Well -

Im off to see the first half, of the final installment, of the Harry Potter movies tonight.
And after re-reading that final book again, I came to a realization.

I did a quick look on line, and although a few sites make mention of the obvious "Harry dies, then comes back to life to save the world" similarity between him and Christ... no one has ever made comment on the final aspect there.  And to me, its far more important.

*After* Harry comes back - *none* of his enemy, Voldemorts, spells work.
Because just as the love, that Harrys mother gave, protected him from the death that he would have suffered - even kept him from being touched at all, by evil...
*His* love - for everybody around him... protected them all.

The moment Voldemort kills Harry, he loses - everything.
Oh, he can still *cast* the spells....
But they have no affect.

Harry's love, become the guard, for every single person out there.
Just as the love of God, is our protection, for all who call upon him.

Its subtle.  Its just one line, in the books, when Harry has his final showdown, but its so perfect, it amazes me.

Yes, Im still a total Snape fan.  I think his tale is the most heart-rending, powerful story in the whole series.  I cant help but wonder if every once in a while, Snape had the thought "He should have been *my* son."  And its obvious, Lilly had a type - she liked the dark curls, the intense eyes, the proud, arrogant men.  Perhaps why James and Severus hated each other so fiercely, was because they were, quite a bit alike.  And often, when Snape is so meticulous, in counting up Harry's faults, - we see that they are the faults he himself has. 
In many ways, he is the ultimate abusive father.   Every bit a figure in Harrys life, as James would have been - and far more involved, then Dumbledore ever was.  Snape motivated Harry through the negative, which I know from my own upbringing, can be an amazingly, powerful force in the heart of someone who is determined to succeed.

And maybe, thats where *I* see myself.  For the first time, ever, Harry Potter has given me a vantage point of positivity, on my life, that Ive never had.  Harry had - all the same traits as the bad guys.  He had all the power, and all the hunger, and all the anger.
I too - had the childhood, in an adopted family, that didnt fit me.  The family that tortured me, and hurt me, and still, didnt kill what was in me.
In the end, we see that Harrys greatest strength, his best ability, was that through it all, he remained "pure in heart"
Its not that he never screwed up, not that he never had bad thoughts, or made some wrong steps.  But that he actually chose to learn from them, teach from them.  Not sit off in the corner going "woe is me".  He chose to become a better person.  He refused to grow bitter, angry, or frustrated, for long.
And the most negative, powerful forces he came across, usually in the form of Snape, only forced him to work harder, at being *better*.
At not giving into his faults, but holding to his integrity with both hands and not giving up.

*laughs* Even Umbridge, who punished him so harshly, that the words "I shall not tell lies" were permanently etched on the back of his hand....  He learned that lesson - in *truth* - and we see that by telling the truth, he did, indeed, win out - time and time again.

Yes, I owe CT a huge debt, in pretty much forcing these books on me.  I can honestly say, that they changed my life.  And even strengthened my relationship with God, giving me a better aspect, to see from - how *He* sees me. 

Im going to enjoy, tonight.
absolutely.

oh the things you learn...

Billy Connelly, was - amazing.
3 hours.

The chairs, were terrible, and Im sicker then ever. The seats weren't where I thought we would be, but far further back.  Some of it, I couldn't even watch because the background was so obnoxious, and it was hard to focus just on him.
But its amazing.
He started off by congratulating us all on our bravery, informing us that if he were in Ireland *noone* would have come.  Then went on to oh god - sooooo many things.
Some of the topics he covered -
How to be annoying
Nose Hair
Aunt Agnes
Old Ladies and Scones
American Egos
Use of the word "cunt"
Being mistaken for John Cleese - in Harry Potter
Chicago
New York
Glasgow
Camping
Catholic Church
Peruvian Wind Reeds
Defining "Lost" - the verb,  not the show
How big Canada is
Mexican Hurricanes
Smoking and drinking
Aunt Agnes, and the toaster

His style, seems to be to start a story, and then get sidetracked to another, then to another, then to another, and then return to the origanal, then be side tracked, then go back to another hanger....
Its hilarious - you never quite know where hes going to go, or when hes going to cut away.
It keeps you interested in the whole three hours.He does certainly love the profanity, but its funny, not really profane.
I loved, almost every minute of it. 
it was just the seats, that detracted from *everything* - it was brutal to sit in that small, cramped seat, for three hours, and relax enough to laugh like you want to.

But I do know one thing - I will never, ever *ever* again, be able to look at a toaster again, without at least a mental giggle.

I think, Im dying...

no, seriously, my hearing is gone, my neck and throat have almost entirely closed up, my eyes dont want to open, both my nose, and my ass, are running.
My intire body feels like its been hit by a tractor trailer and finished off by a combine.

That being said, last night was fun.
As soon as we arrived, while I was still waiting for Tigger to park the car, I saw one of the few friends I have there, and she stayed and chatted with me untill Tigger showed up,and then the three of us went down into the bowels of the convention center.
It seemed like there were less skanks then last year (only saw one girl whos boots covered more material then her dress) and more gowns.  Im *definitely* going full length next year.  Some of the dresses were "themed" as it was a "through the decades" party.  Although to my mind, the one of Tiggers friends who was done up in a peach crushed velvet suit totally won that area for the night.  He was even sporting the nasty stasche.
The table where we were seated was - ok.  We knew three of the people, at least.  The real issue was one of the ones who I had seen at previous parties but didnt know.  The first bad sign was that he was sitting "alone" at the table.  And by alone, I mean that both chairs on either side of him were empty.  The second was that he was so drunk, before the event even started, that he couldnt barely stand.
ok, Ill give him that - they were handing out complimentary glasses during the "mingling" stage of this amazing sparkling wine that tasted like cool-aid.  I had three glasses before I even realized it and after coming in from outside for a smoke, I realized *I* wasnt walking that great either.
Word of wisdom, learned last night?  Never have a metal chain purse with you, when its more then 20 below, if you like your fingers.
Anyways, back to Mr. Drunk and lonely.  He had at least two more beers, before the meal arrived, and by the time we got to the turkey, he was - pulling strips of skin off the bird with his bare hands and jamming them in his mouth.  It was, remarkably disgusting.
The meal was - incredible, for the most part, and my muses were gushing through the whole thing.
Butternut Squash soup with sunflower seed pesto.  This is absolutely my new faverate thing *ever*.  Never mind how entertaining it was to watch everybody eat around the "green gob" in the center of their bowls, not knowing they were supposed to stir it into their soup. 
The turkey was - possibly one of the best Ive ever had.  The veggies were thinly sliced peppers, onions, carrots and celery, all roasted with a few pieces of asparagus.  Whipped Mashed potatoes with cranberry sauce (made, not bought).  I didnt eat the stuffing, but Tigger tells me it was less then perfection.
And then there was dessert.
If I hadnt already been sick enough to think I was dying, I would have thought I was in heaven anyways.  Perfectly done little bowls of spiced creme brulee, with a sliced strawberry in whipped creme on the side, a chocolate "wave stick" balanced on that, and next to it, a small Grand Marnier Truffle.
What I really couldnt believe is that one of the people at our table turned their noses up at it, saying that it looked to weird for them.  I snagged their chocolate and their strawberry.
They had a live band, with a horns section.  They had a DJ, for when the band was on breaks.  *and* they had a dance instructor.  So they were actually teaching people the electric slide, and how to disco.  It was remarkably awesome.
Oh yes, and the decorations... The usual convention chairs covered over in white satin, the silver and glass and holly centerpieces off of which everything reflected.  Each napkin done in a different piece of folded art  at the table.  It was so gorgeous.
By the time the dance came, we had switched tables to one where we had a few more friends.  It was much more relaxing.  And what totally made my night, was that one of the men suggested we have a group photo of us all taken. (Yes, they also had professional photographers there, printing out digital copy for you)  So all of us, five couples filed up and got in the frame together.  It was the first time, in a long time, that Ive felt part of something greater then me.
Clayton actually danced with me, which is truely a rarity.  But it also made me start coughing so badly I couldn't stand, and I could no longer disguise the fact that I was so sick.  SO it wasn't long after our couple of dances, that we headed for neocitrine land, and home.

Oh, and *before* the event?  Yeah, they forgot about my hair appt.  Lost, it, actually.  So I ended up with thier master stylist - who didnt listen to a word I said, gave me a haircut I didnt want, and then didnt style it much at all because *apparently* you cant do a hell of a lot with a bob.  And charged me twice as much as what I usually pay, on top of it.
It was the first time in my life, I didnt tip my stylist.
Then, in the parking lot - *sighs*
My pantyhose fell off - right down to my thighs as I was walking back to my car.
SO much for wearing those on the *outside* of the spanx.
At least I figured that one out, before I got on the dance floor?

So that was yesterday.
Today, I am child free, so sick and hurting I want to curl in a ball and die, and still have to dress up *again* to go and see Billy Connely, who I *will* be attending, even if they have to wheel my frozen dead corpse in.
So there.

blahblahrant - part 4

Yeah, I know - its - confusing, out there.

No, I dont - hate the church, but no, I dont attend one, either.
Fellowship? Well, were having that right now, arent we?

Oh, I see - its not *in* a church, so it doesnt count?

Lets take a look at that claim, shall we?

See - when Christ rose from the dead, He did something rather miraculous.  He ripped the cloak in two. 
And you have *no* idea what Im talking about, do you? Of course not.  They dont like talking about this.

You see, in the Temple, in Jerusalem, there was - a sheet.  It separated the Holy of Holies, where only the High Priest could go, and enter the very presence of God, from the rest of the synagogue.  This was - a big deal.  To go behind that sheet, they had to do a series of purification rituals, and prayers, and then, they had to have a bell, tied to their ankle.  and a rope.

The rope was so that if God struck the Priest dead, they could drag him back out.  If the bells stopped jingling... they knew he was dead.  And it was a real fear.  More then once, God had done people in, just for daring to come into His presence, who wasnt prepared.

But when Christ rose from the dead, the sheet tore in two, right down them middle.  The "Glory" had left the Temple.  God could no longer be contained, within four walls.  When Christ rose, He chose instead, to dwell *in* us - in our hearts.  In our Spirits, in our souls - however you want to look at it, the importance here is that *God*cannot*be*contained*.

Not in *any* building.

This is why we are to take care of our bodies.  This is why jamming them with nicotine, alcohol, trans fat, preservatives, and all sorts of chemical goodness is an issue.

Yes, I smoke.  Yes, I drink.  Yes, I smoke pot.  Im not perfect - Ive never claimed to be.  And thankfully, God doesnt expect us to be.  He loves us even when we destroy the temple He now lives in...
do I believe Satan is behind that? - oh hells yes... just ask *any* addict.

but today, we arent talking about that.  We are talking about - "church".

Now, biblically, the church *is* the people.  Its not about a building.  The church, His bride - is all of us who believe.  And any time two or more of us get together - That's fellowship - that is a gathering of believers, brought together.  Now, believers can get together, and *not* have "fellowship" - and that - that sucks.  Trust me, Ive been there.  You sit and you talk about - nothing that matters, and each one of you leaves, kinda - feeling like the day could have been better.

But Ive also been in groups - where not even everybody there, was a believer, and the topic changes, and suddenly - you *feel* it.  The air just gets charged, and the hair on the back of your neck stands up and cant help but Praise, or sing, or worship outright...
And this is when Ive seen lives *changed*.  More then in a "service" with a pastor... just a group of friends, joining together. 

If you havent had the chance to experience this yet, then I feel for you.  And I hope you do get to this.  And yes, you can even have this, all alone... just you, and your computer, or your bible, or alone washing dishes and suddenly, you *know* that you are loved, and that He is there with you.  And it just, makes everything else shrink into insignificance, just for that moment.

Youve had that experience at church? Awesome.  I have too.  Its a good place for it.  It is after all, a directed gathering of the saints.  It *should* happen there. 

So why dont *I* go to church?
Good Question.

First of all, its - the buildings.  Multi-million dollar structures meant to impress and show off.  They have gyms and dinner theaters and fire side rooms and day cares....and no - its not *bad*.
But its not...It makes a simple truth into a spectacle.  And God doesnt do parlor tricks.

Secondly - its the - red tape and ----- hierarchical structure? I suppose?  Pastors are turned into little Kings, in their castles.  With a board, or.. senate, under them.  It gets ugly.  And very little gets done thats focus is on - "what can we do to Serve in the name of Christ, today"
Also, people who *dont* have a doctorate, are often pushed aside - unable to lead, or even have a voice.

And Christ meant for *all* of us to be His emissaries, His priests.  But pastors dont want that.  They just want a flock to tend, and to keep them there.  Paying thier dues and lip syncing the songs they choose.  Yes, Im bitter.  Ill admit to that.

Why? because my dear, when a pastor discovers you have skills - they will use them. and abuse them.  And when you burn out, they wont even care.  More then one church has eaten me alive and spit me out.  yes, thats exactly what they did. 

But I do make a distinction, between those organizations, and the *Church* - who is a beautiful, and amazing thing.  Even as deluded, and mistaken, and as torn apart as She is...  She is - His Bride.

But untill I can find a building, that houses the saints....  that doesnt care about making the money - but honors the Jewish roots of our faith, and doesnt care about race, or job status, or sexual preference - but lets God deal with each one, on *His* time table, not theirs....  who demands that their people grow in grace, and peace, and in spirit, as leaders - individually, and as a whole?  Who doesnt allow a - out of control - experience to squelch the integrity, of the Spirit of God...

Im asking too much?
I thought so.
But thats why *I* dont go to church.

But Im *alll* about the fellowship.
Worship, Fellowship, and Discipline.

Because its *all* God asks of us.