Hello. It's Me. Again.

Maybe you're relieved to see this post.  Maybe you're irritated.  Excited?  Well, I'm back, in a way.

I needed time away from social media.  All in all, and initially as part of my church's annual January fast, I stepped away from all my personal social media accounts (I still maintained the church's sites).  In mid-February, I returned to Instagram.  About a week ago, I began commenting and liking n Facebook again, but I still haven't posted.  I haven't returned to Twitter or tumblr at all yet, save for posting from my Instagram account.

I have to say that I was shocked to learn that I didn't miss Facebook much at all.  Although my feed has come to be less about catching up with friends than it is about mudslinging, religious fervor, and cat pictures, it's still very addictive.  A great time-killer.  Likewise, though, it's a great way to avoid responsibility and face-to-face interaction with other human beings.  I realized that was not a healthy way to live, and found myself pointedly ignoring my phone for long stretches, or checking only e-mail or text messages.  

In some ways, I've emerged happier.  I don't get sucked into the abyss that is the comments section at the bottom of every Buzzfeed post. I don't mentally correct grammar or wonder what type of horrible education/recreational drug the comments were influenced by.  I don't waste time on finding out which celebrity my cat's personality most resembles (although, for the record, I think Freyja might be Adele).  

I've also been writing.  A lot.  I was entrusted with the huge honor of writing a program for my church's Good Friday service, which is something we haven't done in many, many years.  I wrote it, cast it, and we are currently in rehearsals for both the Good Friday service and the Easter Sunday service.  I'm incredibly proud of my actors, and more than a little shocked that my father agreed to play Caiaphas, the High Priest!

I've also, against my wishes, had to return to work full-time.  I do like my job - don't get me wrong, I really do - but leaving Ronen is not getting easier; it's getting harder.  Since January, he has been struggling - we all have - with separation anxiety and sadly, I get the worst of it.  He's displaying an over preference for Daddy lately, and I get ignored when I pick him up from my parents' house.  Daddy gets squeals of excitement, and I barely elicit a casual "Mum."  I know it's normal for his age (almost two, can you believe it?) but it's very difficult.

But the point of this post isn't really to tell you where I've been.  It's to tell you where I will be.  I'll be here, a bit.  I'll also be posting material on an online writing portfolio in the hopes of landing some freelance work (more information to follow).  I'm working on editing a collection of my church-friendly skits in the hopes of finding a publisher.  And I'm really hoping to work with some of the teenage girls in my church to put together a conference for tweens and teens about what it means to be a godly woman (hint: it's probably not what you think it is).

So I won't be online much.  I'll creep on Facebook here and there, and I'll still be blowing up IG with cat pictures and baby videos, but that's about it.  I'm not ready to slip out of the grip of social media altogether, but I've decided that I'm in charge.  Not my Facebook feed.  Not the links to those soul-sucking political articles.  I'll be using my accounts to my advantage - not the other way around.

An Essay About My Church

We are living in a culture in which Christianity has become synonymous with bigotry, hatred, judgment and self-righteousness.  Those who profess the faith are considered foolish, backward, old-fashioned, or hypocritical.  With the increasing acceptance and promotion of alternative lifestyles, Christians who cling to traditional values are labeled as hate-mongers.  

Let me tell you: yes, some of them are.  Or rather, some of us are.  

Although I frequently cringe when I hear stories of Christians acting out hatefully against those with different values and beliefs, I am still a Christian.  I identify as one, and I try to act like one.  

It's not easy.

I have been pretty open about my beliefs about, well, everything.  I never wanted this blog to become political or "religious", and I've tried consciously to stay away from hot-button topics.  Most people who know me know my stance on abortion, homosexual marriage, feminism, and other major issues.  

And, yet, many of the people who disagree with me still consider themselves my friends.  Even when we have  really, REALLY different opinions.  It's not because I subscribe to the "you do you and I'll do me" policy of life (I don't).  It's just because I realize that my words alone, no matter how excellent or persuasive, will probably not convince a person that Jesus is the way to go.  That's God's department, and it's not up to me to "save" people.  My job is to be honest, to tell them about my faith and about Jesus, not to be ashamed of my relationship with Christ, to pray for and with them (if they let me).  My job is to model Christ-like behavior to the best of my ability - which includes respecting others, loving others, and treating others with compassion.  It does not include making excuses for sin - theirs or my own - and it does not include condoning behaviors the Bible calls sinful.  

The key to living this way - at least, trying to live this way - is to find a community that supports you.  If you are a Christian, you need a home church.  I cannot say this enough.  God did not design us to be blowing about in the wind spiritually, so to speak.  The book of Acts talks almost constantly about the believers being together, physically, and being together, spiritually.  Unified.  Joined.  In agreement.

Even us introverts.  

I love my church.  My church was there for me when I was single and lonely (I must qualify that; not all the time I was single I was alone).  They were there for me when I was dating guys who were, well, not for me - and they advised me, but loved me even when I made the wrong choices.  They were there for me when I met Ross.  When I lost my babies.  When my mom died.  When my son was born.  When I struggled to breastfeed, and ultimately failed.  (Well, the women of the church were there for me, anyway - let's not get into semantics on that one.)  

What I love about my church, other than its welcoming nature, is ultimately its honesty and transparency.  Both Pastor Mark and Pastor Stephanie (yes, she is ordained in her own right and not "just" a pastor's wife) are truthful, caring, cautious, and kind.  I say truthful because they don't play games with the congregation.  They don't wheedle us for money; they don't just deliver sugary, watered-down, feel-good messages; they don't manipulate the words of the Bible.  I say caring because I've watched them put the needs of other before themselves, time and again.  Their children.  Their parents.  Their siblings.  Friends.  Church members who need support and guidance.  I've watched them teach others to minister, to pray, to love.  I say cautious because they are careful to obey the Holy Spirit; they allow him to lead, but never function without the Word.  They do not follow every new church fad, but instead cling to the foundation of Christianity: Jesus as the Living Word.  I say kind because I have known them now more than half my life and I've seen them as leaders, as parents, interacting with their own parents, their siblings, their congregations.  And they're the same people in the pulpit as they are in restaurants, at movie theatres, during family meals.

They are not afraid to preach the Gospel with love.

They don't care about the size of the church, as long as it is healthy and continuing to grow spiritually.  They aren't worried about popularity - they want to be relevant without being a "relevant" church.  They want to preach in a way that is easily understood - in bite-sized pieces.  But they encourage others to dig deeper into the Word with in-depth Bible studies and small groups that deal with some pretty heavy stuff.  

In a society in which church-bashing headlines are splattered daily across social media, where quotes are purposely taken out of context to reduce church leaders' credibility, where splinter groups, cults and sects form their own "Christian" special interest hate groups, where even non-Christians will pick and choose which parts of the Gospel they want to accept, where being a conservative white male is now a crime in itself...

...its nice to know there's still a place like this.  With open arms, a warm smile, and yes... a seat for you, too.

In Search of: BFFL

In high school, I had a bestie.  Her name was Christin, and we loved science fiction and Indiana Jones and comic books and I never felt like it was weird to be a nerd when I was with her.  We wrote fanfic before fanfic was even called fanfic, and we were inseparable.

Then college happened.  We went to different schools, had different majors, and drifted apart.  It might have been a good thing, if only for the fact that I wanted to reinvent myself (like many of us do) in college.  

"Reinvention" didn't amount to much.  I was still a chubby white girl with a geek streak, but I dressed a little more stylishly and figured out what to do with my long, wavy hair (product, product, PRODUUUUUUCT).  Still conservative, although less so, being among theatre people.  Still didn't drink.  Still didn't have sex.  Still got good grades.  I had a good circle of nerdy pals, though, being a double major in English and Theatre Performance.  Few of them really "got" me, though, because another large part of my identity was and is my faith, and most of them didn't understand or share that.  

I maintain (mostly online) friendships with a lot of my college buddies.  Some, I've become closer to.  Some, I respect more because of the way they have handled life's challenges since entering "the real world".  We've all grown a great deal since then, through marriages, careers, parenthood, divorce, losing family members, facing illness, financial troubles.  Frequently, I feel more connected to them now than I did back then.

After college came work, which, for me, was Starbucks.  I think it's safe to say that I've stayed closer with my former co-workers from the coffee shop than from any other part of my life (the exception being church).  I still see many of them fairly regularly, and I feel like I learned more about life from working there than I did anywhere else.  I learned about constructive criticism, customer service, finances, kindness.  I learned about prejudice and bias (yes, believe it or not I was on the receiving end of it more than once).  I learned about responsibility.  Leading others.  Time management.

And I learned that Colombian coffee is totally my fave.

In my group of friends, the ones who are most like me, at this point in my life, are those I met at South Hills Assembly's young adults group, The Bridge.  Through associations with the people there, I ended up meeting the man I eventually married.  I met like-minded people who are now parents, to whom I often turn to for advice.  These people, like me, sometimes struggle to reconcile their faith with the craziness in the world.  But we don't see each other that often.  We all go to different churches now, and some of us work. Most of us have moved away from the ten-mile radius in which we all used to live.  It's not easy to pack up kids and haul them to visit friends.  I'm not a phone person; I'd much rather text or meet in person.  It gets sort of lonely.  Even with a nearby and supportive family and extended church family, it does get lonely.

As an introvert, I'm generally happy to be by myself.  My hobbies are usually solo pursuits - writing, reading, sketching.  But spending all day entertaining a very curious baby can be exhausting, even if he IS a generally easy-going little guy.  It's isolating.  But it's a catch-22 for me, because meeting new people is equally exhausting.  (Especially since people THINK I'm an extrovert and miss my nonverbals that day "please - I need to go be alone right now!")  But when something amazing happens to me - or when I just need to vent, or get advice, I've realized - there's no one "go-to" person I contact.  Other than family.

I realized I don't have a best friend.

I do have friends.  They are wonderful.  My step-sister is incredible and mature and wise.  My stylist Jaime is an awesome mom and energetic adventurer.  My former co-worker Jordan is an outgoing, brilliantly confident woman and mother.  There are more, of course.  I have friends at church, too, but very few in my age bracket and family situation.  (That is to say, there are a lot of women with whom I am close, but very few are young moms/wives.)  They have supported me through struggles and celebrated with me during victories.  Maybe I don't need just one best friend.

But then I see those "bestie" posts on Buzzfeed and Pinterest and I'm all like, "I want that."

But then I see the pictures of doughnuts and bay windows and tabby kittens and retro-styled kitchens and I'm like, "I want that, too."

Best friend or freshly-baked cruller.  Which do I want more?  

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Ketch-Up

My step-mom used to be the children's church teacher at Berean Fellowship, and she led the kids in a simple game they called Ketch-Up.  She took an empty Heinz ketchup bottle (we're Pittsburghers, so the kids literally rejected the Hunt's bottle I once tried to substitute) and passed it down the line of kids.  When a child had the bottle, he or she had a few minutes to share something - whether it was a worry about a test at school, an upcoming vacation, or a Christmas list.  The other kids were not permitted to talk when one of them had the bottle.  Not that that part of the plan always worked, mind you.

Well, I wanted my first blog after my unexpected hiatus to be deep, significant, and thoroughly thought-out.  But ain't nobody got time for dat, so here's my "ketch-up" version.  Don't interrupt.  Read on.

1. I got a new job.  I now work in a pediatricians' office.  I'm still adapting to working full-time after 6 months of unemployment (part of the reason I haven't written lately).  I generally like it quite a bit.  Sometimes my heart aches when newborns come in, but most of the time I enjoy what I do.

2. I'm back on the weight-loss train.  After stalling out after my mom's passing, I'm now exercising five times a week (35-45 minutes of brisk walking during my lunch hour, which for me equals around 2 miles).  When I told my family I was planning on signing up for the Great Race in September, they smiles politely and said nothing.  Which is the response I also got from my husband.  Completely understandable, given my history of (a) hating exercise; (b) having trouble completing tasks, and (c) hating exercise.  But I'm still going to try.  I am starting out with teensy-tiny baby steps so I don't get discouraged.  My blood pressure is going up again - inexplicably - and I know this will help.

3. Ross is still actively looking for a better job.  He had an interview with Duquesne, which was something that we hardly even imagined would happen.  He was one of only three people considered for the position, but he did not get an offer.  I had a harder time than him about it, and had several temper tantrums that were directed at God for being "unfair" and "tricking us".  Yes, even we "mature Christians" struggle to understand how and why God allows certain things to happen that don't seem to make any sense at all.  I've calmed down considerably, but we are still fighting discouragement about his career situation.

4.  We're going to Disney!  I'm not telling when, because then all my Facebook stalkers (pfft, yeah, 'cause there's hundreds of them) will loot my house while we're away...but we have plans, it's paid for, and I'm crazy excited for my first-ever trip to the Magical-est Place on Earth!

5. Loki now plays catch in addition to playing fetch.  If I bought into the theory of reincarnation, I'd say it was 100% evident that kitten was a Golden Retriever in a previous life.  WHOSE CAT DOES THAT?

6. I found a pair of red snakeskin-print stilettos at K-Mart for $3.99.

Now, here's where we take a more serious turn.  Another huge change that took place recently is that Ross and I made the difficult decision to step down as the youth leaders at Berean Fellowship and North Church.  It was a choice that was, unfortunately, a long time coming.  Around the time of our third miscarriage, we began to struggle a little with our obligations.  It became more of a chore than a joy.  Then I lost my job, and even though I had more time to work on youth-related events, it was something I was forcing myself to do.  Ross and I repeatedly heard ourselves saying "no, we have church on Saturday" when our friends or family wanted to make plans.  (Don't get me wrong, Pastors Mark and Steph are NOT slave-drivers!  We could have taken off days here and there when we needed them!  But, for our purposes, things were often last-minute and we couldn't really find a pinch-hitter two days before we were due to teach.  It wasn't fair to the people we'd be asking for help.)  We loved our church (and still do) but were lacking the fellowship of our circle of peers (many of whom we'd met at the now-defunct young adults' group The Bridge).  Ross's sister Lindsey was in town twice (we only see her a few times a year, at best) and both times we were unable to see her.  Then, his dad had a stroke right before Christmas, the healing from which has been complicated by his Parkinson's.  And then, in February, my mother died.  (It still sucks royally to even type those words.)  And I still wasn't finding work.  My unemployment was running out.  Things were really ugly.

Dealing with the pressures of so much loss in such a short period, we weren't treating the kids the way we wanted to - heck, we weren't treating ourselves the way we should have been!  Ross and I went back and forth debating, discussing, and even arguing about what was best for us, for the kids, and the church.  We were concerned that the kids would feel we had abandoned them.  We were concerned that we were giving up simply because the job was tough.  We were concerned that we were letting down our church - and God.  We were concerned that people would fear we were leaving the church (that fear WAS confirmed as several members of the congregation did approach us with concerned whispers, asking if we were heading elsewhere - at least they came to us instead of letting their imaginations run wild; we were grateful for that respect!).  We prayed about it and finally brought it up to Pastor Mark - but God had already given him a hint as to what was in our hearts.  We received nothing but encouragement and understanding from him, which confirmed that we had made the right choice for this season in our lives.  Our goal right now is to focus on our friends and families - to spend time with them.  To help Ross's dad with his antiques business.  To see our nieces' recitals.  To grill ridiculously delicious burgers on my aunt and uncle's patio.  To hop from estate sale to estate sale with Deana as she hustles for eBay treasures.  To see our friends' new babies.  To reconnect with the many relationships God has given us.

We love our church family dearly.  We love serving.  We love being trusted as leaders, even if we don't carry a title anymore.  We love our pastors, who never made us feel like failures - or even that we were giving up at all!  We love the kids we taught, and we're still a part of their lives.  We love talking with them and staying in touch - even if we're maybe not quite as cool as the incoming leaders, Tim and Victoria.  But we're grateful that God's voice is persistent, and he kept telling us what was most important in our lives right now.

We still want children.  Desperately.  We feel that God is using this season to draw us closer to him and the network of loving friends and family we have in order to make that dream a reality.  We have a "plan" in place, but experience has taught us that God loves wrecking our plans because we dream TOO SMALL.  His goals for us are so much bigger than we can wrap our minds around...and sometimes we have to take a step back and be willing to wait for his next step to be revealed.

That's where we are right now.  Waiting with a purpose.  

Yeah, that doesn't make it any easier.  But here we are.  Go ahead, God.  I'm watching for you.