laying earthly hope at heaven's door

I've Moved

2009-11-15T23:57:00.000-08:00

so, i had to keep logging out of gmail to get to my former blog, which was a blogspot registered under my yahoo email, and it wouldn't, for some reason, let me switch over my main email address (i've been trying to figure that out for months). and that little bit of extra work was what kept me from being more active than i have been (in other words, absolutely no activity at all).

so, i've moved over, making it easier to remember (who cares about transliterated greek phrases you've made up that are supposed to be highly significant, unless you're still in Bible college?) and hopefully, easier to keep up with.

check it out: http://layingearthlyhopeatheavensdoor.blogspot.com/

and check back in a month or two. i'll surely have posted something by then. :)

I'm Really Not All That Spiritual

2009-08-04T18:23:00.000-07:00

I don’t tithe because I want to be obedient, or because I’m under conviction to, or because I’m on staff at church. No, I must confess, my reasoning is a lot less spiritual than all that.

How nice it would be to have an extra chunk of cash to be able to spend on visiting my family in the Midwest, or to go on an exotic vacation to somewhere I haven’t been, or even just to save up for a rainy day! But while those are certainly priorities in my mind, another priority is helping things grow—whether that means my struggling orchid (do these plants ever thrive?) or the ministries at my church.

Yes, God is glorified when we help people, but I must admit, that’s not really my reasoning. I like for people to think of our church as a helpful place, a place that has the manpower, the facilities and the finances to be able to help our community. I’m a little shallow—I want people to like our church.

And I must confess, I’m not as compassionate as Bob Varden or Greg Lazzeroni, who love to help people through Food Help. I’m not even as compassionate as Dave Smith, who helps all those who come by during the week, and serves them breakfast once a month. I don’t thrive on working with kids as Stefani Lockhart and Kim Rozek do. I don’t do well with lonely, menial tasks like what Aaron Espejo takes care of, stocking our worship center each week and watering our flowers.

But I can volunteer to help with activities that I am good at. I can buy groceries to donate. I can pray for God to provide for our ministries. And I can give money. Because I would hate for any of the ministries that I believe in to not be able to continue for lack people or resources. I know our budget is tight, and we are working to cut down our expenses, but we’re also needing our members to be committed to our church, (aka, the Bride of Christ), to seeing that our ministries continue forward.

I want Food Help to continue. I want our student and children’s ministries to thrive. I want to continue participating in fellowship events. I want for us to be able to continue growing spiritually through Bible studies. I want our facility to continue being available for community groups. I want to continue blessing Christ-followers around the world through our Worldwide Outreach. And I really want to be able to enjoy air conditioning on Sundays!

So in a nutshell, I tithe and give offerings so that we can continue ministering at the corner of 4^th and New streets. After all, what good is it for me to come to church, if I don’t become an active part of what is going on here? (And trust me—we have a lot going on here; I see it going on all week!)

Plus, and I guess this is a bit of a spiritual reason, but when I arrive at my true home, I really want my Father to say, “Well done, good and faithful servant!...Come and share your master’s happiness!”

Ecuador 2009

2009-08-02T10:14:00.000-07:00

Here's a summary of the first 8 days spent in Ecuador.

Days 1-3

The first 3 days have been quite an adventure, beginning with our departure at LAX. It took 1 1/2 hours to check in, due to our ticket agent being new at her job. We made it through security just in time to board our flight, only to land in El Salvador to find that our connecting flight had been indefinitely delayed (we had 3 connecting flights, since we booked the cheapest flights possible). Thankfully, we were automatically booked on another flight, and made it to our next flights to San Jose, Costa Rica, Quito & Guayaquil, Ecuador without incident.

When we arrived Thursday afternoon, members of the church greeted us and helped lug our 14 heavy suitcases full of personal items as well as materials for children's Sunday School, such as reams of paper, colored pencils and other items for crafts (yes, we did end up paying overweight for 3 of our bags!). But the fact is, the church in El Recreo is running low on funds--they are in debt, having had to buy heavier doors to keep their musical instruments and other equipment safe (they've had several breakins). So we brought items that they can use, which they can't afford at the moment.

We settled in Thursday evening, and attended a special service which was held to welcome us. Then we ate a very scrumptious dinner (at 9:30pm) and fell into bed, not having slept on the planes the night before.

Friday morning we got up at 7, ate a quick breakfast, and shared a time of devotions, about the power of God to transform our life, despite us being in a place and time of disillusion or spiritual cynicism. Then we began the physical labor: we plastered walls and sanded down those which had already been plastered. At noon, a group of 35 children showed up and took part in the feeding program that is open to them, Monday-Friday (the money for this is always tight, but they depend on donations from those in the church). We had them participate with us in a re-enactment of the story of the Good Samaritan, and helped them to create their own First Aid kits (baggies, cotton swabs, q-tips, band aids, alcohol wipes, and a card with a verse on there), so as to remember that they can also love their neighbor by helping him. We went back for showers after lunch (to wash off all the plaster dust), and got ready for the afternoon children's program.

In the afternoons, they head out to a neighborhood with room to run around, and start playing games with the children they find. We began with six, and within 15 minutes, there were at least 40 kids! After a time of song and dance, one of the girls who works with the children's programs taught a Bible lesson, and showed them how to do the corresponding craft. About an hour and a half after arriving, we headed back home to gather our things and head back to the church for our first leadership session. We learned about God's eternal plan: To gather all things, in heaven and on earth, in Christ (Ephesians 1). It served as an introduction to the next 4 sessions: How to grow into maturity to the full measure of Christ. The 20 people that showed up really enjoyed it, as it was delivered in Ralph Shead's typical style, mixing humor and God's truth. After another late dinner (which are the norm here), we headed back to bed.

This morning, we got up early again to dig into a little more intense physical activity (sanding again, painting, sanding rust off of seriously oxidized steel beams--of course, we're covered with evidence of all this, from head to toe). Now it's after lunch, we'll be holding Sunday School for the kids (they have it on Saturdays, so everyone can take part in the Sunday service), and attending a talent show at the Baptist Church, which apparently, we will be taking part in! Maybe dancing or singing--we don't know yet.

Continue praying for us. It's easy to become distracted, as things don't always go as we plan. Christina especially has suffered several minor physical injuries, which add up to a lot of discomfort. But she, like the rest of our team, has dug in and decided not to let Satan get the best of us! There is a lot of work to be done, the least of it physical, and we are determined to let God use us to make a difference. We have built relationships with adults and kids alike (in fact, sometimes it's hard to work because we'll have one or more kids hanging off of us). They remember us as the church that cares about them, and that has invested time, energy, money and a lot of love into their well-being.

Days 4-5

I forgot to mention that on Saturday, Jillian and Ralph went to the "squatters village", called "The Invasion" in Spanish, because it was land that belonged to no one, which poor people began building on. The reason this land wasn't already in use is because half the year it's submerged, due to the heavy rains in the winter. So the houses are built out of thick bamboo, and set on stilts, to keep the residents out of the water. They've built a rickety bridge to get out so they can work, but most people just don't leave during the rainy season. (Our cook lives in this area of town; she did so when she became a widow two years ago, and had to simplify her lifestyle.) Thankfully right now it is summer, and the roads are dried, made up of cracked mud. So each Saturday morning, the church takes their children's ministry opportunities to the kids that live in this poor area. They also take people to teach a discipleship course to a few of the mothers at the same time. A couple of them are close to making a decision for Christ, and we soon expect them to be baptized.

On Sunday morning, we gathered with the believers to worship God together and share in His word and communion. We learned about the Great Commission, how Christ sent us to make disciples, going, baptizing and teaching them to obey everything Christ commands (which is hard for those on mission trips, too!).

After sharing in lunch together, we headed to a small town called Buijo, about 1/2 hour away, to work with children and minister to seniors who are in need. As the regular kid's activity was set up, Kyle, Ralph and Sarah headed out with Geovanni, who really has a heart for the old people in this community. He finds sponsors for each person (right now he has 5), and they take care of paying for groceries as well as writing notes to encourage them. He also has others who help by donating groceries as they are able. We delivered groceries, shook their hands, gave out hugs, and just sat for a while to talk to them. The couple we visited first just got baptized about a month ago, and now they are talking about getting married (they are in their 80's). All the people we visited live in horrible conditions: large cracks in the walls, dirt floors, without clean clothes, but they know that once a week, Geovanni will be there to care for them and treat them like people.

We ended our outing with a time of praise to God for what he's doing with both groups--the foreigners (as we know we are) and the Ecuadorians. The truth is that we are complementing each other well, working from our combined strength, and the willingness we have to work together, united with one purpose.

Sunday night, Tyler, Jillian, Kyle and Christina joined several members of the church in a basketball game, and arrived home ready to shower and go to bed, but were distracted by a fire across the street which someone started with a mattress. (Here, mounds of trash can be found anywhere in the street.) The trash caught on fire, and it began spreading! Once they had contained it, though, it was back upstairs to bed for everyone.

Today, Monday, we have spent an extending time in physical labor. We've painted with sticky paint that doesn't easily come off of hands or legs, sanded more plaster, mixed and poured cement (almost an entire slab in 3 hours, thanks to our foreman, Francisco), and carted sand and rock. We are tired, but looking forward to sharing an evening of leadership training, preparing the church here to continue the good work, encouraging them, and deepening their walk with God.

Days 6-8
Tuesday began with our familiar routine--we got up for breakfast, shared in a time of devotions, and began working. The guys (Kyle and Tyler) got to continue the difficult task of sanding down steel beams which were covered in rust (because of the heavy rains during the beginning of the year). The girls continued plastering, sanding, and painting. After a morning of those activities, we helped serve the kids who come each weekday for the lunch program (there are 35 kids that come to eat lunch here each day), and then we taught them a brief lesson, with a corresponding craft. This week we've talked about the importance of being part of the family of God, how we are a new creation in Christ and how we shine light in a dark world.

That afternoon, as we were showering and getting ready for the evening, I shared the Sunday School supplies we brought with Karen, who is in charge of the children's programs. None of this was big stuff--just pencils and scissors, colored pencils, crayons, a few reams of paper and construction paper and glue (which our church family donated), as well as some craft ideas. She hugged me hard and long, only pulling away once she had composed herself. "Tell your church thank you. We have nothing. This will bless the kids for many weeks to come!" I got tears in my eyes, too.

Then we got ready for an evangelistic campaign. This means we take a sound system and puppet house to an empty parking lot/soccer field in town, set it up, and begin inviting kids to join us in games and songs. After about 30-45 minutes of playing together and singing along with the puppets, we have them sit down so we (and by "we", I mean the Ecuadorians) can teach them a Bible lesson and help them make a craft. Then we send them home to invite their parents to come back for an evangelistic service, where we sing a few church songs, share a couple of testimonies, and present a choreography or two. At the end there is an appeal for those who want to know more or have questions or want to give their life to Christ to either step forward, or just stay in place, and then those who already follow Christ can walk through the people and talk and pray with them.

It was a good evening. A recent convert shared his experience of having been a drunk and drug addict, and he is only about 17 now! But it was a powerful message, and we were able to talk to several people, and three of them even showed up the next day and helped us work around the church! Hopefully they will continue to discover the grace of Christ.

On Wednesday, we followed the same routine--work in the morning, working with the lunch kids--but in the afternoon we worked with kids in a different area of town (kind of like the campaign, but without the evangelistic outreach to the parent&acutes kids). As we were standing there, I got to talking with a girl who looked a little disheveled. She began to tell me her story as I expressed interest.

Veronica is 13. Her parents died when she was young, and since then, she hasn&acutet lived anywhere where men haven't either tried or succeded in taking advantage of her. She recently was released from a girl's shelter, but the home where she was placed isn't any different from other places; the dad had come home late drunk the night before, and had tried to force himself on her. She refused to return there. I asked her where she would be staying that night, and she said she had no idea. She'd just probably stay on the street. I gave her a glass of kool-aid, bought her some candy because she had a sweet tooth, and prayed for her.

I have never felt so useless, so impotent to be able to do something for her. I had no home to take her to, no resources or money to take her somewhere safe. I wonder where she is today. I am praying for her. I know that God's plan for me was not to solve her problems, but to show her for an hour that day that she is loved. As I hugged her and told her goodbye, she began crying, and didn't want to let go. Please pray for her.

That evening we had our third Bible Study/leadership session. It was of great blessing to all who were there.

Today (Thursday, July 2)has been the same--work, kid&acutes lunch program, this afternoon we'll work with kids again, and this evening will find us in Bible study again.

Please continue to pray for us. We are getting tired, but still want to be a blessing, and keep our focus on serving, rather than our uncomfortableness in getting bug bites, having to sleep on the floor, and not getting a good nights´ sleep.

After the first 8 days, things got crazy and I didn't have time to write more about our last 4 days. Needless to say, they included a lot of sad goodbyes.

Creed

2009-07-26T09:58:00.000-07:00

I cannot say my creed in words.
How should I spell despair, excitement, joy and grief?
amazement, anger, certainty and unbelief?

What was the grammar of those sleepless nights?
Who the subject? What the object? –
of a friend who will not come, or does not come,
and then
creates his own eccentric special dawn:
A blinding light that does not blind.

Why do I find you in the secret,
wordless places where I hide
from your eternal light?
I hate you.
I love you.
I miss you.
I wish that you would go
and yet I know that long ago
you made a fairy tale for me

About the day when you would take your sword
and battle through the thicket of the things I have become.

Your kiss to life…my Sleeping Beauty
waiting for her Prince to come.

Then I will wake
and look into your eyes
and understand.
And for the first time
I will not be dumb
and I shall
say my creed
in words.
--Adrian Plass

Of All the Bigoted Things to Say...

2009-01-22T13:15:00.000-08:00

Every so often, I go with our Senior's ministry to speak at their weekly outreach to area retirement homes. And each time, at least one of them will say something that makes me think, "Really?"

Today's pick:
"Did you know that our new president is in favor of kids having sex in school?"
And they all sadly shook their heads at the dismal state of the world.

Two of My Favorite Things...

2008-12-19T09:45:00.000-08:00

...are coming together on February 22...

Harry Potter, At Last!

2008-09-25T11:56:00.000-07:00

I finished the Deathly Hallows this morning at 1:00 am. That means that in 25 days, I have accomplished the reading of the entire Harry Potter series, all 7 books.

What an enjoyable adventure it has been! I've been mesmerized, from the first description of the home on Privet Drive, to the crucial moment when Harry finally understands (and even beyond that), my imagination has soared, my heart has been gladdened, and I have been caught up in a world of honor, nobility, friendship and self-sacrifice.

I've been asked which volume is my favorite, but in all honesty, since I sped through them, I could not choose one over the other; the story all blends together, as a whole. However, I did discover something to become a favorite, although you may find it quite odd to get this from the books: I have come to a deeper appreciation and greater admiration for Gary Oldman as an actor. Sirius Black easily became a favorite character, and since I'd already seen the movie, his being came alive in my mind with the semblance my eyes had already taken in. (And to have done such a superb job in Batman simply added to my gratitude to him as an actor, having portrayed those characters so vividly.)

But this detracts from my main point; the books were well-written, enthralling and worth every last minute dedicated to them over the last 25 days.

It's Summer...!

2008-08-07T16:23:00.000-07:00

I've been melancholic all day. Maybe all week. And while this is my usual temperament, it doesn't always hit me like this.

Today I've been wanting to listen to Christmas music, specifically Relient K's "Let it snow, baby, let it reindeer."

Something about certain Christmas songs, especially original songs, stir something in me. (For those of you who aren't aware, I absolutely do NOT like Christmas music, at least not the same 30 carols that everyone with a record deal seems to record. Write your own stuff, don't just regurgitate the same crap with a personal little "twist".)

Christmas in the middle of summer? Yeah. For the first 18 years of my life, that's when I celebrated it.

I miss Mom.

A Silver Teapot

2008-07-18T10:53:00.000-07:00

A woman just walked into the church office, asking if she could buy one of the decorations we have in the café. When I told her I was pretty sure it wasn’t for sale, she insisted that I find out for sure. I told her no, it wasn’t for sale, and she acted like I was trying to cheat her.

Since when did we become a thrift store?

Pregnant Jesus?

2008-05-06T18:52:00.001-07:00

Well, yesterday I went to the Crystal Cathedral for the first time with my History of Architecture class, and was struck by this:

Is it just me, or does Jesus look like he might be entering his fifth month?
;)

No Country for an Old Man

2008-05-01T17:50:00.000-07:00

I pushed open the heavy wooden door and heard the familiar bell chime overhead. Even after all these years, the print shop smelled the same, of machinery, paper, ink and days long past.

“Any new business?” Papa asked.

“Nope. Sent Don home ‘bout an hour ago, told him to take the rest of the day off,” replied his 85-year old assistant. What Helen lacks in hair and teeth, she more than makes up for with her spunky personality. She’s worked for my grandpa almost since he opened the Bartlesville Print Shop in 1980, and still uses a hand-cranked adding machine.
Before Mamaw had her first fall two years ago, she had been grandpa’s bookkeeper, and had even begun keeping records and payroll organized on her home computer. When Papa recently suggested to Helen that he could bring the computer down to the shop, she almost had a fit. “What would I do with one of those? I never used one before in my life!”

The walls of the shop are still plastered with family pictures, community awards, and assorted signs yellowed by age, like the one stating, “This is a respectable establishment. Please act accordingly.” Or “No Smoking. We’d like to die of Natural Causes.” (My favorite sign says, “If you act cross, irritable, or just plain grumpy, there will be a $10 fee for putting up with you.”)

Peering past that wall, I look into the actual printing room. I remember having gone in when I was little, barely tall enough to see over the tall tables, clamping my hands over my ears to shut out the sounds of three or four massive machines running simultaneously. Today the dark interior lay quiet, with one machine left against the right wall. Five small printing orders lay on a table next to the doorway, with their handwritten invoices indicating they are waiting to be picked up. One of them is dated December 2007.

In many ways, the print shop is a picture of it’s owner—a symbol of the American dream, boasting of a time that was much less complex, and proud to remain unchanged, despite being a bit rundown.

As we drive through town, I see several abandoned downtown shops, as well as residences which will soon be bulldozed to make way for a parking lot. What had once been a booming oil town with two tall office buildings (one a decidedly functional modern style and the other postmodern, with superbly understated ornamentation), has now become a place for old-timers to sit in a diner and reminisce over endless cups of black coffee.

Like Papa. He often comments on how this driver shouldn’t have pulled out in that way, nor does he understand the hesitancy of other drivers to go ahead at a 4-way stop when he was still creeping forward. And he points out each time we saw a car with a license plate declaring the driver to be part of the Cherokee Nation. Times have changed since his family moved to town from Kentucky when he was a young boy. His parents’ store and home have long since been leveled, and his bride of 39 years has just died, leaving him to fend for himself in this strange new world.

But my grandpa has changed, too. The shirts he wears now have stains. He goes out to eat, whether in someone’s home or at a restaurant for nearly every meal, because he never had to learn to cook when Mamaw was around. His voice is softer, more melancholic, and while he still teases his grandchildren, the usual twinkle in his eye is now missing.

And I have no idea how life in this brave new world could be so foreign, leaving one feeling cast off, ignored and forgotten.

“Hey, sugar, you know? Growing old ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
I know, Papa; I know.

Isn't Sunday supposed to be a day of rest?

2008-04-20T20:32:00.001-07:00

I just finished washing dishes after our celebration potluck, which wrapped up this year's mission trip to Mexico. We built homes for two families (one was a brand new house, and the other, an addition) and had a total of 29 people go.

Here are a few pictures, because I'm tired (I've been at church for 10 1/2 hours today) and don't want to try to think of anything clever to say.

Except this:
Greg Burkhardt is the stuff legends are made of. I'm talking Ryan Morrison/Jason Yost material.
One day I accidentally called him Jason. His response? "I'm honored."
:)

And I'm headed to Mexico...

2008-03-21T09:40:00.000-07:00

My grandma passed away this morning. In Oklahoma.

Speaking of Wood, Hay and Straw

2008-02-23T23:47:00.000-08:00

The Oscars are tomorrow.

And you are invited to come hang out and watch them with me. Bring something to munch on, though.

Red carpet starts at 3 pm; the actual awards ceremony starts at 5 pm. Come & go, as you like.

Due to a rather small pool of resources and friends, I didn't make it to see all the movies I really wanted to this past month. However, here's a list of the nominees I did manage to see, and why they were nominated:

Across the Universe--Costume Design/ Not quite the hallucinogenic trip I thought it would be, and while I enjoyed it, since I really don't know many songs by the Beatles, I was kind of lost most of the movie.

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford--Supporting Actor, Casey Affleck; Cinematography/ Casey did an amazing job; also, check out his stunning performance in Gone Baby Gone. The despair in this movie was accurately portrayed by shots of bleak countrysides.

Atonement--Supporting Actress, Saoirse Ronan; Art Direction; Cinematography; Costume Design; Original Score; Best Picture; Adapted Screenplay/ Visually stunning movie--the way they framed shots was beautiful! Also, I'm surprised this movie wasn't nominated for Sound Editing/Mixing; the way they mixed the sound of a typewriter throughout, and highlighted sounds like a bee at the window served to draw you in to an already intriguing story.

Away From Her--Leading Actress, Julie Christie; Adapted Screenplay/ When I read that this was the story of a wife beginning to develop Alzheimer's, I thought it would be depressing, but instead I discovered the beautiful ache of an aging couple discovering that there was something before death that could rip them apart. It made me cry--in a good way!

The Bourne Ultimatum--Film Editing; Sound Editing; Sound Mixing/ The rooftop scene where Bourne then jumps from balcony to balcony was especially memorable.

Eastern Promises--Leading Actor, Viggo Mortensen/ A lot of "escenas fuertes" in this one--that is, very impactful images, and certainly not for the faint of heart. But Viggo pulls off this unlikely member of the Russian mafia, even with a hint of comedic genius.

Enchanted--3 Original Songs/ Fun movie, but I couldn't tell you which songs they should/shouldn't have nominated--they all ran together by the end.

The Golden Compass--Art Direction; Visual Effects/ Here's one for controversy! I'll just say this: interesting story, and yes, visually stunning.

Gone Baby Gone--Supporting Actress, Amy Ryan/ Solid performance by Amy Ryan, but I think Casey Affleck stood out more. VERY well made movie, though. Lots to think about.

Michael Clayton--Leading Actor, George Clooney; Supporting Actor, Tom Wilkinson; Supporting Actress, Tilda Swinton; Directing; Original Score; Best Picture; Original Screenplay/ It was odd to see Clooney as a dad, and definitely not a ladies' man; so believable as this new kind of character! And both Wilkinson (Cornwallis from The Patriot) and Swinton (the icy and intimidating White Witch from The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe) swept me away with their lucid, yet somewhat erratic characters.

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End--Makeup; Visual Effects/ My favorite makeup/visual effect? Bill Nighy as Davy Jones. Still couldn't disguise the curl of his lip, though. Also, I'd like to know: what kind of eyeliner does Jack Sparrow use? It stays on hell or high water and doesn't even seem to smudge!

Ratatouille--Animated Picture; Original Score; Sound Mixing; Sound Editing; Original Screenplay/ Saw this one in Costa Rica... ;)

3:10 to Yuma--Original Score; Sound Mixing/ For me, the most notable elements of this movie where performances by Christian Bale and Ben Foster; when are they going to get nominated? Bale caught my eye in 1987 with Empire of the Sun, and Foster creeped me out in Hostage. Where's their recognition?

Transformers--Sound Mixing; Sound Editing; Visual Effects/ I grew up watching their cartoon every morning before heading off to kindergarten (at least for the fall semester of 1985, when we were living in the US). I was fascinated then, and I am fascinated now.

Here's the nominated movies I wish I'd seen beforehand, and might still pick up in the near future:

Elizabeth (Cate Blanchett)

I'm Not There (Again, Cate Blanchett!)

Into the Wild

Juno

The Kite Runner

Lars and the Real Girl (Ryan Gosling!)

No Country For Old Men

Sicko

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

There Will Be Blood (Daniel Day Lewis)

[Until just a moment ago, when I finished these lists, I didn't realize how many nominated films I'd seen! Maybe I'm better prepared than I thought for tomorrow's ceremony.]

Perhaps I should be studying for my first History of Architecture test this semester, for Monday morning, instead of watching the Oscars... :)

I'm Not...

2008-02-21T23:17:00.000-08:00

...a [ ] secretary.

Get it through your heads!

Save Me From Myself!

2008-02-10T23:58:00.000-08:00

Have you ever felt like God's been trying to get your attention for a while, and one day you finally catch on?

I've slowly been making my way through a book (Inside Out by Larry Crabb. One of the most honest books I have read about life as a Christ-follower. Read it.) which talks about the brokenness of us, as humans, and how we try to make up for it by demanding our own way, when what we need is to learn how desperately dependent on God we are.

I'm working through a study on the tabernacle. This morning I opened the book and read about how God took 40 years to engrain in his people their dependency on him.

Yesterday I literally sat and listened at the feet of one of my favorite singer/songwriters. He sang of being wistful, broken, and seemingly bent on his own self-destruction. But he also sang words of hope, of perfect love, of discovering a peaceful dependency on the one who is actually able to suffice.

And it hit me--my own fierce independence is what keeps me from God, from having the kind of relationship with him that I want, from having the quality of life for which I long.

I cannot live in my own strength or trust my own resourcefulness, and it's high time I realize my inability to do so.

Road Trip

2008-02-10T14:38:00.000-08:00

Yesterday Paddy and I sat 8 feet from Jon Foreman.

He asked for our help to write the set list, and we happily complied.

Paddy kept trying to get a good picture, but something or someone kept getting in the way, as you can see by the pictures.

We got there three hours early, and it was a good thing, too, because we got front row seats--although "seats" isn't actualy the correct term. We got the front curb, as he was playing in the parking lot of Lou's Records, a music store he grew up going to.

It was just Jon on guitar and his friend Keith on cello. And for those of you who went to the Switchfoot/Relient K concert in Irvine, it was the same guy they brought out to help play the acoustic version of "Only Hope".

After sound check, Jon and Keith put their instruments away and charged us with their care while they went to get some coffee. They must have sensed the presence of a responsible Eagle in their midst.

Afterwards, we stood in line for about an hour, waiting to get autographs and to get to talk to both musicians. What reminded me to be patient was that if they were taking their time with each person, they would take their time with us. And they did! We got to get several pictures and actually talk to them. Both were gracious and appreciative of what we had to say! (Plus, Jon really liked Paddy's shirt.)

So went our short road trip--and one of the best days of my life, because I got to share it with Paddy!

Encinitas

2008-02-09T08:19:00.000-08:00

Today

I am going with Paddy

to see

Jon Foreman

live

for free.

WOOHOO!

From jonforeman.com:

Jon Foreman – acoustic instore at Lou’s – Saturday Feb 9th

Please join Jon as he performs songs in support of his Fall/Winter EP at Lou’s in Encinitas on Saturday Feb 9th at 2pm. Jon will also be signing copies of the Fall/Winter EP. Get there early!

Saturday February 9th 2pm

Lou’s Records

434 North Coast Highway 101

Encinitas, CA 92024

Speaking of random thoughts which flit...

2008-02-05T22:38:00.000-08:00

Why is it that we have to justify crappy things that happen to us with an equally crappy explanation?
"Everything happens for a reason!" Um, no it doesn't. People make dumb choices because we live in a messed up world. And then we have to live with the consequences of those choices, whether they were ours or not, even though God forgives us--it's called cause and effect.
But even our idiocy doesn't keep our powerful God from redeeming those situations, from creating beauty out of flawed or even horrendous elements.
So does God cause the ugliness and pain? I am thoroughly convinced that he does not. But he loves to take those very circumstances and turn them upside down; just take a look at Mark.

I'm currently working through a study which starts out each day with meditating on a short pericope, while asking God to speak to me through his word.
What?! Ask the author to help me understand what he's trying to say? What a novel idea!

Philip Yancey is speaking at Point Loma this Friday, and since I waited too long to get my ducks in a row, the tickets sold out before I could procure one. But on Saturday I'm going to Encinitas with Paddy to hear Jon Foreman! Woohoo!
Gudymente better memorize everything Yancey says, so he can give me a word-for-word account.

My business class got canceled. But I love my architecture class. We've been looking at how each major civilization pours their time into creating structures which portray what matters most in their culture. Sumerian ziggurats, Egyptian pyramids, Grecian acropolises, US skyscrapers--all with practical uses, yet also symbolic of where the power lies.
And somehow it is odd to my professor that almost all civilizations before the modern era tied that power to some sort of religious practice. More on this in Eclipse of Heaven. (Read it.)

It's Time

2008-01-26T01:19:00.000-08:00

Today I realized I'm ill-suited for my job.

I became extremely frustrated at my tendency to get angry when interrupted and my inability to accomplish anything.

A friend told me to make sure that when I run, I'm running to something rather than away from.

I looked online for apartments/prices/salaries in Northwestern Arkansas and Houston.

I'm comparing the University of Houston and the University of Arkansas/Fayetteville.

I bought this book.

Tho'ts

2008-01-20T18:14:00.000-08:00

Today I listened to a message about Peter and John going to the temple and healing the lame man (Acts 3), and was soon lost in my thoughts about the man they healed. He had probably given up praying for healing; he'd been that way since birth. But he did spend every day begging for money, for his needs to be met. And this day, instead of giving him what he wanted, God gave him what he really needed. He begged for money; God gave him legs that worked.

Yes, it seems like it would be better, but for the man, it would have sucked. His life was comfortable. He had his routine, he knew what he needed to do to get through the day; but when he was healed, everything changed.

He now had to provide for himself; he no longer had a reason to beg.
He'd have to find work, but his only skills lay in begging.
He'd have to learn a new skill, but he was 40 years old--hardly in the position for such a thing to come easy!

I wonder if, at the end of the day, after having spent hours dancing for joy, this man sat down and said, "Oh, crap. What the heck am I supposed to do tomorrow? Why didn't God give me a job along with the use of my legs? Couldn't he have just left me alone?"

How sad it would have been if he couldn't rejoice and look forward to a more full life, just because this change would demand more from him, more responsibility, more faith that God would lead him down the better--although more difficult--path.

And this is where I find myself. I was comfortable. My faith was getting me by in the place I was. I knew what I could expect from God and others, and God knew what he could expect from me.

But God has given me what I needed rather than what I asked for--and oh, how I had been begging for what I wanted! Now I've reached the end of my day of rejoicing, and looking forward, I'm terrified to see a long road ahead, a road marked with learning hard lessons, hard work, hard change; a hard life. And I'm tempted to say, "What the heck, God? If you've brought me here, why didn't you make the way forward a bit easier?"

However, what am I supposed to do? Sit back down and continue begging? No, I've been changed in order to forge forward, along the difficult path, to discover strength I never thought I had and blessings I never would have imagined could come so intertwined with the pain.

Fall & Winter

2008-01-18T19:03:00.000-08:00

Today I hit 100 plays for "The Moon is a Magnet".

If you haven't checked Jon Foreman out yet, you have a new opportunity. He just released his new ep "Winter", and it's worth every penny. You can listen to all 6 songs at myspace.com/jonforeman. As of today, each one has played more than 8,000 times--and that's since the release on Tuesday (4 days!)

I'm sure most of you think I'm crazy to even keep track, but here's the thing--these arrangements of strings, bass clarinet and harmonica have helped me keep my sanity in the last 7 weeks.

Listen in. You won't be sorry. And if you want to buy this introspective, melancholic collection, head over to jonforeman.com, where you can purchase one or both ep's at a discounted price of $5 each.

Quarter Life Crisis

2008-01-17T17:57:00.000-08:00

I've decided I'm not really an intellectual. For a long time I'd defined myself as such, and even had begun to amass large quantities of weighty books, which I then never read; I liked the look of them on my bookshelves. But I'm too lazy. I just like for people to think that I'm smart.

I've decided I own too much stuff. Going along with the amassing of books I've never read, and never really had plans to read, I've realized that I don't like owning a lot of things. I feel too stuck, too attached to where I physically am. My new resolve is to start getting rid of things, yes, even my books.

I've decided to become more mobile. Going along with getting rid of things, I hate the fact that I'm so attached to the physical place I am. I want to be able to pack everything I own in my car, and take off. I want to get rid of my debt so I can be free to go wherever and do whatever God has for me.

I've decided to learn a trade. I want to have a marketable skill (sorry Ozark), so I'm back in school. I don't want to be dependent on others' generosity to be able to live. Hence, I'm pursuing architecture, and then maybe I'll move to Chile and help my homeland move towards new urbanism.

help...?

2008-01-15T23:11:00.000-08:00

so...i'm told to vote for indian gaming expansion, to benefit my state without having to raise taxes.

then, i'm told to vote against the same expansion, because it's a front for other political causes, blah, blah, blah.

any insights by those who actually know what is going on (namely, the charlton brothers, although other not-so-informed voters within my circle of acquaintences are welcome to comment)? and, i need to know soon, because of the early deadline of voting by mail.

thanks!

On the use of my iPod

2008-01-10T14:42:00.000-08:00

fall

jon foreman's first ep of four

the cure for pain--55 plays

southbound train--59 plays
lord, save me from myself--57 plays

equally skilled--60 plays

the moon is a magnet--69 plays

my love goes free--54 plays

and counting.

all within the last 44 days (since acquiring the songs on november 28).

Caffeine to Inhibit my Sleep Receptors

2008-01-07T11:56:00.000-08:00

I just returned from class...my first in 4 1/2 years. Wow.

Every week, we'll be studying the history of a certain period and then its effects on structures. I'm so excited! Today we looked at how good architecture must have function, strength and grace or aesthetic beauty.

We looked at Notre Dame in Paris...the cathedral didn't need its roof to be 140 feet above the ground, but by building it that way, its designer caused the eye of most every observer to rise to the heavens, and thus, to feel closer to God. (Not to mention the awesome use of arches throughout the building!)

So what have I to look forward to? Only the amazingness of:
The Ancient World
Egypt
Classical Greece
The Roman Empire
Early Christian & Byzantine Era
Early Medieval
Gothic (of which Notre Dame is an example)
Renaissance
Baroque & Rococo
Age of Enlightenment
And all the diversity of the 19th & 20th centuries
Crystal Cathedral Field Trip

I think the only drawback is that my first exam (20% of my grade) is the day after the Oscars, and my second exam & midterm (40% of my grade) is the week after our Amor trip, so I'll miss the review.

I can't wait to receive my textbook in the mail.

Homesick

2008-01-05T15:36:00.000-08:00

I just finished watching "Diarios de Motocicleta". Why I waited so long, or what I thought it would be, I don't know, but the story so beautifully portrayed, has moved me.

For about 40 minutes, I was able to see the landscape of the land where I grew up which haunts me to this day--the towering, snowcapped Andes; the lush rainforest of the south, dotted with lakes and quaint towns of familiar architecture; the desolate yet majestic desert of the north; the weary gaze of the women in the market, and the youthful curiosity of a blooming generation. And I was taken back to a time and place not quite so hectic, much less muddled, and as much a part of my soul as my genetic code.

Why can't I go back to that place, if not that time? Why not simply take off as Ernesto Guevara did, to discover a world that is broken, and my place in it? Why do the depths of my being fear facing my past and the failures of who I've not yet become and the goals I've not yet accomplished?

¿Cómo es posible sentir nostalgia por algo que nunca conocí?

(min. 1:06)

What is there to look forward to after Christmas?

2008-01-05T09:45:00.000-08:00

It is officially awards season, which means that the Oscars aren't too far off! And this year Jon Stewart is hosting (although I'd still rather see Billy Crystal).

So mark your calendars for February 24--you're all invited to hang out with me! (And maybe this year, more than 3 people will show up.) The red carpet starts at 3 pm; the show starts at 5 pm. Bring a snack, and we'll make a day of it!

Movies to see before the show:

Gone, Baby, Gone--For Ben Affleck's directing, and Casey Affleck's acting

Michael Clayton--Performances by Tilda Swinton and George Clooney

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford--Performances by Casey Affleck and Brad Pitt

Before the Devil Knows You're Dead--Directing by Sidney Lumet and performance by Philip Seymour Hoffman

I'm Not There--Cate Blanchett's portrayal of Bob Dylan

Juno--Indie possibility for best picture; performance by Ellen Page

Atonement--Performances by James McAvoy (Tumnus the Faun and the young doctor in the Last King of Scotland) and Keira Knightley; also possibility for best picture

Lars and the Real Girl--Performance by Ryan Gosling

The Kite Runner--Possibility for best picture

A Mighty Heart--Performance by Angelina Jolie

Eastern Promises--Performance by Viggo Mortensen

Hit the Books!

2008-01-03T15:23:00.000-08:00

I am officially enrolled in two classes at Cerritos College.

Fundamentals of Supervision
Thursday Evenings
This is a business class that I hope will help me as I learn to better administrate the business side of church. I look forward to being better equipped to do my job even better!

History of Architecture

Monday Mornings

I've been interested in architecture since I was in high school. So I'm excited to get to actually explore this option, and see if it's a path I'd like to follow!

So many possibilities! I wonder where I'll end up.

'It's a dangerous thing, Frodo, going out your door. You step out onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you'll be swept off to.'

Auld Lang Syne

2008-01-01T08:12:00.000-08:00

Palmier cookies hurriedly made at the last minute: Check.

Hair & makeup: Check.

French/Mexican hosts, who together are amazing chefs, bar tenders, and all-around lovely people: Check.

Beautiful newly redecorated house with a pool and hot tub: Check.

One adorable baby who seems determined to make it all the way to midnight: Check.

One cheese plate that definitely includes a wheel of brie: Check.

One DJ with a laptop and excellent taste in music: Check.

A pair of Mexican men who love singing boleros and rancheras, even while the DJ is playing something else: Check.

Twelve grapes for good luck in the new year, to cram in my mouth during the 12 strokes of midnight: Check.

An assortment of noisemakers: Check.

An especially noisy Chilean who isn't afraid to use them, despite death glares from his wife: Check.

And the results are a particularly agreeable evening spent ringing in the new year.

Winter Solstice

2007-12-29T01:52:00.001-08:00

I went back to Missouri for Christmas, and was there for the beginning of winter. In fact, it snowed a bit during my second day in Carl Junction.

Less than 24 hours after arriving in Missouri, I left for Fayetteville, Springdale and Rogers, Arkansas with some friends to visit an old bookstore, eat one of the best burgers of my life, and ice skate for free. (I love road trips with friends. Or without. I just like driving places.)

AND I got to hang out with Luis, one of my best friends from Chile, who recently married Katie, a classmate of mine from Ozark. It was sweet to see them together, since I knew both of them even before they met each other.

On our way back to Missouri, we drove through Rogers, AR, and looked at a new impressive church building, which had 3 amazingly huge crosses at the edge of a pond, in which they baptize people. (The white spot at the bottom, in between the crosses, is where my friends were standing.) I’m especially proud of these pictures, although the lighting was weird to work with.

I also met my brother’s puppy, Doug the Pug. He is pretty cute, but I think he truly believes that he’s a human.

I’m more poor than I have been in past years, so I made a lot of my gifts this year. Here Matt and Ashley (my brother and his wife) are displaying the matching hat & scarf sets I made for them. And then my brother seemed to think that the purse I made her was actually a hat. (I must add that I do like my sister-in-law. She's fun.)

Christmas Eve Day, my dad’s family came over, and so I got to see my two favorite cousins. We were only able to talk for about 2 hours, but it was really good to see Michael and Maria. Maria invited me to come live with her in Tulsa, and the truth is, that sounds like a lot of fun. She and I are simply silly around each other, and really enjoy one another’s company. Plus, I really like Tulsa. So who knows what my future holds.

Did you know that mistletoe was the Oklahoma state flower until 2004? And that it is actually a parasite? I found out when we visited Mom’s family. We went on a walk after lunch on Christmas Day, and I found some in the wild.

I also got to have coffee with one of my best friends in the world, Ceri. She had just gotten back (as in, an hour before hanging out with me) from visiting her family in Ohio with her husband, Jason. She was exhausted from having been in the car for 12 hours, so it took us a while to get a good picture—13 tries, to be exact. This was the best one.

My brother is one of my most favorite people in the world. Even though he's quiet, he's hilarious! As you can probably tell from the pictures, he is adopted, but has been with us since he was 5 months old. Once, when we had company for dinner, my sister referred to him as "the one we do not speak of." He totally got a kick out of going along with it, to the horror of our guests.

So I take advantage of any moment I might get to spend with Matt. He tried to teach me to play Halo3 the night before I left, which was really sweet, because I’m not very good at video games. He hung back part of the time to protect me when others (namely Cory, Paddy and Liam) were hunting me down. I only got one kill all night, but it was supremely satisfying, as it was Cory, and he didn’t even realize I was the one who killed him. (And by the way, Cory, you can keep the Switchfoot pick. I won’t be needing it.)

As I flew back on the small Express Jet aircraft, we were moving into the west at sundown, which means that the sunset lasted about 4 hours. Pretty impressive, actually, as the sun and sky took on all the normal hues, but didn’t fade immediately. What beauty!

And now I’m glad to be back. I’ve never been really close to my extended family (since I grew up on another continent), but it was a good trip. It is simply hard to go back home. As Jon Foreman put so well, I'm not so sure that home is a place you can still get to by train. Or by airplane.

And as he also wrote, every lament is a love song. But that is a story for a different audience.

Honesty

2007-12-27T22:45:00.000-08:00

Be careful, because when you ask God to break you so that he can mold you into a more perfect image of his son, he just might.

And it sucks.

A Few of My Favorite Things

2007-12-14T01:13:00.000-08:00

In no particular order:

Relient K and Switchfoot concert with Paddy

Adam Sandler's Chanukah songs--all three of them

A hot cup of Earl Grey or Amaretto tea

Niall's hugs

Unexpected gifts in the mail

Jon Foreman's new EP

Striped toe socks

Stepping into an outside muted by falling snow

My red iPod from Gudymente

Stories with which to get caught up in their immensity

Watching superhero movies with Trevor

Talking with Solomon over a cup of coffee

Mom's cooking and Dad's homemade bread

A Week of Farewell

2007-09-27T17:42:00.000-07:00

Paddy's just been gone 5 days, and I miss him. However, I got to spend the best week with him before he left. For example, I got to give him a haircut, the second he's gotten from me.

And then we went to six flags where we got to stand in line a lot. And about 2 hours of that was in the rain, which, because he had called me the night before, I was prepared for, with my heavy-duty storm jacket. It made for a long day, though, as the rides kept having to stop for extra maintenance because of the rain. So Paddy slept wherever he could find a spot. Unfortunately for him, I don't think that the walls leading into Riddler's Revenge were very clean.

Here's Paddy, going up on our first ride of the day (which was at about 2, because of the rain), Riddler's Revenge. I think that's Tatzu in the background...we got an awesome view of the park as we were going up. The view was better from Goliath (I had the privilege to share this coaster with Paddy for his first time!), but my camera battery was dead by then.

And here he is with Katie, about to ride Tatzu for the first time. We decided it certainly was a rush, although not quite as much as X (that ride wasn't for the faint-hearted!).

I'm surely going to miss him...

On Being Good

2007-07-13T11:19:00.000-07:00

Ungodliness is not always about the really bad people. Sometimes it is about the really good people who are more restrictive than God...
If we're not careful, we too will equate being good with loving Jesus.
--Joseph M. Stowell

My life's journey has mostly been about being good. Not too long ago, my way of looking at people was something like this:
Good Behavior & Habits = Godly
Bad Behavior & Habits = Ungodly

And while it was my working definition for those I met and lived alongside, this is in fact how I defined myself.

And then I went to college and God threw me in the path of people who were good, but who weren't very loving or accepting. But I also met people that, while weren't so good, they seemed to have a clearer view of God, his grace, and his love for people.

That's when I began to discover that being good isn't all it's cracked up to be, especially if it set me up to judge others and to elevate myself as better than them. Nor was it helpful when I would fail my own impossible standards, and feel the same judgment come crashing down on me.

I certainly haven't arrived at the end of my journey; I still struggle with judging others (and myself) for not being good enough. But I'm also joyfully discovering that my lack of goodness is what drives me towards God. And that moves me to love him even more.

The Way I See It #200

2007-06-21T01:14:00.000-07:00

Off my Starbucks cup—with apologies to Solomon:
“There’s a difference between interest and commitment. When you’re interested in doing something, you do it only when circumstances permit. When you’re committed to something, you accept no excuses, just results.”
--Art Turock

Now, while Art is an entrepreneur, and as such, is applying this to the business world, I think this applies to our whole lives, and certainly to the most central part: our spiritual lives.

Too often I have known people who are interested in being Christians…they go to church, they participate in the activities, they read their Bibles—as long as nothing else comes up. They would consider themselves good people, on their way to heaven; surely God will honor their interest!

But in truth, they are giving half-hearted efforts. They will live a degree of faith as long as they are not inconvenienced to interrupt the rest of their lives. Their identity comes from what they do and who they know—not who God has called them to be.

However, I also know people who are committed to God and the life to which he has called all humanity. While they recognize their deficiencies and the war between what they are comfortable with and what they know they are called to, they also refuse to give up. They realize that their commitment is not convenient—nor is it meant to be—but it is important, their first priority, and as such, minor things give in to its weight.

And while I would like to classify myself in the committed category, I know my heart too well. There are times when my spiritual walk slips into last place, and other priorities clamor for my attention. I become interested in acting like a Christian, instead of letting God take control of my life. The choices I make which determine how I relate to others, how I entertain myself, the thoughts I feed into my mind—all this is a reflection of my priorities, of where my commitment lies.

I know the cost—it demands all of me, who I am in the very core of my being. How much worth is Christ to me? Can I section off my life, and give him only what I’m comfortable with?

I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith.
I want to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, sharing in his suffering and becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.
Not that I’ve already gotten there, or that I’ve already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. I know my deficiencies. But I also know this: only by forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead will I be able to arrive where I’ve always wanted—at the finish line, holding the prize of a faith well-lived.
(loose paraphrase by me)

So what’s it worth to me? And am I willing to pay the cost?

Die Hard

2007-06-12T18:34:00.000-07:00

I've shared my love of the Die Hard movies with Trevor...and now we can't wait for #4 to come out. So...Die Hard or Live Free!

Too Much Fun...In a Bounce House

2007-04-26T13:27:00.000-07:00

Enough said...

Borders

2007-04-26T12:24:00.000-07:00

Sunday evenings usually find me hanging out at Borders, reading and just kicking back. This week Paddy and I were the only ones to be able to make it. He found an illustrated guide to all things X-men, and I discovered a history of the world, told by quotes from contemporary literature, as well as a book on how to interpret your dreams. We made ourselves comfortable, determined to not budge until it was announced that Borders had closed for the evening.

In the book of quotes, I discovered a quirky bit of

sarcasm penned by Tertullian, c. 200 AD.

"If the Tiber rises so high it floods the walls, or the Nile so low it doesn't flood the fields, if the earth opens, or the heavens don't, if there is famine, if there is plague, instantly the howl goes up, 'The Christians to the lion!' What, all of them? to a single lion?"

Now, as we were expanding our minds, this little guy settled in next to me. He took a look at the large tomes at my feet, and proceeded to read his book--"The Welder's Handbook". It was good to see that kids can be so decisive about a career at such an early age.

My Messy House

2007-02-27T10:37:00.000-08:00

Lent is upon us, and as part of my pre-Easter preparation, I am going through an anthology of writings, Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter. The first of these, by Kathleen Norris, seemed especially apt to begin the season.

My Messy House

When I'm working as an artist-in-residence at parochial schools, I like to read the psalms out loud to inspire the students, who are usually not aware that the snippets they sing at Mass are among the greatest poems in the world. But I have found that when I have asked children to write their own psalms, their poems often have an emotional directness that is similar to that of the biblical psalter. They know what it's like to be small in a world designed for big people, to feel lost and abandoned. Children are frequently astonished to discover that the psalmists so freely express the more unacceptable emotions, sadness and even anger, even anger at God, and that all of this is in the Bible that they hear read in church on Sunday morning.

Children who are picked on by their big brothers and sisters can be remarkably adept when it comes to writing cursing psalms, and I believe that the writing process offers them a safe haven in which to work through their desires for vengeance in a healthy way. Once a little boy wrote a poem called "The Monster Who Was Sorry." He began by admitting that he hates it when his father yells at him: his response in the poem is to throw his sister down the stairs, and then to wreck his room, and finally to wreck the whole town. The poem concludes: "Then I sit in my messy house and say to myself, 'I shouldn't have done all that.'"

"My messy house" says it all: with more honesty than most adults could have mustered, the boy made a metaphor for himself that admitted the depth of his rage and also gave him a way out. If that boy had been a novice in the fourth-century monastic desert, his elders might have told him that he was well on the way towards repentance, not such a monster after all, but only human. If the house is messy, they might have said, why not clean it up, why not make it into a place where God might wish to dwell?

A Thing of Beauty

2007-01-11T17:31:00.000-08:00

Few players can place the ball exactly where they want it, but David Beckham has won my respect and admiration for plays just like this one.

Notice the spin he puts on the ball, the way the ball skims the top of the jumping wall of defenders, and the exact placement in the upper left-hand corner, just out of the reach of the goal keeper.

Genius.

And he's coming to LA.

If ever there was a cause for celebration, this is it.

When I Was Small by Adrian Plass

2006-12-19T13:04:00.000-08:00

I've been heartbroken lately because of different situations which some friends have been going through, and i was reminded of a poem by one of my favorite contemporary British authors.

when i was small
i didn't know the world had fallen long ago
i stumbled often, fell from trees
enjoyed the pride of bloodied knees
and banks were made for rolling down
or sliding when the snow had come

my bones would bend more easily
even when they broke they mended soon
and people gave me things to cheer me up

i once went sledging with a friend at night
he didn't trust the moon and he was right
it slipped away as we began our ride
but i was glad; i loved the dark
for all i cared we could have sledged into eternity
i wished that pale, hissing dream would never end
it did. i have the scars

i still have all the scars from all the falls
and mainly on my knees
but somewhere deep inside where no one ever sees
i have some other scars that never seem to heal
the cause of them i cannot now recall
but then i didn't know the world had fallen long ago
when i was small.

2006-12-14T18:17:00.000-08:00

Kurt Browning 2006 Ice Wars Technical Program

For me, winter means watching figure skating. And I know a lot of people think that it is a girlie sport, if a sport at all, but I don't think there's anything girlie about this program by Kurt Browning.

Travel

2006-11-15T12:41:00.000-08:00

Lately when I travel, I've found the experience to be deeply moving. And especially when I travel alone, my senses seem to be more in tune with spiritual truth than usual. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that, by simply stepping foot in the airport, I am entering a sort of limbo which can only be exited by reaching my destination. I am already gone from where I used to be, but have not yet arrived where I am going. For the extent of my travel, I live between two worlds, without really being part of either one. I am a sojourner, a pilgrim, seeking her way home.

As I step into this black hole where time seems to come to a standstill, mundane distractions melt into a fog, and I am suddenly alone with my thoughts. As my eyes feast on the beauty and the minute detail of God's creation spread out beneath me, I marvel at the imagination of my Creator, who has not only surrounded my life with physical beauty, but who has opened my eyes to see his spiritual beauty as well. I marvel at the laws of aerodynamics which keep this aircraft thousands of feet up in the air. I wonder at the delicate intricacy of each different kind of cloud. And I am humbled.

My heart wells up in praise. In such a world, what is man? Why do you pay attention to us? Why do you care for us? Why do you fill our lives with so many blessings?

And then the landing gear makes contact, I alight from this time warp with life taking up where it left off, and I run the risk of forgetting to express what has welled up in my soul.

Thank you.

14 days!

2006-10-19T17:53:00.000-07:00

Amy's stuff is in my garage.
It's waiting for her to come move in.
It can't wait for her to unpack.
Even her bicycle is mournfully awaiting her arrival.
It's tired of sitting in the dark all day.
Now that summer is gone, it's starting to get cold at night.
How her stuff wishes November 2 would just get here.

Alas, I feel the same as Amy's stuff.

Musings on a Fine Autumn Day

2006-10-19T11:20:00.000-07:00

Last night was quite exciting for me--I got to wear socks to bed! Now, this may not sound like a highlight to other people, but this event truly filled my little heart with joy. You see, I grew up in a place with no central heating. So at night during the winter, all our kerosene space heaters would get turned off and we would slide beneath the five blankets which were piled on our beds. But even before that came the ritual of getting dressed for bed. I would don several layers, including a warm pair(s) of socks. And then I would snuggle down for another night.
Nocturnal sock time is here again for me. Oh, the comfort of childhood memories!

As I was getting ready for work this morning, I heard a thump on the roof, and then something outside the front door. After a while, I heard another noise, so I ventured out to see. This is what I found:

Feathers were scattered everywhere along the walkway. I wonder if the bird was suicidal, or if he was assisted to an untimely end.

Ecuador Tables

2006-09-22T14:02:00.000-07:00

The tables have been painted!

When our team was in Ecuador, part of our work consisted in making these tables for the church's children's program. Some spent countless hours sanding the wood (thanks Trevor!) and others actually putting them together (thanks Greg and Trent!). And now Marcelo, the missionary, has finished painting them. Here they are, lined up in the church back yard/patio area. They look so pretty!

Please be praying for the church. They have until the end of September to come up with the remaining $40,000 to pay for the property they are currently renting (they already have about $20,000). Otherwise, they will have to move from their current facilities, but there are no other places available in their area.

If you would like to contribute, make it out to Iberoamerican Ministries, with " El Recreo - Ecuador Church Construction" in the memo, and send it to:

IberoAmerican Ministries

PO Box 1493

Monroe, WA 98272

2006-09-19T16:35:00.000-07:00

"I don't love God.
I don't want to love God.
But I want to want to love God."

Some days I realize that I really don't love God very much. Besides my morning Bible reading, most of the time he doesn't even cross my mind until I lay my weary body down to sleep. My mind has been trained to think in "christian" patterns, which result in "christian" actions or non-actions, all seemingly on autopilot. But do these come as a result of loving God? I seriously have my doubts.

Other days I know that I don't even want to love God. My sinful patterns catch up with me and I realize that I haven't truly surrendered. If I really wanted to love God, wouldn't my life display that desire? Wouldn't I be doing things that would bring glory to God? The harsh reality is that I stumble. A lot. And that is when I am convinced that my life doesn't even reflect a desire to love God.

But I know that deep down I do long to want to love God. I want my life to be marked by that passion, that dedication, that whole-hearted pursuit, even though I know that I haven't fully surrendered. I want to want to love God. I know that as I continue to cultivate my heart, continually turning to God for everything, I will one day be able to say that I truly want to love God, and maybe even, years down the road, I will have learned to love God. While I'm not quite there yet, I think that even so, God is honored by my desire and my constant struggle to not give in to complacency. After all, our journey with God is just as important as our destination.

"Bring it on"?

2006-09-12T09:28:00.000-07:00

Note to self: Never, ever again, under any circumstances, tell God to bring it on. Ever.

Recent Travel

2006-09-06T16:47:00.000-07:00

Travel for me often includes a journey of the soul. I have a tendency to turn introspective and often arrive altered in more than one aspect.

Last week I left LAX with grand hopes of being of great use to my dear friend Ceri, who got married on Saturday. I like being useful. And this is why I arrived four days before the big event. But once there, I encountered something unpleasant and unexpected: life for my friends in Missouri had gone on.

Why is it that while we live and even anticipate change in our own lives, we are so shocked when we encounter it in others' lives, especially those we haven't seen in a while?

I used to be one of Ceri's go-to people, because of our friendship and my proximity. But now I live far away, and once I arrived, most everything was done, and I felt a bit unneeded. We didn't even really have a chance to sit and connect through conversation as I love to do. And given the magnitude of the upcoming day and the fact that her family was in town, it was perfectly reasonable that what I would have loved to do was impossible. Yet without realizing it, I had that unexpressed expectation. And the actual day of her wedding was filled with melancholy for me. Not that I wish my life were different; I am ecstatically content with where God has me right now. But the truth is, another one of my friends has moved on with her life into a place where I cannot follow. Everything has changed.

On the other hand, I got to share special moments with family members. My fraternal grandmother is close to 90 years old, and each time I see her I know it just may be my last chance to share with her. We went to her favorite restaurant to eat their famous fried chicken. She took home everyone's bones to feed the neighborhood cats, just as she always does. My brother took me to lunch, which was a first. I felt so grown up, like we were finally both adults, independent from Mom and Dad. My Papa (mother's side) had his 79th birthday on Sunday, and was overjoyed that I could share the day with him.

My parents now have no children to look after, and it is amazing to see how close they have grown. They've been married for 32 years now, and enjoy each other's company more than ever. My dad has reverted to the goofiness which characterized his childhood and which hardly ever came out during my childhood, when the pressures of living overseas and supporting a family on a missionary salary were weighing him down. And my mom's life is full. She is teaching Spanish at a community adult school and is my dad's companion on all of his trips. While she would love for her children to live a little closer, she has always encouraged us to follow God's calling, whether that takes us next door or halfway across the country. I know she would be supportive if I was convinced that God wanted me to move to the slums of overpopulated India.

I am greatly blessed to have such a family.

But when I flew out of the Tulsa airport on Sunday, I had no idea what to expect from my next destination. There was one more stop in my travel. My friend and mentor, Lori, had just moved to Houston with her family. When in college, their home was a haven and a place of renewal where I went to do laundry, jump on the trampoline, talk out my latest frustrations concerning life as a college student, receive words of wisdom and encouragement, and be prayed for. Especially during the long separation from my family, the Tischlers became my adopted family, and I, the eldest of their daughters.

While different seasons of life require different kinds of people and influences, there also exist those relationships which may change, but never weaken. So it is with the Tischlers.

How can I even begin to describe with words how deeply they are anchored in my heart? And once again, their home was a place of restoration and encouragement. We spoke of change, about the amazing way that God uses even the smallest details in our lives to direct us to places where we will face challenges and have an impact for his kingdom, about the ways we try to force God into our own plans for our lives, about growing up on the mission field, about how sometimes life really stinks--yet God remains faithful. We rejoiced together because of new opportunities and shared the difficulties of moving somewhere completely new--especially the challenges their two teenaged daughters are facing.

After these two incredible days, I feel refreshed and confident. God has meant for this life to be an adventure. So whatever it is, I think I'm ready. Bring it on! (Although, God, please not all at once. And not the really hard things, either...)

2 Hours of My Day

2006-08-10T12:27:00.000-07:00

“Hey, do you have a minute? I’m stuck on a phone call, and there’s this homeless guy downstairs that needs help.”

I wanted to say that no, I was too busy. But this being the ministry, and the ministry being my life (to a certain extent), I sighed and said yes. Without realizing it, I had just committed the next two hours of my day, a day which needed to be filled by other activities, such as important paperwork and phone calls.

But I went downstairs. Frank was sitting there next to the phone, waiting for someone to help him. He had a handful of note cards on which he’d written phone numbers. Since he is going blind, he needs someone to dial the numbers for him, and to look up new numbers. First order was to try to find a criminal lawyer who could help him with his overdue tickets, both for parking and panhandling. He’d missed one of his court dates already, and was wondering if a lawyer could help him. The second thing he was looking for was a lawsuit lawyer. He had tripped on some steps in front of McDonald’s, and was wondering if he had a case. Then we tried finding a shelter/food pantry where he could go to get some new clothes, since he needed to replace the ones on his back.

“I used to joke about what I’d give up just to get my eyesight back, but now I really mean it; I would give up both my arms, just to be able to see again.”

I sat close by, dialing the phone as he needed it, hearing each secretary refer him to someone else. His body odor overwhelmed me, and although it was not extremely unpleasant, it was definitely hard to ignore. At each rejection or recorded message, the receiver would come down as he rubbed his fully bearded face. “Relief is coming soon. I just need to get some nicotine in me.”

I have no idea what it’s like to not have a home. Oh, sure, I’ve been displaced plenty of times as a missionary kid; it comes with the territory. But to not have a place to go take a nap? Or to keep my belongings? Or to find refuge from inclement weather?

As Frank left, muttering something about nicotine and a nap in the park, I was glad to see him go, so that I could return to my “normal” life and schedule. But I’m also thankful for that brief interruption to my day. I’m never meant to live in my circle of comfort, cut off from the rest of the world. Glimpses like this make me realize that my life is not my own, and my plans for each day should be more conformed to God’s agenda.

Thank you, Frank.

New from Philip Yancey!

2006-08-08T14:44:00.000-07:00

Yancey's long awaited work is finally here! It's called Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference? Zondervan says it's not coming out until October, BUT you can pre-order it to come the first of September, at a discount from Christian Book Distributors. A brand new, hardback book, at a 40% discount, written by Philip Yancey--what more could you ask for? Seriously.

Saturday

2006-08-08T04:49:00.000-07:00

Oh, torturous Friday, whose blood flowed from my own heart
Whose angry mob kills the only hope I dared have
Whose pain and guilt became my own

Oh, impatient Saturday, whose end seems to never come
Whose claws close in on my struggling faith
Whose dark nightfall will one day be broken by the most magnificent awakening

Oh, glorious Sunday, whose future brilliance shines hope into the night of my life
Whose anticipation gives me purpose and reason
Whose long awaited trumpet blast wakes my slumbering soul

And then I shall finally be free of myself

*inspired by the last page in Yancey's The Jesus I Never Knew

Questions from a cynical heart

2006-08-02T09:52:00.000-07:00

Why is it that I become so cynical when people share about God's calling in their life?

How can we truly, really know when God has called us to something, especially something so specific? Why do youth ministers, who have clearly heard "God's call" to go into ministry, only last 18 months, on average? Do we really hear God? or do we mis-hear him? Could it be that he desires all his children go into ministry, and so we feel him move in us, but then our preconceived ideas of ministry make us try to squeeze that desire into our boxes of fulltime ministry--missionary, pastor, children's minister, youth pastor? What if God desires that we minister where we are, whether a fulltime pastor, teacher, doctor, lawyer, engineer, business man? Could it be that our definition of ministry is too small, too confined and too stagnant for the creative, resourceful and strength-giving God that we serve?

Why is it that so often we go back on our promises to God? Do we think he'll just understand? We feel him in us, and we respond by promising our life away, but is that what he really wanted from us? Maybe, could it be, that God wants our availability more than our promises? After all, when Jephthah made a rash promise to God in a moment of spiritual fervor (Judges 11:29-40), God held him to it, and he ended up having to sacrifice his very own daughter; would he not have wished to take that promise back? Why do we think our promises to God can be taken so lightly that within a year we will have denied them with the very direction our life has taken? Why do we think that by simply wanting and deeply desiring it we will fulfill our promises when we consistently make decisions that take us further and further away from our commitment?

Is this cynicism, then, reasonable and expected, after having seen so many misdirected promises? Or is there hope for my cynical heart?

Ecuador was...

2006-07-18T09:23:00.000-07:00

In telling of the mission trip I led to Ecuador, I have to borrow words from Adrian Plass:
I cannot [tell my experience] in words.How should I spell despair, excitement, joy, and grief,Amazement, anger, certainty and unbelief?

I grew attached to Gabriela, a twelve-year-old girl whose mother sells herself to men. Our friendship blossomed, we studied the Bible together, and I was able to baptize her.

Out of our team of eleven, I was one of two translators, and despite a cold, was able to spend much of my time building linguistic bridges between languages and cultures.

What more? It seems to all be a muddle to me. What I do know is that I have been sad ever since I got back. And I don't think that it had to do with saying goodbye to my dear friends in Ecuador and Peru; I was prepared to have to say goodbye to them. Rather, I miss my teammates from Downey. For two weeks, I was needed and appreciated and loved. I had something to give, something that others esteemed. I had grown really close to these people, through shared conversations and experiences. It had become OK to be affectionate, because I was in a country where that is socially acceptable (and those who know me, know how much I love giving and getting hugs!).

I guess I was unprepared for the shock of returning to "real life". It's not that I'm seeking to continue some sort of mountain top experience, but rather, I discovered how much I enjoy facilitating experiences for others. Whether it's helping others discover the freedom of a life in Christ, or translating so people can understand each other, or simply talking about life and faith, I love to be a part of it. And when I returned to Downey, I realized that I don't do much of that on a regular basis.

At the same time, God used this time to heal some things that had been in my life for a while. I've been able to let go of a lot of things, by the simple act of stepping out of my comfort zone, and finding new friends that have nothing to do with those other situations. In comparison, my inner life seems very full now, and the future looks a little brighter.

Pondering Discipleship in an Instant Society

2006-04-27T13:11:00.000-07:00

From my last post, and the length of time I let go between posts, I may have given the impression that the way I've dealt with those mistakes was by jumping off a bridge. Not so. I am alive and kicking, and still thinking, although much busier. All that to say...

I've been reading A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, by Eugene Peterson. Here is one of the passages that has moved me.

There is nothing I am less good at than love. I am far better in competition than in love. I am far better at responding to my instincts and ambitions to get ahead and make my mark than I am at figuring out how to love another. I am schooled and trained in acquisitive skills, in getting my own way. And yet I decide, every day, to set aside what I can do best and attempt what I do very clumsily--open myself to the frustrations and failures of loving, daring to believe that failing in love is better than succeeding in pride.

These words spoke to my heart, because I am not good at loving. And yet, since I fear failing, I am often tempted to give up. When I do, my pride rises up and escorts me into a familiar place of selfish loneliness, whispering in my ear its poisonous words about my worth. Why do I not realize that true failure is found in giving up? How can I convince myself that to be in motion for God, no matter what the visible outcome, will bring about greater joy and success than I could ever imagine?

A Big Mistake

2005-10-13T13:30:00.000-07:00

Today has been marked by mistakes. A number of poor choices I've made in the past few months have caught up with me and I have spent the majority of my day asking people for forgiveness and feeling awkward with my life. Ranging from venting to someone who later transmitted my offensive rant to the very person of whom it was about, to having a perpetually messy room, my life seems to be spiraling out of my control.

And I'm tempted to believe that what I should really be doing is apologizing for my life. I'm sorry that I've over-committed myself so as to not have the mental/emotional/spiritual energy to make wiser choices. I'm sorry that I haven't spent time with God to drink in his wisdom. I'm sorry I had to open my big mouth (and fingers) and say things that not only reflected poorly on other people, but made me look like a JERK and an IDIOT. I'm sorry that Erick is in turmoil right now about our relationship because I'm not sure about it. I don't know what I think.

Today should have been a day to spend in bed, staying out of the way and hoping people would forget my existence, and thus, my offending ways. Today is a day to cry out with Job, "I am disgusted with my life. Let me complain freely. I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.... If I am guilty, too bad for me. And even if I'm innocent, I am filled with shame and misery so that I can't hold my head high.... Why, then, did you bring me out of my mother's womb? Why didn't you let me die at birth? Then I would have been spared this miserable existence. I would have gone directly from the womb to the grave."

Today is a day that I feel like my life is a mistake.

The Sun is Shining

2005-09-20T11:52:00.000-07:00

Raindrops are randomly running down the window, making the wall which is just outside of my office look a little more bleary than usual. The sky is overcast and thunder can be heard in the distance. All this is highly unusual for Southern California in September.

But within me, the sun is brightly shining, even to the degree of a blinding light. Last night I was sung to (song: "Green Eyes" by Coldplay) and then asked to be a girlfriend. Wow. No kiss was ever sweeter than that given when he told me that he had talked to my dad and gotten his blessing.

Today life is beautiful.

unsettled

2005-08-31T11:11:00.000-07:00

like a still pond beginning to ripple, disturbed by a falling leaf
like a stone rolling downhill, beginning an avalanche
like a child chosen last for a ball game
like an inexperienced skier at the top of a slope

left over, yet on the verge of something
totally expended, but with so much potential, so much to give
to spin the wheels and have them meet firm ground!
to see the end before embarking on the journey!
to walk by sight rather than by faith!

where to go? what to do? which road in the yellow wood?
what of the road already traveled? of the voice spoken to the heart?
to be able to cling to be immovable rock and not let go . . . !

2005-08-21T04:48:00.000-07:00

As my 25th birthday rapidly approaches, I've been thinking a lot: what have I done with my life? What have I to show for the years of life I've been given? Am I following God's will? What does the future hold? Dare I put down roots in Downey? What things in my life need to change?

I've been reading in 2 Kings, about how some kings were bad, others worse, and others were actually good and followed God. But even with the good ones, there were varying degrees of godliness. Only a few followed God like David, removing the necessary things from the kingdom and their subjects' lives . The rest of the good kings loved God, but not like king David, because they left the high places and the Asherah poles, which led to the people's downfall, as they reverted back to old habits, traditions of godlessness. And of course, I count myself in with those whose heart was like David, following God so carefully. But instead, I think I might just belong in the Asherah pole-loving group, those who kept their high places of worship. I know that their are things in my life that I have sealed and marked as "off limits" to God; what are they? The fact that I can't even easily identify them seems to be a sign of complacency, of having become so comfortable with them that I don't even recognize anymore that they don't belong here.

I long for my Asherah poles to be cut down, for my high places to be smashed. For I, "except you enthrall me, never shall be free, nor ever chaste, except You ravish me."

Where The Darkness of my Heart Know No Bounds

2005-07-16T11:37:00.000-07:00

Formerly titled "Where Feces Dot the Landscape"

I made my way through the streets of Samborondón, Ecuador, picking my way between the piles of animal droppings that covered the unpaved roads. My flip flops were thin, and certainly no match for the sharp rocks and rusty nails that lined my path. I had been sticky before leaving the church, having covered myself in mosquito repellent, but now, as the sun beat down on our group, my sweat began to mingle with the repellent, creating a truly unwelcome experience on my skin. Unpleasant smells wafted up to my nose.

My cold was getting worse, despite (or perhaps because of?) the sweltering heat. As I blew my nose one more time, I tried to focus on my surroundings rather than my rapidly deteriorating mood. We were passing marshy areas, where houses were built directly over the green waters on precarious beams. Some residents had begun to build brick houses, as opposed to the bamboo constructions which surrounded them, but for reasons unknown, had been unable to finish them, and now the local flora had taken over. We passed a house built entirely of concrete which had been recently painted. I silently wondered if drug dealers lived there, since it looked like a mansion in comparison to the other houses. On the few rough, unfinished brick walls of the neighborhood, names of political candidates had been painted, adding a limited amount of color to our drab surroundings.

Children could be heard, playing both indoors and out. Animals of all kinds, ranging from mangy dogs to sparsely-feathered ducks and turkeys to dirty pigs, wallowed in the dust and mud. Adults, mainly weary women, went about their daily chores. They washed, cooked and scrubbed, all the while keeping their shoulders slumped. Any twinkle that may have resided in their eyes before was now long gone. Disappointment seemed to mark their every step.

As I walked, I wondered what I was doing here. I like to think that I am a compassionate person, but now I am starkly aware that I have limits on showing compassion. I like to serve others as long as I am within my comfort zone. I will gladly send money to my "adopted" child in Thailand. And I can write notes easily enough to encourage missionaries around the world from the safety and security of my computer. Sure, I'll willingly give someone a ride, if it's on my way. And I'll read an occasional missionary biography, so I feel good that I'm opening my mind to other people and their needs.

But maybe my heart also contains the black seed that is within these people. However, where their blackness comes out in more visible ways, such as adultery, drunkenness, satanic rituals, thievery and homosexuality, mine fills the dark recesses of my soul with pride, arrogance, selfishness, judgmentalism and impatience. And the consequences of their choices, like poverty, abuse, suicide and families torn to shreds, are viewed by most to be ugly welts in the social fabric. However, the consequences of my sin are self-aggrandizement, isolation, loneliness, pushing others away, and the loss of sensitivity in my heart. These infect society at every level and are just as destructive (or dare I say more destructive?) to the human soul.

I am no better than these people, despite my great comforts at home, despite the fact that I make more in a month than entire families make in a year. Any my closet, despite being more sparse and older than those of most of my friends, would be considered to hold the clothing of a queen. And yet, I am no worse than them either, despite their contentment and joyful community living. God created us both, and loves us equally, an idea which is so difficult for me to grasp.

I have been humbled. God took me through a difficult journey to discover the blackness of my own heart. Yet I return to my home blessed, full of thankfulness. My view of the world has changed, and I pray that it will never again be the same.

creativeness in work

2005-07-01T17:59:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I leave for Ecuador, and will not have time to write for a while. So, taking the easy way out, here are a couple of quotes from Dorothy L. Sayers, as her thoughts have been in my mind lately.

"...the fallacy being that work is not the expression of man's creative energy in the service of Society, but only something he does in order to obtain money and leisure...
if a man's fulfilment of his nature is to be found in the full expression of his divine creativeness, then we urgently need a Christian doctrine of work, which shall provide, not only for proper conditions of employment, but also that the work shall be such as a man may do with his whole heart, and that he shall do it for the very work's sake."

and another:

"If that's the way your mind works, you'll be a writer one day," said Wimsey.

"Do you think so? How funny! That's what I want to be. But why?"

"Because you have the creative imagination, which works outwards, till finally you will be able to stand outside your own experience and see it as something you have made, existing independently of yourself. You're lucky."

"Do you really think so?" Hilary looked excited.

"Yes--but your luck will come more at the end of life than at the beginning, because the other sort of people won't understand the way your mind works. They will start by thinking you dreamy and romantic, and then they'll be surprised to discover that you are really hard and heartless. They'll be quite wrong both times--but they won't ever know it, and you won't know it at first, and it'll worry you."

"But that's just what the girls say at school. How did you know? . . . Though they're all idiots--mostly, that is."

"Most people are," said Wimsey, gravely, "but it isn't kind to tell them so. I expect you do tell them so. Have a heart; they can't help it. . . ."

so goes the dialogue between Wimsey and a sixteen-year old girl.

the intellect

2005-06-24T11:42:00.000-07:00

I like to think that I am an intellectual. I enjoy knowing things and writing as if I know them better than I actually do. I take pleasure in spending long hours between the tall bookcases of the library or in front of a computer screen doing endless research just to answer a simple query which has risen to my conscious mind. But when it comes time to put all this knowledge in a usable form, when the rubber has to meet the road, panicked thoughts of bailing out cross my mind (which really is odd, as I lean towards pragmatism).

However, I like showing off my bluff, puffing myself up as a blowfish while others are around, only to deflate rather rapidly when someone asks a question which pokes beyond my skill. And perhaps it also has to do with the fact that I am a perfectionist and don't like for anyone to see weakness in me. But I am also a woman, and while I am proud of this fact, I also see it as a disadvantage, because women are often viewed (correctly or otherwise) as being weaker. If I can only convince other people that there is much more beneath the surface, then I become desirable as a friend, my insights are appreciated, and I gain a certain status.

What I would rather do and who I would rather become looks more like Dorothy L. Sayers. From her biography by Barbara Reynolds:
"Dorothy L. Sayers regarded the intellect as androgynous--neither male nor female, but human, and she took pleasure in using it, as she did in using her writing skills."

I suppose that means I would actually have to put forth the effort to use my intellect, rather than simply relish the fact that I might have what it takes to be an intellectual. But then I find myself caught up in a rat race, trying to keep up with all the latest thought trends, the books my friends are reading, and current events around the world. And just the thought of that makes me exhausted.

Is there such a thing as a lazy intellectual? Perhaps I could fit into that category...

what susan said

2005-06-14T17:58:00.000-07:00

i recently went home.

what a loaded sentence--can you ever return home? where is home, anyway?

this past week i realized that, while i had come to terms and become comfortable with the fact that i had finally moved on with my post-college life, i wasn't quite ready for my family and friends to do so.

thankfully, some things are still the same. i can still get into the movies in joplin for free, which means that thom remains in town. i still stayed out until 2 or 3 a.m., enjoying the company of close friends. my brother and i went to see the newest installment of star wars, as we have five times before. my sister and i, as we often have in the past, went out to eat, watched movies, and talked about how life has turned out differently than we may have expected.

but now my brother has girl friends he spends more time with than his family. my sister is going to get her master's in counseling, at which i know she will excel, but leaves me feeling left behind. my parents are often out traveling, just the two of them, meeting people i will probably never know, unlike when we were growing up and went everywhere together. my friends will soon be moving on with their lives, too, going places and doing things of which i am no longer a part.

so my melancholic temperament came out full force, demanding my complete attention, then leaving me at the bottom of a (figurative) bottle. i then rediscovered an old cd i had, by the poet, rich mullins.

from "what susan said", based on proverbs 27:5-10 & philemon 12
and we both feel lost
but I remember what Susan said
how love is found in the things we've given up
more than in the things that we have kept
and ain't it funny what people say
and ain't it funny what people write
and ain't it funny how it hits you so hard
in the middle of the night
and if your home is just another place where you're a stranger
and far away is just somewhere you've never been
i hope that you'll remember, i was your friend
i hope you'll have the strength to just remember
i'm still your friend

so, while i won't resort to another round of "friends are friends forever", i am grateful for the kindred spirits i have discovered at the intersection of our paths. erin, victor, jonathan, charro, ceri, erica, solomon, thom, pam, kelly--every place i've been is marked by a blessed friendship, someone who has helped me grow and see God in a new light. and although moving on is so extremely difficult for me, i thank God for the pleasantness of my friends, springing from their earnest counsel (prov 27:9).

and while i know life is meant to constantly evolve into something new rather than remain static, i also know that certain things, such as the way thom can get under my skin, will never change. and what a comfort that is.

creativeness

2005-06-02T12:20:00.000-07:00

"Man is most god-like and most himself when he is occupied in creation . . . Our worst trouble today is our feeble hold on creation."
~Dorothy L. Sayers

Sayers went on to say that "we are never so truly ourselves as when we are actively creating something." How often do we see people leading lives of quiet desperation, stuck in jobs, relationships and couch potato activities, none of which have a creative outlet? How often does a "good job" seem to be wonderful at first, but then as the monotony of pushing papers and dealing with cranky customers and coworkers sinks in, the silver lining falls off, and our job becomes hellish?

It is in creating things that we find our sanity, because this is how we were programmed. Couples find fulfillment in creating a family; engineers, in designing structures and machines; intellectuals, in pioneering new ways and patterns of thinking; artists, in shaping new expressions of their souls.

Oh, that my life never be empty of creative power in expression . . .

summer reading

2005-06-01T13:33:00.000-07:00

One of my friends recently asked me which books I have on my summer reading list. I then had an epiphany--a summer reading list!! (Thanks Mr. Anonymous)

Currently, I'm working on these:

Dorothy L. Sayers: Her Life and Soul by Barbara Reynolds; an excellent, well-rounded biography about one of the best women thinkers of the twentieth century
Sex, God & Marriage by Johann Christoph Arnold; a book put out by Plough Publishing House, which I got on sale from CBD. Some chapters are really good, others are so-so in my view, perhaps because most of it doesn't apply to me. But a good overall consideration of the subject.
The Next Christendom by Philip Jenkins; just finished the first chapter, but love the global and historical scope he presents of Christianity

As I seem to be addicted to buying whatever I find on sale at CBD, I'm making an effort to read the books I already have own. And then I will reward myself by buying a new book (or multiples thereof). Those marked with * are ones which already reside in my library.

Projected Summer Reading List:

Letters to a Diminished Church: Passionate Arguments for the Relevance of Christian Doctrine* by Dorothy L. Sayers
The remaining 7 Lord Peter Wimsey detective novels by Dorothy Sayers; recently finished Murder Must Advertise* in this series--it is one of the most clever books I have ever read. "Two thumbs up!" Heck, "Fifteen Thumbs up!" yeah, it really was that good.
Sexual Ethics* by Stanley Grenz
Anything I have left to read from Philip Yancey, which is not much . . . now, in true stalker mode, I'll have to track down all the essays he's ever written for Christianity Today
The Problem of Pain* by C. S. Lewis; hopefully with a book club we are working on starting here in California

I suppose I could list out every book I own which I haven't read yet, but at the risk of boring the reader, I will desist. But I do have a request: any suggestions? glaring omissions?

sunday, bloody sunday

2005-05-20T10:52:00.000-07:00

We are currently putting together a video to honor our children's ministry volunteers. In searching for the perfect music to have as the audio background, someone suggested "Like A Child" by Jars of Clay. But given that most of their volunteers come in on Sundays, i suggested that "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" by U2 might be more in tune with the theme.

No one seemed to listen to me, though...

boycotting lol

2005-05-13T12:40:00.000-07:00

I am raising a worldwide cry to buck against the pressure of using "lol" and such shortcuts to express emotions in instant messaging. Be creative! For example, use increments of "ha"; "ha" would indicate a snort or short giggle, whereas "hahahahahahahahahaha" might be a belly laugh.

One of my friends once said that if you think you're a leader, you should look behind and see who or what is behind you. Do I dare cast a look over my shoulder?

i think i'm looking at the Bible a little differently now...

2005-05-13T11:24:00.000-07:00

So, a new power verse:

I finished Ruth, and am now working my way through 1 Samuel. And then, bam! It hit me . . . another Word directly from God.

"How long are you going to stay drunk? Put away your wine."
1 Samuel 1:14

This one, I believe, especially speaks to Ozark students. How long are you going to act attentive in class, only to go party on the weekends? How long will you drag yourself out of bed, still hung over, just to kneel in chapel, as though truly worshiping (when we all know you simply can't keep your balance on your feet)? How long will you hypocritically hide your wine when with certain people, but pull it out when they are all gone?

And so (could I say it better myself?), "Put away your wine" (as well as your whine, but that will be left for another day, and another verse).

Peace.

this may come as a shock to some...

2005-05-12T15:02:00.000-07:00

Just something I would like to share out of my journal (I'm afraid I got a bit carried away there at the end):

May 8, 2005
I just finished watching a movie about FDR (featuring Kenneth Branagh), in which I discovered that I love this country I live in! I love what it stands for, that all humans have equal standing, a reflection that we are all the same in God’s sight. I love the natural beauty, found at the wide expanse of the ocean, the magnificent national parks, and the quietly rolling fields of Missouri in an early morning dew, with graceful deer gliding across. I love the diversity; although we naturally gravitate towards those who are similar to us, there is so much to learn from those who are dissimilar. I love the fact that there is so much opportunity available to those who work hard. I love the national pride in the waving of a flag, saying that I am glad to belong here.

I guess before I thought that in order to love this country, I had to buy into the bigoted “U.S. Supremacy” idea, that no other place could even come close to comparing. But I haven’t completely swung the other way, saying that the U.S. is perfect, the best this world has ever seen, or that I’ve given up my loyalties to Chile. The truth is, I still love Chile, as a grown child who sees the faults of a parent, realizing that no one is perfect, but chooses to still love them because of gratitude, and all those things that even so makes her smile.

And oh! If I can love the countries of my earthly citizenship so much, recognizing that they are not perfect, yet proudly waving their flags within my heart, shall I not more be able to love the kingdom of my true citizenship? And how my heart yearns within me for a perfect country, without imperfections which must be explained to non-citizens!

Although a citizen, I have felt like an outsider my entire life! Yet one day, people will be able to identify me by my characteristics, knowing exactly where my citizenship lies. And then I will finally have come home!

Oh, to reach with mortal fingers and grasp immortality!
Oh, to dream within a finite mind of the riches of infinity…

and today's power verse is...

2005-05-12T09:29:00.000-07:00

So the other day I was reading through the book of Ruth, and it struck me that I had found a verse which KOBC had not yet used for their daily power verse.

"May the LORD grant that each of you will find rest in the home of another husband."
Ruth 1:9

With this verse, they will show that they are compassionate towards their female listeners who are either widowed, divorced, or adulterers--that often overlooked corner of society.

(Oh, for the resurrection of the Doggy Door . . .)

2005-01-04T16:26:00.000-08:00