American Woman

Got the radio on: American Woman. My CPE supervisor rode my "behind" yesterday. He said I didn't write what he asked me to write. I know. I didn't know how to write it. (That's why I pay him the big bucks, to challenge me)So I have had it reassigned. Sigh. Then yesterday morning, one of the priests at my church chastised me on a morning when I did not do anything. Well, I set up Mass. But I kind of think he just woke up angry with me. Never quite know with priests...or fathers...they get up on the wrong side of the bed and the best thing to do is get out the door quickly. Nothing good going happen here today.

I have been "corrected" on many things, but this time...was interesting. I was asked to not sing when I was a lector. I smiled at him. I didn't take it personally. (Look at me, all growed up!)And I said fine. I told him I am always afraid with music. It terrifies me. I know I have an exceptional gift on the piano (not as a vocalist)...and a different priest (gentler, younger) once encouraged me to share my music. For me, singing is about prayer. It is not about perfection. I suspect something else was going on. Well, it was just interesting to understand his theology. I would not have expected his theology to be this way. But I learned something new today. Another day, I would have walked out. Another day, I might have cried. But I know, I have learned. The words that come out of a person's mouth say much more about him/her that what they actual words might mean. There is always subtext. Catching it, hearing it...is sometimes hard and definitely tricky to expose.
That's why I try so hard to surround myself with honest people. Save the bull and the southern hospitality for others. Tell me the truth or go home. Or perhaps I will get bored and fall asleep. That's not good because, even when people are misrepresenting themselves, they are telling you about themselves. It just takes more work to see.

So Father rode my...case... in the morning...and then I got to the hospital and my supervisor did his job. He told me I had more experience than anyone else attending and if I didn't want to learn why was I there. I was calm. I was not defensive. (I think!) And he pushed. You have got to stop defining yourself by what you are not, Cindy. You need to decide who you ARE.

And I retorted, "but that's all politicians do. They never say who they are, they just rant about how they are not like the other guy." He just looks at me.

Yes, I surround myself with smart people.

You can surround yourself with adoring fans. You can surround yourself with people who fear you. You can remove from your presence anyone and anything that does not agree with you. You can buy your position in life. You can marry it. You can shut out all the ugly, walk over Lazarus and only listen to "right" notes and words.

And you can think you are the best thing God ever created...or you can think you are God himself.

Or you can live in this world. Warped, flawed, disappointing, unpredictable, capricious, dangerous, sometimes alone...

And in the struggle, you can find joy, fulfillment, ecstasy, triumph, skill, beauty, connectedness.

Being perfect isn't all its cracked up to me. Looking like everybody else is just plain boring.

I am a woman. I am a priest. I am a confessor. I am a consoler. I am a pastor. I am a friend. I am child of God. I am a lover. I am a mother. I am a teacher. I am a sister. I am human. I bleed. I cry. I dance. I sing. I pray. I love.

Because He loved me first.

Who are you?

Love, Cindy