Friday, November 20, 2009

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Nine days without my boss!

Is that uncharitable?  Unloving?  SIGH.  Probably so....

The other day she walked into my house.  Her refrigerator broke and she does not want to buy another one right now, so she brings her leftovers to my house and I am to bring them into work the next day.  So, I see my boss all the time and she calls me all the time and texts me all the time and now...she walks into my house, without knocking, without asking, as if this is her home, not mine.

This from a woman who is very hateful and abusive and just plain cruel to me.  She regularly threatens me with my job; she refused to let me paint my walls for past 20 months because she tells me all the time I may not be here long and she needs to consider the next person.  This far into my job, I still am not allowed access to the files from the woman who worked before me; I had to recreate the wheel on everything.  I am still not allowed to talk to anyone else in the company and when  I do I am punished.  She believes me to be very poor with the pen, unable to write anything worthy of reading...except for the work she had me do for her that she passes off as her own.  She blows up at me, often coming in from home angry and flinging her ire my way.  SIGH.

I did not like her walking in without notice.  This was not the first time, but now it is a freedom she seems to believe she has.  I do not want her to do so.

Now, I am from the South.  Well, Texas.  [I know many believe Texas is not the South; others believe it is a country unto itself.]  Back there, you stop by a friend's house, open the door, and holler a great big "Hello!" as you step inside.  If your friend is working, you roll up your sleeves and dive in to help.  Painting, laundry, dishes.  No matter. You don't have to make "appointments" to visit; you don't have the clean up the house beforehand; you don't have to trade visits.  You just enjoy each other's company.

Now, I heartily wish Pastor would just come on in on Saturdays.  Open the door, stick his head in, and holler as he steps inside.  Sometimes, I am so tired I would rather not get up off the couch, but I do want to learn..  I would wish Bettina would step on in when she comes.  Where my godparents or Pizza Man and his bride  or Pastor's bride ever to ever visit, the freedom of my home would extend to them as well.  But it does not extend to my boss.

What kind of Christian does that make me?

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I finished the first section of Kleing--only one more to go before I get to the one on prayer!

While I found it interesting that the last bit of his message on the mystery of Christ was the recommendation to have recordings of hymns so that you can listen to them outside the Divine Service and be reminded that we are part of the heavenly choir, singing with saints and angels, it was actually a mention of the weight of glory that caught my heart.

In II Corinthians 4:16-18, St. Paul uses a striking image to describe our spiritual state in this present life.  He contrasts the temporary weight of our troubles with the heavy eternal with of God's presence with us. He compares God's glory, His hidden presence in us and our mortal bodies, to a solid weight, a sense of heaviness or fullness that is far too big for us to contain.  God's glory presses in on us and pervades us, to the point of breaking us apart, so that it can burst out in us and from us, like a blaze of light.  Paul says,


So we do not lose heart.  Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.  For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen.  For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.


God's glory is like something that is so large and full and heavy that we cannot yet contain it.  So God enlarges us and remakes us, from the inside out, so that we will eventually be able to receive Him and all that He has to give to us in Jesus.  (81)

In the Large Catechism, while teaching about the Fourth Commandment (honor your parents), Luther writes, For it is a far higher thing to honor someone than to love someone, because honor includes not only love, but also modesty, humility, and submission to a majesty hidden in them.  (LC, Part I, 106)

I wrestle with this commandment, with what it means and how God would have me honor Him through honoring and loving my parents.  Parents who do not honor or love me, parents who did not care to keep me safe as a child, for appearance mattered more to them than my well-being.  I see no majesty hidden within them.

In reading this bit of Kleinig, I wondered if the hidden majesty Luther spoke of was Christ, and therefore he was speaking of Christian parents.  I am sure that it could not be as easy as that...as easy as saying the duty of love and honor falls not upon non-Christian parents.

But more so than my burden of honor, I found this passage instructive for the reference to that slight, momentary affliction.  I am in sore need of perspective, eh?

Last night, while in the shower, I sank to my knees and huddled there sobbing until the water ran cold.  Yes, the hair loss has slowed, but it is still happening.  Each shower, each brushing ends with more strands piled up one the side of the tub or the sink.  Yes, the nausea is better, but I still battle it every day.  Yes, the incision is better, but it still burns and stings and bleeds.Yes, but is all I have for God, for my Savior.  For six months of nausea and chills and fatigue and sorrow.  For fourteen years, I have battled pain and blurred vision and muscles weakness and confusion.  For a lifetime, I have endured the vileness of men.

And yet...these, too, are slight, momentary afflictions when your perspective includes the entire universe, not just your corner of the world.   I long for God to remake me on the inside.  For I know my sin and it grieves me so.

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I have been struggling to find Pastor's "food" for tomorrow.  In fact, I have read through 32 homilies or sermons since I arrived home from work.  Don't get me wrong, doing so has been an amazing blessing.  [How wonderful is the Internet!]  However, while I have learned quite a bit, I cannot find a sermon that fits him.  I only find ones for which his response would be...You should take heed, Myrtle.  That's a good one for you!  SIGH.  He has no need for messages on baptism, love, mercy or grace.  He knows those things!  Even the Luther bits I find are more for me than him.  It's sort of like handing him a Dr. Pepper when he really would enjoy Cool Whip.

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In the photo, there are two "collections" of ladybugs.  Not counting them, Pastor got it right!  Tit for tat!  We traded victories!  He doesn't want his prize, though.  SIGH.  I still want mine!

Bettina did as well.  She's getting a reading of Philippians!

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