I recently have been visiting a food blog entitled Pioneer Woman. I love her because she loves butter. People who love butter, even if they are creepy, unkempt, or murderers of 21 year old women, are a-okay in my book. At least until they pull out a weapon. One of the phrases this fine butter lady uses for exclamation and happiness is "ugh." I find this hilarious and super duper entertaining, because I usually associate "ugh" with frustration.
Ugh! So much new music lately. I'm pretty much on a musical overload right now. Blaine took it upon himself to be my musical educator. I, at one point in my life, thought I had pretty fantastic musical taste. But apparently I was wrong. Or actually, I wasn't wrong, I was just not as far along as some people would have hoped. Some people meaning Blaine. Punk. Blaine has dumped about a million new songs onto my computer. Every week or so we'll start talking about music this or band that or blah blah blah and he'll ask me a series of rapid-fire questions that go as follows:
Blaine: Have you listened to the Editors yet? Me: Not yet.
Blaine: Have you listened to Yeasayer yet? Me: I listened to a couple of songs but then got distracted.
Blaine: Have you listened to Kasabian yet? Me: No. Blaine: [disappointed face]
Blaine: Have you listened to MEW at all? Me: A little, the first few songs or so. Blaine: You have to listen to MEW. I want you to like them.
Thank you sir, but my brain can only handle so much in so little time. I have listened to so much of his music in fact, that I have forgotten that there is other music I used to listen to that I very much enjoyed. All those beautiful, fond-memory inducing songs are sitting in my iTunes library all dusty and sad. I don't know when I'll have time to listen to them again.
Not that all this new music is simply a horrible experience. It's not, there is actually a lot of it that I've fallen in love with. When I get tired of exposing my poor self to new music that doesn't make sense to me yet I will grab my iPod (Music Midget) glance around to make sure no one is looking, and scroll to the artist and songs that I really enjoy. These artists I have learned to enjoy. Sometimes their songs get stuck in my head.
The problem with new music is not that it is new. Sometimes new music isn't welcome simply because it is a change to the usual. There are days when change is acceptable and days when it is not. On No Change Days we just simply cannot listen to new music and feel good about ourselves (that's a royal we by the way). Some days scream sappy old country songs that bring back my childhood. Other days call for some of my sweet high school tunes. In those days I wasn't adventurous enough to actually delve into interesting music, but I did feel rebellious when I listened to non-Christian music (heaven forbid!). That rebellion, even if it shouldn't have, felt so good.
But on some days change is good, welcome even. Those days need new music. Maybe a new album from a beloved artist (although that may not sit well at first. New albums are almost like hearing completely different artists, because usually the sound is different. This always happens to me when I listen to new albums by Death Cab for Cutie. I hate the new music at first, then grow to adore it.). Perhaps a completely new artist. But it's usually on a small scale. And there's a reason for this--at least for me.
You see learning to love new music is like learning to sing a new song. The first step you take is to simply listen to the song. When I first listen to song I don't listen to the lyrics. I can only sit down and take the song in as a whole: singer's voice, instruments used, beat, etc. After this first listen--during which I usually judge the song by its cover--I have to hear it again. Usually the lyrics will pop out to me more this time around, although usually only in snippets. It takes me a while to memorize whole songs quickly. My old roommate Molly could do this and it used to drive me crazy. I don't understand how people memorize song lyrics so quickly. It takes me a while. When I was a kid I didn't understand much of anything I listened to because I never learned all the lyrics. There are a lot of songs that I listen to now that I'm older and I'm shocked at what they're about. (This happens to me with Disney movies too.) If I listen to a song enough times I can usually grow to appreciate it. I usually don't grow to love songs over long periods of time (although this has been known to happen). What usually happens is that during the "judge the song by its cover" stage I'll decide if I absolutely love a song or just think it's okay. If I love the song first off then I will adore it for a really long time. If it is only a like-r then it may take a while to sink in and become something I really like. Radiohead is a good example of a band that took me a while to like. I had to listen to OK Computer for weeks before I decided that I could listen to it on my own without being prompted by someone else. I haven't braved their other albums yet. I'm afraid of what I might find--and of how long it will take me to like what I find. On the other hand, the first time I listened to The Bird and the Bee I loved it immediately and wouldn't stop listening to it for at least a week.
Isn't this super in depth look into my musical taste fun?! Yeah!
One of the most interesting things to me about music is how two different people react to the same artist. And I'm not necessarily interested in the fact that one person likes this artist and the other person hates that artist. What's interesting is when two people like the same artist but gravitate toward different songs. This happened to me and my brother when I was little. He used to drive me around everwhere when I was younger. The bands we most often listened to were Five Iron Frenzy and the O.C. Supertones, my favorite and his favorite, respectively, although both bands were keepers. We'd listen to the Supertones and he'd say "I love this song" and I'd think "Can we fast forward through this one?" (We were at the tail-end of the cassette tape generation. That and his truck didn't have a CD player yet). After that another song would come on that I would adore and he would be apathetic about. I can never understand this. My musical taste was genius, why didn't he agree?
I've encountered this same conundrum with Blaine and I find it hilarious. I've grown to like most of what he has given me. His music isn't bad, a lot of it is amazingly good. I just don't LOVE all of it. There are a lot of keepers for me, but there are just as many albums, artists and songs that I say "eh......" to. Blaine always absolutely, 100% loves and endorses all this music. He knows that I like most of it, but I don't know yet if he's disappointed that I don't love more of it. I have a theory as to why we don't always see eye to eye on music and it involves my big confession. I love, love, love, LOVE poppy music. Always have and always will. I'm not a big fan of ambient music because it makes me fall asleep when I drive and when I drive is pretty much the only time I have to listen to music uninterrupted. So I've grown to be very fond to peppy, hook-y music that keeps me awake. I don't know if he's really figured this out yet. I've told him, but this hasn't narrowed his giving at all. I suppose my preferences don't really need to. Any new album or artist is a new experience after all. And, if I really think about it, I have come to really love some more ambient, mellow music. I just have to listen to it at home when I'm getting ready for bed.
There is another difference in our musical tastes that I also find amusing. Let me use a real-world analogy to make sense of it:
It is 1950. Blaine is the United States. I am Russia. Blaine's music is cutting edge and modern and fancy. My music is old-school, folky and traditional.
Now the analogy breaks down here because in my version of the story America goes to Russia and dumps all of its cutting edge music into the countryside. It's a revolution! But it's also too much at once. Russia can't listen to it all! Russia can't get that modern that quickly! It's too hard! Whine, whine, whine.
And that's what I do with Blaine. I whine. He dumps more music into my library. I whine. He asks me if I've listened to it all in a week. I whine. He plays something in his car that I really like. I ask him who it is. He tells me. I can't find the song on my iPod. I whine.
But despite all my whining and teasing of Blaine's exuberant giving, I'm actually enjoying myself. I feel so cultured and cutting edge. I'm on top of the musical game--sort of--and my horizons are so broad! Win.
Holy cow it's 12:41am. What am I doing? I have to work in the morning. Yikes. Goodnight.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
The Way Out of a Comprimising Situation
Today I had the great fortune of completing a "virtual exploration" for my Sociology class. This class is about demographics, but the definition of demographics (which would usually render it a harmless subject as far as social issues goes) does not stop us from delving into an exploration that exposes us students to the finer details of social issues. This virtual exploration happened to be focused on the family institution and how the definition of the family has changed over the years. You can imagine that this was a fairly stimulation exploration into the minds of all sorts of different thinkers.
What I particularly like about these virtual explorations is that they present a variety of viewpoints on various subjects. This is all in the interest of being unbiased, which I have found, in my limited experience, to be easier said than done. For this assignment we had to explore the Partners Task Force website and read the "Legal Marriage Primer" (http://www.buddybuddy.com/mar-prim.html) which is apparently what you should read if you never read anything else about legal marriage. Fair enough. If you have time read this primer, it's actually quite interesting.
The biggest argument the Legal Marriage Primer makes is that marriage can be separated into two categories: legal marriage and religious marriage. The federal government requires married couples to sign a marriage license, but they don't necessarily have to have a member of the clergy present to do this, and they certainly don't have to have a religious ceremony to seal the deal. The marriage license is a purely legal document that allows married couples access to certain benefits that non-married couples do not have (see the website for a list). Proponents of same-sex marriage want more than just domestic partnerships, which they say does not give them the full benefits that a legal marriage does. They want legal marriages. Not religious marriages. Legal marriages. (At least, the creators and supporters of this particular website only want legal marriages. Others may want both).
The part of me that has studied the Constitution and knows a ridiculous amount of political theory says why not? Why shouldn't legal benefits be granted to same-sex couples? The Primer makes a compelling argument for legal marriages of same-sex couples. Part of me agrees that denying a couple marriage rights based purely on religious definitions of marriage is against the idea of equal rights for all--even if you don't personally agree.
And you may disagree with me. You may say "Oh silly Alise, the current definition of marriage being only between a man and a woman is not purely religious." Is it? Honestly, I don't know all the history behind this so you could possibly be right. But if we were to discuss this issue only within the realms of current American law, the definition of marriage cannot be defined by a religious institution. Why not? Because the 1st Amendment bans this possibility. No religious institution can determine the definition of any legal process in this country according to the Constitution. I'm not saying that this hasn't been done in the past. What I'm saying is that if an argument to keep marriage between a man and a woman were to go the Supreme Court today, it would probably be denied based on the fact that the Constitution disallows any legal process or institution to be based on purely religious definitions. This is for the protection of both the secular state and the various religious institutions in the country.
Same-sex marriage is hotly contested, and for good reason. The United States has large numbers of religious people who desperately want to protect the religious definition of marriage as well as large numbers of people who think that this definition is outdated and should be expanded to deferentiate between religious and legal marriages--allowing legal marriages to exist even if a religious organization would not condone that particular marriage.
I don't know what to do or think about this.
And part of my dilemma is that I don't know if it is possible for me to compromise on this situation.
What does it mean to compromise anyway? Being a very astute English major, when faced with this question I pulled out my trusty OED (Oxford English Dictionary for all you non-wordphiles out there) and looked up the word compromise. The first three definitions all center around settling a disbute with an arbitrator or by mutual concession. The fourth definition gives us our more modern understanding of the word:
The finding of an intermediate way between conflicting requirements, courses of action, etc., by modification of each; a thing that results from or embodies such an arragement.
And the fifth definition is different:
A putting in peril; an exposure to risk. (This is referring to something like "a compromising situation, or having been compromised)
So....my question, which will use both the fourth and fifth definitions of compromise, is this: Is it possible to compromise on this same-sex marriage issue without compromising what I believe as a follower of Christ?
In a Christian theocratic state, where laws are based on the doctrines of the Bible, compromise would not even be an issue. If we were staying true to the words of the Bible, same-sex marriages would simply not be permitted.
In a purely secular state that does not allow ANY religious influence, in a state that oppresses faith-based organizations, again, compromise would not even be an issue. Legal marriages would be simply that: legal. There would be no need for a religious definition for marriage. Marrige could be whatever the state wanted it to be.
We live in a combination of both those states. Our government is secular. I'm sorry guys, that's just the way it is. America is not a theocracy, nor will it ever be (and to be honest, a human-run Christian theocracy scares me to no end). Our government has been influenced, and is being influenced, by religious ideas and definitions, but if push came to shove, the government would in no way be obligated to form policy and laws around the framework of any kind of religious ideal. That's just not how our Constitution works. It's a good thing too, theocratic countries are not terribly stable places to live. However, even though our government is secular, there are still huge amounts of Americans who live according to morals and ideas that stem from many different religions, primarily Christianity. Because America is a semi-democracy, our senators and representatives are supposed to take our belief systems into account when they make laws (this is, of course, highly idealized). Then, and this is key, but seems to be forgotten, majority rules. At least, the majority is supposed to rule. But, obviously, when the majority does rule, the minority gets oppressed. Which isn't fair. Wah. (:D Sorry, I couldn't repress my sarcasm there) So in order to make things better for everyone, the majority can be nice and offer to compromise a little with the minority. And the minority, since they are the minority, should probably accept the compromise and quite whining a bit. The fact is, life isn't fair, and our governments certainly do not have the tools, talents, or abilities to make life fair. We do the best we can, and that's all we can really ask for.
So. Compromise between conservatives who are afraid of the changing in the definition of marriage and others who just want to be legally married. Is it possible?
Why not? Would it really be terribly compromising (fifth definition) to allow same-sex couples legal marriages?
As Christians, I think we would have fair amount of room to cry foul if same-sex couples were trying to obtain religious marriages along with legal marriages. Certainly we should not allow any happenings to go on in our places of worship that go against our faith. But as far as legal marriages are concerned--I would controversially say that we have no right to put our hands into that process. There is a reason the church and the state are separated, and it if for issues like this.
We have no right to demand that every person, believer or unbeliever, should conform the to the Biblical definition of marriage. Same-sex couples have no right to demand that they be allowed religious marriages when their lifestyle so clearly is against Biblical teaching. Legal marriages, on the other hand, are an entirely different matter.
I think that this is a situation that would allow for compromise without compromising what I believe.
Okay! Now it's time to discuss all of this! Go!
What I particularly like about these virtual explorations is that they present a variety of viewpoints on various subjects. This is all in the interest of being unbiased, which I have found, in my limited experience, to be easier said than done. For this assignment we had to explore the Partners Task Force website and read the "Legal Marriage Primer" (http://www.buddybuddy.com/mar-prim.html) which is apparently what you should read if you never read anything else about legal marriage. Fair enough. If you have time read this primer, it's actually quite interesting.
The biggest argument the Legal Marriage Primer makes is that marriage can be separated into two categories: legal marriage and religious marriage. The federal government requires married couples to sign a marriage license, but they don't necessarily have to have a member of the clergy present to do this, and they certainly don't have to have a religious ceremony to seal the deal. The marriage license is a purely legal document that allows married couples access to certain benefits that non-married couples do not have (see the website for a list). Proponents of same-sex marriage want more than just domestic partnerships, which they say does not give them the full benefits that a legal marriage does. They want legal marriages. Not religious marriages. Legal marriages. (At least, the creators and supporters of this particular website only want legal marriages. Others may want both).
The part of me that has studied the Constitution and knows a ridiculous amount of political theory says why not? Why shouldn't legal benefits be granted to same-sex couples? The Primer makes a compelling argument for legal marriages of same-sex couples. Part of me agrees that denying a couple marriage rights based purely on religious definitions of marriage is against the idea of equal rights for all--even if you don't personally agree.
And you may disagree with me. You may say "Oh silly Alise, the current definition of marriage being only between a man and a woman is not purely religious." Is it? Honestly, I don't know all the history behind this so you could possibly be right. But if we were to discuss this issue only within the realms of current American law, the definition of marriage cannot be defined by a religious institution. Why not? Because the 1st Amendment bans this possibility. No religious institution can determine the definition of any legal process in this country according to the Constitution. I'm not saying that this hasn't been done in the past. What I'm saying is that if an argument to keep marriage between a man and a woman were to go the Supreme Court today, it would probably be denied based on the fact that the Constitution disallows any legal process or institution to be based on purely religious definitions. This is for the protection of both the secular state and the various religious institutions in the country.
Same-sex marriage is hotly contested, and for good reason. The United States has large numbers of religious people who desperately want to protect the religious definition of marriage as well as large numbers of people who think that this definition is outdated and should be expanded to deferentiate between religious and legal marriages--allowing legal marriages to exist even if a religious organization would not condone that particular marriage.
I don't know what to do or think about this.
And part of my dilemma is that I don't know if it is possible for me to compromise on this situation.
What does it mean to compromise anyway? Being a very astute English major, when faced with this question I pulled out my trusty OED (Oxford English Dictionary for all you non-wordphiles out there) and looked up the word compromise. The first three definitions all center around settling a disbute with an arbitrator or by mutual concession. The fourth definition gives us our more modern understanding of the word:
The finding of an intermediate way between conflicting requirements, courses of action, etc., by modification of each; a thing that results from or embodies such an arragement.
And the fifth definition is different:
A putting in peril; an exposure to risk. (This is referring to something like "a compromising situation, or having been compromised)
So....my question, which will use both the fourth and fifth definitions of compromise, is this: Is it possible to compromise on this same-sex marriage issue without compromising what I believe as a follower of Christ?
In a Christian theocratic state, where laws are based on the doctrines of the Bible, compromise would not even be an issue. If we were staying true to the words of the Bible, same-sex marriages would simply not be permitted.
In a purely secular state that does not allow ANY religious influence, in a state that oppresses faith-based organizations, again, compromise would not even be an issue. Legal marriages would be simply that: legal. There would be no need for a religious definition for marriage. Marrige could be whatever the state wanted it to be.
We live in a combination of both those states. Our government is secular. I'm sorry guys, that's just the way it is. America is not a theocracy, nor will it ever be (and to be honest, a human-run Christian theocracy scares me to no end). Our government has been influenced, and is being influenced, by religious ideas and definitions, but if push came to shove, the government would in no way be obligated to form policy and laws around the framework of any kind of religious ideal. That's just not how our Constitution works. It's a good thing too, theocratic countries are not terribly stable places to live. However, even though our government is secular, there are still huge amounts of Americans who live according to morals and ideas that stem from many different religions, primarily Christianity. Because America is a semi-democracy, our senators and representatives are supposed to take our belief systems into account when they make laws (this is, of course, highly idealized). Then, and this is key, but seems to be forgotten, majority rules. At least, the majority is supposed to rule. But, obviously, when the majority does rule, the minority gets oppressed. Which isn't fair. Wah. (:D Sorry, I couldn't repress my sarcasm there) So in order to make things better for everyone, the majority can be nice and offer to compromise a little with the minority. And the minority, since they are the minority, should probably accept the compromise and quite whining a bit. The fact is, life isn't fair, and our governments certainly do not have the tools, talents, or abilities to make life fair. We do the best we can, and that's all we can really ask for.
So. Compromise between conservatives who are afraid of the changing in the definition of marriage and others who just want to be legally married. Is it possible?
Why not? Would it really be terribly compromising (fifth definition) to allow same-sex couples legal marriages?
As Christians, I think we would have fair amount of room to cry foul if same-sex couples were trying to obtain religious marriages along with legal marriages. Certainly we should not allow any happenings to go on in our places of worship that go against our faith. But as far as legal marriages are concerned--I would controversially say that we have no right to put our hands into that process. There is a reason the church and the state are separated, and it if for issues like this.
We have no right to demand that every person, believer or unbeliever, should conform the to the Biblical definition of marriage. Same-sex couples have no right to demand that they be allowed religious marriages when their lifestyle so clearly is against Biblical teaching. Legal marriages, on the other hand, are an entirely different matter.
I think that this is a situation that would allow for compromise without compromising what I believe.
Okay! Now it's time to discuss all of this! Go!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
The Coin Flip Tournament
When I was at CBU I took at a New Testament survey class. My professor really opened my eyes to, well, God. This sounds very ridiculous considering my pastor's kid upbringing and the various pride-filled stunts that I pulled at church the show everyone just how spiritual I was. I was a liar for most of my childhood and adolescence, but that's hardly worth talking about right now. One of things that I learned in my New Testament survey class (besides all the life-changing Biblical connections that were made that I had never before seen) was that casting lots can actually be a way of discerning what God's will is for you. The first time my professor talked about this I thought he was absolutely crazy. But really, the thought just terrified me. What if you knew exactly what God wanted you to do? Some people might think that would be the most awesome occurance ever, but I beg to differ. Why? Because I know that if God explicitly reveals His will for me, I HAVE to do it. I have no choice. There's no wiggling out of it by making excuses or pretending that I didn't get the message straight. I'm obligated. Obligation makes me nervous.
But more than making me nervous (and despite making me nervous), casting lots to decide God's will really excited me. And since then I have always wanted to try it.
-------------
Last week I came to my senses and realized that my heart had been dull, dead, and numb for more than a few months. And since God has graciously given me the kind of friends who will kick my butt into shape--free of charge might I add--I felt super motivated to do something about my spiritual lameness. So I buckled down, went to a Christian bookstore and stood nervously in front of the "Bible Study" section. What to choose, what to choose. They all looked so good. Actually, that's not true. Some of them looked good, others looked fairly interesting, while a few looked truly terrifying and difficult.
I have to be honest here. I usually judge books by their covers. I confess to it, but I don't repent. The book that I ended up with was actually on the bottom of my "to choose" list because it had an exceptionally boring and ugly cover. And the title made me a little nervous. More on that later...
Anyway, I looked at all the books and read their back covers. Then I prayed, a little half-heartedly, that God would show me the book He wanted me to use, the study that would guide me through His scriptures because I have such trouble doing it on my own. As soon as I prayed this I thought, "I might as well just flip a coin" and as soon as I thought this I got super nervous and giddy.
So I did.
I lined up all the books on the floor and eliminated potential studies tournament style. Heads was the keeper and would go on to the next round. Finally I got to the last two. One was on being seduced into sin and the other was about spiritual gifts. I was rooting for spiritual gifts as it seemed safe--a fun read or something along those lines. I flipped the coin and it landed on top of the seduction book. Tails! Spiritual gifts it is-----
And then the coin fell off the book and onto the ground heads side up.
Seduction and sin.
I thought to myself, "What do I do now? Was that a fluke? Which one should I go with?"
So like an idiot, of course, I decided that I would flip the coin again. Here's where you think it's going to land on heads and I'm proved wrong, it wasn't a fluke, I should go with the seduction book, etc. But you'd be wrong, it landed on tails and I was thoroughly confused. But instead of trying again and freaking myself out, I decided that God is powerful enough and smart enough to know what's good for me the first time He makes a decision and I went with the scary seduction and sin book. It's called When Godly People Do Ungodly Things. It's about how Satan seduces godly people into sin through deception and seduction.
Which, it turns out, is freaky stuff--and I'm only four days into it. (As if we didn't know this already)
But it's exactly what I needed to hear and has pointed me to the most wonderful and instructive verses. As if God didn't know that already.
So, hopefully, there will be more to come about Satan and his wiles. My eyes have already been blasted wide open with just four short days, I can't imagine how much more God is going to teach me about our enemy who is ridiculously good at deceiving us....so good that we forget he's there. Oooh that makes me shiver. Let's all thank and praise God that He is way more power and in control than Satan ever will be!
But more than making me nervous (and despite making me nervous), casting lots to decide God's will really excited me. And since then I have always wanted to try it.
-------------
Last week I came to my senses and realized that my heart had been dull, dead, and numb for more than a few months. And since God has graciously given me the kind of friends who will kick my butt into shape--free of charge might I add--I felt super motivated to do something about my spiritual lameness. So I buckled down, went to a Christian bookstore and stood nervously in front of the "Bible Study" section. What to choose, what to choose. They all looked so good. Actually, that's not true. Some of them looked good, others looked fairly interesting, while a few looked truly terrifying and difficult.
I have to be honest here. I usually judge books by their covers. I confess to it, but I don't repent. The book that I ended up with was actually on the bottom of my "to choose" list because it had an exceptionally boring and ugly cover. And the title made me a little nervous. More on that later...
Anyway, I looked at all the books and read their back covers. Then I prayed, a little half-heartedly, that God would show me the book He wanted me to use, the study that would guide me through His scriptures because I have such trouble doing it on my own. As soon as I prayed this I thought, "I might as well just flip a coin" and as soon as I thought this I got super nervous and giddy.
So I did.
I lined up all the books on the floor and eliminated potential studies tournament style. Heads was the keeper and would go on to the next round. Finally I got to the last two. One was on being seduced into sin and the other was about spiritual gifts. I was rooting for spiritual gifts as it seemed safe--a fun read or something along those lines. I flipped the coin and it landed on top of the seduction book. Tails! Spiritual gifts it is-----
And then the coin fell off the book and onto the ground heads side up.
Seduction and sin.
I thought to myself, "What do I do now? Was that a fluke? Which one should I go with?"
So like an idiot, of course, I decided that I would flip the coin again. Here's where you think it's going to land on heads and I'm proved wrong, it wasn't a fluke, I should go with the seduction book, etc. But you'd be wrong, it landed on tails and I was thoroughly confused. But instead of trying again and freaking myself out, I decided that God is powerful enough and smart enough to know what's good for me the first time He makes a decision and I went with the scary seduction and sin book. It's called When Godly People Do Ungodly Things. It's about how Satan seduces godly people into sin through deception and seduction.
Which, it turns out, is freaky stuff--and I'm only four days into it. (As if we didn't know this already)
But it's exactly what I needed to hear and has pointed me to the most wonderful and instructive verses. As if God didn't know that already.
So, hopefully, there will be more to come about Satan and his wiles. My eyes have already been blasted wide open with just four short days, I can't imagine how much more God is going to teach me about our enemy who is ridiculously good at deceiving us....so good that we forget he's there. Oooh that makes me shiver. Let's all thank and praise God that He is way more power and in control than Satan ever will be!
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
This is the End of Summer
I wasn't sure when school would start to feel like school again, but it happened today. Last week I read my demography book for my (sweet) online class and decided that I would wait a few days to finish the reading response that is due today (Wednesday). As usual with procrastination it is now Wednesday and I still have not completed my assignment. This assignment may be the easiest assignment I've had since my general ed classes at CBU. Here is the question I have to answer: Give two examples of ways in which demography is related to things that can be “ripped from the headlines.”
Sounds simple, right? Sounds like I should be able to whip out a response to 15 seconds, right? Sounds like I could write the answer in my sleep without even reading my demography book, right?
Wrong. Here's why:
I haven't written anything that was supposed to sound intelligent since May. That was three and a half months ago. I feel incredibly dumb. And that is also why I am writing this ridiculous note...because I need to get in the groove, the writing groove, the back-to-school groove.
I always forget what a bummer it is to write intelligently. Over the summer my vocabulary has decreased by about 10% (which may or may not be a random percentage). When I sat down to write the reading response I couldn't think of the specific words that I needed to use to describe any given situation. Stuff, things, something, were all running through my head.
I'm so screwed. This assignment is going to be really really ridiculously badly written (go adverbs!). But that is the way the world turns I suppose. Hopefully the next assignment will progress much better than this first one. Perhaps next time I'll sound more like a college student and less like a fourth grader.
Sounds simple, right? Sounds like I should be able to whip out a response to 15 seconds, right? Sounds like I could write the answer in my sleep without even reading my demography book, right?
Wrong. Here's why:
I haven't written anything that was supposed to sound intelligent since May. That was three and a half months ago. I feel incredibly dumb. And that is also why I am writing this ridiculous note...because I need to get in the groove, the writing groove, the back-to-school groove.
I always forget what a bummer it is to write intelligently. Over the summer my vocabulary has decreased by about 10% (which may or may not be a random percentage). When I sat down to write the reading response I couldn't think of the specific words that I needed to use to describe any given situation. Stuff, things, something, were all running through my head.
I'm so screwed. This assignment is going to be really really ridiculously badly written (go adverbs!). But that is the way the world turns I suppose. Hopefully the next assignment will progress much better than this first one. Perhaps next time I'll sound more like a college student and less like a fourth grader.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Older, Wiser, Less Inept
Tomorrow I will have the very strange, yet exciting, opportunity to teach the older, retired ladies class at my church. I've been ignoring the lesson all week, because lately I've been feeling very distant from God and I didn't know how I was ever going to pull off teaching these extremely wise and wonderful women. But today being Saturday, the day before Sunday, I hunkered down and pulled out the lesson book and my Bible, hoping that God would be kind to me and make all of this very easy.
The result? Well, He certainly has been kind to me, but this lesson is not easy. The title is Will You Remain Faithful. According to the book, this lesson can impact your life by teaching you how to "commit to follow God's will even when it is difficult, and discover resources that strengthen you as you follow His will in difficult circumstances."
They weren't lying. I only wanted to share a couple of things from the lesson that really got me thinking.
The first part of the book talks about Jesus praying right before he is led away to be crucified. He goes back to God again and again saying the same thing: If there's any way you can do it Father, please take this cup away from me. Yet not as I will, but as You will. I'm so blown away that I've never noticed that Jesus knew exactly what God's will was, but he still struggled with it, so much so that he was sweating blood. Yikes. I think I usually deify Jesus to the point where I forget he was ever human at all.
One of the hardest parts of following God is trying to figure out what the heck he wants me to do in the first place. But more difficult than that is knowing exactly what God wants you to do and wanting very very much to NOT have to follow through. There are various reasons for this: the results of following his will are difficult to deal with and might even by painful, his will just doesn't seem as much fun as other options, etc. What is better? Obedience with difficulty, or disobedience with consequences? Of course, the correct answer is obvious, obedience with difficulty! Hooray! Good church kid answer. Well done. But why? Why is that better? Sometimes disobedience to God doesn't come with immediate consequences, when obedience sometimes, and usually, brings difficulties along with it that are scary and seemingly unpleasant. The reason obedience with difficulty is better than disobedience is because when I willingly follow God's plan, even if it's into the deepest pits of the earth, I can benefit from God's infinite knowledge and resources.
One of the points that this lesson brings up is that difficulty in following God isn't anything new and we definitely shouldn't be surprised by it. I love this verse in 1 Peter: "Dear friends, when the fiery ordeal arises among you to test you, don't be surprised by it, as if something unusual were happening to you." It makes me laugh because I'm always surprised when following God is hard. Oh crap, I think, what a strange situation I'm in. Dear God, shouldn't life with you be easy? I mean, you are God and everything. :D There is a funny thing about following God's will though. Even if it sucks, it is so comforting to know that I'm doing what I should be doing....and it doesn't hurt that I'm stacking up rewards in heaven either. (God knows us so well. He knows we wont love Him and other people just because, so he gives us an incentive.)
So anyway, this lesson rocked. And at the end there was a little list, Five Principles for Dealing with Trials. I love lists. And this one is especially good. And since I'm so nice I will share it with you. Here goes:
Five Principles for Dealing with Trials as found in 1 Peter
1. Anchor your hope in God by faith (1:1-5)
2. Accept trials as God's way of preparing you for eternity (1:6-12; 4:12-19).
3. Authenticate your relationship to God by holy living (1:13-2:12)
4. Appropriate Jesus' attitude of humble submission to others as God's will toward government (2:13-17), business (2:18-25), family (3:1-7), church (3:8-13, 4:7-11, 5:1-7), and society (3,14:4:6).
5. Affirm your absolute confidence in God (5:8-11)
(Did you notice that all five of those start with an "a" word? Pretty clever, huh?)
There it is! The lesson that kicked my butt and that I will be teaching to older, wiser, less inept women. I'm really expecting them to whip me into shape....in a loving way of course. I'd be quite disappointed if they didn't.
The result? Well, He certainly has been kind to me, but this lesson is not easy. The title is Will You Remain Faithful. According to the book, this lesson can impact your life by teaching you how to "commit to follow God's will even when it is difficult, and discover resources that strengthen you as you follow His will in difficult circumstances."
They weren't lying. I only wanted to share a couple of things from the lesson that really got me thinking.
The first part of the book talks about Jesus praying right before he is led away to be crucified. He goes back to God again and again saying the same thing: If there's any way you can do it Father, please take this cup away from me. Yet not as I will, but as You will. I'm so blown away that I've never noticed that Jesus knew exactly what God's will was, but he still struggled with it, so much so that he was sweating blood. Yikes. I think I usually deify Jesus to the point where I forget he was ever human at all.
One of the hardest parts of following God is trying to figure out what the heck he wants me to do in the first place. But more difficult than that is knowing exactly what God wants you to do and wanting very very much to NOT have to follow through. There are various reasons for this: the results of following his will are difficult to deal with and might even by painful, his will just doesn't seem as much fun as other options, etc. What is better? Obedience with difficulty, or disobedience with consequences? Of course, the correct answer is obvious, obedience with difficulty! Hooray! Good church kid answer. Well done. But why? Why is that better? Sometimes disobedience to God doesn't come with immediate consequences, when obedience sometimes, and usually, brings difficulties along with it that are scary and seemingly unpleasant. The reason obedience with difficulty is better than disobedience is because when I willingly follow God's plan, even if it's into the deepest pits of the earth, I can benefit from God's infinite knowledge and resources.
One of the points that this lesson brings up is that difficulty in following God isn't anything new and we definitely shouldn't be surprised by it. I love this verse in 1 Peter: "Dear friends, when the fiery ordeal arises among you to test you, don't be surprised by it, as if something unusual were happening to you." It makes me laugh because I'm always surprised when following God is hard. Oh crap, I think, what a strange situation I'm in. Dear God, shouldn't life with you be easy? I mean, you are God and everything. :D There is a funny thing about following God's will though. Even if it sucks, it is so comforting to know that I'm doing what I should be doing....and it doesn't hurt that I'm stacking up rewards in heaven either. (God knows us so well. He knows we wont love Him and other people just because, so he gives us an incentive.)
So anyway, this lesson rocked. And at the end there was a little list, Five Principles for Dealing with Trials. I love lists. And this one is especially good. And since I'm so nice I will share it with you. Here goes:
Five Principles for Dealing with Trials as found in 1 Peter
1. Anchor your hope in God by faith (1:1-5)
2. Accept trials as God's way of preparing you for eternity (1:6-12; 4:12-19).
3. Authenticate your relationship to God by holy living (1:13-2:12)
4. Appropriate Jesus' attitude of humble submission to others as God's will toward government (2:13-17), business (2:18-25), family (3:1-7), church (3:8-13, 4:7-11, 5:1-7), and society (3,14:4:6).
5. Affirm your absolute confidence in God (5:8-11)
(Did you notice that all five of those start with an "a" word? Pretty clever, huh?)
There it is! The lesson that kicked my butt and that I will be teaching to older, wiser, less inept women. I'm really expecting them to whip me into shape....in a loving way of course. I'd be quite disappointed if they didn't.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
The Way To Go
Well hello there. I've been at my sister's for almost two weeks now. This is the perfect amount of time for a vacation; just long enough for one to experience all the different parts of the vacation and get homesick at the end of the second week. Being away for only one week doesn't really do it for me. In order to really miss my friend and family, I need at least two weeks. Get's the missing juices flowing.
I can't seem to spit out what I really want to say.
I would really like to be sure of what is most important. One of the problems I have with this, however, is that narrowing down what in life is most important is possibly the biggest task anyone could undertake. Today my sister and her husband invited a friend over to have dinner with us. He is getting a doctorate in Eastern religions, particularly Japanese religions. We asked him how he got into all of that. He said that when he was living in Japan he would talk to people about their beliefs and their religion and they would tell him that they didn't consider themselves religious people, they just followed the traditions of Buddhism because those actions were just that: traditions. He said he wanted to know why, and that he hadn't figured out the answer yet.
This insight into the spiritual lives of the Japanese led us to a conversation about religion (for clarity reasons I'm going to refer to religion as just the actions and traditions of a belief system, not the belief itself) and belief and how there are a lot of people who will practice a religion but not believe in what it values or says. My brother-in-law gave examples of a Jewish friend he has who is an atheist in belief, but practices Jewish customs and traditions.
At first I was blown away by this and thought to myself, well that's just stupid. If you don't believe in something, why would you go through the motions. But then I realized, people do just that all the time. Not just people in Japan or in American, but everywhere. Religion to a lot of people is just a cultural practice, something they do to be accepted into their society, something that shows they have the same set of values as the rest of their community. Naturally there is a group of people for whom this is not true; those that really believe and practice religious customs because those things matter to them. But for a lot of people (and I'd say for a majority of people)the things they do at church, in the synagogue, at the mosque, at their dinner tables, are just a big elaborate, and intricate, show of allegiance to their community.
I know, I know, this sounds very "consipracy theory," but the more I think about it, the more I believe it is true. The fact is, believing what your religion says is true and then applying those beliefs to real life is really, really stinking hard. It has become harder as the years go by. I don't know why it has become harder, but my guess is this world has become more and more desensitized to religion. People aren't as willing to put up with religious practices they don't believe in just to fit in with their community. And at least in the United States (based on my limited experience) the community is become less religious and more secular, to the point that being religious and expecting others to do the same is becoming abnormal.
This is not to condemn, this is simply for observation sake. I don't know what to think about this. My first reaction is to get really passionate about my faith and try to think up schemes and plans that would entice people into believing what I believe--really, truly believing. However, that is super, super dangerous--a reaction that leads to legalism, self-righteousness, and even violence.
I think that a lot of people believe that human history was always filled with people who had devout devotion to some kind of belief system. There are all these Greek and Roman temples to the gods, Buddhist and Shinto shrines, Hindu temples that date back to ancient periods. We see these things and we say "Wow! These people really believed in something! And it's like all of them did!"
Maybe a lot of them did, I can't believe that ALL of the people, everywhere, from day one, believed everything they were told. That just didn't happen. Human nature is too strong-willed. Some people might have been scared into submission, and some people really did believe, but I don't think all of them believed in those higher powers at all times. Some people really believed and lived that way. Other people didn't really care, but lived that way because if they didn't they'd get humiliated, or shunned, or killed. Apostacy isn't a new thing. It's not like we haven't struggled to find true believers before. This generation may be "morally bankrupt", but they were no more immoral than any of the generations before them. I think we're simply more upfront about our immorality than the Victorians were. But let's face it, before the Victorians, morality had little to do with true virtue and more to do with reputation. If everyone said you were pure, you were pure. It didn't matter if you were a nymphomaniac baroness with a taste for juveniles.
Is it better to believe and not live like you believe, or to live as if you believe and not really believe?
That question reminds me of a parable that Jesus told. In paraphrase, he said that there was a father who had two sons. He told both of them to go out into a vineyard and work. The first son said, "Sure Dad, I'll get right on it." but he never did. The other said, "Nah, I'm not going to work." but then later he went and worked in the vineyard. Jesus asks those standing around him "Who obeyed his father?" And they answered, "The one to did the work."
Somehow those two things relate, but I'm having trouble figuring out how. That's not for right now. I'll think about it later.
I don't think that the Christian community, as a whole, is being very shrewd. We do not address serious issues with understanding about human nature or with compassion. Our first response is usually to condemn, to throw the first stone. A lot of the time my first reaction is to condemn the problem, and the person who has the problem gets condemned right along with it. We are not nearly as compassionate or loving as we should be. We are prickly people with stone-cold hearts. What's ironic, and incredibly sad, is that the man we believe is God was not like we are. He was open, compassionate--he was in love--and he told us to be more like him and less like our hard-hearted selves.
One more thing before I go to bed. I've been wondering about this one for awhile. Why does the Christian community get so incredibly upset about apostacy? Okay, okay, I understand why it would be upsetting. Lots of people spurn the God we love and that makes us angry. Yeah, yeah. But...shouldn't we be celebrating? Isn't a huge apostacy a sign of Jesus' return? So really it's a...good thing? Sounds incredibly twisted doesn't it? Being happy that people are rejecting God is like being happy that you just shattered your legs in a freak accident. Yay, I'm so excited that I'm going to be in pain and that life is going to suck. But God is always pulling this 'be happy even when life sucks' stuff. He's really good at that. He talks a lot about it, telling us to buck up and look heavenward, don't get so obsessed with how lame this world is that you forget how awesome heaven is.
Love is not complicated. We think it is because human beings are complicated. But love is very simple--it covers.
I can't seem to spit out what I really want to say.
I would really like to be sure of what is most important. One of the problems I have with this, however, is that narrowing down what in life is most important is possibly the biggest task anyone could undertake. Today my sister and her husband invited a friend over to have dinner with us. He is getting a doctorate in Eastern religions, particularly Japanese religions. We asked him how he got into all of that. He said that when he was living in Japan he would talk to people about their beliefs and their religion and they would tell him that they didn't consider themselves religious people, they just followed the traditions of Buddhism because those actions were just that: traditions. He said he wanted to know why, and that he hadn't figured out the answer yet.
This insight into the spiritual lives of the Japanese led us to a conversation about religion (for clarity reasons I'm going to refer to religion as just the actions and traditions of a belief system, not the belief itself) and belief and how there are a lot of people who will practice a religion but not believe in what it values or says. My brother-in-law gave examples of a Jewish friend he has who is an atheist in belief, but practices Jewish customs and traditions.
At first I was blown away by this and thought to myself, well that's just stupid. If you don't believe in something, why would you go through the motions. But then I realized, people do just that all the time. Not just people in Japan or in American, but everywhere. Religion to a lot of people is just a cultural practice, something they do to be accepted into their society, something that shows they have the same set of values as the rest of their community. Naturally there is a group of people for whom this is not true; those that really believe and practice religious customs because those things matter to them. But for a lot of people (and I'd say for a majority of people)the things they do at church, in the synagogue, at the mosque, at their dinner tables, are just a big elaborate, and intricate, show of allegiance to their community.
I know, I know, this sounds very "consipracy theory," but the more I think about it, the more I believe it is true. The fact is, believing what your religion says is true and then applying those beliefs to real life is really, really stinking hard. It has become harder as the years go by. I don't know why it has become harder, but my guess is this world has become more and more desensitized to religion. People aren't as willing to put up with religious practices they don't believe in just to fit in with their community. And at least in the United States (based on my limited experience) the community is become less religious and more secular, to the point that being religious and expecting others to do the same is becoming abnormal.
This is not to condemn, this is simply for observation sake. I don't know what to think about this. My first reaction is to get really passionate about my faith and try to think up schemes and plans that would entice people into believing what I believe--really, truly believing. However, that is super, super dangerous--a reaction that leads to legalism, self-righteousness, and even violence.
I think that a lot of people believe that human history was always filled with people who had devout devotion to some kind of belief system. There are all these Greek and Roman temples to the gods, Buddhist and Shinto shrines, Hindu temples that date back to ancient periods. We see these things and we say "Wow! These people really believed in something! And it's like all of them did!"
Maybe a lot of them did, I can't believe that ALL of the people, everywhere, from day one, believed everything they were told. That just didn't happen. Human nature is too strong-willed. Some people might have been scared into submission, and some people really did believe, but I don't think all of them believed in those higher powers at all times. Some people really believed and lived that way. Other people didn't really care, but lived that way because if they didn't they'd get humiliated, or shunned, or killed. Apostacy isn't a new thing. It's not like we haven't struggled to find true believers before. This generation may be "morally bankrupt", but they were no more immoral than any of the generations before them. I think we're simply more upfront about our immorality than the Victorians were. But let's face it, before the Victorians, morality had little to do with true virtue and more to do with reputation. If everyone said you were pure, you were pure. It didn't matter if you were a nymphomaniac baroness with a taste for juveniles.
Is it better to believe and not live like you believe, or to live as if you believe and not really believe?
That question reminds me of a parable that Jesus told. In paraphrase, he said that there was a father who had two sons. He told both of them to go out into a vineyard and work. The first son said, "Sure Dad, I'll get right on it." but he never did. The other said, "Nah, I'm not going to work." but then later he went and worked in the vineyard. Jesus asks those standing around him "Who obeyed his father?" And they answered, "The one to did the work."
Somehow those two things relate, but I'm having trouble figuring out how. That's not for right now. I'll think about it later.
I don't think that the Christian community, as a whole, is being very shrewd. We do not address serious issues with understanding about human nature or with compassion. Our first response is usually to condemn, to throw the first stone. A lot of the time my first reaction is to condemn the problem, and the person who has the problem gets condemned right along with it. We are not nearly as compassionate or loving as we should be. We are prickly people with stone-cold hearts. What's ironic, and incredibly sad, is that the man we believe is God was not like we are. He was open, compassionate--he was in love--and he told us to be more like him and less like our hard-hearted selves.
One more thing before I go to bed. I've been wondering about this one for awhile. Why does the Christian community get so incredibly upset about apostacy? Okay, okay, I understand why it would be upsetting. Lots of people spurn the God we love and that makes us angry. Yeah, yeah. But...shouldn't we be celebrating? Isn't a huge apostacy a sign of Jesus' return? So really it's a...good thing? Sounds incredibly twisted doesn't it? Being happy that people are rejecting God is like being happy that you just shattered your legs in a freak accident. Yay, I'm so excited that I'm going to be in pain and that life is going to suck. But God is always pulling this 'be happy even when life sucks' stuff. He's really good at that. He talks a lot about it, telling us to buck up and look heavenward, don't get so obsessed with how lame this world is that you forget how awesome heaven is.
Love is not complicated. We think it is because human beings are complicated. But love is very simple--it covers.
Friday, July 31, 2009
The Second Day
I took three tries before I got my Blogger password right. I guess that means I'll never be able to hack myself.
That is....a bit wrong.
Anyway.
I'm not in CA. I'm in another state. And I'm tired. So tired. My sister is a worse night owl than me. And we really shouldn't stay in the same bedroom. We're a high school slumber party gone awry. We don't sleep. This is the second night I've been up all night.
I have a theory about staying up late. Clarification: I have a theory about staying up late and talking with other people. This theory only works if the lights are off, or if you are camping and sitting around a campfire.
It is much easier to talk to someone at night when you can't see their face. Have you ever noticed that to be true? I find it very soothing and reassuring to talk to a person when I can't see their emotions splayed out across their face, waiting for my reception. Saying hard things is easier in the dark and saying sincere, sentimental words are easier in the dark too. And, for me, it is much more comfortable to talk to someone when I don't have to look at their eyes. For some people this is a trust thing. I've heard people say that they don't trust another person who doesn't look them in the eyes when they're talking. But honestly, I get incredibly distracted when I'm looking into a person's eyes while talking and listening. I'd much rather stare at a fixed point or play with something lame, or doodle than look at someone while their talking....or even look at them while I'm talking.
Maybe we (humans) just really like to think that we're secret beings, who can't possibly be vivisected in daylight. Our emotions are too fragile to be seen in the glare of the sun. The moon and the stars are much gentler handlers of the tiny pieces of our hearts. They don't demand resolution or expect an answer. The moon whispers reassurances and the stars smile and dance with us to the music of night breezes. The night is a beautiful time for confession.
That is....a bit wrong.
Anyway.
I'm not in CA. I'm in another state. And I'm tired. So tired. My sister is a worse night owl than me. And we really shouldn't stay in the same bedroom. We're a high school slumber party gone awry. We don't sleep. This is the second night I've been up all night.
I have a theory about staying up late. Clarification: I have a theory about staying up late and talking with other people. This theory only works if the lights are off, or if you are camping and sitting around a campfire.
It is much easier to talk to someone at night when you can't see their face. Have you ever noticed that to be true? I find it very soothing and reassuring to talk to a person when I can't see their emotions splayed out across their face, waiting for my reception. Saying hard things is easier in the dark and saying sincere, sentimental words are easier in the dark too. And, for me, it is much more comfortable to talk to someone when I don't have to look at their eyes. For some people this is a trust thing. I've heard people say that they don't trust another person who doesn't look them in the eyes when they're talking. But honestly, I get incredibly distracted when I'm looking into a person's eyes while talking and listening. I'd much rather stare at a fixed point or play with something lame, or doodle than look at someone while their talking....or even look at them while I'm talking.
Maybe we (humans) just really like to think that we're secret beings, who can't possibly be vivisected in daylight. Our emotions are too fragile to be seen in the glare of the sun. The moon and the stars are much gentler handlers of the tiny pieces of our hearts. They don't demand resolution or expect an answer. The moon whispers reassurances and the stars smile and dance with us to the music of night breezes. The night is a beautiful time for confession.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Beans
Goodness.
Musicians are sexy. Seriously. I was just watching a video of a guy I know playing the bass. I would never in my entire life be attracted to this boy, but as his fingers were flying up and down the neck of that bass I couldn't help but feel a little drawn to his excellent bassist abilities. I'm a sucker for people who can play instruments. Deep down in my heart I've always known this.
I'm reading another Barbara Kingsolver book. She makes me feel like I'm home. I've always suspected that I should be living somewhere where people talk in southern accents and time goes slower than normal, but I've never been able to get there. Bakersfield is as close as I get, it gets more like LA by the year. The lovely Ms. Kingsolver is a fairly good writer. I'm reading her first book right now; I read a later one earlier this month. The later one was better. I suppose writers get better with time. Who would have thought? :D The story is interesting though. I really want Taylor to meet Jax. He's my favorite character.
Tomorrow I'm going to my grandparent's house to pretend like I'm a country girl who doesn't live in the suburbs. Both my grandparents are going crazy. My whole family is sad because at some point in the near future we're going to have to get rid of their 11 acre property that we've all come to love so much. In a fit of silliness one night, my mom suggested that I move in with them and take care of them, the house, the property, and go to school. That plan is part pleasant dream and part nightmare.
Tonight my mom and I were talking about the future like we were two thirds of the Fates. I felt so out of control and small that I got frustrated and then angry. I have to work to remember that God is the one taking care of all this shadow and nonsense.
Musicians are sexy. Seriously. I was just watching a video of a guy I know playing the bass. I would never in my entire life be attracted to this boy, but as his fingers were flying up and down the neck of that bass I couldn't help but feel a little drawn to his excellent bassist abilities. I'm a sucker for people who can play instruments. Deep down in my heart I've always known this.
I'm reading another Barbara Kingsolver book. She makes me feel like I'm home. I've always suspected that I should be living somewhere where people talk in southern accents and time goes slower than normal, but I've never been able to get there. Bakersfield is as close as I get, it gets more like LA by the year. The lovely Ms. Kingsolver is a fairly good writer. I'm reading her first book right now; I read a later one earlier this month. The later one was better. I suppose writers get better with time. Who would have thought? :D The story is interesting though. I really want Taylor to meet Jax. He's my favorite character.
Tomorrow I'm going to my grandparent's house to pretend like I'm a country girl who doesn't live in the suburbs. Both my grandparents are going crazy. My whole family is sad because at some point in the near future we're going to have to get rid of their 11 acre property that we've all come to love so much. In a fit of silliness one night, my mom suggested that I move in with them and take care of them, the house, the property, and go to school. That plan is part pleasant dream and part nightmare.
Tonight my mom and I were talking about the future like we were two thirds of the Fates. I felt so out of control and small that I got frustrated and then angry. I have to work to remember that God is the one taking care of all this shadow and nonsense.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Sickness of Hearts
Have you ever had a sick heart? Anger really does take me apart, one piece at a time.
I'm not going to molder anymore because of these emotions. They go one way, my sense goes another way. This battle is classic!
I'm not going to molder anymore because of these emotions. They go one way, my sense goes another way. This battle is classic!
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Lucky Duck
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m stuck here in Bakersfield
Waiting to come and meet you
Waiting to give you a hug and show
You how much I’ve changed
And how much we can really like each other now.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m sitting here in my room
Thinking of all the books you’ve read
And recommended like the teacher you are.
I miss your brown hair and gray-blue eyes
Looking at me with fire, spunk and wit.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m just a party girl in Bakersfield
Waiting for God to show up
And change everything around
So that life isn’t recognizable anymore
He’s already done that for you hasn’t he?
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m still awake at 4 a.m.
Sneezing and feeling good-naturedly jealous
Think about what it will be like
To see you in Newark, New Jersey
Shining with the gloss of a sun kiss.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m just 21 years old
Still too young to have such an old soul
And maybe when I’m older and
Your children want to come live
With their naughty aunt I’ll be satisfied.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m thinking about how much
This whole world with all its bells
And jangles and whistles, with all its
Happiness and sadness and jealousies
Could never amount to how much I love you.
And I’m stuck here in Bakersfield
Waiting to come and meet you
Waiting to give you a hug and show
You how much I’ve changed
And how much we can really like each other now.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m sitting here in my room
Thinking of all the books you’ve read
And recommended like the teacher you are.
I miss your brown hair and gray-blue eyes
Looking at me with fire, spunk and wit.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m just a party girl in Bakersfield
Waiting for God to show up
And change everything around
So that life isn’t recognizable anymore
He’s already done that for you hasn’t he?
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m still awake at 4 a.m.
Sneezing and feeling good-naturedly jealous
Think about what it will be like
To see you in Newark, New Jersey
Shining with the gloss of a sun kiss.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m just 21 years old
Still too young to have such an old soul
And maybe when I’m older and
Your children want to come live
With their naughty aunt I’ll be satisfied.
You’re in London lucky duck
And I’m thinking about how much
This whole world with all its bells
And jangles and whistles, with all its
Happiness and sadness and jealousies
Could never amount to how much I love you.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Giddy. And a story based on real events.
As you probably gathered after reading the previous post (read the previous post.), I stayed up all night because of a combination of tea and a three hour nap....and coffee this morning. Bad combination for sleep, but I feel really wired and creative.
Moral of the story: Get significantly less sleep.
Here is another thing I wrote this morning because coffee makes me crazy.
Milk
This morning I woke up after not sleeping all night and decided to make some coffee. I got out the delicious Kona blend my dad keeps stashed in the cupboard and went about making myself some sweet, sweet, no-more-sleepiness elixir. I stood there waiting for the coffee to stop dripping through the coffee maker while reading the newspaper. When the coffee was done I went to the fridge and got out the milk. And then, thankfully, I smelled it. Ew. The milk was safely drained down the sink, leaving me with a problem. No milk means no sweet, sweet, no-more-sleepiness elixir. I’m not hardcore. I don’t look at waitresses with a steely eye and say “I’ll take my coffee black, like my women.” I prefer sweet things and, on occasion, fruity things.
The only thing to do when faced with a problem like this is to go and get more milk, of course. The fact that I’m going to get one gallon of milk at 6:30am doesn’t make any difference to me. Coffee is hot when it’s hot and needs milk when it needs milk. So, I got in my car and drove down to Vons, got some milk, and shuffled my way to the cashier. She scanned my milk and I paid for it. While I was paying for the delicious liquid I yawned. The cashier noticed my yawn and said, “It’s too early to be up. But you gotta have some milk.” I laughed with her, shrugged my shoulders, and for a minute I pretended that I was someone else.
I pretended that I was a mom with three kids under the age of seven who are all home for summer vacation. I woke up at 6am and stumbled to the kitchen, ready for some coffee to start the day. Soon my beloved, darling, exuberant children would be awake, begging me for Cap’n Crunch. I go to the refrigerator and look inside. No milk. NO MILK?! Code red! Code red! Alpha, bravo, lexus……whatever! There’s no way that we don’t have any milk. Husband unit just went to the store yesterday! How could he have forgotten to get milk? Screams are stifled, the urge to throw plates on the floor is curbed. I need milk, it’s as simple as that. There’s no way I’m going to sit in this kitchen drinking black coffee when my children wake up. There’s no way I’m going to tell them that they can’t have milk with their Cap’n Crunch this morning. There’s no way I’m going to ever let them know about the Milk Dilemma. I walk to my bedroom, tiptoeing past the little angels’ rooms. My husband is getting ready for work when I rush in and start throwing on random items of clothing. “What’s the matter?” he innocently asks, as if he hasn’t just sent me into homeland security alert mode. “You forgot the milk yesterday. I’m going to the store to get some. Don’t leave until I get back.” I say all of this quickly, while simultaneously grabbing my keys and rushing out the door, careful to make no noise as I walk down the hall and leave the house. As I exit the bedroom I can hear my husband say, “Well, what do you expect? It wasn’t on the list.” I drive down to Vons, listening to Norah Jones and telling my milk woes to the rearview mirror. I get to the cashier and yawn as I’m paying. She notices my yawn and says, “It’s too early to be up. But you gotta have some milk.” I don’t laugh; I just look at her very seriously and say, “With three kids, it’s essential to the well being of my household.” She grins and I grab the milk and go. When I get home Angel #1 is sitting on Daddy’s lap and he’s spoon-feeding her black coffee. I smile sweetly at him and say, “Don’t sabotage me twice in one day.”
Moral of the story: Get significantly less sleep.
Here is another thing I wrote this morning because coffee makes me crazy.
Milk
This morning I woke up after not sleeping all night and decided to make some coffee. I got out the delicious Kona blend my dad keeps stashed in the cupboard and went about making myself some sweet, sweet, no-more-sleepiness elixir. I stood there waiting for the coffee to stop dripping through the coffee maker while reading the newspaper. When the coffee was done I went to the fridge and got out the milk. And then, thankfully, I smelled it. Ew. The milk was safely drained down the sink, leaving me with a problem. No milk means no sweet, sweet, no-more-sleepiness elixir. I’m not hardcore. I don’t look at waitresses with a steely eye and say “I’ll take my coffee black, like my women.” I prefer sweet things and, on occasion, fruity things.
The only thing to do when faced with a problem like this is to go and get more milk, of course. The fact that I’m going to get one gallon of milk at 6:30am doesn’t make any difference to me. Coffee is hot when it’s hot and needs milk when it needs milk. So, I got in my car and drove down to Vons, got some milk, and shuffled my way to the cashier. She scanned my milk and I paid for it. While I was paying for the delicious liquid I yawned. The cashier noticed my yawn and said, “It’s too early to be up. But you gotta have some milk.” I laughed with her, shrugged my shoulders, and for a minute I pretended that I was someone else.
I pretended that I was a mom with three kids under the age of seven who are all home for summer vacation. I woke up at 6am and stumbled to the kitchen, ready for some coffee to start the day. Soon my beloved, darling, exuberant children would be awake, begging me for Cap’n Crunch. I go to the refrigerator and look inside. No milk. NO MILK?! Code red! Code red! Alpha, bravo, lexus……whatever! There’s no way that we don’t have any milk. Husband unit just went to the store yesterday! How could he have forgotten to get milk? Screams are stifled, the urge to throw plates on the floor is curbed. I need milk, it’s as simple as that. There’s no way I’m going to sit in this kitchen drinking black coffee when my children wake up. There’s no way I’m going to tell them that they can’t have milk with their Cap’n Crunch this morning. There’s no way I’m going to ever let them know about the Milk Dilemma. I walk to my bedroom, tiptoeing past the little angels’ rooms. My husband is getting ready for work when I rush in and start throwing on random items of clothing. “What’s the matter?” he innocently asks, as if he hasn’t just sent me into homeland security alert mode. “You forgot the milk yesterday. I’m going to the store to get some. Don’t leave until I get back.” I say all of this quickly, while simultaneously grabbing my keys and rushing out the door, careful to make no noise as I walk down the hall and leave the house. As I exit the bedroom I can hear my husband say, “Well, what do you expect? It wasn’t on the list.” I drive down to Vons, listening to Norah Jones and telling my milk woes to the rearview mirror. I get to the cashier and yawn as I’m paying. She notices my yawn and says, “It’s too early to be up. But you gotta have some milk.” I don’t laugh; I just look at her very seriously and say, “With three kids, it’s essential to the well being of my household.” She grins and I grab the milk and go. When I get home Angel #1 is sitting on Daddy’s lap and he’s spoon-feeding her black coffee. I smile sweetly at him and say, “Don’t sabotage me twice in one day.”
Sleep
Some nights you just don’t get any sleep. You stay awake. Sometimes you toss and turn. There are moments when you are still. A few times you look through the blinds and comment to yourself that it is getting light out there. For the first time in months you witness a sunrise. Suddenly 100 degree weather doesn’t seem so terrible on this July dawn. There’s water on the grass that looks like dew. Anyone who wasn’t awake to hear the sprinklers turn on and off at five this morning would think that water was dew. The newspaper is already on the driveway. Your bare shoulders are giving you the chills. Maybe getting back under the covers and closing your eyes would make sense. But so would drawing a bath and soaking for some minutes. Besides, when you close your eyes and lie in bed for an hour and sleep hasn’t come yet you start to think it might be better to just stay awake all night. Face it, some nights you just don’t get any sleep.
Now you’re looking out the window like a reverse voyeur. There’s an old man you’ve never seen before walking down the street. He’s looking around suspiciously, although you can’t imagine why. Your busybody neighbor who goes to sleep at 7 pm has been up for at least an hour. His son and business partner arrive in that white Ford Explorer. The exercisers are up and alert. These are people who have gotten reasonable amounts of sleep. They’ll go to work in two hours, after the shower, after the cereal, after Good Morning America. The street is silent. You wonder if it is cold outside. The weather is cold, if that word means anything at the beginning of July. You think about making some coffee. Because, let’s face it, some nights you just don’t get any sleep. Besides, you never were good at sleep anyway.
Now you’re looking out the window like a reverse voyeur. There’s an old man you’ve never seen before walking down the street. He’s looking around suspiciously, although you can’t imagine why. Your busybody neighbor who goes to sleep at 7 pm has been up for at least an hour. His son and business partner arrive in that white Ford Explorer. The exercisers are up and alert. These are people who have gotten reasonable amounts of sleep. They’ll go to work in two hours, after the shower, after the cereal, after Good Morning America. The street is silent. You wonder if it is cold outside. The weather is cold, if that word means anything at the beginning of July. You think about making some coffee. Because, let’s face it, some nights you just don’t get any sleep. Besides, you never were good at sleep anyway.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
One More Time
I'm not done for today.
You thought I was.
And you were wrong.
IN YOUR FACE.
:D Well, okay, not really in your face, but whatever. It's time for bed soon. I have to say this because I'm a big girl and I have things to do tomorrow and I have to get up early to do them.
Being big really, truly sucks big time. I was talking to my dad a week ago about how when you get to be an "adult" summer vacation isn't really that big of a deal, it's just another part of the year. It has stopped being magical, and the feeling I have about this is similar to the one I experienced when Christmas stopping being magical (True story, Christmas stopped being magical for me. But there's a happy ending, I realized it was way cooler to be with my family than to have a magical Christmas. Go me. [Today I was at my friend's house and there was another one of my friends there and he had on his computer desktop the following message. AWESOMENESS: When I get sad, I stop being sad and get awesome instead. True story.]) (Don't you enjoy how I started and ended that parenthetical remark with True story? True story. I'll stop now...) So what I'm trying to say is, summer ain't all it's cracked up to be anymore. Lame.
And also this:
Praying for strength is similar to praying for patience. If you'e just being cute and spiritual and don't really care about having patience or strength, then don't do it. Because it SUCKS. I have never been so plagued with thoughts that are the exact opposite of what I want to be thinking in my life. It's like they wont stop, and I don't know how to make them stop. Someone save me! Jesus, please, save me. I'm not being facetious...I'm really done with it. I would tell you what's going on, but I have one more thing to do before I do that. So you'll have to wait. Sorry.
That's all I've got, because it is midnight and that is my self-inflicted bedtime.
You thought I was.
And you were wrong.
IN YOUR FACE.
:D Well, okay, not really in your face, but whatever. It's time for bed soon. I have to say this because I'm a big girl and I have things to do tomorrow and I have to get up early to do them.
Being big really, truly sucks big time. I was talking to my dad a week ago about how when you get to be an "adult" summer vacation isn't really that big of a deal, it's just another part of the year. It has stopped being magical, and the feeling I have about this is similar to the one I experienced when Christmas stopping being magical (True story, Christmas stopped being magical for me. But there's a happy ending, I realized it was way cooler to be with my family than to have a magical Christmas. Go me. [Today I was at my friend's house and there was another one of my friends there and he had on his computer desktop the following message. AWESOMENESS: When I get sad, I stop being sad and get awesome instead. True story.]) (Don't you enjoy how I started and ended that parenthetical remark with True story? True story. I'll stop now...) So what I'm trying to say is, summer ain't all it's cracked up to be anymore. Lame.
And also this:
Praying for strength is similar to praying for patience. If you'e just being cute and spiritual and don't really care about having patience or strength, then don't do it. Because it SUCKS. I have never been so plagued with thoughts that are the exact opposite of what I want to be thinking in my life. It's like they wont stop, and I don't know how to make them stop. Someone save me! Jesus, please, save me. I'm not being facetious...I'm really done with it. I would tell you what's going on, but I have one more thing to do before I do that. So you'll have to wait. Sorry.
That's all I've got, because it is midnight and that is my self-inflicted bedtime.
Eyes for Loopholes
My parents went on a semi-vacation on Thursday. It is only a semi-vacation because they're going to be doing more wedding planning than relaxing. At least, I think that's what is going to happen. I might be wrong. It's happened before.
Since they've been gone I've done many things, and I feel the need to record them there, because I'm bored (which hasn't really, truly happened since....high school I think) and I need someone to talk to. Blogger, you shall be my data dump receptacle. Yay!
My parents left Thursday night, right after I left to go to a Bible Study, er, book study. We were talking about God, but I don't think Bibles were involved. Which is strange. But whatever. Perhaps we had hidden His word in our hearts. (hahahaha, bad Christian joke!) I didn't want to leave the book study because I knew that when I came home I would be all alone in this big house. By myself. With no one to talk to. Except for a cat, but Madeline isn't much of a conversationalist. She's more of a manipulator really. Pet me or your hand will experience pain beyond anything you can imagine. But I came home because everyone else left the book study and I didn't want to just glom onto the Turner family and become their fourth daughter. And so I was bored.
And then Friday rolled around. I was really excited because that evening there was a movie night planned at CCR, which meant that there would be PEOPLE to be with! Hurray! So I made snickerdoodles, because baking is what I do best (unless it's chocolate chip cookies. I can't get those right). I made a double recipe, because no one wants to run out of snickerdoodles. The janitor and custodian for my church live right next door to the buildings and are usually the ones who open and close at events. But this week they're also on vacation, so the task of opening and closing was left up to me. I packed up my snickdoodles, a few games, a couple of Disney movies, and headed over to the church. When I got there the time was 7:45. I opened everything up and waiting until 8, the designated time for people to start showing up, ready for some sweet snickerdoodle lovin'! But no one came. 8:10--No one here. 8:15--No one here. 8:20--No one here. At 8:30 I packed all my goodies up and started my car. Thank you faithful church members for showing up. I appreciate driving 15 minutes to the church and baking five dozen snickerdoodles for ghosts. Yay!
So is church ministry. Everyone gets really excited about a certain event, but then forget about it when the event is supposed to happen. Unless a specific person is in charge and calling everyone reminding them to come, chances are the event is going to flop. No biggie. God is love. He gives me love so that I can love you. :D
Now I had five dozen snickeroodles and no one to share them with. I most certainly didn't want to go home. I also had a problem because the people that I normally would call up to share snickerdoodles with were either at Riverlakes with their youth, or at Niles doing some really cool water night. (I was kind of bummed that I had to miss out on that. And let's be honest, I was even more bummed when no one showed up the movie night and I realized that I might have been able to go. But then, as I said before, so is ministry. And really, I wouldn't have it any other way. How else would God teach me patience and unconditional love if everything went as planned all the time?) So I called up a friend who I thought might be home and asked if she wanted some snickerdoodles. She did....sort of. And as I was driving toward her house I thought to myself: I can be the snickerdoodle fairy! (As Kayti told me when I got to her house, I was performing random acts of baking. Which is cute. Kayti is always coming up with hilarious and cute things like that.) I dropped off some snickerdoodles and looked through my phone and realized that I don't have very many phone numbers. Lame. But I did have Natalie's, whcih was fortunate, because I got to spend a lot of time with her and her precious puppy who I love. I love Natalie too. Really, I do. That was a good night as far as loneliness goes. I wasn't lonely, and that was good for me.
And Natalie let me borrow her copy of The Princess Bride, which came in handy the next day.
On Saturday, I read The Princess Bride. The whole thing, all day long, on various couches and chairs in my house. Sometimes I stood up and read it, because the fencing scenes are just too good to take sitting down.
There was one point in the day when I went over to Berean to find some books about games for groups. I also found some books that thoroughly convicted me. (Thank you God.)
Here's the truth: I don't ever feel like I'm cut out for youth ministry. I love it, but I don't know why, because most of what I have to do scares the living daylights out of me. Go talk to the kids about Jesus, and FREAK OUT before you do it. Go talk to their parents about camp, and FREAK OUT before you do it. Go show them how much you love Jesus, and FREAK OUT before, and while you do it. Those are only just three of the many situations I find myself freaking out about. But really, there's no go reason to freak out. Because of God. Because God knows my weak heart and will inside and out, and he also knows that my heart and will have nothing to do with youth learning about how much Jesus loves them. God lifts me up, I don't lift Him up. But I have to stop clutching at hand holds and allow him to keep lifting me up higher and higher and higher.
That is such a hard lesson for me to grasp and get into my head. It has taken me awhile to be very vulnerable with God, to come to the point where I just flat out admitted to Him what I know I'm bad at and the things that I don't measure up to. And apparently God has enough power and greatness to be strong in my stupidity and silliness. I don't know how He does this with my mess, but He does. He's amazing. He can do anything. He can resurrect Himself. I don't think I need to be worrying about anything if He can resurrect Hemself from death.
I've been thinking about loneliness for the past two days (for obvious reasons...) and I know that I need other people so desparately. I can't live alone, I would become ridiculous. If I were single for the rest of my life, I'd still have to have a roommate or something. Living alone is the most awful thing on the planet. Sure, it seems nice when you think about it, especially when everyone you live with is getting on your nerves. But ultimately the affirmation that people CAN live with you is nice to get everyday. Sometimes we don't always want to live with each other, but the ability to live with one another is great! I don't know how I got to this point of loving people and community so much. God must have changed my mind, because when I was in high school I hated being around people. I'm done with that now. My two days alone have shown me that.
On the flip side, when I am lonely I talk to God a lot more. There is more time to think about prayer and people who have needs I can meet when I am alone for a little while.
To cap off this rambly message here are some things God has been teaching me today, yesterday, and the day before that:
a) I need God so much. My life is silliness without Him. He makes me feel so content and satisfied and....good.
b) Jesus' resurrection is SO important! And so is His death. Growing up in church teaches you to take his death and resurrection for granted. If Jesus wasn't resurrected, then His death means nothing; He's just another guy that died a cruel death. But He's alive, death is conquered, there is no more fear. :D Makes me bubbly inside.
c) God must have all of me. Fears, weaknesses, desires, money, vulnerability, plans, obedience, EVERYTHING. Freaky isn't it? Yes. Yes it is.
Since they've been gone I've done many things, and I feel the need to record them there, because I'm bored (which hasn't really, truly happened since....high school I think) and I need someone to talk to. Blogger, you shall be my data dump receptacle. Yay!
My parents left Thursday night, right after I left to go to a Bible Study, er, book study. We were talking about God, but I don't think Bibles were involved. Which is strange. But whatever. Perhaps we had hidden His word in our hearts. (hahahaha, bad Christian joke!) I didn't want to leave the book study because I knew that when I came home I would be all alone in this big house. By myself. With no one to talk to. Except for a cat, but Madeline isn't much of a conversationalist. She's more of a manipulator really. Pet me or your hand will experience pain beyond anything you can imagine. But I came home because everyone else left the book study and I didn't want to just glom onto the Turner family and become their fourth daughter. And so I was bored.
And then Friday rolled around. I was really excited because that evening there was a movie night planned at CCR, which meant that there would be PEOPLE to be with! Hurray! So I made snickerdoodles, because baking is what I do best (unless it's chocolate chip cookies. I can't get those right). I made a double recipe, because no one wants to run out of snickerdoodles. The janitor and custodian for my church live right next door to the buildings and are usually the ones who open and close at events. But this week they're also on vacation, so the task of opening and closing was left up to me. I packed up my snickdoodles, a few games, a couple of Disney movies, and headed over to the church. When I got there the time was 7:45. I opened everything up and waiting until 8, the designated time for people to start showing up, ready for some sweet snickerdoodle lovin'! But no one came. 8:10--No one here. 8:15--No one here. 8:20--No one here. At 8:30 I packed all my goodies up and started my car. Thank you faithful church members for showing up. I appreciate driving 15 minutes to the church and baking five dozen snickerdoodles for ghosts. Yay!
So is church ministry. Everyone gets really excited about a certain event, but then forget about it when the event is supposed to happen. Unless a specific person is in charge and calling everyone reminding them to come, chances are the event is going to flop. No biggie. God is love. He gives me love so that I can love you. :D
Now I had five dozen snickeroodles and no one to share them with. I most certainly didn't want to go home. I also had a problem because the people that I normally would call up to share snickerdoodles with were either at Riverlakes with their youth, or at Niles doing some really cool water night. (I was kind of bummed that I had to miss out on that. And let's be honest, I was even more bummed when no one showed up the movie night and I realized that I might have been able to go. But then, as I said before, so is ministry. And really, I wouldn't have it any other way. How else would God teach me patience and unconditional love if everything went as planned all the time?) So I called up a friend who I thought might be home and asked if she wanted some snickerdoodles. She did....sort of. And as I was driving toward her house I thought to myself: I can be the snickerdoodle fairy! (As Kayti told me when I got to her house, I was performing random acts of baking. Which is cute. Kayti is always coming up with hilarious and cute things like that.) I dropped off some snickerdoodles and looked through my phone and realized that I don't have very many phone numbers. Lame. But I did have Natalie's, whcih was fortunate, because I got to spend a lot of time with her and her precious puppy who I love. I love Natalie too. Really, I do. That was a good night as far as loneliness goes. I wasn't lonely, and that was good for me.
And Natalie let me borrow her copy of The Princess Bride, which came in handy the next day.
On Saturday, I read The Princess Bride. The whole thing, all day long, on various couches and chairs in my house. Sometimes I stood up and read it, because the fencing scenes are just too good to take sitting down.
There was one point in the day when I went over to Berean to find some books about games for groups. I also found some books that thoroughly convicted me. (Thank you God.)
Here's the truth: I don't ever feel like I'm cut out for youth ministry. I love it, but I don't know why, because most of what I have to do scares the living daylights out of me. Go talk to the kids about Jesus, and FREAK OUT before you do it. Go talk to their parents about camp, and FREAK OUT before you do it. Go show them how much you love Jesus, and FREAK OUT before, and while you do it. Those are only just three of the many situations I find myself freaking out about. But really, there's no go reason to freak out. Because of God. Because God knows my weak heart and will inside and out, and he also knows that my heart and will have nothing to do with youth learning about how much Jesus loves them. God lifts me up, I don't lift Him up. But I have to stop clutching at hand holds and allow him to keep lifting me up higher and higher and higher.
That is such a hard lesson for me to grasp and get into my head. It has taken me awhile to be very vulnerable with God, to come to the point where I just flat out admitted to Him what I know I'm bad at and the things that I don't measure up to. And apparently God has enough power and greatness to be strong in my stupidity and silliness. I don't know how He does this with my mess, but He does. He's amazing. He can do anything. He can resurrect Himself. I don't think I need to be worrying about anything if He can resurrect Hemself from death.
I've been thinking about loneliness for the past two days (for obvious reasons...) and I know that I need other people so desparately. I can't live alone, I would become ridiculous. If I were single for the rest of my life, I'd still have to have a roommate or something. Living alone is the most awful thing on the planet. Sure, it seems nice when you think about it, especially when everyone you live with is getting on your nerves. But ultimately the affirmation that people CAN live with you is nice to get everyday. Sometimes we don't always want to live with each other, but the ability to live with one another is great! I don't know how I got to this point of loving people and community so much. God must have changed my mind, because when I was in high school I hated being around people. I'm done with that now. My two days alone have shown me that.
On the flip side, when I am lonely I talk to God a lot more. There is more time to think about prayer and people who have needs I can meet when I am alone for a little while.
To cap off this rambly message here are some things God has been teaching me today, yesterday, and the day before that:
a) I need God so much. My life is silliness without Him. He makes me feel so content and satisfied and....good.
b) Jesus' resurrection is SO important! And so is His death. Growing up in church teaches you to take his death and resurrection for granted. If Jesus wasn't resurrected, then His death means nothing; He's just another guy that died a cruel death. But He's alive, death is conquered, there is no more fear. :D Makes me bubbly inside.
c) God must have all of me. Fears, weaknesses, desires, money, vulnerability, plans, obedience, EVERYTHING. Freaky isn't it? Yes. Yes it is.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Eyes
Then I took my own life and everything afterward was frightful, starting with Sylvester. He was there in my time after death, as if the words of Death Cab for Cutie songs are prophetic or something. There wasn't any sound. I don't think there was any color either. Just dark and needles pricking my skin, liquid coursing out of the holes that was too viscous to be blood. My whole body was shrinking, draining itself of--what exactly? I felt the streams coming out of my skin and could not grasp its wetness. Was it wet? Was it really liquid? Or was it more solid matter, or perhaps some gas close to its liquid form. I couldn't hold onto the streams coming out of me, my hands were becoming too small and shriveled to grasp. The smaller I got the more I realized I couldn't feel properly. My thoughts were nothing more than instincts. At one startling moment it became clear to me that I was being sapped of my energy, thoughts, dreams, experiences--in short, life. The streams that seeped from my pores drifted toward Sylvester. In his hands he held a clear glass jar, a number was inscribed on the side. He danced and jumped and twirled around, catching all of the wily streams in his glass jar. When there was nothing left of me but my eyes--which saw without recognizing--and he had gathered all the streams, he placed a cork topper on the jar and snapped his fingers. A shelf, covered with several similarly shaped and marked jars, appeared and he placed my jar on the shelf. Then he walked toward my eyes and scooped them up in his hand. Everything I knew was darkness, and it was not discomforting.
Waking up was a pain. Death had seemed so pleasant. Rest had been so near.
Waking up was a pain. Death had seemed so pleasant. Rest had been so near.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Brain Jello
I've been thinking about a few things lately. I can't lay them out yet because I'm not done thinking about them. I just want everyone to know that I actually have been using my brains, even though I am not in school being forced to use my brains (in sometimes frivolous and awful ways...general ed I hateth thee).
Here is a list.
Things That Will Change Your Life:
- Jr. High
- Car Crashes
- God
- Dating
- High School
- Best Friends
- Deaths of Others
- Words
- The combination of human genitalia
- The actions of people you don't know
- Cats
- College
- Moving away from home
- Calling your parents
- Driving
- New York
- Electricity
- Chemistry
- Forgiveness
There are more. Obviously. But I'm tired and am currently being very unwise.
Here is a list.
Things That Will Change Your Life:
- Jr. High
- Car Crashes
- God
- Dating
- High School
- Best Friends
- Deaths of Others
- Words
- The combination of human genitalia
- The actions of people you don't know
- Cats
- College
- Moving away from home
- Calling your parents
- Driving
- New York
- Electricity
- Chemistry
- Forgiveness
There are more. Obviously. But I'm tired and am currently being very unwise.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Dancing to Windchimes
I do my best thinking at night. Waking up tomorrow is going to suck, but I think it's all worth it in the end.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Perfect Love
Today. Today I wonder if perfect love reaches out the most to those who are wounded.
In my head I have an image of Jesus (whatever he looks like) and the 'good' are surrounding Him. They are smiling and carrying their Bibles and they've got really sweet cross necklaces. You know what I'm talking about, the ones that are made out of the two little nails. Right, the crosses that remind us of what Jesus suffered. Good. I'm glad we're on the same page. The 'good' are cracking up and singing praise songs and waving their little hands in the air all around Him. He looks around at his troupe and smiles. Surrounding this group of the 'good' is another group, still His and still hopelessly cynical. They're the 'bad'. No, no, they're not the 'evil', that's different. This the group who want Jesus as much as, and if not more than, the 'good'. They want what he says to be real, tangible, and rampant in this world. They desperately want the Church to be something other than a poster-child for hypocrisy, sin, and idolatry. They want love--pure, passionate, life-changing love. God's love. Jesus' love. But look, they've been pushed out by the 'good'. Why? Look at them. They're obviously not up to par. Clearly they're against following the good old fashioned rules. Look at them. They seem to think it's okay to smoke and drink and laugh violently. God hasn't eradicated all of their sins yet. So the 'good' get together to teach the 'bad' a lesson. No love for them. Just painful truths about how they're not living up to the standard of the 'good'. They're spurned. Spurned by the 'good', those who should love the most. So the 'bad' stand on the outside. They're angry, confused, cynical, hating their brothers and sisters but trying to love Jesus. They're wounded.
And all the hand waving and loud singing of the 'good' cannot distract Jesus from the fact that His bride is broken. Raped of her unity by Pride. Accosted by Hate, Jealousy, Self-righteousness, and Fear. She plugs up Love so that it cannot escape the boundaries of her body. No one may have it, no one may receive it unless they take the right steps and say the magic words and don that cross necklace. Now you're clean! Now you're worthy of love! Congratulations. Jesus loves you now that you follow Him.
So the 'bad' stand there on the outskirts. They want Jesus, they want the New Testament church at the beginning of Acts, they want that all-consuming fire, but not at the price of fitting in with the 'good'. Screw that to hell.
Do you see what's in my head? There's just no way that perfect love holes itself up with the 'good' people because it's apparent that there are other people in the world who desperately need perfect love. Everyone needs perfect love. And I have a feeling that perfect love reaches out more for the broken, the wounded, the hopelessly cynical, the person who sins in all those ways we're so familiar with. Because they need it. Because they don't want a pat on the back for their impeccable service record, but because they need perfect love. God's love. Love that strives to meet needs no matter what the cost.
In my head I have an image of Jesus (whatever he looks like) and the 'good' are surrounding Him. They are smiling and carrying their Bibles and they've got really sweet cross necklaces. You know what I'm talking about, the ones that are made out of the two little nails. Right, the crosses that remind us of what Jesus suffered. Good. I'm glad we're on the same page. The 'good' are cracking up and singing praise songs and waving their little hands in the air all around Him. He looks around at his troupe and smiles. Surrounding this group of the 'good' is another group, still His and still hopelessly cynical. They're the 'bad'. No, no, they're not the 'evil', that's different. This the group who want Jesus as much as, and if not more than, the 'good'. They want what he says to be real, tangible, and rampant in this world. They desperately want the Church to be something other than a poster-child for hypocrisy, sin, and idolatry. They want love--pure, passionate, life-changing love. God's love. Jesus' love. But look, they've been pushed out by the 'good'. Why? Look at them. They're obviously not up to par. Clearly they're against following the good old fashioned rules. Look at them. They seem to think it's okay to smoke and drink and laugh violently. God hasn't eradicated all of their sins yet. So the 'good' get together to teach the 'bad' a lesson. No love for them. Just painful truths about how they're not living up to the standard of the 'good'. They're spurned. Spurned by the 'good', those who should love the most. So the 'bad' stand on the outside. They're angry, confused, cynical, hating their brothers and sisters but trying to love Jesus. They're wounded.
And all the hand waving and loud singing of the 'good' cannot distract Jesus from the fact that His bride is broken. Raped of her unity by Pride. Accosted by Hate, Jealousy, Self-righteousness, and Fear. She plugs up Love so that it cannot escape the boundaries of her body. No one may have it, no one may receive it unless they take the right steps and say the magic words and don that cross necklace. Now you're clean! Now you're worthy of love! Congratulations. Jesus loves you now that you follow Him.
So the 'bad' stand there on the outskirts. They want Jesus, they want the New Testament church at the beginning of Acts, they want that all-consuming fire, but not at the price of fitting in with the 'good'. Screw that to hell.
Do you see what's in my head? There's just no way that perfect love holes itself up with the 'good' people because it's apparent that there are other people in the world who desperately need perfect love. Everyone needs perfect love. And I have a feeling that perfect love reaches out more for the broken, the wounded, the hopelessly cynical, the person who sins in all those ways we're so familiar with. Because they need it. Because they don't want a pat on the back for their impeccable service record, but because they need perfect love. God's love. Love that strives to meet needs no matter what the cost.
Friday, June 12, 2009
What?! Are you CRAZY?!
Things that are better than finishing your last paper/final and realizing that summer, glorious summer, is now standing in front of you, reaching out its hand and beckoning:
1. Jesus coming back.
That's pretty much all I could think of.
In other news, I'm fairly certain that the front lawn has been watered twice in the last 12 hours. Once at 5pm, and now at 5am.
So. Do you want to know why I'm awake at 5am? You can probably guess. Hint: I can absolutely assure you that I did not in fact wake up this early. Because if I woke up this early it would only be because I needed to pee really bad and I most certainly would not get on my computer when my luscious bed is calling out my name. "Alise.......Alise......guess who is warm and wonderful?"
No. I'm up and awake and buzzing because I had coffee at 12am this morning, right before I got down to business and started writing out the rest of my final. And now that everything is done (final completed and paper written) I can't find the end of quarter exhaustion in me because I have no caffeine tolerance at all. That's right, I like to keep my caffeine tolerance low. That way when I really need to stay artificially awake I only have to down one cup of coffee instead of a bazillion before I'm jittery and running around like a crazy person.
I've found that this also works with medicine. If you don't take medicines like Tylenol or Advil until you really, really need them, they'll work much more effectively. Although I'm actually more convinced that those two drugs are really placebos and we're all just suckers. Billion dollar industries strike again! Those wicked jerks.
1. Jesus coming back.
That's pretty much all I could think of.
In other news, I'm fairly certain that the front lawn has been watered twice in the last 12 hours. Once at 5pm, and now at 5am.
So. Do you want to know why I'm awake at 5am? You can probably guess. Hint: I can absolutely assure you that I did not in fact wake up this early. Because if I woke up this early it would only be because I needed to pee really bad and I most certainly would not get on my computer when my luscious bed is calling out my name. "Alise.......Alise......guess who is warm and wonderful?"
No. I'm up and awake and buzzing because I had coffee at 12am this morning, right before I got down to business and started writing out the rest of my final. And now that everything is done (final completed and paper written) I can't find the end of quarter exhaustion in me because I have no caffeine tolerance at all. That's right, I like to keep my caffeine tolerance low. That way when I really need to stay artificially awake I only have to down one cup of coffee instead of a bazillion before I'm jittery and running around like a crazy person.
I've found that this also works with medicine. If you don't take medicines like Tylenol or Advil until you really, really need them, they'll work much more effectively. Although I'm actually more convinced that those two drugs are really placebos and we're all just suckers. Billion dollar industries strike again! Those wicked jerks.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Feeling the Pinch
All my life I've observed Daylight Savings Time. I've always thought it was a weird concept, but, not being from Arizona, I went with it. I haven't really give much thought to DST, because other than the week that we spend recovering from the time change the change doesn't make too much of a difference. Every time DST has happened in my life, I've always welcomed the change, as if this next time change were the best thing ever. "All right! It's getting darker early! My favorite thing!" or "All right! More daylight! My favorite thing!" is what I'd think. But now that I really ponder DST, I feel that the summer version of things is a lot better. What is there that's better than the sun going down at 9 pm, giving me and you and everyone in between ample time to put homework off and crave summer? Not much.
Tomorrow is the final critique for my ceramics class. I went into the art building today to collect all my projects and see what I've got. It's not much, just some thrown pots that are getting increasingly better (hallelujah!), a tiny teapot (that I chipped today! Horror of horrors. I was so mad at myself), and some random things. I don't know if I really followed any of the projects that we were supposed to do. I don't feel too bad. But I was surprised at the lack of quality in my work. While I was making all of my sweet pots and bowls and teapots I felt particularly proud of my accomplishments. But I look at them now and criticize my work like there's no tomorrow. It's just....not that good. :D Nothing to be ashamed of. I take it as a sign that I'm getting better at ceramics. I hope it's a sign anyway.
Photography is next. I'm stoked for fall quarter. Taking on the Art minor is the best thing that I've ever done. True, I feel very uncreative when face to face with artistic giants and geniuses who actually have something that they want to accomplish. However, all of that is nothing. Being encouraged to think strange thoughts and make those thoughts into reality is gratifying.
Is it a waste to be really, insanely good at only one thing? Is it better to be good at one thing? Or is it better to be a little good at various things? I don't know the answer to this question. I think that in some respects this question is a little impossible to answer.
Good news: The bluejays are gone from the backyard.
PS: The Spring Quarter is almost done! This is finals week. This is the physical manifestation of relief.
Tomorrow is the final critique for my ceramics class. I went into the art building today to collect all my projects and see what I've got. It's not much, just some thrown pots that are getting increasingly better (hallelujah!), a tiny teapot (that I chipped today! Horror of horrors. I was so mad at myself), and some random things. I don't know if I really followed any of the projects that we were supposed to do. I don't feel too bad. But I was surprised at the lack of quality in my work. While I was making all of my sweet pots and bowls and teapots I felt particularly proud of my accomplishments. But I look at them now and criticize my work like there's no tomorrow. It's just....not that good. :D Nothing to be ashamed of. I take it as a sign that I'm getting better at ceramics. I hope it's a sign anyway.
Photography is next. I'm stoked for fall quarter. Taking on the Art minor is the best thing that I've ever done. True, I feel very uncreative when face to face with artistic giants and geniuses who actually have something that they want to accomplish. However, all of that is nothing. Being encouraged to think strange thoughts and make those thoughts into reality is gratifying.
Is it a waste to be really, insanely good at only one thing? Is it better to be good at one thing? Or is it better to be a little good at various things? I don't know the answer to this question. I think that in some respects this question is a little impossible to answer.
Good news: The bluejays are gone from the backyard.
PS: The Spring Quarter is almost done! This is finals week. This is the physical manifestation of relief.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Urbane Wit
Instructions:
Go to www.urbandictionary.com and type in your answer to each question in the search box, then write the definition it gives you.
1.) Your name? Alise
A-
B-
2.) Age? 20
A-
B-
C-
D-
3.) One of your best friends? Emily
A- slang term for a highly attractive and sexually intriguing individual.
B-
C-
4.) What should you be doing? Ranting
A-
5.) Favorite color? Green
A-
B-
C- A hue of color in between blue and yellow.
6.) Hometown? Bakersfield (okay, well, not really. But whatever.)
A-
7.) Month of your birthday? May
A- may is the month where teachers think that they can control a classroom but really nothing gets done and no one cares about their grades anymore. usually this happens because summer break is only 30 days away
B- The month your parents had sex in if your birthday is in February.
C- cool; sexy; hot
8.) Last person you talked to? Mom
A-
B-
9. One of your nicknames? Duck
A-
10). Day(s) you're not looking forward to this week? Wednesday
A-
11.) Now hit random on UrbanDictionary and see what comes up: T Dot
A-
B-
Go to www.urbandictionary.com and type in your answer to each question in the search box, then write the definition it gives you.
1.) Your name? Alise
A-
| The most amazing girl in the world. Men fall at her feet and worship her. She is extremely sweet but if you piss her off you better watch out. She WILL kick your ass. |
| An emo chick that cuts her calfs and goes on phycotic raids on how big of a loser she is,,,, she may also have testacles. |
2.) Age? 20
A-
| Bag of Weed, costs $20.00 dollars and is enough to make 4 fat joints. |
| the number before 21 and after 19. generally used when counting. |
| The age you stop being a teen, the year before you turn 21. |
| The old age and death of a typical anime character. |
3.) One of your best friends? Emily
A- slang term for a highly attractive and sexually intriguing individual.
B-
| If you were this girl you wouldn't want to be anyone else, because you would be the most attractive girl to walk the streets. Spending one day with her would not be enough, she is such a nice person she makes Princess Diana look like Hitler. Plus she's well into Bristo. |
| A song sung by rappers |
4.) What should you be doing? Ranting
A-
To speak agressivly about somthing. or to take your own tangent about a subject and talk for a long time in a passionate manner.
B-
C- The Poor White Persons version of RAP, in the sense that it a specific kind of spoken or written format, blending artistic expression, personal experience and politic protest and is usually written for an audience of peers in mind. Like RAP, it is an angry but non-violent form of political expression. Punk Music is to Ranting as Rap Music is to Rapping. Today, poor whites, perform Rants in pubs, pod-casts and on the Internet.B-
| To give your two cents on a subject. |
5.) Favorite color? Green
A-
| 1) marijuana 2) money 3) when somebody is hatin or bein wrong |
| Political party that never gets respect it deserves |
6.) Hometown? Bakersfield (okay, well, not really. But whatever.)
A-
With a population of nearly a half million, it is the third largest inland city in California. God knows why, it's a pretty horrible place, with summer (late May-late October) temperatures averaging in the high 90s and air quality that can practically disable you. Winter is short and usually doesn't get colder than 50 degrees in the daytime.
B- Where delionns('08 ers)come from.
B- Where delionns('08 ers)come from.
7.) Month of your birthday? May
A- may is the month where teachers think that they can control a classroom but really nothing gets done and no one cares about their grades anymore. usually this happens because summer break is only 30 days away
B- The month your parents had sex in if your birthday is in February.
C- cool; sexy; hot
8.) Last person you talked to? Mom
A-
| The woman who loves you unconditionally from birth, the one who puts her kids before herself and the one who you can always count on above everyone else. Just telling her your problems makes you feel better because mom's always know how to make it all go away. Even if you fight, know that she's just looking out for your best interests. |
| a common joke that teenagers use when they are too lame to come up with any other comeback. |
9. One of your nicknames? Duck
A-
| A duck is a wholly wonderful creature. They also say "quack" |
10). Day(s) you're not looking forward to this week? Wednesday
A-
| Often known in the Christian religion as Sunday's understudy. A generally normal day. Often called Hump Day, because of it's location in the middle of the week, and by the time Wednesday is done, the week is on a down hill roll. |
11.) Now hit random on UrbanDictionary and see what comes up: T Dot
A-
| the best place to be |
| Toronto Ontario, in Canada |
Friday, April 3, 2009
Under the Covers
"Yet another creative writing attempt! Constructive criticism always welcome."
So tonight I looked under the covers and found a speck of dust that was your body. I put my finger on that dust. It dissolved into the sweat that was on my skin. Now you’re lost somewhere inside of me, cruising around my body, mingling with the red blood cells and running away from the whites. You’re a foreign invader; they’d get you if they knew you were there.
The next morning I looked under the covers and I found nothing there. The little dust speck that was you had fled from my body. I don’t know how you escaped. I feel certain that the whites didn’t get to you. I can feel your presence in the world. But you’re not inside of me anymore. You’ve left. Maybe you left through my tear ducts, which would be an appropriate way to go. Or perhaps you left through one in a billion pores, taking a ride on the sweat train. Another appropriate way to leave.
I went to work and then to the chiropractor and then to the grocery store today. I thought about you the whole time. When I got home I had forgotten what happened. I rushed into the bedroom and threw back the covers and there was Marty, that dumb white cat you insisted on buying in July. I hissed at the cat and fake-lunged at it. He bolted from the bed and torpedoed out of the room at 100 miles per hour. I searched frantically for you on the bed but all I found was cat hair and dander. After an hour or so I remembered you were dust now.
That night I looked under the covers and found a crumb that was your body. I put you on my tongue and tasted you like I’d done so many nights before. You were chocolate and Burberry and conditioner and now you were inside of me again. I went to sleep peacefully. You were not foreign tonight. The whites would not get you.
The next morning I looked under the covers and I found Marty again. He had snuck in during the night and curled up on your pillow. I petted him and he purred his appreciation. We talked about you until my boss called and asked if I was going to come in today. I told him I was sick, which isn’t a lie, but it’s not the truth either. He told me I was going to have to get on with life soon. Marty licked me with sympathy when I hung up the phone. I wish you had told me you were leaving.
So tonight I looked under the covers and found a speck of dust that was your body. I put my finger on that dust. It dissolved into the sweat that was on my skin. Now you’re lost somewhere inside of me, cruising around my body, mingling with the red blood cells and running away from the whites. You’re a foreign invader; they’d get you if they knew you were there.
The next morning I looked under the covers and I found nothing there. The little dust speck that was you had fled from my body. I don’t know how you escaped. I feel certain that the whites didn’t get to you. I can feel your presence in the world. But you’re not inside of me anymore. You’ve left. Maybe you left through my tear ducts, which would be an appropriate way to go. Or perhaps you left through one in a billion pores, taking a ride on the sweat train. Another appropriate way to leave.
I went to work and then to the chiropractor and then to the grocery store today. I thought about you the whole time. When I got home I had forgotten what happened. I rushed into the bedroom and threw back the covers and there was Marty, that dumb white cat you insisted on buying in July. I hissed at the cat and fake-lunged at it. He bolted from the bed and torpedoed out of the room at 100 miles per hour. I searched frantically for you on the bed but all I found was cat hair and dander. After an hour or so I remembered you were dust now.
That night I looked under the covers and found a crumb that was your body. I put you on my tongue and tasted you like I’d done so many nights before. You were chocolate and Burberry and conditioner and now you were inside of me again. I went to sleep peacefully. You were not foreign tonight. The whites would not get you.
The next morning I looked under the covers and I found Marty again. He had snuck in during the night and curled up on your pillow. I petted him and he purred his appreciation. We talked about you until my boss called and asked if I was going to come in today. I told him I was sick, which isn’t a lie, but it’s not the truth either. He told me I was going to have to get on with life soon. Marty licked me with sympathy when I hung up the phone. I wish you had told me you were leaving.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Marshmallow Hands
I forget about the mountains.
When I live in Bakersfield, or in Riverside, or in Bloomington, I forget that there's a place in the world that is not crisscrossed by streets and studded by cookie cutter houses or buildings that were cool in the seventies. I forget that it is possible to be surrounded by trees. There is a place where the sky is blue, not a gray to blue gradient.
I know that the mountains aren't a simple solution to all my problems, but they defintely feel that way. After maybe a week living here I realize that life is still just as complicated, there are still just as many choices to make, that there is still just as much drama, that people still exist, and that I am not alone. But the first day or two, hmm, those days are magic. For a minute I begin to feel like God really is into beauty, that He really does care about the world, that taking care of the earth and its inhabitants is actually very, very important to Him. For some reason it is harder to feel that those things are true while living in a city (or town, whatever). These big trees are strokes in God's visual manifesto, the river is a wash of color. The sky, whether dark gray or brilliant blue, is a part of His declaration to me, to us: "This matters. The world, the people I've created. It all matters. It matters to Me." I feel this way because the world could not be this beautiful for any other reason. I guess it could all be chance. I suppose that could be a reasonable explanation. But what gets me is that it is not a magical explanation, and personally, I like a good unexplainable mystery. But I don't want to get into science or evolution or anything like that.
The world is "going green." Or, at least, certain individuals are going green and some random companies are pretending that they're green. I think that this is a very interesting and exciting phenomenon. I wish it were more about God and less about us though. Let's handle this world more carefully because God made it and we love Him, rather than Let's handle this world more carefully because we have to live here until who knows when and it'd be nice if it weren't a pile of crap. I mean, the latter way is still good, but I do naively wish that people would get their priorities straight. But I won't complain all too much.
I want to live simply. I've been holding this idea inside of me for a long time because I don't want to explain to people why I want to do it. It's not because our cities are gross and we're eating nasty things and washing ourselves in chemicals. It's because...it's because it's not convenient to live simply. Which is an ironic statement. haha. That brings me to a hard question: Should living be convenient? Should living this life be easy? Think whatever you want, and after some time I might change my mind, but currently I don't think living life should be easy. All sources and signs point to life being hard. Nature points to life being hard, God and His Word point to life being hard, most of the third world points to life being hard. It isn't easy. And yet we, as first world citizens, have all discovered that it is much more comforting to pretend life is easy and to surround ourselves with conveniences that deceive us into believing that life is easy. I know life isn't easy, but I don't believe that life isn't easy.
Do I detest the easy life? No, but I think I might need to learn to. Because I'm pretty sure that the easy life is also a very easy path to hell. It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Well that sucks, and I'm screwed. Want to know why it's so hard to evangelize your comfortable American neighbors and friends? Because it's too easy for them to believe that life isn't hard. And if they believe that life isn't hard then they won't believe that they need someone to help them get through it. And if they don't believed that they need someone to help them get through it then they'll never even think that they'll ever need Jesus to satisfy them.
When the economy started to fall and everyone started to make predictions about horrible things and when the media started to make things worse than they really were....when all of those things happened I secretly hoped that everything would fall apart. In the depths of my heart, I still hope for this.
That's not the total reason why I'd like to live simply. Living simply involves less stuff, and I've been thinking lately about all the junk I have in the rafters of our attic. Childhood memories have been sitting in boxes for three years, untouched, unusuable; memory aids for a memory that doesn't need any help. So why keep it? I don't know, it's just so ridiculously hard to get rid of things that have sentimental value. In the end it's all meaningless anyway. In the end it will be burned with fire and will be forgotten. I'll never even miss it. I don't miss it now. But then I think, maybe I don't miss it because I know it's sitting up there in the rafters, in case I need it. But why would I ever need it? Ugh, that's such a pestering thought process and I really, really hate it. I want that stuff and I don't know why. I want it and it's mine and I want to keep it. And then I think again about living simply and I then I get upset again about keeping it all.
I can't win in my head, because there's always one side that is right and the other side that is wrong. So I'm always wrong no matter what. I guess I could flip that around and say that I'm always right, but I'm usually rooting for the side that ends up being wrong.
I can't win in this post either, so I'm just going to stop torturing myself and go to bed...er, couch. Maybe it'll all work out in my sleep and life will be better tomorrow.
When I live in Bakersfield, or in Riverside, or in Bloomington, I forget that there's a place in the world that is not crisscrossed by streets and studded by cookie cutter houses or buildings that were cool in the seventies. I forget that it is possible to be surrounded by trees. There is a place where the sky is blue, not a gray to blue gradient.
I know that the mountains aren't a simple solution to all my problems, but they defintely feel that way. After maybe a week living here I realize that life is still just as complicated, there are still just as many choices to make, that there is still just as much drama, that people still exist, and that I am not alone. But the first day or two, hmm, those days are magic. For a minute I begin to feel like God really is into beauty, that He really does care about the world, that taking care of the earth and its inhabitants is actually very, very important to Him. For some reason it is harder to feel that those things are true while living in a city (or town, whatever). These big trees are strokes in God's visual manifesto, the river is a wash of color. The sky, whether dark gray or brilliant blue, is a part of His declaration to me, to us: "This matters. The world, the people I've created. It all matters. It matters to Me." I feel this way because the world could not be this beautiful for any other reason. I guess it could all be chance. I suppose that could be a reasonable explanation. But what gets me is that it is not a magical explanation, and personally, I like a good unexplainable mystery. But I don't want to get into science or evolution or anything like that.
The world is "going green." Or, at least, certain individuals are going green and some random companies are pretending that they're green. I think that this is a very interesting and exciting phenomenon. I wish it were more about God and less about us though. Let's handle this world more carefully because God made it and we love Him, rather than Let's handle this world more carefully because we have to live here until who knows when and it'd be nice if it weren't a pile of crap. I mean, the latter way is still good, but I do naively wish that people would get their priorities straight. But I won't complain all too much.
I want to live simply. I've been holding this idea inside of me for a long time because I don't want to explain to people why I want to do it. It's not because our cities are gross and we're eating nasty things and washing ourselves in chemicals. It's because...it's because it's not convenient to live simply. Which is an ironic statement. haha. That brings me to a hard question: Should living be convenient? Should living this life be easy? Think whatever you want, and after some time I might change my mind, but currently I don't think living life should be easy. All sources and signs point to life being hard. Nature points to life being hard, God and His Word point to life being hard, most of the third world points to life being hard. It isn't easy. And yet we, as first world citizens, have all discovered that it is much more comforting to pretend life is easy and to surround ourselves with conveniences that deceive us into believing that life is easy. I know life isn't easy, but I don't believe that life isn't easy.
Do I detest the easy life? No, but I think I might need to learn to. Because I'm pretty sure that the easy life is also a very easy path to hell. It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Well that sucks, and I'm screwed. Want to know why it's so hard to evangelize your comfortable American neighbors and friends? Because it's too easy for them to believe that life isn't hard. And if they believe that life isn't hard then they won't believe that they need someone to help them get through it. And if they don't believed that they need someone to help them get through it then they'll never even think that they'll ever need Jesus to satisfy them.
When the economy started to fall and everyone started to make predictions about horrible things and when the media started to make things worse than they really were....when all of those things happened I secretly hoped that everything would fall apart. In the depths of my heart, I still hope for this.
That's not the total reason why I'd like to live simply. Living simply involves less stuff, and I've been thinking lately about all the junk I have in the rafters of our attic. Childhood memories have been sitting in boxes for three years, untouched, unusuable; memory aids for a memory that doesn't need any help. So why keep it? I don't know, it's just so ridiculously hard to get rid of things that have sentimental value. In the end it's all meaningless anyway. In the end it will be burned with fire and will be forgotten. I'll never even miss it. I don't miss it now. But then I think, maybe I don't miss it because I know it's sitting up there in the rafters, in case I need it. But why would I ever need it? Ugh, that's such a pestering thought process and I really, really hate it. I want that stuff and I don't know why. I want it and it's mine and I want to keep it. And then I think again about living simply and I then I get upset again about keeping it all.
I can't win in my head, because there's always one side that is right and the other side that is wrong. So I'm always wrong no matter what. I guess I could flip that around and say that I'm always right, but I'm usually rooting for the side that ends up being wrong.
I can't win in this post either, so I'm just going to stop torturing myself and go to bed...er, couch. Maybe it'll all work out in my sleep and life will be better tomorrow.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
My Dinner: Medicated Chest Rub
Ewww, gross.
Don't judge, it's how I feel.
Anywho, I don't have to go to school tomorrow! Jealous? Don't be, I still have to complete two essays and create a portfolio, all of which are due on Thursday. So it's not like I get a break or anything. Not until Friday....that's when it will be time to drive up to the mountains and enjoy a good sublime landscape or two. The best that the Sierra Nevadas have the offer. Hurrah!
Now I will take this time to let you all in on a little secret that has been eluding me for years: Sleep is important.
Yep, betcha didn't see that one coming. But it's absolutely true and very helpful to apply seriously to. My dad and I were talking today about how we don't like to go to bed. I love to sleep, and I love the feeling of snuggling in bed for a while when I wake up. But for some reason going to bed at a reasonable hour (i.e. Not three in the morning) just makes my heart revolt. I can't figure out why this is, the closest I come to explaining the feeling is I just suppose I really don't want to miss something. Which is really ridiculous because what exactly is happening in my house past the hour of 10? If you guessed "Nothing" then you are the lucky winner! Collect ten points. Of course, sometimes I'm not home at a reasonable hour, and I have only my friends to blame for this. :D Actually, I just need more self-control, but whatever way you want to look at the situation, it's probably their fault. I kid, I kid.
Anyway. Perhaps, to put it in my dad's terminology, I should make the 'life choice' to go to bed at a regular time and get a regular amount of sleep. In this situation the benefits really do outweigh the costs.
Don't judge, it's how I feel.
Anywho, I don't have to go to school tomorrow! Jealous? Don't be, I still have to complete two essays and create a portfolio, all of which are due on Thursday. So it's not like I get a break or anything. Not until Friday....that's when it will be time to drive up to the mountains and enjoy a good sublime landscape or two. The best that the Sierra Nevadas have the offer. Hurrah!
Now I will take this time to let you all in on a little secret that has been eluding me for years: Sleep is important.
Yep, betcha didn't see that one coming. But it's absolutely true and very helpful to apply seriously to. My dad and I were talking today about how we don't like to go to bed. I love to sleep, and I love the feeling of snuggling in bed for a while when I wake up. But for some reason going to bed at a reasonable hour (i.e. Not three in the morning) just makes my heart revolt. I can't figure out why this is, the closest I come to explaining the feeling is I just suppose I really don't want to miss something. Which is really ridiculous because what exactly is happening in my house past the hour of 10? If you guessed "Nothing" then you are the lucky winner! Collect ten points. Of course, sometimes I'm not home at a reasonable hour, and I have only my friends to blame for this. :D Actually, I just need more self-control, but whatever way you want to look at the situation, it's probably their fault. I kid, I kid.
Anyway. Perhaps, to put it in my dad's terminology, I should make the 'life choice' to go to bed at a regular time and get a regular amount of sleep. In this situation the benefits really do outweigh the costs.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Writing Helps From Masters
I have great respect for Mr. Vonnegut, but only because I read Slaughterhouse-Five and liked it. After SH-5 I ventured into the pages of Breakfast of Champions and was not altogether pleased. Maybe my high school brain didn' t get it (I've been discovering that lately...my high school brain was kind of lame in the broken sense of the word). But I also couldn't get into Timequake....so maybe there's a trend there. I guess I should read more and make a more informed decision. But none of this matters because what I'm really trying to say is that Vonnegut has some interesting things to say to writers (and to readers if they care to look at things backwards).
1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
4. Every sentence must do one of two things—reveal character or advance the action.
5. Start as close to the end as possible.
6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them—in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.
The greatest American short story writer of my generation was Flannery O’Connor (1925-1964). She broke practically every one of my rules but the first. Great writers tend to do that.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Death and Sadness
Last night my puppy died. I wasn't there at the time, but I did see her be in pain for the whole weekend. She would hold her little stomach in and tense all her muscles as if thinking that if she rolled into a small enough ball all the pain would go away. There are not many things more affecting or pathetic as watching, or holding, a sick dog. They are so fragile and heartbreaking. When I came home that night I sat up with my mom for a while just crying and reminiscing over the very, very short life of this puppy. She was so sweet, playful and good. I can't believe how well-behaved and lovely she was. I've never been so attached to a dog before. She was my dog. I loved her and she loved me and we would snuggle together or chase each other around the house or play catch for hours as if no one else but us existed.
As my mom and I sat crying on the couch, huddled together and remembering Sophie's beautiful brown eyes that never conveyed much intelligence, but were incredibly sweet and loving just the same, my mom said, "If this is what losing an animal feels like, imagine how hard losing a human would be." I don't dare to think about this too much. There have been times in my life when I think about what it would be like to not be able to see, touch, smell, or hear the people that I love. The emotions that rise from those thoughts are excruciatingly sad and painful. These feelings just remind me of how unnecessary death is; how we're not made to feel death, to experience grief and loss. We're meant to be whole and fulfilled with the love of God and with the love of those around us. People always talk about the things that humankind lost at the fall. They speak of how we lost innocence and good choices and gained diseases, pain, wrong decisions, grief. We talk about how we gained death and lost life and we say it so matter-of-fact, sometimes without feeling the devastation of such a loss.
How could they have known? How could Adam and Eve have known what terrible things lay in wait for the future? How could beings born into goodness known of anything other than goodness or innocence? It's hard to get mad at them for being idiots when I think that they didn't know that they were choosing between good and bad, for all they knew they were choosing between good and and even greater good that God was holding back from them. They were naive and innocent and those qualities were ultimately destructive, which is very poetic and achingly sad. We like that don't we? We like it when beauty and innocence and goodness are corrupted and then redeemed. We like those things because they mirror humankind's own tragicomic story. It's tragic because the beginning is so terrible, but comic because it ends in a marriage, a love-match.
I can't say that I blame people for telling their kids that dogs go to a better place when they die, because it's such a comforting thought thinking that you'll someday meet up with your beloved companion again just as you'll meet up with other people who are just as dear, if not more so.
As my mom and I sat crying on the couch, huddled together and remembering Sophie's beautiful brown eyes that never conveyed much intelligence, but were incredibly sweet and loving just the same, my mom said, "If this is what losing an animal feels like, imagine how hard losing a human would be." I don't dare to think about this too much. There have been times in my life when I think about what it would be like to not be able to see, touch, smell, or hear the people that I love. The emotions that rise from those thoughts are excruciatingly sad and painful. These feelings just remind me of how unnecessary death is; how we're not made to feel death, to experience grief and loss. We're meant to be whole and fulfilled with the love of God and with the love of those around us. People always talk about the things that humankind lost at the fall. They speak of how we lost innocence and good choices and gained diseases, pain, wrong decisions, grief. We talk about how we gained death and lost life and we say it so matter-of-fact, sometimes without feeling the devastation of such a loss.
How could they have known? How could Adam and Eve have known what terrible things lay in wait for the future? How could beings born into goodness known of anything other than goodness or innocence? It's hard to get mad at them for being idiots when I think that they didn't know that they were choosing between good and bad, for all they knew they were choosing between good and and even greater good that God was holding back from them. They were naive and innocent and those qualities were ultimately destructive, which is very poetic and achingly sad. We like that don't we? We like it when beauty and innocence and goodness are corrupted and then redeemed. We like those things because they mirror humankind's own tragicomic story. It's tragic because the beginning is so terrible, but comic because it ends in a marriage, a love-match.
I can't say that I blame people for telling their kids that dogs go to a better place when they die, because it's such a comforting thought thinking that you'll someday meet up with your beloved companion again just as you'll meet up with other people who are just as dear, if not more so.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Be Agressive To Your Cat
Read more books. Watch more movies. Write more awesome observations about people and their lives. Do all of these things and live in a drugged up daze of self/world-reflection. Then life will be truly wonderful and not at all cheapened by actually living it.
Usually around this hour, 3am, my cat will come into my room and rub her face against my computer. This is one of the things that I find most irritating in life, although I couldn't tell you rightly why. Probably from selfishness. Or maybe I'm just not a fan of cats. This one is pretty fluffy, which makes up for her being obnoxious.
There is slight, subtle intrigue to the life of a good-girl. Someone who isn't involved in this particular way of living might think that it is very dull. But I feel that thinking about things before making a decision is a very exhilarating way to live. The consequences are much more real and less predictable, which is ironic because the consequences, when thought about, are usually as predictable as a piece of carpet. Crafting theories about how life appears to work only becomes interesting when one puts them into practice. I'm all about philosophizing about life, but it means nothing if no one is willing to act on said philosophies. So what is the problem of this? There always has to be a problem, because pessimists always like to ruin everything. The problem of this is that even though we might be able to see some possibilities of consequences, we can't see them all, and running the risk of acting on a philosophy and then getting a horrible consequence is like playing russian roulette only better. Why is it better? I was just getting there. It's better because with russian roulette you're dead and don't have to deal with your problems and with life you're not dead (obviously) and have to deal with the problems that acting on a theory presesnts.
Everyone does this. It's just like life. We make choices thinking one thing and more often then not our thoughts turn out to be very, very wrong and make us very, very sorry. And at the moment we think, "CRAP, I'm screwed! Life is going to suck now because I made a bad choice." But really, it's just a growing opportunity, which every sophomore realizes when they finally take the Great Look Back and see that all the dumb things they did taught them something and made them into the person that they are today.
How cute. Isn't hindsight quintessentially quaint? A perfect ending that rests on the foundations of a faulty beginning. We like to think this way because it creates drama and tension and we love for our lives to be a story that people will want to listen to. For such hopeless pessimists we can sure be really hopeful optimists.
Living life is heady. It's a drug, an endless game of russian roulette. Will our choices be correct, or will be they terribly wrong? Throw up your hands, shrug your shoulders and declare WHO KNOWS?! Let's do it anyway!
Here's the intrigue of the good-girl: She breaks too many hearts. She's too amazing. Her exterior is shiny and new and is made of intelligent foam that molds to the countours of your body. What could be better? But she can only have one, and it has to be the right one. There's no way of telling which one that is unless there's knowledge. And knowledge, especially now, is painful to extract, painful to hold, and painful to let go of in favor of some other knowledge. And the shiny, new, intelligent foam good-girl longs to find a shiny, new, intelligent foam good-boy who, when she rests against his intelligent foam body, will not push his shape into hers, but will meet her shape and uphold it while she meets and upholds his. And they will be like two boxes pushed next to each other. No depressions, no indents, no parts sticking out and jutting into the countours of the other box. Just straight lines that rest against each other and stay straight.
We don't need to change. We just need to morph into one another. Two become one flesh. There is beauty in that. Why else would we like mixing colors so much?
Usually around this hour, 3am, my cat will come into my room and rub her face against my computer. This is one of the things that I find most irritating in life, although I couldn't tell you rightly why. Probably from selfishness. Or maybe I'm just not a fan of cats. This one is pretty fluffy, which makes up for her being obnoxious.
There is slight, subtle intrigue to the life of a good-girl. Someone who isn't involved in this particular way of living might think that it is very dull. But I feel that thinking about things before making a decision is a very exhilarating way to live. The consequences are much more real and less predictable, which is ironic because the consequences, when thought about, are usually as predictable as a piece of carpet. Crafting theories about how life appears to work only becomes interesting when one puts them into practice. I'm all about philosophizing about life, but it means nothing if no one is willing to act on said philosophies. So what is the problem of this? There always has to be a problem, because pessimists always like to ruin everything. The problem of this is that even though we might be able to see some possibilities of consequences, we can't see them all, and running the risk of acting on a philosophy and then getting a horrible consequence is like playing russian roulette only better. Why is it better? I was just getting there. It's better because with russian roulette you're dead and don't have to deal with your problems and with life you're not dead (obviously) and have to deal with the problems that acting on a theory presesnts.
Everyone does this. It's just like life. We make choices thinking one thing and more often then not our thoughts turn out to be very, very wrong and make us very, very sorry. And at the moment we think, "CRAP, I'm screwed! Life is going to suck now because I made a bad choice." But really, it's just a growing opportunity, which every sophomore realizes when they finally take the Great Look Back and see that all the dumb things they did taught them something and made them into the person that they are today.
How cute. Isn't hindsight quintessentially quaint? A perfect ending that rests on the foundations of a faulty beginning. We like to think this way because it creates drama and tension and we love for our lives to be a story that people will want to listen to. For such hopeless pessimists we can sure be really hopeful optimists.
Living life is heady. It's a drug, an endless game of russian roulette. Will our choices be correct, or will be they terribly wrong? Throw up your hands, shrug your shoulders and declare WHO KNOWS?! Let's do it anyway!
Here's the intrigue of the good-girl: She breaks too many hearts. She's too amazing. Her exterior is shiny and new and is made of intelligent foam that molds to the countours of your body. What could be better? But she can only have one, and it has to be the right one. There's no way of telling which one that is unless there's knowledge. And knowledge, especially now, is painful to extract, painful to hold, and painful to let go of in favor of some other knowledge. And the shiny, new, intelligent foam good-girl longs to find a shiny, new, intelligent foam good-boy who, when she rests against his intelligent foam body, will not push his shape into hers, but will meet her shape and uphold it while she meets and upholds his. And they will be like two boxes pushed next to each other. No depressions, no indents, no parts sticking out and jutting into the countours of the other box. Just straight lines that rest against each other and stay straight.
We don't need to change. We just need to morph into one another. Two become one flesh. There is beauty in that. Why else would we like mixing colors so much?
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
A Group of Worms Were Hypothetically Speaking...
Have you ever met someone and then parted ways, only to discover that when they are gone you feel like something is missing? Hmmm, that's really vague. Let me clarify.
Things I'm not talking about: I'm not talking about significant relationships, but rather trivial ones that meant next to nothing and were more like acquaintance than friendships.
Things I am talking about: People that I've known only briefly, but wished I could have known them for longer or better. There are people that are mysteries. A person can be a mystery and then after I've spent a day or so with them they are not a mystery anymore. That's okay. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about when I spend a day with a person, or maybe two days, and I think back on the time and on their personality and on their actions and I think to myself, "I still know next to nothing about this person." (Random fact: Next to nothing is one of my favorite cliches. I just decided that right now. It's very poetic)
I was trouping around the 'Space a bit looking at old friend's pages and I came across a guy who I knew a while back, but who I didn't know very well. A keen sense of loss enveloped me as I looked at his page and read some of the comments his friends had left him. I felt like I had lost a potential friend....even though he had never been a friend in the first place.
Things I'm not talking about: I'm not talking about significant relationships, but rather trivial ones that meant next to nothing and were more like acquaintance than friendships.
Things I am talking about: People that I've known only briefly, but wished I could have known them for longer or better. There are people that are mysteries. A person can be a mystery and then after I've spent a day or so with them they are not a mystery anymore. That's okay. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about when I spend a day with a person, or maybe two days, and I think back on the time and on their personality and on their actions and I think to myself, "I still know next to nothing about this person." (Random fact: Next to nothing is one of my favorite cliches. I just decided that right now. It's very poetic)
I was trouping around the 'Space a bit looking at old friend's pages and I came across a guy who I knew a while back, but who I didn't know very well. A keen sense of loss enveloped me as I looked at his page and read some of the comments his friends had left him. I felt like I had lost a potential friend....even though he had never been a friend in the first place.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
So today I was really thinking about doing things and taking action because I believe In God and believe that he's telling me to do such things (which sounds really vague...) One of the things God has been talking to me about lately is serving other people and putting their needs and interests before myself. I get so sick of the realization of how self-absorbed I can be. Sometimes when I'm writing I count up how many sentences start with I and I get really frustrated. But that's not my point! Anyway, as I was at one store I walked to my car and thought, what if I parked as far away from the store as possible, so that the other drivers could have a better choice of parking spots. At first this sounded kind of idiotic to me, but then as I thought about it more, it began to seem like a good way to put other people first. I mean how often do we get excited when we see a parking spot that is super close to the store? Always, especially when it's raining or really hot. So why should I get that parking spot before anyone else. Does that sound really nitpicky and ridiculous? I don't know....it's the little things I guess. It's good to have little things to work on and triumph over. Makes me feel like I'm accomplishing something.
I have a question for you. You said earlier that you have a hard time realizing that Christ is the son of God. Why is that? I was reading a book the other day (Blue Like Jazz-Donald Miller) and he was describing a couple of situations where some people he knew were about to accept Christ but were going through a period of trying to figure out if they really believed that Christ was God's son. When I read about those struggles, about those people truly grappling with the idea that Christ was the son of God I felt a little left out, because I've never thought about it before. I don't know for sure, but I imagine it's because I've heard it all my life: Jesus is God's son, Jesus is God's son, etc. I hear that this is a crazy thing for Jesus to have said, that He was God's son....but it is just all very normal to me, kind of like waking up and being able to walk-you don't think about it, it just is.
Have you ever thought about how stunning it would be to completely give your life over to one belief? :D Obviously that's what we say we do with God. Why is Christian spirituality so difficult? I just looked over at some movies in my room and saw Braveheart which made me think about being totally sold out to just one belief and giving up everything else, safety, security, comfort for the sake of it. I know I'm repeated about a million different people. Every time I think about being totally sold out to God I feel like I'm standing on this huge cliff and I've just been told to fly. Adrenaline rushes in and there's the crazy feeling you get right before you do something that you know isn't really all that rational or smart or that you know might get you hurt. It's just a decision away, flying with God. If you ask me this whole walking with God business is very mundane. It should be motorcycling with God, flying with God, white water rafting with God....something that if you get off track and aren't in the hands of a master you would be in a really really dangerous situation, much more dangerous than if you had stayed with him. I like those metaphor better.
That was a bit of a tangent! Great!
I have a question for you. You said earlier that you have a hard time realizing that Christ is the son of God. Why is that? I was reading a book the other day (Blue Like Jazz-Donald Miller) and he was describing a couple of situations where some people he knew were about to accept Christ but were going through a period of trying to figure out if they really believed that Christ was God's son. When I read about those struggles, about those people truly grappling with the idea that Christ was the son of God I felt a little left out, because I've never thought about it before. I don't know for sure, but I imagine it's because I've heard it all my life: Jesus is God's son, Jesus is God's son, etc. I hear that this is a crazy thing for Jesus to have said, that He was God's son....but it is just all very normal to me, kind of like waking up and being able to walk-you don't think about it, it just is.
Have you ever thought about how stunning it would be to completely give your life over to one belief? :D Obviously that's what we say we do with God. Why is Christian spirituality so difficult? I just looked over at some movies in my room and saw Braveheart which made me think about being totally sold out to just one belief and giving up everything else, safety, security, comfort for the sake of it. I know I'm repeated about a million different people. Every time I think about being totally sold out to God I feel like I'm standing on this huge cliff and I've just been told to fly. Adrenaline rushes in and there's the crazy feeling you get right before you do something that you know isn't really all that rational or smart or that you know might get you hurt. It's just a decision away, flying with God. If you ask me this whole walking with God business is very mundane. It should be motorcycling with God, flying with God, white water rafting with God....something that if you get off track and aren't in the hands of a master you would be in a really really dangerous situation, much more dangerous than if you had stayed with him. I like those metaphor better.
That was a bit of a tangent! Great!
Friday, February 27, 2009
Reading a Book for Pleasure
I have to be careful about reading. During the quarter, especially this quarter, there's been so much to read literature-wise, and it tends to eat up whole days of time, daring you to get behind in the schedule so it can devour your weekend. Anytime I pick up a book that it not on my scholastic reading list I have to be careful not to get too into it or I'll take all my time reading that book and ignoring my scholarly duties.
I started reading Donald Miller's Blue Like Jazz maybe two weeks ago and it's taken over my life. Not because I'm reading it all the time, but because I'm thinking about it all the time. I've been thinking about the nature of belief...why I believe the things that I do. I'm not necessarily doubting what I do believe because it seems implausible, I hope I'm done with intellectual faith crises (hopefully...), I just keep wondering if I really do believe it. Because if I did believe it wholeheartedly I'd probably.....do better. I don' t know, I lost my train of thought.
Anyway, I've also been thinking about whether I care about people or if I'm just super duper selfish and don't consider anything other than myself. I'm self-absorbed. I realize it and it's beginning to cause me pain, little pinpricks of pain. The trouble is, whenever I try to do anything to not be self-absorbed, I end up being more self-absorbed than I was before. Or at least just tumbling back into that valley. I can't do it.
Obviously there's hope for me. And we all know the right answers.
Another thing: Miller was talking about grace and how a lot of the time he felt like he was above grace because he wasn't a "charity case." When he said this I balked, because that's how I feel 100% of the time. I'm okay, really, my problems aren't that deep. I haven't murdered anyone yet so I'm doing pretty good. My pride is eating me up. I don't need charity God, I'm doing okay. But I'm not doing okay. Because if God didn't give grace to me I'd be going to hell because I sin and do evil things. I can't accept grace because I don't want to go to hell and then refuse further grace because now I think I'm okay and "good enough."
The next step is weird. I don't know how these concepts can be real. God feels nebulous most of the time. There are moments that I know He's real because I can absolutely see His work and feel His love very clearly. But then there are other moments, moments that feel just as real, when my heart is hard and cold and question whether or not He's there at all. It's weird to me how I can go from absolutely knowing He's there to almost completely denying it. Am I that shifty on other things as well? Or is it only with God?
Just some things I've been thinking about.
I started reading Donald Miller's Blue Like Jazz maybe two weeks ago and it's taken over my life. Not because I'm reading it all the time, but because I'm thinking about it all the time. I've been thinking about the nature of belief...why I believe the things that I do. I'm not necessarily doubting what I do believe because it seems implausible, I hope I'm done with intellectual faith crises (hopefully...), I just keep wondering if I really do believe it. Because if I did believe it wholeheartedly I'd probably.....do better. I don' t know, I lost my train of thought.
Anyway, I've also been thinking about whether I care about people or if I'm just super duper selfish and don't consider anything other than myself. I'm self-absorbed. I realize it and it's beginning to cause me pain, little pinpricks of pain. The trouble is, whenever I try to do anything to not be self-absorbed, I end up being more self-absorbed than I was before. Or at least just tumbling back into that valley. I can't do it.
Obviously there's hope for me. And we all know the right answers.
Another thing: Miller was talking about grace and how a lot of the time he felt like he was above grace because he wasn't a "charity case." When he said this I balked, because that's how I feel 100% of the time. I'm okay, really, my problems aren't that deep. I haven't murdered anyone yet so I'm doing pretty good. My pride is eating me up. I don't need charity God, I'm doing okay. But I'm not doing okay. Because if God didn't give grace to me I'd be going to hell because I sin and do evil things. I can't accept grace because I don't want to go to hell and then refuse further grace because now I think I'm okay and "good enough."
The next step is weird. I don't know how these concepts can be real. God feels nebulous most of the time. There are moments that I know He's real because I can absolutely see His work and feel His love very clearly. But then there are other moments, moments that feel just as real, when my heart is hard and cold and question whether or not He's there at all. It's weird to me how I can go from absolutely knowing He's there to almost completely denying it. Am I that shifty on other things as well? Or is it only with God?
Just some things I've been thinking about.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
