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I watched the Academy Awards last Sunday night, like many others, rooting for my favorites and wondering which movies would win and which actors.  It’s fun to guess.  This year I had $5 in a pool of voters, so I had a lot at stake!!!!  (I lost, by the way, badly, but that’s another story.)

What I want to talk about briefly today is how easy it is to be a hypocrite and not even notice.  I say this first of all about myself, because the minute I use someone else as an illustration, I realize that I too make the same kinds of mistakes.  So know as I write these words that I put myself in this category of unwitting hypocrite too.

I’m speaking, though, about Spike Lee, the director this past year of “BlackkKlansman,” which, I will say, was my favored movie to win Best Picture.  I thought it was a well done film, memorable, with substance and gravitas, a film to last for a long while if it had won this major award.  Poor Mr. Lee has not done well in the awards department, having never won as Best Director, so he’s due.  He’s a good director, I’m told.  I wouldn’t know.  I always think I could direct a movie; it doesn’t look that difficult.  Then my husband rolls his eyes, my son walks out of the room in disgust, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing, made the absolute wrong assumption.

Anyway, just in case you didn’t watch the Awards program this past week, Spike Lee did win an Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay for “BlackkKlansman,” and at the end of his very muddled speech, he launched into a plan to derail Trump’s second run for the presidency.  “Let’s all mobilize,” he said. “Make the moral choice between love versus hate.  Let’s do the right thing!”

“Let’s do the right thing!”

“Make the moral choice between love versus hate.”

Got it.

Only, not even a few hours later, Mr. Lee was criticizing the movie “Green Book” for willing Best Picture with some not very nice comments and unloving statements.  Where’s the love?  Where’s the right thing when what he wanted to happen didn’t happen?

It’s called hypocrisy when you say one thing and then turn right around and do another. Or say one thing and then an hour later say something completely opposite of what you said earlier.

We all do it; we’re all guilty of it.

I just wish that Spike Lee – public figure that he is, admired by so many that he also is – would recognize that words and attitude coming from him mean something and say a lot more than cries to do the right thing and make the moral choice between love and hate do.

And then I’ll also take what I’m writing here to heart in my own life.

Sometimes making a decision feels better even than eating ice cream.

Michael and I have been debating, talking, processing, thinking over the last year or so about our living situation: should we stay where we are, in a rather large (4,000 square feet) house with a big back yard and a pool and spa which are hardly ever used or downsize to a smaller house, even though the one we’re in now suits us as far as floor plan (no formal dining room, no family room, we each have an office, there are two guest rooms and a master bedroom, and all on one floor except for one guest room which we never ever go into) and location?

And then, through a set of circumstances, we found ourselves with lots of quiet time, so we set about talking to one another A LOT!!  And we listened A LOT to what we each had to say, how we felt, our dreams and plans for the future.

And we came to a wonderful consensus that we wanted to stay where we were, unused swimming pool and all.  (I must confess that the pool guy for some strange and unexplained reason doesn’t send us a bill and hasn’t for a few years.  So it’s essentially a free pool, which makes it a lot more palatable to own for when it’s wanted during the summer for grandkids and poolside parties.)

So now we’re on a mission to rehabilitate our house so that it’s the way we want it for the remainder of the time we will live in it: new flooring (that is not carpet) in the bedrooms and two offices, new windows that will do a better job keeping us insulated and draft-free, tiles on the roof repaired.  You get it.

But what really feels good about all of this is that we have made a decision, we’ve made it together, we’re on the same page about it, and we’re moving forward!!!

Are there decisions in your life that you need to make, but you find yourself stalled, unable to pull the trigger?  I’m praying for you, even if I don’t know who you are  specifically or what the details of your decisions are.  Because I know what it’s like to be undecided…and then I know the wonderful joy and relief of decision making.  And I want that for everyone reading this.

First of all, my disclaimer: what I’m about to share with you is not scary at all compared to what many of you reading this are facing.  I realize that.  So don’t shoot the messenger.  But this is my experience, and so I share it because it’s what I have, what’s happening to me now, and maybe it will help someone even a little bit.

I suffer from migraine headaches,  as many of you know, and have done so for almost 50 years.  They have morphed and changed patterns over the years, but they have always remained knock-outs when a bad one comes along, and in recent years I’ve had bad ones about six to ten times a month.  At those times I take to my bed, close up the room to make it as dark as possible, go into a fetal position (figuratively) and try to sleep if I can.  I lose at least a day in my life. (And losing a day at my age is no small thing anymore!). 

Now along has come a new migraine drug that is a co-venture between Amgen and Novartis, called Aimovig, and I qualified for the trials and had success there, so I’m now on a regular prescription basis: once a month I inject myself with an Epi-pen with the Aimovig and hope for the best.

So far, so good.

The Aimovig seems to be changing my headaches.

For the better.

So here’s the scary part: My headaches almost always start in the wee hours of the morning: midnight, 1 a.m., 2 a.m.  In the past, I would get up, take an Imitrex, go back to bed and sleep, then wake up headache free.  The problem is that you can only take so much Imitrex, as it’s not good for your organs or something.  Of course not.  There must be a catch if a drug does something as miraculous as getting rid of a migraine when it starts!  So whenever I have a clear day, with nothing going on, I have had to allow the headache to get worse and take to my bed, as described above, and waste a day.  Then for some strange reason my system re-boots itself and I can usually go about a week without a sign of a headache.  Don’t ask me why; in fact, don’t ask my neurologists why.  No one seems to know how the brain or the nervous system works for each migraine sufferer.

But now, with the Aimovig, there’s a new pattern: when the headache begins, if I get up and don’t take the Imitrex, there’s a good chance that the headache will go away on its own. 

I say “good chance” because there’s the possibility too that it won’t.  That’s the risk referred to in the title of this piece.  If it’s a day that has a lot to it: I’m teaching, we’re going out to dinner, the theater, whatever, can I risk not taking my Imitrex and winding up with a really bad headache that means I can’t function?

My neurologist has said that I have to push through this concern and take the risk to let the Aimovig do its thing.  Easy for him to say. But when you’re sitting up in bed at midnight and contemplating the to-do list for that day, and when you know that popping an Imitrex will quickly solve the headache problem, and if you don’t take it, your headache might get worse, what would you do?  I’ve even taken to getting up at midnight and going to my home office, because there seems to be something about getting up and starting to function normally that affects the headaches positively and sends them on their way.  But again, it’s a calculated risk. Every time I don’t take the Imitrex and let the Aimovig work, and the headache – however slight – does go away, I’m encouraged the next time to not take the Imitrex.

But it’s a risk.  Always a risk.  And always scary.

That feeling of suddenly realizing you’re headache free is one of the great wonders of my life now.  Makes me almost break into song.

What is there in YOUR life that scares you but that you try to do anyway?  I think we all have actions and deeds that we know we have to risk doing because we’re better people when we do.  But that doesn’t mean the scariness goes away.  And it doesn’t make the risk any less.

So I sort of know what you’re going through, and I do feel your pain, a bit.

Let’s try to be braver together.

I realize more and more that I’m a sucker for the ads on Facebook.

So far this year I’ve bought a bracelet (which promptly fell apart), a bra guaranteed to be the most comfortable piece of clothing which you’ll ever wear, and which felt slightly less comfortable than a suit of armor when I tried to put it on (unsuccessfully), and a hand-held vacuum which supposedly gets into the hard to vacuum places like drawers and keyboards but which I failed to realize requires a real vacuum on the end of it to work.  (I thought it was self-contained, and so I marveled at the genius of it.  So much so that I bought one for my son and one for my daughter. Yes, I bought three.  Two of them are still sitting here at my house; one is still in the original box.  I literally can’t give them away.  I am out about $60 for that stupidity.)  I’ve also bought a few other items which I won’t share with you, because I think I’ve successfully made my point.

I know that Facebook knows full well that putting ads on its website is going to garner customers, because, come on, otherwise why are they doing it?  And I’m one of those customers, apparently, who sees something and can’t resist.  Everything looks absolutely wonderful when I see the little boxed ad in my post feed, and I must have it.

But when it finally comes to my house and I unwrap it, it’s never – well, almost never – as wonderful as it appeared in the ad.  It didn’t change my life and make me smarter, more beautiful, younger, sexier, cooler, or whatever else it was promising.  The shoes from Brazil are not that comfortable.  The pillow guaranteed to give me the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had.  Nope.  Fail.

So I’m looking to join a support group called Suckers Anonymous, even as I know that writing this means I’m not anonymous anymore. I admit I need help.

And isn’t that the first step toward recovery?

So here I am, posting this on Facebook, and while I’m here….

On a cheerier note than last week (note sarcasm), the house next door to us was robbed this past Sunday night.  I know this because at about 8:30 in the evening, a police officer knocked on the door to inform us of this and wanting to know if we had seen or heard anything unusual.  I was watching television in our bedroom, cuddled up with the two dogs, so, no, I heard or saw nothing.

But I can tell you that I heard and saw plenty in my mind all through that night: visions of robbers coming in while we were out, taking computers, TV’s, paintings, the dogs (sometimes that’s not a bad fantasy), that violation that happens when someone uninvited comes into your home and takes what doesn’t belong to them.  I thought how vulnerable my computer is; I put it to sleep every night, don’t bother to actually turn it off.  All my Excel files are there with passwords and account numbers on the spreadsheets, the computer itself can be turned on with a touch to the space bar, and everything is easy access.  (I’m saying this because by the time you read this, that will all have changed.  Safeguards are being put in place.  Two robberies in this neighborhood in the last year have assured us that it’s time for action.)

It’s amazing how vulnerable you feel and how fast when a burglary occurs even close by.  Therefore I can’t even imagine what it must be like to have that violation occur in your own home.  I’m looking outside into our backyard more often, checking the Ring application with a camera on our front porch frequently, more aware of noises and sounds that previously I would have ignored.

I don’t like this.

I don’t like the vulnerability, the focus away from other things in my life that are more important and more worthwhile.

But I’m trying to accept this as one of many life lessons to be learned: I’m not in control, things happen, keep on truckin’.  And hey, it hasn’t happened to me, so stop acting as if it has.

Sometimes we worry about things that haven’t happened to us.  Sometimes we worry about things that have.  That’s why we’re told in the New Testament: “Do not be anxious (or worry) about anything, but in every situation, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7)  It does say don’t worry about anything, which I assume must include things that have happened to us and things that might, and it does say that in every situation we’re to tell God about it and let Him walk through it with us.

So I’m trying to do that and waiting for the promised peace of God to settle on me.

And I think – although a security system is not a bad idea and one we’re looking into – that’s a better answer than anything manmade.

I admit to being grumpy.  In fact, I think I’m getting more grumpy as I get older.  Things tick me off, more than they used to.  I often think I should have been a film-TV critic, someone who gets paid to be critical and grumpy; that would be perfectly in line with my current continual grumpiness.

I’ll give you a good example: “Madam Secretary.”  I used to enjoy this CBS show starring Tia Leoni and Tim Daly, two actors I have always appreciated, a show that was created by Barbara Hall, a lady who has similar spiritual values to mine, I believe.  Michael and I have followed this series since its inception four years ago, and we have admired the high moral ground it has always followed.

Until recently, it has been entertaining.

I say “until recently” because as I was watching the most current episode, I realized – and got grumpier and grumpier while watching it – that it was no longer entertainment but had become propaganda, as so many television programs (and movies) have done recently, since the election of 2016, when everyone, it seems, feels the necessity to let everyone else know that they have the moral high ground even when the Oval Office does not.

“Madam Secretary” does everything but stop short and have its actors deliver lines directly into the camera to prove the points they are trying to make, points that are always noble and altruistic and ones that only an idiot (of course) would disagree with.

So I wasn’t entertained.  Not at all.  I just was grumpy.

Same thing with watching the Golden Globes Awards ceremony.  Why can’t everyone just be entertaining and forget that they are not the bringers of truth and justice to the television viewing audience, who obviously, they feel, wouldn’t know truth and justice unless they were handed to them by celebrities who “get it” deeply and purely?  Except you and I know that this is not always the case; in fact, it’s almost never the case, so I get grumpier and grumpier as I watch the awards ceremonies turn into propaganda programs instead of the entertaining shows they are meant to be.  Everyone gets so sanctimonious as they deliver “sermons” that they each think will make them look superior to everyone else because they, yes, they have the moral high ground that everyone else seems lacking.  You see, I’m getting irritated and grumpy already, just writing this.

Yes, I know, just stop watching TV and seeing movies that take these positions.  I get it.

But hey, if they have a right to spout their platitudes, don’t I have a right to watch and be grumpy?

What I also object to, as long as I’m on a soapbox, is that there’s a lot of hypocrisy floating around when people rant and rave about how immoral and bad everyone else is, then praise characters – either real or make believe – that are extremely flawed.  I’m all for artistic integrity and creative license; I don’t expect every movie to be honey-sweet and about characters that are pure and flawless.  That would be boring and unwatchable, the worst of Hallmark made-for-TV movies.  I’d be the first to turn that kind of endeavor off.  But what I object to – what makes me grumpy – is idolizing the subjects of those films that are artistically well done.  For example, if you read legitimate biographies about Freddie Mercury, the distraught, disturbed leader of the rock group Queen and the subject of the movie “Bohemian Rhapsody,” you will discover that he was not a nice man.  He was often mean spirited and treated people less than kindly most of the time.  So why do we bow to him as if he were a god and worship at a shrine that he doesn’t deserve?  He may have been a talented musician, but let’s stop there.  We can watch a well-made movie about Adolf Hitler without idolizing the man about whom the movie is made.

This  is yet another example of what makes me grumpy.

And so, you can see, much is making me grumpy lately.  And that’s my problem, no one else’s.  I can’t lay it off on the entertainment business or anything or anyone else.  It’s on me, mine to change, mine to cope with, mine to repent of.

And so I have another early New Year’s resolution kind of question for you, and this one may be a little strange, but it’s applicable to what I’ve been sharing here: what makes you grumpy?  And what grumpiness do you need to repent of?  I would say to ask those around you, but that may be risky business.  Do it at your own peril.  But at least let’s be honest with ourselves and evaluate our grumpiness at the beginning of 2019 and see what we can do to change to make ourselves more likeable to ourselves and others around us, no matter what’s going on.  It’s not about the Oval Office or current laws or who’s doing what where.

It’s really pretty basic: How far away from being like Jesus am I?  Because I don’t think Jesus was ever too grumpy, was He?

It’s 2019.

I know you know that.

2018 was weird.  I know you know that too.

What do you want to do differently this year?  How do you want to make this a better year than the one before?

It’s a time for resolutions, for vows, for promises, for changing the behaviors we don’t like about ourselves.

Me, I just want to lose that last elusive, nasty 10 pounds that keeps making my jeans not fit right, first off.  Not the most important thing on my “to do” list, but it always seems to be hovering in plain sight on my mind.  Often while I’m eating another piece of the See’s Candy that were gifted to us for Christmas.

I want to read more.  I want to remember better what I do read.

I want to stay “in the moment.”  That seems like such a cliched phrase, but it’s true: often I find myself thinking about tonight or tomorrow or next week and missing what’s happening right now that could or should be significant and enjoyable.

I want to appreciate the people around me and let them know that I appreciate them.  Life’s too short to not tell them.

I’d be happy and content with those four resolutions.

How about you?

Again, what is my take-away from my trip to Israel?

Now that I’ve been home for almost two weeks, what lingers in my mind’s eye, what truths are in my heart permanently after our trip to the Holy Land?  Last week I shared what surprises the visit had for me: the crowds, the commercialism, the complications of the history and the current political and social situation.

Today I’d like to finish my thoughts about the trip to Israel with what I think I’ll keep forever in my heart:

First, if you’re a believer in and follower of Jesus, you can’t help but be touched and moved by being there, by seeing with your eyes and touching with your fingers and reaching out with your own soul the land where He walked and lived and taught and eventually died and rose again.  He never left this country, so what you are seeing are the boundaries of His human existence.  And it is now so vivid for me to read, for example, the gospel accounts of His walks from one town to another as He taught and lived life with His disciples and those who walked along with Him.  Those weren’t easy walks.  The roads were rough and sometimes dangerous.  The distances He and His disciples traveled were longer than I had thought they were, walking and talking and sharing whatever food they had along the way.  Now that I have seen the terrain and the countryside, I can appreciate more than ever what His days and weeks looked like while He ministered to the people around Him.  Those are images that are invaluable in terms of my own Bible study and teaching and, probably more importantly, in my own journey with Jesus.

Secondly, I have come to understand what a complicated situation exists in the Holy Land between the Palestinians and the Israelis and other groups who are involved.  As is almost always the case, there are two or three or sometimes even four sides to the story.  No one is completely innocent or completely guilty.  Everyone feels they have right on their side, God on their side.  These issues are so layered and intense that it’s no wonder to me that governments and bodies like the United Nations have been unable to define a workable peace.

Then, the phrase that keeps repeating itself over and over in my mind is this: Israel is not for the faint of heart, both spiritually and physically.  I’ve been to countries in my travels over the years that have required a degree of physical agility (Greece comes to mind), but none compare to the physical skill and stamina required when you’re hiking and sight-seeing in the Holy Land.  Added to that is the amount of mental material you are trying to absorb, and you can almost feel your brain exploding.  This is perhaps why I maintain that I’m still processing the trip and all that we saw and learned even though it’s been a few weeks since we were there.  I sincerely believe it will be many more weeks if not months before I truly understand what I have experienced.  Maybe I never will get it all soaked in and absorbed.  That’s okay too.  It’s a trip to be savored and remembered and re-lived over and over again.

Lastly, let me encourage those of you who have never been to Israel to consider going, especially if you are a follower of Jesus.  A trip there will broaden your spiritual insights and your relationship with God in a way that travel to other places will not.  It’s well worth the effort and the expense (and the long flight).  Put it on your bucket list and try to go while you’re spry and as healthy as possible.  You will not regret it.

And some time if you’re with me in person, ask to see my photos, on my iPhone.  They’re actually quite nice, I think, and I’ll even do a running monologue to go along with them!

I’m going to take a bit of a break from Rita’s Ramblings for the rest of this year to read and relax and study for what I’m teaching at our womens’ Bible study at church, Connection, which will reunite on January 17.

So let me take a minute to wish everyone reading this a very, very happy and blessed Christmas, wherever you are around the world, and a New Year filled with God’s blessings and the peace that passes all understanding.  I’d offer the “next year in Jerusalem” prayer, but I don’t think I’ll be going back to the Holy Land that soon!

With love and greetings of peace and shalom to all of you, Rita

(The photo is of the Wailing Wall, now referred to as the Western Wall, the men separated from the women by a partition.)

What was I expecting?

A mystical, ultra-spiritual environment where people read their Bibles all day long, prayed incessantly, and lived a combination Old/New Testament existence because of where they were living geographically?  (I also expected everyone in London to be reading something of Shakespeare’s when I went to the U.K. for the first time a year after graduating college.  And boy, I was sorely disappointed!)  No, people were not reading Bibles or Torah scrolls, nor praying – not even making attempts at praying except at the Wailing (now called the Western) Wall.  Instead, Israel seems to me like a very secular, tourist-centered nation focused more on that trade than on the religious aspect of its existence, despite being the place where the three major religions – Christianity, Judaism, and Islam – find their roots.

A place struggling with so many issues that it is hard to feel it able to relax and breathe comfortably.  A country where past history is intricate and amazing, and the current political and social situation is more complicated than anything I’ve ever experienced or read about.  Our tour guide Brian said, “You will be more confused at the end of this tour than you are at the beginning.”  He was right.  I read the six or so books on his reading list to prepare for this trip, books about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, about the history of the nation of Israel, about how God has worked and moved among the Jewish people, among the Palestinian people.  And still I don’t understand a modicum of what I’ve read or seen.  My mind is still in a muddle. 

A landscape that is at once beautiful and striking and then filled with trash.  The city of Bethlehem, for example, seems to have no pride in keeping trash off the sidewalks and curbs.  It is everywhere.  But then you drive out into the country and the views and sights are panoramic and breathtaking.  Desert and palm trees, reminding you that you are indeed in the Middle East, where it’s hot and arid.  And then a mountain that makes you feel like you’re near the Andes.  Contrast.  So much contrast.

I’ll share some more next week.  I’m still processing what I saw and heard and touched and experienced.  It’s not a place that you can define clearly and sharply in a day or in a week, with precision and finality.

On Wednesday morning, November 7, a friend’s husband died.  He had been ill off and on for several years, so it was not unexpected, yet for her and their family, it is a personal tragedy.  That’s all I will say about it, because I haven’t asked her permission to say more, nor is it my story to tell.  (I was writing this from Israel, so permission was difficult to obtain.)

On Wednesday night, November 7, a shooter, a disturbed young man, a veteran, killed a number of young people at a local Thousand Oaks establishment where several hundred young adults were gathered to be together to dance and to have fun.  This was a shock to a community deemed one of the nation’s safest cities.  And a tragedy to many families who suffered the loss of a loved one or a friend.  When we awoke to this news Thursday morning, it changed our lives forever.  We were reeling with emotion and feeling all kinds of things in the wake of this event.

While on a 13-hour flight to Tel Aviv, Israel, on Thursday, November 8, blissfully ignorant of what was going on in the Thousand Oaks area where we live, flames were destroying lives once again, not to mention homes.  High winds and dry brush – always a deadly combination – were threatening homes from one end of the Conejo Valley to the other.  As we got texts from family and friends after landing and turning off “airplane mode,” Michael and I were faced with decisions: should we turn around and go home? Because our home was in the line of fire, our house/dog sitter had evacuated with them to a farther away location, and we were constantly being updated as to the danger our house and our neighborhood were in.  It’s extremely frustrating, I learned, to be so far away and feel so helpless when the place where you live and the home you love are in danger, not to mention the people you hold most dear.

As I write this from Israel a few days later, the fire danger is much lower, but winds are predicted to start up again, and that could mean the danger level rises once more.  So this story is not over; it may be by the time this is posted, or it may not.  Surely those who are devastated by the tragedies mentioned know in their lives that it’s not over in a day or two but will take months and perhaps years – if ever – to at least regain some semblance of normalcy once again.

So there’s personal tragedy, losing a spouse after a long and arduous illness.  Terrible, terrible grief.  And an adjustment to a “new normal” of widowhood and being alone in life.

Then there’s the tragedy of a shooter walking into a club where people are having a fun evening and taking everything away from them in a flash, a few minutes of noise and chaos and fear.  Lives forever changed or impacted by one person’s inability to get help, to cope with whatever demons drove him to this act of insanity.

And then there’s the act of nature, fires that move without emotion or reason and burn whatever is in their path, turned away or stopped only by water and the will of determined fire fighters who are trained to put their lives on the line for the lives and property protection of others.

My community, my friends, my life are touched and changed forever.  When I get home from this trip to Israel, where my Saviour spoke to His followers about loving beyond anything anyone had ever heard of or seen before, I pray that I may do what He asks me to do with a willing and obedient heart.  And I hope to share with all of you reading this some of the amazing truths and insights I’m learning here.

I’m posting this now, this morning, November 21, having come home to blackened hills, the smell of smoke in the air, and ash in the master bathtub where we forgot to close a window.  A tree branch which must have blown down in the high winds and which now sits in our backyard, on our fake grass, so its only crime is being unsightly.  No real permanent damage, nothing that can’t be washed or cleaned up or remedied.  Not so the lives lost in the fires up north, the homes lost both north and around here, the hard work yet to be done to bring life back to a semblance of normalcy.

I’ll tell you more about Israel next week.

For now, I’m just glad I’m home, I’m glad that I have a home, and if you’re reading this, I pray that your Thanksgiving tomorrow is filled with an awareness of just how thankful we should be this year.