Of course, once you make a list of 21 things that drive you crazy (see post from earlier in March), more and more things pop in your head. I had an older fellow in one of my classes this week ask me if anything ever made me angry, as I always seemed calm to him (Jerod might disagree!).
But then, it happened again yesterday. One of the few things that really does send me over the edge for some reason...
I'm sitting at a RED light, waiting to take a right. There is oncoming traffic. I wait until the coast is clear. The traffic seems to stop, but I'm waiting a second to make sure that the opposite lane won't be turning left into my lanes before I proceed. Because, dang it! I have the right to make sure I will not be creamed when I decide to turn my 2-ton vehicle into traffic!!!!!!!!!!! So DO NOT HONK AT ME BECAUSE I DON'T TAKE A RIGHT ON RED WHEN YOU THINK I SHOULD!!!!! Do not, do not, do not. If you are sitting behind me, and honk at me...I really will just sit there then until the light turns good and green. Because I'm the driver, and it's my life and my car that I'm still paying off...
I made sure to tell Fred that this action makes me sincerely angry. He smiled and thanked me for being human. Funny. He should see me when I spill something or I'm running late for something...Let's just say I'm still working on these things...Like yesterday...I shook the blue cheese dressing to get the last few drops out...and the lid wasn't completely screwed on...BLUE CHEESE EXPLOSION ON THE FLOOR, COUNTER, ETC. Sigh. These are petty things, to be sure...but don't they seem to take a lifetime to overcome?
3.25.2008
LOSTIES...we have a hiatus...
To get us by for the next few weeks without LOST, here's a link to my favorite LOST blogger. Just good, solid, and funny recaps with some thoughts about implications...no crazy theories that make your head spin (remember, when your head spins, just walk away at a heading of 325 degrees...you will find rescue!).
http://www.longlivelocke.blogspot.com/
I check out her re-caps every week, as it helps me sort out what exactly happened. Don't forget to scroll over the photos, as she (Erica, the blogger) always codes a funny caption.
And for a detailed encyclopedic and indexed site about various characters, themes, theories, and spoilers...
http://www.lostpedia.com/wiki/Main_Page
Just doing what I can to fuel your addictions!
http://www.longlivelocke.blogspot.com/
I check out her re-caps every week, as it helps me sort out what exactly happened. Don't forget to scroll over the photos, as she (Erica, the blogger) always codes a funny caption.
And for a detailed encyclopedic and indexed site about various characters, themes, theories, and spoilers...
http://www.lostpedia.com/wiki/Main_Page
Just doing what I can to fuel your addictions!
3.23.2008
Thoughts while shopping...
A leisurely Saturday afternoon at the mall and shoe store provided me with endless mental entertainment...I am having a conversation with you in my head if you are out and about while I am.
(disclaimer...I do not have a 2-year-old child, so it's easy for me to make assessments about what I would do. I realize that I am "judging" with little knowledge of the challenges of reining in the equivalent of a hurricane-force of energy.)
In Rack Room Shoes, Rock Hill:
Mom: "Caden, sit down."
Caden: "Sttaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacy!"
Stacy: "Caden, stay right beside me."
Caden: full-force running around the chairs in the opposite direction of Aunt Stacy.
Caden proceeds to bounce back and forth between mommy and auntie for a full ten minutes. They were looking in separate aisles. I am in the clearance section trying to determine if it's unwise to purchase wedge shoes that do not bend on the bottom. "Will these hurt my feet if they don't bend?" I think.
"Mooooommmmy, NO!" thoughts interrupted by Caden.
"Aunt Staaaaaccccccyyyyyyyy!" Caden yells, full voice.
"Let's use our inside voice, Caden." I think. "I should leave the unbendy shoes here. Sounds good now...but my flat feet will suffer later..."
I notice that now neither Aunt Stacy nor Mommy has an eye on the two year old. But his four year old sister is trying to take over the duty. That's not working out well.
"Caden, SIT IN THAT CHAIR!" says Mommy.
"Stacy!!!!!!!!!!" Caden cries, trying to play one off the other. This ploy must have worked for him in the past.
Five more minutes of back-and-forth...pleas to sit still, or stay beside me, or not to touch, etc. I am pondering a really sweet pair of beige wedges that DO bend on the bottom, determining whether I should pay so much for sandals...
Caden is coming toward me pushing a chair in front of him down the aisle at a high velocity. There isn't a Mommy or Auntie in sight. Oooh. Busted. He is found out!! Just before he runs over my foot.
"Maybe two-year-old boys cannot 'behave' in shoe stores when it's 75 degrees and sunny out. Maybe he should be in a field running out all that energy," I think. "Can I justify bronze sandals that are the sexiest things I've ever seen and look like they were made for my feet? How many brown-ish sandals are too many brown-ish sandals? What can brown do for me?"
Caden is still pitting Mommy against Stacy...big, big sister is getting their opinions on a fetching pair of white sandals. She obviously can keep pace with the shopping sisters. Middle sister and Caden are dangerously close to a large pile of Croc knock-offs on an end-cap.
"I bet those look like those cardboard bricks to him..." I think, still pondering my sexy brown wedges that kind-of bend on the bottom.
They DO look like something to be knocked over, as he and middle sister successfully topple the entire stack of probably 25 boxes of croc wannabes.
It takes Mommy a minute to figure out what the collosal crash is.
"CADEN. SIT DOWN RIGHT NOW!" She nearly yells.
"Why should he?" I think, "You haven't enforced the sitting or the staying close for at least the last fifteen minutes that I've been here. You have merely asked, and when he doesn't respond, you let him go to Aunt Stacy. He's smart, lady, this is working in his favor." I think piously. "And I don't need brown sandals today, sexy or not...maybe they'll go on sale in a few weeks."
Mommy proceeds to command Caden and middle sister to the chairs that they were only recently pushing around the store like shopping carts. She then squats down to set up all the boxes again and restore them to their former end-stack glory.
"What a deal for those kids...they smash over the boxes, which HAD to be fun...and Mommy cleans up the mess. Why aren't the kids cleaning up the mess with her?" I wonder.
Middle sister is quick to make sure Mommy knows it's ALL Caden's fault. Caden might finally be realizing that he should do something that Mommy says to do...
Nope. By the time I decide that all the Rack Room sandals can stay at Rack Room today, he is running down another aisle, unsupervised, with Mommy yelling after him..."CADEN! Come back here."
I am tired for her. Shoe shopping is hard enough without unruly 2-year-olds. But I also wonder if she isn't making life hard on herself. I guess maybe one day I'll find out if my pious musings about two-year-olds will come back to bite me on my sore toe that I earned from wearing wedges that don't bend.
Then there's the one about the two teen-age sisters who fight in the dressing room next to me... The short version is this:
"You're a brat."
"You better listen to me. I'm in charge."
"No you're not. Linda is..."
"Well, Linda isn't in here. I am."
"You're ugly."
"I am not. I'm prettier than you."
"Ugly."
Now, girls, you're both being ugly...
"At least I have a boyfriend and I'm allowed to have a boyfriend."
"So?"
"You look stupid in that shirt."
"You look stupid in everything. I'm going back out."
"Go find Linda."
"You can't tell me what to do."
Man, this is a cute shirt...I bet it doesn't need ironing. I totally need this...
"Can to."
"Can not. I'm going to find Linda."
"'Cause I told you to."
They walk out fighting. I'm hoping they look back on these days fondly and don't say anything to each other that causes permanent damage. I think boys break each other's noses, and girls fight in dressing rooms (I fought with my mom, who of course had NO TASTE when I was 14 - 17 years old). They will end up sharing everything they bought yesterday...
Shopping is fun!
(disclaimer...I do not have a 2-year-old child, so it's easy for me to make assessments about what I would do. I realize that I am "judging" with little knowledge of the challenges of reining in the equivalent of a hurricane-force of energy.)
In Rack Room Shoes, Rock Hill:
Mom: "Caden, sit down."
Caden: "Sttaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacy!"
Stacy: "Caden, stay right beside me."
Caden: full-force running around the chairs in the opposite direction of Aunt Stacy.
Caden proceeds to bounce back and forth between mommy and auntie for a full ten minutes. They were looking in separate aisles. I am in the clearance section trying to determine if it's unwise to purchase wedge shoes that do not bend on the bottom. "Will these hurt my feet if they don't bend?" I think.
"Mooooommmmy, NO!" thoughts interrupted by Caden.
"Aunt Staaaaaccccccyyyyyyyy!" Caden yells, full voice.
"Let's use our inside voice, Caden." I think. "I should leave the unbendy shoes here. Sounds good now...but my flat feet will suffer later..."
I notice that now neither Aunt Stacy nor Mommy has an eye on the two year old. But his four year old sister is trying to take over the duty. That's not working out well.
"Caden, SIT IN THAT CHAIR!" says Mommy.
"Stacy!!!!!!!!!!" Caden cries, trying to play one off the other. This ploy must have worked for him in the past.
Five more minutes of back-and-forth...pleas to sit still, or stay beside me, or not to touch, etc. I am pondering a really sweet pair of beige wedges that DO bend on the bottom, determining whether I should pay so much for sandals...
Caden is coming toward me pushing a chair in front of him down the aisle at a high velocity. There isn't a Mommy or Auntie in sight. Oooh. Busted. He is found out!! Just before he runs over my foot.
"Maybe two-year-old boys cannot 'behave' in shoe stores when it's 75 degrees and sunny out. Maybe he should be in a field running out all that energy," I think. "Can I justify bronze sandals that are the sexiest things I've ever seen and look like they were made for my feet? How many brown-ish sandals are too many brown-ish sandals? What can brown do for me?"
Caden is still pitting Mommy against Stacy...big, big sister is getting their opinions on a fetching pair of white sandals. She obviously can keep pace with the shopping sisters. Middle sister and Caden are dangerously close to a large pile of Croc knock-offs on an end-cap.
"I bet those look like those cardboard bricks to him..." I think, still pondering my sexy brown wedges that kind-of bend on the bottom.
They DO look like something to be knocked over, as he and middle sister successfully topple the entire stack of probably 25 boxes of croc wannabes.
It takes Mommy a minute to figure out what the collosal crash is.
"CADEN. SIT DOWN RIGHT NOW!" She nearly yells.
"Why should he?" I think, "You haven't enforced the sitting or the staying close for at least the last fifteen minutes that I've been here. You have merely asked, and when he doesn't respond, you let him go to Aunt Stacy. He's smart, lady, this is working in his favor." I think piously. "And I don't need brown sandals today, sexy or not...maybe they'll go on sale in a few weeks."
Mommy proceeds to command Caden and middle sister to the chairs that they were only recently pushing around the store like shopping carts. She then squats down to set up all the boxes again and restore them to their former end-stack glory.
"What a deal for those kids...they smash over the boxes, which HAD to be fun...and Mommy cleans up the mess. Why aren't the kids cleaning up the mess with her?" I wonder.
Middle sister is quick to make sure Mommy knows it's ALL Caden's fault. Caden might finally be realizing that he should do something that Mommy says to do...
Nope. By the time I decide that all the Rack Room sandals can stay at Rack Room today, he is running down another aisle, unsupervised, with Mommy yelling after him..."CADEN! Come back here."
I am tired for her. Shoe shopping is hard enough without unruly 2-year-olds. But I also wonder if she isn't making life hard on herself. I guess maybe one day I'll find out if my pious musings about two-year-olds will come back to bite me on my sore toe that I earned from wearing wedges that don't bend.
Then there's the one about the two teen-age sisters who fight in the dressing room next to me... The short version is this:
"You're a brat."
"You better listen to me. I'm in charge."
"No you're not. Linda is..."
"Well, Linda isn't in here. I am."
"You're ugly."
"I am not. I'm prettier than you."
"Ugly."
Now, girls, you're both being ugly...
"At least I have a boyfriend and I'm allowed to have a boyfriend."
"So?"
"You look stupid in that shirt."
"You look stupid in everything. I'm going back out."
"Go find Linda."
"You can't tell me what to do."
Man, this is a cute shirt...I bet it doesn't need ironing. I totally need this...
"Can to."
"Can not. I'm going to find Linda."
"'Cause I told you to."
They walk out fighting. I'm hoping they look back on these days fondly and don't say anything to each other that causes permanent damage. I think boys break each other's noses, and girls fight in dressing rooms (I fought with my mom, who of course had NO TASTE when I was 14 - 17 years old). They will end up sharing everything they bought yesterday...
Shopping is fun!
3.22.2008
Denver Dance Died
I've just returned from Denver, and should already be in bed, getting my body clock adjusted. We went to cheer on our Eagles in the first-round NCAA Tournament. And cheer we did...but when the bottom fell out in the second half, we mostly sat. Stunned. I am not a player on the team, so I won't surmise what factors might have prompted the smack-down. It wasn't just the losing, it was the extreme loss that was painful.
Denver, however, has many charms to offer. A quick drive westward produces mining towns, snow-capped mountains, and winding roads. An unexpected joy too, was a visit with my cousin, who has lived far away since we were young teenagers...so our visits have been far and few between. We keep up mostly by email these days, but how great to hang with your cuz in her 'hood. (hee hee)
I am adding something to my as yet non-existent life "to do" list...see a great concert at Red Rocks Amphitheatre (I'll post pics soon)...I was hoping we might win our game and get to stay around for Easter Sunrise service there. It is God's little gift to Denver, and they have made the most of it. I sang a few bars of "Climb Every Mountain" on the stage to test the acoustics and just to say I had. My jello legs held me up despite the bazillion stairs we had just scaled. There are a few places in the world that seem to be natural sanctuaries meant for worship. Red Rocks is one of those. Driving on a squiggly road at 10,000 feet is also pretty cool.
So, we returned defeated, deflated, but Denver-ated. It was a good trip, all in all. I am thankful for the opportunity and a for few days out of the rat race. And now, I'm thankful for my flat pillow, my doggie foot-warmer, and the kind of quiet that only your own home can provide for restful sleep.
Good night.
3.16.2008
Whatsoever things are lovely...
That is part of a great scripture I had to memorize when I was a Missionette. (don't know about missionettes? it's like girl scouts for the Assemblies of God denomination...we earned badges and everything! good times)
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Philippians 4:8
So, a wee bit chastised by said verse, I feel compelled to balance out the thingsthatdrivemecrazy list with a wee list of things I find delightful. Surely not such a hard thing to do! (and it occurs to me I could very nearly just write the opposite of the other list's points...but I shan't...I shall try to be more original...and these are not ordered, merely writing them as I think of them...don't think me a heretic if my number one is not about Jesus)
1. Not having to set an alarm clock
2. Coffee with hot chocolate in it on Saturday morning in pj's
3. Knowing that my husband loves me...even though I know I am so fault-full
4. The merest thought of the magnitude of God's love and grace
5. Being nice to strangers
6. When patience wins over impatience
7. green plants in my house
8. Finishing a project
9. Tulips of any color
10. Taking a moment to take a picture of something just because I find it lovely or interesting
11. family time at Christmas
12. the sound of crickets and smell of freshly cut grass in early Summer
13. hearing Sarah DeShields talk--not only does she have an awesome Scottish accent, she seems to emanate an ethereal grace
14. a lowercase letter "j"
15. warm sun on my face
16. warm chocolate chip cookies and a mug o' milk
17. getting frosted mini wheats with lots of sugar on the one side
18. finding unexpected money in coat pockets or purses
19. when Jerod answers the phone with his lovey, silly voice just for me
20. France/Mont St. Michel/Paris/Ste. Chapelle/Chenonceau--I could live in France
21. Discovering that the "youth" I've worked with are all grown-up with amazing thoughts, ambitious endeavors, and lives that follow Christ--it's beautiful to see that work in progress
22. Painted toenails and sandals when the chill leaves
23. Birkenstocks, Birkenstocks, Birkenstocks
24. Tax refunds
25. a clean house at the beginning of the weekend
26. Almost anything that is ORANGE, except oompa loompas (I might add oompa loompas to the previous post!)
Wow. I could really go on and on!!! Thank you, Lord, for lovely things. They all must be a reflection of You somehow.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Philippians 4:8
So, a wee bit chastised by said verse, I feel compelled to balance out the thingsthatdrivemecrazy list with a wee list of things I find delightful. Surely not such a hard thing to do! (and it occurs to me I could very nearly just write the opposite of the other list's points...but I shan't...I shall try to be more original...and these are not ordered, merely writing them as I think of them...don't think me a heretic if my number one is not about Jesus)
1. Not having to set an alarm clock
2. Coffee with hot chocolate in it on Saturday morning in pj's
3. Knowing that my husband loves me...even though I know I am so fault-full
4. The merest thought of the magnitude of God's love and grace
5. Being nice to strangers
6. When patience wins over impatience
7. green plants in my house
8. Finishing a project
9. Tulips of any color
10. Taking a moment to take a picture of something just because I find it lovely or interesting
11. family time at Christmas
12. the sound of crickets and smell of freshly cut grass in early Summer
13. hearing Sarah DeShields talk--not only does she have an awesome Scottish accent, she seems to emanate an ethereal grace
14. a lowercase letter "j"
15. warm sun on my face
16. warm chocolate chip cookies and a mug o' milk
17. getting frosted mini wheats with lots of sugar on the one side
18. finding unexpected money in coat pockets or purses
19. when Jerod answers the phone with his lovey, silly voice just for me
20. France/Mont St. Michel/Paris/Ste. Chapelle/Chenonceau--I could live in France
21. Discovering that the "youth" I've worked with are all grown-up with amazing thoughts, ambitious endeavors, and lives that follow Christ--it's beautiful to see that work in progress
22. Painted toenails and sandals when the chill leaves
23. Birkenstocks, Birkenstocks, Birkenstocks
24. Tax refunds
25. a clean house at the beginning of the weekend
26. Almost anything that is ORANGE, except oompa loompas (I might add oompa loompas to the previous post!)
Wow. I could really go on and on!!! Thank you, Lord, for lovely things. They all must be a reflection of You somehow.
3.14.2008
I'm trying so hard, but...
...sometimes I just want to let the ugly part of my brain out of its cage. I'm moving toward a place of greater patience and fewer judgements...so I'm hoping this tiny vent will serve to blow off some steam, and will help me keep moving forward. And some of these are things I do, so I'm being all-access here.
Things that drive me crazy:
1. When people don't use blinkers
2. When people make NO ATTEMPT to recycle, even when they own a recycling bin, or their office recycles.
3. Being late (even when it's me)
4. People who don't RSVP when invited to an event that asks for an RSVP...it's not rocket science!
5. Really dirty public restrooms
6. Forgetting to tape episodes of "LOST"...it's not the same watching it online
7. When people use the Bible to support a hate agenda (notice I'm not hating them, as that would be the same thing they're doing...but they are allowed to drive me crazy)
8. Finding a coupon in my purse a day after buying the item full price
9. Melted chocolate
10. When people pick up their cell phone to tell you they don't have time to talk...let it go to voicemail!!! Call me back when you DO have time!!!
11. (you didn't think I could stop at 10, did you?) Scuffing my awesome new shoes the very first time I wear them
12. The smell of paperwhites (it's a flower that smells like kerosene)
13. Any "news" of Britney Spears right now...let's get out of herweave , I mean hair
14. Quick edits or commercials that surprise you with something really disgusting, like someone reaching his/her hand into a bloody orifice or eating a giant bug, etc. Give me some warning!!
15. Itchy tags in clothing
16. Ugly power point presentations and most templates for power point
17. ...The fact that most convenience snack foods I like seem to be carbohydrate-laden
18. Being sneezed or coughed upon
19. When people say "The number 'B' (with any letter)" or "6 a.m. in the morning"
20. Poor grammar on television, especially news and pop music (see post from a few months back)
22. When people number things and skip a number
That should about do it. I will post something lovely after this to balance the hateration.
Things that drive me crazy:
1. When people don't use blinkers
2. When people make NO ATTEMPT to recycle, even when they own a recycling bin, or their office recycles.
3. Being late (even when it's me)
4. People who don't RSVP when invited to an event that asks for an RSVP...it's not rocket science!
5. Really dirty public restrooms
6. Forgetting to tape episodes of "LOST"...it's not the same watching it online
7. When people use the Bible to support a hate agenda (notice I'm not hating them, as that would be the same thing they're doing...but they are allowed to drive me crazy)
8. Finding a coupon in my purse a day after buying the item full price
9. Melted chocolate
10. When people pick up their cell phone to tell you they don't have time to talk...let it go to voicemail!!! Call me back when you DO have time!!!
11. (you didn't think I could stop at 10, did you?) Scuffing my awesome new shoes the very first time I wear them
12. The smell of paperwhites (it's a flower that smells like kerosene)
13. Any "news" of Britney Spears right now...let's get out of her
14. Quick edits or commercials that surprise you with something really disgusting, like someone reaching his/her hand into a bloody orifice or eating a giant bug, etc. Give me some warning!!
15. Itchy tags in clothing
16. Ugly power point presentations and most templates for power point
17. ...The fact that most convenience snack foods I like seem to be carbohydrate-laden
18. Being sneezed or coughed upon
19. When people say "The number 'B' (with any letter)" or "6 a.m. in the morning"
20. Poor grammar on television, especially news and pop music (see post from a few months back)
22. When people number things and skip a number
That should about do it. I will post something lovely after this to balance the hateration.
3.08.2008
Oh, I wanna dance with somebody!
There are those days that are just right. Today was one of those days. We've been avid fans of the Winthrop Eagles since our days as students on campus...but especially in the past few years as I've gone back to work there and we're in the thick of it. The Men's Basketball Team has been playing hard this year, but has had some trouble against one particular team...UNC-Asheville. Asheville has a great team, complete with the tallest player in college basketball at 7'7" and some outstanding shooters. We lost to them twice in the regular season and tied them for first place in the conference. When I say "lost," you should read "got creamed." So, when the two teams met again today for the conference championship, we were slightly hopeful, but mostly just that we would not get our hineys handed to us on a platter. The Eagles came out in fine form...the basketball seemed to magically find the net over and over, while the Bulldogs couldn't get their shoot on at all. It was all too wonderful to watch. We stood and cheered ourselves hoarse at the screen, jumping up and down...high-fiving...dancing around. It was fantastic. Yes, it's a little orange ball and a net, but a triumph for a team who lost a teammate this year and their coach. I love the Eagles, win or lose, they have lots of heart. GO EAGLES GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
2.26.2008
The Gospel Truth-what a gem
It has taken me over 30 years. But at least it's happening! I am finally starting to clear away the Christianese clutter and uncover a vibrant, real, true, and lasting faith. Much like when folks are treasure-hunting and digging in the ground...they uncover something that looks like it might be valuable...a ruby or emerald...that's been there all along...but has been heretofore covered with dirt, grass, and the like. But it's amazing what the gem can look like when the dirt is washed, the stone is polished and cut just so! It looks like a whole new jewel!!
So, here I am. I've been carrying this dusty, rough-cut jewel around since I was five, but didn't know exactly how beautiful a thing it was. It has at various times been covered in a film of name-it-claim-it vending machine Jesus rhetoric, a heavy coating of left-behind-mark-of-the-beast-cut-my-head-off fear of the Anti-Christ, moral-majority-everyone-should-be-a-Republican dust, be-externally-holy-or-else-you're-excommunicated sludge, you-have-faith-because-of-what-you-don't-do/drink/listen-to grime, etc. (And if none of that hyper-hyphenation made sense to you, thank your Lord!) Likely, in our country, however, at least one of those hyper-hyphenations rings true, whether you've lived smack in the middle of it or been smacked by it in some way. I would go so far as to call it American Evangelical brainwashing, even though some of it is obviously not all bad...most of it does not really look a thing like the Kingdom of God that Jesus describes. The Kingdom of God that is "at hand"...meaning it should be happening in each of us NOW. Not when the clouds split open and we all meet Him in the air on some glad morning.
I can understand how previous generations have had their minds on what is to come, generations of enslaved African-Americans who got through the day by singing about "across the Jordan" and having a "crown up in a that Kingdom." Early Pentecostals, whose lives were transformed by Jesus, yearning for the "sweet Beulah land" and flying away.
So, I'll give you all that. The whole of this American religious conversation and its movements have a root in something real, a real desire to see the world righted through political agendas, increased wealth, "turn or burn" fear factors, a drive toward holiness...Yes, and amen to those who see that the world is turning on an unholy axis! It solidifies the notion of original sin and that we are in need of something or someone to save us.
But we've missed the point. We've been so busy trying to build roads to God that we've missed the fact that there is no need for a road. He's HERE. He came here, and He lives here in the heart of His followers. When we FOLLOW him, rather than try to find a methodical way to get to Him, He will do the work of transforming the world around us. He will draw people to Himself, convict them of their sins, convince them of their need for Him and for His grace. He will extend love through us, heal broken hearts and broken bodies. He will revolutionize the political system, but not the way we think of it.
"But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." (Matt. 6:33) His system is bizarro world to us. My Pastor wrote some modern beatitudes. This is what the Kingdom of God should look like NOW, HERE, on EARTH. This is what we will look like when we follow Him. It's not what we strive for, it's what He will mold us into. It's worth nothing less than everything we have.
My jewel is starting to look less grimy every day! Thank you Lord for revealing YOUR truths, for washing the filth off that has been accumulating...for revealing your beauty and for shining.
So, here I am. I've been carrying this dusty, rough-cut jewel around since I was five, but didn't know exactly how beautiful a thing it was. It has at various times been covered in a film of name-it-claim-it vending machine Jesus rhetoric, a heavy coating of left-behind-mark-of-the-beast-cut-my-head-off fear of the Anti-Christ, moral-majority-everyone-should-be-a-Republican dust, be-externally-holy-or-else-you're-excommunicated sludge, you-have-faith-because-of-what-you-don't-do/drink/listen-to grime, etc. (And if none of that hyper-hyphenation made sense to you, thank your Lord!) Likely, in our country, however, at least one of those hyper-hyphenations rings true, whether you've lived smack in the middle of it or been smacked by it in some way. I would go so far as to call it American Evangelical brainwashing, even though some of it is obviously not all bad...most of it does not really look a thing like the Kingdom of God that Jesus describes. The Kingdom of God that is "at hand"...meaning it should be happening in each of us NOW. Not when the clouds split open and we all meet Him in the air on some glad morning.
I can understand how previous generations have had their minds on what is to come, generations of enslaved African-Americans who got through the day by singing about "across the Jordan" and having a "crown up in a that Kingdom." Early Pentecostals, whose lives were transformed by Jesus, yearning for the "sweet Beulah land" and flying away.
So, I'll give you all that. The whole of this American religious conversation and its movements have a root in something real, a real desire to see the world righted through political agendas, increased wealth, "turn or burn" fear factors, a drive toward holiness...Yes, and amen to those who see that the world is turning on an unholy axis! It solidifies the notion of original sin and that we are in need of something or someone to save us.
But we've missed the point. We've been so busy trying to build roads to God that we've missed the fact that there is no need for a road. He's HERE. He came here, and He lives here in the heart of His followers. When we FOLLOW him, rather than try to find a methodical way to get to Him, He will do the work of transforming the world around us. He will draw people to Himself, convict them of their sins, convince them of their need for Him and for His grace. He will extend love through us, heal broken hearts and broken bodies. He will revolutionize the political system, but not the way we think of it.
"But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." (Matt. 6:33) His system is bizarro world to us. My Pastor wrote some modern beatitudes. This is what the Kingdom of God should look like NOW, HERE, on EARTH. This is what we will look like when we follow Him. It's not what we strive for, it's what He will mold us into. It's worth nothing less than everything we have.
My jewel is starting to look less grimy every day! Thank you Lord for revealing YOUR truths, for washing the filth off that has been accumulating...for revealing your beauty and for shining.
2.17.2008
If only all the world were a musical...
A recent conversation with Michelle reminded me of my longing to live, even for one day, in a world that operates like a musical. I kind of do this at home, though my musical selections haven't much to do with the moment. I go from singing Heart to Hymns in nanoseconds. One of my most annoying traits (to me) is the fact that I sometimes can only sing about two lines of any given song before I (A) start making up my own lyrics or (B) sing nonsense until I get to words I know again.
In musicals, life can be navigated with a mere song. The poor scarecrow laments his pure stupidity and inability to make any decisions with "If I Only Had a Brain." Sadly, I hum this under my breath when I meet certain people. (shameful, yes) Maria makes it all better when the Von Trapp children pile on her bed during a storm by singing, "My Favorite Things" {extraneous side-bar: this song is NOT a Christmas song, please stop playing it in the Christmas rotation}. Even a rainstorm is made lovely with Gene Kelly's "Singing in the Rain" and accompanying tap dance.
A song about a flat, brown state becomes exciting with "Oooooooook-lahoma, where the wind comes sweeping down the plain..." Life would be easier to live if we could just whip out the perfect song, sing it with gusto and back-up dancers, arms wide open to possibilities.
But we got all post-modern and realized that life was more layered and complicated and cliches are no longer cool or relevant. BUMMER!
Singing out loud is good for the soul. It makes your heart hum along...even if you can't sing, we've learned from American Idol that that is not such a hardship...as long as YOU believe you can sing (and do so in the privacy of your shower or car).
Most people REALLY LOVE or REALLY HATE a good musical. This hate sentiment...I do not understand. What a wonderful world it would be if anytime we felt like it, all time would stand still for a moment, the orchestra would swell, and we could belt out "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" or "I Could Have Danced All Night" or "Can't Help Lovin' dat Man." As long as we all took turns and backed each other up with good backing vocals, what's the harm? Musicals for President, 2008!
In musicals, life can be navigated with a mere song. The poor scarecrow laments his pure stupidity and inability to make any decisions with "If I Only Had a Brain." Sadly, I hum this under my breath when I meet certain people. (shameful, yes) Maria makes it all better when the Von Trapp children pile on her bed during a storm by singing, "My Favorite Things" {extraneous side-bar: this song is NOT a Christmas song, please stop playing it in the Christmas rotation}. Even a rainstorm is made lovely with Gene Kelly's "Singing in the Rain" and accompanying tap dance.
A song about a flat, brown state becomes exciting with "Oooooooook-lahoma, where the wind comes sweeping down the plain..." Life would be easier to live if we could just whip out the perfect song, sing it with gusto and back-up dancers, arms wide open to possibilities.
But we got all post-modern and realized that life was more layered and complicated and cliches are no longer cool or relevant. BUMMER!
Singing out loud is good for the soul. It makes your heart hum along...even if you can't sing, we've learned from American Idol that that is not such a hardship...as long as YOU believe you can sing (and do so in the privacy of your shower or car).
Most people REALLY LOVE or REALLY HATE a good musical. This hate sentiment...I do not understand. What a wonderful world it would be if anytime we felt like it, all time would stand still for a moment, the orchestra would swell, and we could belt out "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" or "I Could Have Danced All Night" or "Can't Help Lovin' dat Man." As long as we all took turns and backed each other up with good backing vocals, what's the harm? Musicals for President, 2008!
2.15.2008
One more jumped out of the lifeboat.
I've been reading some Donald Miller along with my chapters of Matthew, and it's as though he knew I'd be reading the Beatitudes (Matt. 5) along with his book. The book of which I speak is Searching for God Knows What. I've had it for quite a while, and just recently finally picked it up. I could go on for days about Miller's spot-on writing style--how he so very casually seems to be able to target the holes in my theology and heart and fill them with God's truths. He is an amazing human. More on that in a moment...
But what strikes me today is yet another story of a probable fractured soul who has taken lives as well as his own in a final statement to the world. After a whirlwind Thursday, we did not have time to turn on the TV and get any news yesterday, so when I awoke, I saw another mass-shooting/suicide unfolding before my eyes, this time in Illinois. And so many would dismiss this fellow as just another "crazy." Notwithstanding the possibility of mental illness, I see him as someone who was likely marginalized and disregarded by his peers and/or family. We will probably see his story unfold much in the way of the Christmas mall shooter, Virginia Tech, YWAM/Colorado, and Columbine scenerios. I feel so sorry for these people who obviously have not had a community who listen to them, support them, and provide direction for them. They feel the need to make a final statement and to get an audience at any cost.
Miller unpacks a "lifeboat" theory in his book...a loose analogy of our living our lives as though we're in a lifeboat with a few too many people to make the lifeboat effective...so someone has to go or be sacrificed in order to keep the whole boat afloat and rescue the remaining ones. We all live in such a way as to secure our "worthiness" to survive. The smart act smarter, the lovely display their beauty, the holy judge and look down upon the less righteous (irony intended), etc. We group ourselves in ways to secure a slightly higher spot in the pecking order. We all have someone that we perceived as less-fill-in-the-blank than we are, and so we feel secure in our position. Or, if we are not getting enough affirmation, we find ways to prove our worth through performance/achievement, beauty creams (or worst-case scenerio plastic surgery that pulls our wrinkles behind our hairlines and draws the skin up from the toes, plumpers that make the smile look forced and the eyes surprised--SCARY!), or we buy things that make us look/feel successful--gadgets, toys, and the like. Of course, I could expound upon this idea ad infinitum, but you get the drift. We are all in a self-worth race and are desperate to prove that we are not the loser, the one who gets thrown over the side and left for the sharks.
My Pastor often refers to God's Kingdom as "a Kingdom upside-down." That is, completely opposite of the earthly kingdoms we understand. It's true...everything about capitalism and every other -ism flies in the face of Scripture. Miller asserts that indeed this is true in the lifeboat. We are all looking around the boat, desperate to prove our own case, when the Scriptural method of finding our self-worth is to let the Creator TELL us who we are. Not who we are in comparison to others, but who we are TO HIM. What HE has created us to accomplish, whom HE has called us to serve. By listening to HIS voice, following HIS word, and reveling in HIS affirmation, we are then able to repair a fractured society instead of participating in the fractured-ness.
Jesus never hung out in the lifeboat. He didn't hang out with the up-and-comers, the religious folks, the beautiful people. He hung out with the marginalized, the sinners, the tax-collectors, the prostitutes...because He didn't have anything to lose. He listened to his Father. His Father told him who He was and what He had to accomplish. He didn't play games for political power, though he certainly could have. He didn't use the crowds of people who followed him around to get rich, though he could have. He was simple and loving. He reminded us that the meek inherit the earth, that the poor in spirit will see the Kingdom of God, that those who mourn will be comforted. He tells us to hunger and thirst for God alone. None of those kinds of people last very long in the lifeboat. Those are the people who are not listened to in our society, whose isolation feeds mental illness, who are not being reached by the light of Christ, by the church--communities that are supposed to be healing and reaching out to the marginalized. We are missing something with our version of Christianity. I think we are missing the real boat in our attempt to cling to the only boat that feels familiar. Even though on that "life"boat (misnomer) we will all eventually sink.
But what strikes me today is yet another story of a probable fractured soul who has taken lives as well as his own in a final statement to the world. After a whirlwind Thursday, we did not have time to turn on the TV and get any news yesterday, so when I awoke, I saw another mass-shooting/suicide unfolding before my eyes, this time in Illinois. And so many would dismiss this fellow as just another "crazy." Notwithstanding the possibility of mental illness, I see him as someone who was likely marginalized and disregarded by his peers and/or family. We will probably see his story unfold much in the way of the Christmas mall shooter, Virginia Tech, YWAM/Colorado, and Columbine scenerios. I feel so sorry for these people who obviously have not had a community who listen to them, support them, and provide direction for them. They feel the need to make a final statement and to get an audience at any cost.
Miller unpacks a "lifeboat" theory in his book...a loose analogy of our living our lives as though we're in a lifeboat with a few too many people to make the lifeboat effective...so someone has to go or be sacrificed in order to keep the whole boat afloat and rescue the remaining ones. We all live in such a way as to secure our "worthiness" to survive. The smart act smarter, the lovely display their beauty, the holy judge and look down upon the less righteous (irony intended), etc. We group ourselves in ways to secure a slightly higher spot in the pecking order. We all have someone that we perceived as less-fill-in-the-blank than we are, and so we feel secure in our position. Or, if we are not getting enough affirmation, we find ways to prove our worth through performance/achievement, beauty creams (or worst-case scenerio plastic surgery that pulls our wrinkles behind our hairlines and draws the skin up from the toes, plumpers that make the smile look forced and the eyes surprised--SCARY!), or we buy things that make us look/feel successful--gadgets, toys, and the like. Of course, I could expound upon this idea ad infinitum, but you get the drift. We are all in a self-worth race and are desperate to prove that we are not the loser, the one who gets thrown over the side and left for the sharks.
My Pastor often refers to God's Kingdom as "a Kingdom upside-down." That is, completely opposite of the earthly kingdoms we understand. It's true...everything about capitalism and every other -ism flies in the face of Scripture. Miller asserts that indeed this is true in the lifeboat. We are all looking around the boat, desperate to prove our own case, when the Scriptural method of finding our self-worth is to let the Creator TELL us who we are. Not who we are in comparison to others, but who we are TO HIM. What HE has created us to accomplish, whom HE has called us to serve. By listening to HIS voice, following HIS word, and reveling in HIS affirmation, we are then able to repair a fractured society instead of participating in the fractured-ness.
Jesus never hung out in the lifeboat. He didn't hang out with the up-and-comers, the religious folks, the beautiful people. He hung out with the marginalized, the sinners, the tax-collectors, the prostitutes...because He didn't have anything to lose. He listened to his Father. His Father told him who He was and what He had to accomplish. He didn't play games for political power, though he certainly could have. He didn't use the crowds of people who followed him around to get rich, though he could have. He was simple and loving. He reminded us that the meek inherit the earth, that the poor in spirit will see the Kingdom of God, that those who mourn will be comforted. He tells us to hunger and thirst for God alone. None of those kinds of people last very long in the lifeboat. Those are the people who are not listened to in our society, whose isolation feeds mental illness, who are not being reached by the light of Christ, by the church--communities that are supposed to be healing and reaching out to the marginalized. We are missing something with our version of Christianity. I think we are missing the real boat in our attempt to cling to the only boat that feels familiar. Even though on that "life"boat (misnomer) we will all eventually sink.
2.11.2008
Refine Me-a prayer
a fine and lovely song that popped into my head during Jesus time...you really should hear it sung, but this will do--I suppose.
I come into this place
Burning to receive your peace
I come with my own chains from wars I've fought for my own selfish gain
You're my God and my Father
I've accepted your Son
But my soul feels so empty now
What have I become?
Lord, come with your fire, burn my desires; refine me
Lord, my will has deceived me
Please come and free me
Refine me
My heart can't see when I only look at me
My soul can't hear when I only think of my own fears
They are gone in a moment; You're forever the same
Why did I look away from You?
How can I speak Your name?
Lord, come with Your fire, burn my desires; refine me
Lord, my will has deceived me
Please come and free me
Come rescue this child
For I long to be reconciled to You
It's all I can do to give my heart and soul to You
And pray, and pray, oh I will pray
Lord, come with Your fire, burn my desires; refine me
Lord, my will has deceived me
Please come and free me
Come rescue this child
For I long to be reconciled to You
Refine me, refine me
Refine me, refine me
Words/Music by Kim Bontrager
Recorded by Jennifer Knapp on "Kansas"
I come into this place
Burning to receive your peace
I come with my own chains from wars I've fought for my own selfish gain
You're my God and my Father
I've accepted your Son
But my soul feels so empty now
What have I become?
Lord, come with your fire, burn my desires; refine me
Lord, my will has deceived me
Please come and free me
Refine me
My heart can't see when I only look at me
My soul can't hear when I only think of my own fears
They are gone in a moment; You're forever the same
Why did I look away from You?
How can I speak Your name?
Lord, come with Your fire, burn my desires; refine me
Lord, my will has deceived me
Please come and free me
Come rescue this child
For I long to be reconciled to You
It's all I can do to give my heart and soul to You
And pray, and pray, oh I will pray
Lord, come with Your fire, burn my desires; refine me
Lord, my will has deceived me
Please come and free me
Come rescue this child
For I long to be reconciled to You
Refine me, refine me
Refine me, refine me
Words/Music by Kim Bontrager
Recorded by Jennifer Knapp on "Kansas"
2.09.2008
Pave Paradise and put up a Parking Lot
In the name of Woods, I beg you! Stop clearing trees for more shopping centers and beige cracker-box vinyl siding houses on postage stamp lots!!!!!!!!!!
Isn't that a lovely reaction to my drive in the "country" today? We wove our way over to Waxhaw (say that sentence three times fast), featuring mostly-enjoyable scenery, some cows, older homes on hills...but my oh me. They have basically sheared the stretch of land between Historic Downtown Waxhaw and Marvin road. Waxhawians (?) certainly should have some amenities, as their ranks threaten to take over the world...but does every corner have to be a Target-RackRoom-Michaels comporium? On a two lane road that's the only way and the only way out? I'm not even a city planner by trade, and I can tell you this is all adding up to be a great big mess. I was ever-so-sad to drive by a friend of mine's road, which used to be hard to find "go over the bridge, pass the murky forest, and turn right at the cupboard shop." Some mean bulldozer has eliminated the murky forest for what I'm assuming will be a Super Target. (for the record...LOVE Target) But the price of growth there seems far too high. I am sad for the people who moved to the sticks over 20 years ago and now find their beautiful Tara-like home overlooking the Harris Teeter/CVS flourescent show.
We will look back on this era of expansion when everyone deserved a Harris Teeter (grocery, in case you don't live around here) within four minutes of his/her home...and be sad that we paved paradise and put up a parking lot. Especially as we gasp for breatheable AIR because the only trees left are in museums!
(rant over, you may now return to your regularly scheduled programming)
Isn't that a lovely reaction to my drive in the "country" today? We wove our way over to Waxhaw (say that sentence three times fast), featuring mostly-enjoyable scenery, some cows, older homes on hills...but my oh me. They have basically sheared the stretch of land between Historic Downtown Waxhaw and Marvin road. Waxhawians (?) certainly should have some amenities, as their ranks threaten to take over the world...but does every corner have to be a Target-RackRoom-Michaels comporium? On a two lane road that's the only way and the only way out? I'm not even a city planner by trade, and I can tell you this is all adding up to be a great big mess. I was ever-so-sad to drive by a friend of mine's road, which used to be hard to find "go over the bridge, pass the murky forest, and turn right at the cupboard shop." Some mean bulldozer has eliminated the murky forest for what I'm assuming will be a Super Target. (for the record...LOVE Target) But the price of growth there seems far too high. I am sad for the people who moved to the sticks over 20 years ago and now find their beautiful Tara-like home overlooking the Harris Teeter/CVS flourescent show.
We will look back on this era of expansion when everyone deserved a Harris Teeter (grocery, in case you don't live around here) within four minutes of his/her home...and be sad that we paved paradise and put up a parking lot. Especially as we gasp for breatheable AIR because the only trees left are in museums!
(rant over, you may now return to your regularly scheduled programming)
2.06.2008
I have been a spastic wind-up toy.
It's true. Let me tell you how I know.
We've signed up for a great experiment at church. As a church, we are all covenanting (is that a word) to spend at least 30 minutes in prayer/journaling/Scripture-reading every day. We will fast for one 24-hour period each week, and we will participate in a small group (for many reasons, but not the least of which is to have folks to hold us accountable for above activities).
Our focus Scripturally is the Book of Matthew. I have been reading and digesting it, with the help of Dr. Hauerwas. I am only on Chapter 2, as I am trying my best to digest slowly and not race through like a speed-eating champion. I tend to read fast with momentary comprehension, so I am fighting the good fight to "read deeply."
In Chapter 2, at some point in my life, I underlined all the times Matthew uses the word dream. This chapter is basically about the birth of Christ, his parents, King Herod, and wise men. Obviously something big is going down, so God makes sure everyone understands what should happen by speaking to them in dreams...
...wise men--God warns them in a dream not to return to Herod
...Joseph--he must have slept A LOT! In this chapter alone, he has three distinct directives in dreams...
1. Go to Egypt. Herod is hunting baby boys.
2. Return to Israel. Herod is dead.
3. No, really. It's ok to go back, but settle in Galilee.
And even with all of these specific directives, it mentions that "Joseph is afraid." I mean, this guy has had angels show up in his bedroom! He KNOWS the Lord is real, the Lord is speaking to him, etc. And he still has room for fear. (side note: I wonder how frightening it would be to know that you are parenting the Son of God? Did Jesus need "parenting?" I imagine he never got dragged into a fast food restroom and given the what-for! Were his siblings jealous that he never got in trouble? "Jesus is perfect...he never gets a spanking..." I could go on for hours...)
All of that to say. The Lord is always speaking to us. He is desperate to get through to us, to tell us where to go, what to say, when to do this or that...and that He loves us, he has plans for us...What I have realized in reading just this chapter. I have not rested enough in quiet places to hear God's voice so distinctly. I saw a clear picture of myself as a little wind-up toy, as you might get with a Happy Meal. You wind them 'til you can't wind anymore, and watch them zip around in every direction until they tucker out. Yup. That's me. And while I'm buzzing, I'm rarely listening to God...until I get tuckered out and still...worn out by life and desperate for an answer and clear direction. No more buzzing about. Wind up toys are for kids.
Dear old Donald Miller recounts a story in which a friend tells him reality is like wine...not for children. And the reality is, I cannot continue letting my life live me while squeezing in devotions, short prayers for help, and quiet moments. I need to grow up in the Lord, and discipline my spiritual life, not because I want something...but because He wants me. Not the wind-up toy me, but a real, live, present me...devoted and fueled up for the long haul.
Those wind-up toys always end up breaking anyway.
1.24.2008
Won't You be my Neighbor?
I've been wrestling with something since December. The fact is, I have very, very few friends around. I'm not sure how it happened, and I'm not here to whine, but it's just true. Jerod brought some "regulars" to the marriage table, and we had weekly hang-out time with them...but now they have all moved to other cities, too far for weekly gatherings. I had built-in friends at my old job, where grabbing lunch and going to a youth worker meeting also constituted my social life in an otherwise really busy life. I have also been blessed in the past with lots of great roommates who were sort of a built-in social life...there was typically someone at hand to eat with, see a movie with, go shopping with, etc.
I can't blame this phenomenon on marriage...not my own. I recently lost a good friend to marriage in the sense that she moved to Texas! I did probably retreat a bit when I got married and moved to the "Hill," as I think sometimes I'm a hermit at heart. I won't blame the problem specifically on living farther from Charlotte, though that can be a contributing factor and an excuse when it comes to hanging out with people we know in the far reaches of Charlotte, like University area, Matthews, Indian Trail, etc. I simply removed myself from some natural places of socialization, which I had come to depend on like a crutch.
I accept full culpability in the matter. I have been a poor friend. I don't reach out as much as a good friend should. I have always had the luxury of being a lazy friend, who could just as easily run into people and consider it friendly interaction. I make excuses as to why I shouldn't call someone, "They're probably eating dinner...I'm sure they're hanging out with their real friends this weekend...they're too busy to fit us in...it might be awkward since we haven't hung out in a long time..." and the list goes on and on until I completely talk myself out of contact. Then weeks turn into months, and I'm embarrassed to call because it's been so long.
As Jerod and I continually find ourselves staring at only each other on Friday and Saturday nights, it's not that we don't enjoy one another's company--we do! But sometimes there's a different joy that comes from interaction and exchange with other people...rolling the dice, making jokes, hearing about each other's lives...just good ol' community. I have spiritual community, but I'm somehow losing my connection to social community. The few folks that we've reached out to seem not to be able to do something (granted, sometimes on short notice) time and time again. Leaving me to wonder if there's just something wrong with me--those feelings of inadequacy that hearken back to middle school and high school--when everybody gets invited to the party but you...But that smacks of pity party, and I won't do it.
So, as fumbling humans are wont to do...when all else fails...pray. So sad that it's been bothering me for a month, and I'm just now coming to that. First, I should pray that God would show me how to be a more invested friend, how to listen and follow-up better--with my heart and not just my mind and mouth. Second, I will pray that God bring some folks into our lives that can be "regulars." It seems everyone I know is too busy. We are working, going to school, checking lots of things off our lists... It's hard to think ahead and find time for others until it comes right to the moment of free time. But it must be done. I must pray, listen, plan ahead, invest, and love. And call someone to go to the movies with me!
I can't blame this phenomenon on marriage...not my own. I recently lost a good friend to marriage in the sense that she moved to Texas! I did probably retreat a bit when I got married and moved to the "Hill," as I think sometimes I'm a hermit at heart. I won't blame the problem specifically on living farther from Charlotte, though that can be a contributing factor and an excuse when it comes to hanging out with people we know in the far reaches of Charlotte, like University area, Matthews, Indian Trail, etc. I simply removed myself from some natural places of socialization, which I had come to depend on like a crutch.
I accept full culpability in the matter. I have been a poor friend. I don't reach out as much as a good friend should. I have always had the luxury of being a lazy friend, who could just as easily run into people and consider it friendly interaction. I make excuses as to why I shouldn't call someone, "They're probably eating dinner...I'm sure they're hanging out with their real friends this weekend...they're too busy to fit us in...it might be awkward since we haven't hung out in a long time..." and the list goes on and on until I completely talk myself out of contact. Then weeks turn into months, and I'm embarrassed to call because it's been so long.
As Jerod and I continually find ourselves staring at only each other on Friday and Saturday nights, it's not that we don't enjoy one another's company--we do! But sometimes there's a different joy that comes from interaction and exchange with other people...rolling the dice, making jokes, hearing about each other's lives...just good ol' community. I have spiritual community, but I'm somehow losing my connection to social community. The few folks that we've reached out to seem not to be able to do something (granted, sometimes on short notice) time and time again. Leaving me to wonder if there's just something wrong with me--those feelings of inadequacy that hearken back to middle school and high school--when everybody gets invited to the party but you...But that smacks of pity party, and I won't do it.
So, as fumbling humans are wont to do...when all else fails...pray. So sad that it's been bothering me for a month, and I'm just now coming to that. First, I should pray that God would show me how to be a more invested friend, how to listen and follow-up better--with my heart and not just my mind and mouth. Second, I will pray that God bring some folks into our lives that can be "regulars." It seems everyone I know is too busy. We are working, going to school, checking lots of things off our lists... It's hard to think ahead and find time for others until it comes right to the moment of free time. But it must be done. I must pray, listen, plan ahead, invest, and love. And call someone to go to the movies with me!
1.23.2008
Barack-Star
What an interesting morning it was. After scurrying about getting ready for some Trustees who were visiting, I scurried to campus...only to find the secret service had blocked my only route to my office/parking spot. Now, I was forewarned that this might be a possibility, but I think the email used vague terminology like "possibly" etc. So, I ended up driving in a different entrance and going the wrong way for a few hundred yards (rebel!).
Anywho...all the hub-bub was for Barack Obama, who visited campus today for a 10 am campaign stop. Several of us had procured tickets just to see the excitement and witness an historical event. I have great respect for Senator Obama, who seems to be the first viable black man to run for President (I don't count anyone who has preceded him as viable--my opinion, I guess). Rock Hill is known for the "Friendship Nine" a group of young men who staged one of the earliest lunch-counter sit-ins in the Civil Rights movement (you can still eat lunch there...now it's called the Old Town Bistro). We're a town who just this week had their mayor apologize to Rep. John Lewis (D-Ga) for his getting beaten up at a bus station here years and years ago on a Freedom Riders stop-over. And today, I saw all colors, shapes, and sizes gathered to hear the words of Barack Obama, whose star is obviously rising. So I had to be proud of our gathering...several hundred strong to at least LISTEN to a man who would never have had this opportunity just 20 or 30 years ago.
My co-worker pulled rank in grand style to help a group of us skip the hundreds-long security line and get bumped to the VIP entrance (ha! Go Betty!). We walked through airport-style security with the step-through, wands, hand searching of bags, etc. It all felt very important.
Mostly I sat and absorbed the secret service men and women in their efficient black suits, green lapel pins, walkietalkie watches, and alert eyes. One of them was nearly 7' tall and BIG. I would not like to tangle with him. The room was abuzz with excitement each time someone stepped up to the podium. Some of the "in the know" volunteers began chanting "FIRED UP!" to which folks responded "READY TO GO!" and back and forth for several minutes they went as more and more voices joined them like a high school pep rally.
We were impatient--waiting through sound checks, local organizers, and some lady who was supposed to warm up the crowd and had the personality of day-old bread (sorry, she was really not a warmer-upper...I'm sure she's lovely over lunch).
I cannot pretend to agree with all of his stances. I'm a conservative at heart without a party to call my own. But I realize that just because we have come to expect everything in our lives to be customized exactly to our liking, that I will not find a candidate who is just as passionate about relieving tax pressures and he (or she) is about reforming the education system and making large strides toward environmental wellness. So, I pick my battles with my vote. Ultimately, I can't ask much more of the government than I'm willing to do with my own time and resources. But I digress...
For a Pentecostal girl, the speech and reaction felt very natural. There was the familiar call and response of his saying something that folks agreed with and the applause that erupted. There were those familiar with that process who would verbally "Ummm Hmmmm" in agreement, and then those (mostly white folk) who wanted to respond in some way and without the benefit of such church-training would belt out a "Whoooo!" I don't judge. However you want to affirm, go for it. It was just enjoyable to watch everyone sort that out. He said a few things that made me clap...talking about equity in education, paying teachers what they deserve, NAFTA-bashing, and bringing jobs/labor back to American soil. He said a few things I decidedly did NOT clap for, as I won't disrespect a sitting President/VP for whom I seem to have a great deal more tolerance than most of those present. But again, he's just doing his "job." I was waiting for the Hammond B3 organ to kick in and start the double time special, boom-chick style and for the robed gospel choir to come rolling out of the crowd. (that sentence was primarily for my Pentecostal/black church friends) Not to be stereotypical, but there was that feeling...that feeling of hope and excitement and unity...and imminent singing.
I don't have to agree with him, but I applaud him and his staff members for pulling off something I wasn't sure I'd ever see in my lifetime. Maybe it's especially poignant in this week of Martin Luther King, Jr. day celebrations, having recently seen the "I Have a Dream" footage, and having revisited images of "colored" bathrooms and water fountains...
I have been blessed to have grown up in a world where we have been taught not to judge a man by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character. Sadly, we have many more generations to go before that might be the norm. The sins of our forefathers are still catching up to us in that regard. Hatreds run deep, and forgiveness is slow-growing in pockets of our country. Tensions are still high in 2008, but we're getting there. I enjoyed my moments with the Barack-star today.
Anywho...all the hub-bub was for Barack Obama, who visited campus today for a 10 am campaign stop. Several of us had procured tickets just to see the excitement and witness an historical event. I have great respect for Senator Obama, who seems to be the first viable black man to run for President (I don't count anyone who has preceded him as viable--my opinion, I guess). Rock Hill is known for the "Friendship Nine" a group of young men who staged one of the earliest lunch-counter sit-ins in the Civil Rights movement (you can still eat lunch there...now it's called the Old Town Bistro). We're a town who just this week had their mayor apologize to Rep. John Lewis (D-Ga) for his getting beaten up at a bus station here years and years ago on a Freedom Riders stop-over. And today, I saw all colors, shapes, and sizes gathered to hear the words of Barack Obama, whose star is obviously rising. So I had to be proud of our gathering...several hundred strong to at least LISTEN to a man who would never have had this opportunity just 20 or 30 years ago.
My co-worker pulled rank in grand style to help a group of us skip the hundreds-long security line and get bumped to the VIP entrance (ha! Go Betty!). We walked through airport-style security with the step-through, wands, hand searching of bags, etc. It all felt very important.
Mostly I sat and absorbed the secret service men and women in their efficient black suits, green lapel pins, walkietalkie watches, and alert eyes. One of them was nearly 7' tall and BIG. I would not like to tangle with him. The room was abuzz with excitement each time someone stepped up to the podium. Some of the "in the know" volunteers began chanting "FIRED UP!" to which folks responded "READY TO GO!" and back and forth for several minutes they went as more and more voices joined them like a high school pep rally.
We were impatient--waiting through sound checks, local organizers, and some lady who was supposed to warm up the crowd and had the personality of day-old bread (sorry, she was really not a warmer-upper...I'm sure she's lovely over lunch).
I cannot pretend to agree with all of his stances. I'm a conservative at heart without a party to call my own. But I realize that just because we have come to expect everything in our lives to be customized exactly to our liking, that I will not find a candidate who is just as passionate about relieving tax pressures and he (or she) is about reforming the education system and making large strides toward environmental wellness. So, I pick my battles with my vote. Ultimately, I can't ask much more of the government than I'm willing to do with my own time and resources. But I digress...
For a Pentecostal girl, the speech and reaction felt very natural. There was the familiar call and response of his saying something that folks agreed with and the applause that erupted. There were those familiar with that process who would verbally "Ummm Hmmmm" in agreement, and then those (mostly white folk) who wanted to respond in some way and without the benefit of such church-training would belt out a "Whoooo!" I don't judge. However you want to affirm, go for it. It was just enjoyable to watch everyone sort that out. He said a few things that made me clap...talking about equity in education, paying teachers what they deserve, NAFTA-bashing, and bringing jobs/labor back to American soil. He said a few things I decidedly did NOT clap for, as I won't disrespect a sitting President/VP for whom I seem to have a great deal more tolerance than most of those present. But again, he's just doing his "job." I was waiting for the Hammond B3 organ to kick in and start the double time special, boom-chick style and for the robed gospel choir to come rolling out of the crowd. (that sentence was primarily for my Pentecostal/black church friends) Not to be stereotypical, but there was that feeling...that feeling of hope and excitement and unity...and imminent singing.
I don't have to agree with him, but I applaud him and his staff members for pulling off something I wasn't sure I'd ever see in my lifetime. Maybe it's especially poignant in this week of Martin Luther King, Jr. day celebrations, having recently seen the "I Have a Dream" footage, and having revisited images of "colored" bathrooms and water fountains...
I have been blessed to have grown up in a world where we have been taught not to judge a man by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character. Sadly, we have many more generations to go before that might be the norm. The sins of our forefathers are still catching up to us in that regard. Hatreds run deep, and forgiveness is slow-growing in pockets of our country. Tensions are still high in 2008, but we're getting there. I enjoyed my moments with the Barack-star today.
1.14.2008
Believing and Doing...
This post is an initial reaction to the last few days...no terribly deep thoughts, just thinkin' aloud. Something that has become more real to us since last week--If you believe it and don't do what "it" requires, do you believe it?
If you worry and fret over everything and believe in an omnipotent God, is there really room for worry? He's either who He says he is, or He's not. If He's not, then we don't believe Him and we are left to our own devices, our own solutions, our own variables. That's a scary place.
I haven't wrestled with this question so much, as I am not one to worry. There's a deep nugget of faith in my soul (not to say I don't have other issues to wrestle with!), so I tend to take God at the face value of who He says He is and what I've seen Him do for me.
But it's so interesting to watch others who are BOUND by worry and fear grasp this simple truth. It is so freeing!! He is God. He made all. He is over all. He is working everything out for our ultimate good, whether it "feels" good during the process or not. He has a plan for me, a plan to prosper and not to harm me, a plan to redeem my soul, a plan to make me more in the likeness of Jesus as I submit to the plan. He loves me. He does everything in my life to propel His plan for the world, and not just for my little life.
When you're IN Him, none of this seems scary. The unknown is just a chance for God to show off. There is nothing to fear, for He is WITH me. And if I believe THAT, I cannot practice worry or verbalize all my little fears. I must remind myself of these truths that I claim to believe. And in the acknowledgement of these truths, worry becomes a mere whisper...fear is sent running. When I practice what I believe, it becomes more real...something tangible to point to further down the road. "Remember when God handled ...?" Yes!!! Because that's what my Father does. How can I have any other response?
If you worry and fret over everything and believe in an omnipotent God, is there really room for worry? He's either who He says he is, or He's not. If He's not, then we don't believe Him and we are left to our own devices, our own solutions, our own variables. That's a scary place.
I haven't wrestled with this question so much, as I am not one to worry. There's a deep nugget of faith in my soul (not to say I don't have other issues to wrestle with!), so I tend to take God at the face value of who He says He is and what I've seen Him do for me.
But it's so interesting to watch others who are BOUND by worry and fear grasp this simple truth. It is so freeing!! He is God. He made all. He is over all. He is working everything out for our ultimate good, whether it "feels" good during the process or not. He has a plan for me, a plan to prosper and not to harm me, a plan to redeem my soul, a plan to make me more in the likeness of Jesus as I submit to the plan. He loves me. He does everything in my life to propel His plan for the world, and not just for my little life.
When you're IN Him, none of this seems scary. The unknown is just a chance for God to show off. There is nothing to fear, for He is WITH me. And if I believe THAT, I cannot practice worry or verbalize all my little fears. I must remind myself of these truths that I claim to believe. And in the acknowledgement of these truths, worry becomes a mere whisper...fear is sent running. When I practice what I believe, it becomes more real...something tangible to point to further down the road. "Remember when God handled ...?" Yes!!! Because that's what my Father does. How can I have any other response?
Happy New Year from our dog
Tink really wanted to be festive, but the late night new year's fun was just too much...and she conked out on the blanket. Happy New zzzzzzz!
Happy New Year from our dog.
Barley is a very tolerant dog. And darn cute in his fine feathered and festive hat. This photo was snapped on New Year's Eve. Who knew that Barley was into holidays so much?
1.10.2008
Um. Yeah. I'm uh, gonna need to reschedule that.
I know that we can't rewind time. Because how many of us would just abuse the HECK out of that? That time when we asked the lady when she was due and she replied that she wasn't pregnant...remember when you tripped and fell on your face in front of a whole class of people...or how about when you cussed in front of your parents in sixth grade and only avoided a mouth pop because of your fine ducking skills? But rewinding time would give people seemingly perfect lives...these kinds of experiences teach us and make us stronger...or better duckers.
But I have a genuine New Year's problem. Here we are on January 10, and I the only resolution I've remotely committed to is my husband's...not to have or live up to any resolutions! So, I'm going to reschedule my New Year's day if it's all the same to everyone. In the hub-bub of unpacking the Christmas suitcases, taking down the tree (and everything else I put out), finding the stuff that I put away to make room for Christmas decor, and celebrating an anniversary, I lost myself.
I am a dyed-in-the-wool resolution-maker. I love it. The clean slate. The free pass to be completely optimistic, to re-think my patterns, to erase my mistakes. Even better than my time-rewind. It's a knowledgeable looking back and gazing forward. It says, "I didn't do it all just right, but here's another opportunity..." To refresh friendships, to send birthday cards out on time, to eat healthfully, to carve out time to exercise, to quit drinking hot chocolate in my coffee (well, let's not go too overboard!)...to pray without ceasing, to soak in God's word (and not just apply it as a bandaid when something is hurt), to be diligent at whatever I am doing.
New Year's Day is my favorite day of the year. I just didn't take the time to do my New Year's rituals this year. My journal sat in a pile of stuff on my desk that I've been meaning to clean off for months. I must have muffled its cry for a resolution list by piling gardening books and sketchbooks on top of it.
I think that tomorrow, January 11, will be my new years's day. It just has an extra "1." I need these. I realize not everyone does, but I do. I take so little time to reflect during a given day...I simply drive and move and shower and clean and cook and eat and breathe and read and pray and brush teeth and sleep and roll over and do it all again.
So, I am going to write my list today, in preparation for tomorrow. I certainly don't have to WAIT for New Year's to do anything. But I like it as a marker in my life, to look back and see the changes I felt I needed to make, to see where my diligence has lapsed, or how I've succeeded. Sadly, I will likely not convince my job that I need a second run at the day with a free day off...
But, list in hand, I will tackle 2008 with a set of objectives and some God-sized help.
Happy New Year!!!!!!!!!!
But I have a genuine New Year's problem. Here we are on January 10, and I the only resolution I've remotely committed to is my husband's...not to have or live up to any resolutions! So, I'm going to reschedule my New Year's day if it's all the same to everyone. In the hub-bub of unpacking the Christmas suitcases, taking down the tree (and everything else I put out), finding the stuff that I put away to make room for Christmas decor, and celebrating an anniversary, I lost myself.
I am a dyed-in-the-wool resolution-maker. I love it. The clean slate. The free pass to be completely optimistic, to re-think my patterns, to erase my mistakes. Even better than my time-rewind. It's a knowledgeable looking back and gazing forward. It says, "I didn't do it all just right, but here's another opportunity..." To refresh friendships, to send birthday cards out on time, to eat healthfully, to carve out time to exercise, to quit drinking hot chocolate in my coffee (well, let's not go too overboard!)...to pray without ceasing, to soak in God's word (and not just apply it as a bandaid when something is hurt), to be diligent at whatever I am doing.
New Year's Day is my favorite day of the year. I just didn't take the time to do my New Year's rituals this year. My journal sat in a pile of stuff on my desk that I've been meaning to clean off for months. I must have muffled its cry for a resolution list by piling gardening books and sketchbooks on top of it.
I think that tomorrow, January 11, will be my new years's day. It just has an extra "1." I need these. I realize not everyone does, but I do. I take so little time to reflect during a given day...I simply drive and move and shower and clean and cook and eat and breathe and read and pray and brush teeth and sleep and roll over and do it all again.
So, I am going to write my list today, in preparation for tomorrow. I certainly don't have to WAIT for New Year's to do anything. But I like it as a marker in my life, to look back and see the changes I felt I needed to make, to see where my diligence has lapsed, or how I've succeeded. Sadly, I will likely not convince my job that I need a second run at the day with a free day off...
But, list in hand, I will tackle 2008 with a set of objectives and some God-sized help.
Happy New Year!!!!!!!!!!
1.03.2008
LOST LOST LOST LOST LOST LOST LOST
I just needed to share with the wide world my true inner geek. Not that it's much of a secret from those of you who know me...
But Jerod and I have entered a new level of geek. We are so excited about the return of LOST in a few weeks, that we ran out and rented the last three episodes of last season and the bonus DVD. Mind you, we've seen those episodes, but it had been so long that we felt the need to re-watch. If you're a "Lostie," you'll understand how easy it is to forget all the clues and connections.
And so, on our last full day of Christmas break yesterday, we spent about 5-6 hours watching the episodes, rewinding to see tiny clues, watching ALL of the bonus footage, including the hidden stuff...and threw the bonus DVD back in at lunch today to make sure we didn't miss anything.
LOST is the masterpiece of our time, I tell you.
In defense of our illustrious and collosal waste of precious free time, Jerod was under the weather, and I couldn't bear organizing anything else. It was fantastic. In another defense of our geekdom...LOST is really more like a mini-series/novel in its unfolding, so you really do need to "re-read" to enjoy it thoroughly.
Ahhh. Lost.
May the writer's strike end before too long!!!!!!!!!!!! I will certainly be a crying mess if those darned writers interfere with my sweet show.
But Jerod and I have entered a new level of geek. We are so excited about the return of LOST in a few weeks, that we ran out and rented the last three episodes of last season and the bonus DVD. Mind you, we've seen those episodes, but it had been so long that we felt the need to re-watch. If you're a "Lostie," you'll understand how easy it is to forget all the clues and connections.
And so, on our last full day of Christmas break yesterday, we spent about 5-6 hours watching the episodes, rewinding to see tiny clues, watching ALL of the bonus footage, including the hidden stuff...and threw the bonus DVD back in at lunch today to make sure we didn't miss anything.
LOST is the masterpiece of our time, I tell you.
In defense of our illustrious and collosal waste of precious free time, Jerod was under the weather, and I couldn't bear organizing anything else. It was fantastic. In another defense of our geekdom...LOST is really more like a mini-series/novel in its unfolding, so you really do need to "re-read" to enjoy it thoroughly.
Ahhh. Lost.
May the writer's strike end before too long!!!!!!!!!!!! I will certainly be a crying mess if those darned writers interfere with my sweet show.
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