Ponderings on Easter

Since Mr. J was under the weather Easter morning, we did not attend a worship service. Well, not in person. We did get to watch an amazing service on the television. It was a Catholic service out of Buffalo (We assume New York.) Jerry was raised Catholic and has been told he has family in Buffalo, NY. So we thought that was pretty cool. I wish we could go there sometime. They have a very eclectic congregation, speaking several languages. The building itself had the perfect amount of adornment without looking as though all of the money was spent on it. It was nice to be able to ask Jerry questions right then. I am terrible about remembering what to ask later.

 

The sermon portion of the service was my favorite. He spoke about the priorities of Easter Sunday. He pointed out that we, as people, seem to place more and more importance on the things we spend money on for the holiday than why we are celebrating it to start with. The clothes, the candy, the meal… it’s great as long as we keep the memory of Christ’s resurrection first and foremost. The last thing he said was, “And, enjoy those chocolate bunnies.” with a smile on his face.

 

This sparked a conversation between Jerry and I. I was telling him that I don’t remember if someone told me this as a child, or if it is something I pondered on my own, but for me, Easter is not just a celebration of Christ coming back. It is a fresh start. This is where we get to start the year, again. To me, the Easter outfit isn’t just for the one day. I always saw it as a traditionally adding a worship worthy garment to refresh the wardrobe. It is a way of doing the best we can to put on our best when we go to praise and worship.

 

We, well I, have decided that we shall follow what many others do and plant the gardens on the Saturday of Easter weekend each year. This year, I spent the time planting singing hymns and focusing on God’s blessings while putting out plants. That includes the sprinkles that were falling on my back as I was hurrying to put out flower seeds and sweeping the sidewalks.

 

So, this being a spring-board for the rest of our year physically, emotionally, mentally and physically, it is a great time for us to look at the direction we are going in. So, much prayer will be taking place. And, just so you know, I pray for all of you. I pray that God will pour his peace and love on everyone that I interact with, both in person and through more modern methods, on a regular basis. That being said, may God be with you and heap his blessings on you and yours this spring.

I'm a Little Country... I'm a Little Rock and Roll...

At 6:42 this morning, I found myself backing out of my driveway so that I could attend Muffins with Moms at my son’s school. His school is 25 miles or so away from where I live now. I used to live in that town. But, when I left his father, I moved back home. Well, I went to go spend the time before school with my son, baked goods and juice. It was really nice. 
 
He started pointing out mothers to me, telling who their children are. Then he says, “If you want to know who anyone is, just ask me.” I informed him I was fine. But, thank you for offering. He goes to a very small school. But, there were a lot of the moms I did not know. There were however teachers and moms that I have known for years. But, it was still a reminder how much things have changed. And, some things have come back around full circle.
 
I made the same drive at the same time of day that I made for nearly 7 years, this morning. Back before I left my husband. Back before I moved to Abilene. Back before I lost a child. Back before I lost myself.
 
 I am finally starting to pull myself together. And, I don’t mean emotionally. The knee-jerk reaction when getting the divorce was to turn away from anything in my part of my life. Anything to do with the country and farming. I didn’t listen to any country music for months, except for when my so would beg.
 
It sounds like I had never had any experience with anything country or western except while married. But, that is not true. I was raised in a fairly eclectic family. My grandfather was a rodeo cowboy and a farm hand. My grandmother grew up picking cotton. And, my other grandparents had chickens and gardens. They farmed, too. I remember going back my grandmother’s family home and meeting the turkeys. It wasn’t pretty. They raised them to sell. They opened the doors to a huge barn full of them. They were eye high to me. Traumatized is not a strong enough word.
Well, anyway, back on track. Back around Christmas, Mr. J (aka my Hubs) bought a pair of cowboy boots. He had been wanting a new pair for a good while and found some her really liked. And, since he is very particular about the style he likes, I told him, “Sure, go ahead.” But, on the inside, I was very uncomfortable. The last time I had shopped for men’s boots was with my ex-husband. And, I try really hard not to compare them. But, it happens. Both good and bad. And, even though I dated many men that wore boots, it was still somehow tied to my first message and awkward. But, I was NOT going to tell him that.
 
Another thing from when I was married originally was that we raised chickens. I taught first grade one year. It was in the small town where my son still lives. Every year the extension agent would work with the first classes and they incubate and hatch chicks. It was a lot of fun. Except for the last few chicks that just did not make it. Luckily, we found them before the students came in that morning. But, I digress. My children also participated in the activity as first graders. Somewhere along the way, my ex decided that we should get chickens. I gained so much enjoyment from them. I loved gathering eggs and tending to them. Even though I grumbled about it.
 
Well, recently, friends had mentioned they wanted chickens. And, after some checking, I could have them in town. As long as they aren’t too noisy, I would be good. (Our neighborhood sounds like a zoo as it is. And, it isn’t just our house.) So, 2 batches of chicks and 4 ducklings later, I have come to realize that I really am a bit of a country girl. I even want goats, again and a donkey. Those will require moving, in time.
 
I have started to separate out what parts of me were trying to be a good wife and what parts were me being genuinely happy. I will take a while. But, I finally feel like I am starting to feel like I am getting my feet underneath me. And, part of reassembling those pieces of me I left scattered everywhere has been finding which pieces are truly mine. And, surprisingly, for me, some of those pieces are from the country.
 
And, I can finally admit how good those boots look on Mr. J.

 

I Hate April Fool's Day.

There is a reason that I don’t enjoy April Fool’s Day. It is the same reason that I do not enjoy much stand-up comedy. I do not enjoy people being made fun of. And, when it comes down to it that is what it amounts to. April Fool’s jokes end up making people feel unintelligent. Most stand-up comedians have acts that revolve around of poking fun at themselves or someone else. There is a fine line between mockery and imitation. I am not saying that I do not on occasion do it myself. But, I always feel guilty when I do.

And, as a friend posted this morning, we try to instill honesty in our children. Well, except for this one day. Today it’s ok to lie your pants off. As an adult, we understand what is intended to be a joke and what is not. Kids do not, always. We need to set better examples.

And, there is a meme going around about not telling people that you are pregnant when you aren’t. Yes, people take things too seriously and personally at times. But, as a woman who is having a really hard time with the fact that she can’t and shouldn’t have a baby, just stop it. It’s not a subject to joke about. Also, it is terribly unoriginal. If you are going to pull a prank today, at least be original.

I hate to feel stupid. Ridicule cuts me to the bone and I know I am not the only one that feels that way. So, I will take a pass on this holiday, thank you very much.