You can now find me at esthergood.com.
Looking for something? Here are some popular posts:
DIY Wall Map
Part II: To the Conservative Christians Fighting for the Integrity of the Church
Part I: To the Progressive Christians Fighting for LGBTQ Rights
Thank You: Taking Off My Facebook Face
Dear Fred Phelps: Thank You and RIP
Lessons in Parenting #1: How to Put Down a Sleeping Baby (without waking them up)
God Loves Fred Phelps
On Wednesday, Fred Phelps, founder of the notorious Westboro Baptist Church, passed away. While Westboro Baptist Church was made famous by their message of hate, I believe Fred Phelps and his clan have been one of the greatest driving forces of unity in mainstream Christian culture.
I’m going to confess something that you might not know about me. I am a killer. Before you call the police, let me just say that (except for the rare pet fish) my transgressions have been primarily against life of vegetative variety. I have never successfully kept a plant alive. When I went to college, my friend gave me the hardiest plant he could find, but I killed it anyway. And very quickly, I might add.
“So, um, these carrots…”
“Have been murdered, yes.”
Tenth grade was, without question, the worst year of my life. And of all the trials that were bestowed upon me that year, high school gym class was among the worst. I think few of Dante’s nine circles of hell could compare to the awkward chaos that ensues after a room full of coed adolescents have been told to “find a partner.” It’s especially bad if you’re a painfully shy introvert who has just been transplanted from the other side of the planet.
Broken (Image credit: photodee / 123RF Stock Photo)
I want to thank everyone who read my posts last week. I am especially thankful for those who offered words of encouragement or gentle disagreement. It has taken me a long time to be honest about my beliefs, and I know I’m not alone in this. There will always be a few people who seem fearless with their opinions, but the rest of us tend to be wary of opening ourselves up to criticism. I prefer to put on my Facebook Face, and show the world a recipe for organic kale chips (even though we’ve eaten pizza three times this week), and a picture of the kids taken at an artistic angle (because that’s the only point of view where you can’t see the piles of unfolded laundry.)
Image credit: maigi / 123RF Stock Photo
The views expressed here are my own, and are not necessarily those of my family or friends. This is part two of a two-part series in response to the ongoing conversations at Eastern Mennonite University and Mennonite Church USA about how to live with our LGBTQ brothers and sisters.
Dear Conservative Christians,
I am speaking as someone who understands that you see changes in the church’s acceptance of homosexuality and believe that they reflect a weakening of regard for the authority of God’s Word. I know how important this is to you, and I know you are trying to do the right thing.
I am speaking as someone who believed, until a few short years ago, that the practice of homosexuality was wrong. I am speaking as someone who changed my mind. Let me be clear: I am not trying to persuade you of anything. I only want you to understand me.
Image credit: lovleah / 123RF Stock Photo
The views expressed here represent what I believed in the past, and are not necessarily the views of my family or friends. This post is part one of a two-part series in response to the ongoing conversations at Eastern Mennonite University and Mennonite Church USA about how to live with our LGBTQ brothers and sisters.
Dear Progressive Christians,
I am speaking as someone who understands that you are trying to fight for the dignity and rights of your LGBTQ selves, family, friends, and fellow humans. I know how important this is to you, and I know you are trying to do the right thing.
I am speaking, not as the person I am now, but as the person I was a few short years ago. I am speaking as a conservative Christian who believes that the practice of homosexuality is wrong. Let me be clear: I am not trying to persuade you of anything. I only want you to understand me.
Disappointingly fine toes.
We got a new (used) dryer. Our old one had a bad habit of chewing large holes in our clothing and took four to six hours to dry a load of laundry. These indiscretions might have been overlooked, but the otherworldly sound it made was unforgivable. Think of fingernails on a chalkboard, only the dryer is in the basement and this could be heard on the second floor of the house. So “fingernails on a chalkboard” on steroids for four hours. It had to go. We replaced it with a happy little dryer that makes a gentle hum as she works. She can dry a load of laundry in just one cycle. I love her.
The only way to get her where she needed to be was via the stairs from the garage to the basement. They are treacherous and dark, and I’m pretty sure I recently saw them featured in a horror movie.
So, this is what I looked like this weekend.
Poorly Drawn Face
It came about because I had agreed to do face painting for an event at Yohannes’s office. The day before this event, Yohannes said, “Hey, do you want to be a clown, too?”
This is not quite as bizarre a question as it might first seem. You see, of the many things I have gotten from my mother (like taste for cilantro, and my aversion to leaving the house) dressing up as a clown in one of them. But I didn’t have time to drive all the way to her house to pick up the clothes and makeup, so I decided to just buy a cheap costume the morning of the event.
This, as you might have guessed, was a mistake. I grabbed the first (and cheapest) makeup I could find, and let’s just say the results were a little more “scary clown” than I was going for. It reminded me of this card my friend Heidi got for my friend Matt. Twice.
Poorly Drawn Head
Despite the bad makeup job, most of the kids were happy to have a clown paint their face. Lily was not one of those kids.
“You’re not my mom!”
She refused to make eye contact with me through the entire event, and only let me hold her after about two hours of coaxing. But once I was back to my normal self, the whole family enjoyed playing clown, including Lily.
Happy
He’s a natural.
Every clown needs a kazoo.
Quotes
Nati: “Mom, today can we go to the hottest planet ever so I can see how scary it is with its thunder and lightning?”
Me: “Sorry, honey. We can’t really go to other planets yet. Our spaceships aren’t good enough.”
Nati: “Forget it!”
.
.
.
Oh, wait. Did I forget this picture?
Yohannes
I took a hiatus from the blog so that I would have more free time to spend staring blankly in frustration at another writing project. Fast forward a year, and I finally have a second (or third, or fourth?) still-very-rough draft of that project. It’s not the kind of progress I was hoping for, but enough that I am willing to allow myself the small pleasure of writing here again.
A list of things that have happened since I last wrote:
1. I wrapped up a number of work and volunteer positions in Lancaster, PA in anticipation of
2. A move to Allentown, PA in September of last year. Because of said move,
3. We bought a house. I like it. It has 4 bathrooms, so the stomach flu was much more bearable for our family this year than last year when we had only one.
4. In December, I finished the premed program I had started in January 2013. It is nice to be done with that.
5. In January, Nati started pre-k. He loves it…except on days when he makes a valentine for Emiline and she tells him she doesn’t want it.
So there you have it. Five things have happened since last year. From now on, I’ll keep in mind that I should only plan on doing five things per year. That was plenty.
Pianos make good footrests.
Nati quote: “I don’t want to be anything when I grow up. I just want to be Nati.”
Dust Of Africa 