Only the Curious have Something to Find

2007-07-03T18:36:00.000-07:00

The Old Testament tradition was not exactly child-centred: "The stick and the reprimand bestow wisdom… Correct your son and he will delight your soul." (Proverbs 29) The Gospels (Matthew 18, 1-10; Mk 9, 35-37) give us a precious glimpse of how Jesus related to children. He gave them time, and touch, and urged the disciples: "Change, and become like little children." Why is theirs the kingdom of heaven? Perhaps because of their sense of wonder, their readiness to be unnoticed, their acceptance of dependence on those who love them. They know what it is to be told off, corrected, punished - and mostly take it in their stride. They are constantly challenged in learning, ready to tackle more new things; they know they have a future and look forward to it. (http://www.sacredspace.ie/)

How can I help applying this to all that I've felt and thought and prayed about this weekend? Our faith is not just to cover and comfort us in the little things of life: what job we take, what we buy, whether or not we ask for forgiveness when we screw up. The simplicity of our faith demands that it apply equally to everything we face in this designed-to-be-temporary life: including life's end. If I truly believe God is in charge, then he must be in charge of everything, no exceptions. The challenge then is to bring this child-like faith to the table, to rest so fully in God's hands that the frustration of trying to understand what we can't just melts away.

Reading Break Down South (you'd never guess but they got tornadoes today)

2007-03-01T17:03:00.000-08:00

2007-02-22T12:24:00.000-08:00

By the way I'd like to mention it's a balmy oh say...22 degrees at least! and the sun is shining and I'm getting a tan and seeing the capital of Montgomery AB later on today. This is fantastic, and by far my best reading break of all time :)

2007-02-22T11:43:00.000-08:00

I hope I never allow my fear of the unknown stand in the way of my doing something. This morning, I was thinking about how short and small my life is, in the grand scheme of eternity. It just made me think about the day when I am going to meet Jesus face to face and explain to him why I did or didn't obey him when he asked me to do something. That made me wonder if I'll look back at my time here and see it as full of decisions, big and small, that I made in favor of Jesus' call on my heart and plan for my life. Or on the flip side, if I'll see my efforts to follow him as half-hearted and shallow.

In Psalm 42, the Psalmist says, "My soul is downcast . . . deep calls to deep, in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me . . . By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me -- a prayer to the God of my life . . . Why are you so downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Saviour and my God."

In Jonah's prayer from inside the whale, some these words are echoed, "In my distress I called to the Lord, and he answered me. From the depths of the grave I called for help, and you listened to my cry. You hurled me into the deep, into the very heart of the seas, and the currents swirled about me; all your waves and breakers swept over me. I said, 'I have been banished from your sight; yet I will look again toward your holy temple'".

Both of these men recognized that outside of God's plan and commands, they were as lost as if they had been thrown into the sea to drown. Both recognize that within an obedient life to God one will find all the comfort and strength necessary to face anything they are asked to do.

Jude 1 says that godless men are "blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm—shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted—twice dead. They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever".

It's a poetic way of saying be godly! Strive for obedience, devotion and selflessness in everything I choose to do and even in the act of choosing!

"If I Stand"

2007-02-10T12:50:00.000-08:00

There's more that rises in the morning than the sun
And more that shines in the night than just the moon
There's more than just this fire here that keeps me warm
In a shelter that is larger than this room

And there's a loyalty that's deeper than mere sentiment
And a music higher than the songs that I can sing
Stuff of Earth competes for the allegiance
I owe only to the Giver of all good things

So if I stand let me stand on the promise that you will pull me through
And if I can't, let me fall on the grace that first brought me to You
So if I sing let me sing for the joy that has born in me these songs
And if I weep let it be as a man who is longing for his home

And there's more that dances on the prairies than the wind
And more that pulses in the ocean than the tide
There's a love that's fiercer than the love between friends
More gentle than a mother's when her baby's at her side

And there's a loyalty that's deeper than mere sentiments
And a music higher than the songs that I can sing
The stuff of Earth competes for the allegiance
I owe only to the Giver of all good things

So if I stand let me stand on the promise that You will pull me through
And if I can't let me fall on the grace that first brought me to You
And if I sing let me sing for the joy that has born in me these songs
And if I weep let it be as a man who is longing for his home

And if I weep let it be as a man who is longing for home

A good reminder that:
~one owes their best efforts at the work of life to the approval of only one person
~there is more, never less, to one's existence when it is defined by a true relationship with God

2007-02-03T07:41:00.000-08:00

Last night, after nineteen years of subconscious puzzling, I figured out that "to take a leaf out of someone's book" or to "turn a new leaf" refers, of course, to a new and blank page in a notebook.

Leaf-sheet--same thing??

I didn't know that.

Limiting? or Liberating?

2007-02-03T07:07:00.000-08:00

"How refreshing to know You don't need me
How amazing to know that You want me . . . "
~Casting Crowns

I always used to think Jesus left us an impossible amount of rules to follow, that my life as a Christian would be this exhausting and unfinished checklist. The longer I live, the more I realize his rules are utterly liberating to follow. The comparison of sin to chains is so appropriate. Sin is manifested in the burdens of stress, conflict and care--burdens that God will lift if we follow his instructions. A few I've been reminding myself of . . .

1. Don't work on the Sabbath.
aka:
Rest your mind and your body. Dig deep into God's word and will so you are ready to start another week. Spend time with those you care about. Pray and confess your sins. Enter into God's presence at your church willingly, knowing God is waiting to meet you there. Enjoy the community God has placed around you to do the same.

*Why am I ever tempted not to take God up on this offer?

2. Do not judge others.
aka:
You do not need to concern yourself with what others think of you, only what God thinks of you. Follow your conscience and the guidance you receive (from godly people), for no one else is called to answer for your actions but you. Tend to your own little plot in life, for you will also not be asked to present the fruits of another's garden at the end of time, only the results of your own labor.

*I often forget this one works both ways--just as I am not to judge and change others, so I am not to take the judgments of others too deeply to heart, unless pride is all that stands between me and their being quite right.

3. Do not worry.

This frees you to enjoy your life one day at a time, drinking in every blessing, however small. When you step back, you will begin to see God's hand working in your life to unfold his plan for you. So unclench those fingers and leave your life in the more capable hands of the one who created it. If he can calm the waves of the sea and keep the planets aligned, he can take care of you.

*When God says he has my best interests in mind, he means it. He truly does work through everything for the good of those who love him. If only it were so easy to put these in practice--it's so exciting to think of a day when we'll be able to rest and all this will come naturally to us!

Vocally Vicious

2007-02-01T11:37:00.000-08:00

I never used to understand why my parents criticize my tendency to be brassy and opinionated. I'm starting to see why. It got to the point where I was deafened to reason and verbally squashed other people whenever I was right about something.

Jesus wasn't afraid to come across as controversial or abrasive in his dealings with the leaders of the Jewish community. Yet the enduring image I am left with after reading the NT is one of a gentle, quiet leader filled with an intentional spirit of love and careful discipline. It is such a different image from the one I present when I preach from the hilltops about something I believe and even know to be true.

What I'm saying is, I fully respect anyone who can take a strong view on an issue and clearly articulate why they stand for one thing or another. In fact, I'm all for that because it inspires healthy communication and helps one clarify fuzzy thoughts. What troubles me is the tiny little cheerleader inside who goes bananas when an argument or debate is settled in my favor. I get this secret thrill when I know the person opposite me cannot possibly deny what I say is correct. I love being right. As a result, I have an inexcusable tendency to drink deep from the tap of self-satisfied pride.

Looking over that thought process, I see I have no cause to get that way. Truly, what is one thing I have done or said that someone else before me hasn't already come up with? In short, there are far more talented and intelligent people than myself out there. Even if there wasn't, I could still not claim to find a spark of original perfection in anything I've ever accomplished that didn't come from God himself.

So next time I get on my high horse, I'll remember that the only time Jesus rode horseback was days before he planned to die on the cross for the sins of all humanity. Now that is something worthy of praise.

PS. for the Psych buffs among the bloggers and readers, this ability we have to think about thinking marks the formal operational stage in our development, which is characterized by introspective thinking. :) So now you'll pass Psych 225.

Good ol' country sense.

2007-01-30T20:33:00.000-08:00

'Yes, Geoffrey Day is a clever man if ever there was one. Never says anything: not he."
"Never."
"You might live wi' that man, my sonnies, a hundred years and never know there was anything in him."
"Ay; one o' these up-country London ink-bottle chaps would call Geoffrey a fool."
"Ye never find out what's in that man: never . . . Close? ah, he is close! He can hold his tongue well. That man's dumbness is wonderful to listen to."
"There's so much sense in it. Every moment of it is brimmen over wi' sound understanding."
"'A can hold his tongue very clever -- very clever truly . . . 'A do look at me as if 'a could see my thoughts running around like the works of a clock."

~Under the Greenwood Tree, Thomas Hardy

To Ponder

2007-01-30T19:14:00.000-08:00

Is there a connection between the amount of stuff we own and our tendency to
a) feel tense or stressed
b) worry a lot
and/or
c) develop insatiable greed

2007-01-29T20:50:00.000-08:00

The first sentence in Joseph Andrews reads, "It is a trite but true observation, that examples work more forcibly on the mind than precepts: And if this be just in what is odious and blameable, it is more strongly so in what is amiable in praise-worthy." Mmmmm. Yawn. Coffee, please.

Even though it makes a horrible opening line if you're trying to grip the racing modern mind, after reflecting a bit I give Fielding credit for a good observation. Reading books like Pride and Prejudice, Little Women, or A Little Princess just make me want to become this godly, demure, gentle and quiet woman. It's a nice thought, but I don't really think it's possible. Try as I might to become the epitome of soft femininity, I don't envision myself succeeding in the near future.

Anyway, I am now about five pages from finishing the book! I have folded down pages in the last few chapters with little nuggets of wisdom or humor that I want to jot down. I guess that qualifies me as a nerd, once more. Also, the plot has taken several tricky and unexpected twists that have me quite pleased. I want to write this novel into life as a script, just so I can be the old hag of an aunt who tries to keep the happy lovers from being wed. It would be so much sharp-tongued-fun and such a prickly little role to get into.

Read it if you have a week on your hands.

My head's in the sand and it's so warm.

2007-01-24T13:03:00.000-08:00

Psalm 40, Luke 4

When voices clamour daily for help, should we quietly live on? Is it right to choose a sheltered life, considering we live in a global village? Must we choose to have our hearts broken daily? Routinely give ourselves to the cause of the oppressed, however endless it may seem, however difficult to begin?

How much do I think of myself as my own creation? Have I usurped God's position as creator and director of my life plans? Have I fallen into the trap of believing that I am the meaning of my life?

I cannot separate myself from the larger teleological story of my world. Because I stand on the planet and breathe I'm obligated wake up and pay attention to what is happening around me. I have to comfort me the knowledge that there is One who holds my future and sees my part to play.

How does one justify thinking about social justice? To socialize justly requires action, not words. Thought can sometimes paralyze more than it inspires. I only post this because I never want to stop asking these questions.

"Props to the Community"

2007-01-22T16:44:00.000-08:00

I just listened to a young woman tell the story of her life. She hides a profound wealth of wisdom behind ever-twinkling brown eyes. She exhibits an insight into the complexity of human stories that belies her age. She has come to see that people in our community often keep seas of pain hidden from one another and she is deeply compassionate as a result.

She spoke very simply of her unstable past and how the uncertainty behind her has taught her to face an equally uncertain future one day at a time. She talked about the distraction and discomfort people experience when they don't "feel" God or he seems distant. This is what happens when we stop accepting ourselves for who we are and how we're made, with whatever it may be that God gave us to offer the world. She believes that God is always close, ready to help, even if we doubt the fact.

For much of her life, she's lived with the hurt of being in relationships built out of deception and inconsistency. Despite the fact that she continues to have her family roots cut away from beneath her, she concludes by saying she is blessed. She's learned how to find family in those people who do demonstrate God's love and faithfulness. She is thankful because she can look back on a life of being close to God, something that many people want but don't discover. She has simple gratitude for the solace she has found in an unearthly Father. She recognizes the fingers of providence in the fact that she was sent to Christian schools all her life, even though not all the families she lived with were believers.

It's not abrasive or grating, in fact, it's veiled by calm acceptance and unassuming faith: this young woman has incredible courage.

Sometimes I encounter in people this thick and gluey resistance to the idea that they can admit they are gifted in some way. To accept that God loves you and has instilled unique talents and worth in you will never make you cocky. When you accept that despite your worst faults, Jesus loves you, it takes the spotlight off of you and transfers it to Jesus, celebrating his goodness. What's more, it results in the growth of a warm and giving spirit. For in the face of such unconditional acceptance, who can resist returning some love, even if only in small and broken measures?

Go and believe the truth. It's an enlightening concept well worth trying out: Even if he's the only one who does, Jesus loves you.

I love the world...

2007-01-18T19:28:00.000-08:00

2007-01-18T12:26:00.000-08:00

God's Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade;
bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs
-Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Written by Gerard Manley Hopkins

"We are the broken-egg-shell-shalom-stichers of our world. Go . . . in peace."

2007-01-17T13:15:00.000-08:00

Let us relax and be more giving of our true selves. Let us enjoy one another, for God has given us as gifts to each other. We are here to reflect the love of God into the souls of our brothers and sisters.

Sometimes I think humans have been gifted with a sixth sense: to feel trouble coming like a storm on the wind. When things have been going well for a time it becomes so easy to forget that without the Lord holding my hand I will slip and fall. It takes just a conversation or two with Christians placed close by to remind me that I am self-centred. Being a little isolated for a time results in a loss of the "reality check" found in community: the tempered view of onself that incorporates a healthy measure of sober judgment.

This week, I found sudden depth in several short conversations and emails that encouraged and surprised me. People spoke supportive words they had no cause to realize would be very touching. It's awesome that even before our hearts have fully turned to God to ask for help, he's putting in motion plans to restore our confidence in him.

Today our chaplain spoke very powerfully about the two major approaches to social justice, as reflected in Isaiah 58 and Micah 6:8.

Mercy fits in the micro category: acts of kindness which are rooted in and oriented towards relationships. Justice fits in the macro category: it involves the structure and moral fibre of an entire society. It takes two legs, one mercy-loving, one justly-acting, to walk humbly with our God. For with only justice we find a sense of self-righteous anger. With only mercy we paste cheap band-aids on the face of a still-broken world. Both in themselves are ineffectual, only mixed together and smothered in humility can real changes be made.

Yesterday I got into a somewhat heated discussion about politics and voting which resulted in healthy communication and a bit of bruised pride on both sides. I conclude that governments are designed to more efficiently and judiciously govern the world. However, we cannot expect to institute a political party and see it run a country perfectly, since as a human creation it is fallible. Elements of macro-justice and micro-mercy will find their way into every political party's agenda and as Christians our responsibility is to vote the way our interests and conscience dictate. We vote knowing that each vote is cast towards a multi-faceted organization which like an individual, has strengths and weaknesses to call its own.

2007-01-15T20:28:00.000-08:00

{canoodle}

2007-01-15T19:49:00.000-08:00

I've been told I can't make up words. A word may not be so according to Mr. Whoever Webster but that doesn't mean the word is not a word.

My favorite spot in the house is one span of lummy doovered carpet. In the living room's morning the sunlight splooms through the windows and warms my back while I read.

The outdoors was scantabulous today! Screeping crsytalline chips off the vehicle was laughaerial and the tight-wrapped branches fairly split, suffocating under the cold embrace of torls and warnets. If the sun would only peachat! tomorrow we'd truly revel in a bitterly brilliant world of refracted light through ice chinks and glass twintles.

Leep swell!

The long and short of it is...

2007-01-12T09:23:00.000-08:00

Top Ten Children's Novels:

Home From Far
Stand in the Wind
The Sky is Falling
A Handful of Time
Island of the Blue Dolphins
Little Women
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Who is Bugs Potter?
The Long Patrol
The Hobbit

I'm such a liar, there are so many more, these are just some of the ones I've read more than 5 times each. This list just stems from this niggling thought I've had lately, "Why did I never think of going to school for Children's Literature?"

However, two days ago I was sitting in an Intro. English class reading Young Goodman Brown and then, in British Novel, Robinson Crusoe. In both classes, we ended up reflecting on how the novel finds its roots deep in the history of England. Along with middle-class themes of freedom and societal relationships, many early novels reflect serious Christian influences, because of the strength of the Church's social and political position in England.

In Young Goodman Brown, a man makes a pact with the Devil to meet him for just one night of solitary initiation in the woods. By the end of the story, the Devil has convinced him that his relatives, family members and church mentors have all walked the path of blasphemy before him. Wracked with suspicion and torn by the possibility that his Puritan community is filled with dark-hearted hypocrites, Brown basically loses his sanity. The narrator leaves on a wavering note, not revealing whether the story was a dream or a real experience.

At first the story seems like this big bash on the hypocrisy found in Puritanism. On closer inspection, though, there are all these tip-offs that Brown has been toying with this idea of joining a devilish sect for a while, that he promised himself this would be the "last time", after which he would "cling to Faith". After repeated flirtation with the Devil, he becomes more inclined to believe the Devil speaks the truth than his community, even though they have a long-standing tradition of integrity. It's a pretty powerful story filled with symbolism and depth and fantastic use of detail. I couldn't help but wonder if I'd get the same analysis at a different university or if I'd get a skim-deep look that leaves the text as a criticism of Puritans and goes no further to unravel the deeper message to all Christians.

Things would be quite different if I had ended up at Ryerson U for theatre, that's for sure. These classes have just made me being to appreciate once again, that I found my education where I did. It's quite a blessing.

Welcome to my Brain Space {please ignore the echoes}

2007-01-08T20:24:00.000-08:00

I've been told that I have a few new readers! As much as I appreciate the visitors, it's rather unfortunate timing, since my focus is shifting somewhat and my time here is limited. Though I may occasionally dip a toe back into this languid pool of reflections, the summer may be brightening our horizon before I can create a refreshing splash again.

Satan set himself up for failure when he twisted truth to suggest that doing the wrong thing is sometimes acceptable, or that the concept of right versus wrong is relative. He won't be able to take charge on those grounds, for any intelligent human could put an elephant through the holes in that theory. Even if someone can be made to deny the existence of God, usually they will still acknowledge that some behaviours are right or wrong.

I will only say, "It's all relative" until my neighbour decides to poison the dog because it's their right to do so, since Fido keeps peeing on their grass. After explaining the demise of the puppy to the children I will no longer believe my neighbour was justified in his actions. There has to be a line somewhere. Justice is not simply a matter of opinion.

And if right and wrong are not determined by any human with a bad case of hot air but instead a divine conscience at work in us, than the existence of God suddenly becomes more plausible. For where else could this inherent sense of justice come from? Humanity has proven throughout history that it's not capable of meting out true justice, so the notion must come from some greater entity beyond humanity. If a skeptic will agree to that, it's really a small step from there to acknowledging the authority of that same Hand in all creation.

Did you look outside today? Scudding clouds driven on by a scouring wind . . . blues and greens brought to vivid brilliance by the sun breaking through . . . just awesome. Putting in those windows at the school was worth every penny, in my book!

~Take care~

2007-01-07T20:18:00.000-08:00

I'm discovering how much I enjoy untangling messy paragraphs, scraping away the surface of a poem and clarifying a tricky thesis statement. The use of words on a page is endlessly varied, and perhaps the best part of writing is having the option of refining your thoughts.

The trouble with speaking is that within a split second a word slips out (or is choked in) and before I know it, I have a Combo 1 instead of 4 and no fries, my professor flunks me or maybe WWIII starts. I'm not trying to be melodramatic. Saying the right words at the wrong time or the wrong words at the worst possible time--sometimes there is no going back once those syllables find the exit. I hate it when I have to apologise for something I said that, looking back, I never wanted to say. [Galatians 5:16 and Romans 7:14-20 are good friends of mine.] I think it's starting to dawn on me why I like English and Theatre so much: everything I communicate is neatly packaged and pre-determined.

I wonder what it would be like to be struck dumb for a few days. I think I'd have a whole new respect for the power of the tongue and the effect of words that aren't dolled out carefully. Whenever I talk to one of my grandparents, I'm always impressed by the measured way in which all questions are answered and all opinions uttered. I respect that characteristic so much, and I wish I could put in an order for a dose of that tact myself.

It bothers me that humans have this built-in auto-crash system. I have these stupid vices and to change I need to be disciplined and practice! But since I can't improve on my own, I find it hard to take satisfaction in any small step I make. Which is, of course, the whole point. The last thing this planet needs is 6 billion people who think they can make it on their own, least of all one young woman named Sonja!

~peace~

Oh gaze of love so melt my pride that I may in your house but kneel...

2007-01-06T13:44:00.000-08:00

Oh for pete's sake, enough already. I think I'm sensing a trend. I opened For the Beauty of the Earth and guess what I had left off with? A chapter on Love and Benevolence. This, by the way, is an excellent read about earthkeeping, but it's more than that, too. It gets pretty philosophical and scientific at some points but nonetheless if you need a concise look at the state of the world, it's future and where we fit in that--you won't be disappointed if you start it. I'm drinking in every chapter slowly, letting every few pages simmer in the old noggin for a bit. Which means that not only is it taking me a ridiculously long time to get through, but much of it is sinking in (an inch or two at least).

"Love . . . denotes strong affection for another. It is unselfish concern for the good of that for which one deeply cares. Such bonds of affection and care arise out of personal relationship, such as kinship or friendship . . . Love is, simply put, the disposition to care for the other whom one has come to know. And love is directed no only to people but also to places--river, forest, desert. These places of the heart evoke loyalty, affection and care.

Not to love is to lack feeling (a-pathos). Not to love is not to care. The opposite of love is not hatred but indifference--that vice singled out by John the Seer in his rebuke of the church at Laodicea (Rev. 3). Ecologically understood, apathy is the absence of any affection for other creatures or places. The ecologically apathetic are oblivious to and unconcerned about the havoc wreaked upon the earth. They live in utopia, no place, since they know no place well enough to really inhabit it . . . In contrast, Aldo Leopold laments, "One of the penalties of an ecological education is that one lives alone in a world of wounds".

. . . We humans are not owners but earthkeepers. We have a moral obligation to protect the creatures under our care, especially those whose existence is imperiled."

Ironically, this morning my family and I had a long discussion about the use of fossil fuels and the future of suburbia or lack thereof. As we drove in our gas-guzzling Chevy Astro on the highway through Stelco-land.

But the connection remains, one that I've been trying to make for two days now. I'm surprised it took me this long. That's a new record.

*We must love: it's essential, it's commanded. In order to love we must first enter into a committed relationship with that entity, whether it be a person or a place. And by loving we obey and exemplify our Creator.*

Again! Love!!

2007-01-05T15:10:00.000-08:00

Today, I read an article called Surprised by Friendship: Discovering Where Hope Begins, written by a young woman who went to Mozambique simply "to help". She writes:

"I began realizing there was more to life than the personal comfort in which I had surrounded myself--a graduate degree, a nice car, and a safe job . . . Selfishly, I hoped Africa would save me from a life of numbness, a life of seeking mere satisfaction--more money, more recognition, more whatever. I hoped to find it true that less is more . . . I've been conditioned to receive rather than give, trained by a culture that values desire over contentment."

By the end of the article, she says:

"The ones surrounding me -- the poor, the hungry, the sick -- understand and believe Jesus' message. They are eager to receive friendship. Here the gospel is applicable, and it really is Good News: bread for the hungry, healing for the sick, love for the unlovely . . . [a woman] attended our church in the coarse sand under a green and white tent not because of something the minstry had given her . . . but because I had spent time sitting with her in the dirt . . . I came to Mozambique looking for hope and found that in Africa, as in America, hope begins in relationship, the giving of ourselves. Even the poor have something to give--and we all have a great deal to gain."

I find it incredible that Jesus was thinking of every individual on this planet when God turned his back and let his son die on the cross. Jesus must have been exhausted at the end of his life, broken-hearted and close to despair. What kind of love does it take for a man to die for the sins of others? How often does that happen today? This is a cliche phrase, we hear it all the time: Jesus loves you. I think many have forgotten the effect it can have on a person's heart when someone shows them the love of Christ even through a simple friendship, as this woman did.

So often I look around at the world and it's problems, which seem so overwhelming (poverty, prostitution, abuse, substance addictions, war, famine...) and it seems as though humanity is the little Dutch boy with his finger in the proverbial dike. Either we are apathetically uninterested, or we're desperate to solve things, spending much of our time grasping at straws and band-aid solutions. I can identify with this woman's desire to leave, find a little space in the dirt, dip a cracked bowl in the communal bucket of rice and live in a mud hut alongside the poorest of the poor. I'd no longer be part of the problem, right?

Except, as is obvious, leaving won't solve the dilemma. The dilemma of how to fix the world has already been solved. We are promised that it will be completed eventually, in fact, because of what happened on the cross. If we are truly in the business of bringing the world to Christ, the importance is not whether or not we see our success, but whether or not we are trying, wherever we are.

I pointed out to you the stars, but all you saw was the tip of my finger.
Eastern African Proverb

Jesus spent his whole life pointing to perfect Love, the kind found in a right relationship with God. Do I? I need to begin helping others realize their worth by investing myself as friend, instead of just trying to solve their problems.

"We All Need Somebody . . ."

2006-12-30T12:48:00.000-08:00

I darkened the door of a gym yesterday for the first time in my life. I'm sure the perfectly toned SUV-driving-soccer-moms in the place found me very entertaining as I spent ten minutes trying to make a stationary bike work (it was broken). Actually, first I just pedaled for about five minutes without realizing the screen hadn't lit up. Then I jogged, climbed "stairs", rowed and biked a little more. It was fantastic! I've never enjoyed exercising quite so much!

I have to say that Family Fitness makes me think of a futuristic novel or movie. In fact, it reminds me a lot of The Island, where all these super-fit clones work out together in their spandex white suits. It made me smile to think that we have a place where dozens of pieces of exercise equipment are all lined up efficiently in rows facing a 4 x 6-foot television screen tuned to the latest hockey game. We all move furiously to the beats of a multitude of different tiny gadgets, disconnected from our neighbor and focused on our own pain and gain. Moreover, this building is huge, it probably has an incredibly expensive ventilation system and beautifully squeaky tiled floors and a modern layout...We have so much land out the front door, yet we all stay inside and run on a piece of rotating black rubber that we can adjust to move faster or slower! What haven't we adapted to make our lives more convenient?!

Today I finished Blue Like Jazz. In the last few chapters, Donald Miller clarified some gray matter that's been on the brink of my thoughts for the past couple of weeks, ideas I'm not nearly articulate enough to write about. He was talking about loving others, loving yourself and learning to truly wonder at Jesus, at his love, and our ability to relate with him and also be mystified by his greatness. Some points I want to remember:

When we talk to and interact with other people there are always two conversations going on, one of the heart and one external. We are communicating on a verbal level (topic of conversation, etc) and on an emotional and spiritual level (sending a vibe--either we like this person or we don't). If these two "conversations" don't match, we are not being truthful and we are not showing love to them. If we don't like them and we let them know, we are not bringing Jesus into the situation, we are standing on our own. And if we stand on our own we can only lead them away from God, not towards him. Miller writes, "Before, I had all this negative tension . . . this judgmentalism and pride and loathing of other people. I hated it, and now I was set free. I was free to love. I didn't have to discipline anybody, I didn't have to judge anybody, I could treat everybody as though they were my best friend . . . I loved the fact that it wasn't my responsibility to change somebody, that it was God's, that my part was just to communicate love and approval".
As for loving ourselves: is it better to love yourself too much? or too little? The jury's still out... Besides, we're not called to shoot for what's "better" but best! Miller writes about how he could never last in relationships because he always needed more affirmation, more affection and more of these things than any other person could give him. He always needed it sooner rather than later, or he felt the relationship was a flop. A woman from his church tells him that "Your value has to come from God. And God wants you to receive his love and to love yourself too." And Miller realized that God "was saying I would never talk to my neighbor the way I talked to myself, and that somehow I had come to believe it was wrong to kick other people around but it was okay to do it to myself . . . If it is wrong for me to receive love, then it is also wrong for me to give it because by giving it I am causing somebody else to receive it, which I had presupposed was the wrong thing to do." From there, he goes on to say that God's love cannot change us unless we accept it. 'Nuff said.

This just goes to show...

2006-12-28T14:47:00.000-08:00

...that you don't need to leave the continent (however tempted you are) to find natural beauty.

A Picture is Like a Paper: Needs Just a Little Tweaking to Reach Perfection

2006-12-28T14:24:00.000-08:00

The Warm Fuzzies of Contentment

2006-12-22T17:13:00.000-08:00

That was undoubtably the most glorious 7 hours I have ever spent in the employ of a certain company, which for the sake of discretion, will remain nameless.

I felt for all the world like a Swiss naturalist in a cozy shack on the side of a mountain, reading Bill Bryson with my feet propped on a little stove, munching my way through a loaf of French bread and a hunk of cheese, the rain pattering on the roof. In reality, I was selling Christmas trees by No Frills, cell-phone strapped to my waist (along with far too much cash) and so close to the intersection I could feel the thrumming of traffic under my backside.
Don't get me wrong, though, because I'm not complaining--it was grand. I sold about one tree an hour and feasted and snickered...And now I'm looking forward to a totally soft break. Life is good.

Happy Christmas!

Muse of Danger--Margaret Avison

2006-12-19T08:22:00.000-08:00

The impulse to write a poem occurs in human context -- and can be a pulsation in darkness or in light. Poetry in itself is neither "evil" nor "good" in other words. No fool-proof formula exists for using a poetic impulse to God's glory. The child of God claims the victory of Christ, and yet lives embattled from moment to moment, falling often and constantly knowing no power except through forgiveness. Even so teh believer can dedicate his gifts and acknoweldge God as their true source, and yet can experience much daily struggle in using them. As with poetry itself, the writer of the poetry is neither "evil" nor "good" in other words.

Such expressions as "a Christian poem" or "Christian literature" or "Christian works of art" involve shorthand that can be seriously misleading. They imply that good subject mattr will ensure good art, or that a dedicated Christian who writes will by virtue of his dedication understand the art of writing well. But it is the word of God alone, the being of God alone, that is good without any admixture--light without any shadow of darkness at all.

In this light all our actions are empowered and judged, including the act of writing a poem. In the steady light of that assertion, we will see some of teh questions cleared up that arise when Christians discuss the writing of poems.

Ps. Yeah, didn't write that. Wish I did, but I didn't.

English 104 Whodathunkit?

2006-12-19T07:19:00.000-08:00

I include this not because I find it so personally meaningful, although I do appreciate the careful control and clean direction of it. Mainly, I missed my last English class (and therefore the notes on this poem) and re-typing it helps me to understand it!

Philip Larkin
Aubade

I work all day, and get half drunk at night.
Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.
In time the curtain-edges will grow light.
Till then I see what's reall always there:
Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,
Making all thought impossible but how
And where and when I shall myself die.
Arid interrogation: yet the dread
Of dying, and being dead,
Flashes afresh to hold and horrify.

The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse
--The good not done, the love not given, time
Torn off unused--nor wretchedly because
An only life can take so long to climb
Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never;
But at the total emptiness for ever,
The sure extinction that we travel to
And shall be lost in always. Not to be here,
not to be anywhere,
And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.

This is a special way of being afraid
No trick dispels. Religion used to try,
That vast moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die,
And specious stuff that says No rational being
Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing
That this is what we fear--no sight, no sound,
No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,
nothing to love or link with,
The anaesthetic from which none come round.

And so it stays just on the edge of vision,
A small unfocused blur, a standing chill
That slows each impulse down to indecision.
Most tihngs may never happen: this one will,
And realization of it rages out
In furnace-fear when we are caught without
People or drink. Courage is no good:
It means not scaring others. Being grave
Lets no one off the grave.
Death is no different whined at then withstood.

Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape.
It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know,
have always known, know that we can't escape,
Yet can't accept. One side will have to go.
Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring
in locked-up offices, and all then uncaring
Intricate rented world beginis to rouse.
The sky is white as clay, with no sun.
Work has to be done.
Postmen like doctors go from house to house.

Well. So it's a good thing I didn't write that, or whoever reads this would try and get me to a therapist. I definitely don't agree, Mr. Larkin! In fact, although some aspects of religion are moth-eaten, I believe some parts remain fresh to this day! Including the sure hope that I'm not facing "the sure extinction that we travel to and shall be lost in always". In fact, I know I've been found, not lost, and plan to "come round" from that "anaesthetic" which you so fear. (I'm writing to a guy who died two years before I was born! I'm going to stop!)

I like this one better by a fair shot.

George Herbert

The Pulley

When God at first made man,

Having a glass of blessings by,

"Let us," said he, "pour on him all we can.

Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie,

Contract into a span."

So strength first made a way;

Then beauty flowed, then wisdom, honor, pleasure.

When almost all was out, God made a stay,

Perceiving that, alone of all his treasure,

Rest in the bottom lay.

"For if I should," said he,

"Bestow this jewel also on my creature,

He would adore my gifts instead of me,

And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature;

So both should losers be.

"Yet let him keep the rest,

But keep them with repining restlessness.

Let him be rich and weary, that at least,

If goodness lead him not, yet weariness

May toss him to my breast."

Apathy

2006-12-12T19:56:00.000-08:00

Can it be possible to hate yourself more than you do when you realize you just don't care about anyone but yourself?

I want to know if it's possible to turn from calloused individual to warm and caring human; from selfish and small to a large-hearted community thinker. Because I'll be honest--in my head, I want to be a daughter and sister to my family, to be a friend to my friends, to see and listen to those I come into contact with in my school...but do I really love my neighbors? The ones on the other side of the globe? It's one of two commands I'm asked to follow and I just can't claim that I do! The Bible tells us that Jesus was totally human and totally divine. That means that he, in his humanness, was tempted to be indifferent to injustice. And he, in divine power, overcame that temptation to turn away. After the fall, frailty became part of the human package, as did self interest. I am very grateful for the knowledge that we aren't expected to change these personal characteristics in our own strength. The question is where to start?

Peace...

Happy Advent, folks.

2006-12-07T11:22:00.000-08:00

Well, it's been a bit. I have to admit, the less time I have the more inclined I am to spend it speaking to people's faces instead of writing on here, as much as I like having a record of deep and profound thoughts. After all, we know they can be a bit rare in my case, so it's important to get them down.

I finished writing a paper on Mary's Magnificat yesterday. Although I was bored to tears (or tetris) at times while regurgitating Commentary text, I did learn a few things. And I was astonished to find that, once again, writing a paper made me care a lot about a topic I didn't think I would care about at all. Here's what I found:

Mary may not actually have written Luke 1:46-55. It may have been Elizabeth, or even Luke, or possibly an early church hymn writer. Mary's name fits the best, but it's possible there was no name included in the original text, and hers was only inserted as Catholic veneration for her grew. Since there is a lot of Palestinian-historical influence in the passage, Luke probably isn't the best fit, either. His gospel was primarily Greek-influenced and directed, and this passage sticks out like a sore thumb. Elizabeth spouts a bit of prophetic phrase in verses 42-45, and it makes little sense for her to speak up again. It makes more sense that Mary would respond to Elizabeth's praise and welcome at that point. In my opinion, Mary probably did sing a song which was then re-structured to include OT motifs, themes and parallels by an anonymous hymn writer very familiar with the traditional, Hebraic OT.
The best parallel for Mary's song is found in Hannah's song (1 Samuel 2:1-10). If you read Hannah's song, the structure is almost identical to Mary's. There is an intro, song of praise and a few reversals of fortunes. In terms of phrasing, Mary's words also find parallels to those of the pslamist and some prophets.
Barrenness: affliction, low estate... Depending on which translation you read, Mary and Hannah both refer to an 'affliction' or their 'low estate'--a state which some scholars interpret in Hannah's case to mean barrenness. However, this makes little sense in reference to Mary (the reason why some scholars attribute the Lucan hymn to Elizabeth, who was barren). However, the writer of the song was assuming that whoever read it would immediately see the parallel to the OT hymn of Hannah, and understand that Mary's reference to barrenness was actually a double metaphor. First, it refers to Israel's lack of a child who was to be a Messianic deliverer. Second, this idea of affliction applies to Israel's status at the time when Mary became pregnant. Israel was pretty much living in humility under oppression and taxation, waiting for the next revolt to break out.

So there we have it. It takes some pretty stiff language to explain this stuff clearly, which I get frustrated by when I'm writing. However, it's rewarding to make connections between Mary and Israel and see how, in her humility, she aligns herself totally with Israel in acceptance and expectation for the Messiah. Considering she was probably poor and socially insignificant, as well as totally unaware of how her life was fulfilling a lot of prophecies, the fact that she didn't throw a screaming tantrum at this request from God is remarkable. I mean--she basically had to expect that her name was mud, her marriage was off and she could possibly be punished harshly for her apparent infidelity. Instead, she responds with a hymn of praise? It's amazing. And no matter who the author is, their careful allusions to the Old Testament psalms and prophets throughout the hymn show how deliberately and faithfully God planned salvation for Israel (and all mankind) to come in the form of this infant.

Putting faith in that kind of a God...

Writing a paper like this reminds me that it's less of a choice to believe and more an understood acceptance of a very real and wise higher power.

Peace out...

Wonk.

2006-11-16T16:40:00.000-08:00

Just to add to what I posted yesterday...well, I'll keep it brief. Basically I feel as though I've been inundated with all kinds of information in the past few weeks. Most of it has pertained to how the Western world uses the resources in their hemisphere, and how the waste and exploitation of these resources leads to a lack (energy, food, etc) in other parts of the world. The article just made me reflect on how this generation is going to see the world differently than their parents did. There is just so much access to the reality of the pain in other parts of the world--I think this is knowledge that will empower young people to either do something about it or choose to live on in comfortable complacency.

And now a sweet and beautifully written poem that propogates the notion that, at the best of times, man is an island unto himself.

An Ode on Solitude

Happy the man whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.

Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.

Blest, who can unconcernedly find
Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,

Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
Together mixed; sweet recreation;
And innocence, which most does please
with meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.

~Alexander Pope

What is "to think globally and live locally"?

2006-11-14T08:40:00.001-08:00

Sharks Ahoy!: as children grow up, so do parents
By Phil Callaway—in the Presbyterian Record

Ever since he was knee-high to a Doberman, the boy was fearless. Take him to the ocean and he'd jump in looking for sharks. Take him to the mountains and he'd see how high he could climb. One day, when he was five, I watched in horror as he jumped off a roof – a garbage bag parachute duct-taped to his back. We couldn't be more opposite, my son and I. I believe God put us on dry land and said, "Lo, I am with you always." Not Stephen. The higher he climbs, the more he believes God is with him.
In his first year of college he called one night to ask me for money. "I'm sorry," I said, "You have reached this number in error. Please hang up and call your uncle Dan."
"I scaled a 300-foot cliff today," he said, undaunted. "You'd have loved it." Right. His father who contracts vertigo standing on an ottoman.
For years, I've wondered what God would make of our son. Would he call him to be a helicopter test pilot? A professional bungee-jumper? A clown? Or would he fulfill every North American parent's dream by settling down in an enormous house with a nice wife and provide us with half a dozen grandchildren to spoil? The unexpected answer arrived in the mail one day.
Dear Dad and Mom,
I just want you to know about recent plans and developments in my life. I met a couple of nice Mormon girls and we're planning on being married. Not really. But I did meet Lucy. You'll like her a lot. It's surprising how quickly you can find a justice of the peace down here. Lucy owns a tattoo parlor, but seldom works. Her father won some money in a lottery, so she's set for life. I won't need to work anymore either. I've bought a Mercedes convertible and you'll be happy to know I put a chrome fish on the bumper. Lucy owns a house, a summer home, and we're praying about buying a yacht.
If you haven't fainted yet, you may want to read the truth now. It may be more shocking. In the country of Uganda, the Lord's Resistance Army is committing atrocities against children that are too awful for me to put in this letter. Over the years they've abducted 50 000 kids and turned the ones they haven't murdered into soldiers. I want to go work with street children in Kampala. I'll be living with local missionaries. It will mean lots of needles and I'll need to raise a little money too. I once heard Dad say that Jesus came to comfort us, not to make us comfortable. I guess I've been comforted enough; it's time to offer some to others.
Your son,
Steve

"Where do you think we went wrong?" I asked his mother. "Couldn't he just have a beach ministry in Hawaii?" She grinned, despite the fact she'd stuck herself with a sewing needle while I read the letter. "Maybe we blew it taking him to other countries and showing him what the real world looks like," I suggested.
"It's what we've prayed for all these years," she said. "That he would live life on purpose."
And so a few weeks ago we hugged our first-born son until his ribs squeaked there in the airport, as he embarked on a grand adventure half a world away. It's funny the questions people ask when they hear he's going to Uganda. "Aren't you worried about his safety?" they say. And I'd be a fool not to admit that I have my moments. Check a list of the most dangerous spots on earth and Uganda nears the top. But is safety what we're here for? Isn't the most dangerous place on earth the place of complacency? Isn't Suburbia sucking the life out of more of our teenagers than any foreign country ever could?
I must be honest. There are times I'd rather Steve were home, making good money, putting it away for my nursing home bills. Yet I cannot hope for more than this: that my children will hear God's voice amid a noisy culture and that they will obey.
Just before he left I asked my son what he'd miss most about home. "The dog," he said, smiling. Then why is it that I saw him studying family photos and lounging on the sofa watching an old Disney movie with his brother and sister? Was he killing time? Or saying goodbye to the remnants of childhood?
I've shed a few tears, but mostly I've been giving thanks. For a son who's an updated and improved version of his father. For e-mail and cheap overseas phone rates. And I'm thankful there are no sharks in Uganda.

Phil Callaway is a popular speaker and author.
~November 2006: Presbyterian Record

Reformation Day and Death Cab

2006-11-03T06:45:00.000-08:00

Since the general trend seems to be to wholly praise the band Death Cab for Cutie...here goes. I'm kidding--the band deserves to be praised. What a grand concert. I'm no big-city-eyes-wide-open expert here, but in my humble opinion, that was the best concert I've ever seen. I love being able to sing along without losing my voice, and in this case, that was easy, since you could understand the words and everything wasn't excessively ("obnoxiously") loud :) Along with the genuinely solid musical aspects of the thing, I thought the lighting was sweet...and the atmostphere was kind of casual and relaxed, too, which was nice. I was in good company, after all, which set a good tone from the start! The guys didn't spend a lot of time talking, they just played their music and lots of it.

I also love being in downtown Toronto, especially at night--I can't really put into words why this is, but there is just something about walking in a big city that makes me feel like I'm on an adventure! I had the same feeling when I visited my cousin this weekend, who lives downtown. I was standing in this tiny, laminate-floored, ancient apartment looking out onto a red-brick townhoused street--it was so straight out of a movie looking. It kind of made me wish I could join her for a month!

In other news...I went trick or treating for the first time ever with my brothers. I was a gangster. We bought guns and ski masks and I had a black eye. We were utterly terrifying to behold and I got lots of candy. Actually, this is the most I've ever had in my life and now, aside from the obvious and unhealthy answer, I'm not really sure what to do with it. I also got asked a lot of times how old I was, but that's Jonathan's fault because he's 6'3". Otherwise I would have just been a happily anonymous and short trick or treater. From the picture above, you can see that family ties are strong even when members are 1000 miles apart--Jeremy got right into things, too, evidently! You make a lovely rock star, Jer. The eyeliner is stunning.

Enviro time.
Keep on rolling folks~one day at a time.

"All of the clouds will go away . . ."

2006-10-24T12:36:00.000-07:00

Oh, the endless potential possibilities of improve-age that await in a new day!!

So my life in a nutshell, cracker barrel or a teaspoon...I'll go with teaspoon. I have to study.

I bought my plane ticket to Alabama. $$$ [ouch] but every second will be worth it. I will be tanning in February, accompanied by my favorite older brother.

Death Cab for Cutie is next week.

Play is coming up. Less than a month and I'll be standing on stage in front of people I know in pink suede, trying to look like I actually do feel like crying, because my sister is actually in a coma and on her way to dead.

One more midterm tomorrow and I'm home-free for a bit.

And that's all.

Peace and I mean it.

Home

2006-10-21T15:11:00.000-07:00

the faces
the places
the music
the language
the street signs
the laws
the social status and behaviour

The idea of leaving home is in one way terrifying. To have all I know tugged from under my feet within several hours is a ludicrous possibility. Just thinking about stepping off a plane into another part of the world makes my stomach do the whole last-few-seconds-before-my-first-line thing.

Take a tree and plant it on the side of a mountain. If it's a Shivering Aspen, no problem. The tree finds a centimetre of soil and a fissure, and the roots grow as though the tree was in a richly soiled pasture. But if the tree's a Japanese Maple, it'll shrivel and soon you'll have a waxy stick to show for your efforts. The Japanese Maple's primary concern is to strap you for cash, look delicately Asian and weeping flow in a shady corner of your garden. If the sun starts to burn, it no longer has a reason or will to live. The Shivering Aspen has figured out that sun, water, soil and air are all it really needs to grow to it's full size. Wherever it may be planted, it will find purpose and flourish.

So it's also an empowering idea. I could walk away from my life here. And yes, it would be hard. I'm not disputing that. If I leave though, for the present that focuses my whole attention on exactly what matters. The relationships I invest in, how I spend my time (blogging?), my money and my energy...all these things would change drastically. It's quite a thought.

Sheep, Seasons of Solitude, and Stage Affection

2006-10-15T10:47:00.000-07:00

If you haven't already read Traveling Light by Max Lucado I advise you either to go buy it and or borrow it from me and read it! In an analysis of Psalm 23, Lucado addresses all the major baggage that humans pack in their life journey: self-reliance, discontent, weariness, worry, hopelessness, guilt, arrogance, grief, fear, loneliness, shame, disappointment and envy. Then, Lucado goes on to unpack all the ways that Jesus fits the role of shepherd, especially in his ability to relieve our burdens in life. Of course, this analogy leaves humans fulfilling the sheep role, which is always humbling to think about. Bleating with the IQ of a teaspoon. Hmmm. Nonetheless, a powerful read.

Play practice yesterday was stimulating. One cast member tried to kiss a girl on the cheek (part of a scene) and hit his target so forcefully that she was in pain (it really was more of a head butt than a kiss). When his nose started bleeding, there was a total loss of focus for at least ten minutes. Then, the same girl decided she was going to kiss the stand-in for her love interest, who didn't make the practice. She pulled it off with an admirable show of savvy and finesse--and then had a total mind blank. She simply could not spit out the next line after the stage direction she kisses him.

Oh, to have behind-the-scenes footage of Halo rehearsals.

Books Ahr Noht Laim

2006-10-10T16:28:00.000-07:00

How come that works with Christmas and not Thanksgiving? Clearly someone didn't think that through.

So I drank two coffees on two consecutive days this weekend--does that make me an addict? With the aid of caffeine, then, I found it to be an entirely refreshing weekend. The highlight was going to the RBG with Robyn on Saturday afternoon--the weather was incredible, can I get an 'Amen'?! It was that perfect temperature in which the air becomes a second skin. Runner up for highlights: the conversation and food before going to sleep on Sunday night and the extraneous visit to my home and native land [Chapters]. I managed to avoid purchasing anything at the bookstore, which was a painful exercise in self control. I am still running into people I know there--and I still have the unsettling desire to answer the phone when it rings more than twice. I'll never be the same again. If you want to enjoy browsing among unctious works of the fictional intellects of our time, don't ever work in a bookstore.

As one to another

2006-10-04T13:35:00.000-07:00

The people who inspire me the most are the ones who face the toughest knocks in life. That admiration must be one of the blessings they receive for facing everything with so much courage.

D for Domestic

2006-10-01T11:08:00.000-07:00

For those of you derogatory, doubting Thomases, I need to declare that today, I definitely made a delicious, delectable and undeniably desirable meal. I have two witnesses, both of whom ate the meal with full willingness--and I think this may be a turning point in my formerly lacking culinary life.

protects, trusts, hopes, perseveres...

2006-09-25T17:50:00.000-07:00

Not to be morbid, but if I knew today was my last day...

1. Would I be blogging during Missions class?
2. Would I go to church? to class?
3. Would I want to be with my family, friends, both?
4. Would I be at home or on a plane to Fiji?
5. Would I be listening to music, walking on a windy beach, or eating Cream of Wheat?
6. Would I be writing a long-winded will or try to make things right with people around me?
How would I use my time differently?
How would I speak, think or act differently?
Would I be content?

Yesterday we went to Kristin's house...it was really relaxing and lazy and comfortable. (Today was too, I sense a trend, maybe?). We also went to Port Dalousie on the way back for a quick walk. It was down memory lane for me--I remember feeding ducks on that pier ten years ago.

Blustery, cloudy skies and cold, wild winds--this is my favorite weather.
It makes me want to go fly a kite in a big field.

2006-09-23T12:26:00.000-07:00

Wow, how scary is it that I can stick all my deepest, darkest thoughts in here and anyone, anywhere in the world, can find it, by typing "Sonja *--blogspot" into their google search engine?? I could be invisibly stalked!! Good thing I'm determined enough to take the chance.

So life is...good, for lack of a better descriptive analogy. Seriously, the days pass quickly, and for the most part, I find myself leaning on what I am supposed to. The rest seems to fall into place. Having four intro courses makes me feel like I'm living in a cup of hot chocolate. I just float around and relax and soak everything in--I don't have a lot of homework yet so I work ahead (!) at a leisurely pace. Theatre will make sure this extraneous lack of purpose doesn't last for long, but until that happens--I plan on enjoying it.

Last night, I went to BP with some folks and then watched an uplifting, cheery movie about blackmailing, imminent death and betrayal...Good thing it was compensated by the conversation afterwards. Although I was seriously sleep deprived this morning, it was a night that could have lasted for several more hours, in my book.

So that's all for now. I am going to have to ease back into this. Composing my thoughts into something that someone else might actually want to read is...I'm out of practice. It might take time.

peace