I Pray Bingo Over Ye Cards!

Everything is hunky-dory: People lift their hands and sing with hearts full; the worship band is really bringing the house down; the sanctuary is simply skinny-dipping in the glory and the majesty of God. And then the scary part comes.

Worship is brought to a close and the pastor stands to pray over the children going off to their Sunday school classes to make art of Jesus in elbow macaroni and Elmers. However as everyone bends their heads to pray, you know that its not Lil' Jimmy they are thinking about but what awkward version of Pastoral Simon Says you are going to play today. Here are a few examples:

"Turn to your neighbor and hug them this morning!"

"Now go and meet someone new this morning!"

"Hold hands with the person next to you while we close in prayer."

"Tell your neighbor you love them!"

Its all good for the pastor up at the pulpit, smiling beatifically as he watches everyone shuffle and mumble apologies. Thats all fine and dandy for him, he got the lifetime pass from Pastoral Simon Says when he graduated seminary. The Catholics have it all worked out, too. Sometime in history a catholic got the bright idea of confession boxes. You literally get into a box and communicate through a wooden lattice. Brilliance.

Its not that i'm scared of people or anything. There was that phase I went through where i planned to become a hermit in Hawaii, riding wild dolphins and living on stockpiles of Reese's in my posh hermit cave. However even the most sociable person doesn't want to hold hands with a total stranger and then embrace them though. Actually...now that I think of it I know a lot of people who would do that. But they would do it expecting never having to see the stranger again. When you go to church with them you smile at them every week in passing and remember them as that one person with the sharp rings or sweaty thumbs.


While perhaps its my job to rise to the occasion and be more sociable when declaring love to my pew neighbors I have a new game suggestion for churches: Icebreakers. Why not give the congregation a hand next Sunday and give a specific question? Or better yet, play charades. Monopoly. ANYTHING.If the pastor asks the congregation to go any farther than shaking hands one Sunday I might just resort to a game of "Which Communion Cup if the Bread Under?" in the aisle.

Holy Hand Sanitizer,
-Hannah

My Father is Dead, but it's Ok, We Have Nan Bread!

One of the universal truths of life: Kids say the darnedest things. So do adults.

A perfect example of this would be going to lunch with my family (sans Jonmark, he's blowing things up). It was after church and the girls were groaning for food, Food, FOOD! Communion wine, biscuits, and the food of fellowship just don't cut it sometimes.

So we headed to perhaps my favorite eatery of all time (brace yourself, Steph): The House of India! Oooooh, its so good. Red Tandoori chicken, chole, NAN!!!!!, Kheer, jalebi, the list goes on and on. I'm literally drooling right now just thinking about it. Best part it the food is quality and quantity, they have a buffet.

As a middle-class American family, we follow the buffet principle: Eat Until Your Stuffed. And we did. And it was delicious. And we wobbled out the door later and took long, lazy, satisfied naps of well-fed people. But i've skipped the story, so lets go back to the savory bits.

Recently we've been watching "Bizzare Foods", a tv show with a host who eats anything and lies about liking half of it. Most of the foods are from countries where the blood and guts are still used in pop cuisine, so we've seen some pretty gross stuff go into this guy's mouth. Anyway, I was asking my mom and dad if there was a kind of food that we should try next. We've tried Japanese, Indian, Mexican, American, and Junk Food. Whats next?

Dad, quoting one of the more...akward...Bizarre Foods episodes yelled out: "WE HAVEN'T TRIED BULL TESTICLES!" then calmly went to go get some more nan. Oh, my father. My father.

Just for a change of pace, we decided this morning to visit another church that alot of old friends went to (Thats another story onto itself) and I got to see Monica's boyfriend, his lovely daughter, and his beard (Wink, wink, hint, hint ;)

Anywho, the girls were telling us about their Sunday School classes over lunch. That Lazarus guy got raised from the deads again, we got christmas cookies, the usual. What was UnUsual, however, was Emma's comment:

Mom: So, how were your teachers?

Glory: Ok.

Mom: What were their names?

Glory and Emma: I dunno. They gave us cookies.They were old cookies.

Glory: Emma told the teacher about Dad.

Me: What about Dad?

Emma: My first Dad was dead in the war.

Everyone: WHAT?

Dad: I'm not dead!

Emma: (patronizingly) No, no, no. My FIRST Dad. You second Dad. Your not dead. (Pats Dad's hand).

Mom and I: (Snort, giggle, uncontrollable laughter)

Mom: (realization!) Oh no!

Us: What?

Mom: When we went to go pick the girls up I told them Dad had gotten lost on the way over to pick them up!No wonder the teacher looked so shocked!

Everyone: (Laughing to the point of tears)

So thats what you can expect from a lunch with my family: Incorrect facts and the loud announcements that may be slightly embarrassing to everyone but my father. If you never want to come to my house again, i understand. You'll most likely end up embarrassed or rumored dead. Eat at your own risk!

Gill-Stuffed Goodness,

-Hannah