GOD DOESN'T CREATE JUNK

This is the message from today's sermon. "God doesn't create junk." I am not junk. Straight Barbara is not junk. My son Jeffri is not junk. Gay Jeffri is not junk. My straight son, Scott, is not junk. My deceased gay husband was not junk. God doesn't do junk.


Taking this to the next level I must accept that ++Peter Akinola of Nigeria who detests and defiles gays, is not junk either. This man, this Anglican Primate, this Christian leader who wants nothing to do with any gay or lesbian person, who would have them disappear; this man is also not junk.


As a Christian, I have a hard time with this. To accept that such a person is created by God in God's own likeness as am I, is almost unacceptable. But accept it I must. BUT I do not have to like him. I do not have to like him and all those that stand with him. And I don't. I don't like any of them. They are an abomination to me. If this is one of my sins, then so be it.

HOB -- HOUSE OF BISHOPS

This afternoon I have read way too much about what is and what is NOT being said during the meeting of the House Of Bishops. For any of you who are interested, Jeffri has a variety of sites referenced so that you can maybe get the gist of what is going on.

Or maybe not. It is such a convoluted, confusing thing. What the bishops say that they are about may be in part what they are about. But are they publicly acknowledging the main issue? I don't feel that they are. The issue is basically will our gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered brothers and sisters be equally and unequivocally accepted as full members of The Episcopal Church (TEC). That's it. Is our brother our brother? Is our sister our sister? We drink from the same cup but we are denied the same rights. We are baptized into the community of Christ but denied full and equal membership. We are baptized into the community of Christ but are denied the equal rights and benefits of that baptism.

I remember the first time I had to explain to my children that life was not fair. That was a very hurtful thing for me to tell them and for them to hear. That some people would judge without thought or reason. That some people would act without thought or reason. My children are grown now and it still is not fair. And that this can happen in the Episcopal Church that I so love is hurtful, painful, agonizing.

Last week Jeffri offered prayers for our bishops. I pray for the church.

BLOGOSPHERE

I was over reading MadPriest this morning, as I do every week or so, and decided that I would count the number of blogs that he has listed as his "Heroes of the Blogosphere." Two hundred six. Yes, I counted them. Some of them are familiar, although very few compared to 2006. When does he have time to check this stuff out? I feel like I am pushing it to follow the ones that I do.

Of course, I took the time to count the heroes, didn't I? Still in all, I feel that I'm pushing it to read the blogs that I do follow regularly plus peruse a couple of new ones now and then and keep up my own blog meanderings. Plus continue the declutter project, plus the other daily stuff and a part time job. Maybe I just don't organize my time very well.

Maybe I just enjoy what I enjoy and take the time to do it and fit all the other stuff in around it.

DECLUTTERING ANGST

This process of decluttering is a continuing struggle with who I am and what I was. True that who I was has a cumulative effect on who I am. But is it necessary to keep all these remembrances of what was? Like college year books. I have four of my husband's and three of my own. I hated college, hated being away from my family, hated being in the college situation, hated dating, hated having roommates. Hated the whole thing. So why keep these remembrances. Is anyone else going to care? NOoooo.

But the angst of actually letting them go is troubling me. It isn't as though it is like throwing away a part of myself. The only part of me that is in there is a class picture. I was not a "belonging" type of person -- no sports teams, no hobby groups, no intellectual organizations. Maybe it is the what might have been that bothers me? Don't see how that could be. I don't do groups very well. In any group situation I feel like an outsider, always on the fringe, not important, not necessary. How this came to be, I don't know. I have felt this way since our move to Chicago in 1949. Never fit in anyplace after that.

SO away with the year books.

DIFFERENCES

As I struggle with my clutter, Bill seems to be struggling with his own issues. I see things differently than he sees them. I see CLUTTER, he sees unfinished chores that need doing. The thing is, my younger son and his family are coming for Thanksgiving. They have not been "home" since Bill and I have been living together, and have not been "home" since we renovated the house.

I am seeing my clutter as a negative reflection of my personal comptence . I finally realize that Bill is seeing certain aspects of the house/home as a reflection upon his capabilities as my partner and soul mate. I want the clutter of my studio area organized, he wants grass growing and the driveway sealed; I want the cellar dejunked and straight and ready for workshop projects, he wants the shingles/shakes cleaned and stained.

It has been really hard for me to understand these differences. My inability to see them has resulted in many an argument. BUT, I'm learning.

DECLUTTERING BEGINS

Some progress was made today. I cleared off the table. Doesn't sound like much, but any is some. The mental preparedness is probably the first big hurdle. Deciding that it has to be done is tough. I have lived in this house for going on forty-five years. I came here as a child of twenty-six with two young boys, Jeffri was four, Scott one.


When we did the renovation is 2001 there was quite a bit of sorting but mostly schlepping. I am a saver. My dad was a saver. His mother was a saver. I have some stuff that HE saved. And this is the sentimental stuff that tears at the heart to discard. Somethings just belong. Do they get passed down forever? No! Eventually it will mean nothing and get tossed. Better I make some decisions now so that the boys don't have to make hard decisions later and struggle with guilt. I can do the guilt now.

CLUTTER

This is clutter. A lot of clutter. MY clutter. I spend a lot of time in this corner of clutter and it is cluttering my brain and hindering my creativity. I really believe that if there was some order here in this corner, I would be more productive, more creative, and maybe even less tense. This is getting me down. It is making me crazy. I have become a motiveless, goaless, slovenly individual.

Am I a little down on myself right now? You bet. Am I frantic in my clutter? You bet. Am I doing anything about it? Nope.

This is more clutter. My clutter. This is my corner of the "studio" so no one is responsible for this mess but me. I am setting it out here for publication in the hopes that I will be motivated to DO something about it. Shame myself, so to speak.

There are a few problems here. One, I am a saver. Two, I like to work on more than one thing at a time. Three, I never seem to put anything way. Four, there isn't an "away" place for all of the "things." Five, I would rather play that work. Six, I have tons of of UNfinished creations. And that's another thing -- I LOVE to start things. I have an inspiration and be gung ho that creation for a while only to lose interest and then the chaos of it is left behind.

This is my mess; the other half of the "studio" is filled with Bill's mess whch is in probably a worse state of cluttered chaos than mine. Between the two of us...... well, there it is. Double clutter, double chaos, double frustration.