203/365 Inner Thoughts and Filters

There are like, 6 people reading this. Maybe more--there's a woman in Portland who belongs to a UCC church there who may have spread the word. I get 70-100 hits a day over at South City but this is definitely a niche market.
And I use pseudonyms, although long-term readers or folks who know me "in real life" know exactly who Astrid and Hildegard and Lynn are. I occasionally get an email asking "ok, who is ____" and I fill them in. I write with pseudonyms because I sometimes say things that aren't 100% sweet and nice. I sometimes wish I started that long ago on all my blogs, but it would be hard to keep up the facade. Here it works because it's so specific: parish life.

I love my parish. It is intertwined in my life in such a way that there's no way I can leave at this point. As much as I have troubles with Catholicism, it doesn't matter. My parish has ruined me. I can't go anywhere else. A long time ago I thought I was convert material but it turned out I was just looking for the right community. I found it here.

Things change and especially an organization that is bound only by the words "I belong" changes. Nobody is stuck in our parish the way you might be stuck in a neighborhood or marriage or demographic group. If you don't like the parish, you can move up the way to several different Catholic choices, and there are plenty of non-Catholic options, too. People stay because it brings them life in some way. Sure, there are probably people who aren't self-reflective about why they're in the parish (duh) but if they were truly unhappy, they'd either get involved to try to change things (like my mother-in-law, who stays in her parish against all possible odds) or they would walk away to greener pastures.

I used to say things, in general, like "for right now, this is right for me," or "this is what works for now." In regards to not just my parish membership, but where I lived, where I worked, where my kids went to preschool, and so on. Things aren't permanent but this is what is good now.

The last 3 years or so, since I became an oblate, things feel more permanent. Leaving would take so much energy and so much wasted time. You can't grow olive trees in one summer season. You have to plant them for your children to raise.

So when I complain about doing "Jesus' laundry" or get aggravated with people who sit on committees with me or realize with guilty dog looks on my face that I haven't watered the plants all week and they're probably dead now--it doesn't have to do with church. Like everything I write about, frankly, it has to do with me. "Look how I screwed up again" could be the title of every blog I write. Of every entry. Of every letter I send, every phone call I make. Because that's where the story is, in the details of mistakes and annoyances and little victories. And, like Miguel said the last time I went to confession, it's hard to live under a big tent. There are folks who belong to my parish that I think I wouldn't miss. But maybe I would. What would I say? If everything was wonderful and perfect and I loved every moment, well, what good is it to love those who love you? Obviously you do that. And what good is it to write about things that are 100% "right" and perfect? It makes a better story this way. And I am so in love with our story.

I want to raise olive trees, not just cucumbers and tomatoes.