Confession Sunday

I called in sick to church. Bad. I was supposed to teach Sunday school. Even worse. My co-teacher, my husband, also faked illness. Oh Lord.

Who does that?!

We have no {good} excuse. Boils and lightning and all sorts of plague are going to rain down on our street now, I just know it.

But in my defense, it's been a long time coming. (The calling in sick not the pestilence)

We have been struggling with our church. Mainly because we don't speak to any other members of the congregation. It's a small piece that creates a big impact. The fault lies on both sides {theirs and ours}. My husband can't see himself drinking a beer with anyone {the most basic of his human interaction levels} and therefore has no desire to attempt friendship. I find the odd sense of cattiness between the women disturbing and not at all appealing. Our love of the sermons, the message, and the challenge we leave with every Sunday to become better Christians can't erase the basic fellowship that's severely lacking.

I am not alone in my distaste. Others are facing similar struggles at their own place of worship. More often it's the people, not the pulpit, with whom they find grievance. Of course this solid evidence and research comes from coffee talks with friends, magazine articles, blogs and some good ol fashion Facebook spying.

To me, it boils down to this - the reason a church not only survives but thrives is the congregation. You can go anywhere for a sermon. You can hear a sermon online, read it in a book, there's even an app for that. People go to church because they want the human connection. Therefore a church needs to be a place of open hearts and acceptance. I don't want to play the "Judge Thee Up and Down Game" upon walking in the front door.

I am not concerned that we have moved back to square one. We'll find our place and it will be at the perfect moment. Until then I will enjoy my blessings: an extra 30 minutes of sleep and warm cup of coffee on a cold Sunday morning that will be thoroughly enjoyed in my slippers and flannel pants.

Gender Neutral is a Positive Thing

I will keep this short because I am afraid I might get a bit out of control. I do have a tendency to get on my wee lil soapbox after all.

My drive home from work takes less than ten minutes. But in those 15 miles I had to drive past two gruesome sites where a car had taken the life of a dog. There are so many things I want to say but I will boil it down to three major bullet points:

1) SPAY AND NEUTER YOUR PETS! Unless you are a) an experienced breeder or b) the only inhabitant of a deserted island, then your animal should be fixed. Done. End of story.

2) Microchip your pet. Yes, you may have a fence. Sure, you have indoor dogs/cats. It doesn't matter. Anything can happen and your pet could get out at any time. By having the microchip (and keeping it up-to-date) you are insuring you and your furry baby are just one step closer to being reunited should your pet get out.

3) If you have to give up your pet for some reason, do so humanely and responsibly. This last point is mainly for people in the armed services, since this seems to be a phenomenon so common to these individuals. There is no reason a deployment should equate to opening your front door and just letting your animal loose. There are shelters, foster programs, family or friends who can care for these animals. AND FURTHERMORE, if you are in a career that requires you to leave the country for months at a time, don't be a dumb-ass and buy another living being without having a proper caretaker in place when you're away.

There. I feel better. Although my heart still hurts for those dogs. My public service announcement is over and I leave you with my stray turned rescue who only sucks sometimes.

"Shia" aka "Pain-in-the-Ass" aka "Chitty-Moo-Moo"