Monthly Archives: September 2010

A Day For Anonymous Commenting

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We’ve gotten to know each other around here. But we still don’t know everything. And there’s no way we know each other’s secrets.

But, we find ways of telling them on the internet, don’t we? I have them, too. And I don’t share all of them in these posts. But sometimes I’ll type out something in a comment on some blog–and leave it in a comment in some other corner of the blogosphere, knowing that most eyes will never see it. Why do I do that? Because it feels good to get it out there anyway. It feels good to release it–release myself from its hold. It becomes powerless. Benign. And I am free from it.

I read this powerful list of confessions. Here’s an excerpt:

What if I told you…
i’m glad he died.
What if I told you…
i was scared for my life, many times.
What if I told you…
how much showing weakness scares the hell out of me.

What if today was a day where you could get it out? Type it out. Let it go. And walk away from it. Leave it anonymously – with a fake email address that won’t link back to your avatar, like nonsense@anons.com. But leave it. And walk away. We don’t have to know who you are.

Finish this sentence: What if I told you ____________

**UPDATE**
Thank you for reading this–for being here–for praying for those who have commented–and for commenting. I can’t believe the response that has come from this so far… It’s my bedtime, but I will check  back first thing in the morning. Keep the confessions rolling. I pray this is a moment of release for those who need it.

** UPDATE TWO**
Bedtime again, but this conversation is still alive, so I’m going to let it run its course for another night. There are so many confessions that have been poured out in this. And so many people have been praying. I’ve lost count. I think dozens of people are praying. So say what you need to say, and if you need to get some life-level help, please get in touch with me. mandy[at]mandythompson.com… There are people out there who want to help.

When it doesn’t make sense…

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We sat at “The Sandbar” restaurant, overlooking white sand and breaking waves, while hiding from the onslaught of August’s sunshine. Somewhere between my Island Salad and my Chicken Quesadilla, I noticed two dark slits just a few degrees above the horizon, with a foggy gray haze below.

I watched them endlessly–Drew barely able to maintain a conversation with me.

After bringing them up about a half-dozen times, he gave in and we settled on the fact that they were helicopters. Hovering. Slightly moving, but mainly hovering.

Of course, when he stepped up from his seat, ready to leave, I couldn’t help but steal one more glance out the window.

He appeasingly rattled off:

“They could be armed forces, running a mission.”
“Or coast guard, saving someone.”
“Or scientists studying something.”

I was satisfied, and we left.

And, I couldn’t help but think: That’s me. That’s what I do when something in life doesn’t make sense to me. I think about it. I talk about it. I stare at it. I practically study it. I don’t like it when things don’t make sense. I will make them make sense, even if it’s wrong–if I’m wrong. I’d rather have order and reason than have chaos and irrationality.

But, I’m learning to accept that some things don’t make sense. Some things just are as they are. And there’s no way to change them or understand them. I’m getting there. Slowly.

But, in the meantime: how do you handle the things of life that just don’t make sense sometimes?

I just know that last book has been written.

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  1. The Bible – because it takes a LONG time to read the whole thing – and it’s more of a compilation work than one long story (although my husband might differ with me on that last point haha)…
  2. Francine River’s “Redeeming Love” – it’s mah fave.
  3. A blank notebook (it’s a book!) so I can write songs & stuff.
  4. The Telephone Book. Seems useful, if only for fires & toilet paper & such.
  5. “How To Survive on a Deserted Island” – I’m sure that book exists. And I’d definitely want it with me.

You’re stuck on a deserted island. You get to have 5 books with you. What are they?

P.S. I have a good bad habit of stealing post ideas from Hannah.

P.P.S. after the first ps: That last book DOES exist: here

P.P.P.S. Can I substitute my MacBook for #2, since it actually IS my favorite “book?” [grin]

Some “pee on” and some just “pee”

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I know I lost some of you at the word “pee” in the title of a blog post. Twice. :shock: I’m sorry. But, let’s be honest, I gained some of you for that very reason. (see? I know you…)

So, peeps (get it?), what are we talking about today? We’re talking about how people say things differently. And I have a theory that I’m going to test on y’all, because everyone knows the blogosphere is a most reliable sampling of persons all over the world…

Or maybe not.

But it’s my corner of the blogo-world, so I get to call the shots.

This may sound weird, but I’ve heard two ways of saying this phrase: ”made me pee myself” and ”made me pee on myself”… My theory is that the phrasing depends on where you live–where you’re from.

Ss, how ’bout this. Y’all tell me if you pee yourself, or pee on yourself.

And then tell me where you grew up AND where you live now. (gotta figure out where these phrases are coming from)

  1. Pee or Pee On?
  2. Grew up where?
  3. Live where now?

Knight in Shattered Armor

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The phrase flew out of Taylor Mali’s mouth and latched onto my heart when I listened to one of his pieces. It begged to become a song.

I have scratched out some phrases, words, images, and ideas – thinking about how a man can be strong and still be wounded, vulnerable. Thinking about how my husband loves me perfectly, despite his imperfections. Thinking about how love can rescue a woman from an ugly place, can change her, can revive her, when that love is given by a man strong enough, yet vulnerable enough, to have a safe and open heart for her to rest in. At least, that’s what I’m thinking. I’m thinking a knight in shattered armor is still a knight.

But there’s nothing like the variety that comes from the internet… Yes, that means you, especially the men in this group. What do you think when you read that phrase? “Knight in Shattered Armor?”