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." 

chats, grilled cheese, hope, art and "art"

Tattooed Pigs Fly

Origami Tree!!!

Tools: For the man who has everything

My "weekend" is Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.  It's a little weird but doable.  It's a great schedule for looking for a job.  This "weekend" really flew by.

A Hoot

Tuesday was wrapped up in talking with this headmaster of a school in Seattle.  Don't misinterpret: I'm a long ways away from accepting a job offer.  But, I wanted to chat with someone before I embarked on the rather daunting application process.  There are several essays and such... it reminded me of college apps really.  After discussing with the head of school, I decided the essays would be a good exercise for me anyway; they'd help me clarify what I have to offer and what I want from a position. I cannot tell you how pivotal this conversation was in my perspective, compounded with some letters and journaling I did this past week.  I even bought a 2013 All Sport Season's Pass at the White Water Center.  I want to go at least once a week!

Cupcake Tree!

Chill Wednesday: my shoulders hurt when I went to bed and hurt when I woke up so I got an hour long CHINESE MASSAGE, which put me in a mood for a great hike, received an email about teaching English in Rwanda this summer!!!!, curse at fellow drivers while I listen to the Gospel of John on CD (I'm that bad but so was their driving), consider the irony, brow wax, discuss providence, good works, tattoos, nose rings, meet a good friend at one restaurant, apologize to bartender and leave for half-price wine at another one, fall in love with Llama Malbec, buy a hat at Nordstrom's, read some in Les Mis.

one of the misses

before they were dry

Grilled Cheese Thursday: got up at 6 am, chatted and read, went back to bed.  Woke up second time at 10:13am to two  calls from my favorite neighbor. called neighbor back and made lunch plans. bought one pound of  Neese's Extra Sage Sausage. went to lunch with neighbor ate a Blackberry Brie Grilled Cheese with Tomato Basil soup at Spindle City.  proceeded across the street to the Art Guild.  chatted with the artist and enjoyed the broad range of art.  some were hits and some were misses.  Impressed my favorite neighbor; she asked me, "Were you pulling that lady's leg? Were you just making that up?" I told her, "I did take some art in college, but I mostly shot from the hip."  Fav neighb responded, "Well, we made her day." Made work-intensive, dry Sausage balls. Drove to the String Bean to meet a friend who ended up getting lost.  Drank a beer and journaled the hour away. Ate another grilled cheese.  Had a great conversation about the Hobbit, demons, smartphones.  Thoroughly enjoyed our friendship.

Pillow Cake= Comfort Food?

Have Fun!

My family's sign off is: "Have fun!"  It's true whether you're heading to the grocery store, work, workout, etc.  In situations when most people would say "bye" or "love you", we say, "Have fun!"  It's been true since I was little-- when we'd go to school or dance class or girl scouts.

It's our form or "Carpe diem".  Fun is a choice because it comes down to attitude.  These past couple of days I've been having fun despite some challenging circumstances.  Yesterday I told must of made up twenty jokes, and at least half of them were funny.  A couple of them were hilarious.

I've decided to be a good, hard-working pet monkey that doesn't get frustrated when she forgets her tricks half way through the routine.

Today, I had a lovely surprise.  A friend was in town for the weekend for a family wedding.  He called me and we had lunch.  It gets better: Ethiopian.  Then, I trained with a self-proclaimed slacker.  Then, I went out to dinner, watched the Curve movie, and went out for wine afterwards.  It was a lovely day because I had fun.

pet monkey learns new tricks: week 3 of new job

This week I've started to become frustrated with myself and training.  It all feels so cumbersome and takes me forever and ever.  I forget whether to key lnsc, lnai, or lnhi before I can key lnlc.  It reminds of Greek 1 but with a live audience.

There are all these DOS commands and banking lingo to digest and use.  I've felt like stating more than once, "I'm not retarded, I'm confused."  The trainer that came from headquarters is ridiculous and contributes .  Right before he gave us a break, he said, "It'll be a quick ten-minute break. You can use the bathroom, stretch your legs, get some water."  I thanked him for the pointers.  And I couldn't help myself when he said, "A person's geological location doesn't matter."  I asked, "Do you mean geographical?"

But, my real beef with trainer guy can be summed up with this exchange.  I'd just finished a "fake call" with a "woman" who had nonsufficient funds (that's what they call it-- not "insufficient") in her account.  I concluded the phone call with "Have a great day."  Just after I said it, I realized I'd probably be pissed if someone said that to me.  So I asked, "Am I being a smart ass to say 'Have a great day' when it's pretty obvious the woman isn't?"  He said, "It was professional and that I had no right to judge the members."  I realized we definitely have a communication disconnect.

And, I feel a little bullied by two of the girls.  However, that's one of the nice things about being 10 years older.  I feel mostly amused and slightly irritated about their rudeness.  But, I do have my kindred spirit.  He eats the free lunches too.  And, I knew we'd get along when he nodded off during the post lunch training.  Plus, he's having car trouble.  And, he doesn't intuit the 8 new programs we have to navigate.  He even gets aggravated.

At one break in which I hadn't received instructions on how to properly use it, I was watching some of the tax class guys mill about outside our room.  They were wearing maroon, royal blue, and charcoal gray shirts with dorky ties.  I told my ks, "I know you're too shy to ask me opinion on men's fashion, so, I'll tell you.  I hate dark shirts.  They remind me of Miami Vice and the mafia.  Not that I'd think less of you if you wore one."

He responded, "What do you have against the mafia?"

I told him, "I prefer my crime disorganized."

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.

Day 4: Testing out the service

I think I'm going to enjoy these people.

Exhibit 1:
We ate lunch in a gazebo.  Four of us were chatting and eating sandwiches, and we finally asked the guy from Argentina how he ended up here.  The reason: lady who is now his wife and mother of his children. She was from Ohio, and they met when he was a tour guide and she was a tourist.  He explained that she was "testing out the service."  I responded, "She must have liked it."

Exhibit 2:

While at lunch, I got a text from a friend that had just spoken with my supervisor and given a reference for me.  She texted, "I think you're going to keep your job."

Exhibit 3:

I hang out with the smokers because I like going outside for breaks too.  I was chatting with this one guy about Notre Dame joining the ACC.  While we got sidetracked, it came out he'd been really sick and had had a kidney transplant.

Merchant of Venice and Mercy

I went to see the Merchant of Venice tonight.  It was my first time ever seeing the play.  It was fantastic-- I thoroughly enjoyed it.  The actors did a fantastic job-- they were having a lot of fun.

I was really struck by the discussions of mercy throughout the play, esp. in the court scene.  Shylock refuses to give Antonio mercy; then, Shylock is refused mercy.  The plea for mercy:
The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless’d;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.

Portia is an amazing character.  She's clever, wise and human.  Shakespeare had such a strong, important female character in the Elizabethan era.  Modern Hollywood doesn't have as strong female characters.

There's a theme of being cautious and prudent and not accepting things and people at face value.  Human nature is on display.

"If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men’s cottages princes’ palaces." Portia

"The devil can cite scripture for his purpose.
An evil soul producing holy witness,
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek;
A goodly apple rotten at the heart:
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!" Antonio

Be wary:

"I like not fair terms and a villain's mind." Bassanio

Don't be a fool.  Don't be shallow:

"All that glisters is not gold,
Often have you heard that told:
Many a man his life hath sold,
But my outside to behold:
Gilded tombs do worms infold."  Prince of Morocco (in the letter)

Hard words:

"I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we shall resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge. The villainy you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction." Shylock

Next time you get a chance, go to see a play!

A visit

I took one of my former students on a college visit Friday.  I had to get some transcripts, so I asked if he wanted to go.  He was up for the adventure!  My college, UNC Chapel Hill, is a liberal arts school heavy on humanities and pure sciences. My former student is really good at computers and applied science; so, I decided to take him to NC State too.

When I spoke with my mom about this trip, she told me to look up one of her former students.  Turns out, he's a nuclear engineering student finishing his last semester this fall.  He went into the military after high school. And, I knew him because he's my age, and he was my mom's favorite student that year.

It was also really good to see the State guy.  He's a really awesome guy who's had a tough life but makes no excuses for himself and makes the best of situations.  It was a good reminder of the many ways I've been blessed.  I think it was really good for my student to talk with him because he has a different perspective on things than I do.  In fact, he flat-out told him things that contradicted me.  I told my student that's why you discuss ideas and plans with multiple people.

I think it was good for my student to see the schools.  I think it's hard to imagine college when you've never been to one.  There so much bigger and different than high school.  My student is starting high school this year, and I wanted him to see college to maybe get him motivated to do well.  We'll see if my plan works!

I still have no idea if I want to teach, and I thought the trip may have been clarifying.  I'm going to have lunch with a good friend I've had for over 20 years.  He's good at speaking the truth.

Southern afternoon

Farmers' Market. Watermelon, cucumbers, etc. Entertaining conversations with farmers. Took recycling and the attendant called me "ma'am" twice.

Lunch. I love a vegetable plate with macaroni and cheese, zucchini and squash, and pinto beans with sweet tea and my friend at a new restaurant.

Bookstore.  Bought a book (the last one of the title!). Read magazines for free. Excellent people watching.

Peach Ice Cream in South Carolina. Then we drove down to South Carolina... because why not? We went to the Peach Tree and shopped for produce.  Did you know there's sweet potato syrup? Then we got peach ice cream cones!  Ice cream is dangerous: my friend's scoop fell off her cone while driving.  She caught it.  We had to pull off the road.  We survived.

Drive. Past horse pastures, gardens, and lovely houses.

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.

"redneck" is relative

Yeehaw, it's Independence Day!  Let's shoot some fireworks, grill some meat, eat some watermelon, and drink some beer!

The last time I watched fireworks was in Edgartown on Martha's Vineyard two years ago.  It involved a picnic, a parade, a view of the ocean, a 5 mile race in the morning, and fireworks.  It was lovely.

It was nothing like tonight!  I was in the South.  We went to a friend's family gathering.  The food was plenteous: hotdogs, hamburgers, cheeseburgers, chili, potato salad, corn on the cob, creamed corn, four kinds of pickles, guacamole, watermelon, cantaloupe, seven kinds of chips, and I'm sure I'm forgetting some stuff.  For dessert, there were six kinds of cookies, apple pie, and ice cream cake.  I'm not in bed because my tummy aches.  But, it was worth it.

There was a pool and chatting for entertainment.

Then, there were fireworks.  Probably about $1500 worth.  All the fireworks stacked and in bags looked like presents at Christmas time. Remember: fireworks are illegal in North Carolina.  It seriously was one of the best shows I've seen.  Most of the fireworks were legitimate-- not backyard variety puny.  I think it was more fun because we got to see them set them off... then run.  I never knew fireworks had names: "Rainbow Warrior", "Touchdown of Alabama", "Russian Roulette".  The names were reminiscent of fortune cookies' fortunes.  And, I learned about "30 shots" versus "50 shots".

Not only was tonight great, but I also got some people interested in going to a dirt race.  I've wanted to go.  My brother has great stories, and I've never even gone.

I have a friend who considers me her redneck friend, and, I guess, I'm more uncouth than she.  I'm guessing she had a veggie burger with some pasta salad tonight. I consider these awesome individuals my redneck friends; and they're certainly less pretentious than I.  There were ladies that were quite large who were far more comfortable in their swim suits and tank tops than I am; I have a lot to learn about contentment. Then, while we were assessing the firework booty, a kid was talking about what rednecks would say.  This is to say, everybody needs some rednecks in her life.  They're so fun and authentic that it ain't too bad to be considered one.

"Argue naked. Everybody Wins."

This was not the car, but I wish it were.

That bumper sticker officially announced that college kids are back in town... And, so am I.  It's good to be back even if my tomatoes are underperforming.

I'm journaling through all my cataclysmic breakthroughs from my trip.  Well, they were more along the lines of realizations.  But, delving into the obvious is about as profound as I go.  I get excited about commas and puns... and bawdy bumper stickers.

I had some amazing conversations with friends (and strangers) that have given me much to mull over.

For instance, I spoke with this guy for nearly three hours from Houston to home.  We'd been on same the ridiculous flight from Vancouver to Houston (but we made the connection), and gone to the same university.  He's two years younger.  It was cool.  I was so tired but couldn't stop gabbing.  We talked about Canadians, Hong Kong, Taiwan, socialized medicine, third party pay, the role of liberal arts in a modern economy, the psychological and emotional aspects of home ownership, etc.  He's married with a kid, so it wasn't like that.

Staying with M, I read in several of her books.  She's got awesome books.  I dipped into her Mother Teresa book several times (and borrowed one from the library today).  I'd come across the quotation of doing small things with great love, but I read further and came upon the context of the quote which made it even more powerful.  Also, I really want to get a copy of her "Praying with Moses" devotional by Eugene Peterson.  It seemed pretty cool.

Another M mind invasion, I made my first lasagna tonight!  And invited a friend over!!  The Chief and S enjoyed it.  I nit picked it, but I think I'd been quite content if I weren't the one who'd come up with it.

This link is thought-provoking and in line with Mother Teresa:
50 ways to become the answer the answer to your prayers

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.

15th reunion

live bluegrass band

classmates' husbands and adorable babies

lots of talking and laughing

25% of my amazing class

great hike.  a favorite back then... and now.

How I know I'm Southern...

My aunt fixed a scrumptious dinner tonight. My mom brought delectable wine. I did my part by thoroughly enjoying everyone's efforts. I was even late. Aunt said, "So, you wanted to feel like a princess, did you?" And, I kind of did... in an under cover way.

When we discussed my gig, we talked for over five minutes about hands and cuticles. My mom gave me some hand lotion out of her pocket book and my aunt told me to massage my cuticles with the cream and sleep in cotton gloves. Paper and filing are apparently the Anti-Christ of a good manicure. This is how I know I'm Southern. And, they approved of my smart outfit (chocolate brown merino turtleneck, brown tweed skirt that I made, my "riding" boots, and pearl earrings).

As for the job, it's eminently doable. The people are from a different tribe, but they are nice. My tribe/clan has suffered from diaspora-- come back, tribe, come back to me. Me lonely. Vancouver, Kingston, Boston, Seattle, DC, Austin, Iowa, seriously, when you could live in the QC with me? I am here roughing it with bad cuticles.

I really want to join a community garden that's convenient. The one I've found is a thirty minute drive one-way. Yowsers. And, you don't eat the food-- you give it away. Double yowsers. I'd want to at least sample the yumminess. Mark my words, I may not get married or have children, but I will have a goat before I die. Dream big, right?

I really want to have an urban farm. Maybe underneath my tweed, there's an unkempt hippy protesting the injustice of materialism and my misguided life. Give me goats or give Wal-Mart! And, I want a chicken coop, blueberries and tomatoes. That would be the beginning. What a fantastic beginning. I'd invite you over for breakfast, and while we ate organic oatmeal and sipped piping hot coffee, the goat would wake us up with her delightful, goatish antics.


1. fixed for cooked

perseverance: memorizing poetry

I've been creating a new list of heroes through this desert stroll. No famous, pretty, rich or snotty people, but there are a few successful ones. My friend J is on the list. He's waited for 2.5 years to find a pastor job; he wasn't sitting in a basement twiddling his thumbs. He did all this really cool stuff: wrote a book, started an chaplaincy for elderly in a nursing home, began a fitness regime all while being rejected and dealing with a bureaucratic denomination. When I told him he was my hero in all of this, he laughed it off. But, he always offers extremely kind and useful tips (advice) always in the context of a personal anecdote. For instance, he told me he'd adopted Psalm 51:10-12 as his morning prayer. And, I have too. I've added it to my repertoire of Psalm 70:1.

My friend J who has been through an amazingly brutal marriage and divorce being judged by most of her friends because she refused to disclose why they were getting the divorce to prevent her ex-husband being shamed. She's very beautiful but that's not the beauty she cares about. One time J's daughter told her how pretty her preschool teacher was. And J asked, "Why is she so pretty?" Her daughter said, "Because she loves me. She's pretty on the inside... and her shoes."

This is a good time to be meditating on this new hero list because my fifteen high school reunion is fast approaching, and I was deciding whether or not to go being as I am unemployed, single and childless (at least I'm not fat). A veritable failure in the eyes of my 17 year-old self. But I'm realizing I'm developing a new set of standards of evaluating success. Can I go hang out with people that make lots more money, lead glamorous lives, have good-looking, successful husbands and adorable kids and be myself... and have a good time? I will impress myself. God is at work in me after all.

My sister was reporting how successful her prayer life has been recently. So, of course, I told her that she needed to put it to use on my job search. She paused and then told me that she was praying for me to find peace. She said my restlessness was the root of the problem; unemployment a symptom. Yes, she's the shallow one with the MBA. But, it reminded me of a discussion I had with Mandy about paths of sanctification. We're all getting transformed via different routes. Marriage and singleness are different burdens. Being born in the US or Burundi is a different burden. But we're not alone. That's why I like about J's Ps 51 prayer. Implicit is our helplessness and God's grace and love:

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.

the beach

I just got back from a long weekend at the beach with my immediate family. It was relaxing and enjoyable. I'm sunburned and have a huge cut on my forehead, but it's all for a good cause. The weather was gorgeous. People were in a good mood. Water is cathartic. I read about half of Empire Falls. I walked along the beach and the dunes. I love dunes.

Tomorrow I'm going to a friend's funeral. There was a member of the church that thought she was my grandmother (I guess because she always sat with us during the Sunday service). I'm not sad because she's so much better off. But, I will miss her, her keen wit and her confidence in me very much. She's the kind of woman you'd name a daughter after.

Ultimate Hike

While I'm relaxing at the beach this weekend with my family, my former roommate is doing a 25 mile Ultimate Hike to raise money for children's cancer... or children with cancer. I think she's raising 2500 dollars, which she has another month to raise. I think she still needs another $1000. I think that's stressing her out more than the actual hike; she's counting on adrenaline for that. It'll be in the mountains. I think she'll have an amazing time. We shall see.

Let me know if you're interested in sponsoring her, and I'll give you her name. I wish I had more money to give, but time is what I have right now.

Cancer affects everyone. My present roommate had breast cancer. A woman I work with on Alpha has a mom that just found out that it came back in her bones. The mom of one of my best friends is fighting a very aggressive form; here's her Cancer Wars blog. A woman my sister just through a baby shower for a cancer survivor. Four other people spring to mind. And, I'm sure anyone can list people with cancer; I went to a funeral less than a month ago for a cancer victim. It's concrete evil. And, to think little babies die of it, and that it's just as present in countries that don't have our medical technology to deal with it effectively. Kyrie eleison. Go Kristen!!

bread

I really want to make some bread. In the concrete sense (and the metaphorical one too). I think I'm going to try tomorrow. I really like cooking, especially now that I have a decent kitchen to work in. I'll let you know how it goes.

I'm at an impasse at finding a job; I called and sent out over twenty resumes this week and am feeling emotionally drained (as lame as that is). So, I think I'll take a long weekend and come back Monday revived and energized about looking for my dream job. My bible study on Ecclesiastes is timely. There's a time to study Ecclesiastes and a time to study James.

My friend's mom is having a really good day! And, people donated enough money and miles so that her sister can fly home four times to see her family over the next two months; she disengaged the donate button. How cool is that?!? God is good. (This does fit in-- give us our daily bread.)