Trick or Treat Morality

Christians, including me, make the easy mistake of majoring on minors and minoring on majors. Halloween and other holidays with ancient pagan histories seem to be a favorite.


Here are attitudes I've encountered on moral issues over the past decade at a variety of Christian groups (Evangelical, Catholic, Presbyterian, You Name It, etc.) :

Abortion? [ie: the intentional murder of a pre-born child]:
shhhhh.


Contraception? [ie: the artificial interference with the creation of human life]:

Moot point. Personal choice. No problem. (FYI: prior to the 1930's, this was not just a Catholic issue but all Christian groups were opposed to the practice. Fear not, I'm not advocating unbridled fertility at any cost. But that's another point and blog post. If I ever dare. Don't worry, I probably won't.)


Sterilization? [or as my articulate husband would call it "castration"]:
Moot point. Personal choice. No problem.

Disrespect & Dismissal of Motherhood? [ie: Abandonment of children to minimum wage daycare workers so mothers can pursue extra cash and career status]:

female equality, liberation, personal fulfillment


Absolute Abandonment of Morality in the Name of Entertainment? [You don't have to be a TV nazi to recognize Nero thought live humans eaten by bears was a good time too. Desperate Housewives?? Sex in the City?? I'm more liberated bare foot and pregnant than those skanks are any day.]

Uh huhh; Lets watch it together after home group.


Complete Reliance on the liberal state to educate one's child? [ no, homeschooling's not for everyone but can't the "birds and the bees" and birth control pills be lessons saved for mom & pop?]

Uh huh. Can't they take them sooner? I mean a full day at 5 years old isn't soon enough; I need them out of my hair at least by 2.5; save us, Hillary!! Save us Head Start!!


Halloween? [kids dressing up and asking neighbors for candy while mom pushes junior in the stroller]

HOLY HELL FIRE!! Would somebody please call the Donut Man, bring in some hay and have an alterna-harvest party before we're drowning in sin and mini snickers bars. Quick. Quick. Call the homeschooling moms so they can raise a stink cause don't you know all the neighbors are holding seances and shoving razors in apples then drowning all the bobbers!!!!!


My Point: If you have a moral stance against trick or treating but skirt the bigger issues, you're a putz. Get with the program; let the kids wear face paint and gather free candy (cause if you don't they'll have a really great reason to hate religion); save moral opposition for worthy issues such as ... hmm ... killing babies would be a good start.

And if you've made it to the bottom of this post too long for a blog, here's your bonus apple bobbing shots (there were too many good ones to choose from):



See how lame the harvest party was in 1982 ... No wonder I stink at bobbing; Joey's mom never gave us kids a turn ...




Sad, small children dreaming of candy but soaking with apples.





That's what my father-in-law is doing with all his retirement time. No wonder the basement's not cleaned out ...




And yes, this is me and my overly excited homeschooled child in 7 years. He talks really fast about things other people aren't interested in like fuel and driveway gradients. But he trick or treats. Darn it. He trick or treats.

Retrieved Babies

I put up the above post last night and somehow deleted 2 posts on babies, a post on Aldi and another on Ron Paul. I can deal with the loss of the latter but not the bumpkins. So here they are (all 3 of em):

Vegetarians Are Annoying

Vegetarians are annoying. They really should go back to where they came from.

Doesn't everyone agree? I mean I associate the kooks (especially the ones who still eat fish! fish is meat!) with civil war reinactors and white woman who do karate in the "you're kidding" category.

So why the rant? I hope it doesn't feel like a rant as I mean them no harm and I'm really not even mad. I mean I would never purposely run over a herbivore with my car or shopping cart but at the same time I'm not having one over for dinner any time soon. But still, why the rant? ...

One too many a person as of late has asked me if I shop at the local organic farm; they ask me in a way like they know I'm going to say "yes" and then they'll say "me too" and then we'll have this really lame thing in common. How cool. One lady even said I look like I hang out there. And recently my hair dresser flat out asked me if I eat meat (she said, "cause you look like you don't"). Pray tell, what do meat eaters look like?

Yes, I eat meat and no I don't hang out at organic farms. I like things packaged, preserved and loaded with lots of salt and dead animals. I also like smoking and drinking and I don't even recycle (bonus info).

I'm really not mad about the fact that I strike people as a granola stomping type, I guess. I mean I actually take it as a compliment when I really think about it. When I get the comments I always think I must emit a bottled water type of savior fare -- that or I look oddly thin and wacky in my dark-rimmed glasses (probably the latter).

Whatever the case, let it be known that I'm definitely not a vegetarian. I know I pretended to be in college for like 6 months but I secretly ate chicken the whole time (see, vegetarians are annoying).

You Are Her Mother

A friend of mine had fresh tears in her eyes at the park this evening. A story from the news about an abused child had gotten under her skin. She said she couldn't sleep last night. Couldn't stop praying. Couldn't stop checking in for updates on the web.

I could relate. I'm sure many parents can. Every once in a while you see something in the media. Something horrific. And it just eats at you on a personal level.

As I drove home, I pondered this mother's words and her genuine heartache over the child she's never met.

She questioned, "Where's the girl's mother? How could she have allowed this to happen?"

Pondering how Our Lord constantly uses lowly humans in our works, prayers and sufferings to heal the world, I was hit with the thought that this friend's sleepless night and prayerful day were not in vain. It's a mystery too great for me but I know this much is true: Prayer and suffering are the conditions God places on many of his actions.

If the abused child's mother is not sleepless and heartbroken over her, this mother she's never met is. And in the rosary she said for the girl, in the 10,000 angels she set to flight by her petitions, perhaps my friend will be her salvation. It's a "communion of saints" thing too great for me to understand. My friend is the girl's mother.

I'm A Sicko: Stephanie Melber Coffered Pineapple Stuffing And I've Been Passing it Off As My Own

I am a vile, disgusting person. A lunatic some might say. I deserve to be reviled and stomped on. All 5 of you should stop reading my blog and send me hate mail.

Here's what I did. I have a friend. A true pal. We potty train together, jump in puddles and let our kids sprinkle baby powder snow on really boring days. This dear friend (you guessed right, she's Stephanie Melber, reknowned Jim Thorpe mother of 4) graced me with my first dish of pineapple stuffing not too far back.

Since then, I solicited the recipe and whipped up the dish for many a cavorting crowd ... all to gasps and rave reviews. "Oh the smell ... is that apple? no, it's more exotic? is this bread pudding? no, it is far far too good ... what is this? we need more! MORE, MORE PINEAPPLE STUFFING! WE'RE GOING CRAZY! WE COULD EAT IT FOR DAYS! STOP YOUR BLABBING, GET BACK IN THAT KITCHEN AND MAKE US MORE! WE'RE MAD! WE'RE SICK AND WE'RE NOT GOING HOME UNTIL ..." (well, you get the picture ... and those were just my inlaws ... my direct relations were not as kind).

All the while, I smiled and offered seconds. Never once did I even off handedly give credit where credit was due.

So here's my point and my problem, somehow Stephanie has discovered my fraudulence and now I think she's out to get me (she's been known to do things like toilet paper folks cars and such).

I don't expect Mrs. Melber to forgive me anytime soon. Perhaps to taunt me, she dropped off another hot dish this evening (see picture above). I pretended I wasn't home. She peaked in the window, threw her hands in the air and let out a huff. Her fingers were still bleeding from hand shredding the pineapple rind.

I ate the whole thing. It was delicious. But that's not the sick part ... since only 5 of you read my blog I may just continue passing the stuffing off as my own. Sick, I tell you, I'm sick.

Remember Granny?

Remember Granny? Well, I bumped into her again. She clearly didn't remember me or my babies that she adored once again with abandonment.

And just cause people are interesting, I'll tell you about it.

Her eyes were watery as she told me she buried a baby when he was 4 months old. "That was a long time ago," she said, "but it's like he was just in my arms when I look at his grave."

Only 2 survived. A boy and a girl. The rest died in the womb. And the other, well she already mentioned, she had to bury him. But she's so glad for the two she has. They gave her 7 grandchildren. And now the grandchildren are having children.

I told her again that I'm expecting my third and she clapped for joy and gave me a hug. She said, "That's all we should live for ... having babies ... being happy ... now I'm alone and I wish I could go back. I wish I could hear the noise. Now it's so quiet."

No talk about "being done" in this meeting. Funny. A different night. A different mood. The opposite message. In her humanity, she's a gem. If you just turn her (or anyone of us) in the light, the color is completely different but true and coexisting.

Old Friends

Here's my dear old friend Talitha and her daughter Eliana competing for largest belly circumference. They said I could share this photo with my blog world and I couldn't resist.

Just cause people are interesting, here's a ditty on Talitha:

I met Talitha at Liberty University. We became fast friends. Some even thought we were sisters. Talitha grew up mostly in third world countries. She's most comfortable eating rice with her hands.

Talitha paints brown children and sunsets and asks for things like mangos and papayas even when she's in the southern part of the United States and not merely the southern hemisphere.

Talitha and I have been friends (even if seperated by a few continents for 10 years now). One time I really ignored her to hang out with my boyfriend at the time (now my husband Pete). She was so patient. I was so rude.

Talitha is the oldest of 4 sisters. She also has an older brother and a young brother. Talitha watched all her younger sisters marry before her, patiently the bridesmaid. She spent most of her 20's in places like Haiti as a missionary even though it was always her dream to marry and have babies (and be a missionary).

Then one day, Talitha's Prince Pete dropped from the sky and snatched her up from her 3rd world mud hut. I scattered flowers at their wedding.

Today Pete and Talitha are happy and healthy. They eat things like tree bark and fennel seeds and tell people about Jesus. They are the salt of the earth.

Let's pray baby #2 has as big a belly as baby #1 and let us all ponder the question: How do bellies get that very big on such a twig and oat diet?

Be well, Talitha. Time will bring us back together soon.