This has been a busy week.
I did two interviews, got a job, took a drug test (I passed in case you're wondering!) started choir rehearsals at church, dyed my hair, and lost 1 pound...but I think it was just from dehydration.
Whew....I'm tired! A good tired. A satisfied tired. A sleeping-peacefully-from-exhaustion tired.
I have had more adult interaction in the last week than I have had during the last month. It feels great to finally be doing more than managing my home; a job I love, but am a little weary of at this point.
Choir rehearsal was fun. I think that I am going to like it. There were about 60 people there and a fair number of men, which is great because they are often hard to dig up and help balance out the usually numerous female voices.
I chatted with a few women I hadn't met before. Everyone seemed friendly and I can see this as a jumping off point for feeling more cohesively a part of our church, something I have been struggling with for a while.
My boss at the non-profit is very sweet. So, I see no potential problems on that front. Although part of my job is to do presentations in local elementary schools through a form of puppetry called Bunraku. The puppets themselves are different than those you see on Wikipedia, but the style of puppetry is the same as the Japanese form. I will be dressed in black with black gloves, and a black hood covering my head as I manipulate a puppet. I have several scripts to memorize and polish for performance. It's very serious. My boss has done it for years and is incredibly good at it. Totally professional. I'm usually not afraid of performing in front of people, but I have never done this type of performance before.
Just call me the Puppet Ninja--because that's what I'll look like all dressed in black.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Dependable God
YIPPEEE!!!
I have officially been welcomed back into the loving arms of the gainfully employed!
It's really a God thing. About a year ago, when we were trying to figure out how in the world we were going to make it with me still being home, I had inquired about a part-time position with a non-profit organization. It was very appealing and followed the school calender, but was going to be too logistically difficult to make it work with Intuitive Monkey still being at home for part of the day. After speaking with the hiring manager, I intially thought it would work. Thinking more in depth about it, I realized it just wasn't going to work, but maybe it would the next year when both boys were in school. I called back and told her that I was sorry, but that I wouldn't be coming in to apply for the job after all. She said she appreciated the fact that I called her back to let her know as opposed to simply not showing up the next morning as we had discussed.
My much blogged about angst about when and how I would find a job, and whether anybody would ever hire me after being out of the official workforce for so long, had continued to grow and leave me feeling lost. I wanted a part-time job, during school hours, that paid decently, and didn't require me to have to put the boys in day care. That's not asking for much, is it? Obviously, that's what about a bazillion mothers would love to have. Who was I to think that I could manage to pull off such a feat as to have the perfect working/home situation?
Finding such a thing seemed like tossing a bottle into the ocean and returning 1 year later to have it wash up on shore at your feet the instant you approached the water.
Impossible. Preposterous. Wishful Thinking.
Thankfully, I have a Father who knows what I need even before I ever do. He always steps in and reminds me that He hasn't forgotten me. He sets my heart at rest and lets me rely upon Him when I have come to the end of myself.
Two days ago I got a call out of the blue: Do you remember this job? You do? I know we spoke over a year ago, but I saved your information. This position is open again and we are looking for someone. Are you still interested? You are.......well I'd love to see you tomorrow morning and talk with you more.
A couple of interviews, fingerprint screening and one drug test later and I have a job. The perfect job for me. For my family. For this time in my life.
Thanks God!
Matthew 6:31-33
"So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness and all these things will be given to you as well."
I have officially been welcomed back into the loving arms of the gainfully employed!
It's really a God thing. About a year ago, when we were trying to figure out how in the world we were going to make it with me still being home, I had inquired about a part-time position with a non-profit organization. It was very appealing and followed the school calender, but was going to be too logistically difficult to make it work with Intuitive Monkey still being at home for part of the day. After speaking with the hiring manager, I intially thought it would work. Thinking more in depth about it, I realized it just wasn't going to work, but maybe it would the next year when both boys were in school. I called back and told her that I was sorry, but that I wouldn't be coming in to apply for the job after all. She said she appreciated the fact that I called her back to let her know as opposed to simply not showing up the next morning as we had discussed.
My much blogged about angst about when and how I would find a job, and whether anybody would ever hire me after being out of the official workforce for so long, had continued to grow and leave me feeling lost. I wanted a part-time job, during school hours, that paid decently, and didn't require me to have to put the boys in day care. That's not asking for much, is it? Obviously, that's what about a bazillion mothers would love to have. Who was I to think that I could manage to pull off such a feat as to have the perfect working/home situation?
Finding such a thing seemed like tossing a bottle into the ocean and returning 1 year later to have it wash up on shore at your feet the instant you approached the water.
Impossible. Preposterous. Wishful Thinking.
Thankfully, I have a Father who knows what I need even before I ever do. He always steps in and reminds me that He hasn't forgotten me. He sets my heart at rest and lets me rely upon Him when I have come to the end of myself.
Two days ago I got a call out of the blue: Do you remember this job? You do? I know we spoke over a year ago, but I saved your information. This position is open again and we are looking for someone. Are you still interested? You are.......well I'd love to see you tomorrow morning and talk with you more.
A couple of interviews, fingerprint screening and one drug test later and I have a job. The perfect job for me. For my family. For this time in my life.
Thanks God!
Matthew 6:31-33
"So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness and all these things will be given to you as well."
Monday, August 27, 2007
Handwriting On The.....Hand?
I sent The Rationalist into his room to do his homework--writing his spelling words four times each. He kept popping in and out of his room, distracted and not really wanting to focus.
Back and forth, in and out, he went. First, he asked where the pencils were. Two minutes later, did I know where the eraser was? Not long after that, did I remember to look at his fundraising magazines. His mind flitted from one thing to the other as he took his time to do his work
The last time he came out, he noticed something on his hand.
"What's this?" he asked while scrutinizing his palm.
""Who wrote on my hand?!"
"What do you mean?
"There's writing on my hand. I didn't do it!"
I looked at his hand and saw faint pencil marks, making out barely-there letters.
"I think you must have put your hand on your paper. The writing rubbed off on it."
He thought about it for minute while inspecting his hand once more.
"No...I don't think so."......pause....."I think it's a message from God!"
"...a message...from God..."
"Yes!" he giggled and ran back to his room.
Maybe I can get God to tell him to clean up his room and chew with his mouth closed. I think I have a pen around here somewhere.
Back and forth, in and out, he went. First, he asked where the pencils were. Two minutes later, did I know where the eraser was? Not long after that, did I remember to look at his fundraising magazines. His mind flitted from one thing to the other as he took his time to do his work
The last time he came out, he noticed something on his hand.
"What's this?" he asked while scrutinizing his palm.
""Who wrote on my hand?!"
"What do you mean?
"There's writing on my hand. I didn't do it!"
I looked at his hand and saw faint pencil marks, making out barely-there letters.
"I think you must have put your hand on your paper. The writing rubbed off on it."
He thought about it for minute while inspecting his hand once more.
"No...I don't think so."......pause....."I think it's a message from God!"
"...a message...from God..."
"Yes!" he giggled and ran back to his room.
Maybe I can get God to tell him to clean up his room and chew with his mouth closed. I think I have a pen around here somewhere.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Tonight my sister-in-law called to tell me that my mother is in the hospital. She had been getting dizzy spells and had fallen a few times. I called and spoke to her. She reassured me that it wasn't her heart and was probably just vertigo, but who really knows. It seems as if it isn't anything serious at this point.
When I hung up the phone, I was somber. I wasn't worried that she was near death. I knew that she was OK , but I realized that one day a call like that would come and she wouldn't be fine. She's getting older. She has some health issues. She lives in another state.
It makes me wish I were closer. It makes me wish I could fix everything in her life.
For now, I pray for her and tell her I love her. It seems like small comfort, but it's all I can do.
When I hung up the phone, I was somber. I wasn't worried that she was near death. I knew that she was OK , but I realized that one day a call like that would come and she wouldn't be fine. She's getting older. She has some health issues. She lives in another state.
It makes me wish I were closer. It makes me wish I could fix everything in her life.
For now, I pray for her and tell her I love her. It seems like small comfort, but it's all I can do.
Last Call
In the stats aftermath of my posts yesterday(almost 400 hits), I kept returning to this issue of Randy and Paula White, modern Christianity, truth and doubt.
Truth is a tricky thing. It can be a demanding task master, laying bare all the things which we clumsily try to hide.
Trying to figure out exactly what's going through the minds of those who stop by here, isn't really difficult. They want to know what happened. They want to know the details of this story. That may seem like Christian sensationalism and, to be sure, there certainly is that element. But more than anything, people just want to know how to piece things like this together. They want to understand. They want it to make sense. They want to know what to believe.
In some ways, our own Christian principles work against us in these situations. We are not to gossip. We are not to hold grudges. We are to forgive. We are to speak only what is beneficial to others. When a scandal like this occurs, those thoughts rush into our minds and we suppress our urge to understand because it seems impolite and unseemly to probe deeply into someone's personal problems. We put on kid gloves and try to be gracious and compassionate.
We should definitely be gracious, but there is a balance that the church needs to have in dealing with fallen leadership.
What I wish that the Whites and other leaders knew is how desperately people need the truth. So often, in an effort to be diplomatic or not fuel gossip, leaders will make vague statements that don't really lay out what's going on. Sometimes they're being outright manipulative, at others they are simply trying to be cautious. It's the wrong decision to make.
In explanation of their "amicable" divorce, Randy White was quoted as saying that the divorce is 100% his fault. He went on to praise Paula. The article also stated that the divorce was not caused by any third parties, a polite way of saying no one had an affair, but that they their lives had simply started heading in different directions.
That synopsis will not ease the confusion that their congregation and followers will have. Why? Simply, because it doesn't make any sense. There are countless people in America who have divorced because they felt they were no longer in love with each other, or because they drifted apart, but for two Christians who have built an empire trying to lead others, the answer is unsatisfying.
It's unsatisfying because if their statement is true, it shows a very poor understanding of the covenant of marriage before God and the place of honor in which it is held. It's unsatisfying because that excuse just isn't good enough. If nothing dramatic has happened, and no trust violated, then there is no Scripturally valid reason for the divorce.
Their followers will have to make a judgement call about what that means for their pastors, for the teachings they have received, and for how they perceive their relationship with God. Many of them will be overwhelmed by the doubt that they have been duped. It will make them distrust people more easily and be a stumbling block in their faith.
I wish all of you well as you try to piece things together.
(this is my last post on the subject)
Truth is a tricky thing. It can be a demanding task master, laying bare all the things which we clumsily try to hide.
Trying to figure out exactly what's going through the minds of those who stop by here, isn't really difficult. They want to know what happened. They want to know the details of this story. That may seem like Christian sensationalism and, to be sure, there certainly is that element. But more than anything, people just want to know how to piece things like this together. They want to understand. They want it to make sense. They want to know what to believe.
In some ways, our own Christian principles work against us in these situations. We are not to gossip. We are not to hold grudges. We are to forgive. We are to speak only what is beneficial to others. When a scandal like this occurs, those thoughts rush into our minds and we suppress our urge to understand because it seems impolite and unseemly to probe deeply into someone's personal problems. We put on kid gloves and try to be gracious and compassionate.
We should definitely be gracious, but there is a balance that the church needs to have in dealing with fallen leadership.
What I wish that the Whites and other leaders knew is how desperately people need the truth. So often, in an effort to be diplomatic or not fuel gossip, leaders will make vague statements that don't really lay out what's going on. Sometimes they're being outright manipulative, at others they are simply trying to be cautious. It's the wrong decision to make.
In explanation of their "amicable" divorce, Randy White was quoted as saying that the divorce is 100% his fault. He went on to praise Paula. The article also stated that the divorce was not caused by any third parties, a polite way of saying no one had an affair, but that they their lives had simply started heading in different directions.
That synopsis will not ease the confusion that their congregation and followers will have. Why? Simply, because it doesn't make any sense. There are countless people in America who have divorced because they felt they were no longer in love with each other, or because they drifted apart, but for two Christians who have built an empire trying to lead others, the answer is unsatisfying.
It's unsatisfying because if their statement is true, it shows a very poor understanding of the covenant of marriage before God and the place of honor in which it is held. It's unsatisfying because that excuse just isn't good enough. If nothing dramatic has happened, and no trust violated, then there is no Scripturally valid reason for the divorce.
Their followers will have to make a judgement call about what that means for their pastors, for the teachings they have received, and for how they perceive their relationship with God. Many of them will be overwhelmed by the doubt that they have been duped. It will make them distrust people more easily and be a stumbling block in their faith.
I wish all of you well as you try to piece things together.
(this is my last post on the subject)
Friday, August 24, 2007
Surprised
You wouldn't know it from the lack of comments, but this blog has been visited over 50 times today by people looking for information about Randy and Paula White's divorce because of the post I wrote earlier.
I'm not sure what to make of that. Hits from California to New York continue to roll in from personal networks, University networks, Military networks, Government Networks, and they all are looking for the same thing...information about the Whites.
It saddens me as I realize the impact that one couple's divorce evokes from such a wide swath of people--people who looked to them for guidance and direction. I am sure it is shocking to them, as it is when it happens to a couple you know personally. You are left trying to piece together the perceptions you have had with the reality that exists. It's uncomfortable and unpleasant to gaze onto other people's tragedies.
As I think about all of this, I hope and pray that as people mull over the implications of this scandal that instead of disillusionment, God will speak to them. That He will expose what needs to be exposed, build up what needs to be built up, and teach us how to place our faith and assurance in Him alone.
I'm not sure what to make of that. Hits from California to New York continue to roll in from personal networks, University networks, Military networks, Government Networks, and they all are looking for the same thing...information about the Whites.
It saddens me as I realize the impact that one couple's divorce evokes from such a wide swath of people--people who looked to them for guidance and direction. I am sure it is shocking to them, as it is when it happens to a couple you know personally. You are left trying to piece together the perceptions you have had with the reality that exists. It's uncomfortable and unpleasant to gaze onto other people's tragedies.
As I think about all of this, I hope and pray that as people mull over the implications of this scandal that instead of disillusionment, God will speak to them. That He will expose what needs to be exposed, build up what needs to be built up, and teach us how to place our faith and assurance in Him alone.
A Cautionary Tale
The front page of the local paper features an article about Randy and Paula White, pastors of a large, charismatic church in the Tampa Bay area called Without Walls. They announced from their pulpit that they are divorcing "amicably", stating that no third parties are involved on either side, but merely that their lives have begun to take separate paths.
It's troubling on so many levels that I'm not sure where to start. I don't know the Whites, attend Without Walls, or hold to any of their teachings. I can't speak about them personally and don't want to, any more than I would want someone to analyze me from a distance.
What is worrisome is the cause for the split seems to be directly tied to the growth of their separate ministries. Paula White has, over the last several years, built quite a name for herself through websites, speaking engagements, book deals, and other ventures, as has Randy White. They have used the media effectively to gain a wide following and further their private and ministry ventures....and therein lies part of the problem.
The Christian life is not a sound bite. It is not lived for the outer life, but the inner life. There is an intrinsic temptation in media; a temptation to Photoshop personal lives into a glossy 8 x 10 that's been retouched for optimal viewing pleasure. It's a lesson that American culture and American Christianity have yet to learn--TV lies, magazines lie, books lie.
They lie because of money. The truth has never been a best seller. It has to be tweaked, placed in attractive lighting, and given a snappy jingle in order for people to lay out money for it. Behind every spiritual best seller, there is a publisher and an author making a lot of money. That's their job. It's a business to them. They are not motivated by a desire to transform society, but by a desire to earn a paycheck to pay their mortgage.
They lie because we want them to. We want to believe that there is a formula for a successful, fulfilling life that we can apply and implement in order to obtain that perfect life. We buy spiritual snake oil and rub it all over ourselves in an attempt to smooth out the wrinkles, banish the dark spots, and perfume our limbs. But, it's all a lie. We are still just as wrinkly, blemished, and smelly as before...only now, we're greasy too.
They lie because, as Jack Nicholson says in A Few Good Men, "You can't handle the truth!". We are afraid to face the truth about ourselves and the world around us. If there isn't a way to fit everything into a nice little box, how will we cope? How do we persevere in the face of our messy, sometimes unsatisfying lives?
The Whites, and many like them, become popular because of the message they preach; that God wants everyone to be "successful" and to fulfill their "destiny". It's what everyone wants--to be special, to be happy, to be blessed. So now, as these two wealthy, famous (at least in Charismatic circles) people divorce, their lives belie the message they preach. The curtain is pulled back and we see that even they have not realized the dream.
I feel sorry for them. The end of a marriage is always a disheartening, horrible thing.
Yet, in my pity for them personally, I am indignant about them publicly. Each of them plans to continue their ministries. They seem not to grasp the incoherency of the teachings they propagate in the face of their own personal disasters, or the consequences of their actions. If they were "regular" people, with "normal" jobs, they would not be expected to change careers, or bear any fault in that area of their lives, but they are not "regular" people with "normal" jobs. What do they have to offer the throngs who follow them? Their promises have proved empty. Will they continue to hawk those promises? Will Paula continue to be a Life Coach when it is she and her husband who really need one right now? It reminds me of Jesus' quote about the blind leading the blind. A confident leader inspires confident followers; even if the leader is lost, directionless, and headed the wrong way.
Time after time, these scandals occur. They will continue to occur as long as people try to mix the Gospel with money and fame. They don't mix. They never will. They are anti-thetical in nature. To gain money and fame in Christianity, you have to lie. Some do it consciously and with forethought, others do with self-deception and a lack of self-awareness. There is no money in telling people to simply follow Jesus, to store your treasure in Heaven, to rejoice in the face of suffering and persecution for Him. There is no fame in glorifying only God and pointing others to Him, refusing to promote yourself or take credit for His truths.
Jesus is not a salesman. The truth costs nothing. Humility does not linger in the limelight
It's troubling on so many levels that I'm not sure where to start. I don't know the Whites, attend Without Walls, or hold to any of their teachings. I can't speak about them personally and don't want to, any more than I would want someone to analyze me from a distance.
What is worrisome is the cause for the split seems to be directly tied to the growth of their separate ministries. Paula White has, over the last several years, built quite a name for herself through websites, speaking engagements, book deals, and other ventures, as has Randy White. They have used the media effectively to gain a wide following and further their private and ministry ventures....and therein lies part of the problem.
The Christian life is not a sound bite. It is not lived for the outer life, but the inner life. There is an intrinsic temptation in media; a temptation to Photoshop personal lives into a glossy 8 x 10 that's been retouched for optimal viewing pleasure. It's a lesson that American culture and American Christianity have yet to learn--TV lies, magazines lie, books lie.
They lie because of money. The truth has never been a best seller. It has to be tweaked, placed in attractive lighting, and given a snappy jingle in order for people to lay out money for it. Behind every spiritual best seller, there is a publisher and an author making a lot of money. That's their job. It's a business to them. They are not motivated by a desire to transform society, but by a desire to earn a paycheck to pay their mortgage.
They lie because we want them to. We want to believe that there is a formula for a successful, fulfilling life that we can apply and implement in order to obtain that perfect life. We buy spiritual snake oil and rub it all over ourselves in an attempt to smooth out the wrinkles, banish the dark spots, and perfume our limbs. But, it's all a lie. We are still just as wrinkly, blemished, and smelly as before...only now, we're greasy too.
They lie because, as Jack Nicholson says in A Few Good Men, "You can't handle the truth!". We are afraid to face the truth about ourselves and the world around us. If there isn't a way to fit everything into a nice little box, how will we cope? How do we persevere in the face of our messy, sometimes unsatisfying lives?
The Whites, and many like them, become popular because of the message they preach; that God wants everyone to be "successful" and to fulfill their "destiny". It's what everyone wants--to be special, to be happy, to be blessed. So now, as these two wealthy, famous (at least in Charismatic circles) people divorce, their lives belie the message they preach. The curtain is pulled back and we see that even they have not realized the dream.
I feel sorry for them. The end of a marriage is always a disheartening, horrible thing.
Yet, in my pity for them personally, I am indignant about them publicly. Each of them plans to continue their ministries. They seem not to grasp the incoherency of the teachings they propagate in the face of their own personal disasters, or the consequences of their actions. If they were "regular" people, with "normal" jobs, they would not be expected to change careers, or bear any fault in that area of their lives, but they are not "regular" people with "normal" jobs. What do they have to offer the throngs who follow them? Their promises have proved empty. Will they continue to hawk those promises? Will Paula continue to be a Life Coach when it is she and her husband who really need one right now? It reminds me of Jesus' quote about the blind leading the blind. A confident leader inspires confident followers; even if the leader is lost, directionless, and headed the wrong way.
Time after time, these scandals occur. They will continue to occur as long as people try to mix the Gospel with money and fame. They don't mix. They never will. They are anti-thetical in nature. To gain money and fame in Christianity, you have to lie. Some do it consciously and with forethought, others do with self-deception and a lack of self-awareness. There is no money in telling people to simply follow Jesus, to store your treasure in Heaven, to rejoice in the face of suffering and persecution for Him. There is no fame in glorifying only God and pointing others to Him, refusing to promote yourself or take credit for His truths.
Jesus is not a salesman. The truth costs nothing. Humility does not linger in the limelight
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Marriage Advice
For all those singles out there:
"If you find a girl you like, ask her to marry you. But she has to like you too. They won't let you marry her if she doesn't like you. You'll have to go with your second choice."
--The Rationalist, age 7
"If you find a girl you like, ask her to marry you. But she has to like you too. They won't let you marry her if she doesn't like you. You'll have to go with your second choice."
--The Rationalist, age 7
Sad Search Terms
Today someone found my blog through a sad search term: "is alzheimer's a punishment for specific sins".
wow.
I wonder who typed that in. Do they have alzheimer's? Are they regretting portions of their life and trying to assign some meaning to it? Assigning such a terrible fate to themselves as a way to stave off the horror that sometimes bad things happen without a good explanation? How filled with sorrow must they be to ask Google such a question? What lies behind the pleading words of that request? I don't know, but it makes me sad.
If you come back, miscellaneous person that I don't know, here's not just my answer, but THE answer.
NO.
Alzheimer's is not a punishment from God for a specific sin that has been committed.
wow.
I wonder who typed that in. Do they have alzheimer's? Are they regretting portions of their life and trying to assign some meaning to it? Assigning such a terrible fate to themselves as a way to stave off the horror that sometimes bad things happen without a good explanation? How filled with sorrow must they be to ask Google such a question? What lies behind the pleading words of that request? I don't know, but it makes me sad.
If you come back, miscellaneous person that I don't know, here's not just my answer, but THE answer.
NO.
Alzheimer's is not a punishment from God for a specific sin that has been committed.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Simple, Complicated, Sometimes Unanswerable
Internet Monk wrote a post about dying with unconfessed sin, what it means to many Christians, and how the typical person answers questions about it. I left a comment, not specifically about the issue, but in response to his reply about salvation being "by simple faith alone in Jesus Christ alone". I don't disagree with that statement. I do think that the further along one goes in their faith journey, the more one tries to fully understand the "simple" answers to the big questions.
People are uncomfortable with the concept of unconfessed sin partly because some denominations teach that faith plus works is what you gets you through Heaven's gates--saying you believe counts for nothing if you live like a heathen. For others it's a question of reconciling the act of God's work through Jesus' death and resurrection, with verses that warn of God's judgment, making our election sure, and warning about not falling away. Those are uncomfortable verses to read. Throw in a parable about goats and sheep or Jesus telling others they never knew Him, and you have yourself some nice little conundrums to work through.
Of course, there are lots of people and preachers who like to give out the canned, pat answers they learned in Seminary or from the church they attended in junior high in response to someone's heartfelt wondering. That can be very frustrating. It's along the lines of the "just pray more" answer, or the "don't think about it" answer. It may work for a few months, but it will inevitably pop up again as you try to make sense of your own life and the experiences you have in the church and in the world.
Truth has to be felt and understood at the core of your being before you'll ever really be comfortable with it. It has to make sense to us. That doesn't mean that we can reshape God's truth to suit us, but it does mean that we can't rely on someone else's confident answer. We have to earn that confidence ourselves by wrestling through what the Scriptures mean, how we incorporate them into our lives, and the impact it has upon our spirits.
Maybe I'll take a crack at elaborating on some of those things sometime this week.
People are uncomfortable with the concept of unconfessed sin partly because some denominations teach that faith plus works is what you gets you through Heaven's gates--saying you believe counts for nothing if you live like a heathen. For others it's a question of reconciling the act of God's work through Jesus' death and resurrection, with verses that warn of God's judgment, making our election sure, and warning about not falling away. Those are uncomfortable verses to read. Throw in a parable about goats and sheep or Jesus telling others they never knew Him, and you have yourself some nice little conundrums to work through.
Of course, there are lots of people and preachers who like to give out the canned, pat answers they learned in Seminary or from the church they attended in junior high in response to someone's heartfelt wondering. That can be very frustrating. It's along the lines of the "just pray more" answer, or the "don't think about it" answer. It may work for a few months, but it will inevitably pop up again as you try to make sense of your own life and the experiences you have in the church and in the world.
Truth has to be felt and understood at the core of your being before you'll ever really be comfortable with it. It has to make sense to us. That doesn't mean that we can reshape God's truth to suit us, but it does mean that we can't rely on someone else's confident answer. We have to earn that confidence ourselves by wrestling through what the Scriptures mean, how we incorporate them into our lives, and the impact it has upon our spirits.
Maybe I'll take a crack at elaborating on some of those things sometime this week.
Monday, August 20, 2007
The Finish Line
I tossed and turned in the still darkness. 5:30 am, in neon green, glowing in the dark. I closed my eyes and tried for thirty more minutes. 6:00 am. Time to get up.
Shuffling through a drawer in the dark, looking for a pair of shorts and T-shirt, I move quietly. Having found what I'm looking for, I tiptoe out and close the door to the bedroom, dressing in the living room.
The dog squints at me curiously and then lays her head back down on her bed with a snort. It's too early, even for her.
I begin assembling the breakfast I've planned and start the coffee brewing, disturbing the quiet with the gurgling coffee maker. Rinse the blueberries. Combine the pancake mix. Heat the pan. Ponder the importance of the day all the while.
Little feet trip through the house to bathroom. The night light glimmers on a boy who used to be an infant. His tall, slender stature is evidence of the time that has since passed. Countless, diapers changed, fevers nursed, half-eaten meals and hundreds of story books measured and weighed in the growth of a boy...who used to be an infant.
He trips back into his room, closing the door behind him. It's not 6:30 am, yet.
6:30am arrives, heralded by the excited chirping of two boys dressing themselves, making their beds, and leaping from their rooms to the kitchen.
"I knew she was making pancakes!"
"Not just pancakes....blueberry pancakes!"
DH comes out of the bedroom and hugs me, while the boys pile on for good measure.
We eat breakfast, make lunches, chat about what the day will be like, and enjoy the brief morning.
At 7:30 am, we head out to finish the last leg of a seven-year race. We round the bend and reach the finish line. The first day of school for Intuitive Monkey, our youngest.
Shuffling through a drawer in the dark, looking for a pair of shorts and T-shirt, I move quietly. Having found what I'm looking for, I tiptoe out and close the door to the bedroom, dressing in the living room.
The dog squints at me curiously and then lays her head back down on her bed with a snort. It's too early, even for her.
I begin assembling the breakfast I've planned and start the coffee brewing, disturbing the quiet with the gurgling coffee maker. Rinse the blueberries. Combine the pancake mix. Heat the pan. Ponder the importance of the day all the while.
Little feet trip through the house to bathroom. The night light glimmers on a boy who used to be an infant. His tall, slender stature is evidence of the time that has since passed. Countless, diapers changed, fevers nursed, half-eaten meals and hundreds of story books measured and weighed in the growth of a boy...who used to be an infant.
He trips back into his room, closing the door behind him. It's not 6:30 am, yet.
6:30am arrives, heralded by the excited chirping of two boys dressing themselves, making their beds, and leaping from their rooms to the kitchen.
"I knew she was making pancakes!"
"Not just pancakes....blueberry pancakes!"
DH comes out of the bedroom and hugs me, while the boys pile on for good measure.
We eat breakfast, make lunches, chat about what the day will be like, and enjoy the brief morning.
At 7:30 am, we head out to finish the last leg of a seven-year race. We round the bend and reach the finish line. The first day of school for Intuitive Monkey, our youngest.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Blog Envy
Have you ever visited a blog and wondered why it's so popular? Every post will have dozens of comments, the hit counter will display hundreds of thousands of visits, and there will be hundreds of links to it, yet you scratch your head and wonder...."What's so special about this blog?"
It might not be horrible. It might have good posts from time to time. But, the popularity seems greater than the sum of the blog's parts.
I used to feel bad about that. I would wonder why no one would comment on my posts. Was I doing something wrong? Was I so boring that merely glancing at my blog induced a coma in my potential readership? Was I a legend in my own mind?
Feeling like the high school freshman not invited to the party, I would suck it up and remind myself that I didn't really care about whether or not I was popular. That was fine for a while, though I still wondered about my viability as a blogger. Some bloggers seemed to have a knack for building traffic. They were incredible writers and very skilled at getting their points across and "branding" themselves. I definitely didn't view myself as being on the same plane. But what about those other bloggers?
I realized a few things.
Some blogs with lots of comments are relying on the visits of family and friends. After a few posts, it becomes obvious that many of the comments are back and forth conversations between old friends...not that there's anything wrong with that. It did, however, change my perspective about the numerical count of comments. Take away previous friendships and how many commenters would that particular blog have?
Other blogs rely on the tried and true method of the controversial post. If it's a mommy blog the title will read, "Are Working Mothers The Devil's Spawn?" Political blogs--"Bush's Hot Air Contributes to Global Warming!" Religious blogs--"Why Jesus Hates Those Other People." Crackpots, trolls and anyone with an axe to grind will be sure to show up to comment vociferously on these topics, which in turn will lead others to try and reason with them. Bingo! That post will have at least 50 comments.
Of course, an easy way to get comments is to stay slightly superficial and post things that everybody agrees with. "Hitler Was A Pig!", "Injustice Blows!", "Abusing Animals Is Sick!"; posts like these lead to the inevitable "great post!" comment. Everyone falls all over themselves to say how incredible you are for addressing such a timely topic.
The most valid way to have a prominent blog is to craft a very specialized, focused topic. Post after post about underwater basket weaving, or sumo wrestling, will build your relevant search results transforming your blog into the first stop for many web surfers.
After realizing that 80% of popular blogs fall into these categories, I don't feel quite as bad when my stats are low and my commenters are nonexistent. I know that I haven't stooped to posting articles about Britney Spears just to steer a few wayward surfers my way. I know that I don't want to resort to mud-slinging just to get a conversation going. I know that at least I can count on my husband to comment...he's a captive audience.
Don't feel bad if your blog isn't "successful". I still have a long way to go with mine and am hoping to one day have the time to improve on it and draw commenters who want to stop by.
I've had a few this week, and let me just say--Thank You!
It might not be horrible. It might have good posts from time to time. But, the popularity seems greater than the sum of the blog's parts.
I used to feel bad about that. I would wonder why no one would comment on my posts. Was I doing something wrong? Was I so boring that merely glancing at my blog induced a coma in my potential readership? Was I a legend in my own mind?
Feeling like the high school freshman not invited to the party, I would suck it up and remind myself that I didn't really care about whether or not I was popular. That was fine for a while, though I still wondered about my viability as a blogger. Some bloggers seemed to have a knack for building traffic. They were incredible writers and very skilled at getting their points across and "branding" themselves. I definitely didn't view myself as being on the same plane. But what about those other bloggers?
I realized a few things.
Some blogs with lots of comments are relying on the visits of family and friends. After a few posts, it becomes obvious that many of the comments are back and forth conversations between old friends...not that there's anything wrong with that. It did, however, change my perspective about the numerical count of comments. Take away previous friendships and how many commenters would that particular blog have?
Other blogs rely on the tried and true method of the controversial post. If it's a mommy blog the title will read, "Are Working Mothers The Devil's Spawn?" Political blogs--"Bush's Hot Air Contributes to Global Warming!" Religious blogs--"Why Jesus Hates Those Other People." Crackpots, trolls and anyone with an axe to grind will be sure to show up to comment vociferously on these topics, which in turn will lead others to try and reason with them. Bingo! That post will have at least 50 comments.
Of course, an easy way to get comments is to stay slightly superficial and post things that everybody agrees with. "Hitler Was A Pig!", "Injustice Blows!", "Abusing Animals Is Sick!"; posts like these lead to the inevitable "great post!" comment. Everyone falls all over themselves to say how incredible you are for addressing such a timely topic.
The most valid way to have a prominent blog is to craft a very specialized, focused topic. Post after post about underwater basket weaving, or sumo wrestling, will build your relevant search results transforming your blog into the first stop for many web surfers.
After realizing that 80% of popular blogs fall into these categories, I don't feel quite as bad when my stats are low and my commenters are nonexistent. I know that I haven't stooped to posting articles about Britney Spears just to steer a few wayward surfers my way. I know that I don't want to resort to mud-slinging just to get a conversation going. I know that at least I can count on my husband to comment...he's a captive audience.
Don't feel bad if your blog isn't "successful". I still have a long way to go with mine and am hoping to one day have the time to improve on it and draw commenters who want to stop by.
I've had a few this week, and let me just say--Thank You!
Morality Lesson for the Low, Low Cost of Only $120.50
Sunday, 10:45am, heading home from church, somewhere in Florida
"Oh no! I forgot to go to the bank to deposit this check!"
"That's OK. Turn right at the stoplight; it will take you to Elm Street. That's right where the bank is."
"This light?"
"Yeah."
driving.
"OK...which street is the right one?"
"The next one.....although, I think it might be a right turn only. I'm not sure"
We slowly approach Elm Street and discover that it is, indeed, a right-turn only. We look around. The tiny side street is deserted. Not a car in sight. The bank entrance is only 100 feet away. My husband and I exchange a silent glance.
"I don't see anybody, do you?"
"Nope."
DH turns left, ignoring the Right Turn Only sign, and drives into the bank's parking lot, pulling up to the ATM machine.
"Hey, that sign said Right Turn Only. You can't do that Papa," says the Rationalist.
We mumble over the objection.
As I fumble in the glove box for a deposit envelope, a loudspeaker announces, "PLEASE PULL AHEAD."
There, behind us, is a cop car, blue lights flashing away. DH and I look at each other and groan as DH pulls up to an empty area in the parking lot. The crunching gravel underneath the police officer's boot alerts us to his presence.
"Do you know why I pulled you over?"
"For making a left turn?" asks DH.
"Yep. That's right. License and registration please."
DH hands it over silently and the police officer goes back to his car to fill out a ticket form.
"See, I told you, you can't make a left there!" says The Rationalist.
"Be quiet. We'll talk about this when we get home."
The police officer appears once again.
"OK. This ticket needs to be paid in 30 days. You can contest it or take traffic school. If you do not take traffic school, you will have 3 points on your license...understand?"
"Yes, officer."
"OK....have a nice day.".....um...sure...absolutely great day.
"What's 3 points mean?" asks Intuitive Monkey.
"What do you have to do in thirty days?" asks The Rationalist.
Wide-eyed and full of awe, Intuitive Monkey asks, "How did he know?", sure that the officer must be in direct contact with God.
"Oh no! I forgot to go to the bank to deposit this check!"
"That's OK. Turn right at the stoplight; it will take you to Elm Street. That's right where the bank is."
"This light?"
"Yeah."
driving.
"OK...which street is the right one?"
"The next one.....although, I think it might be a right turn only. I'm not sure"
We slowly approach Elm Street and discover that it is, indeed, a right-turn only. We look around. The tiny side street is deserted. Not a car in sight. The bank entrance is only 100 feet away. My husband and I exchange a silent glance.
"I don't see anybody, do you?"
"Nope."
DH turns left, ignoring the Right Turn Only sign, and drives into the bank's parking lot, pulling up to the ATM machine.
"Hey, that sign said Right Turn Only. You can't do that Papa," says the Rationalist.
We mumble over the objection.
As I fumble in the glove box for a deposit envelope, a loudspeaker announces, "PLEASE PULL AHEAD."
There, behind us, is a cop car, blue lights flashing away. DH and I look at each other and groan as DH pulls up to an empty area in the parking lot. The crunching gravel underneath the police officer's boot alerts us to his presence.
"Do you know why I pulled you over?"
"For making a left turn?" asks DH.
"Yep. That's right. License and registration please."
DH hands it over silently and the police officer goes back to his car to fill out a ticket form.
"See, I told you, you can't make a left there!" says The Rationalist.
"Be quiet. We'll talk about this when we get home."
The police officer appears once again.
"OK. This ticket needs to be paid in 30 days. You can contest it or take traffic school. If you do not take traffic school, you will have 3 points on your license...understand?"
"Yes, officer."
"OK....have a nice day.".....um...sure...absolutely great day.
"What's 3 points mean?" asks Intuitive Monkey.
"What do you have to do in thirty days?" asks The Rationalist.
Wide-eyed and full of awe, Intuitive Monkey asks, "How did he know?", sure that the officer must be in direct contact with God.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Anonymity
I blog anonymously.
My husband is the only person, from my personal life, who knows of and/or reads my blog. Initially, I didn't even tell him about it. I didn't try to hide it or pretend I was shopping online for hours on end; I just kept it to myself. However, keeping that type of thing secret requires more time, effort, and emotional investment than I wanted to give. So, I made the big reveal. The only qualification was that he was not allowed to tell anybody else about it. EVER.
Once, about five years ago, I wrote a letter to the editor of our local paper...a very large paper with a wide circulation. It was my first and last letter to the editor. I was pleased that they had deigned to print my words and I even saved a copy of it, though that seems very silly to me now. That was enough self-satisfaction for me, to see my name in the paper....by choice, not because I was arrested, part of a pyramid scheme, or had died from some horribly freakish accident worthy of YouTube.
The day my letter was printed was like any other...that is until my husband came home. He walked through the door, and I showed him my meager newspaper clipping with my name at the bottom of it. He smiled, said he was proud of me--which is funny, because it was a letter to the editor, not the Declaration of Independence, but he's sweet like that---then proceeded to tell me how he had sent an e-mail to everyone in his address book along with the text of my letter.
I think I had a mini-stroke. I distinctly remember my heart stopping and all the blood draining from my face.
"You did WHAT!!" I said calmly, while reaching out to strangle him.
"What? It was a good letter. I was proud of you and wanted everyone to know about it," he said, while I chased him with a butter knife.
"I can't believe you did that! Why didn't you ask me first?!! Oh my gosh, that is so embarrassing! Are you trying to kill me with humiliation?" I asked in a reasonable fashion while throwing shoes in his general direction.
Of course, to someone who doesn't know me, there seems to be some cognitive dissonance here. I willingly sent a letter to a large paper with my full name at the bottom of it, and here I was upset that he had told more people about it. I wanted everybody to know my name, didn't I?
Not really.
The truth is that I wanted to express something that I felt was in need of being pointed out. I had a desire to make a point, not a name for myself. I also knew that despite much of our immediate family living in Florida, they were all far enough away that they would never see the paper in which my letter was printed....and I had no plans to tell them about it. Because that's how I am.
I don't want to have to answer questions posed by relatives who are not really interested in my religious, political, and social ideas. I don't want to have to cringe at a family reunion if I think something I wrote might have upset someone. Upsetting strangers...no problem...upsetting my mother, brothers, or in-laws.....HUGE problem.
So, I set up my little corner here in cyberspace under the strict guidelines that nobody I know, will ever know about it. Even so, I always keep in my mind that there is a 29,855,211 to 1 chance that I could be found out one day.....which is why I don't have gossipy, tell-all stories on my blog. There is a way that someone could find me, but they would have to already know what they were looking for to figure it out.
Part of my anonymity lies in not wanting to rock the boat in my personal life, but the largest portion is due to my behind-the-scenes nature. I am not afraid to speak out or be in front of people. I do, however, hate to be unduly scrutinized. Armchair analyzation is not for me.
We own two cars; one is a shiny, bright blue, convertible Miata, the other a silver/gray Corolla. One is flashy, fun, and zippy; the other is nondescript, cookie-cutter, and completely boring. That's the one I like to drive. I want to blend into traffic, not turn heads and be stared at while waiting for a light to change. Shiny convertibles attract attention; gray Corollas disappear into the background....which is just how I like it. In the background you can be who you are and want to be without having to justify every little thing you do. You can make more U-turns, just barely make it through the yellow light before it turns red, and speed a little faster...all without being noticed. It's great.
Shiny convertibles will get you ticketed every time.
Who needs that?
My husband is the only person, from my personal life, who knows of and/or reads my blog. Initially, I didn't even tell him about it. I didn't try to hide it or pretend I was shopping online for hours on end; I just kept it to myself. However, keeping that type of thing secret requires more time, effort, and emotional investment than I wanted to give. So, I made the big reveal. The only qualification was that he was not allowed to tell anybody else about it. EVER.
Once, about five years ago, I wrote a letter to the editor of our local paper...a very large paper with a wide circulation. It was my first and last letter to the editor. I was pleased that they had deigned to print my words and I even saved a copy of it, though that seems very silly to me now. That was enough self-satisfaction for me, to see my name in the paper....by choice, not because I was arrested, part of a pyramid scheme, or had died from some horribly freakish accident worthy of YouTube.
The day my letter was printed was like any other...that is until my husband came home. He walked through the door, and I showed him my meager newspaper clipping with my name at the bottom of it. He smiled, said he was proud of me--which is funny, because it was a letter to the editor, not the Declaration of Independence, but he's sweet like that---then proceeded to tell me how he had sent an e-mail to everyone in his address book along with the text of my letter.
I think I had a mini-stroke. I distinctly remember my heart stopping and all the blood draining from my face.
"You did WHAT!!" I said calmly, while reaching out to strangle him.
"What? It was a good letter. I was proud of you and wanted everyone to know about it," he said, while I chased him with a butter knife.
"I can't believe you did that! Why didn't you ask me first?!! Oh my gosh, that is so embarrassing! Are you trying to kill me with humiliation?" I asked in a reasonable fashion while throwing shoes in his general direction.
Of course, to someone who doesn't know me, there seems to be some cognitive dissonance here. I willingly sent a letter to a large paper with my full name at the bottom of it, and here I was upset that he had told more people about it. I wanted everybody to know my name, didn't I?
Not really.
The truth is that I wanted to express something that I felt was in need of being pointed out. I had a desire to make a point, not a name for myself. I also knew that despite much of our immediate family living in Florida, they were all far enough away that they would never see the paper in which my letter was printed....and I had no plans to tell them about it. Because that's how I am.
I don't want to have to answer questions posed by relatives who are not really interested in my religious, political, and social ideas. I don't want to have to cringe at a family reunion if I think something I wrote might have upset someone. Upsetting strangers...no problem...upsetting my mother, brothers, or in-laws.....HUGE problem.
So, I set up my little corner here in cyberspace under the strict guidelines that nobody I know, will ever know about it. Even so, I always keep in my mind that there is a 29,855,211 to 1 chance that I could be found out one day.....which is why I don't have gossipy, tell-all stories on my blog. There is a way that someone could find me, but they would have to already know what they were looking for to figure it out.
Part of my anonymity lies in not wanting to rock the boat in my personal life, but the largest portion is due to my behind-the-scenes nature. I am not afraid to speak out or be in front of people. I do, however, hate to be unduly scrutinized. Armchair analyzation is not for me.
We own two cars; one is a shiny, bright blue, convertible Miata, the other a silver/gray Corolla. One is flashy, fun, and zippy; the other is nondescript, cookie-cutter, and completely boring. That's the one I like to drive. I want to blend into traffic, not turn heads and be stared at while waiting for a light to change. Shiny convertibles attract attention; gray Corollas disappear into the background....which is just how I like it. In the background you can be who you are and want to be without having to justify every little thing you do. You can make more U-turns, just barely make it through the yellow light before it turns red, and speed a little faster...all without being noticed. It's great.
Shiny convertibles will get you ticketed every time.
Who needs that?
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