to wed or not to wed

"You know, Daphne, it would be so cool if you got ordained to officiate weddings..."

I have been thinking about this recommendation.

It has been suggested numerous times.

In some ways it makes a lot of sense since I already do the premarital counseling.

In some ways it is just one more thing.

I think it would be pretty fantastic to be able to officiate weddings.

{whether I did the premarital work with a couple or not}

But I also have this underlying thing about who "should" officiate weddings.

And I think about all of my friends who are ministers and weddings are one of the "things" they do.

And isn't marriage sacred?

But, would being ordained outside of a particular denomination allow me to officiate same-sex weddings?  Is it worth being someone who could officiate weddings, honoring the sacred, for persons who otherwise may have hang-ups about the religious overtones of marriage in a church?

The actual cost of license is not that much.

But is the benefit worth it?

the habit of making good friends

today i drove home after lunch with a friend and i thought to myself:

i hope i will always maintain the habit of making good friends 

&

i hope our kids will learn the habit of making good friends

&

i hope our kids will learn the skills of being a good friend

because 

good friends make the joys in life more joyful

&

the sad, dumpy parts of life more bearable

&

the ordinary-ness of life more extraordinary

today i drove home from lunch with a friend and i thought to myself:

i am so very thankful for good friends.

love: requited

Every year my heart gets a little green with envy when I hear how a friend's husband celebrates her birthday.  It is a whole week of birthday celebration with a pile of little wrapped gifts for her to open, special time with friends, and usually a delicious something-or-other prepared in her honor.

Every year I am excited for her.

And a little green.

Every year I wish that my husband whom I love, {a lot} didn't have such anxiety about gift giving. 

I wish he had more confidence about it. 

I wish he enjoyed celebrations.

{he honestly doesn't care if someone celebrates his birthday or his anniversary or holidays and does not care about receiving gifts}

I wish his way of expressing love went beyond:

 doing laundry, caring for children, cleaning toilets, grocery shopping, or making dinner.  

{acts I for which I hold genuine appreciation. but they are, for me, part of being partners & don't extend past the ordinary tasks of life}

I wish he didn't default into long-ass deliberations about purchasing things.  

{because I like receiving things...with spontaneity, accompanied by a birthday or not}

This difference between us has been the source of many hours of discussion {maybe tears were involved}

And played a supporting role in our almost-divorce many Christmases ago.

But this year, for my birthday, he made a plan.

He was secretive and thoughtful and anxious.

His plan did not work out exactly as he had conceived

{but} 

It included a week's worth of out-of-the-ordinary considerations, gifts, and deliciousness.

{and}

I felt loved and celebrated.

old-fashioned goodness

killer barbeque veal ribs and chicken

 

 

grill-steamed greens & sweet potatoes {w/ cumin, crushed pepper & lime}

 

 

 

NPR makes life complicated

 Sometimes listening to NPR in the car with children makes life more complicated.

Like this week when the coverage lingers over 

a white man killing a black teenager in a hoodie 

and the 

national debate over health care.

I mean, really - how do you respond to these questions and considerations?

"Why are some people afraid of black people?"

"I have health insurance, right? Will judges take that away?"

 

"Do you think if we live a little longer and get farther from the civil rights era that we might start to feel more even about black people and white people?"

"Do you sometimes make decisions about whether to buy groceries or to buy health insurance?" 

"I wear hoodies...do you think it makes people afraid of me...will someone accidentally shoot me?"

"You know, it would be okay if the government told me to eat broccoli...I eat it all the time anyway." 

"I hope those families will be okay...it would be so sad to have your son shot and dead...you would be sad if someone shot me, wouldn't you?"

This week I have talked about more about 

{racism and prejudice}{equality and basic human rights}{the role of government and the Supreme Court} 

{what makes me nervous about this next election} 

with my 8 year-old than I have with my friends or family.  

His questions and considerations have required me to don my most thoughtful hats and offer responses that are as objective as possible in an attempt to provide the best platform for him to manage his own conclusions. 

It is difficult and complicated.  

I would love for him to espouse what I believe and yet, 

I remain fervent in my goal to be a parent who is able to offer our kids the:

Most complete information I can about the world around them  

{and}

Space to consider that information within their developmental framework  

{and}

Opportunity to reflect back what they are hearing or putting together  

{and}

Flexibility to consider perspectives outside one's comfort zone  

{and}

Encouragement to wade into the gray matter 

{because}

 

Life is not so black and white.

No matter how much we might wish {or pretend} it is so.

And the future of our nation depends on our ability to think critically 

 {about} 

the issues that reside in the space between the black and white.

{gray}

death sucks

My conclusion after working last week was this:

Death sucks.

Anyone who tells you otherwise is a fool.

Death does not make sense.

Except sometimes.

But mostly not.

And, no matter what we tell ourselves,  God does not make it "all better."

We do take comfort in putting God in the middle of death.

We believe in a narrative that God has a plan.

We believe that God will provide us patience and courage.

We believe that God will be with us in our mourning and our grief.

And sometimes it feels like all those things are true.

And sometimes it feels like our belief is myth.

but
Belief is important.

Faith in the power and presence of a god gets us through.

However, at the end of the day -

death {still} sucks

because we {still} have a hole where someone used to be.