I really love KC and the Sunshine Band. The tunes are catchy, and you can sing along with total gusto. Lately, I have been singing one tune in particular, "Shake Your Booty," but I sing it with different words. My version is "Shake Your Bottle." As you might imagine, a song like this deserves excellent dance moves, and I have them!
So, if you are at my house in the morning around 6:30 AM and almost 12 months old, I am rocking your world. I am belting out my version of the KC and the Sunshine Band classic. I am shake, shake, shaking my bottle, and a little girl is cracking up with laughter. Sometimes I even change up my lyrics with "shake, shake, shake your rattle." I really should have been a songwriter, but I digress.
You do funny things for love, and love does funny things for you. I always thought I was a little funny, but now I am finally hilarious. I am finally interesting. Who knew what love could do for you?
My horizons are expanding. My talents are growing- particularly when it comes to my fabulous lyrics and amazing dance moves. But most importantly, I believe that my heart is growing. Loving makes room for love.
So this is obvious. I know, I know. Perhaps this is my "Duh" moment, but I am discovering that love expands and makes room. It does not make anything easier. In fact, love makes things harder. Loving is harder because it makes you vulnerable. It opens you up.
Being open is dangerous. When you are open, people can and do hurt you. When you are open, circumstances can and do hurt you. Loving is dangerous and often unpredictable. Just because you love it does not mean that you can change or control outcomes or people. Love seems to be more about giving up that desire for control. Love is just love.
Love is just love, and yet, look at what we do for love. We fight battles. Sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. We risk rejection and humiliation. We follow. We run into burning buildings, even when we are afraid. We die. And sometimes we sing: "Shake, shake, shake! Shake, shake, shake! Shake your bottle! Shake your bottle!"
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Common Knowledge?
You know what the problem with common knowledge is? Apparently nobody knows what that means. Along with common knowledge, there is also a lack of common sense. Just in case you do not know, common knowledge and common sense are the gathered wisdom of the community that keeps us from making complete and utter idiots of ourselves. Sadly, though, that community is slipping away, as is the collected wisdom of the ages, but here is one gem that endures:
Stop sending nudie pictures of yourself to others. This is such a bad idea. In fact, do not take any picture of yourself that is only suitable for the dermatologist to see when he or she is looking for moles. Nobody wants to see that, even if they have asked to see that.
Frankly, I am not sure why you would be communicating with anyone who wants you to send them nude pictures. Does that person really respect you? Of course not! If you have to ask if someone respects you, they do not. If someone asks to have pictures of this nature, this is not leading to a mutual and life giving experience. It is leading to YouTube and a segment on Tosh.o.
Nothing good will ever come from this, and yet people persist in filming themselves, photographing themselves and sending these Kodak moments. Why? I guess because they think others would like to look at them. Somehow they believe that the masses will be overcome with awe after viewing the offending shots. In reality, we are making fun of your bits and pieces.
I guess actually, the people who send these pictures are not thinking at all. They are not wondering why anyone would want to see them. They are not thinking about how their wives or husbands might feel. I wonder if they think that they look good, that they are alluring.
Well, let me answer that for you: there is nothing alluring about you putting it all out there for everybody and his uncle to see. No mystery there at all. Might I suggest instead, meet that person for coffee and see if you would even be willing to talk to him or her with their clothing on. If not, walk away, put the camera away! Believe that you are worthy of respect. Believe that your body is not just a tool for someone else, but a beautiful and glorious part of the whole of you!
Oh how I wish this was common knowledge. I wish people saw their bodies as temples, not idols. I wish people saw their bodies as something to share with another, not a commodity to be bought and sold to the highest bidder. I wish we saw our bodies as part of that glorious body of Christ- broken in parts, strong in other parts, but all part of the purpose and love of God. I guess this is not common knowledge.
Well, here it is folks, a new (or very old) piece of common knowledge. Let us make this a piece of common knowledge that our bodies demand respect and care from ourselves and each other.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Celebrity Diet Secrets
"Up next, celebrity diet and fitness secrets."
That greeted me as I turned on my television to see a perfectly coiffed early morning host smiling as if the diet and fitness secrets of celebrities would be very best thing ever and watching it this morning would make my entire day. Pretty much before coffee, I'm game for anything. My brain has yet to be turned to the full "on" position, so I plopped down on my couch and drank my coffee. And watched.
Surely their secrets are something amazing that no mere mortal could ever know, like they eat scorpions for dinner or belong to some secret cult that has the one and only ancient diet book that allows for chocolate and wine and no exercise and a skinny little tush.
But no. You know their secrets? They have personal trainers who work them out for an hour or more each day. They have cooks who fix their meals. They have complexes that manifest in eating disorders. Or perhaps all three. And most of them are the size of Thumbelina. One of the perks of living in New York was that I got to see celebrities up close and personal. One, they look a whole lot like the rest of us when their cadre of hair and makeup people haven't spent hours on them. Two, they could fit in a teacup. Most celebrities are about four feet tall. Or at least Sarah Jessica Parker is.
I want the stories of the single mom who works full time with two children and still manages to be fit and healthy. That's who morning hosts should be interviewing. I don't want to hear about celebrities who have made bad relationship decisions that caused them to move from their manor home with fourteen hundred acres and fifteen hundred servants and who "found" themselves while making a new album, all fortuitously filmed on a faux-documentary. I want to hear the true stories of people who own their own scars, who didn't need to be saved by a new record album or a new book, but who dropped into the great deep of their own shadow and found their light. And for the last time, I'm not that interested in how anyone should decorate anyone else's home. Everyone listen up - it's your living space. Decorate it how you like. If I don't like it or your kids don't like it or your neighbor doesn't like it, that falls into the category of our problems, not yours. As long as you aren't hoarding cats or creepy dolls, enjoy your surroundings.
That's the real secret, isn't it? That there are no secrets or short cuts to health and fitness, physical, emotional, or spiritual. We cannot lose twenty pounds in ten days or find ourselves on a single retreat experience, especially since the real work of God begins when we are open to losing ourselves within God. We cannot shore up our fragile interiors by sprucing up the exterior. Paint a rotten wall, and it may look pretty for a while, but the wood is still falling to bits underneath. There are no secrets for becoming comfortable in one's own skin. There are no secrets for learning to trust God's voice within ourselves. There are, however, ample opportunities for denial and avoidance.
Except they don't necessarily look like denial or avoidance. They look like rational, justifiable things to do. And in our first few decades of life, they are completely necessary. During these years, we spend energy piling on the lines of our resumes, working to get into the right clubs, climbing the right ladders, measuring up to the right people's opinions, and getting the right jobs. Everything looks good from the outside. Perhaps our spouse looks lovely from the outside. Perhaps the job seems fine.
And then, one day, we have the opportunity to look around at our lives, our very carefully constructed around expectations and appearance selves, and realize we have a choice. This opportunity almost always looks and feels like our world crumbling down around us. The marriage isn't working anymore. We are burned out in our job. We look in the mirror and wonder where the ten or twenty or forty pounds came from. So we are tempted to search harder for the secrets to make it all better.
Oh yes, we can search for the secrets. We can continue to build the tower, we can strive for the external things that will make us whole (or so we think), and we can continue to blame all of our disappointments on others. For some reason, when we really do get to the hard work, we start here.
Until we realize that path is well-worn and leading nowhere. After the fourth or fifth or hundredth trip on the long walk to the dry well, we can decide to stop. We can die to that whole veneer of exterior appearance and get to work on the inside. We can stop blaming others and take some responsibility for our own decisions, our needs and wants, and our frailties. Note to all: This process isn't fun or pleasant. As my parish hears me say frequently, there is only one way to Resurrection, and that's through crucifixion and rotting in the tomb for a day or month or year. I suspect that's why so many people stay on this side of life, polishing resumes and listening for the next great secret to being the perfect person or the perfect Christian or the perfect minister or the perfect whatever.
We can search for the secrets, but there are none. It's all pretty much out there, that getting our selves and souls in shape takes work. Hard work. Muscles ache. Souls wail. Hearts break. Expectations shatter. Even some relationships come to an end.
And then slowly, tummies tighten. The excess fat that we don't need falls away. The soul smiles, and life is renewed. We look in the mirror and like, even love, who and what we see - all of what we see, imperfections and fabulosity. Perhaps for the first time, we can truly see as much of our selves as we ever can on this side of the Kingdom, faults, flaws, and all. We engage in self-reflection and end the monologue of ego. Because when we strip away the externals, when we give up searching for the shortcuts and lose (or at least lessen) the worship of Self, we find that person God has been calling us to meet all along. The one who is enough and whole, and who recognizes that the secret to health and wholeness is a willingness to surrender what we want and follow where God leads, even when the journey is challenging and hard. We realize grace and God's love are free, but the rest of it takes some hard work. We drink our coffee and sing our songs, the one that sit deep within our souls. Whether we are in tune or not isn't relevant.
It just matters that we have the courage to sing, to be our truest self, completely open to God's siren song. No shortcuts. No quick fixes. No diet secrets. Just the willingness to engage in the soul work of life.
That greeted me as I turned on my television to see a perfectly coiffed early morning host smiling as if the diet and fitness secrets of celebrities would be very best thing ever and watching it this morning would make my entire day. Pretty much before coffee, I'm game for anything. My brain has yet to be turned to the full "on" position, so I plopped down on my couch and drank my coffee. And watched.
Surely their secrets are something amazing that no mere mortal could ever know, like they eat scorpions for dinner or belong to some secret cult that has the one and only ancient diet book that allows for chocolate and wine and no exercise and a skinny little tush.
But no. You know their secrets? They have personal trainers who work them out for an hour or more each day. They have cooks who fix their meals. They have complexes that manifest in eating disorders. Or perhaps all three. And most of them are the size of Thumbelina. One of the perks of living in New York was that I got to see celebrities up close and personal. One, they look a whole lot like the rest of us when their cadre of hair and makeup people haven't spent hours on them. Two, they could fit in a teacup. Most celebrities are about four feet tall. Or at least Sarah Jessica Parker is.
I want the stories of the single mom who works full time with two children and still manages to be fit and healthy. That's who morning hosts should be interviewing. I don't want to hear about celebrities who have made bad relationship decisions that caused them to move from their manor home with fourteen hundred acres and fifteen hundred servants and who "found" themselves while making a new album, all fortuitously filmed on a faux-documentary. I want to hear the true stories of people who own their own scars, who didn't need to be saved by a new record album or a new book, but who dropped into the great deep of their own shadow and found their light. And for the last time, I'm not that interested in how anyone should decorate anyone else's home. Everyone listen up - it's your living space. Decorate it how you like. If I don't like it or your kids don't like it or your neighbor doesn't like it, that falls into the category of our problems, not yours. As long as you aren't hoarding cats or creepy dolls, enjoy your surroundings.
That's the real secret, isn't it? That there are no secrets or short cuts to health and fitness, physical, emotional, or spiritual. We cannot lose twenty pounds in ten days or find ourselves on a single retreat experience, especially since the real work of God begins when we are open to losing ourselves within God. We cannot shore up our fragile interiors by sprucing up the exterior. Paint a rotten wall, and it may look pretty for a while, but the wood is still falling to bits underneath. There are no secrets for becoming comfortable in one's own skin. There are no secrets for learning to trust God's voice within ourselves. There are, however, ample opportunities for denial and avoidance.
Except they don't necessarily look like denial or avoidance. They look like rational, justifiable things to do. And in our first few decades of life, they are completely necessary. During these years, we spend energy piling on the lines of our resumes, working to get into the right clubs, climbing the right ladders, measuring up to the right people's opinions, and getting the right jobs. Everything looks good from the outside. Perhaps our spouse looks lovely from the outside. Perhaps the job seems fine.
And then, one day, we have the opportunity to look around at our lives, our very carefully constructed around expectations and appearance selves, and realize we have a choice. This opportunity almost always looks and feels like our world crumbling down around us. The marriage isn't working anymore. We are burned out in our job. We look in the mirror and wonder where the ten or twenty or forty pounds came from. So we are tempted to search harder for the secrets to make it all better.
Oh yes, we can search for the secrets. We can continue to build the tower, we can strive for the external things that will make us whole (or so we think), and we can continue to blame all of our disappointments on others. For some reason, when we really do get to the hard work, we start here.
Until we realize that path is well-worn and leading nowhere. After the fourth or fifth or hundredth trip on the long walk to the dry well, we can decide to stop. We can die to that whole veneer of exterior appearance and get to work on the inside. We can stop blaming others and take some responsibility for our own decisions, our needs and wants, and our frailties. Note to all: This process isn't fun or pleasant. As my parish hears me say frequently, there is only one way to Resurrection, and that's through crucifixion and rotting in the tomb for a day or month or year. I suspect that's why so many people stay on this side of life, polishing resumes and listening for the next great secret to being the perfect person or the perfect Christian or the perfect minister or the perfect whatever.
We can search for the secrets, but there are none. It's all pretty much out there, that getting our selves and souls in shape takes work. Hard work. Muscles ache. Souls wail. Hearts break. Expectations shatter. Even some relationships come to an end.
And then slowly, tummies tighten. The excess fat that we don't need falls away. The soul smiles, and life is renewed. We look in the mirror and like, even love, who and what we see - all of what we see, imperfections and fabulosity. Perhaps for the first time, we can truly see as much of our selves as we ever can on this side of the Kingdom, faults, flaws, and all. We engage in self-reflection and end the monologue of ego. Because when we strip away the externals, when we give up searching for the shortcuts and lose (or at least lessen) the worship of Self, we find that person God has been calling us to meet all along. The one who is enough and whole, and who recognizes that the secret to health and wholeness is a willingness to surrender what we want and follow where God leads, even when the journey is challenging and hard. We realize grace and God's love are free, but the rest of it takes some hard work. We drink our coffee and sing our songs, the one that sit deep within our souls. Whether we are in tune or not isn't relevant.
It just matters that we have the courage to sing, to be our truest self, completely open to God's siren song. No shortcuts. No quick fixes. No diet secrets. Just the willingness to engage in the soul work of life.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Television Viewing at the Beach
Vacation invites your friendly neighborhood bloggers to watch television shows that we would normally ignore or skip over for Masterpiece Theatre, The Vicar of Dibley or various documentaries that enlighten and engage us. But, we're on vacation, turning into slugs, and seeing what's on while the rest of the world is working.
Oh, the horror. The horror. But we're sharing anyway because that's one of the many services we offer. We've done the viewing work so you don't have to.
1. Basketball Wives. We are withholding our normal sassy viewpoints for fear that a few of these women will hunt us down or become members of our parishes. We'll say this: they scare us, which may explain why almost all of them are really ex-wives. They do wear amazing earrings, though.
2. The Dirty Harry Movie Marathon. We at Dirty Sexy Ministry love Dirty Harry. The 70's clothing and hairstyles and cars (anyone else have memories of a parent or grandparent's car that had a back seat big enough to fit seventeen kids with nary a seat belt?). We love the sass and attitude. And face it, haven't most of us secretly wanted to say, "Well do ya feel lucky punk? Well do ya?" to the person who cut in front of us in the cashier's line and who seems surprised that they have to pay for their merchandise, thus spending forty minutes fumbling through their purse or rucksack for what apparently is the smallest wallet ever, all while talking loudly on the cell phone about the new nail polish and flip flops they just found in the store.
3. Law and Order and their various incarnations. If you've read this blog, this show comes as no surprise. We love you, Sam Waterston.
4. Ghost Hunters. Why hunt for a ghost at 2:00 am with shaky cameras and a tape recorder? Why not high noon? Do ghosts work union hours? And, as a practical matter, don't watch this before going to bed. Even big girls might leave the bathroom light on. And by the way, it's a stupid shadow, not a ghost. And EVP's sound suspiciously like static. We're just saying.
5. Home Shopping Network. Are we the only people who didn't know you could buy hair extensions off the television that would add luscious layers and length overnight with a few clips and snaps? And some magic make-up that gives you perfect skin with a twirl and buff? And clothing with applique unicorns? How have we missed this?
6. EWTN, which has a show that seems to be an evangelical Christian version of The View. Okay, The View is annoying enough. Imagine a particle-board table and some plastic plants in a studio with Christian women taking questions about what advice the Bible gives about relationships. Scintillating is not the word. Did you all know that the Bible says women should wear make-up? Neither did we. We're writing a letter of complaint to our scripture professors in seminary when we get back.
7. This horrible game show with a repo man asking questions of people. We missed the title, but the essence of this gem of charity and kindness has the host asking questions which aren't gimmes of people standing around in various degrees of dress and spandex who didn't seem to be smarter than a fifth grader. If they got a wrong answer, the tow truck ratcheted up the car (several were Trans-Ams). Too many wrong answers, and the Repo Man got the car. Enough right answers, and they could keep the Trans-Am. We didn't see anyone keep the car.
8. Taken. Two words: Liam Neeson. We can be reached through this blog should he want to meet either of us.
9. The Narcissist Network, also known as the Oprah Winfrey Network. While we both think the documentary about Chaz Bono was profoundly interesting and insightful about the physical and emotional journey trans-sexuals make, the shows about Sarah Ferguson, Shania Twain, and several others just seemed a bit too self-serving. Put on a show about a single mother who works three jobs to make sure her children have a safe place to live and food to eat. Women who have Swiss chalets don't really pull our heartstrings. Yes, we're mean. But we're still scared of the basketball wives. And we want NO grief about not loving all things Oprah.
10. Bring It On. Sometimes a girl just wants to be a cheerleader.
Oh, the horror. The horror. But we're sharing anyway because that's one of the many services we offer. We've done the viewing work so you don't have to.
1. Basketball Wives. We are withholding our normal sassy viewpoints for fear that a few of these women will hunt us down or become members of our parishes. We'll say this: they scare us, which may explain why almost all of them are really ex-wives. They do wear amazing earrings, though.
2. The Dirty Harry Movie Marathon. We at Dirty Sexy Ministry love Dirty Harry. The 70's clothing and hairstyles and cars (anyone else have memories of a parent or grandparent's car that had a back seat big enough to fit seventeen kids with nary a seat belt?). We love the sass and attitude. And face it, haven't most of us secretly wanted to say, "Well do ya feel lucky punk? Well do ya?" to the person who cut in front of us in the cashier's line and who seems surprised that they have to pay for their merchandise, thus spending forty minutes fumbling through their purse or rucksack for what apparently is the smallest wallet ever, all while talking loudly on the cell phone about the new nail polish and flip flops they just found in the store.
3. Law and Order and their various incarnations. If you've read this blog, this show comes as no surprise. We love you, Sam Waterston.
4. Ghost Hunters. Why hunt for a ghost at 2:00 am with shaky cameras and a tape recorder? Why not high noon? Do ghosts work union hours? And, as a practical matter, don't watch this before going to bed. Even big girls might leave the bathroom light on. And by the way, it's a stupid shadow, not a ghost. And EVP's sound suspiciously like static. We're just saying.
5. Home Shopping Network. Are we the only people who didn't know you could buy hair extensions off the television that would add luscious layers and length overnight with a few clips and snaps? And some magic make-up that gives you perfect skin with a twirl and buff? And clothing with applique unicorns? How have we missed this?
6. EWTN, which has a show that seems to be an evangelical Christian version of The View. Okay, The View is annoying enough. Imagine a particle-board table and some plastic plants in a studio with Christian women taking questions about what advice the Bible gives about relationships. Scintillating is not the word. Did you all know that the Bible says women should wear make-up? Neither did we. We're writing a letter of complaint to our scripture professors in seminary when we get back.
7. This horrible game show with a repo man asking questions of people. We missed the title, but the essence of this gem of charity and kindness has the host asking questions which aren't gimmes of people standing around in various degrees of dress and spandex who didn't seem to be smarter than a fifth grader. If they got a wrong answer, the tow truck ratcheted up the car (several were Trans-Ams). Too many wrong answers, and the Repo Man got the car. Enough right answers, and they could keep the Trans-Am. We didn't see anyone keep the car.
8. Taken. Two words: Liam Neeson. We can be reached through this blog should he want to meet either of us.
9. The Narcissist Network, also known as the Oprah Winfrey Network. While we both think the documentary about Chaz Bono was profoundly interesting and insightful about the physical and emotional journey trans-sexuals make, the shows about Sarah Ferguson, Shania Twain, and several others just seemed a bit too self-serving. Put on a show about a single mother who works three jobs to make sure her children have a safe place to live and food to eat. Women who have Swiss chalets don't really pull our heartstrings. Yes, we're mean. But we're still scared of the basketball wives. And we want NO grief about not loving all things Oprah.
10. Bring It On. Sometimes a girl just wants to be a cheerleader.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Signs You've Just Given Up*
About a year ago, one of us went to her then-boss to discuss her eminent adoption of the Cutest Baby Ever. His response, flowing with compassion and empathy for a single woman who had suffered several miscarriages and one failed adoption attempt was as follows: So, you've just given up.
Yes. Really. We couldn't make this up.
Giving up doesn't mean throwing in the towel on life. It does mean releasing expectations of what we think life should be and instead offering ourselves to what life can be. It means stopping ourselves in our tracks when we compare ourselves and our lives to others. Our life is a gift from God, and when we denigrate ourselves or others to build ourselves up or tear ourselves down (pick the poison), we refuse the gift of discovering our particularly snazzy selves. As some sage said, "We must be willing to release the life we've planned to accept the life waiting for us." Or something like that.
With that in mind, however, we were wondering about what would constitute warning signs that one had just given up on our fabulous selves, regaling our selves to less than. Here are our thoughts after a few days of vacation. After all, we love our Dirty Sexy Ministry Community, and we figured you'd want to partake in our vacation thoughts, however disturbed.
1. Pajama jeans.
2. Home shopping channels become regular viewing on Friday nights, and every night, for that matter, as if it were Law and Order. And you think the stuff is really classy. Because it would match your clergy shirts and pajama jeans.
3. Aerosol cheese, dark chocolate, and two bottles of red wine (because they were two for the price of one) seem like a reasonable dinner option. Fabulous always gets the good wine to bring out the full taste of aerosol cheese and dark chocolate, and good wine is never two for one.
4. Why go out when I can stay in and watch "Dirty Dancing: The Assisted Living and Artificial Hip Years"?
5. Kathy Griffin is an appropriate person to quote in sermons and in delicate pastoral situations.
6. You'd turn down a date with Liam Neeson because you have your knitting club that night.
7. Too many cats? Pshaw!
8. A mime ministry is just what the parish is lacking.
9. Klingon is a worthwhile second language to learn and will impress search committees when they see it on your resume.
10. Wearing a full bunny rabbit costume for the bishop's visit will be just the surprise that will make her/his day so memorable! What could go wrong?
11. Your sabbatical plans include hunting for Bigfoot, touring the country with a kazoo and bagpipe orchestra that plays traditional church hymns of the 18th Century, and competing in a high stakes Boggle tournament in Iowa.
*Warning: Written over wine and tapas on the beach. This is not high theology.
Yes. Really. We couldn't make this up.
Giving up doesn't mean throwing in the towel on life. It does mean releasing expectations of what we think life should be and instead offering ourselves to what life can be. It means stopping ourselves in our tracks when we compare ourselves and our lives to others. Our life is a gift from God, and when we denigrate ourselves or others to build ourselves up or tear ourselves down (pick the poison), we refuse the gift of discovering our particularly snazzy selves. As some sage said, "We must be willing to release the life we've planned to accept the life waiting for us." Or something like that.
With that in mind, however, we were wondering about what would constitute warning signs that one had just given up on our fabulous selves, regaling our selves to less than. Here are our thoughts after a few days of vacation. After all, we love our Dirty Sexy Ministry Community, and we figured you'd want to partake in our vacation thoughts, however disturbed.
1. Pajama jeans.
2. Home shopping channels become regular viewing on Friday nights, and every night, for that matter, as if it were Law and Order. And you think the stuff is really classy. Because it would match your clergy shirts and pajama jeans.
3. Aerosol cheese, dark chocolate, and two bottles of red wine (because they were two for the price of one) seem like a reasonable dinner option. Fabulous always gets the good wine to bring out the full taste of aerosol cheese and dark chocolate, and good wine is never two for one.
4. Why go out when I can stay in and watch "Dirty Dancing: The Assisted Living and Artificial Hip Years"?
5. Kathy Griffin is an appropriate person to quote in sermons and in delicate pastoral situations.
6. You'd turn down a date with Liam Neeson because you have your knitting club that night.
7. Too many cats? Pshaw!
8. A mime ministry is just what the parish is lacking.
9. Klingon is a worthwhile second language to learn and will impress search committees when they see it on your resume.
10. Wearing a full bunny rabbit costume for the bishop's visit will be just the surprise that will make her/his day so memorable! What could go wrong?
11. Your sabbatical plans include hunting for Bigfoot, touring the country with a kazoo and bagpipe orchestra that plays traditional church hymns of the 18th Century, and competing in a high stakes Boggle tournament in Iowa.
*Warning: Written over wine and tapas on the beach. This is not high theology.
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