Dark and Stormy

It was a dark and stormy night...  Actually, it is a dark and stormy night.  Really. No Edgar Allen Poe or ghost story here.  "Dark and stormy" have been on my mind on a metaphorical level as well.

It all started with teaching Chapter 8 in Luci Shaw's book on journaling titled: "Dealing with Your Difficulties."  It was a hard chapter to read but helpful.  Several of the class members said it was the most useful part of the book.  She writes about being honest with yourself about your emotions-- to pray and write about them before you do something you'll regret.  We discussed how hard life is.  I used to think it was personal, but I'm getting the sense that everybody gets their share of heartache.  It comes in so many forms.  But, it's so hard to walk through it instead of avoiding it.  There's a necessary degree of survival mode to dark times because some days getting to evening can feel like a miracle.

However, millenia of Judeo-Christian tradition tell us that there's more to darkness and suffering than survival.  Say, the Book of Job and Lamentations to go for the obvious.  The passion in all four gospels.  One third of the Psalms are lament.  A third.  And, according to multiple theologians the Psalms are the anatomy of the soul.  Our souls are one-third lament?  Here's the poem I put at the end of the hand out for the class:

“To Know the Dark” by Wendell Berry

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.

To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,

And find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,

And is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.

Then after teaching the class, I had a couple of potent conversations with several friends over a course of a few days.  My friends our dealing with some heavy stuff-- some painful difficulties.  I woke up at 4:20 on Saturday morning with Isaiah 50:10-11 on my mind (who knows what I was dreaming?):

Who among you fears the Lord
    and obeys the voice of his servant?
Let him who walks in darkness
    and has no light
trust in the name of the Lord
    and rely on his God.
¹¹ Behold, all you who kindle a fire,
    who equip yourselves with burning torches!
Walk by the light of your fire,
    and by the torches that you have kindled!
This you have from my hand:
    you shall lie down in torment.

There's a large part of me that wishes that there was something more than "trust in the name of the Lord and rely on his God" that God offers "him who walks in darkness and has no light." But, that's the gospel: our only hope is God.  There is no "more than." The Bible is no self-help manual.  

Back to the Psalms. Although a third of the Psalter is lament, all but one Psalm ends in praise.  Psalm 88 ends with "Darkness is my only friend."  But, every other one, even the most dire ones like the one where babies heads are getting bashed on rocks, end in praise and hope.  This literary structure is instructive: it really shifts momentum from the situation to God without dismissing the problem.  David got into plenty of pickles-- some really impossible ones.  But, he ended up finding comfort in the goodness and power of his God... who is our God. Darkness can be our friend if it brings us closer to God by ridding of our illusions of power and control.  Or as Flannery O'Connor who died of lupus at age 39 said, "We are all rather blessed in our deprivations if we let ourselves be, I suppose." 

Christmas 2012 musings

Yowsers: AL's Xmas tree! 

It was a nice holiday.  I was sick for the first half but recovered in time to partake in the edibles!  It was a good reminder of how good life is: family, friends, food, time to relax and laugh.  I really enjoyed being with my family.  We did practically nothing.  We ate French Onion Soup, my brother and I watched Looney Tunes.  My mom said, "This is a great reminder of the role of family... even with their foibles... they are your family."  My aunt went all out with her party, and it was lovely.  The devil is in the details.

My Silly Brother

We did manage to go to the Christmas Eve service-- it was the contemporary music service, but the sermon was fantastic.  The pastor compared the article in Us Weekly about the preparations for Prince William and Kate's baby and Jesus's birth.  I was really struck by his comment about the prophesies about Bethlehem, and how they did nothing to spruce it up for the Messiah.  The parallels in my life run rampant.

The other thing that really struck me this time is the star.  It's beautiful that a) nature was drawn to Jesus and b) Jesus met the Magi in their language/vocation/passion.

Yes, please

The other difference this year was having to work Christmas Eve.  It wasn't bad, but it was a good reminder of how tough some people's lives are.  All I could think about were the poor mamas who had to work a shift at Wal-Mart or a grocery store and then come home to be Santa.  I also realized what a service working is.  We drove by a pharmacy open on Christmas-- can you imagine needing medicine and not being able to get it?

Also, Christmas cards and texts from friends were really sweet.  I felt loved.

So lovely!

I hope you had a happy, meaningful Christmas!

Handel's Messiah

The ad 

Some people celebrated 12/12/12 with wedding nuptials.  My family celebrated it with traditional Advent. Last night, I took my mom to dinner and Handel's Messiah.  It was an enjoyable evening (better than some weddings I've attended).  It felt apropos since she was the one who introduced me to the music.  When I was little, I remember the woman playing the timpani, the color of the trumpet, and the audience standing for the Hallelujah chorus. The program had the text in its entirety with the Bible verses, which was helpful.  Now, I really like the choruses: I'm not sure if that's due to maturity or theological development or mere coincidence.

We went to Harvest Moon Grille for dinner.  It's one of those hipster joints that only uses local food.  It was delish! Mom got the kale salad and smoked chicken breast.  I got the roasted squash salad and pork shank.  I've never had sweet potatoes au gratin before, but they were good.  Even the butter was local and yummy.

Watch for the Light

I can't wait for Advent!*  December 2nd: the count-down is on.  I taught a class on Advent last year, which served as a great excuse to sprinkle my blog with advent poems and such.  No doubt there will be some of that this year. 

For a lot of history, the church has treated Advent in the same manner they treated Lent; there was more longing and penitence and less  shopping and decorating.  We miss so much skipping over Advent: a punch line needs a joke.  We don't do waiting in our culture-- we're far too important and busy.

I've been on a quest for a good Advent devotional book, a guide: Watch for the Light.  In this context, "good" means intelligent not sentimental, insightful not cliche, what I need to hear not what I want to hear.

I think I may have found it... after reading November 24th's reading, Blumhardt's "Action in Waiting":

".... We live in a mass of wrongs and untruths, and they surround us as a dark, dark night. Not even in the most flagrant things do we manage to break through....

"Anyone whose attention is fixed on the coming reign of God and who wants to see a change brought about in God's house will become more and more aware that there exists a universal wrongness that is pulled over us like a choking, suffocating blanket." (5-6)

"We must speak in practical terms.  Either Christ's coming has meaning for us now, or else it means nothing at all." (10)

"The all-important thing is to keep your eyes on what comes from God and to make way for it to come into being here on earth. If you always try to be heavenly and spiritually minded, you won't understand the everyday work God has for you to do...." (12)

Humble thyself.  "Because a transformation of this scale can never be achieved by human means, but only by divine intervention, Advent (to quote Bonhoeffer again) might be compared to a prison cell 'in which one waits and hope and does various unessential things... but is completely dependent on the fact that the door of freedom has to be opened from the outside.' It is a fitting metaphor. But dependency does not release us from responsibility. If the essence of Advent is expectancy, it is also readiness for action: watchfulness for every opening, and willingness to risk everything for freedom and a new beginning." (xvi)

I like how the writers lean into the tension of watching and willingness.  In fact, I need it.

I'll close with the poem the book opens:

Lo, in the silent night

A child to God is born

And all is brought again

That ere was lost or lorn.

Could but thy soul, O man,

Become a silent night!

God would be born in thee

And set all things aright!

                              15th Century

*Haha, a little Advent humor.

A Collect for Fridays... and Mand ;)

Almighty God, whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord. Amen.
(A Collect for Fridays, Morning Prayer II in the Common Book of Prayer)

This collect states the difference between Jesus and Oprah.  Maybe there's more to life than being nice, happy, and comfortable.  Maybe we're a little more broken than we let on. Then again, maybe I haven't done enough navel gazing recently.

And, since it's Thanksgiving, one more from the Book of Common Prayer-- it's got a little kick:

The General Thanksgiving

Almighty God, Father of all mercies,
we your unworthy servants give you humble thanks
for all your goodness and loving-kindness
to us and to all whom you have made.
We bless you for your creation, preservation,
and all the blessings of this life;
but above all for your immeasurable love
in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ;
for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory.
And, we pray, give us such an awareness of your mercies,
that with truly thankful hearts we may show forth your praise,
not only with our lips, but in our lives,
by giving up our selves to your service,
and by walking before you
in holiness and righteousness all our days;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit,
be honor and glory throughout the ages. Amen.

notes on thank you

People don’t write thank notes; they write thank you notes.  Similarly, the meaning of thanksgiving isn’t for what you’re thankful but to whom you give thanks. 

As Americans our gratitude list is long.  Perhaps, it’s one of the longest lists in history. Hot showers and well-stocked grocery stores are amazing.

Feeling gratitude is mood enhancing and good psychology although it isn’t the purpose of thanksgiving. Gifts, which most impacted my life, never filled me with gratitude.  Braces, tenth grade, and rowing practice come to mind.  These three things improved me, but I rarely felt thankful when I couldn’t chew gum or studied Modern World History or woke up at 4:45am.  I never thanked God for the opportunity to have a corrected overbite or read primary texts or participate in Title IX athletics.

It’s about to whom you give thanks.  I fall into an uncomfortable mishmash of self-congratulation and sense of entitlement when I’m not focused on God as the giver of things good. My life starts being all about me.  The value of my job, my friends, and my hobbies decreases as each becomes an obstacle to my self-actualization.

Appreciating God as the cause of all my thanks grounds me.  It’s about God.  Of course, this statement begs the question of situations of unemployment, cancer, infertility, natural disasters, and all other struggles.  This essay is far too simple to address this theological complexity. However, I thank God for his goodness and power as mysterious and beyond my ability to understand as they are.  Thanking and praising God reorient me to reality—the reality that’s much bigger and far beyond me. Thank God.

more tuition

remarkably similar to my car-- even the right color!

6:57 am last Friday my car would not start.  Absolutely nothing.  Since It was my 10th day on the job, I didn't have a lot of wiggle room about being late let alone not showing.  My mind raced.  This had never happened to me, which is kind of nice considering I have a 1993 Corolla wagon with over 295,000 miles.

On Wednesday, my plumber neighbor warned me that my break lights were turning on and off at will, and that would eventually drain my battery.  I didn't really worry about it because the lights didn't seem to stay on very long.  I usually give myself a couple weeks of leeway with car problems.

Big mistake.

My mom loaned me her car to get me out of the pickle... AND took my car to the mechanic.  Friday night and $80 later, I had my car back.

Sunday morning came as did weird noises and a hesitant start.  Then, I stopped at Food Lion to pick up a bag of Cheetos before church because I was running early.  When I came out, my car wouldn't start.  The lady loading her minivan with groceries called her husband to figure out how to help me.  Then, this guy in a teal Chevy pickup truck came around and the guy jumped my car's battery.  I decided to risk going to church.  My car cranked after some sputtering.  Mom told me to take her car to work Monday.  I found out Monday night the car didn't start for her.  She had to take my car to the mechanic again.  This time he replaced the battery.  He didn't charge her and gave her his business card, haven written his cell number on the back in case we had more trouble.

The car has been on its best behavior ever since.  I went by the mechanic's and shelled out $90 today because the battery worked.  He had gotten the part from Toyota and put it on for me.

It made me realize how much I take for granted.  And, I realized how the past couple of years have changed me.  I'm glad that my car wouldn't start instead of breaking down while driving.  I'm really glad my mom was so close to bail me out with her car.  And, the $170 was expensive with the thin margins I'm running, but it's still a far better deal than a car payment.

And, my car is a puny need in the big picture.  I have friends who are struggling through much more trying trials.  Faith and hope are a far more rugged workout than I imagined.  You come out different.

Here's a FB status from a friend that celebrates the beauty of normal:

You know, I'd never thought about it before all this happened, but even a simple task like taking a shower requires a lot of balance and strength. I couldn't even step INTO the shower for several months. Now I've gotten the showering routine back down to about 20 minutes. Small things, but it's a lot of progress from where I was!

One of her friend's responded: I feel you! I got excited to be able to cut my toenails today!

Praise God for cars that start, the ability to shower and cut toe nails, baking sugar cookies, basking in sunshine!

all's well

A good report all around.

Work is going well. I feel like I'm catching on, building some cognitive and relational momentum. Heck, I'm even enjoying dressing up.  I'm trying to decide what purchases to make because this is a far fancier job than teaching.  I've come to a reasonable compromise with the traffic: I leave at 7am and arrive to work at 7:30 and do my devotion in my car.  And, I beat the traffic home by stopping at the Y on the way home and doing my 5 or 7 miles and maybe a class.  So, it's a little longer, but flexibility makes it far more enjoyable.

I didn't run after work but went to church instead.  It was on "Hallowed by thy name."  It hit a nerve... in a good way.  It was a reminder of my constant need to get reoriented to Reality.  God's bigger and stronger than any of the problems whether a political election or unemployment.

The icing on the cake: really phenomenal conversations with dear friends.  One on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.  I felt loved, grounded and encouraged by the words and the relationships.

Great things

"Expect great things from God.  Attempt great things for God." -William Carey

What are your expectations from God?  What are you attempting for God?  This was the crux of Bill's sermon on Ruth 3:6-15 today.  Challenging stuff.

freedom?!?*

Studying in Canada revealed how profoundly American I am. I think like an American. I have an American attitude: I expect things to be quick and orderly. I don't like people telling me what to do-- I hate being micro-managed. There are certain presumptions that I take for granted because I am American: individual freedom being one of those core values. Hello, Bill of Rights. Hello, Declaration of Liberty!

I used to think that freedom would arrive with adulthood. No more bedtime! No more chores! I could all my money however I wanted! I could eat all the dessert I wanted! No more green peas. I would get to do whatever I wanted and be whomever I wanted to be. Haha... at least for me. Now, it seems that as we age we inevitably move toward more constraints... or at least different constraints. Even more shocking, I'm not sure the constraints are all bad. I'm coming to think independence (as a free-floating state) is an intellectual farce just as autonomy is.

My American and childhood concepts of freedom are small and naive compared to the Christian concept. Os Guiness sees current American culture in the context of a War about Freedom. The Judeo- Christian concept of freedom:

Jewish and Christian freedom has a number of very striking features. It's derived, not self-created. It's relational; it has to be done in community. It's not atomistic and individualistic. And it has a framework of truth—"The truth will set you free." And it's not boundless.

Opposed to:
On the other hand, you have the philosophical revolution that comes out of the Renaissance that humans are capable of creating themselves. You tie that with the scientific revolution, which imagines we can through science create ourselves. And then there is the consumer revolution, where everything is possible through the market and you can be whoever you want to be. You can see how these things have created this incredible sense of infinite possibility. You have profoundly anti-Christian views on freedom underlying so many of the discussions.

Judeo-Christian freedom is derived, relational, done in community, bounded by absolute truth: a meta-narrative rooted in history centered on God. In the Christian faith, we're freed from death and sin in order to become fully, truly human through relationship with Jesus and our neighbors. Whereas, the philosophical revolution conceives freedom in human-centered terms of infinite possibility. I conceptualize this infinite possibility in terms of self fulfillment and reaching potential.

Conflict is eminent. Internal conflict for the American Christian... or Christian American. Christian freedom gives a person an identity as a child of God and a member of the Church; it's a bounded identity. We're called to love... because we are loved. There's a moral aspect to Christian freedom. Modern philosophy says identity is self-created or chosen (I'm straight or gay, Republican or Democrat, my profession, my race, my weight, my marital status). This kind of identity is prone to fluctuate with circumstances.

An added dimension of the concept of freedom is the positive and negative freedom, using Isaiah Berlin's categories*. Os Guinness defines them as:
Negative freedom is freedom from—freedom from oppression, whether it's a colonial power or addiction to alcohol oppressing you. You need to be freed from negative freedom. Positive freedom is freedom for, freedom to be. And that's what's routinely ignored today.

To quote Kierkegaard: How absurd men are! They never use the liberties they have, they demand those they do not have. They have freedom of thought, they demand freedom of speech.

Os Guinness argues (correctly, I believe) that Americans are interested in negative freedom rather than positive freedom. We're more interested in being able to drink a 32 oz Coca-Cola in NYC than we are in the freedom to live a healthy lifestyle. I know I view freedom in more American/negative terms than Christian/positive terms. I can feel my tendency toward negative freedom in my hesitation toward commitments. But, making a commitment to other people forces us to become people and to face our demons that we could easily avoid outside community. We are profoundly social beings; it's in our DNA. The illusion of autonomy is giving us rope to hang ourselves with a freedom unbounded by morality/virtue. Having to create and maintain an identity is a lot of work.

Transformation is a slow process.

* This is a reflection on Christianity Today's Freedom in Balance (interview with Os Guinness)

pomo tribes, etc.

Samuel Salcedo

The universe feels full of surprisingly heavy, sharp objects-- shards of glass.  I keep waiting for life to make sense... to be logical.  But, I'm standing too close to it.  If I could understand then I could control it, right?  Thanks, Descartes, for setting me up for disappointment and a life of low-grade frustration.

Relief came in the form of "aha" listening to James Houston's lecture.  I've been flailing against these ridiculous, nonsensical, purposeless classes that prove nothing but are necessary to certification.  Houston relieved my angst: Postmodernism has returned to a tribalism, and professionalism is the new tribalism.  Overall, I agree with his take from experiencing 1) certification hoops that must be jumped, 2) the existential angst that comes with unemployment (granted I'm prone to all forms of angst in all situations), 3) observing my mom's decision-making process regarding retirement and my friends who've chosen to stay at home with their children.

I listened to his lecture on identity at least three times.  Ontology fascinates and plagues me.  He basically said that people who stick with "what" questions can find answers, and people who ask "why" questions will discover more questions.  What I understood him to say is that there is no I.  Our fierce individualism is a fallacy.  The elemental level of society is not the individual, but the mother and child. We are not islands.  Replacing "we" with "I" has caused of a lot of problems.  "We" has room for love.  "I" will always be pitted against the other.  "We" can be enlarged to the point that "other" no longer exists.  In this sense, All Saints' Day is more important than Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost. All Saints is the answer to Jesus' prayer in John 17.  I'm oversimplifying.

He wasn't limiting or denigrating our personhood, but saying that we are persons only through relationships.  We weren't designed to be individuals.  We are limited in our ability to engage in relationship by our degree of self-knowledge.  We really need to plumb the feelings and memories behind our ideas and attitudes.

We're like Zacheus perched in a tree, wanting to glimpse and experience Jesus from a distance and on our own terms.  That's the blessing and curse of the Christian life: after encountering Christ you cannot remain the same.   To encounter Jesus is to be truly seen and known-- absolute vulnerability in the surest of loves.

But, the fruits of the spirit make sense in the context of relationship when you think about it.  Gentleness, kindness and patience, etc. wouldn't be that necessary on a deserted island.  Self control on the other hand...

It's a beautiful lecture; I'll be contemplating if for a long time.

Respectable Sins by Jerry Bridges

"Sin" is such an old-fashioned word in our society.  We now have issues, difficult childhoods, and natural proclivities.  It's hard to say that any behavior is deviant in our culture.  Murder and pedophilia are still universally accepted as wrong, but the list is getting shorter and terms qualified.

Then, within the church, sins are the things Christians would never dream of doing: abortion and homosexuality come to mind.  Now, those are sins!  We believe in the doctrine of niceness: we need to seem nice, good and happy. And, good church-goers don't tolerate those bad sins on which we focus.  However, we leave a lot of room for petty, acceptable sins in our lives.

In his book, Respectable Sins, Jerry Bridges minds the gap between the idea of no sin and blatant sin.  He argues that sin robs Christians of joy and contentment.  He doesn't broach any "major" sins like pornography, lying, stealing, which based on statistics, Christians do on a regular basis.  He delves into subtle, acceptable sins that we take for granted in our lives as personality traits and intrinsic foibles.

Bridges argues that these petty sins we tolerate are an affront to God's holiness. The first third of the book sets the stage for individual sins.  He winsomely portrays holiness and the malignancy of sin in our lives and witness.  Much like George MacDonald, Bridges makes goodness look good.

The list of sins/chapters:
Ungodliness (or what I've heard called practical atheism)
Anxiety and Frustration
Discontentment
Unthankfulness
Pride
Selfishness
Lack of Self Control
Impatience and Irritability
Anger
Weeds of Anger
Judgmentalism
Envy, Jealousy and Related Sins
Sins of the Tongue (gossip, slander, lying, harsh words, sarcasm, insults, ridicule)
Worldliness

I don't know about you, but this list made me cringe. This book is hard to read (not intellectually but spiritually).  It's humbling and worthwhile.  It reminds me of the quotation: "Grace is fundamentally odious" and the freedom the doctrine of sin allows.  We can be cured/freed/released of all these petty things that suck the joy out of life.  "Remember that our progressive sanctification-- that is, our putting off sin and putting on Christlikeness-- rests on two foundation stones: the righteousness of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit" (181).  We're not on our own, and the author is constantly reminding us.

I also found Bridge's phrase dependent responsibility really helpful. "... We are responsible before God to obey His Word, to put to death the sins in our lives.... At the same time, we do not have the ability within ourselves to carry out this responsibility.  We are in fact totally dependent upon the enabling power of the Holy Spirit.  In this sense, we are both responsible and dependent" (41).

He describes the sins and then gives Scripture to help combat the sin (I know it sounds kind of hokey). This is the summary from the chapter: "Directions for Dealing with Sins"
Apply the gospel.
Depend on the Holy Spirit.
Recognize your responsibility.
Identify specific respectable sins.
Memorize and apply appropriate Scriptures.
Involve one or a few other believers with you. (51).

I found the most difficult part of the book to grapple with is God, specifically his sovereignty and goodness.  Intellectually, I think I grasp it.  Psychologically, spiritually and practically, I know I don't.  To believe in a sovereign and good God seems almost laughable when you look around at all the pain and suffering, but that is why we were given the Bible.  And, Bridges returns to Scripture again and again to get a clear vision of God and reality.  To believe in the goodness and power of God alters reality to the point that you live differently: eternity becomes real.

"To be sane in a mad time
is bad for the brain, worse
for the heart. The world
is a holy vision, had we clarity
to see it...." -Wendell Berry

We gain that clarity through Scripture, prayer, and each other.  Bible verses are amply sprinkled throughout the text.  Imagine believing Romans 8:28 with every fiber of your being. Or, "Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; And in your book were written The days that were ordained for me, When as yet there was not one of them" (Psalm 139:16).  This  differs profoundly from the "you can be anything you want to be" slogan I grew up with.  Ultimately, it's not about me or up to me, God's love and purpose are the foundations of life.

As you have noticed, I'm still grappling with it.  It's a deep book with practical applications.

Not alone

"We read to know we are not alone," wrote CS Lewis.  This is one of my favorite quotations.  I had a professor who said some of his best friends were books.  A book can offer amazing companionship.  The Catcher in the Rye and Holden Caulfield were my good friends in tenth grade.  I loved the ducks in Central Park question, the baseball glove, discussion of pimples, and the"phonies".  Holden got it.

Tenth grade was also the year I gave up reading horoscopes.  I was reading some teenage-ish magazine's horoscope, and MY horoscope stated that I would meet a cute boy near my locker and that we'd fall in love.  I got really peeved because a) I didn't have a locker and b) there were no boys at my school.  So, I was not going to fall madly in love that month.  Not only that, but it was wrong from its conception: it was using the law of averages (lockers and boys are pretty safe bets for most high schools), and my situation didn't fit.  For some reason, this resonated deeply in my teenage philosophical sensibilities.

So, I've transferred my disdain of horoscopes to daily devotionals.  Seriously, how on target can they be?  And, I can't do daily devotionals for women.  I find them insulting (clearly, I have some deep-seated issues.)

But, the human condition is universal.  JD Salinger nailed teenage angst and ennui.  The horoscopist nailed my desire to fall in love with a cute boy... just didn't realize how high the odds were stacked against me.  And, I think the universality is especially true on a spiritual level.  St. Augustine's description of "the God-shaped hole" in our hearts is the crux of so much pain.

Anyway, that was a really long introduction to the fact that I've been reading two daily devotionals recently.  One is "Streams in the Desert Volume 1" that I bought for $2.00 and smells like it's older than I am but in a bookish way.  And the other one is cheesy, but I'm enjoying it: Jesus Calling by Sarah Young.  It's written in Jesus's voice-- it's as if he's talking to you.  It's super cheesy and a great reminder of his realness.  And, it's really short.

Streams in the Desert was first copyrighted in 1925, so it can be a little stilted at times.  (But, if you read this blog, you'll do just fine with it.)  But, July 31st entry was perfect for my July 31, 2012:

"He guided them by the skillfulness of his hands." (Psa. 78:72)

When you are doubtful as to your course, submit your judgment absolutely to the Spirit of God, and ask Him to shut against you every door but the right one... Meanwhile keep on as you are and consider the absence of indication to be the indication of God's will that you are on His track... As you go down the long corridor, you will find that He has preceded you, and locked many doors which you would fain have entered; but beyond these there is one which He has left unlocked. Open it and enter, and you will find yourself face to face with a bend of the river of opportunity, broader and deeper than anything you had dared to imagine in your sunniest dreams.  Launch forth upon it; it conducts to the open sea.

God guides us, often by circumstances.  At one moment the way may seem utterly blocked; and then shortly afterward some trivial incident occurs, which might not seem much to others, but which to the keen eye of faith speaks volumes. Sometimes these are repeated in various ways, in answer to prayer. They are not haphazard results of chance, but the opening up of circumstances in the direction we would walk. And they begin to multiply as we advance toward our goal, just as the lights do as we near a populous town, when darting through the land by night express. -F.B. Meyer 

I really needed these words and the pictures they paint yesterday (and today) and don't think it was haphazard results of chance that I came across them.  Right now, it does feel like I'm walking down a long corridor with a lot of locked doors.  But, it helps to think of God as a parent locking doors/ putting up safety walls to prevent my doing something really stupid.

And, although it feels futile to keep applying to jobs, and writing letters trying to figure out licensure.  I'm always finding the balance between faith and action.  It's as my grandpa used to say, "The harder I work, the luckier I get."  I need to keep going down the corridor trying doors, knowing that I'm not alone.

Flo Rida Part 2

"Me" on my little metaphorical sailboat

Today started late.  I woke up at 9:30.  I went to the farmer's market, visited the nursing home bringing my friends flowers, and received a call from the head of middle school at the Florida school.  (BOOM!  I'm flying down there next Tuesday for an interview.)  I then went to my appointment for my brow wax.  I even stopped by my favorite thrift store, and it was having a sale.  I got a navy cotton J.Crew suit that fits well for $12; it doesn't require any alterations (but I'll have to wear flats).  I bought a suit because I only own a tropical weight wool suit.  I don't care what weight it is; if it's wool, it's not going to work in southern Florida in July.  I went by the 24/7 prayer room and... prayed. Then,  I got my hair chopped.  The stylist told me, "You have a fantastic jawline for short hair."  I said, "Thank you."  Because she said I had a fantastic jaw.  Too bad jaws are underrated.  Now all I need to do is find a "jaw guy".

I came home and booked the flight.  I'm putting it on my card, and the school is going to reimburse me. I'm spending one night.

It's good to feel the breeze of hope.  I'm going to hoist my sail and see where it leads.  I'm very thankful to Jesus for this much needed break.  When I told my mom, I think she was happier for me than even I was.  I love the Mom.

Maybe I'm going to start sleeping in on principal.

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.

... for they shall see God

‎...for they shall see God

Christ risen was rarely
recognized by sight.
They had to get beyond the way he looked.
Evidence stronger than
his voice and face and footstep
waited to grow in them, to guide
their groping from despair,
their stretching toward belief.

We are as blind as they
until the opening of our deeper eyes
shows us the hands that bless
and break our bread,
until we finger
wounds that tell our healing,
or witness a miracle of fish
dawn-caught after our long night
of empty nets. Handling
his Word, we feel his flesh,
his bones, and hear his voice
calling our early-morning name.

Luci Shaw

Luci's words are far more eloquent and wise than any I could muster. Happy Easter!

I found one more Easter tidbit I liked:

‎"At its core, the Christian belief in Christ’s resurrection defies all natural explanations. It is not, strictly speaking, a reasonable claim, but it does not oppose reason so much as transcend it. Humans did not rise from the dead with any greater frequency in Jesus’ time than in our own; the miracle of resurrection was as astounding then as now. And while his resurrection was both prophesied centuries in advance, and contemporaneously attested to by many eyewitnesses, there is no natural accounting for the fact. It remains, millennia later, a mystery – one that has outlasted heresies and corruptions, opposition and apathy".
– Cherie Harder, Trinity Forum

Lent Reflections #1

The heart of Lent for me can be summed up with three verses from the Granddaddy of the penitential Psalms (51):
Create in me a clean heart, O God.
Restore a steadfast spirit within me.

Cast me not from your presence
Take not your Holy Spirit from me.

Renew the joy of your salvation within me.
Uphold me with a willing spirit.

Giving up something for Lent is not mere sacrifice but movement toward Jesus; it’s a response to Jesus’ invitation (as is all of the Christian life): “Come to me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden light,” Matthew 11:28-30.

But before we can take on Jesus’s burdens and yoke we have to rid ourselves of the ones we already have. Think of Christians as pilgrims on a journey, and each one takes out two-pound's worth out of his or her sack and leaves it on the side of road so she can travel just that more easily. It’s not a lot of weight, but it makes a difference psychologically. She starts to hike at a faster pace—and realizes she never really needed the thing.

What I gave up (some foods and FaceBook) serve as distractions in my life, and weigh me down. They take up too much mental real estate—and in case of the food, money. They’re things I’m aware I needed to monitor but hadn’t bothered to do.

The clean food also works for a metaphor for other parts of my life: how often I prefer junk food to healthy food, which is ultimately a habit. As I ate a fruit salad this week, I realized it tasted far better than ice cream and wouldn’t feel any guilt because the food served a purpose beyond tasting good. I need to spend my time on fruit salad vs. ice cream: people versus stuff, eternal versus transient. I think the yoke Jesus refers to is obedience and the burden is love for others. The journey towards Jesus is reclaiming our hearts for good and true things (a.k.a. a clean heart):
“Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks
Our peace in His will.”
-T.S. Eliot in “Ash Wednesday”

My mother and I always go to the Benedictine Monastery’s Ash Wednesday service. It’s a deep, heavy service… in the best possible way. The abbot’s homily was far too much for one sitting. The thought from it that has taken root is: most often we pray for God to change people and situations, we rarely pray for God to change us. Lent is a time to acknowledge our deep need for Jesus and our desperate need to be changed.

“Christ is the way out, and the way in: the way from slavery, conscious or unconscious, into liberty; the way from the unhomeliness of things to the home we desire but do not know….” -George McDonald

(Most of the quotations come from Even Among These Rocks by Steven Purcell. It is the absolute best devotion on Lent.)

Thrown bones

So, some days are rough. My brother said to me: "You're to emotion what monotone is to voice." We both started laughing. He has a point, and I don't know what to do about it. I'm naturally intense, but now the intensity is rubbed raw making it all the more intense. Yeehaw. Anyway, I'm struggling for joy.

Some days, I pray, "Throw me a bone." I feel it's a variation on the woman asking for scraps from the table. And, the three bones I've received recently:

The movie Hugo is phenomenal. It's a feel-good movie with some really cool literary devices. It's also nominated for the most Oscars. It's a kids' movie in the same manner Narnia is.

These two quotations:

"Everything that happens to you is your teacher:
The secret is to learn to sit at the feet of your own life and be taught by it.
Everything that happens is either a blessing which is also a lesson,
or a lesson which is also a blessing."
- Polly Berrien Berends, Quaker author

‎"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle."

weltschmerz to joy

Weltschmerz: Must Speak Bhutanese

My routine: find out about a job. Apply: write a cover letter and rework an existing resume after researching the company/organization. Wait. Interview. Wait. Somewhere during the process I generally fall in love with the job, and daydream about doing the job. What would I wear? Would I eat lunch at my desk? The process can stop prematurely at any stage. My latest crush ended at 12:11 this afternoon with a “we decided to offer the job to a Bhutanese speaking interpreter we are waiting for the approval of the NC state office. If the status changes we will call you back.”

But, I have to say this was one of the best rejections I’ve received. What do you say to that? I don’t know Spanish let alone Bhutanese; it’s a major oversight in my education. And, I thought I was specialized.


Rejection and failure happen on a regular basis, especially when you’re an idealist. Germans Romantics even coined a word for it: weltschmerz. They added the German words “world” + “pain” to get “worldpain”. According to Merriam-Webster online, there are two definitions:
1. mental depression or apathy caused by comparison of the actual state of the world with an ideal state
2. a mood of sentimental sadness.

Of course, there’s a time and place for sentimental sadness when dealing with rejection as any teenager will demonstrate. I had a friend who had a three-day rule with a breakup that he learned from his grandmother. According to him, one is allotted three days of moping misery, and one must put her all into the grief because that’s all you get.

Apathy is definitely a popular option. Disengagement has a lot of different routes whether drugs or chosen ignorance or denial.

There are also really great platitudes to use as a mantras to beef up your will power: “Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”– Confucius. There’s also work one can put into the front end of rejection and failure. It’s what my sister constantly reminds me to do: manage my expectations. She says I need to be realistic about myself and others. There is a place for cautious optimism emphasis on cautious. She reminds me that there are too many variables in any situation that I don’t know and have no control over.

However, when I opened my Bhutanese rejection, I laughed. Mirth. Yet another option. How ridiculous is this? I’m tired of getting “overqualified” as a reason for not getting a job. It is hard to argue with someone who says “life is pain” because they have a lot of evidence to settle his case. But, maybe I should start thinking in terms of “life is strange” because strangeness allows for room to be shocked and laugh.

Two weeks ago, I was miring in Weltschmerz. Lingering in it. My entire life was feeling like unjust punishment. A Wendell Berry line functioned as my lifeline out of the mental quicksand:
“…Laugh.

Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful

though you have considered all the facts.” (Manifesto: Mad Farmer Liberation Front)

The Bhutanese clause jolted me out of the week’s funk. It reminded me that my life is a comedy because we are guaranteed a happy ending. It reminded me that I’m owed nothing and know very little. It also gave me hope: if someone can find a job because of Bhutanese then there’s bound to be a job for me using my wacky, miscellaneous skills, experiences and education. Right? Granted, there aren’t refugees in need of Latin and Ancient Greek... unless the zombie movies are for real. Then, I could be the zombie whisperer.

I’m attending a class on the fruits of the Spirit. As coincidence would have it, this past Wednesday was on joy. Of course, there was a differentiation made between joy and happiness. It was also mentioned that the Spiritual fruits were more in line with character traits than with emotion. In the same way God is love and peace, we are to become love, peace, joy, gentleness and etc. It’s hard to wrap my head around joy as a character trait, but I know I’ve encountered people who have joy deeply woven into their soul. And, it’s different than happiness and luck and optimism. I’m thinking mostly of older people who have had rough lives; they earned the right to be bitter. But joy is who they are—it’s in line with gentleness, peace and self-control.

But, we have “to struggle for joy.” It brought me to the ubiquitous concept of dialectic in seminary. Joy is hard earned; it isn’t a default setting. Joy has stiff competition: anger, bitterness, and apathy. But, joy, like enjoyment in Ecclesiastes, is ultimately a gift. It is unattainable on our own striving. Ah, the alchemy of faith, obedience, and grace. Laughter, gratitude, hope, and kindness are all part of the arsenal that help us struggle towards joy—confidence in a big and good God… even after having considered all the facts.

*http://luc.devroye.org/bhutan.html (image address)

gratitude

Most of the day I felt sorry for myself. I was grumbling to myself as I cooked chili and no bake cookies for a family at church who just had a baby boy. I was thinking: why doesn't anybody cook for me? Grumble, grumble, grumble. What can you do besides hatch a kid to be worthy of some attention?

I was grumbling to my Aunt at dinner (china, crystal, candle, roast, roasted potatoes, salad, Cab Sav, etc.), and she pointed out that she'd cooked dinner for me. Touche. But, I take that for granted. How lucky am I? She does cook a lot of really good meals for me. She told me I need to keep a gratitude journal-- fair enough.

My mom took off from work today to deliver a bouquet of chocolate covered strawberries to a janitor who is retiring. She drove 40 miles. He was a janitor at a school where she had worked over ten years ago; she felt he needed to be celebrated. She spent over fifty dollars on the ridiculous bouquet; she wanted it to be frivolous and over the top. How lucky am I to have a mom like that? A lot of people might do that for a boss, but a janitor?

My mom's friend spent about 3 hours with me this morning helping me set up a website for my "business". She has a Master's in Computer Science. Think how much money that would have cost if she'd charge me her fees?

And the ecstatic welcome I receive from my dog. What if I got that excited about seeing someone come home? Now that's the good life. Right now he's nuzzled up to me as I type. He keeps readjusting himself in order to get petted.