Amy The Woozy

I’m fighting a bug, so the chances of this entry being coherent are not great. I wobbled into church this morning and they all thought I was hungover. “I wanna hang out with YOU on Saturday nights!” Tricia said. I would like to pat myself on the back and say that I completed my duty as Slide Runner with few bobbles, even though it felt my head was being squeezed by an Almighty Vise.

Right, so, thank you God, that the temp gig at the Unnamed TV Network lasted more than two days, that it did indeed last a week. Thank you for all the pilots I got to watch, and all the scripts I got to read. Thank you that they will be bringing me back for the week after Labor Day, even though it goes no further than that, because they’ve already hired the new person. Now if we can just fill up the coming week with other equally cool gigs. Rent’s due…

I worked a reception for a graduating class at Act One this week. I volunteered for bartender duty, (but this is not hungover sick, okay? This is sick sick. I coughed up something from the back of my throat that is truly of the devil, okay?) and made sure I poured all drinks generously, because I thought it would be funny to send everyone home from a Christian class reception tipsy. And it was. While the presentation went on inside the auditorium, the ones that were working the event stayed outside and watched. And at the end of the presentation, all the graduating kids circled around, and they all bowed heads and did a group prayer. We’re talking something like 80 or so people in one big amoeba blob, hands on each others shoulders, la la la. “I could understand why some people think Christians are weird,” said one of my co-workers, “Yeah. They totally look like they’re about to blow up a building, don’t they.” I responded.

Which is why I’m going to hell.

I had emailed Pastor Bernard (pastor doesn’t really seem like the right word to describe him. He’s way younger than the word Pastor would indicate. More like The Main Guy Who Gives The Sermon And Is Cool When You Incessantly Email Him.) some time ago. The question on my mind at the time was “I can't tell where the line is between being humble before God and having no self esteem whatsoever.” Pastor Bernard’s answer included, “I think the key issue is SURRENDER. because only in SURRENDER to God can we figure out how to respond to situations because my own gauge is usually off (then he talked about some other stuff and closed with) hope all is well in your world and this email is void of the platitudes you often adore :)”

Of course, Surrender is totally on my platitude list. What does it mean, what does it mean, we all know this chant by now, don’t we?

Some days, I wish I could just drink the Kool-Aid and not question anything anymore. Some days, it feels like if I just swallowed everything, nodded my head and smiled beautifully, then the Doors O Understanding would fling wide open, I’d be bathed in Holy White Light, and everything would be roses and Coffee Bean Chai Lattes.

It’s not like I haven’t been surrendering. Sure, I have. It hasn’t been pretty, it involves a lot of arm waving, F-bombs, stamping of feet, “FINE! You know so much, YOU drive!” But then I wonder what kind of surrendering would look pretty. Oh, the Kool Aid kind, of course. I sink to my knees, the picture of penitence, hands outstretched, the choir kicks in the background, I surrender allllllll. I surrender allllll. Allllll to Jesus, I surrender. I surrender allllll.

I think what bugs me about the Surrender thing is that if I engage in it, it automatically requires a response from God. “Go ahead and drive, then.” And we’re not going anywhere.

Oh yes you are.

No I’m not.

Oh yes you are. You’re just not going fast enough. You’re questioning the speed, the direction, you wanna know the end destination, and you want all of your questions answered RIGHT NOW. It’s not that I’m not answering. It’s that you’re not liking the fact you have to wait for the answers.

Oh…you. You little….whatever.

I love the headline on one of my buddies’ Myspace pages. “Faith is a journey with a compass which points us in the right direction, not a detailed map which tells us every step to take."

I think everyone is smarter than me. Well, except for you. And maybe…you. Kidding!

Enforced Secret Joy #48: Ray Charles’ version of “Somewhere Over The Rainbow.” Brings me to tears most every time I listen to it. It’s got that old timey feel to it, like it should’ve been in a Disney movie (Classic please, nothing before 1980.)

(and here's where I posted the song, and it worked fine last night, and it doesn't work today, so the only place I could find it is to this montage of Disney Critter Movie moments. Listen to the song, forget the images. Sheesh.)