Maybe we should stop projecting our own shit onto Rachel and Nadia

Do you remember the first time you ever felt betrayed by someone? Maybe your parents broke a promise or lied to you. The time you found out a friend had been talking about you behind your back. Then there’s the doctor who didn’t treat you with respect. Perhaps a teacher took advantage of their power over you and treated you like shit.

As you grow up, you find role models, idols, heroes- people you look to for guidance and strength. They are inspirations and repositories from which we pilfer our ideas and world views in order to piece together our own personalities. They are family members, friends, writers, sports stars, actors, politicians, musicians, artists, clergy, and activists. We do this, whether unwittingly or with obsession. The pedestals on which we attempt to place these people are so high, so precarious, and so distant; is it any wonder they fall? And inevitably they will fall, with a staggering crash. The rubble and settling dust now obscure your way.

Getting to the point- last week there was a huge fallout in the progressive Christian community. An upcoming women’s conference, (WX2015) featuring Rachel Held Evans and Nadia Bolz-Weber, was* being facilitated by Tony Jones, a big and divisive personality within the progressive evangelical community. People began crying foul, as Tony Jones has been accused of spiritual, physical, and emotional abuse by his ex-wife. More people piled on when both women declared that they intended to move forward with the conference as was, believing that that was the right decision based in the information they had.

My heart sank. I admired these women, and here they were, seemingly behaving in a way that was at odds with everything I knew about them. I felt betrayed by Rachel most of all, as she frequently calls out abuse and the abusers within the church. More than that, though, it was because I so identify with her journey as a doubting Christian growing up in an evangelical world. I had put my faith in two women, whom I consider to be wise, empathetic trouble-makers, and it seemed that I was wrong.

What was I supposed to do now? I was going in circles, wanting to believe Tony Jones’ ex-wife, but not giving up hope that Rachel and Nadia weren’t abandoning what was right. And what did it say about me, that I had not chosen wisely when it came to in whom I’d placed my trust?
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I had to. Sorrynotsorry

I talked it over with Mike and stewed over it for days. I was surprised by how much I was bothered by this.

Then I fucking woke up and realized: Of course they’re going to let you down, you dipshit! They’re people. Just because they’re smart, wise, kickass women doesn’t mean they’re not going to make mistakes. It’s entirely possible that I would make the same decision, were I in their place.
What’s more, how does anyone know for sure that their decision is the wrong one? All we see are carefully constructed responses on Twitter or blogs. We’re not privy to their conversations with God about it. We don’t know about the crackers and ginger ale consumed because this whole ordeal has their stomachs in knots. We have no idea how many times their computers almost faced defenestration because someone was an asshole to them, and how it could all go away if they could just divulge what they know to everyone.

I still don’t know who’s right and who’s wrong, but I don’t blame Rachel and Nadia for the decision they’ve made. Having read both sides of the story, I reckon the actual truth is in there somewhere. Honestly, I think the number of fucks I have to give about it are beginning to run low. I do know that we’re all human and we all make mistakes. One of those mistakes is to place people on pedestals. It’s a horrible mess to clean up once they inevitably crumble.

*Apparently, because of the events of the last week, facilitation of the WX2015 conference has been handed off to Rachael and Nadia.

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Spiced fudge

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I know posts have been sparse lately. Preparation for the holidays, recovery from the holidays, and the simple fact that it’s winter have made it hard for me to give two shits about the blog. I feel like I’ve been in a constant fight to stay awake for the last few weeks. My brain has also been extremely foggy, making it virtually impossible to make good words for those things that put good words together for the looking at words by the people. But I’m sitting on something that makes my body like an L and those pointy things on my hands are touching those squiggly things that make words. And I can’t close my eyes for sleepybys because I have to go see the lady who will fix the seeing part on my face because something is stuck and it gives me the ouchies. So let’s talk about yummy chocolate squares I make during the cold time, when people put up green, pointy triangles and blinky, shiny things.

(No, my fog isn’t that bad. But I did have a meltdown because I couldn’t remember what to call gelato bowls. So that was fun.)

Cookie-making is a big deal in my family. It was a fun tradition my siblings and I had with my mom every Christmas, and it’s a tradition I’m passing on to my girls. I feel horribly that I didn’t manage to make as many Christmas cookies as I normally do. I still have all the ingredients. Peanut butter kiss cookies in May? Why not?
One of the desserts I did manage to make was fudge from the recipe my mom gave me. It makes a lot of fudge, it’s edible straight out of the freezer, (and sometimes is even better that way) and it’s perfect for a nice, homemade Christmas gift for someone. A couple of years ago, I decided I wanted to give the fudge some more dimension. I took my cue from the ancient Mayans and added spices, specifically cinnamon and cayenne. It gives the fudge a nice kick and dials down the sweetness so you don’t immediately go into a sugar coma. I put in the amount of spice that makes me happy, but you may certainly adjust the recipe to suit your taste.

Spiced Fantasy Fudge
3 cups sugar
3/4 cup butter, softened and cut into chunks
2/3 cup (5 1/3 oz) evaporated milk
1 12 oz pkg milk chocolate chips
7 oz marshmallow creme
1 tsp vanilla
1/4 tsp cinnamon
Pinch of cayenne pepper

Combine sugar, butter, and evaporated milk in a 2 1/2 qrt heavy saucepan. Bring to a rolling boil, stirring constantly. Lower heat to medium and continue to boil, stirring constantly, for approximately 5 minutes or until a candy thermometer reaches 234 degrees. Remove from heat. Stir in chocolate chips until melted. Pour into a large bowl and add the marshmallow creme, vanilla, and spices. Beat the mixture until well-blended. Pour the mixture into a 13×9″ pan/dish. Cool at room temperature.

Once set, (it will take a few hours to overnight) slice into cubes. For less mess, easier slicing, and better structural integrity, freeze before slicing. Fudge is best stored in a zip top bag in the fridge or the freezer.

What’s a girl gotta do?

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I really wish that, if my body is going to fuck me over, it would have the courtesy to at least buy me a drink first. It doesn’t have to be special. Just buy me a Sidecar and feign interest. You know, just a little, “Really? Me too! Wow, we have so much in common!” And hey, I won’t even want it to stay the night or call me later.

Just a drink, and then leave me the fuck alone.