A sponsor, a representative, a model of Faith

On Thursday my little sister will be confirmed, and she has chosen me as her sponsor. She may have chosen me because I was the easiest one to ask. I am her sister, I will be in her life forever, I am seven years older than her - so "wiser." And I would be home during her confirmation.
But to me it is a little more than that. Although my confirmation sponsor did not end up taking an active role in my life, much like my godparents have been in the shadows, I wanted to take my role as an example in faith very seriously.
I felt the same way when my brother asked me to be Clara's godmother. These people are asking me to be a role model, to be a witness of faith. And I do not want to fall short.
It is difficult, because I am not the model Catholic. I lapse in my faith, I fail to go to church every Sunday when I am away from home. I forget to pray. I put myself before God, before my faith, before everyone. I have faltered. I have been angry with God. I have turned my back on him. I have lived a life I am not proud of.
But I always go back. I always recognize that feeling of emptiness - isn't it funny how overwhelming emptiness can be? - as a yearning to be close to God once more. Is that enough? That I recognize through it all, no matter the paths I take, that God will always be there? Maybe not quite. I need to work on welcoming Him into my life, always.
It is tradition to give a gift to the confirmed. I have been scouring the webs (because there are no shops in my town - and even if there were, I have absolutely NO time to go anywhere...) for something wonderful to give her. But my brother is already getting her a crucifix, my grandmother is getting her a ring, and my mother bought her all the saint books she would ever need. So what am I left with?
I decided that the most meaningful present would be to write her a letter (and maybe buy her a pair of earrings).
But the letter would address more than our faith. Well, not more than our faith, because our faith encompasses everything. It comes out of the church and into our daily lives. Our love and worship of God flows into our friendships, our relationships, even into our education. God is behind our decisions, our goals, our thoughts, our worries. He is a part of everything. So when I write a letter to my sister about my faith as it pertains to her, it will be a letter about life, love, hopes, and dreams.
Hopefully God will send me inspiration, hopefully I will be able to use my hand to write His words. Hopefully I can lead my sister down a holy, happy path.

Stay tuned, I may post bits of the letter...

Free* Stuff... just tell everyone how much you love it!

Yesterday I got an email from a company asking me if I wanted to try out their product for free and blog and tweet about my experience with it. The first thing I thought was, ha, they've got the wrong girl. Didn't they see I only have 26 followers? They probably wrote to everyone on 20sb.net, and do I want to give in to someone who is that desperate? Also it is something I would never use. Why couldn't someone contact me with something I need?
This got me thinking. If it was something I've always wanted to try and I know they are not desperate because all of a sudden I have a thousand followers... would I give in then? Would I accept their product and then bombard my readers with my reviews of it? I feel like that is selling out. But hey, free stuff is free stuff and I'm living on a verrry tight budget.
So the conclusion, it would have to be really good. How good? Well, the only thing I can think of is if God wanted to give me something to review, like a free miracle.
So I said to him
*this conversation may not have happened...
"Hey God, if You want to throw me a free miracle or something, I will blog and tweet about it. THINK of all the followers You would get! I don't know God, I think I'm really on to something here... It would have to be something specific to me, because if it's a big miracle everyone can blog about it, and that defeats the purpose don't you think."
This is where God rolls His eyes.
"You could send me a husband!"
"A husband? That's not a miracle."
"Well, my mom thinks it would be a miracle... You could send me a man who is tall and strong. Handsome. With a good sense of humor. A guy who likes to break out in song randomly. One who doesn't mind going to a musical now and then. One who loves my family, who doesn't mind getting his feet dirty. One who could be comfortable in the country and in the city. A man who is reliable, who will love me unconditionally. A man I could trust. Now that would be a miracle!"
"I think we have bigger issues here than giving away free stuff for a review."
Sigh, God's always right. But I promise I would write a good review!
Maybe he could just make it spring RIGHT NOW? I'm over the snow. It's April, you know.

A little different..

Happy Monday! Although the first day of Spring was yesterday and last week we had a couple 50 degree days, winter seems to still be lurking wayyyy up here in Vermont. Chilly! I hope it is looking like a beautiful spring where you are!

Lately, although I cover it with humor, I've been freaking out about money. I returned from Denmark with a hundred kroner to my name (less than $20). And although I've been working over 40 hours a week since December and attempting to live like a hermit, life gets expensive. So I drew up a budget, looked at all my financials, and estimated the cost of moving, and rent for three months. And I balked. I could do it, but I would be skimping by.
I tried not to let it worry me. I have lived on very little before. I am a pro at living off the bare necessities. But knowing how far away I'd be from my family, not knowing when I would get a job, or how well it would pay... I couldn't help but let the worry creep over me.
So I started to pray about it. I asked God if He really wanted me to go to Austin, if this was really in His plan. I have done things before that were definitely against His plan, and I have suffered for it. So I wanted to go about it right this time. Is this what He wants?
As the plans came together I received positive reactions from the most important people in my life. I felt at ease, except for my lack of money, and the difficulty in getting a second job with my hours and the fact that I would be leaving in May. So I asked God, if this was his plan, could he maybe help me with my financial burden?
I didn't expect anything from it. Why would God help me with something like money. Why would He want me to move to Texas when I could just as easily stay here and not need any money. But I knew that I really couldn't stay here, and I hoped that God recognized it too. I was sure He did, He knows my heart.
Then last week I got a call for a baby sitting job, they would pay me $75.00 to watch a few kids for a couple hours. The next day $50.00 arrived in the mail for me. An old friend remembered he owed me money - I had completely forgotten. This extra income, if only a one time thing, was welcome. It was the exact amount I needed to pay for my eye doctor.
Saturday we got a phone call from a woman who lived up the road. I have never met her, and my parents only knew of her. She was calling to offer me a job as a night nanny. She had gotten my name, as well as rave reviews, from a woman who attends my church. The woman highly recommended me. I was surprised. I knew of this woman, I see her every Sunday, but have never spoken to her. I didn't know she knew who I was, or that I worked with children, but somehow she did.
It is the perfect job. I will be taking care of newborn twins, helping with their nightly feedings, as well as attending to the one and a half year old boy if he wakes during the night. And they only need me until May. After I accepted the job, I immediately prayed to God in thanks. I truly believe that Austin is where He wants me to be, everything has come together, and God has been answering all my prayers. I only hope that I am worthy.
I do feel bad, my parents have been struggling financially for a while, and yet I am the one getting helped. My mother says she understands. God just wants me to know He is there. We are in our Honeymoon-stage she says. He wants to know that I am loved, and no matter what I have done or gone through, He will always be there.

My heathen brother and my wild imagination

B4 (brother number 4 in case you just started reading and you have no idea what all these Bs are. They are brothers. I have too many of them) (also when I told B4 what I referred to him as, he said "Before? why would you name me Before? Before what?")
Wow, ok, I'm going to start over.
B4 is a heathen. That is what we (and by we I really just mean my mother, but I say we so my mom doesn't start calling me a heathen too) call people in the family who don't believe in Jesus. People outside the family who don't believe in Jesus are beautiful, wonderful people. But, B4 is a heathen. I have to congratulate my mother in the fact that out of her eight children, only two of them are heathens. AND these two (B2 and B4) are the only two children in the family who have red hair. Which makes me giggle uncontrollably sometimes, because gingers don't have souls! This same fact does not make my mother giggle for some reason, even though I repeat it over and over again, just to make sure she understands.
I am not a heathen. As we have established, I love Jesus. We must also establish that drinking tequila with Jesus doesn't make you a heathen, it makes you awesome. And tipsy. And might also be the answer to bringing world peace because, as B1 once exclaimed, "I have never had a bad experience with tequila! Tequila just makes you HAPPY!" B1 is a 30 year old with two babies but always ready to go out and grab a margarita with me.
Anyway. The topic of B4's soul-less-ness has come up a lot lately. Every Sunday after church my family (grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins and their babies) invades the local bagel shop (we literally take over) and we have a nice little chat about the Jesus and love and my plans for life (seriously, how does this conversation always come up?). But because of Lent my grandmother has been thinking about the family members who are not at the bagel shop because they are soulless, fiery, heathens.
So on Wednesday my grandmother called my restaurant to make a reservation for five people on St Patrick's Day and then asked to talk to B4, who is a cook in the kitchen. As soon as he got off the phone my mother called him. When he got off with her he turned to me.
"I think they are going to have an exorcism."
This got me all excited and giggly and intrigued.
"Ha! They are going to save your heathen ass!"
My grandmother had called to invite him to dinner and then my mother called to make sure he said yes.
"Who are the five people?" he asked me.
"Hm, probably you, Gram, Papa, Jesus and St. Patrick. They're bringing in the big guns for this."
"There is going to have to be a priest. To perform the exorcism."
"Um, St. Patrick is a priest. And you don't think Jesus can handle an exorcism? He is JESUS. He sent the devil into a pack of swine and drove them over a cliff. Oooo I wonder if they will send the devil into our goats? I hope not, I like our goats."
"Annie, the devil isn't in me."
"The devil told you to say that. Good thing St. Patrick is coming. He'll get the devil out of you like he got the snakes out of Ireland."
Notice my great knowledge of Catholic things?
"If St. Patrick does come, I will absolutely convert."
So I gave Jesus the finger pistols, with a wink, and said "Do your magic." Cause that's how we roll.

It turned out that the actual people joining my grandparents for dinner were two priests. Which made me giggle. And get REALLY excited because I thought something fun was going to go down.
I got into work this morning and hopped right over to B4. "Have you been saved?!"
"No."
"Humph, well did they try to save you?"
"No."
"Then what the heck were you there for?"
"Just for dinner, because we haven't had dinner in awhile."
"But the priests!"
"Annie, our grandparents always invite priests to dinner. They feel it is their duty to feed to the priests."
"They didn't try to throw Holy Water on you?"
"No Annie."
Well WHAT is the fun in that? All night I was imagining all sorts of crazy holy things going on at the restaurant. And they just had a nice dinner of corned beef and cabbage, drank Guinness, and chit chatted.
No Holy Water thrown about. No one yelling "The Power Of Christ Compels You!" Not even a, "Listen B4, it's time for you to come back to church, OR ELSE!"
Gosh, real life is boring.
But let's remember: Drinking tequila with Jesus = World peace

Drinking with Jesus and please don't hate me for this.

I've fallen in love with a new singer. Some blog led me to her a few weeks ago, and then I heard her again yesterday and then I finally looked her up and realized she is Christian singer and all of her songs are about Jesus. And I love her music so much that I keep thinking, maybe she will change my relationship with Jesus and I will become the Catholic that my mother wishes I was. And then I will start singing too, and telling everyone about the love of Jesus (which is great). And maybe this nun lifestyle I've started will really pan out into a real nun lifestyle and my grandmother will die happy and my mother will cry and peace will come to my family. Because I said yes to Jesus. All because of this singer.
Yeah, I love her that much.

Except that probably isn't how it will happen at all. Because I love her songs. And I love Jesus of course. But I also love to drink... a lot. So I feel like my relationship with Jesus will always be like Miranda Lambert's.
I'm pretty sure when Jesus and I meet up there will be a lot of wine drinking. And then I'll be like, "Hey Jesus, this is tequila!" and he'll be like "I know it's tequila Annie, I invented it. I also invented limes so please cut them up while I get the salt." And I'll be like "Our God is an awesome God." and he'll be like "I know right? But don't tell Mary." Which works both ways because both of our mothers' names are Mary. But he wouldn't really say that because we both know both Marys know all. Plus we love both Marys very much. And if I told my mother I was drinking tequila with Jesus she would just respond "Of course you are." Because she doesn't like confrontation. And everything is ok if Jesus is involved. And I am getting way too into this.
I love you Jesus. Now I'm going to have a glass of wine and sing about it.


I'm sorry if this offends you. I know it would offend my mother. But this is my relationship with Jesus, and so far things have been good between us, so I am going to keep it up.