I am Tallulah

The JNAC came back with their recommendations to the congregation. They are recommending going to a part-time minister. Considering their minister is leaving now, I guess it doesn't really matter anymore.

They gave the congregation a survey to fill out, which was done by 70 % of the congregation. The results are truly sad.

Ranking the abilities in a minister, from most important to least:

1. Ability to relate well to children, youth and seniors.
2. Good communication skills and follow-up on issues.
3. Pastoral care.
4. Approachable and effective as a counsellor.
5. Ability to work and present self as a professional.
6. Strong effective sermons.
7. Administrative/organizational/follow-up.
8. Ability to develop and support Christian Education.
9. Involvement with the community.
10. Commitment to professionand personal growth.

According to the above survey results, the word of God, through sermons, rates a mere six on their scale of one to ten. To these people it is more important for someone to look like a minister, than to preach the word of God. All of the items above #6 are more important than the words/messages of God through sermons! What does that suggest about their spiritual priorities? Where is God in all this?

It's sad.

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Based on the needs assessment, it seems I will still have my job for the foreseeable future. It seems they may even increase my work load, although no one has made any mention of increasing my pay. I will need to find an efficient way to keep close tabs on the amount of work I do from now on, since I'm only being paid for six hours a week.

All this is, of course, contingent on my not rankling anyone on the board/in the congregation. Guess it's time to shut my mouth - I need this job.

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I am tired. The desire to fight what I can't fight has taken its toll. It would seem that I am in the minority after all. So what's the point......

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Went to the church board meeting last night. As usual the same stuff was rehashed. They are definitely going to take the recommendations regarding part-time minister to the congregation for a vote. And the current minister seems quite happy to be leaving. Well, it's a good move for him, but a bad move for us.

They were a little surprised about the survey results, and I managed to put my two shillings in. Not that it makes a bit of difference.

The only way this church is going to survive is if they get more money. They are planning a stewardship drive to raise more money. I don't really understand what a stewardship drive is, but I'm not holding my breath that it's going to net more cash.

They keep thinking that the church is a business. If so, what does it sell? What is the product? We aren't selling the customers anything. And if what we are offering is the word of God, that's not supposed to be sold, but given freely.

The church is not a business. It is a charity. It relies solely on the goodwill of its parishioners to generate operating funds. As a charity, it must fundraise to survive. That is a reality. So in order for this church to survive it has to do more fundraising, whether they like it or not.

They told me last night that they have a fundraising committee, but in fact, it's a stewardship committee. It isn't effectively fundraising. The only thing I can do to help this church, is to offer to organize more fundraisers.

Do I really want to help a bunch of people who, at this point in time, are really not worth helping? I am so sick of the hypocracy, the two-faced attitudes. Do I really want to get more involved in this? It might help to keep my job, but is that enough?

I need to think about this.

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An issue was brought up about the newspaper coverage for the church, and that it wasn't passed by the proper committee. That really pissed me off. I wrote those articles not as their secretary, but as a freelance writer. I was asked by the two ladies who have the authority to do so. If that idiot Stephen thinks I am going to have him read my articles and approve them before they go to print, he is a bigger idiot than I though! I do not give editing approval to anyone unless they are the editor of the publication I am writing for, and I still have ultimate veto power. Idiot Stephen better get used to that fact! I am going to speak to the ladies about this and reinterate some facts. And, I think I'll bring it up at the next board meeting.

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Will there ever be any peace...........

There is so much in my head, so much stress, so much everything. I need to externalize some of this.

Mother

Here's the Reader's Digest version: she's had indigestion, constipation, and for the last three days stomach pains so intense she thought she was dying. The doctor prescribed meds but she started vomiting today. Tomorrow she has to have blood tests to see if there is too much digoxin in her system. So far tonight she's managing to keep her pills down (she vomited her morning pills), and to take a bit of soup broth.

She is depressed and miserable, and that's spilling out to those around her. I understand her misery and fears, yet I find myself angry that she isn't listening to my advice. She should have kept taking her allergy pills but as usual she didn't and now she's congested and coughing, which doesn't help the vomiting any. She refuses to take my advice, but turns to me to figure out what the hell is wrong when she feels bad. Then, when I'm angry with her, I feel guilty for feeling that way.

Work

I haven't gotten any work done either. Managed to get some barn work done, but there's so much more around this place that needs doing and no one but me to do it. I need a freakin' hired hand, but couldn't pay the poor soul.

It would appear that I will have my p/t job for at least until November, depending on whether the congregation actually stays together.

Haven't written any profiles. Did do some research, but lack the energy to write the piece. I am letting my friend down, and I feel terrible about this. She deserves much better than this.

The only bit of fun I've had was checking out online vintage shops.

There is no balance in my life, and it's beginning to show. I need balance, peace, tranquility, yet have none of those things.

Right now, however, I'm just too tired.

This morning mom had blood tests -- four vials taken! One was the usual INR, but the others are to test for digoxin levels. She also had an ECG. The ECG was okay, and we'll hear about the blood tests probably Monday. No vomiting since yesterday morning, and she's managed to keep the soup down. She is going to stay with broths for the rest of today as well. She feels sore and achy from the coughing and vomiting, but that's to be expected. She's also really tired, but that's from lack of sleep for a couple of days. Hopefully the tests will reveal what the problem is. I'm hoping she can reduce the digoxin.

She had a dream that they had misdiagnosed her condition and that she didn't have CHF. Wishful thinking? Or premonition?

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It has become increasingly obvious to me that my vocabulary has slipped considerably over the years. Too much slang, and I've gotten into the habit of not pronouncing my word endings, like "t" and "d". I hate sloppy speech and here I am slurring with the best of them.

Note to self: remember to speak the words trippingly upon the tongue!

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One thing I really must complete soon is the farewell letter to the minister and his wife. I started writing it the first of the month, and just couldn't find the words I really wanted to say. His last day will be July 25. I must apply myself to writing the letter before that time. It's a hard letter to write.

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Stress is catching up with me because I've been mixing words up again, getting the letters confused and saying the words the wrong way. Also stumbling over words when I try to have a conversation with someone.

I've been overeating again, not exercising, and am a mess. To everyone else I seem fine, but inside I'm about to fly apart in a million pieces.

My chant these days should be: "This, too, shall pass."

Still haven't heard back from the doctor regarding the blood tests. I phoned but they had turned on their answering machine. It really angers me that they aren't more diligent about patient followup.

Mother has lost six pounds in the past eight days. She is afraid to eat much for fear she starts vomiting again. Fortunately she hasn't and that's a reason to be grateful.

I watched a movie today called "Dad", starting Ted Danson and Jack Lemmon. I think it was Jack's final movie before he died. The movie is about aging parents and all that entails, and I found myself crying through the movie. I don't know how it ended because I turned it off at a good point in the movie. I didn't want to see anyone die. Cowardly, maybe, but I wanted to imagine a happily-ever-after ending.

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The congregation voted, 35-7, to go to a half-time minister. I heard one lady say that if a minister wasn't in church on Sunday she wasn't going to come to church. I think there are many who feel as she does. I am going to bring this up at the next board meeting.

Another thing I'm planning to do is request that a fundraising committee be established. I am willing to chair it, and I have been researching many fundraising possibilities from the internet. If money is the issue in this church then we need to bring in more money.

I plan to make a presentation at the next board meeting. I've got things to say and am going to say them.

Keep your fingers crossed that this doesn't backfire.

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Over the weekend I watched a British travelog, and some British television shows. I can't tell you how much I long to go to Britain! I watched these shows and studied all the scenes, checking out the minutae details. It's odd how much that part of the world feels more "at home" than here does. I guess it's the voices of my ancestors calling me.

I finally called the doctor's office on Tuesday to inquire about mother's blood tests. The tests were normal. So why did she have such pain and such bloating? No answers from the doctor.

Fortunately she is feeling better, albeit worried that the problem will reappear.

Sometimes I wonder if the doctors really know what the hell they are talking about.

I wish we had a holistic doctor in town. I'd like to examine other options for dealing with CHF. Problem is, I can't afford the expense.

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Was informed today that the church already has a fundraising committee, so I won't be proposing one. It seems that the people on the board are convinced that a Stewardship drive will be the answer to their financial woes. So be it. I can't help with that aspect. The only thing I can do is offer to handle a few extra fundraisers, things I can do on my own. They need all the help they can get, but they continue to push aside any offers of help because it doesn't fit with their ideas of how things should be done. All I can do is offer.

I hate this.

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My sincere apologies to those who brave continued reading of this journal, which has become boring and repetitive, much like my life. For you I will end with a quote I re-discovered tucked away in the pages of my planner. It is from The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho.

"... I have inside me the winds of the deserts, the oceans, the stars, and everything created in the universe.

We were all made by the same hand, and we all have the same soul."

For the next little while things here may become a little intense. I have toyed with the idea of making the posts private for a while. Perhaps I will at some point but I'd rather just write it out, chaff and all, and let you sift through it if you desire.

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"I don't have any reason to want to live," She said, tears welling once again in her eyes.

I didn't know what to say. What reasons could I offer as incentive to live? All her reasons for letting go were valid, and I lacked the means to alter them in any way. All I could do was sit there, looking at her.

The weight loss was discernable now. In my mind I could hear her words about her mother: "She was tiny now; I had never seen my mother small. She had always been so heavy and now here was this little woman laying in the bed before me."

Years ago She had been a thin woman. I remember thinking she was too thin; her legs and arms seemed almost anorexic. After the accident, when she could no longer work, she gained weight. Too much weight. It affected her health as much as the accident had done.

Now, with the weight loss, and the health problems, this once-vital woman was losing the desire to live. All the struggles, the bone-tiring work, the passion that she applied to handle her life, had gone, leaving her struggling to find a reason to live.

She never thought she'd end up like this. She believed the old adage: "Good things come to those who wait." She worked hard and went without, putting others before herself. She waited for the good things to come, but they never did.

How can you offer life to someone who has been so deeply hurt and disappointed?

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"Such sweet observance in this work was had
that one might see those far-off eyes look sad."
~ The Rape of Lucrece, Wm. Shakespeare

Naked

I am naked,
casting words before you.
Runes.
Holding secrets.
Can you tell my story?
Hear my past?
Divine my future
through these words?

Wounds;
silvery scars woven, web-like,
amongst the letters, punctuations.
Each syllable, sentence,
a piece of flesh, torn,
leaving me white-boned visible
before you.

Vulnerable.
I wait, head bowed, for a sign.
Am I good enough?
Now that I am exposed,
each word, painstaking,
angonized over.

"Never tell anybody that much about yourself",
the girl in the washroom said.

Do you see me now?
A little child asking to come in.
A puppy, belly-crawling towards the alpha dog.
Will you spit on me?
Mock my words?
Leave me battered, bruised,
abandoned in some backroad ditch?

These words are my children,
as Athena from Zeus' forehead sprang.
This work,
my leap of faith,
my battle scars,
my dreams,
all tied together with a yellow ribbon,
sprigs of rosemary tucked in the folds.

Tread carefully over my words
lest you bruise my nakedness with your steps.

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"Do you remember when I used to make a special dinner for your father for his birthday?" she asked.

After some thought I did vaguely remember a few special meals. It was her birthday gift, a good meal. She wasn't given any money to buy gifts, so she cooked. Her mother did the same thing years before.

So she cooked last night, into the wee hours of this morning, to give him a birthday meal. Meat loaf, scalloped potatoes, stuffing. Big pans of it. She kept coming to me asking about measurements since she was making such large quantities.

She felt good, and had something to do, to look forward to. He asked me if she should be doing this, if it wouldn't be too tiring for her. I told him to let her do it. She had energy she hadn't had in a long while, and doing this sort of thing is good for her. She needs to have more to look forward to, and to stop worrying about what might happen.

Today was a good day, and for that I give thanks.

Today is election day. Do I vote for Tweedle Dee, or Tweedle Dum? Hmmm, I think I'll vote for The Other Guy! He hasn't had his chance to mess things up. At least he is more focused on the real issues, even if the rest of the country is blinded by the Tweedles.

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Church yesterday was interesting. The pulput was gone, the table in front of the pulpit was gone. The table in the foyer was gone. Stuff was gone from the walls. The congregation of the church has officially moved out leaving their building for us, for as long as we need it. So we have a building, even if it is out of town, off the main path.

We were also given oodles of things from another church that was closing. It's all been stored in someone's barn right now but they will be bringing it to the church over the summer.

And on Friday a local business donated a pretty decent photocopier to the church! It needs a good cleaning, but I had it plugged in and ready to go minutes after the delivery driver pulled out of the lane.

You would think all this would make people feel a little more positive about the future of the church.

It doesn't.

The minister tore the ligaments on his ribs on Friday as he lifted his son out of bed to put him into the wheelchair. Rev. T couldn't make it to church because he was in so much pain. So it's Tylenol 3's and rest for him, which is not good because he needs to be out house-searching if he expects to have a place to move to come September.

Rev. T's wife invited me to lunch after church Sunday. What a surprise that was! As I sat there I realized I haven't been out to lunch in years! No one to "do" lunch with. Anyway it was very nice of her to invite me.

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One item that did arise on Sunday was the fact that they are not thinking past December. That means I may not have a job after that. So I need to figure out what my next move is.

This time last year I was hoping to embark on doing more art and selling it. I need to figure out how to do this. Self-employment is the only real solution for me because of the family demands. So that's the immediate goal of this summer. Find a way to do what I love to do and make money at it.

Another project this summer: set up a website for the Well Being Team I'm part of, and get a brochure done for them. Also need to find a yoga/tai chi/meditation instructor(s) and get some classes going in town as one of our projects for the team.

Not to be forgotten: profiles!!!!!! Get my slothful self moving on profiles!!!!

However, right now I need coffee.

News about mom: her INR is a little low, 1.6, but the doctor says come in on Monday and get the blood tested again. Then if it's still low he'll adjust the coumadin.

I can't recall whether a low INR means the blood is too thin... when the number was higher they gave her more meds to lower it because the blood was too thick. I think.......

Well, hopefully they will be able to lower the coumadin because I hate her having to take that med.

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I hurt my back this week and have been in agony. Pain meds aren't that effective so I'm sitting here with a hot water bottle on my back. So much fun!!!!!

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To any Canadian who may read this, Happy Canada Day tomorrow!