Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
a little backwards
Apparently it takes something a little strange on a morning radio show to get me back to blogging...
I was listening to a radio station this morning on my way to work that was promoting the work of an organization that produces Bibles for the world. I know and admire this organization, but the personal story that was shared over the air as a way of encouraging people to give money towards purchasing Bibles made my eyebrows raise (yeah, can't to the cool one-eyebrow thing) and wonder if they didn't have it a little backwards.
The woman who called in had spent time in a country in Eastern Europe on a short-term mission trip. She found herself in the home of a woman who wanted to share her most valuable possession with her new friends. It was a Bible, but no ordinary Bible. It had been her only Bible for over 50 years, during which all of the Russian occupation and whatnot had clouded the Christian scene in Eastern Europe. But it wasn't just that it was her only, and old, Bible. It had been pieced together word-by-word with words that were originally published/printed in a newspaper. She, and many other faithful believers, had called to mind countless Bible verses that they held in their memory and "put the Bible back together." I was awed and inspired, and put in my place, because I certainly could not even begin to embark on such a journey (though, perhaps, there is beauty in such a project coming out of a community rather than from one individual).
Anyway, what bothered me so much was that when the story was finished, the woman telling it, as well as the two people on the radio show, could only talk about "those poor people in the world who don't have Bibles when we in America have so many." I wanted to say, "shame on me for not knowing Scripture in my heart so that no matter what the circumstances I will have God's Word in my heart!" I wished that they had even given a nod to this. They were so intent on raising money to send Bibles to the world (which is not a bad endeavor in itself) that they neglected to point out how "poor" the memories and spirits of we Americans are, those of us who take for granted the Bibles in our bedrooms (and every other room in the house), but don't bother to carry the Word around in our hearts and minds.
A missed opportunity, in my humble opinion.
I was listening to a radio station this morning on my way to work that was promoting the work of an organization that produces Bibles for the world. I know and admire this organization, but the personal story that was shared over the air as a way of encouraging people to give money towards purchasing Bibles made my eyebrows raise (yeah, can't to the cool one-eyebrow thing) and wonder if they didn't have it a little backwards.
The woman who called in had spent time in a country in Eastern Europe on a short-term mission trip. She found herself in the home of a woman who wanted to share her most valuable possession with her new friends. It was a Bible, but no ordinary Bible. It had been her only Bible for over 50 years, during which all of the Russian occupation and whatnot had clouded the Christian scene in Eastern Europe. But it wasn't just that it was her only, and old, Bible. It had been pieced together word-by-word with words that were originally published/printed in a newspaper. She, and many other faithful believers, had called to mind countless Bible verses that they held in their memory and "put the Bible back together." I was awed and inspired, and put in my place, because I certainly could not even begin to embark on such a journey (though, perhaps, there is beauty in such a project coming out of a community rather than from one individual).
Anyway, what bothered me so much was that when the story was finished, the woman telling it, as well as the two people on the radio show, could only talk about "those poor people in the world who don't have Bibles when we in America have so many." I wanted to say, "shame on me for not knowing Scripture in my heart so that no matter what the circumstances I will have God's Word in my heart!" I wished that they had even given a nod to this. They were so intent on raising money to send Bibles to the world (which is not a bad endeavor in itself) that they neglected to point out how "poor" the memories and spirits of we Americans are, those of us who take for granted the Bibles in our bedrooms (and every other room in the house), but don't bother to carry the Word around in our hearts and minds.
A missed opportunity, in my humble opinion.
Friday, April 25, 2008
strange
It's strange that now that things are moving forward in my life (an apartment, almost a 'real' job), I'm feeling less inclined to blog. I acutally think this is a problem, considering that I began this to chronicle ways in which I've been humbled by God's Word, other people and my own experiences. So, now I've warned myself publically that it is more important now than ever to continue to ask for God's eyes with which to see the world, so that even as I'm emerging from some hibernation of the soul, I'm attentive to those things which keep me grounded and humble. Amen.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
simple, yet
I've seen this a few times now and it's intrigued me each time, so here goes:
What Privileges Do You Have?
Based on an exercise about class and privilege developed by Will Barratt, Meagan Cahill, Angie Carlen, Minnette Huck, Drew Lurker, Stacy Ploskonka at Illinois State University.(If you participate in this blog game, they ask that you PLEASE acknowledge their copyright.)
Directions: Bold the statements that apply to you.
1. Father went to college.
2. Father finished college.
3. Mother went to college.
4. Mother finished college.
5. Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor.
6. Were the same or higher social class than your high school teachers.
7. Had more than 50 books in your childhood home.
8. Had more than 500 books in your childhood home.
9. Were read children’s books by a parent.
10. Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18.
11. Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18.
12. The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively.
13. Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18.
14. Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs.
15. Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs.
16. Went to a private high school.
17. Went to summer camp (yes, I went to band camp, and choir camp.)
18. Had a private tutor before you turned 18.
19. Family vacations involved staying at hotels.
20. Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18.
21. Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them.
22. There was original art in your house when you were a child.
23. You and your family lived in a single-family house.
24. Your parents owned their own house or apartment before you left home.
25. You had your own room as a child.
26. You had a phone in your room before you turned 18.
27. Participated in a SAT/ACT prep course.
28. Had your own TV in your room in high school.
29. Owned a mutual fund or IRA in high school or college.
30. Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16.
31. Went on a cruise with your family.
32. Went on more than one cruise with your family.
33. Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up.
34. You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family.
I find myself wanting to say 'yes, but...' to most of the ones I bolded, but somehow I don't think that's the point...
What Privileges Do You Have?
Based on an exercise about class and privilege developed by Will Barratt, Meagan Cahill, Angie Carlen, Minnette Huck, Drew Lurker, Stacy Ploskonka at Illinois State University.(If you participate in this blog game, they ask that you PLEASE acknowledge their copyright.)
Directions: Bold the statements that apply to you.
1. Father went to college.
2. Father finished college.
3. Mother went to college.
4. Mother finished college.
5. Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor.
6. Were the same or higher social class than your high school teachers.
7. Had more than 50 books in your childhood home.
8. Had more than 500 books in your childhood home.
9. Were read children’s books by a parent.
10. Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18.
11. Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18.
12. The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively.
13. Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18.
14. Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs.
15. Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs.
16. Went to a private high school.
17. Went to summer camp (yes, I went to band camp, and choir camp.)
18. Had a private tutor before you turned 18.
19. Family vacations involved staying at hotels.
20. Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18.
21. Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them.
22. There was original art in your house when you were a child.
23. You and your family lived in a single-family house.
24. Your parents owned their own house or apartment before you left home.
25. You had your own room as a child.
26. You had a phone in your room before you turned 18.
27. Participated in a SAT/ACT prep course.
28. Had your own TV in your room in high school.
29. Owned a mutual fund or IRA in high school or college.
30. Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16.
31. Went on a cruise with your family.
32. Went on more than one cruise with your family.
33. Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up.
34. You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family.
I find myself wanting to say 'yes, but...' to most of the ones I bolded, but somehow I don't think that's the point...
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
little easters
This year through Lent, Holy Week and Easter, my inner emotional journey did not quite match up with this particular cycle of the church year. I didn't really set out to give anything up for Lent and the church of which I'm a part did not follow a particular theme that led us deeper and deeper toward Good Friday and the cross.
But it's not as if I didn't 'get' that part: the anticipated emotional turmoil, the being troubled about the sinful state of my being, etc. Oh, I 'get' that alright. I 'get that' to the point that when I heard a sermon on Friday about how Christ's decent into hell meant that he went there to be with me because I put myself there in my own little hell, well, she was preaching to me. I 'got' that. But naming how I was feeling was only that. Naming it. Just because it had a name doesn't mean it went away.
And so I wasn't sure what to expect on Easter morning. I helped lead the service that I had helped plan. We did an Easter Lessons and Carols service where we traipsed through Scripture like we sometimes do right before Christmas to see that Christ is who was prophesied about. The promises of salvation and resurrection are there too, just like those for incarnation. So that was cool, but it just kind of washed over me instead of through me like I hoped it would.
I was finally able to articulate this to a friend yesterday over coffee. That I didn't follow the dramatic decrescendo to Good Friday and even more dramatic crescendo (or subito forte, for any music geeks reading) of Easter. I was apologetic about this but she appropriately gave me the permission I needed to have for this to be okay.
So I didn't have this grand Easter 'resurrection from the death of Lent' experience that I've had in the past, but instead have tried to claim the little Easters that have sprouted in random places. The sum total of them maybe get me to a place of joy and rest, but they've been separated enough that they've really only provided small respites as they come. Here's a few:
- fresh strawberries with French Silk ice cream
- a house full of family that was totally empty a few days before
- a phone call with an invitation for a beer and a pool lesson
- a purple hyacinth that replaces the smell of Easter dinner with the smell of spring
- a meeting where the agenda was prayer and love, and only that
- a morning walk in total sunshine
In some ways it's a comfort to know that the realities of Easter are not confined to the date on the calendar that we set aside to remember what happened. As 'Easter Chrsitians' we live in a 'resurrection reality' all the time. But sometimes this means that Lent is not confined to the six weeks prior to Easter either. It gets to--has to--be both. The dying and the rising. Death and life. Both.
But it's not as if I didn't 'get' that part: the anticipated emotional turmoil, the being troubled about the sinful state of my being, etc. Oh, I 'get' that alright. I 'get that' to the point that when I heard a sermon on Friday about how Christ's decent into hell meant that he went there to be with me because I put myself there in my own little hell, well, she was preaching to me. I 'got' that. But naming how I was feeling was only that. Naming it. Just because it had a name doesn't mean it went away.
And so I wasn't sure what to expect on Easter morning. I helped lead the service that I had helped plan. We did an Easter Lessons and Carols service where we traipsed through Scripture like we sometimes do right before Christmas to see that Christ is who was prophesied about. The promises of salvation and resurrection are there too, just like those for incarnation. So that was cool, but it just kind of washed over me instead of through me like I hoped it would.
I was finally able to articulate this to a friend yesterday over coffee. That I didn't follow the dramatic decrescendo to Good Friday and even more dramatic crescendo (or subito forte, for any music geeks reading) of Easter. I was apologetic about this but she appropriately gave me the permission I needed to have for this to be okay.
So I didn't have this grand Easter 'resurrection from the death of Lent' experience that I've had in the past, but instead have tried to claim the little Easters that have sprouted in random places. The sum total of them maybe get me to a place of joy and rest, but they've been separated enough that they've really only provided small respites as they come. Here's a few:
- fresh strawberries with French Silk ice cream
- a house full of family that was totally empty a few days before
- a phone call with an invitation for a beer and a pool lesson
- a purple hyacinth that replaces the smell of Easter dinner with the smell of spring
- a meeting where the agenda was prayer and love, and only that
- a morning walk in total sunshine
In some ways it's a comfort to know that the realities of Easter are not confined to the date on the calendar that we set aside to remember what happened. As 'Easter Chrsitians' we live in a 'resurrection reality' all the time. But sometimes this means that Lent is not confined to the six weeks prior to Easter either. It gets to--has to--be both. The dying and the rising. Death and life. Both.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
something I wrote for something else
Rehearsal/Performance
I’ve been in choirs for a large part of my life. And have always been an enthusiastic participant, especially on the day of a performance when the director told us to “sing it like we mean it.” This was kind of hard to do in middle school when most of our songs were either about ice cream or the state capitals, but as I’ve gotten older, the text I’ve sung have gotten richer. And this has often made it easier to “sing it like I mean it,” because when it comes to singing about God and Jesus Christ and the work of the Holy Spirit in the world, I do mean it. This has lead to some really rich performances.
But not that long ago, in the middle of a choir rehearsal, it hit me that just because a song text was worthy of being sung in truth during a performance doesn’t make it any less true during a rehearsal. And all of a sudden, singing texts like “worthy is the Lamb,” and “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace” over and over again in a rehearsal became a devotional experience for me. In rehearsal we actually experience part of the reality of the performance.
I’ve had this discussion about worship as well. In a class I’m helping teach, we have talked about what happens on Sunday morning as a rehearsal for the worship that is happening in heaven. As with any metaphor, this breaks down eventually, but the truth remains that when we gather together for worship on Sunday morning, we are joining the hosts of heaven in the worship of God that is happening day and night around the throne.
Read Revelation 4 and 5 to get a glimpse of what worship in heaven is like.
I’ve been in choirs for a large part of my life. And have always been an enthusiastic participant, especially on the day of a performance when the director told us to “sing it like we mean it.” This was kind of hard to do in middle school when most of our songs were either about ice cream or the state capitals, but as I’ve gotten older, the text I’ve sung have gotten richer. And this has often made it easier to “sing it like I mean it,” because when it comes to singing about God and Jesus Christ and the work of the Holy Spirit in the world, I do mean it. This has lead to some really rich performances.
But not that long ago, in the middle of a choir rehearsal, it hit me that just because a song text was worthy of being sung in truth during a performance doesn’t make it any less true during a rehearsal. And all of a sudden, singing texts like “worthy is the Lamb,” and “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace” over and over again in a rehearsal became a devotional experience for me. In rehearsal we actually experience part of the reality of the performance.
I’ve had this discussion about worship as well. In a class I’m helping teach, we have talked about what happens on Sunday morning as a rehearsal for the worship that is happening in heaven. As with any metaphor, this breaks down eventually, but the truth remains that when we gather together for worship on Sunday morning, we are joining the hosts of heaven in the worship of God that is happening day and night around the throne.
Read Revelation 4 and 5 to get a glimpse of what worship in heaven is like.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
truth
The costs of discipleship and obedience to Christ are huge. And if you commit to it, your life will never ever be the same.
Monday, March 10, 2008
not good at
Found this whilst blog-surfing:
Be silent.
Be still.
Alone.
Empty
Before your God.
Say nothing.
Ask nothing.
Be silent.
Be still.
Let your God look upon you.
That is all.
God knows.
God understands.
God loves you
With an enormous love,
And only wants
To look upon you
With that love.
Quiet.
Still.
Be.
Let your God--
Love you.
~~Edwina Gately
Be silent.
Be still.
Alone.
Empty
Before your God.
Say nothing.
Ask nothing.
Be silent.
Be still.
Let your God look upon you.
That is all.
God knows.
God understands.
God loves you
With an enormous love,
And only wants
To look upon you
With that love.
Quiet.
Still.
Be.
Let your God--
Love you.
~~Edwina Gately
Thursday, March 6, 2008
flashbacks
I'm finally getting iTunes up and running on the new computer and am currently going through my CD collection... almost entirely made up of CDs purchased in the 5-6 yr period of late high school and early college. This collection is comprised of what was hottest in CCM, Family Christian Bookstore, etc. at the time (roughly 8 yrs ago). Needless to say (then why am I saying it?), my music tastes have changed somewhat since then, but it still is quite the journey. I'm letting myself listen to the first track or two on each CD as it is downloading and that's been quite enough to bring me back, thank you very much. Yikes.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
nothing but
Conviction about something I need to do has been growing for a while now to the point that I can no longer avoid the truth about it. It all started with this quote:
Then I heard Dallas Willard speak and something he said got under my skin and hasn't left. He talked about how the mind of the flesh stops at things that are natural to us. And we use this as an excuse all the time for our words, actions, etc. "Oh, that's just what comes naturally to me." or "that's just how I am." Well, guess what, if we claim to have the Spirit of God, natural is no longer where we're allowed to settle. We need to expect the supernatural. From ourselves and from God.
Then all of a sudden it was the beginning of Lent and I briefly wondered about giving this thing (or these things) up because I had read about someone else who had found herself needing to do it.
Then one of the Lectionary passages from a week ago was about the Samarian woman at the well that asks Jesus to give her water that would never make her thirsty again and he said to her, "whoever drinks the water I give her will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give her will become in her a spring of water willing up to eternal life" (Jn 4:14). And I realized that I was not satiating the thirst I have with the Living Water but with the cheapo stuff that won't ever really satisfy.
Then last night I watched a documentary of sorts about community revival and transformation. And I knew that some things needed to change in my life. I couldn't just look for the small obedience anymore.
So.... drum roll please.... even though Lent is almost over and Easter is quickly approaching, I'm giving up books for awhile. No reading. No reading anything but the Word of God. When I'm thirsty for words, for stories, for companionship between pages, I need to be reading my Bible. When I satisfy this hunger with anything but God, I've essentially said that God doesn't count. And there's nothing true about that.
This seems silly as I type it. It's more drastic in my heart than I could make it on 'paper.' But I'm going for it. Who knows where it will take me...
"Do not be surprised, therefore, when you have yielded your
service, given your affection, and poured out your heart to that pleasure of
yours, your idol, your own lust and mischief--do not be surprised, then, if you
have no appetite for Christ, or for that heavenly food." --Robert
Bruce
Then I heard Dallas Willard speak and something he said got under my skin and hasn't left. He talked about how the mind of the flesh stops at things that are natural to us. And we use this as an excuse all the time for our words, actions, etc. "Oh, that's just what comes naturally to me." or "that's just how I am." Well, guess what, if we claim to have the Spirit of God, natural is no longer where we're allowed to settle. We need to expect the supernatural. From ourselves and from God.
Then all of a sudden it was the beginning of Lent and I briefly wondered about giving this thing (or these things) up because I had read about someone else who had found herself needing to do it.
Then one of the Lectionary passages from a week ago was about the Samarian woman at the well that asks Jesus to give her water that would never make her thirsty again and he said to her, "whoever drinks the water I give her will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give her will become in her a spring of water willing up to eternal life" (Jn 4:14). And I realized that I was not satiating the thirst I have with the Living Water but with the cheapo stuff that won't ever really satisfy.
Then last night I watched a documentary of sorts about community revival and transformation. And I knew that some things needed to change in my life. I couldn't just look for the small obedience anymore.
So.... drum roll please.... even though Lent is almost over and Easter is quickly approaching, I'm giving up books for awhile. No reading. No reading anything but the Word of God. When I'm thirsty for words, for stories, for companionship between pages, I need to be reading my Bible. When I satisfy this hunger with anything but God, I've essentially said that God doesn't count. And there's nothing true about that.
This seems silly as I type it. It's more drastic in my heart than I could make it on 'paper.' But I'm going for it. Who knows where it will take me...
Saturday, March 1, 2008
to catch up
1. I finished A Year of Living Biblically. I was kind of disappointed by the end.
2. Started and didn't finish a considerable number of really bad books.
3. Fell in love with books by Adriana Trigiani. She writes about a charming fictional town in the mountains of Virginia called Big Stone Gap, and the people who live there are normal: they use bad grammar, can't maintain consistently healthy relationship and screw up in a variety of other ways. In other words, not so neat and clean, but the writing is.
4. I also started reading both Wild at Heart and Captivating, both by John Eldredge with input from his wife Stasi. I don't completely hate either one of them yet, but I don't buy everything either. Though I think that's probably what I feel about most things I read.
5. Having it be sunny today makes me feel like someone took the lid off the tin can of my world.
2. Started and didn't finish a considerable number of really bad books.
3. Fell in love with books by Adriana Trigiani. She writes about a charming fictional town in the mountains of Virginia called Big Stone Gap, and the people who live there are normal: they use bad grammar, can't maintain consistently healthy relationship and screw up in a variety of other ways. In other words, not so neat and clean, but the writing is.
4. I also started reading both Wild at Heart and Captivating, both by John Eldredge with input from his wife Stasi. I don't completely hate either one of them yet, but I don't buy everything either. Though I think that's probably what I feel about most things I read.
5. Having it be sunny today makes me feel like someone took the lid off the tin can of my world.
Monday, February 18, 2008
pathetic (or, the books i read/have read)
To start: As I look at it, that title might be difficult for those learning English. Why do we put them through that?
The middle: I wish that I had started keeping track of the books I've read since Jan 1. That seems like it would have been a good time to start. But I'm going to start today instead. Suffice it to say that I've read an extrordinarily high number of books in the last month and a half. That's just what I do. Especially since I've done something I didn't allow myself to do for the last three years:
I got a real library card (as opposed to the 'fake' one for my college library).
And I started with 'A.'
Bliss, let me tell you.
So, I started this today: A Year of Living Biblically by A. J. Jacobs
It's fantastic.
I'm also reading this in little bits and pieces: Don't Waste Your Life by John Piper
Also fantastic.
The end: Right now I'm listening to a Counting Crows CD I found in my cousin's room. Undoubtably this is the sound of high school for me. This and Oasis. But I wasn't allowed to listen to them, so I guess it's the sound of high school from anywhere but my own home.
Monday, February 11, 2008
note to my future self:
Next time it's going to be this cold for this long, take the beer out of the back seat of the car 'cause it's going to freeze, explode and make the car smell. Though there are worse things for a car to smell like than beer, at least until it gets warmer out. Then there will be a problem.
think about it...
Two small things I learned about common phrases lately which may or may not say something about the state of my brain. (I think it says that I think too fast and don't stop often enough to think about things)
1. Say you've lost something and are looking everywhere for it. And then you find it. And then someone asks you where you found it and you say, "in the last place I thought to look." I used to think this meant that it never occured to you to look in that particular place, but what it really means is exactly what it says: I found it there (wherever "there" is) and then didn't have to look anywhere else, so no matter where "there" is, the place you found is it the last place you thought to look. Get it?
2. When a weather person says with authority that the snowfall for the day has a 50% chance of being above average, we all ought to respond with a resounding "duh" rather than with admiration for the weatherperson's uncanny ability to forecast the weather. Because no matter what the snowfall, it will always be either below or above average (unless in a strange case it falls exactly on the average), because it's an average, not an exact number. Get it?
I didn't, but now I do.
1. Say you've lost something and are looking everywhere for it. And then you find it. And then someone asks you where you found it and you say, "in the last place I thought to look." I used to think this meant that it never occured to you to look in that particular place, but what it really means is exactly what it says: I found it there (wherever "there" is) and then didn't have to look anywhere else, so no matter where "there" is, the place you found is it the last place you thought to look. Get it?
2. When a weather person says with authority that the snowfall for the day has a 50% chance of being above average, we all ought to respond with a resounding "duh" rather than with admiration for the weatherperson's uncanny ability to forecast the weather. Because no matter what the snowfall, it will always be either below or above average (unless in a strange case it falls exactly on the average), because it's an average, not an exact number. Get it?
I didn't, but now I do.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
one step back and other random thoughts
1. The living with the elderly woman didn't work out. Turns out she needs way more care than anyone thought, and it was much more than I could handle mentally, emotionally and schedule-ly. She was confused enough about things that as I was leaving she thanked me for being there for her first night home from the hospital (it was more than that) and said "nice to have met you." That was it. So... life lessons learned? Check. Humbled by what it means to care for someone on a regular basis? Check. Appreciative of the time of life I am currently experiencing? Check. Moving on...
2. Sundays are sometimes time for me to clean up messes from the week and get things settled for the week ahead. A little straightening, a little laundry, a little napping, a little reading, etc. I talked about it in what I thought were appropriately biblical, Godly terms: "making order out of chaos." However, when I think about the original creation, resting from the work of making order out of chaos is exactly what God did on the last day. Oops. Maybe that is what Saturday should be for. Something about an unencumbered Sabbath is so beautiful and quite a gift. And it's humbling to know that the world moves on without me.
3. I'm giving teaching a bit of a try this semester, but someone asked me this weekend how long it will be before I'm in the pulpit. My itch to speak words and administer sacraments is growing, as is my delight in the prospect. Wow. and Hmmm...
2. Sundays are sometimes time for me to clean up messes from the week and get things settled for the week ahead. A little straightening, a little laundry, a little napping, a little reading, etc. I talked about it in what I thought were appropriately biblical, Godly terms: "making order out of chaos." However, when I think about the original creation, resting from the work of making order out of chaos is exactly what God did on the last day. Oops. Maybe that is what Saturday should be for. Something about an unencumbered Sabbath is so beautiful and quite a gift. And it's humbling to know that the world moves on without me.
3. I'm giving teaching a bit of a try this semester, but someone asked me this weekend how long it will be before I'm in the pulpit. My itch to speak words and administer sacraments is growing, as is my delight in the prospect. Wow. and Hmmm...
Thursday, January 17, 2008
two steps hopefully forward
Two big things are happening to me in the next few days:
1. I'm moving in with an 88-yr old woman that I just met today. Basically I'm meeting her needs by just being there and since I could use a place a place to be, I think it will work out just swimmingly. She's a fiercely independent 88 and is sad that her life has come to this, but she can stay that way as long as I'm there to make food occasionally and not leave her alone at night. Unfortunately for me I've read about a half dozen novels with this same story line, so I've got to work at making this my own.
2. Next week Thursday I am stepping my foot into more professional academia for the first time. Well, not really professional since I'm just going to be a teaching assistant (read: paper grader), but I'm doing it as a graduate of a similar institution, not as a current student. The professor I'm working with is fantastic and wants to support me in any way possible. So, I'll get to teach some things on occasion, give input into the development of the class and give my own grades on the assignments and quizzes which he will never undermine. And we kicked it all off with a fantastic lunch at a local almost-greasy spoon. I think it will be great.
Meanwhile, I still need health insurance and a few other loose ends tied up, so if any of you have an "insurance person" who could help me out...
1. I'm moving in with an 88-yr old woman that I just met today. Basically I'm meeting her needs by just being there and since I could use a place a place to be, I think it will work out just swimmingly. She's a fiercely independent 88 and is sad that her life has come to this, but she can stay that way as long as I'm there to make food occasionally and not leave her alone at night. Unfortunately for me I've read about a half dozen novels with this same story line, so I've got to work at making this my own.
2. Next week Thursday I am stepping my foot into more professional academia for the first time. Well, not really professional since I'm just going to be a teaching assistant (read: paper grader), but I'm doing it as a graduate of a similar institution, not as a current student. The professor I'm working with is fantastic and wants to support me in any way possible. So, I'll get to teach some things on occasion, give input into the development of the class and give my own grades on the assignments and quizzes which he will never undermine. And we kicked it all off with a fantastic lunch at a local almost-greasy spoon. I think it will be great.
Meanwhile, I still need health insurance and a few other loose ends tied up, so if any of you have an "insurance person" who could help me out...
Friday, January 11, 2008
ho hum??
Why is it that a difficult decision, once made, seems at the same time obvious and not a big deal? Maybe because I chose the practical, less dramatic option: I'm not going anywhere. Instead I'll be assisting someone who teaches what I have my masters degree in, mostly to help him out but also to get my feet wet in that particular area, teaching. So, no running away to a foreign country, no hermitage or pilgrimage, but I'm excited about it anyway.
Friday, January 4, 2008
chickens
So I'm fairly convinced that the right answer to the question, "which comes first, the chicken or the egg," is "chicken." Because seems to make sense to me that God would have created an actual animal rather than start with the egg. But what do I know.
Actually, what I do know is that my life is chock full of eggs right now and not a lot of fully grown chickens. Lots of possibilities but very few actualities. Many pieces of a puzzle but not the picture. Lots of almost ripe fruit but no pie. I like pie. But I have to wait. Something is growing in the very inside of me that is not done yet.
I have plenty of pressure coming from myself to deal with all of this, but it gets tougher when the pressure comes from outside. Well-meaning people in my life have fair expectations for me to have concrete answers to what my plans are for my life, but things change when they aren't as comfortable with my lack of answers as I am.
A wise person told me once that when this happens I should remind the person I'm talking with that last thing anyone knew is that it takes about 9 months for a human being to form in the womb, so they should check in with me after a while to find out how my own inner self is doing.
Well, my inner self is moving and growing and so are my housing, social and vocational realities. There are so many things up in the air that I couldn't even tell anyone what continent I might be on in the near future. But the biggest thing I'm realizing right now is that just because there are hopes and dreams and possibly plans doesn't mean that the waiting is over. Lots of eggs... bring on the chickens!
Actually, what I do know is that my life is chock full of eggs right now and not a lot of fully grown chickens. Lots of possibilities but very few actualities. Many pieces of a puzzle but not the picture. Lots of almost ripe fruit but no pie. I like pie. But I have to wait. Something is growing in the very inside of me that is not done yet.
I have plenty of pressure coming from myself to deal with all of this, but it gets tougher when the pressure comes from outside. Well-meaning people in my life have fair expectations for me to have concrete answers to what my plans are for my life, but things change when they aren't as comfortable with my lack of answers as I am.
A wise person told me once that when this happens I should remind the person I'm talking with that last thing anyone knew is that it takes about 9 months for a human being to form in the womb, so they should check in with me after a while to find out how my own inner self is doing.
Well, my inner self is moving and growing and so are my housing, social and vocational realities. There are so many things up in the air that I couldn't even tell anyone what continent I might be on in the near future. But the biggest thing I'm realizing right now is that just because there are hopes and dreams and possibly plans doesn't mean that the waiting is over. Lots of eggs... bring on the chickens!
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
small things = a good day
- snow, but not crappy driving
- a friend who doesn't mind being seen in her bathrobe
- a 10 year old who is excited about me doing puzzles with him
- a smiling, familiar face and the longest conversation to date
- half a muffin and a Clementine
- a four year old who addresses me "excuse me" for three hours
- a cavernous sanctuary in the dark of night
- a friend who doesn't mind being seen in her bathrobe
- a 10 year old who is excited about me doing puzzles with him
- a smiling, familiar face and the longest conversation to date
- half a muffin and a Clementine
- a four year old who addresses me "excuse me" for three hours
- a cavernous sanctuary in the dark of night
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