I make lists. Some days just the act of sitting down and writing out the list feels like an accomplishment. I used to try to keep track of these things on my phone, in fact, I have at least three apps plus the notepad and the calendar to keep my stuff together so to speak. It works, for a little while at least. But there’s nothing like the piece of actual paper and the hard plastic of the blue ballpoint pen in my hand. I just feel better writing that list. And I feel better c
I woke up feeling anxious. It happens like this sometimes. I go to bed feeling fine. I sleep well. I might even stumble around after waking for a few minutes, getting my bearings, drinking my coffee, noticing something but unsure what it is exactly I’m noticing. Then it strikes me. I am feeling anxious. I examine my calendar, my commitments, my conversations from the day or even the week before. Nothing jumps out as the cause. Sure, I have a lot to do. Don’t we all? But it’s
First, an explanation— for the last two weeks I have pondered about a post. I made this little pact with myself when I began blogging, lo those many years ago, that I would never post just for the sake of posting. I broke that one month a long time ago while laboring under the mistaken notion that there was some secret formula to keep people reading. It was after that month of posting every day on MrsMetaphor.com that I discovered the ugly reality that there is an awful lot o
I love baked goods; that’s no secret. I love them, but I can’t live on them alone. I mean, if I were starving and all there was to eat was an endless supply of say, cupcakes, then, of course, I’ll survive. I think I dreamt that once. It was a good dream. But given the choice (and that’s the operative word here) I’ll have my brussels sprouts and my lean proteins and then once in a while when I’m feeling particularly inclined, I’ll have my cupcakes and I’ll eat ’em too. Food is
About 10 years ago, I could not drive past a Starbucks without stopping to buy a cup of coffee. At that point in my life, the number of children in my household was increased to four and the number of sleep deprived nights was compounding at a rate that any IRA would envy. But it wasn’t the tiredness and stress that led me into the store and the line, sometimes with all four children in tow, it was a kind of odd habit. I’m tempted to say it was an addiction but that would be
(on fasting and failing) Let the mouth also fast from disgraceful speeches and railings. For what does it profit if we abstain from fish and fowl and yet bite and devour our brothers and sisters? The evil speaker eats the flesh of his brother and bites the body of his neighbor.
—St. John Chrysostom
The Lenten journey is not about what you cannot eat. It’s about what you pray from your heart while fasting and God daily feeding your spirit. —Subdeacon Michael
Choices can be good. I like having choices. The only trouble is that some days it feels as though there are no choices. It’s all Coke or Pepsi. It’s the illusion of choice. It’s all caramel coloring and high fructose corn syrup dressed up in a different bottle, color scheme and marketing package. Now, choosing between tofu and cupcakes? That’s a choice. I don’t like tofu but I ate it anyway on Friday. I ordered the vegetarian version of something delicious at a Thai place whi
For if you forgive men their trespasses,
your heavenly Father will also forgive you.
But if you do not forgive men their trespasses,
neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.
-Matthew 6:14-15 In the Orthodox tradition Lent begins like wading into water. We spend time transitioning from where we’ve been to where we want to go. We spend a week preparing to remove meat from our diet, offering prayer and awareness and culminating in the feast of Meatfare. The following we
Transitioning to the Orthodox practice of fasting during Advent has been a bumpy road to say the least. I sat down this weekend to make a list of the meals I prepare that my kids actually like and eat without whining and you know, every single one of them has meat in it. It’s a sad commentary really. I’ve tried all kinds of recipes and all kinds of spices. I’m already a mediocre cook at best, so it never goes well on this front. All I have to do is say the words, “Black beans
I have a habit of asking “why.” I’m convinced that a big part of the length of my three years as a Catechumen was due to this habit. It ought to be noted then, that when the prompt for today came down the pike from Fr John Peck at the Preacher’s Institute it was a stretch to not question the thinking there. Canned goods. Was it just a whim? Was it something deeper, hidden, divinely inspired? Why canned goods? It did trigger something in me though. Cranberry sauce. Honestly, g