I've created a separate blog for more professional purposes. You can read about the Run for the Fallen and  others things (which are written more eloquently there) that I've posted here at http://revrost.blogspot.com/

It rained in the middle of the night and steam is rising from the still wet fence. I have a ton of things to do to get ready for niece's arrival tomorrow but I'm still feeling hung-over from the week. And actually, since I only had alcohol on Tuesday, this is totally unfair.
The DNC was incredible. Well, once I made it in, after waiting in line for 3 hours.
It was amazing to hear the speeches by various politicos, but even more profound to hear the "everyday people" speak of how the last eight years of the Bush regime has negatively impacted their lives...jobs and health insurance lost, homes in jeopardy, education quality spiraling down.
Of course, the most amazing moment was when Obama spoke. As I said, I am a Hillary girl and was really angry at how the primaries went down. It seemed to be such a good old boys network. She made mis-steps, too, of course, but the whole thing reeked of sexism.
I had told friends I would vote for Obama but I wasn't going to put a bumper sticker on my car.
But after seeing him and hearing his speech, I have to say I will gladly put his bumper sticker on my car. I came away feeling that there is truly hope for our country after all. That perhaps this can be a new day.
Even my life-long die-hard Republican brother-in-law said, after watching the speech, that he was seriously leaning toward Obama come November. Now, that's saying something!
What was also amazing was just being a part of history... a black man accepting the nomination for the Democratic candidate for President.

They had a great retrospective on Dr. MLK Jr. since it was the 45th anniversary of his "I have a Dream" speech. There were shirts and buttons with a picture of MLK and Obama saying "The Dreamer" next to King and "The Dream" next to Obama. And I thought that Dr. King would probably have been so proud of this moment, to see the fruits of his labors in such a monumental way.

And I thought of all the movements toward justice in the last century and into this one... the Southern Freedom movement, the feminist movement, the gay rights movement...how it does seem as if perhaps all those efforts--which felt so futile at the time-- are bearing fruit.

I mean, to think that the two main contenders for the Democratic ticket were a woman and a black man. The DNC would have been historic either way. And, as I mentioned a couple days ago, same sex marriages are becoming a reality.

Of course, there is still much work to do. Women's right to choice is continually under attack, poverty and lack of health insurance still hound much of America, we're in a war which I consider to be unjust. But perhaps the signs of change can give those of us who are activists renewed hope and vigor to continue the struggle for justice and peace.

As Dr. King said, at the National Cathedral on March 31, 1968, "We shall overcome because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice."
At the DNC, I saw that to be true.

My life has been extremely busy and, at times, overwhelming but mostly good. On Sunday I preached at All Souls, went to lunch with friends I haven't seen in too long a time, officiated at a wedding, came home to change and then participated in a "Run for the Fallen" --a local event that coincided with the national one. Ours was held at Ft. Carson. Together with some peeps from AS (one whose husband is currently serving in Iraq) I walked 3 miles in honor of those who have been killed in Iraq. (more on that later) Then I went to a party for the closing ceremony of the Olympics. Yesterday morning I had a people hangover. It's a good thing Monday is my day off.
I did have lunch yesterday with a friend from Topeka, and her partner, who was in the area. C and I have been friends since I was 18 years old. I came out as a lesbian when I was 16 and heard about a group called TLC--the Topeka Lesbian Community. I knew they met weekly and I would often drive by the nights they held their meetings and longingly wish I could go inside, but I figured it was for adults only. So when the week I turned 18 I showed up and attended every meeting until I joined the USAF.
C and I talked about those days...how it was a special time to be a lesbian in the late 70s in Topeka, KS. We all wore flannel shirts and jeans, most had short-cropped hair (not me..I was too chicken to get my hair cut at the time and had it styled the way it had been for years...shoulder length and bangs feathered back). There was a sense of radicalism in being a lesbian then... alternative insemination was virtually unheard of, marriage not even on the radar. There were no social networks outside of the TLC and The Lambda (the one bar in town, seedy, run-down with exotic drag shows on Friday nights). Feminism and women's rights, pro-choice were all big deals back then and we members of the TLC did our part. There were no vehicles with rainbow bumper stickers. There were no "out" singers or entertainers (although everyone assumed Liberace was gay)  and women's music was shared with the lesbian community via a small record company called Olivia. Singers like Cris Williamson and Meg Christian, Tret Fure and Deirdre McCalla, Teresa Trull and the Berkely Women's Music Collectice would travel across the country playing on college campuses and small venues. The Changer and the Changed  by Cris Williamson was the largest grossing album by Olivia, having sold more than 100,000 copies... in 10 years. AIDS was a gathering storm of which we were ignorant. Everyone smoked.
It was a magical time and a historic time, too, I think. We were on the verge of something big, we felt and yet we were also a small enclave of women who came together to create community. 
I remember those days like a crisp autumn season, the air brisk , the colors vibrant, both life and death crackling in the trees of possibilities.
It made me reflect on my life's journey since then, the autumns I've lived through, the lives and deaths I've experienced, the many changes I've undergone. In some ways I've come so far from that 16, 17, 18 year old girl I was back then and yet, in other ways, I am still her. She is still me, radical and bold, timid and tentative, longing to change the world and striving to find her place in it.
I feel a little sorry for those coming out as lesbian or gay today, whisking off to California or Massachusetts to get married, considering children in their future as a matter of right, not as battles to be won. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad for these opportunities (and have certainly availed myself of alternative insemination to my ever-lasting joy). I'm glad for youth support groups and services and for laws on the dockets in states and cities and companies providing protection for LGBT employees. I'm glad Melissa came out, and the Indigo Girls and Greg Louganis. It would have been great if all that had taken place when I was 16, wearing a t-shirt to high school proclaiming "How Dare You Assume I'm Heterosexual!" But I gained something in those lean years when the only affirmation we had was given by one another, when the only role models were the ones we were creating. It was a sisterhood, a family, it truly was a community of TLC-- tender, loving care.

As we left the restaurant, C hugged me, and said, a little sheepishly, "I don't know if I ever told you, but I had the biggest crush on you in those days." I laughed, remembering how much in awe of was of the women in the TLC when I first joined. They were all at least 9 years older than me and I thought them so wise and powerful and wonderful. 
"That's funny," I said. "I had crushes on all of you."

I feel loved when...

The Five Love Languages

My Primary Love Language is Quality Time

About this quiz

Unhappiness in relationships is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. It can be helpful to know what language you speak and what language those around you speak.

Tag 3 people so they can find out what their love language is.

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Okay, so I have been a fickle lj friend, recently. My apologies. Part of the reason is that I've been doing a ton of traveling and part of the reason is that I've felt....I dunno...maybe like I've been on an emotional roller-coaster for several reasons. So, I want to share some of my learnings, reflections with the home team without getting bogged down into "and then on this day, this happened," so I'll share my journey metaphorically, what I'm learning, how I'm growing.

It has been cold and snowy here, although I missed some of the snow during my gig in TaFa (my own mneumonics for WichiTA FAlls, TX) where I've been doing some work as their transistional pastor. Anyway, I came back on Christmas Eve to find it had snowed some, it snowed some more on Christmas Day, I think, then it became sunny although the roads were still snow-packed and icy in spots. The angle of the sun just isn't close enough to let the snow melt quickly as it will in March or April.
I had to meet with the pastor of the Denver church to talk over details of my gig with them so we decided to meet in Castle Rock, which is about halfway between the Denver and COS. My ex (Sam's other mom. For some reason I always feel like I have to explain that. I should capitalize it: My Ex. All the women I've been with since our break up 10 years ago are minor exes--my apologies to any minor exes reading this, but I think they'll all get the point) ANYWAY, my Ex didn't want me to drive my POS Beetle (which can high center out on about 2 inches of snow) over Monument Pass so she lent me her Grand Cherokee.
The roads were clear at first, even on the north end of COS but, sure enough, the closer I got to Monument the more snow-encrusted they became. I may have mentioned this before, but I HATE drive in precipitation. In dry, sunny conditions, I'm the fastest driver on the road (and I have a ticket history to prove it). My goal is to pass the car ahead of me, and then the car ahead of that one. I don't know why. But if it's raining or snowing and the roads are wet or snowy or icy, I'm the slowest driver on the road, hunched tightly over my steering wheel, hands white-knuckled in the 10 and 2 position, driving about 20 mph (and generally pissing off the other drivers)...and that's on the Interstate.
I realized, that instead of feeling safer, I felt more endangered driving Kim's big rig. It felt cumbersome and unwieldy, It took longer to brake, when necessary, and I didn't know its quirks, its responses, like I do my (POS) Beetle.
As I was driving, nervously, down I-25, thinking about all this, I suddenly realized that I have recently been living life in the same manner. On dry, sunny days, when things seem to be going well in all my various relationships with my son, my family, my friends, exes (major and minor), when I think I know what I want and where I'm going, I zip along, sun-roof open, singing gustily with the tunes on my iPod cranked loud on the seat beside me, one hand draped over the wheel casually, as if I know there is nothing to fear (the other hand probably texting someone). But when the weather goes south, when things get rough, when I am in a pitched maelstrom of unclear choices and destinations, when I can't see 2 feet in front of me to know what's coming next, I slow down, I grip the wheel of my life, I drive in fear of what might happen just around the bend, I consider all the dangers of traveling on dark and stormy nights. I want to turn around and go home. And just like it was worse driving the Ex's car and not my own, it's also worse when I attempt to manuever through life's storms in ways that aren't true to me. I mean, hey, I may just be the equivalent of a Beetle, but I know me, inside and out, I know which tires are bald, that my starter's going out but that I have a kick-ass iPod stereo (and that's what really counts).
I thought, I wonder what would happen, if I just relaxed my grip a bit-- here, on this trip to Castle Rock, and in my life. If I stopped seeing stormy weather as something to dread and instead just used appropriate caution, saw it as a sign to slown down, to yield if necessary, but to keep going forward fearlessly, confident of my ability to weather the storm.
I made it to Castle Rock and back safely, after all. On Tuesday, Sam's first day back after break, we awoke to a snowy morning, with more coming down. We turned on the TV hoping for a snow day but saw that it was not to be. Still, as I drove him to school and made my way back, on the snow-covered, icy-slick streets, I noticed a change in my driving. I was sitting comfortably in the driver's seat, both hands on the wheel, but loosely. I manuevered past cars skidding out and cars going slower than me (!) casually, but with care. Not only did Sam and I both survive the perilous trip, but it was more fun. And the result was the same as it would have been, if I had been fearfully creeping through the streets. More relaxed, I was also able to take in the breath-taking beauty of Pikes Peak, covered in snow, and the foothills, pine-tree covered sugared in white.
And since that trip to Castle Rock, since my revelation, I've also been living life in much the same manner. I won't always know what's right around the bend, I can only see the horizon as clearly or poorly as life's conditions allow. But I am driving at ease now, content to take in the sights along the way, content to get there in my own time, rain or shine, content to fearlessly drive down Destiny's highway.