Where I've Been

For the last week I've been helping "Brian" (name changed) get settled in to the command here in Georgia.  This basically means that we run all over base in 98-degree weather (in uniform, no less!) trying to find people to get him checked in where he needs to be.  We've ended up with a lot of in-between time standing around and waiting to talk to people, so I've gotten to know quite a bit about him.  I've learned that he's a bright, funny kid who has had to grow up entirely too fast.  A twenty-year-old should not have to go to court to see his daughter, but that's the situation he's in right now.  I am saddened that he has to go through this, but even more I am bewildered and disgusted that anyone, much less a mother, would use a child as leverage to get what they want.  I will never understand that.

I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries by talking about him here, but I wanted to ask everyone to please pray for him - not just that his pain would be healed, but that he would feel God healing him.

All of this reminds me that as much as I complain about my situation, I am still unbelievably blessed.

Stream of Consciousness.

This is just a series of semi-disjointed thoughts while I muster up the energy to clean the kitchen.  I swear, every time I turn my back a pile of stinky dishes materializes out of a rift in the time-space continuum.

God doesn't "send" us to Hell.  We're already on our way there.  Because of Original Sin we are cut off from God -- we cut ourselves off from God -- and are damned the moment we are capable of rational decision-making.  God wants desperately to save us, but because of free will we have to choose to be saved.

If you think about it, life begins before conception.  A single cell is still a living thing.  Human life begins when that egg is fertilized.  It's kind of mind-blowing to think that God was already in the process of creating the next generation when we were born.

Submitting to my husband doesn't mean nodding stupidly and saying "yes dear" to everything he says.  In this context it means trusting that he will lead and care for our family's well-being.  Leadership does not equal a cushy position of absolute power.  In fact, it is just the opposite -- being the leader of a family means that a husband puts the needs of his family above his own because he is responsible for their very survival.  A wife might have to answer to her husband, but he has to answer to God.

It seems to me that 'liberation' has had the unintended consequence of objectifying women.  If I go out in a dress that barely covers my whats-her-business, get slobbering drunk, and flirt shamelessly with a complete stranger, I'm liberated.  If I stay home and clean house in the pretty skirt and blouse that my husband made a point of appreciating, I'm oppressed.  Um... what?

OK.  I'm really gonna get the kitchen clean tonight.  Really... hey look, a butterfly!


This might take a while.

<3 Birdie

Personal Security

I recently found out about this at work; on a pretty regular basis we get emails about how important it is for us to maintain our personal security and privacy.  This, however, is something that doesn't just affect government workers, so I think it's important that I pass it on to as many people as I can.

Spokeo is basically a search engine for people.  You can type in anyone's name, email address or phone number, and get an extensive list of some very personal information.  I looked up my own name and the search results included the name of my old apartment complex, the city I live in, my zip code, and specific information about my family.  None of this was information that I gave them, and that terrifies me.

I did find out in their "help" section that you can remove your profile from search results.  I think it's extremely important that everyone does this.

How do I remove my information from Spokeo’s search results?

While our search results show only publicly-accessible information gathered from hundreds of public sources, such as phone books, marketing surveys, business sites and more, we understand that you are concerned about the information shown our search results, and allow all users to opt out. You can do so by clicking on the Privacy link located at the bottom of the page which will take you here: http://www.spokeo.com/privacy

Removing Search Results

1. Locate the search result you want removed. For name search results, click on the listing you want removed.
2. Copy the URL from your browser’s address bar.
3. Go to http://www.spokeo.com/privacy
4. Paste the URL.
5. Provide your email address (required to complete the verification process).
6. Type in the Captcha Code exactly as you see it.
7. Check your Inbox for the confirmation email, and click on the link to complete removal process.

If you are encountering difficulties, please ensure that you read all of the instructions. Make sure the URL, Captcha Code and email address verification are correctly entered. Please check your SPAM folder for a message titled Spokeo Directory Removal Confirmation, in case it does not appear in your inbox.

Priorities

Something amazing happened today, and I just had to share it.

I was talking with a girl in my office, and she happened to ask how things were at home with Little Lion Man.  I intended to smile politely and say, "oh, things are going well."  But somehow that suddenly turned into several minutes of pouring out my sorrows to a woman who doesn't even know my first name.  She was nice enough about it, and offered some resources like the Chaplain and emotional health services on base, but finished it up with the usual:

"Well, I hate to say it, but you knew what you were getting yourself into."

I bit my tongue hard enough that I thought I'd draw blood and tried not to cry.  After a few moments of awkward silence, she left.  I figured that, aside from making a fool of myself, that was the end of the conversation.

About half an hour later, my Chief - the woman in charge of our group of sailors - came into our office.  She sat down and said someone had told her I was having a hard time, and would I like to talk.  To summarize:

"Well Chief, I come home from work, walk my dog, pick my son up from the babysitter, spend a few hours with him, put him to bed, and cry myself to sleep because I just can't take this anymore."  I started explaining that I understood I made a commitment and should have known what I was getting myself into, but she raised her hand and said...

"No.  Your number-one priority needs to be taking care of that sweet little boy, and we're going to make that happen."

It doesn't end there, though.  Later I got a call from my leading Petty Officer, and he said that if I just made a few minor adjustments to my request paperwork, he would make sure it got to the Executive Officer today.


Which means the C.O. could sign off on it this week.


Which means this nightmare might finally be over.


"Praise Jesus" is such an inadequate phrase.

Not Forgotten

I love to dance.  I adore dancing.  Unfortunately I am also about as lithe and graceful as a platypus.  My earthly body was designed for many wonderful things -- prancing a cross a dance floor is apparently not one of them.

But man, when I get to Heaven, me and Jesus are gonna boogie.

And this is what we're gonna dance to.

Just listen to this song and try to stay sitting down.  Just try. =^D

--Birdie

Sundays With Charlie

Since God came into my life I've been wanting desperately to go to church -- hear an inspired sermon, find a church family, and be able to spend some dedicated quality time with our Holy Father and Savior.  Unfortunately, I work on Sundays.  And it really stinks.

A friend of mine at work graciously invited me to a Saturday night service at her church, but... well, I shouldn't really say anything bad about her church, since it seems to be doing good things in her life, but it's a little on the warm-and-fuzzy spiritual-but-not-religious side for my liking.  Yes, it's wonderful to hear about how much God loves us, but I don't think you can truly preach salvation without forcing people to face some uncomfortable realities about themselves.  And while I think that one can go so far into religiosity as to forget the spiritual core, sometimes it seems like "spiritual but not religious" equates with "I believe in God as long as it doesn't require any serious moral fortitude."

So far my solution has been to look up audio sermons online.  Which kinda worked out for the best, because I ended up finding out about this guy:

He. Is. Amazing.  I can think of few times in my recent past - if any - in which I felt so edified, so uplifted, so convicted as I do while listening to the sermons of the incomparable Charles Haddon Spurgeon.

You can listen to recitations of some of his sermons here.  They're just readings of his original work, so it's not quite the same as the real thing, but the wonderful message is still there.  I hope you'll enjoy them as much as I have.

Canon in D... With a Twist

I cannot stop listening to this.

Permanent Ink

I have five tattoos.  Well, four and a half, technically; I never finished the last one.  I thought they were ever-so-clever when I got them.  I adored tattoos, and to be honest I still have a hard time seeing one and not thinking "oh man that is so awesome I want more ink!"

I am aware of what the Bible says about tattooing or scarification: "Do not cut your bodies for the dead or put tattoo marks on yourselves.  I am the LORD."  (Leviticus 19:27).  I immediately see two reasons why this is perfectly understandable:

1. God himself lovingly sculpted our bodies.  Do we really have a right to intentionally alter them?  In addition, regardless of any health precautions, tattooing always carries a risk of infection and diseases like Hepatitis B.
2. Tattoo parlors are, to be blunt, not the sort of venues a Christian should be in.  The culture surrounding body modification is generally... unseemly.  In fact, tattooing in America originally came from U.S. sailors returning from Japan, where tattoos were worn by members of the Yakuza -- a crime syndicate that would make Al Capone's mafia look like a bunch of teddy bears.

I think it's easy to see why God would take issue with this practice.  We are marring the bodies he created for us, and we are (at least visually) associating ourselves with an unsavory subculture.  I think, just as with any other personal decision, a Christian needs to prayerfully evaluate why he or she is choosing to do something so worldly while claiming to desire to be Christ-like in life.

Now here is my dilemma: what should I do with them?  I'm afraid that professional tattoo removal is out of the question, at least in the near future.  Laser tattoo removal is prohibitively expensive -- in my case, it would likely cost thousands of dollars -- and excruciatingly painful.  I've found an over-the-counter system which is essentially a microdermabrasion kit with the addition of some mysterious lotions, but it's still fairly expensive and I haven't found any indication that it's particularly effective.

Then again, perhaps I'd like to keep them around for a while.  Yes, these markings on my skin come from a period in my life in which, to be honest, I didn't like myself very much.  But now I can see them not as an anchor to my old ways but as a reminder that while ink might be permanent, my past doesn't have to be.  And praise Jesus for that.

Good Eats #1: Israeli Salad

I learned how to make this while I was in school learning Hebrew.  It's deceptively simple, so quality ingredients really shine in this.

Basic Ingredients:

• Tomato, seeds removed
• Cucumber, wax and seeds removed
• Olive oil
• Lemon juice (better if it's fresh-squeezed) 
• Salt (buy a sea salt grinder - it's only slightly more expensive than a regular salt shaker and the added texture and taste is incomparable)

I like to add:

• Fresh cilantro
• Green onion
• Za'atar (a delicious Middle Eastern spice blend; see below for instructions on how to make it)
• Aleppo pepper (ground chili pepper works too, but Aleppo has a nice smoky taste)

Instructions:

Chop all veggies and herbs into bite size pieces. I prefer to dice everything as finely as possible, but this is more a matter of personal taste.  Put all ingredients in the prettiest bowl you own; drizzle olive oil and lemon juice, and season with coarsely-ground salt.  Serve with flatbread (like matzo, pita or naan), sour cream or plain yogurt, and hummus.

Oh, and here's how to make za'atar:

• 1/4 cup sumac (paprika is a close approximation)
• 2 tbsp thyme
• 1 tbsp toasted sesame seeds
• 2 tbsp marjoram
• 2 tbsp oregano
• 1 tbsp coarse salt (you could leave this out if you're going for a low-sodium diet)

This can be stored in an airtight bag for 3-6 months.

Bon apetit!

--Birdie

Gratitude. Or, "I just washed these sheets!"

I am thankful that:

1. The monstrous gray spider that crawled across my husband's hand as he was folding laundry was just a wolf spider, and thus only gave him a major case of the hibbly-jibblies and not a nasty bite.
2. Maybelline decided to potty on the hard linoleum floor instead of my new carpet.
3. I can have clean, hot water whenever I want it and in any quantity.  Seriously, I am amazed daily by this.*
4. My mom secretly stocked my pantry with antiseptic packages of skim milk because she knows how difficult it is for me to get to the commissary, and that the gas station by my house doesn't carry skim milk.
5. Despite the fact that Little Lion Man regularly spits up all over every upholstered surface in my house, he is still fat and healthy and delightfully sweet-tempered.
6. The gas station by my house carries Bluebell ice cream.
7. While I don't like this new blog background, I *might* have gotten my comments section fixed.  You should check for me. ::hint, hint::

--Birdie

*Everybody should be able to have this.  Let's make that happen.