CountryTime has hit an all time low for my small family. Hubby went out of town yesterday and ended up crying in the car because someone in this church actually said he was sucking the fun out church. This person is upset because people no longer feel free to form a kick line in front of the altar rail during service LIKE THEY USE TO because Hubby is TOO liturgical. A KICK LINE...IN CHURCH....What the hell???!!! Who in the world of the Powers that Be thought my World's Most Expensive Seminary trained ordained minister Hubby who believes in the 2000 year old tradition of church and the reflective spirituality of the sacraments would fit at a kick line church. Next time we sing and everyone raises their hands to God, I am going to yell out "JAZZ HANDS!!!!" and see what they say. And no, that's not the only reason he was crying, but that's a good example of what he puts up with and how it's crushing him.
E cried for 30 minutes last night because she is clashing with the daughters of the old school families in her class. She will never be fully accepted at her school because we are not one of the chosen few. She has friends, thank goodness, but the Children of the Corn, I mean Chosen, torture anyone who is not CountryTime Inbred Blue Bloods. What a small world they live in.
I cried because he cried, because she cried and because the sense of entitlement and refusal to take responsibility for oneself in this town has worn me down to dust. Today was a dark day in the Muddy household. I keep telling myself it is just 8 months. Just 8 months, less time than a pregnancy.
So in my darkness I decided I needed to push myself and I went to work out and kicked my own ass. Before the workout I stepped on the scale (at 5:00PM) and I actually weighed 1 less pound than last week. ONE...Heck, I'll take it and be proud of it.
And lastly....the woman whom I wrote about last week who had gotten stuck in the machine was there. She was there and working out (although she stayed away from the offending machine.) I think I just about peed my pants when I saw her. I needed for her to keep going. I don't know why I felt that way, but I was glad she hadn't given up.
8 months...just 8 months.
10 comments:
It's beautiful when someone passes along affirmation to another person as simple as,"I believe in you...good job...keeping on trying."
That lets us know that we are not alone.
L.
It's too bad your family can't stay away from the offending machine (the church) since it is the hand that feeds you. But if you can take hope from that lady, go for it. Eight months can be a lifetime, or it can go by in a flash; I'm hoping for the flash for you and yours.
What is a "kick line"? I don't understand.
What is a "kick line"? I don't understand.
Muddy, I will be sending you peace and love and all the extra self preservation points I can in the next 8 months. Circle the wagons, take care of yourself and your family.
/ dw
A kick line is what the Rockettes are famous for. The church band does a song that has a Jewish feel to it and apparently, whenever the song was played prior to our arrival, a group of men would stand in front of the altar rail and do a kick line to the song.
A kick line in front of the altar? I wish you were kidding, but I know you're not. sigh! Our priest (yes, I'm Catholic) has a wonderful sense of humor and makes me laugh every week, but even he would be appalled at a kick line in church during services.
Where do they come up with these things? I hope you're keeping a journal so you can write about it after you move. Should be a best seller.
The sad thing is-my hubby has an incredibly wicked sense of humor. One of his sermon titles was "Goats go to heaven, Sheep go to Hell". He dressed up as a woman at our last church during a contest and he believes there is a place for frivolity in church. But no one has taken the time to try to talk to him about how they feel and if he doesn't know, he can't ease their minds.
I think that was actually Sheep go to heaven and goats go to hell.
Muddy water makes us stronger. I believe in you, all of you to succeed and leave foot prints in the sand (or mud)that are capable of touching lives in a good way, even if you can not see it now, it is happening! Vent and let it roll off of you like leaves in the fall. Then walk back in with a smile and let them wonder what you have been up to ;)
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