Well, It's Not a Coconut!*

A friend suggested it as a possible topic for a blog post, and I have to admit, I probably would never have thought to write about joy on my own. Even though just seeing the word written there brings a smile to my face and a wave of peace through my heart, I'm not sure I have what it takes to write about it. I am more likely to grumble than to notice opportunities to praise God, and I check my e-mail more often than I pray. Nevertheless, here follow a few of my thoughts on the subject.

Joy.

I can't really say the word  without thinking of St. Seraphim of Sarov. Overflowing with the love of God, he called everyone he encountered "[his] joy," seeing them as they were created to be, icons of Christ Jesus. "On the Acquisition of the Holy Spirit" quotes him as saying, "The Spirit of God fills with joy whatever He touches," and that our joy-filled encounters with the Most Holy Trinity are still merely "foretastes" of the life to come: "...[I]f they fill our souls with such sweetness, well-being, and happiness, what shall we say of that joy which has been prepared in heaven for those who weep here on earth?" He reminds us that there is joy here even in our suffering, and that makes it possible to begin, even now, to live in a place where all sickness, sorrow, and sighing have fled away.

This icon is avaliable for purchase here.

Joy.

In the Holy Gospels, Christ Jesus uses a metaphor to warn his disciples against false prophets; He says that we can identify a tree by its fruit, and that a diseased tree cannot produce healthy fruit. St. Paul echoes this idea in the fifth chapter of his epistle to the Galatians, calling joy a "fruit of the Spirit," visible evidence that a person is working in unison with the Most Holy Trinity. Furthermore, The Precious and Life-giving Cross is often called "tree," not only synechdochially (i.e., because it was made of wood), but also because it is the mystical fulfillment of the prototypical Tree of Life. As Christians, we choose to become grafted into that tree, to be crucified with Christ Jesus; yet, we also will bear its fruit, which is the joy of the Resurrection. If we commend ourselves and all our lives--even (especially) our suffering--to Christ our God, we ought to have that joy always before us. That is how we can "rejoice in the Lord always" (Phil. 4:4).

The Cross as the Tree of Life**

Joy.

One of the greatest blessings of my life has been seeing how joy fills my children. They are all sweet and wonderful creatures, and each of them brings joy to me in their own way, but right now I am thinking especially of my five-year-old daughter, whom I frequently describe as "ebullient." She is almost always smiling, bouncing, giggling, hugging, sharing. (I'm not kidding. She'll even smile and laugh right after she's thrown up.) Especially at church, when she is reverencing the icons and lighting her candles, she can hardly contain herself. It's all she can do not to hop up and down all the way up there and back, with a smile beaming ear-to-ear. Some of that is the energy of a kindergartener, but mostly, I think it's genuine, 100% pure, heavenly joy. She reminds me to look for joy everywhere, even in little things. I forget that every moment can be an offering to God.

What about you--what are your thoughts on joy? Have you ever encountered a truly joyful person? Have you been able to find joy in your suffering? How do you look for joy in your everyday life? I invite you to share your thoughts in the comments section below.

*For those of you who have no idea what the title has to do with this post, here's a video.
**This image, found online, is cover art for this book. 

Privacy and Personas

So, I haven't written in ages. But it's not for lack of trying.

Well, not completely. I've started 2 posts and have them both pretty close to finished, but I've honestly been a bit too drained to wrap either of them up. I've had a lot going on, and also just needed to take some extra time to rest. Hopefully just putting this up tonight will help me get over the hump.I think I'm going to keep this one a little more casual than usual.

I guess I struggle a little bit with trying to decide how much I'm comfortable sharing, and with whom--what my privacy settings need to be, which social media sites get to know my full name, etc. The more anonymity I can have, the freer I feel to let loose and really share. I'm thinking now that I've quit facebook, and therefore no longer share the link to this blog over there when I update, most of the people who drop in here will either be people I trust or people who have no idea who I am. I think that will probably work for me.

I made the decision to leave fb once they rolled out the ticker. Now, they make sitewide changes all the time, and while I find them mildy irritating, I usually just roll with them anyway. But the ticker was a huge problem for me, because I had put a lot of effort into limiting exactly who can see exactly what when it came to my posts. The ticker put the choice of what is seen in the hands of the other people, not in mine, so pretty much anyone on my "friends" lists could now see ALL of my comments on other friends' statuses and photos as I made them; while it was possible for them to see these things before, it would have been much more difficult for them to see unless they also commented on the same item.  I also wasn't entirely sure whether people I don't know would be able to see my status updates or photos if a mutual friend commented there, despite my settings. The only private place left was the private message, and that kind of takes the joy out of having conversations about specific items.

Anyway, none of this might have been such a big deal to me if I were a different person. But the person I am is one who made the painful and nerve-wracking decision recently to cut off contact with my emotionally unstable mother and my enabling and manipulative father, and who had only very limited communications with them for years before that. The person I am is one who just simply doesn't trust everyone, and who doesn't like everyone she knows to know everything there is to know about her, even if they're not lunatics. While I'd rather not be out-of-the-loop when it comes to birth announcements and wedding photos and news of friends' week-long hospital stays, when it came down to making a choice between missing all of that important social information or feeling like it wasn't safe to share any information of my own, the person I am chose the former.


Now, I have been spending more time over at g+, and I did just join twitter (what!), and I certainly am under no illusions that either of those sites is perfect when it comes to privacy, either. But I should still be able to keep up with at least a few people. If you know me in real life, look for me on one of those sites, or shoot me an email, or leave me a message here. I might also be willing to learn to use the telephone.


I really hate the telephone.


But I digress.


Anyway, I guess my main focus over the past several months has been trying to figure out exactly how much contact I'm comfortable with from people who make me uncomfortable. And what it's come down to is: Pretty much zero. But learning that--and making the changes I needed to make--has given me the most peaceful 6 months of my entire life. And now, I think I may be ready to write again.

The Death of a Sinner

I guess it's not surprising that the American news media seem so excited to report on the demise of Osama bin Laden.  After all, he is responsible for a great deal of damage to the United States, and we've been hunting him for quite some time.  It's understandable that this important news would take over the air waves.  News of a military victory is something that Americans would want to know during a time of war.

But what does surprise me (though it shouldn't, since I can remember how we reacted to the execution of Saddam Hussein not that long ago) is the unabashed jubilation over another man's death.  And for this to happen in the world--for an enemy's death to be considered a victory to be celebrated--well, I guess even that isn't terribly shocking.  But it's happening among those who profess to follow Christ.  It's happening among even the Orthodox.  And that should not be so.

In the Church, we are given daily reminders of what the attitude of the Most Holy Trinity is toward people like Mr. bin Laden.  For example, every Sunday, as we prepare to unite ourselves to Christ through the Mystical Supper, we recite certain prayers.  And they are not meant to provide only a transient state of repentance, preparing us only for that single spoonful of sanctity, but also for an eternity of union with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

St. Basil the Great gives us one of these prayers, in which he uses the words of the prophet Ezekiel and the Apostle St. Paul:

. . . For, O Thou who lovest mankind, thou hast said, by thy Prophet, that thou hast no pleasure in the death of a sinner, but rather that he should turn from his wickedness and live. Thou dost not desire, O Master, to destroy the works of thy hands or that they should perish, but willest that all men should be saved and come to the knowledge of the Truth. . .

So, how is it then, that any of us, knowing this, could be glad that another human is dead?  It does not please his Maker, Whom we claim to love.  Likewise, it should not please us.

St. John Chrysostom gives us another preparatory prayer, which begins:

I believe, O Lord, and I confess that thou art truly the Christ, the Son of the living God, who didst come into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief[emphasis mine]. . .

It's that last part where most of us stumble.  It's easy to recognize that Christ Jesus loves mankind, and even not too terribly hard to see that we are all sinners.  But when it comes to saying that I am the chief of sinners--the worst of the worst--more despicable than Adolf Hitler, more wicked than Osama bin Laden...well, that's difficult, to say the least.  But if I am willing to adopt that attitude, it will be possible for me to learn the mercy of Christ Jesus, who died for us even while we were still sinners (Rom. 5:8).

This mercy teaches us to love our enemies, to pray for those who persecute us (St.Matt. 5:44).   Heaven does not rejoice at death; heaven rejoices at repentance (St.Luke 15:10).  Death is never a good thing.  No one who claims to follow Christ should ever celebrate it.  Instead, we must pray.  We must pray for the souls of those who suffer death.  We must pray for those whom they leave behind.  We must pray for the state of the whole world, that we may all be moved to repent.  Whether he brought his death upon himself, or whether it was somehow necessary in order to prevent him from committing future devastating acts, is irrelevant.  The first thought of any Christian, upon hearing the news of Mr. bin Laden's death, ought to have been, "Lord, have mercy on his soul."

But, even if it wasn't, it's not too late to start.

Good Fences

Last summer, we got new next-door neighbors.

They can't really help it that they have the same last name we do.  And they didn't know us when they decided to give their daughter the same name we gave ours a whole year earlier, so that they actually have the same first AND last names.  So we'll just call those things weird coincidences that couldn't be helped.  We'll forget for a minute that they've enrolled their daughter at the same neighborhood preschool we go to and they take her to the same doctor we go to, so that now every time I call those places, I have to be prepared to give a date of birth or a teacher's name so that the staff doesn't accidentally look up the wrong records.  Let's forget about those things, since it's really my fault for giving those places such stellar reviews when they asked us for recommendations in the first place.  But even if I don't blame them for those things, I think they're the kind of people who just might think all of those things are awesome enough to have done on purpose.

They have no boundaries. Don't get me wrong, they seem like nice enough people.   They're friendly, and that's great.  But I'd like to keep it at friendly without being friends.  I like having my own space.

I don't want them ringing our doorbell three or four times a week because their little girl wants my little girl to come over and play.  I don't want their daughter racing up my stairs as soon as I open the door, and if that happens I'd prefer it if the mom at least batted an eyelash about it.   I don't want the husband coming over every couple of weeks because he's anxious about how to care for the wonderful old live oak we share, or asking if we noticed the bushes that cover our utility meters have been trimmed. (Um, yeah, because I TRIMMED THEM, and only the ones on MY property that were blocking my access to my water meter.) 

My daughter likes theirs, and I'm happy they can play together outside in the front yard, but I'm sick of them inviting my daughter inside to play, and I'm sick of my daughter telling me she wants to invite theirs over.  I've allowed both a couple of times, but frankly I don't really want to babysit their 3-year-old for them, and I don't really want to invite the mom in to visit so she can watch her, either.  A few months ago, the mom actually asked if my daughter would be interested in coming over to spend the night.  She's four.  Even if I didn't have huge trust issues, that would never happen.   The people who used to live in their  house had a little girl, too, only a couple of months younger than my daughter, and we never had this problem.  So, I've been saying "no" a lot lately.   And trying to explain to the kids why I don't want them to answer the door. 

I get the feeling they let their daughter do whatever she wants most of the time.  For example, our preschool gets people to come to the Scholastic book fair by setting up an art show alongside it, with our children's art available for purchase.   Each teacher signs up to be there at a certain time during the evening, and the kids try to go at that time to play with their classmates and show us their art.   We always go, because who can resist the immortalization of our babies' handprints in tempera?  Well, on the Tuesday of the fair, they came home from school and told us they'd already been because their class slot was kind of late and they were worried it would interfere with bedtime.  They asked if we'd been yet, and I said we planned to go later.  My daughter admired the book theirs had bought, and we went our separate ways.  So imagine how perplexed I was when, later that evening at the book fair, their daughter runs up to us and says hello.   When I saw her mother, I mentioned it was a surprise to see them.  "Oh, she kept talking about how she wanted to go to the book fair with [my daughter], so we decided to come back."  We were already done, so I just said I hoped they enjoyed the fair, and we left.

Now that's just creepy.  Right?  Who lets their preschooler stalk other children?  Don't reasonable parents say things like, "Ha! NO?"

And then there's the dog.  He's some enormous mixed breed that she bought at a shelter when she was single, because she wanted some protection while she hawked rugs on the side of the road.  (Which she still does, by the way.  So, the next time you're on the highway, and you see the person with rugs hanging from the side of her big white van, and you wonder what kind of person might decide to do that for a living, wave.  That's my neighbor.)  Anyway, this dog bolts out the front door any chance he gets and proceeds to mark all of the neighbors' territory as his own.  One day she got tired of calling for him and decided she'd rather not chase him.  She turned to me and said, "Haha, I hope nobody minds if he's running around the neighborhood."  I told her about our leash laws and let her know that somebody (me?ahem!) might call animal control if she doesn't keep him on a leash when he's outside.  I guess that scared her enough to keep him inside, because I've only seen him get out without a leash once since then, and she actually chased him down and took him back inside.

I've been wondering if the HOA will let me build a picket fence along the property line of our side yard.  Probably not, since I haven't seen one anywhere else in the neighborhood.  But it would've kept the husband from pulling the oak sapling that was growing in my yard--and believe me, I am sure it was my yard--while he was weeding today.  I noticed it last week.  It was in a perfect spot--not too close to the house, not in the middle of anywhere we like to run with the kids, and actually in a part of the yard that could have used a good shade tree.  As I looked at it this morning and thought about how much it had grown in less than a week, I thought about involving the kids in a project where we'd measure it every few days and chart its growth.  And then this afternoon, it was gone.  And the neighbor was outside on his knees in the grass, with a big pile of weeds beside him on the sidewalk.  I confronted him about it, and he admitted he pulled it and seemed contrite that he had not paid attention to whose yard he was in.   And while I'm willing to forgive him, I don't feel badly about letting him know I was annoyed. 

But as one of my dearest friends pointed out to me last week, it could be worse:  it could have been my parents who bought the house next door.  But that's a story for another time.

Please, pretty please, leave me a comment below.  What are things like with your neighbors?  Are their people in your life that just don't get personal boundaries?  Let me know what you think!

Today Is the Beginning of Our Salvation

Sometimes, when a friend mentions how she just can't wait for her mom to visit or how they're best friends and love doing everything together, I get a little sick at my stomach.  I mean, I think that's great for them, it's just not my experience.  The sound of my mother's voice makes me want to hide under the covers and never come out.  Her touch feels intrusive, like she's a parasite trying to suck something out of me.  So the concept of having a good time with my mother is foreign to me, just as the idea that I could be a happy person without talking to my mother for three months often makes no sense to someone else.  So, I don't really bring it up much unless someone asks me about it first. 

Growing up, it really never even occurred to me that other people's mothers didn't yell at them for hours at a time or call them terrible names, that their parents didn't spend their evenings screaming and cursing at one another, that their mothers didn't burst into uncontrollable tears for no predictable reason and then blame them for it.   I felt like a failure as a Christian and a daughter for constantly making mistakes and disrespecting my mother, for never being good enough to make her happy.  I thought it was my fault she acted the way she did, even after I started to realize her behavior didn't make a lot of sense.  I was well into my twenties before I was able to accept that I had grown up in abusive home.

It's taken a lot of work to learn how to deal with that, psychologically, spiritually, and practically.  And I'm still learning.  I am deeply grateful to Christ Jesus with giving me what I need in order to heal, including a supportive husband, a prayerful priest, understanding friends, and sacramental grace.  But I think one of the most important things He has done is to share His own mother with me.

I don't really know that I would be able to articulate how wonderful she is without writing several pages, and I really want to keep this shorter.  I will just say that she is everything I need a mother to be.   The New Eve is the greatest example of what it can be like to allow The Most Holy Trinity to transform us into Their likeness.  Where the corruption of this world results in people who live in a constant state of turmoil, she is peaceful.  While humanity is vengeful and abusive, she is patient and tender.  She prays for us, weeps over us, and protects us.  She wants us to grow and guides us towards her Son.  Even though I don't have a perfect biological model for how to be a good mother, I have the Theotokos.   She is a great source of strength and comfort to me.  It helps tremendously to know that the first person to ever say yes to the incarnate Christ is still around saying prayers for me and my children.

Today we celebrate that moment when the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, when a young Virgin made our salvation possible.  On days like today, I begin to understand the joy my friends feel when they think about seeing their moms again.  It feels right to walk into the church to honor and celebrate her, and to thank her for all she has done for us as she participates with the Most Holy Trinity in the restoration of humanity.  It's really nice to have such a beautiful and wonderful mother.

Icon of the Annunciation, from www.oca.org

Troparion for the Annunciation

Today is the beginning of our salvation,

The revelation of the eternal mystery!

The Son of God becomes the Son of the Virgin

As Gabriel announces the coming of Grace.

Together with him let us cry to the Theotokos:

Rejoice, O Full of Grace,

The Lord is with You!