A bargain with myself . . . and maybe with God

This morning I went to church by myself. It may not sound like much to most readers, but it's a big deal for me. I dislike going to church alone almost as much as I dislike going to the dentist. . . and yet I long to go to church. For many years, I faithfully went alone, but then two things happened: my good friend Betty retired as organist. She had always kept me involved in the life of the church, finding tickets for me to sell in the lobby, sign-ups to do, committees to join, even projects to head. I used to say whatever came up, she'd say, "Judy will do it." About the same time, the minister I'd worked with left, all the people seemed to change, and I didn't have the base I'd had at the church. If I weren't single, would I have gone ahead and forged new connections, like my friends Jean and Jim who recently joined the church? I don't know. I do know that's what I should have done.
But the second thing is that my old phobia, a fear of being alone in open spaces (called agoraphobia), came back to haunt me. I lost my balance--or more accurately, my confidence in my balance. Curbs and steps without railings stymied me; so did parking lots. For a while, I really curtailed my travels and avoided telling friends. Slowly, I foiund that good friends accepted and stood ready to help. I began to force myself to do things, to take that step I didn't think I could. I carried a walking stick or a cane, to the puzzlement of many. I even discovered that I could use valet parking at church and not have to walk across the parking lot.  But going back to church was hard, and I could usually find some piddling at home to avoid it. We could get really Freudian here and go back to my childhood and being forced to attend church, but I won't go there.
Then  Jacob began to spend many Saturday nights with me, and I wanted him to grow up in the church. I regret with all my heart that my children didn't grow up in the church. After a first disastrous experience, where the day-care worked scared the daylights out of Jacob and set him to screaming and begging me to take him home, I waited months, tried again (with his mom this time), and he loved it. He thinks church is fun, though last week when I gave him his choice between playing and going to church with me, he chose church. I suppose next year, I'll have to get him going in time for Sunday school, and then I'll begin going to that again too.
My church has an interim minister. I've never gotten to know him, because of my spotty attendance record, but his sermons are wonderful. He's leaving in something like two weeks, and I didn't want to miss his sermon. LIstening on the radio didn't seem enough. Plus in my ongoing determination to overcome this phobia, doing things I should but would rather not is part of the program. This morning I decided I didn't really have to go, and then I drew mysellf up short and asked, "Are you going to be afraid all your life?" I made a bargain with myself: if I went to church, I didn't have to ride my exercise bike today.
I went to church. Not sure if God knows he won the bargain or not, but I was glad to be there. Sat with an acquaintance, greeted many people I know and like, got a hug from a special friend. I'll go again . And maybe ride the bike too.
Sorry, folks, I can neither explain nor fix the font change. It doesn't show up in draft, but when I publish the postk there it is. Thank  you, Blogger!

Politics and mysteries--well, maybe they're the same

I am, as many Americans are, still consumed with politics. On the crest of the upbeat Democratic convention, we get the news of Senator McCain's choice of a running mate. To me, it's a strange choice, but maybe that's my outlook--Governor Palin is for everything I'm against. But it must be admitted that she has limited experience--that charge thrown so often against Barack Obama. One of my sons said to me today, "It's a mixed blessing. It may help us (Democrats) win, but if the Republicans win, this lady who know nothing about running a nation or international policy is heartbeat away from the presidency." He went on, to discuss, what's on all our minds--Senator McCain is not a spring chicken.
But political opinion and approval or disapproval aside, I'm puzzled by something: most Republicans I know don't want to talk politics. Some say, "Let's not go there"; some say, "I don't know enough about it" which makes me want to shout, "Learn!" I want to talk about it, not necessarily to convert, though I do feel a bit called upon to do that. But I want to know how people can be for McCain, what's their reasoning, what are they thinking? I wonder, and it's scary, if they're not thinking, if they're hearing what they want to hear, or just thinking "I'm a Republican" (or Democrat) and aligning themselves blindly. My good-looking neighbor (I throw that in in case he reads this) is the only one I know who will talk to me about, and I know he's not blindly Republican. Sometimes we get a bit testy, but we have good honest talks. In contrast, I think of the women who, angered that Hillary didn't win, have gone over to McCain's side. Do these women realize he's against abortion? Against most of the things Hillary fought for?
And then there's the mystery of writing mysteries. Sisters in Crime and its various sub-groups have such active listservs that it takes a good portion of my day to sort through the posts. But am I learning a lot. For one thing, I think I have been very naive about querying, thinking happily that my query would stand out from those other amateurs. Not at all true. I may have 60 books to my credit, but in writing mysteries and trying to sell them, I'm a real amateur. For instance, the agent who said he liked my manuscript but didn't love it? And I thought that was a serious line? Apparently it's a cliche blowoff. Agents get hundreds of queries a week and making yours stand out is a real challenge.
I joined a group doing an exercise in "blurbing" their books and the responses have been pretty critical but tremendously helpful. They've made me rethink the book, and interestingly one thing that echoed in the responses was also repeated by my mentor today: I'm trying too hard to fit the subplot in. I have rewritten so many times, but here I go again.
But not this weekend. I'm off to Frisco tomorrow to see Maddie and Edie (and their parents, of course). I'll think about rewriting next week.
I am still having terrible balance problems, and if anyone watched me, they'd either die laughing or call the cops. Today I could NOT get from my car into the grocery--it's those open spaces that get me. Give me a grocery cart to wheel in and I'm just fine. So I started, rounded the corner of the car next to mine, and froze. Had to go back, take a different route, but I finally made it. Such episodes put me back, I think, because they're depressing. I tell people about them--including readers of this blog--because I feel hiding them and fearing someone would find out would only make it worse. Maybe if I can laugh at it? I've gotten over this before, and I will again, but I'm ready any time. As Melinda said to me, I've got a lot going on right now, which probably accounts for it.