Do you think Heaven is gonna look like Pottery Barn? If so, I AM READY LORD...

Pottery Barn sends me their catalog. Not because I ever ordered anything, I think it's because they know I really, really wish I could...

Perusing the pages of Pottery Barn makes think there is a life of loveliness. Pure, unadulterated loveliness. Every page fascinates me----do people have living rooms like this? Do they own lots of books and glass jars...and no dust? No cat litter boxes, no dirty kitchen towels? No dusty plants? No piles of junk mail?
Ahhhhhh Pottery Barn, you lovely, lovely vision of how I want to live. 

So I got to thinking, if God has created the people who produce Pottery Barn, the people so talented, so creative, so imaginative that these uber-talented people can make me swoon and convince me that buying a $1700.00 sofa would make my life ever so lovely....well imagine how Heaven looks? I mean, well, God is the creator of the creators of Pottery Barn, right? Soooo, that means Heaven is gonna look AWESOME. And, so while I am studying Pottery Barn and daydreaming, I somehow manage to configure God's role in it. I don't know why...but I see God in Pottery Barn. Or rather I see Heaven in Pottery Barn. 

I can't afford Pottery Barn. I also can't afford to sin. I do sin, but lucky for me, I am afforded grace and mercy. You see, I really, really want to end up in Heaven.

And I am hoping it's gonna look like Pottery Barn. Only better, 'cause I am in it.

It just occurred to me---do I only love God 'cause of his house?....oyyyyy that's not good. I got to think about this.

And pray about this. And maybe stop staring at catalogs.....

I'm a Hater? I'll show you hater.

I was called a hater tonight. At my small group. The new one. The one I was nervous about starting. Yeah, that one. Why? 'Cause as I was getting a high-five as a goodbye, and said hey: Hi Five Rockstar....lol and he answered...."you're a hater. You're a hater".  I'm like what?.....I'm a Lover, not a Hater. Besides, I like you.

Wow. I am a hater. Aw, he said he was just busting on me, to which I replied, yeah, you are Italian, so that seems about right. ( I am Italian.) Ahem, I said it because I am also Italian.

The funny part was 10 minutes prior, myself and two women were praying for each other, and one said to me, God will test your will. You are praying to rid yourself of getting easily offended,
so be prepared, you will be tested. You will be tested.

And then BAM, ten minutes later I'm a hater comes out of some guy's mouth as a joke. Me being the butt if it. Was I offended? At first, hell yes. Did I think of the prayer we just prayed about God testing me. Heavens YES! God works FAST!!

Let me be perfectly clear. I am not a hater. A dweller, yes. A self- deprecating, sarcastic, blunt, Larry David, Louis C.K. loving woman....yes...no denying that.

But a hater. No, I love C.S. Lewis, Tim Keller, Joyce Meyer and Ann Voskamp even more. 

I am layered like an onion; like Shrek. 

Not Christianese. Not saccharine sweet, not a fluffy, squishy kisser upper. Nope.

And as the Pastor said tonight during prayer, God loves each one of us, just as we are. (Mr. Darcy also said that to Bridget Jones, just sayin').

So I figure God is testing me on how not to be so easily offended. And it's working.

'Cause I am not a hater. And I don't hate him for saying I am. I don't hate anybody.

Thank you God, keep testing me, molding me, so I will NEVER be offended again.

PS: No offense to the guy I am writing about....  

New Small Group: Water to Wine (must be 35 or older to attend)

I am starting my own new small group. In my head of course. It's called: Water to Wine. You have to be over 35 to attend, NOT a hipster, not even particularly affluent or attractive. Just someone who drinks water or wine, loves the Bible and that's pretty much it.

Any takers?

I didn't think so. As I start a new church small group next week, I am always a little scared, a little excited, and a little weirded out. I don't what to expect. What mix of people will be there...why do I care? I am there just to study the Word.

But I am also there to establish relationships with other Christians and that is sometimes VERY hard to do. Cause I don't fit the mold. Not that I should fit any mold. Jesus sure didn't. Neither did his disciples, but in our society we want to fit in. And be liked. And be invited places. And feel community. We are designed to feel connectedness and no where more I pray that Godly prayer than in my church. Community in my church. A tough one. 

My Pastor preached a few weeks back about how a member of my church asked to leave cause he wanted to be with more humble people. HUMBLE PEOPLE. That blew my mind.

So as I begin my new small group next week, I will be thinking: am I humble? Am I welcoming and friendly to everyone, even the hipsters...should there be any? Am I loving the ones who seem the most unlovable? The invisible ones? The socially awkward ones? 

Or am I gonna play Christianese and smile, work the room, try and be funny, and just skim the surface. Put my two hours in, bake brownies, close my eyes when we have prayer and wonder what the Modern Family premiere was about and then leave. 

I sure hope not.

Also hoping my Water to Wine theme catches on.

10 Things I Hate About You ( metaphorically speaking)

1. Your technology sucks. I became so accustomed to using my daughter's laptop (MacBook) that you pale in comparison. Why did I buy you? Why didn't I just spend $1000.00 or so more and get something I can actually use and like? Oh yeah that's right, I didn't have the extra dough. Dangit.

2. You're a liar. You tell me your gonna get back to me and help me rectify the situation. You sound sincere. You sound genuine. Then we hang up and I NEVER hear from you again. Blast you and your customer surveys...which by the way I cannot WAIT till the next time your centralized survey center calls my cell and asks me to rate your service. YES. Vengeance is mine.

3. You think I think because I am Christian, I think I am like Jesus.
 I'm not Jesus, NOT even close. One of the greatest lines uttered in the movie, White Oleander. And yes, this line comes in real handy in everyday situations. Just because I'm Christian and striving to be like Jesus, I have absolutely NO consistent Jesus-like external qualities at ALL times. And neither do you. None of you. Notaone and that means you.
 
4. You're treating me as though I am invisible. We've seen each other several times, been introduced and at first I used to make eye contact and half-smile, but you averted your eyes one too many times and therefore I am either invisible to you, or I am wearing the Romulan cloaking device. Yeah, Star Trek rules. Original Star Trek. The one with William Shatner.

5. You conversationally inadvertently plant a reference about your degree from your Ivy League School as though you were Andy Bernard from "The Office". Please. Dwight Shrute wasn't impressed and neither am I. In fact it makes me think you are probably not nearly as smart as you want me to think you are.

6. You suck when it comes to sticking with the plan. You get scared and totally flake. Things get fouled up. People get disappointed. And by you, I mean ME.

7. You smell bad. You are NOT a Yankee Candle. You're just some cheap imitation of what's supposed to be Cinnamon or Vanilla or Hazelnut, but I might as well just pour my flavored coffee creamer into a bowl, light a match and sniff. Voila. Again, you are NOT a Yankee Candle.

8. You won't go away. I was just trying you out as a template on my blog (ethereal) sounded so cool, and now I have peach- colored birds flying around my picture....ahhhh. I can't get rid of you. I have called in reinforcements.

9. You're not medium brown. I put you on my head, cut my bangs too short and end up with The Perfect Storm. Just say you're dark brown. Stop saying you're medium.
 
10. You offer nothing. You are filled with empty promises, I turn you on and the next thing I know I am agreeing with Vickiwhoever and phoning my bff to swear about how mean the other women are to her. Or I am actually witnessing someone shoot an alligator and I like it. Or watch people bid on other people's crap or and this is a biggie: I stop my husband from turning you off, cause I really need to see how Brody helps Bruce...oyyyyy. Not good and I am actually paying for you?

So there it is. Metaphorically speaking, 10 things I hate about you. (which happens to be a really great teen flick with a great soundtrack). Hey, I found ONE thing today I actually like.

Things are looking up.

Can I Get a Witness? True Story # 3

We've known each other since 1981. While sitting on the beach with one of my oldest and best friends, I tried to explain what having a relationship with Jesus is really about. Man, did I do a really, really bad job.

She started asking me questions, like...."well, what you mean Jesus answered all your prayers, isn't that just life working itself out.." and I'm babbling....ummmm, yeah but I just love Him so much! Then I REALLY started : There's a hole in me that no food, no pill, no wine, no man, no friend, no nothing can fill like Jesus....and you know if you were like really into knitting.....you'd wanna join a knitting club, right? So that's why I go to church, 'cause I wanna be with other people that love Him so much, like me.
And I am not afraid of death, ok, yeah, maybe still a little...but this Alpha course I took, blah, blah, blah...I was plummeting. It got so bad I started to sing, (which I absolutely should never do in public anyway since I have no tone whatsoever) and she said I sounded like an old woman, which was hilarious but didn't help and then I declared to her I would happily kneel on this beach, RIGHT NOW and exclaim to the everyone how much I love Jesus.

And then she's asking me about small groups...and I'm promoting small groups, because she really doesn't know what they are about and then I say: well, NORMAL people go...it's not like that....UGH.

And she concludes with "but maybe everything you went through in your life, Maria, maybe that's why you love God, you and your kids and all that divorce and stuff... and you're still kinda screwed up, ....so...uhhhhh...anyway, where's that Pottery Barn Catalog you brought?"

Oh whatthe......I mean, you had to be there.

I blew it. My one in, my chance to tell one of my dearest friends about the Love and Grace that only comes through Jesus. She's never asked before, I never tried to Bible thump or push anything down her proverbial spiritual throat...And there I am, the woman who can debate and shoot the crap for hours about literally anything just drops the Jesus ball. Man.

I have never had such a clear, intimate opportunity to evangelize...and it all came out like crazychristiantownusa.

I needed help. But I didn't ask. I just kept trying to expound to her about the Bible, how it's the one true word, how it calms me down when I am all riled up about whatever...how everything in the Bible is actually coming to fruition, and blah blah blah...crazychristiantownusa.

I do not know how to witness. I do not know how to evangelize. And I am gonna learn. 'Cause the next time God gives me a perfect shot at telling a friend or family member about Him and His Son and the Holy Spirit, and grace, you can be dangsure I ain't gonna be comparing it to a knitting club...

And I am NOT going to start singing. Not Ever.

RANT LESS. LOVE MORE.

When am I going to stop ranting? I need to be gentle. But when I read somebody's status that bugs me....ummm I rant.

Love me a good rant. Ain't even gonna lie. Especially when I think I'm right. Even better is when I know I'm right.

I just rant on and on, feeling justified in my self-righteous opinions and well researched facts which end up equaling: a RANT.

Inevitably I feel bad after my rant. I realize I need to be more gentle. More kind. My well-honed opinions of pop culture and topical news could be delivered in a softer, less sarcastic way.
I gotta start trying harder. I gotta rant less, love more. Ok, new MANTRA: rant less, love more.

One problem, zizzle, these opinions of mine. Um, they wanna bust out like pin-size hole in a water balloon....phrewwwwwww..and out they come. Like when I read a status from teachers who are off all FREAKIN SUMMER and then they start saying....aw, gotta go back to work, summer's over...and they get like a hundred likes...and I am bustin'..I am just bustin' to leave a sarcastic comment...."poor you, aw, you were home or on vacation for 8 weeks...aw, that ain't right...."

I write it. Then I delete it. Cause I wanna be gentler. And being gentler is hard for me.

And because I like alot of these people. When the rant starts, I lose sight of who is reading it. I forget that the teacher who may have posted this status could actually be someone I like. Ouch.

I realize how gentle God is with me. He knows me. He knows how easily and sharply I can attack. And He still loves me. Ouch.

He knows I feel bad afterward, even when I am just thinking about the verbal attack, that one I may not post, but am still entertaining the stinging thoughts swirling in my brain...He knows. And He still loves me.

But don't get me wrong, I believe God gives ME a good old fashioned RANT whenever He sees me acting up...ohyeahHEdoes. He calls me out. 

Calls me out---I was abrupt with someone, like that lady today....and her beautiful, round eyes brimmed with tears, then I teared up...and held her hand, told it was going to be ok, I would help her.

Ok so, maybe with some work, I will become more Gentle. RANT LESS, LOVE MORE. 

QUICK SOMEBODY, LET ME POST MY NEW STATUS....at least for today....

Truth or Christianese? True Story #2

Christianese. This is a term my daughter, may or may not have invented, but she used it, defined it (to me) and you know what? I saw the truth in it.

The more I delve into Christianity, I see a transparency; light, filmy pretty lifestyle, that would merit the term "Christianese".

Journaling, pinteresting, mommy-blogging, pretty people with shiny white teeth, and pretty jobs, all loving the Lord, praying and meditating on the Word. Thin, comfortable, educated and compassionate. Oh, so compassionate. 

Does that sound truthful or envious? I don't know. Maybe both. I am fascinated by these people. I met a slew of them at a Women's Conference in a beautiful, manicured church, which looked more like a resort than a church, really,...anyway there were everywhere. I was there too, waiting to hear the charismatic woman/author/blogger Christian speaker.

She was great. Funny and beautiful, spot on with the mommy jokes. Down to earth. She had that whole Sandra Bullock from the Blind Side schtick goin' on....southern, sassy, well you know, Sandra Bullocky....

I bought her book. Hey, I wanna be like that. I wanna be Christianese. So I'll buy the book. I waited in line to get it signed. Cool. Gonna meet the beautiful, funny, down to earth, bible- loving author, and maybe her Christianese will rub off on me and I will be gentler, thinner, more feminine, develop a Southern accent, and fly all around the world, showing down to earth women like me that they can be Christianese too. Wow. Doin' it.

Well my 10 seconds with her came and went. She asked me my name, and as I stood 12 inches in front of her, I suddenly got a weird feeling, like I was waiting for someone or something which wasn't real. Her beautiful teenage daughter was behind her, and as I stared at her (the teenager) with her pageant-like beauty and as I heard myself saying my first name and blurting, "you're funny, I like it". It was if I was giving props to a really good comedian. "Hey dude, your stand up was awesome tonight"....

That doesn't feel like God. That doesn't feel like Grace. She was great, she was entertaining, but there was a truthfulness missing. Or maybe she's been speaking at too many engagements, way too much.  It was missing the RAWNESS of Grace, of God, of Salvation. The RAWNESS of the Crucifixion, the RAWNESS of the Resurrection, the RAWNESS of Jesus.

I think Grace and Salvation are so RAW that yeah you can be funny and polished, but then again maybe you shouldn't?  Maybe Christianese isn't what God wants. Jesus wasn't Christianese. He hung around with the not so pretty people. The gritty, unlovable, people. The whores and tax collectors and lepers and the poorest of the poor, and the least educated. Truth.

And all the while, I am looking to be Christianese, I know in my gut, that's not it. That's not me. That's not Grace. I don't even think it's Christian. I don't know, I just want to know Truth.

Don't Hate Me Cause I'm Beautiful...True Story #1

I attended Temple University around 1979, just around the time when Punk and New Wave music was making its mark. I loved it. What people now call Goth, whatever, we called Punk. I wasn't into Sid Vicious. Yikes, no way. Too scary. But I did love New Wave. The kinder, gentler Punk. I wanted to look like JoanJett/Blondie/ChrissieHynde/PatBenetar....bad ass enough, but not heroin user- killer look nonononono.....I also aspired to have Jon BonJovi's perm. Big hair. Big perm. Enough makeup on my face to look like I was auditioning for Cats. Oversized, mens' jackets I bought at thrift shops and I would then cover (jackets) with pins collected from New Wave shows....Elvis Costello, The Ramones, The Clash, all of them. All over me.

Back to Temple. Anyhow, while sitting in the auditorium style classroom for my Psych class, a few rows in front of me was this jock. What can I say? This big, blonde, hulky, white bread, corn-fed, letter wearing jacket jock. And every day he would turn his head and give me the hairy eyeball. Every day. Now just because I was from SW Philly doesn't mean I wasn't a scaredycat. 'Cause I was. First though, I was angry, like HEY JOCK, stop giving me the hairy eyeball! Then I would think oh jeez, I am wearing so much makeup and crazyhair and crazyjackets, this jock is gonna jump me. And hurt me. But days would go by, he would turn around at the beginning of class every day and stare at me. Hairyeyeball and all.

One cold winter day I was walking to the subway station after class, and who sidles up next to me. Ugh, that mean jock. Crap. I am literally shaking, not from the cold, but from what's going to happen next. When, he opens his mouth, I am thinking, 'ohboyherewego', but he turns to me and says, quote " You are the most beautiful girl on this campus". Unquote. What??? Hairyeyeball waspy blonde loving jock thinks punk, ala new wave girl (me) is beautiful??? And the most beautiful girl on campus??? Temple's campus?? (Temple was mainly a commuter school in 1979, but there were alot of people) Alot.

Stumped, speechless. Someone thinks I am beautiful. Wow.

I didn't know God then. Not really. Not the way I know Him now. I didn't have the good self esteem thing going for me either. So I was stunned. And beyond flattered. And we dated briefly, but I ruined that... self sabotage...That can happen when you don't see how beautiful you are through the One who created your beauty. You ruin good opportunities, good relationships, good everything when you don't know your beauty, your worth. Your worth because of and through God.

So now I know. And guess what? I am beautiful, 'cause my Father made me that way. Thanks Dad.

I Feel Ya

I talk to people all day long. Mostly about their problems. Sometimes self-imposed and sometimes happenstance. The people are usually confused, frustrated, angry, depressed and anxious by the time I answer my phone.

Sometimes I answer and I am the one who is all of the above..

Sometimes, I get the opportunity to talk to people that have been thrown a curve ball, and I mean a crappy curve ball;  lost their job, lost their spouse, lost their health, and yet, don't bemoan their circumstance, of course they're not happy about it, but they are grateful for any help I can give..in any way. And even if that help is just me picking up the phone, listening to their sad/bad circumstances and letting them rant, me relating to their situation, maybe even making them laugh or maybe even letting them cry. We do both.

It's usually then, when their grateful attitude brings me to tears, quite often actually. Usually they don't know it. Mostly because we are talking on the phone. So I can hold it together, hold back. I do what I can then I am obligated to move the work along. No time to keep in touch.  I have spoken to some folks face to face and some over the phone, many I will never forget. It's like God put me there to meet them, hear their story. Feel their pain. And through feeling their pain, heal mine.

 I've received many thank you notes over the years, but two stand out, funny and touching, both authentic and intentional. One said: "Mr. C-------; Please be happy."

They spelled my name wrong. And clearly they thought : a) I was a man, which happens quite often with my husky voice, and b) I am not happy...? Did I reveal a secret suppressed unhappiness? They included a picture of themselves surrounded by a lovely park-like setting. This note is hanging on my drab, gray cubicle wall. It's a keeper.

The other note is from a woman around my age and to paraphrase, it simply states: "even if at this point, if I can't get any other ..... then thank you for being you. You are one of a kind."  The notes like this one bring on the tears.

I feel their gratitude, their love. Hope they feel mine.

Maria, Full of Grace

Maria, full of Grace.

I am Maria and I am full of grace. You can be too.

Well, you can't be Maria, but you can be full of grace. God's Grace.

All you have to do is admit you are a sinner, and ask God to come into your heart, and that's it.

Done. Graced.

Ok, here's the rub. You are graced and blessed when in reality you really have no right, whatsoever, to have such tender mercies bestowed upon you. Hence, salvation and grace. And for that reason you have to stop acting the way you were. And by acting I mean sinning. And by sinning I mean over-drinking, over-eating, over-talking, over-judging. And this is hard. 'Cause we don't think we are over-anything most of the time, 'cause we just plodding along lalalalalala...God loves me, I love Him, lalalalala.

I have done most of these things plenty of times. Drank too much, smoked too much, ate too much, judged too much....and I sometimes still do. I am not proud of it, but I am not gonna lie or hide it. And I don't want to keep repeating it. 

I do it because I am not feeling the grace I have been given. I let how I feel dictate how I behave. Big mistake. I have already been graced, but if on one particular day I'm not feeling it, I just behave badly. Knucklehead. Once you've been graced, it's done. Don't let your emotions lead you to believe you are not loved, or not graced. His Word is His Word, whether you feel it or not. Actually, feelings have absolutely nothing to do with God's grace.

So like I said earlier, you can be graced too, you are loved immensely by the One who made you. You and I may wake up feeling empty, but we are still full of grace. 

No matter how I feel, I still will ALWAYS be Maria, full of grace... so, right before that glass of Moscato hits my lips and forks full of cake go flying down my throat and right before I chime in about something or someone...Grace, Maria, Grace. 

You're full of it.