My Good Stuff

This morning John the Methodist posted some videos of songs he liked from his oh-so-recent youth. Willie Deuel and Theresa Coleman ably followed suit. Here's my contribution:

Please note that I was very young when this came out. But it's still one of my favorites.

From my high school years.

Another favorite.

This rendition is almost from before my time but I came to love this song during my youth.

Hope you enjoy these.

The Texas Baby Purchasing Act of 2007

When I read this item on Talk To Action my blood pressure shot up several points.

The gist is this: A dazzlingly crass Texas Senator named Dan Patrick has come up with a proposal to pay $500.00 to mothers who will give up their babies for adoption within sixty days of birth. That is, if they are "qualified". What these qualifications might be is not mentioned. Sounds like baby selling doesn't it? Except that the proposal includes a line saying that the law against baby selling doesn't apply here. In other words, it's not baby selling because we say it isn't.

The idea behind this bill is to prevent women from having abortions. I'm all for that. But I still want to find Sen. Patrick and kick him where it will do the most good.

Why, you ask? While there are many things to hate about this bill, two scream out at me at the moment.

First, if this is such a good idea, why not more attractive to wealthier women? After all, many middle-class women have abortions because having children would limit their career opportunities, because they want children, or for a host of other reasons. How about a $500.00 tax break? Or a donation to her favorite charity? "Help Save the Children and get rid of your own unwanted child at the same time! What a deal!" Or are we saying that if your poor it's okay to sell your child but if you're rich, you're above that? In any case, it's an insult.

Second, and more important there is the part of the proposal that says the woman must be "qualified" to get the $500.00. It's one thing to abort a fetus you hardly know is there. Quite another to give up forever a living, breathing child you can hold in your arms. If this thing becomes law there will be mothers tearing out their hearts, perhaps hoping to use the $500.00 to help feed other children, only to find out they're not qualified because their child is too black, or too Mexican, or too handicapped for the state to consider adoptable. No child, and nothing else either. I can't think of a word ugly enough to describe that.

You really need to get the full impact of this thing, so go over there and read it for yourself. Let's hope this proposal winds up in the shredder where it belongs.

Two New Resolutions

I've made a couple of resolutions today. One is I'm going to blog more (every day if possible). I mean it this time. It's always been really difficult for me to gather my thoughts and organize them in a coherent fashion. But I think that from now on it will be more important for me to get express my thoughts, for my mental and spiritual health.

Which brings me to the second resolution. I am a member of a Methodist Church. I believe this is where God wants me, so I must, with God's help, adapt myself both spiritually and emotionally to be a Methodist.

This is going to be very difficult for me. Not because of anything wrong Methodism. My church is by far the most loving and the most nurturing of any I have ever attended. The problem is me.

To make a long story a little shorter, I was raised a Catholic. I was taught to have an open, inquiring mind, which always put me a bit at odds with the more authoritarian aspects of the Church. As a young adult I was religiously conservative , politically moderate but somewhat liberal on social issues.

Then I married. I moved to a small town. Starting out, our life looked promising from a financial point of view. Then he became disabled. All my life I had cherished a number of comfortable middle-class ideas about how the poor brought it on themselves. How they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps, and be grateful for any help they could get. And, finally, so terrible to me now I can hardly write it, how poor women, and even couples, should give up for adoption any children they can't support for adoption. All of this vanished amidst the hell of being poor in Texas.

I've never been able to compartmentalize my religious views, to put them in their own little box away from my life experience. For me, my life and my spirituality are one. So as my political and social views became more liberal, so did my religious views. (I could go into more detail here, but I'll save it for later).

Upon moving to Texas, I started looking for a church. The search was long. We tried the Catholic Church, but the rigidity plus the inconsistencies and hypocrisies that annoyed me proved unbearable to my non-Catholic husband. I wanted a church that would have the things I loved about the Catholic Church, but that my family could love as well. We attended an Episcopal Church. It had nearly everything I loved about the Catholic Church, especially the weekly Eucharist, which I had missed intensely. But it was much more relaxed and democratic. I fell in love. But it was simply to far away for us to attend with any regularity. We couldn't afford the gas. The bottom line was I had to find a church in town.

In this town there numerous churches, but only one mainline Protestant church. That's the Methodist church. There's one Assembly of God. The rest are Southern Baptist, and many other churches that are even more conservative. Some much more so.

I attended a couple of Southern Baptist Churches. I'm too liberal now to fit in there, but I tried anyway. My daughter had problems with the competitive nature of AWANA, the Southern Baptist youth program.

Now we've joined the Methodist Church. My kids both love it. I miss the liturgy, the bells and smells, and, most of all, the Eucharist. We celebrate the Lord's Supper monthly, but it's not the same.

But there is much Historically the UMC has had a great emphasis on social action, less on doctrine. As I read it my heart cries, this is what a church should be. From what I see in the Bible, arguments about whether gays should be married or be ordained is not where God's heart is. His heart is in His poor. We should bring people to Christ not by hounding them into submission with threats of hellfire but by showing them His boundless love. This is how we are to win the world for Christ.

Unfortunately the UMC is largely lost its focus. There is a move underway to make Methodism more conservative. They want more literal, fundamentalist interpretation of Scripture. This worries me. I'm afraid they will turn the UMC into something like Southern Baptist Lite, only without preachers yelling their sermons.

I pray that the UMC will once again be the church that cares about all of God's people, struggling for justice and peace. The world needs this kind of Christian witness. I need it too. And I need to be part of it.

If you are inclined towards prayer please pray that God will help me follow His will in the church and life situation into which I find myself. And that I will be humble enough to listen. I thank you, Lord, for your wonderful care for me and for my family. Please keep up in Your Love and in Your Will. Amen.

post-methodist: boys to men

In this post Jason Woolever comments approvingly on Raising A Modern-Day Knight by Robert Lewis. I haven't read the book, but here's what Jason says:

Lewis and some friends made the observation that modern culture doesn't have a right of passage into manhood. He offers some ideas for how men can help their sons transition into adulthood with meaningful ceremonies (such as having godly men gather to encourage them and pray over them... nothing too far out).

He also says that young men need a biblical vision for authentic manhood. He builds it on Scripture. Here's a list of his "Manhood Principles" without explanation.

A real man...
#1 - rejects passivity
#2 - accepts responsibility
#3 - leads courageously
#4 - expects the greater reward...God's reward.

Read the book for a thorough explanation of these principles and why they are so important. I recommend it to every man who has a son.

It does sound like some very good principles. But isn't it just as important for my daughter to be strong and courageous as it is for my son? Why can't we get rid of this "men should be strong, women should be passive" mentality and just raise good Christian children?

Wild Child of Grace

I'm ailing again, so please forgive me if this post isn't as coherent as it should be. I simply can't seem to stay well these days.

Yesterday my son, E., and my daughter, A., were in the children's Christmas production at our church. E. had a speaking role and performed it beautifully. A. was in the chorus.

In the past, A. has had problems with speech development, his temper and paying attention. He has improved greatly in the past year, but still has occasional flareups. So I was a little concerned about how he would do in the show.

On Saturday, at the next-to-last practice, he was perfect. So I started to relax. Too soon. On Sunday E. had the squirmies.

The Children's Minister had directed everyone to stand still and keep their eyes on the audience. This was lost on E. He sat down. He stood up. He watched himself on the screen next to the altar. He looked everywhere but in front.

I really started to worry when he noticed the scenery behind him. A flat piece of wood with a musical score on it started to shake. I began to envision what would happen when it fell.

I was embarrassed, but I love my son, and I know the other church members love him too. They proved that when he was hospitalized two months ago.

Then something struck me. It was one of those little moments of grace that happen to us from time to time. I thought to myself, the nice, easy-going people of the world seldom oppose the entire religious, political and social structure. Jesus never sinned, of course, but the strength of character he showed must have come from somewhere. Maybe, just maybe Mary had a few moments like this with Jesus.

Everything worked out. The backdrop didn't fall, and both children received many compliments. Before the next church production I'll have a talk with E. about standing still and looking at the audience. But in the meantime I'm going to cherish this child of grace. Grace that is sometimes difficult to receive, but grace nonetheless.

I'm Back...For Now

As anyone can see, I haven't been blogging in awhile. I've been sickly a bit recently, and I've been reading and thinking a good deal about the Methodist Church and Christianity in general. I've been very much wanting to write about that. But because of the way my brain is wired, I have difficulty gathering my thoughts together into a coherent whole. I want my writing to be precise, well-organized and interesting, but I can't figure out how to do it. And the effort is time-consuming and painful.

But I need the discipline of writing. I need to put those words together, difficult though it is, if only to work out for myself what I believe.

So here we go again.

My Catholic Guilt Vs. Murder

I just read this article on an upsetting film about a pedophile priest and the seemingly indifferent bishops who covered for him and allowed him to molest more boys. Besides making me angry at the Bishops and the hierarchy in general, it reminded me of an unresolved conflict in my own life.

I was raised a Catholic. My mother was more tolerant of other faiths than many Catholics of that time, but still she often expressed fears that I would leave the Church and thus be locked out of Heaven forever. She passed away several years ago. Since then I have, indeed, left the Catholic Church. While I never believed the part about apostate Catholics going to Hell, I still feel guilty about leaving, and worse, raising my mother's grandchildren as Protestants.

But really, I can't raise them as Catholics, for three reasons. One is, we live in the Bible Belt. The nearest Catholic church is so far away that attending every week, or even every month, would be impossible. Even if my children were Catholic they would barely be aware of it. We can't afford to move.

Then there is my dear, beloved husband. He was raised a Southern Baptist, and loves their energetic sermon style. He thinks of hearing Mass as something like getting anesthetized for major surgery, only in big, hard chairs. I could not count on his support in prying the kids out of bed for church.

As a Catholic I knew a number of priests. I know how the celibacy rule tends to winnow out straight men, at least those with a healthy attitude toward women. I have seen how the priesthood is attractive to some young homosexual men. They are attracted for many reasons, but some think that as a priest they will be given the strength not to practice their sexuality. They see the priesthood as the only way for them to be in a state of grace with the Church and thus with God. When the temptations multiply but the strength never comes it's not surprising that some become twisted into pedophiles.

So here's my third reason. The real clincher. We have a young son. He's very handsome, even if I say so myself. Given what I know about the pressures of the priesthood I would feel compelled, in the spirit of fairness, there is something I would have to say to the priest before I joined the church. It would be along the lines of, "If you have any tendancy toward pedophilia, please leave this parish now. I'm considering joining. If my husband finds out you're even thinking of molesting our son he will likely kill you. And, God help me, I'm not sure I'd want to stop him." But how in the world could I say that? and how could I not?

Cameras on Ambulances

Last week was rough for my family. My son fell sick and had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance. Thankfully all turned out well and apparently he wasn't seriously ill. But riding in the ambulance gave me a new perspective on unthoughtful drivers.

The ambulance was running with sirens and lights, but many drivers refused to pull over. They just stayed in front of the ambulance, slowing us down. I oculd understand if heavy traffic had blocked the right lane. But this was quite early, before the moring rush, and it would have been easy to move to the right lane and pull over. It was bad enough. What if my son had been more ill, and died because these drivers kept him from getting to the hospital in time? I'm sure it's happened more than once to others.

Obviously too many people care more about getting to their destination on time more than they care about the welfare of others. So let's do something about it. Let's install a camera on each ambulance, like the ones police cars have. Run these while the ambulance moves, but set up the camera so that if the ambulance is blocked by a car the camera will focus on the car's licence plate. Photos of the car, and the plate, could then be transmitted to any police in the vicinity, who would give the ambulance time to move on then find the driver and present him with an expensive ticket.

I realize this would be one more job for our already overburdened police. But hopefully just knowing that they're being watched, and that a considerable fine awaits would make some people take a few seconds to pull over. And something needs to be done. No matter where the driver is going, even if his job is on the line, it's not worth a human life. Especially the life of a child.

The Devil and President Bush

I don't care for the Bush administration or many of its policies. But I have to agree with them about President Chavez's speech in which he called President Bush "el diablo" - the devil. The devil is the ultimate purveyor of evil, the "lion who seeks whomever he may devour". Even Bush's most hateful opponents wouldn't give him that. Also, as the opposite number of St. Michael, the chief of the angelic armies, the devil would be strong and clever, a most formidable foe. Surely he'd never invade Iraq without some kind of exit strategy. It's just too silly for a serious response.

As for Chavez's other accusations, whether Bush is a "liar" or a "tyrant" is still being widely discussed. I have my own opinions, but for now I'll leave it up to others.

Saudis Consider Banning Women From Mecca Prayers

For awhile now I've been curious as to why a woman would ever become a Muslim. From what I've read on the internet and elsewhere, evidently it happens, even to intelligent women. But unless the woman involved was brainwashed or had absymal self-esteem, I've never been able to understand it. Items such as this one don't help.

It seems that officials in Saudi Arabia are considering banning women from saying prayers near Islam's most sacred shrine in Mecca. Some people say women are already being kept away. Women already have few rights in this country. They aren't allowed to drive. They have to get permission from a man just to get a job, travel or stay at a hotel. But the religious authorities behind this thing claim it's just an effort to ease chronic overcrowding, which causes dangerous riots.

If this is the case, why target just women? Since women are barely allowed to leave the house in this country, most of those making up the crowds must be men. So why not just set up remote prayer sites and allow no more than a certain number of the faithful to pray at each site? This could disperse the crowds over a larger area, perhaps for miles if necessary. Of course this would take them a distance from the Grand Mosque. But surely if the leading imams said this was okay that would be good enough for most pilgrims.

In the article it's implied that they want to do it because they're afraid that the sight of a woman praying will cause the men to riot. As one woman countered

"Women are not all young beauties that rush to the mosque with an aim of seducing men," wrote one woman, Aziza al-Manie, in the country's Okaz daily.

"Among female visitors are the ill, the old, tormented widows, the handicapped and disabled, and the ones with problems desperately wanting God's help and mercy," she wrote, according to a translation in Arab News.

So first we have the burqas, then restrictions, and now this. The implication seems to be that Arab men are such horney so-and-sos that the sight of a woman, any woman, drives them insane with lust. Maybe I'm naive, but I just don't believe that.

The authorities are saying that although the women's areas would be further back they would be much larger and have a better view of the shrine. When I read that I keep hearing in my mind "Why yes, we only let them ride in the back of the bus. But it's really nice there."

True, this is only in one country. But Saudi Arabia is an Islamic state, ruled by sharia. So it's a good example of the Islamic mindset. Historian Hatoon al-Fassi says it probably won't happen because the rest of the Muslim world should make the decision, not just Saudi Arabia. And a group of Muslim women writers are sponsoring a petition against it. So hopefully the more moderate will prevail.

Meanwhile my quest to find out why a woman would want to be a Muslim continues...

Musings on Women in the Pulpit

Yesterday a family friend invited us to a service at the church to which she belongs - the only Assembly of God church in town. We accepted. It was nothing definite, just "Sometime we'll try to go". I think we'll try to make an evening service some Sunday.

Our children are young and impressionable, so I had to make sure this church would be suitably in line with our family's beliefs. So as soon as I could I checked out the Assemblies of God website. What was most important? The views of the church on Scripture? A biggie, but I already had a pretty good idea of that, so I skipped it. The church's views on sexual morality? No. The first thing I looked at was the one great, make-or-break issue (well, almost): Do the Assemblies of God ordain women to the pastoral ministry?

Is womens' ordination really that important? Well, yes.
But it wasn't always this way. My mother, a devoted Catholic, was almost violently against the idea of women priests. Since Catholic doctrine teaches that the priest is alter Christi another Christ, a female priest was, to her, to make God into a goddess.

I really didn't care. I felt no calling to the ministry. I once told my mother, "I can't see why a woman would want to be a priest. Nor why a man would, either." With little human companionship and almost no time to himself, only parishioners who were never happy no matter what he did, a priest had to be an insatible masochist.

The young seminarians I met did not improve my view of the priesthood. Most were young gay men trying to escape their sexuality and be pleasing to God.

I loved the Catholic Church, and I read everything I could find. As I grew and learned, I came to see that as a Catholic woman I would always be a second-class citizen. I could teach canon law (if the Pope of the time would allow) but I could never write canon law. No matter how I studied or how much ability I possessed I would never be anything but a layperson, the lowest form of life in the Church. I could serve in an advisory capacity as a parish council member but the priest would always be the boss. Even a deacon has imput at the parish level. Even if God were to bless me with the blueprint to reform the Church, I could only pray that He would give this idea to a man.

Later I left the Catholic Church. My reasons were many but women's ordination wasn't one of them. For a time I attended an Episcopal church. This was the first time I actually saw a woman in the pulpit.

I recently read a blog in which the blogger wrote that he saw many women preachers, but seldom a good one. My experience was the opposite. The few times I saw a woman at the altar I expected something extraordinary, and I was never disappointed.

The Episcopal church is still my first love, and I miss it terribly. But I live in a small Texas town, and the nearest one is fifteen miles away, too far to afford the drive. The Methodist church is one of the few un-Southern-Baptist churches around, so we attend that. The minister is a man. The minister is a man. I've never seen a woman minister here. I'm not sure the most conservative members wouldn't stone her. But I can dream.

Most of all I want a church where my daughter won't feel silenced and unworthy, like some other women I've known. If she never feels a call to the ministry, that's fine. But if she should, I want her to be able to follow wherever God takes her. I want her to be a first-class citizen in the Kingdom of God.

Knitting and Everything Else

Trying to write about Asperger's Syndrome and other things that irritate me hasn't been working. It's just too dark, depressing and...irritating. So I'm going to try writing about things I enjoy...at least sometimes. One thing I enjoy presently is knitting, so I'll be writing quite a bit about that. I'll still be writing about Asperger's, politics and many other things. All of it is part of me and it's not going away.
But this is part of me too. So let's run it up and see what happens.

Here is my main knitting project at the moment.

Hopefully it will one day be a sock for my husband. It's big, but so is his foot. And he likes a loose fit. I'm knitting it on a size 1 cable needle using the Magic Loop method. The yarn is Cascade Fixation. I've read about Fixation almost being sock yarn heaven but this is the first time I've tried it. So far I'm really enjoying it. The stretch makes it quick and easy to knit. Also, it's more forgiving of my uneven stitches.

My knitting is loopy, just like me. Today I was watching a commercial for an upcoming movie. Three people are in a car. They're being stopped by police when the driver yells "Pretend you're normal!" He must know me.

Once Again...I'm Gonna Do This Thing

I'm saying it again. I'm going to start blogging regularly.

This time I'll really try to stick with it. Of course I will. Just like I did the last time. It's difficult for me to write. Actually, it's emotionally painful. I'm a perfectionist gone off the rails. I constantly fight a compulsion to go back...to constantly proofread and re-do. Of course this would improve my writing, but if I give in I'll never get anything written at all.

I'm not "normal" and I never will be. But I still need to express myself even as though I were normal. Here I can gather my thoughts and parcel them out as clearly and as well as I can.

Once again, welcome to all..to anyone who wants to share the journey.

A Bit of the Aspie Life

For a long time I've wanted to update this blog. For one reason or another it just didn't take. Once I lost an entry when I couldn't connect to Blogger. Just as well, really. It's now floating somewhere in cyberspace, alone and lost, like the orphan it deserves to be.

Often, though, I've had a thought and just been too tired to do anything with it. Partly it's because I have hay fever. But mostly it's because I have Asperger's Syndrome.

Asperger's can be a rotten thing. In one way or another, it touches everything in my life. Like this blog. Should I write or should I not? What can I write about? Is my topic suitable? What makes a suitable topic? Is my writing good enough? Will anybody read this? I'm sure all bloggers have these thoughts, more or less. But they don't agonize over it constantly, for hours.

And it's not just my blog. I can have a crisis about anything. Should I wash the dishes now, or later? Will I do it well enough? What if the dishwasher leaks again?

Jobs outside the home are just the same. I constantly analyze my own performance and wonder if it's good enough. This all sounds very self-centered, but it's not. I don't, can't see the world, or myself, the way "normal" persons do. I've always felt as though all human interaction, all human activity operates under a set of rules I can never understand. Body language is foreign to me. I can't see the "hidden meanings" in the words of others. (I never even knew that words could have hidden meanings until I read about it in a book!)

So I spend a lot of time in my own world, in the company of my own thoughts. It's a safe place, happy and warm. As long as I stay I don't have to struggle with the hidden world beyond myself.

But I sometimes wonder if anyone else will ever know what it's like to see the world through my mind. Will anyone ever care?

Vatican: Pulling Plug on Terri Akin to Capital Punishment

I'm afraid I must disagree with the Vatican on this one. No civilized country would mete out capital punishment by withdrawing food and water.

Hopefully Terri Schiavo is too brain-damaged to know what is happening to her. Though at terrisfight.org I've seen some video clips that make me uneasy. In these Terri appears to be severely brain-damaged yet certainly aware of her surroundings and capable of emotion.

Of course her husband, Mark Schaivo, knows much more about her situation than I do. But from these videos I'm afraid she is able to suffer. No doubt she would be better off to be with God, but starvation and dehydration is a horrible death. If there is any chance that Terri can still feel, however slightly, letting her die this way is obscene.

Old and New

Some years ago I owned a fairly nice collection of Christmas tree ornaments, inherited from my late parents. Some were antiques. They had been on every family Christmas tree since I was born.

After our marriage I shared them with my husband. I loved seeing the old things on our very first tree. It seemed a perfect blending of my past with my present, and helped heal the pain of my parents' deaths.

Then we had children. Our younger child is a five-year-old, possibly autistic boy who likes to throw things. We used the old ornaments because these were all we had; we couldn't afford to buy more. We tried everything. Nothing worked. One by one, the lovely glass balls went smash against the wall Each time I heard one break my own heart broke a little too.

Fortunately we acquired more ornaments. Some were gifts from relatives. Many were left behind from a tenant of a family rental house. A few were made by our children as school projects. All graced our tree this Christmas.

Today we finally took down the Christmas tree. We're late because I've been quite ill for several weeks with a lung infection. As I took down the ornaments I thought about our old ones and our new ones. It's interesting how motherhood changes one's perspective. Our tree is much more beautiful now than it was with the antique ornaments. The best ones, that really make it shine, are the paper reindeer and the glass stocking that reads "Baby's First Christmas 1997". And the ones made precious by the memory of my son's eager hands putting them on the branches two and three at a time.

My old baubles served their time well. But the entire lot would look shabby next to a piece of red cardboard with a string for a loop, framing a picture of our daughter sitting on Santa's lap.

The Disaster

I feel that I should say something on the tragedy in Asia, since so many others have done so. I have read many eloquent expressions of grief and faith. I have a full heart. But, lacking skill, I could only repeat the beautiful sentiments of others.

I would like to offer money, but right now we have none. Hopefully, later on I'll be able to give a little. Right now all I have to offer is prayer.

The Joy of Gray

Something rare and wonderful is happening. It's a gray, cloudy day in Texas.

Most of my fellow depressed people get worse in the winter, when the days are darker. I'm just the opposite.

The summers here are endless. The bright sun hurts my eyes. I can feel the pain in my spirit. The wet heat burdens my soul. I can't breathe.

But days like this sing to me. I can see. I can breathe. The air is full of life. The blues and grays are the colors of joy. The bare trees, like hands raised to Heaven, add to the music.

Right now I can only dream of these things. I have walking pneumonia, and my lungs are too sickly for me to go outside. I can only hope for more lovely gray days.

Blogging and Tiredness

In the past few days I've tried numerous times to update this blog. Each time, for one reason or another, it didn't take. Once I simply couldn't get connected to Blogger and I lost the entry. It wasn't one of my better efforts. I suppose it is now floating around somewhere in cyberspace like the lost and lonely orphan it deserves to be.

But several times I've had an idea and just been too tired to write about it. It's been a bad year here in Texas for sinuses. Wet and hot, then wet and cold. The local doctors would likely be happily contemplating the world cruises they can now afford...if only they weren't so busy working themselves to death.

I hope this tiredness is due to my sickly sinuses. I've got a spot on my right side that looks a little too much like the pictures of melanoma I've found on the 'net. Melanoma isn't a happy disease for anyone. With our small income and no insurance, treatment might be an iffy proposition. So I'd really just like to skip the whole thing. As my hubby says, Let's not do it and say we did.

I won't know anything for certain until January. That's the soonest I can see our doctor. I'll be doing a lot of hoping and praying...when I'm not too tired.

New Journey

Well, I broke my resolution. Instead of blogging I've been looking around and reading other blogs, trying to get some sort of handle on what I want to say. It's difficult for me. I don't like to share my thoughts and feelings. I prefer to keep them rolled up tight in their dark inner place. Keep it happy. Keep it safe. No worries, no waves.

But things have been changing. That tight little place isn't so so cozy anymore. The darkness that once was so warm is empty now. Those feelings and ideas that were once my friends now seem in danger of becoming my demons. It's stifling there. It hurts.

But how do I let these things out? I need to find my voice...to find the me in all of this. Not in a selfish, self-centered way. In order to find where God is leading me, I think I need to better understand just who He is leading. Who is she...where are her words?

I now begin the journey anew.