ella_menno

I am shaking very hard. It is difficult to type.

I spent a long time - years, really - searching for the "true" religion.

In the 8th grade, I was confirmed in the Lutheran church. During my interview with the pastor, I was asked why it was necessary to attend church services.

My answer? "It isn't."

I then explained that according to the religion as I understood it - as I had been taught by Sunday School teachers since before I entered kindergarten - what mattered was a person's personal relationship with Christ. That, to me, meant that there was no need, no requirement for a Christian (or, at least, one identifying as Lutheran) to attend services.

Given the pastor's reaction to my answer ("Of course you need to attend church! Because....um....."), I thought that perhaps I'd better go looking for a religion that made some sense.

From ninth grade through my junior year of college, I studied churches and religions. Read about them, attended services offered by a variety of denominations. And then I studied some more.

After this time, after reading about the Reformation and the (many) reasons for it, I still came to the conclusion that the Catholic church was, truly, The Church Christ Established. The papacy was founded by Christ and Peter was the first Pope; all the moral laws, guidelines, requirements were in place for a reason. Granted, I personally might not understand the reasons: yet I was okay with that.

Again, to my way of thinking: as a parent, I tell my kids not to play in the street. It's a rule, and one I expect them to follow. When they get old enough, they'll understand why, the reason - but until they do, I simply expect them to obey the rule because I KNOW BETTER.

God is my Father; therefore, I will listen to him, even if I disagree with the rule. Which is overly simplified, but was the way I felt about God's authority.

And as I believe(d) that the Catholic church and its administration - the Pope, the Vatican, the bishops - were the true representatives, the human face of Christ on Earth, I obeyed their teachings. Even if one (or several, or many) of the Church's priests and bishops were wrong, or did wrong, or covered up for their brethren who did wrong, I still felt the institution itself - the Church - was right. That it was the "highest earthly authority in matters of faith, morality and Church governance."

I attended Mass. Matter of fact, I was at Mass on Friday (First Friday devotions, you know.) I work at a Catholic school. I send my three children to Catholic school.

And now there is this: A senior Vatican cleric has defended the excommunication of the mother and doctors of a nine-year-old girl who had an abortion in Brazil after being raped [by her stepfather].

Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re, head of the Catholic church's Congregation for Bishops, told the daily La Stampa on Saturday that the twins the girl had been carrying had a right to live.

I can barely express how this makes me feel. Sick, physically sick. Hurt. Embarrassed. Stupid. Wrong. Betrayed. Violated.

Oh, and angry. Very, very angry.

How can I go to work tomorrow? How can I continue to send my babies to a school that is governed by these kinds of people?

How can I call myself Catholic anymore? And why - please, God, tell me why - would I want to?

Some hodgepodge, both fandom and otherwise, that’s accumulated in my brain.


1. HP: Not that I've written in, oh...forever, but I've got a bunny. Have a seat, I'll tell you about it.

It'd be a happy little gen piece featuring post-book 7!successfully-defeated-Voldemort!Harry. He pops around to talk with also-survived-Voldemort-and-is-now-happily-married-to-Tonks!Remus, because he needs advice on proposing to Ginny.

You see, our poor Harry can’t ask any of the numerous male Weasleys - you (and he!) know full well that at some point, the story of “when Harry needed advice on women” would come up around the Christmas tree. He won’t ask Hermione, either, because this is a guy thing, darn it -- not that he’s usually like that! Of course not! -- but for some reason he would be like that about marriage stuff. Not that he could talk to Hermione about this anyway, as she and Ginny are so close now, and one has to suspect that said information would get back to the potential bride to be.

Harry would be tentative, and though Remus would have a fairly good idea of what the poor boy wanted to talk about, he wouldn’t want to push. Tonks would wander into the kitchen, which would, sadly, stifle Harry’s conversational skills even more. Now, Tonks isn't the socially inept ninny so many authors insist on portraying her as, so she’d make up a completely scurrilous excuse about having to leave the house RIGHT NOW on some ridiculous errand. Isn't she sweet?

Anyway. At this point, Remus would realize that certain people - ahem - are simply more comfortable conversing if they don't have to look someone in the eye. Remus mentions a little pub down the way where they could shoot some darts (and can’t you just see the two of them playing darts?) until Harry finally gets around to asking Remus about marriage in the wizarding world. Sure, Harry had been to the one wedding, but he’s wondering if there are any traditions he’s unaware of regarding the actual proposing of marriage - see, he loves Ginny, and he very much wants to do right by her and her family. And yes, he knows full well they’d excuse any faux pas he might make, but the point is he wants this to come off perfectly. Just this one thing, just this one time, mind you.

I've wanted to read that story for the longest time. *sigh* I suppose I'll have to try to write it someday....

2. SV: I don’t read spoilers – I try to avoid them, for the most part *glances furtively at celes720* – but I’m here to throw down about this week’s episode, for which I am pretty much unspoiled.

The commercials are making it look like ( Ha! I bet you thought I'd forget to cut this for those of you who are spoiler averse! )This way, if I am correct, I can be all smug and self-satisfied, gloating to one and all that “I totally called that one!”

If, however, by some freak accident of scriptwriting, I am incorrect? Well then...*whistles* What? Predictions? I never make those.



3. random: We’ve all heard the phrase “a thing of beauty,”

i.e., “Tom Welling is, truly, a thing of beauty.”

Why, I ask you, is there no like phrase for the opposite end of the spectrum – say, for example, if your across-the-street neighbor decides to display his newly completed papier-mâché bust of Elvis on his front lawn. Is there no provision in our language to tell your friends that each time you leave the house, you are forced to behold “a thing of ugly”?

4. children: Decided to transcribe the 4 yr old’s version of the “our Father” tonight, to keep it for posterity. It goes like this:

Our Fadder
Who arf in heaven
Hall-uld be die name.
Vy kindom come
Vy willby done
On earf as dizzen heaven.
Give us dis day-hour
Daily bread
And furgib us are trefpath
As we *pause to inhale so nobody notices she doesn’t know the words* ‘gainst us
And lead us not to ‘tashun
But delibber us from ebil.
Ay-men.

Heh. Ebil. *is amused*

5. HP: was thinking about Remus tonight (not that I spend an inordinate amount of mental hours dwelling on the fates of various characters in the Potterverse, mind you!) when this occurred to me: fandom being what it is, the likelihood of Remus/Wolverine fiction existing somewhere in cyberspace is quite likely, isn’t it.

Pardon me whilst I shudder.

6. In closing, I have recently realized that, as of next month, seventeen years will have passed since I was seventeen years old. I really liked being seventeen, for the most part. I’m not sure how that has any bearing on…anything, really. Just had to put it out there.

I highly encourage you to read this article:

The Abortion Debate That Wasn't.

It covers the increasing occurrence of eugenic abortion - in other words, killing babies before they're born because they are, or potentially may be, disabled.

1. I tried the whole “deep thoughts” thing last night, and I’m amazed at how bad I’ve gotten at the whole LJ/blogging thing. I feel like I can’t write – no, scratch that – I feel like I can’t even think properly anymore. Seems I need the mental exercise of putting my thoughts into concrete words, of committing them to paper in order to force them into some sort of sense. Because the stuff I wrote last night? Not so much with the making sense.

In other words, back to random, trivial natterings.


2. For reasons beyond my control, my daughter has spent the evening addressing me as “sir.” In a moment of ill-advised sarcasm, I said to her, “so what does that make you, Marcie?” Naturally, because Life Is Like That, she said “Yes. I’m Marcie,” and now she won’t respond to her own name.

Oh, and just to stir things up a bit - Daddy intervened, and now if she doesn't call me “sir,” she’s calling me “Peppermint Mommy.” Ah, the joys.


3. If OTPs were assigned based on how much you encountered them in one day, my new OTP would be “My Dog/Underpants in the Hamper.” I’m just saying.


4. Once again, the mister is working (at least he’s at home, though!), leaving me to my own devices to entertain myself.

*pauses* this is how I got into trouble the last time, isn’t it.

Anyway. In a pile next to me, I have the following (in no particular order):

*seasons one and two of Stargate SG-1
*season two of Smallville
*book - The Half-Blood Prince
*DVD - "Fifty First Dates"
*book – The Valley of Horses

Plus, y’know. The laptop.

I don’t know why I give myself this many choices. I’m going to do what I end up doing ninety-five percent of the time when he’s down the hall and I’m in here – I’ll keep telling myself I’ll watch one episode of Smallville and then turn off the computer so I can be asleep by ten-thirty.

What I’ll actually end up doing is dinking on the computer until midnight, all the while lecturing myself on how I need more sleep.

Being predictable is so … predictable.


5. Unlike the way that you never can tell, with bees, I find that I always can tell, with headaches - one of which I have now.

See, there’s the 'I just need some caffeine' headache (this is not one of those, which is good, because caffeine this late at night would make for a whole new set of problems).

There’s the 'everyone is so LOUD' headache, which this one cannot be, as the house is as close to silent as it gets.

There’s the 'I’m utterly exhausted' headache, which this just doesn’t feel like; when I tried to lie down earlier, me poor wee head just hurt all the more.

There’s the 'I’m so stressed out' headache, which I have ruled out because those headaches occur right here *points to back of head* and this current headache hurts right here *points to side of head, towards the back sort of behind the right ear, but kind of reflecting out in a triangular fashion*.

Happily, it’s definitely not the 'hello, I am a migraine and I’m here to keel you ded!' headache. (As if I’d be here typing if it were that sort.) However, that leaves me with the 'shut up and suffer through it and it’ll most likely be gone in the morning' option. Hmph.

Unless, of course, it’s one of those sudden-onset brain tumors. *wg*


6. I can’t decide whether or not this is sacrilege. Whether or not it is, I know that it’s funny. (there are 16 panels). Don't miss "Sodom and Gomorrah"!


7. That's it for tonight, as my right eye is now tearing up with pain. Oy.