My good friend Sabrina posted a link to a blog that struck a chord with me on her Facebook page today.  I linked it to my page and I was told it's loaded with pop up ads but I didn't have that problem.  If you should want a copy, let me know.  Here's my response:  

Oooo, ouch!    Years ago when I first moved into the Tower District, I met Becca.  She worked at The Movies, an independent video rental spot.  Actually, the BEST EVER video rental spot.  The first night I met her she was sporting a shirt that read, "Recovering Christian".  I remember thinking that she was walking a thin line, but years have gone by and things have changed.  There's a reason why she is such a kindred spirit.  Hi Becca!  My name is Miriam and I'm a recovering Christian.  I was raised in a church where we were taught to love the sinner, hate the sin. In other words, "I'm better than you". It has taken years and years of undoing, moving along with fear and trepidation with thoughts of maybe I never really was a Christian to begin with. I'm well into my 30s now and I know what I believe. I know what it means to be a Christian... to me.  I try to be Christlike and that means loving everyone, showing grace, and not judging. When I lose focus and let my ego take over, I start judging instead of coming from a place of love.  I don't like that part of myself.  

I've just arrived home from church. Today, after reading this blog post and the service this evening, I'm challenged to really love. Put my money where my mouth is. Give more of my 'self'. Come from the place of love when I'm tempted to judge. Love when someone hates...

Source: notyouraverageordinary.com via Miriam on Pinterest

I want this to be in my entry way.  "To live content with small means".

Lots was spent this weekend in the city by the bay.  I don't really have much to show for it except for some good memories, which are most important of course.  What I didn't spend on clothes and trinkets I did spend on a decent hotel room, food, and my fact finding mission at some of the city's hip little watering holes.  My one regret for the weekend:  I wish I could of been a little more frugal... and not getting to eat at SPQR.  OK.  Two regrets.  However, had we eaten there, I would probably feeling even more regretful about not living so frugally.  Some of the things, not all of the things I wanted to do took cash, but yes.  Money was spent.  Money is hard to come by these days and not just for me.  The amount of people living on the street proves it.  We got hit up for change... everywhere.  It was hard not to have to think about it and not have it move me or affect me in some way leaving me to question, what's my role?  Food for thought.

Wanna see pictures?

I was all about the quintessential San Francisco experiences:  We had Dim Sum.  Just a general note: ALWAYS make sure it's cooked.  That's all I'll say about that.

We went to City Lights Books.

We went Bohemian and visited Vesuvio.  

We visited a modern day speakeasy.  Part of my fact finding mission.  Coming soon to my drink repertoire:  tinctures and bitters.  I was so inspired.  I also got the chance to visit 15 Romolo.  If I lived in the city, THAT would be my spot. 

I had Banh Mi at midnight... because the city has EVERYTHING at midnight!

We stayed at an environmentally friendly hotel.

We took a guided tour of the bay on a boat.  Thanks Groupon!

We had oysters and Bloody Marys at Fisherman's Wharf.

I introduced someone to The Buena Vista who had never been there before. 

We saw how chocolate was made at Ghirardelli Square.

We took taxis and hoofed it everywhere. 

We had dinner and listened to music while dining at Yoshis. 

And, I got to see the Painted Ladies at Alamo Square.  It's all hills!  

 I was busy.  Nevertheless, it was a good time and I experienced all that makes up San Francisco. But I know there's so much more to see.  I love that city.    Next time, I take my girl.  

Years ago when I was on staff at a large church a member of the college worship team was walking down one of the hallways at the church when he ran into the senior pastor.  He greeted the Pastor at which point the Pastor commented on my friend's earrings (he sported posts in each ear) and asked him, "What are ya?  A homosexual?"  When our friend was relating this to me and my roommate, I think he was more upset about being accused as gay than he was at the Pastor (of this huge church) calling him out in the way that he did.  In the conversations that ensued, I came to the conclusion that in my mind, evangelical churches needed to reexamine themselves on this subject.  What if he really was gay and wanted our church to be his house of worship? Clearly, this sent a message that being gay was wrong AND it was OK to poke fun at them.  (This experience among others soon led to my demise there).

I came across John Shore's blog on The Christian Left's FB page this morning.  It's what's inspired this post.  Originally I had intended on posting a link to it on my page with a single comment, but it's a subject very near and dear to my heart, thus earning it a blog post.  Tell me.  Where does Jesus Christ himself say, "You can't be gay"?  And why is it such a big freakin' deal that people lose their jobs over wanting to love people as Jesus does?  It's sad that the church has moved away from this basic example that Jesus has set for us and created one of their own that causes devision and forces people to walk away from a very loving God. 

It's really a non-issue, yet it's been one of the biggest issues that divides believers today... and shouldn't we all be unified?  

Edited.

Yesterday I had a friend who didn't understand that I just didn't have $75 to purchase a piece of furniture.  Yes, I have $75. But not to purchase a piece of furniture... that we had already traded for. Sure, I would like it and it looks great in my living room, but I'm a single mom, who doesn't get one red cent in child support and if I should want a weekend out of town, it takes months of planning and saving.

I so relate to Jennifer Anniston's character in this movie. It's not like I'm scraping for pennies these days, but I don't really have a whole lot left over to go on a cruise or to spend thousands on my pets or to get my nails done or my hair done at the salon. But if I did, would I?  I don't think I would.  I did a couple of stints where I did Acrylics (big mistake for a bartender).  Before Sophia, I went to the salon on a regular basis.  But these days I can't rationalize a beauty budget.  I'd rather go camping.  And that is where I think it lays. Not that having a beauty budget is wrong for you.  It's just not what's important to me.  

It boils down to Money.  Ew.  Would I feel that way if I had it?  Would I spend it on myself or give it away...  What am I doing right now?   A new friend put this up on Facebook last night.  

I'd rather be the kind of person that does this.

Friends with Money - Movie Trailer

Yesterday I had a friend who didn't understand that I just didn't have $75 to purchase a piece of furniture. Yes, I have $75. But not to purchase a piece of furniture... that we had already traded for. Sure, I would like it and it looks great in my living room, but I'm a single mom, who doesn't get one red cent in child support and if I should want a weekend out of town, it takes months of planning and saving.

I so relate to Jennifer Anniston's character in this movie. It's not like I'm scraping for pennies these days, but I don't really have a whole lot left over to go on a cruise or to spend thousands on my pets or to get my nails done or my hair done at the salon. But if I did, would I?

my body.

I love walking around naked. I think I'm sexy. My body bears the marks of motherhood: stretch marks and a scar from which the midwife pulled my child from me. I think it's part of what makes me sexy.

I would venture to say that this is what I look like. A little less booty though, I've never been really blessed in that region. In the 1600s this was beauty. There are plenty of people out there who still think this is beautiful... myself included.

But somewhere along the line, this has become the ideal of beauty. She must have worked hard for that body and yes it looks like I could do my laundry on her stomach, but when did this become the image of what women compare themselves to?

I want to model to my daughter a healthy self-image. I don't want her to compare herself to other girls or to think that if you can't shop at Forever 21, it doesn't mean that you aren't beautiful. Beauty is so much more than skin deep. Beauty is in your words and your actions. Beauty is what is on the inside. Beauty is compassion and love. Beauty is taking that money you were going to spend on that tummy tuck and boob lift and giving it to the hungry or your child's future. So I guess that means I have to actively be seeking that myself. It's hard though. I also bear the scars of hurtful words and actions of those once very close to me.  Being a girl, those things cut deep. However, as time goes on and as my daughter grows, how she sees herself becomes more important than whether or not I'll be wearing a size 10 by the time my 20 year reunion rolls around next summer.

I came across this on Pinterest the other day...

The quote beside it read:  "A mark for every breath you took, every blink, every sleepy yawn. One for every time you sucked your thumb, waved hello, closed your eyes and slept in the most perfect darkness. One for every time you had the hiccups. One for every dream you dreamed within me.
It isn't very pretty anymore. Some may even think it ugly. That's OK. It was your home. It's where I first grew to love you, where I lay my hand as I dreamed about who you were and who you would be. It held you until my arms could, and for that, I will always find something beautiful in it."
This is how I feel about things now.  I pondered hard the other day that if I had the means to do it, would I get plastic surgery?  I don't think so.  I don't think stretch marks are 'ugly'.  I don't 'hate' my body.  Life is a gift.  It's up to us to see it as such and to be that model to our children.  
There.  Got it off my chest.  

I just got back from Winco where I witnessed one of the worst temper tantrums ever.  And before I go any further, no, it wasn't Miss Grace.  Thank God.  I'd like to think I nipped that one in the bud early on.  

I could hear this kid from the moment I walked in the store.  It sounded like demons screaming, "I want that flower!" over and over again.  They were in the produce section and I needed mushrooms.  Sure enough, there was this little towheaded little boy on his hands and knees hanging onto his mother's cart as she tried to push it along.  "I want that flower!  Aaaaaaaaah!"   I had to get out of there.  Mom was ignoring it all.  Dad too.  That's right.  Dad too.  There were two of them.  I only had a couple of more things to get so I made my way away from them.  But the screaming didn't stop.  After I had gathered my things, I ran into them again and Mom was finally giving him the 3 count.  Yeah lady.  I think it might be a little late for that.  As I was going through the check out, I saw Dad take him out... and he was still screaming.  And when I drove out, there they sat on the curb... where he was still screaming.  

Unacceptable.  

I don't know their situation.  The boy could have behavioral issues.  They could be shitty parents.  But Gawd.  All that screaming for the 15 minutes I spent in that store sent me reeling.  I had to get it out of my system and you are the recipients.  

Thankyouverymuch.