Parenting Trends and the Church

Read New Republic's article How Older Parenthood Will Upend American Society and Seeking Alpha's Chinese and American Demographics Contrasted and weep.  Or, if you are in my shoes: feel guilt and shame from the Parenthood one and a depressing vindication with the other.

Macro view: I know such news isn't new.  The Romans dealt with this issue as did almost every culture where women have choice regarding their futures-- the mother's death has been a common side effect of birth throughout history.  We've largely distanced ourselves from that reality, but we haven't the costs of parenting-- women still bear the brunt of that.

Micro view: I also come from a family who has only one aunt who started having children in her 20's.  My mom had her first child at age 31 and her last one at 41.  My grandmother had her last child at age 41.  Neither my brother or uncle has any birth defects. It never occurred to me that I would have children in my 20's, but it also never occurred to me that I'd be single at age 33.  It's as one older lady told me at church, "But, you're not that ugly." And, statistically speaking, the odds of either happening are minimal to nonexistent.  I am a brave new world with little guidance.  The evangelical church is geared towards men and families.  Maybe that's the problem with the modern American church?  We're more interested in demographics than God, worship and obedience.  Churches have foci on "seekers" or "family-friendly" or whatever.  Maybe we should be a little more focused on God-- and the seekers and families will come?

It seems to me that the demographic shifts are being studied in terms of education and income.  But, I wonder what deeper issues related to identity and spiritual belief are at stake?  Where is the church in this seismic shift?  I'd like to see a study linking church attendance and debt to income levels into the marriage and children mix.  Where does the shift in importance of entertainment, stuff and education fit into the mix?  I think the shift from a saving culture to a credit culture is a shift in conceptualization of the future and personal responsibility: an anthropological and theological shift.  We're talking about trends in sexuality, households, and lifestyle-- this is profound.

I'm finding the only worthwhile way to combat the worry (macro and micro) has been digging into a study of Exodus.  How's that for an apparent non sequitur? But, then again, maybe not.  Yahweh responds to all of Moses's legitimate worries in Chapter 3: "I am."  This answer denotes God's authority and presence.  The verb is of "active being."  God is also equating being God of the fathers (Abraham, Jacob and Isaac) with being the God who is present and active (and in charge of) the Israelites in Egypt.  God is as present now as He was then.  As problematic as this seems, perhaps slavery and attempted genocide weighed just as heavily on the Israelites... or more so.  Maybe like Moses, I should change my question from "who am I" to asking God "who are you?"

"The beautiful is as useful as the useful."

 I'm trudging through the 1000+ pages of Les Mis and am finding it surprisingly good.  The writing is perceptive.  Okay, it's more romantic than realistic, but that's what art does, right?  We need to think about how things could be. It tests our boundaries and questions our ready assumptions.  Literature is a quiet but persistent alarm clock that wakes us up to the possibilities that lie just below the surface of our everyday experience.

I don't just say this on a theoretical level.  Reading Alain de Botton's How Proust Can Change Your Life opened up the possibility of applying good books to my life.  Because a good book can change your life given the opportunity.  I've experienced the barbaric yawp and energy of reading a new book that introduces me to a brand new perspective.  It's amazing!

A good piece of literature, especially one of the long, winding novels of Tolstoy or Hugo or George Elliot, etc., will also wheedle out of you some of the internal struggles I'm working out.  For instance, I'm working out my conflicting ideas and emotions about pretty things.

Even though I agree with my uncle's cheeky observation: "the bishop seems to be the second best person ever to walk the earth." I've had this quotation from Les Mis about the bishop in my mind's slow cooker for the past couple of weeks:

.... The paths enclosed four square plots bordered with box. Mme Magloire grew vegetables in three of these, and the bishop had planted flowers in the fourth.  There were a few fruit trees. Mme Magloir once said teasingly to him: 'Monseigneur, you believe in making use of everything, but this fourth plot is wasted. Salads are more useful than flowers.' 'You are wrong,' replied the bishop. 'The beautiful is as useful as the useful.' Then, after a pause, he added: 'More so, perhaps.' (p. 38)

To overvalue utility and practicality can be dangerous.  That was one of my biggest concerns with public school.  There was so much emphasis on these nebulous yet highly quantified curriculum.  Can a teacher teach character outside of plot?

More recently, I've felt the danger of utilitarianism as I sit in my cubicle for ten-hour stretches.  Dear God, it's soul crushing!  The cream walls, the gray carpet, the felted cubicle, the plastic desk leeches my personality out of me.  I can feel myself turning into a zombie or a ghost.  I need to do more research to decide which one-- or, maybe, it just depends on the day.

So, I've started a campaign of pretty and cheer!  It started with the gnome.  Then, dark chocolate.  Now, we're into $3.99 Trader Joe's bouquets.  Also, a side campaign of a spritz of Chanel's Chance Eau Fraiche to each wrist to add some smell pretty.  And wearing cute clothes and shoes is beating the utilitarian blah's.

My coworkers were poking fun of me... especially the 23 year-old boys. But, they're starting to buy into the cheer and pretty campaign.  One day the boy who sits next to me told me, "I'm going to wear my new shirt tomorrow."  "What color is it?" I asked.  He answered, "You'll have to wait and see."  The shirt was a little Miami Vice for my taste, but it's a start. Before you know it, he's going to have something quirky in his cube too.

The core of my pretty and cheer campaign is my walk during my lunch break.  There's something magical about going outside, watching people and animals, and just enjoying the blue or gray sky, the sound of the water, the excitement of bird sightings.  At the heart of the campaign is worship: awareness of a good God and humbleness and gratefulness.  To quote VH again on the bishop:

He pondered on the greatness and living presence of God, on the mystery of eternity in the future and, even more strange, eternity in the past, on all the infinity manifest to his eyes and to his senses; and without seeking to comprehend the incomprehensible he contemplated these things. He did not scrutinize God but let his eyes be dazzled. He pondered on the sublime conjunction of atoms that gives matter its substance; that reveals forces in discovering them, creates the separate within the whole, proportion within immensity, countless numbers within infinity; and through light gives birth to beauty. This conjunction, this ceaseless joining and disjoining, is life and death. (p.67)

contact, contact, contact, contact, contact

Did you ever say a word over and over again until you couldn't say it anymore and it seemed completely weird?  Just a normal word--nothing fancy; say, contact or, even, weird.

Or, have you ever spelled a word correctly, and it doesn't look right?  So, you spell it about three or four different ways to see if any of those look correct.   Say, occasion then ocassion then occassion. And, you end up going with your original spelling even though it still doesn't look quite right. Later, you look the word up in a dictionary, and you were right the entire time.

My sister and I would repeat words into oblivion, then dissolve into giggles.  We'd usually be sitting in one of our back bedrooms on pale green carpet next to our beds somewhere in the little kid activity schedule of eating, sleeping, playing, and growing up to be overly analytical.

Sometimes I catch myself doing that same exercise with my life.  Every once and a while, I'll wake up, start up my routine, and it doesn't seem right.  So, I tweak the schedule.  I'll have a cookie for breakfast instead of oatmeal.  Journal more to figure out what's going on. Or... go into full-on existential crisis mode.  Why am I here?  Does my life serve any real purpose?  Do I do anything worthy of my carbon footprint?  (I actually said that to someone yesterday. Oops.)  And, it turns into this dark, soupy mind loop but minus the giggling.

But, full-on existential crisis mode takes a lot of emotional and psychological energy, which leads to an early bedtime or, if I'm lucky, a nap.  Then, the universal elixir, sleep, set things right.  Oatmeal and routine are okay once again.

feelin' alive

When I was in Japan, I realized what a gift running was.  It made me happy like few things could.  I realized it was kind of a nice thing to be made happy by that.  I realized that this past year I've strayed away from things that have been central to my identity either because they're not possible (an exciting social life) or because I feel I don't deserve them (new clothes).

Loneliness is one of the aspects of unemployment that people leave out.  And, there's a sense of isolation that goes along with it, esp. since I'm in my thirties and single to boot.  Everybody my age is married with kids... or ridiculously fat where I live.

So, I've decided to make a conscious effort to be me.  Does that make sense?

I like people.

1. Although I have no kindred spirits in these parts, I do have some kind, dear friends.  So, I'm contacting them.  I'm going to see Merchant of Venice with one tomorrow night.  I'm meeting another for drinks another night.

2. I have my sweet, old ladies who think I'm incredibly young!  What's not to love?  And, just smiling and saying hi to the other people is uplifting.  It makes me feel useful.  The absence of care for the elderly is one of my major beefs with the church (not just mine but in general).  So, I get to be the change I want to see.

I like to think.

1. I'm really enjoying War and Peace.  There's so much to it.  It's well-written with keen insights on the human condition.  Oddly, literature eliminates loneliness.  I feel recognized.

2. Listening to deeply insightful lectures that provide new ways of framing my life. John's Gospel: Exercises in Spiritual Theology for a PostModern World by James Houston. Houston is wise; his lectures are full of his cleverness and gentleness.  His ideas are extremely energizing, satisfying and comforting.  

I like to run.

I'm training for a marathon... but my hip is hurting so I'm taking a few days off.

These are little parts of my uniqueness that add up to me.  Not one of them is glamorous, but that's okay.

Ryan: what am I missing?

First off, I'm no political scientist.  In fact, I'm becoming more and more disaffected as I age... or mature.  But, Romney's choice of Paul Ryan as his running mate is interesting.  Romney has run a generic campaign up until now.  Picking Ryan was a fiscal statement.  Obama's camp's excitement about the choice seems to say it all.

To me, it seems a repeat of the 2008 McCain campaign.  Sarah Palin is a woman, but she in no way encouraged moderate voters to move right.  Ryan seems to be a more savvy and intelligent politician, but he seems that he'll have the same effect on moderates: either none or negative.  It seems that Romney is putting all his eggs in the Wisconsin-recall basket.  He hopes that people will be for strong leadership willing to make tough decisions.  Don't get me wrong, I really like the Republican governor in Wisconsin and that style of leadership. I hate the tyranny of special interest groups. But, we shall see.

This is what I don't understand about politics: why is there a trend towards the fringe instead of a move to moderation?  Plenty of rhetoric exists to talk about the two parties working together, but it seems the reality is always to polarize.

Deluge, Downpour, Etc.

It took 1.5 hours to drive to Columbia over 2.5 hours to get back.  The difference: rain.  We're not talking a gentle, lovely, soaking rain.  We're talking I risked pulling off a six lane interstate rain because I couldn't see 10 feet in front of me.  But, I got home safely.  Clearly. It hadn't even rained at my house.  Summertime thunderstorms, oh,  how I love you.

The meeting was fruitful and provided some hope.  If I understood correctly, their process is far more logical than my state's.  I have some work ahead of me the next couple of days.  The academic standards are far lower to teach middle school than high school.  Needless to say, I'm good to go with the punks.  I just need to swing by Chapel Hill and get some course equivalencies since I was a Classics major (not straight up English or History).  My Classics and Comparative Lit classes should make up the deficit in English.  But, I've never taken a European History Class.  That's kind of bad and explains a lot.

Also, two supernatural things?  I was looking for Zaxby's (a chicken fast food joint) and turned around in the parking lot of the building that my meeting was in three hours later.  That seemed like a good sign.  But, when I got in my car after the shindig, U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" was playing.  Background info: I've been praying that God reveal himself in all this madness.  My take away: He's got a sense of humor.

I really enjoyed lunch with my brother at Chipotle.  A balance of levity and gravity exist in our conversations.  I'm always amazed what a fantastic guy he is.  He's witty and caring.  I think he got my pragmatic gene. Dude, I'm totally a doting, big sister.

I got home at 9pm.  Did I run? Yes.  But 3 miles instead of the prescribed 6.  I'll make it up tomorrow.

A Hike

the view

Thanks to Amanda's comment, I felt inspired to have fun.  I was at a loss to do something on my budget, and then it came to me. I went on one of my favorite hikes: Crowder's Mountain.  It's about six miles, nearby, and involves a mountain.  It usually takes about 2 hours to do it, but today was hot... even in the shade.  And, it was crowded because it was the weekend. So, those are my excuses to why it took over three hours.  I enjoyed myself-- taking breaks at scenic stops that I usually rush past, drinking water.  I was reminded why we sweat: the breeze felt so nice!

Rock Top Trail

Then, I came home and had a big, fat nap after a big, fat lunch!  I read some about ancient Rome.  I chatted with one of my old roommates and found out that it's National Dance Day.  (Happy National Dance Day to you!)  I ate watermelon for dinner!  I got an email from a college friend!  I ate three desserts!  Boom.

It's a climb!

Now, I've officially gotten sucked into the Olympics.  Gymnastics, swimming, beach volleyball.  I almost cried with the story about John Orozco, the gymnast from the Bronx.  I'm even enjoying Ryan Lochte's cockiness; it's cute since it's earned.

But, what's so compelling is the beauty and happiness of a win... no matter what nation.  I'm no fan of China-- I was not impressed with them bullying Taiwan, and the Olympic Committee cowling to the Chinese.  But, I caught myself cheering for some Chinese athletes.  It's like a friend said, "You can't be mean to a child because of something his parents did."  The same goes with the athletes.

practice makes perfect

I decided to do my homework and find some interview questions.  I found some really good questions out there on the internets.  Ones that regard my philosophy of education, how I evaluate mastery, what the necessary elements are in designing a lesson.

It made me remember all the things I love about teaching and "middle level" students.  Middle school is more hands-on teaching, which is so much more fun and interesting than discussing facts.  Maybe we'll build a plan of a city, or design an outfit that a person would wear in the middle ages.  We'll get to connect current events with the motifs that we're studying.  After all, the human condition is universal.  Of course I lecture, but I get to use Socratic method and secondary methods (creating a group project that the students can extract the information and ideas from together for themselves).  There's such a high from hearing your students having an interesting conversation about the material, esp. relating it to themselves.

I caught myself looking at apartments and condos and getting nervous.  So, I put my nervous energy into thinking about the job.  It's also helping me develop questions I have about the position and a litmus for deciding if it's a good fit.  Mostly, the exercise got me excited and positive.  I really enjoy talking and thinking about how pedagogy of history needs to adapt to the digital environment.

Practical Advice

You have no idea how badly I'd like to be a unicorn right now... really, all the time.

weird that it isn't wierd

"I" before "e" except after "c".

"Weird": where form and function meet.

Can you tell that I just noticed that about the word?  I probably was all over the factoid when I was in third grade, then, gratefully, I moved on to other things.  But, all things, including style and ideas, are cyclical.

Yesterday was one weird day.

The weather was a moist, monochrome grey that crescendoed into this glorious, horrific thunderstorm that lasted an hour.  The thunder could have inspired Beethoven when deaf.  I just lay on the sofa and pulled down the blinds and enjoyed.

Then I drove to the big city, and it hadn't even rained.  That's the kind of detail that tests your sanity.  I was talking about the weather, because I'm polite and weird like that. Nobody knew about the thunderstorm; I might as well been talking about "the voices".

Before the thunderstorm, I visited some ladies at a nursing home.  It was not what I was expecting.  I was hoping that I'd be a ray of sunshine for these little ladies.  I didn't rely on my looks and charm alone: I brought them candy.  It ended up that I crashed two parties; they already had visitors.  I stayed over an hour with the first lady and her visitor.  They'd been missionaries in Haiti together.  They were fascinating women... and beautiful in the true, real sense.

My interaction with these women created or uncovered some form of discomfort.  It wasn't that I felt judged; they were gentle, kind, and keen women.  Maybe, it was because they were so solid, completely lacking in pretense and guile.  It made me think of the grass in Lewis' The Great Divorce.  This grass cut the visitors' feet who were ghost-like.  It's the weight of holiness.  Being in their presence reminded me of being around my favorite prof in Vancouver.  There's a qualitative difference in spending time with these people.  They're tuned into eternity.  I felt completely seen and heard in their presence.  The "completely" part is the terrifying part.  I'm sure they could sense my anxiety and shame, which is my lack of trust in Jesus.

After the thunderstorm, I had more conversations about identity.  I called one of my friends and midway through the conversation, she said, "I've been crying."  Come to find out, she'd gotten a spray-on tan that was much darker than she'd expected, which caused this identity crisis.  She felt this was a manifestation of trying to be somebody other than God created her to be.  And, I had another conversation about addiction in Christians.

It was a weird, heavy, wonderful day that I'll be carrying around for a while.  I feel like yesterday, Friday the 13th, was a lesson that I'm not quite ready for.  But, maybe I'll understand it somewhere down the road.  It was the kind of day that could turn you into a Calvinist.  It was the kind of day that reminds me of the meaning and shape of life. It was the kind of day that God was really there.

Weird: maybe my life is where form and function meet in my own journey.  Maybe similar to the English language, the exceptions prove the rule.  Expectations, like phonics, have a 70% success rate; the other 30% is where the magic, mystery and miracles exist.

grand slam!

1. I donated six boxes of books to my church.  Of course they were in liquor boxes I got at the ABC store.  Of course my donation coincided with the  second day of Vacation Bible School with a sea of munchkins.  Only one of the boxes had a picture: the Absolut.  The church librarian told me that if the church didn't want them (or if they'd better suit the need), she'd put them in the box that we collect books for a theological school in Africa.  One of our members periodically goes and teaches, and he takes the books with him.  It's hard to imagine a Seminary with few books.  I've decided I should probably go through my books again and see if there are more I should donate.  I can be incredibly greedy with my books. And it's less claustrophobic in the room.

2. I made some delicious blackberry yoghurt cake after getting a half gallon of blackberries at the farmers' market.  Don't worry: it only uses a small bowl.  This is really simple and quick... provided you have the 6 ingredients or so.  I highly recommend it.  (Yes, I cheated on my madness/diet.)

3. I went with my cousin who's going into 10th grade to the free night at the Mint Uptown Art Gallery. We had a lot of fun.  It's nice to go with a kindred spirit-- she was enthralled by all the dogs in portraits as I was... or at least she pretended to be.  And, she was entertained by the private party too.  There was a human contortionist in this inordinately large clear ball.  It was bizarre and disturbing, and I couldn't stop staring.  Not to mention, there was a girl in glammed-out fire-engine-red ball gown with a gigantic bow over her butt.  It was very surreal.  The guests (except for a few guys) seemed far more interested in chatting with one another.  Then, after our high-faluting gallery visit, we ate white trash burgers and crab puppies at Pinkie's Westside Grill.  It was pretty awesome. (Yes, I cheated again.)

4. I applied to my overseas positions.  I'm a little nervous and incredibly excited about the opportunity. My main hesitation is the feeling that I'm refusing a chance at getting married and having children.  But, I figure that it's not like I'm meeting any guys here.  And, as long as I'm miserable and depressed, I'm not going to really attract someone worth forever.  M helped with the idea of meeting one guy.  That's all it takes.  I figure there may be the "one guy" in a foreign place.  But, overall I'm excited because it'd put me on track financially and career-wise.  I could write while there.

break-up sadness

I just called off a friendship, and, consequently,  I feel sad.  It needed to be done.  She wanted to meet for coffee, but I'd rather do hot yoga, pass out, and pay for the Emergency Room trip in change to an old, fat, over-bearing accountant scowling at me the entire time.  Well, that may be overstating my lack of desire by a small margin.  We don't really have anything in common.  I don't really care about potty training and arguments over strawberries, and she doesn't care about my fantastic impersonations of customers and immature but overwhelming existential angst.

I had a conversation at reunion with a good friend who happens to be a psychologist.  We were discussing my lackluster year, and she said, "I thought you had a lot church friends or something."

I responded, "I did too."

"Where were they?" she countered.

"Hell if I know," I answered.

The friend I broke up with was one of the above named AWOL people.  I feel kind of bad talking like that with my Jewish friend.  But, I didn't know where my friends were nor where God was in the maelstrom.  And, furthermore, I know very few Christians who haven't been deeply wounded by the church and her members.  Words are so much easier than actions.  Believe me, I know.  I'm definitely not the go-to evangelist.  Faith doesn't make life easier merely richer and more meaningful.

I've been thinking about friends and friendship often recently.  The many people who've disappointed me have really high-lighted the amazing friends that I do have. The shoddy, generic friendships offer foil for the real deal. Maybe I'll cobble together a coherent couple of paragraphs on the subject.

relief!

Thursday I finished and faxed my appeal. I faxed it again on Friday just for good measure. My brother took the copy over to the business. My cousin told me to wrap my head around the fact that my winning was a total crap shoot. But, I think the odds are slightly in my favor because of economy and political party in power. I hope I'm right. I really, really hope. It ultimately comes down to who is the referee and God.

I taught my long awaited Advent seminar this morning to six people two of whom I'm related. I had a technology scare this morning: I connected my computer to the projector, and the screen didn't project. Then, about fifteen minutes later it did. Plus an IT guy came. God had it covered. But, it was an ideal start because we could fit around a table and talk, which is what I envisioned. People talked... a little too much. I went in concerned about getting people engaged. The people who came were ready to talk. The problem was I got through about half of my material. We missed some really good stuff. My uncle and brother gave me good feedback; they're probably the most honest. My brother told me that I brought my A game, but I need to work on speaking more fluidly. He said I made little noises (hmm, okay) that detracted from the presentation. He's probably right because I hadn't fully thought out what I was going to say. I made some bullet points. Plus, I was monitoring other people to see how they were doing. Teaching has definitely helped me with facilitating a group. I just called on people to read or respond. A lady pointed out the irony of the words of "o come, o come Emmanuel": we're saying "come" to God-with-us. I wanted a unhurried, meditative pace, and I got it. I might need to speed it up next time. It was a positive experience.

I'm feeling paranoid about church now because this lady I barely know told me while smiling and nodding her head, "Now, I know how you really are." I dodged her question with a vague answer the previous week; it was the kind of thing my grandmother would say. I said something like: "I'll think about it" instead of a flat no. I'm trying to adjust to being in the South. So, I wonder if she gossiped with other ladies.

And, I told my roommate (who goes to the church) that I'd keep her dog for the month of December if she paid me $10/day-- the going rate is at least $25. I thought she'd be pleased. She told me,"You're being outrageous! I'll take the dog to Florida." Then told me how ungrateful I was; um, I pay rent. Rent must not count as gratitude. So I am glad I asked in order to stand up for myself, but I think it definitely put a rift in our relationship because she demonstrated an attitude that's come out before of my owing her something. I promised to keep her dog in September for her trip to Switzerland and in January for her trip to Honduras; I didn't promise to dog sit for month-long periods for free whenever she decides. I miss the dog more... at least so far. I promised myself a new place by May 1st; it may be sooner because there's a weird, unhealthy dynamic. (Seriously?!? This is pathetic, but it took up a lot of head and heart space this week.)

Good news: a weekly tutoring gig is in the works, and it hopefully starts tomorrow. And, a lady contacted me about nannying. I need to find out more, but there's potential. It looks like I may be able to teach in Anchorage just on my Praxis scores; I need to call. I'm back in touch with an old friend in town, which has been really nice. I exercised every day except Thursday; I think joining the gym is going to improve morale. Huzzah!

Irony Alert

100% Whole Wheat Potato Bread


Is it me?

Oddly enough, it tastes good.

really good spam

I've become sensitive and more interested in spam ever since my email account got hacked and I sent out hundreds links to penis enlargement pills. Today I got an email with the subject line, My Preposition, in my spam box. So, I had to open it. It simply read, "Read important business message from Mr. Christopher Hayward Davis below." I was so tempted to open it and find out what preposition belonged to Mr. Christopher Hayward Davis. Was it "of" or "to" or "by" or "with"? But I resisted the temptation to hit the link.

24/7

Do you know the Monty Python scene where the guy says:“There is no cannibalism in the British navy, absolutely none, and when I say none, I mean there is a certain amount”? This quotation came to mind this afternoon when a friend and I went to the 24/7 Prayer Room and it was locked. Not only was it locked, it had hours posted "Monday-Friday 10-9pm" to add to the irony. I told my friend, "Never assume. You've always got to read the fine print." She reminded me that things always work out, and she was right.

We ended up hanging out and praying in the Free Store in Area 15. The huge room had a ramp that had interesting, creative characters in fedoras and other "I'm cool" accoutrements walking up and down it one at a time. Earth-toned painted stripes ran down the walls. We nested in comfy chairs in the second-hand store. We were in the heart of funky. It felt adventurous and practical all wrapped up in the same box. As we conversed, we eventually realized that artsy types don't boot you out for squatting. It wasn't the hours of transforming prayer I was hoping for; then again, there were no lit candles in the vicinity.

My friend prayed Psalm 51 out in the car (clearly she knows me). Then she gave me James 4:13-17 in conversation. Well actually, James 4:17: "Therefore, to one who knows the right thing to do and does not do it, to him it is sin." And, she coupled it with Hebrews 12:14: "Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy..."

I needed these verses. The James verse is basically talking about living in the present and living in obediently now. I'm so caught up in finding a job that will allow me to use (or maybe discover) my talents. Nope. It's need to be right now in the most unglamorous of settings, the 7th grade classroom in a rural setting. God's not waiting for perfect circumstances.

The second verse is pretty strong with "all men." Apparently, God wants me to live peaceably with the incompetent people with whom I work, the annoying drivers that cut me off, and students who go, "blah, blah, blah" while I talk. I get the feeling God wants me to take myself way less seriously and get one fantastic sense of humor. That said, I still don't think the author of Hebrews uses "all" in the tongue-in-cheek manner of Monty Python's "none".

results unimpressive

I woke up in the middle of the night to find that it was three minutes before my alarm was to sound. I felt both relief and anguish. The first day back was rougher than I had anticipated due to my students being awake and happy to see one another.

My "seek the good" at work was sorely tested by both printers being out of toner (they were out of toner before we left for Christmas) and a student saying about Greek mythology, "This is stupid. When am I ever going to USE Greek mythology!" What a bizarre and depressing idea: using a story. It's such a consumer mentality. I guess I consider ideas and stories on the same plane as friends-- there's an intrinsic value and usefulness even if you don't get to use them per se.

It's so much easier to be holy when reading theology than when teaching middle school. Every once in a while I get a glimpse of the weight and awesomeness of my students' souls, but a lot of the time they feel like punks. I wanted to ask three kids in my last class, "Why did you bother showing up to school today? Seriously, why did you bother?" I refrained.

My mom reminds me that I have no idea what they went through over break, which is true. Some of these kids have rough lives. It's just that I wish they wouldn't fight me on everything. One kid yelled at me at least five times-- I didn't send him out because that's precisely what he wanted. Most of the other students are to the point with him they just roll their eyes. I'm perfecting what my mom refers to as the "flat affect". I don't raise my voice; I just repeat myself like a broken record until I get what he wants. I was not very loving today; but, at least I didn't yell.

My students' journal entry was a minimum of five goals for 2011. I told them the more specific the better. Some of them took it seriously.

I also found out that I'm eligible for some loan forgiveness by teaching at my school; however, I have to teach for five years. I don't think the tax free 5k is worth that price. Teaching students that don't want to be in school drains a teacher. Teaching in a school system that doesn't value learning and thought puts a strain on a teacher as well. This job would wear Richard Simmons down.

My highlight of the day came at the expense of breaking one of my goals: I went out to eat with my mom and brother. But, it was worth it. We talked about Medusa and cuties. There's just something to be said for shared history.

A Day of Sloth

My brother makes fun of me for being completely predictable and for good reason. I read Christ Plays in 10,000 Places, wrote, and ran today. I played on FaceBook-- there's a lot of stuff I couldn't do from my BlackBerry (that's my excuse). I did the map of all the cities I've been to, which was fun. It was a good review of 2010-- well, at least the summer. I had so much fun on the Galapagos, especially Isabella.

This holiday season has made me realize that I need to seek out my friends more. Why do I let it be so long between calls for people I adore? I've had great conversations over food and the phone with people that make me happy. There's a warm afterglow to a conversation with a friend that makes even washing dishes more pleasant. And, no doubt topics of the conversations will plop out into my writing and other conversations. So, I invited a friend to dinner who accepted then canceled; therefore, I was forced to eat a lot of cookies and drink milk for dinner! I was going to try to make grilled cheese sandwiches with brie but settled for chocolate chip cookies.

Scurrying at the back of my mind are my goals for 2011. Some are obvious: find a job for September, run a race a month (do I train for a marathon or ultra?), read, blog. Of course even the obvious goals need specifications. Then, there's the question how do you make spiritual goals? I can prioritize quiet time, reading Scripture, etc. It's like planning to fall in love but a surer bet. Maybe even cooking and not watching TV count towards spiritual awakening. Perhaps, word choice counts too. I should be more cognizant of the weightiness of words. And Eugene Peterson writes about hurry and procrastination being bad too-- they distort the sacredness of time. Perhaps, I should redirect my gaze from my navel to God. I need to go on a God-hunt every day figure out where he met me in my day-- isn't that what Marva Dawn refers to it as?

I actually tried doing some work, but my computer wouldn't open the CD. It must be because I haven't gotten Microsoft Office yet. So, I settled on cleaning out my inbox for 30 minutes... and I put a 10% dent into it. Yikes.

And, I've decided I'm going to write a book this year-- 300 pages 12 font double-spaced. How's that for specificity? I have ideas for 17 chapters. I've already outlined two. Boo yah.

Perhaps I should make it a goal that my posts have a point?

my new laundromat

So, I'm using all natural light, sitting in a comfy chair in a spacious kitchen, listening to classical music all while my laundry is washing and drying. I'm playing with my new computer of course. Plus, I got taken out to eat. I'm at my aunt's house! And all I bring to the table is: company.

My aunt has moved her office to her house, and she misses people. She says it's harder to get work done. I told her found that to be true in grad school. People are a built in security system when it comes to procrastination. When my roommate is home, I may not be working on the most pressing task, but I'm forced into doing something. But my roommate is dog sitting this week, which has been very relaxing. I've done a lot of reading and journaling. The type of work that's filed under "ruminate"-- the kind of work that looks like slacking to the naked eye. But, I need this rumination to prepare for the new year. But, the quotidian tasks don't mysteriously disappear.

So, I'm getting my busy-bee work done at my aunt's. I'm doing laundry, making my TDLs, cleaning out my inboxes, and blogging about the work I'm supposed to be doing.

lessons

The weather is cooperating with my spring break. It's absolutely gorgeous, and I'm sunburned. I'm in Richmond, VA, staying with my sister. I've been doing a lot of running and walking in the historic parts. This morning I wandered around Hollywood Cemetary where three presidents and Jefferson Davis are burried. It's enjoyable to be outside just sitting or standing.

I got a Blackberry on Saturday because my brother broke his phone. There was a buy one get one free deal. Yep. I walked into that one. I can see why they're referred to as crackberries. It's hypnotic all the updates you get. And, I like word mole... a lot. My highest score thus far is 57 with "squirrel". And, I'm trying to find a free, easy to use budget application to use on my phone.

I am supposed to hear from the National Writing Project by the end of this week. I'm nervous and excited. I'm reminding myself that it'll be expensive and a pain in the butt-- so it's not all bad if I don't get accepted. But, it will be awesome.

I learned again how poor I am during a conversation with the CPA who does my taxes. Yowsers, I was going to buy a new laptop, a sewing machine, put an extra thousand towards my student loan and the rest in savings. I'm hilarious with a great imagination. I'll get a lesser version of the laptop I want if I getting into the summer institute and I'm looking for a used sewing machine.

So, I learned the difference between a "deduction" and a "credit" are from said CPA-- that's part of the problem. I thought the interest on student loans functioned as a credit-- nope, it's a deduction.

I really need another job. My position is changing a lot with the smaller budget. It'll take a lot of time but without any worthy gains. I don't want to do it.

I'm trying to introspect, but it's hard to unwind enough to get to the good stuff.

Waiting is a difficult task. It requires a lot of faith and hope in God's goodness and power... and observational skills. I'm concerned He's taking me in a different direction than I'm interested in going. This poverty thinking stinks. But, maintaining an eternal perspective in near impossible-- that's where the Bible and prayer come into play, I presume.

My sister has a lot of fantastic cook books. She's been calling me "the monk" as I copy her recipes ino my recipe book.