New Year, New Life?

I didn't blog but once in 2011, and looking back at the year, I'm stunned at my silence. I definitely had plenty to say, but it was one of the worst years of my life so maybe writing about it would have just put me over the edge.

The fun has spilled over into 2012. The same people doing crappy things to folks in 2010/2011 continue their antics this year, even escalating the nonsense to hurt others in our midst. I don't know why I continue to be surprised by the audacity of some, but I am.

2012 will certainly bring some changes to my family's life. Possibly even a change in location. And the thought of moving after 12 years is heartbreaking, but sometimes I think about it and I feel excited, relieved and peaceful. Like a fresh start would be better. I'll just have to wait and see.

Until then, I try to remember that despite all the mess and shenanigans, me and my family are very blessed. I have some really great friends. And what goes around comes around.

With Friends Like These, Part Deux

Still wrestling with the same issue as I wrote about in December. I don't think it's so much hate really because I don't want bad things to happen to them, but I am just so upset about a path they've taken to destroy the life of another friend. To be in the room with them is impossible to me because I just can't pretend it's not happening and be surface-social. I am incapable of that kind of BS. So this weekend when faced with fight or flight-- I fled.

And this morning I once again let the communion cup pass me by. It was too hard to swallow the symbol of forgiveness when the hand that passed it to me is the same hand gripping the knife in our Christian brother's back.

So if it's not hate I'm wrestling with then what is it? Anger? Yes. Shock? Certainly. Embarrassment? Oh yeah.

I finally put my finger on the feelings last night. I wish I could simply "unknow" them. Because knowing them has chipped away at my view of what the church is and who we are. We may not be perfect but there are lines we don't cross, if only to save face to the world. The malicious, purposeful destruction of another member of our body is one of those lines, or so I thought.

With Friends Like These...

I haven't dealt much with hate in my life until recently. Of course, there's always been folks I didn't like or didn't want to spend time with, but the kind of loathing, have to leave the room, keep you awake at night aversion-- well, that's new to me. It's been so bad, I haven't been able to write about it. It was so bad that for two or three weeks, I didn't even partake of communion at church.

A friend of mine recently said that, in your 30's, you start seeing people's true colors and many disappoint you. That's certainly been true these last couple of months.

A few Sundays ago at church, the lesson was on the Good Samaritan. The speaker made the point that often when we read the story, we compare ourselves to the Levite or the Priest who passed the beaten man on the side of the road, but what we should be realizing is we are the guy who was left for dead. Very compelling, and I agree.

But this thought plagued me then and has been plaguing me ever since: how do you deal with the people who gave their "neighbor" a beat-down, stole his money and left him to die naked in a ditch? What about those people?

Beauty is Fleeting

Aging is cruel to women. There are those occasional women who get more beautiful with age, but alas, I am not so foolish as to believe I belong in that category.

Last night I found myself on the rare trip to Wal-Mart. I was on the baking goods aisle when I spotted what I first thought were two teenage girls. They had their backs to me. One was wearing jeans, the other a dress. I noticed something seemed not quite right because the girl in the dress was wearing those really super thick hose, the kind the drill team girls used to wear. She was wearing them with open-toe shoes, but I digress.

Anyway, she turned around and VOILA! It's not a teenager but a woman probably, at best, in her late 30's (mother of the teen wearing jeans). She'd clearly had some breast work done, as I saw about 65% of her curves in the low cut neckline.

I'm the type who will ogle like a 14 year-old boy, so I had to force myself to avert my eyes. The poor men around me were really sweating! Part of me was in awe because, honestly, I envied her look if only for her ability to defy gravity. Gravity has never been a friend of mine; thank you Sir Isaac Newton. But it made me sad, too. It was like she was trying to look as young as her daughter. Yet in doing so, she only made herself look older.

But I get it. Every year, it takes a little more makeup, a little more hair color and a LOT more underwear to just maintain my look. Meanwhile, my husband can be seven years older, gain a little weight and sport a head full of gray hair but he becomes more attractive. Especially if he puts on a suit. No spanx for him.

Maybe I am shallow, but to be perfectly honest, this makes me unbelievably sad.

A Year of Silence

Every few weeks or so I think, "I should blog about that." And then I don't. Weeks turn into months and here we are almost a year later. Wow.

So, where have I been in 2010? Let's see, having a mid life crisis takes quite a bit of time. Unfortunately, it's only lead to lots of questioning inside my head instead of manifesting itself in a little fast sports car. Were it only that simple.

Alas, I'm going to try to start writing again. I feel like I am heard when I write - even if no one reads it.

Devilish Details

Life has been too much to handle lately. Too intense to even blog about it because then I'd have to reflect on the craziness even more. But here's a bit of an update:

Pregnant teen gave birth. She went into labor at 3 a.m. at my house a few weeks ago. After all was said and done, she decided to "keep the baby for a while and give it a try," the worst decision of her life until this point. Some will disagree, saying if you ever have any doubt you should keep your baby. Well, I've been on the inside track of this gal's life for the last decade. Her family does not love her. Sporadic affection, maybe. But love? No.

Case in point: twelve hours before she went into labor, her sister kicked her out of the house with all her stuff in bags and left her standing in the rain. That's why she was at my house when the contractions started.

There's so much to the story--too much to put here. What amazed me was all of the family that came out of the woodwork during the delivery. Where have they been for the last 9 months? Baby daddy showed up too. It was very dramatic. Sources tell me the night after the birth, teen and BD were spooned up in the bed. I guess he'll be spooning the other gal he also inpregnated here in a month or so.

I never really believed she would give her baby up for adoption. Girls like her don't do that very often because deep down they hope maybe their baby will provide the love they've been denied their entire life. For a few hours, teen finally had the attention of her family. I'm sure in a few weeks the newness will wear off and she'll be left standing out in the rain, this time with a baby on her hip, no money, no job, no prospects. And yes, she'll suffer. But this baby boy will suffer the most. I grieve the life he could've had with a family who would've loved him.

Where was God in all this? I don't know. Lots of optimistic folks spew feel-good clichés, but having been in the trenches on this one, I'm calling BS. God was the sweet Mennonite family ready to take that baby home. The devil was in the details. Generational details like drug abuse, selfishness, irresponsibilty, bad parenting and a lack of love. God may win in the end, but the evil one sure takes his share on Earth.

An Exercise in Futility

I once wrote a paper with the above title-- and it was the final for my bassoon class. Life's gotten more complicated since college.

We moved here nine years ago. I was 23, naive and good-hearted. I thought it might be nice to volunteer. And so I became a "mentor" with the public school system. During my time as a mentor, I became acquainted with three young girls. With two of them I am still in touch -- one, our relationship only lasted for a year or two but oddly enough, I ran into her last week at the grocery store. She had a job there. We spoke pleasantries to one another and that was that.

The two with whom I am still in contact both dropped out of high school, one has had a baby and the other is currently pregnant. The currently pregnant teen comes from, at best, a tulmultuous (dare I say crazy?) and non-supportive family situation.

This week, I've been helping her navigate the system so that she can get in to see a doctor. DHS smells like hopelessness and despair.

I don't know if I really have a point here, except the effort feels useless. And I'm not saying I regret it or that I want to ditch the relationships. I guess what I am saying is that I see how critical good parenting really is. I've spent countless hours and dollars on these girls, and the net result was still the same because they went home every night to a situation of drugs or abuse or ambivalence.

Thus the cycle continues, unless this generation decides to give her baby a better life through adoption. I'm scared to even be optimistic for fear of jinxing the whole thing.