Kick Off Your Sunday Shoes

I watched the movie Footloose last night for the first time. It's one of those classic movies that I've wanted to watch for a while but never found the time for it. I couldn't believe how much the story line tied into my current events. Here's a quick synopsis for those of you so un-cultured as to have never seen it. By the way, I highly recommend it. This is a tale of teen rebellion and repression. Kevin Bacon's character, Ren, moves from Chicago to a small Midwestern town. This town is set in the Bible belt and the local fundamentalist Christian church is the focal point. The pastor of said church seems more important than the mayor. Rock & roll music and dancing are viewed as sin and are thereby outlawed. They also banned various books based solely on their title. Obviously the plot is that Ren fights the elders to have a school dance.

As I watched this movie, sadly I wasn't shocked by the church's attitude. I grew up in the Bible belt and I know that many of the generation portrayed in the movie would love to ban all kinds of "sinful" behaviors. It's because of this atmosphere that Ren felt like an outsider and I fear many people do when they visit churches.

At church and small group, we've been discussing "church lingo" and how it makes newcomers feel excluded at times. This can be a hard concept for me, considering my background. But, when I consider it closely, the concept is simple. To people who weren't raised in church or the south, saying "Jesus came into my heart" sounds insane and calling them "brother" or "sister" is odd and can be off-putting. There are other ways to explain your salvation that sound more intelligent. I know we're the family of God but the "brother/sister" thing is sickly sweet, especially to a stranger. I consider many new and old friends my family! As Christians, we've created this subculture where watching rated R movies, drinking beer, and dancing are faux pas. Who are we to judge people, rather than love them? We raise up our morality higher than our relationship. Jesus dined with the lowest of the low in his society, yet we surround ourselves with "good" things and fear stepping out of our comfort zones to be in the world and not of the world. I know that's a thin line to walk, but I think we can all do a better job of it.

This may seem harsh but know that I'm talking mostly to myself here. If you're convicted, then so be it.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

Today I was in the bathroom, putting in my contacts, when I heard voices. No, not voices in my head like a crazy person; angry voices coming through the wall. My neighbors were having a loud, heated discussion. So my question today is, if you can hear your neighbors arguing, should you eavesdrop? If they're that loud, obviously they want to be heard, correct? I was instantly enthralled by this live soap opera. I froze with one contact balancing on my finger as I strained to hear more. Turns out it wasn't an interesting battle and that actually disappointed me. I love drama that I'm not personally involved in. I thought today might be like an episode of my favorite TV show, Modern Family. Cameron discovers that he can hear the neighbors on Lily's baby monitor. He proceeds to listen in, jump to conclusions, and screw everything up; but it ends up alright in the end and everyone laughs. Why can't life be a sitcom?

That Which We Call a Rose

I love Shakespeare. I love to quote him. I love to read his plays. A quote from Romeo and Juliet hits home for me right now.  Juliet says, "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." She's explaining to Romeo that it doesn't matter if they come from warring families. Names are artificial and meaningless. She loves Romeo, not for his family name and not for his family. I've always been annoyed by my name. Not my last name, but my boring first name. Sarah. Blah. There's always been at least one other Sarah in my life, not necessarily in my grade or class, but always close by. It doesn't suit my personality. I used to tell my mom I wanted a more unique name like Sacagawea or something (usually after a trip to Walmart where undoubtedly another Sarah had been yelled at repeatedly). The meaning of my name fits me perfectly. Princess. I usually think of myself as royalty. How I apparently came to have my name is an interesting story too. My mom claims she liked the name because of the song "Sara" (the band obviously couldn't spell) by Jefferson Starship. This song is an honest-to-goodness sappy 80's love song. Look it up on youtube. It will brighten your day. The "h" on the end of my name has always been such a debate too! I hate it because most people forget it or leave it off but then Sara without the "h" looks so unfinished. My kindergarten teacher called me "Sarah with an H" because I would get hostile when she misspelled my name. My parents supposedly let me name my little brother. I'm sure I had help though. I can't remember. But left to my own devices at age six, I think I would have chosen Pooh Bigbird or Princess Strawberry. He's one lucky kid. Michael. There was a boy at a daycare where I used to work whose name was Jet Plane. His older sister named him and she must not have had any guidance. My niece wants to name her unborn sibling George. We don't know the sex yet, but she's convinced it's a boy since she already has a sister. Ah, the logic of a four-year-old. George is an upstanding name especially considering a preschooler chose it. Maybe that's because she likes Curious George. I'm just glad my niece hasn't heard the song, "A Boy Named Sue" by Johnny Cash. I think names are important but they're not the end-all. I spent most of life wishing for a more creative name but it doesn't define me. I think I would have turned out exactly the same if I had been named Sacagawea. My name's simple, common and I like it that way.....even if it was inspired by a cheesy 80's song.

It's Disconcerting to Look Out Your Window and See Someone Staring Back

There is this giant gray goose. He resides in the pond directly behind my apartment. I think he and his goose friends are stalking me. I've had run-ins with geese before. Once a goose got in front of my small silver car and had a honking war with me. He might have confused my car for an attractive lady goose. He made me a tad late for class. That's one excuse the professor would have had trouble believing. "No really, sir. A goose tried to mate with my vehicle. And I was inside. Luckily it didn't set off the airbags!" This goose could have followed me from Arkansas. They do migrate. Anyway, I looked out the window today, to admire the view, the pretty pond and whatnot...and there are two huge geese standing right outside my window, staring in at me. What is it with these birds? As if the constant honking wasn't enough, now they have be creepy peeping toms, too?

If I could I would be smoke and I would float myself out of here.

I am in sitting in a smoke-filled apartment attempting to burn off the remnants of a bread bag on my stove. Hubby cooked me breakfast and set the bread on a hot burner. I'm not complaining though or he'll never cook for me again. This just seemed like a mishap that needed to be shared. I'm going to drop the subject now because he will read this and I really do enjoy his messy cooking.

It's getting harder and harder to finish out my last two weeks at the daycare. Today I had to take out multiple bags of garbage (left over from last night) in the pouring rain. I was soaked by the end of the trips because I'm short and small so I already have trouble reaching and opening the dumpster when it's dry. The closers wouldn't take it out because it was raining then too. So naturally, the director made me do it, first thing this morning. I considered just getting back in my car and going home. Today, the director informed that tomorrow I would work 8 hours in the three year old classroom with no breaks. I told her that I would rather not. I offered to work longer just to get a break because I know I'll want to pull my hair out. No. There aren't enough teachers there to give out breaks. Here's an idea. HIRE MORE PEOPLE. I might be "sick" tomorrow.

Now Under New Management

After months of searching, I got a new job. Not my dream job (sadly I'm not even sure what my dream job is anymore) but this is definitely a step up from poopy diapers and bruised shins (yes...the kids occasionally kick teachers)....not to mention I'll get paid more! It was bittersweet though. I found out I'm an alternate for training this Wednesday so if two people are sick or late...I'm in! If not, I start training on May 26th. I see the positives to both of these options...start sooner, make more money now....start later get a four day weekend after my other job ends. It will also effect our trips to Arkansas in June for the weddings. With my official work schedule, if I start training this Wednesday, I won't be able to go to Amber and Duane's vow renewal. If my training gets pushed back, I'll be able to go to everyone's weddings briefly. The other somewhat downside is that my schedule is going to be nights. 4:30pm-1:00am. I could get used to it because I like nights better than days and I have trouble getting up early in the morning. I chose this shift because it was the only one available with Sundays off so I can continue to go to church and small group. That's also the only day off that Chris and I share....I'd really miss it if we didn't have that time together each week. I'll have Sundays and Tuesdays off and I can go swimming during the day! I'm really excited about this opportunity even if it wasn't exactly what I expected. I'm so sick of taking care of strangers' children!! YAY!!! Now I have a desk job with lots of cool discounts and benefits!

My Church is a Labyrinth Full of Strange Things

I go to a new church in an ancient building. It's a church plant that took over a dying church. The building is massive and intricate and beautiful. Today was a "work day" (volunteers clean out random rooms and do some maintenance). We filled up a huge dumpster with junk in just a few hours. Apparently the people who occupied the building before were pack rats with unusual style. The walls of the old youth room were covered in Anime Bible scenes....weird on so many levels. Just picture Moses with a baby Asian face and a long, flowing neck beard. That's all you need to know. There was a large closet in this odd youth room chalk full of ratty old clothes that had not been touched in decades. They were in such disrepair that we didn't have the heart to donate them. So we hid them in trash bags (so the needy neighbors wouldn't see) and took them to the dumpster (I did save one diamond in the rough for my trendy thrifty friend). After we completely cleared out the closet and youth room, we moved to an old Sunday School room on the third floor. This room had numerous ugly paintings in tacky frames, bags and bags and bags of packing peanuts, lots of bubble wrap, a box of stained glass windows, millions of soda cans, a faded poster of DC Talk circa 1990's, and a box marked "Caution: Highly Explosive." It just keeps getting better. After emptying this room, I was glad to move to the first floor. After climbing up and down three flights of stairs, my thighs were crying out for mercy. This room was full of pianos...I'm talking approximately twelve pianos back to back to back in one room. We also found a filing room reminiscent of FBI movies...only these files contained church choir musicals such as A Barbecue for Benjamin: A musical based on the parable of the prodigal son featuring songs with titles: Whoops! My Pocketbook's Empty and Who's that Digging in My Garbage Can? There was also  a bust of a Roman soldier. Yes, a Roman soldier. We took that to one of our friends...he collects and sometimes wears strange things and it suited him well. I don't know how one building can have some many interesting artifacts hidden inside. I was truly amazed and I feel like my description doesn't do it justice.