"In a relationship"

I enjoy reading his status updates on Facebook.

He's a writer -- fiction with a noir twist.

I'm a writer -- features and opinions with an upbeat or a religion incline.

And never the twain will met.

Except that we did, one day, at a local mall, thanks only to a phone call from him.

Because I did something I've never done before to a potential date -- I forgot I'd made it.

And when he called, after waiting for me until a less polite person would have gotten up and left, I wanted to crawl into a cave somewhere. But I didn't. I hopped into my car and drove to the mall.

We weren't "meant to be" -- if there is a "meant to be." But I was impressed by his intelligence, his sense of humor, and the fact that he seemed, in spite of the subject matter of his novels, quite normal. Genuine. Hopefully, in spite of the religion-themed subject matter of my columns, I did, too.

Oh my goodness, a nice guy.

Today, as I idly scanned the status updates, I noticed that his had changed. He's gone from "single" to "in relationship."

Yippee, I want to yell. Good job, man! You beat the odds.

But I quietly checked "like" instead.

And as I did, I confessed to having a small pang of...well, not envy so much as wistfulness.

I sometimes wonder what it would feel like to be a moderate person in a relationship with a guy of the same temperament. To go for a walk in a state park with him on a Saturday morning. To eat bagels on the deck or watch a cable movie. To read (how old-fashioned) the Sunday newspapers and share pieces of it across the sofa. To talk to him last thing at night, just checking-in.

I don't know if that will ever happen for me. To this point, I haven't been willing to risk sinking in the acid bath of bitterness and drama that often accompanies guys (or women) on their trajectory out of a previous relationship.

I'm not sure how much, frankly, I'm willing to risk. There are downsides to being congenitally temperate, yanno.

It's not that I've ruled out magic -- but I still expect to find that little guy behind the curtain, making the thunder clap and steam shoot out.

A good guy, yes.

But a very bad wizard.

Bad things, good people

Boy, is this Huffington Post commentary getting a lot of attention.

It would be nice to hear from some theists, however.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/elizabeth-e-evans/post_1823_b_834834.html

Pray like it's 300 A.D.

As a journalist, I'm intrigued by the fact that more and more young people are fleeing institutional Christianity.

As a pastor, I'm concerned that many churches, mired in arguments about sexuality and unable to address their questions in a meaningful way without going all trendy, are giving them good reasons.

At the Duke University Divinity School, helped by a grant from Lilly, the Youth Academy is trying to do something about that.

Comment and let us know how, and if, churches can invest in America's young people without sacrificing authenticity -- would the Duke model of prayer, reflection and service work in your community?

http://articles.lancasteronline.com/local/4/360705

And watch this channel for more fodder in the months to come!

We have met the "enemy"

Back when I was a child, folks from Long Island were the "foreigners." Yes, Brooklyn is part of Long Island -- but to us, the folks who lived "out there" were the upwardly mobile, the suburbanites who disliked us urban troublemakers, and, of course the wealthy in their Southampton beach homes.

But then we met some people from Long Island, and discovered that, by, and large, they were just like us -- except without the urban hipster flair.

Once I went to college, and my world-view widened, I nurtured friendships with Long Islanders, upstate New Yorkers, and even people from Wisconsin. Would North Carolina and Colorado be far behind?

And now, a Congressman from down the expressway where I grew up wants to tell me that my neighbors who are American Muslims are the real enemy. The problem with Peter King (well, just one of problems) is that right now he's got an err, huge megaphone -- the United States Congress.

We are becoming, or perhaps we have always been, a country that craves villains and heroes, groups of people we can turn into sinners and saints.

And we don't seem to learn from past mistakes, like the evils perpetrated upon 19th-century Irish and Jews, or Japanese Americans in the 20th-century.

So we attach people groups to the issues we haven't addressed.

Do we not have an effective immigration policy?

Lawmakers and states argue we should punish the children of the undocumented (or illegals, depending on where you stand) .

Do we fear terrorists will target American again ( although statistics show we have far more to fear from home-grown terrorists)?

Blame American Muslims, even though we know most American Muslims are law-abiding patriots.

Are we worried about the Middle East, where dictators fall and crowns totter? We continue to uncritically support an Israeli regime that treats Palestinians as less than fully human -- because in a landscape where it is hard to bet on winners, we need to have a "hero."

Tenure a problem for ya? Budget woes got you down? Teachers and public-sector employees are convenient sitting ducks for some -- right here in America.

Legitimate issues? Absolutely?

Facile solutions? For sure.

Not only facile, but untrue to the ideals that made this country so successful. Any sacrifice that isn't shared, any burdens not borne as a community, doesn't help us thrive as a nation.

Choosing "enemies" is child's play. In a world that demands adult solutions, it is a very dangerous game.

Heartbreak House

It's happened so many times that I should be used to it by now. Whether it's food, or clothes, books, or music, I make my offering -- hoping that it will be acceptable, will alleviate the wrath of this angry goddess, with her red-tinted hair and deep blue eyes.

Far more often than not, she rejects my gift, an edge of adolescent contempt in her voice.

And I take a firm grip on my lower lip, willing myself not to return flames with flames -- sometimes.

My daughter, all of 15, lives close to the edge.

Gifted with superior intellect, but grappling with a lagging memory and lack of focus, she is capable of racking up high test scores while "forgetting" to do her homework. Homework detention has become an ongoing fact of life in our household.

She's a self-avowed atheist in a family of believers, won't ever borrow her mom's "girly" clothes, and has allied herself with the "rage rock" followers of the Insane Clown Posse. Then there are a succession of "boyfriends" (we won't allow her to date yet).

With the exception of a few friends who are either childless or have sons, I rarely talk about her challenges. Too many times, I have had other mothers either suggest that somehow I am responsible for her travails, or sleekly congratulate themselves that their own daughters are doing just fine in school, thank you for asking.

When I'm not royally pissed by her tantrums, my heart breaks for this child, with so many gifts, who cannot yet see her own inner beauty. Lately she has been leaving a succession of emails, notes and computer messages around the house -- not meant for me, but not exorcised, either.

She is pleading, she is hurt, she is worried she's going to lose.

My vigilance has not protected her from risky behavior. My love and tenderness hasn't touched her spirit, seeking affirmation solely from her friends. Too often, I lose my temper. But I stay the course.

It seems I cannot do anything else.

The curse of the egghead woman

As an online dating veteran, I'm used to it by now.

Again and again, some guy will peruse my profile and say, either directly or cryptically -- you intimidate me. I admire the fellows who have the guts to write and tell me this to my virtual face -- I can only imagine that some just mentally push the "reject" button and move on.

I'm not exactly sure why I have this effect on on some men. Maybe it is my vocabulary. Maybe it's my education. Possibly I just come off as an egghead.

I hasten to say that it is my ex who is currently reading "The Brothers Karamazov" (for fun, he's reading it for fun!), not me. And my mother's cousin Robert who, very possibly, read it in the original.

It ain't me, babe.

If I were that intelligent, I'd probably be teaching at a university in Nebraska right now -- which is pretty much why my dad told me not to pursue a doctorate after graduate school. Not that there is anything wrong with the Midwest -- but we Northeasterners are a parochial lot. Take us too far from a coast, and we start to go a little crazy. Better to be nuts with others of our kind.

I can't even pretend that I'm an academic superstar. Ask my high school math teachers. That's why, as I pursue my counseling degree, I need to take a few extra math classes, to fill in for the ones that I didn't take in college.

But I know that my background follows me. I am, I fear, a private-schooled, liberal arts, New York Times-reading member of the East Coast intelligentsia. And no matter what I do ('fess up to buying trashy novels, watch HBO series three years after they were hot, munch on cheap Valentine's Day chocolates) it appears that I am a marked female.

If I think about it too closely, the idea that I scare some guys begins to weird me out (there you go -- how many truly clever or witty writers use THAT locution?)

It has long been my suspicion that men prefer their women smart -- but not too smart. A few indie movies, maybe. A taste for ethnic cuisine - well, who wants to eat at Ruby Tuesdays every night? Keeping up with the late night comedians is just necessary to be a pop culture citizen. But you better have some street cred, a taste for hockey, baseball or football, to balance out the intellectual pursuits.

I don't mind working on that aspect of my education, a happy moron among the faithful.

But I can't pretend I'm a natural.

Kudos to the guys who see the honkytonk heart, the common sense, the stubborn independence beneath the East Coast veneer. I could pass for someone from Minnesota -- until I open my mouth.

I'm really not that scary when you get to know me.

Just don't let me drive.

No Argument for God?

Sometimes cool things happen around here.

One of them is the youth minister John Wilkinson, who serves at a mega-church the next county over.

Yup. That would be Lancaster, home not only to conservative Christians, but to many who once were committed, but aren't now, or who have never been part of a Christian church.

And it is to them that the author is reaching out -- moving past the din of battles between anti-religious writers like Hitchens and Harris and Christian conservatives to, well...faith.

Check out my commentary. Read the book! Marvel at the absurdity of faith...and its never ending depth.

http://articles.lancasteronline.com/local/4/350898