The Stupid Tax

Here I sit on the eve of my 35th birthday and am apparently no wiser for my efforts. I was home Friday morning perusing my calendar when I came upon Thursday, May 24th. I couldn't help but notice an entry made there about 2 months ago regarding a worship gathering of Presbyterian pastors at MBCC that I have committed to lead at 7 PM. Sounds good, you say. Yes, it does. However, there is a tiny hiccup: I am flying home to visit my babies for Memorial Day weekend and it seems as though I booked my flight for Thursday, May 24th at 3:30 PM. See the difficulty? With great trepidation I called the airline and pleaded with the lovely woman who was working a night shift in India, but she would not be persuaded. I must pay an additional $150 to change the ticket. That, my friends, is a stupid tax.

I said the words "I Do" in a church...

for the first and hopefully last time.

Last Sunday two other fine individuals and myself became members of Mission Bay Community Church and apparently, part of that process is to answer these questions about what we believe. I knew we were supposed to answer questions about what we believe, basic doctrinal stuff, but that's it. We get up there and Bruce tells us that we have to answer the question by saying "I Do." I had a minor internal freak out. This was followed by a week of nightmares of being railroaded into getting married to various people to help them get their green cards. Seriously.

My commitment phobia is monumental and my cluelessness regarding relationships is legengary. I have a recurring nightmare that my high school boyfriend shows up in the present day and announces that we are going to get married. He's a nice guy and all, but the reason we broke up was that he was older and wanted to get married when I graduated high school (HIGH SCHOOL) and I wanted to go to college (silly me). The dream is that after his arrival all of my circles, friends and family, are swept up into the frenzy of wedding planning and no one listens to my protests. I keep telling people that I don't want to do this and they just keep patting me on the arm and assuring me that it's all going to work out fine. There's one part of it where I'm following this guy around and in frustration trying to reinforce the fact that this is a bad idea b/c we don't know each other anymore and I am quizzing him on the last 17 years of my life to prove my point and he just ignores me.

If any of my readers feel the urge to share some pro-marriage platitudes or any "when you stop looking" stories, resist. This is really just a state-of-the-union post, not seeking any help or advice.

Things I Love Right Now

1. My NEW SHOES.

I accendentally bought these last night at Aliana. LOVE THEM!! I have been looking at them for weeks now and wanting them. I was going to order them from Piperlime because they were on sale there (and to support the team), but they ran out of my size. When I went into Aliana, they had them, but they were still full price. When I told them that they were on sale elsewhere, she knocked the price down much closer to Piperlime's sale price, so I went for it. How cute are these?

2. Laurell

Those who know me will find this ironical (that was on purpose, for those who don't know me), but Laurell is a fantastic singer/worship leader person from Canada. In my soul, I am Canadian, so my love for another Canadian will not be a shock. What will be a shock, however, is the fact that she was a contestant on Canadian Idol, and yet I'm willing to love her. We'll all get over that, I'm sure. She may be coming through the Bay Area in July, so keep an eye out, b/c I'm going to be trying to get her in to some local venues. Go to her website and you can listen to her two latest albums (one pop, one worship) for free. You'll definintely want to buy them. Track 2 - Dream, is my favorite.

3. Trader Joe's Finds

a. Trader Joe's Salted Old Fashioned Blister Peanuts.

According to the package: Generations ago folks soaked peanuts in water to remove the red skins prior to roasting. This caused the peanuts to "blister" during roasting, resulting in an incomparable crunch.

Who knew? Whatever the process, these things are delish, and they represent my only level of participation in baseball season.

b. Double Rainbow Soy Cream Very Cherry Chip

Another Trader Joe's find - don't judge until you taste! I'm not a fan of soy substitutions in general, but damn - this stuff is good. Huge chunks of actual cherries and semi-sweet chocolate chunks. I would lodge one important complaint, and that is that the chocolate is a bit crumbly, but otherwise - quite the tasty treat.

c. Cinamon Raisin Swirl Bread

Sweet fancy Moses! There are no words in the English language to describe the wonder of this bread. You have to taste it for yourself. Toast it up with a little bit of butter and you're in heaven. I'm told it makes a marvelous french toast as well, but I haven't tried it yet. I'm sure it would be divine.

Peep show

The madness continues. The Washington Post conducted a Peeps Diorama contest, thinking they might get a few entries for laughs. They got 350, from all over the world, and the finalists are brilliant. The creativity of humanity is always inspiring.

Easter Happiness

Happy Easter, everyone!

Thoughts on the Mandatum

Last night we had our Maundy Thursday service and finally my internal scurrying was brought to a screeching halt. Better late than never, I suppose. As a community, we read the following Mandatum poem and then the questions following are courtesy the RevGalBlogPals blog.

Had I been present at the last supper, I would have joined Peter in protest of having my feet washed by the Master. As a frequenter of the nail salon, I have my feet maintained by others in real life on a regular basis. However, I'm paying them, and it's not necessarly of spiritual significance. I just can't stand having my toes look nasty. The bigger idea of the foot-washing concept is that of receiving. Allowing others to bless us is part of what makes us the church. We use our gifts to bless, but we also allow others to bless and be blessed by giving them opportunities to minister to us. Sounds like I know what I'm talking about, yes? Not so, says the Type A Control Freak.

I'm not so much with the receiving. I hate being the recipient of attention, compliments, gifts, and ESPECIALLY surprises of any kind. Hate. It. There's a real relinquishing of power and even sometimes dignity involved in allowing oneself to be served, and I'm not a fan. I do a lot of the serving and I'm great with that, but I recognize the lack of balance. So, I'm taking this Easter Triduum time to focus on allowing my feet to be washed (metaphorically) and on Jesus as the sacrificial lamb, not me.

Mandatum
Jesus, I would like you to wash my feet
I’ve come a long distance to ask you this
Although I’ve frequently gone from my house to yours
With my boxes of fragrant ointments and my tears
Sincerely believing that this was the best I could offer you
That it was my love which mattered
I was eager, but I didn’t know much about discipleship
Or the true nature of love, and you, always gentle
Never told me I was wrong, but patiently waited
For me to grow in understanding
It has taken a long time, Lord,
But now I fling open the door to my house
And invite you in to cleanse my feet
Of the dust of many wanderings
I will not feel shame to have you kneel before me,
But will gladly receive the mastery of your love
For in receiving I learn the truth of giving
And I become your servant in being served
Lord Jesus, please I would like you to wash my feet.

How do we love the Jesus within ourselves and in others this week?

Have you let Jesus wash your feet? If not will you?

Try taking some time away to think of your love of Jesus, Jesus love for you, and your love for others.

Try not to be the sacrificial lamb this season, instead remember who is the sacrificial lamb.

Random thoughts brought on by pop culture

I get to drive to and from work every day down the Great Highway. Gorgeous. Tonight I was coming home a bit later than usual b/c I had stopped to buy groceries and the sun was setting over the ocean and the sky was all pink and orange, waves crashing on the rocks, etc. I live in the best place on the planet. As I was watching the ocean this morning I was thinking about a book I just read - The Life of Pi by Yann Martel. I recommend - an excellent read, beautifully written. It's about a boy who grew up in India where his family ran the local zoo and his own spiritual journey and his life amongst the animals. When Pi is a teenager his family decides to move to Toronto and they board a ship with their animals, who will be taken to other zoos in North America. Along the way, the ship sinks and Pi is stranded on a lifeboat with a bengal tiger. The majority of the book chronicles his time at sea as he struggles to survive until he is rescued. What I was thinking about this morning was the corrosive effect of the ocean - it's beautiful to watch, but if you're not designed to live in it, it can severely damage and even kill you.

I watched The Prestige the other night. Excellent flick. I had that and The Illusionist at the same time - last year's magician movies. I am told that The Illusionist is better, so I saved it for later. I have to say, though, that I did enjoy the Prestige. Obsessive vengeance is an interesting and blinding thing. I can't imagine spending my whole life trying to see to the downfall of another person. Seems like such a waste.

Tomorrow morning I have a meeting at The Mother Ship aka Corporate Behemoth Headquarters downtown. Such an interesting world, this corporate thing. The sheer volume of acronyms boggles the mind. The bureaucracy is mind-blowing.

Here's something else I'm watching right now, and I can't figure out why. SoapNet is re-running Another World from 1991. I started watching Another World in 1984 during the summer and was hooked. Of course, I wasn't allowed to watch soap operas, but that never stopped me. I was so excited when I discovered the re-runs and I've been watching it ever day for weeks now, and I have to say, it's awful. The sets are so janky, the acting is wooden (except for Anne Heche, of course) and plots are thin as tissue paper. I really like the cheesy synth music behind the crazy people - just to let us know how creepy they are. Hilarious. It's just nostalgic and funny. I love it.

Fine (pronounced fee-nay - going for an Italian musical thing here - go with it)

It seems as though I've given up Choir for Lent, although it's starting now and ending this summer. I wonder if that counts. I've been thinking and I'm just stretched so thin that something's got to give. I have started two jobs at once (big Corporate America job and part-time church job), both with steep learning curves and both with (no disrespect intended) prececessors with slightly different organizational systems than I would consider helpful.

Choir is like going to the gym for my voice. It's really good for me. The conductor, who was one of my seminary professors, is amazingly good. Forget music, anyone who wants to be a leader in any field should sit in on one of his rehearsals. He's got the gift. He's structured without being inflexible, strict, but manages to do so while remaining warm and is rarely stern, and is extremely encouraging. He does that thing where he shows you some musical thing that you think is impossible and then he takes you through some seemingly un-related vocalise and by some miracle you are then able to effortlessly perform what once seemed out of your grasp. He's got the most well-equipped teachers "toolbox" ever - an exercise, tip or trick for any occasion. (I'm speaking about him as though he's died. He hasn't - I'm just singing his praises because I think people's praises should be sung before they die).

And here I am giving all that up for a few months. I have every intention of going back in the fall. I know I have to do this right now for my own good, but I am still a bit sad about it. As I said on another blog, choir is the icing on the cake that is my life, but right now, the cake is all crumbly, so the icing is just making a bigger mess. I want to be able to go back and be fully present, because that is how anything is done well.

A Prayer for Holy Week

Lord Jesus Christ,
in this sacred and solemn week
when we see again
the depth and mystery of your redeeming love,
help us to follow where you go,
to stop where you stumble,
to listen when you cry,
to hurt as you suffer,
to bow our heads in sorrow as you die,
so that, when you are raised to life again,
we may share in your endless joy. Amen.

Corporate Catastrof*%k

Ok - pardon my French, but this situation warrants the strength of such language. I realize the level of inappropriateness - bear with me.

In the interest of keeping my job with the giant corporate behemoth, I will speak in broad generalities, but suffice it to say, the transition to the new job has not been completely smooth. It's been great as far as the actual folks I work for and the job responsibilities. There have just been tons of issues with IT and payroll, the payroll one being the worst of it. Suffice it to say there have been all kinds of company and bank-related headaches, which has left me without access to my own money until next Tuesday. I want to scream.

Things That Make Me Die Inside, Vol. 1

One of my favorite blogs to read is the PopWatch blog on www.ew.com. There is a regular segment that their writers have called "Things That Make Me Die Inside," and I read something today that made me want to make that one of my regular features.

In my job, I deal with the property management, documentation, leases, etc. of all of our stores and corporate facilities. I'm going through and documenting some changes in landlord information and have come across a mall in upstate New York called "Walt Whitman Mall." Now, I've read Walden, and I'm going to guess that based upon my interpretation of that, this is not what he would have wanted. We all know that I'm not opposed to the occasional shopping trip, but seriously - a mall named after Walt Whitman? Really?

My Baby is growing up!

My baby neice Chloe turned 3 yesterday. Three. Years. Old. I can't believe she's 3. I remember the night she was born. My mom kept me posted from the hospital, but the part that meant the most to me was that my brother specifically asked that he be the one to call me when she was born. I love that because those are the moments when I realize that my brother and I are close. We are different in a lot of ways and we don't always agree, but we have great conversations, we value each other and get along well. He is a great dad - Lisa is a great mom. Together, they are great parents.

Chloe is a kid who comes honestly by the need for a lot of structure and doesn't love changes to her schedule. Not that there's anything wrong with that. That's just who she is. So, Todd and Lisa, again being good parents, get that about her and work within that, and have been preparing her for months that when she turns three, she gets the crib parts off her bed and will now have a "big girl" bed. So, here's a picture of her on her big girl bed, showing us that she's three. While cute, I find the way that Ian is splayed out in a turtle-turned-over sort of way to be freaking hilarious! Love my babies.

Obituary

The Rev. Dr. Paul G. Hiebert, missiologist and missionary to India, has died of cancer on March 11, 2007 at the age of 74. After six years of service as a missionary under the Mennonite Brethren Board of Missions, Hiebert earned a doctoral degree in cultural anthropology, and taught for some years in secular universities. Subsequently, he taught missions and anthropology at Fuller Seminary in Pasadena, California (1977-1990) and at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in Highland Park, Illinois (1990-2007).
A prolific writer, Hiebert has published more than 150 articles and 10 books. His colleagues will remember him for his efforts to bring the insights and skills of anthropology to the theory and practice of Christian mission, and for his contribution to the critical realist approach to epistemology. His students will remember him for his generosity, and for his care and concern for them as people.
Hiebert was a loving husband, father and grandfather. His wife, Frances Flaming Hiebert, died in 1999. His parents, also missionaries to India, were John Nicholas Christian Hiebert and Anna Jungas Hiebert. He is survived by his sisters, Phyllis Martens, Elizabeth Dahl, Gwendolyn Schroth, JoAnne Sorensen, Margaret Hiebert, and Loey Knapp; his three children and their spouses, Eloise and Michael Meneses, Barbara and Bryan Rowe, and John and Jane Hiebert-White; and by his grandchildren, Bria Hiebert-Crape and Dan Aulisio, Holly and David Metzler, Andrew Meneses, Mary and Nicholas Hiebert-White.
His family will remember him for the following things among many others: playing rough and tumble with kids, enjoying family camping, celebrating all events at Chinese restaurants, happily eating hot curry till dripping with sweat, traveling so much he could hardly be found (‘Where’s Dad?’), doodling on styrofoam cups, being an honorary member of his sisters’ Red Hat Society, and faithfully having family devotions.


In Loving Memory
Paul G. Hiebert

Working for The Man

My parents slay me. I got a message from them today saying good luck on my first day of "school" tomorrow and not to forget my lunch box and play nice with the other kids.

Rather appropriately, I listened to Nancy Ortberg's Sermon on Jesus and Work tonight and it is brilliant - stop what you're doing and listen to it now! She speaks on the idea that work is about creating value and about reflecting God's values to those around us. Loved it. One of my favorite moments is when she makes a reference to putting cover sheets on TPS reports and no one in the audience gets it. Classic!

Legacies

I've been thinking about the idea of legacies lately for a couple of reasons. First of all, I have a dear uncle who is in the process of transitioning from death into life as he deals with mesothelioma, a rare form of lung cancer caused by asbestos exposure. Second, I have had some really great moments with my own family over the last couple of months as they have supported me through my time of job searching and subsequent employment.

My uncle is an anthropologist and he was having a conversation with my father a week or so ago and was talking about the importance of the bond between grandparents and grandchildren. He believes that children are half persons because they are not yet fully formed. Young adults and those adults who have not yet reached retirement age are whole people because of their identities, lives, schedules, careers, relationships, etc. As adults become older they become half persons again as they move back into a place of dependence. Therefore, according to his theory, the bond between grandparents and grandchildren is very strong because they are completing one another (not in the Jerry Maguire sense). I'm sure he said it in a much more eloquent and inspiring way, but I still think it's a beautiful thought.

When he was diagnosed with this illness, he sat down with each of his grandchildren individually and slowly went through all the family albums and Paul, my uncle, spoke with each of them about their family heritage, what their grandparents had done for the sake of Christ, what their parents had done, etc. Then, he passed the mantle to each of them, telling them that now it was their turn. Anyone familiar with my uncle's work knows that he's big into ritual and this I think is a beautiful one.

Regarding my immediate family, our relationship just continues to improve over time. We are learning to honor one another as the years pass and we're all learning how much better it is to be happy than to be right. While I was looking for a job, they were so great, always encouraging, praying, helping out if necessary. When I was at a particularly discouraged place, my mom called to ask how I was and in a genuine attempt to encourage me, she spoke to me of God having a plan, etc. I have no doubt of her motives, but I was not in a place to receive it, and I kind of went off at her. It wasn't directed toward her, per se, and I think she knows that. I told her that I knew God was acting, but I needed to see it because I was very discouraged. She did a good job of talking me down off the ledge.

My dad called me later to talk about how he had decided that he was going to start memorizing scripture. He never thought he was capable of that because he is dyslexic, but he said he was going to do it. He started with Psalm 40:1 - 3, which reads:

1 I waited patiently for the LORD to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry.
2 He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.
3 He has given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see what he has done and be astounded. They will put their trust in the LORD.

He recited them to me and said he believed he'd been led to them for a reason. Over the following weeks, those verses have been very handy for him as he's ministered to people in his circle.

Later that evening, my phone rang and I saw that it was my dad. I picked it up, said, "Hi, Dad." And he said, "Let's pray." And he prayed a beautiful, strong prayer, truly as a father on behalf of his daughter, asking for God to act on my behalf. It was truly one of the most meaningful interactions we've ever had.

In addition to my father and my uncle, my family is full of legacies of ministry going back generations. My great-grandfather went to Washington to fight for the rights of Conscientious Objectors in times of war. My aunt is an Episcopalian priest (or is is Episcopal - I never get that right) serving in a hospital in Chicago. Cousins are church musicians, pastors, and many have served in overseas missions. Both my physical and spiritual DNA wire me for ministry and I am so proud and honored to have such a rich history serving Christ and I hope in my own life that I can do it justice.

I begin wtih a question - Christian Nation: What the hell does that mean?

Maybe not the most appropriate question, but a question nonetheless. I ask because we are in the throes of the holiday season (I said holiday on purpose - more in a moment). I was having the "holiday" conversation with my parents over Thanksgiving when my dad started to do his religious right happy dance (love my dad, we get along, just don't agree at every point) that Target and Wal-Mart are boldly proclaiming Merry Christmas instead of the more tolerant "Happy Holidays."

It's an interesting pickle the RR (Religious Right) puts themselves in when they want to be defined as strict-constructionists and keep government out of their religious doings, and yet believe that said government should give preferential treatment to their faith. Not from a legal standpoint, mind you - purely a decorative one. Doesn't it stand to reason that if one believes strongly in the concepts behind the founding documents of our country, that same person would in fact be opposed to the display of any religious symbol on governement property, like, oh, a NATIVITY.

So, then, why is there some sense of triumph when the hated "Happy Holidays" is sent packing in favor of "Merry Christmas"? Here's why I'm ok with Happy Holidays:

1. We start saying it pre-Thanksgiving, during a time period that covers several holidays, even if you are strictly a Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Year celebrator - it's just easier

2. As our country was founded to give freedom to all religious expression, lo and behold, if we don't have people here who celebrate holidays other than Christmas. Blow me down. So, if you really believe that, be respectful of people who celebrate other traditions.

3. Do people honestly think that minimizing someone's dearly-held holiday traditions is an effective evangelism technique? If the only way you have to communicate the profound love and truth of God With Us is to put down someone else's tradition, you have no idea what Christmas is about anyway and should be benched from the evangelism team. We are called to be a blessing to the nations, not a burden to them.

4. I'm quite comfortable as a self-identified Christian celebrating Christmas as the birth of Christ, because that's who I am. If you're not that person, I'll wish you a happy holiday and hope you have a wonderful time. I don't need to make anyone else feel awkward or minimize myself to wish people well.

5. I don't know what it's like to live in a culture where me and my traditions are ignored and minimized. It must be demoralizing and it surely contributes to hostility in this country and around the world. I don't want to be that person.

Another disturbing thing about whatever "War on Christmas" has been going on (and I can't believe I'm remotely associating myself with Bill O'Reilly) is the deeper issue of what a Christian nation looks like. It seems like we think if the language and symbolism is intact, we then are turning the ship around and "returning" to something that most educated people would argue was never there.

Here's the deal: for better or worse (and, held in check, I have no problem with this) we are a capitalistic economy. When I took econ classes in high school and college, the first thing I learned was that the whole model is based on the principle of scarcity. Basically, that means we operate out of a place of fear - fear that we won't have enough, that we won't get our share, that someone will take our share. Statistically, the middle class is disappearing as CEOs give themselves huge pay raises and the minimum wage has remained constant for a decade (until now, thank God). We're not seeing a lot of anything trickle down, are we? Does anyone else find it interesting that our economy is based on fear and the most often given command in scripture is "Do not fear"?

To me, then, to be a Christian, nation is to be a people who will give without fear of running out. We trust that God will provide what we need and we do things like ending third world debt because at the end of the day, we don't need the money. We don't mind paying a bit more for the fast food we shouldn't be eating anyway b/c the minimum wage has gone up. We spend a bit more on free-trade coffee because it helps the farmers in Africa and South America. We can afford it and the people who work there need to feed their families. As Paul said, we need to consider others above ourselves. The goal shouldn't be to keep prices down, but to make sure that everyone has food, clothes, shelter, and they are loved. That's what a Christian nation looks like to me.

The Topography of Wholeness

Two thoughts have converged in my heart and head as I try to truly process the meaning of God with us this season. First - wholeness.

As I've been preparing for the Christmas Rock this weekend, I was putting together a "script" of sorts for the reading of the Christmas story from the Message translation. (say what you will - it works for a script). I was also including some of the prophecies about Jesus from Isaiah, and I included the traditional "For unto us a child is born..." from chapter 9, but, again, from the Message. In that version, the names listed for Jesus differ slightly from what we're used to hearing: instead of "Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace," it's, "Amazing Counselor, Strong God, Eternal Father, Prince of Wholeness."

Nothing wrong with that. Gets the point across. But when I was going over this with my friend who is helping me put together the dramatic portion of the evening, she said she had a hard time with "Prince of Wholeness." Her exact words were, "My ear wants to hear Prince of Peace." I don't disagree. Departures from deeply ingrained traditions, espeically around the holidays, are so comforting that it's difficult to relinquish our hold on them. But, as I thought about the ideas of peace, wholeness and the gospel, it seems that wholeness is a much more accurate version. In a time of war and unrest, both at home and abroad, it's easy to focus on the ideals of "peace on earth" and the dream of a world free of violence and pain. I believe that was definitely in the plan when God devised the whole incarnation thing.

One of the major problems, however, is that as human beings we are seriously lacking wholeness - peace in ourselves and with ourselves - myself included (and possibly at the front of the line). Christ came to bring peace both in the macro and the micro. We very much want global peace but chafe at the requirements of personal peace. Case in point - I have a very strong sense of justice and sometimes this causes me to hold grudges for long periods of time against those whom I perceive have wronged me because whatever happened was "not fair." The call to wholeness requires me to let go of that, but if I do that, do I cease to be a person who strives for justice? Not entirely, but I have a twisted sense of self-satisfaction when I can hold myself up as more just, more right, ironically more whole, than someone else who would betray me.

Second, as part of staying in touch with my inner Mennonite, I get the e-mail devotionals from Goshen College during Lent and Advent. Todays was very good and an interesting perspective. Here it is:

Dec. 8 - Crooked roads and high mountains
By Sarah Wilson, a senior Spanish major from White Heath, Ill.

Scripture: Luke 3:1-6 (NRSV)
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,

'The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
"Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
and the rough ways made smooth;
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God."'

Devotional:
When I read these verses I think of Christmas time at the family farm in the Appalachian Mountains. I hear my grandfather turning up the record player as the voices of Handel's "Messiah" belt out the prophesy found in Isaiah 40. As I listen I imagine the surrounding hills bowing low to the ground and the valley rising up to meet them; I see the power of God transforming the familiar into the novel. And I don't like it.

You see, the mountains are where I feel most at home. I feel secure and comfortable when I'm in their presence. And the rough, windy roads? Well, there's a charm in hairpin turns and a certain grit and character in potholes.

I think the people John preached to probably shared some of my feelings. I imagine they were reluctant to remodel the topography of their homeland, of their heart, of their mind. There's pain in change, especially when you're quite content with the way things are. But Luke 3 makes it quite clear that the way things were was not fit for the Lord. Roads had to be straightened and mountains of pride, bitterness and envy had to come down to prepare for his coming.

Of course, the good news is that Christ booked his trip to our wilderness while our roads were still crooked and our mountains still high (Romans 5:8). There is nothing we can do to earn his love, sacrifice or faithful friendship. But although we can't earn his presence, there are ways to prepare for it. Soon Christmas will be here and we'll celebrate the birth of Jesus. We'll remember when the Savior first met us on our own turf, in our personal wilderness. Christ has come, and in fact, he is coming. Use these days of Advent to prepare your heart and mind for his arrival.

This Christmas I will listen to the words of Handel's "Messiah" with a fresh perspective, remembering that when the mountains come down, the roads are made straight and the laborious preparation is complete, "all flesh shall see the salvation of God" (Luke 3:6). Hallelujah!


Sarah says, "The way things were was not fit for the Lord." I tend to enjoy the "topography" of the status quo and don't see the need for valleys to be filled up, mountains brought low, crooked places made plain. But, that's what Christ came to do. SO, as I focus on God being with Us, this year, I will be thinking about God being with ME and how my willingness to allow him to change the topography of my journey can help bring peace on earth.

An Abiding Presence

(i post in spurts - have we noticed?)

my friend and i walk every weekday morning in golden gate park. she is, how shall we say, somewhat challenged in the area of punctuality (but i love her) and my time waiting for her is never wasted b/c i spend the time resting, thinking, praying, and generall just being in a few moments of quiet that i need every day.

so, today, i was reading my renovare guide and here's what it had to say:

"In returning and rest shall you be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength. Therefore the Lord waits to be gracious to you; therefore he will rise up to show mercy to you. For the Lord is a God of justice; blesseed are all those who wait for him." Isaiah 30: 15, 18

" It is a great lesson to learn that to be silent before God is the secret of true adoration. It is only as the sould bows itself before Him in honor and reverence that the heart will be opened to receive the divine impression of the nearness of God and of the working of his power. Such worship of GOd is the surest way to give Him the glory that is due Him...Do not think that it is lost time. Do not abandon it if at first it appears difficult or fruitless. Be assured that it brings you into right relationship with Him. It leads to the blessed assurance that He is looking on you in tender love and working in you with a divine power. As you become more accustomed to it, you will experience his abiding presence with you all day long, and people will begin to sense that you have been with God." - Andrew Murray

as i read these passages and spent some time in prayer, i began to imagine myself spending time with God and in my mind, God was not much bigger than me. my first thought was that God needed to be "bigger." as i listened, i was reminded that i determine God's "size" in my life as i allow God to work and be in charge - part of the aforementioned "right relationship."

my brain tends to get ahead of my prayers. i start networking and making connections and stuff and thinking about what's possible rather than listening to what God wants.

this weekend i'm going away to write for Renovare and this concept is going to be key b/c i need to make sure that this project is just God's size - not mine.

Best Little Grocery Store In Texas

so the other night i wrote this whole blog and then i apparently got distracted by a shiny object and forgot to post, so it's taken a few days for me to get the strength back to write it again. here's what i remember.

ok, so about 3 weeks ago my mom and i visited my grandfather in texas. dude is 92, blind since age 40, lives alone, and at all times has his checkbook completely balanced in his head. he's amazing. granted, it's an unappealing part of the country to visit (sorry kenny) but i do enjoy the family connection. we got some great video of him telling stories about himself, his life and our family and i gotta say - i always enjoy those things b/c it gives some great insight into who i am and who our family is and it gives mad points to the "nature" side of the "nature vs. nurture" conversation.

for example, i knew that he wasn't super educated - he only completed the 8th grade. i didn't know that he took a civil service exam and an exam to become a steel worker and, without ever having been to high school, got the top score of his class. the man is bright. he still keeps up with current events, "watches" rock hudson & doris day movies, listens to music and daily listens to a portion of the Bible on CD. he rocks.

the place where he lives, however, does not. he lives in a place that i affectionately refer to as "ass crack," texas, although if you look on a map it would say "brazoria." time seems to have forgotten this land of moss and ammunition, and the residents have no objection. let me give you the highlights of our trip to the grocery store:

1. the small produce section was in a very dark back corner, but there was a very well-lt, prominently featured beer section

2. there was no organic food to be found

3. there was a large section of fishing equipment, and no sea food.

4. no bottled water section

5. there was a large portion of the "baking stuff" aisle devoted to myriad kinds of corn meal. i had no idea.

6. the best part of the whole place was a glass display case at the front of the store with 3 shelves. the bottom shelf had medical feminine stuff. the middle shelf had various types of ammunition. the top shelf had new dvd releases for rent. seriously.

family

my mom sent me this in an e-mail last week:

Thursday night Todd & Lisa asked us to eat dinner with them so when Chloe was almost done, she said "Gee, I need to hurry and get done so I can go outside to scream!" She told me she uses her inside voice in the house so she has to scream outside. As soon as she was done, she ran and opened the patio door, ran to the edge of the bricks and screamed at the top of her lungs! Then she said "I like to scream."

ok, first of all, my neice is the funniest kid ever. but, second, i thought that letting chloe have a place where she can scream is a pretty inspired bit of parenting on the part of my brother and his wife. chloe is a very active, very verbal kid. she doesn't stop talking from the moment she gets up until she goes to sleep. she noticies everything and comments on it. she runs around in circles and sings songs. she's always going. apparently, she has discovered that she also likes to scream.

i love that she is in an environment that she is allowed to figure out who she is, be loved and valued for who she is and then be shown how to function successfully as herself. obviously, she can't succumb to her desire to scream in all places at all times, but she's been given an appropriate way to be herself, and i think that's going to make her a better person.

i think that's yet another picture of how God created families (all kinds of families, but that's another conversation) to give us all places to learn to be ourselves and find our place in the kingdom. oh my gosh - i just realized that there's a point at which i could actually agree with the religious right. alert the media. i do think that the enemy works specifically to short circuit the family system. however, here's where our agreement sadly comes to an end. i have a broader definition of family (again, not going into that here) but i think that we need to work, not to keep people from forming new families but teaching people to be better families.

it's an interesting social phenomenon that when we move someoner else or grew up in a place where we have no stong biological family, we create new families, and we call them families. we know that we need that, and so we make it. we find circles of relationships in which we can love and encourage and be loved and encouraged and become the best version of ourselves.