Bfth's Boring Blog

My son is not a fan of homework.  I can't blame him.  Is there a kid out there who LIKES homework?  Surely there must be some, but...  When I was a kid, I wasn't a fan of homework either.  Now that I'm an adult, I don't have to do homework, right?  Well...it depends on how you look at it. Maybe it's not exactly homework, but it IS work and it IS important for me to do.  It's important for ALL of us to do.  And that is to do our own (personal) research/homework when it comes to making a decision on who (or in referendum cases what) to vote for.  Each of us have our own values.  Each of us have differing opinions.  Each and every one of us needs to take the time and put in the effort to decide what is best for us before casting that vote. For me, it starts on a local level.  Several years ago, I realized that it was my obligation to find out more about candidates for our town council.  That mission led me to writing  this .  As a result, I've worked

(Explanation:  From time to time I fill in when our pastor is away.  Today was one of those Sundays.  This mediation was inspired by my congregation as well as Psalm 150 and Ephesians 4:  1-7 and 25-32) Here we are; the 2nd Sunday of Easter; the 2000+ Easter in history and the 120+ Easter celebration for this congregation.  The Good News has been spread for over 2000 years and we, as a congregation have been sharing it for 125 years. Think of how amazing that is.  For over 2000 years the message has been spread and shared. They didn’t even have Facebook back then! Yet the message still persisted. Word of mouth, written word, digital; the story of the resurrection and God’s love continues.  And we are a part of that. All of us, those here in the pews today and those of us who part of this church family who aren’t here, share the story. Each and every one of us, no matter how old or young, has a vital part in declaring God’s love. The news of God’s love is unchanging;

I am DONE with middle school.  I am DONE with the drama.  I am DONE with the "assessments."  I am DONE with the teenage angst.  I am JUST DONE! There are still 8 weeks left to the school year, but I am just OVER it all.   I  am ready to move on to high school and the next phase of life.  Surely it's going to be a better four years?  (Don't laugh and whisper, "Who are you trying to kid Bfth?" to me!) Just so you know (in case you didn't), I am NOT in middle school, but my son IS.  I LOVE my kid.  Maybe I should rephrase that:  I LOVE my teen/not quite young adult.  However, these past 4 years have been EXHAUSTING.  (And I am still of the mind that middle school should be grades 6-8 and NOT 5-8, but...)  Was middle school always so challenging? I think back to my own experiences in middle school; the same school that my son attends.  (Although back then it WAS only grade 6-8.)   To be honest, there really aren't that many memories.

I've lived over a half a century and I'll admit until today I had no idea what maundy meant.  I'd heard the term Maundy Thursday before, but I'd never taken the time to find out what it meant. I knew that Maundy Thursday better as Holy Thursday.  The Thursday before Easter when Jesus "celebrated" (hardly a celebration in my book) Passover with his disciples.  He knew it was to be his last meal with them.  (So it makes sense to me that communion; a "reenactment" if you will of this meal is also called the Last Supper.)  Jesus washed their feet (From John 13:   When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them.    “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am.    Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.    I have set you an example that you should do as I have

The world bent collective head in sorrow the other day as fire consumed Notre Dame Cathedral in France.  A sacred space to many Christians; it was and IS also a place of history and art.  It doesn't matter who you are; everyone can appreciate the beauty that is Notre Dame.  To see the blaze devour the roof and to watch in horror as the spire crumbed; didn't we all break a little inside? As horrific as the scene was there is still light and there is still hope. The fire is out; the painful damage is done.  Yet... (Photo taken from Skynews) The first thing that came to my mind when I saw this was from the book of John:  " In the beginning was the Word,  and the Word was with God,  and the Word was God.     He was with God in the beginning.     Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.   In him was life,  and that life was the light  of all mankind.     The light shines in the darkness,  and the darkness has not overcome

Palm Sunday:  a time to celebrate Christ's arrival into Jerusalem.  I know many churches (mine included) that begin the service on a high note and then end on a more solemn one as Christians prepare for Holy Week.  I think that's important because there is more to the story than just a triumphant arrival and resurrection.  There is suffering, pain, and conflict during the week that starts with the joy of Palm Sunday and ends with the miracle of Easter.  We need to know that.  We need to reflect on it during the week. We need to know the FULL story.  That there is more to it than just Palm Sunday and Easter. But for now, I need to celebrate.  While I know of the dark journey in the week ahead, I don't want to cloud the meaning and importance of this day.  I want to sing.  I want to wave palm branches.  I want to shout loud Hosannas.  I wanted to join the procession with all the elation that I have.   I imagine the jubilation that must have been felt as Christ ca

Listen to me. How many times a day do we say that? How many times do you feel like you are NOT being listened to? I'm a mom.  I feel like 99% of the time, I'm not listened to.  It's frustrating.  It's annoying.  And I get majorly pissed off about it at times.  Then I explode.  Then there's a BIG mess.  Which eventually gets resolved and life goes on in my house.  Until it happens again. Why does no one listen to me?  Why does NO ONE EVER listen to me?!?!?! That's an overstatement.  It's a BIG overstatement.  And there's a flip side to it; why do I (yes, ME) not listen. I'm over 50 years old and I'm STILL trying to learn how to be a respectful listener.  It's NOT easy.  I'll probably never get it down completely.  But I need to keep trying; I think we ALL need to keep trying. Listening.  It sounds so easy.  It's NOT.  Not if we are truly listening. When we practice respectful listening, we are opening

All over social media yesterday were photos of friends with their siblings.  Apparently it was National Sibling Day.  (When did this become a thing?) It got me thinking...when people ask me if I'm an only child, I answer yes.  Because I am.  Or rather I am NOW.  I wasn't always.  But when the topic comes up, I feel uncomfortable saying that. So, I am my parent’s only daughter.  Since June of 2012 I have been their only child. For nearly 40 years, I was an older sister.  I still am, but I do not have a younger brother.  I HAD a younger brother.  A brother who was funny and smart; and also at times irresponsible.  (I can say that; he was MY brother. Don't you dare think of saying that.) My mother says he always said he wouldn't live long; or that he wouldn't live past 40.  I don't recall him ever saying that, but it was true.  And I wonder why he thought that.  I wonder how he knew.  Did he know?)  Was there something inside of him that whispered

With spring finally here ( https://bfthsboringblog.blogspot.com/2019/04/spring.html ), I've moved back outside to do my morning "exercise" regime...walking.  It IS dark out when I start, but it gets almost light by the time I'm home.  And soon enough, it will be light even before I hit the street.  (Am I the only one who gets excited by the fact that the sun peaks over the horizon before 5 in the morning?) Although today was not supposed to be as warm as yesterday, it was still warm enough for me to head out in my sweatshirt, leggings, sneakers (and socks...I've LEARNED) with my glow in the dark safety vest.  (With a pocket for my phone so that I can listen to music while also using the  map my walk app )  Although I TRY to vary my route a bit on a daily basis, I almost ALWAYS start by doing a lap around Martin Road.` From my house down the Martin, around and back out to Pompton is a mile.  (Depending on how the app is walking this can change.  Some days I h

I'm afraid to say the word.  It may not have been the harshest of winters here, but it HAS seemed to be everlasting.  (Of course to me, winter ALWAYS seems to be everlasting.)  Over this past Saturday and Sunday, I finally felt like it was spring.  The sun was out, the birds were singing, buds were blooming on the trees. A few shoots actually came up through the ground and though I may not have flowers yet, there is hope for daffodils and tulips.  I even had the windows open in the house.  Breezes blowing through the house again!  Can I get a hallelujah?  Is it just me or do you feel more alive when spring returns?  There is nothing like the warm sun hitting your skin to make you feel...GOOD.  I don't claim to know what it is, but it is just a feeling of bliss and happiness when those rays hit my skin and life just feels better.  It's as if you can feel the vitamin D penetrating every cell.  If cells could smile, mine would have big happy faces. There were lots of t

Thank you for reading this blog, whoever you are.  If Google statistics are to be believed, there aren't that many people out there who read this.  I'm thinking the Google number is actually inflated and I've noticed a drop in the numbers now that Google+ has gone the way of the dinosaur.  But that is not the point of my regular blog postings.  I write because...I write.  It's just something that I do like breathing or eating.  Actually eating would be more apropos because I can go for a time without eating or writing, but eventually I HAVE to come back.  Sometimes I eat good things; sometimes not.  The same could be said for what I write.  There are times when I write and I think what I've done is incredible and other times...not so much.  And when I do look at my statistics, I'm often surprised to find what draws people in and what doesn't.  Which just goes to show...you don't! While it would be nice to be rich and/or famous (REALLY NICE), thi