Finding My Religion Part #5

For those of you finding this blog for the first time today, you might want to acquaint yourself with the first 4 blogs in the series:

The Genesis of My Faith

The Exodus of My Faith

The Lamentations of My Faith

The Numbers of My Faith

The Psalms and Songs of My Faith

Music has always been my passion. There are times when I am singing that I feel His presence around me. I have felt the light and seen the light of God around me when I am lifting up His name in song. For those of you who know me, this cannot be a surprise finding. For those of you who do not know me...I know God blessed me with the gift of music, thus I believe he lifts me up when I am singing for His purpose.

So have I ever had an "aha" moment? Yes. But it was simply singing in church as a young child. Nothing like being on an actual mountaintop, but powerful just the same. I also know He works in my life. Each time I tried to give up this gift of music, He intervened. I struggled with the idea of becoming a teacher like my parents - if nothing else, just to be defiant. However, each time I stepped away, He pulled me back. Six years ago I finally threw up my hands and said - "Use me Lord!" And you know what, reader? Ever since then my teaching abilities have flourished and I have no desire to pursue another career.

With all that I have shared, you must be wondering what do I believe? So in this blog I will conclude with where I am currently on this journey of mine. I will be honest, reader, I am in no way, shape or form completed with this journey. And in all truthfulness - that is very exciting to me! I love to learn and to grow, and as long as I am alive I plan on doing just that.

I believe we are all connected spiritually. All people: no matter where one's faith lies, where one lives, what color one is, what political party best suits one, what one does for a living, what one's bank book looks like, or what one's sexual preference is. ALL OF US. When I was anxious about what to do with schooling for Zoe a few years ago, a very wise woman told me, "You need to do what is best for you and for your family. No one can tell you what is best for your family. Only you know that." This phrase has stuck with me ever since. I believe that we will are all on journeys and that we all have lessons to learn on this Earth. However, my journey is not your journey. So even if you know the answer, I may need to take many more stumbles and falls before I get there.

I have become quite confident that I am a Christian. I no longer doubt that. I believe in the principles of Jesus, and his desire for us to live more humbly, more loving, and more kind. As Zoe reminds me almost everyday - "BE KIND BE LIKE CHRIST!" 

 

As some of you know, I also have studied with a Jehovah Witness (Bonnie) to see what kind of religion they have.  I always wondered - you know the kookie people who come to your door and state "the end it near"!  And I went from believing they were a cult to really respecting their commitment to living a life based on the Bible (or at least their interpretations of it).  Bonnie gave me a great gift, even if she is not able to still be my friend: she taught me that what is unknown is simply unknown not evil or wrong.

I am open to knew ideas, to the possibilities of creating new paths on this spiritual journey.  I am grateful that I have wonderful readers to share this with, and I appreciate the fact that I'm not just experiencing this alone. 

Thank you all for listening and your loving and kind words of wisdom along the way!

Finding My Religion Part #4

This is the fourth installment of Finding My Religion.  If you'd like to read the first three parts:

The Genesis of My Faith

The Exodus of My Faith

The Lamentations of My Faith

The Numbers of My Faith

When Zoe was born, my world changed. When Zoe was born, my world turned upside down. It took about 6 months before Jim and I even thought about looking for a church. After all, I didn't want to be Lutheran (nor did he) and he didn't want to be Catholic (nor did I...). We determined that we needed to find a church with a traditional service, since that was most comfortable. No worship bands, no power point productions, no coffee house in the lobby, no massive congregation that gave us a number instead of a name.

We decided to try a Congregational church because it was modern (women could minister) but traditional in the service (hymns and familiarity). The church was a small church, 3 children, lots of acceptance and close to home. There was an excitement that I thought was infectious. I loved the way the older congregational members were so thrilled to get younger families. We felt right at home, and became members when Zoe was about a year old. When Evie was born we had both girls baptized at this church, because we thought this would be our "forever" church. Within just a little time, 12 children were part of Sunday School or newborn babies.

At the time, our church paid for a Sunday School teacher, because frankly it was nice to be able to send your child to Sunday School and enjoy church. Yes, this particular Sunday School program met at the same time as the adults worshiped. This seemed so lovely as a parent. I would send Zoe off and let my baby Evie sleep away during the service.

And then, the Sunday School teacher quit with no notice.

Then a few months later, for VERY good reasons, the pastor was fired. We were now a church without a pastor and a Sunday School program. This was so upsetting for me. There were approximately 12 children attending before the pastor left, and only 6 children attending after the pastor left. Two of those children were mine. My ladybugs were getting older, and I started questioning if the church was still right for us. Jim and I decided, yes.

So a group of 5 ladies (myself included) took over Sunday School responsibilities. We split the schedule into 5 week rotations and it seemed to work effectively for us. However, a few months later, one of the families left and there were only 4 children. I was voted in as the Sunday School Director, and spent countless hours (most likely 40+) working on the Sunday School and Nursery room. I organized the supplies, cleaned, and removed items that were no longer needed. Time passed and and 3 more children joined. If you are following, that is 7 children in the Sunday School program.

numbers...and more numbers...and, well, you get it

And those are not the only numbers that were altered.  Our friend was the treasurer, and he told us that the church had approximately 8 years left financially (this was in 2007).  That is, unless a miracle happened.  And so far it has not.  More people left the church: some passed away, others left for a better place to worship.  The truth is, I still really loved it there...even though my children were 2 of 6 children at the church.

Time passed, we got an interim pastor and I transferred my "power" onto another mom.  Currently we have 6 children in the program and only 3 teachers.  All 3 of the Sunday School teachers are moms and have 2 children each.  It has become quite cumbersome teaching every 3 weeks, but no one else wants to take on that task.  After all, we have a one room Sunday School program to meet needs of children 4 thru 12.  HUGE difference in interest and capabilities.  However, how else should we teach?  Make three classes?  No.  I cannot even begin to imagine this.  Plus the average age of the congregation is 80.  Can you imagine an 80 year old teaching?  Neither can I.

A couple years ago my mother, father and grandfather joined the church.  At the time they joined, Jim and I were very VERY active members.  And I was very proud to share the church.  My mother joined the Dioconate, and my father and grandfather serve as ushers and greeters quite often.  They quickly became active members as well, and I could say that I served the church by being the saying: Each One Reach One.

Our commitment this passed year has faltered.  I no longer look forward to going to church, and have to do everything possible to motivate myself to attend.  The hymns are okay 50% of the time, but quite often there is one that is just horrible.  And the sermon is just poor quality.  Pretty much there are great points in the sermon, but I can only compare it to eating a meal of pancakes, potato salad and hamburgers.  All are great, but the three do not make a cohesive meal.

A few years ago, I started a book club and created a woman's circle called - The Eve Circle.  When I could no longer come on Monday evenings because I taught, nobody wanted to change these monthly events to a different night.  I was basically pushed out of the book club, because now another member does most of the book choosing - rather than adhering to my list of who chooses next.  I attended the last book club, because it is summer and I'm not teaching lessons on Monday evenings.  The meeting was no longer enjoyable.  I felt like an outsider.  My family also took a month off from attending church (we did attend a different church one of those Sundays), and when I was in church on Sunday I also felt like outsider.

The truth is, a church is a lot like a family: people hurt your feelings, people take advantage of you, people love you, and people praise your talents.  But unlike a family, a church is not blood and it is not something you have to stay involved in if your spiritual needs are not being met.  I could never imagine shunning my parents, nor my sister.  Maybe that is just me.  Dunno.  You cannot choose your family, but even my mother is disgusted that I am talking about finding another church.

As the girls get older, their needs continue to change.  I don't mind teaching here and there or teaching before or after worship.  However, I think it is very important to teach them about what happens during worship, rather than parade them out like cattle to do a craft.  That can work for a preschooler, but a 7 year old should be able to participate in worship and be able to enjoy and learn what being a part of a congregation is all about.

Sure, both girls go to a Christian school, so they get daily reminders of Christian values and the teachings of Jesus.  At some point, I want the girls to get more than a craft from Sunday School - but for now I am giving my current church a lukewarm effort.  I am hoping to spend some time working in the Sunday School rooms and nursery this week, as they are very neglected by others.  Is this my role at the church now?  The cleaning person?

Finding My Religion Part #3

If would like to read Part #1:

The Genesis of My Faith

Or Part #2:

The Exodus of My Faith

The Lamentations of My Faith

*isn't this picture beautiful?!*

I suppose most people go through life questioning why, but I have always been an above average inquisitor.  From an early age I wanted to know answers to my "burning" questions (picture a kid with her hand raised going, "me me!"), and I wasn't satisfied until I had the complete answer (even if it was slightly made up by my Grandpa Riske).  I also have always been very empathetic to other people's emotions and needs.  I have a difficult time ignoring how people feel about me - especially if they harbor negative thoughts.  This probably stems from getting bullied in my past.  The negative stuff is always easier to believe (actually seven times statistically).

And I do tend to seesaw from overwhelming trust to having a wall up with people.  I acknowledge that this contradicting behavior directly relates to my desire/indifference to hang out with people (or be in public at all).  Most would say that I am an outgoing person, and I have to admit that I am good with people.  However, I have learned skills to act comfortable even when I have no desire to be around people.  I remember a lot of times during my life that I would needed to be alone (or in the company of very few), and honestly reader I have been in that place for the last couple of weeks. Maybe that's why I am so introspective with these religion posts, but I digress.

So from 2001 until 2005 I did not go to church.  However, I did go to a few Christmas masses at the in-laws church, and I went to a number of weddings as well.  I cannot pretend this counted as having religion, but rather pretending to have religion out of obligation.  When I was a kid, we called people who only went to church at Christmas and Easter the C&Ers.  I was becoming just a Cer.  I could not find ANYTHING positive about church - NOTHING at all.  After all they were all corrupt, they were more focused on the external than the internal, they were exclusive, etc.

When Jim and I decided to get married we did not have a church in mind.  In fact, in 2002 we were not interested in having a church wedding at all.  I had been married before, in a church.  Jim had denounced the Catholic faith when he was younger.  We had initially thought it would be fun to get married in catacombs or have a destination wedding.  But I felt sorry for his parents, who thought our marriage would be without religion...and therefore, damned.  So we agreed on renting a pastor and having an outdoor wedding.   

Life in those early marital days were VERY business focused - I was pretty much working 60-80 hours per week.  And honestly, I didn't see the effects it had on my marriage.  I really loved my work at the music studio, and Jim and I had fallen into a very comfortable routine.  Then I suffered a miscarriage in 2004, and that was the point I knew I needed to sell the studio and move onto a less stressful work situation.  It was shortly thereafter I became pregnant again.

Then Zoe was born.

*not me...but it accurately illustrates my experience*

Zoe's birth story is not the kind you read in books, nor was it at all what we planned (we were VERY naive). The birth classes suggested bringing along cards, having activities to keep you busy (because labor could take hours and hours and hours), and that I could take showers to relax. I even remember seeing the movies and slides with the happy and relaxed moms - who had all gone through prenatal Lamaze classes. Smiling...breathing...just naturally wonderful. I was looking forward to the spiritual event.

But all of this did NOT happen with Zoe. I started labor at 8am and she quickly came 8 hours later at 3:59pm. I pushed for two of those hours, because she was stuck. In fact, at one point, they told me they would have to vacuum her out...yeah. So I admit, reader, I did a lot of bargaining with God. You know, the proverbial, "If I get through this I will come to church!" Or, "If you can speed this along I promise I'll return to church!" And, well, He did a good job on his end. Therefore, it was my turn to make good on His.

Finding My Religion Part #2

To read Part #1, click here:

The Genesis of My Faith

Today I continue the saga of my faith journey, with the appropriate title:

The Exodus of My Faith

When I was a high schooler, I was very close to the Assistant Pastor, Jim.  I babysat his children and I taught his daughter weekly piano lessons.  He was a very good man, but he left the church only a few years after joining the staff.  When he left I thought it was for a better opportunity in Illinois, but I do believe there was more to it.  Would I have stayed if he had?  Maybe.  But I do not believe he would have stood for what happened to me.  I now believe he was forced out - as often happens when someone doesn't fit in with the "norm".  This time, of course, the norm was a very opinionated group of disgruntled parishioners and Pastor Jim didn't fit.  Neither did I.

*the way I felt about religion*

Due to the way I had been treated (the shunning, the music director exploitation), I became very disenchanted with religion all together. It wasn't as if I was attending another church or worshiping elsewhere, I was simply not going to church. This was 2001, the year I started dating my husband, Jim, and the year I quit my "real" job to be a full-time music teacher/business. Therefore, I made my Exodus of ALL religious institutions.

About a year after I left the Lutheran church, I got a letter in the mail. I knew it was from the church - their address was on the outside. I had been receiving the monthly messengers, so getting mail wasn't odd. However, the crazy part was what the letter said. Since I no longer have the letter, I can only give an approximation of its contents. The letter stated that the church knew I made $50,000 per year, so that according to their records I owed $5000 in tithes. They had just installed a new "state-of-the-art elevator system" so they were hoping I would submit my share.

First off, I did make that much prior to leaving the business world. However, I never once told them what I made - NEVER! This was also before Google and the way our lives are so public, which was really disturbing to me and my psyche. I also found it to be really ballsy - even if I had told them how much I made, what made them so certain that I would WANT to give this money to them. And I assume they kept pretty good attendance records, since they collected name/address cards during communion (which was once a month). So they would have been well aware I hadn't been attending regularly. I suppose the truth was, they didn't care about me...just my money.

About a year after that, I got a postcard from the new youth director. She was hoping I would participate in new youth activities at the church. Mind you, reader, I was 27 years old - a bit old to be considered a youth. I simply laughed and knew that I would not be returning; it wasn't a situation of a pastor (she seemed really nice), I no longer believed in the doctrine of the Lutheran church.

This was also the time I began reading interesting and very thought provoking books.

*one of the books*

Did this book change the way I viewed Christianity?  No.  But I did begin realizing that the church was/is man-made.  Men created the doctrine, not Jesus.  I wasn't even certain if I believed that Jesus was a real man.  I am not embarrassed to admit this - I questioned my faith, as MANY Christians do.  I read a lot of books on different faiths, which were definitely fascinating.  Why?  Because as a student of the Lutheran faith, we spent a lot of time getting taught what it was to be a Lutheran, why we were superior, and what we believed.  We were simply taught that the Jews killed Jesus, Catholics were hypocrites because they worshiped idols (Mary, Saints, etc.), and any multi-god/goddess faith was breaking the laws of Moses (The Ten Commandments).  How narrow-minded!

I suppose I should answer a few questions that you might have: Did I still pray?  Yes.  Did I still believe in God?  Yes.  Did I feel betrayed?  Yes.  Did I feel there was something else out there?  Yes.

Finding My Religion Part #1

In an earlier blog, I mentioned that I have been a bit disillusioned with my church.  I also stated my intent to write a blog in the near future. It is very difficult to describe my current frustration and sadness if I don't start at the very beginning - the very Genesis of my faith.  I do hope, reader, this blog post gives you more incite into my heart and mind.

The Genesis of My Faith

*random parishioners*

I was baptized and raised in a Lutheran Church.

When I was a little girl (I have memories starting around 4), I had a very strong faith in Jesus. In fact, I had a crush on the Anglo-Saxon version of Jesus. I carried around various pictures of Jesus, and thought he was extremely handsome. I also looked forward to traveling up north each summer, because on the road there was the "Jesus Sign" which said - Are You On The Right Road?

I looked forward to going each week to Sunday School and learning about Jesus. The church had two worship services- 8:30am and 11am - and Sunday School took place between the services. Most of my knowledge of Jesus was from curriculum and not scripture focused. I did receive a Bible for my First Communion, which was when I was 12. My Grandma and Grandpa Riske bought the white leather bound Revised Standard Version Bible and had my name embossed on the cover in gold. I did use it during Confirmation Classes, but not very often. We usually spoke about what Lutherans believe, and why being a Lutheran was superior to other faiths. In fact, I finally read that Bible cover to cover only a few years ago.

I was not a saint, reader, so don't think this blog is geared towards my piousness. I admit to getting kicked out of Confirmation Classes on two separate occasions: disagreeing that babies not baptized go to hell, and stating that there were in fact dinosaurs. On both occasions I was forced to write a letter of apology. I knew God was a loving God, and therefore would not subject a baby to hell if they were not baptized. And I couldn't understand why dinosaurs couldn't be added to the animals in the creation story. The church was strict in what it required for membership, but I really didn't know anything else. However, even though I was a bit of a rebel I was Confirmed at 14. This was the completion of Sunday School at our church.

When I "graduated" from Sunday School, I attended the High School class to hang with other High Schoolers. It was a place to watch movies, talk more in-depth about being a Christian (more importantly a LUTHERAN), and further explore our studies. I immediately felt very out of place. I just didn't buy the idea that praying to God for an "A" in school was a good idea. I also felt that God's grace did not allow you to "get out of" doing something at home or at school. The other kids were VERY cliquey and they seemed to have no space for an awkward 14 year-old girl.

I decided the best fit for me was teaching Sunday School. First I was a helper, and I assisted the nursery teachers with singing and playing. Then I got my own class of 3 & 4 year olds. I was a Sunday School teacher for many years. When my first marriage failed, I never faltered my commitment to the kids. I loved creating projects based on the curriculum, and the children brought me joy. I also found humor in the fact that when I taught the creation story, dinosaurs were mentioned. I laughed really hard when I realized that Lutherans DID believe there were the thunderous creatures, and that I wasn't a heathen after all.

It was during the school year 2000-2001, that the music director of the Cherub Choir (little kids chorus) noticed my ability to direct little ones. So she asked if I would voluntarily fill in for her. I spent every Sunday in November and December preparing the children for the Christmas Program, and I accompanied the children for their church performances during both Children's Sundays. I also ran the Christmas Program rehearsal with the children - which included a lot of organization and direction on my part. At the finish of the concert, the music director was given a huge bouquet of flowers and commended on a job well done. There was a standing ovation and praise given from the parishioners.

*random pageant children* 

Over Christmas break, I discovered that the music director was double dipping. She was getting a salary from our church AND working at another church. She was working at the other church on Sunday mornings, and therefore could not work with the little cherubs. I never got thanked at by her or the Sunday School director. I was also too naive to say anything.

So I went ahead and prepared the Cherub Chorus for the Spring show. This also meant I was preparing, accompanying and directing monthly Children's Sunday performances as well. At the end of the school year, the music director was once again praised for her job, and I was not even acknowledged for my "help." When I brought my concerns to the Director of Sunday School, he seemed complacent. As Summer drew to an end, I was approached to run the Cherub Choir as a volunteer for the 2001-2002 school year (the old Director was not available...fancy that). They were not going to pay me. I did a lot of praying, and decided to write a letter which stated I would not teach nor direct the choir that school year. I was definitely being taken for a ride, and it was only just beginning.

What happened next was very disturbing, and it still is sad even all these years later. When I was a teacher, people always said "good morning" and "hello Michelle" and "enter nice text here". When I stopped teaching I would come to church and no one said ANYTHING. I would smile, and people looked away. I swear it was like I was getting shunned. I honestly cannot tell you how upsetting it is to be ignored by people who you considered your extended family. It was ridiculous behavior, and I decided that I was no longer going to worship at this church.

My Little Ladybugs: All in a Row

Last May I participated in 31 Days to Clean, and truly seemed to make headway into organizing my home.  I suppose what surprises me is that over a year later I am still making alterations to that organization - with the intent of making things even better and streamlined.

One of the areas of my home that seems impossible to keep up with is: The Ladybugs' Play Room.

*not my Ladybugs*

I should be honest, reader, and tell you that I do make the ladybugs clean their spaces.  I also do a quick clean-up each morning after they get dressed, and each evening before they enter Slumberville.  But picking up clothing from the floor and making sure library books aren't integrated (and therefore, lost) into our collection is far from maintaining organization.  

I came to a sobering conclusion yesterday - having children means having tons of little "stuff" that is saved, collected, and stashed wherever it can fit.  And what is the bane of my existence?  You guessed it: vending machine toys.

oh the possibilities!

And where do these little items go?  Behind the TV, in the couch, under the seats in the car, and other lovely locations around our little home.  

For awhile I had this grand plan to organize the ladybugs' toys, but I finally resisted the urge and simply made a place for everything.  I even labeled the bins so I didn't always have to be overseeing the cleanup process. I truly hate standing in a doorway spouting encouraging comments through a grimaced face.  And in the last year, this seems to placate my need to see floor when I pass by the Play Room.

I suppose, reader, you could question why I even leave the Play Room door open.  Very good question.  However, our home is not large.  The Play Room is directly across from our upstairs Bathroom.  Having the door open makes the hallway space a bit larger, and well, "roomier."  It's all an illusion.  

This morning, while the Ladybugs were at VBS, I went through their Play Room's closet.  I did find out where they had stashed some of their trinkets when I have asked them to pick up their "stuff."  I aslo successfully relocated some toys in the attic and brought some older toys to the forefront.  I find satisfaction in my ladybugs finding enjoyment out of toys they had forgot.  I didn't go through each toy bin, but I do go through those after birthdays and Christmas.  Mainly because I have to find homes for all the new "stuff" brought into the home.  

Tomorrow I am tackling a storage unit in our basement.  It has a lot of old paint, and fortunately there is a hazardous waste pick up in our community on Saturday.  So I plan on really taking care of this space.  Hopefully VBS will allow me enough time to complete this daunting task!

My Favorite Witch

Witch Hazel

With all the pricey face products on the market, I was curious what most contained.  Today I will focus on toners, sometimes called: cleansers.

I spent countless hours reading the ingredients of the popular toners on the market.  I knew there would be many with names that I could not pronounce, but I was surprised that some even contain acid!  When I have used toners in the past, I have been pretty unimpressed with the additional services they provide.  I used to be of the mindset: what ever happened to good 'ol soap and water with a washcloth?

I have come leaps and bounds from using soap and a washcloth, but I still wonder what makes expensive products better than Dove bar soap.  Upon research, I was disgusted with what goes into a toning product.  Did you know some of the big brand name companies put coloring in their products?  Yeah, who doesn't need a little Blue #1 and some Red #33 or maybe a bit of Yellow #5? Ugh. Gross.

My research changed, and I began searching for something that would remove the excess dirt and grime, but not leave my face completely crusty and dry.  I was always impressed with the amount of dirt alcohol pulled off my skin - even after washing.  However, it was too harsh and most often caused my skin to get very dry.  Of course I never thought the wintergreen version of rubbing alcohol was a smart choice in a household with children. I also wanted a product that was inexpensive AND without ingredients that were impossible to pronounce.

So I decided to purchase a bottle of witch hazel.  You would think I was looking for uranium when I asked the store clerk at Kroger for a bottle.  She said, "I guess it would be by the rubbing alcohol.  But I don't think we have any."  I also had to search behind a few bottles of alcohol to finally find the witch hazel bottle at CVS.  You'd think I was looking for something gone the way of the dinosaurs.  And then I thought, well maybe people like buying astringents with food coloring and ingredients they cannot pronounce - just because the bottle is pretty and/or because it is from a company with great marketing.

So now, each evening I use witch hazel to clean the dirt from my pores, and I am very happy with its astringent characteristics.  I apply it with cotton balls to my dirty face, rather than washing with soap and water.  I apply it again to tighten my skin.  Of course I always moisturize afterward.

But I definitely feel that for a small price: $4.69 for a 16oz bottle, one cannot beat witch hazel for its benefits as a toner.  It is definitely Stuff That Really Works.

The Non-Prodigal Daughter

I'm sure most people know the parable of the Prodigal Son from Luke 15:11-32.  If not, here is my interpretation:

There is a family with a father and two sons.  The youngest is a spoiled brat who keeps bugging his father to receive his inheritance before his father dies.  The father finally relents, and says, "okay, here ya go!"  The youngest son then runs off to squander his riches.  Poor and destitute the youngest son returns and his father welcomes him with open arms and provides a lavish feast.  Meanwhile, the eldest brother is upset because his father has never given anything to him (not even a goat to eat with friends).  The Father reassures his eldest son that as the eldest he will inherit what is the father's, but that it is wonderful his brother has returned.

I have always been extremely bothered by this story.  On one hand, one can view the parable father as our Father in Heaven.  When we stray he is accepting and loving when we return to his fold.  That no matter what happens our Father will love us unconditionally.  Okay, I get that.  However, what about the other son?  Nothing is ever discussed about how he deals with the return of his special brother.  It is kind of reminiscent of Jacob's son Joseph and his relationship with the other brothers.  The youngest seems to get special treatment - no matter what.

To me, the eldest son did what was right, what he was SUPPOSED to do.  He did not beg his father for his inheritance before it was due, nor did he squander the money and bring shame to his family.  He did the RIGHT thing.

This parable hits very close to home.  I have spent my life doing what is right.  I was a bit mouthy as a child, but I always practiced my piano, did my homework, and did well in school.  I changed my major to business when I was convinced that music was a "silly" choice as a career; business would be more practical.  I only smoked cigarettes when I went out with friends, and had a handful of clove cigarettes during that time as well.  I never did drugs, I never failed to pay a bill, I never even got a speeding ticket until I was in my 20s.  I graduated high school and college with honors, and taught Sunday School every Sunday morning.

Oh there were failures: my first marriage, friendships, attempts at children's books, submissions of music, etc.  But in each failure there was a life lesson, and none involved not following "the rules".  In fact, maybe I should have NOT followed the rules more often.

Recently we were hoping to refinance our home.  It was purchased in 2002 during the housing boom.  We bought a "fixer-upper" and boy did we sink money into it.  But we only purchased something within our means.  We only used Jim's income, and the improvements have been mostly cosmetic and tender loving care.  When the government was helping out people who were having problems paying their mortgages I became very frustrated.  Even when Jim was unemployed in 2003, I paid the bills.  It was a struggle, but I did it.  When the government offered options for those who never missed a payment, I was thrilled!  However, only those with mortgages 150% or less under water could qualify.  What are we?  250%!  Yeah, so that's that.

I also can't help feeling frustrated when time and time again a person can show his/her true colors, but because of the blood relation we are supposed to overlook the events and behavior and welcome said person back into the fold.  I realize that is THE RIGHT thing to do, but it is ever so frustrating.  This person did wrong, and yet we are supposed to forget and forgive and move onward.

I suppose that I am the non-prodigal daughter.  The daughter who has done pretty much everything that she was supposed to do.  I must say that there are times when I feel it would be easier to be the other daughter - wouldn't it?

Coffee Face Mask

I am a beauty product junkie.  Not really a make-up junkie, but find me a cream or mask or special product to eliminate large pours and well...I'm there!

I have been searching for high quality products that are inexpensive as well as homemade products that can take the place of buying factory made items with unhealthy ingredients.  Because of this rather unhealthy obsession, I have decided to devote a weekly (or every-other-week) blog on STUFF THAT REALLY WORKS!

My first blog is about a fantastic face mask that really provided results.  I have been unimpressed with many homemade face masks and scrubs, mostly because they leave my face feeling too dry or too oily or too blah.  I have been trying to organize my home this week - which has pretty much left a lot of stuff out (hence this lovely image):

So I noticed that I had not tried a gift from a piano student yet - Starbucks Tribute Blend beans.  My Keurig can brew your OWN blend, and I just happen to have the little device.  However, I am too lazy in the morning to grind the beans.  So I ground a bit on Monday and noticed that my whole mood changed.  I became much happier.  I had this brilliant thought - what if I made a coffee mask?  Then I had another brilliant thought - I can google recipes that other people already concocted!

I ran across a few recipes, but was smitten with a certain Crunchy gal who seemed to have her act together on homemade products.  I was certainly surprised at how my face felt while the mask was on - cool and refreshed and how I felt after the facial - ready for my day.  This is a big deal, because I woke with laryngitis and a migraine.  Even a day later my skin feels fantastic!  So I have to say this is STUFF THAT REALLY WORKS!

Here is a link to the original recipe on Crunchy Betty's blog: Mocha-Frappuccino Mask

Here is the recipe I used yesterday morning:

Coffee Mask

• 2 Tbsp freshly ground coffee
• 2 Tbsp. cocoa powder
• 3 Tbsp. plain yogurt
• 1 Tbsp. honey

Incorporate all ingredients well.  Use fingertips to cover entire face.  Relax for 15 minutes.  Get in hot shower.  Use water to loosen mask with fingertips.  Move fingertips in circular motions to get the scrub benefits of the coffee grounds.  Continue until mask is completely removed.  This could take a little while - the coffee grounds are messy.  However, this is why I removed the mask in the shower.

THINK

Well, the Summer has officially started for the Martin family.  Friday and yesterday were spent at parties and promotions, as the school year finally ended.  I must say though, I wish Zoe's dance recital was complete because then we would be free as birds.  But alas, only one more week.  I should be saying, "I think I can!"

I plan on having the ladybugs work on reading, writing and math this summer.  However, I told them they have two weeks to decompress from school.  This week we have 3 doctor appointments: orthodontist for Zoe, allergist and well visits for both.  I promised that we could incorporate other activities around the doctor visits: Jungle Java (I have two free passes), Greenfield Village, and the library.  The second week the ladybugs will attend VBS at the church attached to their school.  Even though the program is in the mornings, I will continue with the "time off" for our brains - we truly all need it (probably me most of all)!

With a Summer full of fun times ahead, I am not without concern.  The attitudes of my ladybugs have become quite challenging.  Zoe has become quite the mouthy child, and oftentimes gets in more trouble for her verbal reaction to a consequence than her initial behavior/action.  Swear words to her are: stupid, dumb and anus.*  However it isn't the words she uses but her snotty attitude that accompanies her language.  I have been dreading the summer for this reason.  However, earlier I ran across a kind of acrostic poem.  I printed it for free, and I am going to hang it and hopefully get the ladybugs to understand the importance of it.

Before You Speak Think

*One Sunday Zoe came home and proceeded to state that she learned there was an "a" word that meant butt.  Apparently an older student her her class (we have a one room Sunday School) told her and the other younger children that "butt" was not a swear word, but there was an "a" word that was a swear.  Now reader, my girls go to a school that reprimands the students for all potty words (butt included), so this was news to Zoe.  However, I immediately responded with, "Oh!  Yes, anus is the technical term for a butt hole and that must be what he meant."  Thank God for that one, because it truly made the situation a lot simpler.  

Glitter Toes

This past week has been a complete Debbie-Downer - emotionally speaking that is.  I basically feel like every area in my life is at a stand-still or worse yet: sad.

I suppose, reader, this is where I go into detail of all the depressing stuff surrounding my life.  However, I'd rather just do bullet points.  I know, that seems formal; but I really want to share without super intricate details.

1) A job I took to make a little money this summer (accompanist on June 20th) took a seriously bizarre turn.  The music director was fired.  She thought I wanted her job.  I receive 1 -3 emails per day, to which I am copied to have the information.  When said music director realized I was in fact not interested in her job, she responded with: oh, the inquiry came from a Melissa Martin not Michelle Martin.  Nice.

2) After secretly desiring the music teacher job at the Ladybugs' school, the job came available.  Within 24 hours I was told the position would be shared, and thus I needed a teaching certification.

3) My weight loss has taken a nice plateau.  I know what I need to do: exercise.  I also know what I don't want to do: exercise.

4) My spiritual life seems a bit clouded.  I know what I believe, but I am having a lot of concern about continuing to worship where we've been for the last 7 years.  **this is a topic for another blog**

5) Professionally I feel inferior.  I lack a teaching certification.  I was accused of vying for another professional's job.  And one of my vocal students, which I have only been teaching a short time AND who had the part of Amaryllis in The Music Man (did I mention she is 9?), was told by her music teacher at school that I was not teaching her correctly.  I basically feel like throwing up my hands and saying, "God - am I not in the right profession?"

The best thing I could do - even though I am feeling very down - is to paint my toes with glitter polish.  I must say that glitter toes is a nice diversion from the rest of the craziness.  I am a survivor, and I know I will pull out of this funk.  Usually my funks last a day or two - but I am confident the emotions will turn around soon.  I hope, at least.

Why is a Piece of Paper So Important?

Almost three years ago, I sat in the sanctuary at the ladybugs' school and watched a Christmas concert.  I listened to music choices from the teacher, and thought: I could do this job.  In fact, I could do a better job.  The Kindergarteners did only one selection, and yet the preschoolers did multiple songs.  The children's faces were vacant, but some had beautiful voices that stood out.  At that moment, I turned to my mom and said, "I would LOVE to do that job!"

Now, reader, I realize that is a VERY unChristian way of thinking.  But I admit I thought a job that was part-time (2 days a week) and did fun shows would be perfect for my already busy teaching and Mommy schedule. So when the music teacher position was mentioned in the school newsletter on Wednesday, my brain went "WOOT!"  It was available for fall!  What could be better?!

Okay, so reality was that this fall Evie is still only in school 3 days a week.  However, the current teacher is there two of the days Evie is in school.  That works.  But I would only have one morning a week to myself.  Not a lot of time to get things accomplished.  But this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, right?

I sent my bio and interest email to the principal, per the instructions found in the above newsletter.  My bubble was burst very quickly, when I was told the school was going to choose a candidate that could be shared with the public school.  Therefore, I would need a valid teaching certificate from the state.

I completely understand the need to follow rules, and I want the best for our school.  However, what really baffles me is that my experience and qualifications would make a new certificate holder's brain explode.  But we live in a society that gives emphasis on a degree or certification.  That piece of paper does not ensure the person is qualified to teach.

I am reminded of a time when people passed a test and were able to teach (ala Laura Ingalls Wilder), or Doctor Howard who decided to come home one day (without finishing his schooling) and set up shop as a doctor. His office is at Greenfield Village, and he was really quite a wonderful doctor.  And we ALL know who Laura is via her books and the hit TV series.  So does one with a degree (a measly piece of paper), know their field better than one who has been engrossed in the field for 10, 15, or 20 years?  I think not.

I am not pressing the issue at the school.  The principal and some other parents know my desires and my skills.  Nothing is set in stone.  But I also don't want to ruffle feathers or upset the masses.  So I will sit, quietly, and plan my fall schedule around my girls and my current teaching load.  I will focus on the blessings that I have been given, and pray that whomever is chosen to fill the vacancy will be a perfect fit.

But in all honesty I will also be praying that God will work through the decision makers and maybe, just maybe, I will have a chance to speak about the position further.