms (and dads) garner greater respect, but the amount of service given for others would increase as well.  And there are plenty of areas in this world today that could use that service.
Or at the very least, it would be nice to have a world where a stay-at-home mom could buy a cell phone when she needs one.

In which I cave to the pressure

I've been tagged several times for this on Facebook so here it is!
Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note or blog with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged.

1. When I see people driving really expensive cars, I think they must be jerks. This makes no sense. But for some reason, if a person drives by in a shiny BMW, I think "What a jerk."
   
2. I think that I would be an amazing soap opera actress and used to dream of being on Days of our Lives. I even perfected my fake tears. They're A.MAZ.ING. Seriously.
   
3. Everytime I write a story, it's set in Saskatchewan. I have no idea why I do this.
   
4. I write with my right hand but I do everything else like a lefty. For instance, in hockey, I shoot left. In baseball and golf, I swing left. I think I must have been left handed but was only taught to write with my right hand.
   
5. I have 3 novels in process right now. I don't think any of them will ever be finished.
   
6. I am a bohemian hippie writer that had to work in corporate America/Canada - IN BANK MARKETING! - for nearly 10 years. And I had to wear Ann Taylor suits. Which caused my soul to shrink three sizes. The day that I throw out my last pair of dress pants will be a day for rejoicing.
   
7. I secretly smoked now and again up until three years ago. I smoked as a teenager and quit around the time I was 17. But every once in a while, when I was feeling pensive or misunderstood, I'd go out and buy a pack, smoke three, feel guilty and throw it away again. This was very hard to do when we were in Texas because our entire street went to our church so when I sat in my yard, smoking, I had to be very discreet.
   
8. I was once a "Dove Girl". As in, I stood in the Shoppers Drug Mart with a cardboard stand that said "Ask me how you can get a complexion like mine!" I hated that job.
   
9. I once got paid $12/hr to apply fake tattoos to people at an Ozzfest concert. And unsurprisingly, people that are drunk and high at a rock concert all think it's HILARIOUS to try to get a fake Pepsi tattoo on their bum. After about 10 bums, it might as well an elbow for all the shock value.
   
10. When I am rocking my babies in the middle of the night or holding them close, I hum and sing old choruses from church like "As the deer panteth for the water". All of those old songs about how Jesus is our rock and our trust is only in him. Those songs are the only things that still live in my heart at two in the morning. I think that if I ever become senile, those will be the songs I remember.
    
11. I spent a week on the streets of Vancouver undercover as a homeless teenager to gather info for a local ministry. I was given $2 and a few admonitions before being sent out. I did okay. I do recommend that you team up quickly if you are ever homeless.
    
12. I read a book every two days. Even with two tinies. If I don't read, I lose my mind.
    
13. I think I look younger now than I did ten years ago. I looked thirty at 23 and now that I'm nearly 30, it's almost opposite.
    
14. I have discovered I'm very bad at potty training. Very. bad.
    
15. I took organ lessons for almost 9 years. I even competed in provincial competitions.
    
16. I believe in soulmates. Brian and I will go to our graves convinced that we were meant to be.
    
17. I think that if my life was ever made into a movie, Kate Winslet should play me. But of course, I'd like to play myself as well. I can even do a very good fake cry (see #1).
    
18. My hair is almost completely grey. It's that stone shade that's practically colourless with a lot of white hairs. So I colour it. This may be why I can get away with #14.
    
19. I can be a bit of a know-it-all. So I married another know-it-all. And between us, WE KNOW EVERYTHING.
    
20. I hate video games with a dark loathing.
    
21. I don't have a cellphone and have never sent a text message in my life.
    
22. I stopped journaling in hard copy about two years ago. I just use my blog now.
    
23. I took nearly 12 years of French and used to speak it fairly well. Now I can barely read it. But my accent is FANTASTIQUE!
    
24. We eat organic, natural food with the majority of our meals as vegetarian. And yet I take Anne to the McDonald's for McNuggets once a week on the sly to get out of making at least one meal a week. I knew I was busted when she told her Dad that she wanted "Chicken Nung-nuts".
    
25. I gave birth to my son, standing up, in a parkade in front of an audience of strangers. A passerby (who happened to be a nurse!) helped me catch him but I really delivered him myself while Brian supported me. After he was out, I couldn't stop laughing and Brian couldn't stop crying.

Your turn...

In which the Bush twins have some wisdom for us and other matters

Most of you know that I am not the biggest fan of former President Bush. But that is purely related to policy. I also know that he is a good man, a brother in Christ, a devoted husband and now, as you'll see by this below, a wonderful father. Just as Chelsea Clinton is such a credit to her parents, the "Bush twins", Jenna and Barbara, are quite obviously a credit to their parents as well.

This is a recording of the letter that the girls wrote for Sasha and Malia Obama. It's powerful. May it remind us that no one is just a caricature...

He is OUR father.
Not the sketch in the paper or a part of a skit on tv.
Many people will think that they know him.
But they will have no idea how he felt the day you were born.
The pride he felt on your first day of school.
Or how much you both love being his daughters.
Remember who your dad really is.

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An excellent post from Brian McLaren this week. It connects the recent US Presidential election and the shift it signifies to the shift that the emerging church has been undergoing lately.

1. Connections to the past ... without being tied up in the past, or, continuity without conformity
   
2. The realities of crisis
   
3. Call to unity and collaboration rather than polarization and petty squabbles
   
4. Call to honest repentance, bold risks, and big dreams
   
5. Proclamation of a new era ... launched by new questions and new answers
   
6. A new attitude toward "the other"
   
7. Three top priorities: Poverty, peace, planet
   
8. Responsibility - not blame

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Release your women, Church. Release your women.

Dr. Cho, who, shocked by the small size of churches in another country, said, "I told them to release their women, but they insist that’s not the problem. They ask me “What’s the key to your church?” I tell them again, “release your women…” She then observes,

"if, as Scripture suggests, God gives spiritual gifts to all Christians (Romans 12:6-8, 1 Corinthians 12:7 ff, and Ephesians 4:11-13) regardless of gender, education, class, or ethnicity, then one would expect to find healthy, vibrant, growing churches where the spiritual gifts are given their fullest breadth of service."

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Would you consider Europe a "mission field" in the traditional sense?

Ed Stetzer is wondering if you'll go to Europe.

Negative "religious experiences" in Europe have made atheists out of many. In one breath, someone might say, "I'm Catholic, but I don't believe in God." Catholicism is largely a cultural, rather than a religious, identification.

He is primarily talking about Rome, France and Spain. Here in Canada, we have been undergoing a similar shift for the past thirty years. Maybe we're not quite as traditionally Catholic (at least those of us not in Quebec) but the shift has taken place here already as well.

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I haven't purposely ignored the Israeli-Palestinian battle that was underway. The peace underway in Gaza is tenuous at best right now. The images that came out of Gaza - at least the ones not sanitized by the media - were horrific.

I have spent many years amongst the belief that Israel is God's chosen people and therefore, above reproach. These notions have left me. I still have great respect and love for Israel. But I struggle with many aspects of Israel's decisions such as their disproportionate response to Hamas that resulted in the bombing of a UN school, killing many.

Great article from Ed Gungor over at Relevant Magazine about this. Money quote below:

I’m for the nation of Israel and for the Jewish people, but aren’t all nations supposed to be judged by standards of justice and fairness no matter who they are? It's true that God called Israel to be a special nation, but how? Referring to the future nation of Israel, God told Abraham, “all peoples on earth will be blessed through you” (Genesis 12:3). To say that Israel is to “bless” implies people groups should be better off by encountering them. It implies that God had a destiny in mind for Israel where it would be a demonstration of God’s goodness, justice and kindness to the world. Imbedded within the Jewish story over the centuries was a higher cause, not just for the Jews, but for all of humanity. The Jewish people were chosen to be God’s laboratory for humanity—the people to whom God revealed His commandments in order to show what a full human life can be. Israel was to be a light to the Gentiles, attracting them to the one true God and a new way of living.

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The state of church planing as presented by Ed Stetzer. Very interesting to us, obviously, given that we are leaning towards doing this ourselves at some point.

The run down is pretty positive and encouraging (much like K-Love...)

We're Starting More Churches Than Ever

We Are Cooperating More Broadly

We Are Less Denominationally Governed and More Networked

We Are Learning to Be More Evangelistically Effective

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One of the great things about the Internet is being able to get to know authors a bit better. Turns out those smart people are a lot like us! I've quite fallen in love with Claudia Mair Burney lately (she has tattoos! she loves luci shaw! she writes!) over at Ragamuffin Diva.

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I've often thought it would be nice to have an attachment parenting book that is specific to those of that are followers of Jesus. I get very sad by the state of most Christian parenting books - they focus so much on control and behaviour modification, often resulting in mild (and in some cases, severe) forms of abuse.

So these gals are seeking to change that. They're working on a book that I'm looking forward to buying. Here's a link to the parenting philosophy. I loved it.

Our overall message, though, is one that encourages not so much method, but mindset, one that encourages consistent response and an attitude of servanthood, and one that we believe is modeled after the very heart of God the Father.

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Antique Mommy writes with humour about being put "in a box" in a church based on your marital status or age. I've often struggled with the idea of keeping everyone separate from each other, like they are classes instead of a family. I saw this especially when we were Youth and College & Career Pastors...no one wanted the teenagers around. But they needed us and we needed them. I think we all missed out on some great opportunities there.

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Next Wave eZine has done an impressive ten year retrospective on the Emerging Church (does that deserve capital letters?).

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One of the best posts from MckMama EVER about mother guilt (yes, we all have it!).

I decided once and for all today that I do want that child. That I accept average. Down with mother's guilt! Unlike opinions that I held strongly before having children, there actually is nothing wrong with allowing my children to enter a public establishment with a drool-stained onesie, an outfit that doesn't match, or behavior that is less than adorable. That it doesn't display bad things about me as a mother when my children act like children.

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You all know how I love Ann at The Holy Experience. It's like reading poetry every time she posts.

And this one is no different.

Patience is only a possibility when we mindfully invite this moment to rest here, and not hurry on. And we can, because we know that this moment brings us something, something yet hidden, that will reveal itself as a gift for which we can give thanks.

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These posters were created to help define words that we use a lot in the missional/emerging church conversation. Loved. Them.

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In which we celebrate 4 months of Joe

Happy 4 month birthday, Joe!

You are loved more than you could ever imagine.

In which listening is part of life together - and I'd rather do that

I came across this today:

The first service that one owes to others in the fellowship consists in listening to them. Just as love to God begins with listening to His Word, so the beginning of love for brethren is learning to listen to them. It is God's love for us that He not only gives us His Word but also lends us His ear. So it is His work that we do for our brother when we learn to listen to him. Christians, especially ministers, so often think they must always contribute something when they are in the company of others, that this is the one service they have to render. They forget that listening can be a greater service than speaking.

Many people are looking for an ear that will listen. They do not find it among Christians, because these Christians are talking when they should be listening. But he who can no longer listen to his brother will soon no longer be listening to God either; he will be doing nothing but prattle in the presence of God too. This is the beginning of the death of the spiritual life, and in the end there is nothing left but spiritual chatter and clerical condescension arrayed in pious words. One who cannot listen long and patiently will presently be talking beside the point and be never really speaking to others, albeit he be not conscious of it. Anyone who thinks that his time is too valuable to spend keeping quiet will eventually have no time for God and his brother, but only for himself and for his own follies. (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together, 97-98)

HT and thanks to Molly Friesen at Peacemakers for this.

As I look back on my last post about missing the point, I've realised that this may be part of the problem. Maybe we've forgotten how to listen to one another with respect.

Did we ever really know how?

We all talk talk talk talk. Last night, Brian and I were (what else?) talking. I mentioned that I've started to unsubscribe from a lot of blogs and websites that I read. I almost feel like taking a sustained break. It can be overwhelming and more than a little depressing. Whether they are friends, former friends, acquaintances or people I've never met but whose blogs or books or articles I read, every one has an opinion. And so we blog and write and talk and ruminate and it goes on.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to live a real life here.

For instance, I'm trying to figure out why my friend's 14 year old son died tragically this week by accident as a result of The Choking Game. Oh, Cindy - what can words say to your aching heart and empty arms tonight?

Listening.

I've learned over the past 4 years that I need to listen much more than I need to talk.

I think that listening is a form of loving.

It reminded me of this from Nouwen:

More and more, the desire grows in me simply to walk around, greet people, enter their homes, sit on their doorsteps, play ball, throw water, and be known as someone who wants to live with them. It is a privilege to have the time to practice this simple ministry of presence. Still, it is not as simple as it seems. My own desire to be useful, to do something significant, or to be part of some impressive project is so strong that soon my time is taken up by meetings, conferences, study groups, and workshops that prevent me from walking the streets. It is difficult not to have plans, not to organize people around an urgent cause, and not to feel that you are working directly for social progress. But I wonder more and more if the first thing shouldn’t be to know people by name, to eat and drink with them, to listen to their stories and tell your own, and to let them know with words, handshakes, and hugs that you do not simply like them, but truly love them.

So to be honest, I'm weary of your talking. I'm weary of your notes and your blogging. I"m weary of your opinions and your apologetics. I'm weary of your magazines and your radio shows. I"m weary of your services. I'm weary of your building programs and your worship extravaganzas. I'm weary of your ads and your books.

Over the last few years, since we left our church and "ideal" ministry job, to discover Jesus outside of the walls, the interesting thing is this - we did. We found that Jesus is more real to us now - away from the crazy Christian bubble and the megachurch and the "ministries of excellence" - here, amongst our own desert, the rose has bloomed. And it is beautiful.

My easy Christ has left the building. Whither goest thou, my Lord? Somewhere else. I'd rather be one small candle in the darkness than one more lamp in a brightly lit room. Sometimes that's exhausting. Most of the time it's rather exhilarating.

I'd rather be known as a good listener than a good debater.

I'd rather be known as someone that truly cares than someone that always made sure I got the last word.

I'd rather put my money - and my time - where my mouth is.

I'd rather they feel loved than feel that I'm right or smart.

I'd rather people feel valued. Maybe because I listen, they might feel loved. And if they feel loved, in some small measure by me, then maybe they will see that I love them because He first loved me.

We, though, are going to love—love and be loved. First we were loved, now we love. He loved us first. (1 John 4:19)

In which Brian is Canucked - almost

It has been over three years since we moved back home to Canada.

Well, back home for me. For Brian, it was an entirely new culture and country.

Anne and Brian at Stanley Park in the snow (December 2008)

My poor Midwestern husband, my uber-American jock....

His American accent remains strong. For instance, when he taught at the Bible school last week, he mentioned he was American. And they all said "You don't say...never would have guessed" with sarcasm usually reserved for grade seven students (minus the eyerolls though).

Three years later and it's interesting to see how he's Canucked.

For instance, he apologies way too much. We love to apologise. We say "sorry" if you step on our toes. Brian still pronounces it like an American ("Saaaaaary") but he says it. So maybe not full points.

He has fallen in love with delicacies such as poutine, nanaimo bars and butter tarts.

Oh, and microbrews.

Importantly, he's able to employ all of our Canadian words without sounding "like an American trying to say Canadian words". Of course, he still doesn't say "out" and "about" quite right but meh.

What can you do? *quintessential French-Canadian shrug of the shoulders*

He says "too too". Now you may not know that this is unique to Canadians. But anytime we want to say that it's a little more than "too much" we just add another "too" in there. As in, "Well, it's not too too cold." or "He's not too too bad."

He manages to say "eh?" quite easily. Now you may not know that Canadians don't use "eh" as a stand alone phrase nor, as many Americans think, is it the equivalent of "huh?" *shudders at the travesty* Rather it is our way of turning a statement into a question. Example: "Cold outside, eh?" or "You cheer for the Flames, eh?"

He even uses the word "brutal". As in, "That book was brutal."  Brian swears this was how he first came to easily identify any Canadian on any continent. Anytime anyone says "brutal", he squints and says "You're Canadian." And then they say "Why yes, I am! How did you know?" 

Then, which should delight my university roommate who was a Newfie...ooops....I mean, Labradorian....he has even started to employ the word "Buddy" to refer to a generic person. Instead of saying, "Hey that guy over there has a nice truck", he says "Buddy over there has a nice truck."

Other points: he orders a double-double with ease. He knows what a block heater is and isn't bothered by plugs dangling out of the hood of a car. He's eaten a barbequed steak in -35 degrees. He listens to CBC Radio 2. He was justifiably close to homicide when the CBC got rid of the Hockey Night in Canada song. He thinks that Grapes cuts a mighty fine suit. He swears that Jerome Iginla is his favourite athlete ever.

And finally, he knows exactly what this means:

Ah, jeez, I don't know about Pierre, he's been on pogey, won't get a joe job, and won't get off the chesterfield.  I mean, I've been feeding the hoser CCs at the pub so he won't put cheese in his coffee, but I think he's been spending a lot of time outdoors without a toque. Either that, eh, or his gonch is too tight.

Translation: Goodness gracious, I'm worried about Peter, he's been on unemployment, won't get an entry-level position and won't get off of the couch.  You see, I've been buying that goof Canadian Club whiskey so he won't go completely crazy but I'm afraid he's lost the capacity to think. Perhaps the circulation to his brain has been cut off somehow (evidently by "tight underwear" because "gonch" is men's underwear.) (Thanks to "So you want to be Canadian, eh?")

But he'll never truly be Canadian. Even with dual citizenship.

I'll tell you why....

Buddy can't skate worth a crap. It's brutal.

 

 

In which I am live blogging the inauguration

I decided to "live-blog" the inauguration. Which was a great idea until I remembered I had a 2 year old and a baby. So I live-blogged a very rough form while I watched it. And now that they are napping, I am cleaning it up and posting it.

Disclaimer: As always, you know that I am an Obama supporter but I am Canadian. I didn't vote obviously. My American husband, however, did and voted for Obama. Any really nasty comments will be deleted. I'm feeling hopeful and don't wish to be dissuaded today.

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8:15

Updated my Facebook status and Twitter to say that I wished I had a TV to watch the inauguration. Someone told me to check out CNN.com Live and I could have a Facebook party with everyone to watch it.

Here I go...

8:31

Just figured out the CNN/Facebook app. The inauguration is playing on one side and the Facebook status updates are on the right. Everyone is Facebook-ing the inauguration. What a great idea. I love watching stuff like this with people. 

Brills!

8:32

Here comes Laura down the hallway with Lynne Cheney. Can I just be honest here? I have an enormous crush on Laura Bush.

Love. That. Woman. And I bet she can't wait to head home. Who can blame her?

8:33

LOOK AT ALL OF THOSE PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!! Where did they all come from? I enjoy seeing all of the faces. So much diversity and it looks like a good cross-section of America. Despite their drippy, cold noses, everyone looks rather hopeful.

8:34

Here comes Michelle. What a dress! She looks beautiful!

If I had a crush on Laura, I think I may be in love with Michelle.

I know that this is a crazy historic day and so much is going on. But there is a teeny part of me that is really excited just because of her - brilliant, strong, healthy, an equal partner in her marriage, a strong mother and a woman of colour - being in the White House, representing women.

Just noticed that she's holding Lincoln's Bible. It must be heavy with tears and prayers.

My goodness....I'm tearing up already.

8:35

Bush looks pretty darn happy that today is here. Don't blame him one bit. I am not a supporter of Bush but my heart goes out to him. It's been a tough 8 years and not all of it is his fault. I know he woke up every day, determined to do his best. And very bad form on the crowd, chanting "na na na na nananna hey hey hey gooooood-bye!" Tut-tut.

Anne just said that Hillary Clinton is a "pretty girl". That's a girl after my own heart! Yes, she is pretty in the best and truest sense, small child.

8:38

Just got called away by Anne. She had pooped in the potty all by herself without any help or direction, even getting herself undressed. That is almost as exciting for me.

Well, no it's not. But it's definitely up there.

8:38

It's a hard and lonely life to be President. I wonder if people will be just as jubilant in 4 years? Or 8?

8:40

I'm getting tired of red, blue and black and white scarves. I'd like to see one of these senators arrive with a hot pink scarf. Is it part of inauguration Rules that you can only wear "American colours"?

8:42

There's Barack Obama! Wow - listen to the crowds:

"O-BAMA! O-BAMA! O-BAMA" interspersed with "USA! USA! USA!"

What is going through his mind? He looks introspective and humble, no gradiose gestures.

The crowd is very multi-cultural.

The stands where he will take his oath? Not so much.  That's a lot of white people in red and blue and white scarves.

8:47

Sen. Dianne Fienstein just gave a shout-out to the fact that the whole world is watching.

Yes, we are. And we're Facebook-ing it and Tweet-ing it and blogging it and rejoicing....

8:50

Rick Warren, sir, that was a beautiful prayer and reflected the truth. I loved that he prayed for humility and wisdom.

What a beautiful way of reflecting the inclusivity of Jesus - saying his name in different languages.

Prayed along with him for the Lord's Prayer.

8:55

Aretha! THAT IS A BRILLIANT HAT, ARETHA! I want a hat like that. And I want the guts to wear it.

Gotta love the differences between the two inaugurations. Bush had Ricky Martin.

And a Baldwin. The weird one, to boot.

8:58

Sounds like Joe Biden wants everyone still stuck on the Amtrak to hear him.

Joe thinks he's such a rockstar.

9:01

Perlman, yo-yo ma. Just beautiful piece. Moving and haunting and hopeful. Love. it.

What an amazing display. I love how Americans inaugurate. So much history and drama.

They're so good about venerating their history and heroes.

9:06

Here comes the oath of office. God help this man. Praying for wisdom, courage and integrity.

having troubles with the oath guys? Good Lord, someone get the Chief Justice some notes....you know the conservatives will go nuts over that. They'll claim it doesn't count, you bet on it. And someone will sue. And I'll receive crazy emails from people. *sigh*

HE'S THE PRESIDENT! It's official!

9:08

Time for the speech of a lifetime! *tears*

Sounds like he is starting off with some stark honesty. I appreciate truth. Started in the dirt of reality and wound up in the stars with the ideals.

"We, the people, have remained faithful to the ideals." Loved that line.

"...hope over fear, unity over discord and conflict. proclaim an end to the petty grievances!"

(hear that?)

"All are equal, all are free and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness."

9:15

Just saw the Tuskegee Airmen. God bless them. What are they thinking right now?

9:16

"All this we can do, we will do."

I loved that he said that those who say that they aim too high have short memories - Americans have always gone a little higher and further than ever expected.

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of short-cuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the faint-hearted - for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things - some celebrated but more often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom. For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life. For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth. For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn. Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.

Great line - when imagination is joined to common purpose.

Boy, is he ever a pragmatist! Not, is it too big or too small but does it work? Imagine that!

Okay, how precious is that Sasha is taking pictures with her little camera? Like there won't be enough documentation? I just love that a young family is going to be in the White House. They are such "real kids".

9:18

"We are ready to lead once more!" Yahoo! About time!

"Our patchwork heritage is a strength not a weakness."

Yes!

9:22

Loved the message to the Muslim world. Reach out in love. Obviously, bombs are not working.

"Your people will judge you on what you build not what you destroy."

9:26

I am well impressed at how far you have come as well, America!

He makes me tear up every time.

What. a. speech.

9:29

That, my dears, was a beautiful poem. Just beautiful. I loved that line: "What if the mightiest word is love?"

Because it is.

9:35

And THAT was the best inauguration benediction EVER.

Help us then, now, Lord, to work for that day when nation shall not lift up sword against nation, when tanks will be beaten into tractors, when every man and every woman shall sit under his or her own vine and fig tree, and none shall be afraid; when justice will roll down like waters and righteousness as a mighty stream.

Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get back, when brown can stick around -- (laughter) -- when yellow will be mellow -- (laughter) -- when the red man can get ahead, man -- (laughter) -- and when white will embrace what is right.

Let all those who do justice and love mercy say amen.

Audience: Amen!

Lowery: Say amen

Audience:: Amen!

Lowery: and amen.

In which we enjoy the sunshine

We went for a lovely walk yesterday afternoon through Queens Park.

The rain and clouds have finally stopped and we had a brief day of sunshine. So we all piled outside and squinted at one another for a while. Brian and Anne played "snowball soccer" while Joe chilled out with me in the sling.

 

In which I join a mission of Mercy

"The hunger for love is much more difficult
to remove than the hunger for bread"

Mother Teresa

I have become an advocate for Mercy Ministries Canada.

For those of you that are unfamiliar, Mercy Ministries is a residential home for young women to become free from self-harm, eating disorders, depression, drugs, alcoholism, promiscuity, prostitution and also to receive support and care if they are pregnant. They provide everything from counselling to healthcare to education to accountability, pregnancy services, transitional care and, uniquely, unconditional love.

Here's the amazing thing: they have a 93% success rate. Residential programs usually have a success rate of 20%.

Why the difference?

Jesus.

Jesus is the difference. This is a home run by Christians. This is not a prison - you can't be sentenced to Mercy. You can leave at any time. The girls that come are desperate for change. It's a family, not an institution. These girls are loved back to health and wholeness.

You can't have a transformed life without a transformed heart. And these girls have broken hearts.

The horrors that they have endured and inflicted upon themselves make me weep. The enemy is truly after women. The tactics may be different in other countries such as the horrific acid attacks on women in Afghanistan or genital mutilation in Africa. In the first world, our girls are also under attack. They are broken, bruised, wounded and battered.

These women - these beautiful girls - need a rescue.

And Mercy Ministries is there. You know, one of my favourite things about this wonderful program is that IT IS FREE. No one profits from these girls. We are not out to make money off their tragedy. It is supported entirely by churches. No government funding. No strings attached. It is just free.

So my role as an advocate is to stand up for them. To tell their stories to everyone who will listen. To raise money, awareness and support. To enlist people to pray for the home and the girls. To ask people to become Treasure Builders. To stand up and ask for these women what they are unable to ask for themselves.

The first home will be opening in Canada soon. I went to visit the site this week and toured the home. It's beautiful. Just like a home and not an institution. The women that work there are so passionate and focused. I feel honoured to be able to come alongside of them to advocate for these precious women.

Those girls that cut themselves, starve themselves, abuse themselves, these girls that are victimized, abused, raped and beaten. These girls that are trapped with no hope. The things is that we all either were that girl or knew someone that was that girl. And now that you have her face in your mind, imagine that girl - imagine yourself - set free.

And lives are transformed and hope is restored. 

Is there anything more beautiful than redemption?

 

If you'd like to donate to Mercy Ministries, please click here.

If you'd like to read more about them, click here to check out the latest newsletter, celebrating their 25th anniversary.

If you'd like me to visit your church or home group or business to tell more people about Mercy, let me know.

In which I share a few Anne-isms

The other night, Anne spent the evening with Brian. She was so excited to have "Daddy Time" as Joe and I were going out to Mercy Ministries. They did all the things that are fun to do with Dad - they went for a walk and played in the snow and then they came home and ate their supper sitting on top of the counters.

She was sitting beside him as they shared some tortilla chips. He's say "chip!" and she'd take one for herself and then hand one to him.

She wrapped herself around his leg, leaned over and put her head on his lap. And then she patted his leg and said tenderly "Daddy, I'm so proud of you."

Brian was dumbfounded.

"You're proud of me?"

"Yeah. So proud of you."

"Thanks, Small Girl. I'm proud of you, too. Did you mean to say 'I love you'?"

"Yeah. Love you. And I'm so proud of you."

---

We left Blankie at home today. We figured she was okay to handle church without her beloved little scrap of a blanket. 

But when we got home, she raced in the door and flung herself on her Blankie. She then held it close to her neck, turned slowly in circles, and crooned over and over "I miss you, I miss you, I miss you."

---

She's started this funny way of saying "pizza". She gets a very low voice and positively growls PEEEEEEET-ZAAAAAAAA! It's hysterical.

What do you want for supper?

PEEEEEEEEEET-ZAAAAAAAA!

---

In which I welcome the contemplatives

Well, the ones from The Contemplative Tulsan anyway!

I've been featured by Trait over at The Contemplative Tulsan this week. Trait and I go back a few years. Trait and Brian also served in student government together - Brian as VP of Services and Trait as the President. I've also "met" his wife through online interaction and quite like her as well (girl cracks me up....turd pudding....go check out her blog).

I have a few stories I could tell about Trait but I'll keep it clean.

Since he's an enormous Colbert fan, here is a Tip of the Hat, Wag of the Finger for Trait.

First of all, a wag of my finger, sir, for this:  he's the first one that deep-fried a turkey for us. He even did this odd thing where he "injected" ranch dressing into it. Bizarre, my friends. Bizarre. Who does this strange thing? He also admitted to dressing up goats in people clothes, parading them down the streets of Brady, Texas with its citizens before all of the goats are butchered and eaten. Texans.

But a tip of the hat for good taste in beer. Brian and I will remain eternally grateful for the fact that he also introduced us to Shiner Boch, Americana music and the Texas pace. And another tip of the hat for not ratting us out all of those times he caught us making out down in the Student Association offices. Good form, my good man.

In which the Bergens have returned to Kenya to face their attackers

You may remember my childhood pastors John and Eloise Bergen were attacked in Kenya a few months ago. John was attacked with machetes and left to die. Eloise was brutally raped for nearly an hour by three men before being left for dead. She managed to escape, find John, load him into the car (which is a miracle - she is very tiny and was badly injured including a broken jaw) and drive 30 minutes to find help.
They are the bravest people I know.

They have returned to the country for the trial. I received an email through my dad from their son. They are strong and ready.

The trial was very intense starting off with the nine accused 
unhandcuffed men shouting, pushing and getting out of control.  Our 
personal guard told us that they would have to kill him before they 
got to us.

The short mean man who had done all the violence to us July 9, leaned 
over the railing, grabbed a chair and threw toward the police and 
lawyers.  The nine men were shouting for the heads of the two Kenyan 
reporters who had reported them to the police July 9 after the 
incident in the pub.

When I was on the stand, they made me tell everything in detail.  I 
felt no shame, embarrassment or fear.  It was awesome!

Eloise

You can read about it here.
They have also brought resources and money to finish the development work that they had started before they were so brutalized - things like micro-businesses for widows, orphanages and wells/water purification.
They will return to Canada after the trail and then go back to Kenya for good this summer. Their hearts are still with the Kenyan people.
Please take 2 minutes to watch this news broadcast by clicking here. You will get a glimpse of these wonderful people and their hearts.
This is the Gospel. Please pray for them.

In which we've been doing quite a bit of baking lately

Sure, I'm a cook-from-scratcher. But do I really need another 3 dozen cookies in my house?

Not really.

But does Anne need to have the fun of baking - dumping things in, mixing it up, learning to look at recipes, rolling dough?

Absolutely.

And as long as this is the fun face that I get, I'll keep baking and just give the stuff away.

In which Joe captures my heart all over again

I had just finished nursing Joe. His tummy was full and, goodness gracious, he was so content. He gazed up at me, his cheek resting against my breast, his fingers clinging to my index finger.

There is nothing quite like the clinging fingers of a baby, is there? When they are touching you, moving their fingers over yours, figuring out that yes, they are in charge of their own hands. He was quiet and wakeful, staring up at me with his clear blue eyes. It felt like we were one again.

I couldn't stop staring at him. God, he's so beautiful. So innocent and sweet.

Oh, my heart is his. My heart is full of love for him.

I never in my life imagined having a son. Isn't that funny? I always pictured myself with daughters, if I thought about children at all - which wasn't often. But now, this small boy has wound himself around my entire self. I am the mother to a son.

I feel like I understand Mary so much more now. I understand the veneration of millions towards the Mother of Jesus.  She was a mother.  And so my heart is full of sorrow for her; surely she loved her son as I love mine.

I never knew how deeply you could love your second. When I was pregnant with him, I would fret to my mother and my husband "How could I love another child the way that I love Anne?"  And yet I do. I somehow thought that I only had so much room. But my boundaries have been enlarged.

And I am wild over this boy, filled with joy at his existence, carrying him in my heart and split wide open with love.

He laid against me, our eyes locked together, holding hands. Finally, his eyes grew heavy and started to close. He fell asleep there, in my arms. And I held him all evening.

In which I am also missing the point

I've become very frustrated with several relationships in my life lately. Several friends have "converted" to neo-Reformed theology and, to be honest, it hasn't been pretty. I'm not sure if it's as a backlash against the evangelicalism that they've grown up in (similar to mine - nondenom, charismatic etc.) but it can seem that way.  Not because I have a huge issue with Calvinism itself (although I disagree with it); it was more "how" it was done - pridefully and, bent on convincing others of their intellectual superiority, with a great big stick.

Thwack!

I became so angry by their accusasions, pride and "know-it-all"-ness (yes, I know that's not a word). I became blind to my own reaction. Certainly I disagreed but I was rising to bait, I was becoming caught up in arguments about things that don't matter. In short, I jumped in the mud and wallowed right along with everyone else, pointing fingers at the splinters in each others eyes while we ignored the planks in our own.

I was so frustrated by other people missing the whole point that I began to miss the point myself.

I feel like my toes have been stomped on by an excellent article by Ed Stetzer entitled "Converts to What?" Basically, are we, as Christians, more concerned with converting people to our cause than to Christ?

I am concerned that in the name of "fixing the Church" we are not proclaiming the Church's gospel.

...

So, my Reformed friends, let's not only read 1st, 2nd, and 3rd John (that is, John Calvin, John MacArthur, and John Piper), let's go plant some more churches. My emerging church friends, let's take a pause from the theological rethink and head into the neighborhood and to tell someone about Jesus. My missional friends, let's speak of justice, but always tell others how God can be both "just and justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus." My house church friends, let's have community, but let's be sure it is one focused on redemption. My Baptist friends, let's focus more on convincing pagans than Presbyterians. And, my charismatic friends, let's focus less on getting existing believers to speak in tongues and more on using our tongue to tell others about Jesus

...

If you want to convince me (and the body of Christ) to your cause, you must show me it is a better way. You must tell and show something different. You must not just protest what is, but you must show me what should be [emphasis mine].

I spend a lot of my time trying to make space for God in the world. The way that I live my life is focused on this - bringing a clearer, truer picture of my Father to those around me. I want to see people reconciled to Jesus, living in the wholeness that the Father intends.

I live in a world that does not look like McChristian Land. Even with my white skin, privilege and education, I live in a world where people are hurting and suffering, losing and fighting, begging for redemption with groans of their souls that can't be articulated. I live in a world that needs to see God's dream for humanity.

But sometimes I can get so caught up, so frustrated by what I see in the Church, that I lose sight of what it is all for. Whether it's the narrow-mindedness, the bigotry, the pride or any other myriad of sins - petty and great - it all swirls together for me until I almost despair.

In short, these Christians can make me nuts.

It's like we're all on this grand adventure of missing the point (nod to Campolo and McLaren).

Where is Jesus in this bickering, blogging, writing, studying, arguing, apologetic-ing (ack! My verbing is getting out of hand!)? Certainly criticism is important. I've always loved that about my faith - we welcome criticism and dissent more than probably any other religion - there is always room for someone to do it differently.

But, for pity's sake - what's most important?

Jesus.

I don’t want to talk about how Christianity is changing, and who is happy about it and who is not. I want to sing about how wonderful he is, how grace is the most beautiful thing, how following him is what life is all about. (Angela Harms for Emergent Village)

So now what?

In which I spend some time alone

I was given a rare gift today....an afternoon out by myself.

(Sidenote: We skipped church today and Brian spent the morning with us as he's been on call all weekend. I'm glad we did because, sure enough, he was called out right after lunch. Sometimes I wonder if I should feel more guilty about skipping church (because I never do). But it's hard to feel guilty at this stage of my life. After all, most Sundays are spent in the foyer or church basement, walking the baby. I rarely hear the message anymore and likely won't again until Joe is old enough for nursery. I literally go to church these days just so Anne can go to kids' church. Sometimes that's not enough of a motivation when there's snow and ice on the ground and all three of us are a little grouchy.)

Anyway, because he was here, he sent me out for an entire hour by myself.

By. My. Self.

Which is like balm to my soul. I got a cup of coffee and just went down the hill to our local used bookstore. I browsed around for the entire hour in the classics section and came out with 4 books for $20 (The Pearl, Lolita, All Quiet on the Western Front and The Great Gatsby - all books I've read and loved but never bought!).

I am now home because Bri got called to a flood. And the tinies are still curled in their beds. Which gives me a bit of time to blog and have a cuppa before they come charging back out into the world, ready to go go go go go and eat eat eat and poop poop poop (and all of that in about 14 minutes).

I am naturally an introvert (if you can believe it) and need a lot of time alone to recharge. I love people and I enjoy time with my children immensely. But I need to have time alone. I need to be able to read. I need to have a few minutes every day when no one is talking to me or needing anything from me. Which is a rare thing when you have tiny children!

I think that's part of the reason why I am The Nap Nazi; I need it as much as they do!

I am proud to report that Joseph is sleeping 12 hours a night, just like Anne already. He wakes up around 11 or 12 for a nurse but that's it. They both go to bed around 7. I've noticed that even getting 1 or 2 hours of sleep less makes them both very growly and prone to being sick.

And I've noticed that I'm much happier when I can have my evenings to myself. Brian and I can talk all evening or, if he's out on a job, I can read all night if I like. Which I usually do.

So to have good sleepers must somehow a combination of a gift from God and strict parenting. LOL

In which I wept while watching this. And then gave God glory.

If you have 11 minutes (and who doesn't?), they would be well spent by visiting Angie Smith today and watching the beautiful tribute video that she put together for her daughter, Audrey.

"For in our suffering, not apart from it, Jesus enters our

 sadness, takes us by the hand, 

pulls us gently up to stand, and invites us to dance.  

We find the way to pray, as the psalmist did,  

"You have turned my mourning into dancing" (Ps 30:11), 

because at the center of our grief

 we can find the grace of God."

(excerpt from Henri Nouwen's "Turn My Mourning Into Dancing")

It's a gut-wrenching, God-glorifying thing.

Sweet Audrey-Girl from angie smith on Vimeo.

In which I recommend CBC Radio 2

Who says good radio is dead?
I've become a fan of CBC Radio 2 lately, particularly the morning show and afternoon show. Great independent artists and no stupid DJs. I've been introduced to some of my new favourite music through this station. Nice to hear something that isn't linked to payola or playing Rhianna every four songs.
But now my preference has shifted to something resembling obsession, thanks to their new focus "49 Songs from North of the 49th."

Canadians are being asked to nominate songs to create a playlist that will be given to the new US president as an "introduction" to Canadian culture. It's a cool idea and it has taken off across the country. Everyone is nominating songs. It's not so much about Barack Obama as it is about capturing our best songs that represent our culture.
(And come on, I'm going to be a big fan of anyone that plays - during prime radio time - Buck 65's "Blood of a Young Wolf". Love. It.)
CBC Radio 2 has become my respite. And with this new program, the quality has become even better. I'll be sad when it's finished. Listening to all of the nominations as well as the essays people have written to accompany their choice has made me very appreciative of our cultural differences and songs, from coast to coast.
To clarify, they're not paying me (but they should).

In which it is time for Zen and the Art of Trying Things on in Front of Honest Toddlers

It's been either snowing or pouring rain for about a month now so I finally bundled up the kids and took them to the mall. Just to get. out. of. the. house.

While there, I tried on a couple of things at Old Navy. I could probably do an entire blog post about Zen and the Art of Trying Things on in Tiny Dressing Rooms with Two Tinies and a Stroller. Because it was A.MAZ.ING.

But this is about honest toddlers. Drat them.

The place is surprisingly packed. Lots of other mothers with toddlers and babies and strollers. I guess we weren't the only ones ready to get out today. Annie, Joe and I squeeeeeeze into the tiny dressing room together. I try on a corduroy short skirt and turn towards the mirror critically.

And Annie yells out "No, Mummy! You too big for that skirt! That's an Annie skirt! You too big!"

The two dressing rooms next to me pause and start to snicker.

Thanks for noticing, small girl. Thanks for also informing the entire dressing room area at Old Navy.

Guess we won't be getting that skirt, now will we?

In which it is very nearly almost finished

It's done.
Yesterday at 4 o'clock, we all trooped down to the post office to mail Brian's papers off.
One for pneumatology? Check.
One for eschatology? Check.
One for ecclesiology? Check.
All of them edited by yours truly? Check.
Can I just say that his paper on ecclesiology would PREACH. I got so excited while I was reading it that I was all "LET'S JUST START A CHURCH RIGHT HERE IN OUR LIVING ROOM! WOOT!"
And he mailed them off. Then we went to White Spot to celebrate. I had butter chicken. (Come on...you know you were wondering.)

---

So you know what this means?
Brian has finally completed his actual classes for his Masters of Christian Studies.
He has one more semester (at least) to complete his thesis but that's it. He's taking next semester off from Regent to do his research and reading. Then he'll finish his paper. He hopes to be graduating this year.
He's nearly done with school. WE are nearly done with school (because I feel like it's been more than Brian doing this!).
We're thisclose to being finished at Regent College. Wow.

In which I do a status check on our tv situation

It's been about 7 months since we sold our television.

And can I just be honest?

I love it.

I had a lot of ideas about why we were going to get rid of television. And all of those have proven to be legitimate - my place feels bigger, we've appreciated the money we've saved, we discovered we didn't really care what happened with Jim and Pam, I didn't feel quite so fat or depressed because I don't look like a fourteen year old and we have had time for the things that really matter.

But there have been other benefits.

I've discovered that I love the silence. I love the quiet. It's peaceful. No background noise, constantly distracting us from each other. I thought that I would rely on music more and more but actually, I've come to rely on it less and less. When the kids nap, I just enjoy the silence.

But can I just be honest?

One of the greatest things about no television is this - NO NEWS!

There. I said it.

As you know, I'm a rabid politics junkie and also follow international news very closely. I certainly am not one to stick my head in the sand. I don't ignore the news. I just have switched from watching news to reading news. I read the newspaper. I read stories online. I read news magazines.  And print journalism just doesn't have the smack-down aspect of what passes for broadcast journalism these days. I don't miss Nancy Grace. I don't miss Papa Bear's rage and sarcasm.  I don't miss "panel interviews". I don't miss Keith Olbermann's righteous anger. I don't miss the endless car chases or "breaking news" about planes with a wheel missing and the constant "molehills into mountains".  I don't miss the anger or the screaming, the alarmist news stories, the fear-mongering. I don't miss the people in white tank-tops, gesturing to where the cops showed up. The sensationalism is gone from my house and I couldn't be happier about it. I think if half of the world would turn off what passes for 24-hour news these days - whether it be Bill O'Reilly or Keith Olbermann or Mike Duffy - we'd all be a lot happier and prone to getting along.

So we listen to public radio for news, traffic and weather in the morning for about 15 or 20 minutes. I check the headlines. And we're done. No fear. No angst. No anger. No screaming. No interrupting. No crazy graphics and "crawl" or 80,000 images competing for my attention.  My children aren't exposed to stories of rape and murder and kidnappings and war. I can keep them innocent for just a while longer.

Aaahhhh.

Another thing I've loved is how Anne is not exposed to ads. When Christmas rolled around, people would ask her "What do you want for Christmas?" And Anne wouldn't get it. Because for her, Christmas was about family, not gifts. Sure, we had presents under the tree and she enjoyed looking at them. But she was caught up in the Christmas lights and the tree and the "pretty nice" things everywhere she looked. So she'd respond "Nothing". She didn't "want" anything because no one (i.e. the TV) had told her that she wanted it.

Brian and I have read so much and talked so much. It's lovely.

And finally, I've completely fallen off the celebrity bandwagon. I don't really care about those people much anymore. No more Hollywood gossip or snarky remarks about already-deathly-thin-actresses-and-their-maybe-baby-bumps. It's nice to not care or be in the know about such silliness. With the TV, you can't help but be exposed to the crazy. But, even though I may read that John Travolta has lost his son (so sad), unless it's in the mainstream news, I usually don't bother to read it. Just isn't interesting anymore.

I am surprised by how little I am bored. I'm surprised at how much I don't miss TV. I don't miss the shows. I don't miss the ads. I don't miss its unseen influence in our lives. I think Brian has missed it for sports but even there, he's adjusted, watching games occasionally online. But not often. Even the sports addiction is gone.

I still like to catch Relocation, Relocation if I'm at my parents house. We occasionally watch a movie on the computer. I allow Anne to watch Dora the Explorer or Elmo DVDs occasionally, especially if I'm nursing Joe and need to buy 20 minutes. I'm not a dogmatist. But overall, I couldn't be happier with the absence of the television. This experiment is going well.