Real Life Reflections

Although few of us want to admit it, and I'm sure we all want to believe that we're above this, I think we're all influenced by the big screen. Face it, it's mezmerizing: those perfect bodies, beautiful faces, and predictable outcomes. We all wish our lives followed a Hollywood script and that someone could airbrush away our physcial defects (and maybe a few extra pounds): a smaller, straighter nose, a longer, slimmer, more curvaceous waist, muscles that were a tad more defined, etc. Alas, though all of life may be a stage, the lighting experts and make-up artists aren't included in the ticket price. Still, we try to mimick as best we can, and although a select few may come close to imitating Hollywood beauty physically, our lives themselves can't be so easily controlled. I love a feel-good movie as much as anyone. Superheros who save the day, no matter how unrealistic the rescue, make me cheer. I'll walk out of the theater with a smile on my face and a ligh

When my husband and I were in the falling-in-love stage of our relationship, I worried that my love for him would compete against my love for God - that I had to choose between the two - that loving God and loving a man couldn't co-exist. I expresed this concern to my sister who, at the time, was an old married woman with five years of marriage under her belt. She looked at me, somewhat surprised at my question and said, "If you love God, how can you not love Marc?" Her answer has (obviously) stayed with me all these years. I recently had a conversation with my daughter in which she gave me a synopsis of a book by Rob Bell, The Sex God (you can find it at Barnes and Noble or Amazon). Rob Bell's message is somewhat similar to my sister's words that day so many years ago, but with a slightly different angle. Rob Bell's message, according to Ami, is that spirituality is connectedness to God. Sexuality is connectedness to other human beings. Our lives are all abo

It's January. The parties are over. The decorations carefully boxed and stored until the season rolls 'round again. Ralphie and his father's leg lamp as well as George Bailey and Clarence now sit silently on a shelf or perhaps in a drawer. We've visited and/or partied with everyone we could ever want to visit (and quite a few that we'd prefer to never have to see ever again). Every group whose roster we've signed, every group whose roster our spouse has signed, our families, our friends, and our place of employment, all celebrate the holidays in some form or another. We've shopped and spent and baked and cooked and wrapped until our feet and fingers are numb and our pockets are empty (or beyond). I think perhaps that the whole world must be as exhausted as I am (or at least the women who are the ones who typically make all of the above happen). As I sit here typing this, I look out to my living room and see mounds of festive decorations. They no longer deco

"Make new friends but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold. " At the beginning of a new year, most people look forward and make resolutions to better them self in some way over the next twelve months. This new year, however, I looked back and was overwhelmed by what I found. Friendships - real friendships - are not easy things to build. Real friendships require trust, and it takes time for us mortals to be able to do that with each other. Although few of us will to admit it to ourselves much less anyone else, our hearts are vulnerable. We station sentries at the door and train them well. They keep any potential pain away. The problem lies in that they are zealous guards and often refuse entrance to everyone - including friends. Oh, they'll let people in to a certain extent - like maybe onto the porch or possibly into the living room, but for a friend to make it to the back of the house (the kitchen, the bathroom) where the real stuff of life goes on is no mean f