Sunday, September 19, 2010

Ch--ch...What's missing?


The darling little girl that sits in front of me most of the time greets me at the door today, all by herself. Not long ago the priest had her stand on the pew and asked her if she loved her dad. We all fell in love with her. I proceed inside and two young high school gentlemen sporting matching jackets are ready to escort me to a seat, but unfortunately I arrive too early to need their services. It seems like just yesterday they were little boys bringing crayons and Cheerios to church. There is a rustling of noise coming from the choir as they prepare to sing us into the present. An elderly gentleman gets help to his seat from what always seems to be an extended family reunion. They take up the entire pew. Sporting everything but their shin guards, a few of the 6th graders make it obvious that they have a soccer game right after church. The woman who sits in the front row to the left fills me with joy, as she always does, with her smile that lights up the entire 1960's modern church, despite her wheelchair and the need for an assistant. I look over at our pastor and wonder what wisdom he'll share with us today, as he explains something to the young new server. We all stand as the music director magically transforms this huge piece of furniture into beautiful and inspiring music. The man that always comes in late and sits in the front row, comes in late and sits in the front row. The family with six kids sneaks in as the last moment as well, and I'm thinking that if I had that many kids to get ready I'd be lucky to get there before the second reading. 'Better late than never' applies quite seriously here at church.

Do I ever wish I was still home reading the Sunday paper in my pajamas? Do I feel like I have no choice whether I go to church or not? No and No. And this I feel even before mass begins! I choose Sunday mass will all my heart and soul, because I choose to be a part of something much better than listening to the gloomy news in my cluttered home, or sleeping away my life. After all, how could anything compete with the sharing of the actual body and blood of Jesus Christ among fellow Catholics like that precious little greeter girl, or the elderly man surrounded with enormous amounts of love? The only sadness that sneaks into my heart is the empty pew where you used to sit. Then the singing begins, and my sadness returns to joy, especially as I remember what a priest once told me: "If God gave you a bad singing voice, then give it right back to him!" So I do…

Here in this place, new light is streaming
now is the darkness vanished away,
see, in this space, our fears and our dreamings,
brought here to you in the light of this day.

Gather us in the lost and forsaken
gather us in the blind and the lame;
call to us now, and we shall awaken
we shall arise at the sound of our name.

We are the young – our lives are a mystery
we are the old – who yearns for your face.
we have been sung throughout all of history
called to be light to the whole human race.

Gather us in the rich and the haughty
gather us in the proud and the strong
give us a heart so meek and so lowly
give us the courage to enter the song.

Here we will take the wine and the water
here we will take the bread of new birth
here you shall call your sons and your daughters
call us anew to be salt of the earth.

Give us to drink the wine of compassion
give us to eat the bread that is you
nourish us well and teach us to fashion
lives that are holy and hearts that are true.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

I joined the National Board of Mothers for Family Values Cinema

I was beginning to think I was the last parent alive that took an interest in what my kids were watching, as finding a family-friendly movie has become somewhat of a rather time-consuming sport. And winning really big is when you not only find a flick without 60 plus f-words and graphic sex or violent scenes, but a very entertaining one as well.

Apparently, there are other parents (you, of course!) that are tired of using "the blanket". As I mentioned in the post "The Blanket", Kids-in-Mind.com has been a great help in plucking out the weeds.

I've recently joined the National Board of Mothers in reviewing movies for Family Values Cinema. They have created a DVD movie club service that provides quality family movies with good morals delivered straight to your door. (I've added a link to the site; check out the free movie offer!)

So, I get the chance to feel a little bit like Roger Ebert and Dana Carvey as the Church Lady combined, and I admit, I kind of like it. When I score big and come across a great family movie, I'll be sure to let you know!

Monday, April 12, 2010

Over 2 million couples will file as married on this year's tax form,


for the last time.

____________________________________________


That is, until they get married again, and risk an even greater rate of divorce. (67%)

More people file for divorce the day after the federal tax deadline than any other day of the year.

The United States has the highest divorce rate of any country, by far.
(Sri Lanka is the place to go for everlasting love.)

The good people of Phoenix, AZ have a strange sense of humor;
the day they file for most divorces is February 14th.

I'll place a bet that I don't need to name the state with the highest divorce rate.

And last, but by far not least:

This year, over 1 million children will witness the division of their family,
and their worlds will change as they know them.

www.tamaraschmitz.com

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Mind, Body and Conscience Wars


On today's routine jog through the neighborhood, I stumbled upon a little change purse lying in the middle of the road. My brain's first reaction was that it was dirty, to let it be. But my body did not obey, and it quickly picked it up. Then my conscience butted in and asked, "What if there is money in that purse?" I quickly answered it, and said that I would put it back where I found it, in case someone retraces their steps in an attempt to retrieve it. Again my conscience persisted, "What if there is a rather large sum of money in that purse?" An image of a new coat popped into my head without effort, then an image of a grand beach vacation. "I didn't mean to think that," I told my conscience, while secretly, to myself I was thinking, "What would I do?" I turned the little purse around and it read "I Love My Dog!" I looked inside.

It contained dog poop, wrapped in a bag. My body kicked in again and swiftly tossed it back out into the street while simultaneously my conscience laughed it's smart little head off. I smiled for the rest of the jog, with the warm sun in my face, fully appreciating the poetic justice of life!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Write, don't call!


People who know me, know that if they really want to get my attention they need to email me. Contacting me by phone is usually a lost cause. I'll call them back in about a week. I loath the tele, and typically avoid it's use.

Unless I have a book proposal in to a publisher... it then becomes an accessory. I literally wear it.

However, when it rings, I really don't want it to be my husband informing me that he's going to be late for lunch. (Although it is very considerate of him.) Nor do I want it to be the principal calling to inform me that my son's been in a fight. I don't even want it to be my mom, (Mom- I'm just trying to be funny.) and I especially don't want it to be a sales call!

I want it to be the publisher with some cute little New York accent proclaiming that she loves my book. I want her to ask me how quickly I can finish writing it so that the world can be a better place.

Then, I can get back to the business of my life, which most definitely does not include the phone.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Writer on Steroids

After a wine-inspired and therefor enlightened writing session, I resolved not to rely on a drug to help me write. It felt a little as if I was an athlete using steroids.

I sit here now, however, with a very serious macchiato.

I always want to cry when I see how tiny a portion of a shot of espresso is. However, when done right, each sip lingers longer than it is dark. Its heat warms my gelid hands, enabling them to type. It's rich burnt-caramel color inspires a creative surge. It's caffeine awakens my writing moxie.

"It this allowed?" I ask myself.

Without any further ado, I sip, and write on.