To my devoted readership (whom – I think – is really just myself), I apologize for my lengthy blogging hiatus. I was heads-down, deep within a project for a client.
Noooo… while I really was working on a client job, that’s not why I didn’t write a blog post. The truth is, my husband was freakishly sick for 12 (looooooooooong, grueling) days.
I have been on vacation and generally running amok like a chicken with my head cut off. Shocker. Who the hell isn’t, right? During the amokness, I have been racking (or is it wracking?) my brain trying to come up with a funny blog topic. I’ve had a few false starts, but nothing really culminated into something I could proudly re-read to myself the next day (don’t pretend you don’t do this). Maybe the funny post hasn’t come to me because I needed to write something (dare I say it)…. un-funny.
Our parish suffered a terrible loss this week. Our beloved Deacon passed away. Before you click the “x” thinking this is not for you, keep reading.
Our deacon was the definition of what you wanted in your faith. He was amazing with children, loved them dearly, and not in a creepy way. He made everyone who came to the church feel welcome. Including people like myself, who would rather be ANYWHERE but church.
As I grow in my quest for ultimate domesticity, I slowly realize why my friends who have earned their Domestic Goddess wings (do goddesses have wings?) learned long, long ago. Why they sometimes many times have uttered complaints about the tasks around the house. The tasks that never. go. away.
My favorite illustration of what faith is comes from Raiders of the Lost Ark. You probably expected me to write about a great Biblical character like Abraham, David or Moses. But, it’s Indiana who is my main man when it comes to visualizing faith (not that he lived a more faithful life than those Biblical giants, it’s just my warped view).
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