Nancy Wichmann

I didn't write this, but it touched me, so I'm putting it here to remind me. This was written by the wonderfully wise and great-hearted Roman Catholic priest Henri Nouwen at the Harvard Divinity School.

Well, it has happened again. A man I met online was interested in me. We'd talked a few times. But then he found my web site and learned of my past. I got an email that he doesn't want to talk to me again and that I should remove his name from my email address list. End of discussion.

Is there any man out there who is secure enough in his manhood that my past doesn't threaten him?

I belong to several online groups that have asked people to not start discussions of a religious or political nature. I can see how such discussions could get out of hand and generate a lot of name-calling and bad feelings.

Last Sunday I posted on one of them: "Today, Nancy Elaine officially became a child of God. I was baptized."

For that, I was censured. Yet, in this same group I have seen numerous "naughty" words go unchallenged.

Well, I'm not sure this is a first worth celebrating, but it is the first time this has happened to me. My hair froze!

We were having a blizzard and I had to take the dog out. I guess the first bits of snow melted until the temperature of my hair dropped, then it froze. Yes, my hair turned to ice.

It has been a dream for a long time to square dance. A couple of months ago I did a search and found two groups in the area. Yes, square dancing in Boston! I contacted both groups, one of which is a gay square dancing group. The other group is a club that meets at MIT -- yes, the prestigious university.

Tonight was the first class at MIT. It was great fun, even though I can't say that I got everything quite right. In one hour, we covered 20 moves. Some were relatively simple, and some were pretty complicated (at least to me).

My friend Brooke saw a picture of me and wrote to tell me that my hair looked "so Boston." I know she meant it as a compliment, but one thing I noticed early on in being here, is that the bulk of women in Boston have no sense of style whatsoever. So, with apologies to Brooke, this is almost an insult to me. It is a clear wakeup that I need to spend more time with my curling iron.

After a brief discussion on Judgment Day in church this morning, I thought I would write down my understanding of what that will be like.

The scene opens with God sitting on His throne and Jesus by His side. As I approach the throne, Jesus, knowing that I have accepted His sacrifice for me, comes down and stands between God and me. When God looks up, He says, "I see no sin in this person." Jesus has blocked God's view of me so that the Lord sees only Jesus.

Okay, great, at least my acceptance of Jesus has gotten me over the first hurdle.

It is just about two years exactly (I think less a week) since I moved to Charlotte. I was in that apartment about 16 months. I never put up any pictures (I did put up a mirror), never hooked up my stereo. Basically I did no decorating to speak of.

Over a year ago I was involved in a protest, which brought on further protests from some far-right religious groups. One group was on our right, speaking with a megaphone while thumping on their Bible. Another group was across the street on the left singing hymns and doing a little preaching until the police told them their loud speakers broke the city noise ordinance.