The Simple Joys of Life: Saturday, July 2, 2011

I hate blood.  Can't stand it.  I see a bloody nose and I recoil in horror.  Same with a broken bone or an arm twisted out of joint.  Needles make me squirm internally and a visit to the dentist raises my blood pressure into dangerous territory. 

My kids laugh at me all the time about this.  But it doesn't fare well for them when I am the only parent in the house.  If Felicity (4) gets a bloody nose, I will holler at the top of my lungs for Renaya (9) or Laura (7) to grab some Kleenex and do what they do best - pick up after dear old dad.  Its actually quite funny to see the poor sap with a bloody nose double over in a fit of giggles.  I take the mockery in stride.

On Saturday, the chance to get even fell into my lap. 

My gorgeous wife had to go to grab some perennials from a foreclosed property and left me alone with the kids.  While making lunch, I grabbed the sharpest knife in the house.  All the kids know that this knife can be a great substitute for a Husqvarna chain saw (which I don't own because I'm too cheap) in a  pinch.  I nonchalantly flashed the knife in the air so they could see I was about to use it.  Then, when their attention was elsewhere, I opened the fridge and hiding behind the door, grabbed the bottle of ketchup and squirted it all over the back of my hand.  I rubbed it around then hid the hand behind my back, closed the fridge, rinsed the other hand off, then slunk over to the counter to slice up whatever it was I was slicing up.

I noticed Laura was eying me suspiciously so I sliced for about 60 seconds until someone bumped into her and she had to issue a good slap-down.

The moment was perfect.  I hit the knife on the counter, dropped it on the floor and let out a yowl that would raise the hair on every neighborhood cat for miles around.  Holding my "bloody" hand in the air, I ran screaming into the eat-in kitchen yelling, "CALL MOMMY,  OH CRAP, CALL MOMMY.  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!"

As if on queue, Laura, Frederic (6), Felicity (4), and Jack (2) burst into tears and started wailing.  Renaya just started bumping into things, running in circles yelling at me that she couldn't find the phone, not really looking that well anyway.  Analisse (1) just stared in horror.  I kept yelling and wailing, letting some ketchup drip onto the floor.

Renaya yelled, "I CAN'T FIND THE PHOOOOOOONE!!!!!!!"

I yelled back, "I DON'T CARE!  FIND IT NOW!  I NEED MOMMY HERE RIGHT NOW!  AAHHHHHHHH!!!!!  THIS HURTS SO BAD!!!!  OOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!"

Renaya and Laura disappeared and I followed them into the office.  When I came around the corner, Renaya was still running into walls, falling down, desperately looking for the phone in every place that it wasn't.  Laura on the other hand was crouched on the floor, head in hands, shaking uncontrollably.  Then, Renaya took another look at my hand and immediately burst out laughing.

She told me later that the rubbing marks of my fingers gave me away.  I laughed and laughed and the kids quieted down and got the joke.  A few of them slapped me on the back to release their pent up fear the best way they knew how.

Laura, on the other hand, was weeping.  Tears were running down her cheeks.  She got the joke but it wasn't funny.  She had been scared out of her wits, thinking that maybe, just maybe, she would lose her dad right in front of her face.

Oops.

I scooped her up in my arms and gave her a big bear hug, kissing the tears away and rubbing the rest of the lines of salty water off with my shirt.  She wept on my shoulder for a few minutes and then was saved by mommy walking through the door.

I realized then that it took me pretending to be mortally wounded to discover that my standoffish daughter really loved me.  There are better ways to discover this truth and I intend to find the alternative next time.

A Little Blog Lovin'

I have consolidated all my posts into the tabs above.  This will make it easier for my ten readers to navigate who I am.  All my critics will be able to utilize the information they haven;t seen yet, to further marginalize me in their minds, to their friends and family, and those they control.

For all the rest of you, I hope the new-ish format makes for easy and exciting reading.  If you get tired of religion, go to my "On Politics" page.  Once tired of heavy stuff, go to my "Daily Life" page for fluffy flowers and bunnies.

Whatever you do, have fun!  And please become a follower and comment at will.  I love disagreement and anger, as well as agreement and joy.  In truth, I need affirmation or I wither away.

Enjoy!

By the Way, I'm Not Gay

***WARNING******WARNING******WARNING******WARNING******WARNING******

The following post is VERY controversial. In ways, I find that unfortunate. It is the raw scrapings of my heart and if you read it, you will discover the real me and more than likely will write me off forever due to the shocking reality of my despicable morality.

***WARNING******WARNING******WARNING******WARNING******WARNING******

I wrote a post about a week ago that mentioned many reasons that I was no longer a “Christian” as defined by that non-exhaustive list. The list included important items like who God is, who Jesus Christ is, whether or not Jesus Christ is singularly sufficient, and much more. It even included odd-ball items like not needing to eat organic foods, homeschooling, and in a later comment, tithing.

I received about half-a-dozen comments in private and in public, affirming many of the items. A few follow-up comments required some clarification on my part.

The idea I was trying to get across was that, for the rest of my life, I will be seeking the truth of who God is, whether God is, who Jesus Christ is, the basic nature of faith, how my faith fits in with the basic nature of faith, how to treat other people, how to view the Bible, and, among others, what is truth and what is fairy tale about heaven and hell. My point was that I did not have to, nor should I be required to settle on a certain creed or creeds so that others could validate my status as a “Christian”. Or, said in a different way, all Christians have different walks in life while the common defining thread connecting us is our belief in Jesus Christ.

What shocked me was the private and public disagreement on one item on the list that seemed to me to be a non-foundational issue. “Shocked” may be a poor choice of a word, keeping in mind the current sociopolitical discourse.

The item was: “If being a Christian means that I must believe that homosexuality is wrong, I am lost. ”

That's it. The thing is, I'm not settled on the answer and I never intend to be. If I do decide it is wrong, I'm going to be forced into some sort of life flip-flop every time I talk to or hang out with some of my dear friends who are gay. I'm going to have to have that nagging, gnawing feeling every time I approach or chat with my gay relatives. If I decide it isn't wrong, I will be alienating many of the people I love. In fact, the issue is so important to some, that they may reject me as a legitimate human being – one that cannot be trusted or easily dismissed as foolish, regardless of the wisdom of my words on related or unrelated subjects.

So, I rest in the gray area of, “I don't care.” I don't! It doesn't bother me one bit. I see it as a person liking ketchup on eggs, rather than mustard. It doesn't define a person for me. In fact, I have never been asked why I am a heterosexual or even been given the thumbs up for passing a “Christianity” litmus test of liking the opposite sex, rather than the same sex.

But, let us, for argument sake, say that being gay is sinful. With that premise, I am going to tell you something you didn't know about me to prove that being a heterosexual deserves a higher status in the eyes of those who deem homosexuality as the unforgivable sin.

• I have uttered thousands, perhaps millions of swear words. And no, not when I whack my thumb with a hammer. I have yelled them at my children, used them in names for my children when they did not do as I asked, used them against my wife in arguments – to win some stupid battle that seemed important at the time. I have yelled them at The Minnesota Twins, politicians, bad drivers, excellent drivers, police officers, pastors, parishioners, patriarchal types, people who disagree with me, my siblings, my mother, my father, relatives, the weather, every one of my vehicles, stinging bees, skunks that jump into my lane and lay down on the road in perfect alignment with my front passenger tire, neighbor's dogs that go to the bathroom on my lawn, people who write better than me, people who don't swear, people who tell me not to swear, those who say swearing is healthy, parents who spank, those who write me off as a bitter young man, my dull razor, the alarm clock, children throwing up, and so much more that I have forgotten.

Repulsed yet? You should be. I am a horrible person. Sure, I'm working on my mouth, but, at the moment it defines who I am. But people consider me a good person, worthy of heaven – and a person who is gay – not so much. A good person? What good person yells at children, using horrible language? What good person calls his wife names when he is losing an argument? WHO DOES THAT???!!!

I have and still do, at times.

Frankly, if anyone was deserving of hell, it would be me. The argument of “It's not the static sin, it's the LIVING in sin that is at issue so you're ok, but a gay person is not,” falls flat because, after all, who is living in sin more than me? Maybe not the swearing part, but most definitely HOW I swear and who I project the words toward.

Maybe you rate sin. Swearing is only half bad. Homosexuality is horrible. If that is the case, I challenge you to send me a list of your sin ratings and I will check off EVERY SINGLE ONE, except for homosexuality, divorce, and physically cheating on my wife.

But, there is a catch. I will be using measures that we find in Matthew 5 – 7 during Jesus' sermon on the mount.

Jesus looked at the Pharisees and acknowledged that they were following the law. But then, he said, “But I say to you...” and then he revealed the true purpose of the law. Never having murdered was most excellent and deserved the awe and respect of their fellow man. But, hating their brother? Never having committed adultery was awesome. But, so much as looking at a woman to lust after her? Yes, the law was a base standard that man could prove on the outside that he was perfect. But God cared about the heart condition. And, keeping the heart condition clean and non-depraved was impossible. Jesus said, “Be perfect!” And, “If you break one law, you've broken them all.” And later, “He who has never sinned, let him cast the first stone.”

Assuming homosexuality is a sin, I am convinced that the standard must be that we should do as Jesus so succinctly said: “All the laws and the words of the prophets can be summed up by loving God and people.”

As I stated above, I don't care to put a label on the morality of the subject. I have way too much invested in people to let a little thing like their lifestyle choice get in the way of some of the best friendships I could ever ask for. In fact, to put it in perspective, my gay friends inquire about my marriage and my love life all the time in normal conversation.

And never once have they judged me for being a heterosexual.