Life gets in the way...

Well so much for those goals I set for myself in January. They are unraveling, but I am not completely surprised. The biggest one is my goal of finishing school by August. I hate doing it, but I must accept that I will most likely not be able to complete my thesis and defend it by August. So I will graduate in December. Still I hope to be finished with everything well before then. The process is much more complicated that it was for my last thesis and there are too many points where I could get held up by other people. I am disappointed though.

As for my other goals, I have yet to write my grandmother, but I did send her flowers yesterday for her birthday. That is almost as good, but I will still write her. I have yet to lose any significant amount of weight, start running, or even post to my blog as often as I said I would. On that last point however I have been posting to blogs, just not this one. I have another blog I have to post on for a class and I also did a blog post for the Virginia Historical Society. In an odd way I am sort of doing better than anticipated for that goal.

It is good to have goals and I will still do my best to accomplish these. I just need to remember that sometimes life gets in the way I may have to make a few detours before I arrive at my destination. Overall things are good and for that I am glad.

Daddy's hands

     Over the holidays I attended the funeral service for one of my dear friend's father. He passed on Christmas day which was terribly sad. When she gave the eulogy though she said that only "very special people get to go to heaven on Christmas day." I really wish that she and her family did not have to go through that pain, but we will all go through it at some point. My heart, my thoughts, and my prayers will continue to go out to her as I know it will be awhile before life feels normal again.

     I was deeply moved by the memories she had of her father and it brought back some of my own. My dad died 12 years ago today. My friend talked about her father's hands and how they were the hands of a working man. I too think about my dad's hands. He was a farmer and a carpenter. He had big, strong, rough hands. Sometimes he had cuts or a blackened fingernail. They were often stained with iodine which he put on any wound. I loved those hands. He used to them to work, to build and create things as big as a house or as small as a doll cradle. He used those hands to rub a little girl's tummy when it hurt or massage out a leg cramp. He waved those hands around when he was talking. He used those hands to ride a horse, drive a tractor, shoot a gun, pet a dog, grade tobacco, fix a car, tickle his daughter, swing a hammer, chop wood, and pat his sons on the back or grab them by the scruff of the neck (whichever they deserved more). He used those hands to pick wildflowers for his wife and to help a friend in need. Those were marvelous hands, talented hands. Those hands built my loft bed and pulled me into a hug when I left for college. Those hands gave mine a squeeze to calm me as he walked me down the aisle the day I got married. I really miss those hands.

     Holly Dunn sang a song called "Daddy's Hands." The chorus goes like this:

Daddy's hands were soft and kind when I was cryin'

Daddy' hands were hard as steel when I'd done wrong

Daddy's hands weren't always gentle but I've come to understand

There was always love in daddy's hands.

     Those words sum up my dad's hands and I suspect the hands of many other fathers. If your father is still with you use your hands to give him a call or a hug. If he is not then use your hands to honor him by helping someone else. 

Love you daddy.

Hello 2013

So it is 2013 and I did not write a single post last year. I meant to, but of course I never quite got around to it. In a nut shell I was busy: school, MARAC, travel, and other obligations. I did manage to write a few entries in my paper journal when I was in Germany, but that was it. Since it is a new year and resolution time I thought I would set some goals for myself. Some should be easily obtainable and others not so much, but it will give me something to check out at the end of the year.

1. Write two blog posts a month.
2. Write a letter to my grandmother once a month.
3. Lose 50 pounds by the end of the year (this is a hard one).
4. Run a half marathon in Las Vegas in December 2013 (another hard one).
5. Get up at 7:00 am during the week (the hardest one of all for me).
6. Do the dishes every day.
7. Finish school by August (meaning get my thesis done).

I have some others, but I do believe this is plenty. Honestly I am good at setting goals, but not so good and seeing them through. The things I have to do I will, but things that focus on me are harder for me to reach.   These are actually tied together in some ways so maybe they will not be as hard as they seem. If I get up earlier then I will have more time to do things like exercise. I need to lose weight and training for a half marathon seems like a good way to reach my goal. I have run a half marathon before so I know I can do it. I am not exactly setting myself up for failure. I suppose come January 2014 I will see how I did. :Let the games begin!

Feeling better

After yesterday's post, I actually feel better. I think I just needed to articulate my feelings instead of having it as this vague, slightly unsettling notion rattling around in my head. Life is a journey and full of conflict. Without conflict life would be dull. I need to wrestle with these questions and feelings. It may take me a lifetime to figure it all out and I may never know the answers, but at least I will not have given up. Maybe I will even go to church this Sunday...assuming I can get my lazy arse out of bed.

Losing my religion

My apologies Mr. Stipe, I know you did not mean losing my religion literally, but I do. I find myself questioning my faith, or what little I have left daily. For someone who is unsure what to believe about God anymore, I spend an awful lot of time thinking about him/her. First I  must say I whole heartily endorse the teachings of Jesus. No matter how you feel about his divinity or religion in general, his teachings are a sound basis for anyone to build a life upon. I have never been a great lover of organized religion even though I have been a member of a Baptist church and the United Methodist Church. I was baptized at age 12 in a river behind the little church I attended as a child. While it was a very moving experience, I sometimes think I did it out of fear more than love. I feared what would happen to my soul if I died unbaptized, not necessarily out of a need to be born anew in God's love. Heavy stuff for a 12 year old. I always had an overactive imagination.

When I was younger than that I used to worry about what would happen if the Rapture happened and I was separated from my family. I don't even know how I got all these ideas in my head as my parents certainly did not put them there. Both were religious in there own way, but did not attend church. They tried to teach us kids that God was good and looking out for us. Some of my ideas came from the first church I attended as a small  child. It was a crazy little church just up the road from our house that my brothers and I sometimes attended. The pastor, who coincidentally was my school bus driver, was a sing-song, foaming-at-the-mouth, are-you-going-to-hell-or-heaven-if-you-die-tonight kind of minister. He was always hoarse because he yelled so much during his sermon. Needless to say at four years old being told that you are going to hell because you are a miserable sinner does make a wee bit of an impression. I did not tell my mom about this until I was an adult.

I have always felt that there must be something bigger out there. Something or someone who created all the magnificence I see on a daily basis. Our world, our bodies are some kind of miracle. Even so I have had a difficult time feeling that the God I have been told about all my life is the responsible party. There are so many things in the Bible that do not make sense to me. There is also the cliche, but no less relevant, thought of why do bad things happen to good people? There is war, famine, sickness, cruelty, and wanton destruction in our world. There are people who claim to be God-fearing, good people and yet they discriminate against and scorn others because they dare to love someone of the same sex, or because they had a baby out of wedlock or believe the world is older than 6,000 years. Christianity is supposes to be about tolerance, love, and compassion, but expressing such views in the eyes of some makes you some kind of raving liberal, socialist hippie. I do not think there is anything wrong with being a liberal, socialist, or hippie (except for dirty hippies, take a bath already!). I use to go to church regularly, but I have not been in months. I feel like a hypocrite walking through the doors. How can I worship God if I am not sure God exists?

I am confused and adrift. I see my friends posting things they are thankful for on Facebook and I am happy they have so many things to be thankful for. I have many great things in my life too, but I also feel a bit empty. I want to have faith, to believe, but in what? I still pray, but it feels hypocritical. I think it is healthy to question your faith and what you believe. No one should ever follow anything blindly. I try to console myself with the thought that I am not the first person to have these thoughts and I certainly will not be the last. I wish though I could a glimmer of light, something to hold on to that lets me know I do not walk through this life alone. I have family and friends who love and support me and that certainly helps. Perhaps they should be my religion. I will keep seeking, asking questions, and maybe I will find some answers, some peace. If I do I will put it out to the ether in hopes that some other lost soul finds it too.

Earthquake!

Since I never post as often I as I mean to or when there is news I decided to break the trend today. About an hour and half ago we had an earthquake here in Virginia. It was a 5.9 and is the biggest quake since 1897 here in VA. The epicenter was in Mineral, VA.  It was felt as far south as NC and as far north as Canada. In the grand scheme of things it is not that large of a quake, but it so rarely happens on the east coast. It is also crazy that it was felt over such a wide area.

I am at work in the library and thought at first something had burst in the basement. It was clear after a few seconds that it was more than that. I stayed in the doorway until it was over. It lasted about 30 seconds. A check of the archives and special collections revealed that everything stayed on the shelves. We only found a single journal that had fallen off a shelf. That is really good news. Now I just hope everything is ok at home and that the dog is not seriously traumatized!

Hotter than the sixth shades of hell!

I have uttered this phrase on occasion without really thinking about it. That is until someone said they had never heard it before, which made me wonder where I had heard it. I grew up hearing it said on especially hot days, but I cannot track it back to one person. I know that it refers to the 6th circle of hell in Dante's Inferno, but it has been years since I read it and I do not remember what that level was.  After a little research I found that this circle contains the City of Dis. On the plain outside the city are red hot iron tombs where the heretics dwell. These shades will never know respite from the flames.  Knowing that nugget of information I understand how the phrase came into use.

Since the heat index will be between 110-115 degrees, I think saying it is hotter than the sixth shades of hell is entirely appropriate today. All I can say is thank God for AC and don't forget to water you maters, pets, and old people! Seriously folks stay cool!